#I had to train myself out of pointing out every mistake I made when I did piano

[loxare]

Why. Why do youtube people. Point out when they have tiny physical imperfections?

Like, Youbt on screen is talking about something and making good points and then a little bit of text will pop up like "Teehee, whoops, just noticed I have this flyaway hair, that's gonna be with us for the rest of the video, sorry about that - Editing Youbt" and sometimes they zoom in on it so it fills most of the screen and I'm just. Why.

Why.

Listen. I realize that there are dicks on the internet who will tear a person apart for having flyaway hair, or a bit of dry lip skin, or dog fur on a sleeve. I know. I understand. I know what the internet is like

But by doing this, all these people are doing is saying to the people who didn't notice, would never have noticed, and wouldn't care if they did, "Hey. Look at this. Look at it deeply. I'm concerned about it, so it's clearly something to be concerned about. Be concerned that my hair isn't picture perfect every second of the day."

Meanwhile I was just sitting there like, "Wow, this is a lot of good information about dinosaurs that I was learning and wait what was that about dog fur on the sleeve, oh fuck that's all I can think about now"

I promise. No one cares as much as you think they do. They probably didn't even notice the loose thread on your scarf, or your eyeliner being slightly uneven. They didn't until you drew attention to it

[jen-with-a-pen]

𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦

summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

word count: 6.5K

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.

If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 

Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 

You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.

When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.

Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.

After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.

You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 

With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  

Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 

Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”

The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 

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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 

“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 

“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.

You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.

Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 

“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.

It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 

The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 

“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.

“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 

Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 

“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.

You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  

“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.

Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.

“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”

“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 

Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 

You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 

You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.

The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.

“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 

“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”

White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.

He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.

“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.

His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.

You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 

With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.

“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 

“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 

“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”

He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 

“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.

“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.

“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”

He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.

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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 

There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 

Your face burned.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 

He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.

♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.

You swallowed a groan. 

“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 

“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”

“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”

“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”

Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 

“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 

You wanted to take his finger and break it.  

You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.

You doubted it was convincing.

“Fine.” 

He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 

When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.

“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“When the hell did you–”

“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.

“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 

He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.

The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 

“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.

Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.

It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 

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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”

“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 

Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–

“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 

“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 

“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.

“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 

“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.

You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”

His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 

You swallowed. “You heard me.”

One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 

Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 

“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.

“Look at me!” 

“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 

With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.

You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.

“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 

His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”

You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 

“Is that all, Sergeant?” 

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.

“You heard me.” 

The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 

“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.

“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”

Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.

“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 

And you let him.

“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.

“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 

Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 

He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart stopped.

“You’re telling me.”

Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 

Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 

Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.

Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 

He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 

You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”

“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.

“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 

“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.

“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”

He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”

“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”

“Number fuckin’ one.”

The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 

Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.

“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.

He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 

“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 

SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”

SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”

SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 

Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 

“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 

“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 

“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 

He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 

“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 

“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”

“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.

For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 

“Thanks.”

He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”

You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”

“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.

“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”

“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.

[fen-luciel]

Jealousy part 1

Part 2 here

Warnings: age gap/toxic behavior

Vernestra-Padawan reader/jedi Qimir

I'll update the tags as the story progresses, there should only be two more parts.

I'm not sure how far I'll go with certain behaviors, so leave a comment and let me know what you think <3

(This first part is to provide context, the other two will set the story in motion)

Becoming a Padawan was a lifelong dream. Of course, I was young, so my view of the world and what I would experience in the coming years was very limited. The idea of being taken under the wing of a more experienced Jedi master, learning many more techniques, the missions, the travels, all the people and aliens I could meet... I was bursting with happiness.

Not that the exercises at the temple weren't stimulating, I was glad to have made friends, to have developed a routine with them, but I was ready for something new.

So, when I was finally introduced to my future master, I was bursting with joy. I recognized her immediately, it was hard not to. Vernestra was an important member of the Order, involved with the Senate, and was known for her numerous successes. It was an honor for me to receive that position by her side.

Over the years, I had been recognized as an excellent future Padawan, with the ability to learn quickly, a strong sense of observation, and a positive and kind character that always accompanied me. I was often praised for the way I presented myself to others. In short, everyone saw a bright future for me, but I had difficulty seeing it myself. I was young and inexperienced and I believed that the important thing was to follow the rules, the rest was just a part of me, something I did naturally.

I imagine that becoming Vernestra’s Padawan was just the confirmation of that golden path everyone saw me on, but I was too caught up in the newness to really think about it.

However, I soon realized that I lost the balance I had created up to that point, I lost some friends, some simply due to distance, others were... cold towards me.

I didn't understand what had changed. I would never have accused anyone of feeling emotions like jealousy or anger towards me, we were children. Missteps were normal, and we were taught that it was right to face them and learn from them.

But if you asked around, many would have described me as someone who never made mistakes, who always responded with a gentle smile, a comforting word, a hand on the shoulder, or even just a pleasant company if you needed to vent. Perhaps that was the problem. I appeared too perfect in the eyes of others.

And yet, the Master didn’t make me feel that way. She taught me everything calmly, I followed her every step, she reprimanded me harshly, but always with care. She soon realized how much I sought validation in everything I did.

It was stronger than me, I believed I was always making a mistake, that I was in the wrong. After all, who was I to say something was right or wrong? I was just a Padawan. A child.

And anyway, it wasn’t the Jedi’s job to give answers, but rather to push people to understand for themselves.

Even though it was a concept I found difficult to grasp myself.

Anyway, that’s how I met Qimir.

He was Vernestra’s former Padawan, now promoted to Jedi Knight and independent in his duties, but he often visited us, either to seek advice from his old Master or just to ask how she was doing. I found him very sweet.

The first time I met him in person, I already knew his name. He had managed to stand out as soon as he started his duties as a Knight. Among the younger ones, there was a sense of reverence towards him even though we had never seen him in person. And besides, it was rumored that he was terribly handsome, not that it particularly interested me at the time.

I remember I was in the library with Vernestra, she had assigned me some basic readings to start my future physical training. Young ones are already taught at an early age to defend themselves and to learn various positions, but it was more about building an understanding of your Force signature, learning to trust your senses. The real training would then be individual for the student once they had a Master, so she had recommended these introductory readings on the various forms of combat and their use.

Those were afternoons I remembered with particular affection. Sitting in silence, she would take a more suitable book or bring her work documents on her datapad, and the hours would pass in an instant. Sometimes, I would glance at her to see what she was doing. She noticed every time, smiled slightly, and gently scolded me, telling me to return to my tasks.

I was happy. I felt cared for, appreciated, but not in the cold manner of a teacher with their student. It was a feeling I didn’t quite know how to place in my heart, and it worried me a bit, but I kept my doubts for another day.

On one of those quiet afternoons, I met Qimir. The room was particularly deserted that day, so the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard clearly along the shelves. Thinking it was the librarian, I didn’t pay much attention and remained with my nose buried in the book. Even when he stopped in front of our table I didn’t pay attention. Then, a deep male voice I didn’t recognize spoke Vernestra’s name.

Curiosity flared up in an instant, and as the two began a light conversation next to me, I slowly raised my gaze, the book almost serving as a shield, my hair partly covering my eyes. In front of us stood a young man in his twenties, dressed in the classic brown Jedi Knight attire, speaking casually to Vernestra. His slightly long, smooth hair, a light smile, and dark eyes framed by a chiseled jaw.

It was the first time I saw him. And the first time my heart beat so fast in my chest.

I didn’t know if it was because he was undeniably a handsome guy. I had never been too interested in that sort of thing, and anyway, it was forbidden for Jedi to have too impure thoughts. It was more... his aura. The amused smile but attentive eyes, the neat but relaxed posture... he seemed to shine with his own light. It was what I felt when I saw a member of the council, when I glimpsed Master Yoda in the corridors, reverence, respect, a bit of fear.

He was captivating, and he seemed to be aware of it.

I didn’t even realize that I had been staring at him longer than I should have. He noticed the insistent gaze on him. I must have looked quite ridiculous, a young girl hiding behind a book while staring at the great Jedi Knight, but the smile he gave me right after almost took my breath away as I blushed, perhaps for the first time in my life.

“And you must be the new Padawan who took my place. Nice to meet you, I’m Qimir” he said, extending a hand, and after casting a nervous glance at Vernestra, who was smiling at me, I hugged the book to my chest with one arm, my palm tingling, unsure whether to return the handshake.

Another inner turmoil came with that first touch. His hands had long, slender fingers, marked by numerous calluses, probably from gripping the lightsaber or the various missions he faced. It was just another reason why I started to admire him. I could see all the dots connecting in this figure that represented everything I wanted to become. A Jedi. A reference point for those in need.

I said my name in a low, timid voice, and he leaned towards me with a slight frown “Such a small voice, are you always like this, or am I making you nervous?” he joked, but I bit my lip, not knowing what to reply, I pulled my hand away, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he began to gently rub my knuckles with his thumb.

“Leave her alone, Qimir. She’s shy, don’t start with your teasing” Vernestra scolded him, at which he let go. I hid my hand under the table, clenching it into a fist, my skin tingling.

“Sorry, sorry. It must be a relief for you to have someone like this after me” she sighed but didn’t deny it either, at which I let out a smile and he, noticing, winked at me.

That was the first time I had dealings with him. But soon I began to see him everywhere. When he wasn’t on a mission, he stayed around the temple, so I encountered him in the corridors, in the halls, in the meditation room, and he always had a kind smile for me.

He made me feel special even though I knew it was a selfish feeling. When I managed to study with other Padawans in the library or practiced in the courtyard, he always stopped by to give me a nod. My friends were jealous, but I wasn’t really offended. Qimir was... kind.

It was like seeing the Force alive and pulsing around him. It was impossible not to look at him, not to wish that he would glance at you even just once.

Everyone wanted to be like him. Charismatic. Confident. Everyone wanted to be his friend.

One of the first missions I did with Master Vernestra was another point of contact. Being young, I wasn’t yet allowed in particularly dangerous scenarios, not to mention that if there was one thing I was lacking in, it was combat. I followed the Master almost everywhere, political life was just as important in a Jedi’s path, and I had to understand the mechanics early on for when I would be older, even though they were often more moments of leisure.

The meetings lasted hours, often discussing places, people, and things I knew nothing about. I tried to stay focused, but it was really difficult, and even Vernestra thought I shouldn’t strain myself too much, so she let me roam around, maybe continue studying, or even just take a little break.

One day, ready to depart, we were loading the luggage onto the ship. We were going to spend a few days on Hoth, and I was incredibly excited since I had never experienced a planet with that kind of climate before. As I was lost in my thoughts, a light knock interrupted me. At the foot of the ramp, Qimir gave me a half-smile "Is there room for me too?" I was still intimidated by his presence since we had never really spoken before. I opened my mouth several times, glancing around awkwardly, not sure if he was teasing me or if I was too stupid to understand what he meant.

"I hope you didn’t bring your usual baggage" Vernestra said behind me, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked at her, confused "Excuse me Master, is Qimir coming with us?" I struggled even to pronounce his name, it felt like an insult to do so, as if I didn’t have enough experience to earn such a privilege.

"What, you don't want me around?" he smiled as he walked up the ramp. I squirmed uncomfortably, realizing the embarrassing situation I had caused "N-no, I didn’t mean that—" He smiled even more, but Vernestra intervened again, scolding him "Give her some space Qimir."

The plan was simple: it was a diplomatic mission, and Qimir had joined us to study for a few days with his former master. I didn’t know exactly what he needed, but he wanted her advice. We left a few minutes later, and I avoided the control room like the plague. I only entered once to ask how much longer it would take, burning alive under Qimir’s gaze, then I shut myself in the bedroom and did my homework.

Hoth was as beautiful as it was freezing. But it was worth it; I had never seen such an immense expanse of white, the ground soft underfoot from the snow, the ice mountains, creatures I had never seen before. Vernestra stopped to talk to some locals, and I approached the enormous door overlooking the ice field. I wondered if the entire planet was like this. Did anyone live in those isolated areas? How could anyone survive in such a harsh climate?

A gloved hand rested on my back, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I turned, expecting to see my master, but under the hood, it was Qimir’s dark eyes that looked at me with a gentle smile on his face.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" he asked before turning back to look at the white expanse before us. I nodded hesitantly. Nervous about speaking to him, I bit my lip but managed to gather the courage "Do you know... if there’s anyone who lives in these lands?" He looked at me, puzzled, and I quickly corrected myself "I mean... besides the local species. Or aliens accustomed to these temperatures. Do you think others could live in a place like this?" He let out a small amused puff, "Well, we actually know for sure. There are many bandits or pirates hiding in these lands. Mainly to hide something, you know, it’s not worth sending search teams into snowstorms for a single man" he explained.

I made a sound of acknowledgment, but he continued "And if we’re talking about others... I think so. Someone who likes solitude or seeks peace. It seems like a good place not to be found" At that point, I turned toward him "Completely alone? It seems..." sad. But I was afraid to say it out loud, sadness wasn’t one of those emotions a Jedi should typically feel, but it felt natural to feel melancholy at the thought of people wanting to lose themselves in nothingness, to never be found again.

"Sad?" he seemed to read my mind "You see, emotions are very complicated to recognize. What might seem sad to you might mean peace to others. As Jedi, we often take many emotions for granted, but we often forget to give them context" I listened, hanging on his every word.

The conversation seemed... strange in some way. It made sense. Of course it did, he was older than me, had more experience in the field, and knew what he was talking about. I should have just nodded and thanked him for sharing those words.

I ignored the burning sensation I felt and thanked him in a faint voice It felt silly to do so, but it was the least I could do.

He smiled at me and gently took my hand "Let’s go, we need to warm up a bit. Trust me, in two more minutes, you won’t be able to feel the tip of your nose" he joked. I stifled a giggle and let him lead me inside toward the rooms. I didn’t know if it was because we were both wearing gloves or because of the conversation we had just had, but I didn’t feel uncomfortable being held by the hand.

A couple of days later, I was alone in one of the bases scattered across the ice. Vernestra was in a meeting and had forbidden me from attending due to the sensitivity of some of the information that would be exchanged. The problem was that these places weren’t particularly full of people or things to do. Yes, there was a bar area, but after the third cup of hot chocolate, I was afraid of pushing my stomach to the limit, so I stayed at the entrance, my feet in a pile of snow as I doodled or made small, questionable-looking statues.

I was so engrossed in the crooked little house I was shaping out of the ice that I didn’t notice the snowball being thrown in my direction.

I let out a startled yelp when it hit the hood on my head. I spun around just in time to see Qimir burst into laughter "Why did you do that?!" I stood up quickly, brushing the snow off my head.

"You looked so bored, I woke you up, didn’t I?" he chuckled.

I glared at him with a pout while he continued to laugh, so I decided to get revenge.

I bent down to grab a pile of snow, quickly making two balls. I threw the first one, but he easily dodged it.

He turned with an arrogant smile, ready to boast when the second one hit him square in the face.

I burst into laughter. He wiped the snow from his nose, his smile gone before bending down to grab more snow.

I shouted his name, realizing immediately what he was about to do, and started running through the snow with him on my heels. We didn’t even have time to make proper snowballs, we just grabbed the snow in our hands, compacted it as best we could, and threw it at each other in a never-ending war. Sometimes I noticed people giving us amused looks as they arrived or departed from the base, but I didn’t care, I was so happy that, for the first time, I didn’t even care what people thought of me.

An hour later, Vernestra called us back, giving us a confused look. She sighed and sent us to dry off. I felt a bit embarrassed at that moment, and I apologized for the childish behavior, but she smiled at me and assured me there was nothing wrong with what we had done.

In the end I took a full shower someone had left dinner on my bed, considering how long I had been under the hot water. I ate and, putting on one of the heavy local pajamas, decided to step out into the hallway to ask the Master what we would be doing the next day. I knew she wasn’t in bed yet, based on her nightly habits.

I walked down the hallway on the second floor, where the various guest rooms were located, when I noticed that her door was already open.

I approached slowly and immediately recognized Qimir’s voice.

"I’m just saying, if we block the main routes, they’d be forced to come out into the open" With a sense of curiosity, I pressed myself against the wall to peek into the room. The two were looking at an old map spread out on the table.

"I agree, but it would take too many resources, and we don’t know the exact times or routes. It would take a lot of time" she replied wearily. Qimir, standing next to her, bit his lip before flashing one of his smiles, "Or... we could sneak in"

She sighed again "The point is the same. We don’t have the resources—"

"I’ll go in myself. I’ll cut the power right under their noses, and—" She interrupted him with a wave of her hand.

"Do you realize what you’re saying? Sneaking in like a thief, and then what? Even if I let you do it, they could still escape, and..." He circled the desk, positioning himself in front of her, his back to me, so I barely heard what he said "No one said we need them alive—"

A sudden thud made me jump. I pressed my hands to my mouth, paralyzed, afraid they had heard me "No. Stop this nonsense, Qimir."

I don’t know what they said after that, I was too busy slipping back into my room, the conversation I had just overheard spinning in my head.

Sometimes, as a Jedi, you had to make drastic choices, right?

Or at least, it seemed that way.

I tried to forget about it and went to sleep.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi, I wanna know if you take requests? If you do, I would like I comfort Blade please, where he comforts reader who constantly regrets and blames themselves for everything, even the pettiest things

Blade knew something was wrong, he wasn’t stupid, especially not when it came to you and your tendencies to blame yourself for things that you had little to no control over.

You even blamed yourself for the smallest things and he hates it because someone, somewhere must’ve messed with you so badly to the point where you couldn’t go a single day without blaming yourself for something minute.

If Blade were to ever come across that person, he’d make them pay for what they did to you tenfold. But until then he would go out of his way to comfort you and reassure you that you’re not as much of a fuck up as you’ve lead yourself to believe.

Which leads us to the moment where Blade found you in your room, sat upon your bed, silently sobbing into your hands and just generally looking distraught.

He sighs and walks into your room, his heavy footsteps causing you to freeze and become hyperaware of the fact that your moment of vulnerability has been had witnessed by another person, and just as he then makes himself comfortable on the bed next to you he asks. ‘What’s wrong? Why the waterworks?’ The way the words left his mouth some would consider uncharacteristic of him, but then again what did they know about him that wasn’t something that was rehashed on the news.

You shrug, sniffling as you wiped the tears from your eyes aggressively with the sleeve of your shirt. ‘Just reminding myself of how much of a fuck up I am compared to everyone else.’ You admitted with a weak laugh as though what you just said was something to laugh at, but Blade wasn’t laughing, just looking at you with his deadpan face.

You chuckled humourlessly as you fisted your jeans to disguise your internal torment. ‘I don’t expect you to understand because unlike me, you don’t make mistakes.’ You added apathetically and Blade knew this train of thought shouldn’t be allowed to continue, for it was ruining you right before his eyes and he hated it. ‘And what makes you think that you’re a so called fuck up?’ Blade said. ‘Because to me you’re anything other then a fuck up, yes we all make mistakes, but that shouldn’t warrant you torturing yourself over it day in day out when everyone else has all but forgotten.’ He concludes.

‘I can’t do anything right. Not a single thing.’ You began. ‘I can’t socialise with other people like I’m suppose to-‘

‘I’ve seen you socialise and I think you do it just fine.’ Blade interrupts. ‘You held an hour long conversation with both a Halovian and a Foxian without stopping. So that’s obviously false.’

‘I can’t talk without them commenting on the fact that I speak as though I’m in the middle of a sentence.’ You rebutted.

Blade shrugs. ‘Everyone’s a judgemental hypocrite, it’s best to remember that all sentient beings are born with equal parts flaws as they are perfections.’ He then tips your chin up to look at him in the eyes. ‘There’s no such thing as an entirely perfect person because if there was, they’d be the most flawed out of all of us, for they lack the ability to recognise their own imperfections in the same way they recognise everyone else’s.’

‘I can’t tie my shoes perfectly without them coming undone five minutes later.’ You then said.

‘There’s a majority of people who just can’t tie their shoes no matter what, whether it be from trauma or otherwise but you don’t see them shaming themselves for it.’ Blade responded, trying to make you see that for every mistake you made wasn’t something you should take as personally as you have, however it feels as though the more he tries to make you see reason it only heightens your need to prove to him that you were indeed a fuck up.

So just be for you were about to say something else that you were an apparent fuck up about, Blade pulled you against him and held you there as he soothingly rubs his hand up and down your back, rendering you speechless. ‘I don’t know why you’re so hellbent on trying to prove that you’re a fuck up.’ Blade began as he felt you begin to relax under his touch. ‘You’re not and I will keep telling you this for as long as you need me to because you don’t deserve to beat yourself up over everything like you’re meant to be perfect at it. I don’t know who told you that you had to be perfect at everything first try, but it’s a load of fucking bullshit and I need you to realise that.’

‘But-‘ you tried to pull yourself away from his grasp, thinking that you weren’t deserving of being comforted, especially when that comfort came from Balde of all people. For you honestly didn’t believe that he would put up with you and your mistakes at all, it wasn’t fair on him; However Blade thinks it was unfair on you to think that even putting on a mismatched pair of socks was entirely your fault and should constantly be reminded of it for the rest of the week.

‘No.’ Blade stopped you before you could start. ‘You’re not meant to get everything right. Practice makes perfect is a saying for a reason because it doesn’t matter how many mistakes you make, you always get better with each attempt.’ He pulled back enough to look you in the eyes for what he says next. ‘You make mistakes, you fail, you fall but do you know what I want you to do when you feel the desire to blame yourself and avoid trying again?’

‘What?’ You asked meekly as you gripped onto him tightly.

‘Get back up.’ He said, pressing his forehead against yours. ‘Get back up and try again, try as many times as you need until you’ve mastered it. It doesn’t have to be perfect, nobody’s asking that of you, it just has to be what you’re happiest with. Don’t reduce your self worth to what others think of you and don’t let the voices in here,’ Blade then gently taps a finger to your temple, ‘dictate your self worth either. Okay?’

‘I’ll try.’ You whispered, smiling softly at him as you allowed for Blade’s words of wisdom sink in rather than fight them off.

Blade smiles back as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘That’s all I can ask for.’ He says against your skin, happy that you were ready to take a chance on yourself.

[olivia2arsenal]

Golden Retriever || Alessia Russo x Kai Duke! Fictional Character

a/n: most of my fics wrote on here will link to either my book or a character in the book

warnings: none!

alessia’s font

kais font

——————

it was no secret around the arsenal ground that i wasn’t much of a hugger

i hid away from any sort of physical contact, the most i was going to allow was a quick handshake

the girls used this to there advantage’s, knowing how to get me to shut up or get under my skin by just hugging me

seeing which one could hug me longest, trying to see who would get me to hug them first

and when i did finally hug someone i was basically a brick wall, stiff as hell

there was no reason why i was like this, i had the best upbringing and never had any problems when i was younger which caused me to hide away from physical contact

it was just a thing i had been like my entire life, my mum constantly complaining about it when i was younger, teasing me about it

if i felt like someone really really needed a hug of course i would give them it but it would have to be an absolute must

that’s why it came to a surprise when a new signing joined our club and we clicked straight away

alessia russo

how do i describe less?

basically the complete opposite to me, loves hugs and loves giving them out

as less and i got closer with each other, she started to hug me a lot more

something i actually enjoyed

every morning less would come over to my car and pull me into a hug, and surprisingly it put me in a great mood for the day

of course i’d never admit that i actually loved alessia’s hugs though

“so how’s hugging the brick wall?” leah teased as i sat at a table with beth and leah

“what?” i said confused

“who’s the brick wall?” i added, beth and leah giggling

“kai” beth said eventually

“how is she a brick wall?” i asked confused, kai was anything but a brick wall, she was a perfect hugger- the right amount of softness and protection

“how is she not” leah scoffed playfully

i looked at the two confused

“what you think she’s not?” beth asked as they both became more serious

“yeah, she’s a great hugger” i said confused

“what” leah said shocked

“she’s a brick wall to us” beth laughed

“she can’t be that bad surely” i laughed, both of them giving me a pointed look

—————

i watched as leah walked over to kai in the changing rooms, wrapping her arms around kai

“ugh leah get off” she huffed as she tried to push leah off her

“just give me a hug kai” leah complained into her shoulder

“fuckinell” she huffed before slowly wrapping her arms around leah awkwardly

“is she like this normally?” i asked as beth sat next to me

“every single time mate” beth laughed as i looked at her stunned

“your the lucky one lessi” beth teased as leah walked back over

“fuck me, why is it like asking a child to do homework when asking her for a hug” leah sighed as she plonked herself down next to me

“that’s strange, she’s always fine with me hugging her” i shrugged my shoulders, missing the look shared between beth and leah

“hey” kai said as she walked over to us, standing in front of me

“hey” i smiled up at her

“ready to go out for training” she asked as she held her hand out for me, which i took and pulled myself up

kai wrapped her arm around my shoulder as we walked side by side out to the training pitch, my hand holding onto hers as we walked

little did i know what the two blondes were planning behind our backs…

——————

“alessia!” beth shouted as i missed a shot, shaking her head as she walked away from me

i looked down embarrassed with myself as i walked back to my position, not missing the shoulder barge beth received from kai

just from beth’s comment my whole play went downhill, trying to take defenders on was impossible, trying to make a pass was like trying to shot with your weak foot

i heard leah and beth constantly scoff when around me or laugh when i made a mistake

it was taking a toll on me and affecting me

eventually jonas ended training, something i couldn’t wait for

i went back into the changing rooms, not speaking to anyone and getting changed for lunch

i felt a hand slide along the lower half of my back

“you okay?” kai asked softly as her hand rested on my hip, i stood up and allowed her to hold me

pushing myself back into her and pulling her arm closer around me

i nodded my head against her shoulder, feeling her lean her head closer to my neck

“you sure?” she asked again, her breath fanning over my neck making goosebumps rise

“mhm” i mumbled out, giving her a tight lipped smile

she squeezed my hip gently before pulling away and making a space between us

“i’ll meet you in the canteen” i said as i walked away from her, needing a minute from it all

i walked into the canteen, grabbing some food and sitting down on an empty table

beth and leah following after me, i sighed quietly as they sat next to me

“alright?” i asked as i looked up from my food, both girls nodding their heads as they got into a conversation

i had just nearly finished my food when i got brought into the conversation

“had a shit training session today alessia” beth said bluntly

“cheers beth” i mumbled back

“never seen you play so shit” leah laughed as i looked up at her, nodding my head slowly at her

“don’t think you’ll start this weekend after that performance” beth continued, i had heard enough from the two of them and stood up and walked out of the canteen

i was so in my head i didn’t realise i was about to walk into someone

i bumped into them and immediately started to apologise as i looked up at them

once i saw it was kai i immediately wrapped my arms around her and dug my head into her neck

“what’s up less” i asked softly as i ran my hand up and down her back

“did i play shit in training?” alessia ignored my question

“what? no you didn’t why?” i said confused, less had a good training session

“because leah and beth keep making comments about my training session” less mumbled into my neck

“saying what?” i asked calmly, hand still rubbing up and down her back

“saying i won’t be starting this weekends match or laughing everytime i made a mistake in training” less said, anger rising as i heard how they had treated her

just as she finished saying that leah and beth walked out into the hall

“what the fuck do you two think your playing at?” i snapped at the two, less still wrapped up in my arms

“what” leah said acting innocent

“making comments like that to less, your the vice captain for fuck sake leah” i snapped

both of them looking at each other, small smiles on their faces

“what the fuck are you smiling about?” i said beyond angry as i felt alessia run her hand up and down my chest trying to calm me

“our plan worked” beth shrugged

“what plan” i said impatiently

“this” leah nodded at me and alessia

i froze, my hand that was running up and down alessia’s back stopped

i took a few steps back from alessia, looking between her and the two girls a few feet in front of us

“what this was all a set up between you three” i scoffed as i turned and walked away

“kai!” alessia called out as i shook my head and walked away

“shit alessia, we didn’t think it was gonna end up this way” leah said as she tried to apologise, i didn’t even process it in my head before i walked off towards kai

i found kai in the changing rooms, head in her hands as she sat in her cubby

her head whipped up as she heard the door open, finding out it was me and standing up to try and walk away

as she tired to walk past me i placed my hand on her wrist, which she was quick to move away

“kai” i said softly as she stopped all her movements, eyes still not meeting mine though

“less i thought i could trust you, i don’t like physical contact but your the only one who i like hugging” kai said quietly

“and now to find out it was a set up, just like what the other girls do and try to see who can hug me longest” she added as her eyes finally met mine

“kai” i whispered, seeing nothing but hurt in her eyes

“you’ve got this all wrong” i added as i reached down for her hand, which she allowed

even with all the thoughts playing on her mind, thinking this was all a set up, she still allowed me to hold her hand

“i didn’t know anything about this ‘set up’. leah and beth planned it all” i said as i watched her eye fall to our hands

“you didn’t have any involvement in the set up?” kai asked quietly, her thumb brushing against my hand and eyes still not meeting mine

“i had no clue kai” i reassured her

her eyes moved up to mine, her taking a minute to try and find a hint of my lying in them

i leaned up and placed my hand on her cheek, her hand following to my hip and pulling me closer to her

our foreheads rested against each other

“you sure?” i asked her, feeling her nod her head against mine

and with that i pushed my lips against hers, it was soft and reassuring

we pulled apart after a little while, our foreheads resting against each other again

“please don’t hurt me less” she whispered, my heart crumbling at her words

“i promise i’ll never hurt you kai” i whispered as i dug my head into her neck, wrapping my arms tighter around her as hers did the same around my body…

[copperbadge]

Hello, Mr. Badge, I seem to remember that you once posted about your processes and systems for staying organized in life with Excel spreadsheets etc. I’ve been struggling a lot with depression and executive dysfunction issues and don’t want it to impact my work.

Do you use the same processes at work? I get overwhelmed with the amount of documentation we have and the exceptions to the rules in our processes.

I'm so sorry you're struggling! It's really rough, and the more complicated the task feels, the more fraught it seems, the harder it is to even get a start. I feel that hard.

As for organizing work like my home life....well, it's sort of the same. I don't make a strong distinction between life and work simply because a lot of what needs organizing in my life IS my work, so it's tough to talk about them separately.

For example, I use Google Tasks to build a to-do list each day, but that to-do list starts with "stuff I'll do before work" then "shower" then all my work stuff, then "evening" and then all the stuff to do after work, ending with "7pm chores" (because I have a lot of stuff to do right around 7pm, which I need to post about elsewhere). Then the stuff I've pushed off to next day is below that, and that just bumps up the next morning. What's important isn't really how I keep the list, but that I keep it in a way that is constantly accessible, and I've trained myself to 1. put everything on it, even stuff like "grocery shop" and 2. check it whenever I feel lost. I don't find google calendars very helpful, however, so while work makes me use one for meetings, everything else goes on a calendar I made in Google Sheets that I'm just super used to by now.

It sounds like you're having a fairly specific issue, which may not even be related to your mental health (though assuredly the mental health issues aren't helping). If you have a lot of confusing documentation and exceptions in the stuff you do at work, that can be legit stressful even for someone who isn't dealing with other stuff, so I just want you to know that this may not only be a You Problem. My problem is usually the opposite, in that I'm often the first person doing something, or the only person who's done it in a while, so there's no documentation at all. But when I do have documentation I often will simply rewrite it.

After all, just because you have a handbook doesn't mean you have to use it. You can copy it over into another document and make yourself a step-by-step guide and/or a checklist. Like, I do our holiday cards every year, and my "HOLIDAY CARDS" document says "Here's the first thing you do, here's the second, do this before going past that, check this before asking for that". Literally at one point the document says "Stop. Before you go any further, do this step. Even if you don't understand why, do this step" because in the past I've disregarded that instruction ("Why on earth would I do it this way?") and lived to regret it.

Making the guide really, really sucks. Often it will take me four or five passes at a project before my guide is comprehensive (this is my fifth year doing the holiday card project and the document still has some steps missing at the end). But once you have it, it's invaluable, and often in the past I've found other people want my guides because they're fairly clear and precise about what needs doing when. For example, you might say, "Open the file and move column B to in front of column A. NOTE: THERE IS ONE EXCEPTION, THIS IS THE EXCEPTION." Or "Once you've saved the file, save a second copy to your backup folder so you can go back to it if you delete something you shouldn't. Stop and check: is this file from before or after October? If after, remember, you have to also rename it." If you find that there's a mistake you make frequently, figure out what would stop you from making it and add that in.

(We had a guy at work whose last name was VERY long and Italian, and so when I was working phones he got a special entry in the directory document I made -- the first line was all his directory info and the second line was just the phonetic pronunciation of his last name. He found out, which I had never intended him to do, and lost his shit laughing. "No wonder you're the only one who gets it right!")

So my recommendation to you is to create your own handbook, your own templates, and your own way of doing things and just slip that back into the system you have at work. Draw a diagram by hand if you need a flow chart. My approach to all my organizational issues has always been "What would make me do this correctly / prevent me from doing that thing wrong / remind me what to do / make it easier for me to start".

I think of this nowadays as the "Take the cupboard doors off" school of organizing, because to really make full use of my kitchen in a way that I liked, I had to take some of the cupboard doors off. It looks messier and kind of cheap, but it's actually a much more organized system now, and who's in my kitchen other than me?

[cmncisspnandmore]

Troublesome feelings

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Reader

Warnings; Mentions of depression, sad, mentions of not eating.

Summary: Life when simon is away can be hard.

Beta Reader:

A/N: Hi, i wrote this during a really dark place. Its probably not that good but I needed it so I wrote it. In case someone else needs it too. Its unedited, and not beta read, so if there are mistakes im sorry. Honestly im just proud of myself for posting this.

The darkness that settled over the apartment was similar to the darkness that currently occupied every corner of your mind. The kind of darkness that made it hard to breathe, or move. The kind of darkness that caused tears to prick in your eyes but never fall. Because even crying at this point was too much effort. Everything was too much and not enough at the same time.

So you laid on the plush gray couch in the living room, the room void of all light except the small glow from the clock on the entertainment center. The only sounds were the neighbors, going about their days. Completely unaware of you being locked in your own personal hell. 

The clock blinks; 3:32pm, it had been hours since you moved. Almost an entire day since you had anything to eat or drink. The hunger had subsided a while ago, now nausea swirled in your gut. Making even the thought of food repulsive, not that you had any intention of getting up at all. You would gladly rot on this couch for the rest of your life if you could. 

You stare blankly at the light gray wall, the paint slightly chipped from the furniture banging up against it when you and Simon moved in.

You and Simon had been dating for almost a year when he asked you to move in with him, explaining that he never really used his apartment anyways. Between being away on a mission and training he was basically paying for a place to hold his furniture. You broke your lease on your flat and moved into Simons a month later. His apartment was pretty bare when you first moved in, only the essentials, a few dishes, a bed, a small uncomfortable couch and a kitchen table that looked like it had seen better days.

Simon had groaned when you made him go furniture shopping the first time, but he never argued with the choices you made. He would give you a nod of approval over the big items like the couch, and new kitchen table. But he allowed you to pick out all the other decor, even down to the throw pillows for the bed he didn't understand. The night the couch was delivered the delivery people didn't bring it into the apartment, they left it on the side of the road for you to figure out. So when you called Simon who was on his way home from the gym and told him about what happened he laughed. Then the two of you struggled to get the large item up the flight of stairs and into the new living room. It had gone fairly well until at some point the couch leg scraped against the wall leaving a white scratch on the light gray wall.

Now the scratch was nothing more than a reminder that 90% of the time you were alone here. Simon has been on missions more and more recently, leaving you alone in the apartment. Leaving you with your thoughts.

The same thoughts that often told you that the world was better off without you. 

That Simon was better off without you.

It was those thoughts that led you here. 

Laying on the couch, staring off into space.

You pull the throw blanket up over your head, blocking out the light of the clock. Cloaking you in complete darkness, the air under the blanket quickly becomes heavy and hot. Your lungs struggle to take in full breaths of the stifling air but you don't move. Letting the burn overtake everything else you were feeling.

This is how Simon found you when he came in a little after 5am. He was exhausted, his gear felt 100 pounds heavier than normal. After almost 3 months in the field, with little to no sleep every night, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed with you. He wanted to pull you close to his chest, feel your soft skin against his. He drops his bag at the door and pulls off his tactical vest and drops it onto the empty kitchen counter. 

He pulls his handgun out of the holster and emptied the chamber and removes the magazine before he opens the hallway closet. He unlocks the safe in the bottom of the closet and places it inside. Once it's safely away in the safe, he unties his boots, and pulls off his skull balaclava before tossing it onto the counter. 

“Love?” He calls softly as he steps into the living room and sees you laying on the couch under the blankets. He comes to sit at what he hopes is your feet and gently tugs the blanket from your head. His hands drag across the soft material, as he slowly reveals your face. You looked as exhausted as he felt. 

“Lovie? Are you okay?” Simon's voice is soft as he reaches out and brushes some of your hair away from your face.

“How long are you home for?” You mumble, your voice is hoarse from the lack of use over the last few days. 

“A while.. Why?” Simon asks, his hands coming to rest on your hip, his fingers squeezing lightly.

“Are you sure? Or are you going to randomly be called away in the middle of the night without explanation, or contact for 3 months?” you whisper and Simon sighs softly.

“Baby, you know I have to go when they call. It’s part of my job, I'm sorry I wasn't able to contact you.. It was a need to know mission.. If i could have called you i would’ve… trust me hearing your voice would have been like a dream come true over hearing MacTavish’s loud mouth.” Simon leans back against the couch, his arm draped over the top as he watches you carefully. 

You let out a shaky breath, “I'm drowning here Simon…” 

“What do you mean love?” He asks, his brow laced with concern.

“I feel like I'm underwater, and no matter how hard I swim I can't get to the surface. Every time I get close it feels like something is waiting to just drag me right back down to the bottom. I’ve been laying here for days, barely moving because it feels like too much. Breathing is too much…” Your eyes fill with tears as you look at him, even in the terrible lighting he was still breathtakingly beautiful. 

You told him once he looked like an angel, and Simon had laughed, really laughed. He told you that angels didn't have scars like his. But you argued with him about it, saying that there was no way that they didn't have some sort of scars. Especially when they spent eternity protecting humans. Simon had sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to win that argument any time soon. 

“Why haven't you told me sooner?” Simon asks, as he fully pulls the blanket off you, and reaches under you and pulls you into his lap. He settles you on his lap, his arms wrapped around your middle, your head tucked under his chin.

“Because I didn't want you to worry while you were in the field,” 

“Of course I'm going to worry about you, I always worry about you. I just wish you told me you were feeling like this beforehand. I mean, Baby, it would kill me if something happened when I wasn't here…” SImons hands rub small circles on your waist.

“I need help Si..” you whisper, your throat tight with emotion.

“Then we’ll get you some help, Love. Okay? We’ll get you some help.” 

“Simon?” Your voice cracks.

“Yes Lovie?”

“I love you..” 

“I love you too, how about we go take a hot shower, and then make something to eat, and then we can take a long nap. And when we wake up we can call around and find you a doctor or someone to talk to, okay?” Simon pulls you impossibly closer.

“Okay..” you whisper and with that Simon puts his hands under your thighs and lifts you, walking you both towards the bathroom. He sets you down on the bathroom counter before he turns towards the shower. You watch as he adjusts the water to the right temperature then comes over, pulling his black shirt off in one smooth movement. His chest and abs are a rippling wall of muscle. If you were feeling better you would have jumped him right then and there. But even now, with Simon standing in front of you wearing his black jeans slung low on his hips. The only thoughts that flooded your brain was that this was the first shower you’d be taking in almost a week.

“Arms up, Baby,” Simon whispers, tugging at the bottom of the shirt you were wearing. You reluctantly put your arms up and Simon pulls your shirt off and unclasps your bra. Before he grabs your hips and pulls you off the counter, before he slides your shorts down. Once you are completely naked he guides you into the shower with a hand on your lower back. You step into the hot water and let it wash over you.

After a few moments Simon's large frame steps into the shower behind you, out of the corner of your eye you see him reach for the various soaps you have on the shelf. He grabs your shampoo and starts to massage it into your hair. He spends time rinsing your hair and then lathers a washcloth and spends more time than you do, making sure you’re thoroughly scrubbed. You stand under the hot stream as Simon makes quick work of washing himself before he turns off the water and grabs two towels. 

He wraps one around you and then wraps the second around his waist. Once you both are out of the shower he dries off quickly changing into a pair of black sweatpants and one his signature black hoodies. You start to dry yourself off, and change into a pair of your own sweatpants, and one of Simons’ black hoodies. 

Simon’s large hand rests on your lower back as he guides you into the kitchen towards the table where he pulls out a chair for you. As you take a seat you watch Simon walk over to the fridge and the cabinets, opening them before he turns to you.

“What do you want to eat?” He asks quietly, his hands resting on the back of the chair opposite of you.

“Something small… Toast? And maybe some blueberry tea?” You ask.

Simon gives you a small nod before going about fixing you something to eat, your attention turns to the window in the kitchen. The sun is starting to rise, the sky painted an orangey pink, the wispy clouds making it look like someone painted the scene. Why couldn't you just feel better? You felt guilty having Simon take care of you like this. You should be able to shower yourself, and make your own food. But the thought of even trying to do those things makes you want to curl back up on the couch. Hide away under the blankets again and never come out. 

Simon startles you when he places the plate of toast and cup of blueberry tea down in front of you. You had been lost in your thoughts and hadn’t heard him come over to the table. He sits across from you, his own breakfast in front of him, his plate piled with toast, and fruit. A large mug of black tea next to him. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, as you take a few bites of the toast.

“Of course, love.” 

You both sit in silence as you eat, it takes you longer to eat than Simon, his plate sits empty on the table as he sips his drink. His large hands covered most of the mug, obscuring the skull face pattern on it. You glance down at your half eaten toast and partially empty tea before pushing the dishes away, your stomach turning from finally eating after a few days.

“You done?” Simon asks, reaching for the dishes and stacking them on top  of each other.

“Yeah.. Sorry.. I just.. I can't eat anymore,” you whisper, looking down at your folded hands in your lap.

“It's okay, I'm proud of you for eating what you could,” he smiles as he clears the dishes.

Simon walks over to you after putting the dishes in the sink and takes your hand, his brown eyes soft as he smiles at you. “Let's go take a nap, yeah?” 

You give him a small nod as he pulls you to your feet and walks with you into the bedroom. He climbs into the bed under the covers and pulls them back for you, patting the bed next to him. You carefully climb in and he pulls you against him. His chest to your back, his head resting in the space behind your shoulder as he anchors his arm around your waist. You close your eyes, matching your breathing to his, and soon you both start to drift off. For the first time in what seems like forever, the world doesn't seem quite as dark. 

[isabeauwolf]

Alright.

Since it's been days since we've gotten to see our beloved birdman Kai Chisaki one more time in the manga, we've all let our feelings out about his ending, either you hated it or not. Felts depressed and sad.

I gotta ask all of my fellow Overhaul, Kai Chisaki stans and fans: What made you pick Overhaul as your favorite character/ Villain in MHA?

What made him draw you in?

Fascinate you?

Fall for him so hard, he drew you away from your previous anime/manga husband or wifu?

Where you a manga or anime only before his handsome villainous yakuza birdman came into your life?

Was it is character design? Mannerisms? His powerful quirk? His plan to erase quirks, his serum and determination to restore the Shie Hassaikai into power? His godly voice by both Kenjiro Tsuda and Kellen Goff?

(Pst, honestly, I love it all ;) His man's got my heart is a death grip; even if, he's competing with Trafalgar Law for my attention and affection, and now Dabi.)

Instead of throwing around all the hate surrounding this man. Let's send him off with a bang! Love, support, the whole she-bang, even if, you still high disagree with his actions towards Pops and Eri.

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

(If every seems out of order or all over the place, I'm sorry! Please be, patient with me, and thank you!)

I've give my personal thoughts on Kai Chisaki, Overhaul. My yakuza birdman husband here! (huge breakdown/ summary, rant about this man; spoilers ahead!) Not like, I haven't been doing that the whole time, I've been on here XD I've talked with other Overhaul/Kai stans and fans on here, giving my two cents, which I love and appreciate to everyone who's talked and fangirled/boyed with me!

Be warned that I might to ramble, and this whole thing might now make sense, or is all over the place, again, I'm sorry! But if you don't mind, I thank you!

I started off as an anime only, and watched on my own time. Even if I heard AFO's introduction, and All For One's and All Might's battle at Kamino Ward and All Might saying goodbye One For All in subbed first; my husband was watching it the living room while I was on my laptop watching a different series. The music drew me in and I couldn't look away, watching the whole battle with baited breath until it was over.

Then I watched the series by myself since I couldn't sleep months after. Cheering for Deku, smiling and crying with hm.

I watch in dubbed first, since it's hard to focus on subbed while having a toddler running around. XD Then rewatch it in subbed form.

Anyways, at the end of season 3 we get a tease of Overhaul's introduction. His voice, golden eyes drew me in, hook line and sinker.

I've always been a sucker for bad boys and I love a man that wears a suit. lol So it gave Overhaul some brownie points. I know it isn't just me! Don't lie, haha.

The fact that Overhaul straight up challenged Shigaraki for the spot as the next King of the Underworld, pointing out his mistakes and lack of motivation once more; the same as Stain had in the previous hard, showing that Overhaul himself had been in the game a bit longer than Shiggy.

Overhaul while insulting the younger villain was indeed asking the right questions. Shiggy had misused and lost his powerful NPC's during the Training Camp attack with the Vanguard Action Squad, Muscular and Moonfish.

He had every right to question his motives.

Overhaul is blunt and spoke the truth about Shiggy's leadership skills, even if it ending with Magne's death. As sad as it was she did attack him first when if she was defending her belief's and the league, she didn't have to die. Compress didn't have to lose an arm.

The confrontation and damage done on both side makes you see that Overhaul is a dangerous man, with an equally dangerous quirk on top of being able to bring someone back to life if he wanted to, showcasing the quirk erasing bullets. We hadn't really seen an onscreen death before then, or at least, not that I remember.

Overhaul is cold blooded and driven, but calm and calculated; he's a man who's not afraid to get his hands dirty when he needs to, despite his quirks drawback and hate of the aftermath.

When we meet him again with Shigaraki at the Shie Hassaikai underground meeting room, and the bits given by Sir Nighteye, it's clear that Overhaul has the means to til the scales of Villain and Hero society, if he was given more time and wasn't fighting against the clock. He still needed more funding and man power to mass product both sets of bullets.

Had he succeeded and gotten away with his arms still intact, despite losing Eri to the Heroes, we might have seen him and the right bullets again down the line, but it wasn't in the cards.

(We finally get to see Kai, our birdman unmasked and his poor man get's done soooo dirty! First it's his stoic and impressive, criminally handsome face, then Shiggy took his hard work, him and Mr Compress tag-teamed taking his hands away, leaving him quirkless, helpless, in despair and he's terrified! Not for himself, but because without his quirk he can't reverse the damage he's done to pop's, he can't wake him up or talk to him again.)

Underestimating the Heroes, The League, and being overly cocky and arrogant played a major part of his own fall. His isolation from others and seeing his subordinates and closest friend as pawns to be used and thrown away didn't help, yet the men closest to his inner circle were indeed the most loyal of his followers.

It wasn't outright said, but shown that Overhaul himself was forgiving and understanding when Chrono or Nemoto made mistakes, he didn't scold them or yell at them.

( If I missed anything in this summary, let me know. XD )

He's a well written character and villain. A man possessed and obsessed with fulfilling his goals, repaying Pops, the man who took him in and gave him a home, a place to be himself.

The way Pops found Chisaki as a boy, alone, covered in filth and I imagine he was hungry, always made me feel as if we were missing something from his past. He wanted more than anything to replay the man who saved him and rebuilding the Shie Hassaikai's former glory and reputation along with returning people quirkless.

Might have saved so many lives who were eventually lost, but at the end of the day, he still choose the darkest route and solution.

If the Quirk Doomsday theory we've heard about and snippets we've seen so far. Different combinations of quirks are getting stronger and stronger, people like Touya who's bodies destroys itself while using his fire. There may come a time where not even support items could save a person from their overly strong and destructive quirk.

Could you imagine what he could have done with his quirk, if he was a doctor?! He could have replaced recovery girl's position as UA's school nurse or even a Doctor since healing quirks are so rare.

Of course, I'm not saying what he did was justified by any means.

Kai Chisaki, Overhaul is practically The Fullmetal Alchemist in MHA without the use of Equivalent Exchange! Yes, he threw away his human name, becoming, "a demon with no heart" as Pops says.

As we see him fuse with Nemoto and Rikiya Katsukame, each fusion he becomes more monstrous, a much more darker version of himself; fulling giving into "Overhaul," his villain persona, not carrying who he has to hurt to get his way.

I will admit that I'm down bad for Kai/Overhaul and his Monsterhaul form, Nemoto version, but the giant monster form, lol

Now, let's get down to the nitty gritty.

Knowing about him being in Dr Garaki's/AFO's orphanage and that Shigaraki has a copy of his quirk. They more they parallel each other so much more after that reveal.

It explains so much about his character!

Kai Chisaki won't flat out say it or address it, neither has Horikoshi but its clear that he was heavily traumatized and abused as a kid before Pops found him.

Oh yes, the trauma bucket! Like our beloved characters in the series doesn't have enough trauma as it is. Let's see how far that habit hole goes for Kai? -_-

The lack of remorse for his victims, justifies his action, manipulative, lack of physical response to violence, deception, and hostel, his acts are usually well planned in advance, irritability and aggressive behavior when provoked, reckless disregard for safety of others - antisocial and sociopathic tendencies.

Lack of empathy, believes he's special and the only one who can cure the world, need for admiration from Pops, his abandonment and self-worth issues go hand-in-hand with his fear of his father figure throwing him out of the Shie Hassaikai with his final ultimatum of dropping his plan.

Out of everything, we only get sprinkles here and there that Kai had done before snapping.

You can see it, the way he tenses and his hands ball into a fists, no doubt, surprised, shocked, hurt even before redirected into anger and violence.

Putting his father figure into a coma, and taking matters into his own hands. Become the villain, we all know and love, adore, praise, however you see him as.

Before becoming "Overhaul," Kai used to get into brawls with anyone who dared disrespect the Shie Hassaikai, and wants to help the boss; protecting the honor of the yakuza and protecting them from being called, "Villains." (Classic delinquent behavior, I imagine he did it in high school since we've seen him do it as an adult.)

We see him wear normal clothes: black dress pants, blazer and purple dress shirt, no gloves and a black duster mask over his face. (I'd honestly, love to see Kai in more civilian, classy outfits! More unbuttoned shirts and all, please!)

Even if Pops scolding him and explaining that they must protect civilians instead of hurting them, the old man still affectionately pets the top of his head and praises him for protecting their honor. Which in itself is a kind gesture, but something I think he took a little too much into his heart.

The scolding for doing something dishonorable, but praised for his intentions has overtime been taken form into the most cold and logical extreme actions.

Nobody can deny that Overhaul's got drip! XD

Overhaul's more professional outfits: the red and gold plague doctor's mask, and white gloves. Borrowing inspiration from All For One, he uses his quirks name as his alias, his Villain name and quirk ability, the idea for his quirk erasing and serum, as "Overhaul", he can kill and wants to change the world.

To preserve the past, he must engage with the present and became a villain out of necessity.

What's the difference?

The differences between a young Kai standing up for his father's honor and the snarling demon he has become. All of it against a world that had clearly outgrown him and the old ways of the Yakuza, but he refused to accept it and to protect his only family and most precious person, Pops.

As we've been in the latest chapter of MHA, without his quirk, without his arms and plague mask, and the last time we saw him. Kai Chisaki, inside is still a boy who wants to make his father figure proud and wants attention and praise.

As Pop's said before he took things too far again, shoving the older man's wisdom and wishes aside, taking action into his own hands, not only crossing the line between the gray that Pop's held against the Villains' and Heroes, Black and White, Kai instead, erased the line and jumped over it, making his own line and walked into a dangerous and dishonorable path.

======= What I missed last minute, sorry guy's.... I'm almost done, I swear! =======

It's clear, that he's smart and well educated, he could have studied as a medical student, read medical journals during his free time or just because he was a huge science and medical geek, we will never know.

My bet's on the ladder, practicing how to control his quirk and for the fun of it. He's the type of person to obssess with something and run away with it, a concerting amount.

You can't tell me that Pop's didn't walk in to Kai's room or living room, seeing Kai asleep on the couch or floor with a book either on his face or on his chest! Or Kai geeking out over a first edition or rare medical journal he found or Pop's and Hari had given him as a birthday present!

The birdman is such a workaholic that he's no doubt forgotten about his birthday, if Pop's or Hari didn't plan something for him!

If Kai is such a health nut and germ, wash your hands after every speck of dusk lands on your hands, then I need to know his skincare routine!

Do you think his hands is soft?

We know he works out from how jacked he is from his back and abs, fuck, I'd gladly claim him like a tree X////////////x

I'm not the only one who wanted him to have those traditional tatts, right? Of course, it's optional and traditional, but come on! I excepted to see the Shie Hassaikai's embalm, sakura or at least, a raven something! Anything! Hell, all three! Well, in my fanfic he does.

Also, Lady Nagant, you lucky woman, getting to touch and dress Kai!

Wish, I could trade places to pamper and comfort this man.

Screw you, AFO, Kai comes first.

I don't care if Kai comes off as stuck-up, spoiled rich brat, a bubble bath princess, narcissist and a asshole. If given the change to rock this man's world and fuck his brains out, you bet your ass I would!

If he could put up with my ditzy, clumsy, sassy, way too honest and smart-ass mouth, then fine. Baby needs to laugh more! I wanna see him smile!

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

Well, it's almost 2am and I'm going to be. XD If you've had to through my rant/rambling of Kai. Share your thoughts with me... again, sorry for it being too long and wayyyyy all over the place.

Of course, I always forget something...... XD

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Hi babe, congrats on your milestone!❤️

It's so hard to pick between all these choices😩

Would you please write for Harwin Strong - spanking🧎🏻‍♀️

Win some, lose some (Harwin Strong x Reader)

Summary: Harwin and his wife have a disagreement over communication skills. The end result is exactly as the title says.

Warnings: Mature language. Spanking. Established dom/sub dynamics. Light aftercare. I'm not sure it counts as smut but smut?

Requested: Yes! I get it, tough choices. Hope you enjoy!

A/N: Due to a mistake on my part, I did not erase the space for spanking on time. I got two requests. So, Alicent anon, don't worry. I will write yours too, but I will try to space it out to not post two similar fics. 

You sit on a small armchair by the fire with a sullen expression. Nerves pool on your stomach, but they are quickly won over by the feelings of annoyance. You have been told you will get punished after he is done working, but you are more angry than scared. You did act out to get his attention, and even then, Harwin cannot even pretend to care. He is just treating your punishment as another task in a long list he has to fulfill before going to bed. 

Harwin sits at his desk, going over something that has countless numbers and math. A budget, most likely. You know the Master of Coins has been pressuring the gold cloaks into tightening their belts, or so to speak. 

The transition of leadership has not been an easy thing. Many of the men were loyal not to their cause, protecting the citizens of King’s Landing, but to their previous Commander. 

You do not begrudge Harwin for taking the position. It was an honorable one, being the Lord Commander of the City Watch. It spoke of the trust both his father and the King had in his abilities at combat and leadership. Yet… You can’t help but feel that the change has taken its toll on your marriage. 

He is always busy. Gone are the days that you would spend lazing around in bed or curled together by the fire. Or even the days Harwin took you for a ride or hunt. Now, he comes to your shared rooms at odd hours, and gets up every day at the crack of dawn.

You try to remind yourself that Harwin is a busy man, and that his attention and opinions are required elsewhere. The men need him to direct the training exercises, the council wants his input for the security of the King as he visits the small folk. It’s a good thing. 

You squirm in your seat, pouting. Harwin looks up from his papers and tuts. 

“Don’t. You will only get yourself in more trouble if you keep pouting.” 

“I just don’t think I deserve to be punished.” You answer, bravely. And it’s the truth. You don’t feel like you deserve a punishment. Why did you have to obey his silly rules when he was not there to witness the consequences of your disobedience? What was the point, even? Harwin was never home. 

“I doubt that’s your decision to make. If it depended on the rule breakers, all the cells would be empty.” Harwin’s voice was collected and calm. Cold, even. Yet, it was not that what made your blood boil. His words were. The comparison. It reminded you of the reason all of this started. Why did he have to bring work into everything? It seemed that even in your time together, he was not fully present. He simply cared more about his job than he cared about his wife. 

“… You said I was allowed to stay in your study if I didn’t distract you.” You retorted, gritting your teeth. Your whole face was heating, not in shame but anger. Your ears were burning, your neck felt hot, and you were about to do something that you would really regret. Closing your eyes, you breathed in deeply.

“And what did you do?” Harwin put the parchment and quill down. He looked at you for the first time. His expression was unreadable. You thought of getting up and grabbing that dammed budget and tearing it to pieces. 

“I was not distracting you! I was only… Playing with myself.” And what if you were? Really. It could hardly be called that. You had only been squeezing your thighs together. And perhaps rolling your hips a little. “And I never touched myself!” 

Why did you have to obey his silly rules? He was never here. The prohibition for touching yourself had started as a fun way to spice up your bedroom activities. Harwin enjoyed your neediness, when you had not been touched for a while. You suspected he also enjoyed the idea of being the only one that got to touch you in such a way. 

Before, it had not been hard to comply. As any self-respecting young maiden, fearful of the Seven, you had never even approached a hand towards your cunny. Only for washing yourself, and never lingering or exploring too much. 

Harwin had been the one who had introduced you to the pleasures of the flesh. It had been him who had encouraged you to explore all the wondrous feelings your body had to offer. Doing it without him seemed silly. You had touched yourself at his instance, and found great pleasure, but it was not the same that when it was his hands on your skin.

But after nearly a month of not being able to have sex with your husband, you understood exactly why you would want to please yourself. You craved the release. Even if you knew it would not be the same, you were so desperate, any peak would be better than no peak. Even if it were one brought on by yourself.

It was hardly your fault. Anyone would feel aroused after nearly a month with only stolen kisses to get you by.  The sight of your husband in only a linen shirt and pants, bent over his desk had been too much. Watching as the muscles of his back flexed, how his big hands swallowed the quill he was using to take notes.  All that, mixed with the goblet of wine you had been nursing and the fact that Harwin had handed you his cloak to keep warm. Surrounded by his smell, inhibitions lowered by the wine, it was a miracle you had not jumped his bones yet. 

You felt like you were burning up with need. So you squeezed your thighs a little, and rubbed against the edge of your chair. You didn’t try to be subtle, secretly hoping that the sight of your neediness might entice him to do something about it. 

“That’s hardly better, little one. You were purposefully looking for loopholes.” Harwin said, oblivious to your thought process. He wore a stern expression that made you want to fold immediately. 

A month, you reminded yourself. You had been feeling alone for a month. 

“I know, but you had not been paying attention to me!” You complained, steeling yourself. This was a discussion you truly wanted to have beyond brattiness. It had not only been the lack of marital duties, but you missed spending time with him.

It comes out whinier than you intended. Much more pitiful, too. You don't realize, but Harwin's mood immediately shifts, from playful to serious. He can tell this is truly bothering you. 

Harwin pulled his chair back and spread his legs slightly. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight of his thighs spread in a pose that was so dominant. 

“Come here.” He ordered, brows pinching together. You didn't want to, knowing only punishment could await from your defiance. But you still did. Once you were in front of him, Harwin caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Was my poor wife feeling neglected?” 

To your horror, your eyes started to feel watery. 

“You spend all your time with the gold cloaks. Never with me.” Then, in a whisper so small, it tugged at Harwin's heartstrings. “Do you not want me anymore?” 

“I had not noticed you missed me so.” He confesses, pulling you into his lap. His touch is gentle, as always. His hands feel warm and solid against your waist. You straddle one of his thighs, still pouting. Harwin pulls you even closer. “I will make time for you, from now on.” 

“Thank you.” You mutter shyly on his neck. It's what you needed to hear. You stay on his lap for a while, cuddling in silence. The steady thump of his heart and his warmth comfort you. It's something you have deeply missed.

Despite wanting nothing more than just curl into his lap and sleep the night away, you still feel restless. Your button throbs between your legs, wanting attention. You cannot help but wonder what it would feel like, getting ravished by your husband after so long. How his hands would feel on your skin, deliciously calloused. How his face would pinch in the sweetest agony. How he would sound, entering you. 

Would he be capable of sliding right in, with how wet you are? Or would Harwin have to open you up as he had done on your first night together? 

You squirm. Harwin, thinking you are uncomfortable, shifts you to sit properly on his lap, resting his forehead on top of your head. The casual display of strength makes even more wetness gather between your thighs. 

“Are you alright, Wife?” Harwin starts running his hand over your hair, soothingly. He is unable to see your expression, and you are glad for it. You are so embarrassed it's starting to be physically painful. Here is Harwin, trying to comfort you, and you can't think of anything else but getting him into bed.

"You are much too pretty to be shedding tears over the likes of me. I apologize, for being so lacking lately. I have been paying so much attention to my duties with the King and forgotten about my most important ones.” 

“Harwin…” That he regrets it had not even crossed your mind. Too blinded by your feelings, you had never thought about how your outburst would make him feel. 

“As your husband, I made a vow. To be always yours. To protect you. I have not fulfilled either of those duties, being so far away.” He whispers, very quietly. You want to reassure him, but are unsure how. 

“You always come home to me.” You go back to your previous position, straddling his thigh, to be able to look him in the eyes. It breaks your heart. His brown eyes are all hurt puppy. 

“Perhaps physically. But my mind is still away, even when by your side. It's not right. You are my Lady. Mine to cherish. I have been a poor husband to you.” And it is true. You had thought about it, using much harsher words. Harwin clearly didn’t mean to hurt you, but you had been trying to rile him up on purpose. It makes you feel awful. You don’t want him to feel bad about himself, you just wanted to air out your frustrations. 

“Never say that. Never.” You muttered, fiercely, touching your forehead to his. “I have never thought you a bad husband.” 

“Only because you are too kind. I will do better, Wife.” 

You sigh, knowing it's no use contradicting him. Instead, you pull him in for a kiss, hoping he can hear all you cannot say. The kiss starts to get heated very soon, his hands grasping greedily at your hips. It has been a month since you had the time to do more than just kiss. Time to play one of your games. Both of you crave it, need it. 

As you pull apart, you give him a naughty little grin. 

"I still broke your rules.” 

Harwin chuckles.  His eyes have turned dark, pupils blown with lust. 

“Dirty girl. Do you want a punishment?” 

“Yes, please.” You look up at him, all starry eyed. Perhaps he will tell you to spend the night on your knees, serving him. Or perhaps you will have to obey his every command. Or, if you are very lucky, you will get to peak over and over until you pass out. 

Your breath hitches in excitement. You can't wait. 

“Over my lap. Hike up your nightgown.” 

The words burst your bubble immediately. Your shoulders slumped and you went back to pouting. Spanking was not what you had expected. While the physical side of it was fun, a little pain to go with your pleasure, it always wore you out mentally. There was something about it that left you feeling very vulnerable.

You understood why Harwin did it, though. It was an easy way to put you in your place. Spanking you in such a manner tugged at your subconscious. It was the manner in which children were punished. He doesn’t need harsh words or much pain to force you into submission. In fact, it stings even more when he does so with gentle words. You feel silly, after it. Harwin will coo and call you his good girl, and you will melt for him and do as he says.

"But… But…” You protest, despite knowing it’s useless. 

“You thought you would get something else?” Harwin asks, carefully tucking your hair behind your ears. His hands almost swallow your face. It gets you all shy. “My poor wife. Where did all your intelligence go? You know you did a poor job of communicating your needs. Instead of telling me of your loneliness, you threw a tantrum." 

“I… Harwin…” You plead, looking up at him. You are not sure what you are begging for. For Harwin to guide you, perhaps. You feel helpless. 

“Over my knee.”

Faced with the choice, you cannot bear the thought of disappointing him further. He is right, in a turnabout way. You could have done things different. In another life, a perfect one, you would have knocked the door to his study and asked to talk. You would have sat, like two adults, and told him you were frustrated because you missed him. Instead, you had mixed the games the two of you play with your real anger, turning into a bratty mess. 

You want to fix things. To not have to think, anymore. You take off his cloak and fold it neatly. Then, you hike up your nigh shift and lay down on his lap. You rest your hands on the floor, stretching to be able to do so. 

“Don't. You could hurt yourself.” Harwin rubbed your arse, gently. Warming you up. Then, without warning, his hand came down. You nearly shrieked. The sting was harsh, yet he seemed unwilling to let up. His hand came down again and again, in the same spot. You knew Harwin, though. Soon, it was not only going to sting. He liked building you up to it. 

His hand moves to your other cheek, spanking you with a slightly curved hand. It hurts differently, that way. It allows him to feel the overheated skin, how the flesh wiggles with each impact. 

Shame curls around your spine, twisting your stomach. You are still wet. It’s a deeply humiliating feeling. You are unable to think clearly, your mind slow and weary. As if you were treading through molasses. 

“I will not make you count, but you have to behave. No trying to get away.” Harwin warned, before spanking you again. This time, you started wiggling your toes in discomfort, fighting the urge to kick and scream. 

Your bottom feels already hot and abused, but Harwin is not letting up. You are really starting to hurt. Your vision starts to blur, and you try to grasp at the carpet, fighting to stay afloat. It’s no use, no use at all. Soon you are weeping with all you have.

“Are you going to stop being a good girl for me?” Harwin asks, rubbing soothingly at your shoulder blades. It’s only then that you realize you have been wiggling around, trying to get away from the pain. 

“I’m… Har-…Harwin… Sorry.” You blubber, unable to form the sentence right. You want to speak, but you are crying too hard for it. You feel dumb. Look at you, a noble lady with access to the best education Westeros has to offer. You had the best tutors, a Septa all to yourself. An education fit for a Princess. Yet, you can’t create a single sentence, overwhelmed by your feelings. 

Too big feelings, Harwin had called them once. You were, after all, a silly girl who needed her husband to guide her. Sometimes, your feelings get the best of you and make you unable to think clearly. 

That was why you liked these games. Submitting quieted all the voices in your head. There was nothing except obedience requiring your attention. Harwin made all the tough choices and took care of you, and you could focus on only being. 

“You are doing so good.” Harwin whispered, as he rubbed at the already abused skin. You hated how much it made you preen, getting praised. “So good for me. Just a little longer, and we will be done.” 

You slump on his lap, defeated. The hits keep raining on your vulnerable behind, and this time you are unable to quiet down. You whine, and weep and scream, but do not move an inch. You are sweating with the effort from keeping still, and there is nothing you want more than to bang your palms against the floor in a fit of rage.  But you do not. You keep still and focus on being good for Harwin. 

Your mind slows down. There is nothing but the pain, and breathing through it. Like being submerged in syrup, thoughts barely form before sinking heavily. You blink, trying to focus, but are unable to. There is only Harwin. 

His smell, his hands so big against you. His warm thighs under your stomach. His erection pressing against you, the way he sounds, excited little inhales at each hit. How he times them, alternating the placement in a predictable two-one count. Reliable. To care for you, hold you down, push you when you need him too. 

Time drags on. Perhaps it’s only a few minutes, or perhaps hours pass. You are unable to tell. Harwin lowers you gently to the rug and lays down beside you, careful not to press into your arse. 

“How are you?” He asks, tenderly brushing your tears away. You blink up at him, hazily. Still trapped in molasses, the words seem uttered from far away. You sniffle. 

Harwin smiles at you. You don’t feel capable of speaking just yet. With great effort, you raise your hand and brush his cheekbone. He leans into your touch. 

“I see, I see.” Harwin chuckles, and pulls you closer to him. You go willingly, nearly purring in contentment. 

You drift off like that, head on his chest, nestled close to his heart. 

[bilbo12]

Wukong cares about people. Macaque isn't a saint.

Alright, I've wanted to write this for a while, so here I go. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any typos.

I've been watching so many fananimations of LEGO Monkie Kid. They're all gorgeous, top of the top, excellent, chef kiss and I'm glad the fandom seems to be growing every day.

But I HATE how so many people have portrayed Wukong as an asshole who doesn't care about anyone. Love the animations, they're great but I don't think Wukong is the villain people make him out to be.

Now don't get me wrong, Wukong has made many, many, many, mistakes throughout his life. The thing is, people don't seem to realize that while he messed up, his intentions were good! "Yeah, right, then how is he such a bad mentor?" I'm gonna shut you up right there.

When MK first got the staff, he didn't know how to use it, I agree with you. But Wukong is a milennia old stone monkey who has gone through a lot on his life, getting stronger and stronger with each fight.

"Pfft, what about DBK? You can handle it! Consider it a trial"

That's what he tells MK when said boy asks him what to do with DBK, because for Wukong that fight is easy. He then reassures him that with enough confidence in himself he could take him on. He trusted MK since the first moment and even told him to consider it as a trial. He was evaluating MK during his fight to make sure he had picked the right successor.

And just in case and most probably noticing how nervous he was on his first fight, he kept an eye out on him to make sure to intervene in case MK needed help. Wukong already knew that MK was invincible before locking away some of his powers in the second episode, therefore he was confident that he would succeed. And even if he already knew he was going to defeat DBK, he still watched over him to make sure he wouldn't get hurt.

Following this battle, in the first episode "Bad Weather", MK doesn't call for Wukong's help. He's confronting Red Son when suddenly the staff acts on its own and takes him down to the ground and who appears afterwards? The Monkey King himself! Almost as if he had sensed that MK needed some help with defeating Red Son. Almost as if he had been the one to call for the staff so he could talk with his student. Again, he showed up on his own because he cares.

"Then what about that time he abandoned him?"

He didn't abandon him. To abandon someone is to stop supporting them, to give up completely in someone. Monkey King knew that LBD was coming back but he didn't want either MK or his friends to get hurt.

He's used to doing things on his own! I mean, on JTTW Wukong was always sent ahead to see if there were any demons that would kidnap Tripitaka. And even though he warned his companions numerous times that there were demons under the disguise of innocent people, they wouldn't believe him. So why should he tell MK and his friends that there's an enemy approaching? Every time he had warned other people of other threats, they had never believed him, so why should MK be any different?

I think that's one of the reasons why he didn't even try to defend himself when Pigsy snapped at him. Because he's used to taking the blame. What's the point in trying to do something right if you're going to be blamed for everything going wrong, regardless of how much you try to make it okay? He even tries to keep helping MK through his training with the astral projection throughout the whole season!

So, he searched for the map that would lead him to the rings of the Samadhi Fire, knowing full well that he could end up dying.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! I thought if I could somehow get the Samadhi Fire out of you, without hurting you of course, then I could put it inside myself. Then, I don't know, use it to burn up the Lady Bone Demon or something?"

Let's remember that while it's difficult to hurt Wukong, the Samadhi Fire is one of the powers that could actually kill him. He was willing to risk his life so he'd be able to save not only the whole world, but his friends as well. Do you realize how crazy that sounds? To be willing to give up his own life to save the Earth?

He even says that he wanted try to get the ring out of Mei without hurting her.

Would someone who didn't care about anyone try to make something as painless as possible for the victim? I don't think so.

Alright, let's focus on Macaque now for a bit.

My biggest beef with this guy is that some people seem to paint him as the misunderstood character who never did anything wrong because "Oh, my best friend abandoned me and woe is me!". Yuck.

While Macaque has many good reasons to be angry at Monkey King, that still doesn't give him the right to kidnap and trick MK. It doesn't give him the right to taunt him and make him feel like shit, nor the right to manipulate him and make him think that he's not a good successor.

"Well, you know what that means! There really isn't anything special about you. You're just some kid with a heavy stick!"

Macaque knew that if he hurt MK, eventually Wukong would come out to save him, because he knows that he'll protect him. This is a little theory of mine, but Macaque manipulates shadows, right? Who knows how many times he's watched MK from them? Because I don't think his plan to steal MK's powers was something he thought of in just one minute. No, I'm pretty sure that plan took a while to be thought of.

"Ah, MK. You really are dense, aren't you? You saw a story about a hero who got handed everything? Who didn't have to work for anything? And you thought you were the other guy? The second the hero got real power, he couldn't care less about his friends. That's you, bud."

He tricked him into sharing his insecurities, knowing full well that MK was vulnerable and stressed out about the whole LBD situation, then blamed him for not caring about his friends. He made him doubt whether he truly cares about his friends or not or whether he was even a good person.

And we all know how hard MK's worked to try to get control of his powers, especially after he lost them when LBD took away his staff. MK can be a lot of things: optimistic, a bit smug at times, a bit forgetful... But if there's one thing I'm sure of is that he worked hard to control his powers. He even asked Wukong to limit them so he could control them better, knowing that it'd be harder but he still did it.

And let's take into account that Wukong apologized to MK for how he acted towards him. Macaque, still to this day, hasn't apologized at all. And yet, he keeps mocking Wukong and saying he's the same old Wukong, while he himself is still stuck in the past.

I get that Macaque is angry at Wukong, I really do. But if he were really so angry against him, maybe he should've brought it to Wukong himself instead of using MK. He isn't a saint. He's made mistakes as well. These two are very complicated characters who have gone through a lot, but neither of them are blameless. Macaque isn't a saint, but he does care about some people. And although Wukong has made many mistakes, that doesn't mean that he doesn't care about other people.

Anyways, to finish it off, as MK once said:

"Uh, you know you two are the same, right?"

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

And In The Middle of My Chaos There Was You

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: You're a Naval Aviator at Top Gun, and you finally feel like your career is progressing. Sure, you have to fight to be heard and avoid being disregarded because you're a woman, but that's par for the course at this point in time. If only the men in your cohort weren't so pissy at being beaten by a girl. What will you do when you find yourself facing a situation you've only heard of in the news? Is your knight in shining armor, actually that? Or does he want to take advantage of you at your lowest?

Disclaimers: Female!Reader, All the warning above!

Warnings: There are quite a few warnings on this one! Near sexual assault, misogyny, Male chauvinist pigs, Hurt/Comfort, Jake is a dick at first, Sex, Angst, Crying

As a reminder, everyone's experiences are different. Everyone's experiences are valid. This is a fictional story.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CONSUME ON THE INTERNET. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS FIC IF IT IS TRIGGERING TO YOU IN ANY WAY.

Word Count: 4872

A/N: I'm insatiable, and I swear I need to be stopped. I have three WIPs shaking a spear at the writer avatar of myself in my brain right now, and I'm still churning out one-shots like this one. Top Gun Brain-Rot: 1, Star: -100

I was a little hesitant to post it because it's different from other things I've written, and I hope I've handled this sensitive topic wisely. This was an incredibly hard fic to write because of the topic.

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

The US Navy's Naval Fighter Weapons School, colloquially known as Top Gun, is the most selective program you can be selected for as a Naval Aviator, and you've finally made it. You've worked hard to get to this spot in your career. You've put in countless hours of training, learned from every single one of your mistakes, and perfected the flying style that gained you the callsign Hummingbird. Point being, you're good, you're damned good, and you're going to prove it. You've got an itch under your skin, goading you to fight for that trophy. You need it. You've been fighting the shackles of male dominance since you decided to become a fighter pilot, and this is what will prove to them you're where you belong.

The only problem is there are nineteen or so other pilots in your class all with the same urge bubbling under their skin. The worst of the lot is Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman. He'd been gentlemanly at first, opening doors for you, handing you your pen when you dropped it during lectures, not flirty, but nice. Then you'd gone up against him on the first hop and smoked him. You'd been the only person in your cohort to beat the Hangman. After that, when your name and callsign had been at the top of the rankings, the gentleman schtick had been shredded and discarded faster than a tissue in a windstorm.

He’s now the ringleader of a group of five or six men in your cohort who seem hell bent on bringing you down. It’s obvious by now to them that they can’t do it while you’re flying. So they try to be intimidating, peacocking and talking shit and looming over you like their physical presence alone would be enough to knock you from the rankings. You’ve heard it all.

“It’s because she’s pretty, y’know, boys?” His Texan drawl had spit those words out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms two weeks ago. “She must be fucking Admiral Simpson. There is no way she’d be at Top Gun otherwise, not how she flies.”

It was so fucking easy for them to say that. It’s the only thought in your mind as you keep your face blank and muscle your way through the group of them on your way to and from the locker room every day. They don’t have a glass ceiling they need to shatter to be heard. They can just open their dumb mouths and the world falls at their feet. You and Phoenix, in the meanwhile, the only two women in your cohort, have to go above and beyond. It’s your hard work and nothing else that got you to Top Gun. So why does it feel like a hollow victory whenever you out-perform on a hop and have to hear the vitriol pouring out of Hangman’s mouth? You’d thought there was at least one man you’d never have to worry about. Boy were you wrong.

Today was the day of hop 25. You hadn’t smoked all the boys in this one, and you knew it was because it exploited all of your weaknesses in the air. Hangman hadn’t given up the opportunity to hold his success over you either. He’d been in your space all day, and all you wanted to do was go for a run, take a hot bath and order greasy chinese takeout so you could stuff your face. Your failure feels like a blanket coating your skin as you tie your sneakers and pop your headphones into your ears.

It’s only a few minutes before you’re jogging down the beach. It’s a beautiful day and with each slap of your sneakered feet against the pavement you can feel your disappointment and anger melt away. Soon the only thing in your head is the rush of endorphins and your steady breathing. You’re about four miles away from your quarters on base when you finally stop running. Your legs feel like jelly as you drop to sit on the sun-warmed sand and chug some water. The beach has to be your favorite part of living in San Diego, at least temporarily. Being able to just sit in the hot sand and watch the pounding waves always takes you out of your head in a way that only alcohol and orgasms have before.

You’re startled out of your meditative state when a series of shadows blot out the sunlight in front of you. It’s three men staring at you. Their gazes are predatory, gazes heavy over your exposed legs, shoulders and midriff.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?” The first man’s voice sends shivers down your spine as you scramble to your feet. They’re about six inches away from you, but as you stand, you soon find yourself surrounded. A hand clasps your upper arm as the ringleader crowds into your space. You can smell beer on his breath and see unknown greenery in his teeth as he leers down at you. You can smell the sour scent of his sweat as he looms over you, corpulent and disgusting. All the hair on your body is standing on end as you try and fail to summon all of the confidence that you exhibit when you’re in a fighter jet. The ringleader’s ham hands plant on your waist, and that’s when your fight and flight response kicks in. You shove the other men’s hands off of you, throwing your metal water bottle into one of their faces for good measure. Then you kick the ringleader right in his family jewels. He falls with a satisfying thud and groan of pain and you’re left to try and run away.

Your adrenaline pounds as you jolt across the beach. You’re screaming at the top of your lungs with each step you take. You only get a few steps away before you’re stopped by a vicious yank to your hair. Your eyes water as you try to kick the men away. There’s a man holding your arms behind your back when you’re dragged back to the leader. His jaw is still clenched, face red and dripping sweat as he cradles his balls and tries to catch his breath.

“We’ve got a live one, don’t we gentlemen? Now why don’t we see what she has going on under that itty bitty sports bra. You’re just a little slut, aren’t you? Running down the beach in those tiny clothes?” You’re struggling when that hand rips your sports bra at one of the straps, but before he can put his hands on your skin, he’s being pushed away. His goons drop their grasp of you to go help the ringleader and you collapse to the sand clutching your tattered bra to you and watch your savior fight them off. It’s Jake! He’s already knocked the leader out and your heart is in your throat as you watch his fight with the other men. The struggle has brought other people to the sand and even the police. It’s a relief when the police officers handcuff the men and walk them away.

You’re just staring blankly into the ocean water when you feel soft fabric being handed to you. It’s Jake and he’s looking at you like he’s never seen you before.

“Hey, Hummingbird. Can you wear that for me, sweetheart? It’s getting cold out here. I talked to the police officers for you and gave them your contact info. They want to see us tomorrow.”

His first words send hot droplets of tears welling from your eyes. How can you do this? Be Hummingbird, the woman who can outfly any man on base while being the fragile creature you feel like right now? You note distantly how his face falls as you sob before him. His hands are gentle as he helps you put your arms into the sleeves of the shirt and buttons it until you’re decent.

“I’m going to hug you, sweetheart. Is that ok?” Your nod is barely a bob of your chin when he wraps his arms around you. You’re crushed against his broad chest and as you curl into his skin you can’t help crying harder. He’s safe. Jake’s safe and he’s going to keep you that way. You don’t know where that bone deep surety came from. He hates you and he’s your rival. But you don't care right now.

All you can feel is his bare skin. You can hear the beat of his heart as he positions you on his lap and feel his hands as he wraps them carefully around your waist. The gentle caress makes you sob harder as you nearly scream into his bare chest. You feel scraped raw, like those men had robbed you of everything you are. It’s nearly dark out when your tears finally run out. In the half light on the beach you can barely see the man you’re curled into, but you can feel the steady whooshing of his breath as he holds you as long as you need.

Your voice is soft and hoarse as you pull away, “Thank you, Jake. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. I have sisters. I did what I would’ve wanted any other man to do for them.” You can see his jaw clench in the half-light as he nearly growls the words. “Did they hurt you?”

“The big one, he pulled my hair.” You can’t stop the catch in your throat as you think of what he did to you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let me take you home?” He cradles the back of your head gently, long fingers probing the tender parts to ensure you’re not seriously hurt.

“Okay.” You’re still unable to look him in the eye as he slips you off of his lap and helps you stand. His hand is huge as he carefully envelops your hand in his own and walks you to his truck.

“Y’drove here?” Your voice is slurring, exhaustion haunting every movement as the fear and adrenaline fade away.

“Yeah, baby. I was going to grab dinner with a friend at a restaurant a bit up the beach. I always park here and walk up the beach to get there.”

“M’sorry, Jake. I spoiled your plans.” Your voice is quivering again as you wrap your arms around your waist.

“No. You didn’t, baby. Keeping you safe means more than canceled dinner plans.” He pulls the door open and carefully helps you into the cab.

Your heart is pounding. Jake Seresin is being sweet to you. He let you cry in his arms, he saved you from sexual assault, and now he’s making sure you get home safe.

“Your quarters are on base, right?” His voice is gentle as he tries to find your frazzled thoughts.

An irrational jolt of fear pulses through you at the thought, and you can’t keep yourself from letting the words from spilling past your lips. “Yeah, but I don’t want to go there. Please, I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

“That’s understandable sweetheart. I’ve been living in my brother’s apartment off base. Can I take you there?”

“Yes, please.” His jaw is clenched as he drives. You’ve shoved your shoes off and are curled up in the big bucket seat as you watch the light play over his face. It’s silent as he drives the truck and you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you know is you’re being carried carefully up a set of stairs.

“Jake?” Your arm is curled around his neck as he carefully carries you.

“You awake, baby?” He sets you carefully down on his front door mat as he unlocks the door and ushers you in. You’re a little curious as to how he lives, because even after a fistfight on the beach, there isn’t a hair out of place on his head. It’s a bachelor’s apartment, but clearly lived in. There’s a throw over the back of the sofa and a couple of dishes in the sink. When you stop your slow examination, you see Jake leaning against the kitchen counter. He’s smirking gently.

“Like what you see, baby?”

“It’s not what I’d expect from you, Seresin.” Your voice is straining to be light as you smile half-heartedly at him.

“Oh yeah?” His voice contains a shade of the normal teasing he usually uses with you. “What would you expect of me?”

Your voice is bitter and harsh as you chuckle mirthlessly, “Not a knight in shining armor, that’s for sure. The worst part is, I don’t even know what to think. You were nice in the beginning. Then overnight you turned into the biggest dick I’ve ever met. Why didn't you let them do whatever they wanted? You hate me anyways. If they did what they wanted to, I'd have probably dropped out and you could've gotten Top Gun.”

You’re not expecting the joy to leave his eyes. He’s serious now. You’re not looking at Jake Seresin anymore. This is Hangman. You can’t help the gasp as he tugs you towards him before he spins the two of you until you’re caged between the island counter and his body. His voice is a barely restrained growl as he looks at you.

“I want to win Top Gun fighting against you the whole way. Darlin', I don't hate you and I never meant a thing I said. I was just trying to get into your head. Not degrade your sense of self. Truthfully, you're the most captivating, intelligent, sweet-hearted, gorgeous woman I've ever met.”

Your heart is in your throat as you glance up at him. Each breath has your chest brushing against his.

“Never question why I saved you. You are the best of the best. This is just a blip in your career. Tomorrow we'll go give your statement to the police and get those asswipes all locked up. Then, you’re going to kick our cohort’s asses, mine included, and accept that trophy. And I’ll be cheering for you every step of the way.” He’s so close to you that you can see the different variations of mossy green swimming in his captivating eyes, and especially how he keeps looking at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Your voice is gentle as you cup his jaw, “make me forget what it feels like to have their hands on my skin.”

The first tender press of his lips to yours has you gasping, wrapping your arms around his neck as you melt into his embrace. His hands are gentle as he lifts you onto one of the barstools, tracing gentle patterns on your ribs as he slides his hands under the shirt he’d given you. You’re panting as he finds the torn fabric of your sports bra. Each gentle press of his fingers has your cunt clenching in need as he chases the phantoms of the unfriendly touches away.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?” Your nod is gentle as you unwind your arms from around his neck. You shudder as he slips each button out of its hole and moan appreciatively when he finally pushes the entire garment off of you. You’re left with only the torn sports bra covering your breats and even that’s off shortly. His eyes are hungry as he gazes over the expanse of your skin laid bare for him. Jake drags you into another all-consuming kiss as his hands send heat shooting across your skin. His lips trail hot down your throat, laving across your pulse point before trailing wetly across your breasts. They latch onto one of your nipples, nuzzling, licking and sucking before he places another kiss to your mouth.

“Can I take you to the shower, sweetheart? We’re both covered in sand. Let me make you feel good in the shower.” His voice is a purr against your ear as his hands cup your ass.

“Yes! Please!” Your voice is breathy and high pitched as he picks you up. Faced with his hot skin against yours again, you can’t resist peppering kisses of your own across his shoulders, and collar bone. You feel delirious, swept up in the thrall of his warmth and the scent of his skin, something citrusy and light but woody with a touch of musk. Jake’s arms are like steel cages around you, but you’d like nothing more than to stay in them forever. That feeling of safety courses over your skin with each step.

He sets you on the bathroom counter, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air as he turns the shower on before stepping in between your parted legs. It’s in the bathroom light that you finally get to explore the full expanse of his bare torso. You’ve seen Jake topless before, when you’d been dragged out to compulsory cohort bonding activities on the beach. You’d marveled at the play of light over his torso and the light dusting of soft hair a shade or two darker than on his head, thankful that your sunglasses hid your gaze. But here, when it’s just the two of you, you let your eyes drink their fill. When your eyes drift back to his, there’s an amused glint in his eyes.

“D’you like what you see, sweetheart?” His hands find your ass, calloused fingers dipping below the band of your exercise shorts as he slowly begins to nudge the fabric down. You can feel the heat rising to your face as he exposes your sodden core to his gaze before discarding both the shorts and your panties to the floor at his feet. He wraps his arms around your hips before blowing a stream of air over your sensitive folds. It has your bare skin goosing with pleasure as he presses a kiss against each calf before stepping back so you can hop off the counter. Now you can see the considerable bulge in his exercise shorts. You can’t resist trailing your finger gently over it before stepping into the shower, calling over your shoulder, “I love what I see, Flyboy. Now are you joining me or are you going to stand there and look pretty?”

As you step under the stream of perfectly hot water, you can’t hide your chuckle as you hear Jake struggling to get the shorts off. You can feel all the stress of the day slipping off of your body and into the drain just as the last grains of sand do. Jake’s hands at your waist finish the job. You're tugged against his firm chest and your moan of pleasure as his big hands knead your skin is lost under the patter of water drenching the stall. His cock is hard and thick against your ass as he gently rocks his hips against you.

You turn in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck as you kiss him. Jake returns the kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs as he plunders your mouth with his tongue. You can feel your body clench, muscles drawn tight at the promise of the pleasure his body can wreak on yours as he devours your mouth.

“Jump.” his voice is a sensual growl against your ear, and you’re only too eager to comply. He’s gentle as his big hands cup your ass. He presses you against the cool tiles of the shower and your shuddering moan at the contrasting temperatures is silenced with another all-consuming kiss. Jake buries his head between your breasts for several long moments, and his voice is absolutely wrecked when he speaks again, “You’re so beautiful, my gorgeous fiery, sweet girl. And I nearly lost you today.” His lips are indescribably tender as he presses kisses across your skin. Your fingers are buried in his soft hair as he sucks your nipples into his mouth nibbling and laving his tongue over tender peaks until your core is jerking against his stomach.

“Jake!” Your voice is a strung-out squeal as he pulls away from your breasts and lifts you higher.

“Put your legs on my shoulders and hold onto my hands. I’m going to eat you out until you scream my name. Now’s your chance, pretty bird. If you don’t want this, we can just shower and I can take you to bed.”

Your only response is to push his head to your core. The first swipe of his tongue over your heat has your back arching, core clenching as Jake eats you out with abandon. Your thighs are already quivering with the strain of not squishing his head between them. His nose nudges your clit with each thrust of his tongue into your heat and you’re reaching your orgasm impossibly fast.

“Jake!” You’re screaming his name, babbling about how good he makes you feel when you cum, thighs constricting as tight as a vice around his head before your body finally, blessedly, goes slack. Your knees are wobbly when Jake finally sets you on your feet. You cling to his waist, praying that your legs will cooperate enough to let you at least stand stably. You know you’ve got a dopey grin on your face when you look back at him.

“Y’ok, baby?” His voice is gentle as he wraps his arms around you.

“Yeah, better than. I’m good, Jake. I’m very good.” You’re smirking at him when he turns you until your back is pressed to his chest.

“Y’good enough to let me fuck you until we make you cum again?” As he’s speaking his hand is pressing wickedly between your folds, slowly fingering you. You don’t respond outright, too busy chasing the sensations his talented long fingers wreak on your body. You’ve forgotten what you should be responding to, in fact, when he stops moving his hands in their entirety. It’s when his hands tweak your nipples that your attention snaps back to Jake.

“Jake?” Your voice is gentle, half whining as he cups your breasts. “What happened? Why’d you stop?”

“You didn’t respond, baby. Wanted to make sure you were onboard with what I wanted to do to you.” His mouth presses kisses across your pulse as he waits for your eager consent.

“Jake.” This time, you’re moaning in earnest as you clutch at his hands over your tits. “Please fuck me, my darling, please. Want to cum on your cock.”

His groan sends heat through you as he places your hands on the wall before parting your legs.

“I’m clean, baby. But I don’t have a condom.” His big hand is splayed comfortably around your hip.

“I’m on birth control. Please.” You can feel the puffs of his breath against your damp shoulder as he nudges your clit with his cock before slowly pressing into you. Your pants turn into moans with each thick inch of him pressing into your walls. You’re seeing stars already at the constant assault of his length against your g-spot.

“Please! Please!” You’re babbling as he finally bottoms out in you, “You feel so good, Jake, please! Want to cum for you. Please, Please, Please!”

His hands are soothing against your hips as he caresses the hot skin before drawing his hips back. Jake’s infuriatingly slow, each slow glide and press into you has your toes curling as a jumbled mess of need and want and ache and pleasure washes over you. He doesn’t speed his thrusts until you begin to circle your clit with your own hand. The flutters of your wall around his length make him groan before he tugs you back against his chest.

“Oh, baby.” His voice is reverent as the new angle has your walls clenching even tighter around his length. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

You reach for his face, kissing the corner of his mouth sloppily as he picks up the tempo. You’re soon squished between the cold bathroom tile and Jake’s body as he rails into you with impunity. Your breaths are punched out moans and you can feel your second orgasm approach with an unparalleled intensity as Jake continues to piston his hips. You can hear the slapping of skin against skin even over the pounding water as Jake slides his hand between your legs and massages your clit. Your scream as you orgasm is prolonged and a thin, weak thing as the pleasure robs you of every thought.

You don’t come back to yourself for several moments. Jake’s carefully massaging shampoo into your scalp, fingers gentle against the tender parts. You kiss his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist as his hands leave your hair to wrap around you again.

“You back with me, baby?” His voice is filled with such fondness and affection that you could cry.

“Yeah, I’m back, Jake.” Your smile is dopey and fond as he draws you into a kiss. “Did you cum?” Your hands are just as gentle as his as you stand on tiptoes to lather his hair just as carefully as he’d lathered yours.

“Yeah, baby. I came when you did.” He’s started to rub soap across your skin, something fancy that smells like oranges. “God, baby. If I hadn’t been so jealous or selfish, we could’ve been doing this a long time ago. I haven’t come like that in years.”

Your heart swells as you grab the soap from him and run your sudsy hands over his strong thighs and ass, putting in just the right amount of pressure on his back to make him moan before soaping his chest and soft length. He’s looking at you like you’re something special as you tip your head back and let the hot water wash all the bubbles away. While Jake rinses off, you stay cuddled in his arms.

The bathroom is steamy and warm as he drapes a towel under your armpits and pulls a hair dryer out. You melt when he turns the dryer on and uses the combination of warm air and his fingers carding through the bedraggled strands to dry your hair. It’s quiet between you as he leads you to his bedroom and hands you a soft t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts to wear.

“Are you hungry, darlin’?” His hair is soft and mussed as he stands in the kitchen wearing just a pair of low-slung sweats.

“I’m starved.” You curl into his chest again as he pulls up a menu on his phone.

“What do you feel about Chinese food?”

You kiss him for that suggestion before pulling away to look at the menu. Jake hooks his chin over your shoulder as you laugh and playfully fight over the best menu choice. It’s light and easy as you sit on his sofa, sipping on wine and eating chinese food. You’re sure you could get used to this.

North Island Naval Base - 2 ½ Weeks Later

“It is without further ado, that we present the Top Gun Trophy to Lieutenant Junior Grade Jacob Seresin, Callsign Hangman.”

Admiral Simpson looks proud as he hands the plaque to Jake and you know Jake’s looking right at you as he smiles like he won the world. Your loss doesn’t bother you, not at all.

After that fateful night, things had been different between the two of you. One night of sex, mind-blowing, and Chinese food, greasy and perfect, hadn’t been the harbinger of change between you. Change had started the next morning when he accompanied you to the police station and waited as you’d given your statement to the police with your JAG representative by your side. It had been a relief to see the police throwing the book at your three attackers and to see their sentencing. You’d attended their trial two days ago and celebrated into the night with Jake as they’d each been sent to prison for assault of a military officer.

The biggest change had been during class. Jake was back to being the nice, perfect gentleman he had been at the beginning of your tour at Top Gun. He no longer heckled you or tried to bring you down using misogynistic remarks. He did still banter with you, but it was light and fun. And every night, he made love to you in his apartment while he called you “his beautiful fiery girl” or his “pretty bird”. He held you when your nightmares kept you awake and made you feel like you were perfect when you felt like anything but.

That’s why losing the Top Gun trophy hadn’t hurt so much. You won Jake at the end of it all. And you weren’t sure if he knew that he’d won you too. You're going to show him the next chance you get. Your entire cohort is grouped around him as you walk towards him to congratulate him. He’s been getting hugged all day, so you know it doesn’t look out of place when you wrap your arms around him and congratulate him. But you can guarantee that none of the others whispered in his ear that he had to eat them out to console them from the loss. That privilege is just for you, and it’s a consolation prize you’re very keen to claim.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[fanstuffrantings]

how did zeref create the dragon slayers?? and are natsu and zeref still brothers

As I answer this I want to note: a lot of these ideas are from 2022 and not as fresh in my head, and rewriting the lore of fairy tail has taken a backset to my own personal story so things can get muddy and may change.

First zeref has a parent/child dynamic with the dragon slayers. None of them really know him but he is their creator and has a certain level of fondness for all of them. Natsu he's actually disappointed in. I'll explain in a moment.

Zeref is cursed due to hubris and how he dug into every type of magic no matter how taboo just to learn and gain power in this au. He had a love of learning and a zest for life that ultimately leads to him corrupting the very core of magic causing death and desolation around him.

He's only able to be killed by people blessed by divinity, however out of pettiness as gods can often be, no truly blessed mages have been found since Zeref was cursed.

And by divinely blessed I don't mean magic based in divinity. I mean a child the gods claim as their own. Someone made holy without training for it.

He takes matters into his own hands and crafts children to act as sponges for dragon magic since in this version dragons are children of God's who have taught humans before. Zeref's idea is that maybe this could work in killing him.

Irene would have known him from this point and she's the reason the dragons take in the children at all. But when it comes to Zeref, anyone who assists him is worthy of sharing in his punishment and she's given a similarly horrible one to endure for it.

The thing is he knows for someone to kill him of their own free will he'd need to be hated. He'd need people who are angry and volatile. And natsu being the fire dragon slayer really should've been perfect for that but the dude is just too friendly and happy. Causing zeref to think him the biggest mistake of all.

Again: I really would need to sit down and spend a few hours/days figuring it out and most likely rewatching fairy tail to refamiliarize myself with the finer details but this is the gist. A lot of Zeref meddling in humanity is for the sake of finding his own oblivion. He's in a way killed what magic once was and can't find peace in the world because he corrupts everything. He absorbs things around him to keep himself alive unwillingly. If he doesn't absorb life he starves but exists until something appears that he can take from.

I hope this is good enough for now! Sorry if it's a garbage answer, I'm aware I need to revise and focus on it. Unfortunately my mind goes where it wants and it hasn't settled into lore building in a while.

Thank you for the question!

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Fifteen | Where It All Started…

Dominik’s suspension had flown by. We spent half of it avoiding each other and the other half in bed. Somehow we resolved everything without resolving anything and I could be okay with that. We both made mistakes. If we could just stop sabotaging things we would be fine.

WWE didn’t stop calling or texting Dom. I wanted to be with him so badly I didn’t care what that looked like, if it meant I was involved or used as a pawn.

“Can we talk about it?” Dom was picking up shoes and doing some mini interview downtown that I tagged along to.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We aren’t using our personal lives as viewer bait.” He scuffed while snatching another pair of Nikes.

“But you can pretend to be other people’s boyfriends as viewer bait?” I retorted with my voice a little too loud when I realized people glanced over at me. Trailing behind him closely I whispered, “I want an excuse to go with you.”

“So I don’t fuck up again?” Twisting into me he purposely got so close it hurt just to breeze by me.

Still following his lead, “No, because I’m tired of being apart. I’m tired of hurting each other in general. I’m not going for a story line - you know I have zero interest in that shit. I did the living alone in our new house, missing you and masterbating to death thing. It’s old.”

Crowding me at the mere crude words, Dominik stepped into me until my back was against a poorly placed mirror. “Shhh. No one needs to know that. You can come but if I know my bosses they’re gonna hound us until we say yes. They want this storyline and you being on the road with me is a tease. They’ll never let it go.”

“Why are you so against it? What do they want from us?” I asked him, unsure of why he was so angry over nothing.

Looking down at me, I could feel his tense body against mine. I wasn’t showing yet but all of me felt more filled out. His fist pressed against the mirror as he leaned further in. “You would be with Randy. By his side. The whole point is to break Rhea and I up.”

“Can’t hide behind her forever, right?” I said it and regretted it. They were close beyond work partners, they were best friends and nothing would change that. Not my jealous or snarky attitude.

I had triggered him entirely when his mouth tightened and his eyes rested down into slants. “I’m not hiding. I’m protecting you. I’m not watching the replay of his hands on you.”

His words felt like gasoline to the fire my body felt. My entire body ached for him. “We can make the rules. It doesn’t have to be how they want. I just want to be there when you come to bed.”

“Don’t you remember how much you hated it last time?” He scolded, leaving me there to sulk while he cashed out.

Gaining composure I followed him, “We were kids. I didn’t hate it…”

Dom’s mouth was wide and his eyes matched. All of him trying not to laugh as he chewed his gum. “All day training, endless meetings, shows at night, and exhausted afterwards. When I got back to the bus every night I could tell how much you hated it.”

“It was like being at your parents but worse. We shared a bed, Dom, but we weren’t having sex. There was zero privacy with your dad there and because I was with you two I had all eyes on me. I was afraid to even be myself.” Taking the bags we left the store behind and headed for his car.

Opening the door for me I slipped inside when he leaned down, his face mere inches from mine, “Selective memory, huh? That tiny ass shower, walking in on each other. We had some privacy.”

“It’s not just that, Dom. I was a ghost and no one expected any different. I was invisible all day until you dragged yourself to bed where we’d fool around but nothing else because your dad was on the same bus. I didn’t want to be reduced to some shitty orgasms, I wanted to be someone you shared your world with.”

The car ride back home was silent and I forced myself to look out the windows. I spent three weeks on the road with Dom and his dad before Dom was even signed with WWE. He was still training but they used him for storylines and Dom got to keep his dad company.

It was torture. I spent my days bored, my nights unbearable without touching Dom, and everything in-between had his dad close by. Enough to behave.

I didn’t want to repeat that, I just wanted to be close by Dom while I was pregnant.

“That’s bullshit. I was busy but you weren’t reduced to a fucking orgasm. We had plenty of firsts on the bus. Plenty… When you came on the road that was the first time we got drunk and fucked..” Behind the wheel, his hand found my inner thigh and gave it a squeeze.

“That was not the first time we got drunk…” my knees fell in his direction and I felt him hand only slid further up my thigh.

His cheeky smile couldn’t have had a better effect when he flashed his pearly whites at me. “No, but it was first time we fucked drunk, babe.”

[ flashback ]

Everyday felt like groundhogs day. Only I became more invisible as time went on. 

From the moment we woke up Dom would train, rehearse, do media, have meetings, and do a show. I would be left to my own devices, making friends with the crew or exploring outside the venue until I got restless. 

Every night Dom would crawl into the bed we shared, expecting me to want him when nothing had changed. I was still sabotaging every reason or feeling pointing to him. I still kept telling him we couldn’t and he would get frustrated enough to hate me each night I said no.

It wasn’t until I was venturing the venue I realized my backstage pass eliminated anyone asking me for ID when I added an alcoholic beverage to my order of fries. Dom and I were twenty, close of enough and had gotten drunk plenty of times while his parents were gone. Something felt especially dangerous about being invisible and drunk.

Not realizing how quickly I was slurping these drinks down I headed back to the dressing rooms, trying to find Dom before I missed bus call. Pushing the door open I saw a few wrestlers spread out and Dom getting undressed himself. “How did it go?” I said while sitting down on the bench behind him.

Looking around he almost panicked, “You can’t be in here. What are you doing?”

Granted it was the guys locker room but we were all adults. They all knew I was here for Dom. Standing up I felt my legs doing what they were suppose to but the floor kept moving, like an earthquake. “Okay, I’ll just go to the bus.”

His hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me back to his locked. Crowding me, almost hiding me, his low voice whispered, “Are you drunk?”

Laughing I responded, “Not yet.”

His hand smoothed down my back, stabilizing me, and cupping my ass like he knew I couldn’t stop. “Let’s get drunk and fuck… I have nothing tomorrow. No work. I miss you. I crawl into bed and miss you when you’re right here. I need you.”

His face was so close to mine I could feel his hot breath tickle my lips. Everything around us seemed to disappear and I didn’t care who was around to witness our tug of war of a relationship. 

“We share a bus with your dad…” I whispered so lightly it felt like a mistake as the words came out.

Dom’s lips brushed mine, pinning against his locker, and his hands trialing up my body. His hands stopped once he got to my breasts, hesitant, suddenly unfamiliar. We had been living in Miami on our own but we had given up teasing each other the way we did in high school. 

“I don’t care who sees or hears. I fucking need you. Every night for the past month I’ve been begging you to let me touch you… every night you say no. Sharing a bed with you in torture. I can feel you against me every night in barely fucking anything.” His voice shook, his hands shook, and his eyes begged me to understand. Dom was hurting for it and I was reason.

“It’s that bad?” I asked knowing the answer. My nipples responded the exact way he wanted when his hand squeezed my tits. 

“It’s you or someone else, mi amore.” He said sternly, clearly tired of our games.

My hands against his chest, I pushed him away, “Or someone else? Are you serious?”

“I’m not jacking off again. I fucking can’t. I need pussy. There’s a local bar, we’re all going to blow off steam and almost everyone is off tomorrow. I’ll meet you at the bus in half hour. I gotta shower.”

I could feel the buzz wearing off when I left the locker room only to bump into Randy. “Shit. You scared me.”

Smiling down at me from his staggering height and insane muscles he stopped, looking over his shoulder. “You going to the bar?”

“If Dom does.” 

“That’s your problem, you do everything for Dom. Is he doing enough for you?” Randy only paused for a second before heading into the locker room, not waiting for a response.

I went back to the bus, riffling through my suitcase to find a little black mini dress and some cute heels to wear. I could see Dom heading towards me in his off white shirt, black joggers and Vans looking sexier than I was prepared for. 

“Mi amore. You ain’t gonna take it easy on me at all.” Opening the bus door he pushed his back inside and put his arm around my shoulders before guiding us to some rental car. Slipping inside the back, someone else was driving, someone I didn’t know. 

The bar was busy, almost crowded, and the music was the perfect mix of 2000s and 90s. Waiting for our drinks next to the bar, Dom pressed himself against me, his hand on my waistline. Whispering into the shelf of my ear, “Are you going to let me fuck you or am I looking for someone else?”

It was crude, stern and I could feel his muscles etch into stone while he asked. He was hurting and now of that changed that I didn’t want to date. I couldn’t have us fail and lose him so it was easier to reject him.

“Dom…” 

“So you got all sexy for someone else? Cool. Don’t be mad later. Text me when you leave.” Grabbing his beer from behind me I wanted to explain but he didn’t give me the chance. 

I don’t know when Randy walked in or how long he was standing behind me when I twisted around hoping it was Dom again. “You know-” I cut myself off realizing it wasn’t him at all. “Sorry, thought you were Dom.”

“For you? I could be.” His crotch brushed my ass making me stand up straighter. “Is that all it takes to get you into bed? You’re too beautiful for such low standards.”

“Real smooth. Sorry if I don’t faint or spread my legs. I’ve been dealing with guys like you since fourth grade when my boobs came in.” I shoot back down the rest of my mixed drink.

Even more pressed against my back, his head dropped, speaking into my neck after pushing my hair away. “I’m not Dom, babe. I’m not begging. If I want something I take it. Look around, sweetheart, he’s moved on and you’re the one sulking at the bar alone.”

Twisting around to face him I glanced around the bar to see Dom flirting with some blonde. She was laughing and touching his arms. “It’s complicated.”

“You want him but keep rejecting him. He wants you and keeps begging. Sounds pretty simple. Do you want my help or not?”

I shook my head up and down ignoring the wedding band on his finger. 

“Order another drink. Relax. I’m gonna stand next to you like this and I’m gonna touch you, let me. He’s gonna notice and get jealous.” Randy’s hand smoothed down my ass, cupping and grabbing.

“Childs play. We tortured each other in high school with other people.” I sipped on my drink trying to imagine it was Dom instead. 

“Are you wearing panties?” He asked and I looked at him wildly like whatever he was about to say crossed some invisible line. “Sit down. Let me take them off, I’m gonna put them in my pocket.”

I down my drink and the shots Randy order, facing Dom flirting with some random girl I didn’t know. She straddled his lap and Dom let her. He wasn’t even looking in my direction. 

Pushing Randy aside I strutted over to him pissed off and drunk. “What are you doing. We sleep in the same bed every night and now you’re letting some slut violate your lap?”

Licking his lips he whispered to the petite blonde before saying loud enough to hear. “Let me handle this.” Following Dom to a quieter part of the bar he pinned me against the wall, his fists balled up and boxing me in.

“I told you. I need pussy. Don’t act like Randy wasn’t just touching your ass, Mami. Don’t act innocent.”

Pushing my hands against his chest, he didn’t move, smirking at me. “Fuck you.”

“Happily babe. I’d fuck that tight little pussy anytime,” his husky voice hit me harder than any amount of liquor. 

“You know we can’t.” I begged, exhausted and drunk all over again. “You think it’s not hard for me? The texts, the photos, watching you wrestle every night? It’s torture but I can’t ruin our friendship.”

“Years of avoiding us. Years of telling me we can’t even when we fucking do. What’s the point? Liv wants me. I don’t have to beg.” Lingering before walking away I felt every part of me hate him. Dom was cruel without having to be cruel and tonight was different. He meant it.

I watched Dom get drunk and handsy with Liv until it was unbearable. I knew I had to play the same game.

I stood between Randy’s legs letting his hands defile me in way I only wanted Dom to. Kissing my neck I giggled at how much it tickled while I watched Liv slowly convince him to go home with her.

This time felt different. We weren’t hurting each other but actually being selfish. Dom had needs and he wasn’t going to argue with me about it.

Forced to watch from afar I decided maybe this was the time to actually move on, stop playing games, stop waiting for me to stop being scared.

Feeling tipsy board-line drunk I couldn’t drink another sip of liquor when I watched Liv’s hand trail down his abs.

I mumbled to myself before letting Randy’s hand smooth up my thigh until it felt wrong. Nothing about Randy felt right.

“Just ignore them. Let’s get out of here…” My eyes kept glancing at Dominik and Liv pawing at each other like they were in heat when I couldn’t find Dom without putting my head on a swivel.

Appearing like I had summoned him with his arms crossed and a devilish scold. “Can I speak to you in private?”

Pushing Randy’s hands off of me I stood up and followed Dom, excusing myself quietly. Dom’s eyes bore into me until I felt like whatever disappointed speech he was about to give wasn’t even necessary anymore. By the bathrooms, the only quiet and private spot I waited for his cruelty.

“Are you fucking serious? Randy? Maybe you two belong together after all, you run to him every time.” Dom’s voice was ice cold when it skated down my spine.

I was too shocked to say anything. I couldn’t argue, if it wasn’t Dom somehow Randy was there to pick up the broken pieces. It wasn’t on purpose, not by me at least. “Why did you stomp over here, Dom? You don’t have to beg her, remember?”

His body was so close to mine I felt my chest labor every new breath. His eyes looked me over and hie tongue swiped along his bottom lip. “I know what you’re trying to do. You never had a hard time making me jealous. He’s not me, mi amore, he’s not gonna let wait for you to finally give it up.”

“Maybe I won’t make him,” I retorted.

I watched Dom’s hands ball up into fists and his mouth got tight. “You’re a fucking bitch. We’ve had sex, sweetheart, I know every fucking turn on because I gave them to you. I know when you’re about to come you close your eyes and bite your lip because we had to be quiet in my parent’s house. I know you like it from the back most because that’s how you fucked that toy when you wouldn’t fuck me. I know every scar you forgot how you got. I know every freckle. I know you’re ticklish on the inside of your right thigh, that you liked your nipples pinched not sucked, and you prefer my cock without a condom because it feels better. I fucking know you. We’ve had sex enough to know what we like. Why do you make this difficult?”

“Because I’ll hurt you eventually and I’ll lose you. I can’t lose you.” I pushed my hands against his chest, ready to run away again.

“Don’t make me do something I regret. Don’t make me fuck her because you won’t. I’m hurting, baby. I can’t sleep next you and not touch you anymore.” Dom voice shook and his eyes fell to the floor. Dom was really ever even hurt but the way his hands were shaking felt too real.

“I can feel your heart racing,” my palm laid even flatter. “Let’s go sit down, come with me.” I felt bad already but Dom was hurting in a way that was my fault without me realizing it. I should have found a new bed to sleep in, I should have had boundaries, anything to stop torturing him.

A dark corner of booths were vacant when I pushed Dom subtly to sit down. Climbing onto his lap I straddled him. “No one will see.”

His head rolled back and his knuckles swiped his nose. “Fuck. No, baby, I don’t want some quick fuck like you’re some rat. I wanna fucking touch you. I wanna see what’s under this dress. Fuck, I wanna taste you. You aren’t some cheap fuck.”

“Please, Dominik. You’re hurting, I’m gonna help.” Rolling my hips so lightly I tried to keep my breathing steady.

His eyes went wide and I watched him shift under me, creating space. “Wow. A pity fuck. I’m not drunk enough for that.” He exhaled a long drawn out breath before pushing me down beside him.

I felt defeated, stuck, trying to not ruin our friendship had became my sole focus and right now I hated it. I abandoned Randy, paid the bar tab and took an Uber back to the bus. Dom’s parents were big wine drinkers and his dad was fast asleep when I snagged the rest of his open bottle. Getting comfortable in our giant bed at the back of the bus I rewatched a show I had seen too many times to count.

Each glass of wine only made me more paranoid. I was checking socials, jumping at every sound, and praying he didn’t fuck her the way I knew he needed. The unmistakable sound of the bus door opened and closing forced me still, as still as I could be drunker than I was at the bar. Wine hit me more than any mixed drink did.

I didn’t bother to look sober when Dominik came through the bedroom door. Walking to his side I didn’t dare look but I could hear him getting undressed. I wanted to look so badly, it felt like it had been days since I’d seen Dom shirtless.

Laughing and struggling with his pants I realized he was as drunk as I was but yet I kept my eyes forward.

“How about that pity fuck now, baby?” In just a shirt and pair of boxer briefs he forced me to look at him.

“Dom… I was just trying to protect myself. It wasn’t a pity fuck, how is riding you in public pity?” The wine hit me even hard with every word as I shifted to sit up higher, closer to him standing at the edge.

“It was cheap, you didn’t want me to see you or touch you. Fuck, you didn’t even want it. I can’t fuck you like that, you aren’t some rat.” Taking off his shirt I took in every tattoo, every muscle, every way he was perfect.

“We're both drunk and your dad is sleeping in a bunk. I can get a hotel if the bed is a problem. I don’t want to torture you.” On my knees in the middle of the bed in his shirt and a thong I almost whimpered at the logic. I wanted to be reckless. I wanted to fuck Dom until I couldn’t anymore. I just couldn’t break his heart in the process.

“You’re sitting here in my shirt and a fucking thong, putting my feelings first when we both know you’re just as turned on as I am. You’re fucking made for me. I need you to take off those panties, mi amore.” Kneeling on the bed his mouth found mine and I couldn’t help kiss back. Dom’s warm tongue rolled against mine and I whimpered.

His fingers laced with the thin band of my thong, dragging it down my legs and tossing them to the side before stumbling back down to me. “Shhh, your dad.”

Dragging me down to the edge he stepped off enough to push his designer box briefs off. “I don’t care who hears as long as it’s my name you’re saying. Everyone knows we’re in love, you just refuse to admit it.”

My shirt lifted up while Dom’s hands cupped my tits. He said what I refused to, all in one sentence, not three words. “Dom,” I whimpered when he looked down between my legs.

“I know, it’s just a pity fuck so I don’t have to fuck my hand.”

On my knees I dragged him down as he sloppily fell on the bed. Straddling him again I looked down at him, still wearing his cross, looking up at me like I already broke his heart.

Sitting up I waited for him to guide himself inside me when I whispered, “Promise this doesn’t change anything?”

I sat down slowly, every inch stretching me out and sobering me. I moaned out the second our bodies were flush and every inch was buried inside me. 

“Why would it?” The disdain on his face was hard to ignore. None of this was going to be a good memory. “Nothing ever changes between us.”

Rolling my hips softly I felt his hands travel up the front of my shirt, squeezing gently. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I ruined it with feelings.” I stilled over him, not moving an inch when he fell back down to the bed, exhaling in this annoyed way.

Under me I watched him grow more and more unforgiving. “I left the bar alone. I pushed Liv away. I came home to you like I always do.” Pushing me off his lap he b-lined it to my cup of wine before continuing. “Like a good little boy. I’m always thinking of us when you don’t even want to be an us.”

“We are an us - just a different kind of us. Every time we fuck you pressure me into feeling guilty about not wanting to add feelings into the equation.” I was pleading with Dom to keep it simple: just sex. 

Sitting on my side of the bed he poured me a glass and drank straight from the bottle. “Because it’s never gonna be just fucking for me. I’ve had girlfriends and I’ve had sex, none of them are what happens between us.”

Taking another sip I wrapped my arms around him from behind, my body pressed against his back. “That’s why I avoid it, I keep saying no. Torture is easier.”

With my chin on his shoulder I looked down at his body and wished I was someone else. Someone who wasn’t broken the way I was. Taking my wine I pulled away from him, laying down and ignoring the still playing television on the wall. Instead I scrolled through socials. 

Without even trying I had drank my entire oversized glass of wine and scrolled to a video of Dom and Liv making out in a dark bar. I watched it more than a dozen times before Dom got my attention. “I’m gonna get some air. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Sitting up, more drunk, I asked him. “Are you going to fuck Liv?” The video was still looping on my screen in my hand. 

He stopped getting dressed and turned around to face me. “Do you want me to lie or tell the truth?”

“Lie,” my lip shook and I got up on my knees like his answer had power over me. 

“I’m getting some air. I’ll be back, you don’t have to wait up.” Dom looked me in the eye and I felt my heart panic. 

Taking off the only item of clothing, his shirt, off I sat back down on my heels. “Tell me the truth, Dom.”

Pulling down his shirt he stood there in front of the bed in the small room taking up the end of the bus. “Liv texted me. I’m gonna go over to her hotel room.”

“And fuck her because I ruined it.” 

Closing his eyes just a little long then needed as he paused. “You don’t get it, I’ve never needed pussy the way I do right now. I don’t know if it’s being pushed up against you at night, finding your fucking toy, I don’t know. All I know is I’m losing it. I can’t think straight. I can’t fucking rehearse or train. I can’t fucking sleep next you. I need pussy.”

“Don’t go. Don’t fuck her.” I pleaded with my hands clutching onto his shirt and pulling him closer.

Our mouths collided and our tongues immediately found heaven inside each other’s mouths. “Take these off. Take it all off.”

Dom pulled his shirt off effortlessly before pushing me back on the bed. Our mouths found each other again while my legs wrapped around him.

My hands pulled on the waistband of his joggers forcing him to push them down between our bodies. I forgot we weren’t alone when I moaned at loud at his knuckles brushing my clit while he lined himself up.

Dom was so hard it felt all too much when he pushed inside me. Every husky breath fell on my chest cause my back to arch for him. I always wanted Dom but this time felt rushed, no long let desire but a need. 

Dom’s thrusts were punishing, hard and pausing at the end just long enough to torture me back. “Jesus. Fucking. How can you feel this good.”

His phone on the nightstand buzzed and buzzed until he rolled his eyes and reached for his phone. Switching positions I sat on his lap while he laid against the pillows. Riding him, I rolled my hips and arched my back forcing my tits in his face when he answered. 

His finger over his mouth he silently told me to not moan even though his voice sounded labored at hello. 

I couldn’t hear it until he put it on speaker and dropped in on the pillow next to him. Relaxing more, he laid back, his hands working my tits. 

“Are you still coming? I’m wearing something you’ll love taking off of me..” the girly voice was easy to name. Liv.

Grabbing my hips, Dom forced me to pick up the pace when he hurried his face in my neck. We were both breathing heavily and the moans we were hiding wasn’t working. 

“I’m a little busy right now… Fuck… just like that baby.” Placing my hand over his mouth I muffled his moans. 

“You’re fucking that bitch? Are you serious?”

She started talking but Dom ended the call before I could register any real thoughts. All I could focus on was Dom jerking inside me and my legs shaking. 

Whispering against my lips, “Let me come inside you.”

I let him, just like I did before. There was something about the way he held onto me when he groaned his way to his orgasm that I couldn’t say no to. His arms around my waist he held me still, groaning into my chest, before he came inside me. 

He knew I loved him; he just didn’t know why I couldn’t.

“First time I realized we would always have separate lives to some degree.” I choked out knowing it was true. I would always be a guest when it came to his work and he would feel like a guest in our lives at home. There was no winning. No amount of me being by his side was going to change that fact.

“What does that mean?” I could feel his wrinkled brows glance at me with his hand strangled the steering wheel of his BMW.

I fixed my eyes out the window, “I’ll never be apart of that part of your life. Work takes up more of your life than anything else and I’m forced to piece it together Monday nights. I didn’t even know you were going to carry on some fake relationship with Rhea. I’m stuck at home watching.”

Starring at me instead of the road he snickered, “And I don’t feel the same about you being home? Getting to live the life I want to be living with you? You went on the road and hated it. Now they want you to partner with Randy and suddenly you want to travel with me?”

“Fuck you. This has nothing to do with him.” I argued. I couldn’t say I need to be there so you don’t cheat. That was only part of the reason, really.

The rest of the drive was quiet, so silent it almost felt heavy and when he pulled into the driveway I barely waited for him to turn the car off before I headed inside.

Last time I was on the road was torture and I was willing to give it another shot for our relationship. We weren’t kids, we couldn’t get drunk and fuck our problems away.

[dirtywresling102]

Pleasurable Mistakes - Jey Uso (18+)

Pairing: Jey Uso x Female!Reader

Summary: The reader gets caught having a intimate moment in Jey's room.

Warnings: 18+ Blog, Minors DNI, Smut, Fingering, Masturbation

Word Count: 3,578

Follow My Main Blog!: @dirtywrestling

“Once we graduate, we should totally get an apartment together to save money!” Jey smiled widely, his voice slightly cracking with excitement.

“Yeah! When you’re off traveling for the WWE, I’ll stay and take care of the apartment! It’ll totally save up money.”

“Can we get a dog?” Jey pointed out.

“How about a cat?” You persuaded.

“I can work with a cat.” Jey grinned.

“God, why don’t you two get married already.” Jimmy, Jey’s twin, spoke up. You and Jey gave each other weird looks before looking at Jimmy across the lunch table. 

“We’re not getting married.” Jey laughed.

“Yeah, we’re thinking financially, you know once we graduate high school you actually can’t really live on your own in this economy and the way it’s going.” You picked through your school lunch, regretting not taking your car to school so you could have left for lunch and get Taco Bell. It was such a nice day and your mother insisted you walk.

“Whatever, when I graduate I’m going to get into the WWE, find myself a hot wife and buy a house.” Jimmy nodded with a smirk on his lips.

“You, a hot wife?” You laughed. “You can’t even find a hot girlfriend.” 

Jey laughed along with you as Jimmy gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes with an embarrassed blush on his face, grabbing his lunch tray as he stood up from the table. “Whatever! You’ll see, Y/N, you’ll all see!” Jimmy stormed towards the trash cans, tossing whatever food he didn’t eat and headed towards his homeroom to sit and brew.

Jimmy in fact did show you, he got into the wrestling industry, trained hard and got himself in the WWE, it wasn’t long until he had a nice looking lady on his side and within a few years he proposed. You also showed Jimmy, you were correct all those years ago about the economy not getting any better, taxes were up, and so were milk, gas and rent in the nice city of Miami you grew up in, but you and Jey stuck to your word.

Right after graduation, you lived under your parents roof a little longer until the following year, once money was saved up you and Jey went on with your plan and placed a down payment on an apartment with a nice view of the Atlantic ocean. Popping open champagne on the first night in the apartment, you and Jey stood on the balcony, watching the waves of the ocean roll in and the moon high in the sky reflecting in the water. 

Glass in hand you stared off into the distance and on instinct, you placed your head upon Jey’s broad shoulder. “We did it.” You sighed happily.

“Yeah, we did.” Jey maneuvered his glass into his other hand while his right hand wrapped around your waist which immediately sparked something in you.

As the years passed, Jey went into some training along with his brother and they were immediately signed to the WWE, possibly because they were a package pair or because their father was also Rikishi some would argue but you’d always back them up and say they were there due to their hard work. 

Watching Jey and Jimmy take their career higher and higher every Friday Night made you a little closer to the brothers. Even though Jey was never home regularly he still made sure to text and call daily whether it be checking up on you or giving you an update on where he was at and when he’d be coming home. It made your heart swell knowing he was thinking of you but it also feared you. What was he doing when on the road? Was he at bars? Was he fucking women while celebrating his wins?

Then again, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you never asked any personal questions. You never pushed him when he came home, wanting to know all the details on what he did while traveling knowing he was too tired to do anything when he came home, bags in the living room and him collapsing on the couch. 

“So, any plans for tonight?” Jey asked through the phone that you held against your ear while typing a paper out for work. 

“Me? Plans on a Saturday night? Psh.” You scoffed following it with a laugh as you skimmed through the pages. “I’m just finishing this report for work, take a shower, have a glass of wine and most likely watch a show.” 

“Boring!” Jey sang loudly to where you had to pull the phone away with a smile. “You should enjoy yourself, go to the club and have men buy you drinks!” 

You could hear the playfulness in Jey’s voice but you couldn’t help but to frown, you wanted him to buy you drinks and take you to the club, not some strange man grinding against you and trying to get you drunk to have his way with you. Shaking your head you cleared your throat, shutting your laptop. “I’m good.” You reassured.

“Your Saturday night, princess. Spend it however you want.” 

You broke out in goosebumps at the pet name he gave you, wishing he really meant it and not in a sarcastic way. “I will, thank you.” You placed your laptop on top of the coffee table. 

“Well, don’t have too much fun with Mr. Whiskers. No parties.” Jey teased.

“No parties, I promise.” You laughed, just on cue yours and Jey’s gray tabby cat Mr. Whiskers jumped on the couch and started to make biscuits on the cushion. “Where are you anyway?”

“We just got to the airport, it shouldn’t be a long flight but I’ll be home soon. Oh, we’re actually boarding the flight right now, so I’ll talk to you later.” Jey said.

“Okay.” You bit your lip. “Oh and Jey?”

“Yeah, Y/N?” 

It was silent, you didn’t follow up with anything, your stomach twisted, you wanted to tell him how much you missed him and how excited you are to see him again after being on the road for months. “N- Nothing, never mind. Safe travels.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.” 

With that the phone beeped a few times showing that the call ended. Sighing out loud you set your phone down next to you. “Well, Mr. Whiskers look like it’s just us for a bit.” You looked over at him at the other side of the couch to see he was already curled up and fast asleep. “I guess it’s just me.” Getting up you went to the kitchen, grabbing a meal prep from the freezer and heated it up.

Chowing down on the rice and chicken with a side of veggies you tossed the plastic container in the sink reminding yourself to wash it in the morning. Tidying a bit around the apartment you wanted to make the place look nice when Jey arrived. Placing the vacuum back and all the cleaning supplies in their rightful place you exhaled a tired breath, looking around the spotless apartment. 

Satisfied with how everything looked, you made your way towards the bathroom, turning the light on and shutting the door behind you, you looked in the mirror. Dark circles were under your eyes as your hair was in a messy bun from a long day's work. You started to strip from your street clothes. Making your way to the shower you started it up, getting it to the temperature you wanted.

The steam started to roll immediately showing that the water was getting warm quickly. Stepping out of your panties and tossing your bra in the pile you pulled back the curtain and stepped into the water. “Shit.” You hissed, quickly reaching for the cold knob and turning it to balance the temperature. 

Humming softly as the water turned more comfortable to your liking, you bowed your head underneath it, letting it spray down on you and roll down your back. Goosebumps broke out as the water strolled down your body and the steam danced along your nipples, making them hard. 

Shivering at the sensation your mind went to Jey. Leaning against the tile wall with your eyes closed you slowly started to realize how much you missed Jey’s smile, his laugh along how he’d watch you everytime you cracked a joke or how his muscles would tighten and ripple from the pushups and situps he’d do in the living room. 

Your teeth nipped at your bottom lip as you started to think more of Jey in a sexual way. You’ve never seen what he was packing under his pants but you knew by the way he walked he had some size. 

Your fingers danced along your stomach, making their way south of your body and cupping your hot sex. Exhaling a soft breath, the tip of your index finger and middle finger swirled around your sensitive clit. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself out loud. Applying more pressure to your clit, you bite your lip harder imagining it being Jey’s hand toying with you. “Jey, please. Put it in.” You whined, your fingers still teasing your clit, slowly picking up the pace. 

Your cunt clenched around nothing, your stomach slowly started to tighten as you built your orgasm. Finally deciding to back off from your clit, your two fingers slowly traced your lips, collecting your dripping juices. “Oh Jey.” You said softly. Slowly inching your fingers up into your entrance, your cunt tightly wrapped around your digits as they sunk deeper inside. Your mouth collected saliva as the delicious pleasure started to drive up your spine. 

Slowly dragging your two digits out you plunged them back inside of you letting out a soft moan, echoing in the bathroom. Your wrist started to ache but that didn’t stop you from picking up the pace. Your fingers quickly pushed in and out of your slippery cunt, your walls squeezing and sucking your fingers back in with a warm squelchy welcome. 

Your thoughts ran wild as you imagine Jey, naked behind you grabbing your neck with his other hand while his free hand finger fucked you. “God, Jey. Gonna come.” You moaned out, your walls fluttering around your cunt. The warm water still sprayed from the head of the shower down onto your bare breasts as you tossed your head back against the tile wall with a loud ‘thud’.

The wetness of your cunt and your panting moans mixed in the air with the steam rolling around the hot shower. Your orgasm came quickly, coming undone on your fingers as they dripped with your creamy color. “Holy fuck.” You panted, resting against the cool wall with the mixture of the hot water made goosebumps rise on your skin again.

Slowly pulling your drenched fingers out from your aching pussy, you rinsed them off underneath the shower and finished up washing your hair and body. Once you rinsed yourself off, you turned the shower off and grabbed a towel. 

Feeling much better after a little time, you stepped out of the bathroom, steam rolling past your ankles into the hallway. You held the towel around your body tight and started to make your way towards your bedroom. Stopping in front of a closed door, you looked at it. Jey’s room. You never went in when he was out traveling, you respected his privacy too much to even step one foot inside when he wasn’t home. 

‘Don’t you miss his smell, though?’ A small voice in the back of your head announced.

You did miss his smell. The strong cologne he wore was always your favorite, smelling like hickory and vanilla. You squeezed your thighs together as your core grew warmer at the thought of smelling his pillows real quick. Looking towards the front door to see it was still locked and no sign of anyone coming in, you grabbed the door knob and twisted it, pushing the door open. 

Standing in the hallway you looked inside the dark room, flicking the switch on the room soon became bright and showed off his wrestling memorabilia. His room was neat and clean, dressers dusted and tidy along with the large flat screen tv hanging from the wall and his gaming system hooked up to it. You eyed his dirty laundry, seeing a sweater hanging from the side of the hamper. 

Stripping your towel off, you let it drop to the floor, pooling around your feet. Stepping out of it, you grabbed the black hoodie, holding it tight and inhaling his scent. Moaning softly you remembered he wore this sweater when he was making a protein shake after his gym workout. The memory made you smile as you slipped it on over your head and now covered your upper half and slightly some of your lower half. 

You inched your way to his bed, seeing how he neatly tucked his sheets in and the bed comforter pressed firmly with no wrinkles. You instantly ruined it as you laid on top of his made bed, his scent wafting in the air hitting your nostrils. Humming at the smell of Jey your brain became fuzzy and warm along with your cunt slowly started to throb again, wanting to be full once more.

You knew it was wrong, you knew you shouldn’t be in his room especially when he was on his way home. You nuzzled your head back into the soft pillows, gripping the chest of his sweater and bringing it to your nose you inhaled deeply once more. Memories of Jey flooded your mind as your heart hammered in your chest and cunt started to drip again. You needed another round to calm you down and this time in his bed. 

Your right hand slowly traveled down your stomach like before. You skipped past your clit, not wanting to tease yourself anymore as your fingers pressed against your soaking entrance you pushed past your folds with no hesitation. “Fuck, Jey!” You cried out, arching your back as your two fingers plunged in and out of your pussy. Your eyes closed tight as your head tossed back into the pillow even more.

Jaw slack and mouth hung open, your fingers scissored deeper into your pussy but it just wasn’t enough. You needed another, your ring finger pressed against your middle and inched itself past your tight walls. “Y- Yes, more, more, fuck Jey I want more!” As you had three fingers inside your cunt, fucking yourself, your lower stomach tightened, you could see Jey behind your eye lids, he was there above you fucking you raw and moaning with you. “Yes, Jey. Please ‘Mmm close.” You sobbed.

As your orgasm was about to ripple through your body you heard your name being shouted, your eyes snapped open while your fingers quickly drove out of your wet cunt as you quickly sat up in the messy slightly damp bed. There stood Jey, suitcase by his side with wide eyes and jaw dropped. 

“J- Jey! I can explain!” You grabbed the hem of the black sweater you wore and tugged it down your lower half to hide your dripping cunt. “I- I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” You apologize, rooted to the bed you couldn’t move but just say how sorry you were. You disrespected him, his privacy, his bed, the friendship. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you see Jey not moving from the spot.

“So,” Jey’s tongue darted past his plumped lips. “You play with yourself in my bed instead of throwing parties while I’m gone.” 

Still too scared to even realize Jey was joking you choked out a ‘no’.

“I must admit, this is a better sight to come home to instead of a loud party.” Jey smirked, his dark hooded eyes ran over your body. 

“Y- You’re- You’re not mad?” You hiccuped, tears running down your cheeks. 

Jey’s hands started to fiddle with his belt and unbutton his pants. “Does this look like I’m mad?” As he finished his words, he pushed down his pants along with his boxers, his hard cock sprung upwards, hitting his stomach. 

“Oh my god- Jey!” You quickly shielded your eyes, looking away from him in respect. “I- I.”

You heard more shuffling being done towards the doorway and felt the bed dip on the opposite side you were looking from. “Hey, Y/N.” Jey grabbed your wrist and pulled it away from your face. “Please, Y/N, I need to know if you really want this, if you want me.” He whispered ‘me’ softly. 

Finally opening your eyes to see Jey fully naked laying right next to you had your face heating up, your best friend caught you masturbating in his bed and now he was laying naked next to you. “I- I do want it, Jey. I’m so sorry for- for doing this in your bed.” You sniffed.

Jey had a large smile plastered on his face and tossed his head back slightly with a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting it but I much do love coming home with you on my bed fucking yourself silly on your fingers.” He groaned the last part. You caught how his dick twitched as he spoke. 

“Then yes, please Jey, I want you. I want all of you.” You begged him. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” Jey leaned forward, his lips crashing against yours in a hot kiss. Your lips moved along with his as he slowly guided himself on top of you, wedging in between your legs and making sure not to crush you with his full weight. “Been wanting to be in between these legs.” Jey said in between kisses. “Deep inside this pussy.” He moaned.

You whined against his lips, wishing you did this little stunt nearly ten years earlier but always too scared not knowing if he felt the same way you did. “Please, Jey. I’ve waited long enough, give it to me.” 

Jey shivered at your words, looking down, his hard cock was poking against your thigh, twitching in anticipation to be inside of you. Jey’s hand went in between your bodies as he gripped the thick base of his cock and slowly nudged the tip of his cock against your still wet pussy. You both exhaled a satisfying breath as he sank deeper inside of you with ease due to you preparing yourself for the past hour. 

“You feel so fucking good, snug around my dick.” Jey moaned. “Were you getting this pretty little pussy ready for my fat cock?”

Too dazed to even speak, you nodded with soft moans leaving your lips, your legs wrapping around his waist as he started to swirl his hips in a circular motion. “Hmm, Jey.” You moaned, enjoying how his cock stretched you wider. 

Jey’s moans rang in your ear, making your cunt grip his cock tighter in a reaction you didn’t expect. “Fuck, darling yes.” Jey hissed through gritted teeth as he started to rut his hips against you, his cock pushing deeper inside of you with every thrust. As he pulled his cock out it was slow, slightly painful but soon pleasure rushed through your body as he pushed back in. 

“Jey!” You screamed as his pace started to pick up in a sloppy manner. 

“You sound so fucking sweet, scream for me baby.” Jey panted, his wet cock slipping in and out of your tight channel. ‘Fucks’ and ‘shits’ escaped both of your mouths as both of your orgasm started to approach. 

“I- I’m close Jey!” You warned as your vision slightly blurred and the coil in your stomach started to tighten. “I want- want your come baby, I want your come!” You begged, rolling your hips against each of his thrusts. 

Jey nearly stopped his movements as he groaned lowly. “N- No! Please, fuck please don’t stop.”

“Fuck, the way you did that, shit.” He breathed out, his hips started to pump inside of you again. 

“That’s it, right there!” You cried out, closing your eyes tight you saw bright lights explode as your orgasm went over the edge, taking control of your body. “J- Jey!” You screamed.

“Yeah baby, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Jey moaned, his cock drilling into your sore cunt, sloppy wet sounds and skin against skin roared in the room along with his bed frame racking up against the wall loudly. 

His warm seed exploded inside your tight cunt as he tossed his head back, moaning. A thick vein appeared in his throat, pulsing as he panted heavily. 

“Hmm, oh fuck.” You moaned, wiggling against his stilled hips to feel yourself full of his come. “Big load.” You teased, feeling your pussy swallow his thick come. 

“You have no idea.” Jey panted, hinting that it’s been awhile for him from having sex. 

Jey slowly pulled his cock out from your abused cunt, the creamy liquidy mess dripping from your cunt onto his sheet. Jey didn’t care as he collapsed next to you, eyes closed but you couldn’t help but to stare at him. “How long?” You whispered.

It was silent for sometime as Jey just smiled. “Long.” He whispered back. “Very long.” He licked his lips, still smiling and cracked one eye open. “Since early high school.” 

You couldn’t help but to smile back at him, he wanted you and you wanted him and here you were, finally having each other.

[solitaryearthperson]

I'm Not A Hero

Summary: A mistake on a mission makes you question whether you're a hero and Bruce helps you.

(The reader is gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably a person of color.)

The sounds of bombs going off and multiple people screaming out was hard to get out of my head, but I tried my hardest to do so. People yelling, crying, and praying in multiple languages was too much for my ears to take. People scattered across everywhere, some on the ground, some in dirt, some in crumbling buildings, bleeding from injuries too severe to heal from was too much for my eyes. I kept seeing them over and over. Even though it had been weeks, almost a month, I couldn't get it out of my head.

"Kid, it's okay. Don't listen to them." Tony patted me on the shoulder and told me this the day after, when it was all over the news.

Every news channel had the same headline: Avengers saves the day, but causes more lives lost. And every one of them had a video of me, the camera zooming in on my figure. They would all pause right at the time my powers went loose and the headlines would change to "Did the Avengers recruit a villain?"

"(Y/N), don't think about it. The news is making it worse than it really is." Natasha told me this when she visited my room the next day, finding me wrapped up in my blanket and watching the news play the video over and over, staring at the image of me on the screen causing so much damage.

"The death toll is in the hundreds now, while the number of injured has reached the thousands," the news caster said.

"Most of those people were already injured or dying before we even got there, (Y/N)," Clint told me, after Natasha left, disappointed that her consoling me didn't help. "You saved a lot of lives. So many people are walking around, breathing, and living because of you."

It didn't matter if that was true or not, it didn't matter that there were people who weren't injured, people who survived and could get back to their regular lives. To me, none of it mattered if the cost of this victory was hundreds, thousands, or even millions of people dying or getting hurt.

I thought I had myself under control. I thought I could handle it. This mission wasn't my first, but it was the first that so many people had died because of me being reckless and overconfident, forgetting the strength of my powers.

"Come to the party, (Y/N)," Steve urged me, with Natasha and Clint beside him. "It'll be fun and we'll see people who are honored and glad that you rescued them."

The party they're referring to is some party/award ceremony being thrown by half the government and half Tony Stark for rescuing so many people. We'll receive awards, and be honored as absolute heroes of the country. I had informed them a few days before that I didn't want to go and instead I would rather stay in my room binge-watch TV, but they insisted, to the point that Nat threatened to kidnap me from my room and force me to attend.

~

"(Y/N)!"

"(Y/N)!"

"(Y/N)!"

Flashes of cameras and reporters calling my name was quite an overwhelming thing that I haven't gotten used to since being on the team. The others told me that it takes time, but if it ever gets too much, it's alright to duck out when I get a chance, and right now, that's exactly how I was feeling.

So many people yelling my name asking what designer I was wearing, what diet I was on, how often did I train, and other questions were still strange to me.

"(Y/N), can you show us some of your powers?"

The question caught me off guard, but I tried to not let it show and responded with a polite smile and said, "Um, maybe some other time. I will give you a great show then." I was fine until I heard the next question.

"Is it because of your last mission?"

The question made me freeze, and I looked around to find if any of the others were around to help me, but suddenly I couldn't find any of them near me. It was like they had suddenly disappeared.

"What do you have to say about the death toll now reaching 1,000?"

"What?" I asked, feeling my heart beat speed up. I hadn't heard about the deaths getting that high.

"Sources say that you have no control over your powers. Is that true?"

"I-I,...um," I didn't know what to say, my tongue suddenly felt numb and I could feel all the hair on my body stand up.

"Why did the Avengers recruit you if you don't have control over yourself?"

"How can the public trust you?"

I wanted to tell them that it was an accident, that it was one slip-up that will never happen again, but I couldn't make myself do it.

"(Y/N)!"

I recognized the voice but I didn't bother looking to see where and who it came from. Before I could hear another question, I quickly walked away from the reporters and left the room. I didn't know where I was going, only that I needed to get as far away from the party as possible.

Before I knew it, I was opening the door of a nearby hallway closet and ran inside, slamming it shut behind me. Not hearing any footsteps behind me, I took a deep breath and stood against the wall, trying to calm my mind and forget the questions, but it was too hard. How did I not know the death toll rose that high? How could I lose control like that? Why did I lose control? Will it happen again?

I could feel my heart beating hard inside me, like it wanted to escape my body, and I could hear it loud in my ears like drums. Why did I come here? I shouldn't have come here! I don't need to be here! I'm not a hero!

I can't breathe! I tried to catch my breath, tried to breathe deeply again, but for some reason I couldn't. The questions from before were now screaming in my head and the images of my blurry figure on the news kept flashing through my mind. I shouldn't be here! I'm not a hero!

"(Y/N)," I heard a voice suddenly say my name through all the noise. I hadn't even realized that I had closed my eyes and I opened them to see Bruce standing before me, closing the closet door, and looking at me with a look of concern on his face.

"Bruce," I asked, trying to breathe, but still failing. "What're you doing here?"

"I saw you rush out and followed you. Are you okay?" He stepped toward me and grabbed me by my shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly.

"I can't breathe," I told him, feeling tears that I had been holding in for the longest begin to run down my face. "I can't be here."

"Hey everything's okay," he tried to tell me.

"I can't go out there! I can't answer any questions! I shouldn't be here after what I did!"

"(Y/N)," his voice was more stern and when I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing but kindness. "Do what I say. Okay?"

I quickly nodded my head.

"Count with me. 1...2...3... Inhale...4...5...6 exhale."

I nodded my head again and looked at him while doing it. "1...2...3," I looked at him before inhaling, seeing him nod, then continued, "4...5...6," then I exhaled slowly.

"Good. Do it again."

We continued to do this for a couple more minutes. He was patient and counted along with me, then inhaled and exhaled with me too. Each time we did it, I began to breathe easier, and my heart beat began to slow down, but the questions and memories of the mission and the video on the news kept running through my mind over and over again. When he finally saw my breathing become normal, that's when he chose to ask the question that I was dreading to hear him ask.

"Why are you in here?"

"I couldn't take being out there anymore. I had to get away."

"Why? What did they ask you?"

Another question I was dreading to hear, but I tried to suck up as much courage and answer him honestly. "They asked about my powers, and what happened on the mission, and," I could hear my voice begin to tremble, but I ignored it and continued speaking, "They told me about the deaths...that it's in the thousands now."

A look of recognition came over his face and he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into a hug that I was not expecting, but greatfully accepted. Bruce was more shy than everyone else and kept his distance from the others, so this absolutely surprised me.

"I know how you feel, (Y/N)."

"You do?"

"Yeah," he replied with a little laugh. "The hulk had done some damage in the past. For good and bad."

Oh yeah. I had forgotten about the things the hulk has done. So many people are fans of the Avengers now, including Bruce, that I briefly forgot about the damage to New York.

"What do you mean 'you shouldn't be here', (Y/N)?"

Pulling away, I sniffed, and quickly wiped away the tears from my face before answering him, "The others wanted me to come, but I don't think I should be here. I don't feel like a hero. I feel like a-"

"Monster," he finished for me, making me smile a little. "The others don't have powers like ours. We make a small mistake, it can have big consequences."

"How do you deal with it? The death. Destruction. I don't feel like a hero anymore. I feel like a fraud."

"No matter how much that voice in your head tells you differently, you're a hero. You can't save everyone, all the time. There's gonna be lots of victories, but some sadness as well. Try to find ways to distract yourself. "

"How?"

He sighed loudly before replying, "Meditation, yoga, reading, maybe sports. Try to find a hobby that you know will quickly distract you and make you not think for a while."

As Bruce spoke, I couldn't help but be really moved and quite sad. I've never really interacted with him outside of the usual mission, and sometimes forgot he was there. This whole time I never thought about how he has gone through the same thing as I have and more. Realizing this also made me feel a little sympathy as well as I realize that not only has he gone through this before, but he's also had to cope with everything I'm feeling before, only he had to cope by himself.

"So do you wanna try going back out there or stay here a little longer?"

Just the thought of going back out there and knowing that there's a possibility that I'll have to answer anymore questions made me feel sick, so I quickly shook my head.

"I wanna stay here." He nodded his head in understanding and before he could turn, I asked, "Could you stay and keep me company? You don't have to if you don't wanna."

"Sure," he said, then took out his phone and moved to sit on the floor. He looked up at me and patted the spot next to him. "You wanna watch some Netflix till the party's over?"

I smiled and happily sat down next to him, ready to watch whatever just as long as I didn't go back out there.

"What do you think of 'The Witcher'?"

"My favorite," I told him, scooting closer to look down at the phone.

Who knew that me and Dr. Banner had so much in common with each other?!

[nightghoul381]

The Devilish Jack of Hearts

Here is your gift @pondlilies00 I hope this is good enough for you!! I tried a couple of other ideas but this one flowed pretty easily so I hope I was able to do Edgar justice and that you enjoy! Also thank you @lemeowade for hosting such a fun secret santa gift exchange!! Pairing: Edgar Bright x Reader Prompt: Enemies to Lovers Genre: Fluff and light angst

“Come on now, Alice. You can’t stay in your room forever. You must be hungry by now, so why don’t you join me in the dining hall?” Edgar’s irritatingly chipper voice seeped through the cracks in the door and you let out a deep sigh.

“I can stay in my room as long as I please. I don’t intend on joining you in ANYTHING, thank you very much. You’ll have to leave me alone to rot unless you let me go.”

You repeated the same words you had said every day since Edgar and Jonah had found you in the Central Quarter and dragged you back to the Red Army headquarters.

Jonah seemed to be genuinely concerned about your lack of eating and had instructed one of the servants to bring you snacks to keep your hunger at bay at the very least.

“You’re quite stubborn Alice. I’ll get through to you at some point, and you’ll be eager to have my attention.” Edgar’s chuckle faded away as he moved down the hall and you felt your shoulders finally relax.

Time ticked by, and the time that the servant typically brought your snacks came and went. You moved over to the door, unlocking it and peeking out into the hall. Your stomach had been growling and you were starting to feel incredibly thirsty as well. Where was that servant?

You spotted a flash of white and red and hastily ducked back into your room, closing the door softly and turning the lock.

Almost caught! You thought to yourself, although you’d not been doing anything wrong. You heard the sound of some heavy footsteps and clinking glasses approach your door, followed by three loud knocks.

“I’ve got your snacks, Miss Alice.”

The muffled voice sounded strange, but the hunger you felt was far greater than your apprehension and you threw open the door.

What a mistake that had been.

Edgar strode into your room, his hands holding a tray laden with various sweets and a large pitcher of ice-cold water. You felt your mouth begin to water at the sight of the delicious food, but the man carrying it made it difficult to truly let yourself get excited.

“Alice, you can’t possibly expect me to eat this all by myself can you? Come here and take a seat!” He stated, looking back at you with a knowing grin.

Damn, he must have figured out the little system you had going with Jonah and disrupted it for his own games.

“Why are you here.”

Edgar’s eyes crinkled with amusement.

“I’m here because you fascinate me. I want to know more about you,” he explained plainly.

“Well, I’m not some sort of spectacle for you to gawk at. So, if you don’t mind, leave.”

You motioned forcefully toward the door, frustration building as you watched Edgar slide out a chair and make himself comfortable instead.

“I wasn’t joking when I said I can’t eat all of this by myself,” was all he said before he started tearing into the various sweets and snacks on the tray. He poured both glasses full of water and you found yourself a bit mesmerized by the way his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

How is it that you’re so hungry and yet your mouth has now grown drier than a desert?

Much to your chagrin, Edgar catches you staring and throws you a saucy wink.

“I’m not the treat, you silly girl, come eat some actual food.”

You felt your face flush bright red and absentmindedly stumbled over to the table where Edgar quickly jumped up and pulled out your chair.

“I…um…thank you,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest and keeping your eyes trained on the table.

The soft warmth of a gloved finger touches your chin and turns your face to look at him.

You jerk your head back and begin aggressively stuffing your cheeks with strawberry macarons.

A low chuckle sounds near your ear but you do your best to ignore it and its owner, hurriedly finishing off the food and drink and excusing yourself to the bathroom adjoined to your room. You sat waiting for Edgar to leave, finally hearing a faint farewell and the sound of the door closing behind you.

Thus began the long pattern of Edgar intercepting the servant and bringing the food to your room instead.

You tried to fight it at first, but after three days of Edgar being the one to offer you the food, your hunger won out and you allowed him in.

Once again, he pulled out the chair for you and proceeded to take a seat himself.

Rinse and repeat, day in and day out.

Eventually, you had become accustomed to seeing Edgar’s vibrant green eyes crinkle with amusement as you sigh and let him in. You begin to answer his probing questions, throwing in some of your own. Like it or not, even though you were being held captive by the Red Army and the Jack of Hearts, you were beginning to enjoy his company.

--

Curled in your bed one day—a gloomy, overcast day—you find yourself anxiously awaiting Edgar’s appearance.

You had been fighting internally for over a week now, trying desperately to deny the fact that, despite him being the enemy, you could feel yourself becoming more and more drawn to him.

There was something so enticing about his charm and charisma that you couldn’t help but be moved by. He managed to make you laugh and your thoughts drifted to him more often than not.

Today when you heard the knock you bounced up, excitedly moving toward the door only to be greeted by an unfamiliar face.

“Hello, Miss Alice, I’ve brought you snacks as the Queen of Hearts has instructed,” the young man stated, bowing his head, and holding out a comparatively sparse tray of food.

“Oh… thank you,” you murmur, accepting the tray and watching as the servant scurries off down the hall.

The day repeated itself, the young man bringing you your treats and growing increasingly more uncomfortable as you find it harder to hide your disappointment.

By the time a few weeks had passed, you’d grown incredibly anxious to see Edgar again, to make sure he was okay at the very least. Right on schedule the servant came and delivered your food, but this time you stopped him from leaving immediately.

“Um, would you mind telling me… where is Edgar? I just…haven’t seen him in a while, which is a bit odd…” Even as the words left your mouth, you could feel your shame warming your cheeks.

Why not just come right out and say you miss him while you’re at it! You scold yourself for being so obvious.

“Oh, I thought you knew… we launched the attack on the Black Army… He’s been on the front lines.”

At this, the young man departed and you felt your heart clamoring in your chest.

He’s on the front lines. Was he okay? Did he get hurt? Was he being careful? Worried thoughts swirl through your mind and you slump down in a chair beside the table.

The thought of never seeing Edgar’s princely smile and hearing his melodic voice forces an intense wave of longing to wash over you. You lean over the table, laying your head against the cool wood surface and letting a single tear fall from your eye.

You know there’s no point in getting upset, besides you’re going to be leaving, returning to the Land of Reason soon enough.

You suddenly realize that you may never see Edgar ever again. Once you went to the Land of Reason, there was no point in coming back to Cradle after all. A few more days pass as you struggle to try to come to terms with your unwarranted disappointment.

Late in the night, you hear another knock at your door. You’d already received your food for the day and figure it must be a mistake. At first, you just ignore it; hopefully whoever it is will get the hint and leave if you don’t answer.

Another knock, then another. Finally, you sigh and begin to stand up when you hear.

“Come on now, Alice, this hall is particularly cold tonight. Won’t you let me in?”

You feel your breath catch in your throat. Were you hearing things? There’s no way he should be here right now, not if they were in the middle of a war.

You stop in your tracks, wondering if you’re just tired and imagining things.

“Please Alice, I wasn’t joking… It’s really cold out here.”

Your heart begins to race in anticipation. You ran toward the door, throwing it open haphazardly.

There he was, he was here, he was fine.

Without realizing it, you throw yourself into his arms and hug him, burying your face against his chest and clinging tightly to him.

“Well now, I suppose if you’re going to do this then the hall won’t be nearly as cold.”

His familiar chuckle fills your ears and you feel a sense of calm settle over you. Stepping back, you look up into his deep emerald eyes and search his gaze.

The tender look on his face made your pulse pound louder in your ears and his hand gently moved to brush a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I missed you too, Alice,” he purred, leaning his face achingly close.

“… I never said I missed you,” you whisper, feeling the warmth of his breath against your lips.

Edgar’s mouth quirks up in a smile. “You didn’t have to.”

In that moment you feel the soft pressure of his lips against yours. All of the anxiety you’d been feeling falls away as you give yourself over to his kiss. Your mind fills with relief and passionate longing as you continued to move your mouths together.

“Stay with me, Alice?” He whispered, his eyes scanning your face with a fervent neediness and you could do nothing but nod and pull him in for another kiss.

How is it that you had ever wanted to leave this man? You can’t imagine your life without him and his absence had been exactly what gave away how deeply you had fallen for him.

You knew his words held so much more weight than just asking you to stay for the night. The earnestness in his expression told you as much. The passion with which his lips attacked yours and you returned made one thing achingly clear: Your heart had been stolen by the devilish Jack of Hearts, and you had no intention of taking it back.