#so next year will be kind of a surprise for me

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 11

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (eventually lololol)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Angst, stupid people, dramaaaaa

A/N: I aint ready for peace yet 😇🫶🏻

Masterpost

NYU 4th Year

The late afternoon sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon as you exited your lecture hall, your bag slung over your shoulder and your mind already racing with thoughts of your looming paper. The quad was buzzing with students heading off to their weekend plans, and you were lost in your thoughts when you spotted Natasha leaning casually against a lamppost, her red hair catching the golden light.

“There she is,” Nat called, waving you over with a grin. “What took you so long? I’ve been standing here for ages.”

“Class ran late,” you said, rolling your eyes as you walked up to her. “Professor decided to drop a surprise reading quiz on us.”

Natasha scoffed, falling into step beside you. “Reading quizzes on a Friday should be illegal. Anyway, there’s a party tonight at Walker’s place. You coming?”

You hesitated, already feeling the weight of your weekend workload. “I don’t know, Nat. I’ve got that big paper due next week, and I’m kind of behind. I was planning to get a head start tonight.”

Natasha groaned, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated plea. “Come on, please? Wanda already bailed on me, and I really want to see this guy who’s going to be there. I can’t get stuck with the boys by myself—they’ll ruin my whole vibe.”

You sighed, torn between responsibility and the infectious energy of your best friend. “Fine,” you said reluctantly. “But I’m starting my introduction before we leave. No arguments.”

“Scout’s honor,” Natasha said, raising three fingers in a mock salute.

You gave her a pointed look. “You weren’t even a Girl Scout.”

She grinned, undeterred. “True, but I can feel it. In another life, I was definitely a spy.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you parted ways. “Yeah, sure, Nat.”

By the time you got back to your dorm, Natasha was already busy texting, her phone lighting up with each rapid-fire message. You could tell by the sly smile on her face that she was talking to her crush. The thing about Natasha was that she always knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. She was a spitfire, sharp-tongued and unapologetically confident, but underneath all that fire, she was a hopeless romantic. Most guys your age weren’t ready for someone like her, but that never stopped her from trying.

You sat at your desk and opened your laptop, determined to at least get your introduction done before the night derailed into party chaos. The words flowed easily, and by the time you finished your intro and even managed to start your first paragraph, you felt a small sense of accomplishment.

Alright you texted Natasha, I’m done for now. Let’s get ready.

Within seconds, your phone buzzed with her reply: Finally!!! Be there in 5.

True to her word, Natasha burst into your room moments later, her arms loaded with a makeup bag and a pair of heels. You both commandeered Wanda’s bed, laying out a mess of possible outfits, debating the merits of each one as you tried to find the perfect look.

You finally settled on a sleek black mini-dress that hugged your figure in all the right places, paired with short heels and of course your signature neckless: your locket. Natasha went for a bold red jumpsuit with a plunging neckline and sky-high heels.

Standing side by side in front of the mirror, Natasha let out a low whistle. “Damn, we’re hot.”

You giggled, adjusting the strap of your dress. “We clean up nice.”

Natasha’s eyes drifted to the delicate gold locket resting against your collarbone, and she smiled. “That locket… you’ve been wearing it forever. I’ve never seen you without it.”

You glanced down, your fingers lightly brushing over the familiar weight of the locket. “Yeah, it’s kind of a family thing, my mom gave it to be before she passed"

Natasha, smiled sadly her curiosity piqued. “You never did tell me what’s inside.”

You held the locket, fidgeting it between your fingers. “On one side, there’s a quote about love that my great-great-great-grandmother supposedly wrote. My grandma told me everyone who’s had this locket would place a photo of the man they loved on the other side—so they’d always be close to their heart."

Natasha’s eyes softened. “Your whole family sounds like a bunch of hopeless romantics.”

You laughed. “Apparently. Guess it runs in the blood.”

Natasha smirked, leaning in. “So… who’s in yours?”

You hesitated, your fingers lingering on the locket before closing it. “No one,” you said, offering a small smile. “I don’t really have anyone to put in there right now.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Mhm, sure. No one at all?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not everyone is as quick to fall head over heels as you, Nat.”

“Hey,” she said, placing a hand over her heart dramatically, “I just know what I want.”

“And what you deserve,” you added with a grin.

Natasha nodded approvingly. “Exactly.”

With that, you both grabbed your bags and made your way out of the dorm, ready to take on the night. Natasha’s phone buzzed again, and she couldn’t hide the excitement on her face as she typed back.

You glanced at her, smiling softly. “Texting your mystery man?”

“Maybe,” she said with a wink. “Tonight’s going to be fun—you’ll see.”

The crisp night air buzzed with the energy of the weekend as you and Natasha made your way down the crowded street, laughter and music spilling out from houses along the way. The distant thump of bass grew louder with every step, and soon you were standing in front of John Walker’s house, its windows glowing and the porch already packed with students.

Natasha looped her arm through yours as you approached the door, her heels clicking against the pavement. “You know,” she said, her voice light but teasing, “I always thought you might have Bucky’s picture in that locket.”

You stumbled slightly, your eyes snapping to hers. “What?”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, don’t act so surprised. You two have been inseparable since kindergarten. Best friends, sure, but there’s always been… something.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she didn’t give you the chance. “I mean, hey, no judgment. I’m just saying I’m a little surprised he’s not in there.”

You were about to respond, to come up with some half-hearted deflection, but before you could, Natasha grinned and yanked you toward the door. “No time for heart-to-hearts now. Let’s find the boys.”

The moment you stepped inside, the heat and noise hit you like a wave. The living room was packed, bodies swaying to the beat of the music as red solo cups were passed around. You caught a glimpse of a makeshift beer pong table in the corner, surrounded by a cheering crowd. The scent of cheap alcohol and sweat mingled in the air, and someone had already spilled something sticky on the floor.

Natasha scanned the room with a practiced eye, her grip still firm on your arm. “There they are,” she said, nodding toward the far side of the room where Steve and Bucky were leaning against a wall, talking. Steve had his usual easy smile, but Bucky’s eyes flicked across the room, as if he was keeping tabs on everything and everyone.

Natasha released your arm and nudged you forward with a sly grin. “Go on. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.” Before you could protest, she disappeared into the crowd, already hunting down her mystery man.

You took a deep breath and weaved your way through the throng of people, your heart picking up speed as you got closer to them. Bucky’s head turned slightly, and when his eyes landed on you, a slow smile spread across his face. He nudged Steve, who looked up and gave you a warm wave.

Here’s a revised version with smoother transitions and more natural dialogue flow:

“Well, well,” Bucky’s voice cut through the noise as you and Natasha finally reached him and Steve. He leaned casually against the wall, a lopsided grin on his face. “Look who decided to show up.”

Steve chuckled, raising his cup in a mock toast. “Didn’t think we’d see you tonight. Thought you had some big paper to write?”

“I did,” you replied, crossing your arms with a smirk. “But Natasha here wouldn’t take no for an answer. Said it was a life-or-death situation.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Natasha, relentless? Shocking.”

“She’s practically a force of nature,” you said, glancing around. “So, drinks?”

Steve drained the last of his beer and set his cup down with a satisfied sigh. “You two go ahead. I’m gonna head over to the keg and see if I can beat my personal record tonight.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Best of luck, Stevie.”

Steve winked as he stepped away. “Now that you’re here, I don’t need it.”

As he disappeared into the crowd, you and Bucky stood there in a comfortable silence for a moment, the bass of the music thumping around you. Then, Bucky gave you one of his signature half-smiles, the kind that always made your heart skip a beat. “Come on,” he said, reaching for your hand and pulling you toward the drink table.

His touch was brief but enough to send a spark up your arm. You followed without protest, a small smile tugging at your lips. When you reached the table, he handed you a drink, his fingers brushing against yours—a fleeting, seemingly innocent moment that left your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you lifted the cup to your lips.

Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. But before you could think of a response, Natasha appeared from behind you, clapping her hands together, cutting through the moment.

“Alright, people,” she announced, her tone playful. “What’s the plan? Beer pong? Dancing? Or do we just stand here and look devastatingly cool?”

Bucky smirked, his eyes still on you. “I think we’ve already nailed the last one.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “How about we find Steve before he gets himself into trouble?”

Bucky raised his cup in agreement. “Solid plan.”

With that, the three of you moved back into the crowd, weaving through the crush of people and the haze of music. Even as the party buzzed around you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Bucky’s lingering gaze—or the way your locket, pressed against your chest, seemed to grow heavier with every step.

"There he is!" Natasha beamed, stopping "Buck you go watch him, me and my girl are gonna dance for a bit!" Before either of you could respond, Natasha was already pulling you away, you turned around glancing over your shoulder briefly to see Bucky's blue eyes smiling at you as he gave you a single wave.

The music thumped loudly in your ears, the bass vibrating through the floor as you swayed with Natasha in the middle of the crowded living room. The alcohol buzzed warmly in your veins, and for a moment, you let yourself forget about everything—about the paper, about the tension that always seemed to linger whenever Bucky was around.

You and Nat were giggling, holding onto each other as you moved to the beat. It was freeing, exhilarating even, until your gaze drifted across the room and landed on him.

Bucky was leaning casually against the wall, his signature smirk firmly in place as he talked to a blonde. She was laughing at something he said, her hand lightly resting on his arm. They were close—too close. Her hair glinted under the dim party lights, and the way she leaned in, hanging on his every word, made your stomach drop.

Your world stopped for a second. The music faded into the background, replaced by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You blinked, trying to shake it off, telling yourself it didn’t matter, but the familiar ache settled in your chest anyway.

You tore your eyes away, grabbing your red solo cup and downing the rest of its contents in one go. The burn of the cheap liquor didn’t help, but it gave you something to focus on. You crushed the cup in your hand and let it drop to the floor, the plastic crumpling beneath your heel as you forced yourself to keep dancing.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath, plastering a fake smile on your face.

Natasha laughed beside you, her movements loose and carefree. She slurred slightly, her words barely audible over the music. “Hey! You… you took your necklace off!”

You frowned, reaching up to touch your neck instinctively. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then where is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she swayed in place.

Your hand moved frantically over your collarbone, panic setting in as your fingers found only bare skin. Your locket was gone. “Shit,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you started scanning the floor beneath your feet. “Nat, it’s gone!”

Her hands immediately went to your shoulders, steadying you. “Don’t panic,” she said, her voice slurring but her tone trying to stay calm. “It… it can’t be far.”

But it was too late. The panic clawed its way up your throat, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. The music was too loud, the crowd too thick. You dropped to your knees, your hands scrambling over the sticky floor as you searched desperately for the locket.

“Excuse me! Sorry!” you mumbled, trying to push past people, but it was no use. The sea of feet around you made it impossible to see anything.

You backed up, bumping into someone behind you. A pair of hands immediately settled on your waist, steadying you. “Hey, you okay?” the guy asked, but you shoved him off without even looking, your vision blurring with tears.

Natasha was back at your side in an instant, her hands on your shoulders again, her mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear her. The world felt like it was spinning too fast, and all you could think about was the locket—your family heirloom. The one your mother had given you before she passed away. The one that had been passed down for generations. And now it was gone, lost in the chaos of some stupid party.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you stumbled backward, your breathing coming in short, panicked gasps. You didn’t even realize someone was pulling you out of the house until the cool night air hit your skin.

“Hey, hey,” that same guy's voice said, low and urgent. You blinked through the haze of your tears, and your heart twisted painfully when you saw who it was.

Bucky.

He had his hands on your arms, guiding you away from the crowd, his eyes filled with concern. “Come on, you’re okay,” he murmured, leading you to a quieter spot on the porch. “Breathe, alright? Just breathe.”

You tried to speak, but the words got caught in your throat. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, your vision still blurry from the tears.

“Look at me,” Bucky said softly, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

His words, his presence, grounded you just enough to pull in a shaky breath. “It’s gone, Buck,” you finally managed, your voice breaking. “The locket… my mom’s locket. It’s gone.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he glanced back toward the house. “Okay,” he said, his voice calm but determined. “We’re gonna find it.”

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “There’s too many people. It’s probably already stepped on or—or lost for good.”

“Hey,” Bucky said firmly, his hands tightening slightly on your arms. “We’ll find it. I promise.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was unwavering determination. His eyes softened, and he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Wait here,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’m going back in.”

“No, Buck—”

“I’ll find it,” he interrupted, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “Just stay here.”

Before you could protest, he turned and disappeared back into the house, leaving you alone on the porch, the night air chilling your skin. You sank onto the steps, your hands trembling as you clutched at your knees, praying silently that he was right.

The minutes felt like hours as you sat on the porch, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Every time the door opened, you looked up, hoping to see Bucky stepping out with your locket in hand. But each time, it was just another person stumbling out into the night, oblivious to your panic.

Finally, the door opened again, and Bucky emerged. His expression was serious, his steps purposeful, but his hands were empty.

Your heart sank, the last bit of hope slipping away. He walked over and crouched in front of you, his eyes meeting yours with a steady calm.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice firm but laced with regret. “I checked everywhere I could. Asked everyone. It’s just… not there.”

You nodded slowly, your throat tightening as you tried to process his words. The locket—your mother’s locket—was gone. A family heirloom, passed down through generations, lost in the chaos of a party. You tried to speak, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

“It’s gone,” you finally whispered, the words feeling heavy and final.

Bucky’s hand rested lightly on your knee, grounding you. “I know how much it meant to you,” he said, his voice steady. “And I’m sorry we couldn’t find it tonight. But we’ll figure something out. I’m not giving up.”

You shook your head, blinking back the tears that blurred your vision. “It was the only thing I had left of her,” you said, your voice breaking. “And now it’s just… gone.”

Bucky’s fingers gently squeezed your knee. “I get it,” he said quietly. “It’s not just a thing. It’s her.”

You nodded, wiping at your cheeks, but the tears kept coming. “It feels like I let her down,” you whispered, your hands trembling in your lap. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Bucky shifted, sitting beside you on the step. His shoulder brushed yours, and he looked out at the street, his voice calm and certain. “Hey, your okay, its gonna be okay”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to absorb his words. “How can you say that? Its gone,” .

“I know,” he said, his tone understanding. “But your mom wouldn’t want you to carry that weight. That locket—it was important, sure, but it doesn’t change the connection you had with her. You’ve got all those memories, all those stories. She’s still with you.”

His words settled over you, comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. You leaned into his shoulder, letting out a quiet sigh. “Thanks, Bucky,” you said softly, your voice still thick with emotion. “For always being there.”

His arm came around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Always,” he said simply.

For a while, you just sat there, the distant hum of the party fading into the background. The ache of losing the locket still lingered, but Bucky’s steady presence eased it, bit by bit. He didn’t try to fix everything, didn’t offer hollow reassurances. He just stayed—solid, dependable, exactly what you needed.

You broke the silence, your voice soft and hesitant. “What about that girl…?”

Bucky didn’t let you finish. “Forget about her,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I have my best girl right here” his eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was something unspoken between you, something heavy and meaningful.

Eventually, you sat up, brushing the last of the tears from your cheeks. You gave him a small, wry smile. “Guess I owe you one,” you said quietly.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You don’t owe me anything,” he replied. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, he added, “Except maybe a rematch at beer pong.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound a little shaky but genuine. “Deal,” you said, the weight on your chest feeling just a little lighter.

Now

Sam takes a deep breath as he reaches the door to your shared apartment, bracing himself. He isn’t entirely sure what he’s walking into, but he knows Bucky isn’t handling things well. He knocks firmly and waits, listening for any movement inside.

After a long pause, the door creaks open. Bucky stands there, looking like absolute hell. His hair’s a mess, his eyes bloodshot, and he’s still in yesterday’s clothes, rumpled and wrinkled.

“Sam?” Bucky’s voice is hoarse, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, man,” Sam says, leaning against the doorframe. “I came to check on you. Can I come in?”

Bucky steps aside, muttering, “Yeah… sure. Guess you uh probably know everything already.”

Sam walks in, his eyes immediately catching the shattered lamp on the floor, pieces scattered across the living room. “I know her side, but there's two sides to every coin” The air feels heavy, tense. He turns to Bucky, his voice steady. “She’s at Steve and my place. She’s safe if you're wondering.”

Bucky winces, looking away as his shoulders slump. “Good… that’s good.” He lets out a bitter chuckle, running a hand over his face. “Guess you’re here to tell me what a screw-up I am, huh?”

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “Bucky, I’m not here to kick you when you’re down. I’m here because we’re friends. And friends don’t abandon each other, even when one of them is making dumbass choices.”

Bucky scoffs, dropping onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. “Yeah, well… I deserve it.”

Sam takes the chair across from him, studying Bucky’s hunched figure. “You look like hell, man. Want to tell me what happened, your version?”

Bucky hesitates, his voice low and broken. “I don’t know. She was just standing there, looking at me like… like she was just disgusted at being in my presence ...and it hurt, i said sorry for the bar comment, but then we started to hash things out, I got so damn scared. So I did the only thing I know how to do—I pushed her away. Told her to leave.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, his tone sharp. “So you let her walk out? Alone? At night?”

Bucky’s face twists with guilt, and he nods. “Yeah, I know, i went after her but she was gone, that's no excuse i know, i put her in danger Sam, i can't believe it….And now she probably hates me.” He chuckles bitterly. “Hell, maybe she should, i do.”

“Don’t give me that self-pity crap,” Sam snaps. “She’s hurt, sure. But you know damn well she doesn’t hate you.”

Bucky exhales shakily. “Maybe she should. All I ever do is screw things up. I push her away because… because I’m too scared to admit how I feel. And now? I don’t even know if I can fix it.”

Sam leans forward, his voice firm. “You’ve got two choices, Buck. Sit here and wallow, or get off your ass and do something about it.”

Bucky finally meets his gaze, his voice barely a whisper. “What do I even say?”

Sam nods toward the shattered lamp. “Start by picking up the pieces. Then tell her the truth.”

Bucky swallows hard. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

Sam’s voice softens. “That’s a chance you’ll have to take, you cant just throw away the friendship you two have, i dont even know my friends from kindergarten, i couldnt tell you the slightest thing about em now….but you’ll never know unless you try.”

Bucky hesitates, then leans back, his gaze distant. “I’ve tried, Sam. More times than I can count.”

Sam frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s voice grows quieter, tinged with frustration. “I’ve been trying to tell her for years—little things here and there. Dropping hints, pushing the boundaries, trying to get her to see me the way I see her. But every damn time, she pulls back, like she’s scared of what’s on the other side of those walls she’s built.”

Sam watches him, his expression thoughtful. “And you think she doesn’t feel the same?”

Bucky lets out a hollow laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. But how the hell am I supposed to keep putting myself out there when she won’t meet me halfway? Why does it always have to be me to make the first move? Why can’t she give me a sign? Something, anything that lets me know I’m not imagining this?” Bucky’s voice cracks, and he rakes a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling out. “It’s like every time I try to get closer, she pulls back. And then I’m stuck wondering if I’m just some idiot chasing after something that was never there.”

Sam leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re scared, she’s scared—it’s a mess, man. But sitting here, letting the fear eat away at you, isn’t gonna solve anything. You want her to meet you halfway? Maybe she’s been waiting for you to show her it’s safe to.”

Bucky shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “I’ve shown her, Sam. Hell, I’ve been there for her through everything. I’ve tried to coax her out of those walls, but every time I think I’m making progress, she shuts me down. And now? Now she’s out there, going on dates with other guys. What am I supposed to think?”

Sam tilts his head, his gaze steady. “You ever think maybe she’s just as scared as you are? That she’s waiting for you to stop hinting and just say it outright?”

Bucky’s fists clench, his frustration boiling over. “Why does it have to be me? Why can’t she take the damn risk for once? I’m not the only one in this.”

Sam exhales, leaning back. “You’re right, it’s a two-way street. But you’ve got to ask yourself—if she’s scared, just like you, who’s gonna be brave enough to break the cycle?”

Bucky stands, pacing the room. His voice drops, low and pained. “What if I put everything out there, and she doesn’t feel the same? I don’t think I could handle that.”

Sam’s gaze follows him, his tone firm but empathetic. “Or what if she’s been feeling the same this whole time, but she’s been too scared to lose you? What if she’s been waiting for you to say what she can’t?”

Bucky stops, his hands on his hips, his head bowed. “I can’t lose her, Sam. Not as a friend, not as… whatever this is. She’s everything. And if I’m wrong—if I tell her how I feel and she walks away—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Sam stands, crossing the room to face Bucky. “Buck, you’re already losing her by doing nothing. This limbo you’re both stuck in? It’s tearing you apart. You’ve got to take the leap, man. Because if you don’t, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Bucky swallows hard, his eyes clouded with doubt. “And if I crash and burn?”

Sam gives him a small, encouraging smile. “Then you’ll get back up. And you’ll know you tried. But if you don’t take that chance, you’ll always wonder what could’ve been.”

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, his hands still clenched at his sides. “I’ve never been good at this—at saying what I feel. And now, with everything so screwed up…”

“Then stop overthinking it,” Sam says. “Tell her the truth. Not hints, not half-measures. The whole thing.”

Bucky looks at him, his expression caught between fear and hope. “What if she’s already made up her mind? What if she’s moving on?”

Sam shakes his head. “You don’t know that. And you won’t unless you ask. But hiding behind ‘what ifs’ isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”

Bucky stares at the shattered lamp, his mind racing. Finally, he lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Alright,” he says quietly. “I’ll talk to her. But if this blows up in my face, you’re buying me drinks for the next decade.”

Sam smirks, clapping him on the shoulder. “Deal. Now get yourself together, man. You’ve got work to do.”

Bucky nods, though the weight of what lies ahead presses heavily on him. As Sam heads for the door, he glances back. “Just remember, Buck—she’s not the only one with walls. You’ve got a few of your own.”

Wanda clapped her hands together, her tone light. “Okay, enough brooding. How about some brunch? I’m starving.”

Natasha perked up at that, crossing her arms. “I could go for some pancakes. What about the farmers market?”

You sighed, your head falling back against the couch. “I’m down for food, but we can’t go to the farmers market.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her tone edging toward irritation. “Why not?”

“Because we can’t go there without Bucky,” you said simply, your voice flat but firm.

Natasha groaned, throwing her hands up. “God, why does everything have to come back to Bucky? He’s not exactly the Farmers Market King. We can survive one trip without him.”

You sat up, your eyes flashing. “Stop it, Nat. Just stop. Look, we’ve all messed up before. Bucky’s not some random guy who screwed up—he’s Bucky, its him. He’s been there for me through everything. We can’t just hate on him because we got in a fight.”

Natasha scoffed, her voice sharp. “I can hate on him just fine. He’s an asshole, and I’m tired of watching him drag you through this endless cycle of misery.”

Your hands clenched at your sides as you stood up, your voice snapping like a whip. “And I’m tired of you acting like it’s so black and white! He’s not perfect, but none of us are. You think I haven’t made mistakes? You think I haven’t hurt him too?”

Natasha stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “You’re always defending him! No matter what he does, you jump in to shield him, like he’s some wounded puppy. When are you gonna wake up and realize he’s not worth it?”

“He’s not worth it?” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “You don’t get it, Nat. He’s not just some guy who broke my heart. He’s my best friend! You don’t throw someone like that away because they messed up once, or twice, or even a hundred times. He’s Bucky, for god’s sake!”

The room went silent, the weight of your words hanging between you. Natasha stared at you, her jaw tightening before she shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. “Fine,” she said coldly. “Do whatever you want. But don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart again.”

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed off into Steve’s room. Natasha grabbed her bag as she headed for the door. Before she left, she glanced at Wanda and Steve, her voice sharp. “All I do is try to help, but if she wants to keep sticking up for his dumb ass, that’s on her, leave me out of it next time.”

The door slammed behind her, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake.

Wanda and Steve exchanged glances, both looking a little shell-shocked. Finally, Wanda sighed, brushing her hair back. “I’ll go after Nat,” she said quietly. She turned to Steve, her brow raised. “You got her?”

Steve nodded, giving Wanda a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’ve got her.”

Once Wanda left, Steve turned to. Steve hesitated for a moment before following. He knocked gently on the door. “Hey… you okay?”

There was no answer at first, just the sound of you pacing. Finally, your voice came through, quieter but still tense. “I’m fine, Steve. Just… need a minute.”

Steve leaned against the doorframe, his voice soft. “Take all the time you need. I’m here, I’ll always be right here…”

[meazalykov]

that's a wrap

alex popp x actress!reader

summary: you decide that it is time to become a full-time wife

in the golden glow of the los angeles twilight, you gaze out of your sleek penthouse window, the city sprawling beneath you like a living canvas painted with vibrant hues of orange and deepening blue. 

you have lived in this city for so long, your life woven into the cinematic fabric. from the moment you left germany as a child, your heart yearned for a stage—the bright lights of hollywood, the echo of applause, and the thrill of storytelling. 

you have become one of the most recognized actresses of your generation in the horror genre. an oscar at nineteen, an emmy at twenty-three, and countless nominations and awards have been attached to your name. 

with each role you’ve played, your name becomes tied to brilliance, embodying strength and vulnerability.

yet, as your career flourishes, an unsettling feeling begins to simmer beneath the surface—a whisper of change, a longing for something different. 

at thirty-one, you find a different kind of love is beckoning from across the ocean.

alex, your wife and the fierce striker for wolfsburg, has always been your anchor. mutual friends introduced you to her back in 2014, and due to your career you couldn’t take things seriously at first. however, alex always tried with you. you’ve been married to her now for four years, and its been the best four years of your life.

one day, when you came back to germany for a couple of months, alex wanted to talk to you..

“i’m thinking of retiring from international football,” alex says one evening, her voice steady but laced with a hint of uncertainty. you are nestled together on your plush couch, surrounded by the cozy warmth of your shared home. you sense the gravity of the declaration. 

football has been everything for her—the highs of goals scored, the heartache of losses, the euro wins (and losses), alex loved football more than anything (besides you of course). 

“are you sure?” you ask, searching alex’s emerald-green eyes, which are reflective with both spark and sadness. you remember the times you’ve spent watching matches together, the way she lights up at every goal and every tackle, the intensity that comes alive within her. 

“you’ve worked so hard for this.”

a small smile curls on alex’s lips, her fingers intertwining with yours. 

“i have, and it’s been an incredible journey. but i think it’s time for a change. i want to focus on the club, on my next steps, and… on us.” she pauses, laying her head on your shoulder. 

“the idea of retiring feels freeing, like opening a door to something new. but it’s a big step, especially with how much i’ve given to the national team.”

your heart flutters at her words. there it is—the dream of shared life, the possibility of focusing on each other more than your respective careers. but you feel a twinge of your own aspirations weaving into the conversation. 

in recent months, you have found yourself more and more drained by the demands of acting. each press tour and red carpet event feels like a weight; the personas you crafted for the cameras sometimes feel far removed from who you want to be.

your love for acting left years ago, but you’ve never talked about it. millions of people would do anything to have the success that you had, which is why you remained humble when it came to your career.

you bite your lip, contemplating your own path.

“and what about you?” 

you finally speak, your voice soft and contemplative. 

“i mean, i’ve been thinking... maybe it’s time for me to step back, too.”

alex turns her head sharply, a mixture of surprise and concern twisting her features. 

“what do you mean?”

you take a deep breath, your heart racing. 

“i’ve loved acting my whole life. since i was ten years old.. but lately… i don’t know. it feels like there’s something more out there for me. something besides just the next film or the next award. maybe i want to stay here, with you, in germany. support you full-time as you transition.”

“you love what you do,” alex reminds you, concern etched into her expression.

“i do.. i think,” you acknowledge, “but I don’t know if it’s what I want anymore. it’s all so noisy, and sometimes I crave the quiet—the kind I can have with you.” it’s a realization you’ve been wrestling with, the weight of your own dreams now intertwined with the desire to nurture the softness of your domestic life.

at the age of ten, you left germany to be on a famous 2000s sitcom in the united states. not much was known about you, since you were a child playing in a child’s role at the time. you were on the sitcom from the age of ten to seventeen. afterwards, you moved onto movies– which is where you started getting your name plastered with the huge box office hits. 

the following days with alex blur into a blend of introspection and exhilaration. 

you left germany, again, a month after the conversation you had with your wife. 

you are scheduled to appear on a popular late-night show in new york city—a platform that demands your presence but feels like yet another bolt of pressure in the timeline of your life. you look forward to it; yet, somewhere deep down, you wonder how your announcement will change things. 

the thought of standing in front of an audience—centering their gaze on you, waiting for your words—fills you with both excitement and anxiety. it always had. 

as the lights of new york glimmer outside the studio windows, you sit backstage, your heart echoing loudly against your ribcage. the host, a charming figure with a knack for drawing out emotion, greets you with warmth that feels strangely nourishing amidst the crowd’s overwhelming enthusiasm. 

once seated beneath the bright lights, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline, but this time it’s laced with purpose.

“y/n y/n y/n,” the host smiles, 

“the first time you’ve sat in this chair, you were 13 years old with the cast of that 70s show– you’ve dazzled ussince you were just a child. your transformative performances have captivated audiences worldwide.” 

the host stops talking as the audience claps, you smile, your hands held together in your lap as you sit in a nice black blazer outfit.

“but tonight, we hear you have some news that may surprise your fans.” the host says after the clapping died down.

you clear your throat, feeling the electrifying rush in your veins as you lean forward.

“thank you so much for having me,” you begin, the words flowing as if infused with years of pent-up emotion. 

“ it has been a privilege to do what I love for all these years, but tonight I want to share something personal. after woman of the hour premieres, it will be my last movie you will see me in.” the studio falls silent, the audience holding its breath in disbelief.

“after the film premieres, I will be retiring from acting for good.”

the reactions erupt—gasps, applause, disbelief—as you feel the host’s eyes wide with surprise. you smile gently, eyes twinkling with both sadness and liberation. 

“life changes, and so do we. for me, it’s about stepping back to embrace the next chapter—to support my wife, to explore new passions, to discover who I am outside the roles I’ve played.”

the host nods, admiration shining in his eyes. 

“that’s incredibly brave of you, y/n. how does it feel to step away from something that has defined you for so long?”

“it feels... freeing. and a little scary.” you let out a soft laugh, your heart now racing with vulnerability. 

“but I realized that life is about growing, about finding joy in unexpected places. for me, it’s about my family. we’re at the point where it feels right to re-prioritize what matters.”

your words resonate through the studio, and as your announcement settles, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. the claps and cheers from the audience feel like an embrace. 

this is your decision, not just for you, but for your love, for a future you envision filled with laughter, and quiet evenings.

as soon as the segment concludes and the applause fades, you are flooded with emotion. walking off the stage, you can already envision the life ahead of you in germany, around the comforts of home and the brilliant sun-kissed laughter alongside alex. no more LA, just wolfsburg where your heart belongs. 

you can finally imagine taking long morning walks, exploring new projects, starting fresh hobbies together—whatever you both like at that moment in time.

when you return home to germany that night, alex is waiting for you, a mixture of pride and adoration in her eyes. 

“i saw you,” she whispers as you embrace, her voice tinged with warmth that melts away the lingering uncertainty. 

“you were amazing, love.”

together, you sink into your beloved couch, the world outside shuttered in the nighttime calm. 

“i can’t believe you actually did it,” alex says, a playful rise in her voice. 

“you dropped the bomb.”

you laugh, the warmth blooming in your chest. 

“felt like the right moment.”

“yes,” alex smiles. you feel the flutter of excitement at the thought of so many uncharted territories waiting for you both.

“imagine how lovely it will be,” alex continues, taking your hand between her own. 

“to wake up every day without the rush of schedules, just life… our life.”

“with lots of dogs and the daughter we hope to bring in the next few years,” you tease, knowing the next steps you’ve discussed with your wife.

“how about we start with a little getaway to the mountains next weekend?”

“that sounds perfect,” you declare, her fondness illuminating as you share a kiss, both of you feeling free from the burdens that once held you captive.

masterlist

[shalotttower]

Will-o'-the-wisp

Title: Will-o'-the-wisp

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader (female)

Summary: Reader encouters fae!Chrollo and breaks some rules along the way.

Word count: 1700+

Notes: yandere!Chrollo, fae!Chrollo, abduction, manipulation, AU, modern setting with fae, Chrollo is charming af and a bit creepy as usual, Reader is doomed long before they know it and slightly depressed

You walk home the same way every day, like many people do. There's comfort in routines. Comfort and security which you crave. The familiar routes, the repetitive programs on TV and the books you've read a million times. You like to know what happens next and hate surprises.

The fourteen-year-old you wouldn't approve.

Maybe even express a little pity, because she always thought you two were destined for an adventure, like in fantasy books you used to devour one after another. Every free second was spent reading or dreaming, but life went on and adventures didn't happen. The girl grew older, a lot more careful and a lot less hopeful.

When you finish work, it's usually around six. Your adult self is practical and prefers to save money on the bus, besides, every other time you take it, you end up having to stand, squeezed between people. It's not worth the frustration; a fifteen minute walk isn't that long and the crime rate in the area is low.

There's a small grove nearby that nobody has bothered to turn into a park. The residents made their own paths in time, put a few signs so the joggers wouldn't get lost, but that's it. Once or twice a month you stroll through there, picking up trash left on the side. People make you want to move to the woods altogether sometimes.

That's how the day starts or ends — with crossing a bridge which connects the grove to your neighbourhood.

And this is where you see him for the first time.

The man looks so out of place among the rustic wooden railings and rushing water below. Nobody wears this kind of clothes here. Expensive and elegant, something that blends well in a big city. They don't stare at passersby like he does either. You hate when people do that ─ block already narrow spaces by just stopping midway. Or groups who spread across the entire sidewalk.

"Excuse me," you say politely. Polite is good. Polite can be used as a shield and always makes you look better than you are. "I need to pass."

He smiles, then moves aside. "Of course."

His face is exactly what you imagine when thinking of pleasant: beautiful grey eyes with long lashes, pointed chin and a strange mix of delicate and sharp edges.

"Thank you."

The smile widens. "You're welcome."

---

It's time to accept that you've grown into an average person with a simple desire to live in comfort. Dreaming isn't your strength anymore, the last book you picked up was several years ago. Movies bore you fifteen minutes in, even if everybody else praises them; the idea of a relationship seems exhausting.

You do enjoy gardening.

Growing tomatoes is a far cry from distant fictional lands, but they taste nice with a pinch of salt.

The condo you live in doesn't have enough space and light, so you chose a small patch of ground in the grove to start a garden. A few tomato plants and some herbs like chives and basil. It might be illegal, yet nobody has come to yell at you. Most people don't pay attention to what's happening here, as long as you don't damage the trees or leave trash.

You water and prune, weed, add fertilizer if needed. There're some flowers too; mother told you that marigolds scare pests away from veggies and keep the soil healthy. They're pretty, little orange spots.

---

You find a crystal at you patch. Azure would be too bland to describe its color ─ maybe more like a mix of cerulean and moon stone. It's round in shape, polished so nicely that the outlines of your face are reflected in the surface. Did a magpie bring it? Or a kid? The thought of someone poking around your garden makes you frown. You hope they didn't step on your basil.

The stone is heavy and cool. You turn it around, entranced, before stuffing it into the pocket of your jeans. Maybe you can ask the neighbours' kids about it later.

"Would you look at that," you mutter and bend to inspect a tomato plant. Two green fruit, each no bigger than your knuckle, hang there, sprouted over the weekend. "Hello, my pretties."

---

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's past 1 AM, you should sleep; instead, you keep twisting the stone in the moonlight.

You asked kids from around here, but nobody claimed it.

Maybe it's a lucky charm, you've had a wonderful day. Got a call from your cousin in the morning, she has't contacted you in a long while and it was nice to catch up. After lunch, the resource manager praised your work, then an elderly lady from the store complimented your cardigan.

At a certain angle, the stone seems almost glowing. A summer night sky condensed into a tiny orb. Your fingers trace its smooth surface without much thought until eventually it drops onto the pillow by your side.

You don't notice when exactly you fall asleep.

It's the strangest dream you've ever seen.

Gone is the condo building with its stuffy kitchenette and old pipes that constantly rumble. Instead, you feel damp grass underneath your feet. Wind brushes through the hem of your nightdress, carrying the scents of rain and moss. So many shades of black and raven blue swirl together that you barely recognize a signpost nearby. It's the grove, but you've never seen it like this, as dark as it can be only at night.

It's uncomfortable to stand barefoot, with a chill creeping up your legs.

After a while your fingers touch the rough bark of a nearby tree to get a sense of direction, and you start walking, because there isn't anything else to do.

There's the bridge, you think. If you just get to the bridge, the rest will be simple.

You're walking there, or that's what you think when a small ball of light appears right before your nose.

Fireflies don't glow blue. It doesn't falter, doesn't flicker, coming up closer then farther like a pendulum. There's something uncanny and fragile about it. For a second you forget everything and stand mesmerized, until it starts moving.

Through the trees, past the branches, onwards.

It's more instinctual than anything ─ you don't want to be left here alone again, so you follow. Light is good, darkness isn't. The ground becomes more uneven as you go, the grass changes to moss, but you can barely register anything at this point apart from that lonely glow. It halts at times as if making sure you're keeping up.

Is that a clearing ahead? Your eyes hurt from trying to focus.

The blue dot continues to float, never speeding up, never falling behind.

Then it disappears.

No. Not disappears ─ settles on the tip of a pale finger.

There's your tomato patch, your plants, the empty box that you forgot to take back to the condo.

But it's impossible.

Your garden should be not very far from the border, yet it feels like you've walked through half of the grove by now.

Why is he here?

"It took you a while," he says, the stranger from the bridge whose eyes made you pause before you caught yourself. "I was waiting, my dear."

Maybe you shouldn't ask. Maybe the wisest thing would be to turn around and run. You step back and trip on a root which somehow snuck between the moss. He catches your hand before you fall and doesn't let go. Instead his thumb caresses your skin in leisurely strokes.

There's a faint scent of lilies coming from him, and something else. Something heavy, equally sweet that lingers on the edge of cloying and enticing.

Smells aren't supposed to be so strong in dreams.

"I need to go."

"Where?"

This simple question asked in an equally plain tone makes you falter. What does he mean 'where'?

"Home," you say softly and try to free your hand again without success. The man leans in close enough that you can see his face, illuminated by that blue light.

"And where is home?"

"I-" you swallow. "I have to go."

He releases you with surprising ease; you don't waste any time rushing towards the path. The long walk has exhausted you, and the lack of light makes it difficult to tell which turns to take. You stumble multiple times. The hem of your nightdress catches a few twigs. You sprint past the trees, past the low bushes along the familiar trail, and it's there, suddenly in front of you: the wooden bridge.

Out of breath, you grab the railing. And then open your eyes on the same side where you started.

How?

Again and again, you dash across it, yet every time there's a single step left to cross over the stream, the view shifts. Your feet land at the beginning of the bridge. On the ninth time when it's impossible to run any longer, you press your forehead to the railing. Every breath feels short and raspy.

"That's enough, dear."

"What is this?" You grip the planks with trembling hands. "I don't understand. Why can't I-"

A coat falls over your shoulders; you clutch at it mindlessly, because it's warm and you're shaking all over.

"You thanked me. Claimed my land, charmingly audacious of you. Such care and love, right under my nose."

There's no malice in his voice. Gently, finger by finger, he uncurls the tight grip of your hand. The stone is there, cerulean blue like summer sky condensed into a tiny orb.

"Took my gift and kept it close to your heart."

It takes some effort but eventually you manage to speak. "I didn't," you whisper urgently, despite the shiny proof in your palm. "I didn't know! Take it back."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that."

"I didn't know!"

He lifts you in his arms when your knees give out and you sink to the ground, still gripping that damned stone. His coat carries the same distinct scent of lilies and heavy sweetness. The sceneries you dreamed of when younger pop in your head, like old postcards covered with dust, of mystical beings hidden from human eye, fantastical places no one has seen, grand adventures where heroes defy impossible odds and come out victorious.

Those were tales for the brave and imaginative. You're neither.

"It doesn't matter. The land claims you," he says. "And so do I."

[kaiyunsim]

In between sets —

pairing : idol!anton x male!reader

summary : after recently coming back to the gym, you are a bit rusty and forget what to do. luckily, the only other person who goes is willing to help.

warnings : SMUT!! (dni minors), unprotected sex, kinda dacryphillia, sex in a public setting, sex while hiding, (provably more but idk, pls lmk if i should add more)

a/n : THESE ANTON PHOTOS GOT ME FEELING REALLY H***Y !!! also first smut so lmk how it is and maybe i’ll do more

— (w/c : 2.7k) — not proof read — minors dni —

anton had a routine. 3-4 times a week. early mornings before practice. sometimes he would have a gym buddy which was normally sungchan, wonbin, or eunseok but this time he decided to go solo.

he always has airpods in, keeping his mind in check by playing some music. he a was used to seeing the usuals, especially since the gym is almost always empty in the early mornings but was somewhat surprised to see someone new, someone he hasn’t seen before.

the newbie seemed to be fumbling their way through the weights section, looking moody along the rows of equipment. anton couldn’t help but notice him, it was quite a cute sight to see. they weren’t decked out in typical gymwear, instead, opting for a loose hoodie and sweats. their hair was slightly disheveled, looking as if they didn’t intend on coming today but decided to give it a try anyway.

by the end of his set, anton glanced over and noticed they were staring over at a dumbbell with what seemed like frustration or confusion. it was almost endearing. with a smirk, anton walks over.

“hey,” anton starts, pulling out one of his airpods. “you new here?”

you blink to look up to him, somewhat startled, you didn’t really notice him, “uh, yeah. just…trying to get back into shape,” you say, scratching the back of your head with a shy grin. “i’m y/n”

“oh, um… i think so. i used to work out, like, two years ago? but i kind of forgot what i was doing.” you laugh, clearly a little embarrassed, and anton found himself chuckling too.

“don’t worry about it,” anton said, leaning in a little closer. “why don’t we start with something simple? i’ll spot you.”

they moved to the bench press, anton demonstrating the proper grip and form as you listened intently. anton couldn't help but notice the way your eyes lingered, just a little too long, whenever he showed you a move. you would look and keep eye contact but it would wander to view the visible muscles you can see on anton’s arms. every time he reached in to help adjust your grip or stance, he noticed a brief flicker in your gaze, almost like he was wondering if the proximity was intentional. anton found himself leaning in just a touch closer each time.

as they finished up, anton noticed that you seemed more relaxed, even playful. you lightly punched anton's shoulder as they headed to the water fountain, giving him a grin. “thanks, man. i feel like i’m getting my gym routine back”

“no problem,” anton replied, feeling a heat rise as your eyes met his, this time lingering. "you know, i don’t mind helping out… if you need someone to keep you motivated.”

you pause, then smile, his eyes narrowing slightly with a glint of interest. you found anton attractive, plus it was a gym buddy that could help you get in shape, “how about tomorrow, same time?”

“deal.” anton’s heart raced as they exchanged numbers, both a little reluctant to say goodbye.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

the next morning, anton is already warmed up and stretching, tired due to having practices after his session yesterday, when he spots a familiar face coming in. today, your hoodie is swapped for a fitted t-shirt, showing more of your lean frame. anton can’t help but notice, a small blush playing on his face along with a smirk. you seems a little more confident, giving anton a nod and a smile as he heads over.

there was a change of focus today, instead of looking to work on arms, it was a day for the legs. anton guided you to the part where you squat with weights to improve your legs. trying nudge you to push yourself, anton adds more weights than you normally do so that he can spot you but as he does so you notice his eyes wandering up and down, smirk and all.

as they go through their workout, the tension between them feels more palpable than ever. you guys are talking and joking, but the physical closeness during spotting, the occasional brush of hands, and lingering eye contact hint at something more.

anton was almost certain you were flexing your muscles a bit when you caught anton watching, and anton found himself lingering longer than he usually would when spotting him.

after a few exercises, they move to the bench press again. you lay down, and anton stepped into position to spot him, standing right above him. their eyes met, and for a second, neither of them said anything. your eyes wander to his lower half before looking away and coughing hoping he didn’t notice. you start breathing a little heavier than you should have been, your gaze locked on anton’s, and the air felt thick.

anton finally broke the silence, his voice low. “you’ve got this. focus on your breathing.”

but you weren’t focused on your breathing. you barely even heard the words as anton leaned closer, hands hovering over yours, fingers just inches from touching. you could feel the heat radiating from him, and you couldn’t resist any longer. as you sit up after his last rep, you decide to stay close, closer than necessary, your knee brushing against anton’s leg.

finally, as they’re finishing up, they take a moment to rest on one of the benches near the locker rooms. you lean back, catching your breath, and give anton a sly look.

“you make this a lot more fun than i expected,” you say, your eyes glinting. “not sure i’d be so motivated without you.”

anton chuckles, feeling bold. “maybe we should work on some, uh, cool-down stretches together,” he suggests, half-joking but hoping his fellow gym goer catches the hint.

“maybe i should… uh, grab a shower after this,” you say, his voice barely a whisper. “you wanna join me?” you joke playfully.

anton didn’t hesitate. he made his way to the locker room, the silence charged with anticipation. the sound of water echoed through the empty space as he stripped off his sweaty top.

you immediately blush, and he could see your reaction. now you remain at a loss of words at the sight of anton’s body. fuck… it wasn’t the most built but he had some meat and muscle. “a-anton… i was joking” you try clear up, trying to drag him out of the locker rooms.

“well, i’m going to pretend that you weren’t” anton says, almost with a different, more teasing, energy. he tries to close the gap between them, enjoying the squirming you do when he does so.

he pushed you down on to a bench, “you don’t think i never saw you staring right?” he said playfully. his arms placed on both of your shoulders keeping you still.

your eyes widen, feeling the weight of anton makes you squirm slightly. you remain quiet, not able to form a sentence coherently in the current situation you are in.

anton kept that sly ass smirk, “why don’t you take this off?” he teases, playing with the hem of your shirt.

he was really pushing your buttons now. but you know that there was no one else in the gym because it was so early so…

fuck it.

(smut starts here)

you knew what anton was implying so you decided to catch him off guard and make the first move. you quickly close the gap between the two of you, lips colliding. your lips parted along with antons, and like that, the tension finally snaps.

their kiss was slow at first, you wanted it to be careful of course, but anton quickly takes control and it becomes more intense, fuled with the excitement building up throughout the days.

your hands find themselves on anton’s chest, fingers tracing the ridges and lines of his muscles, long with squeezing his pecs, feeling it out, almost as if you are trying to memorize them. anton’s hands find their way down to your waist, enjoying how their bodies fit perfectly.

you break the kiss to catch your breath, looking rugged and already worked up. anton sees you like this and brings back the smug smirk, with a hint of desire behind it, “you look so fucking cute right now,” he says, ruffling you rough hair while staring into your half-lidded eyes.

your usual shyness was softened by the confidence that had come from finally breaking the tension, you resch up, hand sliding to the back oh anton’s neck, and pulls him in for another kiss, slower this time to savor the moment.

anton’s hands move from over the fabric, to the shin of your waist, show removing your shirt to see your body for himself. “yknow,” anton says, running a finger along your jawline, “i don’t normally do this with gym buddies”

you undo the belt buckle to signal that your waiting for from anton, “nice to know im special” you let his pants drop seeing a bulge in his underwear. “someone wants to say hello,” kai says playfully.

anton’s smirk looks like it’s derived from something primal, “in the gym space? you’re something else” he says, giving a quick search of anyone else before pulling out his cock.

it was something else, nothing too big, but something that definitly match his body. you guys switch positions, anton sitting on the bench and you on the floor on your knees, appreciating the sight in front of you. your gaze didn’t last too long as you quickly took the head in.

his legs spread further, giving you easier access to what you want. “god… fuck…” it’s been forever since anton was able to do something like this as he is an idol. but since it was at a time where no one was around it was almost perfect for anton.

you take it deeper and deeper, bobbing up and down, keeping a steady, not so fast, pace before you feel a force from the back of your head. it was anton’s hand, pushing down further and faster. you start to gag, it was too much for you, but anton liked that. some tears started to stream and everything was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen

“yeah, you like that?” he says with a smirk, lifting his hand from you neck to let you catch your breath. you soon pop off your motch fron his dick, heavily breathing as your vision started to get blurry.

without letting you recover, anton picks you up and places you on the bench, stripping your bottom half while doing so. now that both of you are without clothes, anton can give you some attention.

his hand runs along your thighs, eventually reaching your shaft, nice and hard. “mind if i play with this?” he asks. you give him a nod, still catching your breath.

he takes it and starts stroking it, making you react with whimpering and squirming. it was the feeling of recovery and that sumg ass smirk he kept on his face as he looks you down as he strokes you.

some moans started to leave your mouth as he stroked faster and faster, “a-anton… t-thats too much…”

“c’mon, you dont have to call me anton, what about toni? my friends call me that sometimes,” he teases you verbally, while also teasing you physically, slowing his pace on your shaft.

“t-toni…” you whimper, “i think we shouldn-“ you say before you get cut off by anton’s sneaky lips.

“that’s enough,” he says, letting go of your shaft, making you needy as he leaves you with no stimulation. you sit there, looking like an absolute mess on one of the workout benches and anton takes a step back to admire how you look.

he then spreads your legs which makes you react with surprise, “w-wait,” you retort but before you could say anymore you feel antons cock enter you.

you thought he would start off slow but it was the opposite, thrusting into you with what seemed like no other thoughts. it was probably because of how you looked like how messed up he made you already.

it was so big inside you, hitting your prostate everytime, making you a moaning mess. it was good, making your eyes roll up and back arch for better angles.

he enjoyed the warmth inside you, after being a trainee he hasn’t been able to have anything like this so his body reactes well to your warmth and tightness.

though you guys were making lots of noise you were able to hear the chime that happens when the front door opens. panicked, anton picks you up,dick still in you, and brings you to the shower room.

you’re able to hear a voice, “anton are you here? manager’s looking for you,” you arent able to distingust the voice but anton can, it was eunseok, one of his hyungs he goes to the gym with.

anton likes the sense of thrill that comes from the situation happening right now, he puts you on a shelf and smirks, hoping you get the message with whats going to happen.

he turns on the shower to cause some noise in the bathroom before starting to thrust into you again, softer this time but more calculated to a reaction from you. and it definitely did. you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sensation. you opened your mouth to make a noise but anton covered it with his hand, “can’t have the other person know what’s happening can we?” he whispers playfully. he liked seeing you like this, recuded to a mes because of him, yet not able to express it.

“yeah eunseok, i’m just showering,” he replied, sounding normal. in reality he looked as rough and sweatt as ever.

“well, hurry up, you have an early schedule today” eunseok reminded before the same chime played, indicating he left.

anton finally lets go of your mouth, letting your whimpers and moans out only to be silenced again by his mouth meeting yours.

“god damn, just hearing you makes me wanna cum,” anton groans, head tilting back.

“y-you should…” you manage to get out between the noises he makes you make.

just by hearing that anton’s pace quickens, “fuck, you asked for it,” he says, riding his climax out, letting his fluids leak into you. he knows you’re close but haven’t came yet so he tries to put all his attention to you.

anton keeps his semi hard cock in you, slow pace just to let you enjoy, practiaclly for cockwarming. he knows you can’t cum with just him moving slowly so he grasps your shaft and starts stroking it while also putting attention to your nipples with his mouth.

anton takes his mouth off for a moment “you like that? my cock in you while you’re a moaning mess?” anton teases,

if your were moaning before, you’re fucking crying from pleasure now. it was so much happening and anton knew what he was doing to you.

he takes your hand and places it in his own pecs and lets your feel him out. as you feel everything happen all at the same time it’s only inevitable that you would reach your climax.

“toni..!” you moan the other man’s name loudly, “i-i’m gonna cum!” you scream.

you feel a large sense of euphoria while white stings of cum come out of your cock, landing on anton’s and your chest and abs. anton finally takes out his cock from your ass.

“f-fuck,” you say, recovering from the high dooamine sensation.

“let’s get you cleaned up,” he says as you both clean up from the sensual encounter you guys had. anton lets you shower but he doesn’t because he’s in a hurry as eubseok was waiting for him.

you guys both leave the locker room and you finally get to see the face of the mysterious voice. you bow to eunseok before saying bye to anton.

“why are your workout clothes on the bench?” eunseok questions while they both exit.

“oh erm,” anton stutters, trying to come up with an excuse, “i was just really sweaty,” he replies, obviously lying

“and why is your hair dry? i thought you just showered?” eunseok questioned further,

and just like that, anton knew he was fucked.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a few words. l Joel Miller

Summary: words he didn't want you to hear

Warnings:  angst, unpleasant conversation, they move away from each other

A/N: nothing special. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

Tommy looked at his brother as if he was seeing him for the first time in his life. He hadn't expected this and was slowly regretting that he had shown up at the stables with a few bottles of beer that evening.

"You can't be fucking serious." he finally said.

The man who was sitting on a haystack by the wall seemed exhausted. His brown eyes were fixed on the horse in the opposite stall, the bottle in his big hands still full of beer.

"You slept with her?" Joel looked at him surprised. "What? Simple question. Did you sleep with her or not?"

Joel shook his head. "No."

"But you wish you did."

He looked down, but he couldn't lie to someone who knew him so well. Of course he thought about it. Most often when he was alone in the dark bedroom. Memories of every kiss, tender touch, moments when he held you in his arms - all of these haunted him like ghosts.

He was furious because he wanted more. He wanted to be alive again, to feel again. But should he?

"Joel, you've known each other for years, you live together. Why are you messing with her head if you don't want anything to do with her?"

"It's not like that, Tommy..." his voice was tired, barely audible. "Everything's different with her."

"So why don't you want to give it a chance?" Tommy took a sip of beer. "I don't get it. If you want to be with her, then be. Tell her how you feel and..."

"I'm too old for this!" Joel snapped. "She deserves better, and I can't give it to her."

"Bullshit!" Tommy muttered.

There was silence for a moment. The distant noises of the city settling in for the night drifted through the open stable door. Tommy sat down next to his brother, resting his arms on his knees.

"She's a really nice girl," he said. "I see how she looks at you, cares about you and Ellie. Do you really want to break her heart like that?"

"She's tough."

"Yes, she is."

"Are you going out?"

You were just putting a thermos with a hot drink and a couple of sandwiches into your backpack, you didn't even look up when Joel went down to the kitchen in the morning.

"Yeah. I'm going on patrol." you answered.

Joel frowned. "Our turn is tomorrow."

"I swapped with Paul. He'll go with you. You two get along."

An unpleasant shiver ran down his spine, his heart sped up. The backpack was almost ready, and you didn't seem in the mood for long conversations.

"I'd rather go with you." he grumbled, coming closer and clenching his hands on the back of the chair.

"A change will do you good. It'll do us good too."

"Have you talked to Tommy about this?"

You slung your backpack over your shoulder and looked him in the eye for the first time. He saw something strange in that look. A mixture of sadness, anger, and some kind of severity. You hadn't looked at him like that before.

"You'll probably talk to him yourself, right?" you said "I think..." your voice broke for a moment, but you quickly got back on track. "I think when I get back I'll ask Maria to find me another place to live."

"W-What? Why?"

"We both know why."

You adjusted your backpack and left the house. The world you had built had just collapsed.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"You could have not let her go!"

"She's an adult, Joel! She came last night, said she had already talked to Paul. I couldn't say no to her." Tommy put the crate in the storage room and looked at Joel.

He could see that his brother was furious and distraught. You usually went on patrols together, Joel didn't like you going out alone. Although he knew you would manage, he didn't fully trust others. Now he had completely lost control over anything.

Tommy looked at him with pity. "I think she must have heard us yesterday. Maria saw her in town, she was upset. Then she showed up at our place. I didn't ask, it's none of my business."

"You could have stopped her." Joel repeated quietly.

"And you could have kept her with you. But you chose not to."

He could.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist

[sasheemo]

C'è sempre una prima volta (there is a first time for everything)

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Butch!Reader

Tags: One-Shot, Established Relationship, Strap-Ons (Rr), Frist Strap-On Experience (Rr), Smut with Fluff, Sexual Stereotypes, Mommy Kink and Praise Kink if you squint until your eyes hurt

Summary: You and Melissa have been together for almost a year and she wants to try something new in bed, you’re just taken aback by her request.

Word Count: 2.4k

Read on AO3

A/N: this was originally posted on 13.05.24 (AO3 only), but since I'm putting together a Masterlist, I decided to post it here too so that I could include it. This was the first fic (or anything really) I ever wrote , also english is not my native language so sorry for any mistakes you might encounter. I added some Italian here and there in the fic and you will find the translations in brackets.

You had just finished giving your beautiful girlfriend her second orgasm of the night when she looked at your straight in the eyes asking if this time she could use the strap on you. You were both lying on your bed and she was still panting and high from her orgasm, but she seemed pretty serious about her question. 

Noticing your surprised - and kinda worried - expression, Melissa asked you what was wrong.

“No no, nothing! Just to be clear, I’m not saying no … it’s just that nobody ever asked me something like that. I honestly never thought somebody would even want to have sex with me with a strap”

“Ma cosa stai dicendo?! (What are you even saying?!) Why would you think that?” 

“Well, I mean, usually butches are seen as tops and I guess in my case that is what was always expected from me in a relationship. When I say that nobody ever asked something like that to me I mean it. I always felt like it was implied that if someone was supposed to use the strap in bed…that would be me. And nobody actually ever behaved differently, proved it wrong or cared enough to talk about it I guess…” you replied plainly but with a hint of hurt in your voice

Melissa looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. Was it anger? Was it disappointment? Was it sadness? “Hon, I never expected anything from you since the day we met. It’s not about other people’s expectations, what you think you owe them, it’s about what you want. As for me, I just want you. All of you without any stereotype, expectation or limitation. Fuck everyone else and their opinions!”. You look at her lovingly, knowing she is telling the truth as you never felt any kind of pressure from her, from day one you could always be your truest self with her. 

You prop your head forward looking for her lips, but you notice that she doesn’t move and lets you come to her. Once you’re an inch away you feel her sultry voice brushing your lips “Now, do you want me to fuck you senseless with that strap or not?”

You instantly switch your gaze from her mouth to her eyes just to find two piercing emerald pools looking straight into your soul. That look alone could have you coming in seconds. Every. Single. Time. 

“Yes please.” a whisper comes out of your mouth as you lower your gaze

“Good girl. Now, we are going to start slowly and if I hurt you, if you’re uncomfortable or if at any point you change your mind, just let me know, ok? Guardami (look at me) and tell me you understand.” 

You finally look back at her and your stomach just drops. There she is, fully naked lying next to you. This gorgeous, fierce, stern, dominating and yet so reassuring woman. “I do, I understand.”

On that note she gets up without saying a word, takes the strap that had been sitting next to you on the bed for the past minutes, and proceeds to put it on. Still lying in bed you look at her. You have to admit the sight was just mouth-watering. It wasn’t the strap, it was Melissa wearing it and knowing she was about to fuck your brains out with it.

Once she’s done she hops on the bed placing herself between your legs, before starting to caress your sides, chest and abdomen with her hands. You ease into her touch as you start to feel her nails scarping down your hips and upper thighs. You whimper as moans start escaping your lips.

“That’s it baby, rilassati (just relax) and let me make you feel good.” with that she pushes your legs a bit more apart, while tracing your inner thighs with her nails. 

You start to feel that familiar buildup in your lower abdomen and wetness pooling between your legs. 

“Mel, touch me please.” comes out of your lips almost as whisper

“I am touching you” her eyes snap up at you and a familiar electricity shots through your body when you recognize that look on your girlfriend’s face.

You’re enjoying this, but so is she. Probably even more than you right now. Teasing you and filling you up with anticipation. 

“Mmm, I-I need you inside of me Mel…”

“How badly?” She asks in the sultriest voice while her fingers run up your thighs and down your hips stopping before reaching where you need her the most. 

You cry out at her stopping and move your hips involuntarily. “So bad Mel, please, just ple-ahh!” Air gets sucked in your throat when you feel her fingers sliding through your folds. 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to change the sheets once I’m done with you. You’re dripping now e non ho nemmeno iniziato (and I barely even started).” 

You knew she was probably right but there was nothing you could do about it. She was just incredibly hot and you melted under her touch every single time. 

You didn’t even have time to form your thought about what she just said as you felt two fingers sliding into you.

“Oh my God Mel fuckkk” you screamed feeling how easily her fingers entered you. Melissa started moving them at an excruciatingly slow pace. As if you needed any time to adjust given how wet you were, she was just teasing. 

Seeing how desperate you were, starting to move your hips to get more friction, your girlfriend got the hint and picked up her pace. Wet sounds and moans filling the room as her pace fastened more and more. 

You were already getting close when you suddenly felt Melissa slipping her fingers out of you. Crying at the loss you shot her a pouty frustrated look, just to see her getting up on her knees and centering herself  between your legs.

You started to internally panic a little bit. You were aroused as fuck but this was still something new for you. As if reading your mind, your girlfriend looked at you. Her glance holding a warmth that would otherwise be out of character in a not so new situation. You gave her a silent nod and bit your bottom lip in anticipation, worry and arousal. 

Just a few seconds later you felt the tip of her cock sliding through your folds, stopping just above your clit. You moan, still biting your lip,  and your hips start moving again. 

She slides her cock up and down your pussy a few times to spread your wetness around and on her cock, before finally aligning herself to your entrance. You prop yourself up on your elbows just in time to see the tip disappear between your folds. 

“Am I hurting you baby?” Melissa checks in running her left hand across your thigh.

“No, please keep going Mel, I need more.” you cry out almost ashamed at your neediness. Melissa’s worried expression turning into a satisfied and mischievous one. 

In one swift motion she fills you up completely. You are surprised at how this is not hurting at all, you truly are that wet for her. Not that you doubted it. 

With her eyes fixated on yours, Melissa starts moving. Her hands are on your hips as she pulls out almost completely before sliding back in. She does that a few times before picking up her pace and setting a nice rythm, which is unfortunately not enough for you at the moment. 

“Fuck Mel, more! Fuck me harder baby please!” you cry out trying to reach for her thighs, your nails scraping the sheets. 

You whimper and moan at the sudden loss when a few seconds later you don’t feel her cock inside of you anymore. You look at her just in time to see drops of saliva dripping down her lips and feel them landing on your clit.

You feel every organ you have dropping, not just your stomach. “M-Melissa did you just-“

“Spit on your pretty cunt? Yes I did, why?”

“It-it’s just s-” that’s how little you manage to say between moans before she starts spreading it across your pussy with her cock. 

“It’s just so what baby?” She’s looking at you with a lustful grin and deep dark eyes. She bites her bottom lip waiting for your answer while she keeps sliding her cock over your wet pussy. 

“It’s just so hot.” you moan starting to move your hips again . “Please Mel, fuck me.” you’re basically crying out now and her eyes turn even darker. 

Without you even realizing, she suddenly slams her cock back into you, full lenght sliding in even more easily than before. She starts pounding you at a deliciously atrocious rythm. The sound of her hips colliding with your inner thighs fills the room and makes you both wetter. 

“You like feeling me deep inside you, filling you up? Mh?” her voice cuts through your bliss and you just close your eyes to try and not come on the spot. 

“Mmm fuck … fuck … yes! Yes I do, please don’t stop!” 

“I want you to look at me, open your eyes. Now.” The emphasis she puts on that last word made you quiver and you instantly opened your eyes. 

You couldn’t avoid looking down at where her cock was disappearing inside of you and coming out glistening, just to be slammed back in. Again and again. 

The rythm she was keeping, the sounds echoing through the room, her beautiful boobs bouncing at her every movement and her eyes never leaving yours. Everything was building up inside of you and you felt so close. 

Your moans and your breathing were frantic now. One hand gripping the sheets and the other gripping the strap’s leather belt across one of Melissa’s hips. 

She knew you were close as she bent forward to kiss you hard. It was a very sloppy kiss, tongues swirling in between moans and pantings. She placed her hands on both sides of your head with her perfectly sharp white nails gripping the sheets. You scratched down her back with both hands making her arch and hit a spot inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

She was looking down at you, red curls falling all around you as you placed both your hands on her hips gripping the leather harness so tight “I-I think … I’m going to.. c-come” you cried out looking at her, pleading with your eyes.

Her hips were on autopilot, pounding into you with an animalistic rythm. “Ask nicely bimba (baby girl).” she whispered with a smirk plastered on her lips.

At this point you just couldn’t talk anymore. You felt so full and intoxicated by everything she was doing to you. You knew you couldn’t come without her permission though. So you took one last glance at her cock going in and out of you so quickly “Mel please PLEASE let come on you cock, please I can’t take it anymore!” was the pathetic cry that managed to escape your lips. 

She smiles down at you before swinging her hair to one side with a swift motion of her head, just a second before you feel her right arm slipping between your bodies. Her hand reaches  your clit while she starts thrusting into you even harder. You weren’t excepting that, you didn’t think for one split second her rythm could actually increase even more than it had. 

Her fingers start drawing fast circles on your clit and your legs start to shake. “Come for mama pretty girl.” with that permission you just moan loudly and let go. You see black and feel your pussy clenching around Melissa’s cock as one of the most powerful orgasms you ever experienced rushes through you. 

Yet she doesn’t stop. She gradually reduced her thrusting rythm to accompany you down your high. Not stopping even when you reopen your eyes, flustered and panting. Now going deadly slow, she starts feather kissing your face before connecting your lips in a long passionate kiss. Her movements now come to a stop but you both moan loudly into the kiss as her cock is still inside of you. 

“I’m going to pull out now, please relax for me baby, you did so good.” She says before giving you a kiss on the cheek, lifting herself up and pulling her cock out of you. She removes the harness and places everything at the end of the bed before coming to lie down next to you. 

She perks up on her left elbow and starts tracing figures on your abdomen with her right hand. Sharp nails causing you to have goosebumps all over. You turn to place your left hand behind her neck, pulling her into a loving kiss. You scarpe the back of her head, slightly pulling on messy red curls, while you kiss her passionately hoping all the love you feel for her will be felt through that kiss. 

She kisses you back with the same intensity, making you feel all the love in this world. You part after a while because you smiled into the kiss and Melissa is now looking at you with an amused and puzzled expression. So you also perk up on your elbow, to be directly in front of her and look her straight in the eyes. 

“I never thought I’d let anyone have me like that, let alone enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you for wanting to try this with me. You’re the only person I’ve ever trusted enough or wanted to try this with.” 

Taken aback by your words, her mouth hangs slightly open for a few seconds. Her eyes light up with tenderness and emotions most people wouldn’t imagine Melissa capable of showing. 

“Thank you for trusting me with this and for allowing me to see you like that. You’re incredibly beautiful amore mio (my love).” Melissa says before closing the few inches separating your mouths. And in that kiss you both feel how special your love is. 

You stay a bit like that, lying naked with your lips on her forehead and her face resting on your chest. Bodies intertwined as you slowly drift into sleep grateful for the amazing girlfriend life put on your path. 

[httpknjoon]

suspects guilty | ksj

plot | the a-listers join in a tiktok trend (ft. more the a-listers lores).

word count | -

genres | humor, fluff, domestic au

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

main masterlist | the a-listers: confidential masterlist

Shot in the spacious backyard of their Massachusetts home, YN and Jin finally shoot their very first TikTok video. Of course, it was YN who asked the other to do it since she found the videos she watched hilarious. So, some time between breakfast and afternoon, the couple walked out to their quiet backyard to do it. All while their twins have their nap.

"So, I'll describe you with something mean and you'll do the same thing?" Jin asked, stretching his right arm over his chest.

You nod, "Yeah, we'll basically roast each other. But we'll start with the phrase: The suspect is. You know, like when cops look for their suspects."

"Okay, bub. I'm ready," he replied, this time, rolling his shoulders.

Your eyebrow raised while watching him warm up his body. A routine he usually does before working out.

"Why are you acting like you're about to run a marathon?" you scoffed.

The first one to be shown in the camera is Jin, in his favorite green hoodie, running while your voice can be heard in the background.

"Suspect claims to be a responsible drinker but posted his personal cellphone number online when he was drunk." Giggles were in between your words when you said that.

Jin stopped, "That was years ago! It was one time."

You laughed as he defended himself, remembering the time you witnessed Jin's manager stressed out the morning after Jin shared his phone number through Instagram Stories while Jin was guiltily nursing his hangover. It was around the time you two were doing press junkets for your second movie.

"Suspect had a very public crush over a co-worker when she was fourteen."

Jin grinned as you stopped from jogging. Your jaw dropped while the cringy memories of your past came running back to you.

"Oh my god! Stop bringing that up. It's embarrassing."

Everyone knew that you loved musicals, especially the movie Hairspray with Zac Efron in it. So when you were younger, you were never shy about expressing your adoration for the actor, mentioning him in interviews in teen magazines and television talk shows a handful of times. He was kind enough to surprise you one time during your appearance in Ellen. You were telling a behind-the-scenes story to the host and audience when Zac quietly walked behind you and sat next to you. Everyone laughed at your flushed reaction when you realized who was sitting beside you. Your hands were even shaking when he introduced himself to you. Up until now, you still see GIFs and memes of your reaction online being used in various contexts.

Before moving to the next clip, your husband was heard whispering under his breath, "It's cute."

"Suspect thinks he is slick every time he's shy. His red ears always give it away!"

Jin stopped and laughed at that, so hard that his hands are on his knees. You didn't stop, zooming the camera to his ears that are slowly turning crimson red.

"See! See!"

"Suspect claims to be a writer but has three thousand unfinished drafts in her computer!"

You stopped in your tracks and slowly looked back at the camera. Staring, you crossed your arms while acting really offended by that. Jin laughed at your dramatic reaction.

"That was personal, Jinnie! How could you say that?" you shook your head, feigning disappointment. "Writer's block is a worldwide issue. You know, five out of five writers get affected by it. It's a real problem."

"Suspect acts so innocent but likes to be called---"

"No! No! No!"

Jin stopped you before you could even finish your sentence. His tone seemed panicked. The camera was later focused on the ground while you two were heard whispering.

"We cannot share that online, bubba. It would generate articles."

"It's not like it's a bad kin---"

It was cut off to the next clip.

"Suspect called me the wrong name during our first and second date."

This time, it's your turn to laugh so hard that you fall on your knees on the grass. Jin was also laughing after mentioning that time.

"It was two different names!" he added, making you laugh even more.

To be fair, the names were his characters' names in two different projects he worked on. One is for his Netflix series and the other was his character's name in your second movie together. It was an honest mistake by you since you were really tired at both times it happened. Jin too. You two would just sneak in your first few dates in between your tight schedules.

"The suspect cannot tell his children apart."

Your husband was clearly taken aback by that, maybe dramatically offended. Knowing it was true, he didn't even deny it.

"That was only a few times--"

"Specifically, nine times!" you counted, trying not to laugh.

His eyebrows raised as he crossed his arms, "It was those days when they wore the same matching clothes."

"One is a boy and a girl, Jin," you told him, reminding him that your twins wear different colors of the same type of clothes.

"They are identical twins, bubba. You know that I have bad facial recognition!" he whined like a kid while you laughed.

"Suspect ghosted everyone for almost two years."

Although you stopped jogging, you just put your wrists together like you are surrendering, willing to be handcuffed. You walked back to him as you spoke,

"The suspect is guilty. She said she regrets nothing over it. She is happy with the choices she made."

Jin smiled upon hearing that. He remembered you two talking about your plans to have a hiatus in the middle of your piling projects. It was after you learned you were pregnant. As soon as you made sure that you indeed were, you immediately thought about taking a break since you already had your priorities straight. It was not just a decision you made in the spur of the moment. It was something you promised to do before you even met Jin.

As someone who grew up in a complicated family, you wanted different things when starting your own. You were willing to literally drop everything, leaving movie projects that you were dreaming of working on.

Jin wanted to do the same thing, so he could be with you. But you encouraged him to just finish his remaining commitments at the time. He was in a more tangled situation since he already started filming for those projects and couldn't afford to stress everyone with a sudden leave.

"Oh, bubba. I love you." he whispered.

He was about to lean in to give you a kiss. But you spoke,

"I love you too, si--"

"No!"

You laughed as he walked back to your house, enjoying his flushed reaction over your jokes.

note | unedited. not a comeback. this is just a random blurb in my head. sadly, I haven't written anything for months now. i feel bad leaving a lot of my works here on a cliffhanger but idk when will I update again. but thank u so much for reading and being here :)) hope ur having a great day.

THE A-LISTERS: CONFIDENTIAL TAGLIST

@xiumo @joonsbvtch @firesighgirl @qualityjoonie @lojocas @txtlyn @yoontaethings @zwiehe

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

[bluedalahorse]

Sara poll on hobbies and special interests

Inspired by a conversation with @sadhappylady

One of the more tragic things about season 3 for me is the way Sara burns out on her passion for horses. Areas of special interest and/or hyperfixations are something that matters so much to AuDHD people like Sara.

In the first season we see how much Sara lights up around Rousseau, and how special that bond is. By the second season she’s fighting to keep him close by, or at least make sure he goes to a nice family. She melts down when he’s sold. But by season 3… so much of that light is gone, and it makes all the post-s2 grief so much heavier. It’s not just that she’s lost an interest; it feels (to me as a viewer) like a piece of her whole self has been severed away.

I see some post-canon speculation that suggests Sara will get back into working with horses one day—it’s still a job she has in post-canon fics, for instance. For me, personally, these speculations can feel a little surprising and abrupt if not accompanied by some explanation of how Sara finds her way back to horses, and how interacting with horses looks different for her since she left Hillerska. Sometimes these speculations can even feel motivated by a desire to have Sara go back to her “safe” early season 1 self. But Sara has had so much growth and evolution since season 1, and her interests are part of that. Even if she finds her way back to horses post-canon, why would it look exactly the same?

One thing I also wonder about is what hobbies Sara might pursue next, and what kinds of things could potentially become new special interests. We got all of eighteen episodes with Sara during a small slice of her teenage years. But there’s a whole world out there and a whole future ahead of her, and there could be more things she is interested in.

Anyway, I’ve created a poll about future hobbies for Sara.

Regardless of what you pick, feel free to reblog for reach and put your thoughts in the tags. I put pretty broad categories here so I’d love to hear people’s more specific headcanons.

Have a lovely Tuesday!

[robolvrr]

attention-seeker ミ⁠●﹏

transformers reactions to human modifications. (tattoos, piercings, hair-dye.) headcanons!

optimus prime, bumblebee, prowl. tfa.

sfw / suggestive under cut.

may do more of them, i love this show to death.

optimus prime

"you do this stuff... for fun? huh."

try as he might, he does not understand the point much.

don't get me wrong, i see animated optimus to be the closest to a mid-twenties rascal as you can get. modifications aren't unheard of for bots. he's not a nun.

however ...

he sees humans as still pretty fragile. so the idea that you like going and having needles shoved into your flesh and jammed through your muscle isn't something he can wrap his helm around at first.

primus forbid you have lots.

imagine him trying to process you explaining that yes, your entire back is covered in ink and you're planning on about five different piercings in the next year.

"so you. you plan on getting two on your back. just because?"

"that's the plan, big guy."

poor mech is lost. though he does enjoy learning more about humanity when he isn't stressing too much about saving it.. so expect questions.

when you suggest getting one of the autobot emblem, his circuits nearly fry.

prowl

"so, what's the significance?"

i see prowl not writing off the behavior as weird and instead digging for why you pursued this journey.

yes, he sees your tattoo and piercing collection as a journey, because that's what it is, isn't it? years of work and pain to adorn your body to your liking.

he knows that humans are bundled with nerves. there's respect earned. he finds humans to be eerily resilient.

will ask you the meaning of each and every one. piercings less so.

"what does this bird represent?"

"mm.. my sense of liberty."

"a visual representation of the wish to stretch to new horizons. how fascinating. being small in a vast universe with the urge to still explore."

"i also just like hummingbirds."

"mm. i see."

will get onto you once he finds out about the "makeshift" work. finds the mistakes or even forgettable craftsmanship to make you endearing.

bumblebee

"whoa! sick paintjob, human!"

he LOVES human culture. and you guys can just... change your appearance? count him impressed!

you had dyed your hair to a nice golden yellow to match his frame and he almost jammed his intake shut.

"you can just. do that?!? b-but your helm used to be-"

"hair, bee."

"right, right. it wasn't always that color though!!!"

he thinks it's so cool. real dork about it. totally buzzed out once you spoke about the chemistry that it went to the process though.

he thinks piercings are cute. after all the fusion of metal and organic is kiiind of taboo. you pull it off great.

tattoos make him beg ratchet to let him upgrade his paint. poor old mech is grumpy and over bumble whining him to just let him "get some flames and that's it."

you draw a lot of inspiration from him. will gladly brainstorm your next big change and puff his chassis out like a lil peacock knowing you're willing to get something permanent done in his designation.

nsfw.

optimus prime

"you look like a painting. primus above, you're gorgeous..."

optimus prime enjoys tracing your tats. he kisses the patterns and images as if the pain of the needle remains, glossa licking along thick and thin ink with shuttered optics.

he likes to see goosebumps trail after. kind of a weird fetish (?) but he mostly enjoys how reactive you are and how your inkwork ripples with the movement.

when he finds out your piercings can make you sensitive ...

well, good luck.

optimus at his spark of sparks is such a tease. when you continue to surprise him, it's nice to be in control of that mutual fascination for once.

"you enjoy when i tug.. these?"

nipple piercings.

expect his glossa. he takes special care to even lubricate each of his digits just to toy with your sore nipples.

prowl

"that's it. fall apart for me. just like art..."

prowl is observant. so when you let it slip that you've been holding back on some of what's on your body...

you're on his berth and naked. his optics are hidden behind his sharp visor.

"holding back on me? that's a shame. i thought you knew better than to do that."

is he angry? hardly! but his processor is about to work overtime when you stammer just why you hadn't gone into depth.

genital piercings.

he doesn't say anything for a long time. doesn't ask the millions of questions bombarding his thoughts. his servos do that speaking before he can.

let's just say you start to understand why he deals with tedious and delicate situations. those hands are built for... meticulous attention.

bites. all the areas with piercings. focuses carefully damn near to the square inch of sensitive flesh where it drives you wild.

tattoos? he loves to scrape his digits down em.

loves to doll you up in lingerie that accentuates everything you hide. crotchless, cut-outs exposing yourself until he can't see where the inkwork begins and ends.

robolvrr 2024.

[oodlyenough]

arcane s2 act 1

alright might as well collect my thoughts for posterity

first and foremost: obviously the triumphant cackle i was doing the entire hexcore scene. huge W for me, personally. did it always feel like the most logical and narratively satisfying extension from s1? sure. do i trust television to do the most narratively satisfying thing? no. especially not after fandom spent years of the hiatus trying to convince me otherwise

really all the jayvik scenes were, more or less, exactly what i expected/wanted and very satisfying lmaooo. i knew jayce wouldn't give a fuck about the shimmer or unethical experiments. i win!

other stuff i liked:

in the hiatus i've now seen all of yellowjackets and it has made me fonder of ella purnell and by extension jinx, lol. i love sevika and i think their grudging alliance in the wake of silco's death is a fun direction. jinx finding a random dumpster baby and adopting them immediately, silco would be so proud lmfao

i love caitlyn's dictator arc. i have to be honest i found her disney princess schtick in s1 pretty boring, so this is finally something more flawed and dynamic for me to invest in. yes girl get worse

ambessa rules. i was a little rolling my eyes at the "wow she was pulling the strings all along" reveal, bc it was so obvious and i was sort of hoping they'd do something more interesting with her. but this show has never been subtle. either way it still seems ambessa believes she's protecting mel? so i AM curious about how that plays out

i don't know shit about the league lore around the black rose stuff and don't want to <3 knowing league lore has never improved my arcane experience. but those sequences were very cool and took me by surprise. some good body horror with elora. good luck in the nightmare labyrinth mel!

stuff i liked less:

i think the stylized music video sequences are being a little overused. maybe s1 did them as frequently and I forget? anyhow, the police brutality one really worked for me, because it's the kind of info that def needs to be montaged, and the style was cool and engaging. cassandra's funeral ... i understand why they did it but i didn't like the regular arcane models mixed with the charcoal bgs, i found it distracted me from what was meant to be the emotion of the moment. and the jinx montage i found kind of mid.

i do think the pacing feels as breakneck as ever, to its detriment. i said above the jayvik stuff all played out basically as i wanted, which is more-or-less true, but viktor just be like I Have To Go Now was a bit abrupt. i can excuse a lot of that on the basis that i don't think viktor is really himself anymore because of the hexcore -- very flat emotionally, etc. and i assume we'll see them butt heads again later in the season. but still, the hextech weapons, the nonconsensual hexcoring, etc, would've expected something a little more explosive lol

plus, then we shift from that scene to the Furby Comedy Hour and jayce and heimerdinger having like a nonreaction to each other despite how acrimoniously they parted or how emotionally charged jayce must be sleeping next to viktor's empty cocoon etc... felt whiplash-y to me. but i hate heimerdinger and ekko teaming up to begin with lmao (and ofc ekko directs his frustrations with piltover to jayce, and not the 300 year president furby he has no beef with for some reason)

this extends to vi's decision to pick up the badge, etc. stuff just happens really quick and the fact that the passage of time in the show isn't very clear doesn't really help. i can understand why riot didn't want to spend two decades making five seasons of this show, but 2 seasons will probably feel too short imo.

[mercurymacaroons]

arrives 15 min late with a latte

......sup

[itspileofgoodthings]

one big thing I’ve learned by 29 is that the Plan, the God’s Plan of it all I mean, is bigger than me and not just bigger than me but also bigger than my understanding of narrative threads and their limitations. And it’s bigger even than just a simple paradox, turning-on-their-head thing way of being bigger. It’s just so vast. And there is so much room for surprise and possibility and hope in that reality.

[rainintheevening]

Not Dead

(A Saving Grant Ward AU)

"Come on, Hill." Grant's face hurts, and he's tired. "Why'd you pull me out of the field? I mean, it wasn't for a history lesson."

Maria Hill looks away for a moment, takes a deeper breath than maybe necessary, says quietly, "You'll have to ask Coulson."

Grant stiffens, the cold finger of her words tracing still-tender scars, and he thins his lips, answers sharp. "Phil Coulson is dead."

Her gaze drops, and so does his stomach. A breath, as if to speak, before she sighs, shakes her head.

"Actually, no."

It isn't Maria who speaks, no, it's a voice he knows, the voice of his conscience and his comfort, a voice he's not supposed to be hearing, and he's on his feet before his training takes hold, keeps him from backing away.

There's a ghost in this room, stepping out of the shadows, Coulson looking him in the eye.

"I'm... not dead."

For a moment the world turns upside down, he can't breathe, his vision greys... Before he catches himself, turns away sharply. "Don't," and no matter how dead he tries to keep his voice, he hears the tremor. "Don't do this to me."

Maria avoids his gaze, crosses her arms over her chest, glares at the man who can't be Coulson. "Coulson! You were supposed to let me ease him into it."

Coulson sighs, like he used to sigh when he'd forgotten to buy the right kind of hot sauce on wing night, and was about to go get the keys and drive to the store right then, because Grant wouldn't eat his wings without it. An apology. "Sorry, I just couldn't wait to see you again. Also I think there's a bulb out back there. I wasn't trying to be that dramatic."

Grant snorts, he can't help shaking his head as he looks back at the man whose response to finding out an angry customer had hit Grant over the head with her purse was show up at her house and tell her she'd go to jail if she ever shopped at Walmart again. "Even got someone who talks like him," he says, anger starting to smolder in his gut. He was done, done his grieving, he'd sworn to live and look forward, to honour his dad's Coulson's legacy.

Phil is worried. He's been worrying over how to tell Grant since... Tahiti, he thinks, but, no, it had been too peaceful there to be worrying. So, at least since Fury had lifted the lockdown on him.

He remembers the day Lady had been killed by a car, the limp body in Grant's arms, and how Grant had screamed for him, called him 'dad' for the first time.

"Try to go easy on him," Maria had said.

He'd raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

She'd stopped in the hallway, frowned at him. "Coulson, he had to bury you. The only person he cares about, and he had to bury you. He took two weeks' vacation after the funeral."

Phil had frowned then too. "He took time off?"

"Yes! Two. Weeks. Disappeared, off the radar. No one knows where he went, or what he was doing. He's never said."

So yes, Phil's worried, watching the tense line of Grant's shoulders, the way his eyes say he doesn't believe yet, and he's getting angry about it.

"Grant," he says, and the other man startles. "I'm sorry. But it is me. No tricks, no lies."

Phil moves forward slowly, as if trying not to frighten a skittish animal. Grant says nothing, watching him with those burning eyes, until he reaches out, grips Grant's upper arm gently but firmly. The other man flinches, hard enough to make Phil's hand slide down to his elbow, but just as quickly he's bringing his own hand up to grab Phil's sleeve. His grip is fierce.

"See?" Phil says, trying to smile. "Real."

"You're dead," Grant says, firm. He can feel the warmth in the hand on his arm, pain gathering in his throat. "You died." And his voice cracks.

He wants to believe, he is believing.

"I was. I did. For seven minutes." Tiny uncomfortable shrug. "Didn't stick, I'm afraid."

Grant blinks in the face of a tombstone (PHILIP J COULSON) chiseled with words he'd agonized over, how to sum up the man who had saved him long before saving the world (A HERO GOING HOME). He'd run his fingers over sharp-edged epitaph (PSALM 91:4), glad when it cut, when cold stone drew warm blood.

He blinks again, stares into worried hazel eyes, grips flesh and bone, and oh...

"It's been seven months!" Anger, fresh pain erupting through the layers of cooled magma. "What the hell, Dad?!" He rips away, stalks across the room, turns back to glare. "You couldn't be bothered to call, to tell me?! In seven months? I thought– I thought I meant something to you!"

"Grant, you do, I swear." Guilt settles heavy on Phil's heart as he steps forward, reaching. "Fury had me on lockdown, and then you were in the field, and I didn't want to do this until I knew we'd have time."

"I buried you!"

Maria was right, Phil thinks. Grant stalks back toward him.

"And you wanna know what I did after? I put a gun in my mouth, because of you!"

Grant's in his face now, and Phil's stomach drops like he's just been pushed out of a plane.

"You know that place where we used to go fishing? That creek? Yeah, that's where I went. And I put a gun to my head. Because I couldn't– I couldn't– I didn't want to live without–"

There are tears in his eyes now, dampening the fire, and Phil reaches up, lays hand gentle on muscled shoulder.

"But you did," he says softly. "You did live. I'm proud of you, son." He puts special weight on the last word, deliberate. "And now we get another chance. I doubt I can make it up to you, but I want to be here for you. Will you let me at least have that?"

Grant's always been tall, chin up, spit blood, graceful in a cold sort of way. Phil thinks Rose is the only other who has seen that guard truly come down. It's falling now, Grant's head dropping to hide welling emotion, shoulders slumping under Phil's hands, and then it's as if Grant himself is falling, falling and reaching, but he's already caught, and Phil pulls him in, holds him tight as he crumbles.

Grant's grip on him is painfully fierce, but he takes it, he'll take anything for this man he'd watched grow up, from a messed up kid, to a hopeful young agent, to one of SHIELD's best.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm here."

Tall man, bent and bowed into his dad's embrace, Grant hides his face against Coulson's neck and sobs.

Maria slips out, leans back against the door, knuckles a few tears out of her eyes. She still thinks Coulson is making a mistake, selecting someone he's so close to for his new team; he's always avoided working with Grant for that reason. But any man would be changed by facing death, she figures. Not to mention facing things he didn't even remember. A wince at the thought of Grant finding out what had been done. Well, as long as all went according to plan, neither of them ever would.

Grant doesn't cry for long; that's never been his way. He lifts his head, eases back, takes Phil's offered handkerchief.

"You still carry these?" he asks hoarsely, blows his nose.

"What do you think I mop the blood up with?"

The same pointed humor, the way they always joked about close calls, and Grant's lungs feel like they have more room in his chest. He hands the crumpled cloth back, smirks at Coulson's little nose wrinkle. "And that's what saved you."

Coulson chuckles, the air in the room lifts. Grant's still unsteady, still taking it in. But he believes now.

"So how much time have we got?" he asks, sticks his hands in his pockets.

"Plenty." Phil smiles up at him, sun coming out to warm him again at last. "I'm putting together a long-term team, and Fury, well, he owes me plenty. So I get to pick anyone I want."

"Except her." Grant jerks his head toward the door, and he's grinning like an idiot, but he can't help it. On a team with Coulson? For the foreseeable future? Oh, he is so ready.

"Anyone I outrank," Phil corrects himself, eyes laughing back. "You'll be getting a promotion to Level Seven—already have actually since you know about me."

"I'm in."

A raised eyebrow, and Grant tries to settle, temper the excitement in his tone. He's supposed to be cool, after all. "Sure. Count me in. And don't worry," he adds, "I'll make sure not to call you 'dad' in front of the team. Don't want to ruin that cold-hearted reputation."

A full on chuckle from Coulson, and Grant can't help it, he steps back in for one more hug, to feel the solid flesh and bone and beating heart against him.

"Yes, that reputation," Coulson mutters, hugging him back.

When they emerge, all banter and business, Maria lets herself relax. Maybe some things can be normal again.

[daily-whistlepaw]

daily whistlebreeze until spo becomes PoV day 1398

I like seeing how different I can make gray cats by throwing Whis at them; anyways, Spotfur's been on my mind tonight

[aroacettorney]

tbh i wish aup had more reps for characters who achieve greatness purely through hard work and effort. the emphasis on genius/being special is mayhaps way too much to the point that it feels kinda damn depressing for those who aint born as one.

[oozeandgoo-art]

everyone is sooo in love with vakori on account of le is so cool and smart and deeply pragmatic and is also completely batshit insane