#for some teammate vs teammate fights

[strqyr]

if i did my math right, any winner of the vytal tournament would have to win more matches solo than they did with their team / partner. which is kinda funny. like at what point do you just drop the team / duo rounds of it and make it all about solo fights, or make all three into different categories?

[albonium]

f1 drivers tennis players and other athletes around the world. do they realise that if their governing bodies are not working properly, if they think that their treatment is unfair or that they aren't being treated equally, they can actually get together protest and demand change? it's like they all think things are stuck so they're gonna complain and sit on their ass giving quotes to the media hoping something will happen. for fuck's sake organise speak up do something otherwise stop complaining ?

[eightyonefour]

*asked about the russell vs verstappen fight*

oscar: *gestures for lando to go ahead*

lando: oscar told me he had some interesting opinions on it so i'm gonna pass straight over to him

oscar: ugh being teammates with you is so fun 😂 *proceeds to give his answer*

lando: that's not what he said earlier

[sexy-monster-fucker]

No One Has to Know What We Do

Jealous!John Walker x Thunderbolts*!Reader

Summary: Valentina forces the Team to attend a Charity Gala. Tensions are high, especially when you sharing a dance with Congressman Barnes is the talk of the gala. And John has to pretend he is unbothered.

CW: Thunderbolts* spoilers, hidden feelings, mutual pining, reader was involved in the End Game battle/is a former Avenger, Reader is a bit of a tech geek, typical Bucky vs John dynamic, Valentina being a shit (I hate and love her), media coverage, paparazzi being creeps, typical MCU violence, kinda love triangle I guess(?), mild degradation, makeout, fluff, spanking, oral f!receiving, p in v, creampie

a/n: okay I got mouthy with this, but I don't know the last time I dedicated this much time to a single fanfic. I really enjoyed laying out such a detailed story so I hope you enjoy!!! <3

word count: 14.8 k

title track 🎶🥂

~~~

“I have to wear… this?”

Your hands hovered around your torso. Low-cut dress hugging every curve of your body. Flattering. This just was not something you were used to. Tactical gear was usually all you wore. Unable to remember the last time you were this dressed up. Probably Tony’s funeral.

“Don’t be picky. It’s custom tailored for you,” Valentina shrugged with a smile.

No doubting that. The way it perfectly cupped your breasts and ass told you that. Never would some random dress off a rack fit you so well. Unsure how to feel. It was stunning, far more expensive than anything you had ever owned. But you could not help but think of the practicality of it. Skin tight dresses did not give you optimal movement. Especially with the heels Valentina just insisted you wear.

“What if something happens?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Valentina sighed, turning to look at you. Head falling softly to the side, snickering, “Other than you having to fight off some bachelors tonight.”

You rolled your eyes hard. Hating Valentina’s obsession with your personal life and relationships. She knew that any press was good press, so of course it excited her to think of the possible headlines that would be plastered everywhere by tomorrow morning. ‘New Avenger spotted leaving party with Congressman!’ It made her heart beat faster. Thinking of all the coverage it would bring for the Team.

“Val,” you chastised. Arms folding over your chest as your brows furrowed. You were no stranger to her games. Setting you all up to have to swat away paparazzi for the next month over this Gala. A charity event for people who lost everything during the blip. A fundraiser that had started off small by a lady in Queens. Blossoming into something bigger with the sponsorship of Happy Hogan. All in honor of the late woman.

“Come on. You’re young. Hot. And single. You really think the boys won’t be dripping off you tonight,” Valentina shimmied her shoulders with her words.

You sighed loudly. Staring yourself down in the mirror. Shifting side to side to get a better look at the fabric of your dress. Valentina really thought she knew it all. While she was mostly correct, you made sure to keep certain personal aspects of your life hidden. Especially from her.

Like your harboring crush on one of your teammates. Super soldier. Gruff. Recently divorced. Cocksure attitude a turn off to most, but not you.

John Walker. Former Captain America. Even if it was only for a few weeks. And he made sure none of you forgot that he was Captain America. Chosen to be. Government’s number one pick. High school football champion. War veteran.

All the things he considered achievements.

Smug attitude was pretty on him. The way his eyes would light up when he made a smart comeback. The soft tug of a smirk on his lips whenever he would watch whoever he taunted get angry.

You liked him this way.

As much as you hated being this dressed up, the idea of the look on John’s face when he saw you made your stomach flutter. His eyebrows would bounce and his lips would softly part, displaying his bottom teeth. Eyes raking down your body, definitely lingering on your chest. And it would make you blush. Probably would not even be able to make complete sentences.

“Hurry up and get your shoes on. Limou will be here in ten,” Valentina stared down at her phone as she snapped her fingers. Exiting your room. Airlocks of your door shutting back. A soft hiss the only sound in the room. You sat on the edge of your bed and closed the straps of your heels. Not accustomed to wearing shoes such as these. Wobbling on your legs like a newborn deer. Strutting across your room until you got the hang of it. Large hooped earrings jingling in your ears. Necklace laying across your collar. Stopping in front of your vanity, leaning over it to look closely at your makeup. A full face. Grand departure compared to the usual mascara and lip balm you wore. False lashes and thick eyeshadow. A matte lipstick accented with a matching gloss. Highlight and contour accented your face. You bared your teeth, seeing the splotch of lipstick on them. Rubbing your finger across your teeth with a little squeak trying to get it off.

Firm knocking on your door made you jump. Thinking maybe time had slipped away from you. “Coming,” you called out to whoever it could be. Flattening your hands on your dress and walking over to the door. Ghosting your hand in front of the reader so that it would open. Expecting Yelena or the return of Valentina. Coming to tell you to hurry along. But instead you were greeted by a taller figure.

Broad chest. Navy blue suit adorning his body. Perfectly accenting his piercing blue eyes. Solid black undershirt, unbuttoned at the top. No tie, only his dirty blonde chest hair peaking out. His dog tags tucked, but the chain was shining. Hugging against his large shoulders. Metals he had been presented from his time in the military pinned to his jacket. Hair slicked back, looking tamer than it ever had in his time on the team. Beard brushed down.

Your chest tightened. Stunned with how handsome he looked. Fluttering long lashes up at him. Holding your arms firm at your sides. Wanting to rub your hands across the expansion of his chest.

John was taken aback by you. Swearing a dress had never fit someone so perfectly. Cleavage reveal just enough for him to take a peak, reverting to his gentlemanly nature and looking past them. His cheeks grew pink for a moment.

Neither of you had outright said how you felt. That made this exchange a little more awkward. Yes, you spent time together. Having movie marathons and cooking for each other. Swearing you had never had a more delectable Chicken Parmesan than John’s. And he was kind to you. Holding doors and offering you his arm as an escort. Glances in crowded rooms lasting longer than they normally would. Neither of you wanting to seem desperate.

But it just made things… difficult.

A game of cat and mouse to see who would crack first. Finding yourselves doing things to make the other mildly jealous. Wearing far too short shorts when walking around the tower, even into the crowded screening room with the other three males of your team. And John would always make sure you saw after a particularly sweaty workout. Muscles toned and throbbing, glistening with perspiration. Towel absentmindedly tossed around his neck.

“You’re kinda a slut,” John would say with his arms bulging across his chest. Joking, of course. This was how you joked back and forth. Watching you bend over to pick something up. Making sure to arch your back and stand even slower so that he could get his fill.

“Yeah? You’re kinda standing there watching like a whore,” you shrugged. Throwing the towel that you had picked up straight at him. Catching it in his large palm like it was nothing. Hooded eyes watching you walk over to him. Head tilted ever slightly.

“I’m not the one letting my ass hang out of my shorts,” John cocked a brow.

“Hmmm,” you tapped your chin, “You should though. Get you some tight, slutty camp counselor shorts. Have it say ‘U.S.A.’ across the ass cheeks. It would be a good show.”

Not letting him win. Only playing further into his game. Causing his face to flush and brows to contort when he could not come up with a clever come back.

“Shut up,” John would roll his eyes.

You would blow him a kiss as you kept walking. Unable to see his eyes lasering into you from behind. Making sure to sway your hips because you knew he was watching. Tongue wetting his bottom lip, trying not to let the way his cock throbbed be too obvious.

“Wow,” John said.

You gave him a closed mouth smile. Folding your hands over in front of yourself. Pushing up on your tiptoes and widening your eyes, “Hi, Walker.”

“You look beautiful,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” you tugged at the sides of the dress, “That suit really makes your eyes pop.”

“O-Oh, yeah? Val sent me to come get you,” he deviated, putting a fake laugh over his words.

“Limou already here?”

John nodded. Still taking in every detail of you. Wanting to make sure he kept the memory forever. You looked so good. So stunning.

You walked to the elevator together. Meeting the rest of the Team along the way. Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei. Valentina could not even begin to force Ava to attend. Not good with crowds, plus it was difficult to get an outfit that would hide her suit. And, well, Bob. Not exactly liked by the public. And she did not want to leave him alone, just in case he began spiraling. It was better to have someone stay behind just in case he needed anything.

Alexei wore a crimson red suit. Freshly shaved head glistening in the lights and jewelry decorating every finger. Sunglasses adorning the New Avengers logo on the side resting on his nose. Yelena wore a white dress. Off shoulder, hair braided along the sides. A stunning full face of makeup, complete with a glittery eye. And Bucky wore a black suit. White undershirt with a black tie. Looking very professional. Classic.

The five of you stepped into the elevator together. John, Alexei, and Yelena ended up against the back side. You and Bucky standing in front of them. Catching his sideways glances at you. Looking over at him with a smile.

Bucky leaned over, lips almost touching your ear, “You look nice.”

Your cheeks heated up at the compliment. Eyes scanning his face, catching his oceanic stare. The corner of his mouth curved upward. Brows sitting heavy on his eyes. One of them barely arching like he was challenging you.

“Thank you. So do you,” you leaned and whispered back to him.

As if everyone else in the elevator could not hear you. Yelena and Alexei exchanged a knowing glance, both of them having to hide their laughter. Yelena peered over to John. His jaw locked. Chest puffed up as his lip twitched. Vein along his temple bulging as his eyes shot through Bucky’s chest.

Yelena pinched at her father’s coat, discreetly pointing to Walker. Alexei’s eyes widened as his jaw hung slacked. Looking back to his daughter with shock. Looking like there was about to be a war tonight.

John tried to steady his breathing. Hating the little giggle that laced your response to Bucky. Becoming enraged by the way Bucky’s eyes ravaged your entire body. Knowing Bucky’s intention, and not liking it. His fists balled at his sides. Curling his fingers in and out as he tried to calm down. It would have been easier if Bucky would stop looking over at you with that shiteating grin of his.

Quickly, Yelena got her phone out to send a text updating Ava on the possible drama of the night. Ava responding almost immediately, ‘KEEP ME UPDATED.’

This was going to be fun.

Ding of the elevator door told you you had reached the ground floor. Bucky’s hand meeting the small of your back as he guided you out. His other hand casually tucked into his pocket. Rest of the team following tightly behind.

John was seeing red.

Watching how nonchalantly you followed his lead. Acting as if you did this often. The words the two of you shared were drowned out by the ringing of John’s ears. Only able to watch how you talked with one of your hands, and how Bucky kept smiling at you. It was so easy for him to hate any man who kept his eyes on you.

The sun had set. Glow of the street lamps the only thing that allowed your eyes to adjust outside. All of you stepping onto the sidewalk, greeted by a limou and Valentina in a sparkling red dress.

“What a good looking bunch!” she clapped her hands and squatted a little in excitement. Showing off her pearly whites with her chuckle. Eyes fixating on how closely you and Bucky stood. Pointing between the two of you with a grin. Widening her gaze with a bounce of her brows.

You rolled your eyes at her. Blowing your breath out hard as you crossed your arms over your chest. An over exaggerated wink was given to you.

“Alright, New Avengers, let’s get to it!” Valentina gestured towards the opened door of the limousine. None of you moved. Awkward silence only broken up by the distant sounds of the streets. Honking and buzzing of lights.

“Okay…” Valentina’s voice trailed off as she put her hands in the prayer position to her lips, “Yelena— in first!”

Yelena shrugged. Encouraging her father to join her. The two of them taking turns getting in, Alexei gave Valentina a dirty look before entering. “I can drive limousine,” Alexei gritted his teeth, words laced with anger.

“I know, big guy,” Valentina patted him on the shoulder. Nodding with her head low in defeat. Eyes widening at the remaining three of you.

“Come on,” Val encouraged.

Bucky stepped forward first, turning to offer you his hand. Accepting it graciously. Giggling softly as he led you forward. Turning to reach your free hand out of John. Grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him behind you. Stumbling at first, quick to correct his mistake. You smiled widely back at him, no longer looking at Bucky. John could not stop the way the corner of his mouth upturned in response.

The three of you taking the seats across from Yelena and Alexei. You sat in the middle of the two super soldiers. Hands folded neatly in your lap.

“Alright, Super Troopers, I’ll see you there,” Valentina waved from outside the door.

“You’re not coming with us?” Yelena questioned.

Valentina laughed, “Showing up with you ragtag bunch? Absolutely not. Keep on your best behavior, remember how many cameras will be there. I’ll find you all later. Don’t say or do anything damning!”

She slammed the door as a punctuation. All of you looking at each other with hints of confusion and bit of aggravation. For someone so invested in this New Avengers thing, Valentina sure did not dedicate herself to the group aspect as she should have. Easier for her to put the blame on all of you when things went wrong this way.

“Of course,” Yelena said unimpressed.

“Devil woman,” Alexei growled.

You chuckled. Pushing your body into John’s, looking up at him with a wide smile. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m surprised,” you admitted looking across to Yelena. Giving her a closed mouth smile and a shrug.

All of you shared in your soft laughter. Allowing yourself to be as calm as possible before the storm that awaited you. Your hand mindlessly rested on John’s thigh for a moment. It consumed his mind. Just how easy it was for you to touch him. The way your body instinctively leaned into his. Almost like a couple. Deciding to relax his own arm across the back of the shared seat. Like it was around your shoulders, just without the blatant physical touch. Fingertips nearly touching Bucky’s metal shoulder. Reminding him of what had him angry to begin with.

Bucky peered over at John. Blue eyes telling him he was aware of the game the two of them were playing. Confirming the suspicions he had been festering on. The two boys had never gotten along. From the moment they met, there was an animosity between them. Steve Rogers’, our original Captain America’s, best friend versus the man the U.S. Government had decided to give the mantel to. There was no world in which they saw eye-to-eye. Especially after John had so distastefully disgraced Steve’s legacy. A legacy that Bucky was all too intertwined in.

You were unaware of the war waging over you. Discussing all the possible public figures you would be seeing tonight with Yelena and Alexei. Recalling some of the events of the battle against Thanos, explaining how severe everything had been leading up to the Blip. Able to vividly see all your old teammates dissipating on the battle field in Wakanda. All their dust simply floating away like they had never existed. The sound of the purple alien’s gauntlet snapping haunted your memory. Distant. Yet still the most powerful noise you had ever heard.

“You can ask Bucky. He got blipped on the battlefield,” you gestured towards him.

Pulling his attention away from his newfound rival. Oceanic eyes looking at you with contorted brows. A little confused. Only having been half listening to your conversation. You widened your eyes at him realizing that he had not been paying attention.

“The Blip..? In Wakanda,” you whispered with a smile that tried to hide your laugh.

“OH! Right, sorry,” Bucky ran his hand over his hair, “It was like one minute you were here then you were gone. Returning five years later was difficult. The world had changed, almost moved on from all of us. Everyone I knew had… changed.”

“That’s why this Gala is so important. Half our population disappeared and reappeared. Coming back to their homes being taken over. All their stuff discarded somewhere that they were forced to find, if it hadn’t been thrown away. We’re raising money so these people can get back to normal,” you said patting your hand on Bucky’s leg. Smiling at him.

John coughed trying to hide his anger. Unknowingly pulling all eight eyes on him. Causing all of you to think he was interjecting in some way. You raised a brow questioning him.

“Got something you wanna add, Walker?” Bucky challenged him.

“Uh— no. Nope. Blip was bad. You guys saved the world from a giant purple alien-guy and his army. We’re all impressed,” jealousy spat from him like venom.

Tension returned between you. The air growing tight in the small back of the limousine. John’s unbothered attitude making your stomach churn a little. Aware there had to be something else going on with him. Normally, he would not act this way when such a serious topic was brought up. You stared at him blankly. Causing the realization of what he said to wash over him. Repositioning himself so that his hands were folded in his lap, leaning himself forward a bit.

“Jesus,” Yelena whispered to Alexei. Looking to you and bouncing her eyes wide for a moment.

It was hard for you to look at John now. Awkwardness building a wall between you. Focusing your attention back to Bucky, voice hardly above a whisper. Quizzing him on statistics about the Blip. He was a Congressman after all, he needed to be able to answer any and all questions they could possibly ask him. Growing a little smug as he continued to remember each number down to the decimal. Smiling as the two of you laughed about an old joke from the days of the Avengers.

Flexing of metal fingers caught your attention.

“Your arm bothering you?” you looked down to his palm.

Fingers expanding and retracting repeatedly. Soft hum of mechanical noises meeting your ears. The black and gold digits ceased their movements at your question.

“Yeah. It’s all good. Just sometimes like to move ‘em,” Bucky’s skin between his eyebrows creased. Offering his hand to you, “Wanna feel?”

Of course you were not going to pass up an opportunity to take a closer look at some foreign tech. Gifted to him from the late Prince of Wakanda. His sister, the new Black Panther, being the tech whizz of the two of them. Shuri was gifted beyond your comprehension, so any chance to check out her work was like a gift to you. Your fingers traced the cool vibranium. Amazed by how similar it was to a real arm.

John swore he could have pulled a gun on the former Winter Soldier. Your words bleeding into a muffled hum. Only able to watch how you leaned over his lap, guiding his arm in each and every direction. Touching him. Over and over again. Each tap of nails or soft rub of fingertips had his teeth grinding.

All of you casually chatted the rest of the ride. John sat with his eyes closed. Eyebrows upturned as he tried to steady his breathing. His leg bouncing up and down as an outlet for everything he was feeling. Replaying the moment prior. Punishing himself for how he acted. It was what he deserved.

The bounce of his leg caught your attention. Eyes quickly looking to his face. The outline of his locked jaw and furrowed brows met you. Deep in thought. He was isolating himself. This was how he dealt with his emotions. Pushing everyone and everything away. Dwelling on all the bad.

You softly flattened your hand on his knee. Your thumb rubbing circles into the expensive fabric. His eyes shot open, looking at your manicured nails splayed across him. Peeking over to see your side profile. Smiling as you talked to Alexei about Steve Rogers. Your other hand wildly gesturing to emphasize your point. Not even giving John a sideways glance.

It annoyed him slightly. The casualty in which you knew how to calm him down. Ground him when he needed it. The way you smiled and it showed off your beautiful teeth. Gracing the others with the pleasure of seeing it in its entirety. Not even letting him get a look. Yet it was him who you rested your hand on. His body you had previously pressed your weight into. It was all a little confusing, which is what got under John’s skin.

The limousine halted to a stop. Caught in a line of traffic, every other vehicle seemingly arrived at the same time. You looked over your shoulder at the paparazzi outside. Clicking and flashing of far too large cameras was drowned out by the talking of everyone. Thankful for the tinted windows that hid you from their view.

Alexei chuckled in anticipation, “The Avengers will be on every cover story tomorrow!”

“That might not be a good thing,” John said as he rested his chin against his knuckles. Peering out the window at everyone dressed in their finest attire. Praying that you all would not stand out like a sore thumb. Each of your public images still on thin ice with the press.

You cringed at the thought, meeting John’s eyes and giving him a closed mouth smile. Both of you turned inward towards one another. His shoulders rose in a soft shrug. Taking a deep breath before looking back out the window.

“Not all of us publicly executed someone, Walker,” Yelena said with a mischievous grin.

John’s head quickly whipped back to look at her. Scrunching his nose up as he faked a laugh. Nodding at her, then rolling his eyes. “Yeah? Well, you have more blood on your hands than I could ever manage. So,” he scoffed, waving at her.

“Don’t start,” Bucky groaned already annoyed with this.

You lovingly rolled your eyes at the bickering. Yelena loved to get under John’s skin. Easily riling him up with a mention of his family or his time as Captain America. It usually ended with him letting all his anger out on a punching bag in the training room. Or coming to your room to vent about it all.

A thick silence filled the space. All of you waiting for the door to open. Your freedom barely a few feet away. Stuck in the tin-can with everyone holding knives at each other’s throats. You continued to watch elegant women and men strut up the stairs of the venue. Posing for pictures with their designer purses and shoes. Almost feeling inferior to the rich upper crusts.

“I’m nervous,” you closed the small gap between you and John so you could whisper into his ear.

“Yeah?” cerulean eyes looked into yours, voice low so the others could not hear.

You sighed as you nodded. Lips piercing together as you tried not to let yourself get overwhelmed. Being thrown into the spotlight was one of the most difficult adjustments of your life. Having to ignore every headline and article.

“You know how they like to talk about me in the news,” you fidgeted with one of the bangles on your wrist.

And he did know. Every chance they got, there was a new article about your personal life. Spotted at a coffee shop, walking in the park, getting lunch with an old friend. It all somehow circled back to you being, what they would call, a ‘temptress.’ You were never allowed to have casual relations with anyone. Platonic luncheons being misconstrued as another blossoming romance for you. Or worse, you sleeping around. That was the stories they liked to run most.

It all overshadowed your abilities as a hero. You could usually ignore it. But when you would walk down the streets and see magazine covers and newspaper headlines all covering where you had went to dinner the night before, it made you sick. Unsure why you had been their target so often. You were a competent fighter. Trained by S.H.I.E.L.D. and having spent some time in Wakanda learning their battle methods. Not including your intellect for building suits and weapons.

Yet somehow it was always about the newest person you were spotted with.

John hated the way your frown would tug your lips down after another story broke. People were not exactly supportive of the New Avengers. Memes and blogs dedicated to how big of a joke you all were. Forcing you all to grow tough skin. It did not change the way John’s heart would break when he saw you teary eyed sitting on one of the couches. Phone held in your hand as you scrolled through another article. Reminding him of how he had been. Falling down the rabbit hole of self hatred. He would do whatever he could to make you feel better. Sitting down beside you to show you some old video that he had found funny in his first years of basic training. Or asking if you had seen some movie or heard a new song. Anything to distract you from wallowing. Loving the way you would try and hide your laugh. Tucking your face into his shoulder as you leaned into him.

John’s hand patted your thigh. Igniting your flesh as your heart skipped a beat. Doeing your eyes up at him inquisitively. A knowing look behind his eyes accompanying the soft curve of his lip, “I also know that they’re a bunch of assholes.”

Your cheeks beamed. Smiling at him widely. This was the John you knew. Kind, knowing exactly how to make you smile. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach.

The door opened with a loud click. The loud sound of the press and attendees met your ears. Shuttering of cameras, loud questions from news reporters, all wrapped in a bow of smooth jazz blaring from some speakers.

Your chest tightened. Caging you in with your anxieties. Watching as your teammates all began out like this was a normal experience. All of them standing from their seats. It was like your feet were glued to the floor. Hands locked together as you watched Alexei and Yelena exit first. The Red Guardian shouting loudly in excitement as he waved to each camera. Yelena keeping a cool head as she always did. Waving nonchalantly to the paparazzi as they called her name.

Your time with the Avengers had not been like this. Flaunting around, feeling like celebrities on a red carpet. You were a behind the scenes type. Able to stay in the shadows unless needed out in the field. Never being the one they sent to talk to news outlets. Only tagging along to big headline events on rare occasion.

Your breath was teetering. Blinking over and over trying to will yourself to get up. The lights shining in through the door blurred. Your ears rang. Able to see the dark outline of someone offering a hand out to you. Taking it before your eyes fully refocused. Dazed as you were led out onto the steps of the venue. Able to switch into a smile as fast as your feet hit the ground. Waving with your free hand to the press as the hand remained in yours. Finally looking to see whose name would be next to yours on the newspaper tomorrow.

Navy blue suit jacket spanning across a wide back. Confidence exuding from the Super Soldier who helped you out. A smile that gleamed in the reflection of spotlights. Strawberry blonde locks and beard adorning his head.

John Walker.

It was like time slowed down when he looked over his shoulder at you. Everything around you disappeared. Cerulean eyes sparkling as they met yours. Pearly whites on display. The softest shade of pink washed over his cheeks. Swearing he had never looked so handsome. For a moment it was like he was your knight in shining armor. Like Cinderella running away from the ball, except in the hands of her suitor.

The feeling of a hand on your other wrist distracted you. Pulling you out of John’s grasp. Contorting your brows as you turned to see who had interrupted you.

Valentina.

Dragging you over to be standing with Bucky. He was already being questioned by several reporters. Microphones shoved in his face. Stern exterior never cracking for a minute. Practically being shoved into his shoulder, deep blue eyes looking over to you with a smile and soft ‘hi.’ Your hand flattened against his bicep trying to not fall in front of so many people. Bucky instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, helping you stand. Metal fingers hugged the curve of your hip. Returning his smile with a giggle to hide how truly embarrassed you were.

Every set of eyes on you widened. For the first time, it was like all the chatter subsided. Looking around you to see all the attention on you. Feeling like you could retreat into a shell and hide forever. Your face heated up as you looked to Bucky for an answer.

“Like I was saying,” Bucky redirected to the previous question he had been asked, “Homelessness in the case of citizens who were blipped is a serious epidemic. We are working on finding solutions to this longstanding issue.”

A spark of pride shot through you. You had quizzed him well, he really did know how to handle himself. Even if he was conventionally not a good public speaker.

“And what about you, Miss Y/N?”

You took a deep breath, “The Blip really left us in a confusing state. Not only socially but economically. We are striving towards solutions that work for all parties involved.”

The reporters thanked you both as Bucky raised a hand to excuse you both. Walking along the roped in section. Posing for a handful of pictures. Waving to some people who were holding New Avengers signs. Surprised to see any kind of positive outlook on your team.

“You didn’t have to throw yourself at me to get my attention,” Bucky smirked keeping his facade steady for the cameras.

You snorted, “I didn’t. Valentina dragged me over to you.”

“That’s what I’d say too,” he leaned to whisper in your ear.

You laughed, swatting at his chest. Unfortunately aware of the photo opportunities you were giving the crowd. Stiffening your posture to try and not seem so comfortable with the Congressman. Knowing that laugh you have would haunt you for the next few weeks. Scanning the area for any sign of John. Unable to find his slicked back hair anywhere in the crowd. Able to see the entrance finally. Relief allowed your shoulders to sag. He had to be inside.

You were flagged down by a young, male reporter. Excusing yourself from Bucky, who was being pulled to a reporter on the opposite side. You smiled and greeted the man. Shocked by the lack of video camera in his partner’s hands. Only a photography camera. Snapping pictures of you as you walked over.

“Miss Y/N,” he began, cockiness dripping from his demeanor, “May I say, you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

You nodded, fisting your dress in your hands, “Thank you.”

“Must be hard to be the most attractive girl on your team.”

Your stomach churned. Brows pushing together for only a second, not allowing his cameraman to capture that expression on you.

“I’m not sure I understand—“

“Well, you get out of the limousine with our former Captain America. Just to be seen in the arms of Congressman Barnes. Do you plan on leaving the event with the Red Guardian?”

What a fucking prick.

Looking down at the pin on his lapel. Dawning on you where you had seen the name before. A podcast. Ran by the two men in front of you. The name being some shitty misogynistic ‘joke’ about female heroes. Exclusively discussing female heroes and their personal lives. Shaming and harassing women for years.

You bit the inside of your cheek, not allowing your expression to change. Realizing he had a microphone next to the pin. Must have been live streaming an episode.

“Thanks for the question,” you waved him off, walking away faster than you had approached.

“Oh, come on! Smile a little, honey!”

You scoffed, not turning to give him a second glance. Holding your dress up as you cascaded up the stairs. Reaching the top and seeing Yelena. She was leaned back against one of the pillars, talking to someone you could not see. You rushed over to her. Your hand resting on her shoulder as you greeted her. Introducing yourself to the woman she was talking to. Young, had to be new to college. She was writing a paper on the struggles of female heroes in todays society.

“Thank God I found you,” you sighed, hands resting on your hips with wide eyes. Cupping your hand around Yelena’s ear so you could whisper, “Podcast bro is here.”

Yelena gagged with a laugh. It made you feel a thousand pounds lighter. Laughing right alongside her. She was someone who understood your struggles the way other’s could not always. A certain level of understanding between girls.

“You should send Alexei down to him,” Yelena grinned.

“Oh my God,” you smirked, covering your mouth with your hand as you leaned to laugh.

“I saw all the boys go inside,” Yelena gestured with her pointer finger, “I’ll be in shortly.”

You nodded, shaking the young girl’s hand before waving goodbye to Yelena. Wishing her good luck with the paper. Heading inside to watch over the crowd below. Shocked by the sheer amount of people inside. Shoulder to shoulder. Glasses of champagne pinched between every set of fingers. Soft ballroom music played, some people danced in the center. A stylized number that had them all moving together perfectly.

A man with a tray passed by you, offering a glass to you. Accepting it with a ‘thank you’. Still feeling so out of place with the suits. An echoing belly laugh caught your attention, able to recognize it anywhere. Walking up to the old porcelain railing. Finding Alexei’s crimson suit standing alongside several other men. Recognizing Bucky’s dark hair from the balcony you stood upon. Smiling when Alexei grabbed one of the men by their shoulder harder than he probably should have.

Bucky stood with his hands in his pockets. Stiff posture and cautious eyes scanning the room. Looking up catching you, doing a double take to make sure he was seeing you correctly. Waving up at you. Catching Alexei’s attention. Pointing at you and shouting your name. It made your face flush, embarrassing you as if he was your own father. You waved with a bright smile down at the group who now all were looking at you.

While it was nice to get your eyes on most of your teammates, there was still one missing. You began to circle the upper floor, no sign of the blonde soldier. Growing a bit flustered. Making sure to hide it behind a smile. Sharing pleasantries with each person you made eye contact with.

Preparing to give up. Assuming he must have snuck off somewhere so that he did not have to be seen. Deciding you would just head down and join Bucky and Alexei.

Until a breathy voice said your name. Turning on your heel to see John, hair a little disheveled and breathing a little heavy. Like he had been running. You immediately smiled widely. Almost giddy to see him. You walked to meet him halfway.

“Hi,” you said unable to wipe the smile off your face.

“Hey,” he tried to catch his breath.

John flexed his fist. Stretching out his fingers. Looking around for your other teammates. Surprised he did not find Bucky riding your coattail. "Where is everybody?"

"Yelena's outside. Alexei and Bucky are making friends on the dance floor," you grinned, motioning behind you with your thumb.

"And you're..?"

"Hiding from paparazzi," you joked.

He nodded, hands resting on his hips, "Guess I'm doing the same."

Truly, John felt relieved that you were alone. Expecting Bucky to be making the moves on you. After the look he gave him when his hand wrapped on your waist, all bets were off. Chivalry being the last thing on his mind from that moment onward. He had to get some air. Storming off to the side of the building. Pushing past each and every reporter that questioned him. Hands tethering through his hair as he squatted against the cold exterior. Needing to calm down before he made a fool of himself and the entire team. Putting himself back to the moment you got out of the limousine together. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him. Like he was the hero in your own personal fairytale. No one had looked at him like that in so long.

Finally able to take a real breath. Standing up and composing himself. Flattening down his coat and pants. Starting to round the corner when he heard your voice. Peeking around the corner to see you being questioned by a young man. Admiring the way you composed yourself, until he heard that stupid fucking question come from the boy. Not fully convinced he had heard him correctly. Watching the way you tensed up and your face flushed. Stammering out a question before he continued. Insinuating things about you that simply were not true. The look in your eyes as you all but ran from the idiots set John off.

Waiting until the two boys stepped away snickering to act. The two of them taking hits of their small vapes before John grabbed them by their collars. Shrieking like their entire lives flashed before their eyes. Confused and scared. John made sure to rip the two small microphones off their lapels and smash them into the concrete. The boys not recognizing the man whose hands were pinning them up against the wall at first. Curses falling from their mouths over and over. John's eyes lasered into them. Ready to strike.

"You guys like picking on pretty girls?"

The two boys choked, hands clawing and prying at John's arms. Holding them firmly up in the air.

"H-Holy shit. Bro, it's John Walker," the camera boy strained and swatted at his partner.

John looked between them, pulling forward to slam them back once more, "Answer the fucking question!"

"Jesus Christ, dude! You're, like, the exact type of guy we do the show for!"

That only enraged him more. His public image really had gone completely down the drain. Losing all credibility he had as the residential good boy on the block. Painted a monster and complete asshole to the public. If they were going to see him that way, he might as well give them a reason to.

"You don't know a thing about me," John all but growled.

"Oh, I get it," the cocky main man started, "Your little girlfriend send you over here? Thought she was plenty capable to fight her own fights. Poor Y/N, needing her junior varsity boy-toy to come save her from the mean men on the internet," he mocked John.

John stared at them. His head falling forward as he released his grip slowly on the two of them. Their feet met the ground, but they were frozen. John's shoulders bounced as he laughed. Confusing them further. Giving them a moment to really think they had won.

"Um, dude—"

John reared back and punched the main boy in the mouth. Knocking him to the ground. Swiftly repeating the action on the camera man. The two boys laid unconscious on the ground. John shook his fist before straightening his coat. Fixing his appearance before returning to the event.

" 'm just happy I finally caught up with you," John smiled.

"Me too. I'm feeling a little out of my element here," you tried to hide your nerves.

"And about earlier—"

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet Congressman Gary," Bucky's voice interrupted.

Quick to plaster on your most convincing smile. Extending your hand out to him, "It's a pleasure, Congressman."

"Please, the pleasure is mine," he smiled.

"John F. Walker," he stepped forward offering his hand to the politician, "Former Captain America."

"Oh, I know who you are, son," his tone reeked of disdain.

It was like a shot directly through John's chest. Overtly aware of the way everyone here perceived him. Not expecting such blatant disrespect, especially from a member of Congress. In the country he gave everything to defend. Just for them to kick him to the curb when he did something they did not approve of. Moreso something that made their public image look bad.

You tapped your fingers discreetly along John's palm to let him know that what the man had said was not okay. At least he would always have you on his side.

"Congressman Gary has invited the two of us down to his table," Bucky explained, "Care to join us?"

"Oh! Uh—" you looked to John whose brows were upturned slightly, "Well, I... What about—"

"She'd love to, Buck," John answered for you, his hand splaying along your lower back. Urging you forward into the arms of his enemy. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you looked up at John. Silently questioning why he would do this.

John knew it was important to you to get your name and reputation cleared. Conversing with a Congressman certainly had to give you some form of credibility that outshined the tabloids. Even if it meant he was practically waving a white flag to Bucky.

"I think she can answer for herself, Walker," Bucky quipped monotonous.

John glared at him. Anger coursing through his veins. Ready to settle things with the older soldier outside.

"John—"

He leaned down so he could whisper in your ear, "It's okay. I know this is important for you. Make the most of it. We can catch up later, sweetheart."

Addition of the pet name caused your face to flush. Reluctantly being pulled away by Bucky. Looking back at John. He resembled an abandoned puppy. Blue eyes wide and pleading with you to come running back into his arms. Tucking his hands into his pockets as the forced smile faded from his face. Walking away from where you were being led. Losing sight of him in the crowds of people.

Refocusing your view forward. Bucky led you through the crowds of people effortlessly. Offering you his hand to assist you down the stairs. Smiling as you mumbled to yourself with each step. Coaching yourself through keeping balance.

The table full of bureaucrats narrowed in your vision. All their eyes looking to you and Bucky. He introduced you, leading to an abundance of handshakes and pleasantries. Pulling the vacant chair out for you, pushing you in. Taking the seat directly beside you.

It felt like a million years. Answering question after question. Discussion after discussion. The Adamantium Conflict. The Housing Crisis. Dimensional Rifts. Reminding yourself that you were representing all your fellow Thunderbolts*. Making sure you answered with dignity and grace. Catching Bucky’s eyes throughout the conversations. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he intently listened to you.

Eventually, the conversation fizzled out. Politicians discussing their vacation homes and house boats. Completely out of touch with the issues at hand. Unsurprising to you.

You scanned the room for your other teammates. Alexei was sharing war stories with a group of elderly veterans. Sharing how different things seemed from his point of view. Idealizing the States in a way. Yelena was off speaking highly of her late sister. Making sure to keep her legacy alive, she saved the world after all. And, of course, Bucky beside you.

John was no where to be found. It crossed your mind that he may have left. Everyone had been rather cruel to him tonight, you could not blame him if he did not want to stay around.

You clicked your nails on the table. Lost completely in thought, finally able to attempt at a clear head. Looking around at all the bright lights and dazzling decor. Bucky’s hand rested on yours, pulling your attention to him.

“I could listen to you talk for hours,” Bucky admitted.

Your face flushed, “Thank you.”

You had known Bucky longer than your other Teammates. Flirtatious nature was nothing new to him; he was a playboy back before he got sent off to war. Causing you to assume it was just how he played with you. Never considering his advances were legitimate. Because who didn’t he flirt with?

Hooded blue eyes stared into yours. Like looking into the ocean during a storm. Dark hair and beard accenting his lighter features perfectly. Years of trauma and experience highlighting his forehead and eyes with their roadmap. He was gorgeous.

But something was not right to you.

Scooting of chairs behind you caught your attention. Turning to see all the congressmen extending hands out to their dates and escorting them to the dance floor. Each of them taking a waltz position and gracefully stepping to the music.

So you watched as elegant attendees danced together. Long dresses cascading atop of the porcelain. Heels clicking on the polished floor. Slow strum of the live band calmed you. One of the blue suits causing you to day dream. Imagining you and John centered on the floor. His hand on your hip as you danced together. Losing yourself in his skyline eyes. Everyone around you fading away. Soft smile painting his face as he held eye contact with you. Dipping you and finally—

“Care to join me?”

Bucky had rose from his chair with a hand extended out to you. You blinked.

Cameras shuttered.

Your public image.

“Of course,” you happily accepted. Walking hand and hand out to the middle of the dance floor. One of your hands on his shoulder and the other held in his. His other hand rested on your waist. All eyes were on the two Avengers. Sharing a formal dance so publicly.

Bucky led you. Stepping perfectly in time with the slow, loving music. You analyzed his face. Soft scars decorating his forehead and cheeks. Clearly from his years as the Winter Soldier. The mix of greying hairs in his beard made you grin. Sometimes you forgot just how old he truly was.

“Lots of people watching us tonight,” Bucky’s voice was low. Speaking through his teeth so no lingering eyes could decipher his words.

“I know,” you looked around to see almost every table staring and whispering. Unable to hear their words due to the speakers next to your ears. Able to read their expressions, knowing these journalists would have a heyday.

“Does it make you nervous?”

You whipped your head back to him. Eyebrows knitting for a moment, “Nothing makes me nervous.”

Your guard was up suddenly. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness to your team leader. Easier to lie than be vulnerable.

Bucky chuckled. Eyes squinting up as he smiled.

You glared at him.

He leaned in so that his lips ghosted against your ear, “Do I make you nervous?”

Your bodies were pressed perfectly together. The hand that had been on his shoulder now splayed along his broad back. Heat radiated off your face. Close proximity and the way his breath fanned along your neck had your head fuzzy. His fingertips dug into your lower back with his question. Awaiting some form of a response. Satisfied when you gasped lowly.

“Of course not,” you whispered back.

Bucky pulled back grinning. Spinning you when the music kicked up. You tried to understand him. His intentions were not clear. Unsure if this was longing or lust. Not liking the conclusion you had jumped to.

“What’s your game here, Congressman Barnes?” your voice was low and sultry. Teasing trying to get his facade to break.

Suddenly, he dipped you backwards. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. Eyes sparkling with the chandelier above.

“Whatever you want it to be,” he barely said.

There was an eruption of clapping when the song ending. Making you abundantly aware of the spectacle you had been giving. Not even noticing that the dance floor was empty other than the two of you. Encased in a circle of Bucky’s fellow politicians.

Your throat tightened. The room closing in around you as you caught the eyes of each individual person. Some confused, some awestruck, some disgusted. It was all so overwhelming.

Bucky pulled your hand up to his mouth. Featherlight lips planted themselves there. Your eyes widened as you stared at him. Ears slowly beginning to ring from embarrassment. Cameras flashes. A pit formed in your stomach.

This was all wrong.

Valentina finally met the two of you on the floor. Applauding and laughing. Smile spanning from ear to ear as she spoke to the press before either of you got the chance. You looked around the room as Val smiled for the camera. Shoulders heaving with each deep breath you took. Sweat beaming along your neck and down your back.

Catching a familiar set of eyes.

Everything around you slowed. All air being punched out of your lungs. His face was scalding red. Standing out harshly against his navy blue suit. Brows laying harshly across his eyes as he stared at you. Cold. Distant. Alarming.

John had witnessed the whole thing. Down to the finer details. The way Bucky’s hands held onto you like you belonged to him. How you followed his every move and your bodies looked so perfect pressed together. A hole forming in his chest. Stomach knotting.

This was wrong.

Your eyes welled up immediately. How could you let this all happen? You started over to him when Valentina grabbed you by the wrist. You shook your head as you watched John disappear out a side door. The slam causing all the sound to return to you. Bombarded with questions and microphones. Bucky’s arm wrapped loosely around you like before. It was all too much for you to fake happiness. Only able to fight back tears and a broken voice.

How did this happen?

John stormed into a far too tall corridor a few halls down from the main floor. Screaming louder than he had in some time. Punching out a piece of a concrete pillar. Every inch of his body was shaking. Veins on his neck bulging as he strained. He was a fool. Practically handing you over to Bucky just for such a grand spectacle to be made.

Things used to be easy for him. High School Sweethearts with Olivia. A beautiful son he loved dearly. High ranking in the military. Being given the honor of becoming the new Captain America.

It was all ripped from him. Claw marks left in his wake. Achievements. Accolades. Friends. Family. Respect. All gone. His name was a blotch on any and every headline. Causing more people disgust than faith.

He was unsure how much more he could handle. Ready to give it all up until the Thunderbolts* saved him. Finally finding people who saw him as a normal, breathing human being. Flaws and past mistakes not damning to everyone. Only a small part of what made him John Walker. Able to find comfort and validation from the New Avengers. Befriending Bob Reynolds, who he lovingly called ‘Bobby’, bonding with Alexei over shared recipes and cooking tips, razzing back and forth with Ava and Yelena; it had became a family to him.

Especially with you.

Knowing he could fall into your arms at any moment. You were like the warm light from inside when he had been locked out in the cold. Welcoming him with a warm embrace. There was no sign of uncertainty or judgement from you. Even when he would lie and puff his chest to seem bigger and tougher than he was emotionally. Or when you two would get agitated and begin name calling. Slowly beginning to laugh as the you came up with a stupid sounding insult. Unable to remain angry at each other for too long. You liked him for him. When he looked at you, he knew where his home was. Even if neither of you were ever willing to admit it.

And maybe it was all one sided. He was coming to terms with that. Accepting a life where he had to watch from afar as Bucky got the girl of his dreams. Got to hold you every night. Wake up next to you each morning. Simply getting the privilege to be yours.

No.

He could not accept this. Not like this. Forehead pressed into the column, an arm rested above his head. Teeth grinding together as he tried to regain composure. Faint and distant voices alerted him from above. Steadying his breathing as to not give away his cover. Focusing his ears to understand them.

"Didn't you hear? Barnes and Y/L/N are an item," one woman gossiped to her friend. A labored gasp escaping the other woman. Giggling together.

"No!"

"Saw the headline the other day. Guess tonight confirms it," she sipped her drink.

"Sure does like to get around, doesn't she? Thought she had settled down with one of those older Avengers."

John's jaw locked. Fists bruising at his sides. Nails almost breaking the skin in his palm. Blood boiling below the surface. Nostrils flaring with his concentrated breaths. Like a bull having a red flag waved before him. If he had to hear one more stranger utter your name he swore he would lose his mind. Lip twitching as the two women walked off somewhere, voices carrying with them.

You were the topic of all discussion tonight.

Rage was overflowing from him. All these strangers discussing his girl. Acting as if they knew you at all. Painting you as some villain amongst heroes. His teeth were clamped so tight that it was shocking one had not busted yet. Huffing like a bull about to charge. His chest ached. Molten hot blood pumped through his veins as he spiraled with each new thought that entered his mind.

Your hands on Bucky’s chest. Sultry smiles on both your faces. Everyone around you approving and celebrating. Bucky’s hands on your waist and back. Lips nearing in—

“FUCK—“ John punched the same pillar. Losing himself to his anger. Hands scraping against his scalp as he ruffled his own hair. Palm slamming repeatedly against his temple trying to stop the thoughts that intruded him.

This was not going to happen.

Luckily, the crowd around you had died down. Your hands folded neatly in front of you as you stood off to the side. Leaned against a wall as you watched your teammates discuss things with politicians and news outlets. Maybe they would say something that got this target off your back. Sick and tired of being the center of attention.

Your opportunity was here. You could sneak off, even if it was just for a moment. Fresh air calling your name like a siren to a sailor. Taking one final look around the room before slowing backing to meet the door. Discretely escaping into the big empty corridor. Fingers flexing at your sides as you took multiple deep breaths. Looking up at the windows and how the moon shined down on you.

Silence.

Peaceful.

You closed your eyes and flattened a hand over your chest. Feeling the low thump of your heartbeat. Clearing your mind of all the struggles of the evening.

Except one.

John. The pain on his face when the paparazzi and crowds flooded you and Bucky. How quickly he fled from you. It made you nauseous.

Regretting not confessing your feelings to him before tonight. Maybe then all of this would not have been so misconstrued. At the end of the day, you had no interest in a relationship with Bucky. He was charming and would make a wonderful husband… for someone other than you.

John was all you wanted.

And you wish you had told him before now.

The door beside you creaked. Composing yourself so that whoever was going to enter would not see how you were breaking.

A firm grasp pulled you into the vacant hallway. Your back scuffing against the cold porcelain wall. Air escaping your lungs as you grunted from the sheer force. Opening your eyes to see cerulean bulbs staring at you. Brows knitted so tightly together they could have been one.

Sound of your heartbeat thumped against your eardrums. Only able to take small quick breaths, lungs never refilling. Bruising fingertips dug into your shoulders. Keeping you still.

“J-John…?”

Predatory eyes glued into yours. Feeling like a bunny trapped in the jaws of a coyote. Teeth sinking further until you were paralyzed. Knowing any second it would all be over. Fear pumped through your veins in the meantime.

John’s head cocked slowly to the side. Scanning trained eyes down your figure. Soft twitch of his upper lip barely noticeable. Sweat began to form along your brow. Swallowing your dry mouth. Bottom lip quivering as you tried to speak.

His hand came up to caress your jaw. Fingers splaying softly against the side of your jugular. Burning from his touch. Thumb padding at your lip. Dragging it down with his digit. Gently rubbing circles into your jaw with it afterward.

“Everyone’s favorite girl tonight,” his voice was raspy and low.

“Wh-what?”

“All these eyes. All over you. Little Miss Popular,” he smiled, more so resembling a snarl.

You rested your head against the wall behind you, angling your chin so that you could hold eye contact. His pupils were like black holes. Sucking you in, and there was no getting away from him.

"I've been trying to be with you all night," you admitted coyly.

"Barnes keeps taking you from me," he breathed. Jealousy spitting from him like venom. His stern eyes analyzed your reaction. Slight twitch of your eyebrow irritating him.

“You liked it, didn’t you?”

Your stomach flipped, “John—“

“Liked having two guys fight over you,” his hand outlined your side, leading down to your hip, “Getting to be the center of attention tonight. Able to make two super soldiers crumble with a simple flutter of your lashes. Makes you feel real powerful, doesn’t it?”

This was a side of him you had never seen. Overtaken by jealousy for your colleague. Interrogating you like you were a foreign enemy. Intimidating glare locked onto your face.

And you would be lying if you said it did not have every inch of you tingling. Your head was spinning. Musky cologne overwhelming your nostrils. Wanting to touch him. To pull him flush against your body, just to say you could feel him. You mouthed words that could not form. Not sure exactly what he wanted from you like this.

His nose was narrowing in on yours. Lips barely separated as you breathed the same air. Trying to stay as quiet as possible. Almost too afraid to speak and run the other off. The silence was thick. Suffocating you. John’s fingertips dug into your hip, the other hand resting against the wall next to your head.

“Want me to give you back to him?”

You shook your head immediately, “I want you…”

John groaned, eyes squinting shut for a moment. His forehead falling against yours as his lip quivered. Labored breaths rolling throughout his torso.

“Say it again,” John grumbled, fingers bruising your skin.

“I don’t want Bucky. John… I want you,” you said a little more confident. Hands finally mustering the courage to touch him. Flattening against his chest, roaming every inch of his upper half. Fingertips dancing against his chest hair peaking out of his collar.

John’s hand cupped your cheek. Instinctively leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. A low whimper bubbling in the back of your throat. Driving John mad. The feeling of your hands all over him, the way you gave in so easily to his touch, how your voice was lined with desperation; he needed you more than ever.

His head tilted slightly. Slowly and gently pressing his lips to yours. Sparks ignited deep within your guts. Lips locking into yours like they were made for one another. Your arms snaked around his shoulders, folding hands over the back of his neck. His tongue prodded at your lips, testing the waters. You allowed him access as you shifted to meet his lips. Lapping into your mouth as if you were his last meal. Trying to get every last taste on his tongue.

His hands roamed down your back, splaying along your spine and pushing you against his front. Able to feel the stiffening outline at his groin. It heated up your skin, face flushing entirely at the idea. Lips ventured down your throat. Kissing and experimenting with teeth along your pulse. You gasped softly when one of his canines grazed you. Wanting to mark you as his. Leave hickeys and bite marks all where anyone and everyone could see. Especially Congressman Barnes. Teach him to stay away from you.

But he knew better. Knew that would only cause more rumors to spiral, something he could not put on you. He supposed he could wait until he got you alone. Leave some serious marking on your chest. A secret only the two of you would know.

Tapping of shoes against linoleum causes you both to jump. They were above you. Two pairs. Heavier than the ones John had previously heard. Their deeper voices echoed throughout the vacant room. John quickly planted his hand over your mouth. Raising his other finger to his mouth to make sure you would stay quiet. Taking control of the situation. It made your core pulse. His eyes looked upward like it helped him focus on their voices.

“Barnes and Y/L/N. Who would have thought,” one of the men muttered.

“I don’t care. I’m just relieved this is going to take all the heat off the Gala’s back. We’ll be lucky if those two boys don’t make this event the joke of the year,” the other replied.

John’s eyes peered to yours. Jealousy brewing behind his irises. You widened your eyes at him, shrugging.

“It’s probably a good thing someone finally kicked their asses. I don’t even know why they would give those two bozos a media pass. All they do is sexually harass women,” the first man sighed.

John blinked rapidly. His head lowering for a moment. Almost like he was trying to come up with a cover.

You arched your eyebrows at him. Guilt clear on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Woman haters and all that. Who isn’t?” their voices carried away. Remaining in the position John had you held in waiting until they were completely gone. No more footsteps. No more chattering.

John pulled his hand away from your mouth. Taking a deep breath as he looked at you. You smirked knowingly, “John…”

He gritted his teeth as he scoffed. Rolling his eyes over exaggerated. Palming against his hair as he rolled his shoulders. Blown pupils looking into yours. Quickly tucking his face back against your neck.

“I heard what they said to you. Had to teach them a lesson,” he grumbled finishing his sentence with a kiss.

Heat bloomed in your chest. The fact he had taken care of those shitty podcast bros just because they disrespected you. Almost like an ownership over you. As badly as you needed to scold him in this moment, you were flattered. Your protector.

John hooked one of his hands around the back of your thigh. Arching it around his waist as he inhaled deeply. Taking in the smell of you like he would possibly forget it one day. Stiffened member rested against your core. Layers of clothing making it a little more difficult to feel, but he was there. One of your hands tangled in the back of his hair. Whispering sweet little moans into his ear.

You were driving him absolutely insane. His restraint was slipping with each breathless sigh in his ear. Each swipe of his tongue against your collar. How perfectly your bodies felt pressed together. He had waited so long for you, longer than he was ever willing to wait before. It was all about to crumble.

His hand roamed under your dress. Skillful fingertips finding the band of your panties, tugging at it. Rimming the waistline, barely dipping his fingers beneath. Hungry lips traveled up your throat, resting open on the sensitive spot right below your ear. Huffing loudly like all the air had been punched out of him.

“Need you,” was all he could force out. Rolling his hips against your core. Chasing the feeling of your warmth. You cracked out a moan. Gingerly, he pressed kisses along your jawline, “Tell me you need me too.”

It was almost desperate. His insecurities showing for barely a moment. Wanting validation. Needing to hear you say how badly you needed him. Vindicating all his actions tonight. His anger. Jealousy. Loss of control.

“I need you, but… we can’t… not here,” you sighed, one hand clawing against his back muscles.

“I’ll run back to that goddamn tower with you in my arms if it means I can have you,” John admitted.

“We can catch a cab,” you suggested instead. The implication that he was this wound up had your head fuzzy. John pulled back to meet your gaze. Smiling widely.

In a flash, you were being dragged out the side exit. John helped you down the stairs, making sure to keep a pretty image for any wandering eyes. Walking a little funny to hide the tent that was pitching in his slacks. Walking a short distance down the street to get away from the glitz and glam of the Gala. Catching a standard yellow cab. John let you in first.

John instructed the driver of the address. Leaning back and planting his hands firmly in his lap. Something shifted when you left the highly tense environment of the banquet. Almost like neither of you would dare look at the other. Lines of streetlights would pass over each of your faces. Staring out the windows on either side of the cab. Your heart was racing. Pulse thudding against your eardrums. Your entire body was hot to the touch. It all seemed fake, maybe that was why you did not dare make eye contact. Too afraid of pushing the other away. It was intimate.

John rested his hand on the small space between your seats. Catching your attention, almost like an invitation. You grazed your fingertips over the top of his hand. Watching how he tried to look over at you without moving his head. His cheeks were red. Leg bouncing with anticipation. Your fingers wrapped around his palm, makeshift hand holding.

Goosebumps traced down his arms. Swallowing the large lump that had swollen in his throat. After harboring all these feelings for you for so long in secret, it felt fake. Never could he have believed you would reciprocate.

You shifted in the back of the cab. Scooting and closing the distance between you. John barely dared to turn his head, soft eyes meeting yours. You flattened a hand on his thigh, pushing yourself against him. Your lips trailed up his neck to his ear. Barely leaving kisses in your wake. His lip quivered. Arm snaking around you to grip onto your hip. His tongue darted out to wet his drying lips.

“Your room or mine?” you traced a finger up his thigh, landing on the place he longed for you most. Palming him slowly overtop his zipper.

His head fell backwards as he sighed. Trying to catch his breath and form a cognitive thought. His lips were parted as he attempted to think. Digits bruising into your side.

“Come on, Cap. Give me an answer,” you teased, kissing up his jaw and resting your mouth directly next to his.

John shivered.

“Keep it up and we won’t make it inside,” his voice had dropped an octave. Eyes completely black and hungry. Capturing your lips in his. His other hand coming up to grasp your face, holding you in place as he shifted. Guiding you onto his lap, straddling his thigh. You gasped. Friction feeling obscenely good against your core. Rolling your hips slowly. Breaking the kiss to press your forehead into his. Panting the same air between you. Trying your hardest to stay quiet. Until he bucked his leg up forcing you to rut against his strong muscle. You whined as you fell into him.

You were like two wild animals. Not caring about your driver. Not caring how desperate you seemed. Just needed friction and warmth. Wanting to be as close together as possible.

You held your breath as the vehicle stopped. Looking out the window to the front of the New Avenger’s Tower. Relieved to not see any lingering cameramen. John thanked the driver and paid before practically yanking you out.

Swiftly retreating into what would now be your safe haven. His hand was firm on your wrist. Tugging you into the elevator. His hands were on your face before he could even think. Kissing you again. Both of you giggling and smiling as he pushed you back into the wall.

“Mine,” he muttered barely audible, “All mine.”

It had you trembling. The elevator stalled and you both stiffened up. Having to prepare just in case the two remaining members of your team just so happened to be in the hallway. The doors slid open and John peeked his head out. Able to hear the speakers of the television from behind Bob’s door. Ava was no where in sight. Given, she could be basically anywhere she wanted in an instant.

He reached his hand back to you, pushing his finger to his lips as he guided you out. Both your far too fancy shoes clicked against the waxed floor. Traversing the dark hall, your end goal basically in your grasp. You both held your breath when you reached his door. Binging of the keypad made him cringe, like someone was blaring an airhorn in this silence.

The door breathed open. Giddily, John allowed you to step inside first. Making sure to lock the door behind you both. It was dark. Moonlight beaming through the far too tall transom window above his bedside. Stars barely visual from the light pollution of the city. His room was well kept. Bed made perfectly. Not a single piece of discarded clothing to be found. Not surprising for the veteran, that boot camp spirit still resided in his chest.

“Finally alone,” his voice echoed off the heightened walls. Hands outlining the curves of your figure. Coming up to grope at your breast, your back pressed perfectly against him. Greedy lips kissed up the back of your neck. You shivered.

“I’ve wanted to tear this dress off you since I first saw you today,” John growled in your ear as his hands crinkled the fabric between them. You leaned further into him, arching your ass so that it pressed firmly into his groin. His hands began to pull the zipper down your back. Exposing your bare skin to the chill of his room. Starting to push it off your shoulder when you spun around to stop him.

“Eager, eager,” you chastised with a grin.

John’s brows bounced up his forehead as he stared at your chest. Loose dress slipping to reveal more of your breast, barely teasing at your nipples.

“Can you blame me? I’ve had to watch you flaunt around all night. Rubbing your hands all over me in the limou then flirting with Bucky right in front of me? You’re a goddamn tease,” John snickered, hint of jealousy spitting with his words.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you squeezed your arms together at your front so that your breasts pressed together, faming ignorance. The fabric of your dress was barely holding on at the curve of your chest. John’s eyes could not leave the temptation. Swearing that if he stared hard enough all your clothes would fly off.

You stepped and grabbed at his suit jacket. Trailing gentle digits up it and beginning to edge it off his shoulders, “How can you call me a tease when you’re dressed like… this.”

John’s head fell to the side, sizing you up. Expression flat and eyes analytical. Shining in the reflection of the moon. Lips sealed fighting off the smile that wanted to creep across his face. Cocky eyes urging you to continued.

“Shirt unbuttoned showing off your chest,” you opened his jacket, “Stupid fucking dog tags that you knew I’d see.”

You had made an offhand comment once about them dangling in your face as he fucked you… a joke, or atleast at the time what you thought was a joke.

John shedded the overcoat into the floor. Muscles bulging against the size-too-small black button down. Plush bit of his tummy pressing against the bottom buttons. Still fit, just more of a dad bod than his active days in the military. Slow and sensually, he undid his buttons. One by one. Painstakingly slow and taunting. Revealing his chest that was decorated in unkempt hair. Freckles and scars. Chain dangling along his clavicle. He looked fucking delicious.

You gawked at him. Eyes raking down and landing on the bulge in his dress pants. John snapped his fingers, pointing them to his eyes, “Your turn.”

Rushing to your core. His demanding side turning you on more than you ever thought it would. You needed him. Desire to please him filling every bit of your being. You slowly began rolling your dress off your shoulders. Just before your bare breasts were revealed, you turned your back to him. Sliding it off so that your entire back was visible. Fancy fabric pooling around your ankles, revealing the lace thong you wore.

John grunted in disapproval and arousal. Eyes raking down the curve of your ass. Beautifully accented by the lace. You looked over your shoulder at him, lip pulled between your teeth. Grin pulling at the corners of your lips. Darkened pupils locked harshly on the sides of your rear spilling out the sides of your panties. Jumping up to meet yours, eyebrow arched.

His shoes clicked against the floor as he walked over to you. Harsh hands pushed you forward. Your front slamming into the mattress. Back arching off it. Soft linens adorned its top. You were shocked at the sheer force he used against you. Calloused digits ghosted down your sides, digging firmly into the dips of your hips. A growl escaping his throat as he massaged the tender and plump flesh, “Always a fucking tease with you.”

You gasped when he planted a firm smack to your skin. The crack echoes across the walls reverberating in your core. You whined. Arching yourself further into his touch. Hands became kind suddenly when he rubbed them against the red forming mark. Outlining the whale tail at your lower back. Stretching the lace with one finger, hooking around to begin pulling it down. Losing patience and ripping them effortlessly.

Cold air fanned over your core. Causing your throbbing cunt to pulse around nothing for a moment. Needing his touch more than you realized when you felt how slick your folds were. You squirmed trying to urge him into touching you, earning yourself a click of his tongue. Your breasts pressed into the soft duvet, nipples hardening as you rubbed against it.

“What is it, baby? Wanting me to touch you? Huh?” one of his hands turned and cascaded down the curve of your cheek. Fingertips nearly touching your puffy lips. His hint of mockery had you gasping for air. Needing him.

“Please John,” you practically whimpered.

“Pretty when you’re this desperate,” he slid one finger through your lips. Coating himself in your juices as it coaxed up to your nub. Circling it slow with hardly any pressure. It was nearly painful. Your hips bucked and your lungs tightened.

You felt him lean over your back. His bare front tickling your now sweat ridden skin as he planted a kiss on your shoulder blade. Then the middle of your spine. Then your lower back. Then your ass cheek. Creeping his way down to where he wanted to devour you. Imagining you would taste like heaven wrapped in a beautiful little bow. Gifted to him like he had finally earned it. A break of some kind. His leg up on his fellow super soldier. It was finally his chance to be happy.

Abruptly, a finger pushed between your folds. Sinking itself halfway into your hole. You called out. His name a prayer that had been withheld from you for so long. It made him gleam.

His other hand flattened against your stomach, pushing you into a more angled arch. Ass in the air and pussy lips directly in front of his foaming mouth. He was drooling at the sight. Pretty and needy, just how he imagined you would be. He cooed your name before lapping into you.

Relentless assault of his tongue had you shifting and almost crying from how good he felt. His finger circled your clit as he pistoned his tongue in and out of your hole. Tasting as sweet as honey. The finest delicacy he had ever had the honor of feasting on.

And he was good. Almost too good. Like he already knew the ins-and-outs of your body. The way the slow drag of his finger made you tense and near your orgasm. It had been some time since you were able to find release. Too busy to even begin to think of touching yourself.

John was panting as he continued to work you. Groaning and huffing, sounds growing sloppy as you coated his face. Chasing your high. Walls beginning to tense up.

“You gonna cum on my tongue?”

“Uh-huh—“ you called out with a cry.

“Think Bucky could ever make you feel this good?” John growled between your legs.

You shook your head profusely. Tears welling at the corners of your eyes.

“Say it,” his deep voice boomed through your body.

“No, John. Only you,” you whined. Grinding against his mouth to get closer and closer to sweet bliss. Repeating yourself half coherently as you squinted your eyes.

“That’s it,” John praised, “Give it all to me.”

Air was a faltering force. White lights flashed behind your eyes as you came on his face. Pushing yourself back against his mouth. His beard scraping along you perfectly as he forced his tongue as deep as possible. Mumbling and groaning as you contorted around him. Thighs and calves shaking uncontrollably.

You fell forward. Huffing desperately. Difficult to control your body as it started to come down from its high. “So fucking good, John,” you whispered breathlessly.

It flowed straight to his cock. His mouth wet from devouring you. Wiping himself off on the back of his hand. Wicked grin behind you hidden. You were already drunk in ecstasy. It made him excited. The way his finger was slick with your remnant. The way his name barely mixed with your labored breaths. The way your body tingled and twitched. He was losing himself to it all.

After cleaning his finger off with his tongue, he tenderly patted your side. Understanding your brain was mush by now. Helping you flip onto your back. Hooded eyes stared up at him. Teetering on the line of slumber simply from how good it all felt.

John looked like a man who had just won a race. Shoulders rising and falling rapidly. A glint in his eyes like he was being handed over the grand prize.

You were his trophy.

How you spread your legs to welcome his body between them. Your arms barely reaching out to him, begging for his weight on yours. He snickered at your limp body. “One orgasm and you’re already begging for more?”

You puckered your bottom lip at him. Doeing your eyes up at him with a slight tilt of your head. His stomach twisted. Knowing you were one of the strongest people he knew. Knowing you took shit from no one. He had seen you kick the asses of enemies more times than he could count, just for you to smile at him right after. So to see you so small and needy below him… it awoke something inside him.

John rose to his full height. Finally throwing his dress shirt off his body. Quick to whip his belt from his hips and throw it onto the floor. His pants following suite. Cock straining against the thin elastic fabric of his boxer-briefs. Thick. Curved into his thigh. No other distinguishable features… yet.

He was fit. Thighs and stomach bulging with strong muscles. Arms an obvious muscular asset. Gorgeous. Handsome. Knowing he must have been crowned the Prom King his Senior Year. Every girl would’ve had a crush on him.

“John,” you swooned, “You are so pretty.”

His face flushed at the blunt compliment. All your previous cryptic comments and personality gone. Throwing everything on the table, damn the consequences.

He grinned as he crawled between your legs. Arms framing beside your ribcage, lips falling against your collar. “Yeah? That’s something coming from the Gala’s Favorite Avenger,” he kissed up your neck.

You were growing antsy. Needing to see, and feel, his cock. You had danced around each other for too long. Your patience was gone.

“I need it,” you whined rolling your hips upward.

John’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at you. Cockiness on his brow as he showed off perfect teeth. “Hmmm,” he started, “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. Need what exactly?”

“Fuck you,” you spit.

John laughed at your break. Frustration building up inside you like pressure inside a slow cooker. Kissing you once more as he crawled higher, his nose hovering above yours.

You clawed up at him. Nails scratching down his hairy chest. His eyes fell closed, savoring the nice sting. He was enamored by any and everything you did. You were his.

“Is that what you want?”

You suddenly became embarrassed under his strong gaze. Turning your head to avoid his eyes. John chuckled, hand coming up to pinch your chin between tight fingers. Forcing you to look up at him. Smug, and ungodly handsome.

“Don’t act like you have a problem talking,” he smirked.

“I hate you,” you scowled.

“I know, I know. That’s why you’re cumming on my face, right? Why you think I’m so pretty?”

Your hands framed his face, trying to force an intimidating expression. Losing it when his eyes softened as they looked into yours. Smiling like you were the love of his life. Like there was nothing else in the world but you. And it made you shift.

Pulling his lips down to meet yours, “Please. I want to feel you, John.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” John smiled, breath fanning down your face at the confession. He was quick to force his underwear off his body. Cock lewdly smacking against his stomach. Tip flushed red and swollen, a thick vein running around it. Gorgeous. Every fucking inch of him was.

He framed his cock with his hand, hooking one of your legs around his hip. Lining up with your entrance. Looking up at your face once more, “You… want this, right?”

“More than anything,” you knocked away his insecurity.

The corner of his mouth curved for only a moment. Pushing only the head in. Steadying himself. Eyes squinting shut as his brows knitted in thought. Concentration. He would not last long inside you.

Slowly, he pulled back and pushed back in. Taking a few thrusts for you to adjust to him. His hips laid against yours. Heavy balls cradled against your ass. His jaw twitched as he stared in your eyes. You both were breathing with your mouths open.

He began a slow paced rhythm. Not long until his more aggressive urges took over. Slamming into you over and over again. His head craned to watch how your hole welcomed him over and over. Perfect. Designed by God just for him.

He lowered himself, arching an arm around you and pulling you to his chest. Hitting inside you with a new angle. Grunting in your ear with every move of hips. Kissing the side of your face, “Perfect. Fits me perfectly, Y/N.”

You whined his name. Nails close to breaking the skin of his hard back. A secondary wave approaching you, “J-John— I’m gonna cum.”

“I can feel it, baby. Me too,” he admitted. Hips growing erratic and messy. Just chasing that sweet spot inside you. The tip of his cock would bump your cervix occasionally. Sending electrical shocks throughout you. You dug your heels into his back, kissing him with a loud moan.

You came unraveled around him once more. Walls tightening around his cock, pushing him over his own edge. He groaned as he forced his hips flush with yours. Shooting white hot seed as deep into your womb as you would allow it. Almost like finally claiming you as his and his alone. Swearing there was an admission of something more that escaped under his breath. Not that you would acknowledge it.

John slumped against you. Sweat sticking your bodies together. Cock slowly softening inside your walls. The occasional aftershock causing him to want to stay inside you forever. He rolled over, pulling you with him. You both winced as he slipped out.

Comforting, familiar silence filled the space. You nuzzled up beside him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you circled a nail around his bare chest. Tickling the hair that decorated along it. Watching how his chest rapidly rose and fell. Stamina higher than a standard man, but still he got winded.

“Did you… really knock those guys out just for me?”

John’s muscles tensed up. Leaning to look at you. Your eyes were dewy and wide. Convincing yourself there had to be another reason for his actions. Maybe they said something about his ex-wife. Maybe they were dogging him for being an absent father. Maybe—

“Of course I did,” John breathed out.

Your face heated up. Eyebrows rising at his admission. Lips parting as you looked at him in awe. He smiled softly, hooded eyes gazing longingly into yours.

John leaned and placed a kiss against your head, “No one talks to my girl like that.”

You pushed yourself up to kiss his cheek.

Your knight in shining armor.

~~~

*Bonus*

Ava smirked as she watched you and John stumble into his bedroom. Trying to stay quiet, but it did not matter for her. She was able to keep quieter than anyone else. Which was how she hid at the end of the hallway where neither of you noticed her. Perks of her rather painful powers.

She grabbed her phone from her pocket, quickly texting Yelena, ‘Romeo and Juliet just got back.’

Yelena only responded with several question marks.

‘Paris still there with you?’ referring to the Shakespearean tragedy.

Yelena looked around. Realizing you had vanished after becoming the star of the dance floor. Noting how Bucky was still here, but John was not. Quickly putting the pieces of Ava’s cryptic joke together.

‘Y/N AND JOHN?!?!’ Yelena typed out with wide eyes.

Ava simply responded with a thumbs up. Giggling to herself as she phased back into the living room to text her friend until she returned. She would be lying if she said she had not been Team Walker for you.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I know I went heavy into detail with this one, but I just love the idea of two guys fighter over Reader when she only has feelings for one of them. I think John and Bucky are two of the most complex characters we have, so I enjoy writing for them both. I look forward to writing more. As always, my inbox is always open. Send me requests, questions, or anything else you wanna! Comments and Reblogs are appreciated! Love ya //

{tags}

@puppygar ~ @somemadart ~ @person-005 ~ @witchygagirl ~ @illyrianbrat ~ @fire-joestar ~ @imtherain ~

[rainyfey]

GoodEveningClarice's "Momo Ayase vs The World" was one of the first fics I read back when the Dandadan brainworms took up residence in my head. It's been living rent-free in there with them ever since!

I'm such a sucker for teammates having to fight each other and when the Yokai Curses become uncontrollable in some way. This fic is a really, really fun study of that 💖 Please give it a read if you get the chance *(and if you're caught up thru chap.120 in the Manga!!)

[holyblonded]

reds vs blues | always sunny is australia

pairings: sam kerr x teen!reader, chelsea wfc x teen!reader, arsenal wfc x teen!reader

summary: chelsea’s team bonding day at sam’s place, so they millie take the opportunity to trying to get you the chelsea

notes: i think this is my favorite chickie story

You enjoyed routines. They made you feel safe, grounded, like you had control over at least one part of your life.

Today was an off day, which meant you could follow your usual off-day schedule with no interruptions. Wake up at 5:45 AM, brush your teeth at 5:47 AM, breakfast—toast, eggs, and a protein shake— at 5:50 AM, and then a morning run and workout at 6:00 AM.

By the time you were jogging back to the house, sweat dripping down your back, you already had the rest of the day planned out in your head. After showering, you and Sam would go grocery shopping with the list Kristie had made for you both, and then you could spend the rest of the day relaxing. Routine. It was perfect.

Except when you pushed open the front door, expecting the usual peace of your home, you were instead met with a brick wall.

Except the brick wall was moving. You blinked up, heart racing, only to come face-to-face with Millie Bright.

Your body did what it always did when startled—fight or flight kicked in. And today, it was fight.

“OH HELL NO!”

Millie barely had time to react before you threw a punch. Luckily—or maybe unluckily—your fist never connected because suddenly, strong arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground.

“Chickie, stand down!” Sam yelled, laughing but also clearly trying to prevent an international incident.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘STAND DOWN’? THERE’S AN INTRUDER IN OUR HOUSE!” you shouted, still flailing as Sam held you back.

“Mate, I’m the intruder? You just tried to knock me out in my own teammates house?” Millie asked, looking half amused, half impressed as she rubbed her chest.

That’s when you finally registered the amount of people in the living room. Chelsea players. All of them.

Your eyes darted around, taking in Erin Cuthbert, Guro Reiten, Zećira Mušović, and—oh god, why did it have to be Lauren James witnessing your public humiliation?

“What… what the hell is going on?” you breathed out, still slightly squirming in Sam’s grip.

“Yeah, so funny thing,” Sam said, grinning sheepishly. “I may have forgotten to tell you that the Chelsea squad was coming over for team bonding today.”

“TEAM BONDING?” you shrieked. “AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO WARN ME?”

“I was gonna tell you!”

“WHEN?”

“…Probably after your run.”

“Well, you didn’t!” you huffed, glaring at her. “And now I just tried to punch your captain in the face!”

“You did try that,” Millie chuckled. “Gotta say, fast reflexes. Respect.”

“Yeah, no, I’m gonna go curl up in a hole and never come out again,” you muttered, hiding your face in your hands.

“Oh, come on, don’t be embarrassed,” Erin teased. “If anything, this just makes you an honorary Chelsea player. Half of us probably wanted to punch Millie at some point anyway.”

“Wow, okay,” Millie scoffed. “This is what I get for being nice?”

The room burst into laughter, and despite your burning embarrassment, you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle too. Sam finally let go of you, but not before ruffling your hair like you were a misbehaving puppy.

“Welcome to Chelsea’s team bonding, Chickadee,” she said, still grinning. “You’re stuck with us now.”

You sighed dramatically. “This is literally the worst day of my life.”

“Oh, it’s only getting started,” Lauren said with a smirk. “We’re playing Mario Kart later. Hope you’re ready.”

You groaned. Routine was officially ruined.

The Chelsea squad should have known better than to challenge you at FIFA. You were unstoppable.

One by one, they had fallen. Erin, Lauren, Niamh, Erin, Guro, all of them left shaking their heads as you cruised through every match like a seasoned pro. It had gotten to the point where they weren’t even playing for fun anymore; they were playing to try and salvage what little dignity they had left.

“You’re a menace,” Lauren muttered, tossing the controller down after yet another humiliating loss. “This isn’t even fun anymore.”

“It’s fun for me,” you said with a smug grin, stretching your arms behind your head like you’d barely broken a sweat.

“Yeah, we got that,” Niamh grumbled, flopping down dramatically on the couch.

Millie, who had been watching the massacre unfold, cracked her knuckles and grabbed a controller. “Alright, move aside, amateurs. Time for the big guns.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Erin snickered, nudging Guro.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Millie said, rolling her shoulders. “You’re all just mad you couldn’t get the job done. I am about to end this reign of terror.”

You snorted. “You sure about that?”

“Absolutely.”

Millie set up her team with the focus of someone preparing for war, but you noticed the smirk playing on her lips as she spoke again.

“So, Chickie,” she started casually, too casually, “what’s your contract situation at Arsenal again?”

You narrowed your eyes, already sensing the setup. “One-year deal.”

Millie’s smirk grew. “Interesting. Interesting. Y’know, Chelsea’s got some open spots next season. Big club, lots of trophies, amazing facilities…”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m a Gunner, Millie.”

She clicked her tongue. “No, you’re currently a Gunner. You could be so much more.”

You focused on the screen, determined to ignore her as the match kicked off. But that didn’t stop the entire Chelsea squad from jumping in.

“Imagine playing in blue,” Lauren mused. “Wouldn’t that suit you so much better?”

“Imagine all the assists you’d get from me,” Erin added.

“You and Sam, back to playing together again,” Niamh sighed dreamily. “A beautiful homecoming story, really.”

“Better wages, better teammates, better club,” Millie emphasized.

“Arsenal’s literally above you in the table right now,” you shot back.

The room erupted into gasps and dramatic reactions.

“OH, SHE WENT THERE.”

“COLD-BLOODED.”

Millie, still locked into the game, smirked. “You don’t have to answer now, but just think about it, yeah?”

You shrugged. “I am thinking about it.” Then, without breaking a sweat, you slotted a goal past her keeper and leaned back with a smug grin. “And my answer is still no.”

Millie groaned, raking a hand through her hair. “Oi, Sam, help me out here.”

Sam, who had been lounging on the couch watching all of this unfold, just shook her head with a knowing grin. “Nah, I already tried and failed. Not getting into this one. Besides, I let her make her own choices.”

Millie gawked at her. “You’re actually useless.”

The Chelsea girls immediately turned their teasing onto Sam.

“Wow, Sam, you had one job.”

“Captain Kerr, failing her Chelsea recruitment mission?”

“Embarrassing for you, really.”

“Alright, alright, enough,” Sam huffed, waving them off. “I don’t see any of you convincing her either.”

Meanwhile, you scored again, making Millie throw her head back in despair.

“This is rigged,” she groaned. “We’re running this back. Best of three.”

“I’ve already beaten everyone here,” you taunted. “Do you really wanna embarrass yourself further?”

Millie pointed at you. “One more game. If I win, you have to consider Chelsea.”

You thought about it for a second before smirking. “And if I win?”

Millie paused. “…What do you want?”

You grinned. “You have to record a video, in full Chelsea gear, saying London is red and post it on your story.”

The entire room exploded.

“Oh my god, do it.”

“There’s no way you’d actually agree to that.”

“Millie, your reputation’s on the line here.”

Millie exhaled deeply, staring at the screen like it had personally wronged her. Then, after a long pause, she sighed. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Two minutes later, you were up 3-0.

Millie, groaning, dropped the controller and buried her face in her hands.

“You’re making me say London is red,” she mumbled.

“You agreed to it,” you said cheerfully.

The Chelsea squad was howling with laughter. Sam looked like she was about to cry.

“This is the best day of my life,” Lauren wheezed.

Millie lifted her head just enough to glare at you. “I hate you.”

You just smirked. “Keep trying, Bright. It’s never gonna happen.”

“You better cherish this moment because it’s never happening again,” Millie grumbled, arms crossed, glaring at your phone like it had personally wronged her.

You grinned, holding up the camera. “Alright, go on then.”

Millie inhaled deeply, like she was preparing to walk through fire. “London is red,” she said, voice flat, eyes dead inside.

“Louder,” you prompted, barely containing your laughter.

Millie shot you the filthiest look, but she had no choice. The entire Chelsea squad was watching, waiting, smirking. So, through gritted teeth, she repeated, “London is red.”

You smirked, tilting your head. “And what about Chelsea?”

Millie exhaled through her nose like a bull seeing red. “…Second best.”

That was it. That was the moment the room exploded.

Erin was howling, clutching her stomach. Lauren collapsed onto the couch, wheezing. Guro had to lean against the wall for support.

“This is history,” Lauren gasped, wiping fake tears from her eyes.

“You actually made her say it,” Erin wheezed.

Guro just shook her head in disbelief. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Millie, still fuming, muttered something under her breath before reluctantly posting the video to her Instagram story. The moment it went live, her phone blew up.

Within seconds, Leah Williamson reposted it with a million laughing emojis and the caption: The biggest win of the season.

Beth Mead added: Millie Bright, Arsenal’s newest signing?

Alessia Russo posted it with: She really said it with her chest followed by a crying emoji.

Even Millie’s own England teammates were absolutely roasting her.

“Delete it,” Millie grumbled, burying her face in her hands.

“Nope,” you chirped. “That’s staying on the internet forever.”

She groaned, slumping forward onto the couch. “I hate you so much.”

You patted her shoulder. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

A few hours later, the Chelsea girls invited you to lunch. After the FIFA massacre and Millie’s public humiliation, you figured you deserved a good meal. And for the most part, it was a nice, normal lunch. You were sitting next to Sam, deep in conversation about how adjusting to English seasoning was, when suddenly—

“So, Chickie…”

You froze. That tone. That voice. You knew exactly what was coming.

“No,” you said immediately.

Millie frowned. “I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

Erin smirked from across the table. “We all know what she’s gonna say.”

Millie ignored her, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. “Listen, I just think you’d look really, really good in Chelsea blue.”

You groaned, dropping your head onto the table. “Millie, give it a rest—”

“No, hear me out—”

“No!”

“You, Sam, same team again, beautiful reunion—”

“Millie.”

“A club that actually wins trophies—”

Lauren snorted into her drink.

“You wanna get sued for slander?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Millie just grinned. “All I’m saying is, we can make this happen.”

You turned to Sam, desperate for backup. “Please tell her to stop.”

Sam, sipping her drink casually, just shook her head. “Nah. I already tried and failed. Not getting into this one.”

Millie gasped dramatically. “Sam, you already had your go. Stay out of this.”

The entire table erupted into laughter.

“Sam, come on man.”

“One job, just the one.”

Sam just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

The next day at training, you were casually chatting with Alessia, Kyra, and Vic about Millie’s relentless recruitment efforts.

“She just won’t quit,” you sighed, shaking your head.

Kyra, nearly choking on her water, laughed. “She’s obsessed.”

Alessia smirked. “I knew she’d try something, but this is actually ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous?”

You turned to see Leah Williamson standing a few feet away, arms crossed, her face unreadable.

“Oh, Millie keeps trying to convince me to join Chelsea,” you said casually, completely oblivious to the way Leah’s entire soul seemed to leave her body.

“She what?!”

Kyra, Alessia, and Vic started dying on laughter. Leah on the other hand looked like she was about to have a full-blown panic attack.

You blinked at her, confused. “Yeah, I told her I’m a Gunner.”

Leah stared at you. You, standing there all innocent, all cute, completely unaware of the chaos you had just caused. Something in her snapped— before she even knew what she was doing, she stepped forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I have taught you well.”

Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and marched toward Renee.

You frowned. “Uh… what is she doing?”

Alessia, still laughing, clapped you on the back. “Oh, you’ll see.”

From across the field, you could see Renee’s eyes widen as Leah started talking. Renee’s hands were in the air. She was pacing, looking like she was about to combust. Then, she vanished.

And when she reappeared just before lunch, she looked way too pleased with herself. She plopped down next to you on the bench and grinned. “Just a heads up—there’ll be some changes to your contract soon.”

You frowned. “What? Why?”

Renee just patted your shoulder like you were a clueless child, which you were. “No need to worry about it.”

You were so confused.

By the time you got home, Kristie and Sam were waiting for you, smirking.

“Uh… what’s going on?” you asked warily.

Kristie leaned against the counter, looking smug. “Arsenal increased your release clause.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

Sam shrugged. “They basically made sure Chelsea can’t afford you.”

You blinked. The realization hit you like a truck. “Wait— Leah did this?!”

Kristie and Sam burst into laughter.

You groaned, flopping onto the couch. “Oh my god, I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

Somewhere, in another part of London, Millie Bright was probably screaming.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hii! Can I request one from Finn Bálor where he betrayed User (something like the storyline of Rhea, Damian and the New Judgement Day)

I love your writing! 🤍

the judgment day x reader (platonic) / finn balor x reader (romantic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️angst, comfort but angst‼️

OUR LOVE FADES TO BLACK

you were one of the first original members of the judgment day. way before rhea joined it was just you, edge and damian. way before dominik, jd and carlito joined. even way before your boyfriend finn joined. that’s how you actually grew closer. from simple greetings backstage to spending most of your time together, you grew an incredible strong bond and you both ended up falling in love with each other.

you definitely wasn’t expecting to fall in love, especially with a co worker. you knew how complicated things could get and you liked keeping your private life separated from your work life. but love is blind - as people say - and you ended up falling for the irish man - hard.

he loved you. he swore it to you.

“you are the one i want to build my future with” he used to whisper right after you made love. and you believed it.

yet something unpredictable and unexpected happened. something changed and you didn’t expect the end to feel like this.

but maybe you should’ve known the second he avoided your eyes in the hallway after the mess the group just made at summerslam.

it was the night after the fatal event. the night everything cracked — damian betrayed by finn, dom turning on rhea, the whole foundation of judgment day shaken to its core. your only family cracked from the inside.

you saw him right there a couple of hours after he made sure damian lost his title.

“can we talk?” you asked, voice low but steady. you didn’t want to cause a scene. not yet. crew was backstage and even if you noticed some eyes looking to your own direction, you pretended everything was okay.

finn didn’t stop walking, just gave you a shrug “later, maybe.”

“no. now finn” you stepped in front of him, searching his face “what the hell happened out there? you turned on damian, on us…” and the look on his face already told you everything you needed to know.

“don’t start” he muttered “you wouldn’t understand.”

“then make me understand!” you snapped, your voice cracking at the end “you’re my partner, both in the ring and…” you lowered your voice, softer now, more vulnerable than you meant to be “and outside of it.”

he hesitated. for a second, you thought you saw regret flicker in his eyes but it was gone just as fast.

“things change” he said simply, brushing past you without another word.

you stood frozen, chest tight, fists clenched. you didn’t follow him. maybe you should have. maybe you would’ve seen it coming.

monday night raw came fast, but the tension didn’t ease. he didn’t call you during the day nor did texted you.

you told yourself he’d explain eventually. maybe he just needed time. you’d been through worse together. you’d stood shoulder-to-shoulder in wars inside that ring. lovers, teammates, champions. what you had wasn’t just storyline —it was real.

you believed that.

until it shattered.

it was supposed to be a routine match — you vs. liv morgan. nothing you couldn’t handle. you were scheduled to have revenge fight for rhea and you loved the idea. and it was going your way, until the music hit. until he walked out.

finn.

you paused, confused. but then he smiled — smirked — and that’s when your stomach dropped.

he distracted the ref just long enough to let liv hit you and pin you down. you kicked out a second too late.

1, 2, 3.

the bell rang and your name wasn’t the one announced.

did finn? no, he couldn’t.

you sat up in disbelief, eyes wide, heart in your throat. finn slid into the ring, lifting liv’s arm in victory like he had just won the damn match. the crowd erupted, part cheers, mostly boos, but all you could hear was the way your heart cracked open.

you stood, slow and shaky, and walked toward him.

“what the hell was that?” you asked, voice low, hoarse with rage and heartbreak “finn?”

he didn’t even look at you instead he turned his back and walked out of the ring with liv morgan at his side while dom was waiting for her too.

you didn’t cry in front of the cameras. not there. not where the world could see but backstage, once the door shut behind you, tears fell from your eyes. angry broken tears.

the man who swore he loved you had just turned his back on you. used you.

and for what? you didn’t even know why.

then came the knock.

“go away…” you muttered, wiping your face with the back of your hand, not even caring who was from the other side of the door.

but the door opened anyway. of course it did. damian never listened.

he stepped inside, followed closely by rhea. both of them looked like hell — like everything they believed in had collapsed beneath their feet.

maybe it had.

you didn’t say anything. just looked at them, lips trembling, unable to form a sentence. damian walked over slowly, arms wide open. you didn’t even try to resist when he pulled you in.

“he did it to you too” rhea said quietly, voice tight with fury “you didn’t deserve that.”

rhea couldn’t understand why. neither could damian. they knew that man loved you. he worshipped the ground you walked. rhea understood why dom did what he did to her. damian understood why finn made him lose. but they couldn’t understand why would finn hurt you this bad.

you shook your head against damian’s chest trying to keep it together “you know…he said he loved me.”

“then he lied” damian growled, his voice protective in a way that broke your heart even more.

“i should’ve known after summerslam. i just… i thought maybe it was about the storyline itself…not” your voice faltered “not me.”

rhea sat beside you on the bench, her hand firm on your knee “he made his choice and he’s gonna regret it.”

you didn’t respond. you just let yourself sink into the comfort of the only two people who hadn’t turned their backs.

judgment day was falling apart.

but damian and rhea were still with you and somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, that was enough to hold on to.

“what do we do now?” you asked as tears kept rolling down your cheeks, staining damian’s t-shirt too.

“we fight. we make them pay” rhea said with a very pissed tone.

she made you crack a smile.

“i just…i can’t understand, i don’t understand…” he was naked underneath you just a couple of nights ago telling you how much he loved you. his hands on your hips as you were on his lap “…i truly can’t understand…” you never felt betrayed as now.

memories playing in your mind. from the way he held you and touched you. you just felt used now.

“i know love…” rhea said trying to comfort you but she knew that no matter what she was going to say, it wasn’t going to change the fact that you felt betrayed by the person you loved the most. “hey…listen y/n, you are not alone” rhea whispered, her voice fierce, like she was daring the world to try and take anything else from you “he might’ve walked away, but we’re not going anywhere. you hear me?”

you nodded into damian’s chest, fingers curling into his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

“he’s gonna regret this” damian murmured, low and dangerous. “not because you’re part of judgment day. not because he screwed over the team. but because he let go of you and you’re the best damn thing he ever had.”

it was too soon to believe it. too soon to breathe without it hurting but having them there — not as teammates, not as stablemates, but as your family — it made the pain a little more bearable.

“we’ll rebuild…” rhea said, her voice full of fire “without him. without dom. without jd and carlito…we’ll come back stronger and you? you’re not done. you’re just getting started.”

you weren’t ready to stand yet. not tonight. maybe not tomorrow, either.

but you would. not for finn. not for revenge.

for you and for the two people who stayed.

[mapiforpresident]

Can you please write number 27 with Obi? I love your stories!!!

Professional Conduct (Or Lack Thereof)

Obi x reader

~~~

It started off like a normal training session. The kind where everyone was still a little sore from gym work the day before, trying not to show it. A light warm-up, a few passing patterns, some finishing drills that surprisingly no one took too seriously, and then, as always, small-sided games.

Red vs. white bibs.

Lena ended up on white. You were on red.

You made eye contact across the pitch and she gave you that smirky little look. The one that said she already had a plan.

So you should’ve known.

The second you got the ball, she was on you.

You pivoted, back to goal, trying to shield it, but her arm snaked around your waist like it belonged there. Not in the “I’m here to steal the ball” way. More like the “this is mine” kind of way.

“Lena,” you warned, twisting away. “This is training.”

She just smiled and kept moving, hips brushing yours way more than necessary as you passed off the ball.

Next play, same thing. She pressed up behind you again, tighter this time, like her job was to make sure your shirts were touching. Her hand landed on your side, then your stomach, lingering for maybe half a second too long as you turned out of pressure.

You snapped your head over your shoulder and muttered low enough that only she could hear, “Your hands are all over me during drills.”

She grinned, completely unrepentant. “Blame muscle memory.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Mine or yours?”

“Both, probably,” she said, voice low and annoyingly smug.

You rolled your eyes and stepped away to reset, but not before adding under your breath, “Save it for the bedroom, Oberdorf.”

You didn’t think she’d hear you. She definitely did.

You heard her stumble, just for a beat, then she coughed to cover her laugh as the coach whistled to restart the drill. You didn’t look back, but you could feel her smirking behind you.

And sure enough, next time she marked you, she wasn’t pressing quite as close. Still physical, still competitive, she wouldn’t be Lena if she weren’t, but she’d dialed it back enough to at least pretend she wasn’t enjoying this a little too much.

After a solid twenty minutes of drills, the whistle blew for a quick water break. You made your way to the cooler and barely got your bottle open before Lena came up behind you, leaning in like she couldn’t help herself.

“You’re not mad at me, right?” she asked, voice all faux-innocent.

You side-eyed her. “You were acting like we were warming up for a completely different kind of cardio.”

Lena didn’t even blink. “Maybe I was just getting ready for game-day intensity.”

“Game day doesn’t usually involve you grabbing my hips and breathing down my neck.”

“Only because it’s not allowed.”

You looked at her, unamused. “We’re still at training, you menace.”

She just smiled, biting back another laugh, eyes sparkling. “You looked cute focused. I got distracted.”

You shook your head and took a long sip of your water, mostly so you wouldn’t smile back.

A few of the others started trickling over, Klara, Georgia, Sydney, and you straightened up quickly, slipping into your usual not-dating-my-teammate face as Klara passed by.

“You two fighting again or flirting again?” Klara asked casually, like it made a difference.

You didn’t answer, but Lena just bumped your shoulder and muttered, “Definitely flirting.”

“Training flirting,” Georgia added, deadpan. “My favorite genre.”

“Save it for the locker room,” Sydney chimed in, laughing.

You turned to Lena and whispered one last time, low enough that the others couldn’t hear, “Seriously. Save it for the bedroom.”

She leaned closer, barely touching, and said without missing a beat, “I’ll try… but I make no promises.”

God help you.

[c-nstellati-ns]

SO YOU WANNA LEARN ABOUT APOLLO ... ?

↻ NOW PLAYING ... VS. DJ Subatomic Supernova — Funk Fiction

> author's note — this is purely me going on a tangent about these powers and what i think they entail for our lovely reader in my latest mini series with our beloved conquest !! i saw some folk confused about how everything worked regarding it and i felt really bad cuz i never really did explain it properly :'-) if you have any questions, please do let me know! all the art featured here was drawn by yours truly as well ( i would also like to say that the soundtrack for this entire thing is the song i linked above, everybody go play no straight roads !! it's PEAK !!!!!!! )

YOU CAN READ PART 1 HERE.

RAMBLINGS BELOW ... ⤸

so! as we first established in my fic, you were part of the original guardians of the globe until a falling out with the immortal resulted in you completely withdrawing yourself from the team for some time now.

you were on a well deserved paid time off as the GDA technically still had you employed for your abilities.

regarding your abilities... What exactly are they?

( imagine the colours as anything you like !! i just chose blue green and yellow bc they're pretty :-) ) born with the ability to alter very sound to your will, you're able to do anything you can put your mind to. the GDA recognised that having you as an ally would be more beneficial to them rather than having you as an enemy so they decided pretty early on in discovering your powers to recruit you.

your powers are a mystery to the GDA on how they work completely as they don't have a faintest clue as to where exactly they even come from. any heavy injuries you may have sustained in the past was rapidly healed up as if you were from a different planet entirely— these powers kept you alive whether you wanted it or not.

the GDA, in an attempt to aid (control) your powers more thoroughly, they created mechanical implants within you that allows you to make holographic projections of your music. this allows you to more efficiently use your powers, switching from an upbeat energising tune that empowers your teammates to a more gentle, sleep inducing lullaby that heals virtually any wound. you can play any genre of music and have it aid those who you want to help. hell, you can even dance to the tune you make to amplify it if you'd like!

the music, once heard by those you wish to help, brings in a feeling of elation and joy, as if they could take on the world. it's sort of like a rallying cry of sorts, inspiring the hero to keep on fighting while your music gives them a literal damage and healing boost. those who have been under the influence of this music have reported feeling extra rejuvenated and happy after a tough battle that requires you to be there. though, oddly, it seems that any alien species, especially viltrumites, are affected even more than human superheroes.

( a cute little mark for reference :-D )

anyone under your melody feels influenced to do as your music says, whether that be good or bad. for you, it is mostly instinctual but sometimes emotional outbursts can cause heroes and villains alike to suffer if you so deeply desired it.

the GDA reports that you are ( supposedly ) a more supportive/defensive hero, thus deploying you when there must be crowds to be protected from any imminent dangers.

( healing spell and impenetrable sound bubble )

because of your specific niche of power, you have become extremely popular amongst the masses, even after you retired. it's become the celebrity life almost, which is the reason why in the fic you have a place away from the city for privacy and safety reasons.

so retirement was bound to happen! the stress had been getting to you for some time now and it was starting to give you early grey hairs. you were an idol of sorts to these people and that lifestyle did not suit you. it was a matter of time and you would preferred it when it didn't involve you almost dying.

if you have any questions, feel free to ask! :-D

all works belong to c-nstellati-ns ⓒ 2025. do not steal, repost or feed into AI. ask before translating.

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere platonic rivalry hcs between Naruto and Sasuke for their female team mate ^_^ please love to hear your thoughts 

Ah... So you're technically in Sakura's role for this. Sure!

Yandere! Platonic! Naruto vs Yandere! Platonic! Sasuke

Pairing: Platonic - Rivalry -> Sharing (In Ending 3)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Jealousy, Blood, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, Stalking, Murder, Forced companionship(s).

These two have always been rather similar to each other.

Unfortunately they can never seem to agree on something.

They've been rivals since they were put on Team 7.

When it comes to how you fit in the story... I can think of two ideas.

You're either in Team 7 alongside Sakura...

Or you take her role in this concept.

Either way... Their rivalry would start childish.

You knew the two when you were all young and on Team 7.

Naruto has always been loud and a lot to handle... while Sasuke has been quieter yet more brooding.

The two both have had lonely childhoods and do need companionship.

Naruto admits he wants people to like him.

Sasuke doesn't, more focused on being an avenger than anything...

Yet he finds himself enjoying your companionship.

Naruto has always been competitive.

He acts in such a way to try and impress you, to show you how capable he is.

Sasuke isn't interested in these challenges at first.

Sasuke just cares about getting stronger, not fighting Naruto to impress some girl.

That is until after a training session you complimented him... while he tried to ignore how it made him feel...

He found it pleasing to hear from you... and hated it when you gave that same praise to Naruto.

Their rivalry is originally based on power.

They both want to get stronger to achieve their goals.

Yet it progresses into getting the attention of their dear friend and teammate.

They aren't romantically interested... Sakura ends up dealing with more of that.

It's more like they both like impressing you and want you to pick a favorite.

It's petty and childish before the second half of the show.

Just two kids trying to impress a friend they've both grown fond of.

Naruto is the one who's more obvious with it.

He pushes himself to show you techniques he learned and practically goes feral if you're injured in a mission.

Sasuke is more laid back.

He likes your attention and hates Naruto trying to take it, but he doesn't go out of his way to impress you.

He has other things to worry about than impressing girls.

Despite that he still keeps an eye on you and protects you, often scolding Naruto if he didn't protect you.

Again, all childish competition between two rivals who happen to enjoy the same person.

It's when Sasuke leaves Konoha and becomes pretty much a threat to everyone that the rivalry shifts.

It's no longer about impressing you.

The two are much older now with very different ideals.

Naruto is still mostly the same as he was... but Sasuke is a threat.

You rarely see Sasuke, mostly being around Naruto to help him with his own goals.

Naruto is obsessed with getting Sasuke back... yet at the same time feels a bit proud that you stayed with him as his friend.

However... Sasuke never gave up on you.

Sasuke is indeed obsessed with power and gave up camaraderie for it.

Yet there's times Sasuke manages to find you during his missions, looking all happy that you stayed with Naruto...

That you stayed with Konoha...

Sasuke feels envious and part of him doesn't like the idea of Naruto winning.

There's many times you and Sasuke meet.

It's not that surprising to assume he's following you.

Even in his search for power and vengeance... Sasuke only cares for a select few people.

You're on the top of his list.

Whenever he corners you on missions, it's never just to check in.

Sasuke keeps testing your strength... but at the same time he just wants to see you.

Naruto eventually breaks up the fighting to try and convince Sasuke to come back home.

Yet Sasuke lashes out, claiming Naruto is a fool to continue that goal...

Sasuke is also pissed he can never convince you to come with him.

Sasuke hates to admit it, but he misses the times he had with you in Team 7.

While he doesn't miss Sakura fawning over him... He misses how you'd help him train and support him without trying to get anything out of it.

Then he's reminded of the fact you did the same thing with Naruto...

He hates that.

It isn't long until this rivalry becomes a game of tug-o-war.

Sasuke eventually realizes to keep you to himself... to get you on his side... he'll need to kidnap you.

Naruto no doubt catches onto this quickly and rarely leaves your side, determined to not lose you too.

This rivalry can be deadly considering how the show goes on.

Both of these characters are powerhouses.

Sasuke is definitely going to aim to kill Naruto, even if he struggles to bring himself to do it.

Sasuke needs you to come with him... He needs you by his side.

You're his friend, aren't you?

Sure, Sasuke's pushed you away...

But he'll show you he's stronger than Naruto.

Naruto, on the other hand, is growing progressively more worried about his friends.

He knows Sasuke is upset that you didn't want to leave Konoha.

Naruto tries to keep you away, knowing Sasuke could easily hurt you if you fight him.

Naruto doesn't want to hurt Sasuke too much...

Yet Naruto also cares about you.

He cares about you more than anything at times.

If it ever comes to it and he can't get Sasuke to join him...

He might have to kill him....

Sasuke comes to try and take you with him, claiming Konoha isn't good enough for you.

Sasuke is willing to pry you from Naruto's arms, even if it means killing him.

Neither party wants to kill the other, but...

A decision needs to be made.

Naruto refuses to have Sasuke kidnap you.

He's tried... multiple times.

Naruto doubts Sasuke cares for your safety.

He just cares for nostalgia... or even just wants to own you.

There was always going to be a final confrontation between the two.

It's just in this case... you're also their goal.

It's very likely one of them will die, leaving the world in its own form of chaos.

If Naruto dies, Sasuke gets to steal you away, probably then demolishing the village or taking over.

If Sasuke dies, you'll be safe but Naruto would have failed his other friend...

The best outcome would be the one similar to canon, where they don't kill one another and probably even learn to share the friend they adore so much.

There aren't many good outcomes in this rivalry.

If one of them wins you'll probably be isolated... even if they shared, would you have freedom?

Naruto already barely leaves your side... and Sasuke has been adamant on bending you to his will to stay by him.

You try to calculate the best outcome...

Yet as their final confrontation goes on... and you witness their fight grow more bloody as time passes...

You can't tell what outcome would be the best for you.

These aren't really your friends anymore, are they?

They're selfish beings now, willing to do anything to get what they want.

You can only hope that by the end of the bloodshed... you'll have both of your friends in the end...

Yet as it goes on it gets harder and hard to tell.

Ending 1 - Naruto

This is one of the outcomes of this rivalry.

You and Naruto have been companions since Sasuke left Konoha.

Naruto didn't want to harm Sasuke too badly.

Let alone kill him.

Yet Sasuke made his choice clear.

He was going to find a way to get rid of Naruto then take you.

Naruto, unable to cope with the thought of you being hurt... snaps.

Naruto, due to the beast inside him, tends to give into his rage.

When he sees Sasuke run over to you and grab you...

He finds himself seeing red.

Suddenly, it doesn't matter what happens...

All that matters is you're safe.

Naruto wakes up with blood covering his clothes and you cradled in his arms.

According to others he defeated Sasuke.

He... killed him, actually.

Naruto is meant to be a hero... Hokage, even.

Yet he can't believe he did that.

His rival, his friend... Gone.

By his hands.

The news disturbs him greatly.

Yet when he sees you in his arms... safe in Konoha and under his protection...

He finds himself slightly soothed.

Sasuke was going to hurt you.

Naruto was just... protecting you.

Since then you're locked to Naruto's side.

He wants you as a companion, an assistant, just near him.

He hates talking about Sasuke, telling you and others not to bring him up at times.

He knows he was doing the right thing to protect you.

Yet now he worries about how easy it is to lose you...

He worries he'll hurt you too.

Despite this, Naruto doesn't allow you to leave Konoha.

He's won the battle... and the war... Now it's his job to keep his dearest friend safe.

He may even ask Sakura to help, the girl already finding issues with Naruto's thinking.

In theory, this should be a happy ending...

Yet it doesn't feel like one... Not with Naruto filled with grief...

Not with you still without freedom.

Ending 2 - Sasuke

Another outcome is Sasuke winning the battle and rivalry.

Sasuke originally didn't want to kill Naruto.

He tried to play nice, to bargain with his old friend.

If he just handed you over... Sasuke could limit the damage done.

Yet Naruto is stubborn as ever... protecting you like you're some weak girl.

Sasuke knows you're strong.

That's why he's been hunting you.

If Naruto won't give you over... Sasuke accepts that...

Then gets to work.

It takes time due to the beast that resides in Naruto.

Yet eventually Sasuke emerges victorious, not reacting to the blood on his clothes.

It... was going to happen eventually, wasn't it?

The two were going to fight and kill one another....

After the battle Sasuke snatches you, taking note of your struggling.

You try to fight him, to take advantage of Sasuke's weakened state...

Yet Sasuke manages to get you under control, telling you he's doing what's best for you.

Your talent was wasted at Naruto's side... He plans to train you.

Sasuke thinks this is where you belong... beside him.

After this it would not surprise me if you witnessed Sasuke destroy Konoha, telling you this is for the best.

After all, they're all liars.

It's either that or he tries to make himself Hokage, keeping you by his side to see that plan through.

You can fight him... but again, you'll only tire yourself out.

Sasuke won't hurt... yet he'll hurt others around you.

He plans to isolate you, envious others got to have you for so long.

He's much worse than Naruto.

There's times he experiences grief... yet he's quiet about it.

He's done it, he's won, he has you all to himself now.

He's happy about that... He just wishes Naruto would have listened to him.

You're locked away in a room for just Sasuke to see, he's tired of sharing.

This is yet another bad outcome...

One that not only locks you away... but makes you watch the death of those you care for... just so you can 'understand' Sasuke better.

Ending 3 - Sharing

This is the best outcome... yet still bad for you.

In this ending the outcome resembles canon.

Naruto and Sasuke come to a draw and stop fighting.

The two decide to both share you.

There's no point in fighting over their friend... They both want the same thing for you.

They want to protect you, they want your attention, and they want to help make you stronger.

When their injuries are treated and they're cleaned of blood... The two vow to look after you.

Naruto looks after you as Hokage and Sasuke watches over you from the shadows.

This is a more tame ending, one that's overall happier.

The two both care for you as they're best friends.

Naruto even gives you a job in Konoha, preferably one where he and Sasuke can watch you.

Sasuke often checks in, apologizing and telling you he's maturing.

Naruto likes to hang out with both of you along with Sakura.

Yet there's always that subtle sense of... isolation....

The two still control who you talk to and want your attention exclusively on them.

Konoha is your home... You belong to them.

If you ever want to leave, one of them will stop you.

Ninjas are known to be stealthy.

You're always being watched by someone.

Now that the rivalry has ended... The two are on the same page.

Neither of them die...

Yet your freedom is still restricted like the previous outcomes... and now you just have two problems...

Was this really an improvement?

[great-axepectations]

There's an interesting dichotomy happening on Secret Life. A bunch of players are going solo (willingly, for the first time since season 1) and people on small teams are frequently going out on their own. They can't get a trusted teammate to help with their task. Keeping a secret to themselves can be isolating. It's surprising lonely.

But at the same time, the tasks force players to be social (unless you're BigB, delightful enigma he is). People act sus of course, but it's no secret that everyone has a secret. They're all still friends so far, so they're helping each other. Everyone is just trying to get their tasks done, so you can indulge some silliness- to the point that Jimmy and Lizzie failed their tasks due to everyone being so accommodating!

And I've never seen the whole group get together so frequently. In all the previous seasons, the only times I can think of that brought almost the whole server together were the wither fight in Last Life, the warden on the surface in Double Life, and the Bdubs vs. Skizz grudge match in Limited Life- all with some inherent violence or danger. The trapdoor party in Pearl's house this session was harmless and pointless and hilarious, just everyone being silly together. And every session ends with everyone gathering around the secret keeper to explain their strange actions and mock the failures. It's more of a community than I've seen in any other season.

The secrets were meant to push them away from each other. But I think they're actually bringing them together.

[autisticrosewilson]

It's been bugging me for a while that we have so many canonically queer characters now but none of them ever DO anything! It's like after they get two characters in a queer relationship they just never give them any conflict after. We didn't ask for more representation because we wanted that character to no longer have interesting stories outside of a queer identity we wanted you to stop queer baiting us.

I know that word gets tossed around a lot, but there is very strong evidence for TimKon, StephCass, and GhostBat where they practically confirm it but they never say anything explicitly. Supersons were literally shown to live together, co-parent Lizzie, and were explicitly paralleling other canon couples last week.

But it's too much for Kon AND Tim to be queer, so they gave Tim a civilian boyfriend that he never has any conflict with and all of the build up and tension that comes with trying to clone your dead teammate 99 times and being a hair away from making out for like 8 years.

Robin AND Super boy couldn't be canonically queer so they aged Jon up and then gave him a civilian boyfriend he never has any conflict with all while parading them around in elseworlds because they knew fans were upset about the lost potential.

Even Harley and Ivy fall victim to this in a different way. I love that they're canonically queer! I just wish that at least Ivy got to keep some of her villainy. I don't think they should have to compromise being menaces to society with being queer.

And it's related but I hesitate to call it queer baiting... what's going on with Dick Grayson. He gets confirmed bi in a non canon video game but he has more pride covers than Tim. Like you can't dangle an extremely queer coded character in front of us and then just never make it canon. And I'm tired of one off implications too. We deserve better representation than a one liner played off for a joke (Batstantine this is about you I fear) but they won't because they know full well they won't do a damn thing with him after.

You wanna know what we should be striving for? Midnighter and Apollo. Messy their whole run time, uncompromisingly interesting whether they're together or not, happily married with a daughter, and yet continued to be unerringly bad ass. John Constantine, with all of his shameless flirting and raunchiness. Grace Choi and Anissa Pierce. The pining, the break ups, the make ups. Obsessed with them.

Joey Wilson!!! You want someone whose already canonically queer who Dick has a lot of tension with? He's right there! The son of Dick's arch Nemesis. Both of their willingness to go over people's heads to protect them. Joey's ability to completely take someone's free will (and his deliberate and spiteful choice not to) vs. Dick's constant fight for independence (and his willing surrender to the pull of his family). Dick's unwillingness to communicate his feelings or experiences with literally anyone ever paired with Joey's uncanny ability to read him like a book. Are you joking. The mess, the tension, the INTRIGUE!!

This got away from me but I want my queer characters to be interesting again pretty please.

[siren-nate]

There's something I see overlooked when discussing the different character traits of the Color Gang members. Red is hot-blooded and the first to throw a punch, yes, but after that, he does not give up. Once he puts his mind to something, the guy just won't quit. He's almost pathologically stubborn and determined.

He's the last one to get taken over by the Orb, and he dives right into the ensuing 4v1. This kind of bravery isn't universal to the Color Gang - even Second Coming was paralyzed with fear when the Dark Lord vaporized all four of her friends.

In vs. League of Legends, he's the only one who still wants to try and fight to win the game after the entire group has been decimated by Purple's cheating.

When everyone's trapped in the Parkour loop, Red isn't the first one to get past his designated Brute guard, but he's the only one to get past without drawing a real weapon or using some outside-the-box tactic. He just keeps getting back up and fighting bare-handed until he wins.

This even applies to situations that don't involve fighting; in the Monster School, Red wasn't ready to give up on befriending his teammates even after putting up with their constant bullying. Hell, he's not ready to give up even after they keep bullying him while he's actively helping them.

Both times the Color Gang make their desperate last stand against King, Red is the first one to stand up, ready to keep fighting against impossible odds.

I know this next one is more silly, but he won't even let go of wanting to take a nap in the Nether, something that Yellow explains will kill him.

Despite the obvious dangers, Red can't let go of the idea of putting a Lucky Block in King's staff to see what could be achieved by combining them.

Do I even need to say anything about The Prank?

It takes four of GreenScreen's duplicates to pin him up to the wall, and he's still throwing punches.

When he has a chance to appease GreenScreen and get it to stop being so violent to them, he instead taunts it.

And when all the rest of the Color Gang are finding ways to entertain themselves while trapped by GreenScreen, Red seems to just be going crazy with boredom because there's literally nothing he can do in this situation to fight back.

Red is crazy determined and stubborn. It's both a positive and a negative character trait based on the situation, but I don't ever see anyone talking about it compared to people talking about how he's hot-blooded.

[howi99]

From the nest: Natural born genius vs hard work

Ruby: *being grabbed by her cloak, then slammed down on the ring to finally feel the ice cold touch of Augure on her neck* Urgh...

Glynda: Jaune Arc is declared winner!

Jaune: *sigh, sheathing back his sword* You good?

Ruby: *sitting up, looking ashamed* Yeah...

Jaune: *shake his head* Don't take it personal, Ruby. I'm just more experienced than you, that's all.

Ruby: But it doesn't make sense! I can beat everyone BUT you! And you have lost to both of our teammates but i still can't win! Why?

Jaune: *helping her up* Well, if i have to explain it in lame terms, it's because you are too good for your own good.

Ruby: ... What?

Jaune: *shrug* Like i said, i have far more experience than you. I've been fighting for my life since i was a kid. But you? You're already here, in Beacon, at the age of 15.

Ruby: What does it have to do with me being unable to beat you!? That should even be a point for me!

Jaune: *shake his head* Ruby, when you were in school, how many kids were as good as you?

Ruby: *smirk* I was the best, so nobody was-

Jaune: *cutting her off, poking her forehead* Exactly! *Crossing his arms, a little smile on his face* Meanwhile, i had to train with a girl that was far better than myself and a teacher who didn't know what "going easy" meant. *Sigh* I'm not as strong as Nora or Yang, not as Agile as Blake, Ren or Weiss, and i certainly don't have yours or Pyrrha's talent.

Ruby: *frown* Then what am i lacking!?

Jaune: *shrug* Danger awareness, mostly. *Flick her head* You never hit yourself on a wall before and now, you keep trying the same tactics that work on almost everyone else. *Chuckle* It just happens that my reflexes are fast enough to counter you even when you use your semblance.

Ruby: *rubbing her forehead, grimacing* So, what should i do then?

Jaune: I don't know, you tell me! You are your best teacher, after all. *Pensive* But... If i had to give you a hint, maybe going in melee against me is a bad idea?

Ruby: But bullets are almost useless on you! And i don't have an unlimited amount of ammo!

Jaune: *shrug* Maybe you don't use the right kind of ammunition at the right time? I'm not a teacher after all. *Pat her head, smiling* In any case, it's not as if going against you was easy either. *Chuckle* You do make me use Augure a lot, after all. *Grin, looking towards the other students, speaking a bit louder* Which is not something a lot of our class can do!

Ruby: *wincing at the death stares Jaune was getting from the other students* Maybe you shouldn't trigger them that much.

Jaune: *smirk* Eh, a bit of anger is always needed for some healthy competition. *Chuckle* And if they beat me, that will give them a lot of bragging rights!

[demie90s]

Micd Up & Outta Pocket - Pt.2

Falu'jae X Angel X Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE | PART 1

Summary: UConn vs LSU. The lights are bright, the tension is real-but #17 is focused on two things: Flaujae and Angel Reese. Reader flirts from tip-off like her scholarship depends on it.

Genre:Basketball drama, unhinged locker room comedy, bisexual thirst, rivals-to-flirting-to-suspension energy

Warnings:Heavy flirting, extremely suggestive language, live broadcast exposure, gay panic, Angel + Flau flustered, reader is insane

Word Count ~ 1k

They told me to dress casual for the PR interview. Something soft, polished. Respectable.

So I pulled up in a rhinestone baby tee that barely covered my chest, a pink mini skirt sitting loud on my hips, gold hoops big enough to call home, and lip liner sharp enough to cut a bitch. My gloss was thick. My locs were fresh. My stomach was showing. And my legs were crossed.

I didn’t come here to be soft. I came here to remind everyone why I’m the most talked about name out of UConn this year—and not just because I can shoot from the logo.

The interviewer looked nervous before we even started rolling. She tried to smile and said, “So… your TikTok after the LSU game. Let’s talk about it.” I tilted my head, smirked, and said, “Let’s.” My voice was low and slow, like I was holding back a secret just to watch her squirm.

“You want me to explain the towel or the caption?”

She laughed too quickly. I didn’t. I leaned forward, elbows on knees, and let my gold bangles clink together like punctuation. “Look, I play hard, I flirt harder. That court? Mine. The crowd? Mine. The tension y’all felt during that game? That wasn’t basketball. That was foreplay.”

She blinked. I didn’t wait. “If I post a video in a towel mouthing ‘I wanna kiss you, girl’ and you feel it in your chest? Then yeah. That was for you.” I ran my tongue across my teeth and sat back, lazy, smug. “And if Angel or Flau caught it, good. I don’t play subtle.”

“Some people say it was a message,” she said, glancing at her notes like they’d save her. “Aimed at Angel and Flau’jae?”

I shrugged, smooth. “You ever seen two women that fine on the same team? I had to flirt. I’m not dead.” My legs uncrossed, then crossed the other way—slow, smooth, intentional. “Angel’s too pretty to be missing free throws, but if she needs motivation, I got her. Blew her a kiss, she almost turned to look. Almost.”

“And Flau?”

I smiled. “Flau’s cocky. I like cocky. She got that ‘I run this’ energy. But me? I flirt like I fight—messy, loud, and I don’t stop till someone’s breathless.”

The interviewer was quiet for a second. She looked at me like she wasn’t sure if she was scared or turned on. Probably both.

“Okay…” she said, hesitating. “But was it all just… for show? Part of your ‘persona’?”

I laughed. Full-bodied. Real. “Persona?” I tilted my head and looked into the camera. “Baby, I was sending inappropriate notes to my teammates before puberty hit. I got suspended in eighth grade for writing ‘you fine as hell’ on someone’s locker. There’s no act here. This is me. And if you want wholesome, go interview the bench.”

She tried to move on but I wasn’t done. “You want a headline? Here’s one.” I leaned into the mic like I was about to whisper a secret. “I didn’t post that video to cause drama. I posted it ‘cause I’m thirsty, and I know I’m not the only one.”

“What would you say to them now?” she asked, like she hadn’t already lost control of the room.

I smiled, slow and mean. “To Angel and Flau?” I glanced into the lens and let my eyes drag low like I was imagining both of them. “You looked real good in purple. But I look better in white. You felt that game. You felt me. And if you want more…” I shrugged. “I got time. Locker room’s big enough.”

Her face was red. I sat back, tapped my nails on the chair arm.

“Any regrets?” she asked, desperate to wrap it.

I smirked. “Yeah. I regret not pulling them both into a supply closet when I had the chance. But nationals are coming. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

Camera cut. I blew a kiss at the lens and crossed my legs one more time, just because I knew they’d clip it for TikTok.

Let’s see who folds first.

I didn’t come to socialize. I came to lift.

Charity event, media appearances, a whole damn basketball circus packed into a luxury resort—but none of that mattered once I stepped into the gym. It was cool inside, dim lighting, mirrors on every wall, and just enough bass coming from someone’s playlist to keep me locked in.

I wore loose boy shorts sitting low on my hips, a dark sports bra hugging tight across my chest, and my laces double-knotted because I don’t play when I train. Sweat rolled down my neck, slid between my shoulder blades, soaked the waistband of my shorts. I looked like I gave a damn about one thing: the weight in my hands.

I was mid-set—RDLs, heavy—back tight, form clean, thighs shaking just a little when I caught movement in the mirror. First glance? Just people. Players from all over. Big names. Some men I recognized. Girls I’ve dropped buckets on. But then—

Flau. Angel.

Standing near the entrance, dressed down but still catching light like they were made for it. Flau had on joggers and a tank. Angel in a two-piece set and gold chain. Both of them scanning the room.

They saw me the second I saw them.

But I didn’t break form. I finished the last rep. Controlled. Precise. Dropped the bar like it didn’t weigh more than one of them and rolled my shoulders out slow. I didn’t look again, but I felt them watching.

I moved to the incline bench. Dumbbells this time. Heavy. I slid into place, wiped sweat from my brow, and started my set. Every time I pushed, my arms flexed, core tight, abs out and unapologetic. I knew what I looked like. Focused. Dripping. Dangerous. I didn’t do it for them.

But I wasn’t mad they were here.

Voices moved behind me. I clocked them without turning. One guy on a treadmill slowing down. Two girls whispering by the row machine. Then footsteps. Closer. Softer. Measured.

“You really don’t stop, huh?” Flau’s voice. Smooth, with that amused tilt like she was already smiling.

I finished the rep and sat up, towel over my neck, breathing steady. “And you really followed me into the gym like it’s open season.”

Angel laughed, quiet but sharp. She leaned against the rack, eyes moving down my arms. “You looked focused,” she said. “We didn’t wanna interrupt.”

“But you did,” I said, standing. I stretched my arms behind my head, spine cracking, the fabric of my bra riding just a little higher. “So now that you’re here, what’s the move?”

Flau crossed her arms. “We were just passing through.”

“Mhm.” I stepped closer, not touching, just close enough to smell her perfume under the sweat. “And now you’re watching.”

Angel shifted but didn’t move away. Her eyes were on my stomach, the lines, the gleam, the heat. “You always lift like you tryna impress somebody?”

I smiled, slow and deliberate. “Only when I know I’m being watched.”

Neither of them said anything. But they didn’t leave either.

So I turned around, picked up the bar again, and went back to work.

Let them stare.

The lobby was loud, bodies moving in every direction, athletes and coaches, PR teams and staff, all swirling in this fake luxury chaos. But I wasn’t in it. I was planted on a velvet couch near the windows, hoodie on, oversized shorts hanging off my thighs, slides on, legs spread like I owned the damn floor.

I had headphones in—wasn’t listening to anything. Just didn’t wanna be talked to. My phone was in my hand, but I wasn’t scrolling. I was watching. Watching people pass by, watching eyes linger. Watching how many heads turned before someone had the nerve to approach.

My locs were pulled back, glasses low on my nose, a single chain around my neck. I looked like I hooped and fought on the same day. Casual. Unbothered. Comfortable.

Until I saw her.

Flau. Alone. Dressed in tight jeans and a crop tee, her chain hitting her collarbone with every step. She spotted me across the room—froze for half a second—then walked straight over like she was done playing.

I didn’t move.

She stood in front of me, arms crossed, one brow raised like she expected me to give something up. A reaction. A compliment. A reason.

I let the silence sit. Then I pulled one earbud out, looked her up and down, and said it low and easy—

“Wassup, baby?”

Her mouth twitched like she was about to laugh, but she didn’t. She looked me in the face and said, “You got everybody out here acting like you not the most wanted person in this building.”

I leaned back, smiled lazy. “I know what I look like. They can look.”

Flau stepped closer, eyes sharp now. “But you knew we were here.”

“I did,” I said. “Still didn’t come find you.”

She nodded slow, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek. “You like the attention, huh?”

I bit my bottom lip and dropped my voice. “I like earning it more.”

She didn’t answer. Just stared at me for a beat longer, then sat down—right next to me. Close. Legs almost touching. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, fingers laced like she was waiting for me to fold.

I didn’t. I just looked straight ahead and muttered, “Took you long enough.”

It was late. Most of the resort was asleep or drunk or wrapped up in somebody else’s sheets, but not me. I was in the gym again. Lights half-on, court empty, just the sound of the ball echoing off the hardwood and my sneakers dragging a lazy rhythm. I wasn’t working out—just moving. Letting my body breathe. Hoodie sleeves pushed up, shorts slung low, tank sticking to my back. I liked it quiet. I liked it late.

I didn’t hear the door open, but I felt her presence before I turned around.

Angel Reese. Posted up in the doorway with her arms folded, a black fitted cap low over her eyes and that signature look—like she was already bored with whatever game I thought I was playing. Except she stepped in anyway. She let the door close soft behind her, then walked toward me with those long, calculated strides.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just picked up a ball off the rack, spun it in her hands like she needed an excuse. I watched her from under my lashes, not giving her a full look, not yet.

“Figured I’d find you here,” she finally said.

“Should’ve said hi earlier,” I replied, tossing the ball up for a clean one-handed catch. “Been in the lobby. Been everywhere.”

“You been everywhere except near me.”

I gave her a slow smile, finally facing her head-on. “That on purpose.”

She nodded like she knew it. Like she’d been waiting for me to admit it out loud. “So what’s the deal? You flirt like hell one minute, then vanish the next?”

I shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to see who’d come looking.”

“And did it work?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

That made her pause. Made her eyes narrow and her lips part like she had a comeback but wasn’t sure if she wanted to give it up that easy. She stepped closer. Close enough for me to see the sweat still drying on her neck, the shine in her eyes that always looked like heat even when she was calm. Her voice dropped low.

“You don’t get nervous around me.”

“Should I?”

“No,” she said, almost smiling. “But you do make it real hard to stay away.”

I dribbled once, lazily. “Then stop trying.”

Silence.

She reached for the ball, and I let her take it. Let our fingers brush, just for a second. Her hand lingered on mine a little too long to be innocent. Then she backed up, took a shot from the elbow, missed.

“Damn,” she muttered.

I walked up slow, rebounded it clean, then passed it right back to her chest. “Try again.”

She held the ball and stared at me instead. “Nah. I think you just distracted me.”

“Get used to it.”

She smiled. For real this time. And didn’t shoot again. Just stood there, eyes steady, the weight of everything unsaid filling up the space between us. No crowd. No teammates. No Flau. No cameras. Just her. And me. And that pull we both pretended didn’t exist.

“You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“I’m not here to be easy, Angel.”

I turned to walk off the court, slow and deliberate. She didn’t follow right away, but I knew she would.

They always do.

@draculara-vonvamp @non3ofurbusiness @toorealrai

[oh-no-its-bird]

Having more Uchiha Houhua thoughts:

Ok so I decided his mangekyou, if he ever gets it, looks a bit like the system buffering/loading icon— which absoloutley pisses him off

Its ability is a sort of mishmash of knowing things + some light time fuckery. The light time fuckery was probably its (read: Izumi's) original ability, but it was debuffed + mixed w knowing things as a result of the systems influence.

The "knowing things" bit basically means he gets character screens and summaries from the system (which he does NOT get before getting the mangekyou bc the system is stingy as fuck) but it also means he can see like. Past / present / future events (the "future" events being presented as 'system predicted' so they can't always be trusted) but also like. Being able to see what future or current events would have been in canon, if he hadn't been given Izumi's role

Then he can show these things to others via genjutsu, which makes for some killer genjutsu bc he can straight up send someone to relive their worst most traumatic moments and stand next to them eating popcorn like "woah bro this is totally fucked" as they experience The Horrors on loop

Super OP and ultimately fucking great for information gathering, which is kind of his main thing anyways. I think it fits, especially when the system !! Open to hearing criticism on it tho

And ofc I don't know fr if he's gonna get to unlock it yet, still undecided bc it'd also be pretty hard for him to care ab someone enough (other than probably Jun and eventually Itachi)

Could also be fun if he got to have an interesting dynamic w Inoichi bc of it, like w mind fuckery in mind. He's so useful in T&I, someone teach him some fun mind fuck jutsu's it'll be great

Otherwise uhh:

Also thinking. Yk how I mentioned his ideal endgame is that he'd love to be like, an assistant to the Hokage? Important job! Very little danger (compared to other jobs)! He'll take paperwork over putting his life on the line any day!

So like. When Tsunade comes to the village, Houhua is fucking foaming at the mouth. He wants to be her assistant so bad. He is ab to fist fighting other people in order to be there when she first arrives so he can try to worm his way into her office (and thus avoid being sent out to do shit while remaining important enough to be earning narrative points)

But then Tsunade arrives and she already has Shizune !!! FUCK.

Could be funnier if Shizune fucking senses Houhua's ambitions and also sniffs him out as a little rat man and immediatley assumes the worst. Gets to work on trying to kick his ass out on the curb. Office rivalry !!!

I have like. 2 options for that period where Naruto is off w Jiriyah trying to get Tsunade back, and idk where to take it tbh. Bc either Houhua can go to sound (with or without Sasuke), or he can stick around and do fun politics trying to throw cinder blocks at Danzo's head in the absence of a Hokage.

Houhua is gonna have to interact w Orochimaru eventually is the thing, there's just too much potential there to waste (teammates w Kabuto / literal immortal cultivator in his past life / snake vs rat jokes I need to make at least 10 of, etc.)

Hmmm. Choices, choices