#i have my own answers to these so i'm just throwing these out there for fun!

[muddyorbsblr]

team loki pt1

See my full list of works here!

inspired by this TikTok POV

Summary: Thor poses a question that puts you in an uncomfortable situation, and causing you to give him a desperate and thinly-veiled half truth

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning/s: one (1) cuss word (nope, not sorry, Rogers); other than that…none? i think? this is mostly fluff with a side of slight angst?

Things to be aware of: mutual pining, idiots in love, Thor being a himbo

"Lady Y/N, may I ask a rather…personal question?"

You made sure to shut your Kindle before you looked up at Thor, bracing yourself for whatever the god of thunder might throw your way. However, nothing could have prepared you for the next words that came out of his unnecessarily nosy mouth.

"Are you in courtship with my brother?"

The common area filled with the sound of your sputtering bumbling reaction, as well as the borderline derisive laugh from Loki, who sat beside you. In fact the question caught him so off guard that he'd carelessly slammed his book shut.

"Are you out of your mind?!" you blurted out just as the raven haired god said, "Brother, don't be absurd."

Bitch please, only in my dreams, you finished in the safety of your mind. He could do so much better than me and he probably knows it.

What you didn't know is that Loki kept quiet his own sentiment. I should only be so fortunate. Every shake of your head and flippant denial felt like a dagger burrowing deeper into his heart.

"We're friends, Thunder," you answered, again biting back the words of Of course I'd love to be more, but that's neither here nor there. "That's it and that's all."

"I see…" Thor replied, the fond smile growing on his face putting both you and his brother in discomfort. "I'm glad."

"Excuse me?" you managed to croak out despite the lump that suddenly formed in your throat.

"Well if my brother is not what you fancy then that could only mean--"

"Whoa whoa whoa hold on there, buddy," you stopped him before he could even think of finishing the sentence. "I'm not into you like that, can you believe this doofus?" You looked to the god seated beside you, who surprisingly seemed even more tense than you were.

Jaw tense, eyes slightly squinted as he assessed the blond seated across from you. His entire body language suggested he was readying himself for a fight, which had you confused to no end. What stake did he have in this situation?

"Lady Y/N, I am no 'doofus', I promise you that," Thor said haughtily, shifting his posture to puff his chest out. "I will have you know that back in Asgard many a--"

"Well you're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy," you quipped. "I know you're gonna find it hard to get through that thick skull of yours, but not every woman with a pulse here wants to throw themselves at you pussy first. This isn't Asgard. And some people just like…different things."

You didn't dare even sneak a glance at the god of mischief beside you. But if you had, you would have seen that for a split second, his face lit up at your words. That for even a fleeting moment, he felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps because your fancies didn't lean towards his blond oaf of a brother, then there was even the slightest plausibility that he had a fighting chance to capture your attentions.

"Does that mean that you prefer…urgh what was it that Stark said about these unnecessary pedantic terms?" the blond Asgardian sighed. "Something about teams…?"

Your hand slapped down on the sofa, and you let out a frustrated groan. If he kept on prodding it wouldn't take long before he'd circle back to his brother and both of them would figure it out in record time. "Fine, Thor," you said, exasperated, throwing your hands in the air. "Yes. Not that it's any of your goddamn business, but yes. I am on the other team."

You really were. In a way. Just not in the way that Stark probably meant, considering that the billionaire genius didn't spend all that much time on social media these days.

So there was no way for him, or most of your teammates really, to know that the "teams" you were referring to were actually "Team Thor" or "Team Loki". Yes, the Internet was a messed up place that you wouldn't ever bother to understand at your fully grown age, but sometimes one of its considerably saner corners were mildly entertaining.

And in this case, that corner managed to wiggle you out of a near "egg on your face" situation.

"In that case, I hope you'll accept my sincerest apologies, Lady Y/N. For breaching on your privacy so--"

"Ham-fisted?" Loki spoke up, the slightest sneer still on his face. "As you always are?"

"Yes," he murmured. "Precisely. I hope this does not affect our friendship irreparably."

"Awww Thunder, of course it won't," you said with a click of your tongue, slightly feeling sorry for the goof that currently looked like a human embodiment of "sad wet dog". "Just give it a few weeks for that awkwardness to go away…because buddy you got me real worried there."

You stood up to take your leave from the common area, wanting nothing more than to get a drink and try to put all memories of the exchange behind you. Maybe if you acted fast you could hack your brain into not having to hold on to the trauma of watching how Loki's face curled up in disgust over even the thought of you two being perceived as a couple.

"Ohh! Lady Y/N, I distinctly remember that Lady Olivia in Research is also--"

"Appreciate the offer to wingman, Thor, but I'm all good, thanks!" you said over your shoulder, walking even faster to get out of there and return to your apartment.

Once you were out of earshot, Loki turned to his brother, conjuring a dagger in his hand pointed at the oaf. "What in the Nine was that, Brother?" he nearly hissed the last word. "This will be the last time I ever make the mistake of confiding in you who it is I wish to court. Norns, you cannot even help yourself, can you? Your ego is as fragile as rice paper that you have to prove that somehow everyone I ever set my sights on will prefer you."

"Loki, I--"

"Well in this rather unfortunate and might I say humiliating turn of events, at least I have been granted the fleeting consolation that she prefers neither of us. Perhaps I can derive some form of happiness from that--"

"Brother, I apologize," Thor blurted out. "I did not set out on this foolish endeavor of mine to scorn you and thieve away Lady Y/N's affections for myself. Though now I do understand how my actions may not translate consistently with my intent."

"No, no they really hadn't, you oaf."

"At the risk of my friendship with Lady Y/N, I posed those questions in hopes that perhaps she would have shown some inkling that your desire to have your friendship become something more was…reciprocated," he confessed. There was a somber look on his face as he continued on, "I truly am sorry for not bringing forth a more desirable outcome."

Loki stewed in his seat. He'd never known his brother to express even the most minute trace of allegiance to him in their youth. "All the others," he said accusingly. "When we were in Asgard, you consistently stole them away, why am I to believe that this time was different?"

"Brother, I know you may not believe me now, but please hear me when I tell you this. Those actions were not done out of greed. They were a test of loyalty. Theirs. To you. And each and every one failed," Thor explained somberly.

Just before he could let out a barb that in your case, the only failure was his own, the sounds of junior SHIELD agents' voices floated into the common area. "Look Sierra I get it, okay? We can all have different tastes and like different people, but we can also be wrong about some things. Like honestly after everything we've seen both of them do with our own damn peepers, how can you not be Team Thor?"

"I don't have to explain my choice in men to you, Ellie," the second agent spoke. "Besides you've always known that I like brunettes and I prefer the color gree--Ohh hey, you two!" The area filled with the grating sound of their heeled boots squeaking on the floor as their steps halted upon seeing the Asgardian brothers still seated on the couch.

"Ladies," Thor addressed them with a wide grin and a wave. Both women scampered off in the opposite direction, audibly flustered before they returned to their conversation.

Loki could pay them no mind, however, for their exchange suddenly gave new meaning to your words from earlier. "I am on the other team," he quoted you. When he looked up at his brother, it seemed the blond had come to the same realization, his face lit up with excitement as he stood to take his leave.

"It seems Lady Y/N has passed my ham-fisted test after all," he said triumphantly, clapping a hand down on his brother's shoulder. "Your lady."

Manners and decorum were the furthest thing from the god of mischief's mind as he stood abruptly, shrugging off his brother's hand. "I have somewhere to be," he mumbled, his mind racing with endless scenarios of how he would go about seducing you. Of where and when and how it would commence. If he should shower you with gifts, or perhaps whisk you away to one of Midgard's more picturesque destinations to create a breathtaking backdrop to his confession.

To the consummation of your affections for one another.

But then images of your features when you both brushed off Thor's prodding questions flashed through his mind, particularly the way you winced and squinted your eyes when he'd told his brother to not be absurd. And he knew that the only right scenario would be no tricks, no illusions. To come to you here and now.

He'd waited long enough. You both had.

A/N: Merry Christmas, everybody! This is yet another one of those ideas I had where I kept on shaking my brain hoping for some loose change in the form of ideas on how to get to my next story point, before ultimately realizing that this needed to be a 2-parter. Though who knows when part 2 will be posted because as my Discord status says, I am forever ✨drowning in a sea of WIPs✨ But just know that I'm fully intending for part 2 to be mostly some smuttery between these two 🤭

This might be my last story for 2024, but let's see where the final week of the year takes me. Anyways, I hope y'all have an amazing holiday with your families, I'm going back to working on 'the gallery™️'

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th�� @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814

[shnowyfox]

Jollyformers AU (

so basically i turned the holiday themed au. i haven't had the time to flesh it out obviously. TFONE megop regardless of this au is Last Christmas by Wham!

lore! so instead of cogs they have sleigh bells! usually worn via a collar though harnesses are worn as well to hold more bells that are decorative only. Idk what im doing with transformation yet but i think either it's completely replaced by the bell's allowing flight, or, transformation into creatures to pull the sleigh (basically everyone has a beast alt, deer and ungulates being the most common) Optimus obviously being a reindeer, megatron (krampus) is a goat to fit with his krampus thing, b-127 (glee-127, Badassaclaus) is supposed to be elf like with his g1 style horns supposed to look like elf ears too but they can be seen as budding antlers as well, and elita I haven't drawn yet but she's either a reindeer too or gazelle. (also considering giraffe with that neck dayum girl)

"Prime" has been replaced with "Claus"

hats are just for jolly good fun. like this whole au. and a bit of religious healing. anything goes rlly.

and now a snippet of a rewrite I never was able to finish up. Some of this HAS been retconned. i'm still working at it. mainly the occupation and the backstory stuff. (Context: Bartholomeus is another name for Krampus i dont remember where or when but that's what Megatronus has been substituted with.)

Deer Trax: (chuckles) Okay, fellas! Thanks for the jolly start. You want to give me another one?

Sentry 1: You’re naughty!

Deer Trax: I’ll take that as a no.

Elf-16: (grunts) Hey! Watch where you’re going!

Sentry 1: Oh… What did you say, no-bell?

Elf-16: Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean you. I was referring to the elf who was behind you.

Sentry 2: What? Where’d he go?

Elf-16: The joyous red and blue elf? Has a big grin, merry cheer, gives off a yankee candle scent?

Sentry 1: Where is he?

Elf-16: He went that way.

Sentry 1: When I get my hands on that elf…

Elf-16: All right, all clear.

Deer Trax: Okay, D-16, I may be a little vanilla, but “Yankee ”? That is too far.

Elf-16: Let me guess. Chased out of the cookie jar?

Deer Trax: (laughs) Yeah. I had to jump out of a sleigh this time. Almost got an ouchie (laughs) It was wild.

Elf-16: And digging through fortune cookies is worth getting an ouchie?

Deer Trax: Yes, it is.

Elf-16: I need a new best friend.

Deer Trax: If there are clues in our recorded history that can help locate the North Star, they’re in the cookie jar.

Elf-16: Sentinelf Claus, the Sentinelf Claus, is up in the blizzard right now, risking his merriment for us in search of the Star.

Deer Trax: That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m trying to help him.

Elf-16: Yeah, okay. (laughs)

Deer Trax: The sooner cookies bake again, the sooner we won’t have to make toys ourselves. Don’t you want to choose your own path, do whatever you want?

Elf-16: We’re toy makers. We make toys, that’s all.

Deer Trax: No, there has got to be something more I can do. I can feel it. (Dentistry?)

Elf-16: Oh, yeah? Like the time you had a “feeling” you could fly without a bell?

Deer Trax: You said you were never gonna mention that again.

Elf-16: Took me three days to dig you out of the snow. Your feelings get you in trouble.

Deer Trax: Yeah, yeah.

Elf-16: Just trust in Sentinelf Claus.

Deer Trax: I do trust in him. Hey, if we did have bells…

Elf-16: I’d fly hooves first into your chest

Deer Trax: I don’t like how fast you answered that. But listen, if you did kick me, I couldn’t give you this awesome Bartholomeus Claus thing I have here. It’s cool. I’ll give it to someone else.

Elf-16: What Bartholomoeus Claus thing?

Deer Trax: Ah, it’s nothing. Just a, you know, mint-condition Bartholomeus Claus sweater, first edition.

Elf-16: (gasps) What?

Deer Trax: If you don’t want it, I can just throw it away.

Elf-16: Throw it away? Don’t… That’s not funny. Let me see.

Deer Trax: Wait. Don’t grab. You’re gonna rip it.

Elf-16: You know, Sentinelf says Bartholomeus was the…

Deer Trax: The kindest Claus to ever live. I know, buddy. Looks good on you.

[lostbookmark]

🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex,  Toxic Past Relationship, Stealing Prescription Drugs, Selling Drugs,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

A/N: I'll probably skip updating next week, but I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a happy New Years! (If you celebrate) If not, I hope you have an amazing day, and I'll see you all in two weeks!

“Strawberry shortcake,” Mrs. Lee tells you as you bag her purchases in her reusable floral print tote. “That's why I need so many strawberries. My son just loves my strawberry shortcake. Do you remember Hyun, Y/N? I think you went to school together.”

“Umm, yeah, I remember him,” you confirm as you slide her the bag of red morsels, but she seems to ignore the gesture. “He was always really nice.” He wasn't. He was a dick but you couldn't say that to her.

“He's single, now and I heard through the grapevine that you are too. I always thought he had a little crush on you,” she informs you, and you sigh internally. “I can give you his number, but he has to be home by eight o'clock. He could use a good girl like you to keep him on track.”

“On track? He has a curfew?” You ask warily, nudging her strawberries closer to her with the tip of your finger, but she still chooses to ignore them. “At our age?”

“Well he's on parole…” she starts with a small shrug of her shoulders as if that wasn't a big deal. 

“I'm sorry….what? You realize I'm a teacher, right? I can't date criminals,” you tell her and then quickly shut your mouth at the hard glare she sends you. It made you even take a step back away from the white plastic table between the two of you, afraid that she might jump over the barrier at you. Her glare was murderous.

“He's not a criminal, Y/N! He just made an honest mistake. I didn't think you would be so judgemental, but knowing your mother, I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You are just as stuck up as she is. ” Mrs. Lee snatches her fruit from the table and stomps away. 

“Holy cow,” Tae says with a stunned expression, watching as the mad woman hurries off to her next destination. “You really made her mad.”

“I'm taking a break,” you tell him, and he nods his head in response. 

Walking around the table, you round the corner to go behind the tent. You see Hobi and Yoongi standing over some light colored wooden crates filled with vegetables as they hold clipboards in their hands. You approach them and throw your hands in the air. 

“This is the last time I'm coming here,” you announce dramatically. “Never again. Nothing good ever happens when I come here. Somehow, I always end up being embarrassed in front of the whole town.”

“This is only your second time coming here,” Yoongi says, not looking away from his paperwork.

“What happened?” Hobi asks, completely turning to you giving into your antics like the good friend he is.

“Why is Hyun on parole?” You answer with your own question. "What could he have possibly done here?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Hobi said knowingly, placing his hands on his hips. “He got caught stealing from the pharmacy when he worked there as a technician.”

“He tried selling to some high school kid who ratted him out to the police,” Yoongi adds, finally glancing at you with an amused expression. “Arrested him right here in the middle of town. I unfortunately missed it, but I heard it was funny. Supposedly, he was crying for his mom the whole time.”

“Well, his mother just compared me to my mother, and then proceeded to call me stuck up. Can you believe that? I'm nothing like that woman,” you complain. “Just because I didn't want to go out with her little criminal who had to be home by his curfew.” You watch as the two men share a look and break down laughing. “Not funny.”

“A music teacher and a drug dealer,” Yoongi comments, looking impressed. “You are really racking them up, aren't you?” 

“What music teacher?” Hobi asked, looking between you and Yoongi. “Why won't you go out with him? Why didn't I know about this?”

“Because I hate men right now, and I don’t want you to encourage me to go out, ” you tell him. “Also, the last thing I want to do is date a coworker. If it were to go bad, I would still have to see him almost every day.”

“Well, darlin, I hate to break it to you, but your options are pretty limited if you truly are staying in our little town,” Yoongi says. “You probably can't afford to be too picky at this point. Soon, the only men available to you will be at the senior center. I hope you like mashed peas.” 

“Well, what about you?” You ask him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You were about to lose your patience with this conversation. “I certainly haven't seen anyone at your place. What's your excuse?”

It's true. In the one short week that you have been in your new home, you have picked up on Yoongi's habits pretty easily. His routine was the same every day, never changing, always predictable. His garage door rattles loudly, always waking you up at 4:30 in the morning with his headlights shining into your room not long after. He also doesn't seem to come home until well after sunset. By then, you have settled in front of your tv with your dinner when you see him pull into his garage through your living room window. The only visitors that you have seen over there so far were your mutual friends that come and go whenever they please. 

However, you have yet to see a woman show up or come home with him, nor has anyone mentioned Yoongi seeing someone. Your comment makes him smirk at you as he places his hands on his hips. Clearly, he is amused. The smug look on his face makes you rethink everything. Maybe you were wrong, and he does have somebody. The traitorous butterflies in your stomach fall a little bit at the thought. 

“Keeping tabs on me?” he asks, raising his eyebrow at you. The open mouth smirk he gives you makes your most intimate part clench. She's a traitor, too. 

“You wish,” you roll your eyes at him, trying to cover up your embarrassment and arousal. “Your loud ass garage always announces your presence. Why do you have to leave at 4:30 every freaking morning?”  Yoongi opens his mouth to probably spit some nonsense at you, but you don't let him. “It doesn't matter. I'm going home to wallow in my misery since the two of you made me feel bad.”

“Don't go,” Hobi says, as Yoongi waves goodbye to you. 

“Men!” You exclaim and turn on your heel. You think you need to find new friends.  

Kneeling in the green grass of your backyard with your earbuds in your ears, you needed to keep yourself occupied.  After storing out of the farmers market, you decided to go home and busy yourself trying out a craft before school on Monday to see just how messy it was. Oobleck, the fun little cornstarch and water concoction was quite fascinating. You can understand why kids love this shit so much. You had several large bowls ready to go so you could mix different colors and dispense them into 18 small containers. One for each child.  You wanted your kiddos to get outside and play before the upcoming unpredictable fall weather rolled in.  The weather would soon turn cooler, rainier forcing them to be inside more, and you didn't want to rist this craft in the classroom.  You carefully measure the cornstarch and dump it into the first bowl. As you grab your pitcher of water, a shadow looms over you, scaring the hell out of you.  You whip around, making your earbuds fall out of your ears and consequently dumping water all over yourself with your sudden movement. 

“AHH, that's cold,” you squeal, jumping up off the ground and glaring at the man that surprised you. 

“I didn't mean to scare you,” Yoongi said, holding his hands up in surrender. He eyed the wetness of your clothes that were now clinging onto your body. You think you saw him quickly wet his lips before averting his eyes quickly. 

“What do you want?” You asked, and immediately you cringe at the tone of your voice. You look at him regretfully, softening your tone before bending down and picking up your fallen earbuds.  “Did you need something?”

“Hobi and I thought you were joking about leaving, but when we went to the front, you were already gone. He was really worried when we couldn't find you. I was forced to do three laps around the damn place to look for you,” he explains and holds out a decent sized brown paper bag for you to take.“I brought you some apples that we had left over. I shouldn't have teased you like that.”

“No, it's okay. Thank you,” you tell him, taking the bag of apples from him carefully. It was a lot heavier than it looked. You put it down by your feet and kneel back down to your project. “I need to stop being sensitive when it comes to the topic of dating. I'll have to move on eventually or adopt eight cats and live alone for the rest of my life.”

“You're too young to think like that,” he tells you as he towers over your kneeling form as he moves closer, and you try to avoid looking up at him. You could only imagine how that would look. 

“Yeah, but the eight cats sound like the better option. I can name them all after sweet snacks. Cupcake, sprinkles, marmalade, he would be orange, …” you say, drifting off with a shrug as you grab your second water pitcher that was thankfully full.

“What are you doing?” He asks, coming to squat down next to you and effectively changing the subject. His swift movement let you catch the scent of his cologne that filled the air around you. Of course, he smelled good.

“Oobleck,” you answer, shaking your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts. “For the kids at school. It will be great for their fine motor skills, straightening their hand muscles, and dexterity. That was a really boring answer, wasn't it?” 

“Joon says you're a great teacher,” Yoongi says, and it makes you smile. 

“I should hope so,” you comment. “If I wasn't, he probably shouldn't have hired me.”

“Need help?” He asks, looking at the empty bowls. 

“You don't have anything better to do?” You ask, looking at him skeptically. “It’s Saturday. No hot date tonight at the senior center to get ready for?” 

“Very funny. I'm here, aren't I?” He answers and pulls a couple of bowls close to him. 

“Did you just call me your hot date?” You question, teasing him, and you swear you see his face turn a light shade of pink. He must have been out in the sun for too long.  

“Shut up. Now you are the one who is wishing,” he says, watching you carefully measure your ingredients.  “2 to 1 ratio?” 

“Yup,” you answer as you mix the dry and wet ingredients together. “That's a lot of apples to just give me. I can pay you for them.”

“Well, we felt really bad,” he says with a shrug and a shake of his head. Dropping down, he finally sits down next to you. His knee brushes your outer thigh, and it makes your heart pick up just a little.  “Hobi said that you could probably bake up some stuff with them. From what I hear, you are a good baker. The guys won't shut up about it.”

“Well, maybe now that we are friends….you might find out,” you tell him, focusing on dropping some food coloring in your concoction. The red swirls around and blends together with the white of the cornstarch effectively, turning it pink as you stir it with a plastic spoon. 

“Hopefully,” he said softly. 

You look at him out of the corner of your eye and watch him diligently work. It's a nice, comfortable silence that falls between the two of you. You watch as he bites his lower lip in concentration, and it does something to you again. Much like that night, he was playing darts at that dark bar all those years ago. You're not sure what it is, but it certainly makes you feel warm all over. 

Damn it.

Apple pie, it was good, but you didn't want to deal with having to make the crust from scratch. Apple pie bars, that one was intriguing, but you didn't have pecans, and you didn't want to go to the store.  Apple crisp, one of your favorites, but once again, you didn't have any oats. You think you really need to stock your cupboards with food as your finger scrolls through all the apple desserts you can find on Google. Apple cider donut pound cake, now that sounded like too much work. You sigh. You had to use the apples that Yoongi brought you. You personally don't care for apples on their own, preferring them, then baked with a pound of sugar on them. Needing to make them as unhealthy as possible before you could eat them 

Making your way to your kitchen, you open your cupboards and grab the ingredients to your famous bread that you had often made in college. The same bread you never baked for Yoongi. The same bread that your friends munched away at giving you thank yous and hugs in front of said man. You feel like a complete bitch when you think back on the memories.  You purposely left him out. You hate people like that, and you hate yourself for being that person at one time. You could blame your young age at the time, but you knew what you were doing. You thought he hated you, and you wanted him to feel bad.  

It was your grandmother's recipe that you have memorized by heart, but unfortunately, it's been years since you have made it. Changkyun never liked your bread, your cakes, or any food that you had cooked for him. He would often make you order takeout after you spent time and energy cooking for him. He was able to suck the joy out of something that you loved so much that you just gave up on baking.  You had given up on a lot of things. You had given up on yourself and lost who you were.

One thing that made you nervous was that you never added anything to the recipe before. You had always stuck to her white bread. It was simple and easy, always a hit. However, you don't see why you can't cook some apples down, puree them, and throw them into the dough mixture. Will it work? You have no idea, but it won't hurt to try. Grabbing your peeler, you’re ready to go to work.

The red apples were peeled, cut into perfect slices, and currently simmering away on your stove in a large pot. The house was filled with the scent of apples and the little bit of cinnamon that you added for flavor. It smelled divine. It smelled homey. Your kitchen door suddenly opens, and Jimin pokes his head in with a pretty smile on his perfect face. You wave him in as you turn your attention back to your stove. 

“It smells good in here,” he comments as he fully steps into the house, closing the door behind him. “What are you making?”

“I'm attempting apple bread,” you tell him as he peeks over your shoulder at the stove. “Yoongi dropped off a bunch of apples for me. I want to get them used before they go bad.”

“Dropped them off…..like….. for free?” He asks suspiciously. “You didn't have to pay for them?

“Yeeeah,” you say slowly.

“He never gives anything away for free. He makes all of us pay full retail price when we want something,” Jimin explains. “I wonder why he gave them to you for free?”

“I don’t know,” you say, turning away from his raised eyebrow. You focus on checking the tenderness of the apples with the sharp knife in your hand. Not quite ready. “I think that he's just trying to be nice.”

“I'm sure,” he says with a tick of his head. 

“Do you know something I don't?” You ask with an accusing tone, looking back at him over your shoulder.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “How many are you making?”

“Enough for everyone if it turns out,” you answer. “Anyway, what are you doing here?” 

“I was on my way to Yoongi's. Thought I would stop by to say hi. Also, I heard you were collecting boyfriends left and right. The ladies at the grocery store love talking about you.”  Jimin says with a smirk. “It was all they could talk about in the cereal aisle. Which, by the way, is on sale. Two for five dollars.”

“Are you serious?” you ask. 

“Yeah, I got two boxes of Cheerios,” Jimin says with a devious smirk. You roll your eyes at him and shake your head. “Hobi told all of us about your boyfriends. I personally one hundred percent agree with you, by the way. You don’t need to date right now, but that doesn't mean you can't sleep around and have your own fun.” He tells you. “You know just…keep it safe.” 

“Goodbye Jimin,” you say, walking over and opening the kitchen door for him. 

“Fine, fine,” he says, walking out of the house after taking your not so subtle hint for him to leave. You see Yoongi walk out of his house with a bag of garbage clutched in his hand. Jimin makes his way across the driveway and up Yoongi's steps. When he reaches the landing, he turns to look at you with a shit eating grin. “You can always get a Tinder account. I'll take the pictures, wear a low-cut top and a push-up bra. Boob pictures will get more right swipes.”

Yoongi looks between the two of you before you raise your middle finger in goodbye. Jimins laughter is the last thing you hear before you shut and lock your door. Going back to your stove, you check the simmering apples once more as you stab them harshly with the same knife as before. The sharp point pierced the fruit easily. They were ready to mash. Oh boy, mash them you did. Maybe a little too hard, leaving sticky apple splatter everywhere. You will regret it later when you have to clean the residue, but right now, it feels nice to get some aggression out. You felt a small sense of satisfaction as you watched them get flattened, exploding everywhere. It was almost therapeutic. You'll have to do this more often. 

After an hour in the oven, the warm bread was perfect. It was soft and chewy on the inside with a slight crispy crust around the golden edges. You are surprised that it actually turned out. You thought for sure that the puree was going to make the dough too wet, but it was perfectly sweet with a hint of cinnamon. Pleasantly, surprised and proud of yourself, you wrapped seven loaves of bread in clear plastic wrap for your friends. Biting your lip, your eyes sneak a peek over at Yoongi's house and see that Jimin's car is gone from the driveway. Grabbing one loaf of bread, you leave your house and head over to Yoongi's to deliver the freshly baked goodness. 

You look out past your backyard to the fields on your short trek over to his house. The sunset was beautiful this time of the year as summer was drawing to an end, making way for the fall season. The trees were slowly starting to change colors, indicating that the cooler season was indeed just around the corner. Some trees are even starting to lose their leaves when the breeze hits the branches just right. Causing them to flutter slowly to the ground. Ascending his stairs, you gave a quick knock to his screen door. You slowly rock back and forth on your feet as you wait for him. It didn't take long before he opened the door with a look of surprise.

“Hi,” he said in his signature gravelly voice. 

“Hi,” you say back with a slight smile. “I used the apples that you gave me. I made this bread for everyone.” You reach out and hand him the baked bread. He takes it from you and examines it with a questionable stare.  “I didn't poison it.”

“What?” he asks, and you feel stupid that you made that joke. “No..I….I'm surprised that you actually made me one, I guess.” 

“Well, I did. I told you I would,” you say, and you glance back at sunset, trying to avoid the awkwardness of the conversation. The beautiful colors are not helping you at all.  “I guess I should go. I have a sticky mess to clean up. Have a good night, Yoongi.”

“Thanks, you too,” he says. You make your way back across the drive, but his voice stops you when you reach the middle. “You shouldn't use Tinder.”

“What?” You laugh as you turn back to look at him. 

“It's dangerous,” he says with a nod. “You shouldn't use it. You never know who is really on the other end of a profile.” 

“Okay, yeah,” you say, still amused. “I will be sure to keep that in mind. Goodnight.” 

This time, he doesn't say anything back. You smile to yourself as you enter back into your house. This new friendship feels nice. It doesn't feel forced like you thought it would. Once you get past the awkwardness, you’re sure it will feel completely normal. It will almost feel like you have been friends with him all along. Like you can forget the past. For the first time since your truce, you are ready to accept that. 

Tagged Readers:

@mar-lo-pap, @bontensbabygirl , @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld , @wobblewobble822

[snwusberry]

pairing: dad!wooyoung x mom!black reader

warning(s): eating

genre: fluff

wc: 1294

on my "wooyoung girl dad" agenda

reader pov

man this girl can talk. almost as much as her father, and put them in the kitchen together? absolute chaos, but i love every single second of it.

the kitchen is a mess with mixing bowls littering the counters, used measuring cups scattered everywhere, and four everywhere but in a bowl. the christmas eve chaos is in full swing.

usually we'd buy ready made cookie dough but this time, self proclaimed master chef jung wooyoung, and his sous chef j.j decided we'd nara smith the cookies today. i said master chef, not pastry chef, by the way.

"okay jiah, its your turn to mix the dry ingredients, but do it gently so the flour doesnt get everywhere." i say, handing the little girl the whisk.

she grabs it with both hands and looks at me with all the seriousness she can muster.

"dont worry mommy, i'm a professional baker." she tells me with determination.

see what her father is feeding her?

"i see so." i agree and she smiles widely, before she starts whisking.

"my baby, you've got a littke flour on your nose." wooyoung says from across the counter where he's rolling out dough with far too much flair and jiah gasps, dropping the whisk and patting her face.

"where?"

"here." wooyoung answers, pointing at his own face, unable to contain his laughter. "you look like a little snowman."

with that she grabs a handful of flour and throws it in his direction. i guess she didnt like that.

"hey i was joking. no need to attack your own father."

"at this point we won't have enough cookies for santa." i comment, looking at all the incorrect uses of flour happening. taking a bite of one of the cookies that were put on the cooling rack.

"yeah because you're eating them all." wooyoung comments and i stick my tongue out at him, and jiah must've found that really funny because she let's out her cute little laugh.

"you try resisting all these cookies while carrying another one of your big headed babies." i snap back and he raises his hands.

"we're going to make the best cookies ever! santa's gonna love them." jiah exclaims after stuffing a handful of dough in her mouth. when she got to wooyoung, is a mystery to me but she managed to snatch some cookie dough for herself. hopefully she doesn't have a stomach bug tomorrow, or she'll be really upset.

"obviously. with us in charge, he's going to think they're gourmet." wooyoung chimes in.

he tosses even more flour on the counter before cutting out christmas tree shapes that were bought specifically for the occasion. you can definitely say thing one and thing two were more than excited for christmas this year.

"daddy, you don't even know what gourmet means!"

i snort, trying mot to laugh amd loom to wooyoung who's mouth hangs open in fake offense. self proclaimed master chef, remember?

"excuse me young lady, i happen to know exactly what gourmet means. it means fancy, just like my cooking, thank you very much."

i roll my eyes, placing the already cut dough on the baking sheet. "how about we focus on getting these in the oven before you two destroy my kitchen."

"she started it." wooyoung says, pointing at jiah who dramatically gasps.

"no, you did. you started it when you said i look like a snowman."

i shake my head at the two, fighting the smile that still manages to make it on my face.

"a cute snowman, my baby." he says, trying ti save face and it works because jiah smiles widely at him.

"the cutest?"

"yes, the cutest."

"aren't you guys cute." i comment after witnessing the cute interaction.

i watch as wooyoung puts the tray in the oven before he starts preparing the wet ingredients for the new batch while j.j sneaks me two more cookies.

"for the baby." she whispers a lottke too loudly and i catch wooyoung looking at us.

if its anyone who's more excited for the baby on the way, it's jiah. the moment we told her she'd be an older sister, she's been nothing short of excited. when wooyoung explained that i needed rest and "to be taken care of" during this time she'd to things like what she did just now.

"not enough for santa, remember?" wooyoung said sarcastically but i know he doesnt really care.

"he'll be fine if he gets just two, won't he princess?" i respond and jiah nods rapidly with her mouth full. well there goes another one.

"mommy, do you think he'd like sprinkles?" she asks once she gets a look at the dough wooyoung is mixing.

"i think he'll like anything."

she hums thoughtfully and picks up the jar of sprinkles before dumping some on the dough for wooyoung to fold in.

"i think he'll like the sprinkles. they're prettier."

"sprinkles are the best." wooyoung comments, grabbing some for himself amd tossing them into his mouth.

"daddy, those are for santa!" jiah yells.

"relax, theres plenty left." he says, grinning.

"if you eat the decorations, you'll end up on the naughty list." i chime in, in jiah's defense as if i didn't just tear up a few cookies just now.

"wouldn't be the first time." he quips, throwing a wink at me.

"the dough wooyoung." i remind him and he smirks.

the three of us continue working together to finish the cookies, with the occasional banter and sassy comments from j.j shot towards her father. by the time the last batch is in the oven, we're all tired and i lean against the counter, surveying the mess.

“you know. we could’ve just bought cookies at the store. santa wouldn’t know the difference.”

jiah's jaw drops, and she stares at me like i've just said the most blasphemous thing in the world.

“mommy! you can’t buy cookies for santa! that's cheating!”

as if ready made dough is any better, but okay.

“yeah, mommy. what kind of example are you setting?” wooyoung chimes in, grinning.

i roll my eyes, but i'm smiling. “alright, alright. homemade cookies it is.”

she takes another cookie and takes a bite and immediately lets out a happy hum.

“santa is definitely gonna love these!” she exclaims and wooyoung takes a bite from the cookie in her hand, this being the first time he gets a taste.

“not bad, kiddo. we make a pretty good team.” she grins, her mouth full of cookie crumbs.

“yeah! we’re the best cookie makers ever!”

i can’t help but laugh as i watch the two of them, so alike in their playful, talkative ways. the kitchen is a mess, but my heart feels so full.

“alright.” i say, grabbing a plate for santa's cookies. “let's leave these out with some milk, and then it’s off to bed. santa won’t come if you’re still awake.”

“okay, mommy!” she says, helping me arrange the cookies on the plate.

wooyoung picks her up and swings her around, making her giggle.

“let's get you to bed, hmm?" she nods.

after tucking her in, and cleaning up, wooyoung and i put the cookies back in the cookie jar and he warms up some milk for me to drink before bed.

we sit down together in the living room when wooyoung puts a hand on ny growing belly and let's out a content sigh.

"you're in for a treat my angel." he says softly and i smile at him. "your sister gets nore and more impatient to meet you and we're anticipating your arrival too. mommy and daddy love you."

he presses a kiss on my belly and sits up straight again.

"and i love you, baby." he says to me, leaning in to kiss my lips.

"i love you too."

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 60 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 59 | lesson 60.2

the end of 5 years...so much time and some money spent on this game and i'm scared about how it's gonna end. ik for a fact we won't get proper closure and there's gonna be a fuck ton of loose ends that we never get answers to, but i've come to accept it bc there's nothing else we can do

onto lesson 60!

one part in and i'm already confused. why are we throwing curveballs in the last lesson of the game 😭 tf is a super moon and what does it have to do with mc

unless this has to do with sol and mc going back in time i'm not seeing the point. and even then is there really a point ??? we haven't touched on time travel AT ALL in season 3, not in any meaningful ways, and if this is how they're tying it in...that's an interesting choice

...this feels extremely low stakes

like yes this is a big deal and yes it could be disastrous, but the fact that we know it'll be resolved in less than one lesson just makes it feel forced and rushed

mc's power staging ? power gauging ? power grading ? whatever the term is, has always been inconsistent to the point that now they're basically god. like why should a human singlehandedly be able to stop the moon from colliding into the devildom

granted, they'll probably have help from the brothers through their pacts and diavolo & barbatos bc duh, but like...couldn't the brothers just use their powers on their own? idk it feels like a shoe horn

and i'm not surprised that it has to do with time travel. they had to talk it about eventually

with the way this is going i'm probably gonna be complaining a lot so fair warning 😭 i wish i could be more happy and enthusiastic but FUCK

thirteen crumbs. i'll take what i can get. i'm gonna miss her 💔💔💔💔💔

the fact that they had to use a scroll bar bc you could choose between all 7 of them 😭

obviously chose my fave. my man. the loml

and obviously the spell didn't work on the first attempt

WHAT

so he's on his deathbed damn near and we're supposed to just be fine with it and go to class like nothing is wrong ???

also the devs are evil for making us choose our favorite and having them get hurt to protect us 💀 why would they play in my face like that

my love :((((((( it's bittersweet to see her this much in this lesson when we barely see thirteen at all in the main story or the event stories. feels like a "here, damn" from the devs

oh so now we can say "i love you" out in the open 😑 yes i'm bitter.

this is vile 😭 not the brothers didn't even know. they got slapped in the face just like we did

.............

every bit of praise i had for the game is void. why would they do this. WHY would they do this. it's like we're back at the beginning of the game all over again

ik it's not "set in stone" or "guaranteed", but it's basically guaranteed. i know it doesn't set back his growth entirely but it feels like it. especially since we barely saw human simeon when he wasn't masking as an angel in og season 4, and he was depressed and sick for the entirety of nb season 3

like i can't even put into words how mad i am. i can't even put into words why i'm so mad. i'm just. sigh

THIS is how they end the game ??? i'm sick. actually. like i have no words

the lucifer fanservice is unsurprising but i didn't expect it to be THIS serious. like what. WHAT.

well. that's the game ig. lesson 60 was...something

[lullabyes22-blog]

First of all, I just wanted to say how much I love your Arcane fics. I’ve been following FnF since I stumbled across it at 10 chapters long, and it’s been a wild ride since! Like a lot of people I’ve been all over the place with my feelings regarding season 2, but as far as I’m concerned FnF is my season 2 (and 3, 4, etc.) lol. You’re a gift to this fandom. Thank you for sharing your brilliant mind and imagination with us readers ❤️

You’ve answered some what-if asks and shared other Arcane thoughts on this blog before, so I have two questions for your consideration, but no pressure to answer either of them!

1. As a fellow writer, I’m in awe of the scale of FnF and the amount of planning/outlining that must be involved—HOLY SHIT! Are there any elements of s2 that have inspired you as you continue to write FnF? Have you considered adapting any s2 elements into later chapters (beyond what you’ve already predicted), or have you held fast to a specific Vision throughout the duration of this writing project?

2. Not sure if you’ve been asked this in the past, but what the hell would a living Silco’s reaction be to Vander’s hellish resuscitation as Warwick, assuming he isn’t immediately mauled in a confrontation?? Is Singed (assuming he’s the culprit) definitely fired??? This feels like such a MESSY terrible horrible no-good very bad situation for everyone involved lmao, and I would love to know your thoughts.

Aaaaah thank you so much! I'm super happy you're enjoying the story! I've been having a lot of fun with it, and I'm glad so many other folks are having fun with it as well <333

Also deeply honored you'd consider FnF in any way adjacent to canon material; that means so much T_T Especially since my own feelings on s2 are pretty mixed, and I'm not really sure what I would even do with those ideas, except maybe throw them out as a one-shot sometime down the road.

1. In terms of the s2 inspiration, I will say I was not the biggest fan of the plot's coherence/cohesion as a whole (too much stuff going on in too little time, too many threads left dangling etc). However, I was very gratified by the thematic journeys of the characters in S2, as in FnF they're actually following a similar trajectory (except for Silco who is, well, dead), and a lot of the same conflicts and themes are coming up. There was a happy sense of vindication that came from that, like, "Oh, so this was actually important, and not just me making a fanficcy mountain out of a molehill."

I will say though, that FnF has its own pretty airtight-ish plot, with many aspects already sketched out in advance, so I'm not going to go re-plotting things to match s2's direction unless and until it becomes necessary. In some ways, tbh, there's a sense of gleeful overlap, as a lot of the plot beats do mirror one another. (The Black Rose make an appearance by Act VII, there's a greater emphasis on magic and high fantasy going forward, Jinx is in the grip of an identity/existential crisis and Vi is stuck at a crossroads, Jayce has become disillusioned and split with Mel, Viktor has retreated underground and will be withdrawing deeper into his work, Ekko will be the one to snap Jinx out of a critical juncture and save Zaun in the long term, Sevika will take a greater leadership role etc...) All of the parallels if not the outright similarities were pretty satisfying.

As for how that's manifesting, a lot of the major developments and character arcs going forward are largely set in stone, but I do have a few key S2 events/details I've been mulling over in the background that I can see myself weaving into the plot at some point. But the rest is probably best kept as a surprise :>

2. As for the hellish resuscitation, well, I'd be lying if I said I haven't been thinking about that one a lot hehehe...

But long story short:

Singed is 100% fired because there is NO WAY Silco would sanction such a thing - and if it occured in the FnF universe, then Singed was absolutely doing it behind Silco's back and will now face the full consequences.

 As for Warwick himself - he'd 100% retreat to Silco and Vander's little Brokeback bunk in the mines. And Silco would 100% don his old mining duds and dustry greatcoat and go looking for him, because he needs to be SURE it's not just a rumor, and also because he does, subconsciously, desperately want it to be his Vander. And Vander, who has a good measure of the old Vander's memories, and is 100% aware it's not a rumor, because hello: deranged wolfman, will 100% run towards Silco with every intention of tearing him to pieces.

And that is where the similarities end.

Because Vander is too deeply trapped within Warwick's killer shell, and is therefore incapable of having an emotional reunion with anyone, and because Silco is not an idiot and would never go into a skirmish without a loaded gun and an escape route, the end result would be bloody, messy and tragic.

Worst case scenario: both men would kill each other, and in their final death throes, find boyhood memories resurfacing. They'd die in tears, messily and bloodily entwined, but finally at peace with their own demons - which is how Jinx and Vi, teaming up similar to S2, would find them.

Best case scenario: Silco would find Warwick and be forced to try and capture and contain him. He'd enlist Sevika's help and succeed, but when Jinx finds out, she'd be appalled and retraumatized, and convinced Silco is trying to erase her dead dad and supplant him in every sense. She'd go off the rails and have a complete breakdown, and Vi would be the one she'd run to, because Vi is the only person who understands and cares. The sisters would end up teaming against Silco to try and bust WarVander out, and this would cause an irreparable rift between Silco and Jinx.

Cue mass destruction and an epic family feud.

Sevika, who'd be the only person left in Silco's circle of trust, would have to make the call to have Warwick quietly killed in order to save the city from a war, and then lie to Silco, telling him Vander succumbed to his own madness and perished. This would cause Silco's mental state to completely disintegrate. He'd lose what little sanity he had left, and would descend into a pit of guilt and grief.

 Either way, it's a pretty awful tragedy on both sides, and it would take the entire remaining plot of FnF to resolve the fallout, and for Jinx and Vi to find any kind of peace.

So you can see why I've been mulling a lot, but also left it alone haha.

But who knows?

Maybe the story will change my mind, or I'll be struck by some miraculous idea and figure a way out, though I'm doubtful.

Thanks again for the lovely words and thoughtful questions! They really mean a lot <3

[lotus-soda]

Pt 1.5 Quick interlude about Amenoogozen, Fyodor, Sasaki, and Guide

Anyways I'm going to go ahead and throw this in here as it's important to the Dazai, Oda, adn Kunikida parts of this story

So I already established the connections (I'm not going over them again takes to long) But I believe their antagonists have connections simularly

Okay this is gona sound crazy but...

Sasaki ----> Amenogozen

Gide ----> Fyodor

Now I'll start with Sasaki and Amenogozen as they are a little more connected then the second two.

Take a look at both of those two's motives... they are not their own, Sasaki's is the Azure king's, and Amenogozen is following Fyodor's orders with some of Fukuchi's motives. They parallel in this way.

Now one of the reason's I'm also addressing this here is if Sasaki and Rokuzo kill each other, then Kunikida and Amenogozen should kill each other. Now even though Kuni is my fave, I believe this would be a perfect ending for him, as in a he takes down amenogozen with his ability and dies happy. Also Kenji, Tanizaki, and Atsushi are in the area, so we could have a very similar scene to Saskai's and Rokuzo's deaths if some random hallway in the airport is intract.

Okay now for Fyodor and Gide... now most people agree that Fyodor will most likely die to Dazai's hands, and this is probably what's going to happen. Now the whole thing about mimic being disgraced and needing a certain person to kill it kind fits. If the attack at the airport goes to shit (Hoping this is what happens) Fyodor may see himself as disgraced and look for an out like guide. Alike with guide Fyodor also needs somebody special to kill him, specifically anybody who has a canceling ability. There's one last bit I wanna put in this little part.

If Fyodor mirrors Gide, and Dazai reflects Oda, who would age 18 Dazai be? And the answer I'm going with is Akutagawa. I mean Aku lost his memory, there's now lights in his eyes! This is like Oda taking off Dazai's bandages to help him see the light. (Obviosly Dazai didn't show aku the light I'm just using an example) I feel like Dazai's arc is actually coming to a close, so if Aku ends up seeing the light we could get cannon ADA!Aku

Anyways just soem thoughts

You know I never really thought about why Rokuzo was never mourned. I meam Asagiri is fantastic at writing trauma... so why would he leave Rokuzo out? Anyways then I proceeded to realize that Oda mirrors Kunikida

And Dazai mirrors Rokuzo

I'm going to cry in a corner and re-read the dark era and DEE now

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

Just a thought I wanna share but, the best thing about Byakuya's backstory for me is how much interpretation one can have. Like, there isn't much know about the Togami Inheritance system, how Byakuya won in specifics, if it was a battle of the body, mind, or some combination. Same goes with Byakuya's parents. There is like NOTHING for those guys. I know in the dubiously canon Danganronpa Togami books, his father is named as Kijo Togami, dunno if it is exclusively in those books where he's named. Not much info is on him though. Like, what does he look like? What is his main personality? How is his relationship with his son, Byakuya? Meanwhile, Byakuya's mother is a mystery too. No name, no physical description, nada. It makes sense for her in specifics though as she was probably just there to make the child before said child got shipped to a IRL battle royale. Though, it's not like that's set in stone. That's interpretable too like if she was a good mother whether it's in an interpretation where she only had her son for a small amount of time or if she was always there or hell, if she kicked the bucket and died in some shady ass well! Other things to factor in too such as the fact that Byakuya could be mixed or biracial or something due to Togami men having to have offspring with fancy women all over the globe. That's one interpretation I like a lot. Just makes sense to me. Like, sure, blond hair could be dyed, but it could also just be that European blood coursing through his veins. Or, whatever one sees. Depending on one's own interpretation, his life could be just relatively shitty with the uphill battle of becoming heir and the stress that comes with to potential abuse even, whether verbal or something else. Byakuya is already an individual with some problems after all with his mindset, general demeaner, and childhood or lack there of cus i REFUSE to consider what we know about his childhood to be a diggity dang childhood! Cus, no! That SOOOOO wasn't one. The limit with the interpretation is simply how much one wants to interpret about him like his secret in chapter 2 which never was revealed. Hell, even his list of likes and dislikes is a little vague or at least one of them that I constantly think back to like, what do you mean you like French, Byakuya?! Like, is it JUST the language? Culture? The food?!?!? Gasp Does he relate to the baguettes? Okay, I'm being a bit silly here but my point is that even his likes and dislikes can be fluid with interpretation. He likes coffee but it's open to what KIND whether it be black coffee or a Frappuccino at Starbucks with excessive amounts of whipped cream (I say this like I've actually seen a Starbucks coffee in person and have walking into an establishment). He dislikes microwaved food. Well, how far does that dislike go? Pure hatred even? Would he refuse to eat a reheated meal that he likes out of spite because it was reheated in a microwave even if he's literally about to starve to death or would he cave and eat the food? Or, does he hate the microwave ITSELF more than the food products designed for it? Then my brain loops back to the important biz! What does he find funny?! How would one hypothetically get him laughing?! Dang! Sometimes I wish there was an ACTUAL concrete answer to this though, who knows. If there was, I might not like the answer though that is delving into what-iffery. Dunno! I just overthink like this! I gotta dissect my muse! Besides, even if some of the interpreting can be annoying, even for me at times, it's not the worst thing ever. Not like he's the only character with this trait. It's just more apparent when you have some characters when you know all their family members or have actual CANON books about their backstory (Kyoko). And there are also other characters in which the vagueness is by design or just characters with vague spots like him cough cough Kokichi cough cough. Suppose it doesn't help that I am way too attached to this freaking loser T-T. Perhaps, there is some beauty to that.

[watery-melon-baller]

im never quite good at dealing with people venting to me because my automatic response is to offer them a solution, and i get frustrated if they continue to vent without taking the solution, especially if it's a simple solution. i am aware that everyone has issues and that things are difficult but sometimes i see my friends and i just get so. envious and annoyed because they can just sit there and whine without even doing anything. which is a cruel thing to think because they do have legitimate issues but every time they're talking im just always thinking in the back of my head just do the fucking thing. Just do it. It doesn't Matter if X and Y are affecting you just fucking do it you have to do it you can't just sit on your ass and not do it. and i don't want to say that to my friends because it is mean and not nice and they have real legitimate issues and i completely understand where they're coming from and why they're struggling but my internal dialogue is a constant manta of "didnt ask didn't care stop being a little bitch and get over yourself and do it" because that's what i have to tell myself to get anything done

[moe-broey]

Idk if I'm gonna be able to articulate this on the fly like first thing in the morning, but. I think my ENTIRE body of work is This: Examining how family ties, bonds or lack thereof, the good and bad AND ugly, seep into every facet of who we are and how we come to interact with others. How sometimes, a family tie (or again, a Lack of one), will sometimes bleed into how you act and treat specific people. Will bleed into how you CONNECT with those people (or, will be the very reason you fail to do so).

HOWEVER. HOWEVER. THERE IS A DELICATE LINE. A BALANCING ACT. You CANNOT just simply attribute fanon flavored ideas of found family to such characters. That's too simple, and sometimes, is a complete disservice to the specific character you're working with. I am once again bringing up Chilchuck. YES, him being a dad Absolutely seeps into how he treats his party. But if you call him the party's dad, you're Insane. Do you know ANYTHING ABOUT THAT MAN???? He would prefer you didn't. But I digress. He strikes a fascinating balance, between having The Qualities and ESPECIALLY expressing his care for his party in a Really Specific divorced (separated.) father of three fashion, but that does Not make him a "dad friend". He's a professional. He's on business. He's going home at the end of the day, and at the end of this adventure he's thinking of setting up a shop. I wanted to keep this more vague and broad but like. The Chilchuck example REALLY DOES perfectly articulate What I'm trying to get at, here. He's the perfect encapsulation of How his family shapes him, how that bleeds into his relationships with others, vs Who he is as a person.

How we were raised, our family ties, whether you adhere to it or you've fallen FAR from the tree -- you still fell from that stupid fucking tree. It's in your blood. Literally. It gave you shape, whether you liked it or not. And sometimes some things just set off weird domino effects, that also affect us irrevocably forever.

WHICH IS. TO SAY. I have no fucking idea what I'm talking about. I'm always trying to figure that out. Found family is/can be real, you're not strictly bound by blood if you don't wanna be. BUT. The bullshit I'm constantly on, is trying to figure out how to balance all that without slotting everyone into reductive roles. I'm gay and I seek to destroy the nuclear family. Not attempt to recreate nuclear family 2.0. You CAN reconstruct What Family Is/Means from the ground up, but you have to accept that things are going to get Weird. Because you're Queer. You are fundamentally incompatible with the status quo and normalcy, the solution is NOT assimilation and palatability, the solution is to just. Get weirder. And be fluent in canon. Okay. I love you

[tuesdayscanons]

Is there another hobbyist or writer whose style or content is one that you enjoy?

《 I've been hesitant to answer this one because I haven't really read a lot of fiction lately, so this question feels like I'm being asked to pick favorite RP partners and that feels kinda mean. I love writing with all of y'all.

Still, I think I ought to give special mention to Dragon because oh boy do I reread their replies a lot...and I mean a lot. It's like comfort food to me. It makes my day (my week, even) whenever I get a new reply from them and I read new replies at least five times while trying to formulate a reply back...and then I reread it a billion times more while I wait for the next reply. There's so many Dragonisms in their writing I absolutely eat up. Their OCs are immaculate and they truly get their canon muses.

I also want to shout out Calvin. We haven't written together in a while, but I went back to reread old threads recently and they were so charming. There's this one reply that's now forever lost to the void because he deleted his old blog and my heart is broken because it was such a cute/sweet reply. I didn't reply to it because it was such a perfect bookending to the thread and now I'm kicking myself for not reblogging it without a reply. Maybe it's still in my drafts somewhere; but I might've deleted it while cleaning out my drafts.

I'll add to this post if I think of more people to shout out. 》

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

.

[littleragondin]

For the ask game: 🏳️‍🌈, 💎, 🧸

Thank you for asking! („• ᴗ •„)

🏳️‍🌈 something you wish wasn’t so common in BLs

I'll go with he shipping characters/obsessive BL enthusiast. Sometimes it feels like we are getting away from it and then one makes a surprise appearance (yes i just watched Marry Go Round and while I ended up mostly ok with her, Emmy took me by surprise) and I'm back to

ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ w h y ? ? ?

Even the mildest examples (I'm thinking like Tomoyo and Sakura (...the wasted potential of not giving us a crumb about them being a couple i swear) from Senpai, danjite koidewa who were very respectful and low key about it) make me roll my eyes and sigh now. It's okay, I think we can find other ways to make "audience relatable" characters if that was the point of them.

(but I also have to agree with everyone I saw mention the sleeping kisses, that can go for good)

💎 show you wish people talked about more:

I will have to say The Miracle of Teddy Bear again yeah. I know it's a 2022 release, that it's on the longer side (17 ep of 1+ hour) and it has a polarized reputation, but I feel like it had so much to say, I was completely taken it by it, I think it had a lot of heart, and while a bit heavier than the soap opera/cheesy cheap aspects might initially suggest, it left me with a lot of hope and I haven't stopped thinking about it since I saw it in April.

🧸 friends to lovers or enemies to lovers?

That one's a no brainer for me, I'm a friends to lovers addict every day of the week. I enjoy a good enemies to lovers, I do. But there is something with a long lasting friendship that wants to turn into something else, the knowing the other, the familiarity and already loving them so much, the fear of losing what you have... yeah I am team friends to lovers all the way.

[la-princessaa]

I call this a weird amount of flowery words but I'm struggling so I wrote it out. usually I keep these things in my journal but whatever. if anyone has any advice that's cool. by fall out boy

I have a question, a worry, that goes so deep and so raw it chokes out my dreams at night, some of my enjoyment unless I shove it hard like a box under the bed. And then it comes back. The fear nauseates me, the need for an answer clawing at my chest. The fear of the answer like a weight around my ankles. I'm so afraid to ask. It hits me in waves sometimes so intense that I want to just blurt it out. To get rid of it. To put it into the world and whatever happens, happens. To get it out of me. To get that box that keeps coming back out from under my bed away from me. To dig into my chest and pull out whatever organ keeps making it tight. To pull out whatever causes me to shake and sit motionless on the shower floor because the weight makes it hard to move. It hurts. It burns at the back of my throat daily, hourly. Bitter bile. It tastes like... It tastes like the worst news you've ever gotten in your life. It tastes like your stomach sinking to your feet because your world exploded. It tastes like fear. Agony. It tastes like obsession that won't be satisfied until it is planted elsewhere or buried. But to do that it needs to be put into the world. 

I'm realizing some things I can't squash down. I've been advised to. I've been told to just keep this in me. To let it rot me from the inside out, although not knowingly. But it's worming its way into every aspect of my life. Devouring me. Melting holes in my bones. It's probably not necessary to ask. Or so I've been told. I'm rotting. I'm dying. 

But I should probably wait.

[shotmrmiller]

tw: mentions of roofies, murder, then smut:)

cbf!simon would absolutely kill for you.

cbf!simon has always been your partner in crime.

even in your youth, back when he was built like a daffodil, he was always by your side. kept you safe from the mean girls at school, always got in trouble for throwing hands at boys who made crass comments at you and the like. then he'd left his butcher job to join the military. "I gotta learn how to keep you safe, love. i'll always come back to ya."

and he had. he returned to you almost four times his size; he left a boy and came back a man. down to your very bones, you knew that he would always keep you safe.

which is why he was the first person you called when the guy next to you at the bar roofied your drink. the beer fizzed irregularly and had an almost milky colour even though it was an ipa.

the idiot had dared to smile at you, an oily, crooked grin with yellow teeth, and lifted his own glass to toast with you.

you bolted out of your seat in seconds, heading straight to the ladies' room, and dialed.

he answered on the second ring.

"please come get me." you hadn't meant to sound as terrified as you felt.

"be there in 5," then hung up.

he lived 15 minutes away from the dingy bar.

true to his word, he was there in 5, texting where you were at.

inside the ladies bathroom.

he let himself in, put his jacket around your quivering shoulders, and with a strong, comforting arm, guided you toward the exit and into his truck. simon remained silent as he sat you in the passenger seat, gently pulling the seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place.

he stood next to you, his hands resting on your jean-clad thighs, waiting patiently for you to explain.

your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you sort out your thoughts. you no longer felt afraid, that much was certain. simon has always been your pillar of strength. there was nothing to fear with him at your side.

so why do your hands continue to tremble? digging deeper, you realize that you're angry. no.

furious.

some imbecile thought he'd take advantage of you. if you'd been any more drunk, you would have been a victim— wound up lifeless in a dirty ditch.

you burned with fury, your blood boiling under your skin. how dare he? how dare he?

simon softly touches your tightly clenched hands, coaxing your fingers to unfurl.

everything pulls hard to port when your eyes land on his disfigured knuckles— scarred by battle. you've never liked what simon did for a living. he just fought and killed people that some higher-up told him were the bad guys.

in war, there is no good or bad side. the field is too soaked in blood for anyone to recognize where the line is if there even was one to begin with.

until now. just this once, you couldn't be more grateful that simon possesses the skills he does.

you make your decision. "there was a guy in there. green hat, ugly brown jacket with yellow, crooked teeth. he drugged my beer, then toasted me so i would drink it."

his hands tighten around yours marginally. "and now i'm here, safe, with you. but he's still in there, with potentially a pocket full of pills, on the lookout for his next victim. how am i supposed to sleep tonight, knowing that if someone goes missing tonight, the blood will be on my hands?"

you cut your eyes to his dark, hardened ones, and the words tumble out of your mouth with surprising ease.

"there's trash in there that needs throwing out, simon."

nothing but a wretched mongrel that needs to be put down.

simon's nod is subtle, but it's there. you exhale a shuddering breath, heart slamming against your ribcage.

he's a gun in your hand, and you've just pulled the trigger.

simon hands you the keys to the truck. "are you sober enough to drive home?" he quietly asks.

hard to keep a buzz when you almost became a victim of—

"yes."

he's opening the glove compartment, taking out his skeleton gloves, and a tac knife that he tucks inside the waistband of his jeans.

"go home. i'll see ya in a bit." his voice is flat, lifeless.

simon closes the door and raps his knuckles on the hood of the truck before heading inside.

and so the elephant marches to war.

-

it's well past midnight when he crawls in through your window. one moment his boots are on the windowsill, the next he's pinning you onto your mattress, hips flush against yours.

his chilly, clean hands lift the hem of your loose shirt, dimpling the soft skin that his fingers dig into— his bare lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"he is no longer a problem."

he grinds his clothed erection against the flimsy fabric of your sleeping shorts.

"you did the right thing by telling me what he did."

simon trails a path of open-mouthed kisses from your ear down to your mouth, licking your bottom lip.

"nothing gets me harder than when my girl looks at me to keep her safe."

your breath hitches when a hand begins to move south, lifting the waistband of your bottoms and sliding his fingers over your slick pussy. "it seems you like it too. does it turn you on, ordering me around like a dog? i bark at your command, pet."

one finger sinks into your wet heat, his groan drowning out your own.

"you like having this much power over me? how easily i bend to your will?" he croons.

there are two fingers in you now, so much thicker than your own, and the way they curl and drag along your nerves has your toes tingling. he takes you to the precipice at frightening speed— the expert hands that kill without remorse are the same ones that are bringing you your pleasure.

he thrusts his fingers into you with an obscene squelch and a thumb circles your slippery clit.

"i'd burn the world to ashes if you asked it of me."

the coil in your stomach is tight, your body tense in anticipation.

"so... would you? would you ask me to bring the world to its very knees?"

the answer sits on the tip of your tongue when you climax around his fingers, walls pulsing rhythmically, arousal dripping from his knuckles.

later will be a good time to reflect on how you don't feel even remotely guilty for what's been done.

for now, you focus on how good simon feels as he slowly sinks into you, splitting you wide open with his heavy cock.

-

simon finds no pills in the guy's pockets. no baggie, no bottle.

nothing.

shame that his little love has declared the guy's life forfeit.

your wish is his command.

[flowersforbucky]

down bad

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.9k

author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”

“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.

“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.

“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.

“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”

“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”

“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.

“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”

“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”

Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.

Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.

“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”

“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.

“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.

Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.

“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.

“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.

“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.

“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.

“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.

“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”

“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”

— — — — —

One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.

What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?

You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–

“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.

You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…

Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.

“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”

“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.

“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”

“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.

There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.

“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.

To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.

“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.

Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.

“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”

If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.

“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.

“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.

“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”

“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.

You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.

Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.

You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.

You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.

The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.

You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.

“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”

“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.

Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.

“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.

“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.

“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”

He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.

“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.

“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”

Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.

He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.

At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”

“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.

“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.

You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.

“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.

He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.

His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.

His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.

If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.

“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”

“I say show me the way.”

He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.

Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.

He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.

The very last door opens without a hitch.

Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.

Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.

You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.

He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.

You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.

He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.

You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.

He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.

You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.

“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.

You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.

You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -

“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”

His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.

He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.

“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.

You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.

You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.

He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.

He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.

God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…

Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.

You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.

His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.

“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.

It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.

When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.

“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”

“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.

He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.

It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.

“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”

You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.

You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”

You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.

Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.

♡♡♡♡♡

i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭

as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!

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