#how is TV show not sweeping?
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hotchocolateandpillowforts · 3 months ago
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I was tagged by @my-beloved-lakes to make a poll about my favorite characters. I'm including both TV shows and books (and a comic).
I'll tag @eg515 @sun-ni-day @arsenicalbronze @chronicallyunavailable @keabbs @youcanttaketheskyfrommex and @spocks-evil-godmother.
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fierykitten2 · 1 year ago
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Falcon or Robert? Who’s the most normal guy in the F-Zero Grand Prix? I’d make a poll but I don’t want a repeat of the last time I compared the two of them in a poll (the first three votes went to Robert, admittedly the first one was me, then the other five votes went to Falcon thank you Smash fandom)
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allpiesforourown · 3 months ago
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Superstar Luo Binghe au. All the directors beg him to be in their movies because his fame will immediately assure success for anything they make. He’s handsome, charming, dedicated, and most of all, extremely talented. He even does his own stunts!! Women love him, and men who say they hate him will still watch his movies so they can figure out how to be more like him. 
The only weird thing about Binghe as an actor is that he refuses to star in romantic films. He won’t kiss anyone, won’t pretend to date someone on screen, won’t even let another actor take over his role for the scenes he doesn’t want to do. His reason? He’s completely loyal to his husband.
Everyone thinks it’s stupid, obviously. You aren’t “cheating” by pretending to love someone else, it’s literally your job! Luo Binghe still refuses and says even he’s not good enough an actor to make anyone believe he could ever love someone other than Yuan-ge.
His fans hate this mysterious Yuan-ge. Because of his (probably insecure and jealous) spouse, all of Binghe’s fangirls cant see him sweep some y/n character off their feet. It’s even worse because they don’t know anything about this guy. Whenever someone asks to see or learn about Binghe’s husband, the star says he’ll never reveal Yuan-ge to the public, because he’s too beautiful and he doesn’t want everyone falling in love with him. 
People kind of run with the idea that obviously this guy must be a total weirdo who Binghe is embarrassed to be seen with. That has to be the explanation, because no matter how perfect someone is, how can they have such a chokehold on THE LUO BINGHE??
Then, one day, years after Luo Binghe’s initial rise to fame…. He goes on a talkshow. With his husband Shen Yuan. 
Obviously EVERYONE tunes in. No one uses TVs anymore bc of the internet, but just for this show, viewer ratings are the highest theyve ever been. Everyone wants to know what the fuss is all about with this guy to have Luo Binghe so down horrible. 
And Shen Yuan isn’t a weirdo. He’s also not some pretty yesman. He makes jokes that make the audience burst into laughter. He’s opinionated, which is really refreshing when every other celebrity stays neutral on every topic to avoid losing fans. He’s polite, but he’s not a pushover. He’s likeable, but he’s not a try-hard about it. Referencing memes makes him an instant hit with the younger generations, and the calm gentle way he talks makes him a hit with the older ones. All of a sudden everyone is going, okay we see why Luo Binghe is obsessed with him. 
Except… while shen yuan was making jokes and charming everyone, Luo Binghe was at his side, pathetically pawing at his husband for attention. The actor keeps whining every two minutes to be reassured yuan-ge still likes him. Whenever Shen Yuan compliments the host, Binghe looks like he’s about to cry. Whenever Luo Binghe jealously wraps his arms around shen Yuan everyone watching just rolls their eyes. Seeing them together people realize… shen yuan is the one that’s out of Luo Binghe’s league.
In just one hour public opinion goes from ‘no one can be worth binghe acting like that for’ to ‘luo binghe is so annoying, let shen yuan talk!!’ 
The next day someone finds shen yuan’s twitter and it blows up. He has his own fan pages now. There’s no pictures of him online other than the footage from the talkshow, so the fan accounts just post that over and over again. Shen yuan retweets a post about him with the caption “i never realized she was holding a plate of corn in this scene” and everyone loses their mind. Everything he says immediately goes viral bc that’s luo binghe’s attic wife.
People start nagging Binghe to post about Shen Yuan bc theyre so attached after his one and only publicized appearance. Binghe is super possessive, but yuan-ge tells him not to worry, so he relents and posts pictures of him and shen yuan on vacation. They’re together, holding hands… but shen yuan’s face and body are blurred out. It’s HORRIFYING. He looks like an eldritch monster bc luo binghe refuses to let anyone look at his yuan-ge in a swim suit, go away you perverts!! His instragram is now just full of pics of shen yuan where his eyes are blacked out so noone else can see how pretty they are. It’s nightmare fuel
Shen Yuan is unfortunately too unbothered to post pictures of himself. Everyone’s tired of Luo Binghe for “hogging shen yuan all to himself” when Shen Yuan is practically an internet celebrity now. 
People go to watch movies and their theatre conversations sound like this:
“Oh, Luo Binghe’s in this one!”
“Who?”
“You know Shen Yuan’s annoying husband?”
“OH THAT GUY..”
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halohalona · 3 months ago
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🎀 A Little Redecorating
Logan wakes up to you rearranging the living room in the middle of the night
Logan Howlett x Reader
this is inspired by my impulsiveness (i don't know if that's the right word) to clean and rearrange my room at 11 at night until like 12:30 in the morning.
not beta read
masterlist
warnings/tags: fluff, reader possibly having adhd and making impulsive decisions, husband!logan, a little ooc logan, kinda domestic, probably a bit incoherent towards the end cause i decided to finish writing this at 2 in the morning
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To be completely honest, you have no idea why you suddenly got the urge to rearrange and reorganize the living room. You were laying in bed when the idea popped up in your head, and couldn’t sleep since. So you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake up your husband, and got to work.
You were moving the TV stand when your hip accidentally hit the edge of a side table causing the vase placed on top to fall.
CRASH
Logan immediately sat up the claws on his left hand unsheathing. Instincts kicking in, he looked over to your side of the bed to see if you were ok, only to see no one.
“Shit!” he heard someone speak before hearing a loud thud. In an instant he was out the door running straight to where the voice came from.
You were sweeping the remnants of the broken vase onto a dust pan when you heard Logan frantically shout your name. “Y/N!!”
“I’m okay!! I just knocked over a vase!”
When Logan finally reached you his body visibly relaxed. “Thank fuck, you’re okay. I thought you were getting taken.”
“I’m sorry.” you say sheepishly.
He looked around, the room was in disarray. The couch was no longer in its original place, instead it was blocking the path to the stairwell where Logan came from. The TV stand no longer against the wall he was facing but instead in the middle of the room. The TV itself was laying on one end of the couch while books and knickknacks were scattered on the other end. The rug was also rolled up and put against the wall.
“Love, why are you rearranging our furniture?” he asked, confused.
“I honestly don’t know. I suddenly got the idea while in bed and I couldn’t wait until morning.” you answered looking around, the corners of your lips turning down. “And now I can’t exactly go to bed while the living room looks like this…”
Placing his hands on his hips, he took another look around. “Well then, let’s get to work. Let’s finish this before sunrise,” he sighed before hopping over the couch. “You got an idea how you want the furniture placed? "A smile makes its way to your face before nodding excitedly.
It took you only an hour to get everything in place thanks to Logan doing most of the heavy lifting. After placing the last book on the shelf you let out a loud yawn starting to feel exhausted.
“Alright, let’s get you to bed” your husband said, carrying you up to your room.
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Bonus:
That morning you sat at the dining table hard at work on something on your laptop.
Logan had to do a double take making sure he was seeing things correctly. "Is that our living room?”
“Yep”
“Did you seriously build our living room in—”
“The Sims? Yep. I actually built our house in the Sims.” you zoomed the camera out to show the entire first floor of the build before shrugging. “It makes redecorating easier.”
a/n: the bonus was really just an excuse to add the small detail that the reader uses the sims as reference for decorating the house lol
word count: 511
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laligraves · 1 month ago
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sweet angel agency
dark!joel miller x fem!reader
[18+] | wc: ~2.3k summary: Joel mistakes you for the escort he ordered. masterlist | AO3
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warnings: dark!Joel, TLOU AU, noncon/dubcon (im so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), older!joel/no outbreak, not proofread, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, reader has hair joel can pull, reader can be picked up by joel, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: happy october! i have these three serial killer!joel WIPs i keep jumping between but idk which one to finish 😭 so i wrote this instead lol
“No, no, no. Shit!” 
Your car emits a loud creaking sound and begins to shake. Thinking quickly, you drive into a small cul-de-sac, away from the main road and fast cars. It rolls to a stop with one final groan, shutting off completely. 
“Fuck,” you mutter, “are you kidding me?” 
You grab your phone from the center console, noticing the 3% battery, and shoot a text to your friend that you’ll be late to the Halloween party. 
It dies as you press the send button and you throw it to the passenger seat in exasperation. You look around the rows of houses. There’s a Halloween event in the city, which probably explains the lack of cars in the driveways and the turned off porch lights. 
Well, all except one. 
A pickup truck with tools and materials in the bed, is parked in the driveway of a home. The porch light is on and you can see the flicker of the TV through the closed blinds. 
You hope the family is nice enough to let you use their phone or even if by some miracle, one of them knows how to fix your car. As you step out of the car and smooth down your dress, you pray they aren’t judgmental of your outfit choice. 
It’s a tiny, silk dress complete with angel wings and thigh high stockings. You pull the dress down in an effort to cover your thighs but it only brings it down from your chest, accentuating your tits. 
With no choices left, you ring the doorbell to the house. There’s no noise aside from the crickets and the TV, until you hear the heavy thuds of boots walking towards the door. 
It swings open, revealing a tall, older man. His hair and beard have streaks of gray and his brown eyes are lined with soft wrinkles. The button down he wears stretches over his broad chest and as he leans his arm on the door, the bottom of his shirt rises to show a slight belly and a happy trail. 
In other words, he's handsome. A quick scan of his left hand shows no wedding ring. 
You give him a pretty smile, not above using your looks to get what you want. 
“Hi,” you say as you give him your name, “sorry to bother you. My car broke down and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call a tow truck?” 
His eyes do a slow sweep of your body, lingering on the lacy band of your thigh highs, then back up to your eyes, 
“Didn’t realize you came with a story.” 
Your eyebrows pinch in confusion. “Uh–story? What?” 
“And the angel costume… I guess that’s expected.” 
“May I use your phone?” you ask again.  
He pushes the front door wider, motioning for you to walk in. “It’s in the kitchen.” 
You walk inside and accidentally brush against his body. Aside from his confusing comments, the deep rumble of his voice caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. You walk into the hallway, stopping at the entrance of the living room, waiting for him to lead you to the kitchen. 
“Are you… home alone or–” 
You feel his hand snake through your hair and pull you back into his chest. His other hand slips under your dress and cups your pussy, rubbing over the thin material of your panties. 
“What the fuck–” 
You lift your hands to scratch and push him away but he only holds you tighter. 
“Stop playin’ games, little girl,” he growls, “we both know why you’re here.” 
His fingers, rough and calloused even through your panties, glide over your panty-covered slit in rough strokes. You’re frozen in his arms, unsure of what to do. 
Your heart pounds fast in your chest and you feel warmth spread through your body. 
“I don’t–please, sir–” you stutter. 
His fingers slip into your panties and you bite your lip to muffle your moan. He swirls his middle finger at your entrance, gathering the slick that’s dripped out of you, and drags it up to circle your clit. 
You gasp, the sudden jolt of pleasure taking you by surprise. 
“So fuckin’ sensitive,” he growls, “can’t wait to sink my cock in ya’, angel.” 
Your hands try to dislodge his arms from around you, but he slips his hand around your neck and squeezes, cutting off your air supply. Your wings bend in his hold and the plastic middle digs into your back. 
“I told them I wanted you to call me Joel,” he murmurs, loosening his hand to allow you to breathe, “but I like sir.” 
“What are you talking about—” 
Joel interrupts you again, ripping your panties in a stinging snap and spinning your around to face him. You teeter and almost trip on your heels, but he crouches and swings you over his shoulder. 
He brings his hand down on your ass, ordering you to stop squirming, girl, while you feel the cool air brush on your naked cunt. 
Joel walks you through the hallway and into a room, dropping you on his bed. You try to scoot away from him, but he grabs your foot and yanks you back down. 
“No, please,” you cry, “I don’t know what this is–” 
“We won’t be needing these,” he says as he slips off your heels. 
“Sir–” 
Joel grabs the top of your dress and rips it half, maneuvering your body so he can untie your wings, leaving you in nothing but your stockings. 
You don’t like the way your belly tightens with each stroke of his rough hands over your heated skin or the way your cunt drips with need every time he calls you a pretty angel. 
He laughs at your attempts to kick or shove him away, and easily overpowers you. Joel pushes your hands back and nuzzles your breasts, gliding his nose over one, sliding to the other, until he suckles a peaked nipple into his mouth. 
It gets you to stop fighting and instead you whimper in his hold, pushing your chest up so he can get more of your plump flesh into his mouth. 
He makes room for himself between your thighs, grinding down his bulge onto your bare pussy. The rough material of his jeans contrasts the softness of his mouth and your brain short circuits. 
“Always the same with you sluts,” he growls, “beggin’ me to stop but look at ya’, soakin’ my jeans.” 
Joel props himself up, giving a kiss to the tip of each breast, and holds your mouth open with rough fingers to shove your panties inside. With your now torn dress, he uses the silk to tie your hands together. 
“Can’t get away from me now, little girl. You’re all mine.” 
Your knees are bent and thighs spread open, giving him a perfect view of your cunt. He uses one hand to thumb your tiny hole while the other unbuckles his belt. 
“Prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” Joel says, “gonna make a mess in it.” 
Joel pushes his jeans down and fists his cock, squeezing the thick length in his hand. A pulse starts in your cunt at the sight and you unconsciously tighten your inner muscles.
You push the inappropriate thoughts out of your head, reminding yourself that this is a stranger, one that you wanted help from–but the dribble of pre-cum on his purple tip makes your mouth water. 
His cock is thick, angry-looking, and curved slightly. A patch of curly hair, silver streaked just like his head, covers his base. 
Joel slips a single finger inside of you and you both groan, him from the snug fit and you from the stretch. Your back arches and you cry out from behind the gag. 
“So fuckin’ tight,” he murmurs, “how am I gonna fit in here, angel?” 
He slides his finger out and notches the tip of his cock to your slick entrance. You cry, no, no, please, through your gag, but your resolve slowly slips. 
Joel holds your thighs open and thrusts in with one firm push, lodging himself to the hilt. It takes you a few moments to react, but you scream behind the gag.
“Fuck, fuck,” he says, “that’s—fuck. You’re fuckin’ perfect.” 
You flutter around his length, trying to accommodate his size, feeling every veiny and bumpy ridge on his cock. 
He stills, clutching your thighs and sliding his fingers beneath the lace band of your stockings.
“Grippin’ me so well, angel,” Joel groans, grinding down. “Meant to be, yeah?” 
No, you scream in your head, but your body quivers in excitement and you breathe in the scent of his cologne and sweat, wanting him but, at the same time remembering how you ended up here.  
“Look at cha’,” he laughs, “impatient little thing. Already fuckin’ herself on my cock.” 
You try to deny it, that you’re currently not swiveling your hips, bouncing with the little room you have, trying to get him to move, but it’s no use. You’re chasing the warmth that simmers in your belly and you purposefully clench around his length.  
Joel moves slowly, sliding out, watching the flicker of emotions on your face. 
It barely fits, and it borders on pain. But the heat in your pussy only grows with each growl or moan that spills from his mouth. 
You’re embarrassingly wet, making it so much easier for him to pound into you. He watches your joined bodies, eyes half closed but focused on the way your inner lips grip him, on how your slick drowns him from tip to base. 
“Should I keep you, little girl?” Joel groans. “Chain you to my bed so you never leave?” 
The image flashes in your mind—you, naked and sweaty, covered in his cum and spit, completely at his mercy. 
He doesn’t need a verbal answer to know the idea excites you. Little slut, he says, as your inner muscles tighten around him. 
Joel pushes your hands above your head and presses his face into the exposed column of your neck. He stretches over you, trapping you under his heavy weight. 
Even if this isn’t the first time you’ve been fucked—it is the first time you’ve been fucked like this. The sounds you make, whines, screams, pretty whimpers that have him holding you tighter and fucking you harder—it’s all new. 
“Deep,” he whispers in your ear, “so goddamn deep.” 
There’s something strangely intimate about this. He stays fully clothed, only giving you his bare cock to feel, while you lay beneath him, completely nude except for the thigh highs.  
Joel, if that even is his name, is a complete stranger. Yet he pounds into you like he owns you. 
His lips trail from your neck, licking the droplets of sweat that gather on your skin, leaving kisses on the corner of your mouth, uncaring of the drool from your gag. 
Your thoughts jumble from the overstimulation and soon you’re sobbing, filled with his big cock, dominated by the sheer force of his entire being. 
“So fuckin’ tiny,” Joel grunts, “take me cock, little girl. Take it, take it.” 
His breathing becomes erratic and he thrusts harsher, hauling your thigh higher so he can move quicker. He’s close. It might be your mind playing tricks or, his cock could actually be swelling inside of you, ready to fill you with his cum. 
His thumb swipes over your clit in fast circles and you ripple around his length, coming in sticky, wet spurts. Your scream, caught by surprise by the pressure of your orgasm. You tremble and cry in his hold, squeeze him hard enough that he groans in pain. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters, “gonna make this pussy mine.” 
And he does. Joel fills your clenching, little hole with his cum, spilling his seed in your unprotected womb. You remember too late that you’re no longer on birth control, but it’s no use. You have no way to stop him from painting your cunt white, so you let him make a mess inside of you. 
His hips piston with enough force to sink you into the mattress. You’re not quite sure if your orgasm ever ended, but your cunt pulses with another wave as Joel fucks the rest of his spend inside of you. 
“All full of me, little girl,” he murmurs, dropping down to lay partially on top of you. 
You won’t be able to walk tomorrow, or maybe for the next few days. Your entire body feels sore and your mind is delirious. 
Joel gently slides out of you and places a kiss on your chin. He unties the silk from your hands and removes the wet panties from your mouth. You hear him walk out of the room, but fall asleep before you’re able to drink the glass of water he brings you. 
-
Joel’s POV.
He’s glad he followed Tommy’s advice and switched to a new escort agency. 
The others aren’t usually so responsive or reactive to his touch. They’ll play along to his fantasy, throw out a few no, please stop, but it never feels real. 
You’re different. 
You kicked, scratched him, drew blood from his skin. It felt real, bringing out the primal side of him that he’s so desperately tried to repress. 
Joel walks into the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and his phone, intending to order you food, when he sees an email from Sweet Angel Agency sent almost two hours ago. 
Dear Mr. Joel Miller, 
We apologize for the late notice but our Angel will not be able to make it to your residence tonight. We will be providing you with a full refund. Please wait 2-3 business days to see that reflected in your bank account. 
For any further questions or to schedule another appointment, please contact us. 
Thank you, 
Sweet Angel Agency
“Who the fuck is in my bedroom?” Joel says after reading the email. 
But as he walks back into the room and sees you spread out on his bed, your inner thighs soaked with your combined juices, marking your heated skin in white and clear streaks, Joel realizes he doesn’t really care. 
He strips out of his sweaty clothes and climbs onto the bed with you. Now that he knows you aren’t from the agency, there’s no reason to let you go just yet. 
- - -
a/n: i know there are probably a few fics out there with similar tropes however if anything in this one is similar in plot to another, it is purely by coincidence! i would never steal someone’s work and i appreciate each and every fic writer out there who does these for free and takes time out of their day to give us amazing fics 🤍
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disgustingtwitches · 2 months ago
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MDNI
Working at a restaurant with 141!(Part 5)
The shithead owner decides that he needs to sign up for a "restaurant renovation" show. Chaos ensues.
"A fucking TV show?"
Gaz frowns while polishing glasses.
"Told him it was a bad idea."
Price shrugs, lighting a cigar. You are horrified, being on the screen for millions of people to see was nerve wracking. And it'll be the first time you meet the owner.
"Restaurant renovation... Lik' he gives twa fucks aboot renovating this shitehole."
Johnny ashes his smoke and passes it to you. You take a deep drag and sigh, this is gonna be a disaster.
~
Cameras are set up everywhere, everyone's mic'd up, there are too many people in too small of a space. Some obnoxiously loud man introduces himself. He seems to be an amalgamation of every TV host you've ever seen, wearing too much cologne and too much hair gel. He puts a hand on your shoulder,
"The place looks terrible but at least they got something nice to look at here."
He flashes a smile, cheap veneer blindingly white. You awkwardly laugh while Price steps in, introducing himself. You scurry away to the back where the rest of the boys are,
"I want everyone to be on their best behavior today. No fucking around. Don't make me look bad."
The owner is a bland man, average height and weight, with a shitty haircut and wearing an ugly flashy shirt. He turns around and briefly introduces himself, he already smells like liquor. Great. He gets waved over to get interviewed by the host. You and the guys watch from the other end of the restaurant. It's quite embarrassing, the host pointing out how run down the place looks, the menu is confusing and overwhelming, and then asks if he's drunk,
"I can smell the alcohol from here Carl... it's only 11am buddy."
The owner stutters and blinks,
"I- just uh, just a crazy night is all."
The host stares, unconvinced. Carl shifts awkwardly in his chair. The next segment was ordering food apparently, so you were up. You walk up to the table as the host asks you a barrage of questions,
"How would you say the fish is here? Is everything fresh? What do you think of the steak? Do you have any recommendations?"
When you say you only ate the fries from here and he laughs loudly,
"That is not a good sign folks!"
He stares at the camera, showing off teeth that were too big for his mouth before you walk off and punch in the order. There's a cameraman recording John and Simon cooking,
"Steak and potatoes."
John reads the slip out loud, they move around the kitchen while the owner watches. For such a simple dish there's a lot of chaos, Carl is yelling at them to move faster and cook properly, John is busy arguing with Carl and burns the steak, Simon plates up the food and hands it off to you. You place the plate down in front of the host,
"Oh...oh my God..."
You keep a straight face, hands behind your back. The host looks back up at you,
"Does the food usually come out like this?"
There's a tone of disgust and concern, his eyebrows turned up, you shrug. He stares back down at the filet and cuts into it,
"It's very impressive that one is able to overcook such a large piece of meat. That takes...skill."
You watch concertedly as he picks up a piece and puts it into his mouth, it looks like he wants to cry.
He goes on to complain about the quality of the food to the camera as he walks to the kitchen,
"At least it's clean back here. I've seen kitchens in wors- is that a fucking pigeon?"
Sure enough, there is. How the fuck did it get in here?
"Oh! I just left the door open to let some fresh air in..."
Carl awkwardly tries to catch the bird while the boys watch amusedly, even the camera crew stifle a laugh.
"Christ Almighty, what is wrong with you man?"
The host shakes his head, watching the whole scene in disbelief. Eventually, the bird is out of the building and the sweep of the kitchen continues.
"Food is not expired, everything is stored properly, it's all very well organized. I was honestly expecting worse."
The host walks up to the bar next, plucking up bottles and examining them,
"So, Kyle is it? How long have you been working here for?"
"Just a little over five years."
Gaz leans against the bar. There's a gasp and the host waves the camera over,
"Look at this shit,"
He points at the label,
"Expired in August,"
You look over at Gaz and Soap, they look like they're about to piss themselves, holding back laughs.
"Of 2012!"
The host looks disgusted,
"Why didn't you throw this away?"
"Carl told me to not toss anything."
Kyle shrugged. Soap is almost in tears, shaking, trying to bite back a howl of laughter.
The next two days are like this, you don't know why Carl hasn't pulled the plug on this fiasco yet,
"I think he's getting drunker as the days go by."
Johnny says, ashing his cigarette. There's a nod from Simon,
"I think he enjoys being embarrassed, seems like the type to get off on that."
'The big finale' as the host calls it, means getting a new menu, refreshing the cooks(John's) skills, and cleaning out the bar. The place is opened and there's a line out of the door. It's overwhelming, the customers are putting on a show, acting like dickheads and sending everything back even when there's nothing wrong with the food. Simon and John are on top of everything, putting out food as fast as possible, Carl is shitting himself running around the kitchen like a headless chicken. The night goes by fast and everyone is at the bar,
"So the cooks are for the most part competent, the waitress is amazing, and the bartender is well... The man can do no wrong. The problem here is you,"
The host points at Carl who is fucking sloshed swaying back and forth,
"I genuinely think this restaurant would be better off without you."
Carl starts bawling. The host is visibly uncomfortable. The boys and you are looking at each other. Then when all the cameras and lights are gone, it's all back to normal. Carl is looking for reassurance from anyone and you and the boys just pack up and head home, Price patting him on the back,
"You'll be alright."
~
A few months later, you're all sat on the couch watching the TV. Johnny's over the moon pointing at the screen,
"Look thare A am! See hou sexy A look?"
He's smiling and waving at the camera in the background of the scene where Carl is crying his eyes out. That gets a laugh out of Gaz,
"You're a sick bastard, Soap."
Once the episode dropped, the restaurant got busy for a few months. Most of the customers are horny women ogling at Kyle. On occasion you get the request to bring out "the scary looking one" and you just laugh it off.
"You're so lucky working with all these guys, I don't know if I'd be able to control myself,"
A particularly drunk woman said to you one day. You just smile while Kyle winks at you over his shoulder.
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 6 months ago
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Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.
hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖
A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader
[6:00]
Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.
Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.
“Where you... going...”
Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.
Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.
“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.
“Stay... please...”
“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”
“You feel better than blåhaj...”
“...”
It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.
Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.
Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.
Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...
The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.
[12:00]
“Can we eat fries for lunch?”
you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.
“No”
“WHYYYY!”
“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.
okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.
just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.
“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.
What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.
“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.
“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.
“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.
Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.
[18:00]
You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.
“Mushroom”
“Mango”
“Oreo”
“Orange”
“Egg”
“g...”
“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”
“Fucking hell...”
Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.
[23:00]
“Time to sleep.”
“but I want to watch this movie.”
“You can watch it tomorrow.”
“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”
“...Fine.”
(00:00)
Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.
He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.
He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.
He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.
“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.
a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u
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tojisrealwifey · 6 months ago
Text
Crybaby — f. toji (pt. 1)
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: When you realize your husband might still be hung up on his ex-wife.
・❥・requests : rules
・❥・characters: fushiguro toji.
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warnings: mdni, 18+, kind of angsty, smut, degrotary terms (slut, bitch), saying the wrong name (whoopsy), drunk sex, very very very slight anal penetration, you are megumi's step mom, age gap, Toji's ex-wife's name is Rei, half-assed proofreading.
・❥・wc: 2.1k
・❥・masterlist
・❥・crybaby masterlist
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Your ears rang with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the bustling of the crowd. Your arm circled your husband's as you walked through the festival.
The event was coming to an end, which called for everyone to gather for the fireworks. You excitedly made your way to the benches with Toji in tow.
You were surprisingly quick, even with your kimono weighing you down. You were not one to dress up for festivals but you had just wanted to look and feel pretty for your husband today.
You were having the best day. Your mouth was still burning from the spicy yakisoba you had slurped up earlier, so you were delighted when Toji handed you a plate of dango for the two of you to enjoy.
Settling yourself down on one of the stair benches, Toji takes the now empty plate away and sets it down beside him. 
You hug his arm close, leaning and nuzzling into him. A hummed slightly, feeling content with the evening.
It wasn't long before the first firework exploded into life. The sparks fly as if they defy gravity with the subtle deafening ringing they bring.
The colors of each firework erupt into intricate shapes, sweeping the crowd in their wonder.
You couldn't look away at the beginning, not risking to miss the sight. But after a while had the urge to make a comment on the fireworks.
You turn to look at Toji, only, his sight isn't parallel to yours. His thin lips held a smile as his eyes were trained on someone else.
A woman sitting way ahead at the front. She was cheering with her friends, the radiant light displayed on her skin. The muscles of your cheeks twitch, not being able to stop the frown from embedding itself.
You felt the uneasiness bubble in your stomach when your eyes ghosted over her features.
Your chest felt heavy, not really knowing why. Sure, he was looking at another woman, doesn't mean he likes her, right?
He is just admiring something else, there's nothing wrong with that. You do so too, it isn't really a big deal.
No need to make it a big deal.
Goosebumps spread across your body, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden.
The fireworks show was over, yet, his eyes hadn't left her, and yours hadn't left him.
You softly shake his arm making him look at you, and seeing your glum face made him concerned, not that he showed it.
"You okay?" He asked plainly.
"My stomach's upset, I don't think the dango was prepared well."
"Oh? I feel fine though. Sure it wasn't something you ate before the festival?" He asks, taking his arm out of your hold and touching your back.
"Could be. Can we leave? I think I just need to sleep it off."
"Sure, let's go." He stands up, taking your hand in his as the two of you start walking away.
You take one last look at the woman he was staring at, making sure your eyes weren't deceiving you.
And your heartbeat only faltered noticing her uncanny resemblance to Toji's ex-wife.
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Toji sat on the couch enjoying the music playing on TV as you took a bath. It had become a custom.
Despite the fact you took longer to clean yourself up, you would always shower before him.
It used to be the other way around when you first moved in together, but while Toji would be in the bath you would end up falling asleep, Toji not having it in his heart to wake you.
So he insisted that you shower before him while he could catch up on other things.
Like right now, getting daily updates from Megumi.
"Where's mom? I want to say good night to her as well." Megumi's voice comes through from the phone. 
"She's in the shower. How was college today?"
"Good. Tired though."
"Then sleep ya lil' shit."
"Not before I talk to Ma."
Toji grumbles.
"She just went, it might be a while."
"I'll wait."
You on the other hand were scrubbing every part of your body with a subtle harshness. The stinging cold water rained on you, the coolness calming the overwhelming thoughts of your brain.
This wasn't something that bothered you usually.
You loved your relationship with Toji, and you loved him. You loved Megumi as if he were your own blood.
Yet there was always something off, something uneasy that always radiated off of Toji.
And you knew why.
You always enjoyed the stories Toji would share about his past, Rei, and baby Megumi. Listening happily to him describing the husband and father he was before you came in.
You loved listening about Toji's last wife because you liked the small twinkle in his eyes, and how a smile would form on the usually stoic Megumi's face.
You understood and accepted the love he had for her. And you knew if she hadn't succumbed to her illness, the three of them would be a happy family.
And you wouldn't be here.
You had an unspeakable amount of respect for the late Rei, but just sometimes you wished it wasn't like this.
Because you would catch Toji trying to remind himself that she's not here anymore, and it's the most heartbreaking thing.
It was the first time the 12-year-old Megumi accidentally called you 'Mom' and you remembered catching Toji's crestfallen face from your peripheral vision. 
It had only been 2 years into this relationship, so you were caught off guard when Megumi did so.
You were really happy, but catching the look on Toji's face made your head fill with doubt.
4 years after your relationship, Toji finally got on one knee. So why did he hesitate before slipping the ring on your finger?
You still remember your third date with this man. It was a month after you both met and had invited him home for dinner.
He had declined but later changed his mind. Despite his dislike for alcohol, you both shared a few cups of wine.
Wine lead to dinner...dinner lead to more wine...and wine lead to talks. During your conversation, he had let it slip that his ex-wife had died 3 years ago today.
And before you knew it, he was moaning her name as he fucked you.
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Your face was pressed into the pillow, letting out guttural moans at Toji's thrusts. You could feel the veins of cock against your walls, and your eyes rolled back, never having experienced something like this before.
"Ngh~ Yes! Please don't stop!"
"F-fuck you like this bitch?" 
He gives you a harsh spank, making you stick out your ass more and push against him. He suddenly halts, and his strong hold on you means you stopped too.
You manage to crane your neck and look back at him, taking note of his dazed look.
His face was pink and he looked completely out of it, and you couldn't tell if he was drunk on wine or your pussy.
His fingers brushed against your virgin entrance. Your breath hitched when he put pressure against the muscle.
"Relax. Had anything here before?" He asks, bringing his hand to his mouth and spitting on it.
"N-no..."
"Thought so." His wet fingers smoothed over your hole, simultaneously slipping his cock out, making you whine.
He crouches down, bringing his lips to where his fingers were, giving you a slow lick. 
You flinch at the foreign touch.
"Toji~" Your voice sounded like you were crying.
"Shhh, won't do much, baby. Just enjoy this." His tongue finally pressed against you, your hole flexing against him.
His tongue pushed in slowly making you move away from him from embarrassment.
"I can't Toji... 's too much!" You cried against the pillow.
His hands engulf your body, holding you close.
"Shhhhh...it's okay. She liked it too, so you'll learn for me, okay?" He slurs.
There was a flicker of discomfort from his words, but before you could question it, his cock was in you.
His thrusts were faster than before, hands working your chest as they painfully pinch your nipples.
"Hngg! R-right there! There! Toji!~"
"Such a fucking slut. Taking a cock that's too big for her. You're squeezing me out of you, nasty bitch."
"Fuuckkk~ Please! Please! I'm s-so close- Ahh!" 
Never had you had anything so deep within you before, your body absorbing every bit of pleasure that this man could give you.
"Yeah? Gon' cum f'me? Fuck cum baby. Wanna feel your pussy cum on me."
Toji's hand leaves your chest and finds your chin. He cups your face and brings you close to him, lips on your cheek as he grunts in your ear.
Your vision goes blank and you can hardly process Toji's moaning.
"You're so good Rei. So fuckin' proud of my wife. Clenching me so good. Gonna give you another baby, yea? Want my cum Rei?"
And you stupidly nod during your high, blatantly ignoring his calls for his ex-wife.
"Want your cum! Please Toji!"
You gasp out desperately. His hands find your hair, and he is once again pressing your face into the mattress.
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Your body is shivering as you leave the shower, hand desperately wiping your face to soothe your red face.
Chewing on your lip, you sat on the bed contemplating your decisions up until now.
Did you make a mistake?
You did, didn't you?
You remember that night, just how pathetic you felt when you came to your senses. 
There had been a slight ringing in your ear after the session. You would joke in your mind that it was a siren, warning you of this budding 'relationship'.
Toji had made you feel a satisfaction like no other, yet it had left you feeling a sense of malaise.
Neither of you addressed it the morning after. You wanted to say something but were unsure if he had retained any memory from the night before.
So you let it go, just giving an excuse like 'he was grieving' or 'we're not even official, it's fine' and 'we were both too drunk'.
And something like that never happened again, but you still can't help but think if every time you both get intimate, is it really just you on his mind?
Toji is caught off guard when he enters the room, the concern now evident on his face. 
You had been behaving distant since the end of the festival, but seeing you spaced out, sitting at the edge of the bed with only a towel around you as your nails worked to peel off the chapped skin of your lips, something was very wrong here.
"You chill, babe?" Toji asks, Megumi still on video call.
You don't even flinch when you hear his voice. You just simply stop picking at your lips, look up, and smile sweetly at your husband.
"Mhm...just worrying about Megumi." You lie.
"Well, he's on call, waiting for you."
"Oh! Gimme!" You stand up quickly, pretending as if there's nothing wrong as you snatch his phone.
Seeing Megumi's.....your son's.....face lifted your heavy heart. You walk to the right side of the bed and settle yourself on the floor, back supported by the bed.
You look back once more, smiling at Toji.
"You should take a shower. And be quick, or I might just fall asleep before you." You grin before turning your attention to your...son.
Thinking of Megumi as your son had started to feel uneasy, especially in front of Toji.
"Hi, baby! How are the dorms? Have you been attending all your lectures? You shouldn't miss any." You start.
"Yes Ma, I have. They are interesting but the teachers are old and boring." You let out a giggle at his response. As you speak, you hear the showers turn on.
"You know, you can skip a few lectures here and there, just don't let it affect your credits. I won't tell your father."
"I heard that!" Toji's voice is muffled yet his words are clear, clear enough to reach Megumi. 
You and Megumi let out a chuckle at this.
"Yeah yeah." Megumi lets out a yawn and you 'aw' at the sight.
"Go to sleep, honey. It's late." You say, secretly hoping to end the call early.
"Mhm, I'll talk tomorrow, Ma."
"Sure. Night baby. Muahh!" You lean forward to give an audible peck on the camera.
"Good night." Megumi smiles subtly at your actions before hanging up the call.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
You stand up from your seat on the floor, placing Toji's phone on the nightstand.
Walking towards the bathroom, you drop the towel on the floor and open the door.
From the looks of it, Toji had just finished cleaning his hair. So, without wasting time you crept up behind him.
Your hands find his back, slowly smoothing them over to the front. Toji had seen you enter so he wasn't surprised by your touch.
Your right hand that settled on his chest was now trailing lower and lower. Toji watched your hand intently, his eyebrows furrowing.
Just before your hand touched him, he had intercepted your trail by clutching your wrist in his hand.
He turned around, your wrist in his hold as he looked at you with a confused glare.
"Why are your hands shaking?" 
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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 month ago
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We Fell in Love in October | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello everyone, and…
🦇🧟‍♀️👻🎃Happy October!🎃👻🧟‍♀️🦇
It is truly the most wonderful time of the year! Halloween is my favorite favorite holiday, so of course I had to write a little something. I borrowed the title from a girl in red song that I enjoy. Also, if you're a New Girl fan, parts of this plot line might be familiar to you :)
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings: minor reader injury
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Shrieks and laughter echoed from every direction. The smell of fresh kettle corn wafted through the crisp autumn air. And two separate groups of children in Halloween costumes almost knocked Bucky to the ground. They blew past him in a blur of candy and chaos, shouting as they ran. He was certain that a rogue kiddo had somehow smeared the sleeve of his jacket with the sticky, sugary coating of their caramel apple, but he didn’t mind.
He simply took in the sights and sounds of the Halloween carnival, smiling to himself as went out of his way to step on crunchy leaves. 
Autumn was his favorite time of year- October, specifically. It was October when he first bumped into you at his favorite coffee spot, spilling your pumpkin cold brew all over your shoes. His insistent apologies and dedicated clean-up efforts endeared him to you instantly, as did his shy smile. He graciously replaced your drink and bought you a slice of spiced pumpkin bread for good measure, which you happily shared with him.
After that, Bucky knew he was done for.
He found himself spending as much time with you as possible. The two of you frequented bookstores and museums. You introduced him to a swath of movies and tv shows that he’d missed out on over the years. And he brought you back in time with each 40’s crooner he showed you on his record player. He’d never felt so comfortable, so at ease. And you returned the feeling ten-fold. 
It was October of the following year when he showed up at your apartment with a massive bag of candy and a bottle of your favorite wine. He knew how much you loved Halloween and all it entailed: the movies, the décor, the spirit of the season. And he was determined to make it extra special. The two of you watched scary movies and laughed uproariously each time the other jumped. And both of you consumed so much candy, you feared you might be sick.
But that fear subsided when Bucky finally pressed his lips against yours for the first time. It took him all night to work up the courage. He found his focus drifting from Nightmare on Elm Street and settling on you. Your jack-o-lantern sweatshirt. Your slightly messy hair. Your bright smile. But he didn’t make his move- he couldn’t. He was far, far too nervous. 
It wasn’t until the night came to a close that he finally found his nerve. You walked him to the door and thanked him for the candy. The wine. The company. And for making the first day of October one for the books. The goodnight hug you shared lasted longer than it ever had, and you swore he held you tighter than before.
The two of you lingered by the front door, chatting about nothing of consequence. Bucky needed to buy himself some time, and you wanted to keep him in your apartment as long as possible. You figured that if he hung around long enough, maybe he’d finally make his move.
But he left. After another long hug and some more nonsensical chatting, he bid you goodnight. He intertwined his fingers with yours for a moment, sweeping his thumb across the back of your hand. He gave your hand a squeeze and swept a kiss across your knuckles, and then he slipped out the door.
But before the disappointment had a chance to settle into your chest, a metallic knocking vibrated through your front door. You opened it instantly, figuring that Bucky had forgotten his phone or his keys on your coffee table.
But he wasn’t after any forgotten personal effects. 
Breathlessly, he asked, “Can I?”
“Please.”
And that was it.
His mouth met yours in long, deep kiss full of want and adoration and Halloween candy. His hands cradled your face, yours twisted into the front of his t-shirt. And neither of you took a breath for a very, very long time. Only when your chest burned from lack of oxygen did you finally pull away- but it was only for a second. He greedily recaptured your lips before you even knew what happened, not that you’d ever complain about it. 
And when Bucky eventually broke the kiss, you knew you this was it for you- he was it for you. He brushed his lips against your cheek, your forehead, the tip of your nose. And he asked you if you’d like to join him for an official date. You, of course, said yes.
Said date came only a few days later, when Bucky took you to a pumpkin patch and the two of you carved jack-o-lanterns together. You carved a rather accurate depiction of Ghost Face. And Bucky, of course, decorated his with a stick figure representation of the two of you at the coffee shop where you first met.
The night ended with a Halloween Hayride followed by a corn maze- and you swore Bucky got the two of you lost on purpose. He kept pulling you down errant pathways, insisting that they’d lead to the exit. No exit ever materialized at the end of his rogue, twisting trails. But they did provide the perfect venue for him to steal a kiss or three. And you didn’t complain once.
On October thirtieth, he asked you to be his. And you told him that you already were- you’d been his for a long time. He just didn’t know it.
It was hard for Bucky to believe that only two Octobers ago, you were a stranger. And now, you were his girl. He’d given all of himself over to you, and you accepted him with nothing but warmth and kindness and love. He couldn’t believe he’d been lucky enough to meet you, to win your affections, to call you his. 
He was never a huge fan of dark, dreary, autumn, as he always preferred the warmth of summer. But meeting you was enough to turn him into fall's biggest fan. The two of you were inextricably linked to the season, turning it instantly into his number one favorite. And as he strolled through the Halloween carnival and allowed autumn to wrap around him like a blanket, he couldn’t help but feel at home. 
At the sight of the Haunted House, Bucky hung a right and curved around the back of the structure. He listened to the screams and subsequent laughter of the patrons inside as he waited for you. He didn’t particularly love haunted houses, and probably never would’ve considered partaking in one if it hadn’t been for you.
“Buck!” your voice broke through the noise of the festival and pulled Bucky’s attention. 
But as his head perked up, he didn’t find his best girl. No, he found only a bloody, decaying zombie sprinting in his direction. He’d never been so happy to see a monster.
“Woah! You look amazing, baby!” Bucky motioned for you to do a spin for him and admired your elaborate, almost-too-realistic make up and costume. “You’re gonna scare the hell outta these people, doll.”
A wide, satisfied smile stretched across your zombified face, “That’s the idea.” 
As carefully as you could you leaned in and brushed a kiss to Bucky’s lips. Of course, you didn’t want to dirty his face with your gory make up, but you simply couldn’t resist kissing him. And you’d never want to. 
“Wait, I thought Sam was coming with you,” you scanned the area, looking for Bucky’s partner in crime. “Did he change his mind?”
Bucky let out a breathy laugh, “No, he’s here. But he saw a caramel apple stand near the front of the carnival and I lost him immediately.”
Your laughed matched Bucky’s, “Yeah, that sounds like him.”
Bucky eyed the haunted house, with its flashing lights and eerie exterior. It loomed over the entirety of the carnival, promising heart-stopping terror and endless fright for anyone who dared to enter. A cold sweat dampened the palm of his right hand; he swiped it on his pantleg without a word.
“So, how’s it been going, doll? Are you having a good time?”
At first, you thought it might be strange to volunteer as a scare actor. You didn’t have any experience, and didn’t think of yourself as much of a performer. But the second you saw the listing for volunteers online, the idea wormed its way into your brain and refused to leave. You always loved Halloween, always loved all things creepy. And working as a scarer for a few nights a week sounded like fun.
But it was Bucky who gave you the final push you needed. He knew you were second-guessing yourself, knew you’d talk yourself out of it if he didn’t step in. And you were grateful he’d been there to encourage you.
“I’m having the best time! It’s been a blast so far,” the excitement radiating off of you was almost palpable. “Everyone’s so nice and we’re having so much fun. I’m really glad I decided to go through with it.”
“See? I told you,” Bucky shot you a wink. “I only wish I could’ve been here on opening night of the festival-”
“Buck, you were literally saving the world. I understand,” you told him. “There’s no hard feelings.”
“Well, I’m really happy for you sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re having a good time.” He gently placed his metallic hand on the least bloody part of your face, “And I’m so excited to see you in action.”
You gave him a strange look, “What do you mean?”
“I just mean that I can’t wait to see you doing your thing in there!” He gestured toward the haunt, “Can’t wait for you to scare me to death, baby.”
“Oh, Buck- no. I don’t-” you cut a glance toward the haunted house, knowing full well what lurked inside the walls. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What? But I want to support you, doll-”
“You’re supporting me just by being here,” you leaned into his touch. “But I don’t think you should go in there, babe.”
Admittedly, he wasn’t looking forward to his trip through the haunt. Of course, he was excited to see you in your element- he just wished your element wasn't a terrifying, immersive experience.
“It’s a dark, enclosed space with blood and gore and people screaming,” you cautioned him. “And there’s actors who jump out at you from the dark. I swear, there’s one of us popping out around like, every corner.”
Bucky’s lips twisted into an uncomfortable, tense expression. He thought about what that experience might be like for him. How it might affect him. Once again, he found himself wiping his palm against his thigh.
“I just don’t want it to trigger anything for you, you know?” And you meant it. A trip through your stupid haunted house wasn’t worth his mental health.
He forced the tension out of his face and blanketed his features with a manufactured calm. You were always so supportive of him, always did your best to be there for him. And it was his turn to be there for you. What kind of boyfriend was he if he couldn’t even see you perform? Sure, going inside the haunt wasn’t his idea of a perfect evening, but he owed it to you.
“Yeah, but I’ve been through way worse, sweetheart. I can- I can handle a haunted house.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince- you or himself. “As long as there isn’t a Hydra torture chamber scene, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Well, I assure you there is not a Hydra torture chamber in there, but I still think you should think it over before you go inside. Okay?” You knew Bucky too well. Knew he’d do anything to make you happy- even if it meant sacrificing his peace. But he’d worked so hard to find that peace, and you couldn’t let him shatter it just for you. “I won’t be disappointed or get my feelings hurt if you decide not to go inside, I promise. I just want you to have a fun night without any pain or flashbacks or panic attacks.”
Bucky found nothing but authenticity in your voice. You weren’t just saying these things, or secretly hoping that he’d still venture into the haunt. No, you meant everything you said; you just wanted what was best for him. Wanted him to enjoy himself. And he was endlessly grateful for your understanding. For your kindness.
“Shit. Alright, I-” you looked down at your phone and sighed at the new text illuminating your screen, “I have to get back inside, my break’s over. Sorry, baby.”
“No, doll, don’t worry about it. Sorry I monopolized your entire break.”
“Are you kidding me?” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, “this was exactly how I wanted to spend it.”
He pulled you in for deep- yet careful- kiss. He didn’t want to mess up the makeup you’d worked so hard on but couldn’t let you go back inside without a kiss. 
“Just promise me you’ll think it over before you actually go inside the haunt, okay?” You eyed him with a serious, almost grave expression. “There won’t be any hard feelings if you sit this one out.”
“I promise,” he said. “And to tell you the truth, I’m- I’m thinking I might just stick to carnival games and funnel cake.”
A massive sigh of relief left your chest. The worry you’d been holding onto dissipated into the chilly autumnal air. And suddenly, nothing sounded better than cheap, rigged carnival games. 
“See, now that sounds like fun.” You left one more kiss to Bucky’s lips before heading toward your next shift. “Have a good time tonight, Buck.”
Bucky watched your bloody form receded toward the haunt. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about your warnings, your cautionary words. You really did care about him. You loved him more than anyone ever had. And you always, always put him first. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to express how grateful he was to have you. And as he observed the way you went out of your path just to step on the crunchiest leaves you could find, he knew the two of you were perfectly suited.
“Baby!” Bucky called after you as you reached the back door of the haunt.
You turned.
“Do you still wanna come over later?” he shouted over the noise of the festival.
Your “DUH!” echoed across the distance. And then you disappeared inside.
“Aw, man. Did I miss her?” Sam appeared just behind Bucky, two caramel apples in hand.
“Yeah, she had to get back to work. Oh-” Bucky reached for the apple in Sam’s right hand, the one that hadn’t yet been marred by Sam’s teeth. “Is this for me? Thanks, I-”
“Um, no,” Sam yanked the treat out of Bucky’s reach. “These are both mine.”
Bucky scoffed, “You’re joking, right?” 
“Nope.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, “You’re actually double-fisting caramel apples right now?”
Sam gave a confident nod and took a bite out of one of the treats. “Leave me alone, man. I’m just participating in the spirit of Halloween.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s antics. “Okay, well then, I’m gonna go get one of my own. Are you coming?”
Sam tilted his head to the side and gestured toward the haunt with one of his apples. “Aren’t we going inside now that she’s back on shift?”
Bucky gave the unsettling building a long look. He really did want to support you- but he just couldn’t bring himself to willingly venture into that environment. He thought back on what you said: Dark. Enclosed space. Blood. Gore. People jumping out of the darkness. It was the perfect recipe for a flashback. He could practically feel his PTSD crawling out of the darkest corners of his mind, waiting to pounce.
“Um, no, actually. I’m not- I’m not gonna go in,” Bucky said. “I was cautioned against it by a very sweet, very beautiful zombie.” 
It didn’t quite make sense to Sam. “She doesn’t want you to go inside?”
“She said it’s just not the best idea. The way she described it, I know it’s not gonna be a good experience for me,” a sad smile pulled at Bucky’s features. “Plus, I don’t know how I’m gonna react to bloody people popping out of the shadows and screaming at me. I feel like my training- or my PTSD- is gonna kick in and I might hit first and ask questions later,” he shrugged. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”
Sam didn’t suspect that Bucky would actually harm any of the actors; he trusted Bucky more than Bucky trusted himself. But he wasn’t going to push. If there was any possibility that the things inside the haunt might send Bucky into a spiral, he was happy to steer clear.
“Alright, yeah, we can- we can go play some games instead,” Sam suggested. “And you can win your girl a prize. Come on.”
Sam pointed Bucky in the direction of the carnival games- but not before he granted Bucky his second apple. 
“Wilson… I’m touched,” Bucky took a huge bite of the tart, sticky treat. “This is real friendship.”
“Yeah, yeah. But you’re getting the next round.” 
The two of them set off in the direction of the large array of carnival booths, both happily gnawing on a caramel apple. Bucky was grateful to have two people in his life who truly cared about his mental health. Two people who never forced him into situations that had the potential to rip open his old wounds. 
And though Bucky wished he could visit you inside the haunt, he knew it was better this way. If he chose to experience the haunted house and ended up having a violent flashback or a panic attack, he knew it would ruin your night. You’d spend the entire evening taking care of him, looking after him, worrying about him- you’d completely abandon your post inside the haunted house, and he couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t take away your Halloween fun, especially not when you’d just told him what a blast it all was.
No, he’d instead spend the evening playing shitty carnival games, drinking pumpkin beer, and betting Sam that he couldn’t eat another caramel apple. And later, after you’d finished your night of scaring, he’d welcome you into his apartment and spend the rest of his evening snuggled up with you on the couch. He’d make a batch of spiced apple cider and curl up with you under a blanket. And the two of you would fall asleep while Scream played in the background.
Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Around ten-thirty, a quiet knock pulled Bucky from his book. He dropped it on the coffee table- taking no care to mark his page- and dashed toward the front door. He couldn’t wait to ask you a million questions. To hear your stories from the night. But when he threw open the door, he didn’t find the smiling zombie he’d seen just a few hours ago.
Something about you seemed off. Almost hollow. But Bucky couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He was certain you had to be tired- exhausted, really. You’d spent hours chasing after your victims and screaming at the top of your lungs. Surely, you were just worn out.
“Hey, Buck,” you did your best to force a smile, but it wasn’t at all convincing. 
“Hey, baby,” Bucky pulled you into his body without caring that you were still covered in a thick layer of fake blood and zombie make up. “You good?”
You nodded against his chest, “Yeah. Just tired.”
Bucky felt his worry recede a bit- but it didn’t vanish completely. He took you by the hand and brought you inside, but didn’t pepper you with questions like he’d planned. All of his wonderings could wait until after you got a well-deserved night of rest. 
“I was thinking I could make us some spiced apple cider,” Bucky offered, “But if you’d rather just go to sleep, I can save that for tomorrow. What do you think, doll?”
“Um, whatever you wanna do, babe,” you rummaged through your overnight bag and unearthed your toiletry bag and pajamas. “I’m gonna go shower and take off my make up.”
Without another word, you retreated down the hall and disappeared into the bathroom. Something about your demeanor didn’t sit right with Bucky. This wasn’t just exhaustion; something darker lurked beneath your still waters. But he opted to give you your space. He didn’t want to delay your shower; surely, you wanted to shed your grime and get comfortable. And once you’d emerged from your clean up, he’d once again ask about your well-being. But not a moment before.
He quickly changed shirts, shedding the one that he’d willingly dirtied by hugging you, and went to work on the cider. Even if you only wanted a sip or two before bed, that was enough for him. He didn’t mind putting in the effort if there was even a chance it might make you smile- he’d do anything to see that smile. To make you happy.
“Sorry that took so long,” you said as you padded down the hall half an hour later. “Getting all of the blood and make up off is kind of a process.” 
At the sound of your voice, Bucky rose from his seat in the kitchen and met you in the hall with a mug of hot cider, which you accepted.
“Don’t worry about it, doll. I was just-” a smiled flashed across his face, “Oh, sweetheart, it looks like you missed some.”
Some of the blueish purple make up still stained your cheek and tainted the skin around your eye. A bit of fake blood ran through your brow. And clearly, you’d forgotten to remove one of your bloody contacts. 
“Here, let me.” He raised his hand to your cheek and tried to swipe the remaining make up from your skin with his thumb, but you yanked your head away.
Pain burned in Bucky’s chest. You’d never flinched like that around him. Never once did you dodge his touch or fear that he might hurt you. You always said you didn’t see him as a threat, didn’t think of him as a monster. What had happened in the last few hours that changed the way you saw him? 
He felt himself teetering on the edge of heartbreak, but the puzzle pieces fell together before he had the chance to fall apart. He didn’t recall you wearing bloody special effects contacts earlier tonight. And your zombie make up hadn’t been that shade of indigo. 
Bucky flipped on the hall light, bathing your face in a warm glow. He carefully raised his palms in a wordless promise that he wouldn’t hurt you. And once you gave him a small nod, he gently cradled your face in his hands. He carefully turned your head toward the light, allowing him a good, clear look at the marks on your face. 
And what he found ripped open a pit in his stomach. You didn’t flinch because you feared him- no, you flinched because you were hurt.
A large, dark blue bruise bloomed under the skin of your cheekbone. And another bruise stained your orbital purple. The area was already swelling, and Bucky couldn’t help but think about how much pain you were in. A gash sliced through your eyebrow, just above your blackened eye. And unfortunately, the blood staining the white of your eye wasn’t part of a creepy contact lens- it was real. It was all real.
“Shit. Baby, what happened?” 
“I’m fine,” you lied.
“No, you’re not,” Bucky insisted. 
A few tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. You spent your entire ride to Bucky’s telling yourself that you were fine. That you were okay. That it was just some bruising. That crying wouldn’t fix anything. You told yourself that people go through way worse every day- that Bucky had been through way, way worse for almost a century. You told yourself that it wasn’t a big deal. That getting emotional over something so small was unnecessarily dramatic. 
But Bucky automatically validated you- without even knowing it.
“What happened, sweetheart?”
You cut a glance to the side- which only made your eye throb. “Um, there was this guy who came through the haunt. And when I jumped out at him, he um,” you shrugged. “He hit me.”
A hurricane of emotion ripped through Bucky. He was horrified. Concerned. Wrathful. Heartbroken. All at once. 
“He hit me twice, actually…” You knew it would only make Bucky more upset. But what was the point of hiding the truth? He was going to be distraught either way. “He hit me here first,” you pointed at your cheek. “And then the second time, he got me in the eye. He had one of those big, collegiate class rings on- that’s what sliced my eyebrow open.”
“Jesus. Okay, um, you hang tight right here. I’m gonna grab my keys and some shoes- I need to get you to the emergency room,” Bucky threw his attention down the hall, searching for his keys.
“I don’t need to go to the ER-”
“Then I’m at least taking you to a minor emergency clinic,” Bucky insisted. “You need to be seen by-”
“The medic at the carnival already gave me a once over,” you rested a hand against his chest, calming him. “She said I’m fine. The cut doesn’t need stitches. I just have a minor concussion.”
Bucky stared at you for a long moment while a war raged inside his head. He knew you were okay, that your life wasn’t in danger. And he could tell you were too tired for an unnecessary trip to the hospital. But he’d feel more comfortable if a doctor took a look at you. If he had a guarantee that you’d be alright.
“I promise I’m okay,” you told him. “I really just wanna rest.”
And after another long moment of internally weighing the pros and cons, Bucky conceded.
“Okay. Here, I’ll take that,” he took your mug of cider and placed it on the hall table. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Bucky took you by the hand and led you to the living room. He got you situated on the couch and draped a blanket over your lap.
“He actually tried to hit me a third time,” you said. “I was already on the ground at that point. But he still went for it.”
You didn’t mean to sound so wounded. So pathetic. But part of you was still in shock. And the other part was heartbroken that one person had ruined your entire experience. 
“Thankfully, a few of the other actors got to him before he had the chance to actually make contact again.”
Bucky thought he might be sick. “What the fuck?”
You shrugged, “I’m not… I don’t know.”
“Um, do you need- I’m gonna get you some ice, okay?” He didn’t want to leave your side, but he could practically feel the throbbing, pounding pain hammering inside your head. And when he returned from the kitchen with an ice pack, some Tylenol, and a glass of water, he took a seat next to you.
“Why would he- he knew he was going into a haunted house. Why would he hit you?” Bucky couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He knew it was possible that the trauma from his Hydra days could make him lash out inside the haunt, so he chose to abstain. Why your assailant hadn’t done the same baffled him. 
“And why would he hit you multiple times?”
You shook your head and instantly regretted it as pain surged through your face. “I mean, they say ‘fight or flight.’ He clearly chose fight.”
“But after the initial hit, the shock and fear would’ve worn off,” Bucky reasoned. “He would’ve been able to recognize that he wasn’t actually in danger. That you were an actor, not a threat.” He sighed, “At least, he should’ve been able to figure that out.”
With a swig of water, you downed the pain relievers and sunk back into the couch cushions. The ice stung against your tender, pulsing wounds and you hissed at the sensation. But as the cold rendered your face completely numb, you recanted your initial, ungrateful thoughts.
“Well, I’m pretty sure he’d been drinking,” you rolled your eyes. It sent pain rocketing through your skull. “One of the guys that pulled him off of me said the guy was slurring his words pretty badly and absolutely reeked of beer.”
“Oh, perfect,” Bucky clenched his hands into tight fists. “Did anything happen to him? Is he gonna face any consequences?”
You offered him a downtrodden half-shrug. “I’m not sure. There were some security guards who escorted him out, but that’s all I know.”
Bucky leaned over and brushed a light kiss to your cheek- the one that hadn’t been marred by stranger’s fist. A razor-sharp feeling of helplessness carved deep into his flesh until it struck bone. He had a duty to you, and felt as though he’d failed. He couldn’t save you. Couldn’t protect you. Couldn’t even take you to the emergency room. 
All he could do at this point was try his best make you feel comfortable. Safe. And above all, he had to take care of you. 
Alarm struck him in the chest as he noticed what appeared to be a fresh drop of scarlet oozing from your brow. He stood from the couch with worry pulsing through his veins. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna go get some supplies to tend to your cut. Okay? You stay here, I’ll be-”
“No, that’s okay, Buck. It’s not that bad,” you shook your head, rejecting his offer; the throbbing inside your skull multiplied.  
“Baby, you’re bleeding…”
“What?” you removed the ice pack from your face and used your free hand to swipe a finger across your brow- only to find a warm, sticky sensation. “Oh, I didn’t even notice. My face is numb,” you brandished the ice pack at him. 
Bucky’s soft laugh filled the room, “I guess that’s a good thing?”
You gave him a careful nod. “Definitely.”
“Sit tight, doll. It’ll only take me a second.”
And he was right. He was only gone a few moments at the most; anything more than that felt unjustifiable. 
“Alright, let me see,” Bucky took a seat on the coffee table and placed his first aid supplies down next to him. As carefully as he could, he took your face in his hands and appraised your wound. He used gentle pressure to hold a piece of clean gauze against the bloody ooze. And though the cut wasn’t severe, it didn’t stop the dread from circling him like a vulture.
“I should’ve stuck around longer,” he lamented. “I should’ve stayed at the festival. Maybe I could’ve helped you somehow. Maybe I could’ve-”
Your hands found his forearms and wrapped gently around his wrists. “No, Buck. I didn’t want you going inside the haunt, regardless. Even if it was only to be my knight in shining armor.”
He stroked along your jaw with his cold, metallic thumb. “You always put me first, don’t you?”
“Of course,” you swept your thumbs over his skin, “I’d never dream of having it any other way.”
If there was one thing Bucky could count on, it was being your first priority. He’d never imagined he’d meet anyone who valued him. Who saw his worth. But you did- you always did. And you placed him proudly on a pedestal as your number one. Nothing came before him; nothing could take his place. He mattered more to you than anything or anyone ever had.
You were the kindest, most understanding person he’d ever met. You saw the good in everyone, even if they couldn’t see it themselves. And knowing that someone hurt you, that you were shown anything other than gentleness, killed him.
“Baby, I’m- I’m so sorry this happened. You didn’t deserve it.”
You poked at the ice pack resting in your lap, “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not ideal. But I’m not dying, or anything.” Your gaze dropped to the floor, “It’s really not a big deal.”
“Hey, look at me,” Bucky waited for your eyes to meet his, but had no luck. “Sweetheart, can you look at me? Please?”
After another long moment, you finally dragged your eyes upward. Bucky instantly clocked the tears gathering along your lash line.
“I know you’re not dying; I know this isn’t life threatening- but it’s still a big deal,” he said. “What happened is not okay. And you don’t have to pretend like it is.”
You rolled your eyes, sending a tear trailing down your cheek. “But you’ve been through a lot worse. I got punched- so what?” You scoffed, “You were abused for close to a hundred years. What happened to me isn’t-”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be upset,” he said. “You don’t have to compare your life to mine, sweetheart. No one should’ve laid a hand on you- tonight or ever.” He searched your face for a long moment, “Okay?”
It took a while for his words to sink in. For you to believe them. Rebuttals formed on your tongue every few seconds, but the concern in Bucky’s eyes banished them.
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief left his chest, and he delivered a long kiss to your forehead. He didn’t want you to diminish the events of the evening all because of him. Didn’t want you constantly using his suffering as a litmus test for your own. He knew you’d never consider your trauma as worthwhile if it always had to stand up to his.
With a fresh piece of gauze, he swiped the tears from your eyes. “Good. I love you.”
This wasn’t what you expected out of life. You were the last of your friends to find something real. To find someone worthwhile. And you assumed you’d missed your window. All of your exes treated you like you barely existed. Like you weren’t worth their time. None of them were ever concerned about your happiness or your well-being. And after dating more assholes than you could count, you resigned yourself to a life without romantic love.
And then Bucky spilled coffee all over your shoes, and you’d never been happier to have stained sneakers.
Bucky used a butterfly bandage to carefully close your cut and fetched you a fresh cup of cider. He took care of you in a way you’d never experienced. In a way you’d never thought possible. And after the night you had, all you wanted was to curl up on the couch with him. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms and forget all about what happened. 
But just as Bucky took his rightful place next to you on the couch, he was gone.
“Buck, where are you-”
“I almost forgot!” he called from down the hall. And just as quickly as he vanished, he reappeared with his hands behind his back. “Those carnival games are really hard- I mean, really fucking hard. And it took me all night, but I won this for you.”
With a quiet “Ta-da!” he revealed his prize and held it out for you. 
“I know he’s kind of ugly,” Bucky laughed, “But-”
“He’s not ugly!” You snatched the prize and held it close to your chest.
It was a little black teddy bear with orange spots- and upon further inspection, the orange spots appeared to be jack-o-lanterns. An orange and black plaid bow sat perched around the bear’s neck, and a tiny witch’s hat rested atop his head.
“Buck, he’s perfect,” you reached for him, pulling him down for a long, deep kiss before he even had the chance to sit. “I love him!”
“I’m so glad, it took me longer to win him than I’d like to admit,” Bucky laughed. “I’m sure Sam will happily tell you all about it.”
Once again, you captured Bucky’s lips with yours. Sure, you were exhausted. And hurting. And sad. But as Bucky’s hand cradled your face, and the prize he’d worked so hard to win for you rested against your chest, the pain of the evening melted away.
“Thank you, Buck.”
He shot you a wink, “Anytime, I-”
 “I mean it,” you abandoned your new teddy bear for only a second and took one of Bucky’s hands in both of yours. It took most of your strength, but you finally got him to take his spot next to you on the couch, “Thank you.”
His arm snaked around you and pulled you tightly into his side. “I’ve always got your back, baby.”
With your new teddy bear resting in your lap, you snuggled as close to Bucky as you possibly could. He brought you a sense of peace, a sense of safety that you’d never experienced before. All he ever wanted to do was take care of you, and you thanked the universe every day for granting you someone so gentle and kind and sweet.
Bucky put on a classic Halloween movie from your childhood, Halloweentown, to help you feel a little more at ease. And it came as no surprise to him that you were asleep less than fifteen minutes in, but he didn’t mind. He simply pulled you into his chest and carefully carried you to bed- along with your new stuffed animal. 
And as he climbed in next to you, he couldn’t have been more grateful for your cautionary words about the haunt. He thought about how different the night could’ve been, how much worse things might’ve gone had he stepped foot inside the dark, scary environment. What if he had a bad reaction and hurt one of your coworkers? What if he hurt you? If he’d been the one to strike you in the dark, you absolutely would’ve required an ambulance and a hospital stay. 
Just thinking about his metal fist connecting with your face made him nauseous. With a shake of his head, he forced the thoughts away. You were okay, you were right there next to him, sleeping soundly with your teddy bear tucked safely in your arms. He eyed you in the light of the moon, and thanked any deity who would listen for keeping him out of the haunt.
Just as he considered allowing his eyes to close, you moved. You loosened your grip on your bear and let him fall to the side as your sleepy hands searched for Bucky. He moved closer to you and watched with a smile as you draped your body over his. A tired, contented sigh fell from your lips, and Bucky thought his heart might melt.
He knew he didn’t deserve you. Knew he’d done so much wrong in his life. But now that you were his, he’d spend every day trying to protect you. Trying to make you happy. 
He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you. He was already planning to offer you a ring next October- doing so during any other month felt like sacrilege. 
————————————-
@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @anything-more-than-human
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xxsunoosprincess · 5 months ago
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Hi! How are you doing? I love your writing btw, you’re definitely one of my favourite writers 🙈
I don’t know if anyone has asked this yet, but enha legal line + aftercare?? What they’d do, how they’d act kind of thing? Maybe even how they’d like to be taken care of? It’s perfectly okay if you don’t want to do this 🤗
hi hi!! I’m a little sick rn but doing good because I’m finally done with school >:3 also u make me blush sweet anon… I’m glad my stuff makes you happy!! sorry it took a minute to get around to this but I’m indulging in some softer stuff while I sniffle away in bed :,) thanks for the request!!
Enhypen and Aftercare (OT6)
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pairings: Enhypen legal line x reader
warnings: 18+, minors dni, mentions of sex but not pure smut, fem bodied!reader
Heeseung
His face contorts into an expression halfway between pain and pleasure as he slow lying inches his sensitive length out of you, a breathless “hahh” escaping him as he shivers, collapsing onto you. It pulls an unexpected grunt out of you, followed by a series of giggles as he borrows into your neck, huffs of hot air tickling your sensitive skin.
“What the fuck” he whines out. You feel his hands squeeze your hips “your pussy is crazy”. The seriousness in his voice has you caught between a belly laugh and a faux scandalized gasp, swatting his ass gently as you scold him for such crude words. “I’m serious! You. Your body. You’re just perfect…” small pecks between each word, sleepy yawns, and a dopey heeseung clinging to you like a koala. Has fallen into the routine of fucking you before bed, claims it’s “the only way I can sleep now. Need you so bad”, and it might just be true because you can already feel the gentle vibrations of his snores against your collarbone.
Jay
Don’t play rn Jay is literally the embodiment of doting aftercare. The routine is locked and mf loaded. After he bullies your cunt until it’s sore and you are sure you can’t walk, this pillow talk starts. This part is just as much for you as it is for him, because he doesn’t think he could walk right now either. Promises of a future together, a catch-up on how your days have been, chats about if you liked the newest thing he introduced to your romp in the sheets. Just hearing your sweet voice cut through the quiet of night is enough to reground him (plus, he really does care about what you have to say).
I think he’s a little lazy with clean up, keeps a pack of wet wipes at the bedside table to give you both a once over, makes a half-promise to shower with you in the morning, and then rolls over to spoon you, peppering light kisses down your neck as your naked bodies intertwine to watch an episode of your guys’ favorite tv show. To Jay, aftercare is just as intimate as the actual sex. Unintentionally romantic in every way.
Jake
He’s the one that needs the most extensive aftercare, and come on, doesn’t he deserve it? He will eat you out for hours until you are kicking and squealing and prying him away by his hair. He will fuck into you from behind like it’s his sole purpose on his earth. And when all is said and done, he can hardly talk, slipping between English and Korean as he mumbles out a mix of curses and “so good, princess, so good”.
We wants you to play with his hair, curling up into your chest and peppering light kisses across your skin. He won’t admit how his heart skips a beat when you coo out a soft “good boy” to him, instead, he playfully bites you in retaliation. He won’t say anything about it, though. He loves the extra soft treatment, it’s like a reward for pushing himself to his limits to make you feel good.
Sunghoon
He’s such an angel. He’s sweeping you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. It doesn’t matter how big you are, he insists on carrying you because you are his baby (“you know, I don’t lift all those weights for nothing” cue the cheesy flexing). Lets you soak in the shower for a bit while he changes the sheets and prepares pajamas for you. Big believer in actions speak louder than words.
“Was I too rough on you today?” he pouts, slipping into the shower after finishing his post-coital rounds and eyeing the redness that has stuck around on the meat of your ass. No amount of reassurance of you liking it will erase the worried expression, eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed into a thin line. The only thing that makes him stop, makes him burst out into laughter and splash water at you, is the promise you make to spank him next time around.
Sunoo
I’m sorry but he is definitely crying afterwards. Y’all know I’m not on the babygirl Sunoo agenda all the time, but this is something I’m absolutely positive about. He’s just so overwhelmed with emotion, so happy that you trust him to see you in such a vulnerable state, so happy to be with you, so in love with you, the tears are forming in his eyes the moment he watches you reach your finish underneath him. “My pretty girl” sniffle sniffle “you’re so- fuck- so gorgeous”. Doesn’t matter how long you have been together, there is about a 50% chance of tears every time you guys fuck.
He tends to get embarrassed about crying like that so please give him lots of reassurance :(. Gets a little shy and whiny at vocalized praise, but loves gentle back rubs and showers together. Let him wash and dry you, he likes to feel like he is taking care of you just as much as you take care of him <3.
Jungwon
I’m sorry he’s so silly and sweet after. Needs to make you laugh after an intense moment. Eases his mind to see you so happy after being so vulnerable (firm believer in the wonie softie agenda). Still naked as the day he was born as he playfully wrestles with you in the sheets. He’s right next to your ear, letting our exaggerated high-pitches moans and squeals of “wonnie harder!”. He giggles at your indignant protests, reassuring you that he loves how you can’t get enough of your “very hot and sexy boyfriend”.
He seems like the type that needs to be constantly moving, fetching you towels and water and hand feeding you snacks. “Anything for you, babycakes”. Cheesy ass grin while calling you corny pet names in a teasing voice, dodging the pillow you launch his way.
END.
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a/n: reminder that requests are open. I have some to work through and might not do all requests I get, but I love hearing from y’all :3 also this isn’t proofread, just like every thing else 😭 xx - princess
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eomayas · 5 months ago
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we can’t be friends (wait for your love) • jww [req]
pairing: non-idol!wonwoo x f!reader, fwb2l au
genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!, fluff, angst
request: you start to have feelings for you FWB. unbeknownst to you, he feels the same way.
warnings: p in v, oral (f receinving), unprotected s*x, hand holding during intercourse, miscommunication, wonwoo is a munch
a/n: thank you for the request! i hope you like it :) it’s a bit long
lying in wonwoo’s arms with your cheek pressed against his bare chest, you think to yourself: i could get used to this. but the thought is quickly stripped from your mind, vanishing within a second once you remember that this isn’t something to get used to. it’s strictly no strings attached, and lying on his chest every night comes with strings that he is adamant about not having. “i don’t want to be tied down,” his voice echos in your head, practically taunting you ever time you think about him as more; more than just this guy that you sleep with a few times a week, more than just a booty call. simply more. you lightly shake your head as if you’re trying to get rid of any thoughts of him. “hmm?” he mumbles from above you, hand tightening around your arm ever so slightly.
“nothing,” your voice is nearly a whisper, hoarse from previously crying out his name, and not having talked for awhile. wonwoo hums and sweeps his hand from your arm to your bare hip. it’s not long before his fingers are rubbing your skin and you’re fighting to keep your interest in the tv show he put on. he’s aware that you’re trying to ignore him, but because he can feel your warm, bare heat against his upper thigh he doesn’t wait for you to finally give in.
“hey,” he says, drawing your attention. you flick your eyes up at him, and he almost smiles at how cute you look with your cheek smooshed against him and your eyes wide and innocent. you see the corner of his lip twitch, but it’s so quick that you worry you nearly imagined it. with a tilt of his head, he’s beckoning you up towards him.
you straddle his lap, settling against his stomach. you arch down to him, pressing your lips against him and holding yourself up by pressing your hands flat against his firm chest. wonwoo grips onto your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh and softly massaging and kneading your ass.
it’s hard to not want more from wonwoo when he touches and kisses you like this, like you’re the only thing he wants in this world, at this moment, in this lifetime. you consider that maybe it’s the bare minimum, that he should feel like this anyway because he’s about to fuck you, but you don’t really have much time to think deeper because he’s biting your bottom lip before running his tongue over it. “lemme eat you out,” he rasps, grip on your ass tightening.
wordlessly, you topple off of him onto the bed and he’s rolling on top of you, hands planted on the bed beside either side of your head. he kisses you again before trailing his lips down to your jaw, sucking on the underside until you breathe out a little sigh. he continues down, lips kissing down your neck and skating over your collar bones. he usually sucks marks into your skin, but he’s eager to get his mouth on you.
he kisses the tops of your breasts and bypasses your nipples to kiss down the valley of your breasts until he gets to your stomach. your hands rest on his upper back, nails already lightly pressing into his skin in anticipation. wonwoo flicks his eyes up to yours when he gets to the top of your pelvis, the look he gives you enough to make you tense up and part your legs wider. wonwoo smirks and presses a long kiss to your inner thigh, this time sucking a hickey into the skin. above him, you relax against the pillows and smooth your hand over this hair, your touch featherlight.
wonwoo pretends that he doesn’t feel something inside of him twitch at your soft gesture. he attempts to calm himself down by remembering that everything is heightened right now because you’re about to have sex—though that makes him freeze because what you two are supposed to be doing is just sex. nothing more, nothing less that that. he shouldn’t be feeling things because you’re touching his hair when he’s between your legs. “wonwoo,” you call out, palm applying light pressure on the crown of his head as you try to urge him lower onto your core.
ah—you only wanted him to get on with it. at least that’s what he tells himself; it does enough to calm him down, and he sinks lower, kneeling at the foot of the bed and pulling you towards the end of the mattress, until your glistening core is in front of his face. usually he makes you beg for his mouth, but this is for him as much as it’s for you, so he wastes no more time and sticks out his tongue to lick an experimental stripe from your hole to your clit.
you thread your your fingers through his hair with your left hand, a loose grip on the strands. wonwoo licks up your folds again, his tongue flat and relaxed against you. he flicks his tongue against your clit and you gasp, core tightening around nothing but aching for him. another gasp from you, and he finally buries his face into your cunt, arms hooking around your thighs to hold them open around his head.
your back arches off the bed when he suctions his lips around your clit, seemingly trying to suck the soul out of you. “w-wonwoo,” you breathe out, pressing down onto his head and gripping onto the sheets with your free hand. your chin drops against your chest and you try to keep your eyes open to watch him, but between him sucking on your clit and prodding at your hole with his tongue, it’s proving to be difficult.
wonwoo pulls you impossibly closer, nose bumping against your sensitive mound as he licks you from the inside out, bobbing his head as he does. you moan and whimper above him each time his nose rubs against your clit, your hips bucking up into his face. wonwoo releases his hold from around your legs to press against the insides of your thighs. “stop moving,” he mumbles from in between your legs, grunting when you close your legs around his head due to the vibrations from his voice against your core.
“sorry,” you squeak, shakily opening your legs wider for him. wonwoo retracts one of his hands to slip two fingers inside of you, curling and drawing out moans from you that only spur him on. “w-wonwoo, please!” you whine, throwing your head back and jerking your hips upwards. you’re not sure what you’re begging for; maybe to make you cum soon, for mercy, for more.
he growls something between your legs and shoulders his way in between your thighs, keeping you spread open. your chest rises and falls rapidly with every flick of his tongue and thrust of his fingers inside of you. a tight knot forms in the pit of your stomach, the pressure building and building the longer he works you out on his tongue. “fuck, wonwoo,” you whimper out, grip on his hair tightening.
the satisfying sting on his scalp spurs him on, mouth ravishing you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to eat you out. you cry out curses, thighs shaking against his shoulders.
euphoria reaches you almost without warning, your cunt spasming around his fingers as you release gushes out of you. wonwoo laps at you, his tongue eagerly licking up your juices. he pulls his fingers out of you, and you feel so empty but don’t have much time to worry about that while wonwoo continues to eat you out through your orgasm. it’s as enjoyable for him as it is for you—he could eat you out all day if given the opportunity.
“w-won,” you pant, vision spotty as your legs tremble. his eyes drag up to yours, pure hunger swimming in his orbs. one look at you, and he (reluctantly) pulls his mouth off of your core, lips glistening from your arousal. wonwoo kisses the inside of your thigh, his hand stroking your knee, before he sits back and licks his lips. “t-thanks.” you rasp, draping an arm over your eyes.
“give me minute,” you croak, sweat beading along your forehead and sliding down your temple. wonwoo doesn’t mind; hes patient and not in a rush. he gets off of the floor and stretches, rolling his neck and sighing when his joints crack and pop. he stretches his arms above his head, the tension in his shoulder blades releasing with a dull pop.
while you recover, he walks over to the drawer where he keeps his condoms and grabs the box. it feels light, and he shakes it to double check. when nothing rattles, he feels his heart sink and peers into the box in disbelief. “i’m out of condoms,” he says incredulously, running a hand through his hair.
“oh,” is all you say, your tone lacking disappointment. wonwoo gnaws at his bottom lip for a moment, staring down at the empty box of trojans.
“i’ll pull out?” he asks, ear turning red in mild embarrassment. he is expecting a ‘no’, for this night to be over quicker than he really wants—you’re never here longer than you want to be—and he won’t really be upset if you say ‘no’, because it’s risky, and you two aren’t really there in your relationship. there’s only been one night where you two didn’t use protection; it was after a night spent drinking together. the next morning he brought you a plan b, and the two of you didn’t speak for a few days.
wonwoo tries his hardest to keep everything between the two of you casual, just like how you said you wanted it to be between the two of you. sometimes those lines get blurred, and he doesn’t always know how to gauge your feelings without asking (which he rarely does), thus leading him to asking you risky questions like his previous one.
“okay.”
wonwoo whips his head around to look at you upon hearing your response. you’re still lying flat on your back with an arm thrown across your face. “what?”
“i said ‘okay’” your voice is calm, almost too calm that it makes him wonder if you’re aware of what you’re agreeing to. but wonwoo rushes over to you anyway, crawling on top of you and pulling your arm away from your face.
“are you sure?”
“hurry before i change my mind,” you mumble, parting your legs once again and inviting him to get closer. wonwoo scrambles to grab his glasses off of his bedside table and slides them on before repositioning himself in between your legs.
his cock is achingly hard—has been since he started eating you out—and waiting to be enveloped by you. wonwoo isn’t sure he’ll last that long without a condom, but you look worn out enough that he thinks you probably won’t mind.
grabbing the base of his dick, wonwoo lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes his way in. you let out a sharp gasp, propping yourself up on your shoulders to watch him push inside of you. “fuck, y/n,” he grunts, willing himself to keep his composure. “you feel that?”
“yea,” your voice cracks when you say it, body flushing with heat. you can feel every ridge, every vein, and every curve much more fully than you ever have. you are already worked up from wonwoo alone, but you feel as though it won’t take much to get you off again, not when you are experiencing this new sensation so wholly.
wonwoo grunts his way inside of you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. he pushes in until he can’t go any further, and holds himself inside of you for a second. your cunt pulses around him like it’s trying to pull him in further. “god, you feel good,” he groans, his head dropping down to his chest. his gaze falls on where he’s buried inside of you, where he fits in you like you were designed for him. “fuck.” he whispers.
you suck in a breath when he pulls out, and whimper when he pushes back inside. he finds a rhythm and you get lost watching him disappear inside of you, and then reappear. he doesn’t go fast, nor does he fuck you nice and slow. it’s in the middle, taking you right to the edge and giving you some time to recover. “unh- wonwoo,” you moan, falling flat on your back.
“yeah?”
you lick your lips, feeling a little embarrassed when you say, “i want a kiss.” it feels too intimate for your relationship, but so does him fucking you raw. you were never one to think too deeply about soul ties when it came to sex, but now you’re not so sure it was all junk.
wonwoo is quick to capture your lips in a kiss, one hand on you hip and the other planted near your head on the bed. you grip onto his sides as you kiss him back, mouth falling open to whine out his name. with every thrust inside of you, coupled with his chest pressed against your own and his mouth on yours, you feel closer and closer to the edge. he can tell with the your cunt squeezes him in tightly, and how your lips are pressed against his own that you’re close.
“yeah? you’re close?” he asks, kissing the corner of your lip and dragging his mouth down to your jaw, sucking a mark into the skin at your neck.
“s-so close,” you gasp out, whining when he pulls his mouth off of your neck and plants both of his hands on the bed. the need to be close to him washes over you, burns in your chest and your stomach and spreads down to your toes.his next thrust into you knocks the breath from your lungs. he grunts each time he moves inside of you, curses falling from both of your lips.
there’s nothing simple or casual, or friendly about what the two of you are doing. it’s all too intimate and is definitely going to complicate things later. he’s not somebody who wants to be attached to another person, not right now at least, but it feels like maybe he does. he looks down at you with an expression that makes you feel too much all at once, things that you’re not supposed to feel for a guy you’re just sleeping with.
you’re overcome with with feeling needy, nearly whining in frustration at the thought. you grab onto his wrist, trying to pull his hand from the bed and into your palm. “w-what?” he groans, looking down at you before sliding his gaze to where you have a hold on him. the corner of his lip quirks when you make grabby hands at him. “oh.” he says simply, interlocking your fingers together.
your orgasm hits your without warning, washing over you much more intensely than your last one. you’re chanting his name as your cunt spasms and your legs shake. “ah!” you moan, back arching off the bed and your chest pressing up into his.
liquid runs down your thighs and drips down onto the sheets below. wonwoo pants, his cock twitching inside of you. reluctantly, he pulls out with some difficulty because of how tight your cunt is around him, and shoots his cum onto your stomach, painting you white.
“fuck, sorry,” wonwoo rasps, placing a quick kiss on your lips. he’s never liked how it felt cumming on you, rather than inside of a condom or in your mouth. it felt rude, and a little demeaning, and it was never going to be his first option when it came to dumping his load. “i’ll grab a towel.”
you hardly register his cum on you until he’s wiping the inside of your thighs and then your stomach. your eyelids are heavy and can hardly stay open, fluttering shut every second before reopening when he touches you. “thanks,” you murmur, voice laden with sleep. wonwoo chuckles and says ‘you’re welcome’, but you’re too far gone to hear him.
when you wake up, it’s a couple hours later and you’re by yourself in his bed still bare. the tv is off, as well as the lights, so it’s pitch black save for the sunset shining through his window. you sit up and wince, a type of soreness between your thighs.
you slip out of his bed and find your discarded clothes and pull them on. standing in the middle of the room, you place your hands on your hips and sigh. a thousand emotions and questions are swimming through your head—confusion and what does this all mean? leading the pack. the empty, discarded box of condoms sits on his dresser like a trophy for what you two just did. you rub your forehead and gnaw on your bottom lip.
with a sigh, you grab the rest of your belongings and shove them into the tote bag you brought over and make your way out of his bedroom and down the hall. noise comes from the kitchen where wonwoo rifles through his nearly empty cupboards. “hey,” you say, making him jump and whip around.
“holy shit, hey,” he says, a hand over his heart. “you scared the shit out of me.”
“sorry,” you say, one of your hands holding onto your wrist.
“how’d you sleep?” he asks, shutting the cupboard and leaning against the counter, his arms crossing over his broad chest. his hair is still rumpled from earlier, though it looks like he just woke up from a nap as well.
“fine, i guess,” you say. he nods awkwardly and you dodge his eye contact.
“that’s good; i just woke up from a nap too,” he says. you look over at him with furrowed eyebrows, because he wasn’t in the bed with you. “i fell asleep on the couch.” wonwoo adds, like he just read your mind.
you nod and purse your lips. “you could’ve slept in your bed,” you say, shifting your weight from foot to foot.
“didn’t want to bother you.”
“it’s your bed.”
“you’re my guest,” he says, seemingly ending the debate. guest. that’s all you are to him—a guest. a guest in his bed, his house, his life—a guest. not permanent, just passing through for a moment.
it’s quiet for a moment. you don’t know what to say to him. “alright, well i’ll get out of you way,” you say, running a hand over your head before some hair behind your ear.
“you’re not in my way,” wonwoo says, pushing himself off the counter when you make a move to leave. “you don’t have to leave.”
“i should,” you reply, walking quickly to the door to put on your shoes. wonwoo is right behind you, right on your trail. you shove your feet into your sneakers and ignore wonwoos presence behind you.
stealing a quick glance over your shoulder, you’re met with a hard expression from wonwoo. his eyes are squinted behind his lenses and his jaw is tight, like he’s trying to figure you out. it sends a chill down your back and you turn away from him and slip out of the front door wordlessly, without a chance to hear him say goodbye.
three days go by before you see wonwoo again. he texts you first, sending you a come over text at 9:30 on a thursday. you almost ignored it, unsure of yourself, but your feelings for him got the best of you and you immediately texted back an omw and got in your car.
currently, his hands are skating underneath your shirt and up your sides to rest underneath your breasts. you grind on his lap, hands threading in his hair. your lack of communication with him was to see if you could get over how you felt about him, to see if you could withstand him and his charm. but clearly, you can’t.
you pull back from his mouth to let him pull off your top. you’re leaning back into him when he stops you by putting his hand on your abdomen. “can we talk?” he asks, voice a little breathless.
“about?” you connect your lips to his neck, sucking a purposeful hickey into his skin when his hands skate up your back and stop short of the clasp for your bra.
“about us.”
major bomb drop. you freeze against him, your hands stilling in his hair and your lips losing their suction around his neck. your heart hammers in your chest, and you wonder if he can feel it with how close your two are pressed against each other.
never would you ever think that he’d be the one to bring up the topic of you two. you didn’t even expect him to reach out to you first—you’re surprised that you didn’t crack after the first day—and you definitely didn’t expect him to see a problem with your relationship. pulling back, you place your hands on his shoulders and peer down at him. “what is there to talk about?”
wonwoo literally bites his tongue, the words ‘i miss you’ sitting on the tip. “did i take it too far the other day?” he questions, referring to asking to fuck you without a condom. you roll your eyes and get off of his lap, grabbing your shirt off of the floor.
“no,” you say, yanking it over your head. “i fully agreed to it, wonwoo. if i didn’t want to do it, i would have said no.” you say, blowing some hair out of your face. you don’t know why you feel so frustrated all of a sudden.
“then what is it?” he asks, feeling like he’s grasping for straws trying not to expose how he feels about you.
“what is what?”
wonwoo runs a hand through his hair. he feels you staring, waiting for him to expose whatever he feels like he can’t say to you. “can i be honest with you?”
“please.”
he sucks in a breath before he starts. “im starting to really like you. well, ive liked you for awhile, actually. and i know you probably don’t wan to hear this, because i know you just want to keep it casual, and- wait,” you interrupt him, your nerves feeling like they’re working in overdrive. “what?”
you drag a hand down your face. “i thought you wanted to keep it casual,” you say, hand curling over your mouth when he slowly shakes his head.
“no, that was you,” he says, but his tone is unsure now that you’ve counteracted him. “right?”
“only because you said it first,” you say, and the gears start to turn into place for the both of you. your little arrangement wasn’t mutually understood—more like it was mutually misunderstood—and the other was just going along with what was said, just for the sake of the other person. “wonwoo, you said you didn’t want any strings.”
he cringes when you say it out loud. “true, but that was before,” wonwoo clarifies. you furrow your eyebrows.
“before when?”
his cheeks turn a cute shade of pink and he adjusts his glasses. “before we hung out for the second time,” it’s embarrassing admitting it out loud, but it’s the truth. when the two of you started sleeping together, he meant it when he said that he didn’t want to be tied down. but after you two hung out again, and the ‘friends’ part of friends-with-benefits showed itself, he knew he was a goner. you made him laugh so easily, and made him feel like he could be himself around you. it wasn’t long until he started missing your presence and was mourning your absences.
you stare at him in complete shock. “are you serious?” he nods, and you let out slight chuckle, lightly shaking your head. “there’s no way.” you mutter to yourself. wonwoo tenses, waiting for the blow of you telling him that you don’t feel the same.
“if you don’t feel the same, it’s fine,” wonwoo says quickly, wiping around his mouth to give his hands something to do. you shake your head just as fast, eyes wide.
“no! i mean, i do, wonwoo. i like you too—a lot—i just…” you trail off and run a hand through your hair unsteadily.
“you just what?”
you shrug. “i don’t know, actually,” you giggle. wonwoo smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. you notice and take a seat next to him on the couch, angling your body towards him. “wonwoo, you’re great. the sex is great, everything is great. but i do want more with you. i like you so much, it was starting to hurt,” you say, not caring about how pathetic he might think you sound. you get the feeling that he doesn’t care how you sound, because he tugs you into his lap again, his arms securing around your waist.
“i want more with you too. and im pretty sure i like you way more than you like me,” he says, a smile on his face.
“mhm. whatever,” you say, running a hand over his hair just like you did the other day. wonwoos eyes flutter shut and you drag your hand down to rest on his cheek. “hey.” you murmur.
“what?”
“thank you.”
“for what?”
you shrug and lightly stroke his cheek. “just, thank you.”
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totalswag · 2 months ago
Note
Please a Drew and reader. They are in the dating faze getting to know each other. However Drew is having some trouble getting to know her. Reader has been in a quite toxic relationship before with a guy that could be mean, did not like when she was being physically loving (holding hands, kissing, hugging) brushing her off literally and could sometimes make her feel like she was being a burden whenever she was talking, which in turn has made her not open up to much, in fear, that she will come off as annoying. When they are having a date at home, Drew pulls her close to hold her and kiss her forehead, but she pulls away after awhile. He then brings up what has been bothering him, afraid, sad and a bit nervous that she does not like him as much as he likes her.
you can trust me — DREW STARKEY
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authors note hi baby! thank you for the request and sorry it came so late when you initially requested. life has been crazy since my semester has begun.
REQUEST— open
summary holding back when it comes to physical touch and being your complete self in a new relationship with someone new.
warning(s) mentions of past toxic relationships, insecurities, questioning self-worth.
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Drew and you have been seeing each other for almost a month. You haven't felt so happy in a long time to be with someone that values, supports, and loves you for who you are.
Meeting him was unexpected but came into your life when you needed him the most. Drew is very gentle with you and patient in ways you couldn't describe.
Drew has noticed that you are reluctant to touch him and quickly pull away or get nervous before taking his hand. This is something he has noticed about you as you have spent more time with him. He wants to know why you're like this but wants you to be comfortable.
Both are getting to know one other. You haven't gathered the guts to discuss your previous relationship with your ex, who treated you like dirt and never wanted you to touch him. Whether it be holding hands, kissing, embracing, or any other physical contact.
Physical touch is a part of your love language. So being pushed away from someone you care about while attempting to express your feelings for them makes you feel burdened.
Your ex ruined you in a lot of ways.
Once you met Drew, immediately knowing you can be yourself with him without him retaliating. But, you haven't showed him that side of you yet because of your past.
Drew invited you to his apartment for dinner tonight and prepared your favorite pasta dish. He understands you've had a difficult week at work, so he thought inviting you over for dinner would cheer you up.
"Thank you for dinner, Drew; it was delicious," you say, smiling sweetly as you finish your pasta.
"I really appreciate that, Y/N," he says with a smile. "I'm always open to making you dinner."
He’s so sweet
Drew and you cleaned the kitchen before heading to the living room to watch a movie to end the night. He thought it would be good to bring out the food and drinks while you waited on the couch.
"What movie do you wanna watch?" With the TV remote in his left hand while looking at the movie selections.
"Uhh pitch perfect" you reply.
Drew nods in agreement, clicking the movie.
Drew tries to wrap his right arm around your shoulder and kiss you on the forehead halfway through the film, but you pull away hesitantly.
"Everything alright, Y/N?" he frowns with emotion and confusion, "did I do something wrong?"
Your heart fell as the question hovered there. You had been sensing this for days, even weeks, so you knew it was coming. But now that it was here, you were at a loss for words, unable to respond or justify it without driving him away.
When you eventually raised your head to meet his, you could feel the sorrow in his eyes, which tightened your chest. Your voice was barely heard as you murmured, "No, you didn't do anything wrong."
Everything in you was crumbling all together.
"Then why?" With a hand sweeping through his hair, he trailed off, unsure of how to carry on. "Why are you putting distance between us? Are you —? When he began again, you could hear his hesitation and fragility in his voice. "Do you not like me as much as I like you?"
Please don't say that
His words punched you in the gut— hitting you so deep. This wasn't fair to him what so ever. You like him as much as he likes you. Feelings are mutual.
"It's not that," you answered hastily, your voice shaking as you tried to fight back the tears that were about to fall. Yes, Drew, I do like you. Many times.
"So why," He asked. Seeking answers, he gazed at you, his eyes darting over yours. "What makes me think that you're scared to let me in?"
Fiddling with your fingers, trying to gather the words to say. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. Drew knows about your last relationship but not the whole gist.
“I’ve been hurt before,” you began, your voice trembling. “My last relationship… it wasn’t good. He made me feel like I was too much, like I was annoying whenever I tried to talk or show affection. He’d brush me off, make me feel like I was a burden. And I guess… I guess I’m afraid of that happening again.”
Drew's expression softens with hurt, anger, and confusion. He continues to let you speak while holding your hands in reassurance—thumb gently circling over your knuckles. You can't help but let a few tears as you speak.
"I'm so sorry you went through that."
"It's not your fault. I've gotten so used to holding everything in, I didnt want you to think of me differently and walk away from me" you confess with your chest.
Drew's other hand reached up to softly cup your cheek and use his thumb to wipe away the tears while his grip on your hand tightened. He said, "You're not going to drive me away," and you might believe him because of the quiet passion in his voice. 
"Y/N, I like you just the way you are. I was immediately drawn to your lovely demeanor and am still doing so now. Nothing you are doing is wrong. His eyes never leaving yours, "We can take this at any pace you want and I'll still be here."
You feel a sense of relief fall off your shoulders. The fear you've been holding back slowly drifts away.
"I want you to show how much you like me whether that be words or physical touch. I would never pull you away."
You didn't push away as he moved in to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. For the first time in a long time, you felt as though maybe—just maybe—you could begin to lower your barriers as you allowed yourself to lean into him and experience the warmth and security of his embrace.
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flippinpancakes64 · 3 months ago
Note
the cullens with a reader who isn't the best at showing emotions so their way of showing love is by biting? Like not hard but gently.
BTW I love your writing, keep up the good work 💞
The Cullens with a reader who bites
Thank you for the kind words! And I definitely relate to this prompt. But with my cat. Like cuteness aggression is real and I’m a victim. Petting her isn’t enough I need to eat her yk
Anyways thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!
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Edward:
He understands a little bit
He can hear the thoughts in your head, he sees how much they overwhelm you
It happened the first time when he was over at your house for a movie date
He was wearing casual clothes, a hoodie and some sweatpants
He wanted to make sure you had something soft to lay your head on
But something happened when you saw him in the hoodie
Your mind lit up, fireworks going off, sprinkled with phrases of how “cute” he looked and how you wanted to crawl into his skin
He called you over to him and let you squeeze him as hard as you wanted, but it still wasn’t enough
He could hear the frustration in your mind about how you were still unsatisfied
He was about to suggest climbing into his hoodie with him when he felt you bite down on his bicep
He was shocked to say the least
But you know what, at least it helped
He tries to limit how much you can bite him in public, but when it’s just the two of you, he lets you do what you want
He’s an enabler, what can I say
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Alice:
She didn’t even see it coming the first time
Which is rare for her
You were sitting on her bed with your eyes closed since Alice had a gift she wanted to give to you
You opened your eyes and saw a bracelet made of brown, gold and *insert your eye color here* beads
On her wrist was a matching one
You sprang up and tackled her in a hug immediately
You both would have fallen if she didn’t have inhuman strength
But hugging her wasn’t enough
So you bit her
She felt a pressure on her right shoulder, just above where her shirt ended, right on her skin
She didn’t know what it was until she felt the heat and faint wetness
She thought it was tears to be honest
So she was definitely shocked when she pulls you back and sees your mouth wide open and your eyes perfectly dry
“… did you just bite me?”
“…no…”
“You’re so silly”
She lets you bite her as much as you want
It’s not like it affects her
Just so long as you don’t get drool on her clothes
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Jasper:
He can also feel how strong your emotions are
He’s never felt someone who feels things so strongly
Honestly, he’s surprised you can even live a normal life
One day you’re just sitting on the couch, playing on your phone while a movie plays on the tv
Suddenly, your phone starts to jostle a little bit
You look and see Jasper putting a charging cable into your phone
“What’s that for?”
“Your battery was getting pretty low, figured you could use some charge”
And like nothing even happened, he goes back to playing mobile games on his phone
You become so overcome with emotion, so much love just fills your body
He can feel your emotions start to fry, threatening to overflow
He’s about to send some calmness your way when he feels you chomp down onto his forearm
He’s so shocked he doesn’t even move
You quickly unlatch, moving away and apologizing, but he just smiles
“It’s alright, darling. I’d rather have your teeth marks here than the ones I’ve got now”
So charming
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Rosalie:
The day of Prom is here
You didn’t want to go, but you would never deny Rosalie a chance to dress up
So that’s how you found yourself here, fully dressed and waiting on Rosalie to finish getting her hair and makeup done
You hear her heels click towards the closed door and turn your eyes as it creaks open
There stands Rosalie, beautiful golden hair pulled into an intricate updo, her makeup perfectly accentuating her natural beauty, and a dark red dress that sweeps the floor
You just couldn’t contain yourself
You latch onto her, biting into her exposed shoulder
She yelps out of shock, definitely not expecting that
You try to walk away and pretend it didn’t happen, but she’s not one for that
She has similar rules to Alice, only no biting her in public
She loves that you love her so much that you can’t contain it
That’s what she’s always wanted after all
Overall, though, she doesn’t mind
Just seriously, don’t mess with the clothes
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Emmett:
He was literally just sitting there
Like not doing anything, sitting on the couch, watching a movie that you had put on
You had gotten up to get some more popcorn and had to just pause to take him in
He looked so cute bundled up in the couch, your favorite blanket thrown around him from earlier
You set the popcorn down on the table and leaped at him
He didn’t even get a chance to react
Suddenly you were on top of him, your arms wrapped in a vice grip around his throat, your legs fully koala-ed around his middle
You were kissing every single surface on his face, whispering how cute he looked and how much you love him in between
He was giggling like a little girl, his face would be beet red if he could still blush
When suddenly he feels your teeth on his shoulder
“Pump the brakes there, piranha, what’s that for?”
“Sorry Em, I just love you so much I can’t control myself”
“Damn, do I at least taste good?”
He thinks it’s hilarious
He calls you his little snapping turtle
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Esme:
She’s confused
She just asked what you wanted for dinner and now your teeth are in her arm
She doesn’t even shake you off she just kind of stands there
Like uhm are you okay?
You’re gonna need to explain to her why you did that
And afterwards she just laughs
She doesn’t fully understand, but that’s okay cause she also just doesn’t care
If it makes you happy then it makes her happy
She’ll let you bite her but with limitations
No biting in public
No biting her hair (not that you would anyway)
No biting her so hard that you hurt yourself
And she’ll eventually tell you to ease up after a while
“Darling? You’ve been there for a couple minutes now, you want to stop for a second please?”
Overall she’s confused but tries not to intervene
If this is what you need to do to express your love then go for it
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Carlisle:
He’s only ever been bitten once
And that wasn’t a very pleasant experience to say the least
So it’s the last thing he expects you to do
But let’s be honest, how could you resist?
He had rolled up the sleeves to his sleek button up, flipping through pages of his old medical books, looking for a specific article he wanted to show you
By now you’ve completely forgotten what you even asked him about
You just leaned in slowly and bit into his forearm, your teeth sinking in slightly to the strong muscles there
“… are you hungry?”
Genuinely confused
You can try to explain as much as you want, he’s still going to research it later
He doesn’t have very many rules as far as this goes
If you wanna bite him, then go for it
He thinks it’s a nice, fun thing
And it shows how much you love him
Everyone enjoys a nice ego stroke now and then
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Vampire! Bella:
She’s definitely felt cuteness aggression before
But never with another person
She was just sitting there helping you do your homework and you just.. bit her
“Did you just bite me?”
“…. No….”
“You’re a liar”
She doesn’t actually mind
She’s just so confused
She still envisions herself as that plain-looking clumsy girl
Like wdym SHES the one making you feral?
But she is flattered
Absolutely does NOT let you pull that shit in public tho
She’s still too shy for that
You’re gonna need to put a pin in it till you guys get home
But once you’re there… she still has limits
She’s not a big pda person
Or a big physical touch person
She’s like a cat
She’s okay with it for a little bit but too much and she needs you to stop
Think like one or two bites a day
Any more than that and she gets squirmy
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bkglovergirl · 5 months ago
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· ͟͟͞͞➳❥First kisses
Characters: Denki Kaminari and Katsuki Bakugou
If people are interested, I’ll write more.
Word Count; 777
ೃ⁀➷
➷Denki Kaminari
You are sprawled out on his bed, your head down near his as he sits on the floor, his legs out and his head resting on his bed. You both went through trying to pick out something to watch for about half an hour before you settled on some random romcom. The popcorn bowl next to Denki’s leg was empty when you both finally settled and got comfy. Not even a couple minutes into the movie, you had already closed your eyes; Denki’s bed was very comfortable and made you understand why he sometimes showed up late.
“Y/N.”
“Don’t talk during the movie.”
“You aren’t even watching the movie.” You open your eyes to see him facing you, and his face is too close for your liking.
“My point still stands.” You close your eyes again.
“Have you ever had your first kiss?” And your eyes are back open again. 
“What are you talking about? Have you?” Denki blushes and points to the TV.
“Well, they kissed, so it made me bring it up! What is it a weird question?!”
“Yes!” Denki rolls his eyes, and you speak again, “No, I haven't had my first kiss.”
“Well… I haven't either.” Denki looks at you and stares. “What?!”
“What do you mean what?!”
“I’m just...” he glances at the TV and then back at you, moving his leg and accidentally hitting the popcorn bowl. “Surprised?” you turn, lying on your back and staring at the ceiling.
“Why? It’s not that surprising.” Seeing the look on your face, Denki moves and gets on his knees, and You glance at him. “What are you doing?” He gets closer to your face.
“Yes or no?”
“Yes or no to what?!” The TV illuminates his face, and you can see the slight blush on his face.
“This could ruin our friendship, so yes or no?” getting the clear hint, you nod your head yes, and Denki leans down, a little too slow for your liking, and kisses you. Seconds goes by way too fast, and he moves away from you. He leans back on his knees, and you sit up and look at him, your heart beating so fast you think it will jump out of your chest. You go to say Denki’s name, but he beats you to it. “Wanna do it again?” he says with a smile. You nod, and he quickly jumps onto his bed.
➷Katsuki Bakugou
After your fight in class, you and Bakugou are assigned cleaning duty. It has been an hour of silence, with him glaring and you smirking, “I’m done sweeping.”
“Don’t start talking now.”
“Shut up and come with me to the storage closet.”
“Why are you scared?” You smack him with the rag you were also holding and he grumbles following after. Bakugou unlocks the closet and opens the door for you. 
“Aw, you do have a heart.” He mumbles some swears your way and follows you, letting the door shut. “Wait, hold the-.” the door slams shut, and the closet is pitch black. “You mother fucker, I don’t know where the light switch is; open the door again!” you hear movement and a door knob shake.
“I can’t.
“What?!”
“I FUCKING CAN’T!” he groans. You drop the stuff you were holding carefully and move around; you bump into something. “Are you really that scared?” You blush, realizing you were pressed against Bakugou. You go to move back, and you feel him grab you.
“Oh fuck off.” he brings his hands down to your hands and brings them up to his face, and kisses the palm of your hands. “Stop fucking around.”
“I’m not.” he brings your hands back down. “I’ve been waiting for a moment like this.”
“A moment in the closet?”
“You know what I mean!” You laugh, and Bakugou rolls his eyes even if you can’t see, “Bring my hands to your face... Please.” You blush, doing as he says. “I would like to be able to see you while I do this but let me kiss you.” 
“Do it.” He leans down, trying not to bruise his ego and miss your lips. He kisses you softly, but once getting comfortable, he wraps his arms around you. You don’t know how long you guys were kissing before the door opened.
“Guys, did you get stuck… oh!” You two quickly separate and see a smirking Mina.
“Don’t you dare say anything, raccoon eyes!” Mina runs off, and Bakugou grabs your hand and chases after her, with you following, laughing.
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em-prentiss · 6 months ago
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The comfort of you
————
After a long case, you and Aaron soak in the comfort of each other.
Cw: non bau fem!reader, established relationship—you guys are married (you’re welcome), fluff, use of petnames, no use of yn, Aaron braiding reader’s hair, you’re clingy, he’s clingy
Word count: 1.3k
if you have any Aaron requests, lmk <3
————
Your eyes droop as you watch TV—or try to. 
It’s late, only a few lamps on in the living room, their warm light almost lulling you to sleep. But you force your eyes open. Aaron had called an hour ago, obvious relief in his voice as he told you he’d landed, and you’re determined to greet him.
Stifling a yawn, you bring the blanket up to your chin and try to focus on the show playing on the screen. It’s hard; the warmth of the blanket seeps into your bones and the quiet of your house makes you sink further into the couch, the TV volume turned down low. 
Your eyes have just fluttered shut when you hear the key turn in the lock, the door creaking open as Aaron walks in.
Immediately you perk up, sleep melting off your shoulders when you hear his quiet footsteps, the small relieved sigh he lets out at finally being home. His keys jingle as he drops them in the bowl, his briefcase falling to the floor with a low thud. 
Aaron walks into the living room and smiles when he sees you, sleepy and half sunken into the couch. His shoulders loosen as he approaches, his shoes thudding on the carpet. 
You smile as he leans over you, the scent of his cologne faint on his clothes. “Hi, honey.” Aaron murmurs into your forehead, his lips warm and familiar. “You didn’t have to wait up.”
“Wanted to,” you slur, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him into you. Aaron laughs softly as his knees hit the floor, his arms awkwardly wrapping around your back. You pay no mind to his struggle and press your cheek to his, your fingers slipping into the short hair at the nape of his neck.
“I missed you,” you hum contentedly, scratching your nails against his scalp.
He melts into you. Aaron’s hands tighten on your back and he squeezes gently, letting out a deep sigh as you twirl short strands of his hair around your finger.
“Missed you too, sweetheart.” His eyes flutter shut as you continue your gentle ministrations, but before he can drop his head on your shoulder you turn, nose bumping against his, and kiss him.
Aaron sighs into your mouth. He cups your soft cheek, the line of your jaw familiar beneath his fingers, and ignores the ache in his knees. He tastes like the coffee you know he drank on the jet to keep himself awake, so he could drive himself home to you. The tension leaks out of his shoulders as you scratch your nails against his scalp, once, twice.
You press a multitude of soft kisses on his skin; his jaw and cheeks and the corner of his lips. Aaron stays close, so close your nose bumps into his again, so close you can see his eyes turn into molten honey in the low lights of the living room. 
“Bed?” He whispers against the corner of your mouth.
You hum and reluctantly untangle yourself from him, throwing back the blanket and standing up. He takes your hand and you smile sleepily at the warmth of his fingers against yours. 
Wrapping your other hand around his bicep, you follow him mindlessly down the hall, feet thudding softly against the floor as he cracks open the door to Jack’s room.
He sweeps his gaze over the sleeping boy, any remaining tension leaking out of his body as Jack’s chest rises and falls beneath the covers. Aaron sticks his head in and stays a beat, breathing in and out in unison with his son before he closes the door and tugs you to your room.
He’s as equally reluctant as you are to let go of his hand, but it’s not exactly practical for him to sleep in his suit. 
You push his jacket off his shoulders, helping him shrug it off until it falls to a crumpled heap on the floor.
Aaron smiles softly. You give him a quick kiss before starting to undo his tie. “How was the case?” You murmur, the silk slipping through your fingers.
He sighs and you already know the answer. “Bad.” His brow creases as he unbuttons his shirt.
You frown and drop his tie to the floor. A slight tenseness is back in his shoulders and you surge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and halting his movements. 
Aaron sighs and buries his face in your neck, his arms tightly banding across your back.
“I’m sorry, baby.” You whisper. He holds you tighter, your chest pressed flush against his. There’s a desperateness to it, and it makes your heart ache. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 
“No,” he replies almost immediately, the single syllable heavy as it falls off his tongue. 
“Okay,” you hum, threading a hand through his hair as he breathes into your neck. You don’t try to move and you don’t loosen your grip. You hold on tight and soak in each breath Aaron takes with you, his chest pushing into yours when you both inhale. Eyelids drooping, you idly scratch his scalp, your nails making him simultaneously shiver and melt further into you.
It could’ve been a few hours before lets go, but the more logical part of your brain says it was a few minutes at most. Aaron reaches a hand out and grabs a strand of your hair between his fingers. 
He tugs lightly, his eyes pleading on yours. “Can I?” He murmurs.
The soft request makes you smile. “Sure, honey,” you stamp a gentle kiss on his lips and move to grab your comb from your dresser. 
Aaron changes into the sweatpants you left out for him and joins you in bed, the dip of the mattress from his weight making you sigh in contentment. You know the drill and settle between the cradle of his thighs, handing him your comb as you sink back against his chest.
Your eyes grow heavy from the first drag of the comb through your hair. Aaron starts at the bottom and gently untangles your hair, slowly running the comb through it. It’s dry, so he’s extra careful not to tug on any knots.
You rest your hands on his thighs and feel him relax further, the repetitive motion of brushing soothing something inside him, too. You think it’s a conditioned response by now, for both you and him. It’s become routine, to let him brush through your hair as you rest against his chest, fingertips tapping on his thighs while he gently braids it after.
Sometimes you two talk, sometimes you sit in silence. Tonight—today, really, it’s past midnight—you’re falling asleep in his arms, lulled by his warmth. Aaron separates your hair into three sections and your neck lolls forward.
“Honey?” He questions, his voice soft as he crosses the right section over the middle. You don’t respond but for a mumbled mnghh and he smiles. 
Quickly finishing off your braid, the ends unraveling without a tie, he gently shifts you to your side of the bed. You don’t stir as he lifts the blanket up to your chin and kisses your forehead. 
Aaron sets your comb down on his nightstand and rests his head against his pillow, his weary muscles sinking into the bed. Your even breaths skip across his skin and he smiles, taking your limp hand off your pillow and bringing your knuckles to his lips.
“Love you,” he murmurs, kissing your rings before he sets your hand back down, between your pillow and his. 
He doesn’t expect to sleep right away, his mind plagued with thoughts of the case, but you quieted it somehow. Lowered it down to a buzz, a distant hum somewhere far away. He knows he’ll have to deal with it later, but for now he just lets his eyes fall shut, his body recognizing yours, accepting the comfort you give so freely.
Within minutes, he’s asleep.
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homoquartz · 1 month ago
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🩷❤️🧡💛��💙💜
Still on my soapbox about how the cancellation of queer shows is tantamount to book bans. While 1 in 4 queer-inclusive shows are cancelled after only one season, the average streaming cancellation rate is only 12% (including shows with more than one season). It's part of the anti-LGBT sentiment sweeping the nation. This isn't a new phenomenon, but its impact is becoming more and more important.
When queer shows are cancelled, it sends the message that our stories are not valuable, are not wanted. It also steals away representation which not only normalizes queer people for straight audiences, but also allows queer people to feel seen and affirmed.
Queer folks still have dire mental health outcomes. It gets worse as more anti-LGBT laws are passed. There are mountains of evidence that representation improves mental health for and cultural attitudes towards queer people.
🌈 If you want to help, you can start by streaming the hell out of queer series on any platform. Get your friends and family in on it. Heartstopper, Dead Boy Detectives, and Our Flag Means Death are a solid place to start.
You can sign DBDA's petition, fill out Netflix's request form with specific queer shows you want renewed (once per day per device), and rate your favorite queer shows and episodes on IMDB. If you're on Twitter, check out the #CanceledByNetflix tag and the account @CancelNetflix. You can tweet at or message your preferred streaming platforms on most social media too (Facebook, Tiktok, Insta, Twitter, Tumblr).
And spread the word :) Our stories deserve to be told.
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