#i’ve played many many hours now and i’m just not convinced it’s different enough from botw

[milf-erasure]

i feel like people have been jumping to attack anyone who says negative things about totk… but i’m kind of……. disappointed in it for various reasons. i’ve played every 3D zelda game (and loved most of them so i’m not a random hater lmao) and this just doesn’t feel like part of the series to me. the dungeons are incredibly lackluster and the whole fusing/ultrahand building stuff is janky and does not work well imo. the depths are cool at first but get old fast. the good stuff about totk is almost exclusively stuff from botw with a few exceptions. idk man. i think i got my hopes up too high

[runningincircl3s]

okay i’ve had this idea for a while now and i’ve tried writing it in so many different ways but i’m just gonna put it out there like this and see where we go from here i just need to get this out of my head!!

18+ NSFW MDNI!!!!!

bestfriend!noah who would always come to your house when you were both younger to play. you’d spend hours in your garden, going to the park, watching the sunset and wondering how long it would be until your parents called to tell you to come home.

as you grew up and got older you only grew closer, you were never without each other. so when your parents were away and you decided, as a random act of kindness, you would clean up the house for them, and there was no one else you’d rather ask to help you than your best friend!

however, by the time he arrived, you were done with cleaning the majority of the house, and next you decided to move on to your bedroom. you knew you had things around your room that would be embarrassing if anyone else was to see, such as old pairs of underwear you’d lost or your stuffed animals, but you knew that was nothing to noah. you’d seen much worse in his bedroom.

what you didn’t expect was for noah to find your collection of sex toys. you were convinced he was purposely looking for them, as you were certain you’d hid the box pretty well. he knew from a game of truth or dare that you owned a couple toys, but he didn’t expect the amount that was in the box. he was smiling like a kid at christmas, whilst you felt your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

he inspected each toy, asking you how they worked, but you knew he didn’t care. you could tell what noah really wanted was to try them out on you, and it didn’t take much persuading you to let him.

you’d explored each others bodies before, he was your best friend after all. how do you think he got so good at (and loves) eating pussy? he’d been practicing on you for years. why do all the guys you’ve ever given head say you were their best? because you’ve been practicing sucking noah’s dick whenever you would stay at his. when you’ve had a tough day at work noah was always there to be your shoulder to cry on, the same shoulder you’d be biting down on as he’d fuck you to tears, making you forget all about whatever upset you. and the same went for him, when he’d be stressed and burnt out after a long day in the studio, you’d be over in ten minutes, undressed on his bed with your legs spread, or on your knees for him.

you thought as you became adults, there’d be no more playing with each other, but right now your best friend was sat on your bed, trying out each of your toys on you, seeing what reaction it would bring out of you, what pretty noises would escape your lips, what happened if he pressed the vibrator down harder, or if he fucked you slower with the dildo. you were begging him to let you cum, but he hadnt tried out every toy yet!

the first one he took from the box as you slid your panties down and spread your legs for him was a simple bullet vibrator, nothing fancy. you could tell he was concentrating as he pressed it against your clit with one hand, the other spreading your lips so he could get a better view. he began switching up the speed as he saw your breathing get heavier and you began to bite down on your hand, and it was over for you, but he wasn’t letting you cum yet.

he teased you with this one until you were wet enough for the next toy, and he’d chosen one of your dildos. you’d never tell him that the reason you bought this particular one was because it was the closest they had to his size, and every time you used it you only imagined one person- but it didn’t quite manage to hit all the spots noah could.

he continued teasing you, watching your eyes fill with tears as you pleaded to him, begging him, you were so desperate to cum, but you weren’t allowed to until he’d tried out every toy on you. he’d already used three different vibrators, two dildos and a plug which he had more fun with than he’d ever admit, especially when you told him you’d never used it before. but the last one was your rose toy, and you were so glad he saved this one until last.

as he pressed it against you, you couldn’t help but whimper, it had recently been charged so even on the lowest setting it was still powerful.

“you like this one, huh?”

“that feel good baby?”

“you can cum now, sweet girl. you’ve done so well for me”

it took only a matter of seconds for you to fall apart, your release soaking the bead sheets and noah’s wrist he used to hold the toy, his other hand placed on your thigh, keeping your legs spread for him. your legs shook and you attempted to shut them, thinking noah was done, but he held them open.

just when you thought that was it, he had an evil idea. he wanted to see you finish on each of them, so he picked up the wand vibrator and your plug and began again, not giving you long to come down from your first orgasm. he dipped his fingers into you, groaning at how wet and warm his best friend was, before coating the plug with your juices, he knew you could probably take it but he didn’t want to take any chances. he brought it to your hole, slowly pressing it in before pulling it back out again, watching as it made your clit throb and you moaned his name. he cooed, telling you how needy you are, before he slid it into you, twisting it so the sparkly heart was the right way around. he then took the vibrator again, switching it to a medium setting, and began.

you lost count of how many times you came for him by the time he’d finished with you. he looked down at you on the bed, taking in the way you looked. your eyeliner and mascara rubbing down your face, your hair a mess, your tits pulled out of your tshirt, the bedsheets soaked beneath you, the fucked out expression on your face as you lazily smiled at him. he wanted to take a picture, to make sure he’d never forget the look on your face, but he decided he’d save that for next time.

now, every time he would come over to see you he would have to ask if you’ve bought any new toys, and if you had then he would practically beg to try it out on you.

and he now knew what to get you for your next birthday…

——————————

i was thinking about writing it out in more detail as a oneshot but i’ve got no motivation and this feels long enough anyway x

[starlightsearches]

Ok Eddie ask.

It’s ok if you don’t want to do it but yeah.

So I’m in my 20s but I’ve never been kissed. Like never even held hands with someone romantically. Can you do one with Eddie x reader who is embarrassed about her lack of experience and feels like it’s impossible for any guy to be attracted to her

Enough

AN: First of all, friend, I am so so so sorry that I've been holding on to this request since June. I was not ignoring you—I just wanted to make sure I did your request justice. We, and many others, are in the same boat, but you don't need Eddie to tell you that you're worthy of so much love 💖

Also, big thanks to Irma (@theold-ultraviolence) for helping me so much with this story!

Warnings: sexual content so 18+ only but no smut, lots of body-image/confidence issues from reader's POV, writing this did make me cry a little bit tbh, angst and then hurt/comfort and then a little fluff to make up for it, language, idiots to lovers, boners, swimming, Eddie is friends with Robin and Steve but no events from S4 are mentioned, and I think that's it.

You can tell Eddie's scowling behind the frames of the heart-shaped sunglasses he found on the floor of your car, his nose scrunched up with distaste at the scent of chlorine and the baked asphalt of the parking lot.

"It's too hot for this, babe."

You shift your bag from one arm to the other, trying to catch a breeze under your cover-up.

"That's the whole point of going to the pool, Eds."

You'd found Eddie in a puddle-like state, laying on the floor of the trailer with three different fans pointing at him, curls brushed up off his neck and spilling across the carpet. It hadn't taken much convincing to get him into your car, but a public pool would obviously be a harder sell.

He tugs at the waistband of his borrowed swim trunks—the ones Steve had thrown in his direction the second you walked through the door of his big-ass house. He'd said something about the Hawkins pool over the general racket before heaving a cooler into his arms and leaving with all his children in tow.

"We could still go to record store," Eddie pouts, pulling at your wrist, "or the movies. You know? Somewhere with air conditioning."

He bats his ridiculously long lashes, and you almost fold, fingers curling into fists with the effort it takes to resist his dumb, huge, baby-cow eyes.

"Come on," —you nudge him with your elbow — "it'll be fun."

Eddie doesn't look convinced.

The place is already packed, even though the day just started, filled with moms fanned out on lounge chairs and their screaming spawn. You pick through the crowd, all the way to the chairs Steve and Robin have saved for you in a shady corner at the back.

The kids are already in the pool—you can catch the sound of Mike yelling past a mouth full of water when Max dunks him under—and it looks like Robin and Steve are headed that way.

"Took you guys long enough," Robin scolds you, pushing her sunglasses into her hair while you set your bag down.

"Sorry, I had to go get my swimsuit."

Your hands tremble at the hem of your baggy t-shirt, but you play brave, lifting it up over your head and shaking your hair back into place.

Robin whistles jokingly as she smears some of your sunscreen over Steve's shoulders.

"Woah. Is that new?" Steve asks, looking at you with furrowed brows and trying to dodge Robin's slick fingers poking at his face.

"I've had it for forever, Steve."

You're lying through your teeth. Fucking three hours at some mall six towns over and about a hundred potential breakdowns in dressing rooms at five different stores—it had taken all your will power to find a swimsuit you actually, honest-to-god, liked. Now you're wondering if all that effort had been wasted.

You'd felt so good looking in the mirror back at your house. The colors looked nice on your skin, the cut was flattering—but Eddie's hardly glanced in your direction, already flopped down in one of the empty chairs with his nose tucked into the newest Stephen King.

Robin and Steve run off, taking quick little steps on the sizzling concrete before jumping into the pool—two splashes echoing in quick succession—as you sit on the chair beside Eddie, pulling one of the spare towels across your lap, feeling stupid and small.

It's your own fault. You'd put too much hope in a dumb piece of fabric.

Pining for your best friend is as painful as it is fruitless. You'd sworn him off before, swallowed your feelings like a chipped tooth. You'd park outside the trailer and promise you wouldn't go all gummy when he used all his fucking Munson charm on you. But you were shit at keeping those promises, and Eddie was too big of a flirt—and too clueless—to know you were dying inside.

Whatever. It wasn't just Eddie, anyways. There'd never been any guys who wanted to get to know you—not any more than they had to before asking if one of your other friends was single. And you could handle being alone, even if you hated being lonely. You'd had plenty of practice.

Eddie waves his hand in your face, blocking out the sun. The look he gives you says he'd been trying to get your attention for a while.

"You there, sweetheart? Our kid is calling."

You can hear Dustin shouting from the edge of the pool, waving his arms wildly. A couple sunbathers shoot you a glare, like you're the one who's screaming, and you return the dirty look.

Eddie sighs, dog-earing the page he just finished before offering you a hand.

"Shall we, m'lady?"

You take it, your palm cold and clammy despite the summer sun. He starts heading for the pool immediately, almost losing his balance when you drag him back in the shade.

"Eddie, you gotta sunscreen."

Maybe it's just the first sign of sun burn, but you swear Eddie's cheeks turn pinker. He grabs at the collar of his favorite Dio t-shirt. "I was just gonna wear this."

"In the pool? The chlorine will bleach it, Eds." He just stands there, chewing at his lip. And, thinking back, Eddie's always been pretty modest around you. When you'd spend nights at the trailer or when he was working on his van—even when he'd step back in the room after a shower—he'd always have a shirt on, the damp fabric sticking to his shoulder blades or stained with grease.

You're about to offer your own shirt when he drops your hand, pulling the at the collar and lifting the fabric over his head.

Fuck. Eddie bares his torso and you're lucky he can't see you past the shirt bunched up around his head, because you're staring, and it's obvious.

You hadn't thought much about Eddie shirtless—because any skin-to-skin contact in your daydreams was a good sign you needed to get the fuck back down to Earth—but you'd been missing out. He's not particularly toned or anything, but the patch of dark hair that grows just under his belly button has got your mouth-watering, and his skin looks warm and soft. He's just so fucking pretty. Shaking out his curls, Eddie tosses the t-shirt onto a chair, and you try to pretend it's his tattoos that you're so invested in, and not the other kinds of marks you'd like to leave on his skin.

"You got the sunscreen?" he asks, voice quiet.

Looking him in the eyes would be like lighting a match over a gasoline spill, and your throat is too tight to speak. You grab the little bottle from the top of your bag, squeezing a bit of the lotion into your hand.

Eddie scrapes his hair off his shoulders with one hand, fingers tangling in his own curls. It's stupid to be jealous over something like that. It's stupid, but your teeth still sink into your lip hard enough to sting.

"So should we start with my back, or . . ." Eddie tries a laugh but it doesn't quite land. There's something in his expression that you can't read.

"Uh, yeah."

If you thought the view from the front made it hard to be normal, the back is a hundred times worse.

"Oh my god."

The words slip out, and you can't bite them back. Eddie glances at you over his shoulder, fingers still caught in his hair.

"Are those- are these ones new?"

He knows what you're talking about; the tattoos take up the entire span of his back, stretching down past the sharp edge of his shoulder blade. You trace one thin line of the wing crossing just under Eddie's neck—skeletal and webbed like a bat.

He laughs hesitantly, and his skin jumps under your finger.

"Uh, kinda, yeah."

"Cool. That's really cool."

God—you're so hungry for him it's made you faint, and stupid, made you forget how to speak like a person.

You smear the lotion over his neck without any warning, and he shivers, shoulder blades pressing together, bat wings flexing as his skin grows taut.

"Sorry," you mumble. His skin's still warm, even after the lotion sinks in. You make another pass, this time over his shoulder and down his bicep. His arms are surprisingly toned; you feel the hard flex of muscle under your fingers.

You can't think about how it would feel to grip at those arms while he drove into you, fucking you hard and fast, tongue caught between his teeth and curls sticking to his cheeks.

You stab the sharp end of the sunscreen bottle into your thigh and grit your teeth against the pain. You've got to stop touching him before you do something you regret.

Eddie's uncharacteristically quiet as you move your hand down to his waist, massaging the lotion in as quickly as you can so there's no time to think about leaving scratch marks down his back.

Fuck, you need some kind of intervention. Maybe a divine one. It's actually a little pathetic to want someone this badly.

"All done?" Eddie asks, but he's already stepping away from you without waiting for an answer.

You chase after him, hopping over a couple stretched out over a towel just to keep up with him, the sunscreen still open in your hand.

"Eddie," you grab at him by the shoulder, but your hands are still slick and he slips away, almost to the edge of the pool before you catch him again, "we still gotta do your front—"

You don't mean to look down. You're just following the line of his gaze when you see it. And you may be inexperienced, but you're not stupid.

Eddie's dick is so hard it's about to split the seam of his trunks.

You're skin is burning when you look him in the eyes again, jaw flopping open and snapping shut without any words coming out. You've got the image of his dick imprint burned in your mind, but it feels like he's the one seeing you naked.

He's got the same look on his face he did the time he accidentally backed into your car trying to pull away from the trailer, too busy arguing with you about the tape you put on to look where he was going. Then he shoves you hard on the shoulder, and your feet give out underneath you.

You don't get a chance to take a breath before the water swallows you up.

The drive back home is quiet. Eddie doesn't even try to fiddle with your radio this time, even if you'd let him put on what he want without slapping away his hand.

The trailer appears in your windshield, and he still hasn't said a word to you. You throw the car in park, leaning your head back against the hot leather seat. Your shoulders sting from the sun and the chlorine has made your skin tight.

"So," Eddie asks, "should we talk about . . . it?"

It would be good to hear a name. If you knew who he wanted so badly you could nudge at all the gaps between who you are and who Eddie craves until they became craters and you could learn to finally get over him.

It would also hurt like a bitch.

"If you want to," you tell him. His hair's still a little wet and frizzy, and the sun's made his freckles stand out more.

"You mean, you're not . . . uh, mad?"

"Why would I be mad, Eds?"

He's got that guilty look on his face again, long fingers playing around with the mirror on the visor so he doesn't have to look at you, lips pressed together and silent.

"I mean," —you'll talk if he doesn't want to, rambling to get it over with— "we were at a pool, you know, and there was a lot of . . . skin. So what if you were watching somebody and-"

"Wait," Eddie's hand lands on the bare skin of your thigh, just above your knee, and you flinch at his touch, "what do you mean somebody?"

You want to push his hand away—put indifference on like an armor and shrug all of this off. But Eddie's always been your Achilles' heel, and you can't pretend around him. Your vision wavers when you meet his eyes.

"Do you really not know?"

Everything about him is soft, eyes turned down at the corners and his mouth a tender frown when the tears start to fall down your cheeks.

"Baby, baby, don't—" Eddie tries to wipe the tears from your cheeks but you do push his hand away this time, gripping the steering wheel just to steady yourself.

"I'm sorry," he tells you, and you can feel the hurt in his voice like knives between your ribs, "I won't bring it up ever again, I promise, just please—" Eddie's voice breaks, so quiet and small you hardly recognize it.

"Please don't stop being my friend."

Eddie's crying now too, little sobs that shake his shoulders. He looks so young when he wipes his nose on his arm, hurt plain on his face.

"It's not that, Eds," you tell him, taking his hand, and it doesn't hurt this time, "it's just- why me?"

"What?" He looks genuinely confused. You drop your eyes, watching the way he twines his fingers between yours, and your stomach drops.

"I'm not . . . pretty."

The words feel hollow, half of the story you're trying to tell. It's a part of it, but it's only a part, at the shallowest level. It's that you've never felt pretty enough, funny enough, nice enough.

You've never been enough for anyone.

"Seriously? Sweetheart, how can you even say that?"

You shrug, sniffling. Eddie cups your cheek with his free hand.

"Baby," he tells you, shifting close, "you're so fucking pretty to me.''

It's like he's removed a stake from your heart. You know Eddie well enough to know that he means it, and he means more.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Eddie laughs a little, seeing you smile. And that makes you laugh too.

"I think you're pretty too, Eds."

Eddie kisses you for the first time from the passenger's seat in your car. He tastes like sunscreen.

[reddie-fangirl24]

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Richie asked when he returned to their chairs sitting by the ocean. Little kids ran around, playing in the sand or splashing in the water. Eddie was trying to duck out of the merriment by hiding under their umbrella.

As if he was surprised to see Richie, Eddie looked almost embarrassed, holding his boyfriend's shirt by the neck or close to his chest as best he could. “Oh, hey, you put sunscreen on pretty fast.”

“Only takes a minute,” Richie said, sitting down next to him.

“Did you do a double coating?”

“Jeez, Eds, I put on sunscreen! What’s the big deal!”

“Are you seriously asking me that? Do I have to share all the stats about how many people get skin cancer or skin-related diseases because of sunburns?”

“Okay, babe, chill! I get it,” Richie put an arm around his shoulder, noting how anxious Eddie was still. “We’re at the beach. It’s time to relax.”

Eddie calmed down some, but not enough. He barely ever went to the beach, in his adult years that is. The night before it took Richie a total of three hours to convince Eddie to spend that Saturday at the beach. Eddie agreed when Richie agreed on two things. One; he wouldn’t push him in the water. And two, Richie would take him to the new train museum in town. Fair enough.

“I’m surprised I’ve never had one of my gigs down here. Do you think if I tried to book one people would come?”

“Anybody would come to see you perform, Rich,” Eddie said to him, glancing over his shoulder when a couple walked by. Earlier, a group of girls recognized Richie and fangirled over him. That didn’t make Eddie too happy. His hand clasped tightly around the collar of his shirt, almost choking himself.

“Hmm, should we start planning one?” Richie asked. 

Eddie was too distracted, fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. They put their chairs close to the water as far away from people crowding the beach. It was 90 degrees today. Richie never understood how people liked standing or sitting in hot sand. A little breeze came off the ocean.

That’s when an idea hit him. “Hey Eds, listen!”

“To your teeth hitting the sand if you call me that again?”

“Have I ever told you how much your hostility turns me on?” Richie leaned forward on the arm of his chair.

“Oh, fuck off!” Eddie half giggled.

Richie took his hand and stood up. Eddie slowly followed, a bit nervous, but hooked on Richie’s gorgeous eyes. Feeling the smooth skin of his hands made his heart beat like the drums. Taking him close to the edge of the water, Richie stopped close to the small rocks. 

“What are-”

“Sh, listen to this,” Richie instructed, subconsciously pulling his boyfriend a little closer. Not knowing if it was from the sun or the warmth of Richie's body, his heart fluttered. Nobody ever held him close like this. His mother was always so frantic, racing around and covering him with all the blankets she could find in the house, suffocating him. And Myra... let’s just say she wasn’t the definition of a cuddler.

Staying quiet, a small wave rippled in, hitting their ankles. Eddie flinched but he didn’t move away. As the water drifted away, it swept the rocks away with it. The pebbles rattled against one another, like music. That sound made Eddie feel... peaceful. It was rare for him to feel that way.

They listened to it again. This time the rocks made a different rhythm as they pelted against each other. Eddie listened closer to the water, the way its rapids evaporated, running back to its home. Funny, Edde hadn’t noticed that since the days they’d swim in the quarry. Had his anxiety really caused him to avoid swimming - something that he once enjoyed?

“What do you think?” Richie asked softly, something very out of character for him. His hand moved down to hug Eddie’s waist. His entire body relaxed. That was good. Before Pennywise... hurt him, Richie barely touched Eddie let alone stand right next to him - leaving space. Now, he couldn’t keep his hands off him.

“It’s beautiful, Richie,” Eddie answered, leaning his head against Richie’s shoulder. The rest of the people on the beach disappeared. Only he and Richie existed.

“Thought you might. I’ve been waiting to share this with someone.”

“How long have you been coming here?”

“Since I came to L.A. when I was 18.”

“Wow, you’ve been on your own for a long time,” Eddie said to him. When he thought about it, he’d never been on his own. His mother remained glued to him after he graduated high school. When he found out that she had cancer, Eddie was overcome with so much emotion that independency scared him. Now that he thought about it, he tried to spend more time with himself. Eddie spent a lot of time at the gym or running when he was with Myra. 

“Glad I have someone to share it with now,” Richie kissed his forehead. 

Eddie hugged Richie around his waist a little tighter, enjoying the sound of the ocean. “Hey, I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

Unbuttoning his shirt and stripping out of it revealing the long red scar indent, Eddie stood boldly on the beach. Nobody turned to look at him. “ Let’s go for a swim.”

[tomhollandnet]

The Crowded Room: Tom Holland reveals how he defied a studio - over a hairstyle

In Cherry you played someone with PTSD, in Devil All the Time your mind went to all these dark and difficult places and here, there are memories that are disappearing from your life. What is your fascination with playing these characters who have these mental health struggles and challenges?

I’ve never really thought of it in that way, that I am kind of chasing characters with these ailments as such. I love a great story. I love a great challenge. I love working with great people and The Crowded Room offered all of those things.

Why did this particular project grab you?

I was shooting Spider-Man 3. I was in-between hanging upside down, fighting Alfred Molina and having the time of my life and I found out Akiva [Goldsman, The Crowded Room’s showrunner] wanted to speak to me about this project. I met with him on the Christmas break on Zoom and we immediately hit it off. Our 45-minute meeting turned into a two-hour epic about what The Crowded Room could be. He was kind enough to give me the job and the adventure started from there really.

What is it about you and New York?. First there was the Spider-Man trilogy – and now this. When is a statue going to be built there in your honour?

I’m probably the wrong person to ask that question. I’m a huge fan of New York. I was delighted to call it home for almost a year. It is as much a character in the show as I am. New York in the ‘70s was a pretty crazy place. I think our department heads did a pretty wonderful job of bringing that to life. It was very cool stepping into that era. It was also equally scary – it was a very, very different time.

Speaking of the scary ‘70s, did you get much say in the wardrobe – and that hairstyle in particular?

I tell you what mate, I learnt a really valuable lesson from Jake Gyllenhaal once – “commit to hair and makeup and commit to wardrobe. Do whatever you can to make yourself look as aesthetically different as possible with each role that you have” – and with Danny Sullivan, I went for it.

The studio wouldn’t really allow me to cut my in the way that we did. Ultimately, I just took an executive decision to say, “I’m going to do it anyway because this is how I think the character should look”. I’m delighted that we did, because I think the hair is the icing on the cake for the character.

As for the wardrobe? I loved the wardrobe. I’ve kept it all – I still wear the flared jeans. I think they did a wonderful job of putting that all together.

Talk us through that hairstyle. What made you so convinced that it had to be that way?

I think I trust my own judgement. My make-up artist Rachel Speke did these wonderful mood boards for what she wanted to achieve and we would sit there and look at these different pictures of people in New York in the ‘70s and so many times this haircut popped up.

I think we were a little hesitant, because it is a huge departure from what I look like in real life, but I just felt it was so important with the character like this to disappear into his life as much as possible and be as authentic to the period. I do remember showing up to the camera test and there being some rather unhappy faces, but I think they came around in the end.

I feel more comfortable making executive decisions now because Rachel and I have worked on five or six feature films together. I feel like we’ve always done a really good job – and it’s always for the service of the show.

It is such a complex role. How did you stay on top of all the facets of it?

I think we did a great job of scheduling it so lots of our actors’ stuff was in order, but that wasn’t the case for me. I was bouncing backwards and forwards in time on so many different days. Shooting multiple episodes on the same day was really, really tough. It meant we really had to be vigilant and prepared for every day’s work.

Ben Perkins, my acting coach, arguably saved the show. He was so good at making sure Danny’s arc was a strong cohesive one, not only to us making the show, but also to the audience.

There are some very intense scenes in The Crowded Room. What kind of on and off-set support did you have?

Akiva is a professional, he was a great ally on set. He’s not only a great friend, but also a great leader. I have a wonderful support system of friends – my brother was with me and my best friends from my personal life also work together as a team. Yes, there were times when I needed a shoulder to cry on – and I had plenty of shoulders to choose from. I was very lucky.

Since you became a star in the Spider-Man movies, you’ve also consistently stretched your acting skills in other, smaller roles – is that something you’ve deliberately sought out to do?

It’s something that I’m definitely very aware of. I love playing Spider-Man and Peter Parker, who I feel like is my best friend. He changed my life. I also have had two incredibly gifted agents since I was 13 years old who have been so good at positioning me to work at the right times with the right people.

It has definitely been something that has been in our strategic conversations about not getting put into one box. I love challenging myself. For me, it all comes under the same umbrella. It is something we think about and something we actively try to achieve.

Roles like this must take up so much energy and emotion – how do you take a break?

I am currently taking a year off. Today has been my first day of work in ‘23. I’ve been home, I’ve been lying low, I’ve been working on my house and building cupboards and gardening and all that sort of stuff.

I did know while I was making The Crowded Room that I did have this wonderfully long break coming up, so I took on the challenge, was dealing with the hardships of the character knowing that I had a break at the end.

I thought that after two months I’d be itching to get back on set. I’m now six months in and I’m absolutely loving my time off – I’m really enjoying myself.

[chooseyourownavenger]

[START] [ABOUT AND WARNINGS] [FAQ]

IRONHAWK/ Do the big grand gesture

“Okay -” you say,  sitting back and running your hands over the top of your head.  “We can do it your way.  One big grand gesture.  But I don’t think doing a Dobler will work for Tony.  His window is super high up and he wouldn’t hear the boombox.”

Clint laughs.  “Maybe if it was a really big boombox?”  He sits and thinks for a moment.  “Leave it to me, I think I have something.”

It’s several weeks before Clint can set things into motion.  He wants there to be a crowd around when you both make the move.  He wants Tony to feel so awkward that his fight instinct will come out.

You need a party and while convincing Tony to have a party doesn’t normally take a lot, it’d be suspicious coming from Clint.  He manages to convince Natasha to convince Rhodey to convince Tony that it’s time for a big, blowout, Stark-style party.  Coming from Rhodey, Tony agrees to a party quickly.  It’s funny that he’s not suspicious given how often Rhodey tries to talk Tony out of throwing parties.

You show up in an iridescent party dress on the arm of Clint.  The two of you are making the most of your time together as a couple.  You still want Tony to be back together with you both, but you’re starting to realize, either way, you and Clint will be okay as a couple.

Everyone knows about you and Clint dating, so no one spares a second glance when the two of you get up to sing karaoke about two hours in.  Clint has picked the time because it’s far enough in for everyone to be drunk enough not to question why the Karaoke machine is out.

“Hey everyone!” Clint says into the microphone. “You have to listen to us.  We’re doing a duet.”

There’s a mixture of groaning and clapping and you started to scan through the songs. “Before we do though, I just have something I need to say.  We - well - for a while we’ve been messing around.  We had a thing with each other but also with someone else.  We said it would be casual but then we fell in love.  Unfortunately, the other party didn’t want to deal with those feelings.  So we’re here now to say; Tony Stark we are in love with you, and the only reason you're scared of things not working out in the future is because you’re in love with us too.  We think you’re worth the risk, take the jump, man.”

As Clint speaks the bass of the song comes in.  Thump, crash, thump, crash.  Tony looks mortified as everyone else looks around in a state of shock.  The only people who seem to know exactly what’s been going on are Hill, Rhodey, and Natasha.  Each wearing different smirks.

“Have you got color in your cheeks?” you sing.  “Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift the type that sticks around like summat in your teeth?”

“Are there some aces up your sleeve?  Have you no idea that you’re in deep?  I’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week,” Clint sings, taking over from you.  You’re surprised by how well he can sing.

“How many secrets can you keep?” you both sing together.

“'cause there’s this tune I found, that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat.  Until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee,” Clint continues.

“Do I wanna know…” you sing.

“If these feelin’ flows both ways?” Clint continues.

“Sad to see you go.”

“Was sorta hoping that you’d stay.”

“Baby, we both know.”

“That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.”

Tony is staring at you both dumbfounded and you can’t read his expression at all.  You can’t stop now.  You’re going to get through this song and if Tony still doesn’t want any part of the relationship, well that would be on him.

“Crawling back to you,” you both sing.  “Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few?  ‘Cause I always do. Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new, now I’ve thought it through.”

As you get through more verses of the Arctic Monkeys’ hit, Tony’s expression changes.  Rhodey comes and whispers something in his ear and Tony sighs and nods.  You and Clint won’t take your eyes off him.  This song is for him.  You want him back.

The last chords play out and while there’s confused clapping and everyone looks from Tony to the two of you and back again, Tony gets up and gestures to the stairs.

You and Clint follow after him, all eyes on you both, and end up on the catwalk just the three of you, looking down at the party below.  Even though no one can hear you, they can see you perfectly well.

“You guys just really went out there and blew up my shit, huh?” Tony says. He’s being sarcastic, but you can’t tell if it's sarcasm that says he doesn’t care, or that says he does.

“We love you, Tony,” you say.  “We want everyone to know.”

“And we know you love us, or you wouldn’t be ‘thinking about it.’  You’d have broken up with us,” Clint says.  “Take the leap.  If you don’t, you’ve ruined it, and that’s what you’re scared of doing… right?”

Tony sighs.  “God, you’re annoying.”

“You love it,” Clint says, putting his hand on Tony’s arm.  You reach out and take his hand but neither you nor Clint speak anymore as Tony seems lost in thought.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” Clint asks.

“Okay… you're right.  I do.  Both of you.  And I want it.  If you’ll have me,” Tony explains.

You both grin and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight three-way hug.  Tony buries his head in your neck and sighs happily.  Down below, everyone starts to applaud.  You hum and relax in their embrace.  You’re going to get to have it all.

~ END ~

[that-jack-kline-bestie]

I’ve had so many different lifetimes and i forget that. I come back to my mom in my head and it’s only two, three if you count before the divorce (i don’t) (i only have one memory from then and it’s of a cat). But there’s so many that i just forget about and that why my life feels so empty when i try to remember it cause I’m only remembering half. There’s my dad’s house with the cold floors and crayons and nick jr and an alphabet mat and putting bandaids on my stuffed animals. There’s when he started dating his fiancee and we moved into her tiny apartment and suddenly there were other kids and they were messy and rude to each other and so so nice to me, kind of. And we made slime and drank orange soda and i slept on the couch cause we didn’t have enough beds and my new sister got a remote control car for her birthday and i made matching rubber band bracelets for the three of us. There’s the new big house, still part of the same life but so so different, i had my own room and so did everyone else we had two (2!!) living rooms and a fucking Wii how cool is that? and i got loft bunk beds and my sister had a pullout bed in a drawer underneath her new bed and our sister had her own room to her teenage self and me and my sister would have sleepovers in each others rooms and she taught me roblox and showed me musical.ly and we biked and did chalk and her toxic friend being mean to me was what convinced her to cut that friend off and i played on the playground as she talked with her best friend about middle schooler things and it was so so wonderful even with the horrible vinegar cucumber salads. And then the fight and they broke up and i couldn’t see my dad and i still loved and trusted him wholeheartedly (i kept idolizing him til this year when i moved in w him full time. Now idk. He’s eh) and i facetimed with my sister maybe twice and then we stopped and i haven’t seen any of them again. And i don’t really remember between then and his new girlfriend. She was young, probably too young for him, me and her would laugh about how we were more like sisters than mother figure and child, she had many opinions and voiced them all the time and she got so many chickens and adopted a dog and cats, when my brother was born he was so cute and great, sometimes i wonder if she cheated bc my dads sorta infertile but me and him and my brother all have the same eyes so yeah, and she had a daughter too, a little older than my bio sister and we were sisters for a little while, i wonder if she misses me, maybe i should miss her more than i do, i might in a few more years, that’s kind of how i am with things. And they broke up and then we fixed the backyard and moved again and now my brothers an iPad baby and i think spending 7+ hours every day on the iPad is holding up his development a bit, but he’ll be alright he just needs to go to school and do actual things every day and learn to make friends and i really hope the other kids are nice to him. I know that im young and im a kid and im not really that much of a kid anymore but im still so young and im 17 and ive got a whole lifetime of lifetimes ahead of me but a lot of the time i forget how many lives ive already lived.

[iconicfitnessae]

Coach Hannes: An Iconic Legacy of Inspiration!

It’s quite a bittersweet reality, having to bid farewell to a colleague who has become so much more than just a co-worker, but also a friend, confidant, and source of inspiration. But as with any story, there are several chapters, all of which must end at some point so that the next can begin, and so we find ourselves at that transitioning moment.

Coach Hannes has left an indelible mark on our team, and his departure leaves a void that will be felt by all of us. Beyond his professional contributions, it’s his warmth, kindness, and unwavering dedication that truly set him apart from the rest (not to mention his extra special sense of humor!). His ability to uplift those around him, offer a helping hand, and lead by example has not only enriched our workplace but also touched the lives of everyone fortunate enough to cross his path!

Another thing that is well known about our dear Coach Hannes, is that he always has a lot to say! Therefore it seemed only right to give him one last chance to share with us some thoughts, insights, and parting advice. So here we go!

What inspired you to start coaching at the gym when it first started? I got into Sport, Rehabilitation & Human Movement Sciences to help people. Iconic Fitness believes in growing a client no matter what level of ability they are to be the best they can be, and my life philosophy fits very well with that – and that’s how things started!

How has the gym evolved since you began coaching?

In the very beginning, it was only Andy, Rey and myself, and we rented space in another gym in JLT where we were able to coach our own clients. From there, we grew so much that we needed our own space, which we found in the Marina. We provided not only PT and semi-private Transformation Programs, but also CrossFit, Zumba, Body Pump, and Rehab as well! After COVID, we decided to focus mainly on 2 programs: CrossFit and Semi-Private Transformation & Rehab. I’ve actually kept a log of this, but we have trained and helped change the lives of people from well over 150 different countries, so it’s safe to say I met a lot of great and awesome people, and laughed alot!

Can you share the most memorable moment(s) from your time coaching at the gym? There are so many, but here’s a few that I’ll always be proud of:

Convincing Marnus that I always forgot my wallet at home and letting him buy me a sausage roll at Almaya Super Market. This continued, every week for 5 years, and may very well be my biggest achievement in my entire professional career.

Playing my part in establishing solid movement patterns and guiding moms through the different stages of pregnancy to assist in delivery and recovery post-delivery is without a doubt one of the most important roles a coach can play.

Successfully guiding clients through various stages of rehab and seeing them complete multiple Iron Man races without pain is such a massive emotional pay check for any Rehab and Performance Coach.

Over the past decade, I’ve worked with so many young coaches, and I could play a mentoring role for them. Seeing them do so well now, years later, is something I’m very proud of.

Having my own daughter grow up at the gym and seeing how comfortable she is with movement, simply because she has seen so many other individuals train, has definitely provided a solid base for her own physical development so far as well as for what is still to come, which is something I’ll cherish forever.

What impact do you hope you’ve made on the clients you’ve worked with? Something I’ve tried to implement in each and every session is fun and enjoyment along with great and effective coaching; a client’s hour with Hannes needs to be the best hour of their day. It’s a great way to get people moving during times of stress, low energy, or when they are just demotivated. Movement heals no matter what! And running into people again that I’ve coached years ago who are looking great and injury-free because they kept at it even though they’ve left Iconic is such a wonderful and rewarding thing to see.

What are you most proud of from your time at the gym? The relationships I’ve built and people still mentioning how fond they were of the time training with me. Social media is great like that; even though clients come and go, I can still keep an eye on them and stay in contact to ensure they continue safe and effective training wherever they are in the world.

How have you seen yourself grow as a coach and person over the last decade? Iconic is the place where I grew the most. I’ve been here 25% of my life, and it’s where I became a dad, mentor and coach! Iconic has also taught and allowed me to just be myself and go with it.

What will you miss most about the gym and your coaching role at Iconic? That chain blocking the parking entrance 🙂

I have to say, where in the world can you meet people from 10 different countries every day, hear their stories, their training history and get to know them in a fun and purpose driven environment. The daily chats I have with people, be it about football, travel, world views or just their own version of business, Dubai and the world we live in keeps me engaged and buzzing. I’ve not had a mundane day here in the last 10 years, that’s both crazy and amazing to say! I’ve had the pleasure of working with some great coaches. Some have come and gone but I’ll never forget the times and ideas we have shared together.

Can you share anything about the new adventure you’re embarking on? Sure! I’m going to start working at a Polyclinic in Dubai Hills. I’ll be joining a team of Sports Medicine, Manual Therapists, and Physiotherapists to cater for Athletic Conditioning and Performance. Linking rehab with performance is what I do best. Sad to go, but very excited about another learning and growing opportunity to work in a clinic.

What advice would you give someone just starting out as a coach? I’d say, just don’t overdo it. It takes time to become a good coach, You’ll attract the people you are best able to train, and over time your skills will grow, and more doors will open up for you and you’ll attract the clients whose needs you can fill. Be professional; be consistent; and be nice! But also remember to be a coach; change lives; and value each and every session. Invest in people’s lives because people are beautiful. And one more thing – BE YOURSELF.

Seeing as you are known as Professor Dad Jokes, can you leave us with your best joke? All I’d like to say is that my favorite machine to use in the gym is and will always be the vending machine.

To our dearest Hannes, we are so sorry that you’re leaving. The gym surely won’t be the same without you wandering around and pretending to be busy anymore! Also, good luck trying to convince your new work colleagues that you’re actually normal, haha! In all seriousness though, we will miss you dearly. Never did the term ‘bittersweet’ seem more fitting! Having to say goodbye to someone who started off as a colleague, but quickly become a mentor, friend and brother to most of us here seems almost unbearable. The idea of no longer seeing you driving your imaginary cars around the gym, being updated with the latest football fixtures, or hearing what interesting things your kids had to say over the weekend are only but a few from a very long list of things we will miss!

However, there is great sweetness that comes with the incredible opportunity that awaits you. We cannot think of anyone more deserving or capable of the role which you are about to step into, and all the lives you will be able to change, enrich and bless with the whole Hannes package!

But I think there is something even sweeter to be mentioned, and that’s the legacy which you leave behind. From all the lessons learned, laughter shared, and numerous unforgettable moments and memories, You will forever and always be a part of the Iconic Fitness family. There’s a saying that goes, “Not all heroes wear capes”, and after meeting Hannes, I finally understand what this means – sometimes they wear incredibly bright and funky socks instead!

Good luck on your new adventure. Stay as weird, wacky and wonderful as you are, and we can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you. Oh, and one more thing, Hannes – may the force be with you!

[kcwritely]

On Realizing Dreams and Becoming a Writer

Hi! I’m a writer just dipping my toes into posting my original works. I’ve spent a lot of time on the fan side of tumblr, writing for my favorite shows, books, movies, and games. But I was always worried my own works wouldn’t live up to the same positive reception and praise as my fan works. So, I’ve been hesitant to share.

But now, I want to branch out and bring my personal writings to the public! Which I find absolutely terrifying, but we all have to start somewhere. I’ve already posted some of my old poetry, but that hasn’t exactly met the welcome I hoped for. So, I thought I would take a more personal approach and share a bit about myself.

I’ve been writing and creating stories ever since I was a toddler. Of course, it was all about pretend and play rather than actual literature at the time. My interest in writing began in earnest when I was around ten years old. My personal life had become unstable at that point, and it was during this time that I truly began to connect with and find solace in books.

I started seriously writing my own stories when I entered middle school. These were, of course, a bit silly. They are undoubtedly full of all the classic middle school tropes, hang-ups, and pitfalls. But this was the very beginning of a lifelong passion. So, I look back on those old works with fondness.

It wasn’t until I reached high school that I began to write and plot out novels. These, too, were ‘cringe’ and are still a bit embarrassing to look back on. But they were the foundation of who I am as a storyteller today. It was during this time that I discovered my love of world-building. I genuinely believe it is one of the best parts of being a writer.

Unfortunately, I also suffered from crippling self-doubt and a severe case of imposter syndrome. So, I never shared my work with others. I often felt that what I created was not refined enough to be read by anyone but myself or my supportive mother. This mindset followed me for many years, making it difficult to chart a clear path toward my future.

When it came time for college, I wasn’t entirely sure what to do. I have other passions and briefly considered following them. However, I ultimately chose to pursue my love of language and literature. I wound up becoming an English major. Although, I had no intention of becoming an author. At that point in time, my confidence as a writer was low. I just thought it would be better to put my talents to use as an editor. So, I pursued a minor in editing and decided that would be my career.

It wasn’t until the pandemic, after graduating college and a horrible stint in Corporate America, that I realized my life was my own. And I could pursue whatever dream I wanted. At first, this meant pursuing a career as a tattoo artist. A very different path, I realize. But I could not deny my love for the craft. Not to mention, this was another dream I had convinced myself was unattainable just because it was I who looked to attain it. Once I realized I could pursue any path I desired, as long as I put in the work and tried my best, everything changed.

I began practicing for hours daily to improve my art and become a tattoo artist. These efforts eventually led to my skills growing dramatically. I was so surprised to realize what I could accomplish if I wasn’t standing in my own way. It was the first time I truly thought of myself as someone with talent. I followed this dream for quite some time, building my portfolio and researching local shops that might need an apprentice.

It wasn’t until one fateful night when I was driving home from a bridal shower that the idea hit me. An old book concept from my high school days resurfaced in my mind, and I suddenly knew what the story needed. When I finally got home, I began writing these ideas down immediately. I didn’t even realize it was three in the morning by the time I finished. From that moment on, I became infatuated with my story. Rekindling a love I had long thought was lost.

With a renewed interest in my lifelong passion, I dedicated myself to my dreams. I decided that this time, nothing would keep me from achieving my goals, not outside influences and certainly not myself. Through this new resolve, I began working on my largest project ever, a seven-book epic fantasy adventure exploring a vast and diverse world of my creation.

Now, I want to share the process of such an undertaking with all of you! From conception to plotting, world-building to character creation, I’m sharing it all! I encourage anyone who is a writer or wants to be one to reach out to me. I am happy to share my experience and help other writers realize their dreams like I have begun to do for myself. If you have read this far, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for doing so. I wish you all the best in your writing journey, and I hope you, the reader, can learn something from my experiences.

Please feel free to reach out to me with any questions about writing!

[alittlebirdgirl]

My previous therapist had told me that I was a child being raised by an entire village, being raised by everyone around. My current therapist tells me that I was a child raised by no one, that my many mothers did not equate to a single, whole mother. 

List of mother’s I’ve had: my biological mother, my aunt Kico, my mother’s assistants Antonella and Joanna, and my nanny Meijing. 

Meijing is beautiful, despite how often she calls herself ugly. She has a sharply carved face and a huge mouth that widens into a booming laugh so big, it grows into her eyes. She is brimming with joy, always, like a glass of water filled a little too full, that rumbles and spills her happiness everywhere she goes. But when she’s sad, she’s very, very sad. Her tears flow uncontrolled and her losses are felt heavy in the air. Meijing knows this, so she hides when she is sad. The first time I saw her cry was when I was eleven. 

She had just gotten off the phone with her daughter, or maybe her husband, or maybe her sister. I’m not sure. But it was someone from her family, in her hometown. Meijing is from a small, countryside village somewhere in Fujian, where there is no electricity or running water. I think the person on the phone with her was her husband, because he was telling her to come home. Meijing later told me that this wasn’t the first time he had called, begging her to return. Meijing had left her small village to come to Xiamen, when I was two months old. Her daughter was eight years old. She had come to make money to send back home, to take care of her family. But now, it was over ten years that Meijing had lived in the city of Xiamen, mothering and loving a privileged, mixed girl, that she said she loved more than her own daughter. 

I always knew that one day I would leave China, and therein fact, leave Meijing. I spent my life fantasizing about what America would be like, while simultaneously fearing what would happen to Meijing after I’d gone. Meijing and I would dream together, about how I would convince my parents to get her a plane ticket to New York to visit me, or when I made enough money myself I could buy her a little apartment in Xiamen. Xiamen had become her home, and I, her daughter. 

My mother mother was a busy woman. As a child, I watched her rush from work to home to a dinner party, from the airport to the kitchen to my study. She moved through everything quickly, places and emotions alike. I remember admiring this quality of hers, the swiftness in which she lived. I called her supermom at times. 

My mother mother wanted me to be famous. Heck, I wanted to be famous. She built me a makeshift stage at home, in our living room, so I could carry out my singing and dancing performances in the most dramatic fashion. I was always singing and dancing, it’s all I wanted to do, all the time. I would spend hours singing at the karaoke television, fantasizing about how one day I would go to a performing arts school, and be discovered just like Tori Vega from Victorious. I would google “Disney auditions for tweens” or variations of that. I read somewhere that the lead actor in the Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie got the role because he sent a letter to the book’s author. So I emailed the author of my favorite fairy-related book series Rainbow Magic and said that should the series ever become a television show, to please consider me, Isabella Chan, to play one of the Fashion Fairies. 

Despite my own unending belief, I was not a talented child. I couldn’t sing, nor could I dance. I had terrible grades. I never could and still cannot read music despite playing the piano almost everyday for seven years. I had out-of-school lessons for everything. And I sucked at most of it for a long time. 

I still sing, all the time. And my brother, as brothers do, often told me to shut up in many different ways. Sometimes he would just plainly demand it, but usually that would result in me spitefully scream-singing the song, further annoying the shit out of him. He later became more calculated in the way he told me to shut up. He made fun of the breathiness in my voice and how hard I tried to sound good. To be fair, from his perspective, he was a twelve-year-old boy that had to hear his nine-year-old sister belt out the entire Avril Lavigne album The Best Damn Thing, for several hours on end. 

Things I was put in classes for from the age of two to twelve: ballet, piano, painting, French, and cello, on top of the extra tutoring for school-related classes like math and Chinese. 

Even when I was a child, when I would ask Meijing why all the other kids would have their parents at every holiday assembly, every band performance, every science fair, I was asking in genuine curiosity. No part of myself felt like a martyr, nor did I feel a single ounce of self-pity. I only knew that if you wanted people to come to your performances, it had to be important enough and you had to be talented enough. 

I started learning ballet at the age of two. I have the memory in my mind of me learning for years, yet my body has completely forgotten, with no idea how to move in those ways anymore. I wonder what I learnt in all those years, if I had even progressed at all. Or what a two-year-old could possibly even learn in ballet class. They’re already fleshy and flexible, balls that bend into a complete split.

[malleux]

idk if my request went through cuz my internet went weird just now-- but anyways, could I perhaps get a soft corpse x reader in which they're all playing among us and Rae or Sean invites (y/n), who none of them have every heard of, and she's just very shy but has an adorable childlike voice, and is an incredible imposter? Like she's just super convincing just like corpse, and can tug at the heartstrings with her voice? thank you!

spell. | corpse husband

part two ; part three

-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

-> Fandom: uhh youtubers? idk

-> Genre: Fluff, Crack

-> Warnings: Cursing

-> A/N: hi it’s a long overdue corpse fic :) it’s not the absolute best and for that i’m super sorry i’ve just got to get in the groove of writing for him!

corpse husband taglist is closed!

You were never one to enjoy the spotlight. Instead, you were often found in the background of things, just observing the extroverts who managed to get themselves in the middle of everything.

You had a nerve to admire them- their ability to just get out there and show their true selves, despite so many people watching their every move. Just the thought of it made you shudder. Yet you couldn’t help but also be rather envious of them.

Them, in question, being Sean McLoughlin.

You weren’t quite sure how you became associated with Jacksepticeye himself, choosing to focus on the present and future with your friend rather than dwelling on your past. He was just Sean, your internet friend. And also Jacksepticeye- a famous youtuber with millions of followers.

Sean was who you aspired to be in life. Outgoing, happy, out there, everything positive in life that Sean had, you wanted.

He’d confided in you often about how nervous he’d get before streams or videos, fearing that he’d say the wrong thing or upset his fans, but he still put on a brave face and went out into the chaos. That’s what you admired. His ability to conquer those anxieties.

You wished you could do that. You were simply too nervous.

Which is why when Sean facetimed you one night- morning, actually, seeing as it was 3am in California, where you were- asking you to join a game of Among Us for one of his videos, you adamantly refused.

“Why? Please, Y/N, we need one more person.” Sean begged, “It’ll be me, you, Felix, Ethan, Corpse, Julien, PJ, and Dave. Not everyone’s playing today, it’s a smaller crowd.”

“But it’s still a lot.” You groaned, “I don’t even know them. I just know you.”

“They’re nice! You literally watch their videos.” He argued back.

“That’s the point, Sean! They’re famous, I’d just be some random chick in the game that everyone asks where the fuck she came from.”

“No, you’ll be the girl that everyone adores. Now get on, we’re playing in ten.”

You sighed as the phone hung up and turned on your computer. A Discord invite was waiting for you- Sean must have invited you for you to talk to everyone as you played. You accepted with shaky fingers and put your headphones on, pulling up Among Us and typing in the game code.

“Hello everyone- wait, who’s pink?”

“She’s a good friend of mine,” Sean explained to Felix, “Say hi Y/N. We’re streaming live right now.”

“Hello,” You couldn’t help the meek tone in your voice, smiling shyly as if you were actually on camera. “Wait, you’re streaming? Sean, I thought you said it was a recording for a video.”

“I, well. It’s a video all right.”

The group laughed, but you stayed silent, fixating your attention on a lower voice that chimed in at the end.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Corpse.”

“The King of Imposters.” PJ joked, making Corpse laugh.

You giggled a bit, “Hi…”

Felix gasped. “Corpse, her voice is like, the total opposite from yours. Her’s is so cute.”

Corpse laughed as well. “Agreed. I like it.”

As the game loaded, your heart practically dropped.

Imposter.

As if your nerves weren’t bad enough as they were. But, on the bright side, you were with Sean as the other imposter. At least it was someone you knew.

You both split up, you heading towards Electrical. Corpse and Felix were close behind you, Felix following you into the room while Corpse left. You pretended to do your task for a minute before moving to your left a minute and killing Felix.

You rushed out of the room and then headed to Navigations, making sure to avoid anybody who could have seen you leave Electrical. A few moments later, a body was reported.

“Where was it?” Sean asked Julien, the reporter.

“Electrical.”

“I saw Y/N go in there with him at the beginning of the game.” Corpse joined in, “I saw them as I was going to the Reactor.”

“I was in Electrical with him,” You admitted, still acting a bit shy. What could you say, deep voices and new people made you nervous. “But after that I left and went to do my task in Navigation. Felix was still alive and there when I left.”

“Did you pass anyone sus on the way there?” Sean asked.

“No, if they came in after I did it must’ve either been from the other way or after I was already in Electrical.” You started picking at your nail polish- a habit of yours when things got a little overwhelming.

“So you’re saying that it could’ve been from the direction Corpse was in?” You could hear the smirk in Sean’s voice.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Why are you so quick to throw me under the bus? I’m just a crewmate.” Corpse questioned, “You’re pretty sus if you ask me.”

Sean scoffed, “I’m just inferring that the culprit came from your direction. Never in my words did I say it was you. Sounds like you’re getting a little too defensive for someone who’s ‘just a crew mate’.”

“Uh, guys,” You quietly spoke up. You didn’t expect anyone to hear you, but Corpse and Sean immediately quieted down at your voice. “I hate to interrupt, but we’ve got to vote. I don’t want us to argue…”

Sean laughed. “Oh little Y/N, you’re too sweet. I’m skipping this round.”

As you voted to skip as well, your stomach clenched when you heard Corpse quietly repeat “Little Y/N”.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

“It’s Y/N, I’m fucking telling you! Y/N!” Julien was practically screaming at this point. You tried to stay calm, focusing on keeping your voice steady.

The group had been calling you cute and adorable practically all night, so you were seriously about to put that to use.

“I was in Medbay with Corpse, isn’t that right, Corpse?” Your tone was sweet and slightly flirty- hopefully he’d get the hint.

Corpse hesitated for a millisecond- long enough for your breath to catch, but short enough for nobody else to notice. “Yeah, she was with me.”

“She was with you after she vented there!” Julien cried, “I can’t believe this- she killed Ethan and vented away right as I went into the room! You all are fucking nuts if you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t even know how to vent…” You murmured innocently, but in reality you were smirking. Julien was definitely telling the truth, and you were internally beating yourself up for letting yourself be so reckless after a kill, but nobody was seemingly buying his story.

There was only you, Corpse, Julien, Dave, and PJ left. Sean was voted off after fucking up his alibi, leaving you alone with the rest of the group.

Corpse sighed. “You all heard the girl. She doesn’t even know how to vent.”

“Wh- she just fucking vented!” Julien exclaimed, “Corpse, man, she’s got you under some fucking magic spell if you can’t see all the evidence. Guys, back me up here.”

“She’s sus.” Dave admitted, “And Corpse defending her makes it even more sus.”

“The spell she tried on him obviously got the best of him. I say we vote Y/N.” PJ agreed.

“There’s no spell, guys, oh my God.” Corpse laughed, “I just don’t think it’s her. I’m skipping.”

“I can’t believe you guys don’t believe me!” You whined, deciding to go further with your emotional tactics, “I’m literally about to cry. It’s not me!”

And yet, despite your protests, Dave, PJ, and Julien all voted you out. Crewmates had won the game and you were giggling nearly like a maniac as everyone gushed about how you did as an Imposter.

A bit later, you had to say goodbye to your new friends and face the reality that their fans would definitely find who you were by tomorrow. Or like, in a few hours, because it was already 4am. Corpse was in California as well, wasn’t he? He should be getting some sleep too, you thought. But maybe sleep schedules were different for Youtubers. You didn’t know.

You pondered the thought for a moment before the notification sound for Discord alerted you of a new message on your phone.

Corpse:

Just letting you know, your voice definitely had me under a spell. I’d like to hear it more often

[shipsandlattes]

So I know everyone has already dissected this scene to its core, but it’s taken me a good 48 hours to digest this and I just needed to get it out.

I’m an aspiring actor, I’ve been training for a long time, with a lot of amazing teachers. I’ve watched a lot of shows and shipped a lot of couples. Some of them beautiful and canon, others, well, let’s just say waiting 22 years and counting for acknowledgement, closure, anything, it’s a damn challenge. I’ve seen a hell of a lot of will-they-wont-they’s, baiting, purposeful ignorance, deliberate fake outs, zero explanations, storylines that basically caused canon disintegration, the works.

In saying that, Dean and Cas were right up there on the list with the other “impossibles” because honestly, I didn’t think the writers would have the guts to do it, but I am so f*cking proud they did. It’s safe to say I’ve watched the scene a good hundred+ times already. 

I’ve seen a lot of “controversy” around Dean’s reaction/Jensen’s acting choices and whether or not Dean reciprocates Cas’ feelings, and obviously, I needed to add my own views to the mix.

Just work with me for a minute here.

Dean Winchester is an emotionally repressed trainwreck, and ironically enough, the one that is so full of emotion it hurts to watch. When Cas first starts his speech, he’s confused, really confused because why on earth would Cas start off on a rant now? Billie’s waiting to kill them, he just said he knew something that was more powerful than she was, something that could save them. That’s where he thought this speech was going.

The confusion turns to realisation that it’s a goodbye when Cas starts telling him how incredible he is, how his entire essence is love. Go back and watch the scene again, when Cas says “you’re the most caring man on Earth”, you physically see Dean look down, his eyes searching, he’s actively trying to make sense of what’s happening, he knows what’s coming and you can see him coming to terms with the shock of the words being said to him. He then looks directly at Cas. That look, that was pure shock.

Also, notice how he doesn’t stop Cas from talking? He doesn’t interject, make a joke, doesn’t talk about how there is no time for this now, they’ve got to at least try and stop Billie. He. says. nothing. He listens, he listens like I’ve never seen Dean listen before. Because it’s sinking in now.

When Cas really starts crying, when he says “you changed me, Dean”, you can actually see the pain in Dean’s eyes. He’s no longer in control of his emotions, he’s crying too. He’s never seen Cas like this, so raw, and vulnerable and human. This is the hardest, most emotional conversation they’ve both ever had. They are talking about the one thing that everybody knows, but is never addressed. When it wasn’t talked about, they could deny it, live in the lie. Once it’s said aloud, it’s real and they can’t turn back.

This above series of interactions is the part that kills me the most. The moment Cas says “because it is”, that’s the exact moment of realisation. Look at that last GIF, really look. He’s just worked it out, that he is Cas’ true happiness. He knows what’s coming before Cas even says it. Go back and watch the scene again, they pulled that off so well, the way the music swells at this exact moment. Jensen is giving us everything here, you can see what’s happening in his head - he is Cas’ happiness. He is the one thing on Earth Cas wants and thinks he can’t have. He is the reason Cas is about to die. He knows what Cas is about to say and he’s not sure he’s ready to hear it, not now, not like this. It’s almost a silent plea not to say it, because he knows. Of course he knows. It’s like he can’t quite believe Cas is really, after all this time, finally going to say it.

And because obviously Jensen decided that that wasn’t enough to break us, the loaded reaction when Cas says “I love you” has me nothing but convinced that it’s reciprocated. Because Dean knows. He’s always known. Those tears, that head tilt, that gulp. He’s so genuinely confused that they’re really having this conversation. It’s like he can’t quite believe that this is the reality before him because he’s been living in that denial, in that self-loathing and unlovable layer he believes to be true. He’s been under the ‘what if... but it could never be’ umbrella for so long. 

What also makes this real is that there isn’t anyone else around this time. When “I love you’s” have been said before, they have always been able to deflect it, with other people or other words. Now it’s just the two of them. No deflecting, no running away. Dean is forced to hear it, to absorb it, to realise it’s for nobody else but him.

Now, I don’t know if you guys felt this, but when Dean says “Don’t do this, Cas”, he wasn’t just referring to Cas sacrificing himself to the Empty, he’s telling Cas that he can’t just say this, not now, knowing he’s going to die, knowing that Dean won’t get a chance to think, to process, to say what he needs too. I keep staring at that GIF above, Dean is breaking down, I’m almost convinced that Jensen was using an “I love you too, please just stop this” inner monologue for this bit. Look at the way he’s looking at Cas before he realises the Empty has started materialising and turns around. That’s a look of pure heartbreak. Trust me when I tell you, it’s really hard to keep those inner thoughts inside if you’re so in the moment - actually, don’t just take my word for it, read any acting book, ask any actor, it’s so hard to keep that in and sometimes you don’t, and sometimes you do - it’s in both the resistance and the letting go that the gold happens. This my friends, is gold. 

Did anyone else hear “Cas, I-”, well, regardless of whether or not it was an “I” or a very sharp breath, the outcome is the same. Dean’s gone into immediate panic mode. The Empty at one end and Billie at the other, and all poor Dean wants to do is gather his thoughts on not what to say but how to say it. I don’t think he comprehended just how little time he had, he was so focused on what was being said that the reality of the situation caught him completely off guard.

Also, I know this post was about dissecting Dean’s reaction, but can we sidebar a minute to talk about Cas as he pushes Dean out of the way? He’s sobbing, he’s fully crying. That hit me really hard, I’ve never seen Cas cry like that, I’ve never seen Misha get to play that level of emotion before and it was the most heartbreaking thing to watch since The Doctor and Rose and Buffy and Spike, to which by the way, I find many parallels between those couples and this scene.

Speaking of crying, that brings me to this: Dean slumped on the floor, ignoring a call from Sam, sobbing his heart out knowing he’s lost everything. Dean-I’m-emotionally-unavailable-Winchester is sobbing. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t recall ever seeing Dean cry like this before either, the sobbing was so evident and piercing in that silence. The look around the room, the burying of his head in his hands, that is a classic writers romantic love trope if I’ve ever seen it, they really pulled out all the stops with this one.

So, to summarise, I think Jensen’s choices and Dean’s reactions were absolutely and utterly perfect. They both did it so well that it didn’t break from character that these two emotionally distant and repressed men are in love and finally voicing it. Jensen barely said two words and still managed to cause mass coronary’s across the fandom. That my friends is what you call a brilliant actor. I bow down to the talents of these two amazing human beings.

Before I leave this novel, I have to say there are now a few things I’m going to need from the powers that be to not screw this up, help me manifest this:

1. Dean gets to reciprocate his feelings to Cas in person. So, I’m gonna need Cas back and a very emotional Dean.

2. Dean to be actively dealing with heartbreak in the next episode (unless they decided to bring Cas back that soon, which I wouldn’t put past them at this point).

3. Sam to confront Dean about his feelings for Cas, because out of everyone, he’d be the one to hit Dean with the truth of his fears. Sam knows. Sam is supportive. Sam sees it all.

4. I’m gonna need some physical affection, cause after 12 years of nonsense, we damn well deserve it. A hug, and not just any old reunion hug, a proper, this is different now hug. A kiss because hello, in love out loud now. Forehead touching, handholding, really gonna need the works here.

5. A happy ending for the two of them, one way or another. We’ve never had one, it’s time.

Okay, have at it now, let’s speak these into existence please.

Note: GIFs are not mine, I did not make them, credit to owners who I’m not sure of, but they’re beautiful, thanks for making them. EDIT: I’ve just been informed that these gorgeous gifs belong to @michaeldean​ and @inacatastrophicmind​! 

[hyunjilicious]

backyard bbq party [bucky barnes]

Summary: You're a college student who hates visiting home. Bucky is new to town and works with your dad. Your mom thinks you need a break from studying and your dad thinks Bucky needs help meeting new people. Smut ensures. 4.5k SMUT

Warnings: Age gap, flirting in inappropriate circumstances, dirty talk, oral - m. receiving, Bucky is cocky and sees right through you, D/s vibes (but not really), very little Daddy kink (one mention), unedited.

A/n: I don't think I have to mention this, but 18+ please!!! Please reblog and lmk if you liked it ❤

-

"Hun-" your mother warmly called as she approached you, a transparent plastic container filled with freshly seasoned raw pieces of meat, in her hands, "Take this to your father, ok?"

With unmistakable disgust on your face, you still faked a smile - all for her sake and took the container from her. It was heavy and you did your best to look anywhere but at it as you crossed the backyard, approaching your dad. He was with his back at you, facing the grill, and a man - which you barely noticed at first, stood by his side.

"Dad?" you sighed, "Mom said you should make these right now"

Their conversation stopped in an instant, and the two men turned to face you.

A smile instantly made its way onto your dad's face, "Didn't think you girls would be done so fast" he commented.

You just shrugged, knowing damn well you did not help prepare the food in any way. However, your eyes landed on the man behind your dad. He was tall, definitely well built, his shirt a size too small and his eyes shamelessly boring into yours.

You fell under his spell in under a second. Or maybe he fell under yours. Something definitely happened. A switch flipped inside your brain, and you knew you'd have to work hard to not allow yourself to do, or at least try to do, anything stupid at your parents party. 

His eyes trailed lower down your body, and judging by the way he fought back a grin, it was clear what he had in mind.

In order to keep things from getting awkward, his lips parted into a dazzling smile, as he extended his hand to you, "You must be, Y/n. I'm James Barnes. You can call me Bucky. Or Buck"

"Oh, yeah!" you dad smiled, "You two haven't met! James is the best damn mechanical engineer I've ever seen"

"You work together?" you squinted your eyes, "I never heard of you before"

"He just moved to the state" you father added, and Bucky nodded in agreement, his hand still slowly shaking yours. 

Feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, you smiled and excused yourself, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes. I'll go now, see if mom needs any more help"

Bucky's eyes didn't leave your frame as you walked away, however you barely managed to take a couple of steps before you heard your mother's voice. "Y/n, baby? Can you go grab the glasses?"

"How many?"

"12" she responded in an instant, and then you took off towards the house.

It was dead silent inside. The house was empty, and already a mess. You took off your sandals and walked over to the cabinets above the sink, pulled out a tray and started looking for the fancy glasses your mother saved for special occasions.

You must've grabbed about 3 or 4 when a deep voice startled you, "Need any help?"

You lightly jumped in surprise, but hoped he didn't notice. "No, it's ok, thank you, though"

"Ok" Bucky mumbled, and you heard the smugness in his tone. 

Unable to fight your instincts, you turned around and looked at him over your shoulder. Leaning against the wall with a small bottle of beer in his hand, he sent you a mischievous wink which almost brought a lump to your throat.

You hurried to turn around and keep gathering the glasses your mother asked for, struggling more and more with each one. When you cleared the first shelf, it was obvious you'd need help reaching the ones higher up, but you weren't about to ask Bucky. Instead, you hiked your dress up your thighs and pushed one of your knees on top of the counter, lifting yourself up just enough to reach the remaining glasses. 

"Careful up there," Bucky laughed, walking over to you.

On a normal day, your palms wouldn’t be shaking and you wouldn't even think about the possibility of dropping a glass or falling off the counter. But he was too close, taking way too much satisfaction from seeing you struggling to maintain your balance. Not to mention the skirt, and the way almost all the skin of your thighs was on display for him.

"You could've asked me to help, you know?" he taunted, taking one more step towards you. There were barely a few inches separating your bodies now, and although you were sure it was your mind playing tricks on you, the heat from his body flooded your senses. He was too close. Too smug, looking at you. But the last straw was when he placed his left hand on the counter, inches away from your knee. That was when you noticed the prosthetic arm as the metallic sound of its vibranium plates overlapping grabbed your full attention. After a momentary lapse of composure, you looked into his eyes but all he did was raise his eyebrows. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Uh, it's ok" you shook your head, turning back to look at the cabinet. "Just five more"

For the remaining glasses, you grabbed them from the shelf, handing them to Bucky to place them on the tray.

When you were finally done, with a gentle grab of your hips, Bucky helped you off the counter, his hands lingering against the thin material of your dress for a bit too long. But you didn't mind. His touch burned and under his gaze, you found yourself turning around to face him, the proximity being nothing other than obscene especially if you were to take into consideration the age gap, and how you met him.

But that was 20 minutes ago. A moment not so conveniently interrupted by your mother barging in, wondering what was taking you so long. Bucky helped you carry the glasses to the table outside, and after that, you parted ways. 

Even though he went back to the rest of the men gathered around the grill, your mind remained fixed on him. You found it almost impossible not to look for him every other minute, and the fact that he managed to catch you staring everytime, made the butterflies in your stomach go even crazier.

And then it took a little bit of devious and manipulative work on your part - to convince your aunt she got the wrong seat. You told her there was a seating plan, and that she was supposed to sit next to your mum. That opened up a seat left of Bucky, and since that seating plan was as unreal as your chances with him, or so you thought, you had to make sure the seat wouldn't be taken by someone else. And you didn't want to make it obvious - didn't want him to know you only chose that spot after figuring out it was right next to his. So you sprinted back into the house, grabbed your purse and placed it on the chair, pushing it as close as you could to the table, so no one could see it. Maybe it's been there for hours, even before any of the guests even showed up. Who'd know?

But of course, once the food had been served and you were all seated, you had to play your cards right. All your confidence seemed to have vanished ever since Bucky took his seat next to you. Casually sipping his beer, having a taste out every single type of food laid out in front of him, cracking jokes every now and then, and the glimpses… And the winks... And the way whenever he had to turn in your direction, his eyes would first land on you, and only then travel to the person he was having a conversation with.

But that was just the start. Soon enough, his attention was more and more directed towards you. His arm on the back of your chair. His jokes solely for you. 

When you figured it was your time to make the next move, after giggling at one of the stupid puns he just made, you cleared your throat and scanned the table. "James, where did you get the olives? Can you hand me the bowl please? I can't see it"

"Oh, yeah" he said, pushing himself up to grab them for you. But conveniently, the bowl was empty. "There aren't any left, doll." he announced after settling back in his seat.

"That's ok" you smiled, ready to stand up, "I'll go see if there are any inside"

The "No" he whispered was way too low for you to hear, but his metal hand grabbing your thigh and pinning you down in your chair got the message across. You turned to look at him confused, but your plan was already going in a completely different and indisputably better direction.

"Here-" Bucky said, using his fork to pick up one of the olives on his plate. "I'm full anyway"

"Thanks" you nervously laughed, raising your hand to grab the utensil, but he stopped you. 

"Open up"

Only for a second did you stop to consider just how bad of an idea that was, but you hurriedly pushed the thought aside and opened your mouth. Your eyes met his as you lowered yourself and grabbed the olive with your teeth, barely managing to hide your enthusiasm as you slipped it off his fork.

"Good?" Bucky asked.

You nodded, "Very. Thank you"

"No problem, doll"

After that, you returned to your plate - some cheese and salad left. None of them looked too appetising right now, you knew what you wanted - two things, but only one of them would be acceptable. So, you lazily gathered some salad leaves into your fork, and turned to Bucky. "Can I have one more?"

"Hm?" he muttered, removing the beer bottle from his lips and looking at you confused.

"One more olive? Can I?"

Instantly, he smiled. "What was that?"

"Can I have one more-" and when his amused smile turned into a devious grin, you realised what he actually wanted from you. "Please?"

He still wasn't satisfied so he just raised his eyebrows, telling you to try again. 

"James? Can I please have one more olive?" 

"Of course" he taunted. 

You didn't know what you expected, of course you'd have to eat this one out of his fork too. However, this time, he didn't bother helping you at all, instead making you lean all the way into him to grab it. 

"Thanks"

"And call me Bucky, ok?"

"Yeah, ok. Bucky"

As much as you wanted to keep this game going, the atmosphere around the table shifted. Even though your parents were seated at the other end of the table and on the same side, making it impossible for them to see what you were up to, you still felt like you crossed one too many lines. 

When your demeanour changed, so did Bucky's. He leaned back in his seat, shifting uncomfortably for a couple of minutes, until he decided to stand up, announcing he was grabbing another drink for himself. You wanted to ask him to bring one for you too, but before you even managed to get a word out, he was already sprinting towards the house.

In his absence, you tried to calm yourself down and regain your composure, but there was only one thing on your mind. Him. So, against your better judgement, you left your seat at the table too, innocently heading towards the house. 

There you found Bucky, leaning almost all the way in into the fridge, scavenging for another beer. The man emptied your dad's stash before the second course was even served. 

"Whatcha looking for?" you beamed, walking up beside him.

"There's no more beer left" he announced, straightening his back and turning to face you. "I guess I'll have some water"

"I can go and see if there's any in the basement" you offered, "Or you could always go for something stronger"

"What do you suggest?"

"What are you into?"

"What am I into?" Bucky laughed.

"Whiskey?" you questioned, walking around him to open the liquor cabinet. "I hate this rum so I don't recommend it." You grabbed another bottle, "This vodka is amazing, no headaches the morning after."

"That won't be a problem" Bucky chuckled, leaning against the counter. "I'll have whatever you wanna give me"

"You seem like a whiskey kinda guy, is that ok?" 

He nodded in approval, and then watched you pad around the kitchen, grabbing a glass and some ice. "What makes me look like a whiskey kind of guy?"

You took a deep breath, weighing your next words. "Rugged, tall.. handsome. Not my age." You shrugged. "Whiskey". Before allowing him to comment on that, you spoke up again. "What kind of drink do I remind you of?"

He pondered for a second, his eyes studying your every move. "One of those overly sweet girly cocktails, that has way more alcohol than my whiskey, but it's masked by all the syrups and preservatives inside it"

"Really?" you laughed out loud, handing him his glass.

Bucky smiled as he took it from you, raising it as if making a toast, and then took a sip. He licked his lips and sent you an approving nod.

Slowly, you both turned around and started walking out of the kitchen, but unlike you - Bucky stopped in the middle of the house, his voice urging you to do the same. "I'll go out front for a cigarette"

"Can I come, too?" you asked, heart beating out of your chest.

"Please" He urged you, stepping aside and allowing you to walk in front of him. 

With a hand on your waist, he followed you out the front door. It was quiet, the sun shining a bit too bright for your liking. 

You skipped down the stairs onto the pavement, but he stopped and sat down. Bucky spread his legs wide and motioned for you to come in front of him. After you did, with a gentle tug on your hand, he got you to kneel, one step below him. 

"Want a cigarette, doll?" he asked, leaning back to retrieve the pack and lighter from his jeans pocket. 

"No, thanks"

"Don't smoke?"

"Not if there isn't at least a mile between me and my parents" you giggled, placing your hands on his knees. 

"Why?" he raised an eyebrow, lighting up his cigarette and taking a puff. You watched the smoke dissipate to the side, only to have your attention grabbed by him when he placed his free hand on your shoulder. "You're an adult. Have been for years. You live on your own. Why not?"

As he spoke, his fingers curled around the strap of your dress, nonchalantly pulling it down. 

You swallowed thickly, but due to the way he was making you feel, you decided to ignore his action. "What they don't know, can't hurt them, right?"

"Mhm" Bucky agreed, taking another puff and then moving to play with the other strap. "So I was right?"

"About what?"

He shook his head, "Nevermind"

"Tell me!" you whined, pushing yourself up against him. His thighs completely framed your body as you closed the distance between the two of you. "Tell me!"

"Nope" he grinned, his proud smile inches away from your hungry lips.

"Bucky, come on" you pleaded, framing his face into your palms, "Tell me, please"

"No, doll-" he dismissed you, turning his head to the side to smoke. After blowing up the smoke, he threw the cigarette into the ashtray, his hands coming up around your body to rest on your ass.

"Pretty please?" you whined.

"Don't push me" he threatened, his grip on your ass tightening to the point where you almost whimpered out loud. Instead, your eyes just opened wide and you bit your lips.

"Ok" you sighed, playfully defeated, "Ok, fine. Don't tell me. But now I'm sad"

"Of course you are, doll" Bucky laughed, grabbing your chin. "I can tell how sad you are. You're not almost bursting into laughter at all"

"Shut up!" you scoffed, slapping his side, but he interrupted your antics with another rough squeeze of your ass.

Unable to keep calm anymore, you dragged your hands up his thighs, stopping inches away from his member. When you looked up to see his reaction, Bucky was already watching you. 

"Can I?" you pouted.

"Stand up"

"Why-"

"Stand up" he commanded again, slapping your ass before you stood up and settled in front of him. "Take your panties off, doll"

"Here!?" you gasped, "What if anyone-"

"No one's gonna see you if you keep quiet and shuffle out of them like a good girl"

With your heart panging in the back of your throat, you slowly reached under your dress and pulled your underwear down. The feeling of cotton slipping down your legs made your shiver, and by the time your panties fell to the ground, Bucky had already stood up.

Wordlessly, you grabbed them from the floor and handed them to him, "Good girl" he nodded and then stepped out of the way, motioning for you to head inside. 

You did so without any further form of complaint, determined to have your way with him by the end of the party. Dessert hadn't been served yet, so you knew there was still time to get to him.

But once you stepped into the house, you barely managed to make it past the hallway before Bucky grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the side. He forcefully pushed you into the small bathroom by the guest room, slamming the door behind him and locking it in one smooth movement.

Now it all made sense. Nerves and anxiety washed over you, but the good kind. You were bursting with emotion, shivering from every joint as your juices finally started running down your legs. You licked your lips and waited for instructions from him, ready to do absolutely anything he'd tell you to.

"Why don't you show me what you're made out of, hm? I wanna see how fast you can make me cum with that pretty little mouth of yours"

And that was all you needed to hear before you dropped to your knees in front of him, drooling like a good little girl as you watched him undo his pants. Your eagerness got the best of you. He looked divine, especially from that angle. His thick thigh inches away from your face, his metal hand playing with his belt, his hungry eyes staring down at you, his rugged breathing and the perverse view of his cock straining against his clothes. 

Thank god he was fast, because you didn't know how to control yourself anymore. 

When he finally pushed his underwear down and leaned against the wall, you were ready to show him what you were capable of. You wrapped your arms around him, settling your palms on the back of his thighs and sloppily took his cock into your mouth.

"Holy shit-" he cried out loud when you first sucked on his tip, bucking his hips and clenching his thighs.

Eagerly working him from between hollowed cheeks and with your tongue pressed to the underside of his hardening member, you proceeded to look up, innocently blinking at him. The corner of Bucky's mouth tilted upwards, perfectly expressing the immense amount of satisfaction he was getting. 

When the strain on your neck became noticeable, you slipped his cock out of your mouth and wrapped your hand around his base. With delicate and experienced flicks of your tongue against his slit, you worked on shattering his self control, getting more and more wet as his breathing started to accelerate.

"Fuck, Y/n, you little slut-" he gasped, bringing his hand to rest on the top of your head.

You knew what he wanted, but it wasn't his turn to make decisions. Instead, you ignored his gesture and lowered yourself further between his legs, wrapping your lips around his balls. You sucked slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure that you hoped would drive him up the walls.

"Doll, so good. So, so fucking good" he panted, his cock nearly twitching in your hand as you kept pumping along the length.

Pulling back when your neck needed a break, you settled in front of him again, this time mouth open, and placed his tip on your tongue. No physical pleasure from that, but no amount of shadow could hide the pure bliss in his features. Just having you there, on your knees, with his cock on your tongue, was exactly what he needed to see.

"Come on, baby. It's not gonna suck itself" Bucky grunted, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You nodded eagerly, but he stopped you before taking him back into your mouth. "All the way down, ok? Take my cock all the way down your throat, and when you feel like you can't anymore, go a little further"

You nodded again.

"And don't worry, I'm here to help you, doll"

You wanted to mumble a 'Thank you' but didn't get to, since he hurriedly curled his fingers around your roots and forced your head down his cock. 

The feeling of your throat expanding around him reached your core in no time, making you shiver under his hold. You crumbled to the floor, your knees weak from the sheer feeling of it all, blinking wearily as he kept you down. 

A mere few seconds had passed before, out of nowhere, Bucky pushed you off of him and looked to the door, eyes wide with shock.

"What happened?" you mumbled, wiping your chin.

"Thought I heard something"

"You locked the door" you reminded him, "No one's gonna catch us. And that's a bit of a shame, if you ask me"

"Huh?" Bucky frowned.

"I wouldn't mind people seeing me with your balls in my mouth"

His mouth fell open. "You dirty, little whore"

Wrapping your hand around his cock, you licked his tip and looked up, "Don't act like you don't like that about me"

"I absolutely fucking love it" Bucky scoffed, "Don't know what could have possible made you think I don't like it"

"I was just saying"

"Just.. stop talking. Put that mouth to better use for me, ok?"

"Yes, Daddy" you teased and wrapped your lips around his tip again.

"You little-" Bucky started cursing as he shook his head in disbelief, before a rapid knock against the wooden door made your heart stop.

"Buck?" your father's voice echoed around the bathroom, "You in there?"

Without even thinking twice, Bucky forced you back all the way down on his cock, completely blocking your air supply.

"Yeah! I'm in here!" he yelled as you struggled to keep quiet and muffle the way your body desperately begged for air.

"Have you seen Y/n?" 

"Nope" 

The panic that was running through your veins had your oxygen burning faster than normal, the tears in your eyes being the first sign of it. 

"I can't find her anywhere" you dad went on.

No matter how much you tried and how much training you had, in that moment right there, you found it impossible to fight your gag reflex. Before you knew it, a choked down whimper erupted from your throat, forcing Bucky to cough, loudly, hoping to cover you.

"I haven't seen her, man. But, urgh-" The way your throat convulsed around his cock made Bucky weak too, way too close to his release to be able to sound inconspicuous. "Can I- can I have some pr- privacy now? Please? Just - just a sec"

"Are you feeling ok? Do you need-"

"I'm fine!" Bucky yelled. "I'll be out in a sec"

It was not like you were able to hear anything or even concentrate, but as soon as it was clear, Bucky let you off his cock, as he fell back against the wall and you stumbled into the sink.

Gasping for air, you heaved under his stare, eyes wide in shock. "You know I could've kept perfectly quiet without your cock blocking my throat"

"Where's the fun in that?" he panted, getting ready to finish on his own.

"No!" you stopped him, crawling back to him, "Let me!!"

"Just open your mouth" he grunted, and you obeyed.

It took him approximately 30 seconds to reach his orgasm, his hot cum landing perfectly on your awaiting tongue. His moaning and his breathing, and the way his face contorted through endless expressions of pure bliss, had you neatly coming yourself.

When he was done and after you proudly swallowed all that he had to offer, you stood up to fix your lipstick while Bucky cleaned and dressed himself back up.

"Your best friend called. She's having an emergency, you need to get there as soon as possible"

"What-?" you gasped, confused for just a second before you realised there was no way that could have been true.

"Yeah, and I'm not feeling well, so I'll head home. I can drop you off if you want"

And that was what you told your parents. That they couldn't find you earlier because you were talking on the phone with your best friend, reassuring her that everything would be fine and that you'd meet her as soon as possible.

Your parents weren't happy about it, but they didn't shy away from thanking Bucky a million times for offering to drive you. After a sappy round of goodbyes and promises to visit more often from now on, your parents finally returned to the party while Bucky led you to his car.

Once you got in, you didn't even manage to put your seat belt on before Bucky grabbed your chin and forced his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. He dominated the kiss as you melted in his hold, moaning against his lips before he pulled away.

"Been waiting to do that since I first laid eyes on you"

"What stopped you?"

"Had a feeling it wasn't a good idea" he laughed, starting the engine, "Saw what you did to my dick. It was all pink. Don't know how I would've explained lipstick all over my face to your parents"

"Well, excuse me for not wearing blow job proof lipstick to my parents barbecue"

"You're forgiven" Bucky teased, squeezing your thigh as he pulled out of the driveway.

"But why are we leaving though?" you questioned, "You know I have my own room upstairs, right?"

"I know, I know.. but next time we're nearly getting caught, I don't want it to be by anyone who's seen you in diapers"

You burst into laughter, "Oh god, you're right, yeah, that makes a lot of sense! But where are we going?"

"You'll see"

-

Please reblog if you enjoyed this and hmu with concepts!!!

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 

--

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 

“And someone is responsible.” 

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 

“Saints.” 

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

--

People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:

@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag  

@we-love-our-bandz 

[incendiobrock]

Pranked You ;) {Colby Brock}

Request: Hello sweetie! I was wondering if you could do a story where the reader and Colby aren't dating YET but there is yah know, chemistry and tension. But one day sam decided to pull a prank on Colby and it involved EVERYONE. So basically he makes it seem like he woke up in a different world or something where stuff is different. For example: him and reader are dating (you can choose whatever other stuff happens, lol) but once Colby figures out the prank, he pulls reader aside. They have a small argument before reader blows off on him, in which he says "I've never wanted to kiss you as badly as I do know" and that's how they admit their feelings! Thank you! And can't wait to see what you write love

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for your request, sorry for the wait, I have been very busy with school and work. I hope the wait is worth it though! Get ready for a long imagine, I’m pretty sure this is about 3,000 words. I hope you love it! I just realized that I tried to keep this imagine gender neutral but I forgot that I accidentally put some she/her pronouns in it, I’m so sorry!

Warnings: Angsty, Cussing, Mentions of alcohol, implied smut

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

It was just like any other day for you. You woke up around noon because you were exhausted from the day before. Between working, going to college, and trying to keep somewhat of a social life, everyone could see just how worn out you would get day to day. So today you decided to treat yourself with a few extra hours of this beautiful thing called sleep.

Your phone rest on the bedside table and of course checking it and replying to the unread messages was the first step of your morning routine. The first messages you saw were from the group chat that consisted of you, Kat, and Tara. Apparently, while you were sleeping, Tara and Kat had a whole conversation about a girl’s day that they wanted to plan for you three. The last text sent was from Kat and it read, “I can’t wait for y/n to see all these messages in the morning. We planned the best girl’s day while she was probably passed the fuck out in her bed lmao”.

You smiled sending them a text back alerting them that you are indeed alive and down for all the plans they had created. In fact, you would be seeing them later at Sam and Colby’s place for a couple’s dinner/pool/movie date night. Jake would be there as well, and although you were tragically single, you loved all of them to death and hanging out over there was like the most elite sleepovers you would have with your best friends as a child.

A new text appeared on your screen just as you began to emerge from the comfort of your bed sheets, “God finally you’re awake. I’ve been waiting for Kat to tell me you answered her message all morning. I need your help tonight with a prank. Colby is never going to see it coming”

“A prank? I thought you guys didn’t do that anymore...? But I’m in ;)” You sent back. Out of all the trap girls and all the boys, Colby and you got along the best. Ever since you first met, which was years ago at this point, Colby and you have been inseparable. You tried so hard to avoid your feelings for him, in hopes to not develop a crush that ended up ruining your friendship, but Kat picked up on it right away. She told you constantly that she could easily set you up with the beautiful blue-eyed boy, but you insisted that things would happen naturally if there was truly something there between the two of you. And so, you went on, day by day, falling helplessly in love with the sweetest boy you have ever come to know.

Sam sent a message telling you to head over to their place as soon as possible. You swore that you basically lived there already. You were at their house way more than you were at your own. You couldn’t imagine living further than 15 minutes from them. After what felt like a century to Sam, you arrived at the house. Your hand loudly knocking on the big wooden door.

“Hey y/n! How are you?” Kat asked, pulling you into a big hug as she opened the door. You smiled and hugged back at her kind gesture, “I’m good! How are you? Do you know anything about this prank on you know who?” You questioned her. She glared at you, silently telling you to lower your volume. “Y/n! Colby is right upstairs be quiet!” She whispers, laughing at you almost blowing their cover immediately upon arrival.

Kat was quick to take you by the arm and drag you to the theater room where Sam was already sitting on one of the opulent red couches. He greeted you, telling you that he wanted to film your reaction to him telling you what prank you were going to pull. You agreed and sat down on the sofa facing the blonde. “Colby’s taking a nap right now upstairs because he was up super late last night editing one of our Sam and Colby videos. I figured we could use his exhaustion to our advantage and try and prank him that he woke up in some sort of alternate universe. I figured you could go into his room and set up a couple cameras, and I’ll keep two hidden in the living room where me, Kat, Jake, and Tara will be, so we hopefully get his full reaction. I want you to sneak into his bed and like cuddle him or something and when he wakes up, I want you to pretend that you’ve been dating him for a long time now. He is going to be super confused but just try and convince him that it’s true. If he ends up downstairs, we will go along with it too. I really want to see if he will think that it’s real after a while.” Sam explained.

You felt your face burning as your cheeks became a deep shade of red. He couldn’t be serious right? He wanted you to pretend that you were dating Colby? “I- Uh… I don’t know Sam won’t that be a really mean prank?” You tried to play it off, hoping that you didn’t just annihilate all your efforts to keep your feelings hidden. “You guys are like best friends, I don’t think he could be mad at you for such an innocent prank.” Sam replied. You began to feel incredibly flustered at the thought of having to be so affectionate with Colby. The room started to feel like a sauna as the sweat began accumulating all over your body.

Sure, you and Colby had cuddled before, but it was extremely platonic… Plus, it only happened in very specific moments, like last Wednesday after you had a couple of drinks, and everyone was sat watching a movie where he wrapped his arm around you so you could rest your head since it could barely hold itself up. You snapped out of your thoughts quickly realizing that Sam had been waiting on a response from you. You knew Sam was stubborn, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Your eyes met back with his and the only thing you could get yourself to do was slightly nod your head ‘yes’.

“Perfect.” Sam smirked, getting up to turn off the camera and hand it to you so you could set it up in Colby’s room. You already knew that he was thinking about how many points this would score him for a Sam and Colby prank war if it turns out the way he is wanting.

Before you knew it you had made it all the way up into Colby’s room where you had strategically hidden the camera, facing it towards the sleeping boy in his bed. You let out a deep sigh, trying to prepare yourself for what was about to go down. “If this ruins everything for me, I am going to kill you Golbach.” You whispered, knowing the deep sleeper wouldn’t hear a single thing. And so, the prank began.

You took a gentle hold of the silky black sheets and quietly slipped into bed right next to Colby. There was no game plan in your mind, you didn’t even think up a storyline about your fake relationship for once he woke up. You squeezed your eyes shut in fear as you quickly wrapped your body around his, resting your head under his chin as he slept on his back. He twitched slightly, bringing his arm up, lazily holding you back. The breath caught in your throat, this was already hard enough for you and now he is cuddling you back? You glanced up to see his face, his eyelashes were slightly fluttering, and his soft lips had a slight part in them. He was still fast asleep. You decided to try and wake him up by moving around in his arm slightly, hoping the movement would pull him out of his dreams.

“Y/n?” His voice rung through the room, deep and raspy. He sat up slightly, glancing around the dark lair that he called a bedroom, but his arm still remained around your frame. “W-what are you doing here?” He stuttered, visibly confused by the sight of you in his arms.

“What? I can’t cuddle my boyfriend?” You answered, shocked that you could even get those words to come out of your mouth. His eyes widened at your response, pure shock etched into his face. “Boyfriend?” You felt his heart start to race as he replied.

His arm dropped from your body as he delicately pushed himself out of bed. He was now hovering over you as he stood by the bedside table. There was a clear glass with some water sitting on a coaster on the table. His strong hand wrapped around it as he brought it up to his mouth, downing the rest of the water that was in it. You could tell by his body language that he was beyond confused. The glass clinked as he practically dropped it back onto the nightstand.

“Am I dreaming or something? Since when was I your boyfriend?” His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to look at you for some answers. Your heart sunk thinking about how mean of a prank this truly was, at least from your point of view. “Baby… Are you serious? We’ve been together for years now, are you feeling okay?” You said as you threw your legs over the side of the bed, pulling his hand into your own.

Your thumb gently rubbed circles onto the back of his hand, but only for a couple seconds before he pulled it away. “Is this a fucking prank or something?” He asked, irritation evident from his tone. You shook your head ‘no’, it was becoming hard to process words. You knew this was upsetting him, but Sam had you promise to make the prank last for as long as you could.

“I’m sorry- I have to get out of here really quick.” Colby said, making his way out the bedroom door. You said nothing back, hoping that Sam would end the prank for you as Colby made his way down the stairs.

“Hey brother! You’re finally up. Where’s y/n? I thought we were all doing a couples movie night?” Jake interrogated as Colby glanced to see Sam, Kat, and Tara standing over in the kitchen. Colby brought his hand up to his face rubbing his eyes, there’s no way that Jake is saying this too. Colby began to think that he was seriously going crazy. And then everyone else joined in on the conversation. You could hear them loudly as you stayed glued to Colby’s bed.

Sam began to ask if Colby was feeling alright, and you heard Kat say that maybe we should take Colby to the hospital in case he was losing his memory. You felt the panic in Colby rise as he was deflecting everyone’s concern insisting that he wasn’t losing his memory, and that he definitely wasn’t going crazy. He knew for a fact that you two weren’t dating, and none of them could convince him otherwise. “Dude, she’s gonna hear you up there. You’re going to break her heart. You really don’t remember?” Sam pushed.

You finally had enough. You raced out of Colby’s room and rushed down the stairs. You stopped immediately upon entering the kitchen, seeing everybody else still standing there surrounding Colby. The energy switched as they all looked to you, Sam pleading with his eyes for you to keep going. “I’m so sorry Colby, it was just a prank, please don’t be upset.” You couldn’t handle it any longer, the pain on his face was too much for you to bear. You watched as he scoffed back, “I knew it. Fuck you, guys. I’m going back upstairs.”

You felt horrible as you watched him stomp back up to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Tears stung the back of your eyes, this was all your fault. You excused yourself from the group and somberly made it to Colby’s door. You preceded to place a faint knock on the wood, “Colby? I’m so sorry, can you please open up?” Your voice was so soft, it would’ve been hard for him to hear if he hadn’t already anticipated your arrival. The door swung open as Colby quickly made his way back over to where he previously sat on the couch.

You stayed frozen at the door for a couple seconds, hoping to brace yourself for the angry boy inside. You took hold of the cold metal doorknob, pulling the door shut behind you. You tip-toed your way over to the sofa and took a seat far from Colby. Your mind was running a hundred miles an hour as you tried to concoct a coherent sentence. “What the hell were you thinking? Did you seriously think that I would find this funny?” He spat in your direction.

“It wasn’t my prank, Sam just wanted me to help him out.” You said back, desperately trying to reason with him. He sarcastically laughed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I didn’t ask who’s prank it was y/n.”

You gulped, it felt suffocating in his room. The dark ambiance that normally felt inviting suddenly seemed like your own personal hell. “Colby, I didn’t want to hurt you I swear. I was trying my best to keep everything lighthearted. I could never hurt you.” Your voice was so delicate, it was so hard to speak. The tears were still threating to make an appearance, and that was the last thing you wanted.

“But you did, y/n. That’s the thing. Whether or not you ‘meant’ to hurt me, you did. And everyone else was in on it to. Did you even try and tell Sam that this prank wasn’t a good idea? Did you even think, for a split second, that this was incredibly immature? You were all treating me like I was losing my damn mind, trying to convince me that we were dating when we clearly never were.”

His words hurt, but they were all true. You had never been together, what were you thinking pretending like you were? All to satisfy Sam? To help him get a head start on the prank wars by completely crushing Colby’s heart? He is your best friend for crying out loud. “Look Colby. I never wanted to do this, okay? Did you ever stop and think that maybe I didn’t want to be doing this either? You mean everything to me. Why would I ever purposely hurt you? Especially after everything we have been through. All the ups and downs, the messy breakups, all the fights. I love you so god damn much and I hope you know that I would never, ever, hurt you like that.” By this point the tears were streaming down your face. Your previous spot on the couch was long discarded as you now stood right in front of Colby, praying that he knew you were being serious about not hurting him.

Your eyes searched his for any glimpse of a sign showing that he believed you. His bright blue eyes looked a lot more intimidating than usual. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression not giving you any clues. Finally, he responded, “Is it wrong that I’ve never wanted to kiss you as badly as I do right now?”

And finally, there was your sign. His eyes no longer looked intimidating. In fact, they had completely changed into something much different, lust. You quickly took a step closer to him as he took a stand right in front of you, placing his strong hands on either side of your face. He roughly pulled you in, causing your lips to crash together with loads of passion. They fit perfectly together, better than you ever imagined them. They worked in sync as the feeling inside of you was igniting a fire. He was so rough, but surprisingly still gentle. Acting as if one wrong move would completely break you. Your lips remained locked as he pushed you backwards, surprising you as your back made contact with his plush bed. He was on top of you, hungrily continuing the kiss.

You both pulled apart abruptly, gasping for air after your heavy make out session. “I guess now’s a good time to let you know that I am absolutely, one hundred percent, in love with you.” You stated, starring deep into his eyes. “Then I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I feel the same.” He responded, bringing you back in for another passionate kiss. You pulled back again, “So, does this mean I can finally see those handcuffs I keep hearing about in action?” You asked him, slightly laughing. “Only if you promise to keep quiet.” He winked back. And that was the start of your amazing, long awaited relationship.

[donutloverxo]

Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.