#oops. oh well here it is a tad late

[inkstainedpalettes]

Inktuneber Day 9

Static - Jukebox the Ghost

Ohhh another good one! I love Jukebox the Ghost a lot, and some of their quirkier older stuff holds a special place in my heart. This is top of the list. An absolute treat when played live too! That concert T-shirt is my favorite shirt I own

[elixirfromthestars]

Lines Crossed

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)

Summary: You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warning(s): 18+ mdni / drinking / jealousy / forced proximity / smut / female reader / drunk jerk (stranger) / tension / will they won't they oh they will 🫣❤️‍🔥 / sex w/protection / pet names / sprinkles of possessive + protective Bucky so be prepared / there's a build-up so enjoy ❣️

Prompt: oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

a/n: Please be kind this is my first time writing something like this. 🥺🩶 I decided to challenge myself and join @mercurial-chuckles‘ smutty September fest. A tad late on the deadline because Hurricane Helene decided to take the power out. 😭 This is a standalone fic, but you can most definitely read it (and is intended to be) as a continuation of the events of A Night of Frights & Delights. Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! ❤️❤️

part one backstory // divider // ambiance 🤍

You step into the foyer of the Stark Manor, a grand staircase greets you, its golden railing glowing underneath an ornate chandelier. Various guests mingle around the manor, the buzz of conversation accompanying the music that pulses throughout. Everything about the sight in front of you screams old wealth and elegance. 

Your eyes scan the luxurious home with an expression of awe. Despite being invited before, you had never come to one of Tony’s parties. Choosing the comfort of your bed and your favorite show instead. However, this time knowing a certain captain of the baseball team would be here—and your history with him—well you just had to come. 

As you take it all in, your gaze locks on a pair of beautiful blues. The very same ones you were thinking of all day. And by the way he was looking at you, you knew he was awaiting your arrival just as much as you had been waiting to see him. 

There was no denying he most certainly had been. 

Bucky had arrived about half an hour earlier with some of his teammates. His impatience grew by the second at your absence. He was dying to see what you wore for the party. You denied him any sneak peeks, which only fueled his excitement. He tried distracting himself by greeting anyone he could and making conversation, but he continuously gravitated to the foyer, waiting for the moment you stepped in through those doors. 

When you finally did, Bucky knew with the utmost certainty that the wait was worth it. When his eyes met yours you knocked the air straight out of his lungs with the black dress you were wearing. The satin dawning your body accentuated your silhouette perfectly—and the high slit at your right leg showed off the right amount of skin. The way you did your hair and your makeup complimented you perfectly, and Bucky was losing his goddamn mind because of it.  

Sincerely, he was close to whisking you away and keeping you all to himself. 

You looked nothing short of beyond stunning. Bucky had been holding back for months, staying within the lines you drew that night in the tent, and honestly, he deserved a medal for that. It’s the hardest thing he's ever done. What he felt for you couldn’t measure up to anything else in his life. Never had he felt so over the moon in his feelings for anyone. Yet, you brought on those sentiments by just being you. He was sure if he wasn’t in love with you yet, he was damn near close to it. 

And right now, seeing you in that dress, his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. Places that only belonged to him and his bed on those nights you left him wanting more. Thoughts and scenarios where the night ends with him tearing that dress right off you and showing you just how serious he is about wanting you. 

He’s not so sure he can be on his best behavior tonight. 

Bucky discards the drink he had been holding and saunters over to you. Your heart races in your chest when you see the way his blues darken when he rakes his eyes over your form—shamelessly drinking you up. You take in his figure as well, the all-black suit giving him an aura of class and sophistication that was stirring something dangerous within you. 

Bucky cleaned up good, real good.

He stops a mere foot away from you, his eyes twinkling with intentions both of you long for. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until his voice broke you out of your trance. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you leave my side tonight, not in that dress,” Bucky’s voice is deeper than usual, contrasting the charming grin on his face. You roll your eyes playfully, “I don’t need a babysitter, Bucky,” you reply amused at the thought. Having Bucky by your side all night would definitely lead to you two enjoying each other’s company in other ways. 

Not that you would object if it did. 

Bucky’s hand reaches out to touch you, your heart skipping a beat as he adjusts the strap of your dress on your shoulder. His touch lingers for a second more as a light chuckle escapes him. “Maybe not you sweetheart, but I might. Someone’s going to have to keep me in check tonight. I already have a hard enough time keeping my hands off of you and now you walk in looking like a masterpiece and I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself?” He bites his bottom lip for a moment, almost as if to stop himself from saying too much. 

“Something tells me you’re going to lay it on thick tonight, aren't you?” You tease him, all the while your body thrums with the way he compliments you. Bucky always knows exactly what to say to make you feel like the only girl in the room. An effortless gift he had only when it came to you.

“Can you blame me, baby? You walk in and suddenly it's like no one else exists,” his tone is softer, yet serious when he says this. Your heart skipped a beat when he called you baby. The weight of his attention felt in every fiber of your being. Bucky only ever called you baby when he wanted to really affect you. Reminding you of the pull he had over you.  

The spell you two were under was suddenly broken by Darcy, who rushed over to where you were standing and linked your arm with hers. “Sorry! I’m going to steal her away for a bit there Bucky!” She says unapologetically as she tears you away from the man who looks like he could have devoured you if your friend hadn't interrupted. Your protests fall on deaf ears so you're left waving a small—but not definite—farewell to Bucky. 

It seemed Bucky’s friends had been waiting for the right moment to steal him away too. As soon as you were in another room Sam and Steve went up to Bucky and dragged him to whatever antics the baseball team was up to. His disappointment matches yours, but if there was one thing he had proven all these months was that he had a lot of patience. He knew you two would end up crossing each other’s paths more than once tonight. It was only a matter of time. 

“You forgot you promised to stick by my side tonight. My ex is here, I need the support,” Darcy reminds you with a slight pout. She looks like a ball of fire with the way she pulls you through the crowd in her crimson dress. Her eyes dart to every guest looking to avoid her ex at all costs.

“I didn’t forget. I was just saying hi to a friend,” you explain emitting a snort from Darcy, “A friend? If he’s just a friend than I’m the Queen of England.” You roll your eyes, a small huff of a laugh leaving your lips. Darcy wasn’t wrong. You and Bucky weren’t just friends, but you also weren’t anything more—and that was by your account. 

You and Bucky have fallen into a grey area of what you are to each other. At first, after the camping trip, you tried avoiding him. Not because what happened upset you—but because you couldn’t trust yourself around him after that. Making out with him in that tent made you realize that what you thought had been an annoyance towards Bucky was actually the beginning of a deep-rooted crush. One that bubbled to the surface after that night. 

Avoiding him altogether was an impossible task when he lived in the other apartment in the duplex you rented. Especially after he insisted on giving you rides back and forth from campus with the excuse that now that you two were friends it's only natural for him to be more friendly. By his definition, it also included things like buying you food on days he knows you’ve been too busy to get something for yourself, walking you to your classes whenever he has the chance, and going with you to art exhibitions to dabble in your passion with you. 

Oh, and it also included kissing you mercilessly during tutoring sessions. 

Around the time that fall semester began, Bucky asked you if you could tutor him on a few subjects. He hadn’t done the greatest academically last semester and he wanted to keep his grades up before baseball season started. You were hesitant at first, but ultimately gave in when you realized how sincere he was about needing the help. 

Tutoring Bucky meant spending lots of time with him after classes. The sessions were innocent at first, but after the first time kissing on your bed, Bucky made it a tradition to have his lips on yours, and his hands wandering your body at every session. He even stopped hosting parties at his place, preferring being in your room and getting drunk on the taste of you. 

Bucky was too infatuated by you to ever want to do anything else. Studying was an afterthought whenever you were around, and yet he was doing better than he ever had before in all his classes. Being someone you could be proud of was honestly the best motivation he could ask for. 

Deep down you knew you were falling for him. There was a bit of apprehension on your part as you hadn’t known Bucky to ever have a girlfriend. From what you can remember, ever since you’ve known him, he was the kind of guy who preferred flirting and casual encounters. And there was no guarantee you would be the one to break that. So to keep yourself safe you drew those lines—built those walls up high to guard your heart. Bucky respected those lines and never crossed them. No matter how badly he wanted to. 

Some days, like today, made you want to say screw the lines and just give in to what you desired most. However, when that desire included lowering those walls you put in place, you weren’t brave enough to risk it—so you didn’t. Instead, you and Bucky danced around those lines until it drove you both mad. 

Your thoughts follow you for the next hour as you stay by Darcy’s side. Bucky has this natural way of consuming your mind lately—and your sketchbook. You wish you had it with you right now because when your feelings decide to overflow you channel that intensity onto the paper. For months, every page had been filled with graphite drawings of Bucky. His smile, his eyes, his determined expression when studying, his confident stance during baseball games, and everything else that sparked the creative fire in you. You found a lot of solace in drawing him. 

Bucky was undoubtedly your favorite muse. 

You're so lost in your thoughts you don’t register you’re in the kitchen of the manor until the guests around you cheer. It seems Darcy and Thor have fallen into a friendly competition of sorts to see who could down more shots than the other in one minute. A group of spectators and friends have gathered in the kitchen to watch the showdown go down. Your eyes dart to Jane who only gives you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. She is not looking forward to having to drive those two home later.

Contrary to your friends, you weren’t drinking much tonight. Bucky’s lingering presence at the party was all your senses needed to feel like you were in a daze. For appearances, however, you decide to grab one of the red solo cups to blend in with the rest of those around you. 

“Hey, Y/n! Enjoying the party?” A male’s voice comes from your right and when you turn to see who it is a friendly smile appears on your face. It was Ian Boothby, a fellow art major at your university. You’ve had him in enough of your classes to consider him a friend. 

“Hey, Ian. Yeah, I’m having a good time. Are you?” Your question is a catalyst for a much longer chat with Ian. The two of you fall into light conversation about the semester, art, and other relevant topics. It's a nice breath of fresh air compared to the thoughts that had been consuming you tonight. Especially when he tells you the story of one of his painting mishaps causing you to laugh along with him.

Soon after, a hand snakes its way around your waist, and when you smell that familiar woody muskiness you know exactly who it is. 

“Having fun without me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice has a slight edge to it as he speaks, his lips forming a smirk. You face him and the look in his eyes stills you. 

Bucky does not look pleased. 

“Bucky, hey man. How’s baseball prep?” Ian beats you to it by addressing Bucky first. Bucky's eyes flick between you and Ian before he presses you into his side by the hold on your waist. This does not go unnoticed by Ian.

“Boothby, it's going good. How’s the cross-country season treating you?” Bucky asks, his tone giving away how uninterested he is in continuing this conversation. If Ian picks up on the animosity he doesn’t show it as he goes on and on about the sport. Bucky’s impatience grows the more he speaks and his hold on you gets a little more firm. When Bucky’s expression finally gives way to how he genuinely feels Ian finds a way to excuse himself and exit the conversation.

A beat passes before you finally speak, “Ian’s my friend. You didn’t have to scare him off like that,” you say with slight annoyance. Bucky clicks his tongue as he eyes you closely, “I didn’t, but I felt like it,” he shrugs cooly. “Didn't like the way he was looking at you.” He adds, his thumb rubbing small circles on your waist.

“Oh? And how was he looking at me?” 

“Like in the way only I should be.” 

The possessiveness in his voice catches you off guard. The air electrifying around you both at his words. You weren’t going to drink, but you suddenly felt the need to. You take a sip of the substance in your cup, the bitter liquid doing little to ground you. Bucky can tell how he’s affecting you and joins you with his drink. His eyes never leave yours as he gulps some of it down. 

You have to stop yourself from inhaling the entire thing in one go. 

“Ian’s harmless. He’s just comfortable with me because he’s an art major too. I’ve had a lot of classes with him,” you do your best to continue the conversation and ignore the way your body heats up when Bucky gives your hip a possessive squeeze. Massaging the area afterward in gentle strokes.

“You do a lot of bonding over paint?” Bucky’s response is slightly mocking, licking his lips to catch a drop of alcohol that wanted to escape. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he relishes the way you're looking at him now. Your gaze trained on his lips. When you realize he’s noticed, the heat from your body goes straight to your face.

You wouldn’t let him have the upper hand though. Never. 

“Well, when you have to sketch someone’s naked body you obviously become friendly,” your reply causes Bucky to choke on his drink, the hand at your hip falling as he uses it to grab a few napkins from the granite counter behind him to wipe at the mess he made. You hide a wicked grin behind the rim of your cup. 

He narrows his eyes at you, “Excuse me? What does that mean?” He knows what you mean, but he’s giving you a chance to tell him you're joking. He’s not hiding the jealousy that crawls up his spine at your revelation. 

“It means Ian’s a nude model for some of my classes. He may not look like it but underneath those layers, he’s got the most gorgeous—” Bucky cuts you off with a fierce kiss, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you into him. There’s been plenty of times you’ve shut him up with your mouth and it was his turn to return the favor. Because hearing you talk about the naked body of another man gets under his skin in ways he wasn’t used to.  He wasn’t going to just stand there and hear another word of it. 

The kiss catches you by surprise, but soon your drink is discarded in favor of pulling him closer by his blazer. Not caring who sees or what anyone thinks, since it’s the first time you’ve ever kissed in front of others. Your craving for him was far too loud to ignore anymore. Your lips stay locked until your lungs burn begging for air.

Bucky pulls away with a smug smile, his voice an octave lower as he moves to whisper in your ear, “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. I know you love getting a rise out of me, but just so we’re clear—next time you want to mess with me like that—I’ll make sure you can’t even stand after I’m through with you,” his declaration causes a shiver to make its way up your spine. 

You swallow hard, your mouth opening to say something, but no sound comes out. Bucky lets out a rough chuckle, ghosting his lips against your cheek before pulling away to stare at how speechless he’s left you. He’s blatantly savoring every second of it. 

You want to say something—anything. Something witty or playful, but the thought of him making good on his promise—the image it conjures in your mind—keeps you silent.

“Buck! You’re needed at beer pong! Tony’s team is winning and the bet is up to five hundred,” Steve rushes into the kitchen, breaking through the bubble you two were in. His eyes dart between you and Bucky with a knowing look. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at the sight of you two. 

You start to register there’s still an extravagant party happening around you.  

Bucky sighs with slight irritation as he once again gets his moment with you interrupted. He reluctantly tears his attention away from you to call back to Steve, “I’ll be right there!” Steve nods in approval before going back the way he came. 

Now’s your chance to say something, but Bucky pulls away from your body before you can. A coldness replacing where his touch used to be. “Hold that thought, baby. Looks like my team needs their star player,” he winks at you before placing a tender kiss on your forehead, “you keep thinking about what I said while I’m gone,” he says in a gruff whisper, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip in a barely there touch. 

He knows he needs to leave before he takes this somewhere you can’t go back from. 

Bucky doesn’t give you a chance to say anything as he makes a smooth exit. Heading out of the kitchen in the direction of the beer pong game. Your body prickling with an ever growing sexual frustration. You were embarrassingly close to snatching Bucky away and giving in to all your desires in one of the many rooms of the manor. 

“You two need to get a room,” Jane seems to read your mind as she teases you. Appearing from behind you once Bucky was no longer in sight. You can’t deny her words, letting out a small huff, “I don’t know what good that would do. I’ve been clear about not wanting to take things further.” You explain to her, not sure if you could go back on your words for the sake of giving in to what you want now. Jane has had this conversation with you a few times before, and it appears she's hit her limit today. 

 “That man is absolutely head over heels for you. How can you not see that?” Jane shakes her head at you, wondering how she can make you realize what you already know yet deny. There's a vulnerability that overcomes you when you reply, “It’s not that I don’t see it. I just—I’ve never seen him be serious about anyone. The only thing he’s ever serious about is baseball.” Jane looks like she’s about to do something drastic at your denial. 

“Y/n, Bucky is serious about you. He’s literally all about you—he’s chosen you over baseball many times. I’m not around him like you are and even I can see it clear as day. Do you know Thor and like half of the baseball team thinks you two are secretly dating? Stop denying what you know deep down is true and just give in—be happy,” Jane tells it like it is, her tone leaving no room for argument or denial. 

For so long Bucky has shown you another side of him—one not many get to see. He’s given you priority and importance when he didn’t have to. Care and consideration when you needed it most. A shoulder to lean on and a steady support to rely on. Time and time again Bucky has demonstrated how much you mean to him.

Perhaps, you both have been something more to each other for a long time and Bucky’s kept his wishes at bay to make sure things developed at your pace. 

When it finally hits you, you almost feel exposed by how skillfully Jane can read you. At how easily she can see the situation for what it is and not for what your worries twisted it to be. If Bucky had made it clear to you how he felt, what was stopping you from taking things further than they had been before?

At this point, nothing, nothing was stopping you but yourself.

This realization follows you to the dance floor. A very drunk Darcy had pulled you to it along with Jane, babbling tipsily after losing the drinking competition to Thor. You had never seen a living room with such high ceilings before or enough room to host a makeshift dance floor and a DJ booth. The living space had been stripped of its furniture and supplied with top-notch equipment to make it resemble the inside of a club. 

At least in the near darkness, it resembled one.

You’re in a huddle of your closest friends, all of them letting the music guide their movements to their heart’s content. You sway absentmindedly, so you're not merely standing there awkwardly. The kaleidoscope of party lights strobe and kiss your skin with an array of colors as the music thumps around your body. 

A loud cheer catches your attention, the source of the sound coming from a table on the far left end of the room. Tony and his friends were boisterous as they made a shot against their opponent's team in beer pong—Bucky’s team. You had a clear view of it all from where you stood. 

Bucky’s team seems to be taking turns on who drinks every time Tony’s team makes a shot. They look amongst themselves until Bucky steps up and chugs the liquid in the red solo cup. It's like he can feel the shift in the air because as soon as the cup is away from his lips his eyes scan the space and find you, and suddenly it's like you two are the only two people in the room. 

You want him—all of him. You enjoy the teases, the banter, the back and forth, but you know you’d enjoy calling him yours more. 

The music picks up in tempo as your boldness grows. Keeping your eyes trained on him, your hips begin to sway provocatively, tempting him to say screw the game and make his way towards you instead. Bucky’s not even paying attention to the game anymore his eyes soaking up your every move as it fans the flames of desire between you. The atmosphere around you buzzes as the ground shakes due to the sea of dancing bodies, and yet nothing thrums within you more than your need for Bucky. 

The little show you’re putting on for him continues as you roll and wave your body in ways that seduce him. Ghosting your hand along the curves and dips of your figure showing him exactly where you’d like his hands to be. Bucky’s mind is reeling with everything he wants to do to you and none of it involves the dance floor and all of it involves you and him in some private corner of the manor where he can show you exactly what his hands are capable of. 

You are making it impossibly hard for him to concentrate on anything else. 

Slowly and with shady intentions a group of drunk guys circle the huddle of you and your friends like vultures. Finding their way to snake themselves into any corner or crevice they can fit into. Their bodies bumping and grazing against yours. There’s one guy in particular that has his sights set on you. Getting closer to you on the dancefloor and creeping his hands along your waist. You swat his hands away, but he doesn’t disperse immediately. The alcohol on his breath fanning your face causing you to gag. The more you dismiss him the more adamant he was about keeping you close to him. 

Almost instantly, a protective grip pulls you away from the drunk guy. A familiar warmth encases you as Bucky pulls you into his chest, your back to him. Your hands find their way to hold his arms to ease the displeasure the drunk had caused.

Bucky glares at the drunk guy, his gaze cold and unapologetic, “Alright, that's enough.” The drunk guy sneers, his words slurred, “What the—what’s your problem bro? We’re just—” Bucky doesn’t let him finish, “Shut up. You’re not doing anything. You’ve got two seconds to back off or we’re going to have a problem,” Bucky’s reply is sharp and menacing. He directs it to all the men that had swarmed you and your friends. 

Shifting you so you stand at his side, Bucky steps forward to let the guys know he’s not messing around. Your hold goes to his right arm where you’re watching the exchange unfold anxiously. You hope things don’t escalate, not wanting Bucky to get into a scuffle. You know he can handle himself, but the idea of him getting hurt in any way caused your heart to ache. 

The guys size Bucky up and it seems some of them think they can take him on. Until the strobing lights illuminate Bucky’s darkened gaze enough that in their drunk haze, they finally recognize him as captain of the baseball team. That means that fighting Bucky meant taking on the entirety of the team. And with the way Sam and Steve were looking over to see if they needed to step in, and Thor was already storming over—they knew they didn’t stand a chance.

It was comical the way the drunk men scramble to get away as fast as they could. Muttering incoherences and apologies under their breath. They don’t get far as Tony’s hired security for the night promptly kicks them out. 

Thor comes up to check on everyone, giving special attention to Jane who keeps assuring him she’s fine. You turn to Bucky, who’s already inspecting you to make sure you are alright, “Bucky I—” You almost tell him not to worry, that you had things under control, but in reality, you’re glad Bucky stepped in. 

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, Bucky’s tense demeanor softens at your words. He moves to get a better hold on you, his grip at your waist protective teetering on possessive. 

“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. I got you—always,” Bucky’s genuine response makes your heart flutter and your pulse quicken. Your senses are awakened by his proximity, completely enamored with the way he looks at you. 

“Plus, if I’m going to fall for the most beautiful girl in the world, I have to know how to fight right?” Bucky says this like it's the most obvious thing, smirking at the way you don’t hide the smitten grin he elicits from you. There’s a sparkle in your eyes as you stare at him, Bucky’s heart racing at the sight of it.

 “You and your compliments,” you give a breathless laugh, letting your guard down for once and going with the flow. Bucky can sense it. Sense the way there’s a shift between you, the blossoming of something bigger being accepted and not pushed away by you anymore.

“Only for my girl,” he says this like a promise. His right-hand goes up to gently brush against your cheek. You lean into the touch, that same hand cupping your cheek in response. Bucky has never felt more elated knowing that maybe finally you two can go to places he’s only dreamed of. 

“Yours?” You question him playfully, which causes him to chuckle, the sound a low rumble, “You and I both know you are, sweetheart. I told you I had all the time in the world to make you fall for me—and I meant it,” he smiles, an intense fire in his eyes that only accumulates when you respond, “You don’t have to wait any longer, Bucky.”

He wastes no second to connect your lips, kissing you with a loving purpose. His lips have a slightly bitter taste to them from the beer that still lingered there. And yet, the bitterness disappears when one kiss turns into two and then three. His arms encircling you to pull you into his chest, your hands finding their way to the nape of his neck.

Bucky pulls away to ghost his lips against your jaw until his lips brush against your ear, “Those little moves you were doing for me earlier, do them again,” his husky tone sends a shiver down your spine as he tugs you in to dance with him. Your bodies mold to one another, hips swaying in rhythm with the vigorous music. The beat allows you to gyrate and grind in ways that drive him to the edge of his control. 

His hand rests on the small of your back, holding you close, fingers splayed out as if making a silent claim. You can feel the way his gaze burns into you, the air getting hotter making it harder to breathe. Your hands trail up and down his arms as need be. The rest of the party fades away leaving you two alone in this space of this charged energy. Every lingering touch and longing glance is layered with unspoken urges that would soon intensify to the brink of madness. 

“You have no idea what you do to me do you?” 

“I do. I’m not immune to what’s going on between us, Bucky.”

Your body, your voice, the way you plead with your eyes for him to take this further—it causes a stirring within his pants—the fabric getting tighter the longer the dance goes on. He needs to get you away, to get you alone. Bucky needs to satiate this hunger for you that threatens to consume him or he is going to end up doing something Rated R on this dance floor. 

The throbbing between your legs agrees. 

An idea pops into Bucky’s mind when he glances at his group of friends. He increases the volume of his voice so you can hear him over the music, “The baseball team was going to host a game of hide and seek. Should we play?” Playful mischief glimmers in his eyes as he asks you. 

“Hide and seek? Seriously?” You raise a brow, wondering how that was going to work in a mansion full of a million rooms.

“Yeah, come on. It'll be fun,” Bucky draws you away from the dance floor and over to where his friends are mingling and taking a few shots. Steve sees Bucky approach and they have a quick whispered exchange. Your eyes dart between them, curious as to what they're discussing.

“Seems like we’re getting a head start,” he comments to you as he leads you away from the main party and down a few intricate hallways. His hold on your hand is firm, yet careful—almost as if he’s afraid you’ll get lost in one of the many corners of the manor. The thrum of the music fades the further you slip away from the party. Your pulse spikes, both from the adrenaline of the game and the heat that still simmers between you.

Bucky has been to Tony’s parties plenty of times before, so he knows the layout of the manor pretty well. The clicking of your heels along the marble floors echoes at the pace of the beating of his heart. He tries to focus on the expensive artwork that lines the halls instead of the way your hand perfectly fits in his. The artwork is what’s guiding his path through the manor and you are the best distraction he could ask for. 

“Where are we going?” Your voice echoes down the endless hallway. 

“Somewhere no one will find us,” he winks at you, your heart skipping a beat at his words, his pace steady and purposeful as he turns one more corner and slips you two inside a room. You're encased in darkness, blindly feeling for a light switch until Bucky uses the flashlight on his phone to illuminate the space. You faintly make out your surroundings. You seem to be in one of the many guest rooms of the manor. The attention to detail in the room was no short of the attention paid to the rest of the place.

You knew Tony’s family had money, but seeing how they splurged for a mere guest room, meant his family was beyond loaded. 

Bucky whispered something to you, but you didn’t catch it as he took you by the hand and ushered you into the room’s closet, clicking it shut behind him. He reaches up to turn on the small lightbulb to cascade the enclosed space in a soft glow, turning off the flashlight on his phone and putting it in his pants pocket. The tension is now thicker and more palpable in the small space, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

If you had a dollar for every time you and Bucky ended up in a tight space together, you would have exactly two dollars. While maybe strange, it somehow seemed fitting for you two. 

Bucky steps closer to you, your bodies inches apart, the dim light doing nothing to dull the intensity in his eyes, “Now that I’ve got you here—I think I did a good job with the hiding spot, don't you?” His heated whisper brings your breath to a hitch. 

You have to clear your throat to compose yourself, “I don’t know…We had a whole mansion to hide in, and you chose a closet?” You can’t help but tease him, trying to lighten the unbearable tension. 

“Would you rather go hide in the library? The wine cellar? The arcade?” His voice is dripping with mirth taking another step closer to you. He knows what you're doing, but he’s not going to let the tension die down—not this time.  

“The arcade sounds fun,” you quip, leaning back against the wall. 

“Hm, maybe, but I prefer the closet. It’s a lot more private and it has its…advantages,” he reaches out to pull your hand up to his lips, planting a soft kiss across your knuckles. You go to use that hand to lightly push at his chest, but he catches it in time and intertwines your fingers instead. Your heart is racing a mile a minute. 

“Maybe the closet isn’t so bad, but these heels…Worst decision I made tonight,” you shift slightly, not meaning to change the subject, but your heels are torturing you. In the quiet of the closet the pain begins to creep up on you, begging to be acknowledged. After hours of walking on them, dancing, and standing overall—your feet were killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand upright while hiding. 

“Are they hurting you?” 

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Lets get them off then,” Bucky slides his hand underneath your right thigh, eyes locked on yours, as he hikes it up against the outside of his leg. Your hips brush up against his front, your breath catching at the intimacy of the moment. He watches your every reaction as he slides his hand down the underside of your leg until he reaches the strap of your heel. He’s able to undo it effortlessly, relieving you of the discomfort, his fingers grazing your ankle as he slides your right heel off. His every touch leaves heat in its wake. 

“Bucky you really don't have to—” he cuts you off with a soft smile and half-lidded eyes, switching his hold from your right leg to your left one, “I want to, sweetheart. Just let me help, ” he removes the other heel with the same tantalizing tenderness he used for the first one. Putting them to the side where they won’t get in the way.

The relief you feel is immediate.

“Better?” 

“Much.” 

“Good.” 

A moment passes before he speaks, his voice quiet with an underlying devotion, “You don’t get the hold you have on me, do you?’’ His right hand dances along the outside of your thigh while his left plays with the strap of your dress, twirling it between his fingers. The hand at your thigh traces patterns onto it. Trailing intricate swirls across the flesh, along your hips, ascending to your waist, and all the way up to the space between your breasts. The touch lingers there when you let out a soft sigh. 

You honestly forget how to breathe. 

“Say the word and I’m all yours, Y/n,” his voice is rough as his lips ghost against yours—seductively grazing against them. Going so far as licking his lips with an invigorating grin to really drive you crazy.

Bucky is waiting for you to make the deciding move. When you realize this, you throw all caution to the wind, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. You waste no time in granting him access to deepen it. Bucky follows your lead ardently. His hands snake down your body to cup your ass and pull you impossibly close to him. 

Your hands get lost in his hair, a groan rumbling through him at the way you tug at it. You two aren’t sweetly kissing, you're devouring each other. Yearning for the other all night leaves no more room for taking things slow or holding back. You’re both now giving in to what you want most—each other. 

The heat between you intensifies until it crescendos to a boiling point. The aching between your legs imploring you to do something about it. You reach down to tug at the waistband of his pants, causing Bucky to let out a husky laugh. 

“If you want something use your words, sweetheart,” he mutters against your lips, you suppress a groan, “You know what I want. I don't have to say it,” you retort impatiently. Bucky shakes his head, smiling despite himself, “I want to hear you say it,” he dips his head to the crook of your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. The hands on your ass give it a light squeeze emitting a small gasp from you. You can feel the shit-eating grin on your neck. 

“Bucky….I…” your words are cut off by a soft moan when Bucky’s left hand sneaks its way through the slit of your dress until he reaches the inside of your thighs. He massages the flesh there, his thumb brushing against the hem of your panties. 

Your arousal pools impossibly more, and the lustful haze only increases at the way you feel his hardened cock straining against his pants—right against your hip. 

“Mm? What was that, baby? Couldn’t hear you over those pretty noises you're making,” his every word drips with cockiness. 

“You're insufferable.”

“That’s my girl.” 

Bucky kisses your neck with more fervor. Sucking and nipping at the skin hard enough to leave marks. Your thighs involuntarily close together at the way he calls you his girl. He eases them back apart with his deliberate touches. Kneading the soft flesh in his hands as his breathing goes ragged along your neck, tickling your skin. He was on the brink of losing what little control he had left. 

You suck in a sharp breath, losing what little semblance of control you had left the higher his touch gets. He only goes so far, barely brushing across your clothed cunt to give you a taste of what he can do if you just let him hear it. You were desperate for more and he knew it. 

 “Fuck me, Bucky,” you manage to whimper out, hooking your fingers into his empty belt loops and yanking him towards you. Bucky lets out a low growl at the brief friction, his eyes darkening to an almost unrecognizable color. For a moment, his brain short circuits at your words, processing that you really said that to him accompanied by that alluring sound. He’s heard those sinful noises from you before, but never like this. Never with the assurance of more. 

“Say it again.”

“Bucky, please just fuck me already.”

You don’t have to tell him another time. Bucky crashes his mouth onto yours with a new intensity, mumbling lustful promises into your mouth. How he wants you, how badly he aches to make you feel good, how he yearns for his pretty girl to lose herself with him, and so many more things that make you dizzy. 

He moves to bunch up your dress, hiking it up your legs until it's bundled at your waist. His breathing strains at the sight—your black lacy panties luring him in—his muscles tensing at the growing need to be inside you. His left arm reaches down to hook his forearm under your knee and bring it up to his hip. You wrap that leg around him, steadying yourself on your other foot as you grind against each other. You can feel the way his cock aches to be freed and it causes you to arch deeper into him. Your moans mingle into one, the slight relief overwhelming you. 

Bucky takes his free hand and splays it at the small of your back, offering strong support as your bodies continue to grind against one another. A chorus of moans and yearnful whines erupt from you both. All of the pining and hunger for one another amalgamates into one as you continue to rub against each other. You swallow each other’s sounds, tongues tangling carnally as neither of you leaves any room for air.

“Do you have—?”

“Back pocket. Wallet.”

Your lips barely disconnect at the brief exchange. You reach behind him, patting down his backside until you feel the outline of his wallet in his pocket. You take hold of it and bring it forward. Meanwhile, Bucky decides to leave wet kisses along the valley of your breasts. You can barely contain yourself and your soft moans as you pull out the condom. The wallet almost slips from your grasp as the attention to your breasts causes you to tremble. 

You hold it tighter intending to put it back in his pocket when something catches your eye. In the clear slot where his identification should be is a polaroid picture from the weekend camping trip. You’re in that picture sitting next to Bucky on a couple of logs surrounded by your friends and peers. There’s a bright smile on Bucky’s face, his arm around your shoulder as you make bunny ears behind his head.

You love this picture. You have a copy of it taped to your bedroom mirror back home.

At your stillness, Bucky looks up to see what’s going on. When he notices you staring at the picture, he smiles fondly. " It's the only picture I had of us,” he utters softly, causing a warmth to spread throughout you. You gaze at him in tender awe, marveling at the fact that Bucky is real.

Why had you ever doubted he was anything but yours? 

You kiss him this time with all the unspoken feelings you’ve bubbled up and kept inside. The wallet falls from your hands, but it's no matter as Bucky kicks it to the side with his foot, and shudders at the way your lips claim his. This goes beyond lust. Your heart beats with reason, and that reason is the man in front of you. 

“Bucky, I want this. I want you. All of you,” you whisper passionately, your hands lowering to help him unbutton and unzip his pants, the foil neatly tucked between your fingers. A guttural moan leaves him when you push the layers of fabric down and free his cock, pumping it a few times to get a feel of it. His head falls to your shoulder, sighing softly in a near whine as you tear the foil open and roll the protection down his length. It twitches in your hands, his hips bucking at the contact. 

His arms are preoccupied with keeping you close and steady, so you gently guide him to your center. Moving your panties to the side as he tantalizingly slides along your folds before he slowly enters you. Your mouth goes agape at the sensation while Bucky has to do everything to make sure he doesn’t cum right then and there.

This was so much better than what he had imagined in his dreams. 

It's been too long since you’ve done this and the burn at the stretch causes you to cry out quietly. Bucky peppers your face with sweet kisses and whispers of devotion. Trying to do his best to comfort you as he lets you adjust inch by inch. The hand at the small of your back rubs circles into it with his thumb, your own hands shooting up to grip his biceps for support. 

“I’m not gonna last if you tighten up like that sweetheart,” he hisses a groan at how tightly your walls envelop him. You’re really making it hard for him to not come undone in a short amount of time. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby, just relax for me.”

His gentle words are accompanied by thrusts that are slow with a deliberate purpose. He’s careful with his pace as he wants this to go at whatever speed you need. It takes a bit, but his soft kisses and comforting touches coax the burn away until you're left with the ardent ache of needing more. 

“Faster, Bucky,” you plead breathily. He rests his forehead against yours.“Can you handle it, baby?” His question is full of loving concern, prioritizing your pleasure over everything.

“I can…fuck…please,” you assure him, your leg pulling him in tighter causing him to bottom out. Bucky curses and moans all in one. At your assurance, he picks up the pace of his hips, rocking them against you with a fiery velocity. The lewd sounds bouncing off the walls of the closet in waves. 

He gives it to you exactly how you asked him to. That man would do anything for you—just say the word and its done. 

Bucky is on cloud nine at the way you take him. The way your bodies mold and arch into one another’s like you can’t get enough. As if all you ever needed to consume to live was each other. When he goes to kiss you, you can barely kiss back as you’re too lost in the way he slams into you.

“Fuck, baby, if only you could see yourself. You’re so fucking gorgeous making those pretty expressions for me,” Bucky grunts out, drinking up the sight of your face. A string of mewls leaves your lips at the keen attention he keeps on you. Everything about you right now is a work of art in his eyes he wants framed and kept at his bedside. A constant reminder he’s the one who gets to make you look and feel so damn good.  

“Don’t stop, please don't stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to, sweetheart.” 

Your words egg him on to go harder, causing your back to press tightly against the wall. Hiking your leg just a tad bit higher to thrust into you at another angle. This was the best decision he ever made as he hits the perfect spot within you. One that leaves you clinging onto him desperately as your walls tighten on the brink of release. 

It takes a few more fierce drives into you until your orgasm hits you and you're cumming with a feverish intensity. Moaning Bucky’s name in a euphoric mantra that’s music to his ears. It's what brings him over the edge and he stills at the force of his orgasm, his head collapsing into the dip of your neck as he releases into the condom. 

“My girl. My sweet girl. You feel so good, baby,” Bucky softly whispers against your neck. Planting small kisses as both of you come down from your highs. Your arms wrap behind his neck to embrace him and keep him close to you. Bucky continues to mutter sweet praises along your skin, as your hands thread through his hair tenderly. Both of you steadying your breaths as you come back down to Earth. 

If it weren't for Bucky holding your right leg up, it would've fallen from its position at his hip long ago. You’re even more grateful for it now as your body felt completely boneless. And when he pulls out, its the grip he has on your body that keeps your knees from buckling.

Bucky lifts his head so his gaze locks on yours. His blues are swimming with a vehemence that steals your breath and causes your pulse to race.  

“Y/n, I…I wanted to give you some time. Time to figure things out—to figure out what you wanted. I tried pretending I was okay with pieces of you, but I’m not. I want all of you. I want to be yours,” Bucky confesses with sincerity. You reach out to interlock your hands with his, a floodgate of emotions engulfing you. 

“Bucky—” you start, but he’s not hearing it, afraid you’ll want to go back to a place that would devastate him. “Wait, just hear me out. Everything I ever did was to get you to notice me. From the moment we met there was just something about you that kept pulling me in. And I knew—I just knew I had to get to know you. And then one thing led to another and I fell for you—hard. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. There's only you. It’s always been you. Give me a chance, let me prove it to you every day, that I’m yours. That I have been for a long time,” Bucky’s tone borders on pleading, you give his hands a light squeeze to ease the worry in his features. 

“Bucky you have nothing to prove—”

“Y/n—” 

This time you stop him by clamping a hand over his mouth. 

“Bucky, you have nothing to prove because I’ve felt the same way for a long time. I just fought it for so long out of fear that maybe you weren’t serious about me. But I can see now I was wrong. I’ve been yours for a long time too, Bucky. I just pretended I wasn’t—and I’m done fighting it. I’m done being in denial. I want to have something serious with you. I’m ready for it,” your heartfelt confession immediately melts away the tension in Bucky’s shoulders. 

You wanting this as much as he did made him feel like he was on top of the world.

He mumbles something into your hand, the biggest grin on the other side of it. You laugh adoringly at the sight as you remove your hand to replace it with your mouth instead. Both of you sink into the kiss as a deeper devotion is exchanged. 

“Whoever is seeking is horrible at it,” you remove yourself with a light giggle, taking a jab at whoever the seeker of the hide-and-seek game is. A game that was long forgotten by Bucky until you mentioned it. 

Bucky smiles sheepishly, “About that…there's not actually a hide-and-seek game. And if there is they don't know we’re playing,” he confesses with a twinkle in his eyes. You shake your head at him, laughing in disbelief, “Bucky, then what were you and Steve whispering about?” Your curiosity is met with a boyish grin from Bucky, “I was just letting him know not to come looking for me. I wanted to get some alone time with you,” his hands find your hips again to give them a gentle squeeze.

Bucky is far from done with you yet. 

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at his revelation. Of course, he’d come up with a way to get you all to himself. Can you blame him? 

After a few more stolen kisses and lingering touches, you both start to compose yourselves. Adjusting your outfits and collecting your items from the ground. Thankfully, the guest room has its own bathroom where the two of you can clean up much better than in the small closet. Tousled hair, smeared makeup, and sweaty skin required a deeper attentiveness.

You both take your time in freshening up. The bathroom lighting does wonders to reveal every piece of evidence of your sexual encounter. You can now clearly see all the red marks that would eventually turn into hickeys that scattered your neck and chest. Bucky beams pleased at the markings he’s left as you scold him for making them so prominent. 

Bucky doesn’t give a damn. He’d gladly make more in an instant. 

By the end, all that's left is to get your heels on, which Bucky insists on helping you with. He offered to carry you for the rest of the party or even giving you his shoes, but you declined both options. You paid good money for these heels so whether you liked it or not, you were forcing yourself to wear them. 

Bucky helps you up onto the expansive marble counter. Lowering down onto his knees in front of you to slide your heels back onto your feet. Nimble fingers work the straps into place, making sure they're not too tight at the ankles. When he looks up at you, a devilish grin appears on his face. That spark of desire is back in your eyes when you see how good he looks knelt between your legs. Your mind was reeling with ideas as the heat once again pranced across your skin. Bucky’s gaze bore into yours, almost as if he could read your mind. He can’t help but get turned on again. 

You were in the same boat. 

“You know, I have a big stats test on Monday. I could use an emergency tutoring session right about now,” his tone is laced with suggestion as his fingers trace along your ankle. You hum, “Hm? Do you? I think I could accommodate that.” Your reply gives Bucky the go to start kissing up your legs until he reaches your knees. He never breaks eye contact as he places a tender kiss on each one before standing up and giving that same attention to your mouth.

“Perfect. Let’s get out of here, sweetheart,” Bucky mutters against your lips, the kiss a promise of the fun awaiting you for the rest of the night. Now that the lines were blurred beyond recognition, into something deeper, something real, you were both completely all in. 

[notenoughpixel]

[I forgot to post this chapter when it came out, oops.]

[Also it's kinda long :P]

RING RING RING

My boots clack against the metal flooring as I rushed to school. I'd woken up so late I'd didn't even realise the time.

The door to the registration class opened up, the teacher glazed over to the door. A quite tall girl with messy, lavender grey hair had rushed in.

“Not the best start to this year being late hm? Miss Doorman..” The teacher called with a flat voice

“Sorry miss..” The girl replied before sitting in an empty seat in the back.

The day went fine, I knew everyone in my class. Doesn't mean we're friends but I know them.

Lunch soon rolled around, the school only offers batteries so I usually get given whatever spare oil we have at home to drink.

If I have to be honest, lunch is more of just a free time since we- Well workers don't have to eat. This time is used though for clubs and shit like that or just time for kids to gossip what happened in their class with their friends who are in a different class.

I sat down at one of the only available tables and sat my bag on the chair next to me, pulling out a pair of headphones, my phone and a canister of oil. My two remaining friends had gone to some club this lunch so I was alone.

I had already put my headphones on when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up, a girl with short, sandy blonde hair, and emerald eyes stood above me or well actually she was just a tad taller than me when I was sitting. She was holding a small packet of batteries.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” She asked

“Oh uh, no, I don't mind” I gave a small smile

She just nodded before sitting across from me.

She must have been new since she didn't look like anyone I knew.

“Hey, If you don't mind me asking.. Are you new? I've just never seen you before. Did you just move here?”

She sighed but still continued picking at her batteries.

“Yes,” She spoke,

“I moved this summer..” Her voice sounded dead with no emotion.

“Oh that's nice.. What's your name..?”

The girl looked up

“Mia..”

The girl seemed not in the best mental state, she looked tired as well.

“I'm Wren, do you want to maybe hangout after school? I can show you where everything is and we could go outside if you want?”

“Sure I guess… But we've literally just met..?” She said.

“Yeah but my family are usually gone for a couple hours before they come home and it gets lonely. Plus you seem like you need someone to be friends with! It must be scary moving to a new place..”

The girl smiled a small bit before replying,

“Meet up outside the school then?”

“Sure! See ya there!”

We both continued doing what we were doing before until the bell rang once more.

And then soon the end of the school day came.

…

I still

can't believe she's also gone as well.. But I shouldn't let that get me down.

[he-calls-me-kitten]

His Darling Apprentice

Solomon's growing lust for his precious student GN! MC.

He thought it was curiousity and nothing more - this unprompted desire to see you every day. And you didn't disappoint. On the days he couldn't make it, you made sure you did.

Even if it was for 10 minutes between two classes, or dropping by Purgatory Hall on the weekends - your daily meeting was inevitable. He didn't realise how addicted he'd grown to it until it was too late.

It was as if his day didn't end until he had seen you atleast once, smiling and waving as you called out his name, rushing toward him when there was no need to. He wasn't going anywhere. He had simply grown fond of you, he decided.

It got worse, the more you became physically comfortable with him. Resting your chin on his shoulder to read his latest research, tackle hugging him when you finally got a difficult spell right, falling asleep on his lap during late night study sessions. On the days you didn't touch him, he lay sleepless at night.

⚜️

"Solomon! Right here, I've saved you a seat!" You waved to him as he entered the cafe. He smiled and let his body guide him.

It was such a natural thing now too. Whenever you both were in a room together, he'd come sit with you. And you never once, forgot to keep a place open for him.

"So this is the place Asmo is working at?" Solomon flinched at the overwhelming sweet scent in the room. You laughed. The best laugh he's ever heard.

"Yes it takes a while to get used to." You explained. "What else can we expect from a place that only serves desserts anyway, right? Oh there he is! Asmo!"

Solomon followed your gaze to see Asmo coming over to your table, holding two pink drinks on his tray. "Both my favourite humans came to see me! I'm so grateful to my beauty!"

"That uniform looks adorable on you. Is it comfortable?" You said, reaching out to touch the puffy sleeve. Asmo's response was a blur. Solomon's hand twitched involuntarily.

No, touch me instead.

He was shocked at his own thoughts. You literally live with seven other demons who fawn over you endlessly. He didn't think twice about it. Then why does he care now? And why was he imagining you in that cafe uniform too?

"Now here's the deadberry swirlie you two like so much. I added extra whipped cream for you, MC." Asmo winked before someone else called for him.

Solomon sipped from it, the sour and sweet of the drink refreshing his overcrowded brain. "It tastes as good as we remember it, doesn't it MC?"

"Yes. Just a tad bit too much whipped cream though." You laughed as you tried to clean the mess you'd made.

All around your mouth and fingers, dripping down your chin, traces lining down your neck and- Solomon shook his head to snap out of it. But you licking away at it was not helping his depraved spiraling thoughts, as he imagined something entirely unholy.

"Oops, you've got some on your chin too." You reached toward him, a dainty finger wiping off his skin. Your touch felt like a pleasant burn as he watched you lick your finger right after.

You realized none of it, but it was harder for him to keep up a conversation the entire evening.

⚜️

"Ah finally over!" You sighed in relief. "That was the longest assignment we had this term! Ridiculous! It's almost 2 am!"

"Oh come on, I'm sure you've tackled similar things in the human world." Solomon said, setting his paper down after the last revision. He chuckled to himself seeing you in such cute cat-themed pajamas.

"I doubt anything in the human world is tedious enough to make both Simeon and Satan fall asleep trying to finish." You said softly, glancing at the angel and demon asleep in their respective places at the shared table. You had kindly draped some blankets on them.

"Well atleast Operation Study Sleepover can conclude now." Solomon said, preparing to get up. "Now you go sleep on the bed, I'll take the couch, as decided."

He caught you pouting. You had really insisted on taking the couch instead but after a 3-2 round of rock, paper, scissor - you had to give into his rules instead. He tucked you in bed and watched you from the couch, making sour faces at him. Giving him the better blanket wasn't enough for you.

How can someone be this adorable?

He drifted off to sleep watching you twisting and turning in bed, trying to get comfortable. And when he woke up, there was a whole other suprise waiting for him.

"M-MC..." There you were, snuggled tight in his arms, under the same blanket. Your legs were draped over his. The weight of your thighs were nerve-racking and delightful. He felt your arms wrapped around his waist, your breath tingling the bare skin over his collar-bones.

He felt himself harden at your touch, your breath and your lips so close to his. He could lean over an inch and kiss you. Could he possibly dare? What if you hated him for it? No. He couldn't take that chance.

But he couldn't stay here either. He was bursting for release. He softly chanted a spell and found himself in the bathroom. Leaning against the cool tiles, he jerked himself off. The first of many, as he would discover soon.

[sarahs-secrets2]

Slow Burn (Phillip Graves x Reader) ࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

Sarah stop making plots out of song challenge difficulty impossible!!!!!

AHHHH!!! I'm writing outside of my schedule. He is Kacey Musgraves' album Golden Hour coded I don't make the rules sorry. There's like this timeline throughout the story in italics which starts in high school, then like early military era, then early Shadow Company, so I hope it translates well LMAO. Anyways here's some fluff rahhhhhh

Based on Slow Burn by Kacey Musgraves

gn! (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: probably a tad OOC oops, pet names, COUNTRY TWANG (just major fluff)

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

“Whaddya say, we got a date?”Phillip was holding one of your hands rubbing his thumb up along the lines in your palm as he anxiously awaited your answer. 

“Of course Commander, I’d be honored”, smiling back at him as you raised his hands up to your mouth, placing a small kiss on the backs of his fingers. 

“Pick ya up at 8 darling”, he winked as he squeezed your hand and jogged off, turning around to smile back at you as he disappeared down the hallway of the Shadow’s base. 

You and Phillip grew up together in Texas, following each other to the military, and then helping him establish Shadow Company. The two of you were inseparable. In high school, your crush on Phillip became all-consuming, but you could never tell him, it would risk your friendship. 

Timing never worked out for you two. Phillip Graves was a charmer, always with a trail of girls following him around waiting to be next while you sat and watched.

“Must be nice Phil”, you laughed pointing towards the girls who were whispering and giggling towards the handsome blonde stood next to you. 

“Which you think I got the best chance with?”, you hated when he did this because the honest answer was with you. Phillip being oblivious to this of course. “I'm thinkin’ the brunette, or the redhead even,”.

“Oh shut up Graves, you’re so full of yourself, c’mon we got class”, attempting to wave him on from his adoring “fans”. 

Graves finally realized he had feelings for you a year into both of your military careers. Of course, he had always cared about you but he had found himself going out of his way to be next to you more, and whenever you were talking to someone else a creeping feeling of jealousy took over, which he wasn't proud of. 

“C’mon we gotta go”, Graves was tugging your arm pulling you away from the conversation you were having. 

“Phil, wait like 5 minutes I’m in the middle of something”, attempting to get him to calm down for the time being. 

“This is serious, c’mon”, giving into his tugging, you waved sorry to the rookie you were talking to.

“Graves, what the hell?”, he was going to pull your arm off the way he was dragging you through the mess hall. 

“You shouldn't be talkin’ to him”, the second the sentence left his lips, you stopped in your tracks causing Phillip to finally drop your arm. 

“That’s not your decision Phillip, what has gotten into you lately?”, he hid his eyes from you.

“I'm just tryna protect you doll”, his eyes fully glued to some random tile on the floor. 

“I can handle myself, you know that right?” he knew that, he wasn't dumb, it was something he admired you for actually. He wanted to be the one to protect you though. 

You and Phillip had become subconsciously aware of each other's feelings over time. Lingering touches and stares became a habit for the two of you as you waited for someone to make the first move. 

“Dear, are you and Phillip Graves ever gonna finally get together, me and his mama are getting old, and we need some grandbabies”, your mom had this habit of managing your love life, she was the biggest “Phillip Graves” fan as well, always rooting for the two of you to together. 

“Ma, we got Shadow Company, I don't think either of us has time to date or even time for children,”

“Honey, I’m not getting any younger waiting around for the two of you, hurry it up for your mama why don’t you”,

“Okay ma I got it don’t worry, I’ll talk to you later, love ya”, hanging up the phone, you laughed to yourself at how persistent she had gotten over the years about you and Phil, if only he had taken the hint from his mom. 

Shadows and Phillip kept you busy, sure you still had a massive crush on him but it could wait, for the time being, your focus was on keeping the Shadows and Graves safe on missions. 

“Your mama call you too? I just got an earful, I’ll tell you”, you and Phillip were walking through the base after a mission, trying to wind down. 

“Yup heard it all, trust me”, laughing to yourself as you recalled your mom talking your ear off earlier. Phillip was nudging you as the both of you slowly walked down the hall.

“Ya know… I've liked you for a while now”, he had stopped to look at you when he said this.

“What's a while Phil, because I might have you beat”, you were blushing just thinking about how your little high school crush had grown into a man in front of you, and how the both of you were finally admitting the built-up feelings after a push from your moms.

“A while since I tugged you away from that stupid rookie in the mess hallway back in our early military days”, his arms folded across his chest as he smirked back at you. 

“I win, I’ve had a thing for you since high school, handsome”, winking at him.

“You’re joking?”, he was laughing as if you were lying to him.

“I wish Graves, trust me, waiting isn't easy”, while you spoke, Phillip grabbed your hand tracing it with his thumb. 

“How dare I make someone as special as you wait any longer, whaddya say we got a date?”

At the end of the date, Phillip helped you out of his pickup truck, and the both of you held hands as you walked back into the base. 

“Now I hope you don't get the wrong impression of me darling, I don't usually let girls come home with me on the first date”, he laughed at his own joke, earning a small punch on the shoulder from you. 

“Think about the grandbabies Phillip, our poor mothers”, laughing along with him. You two walked slower than normal trying to enjoy the time together, Phillip put an arm around your shoulder pulling you into him, fully wrapping you in his scent as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“This is nice darlin’, sorry I’m such an idiot and didn't put it together sooner, been kicking myself all night over it”, you could tell he was genuinely upset about it. 

“Phil, I’m sorry I didn't say anything, guess I’ve always been too nervous to ruin our friendship” looking up at him shyly. 

“You did ruin it doll, but in the best way possible”, he was smiling back at you, as he placed a small kiss on your forehead. “Now let me get you back to your room, can’t keep you out all night, what kind of gentleman would I be”, placing his hand on your lower back he guided you down the halls. 

“This is me”, glancing at the door and back at Phillip.

“I see that," he nodded at the door, "is this the part where I kiss you?”

“Well, I don’t kiss and tell Commander so that one is up to you”, giving him a small smirk. Phillip tilted your chin up to him, leaning down and placing his lips on yours giving a slow, meaningful kiss. 

“Don't go kissin’ and tellin’ now” he whispered as you both pulled away for air. 

“Wouldn't dream of it Phil,” your hands slid up to rest on his chest as you two stood basking in each other's presence, not worried if someone decided to wander down the hall and catch the pair of you together. “Not to stress you out, but what does this make us?”.

“I'm not sure darlin’, let's just take it slow for now, I want to enjoy every second of it with you”, he smiled at you, raising his hand to cup your face.

“I waited this long, I’m alright with a slow burn”

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Nah cause why is this my best one yet LMFAOOOO

[spideyhexx]

the cookout; b.b. + s. l.

pairing; bucky barnes + sylvie laufeydottir + female!reader

a/n: umm thank @vineridden for talking to me about this and our shared love of Sylvie and Bucky. I couldn't help myself. Pls reblog/comment/give feedback!

masterlist

summary: Sylvie picks up on you and Bucky thirsting over each other and decides to do something about it...and perhaps involve herself.

NSFW 18+ Minors DNI please!!!

WARNINGS: mom's best friend!sylvie. college aged reader and bucky. dirty talk. threesome. grinding. spitting. soft dom!sylvie. some sub!bucky. some dom!reader. oral (female receiving). fingering. unprotected sex. facial. handjob. spanking. kind of edging. some voyeurism. use of the word "whore"

word count: 4.3k (oops)

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

Sizzling grills, water splashing, and the loud chatter erupts from your backyard.

Well, more specifically, your parent’s backyard. It’s not uncommon for them to throw huge cookouts, but this one was big. It’s an anniversary, welcome home, birthday, all the major events tied into one.

You didn’t mind these parties, but part of you wished you could just skip it and stay locked away in your room all day.

It was all good and fun, but the amount of people your parent’s would invite could become quite overwhelming.

One of the only good parts was Bucky. You hadn’t seen him in a couple months, due to the two of you attending different colleges, but that never stopped your frequent texts.

He lived in the house next door, your whole lives spent just a few paces away.

Getting through these parties together almost felt like a tradition. But this time, there was something different in the air.

You did not expect to be hit with a wave of awe as you watched Bucky greet your parents. He was always handsome and perhaps not physically seeing him for a bit made him look better, but shit was he gorgeous. His tight t-shirt was hiding nothing, making the muscles he worked hard on strain more prominently.

And you internally rolled your eyes at his swim trunks that had a cat pattern on them. Seems as though he still loved silly designs.

Your breath catches when he spots you, a grin spreading across his face as he jogs over.

“Flower! God, I’ve missed you,” Bucky says, pulling you right in for a hug. You want to tell him you missed hearing that nickname, but decide against it.

“Missed you too, Buck! Are you ready for a long night?” Bucky smirks at your statement.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you clarify and Bucky still has the smirk on his face. His hands have not left your waist and you wonder if he could tell how much of an effect it has on you.

“I know, just teasin’. Did you hear Sylvie is coming?”

There’s the other good part about these cookouts. Sylvie, a friend of your mom’s.

It was only recently you started to develop a crush on her. With her witty comebacks and smooth accent, it was hard not to.

You might’ve drunkenly admitted your crush on her to Bucky during a late night phone call and he has not forgotten. I

t was easy for you to confess this crush, but somehow not the one you had begun to develop on Bucky himself. You felt a little ashamed that you have been developing feelings for your mother’s best friend, but nothing would ever happen, right?

Bucky tilts his head and pinches your waist.

“You’re already gettin’ lost in your thoughts thinkin’ about her!”

“Oh stop, you think she’s hot too,” you tease, your voice a tinge too loud and Bucky shushes you, putting a finger on your lips.

He did think she was hot.

Bucky revealed his crush on Sylvie as well when you first talked to him about it.

Since then, the two of you joked about it pretty often, but now was your first time seeing her since you’ve acknowledged the little (maybe big) crush.

“Hey Bucky!” One of your cousin’s calls out to him and he looks back at them, before turning to you.

“I’ll see you in the pool?” He questions and you nod, watching as he runs off to talk to more people.

He trips in his flip flops and you burst out laughing, not being able to contain it. Bucky whips his head to look at you and flips you off.

You take one last look at how good his back looks in his shirt before migrating to the lounge chairs, hoping there’s a free one.

That is when you spot Sylvie, laid back in one of the chairs, a drink in her hand.

You take a deep breath before approaching the seat next to her. She smiles widely when she notices you.

“Gonna give me a hug, flower?”

Sylvie beamed, placing her drink down to pull you in for a hug.

Flower.

You could not decide if it sounded better coming from Sylvie or Bucky. Relishing in Sylvie’s hug, you have to stop yourself from pouting when she pulls away just a bit too soon.

“How’re your studies going? I know you were practically jumping to get away from here?” She asks, settling back into her chair.

“School’s good, it feels nice to be around so many new people but, I’ve missed being home if I’m being honest,” you say and she nods in understanding.

“I know I’ve missed seeing you around, flower.”

A heat rushes across your face and you’re happy it’s hot enough outside to keep a facade up. You turn your head away from her, fearing you would end up lost in her eyes.

What you did not expect was for your eyes to lock onto the sight of Bucky taking his shirt off. It’s as though he meant to take it off in slow motion as he carefully lifts it over his head and throws it onto a chair. He puts one foot in the pool and retracts it.

You can vaguely hear him yelling about it being cold.

Bucky sits at the edge of the pool, letting his legs get used to the temperature.

He runs a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already is. Sylvie clears her throat and you turn to her.

“He is an attractive man, isn’t he?”

Her question catches you off guard for a moment, but nonetheless, you answer.

“Yeah, he is.”

A slight weight falls off your chest at admitting it, but how could you not?

Sylvie smirks, “Don’t look now, but he’s checking you out.”

You go to look anyway and sure enough, he’s gazing at you. Bucky turns his attention to a bowl of chips once he notices you caught him.

“You two are so adorable,” Sylvie says.

“Are we?”

She scoffs and leans in closer to you, almost whispering.

“Very much. You’re taking turns checking each other out.”

You laugh and look back at Bucky, who’s decided to lay back in a chair, his legs spread just enough for you to squeeze your thighs together.

“You should go over to him and sit on his lap,” Sylvie mused, chuckling at your shocked expression.

“What?! No, no I can’t do that Sylvie!”

“Why not? He was looking at your bum and now he’s rubbing his thigh, glancing at you like he’s waiting for you to take a seat.” You ponder her words for a moment.

Yes, sitting on Bucky’s lap sounded like a great idea, but you were a tad nervous.

“And I could tell you want him, honey. Do you know what eye fucking in? That’s what you’re doing.”

The fact that Sylvie could see so clearly through your lust filled eyes also managed to send sparks around your body.

“If he rejects you, you can sit in my lap. Now go, flower!”

Well, you couldn’t say no to that. Standing up, you adjust your swimsuit, then walk over to Bucky.

You run through what you should say once you’re by him, but you can’t decide on what would be best.

Too many thoughts are running through your head. Sylvie offering her lap. Her words about sitting in Bucky’s lap and the way his hands look even better against his thighs as you get closer.

“y/n,” he addresses.

“Can I..um, can I sit with you?”

Bucky raises his brow for a moment, but nods and pats a spot on the chair next to him.

“No, I mean, on you. On your lap,” you say and Bucky’s heart skips a beat.

“Sure you can, flower” he says cooly and he immediately wraps his arms around your waist as you settle against his chest, on his lap.

His hands feel warm against your skin, yet send a shiver up your spine. You allow yourself to lay your head on his shoulder, shifting around in his arms to get more comfortable.

“Careful,” Bucky mumbles, clearing his throat. It doesn’t take long to realize you shouldn’t squirm too much.

But you want to. You catch Sylvie’s eye and she smiles at you, raising her drink and then sipping from it.

“Did you have a good talk with her?” Bucky asks.

“Mmhm. She told me to sit here,” you confess, wanting to know his reaction.

He’s quiet for a moment before replying “Mischievous, huh?”

“Like always, but didn’t expect her to...help with this...I suppose.”

“I’m happy she did,” Bucky says, pressing a short kiss on your cheek.

You sit with Bucky for a bit, zoning out and trying to memorize the feeling of his hands splayed across your stomach.

How when he speaks, you can feel his breath hit the side of your face and his voice drops to a lower volume when he only wants to speak to you.

Being so caught up in your thoughts once more, you can’t help but squirm a bit, his arms tightening around you.

“You’re gonna cause a problem,” Bucky tells you, a slight smile playing on his lips. You push back against him and he contains a groan.

“Seems as though I already caused a problem.”

He chuckles and sighs deeply as you wiggle against him, reveling in how hard he’s gotten from your movements.

“We should go inside,” he mutters and you turn slightly to look at him.

“And do what?”

You feign innocence, but the smirk on your face tells Bucky you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Do I have to say it?”

You nod at him excitedly and he gently pushes your head to the side so he could lean his lips against your ear.

“I want to go inside so you could properly touch my cock, since you’ve had so much fun the past twenty minutes grinding against it.”

His words send a shudder through your body and you take one last glance at him before standing up. Bucky follows suit, placing a hand on your hip and keeping you close to his body to perhaps hide his rather big hard problem.

You lead him through the house to your bedroom. You don’t notice how fast you’re walking until Bucky pulls at your wrist and gently pushes you against the wall in the hallway.

“Slow down, flower,” he starts, bringing your hands up to his shoulders. He dips his head down to nudge your nose against his.

“Are you sure?”

You nod and Bucky, with a tinge of hesitance, presses his lips on yours. At first, the kiss is simple.

Bucky’s fingers rub against your sides gingerly and he’s taking his time to feel your mouth on his for the first time. You pull away first, your lips lingering on his own.

You catch your breath, not even realizing how fast your heart was beating. So many feelings are rushing through you, but the main urge coursing around is the one to smash his lips back onto you.

One of your hands drifts up to the back of his head to encourage his mouth back onto yours in a searing kiss.

His actions are a little more desperate as he nips at your top lip and presses his body closer to you. The strain in his swimsuit is undeniable and you whimper as you feel him pushing himself against your thigh. Bucky grunts and you trail your lips to his jaw.

Someone clears their throat and you and Bucky jump apart. Sylvie stands a couple feet away leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest and a playful smirk decorating her face.

“Don’t stop on my account,” she teases, gesturing for the two of you to continue. You look at Bucky and he’s already got his eyes back on you.

“I’m fine with it...if you are too,” he mutters, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“It’s okay,” you reply, kissing him once more.

Heat pools in your belly knowing that Sylvie is watching you make out with Bucky.

“Tug at his hair, flower,” she murmurs and without hesitation you pull at Bucky’s hair, a soft noise escaping his mouth at the sensation.

“Little harder this time.”

You follow her instructions again, tugging hard, causing Bucky to buck his hips against you.

“See? He liked that,” Sylvie comments.

“Why don’t we go to y/n’s room? For more privacy.”

The fact that there’s a party right outside has completely glossed over your mind.

The strong desire to have this moment with not just Bucky, but Sylvie as well was enough to lead Bucky into your room, Sylvie following behind. She closes the door and locks it. She takes a seat in your desk chair.

“Continue...with what you were doing.” Her voice, firm yet soft must’ve been turning both you and Bucky on.

His cock looked like it was suffering from his shorts, while you could feel how soaked you’ve gotten since you first sat on Bucky’s lap.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh.

You straddle him, gasping at the feeling of his hard cock right by where you needed him. Bucky kissed your neck, sucking softly around to find what spots made you weak.

“I bet she likes it right under her ear, Barnes.”

He quickly moved his lips to the spot and sure enough, it made you whimper. You shift in his lap, slightly grinding against him.

His hands fall to your ass, rubbing the skin and pushing you forward to continue grinding.

“Now, flower, look at his lips. What do they look like?”

Sylvie asked and Bucky pulled his head from your neck. You hold his jaw in your hand and gaze across his lips.

“Wet. Redder than usual.”

Sylvie hums as a response.

“Do you think those lips would feel good on your clit?”

You gasp at her words and Bucky smirks.

“I know they would,” Bucky remarks and Sylvie tsks at him.

“I’m not talking to you, Barnes. Be quiet.”

That wipes the smirk off of his face, but does not stop you from smiling.

“They would feel good.”

You answer, and Sylvie hums again.

“You wanna make them more wet? Spit on his lips. Don’t open your mouth, Barnes. You don’t deserve her spit in your mouth right now.”

Bucky groans and you swallow hard, suddenly a little nervous.

Sylvie seems to sense this and you feel her presence behind you. Her hands slide up your arms to your shoulders and she leans her lips close to your ear.

“It’s okay, flower. You’re already doing so good. I know you want to see Buck become a mess, so do it when you’re ready.”

Her praise really does things for you. You grip Bucky’s jaw tighter, his eyes blown out as he looks up at you.

You gather saliva in your mouth and spit directly onto his lips. He has a hard time keeping them closed, but he does it.

“Smear it against his lips now,” Sylvie says, still standing behind you. Using your thumb, you rub your spit onto his lips. Bucky takes a deep breath, probably trying to control himself.

“Do it again.”

You go through the motions once more, but as you smear the wetness across Bucky’s lips, he can’t help himself anymore. He takes your thumb into his mouth and sucks on it lightly.

You pull your thumb away from him and he whimpers.

“He didn’t listen. What are you going to do about it flower? Slap him? That would be sexy.”

“He would like it though, so not a punishment,” you say and Sylvie smiles.

“Hm you’re learning, honey.”

Sylvie places a kiss on your shoulder, the first time her lips have touched your skin so far.

“He does want to cum. He’s pressing so hard against me.”

Sylvie nods, “then we’ll edge him. He needs to put those pretty lips on you first anyways, right Barnes?”

“Yeah, right,” he stumbles out after clearing his throat.

“Switch spots and take the swimsuit off, flower” Sylvie commands.

You hop off of Bucky’s lap, slowly slipping off the bathing suit. You felt the stares of Bucky and Sylvie bore into your body, but Sylvie’s soft smile made you feel more comfortable.

You sit at the edge of the bed. Sylvie leans close so she could whisper only to you.

“Tell him to kneel,” she says. Your brow raises at her and she nods. Looking back at Bucky, you spread your legs, noticing how a blush is coating his cheeks.

“Kneel,” you say, not as confident as you would have hoped, but it still affects Bucky.

You could almost see how it made his cock twitch. Bucky drops to his knees, moving in between your legs.

“No touching,” Sylvie tells him and continues “only use your mouth. Make her cum.”

You rest one hand on Bucky’s head, close to tugging at it again when he immediately places his lips on your cunt. His tongue rolls through your folds as if he’s testing what feels good.

“Pull on his hair, flower. Use his mouth to get off.”

Bucky moans against you as you tug at his hair, pushing his face closer to your pussy. His tongue flicks at your entrance, his nose bumping against your clit. You slowly start to move your hips, using his face, just how Sylvie told you.

“That’s it, flower. Fuck he’s really into your cunt,” Sylvie says, sitting next to you on the bed. She was right, even though you were moving against Bucky’s mouth, he was devouring you.

Wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking harshly, moaning whenever you gasped out his name.

“She’s close, Barnes.” Sylvie did not need to say it, but hearing it made you moan louder.

“That’s a bit too loud, honey,” she mumbles before turning your head and crashing her lips onto yours in a messy kiss.

The kiss combined with Bucky’s mouth sent you over the edge, your body exploding in pleasure. Sylvie pulls away and runs her thumb over your lip.

“Such a good girl. That felt good?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. Sylvie smiles, leaning in to kiss your cheek, then the other. She trails wet kisses back to your lips and licks into your mouth.

“Am I going to get something now?”

You pull away from the kiss to look at Bucky, still on his knees, his cock still frustratingly hard.

“Don’t give us an attitude, Barnes. You’ll get your turn when we feel like it. Go sit on the chair,” Sylvie motions to the desk chair and Bucky begrudgingly takes a seat.

Even though he looks a little annoyed, he’s truly loving this. Loving that you were finally getting to do things with Sylvie...loving that he was making you feel good...and now...loving to watch.

“Can he touch himself?”

You ask, as if reading his mind.

“Your choice, flower.”

“Beg for it, Bucky.” Sylvie is surprised at your tone, but she smirks, looking expectantly at him.

“Let me touch myself, please. ‘M achin.”

His voice breaks a little and you can’t tell if he did it on purpose or not, but it does send a jolt of pleasure throughout your body.

“Go ahead.”

“But don’t cum,” Sylvie warns and she rids herself of her shorts and underwear. Bucky follows suit, taking his trunks off and grasping his cock in his hand.

“Do you want to touch me, honey?”

You nod and she points to the ground. Settling between her legs, your lips ghost over her clit. You look up at her.

“Spit on my cunt,” she says.

Bucky groans behind you and you have an urge to look at him.

You let your spit dribble onto her pussy, maintaining eye contact with her. It’s just now that you remember how insane this was, how bad it may be, but it’s felt so good.

Using your fingers, you spread the wetness on her cunt, smiling to yourself at the little noises she’s trying to keep hushed.

You prod one finger at her entrance, then slowly ease it in, locking your lips onto her clit. You suck lightly at first, trying to build up her release.

“You see how good she is at this, Barnes? Bet you want her lips on your cock, hm?”

You can’t see exactly how he responds, but you do catch a hurried curse under his breath and a wet slick of him stroking his cock.

You add another finger, Sylvie’s thighs squeeze against your head.

You curl them in sync with the sucking on her clit until she’s moaning your name and riding out her high. She bends down to kiss you, groaning at the taste of herself.

“Please let me fuck her,” Bucky whines and you both turn to look at him. He’s completely naked and flushed, his cock resting against his abdomen.

“Seems like he learned his manners,” Sylvie whispers to you, making you giggle.

“How do you want her, Barnes?”

Bucky contemplates, then stands up. He helps you up from the ground.

“Want her from behind,” he says, a low rasp in his voice.

“Do you want that, flower?”

You smile and jump on the bed, positioning yourself on your hands and knees.

You wiggle your ass a bit at him and Sylvie playfully smacks it, causing you to laugh.

“Still can’t cum until we say so,” Sylvie reminds him and then turns to you, “but you could cum whenever you want, honey.”

With that, Sylvie sits back at the desk chair to watch.

Bucky holds his cock by the base and rubs the tip up and down your cunt.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growls, coating his dick in your wetness. You whine as he keeps teasing the tip at his entrance.

A few more strokes and Bucky pushes into you.

You both moan and Sylvie shushes the two of you.

“Please do remember there is a party going on,” she says and Bucky takes a moment to control himself.

The way you clench around him as he pushes himself into the hilt was enough to send him over the edge. But he held that back, focused on making you cum as quickly as possible.

He grips your hips as he steadily pulls out, then glides back in, creating a smooth rhythm. The sound of skin slapping and your short gasps fills the room.

“Spank her a little, Barnes. Not too hard though.”

Bucky does so, softly hitting your cheek and almost doubling over at how much you squeeze him when he does it again.

“Fuck, flower,” he grunts, picking up his pace.

You grip at the sheets beneath you and lower one hand to toy with your clit, still sensitive from when Bucky made you cum earlier.

“Talk dirty to her, I think she likes it,” Sylvie comments as Bucky leans down and swats your hand away to replace it with his own.

He rubs even faster circles on your clit.

“Can you feel how deep I am inside you? Bet you’ve been dreaming about this cock for a while yeah? Just like how you’ve dreamt of Sylvie.”

You whine at that, embarrassment threatening to flood in, but that’s quickly taken away when you hear Sylvie say “That’s cute, honey. I hope you dream of me more after this.”

Bucky pounds into you mercilessly, his fingers never letting up until you cry out his name a bit too loud.

He doesn’t seem to care and fucks you through your second orgasm, watching as you try to catch your breath.

“Help her to her knees, Buck.”

Bucky pulls out of you and you let out a small hiss at the emptiness. You’re tired, but you move quickly anyway, resting on your knees on the ground. Bucky’s cock was dripping with you and the little bit of precum that managed to escape.

Sylvie stands beside him, sliding her hand down his chest, then gripping his cock. Bucky throws his head back in a groan.

“Look at her, Barnes. She’s a little whore, isn’t she?”

Bucky moans, both at Sylvie’s words and the look you’re giving him.

“I think she wants your cum…” Sylvie trails off and looks at you.

It’s crazy how you feel like you know what she wants you to do...without her even saying it. You put your hands on Bucky’s thighs, feeling him tremble slightly.

Soon your mouth is open and you stick your tongue out, pleasantly waiting for him.

Sylvie jerks him off faster. What pushes him over the edge is your hand drifting up from his thigh to cup his balls.

His cum spills out of him, most of it landing on your tongue, but some onto your cheek as well.

“That’s a lot of cum for her, Barnes. Think she likes it?”

Bucky’s eyes struggle to stay open as he’s riding out his high, but he manages to watch as you swallow what was in your mouth. You wipe the rest of his cum off with your fingers and put them in your mouth, sucking them clean.

“Shit,” Bucky groans and you giggle.

You stand up and reach for your blanket, all of a sudden feeling a little cold completely naked. Bucky joins you on the bed.

“You didn’t really get to fuck anyone,” Bucky directs at Sylvie and she shrugs.

“We can’t spend too much time here. Besides, you both did well, I need to give you a reward next time.”

“Next time?”

You ask and she nods, smiling, leaning in close to you, her lips mere centimeters away.

“Of course, if that’s something you, or both of you want,” she mutters.

Sylvie is about to walk out of the door when Bucky says “I know flower here will definitely want more, you don’t even know how many times she’s told me about wanting to kiss you.”

“Bucky!”

You slap his arm and he cackles, laying back against your bed. Sylvie laughs too and sends you a wink before retreating.

Bucky’s gazing at you when you turn to him.

“What the fuck happened,” he jokes and you shake your head, snuggling onto his chest.

“Dreams came true?”

[smashwolfen]

I hope February is treating you kindly! I’m here to remind you to hydrate and smile! Have a sweet sweeeet day today☁️ oh also, I’m proud of you for doing your best it’s good enough

OOPS LATE ANSWERING THIS ONE

But thank you very much!! Yes February was kind to me thankfully! And your words really mean a lot even now! Despite being a tad late I hope your day is going well for you as well!!

[buckyismybicycle]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff Rating: Explicit Tags/Warnings: Established Bucky/Nat, Teachers AU,  Summary:   Clint has a brand new job at Westview Collegiate & Institute, and everything's fine, except: why does it feel like the most attractive couple he's ever seen are coming onto him? Wait a minute - Author’s Notes: Written for @the-poly-armory fic exchange, just super late posting it on Tumblr. Oops!

Snippet below!  [Full story on AO3 here!]

Bucky sips his underwhelming coffee, lounging on a somewhat lumpy couch in Westview Collegiate Institute’s break room for faculty. There is nothing in the staff room that’s remotely exciting, comfortable or inspiring. Unless, of course, his wife is in said staff room.

Nat’s usually there before him, because fate is a fickle thing and his classroom is in the opposite corner from the break room. As if someone really thought he would ditch his perfectly fine classroom in favour of the bland coffee and perpetual smell of almost-burnt popcorn.

Perhaps, they weren’t entirely wrong, but still, Bucky feels slighted.

When Nat finally comes through, a sandy-haired man is following behind her and – oh, Bucky knows that look so well.

Nat draws that look from everyone, of course, with her fiery hair and matching attitude. He knows he’s a lucky bastard, he always takes the time to remind himself – and everyone else – that he is. He rises, tossing the empty cup in the trash, to sidle over to the pair. Nat is pointing at the floor plan of their school that has been unceremoniously taped to the wall. He notices a hearing aid in the man’s ear, even with how he nods at almost everything Nat’s saying.

“Mornin’,” he greets with his best smile, turning to Nat and kissing her cheek. He’s a tad shorter than the man she’s with, but broader, and he has to remind himself not to do some form of demented peacock strut. She gives him a look that says she knows exactly what he’s doing, but he blinks innocently and extends his right hand to the newcomer, his other tucked in the pocket of his cardigan.

“Hi, I’m Bucky Barnes.”

“Bucky?” The man tilts his head with an amused smile, but before Bucky can defend his name, the man simply nods and says, “Cool. I’m Clint Barton, the new phys ed teacher.”

Bucky tries his best not to raise his eyebrows as they shake hands, and he notices how warm and calloused Clint’s hands are. It’s comforting, in a way.

“Welcome to WCI.”

“Thanks, I’ve already gotten lost twice before Natasha rescued me.”

“She has a habit of taking in strays,” Bucky jokes, before internally cringing at the fact he just called this guy a stray without even knowing who he is. Thankfully, Clint laughs genuinely, the corners of his eyes crinkling. They hold each other’s gaze for a beat longer than necessary before Nat interrupts them.

“And you’re the most annoying one of them all,” she quips, bouncing her hip lightly off his, and brushing imaginary lint off Bucky’s cardigan. He gives her a bit of side-eye, curious why she’s suddenly so handsy when she’s normally allergic to public displays of affection.

“Well, I guess I should try to be on time on my first day,” Clint excuses himself, looking up at the clock.

After saying their goodbyes, Bucky turns to her. “What was that about, huh?”

“Oh, don’t pretend like you weren’t doing the same thing,” she answers with a roll of her eyes.

They stare at each other for a while, and Bucky’s thankful there’s no one else in the room, so he can steal a kiss from her cherry-red lips, feeling them curl against his.

“James —”

“Mm,” Bucky hums, his mouth working its way down her throat. He kicks the door of their loft shut behind him, hands busy with more important tasks.

She tugs at the strands of his hair she has fisted in her grasp, hoisting herself up by his shoulder. Bucky catches her easily, his hand squeezing her ass appreciatively before he rucks up her dress. Her legs wrap around his waist as she places a firm hand under his jaw, tilting it upward to kiss him hungrily.

They don’t make it past the kitchen counter. Bucky slots himself between her legs, pulling the dress over her head, her tangle of red curls spilling over her shoulders when he does. When she goes to kick off her heels, he puts a hand on her knee with a grin.

“Keep them on?” His eyes sparkle as he tilts her hips so she lays flat on the counter and starts to kiss down her heaving chest. She shivers from the cold granite against her back, much like the titanium of Bucky’s hand that’s tugging her panties off.

Instead of responding, she props herself onto her elbows, slinging her legs over his shoulders with a smirk of her own.

Somewhere, somehow, between one orgasm and another, they miraculously make it into their bedroom, and Nat finds herself plastered to Bucky’s chest while they both catch their breath. Her fingers fiddle with his dog tags, while his metal hand runs up and down her spine.

She winces as she shuffles her leg, pleased by how the evening has turned out. “Jealous, were you?”

“No,” Bucky denies, but Nat knows better. “Besides, you were the one that got all touchy feely.”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, this is ridiculous. Besides…”

Bucky turns his head at the way her sentence trails off. “Oh, I know that tone. Spit it out, what wicked plan have you concocted.”

She flicks his nipple playfully, chuckling at his yelp of surprise. “Well it’s obvious we’re both interested, wouldn’t you say?”

“… I won’t confirm or deny this fact until I hear the rest of this.”

She rolls on top of him, straddling his waist, as his hands smooth over her thighs. “And it’s obvious he’s interested in us.”

Bucky raises a brow. “You think he’d be open to it?”

“Absolutely.”

Bucky grins up at her. She has a knack for being right about these things. “I like where this is going. Who gets the honour of breaking his poor brain?”

Nat’s eyes get a mischievous glint in them as she lowers herself, hands squeezing at his pecs. “Let’s make it fun, hm? What do you say? We have a little race?”

Bucky licks his lips in excitement. The two of them have always been competitive — at work, at the gym, in bed. It’s kept the spark between them alive and well, and neither of them can resist a good challenge.

“Winner gets…?”

“To call the shots that night,” Natasha decides firmly.

“Oh, hell,” Bucky curses, his fingers dancing up her sides and sliding into her hair. “You’re on.”

Her responding laugh gets swallowed up by his kiss, as they put off dinner for a little while longer.

Thank you all so much for reading & for your support!  Overall Masterpost

Tag List: @fluffyunicorn-96​ @goldylions​ @angryknightstatesmantrash​ @rookthorne​

[izabellq]

Costumes -> Tamaki Amajiki

summary: you accidentally match costumes with tamaki. prepare yourself for a whole day of endless shenanigans.

contains: MAJOR FLUFF, language if you squint (ik canonically, mirio is in 3-B, but for the sake of this plot, the big three are all in 3-A) also, i tried to make this gender-neutral, so if there’s any specified pronouns, let me know and i’ll fix it ASAP!

THIS IS MY HALLOWEEN SPECIAL! (im very much aware i posted this a day late oop)

UA had decided to hold a special event where students could wear their Halloween costume to school. You weren’t planning anything special or unique, just something to get the job done. So, you decided to dress like a cute puppy. It was only a simple onesie: topped with cute floppy dog ears on your hood, and a tail that attached from the bottom. You weren’t expecting to get a lot of attention, which was perfectly fine with you because you were never the type to seek the stage. You topped off the simple look with a black spot on your nose and one around your eye. And just like, you were good to go.

When you walked into school, you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit insecure. It seemed like everyone had decked out for this special occasion. You passed by some anime cosplay, food costumes, group oriented costumes — everything you could possibly think of. And as you made your way to your class, you wondered what Tamaki would be wearing.

You couldn’t help yourself. It was undeniably true that you had a rather large crush on him. Everything about him was enticing. He was so shy that it was usually you who initiated conversation, but that wasn’t enough to make you falter. You understood he wasn’t the most socially active person around. To be frank, it was rather comforting to know that not everyone at UA was a egotistical narcissist.

Finding your assigned seat, you scanned the class. Some of your peers also took the simple route which put some of your thoughts at ease. Others, the more competitive students, were quite impressive themselves.

You turn towards the doorway when Mirio’s booming voice gathers the room’s attention. He was wearing a... whoopie cushion? Oh dear lord. Mirio was a stickler for humor, so of course, he’d wear practically anything that could rise a laugh out of someone. Only, his jokes kind of sucked and no doubt would the class of 3-A be subject to awful fart jokes for the rest of the day. You weren’t so worried about that as you were worried about the two other students usually attached to his hip. One of them being Tamaki Amajiki.

The next one to stop into class was Nejire Hado who was absolutely breathtaking. Her costume, which was nothing more than a fairy, seemed to capture her true personality perfectly. Although, an angel would also be very accurate in her case. She turned towards the entrance way and stuck her head out into the hallway, “Tamaki! Don’t be shy! You look so cute!”

Your heart began to beat just a little bit faster.

“Mirio! Come help me out with him,” Nejire stomped into the hallway, the fluttering of her makeshift wings dissappeared, only to be followed by a laughing Mirio.

When they returned, their hands were clasped over Tamaki’s wrists, forbidding him from turning around and sulking out in the hallway. When you saw him, you’re taken aback. The smallest of gasps erupt from your lips when you notice his costume choice. A onesie, similar to yours, but instead of the dog ears; replaced with cat ones, and a longer tail attached to the back. He had the same minimal face paint (lined whiskers and a nose) as you did, curtesy of Nejire.

When he looked up, his cheeks were flamed with embarrassment. He found your gaze, and if it were possible, he became even more sheepish. You weren’t any different. The thought of having a matching costume with Tamaki, despite not having any prior arrangements, made you equally embarrassed. Now, all you wondered was, did he notice?

Well, if he didn’t before, he sure did now when Nejire spoke up, “Hey Y/N! Oh my– are you a puppy? How cute! Wait! You’re matching with Tamaki! Now you two look like an adorable couple!”

Her excitement, plus her lack of censorship, made the class laugh— everyone’s attention on you and Tamaki. “Nejire...” Tamaki muttered. He stared at the floor, wishing it’d just swallow him whole.

“You guys should take a picture together,” Mirio suggested, walking over to where you sat and giving you a hand. You hesitantly took it, positive that you looked about ready to vomit or pass out. Maybe both. In that order.

Dragged to stand next to Tamaki, you spare him a single glance. He has his left hand up to his face, doing a shoty job at covering his red cheeks. To you, he seemed... more embarrassed than usual? Perhaps he just didn’t wanted to match costumes with you. It saddened you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it now.

Nejire laughed, “Say cheese!”

Tamaki mumbled something that you could only assume was in response to Nejire. In a small pickle of confidence, you grabbed his hand and entangled your fingers with his just before the camera went off.

“Cheese!”

That was first period.

When lunch rolled around, Tamaki had face planted himself on the table.

Nejire and Mirio sent each other a knowing look before moving to console him.

“I don’t understand why you’re not happy, Tamaki! You’re matching costumes with them, you got a picture with them, and they also held your hand!” Nejire listed off the things that happened before the bell rang, signaling the start of first period.

“I am happy...” Tamaki muttered, lifting himself up from the table, “But they probably hate me now.”

“I wouldn’t say that!” Mirio added, “Haven’t I told you that they most definitely have a crush on you?”

“No offense Mirio... but I’m not too keen on taking advice from a literal walking whoopie cushion.” Tamaki propped his arm on the table, before leaning his head into the palm of his hand. The same one you had so eagerly held. He wished to repeat the notion a million more times. Only now, he was afraid he had messed up his one and only opportunity.

Mirio gasped, “I’ll have you know that I got many compliments today!”

Nejire giggled before turning back to Tamaki. “Why don’t we just call them over here?”

“I- um, no... I’d rather not do that,” Tamaki rushed out. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another awkward occurrence with you. You’d surely find him weird.

“Where are they anyways?” Mirio asked, not before sinking his teeth on the apple provided on his lunch tray.

“Oh I see them!” Nejire not-so-subtly pointed at you. Tamaki couldn’t help himself as he turned to look in your direction.

You were laughing at something someone had said before adding your own little quip. You were so cute, he thought. Nejire was the one who suggested he wear a cat-themed costume due to the running joke that he was a ‘cute little kitten’. He was prepared to arrive in his normal uniform but Nejire’s persistence was unwavering. And if he knew what you’d be wearing— would he have accepted the costume more easily? You deserved better than him, he knew, but a small part of him fantasized about the ways you’d love him in a way no one else had before.

“Earth to Tamaki,” Nejire sang, snapping him out of his thoughts. “They’re coming over here, straighten up!”

“Hey Y/N, care to sit?” Mirio asked.

Tamaki’s looking down by the time you got there, so he barely registers it when you sit beside him. Your shoulder rubs against his in brief contact and it makes him shudder. He hopes you didn’t notice.

“What’s up guys?” You brought over a juice box from your other table, sipping on the straw of your drink rather intently.

“Tell Tamaki that my costume is funny!” Mirio piped up, distracted from the match-making he was SUPPOSED to be doing.

You nervously giggled, “Well... your costume is certainly an attention-grabber!”

Mirio seemed pleased with that answer, not having considered the fact that you dodged the question the best way you knew how. Tamaki stared at you, adoration etched into his irises. He didn’t realize he had left out a soft laugh until you were staring at him.

He choked up, “Uh- sorry... I didn’t mean to laugh.”

You smiled, a picture definition of the word perfect. Everything about you, he loved. He just loved you in general. “You don’t need to apologize Tamaki! Your laugh is very cute!”

You pinched his cheek before continuing your previous conversation with Mirio and Nejire. Did you even realize what you were doing to him? He hid his face in his arms and rested on the lunch table. Tamaki knew his face was probably several shades of red and pink. He was only wondering how long it would take before you’d actually kill him with your presence.

And that concluded lunch.

The last period of the day came and went uneventfully. And soon enough, class 3A had returned to the dorms, agreeing to remain in their respective costumes until the clock striked midnight. Some students had decided to spend the night on a scary movie binge, while others payed no mind to the event by studying and finishing thier cumulated late assignments.

You on the other hand we’re stuck in the kitchen, preparing some coffee to get you through the night. Mirio and Nejire had wanted to pull an all-nighter as well, which meant you had to figure out a way to not fall alseep before midnight hit. You already had a messed up sleep schedule as it was, so one more added incentive should make the whole evening smooth sailing.

“Y-Y/N?”

You turn towards the kitchen doorway where Tamaki stood, a bit shellshocked from your presence. Still in that cat onesie, you could see his whiskers had become a bit smudged.

You smiled at him, an ache wrapped around your chest became noticeably present to you. “Amajiki! Shouldn’t you be up in Mirio’s room with Nejire? I’ll be up there in a second, I just gotta finish this.”

“Ah, well,” Tamaki moved into the kitchen, fidgeting with his fingers as he talked. “You were taking a while, so they sent me to check up on you. I’m glad you’re o-okay though.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, turning back to the light stirring of the coffee machine. Your fingers uncoordinatedly tapped the kitchen’s counter, a melodic beat strung to match your voice. Tamaki watched with amusement— nothing like the sight of you in your element could make him any happier.

Actually, there was one thing that would be slightly better.

Slowly, he approached you until he had occupied the space beside you. You noticed him almost immediately, but had pretended to take more interest in your coffee than him. Your heart rate picked up, leaving you to mentally curse your inability to remain calm.

“I have a question,” His voice was hushed, a bit unsure of itself. You turned to look at him but his vision remained on the counter.

“What’s up?” When the coffee machine stilled, you pulled your mug out and carefully placed it in front of you. The smell of the roasted beans infiltrated your nostrils and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“Do you- I mean... I think I’m... no that’s not right. I think it’d better if I just show you...” He bit the inside of his lip, whilst finally mustering the courage to look at you. You’re eyes were widened with curiosity, the reflection of the night settling in your skin.

He moves slightly closer, and when you don’t move away, he softly places his hand on your cheek, angling your face so your centimeters away from each other. Tamaki tries to speak, but he honestly didn’t even think he’d get this far. He’s left utterly speechless. Perhaps if Fatgum were here, he’d supply him with the confidence he needed to pull this off. His anxiety-prone thoughts began to take initiative and he starts to pull away, believing to have bit off more than he could chew. He really did believe you deserved better than him.

But your still there. You’ve always been there. In more ways than one. You grip the front of his onesie and pull him back to his previous spot. His hand recupped your face, and you take this opportunity of surprise to place your lips on his. Nothing more than a second long, only the brush of your lips before the tingling sensation had dissappeared all together.

It wasn’t enough. For either of you. You can’t remember who surged forward first, but it couldn’t have mattered less. The only thing that was being even remotely processed was the heat of your frenzied kisses. Tamaki poured all of his emotions into that moment; from the way he felt when seeing you in your puppy onesie to the butterflies that clouded his mind whenever he thought of you.

You were the first to pull back out of breath. You don’t care that your makeup is beyond repair, or that his is either. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you muttered six words into the smooth crevice of his skin, completely forgetting about the coffee you were prepping for yourself. “I love you, I always have.”

Tamaki smiled, though the nervousness hadn’t completely disappeared. “I love you too.” He admitted, feeling his heart flutter at the mutual affection. It wasn’t one-sided after all, not one bit.

Maybe he ought to take more advice from his friend the whoopie cushion.

Then again, maybe not.

“There waiting for us you know,” Your voice was a bit muffled, having been the after-effect of hiding your face in his neck. He understood you perfectly nonetheless.

“They can wait a little longer,” His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you impossibly closer.

“Kiss me again,” You pleaded.

And so, he did just that.

CHECK OUT MASTERLIST HERE!

[grapevineatl]

We heard it through the grapevine 004

Trigger Warning: Mentions of potential domestic violence situations, armed robbery, Also, to have your character's name removed from the grapevine page for good, write in and we'll work right on that.

Did you miss us? We kind of figured you guys would, it's okay you don't have to admit. Us here at the Grapevine actually have flourishing lives and love lives unlike a vast majority of you but hey, who are we to judge right? Since it's Thursday we figured we'd do things a tad differently today. Throwback thursday! We haven't been around for quite a bit, you know, celebrating our own success and things. So we figured it's the perfect time to mention a bunch of tea that you probably thought we missed or didn't see. Oh, nay nay. Here at Grape Vine we see almost everything! Gossip of the City has nothing on us. Lets start with our favorite lowkey thug Zephan. Not too long ago he was rolling Rulan out of his car at her front porch. Hey girly when Adele said "Rolling in the deep" That's not what she meant btw, and lately he has been hanging heavily with Ms. Solace. Get out while you can girl, he ain't good news. And in true throw back Thursday fashion, Rulan was seen having a nightcap with Mr. Syrus not too long after that? What's the status on that. We'd like to know. He hasn't thrown you out of a car girl so we vote for THAT pair.  Unlike her sister, Serenity, seems to have better luck with the chocolate boy toy Brennon. We haven't seen him and Jaelynn parlaying around as of late? Is that over? Or is that another throwback Thursday situation?

Did everyone see Paris come out on twitter? Here at the Grapevine we don't believe in exposing sexualities, but once they do it themselves we do believe in spilling the tea. I guess he got tired of running around with the birthday boy Nico in secret. Happy birthday by the way. We wonder who is going to give him the birthday loving this year. Is it…Psalm? Paris? Twi-oh nevermind. We'll be here all day if we listed everybody. Anywho, enjoy your birthday! Oh! It's time for another #throwback. Hey Erin did you enjoy being cradled and coddled by Kane on that colddddd night more? Or having some kind of nightcap with Keno more? We have bets placed here at the Grapevine, so let us know, really.

Speaking of Keno.. it seems to be trouble within the Gold clan. Please tell us yall caught that shade that one time. Barry can't seem to trust nobody even blood. Is it Angelo who somehow altered his trust or is it Keno? We'd love to have one of you clear it up. Family drama is the best to witness. That's how we're on season 100 of the Kardashians. Speaking of more twitter bullshit, Aja claims to be clean and sober, which is funny since we got word of him copping after said tweet. Lying to your followers? Shame on you.

One of our favorite couples came to an end recently, and we didn't see that coming. Pierre and Naila seems to be over now. Guess he finally got away from Ike Tu- We mean Naila, and our girl went out with a bang. No really, she banged his car up pretty bad. Poor Pierre he was already driving a donut. We'll get him a shiny bicycle for his birthday because we love to give back at the Grapevine.

Mason seemed to be making his rounds in silence, after entertaining Vashtie for so long our boy is back on the map. We wondered whatever happened to him and Farren? He was spotted recently visiting our new twitter fave Bianca during booty call hours, Who also seemed to entertained Rico around the same time not too long ago. You know you can entertain during the day right? It won't kill you. We promise…

While we're on the late night entertainment. Rico has been quite busy himself. From Bianca to Kassidy, the residence late night crusader. We wonder how Israel would feel to know that. Beware girl, we heard he fist fought his ex right in her living room before. Good thing we never mentioned her and Dakari chilling together on the late night tip as well back in the day. Oop, well now we did. Hide your head! Those damn Davenports. One is a mistress, One is a pimp (clearly) , and one is a criminal. Family goals.

Anywho! That's all we'll spill for now. Just know that the grapevine is back, and we stay with our ears and eyes to the street. Happy Thursday!

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Maid Service

For @shigaraki-p ♥️

Part One

Spotless Maid Service

•Cleaning service for you and your home.

•No mess is too big

•Any home is welcome

•Work around your schedule

•Number

Shigaraki was at the bar looking at this ad in the paper,nursing a glass of whiskey in front of him. He never really cared for the newspaper, it was just about All Might and whatever else was happening in this dumb world. He took in a deep breath picking his glass up to sip it and look around the hideout. Maybe it was a little messy, with Kurogiri not being here no one was there to tell Shigaraki to pick up after himself.

The bar was littered with empty shot glasses and bottles , the shine that Kurogiri once kept up on was gone. The oak scuffed and coarse, Shigaraki was the only one who sat at it anymore. Dabi didn't want to because Shigaraki would make him serve the drinks and well, Toga had better things to do.

The area next to the bar was a little social area, a couple couches and a coffee table. Full of clothes, bloody and dirty. His Switch was in that pile of clothes somewhere, and hell if he's going to dig through bloody shirts and pants.

His bedroom… consisted of a pile of bloody clothes and dust spots from his quirk . His desk had snacks on it and the computer screen was gross along with the keyboard.

Shigaraki swirled the last few drops of whiskey in his glass groaning. Why did he have to call the Maid? Kurogiri handles phone calls. But Kurogiri is not here right now. And if he was then he wouldn't be in this mess. Literally.

The little tv that sat on the bar was not on since no one could find the god damn remote either. Shigaraki pulled his phone from his pocket dialing the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“I need my hideout cleaned”

“Oh oh!!! Okay!”

He raised an eyebrow at your excitement

“My hideout.” He said again

“I just need an address and a good time to come over!”

Head tilt. Interesting. Well can't give away all the surprises. Shigaraki relayed his information to you without a problem.

“Got it! Now on a scale of 1 to 10 how bad would you say the mess is?”

“20, there's blood. And no one wants to touch it.”

“Do you have any hydrogen peroxide or brushes?”

……… “no”

“Okay i might be a tad late i need to pick some up but ill be there soon!!!” Click.

Shigaraki got up rubbing the back of his neck. Interesting. You did not seem fazed by what he said. It sounded like you did not recognize your voice. Must think he's just another customer and not a dangerous villain. He scratched his neck growing irritated , he did not tell anyone he hired a Maid but then again he was the Leader and it didn't matter. Shigaraki walked hideout kicking things out of his way in frustration. “This place is a mess. Stupid.” He stopped by a dust pile in the hallway to look at it, a smile creeping up his face. All gone, one less stupid Pro in this world , and it was so easy . One slip up and he was gone, the only thing left behind were the ugly red shoes.

Shigaraki walked further down the hall going into his room only to stop looking annoyed. The computer was gross, he forgot. Dammit. “She better find my Switch, too.”

•

Around 8 o'clock at night you showed up with your cleaning bag and japanese maid outfit on. The building was.. a little old and falling apart but you did not have to clean the whole thing thankfully. You knocked lightly on the door after making your way up to the correct room.

Shigaraki opened the door with Father on his face staring at you. Oh.. oh my. He smiled.

“Hello! My name is y/n! Thank you for taking interest in my services!” You bowed and gave him a smile. Shigaraki looked you up and down, white hat, semi short black dress with a white apron tied around it and white stockings , black heels. And a bag in both of your hands along with a duster.

“Come in.” He moved to the side opening up the door for you watching closely.

With pep in your step you hurried in , heels clicking along the hard floor . God what a mess. But nothing you could not handle. So you got right to work. Starting with the bar. Shigaraki followed you sitting down, his eyes wandering to his empty whiskey glass. You snatched it up making him blink and click his teeth. He was going to get up but the glass was set back down with whiskey in it. “Here you go” you giggled.

He took the whiskey and removed Father from his face to sip it . Mmm..

Shigaraki stayed at the bar to watch you, he did not say a word, just stared. Watching your legs move around in those stockings, your rear peeking from under the dress. He took a long sip and pushed the empty bottle off the bar .

“Oops”

“Oh!” You turned around to see the glass by your feet. “stay there ill get it” you got down on your knees and Shigaraki got up putting Father back on and rounding the bar to watch you. You were so careful with the glass, making sure it did not knick you or any pieces were left behind. And that dress, it was bunching up by your hips whenever you had to get on all fours to get the underside of the bar.

“What a nice ass.” His eyes widened realizing what he had said. Thank god Father was on his face because that was quite the idiotic slip up.

“Did you say something ?” You asked looking over your shoulder arching your back.

“Uh, no, carry on.” Shigaraki circled the bar again to sit back down and watch you.

••

With the bar done and shiny again you moved to the couch area looking at the clothes with hands on your hips. You looked over your shoulder at the man lounging on the bar, sitting sideways so he could see you, ankle over his knee and hand supporting his head.

“Do you have a laundry room?” You asked, tightening the bow on your back.

“Yes.”

“A basket?”

“Down the hall. First door.”

He watches you walk past him , heels clicking away. You were interesting, not once did you question anything, him. Did you know he broke the whiskey bottle on purpose? Or what he said? Either way, as long as he kept dusting things, you would have to keep coming back.

You returned with the basket to see him in the same spot waiting for you. With a huff the basket was set down by the large pile of clothes . You sat down criss cross next to the pile to load them up. The laundry was interesting to say the least, a dirty red coat , a dirty black coat, black shirts, pants, a few white shirts that looked like whoever was wearing them was really getting their money's worth, it looked like it was for a kid maybe early teens. And a plaid skirt along with a yellow sweater. You tilted your head getting up , basket at your hip.

“Uhm , Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Are you Shigaraki?”

His finger tapped on the bar . So you realized huh? He thought to himself. I wonder if this changes anything. Are you going to run? Beg me not to hurt you? I haven't even told Dabi or Himiko that you're here. The look on your face right now.. is priceless. Not terrified , but more surprised, curious. You must be asking yourself what the hell you walked in too. He smiled, removing Father from his face. “Yes, im Shigaraki. Welcome to my Hideout.”

You stepped back, the weight of the basket making your arm and hip ache. He got up walking towards you, the smirk never leaving his face. Gently he cupped your cheek, pinkie up. “ so what do you think about that?”

You gave him a smile and a light chuckle. “Is Mr Shigaraki okay? I wanted to know what to call you”

His smile got wider as he stroked your cheek with his thumb, his voice humorous. “That's fine , Maid.”

•••

And so started your new job , a Maid for the League Of Villains Leader Shigaraki. It was going to be an interesting few months. You had a lot of cleaning to do, and the events to come were something to really look forward too.

[whythinktoomuch]

iv. to be as good as dead

(pt. i)  (pt. ii)  (pt. iii) 

tw: gore & death (but only of zombies :D)

Kara’s awareness gradually slips out of the syrupy depths of sleep, the low rumbles of Lena and Alex’s conversation casually filtering into her ears. She starts to stir, jerking fully awake only when she accidentally elbows Lena right in the ribs. 

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” Kara says hastily, as Lena clutches at her side with a wheeze. “Oops. I, yeah, sorry.” 

Kara inches over in a futile attempt to provide Lena with some more space, but her bed was never really meant to accommodate more than one person at a time.

“It’s fine,” Lena grumbles. “I actually prefer my lungs bruised.” 

“I’m sorry…” 

Alex just shakes her head as she approaches the bed, and Kara is already averting her eyes with an extended sigh. But Alex crouches down anyway, places a gentle hand atop Kara’s shoulder and squeezes. 

“I heard what happened,” she says softly. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I was leading the group, so of course it was my fault.” Kara directs her words more to her pillow than anyone else. “Like you’ve always said, if you’re the lead—”

“Forget what I said!” Alex snaps. “You’re alive, okay? And you brought everyone else back here, alive. Which means you did the right thing, and that’s all that matters.” 

Kara shrugs and just curls up into a smaller ball underneath the sheets. Alex sighs, giving Kara’s shoulder another comforting squeeze before slowly climbing to her feet. But on her way out, Alex takes one last pause by the door. She gestures aimlessly toward Kara’s bed. “So, what’s going on here? You two officially banging, or…?” 

“Oh, shut up, Alex, god! It’s not even like—”

“No, Kara was just having trouble falling asleep, so—”

“Mmhm, yeah, I bet,” Alex says, cutting off both their protests as she shuts the door behind her. 

“You’re such a fast reader,” Kara comments, as she watches Lena thumbing through her second trashy romance novel of the day. “You must really dig those, huh?” 

“I kinda hate them actually,” Lena says with a shrug. “But I’m also kinda into the fact that I hate them, so it all works out.” 

“Hm…” Kara nods thoughtfully to herself. Then, “Well, hang on, are they dirty?” 

Lena’s pale features are instantly awash in a very conspicuous shade of pink. “No,” she says several beats too late, and Kara practically pounces onto Lena’s side of the bed.  

“Oh no, no, wait!” Lena is laughing as she falls backwards, Kara scrambling on top as she grabs for the book. “No, Kara, stop, you’re not allowed to look!” 

Kara fumbles with the book, fingertips slipping off the glossy cover as Lena tosses it just out of reach behind her. But persistent as ever, Kara just climbs a bit higher, now practically straddling Lena’s stomach. Her next swipe overshoots by a tad though, and she ends up swatting at Lena’s rucksack instead. 

“No—!” Lena says in a sharp inhale, but Kara’s already caught the bag by one of the shoulder straps before it could hit the ground. 

Though considerably lighter now, the rucksack seems to still hold quite a few private things that give a distinct clink as Kara gently sets it back on the bed. 

They both stare at the bag in silence until Kara springs back into action, snatching up the romance novel with a triumphant Yoink! and jumping onto her own bed. She’s barely flipped through the first few pages when the book’s being ripped out of her hands, and Lena’s climbing into her lap and kissing her. 

All of Kara’s grunts of surprise are muffled against Lena’s soft yet sweetly insistent mouth. It’s been a while—much too long of a while, in fact—but Kara’s body eventually remembers what to do, and she’s seizing Lena by the hips and hauling her onto the bed. 

Kara’s breaths are ragged as she settles on top, her kisses near frenzied and desperate, and getting messier and messier by the second. But Lena doesn’t seem to be faring much better, with her eyes darkened, hips bucking up against Kara’s, and it’s honestly gratifying enough just to feel this wanted. 

But then Kara’s tugging at the hem of Lena’s shirt, dragging it up to expose soft skin, the paleness only marred by a slight blush of desire, when Lena stiffens underneath her. 

“Oh, is this… is this all right?” Kara asks, freezing in place. “Because we totally don’t have to.” 

Lena’s face screws up, hesitant. “Um.” 

The door swings opens, and Kara and Lena scramble off each other, in a hasty attempt to make it somehow seem like they weren’t doing exactly what they were just caught doing. 

“Wow,” says Alex, just so utterly bored. “Can’t wait to hear your excuse for this one.” 

A couple of weeks later, Kara and Lena are lazing around in the sun—Kara bouncing a tennis ball against a brick wall, Lena reading some two-dollar sci-fi thriller. They still have yet to talk about the kiss. 

It’s not that they are avoiding it, per se. It’s just been way easier to talk about all the other things worth discussing. 

Like, for example, 

“They’re gearing up for a supply run,” Lena says, eyeing the small group forming by the front gate. She watches as they pass out the guns, lace up their boots, and fix up their backpacks, and such. 

“Yeah.” Kara doesn’t look over. 

“You’re not going with them?” 

“No, Alex is gonna go this time,” Kara says shortly, already walking off toward the barracks before Lena could ask why, tennis ball left behind and forgotten. 

“Hey,” Lena says, when she eventually finds Kara lying in bed with her dusty boots still on. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“What?” 

“Let’s leave the camp for a while. Stretch our legs somewhere that’s not packed with all these people,” Lena insists. “Didn’t you say that there’s a lake nearby? Let’s go there.” 

 “… Why?” 

“Why not? It’s a free country.” 

Kara actually snorts. “There is no country anymore, Lena.” 

“Whatever, let’s just go get some privacy then,” Lena says with a shrug, and Kara perks right up. 

“Privacy?” Kara echoes. “With me.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah.” Kara nods a lot. “Yeah, okay.” 

It’s not very hard to sneak out the front gate, and the ease of their escape forces Kara to admit that maybe this is something that she’s done before. “But only like once or twice. And only when I was going absolutely stir-fucking-crazy, I swear.” 

The aforementioned lake is a trek of couple of miles, but inherent peace brought on by the very sight of it is well worth the journey. Kara stretches out beneath the shade of her favorite tree, heart and face relaxing as one as she watches Lena dip her toes in the water. 

Within minutes, Kara’s on her back with her eyes fluttering shut. And within a few more minutes, Lena is snuggled up to her, head cradled against Kara’s chest, and for a while, everything is good again. 

Kara’s just basking in the sun, taking a brief nap in between classes on a grassy hill, and Lena’s her girlfriend who adores her despite all her cheesy puns, and they’ll probably share a tub of ice cream at some point in the night before engaging in lots of sex and way too little sleep, and everything was just good. 

Almost good enough to be true

“KARA!” 

The panic in Lena’s voice has Kara’s eyes snapping open, and she feels a violent tug on her left foot. A growling zombie, lake water dripping off its disgusting, bloated body as it drags Kara closer to its snapping jaws. 

Kara immediately launches her other foot forward, smashing it into the zombie’s face as hard as she can. It gives her the leverage to slip out of her left boot and scramble to her feet. 

She shoots point blank right through the top of its head. 

But more and more zombies start emerging from the lake, all puffy and rotted, their swollen faces split open in near identical snarls. Kara shoots them down, one by one, but more just keep coming to take their place in an endless swarm. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Kara swears, her fingers clumsy as she tries to reload her gun. “Fuck it, run, Lena, run!” 

They take off sprinting, and actually manage to outrun most of the zombies that are thankfully still incapacitated by their bloated limbs, waterlogged and somewhat useless. 

When Kara throws a glance over her shoulder, just to make sure they’re still in the clear, she misses the dip in terrain, and the pothole sends her sprawling across the dirt. 

Kara turns around and a zombie is already almost upon her, its stagger increasing in speed, as if it could already taste the sweet victory of Kara’s flesh. She reaches for her gun, but it’s landed too far away, and the spare bullets even farther. By the time she faces forward again, she’s all out of options. 

A single gunshot rings out, and the zombie falls heavily on top of Kara, blood and bile spurting all over her face, mouth, and body. She coughs at the taste of decay and rotting water, clambering out from underneath the zombie, now motionless with a prominent hole through its right eye. 

Lena’s standing a couple feet away, Kara’s gun clutched in both hands. She gets the next two zombies between the eyes, then a third right through its cheek. 

The first two crumple instantly, but the last doesn’t slow one bit as it charges at Lena. 

But she doesn’t flinch, only whips out her hunting knife, leaping forward to meet the zombie head-on, and sticks the blade right through its protruding forehead with a shout. 

If Kara didn’t have an entire dollop of zombie goo still dripping from her mouth, she probably would have kissed Lena again right then and there. 

Kara’s not too sure on how or when she finds out, but by the time Alex is back from the scavenging mission, she’s stomping toward her and Lena like she already knows. 

“Listen, Alex,” Kara starts off right away, swiftly putting herself in front of Lena. “It’s not her fault. I wanted to go too, and, look, we’re fine now, and…” 

But Alex shoves right past her and yanks Lena into a violent bear hug that lifts her straight off the ground. “Thank you,” she sobs over and over again into Lena’s hair. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

(next part here)

[etoileholland]

Hold me tight, tell me I’m the only one

Pairing: Peter Parker x female reader

Word count: 4.1k (I got a tad bit carried away oops)

Warnings: so much fluff that you may just have a mouthful of cavities.

Summary: In which you ask a clueless & oblivious Peter to the 60′s themed prom. The description doesn’t do it justice okay I’m bad at summarising I apologise.

A/N: This is the first time I’ve written for my little angel Peter! Also I wish my actual prom went as well as it did here. 

Prom. It was arguably one of the most important events in your junior year. Homecoming paled in comparison to prom, and it was a massive deal to ask someone, and to be asked in return.

People were getting asked out left and right, and in the most elaborate ways possible.

Except for the trio, not surprisingly.

It was a week before prom, and the prom committee was hanging a large banner in the cafeteria. The theme was the 1960’s, and the writing was in the same font as 'The Beatles' logo.

Peter sat down, joining Ned at their usual table. Ned was going on about something, but Peter wasn’t listening to anything that he was saying. He was too focused on you, as you stood on the ladder hanging up the banner.

You weren’t the most popular girl in school, but you were popular adjacent. You took AP classes and were nice and pretty, so naturally people noticed you, but you were a notch down from the ‘elites’. Peter liked that you were nicer than they were, and that you didn’t let your ‘popularity’ go to your head.

Peter knew he had no chance with you whatsoever, but it didn’t stop him from admiring and pining over you.

What did stop him was a swift smack to the back of the head, courtesy of MJ’s binder.

“Ow! What the heck MJ, what possessed you to do that?” Peter rubbed the back of his head, wincing while doing so.

“Because I caught you looking at her again.” She shrugged. “I’m trying to get you to stop doing that, so now when I catch you looking at her, I’ll smack you.”

“What would that help?” Peter asked as he took a bite of his pizza.

“It’s classical conditioning, Peter. It’s basic psychology. Didn’t you pay attention in class, dork? You’ll associate her with being smacked upside the head and then you’ll stop staring at her like a creep.” She grinned as she stole a carrot from his lunch tray.

“Yeah well I’m not one of Pavlov’s dogs, I don’t need to be classically conditioned.” He propped his arm on the table and leaned on it, as he let out a sigh, continuing to watch you talk with your friends.

“Just ask her to prom already.” MJ took a loud bite of the carrot and didn’t bother to close her mouth as she chewed.

“I can’t do that, she doesn’t even care that I exist. Besides she’s probably been asked by someone way more popular than I am.”

“You’ll never know until you ask.”

Ned chimed in, “That’s true, maybe it’s like a paradox. You would think she’s already taken because she’s semi popular, but if everyone assumes she’s already been asked, then no one will actually ask her.” He paused as he took a bite of his granola bar. “I have an idea. I sit by her in AP US History; she always gives me snacks because she knows I’m hungry. Anyway I’ll see if she’s been asked, and if not then you need to hop on the opportunity.” Ned added as MJ gave him a high five.

“Precisely, what he said.” She stole another carrot from Peter’s tray, and he just pushed the tray towards her so she could eat them.

“Fine, but I still have no chance.” He uttered, taking a sip of his juice box.

--

The next day, Ned practically knocked Peter over at his locker.

“Dude, dude you are not going to believe it! Okay so yesterday (Y/N) asked me if I was going to prom with Betty and I said no, because we were going to see a movie together instead. But then she asked if you were going and I said no, but then she was like ‘Well that’s a shame, prom would be a lot more fun if you guys went.’”

“Sooo?” Peter grabbed his book from the locker and slammed the door shut.

Ned grabbed his shoulders and shook him around. “It means that she wants us to come! Maybe she wants you to ask her, I mean why would she ask me first if we were going. She knows I’m with Betty which means she was inquiring about you! Think about it!”

Peter grabbed Ned’s arms and pried his hands off his shoulders.

“Or maybe it’s because she’s on the prom committee and she wants people to attend. It’s her job to recruit people.”

“Hm, you might be right. That would be more plausible.” Ned said as he and Peter walked down the hallway. “But hey, at least she knows you exist.”

“Did you find out if she’s already been asked to prom?” Peter nudged Ned in the shoulder. “Oh rats, I forgot to ask that. My bad.” Ned said as he snapped his fingers.

“Sometimes dude, you are no help.” Peter said as he dodged the herd of students trying to get to class.

Peter insisted on walking the long way to Chem because then he could pass by your locker and get a little glimpse of you. He would notice you always organising your books in the same order, and checking yourself out in the small locker mirror to make sure you looked alright. Even though walking the long way would mean he’d be a minute or two late to class, it was well worth it.

You grabbed your statistics book out of your locker, and to Peter’s surprise, you waved at them. At first he wasn’t sure it was directed at him, but once you said “Hello Ned and Peter!” he knew it was directed at him.

You walked over to them, clutching your textbook to your chest and slightly rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Hey! Ned said yesterday that you weren’t going to prom, so why not? It’ll be a ton of fun, and I’ve also been working really hard on it and I want my efforts to be appreciated.”

“That’s nice of you to ask (Y/N), but I don’t really like going to dances. I was planning on having a Star Wars marathon instead.” He grimaced when he realised how stupid and pathetic it actually sounded, but you didn’t jump at the opportunity to make fun of him.

“Me either, to be honest. I only attend because I plan them; apparently you can’t plan a party and not attend. I mean sure, Gatsby did it but then again it wasn’t required for class participation. Anyways, it’ll be so much fun if you went, please? For me?” You drew out the last word and pouted, and Peter had to grab on to Ned to make sure he wouldn’t faint.

“I, erm, well haven’t had anyone to ask yet, I mean I’m not sure anyone would want to go with me anyway.” Peter rambled as you looked at him sympathetically.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t been asked either, so you wouldn’t be alone.” You hinted, hoping that Peter would ask you to prom.

You had always liked Peter. He was patient, kind and extremely intelligent, there was never a doubt about that. He was always sticking up for people, and you were amazed at how he never lost his temper. You loved his curly hair, his freckles, and how he always smelled like vanilla. He always avoided you when you had a class together, so you assumed that he didn’t care for you much. You had no idea how wrong you really were.

Ned elbowed Peter in the side as he tried to prompt him to ask you out. You were standing right in front of him, and yet Peter was frozen.

“Ah, well it’s not that bad. You have a week to find someone to ask you.” You visibly frowned when he said that, and you just nodded your head.

“Y-yeah, I do have some time, thanks. Anyway see you around.” You walked in the opposite direction from the boys, and Ned elbowed Peter in the side again.

“You idiot! You messed it up!” Ned was smacking Peter continuously, not even caring when Peter pushed him, as Ned knocked over a trash can.

“Oh come on, she didn’t really want me to ask her, did she?” Peter asked, and Ned just slapped him again.

“She did! Why do you think she came over to us and said hi, and then mentioned that she hasn’t been asked to prom yet. She wanted you to ask her to prom and you blew it.”

Peter leaned his head back as he covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god, I really did mess it up.”

“Yeah you think?” Ned was cut off when the bell rang, signaling that they were late to class.

“See you at lunch, Ned.” Peter waved to Ned as he trudged to class.

He knew that he blew it with you, and the last thing he wanted to do was go to class. But he made his way to Chem, hoping that it would distract his mind from what just happened.

He only had to make it through the rest of the day, and then he could go home and cry about it.

—

“I can’t believe it, I tried to hint at him to ask me out but he didn’t.” You signed to your friend Daphné as you plopped on the floor, sitting criss cross.

You and Daphné were best friends since the first grade, and when you learned that she was going deaf, you both learned sign language together so that you could communicate.

“Boys don’t get hints, you know, Peter is pretty clueless.” Your friend Daphné signed back, emphasizing the sign for ‘clueless’.

“I know, but he’s so cute. He doesn’t seem to like me though, he told me that I’ll find someone soon to ask me. Like no, you dork, I want you to ask me out.”

“Trust me, he is always staring at you. Maddie texted me saying that she overheard Ned say that Peter walks the long way to Chem so that he could pass by your locker every day. He clearly likes you, but he’s nervous. Why don’t you ask him out? If he’s too clueless to take a hint, then you should take matters into your own hands and ask him.” Daphné grinned as she signed.

“Maybe I will, thanks Daph.” You signed back as Daphné grabbed a piece of poster paper and some markers. She handed you the materials, and you signed “thank you” to her.

“Ask him at lunch.” She signed as you nodded, grabbing your pencil as you began to sketch out the design.

—

As lunch came around, Peter sat there at the table glumly, not even caring when MJ took his burger from his tray.

“Hey sport, what’s got you down and out?” She said with her mouth full.

“Peter blew it with (Y/N). She saw us in the hallway, and actually spoke to us. She said that she hadn’t been asked to prom yet, and you know what this idiot did?” He motioned to Peter as he let out a sigh, leaning forward to rest his head on the table. “He said, ‘Well you’ll find someone soon to ask you’ like a doofus.”

“Oof, you really did ruin it Peter.” MJ agreed as she continued to eat his burger.

“Don’t remind me, I just need this day to end.” He groaned. He began to lightly hit his head against the table while saying “I. Am. Such. An. Idiot.”

Just then, you were approaching their table, poster in hand. You strutted over to them, and Ned gasped as you stood right behind Peter, tilting your head to see why he was slouched over the table. You gently placed your hand on his back, and let out a little “Peter” in a soft voice.

He shot his head up, nearly giving himself whiplash as he recognized your voice.

“Oh hi, I wasn’t sleeping or anything.” He said as he slapped his forehead with his palm. God I can be such an idiot, he thought.

“That’s good, because I have something to ask you.” You grinned as you held the poster behind your back so that he couldn’t see it.

“Uh yeah sure, what is it (Y/N)?” He asked as you pulled the poster from behind you, opening it so that he could read it.

The poster was black with little stars, and it read: “Yoda one I want to go with to prom”, with baby Yoda right next to the words. The print was in the same font as the Star Wars logo, and the word ‘prom’ was filled entirely of glitter. You clearly put a lot of effort into it, and he couldn’t stop grinning at how precious you were.

“I know you like Star Wars so, yeah. That’s all.” You grinned as he sat there shocked. This can’t be happening, he thought, I can’t believe she really wants me to go to prom with her.

“Well Peter, are you going to give me an answer?” You asked, swaying back and forth on your heels.

“Of course.” Heat rose to Peter’s cheeks as you hugged him from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You took a step back as Peter got up from the table and pulled you into a proper hug. Applause filled the cafeteria when they noticed he said yes, and you let go of Peter’s embrace.

“Penis Parker got asked to prom by (Y/N)? God what day is it, ‘ask a dork to prom’ day?” Flash exclaimed as he got a few laughs from the kids in the cafeteria.

“Ignore him, thank you for saying yes.” You said as he nodded and added “Thank you for asking.”

“You can keep the poster.” You handed it to him, and he rolled it up and put it in his bag. You stood there for a second, unsure of what to do next, but you didn’t want to bug Peter anymore. “Okay well have a nice lunch.” You began to turn around, but you stopped when you felt that Peter grabbed your hand.

“Um, would you want to eat lunch with us? If that’s alright with you and your friends of course.” He asked as you looked down at the hand that he was holding, smiling. “Yes of course, let me just grab my things.” You let go of his hand as you practically ran back to your table, grabbing your food and backpack as you made your way back to Peter’s table.

You set the pizza box down on the table that you ordered from Postmates earlier. You then sat down, making yourself comfortable as you opened the box and grabbed a slice. You noticed Peter eyeing the pizza, his mouth slightly watering as he continued to stare at it.

“You can have a slice, Peter.” You motioned to the pizza as he eagerly grabbed one and took a huge bite out of it.

“Someone” he tilted his head to MJ “ate my burger.” He said as you patted him on the arm sympathetically. “It’s okay, you have an even better lunch now.” You added as Peter nodded.

Sitting and eating pizza with Peter was the best lunch you’ve ever had.

—

The dance was only three days away, and you were staying at the school late, working on the decorations and ordering last minute supplies. You stayed behind while everyone else left, not wanting to miss their other obligations.

Peter stayed late for an academic decathlon meeting, and as he was walking down the hallway, he heard music playing from a classroom. He followed the music and noticed that you were in the classroom by yourself, dancing to the music as you were gluing a flower to the backdrop. He stood in the door frame, admiring how cute you looked when you were dancing. Your head bobbed to the music, your hips slightly swaying to the beat as you hummed the lyrics.

“Do you need some help?” You heard a voice from behind you, and you turned around to notice Peter standing in the doorway. He looked cute in his sweater and jeans, and you noticed his hair was slightly ruffled.

“I think I’m good, thank you for asking though.” You said as you turned the music down slightly. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I could ask you the same, but I just got out of acadeca practice.” He rested his arm on the door frame, and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was.

“Wow, you’re cute and smart.” You said, and Peter began to blush.

“Thank you, you as well.” He said as he felt himself blush.

“Would you like some help?” He took a step into the classroom. “I’d love to help you out, it seems stressful to set the whole prom up.”

“It is, and I would love the help, thank you Peter. Maybe this can wait until tomorrow, I’m pretty exhausted. I’m just worried that this-” you motioned to the backdrop “won’t be finished in time by Saturday. I haven’t really had much help with it.”

“Well I’d love to help you tomorrow after school, I’m available all day.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You pulled him into a hug, but he stood there motionless, unsure of what to do. You idiot, hug her back, he thought to himself, but before he could put his arms around you, you had pulled away.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Peter asked as you grabbed your things.

“I’d love that, thank you again. Do you need a ride home?” You asked as he nodded his head no. “My aunt is actually waiting for me in the parking lot.”

“Good, I want to make sure you get home safe.” You replied and Peter smiled. “You too, now let’s go.” He said as you turned the lights off in the classroom, locking the door behind you as you two left.

—

Saturday finally rolled around, and you were beyond excited. You loved everything about the ‘60s, from the fashion, to the music, to the dancing. You were so happy the committee chose your theme, and you were so committed to the theme that you asked your grandma for a dress from that era. She had an extensive wardrobe with many outfits from the decades she’s lived through, and they were in nearly perfect condition. You decided to go with this dress, which was a peach coloured long sleeve dress, with buttons and a collar. You paired the outfit with white and black patent leather short block heels.

Your grandma even helped you with the makeup, giving you a Brigitte Bardot inspired look, and did your hair in the same way. You really wanted to look and be as authentic as possible.

Admiring your outfit in the mirror, you danced to “A Night To Remember” from the High School Musical 3 soundtrack, practicing the twist and other dance moves.

--

Peter wore a suit and tie, and had May help him with the tie.

“I can’t believe it, you’re actually going to prom! I remember my prom like it was yesterday. I went with Marc Fisher, and he and I danced all night, and stayed up all night too if you know what I mean.” She winked as Peter gagged. “Just be safe, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Remember that.” She placed a kiss on his forehead and helped him straighten his tie. “You are so handsome Peter, I know for sure she is one lucky girl to be going with you.”

“Thank you May, I feel like the lucky one for being able to go with her.” He added, smiling as he fixed the curl in front of his face.

“Now remember Peter, be a gentleman. Open doors for her, ask her if she wants to dance, and make sure that you give her your jacket if she gets cold.” Peter nodded as he was making a mental note of everything.

May patted Peter on the back and handed him the corsage. “Now dance the night away and get groovy with it.” She laughed as she began to dance, while Peter headed towards the door. “Love you May.”

“Love you too Peter, be safe!” She called out as he closed the door.

You told him that you would pick him up at his apartment, so he waited outside for you to pull up. A few minutes later, you drove up in a retro 1960′s Mini, embellished with a union jack painted on the roof of the car. He then gasped as you stopped the car and got out, as you looked like you stepped out of a retro cover of Vogue.  

“Wow” was all he could say as you stood there in front of him, arms at your side as you spun around so that he could see the whole outfit. “You look extremely beautiful; I am truly the luckiest guy in the world right now.” You blushed as he handed you the corsage, and luckily it matched your dress colour perfectly.

“Thank you Peter, you look very handsome yourself.” He blushed as you interlocked your arm in his.

“Tell me honestly, did I go a bit overboard with the whole outfit, even going as far as renting a vintage car?” You asked and Peter shook his head no. “Honestly, I love how dedicated you are to the theme, it shows you really care.” You smiled as you took Peter’s hand in yours, as you led him to the car.

You drove to the venue, which was a community center by a lake, and it was a beautiful location. The committee set up the night before, so that you would have the day of prom to get ready. Peter was amazed at how gorgeous everything looked, and he knew that you had worked so hard on it. He noticed the backdrop to the photo booth that he helped you work on, and he couldn’t help but smile. It felt bittersweet knowing that once prom was over, he wouldn’t have a reason to hang out with you anymore. He didn’t want this night to end, because then he’ll just be back to Peter Parker, and not your date anymore.

Music filled the air as people were around dancing, and the music was a mix of modern and music from the 60s.

“Wanna dance?” You asked as you held your hand out, and Peter gladly took it. “Disclaimer, I’m not the best dancer though.” He said as you led him to the dance floor.

“I doubt that, everyone can do the twist.” You said as you danced and he joined in.

‘Hold Me Tight’ by the Beatles came over the speakers, and you squealed. The Beatles were your favourite band and you had always dreamed of dancing with someone to this song. You were happy knowing that the ‘someone’ was Peter.

‘It feels so right, now hold me tight. Tell me I’m the only one, and then I might, never be the lonely one.’ They sang as Peter held you close to him. He had one hand on the small of your back and the other holding your hand as you two danced to the music.

Peter and you were singing along to the lyrics, and you didn’t realise how close he was to you. “It feels so right, now hold me tight.” Peter sang into your ear, causing you to blush.

“Tell me I’m the only one.” You whispered back, and Peter held you even closer. He looked at you with so much love and adoration, and in that moment it only felt like the two of you, dancing to one of your favourite songs. You two swayed and moved to the beat, but suddenly you two stopped dancing.

Peter looked into your eyes, and then back down at your lips. He licked his, causing you to look down at them. You two were so close that you could feel his heartbeat, and you could see each and every one of his freckles up close. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, and he pulled you even closer to him, as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“(Y/N), thank you for asking me to prom, I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to do so before.” You leaned in so that your lips were only a few centimetres apart, and all you wanted to do was lean in more to kiss him.

“You’re welcome, Peter. I’m just happy you said yes.” Peter let out a “mm” as he cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his touch.

“May I please kiss you?” You whispered, and he replied “Yes.” His lips grazed yours, and he pressed his lips to yours. His lips were soft and they tasted like vanilla chapstick.

After a few seconds, you pulled away first. Peter, suddenly with a bit of confidence, pulled you into a deeper kiss. You were shocked at his burst of confidence all of a sudden, but were happy that he was finally showing you he liked you too.

“I feel like the happiest man ever.” He said against your lips, as you just pulled him into another kiss.

High school musical was right, this truly was a night to remember.

——

Additional A/N: hi! I hope you enjoyed it! Anyway as always, if anyone has any requests please send them my way! Also if you want to be added to the tag list also let me know! :) 

Mes petits anges: @scarletxwidow​ @starkissedholland @fangirlwithasweettooth

[irkimatsu]

Okay, after way too much delay - it's my Eurovision 2021 Final Ranking! This took me a while for a lot of factors - took extra hours at work to make sure I could get time off this week, some recent family events... and most relevantly, the fact that this year is so damn good that no matter what, I knew someone was going to get ripped off by ending up somewhere in the bottom half. Just know that being toward the bottom of the list doesn't necessarily mean I dislike it, especially this year - it just means I like other things more. This year is going to be an absolute bloodbath. I am both excited and terrified.

Try not to take my ranking too seriously, by the way - I'm an American who unironically listens to stuff like Scooch and Dolly Style. I'm not exactly a seasoned music critic. I just know what sort of music makes the happiness center of my brain light up, what the hell is music theory

Ranking made with the sorter at http://esc.gerbear.com/sorter2021.htm, then slightly adjusted when it put some songs concerningly low on the list. Okay, so I cheated a little

Firstly, in the interest in completion - if Belarus didn't get disqualified, they'd be in the big fat 40 rank, with a big bold "Hate" right above. Fuck that song. I've only listened to it once and am so glad I have no obligation to acknowledge it any further. Those fucking lyrics. Mother of Christ. Fuck you guys.

I also offer my condolences to Armenia for their having to bow out this year. I'm sure whatever you guys sent, it couldn't have possibly been worse than "Chains On You".

Now, for the songs that actually matter:

Indifferent:

39 – Spain - “Voy a quedarme” by Blas Cantó: Welp, already I’m gonna get shot. I can’t remember how this song sounds at all. I know it’s tender and genuine and sweet and everything… I just… kinda don’t care. Nothing to say. I liked his entry last year even more, and even that was pretty damn dull. Just not destined to be a Blas Cantó fan, I guess!

38 - North Macedonia – “Here I Stand” by Vasil: I’m with most other rankings I’ve seen; what the hell is this? I at least kinda remember it, which is more than I can say for poor Spain, but oh my god it’s so boring. I really liked “You” last year! What the hell happened, Vasil?

37 – Albania - “Karma” by Anxhela Peristeri: Another “oops” from me, huh. It’s another one I immediately forget about the instant it ends. I at least don’t remember it boring the crap out of me, hence it placing higher than Spain and Macedonia, but I still can’t say anything nice about it – or anything at all, really – so I’ll leave it this low. I acknowledge that I’m in the minority, I won’t protest if it qualifies, but personally, it’s not my pick.

36 – Georgia – “You” by Tornike Kipiani: Give him points for passion, I suppose! At least I’m not laughing at him like I was last year. On the other hand, less ridiculous also means more boring. Points for earnestness, but this is just another song that goes right over my head.

35 – Portugal – “Love Is On My Side” by The Black Mamba: An English song from Portugal? That’s new. Too bad it hasn’t rescued the song from the darkest depths of Boring. I will confess that I spice it up a little by associating it with Homura from Osomatsu-san, thus rescuing it from the deepest pits of my ranking list… but it’s still stuck down here. Portugal and I have never gotten along well Eurovision-wise. I’ve come to accept that.

34 – Slovenia – “Amen” by Ana Soklič: I’m gonna call this a song that I respect more than I like. She’s got a great voice, I can’t deny that… but when I’m ranking this purely based on what I’d go out of my way to listen to, this one falls flat. I warned you at the beginning that I have no taste! I’m not normally into straightforward ballads, the religious connotations are lost on me… this isn’t the song for me.

33 – Austria – “Amen” by Vincent Bueno: Back to back “Amen”s! Tip for getting me to like your Eurovision entry, apparently, is “don’t call your song Amen”. It’s a ballad, earnest and trying but overall not my type of music. I’m running out of ways to say that. Breakup song, a tad bitter, we’ve all heard this sort of song so many times before. It doesn’t stand out, and I think it’d be a waste of a spot in the final.

At least, I thought this was a breakup song when I first wrote this, but apparently it’s about the death of a loved one…? I would say that makes me hate the bitterness, but… given how I’m handling a death in my own family right now… god, I don’t know. I just can’t handle this song, not at any time but especially not now. It doesn’t even provide catharsis like a song later on in the list. It stays this low regardless of its meaning, I just don’t like it, I’m sorry, moving on.

…” 'Cause it all feels like you didn't even try to save us, all this time wasted on a lie”… ugh, my personal problems…

32 – Switzerland – “Tout l'Univers” by Gjon’s Tears: Another one I respect more than I like, and another opinion I’m gonna get my ass beaten for, I’m sure. I respect the artistry, but this is so far removed from anything I’d ever listen to on purpose. It might have landed even lower if I wasn’t afraid of pissing people off. I’ll understand if it wins, but I’ll also be hoping for most anything else.

31 – Russia – “Russian Woman” by Manizha: I don’t get it. Sometimes it’s pleasant enough to listen to, but overall I don’t get it. It’s unique, I’ll give it that! I understand why it won its national final, and why so many people enjoy it! But for me, it doesn’t quite cross that line between “interesting” and “enjoyable”. I'm not Russian - this isn't for me, and it wasn't supposed to be. Though I will confess that there may be some bias at play here. God, I miss Little Big…

Okay:

30 – Estonia – “The Lucky One” by Uku Suviste: The voice is okay, the music is okay, I like how the bitterness is handled here more than in Austria’s… but this is still as high as I can go on this one. It’s serviceable, but this year has so much better to offer.

29 – Sweden – “Voices” by Tusse: Sweden really does like sending the same song over and over again, huh? I don’t hate it, but it does strike me as a lesser “Too Late For Love”, sound wise. Sweden almost never takes risks, and it’s causing me to look over them more and more with every year. I respect it too much to put it in the “Indifferent” category, but given how the rest of my ranking played out, this the best I can do for it. (But again, do not trust the opinions of someone who teethed on cheesy Europop and fondly remembers when Sweden was flooded with the stuff…)

28 – Belgium – “The Wrong Place” by Hooverphonic: Once again, Hooverphonic help Belgium fill the role of Eurovision’s “Most Likely To Appear In A Bond Movie” song. It’s fine. It’s a song! I don’t know what else to say about it! It does its job well enough, it’s just not really a job I care for that much.

27 – Ireland – “Maps” by Lesley Roy: It’s cute enough! A cute little radio tune. It’s no “Story Of My Life”, though. If “22” couldn’t qualify then this probably won’t, either, and I can’t say I’ll miss it all that much. Still pleasant enough when it comes up on the shuffle.

26 – Bulgaria – “Growing Up Is Getting Old” by Victoria: I admit it, this ranks as high as it does because of anime and that’s basically it. If I was still doing plain category sortings this would have landed straight in “Biased”. My favorite anime is about a bunch of 20-somethings learning that growing up sucks and trying as hard as possible to avoid it, and I first heard this song around the same time that I watched that show’s relatively melancholy season finale, so it ended up sticking with me on that note. Don’t have much to say about it musically, just that it makes me picture sextuplets crying and that’s one of my hobbies, so I’ll grant it an “Okay”. (It may also worth noting that if I heard this song before 2019, in the state my life was in before then it would have probably left me too inconsolable to listen to it more than once. Growing up is growing old indeed!

…it’s also worth noting that after I wrote this blurb, a major event happened that really enforced that growing up is getting old, so I listened to this quite a bit for a few days, among some other non-Eurovision songs. I’m probably gonna have an emotional breakdown on Thursday when this one starts. So, um, look out for that, guess. Between this one and Austria’s, I swear to god…)

25 – Italy – “Zitti e buoni” by Måneskin: I’ve been trying to get this one to rank higher, I really have, but its inability to crack the top 20 just says a lot about how damn good this year is. It sounds great, it’s very well done, and I wouldn’t hate to see it win! It’s earned its popularity. Everything holding it back in my own personal ranking is just that, personal – I do lose something when I can’t sing along or understand the lyrics, and there’s another rock song this year that I like way better. Still wishing you guys the best!

24 – Netherlands – “Birth Of A New Age” by Jeangu Macrooy: This song has a great style that I respect a lot. The message, the vibe – even if it’s not a culture I’m a part of, I feel and appreciate the hell out of it, and I really hope it does well. I don’t understand why so many people seem to think it’s not interesting! It may not be the sort of thing I’d go out of my way to listen to, but I’m glad it’s here. Catch me singing out “Yu no man broko mi” on Saturday! It’s been a while since I’ve given a shit about a host country’s entry, so I’m really glad for this one.

23 – Romania - “Amnesia” by Roxen: I’ll admit something else unpopular – I hated “Alcohol You” last year. Didn’t see what the big deal was at all. It sounded okay, I guess, but the lyrics were so pretentious and awful, and I’ve never liked the topic of “I love you even though you have no redeeming qualities whatsoever and you make me feel like shit”. But it seems like in that year, Roxen has discovered that self-love is important, actually, and it’s not worth it spending your time on some shitbag who consistently disappoints you. I appreciate it for that alone. Character growth! Plus, I feel the whole thing of “forgetting how to love yourself because everyone around you sucks”. It’s not the perfect song, not by a long shot, but it has a nice melody, and Roxen has a nice voice. It’s good to hear her using that voice on something I don’t find obnoxious.

22 – Norway – “Fallen Angel” by TIX: Okay, I’ll admit it, this is one where I watched the live video the first time I heard the song, and I was too busy laughing at his outfit to take the song seriously. Jesus Christ, dude, what the hell. Well, that’s Eurovision for you, and the more I listened to it, the more I admitted to myself that I’m a sucker for “I love you but letting you go for your own good, not sure what I ever offered you in the first place” type songs. Knowing the song is inspired by his own disability and self-loathing really twists that knife, to the point where I feel bad that I almost threw this at an anime character. I know I’m usually cold on songs that try to evoke emotions about the singer’s personal problems – Germany 2018, and this year’s Austrian entry – but this one really works for me. Only reason it’s in “Okay” tier is because of its competition – it’d rank way higher in a weaker year.

21 – France – “Voila” by Barbara Pravi: I like a good waltz, I guess! It’s a unique number, and the French language sounds nice, especially with the music. It’s yet another example of how this year is filled with so many interesting entries that I appreciate the hell out of. God bless this diverse year! (Or maybe everything just sounds so good to me because last year’s cancellation left me in withdrawal.) I expect a really nice performance for this one – this song isn’t one you can perform while just standing there, especially not during that speedup toward the end.

20 – Australia – “Technicolour” by Montaigne: That song that sounds like it’s about stripping if you don’t know that she’s saying cloaks. (Guilty as charged.) It’s catchy and fun, and I really love it when it first starts… but unfortunately, it does wear out its welcome toward the end of things. It’s a good party song, just a little repetitive. I still like it just fine, and wouldn’t mind seeing her in the final this year! Hope the performance is colorful and sparkly, it’d suit the song well

Like:

19 – Germany – “I Don’t Feel Hate” by Jendrik: I know stereotyping is bad but I was not remotely surprised to find out that Jendrik is gay. This song is pure gay sass, and god, I love every minute of it. I fully expect it to fall on its ass – this wouldn’t make it to the final if it wasn’t an automatic qualifier – but I’ll have a grand old time watching it! The sarcastic lyrics, the cheerful little ukulele, the middle finger costume… this song is a delight. Only thing that I think really brings it down is that weird spoken bit that interrupts the song. That’s so annoying, brings me right out of it. And I did purposely rank it below songs that aren’t complete shitposts. But thank you for your existence, Jendrik, your contribution to Eurovision is much appreciated.

18 – Israel – “Set Me Free” by Eden Alene: I said it this year and I’ll say it again this year, Eden Alene is a goddess of a woman. Absolutely gorgeous. Appreciation for pretty women aside, it’s a fun party song in a sea of fun party songs! I really do like it, I like her voice, but there’s so much else this year that drowns it out – not much stands out here compared to later entries on the list. Still a good song, though.

…and I do not expect for an instant that this is going to make it to the final. …my personal ranking is based on how the song sounds, okay? Just the song. Just the song. Nothing else. Just the song. Anyway…

17 – United Kingdom – “Embers” by James Newman: What’s this? A UK entry I don’t find bland as off-white paint? That doesn’t happen often! I didn’t like his entry last year, romantic ballad bla bla bla whee, but I’m always down for a good party song. It’s a little generic and radio friendly, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s not fun as hell to sing along with!

16 – Greece – “Last Dance” by Stefania: I really liked last year’s “Supergirl”, but figured it didn’t have too much of a chance because it struck me as being a little too teen poppy to be taken entirely seriously. It seems like Greece thought so, too, because they’ve ramped it up with this year’s entry. They’re not playing around anymore, sending a grand, powerful song that, like “Embers”, is fun as hell to belt. This is another one I’m really looking forward to the live performance for – the music video is gorgeous, and I hope they capture that same majesty on stage!

15 – Moldova – “Sugar” by Natalia Gordienko: Oh, Moldova, I’m so glad you guys decided to be completely batshit again this year. I’ve missed your nonsense so much. Dancing ice cream cones. Cake men. This video is glorious. And the song goes well with the insanity! A catchy dance tune that can only be improved with downright insane staging. Please let the dancing ice cream cones be on stage, I’m begging you

14 – Latvia – “The Moon Is Rising” by Samanta Tina: A unique electronica number backed with a powerful as hell voice. I can see where all the wubbing would get on people’s nerves, but personally, I love it! I love the voice, I love the attitude, Samanta just oozes confidence, and if she doesn’t make it to the final it’s not gonna be because she didn’t give it her goddamn all.

13 – Poland – “The Ride” by RAFAL: Why is this one so unpopular? You people don’t know how to have fun. Yeah, yeah, last year’s “Empires” was a powerful song… but I like my club nonsense much more, so I’m favoring this one. Yet another song that gets me pumped – this whole Contest is gonna leave me with a smile on my face, there’s so much good party music

12 – Azerbaijan – “Mata Hari” by Efendi: Yeah, they’re basically just sending “Cleopatra” again, but “Cleopatra” was so goddamn good that I can’t even blame them for it. This song needed a chance to compete, and I’m glad it’s getting it again this year. I like it so much that I can even forgive the line about being a “godless”. Oh, Europop, don’t you ever change.

11 – Cyprus – “El Diablo” by Elena Tsagrinou: Huh, I didn’t know Cyprus had perfected their Lady Gaga cloning technology. Neat. More seriously, the early 2010’s club vibe of this song is exactly my jam, enough that I can forgive the “I’m in love with a horrible person” theme. (I think I forgive that theme a lot more from catchy party songs than heartfelt ballads I’m actually supposed to feel for.) Hell, I even like the creepy chanting! Sure, it’s a little cheesy, but cheese is always a good ingredient when used in moderation.

(How many songs are we going to get this year, not just in Eurovision, about wanting to fuck devils? I mean, not that I don’t get it… mmm, Akuma Ichimatsu… um. Anyway.)

10 – Czech Republic – “Omaga” by Benny Cristo: And here we enter the top ten of a strong year, where I’d love to see any of them win! Benny, what is with that title. Why. Ah well, like I said earlier, I do like moderate amounts of cheese, and this song is more than fun enough to have earned itself a ridiculous lyric or two. It’s unique, I’ll give it that! The song is just so bouncy and fun that I manage to ignore how pushy the singer is. Another one I expect big things from the staging for.

9 – Lithuania – “Discoteque” by The Roop: Ignoring the current events that surely inspired the song, I do love the more generic “party song for introverts” read on it – if only you knew how many one-person dance parties I’d had in my own house. This song speaks to me deeply. I can’t even begin to call it a joke song; I think it’s doing exactly what it set out to do, and it’s doing it oh so well. God, those synths. Totally okay with dancing alone!

8 – Iceland – “10 Years” by Daði og Gagnamagnið: I want Daði Freyr to adopt me. I don’t even care that he’s younger than me. He’s just such an earnest, fun guy, and I love his 8-bit aesthetic! And come on, he submitted a song about how much he loves his wife! If I ever stop loving this song it’s because my heart shriveled and died. Love isn’t dead, it’s just in chiptune now. I will throw things if this doesn’t make it into the final, do you all have no souls, this is too damn cute

7 – Serbia – “Loco Loco” by Hurricane: Another group I am so excited to see return, because I adored “Hasta La Vista”. I don’t know if I like this one quite as much, but it’s still catchy as hell! I love trying to sing along with it despite not knowing a word of Serbian.

6 – Croatia – “Tick-Tock” by Albina: Another catchy-ass club song! What more can I say? I love how much of this stuff we got this year. I will absolutely be screaming “Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go!” Oh god that was cheesy… I’ve been working on this ranking for too long. Don’t know what else to say about this one, just that I adore it. Just barely missed the top 5.

Love:

5 – Malta – “Je Me Casse” by Destiny: This girl’s got pipes– not surprised to hear she won the Junior contest before! I get major “Toy” vibes from this song, and you all know just how much I adored that one. Aaa, those horns! Expecting big things from you, Destiny! We may have our winner!

4 – San Marino – “Adrenalina” by Senhit – As much of a soft spot I had for last year’s “Freaky”, I don’t think it was gonna make it into the final, unless Senhit had the blessing of the same angels who were looking out for Serhat in 2019. This one, though? San Marino tasted the final two years ago and they are never giving it up again! This song goes hard! Love the song, love the video’s aesthetic, I even kinda like Flo Rida’s rap, even though I’m still baffled by the idea that I have been regularly listening to a song featuring Flo Rida on purpose. I don’t know what he’s doing here but I’m glad he is. Please, please make it to the final, San Marino! You clearly want the hell out of it this year! Favorite club song in a year of amazing club songs.

3 – Finland – “Dark Side” by Blind Channel: After spending about five seconds disappointed that Finland wouldn’t be sending Pandora this year, I gave this song a shot, and was not expecting what it gave me. I feel like an angsty middle schooler again, and it is bliss. This is everything Hatari wanted to be, but unlike Hatari who just confused me, I absolutely love the hell out of this song. …some of those lyrics, though. “27 Club, headshot, we don’t wanna grow up”? Yikes. But as dark and questionable as it might be, I can’t help but get pumped when I hear it. Definitely my favorite rock song of the year – sorry, Italy!

2 – Denmark – “Øve os på hinanden” by Fyr & Flamme: I love you, 1983. I don’t care how dated it is when my entire soul consists of a disco ball. The song’s so damn cute! This is the one member of my top 5 that I’m most terrified of losing – I know it’s not popular, with everyone calling it dated, but my top 5 always has that dated song that I love the hell out of becauseit sounds so classic. The translated lyrics are adorable, too. Even if you guys flame out in the semi, you’ll live on in the disco in my heart.

Favorite:

1 – Ukraine – “Shum” by Go_A: Holy fucking shit. There’s something about the blending of traditional and electronic that gets me hyped – see KEiiNO – and this one does not disappoint. The last minute of this is the best minute of Eurovision this year, and god, the buildup! I don’t even know Ukrainian but I am trying my damnedest to get the lyrics down, phonetically, at least. You know that “dancing goths” meme video? That’s me whenever this song comes on, especially during that speed up. Love the hell out of it. Could Ukraine be on its way to another victory already? I sure hope so, because this song fucking rules. Definitely checking out the rest of the discography someday, if all of their songs are in this folktronica style then they’ve gotta be a treat to listen to. Go Ukraine!

Ideal Qualifiers (favorite of each semi in bold):

Semi 1

Australia

Azerbaijan

Croatia

Cyprus

Israel

Lithuania

Malta

Norway

Romania

Ukraine Semi 2:

Czech Republic

Denmark

Finland

Greece

Iceland

Latvia

Moldova

Poland

San Marino

Serbia

This is definitely not what's going to happen - there is no universe where Switzerland and Sweden don't make it - but it'll be interesting to compare the reality to my hopes.

Let's go, Eurovision 2021

[skzss]

Meeting

Member: Demon!Bang Chan x gender neutral!reader

Warnings: Eeeh, demons? Not really anything in there though

Genre: Slight thriller, slight horror

Word count: 3269

Description: Who’s that in the shadows? Hunting you quietly?

Author’s notes: Long time no see! Why? Because I’m bad at consistency :) Actually this was supposed to be posted Saturday but oops. Also this isn’t really thriller or horror but I don’t know what a genre is and I’m too afraid to ask. Cross posted from another blog I run :)

You tugged your jacket closer in a poor attempt to protect you from the midnight chill. Why are you out here so late anyways? You hadn’t planned on it at all yet here you were, wandering the empty streets with nothing more than your phone and a couple bucks hastily shoved into your pockets. You kicked a rock and watched it clatter away, the only sound besides your still beating heart.

He watches you with interest. Were you perhaps a runaway? Those were common enough in this hour, though usually they were seeking a place to sleep instead of continuing to wander around. You didn’t seem like a runaway though, at least not by the way you kept checking your phone as if waiting for something or someone. 

He chuckles, stepping down and visualizing a more acceptable appearance. He’s long since learned that humans are a tad too delicate for his true form. Burn up right there and then they do and while a good crunch is nice, crispy isn’t his preferred mode of consumption. He coughs lightly behind you.

You whip around, clutching your phone tightly. He steps forward with a lopsided smile, hands raised slightly. He seems normal enough though you swear you see something around him under the flickering streetlight. You rub your eyes and squint at him. “Hey,” he says, seemingly barely a whisper. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

“I-I don’t believe you! Who are you?!” How you managed to speak at all is beyond you but you had and now you wish you hadn’t. He still has that same smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, but it feels cold somehow. Calculating. He drops his hands into his pockets and continues to walk towards you. You should run, you can feel it in your bones, but you don’t. Rooted to the spot.

“That’s the million dollar question ain’t it? Tell you what, you get three guesses. Get it right and I’ll give you a prize. Sounds like a good deal right?” He laughs, finally standing face to face with you. Your eyes are wide, so wide that he can see his true form reflected in them. And you’re trembling, fear snaking out of your skin like smoke. While a tiny bit disappointed that he’s not going to eat anger today, he’s never turned down a good tasting fear and by the look of it you might as well be a delicacy.

“Let me g-go, please.” You clutch your phone close to your chest, breathing heavy. Cold sweat breaks out on your skin, chilling you even further. He tsks, sighing.

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

You swallow, trying to gather the last of your scattered wits. He’s clearly not human but... there’s so many mythical creatures and beings out there. How are you supposed to know? Think, (Name), think. It’s the dead of night, no one else is around. What do they call this? The witching hour? But witches aren’t usually this menacing right? What else roams the night?

“Vampire?” You cautiously say, cowering when he chuckles.

“Unfortunately not. Two more guesses.” He squeezes whatever’s in his hand and you feel something wrap around you, so cold it burns through your clothes. Okay, okay what else. What else, what else, what else? You don’t know, you can’t think like this. You’re near a cemetery... maybe a ghost? No, they’re usually way more docile. And less... whole human looking. But a branch off of ghosts would be...

“A ghoul.” You know it’s wrong as soon as it comes out, before he even gives you a mockingly disappointed look. He can’t be a ghoul, ghouls don’t speak idiot. 

“Last chance love, try to think with that little brain of yours mm? I’ll even give you a little hint.” He shimmers before your eyes and you catch sight of... many eyes. Too many eyes and a flickering of limbs and huge spread wings. You know what he is. Fallen angel might be one term but... somehow you suspect it’s more sinister than that. He’s grinning already, the look a bit too stretched for his human features.

“Demon,” you whisper.

“Winner winner what’s for dinner!” He laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting... something? Maybe a tearing sensation or burning or anything that’s not... nothing. You peek your eyes open again just to see his still delighted face. “Honestly you kids are so fun to play with. A promise is a promise, what kind of reward do you want?”

... Okay back up. What? Weren’t you going to get eaten or something? He snickers at the look on your face, disbelief and confusion oozing out of you thick like blood. “You know you’re out awful late, shouldn’t you be home? Didn’t your parents teach you it’s dangerous? There could be serial killers out here.”

Your brain must be short circuiting. Are you hearing him correctly? “Y-you’re not going to eat me?”

“Oh good heavens no! Did I scare you? Oh jeez, I guess I did it again. You humans are all so fragile, I always forget about that.” He hums, tapping his cheek. “Ah, but you sure had some delicious auras! Is it auras these days? They used to call it something else. Hm... Oh I can’t remember, it’s been too long for the ol’ noggin.”

“T-then what was the thing? In your hand and the- the cold?” You shiver, arms coming up to clutch yourself.

“Huh? Oh that. Well this little thing,” he says with a shake of his hand and you swear on god that you heard a rattling, “Was to catch whatever was lurking on your shoulder. Nasty business that is. And as for feeling cold, I didn’t do anything.” He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets again. “All I did was stall you long enough so I could eat up whatever was bothering you. Speaking of, what is bothering you huh? It was real tasty so it’s gotta be bad.”

You give up trying to understand. “It’s my roommate. We’re having a fight.”

“Aww, that can’t be fun. I could do something about it if you want. Y’know, reward and all that.” He nods his head in the direction you came from.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I can deal with it. I should probably sell my soul for something a lot better than fixing my stupid little problem.” You laugh weakly, shoulders slumping.

“Awww, alright. Guess I’ll eat your soul another day then. Oh shoot, look at the time. I’ve gotta go but hey, here’s this.” He holds out what seems to be a business card of some sort, a strange foil print design on it. “I gotta go but give me a call if you need that favor sometime yeah? Better try and do it before next week, thing’s are happenin’ fast.” You take the card, absolutely confused. But before you can ask anything more, he gives you a wink and then sinks into the floor like it’s nothing.

You stare down at the spot for a long while before turning the card in your hand. Scrawled on the back in messy writing is a short note: add one drop of blood to summon your local demon. You tuck it away slowly.

Maybe you should just go home. This is probably some weird fever dream and you just need to chill with maybe a glass or two of wine. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

You tugged your jacket closer in a poor attempt to protect you from the midnight chill. Why are you out here so late anyways? You hadn’t planned on it at all yet here you were, wandering the empty streets with nothing more than your phone and a couple bucks hastily shoved into your pockets. You kicked a rock and watched it clatter away, the only sound besides your still beating heart.

He watches you with interest. Were you perhaps a runaway? Those were common enough in this hour, though usually they were seeking a place to sleep instead of continuing to wander around. You didn’t seem like a runaway though, at least not by the way you kept checking your phone as if waiting for something or someone. 

He chuckles, stepping down and visualizing a more acceptable appearance. He’s long since learned that humans are a tad too delicate for his true form. Burn up right there and then they do and while a good crunch is nice, crispy isn’t his preferred mode of consumption. He coughs lightly behind you.

You whip around, clutching your phone tightly. He steps forward with a lopsided smile, hands raised slightly. He seems normal enough though you swear you see something around him under the flickering streetlight. You rub your eyes and squint at him. “Hey,” he says, seemingly barely a whisper. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

“I-I don’t believe you! Who are you?!” How you managed to speak at all is beyond you but you had and now you wish you hadn’t. He still has that same smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, but it feels cold somehow. Calculating. He drops his hands into his pockets and continues to walk towards you. You should run, you can feel it in your bones, but you don’t. Rooted to the spot.

“That’s the million dollar question ain’t it? Tell you what, you get three guesses. Get it right and I’ll give you a prize. Sounds like a good deal right?” He laughs, finally standing face to face with you. Your eyes are wide, so wide that he can see his true form reflected in them. And you’re trembling, fear snaking out of your skin like smoke. While a tiny bit disappointed that he’s not going to eat anger today, he’s never turned down a good tasting fear and by the look of it you might as well be a delicacy.

“Let me g-go, please.” You clutch your phone close to your chest, breathing heavy. Cold sweat breaks out on your skin, chilling you even further. He tsks, sighing.

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

You swallow, trying to gather the last of your scattered wits. He’s clearly not human but... there’s so many mythical creatures and beings out there. How are you supposed to know? Think, (Name), think. It’s the dead of night, no one else is around. What do they call this? The witching hour? But witches aren’t usually this menacing right? What else roams the night?

“Vampire?” You cautiously say, cowering when he chuckles.

“Unfortunately not. Two more guesses.” He squeezes whatever’s in his hand and you feel something wrap around you, so cold it burns through your clothes. Okay, okay what else. What else, what else, what else? You don’t know, you can’t think like this. You’re near a cemetery... maybe a ghost? No, they’re usually way more docile. And less... whole human looking. But a branch off of ghosts would be...

“A ghoul.” You know it’s wrong as soon as it comes out, before he even gives you a mockingly disappointed look. He can’t be a ghoul, ghouls don’t speak idiot. 

“Last chance love, try to think with that little brain of yours mm? I’ll even give you a little hint.” He shimmers before your eyes and you catch sight of... many eyes. Too many eyes and a flickering of limbs and huge spread wings. You know what he is. Fallen angel might be one term but... somehow you suspect it’s more sinister than that. He’s grinning already, the look a bit too stretched for his human features.

“Demon,” you whisper.

“Winner winner what’s for dinner!” He laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting... something? Maybe a tearing sensation or burning or anything that’s not... nothing. You peek your eyes open again just to see his still delighted face. “Honestly you kids are so fun to play with. A promise is a promise, what kind of reward do you want?”

... Okay back up. What? Weren’t you going to get eaten or something? He snickers at the look on your face, disbelief and confusion oozing out of you thick like blood. “You know you’re out awful late, shouldn’t you be home? Didn’t your parents teach you it’s dangerous? There could be serial killers out here.”

Your brain must be short circuiting. Are you hearing him correctly? “Y-you’re not going to eat me?”

“Oh good heavens no! Did I scare you? Oh jeez, I guess I did it again. You humans are all so fragile, I always forget about that.” He hums, tapping his cheek. “Ah, but you sure had some delicious auras! Is it auras these days? They used to call it something else. Hm... Oh I can’t remember, it’s been too long for the ol’ noggin.”

“T-then what was the thing? In your hand and the- the cold?” You shiver, arms coming up to clutch yourself.

“Huh? Oh that. Well this little thing,” he says with a shake of his hand and you swear on god that you heard a rattling, “Was to catch whatever was lurking on your shoulder. Nasty business that is. And as for feeling cold, I didn’t do anything.” He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets again. “All I did was stall you long enough so I could eat up whatever was bothering you. Speaking of, what is bothering you huh? It was real tasty so it’s gotta be bad.”

You give up trying to understand. “It’s my roommate. We’re having a fight.”

“Aww, that can’t be fun. I could do something about it if you want. Y’know, reward and all that.” He nods his head in the direction you came from.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I can deal with it. I should probably sell my soul for something a lot better than fixing my stupid little problem.” You laugh weakly, shoulders slumping.

“Awww, alright. Guess I’ll eat your soul another day then. Oh shoot, look at the time. I’ve gotta go but hey, here’s this.” He holds out what seems to be a business card of some sort, a strange foil print design on it. “I gotta go but give me a call if you need that favor sometime yeah? Better try and do it before next week, thing’s are happenin’ fast.” You take the card, absolutely confused. But before you can ask anything more, he gives you a wink and then sinks into the floor like it’s nothing.

You stare down at the spot for a long while before turning the card in your hand. Scrawled on the back in messy writing is a short note: add one drop of blood to summon your local demon. You tuck it away slowly.

Maybe you should just go home. This is probably some weird fever dream and you just need to chill with maybe a glass or two of wine. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

Chan laughs, watching you walk off. Maybe he’ll keep you around after he’s slaughtered most of humanity. Tormenting you slowly seems like it’d be fun...

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

The Stuff of Dreams

Ao3

Summary: Of all the ways to spend the morning of his day off, Remy really hadn’t thought he’d be dying on his kitchen table. But sometimes that’s just what happens when your roommate and crush of roughly two years kisses you on his way to work as if he’s been doing it every day of his life. Warnings: Repeated mentions of someone making/almost eating a toothpaste sandwich, sleep-deprivation, some minor self-deprecation, not actually unrequited love Pairing: Romantic creativisleep

    Remy watched as Roman hurried about the kitchen. A late night well wasted with a mix of Disney and action movies had led to him sleeping in an extra half an hour, and now he was rushing through his morning routine to make sure he wasn’t late for work. As he watched his roommate brush his teeth with Crofter’s and make a sandwich with toothpaste, Remy, personally, felt he had never picked a better day to call in ‘sick.’

    It didn’t help that Roman was clearly exhausted. He had been working a lot of late nights recently. Last night had been one of his earliest nights off in two weeks, and even then, he had been back around eight pm. The movie night had been Remy’s attempt to get him to relax and, hopefully, tire him out enough he slept in long enough Remy could call in ‘sick’ for him too. He needed the break.

    But in disabling his alarms, Remy had missed Roman’s secret one, and his plan to get Roman a proper day off had failed. Now, the exhausted dreamer stuck in a retail job he was not getting paid nearly enough for was going to go to work anyways, and he was going to do it running on all of four hours of sleep.

    That plan really worked out well.

    Roman zipped his lunchbox up with easily more force than he needed to use, still rushing as he shoved it in his bag alongside his keys, his phone, an egg, some gloves he definitely wouldn’t need halfway through May, his wallet, and a pinch of salt.

    “You sure you don’t want to just call in sick, hun?” Remy asked, Roman shaking his bag as if he was mixing the contents together. Given the salt and egg, Remy was starting to think Roman was trying to bake a cake in his bag. “You look like you could do with a nap. Or just a whole day spent catatonic.”

    Roman shook his head, finally pulling his bag over his shoulder, looking ready to head out. “I need the money. I’ll be fine.” He explained. Remy sighed and leaned on his hand as Roman hurried past him, towards the door.

    Before getting there, however, Roman back-tracked, coming back into the kitchen as he said, “Oops, almost forget.”

    “Forgot what, some sugar-”

    Remy’s snark died on his tongue when Roman came up beside him and, without thinking, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, leaned over and kissed him right on the forehead.

    “Have a good day, dear.” Roman murmured, not seeming to notice that Remy’s jaw had dropped or that he was now staring off at some far off point, completely unresponsive. He left, then, the sound of the door opening and closing just barely reaching Remy’s ears.

    It wasn’t until a solid fifteen minutes had passed that Remy finally reacted, and even then, all he did was scream. The screaming was quickly followed by his head dropping onto the table, where it rested as he looked searchingly at the plastic surface.

    Roman had kissed him.

    Roman. His roommate of two years. Crush of one year and 50 weeks. Absolute prettiest man to exist. Very possibly a shooting star personified. Had kissed him. On the forehead as he left for work. Like they were a married couple in an old black-and-white movie.

    That was it. Remy was going to die.

    What else was he going to do? It was obvious to him that Roman, tired and probably distracted in his thoughts, had kissed Remy on accident. Maybe he briefly thought Remy was someone else, Virgil or Patton or another one of his coworkers. Goodness knows Remy had listened to him talk about them all enough. Chances had it he liked at least one of them.

    The one person he definitely hadn’t been thinking about when he kissed Remy was, of course, Remy. Remy had come to terms with it a while ago that Roman was bright and big and beautiful. The whole world wasn’t just a stage but Roman’s stage and Roman was going to put on the best performance anyone had ever seen, Remy knew. Roman needed someone who was just as amazing and wonderful as he was.

    Remy was a coffee-guzzling IT tech who was going to die young, pretty, and alone. Him and Roman? In his dreams and his dreams alone.

    Except one of his dreams had just skipped off the sleepy-time screen and played out in real life, leaving Remy feeling completely shocked and a tad bit giddy. And even if he knew it was nothing more than an accident, a mistake made in a haze of sleep-deprivation on Roman’s part, it had still happened, and his heart had still fluttered, and his entire life had still just fallen to pieces because, really, was he ever going to do any better than that?

    Nope! He was not! The highest moment of his life would forever be when Roman accidentally kissed his forehead.

    Of course, that meant that the subsequent lowest moment of his life would be that night, when Roman got home and likely refused to talk to him for a week or so, because as amazing as that single mistake had been for Remy, it was likely just as embarrassing for Roman.

    For a moment, Remy wondered if the consequences were worth it. But then he thought back for a second to when Roman had kissed him, so quickly but still so gently, calling him ‘dear’ like he was the most important person in Roman’s life, and as he simultaneously melted and died some more, he decided that any consequence the world could throw at him would be worth it so long as he could treasure that moment forever.

    After all, things couldn’t get too bad from here, right?

    ~~

    Turns out, things could get really, really bad from here.

    Because Roman had been home for over an hour now (he had been sent home early at five pm, saying that his manager had deemed him a ‘hazard’ to supplies and others; given that a moment later he was telling Remy about how he almost actually ate his toothpaste sandwich for lunch, Remy was inclined to agree with his manager) and he hadn’t acknowledged the incident. Not once. There were no awkward glances at Remy or random apologies or general weird tension in the air. He was just acting like nothing had happened.

    And it was driving Remy insane.

    He thought living with it would be hard, but living as if it had never happened? 

Somehow a million times worse.

He had spent the entire day preparing for every possible scenario, from Roman being too ashamed to admit it happened to Roman being angry that he had been stupid enough to do something so foolish. But ignorance? Acting as if nothing had happened? He had no plans for that.

He managed to stand it, at first, figured that this was overall better. After all, Remy didn’t want to acknowledge it, so if Roman didn’t want to either… well, that all worked out, didn’t it?

Except two hours passed, Remy couldn’t stop looking at Roman and thinking about that moment, and it was becoming very quickly apparent to him that this was NOT working out.

It finally came to a head right where it had begun: the kitchen. Remy was leaning against the counter, distractedly sipping a coffee as Roman slapped together a sandwich (a proper one, this time) for dinner. He was watching Roman (which was nothing new), but now, every time that Roman would glance over at him he glanced down, focusing on his coffee instead.

Eventually, Roman cleared his throat. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”

Remy glanced up from his coffee, raising an eyebrow. “Something you want me to share with the class?”

Roman shrugged. “You’ve just been acting a little odd, that’s all.”

Remy couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “I’ve been acting odd?”

“Yeah, you keep looking away from me- what, did I say something? Is there something on my face?” Roman asked, hands quickly brushing over his cheeks as if he might find a bug on it or something.

Remy just stared at him in bewilderment. “Oh, sugar, you can’t be serious.”

Roman just stared back at him in confusion, however, and Remy sighed. “I can’t believe you’re making me say this…” He bemoaned before waving his free hand at Roman and continuing, deadpan, “You kissed me.”

“...What?!”

Remy nodded. “Yep! You kissed me! This morning! Right before you left for work! Right smack dab in the middle of my forehead like we’re some sorta of nineteen-twenties domestic couple!” He said, punctuating every statement with a gesture of his hand. “So, y’know. There’s that ‘odd’ behavior.”

“Oh.” Roman said, suddenly much more calm than he had been a moment ago. “Just on the forehead?”

“Well I wouldn’t say ‘just,’ but on the forehead, yes.”

Roman shrugged and turned back to his sandwich. “My apologies, then. Mustn’t have been thinking.”

“Mustn’t have been-” Remy’s eyes widened. “That’s it? That’s your reaction?!”

“Well, yeah.” Roman said, once more looking at Remy. “It was just a minor slip of the sleep-deprived mind. If I seriously overstepped your boundaries, though, please, Remy, know that I do mean it when I say I’m sorry-”

“No, that’s not-” Remy stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “I need you to treat this as importantly as it is.”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “But it’s not important…?”

“Actually, it kinda is.” Remy snapped, though he sighed immediately afterwards, regretting the tone he knew just came from the stress. “To me, anyways.”

Roman frowned, confusion replaced with concern. “Why?”

Remy watched Roman’s face for a moment before he finally shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. “Because you are beautiful and wonderful and amazing and, honest to god, perfect.” He admitted, still refusing to look at Roman. Part of him felt stupid for saying all of it, for giving up the ruse he had been pulling for almost two years, but at this point he didn’t know what else to say to make Roman understand why the kiss was so stupidly important. “And I have had a crush on you for too long for you to just- just do that and act like it’s nothing. So, yeah. It’s kinda important to me.”

For a minute, he was met by nothing more than dead silence, and every second it dragged on made him feel worse and worse. He was beginning to contemplate the benefits of just running away, right then, and never coming back, when Roman finally said, so quietly Remy almost missed it, “You have a crush on me?”

Remy looked back at Roman at that, finding his roommate wide-eyed, expression shocked. He held his gaze for a moment before he looked to the side. “Yeah. For a while. If it makes you feel better, I never meant to let you know, but… yeah.”

Once more, the silence stretched, Remy’s mind wandering to how far he could get from the apartment in a minute when Roman broke it again, this time with, “Do you know why I kissed you this morning?”

Remy half-shrugged, still looking away. “You were tired. Maybe thinking about your own crush. Virgil, maybe? I don’t know.”

“I was thinking of my own crush, yes.” Roman confirmed, sounding closer, somehow. “I do that, sometimes, when I’m bored or tired. Think about him. You know what I think about, when I’m bored or tired and thinking about my crush?”

Remy bit the inside of his mouth, feeling more than a little hurt by everything Roman was saying. Why did he have to hear this? Was this Roman’s response to Remy’s stupid crush? Cruelty? “What?”

“I think about slow dancing with him at two pm, and distracting him when it’s his nights to make dinner with smooches, and listening to his heartbeat while I fall asleep holding him, and kissing him goodbye every morning before I go to work.” Roman said, slowly, drawing out the last one extra long and making Remy feel extra worse. He was definitely closer now, and Remy was certain if he looked over he’d find Roman right beside him.

“You must’ve been really out of it, then, to get me mixed up with someone you think about so much.” Remy said, subdued, crossing his arms and wishing for all the world he could just disappear.

“Remy, look at me.” Remy didn’t, finding he was relatively sure he preferred the sight of their cluttered table to whatever anger or disappointment or other negative emotion he’d find in Roman’s expression. His choice, however, proved to be pointless, Roman’s hand coming up to cup Remy’s cheek and forcing him to look at Roman.

To his surprise, Remy found that Roman didn’t look angry or disappointed. Instead, he was smiling, just a little, mouth quirked up a bit and his eyes bright and his expression almost what Remy would’ve called fond. “I didn’t mix anyone up.” He said, softly, gently, in a tone that would have made Remy melt in any other circumstances. “You can’t mix one person up.”

“You lost me.” Remy said, which wasn’t entirely true, because he was fairly certain he knew that Roman was trying to say, but the problem was that that was impossible, absurd, the stuff of dreams and dreams alone-

“You’re my crush, Remy.” Roman said, still softly, still gently, his smile growing a fraction as he did so. “And in almost two years I don’t think I’ve gone a single morning without thinking about how lovely it would be to kiss you goodbye like it was the most commonplace thing in the world.”

Remy just blinked at Roman at first, not having immediately processed what he said. Once it sunk in, however, he could feel his cheeks colouring as he let out a little gasp, hurt and confusion being quickly replaced by shock and joy.

“You sap.” He gasped, and before Roman could so much as widen his smile Remy’s arms were wrapped around the back of his neck and pulling Roman in for a proper kiss.

“You’re going to skip work tomorrow.” Remy said when they finally pulled apart, breathlessly, leaning his forehead against Roman’s and still holding him close. “I don’t care if you say you’ve got the plague or if you quit, but you’re staying home tomorrow and we’re going to sleep until two pm and we’re only going to wake up then so that you can show me how to slow dance like a proper domestic couple.”

Roman smiled, and they were close enough that Remy couldn’t just see it but feel it against his lips. “Only if you promise that we’ll be sleeping together.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Remy responded easily, though he pulled back a smidge when Roman tried to kiss him again. “But I’m taking your pj pants. The fuzzy ones with crowns on them. And if you think I’m not stealing your biggest shirt then, really, lover boy, you don’t know me.”

“For the prettiest boy in the world? You can have my whole wardrobe.” Roman answered. “Now can I have another kiss?”

“For the prettiest boy in the whole damn universe?” Remy said, raising an eyebrow as he smirked, tugging Roman closer to him and whispering against his lips before he fulfilled his request, “You can have a million.”