#he is very proud of himself as he should be

[anashins]

Could you write a bf!Jaehyun who made his gf!reader upset & trying to get her attention again by walking around shirtless/being touchy with her but reader ignores him. Days after, reader decides to turn tables and tease him instead, leading to smut?

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: fluff, romance, smut

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Jaehyun doesn't want to apologize, so you make him.

A/N: Hiii, I still have requests sitting around, so since I have time now, I'll get them done. Hope you like it :)

“Here, let me help you.”

“I don’t need help.”

Jaehyun sighed and still squeezed himself past you to reach the upper shelf from where he got the glass of strawberry jam that you wanted for your breakfast. You flinched, but not because you hadn’t expected him to still help you, but because he was shirtless. 

Had you not, only a few minutes ago, seen him leaving the bedroom wearing his hoodie? He was doing it on purpose, you knew it too well by now. And every time though, it worked… dammit. 

You swallowed when you watched his arm stretch out, his defined muscles flexing with the motion. With his gaze fixed on the shelf, you were able to look at him blatantly from the side. If he could have seen you, you would have ignored him - like yesterday and the whole morning already.

You didn’t even know what you were fighting about anymore, but the point was that you expected an apology from him and he hadn’t given you one yet, claiming it wasn’t his fault and that you should apologize - the audacity?!

Just remembering this made you snap back to reality and you stopped drooling over your boyfriend’s hot body altogether again. You were together for quite a time already, you knew what his naked body was capable of, taking a few days off to let him think about what he had done wrong wouldn’t hurt you.

So when Jaehyun turned back to you, you were wearing your moody expression from before, which took him quite by surprise, you saw it written all over his face. You snatched the marmalade glass out of his hand and quickly left the kitchen.

That was a close call, you remembered thinking.

But throughout the entire day, you caught Jaehyun passing by you a little too close, wearing a bit too much aftershave, having his hair a bit too tousled and his pants hanging a bit too low… but each time, you were proud to say that were very good at resisting these temptations…

… though it took you all you’ve got to not jump on him nonetheless.

____

It had been two days since your fight and you finally had enough.

If Jaehyun didn’t want to apologize, then you would make him.

“Can you help me?”

Jaehyun entered the bedroom in a swift second. Perhaps, since you initiated this conversation, he was  hoping to finally make up with you again. Of course, you wanted that too by now, but it wasn’t going to be so easy for him.

“What is-”

The words got stuck in his throat when he spotted you, and he needed a moment to process the sight of you wearing a light, revealing negligee that only ended shortly beneath your bum. The fact that you weren’t wearing something underneath didn’t need to be spoken out, because it was Jaehyun’s favorite.

“What are you doing?” he asked carefully.

“I need help changing the sheets. Here.”

You threw a sweet, partially wicked smile at him while simultaneously handing the sheet over to him, and then shifted around - but not without shaking your bum a bit too obviously and throwing your hair over your shoulder a bit too enthusiastically. 

Jaehyun dropped the sheets almost immediately and had you in his grip within an instant, embracing you tightly from behind with one hand beneath your breasts and the other between your thighs, squeezing into the flesh. It hadn’t taken much effort or time, you had known it would work. After all, it worked all the time. 

You suppressed a giggle and stiffened your body in resistance while he sank his mouth in the side of your neck and started nibbling on the skin.

“I’m still mad,” you complained.

“I don’t care.”

Skillfully, he pulled away, then turned you in his grip so that a moment later, you were pressed into his chest and both his hands were grabbing your ass cheeks now, massaging them thoroughly. You cursed under your breath, he knew very well that you loved this too much, and you were asking yourself who was playing with who now and whether this had been his plan all along.

You weren’t able to say a word anymore though. Forgotten was the fact that you were still mad at him when shortly later, Jaehyun was lying underneath you on the mattress and stripped of all his clothes. With your finger tips, you traced along the lines of his abs while you simultaneously felt his length trying to pave its way past your thighs and into you. But you wouldn’t let him yet.

“Apologize,” you demanded, pressing his upper back down when he tried to brace his elbows against the mattress. 

“What?”

It took you much self-control with him twitching right at your entrance, but your ego was stronger than your desire. Or that was what you thought. “Apologize now. Otherwise I won’t continue.”

Saliva had collected in your mouth, and you swallowed it all down. Admittedly, this was the hardest position you had ever been in, because the desire your head and your core expressed at the same time couldn’t be more far off from each other and not align. You didn’t know who to listen to at his point, and Jaehyun’s turned on gaze didn’t help at all.

Suddenly, he chuckled. He stretched out his hand to caress your hidden nipple under the thin fabric of the lingerie and a deep sigh escaped your lips. “But we’re already there, didn’t you notice?”

Somewhere, between your thoughts and sighs, he had slipped all the way in already, and considering how wet you had already gotten from all the teasing and foreplay, it had been so very easy for him to do so. You arched your back when Jaehyun bucked his hips up, penetrating you deep inside.

“You like it? I can see that you like it.”

“No!” you lied, and he grinned even wider. 

The way your head lolled back and your thighs clenched around his groin to control the angle he was pushing into you, let him know that indeed, you were enjoying this very much. You always enjoyed whenever he did that. Only for a few moments, you let that happen. 

You then heaved up your hips and came down to him, matching his rhythm and now making him moan in return. It grew pleasantly wet where your bodies were connected, adding to the sensation so that not much later, you were feeling every fiber in your body tugging on a nearing orgasm.

But you wouldn’t lose, not when you were this close, and reading Jaehyun’s expression, he was even closer. Suddenly, you halted. But as to not let all the work go to vain, you settled on his hips and just slowly slid yours back and forth, creating only enough friction to keep you both on your nearing orgasms.

“Say… it,” you repeated, your breathing coming in hitches, “apo… logize.”

“Are you being for real right now?” Shock mixed with realization on Jaehyun’s face when it dawned on him that there was probably no way for you to let him release otherwise.

“Yes.”

To prove to him how serious you were, you lifted up your hip and came slamming down on him, making him gasp the moment your bodies crashed together. And then again, and again, pushing him closer to his release… and then stopped.

Jaehyun looked at you through fluttered lids, eyes heavy and lips dry. But he didn’t say a word. Fine. You bent forward and pressed your palms against his abs, angling your spine. Then again, you heaved up your hip, this time a bit higher, and as he feared you might let him out all the way, you slowly sank down on him again. Jaehyun hated this, and you knew. He draped his forearm over his face and cursed,

“Shitshitshitshitshitshit”,

but you didn’t stop. Only when you felt the onset of his pulsing motions from within, then you rested on top of him again. Even though it was hard for you too, you could keep this going.

“FINE!”

You widened your eyes, almost not believing what you had just heard. But you had no time to rise all the way up and watch him say it to your face as Jaehyun suddenly pulled you down to lie on top of his chest with his arms wrapped around your back, and whispered into your ear,

“I’m so sorry.”

“Very well.”

Only using your hips now, you remained in this position and picked up your movements without a break. You heard Jaehyun whimpering into your ear, begging for you to go faster until his grip around you got so tight, your breath nearly caught.

“I’m cumming,” he said after not too long and eventually did so in long spurts inside of you.

When he had made you cum too, all over his hands with your teasing lingerie all gone so that he was able to use his hands exploring and triggering all sensitive spots on your body, you were lying side by side on the bed, out of breath, but thoroughly happy.

“Please,” Jaehyun then said, “let’s never argue for this long again.”

“Hm. I don’t know. I think it has quite the benefits.”

Then, you both laughed.

[seitmai]

“Mrs. Rogers, you and Steve had to cancel the traditional honeymoon, has it put a strain on your marriage, and will you be taking a honeymoon any time soon?” “Oh, Ben, are you saying this isn’t a honeymoon? I thought all newlyweds took a five-month long zig-zagging trek all across America to kick off their marriage!”

Perfect answer 👌🏻

You nod, trying to ignore the small flutter in your stomach at the mention of Steve's name. It's ridiculous, you tell yourself. You're married to the man, for goodness sake. And you both know it’s a marriage for the stability of this campaign and the future presidency.

Don't ignore the flutter!! Even if you are already married!

As if sensing your presence, Steve looks up, his eyes meeting yours across the room. His face softens slightly, and he excuses himself from the conversation, making his way over to you.

🥰🥰🥰

"You've got this, Steve," you say softly, placing a hand on his arm. The gesture feels both natural and strange - you're still navigating the boundaries of your unique relationship. "Just remember why you're doing this. Speak from the heart, like you always do."Steve's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see a flash of vulnerability there. "Thank you," he says, his voice low.

She just saw right through him and knew exactly what he needed to hear 😌

"We could also leverage social media more effectively," you continue, warming to your topic. "Not just posting sound bites, but creating engaging content that breaks down complex issues in accessible ways. Maybe even collaborate with some respected influencers who align with our values." Steve leans back in his chair, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I like it. What else?”

I just know he look at her so proud 🤭

“What a surprise! The anit-social, bionic man with a staring problem doesn’t like the idea of pal-ing around with the new Mrs. Rogers! Man, I know you only recently started to like me, but can you get on board with her.” “Who says I like you?” he counters. “Ha ha,” Sam retorts dryly. “You should be so lucky that next time we put you up for president so we could canvas the country for a girl who could put up with you and all your bullshit.”

Hahaha Bucky and Sam are not letting a single chance pass to spat with each other 😂

“You don’t even know, do you?” Sam presses him, his tone incredulous. You hold your breath, straining to hear Steve's response. There's a long pause before he speaks. "It's not that simple, Sam," Steve says, his voice low and weary. "This whole situation... it's complicated." "Complicated how?" Sam presses. "She's smart, she's kind, she's dedicated to the cause. And let's be real, she's not hard on the eyes either. What's holding you back?"

Sam is just the biggest hype man and not only has Steve's back, but hers too

"No," Steve says quickly. "Not fake. Just... I don't know. Forced. This whole situation - it's not the same as the tour for war bonds back in ‘43, but it’s still a production. I never imagined being in a situation like this again." "None of us imagined this, Steve," Bucky chimes in, his tone softer than before.

Bucky is very right 🤷🏻‍♀️

"And she's here now, too,” Sam circles back to you, “and she's trying. You can't keep pushing her away." "I know," Steve says, his voice tinged with frustration. "I see it. She's incredible out there. The way she connects with people, the way she articulates our message, she’s all in and she's a natural." "So what's the problem?" Sam presses. "If I let her in and this doesn't work out..." "You mean the campaign?" Sam asks. "No," Steve says.

Steve is overthinking it, but i feel like that just shows how much he cares 🥺

Another silence falls between you, but it feels almost companionable, and the two of you enjoy your breakfast. Usually people try to fill any potentially silent moment around you these days, and so the reprieve itself is nice, but it doesn’t last long.

If you can enjoy some peace and quiet together that can be more meaningful that always having to have something going on ☝🏻

Red, White & True: Las Vegas & Cleveland (2/?)

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes Word Count: 4k Summary: Three months has raced by since you agreed to join the campaign team of Rogers for America as Steve runs for President of the United States of America. You've settled in and are starting to hit your stride campaigning, but what the state of affairs for your marriage?

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[SEPTEMBER 2 - Las Vegas, Nevada]

“Mrs. Rogers!” “Mrs. Rogers!”

You exchange a brief look with your assistant Sophia. She nods to wordlessly confirm that you have a few moments and should engage with the press. Taking a deep breath, you turn and approach the bank of reporters waiting and eager to regale you with questions.

There are a few familiar faces who’ve been consistently covering the Rogers for America campaign, some of them even assigned specifically to report on you - mostly friends, but some that could be categorized in the foe column.

“Mrs. Rogers, you and your husband are in the same city for the first time in eighteen days.” This is one of the faces you aren’t familiar with in the gaggle of press. “Are you looking forward to being reunited as you support him in the first presidential debate tonight?”

Eighteen days… You hadn’t realized it had been that long, but you’ve become a trained professional when appearing in public now, and you don’t let your face betray any shock or unease.

“Yes, we’re eager to spend time together.” Consummate professional that you’ve become, you do play into showing a little bit of surprise. “Has it been eighteen days? Who’s been tracking this? Clearly we need you on our campaign team!”

It garners some good-natured laughs from the group.

“Mrs. Rogers, you and Steve had to cancel the traditional honeymoon, has it put a strain on your marriage, and will you be taking a honeymoon any time soon?”

“Oh, Ben, are you saying this isn’t a honeymoon? I thought all newlyweds took a five-month long zig-zagging trek all across America to kick off their marriage!”

A few more laughs.

“Steve is serious about this campaign, and we both knew the sacrifices we would be making along the way. Our time together is very limited, but I can tell you, without question, that Steve will be as dedicated to his roles and responsibilities as President as you have seen him be to this campaign. One thing we speak about frequently when we do have time together are the incredible people we’re meeting as we travel from state to state and get to talk with you, see what your life looks like in each new place.” This is true. It’s become one of the unspoken safe topics you can bring up at the drop of a hat with each other. “We’re getting the opportunity to experience first-hand that although we’re all so different, there’s so much that unites us as Americans, shoulder to shoulder, regardless of the part of the country we live in.”

“Thank you, everyone,” Sophia steps up and cuts in. “I’m sure we’ll see you all tonight at the debate. A reminder that the Rogers for America campaign will hold a brief press conference ten minutes after the debate concludes. For now, you have to let me get Mrs. Rogers in the car and on the way to the university or we’re not going to beat traffic - and neither will any of you.”

Then Sophia ushers you away, and you slip into the vehicle waiting for you both.

“Good answers,” she says, as the driver pulls away. “You’re really becoming comfortable fielding their questions and directing their energy where we want to see it go.”

You smile at Sophia's praise. She’s genuine but very no-nonsense, so she doesn’t throw out compliments to placate you or anyone else. It’s one of the reasons you promoted her to your assistant. "Thanks. I do feel like I'm starting to get the hang of it. Though I have to admit, I was a bit thrown by that '18 days' comment."

Sophia nods sympathetically. "I know. It's been a whirlwind, but you're doing great. The public loves you, and your approval ratings are holding steady."

You lean back in your seat, letting out a small sigh. "Approval ratings. Sometimes I still can't believe this is my life now."

As the car weaves through traffic, your mind drifts back to the past few months. The whirlwind wedding, the campaign launch, the endless string of rallies, interviews, and public appearances. You've barely had a moment to catch your breath, let alone get to know your husband.

Steve. Your husband.

In name and public persona only, it seems. The campaign trails that are being charted and continually adjusted for you, Steve, the VP nominee, and his wife, have all four of you covering as much ground as possible, and there’s rarely any overlap, but it does seem like you’re rarely with the Mr. to your Mrs. It makes things simultaneously more and less complicated. More complicated because the lack of time together means it’s more awkward that you’re still basically acquaintances but have to look the part of happy newlyweds. Less complicated because at least you’re not messing with any deep or complex feelings.

"Mrs. Rogers?" Sophia's voice pulls you from your thoughts. "We're almost there. Are you ready?"

You straighten up, smoothing down the front of your outfit. "As ready as I'm going to be. What's on the agenda before the debate?"

Sophia consults her tablet. "You have a meet and greet with the VP and a group of the local campaign volunteers. Steve should be arriving about forty-five minutes before the debate starts. Twenty minutes before the debate, you all have a brief prep session with the communications team - updates on the developments over the day and reviewing the message for tonight."

You nod, trying to ignore the small flutter in your stomach at the mention of Steve's name. It's ridiculous, you tell yourself. You're married to the man, for goodness sake. And you both know it’s a marriage for the stability of this campaign and the future presidency.

The car pulls up to the Thomas & Mack Center at the University of Nevada, and you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the chaos that awaits. As you step out, you're immediately greeted by flashing cameras and shouts from the crowd. You smile and wave, but don't stop to answer any questions as you make your way inside, following someone from the debate logistics team to get to the staging and holding area.

Backstage is a flurry of activity. Campaign staffers rush back and forth, last-minute preparations are being made, and there's an electric tension in the air. Your eyes scan the room, looking for one person in particular.

And then you see him. Steve is standing off to the side, deep in conversation with one of the communications strategists. Even after all these months, the sight of him still takes your breath away. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and undeniably handsome in his perfectly tailored navy suit. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he listens intently to the woman in front of him.

As if sensing your presence, Steve looks up, his eyes meeting yours across the room. His face softens slightly, and he excuses himself from the conversation, making his way over to you.

"Hey," he says softly as he approaches, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. It's for show, you know, it’s important that even your own campaign staff thinks this marriage is more than surface level, and you stifle the small thrill that runs through you at the gesture. It’s only a gesture.

"Hi," you reply, managing to offer up an encouraging smile. "How are you feeling? Ready for tonight?"

Steve nods, his expression determined. "As ready as I'll ever be. We still have a long weeks ahead, but I think we're in a good position - and that’s what they keep saying across the team at this point."

You nod, studying his face. Despite his confident words, you can see the tension in his jaw, the slight crease between his brows. You've learned to read these subtle signs over the past few months, even with your limited time together.

"You've got this, Steve," you say softly, placing a hand on his arm. The gesture feels both natural and strange - you're still navigating the boundaries of your unique relationship. "Just remember why you're doing this. Speak from the heart, like you always do."

Steve's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see a flash of vulnerability there. "Thank you," he says, his voice low. "I -”

But before he can say the rest of what he was going to, Sophia approaches, tablet in hand. "Mrs. Rogers, we need to go to the reception with the volunteers from the local campaign team."

[SEPTEMBER 7 - Cleveland, Ohio]

The campaign strategy meeting is in full swing, the air thick with tension and the buzz of caffeine-fueled ideas. You're seated at a long table in a nondescript hotel conference room, surrounded by a sea of laptops, notepads, and half-empty coffee cups. The walls are covered with maps, poll numbers, and hastily scribbled strategies.

Steve sits at the head of the table, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listens to the latest polling data. You're positioned a few seats away, close enough to appear united, but not his most trusted. Sam, Bucky, the VP nominee Young and his assistant, the campaign press secretary, the communications director, all sit closer to or directly across from Steve, at the heart of the table. But you are closer than the finance director, legal advisor, speech writers, and the policy directors.

You're seated next Sam on your left with Sophia on your right, taking notes and pulling up memos on her laptop.

Steve is leaning forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listens to the campaign manager, Jake Thompson, deliver his latest assessment.

Jake, a seasoned political operative with salt-and-pepper hair and a no-nonsense attitude, stands at the head of the table, remote control in hand as he flips through a report on polling and focus groups that have been conducted over the past two weeks with Gen Z in urban, suburban, and rural pockets of the country.

"As you can see," Jake says, his voice carrying a mix of concern and determination, "this is where we’re making progress. Enough of them are tired of the rhetoric that’s been recycled all their lives, problems that never seem to be resolved because they’re too useful as campaign issues. That’s why an independent candidate is beginning to look a lot more appealing.”

Jake clicks to the next slide, which shows a breakdown of key issues that resonated most with young voters. "Climate change, affordable education, and social justice are their top priorities. They appreciate your strong stance on these issues, Steve, but they're still skeptical about whether you can actually deliver real change."

Steve nods, his expression thoughtful. "So how do we bridge that gap? How do we convince them that we're not just another set of empty promises?"

You lean forward slightly, your mind racing with ideas. This is an area where you feel you can contribute significantly, given your background in non-profit work and your ability to connect with younger generations.

"If I may," you begin, and all eyes turn to you. You feel a flutter of nervousness but push through it. "I think we need to focus on concrete, actionable plans. Not just broad strokes, but specific steps we'll take in the first 100 days. I think it would speak to Millennials as well.”

Jake nods appreciatively at your suggestion. "Mrs. Rogers, did you hack into my laptop sometime in the last 24 hours?” He’s not smiling - he never outright smiles - but he has a proud glint in his eyes as he looks at you. “What you’re suggesting is exactly in line with what I wanted to bring to the table today. We need to show them we're not just talking the talk, we’re ready to his the ground running when they put us in the White House."

Steve nods, his eyes meeting yours with interest. "Go on," he encourages.

You take a deep breath, feeling more confident. "We should consider hosting a series of town halls specifically targeting young voters. Not just to talk at them, but to listen. Let them voice their concerns directly and then demonstrate how our policies address those issues. We could even live-stream these events, make them interactive."

Jake looks intrigued. "That should work. It plays into our strengths - Steve's authenticity and your ability to connect with younger demographics."

"We could also leverage social media more effectively," you continue, warming to your topic. "Not just posting sound bites, but creating engaging content that breaks down complex issues in accessible ways. Maybe even collaborate with some respected influencers who align with our values."

Steve leans back in his chair, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I like it. What else?”

Elsa, communications director jumps in, "These are excellent strategies we can absolutely put into play, but we're still facing challenges with this demographic. Many of them feel disconnected from the political process entirely. They see you, Steve, as part of an older generation that doesn't understand their issues."

You watch Steve's reaction carefully. His jaw tightens slightly, but he nods, absorbing the information.

"What do you suggest?" Steve asks, his voice calm but tinged with frustration.

Elsa hesitates for a moment before responding. "We need to make you more relatable to younger voters. Show them that despite your... unique background, you understand and care about the issues that matter to them."

"And how do we do that?" Steve presses.

Jake glances your way before answering. "We think Mrs. Rogers could play a key role here."

You straighten in your seat, suddenly very alert. "Me?" you ask, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Yes,” he confirms. “We have a problem and an opportunity that’s developing. That 18 days comment last week heated things up again with the public perception and scrutiny of your marriage. You handled it exactly as you should have, Mrs. Rogers,” he assures you, “that’s not our concern. But now that someone has brought up numbers for days apart, it’s becoming part of the narrative, and we already had to tame concerns over your sudden nuptials, we don’t want the state of your marriage to be the focus again.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that Steve isn’t thrilled about this either.

“But the opportunity here,” Elsa jumps back in, “is that we can put that to rest and capitalize on what we’re beginning to see as the Mrs. Rogers effect on the campaign trail. Her approval ratings were never bad, but they keep climbing. The public still wonders if Steve is a politician, if he’s ready to be the next President, but they already see a politician’s wife in you, Mrs. Rogers.”

You feel a mix of pride and unease at Elsa's words. On one hand, it's gratifying to know your efforts are making a positive impact. On the other, you can't help but feel like you're being used as a prop.

Even though that is what you are at the most elementary level.

"What exactly are you proposing?" Steve asks, his tone careful but with an edge to it.

Jake leans forward, his expression earnest. "We want to increase the number of joint appearances you two make. Show the public that you're a united front, a team. Town halls, rallies, even some more casual, candid moments. Show the public that you're a team, that you support each other. It'll help soften Steve's image and make him more relatable to younger voters."

You glance at Steve, trying to gauge his reaction. His face is impassive, but there is a slight tension in his jaw.

You can see Steve is uncomfortable with the idea, but he's considering it carefully. You decide to speak up.

"I appreciate the strategy, but I have some concerns," you say. "We don't want to come across as inauthentic or like we're using our relationship as a political tool. That could backfire, especially with younger voters who are already skeptical of politicians and doing things for clout."

Jake nods, "You're right to be cautious. We're not suggesting anything overly staged or fake. Just more opportunities for the public to see you two together, interacting naturally."

Steve finally speaks up. "I agree with my wife," he says, and you feel a small, unexpected thrill at hearing him refer to you that way, even though you know it's just part of this gig. "We need to be careful about how we approach this. I don't want to exploit our relationship. But let’s make it work."

Jake wraps up the meeting quickly at that point, instructing his staff to update each candidate’s logistics team over the updated schedule that will play to the ‘Rogers & Rogers Strategy,’ and putting the policy advisors and communications team to work on implementing your suggestions into the direction they were going to propose. As every minute of the campaign season is instrumental, nearly everyone clears out of the room at that point.

You’re at the elevator in the lobby when you realize you left your jacket in the hotel conference room. Sophia says they can have an aide bring it up to your room, but you insist you’d like to stretch your legs a little more before heading up to sleep. As you head back down the hall, you’re relieved to see the door is still open, and you pick up your step. But then you come to an abrupt halt when you hear voices and your name drifts out into the hallway in a conversation between Steve, Sam, and Bucky.

“I don’t like it.”

“What a surprise! The anit-social, bionic man with a staring problem doesn’t like the idea of pal-ing around with the new Mrs. Rogers! Man, I know you only recently started to like me, but can you get on board with her.”

“Who says I like you?” he counters.

“Ha ha,” Sam retorts dryly. “You should be so lucky that next time we put you up for president so we could canvas the country for a girl who could put up with you and all your bullshit.”

Steve chuckles - something you realize you’ve rarely heard him do.

“But it’s you I’m surprised by, Steve,” Sam continues. “Why are you still holding this girl at arms’ length?”

Steve heaves a heavy sigh, and you can just imagine him putting his hands on his hips.

“You don’t even know, do you?” Sam presses him, his tone incredulous.

You hold your breath, straining to hear Steve's response. There's a long pause before he speaks.

"It's not that simple, Sam," Steve says, his voice low and weary. "This whole situation... it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" Sam presses. "She's smart, she's kind, she's dedicated to the cause. And let's be real, she's not hard on the eyes either. What's holding you back?"

You feel your cheeks flush at Sam's words, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity coursing through you.

"It's not about her," Steve says firmly. "She's... she's great. Better than I could have hoped for, honestly. But this whole arrangement, it just feels..."

"Fake?" Bucky offers, his voice gruff.

"No," Steve says quickly. "Not fake. Just... I don't know. Forced. This whole situation - it's not the same as the tour for war bonds back in ‘43, but it’s still a production. I never imagined being in a situation like this again."

"None of us imagined this, Steve," Bucky chimes in, his tone softer than before.

Steve sighs again. “And I know it’s another thing I’ve chosen that neither of you signed up for, and I appreciate you being here by my side.”

"And she's here now, too,” Sam circles back to you, “and she's trying. You can't keep pushing her away."

"I'm not pushing her away," Steve protests, but it sounds weak even to your ears.

"Really?" Sam challenges. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're doing enough to conveniently keep your distance. She's your wife, Steve. On paper, sure, but she's also becoming a real partner in this campaign. You've seen how she handles herself out there."

You lean against the wall, your heart racing as you listen to the conversation. You know you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but you can't bring yourself to walk away, not when - even if you’re not involved - someone is finally talking about the state of your marriage.

"I know," Steve says, his voice tinged with frustration. "I see it. She's incredible out there. The way she connects with people, the way she articulates our message, she’s all in and she's a natural."

"So what's the problem?" Sam presses.

"If I let her in and this doesn't work out..."

"You mean the campaign?" Sam asks.

"No," Steve says.

And then - because of course it’s that exact moment - a door just a bit further down the opens, and you have to pretend you were not just standing in the hallway eavesdropping on anyone, and you abandon jacket retrieval and pretend you were on your way to the hotel bar to catch a quick nightcap with some of the staffers.

[SEPTEMBER 8 - Airspace over Ohio]

The next morning, it’s wheels up at 7am for the presidential candidate campaign plane, and you’re on it. You’re being sent with Steve to Wisconsin.

As the plane climbs to cruising altitude, you stifle a yawn and make your way to the "war room" - a section of the campaign plane that serves as a mobile strategy center and occasional dining area. The smell of coffee and pastries wafts through the air, a tempting lure after the early morning rush.

Sophia’s intern had already supplied you with your go-to morning drink, but you grab a plate and fill it with some fruit, cheese, bacon, and a surprisingly and delightfully warm croissant. The plane's engines hum steadily as you settle into one of the seats at the table. The early morning sunlight streams through the small windows, casting a warm glow over the polished wood table. You've barely slept, your mind still reeling from the conversation you overheard last night.

You pull out your tablet, intending to review the day's revised schedule, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Steve's words. The weight of them sits heavy in your chest, a mix of disappointment and something else you can't quite name.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice someone approaching until they clear their throat. You look up, expecting to see Sophia or maybe one of the campaign staffers. Instead, you find yourself faced with Bucky Barnes.

"Morning," he says, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. "Mind if I join you?"

You blink, momentarily thrown off balance. In all the months of campaigning, you've barely exchanged more than a few pleasantries.

"Of course," you say, gesturing to the seat across from you.

Bucky nods and takes a seat, setting down his own plate of food. There's an awkward silence as he settles in, and you can't help but study him. His hair is short again - the style he’d adopted when he was pardoned not long after the Snap. He's dressed casually in jeans and a dark henley. Despite his relaxed appearance, there's an undeniable intensity about him, a coiled energy that seems barely contained.

"So," Bucky says, breaking the silence. "Wisconsin."

You nod, grateful for the opening. "Yes, big day ahead. Are you joining us for the rally?"

Bucky shakes his head. "I’ll be backstage, but no."

Another silence falls between you, but it feels almost companionable, and the two of you enjoy your breakfast. Usually people try to fill any potentially silent moment around you these days, and so the reprieve itself is nice, but it doesn’t last long. Soon you’re joined by some of the staff - some seeking breakfast, some looking for you or for Bucky. And so the next wave of action for the day begins.

next part: HOUSTON

I KNOW! WE JUMPED FROM THE DAY BEFORE THE WEDDING TO THE BEGINNING OF SEPTEMBER! But that's by design.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[rin-solo]

This came to me earlier, and now I am utterly obsessed: The Vengeance wasn't Odysseus stabbing Poseidon, it was Odysseus disproving Poseidon's "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" belief right in front of his very eyes. With him as the subject, even.

Think about it—the fact that Poseidon remained ruthless and insisted on punishing Odysseus was the only reason he got stabbed repeatedly. If Poseidon had been merciful, if he had accepted Odysseus' offer of forgiveness, he would've been fine. His own ruthlessness backfired so hard on him this time that I am sincerely hoping it haunts him forever.

I am actually utterly obsessed with Poseidon thinking back to Odysseus "Maybe you could learn to forgive?" on a daily, no an hourly basis. I cannot and will not lie to you that is unironically my favorite moment in the whole Vengeance saga just because of what it says about both the characters—about Odysseus for offering and Poseidon for declining. And this makes me love it even more.

Poseidon was going to decline, we all know that. I don't think anyone watching—even Odysseus, probably—expected him to accept. But then I'm picturing him lying there, bleeding into the stone, and, against his will, wondering whether maybe he should have. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be in pain. Maybe if he had not killed Odysseus' fleet ten years ago, he wouldn't be in pain either. Maybe this one time ruthlessness wasn't mercy upon himself—maybe this time, his one grand belief was wrong. Maybe ... it was always wrong.

Obviously, he would never admit to these thoughts, he would slap himself for having them one second later. But I simply need this self-proclaimed god of ruthlessness to be utterly haunted by that and question whether he made the right choice or no—whether he's even lived by the correct philosophy all his immortal life—and no matter what, be too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

He's trying to pretend like nothing changed, but the thoughts still remain. They pester him. They won't leave him alone. Especially every time someone—anyone—is kind to him for whatever reason, they come crashing back into him and they won't leave.

"What if my own ruthlessness hurt me that time?"

"What if ruthlessness isn't mercy upon ourselves after all?"

"What if I'm wrong?"

"What if I have always been wrong?"

The most dreadful thoughts imaginable to a god as proud and stubborn and old as Poseidon, but they're there now and he can't do anything about them. You all don't understand how much I NEED this god to jolt up in his bed at 3 am after having a dream or nightmare about something related to one of his many ruthless deeds (maybe even sinking Odysseus' fleet) and go "BUT WHAT IF I HAD LEARNED TO FORGIVE?? WHAT IF I STILL COULD??" only to immediately slap himself for it because that's absolutely ridiculous.

He is left to watch this belief shatter before his very eyes as he's clinging to the remains of it desperately, trying to keep it all from crumbling. Not because he genuinely believes he's right anymore, but because he simply cannot imagine ... does not know how to live by any other philosophy.

No matter whether it's objectively correct or not, it's the very thing that defines him. The thing he's known for. He has built his entire image around this, he cannot give it up no matter what ... at least not quickly or without help.

But as much he would seek to deny it, his core belief has now been proven wrong; he has actually lived through an instance where it was wrong, and he can do nothing to erase those memories or conclusions from his mind no matter how much he yearns to go back to simpler times.

And that was the real Vengeance, guys—possibly the biggest, most painful existential crisis of Poseidon's immortal life. I rest my case.

Although before I disappear back into the void I simply must give a shout out to @o3o-lapd-o3o (this came to me during a conversation in one of their comment sections for the glorious Friends In Higher Places AU, which is quite possibly my favorite piece of EPIC fan content that exists ...)

[niceonejames7]

fighting dogs & crying wolves

remus thinks you're oblivious to his condition despite your bias towards wolves. maybe you love wolves a bit more than he thinks.

part two for dogs or deers? or rats? (both can be read as standalones) (some parts may feel weird, though not anything major)

words: 1.9k

genre: fluff(?), lil bit angst, hurt/comfort, it's all happy ending

warnings: remus has self depreciating thoughts, mention of injuries

a/n: i imagine the end scene (these 1 , 2) very similar to the peter and gwen scene when he's in her bed injured because I'm kinda obsessed

...

Remus was tired today. The moon would greet him soon, their monthly encounter on the way. He has taken a habit of personifying his tormentor. To see the moon as just the moon seemed to torture him more. Your hands were on his face more than he could count. That's how it always is. He had learned quickly enough that you loved through your touches, through your actions. He finds it funny when you worry that they (the boys) don't know how much you love them, it's a silly question anyway, but it pains him to understand how much you love him. This time he doesn't have to personify his torment. 

The lights are harsh on his pages and he looks up to search for the switch, James knows his cue and gets up to change them. Remus smiles and James feels proud, it's a silly thing. 

You're sleeping, well you're trying to sleep, your head on a pillow that's laid over his legs. He had asked you to sleep on his lap, "I don't want to interrupt your reading." you had reasoned. 

Sirius opens the door rather loudly but settles down when he senses the quiet environment, his eyes darting to your sleeping figure.

He grimaces, "Sorry," a loud whisper, which only elicited an amused smile on your face.

Sirius wouldn't dare wake you up, but if he has already done half the damage, he is not giving up the chance of a cuddle.

He slowly climbs on the bed, pushes his head between the space of Remus' and his book and steals a kiss. 

Sirius smiles against his lips and Remus thinks of the moon again. He had been trying to do less of that lately, to cover his moments of happiness with a blanket of moonlight. Poetic, he thinks.

Sirius makes himself comfortable, his hands wrapped around your waist, impatient for you to be near him. You don't open your eyes to see who it is, it's very clear which one your boyfriends it will be.

He buries his face at the crook of your neck and you complain,

"Clingy."

Sirius whines and nuzzles further into his space before extracting himself to confront you,

"No."

You open one of your eyes, a teasing smile on your lips and of course he plants a kiss, how could he not, you looked so lovely in his arms. 

"You know what, why don't you tell me what your favourite animal is. I should know who I'm competing with."

Your eyes are closed again, but the smile on your lips is permanent.

"It's not a dog." you say in a matter-of-factly tone. Sirius rolls his eyes, "What is it then? A cat ?" James says, dramatising his tone when he says the word cat, like it could cause a scandal.

You sigh heavily and cast a mock remorseful look at Sirius, "No matter how many dog themed trinkets you bring me, it won't change my opinion. I'm sorry, okay?"

"And also, no, it isn't a cat. Though I do like them a lot." You truly ponder for a moment about what your favourite animal could be, but your mind comes up blank.

"I don't know honestly, I've never been much of an animal person."

Somehow, that statement feels too personal to Remus. It's silly, he thinks.

Sirius thinks of something, possibly something that Remus wouldn't like.

"What about wolves?"

A fraction of a second passes and a million things cross Remus' mind. He thinks how he's going to kill Sirius, he thinks how tired he is, he thinks how you're going to leave him now, and by proxy James and Sirius too. Because he unfortunately knew they would stick by his side. He thinks how much pain he will cause, just because he's this creature.

"I like wolves. Actually, I really like wolves. Did you know dogs and wolves belong in the same family? They're both canines."

Sirius' smile is too wide, he thinks. He suppresses it a little, enjoying your little ramble.

"I'm aware, darling." he says, his fingers slowly caressing Remus' thighs, a futile comforting gesture. Nothing could calm the erratic beating of his heart. 

"Maybe we can bond over that. We both like wolves, in our own way, and you can forgive me for not liking dogs."

Sirius wanted to take your face and pepper you with kisses. He wanted to laugh at how what you just said is probably true. You both do love a wolf, that is something you two bond over. 

"Do you remember learning about werewolves?" James speaks up after calming himself down for Remus' sake.

"Yeah, pretty cool stuff." You say casually, as much nonchalance as you can muster.

Remus holds back a scoff, "Cool? How is it cool?" 

"I dunno. Seems pretty cool. I'd like to know how it's like" you take a pause, your hands gesturing to explain, a pathetic attempt to calm your nerves, "how it's like to turn into an animal, or something of that sort, you know?"

"You could become an animagus." He says, his voice defensive. He doesn't know why. James casts a look at Remus, his nervous expression barely hidden, as often the case was with him.

"Yeah, but that's elective. I just wonder what it's like." Your voice goes quieter, sensing the tension in the air, you might have an idea on why it's present.

"You don't think it's strange?" His words are tentative, testing the waters.

"I'm sure it is. I don't understand why we have to be mean about it. Just seems like baseless prejudice." you're facing him now, a bit worried at his words. Your eyes searched his face, though he couldn't figure out what you wanted to find.

"They're pretty dangerous."

"Anyone can be dangerous, Rem. If they want to be. And wouldn't it unfair to cast someone as dangerous over something they can't control?" you ask. rhetorically, shaking your head as you get up to kiss him goodnight, another one to James before covering your face with your blanket, cozying yourself into Sirius. His gaze is still insistent on Remus. 

Remus' hands reach your head and he runs his long fingers through your hair, a slight hint of a smile present on his lips.

..

This would be one of the worst times Remus' would look back on. These past few months had become so easy, with his pack, his friends by his side, taming down the wolf. But he had been too much in his head this time. Not aware of his surroundings, his thoughts covered by you. 

He had gotten too far and Padfoot or Prongs couldn't reach him anymore, James had told him.

His scars were too visible, again. His eyelids felt heavy with pain. Madam Pomfrey had been generous with her potions, doing everything in her favor to heal him. It had worked, his scars had faded, not entirely gone, but they weren't so ugly anymore. They're not ugly Rem, your voice echoed in his mind. He smiles despite himself. These sentences had become sort of like automatic responses in his mind, James, Sirius and your words, one after the other to counter his misery.

It was early morning, and today there had been plans to go to Hogsmeade. Sirius had promised he would take care of the situation. Remus' always felt guilty when they would cover up his lies. But today was too much of an exhausting day to worry.

Maybe he'll tell you tomorrow, or later. Or you would be gone before he has a chance. Maybe that's the best option, he thinks, the last thing on his mind as he drifts to sleep. 

… 

He's awoken to a soft touch on his cheek, he dreads opening his eyes. Pomfrey is going to have to bandage him up this time, the wounds are too severe. He winces the second his muscles have to move,

"Oh no, I'm so sorry." His eyes fly open, his ears alert to the familiar voice.

"Shh, lay down." You push his shoulder gently to the bed, and hold up a bag, 

"I was already in Hogsmeade. Thought I'd bring over your favourites."

A bag full of chocolates. Remus smiles weakly even though his entire being is filled with fear. His eyes are watching every move of yours, how your fingers twitch when they're near him. If he didn't know you, he would misinterpret it as disgust, or annoyance, but he knew better. 

"But first, we have to dress you up." You say softly, your eyes smiling at him. It always felt like that, whenever you looked at him.

Your hands were tentative, too careful and gentle than needed. He was used to it, the pain. But he didn't say anything, just watched you figure it out, welcoming the gentle approach. 

As your hands apply the balm to his wounds, he audibly winces, which causes you to wince and pull your hands back. You look at him sorrowfully, "Did I hurt you too much?" He shakes his head no. He would have laughed at your question some other time, Not more than me, dove. That is, if he wasn't terrified. 

"You know," your voice is quiet, just above a whisper, "I'd really like to know what kind of dog you've been fighting, just about every month." your eyes flicker, a knowing sadness enveloping them. 

His eyes sombered. A wave of guilt and sadness covered them, a slight frown on his forehead, but his eyes never left yours.

She knows, Remus realises.

He doesn't know why he assumed you wouldn't. You're smart, perceptive, kind. He should have known why you didn't question their monthly disappearances. He should have known why your touches were more frequent around the full moons. 

He always brushed it off. Hopeful thinking. It must be a coincidence. He had hoped too much, too illogically. He had indulged his wishful thinking in hopes of not having to confront you, he supposed that is his fault.

He found himself more guilty of the fact that he had hid something from you, rather than you knowing the truth.

It was a surprising realisation, yet also not. 

He should have known, really. He should have told you himself. 

His hands raise to hold the side of your face, his touch a bit too harsh as he pulls you closer, his hands less in his control. His thumbs run across your damp cheeks, tears he had just noticed.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, his words a bit wobbly, unsure of his own voice. Your forehead rests against his, and you tilt your head to kiss him. He hesitated, just for a second, but pulled you back in when you tried to distance yourself.

The air is heavy with tension and unspoken revelations, "I don't care about your dog fights, Remus. You should know that."

Remus is grateful for the metaphor James had coined. He didn't know if he could handle the direct words, the intensity of the truth. He'll tell you every single detail, as long as it takes, as much as it scared him, or hurt him. Maybe he'll tell you tonight, or tomorrow, or maybe the day after. It doesn't really matter anyway. 

"And no more hiding in hospital when it hurts you too much." 

He nodded, repressing a smile at the dog metaphor.

"I'm beginning to think this dog and I are in an abusive relationship."

You laugh, and he's glad to hear the sound, his own mouth mimicking yours.

"I'll fight all your dogs, baby." You brush away his hair from his forehead to see him better, a small scar hidden by his hair revealing itself.

"I don't think Sirius will appreciate that."

You roll your eyes, "Who cares what he thinks."

"Oh, you have so much you don't know."

"What else is there to know?" You look at him questioningly. 

Remus chuckles and pulls you in to kiss you again,

"You will get all your answers, dove. I promise."

"But-"

"There are some things that that pretty little head of yours can't figure out."

"Huh-" You don't get to say much, because he shuts you up, his smiling lips on yours. 

[hw4-l1z]

ateez headcanons for a top m reader who's fairly noisy during sex?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Gotta love a vocal man

Sub!ateez x Verse!m!reader

Cw: scratching// reader is a bit of a submissive top in this ig// blowjobs//

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Seonghwa

He really never expected it from you when you first started letting out more noises

You'd be quite shy to do it the first few times whilst having sex with him

But over time the more comfortable you felt with him especially in as sexual setting, the less you held back.

The first time he heard you let out a loud, drawn out moan when you came inside him he couldn't help but blush so hard whilst shooting his load on himself right after.

He praised you on how attractive your moans were and encouraged you to let them slip next time

So you did

Moans spilling from your lips everytime his walls squeeze around you.

He come to realize that this whole time you were VERY vocal but just never let it out

He gets off on your moans everytime, he's OBSESSED.

Hongjoong

Clearly your cock was very sensitive by the way you become a moaning mess with him

He really never expected it at all since your usually quite quiet and have a tough demeanor

But boy he was wrong

You let out the prettiest noises he's ever heard

He actually told you that you should make moaning audios and post then cause people would love it but you'd feel too awkward to record them and post it online.

You'd send some privately to him though but only when you're feeling veryyy horny and aren't thinking straight and gain some sort of confidence.

Yunho

You were both so loud honestly

You'd have to make sure no other members were around whenever you guys wanted to fuck cause yous knew it would traumatize them.

He loves when you tuck your head into his shoulder and just let out muffled moans and whines.

It was honestly straight out a porno with you two

His brain would melt at the noises you made when he was giving you head

Gripping onto his hair, your head thrown back as you let out the most fucked out moans and whimpers

Your tip is especially sensitive and yunho knows this so he likes to pay as much attention to it as he can just to see the way you strangle out moans.

Yeosang

It makes him blush so much when you get loud

He knows it's because of how good he's making you feel and he can't help but feel proud yet shy about it

The low grunts and growls to the louder sharp moans you let out when you cum. Sends shivers down his spine.

Sometimes you can sound almost animalistic and god it turns him on so much

His fingernails are clawing at your back as you growl into his ear lowly

Even your moans have some rasp and growl to them

He can't get enough of them.

San

Same thing with yunho, he's loud asf too

Honestly you wouldn't be able to tell which one of you is being fucked

His moans are more whiny and pathetic whereas yours are more low and sometimes aggressive??

You can sound pathetic at times but that's only if you're being overstimulated cause san is basically in heat and riding every last drop of cum out your cock

But you can't deny you love those moments

He's just so pent up and horny so he drags you to your shared room and practically pounces on your dick

His body is red with heat and his skin glistening from the sweat as he milks your poor cock whilst you lay there pathetically whining and moaning

Mingi

He's surprisingly quiet during sex

But you being so loud brings him out that shell so he feels more comfortable to let it out

He's face down ass up on the bed as you grind your cock into him, moaning and panting in his ear whilst he lays there savouring every noise you make

Your moans echo through his ears and vibrate into the deepest parts of him

It's the most beautiful sound to him

He would definitely LOVE if you sent voice messages of you touching yourself, moaning and calling his name to him

He'd use your audios to get himself when you're not able to see him or if he's away on tour

He'd finish embarrassingly quick:(

Wooyoung

Another noisy one too

But he's louder than you still

You always thought you were loud in bed until you met wooyoung

I don't even mean loud as in moans he's just loud in general

Maybe if you decided to give a little spank whilst fucking him from behind but you slapped a little too hard he'd yelp and just shout 'YAAAA' at the top of his lungs

Or if you're teasing him and he's getting too frustrated and just yells to the entire fucking household for you to fuck him...

....anyways more about reader being loud though

He really loves how vocal you are

The moans and groans you're constantly letting out

The streams of curses slipping from your lips that become progressively more whiny when you're about to cum

The deep growls that come from you when you're in a rougher more aggressive mood

All them drive him insaneeeeee

Jongho

Honestly so surprised when he heard how vocal you were

It turned him on so much

It was all he could really focus on really

You'd be leaning over him and fucking him so good but he'd just be staring at you as you let a much of moans out

His eyes would flick between your closed eyes and your open mouth, his own mouth slightly agape as he's so hyperfocused on the way your body reacts to everything.

He could get off on your moans alone but is too shy to ask for you send audios of them

He loves when you get so close to him and end up moaning right into his ear

Makes his cock twitch everytime.

[halfwayhearted]

hey beautiful, can i get joão fluff where he comes home from a match and the reader is listening to music and reading and he tries to get the readers attention ??? maybe it’s corny idk. lmk.

Truly Madly Deeply — João Félix.

Pairing: João Félix x Fem!Reader

Summary: He tries his utmost to catch your attention.

Word Count: 630+

Disclaimer/s — Teasing, and fluff, that’s it.

A/N: First João blurb for the only João lover ever, ALLY. HI!

All João wants is to go home and finally see you.

It was a successful match against Noah, with a score of eight to none. Having scored two of those eight, he couldn’t have been more ecstatic.

As were you. Watching the game alone had its perks. You could jump and squeal in the comfort of your own home without anybody telling you to keep it down or, well, shut up. Not that you would’ve. This was big. You were proud of him.

Since then, it’s been quite calm. You had texted him, congratulating him on his goals and telling him to call you whenever he was free. You didn’t want to intrude on his time with his team.

That call never came, not that you minded.

Assuming it was because he was occupied, you spent the last couple of hours sitting on your couch, your AirPods in and a book on your lap.

That was when he’d arrived and was outside. He took out his keys, fumbled with them slightly before slipping one into the keyhole, unlocking the front door, and stepping inside. The brunette hung his bag on the hook, slipped off his shoes, and wearily closed the door behind him.

He caught sight of you instantly, a smile growing on his face as he set his keys down. “I’m home,” he stated, though he received no response.

Blaming it on the fact that he might’ve been too quiet, he repeats himself. To no avail, of course.

You’re probably asleep. You were always falling asleep on the couch, saying, ‘After this chapter!’ Or, ‘I need to finish this episode.’ You’d finish the chapter or the episode, but you’d still fall asleep.

Walking into the kitchen, he opens the fridge and grabs a water. He spins off the lid and takes a sip, then stiffens at the sound of a page being turned.

Oh, hello? You were definitely not asleep.

João says your name once, twice, a third time. Still no answer. Okay, what the hell? Rounding the couch, he flinches only when you do first.

Picking up your phone, you pause your music and slam your book shut. “Oh, my God? What happened to calling to alert me or something!”

“I didn’t—” he’s speechless. “My phone died! You didn’t hear me come in? Make noise? Talk?”

“Well! Obviously not! I have AirPods in, João.”

Now the man is scoffing, his arms flying out in disbelief. “How was I supposed to know?”

That was true. Your boyfriend did have a point.

Not wanting this… argument to continue any longer, you stand up from your seat and smile. “You’re home! I’m so very proud of you.”

“Are we just going to move past—”

Your expression drops. “Hey, hey. Shhhh… let’s talk about your goals! You were amazing today.”

Drop it, right. It’s dropped! Taking a couple of steps toward you, his arms slide over your waist, his hands interlocking with one another, and he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t want to talk about it?” You questioned.

“I do. Just not now. I’m a little tired. I missed you.”

A smile spreads across your lips and you hum softly, “I missed you, too. Why don’t we go to sleep? I was just about to get ready for bed.”

“Please,” he breathes, lifting his head. “I think we should establish a no-AirPod rule from now on.”

“Oh, be quiet. Or, I don’t know, we can establish a not-letting-our-phones-die-so-we’re-unable-to-contact-each-other rule. How about that? I think that’s much better than the rule you’re wanting to make. Thoughts? Questions? Concerns?”

Silence. How perfect! “Right, come on, yeah?”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @sakashq + @ar4ujos + of course, @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[naehja]

Crossover MDZS/TGCF where, the Nie Family are the descendants of the Shi Family, even if not directly from the brothers (who were both to young to be parents when they ascend).

But the Water and Wind Masters are importants gods in Qinghe.

Nie Huaisang especially search comfort from them after his brother's death. Shi Qingxuan is worried for him and visit him often (even if as a god, he can't show favoritism….even if nobody would know). Shi Wudu is less present but he's pissed when he learns what happened to Mingjue.

(Let's just say that the Jin aren't very lucky with the sea, lacs, rivers or the winds)

The Black Water Arc happens.

Nie Huaisang realizes that he doesn't see Shi Qingxuan anymore like before, and he's worried. Nobody answers the prayers anymore. Like if they weren't here anymore.

He still prays for them.

Nothing will make him believe less in them.

They're his family, even if from generations ago.

Months pass. TGCF events is over.

Nie Huaisang successes in his revenge towarf Jin Guangyao, which reveal all the truths about what happened since years, and he also reveals all the wrongs the man did. And so he makes sure that his friend (Wei Wuxian) is now prooved innocent and can live happily.

And Nie Huaisang immediatly ascends as god of rightful revenge, who punish the culprits, and protect the innocents, who give the strength to people to hope that there are a justice in the world when the human justice left them down. He's also see as the protector of families.

While he decides to immediately search a way to make sure that his brother really rest, he also asks what happened to the Shi Siblings. He grieves Wudu, even if he also judges him hardly for what he did.

He learns the unfair life that Qingxuan lives right now and go to see him. He finds a very thin and tired beggar, with a arm and a leg paralysed and heartbroken because he really loved He Xuan. Nie Huaisang knows what happened to him. Except that the whole "having his brother killed under his eyes" thing trigger him a lot.

He reveals himself to Shi Qingxuan and while the latter is proud of him.

Nie Huaisang speaks with him about what happened, about He Xuan and he's like

Nie Huaisang: aren't you tired of being super nice?

Nie Huaisang: Don't you just wanna go apeshit?

Shi Qingxuan: haha what? I deserved it. He Xuan had the right to avenge his family.

Nie Huaisang: And so you have the right to avenge your brother by this logic, right?

Shi Qingxuan:

Nie Huaisang: Really…Don't you just wanna go apeshit? Because you should seen what you lived.

((Somewhere else

He Xuan: *has shivers of worry*))

Shi Qingxuan: I don't want to hurt him. He has suffered because of me =(

Nie Huaisang: Ho trust me, there are ways to take revenge without hurting anyone =)

Nie Huaisang: no pity until he crawls at your feet for forgiveness =)

Shi Qingxuan, with a little soft voice: But i love him

Nie Huaisang: this is not incompatible =) I will find a way to satisfy your wish. If you want he'll be crawling at your feet for forgiveness and will marry you after that. You don't deserve to suffer for something that you didn't want or asked or even KNEW.

[igglemouse]

It's Monday which is kind of the start of the week? It usually feels like it at least and I'm not exactly sure what might happen this Monday but I'll be starting it in the shower. Washing off the last of yesterday, you could say, because one must smell good in show business. Just imagine me showing up for my audition with a stench? 'Sorry, you're acting was impeccable but but you stink, no literally, you stink!'

By the by, I'm not much of a chef and so you'll see me munching on whatever I can get my hands on and this morning its a very plain sandwich. I hope it'll be good enough for breakfast because it is the best I can do right now.

OH! Some news that you might not expect but I've decided to join a book club! I'm not sure exactly why buuuuuut, I did? Look, I saw an opportunity and I took it and besides, acting includes a lot of reading. Imagine being an A-lister and having countless scripts sent your way? Exactly. So I plan on being an avid reader!

ANY WAYS! Off to my first audition! Wish me luck!

After a successful audition (I won the part!) I head out to the park to clear my mind and just enjoy the day. A good day. A happy day because my career is beginning. Sure, it's just a commercial but one, it adds to my currently blanke resume and two, I make simoleons. So, we all have to start somewhere and I look forward to shooting it.

ANYWAYS! So I'm at the park and feeling the vibes until the sound of a clearly practicing and amateur musician hits my ears. I'm not going to lie, most of it was horrible, but for whatever reason it catches my attention and interest.

I'm not new here. Like I've said, I'm DSV for life, born and raised, so I'm used to seeing people out in the street begging for the right pair of eyes or ears to give them their big chance so this is nothing new, but the man certainly has a unique sound to him...

It's his voice. That's what it was. It has a tenderness to it that grabs you, that makes you wonder about his story, but then you hear his fingers carelessly pluck at a guitar and it ruins whatever comes from his throat.

I stare at him for a moment and wonder what his game is. Does he realize that he can't play the guitar or is this some new genre I know nothing about? I'll be honest, if it's not a musical I don't vibe with it so it is entirely possible that maybe he this is what you kids listen to nowadays? Anyways, the man seems satisfied with himself.

He finishes and puts his guitar down, satisfied with himself for whatever reason and looking at me as if he expects some applause. "Ummm, congrats!" is all I can offer for lack of not knowing what else to say. I don't want to put him down because he's so very proud of his performance. Actually, he should be, at least half of it? don't know what else to say, he seems so proud of himself.

"Ah, thank you, thank you!" Yep, definitely proud of himself.

"Your voice is very unique, in a good way!" Always focus on the positive, right?!

"Thanks! I'm new to the guitar but it's like they say, practice makes perfect, right?"

"Umm, is it a good idea to practice in the public?" I ask the obvious question because why practice in front of others? It would be like me performing my script out here in front of others.

"I figure if people see my rawness and see the growth over time that they might connect with me more, y'know?"

"Oh, yeah..." hmm, that is an interesting outlook on it, I guess he's thinking long term? "So, whats your vibe, what's your style? What kind of music are you trying to create?"

"All I have is my voice and my word, so I kind of mix things up, you know? A little melodic singing over music is what I tend to do. I don't have a genre, I want to transcend genres."

"Hmm, yeah," Yep, definitely a musician. I know us artists get flack for being odd but that's not on us, not on us thespians I should clarify. It's mainly the painters and musicians that are out there. Maybe you can include writers, if you can find them, they like to hide under rocks after all. "I think you definitely have the talent, at least with your voice, so yeah I can see that!"

"Yep, now it's just about finding someone with simoleons to believe in me I guess."

"Well, you might not get it playing like that in this park!" I joke, but he does laugh with me and seems to understand my point.

"I'm persistent, I'll be here everyday until someone gets tired of it."

"I get it! I'm the same way, I guess we are both here chasing dreams," and this is the city of dreams, isn't it? A city of stars is probably more apt.

"Oh, you too huh!? Derrick, by the way," and he gives me that smile, maybe you know the one? The one that tells me he'd like to see me again but in a different setting. Right now, I'm not exactly opposed to that.

"Teresa! Maybe one day our names will be on the front page of a magazine!"

Derrick was well met especially because his story feels similar to mines. He's out there grinding with the hopes that someone, anyone, will give him a shot. That's how this whole thing works, doesn't it? You do all you can for that one shot, that one moment that will launch you into stardom and once you are there? Once you are there it's hard to get you down. For him, it's one song that can transform his career and for me it's one performance.

So I find myself back home in front of my mirror and the script firmly in hand. It's a commercial so my lines are few, two sentences, but I'll put my entire soul into those two lines.

But commercials are not my end goal of course as they are just a stepping stone to bigger and better things. I don't have any connections but I do have a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend that thinks she can get me into an upcoming sitcom that is specifically looking for someone that looks just like me but this is an opportunity for another day so let's not think too much on it right now.

Alright, I think I've done enough for the day. I cook some friend plantains, which I do alright with, and get ready for bed. I'll need a full day of rest for my performance tomorrow. Do they give awards for commercials, by the way?

Teresa Tejedor - Next Episode 1.3

[rabb1ttrash]

I just think Wolffe deserves to have claws :)

[turtleblogatlast]

I love Raph and haven’t said that enough so to be more specific I love that Raph is a soft boy who loves bear plushies, a gross boy who eats an assortment of things that are definitely better left alone, a smart boy who is more than capable of taking down villains through planning and fortitude alike, a strong boy who is dedicated to training his muscles and fighting prowess, a teenage boy who loves his brothers but is more than happy to tease and roughhouse with them, an angry boy who sometimes lets his anger take a hold of him to cover the fear, a gentle boy who is generous with hugs and affirmations to those he loves, a capable boy who takes on more than should ever be expected of a teenager, a good boy who just wants to be a hero and slowly comes to realize the cost of that duty, a good boy who has no reservations about putting himself in the way of harm coming to his family, a good boy who’s a great brother and son and person and deserves only the best the world has to offer.

[mamawasatesttube]

i do genuinely think an adult, fully-realized kon would be able to defeat superman in a fight. not just saying that bc he's my fav or whatever but because like. ttk is so op. telekinetic power with the range and raw strength to destroy every single gun in LA, and the finesse of control to not destroy anything else? that alone is a huge force to be reckoned with. add kryptonian abilities on top of that and you've got a fucking powerhouse. like um devs? op tbh pls nerf (except don't, because i find that sooooo tasty.)

because to clark, i think this is a good thing! it isn't quite so lonely when he's got a little brother/son/they really can't label it but they're family, who understands the alienation. the burden of having so much power. the fear of what your own hands can do. he sees in kon a kindred spirit, although it also saddens him that kon has to feel this burden too.

but kon?

oh, kon is terrified of himself.

[musubiki]

lately ive been thinking about the contrast going on in Early Lime where hes like "tbh im pretty sure i could have any girl i wanted including mochi i mean i guess if she wanted we could give it a shot one day but i dont really care lol" and then very easily becoming completely unhinged for her the second he gets a tinge of romantic affection

[paperlovesadness]

Biggest Miles Kane fans (in order):

Alex Turner

Miles Kane himself (rightfully so)

You & me Tumblr friend. (And his mum)

Generally people with taste 👌

[fragmentedblade]

Blade compared the relief from pain death brought him to the moments spent with his friends drinking together.

His desire for death as both a release from pain and from the condition of existence in which he finds himself now, so similar to that which he most hated (hated so much as to dedicate his entire life and self to fight, up to the point of crossing unthinkable barriers for shortlife species); but death also almost like a returning to the time that was, the joy and pride it brought him, and the friends and self he lost

[perenlop]

ohhhh thinking about the parallels between odin/maya and frost/marlow/valerie rn

[makoheadrush]

Quietly bragging that my kid was accepted to the Berklee college of music

Quietly sobbing because it is heartbreakingly unaffordable