#this is a conversation inspired by the evening I had hanging with my roommate

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Party Girl P - p.b

‣ Clingy Drunk Paige Bueckers x Reader (inspired by our favorite girl partying on Ice's live on 06/24/23)

‣ wc: 1476

‣‣ Synopsis: r and paige were roommates freshman year of college due to a mixup between the wbb team and wsoccer team and started their secret relationship as Paige recovered from her sophomore year injuries. (highkey might write more fics about this????) Up until now they've been able to keep their one-year ish relationship a secret, despite the rumors circulating the internet about the two of them.

‣‣‣ a/n: this is my first time writing a fic ESPECIALLY dialogue, not just on tumblr but like as a whole so any suggestions on my writing is highly welcome (you guys have no idea how hard x reader was to write because it was so confusing to write and kept breaking my brain bc i've NEVER done second pov) and also, the live’s timeline in this fic is not super accurate because it's lowk inspired by that one clip of paige and azzi maybe? kissing but i couldn’t find the whole video (i also just didn’t have the brainpower) so please bear w me 🙏🙏

You made your way over to Ice, leaning over shoulder with the sole intent of taking a sip of her drink. Before you could grasp the cup however, she slightly nudged you, drawing your attention to the live she had streaming from her phone.

“Oh my gosh I didn’t even notice yall, what’s up live,” You forgot about the drink as you rested your arm and chin on Ice’s shoulder, giving a small wave to greet the hundred people watching you from Ice’s screen. You were at Ted’s, the local bar, partying with the uconn women’s basketball team. Despite being part of the soccer team yourself, you were close friends with the entirety of the wbb team since your freshman year, growing even closer when you and Paige began dating last year.

You nodded your head and sang some of the lyrics to the music playing, silently reading the comments slowly rolling in and only addressing the more appropriate ones, despite being slightly tipsy you still had majority of your media training intact. You answered a few questions about random things while recharging your social battery with Ice, thanking those who gave compliments on your outfit or hair and stifling your laughs at the comments addressing Azzi drinking in the background or Paige yelling about shots.

Thinking of Paige, you realized you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in a few minutes as you perked your head up to look for her.

The entire team knew the two of you were practically attached at the hip in general, making it nearly impossible for anyone to separate your drunk clingy selves from each other. You parted ways with Ice, wrapping your arm around the shoulder of your slightly taller girlfriend as you also reached for a shot off the bar top in front of the two of you.

Paige turned her head to the side as her arm wrapped around the sliver of exposed skin on your waist. "Hey baby I missed you" her slight intoxication showing in her voice as she leaned in to kiss your jaw in greeting. Her face was flushed and you could feel the heat radiating off her body as you settled into her embrace, her hair tickling the back of your neck as you conversed with the girls around you.

You remained in her arms for the short time you danced, sang, and drank with Paige, KK, Azzi, and Kayla, the younger girls hanging out on the other side of the bar with Aubrey, either on their phones or talking to each other as they weren’t old enough for the bar to serve them. You excused yourself from the group as you ordered a dirty shirley from the bar and made your way back over to Ice, wanting to rest your feet for a few moments and have your favorite drink in peace.

"Hey guys your favorite is back!" You weren't a lightweight by any means, usually being able to hold your drinks well, but the night had clearly made you a little louder and outgoing as you rapidly began flipping through random conversation topics with Ice and the live. It had only been a minute or two before you had exited the live's view after discarding your leather jacket over the chair and setting your drink on the table in front of you to head further in the corner of the bar to text a few of your soccer friends back on your phone as you leaned against the wall.

Paige came up behind Ice as she wrapped her arms around Ice's neck while singing to the phone, knowing that if you had removed yourself from the camera's view it was to have a few moments of peace and privacy while on your phone. She sang the rest of the song with Ice before leaving her to walk over to your standing figure, leaning against the wall next to you and pulling your body in front of her as you closed your phone and looked up at her. She wrapped her arms around your waist once again, but this time without your jacket acting as a barrier between your two bodies.

"Mmm, you smell so good baby," Paige mumbled as she laid sweet kisses up your neck, drawing small circles up and down your bare waist to your skirt-covered hip. Her small touches only added to the warm fuzzy feeling in your head, having you melt into her touch.

"Thank you P," you giggle softly while tilting your head slightly upwards so you could see her properly, "You having fun out there?" you smile at the grin that spreads across her face.

"It's been a while since we've all been able to go out together, it's nice spending time with everyone outside of practice, especially with you," she says the last part while gently knocking her forehead into yours.

It was true, the two of you had been so busy with your respective sports, finals, and social lives that you hadn't been able to go out and truly enjoy a stress and carefree night, especially considering the fact that your relationship was a secret to everyone outside of your teams and close friend group.

"Yeah well, we'll be able to spend a lot more time together now, starting tonight," you whisper into her suggestively while trying to contain your wide smile. Paige pulled back to allow her eyes to roam over your face before slowly trailing down the rest of your body.

"That, we most definitely will," She whispered back as she gripped your hips to pull you in for a slow and languid kiss, your hands automatically moving to rest one on her neck and one into her hair, kissing her back slowly.

"OH SHIT, I mean shoot, um anyways," The two of you pull back from your kiss at Ice's exclamation, looking over at her and Aubrey, who was now standing in the middle of you three, to see what was wrong. She muted the live and turned the camera over from her face as she waved you both over frantically. "I accidentally turned the camera to Aubrey and you guys were in the background but I don't think the live saw your guys's faces like actually kissing, it was mostly just paige's back and a bit of you and I'm not sure if," her frantic ramble continued on before you stopped her.

"It's fine, it's fine, if they didn't actually see my face and us two actually kissing it'll be fine, just ignore it," You reassured her, immediately feeling more sober than just a few minutes prior. "Paige and I will just go back over to some of the other girls and you can come over to us with the live to say bye and we'll just pretend it didn't happen okay?" You concluded to her while grabbing Paige's hand and interlinking your fingers.

"That's fine with you right P?" You turned to her, making sure she was okay with potentially just being outed on a tiktok live. "Yeah it's not a big deal, don't stress too hard Ice," she reassured while squeezing your hand. You walked away from your two friends hand in hand to stand at a quiet spot at the bar, making sure to double check again with Paige, but now without Ice and Aubrey present in the conversation.

"Are you sure you're alright Paige? I know you wanted to keep this a secret for a while longer and it's okay if you're not comfortable with our relationship being out in the open like this and," Paige cut you off before you could continue.

"Hey hey, as long as I'm with you, everything is okay," she looked you in the eye as she consoled you, "We can talk about what we wanna do about the public knowing moving forward, but for right now, I'm content just being here with you."

You smiled at her, your anxiety relieved that the incident wasn't something that would negatively impact the stability and peace your relationship with Paige had. You leaned forward into her body, allowing her arms to encircle you in a comforting and tight hug as she kissed the top of your head gently.

It was safe to say the rest of your time spent at the bar with Paige was more relaxing than before, the two of you swapping your drinks for water and replacing your energetic dancing for simply standing and spending time with the other girls. You both even made sure to reserve a small amount of distance between the your bodies when Ice had all of you say goodbye to her live. The team had all decided to pack up for the night shortly after, and you and Paige walked hand in hand together to your dorm, enjoying the cool breeze of the night.

thank you for reading all the way through and sorry if this was kinda booty i couldn't force myself to read all the way through and edit once i finished but i'm excited to keep writing and hopefully get better with each fic! also lmk if you guys wanna see more of this specific paige x reader prompt as mentioned at the top of the post!!!!

[pellucid-constellations]

My Everyday

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining

a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)

Masterlist

~~

“What’s this punks name again?” 

The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.” 

“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?” 

“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.” 

“Semantics.” 

“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes. 

There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice. 

He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one. 

Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus. 

But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team. 

You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you. 

But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours. 

There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck. 

It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting. 

“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?” 

“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?” 

“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.” 

You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.

~~

“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.

The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.” 

“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?” 

“Fuck you, man.” 

A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something. 

And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.

Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.

“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room. 

You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?” 

The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow. 

“Y/n.” 

It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.” 

He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?” 

“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—” 

“We’re going home.” 

“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.” 

He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.” 

That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice. 

This was different. 

“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room. 

He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped. 

You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.

“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.” 

“It was a big deal.” 

~~

The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours. 

There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.

Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”

“Ice skating.”

The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?” 

“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.” 

“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—” 

“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt. 

“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.” 

You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink. 

A good reason. 

You didn’t date athletes. 

It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else. 

And you didn’t date athletes. 

You did not. 

You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met. 

The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged. 

So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience. 

You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.” 

He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room. 

“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room. 

“Tonight,” you answered plainly. 

The arms atop your legs tensed. 

~~

The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him. 

On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.

The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.

You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.

“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.” You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.” 

“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.” 

“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea. 

Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week. 

Definitely not. 

“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat. 

You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you. 

On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.

“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering. 

“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.” 

And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.

“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone. 

“What?” you yelled. 

He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again. 

This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.

“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.” 

You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.” 

“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you. 

“Yeah, it’s—”

“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out. 

You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up. 

Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.” 

“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.

“Do I know you?” you slurred.

You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?” 

“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.” 

“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.” 

Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?” 

Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again. 

“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.

Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.

“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled. 

The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.” 

There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left. 

Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal. 

“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked. 

A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.” 

“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?” 

You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream. 

Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack. 

He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.” 

“Who?” Your head swayed with the question. 

Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went. 

“What the fuck?” you blurted out. 

“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?” 

“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied. 

“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.” 

Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.” 

He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men. 

After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently. 

“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door. 

You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.�� 

The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.” 

“I can take you just fine.”

“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?” 

Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”

His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent. 

“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created. 

“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation. 

“Yeah, but—” 

“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.” 

You blinked, and then slid into the front seat. 

The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.

“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.” 

Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.” 

He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look. 

“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.” 

~~

Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news. 

After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade. 

“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively. 

Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.” 

“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.

You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink. 

“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow. 

“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.” 

“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.” 

“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?” 

“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room. 

Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift. 

You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed. 

“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.” 

You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes. 

And nothing at the same time. 

“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.

“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.” 

“You’re being presumptuous.” 

He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply. 

“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection. 

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen. 

But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.” 

“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.

He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”

“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you. 

And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.

His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.” 

He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.” 

There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you. 

“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.” 

The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter. 

He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you. 

The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.

The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter. 

He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.” 

“You can do it again.” 

“Oh, I will, baby.” 

Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together. 

“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.” 

He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?” 

“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.” 

Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets. 

“And is that true?” 

“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”

[broooooo]

Dronehood

____________________

In today's world , the world has been slowly taken over by drones, whether it was by force, choice or persuasion, men are being converted, covered in a shiny black latex, a second skin, a well built muscled body, constantly aroused and hard. The mind does seem to remain keeping the hosts personality, but there's a big focus of obeying the master and the pleasure of dronehood

At first the world was scared, but as the drone army expanded, it slowly became normal, as if it's a rite of passage for teenage, adult men. It's even become a kind of entertainment to watch a conversion happen, could inspire others , or worn them.

Then there's me

I am Aaron, 21, regular build, living in an apartment, IV never been opposed to the drone movement. It's interesting to watch.

Deep down I wouldn't mind becoming a drone myself, it genuinely sounds fun.

Iv watched my childhood friend, Jason, become one before my eyes, he had wanted it for a while, and decided to get a slow conversion, he wanted to experience all the feelings grow and build.

The conversion itself is simple, intercourse with a drone, you may or may not include leather articles of clothing such as gloves or boots for extra pleasure. When it's done, the new drone is given a serial number name, but can keep their human name for interactions with others, plus they can take off their head mask for easy identification.

I myself don't leave my room a lot, i just watch from my TV or the window, hearing it through my walls too at times. Jason's my roommate, but he's never home, he's busy converting others or just hanging out with other drones.

Somewhat makes me jealous, before his conversion , we were the same, locked in your rooms not doing much, it honestly is a better life for him, and I'm happy,

It's possible to request a drone conversion, many have done it, Idk why I haven't done it yet, I guess I want to keep my peace for a little while, but ik at some point it will get too much to bear and then I will know I'm ready.

_________________

It was a normal day for me, watching my conversions , and contemplating life. When suddenly I hear the front door open, I rush out to see him, Jason standing in the door way, his heavy leather boots stomping on the floor as he closes the door. He looks at me, I haven't seen his have a week's.

JASON!?* ITS been so long, how.. have you been?*

He smiles and embraces me in a hug

*Iv been well, I missed you*

My face goes flush red, as I hug him back.

His latex skin is soft and shiny , the feel of hard muscles, it makes my heart race.

We pull away and I ask*

What are you doing here Jason?* Don't you have missions ?*

Jason laughs and says * well I do live here, plus even drones need rest.*

I answer back"

Well that makes sense , yeah*

Jason goes sit on the couch to watch TV.

*mind getting me a sparkling lemon water Aaron?.

Oh? Ok sure , I'll make us both one *

I go the kitchen, fill two cups with soda and prepare to cut lemons, during all this my mind races with thoughts, the sudden appearance of Jason and the feeling of his skin, it felt great. I feel hot, almost dreaming of it

As I'm cutting lemons the knife slips and cuts my hand, breaking me out of my dream like state

GAH*

Jason turns and runs up to me concerned

Are you ok?*

I'm fine just cut my self.

I go to clean up the blood and find a bandage, but problem, we where out of bandages

*darn we're out of bandaids.

Well I have a suggestion*

I turn around to see Jason's bear hand outstretched holding a latex glove.

You took it off? Isn't that yours?

Don't worry, I get a new one, my body can create it naturally.

I look at the glove as I hold it, it's soft,

The glove has a healing effect to it, it protects us drones from major injuries.

Huh, convenient , as I smile* thanks

I put the glove over my disinfected hand, I move my fingers about feeling it, it was soft, silky and comfortable.

So this is how it feels?* I say

Yeah, it's quite the sensation isn't it?,

Very much so, no wonder many ppl become drones.

Jason helps me finish the drinks and we go sit on the couch together.

Have you thought about dronehood much Aaron?

I turn to him and choke a little ,

Have I thought about it? It's ALL I can think about xd* I say with laughter, I observe it happen from my room, since your never hear.

And before you ask, no, I don't think I'm ready yet.

Jason looks into this drink and back up to me, he leans a hand over to touch my shoulder,

He smiles and says, * when you're ready then, no force, I want you to enjoy it as much as possible.

I peek up, *I KNEW IT, you planned this, laughing.

You were always a trickster you, we both laugh

Well Aaron , I. Do hope you enjoy that glove, it will help you decide, I'm sure of it.

I turn to look out the window and smiles

*thanks, i-, will definitely have an answer soon I'm sure.

___________

Afterwards we hang out the rest of day, it was a fun reunion, full of talk and catching up untill sun down

We both go to bed , crashing instantly as I'd been so tired after today.

The next day Jason and I bid farewell as he leaves for a mission.

I'm left alone and go to my room , sitting on my bedroom couch

_____

Hm, planed or not, I'm happy I have this glove. I turn on the TV to watch some more conversions

I feel hot and steamy imagining it, before I know it I'm rubbing my bulge with the gloved hand , my dick getting erect from what pleasure I can muster,

And idea popped into my head, I head over to Jason's room, and my mind was validated when I saw them, an extra pair of leather boots,

*planned this too Jason? Well idc, thanks*

We happen to be the same size, even so is force my feet into them, the boots go up to my kne, tall and shiny, sliding my feet in, my heart and mind are racing , my dick is rock hard , the sensations are over powering, I lace them up tight, whist I remove my clothing.

I stand up to look to the mirror, naked with only a latex glove and leather boots on, the weight of the boots and the tightness, protecting me, I go to my bed,I start to edge off slowly, aroused to high heavens and enjoying it all. Whilst the sounds of conversions from the TV hum in the background.

I never realized it but the dream like state I was in of edging and leaking lasted 3 days, I was covered in pre, drooling and gooing out, the latex glove and boots has started to spread up my legs and arm, then came Jason, he stood in my bedroom doorway, smiling, he comes over and jumps on top of me, squeezing my nipples hard

I moan hard and leak over me

*ready Aaron?*

Laughing through the intense pleasure ,

*hehe yeah. Convert me friend* I'm ready*

Jason's glowing purple eyes look into mine,

___________

Jason's hard latex dick at the ready, and with a passionate kiss it commences, what felt like a. Eternity, lasted a week of slow intense sex and conversion. As I expected it all

By the end of it, we and the bed were wet in pre, drool and juices, through the days, the latex nanites from Jason's dick slowly transformed my body, spreading the latex all over whist giving my muscle to fit, the climax of the conversion was then.

Jason fucking my tight ass, we both prepared for it , cum

It was a screech of intense pleasure, black nantite filled cum sprayed in ropes out our dicks, lasting 69 minutes of constant cumming, fucking and kissing, and the cum pool around us and soak back up into our bodies, , strengthening the conversion.

When it was all over , we lay there together tired and in love

My eyes start to glow to an intense blue. My mind was reshaped and ready,

Looking to Jason's eyes I say.

* I am ready to obey , ready to spread , ready to cum alongside you *

Jason smiles and kisses me, *ik.. drone 6923..*

My eyes flash, * yes... My new name.. thank you..

Drone 8696..*

___________

In the end we two drones, continued to make out intensely, passionately, never running out of cum

Untill the next mission is handed to us, and. I join Jason on my first crusade, We will enjoy each other forever.

______

: D

I enjoyed this one , genuinely think it's one of my best works yet

Hope you enjoy it, fellow drones

[okieedokes]

glastonbury with callum | head canons

authors note: this is dedicated to my roommate saskia who was almost reduced to tears over dua’s hard launch of callum on Insta hehe hope your enjoy my lovely! this is obviously inspired by cal and dua being the cutest couple at glaston this year! started off as headcanons then basically became a mini fic oops…

summary: this is a day at a glastonbury festival with boyfriend callum

warnings: mention of alcohol and intoxication

- You spent months persuading your boyfriend Callum to join you at Glastonbury Festival this year, knowing he wasn’t fond of large public events outside of work

- However, when you framed the offer as helping ensure your safety during the weekend of partying, he agreed.

- You eagerly reserved a stay in a charming glamping tent, eagerly marking the days on your calendar in anticipation.

- Knowing Callum would be getting in late from set that day, he encouraged you to arrive early with your friends, assuring you he would join you as soon as possible.

- With your friends' assistance, you swiftly set up your belongings in the tent before eagerly diving into the festivities. Adorned in your thoughtfully chosen casual yet chic ensemble and your beloved wellies, you and your best friend hurried toward the stage to catch the first act.

- Time seemed to slip away as you danced in the crowd, savoring your favorite beverage and gradually feeling the effects.

- You were snapped out of your reverie by a text from Callum:

On my way now sweetheart, hope you're not too far gone x.

- The message made you chuckle, but it also served as a gentle reminder to pace yourself.

- As the sun started to set, concern crept in about finding Callum in the growing crowd. Just then, familiar voice put your worries to rest.

- You turn to find your boyfriend standing behind you, looking incredibly handsome in his all-black ensemble. Without hesitation, you leap into his embrace, squealing as he lifts you off the ground, his hands securely around your waist. After sharing a firm kiss, you murmur how much you've missed him as he gently sets you down. Sensing your slight stumble upon landing, he suggests it might be time for some food—a suggestion you eagerly agree with.

- You sit huddled together on a table as you eat, and catch eachother up on your days. He giggles as you account every celebrity you had seen and subsequently fan girled after. Callum notices that you have began to shiver, swiftly pulling you onto his lap wrapping you in his warmth.

“I don’t know what you were thinking wearing this?” He chuckles as his fingers brush the hem of your mini skirt. “It’s not very practical”.

“I was thinking that I looked quite fit in it.” You retort, your speech still slightly slurred.

“Exactly right.” He corrects, before removing his jacket and wrapping it around your frame.

- The crowd at the main stage only gets bigger as the the final acts of the night approach instead of pushing your way through the crowd you and Callum choose hang at the back where you have plenty of space to dance.

- He frequently lifts you onto his shoulders to get a better view of the artists, even though you insist it isn't necessary.

- At some points he twirls you around as if you are lovers in a old movie. At others he holds you from behind rocking you gently to the tune of the music.

- When you’re sure no one is watching you place a firm kiss to his lips, which he leans into, dipping you backwards causing you to break away in giggles.

- As the final act begins their final song, Callum notices you stifling a yawn and suggests that you two beat the crowd back to the tents. You, being too tired to argue, agree.

- Hand in hand, you stroll together, passionately debating your favorite acts of the night—there was never a shortage of conversation when you were together.

- When you finally reach the tent, utterly exhausted, you collapse onto the bed, burying your face in the pillows. Callum chuckles at your dramatics and gently assists you out of your outfit (including his jacket), then helps remove the remnants of your makeup.

- He pours your a glass of water and leaves it by your bedside.

- As you battle to stay awake, wanting to convey your deep love and appreciation for him, you rest your head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart soothes you into slumber, while he tenderly strokes your hair and presses soft kisses to your forehead.

[lcvehee]

the kiss

in which our dear y/n and sohee are the epitome of the friends-to-lovers trope. cutie patooties fr.

ft. sohee of riize warnings: 'sickeningly sweet fluff' and the fact that english isn't my first language lol. not thorougly proofread. this also my FIRST EVER fic so please be nice ;;

author note: gustav klimt's painting has always been one of my favourites and it inspired me to capture the tenderness of a kiss shared between two inexperienced people.

you were getting ready, standing in front of your hallway mirror, lip tint in hand.

“oh my gosh, your hands are shaking!” your roommate uttered, a knowing smile slowly creeping on her face.

“shut up, giselle!” you huffed, poking her with your elbow, “am not!”

she laughed, putting her hand on your shoulder. “girl, it’s okay to admit that you’re nervous.” you finally faced her, seeing that her expression has melted into a reassuring look. “but you don’t need to, i don’t wanna fluster you too much before your date.” you rolled your eyes playfully at her words.

“how kind of you,” you deadpanned, staring right in her eyes, before resuming your makeup routine.

she laughed again in response. “no but actually,” she patted your back gently, “it’s gonna be alright, i've seen how he looks at you when we all hang out. sohee seems like he really likes you." she leaned conspiratorially closer to your ear. "like a lot," she added.

“yeah, i hope.”

she waved at you. “i gotta go to class, i’ll see you tonight.”

ೀ ⋆⑅˚₊

the small coffee shop you were at was bustling with people. yet your date, lee sohee, was nowhere to be found. you anxiously tapped your feet, your eyes darting from right to left. still not here.

you looked at the clock.

2:34 pm.

he was more than thirty minutes late.

you didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to worry. you had already ordered your drinks, and he still hadn’t texted you. that was unlike him; he usually answers fast to your texts, and he was known to be very punctual—everyone in your friend group seemed to agree on that. it's actually something you admire in him. a myriad of doubts weighed on your mind—despite this, you waited.

there must be a reason.

you glanced at your phone. you sighed. your phone was dry as the sahara.

five languid minutes passed by and soon, you were snapped awake by your waitress.

“here you go, miss.” she beamed, putting the two drinks down. she was about to leave when she noticed the vacant seat in front of you. “oh, are you still waiting for your friend?”

you nodded, abashed.

you eye your colorful drinks: two strawberry matcha lattes, the drink that sohee recommended on your first date, two weeks ago.

that wasn't the first you met each other—far from that, actually. your roommate and best friend giselle is close with some people in his circle, and so the rest is history.

at first, when she brought you to one of the group's hang out, you didn't quite know what do with yourself; giselle had gone off on a tangent about obscure japanese fashion designers with shotaro, and you ended up sipping on sprite, alone on the edge of the couch. you couldn't blame her; college was demanding and, almost always, people were less and less available for hangouts.

"hey, what are you thinking about, y/n?" sohee asked as he lightly tapped your shoulder.

you remembered how he helped you be more at ease by including you in conversations. naturally, you grew close to sohee. his easy-going and thoughtful nature made becoming friends quite easy. he treated everyone kindly, even people he didn't know well, which included you at some point.

soon, he became a steady presence in your life, and your heart speeding up became a normal occurrence as well. you only realized that you've started falling for him when you caught yourself thinking about his goofy grin a little bit too often for a friend.

again, you get pulled back to reality by the energetic voice of the waitress.

“i can give you some extra ice if you want? or i can serve it later when they arrive.”

you consider your options, not noticing a presence behind your seat.

“no need to, but thank you!” someone exclaimed.

you turned your head around, slightly tilting it upwards. chocolate brown eyes met yours. “sohee! um, you’re here,” you managed to sputter.

taking this as a cue to leave, the waitress excused herself quickly.

flustered, was what you both were in that moment.

he was breathing a bit heavily, cheeks slightly flushed. his hair, frankly, looked like a birds' nest.

“did you run here?” you stared at him, bewildered.

he definitely ran here.

“hi, y/n.” he put his hand on a nearby chair, supporting his out-of-breath self, “and yeah, i was running from the bus stop. i’m sorry for being so late,” he paused again, trying to calm his breathing. “there was an emergency with my roommate, seunghan, and i had to help him…”

you expected further elaboration—which you did not get as he was still catching his breath. a beat of silence followed.

“ah!” he gasped, “this is for you.” he smiled sheepishly, handing you a bouquet he was hiding behind him. it was a mix of blush pink peonies, along with some fresh foliage.

you chuckle at his forgetfulness. he looks down, chuckling too, albeit a bit nervously.

you you wrap your hands delicately around the stems, accidentally touching his fingers. “thank you,” you say as you breathe in the flowers’ scent. the café was still as noisy and busy as when you got there, and yet, the only thing you focused on was his presence. you could feel your heartbeat drumming inside your chest. “they’re gorgeous,” you added. you couldn't believe he remembered that you liked peonies, as you don't even remember mentioning these flowers.

“i’m glad you like them. i didn’t know which color to get you and so… i asked the florist for some advice,” he said, removing his jacket, and finally sitting down in front of you. "he told me pink peonies symbolized romance? i didn't know each flower had so many complex meanings!"

you giggle at his bluntness. "that's really thoughtful of you."

you looked up from your newly-acquired bouquet, just to see him looking at you, completely enrapt, a small smile dancing on his face with his chin in the palm of his hand. realizing he's been caught, he looks away again, clearing his throat.

you feel your heartbeat quickening even more at the sight.

“um… where should i put this?” you changed the subject, as a tentative to calm your restless heart.

he takes the bouquet and puts it on the bench he was sitting on. “you’ll have to do something to get them back.” he grinned. “and thank you for remembering my favorite drink,” he said, before taking a sip. he let out an appreciative grunt, thoroughly admiring the drink.

“what is it that i should do?” you looked at him, raising your brows, “you made me wait and now you’re making me do something again? such a gentleman.”

he put his drink down. “all you have to do is spend the afternoon with me.”

you snorted. “that’s it?”

he took another swig at the latte, looking fondly at you. “yep. it’s that easy, y/n.”

ೀ ⋆⑅˚₊

5:44 pm.

the last rays of the september sun cast a warm glow on your figures as you two walked side by side. your date was coming to an end and sohee was walking you home. the previous nervous atmosphere has dissipated and has long been replaced by witty comments and cheeky grins.

"what did you think of me when we first met?" he asked, turning to face you.

"that's so sudden." you glanced at him. he continued looking at you, determined to obtain an answer. you gave it a thought.

you thought he was cute, and his friendly demeanor made him instantly likable. you tell him just that. he lets out a boyish laugh; the one he does when he doesn't quite know what to say.

not knowing what to say next, you bask in the comfortable silence. you were never good with words, so you appreciate him not prodding too much.

the two of you continued walking next to the han river, hands almost brushing together, but not quite.

you stared straight ahead, even when you felt his gaze lingering. you just couldn't bear seeing his eyes focused on you with such intensity.

you added, "what about you? what did you first think of me?"

"hm..." he looked up, thinking.

"i know." he snorted, "when do you think was the day we met?"

"we were at shotaro's appartment, right?

"nope. actually, i first saw you in composition 1104. remember professor choi?"

wait. he knew you then?

he chuckled. "you were kind of my hallway crush since then."

you stopped in your tracks. "really?" you say, facing him.

"yeah, i didn't know your name back then. but i thought you were really pretty." he added, voice suddenly soft. "i didn't have the courage to tell you so i just... kept it to myself."

you didn't think he'd compliment you like this—you expected him to crack a joke as per usual or tease you about something embarassing you said.

you felt blood rush to your face as you noticed the honey in his eyes and the slight upward curve of his lips.

despite your inhibitions, you felt yourself slowly inching closer as he did the same. you could smell his cologne—a fresh aromatic scent tickling your nose. his right hand tenderly cupped your cheek. you shivered at the physical contact.

"y/n, may i?" he asked, as he gingerly tucked a strand behind your ear.

you hum in agreement while your hands grab onto his shirt.

finally, your lips touched. you closed your eyes, as you melted in his presence, feeling his warmth envelop you. you could feel him smile through the kiss, making your cheeks turn redder than you could imagine. it felt like time stopped and all that mattered was him and only him. your heart was beating so fast, you thought he could hear it too.

sohee's the first to break the kiss, his face flushed. he leaned back, just enough for your foreheads to be still touching. you could feel his thumb tracing circles on your cheek.

"wow," you both said in unison. your eyes met his, and not being able to take the intensity, you both started laughing, jumping away from each other.

"that was really nice," he muttered, "you don't know how badly i wanted that..." he eyed you sheepishly.

you couldn't help but laugh again, so overcome with joy. "you're not the only one," you replied.

you walked some more, engaged in playful conversation, and soon, your front door came into view.

"so here's your bouquet, as i promised."

"thanks. i'll put them in a vase as soon as i'm home!" you grabbed them, "i had fun today. thank you sohee." you smiled at him.

"no, thank you for spending time with same old me," he retorted, nudging your shoulder playfully.

as you made your way to your door, sohee doesn't walk away, still gazing at you.

"what is it?" you turned around.

he cleared his throat, looking down. "i wanna kiss you again, y/n."

@ lcvehee | hope you enjoyed :)

[alexstalkers]

Everything Has Changed-Part 2

Backstory: Carl Gallagher is a police officer, and you are studying Psychology with a minor in Sociology at the University of Chicago. You meet at a time in your life where you don't need distractions or a relationship, but the Gallaghers are hurricanes and Carl changes your world view. 

SONG INSPIRATION: Betty- Taylor Swift

includes: one black fem reader! slowly falling in love with carl gallagher; one slightly jealous best friend…

(Part 1)

(sorry this is so short)

----------------

Weeks had passed since that night at Cosmo, and life seemed to settle into a new rhythm. I found myself spending more time with Carl and the rest of the Gallagher clan after getting closer with him during him, Michael, Michelle and I's hangouts. It wasn’t just the club nights or casual hangouts; Carl and I had developed a comfortable, almost effortless connection. We’d spend hours talking about everything from his work as a cop to my studies at the university. It felt natural, like I had known him forever.

But not everyone was happy about this new dynamic.

Michelle, my best friend and roommate, had started to act differently. At first, it was subtle — a raised eyebrow here, a slightly forced smile there. But as the weeks went on, her feelings became more apparent.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of classes, I came home to find Michelle sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She looked up as I entered, her expression unreadable.

“Hey, how was your day?” she asked, her tone unusually flat.

“Tiring,” I replied, kicking off my shoes and dropping my bag by the door. “I have so much to study for midterms, I don’t know how I’m going to manage.”

She nodded, but her attention seemed elsewhere. “Are you seeing Carl tonight?”

I hesitated, sensing the tension. “Yeah, we’re just going to grab some food and hang out. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

Michelle’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No, it’s fine. I have my own plans.”

Her words were casual, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Before I could press further, my phone buzzed with a text from Carl.

Carl: Hey, I’m outside. Ready when you are.

I glanced at Michelle, who was now staring intently at her phone. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, not looking up. “Have fun.”

As I stepped outside, the cool Chicago air hit my face, a stark contrast to the warmth of Carl’s smile as he leaned against his car.

“Hey, you,” he greeted, pulling me into a quick hug. “Ready for some food?”

“Absolutely,” I said, returning his smile. “Where are we going?”

“There’s this great little taco place not too far from here,” Carl suggested as we got into his car. “I think you’ll love it.”

The drive was filled with easy conversation and laughter, but I couldn’t shake the unease from my encounter with Michelle. It lingered in the back of my mind like a dark cloud. I really liked Carl, but sometimes I felt guilty being out with him knowing that my best friend liked him first. She reassured me that after their first few times hanging out, there wasn't much chemistry and she felt nothing for him, but every time I hang out with him alone, she seems like she doesn't want me to.

Nothing romantic or serious has happened between me and Carl, but I am starting to like him a lot and I which scares me because I don't want to ruin my friendship with Michelle if it does happen.

----------------------

The taco place was exactly as Carl had described — cozy, with a warm atmosphere and amazing food. We found a corner booth and settled in, our conversation flowing effortlessly.

“So, how’s work been?” I asked, biting into my taco.

“Busy, as always,” Carl replied, wiping some salsa from the corner of his mouth. “But you know, it’s the kind of busy I like. Keeps me on my toes.”

“I can imagine,” I said, thinking about the stories he’d shared with me. “Must be stressful, though.”

“It has its moments,” he admitted. “But then I think about the good we’re trying to do, and it makes it all worth it.”

I nodded, feeling a swell of admiration for him. Carl had this way of seeing the world that was both pragmatic and hopeful, a balance I found myself drawn to.

After dinner, we decided to take a walk by the lake. The city lights reflected off the water, creating a serene backdrop for our conversation.

“You know,” Carl began, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, Y/N. You’re easy to talk to.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. “I feel the same way about you, Carl. You’ve become a really important part of my life.”

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of the water lapping against the shore providing a soothing soundtrack. But eventually, the topic I had been avoiding came up.

“How’s Michelle?” Carl asked gently.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t know. She’s been...different lately. Distant.”

Carl stopped walking and turned to face me, his expression serious. “Do you think it’s because of us?”

I looked down at my feet, the guilt I had been trying to ignore bubbling to the surface. “Maybe. I don’t know. She’s my best friend, Carl. I hate the thought of her feeling left out or hurt.”

He reached out, lifting my chin so I had to meet his gaze. “Y/N, you deserve to be happy. And so does Michelle. Maybe you just need to talk to her, let her know how you’re feeling.”

“I know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t want to lose her.”

“You won’t,” Carl assured me, his thumb brushing gently across my cheek. “Friendships have ups and downs, but if it’s real, it’ll survive.”

I nodded, feeling a little better. “Thanks, Carl. You always know what to say.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “Let’s head back. It’s getting late.”

-------------------

The ride home was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence, filled with the unspoken understanding between us. When Carl dropped me off, he promised to text me later, and I walked up to the apartment feeling a mix of emotions.

Michelle was still on the couch when I entered, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. I took a deep breath, deciding it was time to address the elephant in the room.

“Michelle, can we talk?” I asked, sitting down beside her.

She set her phone aside, her expression guarded. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I feel like there’s been some tension between us lately,” I began carefully. “And I just want to make sure we’re okay.”

Michelle sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Y/N, I’m not gonna lie. It’s been hard seeing you get so close to Carl. I mean, I’m happy for you, but it feels like I’m losing my best friend.”

My heart ached at her words. “Michelle, you’re not losing me. I promise. Carl is important to me, but so are you. I don’t want you to feel left out or replaced.”

She looked at me, her eyes softening. “I know. It’s just...hard. I guess I’m a little jealous. You and Carl have this connection, and I feel like I’m on the outside looking in.”

“I understand,” I said, reaching out to take her hand. “But you’re my best friend, Michelle. No one could ever replace you. Let’s make more time for us, okay? Just the two of us.”

She smiled, squeezing my hand. “I’d like that.”

We sat there for a while, just talking and reconnecting. It felt good to clear the air, and I felt hopeful that our friendship would come out stronger on the other side.

As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t help but think about how much my life had changed in such a short time. Carl had brought a whirlwind of new experiences and emotions, but it was the bond with Michelle that anchored me. I knew there would be challenges ahead, but for the first time in a long time, I felt ready to face them.

Everything had changed, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[livlaughloveluke]

Hey!! Can u write a story inspired by “Snow on the beach” with Taylor and Lana ofc bc they r the music industry. Love ya!!

𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡- 𝐞.𝐥

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you and ethan fall for each other, a new feeling that only can be described as snow on the beach emerges

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none

𝐚/𝐧: i love lana and taylor so yk i had to fill this request! if you requested something earlier, i am working on it now! also this should be gender neutral, but its my first time writing for a gn reader so I might have messed up! 💗💕

you walked down the dimly lit street with your friends, while having an amazing time. however, something inside you still felt empty. you wanted someone you love you the way you had loved others. you had a couple partners in the past years, but most were hookup buddies or toxic, if we’re being honest.

unbeknownst to you, across the empty street, was a man who had been craving love, the same way you did. he walked behind his friends, who were in seemingly perfect relationships. his roommate chad was laughing with tara, while mindy was holding hands with anika. sam was absent from their meetup, probably with her boyfriend, danny.

as fate would have it, the two strangers would see each other again in the near future.

tara and you had met through a shared class, and quickly became good friends. one friday, during study period, she invited you to a frat party that she was attending with her friends later that night. you agreed, and soon you were laughing your asses off, half drunk, while walking to the house it was hosted at. 

chad had seen you around campus, and your kind-hearted personality and gorgeous looks made him think you and ethan were a perfect match. once he heard you were showing up to the party with tara, he knew he had to set you and ethan up. 

the two boys waited for you and tara’s arrival. chad had told ethan about you, and ethan immediately recognized your name. you were extremely intelligent, and he had plenty of classes with you. he doubted that you would even look his direction, but chad begged to differ. he spent the next few minutes hyping ethan up, until you arrived.

tara looked around the crowded rooms of the building, searching for her boyfriend. once she spotted him, she grabbed your wrist and dragged you with her. the house was filled with drunk, sweaty college students, and the aroma made you gag. 

“chad!” tara exclaimed, letting go of your hand to enthusiastically hug him. “this is my friend y/n!” 

you look at the boys, and are immediately caught off guard by the taller ones beauty. you quickly introduce yourself to them, before meeting eyes with ethan.

“ethan, right? i think we have econ together.” you say, eagerly awaiting his response. he was surprised you knew his name, let alone recognized him. 

“uh, yeah! i’m pretty sure i’ve seen you around the school before.” he nervously responds, fidgeting with his hands. 

“mhm! if im being honest, I literally have no clue what we’re doing in that class.” you reply, trying to start a conversation. chad and tara look at each other with a smile, knowing you and the boy would be getting along well.

“oh, i could totally help! not to flex, but im pretty good at econ. i could help tutor you or something, i mean maybe if you wanted to.” he offers, and you smile and agree. you exchange numbers and begin studying together every tuesday and thursday. 

after a few weeks of strictly schoolwork, you start to hang out together more, as friends instead of tutor and tutuee. it started off as going out with the group, but you slowly began spending one on one time with each other.

you were currently having your first sleepover together, as friends of course. you and him were attempting to make homemade cookies, and lets just say it wasn’t going well. 

“eth, how much sugar did you pour into the batter…?” you ask, noticing the extreme sweetness while tasting.

“I don’t know, like four cups? thats what you told me.” he continues mixing, unaware of the situation.

“ethan!! i said two cups you dipshit!!” you say, now laughing at his silly mistake.

“what?! you did not!! i mean, it cant taste that bad, right?” he dips his finger in the sugary substance, and immediately regrets tasting it. he starts laughing too, to the point of tears. it really wasn’t that funny, but seeing you laugh just made him fill with joy.

truth was, he was falling for you. and he had a sneaky suspicion that you felt the same. however, this state of your relationship was heavenly, and he wouldn’t dare to ruin anything by attaching a label. 

he had never fallen in love with a person who truly loved him back, so this was very new to him. it was an ethereal experience, and he lacked the words to describe it.

if he had to however, he would compare it to snow on the beach. god it was weird, and yet somehow so beautiful. it was like watching a romantic movie, and he was the star. 

little did he know, soon you would start dating, and this unique feeling would never go away. in other words, the snow on the beach never seemed to melt.

taglist- @nowitsmissing, @nikoschrissis, @lvndryyhoe, @ieattoesforbreakfqst, @sevenheavxns, @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome, @imkillmyselfxoxo, @lumaxstans-blog, @ilovejackchampionnn, @hyeyulove, @jackchampiongf13, @sebastiansallowsgf, @michaelangdonsslut, @1212valee, @teenagedramaqueenlisa, @fherlima, @kate4katie, @itsb3a2, @maybankfr

some names wouldn’t let me tag :(

[ultralightpoe]

Busted - Ethan Landry

Authors Note: First Ethan imagine, take it easy on me 

Warnings: ghostface, death, mentions of sexy times 

Word Count: 1485

Description: Ethan lays out the rules for the slasher movies, and you notice that he pretends not to know when the slasher becomes real 

If you like Taylor Swift then look at my request event for April HERE!

Enjoy!

The apartment door had 6 locks on it, and there was something odd about that to you. 

Mindy claimed that it was completely normal, considering what Sam and Tara had gone through, and bragged about the taser she kept in the nightstand of her dorm room. Anika laughed and claimed that it was hot. 

You were still left unsettled by the locks on the door, and you still had no clue what they went through but it seemed extremely rude to ask so you kept your mouth shut until you were in Ethans dorm later, on the floor playing Uno. 

Chad had left for one of his classes a mere 15 minutes ago and you were trying not to let the awkwardness of being left alone with your crush get to you. Not that anything helped considering you were still a blushing mess. 

“Hey, uhm Ethan?” You ask, voice hesitant as you finally get the courage to speak up. His head snaps up from the deep concentration he had on the cards “I had a question about….well your friends….”

You had met Ethan before you had met any of them, having been sat next to him in Film Studies, ignoring the stupid commentary of your fellow classmate Jason Carvey. Ethan had kept forgetting pencils and you kept supplying them, then you went to share headphones when you forgot your pair and he had a good taste in music. 

Then he introduced you to his roommate Chad, where you met his twin Mindy and her girlfriend Anika all the way to the sisters Tara and Sam and their new roommate Quinn. It was a lot of people for you and honestly you felt awkward and quiet whenever you were near them. 

“What about them?” He tenses up, cheeks falling red as you stare back at him. 

“They keep talking about something happening to them and well……I don’t want to be a dick and ask because that would be way out of line and they are pretty vague about it all so I was wondering if you k-”

“You don’t know?” He laughs, instantly dropping his cards, which left you thankful cause you would have lost judging by the amount of pick 4’s he had. 

“No?”  If it was possible his face seems to light up even more and he scoots forward until his knees are touching yours. 

“You know about Sidney Prescott right?”

“The chick that inspired all those Stab movies?” 

“Yes her. So basically Sam and Tara lived in the town that those all took place and there was a copycat killer that found out that Sam is the daughter of Billy Loomis-”

“Who is that?”

“Billy Loomis is one of the original killers.”

“Got it.”

“So they survived a ghostface,” As he is explaining it all he pulls out his phone and shows you photos of ghostface and Sam all bloodied up leaving the house where the murders took place. An uneasy feeling rises in your gut but you push it down, leaning forward to set his phone down. 

“No more.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, eyes flashing concern as he leans his forehead against yours. 

“It’s all just so….. terrible .”

“Well I’m glad you know. Being around that group is a hazard.” 

“Then why do you hang around them?”

“Because he’s my roommate.” He shrugs, but something seems off with him as he stands and heads to the mini fridge to grab two drinks for you both. “By the rules of slasher films if you don’t know what happened before you are either the first to die or you’re pretending cause you’re the killer.”

“I’m sorry?” You laugh, flicking the cards away, fully invested in the conversation now. “Rules?”

He turns, eyes on you as he pretends to be dramatic. “RULES TO SURVIVE A SLASHER! RULER NUMBER ONE, NEVER HAVE SEX-”

—--------------------------

The thought that this was happening because you had sex seemed quite funny in retrospect, but it’s the first thing you think when you hear the news of Jason. 

You had been disappointed earlier when your boyfriend had canceled plans but as you sat in his lap now, watching your shared friends panic about the current events and try to figure out what to do, you were thankful that you spent some time studying. 

“You okay?” He whispers, leaning so his chin rests on your shoulders as everyone keeps panicking. 

“I feel sick.” You admit, turning to touch your foreheads together, something you had been doing long before either of you admitted your feelings for the other.  “Based on the slasher movie rules….because I lost my virginity to you, that means I die right?”

“Those are fake.” He sneers, as if angry at the thought. 

“Well you said-”

“What are you two over there whispering about?” Mindy sneers, making you blush. 

“What’s happening?” Ethan asks, pulling you closer to take most of Mindy’s attitude. “Why is everyone freaking out? Who is a ghostface?”

“Come on Ethan, catch up.” Anika snaps but you are frozen in his lap, an unknown feeling rising in your chest.

What was it he said a couple months ago? Something about- 

“Y/n?” Someone calls, and you cannot answer, eyes connected to the screen of the tv as a mask appears. 

—----------------------------------

It was a different feeling from hearing about ghostface to being actually chased by a ghostface and you were absolutely terrified. Tears were leaking from your eyes as the masked figure banged against the door, blood covering most of the floor where Quinn was stabbed. 

“Oh my god ohmygod-” You sob, hand covering Anika's wound as the red leaked out and she began spitting blood. “NONONONO-”

Sam taps your shoulder, urging you to the window where the ladder had been sat up, trying to get you to go. 

“No, her wound-”

“Y/n! GO!” Mindy snaps, her back against the dresser as Sam helps you crawl up. 

“I can’t.” You sob, pushing Sam to go first. “I will help Ani-”

So you wait as Sam crosses, holding the ladder as she does so before you call for Mindy who kisses her girlfriend before crawling herself. “Ani come on-”

“Go. You go Y/n.” She whines as the banging begins to get harder when ghostface breaks through the dresser a bit more. 

A few more moments of arguing before you both are on the ladder, you in the front with her holding your ankles to follow. Both of you were sobbing while the three on the other end screamed for you, yelling about the masked killer behind you. 

Turning, which if Ethan were here he would correct, and seeing the man right at the window, tilting his head when you look back. 

“Shit shit shit.” You curse, trying to go faster and slipping a bit. The ladder slides to the left, and you slip some more since you are covered in blood but the gloved hand of the killer catches it before it could tip you over. 

Not risking it, you rush forward, letting Sam's boyfriend grab you into the window as you turn to see the Ghostface begin hitting the ladder harshly to knock Ani off. 

—-----------------------------------------------

You were sitting between Tara and Mindy, Chad on Mindy’s other side as tears slid down her face. Right down the alley held Ani’s body and you were doing your best not to throw up, holding yourself as you began to rock back and forth, 

“Y/N!” Someone shouts and you see Ethan running up with his backpack, a worried look on his face. 

Mindy snatches your forearm as Chad stands up to shove him back, Ethans eyes widening. 

“Back the fuck up!”

“Whoa man, what’s going on?!”

“You claim to know nothing about Ghostface all this time and the second you disappear my sister loses her girlfriend when we all get attacked?” Chad scoffs and that gut feeling rises again. 

“I WAS AT CLASS!” Ethan argues, lunging for you again and getting shoved back once more. 

“Rule number 6.” You mumble, everyone looking to you as you wipe your eyes.  “Rule number 6. They claim not to know about it then they are either first killed or the killer in disguise.”

“She’s right.” Mindy nods, more tears sliding from your cheeks. “I’m with Y/n on this one, nerdy white boy is suspect number one.”

Busted.

Ethan looks at you, something in his eyes before he shoves Chad back and moves closer. “If I’m the suspect then keep me in eyesight right? But I need to make sure you are okay.”

His hands are on your arm in an instant, following the trail of blood and looking for a wound. “Where were you hit?”

“She’s the only one that wasn’t stabbed oddly enough.” Mindy sneers. “Would make sense now.”

Ethan glares, pulling your face into his chest and although everything in you screams to run away you sob anyways.

(my first ethan imagine so please take it easy. If you like taylor swift then look at my request event HERE!) 

[katstarry]

anything

eddie munson x reader

masterlist ☆

summary: moments shared with eddie throughout your friendship, up until his death.

warnings: ANGST! 😱 mentions of death.

guys i haven’t written in a while and this song has been on repeat this week so this is just something i had an idea of so i’m sorry if it sucks!!! hope u enjoy :)

feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆

inspired by anything by adrianne lenker!

it was a summer day and you had just graduated high school.

the day was sunny and hot—a perfect day for going to the local pool.

eddie and you agreed to meet there, it was his idea, wanting to spend some time with you after the ceremony before you had to celebrate with your family.

this would be his second time not graduating.

“eddie don’t beat yourself up over this, i’m sure that next year you’ll be walking that stage. and i’ll be there cheering you on.”

as you both make your way to the pool entrance, he looks over with you with an eyebrow raised.

“don’t give me that look! i mean it.” you give him a playful shove.

“mrs. o’donnell is always on my ass, i doubt that’ll change next year,” he sighed, “plus, it’ll be less fun without you there.”

he wraps an arm over your shoulders as you both make your way to a pair of empty chairs, settling your belongings down onto them.

you had brought some sliced fruit, drinks, sunscreen, and of course a towel.

“y’know i’m not going anywhere anytime soon, we can still see each other as much as we want this summer.” you finish putting down your things and sit on the edge of the chair, applying on sunscreen.

you look over at eddie who’s on his own chair beside your own, “yeah, but what if you change your mind about staying in hawkins? you should be doing bigger things than staying in this dump.”

he looks away from you and leans his head back onto the chair, playing with a strand of hair.

meanwhile, you open the container you had brought with the sliced fruit, eat a piece of apple, and pass the container to eddie. the thought of leaving hawkins was constant, who wouldn’t want to leave after seeing the things that you’ve seen? yet you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, one of the reasons being right beside you.

“i’ll just study here at the community college, see where that takes me. then, who knows what’ll happen?”

leaning back onto your own chair, you look over at eddie. his hair has begun to stick onto his skin from the heat, his loose shirt slightly slipping from his shoulder, the sunlight shining just right, enough for him to look as if he’s glowing.

he turns to look at you, smiling, “you’ll be out in some big city, doing whatever the hell you want! maybe we could even be roommates, like we’ve talked about.”

he grabs a piece of mango and takes a bite, excess juice dripping.

you smile, “yeah that’d be really nice. but for right now, i’m happy where i’m at.”

that year during the end of summer and towards the end of fall, you had your first boyfriend.

the relationship was not super long, and it never felt like there was much progress. he’d take you out to dates, he’d do everything right.

yet there was no true connection. it’s something you realize after the break up. you’d call each other—but no conversation ever had much depth.

but, when you were both together physically, you felt comfortable, you felt wanted. the cuddling, the kissing, you loved all of the relationship related things, and it made you believe you did love him.

it came crashing down when you saw him out with another girl, you were walking out a local coffee shop with robin when you spotted him. his arm linked with hers, no shame as he leaned over to kiss her, smiling.

it’s what lead you breaking down later that day in eddie’s trailer.

you had planned hanging out with him anyways. your now ex knew about your close friendship with eddie and he never seemed to really care. you realize that he never really cared about many things.

trying to act casual after your discovery and confrontation, you should’ve known better. eddie could see right through your act. be it the way you seemed less talkative, less enthusiastic, he knew something was up. he somehow always does.

he was telling a joke, trying to make you feel better—and you love his jokes, even if they’re the cringiest or stupidest ever, you always laugh or make some sarcastic remark—when he finishes telling his joke, you laughed, which made him smile.

both sitting on the couch, he laid his arm behind where you sat, pulling one of his legs up and turning to face you.

“sooo.. you wanna talk about it?”

you turn to him, your face written with confusion, “talk about what?”

“something’s obviously bothering you. and iiii do not like that.” he tilted his head, softly smiling.

“ah, how did you know?” you give him a small smile and look up to his ceiling, letting your head hit the cushions of the couch.

you see him shrug his shoulders from the corner of your eye, “i just know.”

the tears start to form before you even register it happening, and you tell him what happened.

and he’s there, like he always is. he holds you, let’s you cry to him about your ex. not knowing how much he hurts seeing you like this over a douchebag who didn’t deserve you to begin with.

he rubs your back, attempting to calm you down. you hadn’t realized you were clinging onto him, you pull back and just opt to laying your head onto his shoulder, a few start tears falling. he wipes them away and you close your eyes, feeling his hands soothe you.

that’s when you knew.

it all happened too quick, so suddenly.

one moment you were at the basket ball game, cheering lucas on.

the next eddie was on the run for supposed murder.

and now he was laying in front of you, on the ground.

dustin was kneeled with you, but the ringing in your ears blocking everything else out. all you could see was blood and all you could hear was your ragged breathing.

soon, your vision became blurry, tears clouding your vision. in one quick moment, you were back to the present. a shout. someone was yelling, you look in front of you and you see dustin crying, eddie on his lap.

you reach for eddie’s hand, intertwining it with your own, the other wiping tears away from his face. it was now your turn to wipe away his tears, but you would’ve preferred it to be over some girl, rather than it be because of what’s to come.

his hand is already startling cold, yet you still feel him tighten his hold on you.

“eddie, you gotta keep breathing alright? we’re gonna get you out of here. dustin! we have to get him out of here!” you look over at dustin, who heard you and you both move to get up, but eddie stops you both.

“no. no—” he momentarily chokes on his own blood that gathered in his mouth. he doesn’t let go of your hand and grabs dustin’s before he could get up.

“what do you mean no?!” you cry, moving to get up again.

“s-stop! there’s no,” he gulps, “no way i’ll be able to—” he coughs, blood splattering as he does so, you use the sleeve of your shirt to shakily clean his chin, “make it.”

he looks at you, and that’s when you see. that’s when you see he’s not changing his mind, he’s not going to let you and dustin pull him back.

a part of you knows, the logical part of you, that he won’t be able to make it. that it’ll be too late by the time you pull him back home.

so you cry, you cling to him. dustin cradles eddie’s head on his lap once again, you both cling to him.

“please. please don’t.” you say between sobs, your head on his chest, his heart beat still present, your hand still in his.

he doesn’t reply, he can’t. blood blocks him from saying anything else, so he brings your intertwined hands shakily up to his lips, kissing your hand. you bring your head up to look at him, and that’s when you knew.

that’s when you knew, everything was reciprocated. you don’t know how, but you did.

you both just know each other too well, but apparently not this.

he looked at you and attempted to smile, the three of you crying. already grieving what’s to come and what could’ve been.

you shake your head, “this isn’t fair! you never should’ve been a part of any of this mess! i—i tried so hard, so hard to keep you away from all of this. but it wasn’t enough.”

laying your head back onto his chest, you feel his free hand move to your back. the familiar feeling of him soothing you, rubbing your back, making you cry harder.

then suddenly, it all stopped.

it’s like time stopped all at once.

the movements on your back were gone, the soft heartbeat had stopped.

you could’ve sworn that in that moment, yours had too.

[bruh-2004]

ONE OF THE GIRLS - KIM JUNGSU

{ inspirational music }

SYNOPSIS: You and Jungsu are roommates, you two get along well but Jungsu always took girls to your apartment and spent nights with them, but little did he know that you also wanted to be one of his girls for a night...

WARNINGS: masturbation, dirty talk, explicit mentions.

You were lying on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you lived with Jungsu, you study at the same university and class, you are close friends and decided to live together to save costs. It was late at night when Jungsu arrived at the apartment, he was returning from a party and seemed in a good mood as usual, you sat on the sofa when you heard the noise coming from the door and looked in the direction seeing him enter and lock the door, When their eyes met you felt that recurring butterflies in your stomach.

"Oh, Y/N? Are you still awake?" - Jungsu asked as he approached you, stopping near the sofa and looking at you carefully, as always being soft and gentle with you.

"Hi, Jun… Yes, I'm sleepless so I decided to watch the series… How was the party?" - You asked in your usual natural voice, disguising what you felt when you were in his presence.

"I see… Ah, the party was really cool! But… Today I enjoyed it more with my friends, you know? I didn't hang out with girls, oddly enough, that's why I didn't come with someone to the apartment either." - He says, sighing and shrugging his shoulders a little in a relaxed manner, then he looks at you and decides to play a little joke. "Well, you won't have to worry about hearing noises tonight, so you can sleep peacefully!"

The two of you ended up laughing about it and you nodded, in a way knowing that he hadn't been with any girl tonight made you more relieved, little did he know that the only noises you wanted to hear tonight were the two of you together. The conversation between you lasted a few more minutes until you decided to go to sleep since it was late, you said good night to each other and each one went into your room even though deep down you wanted to be able to spend the rest of the night awake and fucking with him, but her courage was still not enough to tell him about it.

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩͙‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩͙‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‘⸊ˎ

It was exactly 2 am now, your breathing was labored and you bit your lip trying not to moan loudly as you masturbated completely naked in your bed while thinking about the beautiful black-haired boy who slept in the next room, you even tried to sleep and stop think about it… But it was much stronger than you.

At that same moment Jungsu had woken up and gone to drink water in the kitchen, when he was returning to his room and passed in front of his door he ended up hearing some noises and even his name being called softly, he even tried to ignore his curiosity. It was bigger and he got closer, opening the door a crack and being surprised by what he saw, he couldn't even imagine that you thought of him like that… But he couldn't deny that the image of you naked in bed, masturbating while calling for him it was extremely sexy and exciting.

The boy couldn't resist any longer and decided he would help you with this, after all he was also attracted to you and he never told you for fear of ruining the friendship, especially because you lived together. He sighed deeply and opened the door to your room completely, entering and catching your attention, making you jump and quickly try to hide.

"J-Jungsu!? What… What are you doing here? What did you see…? Oh, my God…" - His voice was low and halted, his body trembling due to the prevented apex and his cheeks hot with shame.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you thought of me like that, Y/N?” - That's what he asked back, ignoring your previous questions and he approached your bed making you tremble and feel anxious.

"Because… Well, because I… I didn't have the courage to tell you, we are friends and flatmates… I was afraid to say that I thought about you sexually…" - You answered him, diverting the looking and lowering your head, you had divided feelings and this was noticeable to Jungsu.

"Hey… Look at me, don't lower your head, there's no need to be embarrassed…" - Jungsu murmured as he climbed onto the bed and placed himself practically on top of you, supporting himself on the mattress with one hand while lifting your chin with his hand. the other. "I want you to look into my eyes and tell me exactly what you think when you see me…"

His voice and proximity were definitely making you delirious and trying to reason if this was really happening, you sighed and decided to open up to him starting to think you might have a chance.

"I… When I look at you I can't help but feel like jumping into your arms and kissing you, or sitting on your lap and wiggling like crazy… The truth is I always wanted to be one of your girls , Jun… Even if it was just for one night… I wish I could moan loudly all night like all those other girls you've brought…" - Finally the words left his mouth, the anxiety growing as he looked In his eyes, Jungsu smiled and slowly began to remove the sheet from your body, then sliding his hand up your thigh, going up the inside and brushing your wet, pulsating intimacy, making you shudder softly.

"Silly… You should have told me this before… I would have fucked you a long time ago… Let me take care of you tonight and give you what you always wanted and fantasized about…" - He asked in a whisper , starting to press his thumb on your clit making you moan close to his face and obviously you weren't going to deny him that even if you were surprised.

So, Jungsu placed you on the bed and opened your legs for him, with a mischievous smile and his gaze fixed on you he knelt between your body and began kissing your thigh while still touching you, moving his thumb in circles and murmuring praises and promises that your night would be unforgettable… You would finally be one of his girls tonight.

(I hope you liked it! It will also be available in Portuguese on my main account @bungbruh).

[winterchimez]

Summer Night City | Lee Sangyeon

SUMMARY: you were convinced that you were going to spend the rest of your uneventful summer all on your own like usual, that is until a man named Lee Sangyeon shows up in your life.

PAIRING: non-idol Sangyeon x f!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers au, suggestive

WARNINGS: alcohol, kissing, dirty talk, pet-names (babygirl, sweetie, etc.), sangyeon is such a flirt in this one, and he is umm topless in a pool, there's a pool make-out scene, y'all the sexual tension in this one is smth else 🤡

WORD COUNT: 2,674

A/N: i proudly present to you my submission for deoboyznet's summer on you event! i recently watched the mamma mia musical in London, so this is inspired by the song voulez vous & summer night city! a special a huge shoutout to my beloved @daisyvisions for giving me ideas (and fuelling my delusions 🤡)

“Are you alone tonight?” 

That familiar scent filled the air in the room, and sure enough, you turned your back to see the person you had been expecting for the night. 

You met Sangyeon right here in this particular nightclub a few weeks prior, where you’ve actually accompanied your roommate since she was determined to get a summer fling to keep her vacations booked and busy. It’s not like you have never been to a club before, you just usually wouldn’t have agreed since you were definitely much more of a homebody chilling in bed with some chips and beer as you put your favourite movies on the mini projector you owned. 

But it was your best friend, your ride-or-die soulmate since elementary school. Of course, you couldn’t have refused. 

As you first stepped foot into the club, there was this sense of expectation hanging in the air that whoever decided to come tonight was expected to get laid or at least hook up with someone.

Sure enough, your roommate eventually found a pretty attractive male who seemed to be in his early or mid-twenties, and the spark they had between them was immediate. Not wanting to witness the ooey-gooey things they were about to do, you excused yourself and reassured your roommate that you wouldn’t be far. 

As you made your way around the club, you settled yourself down at the bar and went for a drink to ease the slight tension you have felt since you arrived. 

Which was also when you encountered the infamous male himself. 

He was standing across the room, and his beautiful eyes glowed in the dark. Immediately, you felt something within you, and the male eventually approached you, starting a conversation. 

He was goddamn attractive, to say the least. You have come across a handful of good-looking men that night, but none of them ever came close to this man who stood in front of you with a glass of vodka soda, looking straight into your eyes. 

Sangyeon was smitten with you as he first laid his eyes upon you, and surprisingly, you both hit off pretty well from the get-go. Because of this particularly fond experience, coming to the nightclub with your roommate has since become a weekly routine. Every encounter you’ve had has always been pleasant—something about the guy attracted you even though you have only met a couple of times. 

And you wanted to know more. 

Hence, you decided to put on the best alluring fashion you could possibly find from the depths of your closet. You went for your maroon maxi dress with an opening behind your back. You decided to go for a sexy yet sophisticated look, where you were trying your best to impress the man of interest for the night. 

Your efforts were not wasted because Sangyeon immediately noticed your presence right when you entered the club and ordered your favourite drink at the bar. Knowing you couldn’t refuse, you approached him, pushing through the crowd to get to where he was. It was also when he decided to do a little hide-and-seek situation, where he would want to surprise you from behind when you arrived. 

“It seems as if you meant business, making your way so quickly towards me. Did you miss me that much?” He teased. 

“I would never say no towards a free drink. Don’t get so high and mighty, young man.” You scoffed as you took in your first sip of alcohol for the night. 

“I’d like to think that this particular dress was meant for me.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. “What makes you say that, Sangyeon?”

“Oh baby, I know it when I see it in your eyes. You want me, don’t you?” 

“Bold of you to assume I’d find a summer fling like my roommate. I’m not in the same boat as she is.” You crossed your arms while you took a step closer towards him as if trying to provoke him while wanting him to take in the scent of the perfume you had put on for the night.

“You intrigue me, sweetie.” He then takes one strand of your hair and starts twirling around it, all while moving closer to you so that both of your faces are now inches apart.

“Say, why don’t we go somewhere more private? Have a little you-and-me time?” 

You raised an eyebrow. “And what do I get in return?” 

“Something that’s worth your time.” 

The both of you hit the road as Sangyeon brought you into his convertible and offered you a little night drive around the city. You were only a few minutes into the drive and are now praising yourself internally for agreeing.

The city was beautiful at night—quiet yet somehow captivating with all of the different city lights surrounding the area. There was something just so peaceful yet appealing about a night drive around the city, something that you’d never once had the thought of doing before you met Sangyeon. 

You were so glad you decided to hop on for the ride tonight.

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other leaning against his now-opened window, he takes the chance of catching a few glances at you—smiling throughout the ride as you stuck your head out to take it all the breeze. You were literally just insanely attractive to him, and in no way did he want to put an end to all of these soon. 

“Thought we’d go for a little drive and get to know each other better. It was never easy having to talk as if we’re both screaming at the top of our lungs back down at the nightclub.” 

“Definitely agree on the latter.” You teased, and oh, how much you enjoyed these little moments where your wits would slightly take Sangyeon aback—you really liked when his eyes widened ever so slightly and then reciprocated as he shot you back with his flirty comments. 

You definitely love it a little too much when he flirts with you. And in return, you loved teasing him as much as you could.

“Hey, maybe consider taking a picture. I promise you I’ll last longer in this dress you have been ogling on for hours.” You joked, clearly noticing how he had not taken his eyes away from you since you both hit the road—or rather, ever since you met up at the nightclub earlier. 

“Aren’t you being a little too overconfident in your outfit today, babygirl?”

“If it were for your eyes only, I would gladly dress like this whenever we meet.” 

“Tempting.” Sangyeon smacked his lips and is now staring at you harder than ever since your last comment. 

At this point, you already came with the mindset of wanting to proceed further in this situationship you both were clearly having and enjoying with one another. You knew that after a few encounters you had with him—hell, even when you both first met, there was something so mysterious yet mesmerising about him.

It was as if you were hypnotised by him, constantly wanting to hit him up and spend more time with him. With the way he was always being so flirty with you, you have never once rejected them—in fact, you have always enjoyed retorting back with the little teases here and there. 

At this point, you figured that admitting that you purposely chose this specific outfit for the night was done just for him would give this whole situationship a little push. 

And it turns out you were right. 

While enjoying a few minutes of silence and Sangyeon seemingly constantly driving through the city, he finally makes a turn into a junction which leads up towards a hill. 

“Say, why don’t you come over to my place? I can guarantee you that you will get a better night view of Seoul from there.” 

Damn. We’re going a little bit too fast now, aren’t we? 

From the back of your mind, so many alarms were setting off. You have constantly told yourself how you were different from your roommate—you were never a party girl, let alone have a thing with someone, because you never really socialise much outside of your peer group. You have just so happened to encounter an attractive male whom you did not know much about at the nightclub, which then proceeded to you wanting to meet up with him weekly since that first encounter. 

It was insane that you actually agreed to go for a car ride with a stranger (well, he somehow is), and now to the comforts of his home? 

Without much hesitation, you immediately blurted out a response that would put the biggest smile on his face. 

“Show me what you’ve got then.”

It didn’t take too long to arrive at this apartment. You didn’t expect him to reside in one of the top and luxurious ones that were literally the talk of Seoul at the moment. A stranger would have never been able to step foot even through the security implemented here. Obviously, the residents here are from the upper-class level. 

As he parked his vehicle in the basement of the parking lot, he guided you upstairs towards the fourteenth floor, where his apartment was located. You were certainly flabbergasted when you stepped foot into his home—the quality and quantities of his furniture were on a whole other level, and you could tell how this was truly a living space for a wealthy individual.

He took you on a little house tour, which was when you expected him to invite you in for a little movie with some drinks.

But you were completely wrong.

“You know what the best part of living in this apartment is? The rooftop pool is shared with all residents here. I’m pretty sure there isn’t anyone up there during this time. It's definitely a great opportunity for us to go for a little swim and get that final stunning view of the city that I promised you about.” 

Sangyeon decided to give you some time to yourself as you said you needed to use the bathroom for a bit while he got ready and headed up to the pool to reserve the spot for you both. 

Slamming the door shut on his bathroom door, you looked at yourself in the mirror and truly questioned yourself on what snapped within you for the night. 

Who is this Y/N? Why have you potentially agreed to do all of this? 

But did you hate this new version of yourself? Absolutely not.

After a good ten minutes of getting yourself ready physically and mentally, you have decided to head up to the rooftop pool with the spare card key Sangyeon left behind on the kitchen countertop. 

As the elevator door dings open, you approach the automatic sliding doors, which open up to the infamous outdoor pool Sangyeon was raving about earlier. Sure enough, you noticed how the male was already in the waters, his bare back facing you as he first took in the sight of the city. 

Your presence did not go unnoticed as he immediately hears your footsteps approaching the pool and turns around to face you.

You were glad that it was already nighttime and there weren’t enough lights around the pool to show your now red-flushed-tomato-like face towards him. 

Holy. This man is truly something else.

It was how he was so well-built, and his muscles were so well-defined that they would definitely have all of the women squeal if they ever looked at them. And with his now damp dark hair pushed back, your stomach was basically doing somersaults at this point. 

And how badly you wanted to join him in the pool now.

“You’re finally here, Y/N.” 

You did not need the man to say himself to invite you into the pool because his eyes have already said so. Hence, you slowly and gently took off the bathrobe you were wearing, which then revealed you in only your undergarments.

Sangyeon approached you and extended both hands to support you as you bent down to dip yourself into the pool. Gently pulling you as he brings you back to his previous spot, he turns you so that you are now met with the beautiful sight he has meant to show you. 

The rumours were true after all. The night view from this apartment rooftop was incomparable with the night drive you both had before this. You were basically able to take in the entire city of Seoul from above, and this view was something that will forever be imprinted in your mind. 

Immediately, you began to feel a whelm of emotions build up within you, and you couldn’t help but shed a little tear. “Thank you, Sangyeon, for doing this for me. It reminds me of how I’ve always taken this beautiful city for granted.” 

“Not at all, Y/N. I’m beyond grateful that you actually accepted my offer in the first place.” 

Unbeknown to you both, you have naturally linked your hands together under the water while you laid your head to rest against his shoulder as you both take a moment of silence to take in the whole stunning view truly. It was how his hands slowly moved up to your shoulder, pushing you towards him to give you more room to rest. 

“Maybe you aren’t a bad person after all, sir Lee Sangyeon.” You broke off the silence between you both. 

“I will take that as a compliment.”

Just then, he lifts your head up and turns you so that you face him as he lays his hands on your waist. In return, you decided to wrap both of your arms around his neck. 

“You know what, Y/N? You are absolutely beautiful and truly one of a kind.”

“Well, are we back to the flirting game now, mister know-it-all? Don’t tell me this is how you treat all the other girls you have encountered before.” 

“What if I told you that that has never happened before and this is only for you, babygirl?” 

“Prove it then.” A sly smile is now plastered across your face. 

His gaze now falls onto your plump lips, and the look on his face shows how badly he wants to have them all to himself. 

“My impatience is slowly creeping, Y/N. I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m afraid I can’t hold it in anymore.” 

“Nobody is stopping you, Sangyeon. It’s all yours to take.” You proudly admitted. 

It was as if they say—when the night comes there is action, and so did it all happen in a blink of an eye. Sangyeon closed the gap between you two and crashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was slow and sensual, and the man surely took his time taking in all of it. As both of your bodies were now pressed against each other, there was basically little to no escape. Both of your tongues were now intertwined with one another, leaving no room for either of you to gasp for air.

Sangyeon’s hands were slowly travelling up to your bare back, and your hands were now tangling in his hair, both begging for more. Something has turned you on, and somehow, you can’t resist this strange attraction you have felt towards him. 

God. His kiss. It was as if it was pure nectar, it was so sickly sweet that it made you crave for more. 

You have no intention of stopping anytime soon, and neither did he. 

“I could kiss you all day, baby.”

Finally, after several minutes of that steamy kiss under the moonlight, you both finally broke it apart, and Sangyeon began to leave his trail of kisses down to your neck. With that, your nails began to dig a little deep into his skin as they fell from his hair to his bare back. 

“I bet you’re up for round two, babygirl.” He responded with a low chuckle. 

Oh, how your eventful summer has just finally begun. 

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @hokupi @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction

[jades-typurriter]

Lupa's Toll Road

A spur-of-the-moment little thing for @bluebearial from August of 2023 because I was suddenly inspired while we were having a conversation about Lupa. Please enjoy sappy cuddly plushwolf moments =^w^=

As you walk back down the hall, though, you encounter Lupa, your roommate who generally is the coolest and toughest wolf you know, but who currently is draped across the floor. She's lazing in a heap that comes up to your waist--she's also the biggest wolf you know--and she doesn't seem keen on moving.

"Oh, hey neighbor!" She greets you, talking like you just ran into her at the water cooler. She perches her chin on one of her pillow-sized paws and peers up at your pout. "What brings you 'round this neck of the woods?"

"Lupa, c'mon," you sigh, antsy to get back to your game so your party doesn't have to keep waiting. "I'm in the middle of something here."

"Alright, alright, we can cut the small talk. Pay up," she growls, putting on her Tough Voice.

"What?"

"Pay the toll!" She clambers to her feet, filling the entire hallway, floor-to-ceiling, with her buppy bulk. For as much as her size can be inconvenient--she often has to duck through doorways, and you haven't had anything fragile on a tail-height shelf for years--you sometimes forget just how big she is. If you thought you were gonna have a hard time climbing over her before, you've made it about ten times worse.

"A toll?" You parrot, thrown off. This is a new bit. "What toll?" She leans toward you, bringing her face down to eye level.

"One kiss," she coos, swapping the gruff ruffing for a sappy, teasing tone.

"Lupa!"

"It's just a kiss, you big crybaby!" She scoots to the side, pressing herself flat against the wall to leave a gap for you to squeeze through. "Then I'll let you go, like a good little bridge troll."

"Tch. You're some kind of troll, alright," you mutter. Begrudgingly, you plant a kiss on her nose and move to shuffle past her. It's like checking under your mattress for something you've lost, and unfortunately for you, it's waaaaaay under there: you're smushed between her, a wall of soft (and heavy) cushions, and... well, the actual wall.

"Mmmmm... Wait," you hear her consider. "I don't think I liked your tone, bestie. I think I'm gonna have to raise my rates."

"LummMPHHH," you try to protest, only to be smothered silent. With a shift of all that weight, she cuts you off, pinning you between the wall and her tummy. Your head is stuck against her chest; you're able to wriggle around just enough to poke your face out of her fur and give shouting at her another shot.

"Lupa!! I'm in a HURRY."

"Yeah, and I'm charging an express fee!" she counters, tilting her snout down to smooch you right in the middle of your forehead. You breathe in to talk again, and while your mouth is open, she licks you across your whole face with her big, fuzzy tongue. You splutter and spit out hairs; she giggles as you squirm. "Don't worry, I'm counting doggy kisses too." She keeps laying her lips down on every exposed inch of your face, from your cheeks to your ears to your lips. Soon enough, your cranky demeanor chips away under the sheer ridiculousness of it all. The affection, too. Soon enough, you're snickering and laughing right alongside her, and she's given you enough wiggle room to reach your arms up around her neck. You don't even try to slip out of her grasp--you use the leverage to kiss her right back!

Eventually, you're laying on top of her in an even bigger pile across the width of the hallway, her paws smushing your face between them, your hands rustling the fur of her tummy and chest, still peppering each others faces with more kisses. You nestle your head in the space between her neck and her chin, and she lets loose a contented doggy sigh.

"Hey," she murmurs, the vibration rumbling through your own chest. "What were you even in such a rush over?" Shit.

"Dammit, I left the guys hanging this whole time--whoOPMMPH." She pulls you back down to her chest with a single, powerful paw.

"They can wait, right?" she insists. Honestly, even if they hadn't probably gone for another round without you. This is nice. You could stand to take a page out of Lupa's book and lay around more often.

"Yeah, fuck it," you reply, nearly unintelligibly, into her chest. "They can wait. I think I still owe you." You can practically hear her grin from down here.

TY for reading!! If you're interested in more of my writing you can have a look here and here and please go check out @bluebearial!! she created lupa and she writes cute stuff a lot like this and also her art slaps

[passivenovember]

Boys on the Radio.

Harringrove April, Day Seven : Daisy Chain.

--

Steve has very high standards when it comes to men. Unbelievably rigid, according to Nancy; hilariously unattainable, according to Robin, and understandable, according to the one man that actually matters. 

Billy tells him that the privilege of not simply “taking what you can get,” comes from equal opportunity. 

The fact that Steve can sign up for Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, and HER without having to set his dating pool to only men, only brown eyes, 5′11″ or taller, himbo, must like dogs, must want nachos when drunk--means he shouldn’t have such a hard time finding someone to get coffee with, and yet.

Steve finds himself on the couch with Robin on Wednesday night, anyway. Swiping through a caste of 25+ gym rats and an inbox full of u spit or swalll-o, baby girl. 

Wishing and praying for a sign, like. Something to prove he’s not deflective. 

Steve clicks his tongue. Clicks out of Tinder. Clicks into Bumble. Swipes left on four guys with fifteen pack abs, Jesus Christ, searching for someone he knows will never materialize. 

Steve hates his life. 

He throws his phone down on the couch before picking it back up again, and. Opening Tinder once more.

“Billy gets so much dick on these stupid apps, it’s not even real.” Steve complains, after swiping through, like. Ten guys within walking distance alone. “How does he do that?”

“Easy. Billy knows his type.”

Steve considers Marcus. His chorded arms and tattooed thighs. His Incan Temple chest piece, before. 

Swiping left. 

“How the hell does he actually get what he’s looking for? I see these guys and, like. They seem perfect. Funny, smart, successful. Completely my type on paper, and then--”

“Just say you’re holding out for Billy and move on, Stever.” Robin’s phone dings. She dives for it, grinning and typing out a response, and like.

Steve hates her.

He scowls. “I’m not holding out for Billy.” 

It doesn’t sound right, even to his own ears. Robin peeks at him over the top of her messaging app, smile going lopsided in the middle. “’S fine. He’s holding out for you, anyway.”

Steve really, really hates her.

He opens Facebook and scrolls through his feed, stopping to comment a series of heart emojis on a picture of Billy and Max hiking somewhere in White Water State Park. 

Billy looks. 

Like Billy. 

Golden curls cropped close to his head, eyes squinting as the photographer catches him mid laugh, nose bunching up so. 

Adorably.

That Steve’s heart skips a beat. That the heavens fuckin’, like. Open, and shit, to shine on a delicate daisy chain around his forehead. 

Steve can’t believe he almost missed it. He spends five minutes picking the right color of heart emoji. Yellow and orange, with a sprinkle of stardust, and then. Another three deciding how many to include before closing out of Facebook entirely. 

Reluctant to prove Robin right.

Steve opens Tinder and promises that when the next face pops up on his screen, he’ll lower his standards. Be more chill about the whole thing. 

Actually read the bio twice and message back before deciding that no one could ever compare to--

Steve swipes left on Tyler.

Almost immediately, because. Look.

This guy is cute. Curly blonde hair and green eyes, but. Unfortunately for dude, his name is Tyler, for fucks sake. 

And unfortunately for Steve he looks too much like. 

Yeah. 

Robin makes a noise, all, “What’s wrong with that one?” Her eyes sparkle mischievously and Steve wishes she were off getting laid or something. “Besides the fact that he’s not Billy.” 

“His name’s Tyler,” Steve says. Like it should be obvious. He scrambles for something else, something tangible, before landing on; “And his teeth are too square.”

Robin stares at him. Sets her phone aside before pinching the bridge of her nose, like, “His teeth are too square.”

“Yep.”

“You’re impossible.”

Steve clicks his tongue. Clicks out of Tinder. Clicks into Bumble. Running into the same problem again. 

Too pretty guys with too straight teeth and too many abs, just. 

Terrible. 

“Maybe I should lower my standards.” Steve says, after another you got real pretty DSLs bby, from some fuckface claiming that Sundays are for Jesus and tan lines.

Men are hopeless.

Men are terrible, Steve wishes Billy was here and not on vacation.

“Maybe.” Robin smiles down at her phone, again, cheeks going bright pink when Barb says something so fucking witty, Steve, I’m in love. 

Steve frowns. “You can talk about her, dude.”

“Talk about who?” Robin sits on her hands. Swallows a smile. “Barb and I only just met. I’ve been stuck with you for years.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Robins phone dings again. She ignores it. “I don’t think your standards are the problem.”

“If you fucking--”

“Just admit that it’s only been ten years and you’re finally spreading your legs for the guy who includes a description of you in his dating profile.”

He really wishes she were out getting laid.

“Allegedly,” Steve says. Because; “I’ve never actually seen any of his dating profiles.”

Robin opens the message from Barb, grinning to herself, or. To the gods of chaos she seems to be in council with fucking always. “That’s because if you ran across one you’d swipe right.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.” Robin counters, not even bothering to look up from her phone. “Billy is exactly your type. Funny, smart, adventurous. Daddy issues. Has a thing for leather.”

“Dude--”

“Wearing leather, putting his partners in leather. Kinky but knows how to cook and clean, and how to take care of a bratty sub.” Robin puts her phone away, shrugging when Steve tosses a pillow at her. “Face it, man, he’s exactly your type. On and off paper.”

Steve wants to crawl under the couch and bury himself under the floor boards.

“I thought the whole point of online dating was to get out of your head about types and shit.”

Robin snorts, like, “No one actually believes that. We’re all just dating the same person over and over again. Making the same mistakes so we have something to complain about when our friends invite us over for wine.”

And. 

She’s not wrong. She’s never wrong. Steve, just. Knows what he wants. Who he wants. Steve aches and pines and yearns for Billy Hargrove. To cuddle up next to the fifteen-pack of abs he’s been obsessing over for years, and. 

Swear of this God awful dating sites for good. 

But. “Barbara isn’t your type.” Steve says, like. AHA! Pointing an accusatory finger that Robin nods away. 

“She’s exactly the type of girl I should be with, and exactly what I’ve wanted all along.” Robin says politely, but her eyes say fuck you I’m right. 

Just like now. Like always. 

Steve takes a deep, steadying breath. “Okay.”

Robin blinks at him. “Okay?”

“Yes.” Steve mutters, because he’s a team player. He can admit defeat, especially for a battle that was lost to blue eyes long, long ago. 

But. He opens Bumble, shrugging sheepishly. 

“One more swipe for old times sake?”

“Steve--”

“One more swipe to prove that I should be focusing my dick elsewhere.” Steve says. He feels tears burning, sharp and mean, behind the lining of his throat. “I just need a sign, like. Something to give me the courage.”

Robin watches him for a minute, and.

Must see the way he’s barely holding it together, finger tapping incessantly at the loading screen. Her phone goes off once again, breaking the tension. 

Steve takes that as a yes. 

He closes the app and opens it again. Bumble plays through an ad for Candy Crush and Steve finds it hilarious that happy endings come with a price tag. A thirty second video telling him what he needs, and then. 

The guy on screen is perfect. 

Golden skin, bright blue eyes. His bio describes a perfect boy, a perfect date, profile stocked full of personality. 

Skateboarding and surfing on the coast. Tattoos and leather jackets. Metallica concerts and. 

A boy in a flower crown. 

Billy describes his perfect boy as brown eyed beauty, 5′11″ or taller, preschool teacher. Must like dogs. Must want nachos when drunk--

And when Steve finally, finally swipes right: It’s a match.

[markresonates]

cut the tension

summary: Your friendship with Johnny will never be the same after he catches you naked in the dressing room.

pairing: youtuber!Johnny x fem!reader (ft. Mark a lil)

genre: porn with small plot, lil angst

au/tropes: close friend to lovers, roommates

word count: 3.7k

a/n: this is the 7th super delayed installment of my roommate fav song event with the requested song “F*** Up the Friendship” by Leah Kate!

warnings: hard unprotected sex, degradation, choking, tiny voyeurism, possessive, hard dom!Johnny, sub!reader

“Hey, what’s this?”

“Hmm?” You whip around to address Johnny’s inquiry, quickly identifying the subject of his curiosity that must have fallen on the dusty carpet behind your back. He clutches the once folded, jagged sheet of lined paper that was torn from your university notebook last summer. Eyes scanning over the private page, he reads aloud the scribbled goals that were of utmost priority to you two semesters ago:

☑ Find a place to live

☑ Get a part time job

☑ Concentrate on school

☐ AVOID DATING AT ALL COSTS

Obviously falling for Johnny was never part of the plan.

There is absolutely nothing between you two that is within the ballpark of your run-of-the-mill relationship, yet you can't seem to bring yourself to check the lonely box because you want to be dating him. And you are still holding out hope that this reality might somehow end up being the fairytale one you didn't know you were living in.

“Why haven’t you checked off ‘AVOID DATING AT ALL COSTS!’ yet?” Mark butts into the conversation. “You haven’t even seen a person in what, I don’t know man, like 30 months?” He pokes his head around Johnny’s tall frame in your doorway.

“Well, for one it's been way less than two and a half years.” You snatch the piece of paper from Johnny’s hands despite the damage having already been done. “...and two, it’s, um, complicated.”

“Care to uncomplicate it for us then?” Johnny proposes, strolling further into the room with his hands behind his back. He plops down on the edge of your bed, to which you shove him off.

Strobing, red emergency sirens go off in your head, confronted by the alarming threat that the cursed paper might accidentally expose your feelings for the person closest to you. “No, not particularly. But you’ll be the first to know as soon as I choose to blab about all my private, hidden relationship details, Ellen.”

They have heard the past details of the ridiculously dramatic soap opera of a relationship you had last year, the one that ended in shambles and left you a homeless, hot mess. It took you quite a while to get over that which inspired the last goal of your list. Swearing off dating was relatively easy, especially considering the fact that you have common sense and did not leave home for unnecessary, large social gatherings. Fortunately, Johnny had invited you to move in with them at the very last second about a year ago. You did not hesitate for a second before saying yes, leaving no time to consider potential contingencies with the arrangement devised by your friend.

Because that’s what he’s supposed to be: your friend.

It started off as a dim flicker of affection. The feeling could easily be confused with a light platonic connection anyone might share in a friendship. It put your mind at ease to pretend this was the case with you and Johnny as well. Platonic. At least that was your mindset up until you started having vivid dreams about him.

Your dreams are all variations of the same scenarios. Some of them are romantic dreams like picturesque bike rides, coffee dates, etc. whereas others are more... spicy. You like the cute ones but have grown a bit biased to the ones where he smashes your lips together, frantically strips off your clothes to fuck you on the living room couch or bend you over the kitchen table. Even worse (or possibly better?) was imagining how hot it would be if Mark were to see the explicit act and hang around to watch wherever it was in the apartment that Johnny was defiling your cunt relentlessly to the point your neighbors could hear the violent slapping of skin on skin.

“y/n?” Johnny brought your attention back to reality.

"yeah? oh! What do you need?”

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to be in my next youtube video.” He throws his arm over your shoulder casually yet even if holding you close meant nothing to him, it is enough to make your heart race a thousand beats per minute.

“Well, what would we be doing?” you probe, worriedly furrowing your brow. “I'm only asking because the school year starts in like 0.2 seconds and breaking my leg doing some wild stunt isn’t exactly ideal for me or you, for that matter.”

He chuckles in that way you love so much, the one that always brings a smile to spread across your lips fondly. “It’s just a vlog this time. I talked Mark into going wakeboarding last time.”

“Dude! it was so fucking scary, you wouldn’t believe it,” he comments before finally leaving the room he did not receive an invitation into in the first place.

“sooo where are we going?”

Johnny lets you go, and you don't know whether you should be relieved that he pulls away — being that there is no reason to fret over if he can’t hear your heart beating anymore — or if you miss his touch since all you want is to be his and have his large hands all over your body. He follows your shorter roommate to the door. “Something simple. I was thinking maybe we’d go shopping around lunch-ish when everyone’s either at work or at school?” Pausing to lean against the doorframe, he awaits your answer. “We can pick out clothes and then evaluate whatever outfits we come up with? What do you say?”

99% of the time you would drop everything you were doing to spend 1-on-1 time with him, especially alone, and now here is the perfect opportunity, served up on a silver platter. “I sayyy… I’m in.”

Within two short strides, Johnny reaches where you are beside your nightstand and engulfs you in a hug. “That’s my girl.”

God, you’re so fucked

“How’s it going in there?” Johnny checks in on your makeover of sorts.

You feel like a barbie doll.

When you hopped in his car this late morning, you hadn’t the faintest idea that the fashion evaluations were exclusively meant for you, with no participation of the youtuber himself in the activity. If it was anyone else you would have protested the never-ending filming of media content. The seventh place he decides on is thrice as upscale as the last boutique you visited. The glitzy, brand name clothing reeks of overpriced glamor and simply feeling the high end material on your skin makes you nervous about the high probability of ripping it.

“I’m fine! Just give me a sec!” You finish zipping the dress up your ribcage before pulling the royal blue, velvet curtain open. Johnny’s expensive camera is focused on your figure to capture every dress he picked out for you in the privileged place. “It looks...”

Your voice trails off as a moment of silence passes through the empty dressing room in honor of the deadly dress. By the expression on his face, you can tell Johnny is of the same opinion about horrendous peach dress that awkwardly hangs off your shoulders. “...yeah, I know what you mean. Okay, we have one more dress to try on before we’re done-done.” He thrusts a black cocktail dress into your hands. “Last one, I promise.”

“Got it,” you huff out of relief. You struggle with the removal of the hideous dress, wrangling the slippery material back on the wire hanger to which it belonged originally. Tugging the new dress up your body, you can already tell it is going to be a great fit. And your presumption is spot on. It is made of a stretchy material that accentuates any curves you have on your body, yet does not restrict your airways like other clothing articles sewn of various stretchy materials. The extremely short, strapless dress hugs your body in all the right places. If you were to bend over in the slightest, the bottom hem of the dress would shrink up and reveal your slick slit. The only “downside” is that anyone could see the outline of your bra and panties through the tight material. Ultimately, you elect to go on without the undergarments prone to visibility.

You unveil the stunning look from behind the curtain confidently. “I love this one. The zipper was really hard to reach but out of everything I’ve tried on today, this is by far the best thing in the mall,” you state with certainty. You twirl around slowly before he can make his request, something that was part of the routine evaluation he established with you today. Taking a pause at the point where he could get the best view of your ass, you ask in a coy tone, "So what do you think, Johnny?”

He is quiet for a handful of seconds and it is difficult to get a sense his reaction because of it. You begin to worry that his silence is a negative thing, like trying to come off as sexy was risking your friendship to some higher degree. You spin around to face him again. The first thing you notice is that the red light on the front of the video camera is off while the device hangs in his hand by his side. His intense eyes are trained on your body, giving you the feeling that he is picturing what is underneath your dress.

“You’re not wearing any panties, huh?” he correctly theorizes in a dark voice that lures a fluttering in your stomach to swarm immediately. For a moment you worry about how embarrassing it would be if your wetness dripped on the floor or dribbled down your inner thighs, but another part of you wishes that those things would actually happen.

“M'hm, no panties or bra. I just didn’t want the outlines to be seen through the dress." You shrug as if it is the most normal thing in the world to say that to your roommate and friend. "So what do you think?”

His mouth waters with every passing second he is given to undress you with his eyes. “Fucking perfect…” he mumbles before clicking the camera on and resuming the last scene of his vlog within the blink of an eye. “Not you! I meant that the dress is perfect!” He turns the device around to address his loyal viewers charismatically, physically patting himself on the back. “Wow! That was such a great pick on my part, I did amazing! and let's give my #1 model a round of applause! To those professional modeling agencies interested in my friend here, contact me for any business inquiries. Serious ones only please!”

His compliment goes in one ear and out the other. Your face falls, letting out a heavy sigh of defeat. Returning to the narrow stall, you stare at your reflection in the wall mirror, disappointed by the interaction. You can’t believe he just left you hanging like that, and what’s worse, denying it happened a moment later. Sure, it was in front of the camera and you know that he would rather avoid posting something like whatever that was on his channel, but he couldn’t spare a moment to say something more than that? Honestly, what did you expect him to say or do exactly? You can’t even answer that question for yourself.

All you know is that it hurt to be dismissed by him within the blink of an eye after drooling over you, throwing away whatever happened in the tense moment. But then again, maybe it only felt like time moved slowly from your perspective and not his. Is it possible that you read that entire situation wrong and that tension exists in your imagination? Stripping the “perfect” dress from your frame until you are standing there free of any clothing, your mind swirls with regret while simultaneously worrying whether your friendship with Johnny was on the rocks because of what YOU did.

“So you guys, we’re done-done now!” He lowers his voice into a semi whisper that you can still decipher. “shhh, don’t tell anyone but I think the black dress was made for y/n, right?” He raises his voice again, after the failed attempt to secretly disclose his opinion. “Let me know what your favorite outfit was in the comment section below. Thanks for watching and see you next time Johfam!”

A single tear forms in the corner of your eye, probably fueled by a frustration over the situation as a whole. You hear him shuffling around with the camera case, securing it in its respectable bag, then walking over to the dressing room you occupy. “Hey, do you need my help? You said that the zipper was tricky.” You worry your voice might crack so, like an idiot, you don’t answer Johnny’s concerned question. It made sense to do that at the time. “Y/n?” he repeats.

Johnny gives it another 15 seconds before he draws back the curtain an inch, accidentally catching a glimpse of your naked body. All he wanted to do was check up on you since you had been quiet for some time now. He definitely got more than just reassurance of your wellbeing.

Your eyes meet his in the reflection of the mirror at the moment your body had been half bent over to pick up your panties. His gaze rakes up and down your bare skin, fixating on the exposed wetness seeping from your slit. You yelp, leaping away and pressing your back to the wall, hands cupping over your sensitive regions. He yanks the curtain shut and hurries away, meeting you outside the storefront once you were done dressing.

The awkward tone that vibrated in the air between you and Johnny was strong enough to overpower any final observation of the perfumed grandeur of the next few luxurious stores you two passed on your way out of the building. The parking lot was no different. Whereas the first walk across the charcoal asphalt was lively and expressed an excitement for what activity lay ahead for the day, this crossing was dead silent, and had an identical mood to the drive home. When you get home, you two immediately gravitate to the separate solitude of your rooms, his thankfully being on the other side of the apartment from you. As your hand meets the doorknob, Johnny calls out to you, “y/n, wait”

His plea is not enough of a reason to meet his eyes again. You suppose he intends to apologize for what happened today. The thing is, you are not seeking an apology from him. You wish Johnny would admit he wanted to see you naked and wanted to take you to the mall and do silly things like that as a couple, not simply to film youtube videos. In prevention of heartbreak that you are not mentally prepared to face at the moment, you shut the door on him. Hearing the *click* of your door lock, he shakes his head, sucking his teeth and cursing to himself.

He should have confessed he liked you earlier; now everything is 2x as complicated for him as it was a few days ago when he first learned there is another person you have a complicated relationship with.

“Dude, what’s up with you and y/n?” Mark grunts in between huge bites of his food.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Johnny says coolly.

“I wasn’t worried about it until you just said that I shouldn’t worry about it.” Mark waves around the spoon in his hand as he speaks. “Like, that’s why I'm worried, you know?”

“Seriously, Mark! Drop-”

The kitchen door swings open to reveal your startled expression. “Oh! I’ll just come back later then.”

“No, y/n stay!” the younger of your two roommates insists.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea? And I just remembered I have other stuff to do, so I’ll… be going now,” you mention the quickest and weakest excuse you can come up with.

“What the fuc-!” Johnny rips Mark’s bowl from his grip, ushering him out the door you walked through a handful of seconds ago.

“Y/n, can I talk to you?” Johnny requests before you can follow Mark’s trail to the living room.

All you wanted was a midnight snack. You know what conversation he is about to broach and are nowhere near prepared to hash it out. The last time you addressed each other was around 5 days ago. Awkwardness deepens with every tick of the nagging clock, pestering you about how the longer you go without speaking, the more difficult it will be to possibly (hopefully) mend whatever tattered friendship remains.

After all, that’s the most Johnny will ever want from you.

It will take an immense amount of strength to let those feelings for him go (if that ever happens) nevertheless he means too much to give up on entirely. You wanted to ruin your friendship and become something more than platonic closeness and more than friends with benefits either. But you will try your best to settle.

You gulp, leaning your back against the counter. “Sure, uh, what about?”

“I think you know what this is about, y/n,” he mentions. You nod your head, giving him the signal to continue, and yet he doesn’t even know what words will spill his mouth impulsively. “Fuck, I’m just gonna come right out and say it… I’m sorry for whatever happened at the mall with the black dress thing and the seeing you in the dressing room thing, especially because you said you’re dating someone right now. I should’ve-”

“What are you talking about? I never said I was dating someone,” you assert, crossing your arms, looking him directly in the eye.

“You said ‘it’s complicated’ remember? And then you called me Ellen!” he recalls, stepping closer to you by the second.

“That’s what you’re talking about? God, I didn’t mean it’s complicated with someone else! What I meant was that it’s complicated because I want to be with-” Your eyes bulge out of your head, petrified by not only the fact that you are on the brink of giving away the top secret held close to your heart for months, but because before you realize, he suddenly has you boxed in against the kitchen counter.

“Don’t be shy, y/n. Tell me,” Johnny baits. His dark eyes lure you in, fishing for the answer he wants to hear from your pretty lips.

“You... I want to be with-” You squeal as he lifts up your body unexpectedly. He sits you down on the cold counter behind you, slotting himself right in between your parted thighs.

“That’s my girl,” he purrs, ambushing you with a searing kiss.

You hum into the kiss, throwing your arms over his muscular shoulders and clinging to him with your legs while his tongue sneaks past the seam of your lips. His hands wrap around your waist, taking handfuls of your body and squeezing eagerly. It doesn’t take long before articles of clothing are being thrown recklessly in the kitchen and your bare skin is pressed to the cool surface in which you usually prepare food. You immediately wrap your hand around his half hard length.

“Did you like it when I was looking you up and down in that one black dress? Like it when you got me hard at the mall?” He drags his fingers through your slick folds without satisfying your entrance or clit to taunt you. “And who could forget the first time I saw you completely naked. I bet you loved being on display in public.”

“Fuck, I loved every second of that,” you whined, lurching forward to try to get his fingers inside your throbbing hole. He thrusts two fingers inside you out of pity for how desperate you are.

“Didn’t know I lived with such a big slut,” he growls close to your neck, eliciting a whimper from your throat. “All this time and you were just down the hall. Probably sleeping naked with your legs spread wide open for me to come in and fuck you one night, right?”

“N-no,” you eke.

Johnny instantly pulls his fingers out of you. “No?”

“N-no, not one night. I wanted you to fuck me all night.”

“Eugh, baby,” he groans, pumping his cock up and down vigorously. “What I want is for you to spread and hold your legs open for me like a little whore, got it?”

You nod, repeatedly. “Got it.”

“Good girl,” he praises you, rimming your dripping entrance. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly from the momentary sting as he sinks his large length deep inside you. “Feel good or is it too much, y/n?” Johnny asks with genuine concern once he has bottomed out. He wipes a tear from your cheek that you didn’t feel fall.

“I’m fine, Johnny,” you sigh, puckering your lips for a kiss that he is generous enough to grant you.

He still waits a handful of moments before starting with a series of slower, shallow thrusts. His motions grow in intensity with every few pumps, burying his length inside you with rhythmic deep thrusts that hit the deepest inside you.

“I bet a dirty slut like you dreamed about this. Me filling you up whole, making your cunt mine so only I can use it whenever I want,” Johnny grunts, wrapping one hand around your throat and squeezing the sides on your neck. All you can manage is humming in agreement. “Oh, that’s right you can’t talk right now.”

You feel tingly in your core, increased pleasure pulling tightly on your cords threatening to snap. Your lungs fill with much needed oxygen as he suddenly releases your neck, favoring the hasty rubbing of your clit to drive you wild instead. The frenzied stimulation is the last straw for the building fluttering tension to burst. He breathlessly chuckles at your loud whimpering from the incredible climax he triggered, then ups his brutal fucking until he is satisfied.

“You’re my pretty whore, okay? Only mine,” he groans through his orgasm that hits a minute later.

The room is filled with heavy panting as you two catch your breath for a few moments until the silence shattered at the clearing of Mark’s throat. “So… there’s no sharing?”

“…no”

was this ending rushed? yes. will you complain about it? i mean like ? maybe?? i’d appreciate it if you didn’t though, i think we’re all strugglin with something or other atm.

i hope that wherever you are, you and your loved ones are/stay healthy and safe!

➾please take 2 minutes to give me feedback♡

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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[johnkrrasinski]

started from a call

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 3,610

Warning: angst with a happy ending! that's all.

Summary: written for @wkemeup's 9k writing challenge with the prompt "character a leaves an embarrassing, drunk message on character b’s voicemail and spends the rest of the night trying to discreetly delete it from [b]’s phone." inspired by a bit of ross and rachel from friends too. you found out from steve that bucky was in love with you in high school but after he returns home with a girl in his arm, you cancelled your plans to tell him how you feel. will you and bucky have your happy ending?

a/n: please like, reblog and leave a feedback. :) enjoy!

"Alright, I'll see you tonight. Bye." He leaned against the kitchen counter and hung up the phone with a grin on his face. "You hear that, Sam? We're going on our third date tonight." He threw his phone up into the air and caught it so casually without spilling a drop of his coffee sitting on his right hand. "Looks like I'm getting that 300 bucks soon."

"Hey, easy. You ain't going to that date yet, who knows? She could bail on you. It doesn't count if the date doesn't end well."

"Oh, but it will. I just gotta turn on my charm and next thing you know, we're already meeting the parents stage."

"Meeting the parents? That's a big step from you, Buck."

"Hey, I'm a man of my words. If I said that I'm going to change this year then I'm gonna stick to it."

"So Leah isn't just a one-time thing to get 300 bucks?"

"Maybe yes, maybe no. We'll see how tonight goes. But one thing's for sure is that I'm getting that 300 bucks."

Sam and Bucky made a bet as their New Year's resolution that Bucky would never go on a second date with any girl or remember to call her in the morning after a wild night. His commitment issues had given him a reputation as the player in the gang. It wasn't a new thing anymore to anyone that when they visited Bucky's place in the morning, they would see a girl with a dopey smile and slightly ruffled hair walking out of his apartment, giddy that Bucky just made a promise to call her later.

You, Natasha, Wanda, Sam and Steve were hanging out at Nat's place. The six of you had been friends since college. You, Nat, Bucky and Steve had known each other since high school and the four of you kept in touch despite going to separate universities. You met Wanda when you went to NYU and Steve met Sam while he was in Harvard. Long story short, after the four of you graduated, you and Wanda lived together as roommates and even started your own bakery business. Steve and Bucky lived in the same building as you and Natasha and Sam lived nearly alone. They were too independent for roommates. Don't even start on Natasha and how much she valued her personal space. That's how the six of you ended up here, gathered at your place on a Saturday afternoon.

"Are you gonna pick her up tonight?"

"Of course. Gonna clean up well, bring her some flowers and knock on her door at 7 pm precisely. Which girl isn't gonna fall for that?" Bucky walked over to the couch you and Nat were sitting on and leaned on the headrest, his arms caging both you and Natasha.

You didn't say anything nor did Natasha because she knew about your feelings for Bucky. Despite never feeling that way about Bucky in high school, your feelings changed a week ago after learning that Bucky used to be in love with you but never had the courage to tell you. That's why he never had a girlfriend during his high school years and he wanted to take you to prom and confess his feelings to you but he was too late. Another guy had already snooped in first.

You were his first love but it wasn't reciprocated until now. That's why in college, he learned how to get over you and slept with as many women as possible because he felt like he lost four years of his life of finding the one. He never intended to be a player and feed girls empty promises, it just kind of became his way of dating. He was too afraid that no one could live up to you yet he enjoyed being with women. Hence, the bet.

The day you found out from Steve about Bucky's past feelings for you while playing truth or dare, you immediately wanted to call him up but Bucky was out of town for a few days and as soon as he was back home, he had Leah in his arm. Your heart was crushed. Wanda told you that it would probably last for a few days and that he'd eventually be single again but you totally did not expect this thing to turn into something serious. You loved Sam with every fibre of your being, he was like the big brother you never had, but you wanted to curse him for making that bet.

So you just rolled your eyes and stayed silent throughout this entire conversation, even though your heart felt like it was being stabbed over and over again. "Alright, I gotta go. Got a big date tonight. I'll see you guys in a few hours." Just like that, Bucky walked out of the room without knowing the pain his words caused you.

The next day you were sitting in your bed watching The Notebook in your pyjamas because you were too heartbroken to do anything productive. It was Sunday so you could just have a whole day to yourself and do absolutely nothing but cry. Wanda knocked on your door bringing a plate of cookies and she had a pitiful look on her face. "y/n? Sweetie? I made you these cookies, they might make you feel better." Sometimes you thank the stars for bringing her into your life.

"Thank you, Wanda. You're so nice to me." You know you probably sound like a hormonal whiny kid but everything made you cry at the moment.

"Do you need anything else? I know how it feels to get your heartbroken, trust me. When me and Vision had a fight and we didn't talk for days all I wanted was to curl up and never leave my bed, so in case you need anything, I'm here." She offered you that warm smile of hers.

"No, all I want right now is to just eat these cookies and go back to my film, thanks Wan."

"Okay, I'll be outside." Your pity party was interrupted when Nat arrived in her leather jacket and burst into your room.

"Get up, you are taking a shower and you're getting that face beat."

"Natasha, what the hell? Leave me alone."

"Y/N, listen to me. I got a date for you. His name is Scott and he's a real nice guy, he's funny, he's a good friend of mine and he is really smart. He is so much better than Bucky, I promise you. Now c'mon, I already told him that you are meeting him tonight at Stark's restaurant at 7."

You whined, doing anything you can to get her to leave you alone with your tears and your cookies but you knew that once Natasha set her mind on something, there's no talking her way out of it. Damn that woman with her determination.

"Y/N, c'mon! Wallowing all day isn't you. I know you and what's good for you. That's why I found you a great guy who will charm you so good that you will forget Barnes even existed. You can't let him win, y/n. If he's going to be happy with someone else, then you better show him that you can be much happier with other people."

You stared at her, trying to absorb her words. There's some wisdom in that. You're not the type to cry over a guy, not even for even Bucky Barnes. So you let Natasha drag you to the shower and asked Wanda to do your hair when she does your makeup. She chose an outfit for you, a dress that was not too sexy but chic enough to leave a good first impression.

Scott was early to the restaurant and he looked elated to see you. He was wearing a grey suit with no tie and he had a really exuberant smile on his face, the type that drew people easily. You could see why Natasha called him a nice guy.

"Wow, sorry, I just- didn't expect you to be this beautiful."

"Ah, thank you, Scott. Have you been waiting long?"

"No, not at all. I just arrived here like five minutes ago."

The night went on and Scott did most of the asking and talking, you answered each question curtly with forced enthusiasm in your face and body language. You weren't even listening to half of the things he said because your mind kept playing images of Bucky with Leah and how you heard from Sam that the date went well so he lost 300 bucks. You kept thinking about Bucky and Leah and how they would probably get married and have kids and live in the suburbs with a golden retriever while you'd still be single and you'd compare every man you meet to Bucky. Maybe it was your karma for not reciprocating his feelings in high school.

Five glasses of wine and you spent more time nodding than talking. Honestly, all you wanted to do was to just go home and go back to The Notebook because their love story was much better than your love life. Scott woke you out of your daze, "Natasha told you that I was cuter than this, did she?" after you gulped your sixth glass of wine.

"Oh Scott, I'm so sorry. It's not you, it's me. I know it sounds cliche but it's just... I'm not in a place where I'm looking for a boyfriend. You are a really likeable guy and I swear, if we had met at another time, maybe I would be a better date but right now, I just- I have someone else in my mind." You sighed, it felt like a relief to get that off your chest.

"Is this guy... an ex-boyfriend?"

You chuckled, "no... He wishes."

Scott nodded, "look, I don't know what your situation is but I've been through a divorce and it's never easy. But eventually, you'll be fine. You can't see it now because you haven't had closure." Then it was as if the bulb above your head was turned on.

"That's it.  Closure, yeah. That's all I need. Okay, give me a minute. I'm gonna call him now and I'm going to get my closure."

Scott sat there watching you comically trying to find your phone in your purse and tapped on Bucky's contact number. The normal you would be sweating with every ring but intoxicated you had no worries in the world... For now.

"This is Bucky. Can't pick up right now, leave a message." Beep.

"Hello, yes, Bucky! Or James, should I call you James? I always thought Bucky was a weird name. Anyways, I'm just calling to tell you that I am fine and I am on a date with Scott. And speaking of dates, I just gotta tell you that I'm happy to hear that your date went well. And that, my friend, means that I am over you. That's right, I'm over you. Tell Leah I say hi." You said sarcastically.

You hung up the phone and threw your phone back into your purse. You felt like you just won a chess game.

The next morning you decided to sleep in because your heart was pounding and you could barely sit up without feeling like you might fall. You were supposed to be working at the bakery but since you owned the bakery, Wanda let you sleep it off until you recover. You couldn't remember anything from last night, how you got back to your apartment was a mystery. You tried to put the pictures together, from being forced to go on a date, meeting a guy named Sean? Simon? Sebastian? Scott! Yes, Scott. You ordered your meals and then... Nothing, it was all blurry. You weren't even sure if anything happened at all after eating your meals.

The apartment was empty because Wanda was working at the bakery and it was just you with your hangover pills. Bucky came to your apartment without knocking because Wanda told him on the phone that you were home. He greeted you with a smile and asked about your date.

"Uh, let's see. I think there was a restaurant, I know there was wine. And there's a guy, Scott and pretty much that's all I can recall."

Bucky made a yikes face. Seeing the state you were in, he could do the math (of the wine you had). You probably enjoyed the alcohol more than the guy. What a doofus, he thought. If he was the one going on a date with you, you'd definitely remember every detail from last night.

"Leah's downstairs and I'm taking her back to her place but I left my keys here last night. Have you seen it?"

"No, check the drawers. Maybe Wanda put 'em there."

"Ah, okay." He opened the drawers and found the keys to his bike.

"Did we... Speak on the phone last night?"

"Nope, my phone was dead and I didn't charge it all night so I haven't really checked it. Why?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's just... Never mind. My memories are a bit hazy right now. You should go, say hi to Leah for me."

Bucky nodded as you walked back to your room to go lie down. Your question reminded him that he should probably check his phone now because there could be work-related messages but the first thing he heard was a voicemail from you. "Oh, y/n. I got your message!"

That instantly stopped you in your tracks. Your eyes went wide and you froze. You immediately turned around and ran to grab his phone away from him. Bucky had a confused look on his face, "who's Scott?"

"Oh my God, no, Bucky, give me the phone. Give me the phone!" But it was already too late, he was already halfway through your voicemail and by the time you successfully snatched his phone out of his grasp, he had already heard every word.

Bucky stood there dumbfounded, he needed time to process everything you just said to him. "What do you- what do you mean you're over me?"

"Oh, God... Alright, um- lately, I've um- sort of, have... Feelings for you." You never had to chase a guy or confess your crush first so this felt new and my God, it was nerve-racking.

"You have feelings for me..." He said it as if he was convincing himself that his ears got it right. Bucky couldn't believe the words that just escaped through your lips, for years he had dreamed of this moment. Though never did he ever want you to make the first move but adolescent him wanted to hear you say what he'd been wanting to say to you too.

He didn't say anything for what felt like minutes and you couldn't decipher his thoughts from the look on his face. "I need to sit down," he pulled one of the dining chairs and leaned on his side in a defeated posture.

"Bucky... Please say something." You alerted him in a hushed tone, not wanting to startle him than you already did. But he didn't. He was lost at words. What the hell was he supposed to tell her?

"Look Bucky, I'm sorry for telling you this way but I had to. I just- I've been wanting to talk to you about it since you came back to New York, well- actually, since Steve told me but-"

"Whoa, Steve told you?!" He interrupted.

"Yeah, it just accidentally slipped when we were playing truth or dare..."

"Okay well," he stood up from his seat, yet he still couldn't look you in the eye. "I can't do this right now, Leah's waiting for me downstairs and I gotta go." He basically ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

Once your hangover had begun dissipating, you decided to help Wanda at the bakery and took the night shift. She must've been exhausted from managing the bakery alone while also helping the employees in the kitchen so you told her to go home and leave it to you. The bakery's usually slower at night.

When it was nearing closing time and your employees had gone home, you decided to clean up and turned off the lights and checked everything one last time before locking the door. The bell above the door dinged and you were slightly annoyed because who the hell comes to the bakery at this hour?

"I'm sorry we're clo...sed." It was Bucky. He stood there in a black coat, with an expression you still couldn't figure out. "Bucky, what are you-"

"You have no right to tell me that you've got feelings for me." His tone was harsh, he never spoke that way to you or anyone... Ever.

"What?"

He walked closer to you, maintaining his gaze, "You can not tell me that you've got feelings for me now when I'm doing well with my life and Leah..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I was in love with you for years! Years, y/n! And you never said and did anything and now when everything's going well you're ruining it!"

"I am ruining it?" You repeated the question because you couldn't believe what you just heard. How dare he said those hurtful things to you.

"Yes! I was doing fine with Leah and now I don't know what's going to happen with me and her anymore..."

"Yeah, well, I was doing fine before I found out that YOU were in love with me and never had the balls to tell me!" You did everything you could to not cry, you hated crying in the middle of an argument.

"Hey, it's not like I didn't try. There were your ex-boyfriends and your dates and I had to move on. I couldn't wait forever! And now, now you're too late."

"Oh, so what? You're just gonna walk away and pretend that this never happened?"

"Yes, I'm going to do exactly that and I'm going to go see Leah." He turned around like he did earlier in your apartment and left you alone once again with your heartbreak.

"Fine! Go ahead and see Leah because I don't give a fuck about cowards like you or whoever you sleep with." You slammed the door and tried everything you could to not have a breakdown here because you really hated letting an argument hurt you. You sat on one of the chairs where the customers would sit and you hid your face with your hands and cried.

Not because you just lost an argument but because of what Bucky said and it felt like you had lost Bucky before you even had him. Now there was no hope left for you and Bucky, things were too complicated.

You didn't know how long you had cried there, alone, in the dimmed lighting of your shop but after you felt like the tears had dried, you wiped the traces of your tears from your cheeks with the back of your thumb. You stood from your seat and was ready to go home. You couldn't wait to eat some leftover pizzas, take a warm shower and cry into your pillows until you fall asleep.

But when you were about to leave, you saw Bucky standing on the other side of the door, watching you through the windows with a softer expression on his face. You opened the door and Bucky instantly grabbed your waist and kissed you as if his life depended on it.

You gave in to his kiss, letting him pour every desire and yearning into your lips for as long as he wanted. You grabbed his face because you wanted him impossibly closer and you shut your eyes, letting your guard down. Because it was Bucky, and you'd known him for as long as you could remember and you both deserved this moment.

Bucky eventually pulled away until both of you were running out of air. You were breathless from his kiss, you never knew he was such a good kisser. (It's Bucky and he's had a lot of women on his bed, of course, he was excellent at it. Who were you kidding?) But now that you've had your own front-row experience, you felt a tad of possessiveness at the thought of sharing those lips or any part of him with anyone else.

"I couldn't go back to her knowing you are here alone and I had thrown away what I've wanted for as long as I could remember."

"I'm glad you came back." You pressed your foreheads and you rested your hands on his chest. You could get used to this.

"I hope it's not too late to say this but, y/n y/l/n, will you let me take you to dinner and see a movie after maybe?"

"I wasn't the one who said it's too late," you halfheartedly teased him.

"Shut up, so is that a yes or a no?"

You bit your lip and nodded, "yes. Definitely a yes." You stared into his ocean blue eyes, so deep and beautiful, you could easily get lost in it.

"y/n y/ln, I'm going to put all of your ex-boyfriends to shame."

"Hm, we'll see about that." You put your arms around his neck. Then a thought crossed your mind and your smile faded away, "what are you gonna do about Leah though?"

"I'll talk to her in the morning. Let's take you home now, yeah? It's getting late."

You bit your lip and nodded, "okay."

Ninth grade you dreamed of popular jocks and athletic seniors, but little did you know that, sometimes, the one who sincerely loved you was the book nerd who loved The Hobbit a little too much.