#i am one of the first to participate in a challenge and i don't have to wait forever don't judge me okay

[doodleodds]

Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.

If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.

I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.

I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.

Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.

[mismatched-sockss]

Follow my lead

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..) » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love) » A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!

⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶

“Never?”

“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”

“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.

“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.

You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”

Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”

“Show me.”

“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”

Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”

Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.

The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...

Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.

If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.

And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..

The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.

His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants

“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”

You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.

Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.

You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.

“Like that. Good girl.”

This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.

Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.

You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”

Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.

“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”

You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.

And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.

“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”

You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.

“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”

You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.

“Patience, love.”

Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.

The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”

“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.

After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”

He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”

With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.

“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”

You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.

"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.

"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"

You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."

"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."

If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.

“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”

The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”

You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.

The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.

The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.

A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”

The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.

But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.

“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”

The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.

After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.

“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.

A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”

You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.

Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.

It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.

A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”

“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”

You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.

This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.

“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.

You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –

“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.

When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.

As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”

A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.

Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.

You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.

The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.

He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.

The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.

“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”

You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.

Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”

He asked and your body complied.

With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.

Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”

“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.

He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”

“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”

“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”

His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.

He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.

“Are you comfortable?”

You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.

So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.

All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.

His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.

Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.

Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.

Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.

He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.

With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.

You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”

“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.

Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.

You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.

You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.

When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.

Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.

You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.

When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.

“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.

He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”

Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.

[jen-with-a-pen]

𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦

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

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

word count: 6.5K

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

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

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

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

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

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.

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

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

“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”

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

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

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

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

He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.

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

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

Your face burned.

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

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

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

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

You swallowed a groan. 

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

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

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

“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”

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

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

You wanted to take his finger and break it.  

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

You doubted it was convincing.

“Fine.” 

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

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

“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“When the hell did you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 

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

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

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

You swallowed. “You heard me.”

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

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

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

“Look at me!” 

“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that all, Sergeant?” 

His Adam's apple bobbed.

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

“You heard me.” 

The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 

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

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

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

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

And you let him.

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

“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 

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

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

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart stopped.

“You’re telling me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.

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

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

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

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

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

“Number fuckin’ one.”

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

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

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

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

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

SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

[corydora-writes]

My Everything

Summary: You're Bruce Wayne's wife and a plus-size model. Tonight, you are attending a Wayne Charity Gala that you tenaciously put together! Bruce can't seem to take his eyes off you, and it's apparent that other affluent guests are equally captivated by you.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Plus Size Female Reader.

Warnings: Minors DNI! Fluff, and smut towards the end.

Word Count: 3,627

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing smut, and it's probably going to be my last. I much prefer writing fluff. Nonetheless, enjoy! x

Life as a plus-size model and being Bruce Wayne's wife often presented unique challenges. This year, you dedicated yourself to your modeling commitments for the Winter Season while actively participating in the meticulous planning and arrangements for the prestigious end-of-the-year Wayne Charity Gala. Balancing these roles was undeniably taxing, but the anticipation of quality time with your husband, free from his responsibilities as Batman, made it all worthwhile. 

After flawlessly applying your makeup, your stylist carefully guided you in putting on the stunning dress while you were blindfolded. You eagerly anticipated the first glimpse of the dress, specifically chosen and tailored just for you.

"Okay, love," Salah exclaimed excitedly, "you can open your eyes now." 

You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, and your mouth fell open in astonishment. The stunning silk dress draped in a luxurious emerald green hue was sleeveless, allowing the delicate stretch marks on your shoulders to peek through, a part of your beauty that you cherished and never concealed with makeup. The dress elegantly cinched at your waist, enhancing your figure and accentuating your bosom. With a playful and confident air, you kicked your leg forward through the intricate slit of the dress. 

"Salah, you have outdone yourself once again," you said with genuine admiration. "Your talent is truly unparalleled." 

You turned around to inspect the dress from behind.

"I don't recall seeing this exquisite piece on the runway this season. Am I the lucky one to be adorned in your remarkable prototype?"

"That's because it wasn't on the runway," Salah added. "And not a prototype." 

You turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised in confusion. 

"Who designed it, then?" You inquired. 

"Your husband did." 

"What?"

"A few months ago, he requested a custom-designed dress exclusively for you. I brought his vision to life."

A warm and tender sensation filled your heart.

"And," Salah began, " that's not the only thing he chose." His tone was mischievous.

"What do you mean?" you asked. 

"He chose that sexy lace set you're wearing underneath." he grinned. "He's so going to unwrap you after the gala."

You coughed softly and forced a smile, hoping to conceal the hint of a blush creeping up your cheeks.

—

Bruce had just finished getting ready at his office after several lengthy meetings at Wayne Enterprises and made his way to the manor to pick you up. He couldn't help but think about the elegant dress he had carefully selected for you. Knowing it was from your favorite designer and good friend made him hope you would love it as much as he did.

He dispatched final instructions to Dick, Jason, and Damian. They had been tasked with patrolling the city until his return from the charity event.

Just take the entire night off, old man, Dick replied. 

As he was getting ready to reply, he heard the door upstairs close. He instinctively slid his phone into his pocket and made his way to the base of the staircase, where the ornate wooden railing wound up to the upper floor.

Bruce found himself in rapt fascination as he watched you come down. Your gown was a work of art, embracing every curve of your figure with an effortless grace that demanded attention. A surge of longing coursed through him as he took in the sight of you.

Extending his hand, he met you at the final step, his touch both supportive and filled with quiet intensity as he assisted you.

Bruce's breath caught in his throat as he beheld you. 

"Wow, you are breathtaking," he stammered, his voice betraying his unsteady awe at the sight of you.

You smiled mysteriously as you gracefully walked away from him, and then, with a slow and deliberate twirl, you revealed every inch of yourself, captivating his attention.

"I hope this dress meets your approval, Mr. Wayne." Your voice was sultry and seductive, causing a surge of arousal in Bruce. 

"It more than meets my approval. You look positively stunning," he said earnestly, unable to take his eyes off you. 

He gently drew you close, pulling you towards him with a soft yet firm touch. His hands found their place on your waist as you responded by tenderly wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling the reassuring strength in his embrace.

As he leaned in closer, his warm and tender lips made contact with your bare, delicately exposed shoulder, leaving a trail of gentle, affectionate kisses.

He whispered in your ear, "What you're wearing underneath is for my eyes only," his breath ghosting across your skin, "a treasure that belongs solely to me."

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you experienced a momentary pause. Bruce's possessive nature emanated from a profound depth of affection, conveying a wholesome desire to protect and adore you.

He stepped back, gazing into your eyes with a tender intensity. 

"But I'm not entirely selfish," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I want the entire world to be captivated by the extraordinary beauty you possess," he confessed, his words lingering in the air. "But always remember, you belong to me, now and for all eternity." With a gentle yet firm grip on your waist, he drew you closer, his touch conveying both possession and adoration. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against yours. It was a kiss filled with passion and longing that conveyed all the emotions that Bruce had felt since he first laid eyes on you at the Art Gallery. And as you both pulled away, your eyes sparkled with adoration, your love for him evident in every gesture.

But your love for each other was not without its challenges. Your marriage was unconventional, but it didn't matter to either of you. Bruce had to balance his responsibilities as Batman and as your husband constantly. He tried to keep you at arm's length, afraid of putting you in danger, but you refused to back down. You were determined to stand by his side, no matter what, even if it meant sharing him with life as the Caped Crusader. 

But you couldn't deny that the dual life made things complicated. Whenever Gotham was threatened and needed Batman's attention, he had to leave abruptly, leaving you worried and alone. You also spent countless nights alone, only seeing him in the mornings. But you never complained. You understood the importance of Bruce's mission and always remained supportive.

Each time Bruce laid eyes on you, the world seemed to fade away, leaving behind a singular focus on you. In those rare, cherished moments, he had the opportunity to give you his undivided attention, and it was as if he was experiencing the exhilaration of falling in love with you all over again.

"Something on your mind?" You asked him because you noticed that he was lost in thought. 

Bruce shook away from his reveries. 

"You," Bruce replied. "And how badly I want to explore every inch of your body and show you how much you mean to me," he said in a low and husky voice. 

You blushed and smiled shyly at him. 

"I'll be patient, Mrs. Wayne." He looked at you and smirked as if reveling in your obvious flushed face. 

Bruce couldn't help but wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both made your way to the car. 

—

When you arrived, a relentless barrage of camera flashes greeted you. Bruce appeared at the door, extending a supportive hand to help you up and guiding you towards him. His touch was gentle yet protective as his hand settled on your waist. He made it his mission to shield you from any potential dangers, including the relentless intrusion of the paparazzi.

"Can we get photos of you both individually?" One of the photographers yelled. 

Bruce got out of the way to let your photo get taken. 

You struck a pose, your hand on your hip and your head held high, exuding elegance and grace. The photographer snapped away, capturing every angle. Your smile was radiant, and it was evident that you were genuinely enjoying yourself. As you gazed out into the crowd, you could see the positive reactions from those around you. People were clapping and cheering, admiring your beauty and confidence.

The photographer asked for a few more poses, and you happily obliged. 

You shifted your gaze to Bruce and found him looking at you with an affectionate expression, a loving gleam in his eyes, and a gentle smile gracing his face. He had a tad look of mischief, likely undressing you in his mind. You returned the smile. 

"Now you, Bruce!" One photographer yelled, interrupting the moment you were both sharing.

"Not tonight," Bruce answered and walked away with you. 

Bruce kissed your forehead and wished you luck before leaving you to do your own thing while he mingled with the partners of Wayne Enterprises. 

The night progressed with a series of speeches by prominent artists. When it was time for you to speak, your words echoed through the hushed hall, reminding everyone present why they were there: to give foster children a chance at a better life. The funds would go to build an independent living facility for children, particularly teenagers who could not find placements. You shared your experience as a former foster child who aged out of the system, and you vowed to change that reality for other foster kids.

The crowd responded with a chorus of applause. Bruce cheered you on and felt immense pride for all the hard work you had done. 

The sophisticated guests wandered through the carefully curated art gallery, sipping fine champagne and other exquisite, high-priced liquors. As you contemplated a potential art addition to your office, your attention was drawn to a group of impeccably dressed women whispering and giggling, their envious eyes fixed on you. Feeling a pang of annoyance, you rolled your eyes and massaged your temples as their conversation reached your ears. It seemed like these events always managed to attract the same types of people: the typical wealthy individuals who generously spent money for a good cause to make themselves feel good, the ones who came with the mission to find any gossip, and those who murmured opinions on how you were an unlikely match for Bruce.

"Excuse me," you said in a warm tone and gave them a friendly smile, trying not to disrupt the moment. I couldn't help but notice that all of you have been staring at me." You uttered these words cautiously, in case someone discreetly captured the moment with their camera.

The women looked at each other, caught off guard by your courage to confront them.

"Oh, we couldn't help but notice your gorgeous dress. May I ask where you found it?" one of the women inquired, attempting to divert from their earlier discussion.

You let out a light chuckle, a knowing smile spreading across your face as you realize they are being untruthful. "Thank you for your kind words," you respond, unable to resist mentioning, "but I overheard your conversation."

The women's eyes darted anxiously, repeatedly adjusting their position to avoid meeting your gaze and showing unease.

"I couldn't help but overhear you discussing my husband, Bruce Wayne, and speculating about why he chose to be with someone like me," you said in a composed and collected tone, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you.

The women were visibly shocked by your unexpected confrontation. Their eyes widened, and their expressions turned to disbelief. They stood there, motionless, struggling to find the right words.

"I'm flattered…" you began.

The women gazed at each other, their brows furrowed in confusion as they exchanged perplexed looks, trying to make sense of the situation.

"You purchased a $15,000 ticket to this charity event, but instead of supporting the cause, you made my appearance the topic of conversation," you said calmly.

One of the women cleared her throat. As they sipped their drinks, a flush of crimson spread across their faces, betraying their unease.

Bruce's strong, comforting arm encircled your waist, and as he leaned down, you felt the warmth of his lips as he placed a tender and affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Ladies," he remarked with a warm smile. "You all look lovely."

"Thank you", the women said shyly. 

"What were you all talking about, if I may?" Bruce asked.

"Love," you began. "The ladies were curious to know why you married me." 

Bruce's eyes met yours with a deep, enamored gaze.

"Yes, she is undeniably beautiful, and she's currently the most sought-after model," he said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "But my wife, she's not just outwardly stunning. Her compassionate nature, selflessness, and genuine care for others demonstrate that she possesses a heart that is truly pure and kind. She's an extraordinary mother to our children. I feel truly understood and seen for who I am in her presence."

You gazed at Bruce for a long moment, your expression tender. 

"I'm the luckiest man in the world." He leaned to press his lips against yours. 

"Mr. Wayne," someone from afar called him. 

"Excuse me, ladies." He turned to look at them. "Please enjoy the rest of your night."

Once Bruce reached a far distance, they turned to look at you. 

One of the women cleared her throat nervously before speaking with a shaky voice to apologize to you.

"Me too." The second woman said.

"So am I," the other one said. 

"If your apology is sincere, I will accept it as cash, credit, or check." You smiled and kept your tone neutral. 

Ordinarily, you wouldn't have directly addressed the situation. With age and experience, you worked diligently to develop self-love and gratitude for your body, so the pressures of society and critical gazes lost their significance eons ago. But you felt playful tonight, so you decided to leverage fatphobia to benefit the charity. 

—

The elegant gala was winding down, with most guests having departed. Bruce found himself at the bustling bar, conversing with a group of enthusiastic investors who had pledged generous donations to the charity.

Bruce excused himself from the gathering and found a quiet, secluded area. He reached for his phone and found a message from Dick: 

We're all fine. Goons being goons. Take the damn night, old man. Seriously.

Just as he was about to send a message, the murmur of the investors nearby caught his attention. Their conversation revealed their admiring remarks about your enchanting allure, casting a shadow of unease over Bruce's thoughts.

"How long do you give it until they split?" One said. 

"Trust fund kid turned CEO with a model?" one man quipped. "I give it two years at most."

"I can already imagine the tabloid headlines."

They laughed. 

"I call dibs."

Bruce's ears twitched. A flicker of anger crossed his face before he schooled his expression into one of haughty indifference. 

"Hey darling," you uttered sweetly and sat next to him. 

Bruce maintained his silence, offering no words in response.

"Bruce," you asked, your voice tinged with worry. "Are our sons okay? Did something happen to them?"

Bruce's unease dissipated as he gazed into your widened eyes, which had been filled with concern. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of guilt for causing you distress.

"No, the boys are fine."

He carefully observed the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, exhaling a sigh of relief.

"Then what's wrong?" You asked again. 

"I'm..." he hesitated. "I'm jealous." 

"What of?" you asked. 

"You see those men over there at the bar?" 

You nodded. 

"Your presence tonight set their tongues wagging." 

You chuckled. Your laughter was a sweet melody to Bruce's ears. 

"I belong to you, my love." You said. "And I always will."

He gently took your hand and led you away from the crowd and into a private space, away from prying eyes and ears. 

"You're intoxicating," his eyes smoldering with desire and a hint of possessiveness. "I can't bear the thought of you belonging to anyone but me." 

You smiled, your gaze locking with his. You caressed his face, savoring the fiery moment. 

"I'm terrified of losing you," he confessed, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I constantly feel guilt and fear that I'm holding you back from a life of normalcy, perhaps with another man."

You were fully attentive while Bruce shared his thoughts, never interrupting him. It had taken him a long time to be vulnerable with you. Your unwavering resolve since the beginning gradually chipped away at his defenses. The once stoic, reserved man of few words, shrouded in an aura of melancholy and enigma, let his facade crumble until you saw the man behind the mask. You had become a balm to his wounds. 

"Bruce," the soft hum of his name escaped your lips as you gently reached out to hold his hand. "We are anything but ordinary, and that's what I adore about us. I don't crave a conventional relationship. I want you."

Enveloping him in your embrace, your love acted as a guiding light, casting out the lingering shadows that plagued his soul.

He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

"Let's go home," he said. 

_______                           

You and Bruce retreated to the privacy of the opulent Wayne Manor. As you gracefully slipped out of the designer gown, revealing your ample body, Bruce's gaze lingered on you with unabashed desire.

You made your way to him, sat on his lap, and helped remove his tie. 

"you're stunning," Bruce breathed.

His hands explored every dip and curve with a reverence that made you feel worshiped.

He marveled at the feeling of your softness against his firm touch, the contrast between you igniting a fire within him.

"As much as I love this lingerie on you, I think it would look even better on the floor," Bruce whispered in your ear. 

With a flick of his fingers, he undid the clasp of your bra, letting it fall open and reveal your breasts. He ran his hands over them, feeling the softness of your flesh, and then leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan as he teased your nipple with his tongue. 

You reached down and started to undo his pants, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. You stroked it gently, feeling it twitch in your hand as he moaned with pleasure.

You kissed Bruce, his lips soft and gentle against yours. He could feel your body responding to his touch as your breath became increasingly ragged. He felt the heat between you two building, and he broke the kiss to look into your eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he reminds you again.

Then he lays you back gently, and you look up at him with desire. You help him unbutton his shirt and take it off, revealing his toned chest, and you can't help but run your hands over it, sending shivers down his spine. 

He moved down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He reached to your belly, leaving trails of kisses.

'I love your body,' he murmured. 

He continued down, teasing you through the fabric of your panties. You gasped, your hips bucking as he finally slipped a finger under the fabric and into your wet heat.

He slowly fingered you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned and writhed beneath him. You were so wet, so ready for him. He couldn't wait any longer. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, throwing them aside.

He climbed back up your body, his hardness pressing against your wetness. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, urging him on. With one swift thrust, he was inside you. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as he began to fuck you with long, hard strokes.

Your bodies moved together in a rhythm, your moans and gasps of pleasure filling the room. Bruce could feel an orgasm building inside him, tightening as he slammed into you again and again.

You pushed him off of you before he climaxed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and grinding your pelvis against his hard cock. Bruce could feel the heat radiating from your wet pussy, and he ached to be inside you.

'I love how you feel on top of me,' he murmured, his breath hot. "I love your softness, your curves, your warmth."

You reached down and guided Bruce's cock inside your wet slit. He groaned with pleasure as you sank down onto him, taking him all the way in. You began to ride him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. Your hands braced on Bruce's chest. You began to ride him harder, your hips slamming down onto his cock with force. Bruce could feel himself getting close to the edge, feeling himself tighten with pleasure.

With a final, powerful thrust, Bruce came hard inside you, his cock twitching as he filled you. You collapsed onto him, your own orgasm washing over you in waves.

"I love you,' he gasped, his breath hot against your neck. 'You are my everything."

In that intimate embrace, he held you with a fervent tenderness, a sensation he never wanted to fade from memory. His heart overflowed with a desire to immortalize this profound moment: the gentle weight of your presence in his arms, the vulnerability shining in your eyes as you yielded to the depth of his affection, and the unspoken declaration of love reflected on your radiant face.

"I love you," you whispered back, your voice choked with emotion. "I love you so much."

[hedwig221b]

Do you have any fic recs that involve chasing? Like Derek gives in to the urge to run after stiles and catch him?

I kind of didn't really understand what you were asking lol so here are a few types of "chase" fics:

Mating Run Fics:

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles. But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

The Cursed Wolf by SinQueen69

2023 Suggestion Anon Wanted: Feral alpha Derek, who has been cursed and got in that feral state. The only way to lift the curse is the "sacrifice" of a pure heart. And Virgin Omega Stiles is willing to help him but the ritual has to be a mating run.

When Things Go Right by SylvieW

Stiles is nervous for the mating run. What if his soulmate is disappointed? Scott’s convinced that Allison will catch him, but Stiles isn’t so sure of his best friend’s girl, and the results could be upsetting for everyone.

Angel Choirs and Magic by LadyDrace

Derek has been very, very patient, and has shown frankly incredible self-control in the face of brutal teasing and flirting for two months. But now it's time for the mating run, and he's about to get his reward.

Except for how maybe it's actually Stiles getting a treat. Win/win.

Stiles gets kidnapped and Derek gives a chase:

Out of Focus by exclamation

Stiles was taken prisoner by a coven of witches. Now his only chance of getting home is if he learns how to control his own magic… and stops blowing stuff up by accident. With surging power inside him that he can't restrain, Stiles must deal with memories of the nogitsune, and fears that he might end up hurting those he cares about.

Meanwhile, his family and friends don't even know if he's alive. His father desperately searches for answers, and Derek will do anything in his power to find Stiles, even if it means asking an Argent for help.

of gods & monsters by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“I’m not the best at conversation. I’ve been told I have no finesse for it.”

Stiles took a step closer to Derek, pushing the billowing silk out of the way. “And what would you say if you looked at me now?”

Derek looked up, startled for a moment when he realized he was now looking at Stiles’ unveiled face. He was silent for a beat, taking in Stiles’ features for the first time, convinced he would never see such beauty unveiled for him alone.

Stiles runs away and Derek catches his ass:

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.

“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.

“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.

“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

If you wanted fics with their own chasing scenes, I am sorry to inform you that I have a memory of a goldfish, and do not remember any in particular, though I am sure they exist somewhere in the wild. If someone knows some, please, feel free to add!

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | mafia

[fiveht]

Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here. 

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?" 

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions? 

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair. 

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges. 

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

[mechaknight-98]

Game Face (NSFW) FT Hyeju

Author’s note: something different and kinda gross.

“Picture this: it's the final round of Core-A’s Tatsunoko VS Capcom blast from the past tournament and you are facing off against a new challenger whose gamer tag is Mothra. The set is tied between you and her. She's been wrecking your team of Frank West and Tekkaman so to throw her for a curveball you go Polymer and Morrigan. Hyeju is confused “No one plays Polymer,” she says perplexed at your choice

You respond with, “Well I do!” and trounce her in a flawless victory winning a Wii a copy of the game, and 4 “classic controllers””

“Yah Daizo why don't you go bother someone else,” Hyeju says to me as I recount the story to James, Haseul, Arin, Jinsoo, and Nagyung. I shrug and sit down

I smiled as I sat down next to Arin she nestled in close to my neck as I shot my gaze towards her and she looked up at me her bespeckled eyes gleaming leaving my head dazzled.

“Yah I don't know why you're so cocky you came in third,” Hyeju rolls her eyes as she declares,

I look at her with narrow eyes before re-establishing, “Yeah because I only lost to Bon-wa. I beat everyone else I played against, and I would have beat you.” you laugh as despite my boisterous and arrogant antics I often “walked the walk” I put in way more hours into the game then you did and lobbed way more characters than you but yeah you beat me because you are the better player but you wouldn't have beaten Hyeju if weren't for me because I taught you how to play polymer, and suggested Morrigan as a pocket team to mess with high tier play because you can't accurately predict his next move.

“Oh come on Bon-wa beat you in 3 with one flawless win.”

Knowing I was about to dismantle her entire playstyle and give accurate ways to demolish her you defended me, “Sorry Hye but Daizo would level you. I only beat him because I know how he approaches the game and his patterns,”

Hyeju laughed “Please, and like I couldn't we all play together every Thursday, and he always comes in under us,” you and I look at each other at this point and I decide to point out what we both know,

I raise an eyebrow before striking the killing blow, “Um, Hyeju what two characters are my mains in TVC?”

Hyeju shrugs, “Um Karas and Chun Li?”

I look to you and you break the news to your girlfriend,

“Hye he hates playing Chun Li and Karas. He only does it to you because I ask him to,”

Hyeju was flabbergasted “Why” she asked.

You know you have to break it to her carefully.“Well did you see his last match?”

Hyeju shook her head“No, all I heard from that was screaming while I got us lunch.”

You sigh and respond, “Babe he zero to deathed his opponent after reading their first assist correctly, and he only started playing Joe the Condor today.”

Hyeju looked at you then me confused as did the rest of the group.

“You just learned Joe today,” she inquired while being struck with bewilderment. I nod which causes James to ask me a very legitimate question.

“Wait why risk that at a paid tournament?”

I shrugged before answering with, “Because as soon as was in the same bracket side as Bon I was getting third place no matter what, so why not see how far I could push my limits?”

Hyeju looked at me with disgust, “How arrogant of you to think you can just waltz in a win a tournament on whim picks,”

I laughed and responded, “Hyeju we had to give you an advanced tech crash course when you told us you wanted to participate on a whim, despite only playing occasionally with us. I don't want to hear about me doing anything competition-wise on a whim. I am always competition-ready.” this made Hyeju go quiet. Arin bless her heart sensed the tension in my heart and grabbed my hand. Her touch as always was a soothing wave cooling off the plasmidic heat that I felt. It worked until Hyeju feeling her ego hurt said

“Okay, then Daizo if you're so great how about a friendly exhibition match?” I heard Arin’s sigh and knew that either I or Hyeju was going to revive a lecture later but honestly, she already blooded the water by doubting me and further pushed me with an official challenge. So when we got to y’all place I was nearly delirious with anticipation.

I beat Hyeju 25-1. We could have stopped at 13-0 but the part of me that y'all don't like demanded I beat her more. Thankfully before I could make Hyeju cry Arin and you stopped me.

“Okay, Disaster that's enough. You have proved your supremacy and I don't think Hye can take anymore,” Your sad tone reaches me and I come out of that dark place. Arin and I go back to our shared apartment leaving you to comfort the almost in-tears and shocked Hyeju on your shared couch. You cuddle next to your girlfriend who's a little grumpy that I beat her,

“I can't believe Daizo’s so mean,” she said with an adorable pout you smile and nestle closer.

“Come on babe you went after him and he responded. Be glad we stopped it before you went 1-29,” you say

Hyeju is just revving up though, “It's just…(you shut her up with an impassioned kiss) uh babe no fair.”

You roll deeper into your make-out session with your bombshell of a girlfriend. When you break it, her wolf-like eyes are full of lust. You smile as she lifts her shirt revealing her bountiful bust. You grope her tits as the two and make out

“Oh,” she moans as an errant hand of hers wanders down to your crotch. When she finds her prize you gasp.

“Fuck Hye warn a guy,” you say but Hyeju smiles before stroking you a little bit and falling into another kiss.

“But jagiya I'm so wet for you,” Hyeju says before lining up with your ride and sliding tortuously down your rod. You groaned at her unrelenting tightness. Her folds envelop you as Hyeju moans,

Hyenu smiles as she takes you in, “God I love your massive cock. I could ride it all day,” she says with a selfish smile. She pushes your chest down as she begins to ride you roughly, her folds tearing into your cock like the rabid predator(your words not mine) she was. She looks down at her favorite prey. You. She smiles and then begins her ritual whenever she's on top.

“You love my wolfy pussy don't you Jagiya? The way my flesh craves you. The way my pussy molds itself to your cock. How I ride you till you can't help but cum in my perfect pussy. Come on baby cum for me! I need it right now.” Hyeju’s sultry sex voice always does a number on you and in combination with her pussy when she calls you her “large lion” you cum instantly as she has trained your dick to do so. You moan as cum fills her walls and Hyeju smiles, but she isn't done though. She gets up off of you and her pussy spills your load back onto your crotch. You groan getting ready to get up until Hyeju lies in front of you and begins to use her chest to get another load out of you.

“Why waste all this perfectly good cum,” she says as she wraps her tits around your cock. You scream at the pleasure emanating from your union. Hyeju howls as she continues to rub her lubricated breasts around your cock. Her sensitive tits cause her to be near her release.

“Go on make a mess of me Lionheart. Cum all over my slutty face. paint me! Come on do it. Please cum,” Hyeju yells as she eggs on your orgasm hoping to get hers from being covered in your cum. To coax the biggest load possible she wraps her tongue around your cock as she gives you her messiest tit/blowjob. She slobbers all over your cock watching you squirm and write until

“Hye Im cumming,” you moan as you erupt over her face like a volcano. Your cum flies everywhere on her: her face tits hair lips you name it it's there. Hyeju smiles before standing up and fingering herself to get herself off having gotten her cum kink satisfaction. As your cum rolls down her body and she touches herself to the mess she's made of you and herself she squirts all over you. You lap up what you can and let lay down next to you. A messy (and wet) picture-perfect scene

“You good now babe,” you ask. Hyeju nods and languidly strokes your cock, not to get you off but just because like toying with you.

“I needed that,” she says before kissing you. Her cum drenched lips are oddly pleasant.

“Fuck Hye you put your game face on,” you tease and Hyeju rolls her eyes before you give her another unexpected load.

[syn4k]

anyways it sucks that nano said that about ai generated writing but im broke so im not gonna be giving them money in either case.

my approach to this is going to be: in my creative writing class, one of our midterm grades is to compete in one of three writing related contests, one of which is NaNoWriMo. HOWEVER, since our class has a high percentage of disabled people (both physically and mentally) who are incredibly prone to burnout when it comes to participating in traditional NaNo, our teacher (also disabled so she Gets It) edited the challenge slightly this year to make it easier for us to participate.

instead of writing 40,000 words in one month, our goal is to write 10,000 words a month for four months, starting in August and ending with 40k at the end of November. this is much more manageable and realistic for us, it still provides a challenge, and it also means the participants write an entire novel in four months, which is still a big deal for obvious reasons especially considering the majority of the class are very much amateur writers.

i've adopted this much more relaxed model while writing salt & the sea and will probably continue to use it next year regardless of if our teacher keeps it in the rotation for our midterm grade or not. if traditional nano has been too exhausting/intimidating for you in previous years for whatever reason like it has been for me, you're welcome to join me in participating in this unofficial offshoot of it!

another thing: i am a fast writer. i write a lot and i write very quickly. however, due to burnout, depression, the time of year that NaNo happens in, and a couple other things, 40k words in one month is a goal that i simply cannot hit in any way without hurting myself a LOT right now and that's okay. Reaching a goal means nothing if you destroy yourself in the process of getting there. It's okay to make a huge challenge easier for yourself in order to accommodate for your own disabilities, workflow, etc. or even just so that you aren't put off trying in the first place!

I don't have a name yet for this edited NaNo challenge and it probably won't go anywhere which is okay but I'm thinking of referring to it as Mini NaNo, Mitosis NaNo, or something else that preferably emphasizes it's an unofficial offshoot of the challenge.

(my) monthly goals:

Start: Aug 1st (you can dust off an old draft or concept if you'd like)

August 31st: 10,000 words

September 30th: 20,000 words

October 31st: 30,000 words

November 30th: 40,000 words

Current word count as of Sep. 2nd (started this draft on May 30th, I know, I cheated a bit): ~19,000

wish me luck!

[calisources]

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒.

All of these sentences are mostly taking by my own mind and i'm not joking. It was hard finding material quotes regarding tournaments in historical or fantasy setting. Some are from shows or media but eighty percent is all from my own mind, please give credit if use these. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit. All of these involve the medieval event of a tournament and what happens around them.

I fear I am already bending far too many rules just by taking you, my young princess.

Show me your hands, you will have blisters soon.

Lady Eglantine doesn’t believe in love, only lust.

In the world of competition, only the strongest shall prevail.

A true champion is not defined by their victories, but by the obstacles they've overcome.

Victory is sweetest when it's earned through sweat, hard work, and determination.

Will you not participate in the tourney, my lord? 

May I have the honor of wearing your favor today, my lady?

Good luck to you, my Prince.

The tournament is not just a test of skill, but a test of character as well.

Is it always this bloody? Will those poor men die? Someone must see them.

I want him to wear my favor.  Only him. 

If he wins, the knight has the right to name his Queen of Love and Beauty. And at the feast, they shall dance.

Be careful. A tourney is a grand place for courtly love, but also, for blood to rise and affairs to appear.

Call me what you like, say I'm without honor, I don't care. I'm not getting on any more horses to whack you people with a stick.

Kings may be chosen by God, but they still make the mistakes of men.

When even those who rule can sink this low, it is not possible to change anything.

It's my lucky charm, be sure to bring it back to me.

My favorite blue ribbon. Take it.

It will bring you good fortune and you will return from joust unharmed.

I was hoping to ask for the Princess's favor.

How about a kiss, for luck?

Courtly love was the culture around the performance of love at court.

And now, rather than admit these feelings, you're dancing around one another with this mind-numbing and frankly boorish mating ritual.

The knights take on the duties of shadows with pride.

Whoever wins the tournament, shall become the prince/princess’ new betrothed.

You want to marry my daughter? Prove yourself worthy.

Petyr survived only because I begged Brandon not to kill him.

When Petyr heard of my engagement, he challenged Brandon to a duel. 

You do qualify to marry my daughter.

What matters most is who she will give her favor to. 

Her face is one that can create dynasties or crumble empires.

I was hoping for a word before you rode on the tourney, my Prince. 

My brother is the one competing against you, please be gentle with him.

The games are done for the day, please, feast and drink as you wish. 

You have been staring all day, my lord. I was beginning to wonder if I had something in my face.

Any damsel that's in distress - she'll be out of that dress when she meets Jim West.

Great men do not seek power... they have power thrust upon them.

My daughter seems. . .infatuated with you. I have yet to see why.

The princess is naive and thinks any man who is kind means well. A tournament will only show her the reality of life.

You honor the arena with your combat. May your swords and shield preserve the peace.

In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining.

I will be brave for Princess Pea.

As a squire, your first duty is to your knight’s armor. Your knight’s armor is more important than your own life. 

You will be knighted and you will have earned your knighthood.

You are hurt. At least let me tend to your wound.

The men laugh and fight and the ladies search for husbands.

Nothing like a good tournament to find a husband, or a companion for the night. 

Rumors are always spread with ease in these.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?

You say I'll never get your blessing till the day I die.

We're married now, but we still haven't told your dad. This is the right time.

Are you promised to someone?

My sister's getting married. It's a love match. A rare thing. I’m not so lucky. My husband is to be chosen by who can hold a sword the longer.

Why can’t women participate in the games?

There are games for the ladies, Your Grace. But they are less. . .gruesome. And of course, the dancing.

Princes and Princess all over the realm and across the sea are coming for this event. You must shine brighter.

Let me help you with your armor. It appears loose.

As I promised, I return your favor to you, my lady. 

The Prince never loses a joust. He will crown his queen and then all will be well.

I do not understand the appeal of this. 

I spend days making these favors, let me stay a little longer.

My lady, I do not need your favor to win, but perhaps, a kiss of good faith. 

I do not care who wins these games, your hand is already arranged for another.

Men are scoundrel, specially when blood runs hot after a good battle, stray away from them.

These games are done in honor of the king’s heir.

The lord’s daughter is said to have bloomed, and the man chooses to announce it like this. 

A tournament is for men to boost their strength, fathers sell their daughters like mares and for affairs to happen.

I saw you on the stands today, my lord. But you did not participate on the games.

My brother wishes to dance with you, my lady. He is all too shy to ask himself.

You were injured. Have you allowed someone to heal them or are you too stubborn to let them?

Princess, you must not stray too far away. 

Mother is too drunk and annoyed to care, she won’t mind. 

[firstkanaphans]

Safe House, Season 4: FK moments you might have missed (Day 5)

Before I dive into the FK-specific moments from this episode, I want to briefly address the fallout from Foei and White’s comments the night before. Their apology is still available on YouTube in its entirety, which is ironic considering they removed the actual incident, so now it just looks like they’re apologizing for nothing. You can read a full translation of the apology here.

I also paid extra close attention to both First and Khaotung’s interactions with Foei and White in the aftermath because I’ve seen some people say that Khao in particular acted annoyed by them, but in all honesty, I couldn’t tell a difference. Neither First nor Khaotung gave any indication that they were upset by what happened. This is not meant to excuse what Foei did or even to suggest that there wasn’t animosity lingering under the surface, but they kept it civil in the house and I don’t think it serves anyone well to insinuate that Khaotung was on some sort of revenge quest when he was actually super chill and professional. 

But now, hopefully, I am done talking about Foei and White forever.

First was in an exceptionally good mood this morning and was up almost as soon as the wake-up call went off. He tried to wake Khaotung to no avail.

He eventually gives up and goes to help Fourth wake the rest of the house instead. (Please check out this gif set of Fourth’s attempts to wake some of the younger boys because it’s one of my favorite things on this website.) And although we don't get to see Fourth try to wake Khaotung, he does come back into the room and complain to First, “P’Khaotung won’t wake up.” To which First responds, “He won't wake up? Fine. I’ll do it naa.” And then instead of actually trying to wake him up, he just crawls back into bed with him 😂

The morning challenge involved the contestants trying to catch a piece of toast in their mouths. First was down an arm, so Khaotung worked the toaster for him during several of his attempts. This also led to one of my all-time favorite Safe House moments:

The fact that Khao just takes it. Out of his bestie’s mouth. Without question. Insanity.

The afternoon session opens with Khaotung making coffee. First is teasing him for saying a bad word, which Khao swears he didn’t say. You can watch the video and read a full translation of that clip here.

I’d always assumed Khao was making the coffee for himself, but he put the cup in front of First’s place at the lunch table and then they both drank out of it. You know. Just bestie things.

After that, there was another pool challenge that First couldn’t participate in. He still did his best to have fun, though.

That night during dinner, they are given desserts with flowers in them. Khaotung and First both spend the entire meal trying to secretly stick them on each other.

(via)

After dinner, everyone plays “Never Have I Ever” while waiting for production to set up their next challenge. Whenever someone loses, they have to do push-ups. This was Khao’s attempt.

And the aftermath:

Later that same night is when the infamous pillow-sniffing happens. First and Khao are sitting on the couch together. Khao gets up and, without missing a beat, First reaches for the pillow he had been holding and sniffs it.

Fourth is immediately like “bro, you good?” and although we can’t actually hear them, I can only assume that First tries to justify his actions in some way because the next thing you know, Fourth is sniffing the pillow too. You can watch the full video here.

I know people say “there’s no heterosexual explanation for this” about things that do, in fact, have a heterosexual explanation, but this is gay AF. Like? First, honey. Stand up.

Almost a whole hour of the evening session is just the cast watching The Eclipse on an iPad. (Really, GMMTV? An iPad? There was no way for you to cast it onto an actual TV?) At one point, First gets up and smacks Khaotung with a pillow over something Aye did. You can watch it here. I tried to gif it, but it looks overly violent in gif form because First knocks over a picture frame and everyone freaks out.

And then finally, our two favorite besties get into another squabble during the evening interviews. Khaotung playfully pushes First and First says, “Everyone, please take note that I am not usually the one who teases him.” Then Khao pulls him off screen.

Sorry this got so long. They were extra gay today.

[midwestgp]

Hello! After a good few weeks of combing through lots of data, I have coherent numbers for your viewing pleasure. This whole thing birthed from the hypothesis that past BTS fans now liked Charles and quickly grew from there. I am happy to say that many of my suspicions were confirmed and some surprises arose along the way. Thank you to everyone who participated and took the time to relive some great or not-so-great memories. Enjoy!

Some Notes Before Hand:

Combing through this data was a bit challenging. I tried to find data points that most fans would find interesting. To help give myself some sort of a guide I chose one of the top subjects in each category and analyzed the data attached to them. I will probably look back into this stuff more in the future, but trying to find points for everyone is a wild goose chase. That being said, if you notice something I do not, please let me know! I want to hear what you all think that's why I made this :)

Favorite Drivers (current grid):

So this was a bit surprising, but I think it was caused mainly by my wording. According to this graph, out of 346 users, Oscar Piastri is currently the most popular driver by a long shot. While I do think Oscar is very well loved, I do not think this is true at all. Because I allowed participants to choose more than one driver it became less of a true ranking and more "these are the drivers people think most positively of currently". I think if I asked everyone to pick one person Oscar would not be at the top and more likely around the 3rd-5th range. Other than Oscar it is also important to note my audience certainly had an effect on the results. Things are probably skewed slightly towards other drivers than they are realistically, but I still think this is pretty close.

For the future keep the numbers up here in mind and our top three, Oscar, Charles and Max, will be important. All pipelines are based off and cross referenced with this data set.

Drivers on Past Grids:

No surprises here! I did not do any pipelines attached to any of the data on this graph so this question was just for fun.

Anime and Manga:

Sports anime! Competition! Yippee! This is about exactly what I thought would happen. It makes perfect sense that the sports anime is popular in the sport community. Also, it was really fun reading some of your less than enthusiastic previous fandom experiences and memories.

Pipelines:

31/69 Haikyuu!! fans said that Max was one of their favorite drivers.

Also chances are that if you watched Haikyuu!! you also watched My Hero Academia because 29/69 Haikyuu!! fans also clicked My Hero Academia.

Max was the most popular person in this category as a whole and that does not shock me even slightly.

Favorite Characters:

Izuku Midoriya and Bakugou Katsuki from My Hero Academia

Tobio Kageyama from Haikyuu!!

Russia from Hetalia

L from Death Note

Levi Ackerman from Attack On Titan

Saiki K. from The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

Literature:

I probably have the least commentary on this section. A lot of the books I love don't have dedicated fan bases attached to them (I wish they did) so I needed help when making this question. I have no clue what a lot of these are but I'm glad that you all enjoyed them.

Pipelines:

My Hypothesis for this was "are past Harry Potter fans more likely to like drivers with British accents?"

100/152 Harry Potter fans said that either Lando, Lewis, George or Alex was one of their favorite drivers. Considering that none of these drivers are in our top three I'd say I was correct.

Favorite Characters:

Draco from Harry Potter

Newt from The Maze Runner

Kili from The Hobbit

Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice

Percy Jackson from Percy Jackson

Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games

Alice Cullen from Twilight

Comics, Cartoons, Graphic Novels:

I was not previously aware of the amount of comic and graphic novel fans in Flblur! I thought at first that these numbers were coming from MCU and DCU fans (some them surely but that's besides the point), but after consulting my council (princess george cord) I quickly learned that there are a lot of comic fans.

Pipelines:

When looking at the Marvel Comics numbers, this was one of the most diverse sections when comparing it to favorite drivers. This group leaned more towards the middle of the pack rather than our top three.

That being said Max and Lewis were our most popular contenders here. 36/93 Marvel Comics fans liked Max and 33/93 Marvel Comics fans liked Lewis.

I personally feel like this makes a ton of sense.

Favorite Characters:

Lance, Keith, Shiro and Pidge from Voltron: Legendary Defender

Zuko and Katara from Avatar: The Last Airbender

Dipper and Mable Pines from Gravity Falls

Garnet from Steven Universe

Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Bucky Barnes and Deadpool from Marvel Comics

Fluttershy from My Little Pony

Fandom RPF (no music):

Looking at this section now, my labels could be a bit confusing. Chances are if you are a fan of a person in the Minecraft RPF category they also probably fit into both the YouTuber RPF and Streamer RPF categories. I made these separate from each other based on if I felt they had enough history and content to overpower other names who would fall in there. Phandom has so much history at this point that if I bunched it in with Youtuber RPF it would kind of feel disrespectful (and I wasn't even involved in it). Anyways, I decided to focus on Minecraft RPF for the pipeline in this section just because I felt like I could analyze it more closely even though it isn't the top spot.

Pipelines:

So my hypothesis for this section was that the fans of Minecraft RPF would generally be more attracted to the younger people on the grid, like 2019 rookies and onward.

Something stood out very quickly and it was the amount of Logan and Oscar fans. The numbers aren't staggering or anything, but there's certainly a pipeline here.

23/62 Logan fans like Minecraft RPF and 49/197 Oscar fans liked Minecraft RPF. As a pairing, 16 Minecraft RPF fans liked both. Now this probably doesn't seem like a lot, but if you compare it with Lando's numbers (because Lando and Oscar is Oscar's most popular pairing) its kinda clear there's something different here. Only 18/88 Lando fans were previously Minecraft RPF fans.

Favorite People:

Dan and Phil

Technoblade

Ranboo

Markiplier

Smosh

Movie and Film:

It is not shock the amount of Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars and DC Universe fans there are in F1blur. I was a bit surprised by the lack of spread overall though, though who am I too judge I would really only attach myself to like two of these. Originally I did not want to look at the MCU in for this sections pipeline because I looked at the comics earlier, but the results were surprisingly different.

Pipelines:

Ok, so previously in the Marvel Comics section the two most popular people were Max and Lewis. Here things are a bit different though Max and Lewis and still popular.

The standouts here this time are Alex and Yuki! 41/88 Alex fans liked the MCU and 46/73 Yuki fans liked the MCU.

It is also worth mentioning that 93/167 Oscar fans liked the MCU too.

Favorite Characters:

Loki, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Black Widow and Peter Parker from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

Poe, Finn, Luke Skywalker, Obi Wan Kenobi and the Clones from Star Wars.

Merlin from Kingsman

Q from the James Bond Franchise

Music and Band RPF (no kpop):

I mean, it's what is says on the tin. One Direction being the most popular band in F1blur makes perfect sense, no comment. It also makes sense that Panic! At The Disco, My Chemical Romance, Twenty One Pilots and Fall Out Boy are so similar in numbers. I am kind of curious on how people interact with fandom spaces with some of these artists, but those are questions for another time.

Pipelines:

Although I did not poll anything to do with shipping, I am going to talk about it here. It did not shock me that Charles and Max were popular here.

53/143 Charles fans were One Direction fans and 51/130 Max fans were One Direction fans too.

28/108 One Direction Fans chose both Max and Charles. I am sort of pointing at possible Larry and Lestappen connections. Yeah.

Also lots of George and Lewis fans here.

Favorite People:

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles from One Direction

Gerard Way from My Chemical Romance

George Harrison from The Beatles

Luke Hemmings from Five Seconds of Summer

Kpop:

This is our smallest yes category...I will admit, I was shocked by the lack of Kpop fans from the poll. I assumed that because a lot of my F1 friends and moots were previous Kpop people that this would be similar for everyone else. I now see I am wrong. I am a little sad about it to be honest. Anyways, BTS was the most popular and no one bats an eye. Though I predicted EXO and Blackpink would have placed higher.

Pipelines:

I wanted to focus on Charles for this one because him and BTS is why I did this whole thing.

Would it surprise you if 1/5 Charles fans were also BTS fans? Because it's real and I think that's amazing.

I crave to know what this fraction of the Charles fandom thinks about Jungkook because I know it's not normal :).

Favorite People:

Kim Namjoon (RM), Min Yoongi (Suga) and Jeon Jungkook from BTS

Bangchan and Lee Know from Stray Kidz

Jennie from Blackpink

TV Shows:

This was our biggest yes category! The TV section has such a nice spread and it was one of the most fun sections to study in my opinion. I am not super into any TV Show fandoms so I also learned a lot here. These series are topics I will see in the trending tab, but know literal zero about. I am glad that you all seem to love these shows because that makes total sense since F1 is also TV.

Pipelines:

Ok so I don't know much about Sherlock. When trying to find a pipeline here I just took a lot of numbers from each driver and waited for something to stick.

Imagine my shock when the standout was Fernando! 23/71 Fernando fans also chose Sherlock. Thats about 32%. Middle aged men for the win.

Favorite Characters:

Stiles Stilinski from Teen Wolf

Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley from Stranger Things

Sam and Dean Winchester and Castiel from Supernatural

Hannibal Lector from Hannibal

The 10th, 11th and 12th Doctors from Doctor Who

Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens

Sherlock Holmes from Sherlock

Theater:

Ah yes... theater. If I could go back and redo this I would LOVE to know what extracurriculars everyone did in school because I think that would pair with all this so well. Again, it is not surprising that Hamilton is the fan favorite. Romance, competition, war, betrayal, it has it all and so does F1 (and Heathers too now that I think about it).

Pipelines:

I was practically flabbergasted by this section because it was immediately apparent that Hamilton fans go crazy for Oscar.

Out of the 91 people that said they were Hamilton fans... 74 of them also said they liked Oscar.

I do not know why this is. I thought George and Lewis were gonna be the stand outs here and they weren't. I'm a little bit confused, but at least you all sorta agree on something.

Favorite Characters:

Lafayette, John Laurens and Angelica Schuyler from Hamilton

JD and Veronica from Heathers

Enjolras and Grantaire from Les Misérables

Video Games:

Last Category, woo! Ok since I already focused on Minecraft and yapped on that a lot we are going to instead look at Detroit: Become Human. This section had the best spread overall which was nice to see. I knew the most about this section so I thought is was funny seeing how high Five Nights at Freddy's was. Though I forgot to add some of my own favorite games sadly. There's also probably a lot more pipelines here than I realize and I am sorry that I can't look into more of them.

Pipelines:

I knew coming in that Detroit: Become Human was going to be popular though I was surprised it beat out Five Night's At Freddy's.

I was not surprised though it find that George and Lewis were very popular amongst these fans.

16/43 Detroit: Become Human fans were fans of George and/or Lewis, the vast majority being both.

Favorite Characters:

Zelda and Link from The Legend of Zelda

Ghost and Soap from Call of Duty

Zagreus from Hades

Connor from Detroit: Become Human

Ganyu from Genshin Impact

Leon S. Kennedy from Resident Evil

Change In Pace: About You

So after asking all these fandom based questions I wanted to ask two about each individual: age and time spent watching. I think it's important to also study how time effects people in fandom and the fandom space as well.

Age:

For this section I looked at the average number of drivers picked during the first question. I predicted that the older you were, the less drivers you would say were your favorite and I was correct.

Below 18: 4.07 range: 1-10

18-22: 3.44 range: 1-9

23-25: 3.38 range: 1-13

26-29: 3.42 range: 1-10

30-35: 3.26 range: 1-6

36+: 2.53 range: 1-5

Time Watching F1:

I did the same analysis here as I did with the age question, so the longer you've been watching the less drivers you would say were your favorite. I was surprised by the amount of people who have been watching for less than a year (not that there's anything wrong with that). Also "My Whole Life" is a separate category because I figure it is at least 15+ and it has the added idea that F1 might be more than just a hobby to you. Finally, the orange and red are 10+(10 votes) and 15+ years (9 votes).

Less Than A Year: 3.58 , range: 1-10

1 Year: 3.62 , range: 1-11

2 Years: 3.34 , range: 1-13

3 Years: 3 , range: 1-7

4 Years: 4.19 , range: 1-9

5+ Years: 3.52 , range: 1-7

10+ Years: 3.7 , range: 2-7

15+ Years: 2.77 , range: 1-6

My Whole Life: 2.92 , range: 1-8

The End and Final Thoughts:

I am tired. This took probably 50-60 hours to do. I don't want to type anything or count Oscar's name ever again. Besides that, this was a lot of fun. Thank you to everyone who took part in this survey. Many of you left very nice and funny messages for me. Thank you to everyone who caught errors and let me know. Thank you to the wonderful people of princess George cord for their support and help. And thank you to anyone who actually reads this. I am very hungry.

If anyone notices any errors or inconsistencies please tell me and I will try my best to fix them. I am no scholar, but I really did try my best to make this as true as possible.

P.S - Thank you to Game Theory for being my background noise for the majority of this.

Midwestgp (koyya) <3

[jonquilyst]

Total Drama Sims: Season 2

That's right, baby! We're back. Is your teenaged sim bored and wanting something epic and awesome to do to spend their summer? Does your teenaged sim want a brush of fame and notoriety? Well, you've come to the right place. Total Drama Sims, the freshest, awesomest reality show on simblr, is back for a 2nd season, and I'm ready for you all to send 14 more teenagers to compete in crazy, wacky challenges (safety/lack of danger not guaranteed) in pursuit of the grand prize!

WHAT'S NEW THIS SEASON?

To keep things fresh, TDS2 will be set in a new location and will have new gameplay mechanics! TDS has claimed an abandoned film lot in Del Sol Valley because this season, our challenges will be based off of movie genres, just like the 2nd season of TDS's inspiration!

As for our new gameplay mechanics, TDS2 will be introducing a double elimination (two people are eliminated rather than one), a team swap elimination (someone is eliminated, but instead of leaving the game, the eliminated person joins the other team), and purge challenges (instead of a vote, the worst-performing contestant of a challenge is automatically eliminated) to mix things up and keep the game interesting!

I am primarily looking for people who did NOT participate last season, or their sim got out early. However, everyone may still participate! I just want as many people as possible to get a chance to have their sim play 💖 A lot of people were interested last time and unfortunately spots filled up so fast that some people weren't able to participate because of it (That being said, to promote transparency, I am now REQUIRING RESERVATIONS! That means if you want to participate, you MUST contact me before submitting your sim. You can do this by DM'ing me or sending an ask).

Read on for a refresher on what this competition is all about and UPDATED submission rules (so if you had a sim compete last season, make sure to read them again!)

THE GIST:

This competition is, obviously, based off of the Total Drama series (a show that’s near and dear to me), but you do not need any background knowledge of this show to participate! The show (and this competition) functions similarly to a Bachelor Challenge, where contestants will be routinely eliminated until there is a sole winner.

This competition will also focus on the contestants building relationships with each other (hence the drama part, which is bound to happen when you put 14 teenagers together!)

SUBMISSION RULES:

Reservations for spots are first-come-first-serve. If for any reason you'd like to give up your reservation, contact me ASAP so I can give that reservation to someone else!

Your sim must be a teen

If you had a sim compete last season, you may not resubmit that same sim. I'm looking for an all-new cast!

No occults; contestants must be human only (to prevent unfair advantages)

Contestants must not have high-level skills (they can have some level of skill but nothing above lvl 5; also to prevent unfair advantages)

Any amount and type of CC is fine, just make sure to include it when you send your sim over to me ^^

Only one outfit per category please

Must be okay with slight changes in sims' appearances (as I may use different mods/presets than you do)

Must be okay with me writing dialogue for your sims (for confessionals (example from last season here). I read all entries down to the word and will try my very best to keep everyone in their intended character)

Must be okay with the possibility of your sim entering romantic relationships with other sims (PLEASE SPECIFY THEIR SEXUALITY/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. Sims with unspecified sexualities/romantic orientations will be assumed to be pan). Nothing NSFW will be shown or mentioned, as of course I'll be portraying minors, but please let me know if you don't want your sim to enter any romantic relationships!

Please give your sims a backstory. The more detailed the better. Describe what they're like, why they're competing on Total Drama Sims, etc.

Your sim can have any traits/aspirations

HERE IS HOW THE COMPETITION WILL WORK:

The 14 contestants will be split into 2 teams of 7

The 2 teams will compete in challenges in attempt to win invincibility (safety from being voted off). The losing team will have to vote someone off (the winning team will not be part of voting)

This process continues until 7 contestants remain. Afterwards the teams dissolve and everyone competes individually (this is known as merge). This means that only 1 contestant can win invincibility; everyone else will be at risk for elimination

When merge occurs, all eliminated contestants at that point will be eligible to rejoin the game through a special challenge. The winner of that challenge will rejoin the game (bringing the number of contestants back to 8)

This process again continues until 2 contestants remain. In the finale, all eliminated contestants will vote for a winner

Challenges will occur half the time. The other half of the competition will be socialization days, where contestants are free to socialize with each other as they please

The competition will start with a socialization day first to establish relationships before the first challenge

If the numbers between teams get too uneven, then a team swap will occur to one random contestant on the larger team

Voting will be determined by relationship dynamics and how everyone did in the challenge. Contestants who do poorly are more likely to get voted. Contestants who have a negative relationship with each other are also more likely to get voted. Conversely contestants who have a positive relationship with each other are less likely to get voted. The contestant with the most votes at the end is eliminated. All of this will be determined by a spinner (in case of a tie I will use a random number generator to determine who’s out). This will also determine who wins at the end of the competition.

REWARD FOR THE WINNER:

This competition is mostly for the funsies, but whoever wins this competition will personally receive an actual reward from me! You have a choice between the following options:

Discord Nitro for 1 month

A tumblr badge

NO DEADLINE! Submissions will close when all 14 spots are filled/reserved. Please provide your sim's tray files as soon as convenient! (Lmk if you need help with this. I will teach you if you don't know how!)

I will be updating the number of spots reserved periodically and will announce when all 14 spots are taken, but if you're ever unsure, don't be afraid to DM me/send an ask!

That should be it! Please comment, DM me, or send an ask if you have any questions, and feel free to reblog or share this with anyone who might be interested in participating!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hello ❤️ I know you’re back home and I think are doing these on an as-you-can basis. If you’re just completely done, let me know! But I got in my feelings today about always being the third wheel and of course my brain wants to whump Steve about it, so here’s two lines from a conversation I had with a friend:

“When do I stop being a last resort?”

And

“When will I get people who care the way I care?”

Again, if you’re not doing these any more, that’s completely fine! Just thought I’d submit these in case you are. Feel free to use one or the other, or both! ❤️

Hello my star ✨ I am technically not doing them, but it kinda sounds like we both maybe need this one and I'm gonna use this a lowkey plug for everyone to consider participating in the @steddiemicrofic challenge. I'm going with the first one because I believe that even at Steve's lowest, he knows he has Robin to care about him a whole lot ❤️

----------

When the dust settles, when everyone seems to find a new rhythm, when they don't always look over their shoulder and wait for the next world-ending crisis, Steve finds himself alone a lot.

When Robin leaves for college, he finds himself alone most of the time.

The kids are back in school, everyone except Jonathan and Eddie have gone off to college, and those two seem to get along just fine without Steve inserting himself into their friendship.

They still come hang out with him sometimes, usually when they wanna rent a movie using his discount, or if Eddie wants to borrow his dining room for Hellfire.

The worst part is he says yes, puts a smile on his face, pretends he's happy just to get some attention, any attention.

And he is a little happy. Some attention is better than none, especially for a lonely person like him.

He watched everyone around him have each other, while he has himself.

He talks to Robin every other night, but he feels like he's burdening her, but would never say that. He just waits for her to stop answering the calls.

It all comes to a head one evening when Eddie is over at his house late, still cleaning up after Hellfire.

Steve had a bad week at work, customers just being rude over nothing, a migraine two days in a row, and now Eddie dragging his feet to leave.

The worst part? He didn't want him to leave.

Just the thought of another night alone had him tearing up.

He made sure to stay facing away from Eddie, unable to stop the tears from falling, but at least able to stay quiet.

Not quiet enough.

"Steve? What's wrong?"

He sounded so concerned.

"Nothing. Just a little overtired. Head still hurts a little. You know how it is."

He couldn't quite laugh it off, the sound more of a choked sob than anything.

Eddie's hands were on his shoulders, turning him around so he had no choice but to look at him, his worried gaze more than Steve expected.

"What's actually wrong?"

So much.

"When do I stop being a last resort?"

He hadn't meant to say that. He certainly didn't expect Eddie's reaction: pulling him close to his chest, his grip on his back and hair enough to make Steve sink into it.

He hadn't been hugged since Robin left for college.

"What do you mean? You're not a last resort."

"I'm no one's first choice. You only come here because I have the most room. The kids only ever call if they need a ride somewhere. I think at this point Robin only talks to me so she knows I'm alive."

The words were hard to get out but he did it. He felt slightly better just knowing he'd said them.

"Fuck. We've- I've been so stupid."

Steve pulled away.

"I just thought you wanted your space. We're done fighting monsters, so you can go back to just being Steve Harrington. I don't think any of us thought you still wanted to be around us. But we've taken what we thought we could get."

"What? Why would anyone think that?"

"Because you only got involved in all this protect people. Now you don't have to."

"I protected everyone because I cared. Why would I just stop caring?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds stupid."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Because it is stupid."

"So you do want us around?"

"Yes! I thought no one wanted me around anymore since they didn't need me."

Eddie shook his head, disappointment settling over him.

"That's so far from the truth. Dustin was upset the other day because he was convinced you were going to start telling him no when he asked for rides and he didn't know how else to see you."

Steve let it sink in, the words and the way Eddie still hadn't let go of him completely, still had his hands resting on his lower back as Steve looked up at him.

"For a smart kid, he sure is dumb."

Eddie laughed loudly, smiling down at Steve as some of the tension released from his body.

"I guess we all are."

"Including me."

"You're very loved, Steve. By all of us."

"All of you?"

"Yes. All."

[fandoms-are-my-friends-1321]

Clueless is an Understatement

This may not be the original idea for Rayne that I had, but at the same time, it is an extremely adorable request that I could not refuse! Plus it allows me to try and write a character that is similar to Mash (I love his brainless antics). I hope that you enjoy this fanfic @jennapancake! Thank you again for the request! Gifs are not mine.

Summary: Y/N Burnedead, Mash's older sibling, followed him to Easton Magic Academy to help protect him on his quest to become a divine visionary. Along the way, they caught the attention of Rayne Ames, who is absolutely smitten by Y/N. The only problem: Y/N does not know how to take a hint.

Warnings: reader has some small injuries, mentions of blood, otherwise none (but if I miss something let me know!)

In a world where magic users dominate the population, there were two non-magic users who were hoping to change their fates and prove that magic was not the only thing that made a person worthy in the eyes of higher powers. The first one was Mash Burnedead: a boy who relied only on his powerful muscles in order to become the divine visionary and allow his family to live in peace. The other is Y/N Burnedead, Mash's older sibling who is also a non-magic user and just as strong as their younger brother. Y/N knew that Mash would face a lot of dangerous challenges and potentially evil foes during his time at Easton Magic Academy, so they took it upon themselves to take the entrance exam as well and help Mash on his quest.

At first, many of the other students wondered why a person as old as Y/N waited so long to join the academy, but they made up the excuse that they were simply too nervous to participate in the entrance exam until now. Of course this was far from the case due to Y/N's trust in their own muscular strength, but it was a necessary lie to keep people off of their backs. Y/N and Mash only allowed trusted friends to know their non-magic status, or the more accurate truth, they all found out after the battle with the Magia Lupis.

"Dude, I still can't believe you have no magic power at all! That is total side character ener-," Y/N smacked Dot across the face before he could finish his sentence.

"And yet you let a side character show you up," Y/N said as they dusted off their uniform. Y/N walked over to Mash and ruffled his hair, causing him to mumble as he tried to fix it. "Come on, you know I don't like my hair being messed with, Y/N."

"I couldn't help it, little brother. You are just too precious sometimes," Y/N said in a monotone and yet excited voice. "Don't forget we have our workout scheduled for 3 today after my classes are finished, and I can't wait to out rep you today."

Mash shook his head from side to side. "Only in your dreams, sibling."

Despite being a first year, Y/N managed to be placed in some upper level courses at Easton, one of which being the Study of Magical Creatures. Rayne Ames, a current divine visionary and the older sibling of Y/N and Mash's friend Finn, also helped to pull some strings for the older Burnedead. It's not that he doubted their prowess, and if anything, it was their power that Rayne admired along with their beauty and talents. However, some of the professors were still skeptical of Y/N and Mash when it came to their "magic" abilities, so he offered his support in their favor.

Today's class would be taking place outside in one of the open pastures by the school, with today's lesson involving herding and calming wild Wrivian's, horse-dragon hybrids that were the size of a small cottage. Rayne was waiting patiently for Y/N to arrive for class, and he caught himself checking his robe for any stray crumbs from lunch. He never used to worry about his appearance since he is usually well-kept, and yet ever since he met Y/N, he felt the need to look even more pristine when he knew they would be around.

Not that Y/N would notice the small details to begin with...

Y/N arrived a few minutes before class began, and Rayne waved at them as they approached. "Good afternoon, Y/N. Are you ready for today's class?" Rayne stated with a slight smile.

Y/N clenched their fist as they took on a fighting pose. "I was born ready, Rayne. Any challenge that these Wrivian's bring, I will take each one down with my fist."

Rayne let out a chuckle as he moved to stand beside them. "I thought you would say something along those lines."

The professor explained the task to the students, making sure to reiterate that no harm should be brought to any of the Wrivian's or they would fail the assignment. All the students broke off into pairs, which would make wrangling the beasts an easy task, but Y/N and Rayne faced more difficulties. Rayne used frontal attacks with Partisan to deflect the fiery breath from the Wrivian, the creature's emerald scales flexing as it weaved expertly through the air. Y/N took more of a distraction approach as they waited for the right time to strike.

"Y/N, they have a blind spot if you move to the right! Now is the time to tame this beast! Remember, avoid harm at all costs!" Rayne instructed as he launched the silvery swords of Partisan one last time.

"Kay', taming magic activate!" Y/N shouted the fake spell as they squatted and leaped into the air, easily reaching the Wrivian hovering in the sky. Y/N grabbed the Wrivian around it's broad neck, the rough texture of the scales cutting into their hands as their weight brought them and the creature back down to the ground. The cloud of dust and the immense crash had Rayne worried, not so much about failing the assignment but for Y/N's safety. I really have fallen for them, Rayne thought as he dashed to the scene. He expected to see the Wrivian knocked out from Y/N's brute strength, but Rayne was shocked to see that the creature did not have a scratch on it. If anything, it seemed quite happy as it expertly stole a cream puff from Y/N's cloak.

"Hey, that's my afternoon cream puff," Y/N whined at first as they looked up at the beast with a minor frown, but as the Wrivian let out a whinny at the sweet treat, Y/N sighed in defeat as their head drooped. "Then again, it seems to be making you pretty happy too."

Rayne gasped as he knelt down by Y/N, who was too distracted by the loss of their cream puff to notice the crimson liquid dripping from their hands. Rayne placed his hands on Y/N's forearms and lifted them up, his cheeks dusting with pink as he felt the muscles under their cloak. "You're hurt, Y/N. Please, let me take you to the infirmary and help bandage your wounds."

Y/N looked down at their hands and blinked. "Oh, looks like I am bleeding, huh? Oopsies." Rayne playfully rolled his eyes at Y/N's unawareness as he helped them to their feet, an arm wrapping protectively around their waist despite Y/N's ability to walk. Y/N's brows furrowed as they looked at Rayne. "Why is your arm around my waist if I can walk?"

"Just a precaution to make sure that you have no underlying injuries," Rayne replied.

"But you can see me walking, Rayne? Are you sure I need assistance?"

The two students finally arrived at the infirmary, and Y/N sat on one of the medical beds while Rayne treated their wounds. He started by cleaning the cuts and applying alcohol to the wounds, causing Y/N to flinch. "Ouchie, that burns a little." Rayne only smiled as his golden eyes remained filled with adoration. Once Y/N was all bandaged up, Rayne laid a kiss on each of their hands. "There, you should be fully healed in a few days."

Y/N tilted their head. "Was that a magic healing spell? Can you teach it to me?"

Rayne smirked as he ruffled his blonde streaked hair. "I could probably teach you the spell over dinner. Would you care to join me?"

"Well I would, but Mash and the others always go to dinner with me on this day of the week. I am making cream puff this evening, if you wanted to join, and the others would be happy to see you." Y/N rambled as they tapped their chin.

"We can bring the cream puff to them when we are finished, but I need your full attention to teach you this spell," Rayne said as he tried to find a way to spend time alone with Y/N. He adored the others yes, especially his brother Finn, but he had longed to ask Y/N on a date for some time now. There was something about them that was charming and adorable, and Rayne could not resist them. Y/N's eyes widened as they absorbed Rayne's words. "Ohh that makes more sense. I will see you then, Rayne." With that, Y/N hopped off the medical bed and left with a brief wave as Rayne started to devise a game plan for tonight.

............................................................................................................................

Rayne arrived at the dorm kitchens around the time Y/N had specified, a bouquet of their favorite flowers in hand. He entered the kitchen and was greeted by Y/N wearing a frilly apron that matched the one that Mash typically wore. They were currently whisking the eggs for the cream puffs with calculated precision. Rayne smiled as he leaned over the counter and presented the flowers to Y/N. "I brought these for you, Y/N, and I hope that you will enjoy them."

Y/N halted their whisking and took the flowers from Rayne, eagerly sniffing the fresh blooms. "These smell like the flowers back home, but I don't know if they will taste good in the cream puffs."

"They won't be going in the cream puffs, you dork. They are for you to look at and admire from afar." Rayne explained as he conjured up a glass vase. Y/N let out an exclamation of excitement as they tapped the vase to see if it was real before going back to whisking. Rayne rested his head in his hand as he watched Y/N make the cream puffs from memory. While the cream puffs were baking, Rayne took this as a sign to make his feelings known. "I am excited to try these delicious cream puffs, but I have no doubt that they will not be as sweet as you are."

"I always put four cups of sugar into the dough, and along with this custard cream, they will be the perfect amount of sweetness." Y/N assured as they plopped down in the seat next to Rayne. They perked up as they remembered the conversation they had with Rayne earlier. "Oh, you said you would teach me that healing spell? Unlike my brother, I can learn things pretty quickly."

An idea materialized in Rayne's head as he pretended to pop his knuckles. "Luckily, this spell does not require a wand like most spells, and I believe that you have the abilities and strength to master this spell in no time. Firstly, you take the hands of the person that you want to heal." Rayne turned to face Y/N as they took their hands in his, the bandages from earlier soft to the touch, but Rayne wished he could feel Y/N's actual hands instead. Y/N continued to absorb the instructions like a sponge as they replied with a "got it".

"Next, you approach the subject closer so you can determine the state of their injuries." Rayne closed the gap between him and Y/N until their face's were inches apart, allowing him to admire all of the amazing features of Y/N's face. He swore that no deity could be more gorgeous than them. Y/N nodded as they maintained eye contact with Rayne and made sure to process each step clearly. "Finally," Rayne started as he placed a hand on Y/N's cheek, "You perform the healing spell." Before Rayne could complete his plan, the loud ding of the oven interrupted him, and Y/N shot up from their seat faster than a lightning strike. "Cream puffs are done!" They shouted excitedly.

Y/N finalized the delicious treats and handed the first ones to Rayne. He bit into the pastry and hummed with delight as Y/N ate their portion of the cream puffs in a few gulps. "These are perfect, Y/N, and I must admit that this would make for a perfect date," Rayne said as he smiled more than he had in months. Y/N was once again confused.

"Isn't that a type of fruit?"

"Yes, you are correct, but it is also the time spent between two individuals that care about each other as a way to show affection for one another. Y/N Burnedead, I care about you more and more each and every day, and I would destroy every evil force in this magical realm if it means that you are safe by my side. I would be yours if that is what you wish, but if you need more time, I understand completely." Rayne blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck, but Y/N still could not see the full picture.

"I could help you beat up the villains instead, but I would need to focus on more bicep training first. Maybe Mash would know-," Y/N's sentence was cut short as Rayne gently pressed his lips against theirs as his hand returned to caress their cheek once again. Y/N did not fully understand what to do, but they did enjoy the feeling of Rayne being so close to them. When Rayne pulled away, the realization of his words and actions finally set in, and Y/N turned as red as the strawberries they used in the cream puffs. Y/N's brain started to short circuit as the affection became to much. "I-I-I guess that t-t-this makes us a, makes us a..."

Rayne kissed Y/N's cheek as a genuine laugh rumbled in his chest. "Yes, this makes us a couple, if that is what you desire. There is no one in all of Easton that would make a better match for a divine visionary."

Y/N could not help but smile as they fiddled with their hands. "I-I would like that very much."

Bonus:

"Did you save some cream puffs for me?"

"Of course, I always save the perfect ones for my favorite little sibling." Y/N handed over the cream puffs to Mash as he excitedly munched on the pastries. Lemon and Finn had just entered the room, and Lemon could not help but squeal as she nudged Y/N with her elbow. "And I heard that Y/N made cream puffs with the Rayne Ames last night!!! So, did anything exciting happen?! I must know!!"

Y/N shrugged as they took a bite from their own cream puff. "Rayne taught me a new spell while I made the cream puffs. We also kissed, and now we are dating. Nothing too exciting though."

Lemon screamed with joy as she nearly fainted at the news, but it was Finn whose jaw dropped as he flailed his arms in the air. "YOU'RE DATING MY BROTHER?! AND YOU KISSED?! I did not need to know that!!" Finn dashed from the room as his face flushed with embarrassment, but Lemon wanted to hear more.

"So, do you want to go over wedding plans with me?"

Tag list: @mayurin17, @thebasicbword, @kemis-world, @sereniteav

[lawva-girl]

Historically.. We don't mix.

Law x fem!Reader, College AU

Notes: the things that don't mix are history and stem majors!!! this came to me in a dream forever ago and ive been sitting on it since. This is only part one to... idk how many but yes! I have a loose outline, we can bet on 5 parts but thats a scary bet to make methinks. Enjoy :) also i apologize if the pov switching in the first bit is weird, i thought i was cooking and i kinda think its cute now so it is.

WC: 1976

The classroom was quiet, you were the only one there. Class officially started in 4 minutes. Right as you pulled out your phone to double check the room another person walked in. You assumed she was a student since she was about your age, at least she looked it. When the woman instead walked to the front of the class you realized she was the professor. Shoulder length black hair, with bangs trimmed right to her eyebrows. Wearing a white cowboy hat, which you thought was peculiar. 

She removed the hat and set it on the desk, resting her bag in the seat. 

She wrote on the board “Robin, overview of women in war” then she leaned against the desk and pulled out her phone.

You looked back at yours, 11:18. Two minutes until class began, and there was now roughly 15 people in the room. You sat in the second row back from the front, and you noticed only one person in the front row. He had a weird beanie on, dark hair, and pierced ears. You tried not to stare, since you knew he could glance back at any second.

“Okay everyone, I am Nico Robin. I’m your professor.” She smiled for the class, and continued, “this class should be very exciting, we get to learn about women like Joan of arc, who really was a delusional farm girl, and Molly Pitcher, a women who fought in the American revolution. The syllabus is online, you will need books by next class. The student store has them for 15 dollars, I won’t take any excuses.” 

The professor paused, then opened her bag and pulled out the book, “it looks like this. It’s a small booklet of primary sources, mostly text and images, that we will take a deep dive into. Your grade this semester will be 40 percent exams, 25 percent homework, and finally 35 percent participation. Yes it is a lot, this class is modeled after my time researching, you cannot be a historian or teacher without being able to work as a group and communicate. I know it’s a challenge but try your best.”

A beat.

Law felt sick. He was not a talker, especially to people who were history majors. The men were always blood hungry, the women always poetic. This class would be rough, but if he could find one person bearable enough it might be okay. Sitting in the front seat, he couldn’t glance around to see his peers. While the professor was going on about the school's mandatory syllabus information, he took a quick look behind him, as if checking the clock. 

No one was paying attention, and he glanced quickly around the class. There was only one person who looked back at him, meeting his eyes. Of course they looked away immediately, and so did he.

The professor finally finished and gave the students time to “meet their neighbors”. Law turned and found the one student who made eye contact with him. 

“I’m Trafalgar Law, I’m a double major in history and biology.” He stated right to the girl, with no excitement in his voice, tone steady.

“My name is Dracule y/n, I’m a history major, and you are insane, Trafalgar.” She had a bit of sarcasm in her tone, which he took offense to. She was the fifth person to tell him that today.

“I’m not insane, I just like history and I want to be a doctor.” 

“That’s cool I guess, I’ve never met a stem major I liked though. You guys are all so “history is just memorization and dates”, I can’t stand talking to ‘em.” 

Law looked back at her and thought ‘I have never met a history major I liked either’. He decided on saying, “If you ask me historians are basically philosophers, you just think all day and pretend like the world changed.” 

She made an obvious frown, putting her hands onto the table with a bit too much force. “Huh?!”

“History majors have two options, teach or research, both are dead end jobs that don’t help people. It’s simple.” He stated nonchalantly, like it was crazy to major in history. 

“Well life isn’t all about jobs and helping people. It’s about living?” She looked him dead in the eyes before finishing with, “it’s not like the world collapses when doctors aren’t around.” 

“Well it was nice talking, but I’m gonna chat to my other neighbors.” He said with a huff, he didn’t have to talk to you at all, in fact he hoped he wouldn’t have to again. 

After about 10 more minutes, professor Robin spoke up again, “okay okay, since we don’t have textbooks yet I decided to make a fun assignment. I’m giving you your first and last handouts, you will need to fill them out before next class. Other than that, please look at the canvas page. Read over the syllabus and take my obligatory syllabus quiz. You are now free from this class.” 

You walked out into the hall, and booked it to the student store. You told your only friend and sister, Perona, that you would meet her there.

Law, coincidentally, told Bepo the same thing. Bepo was his only friend, having grown up with the white haired bear. 

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

Only 10 minutes after class had dismissed you arrived at the store, already spotting Perona’s pink pigtails. 

“perona!” You whisper-screamed in her ear, trying to scare her. 

“Ahhh y/n”, she sighed, clearly unaffected, “you know you’ll never scare me. Anyways, what is my cute depressed friend doing on Friday?” 

You and her walked into the store, “studying... So I’m busy.” Giving her a quick smile before you two settled in the textbook section. 

“You are so coming with me then! I’m going to the mall that’s next to campus, I’m already so bored of our dorm room decorations. If we go to 5below I can get way cuter stuff for us! You need to come since it’s your dorm too, so I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Perona you have really good taste in stuff, you should be fine on your own!” You put some enthusiasm behind your voice, to encourage her. 

She frowned back at you, not buying into your typical antics. “If you don’t come then you won’t be leaving all weekend! You need to go outside y/n!” 

“Perona!? Hi!” A voice from behind you called out to her, causing you to turn instantly. 

“Bepo! What a coincidence! Do you have a picture of the textbook we need for thermodynamics?” Perona said, already stepping towards the bear.

“Of course! I have to be studious this year!” 

The two of them found the text book, it costed a whopping $300 dollars, and was written by their professor. 

“We can share, right Bepo? That way it’s only 150 dollars?” The both of them had a cloud over their heads as you watched the sad situation unfold. Peronas face was for sure one of desperation.

“Wait is there a digital version? It’s usually cheaper.” You suggested, reaching to pull out the info card. 

“Bepo! I’ve been looking.” Whoever said that sounded quite angry, and familiar?

“I’m sorry Law! I saw my classmate and got excited… sorry” Bepo turned to face the man. 

“You couldn’t have texted? just once?” Law replied, only just then looking at the two people who were with Bepo.

“Great this guy again.” You said with sarcasm dripping from your voice and turned to Perona, “we should leave, he hates me.” 

“I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.” Law said, pinching his nose.

“Whatever, do you have Bepo’s number Rona?” Calling her by her self appointed nickname always made her happy, right now you were hoping it would get her to leave with you to the history section. 

“I don’t actually! Bepo! Here, put your number in!” She said with a smile, being way more friendly than usual. “I’m Perona by the way, how do you know my friend y/n?” 

It was a simple question but the way he answered really bugged you, rattling off a “we have a class together”. He was looking down at his phone and didn’t even bother to look up when he answered. Hell he didn’t even bother to introduce himself! 

“His name is Trafalgar by the way, we have women in war together.” You had a straight face, conveying how much it bothered you well.

“Awww how wonderful!” Perona had an enthusiastic tone but looked at you with a smirk like no other. “Would you be her friend? I’m the only one she has right now!” 

You cursed your friend and her constant medling. She loved to stir the pot, and when you got upset she would always say “you are so cute when you’re mad though!” With her words to Law, he finally looked up. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but was instantly interrupted. 

“He only had one friend too!” Bepo handed back Perona’s phone, “it’s me!” He said with a big smile.

“He seems like he would have no trouble! My y/n is super awkward and shy!” Perona practically ignored you, as you had started to form words before she interrupted you.

“No no! He’s pretty judgmental so a lot of people stay away from him, he also thinks he’s smarter than everyone!” Bepo replied back, as if they were two parents gossiping about their kids.

“She thinks the same! Maybe they could be friends?” Perona and Bepo look at you and Law.

“I am smarter!” Both you and law said in unison. Immediately looking at each other with frustration.

“Don’t say what I say!” You said to law.

“How would I know what you were going to say? Do you even think?” Law argued back.

“Of course I do! Do you?” You couldn’t think of anything better… 

“Good one. Bepo we’re leaving.”

“Rona we are leaving too! At least I don’t constantly speak in contractions…”

Law turned his head so you would hear, “you just said one too!” 

You and Perona had already turned the corner, you quickly led her to the history section. You spared her no look, you figured you would talk about it once the two of you got back to the dorm. Once you reached the history section, you squatted down in front of the book you needed and saw there were 3 left. Grabbing one then standing. Just as you were about to go pay for the book, you heard him again.

“Are you following me Dracule? Typical.” He said, with a touch of sarcasm. 

“Typical? We both know you don’t have anyone interested enough to follow you. Also, are you even thinking? We are in the same class so of course we would both need the same book.” 

“Whatever, I’m getting my book and leaving.” He quickly bent over, grabbed a copy and was gone.

“No comeback!?” You said, just a bit too loud. You wanted him to hear you, so that he knew you knew he couldn’t come up with anything. Feeling a bit triumphant you turned to Perona, who was standing behind you with a smile. 

“What now?” 

“He’s cute y/n!”

“No chance. He’s mean, and a biology major!” 

She scoffed, “there is always an exception to the rule! Like me!” 

“Yes Rona, an exception. A single exception. There can’t be two exceptions.” 

“Anything could happen! Plus if me and Bepo end up sharing a book you might be forced into hanging out with all of us! Who knows, maybe they also share a dorm!” 

You sigh and look at her, she looks so happy at the prospect that you might have a friend, especially one that’s a guy. You settled, your good side winning out. “Fine. I’ll be open to it. Only if he is nicer.” 

[snowy-vee]

ALL MINE (5) Re-Done. MUST READ AGAIN

CHECK MY PINNED POST!

DAILY CLICK!!!!

DON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE JUST BECAUSE THE STRIKE IS OVER! NOBODY WILL BE FREE UNTIL EVERYONE IS FREE!

oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader

INDEX

n/a: I'VE CHANGED THINGS AND I MIGHT'VE FOUND INSPIRATION after watching 'You' again, if my narrative seems like Joe's, so sorry, I am obsessed with the man. BARE WITH ME, much shorter chapter then the one before

You were running, feeling the sweat drops sliding down your face. Your legs felt tired, but you knew that if you stopped now, you’d likely collapse on the ground. Still, you kept increasing the speed on the treadmill, wanting to challenge yourself more.

“Are you done? We need to talk.” Jesse was beside you on another treadmill, but he was still, just leaning against it, watching you. You stopped the machine, gradually reducing the speed.

“I hope this isn’t bad news. I’ve had to put up with a lot from those two this week; I don’t plan on hearing from you that everything’s going wrong now,” you said before starting to drink water to hydrate your dry throat. The truth was, you had started frequenting the campus gym much more than before because it was unbearable to hear Ellie talk about Dina or see Ellie and Dina acting cute in the apartment.

Acting like it didn’t bother you was becoming a very difficult task, and there were times when you would simply cut Ellie off mid-conversation and lock yourself in your room. The next day, you’d have to lie about something. You couldn’t bear the thought that the small plan you had with Jesse would fail. You had been helping him with things like knowing where Dina was at any given time, if she was excited about some new show, if she had any other favorite candies, or to keep Ellie busy so he could have some alone time with Dina.

While Dina’s visits had been decreasing, you still saw her around the house. That wasn’t enough for you; she had to disappear from your lives.

“I’ve been thinking that maybe you should participate more too.”

“I already do. It’s not easy keeping them away.”

“No, I mean you should start seducing Ellie,” you frowned at his words, confused about what he meant. “I can win Dina back, but likewise, Ellie could give it a shot, as both are currently single and Ellie’s interest lies solely with Dina, I think.”

You nodded slowly, seeing the point of his words. You hadn’t thought about also having Ellie eating out of your hand; she had to desire you as much as you did her.

“Well, Ellie and I are going to my vacation home next weekend for Spring Break. I can try something there; we’ll be alone for two days before my family arrives.”

“I know. I have a date with Dina that and this weekend.”

“A date?”

“Well, she’s coming to my house to help me study,” Jesse clarified, handing you your bag. “Keep me informed if anything changes between you and Ellie.”

“The same goes for you” you grabbed your bag and waved him goodbye as you left the gym.

Whistling, you went through your phone, swiping insta stories ¡Bingo! They were on a date in some place so you had the house by yourself for maybe a couple hours. The bus took it’s time to arrive but the trip to the apartment was quick.

You were going to shower, sleep and maybe fantasize a little bit. You could wake up on a Saturday morning and start scheming from the very first ray of sunlight.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

And you did. Your whole week revolve around Ellie and being in her space more than anything, pleasing her, hanging out with her, making excuses just to have her by your side.

“I just need some help to prepare things for the trip” you would say declining the call of Dina on her phone while she was in the shower “I want to have a great time, I’m so tired of studying all my free time”

“I can help, yeah” Her voice sounded a little muffled because of the water running, you were mesmerized looking at her figure, at least, the shadow. “I just have to let Dina know, we’ve made plans, maybe you can tag along?”

You? Tag along? Why did it had to be you the one tagging along and not Dina? You huffed in annoyance.

“Can you pass me my towel?”

“You could always get it yourself, I’ve seen you naked before”

“I don’t want to wet the floor!” The water stop running and she popped he head and her arm, waving it so you could give her the towel. You were fast to leave the phone where she left it before, you threw the towel at her.

Sighs left your dry mouth as you remember. It’s been hard this week, so hard to balance cheer practice, studies, keep Ellie around, keep Ellie’s phone close, keep Jesse informed, keep Dina away, make Jesse inform you, stay pretty, stay consistent, don’t stop the motion.

The Friday morning, you were in the library, first time of the week that you actually spent time alone. Not fully since you met Jesse at first to talk about them and after collecting and exchanging information you went to the furthest table to study and concentrate in your work.

Now you were gathering your books and laptop because Ellie had sent you a message saying she was going home already, that she was going to pick you up, that you should be ready. You saw her at the door, but she wasn’t alone and seemed to be arguing with the other person.

With every step you took, you could see more of the other person’s face, it was Dina. They both fell silent the moment you opened the door and greeted them, Dina looked you up and down and turned her attention back to Ellie “Please don’t stop talking to me this week, we’re both angry about different things and it’s best if we calm down and talk another time”.

And with that she walked into the library bumping your shoulder on purpose, you opened your mouth offended and turned to Ellie “What is her problem with me? Just know that I’m holding back because it’s your something, but otherwise…”

“I don’t even know if we’re still a thing” she muttered grabbing your backpack and starting to walk “Come on, we need to pack our bags for the Easter trip.”

You nodded looking inside the library as Dina and Jesse seemed to be studying together while laughing, you couldn’t be happier. The plan was working, but it wouldn’t be complete until Ellie and Dina broke up completely.

When you got home, you went into your room and saw that your bed was full of clothes and your travel bag was almost full. You sighed as you got down to work and finished packing your bag and cleaning your room, once you finished you went into Ellie’s room only to find her lying on top of the pile of clothes. “What are you doing? We’re supposed to be out of here in less than two hours and I remind you that you’re supposed to drive there.”

“I don’t even know what to put in.”

“Ellie, you’re like an NPC, you always wear the same clothes, just put three pairs of trousers, five shirts, one pair of pyjamas and two swimming trunks, we’ll swap clothes if we have to.”

“I’ll pass, how about I stay here? I wouldn’t want to spoil your holiday with your family.”

“No way, you’re family too, my mother loves you as if you were her daughter, I’ll help you!”

‘Like a daugther soon to be in law’ you thought, pushing her to the edge of the bed and starting to look through her clothes to see what she could and couldn’t wear. It didn’t take long and Ellie took the opportunity to clean her room and prepare some snacks for mid-trip.

Soon you were both changed into comfortable clothes and inside the car ready for the journey. Oh, what a trip this one was going to be ¿Ellie and Dina upset with each other? The cream decorating the cupcake ¿You maintaining her occupied so she could barely have time to check on her phone and lose contact with Dina while Jesse did his thing? Cherry on TOP.

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