#the voice acting though my god that man was about to fuck that microphone and i mean that with the most respect to the talent there

[emmavakarian-theirin]

"how do you always do that?" "do what?" "break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom"

[lolibles]

playing video games with them| anemo boys <3

characters: kazuha, xiao and venti

very fluffy, a little suggestive in kazuha’s part, slight slight angst for xiao, crack

synopsis: what games you play with them, how they act with you!

not proofread please don’t sue me this is also very random :)

kazuha

playing stardew valley and animal crossing with kazuha is my life goal that will never be fulfilled please cry with me. anyway, just imagine cuddling on the sofa under a thick blanket on a cold rainy day with cups of hot chocolate or tea whilst playing stardew valley. the both of you work through the first year slowly as little farmers doing cute little farm things. also if you ever chose to get into a relationship with any of the npcs in the game kazuha will not be happy, he’d definitely not talk to that particular npc because he is now kazuha’s “sworn enemy”. he will also be a pouty baby, so please apologise and give him kisses. and if you REALLY want to make it up to him, ask him to marry you in animal crossing and this man will be on his knees in a split second. he’d prepare EVERYTHING, from the venue, the guests, he’d even attempt to design his own tux for his little character to wear. and you guys would have such an adorable animal crossing wedding. also because kissing in game is not enough, he’d probably kiss you irl when the wedding officiant says you may now kiss the xx. honestly i see kazuha even going out spontaneously to buy you a promise ring with a little maple leaf engraved in it for you. yes it was an animal crossing wedding, but it was a wedding non the less. playing minecraft with kazuha please, its so fucking wholesome- he’s so good at the game and he doesn’t even try. he knows all the tricks and he’s so sexy with redstone you cant convince me otherwise. he’s also an amazing builder pls wtf. AND OH MY GOD, imagine playing the sims4 with kazuha, he’d literally cry inside. you both would sit next to each other in front of the computer screen for hours just designing your characters. and you would have a little cat too. everytime kazuha’s character flirted with yours, he will definitely shoot you one of his romantic haikus. also the first time your characters woohoo’ed, he most likely would have teased you and said “its unfair that only they get to woohoo you know.” anyway i think playing wholesome games with kazuha is 10 bells out of 10 bells.

xiao

now this one is kinda scary. i think its pretty obvious that xiao plays shooter games honestly. or anything that has to do with fighting. it wasn’t unusual to hear him literally SCREAM randomly throughout the day because of a game. if you ever play shooter games with this aggressive boy, please proceed with caution. i honestly feel like he would be so caught up in the heat of the moment he’d actually forget he was playing with you. so if he ends up getting angry, please bare with him- he honestly doesn’t mean to call you bad, or useless, or trash… I SWEAR. xiao will immediately regret his words and he’d feel so bad. especially after he notices how your mood just instantly dies. he’d feel so bad, even after he apologised and you forgave him, he can’t accept the fact that he just called you- the love of his life something so vulgar. and since he’s so awkward and bad with people he’d literally feel like crying on the spot. he wouldn’t know what to do to make it up to you. the next few days, xiao was so cautious around you- even if you didn’t think much about the incident anymore. in the end even xiao was unable to stay away from you for too long, and he’d ask you to watch him play games instead- which you happily agreed to. he loves it when you straddle him while he sits in his chair while gaming though he’d never admit it. but whenever you felt him get tense, all you had to do was give him a kiss and you just knew he’d calm down. you literally work magic on him. also occasionally you’d hear some idiots in his party talking shit about him, you wouldn’t think twice before speaking into the microphone and start standing up for him, and your grip around his waist would definitely tighten a lot more. “if i ever hear you talking shit about MY boyfriend one more time, i will literally come in game and beat the absolute fuck out of you.” yassss girlboss! xiao’s heart would explode and his face would be beat red, he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. also he thinks your so sexy standing up for him like that, please don’t tease him about it. i rate him a “please dont scold me im trying my best” out of “FUCK YOU SUCKKKKKK”

venti

oh my god, horror games. he hates them but he can’t stop. playing phasmophobia with him would be incredibly fun, but he would make you do all the work literally. he’d be too scared to do anything- and if you ever got caught with the ghost you’d be stupid to think he’d try to save you. he would be the first one out the door and running away. he’s also so loud, your honestly more likely to get jump scared by his screaming than the actual game. other than that i think venti likes to play the sims4 too, except he’s so chaotic about it. he wants to do challenges and he also wants to make like 10 babies with you even if your sims can’t afford them- cries when they are taken away. has all the packs and just enjoys fucking around with everything- also makes bets with you, like whether your baby is going to be a boy or girl, and if you lose you owe him a kiss or he asks you to do something for him. when he plays with you, he needs to be touching your body at all times. he says it makes him feel safe, and warm. so you just let him. venti also wants to play karaoke games with you, he loves your voice so much- whether you can sing or not he loves it. but he will tease you if you cant. he loves duetting with you, to him it’s something very intimate and close to home. he wants to hold your hand and give them a squeeze as an encouragement when you sing with him. and yes you guys probably have played just dance a few times, but venti gets incredibly tired after one round- so please bare with his annoying ass. i think venti is a solid 8 red bulls out of “ive already drank 15”

guys i was supposed to include aether but his part disappeared and i- </3 i’ll have to rewrite and upload it in a second part!! heh sorry for being gone for so long, anyway i have my presentations tomorrow, a test on thursday and another presentation on friday ;-; wish me luck! ill be back writing in a few days while i suffer rn sghshshsh

also @truegaypotat my love here is some xiao content <3

[sugarylawliet]

In Death Note, you know the part where the L placed spy cams everywhere within Yagami’s house?

What if Light and his girlfriend start doing the deeds to look like normal hormones teens?

YES OMG i’ve actually thought of this before so i’m so glad someone requested it LMFAO

> warnings: swearing, smut, degradation, sir kink, kind of exhibition??

  Light tossed his backpack onto his bed, loosening his red tie before collapsing onto the bed himself, letting his exhaustion express itself in the most natural way he thought possible. It’s hard to act natural when you’re being watched; you almost forget every aspect of your daily routine, putting excessive thought into typically mindless tasks like walking around your house or laying on your bed to the point of obviousness. 

“Light, wanna play video games?” Ryuk asked, standing before the boy.

Light fell back onto his bed, placing his hands behind his shoulders with a deep sigh. Closing his eyes, he prepared for the performance he’d have to put on. How could he ignore Ryuk without giving off reactions to the shinigami’s words, tilts of the head or instinctive hums of agreement that could incriminate himself in a matter of seconds.

“You listening? Hello?” 

Light only ignored him, grabbing a long beige coat from the closet before heading outside, Ryuk following close behind.

“Hey, Light, what’s with the brushing off? I’m starting to get annoyed.”

He popped his collar and rolled up his sleeves, checking meticulously for any bits of wire or chips of plastic that could be audio bugging him. 

“Light! Hey!” Ryuk wined.

“There might be secret hidden cameras around the house,” The brunette broke the silence, his voice in a slightly raspy lowered tone, almost a whisper, “Or microphones, probably both.” He explained, going on to detail his clever methods of finding out if someone had been in his room- or if someone had opened his door, at least.

“Let’s go on a camera hunt! You got a plan after that?” Ryuk asks.

“Simple, make it seem like I have no idea the cameras are even there, and that I’m just a normal teenager. I’ll probably need some excuse for why I have that paper and lead in my door, they’ll want to know why I don’t want anyone in my room, what I’m hiding, and if the footage reveals I’m hiding absolutely nothing, that’ll look even more suspicious. Every teenager has secrets.”

“So what’ll you do?”

“You’ll see.”

                               _______________________________

“This feels objectifying, Yagami.” 

You walk down the street leading to your boyfriend’s house, accompanied by the man himself as he explains his, quite frankly, pervy plan.

“Objectifying? We have sex all the time, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but nobody plans out when they’re gonna fuck. It’s just weird.”

“Hey,” Light stops walking, facing towards you as he gently lifts your chin with his thumb and index finger. The feeling made you melt, and he knew that very well. The way Light held your face and looked at you like you were the only thing on earth felt exhilarating, he could tell you anything in that position and you’d believe it. And that’s just what he does, constantly. “This is not an option, this isn’t personal business. This is about Kira. This is going to throw suspicion off me, okay? Do it. For me.”

You sighed deeply. He had you the moment he held your chin like that. “And there won’t be any explicit footage of us? There won’t be a camera like, right there?”

“I don’t know where all the cameras are, but there aren’t many like that in my room at all, we’ll be safe.” He lied, a practice that came so easily to him he no longer viewed it as morally wrong. It was just something he did, like going to school and eating dinner or doing homework, he also lied.

“Okay.” You agreed with a smile, prompting him to release his grasp on you and continue the walk home.

“I didn’t realize he went through such great lengths...might there be something in his room that he doesn’t want anyone to see?” Soichiro Yagami remarked, watching Light fiddle with the thin strip of paper in the doorway and the piece of lead in the hinges as you stood patiently behind him.

“Well, considering he’s 17, it isn’t all that unusual. I’ve done it myself, for no reason at all.” L responds, “I am a bit curious, though, as to what he’s hiding so admently.”

You enter Light’s bedroom with him, shutting the door behind you as you watch him toss his bag down besides his bed. 

“Y/N, are you scared of me?” He turns to face you.

“Hm? Why would I be.”

“L, the best detective in the world, thinks I’m Kira when I’m not.”

Oh, Light.

“He makes me out to be some kind of monster,” He continues, “I’m worried you’ll start to believe him.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Huh?”

Before you could register his comment, Light lunges for you, tossing you onto his bed before tickling your stomach and sides.

‘L-Light! St-stop! Please!” You cried between giggles.

“Make me.”

Understanding, you connect your lips to his, causing his hands to rub up and down where he previously tickled you. You moaned into the kiss as Light pushed harder into it, his desperation showing. You wished he would take his time, but you knew the real reason you were here. His hands slid down to your lower half, pushing his hand inside your pants and rubbing your clit through your panties. You gasped, hand reaching up to grab his wrist reflexively. He let out a chuckle. 

Impatiently, he stood up straight, unbuttoning your pants before slipping them completely off along with your panties, leaving you in only your t-shirt on his bed.

“I figured,” L sighed, “You can close your eyes if you’d like, Yagami-san, but I’m afraid I need you here for legal purposes.”

Light crouched down onto the floor, lifting your legs to lay bent on his shoulders. Teasingly, he licked a line down your slit, earning a gasp from you. He straightened himself out again, moving towards your face. “L is watching,” He whispered, his hot breath on your ear, “Put on a show.” He smirked.

Watching? Had Light lied?

Light lowered himself back down to push his tongue inside you. His tongue wriggled around, exploring your walls with lust.

“Oh, Light” You moaned, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. You knew L, you knew the whole task force for that matter. Your face flushed with embarrassment imagining any of them reviewing this footage and hearing your moans. Hell, Light’s dad worked with L, he could be watching for all you knew.

You jolted at the sudden sting of Light smacking your thigh with an open palm. “Don’t hold back, angel, and don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear all your pretty moans.” He said, removing himself from your core before pressing his lips almost to your ear again, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I want L to see how good I make you feel. Got it?”

You faintly nodded before he returned to your heat, dipping his tongue inside once again while his thumb felt your clit, rubbing it in circles. You knot your fingers through his brown hair, bringing his face closer to your pussy with a moan. He sped up his actions, practically abusing your clit while his tongue hit your g-spot, curling sightly upwords inside of you.

“Fuck, Light, I can’t, I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulled away, leaving you edged and wanting more. You pouted, sticking your lip out with a whine. Light, having none of it, roughly raked his hand through your hair, forcing you up close to his face by your scalp. “You listen to me.” He growled, the heat of his breath warming your face, “No whining, and no disobeying. Got that?” He yanked your hair with the last syllable for emphasis. You let out a weak “Mhm.” 

He shoved you to the bed chest-first by your hair, never letting his fingers leave your locks. 

“Ass up.” He commanded, you obliged slowly, legs feeling a bit sore from him eating you out.

Hastily he unbuckled his belt before folding it in half, smacking your ass with it leaving a slight red mark. “When I tell you to do something, you do it quickly.”

“Yes Light.”

You yelped as he smacked you again with the belt in the same place, the stinging leaving your ass feel like it was burning. 

“Yes who?” He asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Atta girl.” He pushed his khakis fully down before aligning himself with your entrance, rubbing his head up and down your slit teasingly.

“Sir please...” You begged.

“Please what? Say it.”

“Please, please fuck me sir. I want your cock, please.” 

“Well, only since you asked so nicely.” Light slid himself into you with a groan. Slowly, he rocked himself into you. 

“F-faster, please sir. Faster.” You moaned, gripping onto the sheets.

Light obliged right away, almost as if he was waiting for you to ask for it. He quicked his speed, pounding into you mercilessly. He licked his lips, relishing in the loud slew of moans and curses spilling from your mouth as he fucked you.

“Look at you, you fucking slut. Begging for me to go faster. You’re so goddamn desperate for my cock, you dirty whore.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, though degrading, the fact that Light liked you at all made you feel worth something. Light Yagami, Kira, the god of the new world, liked you. Though you’d never admit it to the stubborn boy, he could say almost anything to you, about you, and you’d still love him.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so tight.” He knotted his fingers back into your hair for stability as he thrusted into you even faster, burying himself deep into you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Light- sir, it’s so good.” You cried, feeling your orgasm creeping up once again. “I’m gonna...”

“Do it, come for me angel.” He encouraged, bringing his free hand up to play with your clit. The stimulation sent you over the edge. “Oh fuck, oh my god, fuck you feel so good.” You came loudly, only a little before Light did as well.

L watched Light collapsed beside you on the bed, only the sound of your breathless pants escaping the monitor. “Uh, they’re done, Yagami-san. You can...open your eyes again. Honestly, this security footage may be useless now, at the very least we cannot bring it to court, considering your son and his girlfriend are both 17. Perhaps this was his plan along.”

“You’re saying this makes you more sure he’s Kira?!” Soichiro raised his voice.

“Well, it definitely raises my suspicions.”

Light finally stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans. Before you could pull your bottoms back up, he picked up your panties from the floor, playfully spinning them around his index finger. “You won’t be missing these, will you?” He asks sarcastically, tossing them into the drawer in his bedside table. 

“Ah, so that’s what he’s hiding. A valid excuse to not want family in your room but... unexpected, to say the least.” L remarked, still somehow watching the cameras.

[allthingsarmin]

fckboy armin? + degredation is always a good combination <3

I was so excited to write this dose of Armin brainrot, omg 😩

If it’s alright with you, anon, I did this request in more of a headcanon format, but the ending is more of a fanfiction format. I’m also sorry I took so long to write this omg.

MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

TW: Mentions of NSFW topics + degradation, mean!armin, manipulation, fuckboy topics

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin whose style resembles that of the horny, manipulative, ghost-y men on campus yet is just too hot for you to handle. The way he wears dark silver rings on his left thumb, middle, and pointer fingers that accentuate his slender, pale fingers and clean-cut nails. The way the small, dark tattoos on his knuckles, right forearm, and collarbone add an aura of mystery and aggression to his being that just exudes sex. The way he wears a gold chain necklace with distressed jeans and a plain t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off his pecks. Or the way he wears long black joggers and an oversized long-sleeve black shirt that makes him look taller. The way he doesn’t wear his mask correctly, always hanging on one of his ears which compliment his stud earrings and devilish smirk. The way he is broke because he’s always spending money on the newest, trendy shoes. The way he always uses way too much cologne… One look at him, and you can sense his ‘asshole attitude,’ but you can’t deny it makes your lower regions pulsate.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who’s body is so perfectly sculpted and toned that it leaves you thinking dirty thoughts in class. The way he sits in class with his sleeves rolled up, laying back relaxed in the chair, right leg bouncing out of boredom as his hard cock becomes noticeable in his grey sweatpants makes you want to run to your dorm and touch yourself. The way his abs call out to you to graze your fingertips against them when he lifts his shirt up to wipe away the sweat after walking home from the gym. The way his beautifully slender fingers hold his phone or push his hair back when he’s frustrated makes you think about how good they would feel inside you. The way his accentuated collarbone peaks through his thin t-shirts, allowing you to see the hickeys and imprints of love bites from god knows how many women makes you jealous. The way his skin is so pale and so soft that his blonde leg hair becomes barely noticeable. The way his golden hair brings out a plethora of the shades of blue in his eyes, and oh how his haircut suits him perfectly, shaping his jawline very well. How his beautiful blue eyes dangerously lure you into him, the soft but manipulative stares he gives you. How he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with you for more than three seconds because he looks at your breasts. The sinister yet sexy smiles he has plastered upon his face when talking with his friends about ‘some other whore’ he fucked the other day… Armin is attractive, and he knows he is attractive. Though you hate how arrogant his looks have made him, his suggestive stares and lip bites from such a handsome man make your heart flutter and mind only focused on one thing.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is always posting thirst traps on instagram. You know… The pictures with the squinted eyes and the bitten lower bottom lip, either showing off his money or new shoes, pictures beside a nice car, suggestive pictures with the new girls he’s been fucking recently, biting his chain necklaces because he thinks it’s sexy. Only follows ‘successful’ men and offensive meme accounts but mostly follows half-naked women and supermodels. Leaves nasty comments on ugly womens’ pictures, calling them whores while he’s in hot girls’ DMs sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. Has thousands of followers, mostly from the party girls and rude men who go to his college. Won’t let you tag him in a photo unless he ‘looks hot.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes slutty gym pictures with his shirt off, abs out, shorts low enough to see his V line, hands in his hair, and a wink. Sends it to every girl in his snapchat contacts and posts it on his story with the ‘slide up’ text.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who hits you with the “you up?” at 2am on snapchat after ghosting you for two months. Tells you how much he misses your lewd moans and sloppy cunt, and then after pressuring you to give him nudes, he saves them and then doesn’t talk to you for at least a week.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is so intelligent and dangerously manipulative. Who is so smart that he doesn’t need or want to pay attention in class, who convinces you to let him keep the nudes you sent him on snapchat, who reels you right back in when you try to move on from him.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who was nice to you at first, befriending you when you looked so alone, shy, and innocent, who only chose you because you looked so easy to take advantage of when he finally closes in on you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who says he doesn’t want ‘any of that relationship stuff’ because all of his exes were crazy and that he only wants to date hot chicks.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who only texts you at ungodly hours during the weekdays and plays games like ‘20 questions’ with you so he can ask you if you’re either a virgin or a whore, if you like oral, if you’ve thought about him in dirty ways before… or truth or dare, asking you if you if you want to be his slut or daring you to send him lewd pictures of yourself.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes every chance he can get to turn anything sexual: the way your skirt is just a little too short that makes him suddenly grab your upper thighs, the way you innocently lick your ice cream cone on a hot summer day - he tells you to put your tongue on his cock instead, how you put your hair up in a high ponytail just makes him want to pull on it and kiss the crook of your neck… it all leaves him clouded with dirty thoughts.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who calls you ‘babe’ and refers to you as his ‘girl’ even though he has a million bitches on the side.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who makes you feel like shit about yourself because he’s constantly sending you womens’ profiles on Instagram, saying you should look more like them and ‘get a nicer ass.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who becomes more controlling as your sexual relationship continues, basically forcing you to let him check your phone in case you're messaging other dudes and being naughty for men besides him but gets defensive when you want to see his phone.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who refuses to eat you out but expects you to praise his cock with your slutty mouth and wet tongue.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t really care about your personal problems or pain, and whenever you tell him you’re hurting on the inside, he offers to let you come over to his house so that he can fuck you: “once my cock is inside you again, you’ll forget all about your sadness.”

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t use condoms because he ‘can’t feel anything’ when he wears them, so he just assumes that you’re on birth control when he cums inside you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who violates your privacy when he’s online gaming with his closest friends, Eren and Jean, as he tells them through the microphone about how tight and wet your pussy is and how much you enjoy being treated like a slut, your mouth full of his cock and pussy dripping with his cum… going as far as sending secretive videos he took of you to them where you’re whimpering and begging for Armin’s cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who pressures you to do risky things you don’t want to do, but you just can’t find the courage to say no to him when he stares at you with his intense blue eyes… like when he asks you to sit next to him in the back of the class then without your approval, sneaks his slender fingers into your panties and starts harshly playing with your clit. He devilishly smirks as you try to suppress your cries of disapproval. Or like when he convinces you to let him take videos of you when you’re in a position that exposes your slick cunt to him so well. Or even how he manipulates you into trying something new that you’ve never been comfortable with, like swallowing his thick cum, letting him put you in a full-nelson, maybe letting him choke you while he spits in your mouth.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who finally closes in on you, begging you to help him study for the upcoming test since he wasn’t paying attention in class because ‘you’re just so distracting’ to him, acting so smart and innocent and respectably in front of the teacher when Armin really knows that your slutty outfits and wet pussy says otherwise… so you excitedly go over to his dorm, thankful that finally it will be a normal get-together where you could actually find out more about Armin instead of finding out more about how he likes his cock sucked. Upon entering his dorm, it is apparent that he never planned on studying with you as his textbooks are nowhere to be found, and he is sitting on the couch half-naked with Netflix on the TV.

ᵔᴥᵔ “Oh hey, y/n, didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” he says nonchalantly. You unknowingly stare at his broad shoulders, his strong chest, and of course his V-line that is not hard to miss as he carelessly talks shit about his teachers. “See something you like?” arrogance seething from his teeth as he brushes back his blond hair. You don’t say anything as your face grows red. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch. “Come on, let’s watch something.”

ᵔᴥᵔ The sound of skin slapping drowns out the voices on the TV. You don’t even know how Armin managed to get you into this position again where you’re so submissive under him, giving into him yet again. He flips you over on your back, and he props himself up, looking over your figure that’s so pathetically displayed below him. You can see his angelic hair stick to his forehead as the sweat drips down his soft but sharp cheeks. The look in his eyes has gone dark, and his smile is sinister as if he was a predator about to devour a prey. He wickedly laughs as you grind your needy cunt against his hard cock. This is where he really gets mean.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin loves to degrade you like the whore you are, constantly reminding you just how easy you are to take advantage of, how easy you are to win over with just some dick, how easy it is to make your sloppy cunt squirt and tingle from multiple orgasms, how easy it is to make you whimper and beg for his thick cock to make a complete mess of your pussy.

ᵔᴥᵔ “You really didn’t think I invited you over just to study, did you?” he snickers as he cruelly and slowly thrusts into your aching cunt, making eye contact with you and grinning as your face turns red. He grabs your throat, choking you, and begins to thrust faster which pulls shaky moans from under your breath. He inches close to your ear and whispers, “you even came over here without wearing underwear under that short skirt of yours…” he switches to the other ear, “and when I started touching your dirty cunt during the movie, you were already so wet,” you shiver at his words. He pulls back and gives you a gentle slap with his left hand, his rings stinging your face, and uses his right hand to twist your perky nipples. He begins to laugh, “but I’m not surprised that a filthy slut like you - my filthy slut - would think of such impure thoughts during something as innocent as watching a movie.” Armin leans closer to your face again, still thrusting into you at a quick pace. His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin. He harshly grabs your mouth and tells you to open, which you submissively comply with, and he spits into your mouth which causes you to whimper. He smacks the side of your thigh. “You like being treated like some depraved slut don’t you?” You don’t reply, but the fluttering in your tight pussy says otherwise. He flips you onto your stomach, your breasts mushing into the couch, and without warning, he forces his girthy cock into your tight pussy. He is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, making you scream and moan incoherent words. “What’s my little slut saying? Use your words, baby,” he teases. At this point, you can only call out his name. “A-armin…” He begins to torturously thrust into that one spot, and within seconds, you're bucking your hips, intensely squirting onto his couch and leaving a sopping wet dark spot. “Fucking whore, gonna have to buy a new couch because you can’t control your filthy cunt,” he growls into your ear. He quickly flips you over onto your back again, wanting to see your face. Your face is contorted with such pleasure; your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your mouth is wide open with drool dripping down your jaw. Armin shudders, his cock getting even harder in your tight pussy. “So hot… such a lewd slut.” He immediately brings out his phone, taking a picture. “Want me to show my friends what a cock-hungry whore you are?” You quickly nod. “So fucking pathetic,” he snarls. “I’m going to destroy your cunt, slut.” He shoves his warm tongue in your mouth, gently grabbing the hair on your foggy head. “I’m gonna break you in so bad,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from your face.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who maybe in fact does want to have that ‘relationship shit’ with you ~

__________________________

Requests are open, and feedback is appreciated <3

[sneezefiction]

answers

oikawa x reader

desc: oikawa changes some lyrics in taylor swift’s song “love story”

a/n: please keep in mind that most of this is just humorous & there’s no serious characterization in this particular story. i laughed a lot while writing it :,,) for @cutiekawa because you gave me the idea; thank you for that! and also for @seroto-rin because this is very similar to your husband’s lyric changing habits lol – i still laugh whenever i think about it <3 warnings: language, mentions drinking/being drunk

wc: 3k

— It’s 2 am when you hear Oikawa pattering down the hallway and past your room. From the gentle footsteps and the occasional whisper of “shit” when the floor creaks, it's obvious that he’s trying to stay quiet.

But his attempts are in vain because, one, you’re wide awake and, two, he’s just knocked over an empty beer can from earlier. It was probably the one he’d left on the hall table – you’d told him to throw it away but he’d refused saying that he’d “throw it away in the morning when his arms weren’t so tired.” 

This is just karma.

The clatter of the aluminum on wooden floors echoes throughout the dorm. A much louder, especially frustrated, “fuck” follows right after it.

The word, though crass, sounds deceptively attractive on his tongue. But most things Oikawa-related just happen to be attractive. 

You muffle your laughter with a blanket. He’s probably disoriented from the alcohol – it’s only been an hour and 5 drinks each since you both called it a night. You’d headed straight to bed but he’d fallen asleep on the couch where you left him, hair a-mess and lips parted.

But, for someone who used to stay out till daybreak on weekends, he’s spent most Fridays hanging out with you instead.

This weekend was no different.

Oikawa ordered Thai takeout, you found a mindless Netflix series to binge, both of you had a little too much to drink, laughter ensued, the doe-eyed boy found his head in your lap, and…

You pull a face – one that goes unseen because of the dark, but you make it anyway.

Okay, that last part was a little different.

He’d had his head in your lap.

His head… in your… lap.

And, if you’re not mistaken (or delirious), you’d had your hands in his hair, twirling strands and tracing circles at the base of his neck. A foggy image of him gazing up at you with softened eyes, deep chocolate in color, begins to solidify. 

That lazy smile, a hand on your thigh, tresses tickling your skin...

You turn over in your bed, bunching up your sheets and holding them close to you like a shield of fabric — a flimsy, make-shift defense against tipsy mind-wandering. It isn’t very effective.

Your brain is not wandering but racing around this hand-in-hair realization.

Like an iron rod poking at hot embers, these prodding memories make your cheeks grow hotter by the millisecond. You bury your face in your pillow, embarrassment tight in your throat. 

Somehow you’d forgotten that he’d practically climbed into your lap. You’re not in the clear quite yet, but your brain is functioning well enough that it wishes you’d had a little more to drink – just enough to forget about it entirely. You starfish out on your bed, arms and legs dramatically splayed across the mattress.

Do (hot, charming, charismatic, windswept) flatmates usually get this... cuddly? Is that normal?

Does Iwaizumi wrap his arms around his roomies after a long day and a few bottles? How about Mattsun? Makki…?

Okay, no, none of them really seem like the type to get up close and personal with their roommates without good reason. Well, maybe Makki, but he’d do it to be a pain in the ass – not to charm the living-hell out of someone.

You try to take in a deep breath and wrap your head around what this means for you… but end up inhaling a feather from your pillow instead. As you hack and cough, you try to smother the noise in more cloth material – you really didn’t need him coming into your room, much less leaning over your bed to check on you.

Oikawa is messing with your head. 

If you knew any better, you’d have run away screaming the moment he’d asked you to room with him. No one that pretty and charismatic is good news. At least, not when it comes to shared housing.

But, here you are, writhing under the covers and hot like a fever all because he couldn’t keep to himself. Screw him and his charming smile for putting you in this position.

He either knows you’re crushing like he’s the last man on earth or he’s blissfully unaware and way too physically affectionate for his own good. 

You don’t dare consider that he likes you back though. Only deer and Olympic athletes made leaps like that. Oikawa had too many admirers… an irritating amount.

The blankets scrunch even tighter between your fists, likely thanking their maker that they don’t have nerve endings.

Every fiber of your being is begging to know if these feelings are reciprocated. You’d hate to live out the rest of this semester knowing the boy down the hall may not like you back. Worse, that he finds out you think he’s hot shit and doesn’t like you back – that would be unrequited love at its finest.

But, with a degree and your mental health on the line, why should you care about such minor, itty bitty, pointless details. 

This isn’t that big a deal.

And even if he did like you back? Well, Oikawa isn’t someone you can simply “pin down.” He comes with a distinctive, dramatic personality and a meddling side. Not to mention, he’s already the embodiment of chaos – he’s proven this to be true over the past 4 months he’s lived with you.

There’s a familiar squeak of the shower faucet handle and the hiss of hot water. You jump at the sound.

Maybe he’d forgotten, but your bedroom shares a very thin wall with the bathroom. Though you recall him saying he wanted to take a shower earlier, so you guess that he’s only just remembered.

You pick up your phone, blue light casting a less-than angelic glow on your sleepy face. You pray that TikTok will have some sort of life-changing “I’m in love with my hot, crazy flatmate” advice. Or that it will distract you from your inner turmoil. Either would be appreciated but the latter seems more likely.

Scrolling slowly, you get through about 3 videos before something else catches your attention.

There’s a deep reverberation buzzing through your wall. A gentle hum, much like a shower-concert lullaby.

But the noise is getting louder. And the humming? A lot more lyrical.

You shift into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your hands. With your side sunken into a pillow, you press your ear against the cool drywall. Your ears tune into the sound.

Oikawa, voice confident and free, is… singing.

“...But you were everything to me, I was begging you ‘please don’t go’…”

But he’s not just singing.

“And I said…”

He’s belting Taylor Swift with the enthusiasm of an 11-year-old Swiftie super-fan. Like the world would end if he didn’t put enough passion into this performance. Like the showerhead is his microphone and the surrounding tiles are his adoring audience.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run...”

Most people would be pissed if their friend were singing in the shower at 2 am… but you can’t find it in yourself to be anything but enamored.

God, you hate him for doing this right now. Hate that he’s inadvertently endearing you to him. Hate that, no matter what you do, he’s somehow always there.

Pressed up against you on the couch, meeting you for dinner at his favorite restaurant, fussing at each other over a shitty cup of coffee in your even shittier kitchen, calling you when he needs somebody to keep him company at the library… 

“You'll be the prince & I'll be the princess…”

And now he’s accidentally serenading you with Taylor’s “Fearless” album. In the shower.

You facepalm, sinking into your hands, exasperated and just so… done.

You sink back down into the bedsheets, wishing your earbuds were nearby to drown out the regrettably adorable performance. 

“It's a love story y/n, just say ��Yes.’”

And your heart drops, panic setting in like the touch down of a whirling tornado. A fire tornado. A fire tornado with frogs and lizards and sharp objects spinning around inside of it.

What… did he just say?

The lyrics… they were muffled. You definitely heard them incorrectly. You… you just need to get your ears checked. Yes, that’s it. That’s all there is to it. You’ll schedule an appointment first thing tomorrow morning.

Because who the fuck sings like that at 2 am in a shared dorm? And who the fuck puts someone else’s name into a song like that? No one? Yes, no one.

Especially not the Oikawa Tooru.

And especially not with your name.

Because that’s just... weird.

The grip on your phone is mighty – thank God for durable glass because any other material would’ve splintered or shattered in your hold. 

But what the hell.

“Y/n, save me, I've been feeling so alone,” he sings as though he were Beyoncé’s son.

This time it’s clear as day. Oikawa is definitely still out of it and he’s undoubtedly singing your name.

No, no, no.

“I keep waiting for you but you never come…”

You bolt out of bed, feet hitting the floor at lightning-strike speed.

“Is this in my head? I don't know what to think,”

In one swift movement, you fling the bedroom door open and rush down the hall. You shouldn’t be listening to this. 

“He knelt to the ground & pulled out a ring, and said...”

And before you can stop your hand, it’s knocking rapidly on the bathroom door.

There’s a gasp, what you assume to a bar of soap hitting the shower floor, and an abrupt silence that follows.

You’d only wanted to stop him from singing.

However, you hadn’t thought through what you were going to say to him about this whole... lyrical mess. Your face feels like the surface of the sun, burning and flaring and flushing. What are you supposed to do now?

Oikawa speaks up, voice quiet, “Hello?”

Shit.

Maybe if you’re careful you can get yourself out of this. Just act like you didn’t hear anything and bring it up tomorrow when you’re both thinking straight. A thorough and sober discussion would be needed.

You had questions. Questions that needed answers.

Why did he have his head in your lap? Had you said anything to him that you’d regret later? Does he like you? Where should you two place your boundaries if he doesn’t like you back? And why Taylor Swift?

“Y/n, is that you?” He asks, nonchalantly.

Who else would it be?

The handle squeaks and, with that, the water stops. Only the gentle swirl of the drain and the occasional drips and drops from the showerhead are audible.

It’s too late. You’re already there. You’ve knocked and, in doing so, you’ve sealed your fate.

“...Yes,” is your whisper of a reply.

“What’s up? Was I too loud for you?”

You’ve got the entire building on high-alert singing that loudly.

...is what you would say if you weren’t currently imploding. This is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. And nothing you ever want to experience again.

“Um, yeah, sorry.” You look down at your shuffling feet.

The hallway is pitch black, hardly allowing for even a mere shadow. Rushing out of your room, you’d forgotten to turn on even a single light.

You hear him step onto the tile floor and the rustle of a tower from the bathroom closet.

“Wait, can we talk?” He asks as though it weren’t the question of the fucking year. “I mean, preferably after I get out of the bathroom.” There’s a lack of tact to his words.

This isn’t the charming Oikawa you’re used to. This is a blunt… confusingly straightforward Oikawa.

His tone wavers like maybe he’d had a little more to drink than you’d last remembered. Your memory was proving to be disappointingly unreliable tonight.

You swallow thickly, “Sure.”

Because what else can you say?

“Can I stop by your room in a minute?”

You take a deep breath, “Yeah.”

And you patter back to your no-longer very safe haven. Oikawa is about to infiltrate your space… with your permission. And the weapons he’ll bring will either harpoon you or leave you emotionally paralyzed – whether that emotional paralysis is a good or bad thing will be decided in the near future.

Your bed, though soft and blanket-covered, looks far less appealing now. It may as well be a bed of nails because you would rather hide beneath it than sit atop it.

But you sit anyway, letting the mattress dip and the springs twang.

The bathroom door cries as it opens, putting you on edge. Your heart is pounding like a drum at a summer festival – hotter and louder with every beat.

The trod of footsteps tells you he’s approaching and, sure enough, the open door reveals Oikawa.

With only a lamp to brighten the space, he’s more contoured than usual. His hair is wet and heavy against his head, taking on an even darker brown than before. You’ve seen him fresh out of the shower before, but this… is different. Oikawa’s shirt sticks to his chest slightly – he must’ve thrown it on without drying off fully to get to you faster.

He takes a few steps into your room, choosing to lean his back against a wall next to your work desk. Oikawa brings his hands behind his back, pressing his weight into them. Brown eyes flicker from you to the wall behind you and back again.

Naturally, tension lays thick as a fog in the air space. 

“Hey, I’m…”

You cut him off, “You don’t have to say sorry! It’s… it’s okay.” 

Oops, you’d said that a little too loud. Not that it mattered much after Oikawa’s passionate performance.

An eyebrow raises and confusion sparks across his face. Your body freezes.

He brings a hand behind his neck. “Oh, I was just gonna say that I’m still kinda drunk.”

You knew that much. Though you really thought he’d say something other than that. Preferably something about the, uh, devoted love-song?

Why is he acting so casual right now? Is this even Tooru? Had he read too many alien conspiracies and been abducted for learning too much about extraterrestrials? 

Maybe he doesn’t realize you’d even heard him say your name in the shower.

“Oh... right.” You say slowly, lips staying parted at the end of your sentence.

“Which… probably isn’t good for either of us,” Different words drawl out and there’s a soft slur to some syllables, but at least he’s easy to understand, “me drinking too much, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you mutter.

“I think we should both just go to bed then.”

Your chest tightens. Of course, you want answers.

They’re likely embarrassing, face-reddening, Taylor Swift-centric answers. But you want them, nonetheless.

Although, it’s probably for the best that you don’t bring this up tonight. It was all probably a joke or a harmless accident – and, anyway, he admitted to being drunk.

“Right.”

“But I think you should know that I like you. A lot.”

“Yeah,” you respond again, automatically.

There’s another heavy silence. The pretty boy just stares at you, cherry colors tinting his cheeks but showing no expression of fear or embarrassment. You stare back, processing his words at turtle-like speeds.

The words tumble out, “Wait, say that again?” You double back, your own face reheating to its earlier temperature.

“I’m gonna be mad at myself in the morning if I don’t leave right now. And I really need to stop listening to that stupid song,” Oikawa says to himself. 

“But I wanted to see how you would respond if I changed the lyrics,” the words are pointed back at you again.

He stands up, feet moving slowly toward the doorway. Did he just… completely ignore your question?

Your jaw drops, “Did…” you can hardly speak.

Clearing your throat, you try again, focusing intently on your words, “...did you mean for me to hear you?”

“...Maybe.” He draws out the “e,” looking back at you.

That’s it. He’s lost his fucking mind. You’re going to strangle him. 

No TikTok advice could have prepared you for the monstrosity that is Oikawa Tooru. How Iwaizumi put up with that... that child for all these years, you have no idea.

You have to make a note of sending him a “get well” card, because nobody could be mentally okay after dealing with him for that long.

“B- but… why? What?” You stammer out, back stiff as a board.

“You like me don’t you?” He tilts his head, hair flopping cutely with it.

You gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing.

And it’s not that you don’t want to respond.

It’s that you can’t. You have no words. You vocal chords are on a panic-induced lockdown.

Because he knew.

He knew this entire time. Which you thought he might, but that doesn’t make the situation any less infuriating.

“And I like you back.”

You’re dumbfounded. You can’t think. This is ridiculous.

You open your mouth once more but he has no intention of continuing this conversation.

“Sleep well!” Without further comment, Oikawa flashes you a sleepy smile and begins scampering back to his room after having wreaked havoc on your poor heart.

Your voice comes back just in time for you to wake up the entire building once more,

“No, you get your ass back here and explain yourself!”

[mxchellesworld]

You know biggie?

Spencer Reid x Poc!Reader

Synopsis; Where Spencer enlists help from Morgan to try and impress you

Warnings; none, mention of smut, mostly fluff

a/n; this is very much a self indulgent thought i have so im very sorry that i modeled y/n kind of like myself. also as a black/mexican girl it is so upsetting that are rarely fics with cm characters and a poc so here we are. anyways hope you enjoy!

***

The day you walked into the BAU Spencer knew he was fucked. Though that’s how Derek put it, he wouldn’t disagree. From the moment he saw you were able to get Hotch to smile he knew you were special. 

You were a ball of vibrant energy. Always trying to bring people up when they were having a tough time. While you’d never admit it, Garcia had a run for her money. 

He was lucky enough to have his desk next to yours. Every time you walked by him in the morning, the mix of your coconut shampoo and the bright smile you gave him pushed him to do his best. 

Now he wasn’t a jealous man at all. It was more so that he wished to be able to have some moments with you like the ones you share with others. The one he wanted the most was how you acted with Morgan. 

Of course he was the big brother figure to everyone. So naturally whenever he was driving you’d always yell out, “shotgun” to sit with him. Spencer would just playfully groan but had no problem giving up his seat for you. If anything it was the perfect time to admire you. 

Even on the dullest cases you were able to lighten the mood by connecting your phone to the aux and blasting your favorite songs. He’d watch how you’d start poking Morgan’s arm as he drove to try and get him to rap along with you. 

Spencer would notice how he would bite his cheek to try and keep in the grin begging to spread across his face. You’d then pick up the imaginary microphone and give them the performance of a life time. Aiming the mic towards Morgan’s mouth he knew he couldn’t let you down and would always give in to your playful ways. 

But his favorite part was when you’d turn in your seat to sing to him. 

The way your plump glossy lips would curve in a smile with each word you sang. The way your big brown eyes showed how the emotions of the lyrics flowed through you. Even when you’d get a little bold and caress his face then playfully bop his nose. 

Morgan would be looking in the rearview with a shit eating grin on his face mouthing ‘you’re whipped’. 

For the rest of the ride he would be entranced by your curls bouncing as you bopped your head to the beat. 

Maybe he’d ask Morgan to write down some of your favorite songs. For research of course. 

_

After a year of you being on the team Penelope decided a party was in order to celebrate. Rossi being the generous man he was offered up his house for a pool party since it was June and the heat was coming on strong. 

Spencer walked into the back yard where the party was in full swing. You had asked for just the members of the team and their families. The adults were sitting around on lawn chairs or resting on the edge of the pool watching their kids. 

Looking around for you he saw you laying on the grass with Hank resting on your stomach. His tiny hands would reach for your face and you’d playfully press kisses to his palms causing a roar of giggles to come from his small body.

Spencer felt a hand clap on his shoulder and knew who it was. 

“She’s something else huh pretty boy,” Morgan said while looking at you cooing at his son. 

“Yeah,” he sighed longingly, “Do you uh, what do you think she’d day if I asked her on a date?”

“Pretty Ricky I know you have a IQ of a million in there so you should be able to run some guesses.” 

“So she’d say no,” Spencer said with a pout. 

Morgan smacked the back of his head which caused Spencer to let out a loud noise of disapproval. You walked over with Hank in your arms to see Spencer rubbing the back of his head. 

“Derek did you hit him?” you asked with a defensive tone. 

“He asked a stupid question,” Morgan said in defense. 

“Yeah yeah take your kid,” you said handing Hank over to him, “Spence let me get you a drink.” 

The only thing he could do was nod and return your smile. You motioned for him to follow you into Rossi’s kitchen. As he walked behind you it took all his strength to not let his eyes drop down to the small wrap you had around your waist covering up the bikini bottoms you had on. 

Though the water dripping down your tan back from the tips of your hair didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

Reaching into the fridge you pulled out a beer and quickly opened it. He felt his breath hitch as your fingers grazed his while you handed it to him. 

“Is that ok? I know you usually like whiskey or something when the team goes to bars but I figured you were driving home so I thought maybe a beer would be better to keep you on your toes,” he had never seen you ramble as if you were nervous. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered at the fact you had been so thoughtful of his drinking choices. Even if it was something so simple. 

“Yeah Y/n this is perfect.. You’re perfect,” he said looking down at you. 

“Oh- I uh um thank you Spencer. You are quite perfect yourself as well,” you said trying to regain some of your usual confidence. 

Neither of you had realized you were standing there until the beat of an all too familiar song brought you out of your trance, lost in his caramel eyes. 

Hypnotize by Biggie Smalls

“God I love this song,” you perked up, ready to head back out to the rest of the guests. 

“Did you know “Hypnotize” was released just weeks before his death on March 9, 1997,” Spencer tried to say keeping his voice from wavering. 

“You know Biggie?” you said with a questioning smile. 

“Y/n I grew up in Vegas of course-,” he cut himself off noticing your raised eyebrow, “Ok maybe I didn’t know him that well. I uh asked Morgan for some of your favorite songs to get to know you and did a little research.” 

“Aw Spence that’s really sweet. How about you come over tomorrow and I can put you on to some music?”

“I will be there,” he said raising his bottle. 

“Great. And Spence, I envy your glasses,” you said with a smirk. 

“What? My glasses?” 

“Cus they’re sitting on your face and I’m not,” you said winking at him then turning around and heading out the patio door. 

He looked in that direction to see Morgan peeking his head in with Hank in his arms. It was crazy to see how such a small child could have such a knowing look on his face. 

Spencer groaned and walked back out to the party. Making eye contact with you as you passed on the imaginary microphone to Penelope who gladly took it and sung at the top of her lungs. 

[thesandersinitiative]

How big is the chance of getting blown up in this career path?

Patton steels himself, and for a moment, it's impossible to tell whether he's about to refuse Remus or indulge him.

Then, overhead, a muffled curse that sounds distinctly like Doctor Storm as several things crash loudly in the background, as if someone swiped them off the table in alarm. Remus raises an intrigued eyebrow, while Logan's upper lip curls. "It seems Dr. Storm has finally learned what helicarrier means. It's a testament to the decline of academia that he's earned one doctorate, let alone three."

"Wait, Virgil--" Thomas's voice comes through clear as he rises in with the microphone. "Hey, calm down, it's just the engine--"

"This thing flies?!" Virgil demands, so incredulously loud that it's as if he were in the bay of the plane himself, "I'm on an air craft carrier that mans over 5,000 people and it fucking flies?!"

His breathing is harsh and ragged and close to the microphone, as if Thomas has placed a hand on his back and is delicately attempting to guide him to sit. At Virgil's tone--panicked instead of snarky--Logan stands rapidly, as if Virgil's lack of control over his breathing is a sign of his sudden lack of ability to control something else.

"There's a reason Dee never invited you to visit," Thomas says sheepishly, "We're probably just meeting them midair. Sit, okay? Joan, put the gun down and go get Virgil a pair of earbuds for the noise."

"I'm not leaving you when he's about to go nuclear on base--"

"He's not going to go nuclear." Thomas says firmly, "And even if he was, violence has never subdued him before, and it won't now. You've read his file. It'll just make things worse."

"I'm in the room you know," Virgil says, voice clenched, "I'm fine--fucking--he doesn't need--I'm not made of glass it was just. A surprise. Another thing to make my day worse. Tell Ackroyd to stand down," Virgil snorts in laughter, but it's shaky, "He's not getting his fight today."

"I don't want a fight," Logan snarls, forcefully sitting back down and responsibility re buckling himself into his seat, "You're a powder keg, Storm. Of course I'm ready for when someone strikes a light."

"Rats," Remus snaps his finger, "You Midgardians owe me a meal but here I thought I was getting a show to go with it for free! The knight in iron armor slays the horrid dragon! Boring, of course, but dear Roman likes to call that shit classic."

"A dragon to be slain?" Roman scoffs, "Midgardians have nothing of the sort, and I doubt one with such an unstained soul as the Captain would associate himself with such a creature. You've already imposed your dreadfulness on these people, Remus, don't go making other demands."

Patton shifts uncomfortably at the comment, but turns his stare down to his intertwined hands, as if he wants to protest, but can't quite bring himself to. Logan looks sour, but doesn't interrupt.

"I've read the laws of this land, Ro," Remus says casually, "They treat prisoners with accommodations as plush as my ass. Why do you think I surrendered to them, and not you?"

"You're a coward--" Roman hisses, leaning down into Remus's face.

"And the God of Bravery!" Remus beams up at him, but there's a sharp, cruel edge to it, as if the irony isn't his alone to share "Ain't it ironic, my oh, so honorable brother? Kill any more diplomats lately?"

Thunder booms as the plane's front glass panes burn white with lightning.

"Stop it, Roman!" Patton snaps, rising to his feet and glaring at both brothers with a sharp ferocity. "Stop rising to his bait already! Plug your ears, sit down, and don't talk to him until we land! I already have one god acting like an overgrown, immortal child, I do not need two!"

"I--" Roman sputters for a second, as if trying to stop himself from declaring he started it in a whiny, childish tone. His reverence for Patton seems to win over, though, because after a moment he steps back from his brother and sits down across the aisle, gaze almost shamefully averted, while Remus stares at him, head titled to the side.

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[nadisabug]

Take On Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson! reader

Warnings: terribly written, I apologize, cannon divergence (smol divergence), song fic?????

Summary: Y/n won’t believe that The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington likes her. 

A/N: aaahhhhh okay so I woke up at seven am and this song was playing and I had a fever dream idea for a fic so it’s terrible no beta we die like men

"Wanna go to the movies sometime?"

I was mid-bite in my ice cream when Steve "The Hair" Harrington popped the question. I slowly backed away from the ice cream and stared at him dumbfoundedly.

He was leaning on the register, his bicep prominent and flexed. He had lost the cap he usually wore, and even though he had probably been wearing it all day, his hair still looked good. He was flashing me a drop dead gorgeous smile and his eyes were almost sparkling.

Gods I was fucked.

This wasn't the first time he had asked me out by any means. He had been hinting at it every time we saw each other for the past half year. This was the first time he was so up front about it, though. Usually I could act stupid and brush it off.

I hid the heat creeping up on my cheeks by digging in my purse. I grabbed a wad of bills and slapped them on the counter.

"Sorry, I got to go pick up Dusty from AV club," I smiled tightly, lying through my clenched teeth. "Keep the change." And with that, I nearly ran from Scoops Ahoy ice cream. I left so quickly that i didn't see Dustin, my brother, popping out from behind the counter.

"Dude, sorry. You'll get her next time," Dusty sighed.

"Next time?" Steve scoffed. "Buddy, there will be no next time."

"Come on, she likes you I swear," Dusty pleaded.

"Sure didn't look like it," Robin piped in. She was sitting on the passway holding a white board that said 'Steve Sucks' with 17 check marks below it and 'Y/n said yes' with no check marks below it. "I think that one counted for two," she announced, adding two check marks to the 17.

"Shut up Robin," Dusty snapped. He turned back to Steve. "Please Steve you gotta believe me!"

"Okay, okay, fine Henderson," Steve sighed collapsing on the ice cream counter. "Then why does she keep blowing me off?"

Dusty smiled. "For that, we do some recon."

~~~~~~~

I was laying on my bed when I heard a knock on my door. I looked up from the book I was reading.

"Momma?" I called curiously.

"No! It's your favorite brother," Dusty announced, throwing open the door. I smiled and put my book on the night stand.

"Indeed it is. To what do I owe this pleasure," I sat up and patted the bed next to me.

Dusty graciously threw himself into the bed and smiled up at me. "A brother can't want to talk to his only sister who he loves?"

I raised an eyebrow at that. Dusty was always so bad at lying. "Spill, now," I ordered.

Dusty sighed and slumped down. He cursed under his breath - which I chose to ignore under the circumstances- and then looked up at me again.

"Steve told me he likes you. Like a lot."

At that confession, I hopped off the bed, turning away to hide my blush. I had just blown Steve off now here Dusty was telling me Steve likes me? Something was off.

"Since when did Steve trust you enough to tell you that kind of stuff?" I questioned, towering over Dusty who was still sitting on the bed.

"Well we've been hanging out." Dusty couldn't even maintain eye contact with me. He was hiding something.

"Where were you today after school?"

"AV clu-"

"Oh my gods you were at Scoops Ahoy." I slapped my hands over my face and turned around to hide my shame.

"No I wasn't!" Dusty tried to cover his tracks, but it was already too late.

"Dusty, there is no AV club today." The pieces clicked together in my mind. "Oh my gods Steve knows I lied to him."

"Yeah! Which really hurt him because he likes you!"

"No he doesn't Dusty!" I threw myself face first onto the bed and screamed.

"Yes he does! He's literally asked you out so many times."

I twisted, propping myself up on my elbow so that I could look at Dusty. "That does not mean he likes me."

"How so?" Dusty huffed and folded his arms.

"Because, Dusty, he's Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, he probably just wants to get back at Nancy for ditching him for Will's brother."

"What? No," Dusty scoffed.

"Yeah," I nodded. "She left him for The Freak so he's going to date The Psycho Bitch."

Dusty got a soft look of his face for a moment. "Is that what they call you?"

"Doesn't matter Dusty. What matters is that Steve doesn't actually like me. He just thinks he does because he's torn up about Nancy."

Dusty thought for a second. "What if he proved it to you?"

I looked at Dusty. "What do you mean?"

"What if he actually proved to you that he really did like you?"

I shrugged. "Then I'd date him and losing Dart won't come and bite us in the butt."

"Really sis you had to bring that up?"

"He ate Mews," I whisper yelled, careful in case Mom heard.

"About that, we finished translating the message, come on," he rolled off the bed, grabbing my arm and pulling me over in the process.

"Ow! No I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I can't see Steve after lying to him like that!"

"Oh just come on, he'll forgive you. He's madly in love with you."

I doubted that but I went with Dusty anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After everything we went through, we had a moment to pretend like everything was okay. The middle school dance.

I was upset that Dusty insisted that Steve take him to the dance and not me, but I knew they had something like a brother bond so I wan't too upset. I volunteered to be one of the high schooler chaperones, mainly under Joyce's wishes. She wanted at least someone there to watch Will like a hawk. Or two.

So Nancy and I were here. At the punch table.

"So, how's college going," Nancy piped up.

I had to be honest, I didn't really like her. Not with the way she broke Steve's heart. But I had to remain cordial. I guess.

"Good."

"I heard you got scholarships."

"It was the only way I could go."

"Yeah. With the.... deaths..." she said carefully, "at the Hawkins Post, they're hiring again. So Jonathan and I got our jobs back."

"That's great." I paused. "Not the deaths, the getting jobs back."

"Yeah."

We lapsed into silence after that.

I scanned the room to see that the boys had split off to dance. Some girl was dancing with Will, Mike was dancing with El, and Lucas was with Max.

Dusty wasn't with them though.

I looked around the room to see him sitting on the bleachers holding back tears. My heart lurched at the sight.

"I'm going to go dance with him," Nancy announced. I was about to let her when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I grabbed Nancy's arm.

"Wait," I ordered. I saw a girl with visible braces wearing a baby blue dress approach Dusty. He immediately perked up and held out his hand for her. She took it and they walked to the dance floor.

"Nice call," Nancy smiled.

I just dropped her arm, nodded, and turned away to watch them.

After a couple of hours, the kids started leaving one by one. Around the time we were at half capacity, Dusty came up to me.

"May I have this dance?" He awkwardly bowed with his hand outstretched. I had to stifle a giggle.

I looked at Nancy. She waved me off. "Go ahead, I can serve punch."

"Of course, mi' Lord," I giggled and took his hand.

He dragged me all the way to the middle of the dance floor and began to dance with me.

"Sure Suzie won't be jealous about baby blue dancing with you?"

"She knows I only have eyes for her," Dusty rolled his eyes at the notion that she could possibly be jealous.

"Turn around," I began in a sing songy voice. "Look at what you see!"

"Oh shut up," Dusty growled and shoved me.

I laughed but kept dancing with him.

At that moment the song changed, and Dusty smiled. My back was to the stage so I couldn't see what was going on, but I assumed it was just the band preparing.

As soon as I heard the signature synth, I squealed.

"I love this song, Dusty did you request it?"

"Sorta," he grinned.

Then I heard his voice.

"Ba ba-ba ba. We're talking away, I don't know what I'm to say, I'll say it anyway. Today's another day to find you shying away."

I dropped Dusty's shoudlers and turned around. When I did I saw Steve "The Hair" Harrington on the stage, mic in hand, singing.

Then he pointed straight at me.

"I'll be coming for your love, okay?"

"No fucking way," I whispered.

"Hell fucking yeah, get it Harrington!" Dusty cheered behind me.

"Take on me, take me on, I'll be gone in a day or two," he sang, the last word high and pitchy. It was so bad. So awfully terrible. He was making a complete fool of himself.

But I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"So needless to say, of odds and ends, but I'll be stumbling away slowly learning that life is okay. Say after me, it's no better to be safe than sorry."

It was only then that I noticed that the middle schoolers around me had parted to make a huge circle, with me at the center.

"Take on me, take me on, I'll be gone in a day or two," Steve sang even worse than the first time. Then he tossed the mic into the crowd and jumped off the stage. Then he began to dance, horribly. He did the running man, switching to the sprinkler, which then phased into a Charleston. It was so horrible but I couldn't help but smile. After the dance break, he turned to the crowd with his hand out. Miraculously, someone handed him the microphone.

"Oh, the things that you say, yeah is it life or just to play my worries way? You're all the things I've got to remember," he sang and walked towards me. I tried to take a couple steps back, but someone - most likely my beloved Dusty - shoved me forward. Hard. I stumbled and fell into Steve, who caught me.

"You're shying away, I'll be coming for you anyway." Steve clicked the microphone off and held it out to the crowd. Someone took it quickly and he brought his other arm around me. I would like to say that I tried to stand up away from him, but I didn't. I just let Steve hold me.

"Take on me..." Steve sang to me and only me. With each word he pulled my arms up and wrapped them around his neck. He then began to sway softly with the music, dancing with me. We danced as the crowd around us reformed, the middle schoolers going back to dancing. It was almost like nothing happened.

But to me everything thing did.

"Are you su-"

"Yes," he whispered.

I smiled.

"Wanna go to the movies sometime?"

Sorry not sorry Dusty deserved some one to dance with I don’t make the rules

Taglist is open! Just shoot me an ask, dm, or comment!

[useless-fanfictions]

Quick Save | Anon Prompt Fill

Glee | Kurtbastian | Fake/Pretend Dating | Trans Kurt Hummel

A/N: This was a prompt left on my google forms and the prompt was “fake/pretend relationship + enemies to lovers + pining +  famous friends for different reasons fake date for PR but actually have massive crushes on the other.” I hope I fulfilled your prompt good enough. I haven’t had a lot of umfph to write for Glee lately, but I am working through my current list of prompts. Thank you for reading!

read it on Ao3

<~~>

Kurt’s head was spinning. He thought he was going to pass out and he wasn’t sure how he was still standing. 

Oh yeah, he’s a professional— that’s why. He’s damn good at being in the spotlight and even if the amount of cameras flashing in his eyes makes him want to just curl up into a ball and cry doesn’t give him an excuse to act on it. 

The reporter in front of him repeats herself and it isn’t her fault (objectively Kurt is aware that the girl is just doing her job) but he fucking hates her guts. “Mr. Hummel, did you hear me? I asked what your thoughts are on the allegations of you being transgender?” 

He takes a deep breath and swallows around the dry patch on his tongue (which really only makes his throat burn more) and throws on his best, show-stopping smile. “I don’t really understand where this came from, but I like to laugh it off every now and again.”

His fake laugh is echoed by the few reporters and their cameramen trying for his attention as well, but damn this bitch is persistent. “Oh, so you’re cisgendered then?”

He grounds his teeth together, and before he can answer there is a presence at his right and he immediately knows who it is. It turns his mood even sourer than it was.

“Kuuuurt!” is sang into the side of his face before he feels a hand at his waist. “I can’t believe I couldn’t find you until now—” Sebastian Smythe chants with a charming smile, “—I’m sure it will be a while until we run into each other again, are we still on for dinner tonight?” He angles his body so that he can fake whisper it to the shorter man, all the while having his back to the cameras. He wasn’t speaking and softer so Kurt was very sure that they still picked up every word that he said. 

If not for the subtle squeeze of his hip, Kurt would have jumped back and screeched fuck no, I am not going out with you— but that squeeze was there and it looked like Sebastian was pleading with him? What the hell was going on? He wanted to say something, he wanted to ask the man what the hell he thought he was doing and what he plan was because—

“Oh my god, are they dating?” Kurt hears the scandalous voice from the crowd of people still asking them questions about their celebrity lives. Then it clicks. 

It was the same reporter from before that was asking all of those intrusive questions that was now yelling at her cameraman to make sure he was recording every word. She dropped the other story entirely. 

“Shu-sure thing,” Kurt stutters out only a second or two after Sebastian’s question had been asked. 

He flashes one of those signature cocky smirks, his eyes traveling up and down Kurt’s body (which makes him want to barf when he thinks of Smythe actually checking him out) and then he is sliding past him to talk to more of the reporters himself and it gives Kurt a moment to finally take in a deep breath that he doesn’t feel like he’s choking on. The phantom feel of those strong, warm fingers on his body won’t leave his head though, strange. 

When he steps back up to the cut-off line, close enough to get three or four microphones shoved under his face, the questions keep rolling in. 

“What was that?”

“Can you tell us more about your relationship with your co-star Sebastian Smythe?” 

“Are you guys dating? That was totally a date he just mentioned, yes?” 

He is a sneaky bastard and as much as Kurt has hated working on this movie with him for the last four months, he has to give the man credit where credit is due: he just saved Kurt’s ass. 

Sebastian found out about Kurt’s lack of being cis completely by accident. 

Kurt Hummel is one of meticulous care and his public image is something he has groomed and perfected over the years since his rise to stardom when he was only twenty-one and seven years later his secret has not been spilled. However, Smythe — the entitled prick that he is — had demanded it his turn to the dressing room one morning and walked in on Kurt when he was getting ready for a day of filming and had caught a glance at his scars. 

Kurt is not ashamed of who he is, he has fought long and hard for his place in this world, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let a little bit of bad reporting and transphobic media bring down all of his hard work. So he opted to come into this world of celebrity as himself: a man. No one questioned it until now and he has done his best to schedule everything tightly with his manager and PR people (who are really the only ones that know) so that every appearance is perfect; every shirtless photoshoot is appropriately edited; every day of his public life is altered to fit his narrative. 

Sebastian Smythe, in a moment of true honesty that had shocked Kurt, had sworn to keep his secret on the down-low. Of course, he hadn’t believed a word that came out of that man’s mouth (honestly, he had been tempted to call his manager and let him know he couldn’t finish the movie with this man and that he was walking away), but Sebastian had shown him over time that his secret was, in fact, being kept. 

Up until that look as Kurt felt pressure dig into his hipbone, the subject never really came up. Ever. Kurt remembers the multitude of questions that Sebastian had had the day he found out, all truly whispered so that no one could hear them, but once he’d prodded so much that Kurt felt the telltale pricks of heat behind his eyes that meant he was about to cry, the man backed off. He backed off, promised he wouldn’t say anything, and then left the room. It hadn’t been until their time to film together that he even saw the man again that day. 

Honestly, he thought Sebastian had forgotten about it because so much time had passed without his secret being leaked. 

Then he fucked up and forgot to wear a packer out one time (to his local coffee shop for his favorite latte, a place he goes all of the time without causing a scene) when a group of teenage girls had recognized and seized him. He wasn’t sure how they even noticed, but online people had thirsted over his new photos and the way he’d acted (all closed off and reserved even for him) had been a more obvious sign than his lack of a bulge. 

So flash forward a week to his next largest public appearance, the premiere of his movie, for the journalist to go all wild on the story. Thankfully the one from before was the only one to ask him about the topic now that the hottest scoop was that Smythe and Hummel were having dinner together and that they weren’t in character when Smythe had draped his arm around Hummel’s waist. 

The fucker was annoying at best and insufferable at worst, but Kurt was a little bit more glad that he’d been there when he did. 

Of course, he had to ruin the slight gratitude Kurt felt by persisting in actually having dinner together at the fanciest restaurant in town. “To keep up appearances, you know?” the man had said with a lop-sided grin that Kurt absolutely did not find more adorable than annoying. 

With an eye roll and a not-s0-exaggerated sigh, Kurt went along with the dumb plan. And if he ended up having a genuinely good time then that was no one’s business but theirs.

[moonchildsaurora]

When Monsters come out to Play

✤ Trickster!Hongjoong + reader (feat. Wooyoung) ✤ genre: Dead by Daylight AU // horror, angst (not really tho), survival mode ✤ t/w: sfw, rated M, contains: swearing/depictions of violence + blood/unhinged minds/death scene/mentions of weapons ✤ count: 1.9k+

a/n - have y’all seen Trickster from the dbd game? I would betray everyone in game for that man. So this piece is heavily inspired by that character & his lore, my mind is still reeling that the creators really did THAT. A few tweaks from the canonverse but hope you guys enjoy this wild ride! 💙

✛ play these vibes: Sub Urban - ‘Cirque’, P!ATD - ‘Emperor's New Clothes‘, Gi-DLE - ‘Oh my god’ ✛

Neon lights streaked across his face and dark ash hair, illuminating the silver that hung around his neck. Sharp kohl-lined eyes fixed on the two other figures dancing heartily around the karaoke booth, singing at the top of their lungs. Although one could argue that their borderline screams could be passable as so.

However, it was music to his ears and a hunger woke from its deep slumber. This feeling that was on the crisp of being foreign to him because he has not yearned for something this badly for quite some time now.

“I need it.”

The shrill cadence of the laughter from the figure who nearly tripped over his own feet, in a harmonious duet with the other’s. A soprano-like noise escaped your mouth when you fell from grace unto the lap of your newly-acquired friend who narrowly moved his wild berries cider out of harm’s way.

“I want it.”

You missed the rapacious glint in his eyes as you shouted at the other howling male, who was now in a heap on the couch and microphone dangling from his hand. You turned to apologise, with a peck on his cheek, to your angel of music. As you had so kindly dubbed him upon your first meeting. Peals of laughter fell from your lips when his onyx-dipped nails squeezed your sensitive sides. He was buzzing, not just from his drink but the sudden inspiration to create once more.

The spotlight has returned and centre stage beckons him home.

Yes, he wanted it.

“All of it.”

“C’mon! This way,” Wooyoung heaved sharply, tugging you with haste round the corner.

His grip on your hand, though sweaty, was desperately firm. Survival instincts had kicked in for the both of you, forcing adrenaline to fuel your exhausted bodies to run.

Agonised screams plagued the foggy darkness around your surroundings. Another fallen prey in this twisted game of cat-and-mouse you were forced to participate in. You didn’t know exactly how many others were stuck in the abandoned industrial site either. One minute Wooyoung and you were having a late night study at the local library, before the lights cut and so did your consciousness.

A manic laugh that echoed through the grounds and jerk of your arm wrenched you from your hazy thoughts.

Wooyoung held you close to him, signalling for you to stay hushed. He peered around the metal storage container to see if the coast was clear, not that the fog allowed anything to be visible more than beyond a few feet ahead. So he had to rely on sound and visual tracking of any sudden movements.

The dead silence was unnerving.

You had barely stepped out around your hiding spot once you’ve both deemed it safe when Wooyoung hissed in panic, “Watch out!”

You were dragged to the hard ground, scraping your palms on the gravel before what felt like a bee zipping past the crown of your head. The metallic thud caught your attention enough to swerve to look behind you. Where your head had been just a few seconds ago, now had a neon blade embedded right through the steel panel.

“Fuck! He’s coming, we need to go. NOW!”

The manic laughter seemed to be echoing all over your surroundings now, and not being able to pinpoint the direction whilst having to run blindly in the dark probably wasn’t the ideal plan for your survival.

Your breath hitched when Wooyoung’s hand suddenly slipped out from yours.

“Wooyoung!” you cried out for him.

“RUN!”

A forceful shove pushed you away from the initial direction you were heading towards, causing you to be thrown off balance and stumble onto the damp ground. The sounds of more cussing and a scuffle could be heard. You scrambled backwards, away from the source.

Scarce beams of moonlight filtered through the holes in the roof provided limited light to help you navigate your way around, using your sense of touch to avoid running into objects. Your mind screamed for you to turn back for Wooyoung yet the logical side of you knew he’d be mad at you for not using the window of opportunity he so freely gave to escape.

“He knows how to fight, he can handle himself.”

False comfort was the only thing you could offer yourself then. Skidding round a corner, you almost bowled someone over had they not latched onto your shoulders first.

“Please! You have to help me!”

The young woman was hysterical and dug her nails into your skin as she had her iron grip on you. Seeing her up close you were quick to notice both her arms and clothes were stained dark crimson, whether or not that was her own – you couldn’t tell.

“He’s going to kill me! He’s going to KILL ME!”

You winced as her voice became progressively louder. That fool was going to give your location away at this rate. You tried to wriggle your way out of her hold, which proved to be a wrong move, for she threw herself against you and shook you silly.

“Get me out! I didn’t do anything wrong. Why is he doing this?!” The tears that cascaded down her grimy face mixed in with the blood and left trails of red.

She sure was getting on your nerves.

“Shut it! You’re goin-“

“There you are my little mouse.”

The both of you froze. Like deer in headlights upon hearing that sickly silky voice purr out from the shadows. The young woman immediately drew back and hid behind you, as if you were a pillar of defence against this predator. Her hands that still clutched onto the back of your top trembled so intensely, you wouldn’t be surprised if the seams were to split open.

Hongjoong took his sweet time stepping towards you. Twirling those neon blades deftly around his fingers, metal glinting dangerously whenever it caught the moonlight. The scattered beams acted as spotlights and this was his stage to run. You’d thought a paint job had gone wrong for the mess of reds, both fresh and dried, marking him from his obnoxiously bright coat to his bare toned torso to the heels of his boots.

“Aren’t you having fun?” giggled Hongjoong, making a gesture to his foggy domain by spreading his arms wide out.

“What do you want from us?! You monster!”

Her cries added fuel to the already burning flames, ironically extinguishing out the last of your patience.  

“Call me something I don’t already know darling.”

The tip of his tongue darted out to lick the blood smear at the corner of his mouth.

That playful grin that had grown to be your favourite on him now looked so sinister. Hongjoong pointed one of the blades directly at you, “It’s time for you to join your little friend, I’m sure he’s already dying to reunite with you.”

“Don’t leave! Please don’t leave me!” the woman buried her face in your back. You didn’t reply to the woman but reached behind to firmly grasp her wrists. She mistook this for reassurance and to your relief, dropped her hands from your back.

Oh, how easy was it to lay the bait.

“What did you do to Wooyoung?”

Hongjoong might’ve expected you to be angry or even hurt, considering you three grew to be somewhat friends over time. Wooyoung and you had taken him under your wings when he was new to the town, and this was how he repaid you? Instead, you held his gaze and your voice didn’t waver when the question came out. If he was surprised he did not show it.

“I wanted a sample, of his music. It didn’t hurt…much…to get it!”

And the crazed twinkle reappeared in his foreign golden orbs, replacing the gentler brown eyes you were used to.

“And I want one from you too! In fact, both you and Wooyoung will be the main features of my next musical composition. I always save the best for the last, but…”

Hongjoong unfolded a fan of blades and drew his arm back into a pre-throw stance, “I’m just a tad impatient tonight and you’ve made me wait long enough angel.”

You found yourself facing down several blades making a beeline for you. To hell with the theatrics if Hongjoong thought he had waited long enough. You had done yours far longer, for the pure satisfaction of being able to rip the limelight away from one who thrives in it – in the perfect moment.

Within the few milliseconds you had left, you harshly yanked what you still had within your grasp to the front.

The applause died down and silence consumed the area.

Hongjoong tilted his head with curiosity and eyes widened by a miniscule at the scene before him. A choked gurgle. The blades had all found their marks on a new target and the corners of your lips curled up as you felt the life drained from the woman’s body before it went limp. Finally, the pest ceased to exist.

“Oh Hongjoong…”

There was a vicious edge to the tone of your voice now, and you let the ragdoll of a body fall into a heap by your feet. You bent down to pluck one of the blades from her body and nonchalantly inspected it. Not really having a care that the pool of red was starting to creep towards your feet.

“…Or would you rather I address you as, Trickster?”

A flicker of surprise, or supposedly irritation, passed over his features. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and slowly dropped his arms back down. What were you exactly playing at? This was his game, not yours.

“Word’s been around. And hearing about the Trickster perked our curiosity…so of course we just had to meet you.”

The puzzle pieces were starting to click together – Hongjoong merely became an actor in this script you gave him. Having Wooyoung and you cross paths with Hongjoong was a crafted intention.

Yet, what made the seeds of anger burst under his skin more so was the climax you denied him.

Hongjoong let out low grunt when one of his knees gave way under him, effectively bringing him down. A hand roughly grabbed the back of his freshly dyed silver hair and forced his head forward.

“When in the presence of the queen, you should be bowing. It’s only courteous, no?”

The dolphin-like laugh followed wasn’t hard to recognise who it belonged to. Another flick of his wrist, Wooyoung manoeuvred Hongjoong like a marionette. Thin, almost-invisible strings gleamed under the tiniest fleck of moonlight. Hongjoong would’ve attempted to sever his ties free but at what cost? Wooyoung prided himself in giving the cleanest cut each time he got bored of his new toy.

You scoffed at the nickname Wooyoung used, with slight affection.

“Hate to burst your bubble hon, but you’re not that special,” Wooyoung continued his mocking. Stepping aside to let you crouch in front of Hongjoong, he watched on with eagerness as you tilted Hongjoong’s chin with his own neon blade you were holding from before.  

“Little musician, you’re the new kid who strolled into our playground. And…”

Hongjoong’s eyes darted to look over your shoulder, at a few other figures who started to appear out of the dark. You tapped his chin to garner his attention once more. His golden eyes met your now, brilliant ruby red ones. A venomous smile stretched across your lips with your pupils forming into slits.  

“…unfortunately, there isn’t enough room for another monster to play around this part of town. “

“However, should you put on another show somewhere else…” suggested the one wearing a white crow’s mask, voice deceptively child-like.

You hummed at the idea. Fingers slowly tracing the playful grin that was already growing back on Hongjoong. It’d be a waste to get rid of such a pretty face wouldn’t it?

“We’d gladly come as your audience when you take the centre stage once more.”

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 4)

<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>    Join the taglist in here

The cold chains immobilizing your whole body were the thing you first noticed once you woke up. When your eyes finally opened, you observed your surroundings carefully, silently. Barely opening your eyes, just in case. Your teammates were equally tied up by your sides, and Bucky was unconscious. Loki, on the other hand, was looking around less confused than he should have.

“Oh, you did this”, you spat suddenly, realizing what was going on. Of course he would betray the team; it was all you knew about him, and history did not disappoint.

“What?” he asked, now confused. “I certainly did not. I’m trying to figure out where we are”.

“Yeah, and you want me to blindly trust you on this one? What did you do to Tony? A dumb potion or…”.

“He doesn’t need me and my magic to act idiotic, he manages that himself”, he said. Once he actually got to talk, he wouldn't stop, would he? “But if you need me to, I can try to make him even dumber, then he would have some idea to form a Dark Team. Oh, wait”, said sarcastically.

“Be free to give us your input on the crew, come on, don’t be shy”.

While you two argued, Bucky was gaining consciousness again.

“Look who decided to get up from his nappy”.

“Shut up”, he managed to say, looking around. He quickly realized where you were. “Fuck. I know this place”.

“Do enlighten us”.

“Loki, I swear to God, shut up or I’m gonna shove my metal arm through your…”.

“Where are we, Buck?”, you interrupted impatiently.

“This is a Hydra base”.

“Oh fuck”.

“Great”.

You started making escape plans in your head in record time, but then you realized; maybe you shouldn’t escape. Maybe you should arrange some plan to make the mission done from the inside. The chances of the stick being there were bigger than somewhere else.

“That’s a better idea”, resonates Loki’s voice in your head. You screamed, not expecting his magic. So he has telepathy, you thought. You looked at him amazed, and he smiled smugly. You realized, if he can access your head, then he could’ve heard…

“Oh yes, I’ve heard it all, dear. But don’t worry, I’m used to it. Many people find me... how did you say? Extremely attractive?”.

You blushed and looked uncomfortably to the roof, trying to get the plan straight, ignoring his mockery. But he kept going.

“Comparing me to a british mortal man, though… I don’t appreciate it. A Nordic God is way better in every sense”.

Your blush turned to bright red paint all over your face, and he chuckled. Bucky was observing the interaction fascinated. For him, you were two idiots who looked at each other weirdly and reacted to that. But as much as you tried to avoid him, he kept talking in your head.

“It’s alright, darling. I like to be praised, even at the strangest moments. Can’t believe you went for a plain ‘hot’, though. I think I’d be worth at least a ‘so hot my brain is melting at his only sight…”.

“Oh my God, shut up!” you shouted, interrupting his egocentric rant.

“What the… he didn’t say anything” said Bucky, even more confused than before. You were quite a pair.

“Yes, y/n, I didn’t say anything. Are you hallucinating? Did they poison you?”.

“I’m gonna choke you with those chains as soon as I get my hands free”.

“I would love to see you trying”, he challenged.

“Guys, can you pleeeeaaassseee focus?”, said Bucky, losing his patience.

“I’m trying to focus on making a plan,” you whispered. “It would be much easier if you two shut up for the love of God”.

“How could you not predict our ship would get hijacked? Aren’t you the brainy of the team?”.

“James, don’t make me spit on your face”.

“I’d suggest whatever ‘plan’ you’re thinking that would get us out of here, do it faster, because I don’t think they’d leave us here alone much more time”, said Loki.

“What? You afraid of some little mortal kidnappers? I thought, for a God, it wouldn’t be so hard to take them down. Unless you’re full of crap. You know, once in my life I finally think I’d be alright being on charge of the mission, you two had to be here, ready to ruin...”.

“Are you still planning on choking me? Because that would do wonders to my ears, to finally stop listening to you”.

“Can you two stop flirting?”, interrupted Bucky. “I didn’t think the worst thing about getting kidnapped by Hydra would be not being alone".

"But here we are”.

Bucky ripped the chains off him and freed you too, leaving Loki tied. The God didn't complain, and instead made the chains dissolve with a spell. You looked around again. A plan started to form in your head and you followed your instinct through it, knowing it’d lead somewhere good at some point. After a few minutes of complete silence, you finally have it all figured out.

“Tiny genius has an idea”, announced Loki, who apparently was reading your mind the whole time. You looked at Bucky and he nodded, as he made his way through the room, destroying every camera and microphone he was able to find.

“We’re listening now”.

“Alright. Look”. You took out of your pocket a whiteboard marker and started scribbling nonsense on the tiles of the wall. Loki and Bucky shared a concerned look. You explained the whole plan, head to toes. It included explosions, illusions of dead bodies and infiltrations of high risk throughout the building. But they didn’t seem fazed at the difficulty of the idea. “Any questions?”.

“Yeah. Do you always carry a whiteboard marker or just on very dangerous missions?”, asked Bucky.

“Oh. No, always. Anyways, what do you think of the plan?”.

“I think you’re nuts”, said Bucky. Loki was paying very little attention and you doubted he even heard your plan. You sighed.

“Look, Barnes. My poor self preservation instincts are what got me in this Stark internship in the first place, so if you’re gonna insult my nuttery consider how far it got me”, you answered, pointing at him with the marker. “And you, did you even hear it? What do you think?”.

“Oh, yes. I think you’re out of your mind”.

“Are you kidding me, Loki? You did worse things”.

“But I support your idea. It 's madness. It’ll work”, he added, and you smirked.

“Well, it’s better than the alternative, at least”, accepted Bucky. “So, we have an escape plan, but we don’t have an actual plan to get the mission done, you realize that?”.

“We can figure it out once we’re out of sight from the Hydra toys”.

“You know, I don’t know what is it with you, Steve and Sam, but you guys never have plans, and it gets on my nerves”.

“I have a plan, I always have a plan, Buck. That’s my part of the job. Just… trust me, okay?”, you asked.

“You’re getting kinda hard to trust”, he said crossing his arms.

“I trust you”, added Loki after long seconds of painful silence. You felt the need to ask him why on Earth would he trust you, when not even your best friend trusted you on this one. But he looked at you with a glimmer of certainty in his eyes, and you didn’t want to push it, or make it vanish.

When everything was already set, Loki made the highly realistic illusions of your dead bodies (it even gave you chills, but you wouldn’t admit that, of course not). Bucky ran his hand through the pavement floor at the same time that you threw your watch against it, causing an explosion. You three flew away from the impact. You realized you haven’t thought this part very thoroughly, since they could obviously take the impact (a God and a supersoldier, why wouldn’t they?), but you were a mere human mortal with no superpowers or super suits.

You couldn’t look around as you fell from the building, since the remains of the room were falling apart, and the smoke and fire from the explosion were overwhelmingly close to your eyes, but you could sense you still had enough time to find the button on your suit to get the parachute on. You just had to find the damn button, that it was…

Loki grabbed you instantly, covering you with his whole body before the impact, making sure you didn’t even get a scratch. Then you realized you maybe didn’t have the parachute back-up plan under control, after all.

“Well, that was bigger than I had anticipated”, you said, getting up from Loki’s tired body and brushing off some ashes. He stayed there and sighed. “Now we know where we were. 5th floor, apparently”.

“And now we’re not even inside the building, as we needed. Great. Smart”.

“You know, I’d say this is a win. We’re not being held hostage now, and we have enough time to recalculate the plan from the outside. Less risk of getting…”. But you were interrupted by the cocking guns of the seven guards surrounding you.

“No, please, let them finish their sentence”, said Loki sarcastically, still laying on the smashed floor. “getting caught, were you gonna say?”.

“Well, yes. But I think, given the current circumstances, that you’d differ”.

“What could possibly make you think that?”.

“Not the time, guys”, cut Bucky, getting up and knocking down two guards. You fought with one of them. Loki didn’t even bother in body-to-body combat, and casted them away, fading their bodies into thin air.

“Where did you take them?”, asked Bucky.

“The explosion”.

“Are you stupid? They’ll notice the bodies are fake!”.

“No, not the past explosion. The current explosion”, he explained, and behind him you heard a building collapsing in the distance. You didn’t even ask. What for. Honestly.

After a while of walking around and not really getting anything from it, Bucky finally asked:

“So, the watch. Is it normal for you to keep explosive reactive components in there, or was that just part of a very premeditated plan we weren’t aware of?”.

“Oh, it was just a precaution I have. In case of emergencies”, you explained. They decided it would be better to not ask you why and how could you possibly keep pulling weirdly necessary things in the strangest moments. Why would they bother. Honestly.

You touched your earbud, trying to communicate with Stark. He was supposed to be in the line at some time around that, but, well, you didn’t have your watch with you anymore. Gladly, he answered. He said he was getting the coordinates to a hotel room, and he’d take you three to a different place than the anticipated, far away from that Hydra base. You needed time to establish, refill energy and make a better plan. Better than blowing things up. You had some time to spare now that you were temporarily presumed death.

[nyrandrea]

Setting The Stage

My hyperfixation is set back on fnaf again in anticipation for Security Breach, so I’ve decided to write my own interpretation on how the game might begin! 

Summary: Gregory had always dreamed of going to Freddy Faxbear’s Mega Pizza Plex and meeting his heroes. But he somehow ends up getting more than he bargained for, and dreams start to turn into nightmares.

Originally planned as a oneshot but had to split it into two parts.Link to next chapter is down below! Also available to read on AO3 here!

Enjoy!

Walking into Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex for the first time was something that every kid in the world should experience, at least according to Gregory’s logic. 

And it was that logic – and a lot of puppy dog looks – that just about managed to work on his mom. Because here he was, finally standing in front of the colorful neon sign with his favorite animal mascots welcoming him in.  

It had taken a lot of begging and guilt-tripping but he wasn’t ashamed one bit, though his mother might have disagreed, especially when it came to the snivelling part. But hey, it wasn’t his fault she had worked late on his birthday, so she owed him. Big time. 

He vaguely recalled her grumbling about having to dip into her savings for this trip. 

So that meant that he only had today, and he had to make every second count. 

“So...” a voice spoke up from behind him. “Am I finally forgiven?” 

Gregory looked up to see his mom giving him ‘the look’, and to that he nodded profusely.  

“Good. After today you can finally leave me in peace,” she said, giving his hair a playful ruffle as they walked through the large sliding doors and into the mall. 

He decided to push it just a little bit further. 

“Can I get a Freddy plushie?” 

The little boy swore he could hear a vein pop. 

“I already bought tickets for the meet and greet. Do you know how much those cost me?” 

He shrugged. 

“A lot, and it’s coming out of your college fund.” 

“What if I don’t wanna go to college?” 

“Maybe you won’t get to after today,” she replied, rubbing at her temples. “Fine. I’ll give you ten dollars and you can buy yourself something at the store when we’re done, alright?” 

That was enough to cover a pencil, maybe an eraser as well if he haggled. But he didn’t argue.  

Both Gregory and his mom were suddenly blinded when they entered into the main part of the building as bright neon lights bounced off of the high glass ceiling and right into their retinas. Only once they were able to adjust their eyes could they really absorb the true grandeur of the place. 

Everywhere you looked there were people: from tired-eyed parents trying to find the next thing to distract their kids to enthusiastic parents who wanted to get involved in everything their kids were doing while filming it on their phone for their blogs. Then there were the snot-nosed teens who were bunking off school and several professional shopping guides with forced smiles wider than Moondrop and Sunrise’s combined. Everyone seemed to move in unison as the hall was filled with the sound of shoes squeaking against the polished checkered floors. 

Topping it all off was a massive gleaming golden statue of Glamrock Freddy proudly posed right in the center, singing silently into the microphone as soft music and wacky adverts played in the background. 

Suddenly Gregory felt very small. 

“It sure is...big, isn’t it?” His mother said, not sounding so confident herself. 

He merely nodded in agreement. 

Her son-o-meter seemed to be finely tuned as ever as she gently grasped Gregory’s shoulder and gave him a light but reassuring shake. 

“C’mon now,” she tenderly prodded. “We’ve got all day to enjoy the place so let’s make the most of it, huh? It’s not every day we get to go to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex.” 

This was true. Coming here had once been only but a dream. Now he was here, staring up at a brilliantly shining statue of Glamrock Freddy. And pretty soon he was going to be meeting the bear himself. 

His hand absently went to towards his back-pocket before he made a fist as determination washed over him. Looking up at his mom, he nodded. 

“And if I’m remembering right, I think I know the first thing on your to-do list.”  

The boy had already grabbed her hand as he made a beeline for their first activity. 

“To Fazer Blast!” 

 xxx

Trying to imitate the pose of the Roxanne cut-out that was behind the reception desk, Gregory pointed his laser blaster at his mom as she attempted to fit on his vest. 

“Could you stop fidgeting?” 

“But I’m practicing-” 

“Stop. Fidgeting.” 

He pouted before she struck him with that look again, which he pretended not to notice as he gazed up towards the lady at the reception desk. She looked about in her twenties and was using one hand to push back her long sleek black locks away from her face every five seconds while her other hand typed lazily on a screen. 

“So...do I just join a team or...?” 

It took her a moment to even register that he was talking to her before she flicked her hair back again just to glare down at him. 

“Sure, like, do what you want. It’s your game, you make the rules.” 

She seemed to pause for a moment. 

“You do, like, know the rules, right?” 

Gregory wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  

“Uh...sure?” 

“Fantastic,” she drawled as she focused her attention back to her tablet. “Your session ends in fifteen minutes.” 

His mother rolled her eyes and muttered something about, “kids these days”, but soon smiled and took Gregory’s shoulder as she walked him in. 

“Just remember to have fun, alright? Screw the rules.” 

“Really?” Gregory asked, his toothy grin twisting into something sinister as he got into the Roxanne pose again.  

“Just...don’t run and remember to stay within the walls,” she added on quickly. “Can’t have my little space man getting lost now, can I?” 

Gregory made a sound of disgust as he was pulled in for a kiss before she finally let him loose into the brightly colored arena. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare up in awe as spotlights of purple, green and red shone upon the various props and fixtures that decorated the place. 

 In the center was a giant space rocket that was surrounded by planets with neon rings glowing around them. The cut-outs from reception were scattered about too, though now they were humongous. Gregory almost couldn’t help but salute the towering Freddy as he walked past. 

He also noticed a room near the back walls. It was raised up to overlook the whole arena and was surrounded by green-lit pillars. It fit in with the theme of the room but also...jarringly stood out. Maybe it was a place for parents to watch their kids play, or perhaps the employees? 

“Hey Grogery!”  

That voice. That name struck fear into his chest as he swirled around to face a group of boys that had aimed their blasters right at him. 

“Never thought we’d see you here,” the biggest one said with a smirk. “You sneak in through the gutters or something?” 

“Hey... Bob,” Gregory casually greeted. Though it was hard to act so suave when he was trembling. 

“It’s Rob.” 

“Rob! Yeah...cool to see you too.” 

Learning the names of his bullies from class had never been at the top of Gregory’s to-do list, but then again it hadn’t been at the top of theirs either, clearly. But God, why did they have to be here of all places? Of all days, even? 

“Nah, his mom probably got him in here with all that hooker money she earns!” The skinny one snorted, making them all burst out into laughter. 

“She works at the hospital,” Gregory weakly argued. 

“Not what my dad said!” Rob hollered, still rubbing tears from his eyes. 

“So, what, is your dad cheating on your mom?” He sniped back with a sneer of his own. 

His grin soon disappeared though when they all suddenly stopped laughing and a beat of silence followed, save for the distant laser blasts sounding off around them. 

“The hell did you just say to me?” Rob asked, his voice dangerously quiet. If his brows knitted together any tighter then those pimples on the bridge of his nose might pop at any given moment. Gregory grimaced at the very thought. 

“N-nothing! Um...I mean- it's technically not cheating if your parents are divorced, right?” 

Rob positioned the blaster in his hand not so much as to aim it, but rather throw it. 

“Like I said, my mom wouldn’t even do that!” 

The pimples popped. 

With that, Gregory legged it before the gun could smack him in the face. He dashed between the walls as the angry voices behind him grew distant, he almost felt bad as he climbed through the holes and bumped past people, but hey it was like his mom said, screw the rules, right? 

However, it looked like the rules were starting to screw him when he smacked into a dead end. The black wall was too high for him to jump over and the only way out would be to re-trace his steps, which meant... 

“C’mon Grogery!” Rob’s voice taunted through the luminous hall. “Let’s see how many knocks to the head you can take before you bleed.”  

The boy swallowed a hard lump down his throat as he backed himself up against the wall and looked up at the Roxanne cut-out that towered above him, aiming her blaster with such confidence and attitude. With a deep breath and a firm nod, he did the same with the hope that getting them disqualified might save him. 

If not, at least his mom was a first-aider. 

“Hey...” A soft, almost girlie voice laced with a mechanical tone called out. “In here.”  

Gregory’s head snapped to the right as a hand – or was it a paw? – beckoned him into a dark corner. 

“Hurry up...!” The voice urged, and before Gregory could question anything, he saw four shadows creep around as the sound of footsteps thundered towards him, forcing him to make a snap decision and dive into the darkness, getting caught by a pair of skinny, furred arms. 

“Shit, where did he go?” Rob shouted as the group gathered where Gregory had been standing just seconds before.  

“Looks like he dropped his blaster,” one of them said as he picked it up. “Maybe he climbed the wall?” 

There was a sudden yelp as Rob smacked him upside the head. 

“Don’t be so fucking stupid, he’s tiny. No way in hell he’d be able to scale that.” 

Gregory stiffened as Rob suddenly turned in his direction, but he felt the stranger put a hand on his head, and strangely enough, it calmed him down. 

“...C’mon, he’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Rob finally said, pulling the group away. “He can’t hide forever.” 

After a few moments of waiting, Gregory let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. 

“Bullies are just the worst, huh?” 

Almost jumping out of his skin at the sudden chipper voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife, he glanced up with wide eyes as the figure gave him a little pat on the head.  

This was obviously a girl but with the shadows enveloping her it was hard to tell exactly...what she was.  

He could make out a pair of tall ears so...a rabbit? Gregory couldn’t remember any animatronics other than Freddy, Chica, Monty and Roxanne, as well as Moondrop and Sunrise. Was this a new character? 

But what kind of bunny would have such piercing red eyes? 

“My name’s Vanny,” she greeted. “What’s yours?” 

Feeling slightly relieved that she had finally let him go, he cautiously stepped out and looked around to make sure he was in the clear before turning to face her.  

“...Gregory,” the boy timidly answered, still feeling a bit unnerved.  

“What a swell name! It’s nice to meet’cha,” she said with a small bow, which unveiled a few more features like a bright blue bow tied around her neck, and an unnaturally wide toothy grin plastered on her patched face.  

What’s more, she didn’t exactly move like a robot, despite sounding like one. 

“Are you new?” Gregory asked, causing Vanny to tilt her head. 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve never seen you in the show before and...” he paused, knowing his words had already gotten him in trouble today. 

“And what?” she prodded. 

“Well...you don’t really look like an animatronic.” 

“That’s because I’m not!”  

Gregory flinched at her overly cheerful tone and stepped back as she kneeled down to his level. 

“Can I let ya in on a little secret?” Vanny asked, cupping her hand to her mouth in a poorly disguised whisper. 

“Sure...?” 

“I wanna be in the show. Like, I really really wanna be in the show. That’s why I made this,” the rabbit gestured to herself in an overly dramatic way; caressing her ears and cupping her face. “But I gotta prove myself first.” 

“Prove yourself?” 

“Yup!” 

Gregory raised an eyebrow when she didn’t elaborate further, but decided to put it to rest as he really wanted to get out before Rob and his goons came back. 

“I know a shortcut outta here,” Vanny offered with a tilt of the head, as if reading his mind. “Just take a couple of rights and a left and you’ll be as right as rain! Want me to show you?”  

“T-that’s okay, I should be good,” Gregory replied with a smile, though it slowly turned into a frown when she didn’t answer back, choosing instead to just...stare at him, her head still tilted, almost as if she were deep in thought. 

“But...thanks anyway...?” he weakly offered. 

This seemed to snap her out of her trance as she nodded vigorously. 

“No problem! And don’t worry, if those bullies come back, I’ll give ‘em a dose of Moondrop’s sleepy candy. That oughta slow ‘em down!”  

He had heard of that stuff, but couldn’t for the life of him understand why kids would want candy that would put them to sleep. Nevertheless, he nodded and thanked her again before turning, and hurrying away, a soft giggle echoing behind him. 

 xxx

“Where on earth have you been? It’s been thirty minutes!” 

Gregory was still a little shaken up by the time he had reached the exit, so much so that he had forgotten that he had been on a time limit. 

“Sorry, mom...” Gregory muttered sheepishly as she looked him over. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Glancing back towards the arena, he tried to see if he could spot Rob’s gang still wandering about in there. 

“Did you see a group of guys come out by any chance? Older than me. Kinda ugly...” 

“Now you’re answering my question with a question,” his mother said with a sigh. “But no. Why? Did something happen?” 

“No!” he blurted out, making her give him that look again. “We were just...having so much fun but then I uh...I lost them. Just wondering if they left without me or something.” 

Her expression softened a little. He hated when she did that. 

“No, sweetie...but I’m sure they won’t be far, should we go look for them?” 

Gregory grabbed her hand and started pulling her away. “It’s fine! The show’ll be starting soon, right? We can’t miss it!” 

“Okay, okay...!” she chuckled as he dragged her. “But first we need to hand your blaster in.” 

He stopped then, inwardly cursing at himself before smiling sheepishly up at his mom as she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You lost it, didn’t you.”  

Her tone suggested that it wasn’t a question. 

“Yep.” 

He yelped when she was suddenly the one dragging him away. 

“Well, we best make ourselves scarce then, besides we can’t miss your big show, right?” 

Gregory grinned. “Screw the rules?” 

She smiled back. “Screw the rules.” 

 xxx

They had made it to the main stage before the show began, but there were already big crowds congregating near the front to get the best view, and Gregory was having none of it. 

His mom kept apologizing to the angry faces and pointed looks as he towed her through the mass of people to get to the front, ignoring her when she grumbled about having to teach him some social skills. 

Gregory drowned everything else in the auditorium out as his wide brown eyes focused on the stage, even trying to balance up on the tips of his toes to get any kind of glimpse of brown, green, pink or purple. He had waited so long for this moment, and nothing more mattered than the next hour. 

Gregory wasn’t ashamed to admit that he squealed a little when the lights died down, it was just as well that every other kid in the auditorium screamed too, resulting in the kind of high-pitched noise that would make a banshee cringe. 

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” A mechanical voice greeted over the speakers. “Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex! Are you all having a fantabulous time?”  

The crowds erupted once more. 

“Rockin’!” Gregory gasped as a rough female voice took over. "Y’all ready to get your glam on?!”  

“Oh Roxanne...” a more feminine tone scolded. “Now you’ve given us away. Again.”  

Gregory’s smile grew wider, he knew this whole skit, next up would be- 

"I think we’ve kept ‘em waiting long enough, gals,” a graveled voice boomed out from the speakers. "Whaddya say, Freddy? Should we give the kids what they want?”  

The little boy almost couldn’t contain himself at this point. 

“I say let’s rock out!”  

The curtains suddenly swung open to reveal the animatronics in all their shiny, glittering glory.  

They were all 80’s themed, of course, to fit in with the aesthetic of the mall. Glamrock Chica had the typical pink leotard with green leopard print leg warmers; very popular with the girls. Roxanne Wolf was more unconventional with a striking red outfit, piercings and the mascot for the mall’s race course; she appealed to quite a wide range of people. Montgomery Gator was more for the chads as he had a rough and tough attitude with a love of golf, but Gregory did admire his red mohawk and star-shaped shades. 

Then there was Glamrock Freddy. The mascot of the Pizza Plex. He didn’t really have a gimmick as such but was incredibly popular just for how great he was with the children. The other animatronics were good with kids but Freddy was the one who seemed to pay the most attention to them, whether it be sitting down and listening to a kid’s story, accepting gifts from them to even giving them gifts of his own free will – mostly a plushie of himself. 

Management were irked by this odd behavior at first but when they saw how much cash he was raking in from meet and greets alone, they decided to leave it. Why fix it if it ain’t broke, right? 

As they burst into their first song, with Freddy singing into his mic stand and the other three playing keytars, Gregory didn’t even notice when his mother shook his shoulder and told him that she would have to take a phone call but would be back as soon as she could. There were some instructions on where to meet if she didn’t make it back by the time the show was finished but the words fell on deaf ears as he bounced and sang along to the lyrics he had spent so painstakingly long to learn. 

By the fourth or fifth song, the crowds had started to dissipate as parents took their children away to browse some more shops or to go to the food court for lunch, but Gregory stayed until the very end, cheering and whooping when the animatronics did their final encore and bowed as the curtains were drawn to a close. 

Fearing his chest might explode from excitement, the boy took a few moments to breathe as he tried to calm down from the buzz of electricity that was jolting through his body. The past hour had gone and went so fast that he could hardly process any of it, all he knew was that it had been the happiest moment of his life.  

With a huge grin, he watched as the robots were escorted off stage by staff and taken to their individual show rooms for their meet and greet sessions. Lines were already starting to grow long. 

It was only then that Gregory realized that his mother was gone. He looked around with a frown, she had said something about a phone call but...that had been half an hour ago now. 

‘She must be waiting at the show room for me,’ Gregory concluded, beaming at the thought of finally meeting his hero in the flesh. Or...plastic. 

Shaking his head, he made a beeline past Chica’s room, where mostly little kids were sitting on the floor watching the animatronic as she played them a song while others had started a food fight with the leftover pizza and soda cans that had been lying around the room, making the parents and staff grimace as they tried to break it up. 

Monty’s room was a little more organized and catered more towards older children as the gator showed them how to get a hole in one with a little golf stand while others played on the arcade machine. This reminded Gregory that the golf course was next on his list. 

Roxanne’s room was very high energy as the wolf raced around with the other kids with driving wheels in their hands while making engine noises. Though when one tripped up, she immediately halted and gently picked the child up, reassuring him that “Even the most rockin’ superstars get hurt sometimes!” and carried him into the back area to where the medical staff resided with a worried mother in tow. 

Stopping to catch his breath, Gregory finally made it to Freddy’s room, gaping slightly when he saw the queue nearly reaching the end of the walkway. He couldn’t even see inside due to the mass of people gathered at the curtains, forcing him to back up a bit and climb up on a bench just to be able to get a look in. 

The room was painted red and blue to fit in with Freddy’s color scheme and decorated with bright lightning bolts and portraits of the bear himself. It was also the least cluttered as there were only a few bowling bowls, party hats and – of course – plenty of plushies to give away. But what caught Gregory’s eyes were the assortment of colorful drawings that had been halfhazardly pinned to the wall next to the make-up mirror. 

It was true then; he really did collect kids' drawings! 

Reaching into his own back-pocket, Gregory pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and opened it up, smiling a little when he looked upon his own masterpiece. All the animatronics were singing on a stage on top of the whole world, with Freddy towering over them wearing a crown and rainbow cape because why not?  

It had taken him hours and an absurd number of crayons that he had ‘taken’ from his classroom, so a selfish part of him hoped that Freddy would pin it above the rest. 

A flurry of movement in the crowd suddenly caught Gregory’s attention as the stewards moved them aside to let the animatronic move in. He felt himself get giddy when the bear greeted everyone and gave them a sign of the horns with his clawed hand, to which all the kids mimicked, including Gregory from all the way in the back. 

As the queue started to move along, Gregory couldn’t help but start to feel impatient. Where was his mom? He thought she knew how important this was to him. 

Forgiveness was suddenly starting to come in very short supply. 

With a cross of the arms and a small pout, he watched as Glamrock Freddy took photographs, played with kids and even recognized a regular and accepted a drawing from her, praising her for becoming more talented every day. 

Gregory’s chest tightened up a little at that. 

Frowning down at his own scribbles, he didn’t even notice the tall figure hiding behind the golden statue of Roxanne that was trying to get his attention. 

“Hey...! Hey Gregory!” A familiar voice hissed. 

Startled, he turned to see that tall rabbit lady from earlier waving and beckoning him over. Blinking, he took a moment to look around to see if anybody else had seen her, half-wondering if she was some kind of hallucination at this point. When she beckoned again, he tentatively walked over. 

Once again, she was hidden in the shadows, but the overhead lights made it a little easier to see more details of the suit, like the stitches that barely held the mismatched creams and beiges together along with a few patches of crosshatched red. It was like the whole thing had just been thrown together. 

“Uh...hey...”  

It took him a moment. 

“Vanny?” 

She gasped and gleefully put her hands up to her grinning mouth. 

“You remembered!”  

He forced a grin, trying to ignore the bristling hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Sure.” 

She paused and knelt down. 

“What’s wrong? You look a bit down.” 

This caught him by surprise. 

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Just...waiting.” 

Glancing back, he could see the crowds starting to dwindle as time went on, but still no sign of his mother. 

“Ooh! What’s that?” 

He looked down to where she was pointing and held up the piece of paper that he had been clutching a little too hard. 

“It’s...um...just a drawing I made...for...Freddy,” he meekly replied, his cheeks heating up. 

“Oh wow! Can I see?” 

The very question he was afraid of. But she was already holding out her hand, so he couldn’t just say no. 

She seemed to study it very closely when Gregory handed it over. He started to wonder if she was having to squint through the costume’s red eyes just to be able to see it. 

“This is so good, Gregory!” She gushed, holding it up as if to show it off to everybody else in the mall. “You’re super talented! Are you gonna be an artist when you grow up?” 

He looked down in embarrassment but couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. Despite how weird this lady was, she actually seemed pretty nice.  

“Um...I dunno. I like drawing so...maybe.” 

“You should definitely show it to Freddy, I bet he’d love it!” 

Gregory perked up at that, but frowned again as he looked back over to the show room. 

“I want to but I can’t yet.” 

“Why not?” Vanny asked. “Ya nervous?” 

That was true but he wasn’t about to admit it.  

“My mom has the ticket for the meet and greet but...she had to take some kinda phone call and hasn’t come back yet.” 

“Hasn’t...come back,” she repeated. 

As Gregory watched kids and parents come and go, he hadn’t noticed that Vanny was staring right at him until the silence between them grew uncomfortably long. But as he turned back to look at her, she stood up and offered her hand. 

“I know a way you can give it to him.” 

A little perturbed by her sudden shift in tone; he looked at her hand but didn’t take it. 

“Uh...how?” 

“The VIP room, silly!” She said, her chirpy voice returning once more. “You know that one up at Fazer Tag? I saw you looking at it earlier.” 

The one that was high up, he remembered. But... had she been watching him that whole time? 

“That’s where Freddy and the others go for the secret meet and greets, where they give you their undivided attention.” 

Gregory raised an eyebrow. 

“I... didn’t even know that was a thing.” 

“That’s cuz it’s secret!” 

Okay, well that made sense. 

“Usually only the rich kids get to go there but I think you’re much more deserving, Gregory,” she said, holding out her hand once again. “You only get today, right?” 

The boy looked over once more. Freddy was waving goodbye to the last of the children as the stewards drew the curtains. He had missed his chance. 

He looked back up at Vanny. 

“What about my mom?” 

The rabbit tilted her head. “I’ll notify the staff so they can let her know, then she’ll come pick you up when you’re ready, okay?” 

There was a moment of hesitation but he knew she was right. He only had today and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he wanted. 

Screw the rules.  

With a nod, Gregory took her hand and let her lead him away to the Fazer Tag arena, not noticing that his drawing had slipped from her grip and she had let it fall into a crumpled ball as they walked away. 

xxx

So let me know what y’all think! Would you like to see a part 2? :D

Edit: Part 2 is now available here!

[michelangelinden]

A coffee order doesn’t tell you someone’s sexuality (but it kind of really does)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @iti-iskuna I WROTE THIS FOR YOU I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

this is a willex coffee shop au because there aren’t enough already! (Thank you @sunsetcurbed for beta reading ily)

(6.2k words, link for ao3 is in the reblogs)

„Honey, I’m home,“ Luke calls as he strides into the apartment.

Alex groans loudly as a greeting. He doesn’t want to get up from the couch. His position isn’t very comfortable – his face is pressed into the armrest, his neck at a very awkward angle – but he needs to lie like this to mope correctly.

“Why isn’t dinner on the table yet? What are you doing in the living room?” Alex lifts his head to stare at him. “Sorry,” Luke says quickly and comes over. He drops his backpack by the coffee table and Alex pushes himself up so that Luke can sit on the couch and Alex can lie back down over his lap. Luke begins to gently card his hands through Alex’s hair.

“Why are you moping?” he asks, scratching Alex’ scalp and he feels himself relax a little.

“You know how I work at the coffee shop down Wilshire Boulevard?” he begins and Luke chuckles.

“Yes, I am in fact aware of that job. Pays our rent.”

“Right. Get a job, by the way.” Alex turns his body so that he’s lying on his back and his face isn’t squished by the cushion.

“I’m working on that. Continue.” Luke starts pushing Alex’ hair out of his face.

“Anyways. So, you know how I meet a shit load of people every day. Like, we have our regulars, but we have a lot of new people coming in, too.”

“Let me guess,” Luke interrupts him, “cute boy?” Alex groans again in response and raises a hand over his eyes.

“So cute. You have no idea.”  

“You’re gonna tell me about him.” It’s not a question. Luke already knows what’s coming.

“I sure am, close your eyes.” Alex peers up at him but the angle doesn’t let him see if Luke actually did as he was told. “Are they closed?”

“They’re closed.”

“Alright, picture this.” Alex thinks back to the situation from this afternoon. “I’m just chilling behind the counter, wiping the same spot for like three minutes straight, ‘cause I’m so bored, it’s a Tuesday afternoon, you know the drill.” Luke nods. “Flynn said some stupid shit, as she does, I’m laughing, and the bell above the door rings. So, I whip around, a little surprised, because, you know, Tuesday afternoons are always super lame and no one gets coffee –“ there’s a bite of pain his side “– hey!”

“Get on with it.”

“Chill. Okay. So, I turn around and in walks this absolute god of a man.” Alex takes a moment to envision him again. “Long, dark hair, black shorts, a skateboard under his arm, tie-dye shirt that’s, get this,” Alex pauses, “cropped.”

“Oh shit,” Luke gasps, rightfully so, that has been a damn sight for Alex’s sore eyes.

“YES! And he just strolls into the shop like it’s no big deal, like I’m not dying behind the espresso machine just looking at him.”

“Did you greet him?”

“I didn’t, at first, I was too stunned by the inch of skin visible above the shorts.” Luke laughs because that definitely hasn’t been the first occasion that Alex has been stunned into silence by the looks of a cute boy. “But Flynn pushed me and I had to serve him.”

“And?”

Alex frowns.

“What?”

Luke sighs.

“What’s his name?”

“Oh. Yeah, I didn’t ask.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Luke looks down at him, his eyes now open and his eyebrows in a deep frown.

“It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the shop was empty! I can’t just ask him for his name if he’s the only one there,” Alex exclaims, gesturing wildly, before hesitating. “He’d think I’m a creep,” he concludes.

“But now he just thinks you’re not interested in him!” Luke counters.

“Good! He’s not supposed to.” He glares at him. “He’s a customer, Luke, I have rules.” He groans again. “Hell, I don’t even know if he likes men.”

“What did he order?”

“Vanilla cold brew.” Luke squints his eyes at him until he continues. “With oat milk.”

“He’s gay,” Luke says with a satisfied nod.

Alex scoffs.

“What? Luke, someone’s coffee order doesn’t –“

“Have you ever had a customer order a vanilla cold brew with oat milk that gave you heterosexual vibes?”

Luke raises his eyebrows at Alex, who frowns in concentration. Then he sighs.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Told you!”

Alex grumps.

“Maybe he’ll come back,” Luke offers, patting Alex’s chest consolingly.

“God, I hope he doesn’t,” Alex answers, but at Luke’s confused face he quickly adds, “I’d combust if I had to see him again.”

Luke makes his ‘that’s fair’ face. Alex drops his arm over his eyes again, trying to block out reality.

The front door opens again, a fresh gust of wind blowing over Alex’s face and he lifts his arm. Reggie’s face pops up in his vision, sporting a bright grin, but it turns into a concerned frown when he spots his roommates on the couch.

“Oh no,” he starts, stopping in his tracks, “why are you in the ‘Alex is sad’ position?”

“I’m not sad, Reggie, just gay,” Alex answers him tiredly.

“Oh my god, same,” Reggie exclaims loudly.

He lifts Alex’s legs and drops himself onto the couch next to Luke, draping them over his own lap. Alex turns so that his face is pushed into Luke’s stomach. Luke gives a small ‘oof’-sound in surprise but starts stroking Alex’s hair again.

“Bobby took me to the petting zoo to pet some goats and it was really cute and he was really cute and I was so excited and he took a photo of me and called me ‘Boo’ and –“

Alex closes his eyes. He really loves Reggie but he can’t really handle listening to him gush about his almost-boyfriend-but-also-not-really-boyfriend-but-actually-definitely-his-boyfriend while he’s still moping.

So, he tunes him out, presses his face further into Luke’s stomach, and lets him handle the situation.

 ***

 It’s another Tuesday afternoon and Alex is fucking bored. The shop has been a desert for the better part of his shift – he’s had like three customers and none of them wanted cool fancy drinks but instead something like ‘a coffee, black’ or ‘a green tea, please’.

Not that there is anything wrong with liking black coffee or green tea, but the least his three customers could do for him is ordering something fun for him to make that requires more than pressing a single button. Especially when it’s a Tuesday afternoon.

Flynn is on her break in the back, talking to her girlfriend Carrie on the phone, but Alex doesn’t mind that she left him alone; it’s not like they have anything to do anyways. And when she uses her break to talk to Carrie, the amount of time she spends to talk about her is much shorter, which Alex appreciates. He loves Flynn and Carrie both, but they’ve been dating for two years now and act like an old married couple which can get hella annoying hella fast.

He’s standing behind the counter, sharpie in one hand, drawing random doodles on the paper cup in his other. He’d started with a ghost, that’s his go-to drawing when he’s bored, but now it has four friends, three dogs, a small drum set, a microphone and two failed attempts at a guitar.

When the bell chimes and the door opens, Alex lifts his head and he almost drops his pen.

It’s the boy from last week – hair down, shirt cropped, a skateboard in hand.  And he’s headed his ways.

Alex looks over his shoulder to check if Flynn finished her break and magically appeared behind him but nope, he can still hear her giggling in the break room.

Fuck, he thinks as he turns back around. He startles when he sees the boy right in front of the counter, smiling at him.

He straightens up and clears his throat quickly, running a hand through his hair, almost tangling the pen in it. He drops it and it hits the counter’s edge before falling to the floor and Alex crouches down at rocket speed to pick it up. When he snaps back up he sees that the boy’s eyes follow every movement, his eyebrows quirked and his lips in a lopsided grin.

“You good?” he asks, his eyes scanning Alex up and down.

He clears his throat again, his mind scrambling for an answer for probably a moment too long.

“Yeah!” he settles on eventually, really rushed and with too much air to be too convincing. “Uh, yeah, sorry,” he continues, tucking the pen in the front pocket of his apron. “I didn’t have a lot of customers today, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t expect you.”

The boy chuckles and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and Alex could combust right then and there. Who gave this man the right?

“Yeah, it’s not very busy right now,” he says, looking around a little. He turns back to Alex. “I was here last week, though.”

“I- yeah. I, uh, I just didn’t expect you to come back.” Alex is so sure his face his bright red from embarrassment. Why can’t he just hold a conversation like a normal person?

“Well,” the boy starts, leaning his board against the front of counter, “I liked your coffee.”

Alex stares at him for a hot second before clearing his throat a third time.

“Anyways, what can I get for you?”

The boy smiles again.

“I’ll have a vanilla cold brew with oat milk, please. The biggest one you have.”

Alex smiles a little at the order but nods, punching the order into the cash register and picking up one of the plastic cups. He contemplates for a second, before pulling the sharpie from his pocket again, starting to push the lid off with his thumb.

“Uh, what’s your name?” he asks carefully. God, he hopes he doesn’t sound creepy.

“I’m the only one here,” the boy answers and Alex half expects him to frown, when he looks up at him, but he’s sporting a small grin.

“Uh,” Alex just says again and mentally kicks himself for it. “Sorry, I-,” he continues, closing the sharpie again and beginning to tuck it back into his apron, when the boy speaks up again.

“It’s Willie,” he says with a smile shining through his voice and Alex blinks at him. “My name is Willie. With ‘ie’.”

Alex looks at him for a second longer than probably appropriate, studies his long, brown hair falling over his shoulders as if carefully draped there; the small golden earring in his right ear, glistening in the afternoon sun shining through the windows; the mischievous glint in his dark eyes as he looks back at Alex. He decides that Willie with ‘ie’ fits perfectly.

Alex smiles at him. He flicks the lid off the sharpie, careful not to send it across the counter, and writes ‘Willie' on the cup in his hand, adding a smiley face after another second of contemplating and deciding that fuck it, he deserves a smiley face.

He moves over to the coffee making station, flipping the lid of the vanilla syrup open and swirling some into the cup with a skilled motion. He adds a scoop of ice and then another, filling the cup almost to the brim. He’s just closed the fridge getting the cold brew when he hears the boy – Willie – speak up again.

“Is this yours?” he asks and when Alex turns to him, pitcher of coffee in hand, he sees that Willie is holding the paper cup full of doodles. “Did you draw these?”

Alex feels an embarrassed blush creep up his cheeks and he looks down again, concentrating on not missing the cup when he fills it with coffee.

“Uh, yeah, I was bored.”

“They’re cute,” Willie says and Alex feels that it’s genuine, the smile noticeable through his words. “I like the ghosts. And the dogs.”

“Thanks,” he answers, not looking up out of fear that Willie might notice his blush.

“What are they called?”

Okay, now Alex does look up, looking at Willie with a frown.

“What?”

“You need to give them names,” Willie tells him as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Really Alex, why haven’t you given them names yet, huh?

“Uh,” he just says, unable to form correct words in his head.

“Can I name them?”

Willie looks at Alex with his eyes sparkling softly, the excitement clear on his face and if the plastic cup full of coffee in hand weren’t for him Alex would crush it for sure.

Can Willie name the doodled ghosts and dogs on his cup? Of course, he fucking can, he can name Alex first born if he asks like that.

“Uh, sure, go ahead.”

He’s so glad he sounds so calm because he’s totally screaming on the inside.

Willie beams at him and turns back to the cup, holding it closer to his face and studying the drawings.

“I’ll call this one George, totally the vibe. And this one – oh, that’s a cool drum set!”

He’s turned the cup over looking at the other side and for a moment Alex feels bad that he has to see his ugly drawn guitars.

“Thanks,” he says anyways, because yes, his drum set did turn out pretty good.

“Do you play?”

Alex’s head snaps up from where he’s pouring oat milk into the cup.

“How- how do you know?”

“You do?” Willie's eyes widen as he looks up at Alex. “Really? That was a wild guess.”

Alex can’t help but grin back at him, Willie's excitement over that revelation infecting him too.

“Yes, I play,” he tells him happily, setting the carton of milk down to not spill anything. “I’m actually in a band too,” he adds because a little promo can’t hurt.

“Dude!” Willie almost yells, leaning over the counter to get closer to Alex. “That’s so cool! What are you called?”

Alex feels pride and excitement bubble up in his chest as it always does when he gets to talk about his band.

“We’re ‘Julie and the Phantoms.’ Tell your friends!”

“Oh, I will! Do you play gigs? Are you on Spotify?”

Alex chuckles a little when Willie pulls his phone out of his pocket eagerly.

“We are, we have an EP out. You should check it out.”

“I definitely will!” Willie taps on his screen before he gasps. “That cover looks so cool!”

“Thank you so much,” Alex says genuinely. “Julie designed it herself.”

Willie looks back up at him, the smile still stuck to his lips.

“Who’s Julie?”

“Oh, our lead singer. She’s honestly the best. You’ll be so impressed when you hear her, I promise.”

They’d all been there when they first heard her sing. That girl has a power that’s not to be underestimated.

“I can’t wait,” Willie answers and his clear voice accompanied by his honest eyes tells Alex that he means it.

For a moment they just stare at each other, both smiling, a blush high on Alex’s cheeks, Willie still holding his doodle cup in one hand and his phone in the other.

It gets awkward after another moment because Alex notices the ice in the cup in his own hand hurting his fingers a little. He pulls his gaze away from Willie and down at the coffee, busying himself with slapping a lid on it.

“Your, uh, your coffee.”

He walks back over to the counter and sets it down in front of Willie, pulling a paper straw from the tall glass next to him and balancing it on top.

“Thanks, uh,” Willie's eyes flick down to the name tag on Alex’s chest, “Alex,” he finishes with a smile. “What do I owe you?”

Oh. Right. Money.

He glances at the cash register.

“$4.55, please. Do you want a receipt?”

“No, thanks,” Willie says. He pushes his hand into the pocket of his shorts and fishes out a $5 bill, sliding it over to Alex.

“Keep the change,” he says while dumping another $1 bill into the tip jar. He grabs the straw and his cup and slowly walks back towards the front door. “I’ll see you around?”

Warmth spreads in Alex’s chest at the thought of seeing Willie again.

“Yeah, definitely.”

Willie smiles at him and salutes him with his drink before he turns and exits the shop.

Alex stares at the closing front door for a moment, watching Willie place his board onto the ground and step on it, pushing off and skating away out of Alex’s sight. When he can’t see him anymore and it doesn’t look like another customer will enter the shop, Alex places his hands on the edge of the counter and leans forward to let out a loud groan towards the floor.

What just happened? Where did Willie come from and why does he make Alex’s insides feel like mush?

This – this – is not okay!

“Ehm, what did I just witness?”

Alex’s head snaps over to Flynn standing in the doorway to the hallway, one hand propped up on her hip, the other holding her phone.

“How long have you been standing there?” Alex asks, not moving from his awkward position at the counter.

“Long enough to watch you fall head over heels for a skater boy.”

Alex gets up straight immediately, holding his hands up in defense.

“I – I didn’t – I’m not in – I didn’t fall – You can’t,” he starts to splutter, taking a step back and bumping his hip against the counter. “What?”

“Sweetie, you had a whole gay panic in the 30 seconds I watched you.”

“What?” he says, his voice raising at least an octave and he clears his throat. “No, I didn’t.”

Flynn doesn’t answer him, just tilts her head and raises an eyebrow.

He groans again because yes, she’s right, he did have a gay panic.

But who can blame him, honestly, when Willie exists with his beautiful hair and his beautiful smile and he’s just strolling into the coffee shop wearing a cropped shirt and –

“Alex!”

His head snaps around to the source of the voice and his eyes lock with his friend Julie, Luke standing behind her.

“Are you okay?” she asks, one hand hovering in the air as if close to reaching out for him.

“Yeah,” he starts, but Flynn butts in and yells “gay panic!” over from where she’s standing behind the espresso machine.

Luke perks up behind Julie, his eyebrows flying up until they’re hidden under his fringe.

“Was it the crop-top boy from last week? Did he come back?” He comes up behind Julie to stand next to her, leaning over the counter to get closer to Alex.

“I –“ he pauses, glancing back at Flynn, who just raises her eyebrows at him. “Yeah,” he answers with a sigh, watching Luke gasp excitedly.

“Did you finally get his name?” Luke asks.

“Wait, what? Who are we talking about?” Julie asks with a frown, looking back and forth between Alex and Luke.

“Alex has a crush on a –“ Luke starts to explain, but Alex cuts him off.

“I do not have a crush on him!”

“Then tell me why you were staring longingly after him just three minutes ago.”

Alex gasps dramatically at Flynn’s betrayal, turning back and glaring at her, but she just glares back at him. He sighs again, turning back to his friends.

“So, there’s this customer, his, uh, his name is Willie.” He pauses for a second for Luke to start vibrating out of excitement about the new information. “He came here for the second time today and – and he’s so beautiful, fuck!” He slumps forward, burying his face in his arms on the counter.

“Oh Alex,” Julie said consolingly but he can hear her smile. He feels her hand patting his hair gently and he lifts his head a little, setting his chin on his forearms.

He’s fucked. He’s so fucked. And Willie is so beautiful, Alex just wants to scream.

 ***

 “No- no Flynn, you can’t – don’t leave me!” Alex argues as Flynn struggles to release his grip. “It’s 3.30, he’ll come any minute now!”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to be here!” she argues back, softly punching him in the stomach to let go of her. It doesn’t hurt but he gets the message and releases her shoulders. “I don’t want to watch you simp over this guy for five minutes while you stretch making his coffee just so you can talk to him.”

She’s calling him out and she’s right. He does take way too long making his drink just to get him to stay a minute longer. But it’s not like he’s harming anyone with it. Most of the times Willie came in in the past month he’s been the only customer and he never seemed to be in a rush, so Alex doesn’t feel bad for pouring the milk in very slowly.

And yes, she’s also right about the simping part, even though he really doesn’t want to admit it. He keeps staring at him when he talks about a topic he’s interested in – art for example, he really likes art – and has to be careful not to spill anything when that happens. It happened once. He’s not proud of it.

But every time he starts to ramble about something he likes his eyes start to sparkle and it seems like he’s glowing and his hands are everywhere and he makes it really hard for Alex to look away.

Willie got him to ramble too, one time, about the band and their music and when Alex looked up from the cup in his hands and at Willie, he saw that he had the brightest smile on his face, teeth shining and his eyes crinkling. Alex had felt the punch in his gut before his brain caught up to him.

Yeah, he does have a crush on Willie, there is no denying it now, as much as he wants to. But there’s not really much he can do about it.

So, he can kind of get why Flynn tries to get on her break. Still.

“I don’t want to be alone with him, Flynn. He’ll say something cute and I’ll start crying.”

“Oh my god!” Flynn lets out an exaggerated groan. “Just – be the responsible one and start flirting with him or something. Tell him he’s cute.”

“I can’t!” he says loudly. “I have anxiety.”

Now it’s Flynn’s turn to put her hands on his shoulders, shaking him a little while she speaks.

“Alex. You’re 20 years old, you pay rent for an apartment, you’re an adult, you play drums in front hundreds of people! You can tell a boy that he looks cute!”

Alex opens his mouth to argue but she shushes him.

“I –“ he tries again but she cuts him off with a “nope” and when he opens his mouth again she finally asks “what?”

“This is different,” he says, very softly, hoping she finally gets his struggle.

She doesn’t.

“Okay, how is this different?”

He groans internally. How do people not get this?

“I – I don’t know, I –“ he breaks off to heave a sigh. “I really like him, okay? I don’t want him to think I’m weird.”

Flynn tuts. Not in the annoyed way, but in the way she does when Julie is being really dense about Luke’s crush on her or when Reggie hurts his foot jumping around while playing bass.

“Alex,” she says slowly, grabbing his face and making him look at her. It’s a little awkward, her being almost a foot smaller than him, but her grip is strong and her message clear.  “He wears crop tops and buys coffee with oat milk. I don’t think there is a single drop of toxic masculinity in him that would make him think it’s weird if you call him cute.”

He stares at her, his head unmoving between her palms, as she glares into his eyes, into his soul. She squeezes his cheeks a little and he chuckles quietly. She smiles at him and releases his face.

“Here,” she says, looking down at her chest and removing the small rainbow pin from her apron. “Maybe this can give you some emotional support.” She fastens the pin to his own chest, right next to his nametag, and puts her hand over it once she’s done.

“You got this!”

“Thank you,” he says genuinely.

The bell above the door chimes and Flynn’s eyes fly over to the entrance.

“Oh, he’s coming,” she whisper-yells, removing her hand and turning on her heel. Alex takes a step forward in panic, trying to get her to stay one last time.

“No, Flynn, please,” he tries but she shakes her head without looking back at him.

“Nope, I’m already leaving, good luck!” She throws him a thumbs up before she disappears around the corner.

Alex stares after her for a moment before turning around slowly, facing the counter and Willie behind it. Willie smiles brightly when their eyes meet, his gaze warm and Alex feels his stomach flip from that alone.

“Hey,” Willie says, “what’s up?”

Oh, nothing, I’m just hopelessly in love with you, Alex thinks but thankfully doesn’t say out loud.

“Nothing,” he answers instead. He steps closer automatically and props himself up with his hands on the edge of the counter, as he always does when Willie comes in. “Just, uh, life, I guess.”

Willie chuckles at that, a strand of hair falling in front of his face and he brushes it back with his hand absentmindedly. Alex follows the motion closely and hopes Willie doesn’t notice him staring.

“Yeah, I get it.”

They both stay silent for a moment before Alex remembers why Willie came here in the first place.

“Coffee,” he blurts before he can stop himself and he leans back to get to the cash register.

“Right,” he hears Willie say and then the sound of him setting his skateboard onto the floor.

“Vanilla cold-brew with oat milk?” Alex asks, his fingers already hovering over the buttons.

“Actually,” Willie starts and Alex looks at him, “I kind of want to try something new today.”

“Oh, sure. Do you already have an idea?”

“Hm, no, not really.” Willie leans forward, settling his palms on the counter, his face turned upwards at the menu above Alex’s head.

“Do you mind if I suggest something?” Alex asks carefully. Willie tilts his head to look at him and smiles.

“No, not at all, please.”

“So, you like sweet things, right?” Willie nods. “Okay, I’d suggest a latte and we got this cool new cinnamon syrup that makes everything taste like cinnamon buns. I can make it iced and with oat milk, too, if you want to.”

Willie's face lights up and he nods excitedly.

“That sounds great, thank you so much,” he comments. Alex bites at his bottom lip for a second but then he smiles, giving himself a second to appreciate Willie's smile before turning to make his drink.

Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Willie leaning forward, his elbows on the counter and resting his face in his palms. He can feel him watching him work, observing his motions of preparing the espresso, swirling the inside of his cup with the cinnamon syrup and filling it with ice. It’s not really something to show off with, but if he could he totally would. When he turns to get the milk from the fridge he catches Willie's gaze, head tilted slightly to the side, and he feels a blush creeping up his cheeks. Knowing someone is watching you is one thing, but seeing it makes it more intense.

“So,” Willie starts to strike up a conversation, “what made you decide to be a barista?”

Alex huffs a laugh, taking the espresso cup and tipping it over the plastic cup.

“It’s really not as exciting as you might think,” he says, setting the empty cup next to the sink and looking at him. “I moved into an apartment with my friends, needed a job, saw that the café was hiring and applied and thankfully I got the job.” He adjusts the straps of his apron as Willie takes a short look around the shop.

“Do you like working here?” he asks when his eyes have settled back on Alex, now slowly pouring the milk into the cup. He’s taking his time, not only to not overfill it, but also to get Willie to stay longer, talk to him longer, to look at him like that for just a little bit longer.

“Yes,” he decides, because it’s true. He does like working here. “Yeah, I really do.”

“What’s your favorite thing about it?” Willie asks, his gentle voice showing genuine interest.

“Oh, that’s hard.”

There are so many things to like about his job. He likes that it always smells like coffee and sugar when he comes in, he likes it when the sun shines in through the glass panels at the front and paints the entire café in golden hues, he likes having his regulars greet him like friends and tell him about their day. And he likes the work too, making coffee, preparing desserts, talking to his coworkers.

But then he knows what to say.

“Probably observing people,” he finally answers, causing Willie to laugh.

“What?”

“Oh, no, I know how it sounds, but not in the creepy way.” He allows Willie to calm down for a second. “I like watching them being here as a part of their daily routine, you know. When they come here before work they’re stressed because they have somewhere to be, but when they come here after work they always stay to chat for a bit.” Willie nods. “And sometimes we have people come in here, order a hot chocolate and a croissant and then they sit here for hours typing on their laptops or writing in notebooks. And there are people going on dates here and there are many friends and families just spending their afternoon and –“ he breaks off, noticing how he’s rambling and spares a glance at Willie.

“Oh, please continue,” he encourages him, the smile on his lips warm and comforting.

“I – I don’t know, I just – I like the idea of being a part of their life, in a way. Giving them something nice to make their day a little better.” He looks down at the drink in front of him. “Even if it’s only an iced cinnamon latte. Do you want whipped cream? It’s vegan.”

“Yes, of course, thank you.” Willie straightens up, pushing his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He watches Alex add whipped cream to his drink, as well as another small swirl of the syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

“Ah, look at how pretty that looks.” Alex carefully takes the cup and places it in front of him on the counter. “Please appreciate it for a second, before I slap a lid on and smush it.”

Willie laughs but leans forward again to take a closer look.

“It looks very nice, excellent swirl, chef’s kiss.” His eyes flick up at Alex and he feels the blush, that has never quite left his cheeks, darken.

“Thanks,” he says with a short laugh.

“I don’t think I need a lid,” Willie says as he leans back again, “but I do need a straw.”

Alex nods, pulling a paper straw from the glass and sticking it into the cup.

“Voila. Now it’s done.” He pushes it a little closer to Willie. “Please try it.”

Willie reaches for it immediately, picking it up slowly to not spill anything. Alex can’t help but stare in anticipation as Willie takes the first sip through the straw. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a satisfied hum and Alex is too busy blushing hard to be proud to have evoked that reaction.

“This is really good,” Willie says after a moment, keeping his eyes closed and taking another sip. “Thank you for recommending it.”

Alex clears his throat, trying to get his brain to focus again.

“Sure. You’re, uh, you’re welcome.” He has to scrunch up his eyes for a second and when he opens them again he sees Willie looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

“You good?” he asks and Alex nods.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do, really. How much is it?”

Alex’s brain jumps on again and he moves over to the cash register, tapping in the order.

“$5.20, please. Would you like a receipt?”

Willie shakes his head, setting the cup back onto the counter and pushing his right hand back into his shorts pocket. Alex fiddles with his apron straps again while he waits and adjusts his nametag, too.

When Willie hands him the cash, dropping $2 into the tip jar, his eyes settle on Alex’s chest and a smile on his lips.

“Nice pin, by the way,” he comments, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

Alex, who thought it had stopped, blushed again, looking down at the rainbow pin still on his apron.

“Thanks, it’s my friend Flynn’s.”

He now remembers why he’s wearing it, too. Emotional support. For telling Willie that he looks cute. He can do it, he thinks. But he doesn’t.

“Here’s your change,” Alex says as he hands over a few coins.

Willie nods and a silence forms around them, while they both kind of stare at each other but also kind of don’t. At least Alex tries to hide it, but Willie's eyes bore into his face.

“So,” he starts and Alex can hear his foot scuffing the floor. He’s nervous. “Are you, like, an ally?”

Alex blinks.

What?

Alex didn’t hear him correctly. He can’t have. That can’t be what Willie just asked him.

He blinks again and a concerned frown settles on Willie's face.

“Are you – not an ally?”

What?

“I’m gay.”

Realization dawns on Willie's face. His frown loosens and he opens his mouth slightly.

“Oh,” he says softly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Alex answers, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Cool.” Willie pauses, nodding. “Me too.”

“Cool,” Alex repeats, to seem causal, but inside his brain he’s yelling gaygaygay on repeat.

Willie stares at him for another moment and Alex tries his best to stare back.

“I’m gonna go now,” Willie says, grabbing his drink and taking a step back.

Alex’s thoughts are a wild mixture of no, please stay, you make everything feel warm and oh my god, please leave, this is getting too awkward, but he doesn’t want to say either of those so he just says “okay” very quietly and mentally kicks himself for it.

So much for telling Willie that he’s cute.

Willie walks backwards a few steps before finally turning, holding his board under his arm and his drink in his hand, to pull the door open. Alex watches him, unmoving behind the counter. Just as Willie's about to step outside, he turns again, still holding the door handle. He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes in and out.

“Hey, uh, if I were gonna ask you out on a date,” he pauses, “would you say yes?”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

“Yes.”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

“Okay, cool.” Willie moves to leave again, before stopping once again. “When does your shift end?”

Alex can’t believe this is really happening. He glances back at the clock above the menu.

“In about an hour,” he answers, his voice raising at the end like a question even though he’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

“Okay, cool,” Willie says again and Alex laughs a little. Willie smiles at him.

“I’ll see you then?” Alex asks, just to clarify what Willie seems to imply.

“Totally.”

Alex can’t help but grin back at him.

“Okay, cool,” he repeats Willie's words and this time Willie laughs a little.

Willie takes one last look at him before actually moving out of the door, placing his board onto the ground and stepping on it. He doesn’t push off right away, shooting one last smile at Alex and waiting for him to smile back and wave at him.

Alex’s eyes follow him rolling past the front of the shop. He’s still smiling when he disappears out of his sight and Alex feels like his whole body is glowing.

He grips the straps of his apron, biting back a laugh.

This can’t be real, he thinks, but the condensation of the drink on the counter is real and the tips in the tip jar are real and the blush on his cheeks is real and the date – date – is also real. So very real. Holy fuck.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Ateez: Their Little Sister Is A Popular Idol

Kim Hongjoong:

Hongjoong and you debuted roughly around the same time, and fans lived for your sibling interactions because they were just outright hilarious. You would always end up yelling at each other or having cute little banters.

One day, you were both invited on a special sibling episode of Weekly Idol with other idols, such as Jessica and Krystal, Izone's Chaeyeon and Itzy's Chaeryeong, Oneus' Xion and Onewe's Dongmyeong and Ex Boyfriend's Youngmin and Kwangmin. It was filled with competitions and Hongjoong and you just seemed to struggle to work together. It was especially hilarious when you two played the 'Shout In Silence' game.

"Knock Out!!" You shouted once you saw the word, which was coincidentally your debut song.

"Huh?!" Hongjoong couldn't really understood what your lips formed.

"Knock Out!" You repeated, louder this time.

"Blocked cow?!" He asked, unsure of his answer.

"Stop messing around Kim Hongjoong! Think! My debut song! Knock Out!" You were getting desperate.

"Wait what!" Hongjoong asked.

"My debut song!!!"

But Hongjoong stayed silent, his brain trying to think.

"Didn't you watch it?! Knock Out!!!" You hollered even louder.

"Jumped Out?!" He tried answering.

"Kim Hongjoong I will knock you out if you don't get it!!! Knock Out! Knock Out! Ugh! Stupid!" Your voice was hurting at this point.

"Hey!!! I understood 'stupid'!!! I'm older than you!" He warned you.

Yeah, you had the entire set laughing.

Park Seonghwa:

As your older brother, Seonghwa was extremely protective of you growing up and that didn't change even after you debuted. In fact, his desire to protect you intensified. You often complained about it, hating how he was always fussing over you, reminding you to eat healthy and annoying you at times.

Seonghwa lived for it though. His members were even surprised by how soft he turned for you only. And of course fans thought you two were so adorable. Atinys often liked to tease him about it, often asking him about what he'd do when you started dating. That always seemed to annoy him.

"She's not allowed to date until I'm dead." Was his response every time.

Being Seonghwa's sister, of course you were beautiful, and a lot of idols had their eyes set on dating you. But of course, Seonghwa was always there to cockblock them. Even on tv, he had no chill when telling them to back off.

"Seonghwa have you heard the news?" The tv host asked.

"What news?" He asked.

"Well, with your sister acting in the new web drama, there's rumors going around that she's dating her co-star."

Seonghwa's eye twitched at that, and the other members started laughing.

"I don't think he likes that idea." Yunho chuckled.

"Any words about the situation or to her co-star?" The host asked.

Seonghwa looked to the camera for a few seconds before holding his microphone up.

"Over my dead body." He responded causing the members to go into chaotic mode over his response.

Jeong Yunho:

Yunho was the most supportive brother and he often said he was your biggest fan. Any chance he got, he'd promote you and your group, and was always dancing around to your songs. He'd even post dance covers of them, just to show his support. Every interaction you had, whether at music shows, ISAC or variety shows, he was your personal cheerleader.

He was also extremely clingy towards you, often hugging you, tangling his long limbs over your tiny body.

"Let go Yunho! You're squishing me!" You often told him.

"No! Let me love you!" Your protests would only encourage him to squish you even tighter.

Of course, the dancing genes ran strong in your family. Fans often praised your dancing abilities and were often wondering if you two would ever collaborate together to come up with a choreography. That's exactly what they asked Yunho one day when he was reacting to your comeback music video.

"Wow! As usual, Y/N slays the dance. She's getting better than she already was."

He looked at his phone, reading the fan's comments and landed on a particular question everyone was wondering.

"Would we ever create a dance together? Hmmm."

He thought about it for a moment.

"Honestly, I'd love to do it. What do you say baby sis? Wanna help your Oppa create a choreography? Just us two?"

He snickered when he thought about what you'd say when you saw his VLive.

"She's probably going to say no, tell me I'm annoying and to get lost. She has such a temper........"

He paused before smirking.

"You know what they say. Tiny creatures are more feisty cause their tiny bodies can't hold a lot of rage."

"She's going to kill you when she finds out you said that." Yeosang said from behind the camera.

"Probably. She hates being called tiny." Yunho agreed.

Kang Yeosang:

Although Yeosang was super proud of you for debuting, he kept the fact you two were siblings a secret for a long time and honestly you liked it that way too. You were both introverts and preferred to lay low.

Fans of your groups often compared you two, saying how similar you looked, how you were both the savage ones of your groups, even your little habits and love for chicken was extremely similar. Of course, both of you saw their posts and videos comparing you two, and you both cringed when some thought you'd be cute together. That's when you two stepped in and clarified you were siblings. Now it was fan's turn to be shook at the revelation.

And that became the topic when your groups were invited on a variety show. At one point, Ateez was complaining how Yeosang roasts them so much that they're scared of him and can't ever say anything back. You burst out laughing at that.

"He may be my older brother, but I'm not scared of his sharp tongue." You bravely admitted.

That's when the hosts suggested you expose something about your brother, like he did to his members on Weekly Idol. All of Ateez were super excited about the suggestion.

"Try your best. I'm not scared." Yeosang said confidently, but you knew deep down he was nervous about what you would say.

You couldn't help the smirk on your face as you thought about how to embarrass him.

"So my Oppa here, in front of cameras and with his members, likes to be cold and aloof, hating aegyo and skinship......not wanting Seonghwa or Wooyoung to baby him.......but it's a lie."

Everyone gasped at that.

"Cause at home, our parents are always babying him and he basks in their affection. He's always doing aegyo for them too. Atinys don't be fooled. Kang Yeosang is a literal baby."

Everyone started laughing at that, San and Wooyoung standing up and exclaiming that he was such liar and fake.

For once, Yeosang was so flustered at getting exposed, by none other than his little sister. He was speechless.

"Finally! The great Kang Yeosang had a taste of his own medicine!" Mingi exclaimed, having been Yeosang's constant victim.

No one had the power to make Yeosang scared like you did.

Choi San:

Your number 1 hype man, your caring brother, your part time manager, your personal photographer, and your cuddle bug, there's nothing Choi San wouldn't turn himself into for you. Would legit run a fan blog dedicated to you if he could. Is always praising you and saying the sweetest things about you.

Tries to get you to show off more of your skills and talents. You're shy and somewhat quiet, so people tend to look more at the other members, that's why San is always promoting you and encouraging you to not be afraid to show your true colors.

If you two are in public together, he's always holding your hand or holding you close. Yeah, definitely wants pics of you two to circulate the internet. Spoils you to no end. And he enjoys having you spend time with the other members. They adore you as well.

"Isn't she the cutest? The most adorable thing you've ever seen?" He gives you endless aegyo constantly.

"Did you just call me a thing?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

But you can't stay mad at him, not with that sad pout.

That being said, sometimes you do feel embarrassing by him. You're more reserved and somewhat conservative and so used to seeing cute San, that whenever he turns into demon San you're covering your face or screaming loudly.

"Aaahhh! What the heck San!!! What was that? Oh my god!" You screeched one day when you were reacting to one of his fancams.

"What happened to my older brother?! The one that carries Shiber around everywhere?! What have you done to him?!"

You grabbed your bottle of water dramatically and pretended to throw some at the screen.

"Be gone unclean spirit! Off with you!"

That's the one thing you two have in common: you're both super dramatic and so extra over the smallest of things.

Song Mingi:

He's the older one? Really? That's what everyone was thinking when you confirmed you were siblings. It's not that you looked older or him younger, no. It was your personality. You were extremely mature for your age and were often captured taking care of Mingi or scolding him. Naturally, people thought you were the older one.

Mingi honestly didn't mind. He often joked that he was indeed the baby and you were the older one. Every time you got asked why you babied him, it was the same thing.

"Have you seen him? He'd be dead if it wasn't for me. I'm the reason he's alive."

Mingi actually didn't mind you saying those things.

"That's how she shows her love. She knows she enjoys my company."

It was extremely hilarious for fans to see you guys spend time together. You two once did a VLive collaboration and it became a trending topic for days because it was extremely chaotic and funny.

"Mingi! I told you to flip the eggs!" You shouted at him.

"I tried! But it was stuck!" He tried to excuse himself.

"You're just a scaredy cat! Afraid of getting burnt!" You told him as you turned off the stove.

You immediately grabbed a kitchen towel and started fanning it over the smoke that accumulated in the kitchen.

"God! Mingi I know for a fact you have brain cells.....so fucking use them!"

Mingi gasped at your words.

"Y/N! There's a camera!" He reminded you.

You went wide eyed and panicked. Mingi began laughing at your reaction.

"Oh my god! You cussed live in front of fans!"

Mingi was cracking up so hard at what happened. You were so embarrassed by your mistake. You banged your head on the counter.

"Kill me now." You groaned.

Mingi came up behind you and hugged you.

"Hey don't worry little sis. At least now they know not to mess with you."

Finally, Mingi showed that he was indeed your older brother who was always there to comfort you when you needed it.

Jung Wooyoung:

"You're Ateez' Wooyoung's younger sibling right? What's he like as your brother?"

You often got asked that question and it was always accompanied by you sighing.

"Honestly.....he's a pain. I love him, but he's too much."

Yes Wooyoung loved you as well, but he was super annoying and his past time was teasing you to no end. Even if you threatened to smack him, which you did, or threatened to tell your parents, he'd still keep going.

"And here we see our tiny main vocalist getting ready, and like most females, she's going to take an hour on just her hair then spend 45 minutes on foundation, then-"

"Moooom! Wooyoung is narrating my life again!" You interrupted his narration.

"Snitch! Don't you know that snitches get stitches?" Wooyoung exclaimed, pushing the camera he was holding closer to your face.

"Bitches get stitches too.....Bitch!" You glared at him.

"Oooh! You! I should upload this to the internet and let all your fans know their sweet honey vocalist cusses like a sailor." Wooyoung threatened you.

"Do it no balls! Just remember who taught me those words in the first place." You smirked at him.

"......Shit! Why'd you have to inherit my blackmail skills?" Wooyoung said as he finally stopped recording.

Wooyoung was always reacting to your content though, often making fun of you, but he wasn't mean all the time. He often complimented you on your singing abilities. He was always saying you had the voice of an angel. And if there was something he was extremely vocal about was about any hate comments you got. He was quick and eager to call haters out.

"Dying dolphin? Who you calling dying dolphin? Have you even heard a dolphin dying? This is what it sounds like."

Suddenly Wooyoung began screeching at the top of his lungs, startling the member in the next room.

"What the hell are you doing on your VLive Jung Wooyoung?!" Seonghwa called out.

"I'm showing some bastards the difference between a dying dolphin and an angel singing so they can stop saying bullshit!"

Choi Jongho:

Jongho hates people acting cute, doesn't react to his Hyungs doing aegyo, and is never soft with anyone.....except you, his little sister. It was extremely surprising, even for the members of Ateez. You were the complete opposite of Jongho: you were tiny, cute, adorable, full of aegyo and were not afraid to show it off any chance you got. Loona's Chuu and Lovelyz' Kei had nothing on you in cuteness.

It never failed to amaze people how he smiled that bright gummy smile he had every time you did aegyo for him. The first time you did it was during an episode of Idol Room. It was a game of trying to get Jongho to smile, laugh, react to anything and all of the Ateez members failed. Then you came up with your pigtails and bright smile.

"Oppa! Why so angry? Can't you smile for me?"

The whole room burst into screaming and groaning when Jongho immediately smiled for you and patted your head.

"What the heck!" "That's impossible! He hates aegyo!" "This is rigged! That's sibling privilege!" "What the hell did I embarrass myself for?!"

Anytime anyone mentioned you, he'd immediately light up. He was so soft for you.

"Isn't my sister the cutest?"

Don't push him though. He's also very overprotective of you. Anytime he sees an idol staring at you too much, he flexes his muscles. Anytime the members said you looked cute or pretty, he'd warn them he'd split them like apples if they got too close.

Jongho nearly had a heart attack when he was watching your group's comeback with the other members. And it was because your group suddenly changed your cute concept for a more mature and sexy concept. He was flipping tables, literally.

"What did they do to my little sister?! What happened to her space buns and oversized sweaters?! Why is she wearing that short skirt?! Why are you guys staring?! Stop looking at the screen!!"

The others were cracking up at him as he tried to cover the screen with his body.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[twstwonderlandstuff]

Octo Love! (Reader x Azul!)

Original song

My cover 

In which [Name] gets a little too tired and goes on a sporadic singing journey.

It always feels like you’ve exhausted yourself to the max limit. Every day, you trudge back to Ramshackle, muscles and back sore from the work Crowley forces upon you, that damned bird. Every day, you collapse into the soft cushions in Ramshackle and fall asleep in 3 seconds, and after an hour-long ‘nap’, you wake up to see Grim sprawled on top of you, snoozing away (you’re always grateful for the ghosts you take their time to spread a blanket on top of both of you). 

But today… today was different. 

No, you’re still exhausted (come ON now, this is school and when does one catch a break from school?), eyebags visible, but this time, you don’t get the chance to go to Ramshackle. 

No-no-no. See, you’re broke. Very, very, broke, and you have to work, and what better place to get models, than working in Monstro Lounge, right?

Well, it depends. 

On good days, working there can be its sort of fun, with Floyd’s unstable mood swings, the business of the place, Azul (with his mafia-like nature) running the place to perfection, and Jade’s butler act, but on other days were simply dealing with that is too much. 

You lose all sense of logic and fear- throw that shit out of the window, dawg, it doesn’t matter.

Say it with me, loud in clear! LOGIC AND FEAR DOESN’T MATTER! Again! LOGIC AND FEAR-

“Shrimpy~?” Floyd asks, and you gasp in alarm, gripping onto whatever you were doing. What were you doing?

Ah, yes, cleaning Monstro Lounge after dark, right, right…

“Yo, Floyd…” You give him a weak grin, tiredly pushing the mop against the tiles. “I’m so… sleepy.”

“But you’re always sleepy.” Floyd points out, lighting up. “Ah, wait here, Shrimpy. I got something for you~” He quickly leaves, leaving you looking like a deer in spotlights. 

“Ehh… ah, whatever…” You mumble, going back to your duties. Oh god, the floor’s beginning to look like something entirely different….

“[Name]? Are you alright?” This time it’s Jade asking, his calm and soothing voice forcing you to rub out the sleepiness from your eyes. You know he’s not that concerned, but the verbalization is appreciated. 

“No, not really. Fuck, I just want-” You don’t get the chance to finish your complaint as Floyd bursts in, holding a sheet of music and a mic in hand. 

“Shrimpy~! You know when you sang that weird song?” Your eyes snap open for the first time, and your cheeks redden. Ahh…

It’s a song from your middle-school years, how embarrassing. You were talking with Floyd- well, to be precise, he was spinning and squeezing you about- and as he was spinning you, you began to hum a little tune. The eel picked up on it, and insistently asked what you were singing about, so you gave him the entire rundown of the song.

He giggled, saying how weird it sounded, but his grin contradicted his statement and before you could realize it, he dropped you on the ground and ran away, doing who knows what- and it seems that he’s…

“You… wrote the entire note-chorus- thing?! Based on what I said?!” You shout, skimming over the notes he’s written down messily. 

“Floyd, this is amazing, holy shit!” You gasp in amazement. “That’s so cool!”

“Hehe, sea otter helped me out! Sea otter’s too nice, it’s kinda annoying.” Floyd pouts, going to sling his arm around Jade. “Whatcha think, Ja-de?”

The twin smoothly takes the paper out of your hands and reads the notes, looking amazed. “Ah.. this truly is spectacular, Floyd. Good job.” He pats Floyd on the head, and Floyd grins at the praise. 

“What’s going on here?” Ah, the man of the hour, the head of the fish mafia himself, Azul Ashengrotto.

You might or might not harbor a tiny, insignificant crush on him. No, you don’t have secret doodles of him and you in the corners of your notebook, of course not! That very notion revokes the idea of logic!

But then again, didn’t you say ‘FUCK LOGIC!’ just a while ago? You did, didn’t you?

…

Well, maybe the crush is bigger than that. There might be a chance that it’s 0.1% bigger than that.

…

No, you most definitely harbor an obvious crush on the silver-haired bloke, and EVERYONE KNOWS, except the bloke himself!

“A-Azul, hey!” He waves you aside, used to the way you stutter when you speak to him.

 “Floyd, I believe I told you to check on [Name], not needlessly wave around a piece of paper,” Azul says, adjusting his glasses.

“But A~zul~ take a look! I, Sea Otter, and Shrimpy made this, you know! And I don’t wanna work anymore! I wanna play the piano~” Without giving Azul a chance to protest, he grabs you (and throws you over his back like a sack of potatoes) and the paper, and runs to the piano Monstro has, leaving Jade to deal with Azul. 

“Jade, set me down at once-” Azul complains as he’s handled similarly to you, looking undignified. 

“My apologies, Azul, but it wouldn’t do good to displease Floyd.” Jade chuckles.  “Besides, don’t you want [Name] to rest? It seems that you were quite worried about their health, fufu.”

Azul stiffens, a light blush adorning his ears. “I haven’t the slightest idea of what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, I must have misunderstood. My apologies.” Jade snickers, setting Azul down on one of the tables in Monstro Lounge, sitting next to him. 

You and Floyd are too far away to hear this conversation, with Floyd getting the piano up excitedly and handing you the mic. 

“Wait, are we going to play a concert? In the middle of the night?” You mutter, taking the mic dumbly. 

“Duh~ you’re pretty dim, Shrimpy!” Floyd snickers darkly, setting the music sheet in front of him and stretching. “What did Goldfish say…? Oh yeah, this spell!” 

After the spell was cast, the piano began to play a tune to what you’re familiar with. 

“Holy shit. It’s playing by itself?!” Floyd pays no heed to your words and began dancing. 

“Come on, Shrimpy, sing!” He encourages you, clearly having fun. 

Well, what’s the harm? You turn the mic on, and begin singing, moving your body for a bit.

“Ooo, we break the laws of attraction

Like you’re sent from above

Got a case of octo love”

Azul glares at the oddly fitting words but begins to slowly bop his head. Jade is smiling, stiffly dancing in his seat. 

“Ooo, we’re like a chemical reaction

Or a code you can’t debug

Got a case of octo love”

“She’s always turning to violence-” Floyd laughs particularly hard at this, and swings you around, leading you to giggle halfway through the song. 

“…’s so determined she’s timeless

And I’m so nervous I’m silent.”

Floyds leaves you be, and you pause in time with the music. 

“What if she finds out I’m lying?

What if she sends me home crying?

Why can’t I just be kawaii?”

“Isn’t that a term Idia-shii often uses…?” Azul mutters. Floyd comes closer to Jade and Azul, picking the latter up. 

“Wait wait wait-!” 

“Too late, Azul~” He plonks Azul, next to you, and you give him a grin. 

“Baby, baby, baby, you’re so fine-” You scream into the mic, clutching it like a madman. 

Mew mew kissy cutie, you’ll be mine-

Crushing, crushing, crushing, on AZUL-” 

The octopus freezes in shock, as you continue with the very, very fitting lyrics. Floyd’s going absolutely ham, doing some sort of ska dance with his twin as he laughs at your mistake. (RIP all the other members of Octavinelle). 

“Oh, did I say that out-”

No, did I say that out loud?!” You, being dramatic, clutches Azul’s hands and shake them, seemingly unaware of what you’ve said. 

The octopus face reddens almost immediately when you swing his arms as children do.

“Ooo, we break the laws of attraction

Like you’re sent from up above

Got a case of octo love”

The poor dorm leader would like to hide under his octopod forever now, thank you very much. 

“Ooo, we’re like an improper fraction

Hope this ship gets safe to shore

Though I’m quite unsure”

“Come on shrimpy, join us!” Floyd grabs you and Azul, and together, the 4 of you began dancing in a circle as the Dance Break ensues, your and Azul’s hands holding each other. Azul just repeatedly wants to die of shame and embarrassment. 

“She’s always turning to violence

I’m always turning to science

She’s so determined she’s timeless 

And I’m so nervous I’m silent.”

You lot stop spinning, dizzy, and out of breath as Floyd takes the mic and sings into it, surprisingly melodious (well, maybe it’s not THAT much of a surprise. He IS from the sea, after all.)

“What if she finds out I’m lying?

What if she sends me home crying?

Why can’t I just be kawaii?

And then I’m like…”

Jade takes the microphone, seemingly knowing the lyrics, and sings into it, making you cheer as you press close to him. 

“Baby, baby, baby, you’re so fine

Mew mew kissy cutie, you’ll be mine-”

You grab the mic back, spinning in place. 

Crushing, crushing, crushing on Azul-”

You point towards the dorm leader, who’s taken to sitting on the floor of Monstro Lounge and hiding most of his face with his hands, excluding his eyes, and come near him, getting your face a little too close to his liking. 

“And so I shout it out!” 

And so I shout it out loud!”

You grab Azul by the hand and drag him towards you, skillfully keeping him balanced. He can’t help but wonder, Where was this energy when you were working?

You began to do a sort of impromptu couple dance, your exhausted giggles and laughs slipping in and Azul sighs at the silliness of it all, but… he smiles genuinely. 

You look so plaintively happy here that he can’t help it, you know?

“Ooo, we’re like a warrior in action

Fit together like a glove-”

You shove the mic into his face, and he, in a low voice, murmurs. 

“Got a case of octo love…”

You gasp dramatically, looking like you didn’t notice him. 

“OOOOH MY GOD HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN STANDING THERE?!”

“I’ve been right here the whole time…” He mutters, a little confused. Is this part of the song, or something?

“Ok, now I want to die.” You say, deadpan. The twins, who were back to their own ska dance thing, grabs the mic from you and pulls you and Azul by the arms (again). The four of you began to sing in harmony (as harmonious as you can get, anyway). 

“Ooo, we break the laws of attraction-”

You eagerly grab the mic back.  “A duet will maybe do... cuz I invited Floyd and Jade too!”

“Hehe, of course, you did, Shrimpy~”

“Smooshed together like a bug!!”

“Got a case of Octo love~”

You let out a huge laugh, giggling and snickering as Jade sets you down, catching your breath. 

“That was… fun…! But now, I...holy shit… I’m tired…” You gasp in exhaustion, falling flat onto one of the couches and quickly began to fall asleep, but-

“Ne, Shrimpy?”

With the last bit of your strength, you open your eyes just a tiny bit. “Wha..?”

“D’ya realize what ya said?” Floyd’s grin is wide like he was about to tease the SHIT out of you or use you in some way. He flops on the floor and leans onto your leg. 

“The song, yeah?”

“Hihihi, Shrimpy~,” The twin says. “You’ll see tomorrow~ goodnight.” He says quietly, a quick change of mood. 

“Sleep tight.” Jade laughs, sitting down next to you and putting his head back. 

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” Azul finishes, sitting a bit further away from the 3 of you. 

“G’night.” Not a second later, and you are asleep, breathing softly.

*

“Ne, ne, Azul~? Watcha think of Shrimpy’s confession?”

“Th-that wasn’t a confession! It was a slip of the tongue.”

“Eh. You’re still gonna deny that. That’s cowardly, Azul~ Even Shrimpy knows better than that.”

“I must agree. Honestly, to think that you were beaten to confessing. And most oddly, too.”

“I...um…”

*The Leech twins grin widely at Azul’s clamming up. 

“Hmm~?”

“J-just leave me be!”

*With a face as red as tomatoes, Azul leaves, assuming to hide in his octo pot. 

[Thanks v much for reading! This is a better version of what I put out yesterday because god damn, that was disgraceful.]

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Black lace and property damage

Summary: With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side. Bucky’s officially starting to panic.  

Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: SMUT, 18+. Sweet sex, awkward sex, some dirty sex, some sex on a car. Basically sex. Swearing. Bucky wearing a white t-shirt and dog tags. My sketchy automotive knowledge.

A/N: This story is sort of an ode to anyone struggling to make time for your person. Life gets busy, so don’t be afraid to get creative. Also sometimes sex goes smooth and perfect, but often it comes with mishaps and giggles. Both ways are great, Bucky says just roll with it!

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

The porch light above the front door is out.

Was he supposed to change that before he left?

--

“I’m not touching it Bucky, there are spiders up there. Big ones. The kind that give you rabies.”

“Spiders don’t have rabies.”

“No one’s ever proven that.”

--

Dammit. Yeah, he was.

Picturing you stumbling up the porch, using the pathetic flashlight on your phone to light the way, Bucky feels like a world class, Grade A jackass. He needs to make it up to you.

Good thing he has plenty of ideas for that.

“Please be home,” he mutters, “please be home, please dear god be fucking home.”

Fingers crossed, he kicks the door open and calls out a hopeful hello.

An empty echo returns.

Bucky blows out a frustrated breath.

Figures.

Slogging down the dark hallway, he slings his bag on the kitchen table with a thud. Grenade pins, bullet casings, fun size candy bar wrappers, and handfuls of beer bottle caps rattle loose in the army green canvas and he grimaces.

One of these days, maybe, just fucking maybe, he’ll convince Natasha to stop using his bags as her garbage bin.

Ignoring that disaster zone (a problem for future Bucky), he wanders over to the sink, where he spies a small tableau on the counter. Propped up beside his favorite coffee mug, the one with sparkly pink letters proclaiming “Bitch, I’m Fabulous”, is a folded piece of paper, his name scrawled across the front.

He flips it open.

“Hey Bucky Bear. Don’t let your sexy ass fall asleep before I get home, I have a surprise!”

Drawn under your bubbly letters, he finds two stick figures entangled in an outrageously lewd sex act. Tracing tender fingers over the very obviously male stick figure (you never were very subtle), he grins so hard his cheeks ache. Leaning on the counter, he sniffs the letter because he’s a sentimental sap and it smells like your Cherry-Almond lotion, and drops his head in his arms.

“So tired,” he whines softly, voice muffled against sleek granite.

Three weeks. That was the last mission. Three weeks, even though Steve guaranteed Bucky three days max. Of course, two days into the mission Bucky remembered that Steve Rogers is an accomplished liar, so instead he spent three exhausting weeks dodging bullets, rewashing all his underwear, and hysterically rationing his bag of fun size candy bars.

Finally home, he wants to forget everything and sink into the post-mission domesticity he dreams about when he’s stuck in some dank motel on the corner of Fuck This and No One Cares. The routine is simple. A scalding hot shower, burrito wrapping himself in the feather duvet, making out with you for a few hours, taking a break to eat some pizza, and then fucking you so hard he breaks the brand new headboard he made for you last month (actually the third headboard he’s made...a fact he smugly reports to anyone and everyone).

And after all that fun, he wants to sleep. Maybe two full days. Or five. Tops.

Is that asking too much?

“No,” he sighs out loud. “It’s not.”

Carefully folding the cartoon and your sweet message, he kisses the paper and tucks it in his back pocket.

No way he’s falling asleep before he sees you. Nope. Nada. Negative. Totally not happening.

Pepping himself up, he goes to work, whizzing through his homecoming task list.

Blood-stained tac clothes go in the washer with three cups of bleach. Guns and knives are wiped down and polished. The contents of the dirty green canvas bag are unceremoniously trashed. The spider infested porch light is changed (with only three furry sightings). The shower is set to a blistering temp and he hangs out in there for an hour, soaping his hair into a foamy mohawk, belting out a few showtunes with his shampoo bottle microphone.

Scrubbed fresh and clean, he flops on the bed with his Starkpad and opens up Netflix, searching for something to keep him awake. Several scrolls later, he finds Brooklyn 99 and settles in for a laugh.

Confident in his ability to resist the appealing pull of sleep scratching at his brain, he takes a slurp of the Super Double Big Gulp sized coffee on his nightstand and stretches his eyes wide open.

Staying awake. Piece of cake.

Ten minutes later, Bucky’s fast asleep.

*****

When his eyes pop open, the room is dark. He feels tipsy, sleep drunk on his first uninterrupted hours of rest in weeks.

Beside him, he feels the cozy pressure of another body. Glancing down, he finds you curled under the sheets at his side, your face smushed against his arm, steady breaths fogging the gleaming metal.

Asleep.

Bucky grits his teeth. Squeezes his eyes shut. One thing. You asked him to do one thing.

God. Dammit.

Furious with his lame old man ass, he almost wakes you up. Almost. But then he swallows that desire and thinks.

Before he got married, Bucky read every relationship advice book under the sun. He gets the importance of keeping the romance alive. He knows you need to cherish your person, make them a priority, shower them with love. He knows. He gets it. He watches Oprah, for fuck’s sake. Relationships take work.

But lately? This is life.

With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side.

Bucky’s officially starting to panic.

Although, he muses, eyes lingering on the innocent curve of your mouth, the chaos has forced both of you to get more…creative.

He grins.

It was you who instigated it the first time. He was lying in a dingy motel bed when you nervously offered.

--

“Hey, um…do think maybe you’d…like…would you…uh…”

“Spit it out babe.”

“Doyouwannatryphonesex?”

--

An anxious slur so fast, he nearly misses the question. He remembers that beat of hesitation, before you dove in headfirst, telling him in obscenely explicit detail exactly what you wanted to do to him. He was so shocked he dropped the phone and had to naked crawl under the grimy mattress to fish it out.

He must’ve jerked off five times that night. Replaying your filthy words. Remembering the quiet whimpers as you came on your fingers, gasping out his name. What a treat.

Sexting soon followed, accompanied by a plethora of nudes. None from you of course, because as you always remind him, you’re a lady, but Bucky? He gets irrational joy from sending them. They come in a variety of close-ups and poses, several which Sam accidentally discovered when he walked in on Bucky prancing around naked, searching for his best angle.

Sam always knocks now.

But sometimes words and pictures aren’t enough. Sometimes you need the soothing weight of someone in your arms. The scent of sweaty skin beneath your nose. Hot breaths of pleasure in your ear and the touch of a cool tongue licking across a heated body.

Sometimes he just needs you.

Could he wake you up? Sure. He knows you wouldn’t mind, you’ve told him a thousand times. But he also knows how tired you’ve been, and he can’t bring himself to shake you awake, selfishly stealing those bits of recovery you need.

So instead, he searches for something to keep him occupied.

He tries reading Game of Thrones again and gets nowhere. Thinks yet again someone needs to get George R.R. Martin an editor.

He flicks on his phone and covertly watches PornHub on mute. Seriously debates whether he can get away with jerking off while you’re sleeping because hey, Bucky Barnes is nothing if not stealthy.

He stares up at the ceiling and tries to see how long he can hold his breath. He gets 2 minutes and 8 seconds (a new record) before giving up.

In the end, he rolls onto his side stares intently at you. Wills you to wake up on your own. Come on baby, please.

But nothing works, and when sleep still doesn’t come, he decides to be productive. Crawling carefully from the bed, he smothers a laugh when you curl instantly into the warm mattress dip of his body, burrowing further under the blankets and unconsciously stealing his pillow. Most mornings Bucky wakes up hanging off the bed, no blankets or pillows to his name, while you’re swathed in comfort, cold toes shoved beneath his belly.

Maybe he should be annoyed. Except every time he looks at you, he forgets how to scowl.

Love is weird.

Rummaging silently through the closet, he unearths a threadbare pair of jeans and an oil stained t-shirt, slips into his worn leather boots. He drops a light kiss on your forehead, brushing a finger down the curve of your neck. Smiles to himself when you snuffle a quiet snore.

And he heads out the backdoor, down the weatherworn brick to the garage out back.

It was an added bonus when he bought the house. An unanticipated domestic perk. Hell, he never thought he’d find someone would actually date him, let alone someone who wanted to marry him and buy a house with him and accept his penchant for hoarding things in a rickety old garage (come on, I grew up in the Depression and I need this, he whines every time you take him to Target).  

Thank god you said yes. He’s the luckiest jerk in the world.

Flicking on the garage light, Bucky still gets a little thrill. The entire place is an homage to eclectic, random artifacts, from the box of ugly 1970s vases he found at a flea market, to the fishing equipment he insisted on buying and has yet to use, to the sack of broken seashells you drunkenly collected on your honeymoon in Costa Rica.

In the midst of the swirl sits his pride and joy. Cherry red paint, black leather seats, a tad dusty, full of potential.

The 1969 Camaro looks like a teenage wet dream.

He remembers the day he brought it home, that surge of macho pride when your eyes lit up. After you slapped his ass and told him how sexy the car was, he reveled in your admiration for maybe 10 seconds, before hauling you back to the house and under the sheets. Took several hours before you both came up for air.

That was a good time, he thinks dreamily.

The car attracted his friends as well. Sam and Steve brought over a celebratory case of beer and stood by while Bucky explained the changes he had planned. Steve gave a few sage nods, while Sam helpfully threw out words like fuel injector now and then. Neither had a fucking clue what was happening, but Bucky graciously let them fake it.

Tony also saw the car once. Got a fervent gleam in his eye and started to say the phrase jet fuel, before Bucky ushered him out the door. Tony doesn’t get to see the car anymore.

There are still plenty of fixes to make, but for tonight he takes it easy. Flips on the ancient radio perched above the workbench and flops down on a rolling seat, sliding under the Camaro to tinker around. He goes to work, lets the crackle of the radio and the mechanical puzzle lull him into focus mode.  

So intent on the task at hand, he barely hears the garage door opening.

The click of a shoe alerts him too late and he freezes, gripping his wrench tight. Muscles tense, garage floor plans and fight scenarios flooding his brain.

“Bucky? Do you have a sec?”

His breath whooshes in relief at your voice. A silly grin bubbles up because you’re finally awake, until he tilts his head sideways, peering out from under the car to see your feet.

Black high heels.

Stomach sinking, Bucky closes his eyes. Back to work then. Motherfucker. He missed his chance again.

Swallowing down the bitter disappointment, he croaks out a plea.

“Hey babe, do you gotta go back to the office so soon? Can you just - “

Click click and you step between his legs. Firm hands clutch the oil stained fabric at his knees and you pull. The seat rolls easily and he slides free, squinting up at you in the dim light.

The words die on his lips.

Black high heels, yes.

And.

Lacy black underwear, the sides held together with thick satin ribbons. A lacy black bra, your breasts threatening to spill out.

Gorgeous, devilish smile.

Fingering the wide satin bow between your breasts, you tease a light tug and Bucky starts sweating like a virgin on prom night. His wrench slips from numb fingers, thunking him in the nuts and clattering away.

“Shit,” he grunts. There’s a moment of confusion on whether the fresh ache in his balls is from the punch of the wrench, or tantalizing swathes of skin before him, but then you say his name and he figures it out pretty fucking fast.

“Hey Bucky Bear,” you purr, in that raspy voice he loves. “Still want that surprise I promised?”

Palming himself roughly, Bucky adjusts the suddenly tight front of his jeans, eyeing you with a lusty smile. Fuck yes, he wants his surprise. He wants everything about you.

“You bet your sweet ass I do. What’d you have in mind?”

“I have some ideas,” you say playfully. Stepping closer, slipping your fingers into his silky hair, he leans into the touch. “And I promise we’ll get to them. But first, how about you stay down there and maybe show me how much you missed me?”

Torn, Bucky looks down at his oil stained fingers. They spasm, clutching the edge of the seat so tight the metal bends. His voice drops several octaves.

“Babe, I - shit, I’m gonna kill the mood here, but my hands are all dirty, I should wash ‘em first,” he apologizes. Rolling your eyes, you shift closer until the edge of his nose is a mere inch from the delicate lace panties.

“I’m not asking for your hands, soldier. You have a mouth. Get creative.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. Sassy and domineering? And nearly naked?

Hell yes, his dick shouts. Here we fucking go.

Warm and cool, tentative fingertips press into the smooth skin behind your knees, stroking higher until he’s plucking the satin ribbons and pulling. It feels like Christmas morning when the knot slowly breaks apart, whispers of satin and lace floating to the ground.

Nosing against your core, he inhales, long and deep. A low growl rumbles, rough hands gripping your hips tight and heat explodes across your skin when his tongue presses into your folds, licking over your clit.

“God,” your moan is dark, desperately breathless, “keep - that feels so good, Bucky, keep going, please, been way too long.”

Bucky gives a fervent nod of agreement, strands of his dark hair tickling your thighs. When was the last time he did this? Nah, you know what? If he has to ask, it’s been too long.

From now on, the only correct answer should be every damn day.

He feels you moving his head, guiding him exactly where you need him most, and he hums hungrily. Shoves his tongue deeper. He adores when you take charge, using him, his mouth or his fingers or his dick, to get yourself off. He loves it, dreams about it, wishes you would let him film it just one time (because sometimes missions last three weeks not three days Steve).

But until then, he devotes himself to making it perfect because you deserve perfect.

Fast, firm flicks of the tongue. Long, leisurely strokes, licking you slow and sweet. Rough pressure, his plush pink lips sucking tight around your clit. So good.

Your eyes fall closed as his tongue moves faster, quicker, pushing you closer closer closer -  

No, that won’t do. Cold metal lightly pinches your ass, a bid for attention. Chest heaving, you open your eyes.

Bright eyed and eager, Bucky gazes up from between your legs, looking thoroughly debauched. White t-shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders, dark hair mussed in your fingers, an obvious erection straining his jeans.

So close, you’re so close, right on the edge, just another second -

He knows, of course. Could always play you like a fiddle. He cocks a challenging eyebrow, sucks your clit between his teeth -

“Oh god, Bucky, fuck,” you moan. Weak knees buckle and his hands clutch your ass, keeping you upright and open. He never stops licking, swirling that talented tongue to draw out the bursts and shocks of pleasure until you’re gasping. When he’s wrung every drop from you, he kisses the sensitive bud and tips his head back with an arrogant smirk.

Legs like jelly, you promptly collapse into his lap.

The momentum of the fall sends the rolling seat flying. Busy being chivalrous and keeping you from tumbling headfirst onto dirty concrete, Bucky lets the wheels send him whizzing backward. His head smacks the door handle with a sharp thwack.

“Ow,” he grunts.

“Sorry,” you pant. Struggling for breath, wrapped in the haze of post orgasm bliss, you cuddle against him, soaking up his warmth. “Want me to rub it?”

Massaging his head, he wrinkles his nose. “Maybe. Depends on what you’re offering to rub.”

“Dealer’s choice,” you sass, and Bucky barks out a laugh. Wandering hands skim lightly over your shoulders, fingering the straps of the lacy bra, feather light trails along your collarbone, to the satin bow between your breaks. Tugging impatiently, he smiles when it unwinds, your breasts spilling free.

“Well, how about I take my pants off, we get in the backseat of this car, and you rub whatever you find.”

“Intriguing. What happens after I finish rubbing whatever…pokes my fancy?”

Bucky dips his head, takes your nipple between his lips, sucking gently. The feel of his wet mouth has you squirming closer until he pauses to offer an option.

“Maybe we fuck like a couple horny teenagers?”

“You’re killing me with the romance here, Barnes,” you say drily and he chuckles. “But I was maybe thinking something different.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

Licking a lazy strip between your breasts, he kisses up, up, up, until his tongue finds the hammering pulse of your heartbeat. Bemused, he hears your voice falter, before bravely offering your idea.

“I was thinking maybe I sit on the hood of your pretty red car, and – and you spread my legs and fuck me so good, I can’t walk for a week.”

Startled, Bucky pulls back. Excitement explodes in his chest.

“You - really? Seriously? That’s what you want?”

“Yep,” you confirm, palpable relief at successfully executing the dirty request. “That’s exactly what I want.”

Bucky plants a sloppy kiss on the tip of your nose. Wiggles his eyebrows and winks.

“Well god damn. You got it sweet cheeks.”

Wasting no time, he pushes off the ground and you kick your heels off, wrapping your legs around his waist. He huffs out a blissful moan when you suck a string of hickeys down his neck, grinding against you as he stumbles to the front of the car. Without thinking, he drops you on the shiny red hood and -

“Cold!”

Icy metal meets your bare ass. There’s a panicked scramble back into his arms and he manages to catch you, until your flailing upper cut cracks his jaw. It sends him off balance, tripping forward to smack his kneecaps on the Camaro’s fancy new grill. A grating screech tears the air and the grill rattles to the floor, the metallic clang bouncing off the walls.

Flinching, you peer up at him as it fades away.

Bucky’s nose twitches.

In all his fantasies (and there are many, because you are one sexy piece of ass), this shit never happens. Every sexcapade is effortlessly smooth, sensual and steamy, where you both look great, not a hair out of place, no oil-stained hands or unintended destruction of expensive vintage cars.

In reality, it seems like something always goes sideways. One of his nipples gets gouged by your fingernail or the silk from your negligee gets caught in the plates of his arm, or one of his perfectly aimed thrusts sends you both toppling off the bed. Sometimes he wonders if this is just the two of you? Do other people have perfectly orchestrated sex lives? Is porn not a true mirror of real life?

Is porn a lie?

Maybe he should watch more porn and form a more educated opinion.

For now, he takes in your crestfallen expression, vehemently shaking his head when you try to apologize.

“Buck, I’m sorry, I -“

Holding up a stern hand, he stops you cold. Sets you on your feet, gallantly whipping off his shirt, and spreading it on the shiny red paint. This time when he sets you on the hood, you lay back until the familiar scent of his cologne hugs you close. Bucky lifts your feet, propping each on the hood, spreading your legs open. He leans in close, a pink flush spreading over his chest, crawling up his throat, blue eyes turning dark.  

“Listen to me. Don’t ever apologize, okay? You’re worth more than this old junker.” A crooked smile tilts his mouth, his voice as soft as the lips now brushing yours. “You’re priceless. You understand?”

“Okay,” you murmur. Fingers dance lightly up the hard planes of his stomach, wrapping around the chain of his old dog tags. “I understand.”  

Bucky nods, watching your eyes drift down, drinking him up. He lives for that look. Sets him on fire, to watch you ogle him. When your eyes skate down his right side, he flexes his forearm a bit, because he knows it turns you on.   

A swift tug of the chain and he dips easily, mouth slanting over yours. There’s a faint sound of teeth clacking together, and he stifles a laugh at your excitement. Deep kisses, stoking that simmering fire sitting right below the surface. Your lips part and he slides inside, curling his tongue around yours, pulling away to lick along the corner of your mouth, to suck your bottom lip between his teeth.

The thought appears, same as when he had his mouth between your legs. How long has it been since the two of you just made out like this? Same answer? Too fucking long?

This is definitely happening more often.  

He feels your eager fingers reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open, slipping your hand inside. Cool fingers wrap tight around his cock, the other hand wandering down to squeeze a handful of his ass. Bucky hurriedly shimmies his pants to his knees, sets both hands on the car and leans forward, tipping his face down, touching his forehead to yours. Blue eyes flutter closed, breath hitching while he concentrates on the feel of your capable hands, slow strokes along his length, slicker with each tug.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he grits out. “Can you - damn that’s good - can you, there, bit lower -“

Ragged pants melt into a low groan when you slip your hand from the death grip on his ass to cup his balls, rolling them against your palm.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, yeah, yes, fuck yes, just like that,” he hisses, thrusting into your hands. “Can you - can you pull just a little-“

He stammers the question, ignoring your amused hum. It was a quirk, one he discovered early in the relationship. It came out of the blue, a bashful request during a romp in the sheets, but for some reason, Bucky has a thing for having his balls tugged. Not hard (which was also discovered after an unconsciously rough yank had him squealing in pain), but more of a soft squeeze, followed by a slow pull.

Like how you squeeze an overripe banana, he had explained later, gingerly massaging his balls. Not so hard it squishes.

Many entertaining attempts later, and he swears you have the move patented. Stroking his dick faster, your thumb presses over his balls, before a careful pull. Tipping his head back, Bucky stares glass eyed at the ceiling, lost in pleasure, pushing himself into your firm grip.  

“Feel good?” you murmur.

“Yeah. Yes, so good, so god damn good ,” he chokes out. Faster, harder, faster - and then a strangled gasp and panicked blue eyes catch yours. “Wait, too good, it’s too good! Don’t wanna come yet, hang on! Need to be inside you first.”

He grabs your wrists, the thwarted sting of a denied orgasm obvious in the grind of his teeth. Both of you look down to where your hands are wrapped around him, one still kneading his balls, the other curled around the velvety hot skin of his cock.

“Okay,” you say, looking him up and down. “Fine, but - you’re so sexy, Bucky. And I love your balls.”

Bucky nods furiously, gulping a deep lungful of air. His ass cheeks are twitching.

“I love that you love them, I really do. But babe, I need you to let go of my balls or I’ll come all over your hand,” he rasps, wiggling away. Releasing him, your hands run up his chest, twining around his neck, dragging his sweat damp chest flush against you.

“If I must,” you agree, smiling into his lips. Bucky relaxes into you, the slow melt of tongues follows, the kind where a kiss bounces around, until it finds the perfect rhythm. His hands trace up the line of your arms, unlocking your fingers and pulling them free. Brushing his thumbs over your wrists, he bends close, kisses your knuckles.

And then he folds your arms above your head, pinning them down.  

“Keep them there, alright? Don’t move until I say you can.”

“Kinky. Yes sir,” you breathe. He smirks.

“You’d better watch it, you little deviant. I might get used to that.”

“Sorry…sir.”

Pulling you further down the hood, he rubs his cock between your legs, sliding himself between your folds until a slick sheen coats his skin. It startles a grunt from you when he abruptly shoves inside, sinking deep until his hips press flush to yours.  

He waits. Has to wait actually, because its been a long damn time and if he’s not careful he’s going to embarrass himself before he even gets started and holy shit, is this even real life? Is he dreaming?

Splayed out on the hood of his car, legs wide open, breasts wet from his tongue, black lace and crumpled satin ribbons. Arms pinned above the luscious skin bared just for him. Bucky stares between your legs, dry mouthed and dizzy.

“Come on, Bucky, please? Fuck me, please fuck me, I missed you so much.”

How could he ever resist this? You naked, writhing against the vivid red of his Camaro, moaning for him to fuck you, with his cock buried in your -

“Aw fucking hell,” he mutters. After so many weeks apart, he knows full well this won’t last long. It’s a damn good thing he has more than a few rounds in him.

Cracking his neck, rolling his shoulders back, he digs thick fingers into your thighs, pulls back nice and slow. He waits. Waits. Waits a bit longer because he likes to be an asshole and hear you beg.

“Bucky, come on -”

And he plunges into you, burying himself in the tight, silky heat of your cunt. Warm up over, no slow start. The pace he sets is rough, so deep he feels the pleasure licking down his spine and into his toes. Over and over, he slams into you until one particularly sharp thrust presses the tip of his cock against that perfect spot inside and you arch up with a broken cry. Hands scrabble above your heard, searching for anything to hold onto, finding something flexible.

With a plastic snap, the windshield wiper blade breaks off in your hand.

Bucky stutters to a halt, blinking sweat from his eyes when he sees the look of horror on your face. The apology is still forming when he snatches the plastic from your fingers, throwing it aside.

“Don’t care,” he grunts. Giving you no time to argue, he wraps his hands behind your knees and raises your hips, fucking into you faster. The filthy echo of sweat slick skin accompanies his breathless order. “Touch yourself. Let me watch.”

A frantic agreement and one hand slips between your legs, the other cupping your breast. Frantic circles over the swollen bud, trembling fingers plucking at a pebbled nipple. Bucky watches greedily, eyes flickering back and forth, memorizing those things that bring you pleasure, fantastically dirty memories to replay on a rainy day.

“Bucky,” desperate fingers rub your clit faster. “Keep going, please keep - keep doing that, I’m close, I’m so close, I’m -“

Sharp and sweet and unexpected, the orgasm crashes into you. Arching up, the low moan tears free, and Bucky slows, hypnotized by the sight of you shuddering beneath him.

“There you go, that’s it,” he urges hoarsely, before surging forward and capturing your lips in a wild kiss. Two more pumps of his hips and he stops, grinding against you until he comes with a heavy groan.

Silence fills the room, broken only with the sounds of harsh breaths and the wet rush of his heartbeat thumping in his ears. He rests his forehead between your breasts, listening to the staccato beat of your quick breaths, until you struggle up onto your elbows, pushing his sweaty hair away from his face.

“So I broke your car.”

He says nothing, but a moment later his shoulders begin to shake and suddenly he’s laughing, great rushing wheezes as he struggles for breath. Raising his head, he finds you nervously squinting down at him. He stretches up, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I got insurance. Just need to check my coverage for mildly destructive ‘I missed you’ sex.”

“You might consider expanding that policy. I’m just saying,” you suggest with a giggle and he snorts.

Quiet contentment blankets the stuffy garage, both of you basking in that tingly afterglow. Folding your hands behind his neck, you draw him close and Bucky nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

“Been tough lately,” he whispers, mouthing gently along your throat. “Trying to find time together.”

Nodding slowly, your smile turns wistful.

“Yeah…guess it makes any time we get even better. Right? It doesn’t matter to me what we do, as long as we’re doing it together.”

Bucky feels a lump in his throat (the kind that could easily dissolve into manly super soldier tears), and he gathers you in his arms, tucking you against his chest. When he answers, his voice cracks just a bit.

“Someone’s a sentimental sap.”

He hears your muffled laugh against his chest, feels you bite at his collarbone and he chuckles.

“I love you Bucky. And I’m really sorry I murdered your car.”

“I love you too, babe. I’m glad you came down here. Especially in that outfit.”

“Yeah? You liked it?”

“Fuck yes I did. What spurred that idea, hmm?”

“I just don’t want to lose our spark,” you admit, snuggling closer. “When things get so busy, it’s easy to let things like this slide, and I don’t want you to - get bored, I guess. With us.”

Bucky thinks about all his relationship advice articles and the fact that he sometimes even prints them out and goes through with a yellow highlighter to capture the key points. Hearing your soft concern makes him fall even more in love with you.

Because this is important. This relationship, this love, this spark he was lucky enough to find with you, it’s the most important thing in his world. You are the most important thing in his world.

Brushing a knuckle down your cheek, he coaxes your chin up.

“I know it’s tough, always being on different schedules, but I want you to know, I’m always gonna love you and I’m always gonna want you. Nothing changes that. And if you ever doubt just how much I genuinely want to bang you all night long, then you say something. Deal?”

He boops your nose and you grin.

“Deal.”

“And honey, not that I’m complaining, trust me, but you don’t need to dress sexy to get me all reved up,” he shrugs. “You do that just by looking at me.”

“You do know how to charm the pants off a lady, Barnes.”

He throws his head back and laughs. Swings you up in his arms and calms your startled yelp with a kiss.

“Damn straight. Now how about we give that backseat a try. I think you mentioned wanting to rub something back there?”

*****