#this was a mess to put together btw. shifting the pictures around... some even disappeared and i had to re-add them lmao

[carnagefacade]

@lobiita (fuck u btw)

death isn't always simple. not always a single bullet, lucky knife to the chest, or even a clean hit to the head. sometimes it was ugly, and oh how this one was. she'd been left for him to find, body most likely cold by time he arrived. a warning some might call it. a suicide request to others. to go after the virus's ' lover ' ( a title some truly couldn't understand because how could something not even human find love ) was a sure fire way to meet death in a matter of days- if they were lucky to last that long.

she's left in a pool of blood. body was... in poor state- most bones visibly broken, crushed and protruding from body. face was bruised, the blood dried, yet in a way that appeared to be tear like in the way it had fallen down her cheeks. the jacket she'd normally have worn- the one alex had given her- was no where to be found. usually that would have protected her. why? because alex was always keeping her safe even when he wasn't there. such a shame she'd chosen today of all days not to wear it; that or she'd forgotten it in her rush to leave home that day.

in hand was a crumpled picture, one she'd forced him to take years back. around the time things finally became real for them. after the uphill struggle their entire relationship had been during the first year or two. image was of her thrown over his shoulders, arms wrapped tightly 'round. a large smile, sparkling eyes- bliss to say the least, written across face. he, of course being alex, looked bored. however, body language spoke enough for her to know he'd been content with the picture and pose. no longer was it pristine, the only blemish a ripped edge after getting caught one day. now, it was coated in blood, dirt, and perhaps dried tears.

loni was dead, truly. left to rot and for alex to find.

    for  the  first  time  in  weeks,  alex  stood  entirely  still.

    it  wasn’t  that  he  needed  rest;  he  had  trekked  mountains,  cleared  floor  after  bloody  floor  of  skyscrapers,  jumped  into  canyons  because  it  was  fun,  but  this?  a  crowded  scene,  police  sirens  &  yellow  tape,  detectives  hunched  over  &  collecting  samples;  an  overturned  bike,  blacks  &  smooth  silvers  scratched  &  splintered  throughout  the  street,  dented  license  plates  flashing  familiar  digits,  chillingly  familiar.  if  the  model  &  color  weren’t  to  arise  dread,  the  license  would,  &  even  the  densest  moron  on  the  planet  couldn’t  deny  the  strands  of  hair  &  blood  scattered  throughout  the  sidewalk.    

    this  was  an  abduction.

    the  sight  chilled  him  to  his  core,  internal  mass  writhing  &  coiling  into  itself,  his  arms  bulging  with  the  need  to  explode  out  &  hit  something;  he  wanted  to  yell  at  someone,  but  wearing  the  skin  of  captain  leland  matthews  had  granted  him  unrestricted  access  to  the  scene,  &  he  couldn’t  afford  to  let  anyone  know  he  was  in  town  or  risk  loni’s  abductors  pulling  something  rash.  captain  leland  would  not  snap  under  pressure,  captain  leland  would  not  turn  around  &  pulverize  the  mass  of  onlookers  whispering  &  talking  &  flooding  his  head  with  nonsense  while  he  needed  to  think,  to  act!

    he  just  needed  to  think.  panic  would  do  him  no  good,  &  the  viral  abomination  had  appearances  to  keep.  for  now,  he  had  to  force  his  arms  to  steady,  to  embrace  the  cold  brewing  inside  &  to  keep  up  appearances  while  he  still  had  them.  he  needed  to  study  the  scene,  &  turn  his  claws  on  whoever  was  responsible.  in time. 

    there  was  no  fight,  no  bodies,  no  pools  of  foreign  blood  littering  the  scene.  she  hadn’t  a  chance  to  fight  back,  hadn’t  dropped  legions  of  her  enemies  before  being  dragged  away,  kicking  &  screaming.  whoever  did  this  knew  exactly  what  they  were  doing,  &  hit  her  hard  &  fast.  she  didn’t  have  many  rivals  with  that  sort  of  firepower,  much  less  the  restraint  to  avoid  putting  on  a  show.  mob  bosses  &  supernatural  criminals  were  an  egotistical  sort,  they  liked  to  send  flashy  messages.  even  loni  didn’t  have  half  a  mind  to  restrain  herself  when  she  had  a  point  to  prove:  the  bigger  she  rose,  the  bigger  the  ego,  try  as  she  may  to  hide  it.

    she  must’ve  sent  the  wrong  message  to  the  wrong  crew.  they  had  to  have  hired  someone  strong  or  persistent,  someone  clean;  scene  aside,  it  couldn’t  be  traced  conventionally.  it  looked  like  she’d  been  hit  by  a  bus,  yet  the  only  trail  present  in  the  mess  was  vague,  microscopic.  blood  droplets  &  sweat  which  could  only  be  picked  up  by  his  extra  senses,  &  a  scent  which  was  quickly  being  masked  by  the  spread  of  onlookers  clouding  the  area  with  their  aromas.  his  eyes  glanced  upwards,  hoping  there  was  a  cctv  camera  around:  nothing,  all  destroyed  by...  something.  something  small,  something  odd,  something  which  had residue  on  the  rooftops.

     interesting.

    captain  matthews  had  to  excuse  himself;  slipping  away  through  the  crowd,  pushing  through  the  cameras  &  questions  with  more  force  than  necessary,  ignoring  the  cries  of  offense  &  pain  all  the  while  he  made  for  the  alleys,  following  that  very  trail  to  the  top  of  the  nearby  buildings.  what  he  found  at  the  top  was  chilling:  two  craters,  spaced  evenly  apart,  as  though  something  heavy  &  large  landed  there.  either  loni  were  abducted  by  a  multi-ton  rottingtaur,  or  something  interesting  was  in  manhattan.

     dropping  his  disguise,  he  leapt  between  the  rooftops  until  he  could  find  a  matching  set,  &  lept  around  again  until  he  found  another.  it  took  about  ten  minutes  to  find  the  trail:  craters  marking  northeast,  distanced  several  blocks  each.  it  would’ve  been  difficult  for  anything  he  were  aware  of  to  make  those  jumps  without  wings,  which  would  have  mitigated  the  damage  to  the  rooftops  if  present.  anything  barring  himself,  of  course.

    yet...  no,  that  was  impossible.  alarming.  thoughts  he  couldn’t  help  but  consider.  blackwatch  was  gone,  the  virus  only  existed  in  himself,  any  traces  of  it  were  destroyed.  he’d  know  if  redlight  or  blacklight  produced  something  in  his  city,  the  hive  mind  would  alert  him  to  it!  something  else  had  to  be  happening,  some  demon  or  bullshit  ritual:  something  in  this  stupid  supernatural  world  had  to  be  behind  this,  &  he  was  going  to  rip  it  to  pieces  when  he  found  it!

    so  he  ran,  he  lept,  he  slammed  into  buildings  &  shook  their  foundations  with  each  dash,  rocketing  through  the  air  like  a  living  cannonball  spurred  with  the  intent  of  an  arrow.  the  air  cracked  &  shifted  as  he  passed  through  it,  the  city  becoming  a  nondescript  haze  beside  him  as  he  soared,  his  hawk-like  gaze  fixated  on  the  next  building,  the  next  piece  in  this  fucked  up  puzzle  until,  nothing. 

    the  trail  reached  a  dead  end.  a  warehouse  in  the  lower  east  side.  a  thermal  scan  showed  nothing,  no  heat,  no  machines,  no  guards.  not  even  a  live  captive,  but...  something  was  wrong.  he  could  see  something  in  the  window,  right  in  the  center  of  the  warehouse;  everything  cleared  save  for  that  speck  in  the  darkness.  eyes  narrowed  at  it,  a  familiar  splotch  of  color  as  a  ray  of  moonlight  bounced  off  a  billboard.  it  looked  like  a  body.  this  had  to  be  a  trap,  but  alex  couldn’t  waste  any  more  time.  

    leaping  in  through  the  skylights,  showering  glass  all  over  the  concrete  floor,  alex  made  his  entrance;  claws  ready  &  eyes  sharp.  yet  there  was  nothing  here,  just  himself,  a  bloody  floor  &  a  crumpled  mess  of  a  corpse:  a  woman,  nearly  flattened,  with  bones  splintering  out  of  her  limbs,  chest  dented  into  itself,  laying  in  a  crater  filled  with  drying  blood.

    alex  took  a  step  forward, mouth agape.

    her  eyes,  those  usually  warm,  oaken  eyes  were  glassed  over  &  empty,  only  the  light  of  the  moon  present  in  them.  she  could  usually  brighten  the  room  with  those  eyes,  warm  even  the  densest  viral  monstrosity  to  his  core  with  a  glance,  though  he  rarely  showed  it.  why  had  he  never  showed  her?

    alex  took  another  step  forward,  trembling.

    her  hair,  usually  long  &  flowing,  looked  like  it  was  ripped  off  her  scalp  &  left  in  shreds:  what  little  remained  on  her  head   was  thrown  around  her  body  in  a  rage.  he  noticed  some  of  it  was  spread  around  the  room,  &  her  scent  flooded  his  senses  as  a  result.  he  could  smell  only  her,  &  blood;  her  blood,  splattered  around  the  room  in  a  gory  mess.  it  intoxicated  him  in  the  worst  ways,  filling  the  monster  with  a  rage  which  shook  him  to  his  very  core.

    alex  took  no  more  steps.  the  room  moved  for  him.

    trembling,  creaking  as  tendrils  from  his  legs  seeped  into  the  foundation  &  took  root:  twisted  vines  of  flesh  splitting  &  emerging  haphazardly  in  the  concrete  around  him,  his  body  unable  to  keep  itself  contained  as  a  pressure  built  within  itself.  his  cool  eyes  disappeared  alongside  his  features  as  his  body  became  more  of  a  human-shaped  coil  of  tendrils,  licking  &  hissing  at  the  air  around  him.  they  spread  everywhere,  from  the  steel  beams  to  the  catwalks,  strangling  this  warehouse  at  the  foundations:  alex’s  hate-filled  mass  going  everywhere.

    a  sound  escaped  him,  hollow  &  reverberating  unnaturally  in  the  air:  more  grief  &  pain  than  anything  remotely  human.  his  tendrils  thrashed,  splintering  the  concrete  &  twisting  the  beams,  the  building  itself  groaning  &  coming  apart  by  the  rivet,  his  agony  growing  by  the  moment,  moans  turning  to  screams  which  cracked  the  glass.  the  skywalks  caved  in,  light  fixtures  &  glass  falling  around  him.  not  a  shard,  not  a  rock  dared  touch  her  body,  for  his  tendrils  formed  a  shell  around  her,  his  angel,  his  hard-headed,  stupid  angel.  not  even  as  the  building  crashed  &  collapsed  beneath  the  strain  did  she  take  another  scratch.

    oh,  loni.

    amid  the  rubble  he  stood,  body  pristine,  not  a  fleck  of  dust  touched  it  after  he  reformed  himself.  his  eyes  were  emptier  than  usual  as  they  stared  at  what  used  to  be  loni  valadian,  the  image  of  her  fate  forever  burning  itself  into  his  mind,  which  even  now  raged  with  the  specters  of  his  sin:  judging  his  failure  to  protect  her,  cursing  their  fates,  screaming  to  just  die.  even  as  he  grieved  his  greatest  love,  he  received  no  respite.  for  what  did  a  monster  deserve,  if  not  agony  unending?

    mercer  ground  his  fists  together,  clenching  his  teeth.  it  didn’t  make  any  sense,  how  did  this  happen?  who  did  this?  they  were  supposed  to  have  time,  centuries!  how  could  he  let  this  happen?  why  didn’t  he  protect  her?  he  could  feel  the  legion  of  devoured  blackwatch  operatives  laughing  at  his  plight,  the  closest  thing  to  a  break  they’d  get  in  their  hells.  but  his  hell  had  just  begun  anew.

    as  did  the  hell  he  intended  to  bring  upon  whoever  did  this.

    kneeling  before  her,  he  tried  to  scoop  loni’s  flattened  body  from  the  concrete,  tendrils  digging  into  the  ground  to  peel  her  body  from  it.  so  much  of  her  was  gone,  there  was  practically  nothing  solid  left  in  her.  all  these  years,  all  their  fighting,  their  growth,  reduced  to  this:  a  ruined  building  &  a  body  hardly  resembling  a  full  human.  what  had  she  done  to  deserve  this?  a  life  of  nightmares  ended  with  a  bludgeoning.  

    as  he  finally  peeled  what  remained  of  her  from  the  floor,  alex’s  eyes  caught  something.  not  a  note  or  clue,  but  something  which  had  suspiciously  survived  this  wreck.  eyes  narrowed  at  the  paper  still  clutched  in  her  pulped  hand  before  softening  as he caught  the  photo.  he’d  nearly  dropped  her  when  he  saw  it.

    of  course,  she’d  kept  it.

    of  course.

    he’d  have  to  tell  ivan  about  this,  &  the  others.  fuck.

    glancing  at  her  face  one  last  time,  something  else  caught  his  attention.  a  sensation  he’d  hadn’t  felt  in  years.  a  nagging  buzz  in  the  back  of  his  mind,  something  which  had  been  silent  for  years.  the  hive  was  active,  a  buzz  in  the  night,  but  it  was  masked,  intelligently  so.  this  wasn’t  blackwatch,  this  wasn’t  a  straggling  infected  which  had  been  buried  in  the  cement,  this  was  intelligent.  not  too  unlike  himself,  but  too  different  to  call  out  to.  it  felt  his  mind,  &  panicked,  floating  away.  but  it  was  there.  he  remembered  it.

    the  parasite.

    the supreme hunter.

    it  was  alive,  it  did  this.  it  killed  loni.

    tendrils  writhed  along  his  back.  a  growl  rising  in  his  throat.

    he  didn’t  know  how  it  had  survived,  or  how  it  avoided  detection  for  so  long,  but  it  was  going  to  regret  being  made.  it  was  going  to  regret  coming  back  to  life.  but  first  thing’s  first,  he  had  a  burial  to  plan.

    fuck.

[yanjuniverse]

How Should It Be - Xiao Gui/Wang Linkai One Shot

[a/n: ah yes back at it again with another cringey one shot. i meant to post this on 5/20 but i couldn’t get my brain juices to work and finish it until tonight. i hope you guys like it. big reminder that i love wang linkai ❤️. sorry if the fic is a mess btw lol.] / master list

He sags down in his seat, visibly defeated by whatever was on his mind. A pout is prominent on his lips as his best friend cracks a smile, clapping him on the back before wrapping his arm around him, their bodies crashing together.

“Why the long face, Gui? Don’t you know that frowning gives you wrinkles?” he asks. If Linkai wasn’t so down in the dumps, he would’ve smacked the exaggerated frown right off of Chengcheng’s face right then.

Fan Chengcheng has never been the kind to just let Linkai live in his misery. Oh, no. Fan Chengcheng has to twist the knife after he stabs you. Sure, the guy’s quiet when you first meet him. But once you get to know him the way Linkai knows him, it’s a done deal. Your soul is his and there’s no getting rid of him.

“You saw my butthole once, Kai. We’re practically blood brothers now.”

Don’t ask. Linkai is begging.

“Nothing,” he shifts back into the ratty couch. He thinks for a second about how Xingjie is always babbling on and on about how he should replace it (as if Linkai has the money to replace this old hand-me-down couch. He’s a soundcloud rapper. How much does Xingjie even thinks he makes off of his beats?). Something about how just because it’s old, doesn’t mean it’s vintage. Linkai thinks that maybe the spring that pops out of the second cushion of the faded blue sofa may have caught Xingjie by surprise one too many times. That’s why Linkai always sits on the arm rest or lays like a starfish on the floor during movie nights. You’ll never catch him squished in the middle of Yanchen and Xingjie on their Thursday night Grey’s Anatomy marathons (per Yanchen’s request because how could one look at the actual sun and say no?).

He’s picking at the frayed edge of the sofa when Chengcheng says, “It doesn’t look like nothing.” He suddenly snaps, reaching into his pocket before pulling out a pair of his (nonprescription) glasses. He pushes them up on his nose then opens his phone to his notes. Linkai sees him type “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH GUI TODAY” and watches him not only put it in bold print but italics as well. “I think we should start a diary of some sort. My sister has one of those and she says it’s all a part of a healthy life style. Wait, should we buy a Password Journal for you? Okay, wait Chengcheng. Too far off track. Let’s focus on the now.” He recomposes himself before saying, “First of all, do you know your rising sign? It could help explain a lot of things.”

Linkai thinks that there’s a reason for everything. He thinks that you never meet a person by mistake. But sometimes...he has to question his life mottos as Chengcheng waves his hand and tells him he’ll make his birth chart from scratch, all he needs is the time he was born (because Chengcheng’s already memorized that he was born on May 20, 1999 in the Fujian Province).

“Chengcheng, I promise on my mother that I won’t judge you. Just tell me if you were dropped on your head as a baby or not.“ He’s desperate at this point. There’s no way somebody just wakes up and makes the conscious decision to be Fan Chengcheng. Not any sane person, that is.

“Astrology is a very serious science, Gui and I will not stand for your bashing!” Chengcheng whines.

Likai gives him side eyes. “Didn’t you only get into astrology because Justin said you were a Gemini and he liked that?”

“No!” But the blush rising on his cheeks says otherwise. “Look. This isn’t about me! This is about you! What’s your deal?”

The older one shakes his head, throwing himself back against the couch and hoping that the weird stain to his left would manifest into a blackhole and swallow him hole. He crosses his arms and taps his shoe against the ground, eyes glued to the ceiling popcorn and wondering who the hell even thought that shit was cute. He starts to wonder how much he could pay Chengcheng to eat it when the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” Chengcheng says. “I’m expecting a package!” As he gets up, he throws a cushion at his roommate before hopping away.

Linkai shuts his eyes, too exhausted to even fight back. Maybe it is his package. Maybe it’s Justin. Maybe they have another “date” in Chengcheng’s room (it’s not a real date if Justin doesn’t know it’s a date).

He’s about to drift to sleep when another cushion hits his chin, causing him to bite his tongue.

He’s on his feet and ready to throw hands when his eyes land on (a very pissed looking) you.

Honestly. He’s not surprised. You have this sour face all day and all night and it’s to the point where he’s starting to consider having Chengcheng put together your birth chart so that he can understand just that much more about you.

He crosses his arms. “And what is the problem today, princess?” he raises his eyebrows. He leans down, teasingly close, and wrinkles his nose. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Don’t look so stressed,” you scoff. He pokes your forehead, causing you to stumble back a couple of steps. “Hey!” you whine, rubbing the spot. He can just hear you screaming in your head about how he has dirty finger nails or how his hands are always so cold and boney. You huff. “You’re gonna give me a headache.”

“You give me a headache every time you walk into the room,” he shrugs, pulling back. He throws himself onto the couch again and hears the floor rattle beneath him. Another complaint that you’ll throw at him is how he and Chengcheng should just move out of this ratty old place. (“And go where exactly?” “I don’t know! Go live with Zhengting! I heard he needs a roommate!” “You want us to live with Zhu Zhengting? He’ll be on China’s Most Wanted after he kills me and Chengcheng.”) You roll your eyes instead. “But go on. What did your best friend Wang Linkai do to piss you off today?”

“We had a lunch date!” you stomp your foot.

“A lunch date?!” Chengcheng repeats as he exists the kitchen, choking on the piece of bread he had shoved into his mouth. “You two go on dates?!”

Linkai snorts. Ever since Chengcheng found out the story of how you and Linkai met, he’s been begging for you two to fall in love. (“You met in college when she dropped her books and you helped her pick them up? Fingers lingering, eyes glazing over. Love blooming like spring cherry blossom-“ “Chengcheng, shut the actual hell up. I only helped her out because I’m not an asshole.” “Not an asshole? Have you met you?”). Chengcheng says that he’s read a lot of fan fictions. He knows how this will turn out. Apparently, he’s taking bets alongside Chen Linong and Lin Yanjun as to when you two will finally get together. But jokes on them because you are denser than a book.

According to Chengcheng, it’s not your fault because apparently Linkai has terrible game. His idea of flirting with you is to flake on you half the time, watch you get riled up then pat your head and walk away after you get done ranting to him. Linkai doesn’t call that game. He calls that tolerance because some of this shit you put him through makes his head spin in circles. Plus, he’s got an image to uphold. Xiao Gui AKA.IMP cannot go around braiding flower crowns and singing to the birds like this is some kind of Disney film. He’s still trying to live down that time Xukun posted a picture of him coloring in a coloring book on his instagram story (Ziyi still sends him children’s coloring books every holiday since. Whether Linkai fills them out or not is his business and his business only).

He thinks today is going to be a bad day. He thinks it’ll be one of those days where the two of you will fight to no ends and there’s literally nothing he can do to make you feel better. He hates to admit it but he likes those kind of days because they always end with the two of you laying in his bed. Those are the nights he’ll hold you and wipes your tears, whispering a mantra of “Yes, I’m an idiot” and “I’m sorry, it’s my fault for not cherishing you.” He likes those nights because even though you get on his last nerves, he’ll be willing to admit defeat if that means he’ll get to wake up with you beside him.

“Honestly, Linkai. I don’t even know why I try with you sometimes,” you groan, setting down the bag of food in your hands onto the coffee table with one too many water stains. “Chengcheng, come join us for lunch.”

“Oh, I don’t wanna intrude on your date,” he says.

You smile at him. “It’s not an actual date.“

There’s a weird look on your face as you say that. It’s a look you get that Xiao Gui has never been able to read. Your smile is big but your eyes never seem to match. Your shoulders visibly sag and your movements slow for a second before you seem to realize what you’re doing and get back to being normal. “Come!”

“No,” Linkai plops down on the floor next to you. “He has a lab with Justin due at midnight tonight. He needs to leave.”

“Hm? You keep tabs on me?” Chengcheng has a shit eating grin on his face which quickly disappears as Linkai scoffs.

“No. You’re wearing cologne for once and don’t look oily. From just that, I know you’re going to meet Justin,” he says. “You usually smell like terrible B.O. and your hair looks dry. As for your project, you have it written on your calendar inside of a big red heart. I saw it when I went to steal the five bucks from your dresser earlier.” Chengcheng sputters, face red with embarrassment.

You swat Linkai’s shoulder. “Leave him alone,” you frown. “Don’t worry about him, Cheng. You always look and smell great to me!” you grin encouragingly before turning back to Linkai again to whisper yell. “He has a crush. Don’t tell me you’ve never gotten dressed up for somebody you liked.”

“Hey!” he says louder than you expected considering this was supposed to be a hushed conversation. “I’m wearing the jeans you said make my ass look fat,” he retorts. You simply roll your eyes before returning to Chengcheng. Once again, you’ve reminded not only Linkai but the world that you are denser than a book. He makes a face. “You expect me to read your mind and yet you never seem to be able to read mine,” he mutters under his breath, forcefully stabbing into his rice.

“What was that?” you turn back to him. He shakes his head, shoveling a load of food into his mouth to keep you from pressing. You thankfully don’t and once again, turn to Chengcheng. “I think you look amazing. Really. Go get him! He’ll be in your arms in no time!”

“Thanks, jiejie!” the dopey boy grins. “I’ll be on my way then. Be back tomorrow morning. Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone!” he winks. He’s out the door before Linkai can kill him (as if Linkai even had the energy to do so).

He’s too busy dissecting his meat to notice your cold stare. You have to clear your throat for him to look up and see your face. He groans, “What the hell did I do now?”

“You should be more supportive of Chengcheng.”

“More supportive? Any more supportive and I might as well just text Justin and say ‘Hey dinghead! Chengcheng is in love with you!’” he scoffs. “Honestly, it doesn’t get any more supportive than me.” He’s actually offended that you don’t think he’s all for Chengstin. Linkai is the vice president of the Chengstin fanclub, only coming second to You Zhangjing. “Who do you think always makes sure there’s ice cream in the fridge when Justin comes over? Who do you think hops off our shitty ass wifi when Justin comes to watches movies? Who the fuck ran across town just to fight with sneaker heads to get Justin the newest pair of shoes because Chengcheng was stuck in class? Have you ever had to fight a sneak head, YN? Have you?” His eyes are wild as if he’s seen some things he’d rather not talk about.

You sigh. “I just think you need to be nicer to him,” you shrug.

“Last week you told me not to let Chengcheng step all over me,” Linkai points his chopstick accusingly at you.

“Because you were deadass tired and up doing his laundry while he slept!” you exclaim.

Linkai snorts. You’re honestly a walking contradiction when it comes to him. “Just eat and be quiet. I’ve already got a headache. Don’t make my stomach upset too with all of your nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense, Linkai!”

“If it’s coming from you, it is.” He shuts his foam to-go plate and stands to his feet before you could give him another earful. “I’m gonna go get a drink. Want anything? Water? A soda? A shot of vodka?”

“Ten more minutes with you makes the last option sound more appeasing than it should,” you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Nobody is forcing you to be here,” he reminds you, patting your head as he walks away. When he returns, he’s made two pretty drinks and winks at you. Bottoms up, his eyes say.

“Really? Drinking on a Tuesday?” you scoff.

“Whether it’s a Tuesday afternoon or a Saturday night, you will always find a reason to complain,” he replies. You roll your eyes, taking a sip and feeling the alcohol burn down your throat. You grimace before setting it back down on the table. “So what do you wanna do now, hm? Watch a movie? Make me watch you online shop?”

“Maybe I could put make up on you and do your hair,” you suggest.

It’s his turn to roll his eyes. “You say that everyone elses’ boy friends do this for them and yet, I feel as though I’m the only one.”

“Boyfriend?” you repeat, completely disregarding anything else he had said.

“Boy. Space. Friends,” he says before leaning back onto his hands. “Why? Do you wanna remove the space in between us?” he wiggles his eyebrows before swooping in close to you, noses bumping. You freeze at this. “What?” he smirks when you don’t push him away like usual. “You actually thinking about kissing me this time?”

You scoff, shaking your head and moving away from him. “Wang Linkai,” you scoff again. “You really are something else. You know that? Kiss you? My best friend? I’d rather eat sand or-“ You stop, looking at him and seeing the way his eyes cast down for a second. “What?”

He looks back up. “Nothing,” he says before pulling himself to his feet again. He stretches his arms over his head and yawns. “Come. Let’s go shop. Or something. I don’t know.” He shakes his head and reaches for his drink. Maybe he shouldn’t have poured so much alcohol into his drink. One sip and he’s already a mess. “What?” He notices you still haven’t moved from your spot on the floor. “Hurry up and put on your jacket. Or do I have to so it for you?” He makes a swipe to grab your arm but you pull back, holding it against your chest. “YN, what?” he sighs, a bit annoyed. “Are you mad at what I just did? Look, I’m sorry. Let’s just-“

“Linkai,” you frown. “Why do you look so sad?”

“It’s nothing,” he replies, walking around and looking for his keys.

“It’s doesn’t seem like nothing to you.” Your words are careful, almost as if you’re trying to find the right wire to cut in order for the bomb not to explode. It’s always like that when the two of you argue this deeply. And sadly, it always ends with somebody crying.

“Because it’s never anything to you!” he throws a hand down dramatically. “So like. Let’s go because I’m not going to do this today!”

“Do what today?” you ask, standing to your feet. He shakes his head and makes it towards the door when you grab his arm. He instantly spins around and pins you against the wall, arms encasing you. You narrow your eyes at him. “What’s your deal?” you huff.

“It’s not even a bit obvious to you?” He’s smiling like a deviant. Like you’re just playing into one of his cold jokes. “Are you really that stupid?”

“What did I do to you?” you cross your arms.

“Everything,” he says, eyes casting downwards. You feel your heart starting to hammer as you realize he’s staring right at your lips. “You waltz into my life and make it absolute hell. You expect me to just know what’s on your mind. You expect me to just know what makes you happy and what makes you sad. You expect me to just know these things and I don’t and it makes me so tired and yet...” he laughs coldly. “And yet when I look at you, I want to be defeated. I want to fall at my knees at your mercy. It’s been like this since the day we met.” His hand slowly makes its way up to your cheek, cupping the glowy red flesh between his fingers. “C’mon, YN. How should it be? What do I have to do to make you like me as much as I like you?”

“Linkai, you idiot! If you liked me, you should’ve just told me!” you pout.

“And then you would’ve found something to complain about then as well,” he rolls his eyes. “Honestly, YN. Just lighten up with me sometimes. I’m trying.”

“You’re always trying,” you smile. “That’s what I like about you.”

“You wanna know a secret?” he asks, leaning in closely. “I only try his hard for you.”

And as his lips finally land on yours, you realize that this is exactly how it should have been all along.

[iluvmyogblog]

Roommates, Routines and Best Friends

A/N: So to be completely honest with you guys, i have written several versions of this part and am still so conflicted. I hope this comes out great, and i hope u guys love it n fall apart n ALLLL that good stuff. btw doesnt sebby look like a fuckinggggggg dream.........

Summary: (AU) being roommates with the infamous womanizer Bucky Barnes is tough, especially when all he does is bring home different girls every night and complain about you and your choice of men. masterlist.

Words: 2768

Warning(s): language, always!!!

Roommates, Routines and Best Friends : Today A Month Ago

Today marks exactly a month since you met Steve. A month since that stupidly amazing party Bucky dragged you to. You and Steve decided to be cheesy and celebrate today. Bucky protested, saying that it was so annoying when new couples did that. But you and Steve weren’t a couple. Not yet. It’s only been a month! You’re not one to jump into a relationship so quickly, especially after the whole Sam thing. You were still a little scared to put yourself out there. You would always have long talks about that with Bucky. Always. And he’d always know exactly what to say. Always.

You were walking to the kitchen when you see Bucky also walking out of his room. You flash him a quick smile. That smile was enough to make Bucky’s heart jump out of his chest. “Good morning, doll.”

“Good morning, Buck,” you nearly whispered. You were so tired. Your energy was drained from you, your hair was a mess and you had bags under your eyes. You were excited about seeing Steve today but the part of you that wants to climb back into bed hopes that he gets busy all of a sudden. 

“Woah, don’t you look dapper this morning,” Bucky chuckles and pours you a glass of orange juice as he watches you slump into a chair. You don’t say anything, you just put your head down and groan. Bucky sighs softly and walks over to you, sliding the orange juice into your hand. The tip of his fingers brush against the palm of your hand. You feel him start to ruffle your hair, tangling it even more. You groan again, ignoring how good it felt. 

Bucky continues to look at you. He continues to play with your hair. He starts to imagine what it would be like if you two were more than friends. If you two were more than just roommates. If you two shared the same bed. “Hey Buck, can you carry me to my bed. I’m too tired to be awake right now, I don’t even know why I got up,” you mumble. Bucky nods and you feel his arms swoop you up. You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his chest as he carries you back to your room. You soon feel yourself being put down on fluffy comforters that smell like Bucky. 

“My bed is more comfortable than yours,” you hear Bucky whisper as he tucked you in. He wasn’t wrong. His sheets were always washed and switched out- because of you know, his special lady guests. You nod and snuggle deeper into the sheets, grabbing a pillow and snuggling up to that as well. You open one eye and watch Bucky walk across his room and close the curtains. You smiled softly at that notion. Before you two began to even stand each other, you had always complained about how dark his room was. ‘And for crying out loud, open your curtains. Don’t be so depressing all the damn time, Bucky.’ you would say. 

“Hey, (y/n). Can I ask you something,” Bucky questioned. Sitting up, you watch the dark haired man look at you shyly. You knit your eyebrows in concern, partly confused as well. He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and slowly sits at the edge of his bed. To the both of you, it felt like the room was closing in. You weren’t sure what it could be nor were you sure how you would answer the question. 

“Of course, Buck,” you gently say as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

“What did you mean by what you said a while back? About the party? And me going with you... like on a date? What did you mean?”

The redness on your cheeks start to show, your stomach tangling in knots. You should’ve seen this coming. You should’ve known he’d bring it up. You just shouldn’t have said anything. You gulp and look at your hands. “I just- I.. I don’t know Bucky. For some strange reason I just thought for a second that you had asked me out on a date. You know? I mean I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, I’m not confessing any feelings... cause there’s none. I just thought it was a date. You know how weird I get when guys ask me to hang out with them.”

“But it’s us, doll. What’s there to be weird about? You know I wouldn’t be grossed out or anything.. I mean, maybe a little,” he teased, brightening the mood. He sees how tense your shoulders are. He needed to lighten the mood. He just put you on the spot. You weren’t used to that. The remark worked, and you laughed. Relaxing yourself a bit more.

“You’re the worst, James.” He chuckles and playfully nudges you. You nudge him back, which just causes him to just push you a little harder. The two of you were laughing, honestly kind of forgetting how thick the air was a few seconds ago. You let yourself fall back onto his sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you cross your hands on your stomach. Bucky shifts and props himself up on his elbow, looking at you. You tug on your bottom lip, thinking about the party again. You hated that you read signs wrong. You weren’t too dapper about social cues. “So, quick question. Did you take that blonde chick home?”

He stays quiet for a few seconds, staring at you. Watching your smirk disappear once you notice he’s been quiet for far too long. He watches you turn your head to him, eyes meeting his. He shakes his head, “no. Honestly, I just said I got laid. I don’t know why. I lied to you.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him. His brown hair a beautiful mess on top of his head. His stupid eyes burning holes through you with that dumb twinkle he always has in them. His perfectly sculpted arms that complimented every shirt he wore. “Why,” you whisper, completely confused. You truthfully didn’t know that he was even capable of lying to you. He also thought you’d see right through him when he lied. And honestly, you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Steve. Steve, the charming guy you met at the party. Steve who left his friends to drink a glass of champagne with you. 

“Do you know what happened? When I left to get you a drink?” You shake your head and wait for him to continue. He breaks eye contact and looks at his hands. He starts to fiddle with them. He did that when he was nervous. You would always grab his hands when he did that, just in case he needed comfort. Which he always did. He was a baby, in a way. He loved affection. Probably why he couldn’t sleep more than three nights alone. “As soon as I left your side, I got a text from a friend. Well, from Steve.” Pause. Looks up at you, then quickly back to his hands. “Steve says, ‘tell me she said yes’. Steve was the one who persuaded me to ask a certain girl out.”

“Wait, who?” Your heart was racing. You began to think that he actually did ask you out. And you had totally ditched him for Steve.

“Um, I- I never told you about her. But I worked with her. She’s really badass, you know? Plus she’s really really h-”

“I get the picture.”

Bucky nods, “right. Well she said she was busy. So obviously that’s a no. I wasn’t gonna go. But Mr. Stark insisted that I do.”

He pauses and watches you. You were trying to piece the puzzle together while staring at your feet.  “So.. I was a back up plan?” You tried to hide the obvious sting with a slight nudge and a smirk. Bucky saw right through that.

“No, doll. Don’t say that. I had a good time,” he says. You nod, feeling his fingers tug the hemline of your shirt. “I text Steve back. Told him I was at the party with someone better, cooler. And prettier, way prettier.” You laugh and shake your head, ignoring his attempts to win you back. “And Steve wanted to meet up. He was with a friend also. His friend was meeting up with his girlfriend and Steve wanted to drink a beer with me. He didn’t wanna be alone, you know? But I told him I was here with someone. He said alright, went on his own, I went to get you that drink you wanted. Then that girl-”

“The blonde bimbo that was basically undressing you with her eye-”

“She had a boyfriend, (y/n). He was standing right next to her. They wanted to know what drink I ordered. Said it looked fancy,” Bucky interrupts. You felt dumb. You felt embarrassed. Shocked.

You let out a breathless laugh, staring at the ceiling now. “It’s the cherries and olives. Always pick the right garnishes,” you whisper. 

“Then I saw you with Steve..,” he trails off, causing you to look at him. “You looked good. Standing next to him. Like you two were made for each other. Then you laughed, and I swear, I knew right there... I knew that it wasn’t a date.”

“Bucky, what are you trying to say?”

You’re now sitting up, staring straight into his eyes. Heart pounding out of his chest. The truth was that when you walked out of your room wearing nice jeans and a really complimenting blouse, with your hair falling perfectly down your back and your eyelashes coated with the perfect amount of mascara- he knew that he was glad that he got rejected that night. The way the dim lights brightened your smile, and the way a champagne glass looked in your hand. It was driving him crazy. The fact that he walked into a party like that with you by his side made everything that much better. He didn’t expect Steve to be there. He didn’t care. That was until he saw the look in your eyes when they’d meet Steve’s blue ones. “I’m trying to say that... it was the best unintentional date I have ever had. Even if it was just for a few minutes,” he says, adding a faint smile at the end. He knew you were happy. He knew this would make you feel bad, but he had to just clear the air. You suck in a quick dose of air, blinking away those stupid butterflies and smile lightly, nodding. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure, Bucky.” 

“If you thought it was a date, you said yes. Why?”

Now it was your turn to get flustered. You felt your palms start to sweat. You shrugged. “I don’t know, Buck. It’s you. For a second, I saw you as the Bucky who brings home girls at two in the morning,” you nervously laugh. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what Bucky wanted to hear. You didn’t want to say the wrong things.

“Oh, okay. Makes sense.” He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. You don’t either. “You wanted to come home with me?” he asks. You can hear his words drenched in that smirk of his.

“Oh my god, Bucky.”

“Kidding. In the end, you come home to me anyways.”

You felt those dumb butterflies. You changed the subject to the first thing that pops into your head. “By the way, who was the girl that rejected you?”

His cheeks turn red and he laughs, looking down. “Really, doll? We’re gonna talk about this?”

“Well of course. I gotta know who turned down your charm!”

He groans and throws himself back onto his bed, covering his face with his hands. He lets out a huff and slides his hands down his face. “ Way to change the subject,” he sighs, “she’s Starks’ Secretary, or maybe she got promoted? Not sure anymore. Her names Natalia- Natasha, actually. That’s what everyone calls her.”

“Natasha?”

He nods. “Yeah, she has this crazy, re-”

“Red hair.”

Bucky nods again and looks at you. “Yeah! You know her?”

You stare blankly ahead of you and smile, nodding. You chuckle softly, shaking your head now. “Yeah,” you croak, “I mean, kind of?”

Bucky whispers your name, breaking you out of whatever trance you were in. He’s sitting right next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with a look of sympathy. A look of hurt equaled to yours. “She’s the one?” 

You nod again. “She’s always the one, Buck.”

“You never told me her name. (Y/n), there’s nothing going on betwe-”

“Bucky, it’s completely okay if you like her. I truly don’t mind- that’s, if you like her that’s okay.”

He repeats your name, stopping you from rambling on. “Shut up, doll. I’m not interested.. anymore. Like at all.” You smile and look up at him, scanning his face. Of course Bucky would like her. Of course she’d catch his attention. She catches everyone’s attention. “Hey, Sam’s an asshole. Don’t think about him. You’re going out with Steve. Steve’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. I promise. He won’t hurt you, doll. Especially not on my watch.”

“You always know what to say, James. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he gives you that stupid look again. The one where it looks like his chest is hurting, like his heart is crying. Like he regrets something, misses, longs for something. But you don’t know what. “Go get ready. You got that cheesy date with Steve. Remember? Or did laying in my bed make you wanna stay here forever?”

“Bucky, shut up,” you playfully push him as you get off his bed. You had honestly completely forgot about the date with Steve. It felt like a hundred hours that you were there with Bucky, which it was only two. You threw a pillow that was on the floor at him and he catches it, of course. He had quick reflexes. Too quick. Nothing went past him. And you liked that.

“Tell your boyfriend to text me back. He left me on read,” Bucky shouts as you walk out his door, “bestest best friend ever,” he mumbles. You giggle and take a mental note. ‘Tell Steve to text his boyfriend’.

Bucky got up and shut his door. Like he always is before you go out with Steve, Bucky was sad. He was bummed again. If he had just been upfront and asked you out on a real date, or if he had went up to you and Steve instead of darting out of there as soon as possible. He started to think about the party again. He started thinking about what you had told him before you even knew Steve existed.

“Okay. I’ll set it up right now, doll. Any guy you want, you’ll get.”

“You want me to choose?”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“And you’ll get them to come talk to me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Bucky, I don’t wanna play.”

“Oh, come on. Look at that guy. He has a beard. You like beards.”

“Too long. Plus, I don’t even know him. Besides, you have a beard too.”

“How about my ex boss?”

“Tony? He’s married!”

“Him?”

“No.” This went on for a few minutes. You crossing off guys, making faces every time Bucky would point someone out.

“What ab-”

“No, I’m absolutely a hundred and ten percent serious, Bucky. Out of every one in this expensive ass house party, I’d still choose to go home with you.”

“Like you have a choice,” he chuckles, leaning in to you as he tries to speak over all the other conversations. 

“Choice or not, I’d still go home with you, James.” Your words made him weak. They made him weaker than he’s ever been. His legs felt like jello when he saw the look in your eyes. It wasn’t alcohol, he hadn’t got you a drink yet. It was happiness. True happiness. Him making you get this look. He wanted to kiss you right there. He really did. But like he always does, he got scared. He got scared, so instead of kissing you, he asked if you wanted a drink.

A stupid drink. ‘What the hell was wrong with me’ Bucky thought to himself. He knew that if it wasn’t Steve, he would be fighting for you. He would be wrapping his arms around you right now, making you want to stay in bed with him. But it’s Steve. And Steve always gets what he wants.

•••

again, if i 4got tags, lmk ❗️❗️

this was a tough 1, it gets better I PROMISE. but aside from that, i wanted to know if you guys would be interested in like.... writing a chapter?? like any kind of chapter you guys want. I JUST REALLY WANNA SEE WHAT KIND OF DIRECTION YOU GUYS WANNA TAKE IT IN!!!!

so we kind of got a sense as to what happened with Sammy boy... hmm.. ❗️

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