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bvtbxtch · 10 months ago

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Stephen | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

“You’re my object of affection, my drug of choice, my sick obsession.”

Summary: 5 years since graduation, 5 years since you ran your way through Hawkins High, leaving boys in your wake…. Except one. Steve Harrington, apparent untouchable due to his infatuation with Nancy Wheeler. What happens when you see a worn out, former heartthrob with his fizzled high school flame stuck to him? Unhappy, feeling unloved and in a bind, you thought Steve could be the conquest of the night… or so you thought.

Pairings: King!Steve (Kinda) x Toxic!Fem!Reader

Content warnings: smut, angst, fluff. Non canon au. Steve and Nancy are together from Steve’s senior year to the time of the story. Cheating (emotional and sexual), p in v sex, oral (m and f receiving), Reader defs isn’t a girls girl but I couldn’t help it, alcohol consumption, one night stands, stealing, public sex. This is definitely 18+ MDNI!!!!!

WC:

A/N: Hi babies I have returned with something a little bit different from my little hiatus and am super excited to try something new! This fic is inspired by the song Stephen by Ke$sha! I hope you like it!! I love you all!

The pounding in your head mirrored that in your heart as you remembered the burn of alcohol down your throat from last night. Your makeup had been smudged off onto your pillow, some still remaining on your swollen, hungover face. The day after drinking anxiety had reared its head, but a wave of nerves hit you like a ton of bricks when a vision of you writing your phone number on Steve Harrington’s arm - more or less in front of his girlfriend - faded into view.

You cupped your hands over your face and your shoulders shook. You couldn’t help but giggle at the picture of her porcelain face twisted into a bout of jealous rage. You could fully admit to yourself that you lived on the side of delusion, but there was a piece of you that wholeheartedly believed that your former king of Hawkins High would call you.

And yet, you sat and stared at the phone perched silently on your nightstand while you nursed your hangover all day. The bright afternoon light evolved into an evening glow and still you hadn’t heard the shrill ring. You put on records and VCRs. You flicked through magazines and tried to pick up the new Danielle Steele book you had pocketed from the bookstore on main street. But the soundtrack of your thoughts was the hope that the telephone would ring and that you would hear a smooth baritone voice calling you. You fought to keep your eyes open while the blue light of your TV laughed back at you. You finally surrendered to the sleep your body had been pleading for, the blur of the night previous finally making itself clear in your dreams…

The music at the dive bar had been blaring. You were on your upteenth drink courtesy of Eddie Munson. The first time you had come to the Hideout it was your senior year, freshly 18 and ready for an adventure. You had snuck in with a fake ID and eyed up the curly haired 21 year old behind the bar. His eyes had been glued on you since you had walked in. Well, you worked your charm and lo and behold, Eddie had you bent over the chipped porcelain sink in the staff bathroom. After the orgasm you gave him, he knew he would owe you for a while - and free drinks you received ever since. You flashed him a wink as you downed the third tequila shot of the night. Your plump glossed lips twisted into a smile after looking at the winces of Heather and Chrissy. The three of you had moved a half an hour outside of Hawkins to the bigg(er) city of Indianapolis, but you felt the need to parade your luxurious city life to the hasbeen jocks of Hawkins High that frequent the only legit bar in town. You couldn't count on both hands the number of guys you had toyed with that now loitered around the musty pool tables and bar tops. By the time you graduated and got a job, you thought of yourself as a big fish in a small pond. You were ready to break big city hearts and leave the lame Hawkins lifers behind. That couldn’t be you. But there was always one that got away - one that you hated to admit was one guy that scared you, solely because you would let him domesticate you if he asked.

The girls beside you let out a small woo as another shot was sent your way, this time courtesy of Jason Carver who had fastened himself a seat on the other side of the bar with yet another Hawkins Hasbeen, Andy Robinson. You raised the small glass to your lips with a devilish smile across the bar. Jason still had his abs like he did when you graduated. Owning the small weightlifting gym on the outskirts of town had its perks, you guess. You looked at Chrissy and rolled your eyes with a snicker as the burning liquid slid down your throat. At least if you didn’t get lucky with someone else tonight, he would be there and more than willing to give you a half assed orgasm in the back seat of his beat up jeep cherokee - better than ending the night alone in your books (and probably his). You scrunched your eyes closed and a flash of stars lit up the darkness behind your eyes. You opened them to blurry vision, the feelings in your fingers were being replaced with warm fuzz. You knew that if you were to get off your barstool your knees would raise hell. You let out a euphoric giggle. This is just what you needed.

You heard a small “well, well, well,” slur out of Heather’s bowed lips as two new figures emerged through the metallic doors of the bar. “Surprised to see Harrington out here. Isn’t his past his bedtime? You know I remember…” Heather’s voice faded away as you honed in your focus to the pair at the door.

Nancy Wheeler - her obnoxious perm and housewife dresses… You couldn’t help but hate her. She was everything you weren’t: safe, boring, square. Her manicured hand rested in a much larger hand, and that hand was attached to toned arms in a light cotton crewneck. You couldn’t help but feel the saliva pool in your mouth. Nancy looked up to her beautiful brunette with her stupid doe eyes and he flashed her a small cautious smile. They stuck out like sore thumbs. She didn’t belong here, but Steve Harrington was too good looking to be in this shitty bar. It’s like your friends could read your mind. Chrissy pinched you in the side and Heather let out a childish giggle.

“Don’t even think about it, Y/L/N. Nancy’s had him on lock since, like, junior year.” You were well aware.

“Don’t even worry about it. I’ll be smart…” You challenged. Your friends were very aware of your determination. If you wanted something, you got it. And Steve Harrington was on the menu. You watched the handsome couple stalk to one of the tall bar tables across the room from your seats. Steve’s eyes locked with yours and you licked your lips. No matter how hard he tried, like a magnet, your gaze kept him locked on you. The man felt a tug on his arm as Nancy shuffled him to the table. As their conversation lulled on, you couldn’t help but attract Steve’s eyes again. You waved your arm to Eddie for another shot.

“I think it’s time to have some water, doll” the mophead behind cooed. For the first time tonight you ruffled through your purse to find a folded 20 dollar bill. You placed it in the hem of your bustier and flashed your sultry eyes at Eddie.

“You want a tip or not, Munson? I think I have already shown you how much I appreciate your customer service.” The man’s cheeks grew flushed as he grabbed the bill out of your chest with nimble fingers - hoping that his hands didn’t slip. Another tiny glass full of liquid in front of you. Before you put it to your mouth, you raised your eyes to Steve, his mouth slightly agape, having seen the performance you had just put on at the bar. You raised the shot glass to him in salute, he blushed and turned his eyes back to his girlfriend. God, his fucking girlfriend.

He watched your neck tilt back as the burning liquid slid down your throat. He had to stifle a small chuckle at your scrunched face at the reaction to your shot. Steve always thought you were effortlessly beautiful. But you were dangerous. A junior when he was a senior, he knew about the boys you had left in your wake. He made sure to stay away, betrothed to the girl sitting across from him at the bar. He sighed a choked breath of relief when Nancy coldly told him she was going to the bathroom then to get them some drinks. He let his shoulders shrug and rearranged his pants, which were a bit tighter than when he walked in. He wasn’t left in his silence for long. His shoulders shifted back up to his ears and his cheeks grew hot when he saw you saunter from the bar in his direction. His heart was in his throat and beating harder than ever. What the fuck was happening to him?

Your moment to strike happened when you saw Nancy’s pleated dress slither out of her barstool and towards the bathroom. You mirrored her and pushed your wobbling legs one in front of the other. You carried two glasses of brown liquor with you. Your face was calm and cool, but your hands were shaking as you crossed the dingy hardwood over to a beautiful head of hair.

“So, what is King Steve doing in a place like this?” You didn’t dare take Nancy Wheeler’s spot. You wouldn’t want to be compared to the likes. You leaned your torso over the table, edging closer to the man than you would be on a stool. You preferred it that way, and you had a sense that Steve does as well.

“I could ask the same thing to you, Y/N.” He mumbled, but you can tell his confidence was growing. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Who told you I’m a nice girl?” You purred. “You looked thirsty over here, and I thought, since you’re in my domain, I could show you some hospitality.” You slid the drink over to him with a black painted fingernail and picked yours up and stirred it suggestively.

“Bottoms up then.” Steve grabbed the glass and clinked it to yours. Your heart stopped as you watched the beautiful man’s neck strain upwards to take his drink in one gulp. It took all of the drunken strength you could muster to not sink your teeth into his strong neck. His Adams apple bobbed in strain and the liquor made his cheeks bloom a darker red than they already were. You sipped half of your drink, desperate to relieve some of the tension running through your body, but you felt like you would completely crumble if you downed it all in one go.

“So.. you and Nancy… That’s pretty… serious?” You couldn’t help the venom that seethed out of your lips. Steve cleared his throat and stared into the bottom of his empty glass. He shrugged his shoulders. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Trouble in paradise, King Steve?” you jest.

“Nah, It’s just… it's been a few years I guess.” Steve’s voice was cold. You sighed audibly. The alcohol and the pure lust was getting to you, and you could barely contain yourself.

“Too bad… the word on the street is I could treat you much better.” You could barely bring yourself to look into his eyes, but when you did, you were met with an intense stare. You couldn’t read all of the emotions behind his eyes, but it made your core quiver.

“Word on the street is you know how to treat a lot of people.” Steve scoffed. His defenses were up. Why in the world were you coming to him now? He had always stolen looks at you. He knew how magnetic you were. He wished he knew you in high school. Maybe then he wouldn’t be stuck working at his dad’s law firm. With a girlfriend who he felt stuck with; no sense of adventure, no true love in sight. But then you sauntered up to him and made his heart believe in life again.

“Well you aren’t wrong. But I only have eyes for one right now.” You winked.

“Wish we could have had this conversation three years ago…” Steve whispered, hoping that you didn’t hear him. You were delectable, and laid out in front of him; and he knows that if he were to have a few more drinks, he would have forgotten all about the girl that he had come here with - his… girlfriend. Fuck, his girlfriend. You flashed him a pout and a disappointed smile. You had him eating right out of your hand.

“Well… Let me give you this.” You pulled out a sharpie from your purse and pulled his wrist towards you, pulling up his sweater sleeve. You began to scribble your phone number onto his olive skin. You had to breathe slowly to keep yourself from shaking. “Call me tomorrow if you want to pretend it was three years ago.” A look of need flashed on your face. You had been absorbed by Steve Harrington. It had felt like all of the bar had disappeared and it was just the two of you. Steve could feel that too, he had you right where he wanted you, totally absorbed and infatuated. You couldn’t help but think of Nancy and it made you shiver. You couldn’t have her invade this. Fuck his stupid girlfriend. You were determined to make Steve Harrington yours.

The two of you stayed transfixed on each other for a moment more. Steve fixed his gaze between your face and the new ink that you had given him. He wanted to nurture it like it was a real tattoo. You couldn’t help but take mental pictures of Steve’s face, so you could imagine whatever meathead you ended up taking home that night was him. You wondered what he would look like underneath you, gasping and panting for breath. What his skin would taste like: sweaty and sweet and musky. You wished that you could take his fingers and put them in your mouth right now. You were thirsty, parched for his lips on yours. You wanted to show him what you looked like underneath him, you wanted him to hear you moan his name. You wanted to fuck his brains out, the way you knew Nancy “White Bread” Wheeler doesn’t. You were connected, and it scared you because for the first time in forever, you wanted to fuck, but you also wanted him to hold you, to tell you that you’re beautiful. You wanted him to hold your hand and buy you flowers and take you out. You wanted to cook for him and play with his hair and rub his back.

You were torn from your world when you heard a small ‘ahem’ from behind you. Steve quickly adjusted his posture and pulled his sweater sleeve over his new love mark. You stood up straight and turned to see the frizzy haired brunette tapping her pleather pumps at you… tacky, you thought.

“Can I help you with something?” She peeped. “Or is there another reason why you’re over here talking to my boyfriend?” Nancy’s angry eyes flicked between the two of you and her brow was furrowed. Your gaze had hardened and you couldn’t help but chuckle; she looked like a toddler and an old woman at the same time. Steve’s cheeks remained a rosy pink. He had found whatever was on the floor oddly interesting. You took a step towards the girl.

“Nothing at all, darling. Just thought I would say hello to an old friend and grab him a drink.” You breezed past her, knocking her lightly on the shoulder.

“See you around, Harrington.” You sang behind you. You couldn’t see her anymore, but you assumed that if looks could kill, you would be on the floor. You strutted back to Chrissy and Heather and slumped back to your stool. You exchanged mischievous glances with the girls, and then turned proudly to Eddie, who was flashing you a disappointed look. A victory for you, a loss for Nancy Wheeler - or at least you hoped.

Steve continued to stare at the ground while Nancy eyed him suspiciously.

“What the hell did she want, Steve?” she pried. Steve huffed before looking up at her. Her eyes didn’t glimmer at him like yours did.

“She just came over to say hi…. I hadn’t seen her since Senior year.”

“Did you even talk to her senior year? You know the reputation she has…I don’t like her, and I don’t like her talking to you, Steve,” within the past year, he had thought of Nancy more like his mother than his girlfriend. He had been growing more and more confused lately. The love seemed to be lacking and he had caught himself wondering what his life would be like if he left it all behind, left her behind and started over. You made the idea of abandonment way more appealing. He felt himself growing unreasonably angry with the blue eyed girl sitting across the bar from her. He needed to defend you. You were the only thing on his mind.

“Who the hell cares, Nancy? What do you think that she was going to do? Fucking make out with me in front of everyone? She asked how we were doing. She asked about you and me. Chill out and have fun or let’s just get out of here.” He scowled. Nancy was taken aback and slid a chilled PBR across the table to Steve with a scoff. She drank her vodka cran in silence. Steve couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to your figure laughing and smiling with your friends. He wanted to laugh with you. He downed his drink, took Nancy's hand silently and pulled her towards the door. She had a permanent frown on her face as Steve pushed her through the door. Before his body disappeared from the door, he took one more glimpse at you. Your eyes locked one last time and you sent him a wave as he disappeared into the Hawkins night. If he couldn’t have you, he’d fuck Nancy until he forgot about you.

It was 3 am and your body literally couldn’t peel itself off of the plastic bar stool. Chrissy and Heather had gone home with Jason and Andy - your appetite spoiled when you watched the only person you wanted to be with leave the bar without you. You heard the stomps of old reeboks and the jingle of keys come up behind you. The lights had suddenly gone out.

“Come on, doll. Let’s get you home okay?” Eddie pulled you off the stool and wrapped your arm around his shoulder.

“Can you stay over, Teddie?”

“Not this time, honey. You need sleep and you need water. You aren’t thinking straight.”

You pouted quietly, but you decided to finally take no for an answer. The thought of sinking into your bed and hoping - praying - that Steve would call you.

Steve had pulled Nancy into his bedroom of his parents’ empty house. He feverishly pulled at Nancy’s belt as she fumbled with the zipper at the side of her dress. Steve’s mouth didn’t leave her skin, and his eyes remained shut, save to navigate himself around his house. A flurry of clothes, soft sighs and sweaty skin. Steve had only had two drinks, but he felt drunk thinking of your encounter at the bar. He pressed his eyes closed as he mouthed at Nancy’s chest, wishing it was yours. He slid down her torso pondering what sounds you would make if he was kissing towards your sweet center. He pulled Nancy’s panties to the side and swiped his tongue along her heat, thinking about how delicious you would taste. He then flipped Nancy over on all fours and slid into her with a grunt. He couldn’t stand to look at her, wishing her body was yours, wishing her sounds were yours, wanting to hold you in his arms after. Steve finished quickly, his perversions towards you spurring him on.

The couple collapsed into Steve’s king bed. Nancy traced small circles on his chest while they caught their breath. Steve felt satiated, his hunger for you ebbed, for now.

“Steve! What’s on your arm?” Nancy yelped. Steve’s heart dropped into his chest. He frantically turned himself away from his girlfriend. Nancy’s small hands grabbed Steve’s shoulder to turn him back to her. Her nails drug down to the tattoo you had given her boyfriend and her face began to heat up.

“What the fuck is this, Steve?”

Taglist: @eddies-acousticguitar @mmunson86 @sadbitchfangirl @hideoutside @anxiousobserver @ali-r3n @brinleighsstuff @@filth-fiction-archive @vintagehellfire @kirstinjayjay @poofyloofy @sluggzillaa @aol19 @dark-angel-is-back @keikoraven @emxxblog @adrenalineeerevolver @crybabyddl @lovemegood @cherry-pop3547 @cozmiccass @leelei1980 @trixyvixx @skylar-ish-meh @harrysgothicbitch @emsgoodthinkin @micheledawn1975 @wendyfaw @thehuntresswolf @darknesseddiem If you would like to be included in my taglist, please fill out this form and consider following!

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undobutton · 1 year ago

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warnings: swearing. barely proofread. spelling mistakes.

genre: fluff? head-canon

characters: Hobie Brown my beloved

synopsis: Hobie can cook!! it's not debatable!!

a/n: finally i talk about hobie my dearest. I've been waiting for so long to begin rambling about him expect more alongside the reveal of my oc! who is not a spider-varient but rather, hobies "friend" named Bunny. anyways enjoy!

Hobie can cook. He cooks very well!

the thing is he knows like four recipes and over time he's developed them into his own creations.

so when you come over, lead by your nose and hug him from behind, looking at the... stuff he's making and ask "what's all this, Bee?"

he shrugs, "fish 'nd chips. Maybe."

now, your eyebrow is sky high but you trust Hobie so after a while when you finally sit down to eat and you try the 'fish 'nd chips'... its so fuckin good

like your new favorite food. Like Hobie should open a restaurant-

after a while you bring him recipes to try and you both bounce off each other, eating as you go and singing along to the music playing. it's lovely! till you realize that the two of you can't possibly eat all the stuff you made. so ofc yall go out and share the food with any and everyone. bringing it to shelters and to any homeless people you see.

soon enough the two of you have a "perhaps cookbook" where theres a mix of handwritten recipes, it's more of the essence of the recipe than anything

"add some salt or paprika. if you want"

"maybe some butter now"

"what if we added sugar?"

"bake it for half an hour.. or longer if you want to fuckin burn it"

that last one was after hobie convinced you to take a nap while the 'most likely mac 'n cheese' was in the oven. the house nearly burned down.

overall, HOBIE CAN COOK AND HE COOKS WELL. i will climb up this hill and stay here till i get cold and go home.

#hobie brown #hobie brown fluff #hobie x reader #hobie x you #atsv hobie #hobie x y/n #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #atsv x reader #miles x reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader

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starboy-acer · 6 months ago

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RIPTIDE SHIP NAMES THAT I USE!

Note: I don't ship Niklaus with any of them, but I really really like the names, so I keep them. if the ship name is pink then that means i actually ship it/love it amen (aka it prolly is a rarepair developed by a mutual that i fell in love with). some of these i may not ship and plenty of these can be taken as platonic only! these are just ship/duo names for characters (using & means i see it only as platonic/familial/a duo/trio name with no romance elements at all.

ALBATRIO

fish and chips: chip/gillion [otp]

navyseal: jay/gillion

mockingjay: chip/jay

poly pirates: chip/jay/gillon [otp pt 2]

CHIP

sailorsong/scarlet captains: chip/jazz

fools gold/bargaining chip: chip & niklaus

drunken sailors: chip/caspian

chiptune: chip/queen

stoneflame: chip/igneous

treble theft: chip/jazz/queen [liam someguy thank u for this]

JAY FERIN

women in STEM: jay/ensa

pistolwhip: jay/lizzie

sharpshooter: jay/kira

bloodshot: jay/anastasia

sheshells: jay/edyn

artemis anchor: jay/aslana

jay's harem/let's go lesbians: jay/her many girlfriends (ever changing, always evolving)

high noon: jay & ichabod

GILLION TIDESTRIDER

swordfish: gillion/caspian [only person other than chip i can see him w]

dealbreaker: gillion & niklaus

sea shanty: gillion/queen

the moist ones: gillion & felipe & goobleck

buddycops: DOPPLE Gillion & Kira [thank u mast]

MULTIPLE PC + NPC POLY

fish squared and chips/sea sharp: chip/gillion/caspian

manlet, manwhore, manslayer: chip & gillion & niklaus

deal with the devil: chip & jay & gillion & niklaus

bardic inspiration: chip/jay/gillion/queen

full ensemble: chip/jay/gillion/queen/jazz

NPC RIPTIDE PIRATES, GUEST PCS, MISC NPCS

watergun/writer's block: drey/finn

robopanda/cybershot: alphonze/gryffon

cattlepunk: drey/ichabod [I ADORE THEM. thank u liam someguy]

whitefeather/widow duo: ichabod/ella teach [LOML. made & rp'd this w jynx]

dead husband society: drey/ichabod/ella [u can literally only understand this if you’ve read The Cattlepunk Fic]

starshine: drey/ella [thank jrwi reset]

pearlescent: aslana/edyn [thanks to jynx for putting me on this]

lamprey: anastasia/aslana

meta duo: felipe & goobleck

sea serpent: price & edyn

sea witch: niklaus/edyn [hangout actor au put me on this...]

GRANDBERRYS + JAZZ

waning crescent: lizzie/ava [CANON. LOVE THEM.]

rose tides: lizzie/edyn

guns n roses: lizzie/jazz

singing the blues: jazz/caspian

jam session: jazz/queen

beatbox: jazz & la alma (shoutout hangout actor au rp)

soundwaves: caspian/queen

rosewater: lizzie/caspian [tbh... i love it]

polyberry: lizzie/caspian/john/rudith (all the grandberrys)

PLS MSG ME, REPLY, REBLOG, IDC TO TELL ME EITHER MORE SHIP NAMES FOR THESE SHIPS OR GIVE ME NEW ONES TO BE ADDED IF I LIKE THEM!!!! ill update this consistently!!!

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jrwi-transgender-swag · 1 year ago

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FISH N CHIPS DIVORCE SHOWDOWN !!!

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Chip

"gestures at him wildly look at him man " - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "Well he's a pirate and that's already very trans coded. He bases his personality and general vibe off people he looks up to which is giving gender envy. The only way Chip could ever be cis to me is if he was the token cishet but he's neither so like… Trans boyy (my words are failing me but you get it)" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "literally the transest guy of all time (loser edition). tits out tuesday. man with tits monday. like. transgender moment real " - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "He was picked up by pirates at a young age pre-pueberty. He then spent most of his childhood in a gang. This kid was so malnourished everyone just assumed he was a guy and he went with it since his puberty was so fucked. My transmasc agender king" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "fucking look at him. most transgender motherfucker to ever exist. we'll never know what his actual name was because he was named based on his first home, the black rose pirates ship. his tattoos go over his top surgery scars" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "he’s just . he just kinda is yknow" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag

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Gillion Tidestrider

"4 of the 5 JRWI fans I actually know fall under the transgender umbrella and all of them are absolutely in love with Gillion so here’s got to have something going on there" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "dude hes a fucking fish what else do you want from me. he has it all. the religious trauma. the swagger. the autism. he even has a cool fucking sword. his entire backstory is him being forced into a role against his will and only when he finds others does he get to fully embrace himself come the fuck ON" - Submitted For All Swag "he literally has gilded top surgery scars (saturn art that proves this even if it’s noncanon) that kind of trans swag cannot be ignored!! fucking!! golden scars!!! that shit kicks so much ass are you kidding!!! the koolest fish trans boy ever my goal in life truly" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "same sorta thing as jay, he has this whole arc of changing from trying to live up to expectations to just being what he wants and thinks is good (very trans of him). also he's a fish guy and probably has no understanding of gender, at least in oversea terms. and he canonically referred to himself with it/its pronouns one time which. yes. i think his titles are like pronouns to him, like in the undersea you refer to yourself by describing yourself and your achievements (pretty sure that's actually a triton thing in actual dnd who knows). he is the chosen one and the chosen one was referred to with they/them pronouns for a reason (definitely because the chosen one is genderqueer and not just to be inclusive mhm you can trust me i have no biases, the goddesses told me themselves)" - Submitted For Nonbinary Swag "gives birthout of his pussy?" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "he is like sooo xenogenderr. that fish is just transgender im so sorry. too swagful not to be." - Submitted For Secret Fourth Swag

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#HAPPY ROUND 4 EVERYONE !!!!!!!!!#i already know this is gonna cause some turmoil #me personally i wanna implode just writing this poll #i feel bad for those of you that vote fsdjkljkfhlsd #fuck love. love can never prevail #jrwi trans tournament #jrwi #just roll with it #jrwi riptide #jrwi chip #chip jrwi #jrwi gillion tidestrider #jrwi gillion #gillion tidestrider #gillion jrwi

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aristia-pjoheadcanons · 1 year ago

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POSTING ARES HCS BC HE NEVER GETS ENOUGH ATTENTION

(This is actually canon): It was referenced multiple time in the series “Trials of Apollo” that Ares will often make dirty (inappropriate)-jokes and generally joke around with Apollo about certain things.

Which bring me my headcanon that Apollo and Ares get along because they are the black sheep’s of the family. Apollo will get emotional and start trauma dumping in him, while Ares is sitting there like “that’s rough buddy.”

More headcanons now:

Ares is actually one of the neutral gods in Olympus. (Along with Dionysus, Hades, Athena). Which makes sense why he keeps switching sides mid battle, but even though he does that—other Gods still tolerate him.

He will often be the troublemaker. Often sending horrible pranks to other Gods like creating terrifying & disgusting monsters and send it to Apollo/Hermes/Demeter etc. and blame it on Apollo/Hermes (which usually works because they’re all tricksters).

Demeter doesn’t hate Ares since he would often protect village crops from priests back in 399B.C

I feel like he’s the type of God to have a terrible soft spot for very specific things but would not admit it because he has an image to maintain.

Athena and Ares act like siblings in private meetings and can generally have a nice conversation about battle strategies.

When Athena and Ares were kids they would be on Mount Olympus while silently judging whoever passed them while making nicknames of the people around them. So now, as adults they have a lot of inside jokes but refrain from using them around others.

Hephaestus and Ares are really f’ king awkward around each other for no reason whatsoever. Maybe it’s the fact that they don’t really know how to make friends or not used to making them. But Ares is the God that sends the most requests from him and often praises him (but not to his face). -(which reminds me of when Apollo said he gives encouragement to Hephaestus when he’s working, canon btw).

Ares gets shy very often but has to look strong and unfazed even when his face is red. Most gods just assume that he’s so mad that he turned red.

Other times when he looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel on his neck & forehead simultaneously, he’s actually trying not to burst out laughing.

He finds his own jokes and thoughts entertaining and has a hard time controlling his facial expressions when he thinks of something stupid. Sometimes he says some of them out loud, other times he keeps it to himself bc most of his jokes don’t even make sense unless you hear his full thoughts.

When the Gods of Olympus first met Ares when he was introduced, everyone thought he was a lot more handsome then they assumed. He usually had a helmet on that covered most of his face and during banquets he would just show himself as smoke (not a person), so when they saw him they thought he looked attractive.

Ares finds it embarrassing to see sculptures of himself. In one of them, you can see him trying to cover up his private areas. He thinks that that is no place for people to see. Which is why he never enters museums.

His favourite meals are burgers, fries, fish n’ chips, (Americanised) Chinese food.

Doesn’t like wine that much, but prefers beer.

(Canon) Since Apollo Said that the Gods have game nights in Mount Olympus,

(headcanon) Ares is the instigator during heated discussions about who is cheating or who won. Ares actually controls his temper well & isn’t the one throwing a tantrum, but rather it’s the other Gods who do so. Athena doesn’t care so much as she believes she can spent her intellect in something worth giving it for, but it’s everyone else that is like that. Hephaestus and Hades are never invited, until after the P.J. Series where they finally accepted him to the table. Hephaestus never truly shows up, he’s awkward and is very insecure about how he smells, looks and gets anxious. If he does ever play, he’s completely quiet and tries to take up as less space as possible. They often put Zeus & Hera/Athena/Artemis at each ends of the table. But everybody let’s Zeus win every once in a while bc he’s a sore loser and nobody has the time & energy for another conflict, not even Ares himself.

When Ares first understood the extent of his powers & realised he could control dead people from the underworld, Hades had to tell him to stop because he needed the labour.

Ares deepest, darkest secret is that he watched children’s movies. But in public cinemas or with other gods/people he will watch action movies.

He secretly wishes that he had a loving family. Over 3 millennia’s of being alive - he is bound to think of things like that at least once.

(Canon) Apollo Said that Zeus used to sing songs during banquets before he was born—

Headcanons: if Ares was alive at that time, he would probably laugh in a corner while listening to him and he would get grounded by his father.

#children of ares #percy jackson #percy jackson headcanons #ares #child of ares #ares cabin #greek mythology #pjo #percy jackson scenarios #mars #mount Olympus #ares headcanons #a #Apollo #Hephaestus #Athena #Hermes #gods of olympus

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thought--bubble · 1 year ago

Text

If I had the love I needed, Pt 1

Will (Salad Days) X (Friend Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,431

If I Had The Love I Needed Master List

Will (Salad Days) Master List

Full Master list

Banners by @arcielee

A/N: This will be just 2 parts. Was originally going to be a one-shot, but it just kept getting longer and longer 🤣🤣 (Canon divergence, I fully believe Will smashed Leah, but I didn't want that for my story)

Warnings:: abuse, neglect, alcoholism. (Saved the good stuff for part 2)

"Get out!!!" Your aunt is once again, very drunk and screeching at you while hurtling dishes toward your head.

"Ok! Ok!" You grab your tiny backpack and book it out of the flat. This was a common occurrence for you in your life. Your parents have been gone since before an age where you would have memories and you were left in the care of your aunt who was a full-blown alcoholic.

When she went on a bender, it wasn't abnormal for her to throw one of these fits and throw you out of the flat for a few days. Typical shame response. It did, however, leave you in a precarious position since you did not have enough money to rent your own flat, and you helped your aunt pay the bills so you weren't able to save all that much either.

So you headed off to the fish and chips shop that your best friend works at. She's always the one who bails you out. Letting you stay at her house until your aunt comes off her bender and calls you home to care for her.

When you arrive, Leah is alone in the shop with Will. Leah told you about the awkward encounter she had with him recently when she was fighting with her boyfriend Matt. She almost did something she would live to regret, and Will couldn't seem to let it go. Will was a lonely guy. Anyone who interacted with him could see that. You didn't know him well, just that Leah has known him since childhood.

Leah looks relieved as you enter the shop while Will looks a bit irritated.

"Sorry" you awkwardly mumble. "Leah, can I talk to you?"

"Oh god, please tell me she didn't kick you out again?" Leah says a look of exasperation on her face.

"It wouldn't be my life if she didn't," you smile weakly at her.

"I'll ask my mum if you can stay, but it's been a little crazy at my house, and my mum is not happy with me at the moment" Leah says while scratching the back of her neck.

"If you can't, it's not a big deal. I'll figure something out. " You try to sound confident, but you don't have many friends, so if Leah can't help you, you actually have no clue what you are going to do.

Leah looks at you skeptically. " You can't be out and about all night on the streets of derby wearing that," Leah gestures toward you.

"I don't look bad!" You look down at yourself. You are wearing a plain black jumper with a black pleated mini skirt knee socks and Mary Jane shoes. Your hair in two braids that hang loosely down either side of your head.

"No, you don't. But you'll look like a tart walking around all night, like that, " Leah says, concerned.

"Why would you be walking round all night?" Will interrupts.

"Because her drunk aunt kicks her out every time she has a few too many," Leah says, frustrated.

"It's not a big deal, Leah. I'll be fine, " you say, not wanting anyone to take pity on you.

As if sent by the gods to take the focus off of you, Matt and Tom burst through the door. loud and boisterous.

"We're closed!" Leah says laughing and annoyed.

"Not for us!" Matt says happily leaning over the counter and giving Leah a kiss.

You can see Will's face drop at this as he looks away.

"And where have you been? No one's seen ya for 2 weeks!" Matt says to Will, who just shrugs in response.

Matt goes around the counter and starts rummaging through the cooler, which is clearly annoying Leah as you just stand there. You know it's only a matter of time before Leah kicks them out, and you can finally talk to her privately.

"You could stay at mine. You know, if you really needed to." Will says softly.

Tom stifles a giggle while Will punches his shoulder. "Let's leave the ladies alone," will says getting up, guiding Tom to the door.

Matt laughing gives Leah one final kiss and then walks out behind them.

After they have gone, it feels like a hurricane just left the shop.

Leah looks up at you and sighs. "Now let's try to figure out what to do with you, yeah? My mum text back said, "Not tonight." But I got a couple of girls I can call for ya"

You grit your teeth but smile in thanks. You don't look forward to the idea of sleeping at a complete strangers place, but your options are very limited and dwindling by the second.

You sit on the stool Will was previously sitting at and swing your feet. While Leah cleans up the shop and sends out a few texts trying to find you a place to stay for the night.

"Do you need help?" You offer hoping to break the uncomfortable silence that has fallen between you

"Nah, almost done," she smiles at you, and your stomach turns. PITY. you can see it in her face, and you hate it.

After nearly two hours, she's finally done cleaning, and restocking so the two of you head out, and she locks up.

"I don't know what to do. No one has said yes yet," she bites her nails as she continues looking through her phone.

"Will offered" you laugh looking up at the sky.

"What? Oh.... that might not be a good idea, " Leah says

"I didn't say I was gonna go. Just thought I'd tell ya. Given your..... recent situation"

"That was nothing. A mistake. Should have never gone as far as it did, " Leah says, clearly uncomfortable with this topic.

"Ok. Well, I will figure something out. Go home. I'll be fine. " You hug Leah and give her a reassuring smile.

She looks at you unsure but knows that she has done all she can. "Please just text me when you have landed somewhere? I'll be up all night with worry"

"Promise." You give her a cheeky grin and head off down the sidewalk. Once you turn away from her, that confident facade you had been wearing for her benefit falls. You had no clue what you were going to do.

'I'll just walk around. Not much can happen if I just keep moving.' You think to yourself. You see Will, Tom and Matt heading back towards your direction.

"I'm late, obviously," Matt says annoyed.

"Late?" You ask him eyebrows raised.

"I like to walk Leah home. We weren't supposed to be gone this long. " he shoots an irritated glare towards Will.

"She just started walking, not even 5 minutes ago. You could still catch up, " you say while gesturing toward the direction Leah went

"Right," Matt takes off down the street.

Tom continues walking in that same direction while Will stops in front of you.

"Did you end up finding a place to land?" His voice is so gentle it causes a small smile to creep onto your face.

"Oh yeah, totally headin' there now" you try to keep your face from telling on you but fail miserably

"Will? You comin?" Tom yells from ahead

"Yeah, we are." Will grabs your hand and pulls you along with him. "Told ya you can crash at mine. Leah was right. You can't just wander around alone all night"

You go to protest, but he gives you a "Don't bother" look.

You surrender and follow him. You don't pull your hand away. For some reason, the gentle touch, even something as innocuous as someone holding your hand, feels comforting. Gentleness isn't something you have experienced. Much of so, him holding your hand feels like you are finally getting something you have long since needed.

Tom looks at your intertwined hands and then at Will. "Uh-"

"Shut it, Tom, keep walkin" Will says with a cold stoic look but gives your hand a little squeeze.

You blindly follow Will at this point, mesmerized with his touch, how it's gentle yet commanding.

Tom breaks off in a different direction to go to his flat while you and Will continue straight ahead.

"Are you sure your nan won't be upset you are bringing a random girl home with you?"

"My Nan is bedridden right now. She won't even know you're there. Besides, you're not a random girl. You're a friend of Leah."

The two of you reach the flat.

"Just keep quiet and follow me yeah?"

You nod as he opens the door to the flat as quietly as possible. The door leads directly to a flight of stairs. He motions for you to take your shoes off.

Once you take the shoes off, you hold them in your left hand while Will grabs your right hand and leads you up the stairs.

Your heart is pounding as you go up the stairs, and for a brief second, you regret coming here. What are you doing? You don't know Will enough to be doing this. As if he can sense your hesitation, he turns back towards you and smiles, and just like that, you are pleased with your decision.

Yep. This was a good decision because..... that smile. Yup.

When the two of you reach the top of the landing, he turns back to you and puts his finger over his lips. You nod toward him as he pulls you further into the flat tiptoeing past the first door. He stops at the second door, opens it, and motions for you to go inside.

You enter what seems to be his bedroom.

"Make yourself comfy. I'll be right back" he says this while giving you a cheeky smile as he quietly closes the door.

For the first few minutes, you awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, holding your shoes to your chest as you look around the room.

There is a bed and boxspring on one side of the room. A very small bed you note. That should fill you with nerves, but instead, your face gets hot.

There is a dresser with some assorted items on top. the drawers haphazardly closed. A pile of clothes on the floor.

About 15 minutes later, he comes into the room with two small mugs of tea, placing them on the dresser and then quietly closing the door.

"Brought you a cuppa" he whispers while he looks at you with a smile " you can put your shoes down" he chuckles

"Oh yeah, thanks." You feel your face heating up again as you place your shoes on the floor.

You reach for the tea and bring the cup to your lips, taking a sip. "I umm I like your room," you say awkwardly.

"Yeah, thanks. Not much, but it's home. " he sips his own tea, his eyes peering at you over the cup.

You both finish your tea in silence.

"You can borrow a shirt to sleep in if you need. I'd give you joggers, but I know they wouldn't fit. " he chuckles, looking you up and down.

Your face doesn't just heat up at this comment. You are convinced it has actually erupted into flames. "N-n-no, that's ok. I can sleep in my jumper"

"We'll have to share the bed.... can't have my Nan come out to use the loo and see me on the sofa."

You look over at the very tiny bed and bite your bottom lip.

"Don't worry love we'll make it work"

He makes his way over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of joggers and a long t-shirt.

"I'll go get dressed then," he leaves the room again, closing the door as quietly as possible behind him.

You let out a breath and take your skirt and socks off. The jumper you are wearing is big enough to cover your bum but just barely. Your thighs on full display.

"Lord, this is awkward," you mumble to yourself as you fold your skirt and socks, placing them on top of your little backpack. You remain standing in the middle of the room, pulling your jumper down, trying to will it with the power of your mind to somehow grow longer.

Will returns, and you spin around to look at him. He looks good in his loose-fitting t shirt and joggers a lone silver chain around his neck.

He goes over to the bed and lays down on his side toward you. Your feet are rooted to the floor, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest that you are certain he and possibly his Nan in the other room can hear it.

"C'mere," he looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes, but you stay frozen, unable to move. "I'm not gonna bite ya, I promise"

You move slowly toward the bed and sit down on the edge. You lay down on your side with your back to Will.

You can feel him shift behind you making room for you.

"Do you mind if I put my arm on ya? Space is kinda limited. " he chuckles

"Oh yeah, ok.... that's fine. " You hold your breath as you feel his arm come down around you and pull you back so your back is flush against his chest. His arm on your waist and his hand flat against your upper stomach.

You can feel him sigh into your hair as he shifts a little more behind you, making himself comfortable. You can feel your heart beating so hard you wouldn't be surprised if it just leapt from your chest and ran out of the room.

Will nuzzles his face into your hair and takes a deep breath in pressing himself tighter to your back. You close your eyes and try to sleep. You can hear and feel his breathing behind you, falling into a steady rhythm.

You try desperately to calm your heart rate down but can't. You feel his arm and hand on you and his body pressed up against yours, and you feel like there is electricity pulsing throughout your body. A strong and deep want developing between your legs that you are desperately trying to ignore.

"Do I make you that uncomfortable?" He whispers into your ear.

You noticably shiver when he does this and release a shakey sigh. "Oh umm no" you whisper.

He pulls you tighter against his body pressing his now very hard cock up against your lower back.

"Then why can't you sleep?"

A/N: teehee. Second part will be out soon. 💚

Part 2

To be added to taglist click here

#ewan mitchell verse #will salad days #salad days #will salad days fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan nation #ewan mitchell #will salad days fic #ewanverse #jess fics #my emo angsty bf

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brainlessrot · 1 year ago

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Ranking NRC dorms on how much I would trust and like their cooking -

fair warning: I've skipped like most culinary croucible events and forgot 90% of the ones i played, so this is all based on my subjective reading of their vibes and the limited canon knowledge i could gather in my brain

Contents: As the title says +individual characters ranked

Characters: All dorms + students and teachers

1. Scarabia

do i even need to explain this one??

One of the first episodes in their chapter was literally cooking with jamil

I LOVE middle eastern food. give me hummus and some pita bread and im set for life.

Pre scarabia arc jamil would be a dangerous choice, but post chapter? im gonna be knocking on his door with bribes so that he gives me any extra food he made 🙏

not kalim tho, yall stay safe

(also wrote this while at Agrabah's cafe in disney land, so my opinion might be skewed)

Continues under this cut!!

2. Octavinelle

Mans whole bussiness is food

if im paying for it i better be getting something good

but would NEVER try to ask any of them to cook for me (for free obv) bc i dont think that would end well (for me)

Jade?? mixing mushrooms he found somewhere

Floyd? forgets and goes somewhere, now the kitchen is burnt

Azul? nuh huh 💀 i aint seeling my soul for some toast

theyre like, Norwegian/italian i think?? and idk much about Norwegian cuisine but like italian is soooo good 🤞

3. Heartslabyul

Only for the sweets (i might not trust trey but i have a sweet tooth)

I dont mind tea, but they better not bring out their British cuisine out

If i see any fish n chips im evaporating from that table (lies, free food is free food)

i wanna go to an unbirthday party 😔

riddle would cook something too healthy and would count my calorie intake 💀

ace or deuce? id better be getting ready to get intoxication

cater... i just dont see him cooking

4. Pomefiore

listen... theyre mostly rich pampered boys, so would they even be cooking?

i dont trust the source of Rook's food

epel would only give me apple based foods (tasty, but gets boring after a while)

Vil would probably give me those weird natural green smoothies AND I DONT WANT THAT 🤬

+ i dont like french people (jk)

5. Ighnihyde

listen

HEAR ME OUT

ik theyre all nerds and all they eat is instant ramen

BUT GREEK FOOD.

all for that greek yogurt 😩

idia doesn't know how to cook except for instant foods which i dont mind (he gets favourite character treatment)

ortho,,, questionable. He has access to the internet (aka infinite recipes) but would it taste good? hes like 10

6. Savanaclaw

sweaty men.

i should just leave it at that ngl

leona? rich ahh man (a GROWN man at that!! 20 whole years of age!!!) and he probably doesn't even know how to fry an egg

ruggie? no way he gives me anything good for free 😭

Jack is the only one i would trust, but man probably also drinks protein shakes and those sad chicken breast and rice meals.

7. Diasomnia

no thank you

i like my soul staying where it is.

i dont trust their magical food

lillia is not even my last choice if im ever hungry, he aint a choice AT ALL

Malleus... he probably doesn't know how to physically cook?? sure he can bibidi babidi boop me some food like the giant fairy godmother he is, but i want something real man 😔

Sebek... protein shake man...

Silver MUST know how to cook (living with lillia would be imposible if not) so if i HAD to, I would go to him, but i dont want him to fall asleep and faceplant on my food 😭

+ Characters Ranked in tiers! (students and teachers)

The best, five star Michelin food:

Jamil, Trey, Trein

You could be happy eating:

Vil, Epel, Floyd, Silver, Azul, Ruggie, Crewel

Its food:

Jack, Cater, idia (if making instant ramen) Ortho, Sam

its... food?:

Rook (seriously, where did he get that?), Jade, Ace, Deuce, Malleus (the food is uncorporeal), Sebek, Vargas

dubious taste, would rather not:

Riddle, Kalim, Leona (its just a slab of uncooked meat), Idia (if trying to cook real food)

call 911 BEFORE eating please:

Lillia, Grim, Crowley

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theconstantsidekick · 1 year ago

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My Greatest Creation Is You

Pairings: Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), Howard Stark x Stark!Reader (best friends)

Genre: A bickering fluffy look back at the good times, with slight angst

Summary: Tony realizes he never really knew his father. Thankfully he has a box of Howard Starks's stuff and a video message from beyond the grave to help him out.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Past Trauma.

a/n: read Age Of Ultron for more information on Y/n's backstory

sidenote: I just missed Tony a lot, ok?

“That thing in your chest is based on unfinished technology,” Fury tells him as they sit next to each other, listening to the sound of bird chip away at what once used to be his center table. They’re at his place, it’s pretty banged up from the party, the windows are all gone, he can hear the waves beneath them, hell, he can even hear the birds chirping.

“No, it was finished,” Tony argues. “It has never been particularly effective until I miniaturized it and put it in my—”

“No,” Fury interjects. “Howard said the arc reactor was the stepping stone to something greater. He was about to kick off an energy race that was gonna dwarf the arms race. He was on to something big, something so big that it was gonna make the nuclear reactor look like a triple-A battery.”

This is the first he’s hearing of this.

He begins pouring himself a glass of water. “Just him, or Anton Vanko in on this too?”

“Anton Vanko is the other side of that coin. Anton saw it as a way to get rich,” Fury tells him.

“I told you he got deported, what I didn’t tell you was that Howard was the one who got him deported,” Y/n chimes in from where she stands in front of them, smoking a cigarette while leaning against what used to be a wall. “Once he got back, the Russians found out he couldn’t deliver so they shipped his ass off to Siberia after which he spent the next 20 years in a vodka-fuelled rage.” She exhales letting out the smoke.

“Not quite the environment you want to raise a kid in, the son you had the misfortune of crossing paths with in Monaco,” Fury adds.

Ok, got it, he thinks. Irrelevant now, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

“You told me I hadn’t tried everything. What do you mean I haven’t tried everything? What haven’t I tried?” Tony asks.

“He said that—” Fury points towards with a glass in hand as he continues, “you were the only person with the means and knowledge to finish what he started.”

Well, fuck.

“He said that?” Tony doesn’t believe a single word of it.

“Are you that guy? Hm?” Fury leans in, resting his elbows on his knees but his eyes or well eye remains locked on Tony. “Are you? ‘Cause if you are, then you can solve the riddle of your heart.”

It takes a second for Fury’s words to settle, but when they do, all Tony can do is shake his head slowly in what would be considered something similar disagreement or even maybe shock? “I don’t know where you get your information, but he wasn’t my biggest fan.”

“What do you remember about your dad? Huh?” There’s a challenge in Fury’s words.

“He was cold, he was calculating. He never told me he loved me. He never even told me he liked me, so it’s a little tough for me to digest when you’re telling me he said the whole future was riding on me and he’s passing it down. I don’t get that.” He really fucking doesn’t. “You’re talking about a guy whose happiest day was when he shipped me off to boarding school,” he adds, as he leans back into his chair.

It’s a fucked up day, don’t you think? Tony’s being told Howard Fucking Stark bet the goddamn future on the son he couldn’t wait to get rid of.

“That’s not true,” Fury counters. His words fall out easy as if the years and years of trauma Howard gave him were not valid. As if whatever he lived through with his father wasn’t all that real. The world has always seen his father in a much different light than he ever did. He made peace with that. Howard Stark was a completely different than Tony’s dad but FUCK if it doesn’t grind his gears when he hears Fury spew this shit.

The future riding on me? Bull fucking shit!

“Well, then, clearly you knew my dad better than I did,” Tony half-concedes, wanting the topic to be over.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Fury comments, putting his glass down on the makeshift table in front of them. The moment the words fall out of his mouth, a couple agents along with Agent Coulson and Natali—fuck! No. God!—Natasha Romanoff walk up in front of them. “He was one of the founding members of S.H.I.E.L.D.” Fury says that like that wasn’t a fucking bombshell he just dropped. The asshole is all nonchalant, looking down at his watch, absolutely uncensored about how he just broke Tony’s fucking brian a little bit.

The agents drop the crate infront of him.

“What?” Tony asks Fury, confounded. “WHAT?” He looks over at Y/n, who looks even more zen than Fury. “WHAT THE FUCK?”

Fury gets up off the chair “I got a two o’clock.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! What’s this?” He asks, pointing at the crate.

“Okay, you’re good, right?” Fury asks, ready to walk away.

Tony’s up too. “No, I’m not good.”

“You got this? Right? Right?” Fury asks, pointing over at the crate.

“Got what?” Tony’s fucking lost. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to get.”

“Natasha will remain a floater at Stark with her cover intact,” Fury informs him as he puts on his jacket. “You remember Agent Coulson, right?”

“Yeah,” is all he can say because he knows he’s not getting any more answers out of that guy.

Fury begins walking away, but stops for a second, turning to face him again, “Oh! And Tony, remember, I got my eye on you.”

That’s fucking hilarious.

Natalie/Agent Romanoff/Natasha—We will—we’ll just call her Agent Romanoff from hereon out. Anyway, so, Agent Romanoff says, “We’ve disabled all communications. No contact with the outside world. Good luck.” And with that she leaves as well.

Turning to Coulson, Tony begins, “Please. First thing, I need a little bodywork. I’ll put in a little time at the lab. If we could send one of your goon squad down to The Coffee Bean, Cross Creek, for a Starbucks run, or something like that, that’d be nice.”

“I’m not here for that,” Coulson’s reply is simple. “I’ve been authorised by Director Fury to use any means necessary to keep you on-premises. If you attempt to leave or play any games, I will tase you and watch Supernanny while you drool into the carpet. Okay?”

Fuck me! “I think I got it, yeah,” he replies instead.

“Enjoy your evening’s entertainment,” Coulson comments. He turns over to Y/n then, “Ms. Stark, good to see you again.”

She smiles then. “Hey Phill, how’ve you been?” She asks as she pulls out the cigarette from between her lips, pulling a foot up and rubbing the butt across the soul of her boots, releasing pretty yellow embers. Pocketing the now extinguished butt she walks over to the men.

“I’ve been great. You?” She just passes a pointed look over at Tony as a response and Coulson has the audacity to smile. “Fair enough. You need anything?”

“A pack of menthols would be great,” she answers with a smile.

“On it,” Coulson nods, walking off.

And Tony cannot help but stare.

“What?” She asks, looking absolutely innocent.

Rolling his eyes, he replies, “Fuck the fuck off, Stark.” And that somehow makes her chuckle.

She waves him over, “Come on,” she says pointing at the crate. Understanding her instruction, both of them pick up the damn thing and begin dragging in downstairs.

It’s a little while later when they’re in the basement that Tony is hit with the realization that he never really knew his father at all.

He’s looking through the crate, it’s all stuff that seems fairly out of place but somewhat useful? He’s not sure. There are blue prints for the arc reactor, newspaper articles, videos reels and such.

He decides to play one of the reels. It seems to be the outtakes from the video of his father that he showcased at the Stark Expo earlier.

“Everything is achievable through technology. Better living, robust heath,” his father speaks on the video tape, while Tony tries flicking through a notebook and notes down some of the calculations he thinks might come in handy. “—and for the first time in human history, the possibility of world peace. I’m Howard Stark, and everything you’ll need for the future can be found right here. City of the Future? City of Tomorrow? City of—Hang on” Dad begins to fumble on the screen, redoing the take. “I’m Howard Stark and everything you’ll need in the future can be found right here.” This is fucking stupid, Tony thinks. He’s about to turn off the damn thing when—

“Hold on,” Y/n speaks up from behind him. It startles him a little because he didn’t even know she had entered the room. “You’re gonna miss the best part.”

And yeah, that grabs his attention.

As she walks over to lean on her side against the wall opposite Tony, the video continues.

While Dad keeps talking to the camera, he reconginizes a small child pop up from behind the model and pick up a building with a mischievous smile on his face.

“So, from all of us at Stark Industries, I would like to personally—” Howard turns a little and then seems to finally notice Little Tony. “Tony, what are you doing back there? What is that?” He scolds the kid on screen. “Put that back. Put it back where you got it from. Where’s your sister? Y/n? Y/n!”

And then Y/n walks onto the screen, annoyed.

“I’m right fucking here, Howie! Okay? Can you—can you just—I don’t know, relax maybe?” She looks the same as she does right now. Maybe a new wrinkle or two, but mostly the same, except a lot more pissed. “And don’t fucking yell at him, you asshat!”

“Don’t curse infront of him, Y/n! You know how he is, he’ll pick it up and Maria will kill us both,” Howard reprimands her.

He watches as Y/n walks over to Little Tony, leaning down and dropping a kiss on his head. “Well, then don’t talk to him like that. He’s an inquisitive kid. I mean he’s your kid, what the—” she covers Little Tony’s ears with her hands. “—fuck—” she takes them off, “else were you expecting him to be like?”

His dad just shakes his head. “I’m trying to do something here,” he says, pointing at the camera that’s been rolling.

He can see Y/n rolling her eyes at Howard. “Yeah, yeah. Because this is what he’ll remember years later—not the parts where you kept yelling at him for absolute—” she covers her ears again, “—fucking bullshit—” uncovers them, “—that you seemed to care more about. A1 parenting Howie. Why don’t you write a book about it?”

And clearly, Howard feels some sense of guilt about it all because his head falls. With one hand on his waist and the other resting on the model, he revalutes his word for a few seconds and then looks up. Tony (this Tony, not Little Tony) can see he’s about to say something, wants to say something but before he can, Y/n picks up Little Tony on her shoulder.

“Come on, Stark, we’ll go have our kinda fun and not invite Dad at all,” Y/n says excitedly, making Little Tony giggle.

He watches his dad let out a sigh in defeat.

Then the footage cuts off.

The screen shows a few more outtakes of Howard talking to the camera guy while drinking whiskey or redoing takes.

Tony can’t help himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me Dad founded S.H.I.E.L.D.?” He asks.

Y/n (real Y/n, not the video Y/n) looks over, now leaning on her back, she shrugs. “Wasn’t really pertinent information.”

“Wasn’t pertinent—Are you fucking kidding me?!” Tony’s gonna loose his fucking mind.

“I told you I worked with him!”

Tony can’t help but chuckle. “Now that’s just bullshit!” He’s shouting now, “I thought you meant at Stark Industries!”

“Why the fuck would they need a goddamn spy at Stark Industries??!!” She bites back, standing straight now. She’s shouting too.

“To spy on competitive companies! I don’t know??!!”

“You think Stark Industries needed an expert spy, adept at espionage to keep an eye on their competition?!!” Her hands are flying everywhere. “Is the palladium giving you retroactive brain damage?!”

Frankly? It does seem really stupid on his part to presume that she worked as a spy for Stark Industries. But come on! He wasn’t provided the entire data.

“Oh my god, I get that you’re trying to insult me but that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever,” Tony bites back regardless. “Maybe you’re the one with brain damage.”

She begins walking over to him. “I’ll show you brain damage—”

He gets off the chair, ready to throw down with her. “Yeah, fine, show me, granny—”

Both Stark sibling halt in their position, with hands around each other’s throat, ready to throw punches, when the video recording on the screen calls out to him.

“Tony.” Dad is looking into the camera, sitting atop the model behind him. His previous put together suit gone, all that’s left now is his messy tie and white shirt with rolled up sleeves. “You’re too young to understand this right now, so I thought I would put it on film for you. I built this for you. And someday you’ll realise that it represents a whole lot more than just people’s inventions. It represents my life’s work. This is the key to the future. I’m limited by the technology of my time, but one day you’ll figure this out. And when you do, you will change the world. What is and always will be my greatest creation is you.”

The reel runs out. Screen goes white.

Both the Starks, slowly take their hands off each other and sit down on the floor, facing each other.

After a silence that seems to stretch on for a little too long, Y/n decides to break it.

“How could you think I was a spy for Stark Industries?” She has a small smile on her face.

Tony can’t help but smile too. “I don’t know, man. You’re just… You’re like the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in my kitchen cupboard. You’re just here, you’re always here, you’ve always been here. I don’t question it.” He shrugs. “I just enjoy having it be there.”

“It's me,” Y/n says, leaning back far enough to support herself with her elbows.

“What?”

“I replace the boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

Tony laughs, “Figures.” He shakes his head. “I—I—I think—” He can’t help but laugh again, “I didn’t put much thought behind it, but I kinda just figured that Aunt Peg just handed you to Dad and that was that.”

Nodding her head slowly, she agrees. “That’s kinda exactly what happened. I was this freak of a thing she’d recued on an op, and then yeah, she basically handed me over to Howie.” Her head falls back as she looks up at the ceiling. “It helped that he was probably my best friend in the entire world.”

Tony snorts in amusement. “Didn’t really look like it on the video,” he says, pointing to the screen.

She looks at him then, “After—I guess, after you were born—I don’t know. It got complicated. I expected him to do better by you. And don’t get me wrong, he tried to… but—” Her words drop off.

“But—” He prompts, desperate to know more.

She shrugs. “But it wasn’t good enough, it wasn’t persistent. He could’ve done better, he should have. He knew that.” She shakes her head. “Like I said, it was complicated.” Her head falls back again. “Once you were born you became my favorite person in the entire world and nothing was good enough. I guess—I mean maybe he just didn’t know how to be a dad, you know? He didn’t make for a great dad, but he was still my best friend.”

And yeah, he can understand that.

This man, the man who saved her, gave her a home, founded an organisation with her, for her—opposing him on anything couldn’t have been easy for her. It all does sound fairly complicated.

I guess Howard Stark never had an uncomplicated relationship, did he?

The thought makes him smile.

But then he remembers.

“Still pretty uncool of you, you know? Going behind my back and calling mom,” he says, with a cunning smile.

She looks at him with an unimpressed look. “I called Fury because he was the only guy who could get through to you. You have a habit of overlooking my advice when shit is hitting the fan.”

He nods in understanding. “But you still called mom.”

“I saved you from dying.”

“...by calling mom.”

She kicks him gently with her leg. “Whatever, asshole.”

Read the next part here.

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fluorescentbalaclava · 7 months ago

Text

training season's over (double chapter)

Chapter 7: Gleaming & Chapter 8: FISH n' CHIPS

Summary:

Gleaming

To describe something as good, desirable or brilliant. A particular favourite of the Guards Division. If something is ‘gleaming’ you’re probably onto a good thing.

FISH n' CHIPS acronyms, Fighting In Someone's House and Causing Havoc In People's Streets.

TF141/female reader, König/female reader

spy reader, forced bonding, slow burn, slow build, military inaccuracies, suggestive language, language, canon typical violence, second chance, domestic fluff, enemies to friends, becoming buddies, referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hugs, bar fights, alcohol, cuddles

previous: chapter six "contact"

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Chapter 7

How to tell a guy has a crush on you?

You immediately groan to yourself for googling this at your grown age. There was a time when you dated, you even had a boyfriend before all of this. Still, it feels like a lifetime ago, those thoughts were pushed to the back of your head for a while, but after your encounter with König you need answers.

God, at what point I got so disconnected with emotions?

Ah, the good old WikiHow.

1 - He talks to you—a lot.

Uhm...maybe?

2 - He makes eye contact.

Definitely, it’s kinda unsettling sometimes.

3 - He gives you his full attention.

Uh... I mean, yes. But isn't this like the bare minimum?

4 - He laughs at your jokes.

This is ridiculous.

5 - He tries to impress you.

Eh, perhaps.

7 - He lowers his voice when he speaks to you.

The fuck?

You cringe at yourself, before closing your computer and placing it next to you. I mean, maybe it’s not romantically? He clearly cares about you, after all, you don't just go through that for anyone, at least you wouldn't. Or would you? Fuck, this is hard.

König was---is your friend. You began to remember the first time you met him; you fresh joined KorTac, lined up in a row with other new recruits. Upcoming missions required weeks long deployments, and you were informed that some of you were needed for them as there was a shortage of staff in the base, due to the many operations KorTac was contracted to carry out, and that the commanding officers would pick a few rookies to fill the spots.

The first two officers went past you, not even giving you a second glance, just picking the biggest people in the row and calling it a day. The third of them, an American, just looked down at you and with a sarcastic tone said.

"I think you're in the wrong place, doll."

Cunt.

The sight of the fourth one immediately made everyone on the row stand straight. You heard someone beside you whisper "colonel". He was intimidating, tall as fuck, with a black sniper hood over his face and clear paint smeared on the fabric under the holes of his eyes, looking straight out of a Friday the 13th film.

He walked in silence, taking the time to examine each one of the remaining recruits in line. Opposite to the other officers, or at least the ones he talked to, he liked rookies. They were fresh meat, easy to mould to his liking. You saw him looking at you, slightly tilting his head like a curious dog, and you made yourself hold his gaze.

That might have caught his attention, because next thing you knew, he was in front of you. Looking down, probably standing too close on purpose only to make you look up even more, putting your neck in an uncomfortable position. God, it was humiliating.

"Name?" He asked, surprising you as his voice was not as deep as you expected.

"Sage, sir"

"SAS?" He asked, pointing at the Union Jack on your chest.

"No, sir. I was hired before I could try for selection. Corporal, British Army." You explained, and you saw him narrowing his eyes while looking at your face.

"You're coming with me, Maus." He said before simply turning around and walking away. Leaving you a little dumbfounded, as well as your fellow comrades, but soon you followed after.

And that was it, just like that you were under his command until you had the requirements to try and become a sergeant. You never asked him why he exactly did it, you didn’t want him to feel like you were questioning him. He was your superior, after all. Google just told you that "Maus" was a common term of endearment in German.

Those thoughts brought back to that day in Uzlovoye, Russia. Everything felt calm enough— just a rural town, you thought. You really don't remember much; you remember getting into what seemed like an abandoned building and having to collect a computer with vital information inside a bunker. You remember hands behind you, König's voice asking for updates through the comm, the growing anxiety in his voice at the lack of response, the hands squeezing your neck, and then everything went black. The next thing you remember was lifting your head, trying to move to no avail, something hard behind you, the feeling of restraints all around your body, and the disgusting smell of rust and humidity.

A knock on your door distracts you.

“Who is it?”

“Me,” Soap voice says from outside the door.

“Come in.”

He opened the door, finding you resting on your bed already in your pyjamas. One with bunnies this time. Looking around, he quickly realises you have already made yourself quite at home. The room is fully decorated now, except for some boxes piling up in the corner. He could even bet you would have painted the walls as well, if given the chance. You can tell he’s also ready for bed with a shirt from some band you don’t even know and tartan pyjama bottoms.

“Came for a tour?” You said it with a teasing tone from bed, looking up at him.

“Oh, sorry” He answered clearing his throat.

“I'm here to formally invite ye to our monthly film night” Soap said with a playful, elegant tone.

"Monthly? How come I'm first learning about this? I've been here for four months already" Seeing Soap standing on the doorway with a cocky grin.

"Sure, ye can get mad at us for not inviting ye...or ye can be over the moon we are doing it now" He said teasingly.

"Fine...just give me a minute."

And now you were there, in the usual sitting position, with Gaz in the middle, you on one side and Soap on the other. Ghost and Price are sitting on individual sofa at each end of the couch. All of them looked more casual, in their pyjamas as well. Maybe next time you could convince them to do a face mask and turn this into a proper sleepover, like the ones you held with your girlfriends back in high school. You brought a blanket with you to snuggle as well as a cardigan, the base felt like a freezer in the winter.

They did a rock, paper, scissors competition to see who picked the film. Something in you got suspicious when everyone groaned when Price won, even Ghost, but you gave his taste in movies the benefit of the doubt.

Fucking hell...

He picked Gangs of New York, and about half an hour later, the only thing keeping you awake was the feeling of your head bobbling every time you were close to falling asleep.

The only thing keeping Kyle entertained was seeing how hard you were trying to stay awake. From what Johnny told him, you apparently had trouble sleeping, often waking at night to sneak to the kitchen. So, to try and help you, at some point he shifted his shoulder a bit, so when you fell asleep, your head fell against it.

He felt how your breath slowly became even and calm, and you soon were sleeping like a baby. At least she can spare herself from this. As much as he tried to keep focused on the screen, trying to at least follow the storyline, you kept leaning more of your weight against him, seeking his warmth, to which he felt his cheeks warming up.

He took a look around, Ghost was watching the screen, Soap was asleep as well, and Price was watching the picture attentively.

His hand was awkwardly behind you, not sure what to do with it, as your body was pressed on his side. After a few minutes of consideration, he decided that to be comfortable, or so he told himself, to delicately put his arm around your waist, careful to be respectful and gentle. You shifted slightly, and he almost pulled away, but you just snuggled more against him, making him confident enough to cuddle you some more.

He leaned back on the couch, relaxing. It was surprisingly pleasant to rest like that. He could feel the warmth of your body underneath your clothes and how your body gently moved with each breath.

The light of the television illuminated your sleeping face, your muscles relaxed and a peaceful expression, quite the opposite of what he normally sees in you. You looked like a powerhouse when you trained, running through the o course like it was nothing, doing series after series at the gym, and relentlessly hitting whatever thing you had in front of you to train: the bag, mannequins, or Soap.

In your sleeping thoughts, the heat coming from an unknown source was soothing, the aroma of cologne appearing in your dreams and the softness of the cotton of his shirt against your cheek.

He tried to remember the last time he ever was with someone like this. Probably before he joined the 141. Since he met Price, his life has been dedicated to the task force, his country, and saving the world. He almost forgot how nice this was.

The thoughts started to drift even more.

He imagined coming back to someone after work, lying like that while relaxing after a hard day of work, ordering takeout, watching the telly, and then heading to the bedroom. He didn’t realise until now that he craved that, the intimacy of a partner and the closeness of someone outside his friends. So focused on his job he almost forgot the feeling of a warm body pressed against him, the softness of the fabric of your shirt under his hand, your steady breath...he felt slightly flustered at the thoughts crossing his head, but he allowed himself to enjoy in silence. Just two co-workers resting on an evening—it wasn't a big deal. You looked adorable, he had to admit. And he enjoyed the moments he spent with you off-duty; going for the groceries, watching reality TV, or going for runs in the morning. All the stuff he dreaded or felt like chores of civilian life was now enjoyable. They almost made him forget he was a soldier, that he was in a base, and that you are there because you are a criminal. Of course, he would never tell you any of that.

"Kyle" You whispered groggily, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at you. You couldn’t even open your eyes, the sight bringing a soft smile to his face.

"How long until it ends?" You added it, making him chuckle silently.

"It's almost three hours long, and we're only one hour in, luv" He whispered back, amused.

"For fuck's sake" You muttered in an annoyed groggy tone, curling up on yourself even more while pulling the blanket up, wrapping yourself as you were still leaning against him, going back to sleep.

He could get used to this.

Chapter 8

With a unanimous vote, or so they told you, they decided to take you to the Battleship, a small bar close to the base opened by a retired SAS member mostly for other soldiers to hang out in.

You decided on putting on a long-sleeve shirt with some open buttons on the front that let it hang open enough for your tank top to peek out. As well as just some normal jeans, your tactic boots, and a jacket. You also decided to leave your hair down with clips to prevent it from falling all over your face. And just the tiniest bit of makeup—you were actually excited to see yourself a bit more dolled up than usual. Still casual enough, you think.

When Price sees you, a realization quickly strikes him. Yes, you were a merc, a spy, and you murder people—all crimes he was already too familiar with, and by the looks of it, so were you. But you were only a girl. When you arrived with a soft smile to meet them in the car park, it was like you didn't belong there with them. In other circumstances, you probably would have finished college by now; you would be getting ready to go out with your girlfriends for a drink after a normal day of work and chatter about your lives; you'd have a flat (a new one); and probably a partner. But instead, whatever life choices you made brought you here, going out on a Saturday night with four war criminals, older than you, to a shitty bar on the side of the road. He almost feels pity for you.

Pity he's quickly snapped out of when, apparently, once you got in the Jeep and you were getting comfortable, Soap got in behind you, accidentally pulling your hair with his arm against the seat, to which you winced and almost instinctively threw a very hard push against his shoulder, making him loudly groan but back out.

"Get off my hair," you said, glaring at him, picking up your hair and putting it over one of your shoulders, brushing it together again.

"I'm trying, but it's fuckin' everywhere. Can't ye put on a ponytail or something? Jesus Christ, no need to dislocate my shoulder." He said it with a small wince of pain, rubbing his shoulder.

"Muppets, behave," Price said with a sigh before getting into the driver seat.

It's probably going to be a long night.

He had yet to ask you for what fucked-up reason you ended up enlisting in the first place. But he saw you were uncomfortable enough when he tried to make you call your parents more frequently, and he didn't want to push any further.

He saw on the rearview mirror that Soap and you had made peace, and he was now telling you about how terrible the new recruits were and how they couldn't even handle a few runs around the base, and he was surprised when he heard a “I give them two more weeks” from Ghost, who was sitting next to you.

You seem well enough, considering your situation. He was glad when Kyle came to him, asking for permission to take you along with Soap to the town on a small shopping spree by the sounds of it.

Soap very much enjoyed the little getaway, even if it was for mundane things such as going to the supermarket, the bakery, and a small shop to get your mug. They made you wait in another aisle while Gaz and him debated between getting you the “I’m not short, I’m just more down to earth than most people!” one or the "Don't be a cuntcake" one that had a little drawing of a cupcake. Ultimately, their decision was the right one when you opened the box and cringed at the mug about your height. He really enjoyed getting to taste the macarons you bought. They were a bit overpriced for his liking, but they were tasty, so it was worth it.

"So... thoughts?" Gaz said, walking beside you as you entered the bar.

"It's...not bad," you say slowly, looking around.

It's clearly not your style or your idea of a bar. The decorations look like they were clearly chosen by a retired soldier (in a bad way), and it reeks of cigarettes; you could be smoking two cigars yourself by the amount of smoke you're breathing. Needless to say, it is quite busy, and Ghost and Price walk in front of you, with Soap behind as they go to the bar. Gaz just chuckled, probably sensing that this wasn't really your cup of tea.

"After a drink, it'll grow in you," he says as you start walking to the counter as well.

"Price! It's been a while, mate, what you've been up to?" The man at the counter asked cheerfully, already grabbing a bottle of whisky.

"Very busy months, Arthur. We are catching a break while we can," the captain answered while leaning on the counter.

"He is the owner," Gaz whispered to you.

You glanced at the man, looking him up and down. Checkered shirt, long beard, curly hair, missing a leg. Probably the reason why he retired in the first place.

"Oh, and who's this? Your daughter?" He said it with the same cheerful attitude, noticing you were looking at him and extending his hand to you. You chuckled as you shook his hand, and Gaz and Soap snickered at the comment as well.

"How old do you think I am? No, she's a new recruit," Price said in a mock-offended tone.

"Sa---...eh, Wire" Old habits die hard.

"Sorry, John. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.” He said it with a friendly tone, letting you go and putting a small bowl of peanuts in front of you.

“What can I do for you today?"

"Water, I have to drive."

"Whisky"

"Bourbon"

"Guinness, please"

"Do you have absinthe?"

"I actually do! It's been a while since someone ordered, but we serve it the classic way. Give me a moment." The man behind the counter, seemingly excited by the request, left to search for the necessary tools on the back.

When you looked next to you, your teammates were looking at you as if you had a second head.

"What?" Your tone was already defensive.

"Are you an alcoholic, bonnie?" Soap answered with his own question.

"I like the taste! It’s like liquorice."

"That doesn't help your case, luv," Gaz said teasingly, winning a playful scoff from you.

"Fuck off, it's just to warm up."

After Arthur came back, he made a small show of serving your absinthe, ice-cold water, absinthe spoon, and sugar cube, and you were surprised to even see a Pontarlier reservoir glass. After that, he went to serve the rest of the drinks less excitedly.

Once the first round was finished and Soap gagged after asking to try your drink, the five of you left the counter in favour of an empty table next to the pool, dividing into two teams: Soap and Ghost against Gaz and you. Price opted to be a spectator while smoking a cigar. After Ghost broke the aligned balls, their team had the solid ones, while you were left with stripes.

Alcohol must have really warmed you up because you were laughing more than usual at playful banter and at Soap's stupid dick jokes directed at Ghost regarding balls and pool cues.

Simon grumbled, but deep down, he didn't mind. For a change, it was nice to hear your laugh and to see your cheeks flush as you got hot from laughing and the heat of the place. He could see the men from the other tables ogling you, and although he knew you were perfectly capable of handling them yourself, he couldn't help but shoot glares in their direction when you weren't looking, making them immediately turn around at the sight of a man like Ghost catching them red-handed. A strange feeling of protectiveness was brewing in his chest—something about someone like you in a place like this and surrounded by rough men. It was foolish to think; he was well aware, and he felt almost embarrassed to even entretain the idea. Three months ago, he hated you and everything about you, and he let Price know multiple times that it was a terrible idea to have a criminal on the team.

But now...he had to look away when you bent over the table on your turn; suddenly, the inside of his mask was too warm.

"I need a drink," you announced, bubbly, stretching your back before handing Gaz your pool cue.

"No more absinthe, bonnie, won't hold yer hair while you throw up." Soap said, teasing, making you chuckle.

"I'm getting a coke; don't worry, mom."

"And I'm going to the bathroom," Price announced from the nearby table.

"Does anyone want anything?" You asked as you began to walk away.

"No thanks, luv," Gaz said, as Soap and Ghost only shook their heads as they were studying the table, seeing the best way to proceed as they were losing.

You walked away to the counter, which was across the bar, allowing the three men to keep sight of you.

Soap lowered his upper body over the table, hitting a red ball but missing the pocket, making him curse under his breath. Gaz chuckled at this, and they had a small break while you got back since it was your turn. He saw you waiting for Arthur to be done with another customer when a man he didn't recognize but saw on a nearby table approached you, shamelessly putting his hand around your waist as he stood beside you. The men on his table were watching the scene with a smirk on their faces.

This made him annoyed, and apparently, he wasn't the only one.

"Fucking dogs." Soap said, standing next to Ghost.

"Should we go for her?" Gaz asked, trying his best not to sound too eager. He saw you turn around with a scowl, clearly not happy.

"Lass can take care of herself," Ghost bluntly answered. Although his eyes were betraying him, he was still glued to the scene.

When he turned to look back at you, you were saying something to the man while glaring at him. The men chuckled and said something back, and you rolled your eyes. Your face went back to face the front. Maybe you didn't mind?

Then he saw how the man's hand slithered down your back, and he felt his blood boiling. But before his hand could reach its destination, a quick blow from your elbow harshly met its own destination, connecting with the man's nose. Not only making him pull his hand away but making him fall back with a whine of pain, and now everyone’s eyes were on the scene.

"You fucking whore!" The man said loudly before he got up, clearly aggressive. But you weren't backing up, either.

"Fuck," Gaz said before he quickly hurried up to the scene, followed by Soap.

As they arrived, Gaz got in between the man and you, and Soap quickly held you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. The man's friends are also holding him back, muttering stuff along the lines of “it’s not worth it” or “it’s just a chick.”

"Put your fucking bitch on a leash," he said angrily, blood pouring from his nose. Ah, a yank.

"Haud yer wheesht," Soap barked at him from behind you, still holding you as you tried to break free from his arms.

"I’ll chop your hands off." Not even you knew you had so much pent-up anger inside you, probably looking for the right situation to explode. Johnny was struggling more than he would like behind you, feeling like he was trying to hold back a bull. Bloody hell, maybe I should do more weightlifting.

"The fuck is your problem, mate?" Gaz through gritted teeth, but before the man could scream back, you were approached by Ghost. The man's eyes widened, and he stayed quiet, all the blood draining from his face.

"L-Lieutenant." He said this while standing straight, trying to sloppily clean the blood off his face with his hand.

"You are?" Ghost asked.

"Shadow Company, sir." You heard Soap muttering 'of course' under his breath, still holding you back.

"T-This girl broke my nose!" He said, pointing at you, making your efforts to break free from Soap's grip increased.

"Yer awfy crabbit, mo leannan," Soap whispered to you, not letting you go, trying to get you to calm down.

"Only because you tried to touch her ass like a fucking mutt in heat," Ghost answered bitterly, looking down at the man who looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him.

"What’s the problem here?" Price approached the situation, fresh from the bathroom. At the sight of the captain, the man looked like he wanted to throw up.

"Graves men were getting handsy with the lass," Gaz explained, and he heard you groan in annoyance behind him.

"I can take care of him myself." You said through gritted teeth.

The same alcohol that made you giggle like a teenager is now making you thirsty for blood, as well as annoyed that they felt the need to handle the situation themselves, like you weren't an adult and a trained killing machine, just like them. All the frustration, sadness, and anger that you obediently swallowed in the first months of your new life, not wanting to worsen your already poor situation, is now coming back to bite you in the ass. You wanted to unleash every little one of your frustrations on the man in front of you.

"Mo chridhe, calm down," Soap said again. Gentle but struggling, you were using all your force to get out of his embrace.

"LT, help." He said in a strained voice as he kept trying to lock you in his arms, to which Simon rolled his eyes, but he eventually approached you. With ease, he wrapped his arm around your waist and threw you over his shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Simon," you said, now with a view of the 'Lieutenant Riley' written on his back.

"Some fresh air will do you good, flower." He said as he walked out of the bar carrying you.

This was a rather embarrassing situation, everyone was watching curiously. It was not the first time you were carried out of the bar, and certainly not your first fight. Probably not the last, either. You deep down knew that the gossip of the new girl getting into a fight and being carried away by her lieutenant was going to spread like wildfire on the base.

But, your head felt slightly woozy making you accept your fate as fresh air was starting to sound very nice.

"Sorry, Arthur," Price said with an apologetic look, looking at the bartender.

"Don't worry, John; good to see the new recruits still have some fire on them." He was hinting at the direction in which you disappeared.

"And you," Price said, turning around to the other men again. The main culprit is now holding a napkin against his nose, sitting down like a wet dog. John had a severe look on his face, making the men look more miserable. "Name. Now."

You sat in the Jeep with the door open. Ghost was standing in front of you, his mask lifted as he smoked a cigarette. You notice the blonde stubble; the concept of someone as big and intimidating as him being a blonde named Simon was quite funny, but right now you tried to focus on deep breaths, trying to calm your own anger down.

After a few minutes, you saw the Shadow Company men being pushed out of the bar by Gaz and Soap, followed by Price, who seemed to be on the phone. Your anger, far from diffusing, spikes again. You began to stand up again.

"Let them handle it." He says it in a calm tone, putting his free hand on your shoulder and making you sit again.

"I can handle it myself. My ass is the one involved, not yours," you answer, glaring up at him.

"I know you can, and as much as I would enjoy seeing you beat the shit out of them, you don't have to." He says, voice husky but surprisingly gently, looking down at you. You arched your brow at his words, and he decided to elaborate some more.

"Price is most likely calling Graves; they'll probably get a written reprimand, extra shit to do, and they will be banned from our sector on the base."

"I don't need Price to rat them out for me; I can take care of it."

"My point is that you don't have to. Listen: Despite everything, you are still on thin ice, flower. That thing is not a bracelet." He was gesturing to your ankle monitor.

"We don't give a shit if you kill them; in other circumstances, I would have gladly help you. Shadows are cunts, and they all act like mutts after a bone. But getting into a fight with people who are guests in our base is not a good view for the higher-ups, and Laswell and the Captain can only do so much in your defence." You listened attentively, his words making sense, but you still couldn't help but feel annoyed as you saw the man and his friends being escorted to their car, Price still on his call.

"Besides, you don't have to do it all yourself, you know?" He said that, and you directed your glance back to him.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to take care of yourself alone. We are a team; we take care of each other." You can't help but show a hint of surprise on your face.

"Are we?"

"Yes."

After almost four months...the bastard.

A smile slipped from your lips, and he kept looking down at you. In another context, he would be pissed at giving in, but he let you savour your victory, you deserved it.

The moment was broken as Price approached.

"Back to base, muppets," he said, opening the driver door, not before watching the car of the members of the Shadow Company leave the car park.

Soap came behind him to ruffle your hair, making you groan playfully.

"You okay, bonnie?" He asked warmly.

Gaz also arrived behind him, handing you your forgotten jacket and a can of Coke he bought you.

"Thanks, Kyle...yeah, I'm fine. Fuck... I’m sorry." A hint of embarrassment got to you as you rubbed your temples.

“None of that, bonnie. Anyone would have done the same. Not me, though; I would have kicked his balls.” Soap said, shrugging, making you chuckle.

“Not for punching him. For ruining the night.”

“Sweetheart, everything is fine. I talked to Shepherd; he’ll chew Graves ear off. For now, they’ll enjoy cleaning the showers with a toothbrush, and they’re banned from the mess hall and the gym, so you won’t see them.” You listened to Price, and you looked back at Ghost, who was giving you an ‘I told you so’ glance.

“Arthur said that you'd get a free drink next time.” Gaz said, also trying to lighten your mood.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, trying to avoid their gazes. You felt vulnerable, accepting help; it felt both terrible and surprisingly heart-warming.

The way back was actually nice, with Price telling a story from when he was a private and they had a few drinks while camping. One of them got so drunk that they made him believe there were lions in that zone, and he was scared shitless until he sober up enough to realise, they were in the German countryside.

The stories were a bit silly, but the way they were telling them was both endearing and entertaining. There was a fuzzy feeling in your stomach, and your cheeks hurt a bit because you were not accustomed to laughing and smiling this much.

next chapter: coming soon!

Thank you to the lovely people following this! <3: @no-lessthan3 , @blush-haze , @eustassh , @valkyrieunknown

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