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ellswritings · 3 months ago

Text

Sparks Fly

Steve Rogers x Reader

TW: Enemies to lovers, Steve and reader are both jerks to each other, Tony being a little shit, spicy near the end but no smut.

»» ──────ஓ๑♥๑ஓ ────── ««

The briefing room in the Avengers Tower was already buzzing with conversation as Nick Fury strode in, trailed by a woman none of them had ever seen before. Tony Stark, as always, leaned back in his chair, sipping on a cappuccino with a casual smirk on his face. Natasha sat next to him, calmly tapping her fingers against the table, while Thor’s deep voice carried through the room as he recounted one of his many Asgardian exploits to Bruce Banner. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, stood near the window, arms crossed, his gaze drifting toward the city skyline.

Fury cleared his throat, immediately silencing the room. "Team, meet Y/N L/N," he announced, stepping aside to reveal the woman standing beside him.

Her presence was palpable. She exuded confidence, her posture straight and assured, with an unmistakable glint of sharpness in her eyes. Energy seemed to hum faintly around her, like static electricity that hadn’t quite dissipated.

Y/N stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the room with measured scrutiny. "Nice to meet you all," she said, her tone steady but not overly warm. Her eyes lingered briefly on each Avenger as Fury continued the introduction.

"Y/N is a new addition to the team," Fury explained. "She’s got experience in covert ops, but what makes her stand out is her ability to manipulate energy—plasma, electricity, heat. I’ve worked with her in the past, and she’s someone you’ll want on your side when things go south."

Tony raised an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. "Energy manipulation, huh? That's gotta come in handy at parties," he quipped, already leaning forward with that trademark grin of his.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smirk, meeting Tony’s challenge head-on. "I could fry your circuits in a second, Stark. But I’ll save that for when I really need to shut you up."

Tony’s grin widened as he leaned back in his chair, clearly delighted by her response. "Oh, I like her already. It’s about time someone besides Pepper was capable of shutting me down."

Natasha gave Y/N an approving nod. "Looks like Fury didn’t just bring you here for your powers. You’re quick."

Y/N chuckled, a sharp, low sound that made Bruce smile faintly from his corner. Even Thor seemed intrigued, murmuring something about the strength of Midgardian women.

But when Y/N’s eyes landed on Steve, who still stood apart from the group, her demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t smiled, hadn’t said anything to acknowledge her presence, his jaw clenched tight.

Fury, ever the perceptive one, noticed the undercurrent and turned toward Steve. "Rogers, you gonna say hello?"

Steve straightened, walking over with that stoic air he always carried. His blue eyes flicked over Y/N with an unreadable expression. "Welcome to the team," he said, his voice polite but distant, as if her arrival was nothing more than a minor formality.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the half-hearted greeting. "Don’t sound too enthusiastic, Cap," she shot back, her tone laced with playful sarcasm, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

Tony let out a loud laugh, earning a playful elbow from Natasha.

But Steve remained stoic, his expression unmoving. "Let’s just hope you’re as good as Fury says," he replied, his tone clipped, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Y/N’s smirk widened, but there was something colder in it now, a challenge flickering behind her eyes. "Trust me, Rogers, I won’t slow you down."

The tension in the room was palpable. The rest of the team exchanged glances, picking up on the brewing undercurrent between the two.

Tony, always the instigator, nudged Natasha with a smirk. "This is gonna be fun."

Y/N took a step back, folding her arms as she addressed the rest of the team. "So, what's the usual around here? Stark throwing more one-liners than punches? Or does everyone else get a turn?"

Natasha chuckled under her breath. "He’s definitely an equal-opportunity quipster. You'll get your turn."

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Tony. "Is that right?"

Tony shrugged, all amusement. "I like to think of it as part of my charm. Keeps the team morale up."

Y/N rolled her eyes, her tone teasing. "Right. 'Morale.' Must be tough for everyone else to keep up."

Bruce snorted softly from his seat, barely managing to suppress a laugh. "You’ve got no idea."

Thor gave a booming laugh, as though the banter between them were the most entertaining thing he’d heard all day. "Truly, Stark's tongue wields more fire than most weapons."

Y/N smiled, enjoying the back-and-forth. It felt like she was starting to find her rhythm with them—most of them, at least. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve watching her, his expression stony, arms still crossed. His silence was louder than anything Tony or Natasha had said, and it grated on her.

She locked eyes with him, folding her arms as she spoke again. "You don’t like people much, do you, Rogers?"

The question was sharp, and the room went a little quieter as everyone’s gaze flicked toward Steve.

Steve’s jaw tightened. "I like people just fine."

Y/N hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head. "You sure about that? You’ve barely said two words to me. Starting to think you don’t approve."

Tony leaned in, thoroughly entertained. "Careful, Capsicle. She's got you pegged already."

Steve’s eyes flickered to Tony, then back to Y/N. "I don’t need to approve. I just need to know you can do your job without putting the team at risk."

Y/N’s smile froze, her posture stiffening slightly. "I’ve been doing this for a long time, Rogers. I don’t need you to babysit me."

Steve didn’t back down, his gaze unwavering. "I’m not interested in babysitting anyone. I’m interested in keeping my team safe."

The words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, the tension thick enough to cut through. The rest of the team looked from Y/N to Steve, unsure of where this sudden hostility was coming from.

Natasha, ever the diplomat, broke the silence with a raised eyebrow. "Is this gonna be a thing?"

Y/N shook her head, exhaling slowly as she forced a smile. "Nope. No thing here. Just Rogers and I... finding our rhythm, I guess."

Steve didn't respond, his expression hard, but Tony couldn’t resist the urge to lighten the mood. "Oh, there’s definitely a thing here. This much tension could fuel my arc reactor for a week."

Natasha smirked, while Thor chuckled deeply. Bruce, however, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly not enjoying the rising tension.

Y/N turned back toward Fury, trying to push the interaction with Steve aside. "So, what's the mission?"

Fury glanced between Y/N and Steve, his expression unreadable, though he certainly wasn’t oblivious to the friction. "We'll go over the details soon. For now, you’re getting acquainted. I trust you can handle that."

Y/N gave a nod, though the corner of her eye remained fixed on Steve, whose stony silence still irked her. Why was he being so difficult? It wasn't like she’d come in guns blazing. Well, maybe a little attitude, but nothing she hadn’t done with any other team.

As the team began to disperse, Tony, Natasha, and Bruce began chatting amongst themselves, but Y/N lingered near the door, her mind racing. She hadn't expected her introduction to go this way—especially not with Captain America.

Natasha approached her, raising an eyebrow as she glanced back toward Steve. "Don’t take it personally. Steve's a bit... cautious when it comes to new team members."

Y/N snorted softly, leaning against the doorframe. "Yeah, I noticed. Guess I’m just gonna have to prove him wrong."

Natasha smiled faintly. "Just give it time. He’ll come around. He always does."

Y/N tilted her head, looking over at Steve, who was now talking quietly with Fury on the other side of the room. "I’m not the most patient person."

Natasha laughed softly. "Neither is he. Should be interesting to watch."

In the following days, Y/N integrated into the team—well, most of it. Tony, as expected, took an immediate liking to her sarcastic sense of humor, and even Bruce opened up more around her. Natasha and Y/N trained together, and Thor respected her power and confidence, even suggesting that she spar with him one day to "test her strength."

The only hiccup in the team dynamic was Steve.

Their arguments became a regular occurrence. Whether it was during training sessions, tactical meetings, or even casual conversations, Y/N and Steve couldn’t seem to get through a day without butting heads. The rest of the team watched their interactions with bemusement, Tony and Natasha often making side bets on how long it would take before one of them snapped.

One day, during a mission debrief, Steve and Y/N clashed yet again, this time over strategy. Steve favored a more cautious, methodical approach, while Y/N argued for a direct strike, using her powers to neutralize the threat quickly.

"You don’t get it," Y/N snapped. "We don’t have time to play it safe. HYDRA’s not going to wait around for us to make the perfect move, Rogers."

Steve’s eyes narrowed, his voice clipped. "I’m not playing it safe. I’m making sure no one gets killed because of a reckless move."

"Reckless?" Y/N’s voice rose. "I’ve been in more of these situations than I can count, and I know when to strike fast. If we sit around and plan every detail, people die."

The rest of the team sat in silence, watching the heated exchange. Tony leaned over to Natasha, whispering, "I give it two more minutes before one of them explodes."

Natasha smirked. "I’m betting on Y/N. She looks like she’s ready to throw something."

Steve crossed his arms, his jaw clenched. "This isn’t about how many missions you’ve been on. It’s about working as a team. You can’t just go rogue whenever you feel like it."

Y/N scoffed, stepping closer to him. "I’m not going rogue. I’m making the call that’ll save lives. You can either get on board or get out of my way."

The tension was thick, and for a moment, it seemed like Y/N and Steve might actually come to blows. Y/N’s eyes flashed with that same energy she controlled, and Steve stood rigid, unflinching, his eyes locked on hers.

Tony raised an eyebrow at Bruce. "Think we should step in, or…?"

Bruce shook his head. "I think they need to get this out of their system."

Fury, who had been watching the entire exchange with a neutral expression, finally stepped in. "Enough," he said, his voice firm. "You two can hash out your differences later. Right now, we need to focus on the mission. Rogers, L/N’s got a point. Time isn’t on our side."

Steve clenched his fists, but he nodded, stepping back, though his gaze remained fixed on Y/N. "Fine. But we do this as a team."

Y/N held his gaze for a moment longer before she finally nodded, though her jaw was still tight. "Fine."

Fury gave them both a stern look before continuing the debrief. But the air in the room remained tense, and it was clear to everyone that Y/N and Steve weren’t done with their argument.

Later that night, as the team prepared for the mission, Y/N found herself partnered with Steve. Much to her frustration, Fury had insisted they work together on this one, despite the obvious tension between them. She wasn’t thrilled about it, and judging by the look on Steve’s face, neither was he.

They moved through the HYDRA base in silence, their communication reduced to clipped, professional exchanges. Y/N used her powers to disrupt security systems, her hands crackling with energy as she sent short bursts of electricity to fry the cameras and alarms. Steve moved ahead, leading the way with his shield in hand.

"Left corridor is clear," Steve said quietly, his voice coming through her comm.

"Roger that, Captain," Y/N replied, her tone laced with sarcasm despite herself.

Steve shot her a look, but he didn’t respond, opting to focus on the mission. As they moved deeper into the base, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the weight of his disapproval, like a constant presence at the back of her mind.

She hated it.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from down the hall. HYDRA agents. A lot of them. Without thinking, Y/N raised her hand, preparing to send a pulse of energy toward them.

"Wait," Steve hissed, grabbing her wrist. "We can’t just—"

Before he could finish, one of the agents fired a shot, aiming directly for Steve’s head. Without hesitating, Y/N yanked her wrist free from his grip and sent a wave of energy crashing into the HYDRA agents, knocking them all back like rag dolls.

The hall was silent again, the agents down. Y/N turned to Steve, her heart racing, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"You’re welcome," she snapped, her voice edged with frustration.

Steve glared at her, his blue eyes flashing with anger. "I had it under control."

Y/N let out a bitter laugh. "You had a bullet heading for your head, Rogers."

"I don’t need you to save me," he shot back, his voice low and angry.

"Could’ve fooled me," Y/N muttered, pushing past him as she continued down the corridor.

Steve followed her, clearly not ready to let it go. "You keep rushing in without thinking. One of these days, you’re going to get someone killed."

Y/N spun around, her eyes blazing with energy. "I’m not the one who nearly got my head blown off because I wanted to play it safe!"

They stood toe-to-toe, both breathing hard, the tension between them palpable. For a moment, it seemed like they might start arguing again, but instead, something else crackled in the air between them.

Y/N’s gaze flickered to Steve’s lips for a split second before she snapped her eyes back to his. She saw his eyes do the same.

Neither of them moved for what felt like an eternity.

Then, before either of them could think better of it, they were kissing.

It wasn’t gentle. It was heated, desperate, full of all the anger and frustration they’d been holding back. Y/N’s hands gripped the front of Steve’s uniform, pulling him closer, while his hands settled on her waist, holding her tightly.

For a few moments, the world around them faded away, and it was just them—no mission, no team, no arguments. Just the two of them, caught in the heat of the moment.

In a fury of teeth and heavy pants, Steve quickly swoops her up in his arms, Y/N instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist. He shoves her roughly into the wall causing a low whine to escape her lips. Steve growls lowly at the sound before nipping along her neck to invoke a similar sound. Y/N digs her fingers into Steve’s scalp, lightly pulling at the hairs there.

He returns to her lips and she wastes no time in nipping at the plush skin. He groans as she pushes herself further into him. Even in such a heated situation, they still happen to compete with each other, find something to beat the other at.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathing heavily, they stared at each other, eyes wide with the realization of what had just happened.

Steve was the first to speak, his voice hoarse. "This… doesn’t change anything."

Y/N smirked, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

Without another word, they continued down the corridor, but the tension between them had shifted. There was still fire there, but it wasn’t just anger anymore.

Tony's voice crackled over the comms. "Everything okay over there, lovebirds? Thought I’d check in, seeing as it’s been awfully quiet."

Y/N rolled her eyes, glancing at Steve, who looked just as irritated. "We’re fine, Stark."

"Good to know," Tony replied, a grin evident in his voice. "Because I’ve got five bucks that says Cap’s blushing right now."

Y/N bit back a laugh as Steve muttered something under his breath.

"Oh yeah," Tony added, "this is definitely gonna be fun."

After the mission, Y/N and Steve continued to bicker, but there was a new layer to their interactions—something unspoken but undeniably present. The team noticed it too, especially Tony, who never missed an opportunity to comment on the "undeniable chemistry" between them.

Natasha, however, was the only one who approached Y/N about it.

"You and Steve," she said one day during training. "It’s… interesting."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Interesting?"

Natasha smirked. "Let’s just say, I’ve seen this kind of tension before. It usually leads to something."

Y/N didn’t respond right away, wiping sweat from her forehead as she caught her breath. "You think it’s that obvious?"

Natasha shrugged. "Obvious to the people who know how to look."

Y/N glanced toward Steve, who was across the training room, sparring with Thor. He caught her eye for just a moment, and she quickly looked away, feeling her heart race again.

"Great," Y/N muttered under her breath. "Just what I need."

Natasha chuckled. "You’ll figure it out. Or you’ll just keep fighting until one of you gives in."

Y/N sighed. "Something tells me it’s gonna be a lot of fighting."

Natasha patted her on the shoulder, her smile amused. "Just don’t let Tony see you slip. He’s got money on this."

Y/N groaned. "Of course he does."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel #tony stark #steve rogers imagine #natasha romanoff #chris evans #thor odinson #bruce banner #nick fury #the avengers #enemies to lovers

97 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 2 months ago

Note

Hello. I’d like to request a Loki x Fem!Reader. Not sure if you’ve seen Step Up 3 but the song Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan was played and basically in the scene the two love interests did a tango (I would look it up for reference 🩷). So maybe Loki and Reader are on an undercover mission and they get tied into a tango. You can interpret it however you want but I’ve had this ask stuck in my head for a while now. Hope you like this! 🩷🩷

BOUND BY DUTY

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff, flirty

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Summary: Loki has been called form the S.H.I.E.L.D. to help the Avengers with an anomaly that's happening around the world and you're assigned to be his handler. You were told to not trust him but what if under that mask of indifference there's a man just wishing to be loved?

ᯓ★ Word count: 9.7k

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think, just a few hated kisses and flirty comments

ᯓ★ I haven't seen the movie but I've seen the scene on YouTube (like just the 3 minutes ? scene) and really hop you'll like the story

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The air inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound feels heavier than usual. It could be the weight of the mission ahead or the fact that the one person who might hold the answers is a literal god—a god of mischief, no less. You’ve been briefed on Loki’s recent exploits, his failed conquest of Earth, and his punishment in Asgard’s dungeons. You know better than to trust him, but you also know that sometimes the devil you know is preferable to the devil you don’t.

Nick Fury has chosen you, of all people, to act as Loki’s handler. You don’t know whether to feel honored or utterly cursed. He claims it’s because of your “unflinching professionalism” and “ability to handle high-pressure situations.” You suspect it’s because most of your colleagues would rather face a firing squad than deal with Loki’s silver tongue.

The sound of the jet door opening draws your attention. You straighten your back and smooth your jacket as two Asgardian guards march down the ramp, their armor gleaming even under the dim hangar lights. Between them walks Loki, his wrists bound in glowing cuffs that hum faintly with suppressed power. He’s wearing his usual dark green attire, though the horned helmet is missing. Without it, his raven-black hair tumbles around his face, framing sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. His piercing blue eyes sweep the room, landing on you.

You can feel his gaze like a physical weight, appraising you. He smirks. Of course, he smirks.

“Agent,” Fury’s voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you slightly. “Take him to interrogation. The guards will brief you on his restraints.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, your voice calm and steady despite the flutter in your chest.

The Asgardian guards exchange a few words with you about Loki’s bindings. They warn you not to let your guard down—ever. You assure them you won’t, though you’re starting to realize that resisting Loki’s words might be a different kind of challenge altogether.

“Shall we?” you say, gesturing for Loki to follow you. He arches an eyebrow but complies, falling into step beside you. The guards trail behind at a respectful distance.

The walk to the interrogation room is uncomfortably silent. You’re hyper-aware of Loki’s presence beside you, his tall frame moving with a predatory grace. He doesn’t look like someone who’s been imprisoned for months; he looks like he owns the place, and you’re just a guest in his domain.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. Of course, he does.

“Tell me, Agent,” he begins, his voice smooth and lilting, “do they often send mortals to babysit gods, or am I a special case?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, determined not to rise to the bait. “I’m here to make sure you don’t cause any trouble. Think of me as your parole officer.”

He chuckles softly, the sound almost pleasant if you didn’t know better. “And if I were to misbehave, what then? Will you scold me? Perhaps send me to my room without supper?”

His words drip with mockery, but there’s an undercurrent of something else—amusement, maybe even intrigue. You keep your expression neutral. “If you misbehave, you’ll find out just how creative S.H.I.E.L.D. can be when it comes to disciplinary measures.”

“Promises, promises,” he murmurs, and you feel a shiver crawl up your spine at the way his eyes linger on you. You remind yourself that this is what Loki does: he gets under people’s skin, twists their emotions until they don’t know which way is up. You won’t let him succeed.

The interrogation room is as stark and clinical as you’d expect. A metal table and two chairs sit under the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. Loki looks around with mild disdain as if the room itself offends his sensibilities.

“This is where you intend to question me?” he asks, his tone dripping with derision. “How... quaint.”

You motion for him to sit. He doesn’t move immediately, instead watching you with that infuriating smirk. Finally, he lowers himself into the chair with the air of someone granting you a great favor.

The guards secure his bindings to the table before stepping back. You nod at them, and they leave, the door clicking shut behind them. Now it’s just you and Loki. You take the seat across from him, pulling out a tablet with your notes.

“We have reason to believe you have information about a recent incident involving extraterrestrial technology,” you say, your voice steady. “S.H.I.E.L.D. recovered several devices that match the energy signature of the Tesseract. We need to know where they came from.”

Loki leans back in his chair, the chains on his wrists clinking softly. “Ah, the Tesseract. Such a fascinating little trinket. Tell me, Agent, do you often meddle in matters beyond your comprehension?”

“This isn’t about me,” you reply coolly. “It’s about you. And what you know.”

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And what do I gain from sharing this knowledge? A lighter sentence? A pat on the head? Somehow, I doubt your superiors are feeling particularly charitable toward me.”

“We’re not asking for charity. We’re asking for cooperation. Help us, and we might consider negotiating with Asgard on your behalf.”

Loki’s laughter fills the room, sharp and cold. “Negotiate with Asgard? Oh, how delightfully naive. Do you honestly believe Odin would entertain such an offer? He’d sooner banish me to the farthest reaches of the cosmos than indulge your mortal whims.”

You suppress a sigh, already feeling the weight of this conversation. But then Loki leans forward, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Still,” he says, his voice softer now, almost teasing, “I might be persuaded to cooperate. After all, it would be such a shame to disappoint you.”

There it is again—that deliberate charm, the way he threads his words with just enough sincerity to make you second-guess yourself. You fold your arms, meeting his gaze head-on.

“You don’t intimidate me, Loki.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to intimidate you,” he says, his lips curling into a wicked smile. “Merely... entertain you. Is that not the proper term for what mortals call ‘flirting’?”

Your stomach flips, but you keep your expression neutral. “If this is your idea of flirting, I’m not impressed.”

“Hmm,” he muses, leaning back again. “Perhaps I’ve spent too long among Asgardians. We have a certain... flair for tradition. Shall I compose you a sonnet instead? Or perhaps challenge another suitor to a duel in your honor?”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You quickly school your features, but not before Loki notices. His smirk widens.

“There it is,” he says, his tone triumphant. “A crack in the armor. I knew you weren’t entirely immune to my charms.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you tap a few notes into your tablet, focusing on the task at hand.

“Let’s get back to the matter at hand,” you say firmly. “Where did the devices come from?”

Loki sighs dramatically, as if the question bores him. “You mortals are so dreadfully predictable. Always demanding answers, yet never willing to pay the price for them.”

“What’s the price?”

He tilts his head, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Your name.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“Your name, Agent,” he repeats, enunciating the words slowly, as if you’re a particularly dense student. “You see, it’s rather difficult to have a proper conversation when I must refer to you as simply ‘Agent.’ It’s so... impersonal.”

You hesitate. It’s not a particularly sensitive piece of information, but giving him your name feels like handing him a weapon. Still, you decide it’s a small concession if it means making progress.

“Y/N,” you say finally. “My name is Y/N.”

Loki’s smile softens, though it’s no less dangerous. “A beautiful name for a beautiful mortal. Tell me, Y/N, do all agents possess your... charm, or are you truly one of a kind?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” you reply, though your cheeks warm slightly at the compliment. You hope the harsh lighting hides it.

“Ah, but it’s not flattery if it’s true,” he counters smoothly. “And if I may say so, you wear skepticism rather well. It suits you.”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to laugh. Loki’s flirtations are relentless, but you can’t let them distract you. You refocus on the task, determined to get the answers you need.

But as the interrogation continues, one thing becomes clear: working with Loki is going to be anything but straightforward.

The quinjet ride to Avengers Tower is suffocating in its silence. Loki sits across from you, his long legs stretched out casually as if he owns the entire aircraft. His wrists remain bound, the faint glow of the Asgardian cuffs serving as a reminder of his diminished power. But that doesn’t stop him from exuding arrogance with every calculated shift of his posture.

“Is this where I’m supposed to tremble?” he muses, his voice cutting through the quiet. “The great Avengers Tower, lair of the mighty heroes who so thoroughly bested me.” His smirk deepens. “How quaint.”

You’re seated across from him, tablet in hand, pretending to review your notes. But Loki’s presence is impossible to ignore, his every word curling around you like smoke.

“Maybe don’t insult the people who’ll be watching your every move,” you say, not looking up. “They’re already not thrilled about this arrangement.”

He tilts his head, watching you with something between amusement and curiosity. “And you, Y/N? Are you thrilled?”

“I’m doing my job.”

“Oh, but your job now entails keeping me under control, does it not?” His voice lowers, playful and conspiratorial. “Tell me, how does it feel to hold the leash of a god?”

You glance up, meeting his eyes without flinching. “It feels like babysitting a particularly arrogant toddler.”

His laughter rings out, rich and genuine, surprising you. For a moment, you think you’ve caught him off guard. But then his expression shifts back to its usual smugness, and you realize he’s thoroughly enjoying this verbal sparring.

When the quinjet lands on the rooftop pad of Avengers Tower, you rise, gesturing for Loki to follow. He does, the clinking of his cuffs echoing as he steps out into the open air. The city sprawls out below, glittering in the early evening light, but Loki barely spares it a glance. His focus remains on the tower itself, his smirk growing as he takes in the structure.

“Ah, Stark’s playground,” he says. “I trust the man himself is waiting inside, ready to deliver a string of tiresome quips?”

“Something like that,” you reply, leading him toward the elevator.

As the doors slide open, Loki steps inside with the air of a man entering his throne room. You press the button for the common floor, bracing yourself for the chaos that’s about to unfold.

The doors slide open to reveal the Avengers lounging in the common area. Tony Stark is leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, while Natasha Romanoff sharpens a knife at the table. Steve Rogers stands near the window, arms crossed, his jaw tight. Bruce Banner hovers awkwardly in the background, glancing up as you and Loki step in.

“Look who’s here!” Tony’s voice cuts through the tension, dripping with mock enthusiasm. “Reindeer Games himself. I thought Asgard had a no-returns policy.”

Loki’s lips curl into a predatory smile. “Ah, Stark. Still compensating for something, I see.”

“Alright, let’s not,” you interject quickly, stepping between them. “Loki’s here to help us, not pick a fight.”

“Help us?” Steve’s voice is cold, his gaze sharp as it settles on Loki. “That’s a generous interpretation.”

“It’s true,” you reply, keeping your tone firm. “We’ve encountered tech with energy signatures similar to the Tesseract. Loki’s the only one who might have answers.”

“Because trusting the guy who tried to enslave the planet worked out so well the first time,” Tony quips, raising his glass.

Loki chuckles softly. “It’s heartwarming to see how fondly you remember me.”

Bruce shifts uncomfortably in the corner, his eyes darting between Loki and the others. You don’t miss the tension in his posture, the way his hands twitch as if ready to retreat at a moment’s notice. Loki notices too, and for the first time since his arrival, a flicker of unease crosses his face. It’s subtle, but it’s there.

“I see the beast is still lurking,” Loki says, his voice quieter now, though the edge remains. “Tell me, Dr. Banner, does he hunger for revenge?”

Bruce flinches, his face pale. “I—I’d rather not...”

“Enough,” you cut in sharply, fixing Loki with a glare. “You’re here to cooperate, remember?”

Loki raises his hands as far as the cuffs allow, feigning innocence. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten the good doctor.”

Bruce mutters something under his breath and retreats further into the room. You make a mental note to keep an eye on both him and Loki; their shared tension feels like a powder keg waiting to ignite.

After the initial round of barbs, you manage to get Loki settled in a secure room. It’s more comfortable than the dungeons of Asgard but still far from luxurious—bare walls, a simple bed, and a reinforced door with biometric locks.

“Charming,” Loki says, surveying his new accommodations. “I feel right at home.”

“Good,” you reply, leaning against the doorframe. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. If you step out of line, even once, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He steps closer, just enough to invade your space without crossing a line. His voice drops to a low purr. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t doubt your ability to... discipline me. In fact, I almost look forward to it.”

Your cheeks flush despite yourself, but you hold your ground. “Get some rest. We’ll debrief tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave, you hear his voice again, softer this time. “Y/N?”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder. He’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite place—curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper.

“Why do you trust them with me?” he asks. “Your precious Avengers. Do you truly believe they can keep me in line?”

You meet his gaze, your own unwavering. “I don’t trust them to keep you in line. That’s my job.”

His smirk returns, but there’s something almost genuine beneath it. “Indeed, it is.”

The following day, the team gathers in the briefing room. Loki is seated at the far end of the table, his wrists still bound, though his demeanor remains as smug as ever. A holographic projection displays images of the recovered devices, their design sleek and alien.

“These were found in an abandoned Hydra facility,” you explain, gesturing to the display. “They emit the same energy signature as the Tesseract, but we have no idea what they’re for. That’s where Loki comes in.”

All eyes turn to him. He leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

“Convince me,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “Why should I share my insights with you?”

“Because if you don’t,” Tony says, leaning forward, “we’ll lock you in a room with Banner and see how long it takes before the Other Guy wants a rematch.”

Bruce shoots Tony a horrified look, but Loki’s smirk falters for a split second. You notice the way his fingers tighten against the edge of the table.

“Enough,” you say firmly. “We’re not resorting to threats.” You turn to Loki, your voice softening slightly. “You know what’s out there, and you know how dangerous it can be. Help us stop it. Prove you’re not the monster everyone thinks you are.”

For a moment, the room is silent. Loki’s gaze locks onto yours, something flickering in his expression—something almost vulnerable. Then, slowly, he inclines his head.

“Very well,” he says, his voice smooth once more. “Let’s see if mortals can keep up.”

As the meeting disperses, Loki lingers behind, waiting until it’s just the two of you.

“Nicely done, Y/N,” he says, his tone almost... complimentary. “You’ve mastered the art of persuasion.”

“I didn’t persuade you,” you reply. “I just told the truth.”

He steps closer, his smirk returning. “And yet, it worked. I wonder, what other truths might you use to sway me?”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “Let’s focus on saving the world first, shall we?”

“As you wish,” he says, bowing his head slightly. But as he steps past you, his voice drops to a whisper. “Though I suspect saving me might be your true challenge.”

You watch him leave, your heart inexplicably pounding. This mission just got a lot more complicated.

The next morning, the Avengers leave in a flurry of purpose and energy, Stark’s voice echoing with instructions as they file out of the tower. It’s a rare sight—every single one of them heading into the field together. You’re left behind, tasked with monitoring Loki and keeping the tower secure.

The quiet that follows their departure is almost unnerving. You sit in the common area, flipping through a report on your tablet, when Loki saunters in. He’s unbound for now—S.H.I.E.L.D.’s restraints only used when necessary. His movements are languid, predatory, as he crosses the room with his usual air of entitlement.

“Left alone with me again, Y/N?” he drawls, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”

You don’t look up. “You’re always alone, Loki. I’m just here to make sure you don’t destroy anything or anyone.”

He hums thoughtfully, his sharp gaze raking over you. “I wonder, is that truly why you remain? Or do you find my company... intriguing?”

You glance at him, exasperated. “I find it tolerable. At best.”

“And yet, here you are.” His smirk widens as he steps closer, just enough to test your boundaries. “Tell me, Agent, what do you do when the others aren’t here to play their parts? Surely, you don’t spend every waking moment in this dull little tower watching me.”

“Someone has to.” You set your tablet aside and stand, trying to put some distance between the two of you. “Why don’t you make my job easier and sit quietly for once?”

“But then how would I amuse myself?” He takes another step closer, his voice lowering. “You may not admit it, but I suspect you’d miss my antics if I were to behave.”

You roll your eyes and walk toward the kitchen, feigning indifference. “Don’t flatter yourself, Loki.”

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. You keep yourself busy with monitoring systems and catching up on reports, all while Loki stays suspiciously quiet in his room. It's unusual—he’s normally a restless presence, eager to test limits.

You assume his compliance is a sign of temporary boredom. What you don’t know is that Loki is lying in his sparse room, calculating. He’s been studying the tower’s security systems, searching for a way to slip past its safeguards. Tonight might be the night, he thinks. He’s memorized the patterns, the gaps, and he knows he can vanish before the Avengers even realize he’s gone.

As the hours stretch into evening, you retire to your room, unaware of the god’s intentions. Your space is a rare sanctuary in the tower, a blend of cozy practicality and personal touches that feel distinctly you.

Loki waits until the tower falls completely silent. With a wave of his hand, he disables the monitoring device in his room. It’s a minor spell—one he’s been saving for the right moment. The cuffs are no longer a problem; he’s studied the locking mechanism enough to slip them off without much effort.

He steps into the hallway, his bare feet silent on the cool floor. For the first time in weeks, he feels a surge of freedom, the tantalizing promise of escape. He heads for the exit, his mind already planning the next steps.

But as he passes by your room, a faint sound catches his attention. The door is slightly ajar, spilling a sliver of warm light into the hall. Loki hesitates, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

He peeks inside—and what he sees makes his breath hitch.

You’re standing in front of your bed, freshly out of the shower. Your hair is damp, curling against your shoulders, and you’re wearing nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around your body. The bathroom door behind you is still open, steam curling into the air, and the glow of a bedside lamp bathes your skin in soft light.

Completely unaware of your observer, you move to the dresser, pulling it open to retrieve clothes. As you reach up, the towel slips slightly, revealing more of your shoulder and the curve of your collarbone. Loki swallows hard, a rush of heat pooling in his chest and spreading lower.

He knows he should leave—should slip away unnoticed and continue with his plan. But he doesn’t move.

There’s something captivating about this glimpse of you outside the professional walls you keep so firmly in place. You’re unguarded, human in a way he rarely sees, and it stirs something in him he doesn’t entirely understand.

He takes a step closer, his presence still undetected. The urge to say something, to tease you as he always does, bubbles up, but he suppresses it.

For once, the god of mischief is utterly silent.

You turn suddenly, as if sensing something, and his heart lurches. He retreats quickly, pressing himself against the wall just as your eyes flick toward the door.

“Hello?” you call, your voice uncertain.

Loki curses himself for his foolishness. He shouldn’t have lingered—but now that he’s seen this side of you, his desire to leave the tower has shifted. He watches as you step closer to the door, your expression wary.

He slips away, retreating to his room without a sound. Once inside, he leans against the wall, his mind racing.

The thought of escape still lingers in the back of his mind, but it no longer feels urgent. Not tonight.

Not when he knows you’re here, in the same space, entirely unaware of the effect you’ve had on him.

You find Loki in the common area, lounging on the couch as if nothing happened. His cuffs are back in place, though you notice a faint smugness in his expression, as if he knows something you don’t.

“Good morning,” he says smoothly, his tone laced with amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You seem chipper today.”

“Perhaps I’ve found reason to be,” he replies, his gaze flickering over you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

You frown, brushing off the unease that his words stir. “Try not to enjoy yourself too much. You’re still under watch.”

“Of course,” he says with a slight bow of his head. “But tell me, Y/N, how did you sleep? Peacefully, I hope.”

There’s something about the way he says it—soft, teasing, with just a hint of mischief—that makes you pause.

You brush past him, refusing to let him get under your skin. But as you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts.

And in his room later, Loki sits at the edge of his bed, the memory of you from the night before seared into his mind.

For now, his escape can wait.

The tension in the air was thick as the Avengers gathered in the briefing room, the holographic screen showing images of the upcoming gala. Tony Stark stood at the head of the table, his hands resting on the surface, eyes narrowed as he analyzed the data. Steve Rogers was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw set, while Natasha Romanoff sat with a focused expression, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. Bruce Banner, still uneasy around Loki, looked at the screen, then at his colleagues, silently awaiting the inevitable question.

"Alright," Tony began, his voice cutting through the thick silence. "We've got a masked gala happening in three days. High-profile event. The criminals we're tracking are expected to make a deal there, and it's our best shot at catching them."

"But they’ll be surrounded by a lot of people," Natasha said, folding her arms. "And these are highly dangerous individuals—some with connections to Hydra. We can’t risk a full-on assault."

"I agree," Steve added, his tone serious. "If we act too soon, we’ll spook them. We need to get inside, gather intel, and only move in when we have enough to bring them down safely."

"The problem," Tony continued, tapping a button on the table to bring up a closer view of the suspects, "is that they’re too well-protected. The best way in is through someone they don’t expect. Someone like... Loki."

The room went quiet. Everyone exchanged glances, the air thick with unease. Even though Loki had been cooperating—somewhat—the trust wasn’t there. Not after what he’d done. Not after the chaos he’d tried to bring to Earth. And still, his knowledge of these kinds of circles, his ability to navigate a room and blend in with the highest of society—well, it was a skill set they couldn’t afford to ignore.

“I know what you’re all thinking,” Tony continued. “But he’s the only one who can do this. We send him in as a guest. He can be charming—when he wants to be—and this kind of event is perfect for him. He won’t be recognized as a threat. In fact, they’ll probably be more inclined to trust him because of his past affiliations.”

“But we can’t just let him roam free,” Steve said, his distrust of the god evident. “There’s still the matter of him being dangerous. Even if he’s pretending to play nice, he’s unpredictable.”

“Exactly,” Tony said with a nod. “Which is why we’ll send Y/N in with him. As his escort.”

The room went silent again, this time for a different reason. Every eye turned to you, and for a brief moment, you felt the weight of their gazes. It wasn’t exactly a choice you’d been expecting. You had done plenty of fieldwork, but partnering with Loki? That was a new level of uncomfortable.

“Y/N’s been on the ground for this mission longer than any of us,” Tony continued, sensing the hesitation. “She knows the people, she knows how to blend in, and most importantly, she knows Loki better than any of us. She can keep him in check. Plus, we need someone who can keep him focused when things get... tense.”

You couldn’t help but shoot Tony a sharp look. “You’re assuming I’ll be able to control him. I’m not sure that’s realistic.”

“I’m confident you can,” Tony said with a shrug, though his tone was far from comforting. “Besides, we’ll be monitoring you both from the moment you step inside. We’ll be feeding you intel, and we’ve got backup in case things go sideways. But we can’t afford to miss this opportunity.”

You let out a long breath. The Avengers were right in one respect—this gala would be the criminals’ first big move, and it was the perfect chance to catch them red-handed. The only problem was the wild card in all of this—Loki.

“You do realize, he’s going to hate this, right?” you said, glancing toward the hallway where Loki’s room was. “He won’t go along with it without making some... demands.”

“I’m aware,” Tony said with a smirk. “But that’s where you come in. You’re going to keep him in line, whether he likes it or not.”

The idea of working so closely with Loki was disconcerting, to say the least. You weren’t sure if you were more concerned about his volatile personality or the way he looked at you—like he could read you with a single glance. Either way, being his partner at a high-stakes event was sure to turn this mission into something far more complicated than it already was.

“You’ll need to get him suited up,” Tony added. “Dress him the part. He’s got the charm, but he’s going to need the right... accessories to sell it. A tux, maybe something dark and mysterious. And, of course, a story. We’re going with the ‘rich but elusive businessman’ angle.”

You nodded reluctantly. “I’ll make sure he’s... presentable. But don’t expect him to be on his best behavior just because he’s wearing a suit.”

“I’m counting on you to make sure he stays in character, Y/N,” Tony said, locking eyes with you. “We need him to play nice for just a few hours. If he steps out of line, you have full clearance to use whatever means necessary to rein him in.”

Steve cleared his throat, stepping forward. “I don’t like putting you in this position, Y/N. But this is the only chance we’ve got to take down these criminals. You know the risks, and we’re counting on you to make sure Loki doesn’t derail everything.”

“I get it,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I’ll keep him focused. But if he decides to do something... foolish, don’t expect me to clean up after him.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tony said with a grin. “But seriously, we’re counting on you both. The gala is our best chance to catch them. You’ll be getting intel from us in real time, so we’ll know exactly when to move in.”

You nodded again, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on your shoulders. This wasn’t just about stopping criminals—it was about making sure Loki didn’t ruin everything, too. And while you could handle the job, you knew it wouldn’t be easy, especially with a god of mischief at your side.

As you walked to Loki’s room to prepare him for the mission, your mind raced. You were about to go undercover with someone who had a knack for turning every situation into a game. It was going to be a challenge, no doubt about it. But if it meant catching the criminals and keeping the tower—and your team—safe, you were ready to do whatever it took.

You reached his door and knocked twice, preparing yourself for the inevitable confrontation. It was time to bring him into the fold, even if that meant wrestling him into a tux and a plan.

Inside, Loki’s voice echoed through the door. “Come in, Y/N. I trust this isn’t a social call?”

You opened the door, steeling yourself. The mission was about to begin, and there was no turning back.

The grandeur of the gala hits you the moment you step into the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the crowd, illuminating the sea of elegant masks and opulent gowns. A live band plays a sultry melody, the kind that fills the air with the promise of secrets. Beside you, Loki cuts an imposing figure, his sharp suit tailored to perfection and his black mask veiling just enough of his face to make him look both alluring and dangerous.

You’re both walking a tightrope here, pretending to be something you’re not while still tethered to the truth. The mission is clear: mingle, gather intel on the criminals, and identify their deal. But the undercurrent of your arrangement hums just beneath the surface, threatening to pull you under with every step.

“They certainly went all out,” Loki muses, his voice smooth as silk. He offers his arm, and though you hesitate for a fraction of a second, you take it. “Is this where I play the doting husband?”

“Try not to overdo it,” you reply, keeping your voice low. “We’re supposed to blend in, not steal the spotlight.”

He tilts his head toward you, his lips curling into a smirk. “But stealing the spotlight is what I do best, darling.”

You give him a warning look, though your heart skips a beat at the way the endearment rolls off his tongue. “Save the theatrics for later. Right now, we need to find our targets.”

He hums in agreement, though the sharp gleam in his eyes suggests he’s more focused on you than the mission. His hand rests lightly over yours as he leads you through the crowd, weaving seamlessly between masked attendees. He’s good at this, you realize, his charm a perfect weapon in this environment.

“Smile,” he murmurs close to your ear, his breath ghosting against your skin. “You look far too serious for someone at a gala.”

You force a small smile, though the proximity of him sends heat rushing to your face. “I’d be more relaxed if I wasn’t babysitting a god with a penchant for chaos.”

“And I’d be more entertained if my wife weren’t so suspicious of me,” he teases, his voice dropping just enough to make the words feel intimate.

Before you can retort, Loki’s posture shifts ever so slightly. He leans closer, pretending to adjust your mask, and murmurs, “Our targets are at three o’clock. The tall one with the crimson gown. She’s speaking to a man with a cane.”

You glance subtly in that direction and nod. “Let’s move closer.”

The two of you drift toward the edge of the ballroom, positioning yourselves within earshot of the targets. Loki keeps his hand on yours, the intimate gesture lending an air of authenticity to your cover. You focus on the conversation happening nearby, picking up snippets of information about shipment schedules and encrypted codes.

But then, the music changes.

A familiar tune fills the room—sultry, electric, and unmistakably intense. It’s Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan, reimagined by the live band with a pulsing tango rhythm.

Before you can react, Loki takes your hand and spins you toward the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull back.

“Keeping up appearances,” he says smoothly, his mask glinting in the light. “We’re a married couple, after all. And what better way to celebrate our love than a dance?”

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, but you allow him to lead you onto the floor.

The second your feet touch the polished wood, his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you closer than you expect. His other hand captures yours, holding it just above shoulder height as he begins to move. The tango’s rhythm demands sharp, deliberate steps, and Loki executes them flawlessly, guiding you as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you say, breathless as he spins you.

“I’m full of surprises,” he replies, his voice low and magnetic.

The music swells, the band leaning into the dramatic crescendos, and you feel the tension between you and Loki rise to match it. Every step, every twist of your body against his, feels charged. His hand lingers just a moment too long when it brushes your hip, his fingers grazing the bare skin between your dress and his touch.

“You’re supposed to be watching the targets,” you remind him, though your voice comes out shakier than you’d like.

“Ah, but how could I focus on them when my wife is such a vision?” His tone is playful, but there’s something darker, more serious, behind his words.

As he dips you, your breath catches. The movement is effortless, but the way his eyes bore into yours makes you forget, for a moment, that this is just an act.

The song’s climax hits, and Loki pulls you even closer, his cheek brushing yours as he whispers, “Tell me, darling. Are you pretending to enjoy this as much as I am?”

Your heart pounds, though you refuse to let him see how much he’s affecting you. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you haven’t pushed me away,” he counters, spinning you once more before the final beats of the song.

The last note hangs in the air as Loki holds you in a dramatic pose, his arm wrapped around your waist, his face inches from yours. The applause from the crowd barely registers as you realize your breathing has quickened, your skin warm where his hand rests.

He smirks, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Shall we call this a victory, wife?”

You snap back to reality, pulling away just enough to compose yourself. “Don’t get used to it. We still have a mission.”

“Of course,” he says, though the glint in his eyes suggests he’s far more interested in the game he’s playing with you than the criminals in the room.

As the crowd disperses from the dance floor, you glance toward your targets, who seem to have moved toward a private balcony.

“Come on,” you say, tugging at his arm.

Loki follows, but not before leaning close and murmuring, “I’ll be thinking about that dance for a very long time.”

You don’t dignify him with a response, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you. The mission isn’t over yet, and you can only hope Loki’s antics won’t make things even more complicated.

You and Loki follow the targets carefully, keeping a measured distance as they make their way toward a secluded hallway leading to the gala’s private suites. The corridor is dimly lit, lined with ornate wallpaper and gilded sconces. The murmur of the crowd fades, leaving only the faint echo of footsteps as you press closer to the wall, your pulse quickening with the thrill of being so near to your goal.

“They’re heading to the west wing,” Loki whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “It seems our charming couple prefers privacy for their dealings.”

You nod, your heart pounding as you creep along the edge of the hall, trying to stay out of sight. The couple stops just ahead, speaking in hushed tones. Loki steps closer behind you, his presence almost overwhelming in the enclosed space.

“Keep your focus,” you hiss, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“Oh, I am focused,” he replies, his tone playful but quiet. “Though I can’t help but wonder how much longer we can linger without being noticed.”

It’s a valid concern. The targets seem engrossed in their conversation, but the corridor is too exposed. You glance around, searching for a place to retreat or a better angle to listen in, but before you can decide, one of the criminals glances back sharply, their eyes scanning the hallway.

“They’re looking this way,” Loki mutters, his voice low and urgent.

Panic shoots through you. There’s no time to retreat, no place to hide. Your mind races, and then—on pure instinct—you grab Loki by the lapels of his suit and pull him toward you.

Before he can protest, your lips press against his, your back hitting the wall as you lean into him. His body stiffens for a split second, but then he catches on. His hands come to rest on your waist, fingers curling slightly as he leans into the kiss, matching your urgency with surprising ease.

Your heart hammers in your chest, not just from the danger but from the sudden, electric sensation of Loki’s mouth on yours. His lips are soft yet commanding, his touch both calculated and possessive as he shifts his body to shield you further from view.

“What in the Nine Realms are you doing?” he whispers against your lips, his tone more intrigued than accusatory.

“Keeping us alive,” you murmur back, your voice barely audible as the footsteps approach.

The targets pass by slowly, their footsteps deliberate. You can feel their gaze sweep over you, but you don’t dare look. Instead, you pour every ounce of focus into the act, your fingers curling into the fabric of Loki’s jacket as you deepen the kiss just enough to sell it.

Loki seems to relish the role, tilting his head to deepen the kiss further. His thumb brushes against your waist, sending a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the cold.

A voice interrupts the moment, sharp and disapproving. “This is hardly the place for such displays.”

You part from Loki abruptly, your face hot as you turn to face the source of the scolding. One of the gala’s staff members, an older man in a crisp uniform, stands a few feet away, his expression one of polite disapproval.

“My apologies,” you say quickly, straightening your mask and trying to appear appropriately chastised. “We got… carried away.”

Loki, ever the performer, offers a sheepish smile that’s somehow more seductive than apologetic. “Forgive us. My wife and I have a difficult time restraining our passions.”

The staff member huffs, clearly unimpressed. “There are designated areas for such… activities. Keep it off the main floor.”

“Of course,” Loki replies smoothly, his hand still resting at the small of your back. “We’ll be more discreet.”

The staff member mutters something under his breath before walking away, and you exhale a shaky breath, your heart still racing. The targets are gone, having paid you no more than a passing glance. The plan worked.

You glance up at Loki, whose expression is unreadable behind his mask. “That was quick thinking,” he says finally, though there’s a teasing edge to his voice. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“It was survival,” you retort, stepping out of his hold and straightening your dress. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He smirks, adjusting his own mask with an air of casual arrogance. “Too late for that, darling. I’m afraid you’ve given me quite a lot to think about.”

You glare at him, though the heat in your cheeks betrays you. “Focus, Loki. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Ah, but you see,” he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr, “now I’m more motivated than ever to see this mission through. And who knows? Perhaps we’ll need to use that particular tactic again.”

You roll your eyes, brushing past him as you head back toward the main event. But as much as you want to dismiss his words, the lingering warmth of his kiss—and the way your body seemed to respond to him—stays with you, making it harder to focus than you’d like.

Loki follows close behind, his footsteps quiet but his presence impossible to ignore. And though neither of you speaks it aloud, there’s an unspoken awareness between you now—an understanding that something has shifted. Whether that’s a good thing or a dangerous one, only time will tell.

The ride back to the Avengers Tower is quieter than you expect, though tension hangs in the air, thick and unyielding. The mission was a success; you and Loki gathered enough intel to pinpoint the criminals’ next move and their precise location. As Tony pilots the jet, he and Natasha pore over the information, already strategizing for the intervention. Steve listens intently, his expression serious, while Bruce sits stiffly in his seat, keeping his distance from Loki, though the god seems entirely unfazed.

You sit across from Loki, your mask now discarded, but the memory of the gala’s events lingers. Every stolen glance, every near-discovery, and every moment you spent pressed against him still simmers in the back of your mind. You can feel his eyes on you, and though you refuse to look at him, your body betrays you, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Quite the evening,” Loki says suddenly, his voice smooth and low. His tone carries the same playful edge it always does, but there’s something else lurking beneath it—something darker, hungrier.

“Successful, at least,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you glance at him. “We accomplished what we came to do.”

“Indeed,” he says, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Though I dare say the evening held more… unexpected delights than anticipated.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can respond, Steve interrupts.

“Focus, you two,” he says sharply. “We’ve got work to do.”

Loki’s smirk widens, but he falls silent, leaning back in his seat with a satisfied air. You cross your arms, willing yourself to ignore him, though the memory of his kiss lingers, stubborn and persistent.

When you return to the Tower, the debriefing is quick and efficient. Tony projects the data you and Loki retrieved, detailing the location of the deal and the criminals’ schedule. The team agrees to strike at dawn, using the element of surprise to their advantage. As plans take shape, you feel a flicker of relief. The night’s tension will soon give way to action, and with any luck, this mission will end successfully.

Once the meeting adjourns, you catch Loki’s eye. “Come on,” you say, gesturing for him to follow. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

“As you wish,” he replies, rising gracefully from his seat.

The walk to his quarters is quiet at first. The Tower feels oddly still in the late hours, the hallways dimly lit. You lead the way, your mind spinning as you try to push away the lingering heat of the gala—the dance, the kiss, the way his hands felt on you. Loki walks beside you, his presence magnetic as ever, his gaze lingering on you even when you refuse to meet it.

When you reach his door, you stop, turning to face him. “Goodnight, Loki,” you say, your voice firm but polite.

But before you can step away, he moves closer.

“You’ve been avoiding my eyes all evening,” he says, his voice a low, velvety murmur. “Why is that, darling? Did I do something to unnerve you?”

“No,” you reply quickly, though the catch in your voice betrays you. “I’ve been focused on the mission, that’s all.”

“Liar,” he says softly, his smirk returning. “You’ve been thinking about it. About us. About the way I touched you, held you, kissed you.”

His words send a rush of heat through you, and you take a step back, your back hitting the wall. He follows, closing the distance until he’s mere inches away, his tall frame towering over you.

“Admit it,” he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You felt it, too—the spark, the fire. I see it in your eyes, Y/N. You want me just as much as I want you.”

You open your mouth to protest, but no words come out. Because he’s right. No matter how much you’ve tried to deny it, the truth is undeniable now, burning in every corner of your being.

His hand rises to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”

But you don’t.

Instead, you lean into his touch, your resolve crumbling as the need overtakes you. Loki’s eyes darken, his breath hitching as he realizes your answer.

With a groan, he closes the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s nothing like the one at the gala. This kiss is raw, urgent, and unrestrained, a culmination of every unspoken word and every stolen glance. His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips move against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

And to his surprise—and yours—you kiss him back with just as much passion. Your fingers thread through his dark hair, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the moment. The world falls away, leaving only the heat of his touch and the hunger in his kiss.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathing hard, your foreheads resting together. Loki’s hands remain on your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as if he’s afraid you might pull away.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse but tender.

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you press your lips to his again, silencing any words with a kiss that speaks volumes. For now, words don’t matter. All that matters is this—this moment, this connection, this fire that neither of you can deny anymore.

And for the first time, neither of you tries to.

The Tower feels different now, quieter in the wake of the mission’s success. The criminals have been apprehended, their operation dismantled, and SHIELD has taken over for the cleanup. But despite the victory, a strange tension lingers, heavy and unspoken. Fury and Thor are locked in discussions about Loki’s fate, and you and Loki are left waiting in his room, suspended in uncertainty.

The silence between you is unlike any other you’ve shared before. It’s not sharp with banter or charged with playful tension; it’s softer, quieter, tinged with something neither of you is willing to name.

You sit on the edge of the small couch by the window, gazing out at the city lights glittering against the dark sky. Loki leans against the desk, his long fingers idly toying with the edge of a book. For once, he’s still—not prowling or pacing, not filling the room with his restless energy.

“They’re taking their time,” you murmur, your voice cutting through the silence.

“They always do,” Loki replies, though his tone lacks its usual sarcasm.

You glance at him, studying his profile. He looks calm, almost serene, but you’ve spent enough time with him to see through the mask. The faint furrow in his brow, the tension in his jaw, the way his hands grip the book just a little too tightly—they all betray him.

“They’ll make the right decision,” you say softly, more to yourself than to him.

He scoffs lightly but doesn’t look at you. “The right decision,” he repeats, the words laced with bitterness. “That depends entirely on who is defining it.”

You sigh, standing and moving closer to him. “Loki, you helped. You could’ve run at any point during this mission, but you didn’t. That has to count for something.”

His lips twist into a faint smirk, though there’s no humor in it. “And do you think that will sway Fury or my brother? Do you think they’ll forget what I’ve done? The chaos, the destruction?”

“They don’t have to forget,” you say, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “But they can see that you’re not the same person who attacked New York. You’ve changed, Loki.”

His gaze finally lifts to meet yours, and for a moment, something raw flashes in his eyes—something vulnerable and uncertain. “Have I?”

You place your hand over his, stilling his restless movements. “Yes. You have. I see it. And if they can’t, then that’s their failure, not yours.”

The room falls into silence again, but this time, it feels different. Loki’s hand shifts beneath yours, his fingers curling around yours as he exhales slowly.

“What do you think they’ll decide?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But whatever happens, we’ll face it. Together.”

His eyes search yours, and for a moment, the mask falls away entirely. You see the man beneath—the uncertainty, the fear, the hope he doesn’t dare acknowledge.

“You say that as if you’ll still be by my side when this is over,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You don’t hesitate. “I will be.”

His hand tightens on yours, his eyes holding yours as if trying to memorize every detail. Then, without warning, he pulls you closer, his other hand rising to cradle your face.

“If this is to be the last time we’re alone,” he says, his voice trembling slightly, “then let it be a moment worth remembering.”

Your heart aches at the words, at the vulnerability he’s showing. But you don’t argue. Instead, you lean into him, closing the gap between you.

The kiss is different this time. It’s not urgent or hungry but slow and lingering, filled with a quiet desperation. His lips move against yours as if savoring every second, every touch, every taste. His hands are gentle, one cradling your cheek while the other rests on your waist, anchoring you to him.

You lose yourself in him, in the way he holds you like you’re something fragile and precious, in the way his touch feels like both a promise and a farewell.

When you finally part, your foreheads rest together, and the world outside feels impossibly far away.

“No matter what they decide,” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly, “you’re not alone. You never will be.”

For a long moment, Loki doesn’t speak. Then he nods, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he closes his eyes.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, the words so quiet you almost miss them.

The two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the world outside fade away. For now, there’s no SHIELD, no judgment, no uncertain future. There’s only this—this moment, this connection, this fragile yet unbreakable bond.

And for now, that’s enough.

The knock at the door comes like a thunderclap, shattering the fragile stillness you and Loki have wrapped yourselves in. You tense in his arms, and his grip on you tightens briefly before he lets you go, stepping back as though putting distance between you is the only way to shield himself from what’s coming.

You take a deep breath and move to answer the door, Loki trailing behind you. When you open it, you’re greeted by the imposing figures of Nick Fury and Thor. Fury’s face is unreadable, his single eye piercing as it moves between you and Loki. Thor’s expression is graver than you’ve ever seen it, a heaviness in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“May we come in?” Fury asks, his voice clipped.

You nod, stepping aside to let them enter. Loki lingers near the window, his posture deceptively casual as he leans against the wall. But you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curl faintly against his sides.

Fury and Thor take positions near the center of the room, both of them standing tall and commanding. Thor’s gaze lingers on Loki, a mix of concern and judgment flashing across his face.

“We’ve reached a decision,” Fury begins, his tone as sharp as ever. “It wasn’t an easy one, considering everything Loki has done in the past and the risks he poses in the future.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you glance at Loki. He’s staring at Fury now, his expression a careful mask of indifference.

“Loki Laufeyson,” Thor says, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “Your actions during this mission have proven that you are capable of aiding Midgard without causing harm. However, they do not erase the destruction you have wrought.”

Loki raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “How magnanimous of you, brother. Do get to the point.”

Thor’s jaw tightens, but he presses on. “You will not be returned to Asgard’s dungeons. Instead, you will remain here, under the supervision of SHIELD and the Avengers. Your movements will be restricted, and any deviation from the terms of your parole will result in severe consequences.”

Fury nods. “Think of it as probation. You step out of line, you’re done. No exceptions.”

You exhale a shaky breath, relief flooding through you despite the harshness of their words. Loki isn’t going back to Asgard’s prison. He isn’t being taken away.

Loki, however, seems less than impressed. “So, I am to be your prisoner still, but with a longer leash?”

“Consider it an opportunity,” Thor says, his tone softening slightly. “To prove that you are more than your past mistakes.”

Loki’s smirk fades, and for a moment, something unreadable flashes in his eyes. He looks away, his gaze drifting to the window.

“And what role do I play in this… probation?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“You’ll assist the Avengers as needed,” Fury says bluntly. “Your skills are… useful, when not being used to destroy things.”

“Charming,” Loki mutters.

Fury ignores the comment, turning his attention to you. “As for you, Y/N, you’ll remain his primary handler. You’ve proven capable of keeping him in check, and frankly, you’re the only one he seems remotely willing to listen to.”

The weight of the responsibility settles over you, but you nod firmly. “Understood.”

Thor steps forward then, his gaze fixed on Loki. “Do not squander this chance, brother. It may be the only one you are given.”

Loki meets his gaze, his expression unreadable. “I’ll endeavor not to disappoint you, Thor.”

The words are polite, but there’s a sharpness to them, a bitterness that hasn’t faded. Thor watches him for a moment longer before nodding and turning to leave. Fury follows, but not before giving you a pointed look.

“Keep him in line,” he says, and then he’s gone, the door closing behind him.

The room falls into silence again, heavier now than before. You turn to Loki, who remains by the window, his back to you.

“Well,” he says finally, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “It seems I’m to be your ward indefinitely. I hope you’re prepared for the burden.”

You take a step closer, your heart aching at the undercurrent of vulnerability in his tone. “Loki… this is a second chance. They didn’t have to give you that.”

He turns to face you, his expression guarded. “A second chance to serve as their pet sorcerer, you mean. To be tolerated, not trusted.”

“It’s more than that,” you insist, moving closer still. “It’s a chance to prove them wrong. To show them who you really are.”

“And who is that, Y/N?” he asks, his voice dropping. “Who do you think I really am?”

You hesitate, your throat tightening as you search for the right words. “I think you’re someone who’s been hurt, someone who’s made mistakes, but someone who’s still capable of doing good. Of being… more.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. Then, to your surprise, he chuckles—a quiet, almost bitter sound.

“You are a strange woman, Y/N,” he says, shaking his head. “But perhaps that’s what I need.”

You smile faintly, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’ll never have to face this alone, Loki. Not as long as I’m here.”

He gazes at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, he lifts a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“You’re maddening, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low and tender.

“Then we’re even,” you reply, your lips quirking into a faint smile.

For the first time that night, his smirk softens into something more genuine. And as he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, the weight of the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

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hauntedwitch04 · 8 months ago

Text

Neighbor

Steve Harrington x reader

Words: about 0.8k words

Warnings: smut, possessive!Steve, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 13: Caught masturbation

-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Steve Harrington and you have been neighbors since you were born. When you were younger you spent hours and hours playing in the backyard, and when your parents forced you into the house, you kept playing in your rooms, since your windows were in front of each other. You used to spend hours looking out, imagining adventures and exploits of the older heroes, playing at being big, not knowing that after all, you grow up too fast.

You and Steve remained very good friends until high school, when he decided that you were not popular enough to be seen with him and that he needed to find new, "cooler" friends to really be somebody. This of course had made you feel very bad, but fortunately you had met other people, better than King Steve, who had become your friends, like Robyn, a skinny blond girl who played in the school band and was a real genius as well as being a very good friend. You and Steve didn't even say hello to each other anymore when you walked past each other to go to your rooms Those windows that used to be portals into each other's world were now nothing more than what they really are: cold pieces of glass, allowing each other to peek into the other person's life hoping it would be worse than their own.

Everything had remained that way until this evening.

Steve recently returned from yet another party; he doesn't even know how he managed to get home to tell the truth, since he doesn't even remember getting into the car.

The boy is lying on the bed, still looking at the ceiling and wondering how many drinks he has had, when he realizes that your bedroom window is open, which is not so strange since it is the middle of summer and the muggy heat is unbearable at night, but usually the curtain was always drawn so that no one could see your little piece of heaven.

Steve, confused by alcohol does not realize what he is doing, and so in the dark, he sits on the bed and starts looking at you, trying to figure out what you were doing.

Your room has not changed that much since you were children, but some posters and books now adorn those walls that little you had so insisted on, being your favorite color. The desk is covered with open school books and notes, while on the floor was a pile of clothes, probably dirty, among which Steve could make out some clothing you had worn in the past few days.

The boy's eyes roam all over the room, trying to absorb the details of your life, looking and hoping to recognize deep down the little girl he was in love with as a child. All until he sees you.

You're lying in bed, in semi-darkness, but somehow Steve can see you, wearing a simple tank top and a pair of summer shorts, hoping to fight the heat; but it's not how you're dressed that shocks the boy, but what you're doing.

Your eyes are closed, while your head is resting on the pillow. Your right hand squeezes your right breast, since you are not wearing a bra, from above your shirt, while your left hand is in your shorts. Your mouth is ajar as you let muted moans slip from your lips as you chase your pleasure.

Steve freezes for a second looking at you knowing it is wrong what he is doing, yet he cannot shake his eyes off you. He feels his erection growing in his pants, to the point that it hurts so much that he can no longer avoid touching himself, first from above the fabric, then in desperation, he unzips the zipper of the jeans he is wearing and pulls out his member, beginning to lightly massage it. All this without ever taking his eyes off you, as if you were a magnet.

She watches as your fingers continue to circle your most sensitive spot, faster and faster and hungrier. Your breathing becomes labored and uneven, until a few minutes later you reach orgasm. Slowly your fingers stop moving, and you try to catch your breath. Your eyes are still closed and you can't see in the house in front of you, your neighbor masturbating at the sight of you climax.

Steve also comes to orgasm, a couple of minutes after you do, thus making time to hide well in the shadows, when you open your eyes, looking around as if you have the feeling you are being watched. He watches you settle down for a moment, before getting up to go to the bathroom, and at that moment Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High School, decides something.

The next orgasm you have will be at his hands.

TAGLIST

@digitalhearts @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @ash04w3 @123345566 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @nightfiress @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr @starsval @imaraccoon @CaptainsBaby @titinkaaa @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @aunicornmademedoit @AlohaStitch0626

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #kinktober 2023 #becky's writing

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arc-misadventures · 1 year ago

Text

There’s Something On Your Face

Another day, another dollar, another poorly written news story.

Jaune Arc may have finally landed his dream job at the, Daily Planet. Being able to tell, and explore various stories that help inform people throughout the world. Being able to see, and hear all sort of things. And, being around some of the most talented reporters in the world. It was his dream come true!

But, good gods the people here were illiterate.

Jaune: Haaa… Good lord…

Nora: What’s wrong, Jaune?

Jaune: This place is filled with some of the most talented news reporters in the country, but they all seemingly pose the writing capabilities of an eight grader! Which isn’t all the surprising considering the country’s falling education system…

Nora: Why, what did they spell wrong?

Jaune: Ruby, was writing a report about the ecological damage, Lex Corp has committed in that gas leak we had the other week. And, she wrote: ‘The effects of the ass leak will have unseen effects…’ Ass leak… Good lord…

Nora: Well… it’s where gas leaks emanate from.

Jaune: …

Jaune: You’ve been hanging around, Yang too much. That… that was just horrible.

Nora: She makes worse puns than that, and you know it.

Jaune: True. Speaking of bad puns, where is, Yang?

Nora: I don’t know, maybe she got an exclusive scoop, and had to go report on it again.

Jaune: Yeah, another exclusive scoop…

Jaune turned to look outside, his mind gazing over the familiar high rise landscape before him as a question that had been plaguing him ran amok. That stopped when he saw a green blur fly past followed by a white figure chasing after it.

Jaune: Oh, looks like, Superwoman’s got a dancing partner. Though I don’t think it’s a good dancing partner.

Nora: Wait, what?!

He said this as nonchalantly, and generally uncaring as possible as he saw his coworkers rush to the window to see what was a abuzz.

Jaune had been at the, Daily Planet well before, Superwoman had arrived. He had reported on her first exploits as a hero saving, Metropolis. Had conducted several personal one on one interviews with her. Hell, he had even been saved by her a few times. So seeing her go about doing superhero things like saving the city from an alien invasion, some villain with a massive ego boner, or simply saving some kids kitten stuck in a tree, he had seen it, and written about dozens of times before. It was time that the new blood reported on such stories. Besides, he would know about it all in the end anyway, when he checked up on their atrocious grammar mistakes anyway.

But, as, Jaune looked through the window to see, Superwoman’s white cape billowing in the wind. Her dazzling smile radiating the sky as he blond locks of hair shined seemingly created a halo of light around her. Making her appear like an angel in the sky. He couldn’t help but ask himself the same question he often found himself ask all the time as of later:

Who was it that wore the mask of, Superwoman?

~~~

: Hey, Jaune!

Jaune’s musing from grading more spelling mistakes, and poor grammar was broken when a warm voice freed him from his stupor. He looked up to see violet eyes hidden behind thick black rimmed glasses with a warm welcoming smile he knew all too well.

Jaune: Oh, hello, Yang. Where have you been?

Yang Xiao Long had been working at the, Daily Planet for a few years now, she was a highly skilled reporter with an uncanny ability to always snag the hottest scoop from under your very nose. She also had this odd habit of suddenly disappearing, and reappearing at will. She could have been fired for this if she didn’t keep on bringing such fantastic news stories though.

But, as he looked upon her, her dorky little smile, and her hair tied in its usual ponytail. He could help but wonder how she would look like if she removed those ugly frames of hers, and wore contacts, it was such a shame to hide such a beautiful dace after all.

Yang: Oh catching this juicy story by the docks!

Jaune: The docks? What were you doing around there?

Yang: Oh… I was… I was just out for a jog. That’s all~!

He could help, but quirk an eyebrow at her rather odd remark. They lived in the same building, the docks were on the other side of town from where they lived. And, she found this supposed juicy story on a jog? That didn’t add up.

Jaune: And, the story?

Yang: How, Lex Corp recently bought it, and how a lot of strange items have been coming through. And, an odd amount of stuff like fruit, and vegetables.

Jaune accepted the paper containing, Yang’s story, and put if with pile of stories he need to review. Her brief synopsis sounded ridiculous, but, Lex Corp was a shady place. He was once been given a bag of peanuts by them, and he would swear on his life that whatever he ate that day wasn’t a real peanut.

Jaune: Okay, I’ll give it a look see when I come to it. Need anything else?

Yang: Nope, that’s all.

Jaune: Okay, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to pondering how our education system if failing to teach proper english to people.

Yang: Okay! I’ll be here if you need me.

Jaune watched her, the country girl in the big city seemingly skip her way to her desk to work on what ever new story she had concocted.

She was a nice girl, but she was a little odd. Everyone was a little odd so that wasn’t a huge problem, but their was something especially odd about, Yang. He had several feelings about the girl, he understood, and rationalized them as best he could.

And, yet there was just something he couldn’t pin down about the girl.

~~~

Jaune looked to the clock on the corner of his computer screen, and saw that it had ticked past six o’clock. He looked around the office, and saw that it was only him, and one person left in the office.

He rubbed his eyes as he stood up. He grabbed some paper, and walked over to the last person in the office.

Jaune: Congratulations. You the only person who didn’t piss me off today.

Yang: What?

Yang looked at him confused as he handed her back her news story. She looked at the paper, and the only mark she saw was the stamp that read: ‘Print it.’

Yang: I’m confused.

Jaune: I’ve been reviewing, and fixing everyone’s stories all day, and yours is the only one I didn’t have to fix. To which I thank you.

Yang: Oh, no problem, Jaune! Were there any bad spelling errors you need to fix?

Jaune: Lets see, first off there was, Ruby’s mistake of writing, ‘Ass leak,’ instead of, ‘gas leak.’ Nora got lost on a tangent of talking about pancakes in her story, again. Neptune’s story was supposed to be about the new swimming pool that was built, but he spent most of his time failing to flirt with girls according to, Sun. And, the cherry on top was, Blake’s report on the faunas rights rally. Instead of writing, ‘feline’ she for some reason wrote the worss, ‘peal lime.’

Yang: Pfft-hahahaha!

Yang’s warm laughter was infectious, and brought a smile to his face as he watched her happy smile play across her face.

Jaune: Considering the fact she is a cat faunas she should know what the hell she’s talking about, but nope. Apparently she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

Yang: ‘Peal lime.’ Ha! That’s a good one.

Jaune: Yeah. So thanks for not giving me more work to do for a change.

Yang: Just doing my job, Jaune. Think nothing of it.

Jaune: It’s always nice to have something to relax to. So let me have this one. Okaaaaaaay…?

Jaune’s words began to slur as his head tipped inquisitively to the side as he looked at, Yang’s face. The action made, Yang nervously fidget as he appeared to be looking for something.

Yang: I-Is there something wrong, Jaune?

Jaune: There’s something on your face. Hold still, I’ll get it.

Yang’s face started to become flushed red as, Jaune leaned down, and moved closer to her face. She started stuttering as his hands came closer to closer, and then the unthinkable happened.

Jaune had pulled off her glasses.

Jaune: Ah ha! I got it, there was a disguise on your face, Yang. Or perhaps I should say… Superwoman~!

And, had swiftly, and effortless unmasked her super hero persona.

Yang: H-How… How did you find out…?

Jaune smiled softly at her as he took a seat in the chair across from her. He handed back her glasses to which she rapidly put back on to hide herself so to speak.

Jaune: I thought you’d put up more of a fight, and deny you were, Superwoman. But, to answer your question, I’ve had several reasons to suspect it was you. The fact that when one of you is present, the other has seemingly disappeared. That you seeming always have the scoop, then Superwoman deals with it before the authorities could possibly deal with it. Before we even have the oppression to publish the story. You seemingly have insane reflexes that no normal human with years of experience could develop. And, i know you have super hearing; how else could you have heard where, Mrs. Schnee’s wedding ring fell. You had her back to her, and it fell upon a carpet, I couldn’t hear that, and yet you did. These are all speculative reasonings though, easily can be construed as drawing conclusions. But, do you really want to know how I knew you were, Superwoman?

Yang: H-How…?

Yang was sacred, for the first time since she had dawned on the cape, she was genuinely scared. She knew, Jaune could be highly analytically minded when he wanted to, and that he had this terrifying habit on picking up on the smallest of details. And, if he seduced her secretly identity just by noticing the small details others would pass over, what else had he discovered about her?

Jaune: Your eyes.

Yang: What…?!

Jaune: Your eyes… People may share the same shade of blue, brown, yellow, what ever colour there is. But, they don’t look that same. I remember staring into those violet eyes for the first time, and being mesmerized by how soft of a warm violet they were. Then, I remember when, Superwoman saved me from that weird, Toy Master fellow, I couldn’t help, but notice how beautiful her eyes were. But, I knew this was the first time I saw them, I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that I’ve seen them before. And, I finally answered that lingering question that plagued the back of my mind. So, does that answer your question, Superwoman?

Yang: …

Yang: I-I’m not in my costume… Y-Yang’s just fine… And, yeah… that answers my question… Well at least some of them, but yeah…

Yang looked away nervously before starting, Jaune down with a worried expression etched across her face.

Yang: So you know my secret identity… N-Now what…? Are you going to tell the world that, Yang Xiao Long is, Superwoman?

Jaune: No, no I won’t tell anyone.

Yang breathed a sigh of relief that washed away all the fear she had been building up.

Jaune: However, you have to do one thing for me.

And, suddenly all that fear, and dread came rushing back like a tidal wave.

Yang: A-Are you blackmailing me?!

Jaune: Mmm… Kinda, yeah.

Yang was shocked, she saw, Jaune as such a sweet, and caring person, was he really going to blackmail her?!

And, what would he make her do? Steal a vault, break a bridge, kill someone?! What could he possibly…

Jaune: Perchino’s, tomorrow, say five o’clock?

Yang: Eh…?

Yang looked towards this goofballs smiling face as she was utter lost in thought at what he just said. So lost that she honestly took a minute to go from her fear to being blackmailed to realizing what he had just said.

Yang: P-Perchino’s… a-at five…?

Jaune: Does six work better?

Yang: Waitwaitwait! Are you asking me out on a date?!

Jaune: Surprised?

Yang: Honestly, yes. Yes I am… I thought you would tell me to rob a bank for you, or something like that. Not ask me out… o-on a date…

Jaune: Well, if it makes you feel better I’m asking you because I’ve been meaning to for a while now.

Yang: Y-You have?

Jaune: Yeah, it’s just every time I try you’re suddenly gone. But, now I know why. So, since I have you here; Does five, or six o’clock work for you?

Yang: …

Yang: F-Five o’clock…

Jaune: Awesome! Well, it’s late, and I need to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yang. Don’t stay up too late saving the city! Bye.

And, with that, Jaune was gone, leaving a bewildered, Yang behind.

In the space of five minutes, Jaune Arc had turned her world upside down. He unmasked her effortlessly, twice. He had her quaking her her boots when he said he was going to blackmail her into committing a crime. And, he had asked her out on a date instead.

He had asked her out on a date.

Yang was asked out on a date.

Yang: I have a date tomorrow…

Yang: …

Yang: I have a date tomorrow…?

Yang: …

Yang: I have a date tomorrow!~!

Yang squealed in glee as she realized that her crush had asked her out on a date. This was unbelievable, unforgettable, highly unpredictable, highly…

(Shatter!)

Yang’s exuberance was cut short as she saw that several of the offices windows had been shattered from the high pitch her joyous squeal had made. She looked about the office, before looking back at the window in shock.

Yang: …

Yang: Oh shit…

///

I had a thought the other day: It’s called the Kryptonian AU, who says, Jaune has to be the Kryptonian.

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #ruby rose #willow schnee #jaune x yang #yang x jaune #rwby dragonslayer #neptune vasilias #sun wukong

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watarfallar · 2 months ago

Text

Does anyone here like this weird thing called "Desert Duo Incorrect Quotes?" No? Oh well. I'm running out so I'm giving as many as I can to you all. Enjoy it!

Scar: My hands are cold. Grian: Here, let me hold them. Scar: My lips are cold too. Grian: *covers Scar's mouth with their hand*

Grian: I want to kiss you. Scar, not paying attention: What? Grian: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Grian: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us. Scar: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.

Scar, to Grian: We had a date! Scar: *aggressively points to Hello Kitty Coloring Book*

Scar: I warned you. Scar: I'm perfect.

Grian: Please, Scar, after everything we’ve been through together. You can’t do this. Grian: I’m sorry Scar. Grian: I’m begging you. Don’t do it. Scar: It has to be done. Grian: Scar: Grian: Scar: *Places +4* Uno.

Scar: Are you packed for the trip? Grian: Yup. Scar: Then where are your bags? Grian: All I’m bringing is a good attitude and a sense of adventure. Scar: A change of underwear might be nice.

Grian: Just be careful, Scar! Scar: *heading out the door* I'm always careful, Grian! Scar: It's everything around me that's careless.

Grian: *Gives a bouquet to Scar* Scar: You know I'm allergic. Grian: That's the point.

Scar: Your future self is talking shit about you right now. Grian: Jokes on them. I'll ruin their fucking life.

Scar: Who the fuck- Grian: Language! Scar: Whom the fuck- Grian: No.

Scar: Ha! What are you gonna do? Stab me? *Five minutes later* Scar, calling 911: HELP, IVE BEEN STABBED.

Grian, looking at the squad: Okay, so I need to become a therapist faster.

Scar, handing a balloon to Grian: I have no soul. Have a good day! Grian, walking off: I don't have one either.

Scar: I’ve only ever said ‘I love you’ to two people in my entire life: Grian and a guy in a dark club who I mistook for Grian.

Grian: I found a note in one of my old word .docs that said Note to self: Get revenge on Scar. Grian: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Grian: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Scar: Hmm... I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Grian: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Scar: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Grian: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

Grian: Oh, fiddlesticks. Scar: Look, I understand this is a tense situation, but let's watch the fucking language.

Grian: Heh, Scar sneezes like a girl. Scar: How about I pound you like boy? Scar: That didn’t come out right.

Grian: Consider the fundraising over! Your hero has arrived! Scar: Uhh… where did you get so much money from, Grian? Grian: Well, you know, I’m pretty good at numbers. I just crunched them, I stretched them, I analyzed my accounts, I timed the market- *police sirens start to wail in the background* Scar: DID YOU ROB A BANK?! Grian: Oh, come on, Scar, do you really think so little of me? *opens the bag as purple dye explodes on their face* Scar: Grian: …it was a credit union.

Scar, turning to Grian: Stop calling yourself hot, the only thing you can turn on is the microwave.

Grian: *trying to get five seconds of sleep* Scar, poking Grian’s arm: Grian Grian. Grian. Grian. Grian: WHAT? Scar: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Grian: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird? Scar: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

Scar: And have you learnt anything this Christmas, Grian? Grian: …Not really. Scar: Nothing? Grian: Tell you one thing I have learnt—Christmas; ultimately, commercial holiday. Who's the real winner at Christmas? Amazon. they have drones now! Tiny little dystopian slaves delivering iPads and headphones. I ordered a toaster; It was on the doorstep five hours later! Do we need that? It was 4.99! For a toaster! I mean, someone's being exploited there.

Scar: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it. Grian: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out. Scar: Th-that's not how that works-

Scar: Priest kink is definitely a thing and I am afflicted by it. Grian: Go to church. Grian: WAIT—

Scar: Is it just me or is instant ramen even better uncooked? Grian: It’s just you.

#grian #gtws #incorrect quotes #desert duo #scarian #I love watching them just tossing half a braincell to each other and seeing if they're going to drop it or catch it 😊#seriously it's adorable #enjoy💜💜💜

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imaginethezeldaverse · 1 year ago

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Hi! Could I request a Ganondorf x fairy reader? Reader has always followed Ganondorf throughout time, and they are able to shift from a small fairy form to a human size fairy form!

Hope you having a wonderful day!

-the fairy anon 🧚‍♀️

Well hello, fairy anon! Please allow this fairy of fiction to fulfill your request! ✨ (I'm gonna make you a Great Fairy, but not exactly like the ones from BotW/TotK - you'll see what I mean)

To the naked eye, the small, zipping ball of light could easily be mistaken for a sunset firefly. Skittering around the desert may have been a little strange, but not wholly uncommon. For these facts, you were very grateful. On your tiny wings you flitted through the very open windows of top floor Gerudo bedchamber. You half expected it to be empty, a plan in mind to simply wait and surprise the person you'd planned on visiting - but fate would have other plans in store for you.

"To what do I owe the honor of a Great Fairy at my humble abode?" His tone was a mix of curious and cocky, with just a touch of threatening. With a quick spin, sparkles surrounded your body - and suddenly were a normal, human size. Rattling your wings gently to relieve them of any excess sand that clung to you, you simply made a sound akin to an interested huff. Your long lashes lifted to allow your sweetheart eyes to connect with fiery amber ones,

"Just stopped by to visit an old friend is all..." painted lips turned up in a minxish smile, "But then again...we weren't always only 'just friends' were we...Ganondorf?"

The Gerudo chief eyes you with suspicion, his originally smug expression faltering to something untrusting. You have information he clearly doesn't - a weakness that he doesn't like having exploited. Still, he approaches you, standing tall and wide to loom over your smaller frame. A full head taller than you are is he, yet that does not move you from where you stand. Peering down at you his voice evens out to a tone you can't read, "You speak as though you know me, sprite - but I don't recall ever knowing you."

There's a bitter chuckle in your throat, though you swallow it down. This is always the part you hated the most. You bit back a few oncoming tears, trying desperately to shrug away the hurt that hits you every time you hear an iteration of those same words. Ganondorf watches your eyes grow a tad misty, his brows furrowing at your sudden shift from your initially playful demeanor. "Not yet you don't," your wavering voice whispers up to him. You don't give him time to react, kissing the tips of your fingers and pressing them lightly to his forehead. Immediately Ganondorf jumps back from you, his head beginning to pound as visions bombarded him at full velocity.

"YOU!" he barks, pain swimming in his head. His vision flashes, your faye visage totally different now - soft green vines envelope the length of your body. He remembers vividly the fountain he'd always frequent to find you. Remembers the way your long nails felt against his scalp when his hair was much, much shorter than it is. He recalls sealing you away in a rage, the evil inside of him unable to fathom why you'd help the very person meant to be his downfall.

His skull throbs again, and suddenly he feels a salty breeze upon his face. He sees your iridescent skin, revels in the memory of how smooth you were against his ruggedness. He remembers telling you how much he'd missed you, and how the sea was lonely, but punishment in the sacred realm just without your reach was far lonelier. It comes back to him the nights spent watching the waves with you, your long illustrious locks floating about against the backdrop of the setting sun.

Once more the rush of pain stabs at his head, his visions swiftly reconnecting to a darker world. One surrounded in a shroud of twilight and deep hues of the chaos he had caused. He has your soft face in the palm of his hand - you look so scared - and yet you clung to him. He remembers promising you a new world at his side, you choose not to hear it. You've done this before - though he does not know this. Your big eyes brim with tears, but he brushes them away before they can fall. His memory jogs as he hears you tell him you love him, your luminous, opalescent wings flittering as your heart does. Ganondorf remembers sealing his lips over your own, pinning you to the nearest wall and etching a love on your skin that has transcended the many lifetimes he's lived already with you.

Suddenly the pain stops.

Ganondorf heaves, realizing he's been brought to his knees from this ordeal. His large hand clutches his head, thick fingers weaving through his long scarlet locks. There's a struggle to catch his breath, but he ultimately does as he blinks the scattered memories back into the confines of his mind. Lifting his head, he sees your tearful expression with all the recognition in the world. His steadying hand drops to his knee - he picks himself up. Heavy, thudding footsteps make their way toward you slowly, and judging by his hardened, blank expression, you're a bit fearful for what the sudden onset of several lifetimes' worth of memories could have done to him so you brace yourself - ready to transform and leave at a moment's notice.

You shut your eyes as he's suddenly in front of you, only for them to open once more. His hand caresses your cheek with complete tenderness, "You..." comes his strained voice. When your eyes meet, you see it: him. The Ganondorf who has loved you through every version of him that's existed. You lean into his hand, crystalline tears rolling down the gentle curves of your face, "Me..." Ganondorf wastes no time claiming your lips. A kiss that you very enthusiastically meet him halfway with. Before you know it, your legs are scooped up and wrapped around his waist, all while his lips are still connected to yours.

At your brief parting, Ganondorf lends you a genuine smile. He rests his forehead against your collarbone.

"You always know how to find me, my love. Faye of my heart, you've come back to me."

Arms coming around his head, you embrace him tight to your chest, "No length of time, nor change of your looks would ever keep me from finding you."

And you always would. You had found love once...with him. It made you thankful that you were blessed with eternal life; because although Hylia would strike him down at all costs; though you knew of the evil he truly was deep down; though you were sure the goddess would curse you for the atrocity of laying with her enemy - you would love him every time.

#God...I'm gonna hold this one close to my heart #A love story for the ages #legend of zelda #ocarina of time #wind waker #twilight princess #tears of the kingdom #ganondorf #ganondorf x reader #x reader #great fairy!reader #fairy!reader #love transcending time #fluff #hurt/comfort #tears of the kingdom fanfiction #totk fanfic #ganondorf imagines #totk ganondorf

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chargeeboltz · 2 years ago

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thinning smokes - bakugo x reader

cw: 18+ nsfw, do not read if under 18 !! bakugo makes u cum on his fingers, gendered terms used (atta girl), mild praise kink if you absolutely squint

it doesn’t take long for you to realise your unforgiving crush on your classmate, given how his proximity makes your breathing stutter and your chest do somersaults. the day you come to the unfortunate conclusion that you’re very much into him, it’s possibly the worst conclusion you’ve come to in the entire time you’ve been in UA.

your eyes find him no matter the crowd, and honestly it’s not like you’re looking for him. he’s just hard to miss, with his abrasive personality and his loud voice. he’s with kirishima, the redhead shouting almost as loud as his blonde counterpart as they attempt to solve a dispute. the argument in question? kirishima bets bakugo can’t speak to anyone politely for more than one interaction.

“I absolutely could, shitface.” he scoffs, fixing kirishima with an unhappy look. it’s not quite angry, but god it’s enough to make you shiver from a distance. “for a day, even.”

kirishimas laugh reaches your ears, he’s grinning. “a week.” he challenges, and bakugo scoffs.

“easy.” he retorts, crossing his arms across his chest, and you feel your cheeks heat up as you watch the muscle ripple beneath his compression shirt. “it can be different people.”

“nope!” kirishima says, popping the p. he knows that he’s gotten under bakugo’s skin and he’s going to exploit this. “pick someone and stick to it.”

bakugo scoffs as he turns away, and your breath catches in your throat as he makes eye contact with you. you look away, your lunch suddenly the most interesting thing in the room despite the crimson eyes burning a hole in your head. you won’t look up, heart fluttering against your chest. the days of being able to hold a conversation with him were over, they ended the day he propped himself up against the doorframe in front of you and questioned you on your training regime with an expression so cocky you were half tempted to drop to your knees there and then.

denki grins, looking up at you. “oh you are so done, so fucking done for,” he taunts, fully aware of your little conundrum. “if he’s nice to anyone around you, you’re gonna be on your knees within-“ you cut him off with a cry, turning to glare at him.

“denki!” you snap, elbowing him with a little more force than may be necessary, but you figure he deserves at least that one. it’s lucky you did, because bakugo slams his tray down on the table, gritting his teeth as he does so.

“hello.” he mutters, casting his gaze down to the table as he sits down, looking around at his classmates. you respond after denki does, not wanting to be the first person to greet him. conversation flows easily between the group, casual insults thrown back and forth regarding recent test scores. you had done exceptionally, but you weren't going to bring it up for fear of 'bragging'. that plan, however, went out of the window when bakugo fixes you with a stare.

"what'd ya get?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. unbeknownst to you, he's actually nervous about your response. he's been determined to score higher than you, and he studied harder than previous for this test in particular, even abandoning his strict bedtime in favour of studying harder.

"92," you mumble, catching his eyes and fighting the urge to shy away. his face twists, and he slumps slightly.

"how'd ya do it?" he starts, forcing himself to be nice. "let me study with ya, ya always get too good results." he mutters, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth at the end.

your cheeks burn, a burn so intense you can feel it in your ears. with a nod, you go back to your food, taking a thoughtful bite and chewing it before opening your mouth. "when do you wanna study?"

bakugo looks down at his plate, then yours, then you. "now." he mutters, finishing his last mouthful and standing up. "we can go back to my dorm, yeh?" you nod, finishing your plate and reaching for it. before you can, bakugo has a grip on it and he's walking away.

you pause, looking at your friends for an idea of what to do, but they just shrug - equally clueless. before you get a chance to vocalise your confusion, bakugo is back and hes nodding for you to follow him, so you do. "this is - you don't normally do this," you manage, choosing your words carefully to avoid upsetting the blonde time-bomb of a person. he just chuckles lightly, an exhale of air that could be perceived as annoyance if he wasn't displaying the tiniest of smiles.

"i know. kirishima told me he bets i can't be nice to someone for a week. i figured you'd be the easiest bet. ya don't piss me off like the rest of those fuckin idiots." he scoffs, walking to his dorm with you in tow. "plus, yer smart as shit and i wanna learn from ya," he admits, pushing his door open with his shoulder and letting you in first, his eyes burning into the back of your head.

you smile lightly, looking up at him to thank him, before studying his room. it's typical of bakugo - black sheets and pillows, clothes hung neatly and desk perfectly empty other than the tiniest little cactus, and a photo of him with kirishima framed. you let out a chuckle, walking over to look at the photo, when bakugo gently pushes you.

"oi, come on. i wanna study," he grunts, pushing you to the bed where you sit with a little laugh, looking up at the blonde just in time to catch sight of him as he reaches over to tug a hoodie on. you inhale sharply, the thin sliver of skin showing as he reaches up, and your mouth goes dry. being in this close proximity to a bakugo who is this comfortable with you is going to ruin you, you're sure of it. before you can do or say anything, his eyes are back on you, and they're amused. "stop ogling me, ya ain't subtle,"

you just tut, rolling your eyes and looking away. "wasn't even looking at you, what is it you want to study?" you ask, reaching for your bag to pull out your books. your mind is preoccupied on both bakugo himself, and the idea of having to tutor him, so you don't realise when bakugo shifts himself closer to you and gently pushes his knee against your thigh.

"wanna see what i did wrong compared to yours," he mumbles, holding out a hand for your paper. his cologne tickles your nose, and you go lightheaded for a moment, passing him the paper wordlessly and looking back up at him. he takes it, his hand brushing yours and sending shivers down your spine, before he just chuckles. "you're real good at those 'fuck me' eyes," he teases, watching you closely.

your cheeks heat, yet again, he’s very good at doing that to you, you think. “fuck me eyes?” you counter, taking a step that’s a little more bold than you’re used to and leaning closer to him.

“are you projecting, bakugo?”

he laughs, eyes flitting down to your lips for a split second, a gesture you can't possibly miss when he's looking at you like that.

“maybe I am,” he hums, placing your paper down beside your thigh and resting his hand there instead, calloused fingers heavy through your pants. his eyes pierce, eye contact so intense that your breath runs lighter for a second.

"wanna fuck ya stupid, pretty," he murmurs, gently ghosting his lips across yours. "but i need ya to teach me first, you'd be too fuckin' dumb to teach me once i've had my fill of ya,"

you whine lightly, leaning forward to close the inch of distance between you, kissing him with a little more desperation than you'd like. katsuki bakugo moans against your lips, the noise sending a spike of heat between your legs, as he kisses you with equal desperation.

by the time you both pull away, panting and wide eyed, bakugo has your thigh firmly gripped in his hand, and he's trailing his other hand up your spine to grab the back of your neck.

"yer fuckin' lucky shitty hair told me to be nice," he hisses, tugging you in for another fervor kiss, tasting you with an intensity that has you squeezing your thighs together. your head swims, your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt and tugging him in closer, closer still. bakugo abandons all restraint, the hand on your thigh moving between them and gently running up your clothed core.

"off, now," he demands, voice gravelly, lips still only an inch from yours. "wanna see how wet ya are from me just kissing ya," he smirks, sliding his other hand to gently grip your hair in a ponytail.

you try to nod, whining at the sharp tug of your hair in return, hands fumbling to get your pants off for him. tossing them aside, you gently tug at his shirt, eyes wide and desperate. "please," you whisper, and bakugo just chuckles as he tugs his shirt off for you, lying you back against his pillows, surprisingly soft.

"ya okay?" he asks, looking at you with an expression that suggests nothing other than sincerity. "'m not gonna fuck ya, not yet anyway," he hums, waiting for your consent to move forward. you nod, but clearly it's not enough for him.

"yes, fuck- yes, please," you gasp, and he just chuckles, pushing your underwear aside and rubbing your clit lightly with his thumb. the noise you make goes straight to his dick, and it's all his self-restraint to not flip you over and make you scream his name there and then. his hands are rough, warm, and when he buries his fingers in you, you see stars, arching off the bed and crying out his name.

"mm, this what ya wanted?" he teases, curling his fingers to brush against the spongey spot that draws another moan from you. you nod, eyes squeezed shut as he breaks you with only two fingers. you're begging, breathless and desperate, and he increases the pace to bring you hurtling towards the edge.

"oh-! kats- fuck, i'm gonna-" he cuts you off, leaning down to kiss you with such desperation you're honestly surprised you don't clash teeth. teeth nip at your lip, and fingers brush against your spot, and that's all it takes for you to finish, vision whiting out and legs shaking.

he talks you through it, kissing at your neck and gently rubbing circles into your thigh. "atta girl," he purrs, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, smirking at the way you squirm in embarrassment. "c'mon, i've got some shorts you can wear," he hums, standing up to grab you them.

"and you have some teaching to do," he teases, but there's nothing but warmth in his voice

(me when this sucks)

#chargeeboltz #mha #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut #bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki mha #bakugo katsuki bnha #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki imagine #bakugo katsuki headcanons #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo smut #katsuki smut

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theresattrpgforthat · 11 months ago

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Are there any TTRPGs with a focus on weapons and weapon customization. I've been poking around and haven't found anything that was quite what I was looking for. There are a few about making weapons but those usually don't involve using them outside of recording their history.

Theme: Weapons / Weapon Customization

Hello there friend, I had a bit of a hard time trying to nail down what you were looking for, but I figured I could give you a few different approaches and hopefully something here works for you.

RIG, by NotWriting.

"You’re alive. Good."

"What do you remember? Do you know your Mars songs? Were you born on real ground? Do you remember Earth's hand reaching out to steal from the stars? Hmm. Endocortex must have some rot. Don’t bother with the local infonet, your soft is too old. I’ll find something. I’ll be your Local Admin. You have a rig, a mech. It’s a good one, a Dead Core. Good way to hop the gaps of the firmament, deal with threats."

"And we have problems aplenty right now."

RIG is based on the Rune RPG system designed by Spencer Campbell, perfectly tuned for capturing the difficult and disciplined design decisions of video games inspired by Dark Souls. Instead of quick reactions, each round of combat builds tension and rewards creativity and patience by giving you windows of opportunity and weaknesses to exploit. High risk maneuvers give high rewards but can build up dangerous amounts of heat that can damage your rig. Active your core, unsheathe your core blade, and sink that heat into your enemies, or risk death. Experiment with different builds as you refit your rig between encounters, or push your luck to delve deeper and deeper into the dying heart of Recombinant Earth.

The first thing I thought of when I saw your ask was mech games, and RIG is a solo game all about piloting a mech. Your rig is highly customizable, and the designer described it as rogue-like, allowing your character to try out new configurations using different pieces. Much of the building is a balancing act: you’ll be assigning dice to various modules and some modules take up more dice than others. Your mech also comes with a resource called Heat, which can be marked to give you short-term effects, but must be strategically dumped before it fills to the point of causing you problems. If you want a solo experience that allows you to progress cyclically, I recommend RIG.

Reclaim the Wild, by Elemental Knight.

The Legend of Zelda: Reclaim the Wild is a freely-distributed tabletop roleplaying system made by fans, for fans, of both tabletop games and of The Legend of Zelda. It was designed from the ground up to enable players to create all new adventures in the world of Zelda, and specifically the hit game Breath of the Wild.

Because of this game’s inspiration, there is a lot of detail put into the different kinds of weapons your characters can wield, and more importantly, make. Weapons break all the time in this game, and if you want something a bit more sturdy, you’ll either need to trade with a merchant, or build something yourself. Characters that specialize in weapons crafting have to pick what kind of weapons they can craft, and the party will want to keep whatever bits and pieces they can salvage from fights in the wild, because those pieces will become essential in creating more durable weapons, more magical weapons, and more effective weapons. If you like inventory and record-keeping, then this game is for you.

Numenera - Destiny and Building Tomorrow by Monte Cook Games.

Terrible beasts. Abhumans. The iron wind. Ancient machines that lurch to life unexpectedly—or leave communities desperate when they catastrophically fail. The Ninth World is awash in dangers left by the prior worlds. But these ancient remnants also hold the keys to the future. Those brave enough to discover and study the amazing structures, weird devices, inscrutable automatons, and extradimensional gateways can unearth the knowledge and materials to build the future.

Discover new kinds of numenera items, along with the plans and materials to construct them yourself. Explore the ruins of the prior worlds, uncover their mysteries, and from their secrets begin to build a new tomorrow for the beleaguered people of the Ninth World.

Out of all of the recommendations in this list, Numenera is probably the biggest investment if you’re looking at complex weapon design. First of all, Numenera has some really unique, one-time use items called Cyphers, which (in this setting), are objects that your characters don’t really know the original purpose of, but which can be insanely useful in fortifying settlements, finding information, and doing a lot of damage in a battle. Not all cyphers are weapons, and not all weapons get the same attention that cyphers do.

However, if you really want to explore what these items can do, you’ll want to take a peek at both the Destiny and Building Tomorrow books for this game. Destiny is the first book after the corebook that I recommend getting, because it provides character options that focus on salvage and building, and because it hosts the bulk of the creation plans for Cyphers and more permanent objects such as Artifacts and Installations. Building Tomorrow expands on this crafting system, by introducing new crafting materials, salvage locations, and weird side effects that might come about when your crafting roll is less than ideal.

LUMEN, by GilaRPGs.

This is a link not to a game, but rather a System Reference Document for a family of games. LUMEN is an RPG system for high-action, high-speed, high-power games.

The character classes in many big LUMEN games are often differentiated by fighting style or weapon type. You can see this in Monster Guts, a LUMEN game inspired by Monster Hunter, and NOVA, a game about piloting exo-suits after the world has gone dark. There are also plenty of customizable options within those classes, allowing you to try out different combinations to find something that works really well for you.

This game can really sing in a small group, as each player can build their character to do some outstanding combinations, and then synchronize those combinations with things that the other players at the table do really well. There’s a lot of interesting things being done with this rules system, and if you don’t find exactly what you’re looking for in this collection compiled by Gila RPGs, then perhaps you still have the tools you need to make what you want for yourself!

Heartbearers, by Whimsy Machine.

It's a dangerous world of heroes and monsters. You play in pairs: a sentient weapon and their bearer. You go on thrilling adventures with other pairs. Be the greatest fighter pair through the ultimate feat of strength: making friends!

Long ago weapons realized that their bearers can get really hurt in battle, so culture shifted: the goal of combat changed to skillfully clash weapons, not harm bearers. Two weapons going head to head can show off their magic, abilities, and legends. Colors burst, sparks fly—it's intense!

In this game, players pair up and choose whether they will play a hero or a sentient weapon. Bearers and Weapons will have very different responsibilities in game; while Weapons focus on shifting their forms or concentrating their attacks, the Bearers will determine why they are fighting in the first place, ruminating on desires, emotions, and goals. Duels use d12s as counters to track actions, with a rest for all of the characters once their counters reach 0. Weapons can also aid their Bearers during non-combat parts of the quest, while Bearers will determine what alliances they will make (and possibly whether they will lay down their Weapon for good). If you want a game that gives personality and sentience to a weapon, or if you want to play a weapon yourself, this might be a game for you.

Lancer, by Massif Press.

In Lancer, players adopt the roles of mechanized chassis pilots - mech pilots - comrades together in a galaxy of danger and hope. Some groups will fight to rectify the crimes of previous administrations; others will fight for their nation, pieces in a greater game of hegemony. Others will carry the banner of a corpro-state or mercenary company, working to advance private interests while lining their pockets. Others still will fight for groups acting in opposition to those in power - for the underground, for the forgotten, agents of entropy and agents of yet more radical revolutions.

If we’re going to talk about mech games and weapons, I’d be remiss not to talk about Lancer. This is a highly tactical game with most of its rules focusing on mech combat, and a very exciting wealth of mech options that you’ll be toying around with after almost every section. Your mech will have distinct weapons, such as the Blackbeard’s Chain Axe or Omni-Harpoon, but there’s also systems that you can add for specific strategies on the battlefield, such as the Swallowtail’s cloaking field, which helps you hide both you and your allies, or the Goblin’s metahook, which allows teammates to share their systems and sensors, for improved e-defense and a broader range for electronic warfare.

Other Thoughts

If you like the high tactics and strategy of Lancer, but you want a fantasy setting, then I'd recommend Gubat Banwa instead.

If you want to focus on inventory and less on character class, you might want to check out the OSR side of things, including games such as Knave or Into the Odd.

If you like inventory but want to keep your character class, then Troika! might be for you.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #weapons

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waltwhitmansbeard · 3 months ago

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"You're shaking." Vax and Scanlan, CR or TLOVM (or any AU you can think of)?

21. "You're shaking." this one is set during s1 of tlovm!

It's a record for Vax, how fast things have gone to shit. He's used to fucking up his own life, and his sister's too, but to fuck up the lives of seven people in the course of just one dinner party—well. He's really outdone himself this time.

He paces the kitchen of the keep—their keep, if they can even call it that anymore—twisting this dull steak knife round and round and round between his fingers. Captain Jarrett took all their weapons, and now his hands feel itchy. Whatever. Not like he could do much with his dagger in here anyway.

Vex is lounging in a window, gazing down at the moonlit lawn, and Scanlan is on his second sandwich. Neither one of them is paying Vax much attention, so he just keeps pacing. Does he take his sister and run? He's done it before. It's not like Scanlan could stop them, even if he had his annoying lute, which he doesn't. He'd feel bad, of course, leaving the rest of Vox Machina to their house arrest, but they'll be better off. The last thing they need is some idiot rogue who can't even scope out a room, for heaven's sake—

"What're you thinking about?"

Vax stops pacing, finding a gnome suddenly in his way. It takes him a second to actually decipher what Scanlan said, the words garbled by the last bite of sandwich in his mouth. "Nothing."

"Mmm, I don't know." He nods to the knife. "You're shaking."

Vax looks down at the steak knife, and sure enough, it's trembling between his fingers. He tosses is quickly onto the dining table. "It's nothing. Low blood sugar or whatever. I skipped dinner, remember?"

"Right. You know, that was pretty cool, the way you just...did that for Percy, no questions asked."

Vax scoffs. "Yeah, some help I was."

"Uh, hello?" Scanlan waggles the stolen book he's been studying, which has some goopy white substance on the cover that Vax prays is mayonnaise. "You got this, didn't you?"

"Oh sure, and all it took was a vampire bite, a thirty-foot dive through a window, a massive fight in the sovereign's courtyard, the Briarwoods' escape, some teenager's fingers, and all of us on house arrest!"

Scanlan quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, so we're taking responsibility for each other's actions now, are we? Because if so, I have some questionable sexual exploits I'd like to pin on Grog."

Vax sighs. "Scanlan..."

"So the plan went to shit. When has one of our plans not gone to shit? You saw Percy in distress and you did something to try and help. You didn't make him explode at the dinner table, and you definitely didn't shoot half of a kid's hand off." Scanlan reaches up to gently punch Vax's hip. "Don't take credit for Percy's idiocy. Something tells me that before this is all over, you'll have enough of your own to worry about."

Vax blinks. "Was that supposed to be inspiring, or...?"

Scanlan's eyes narrow. "It was supposed to get you out of your own damn head." He spins around and tosses his hands up. "Whatever! Be miserable! I've got an evil book to read."

He starts to walk off, but Vax stops him by rubbing his head. "You're not half bad, you know that?"

Scanlan shoots a playful look over his shoulder. "Wait 'til you hear what my sexual exploits have to say."

Vax rolls his eyes and walks away. "Not enough therapy in the world, Scanman."

#ask #Anonymous #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #my fic #tlovm #tlovm fic #vax #scanlan shorthalt #vax'ildan #vox machina #vox machina fic

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jinxekkotimebomb · 18 days ago

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hello!!

what do you think about the recent tbhk arc (the whole new timeline arc)? I like it a lot but I do feel kinda frustrated from the storytelling perspective.

Like there are a lot of stuff AidaIro could've exploited in this arc that didn't get used : for exemple, this "perfect new timeline" concept could've led to such cool conflit for the characters, but we barely saw it, for Teru and Akane (like some scene but really show and tell-like) but even for Nene (hers was a bit more shown but again not given a lot of exposure). And there was a bit too much comic bits that kinda interfered with the mood they were going for in this arc. Also, lots of potential for Aoi's characterization in the red house, letting her making a meaningful sacrifice, engaging in a fight she knew she would loose but still letting her handle it to huh not fail Teru (would've also liked it so much if they explored her bond with the him of this timeline a bit more too) and buy time for Akane and Nene would've been so good. But even if Akane didn't let her alone there, it would've been good to see a bit more, again, of his conflict between him wanting to stay and to go, like huuh idk like the way his decision to stay was portrayed was kinda made as if he just ignored Aoi's declaration of her having things in control and her resolved"Now get out of here! Go!" and threw them out the window. And like, the following scene of Akane taking the lead of the situation (handling the sword) as soon as Nene got out took so much impact out of Aoi's determination. Like the second he got involved again she, yknow just became the obedient assistant following his orders and her assurance and courage to...sacrifice herself earlier kinda lost their meaning.

Idk if I made the point I'm trying to describe here clear but...what do you think of it? Overall pacing of this arc, characterization ect... I would love to know your (and others) opinion on this!

I honestly agree, I do love the arc on an overall standpoint of what it means for the characters and their future development. However, I do wish they spent more time in the new world to develop the bonds between Aoi and the others, as well as Teru's problems with connecting to others. I do with they'd explore Nene's issues more than just repeating the joke of her being weak in regards to men's desires, given it clearly comes from a sense of isolation and a desire to feel normal after growing up isolated and treated weirdly. For reasons I feel the manga might not state, but I do feel her issues mirror transfem experiences, especially with the mentions she was raised masculine. I'd like for them to go into that more in a later arc than brush over the idea. I also wish they'd give Aoi more agency as a protagonist generally. Anytime we have an arc where I feel she has a chance to play a leading role alongside Nene, she always ends up being support to the others around her. Despite that, I do love the concepts and ideas the arc is setting up and It'll be really interesting to explore that latter.

#tbhk #tbhk spoilers #tbhk manga #jibaku shounen hanako kun #tbhk hanako #nene #trans nene #trans nene yashiro #trans yashiro nene #yashiro nene #nene yashiro #toilet bound hanako kun #hanako #hanako kun #aoi akane #akane aoi #teru #teru minamoto #minamoto teru

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tarot-by-tabitha · 3 months ago

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Hello ! Hope you are doing well . I saw the slots were open so i got intrested in requesting a reading!

My initial - B

Gemini sun taurus moon and scorpio rising

memoriable childhood memory - when i was a kid my family and me moved into a new place when i was around 9 - 11 years old i think. The place was so calming especially at night and whenever came we used to switch off the lights and lay on the bed at night ( there was my parents bed near the window ) there was a sense of calmness it was so extraordinary feeling that till now it lingers and smtimes i want to go back . Another thing is that i got sexually exploited before moving into that place by few men ( when i was a kid ). One was a bizzare experience but it happened only once and another one wasn’t that much bizzare but it happened more often .

Hello 🍂 thanks for sharing your childhood memories and I’m sorry that happened to you 🙇‍♀️ I hope you are fine now

Sooo I’m connected to one of your past lives around 1920 and 1945.

Your Past Live in a Lost Civilization

In one of your past lives, you were born into lost civilization. a place that no longer exists or has been forgotten by history. This civilization was thriving once, with strong beliefs and systems but it faced many natural disasters and conflicts that led to its downfall. You were the grandchild of someone important in your community, and your family carried certain expectations for you to follow in their footsteps.

Fanatical Faith and Deception

You grew up in a community with a fanatical faith. This wasn’t a calm or gentle belief system, it was one that demanded complete loyalty and obedience. You believed deeply in the religion and followed its strict rules without question. At the time, you were convinced that your faith gave your life purpose, and you dedicated yourself fully to it.

But this faith also made you vulnerable. Someone within your inner circle, possibly a religious leader or a family member betrayed you. The Labyrinth card shows how you became lost in the of lies and manipulation. You were tricked into thinking that following this path would lead to salvation, but it ultimately led to betrayal. The love and trust you placed in others were turned against you.

Guilt and a Life Altering Choice

As you grew older, the guilt from your earlier actions started to burden you. You began to realize that your blind faith had caused harm not only to yourself but to others around you. The guilty conscience you carried was a result of choices made under the influence of this deceptive faith. You regretted the decisions you had made, feeling like you had let down those who depended on you.

At a crucial point in your life, you were faced with a choice. This wasn’t just an ordinary decision it was a life altering one. Your civilization was struck by a massive earth disaster likely an earthquake and the society around you began to crumble. During this time, many were captured and enslaved including you. You were forced to choose between your freedom and the survival of your loved ones. This was not an easy choice and whatever decision you made, it left you feeling responsible for the consequences.

Imprisonment and a Slow Decline

After the disaster you were taken as a prisoner of war or enslaved for labor. The Birds card reflects the chaos that surrounded you in these dark times. You were far from home, trapped in harsh conditions and the constant noise of fear and uncertainty filled your mind. In this captivity, you faced many hardships including starvation and dehydration which ultimately led to your death. It was a slow, painful decline, where you struggled for survival but couldn’t escape the fate of your captors.

A Gifted Grandchild with Prophecy

Although your life was filled with hardship you were not without gifts. As a grandchild of someone important in your civilization, you inherited certain prophetic gifts. You had a natural intuition and an ability to sense things before they happened. These gifts were not fully developed in that life, as your faith and external circumstances often overshadowed your abilities. You were meant to be a guide for your people but the chaos and betrayal you experienced made it difficult to embrace your gifts fully.

The Lesson of Self Trust

The lesson from your life that time was to learn how to trust yourself. This life taught you that true wisdom comes from within. You had the gift of prophecy but you couldn’t use it to its full potential because you didn’t trust your inner voice. Instead you allowed external forces to dictate your actions which led to betrayal and regret.

How This Past Life Affects You Now

In this life, the lesson from that past is still present, you are meant to trust your inner voice and fully develop your gifts. You may find yourself drawn to situations where you have to make tough choices and these moments are opportunities for you to listen to your instincts. The Labyrinth shows that life may feel confusing at times with many paths and voices pulling you in different directions, but you have the wisdom within to find your way out.

Your prophetic gifts are still part of who you are today. You have a natural intuition and an ability to sense things before they happen. The challenge is to trust this gift and not let external pressures or influences cloud your judgment. The Birds remind you that there will always be noise and distractions in life, but your true path lies in quieting that chaos and listening to your own intuition.

I hope you like your reading and please leave a feedback 💓 thanks

#past life readings #free readings

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taesmassiveass · 8 months ago

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Sirens in my head || tk

(this is just a drabble)

the heavily pouring rain left little hope for the young man to leave for his humble abode on foot. and of course, he wouldn't, couldn't and shouldn't ever have thoughts of staying any longer at his office cabin.

a thin film of gently running water covered the streets as the rain continued to fall. the man watched the scene before him, with despair clearly showing in his eyes. he sighed, and stepped back, shielding himself from the water droplets with the shop's protruding roof above his head.

the phone kept in the breast pocket of his crisp white button down vibrated, followed by a loud ringtone of a trendy kpop beat. typical. he pulled it out and swiped his thumb across the call icon, face set to display the slight annoyance he felt.

"hello?"

"Jeon Jungkook, where are you right now?"

the man holding the phone stood still, regretting not having checked the contact name.

"Evening boss-nim, I'm a few strides away from the office-"

"where exactly?"

oh how Jungkook hated his demanding attitude.

"The dairy shop right beside-"

"have you booked a ride back home yet?"

Jungkook was very much tempted to hang up, but he withheld his intrusive self. Of course his boss is mocking his not-so-rich financial status again.

"not yet, but I am planning to."

"no need for it, stay where you are. I'll be there in a few."

"but boss?? that's not-"

beep beep. the call was hung up before he could complete what he had to say.

Jungkook was perplexed. weren't his working hours over? was there something else the boss needed him for? if that might be the case, he was going to hate his boss evenmore.

workforce exploitation. that's what it was.

Jungkook sighed again, abandoning his train of thoughts and vacantly staring at the wet streets. the lilac evening sky and the streetlights reflected prettily on it's surface.

the ten minutes of silence after the call was interrupted by the whirring tyres of a black SUV, as it rounded around the shop and stood in the space infront of it.

infront of a passively standing Jungkook, who did not even register it's arrival.

one of the doors slided open, and out stepped a tall, lean man, slightly broad shoulders set in an authoritative stance, dressed in a formal but fashionable sense. definitely very rich.

he stepped onto the gravel, his heeled boots from Celine creating small splashes as he strode towards the man standing underneath the shade of the dairy shop, carrying an umbrella with a purple floral print above his head.

it was then that the young man, too, looked up at him.

into the eyes of his boss.

"Jungkook, let's get you home. it's raining pretty heavily."

Jungkook cleared his throat and stood straighter, politely bowing to his boss. his skin tingled when a hand gently grabbed his shoulders.

"I appreciate the thought a lot, boss-nim, but I really was just about to leave on my own. I can-"

"I know you can." the deep voice spoke, his tone soft but firm. "but I insist. I have a visit to make to a person living nearby too, so I can drop you and drive ahead."

if jungkook felt skeptical, he decided to keep it to himself for the sake of saving both their precious time.

and who was he to deny a free ride home in an expensive car?

the boss smiled as he received a nod of agreement, gesturing with his hand for them to proceed towards the car.

as they walked under the same umbrella, Jungkook may have felt the slight bump of a shoulder and some side glances thrown his way. he kept his head down, even as he mounted the vehicle and sat on the opposite row of seats.

he wondered how much more pity his boss had left in him.

__________________________________________

Droplets of rain settled over the glass windows as the car drove against the wind and rain. Jungkook stared at the blurred city lights as they passed by, his mind hazy with thoughts and the proximity which he shared with his boss. He sighed softly, feeling awkward more than ever.

Should he make conversation?

He cleared his throat. "H-have you had lunch, Boss-"

"Taehyung."

"Huh?"

Jungkook turned his head slightly at the unexpected answer and it's slightly annoyed tone.

"We're off working hours, I would appreciate it if you could just call me by my name."

call me by my name.

Jungkook swore he could bleakly hear the sirens going off in his head.

"Oh, well, please excuse me Sir as I understand it we aren't very close-"

"Then let's make this a start! Let's get to know each other well!" His boss- Taehyung- smiled at him. So soft, so polite.

Polite? Jungkook liked, no, appreciated politeness. He was aware he himself didn't possess a lot of that attribute, but he didn't have the heart to refuse a kind request.

The sirens in his head continued to buzz, but he sat upright and turned a little more to face Taehyung.

He was indeed one gorgeous man, almost too much. It bothered Jungkook for no legal reason.

"A-alright, umm, Taehyung. Have you had lunch? If you would like to stop by at mine-"

"Thank you for asking Jungkook, you are so kind. Yes I would love to stop by. I did miss lunch so it's a pleasant surprise to me that you asked." His smile widened in a manner that was...adorable? And his eyes turned into crescents.

Why did Jungkook not like him? As it was, he was very gentlemanly indeed.

Oh and did he say yes to stopping by his place?

The alarms in the back of Jungkook's mind, and perhaps his heart too, got louder by a pitch.

"Yeah. Sure."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Right here, that's the gate to my apartment."

Jungkook pointed ahead, his doe eyes slightly wide. He turned to look at his boss, who noded.

The driver swerved the car around an alley with enough space to park. As the ignition was turned off, Jungkook gulped.

Was he stupid to ask his boss to visit his place? He was pretty sure the hygiene and food and space at his apartment would not be problem, Jungkook himself was very particular about those stuff.

Although, he wasn't sure why his boss so readily agreed either.

"Shall we get out now, Jungkook-ssi? I will hold the umbrella for you."

Saying that, Taehyung pulled the door handle and pushed it open. It was still pouring outside and the damp, petrichor laden air rushed into the car.

Jungkook took a small breath in an attempt to relax his anxious heart.

While Taehyung got out of the car and was setting the umbrella up, he shifted over to the doorway and peeped out.

A hand immediately came up to him, palm open.

Without much thought, he grabbed it and step down from the car, not very gracefully as he splashed some water over his own feet. He heard Taehyung let out a breathy giggle, so he looked up.

"I'm sorry, it was just...cute."

Jungkook could feel his face warming up.

"Shall we go now, Jungkook?"

He nodded, starting to walk a step ahead of his boss.

Embarrassing, how embarrassing...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doors of the elevator opened on the third floor. Jungkook stepped out first, Taehyung followed him closely.

The corridors were spacious and clean, there were artificial potted plots here and there along the corners. It looked like an upper class apartment, although not exactly luxurious.

Jungkook walked up to the fourth door.

"Here. This is my flat" he declared, without turning to look at his boss. His hands shook a little as he struggled to punch in the code.

"It looks nice and decent. I'm curious about your interior design though, seeing as you work in the architecture sect."

Of course. Of course he is mocking his 'lesser rich' economic status again.

Jungkook bit his tongue and nodded a curt nod in response. Why did he think his boss would like being anywhere that's not chandelier ceilings and shining smooth glassy tiles and-

"Is something wrong? With the door?"

A hand came to rest over his shoulders, a hot gush of breath fanning over the back of his neck that effectively shut the voices in his mind up.

"No it's, sorry, I was just, umm, thinking." He mumbled to himself more, finally entering the code right and inserting the key after an affirmative beep from his door lock.

As the key turned in the notch, his heart skipped a beat.

Okay....here he is, inviting the boss he doesn't like all too much over at his place.

He strode in at a slow pace, much to cover up for his stuttering confidence. Taehyung stepped in behind him, Jungkook watched him elegantly untie his shoes and set them over the shoe rack. He then stood up to reach for the door knob and pushed it shut.

When he turned around, his eyes met Jungkook's. Taehyung smiled.

Jungkook could sense he was nervous too. He would dare say it was adorable again if he himself wasn't slightly shaking.

"Um, don't bother for too much, I will happily have whatever is available."

"It's no bother, please take a seat."

Jungkook gestured towards his sofa, Taehyung followed gratefuly and sat himself down.

If he was less nervous, he would appreciate the way his boss's legs beautifully folded on over the other. How perfectly business class mannered.

"Would you like some water?" He asked, eyes still outlining the presence on the couch.

If Taehyung noticed, he only raised a subtle smirk. "Yeah sure, thank you!"

"And that's how Seungmin found himself behind the bars. Honestly, the day his wife divorced him I was entirely convinced he was a troublesome man."

Taehyung nodded his head agreeing.

"I didn't think the architecture department would have so much tea to give."

Jungkook giggled. "We just happen to look nerdy, wait till you hear from the other employees. They are even more invested in what goes around than me."

The boss let out a soft laugh. It reminded Jungkook of church bells.

How did they get here again?

Well, long story short, Taehyung was indeed a charming conversationalist. As Jungkook started to get busy in the kitchen, his humble self scurried over to help with whatever he could.

"How's work though? Is everything alright in the sect?" Taehyung asked him.

More like opened the dam to an endless ranting from an employee that had a tons of complaints and gossips bottled up inside.

Taehyung listened to him attentively, nodding here and there and adding some of his own remarks, which much to Jungkook's pleasure, were an ally to his own thoughts.

As the ramen simmered in the soup with the vegetables, Jungkook basked in the silent joy of having someone to talk to and laugh with after a long, long time.

"I have a confession to make." feeling a little confident for some reason, Jungkook blurted out.

What he didn't see coming was his boss freezing up in his seat, eyes widening like a deer in headlight.

"W-what is it about? Should I be worried?"

Even so, his hands moved meticulously as he wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. Jungkook caught himself tracing the outline of his lips for no reason.

The hell is wrong with him? He shook his head, as a response to the question and to come to senses.

"No no! It's just me I promise! I-well" he gulped.

Taehyung gulped too. A soft sigh escaped his lips. "Is this what I'm thinking it is about?"

"No- Wait! What do you mean?"

Jungkook wasn't sure where this conversation was leading to. To be honest, he was a bit scared.

"Taehyung-"

"Please, let me address it first? I have waited for this opportunity for...quite sometime now. I had never thought that I would have a chance but, if this is what I'm thinking it is, please allow me to say it first."

Gone was all composure and elegance that his boss always had. His hands shook as he reached for the glass of water. After taking a sip, and setting the glass down, he looked up.

Jungkook could swear his breathing had halted. Why did he have no clue of what was going on? Had he pulled some trigger that was best left be? Oh he was about to lose his shit.

"S-sure? Go on as you please."

He then did something he definitely didn't think through enough. His boss's hand felt colder under his as he covered it with his own.

Taehyung's face kept getting redder by the second, the embarrassment was beginning to transmit to Jungkook too. He was not sure why.

"Okay, um, Jungkook-ssi, sorry, Jungkook. I-" He lowered his head. "I was hoping you would, I know this is super absurd, but I was hoping you would-" his hand under Jungkook's emerged to instead gently hold it by the fingers "like to go on a d-date with me? I AM AWARE this is so strange coming from your work colleague, a boss at that, but, if that's what you were thinking about too...I'm sorry I couldn't stop myself..."

His eyes locked with Jungkook's wide wide open ones.

"I never ever imagined that you would have something to c-confess too? This gives me so much joy, good lord! I have adored you since the moment you first stepped into my office, I can't explain I just...that's-that's partly why I wanted to drop you off today, I was hoping we could get to talk? I used to believe you found me annoying for some reason..."

His eyelashes cast shadows over his cheeks as he looked down, his lips quivering slightly. The gentle hold he had on Jungkook's hand turned firmer.

"But now that I think about it, maybe I was wrong, maybe I do have a chance? I would be so honoured if-"

The boss pushed his chair back suddenly, standing up and walking around to reach Jungkook's side. His knees struck the floor, making the dumb founded man gasp for a change.

"if you, perfect and gorgeous, Jeon Jungkook, would go out on a date with me."

As the silence settled after the question, all Jungkook could hear were the sirens in his head, loud and clear.

It had to be the craziest twist to an evening Jungkook had ever lived.

Kim Taehyung, the boss he seemingly despised, not only grew on him but, but ended up asking him out? If you would tell intern Jungkook of three years ago that he would be the crush of this insanely beautiful man, he would smack you on the head and tell you to mind your business.

Right, because, because maybe Jungkook had taken a liking to his boss, when he first stepped into his office too. The pretty, long fingers that reached out to hand him his employee ID, the warmth in the smile offered. But it annoyed Jungkook because Taehyung, his boss came from a world of luxuries and classic beauties. What would he ever see in him, a middle class young adult struggling to avail a livelihood.

Maybe Jungkook despised his boss because he forced himself to find faults in everything he did. That would keep him anchored to the shore.

Had it, though?

Jungkook wasn't clueless, but he would gladly delude himself into believing just that if it meant for him to not desire something and someone he had no chance at having.

Now, those walls came crashing down. Maybe the fissures in them had always existed, even though Jungkook desperately tried to cover up with whatever dirt he could find.

His head was spinning, his jaw aching from his mouth being hung open for so long.

Should he...should he let himself be honest for once? There was no harm in trying, was there?

It was Taehyung, the man in question. Beautiful Taehyung that had a kind heart, a charming but genuine smile that had Jungkook's heart skipping a beat everytime.

The sirens in his head continued to blare, louder and louder, and louder....until they started to sound melodic.

Until his heart began to sway to that melody.

While the confession Jungkook was going to make would have been about anything but this, maybe this twist to his story was an intervention of fate, instead of being just silly misunderstanding.

He licked his lips, grounding himself. Taehyung's grip on his hands had gotten tighter but not by any means, hurtful.

Jungkook's free hand moved on it's own accord, his fingers curling under Taehyung's chin and lifting his face up gently.

He looked into his hopeful eyes, and saw nothing but genuineness. Just as he had expected. Just as he had hoped.

"Kim Taehyung," his thumb gently caressed the soft skin of his cheek, the warmth in the touch reminding him that all of it was indeed, very much real. "I would love to go out on a date with you. Thank you for asking me out first, I wouldn't ever have been brave enough."

And the blinding smile that spread over his boss's face was so worth the honesty. So so worth it.

__________________________________________

The End.

#taekook #taehyung #jungkook #drabble #taekook fic #what even

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