#i didn't mean to ramble this long but yeah

[corvidus-fr]

super quick musings on Fathoms. i like a lot about the pose + design, but i feel like they kinda suffer from Undel Sameface when everything about their lore is pointing towards "friendly gentle ocean giants". wanted to roughly sketch Merrigan for a side-by-side comparison, and then some rough doodles of how i might push the design in a chunkier, more cetacean-inspired direction - 3 is swapping the features but keeping the overall proportions/layout mostly the same, and 4 is pushing the proportions even further

[refractionrailway]

on an unrelated note it's so funny to me that they keep making Heathcliff the defacto "we have an id who's in a position of leadership and we need someone to be their sidekick" sinner, guy who is so "hot dog or hamburger style boss" coded

[romance-rambles]

modern clarence | an appropriate staring distance

While at the beach, you take a moment to appreciate your handsome boyfriend while he's taking a nap—and also when he's not.

1.2k, fluff + established relationship, reader is mc, series: none

NAVY BLUE STICKS OUT TO you the moment you open your eyes.

Your aching shoulder protests your decision to stay as you are, on your side, facing a still sleeping Clarence. Like this, he looks much younger—you're reminded of the time you had to force him to take a nap. Like this, he's simply the cute guy you managed to score not one but multiple dates with, just Clarence, instead of the incredibly smart and wonderful and kind Student Council President.

You glance at the circular table set between your two beach chairs, taking note of his glasses resting primly upon its surface. With him often having to juggle two different kinds of glasses, you'd offered to put them in your bag so that he could pack lighter. Or, as light as he can.

Right now, it's awkwardly squished behind you, miraculously still on the chair only because it's too big to fall out the gap under the armrest.

Filling in the blanks comes as easily to you as the smile on your face when you get to see your boyfriend, nearly the same one on your face right now—and the expression that goes with it is so endlessly fond that you find yourself with the urge to hit something.

Simply put, your boyfriend is a handsome man—the most handsome one, of all the men your keen eyes have gazed upon. And gazed, they certainly have. But even if they didn't have to pick, then they would gaze at only Clarence for the rest of their life..

You almost giggle at the thought, but think against it at the last minute.

But pressing your lips firmly into a thin line has the opposite effect on your budding smile. You imagine you look rather strange to anyone who passes by—what with your mockery of a wide smile and the silent scream building up in your throat, paired with the quiet thumping of your feet against the legrest.

If you were in a more private space, you would resort to kicking instead.

A proper squish to your still warm cheeks as you begin to sit up helps ease up the passion swirling chaotically across your body. You exhale, then allow your hands to slide off your face. One side of it bears the consequences of your actions more than the other.

With a one last longing at the sleeping Clarence, you start to dig through your bag for the only thing in your arsenal that could substitute for a sketchbook.

There are a few miscellaneous promotion emails waiting for you on the lockscreen. A message from Cael asking about dinner tomorrow too. Somewhere between them, there's a notice about the weather, with the temperature from an almost hour ago listed uselessly.

You swipe past them all and hurriedly slip into the camera app.

The hand holding your phone steadies itself against the armrest as you swing your legs over the edge of your chair. A thumb hovers over the capture button, vigilantly awaiting your command. The fingers of your other hand, meanwhile, busy themselves with zooming in on the captivating scenery.

With each pinch, the focus grows ever narrow—until all that remains is Clarence and nothing else.

At one point, you try to zoom into the mole under his eye, but it doesn't make for a very compelling photo. After a few attempts, quite a few of which involve staring at your screen for prolonged periods of time, you reluctantly give up.

Your pout is soon covered up by your phone. When its front camera presses against your upper lip, your gaze is free to wander back to the sleeping beauty beside you once more.

A healing effect, exclusive to him, takes hold of you instantaneously.

Eyes brimming with fondness narrow slightly. You slide off your beach chair, hands on your bent knees as you take a closer look. You can make out the shadows cast by his long lashes and the drool dribbling past his chin.

He's perfect.

You're content to stay there until your knees begin to ache, reminding you insistently that this isn't a very comfortable position to be in. As a compromise of some kind, you adjust your arms atop the nearby armrest.

It really would be better if you'd brought your sketchbook along—but, you think, remembering his workaholic tendencies, would he even bother to take a nap then?

You scrunch your nose up at the thought.

In that moment, Clarence seems sense to your presence. When you look back at him, you're greeted with the sight of confusion in his now opened, but still drowsy gaze. He blinks, and it earns him an amused grin from you.

"Morning," you say, though it's well into afternoon.

That seems to wake him up. His cheeks flush a warm pink, and he hurriedly wipes away the drool on his face, as though you haven't already committed the sight to your memory.

Clearing his throat, he responds in kind, careful to sit up in such a way that he avoids looking at you.

"You don't have to be so close...I can see you just fine."

You laugh, not unkindly. "What if I'm the one who's having trouble?"

For a moment, when he turns back to look at you, he looks alarmed. Then, his shoulders relax to the tune of a sigh, his groggy mind apparently having caught onto the fact that you were joking.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach for his glasses. But as with the issue of walking into a cave without a flashlight, even if you vaguely recall where your destination is, there's no guarantee you'll actually reach it.

"Give me a second," you mutter, your annoyance making your tone a bit too sharp.

You follow your words up with an apology. His glasses held are carefully by the frames as your sheepish gaze connects with his faintly amused one. Clarence reaches out, getting as far as grasping the slanted tips of the frame before the two of you reach a mutual agreement.

"Well." His cheeks return to being a rosy hue. He coughs politely. "If you would."

Cute. Biting your lip giddily, you shake his grip off. A quick once-over of your surroundings before you stand up shows that no one seems to be paying attention to you. And unless your friends and acquaintences have come to together to unlock the secrets of invisibility, no one you know seems to be present either.

Leaning over, you line his glasses up against his face, the tips of his frame brushing against his cheek. It takes only a moment to slot them into place—and you have enough experience with doing so that they don't snag against his ears.

It takes only a moment longer to give him an innocent peck on the lips.

"There," you murmur, not entirely satisfied with the kiss.

His Adam's apple bobs. Clarence adjusts his glasses with an awkward look that suggests he has some kind of solution to your dilemma. You, of course, beat him to the punch.

"Why—" Your voice cracks a little. "—don't we go find a different spot?"

He smiles, narrowed eyes watching you fondly. "I was about to suggest the same thing."

[mariyekos]

Thoughts on the new DMC trailer?

Going to be honest I haven't watched any trailers since the trailer at the Game Awards (or whichever one I have those 2 breakdown posts for) 😅 I keep seeing the trailer announcements when I don't have my headphones on me, and I've been behind on watching them once I have the time... maybe tomorrow I'll finally get to watching them! Tonight I'm dead tired so I don't think I'd be in much of a good mood and I don't want to start off on the wrong foot, so to speak. When I watch them I can make a write up on it though! Would probably be fun.

[gingermintpepper]

I've seen so many interesting and fun greek myth ships over the years both divine and mortal supported by text and just for fun, and yet I fear tonight, I will be throwing my hat into the ring as a propagator of niche greek myth ships because like, no seriously how is Aristaeus/Dionysus not already thing.

[arklay]

RESIDENT EVIL → THE WESKER FAMILY

To the public, little is known of the families behind some of the world’s most renowned bioterrorists, but the question remains: did they play a role in causing their children to walk down the path that they did? Or are these individuals simply ambitious criminals with delusions of grandeur?

For Diana Wesker (née Afanasyeva), her introduction into the bioweapons black market trade was upon discovering her employers were using her research into limb regeneration with salamanders to further their experiments in creating enhanced soldiers, instead of developing human therapies with which she was recruited for. Although the prospect of using biological weapons in the military did not appeal to her, the concept remained fascinating for her own selfish endeavours. Born on the 27th of October, 1963 in Sydney, Australia to Russian immigrant parents, Diana had harsh expectations placed upon her at a young age, ones that no matter how hard she tried she could never live up to. Her mother, Tatyana, was an unfeeling woman, absent for long stretches of time with little regard to how it affected her daughters, much more concerned with her craft as an accomplished opera singer. Viktor was no better. A strict man whose role as father and ballet master blurred, he pushed his girls to one day follow in his footsteps. Whilst Sofia enjoyed ballet, and went on to become a professional ballet dancer, Diana’s heart was set on going into the field of biology. She wished to make a name for herself, separate from her family – to which she succeeded.

Diana was married to former U.S. Marine, Dave Monroe, for only a year until he was declared dead in 1992 after succumbing to injuries sustained in a horrific car accident. Foul play was ruled out while Diana played the role of the grief-stricken widow, but in reality, she had snapped after years of mistreatment at her husband’s hands, and opted for something she could pass off as an accident to be free of him. For years she believed he was dead – and he was, legally – but that proved to not be the case when he found his way back into her life again in 1999. Unbeknownst to her, she had been lied to by the police and coroner, who were paid off by her employers when they took Dave’s body for themselves and used him as one of their first test subjects in developing supersoldiers. Before he could ever hurt her again, Diana’s second husband, Albert Wesker, tracked the man down, captured him and tortured him, before allowing Diana to get her violent and bloody revenge.

The origins of Albert Wesker’s involvement in bioterrorism, alongside his twin sister, Alex, are much different than that of Diana’s. The two hail from London, Canada, but unfortunately, they hold no memories of their lives there, nor what happened to their biological parents when they were eight years old. Agents of Oswell E. Spencer, an aristocratic billionaire and eugenicist, took the twins from their home and executed their parents as per Spencer’s orders. Albert and Alex were then placed in a home funded by the Spencer Foundation where they were given new names and a privileged upbringing. They had access to the best education possible, free to pursue whichever field they decided, but it was by no accident they both went into virology and bioengineering; at home, their adoptive parents – agents whom they believed to be their real parents – instilled them with the beliefs of Oswell E. Spencer, harbouring disdain for war and pestilence, and believing humans to be an evolutionary dead-end in need of a rebirth. They were only two of the hundreds of children “adopted” as part of what is known as Project W, a plan intended to develop an advanced race of human beings. The most promising candidates were headhunted by Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, the twins amongst them, where they went on to create bioweapons for the company founded by none other than the man who had handpicked them for his plan. The final stage of this was to infect the thirteen Spencer saw fit, however, only two survived; Albert received the intended effects, now possessing superhuman abilities, however, Alex was only offered more time to live due to her terminal degenerative illness.

In the summer of 1995, Diana was working undercover within Umbrella to gather development data on their projects for her company. Here, she had a chance encounter with Albert, an intelligence officer at the time, which permanently altered the course of her life. The two were never seen far from one another’s side, marrying in 1998, and they went on to become notorious in the bioweapons industry. The development of the Uroboros virus was where things took a turn for the worst. Although Diana’s infection was successful and she bore abilities that rivalled her husband’s, the plan itself did not succeed as they had hoped, and almost cost Albert his life at the hands of his former subordinates.

Now, they work within the shadows, with Diana declared missing and Albert believed to be dead. Their legacy, however, lives on with the mark they left on the world. As visionaries in their field, they influenced bioterror attacks carried out by countless individuals and organisations. In turn, they also inspired others to fight against such atrocities. One such person happens to be Albert’s son from a former relationship, Jake Müller, whose existence he was unaware of.

[semisentient-entity]

experiencing not really an identity crisis but more of a "side effect of being aromantic in an amatonormative society"

[merge-conflict]

if i have a controversial rogue opinion it's that i think taking johnny at face value when he says rogue will do whatever he says (implying he has all the power) is to believe what he tells himself which as we know isn't always...accurate. and the impression i get from some off-hand comments i've read that she was somehow forced or obligated to help him is i think sort of robbing her of her own agency? like yeah she has shit taste in men but she could have turned him down if she wanted to and she didn't really want to. it's a flaw that says something about how she values loyalty and the people she loves. there's nothing even in johnny's memories that suggests she's hopelessly heartbroken or that helpless to resist, hell santiago is the one telling her to consider the offer. she's got johnny's back, but you very obviously get the sense she doesn't need him in her life and has her own shit going on, you know? anyway maybe i'm misunderstanding folks i just love that she built her own empire on being ruthless and savvy and yet still has a soft spot for her old shitheel ex (but only after he grovels and embarrasses himself a little). ok thanks for reading my tedx talk.

[arolesbianism]

I was looking at old photos of some of my nuggets yesterday from before I did my first day 1 reset (aka before I got a mod that lets you keep your agents during day 1 resets) and realized that I accidentally remade Eva wrong. Except! Beautiful world! It's actually a good thing because her current back hair was her dead sister's back hair so actually it was intentional from the start and I'm a genius forever <3333

[seaofreverie]

We should normalize bringing these sort of "small talk ideas" cards to meetings with other people so that it's possible to avoid the awkwardness of not knowing what to talk about to kick things off or if it's considered normal to talk about this specific thing and AUGHGHFCG all this stuff.

[abyssembraced]

I'm hesitant to outright promise anything, but I'm hoping to get to my owed replies sometime soon? At least the ones I owe for Ghost, anyway.

I'm also open to plot new threads for either Ghost or Rouxls! Admittedly, I'm not sure how much time I'll have to sit down and Discuss things this week, mind you, but I'm willing to give it a shot! Finishing my currently owed replies will have to take priority over writing any new starters or replies for new threads, though, since I've owed them for a frankly ridiculous amount of time and I feel really bad for putting them off for so long, but plotting and planning stuff is good!

[lostrealities0]

I honestly have never understood why this line is so hated. I have seen people use it to villainize Ford. I would like to say that I agree with all of your points. It was completely wrong for him to project his relationship with his brother onto Dipper. He definitely has convinced himself that his and Stan's relationship has always been bad.

We don't know much about how it was in the past. However, it seems that they were always grouped together as a pair. It was always Stan and Ford. Additionally, Stan gives off codependency vibes during the incident, while at the same time, Ford seems very independent. He has zero issues with the prospect of going to a university across the country.

I believe that this dynamic probably caused some issues. While I doubt teenage Ford thought of their relationship as suffocating, I'm sure he got annoyed and/or frustrated at times. He was never seen as his own person; he was just part of a pair. Stan probably loved it, maybe even encouraged it. Remember, it is not wrong to want to be your own person!

Again, I'm not saying that it was right in any way for Ford to say this. At least not to Dipper. This is very much a conversation he needs to have with Stan. What I'm trying to say is that I believe that there is a valid basis and some truth behind that statement and shouldn't be judged point blank.

I think so much about Ford's line "And isn't it suffocating?" when Dipper says he's never been away from Mabel. Side barring how insane it is to project onto a twelve yr old boy, I think it really shows how Ford's perception of his and Stan's relationship has perverted over the forty years they were apart. We know they were close at Mabel and Dipper's age. But Ford's convinced himself that it was always bad, that his brother always had poor intent for him, always held him back, because if that's wrong, if his brother really did make a mistake, then it means he doubted the brother that loved him and he loved in turn.

[eradicatetehnormal]

I don't think people have the right to offended when something goes wrong for another person, you sass them, and the response is "Fuck you."

[navybrat817]

Chokehold

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You have a crush on Bucky and start to bond with him over coffee in the break room, but there's no way he could possibly feel the same way about you... right?

Word Count: Over 11k (yep!)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, fluff, longing, minor angst, insecurities, feels, sparring, swearing, confessions, getting together, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: I've been sitting on this one (thanks for listening to my back and forth on this @targaryenvampireslayer), and I hope you all enjoy. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @enchanthings-a. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You fell for Bucky Barnes the moment you met. Something dangerous lurked in his steel blue eyes when you introduced yourself to him, but beneath the surface was pain and loneliness that you wanted to take away. Of course, that could've been you projecting and wanting to justify having a crush on a guy who hadn't spoken a word to you.

“Bucky,” was all he said to you, entrancing you with the deep baritone of his voice.

You wished you could say it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but you could count on one hand the number of times he spoke to you in the months that followed. You tried not to take it personally. Maybe he wasn't interested in making new friends since he seemed to stay close to Steve, Sam, and their small group. Or maybe he just didn't see a reason to trust you. Trust likely wasn't easy for him and what reason did he have to open up to you?

“Hi!” you exclaimed when Bucky walked into the break room, your echoing voice making you wince. “Sorry. I didn't mean to greet you at that decibel.”

“It’s okay,” he said, your eyes on him as he strode to the coffee machine with ease.

Bucky wasn't your friend, but it didn't stop you from greeting him whenever you saw him throughout the building, a warm feeling spreading in your chest every time he acknowledged you with a slight head nod or grunt. That had to mean something since he didn't outright ignore you. Not being his friend also didn't keep you from learning little things about him, like how he took his coffee.

Which you decided to surprise him with today.

“Wait! I made you some coffee,” you told him, going to get the mug you had ready for him. “I hope you like it.”

You had a reputation around S.H.I.E.L.D. for being kind to others ever since you joined. You didn't mind that being your signature since you liked putting a bit of kindness out into the world. Besides the tough work you did, your coworkers and teammates fought other battles every day that you knew nothing about. So why not try to lift others up? It costs you nothing.

Being nice, however, had a downside or two. Some thought that kindness was insincere or a weakness. It also didn't get you a lot of dates. Or maybe you didn't pay attention to other guys since you had eyes for one man.

You couldn't get a read on him as you carefully handed it to him. “You made me coffee?” he asked in disbelief, a soft look in his eyes before he blinked it away.

“Yep! With cream and sugar.”

Your smile faltered when he raised an eyebrow and glanced suspiciously at the liquid, like he was trying to assess if something was off with it as you wrung your fingers together. “This is really for me?” he asked.

You couldn't detect any anger or annoyance in his tone, but you wouldn't say he sounded happy either. Which only made your smile fall more. “Yeah. I just, I thought you liked it that way and maybe it would help you kickstart the morning, but I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sorry. And you don't have to drink it. I can just dump it out,” you rambled.

He held the mug a bit closer when you tried to take it away, the steam rising from it as his eyes met yours. It was almost as if the heat melted the ice from his stare. ���Not gonna let you dump this out after you went to the trouble of making it for me,” he said, gently blowing on it before he took a sip. You reminded yourself not to whimper when he licked a drop away from his lip, wondering just what else he could do with that tongue. “Especially since you know how I like it.”

You avoided his gaze, hoping he didn't question why you knew since there was a chance you’d blurt out that you like him and that was the last thing you needed. You owed him some sort of explanation though, right? “Well, we’re both here some mornings and I saw you make it that way,” you said, your brain overanalyzing how that sounded. “Not that I'm watching you or anything like that. I… I’m not a creep.”

Bucky stared with unreadable eyes as you sighed and shook your head. Leave it to you to fumble over your words with your crush. Was that why they called it a crush? Because it crushed your hopes and dreams?

In a small voice, you said, “I was just trying to be nice.”

“It’s a very nice gesture, so thanks,” he said, taking another sip. “I appreciate it.”

Doing your best not to preen like a peacock at the renewed sliver of hope, you released the breath you were holding and nodded. At least he didn't question why you cared enough to remember how he took his coffee. “You’re welcome,” you said, wishing you could hang around and chat more, but you had work to do and didn't want to smother him. “I hope you have a good day.”

“You, too,” he said, his eyes on you as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I’ll see you here at the same time tomorrow?”

You came to a stop, your heart thudding as you faced him. “You… want me to make you coffee tomorrow?”

He chuckled before he took another sip. “I meant maybe we would just bump into each other, but I won’t turn down another coffee if you’re offering.”

Of course that was what he meant. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Maybe,” you said, backing up and hitting your elbow against the doorframe.

His brows furrowed as you gave him a strained smile. “You okay?” he asked, your cheeks hot as you rubbed your elbow.

“I’m fine! Enjoy your coffee,” you said, wishing the ground would swallow you up as you bolted from the room.

You were a competent agent. A strong woman on top of your kindness. Why did you have to act like an idiot in front of him? There was no chance you’d see him in the break room after that. It was a shame, too. It was the most he had ever spoken to you.

A higher being either took pity on you or wanted to play a trick on you since you did see Bucky the next day. Not only that, no one else was in the break room. Granted, most people used the main break room since this room was much smaller and on a floor most didn't go to. But how was it possible that you were so lucky?

“Morning, Bucky.”

“Morning.” He hesitated before he took a seat at the same table as you. If you were dreaming, you didn’t want anyone to wake you up. “Sorry. I should've asked…”

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “You're welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks.” His cheek twitched and you wondered if it was a nervous tick or something leftover from the hell he endured. “You know, that coffee yesterday was probably the best I’ve ever had from this place.”

You perked up more. “Really? Wow, thanks. It was nothing,” you smiled, your pulse quickening. Not only was Bucky talking to you again, but he complimented you. It was slightly pathetic how much you enjoyed that. “You did say you wouldn’t turn down another coffee if I offered. Would you like one?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile. He actually smiled at you. It was a good morning. “Thanks.”

“You know, you have a really nice smile,” you complimented him, proud that you said the words without your voice cracking.

“You think so?” He leaned back in his seat and you tried to move around the room like normal as his gaze followed your movements. “I think it scares some more than my glare does.”

You busied yourself with getting his coffee ready, the urge to defend him rising. “There’s nothing scary about your smile and anyone who says otherwise can deal with me.”

“They can deal with you, huh? Awfully kind of you.” His chuckle was so unexpected that you almost dropped the mug. The small talk was unexpected, too, but you weren't about to tell him to stop. “But you’re so sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare at anyone.”

“Oh, I can have resting bitch face when I want to,” you teased before your heart skipped a beat. He looked at you enough that he hadn’t seen you glare at anyone? He thought you were sweet? No, it was probably just an offhand comment. “And I wouldn’t just glare at anyone to defend you. I can fight, too. Words or fists.”

“You’d fight for me, too? You really know how to flatter a man.” His gaze warmed before some of the usual strain reappeared, your heart lurching at the sight. “But you shouldn’t have to fight for me.”

You took a seat across from him again once you set the mug down. “Why not?”

“Because you just shouldn’t.” He shrugged. You recognized that he was closing part of himself off and you weren't about to kick open that door. “If I’m being honest, I’m kind of shocked you’re talking to me.”

“And why’s that?”

He tapped a finger against his mug as he considered his words. “I haven’t really said much to you since we met, but you’ve still been nice to me. Always saying hi and smiling. And now this,” he said, gesturing to the coffee. “Some people have ulterior motives when they do nice things for no reason, but I don't get that feeling with you.”

“There are people who have ulterior motives. You’re right about that,” you agreed. The world could be a dark place with terrible people. “And I guess that's one of the reasons I try to lead with kindness. Putting a bit more optimism and joy into the world might not make it change overnight, but it could make a difference to someone.”

“That makes sense,” he said, his brows pinching. “But why continue to be nice to me when I've been standoffish with you? I don't think I deserve it.”

You let the words sink in. You expected Bucky would be apprehensive of people in general when his autonomy was taken away from him for so long. Trust couldn’t be easy. People had to earn it. What you didn't expect was that he didn't think he deserved your kindness.

“Everyone is different. We all have various personalities and comfort zones. Some people hit it off right away and others don't. Some need a bit more time to open up,” you answered, an earnest smile on your face. “I guess I figured you fell into the latter. Even if you didn't, I wouldn't take it personally or hold it against you. I hope you know that.”

Bucky may have had you in a chokehold, but he didn't owe you a thing.

His shoulders sagged as he let out a breath and you wished you could wrap him up in a hug. “Thanks for being so understanding.” He observed you with a thoughtful gaze. “And you are right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Your kindness made a difference for me yesterday. And you’re really easy to talk to.” He smiled, genuine affection in his eyes as your heart raced. Was it possible to faint while sitting? “I don't usually talk this much anymore.”

“I’m glad it did. You can always talk to me, you know. I’m happy to listen or even give advice if you want it,” you said sincerely. It meant a lot that he took the time to speak to you today, and if it were up to you he’d only have good things in his life going forward. No one deserved that more than him. “And if I’m ever too much for you, don't be afraid to tell me.”

His brows pinched again. “Too much? How?” he asked, his tone not as light as it was a moment ago.

You tensed, gripping your mug as you mulled over past things you heard from others. “Well, I’ve been told before that I’m too perky and too optimistic some days. That my kindness is fake and it can get on people’s nerves,” you explained carefully, swallowing a little. Yeah, you had a reputation for being kind, but some didn’t care for it. “Not that I think you would find me annoying or anything like that. It’s just how it is for some people.”

“So because you choose to be nice instead of acting bitter or rude people don’t like that?” Bucky looked at you with a mix of confusion and anger. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”

You were utterly silent from his reaction. Your heart also fluttered because he seemed upset on your behalf. “So many things, I’m sure,” you teased, hoping to make him smile a little. It was nice when he smiled at you. “But it’s okay. Really. It doesn't change who I am. I'm still going to be me.”

Cheesy, but true. You couldn't control the actions and emotions of others. You knew in your core who you were and you would continue to put that energy out into the world.

His jaw ticked, but he gazed at you with what you guessed was admiration. “Kind and steadfast,” he whispered, making your heart swell all over again. “Listen. If anyone around here does give you a hard time, will you let me know?”

The determination in his eyes took you aback. He went from hardly speaking to you to opening up a bit and now wanting to look out for you. It was nice, to say the least. “That’s okay, Bucky. You said I didn't have to fight for you, so you don't have to for me.”

“I want to.” He reached forward and hovered his hand over yours. Before he touched you though, he pulled away. You longed to know what his touch felt like. “Please?”

You couldn't resist his gaze. “Okay, but only if you let me know if anyone gives you a hard time.”

“Yeah. I got a name for you. Sam Wilson,” he deadpanned.

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth so the sound wouldn’t echo in the room or bother him. “Oh, Sam. I’ll give him a talking to,” you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.

“I made you laugh,” he pointed out softly, almost in disbelief. It was another moment where you wanted to wrap him up in a hug.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Wow,” he whispered, smiling before his face fell. “Fuck. I have to go.” He went to stand, but paused to look at you. “Do you ever go to the main break room?”

“I prefer this one,” you said, lightly tapping the table. “It’s quieter.”

“Me, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, maybe I’ll see you here again tomorrow? Same time?

Warmth spread in your heart at the hope in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

You’d always be there if he asked.

For the next several weeks, seeing Bucky in the small break room became part of your normal morning routine. You made coffee for both of you before you sat together and talked. Some chats were casual, while others went a little deeper. Both ends of the spectrum helped you get to know each other.

He spoke fondly about a cat he found in an alley and took into his home. He named her Alpine and even showed you a photo of her on his phone. It tugged at your heartstrings seeing the ball of white fur curled up in his metal arm. How could it not?

Bucky spoke about Steve and Sam and how they tried to meet up once a week for dinner. They took turns picking the place. It was nice that he had them to lean on. Both men were always friendly toward you, but you noticed they seemed to smile at you even more since you and Bucky started talking. You assumed they were happy that their friend had someone else in his corner.

“Steve is a punk and Sam is worse,” he said once with nothing but affection in his eyes.

He explained that he was in therapy, which he wasn't ashamed of. He had no reason to be. It was a work in progress, building trust not just with the therapist but building trust within himself. He didn't get into specifics regarding what they talked about as it wasn't your business to begin with, though he did casually throw in that he had trouble sleeping some nights. You mentioned that you sometimes wrote your thoughts and feelings down if they got too loud. He told you the next day that he got himself a new notebook to try that out and you had a spring in your step the whole morning.

You didn't talk about anything particularly exciting. You told him that you didn't have a lot of family close by, but loved your job because you got to help people in some capacity. And that you enjoyed reading and watching movies when you stayed at home, but also enjoyed going out with a couple of close friends. Bucky didn't need to know that they loved teasing you about your crush. You mentioned little things, too, like how you needed to go shopping soon for a new sofa and how you hoped to see the new science exhibit at the nearby museum.

The bulk of your conversations took place in the break room, minus occasionally bumping into him around the building which didn't leave much time for chatter. It wasn't a bad thing. It was nice just to talk to him.

And while you didn't think any of the topics you brought up were interesting, Bucky listened intently every time, his eyes on you as he hung on your every word. The attention felt nice. Though you hadn't mustered up the courage to ask him to hang out outside of work, it felt like the two of you were friends because of those mornings together.

Maybe he thought you were friends, too, since he asked one day, “Do you know anything about dating apps?”

You almost spilled his coffee, but quickly recovered and avoided his concerned gaze as you sat down. “Um, no, not much. I haven’t really used them. I haven’t dated in a few months either,” you answered honestly, hoping your tone didn’t sound as bitter as the taste in your mouth. You weren’t embarrassed by your romantic status, but your heart sank just the same. “Are you… Why are you asking? Just out of curiosity.” It wasn’t your business, but it was the first time he brought up anything concerning dating or relationships.

“Sam mentioned setting me up and I brushed that off, so he mentioned using a dating app. I don’t know.” He shrugged as you hung your head.

Something settled within your chest, a heavy feeling that made it difficult to take a steady breath. But you couldn't feel sorry for yourself. Bucky was kind, good looking, and trying to adjust to a sense of normalcy. Of course he’d want to try dating again and what kind of person would you be if you didn't support him?

“Well, I can help you research some apps if you’d like. See if any may be a good fit?”

“Really? You’d do that?” he asked softly.

Your eyes drifted up and you did your best to smile. You couldn't let him see that the mere thought of him dating someone else hurt you. It was pathetic. “Yeah, I would,” you answered. You refused to let your crush on him stop you from helping him if he wanted to meet someone.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds and you almost squirmed in your chair. “But you said you haven't really used them. Why not?”

The unexpected question did make you squirm. You couldn't blurt out that he was one of the reasons. “Well, not to be a downer or anything, but some apps almost seem to set people up for rejection. It just isn’t possible to match every single person up. And there’s also rapid judgment with some based on appearance and it makes it easy to objectify people,” you explained. It was sad, but true. “It does work for some and I’m happy for those people, but I don't know. I’d rather just meet someone and…”

“Connect with them naturally?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” you said, a sad smile touching your lips. “Is it wishful thinking to want something like that?”

“I don’t think it is at all. In fact, that’s a good reason why I probably won’t use an app,” he said. You hoped your sigh of relief wasn’t audible, but the weight lifting from your shoulders felt palpable. “Besides, what would I say if I tried to set up a profile? ‘Hi, I’m a previously brainwashed assassin over 100 years old’?”

“It would be a conversation starter,” you teased, the playful banter bringing a warm smile to his face. “And I know I brought up rapid judgment, but I’m sure one look at your profile picture and people would line out the door just to get your attention,” you smiled and gestured to his face, but his gaze dropped, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. “I’m sorry. I…”

He shook his head, and you caught a hint of a smile that made your heart flutter. “No, it’s… It’s kind of nice to hear that,” he admitted, his gaze drifting away like he was lost in thought. “Dating came easy to me years ago and I don’t think I really appreciated it back then. The thought of trying again is a little scary.”

His voice was soft, almost reflective, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. You felt a swell of empathy for the weight of his past. “Well, whenever your next date happens? I hope they know how lucky they are,” you said, your heart aching to convey how deserving he was of genuine connection.

You just wished that connection was with you.

The warm smile returned to his face as he gazed at you. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Your heart ached in your chest. “Anytime,” you whispered back, quickly standing up before tears pricked your eyes. “I should get to work. Have a good day, okay?”

“Oh. You, too.” He looked like he wanted to stop you, but he hung back. It was all in your head anyway. He didn't want to stop you. Why would he?

You wiped your eyes once you were out of the break room. Rushing away was cowardly and you knew it. It was silly, too.

You wondered if the coffee talks would continue once he found his dream girl. Would he tell you about her? Would bile rise to your throat when he sang their praises or smiled a soft smile not reserved for you? You had to stop thinking about it. You couldn't fall apart just because Bucky wasn't yours, and it was something you’d need to come to terms with when he found someone else.

And maybe tomorrow it wouldn't hurt so much.

Bucky looked a little tired when he joined you the next morning, not saying a word. He still offered you a smile. You didn't speak either, but you gave him a small smile in return.

The night before, you wrestled with the idea of telling him how you felt. All you had to do was get the words out. But the words froze in your throat like ice and you kept quiet, both of you sipping your coffee as the seconds passed by.

You almost wanted to fill the void with more chatter, but it didn’t feel necessary. The silence was oddly comforting. Silence was also safe. He seemed content just to sit there with you, and you were afraid you’d blurt something out that you couldn’t take back.

“Did I do something to upset you yesterday?” he asked suddenly. His gaze was so gentle, yet deep, looking for an answer you couldn't fully give him. “You rushed out without finishing your coffee, and you always finish your coffee, so I had to have done something.”

Your heart breaks from his words. Rushing off made him think it was his fault, and you never wanted to imply that. “No, you didn't upset me,” you replied. That was true. Bucky didn't do anything to upset you. It was your own mind and feelings that did that. “I just had work to do.”

He didn't look convinced, and you couldn't blame him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You put a smile on your face, but you felt terrible. “And I don't think you could do anything to upset me.”

“Then you wouldn't mind sparring with me tomorrow morning by any chance, would you?” he asked.

You inhaled, not expecting him to ask you that. “You want to spar with me?” You discreetly pinched yourself, testing to see if you were dreaming or not. He was asking you to hang out with him outside of the break room. Kind of. “Really?” you added, your heart racing when he nodded.

“Yeah. What do you say?” he asked. Oh, it was a bad idea to spar with Bucky Barnes. Not because you couldn't learn from him, but what the hell were you going to do to reign in your sexual frustration? “Unless you're busy.”

“Yes!” you blurted out quickly, clearing your throat as you tried to regain some of your composure. You swore his cheek twitched like he was trying not to smile. “I mean, no, I'm not busy. I’m totally free and I'd love to spar with you,” you said, praying you sounded normal and not like some lovesick woman with an overgrowing crush.

Which was exactly what you were.

But you weren't about to turn down a chance to spar with him. Who in their right mind would? How many times had you imagined him slamming your body against the mats and pinning you down? Both of you breathing heavily, his face shining from the perspiration. You were thankful the super soldier couldn't read minds because now all you could think about was him tearing your clothes away and spearing you open with his cock and-

“Okay then,” he said, finishing his coffee before he took the mug to the sink. “Second floor gym. Room 2. 6 am.”

“6 am. I’ll be there,” you promised, gazing after him as he walked toward the door. “See you then, Sergeant.”

His entire body went rigid before he looked back at you, the metal fingers of his left arm twitching. Your heart sank, worried that you said something wrong. Would he take back his offer?

You stood up from the table. “Bucky, I-”

An agent walked through the door and bumped Bucky out of the way. At least he tried to. The super soldier didn't budge.

“Excuse me,” Bucky said.

“Watch it,” the agent sneered, bumping his shoulder again. He still didn't budge. “Think you're special because you got some serum in your veins and Rogers wanted to save your ass? You’re nothing.”

You gasped. You could handle people saying things about you, but people you cared about? It made you see red. How dare this guy say anything like that to Bucky?

“Nothing but HYDRA’s little bitch.”

Bucky glared and looked about two seconds away from smacking the guy across the room, but he hung his head after a second and didn't breathe a word. Maybe he didn't want to make a big deal out of it or didn't think it was worth it. You, however, wouldn't put up with it. Not for a second.

“Hey! Agent asshole,” you snapped, marching over until you were between Bucky and the agent. “Apologize to him.”

The agent cackled at you and you heard Bucky’s metal fingers curl. “Apologize? He was in my way.” He reached out a hand to pat your head. “But it’s kind of cute to see you defending the Winter Soldier. That's-” You grabbed his wrist and twisted it. “Ow, fuck!”

“And now I’m in your way,” you said sweetly, twisting a bit more until his knees buckled. “Apologize, now.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry!” he shouted.

Bucky had a look of awe on his face when you looked back at him. “It’s okay,” he said above a whisper.

You released the guy and pointed at the door. “Whatever you need you can get it later,” you said, satisfied when the agent scrambled out the door.

Bucky stared at you when you faced him, silence hanging in the air. “You okay?” you finally asked. Was twisting the guy’s wrist too much?

“I…” Bucky blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. “You defended me.”

“Well, yeah. I told you if anyone gave you a hard time they could deal with me,” you smiled. It didn't matter how small the matter was, you’d stick up for him. People like that guy often mistook your kindness for weakness. “And what he said was completely out of line.”

“Thank you.” His fingers reached out and touched yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Really. Thank you.”

“Don't need to thank me,” you said, giddy from his small touch. “And, listen, before he rudely interrupted, I was going to ask if it bothered you that I called you Sergeant.”

You thought you saw his fingers twitch again, but he shook his head. “No. I… kind of like hearing that from you.”

“Oh.” You dipped your head to hide your smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then? 6 am?”

“Yeah, you will,” he said softly, meeting your gaze as you lifted your head again.

“Have a good day then, Sergeant.”

He inhaled sharply. “Don’t be late tomorrow,” he gruffly spoke before he left the room without another word, hearts in your eyes as you stayed rooted to the spot.

You mentally jumped for joy from how excited you were. You couldn't keep the smile off your face the rest of the day. Bucky could've asked anyone in the building to spar with him, but he chose you. And he stuck up for you because some guy bumped into you. Now you just had to make sure you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in the morning.

Easy enough, right?

You spent more time than you cared picking out the perfect exercise outfit. It didn't matter what you wore since he only asked you to practice with him. It wasn't like he asked you out on a date. Still, you were hopeful that the matching black set would make him look at least once.

If anything, it was a confidence booster for yourself since you liked how you looked in it.

“Confidence is sexy,” you smiled before you grabbed your bag to go.

You got to the gym in record time, not wanting to be late or keep him waiting. Nodding to a few people on machines before you made it to the second floor, you had to pause and take a breath before you entered Room 2. The air was a bit cooler in the sparring area, which was good considering you’d likely work up a sweat.

Dropping your bag near the door, you nearly jumped when you spotted Bucky a few feet away staring at you. “Right on time,” he said, your throat dry as he nodded to the mat. “I stretched before you got here.”

“Hey,” you said, removing your jacket, the zipper loud in the quiet room. You gave him what you hoped was a nice smile when you went to the mat. “Shouldn't take me long.”

The Sergeant stood against the wall with his arms crossed as you began to stretch, one foot pressed against it as his eyes slid over to you. Quickly averting your gaze, you tried to concentrate on warming up instead of how good he looked in his workout gear. While his sweatpants hung low on his hips, the dark short sleeved shirt clung to him like a second skin. He had his hair pulled back, too, which only enhanced how bright his eyes looked under the ceiling lights.

You refused to get aroused just from looking at him.

Too. Fucking. Late.

“You good? You don't seem as chipper as usual,” he said.

“Yeah, I…” What were you even going to say? That his mere presence in his current attire made you wet? “I didn't have my coffee before I left, so no caffeine. This might wake me up.”

He didn't seem convinced, but he nodded after a moment. “I know the feeling,” he said with a soft smile. “Thanks for joining me so early. And sorry if it threw off your routine.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Morning exercises are good for the mind and body,” you said, standing once you finished stretching. He probably had a full schedule ahead of him. “I have to admit though, just like you were surprised I was nice to you a while back, I'm a little surprised you asked me to spar with you.”

“And why is that?” he asked as he approached the mat, all confidence as he took his spot.

Your throat went dry again before you cleared it. “Because someone like Steve is more evenly matched,” you said. Super soldier to super soldier, you could go for hours. “And chances of me beating you are also pretty slim.”

Way to downplay yourself.

“You nearly brought that agent to his knees yesterday and you didn't break a sweat.” His head tilted a fraction, his eyes carefully taking you in from head to toe. “You don't think you can take me?”

Your next breath came out in a rush. If you didn't know any better, you would've said he asked that on purpose. Oh, you had imagined Bucky telling you how well you'd take him, but not like this. You'd take what you can get.

“I can take you,” you stated.

You could only describe the look in his eyes as feral as he got into position. “I'm sure you can,” he said, your only warning before he rushed at you.

Blocking Bucky’s hit, you told yourself not to smile and focused on dodging another hit. He had advantages on his side, like his strength with the serum in his veins, but you were determined to show him that you were a worthy opponent. You also knew he wouldn't try to harm you. Anything he threw your way would be to help you improve.

Bucky grinned when he blocked your kick and you almost let it distract you. “I think you're giving me a run for my money,” he said before he performed a back full twisting layout to dodge another kick. Was that the proper term? Whatever it was, the move was more agile than you could comprehend.

“And I think you’re showing off,” you teased, extending your leg for a sweep instead. You huffed when he flipped away again. “Either that or Steve’s theatrics have rubbed off on you.”

“Don't tell him that. Wouldn't want him to get a big head,” he winked.

The back and forth went on for a few minutes, your breathing heavier and heart racing. Part of you wondered if he was pulling punches for your sake, but he didn't let up. It was exhilarating. You hoped he asked you to spar with him again.

“Tell me something.” Bucky brushed some of the loose hair back with the back of his hand, both of you panting lightly as the motions stopped for a second. “Why are you single?”

Your eyes widened at the question. “W-What?” you breathed, almost losing your footing as you stepped back. Why would he ask you that and why now?

“You told me why you don't use dating apps and you want to make a genuine connection, but you haven't mentioned anyone special,” he shrugged, tilting his head when he stepped forward. “You know you can tell me if there’s someone you like, right?”

“Maybe we can have this conversation when we’re done sparring?” you suggested. It would give you a chance to collect yourself.

He shook his head. “No, I think we should have this conversation now, if that’s okay.”

“I guess. If you insist.” You blocked his swing, barely. “There’s… someone I like, but I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

His cheek twitched, like he wasn't expecting that answer. “Who is he? Do I know him?”

That question threw you off a bit more. Why did he want to know who? “Yeah. Yeah, you do,” you said.

“Is it Steve? Sam?” he pressed, a hint of anger in his eyes. “Some other agent?”

“No, no, and no,” you replied, sighing as you dropped your arms. “Listen, do we really-”

Bucky swept your legs out from under you. The air left your lungs when your back hit the mat and he settled over you before you could get up, pinning your arms at your side. You tried to twist out of his hold and couldn't even use your thighs to roll him off you since he had those pinned, too.

“You let your guard down,” he said.

“Yep,” you said, the word clipped as you tried to look anywhere but at him. It was impossible. He was everywhere.

“Now this guy you like,” he started with a tilt of his head. He wasn't letting this go, was he? “If it’s someone I know and he isn't Steve, Sam, or another agent, who is he?”

You bit your lip, wishing you a chance to hide or bolt.

“Tell me,” he begged, his eyes staring into yours. “Please.”

Oh, God. Did he have any clue how you felt? At the very least, could he sense how he affected you by laying on top of you? How hard your nipples were against your top or the wetness that gathered between your thighs?

Now wasn't the time to focus on being horny.

He sighed when you didn’t speak. “Answer this then: Is there even the slightest chance that it’s me?” he asked, the question hanging in the air between you.

“I…” You swallowed hard as he waited patiently for your answer with an expectant gaze. He was so close and the position was too vulnerable, but you had to bite the bullet and tell him the truth. “It isn't a slight chance. It's one hundred percent you.”

“What?” he whispered.

Super soldier hearing, he should've heard you perfectly clear, right? “I like you, Bucky. I care about you. I pretty much have since I met you,” you finished, the quiet admittance making your chest burn.

It was out in the open now and no longer suppressing your feelings was a good thing.

He stared straight into your eyes, your heart picking up a notch. “You like me?” The weight of him left your thighs, but you couldn't breathe when he settled between them. “At the risk of sounding like an arrogant prick, are you single because you’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, swallowing again. “And you aren’t arrogant. Far from it.”

“So, every morning we’ve had coffee together and even before that, you cared about me? And when I brought up the dating app a couple of days ago and you offered to help me, you had feelings for me? And when you defended me?” He tilted his head further when you nodded. “And you didn't say anything until now?” It didn't feel like an accusation, but your eyes welled up anyway.

“Yes, the whole time. I didn't want to tell you and make things weird if you didn't feel the same way and I would've rather have you as a friend than nothing at all. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rambled as a tear slid from the corner of your eye. You weren't trying to deceive him by keeping your crush on him a secret. “We are kind of friends, right?”

The two of you hadn’t hung out outside of work, but there was something there. At the very least, there was a comradery. After this, who knew if he’d even want to speak to you again.

“I don't want to be your friend,” he said with conviction, your heart shattering. It was like he punched you right in the gut and maybe you deserved that. He smiled softly, something beautifully tragic when you struggled beneath him. Why wasn't he letting you up? “Wait, no, no. That’s not what I meant.”

You went limp when you couldn't break his hold. “Then what do you mean?!”

“I want to be so much more than that.”

“You…” the rest of the words died on your lips because what did he say?

A metal finger moved down your cheek, the touch cool against your warm skin as he wiped another tear away. The finger then tipped your chin before his mouth descended on yours. You weren't sure why you expected it to be a rough kiss, but it was anything but. His lips teased yours along with his tongue, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. It was demanding in the gentlest of ways.

It wasn't a rushed kiss either. It was thorough, slow, like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Did he have any idea of the spark he ignited within you? It was something hot, needy, out of control. Fire raced through your veins. You'd go up in flames if he kept kissing you like that. Like you meant something to him.

“I care about you, too,” he whispered. You inhaled sharply when he trailed kisses along your face. “I’ve liked you since we met.”

“You have?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I hoped you might feel the same, but I’m a bit rusty when it comes to this and I couldn't get a read on you when I mentioned the dating app. I figured this approach might be better.”

“Well,” you gasped when you felt something hard pressed against you. “It worked,” you said. You were glad he took the leap of faith.

“I’ll always remember the first time you smiled at me. I won't let anyone take that memory away from me,” he groaned against your skin, your eyes tearing up again. “And the way you stuck up for me… I don’t deserve you. I don't know if I ever will.”

“Don't say that,” you begged when he released your other wrist, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around him. “You deserve every bit of happiness.”

He smiled as his kisses moved down to your neck and you could only whimper when he licked and sucked over your pulse. “You're so caring. So good,” he said, rocking his hips forward. The sweet words combined with the sensual movements of his body fueled your desire. You also bit your lip to keep from bursting into tears from his praise. “And you're so beautiful, you know that? Inside and out.”

“You keep talking like that, I’ll keep crying,” you tried to joke.

He lifted his head to wipe another tear away. “Happy tears?”

“Very happy,” you promised, shifting underneath him and brushing his crotch again.

His mouth fell open as his eyes shut. It was one of the sexiest looks you had ever seen. “If you keep doing that, I’ll embarrass myself,” he said in a strained voice.

“Is that a bad thing?” you smiled innocently.

“Maybe not. I have a quick rebound rate if I do,” he teased, frowning when your smile slipped. “Shit, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“I’m fine. You didn’t say anything wrong,” you promised, touching his cheek. “I just… Am I dreaming?”

His lips touched yours again, You would’ve melted into the mat if you weren’t already underneath him. “You’re not dreaming,” he whispered. The groan he let out when you moved beneath him again reminded you that he really was settled between your legs. And hard. “I wanted to take you out on a nice date before I even touched you, but I don’t know if I can wait. You’re driving me crazy.”

Well, nothing had happened quite yet. Just a confession of feelings. And some kissing. And grinding.

“You’re driving me crazy, too, but if you want to stop, I understand,” you said. It didn't have to go further if he didn't want to, especially since it was fast.

His forehead touched yours. “Do you?”

You nearly shouted that you didn’t want him to stop, would never want him to stop, but this wasn’t just about you. “I don’t, but I get it if you do,” you said. You were kind of in a public place and consent went both ways. If he was the slightest bit uncomfortable, you were fine with stopping.

It seemed to be all he needed to hear since he kissed you again, eagerly licking into your mouth. Your heart was still racing out of control, the high from the exercise running through your veins. You wondered if he felt that adrenaline, too. If the confession of your feelings was the water against the dam, admitting that you wanted him physically, too, was the thing to break it.

“It’s just… I don’t…” He lifted his head to look around before he smiled. “Wait, hold on.”

He pushed himself up, your body cold from the sudden lack of heat. The tent he sported in his pants sent a surge of pride through you as he went as gracefully as he could to the door. Locking it, he went to his bag next and dug out a towel.

“What are you doing?” you asked when he came back quickly.

“Trying to be a gentleman,” he smiled, lifting your hips to place the towel underneath. “Sorry, the mat’s just kind of dirty and I think you deserve a little better than that.”

“You certainly are a gentleman,” you smiled back.

“The things I want to do to you are far from gentlemanly,” he said, reaching for the waistband of your pants and peeling them down with your underwear. You were sweaty and gross, but if he didn’t care, you wouldn’t either. “I wish I could lay you out and kiss every inch of your body.”

“Maybe after I shower,” you teased, both of you chuckling as you helped push his pants and underwear down. Once all was said and done the two of you could talk and figure out a date and him properly taking you to bed, but having him take you then and there was perfect. “Oh…”

Words left your mind when you saw his hard and heavy cock. A bead of precum dripped from the head and you wished you could have a taste. There was a good chance he’d split you in half, but it would be worth feeling him for days on end.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, opening your legs more as an offering. You didn’t care if it made you look desperate for him, which you were. You just hoped it looked enticing.

With blown pupils and a small growl, he shook his head. It was enough to make you want to cry. “I need to stretch you first, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment made you smile even when you argued, “I don’t need you to stretch me. I can take it.”

He narrowed his eyes, but gave you a smile, too, as he brought his hand to your scorching heat. “We’re both desperate for this, but I’m going to stretch your pretty cunt to make room for my cock. Got it?”

Shivering at his tone, you nodded. “Yes, Sergeant,” you answered, biting your lip when you saw his cock twitch. “You really like me saying that, don't you?”

“Yes,” he groaned. You’d have to keep calling him that in and out of bed then.

He rubbed along your folds slowly, like he was memorizing the feel. Deep down, he was a gentleman. Badly wanting you, but making sure he wouldn’t hurt you. What more could you ask for?

“Can I confess something?” he asked gently as the first finger sank into you, gently exploring. Gasping at the welcomed intrusion, you nodded. He could say anything he wanted. “I've imagined you just like this,” he stated, pulling his finger out before pushing it in deeper.

“You have?” you asked before he pushed a second finger in, both of them curling slightly. It sent sparks of pleasure down your spine.

“It almost felt wrong because I hadn’t even asked you to go out with me, but I couldn’t help myself.” His voice was huskier as he pumped his fingers, your hand fisting in his shirt. You throbbed with need, a kind of need you couldn’t ever remember feeling. “I wondered what kind of sounds you’d make and how you’d feel around me if you ever let me have you.”

More heat pooled in your core as you spread your legs wider for him.

“Making such pretty sounds for me already. And your pussy, it feels like heaven. Might even make me see God once I have my cock in you.” He glanced down to watch his fingers slide in and out of your tight passage, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Fuck, you’re so warm. And tight. And wet,” he continued, an almost cocky smile on his face when his thumb swiped over your clit and drew a small whimper from you. "Guess I haven’t completely lost my touch.”

“That is both hot and…” you had to pause when he added a third finger, making you stretch around the digits. He was going to be the death of you. “Is it bad if I’m a little jealous because I don’t want to think about you touching anyone else?”

Something sparked in his pretty blue eyes. “Does my girl have a jealous streak?” He slid a fourth finger in, your back arching with a small cry. “I’m flattered, but you have nothing to worry about. You’re the only one I want.”

Your breaths were shallow from his touch alone, but the sweet words got under your skin. “You don’t have to worry about anyone else either,” you exhaled. He knew you weren’t seeing anyone, but you felt the need to assure him. “And I like that.”

“Like what?”

Your hand twisted in his shirt more. “The idea of being your girl,” you managed to answer, your body writhing as he moved his fingers in a beautifully torturous motion. “Enough, Bucky, please.”

“Enough what?”

“I’m stretched. I’m on the pill. Just… put your cock in me, please!” Panting by the end of your begging rant with mist in your eyes, you added, “Can I at least touch you if you won’t fuck me?”

The beautiful bastard had the nerve to laugh when he took his fingers out. “Kind and steadfast, even when you’re begging to get fucked,” he said, his eyes slipping shut for a second as he licked the first two fingers clean. “I promise you can touch me later if you let me get a proper taste of your sweet cunt.”

Your cheeks got so hot it shocked you that you didn’t catch on fire. “Yes, please,” you whispered, the promise of later making you quiver.

The room felt like it was spinning when he stared down at you and licked his fingers again. He kept his eyes on you when he wrapped them around his cock and guided it to your waiting hole. You tried to calm the beating of your heart when he slipped the blunt head in, but you were powerless to do anything but feel as he kept pushing in. You trembled and gripped his shoulders once his hips were flush against yours, throbbing around his thickness already when hadn't started thrusting.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gasped, dropping his forehead to yours again as he trembled, too. “I need…” he breathed against your lips. “I just need a second, please.”

“Okay,” you whispered, wondering if he was as overwhelmed as you were. Maybe moreso. You weren’t sure exactly how long it had been for him. And being enhanced, you didn’t know if the sensations felt different or stronger. You just hoped he felt good. And happy.

His metal hand framed your cheek, so gentle in contrast to the damage he could do with it. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, tilting your head up to kiss him. “I can take it,” you promised. Your body had adjusted to his size and now you wanted him to move, to feel all of him.

He finally began to thrust, moaning against your lips. You lifted your hips, trying to take him in more. The hand on your face slid down your body before it moved to your hip, keeping you in place so you could feel him nice and deep. He pulled his cock out almost completely before he thrust back in, making you cry out as you quivered around him. You wanted to soak his cock, consume him the way he was consuming you.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised as you bit your lip. “No, lemme hear those pretty sounds. C’mon,” he said, changing his angle slightly so you moaned loudly. He moaned, too, as he kept thrusting. “There you go. So beautiful.”

You wanted to scream for him. You also wondered what it would feel like to have his hand around your throat or over your mouth to smother those very sounds if you ever snuck off during work to fool around. There were so many things you wanted to try with him.

“Bucky,” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders as he moved faster. Piercing pleasure built from your core and spread slowly throughout your body. You felt like you couldn’t breathe from how good it felt, how he felt.

The intensity in his turbulent eyes was similar to when he listened to you talk in the break room, but with much more heat. Had he looked at you like that all along? “Wanna mark you up one day. Let everyone see that you’re my girl,” he grunted, dragging his mouth from your face to your neck. He lightly bit down, smirking when you whined again. “Would you let me?”

“Yes,” you moaned, tilting your head to give him more access. You’d feel so proud to wear his mark. There wouldn’t be any shame if people saw or asked because you’d get to say you belonged to Bucky.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped, surging into you over and over, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls with your cries. “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last.”

The term of endearment again. It had your heart clenching along with your pussy. “Neither am I,” you breathed, bringing his head back to yours. You framed his cheeks, ecstasy close to crashing over you. From the strain in his handsome face, he was on the edge, too. “Come with me? Mark me up inside?”

It was a question and not a demand because you wouldn’t demand anything from the man who somehow stole your heart.

Through the pleasure twisting his face, he smiled. “Come with me.”

The heightened pleasure crashing over you was powerful enough that you almost screamed, your walls spasming around him. Shudders wracked your body as your breath ceased, trying to hold his gaze as the heat engulfed you. Your release coated him, just like you wanted it to. And it was only a few more thrusts from him before he tipped over the edge, filling you up in return. You both marked each other in the best possible way.

You laid limp beneath him, both of you panting. Your slick, wet heat still burned around him as released your hips and pushed himself up, a bead of sweat from his skin dripping onto yours. You gazed at each other, something tender passing between you. You wished the moment didn't have to end.

He leaned back down to nuzzle your nose and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly at the affectionate move. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, still dazed. “You?”

“Better than okay,” he said, smiling when you tucked some of his hair back. He looked good like this.

“I don't think I can move,” you teased.

“We have to, sadly,” he sighed, sliding himself from the warmth of your body. You whined at the loss, your hole clenching around nothing as your mixed release seeped onto the towel beneath you. “I know, but in case the next group that uses this room gets here early, I don’t want them to see you with your pants down,” he told you as he sat back and looked over you. You took a moment to look over him as well, getting a glance at his glorious thighs. You longed for the chance for you both to truly explore each other’s bodies. “And we could both use a shower.”

You inhaled when he used the clean part of the towel to gently wipe you both down. “Mmm. Together?”

He chuckled, helping you pull your underwear and pants back up. His hands lingered on your hips and you were two seconds from shoving the fabric back down. “If I get you in the shower, we won’t make it to work on time.”

“I don’t mind being late.” You tried to lift your arms to help him pull up his pants, too, but he beat you to it. It was a shame he had to cover up. “Or we could call in? I still have a lot of days off to use.”

“Yeah? You want to call in?”

“Yeah,” you said eagerly. Too eagerly. “Maybe?”

You almost shrank in on yourself when he raised an eyebrow. He told you he cared about you and he sure as hell just fucked you like he craved you, but you didn’t want to come across as clingy, especially so soon. The two of you still needed to figure things out.

And what if the things said were just from the heat of the moment? You weren't sure if your heart could take it if he walked away without another thought. He wouldn't do that though, right?

His gaze softened, helping you sit up, his face inches from yours as he rubbed your arms. “Hey. What’s the matter?” he asked, your heart in your throat when he smiled again. “Was I that bad?”

“No, not at all. You were amazing, holy shit, and telling you how I feel was long overdue,” you promised, his smile softer. “It’s just…”

His brows pinched. “It’s just what?”

You took a breath. “I've wanted to hear for so long that you had feelings for me, too. And now that it’s really sinking in, I guess I still feel like I’m dreaming a bit. That none of this happened,” you admitted, placing your hand on his chest. His heart was still beating fast, like yours. “That tomorrow I’ll just go back to being the girl who has a crush on you and nothing more.”

“What?” His face slowly fell. Why did you open your mouth? “No, that's not going to happen.”

“We just went from work friends to whatever just transpired, and I don’t want it to be too much or too fast for you or for you to regret this,” you blurted out, biting your lip hard. “I don't want to be too much for you,” you added in a whisper. Your insecurity surfaced more as the post-sex haze faded and you wished it hadn't. “I’m sorry. I don't know why I’m ruining the moment.”

It was stupid. Where had your optimism gone? He told you he cared about you. He gazed at you like you meant something to him. It was everything you wanted, so why were you questioning it?

“You didn't ruin anything.”

“Are you sure?” you asked softly.

Bucky placed his hand over yours, the other going to the back of your head so you couldn't move away. “I’m sure, now listen to me: Whatever is going on between us isn’t too much and you are not too much. You are never too much,” he said with fierceness akin to a growling wolf. “I want you and I want to be with you. I wouldn’t joke about that,” he assured you, your lips tugging in a small smile. “I get feeling like it's a dream, believe me, but it isn't. It's real and what just happened was real.”

Hearing him declare his feelings again made your heart soar. “I know you wouldn’t joke about that,” you said. He wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t toy with your feelings like that. “I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

“I do and I am happy,” he said, his eyes full of longing. He experienced so much pain and loss and deserved happiness. “I’ve lost so much of my life, so much time, and I don't want to waste another second. So believe me when I say I want you to be my girl.”

A sob threatened to work its way up. “Oh, Bucky,” you whispered, your head dipping down before he lifted it back up.

“That connection you’ve talked about wanting, I feel that with you. I trust you. That’s why I’ve been able to open up to you. The person who made me coffee and offered me kindness and understanding and just let me be me,” he said, making you smile more. You wished you could wrap each word around your heart. “I want to hold your hand in the break room and kiss you in the halls. I want you today and I’ll want you tomorrow and the day after that. And the only thing I regret from any of this is not asking you to be my girl sooner.”

His words, his stare, his touch, they healed the senseless wound your insecurity put on your heart. “I’m yours.” You surged forward, your lips crashing against his. He sighed before he returned the kiss, likely feeling the same relief you had. You wished you could put into words how much his assurance meant, but you hoped your kiss expressed it. “Thank you for both coaxing my feelings out of me and assuring me that you want this.”

“Anytime.” He brushed another kiss across your lips. “You know how you said you hoped the next person who dated me knew how lucky they were?” he asked. You remembered. “I'm the lucky one because you’re taking a chance on me.”

“You’re a smooth talker.” You had no clue how you kept the tears at bay. It meant everything that he wanted to be with you. “I think we’re both lucky.”

He smiled at that. “Yeah, but I still don’t deserve you,” he whispered, kissing you again before you could argue that he was more than worthy. “So, you want to spend the day with me?”

“Yeah, I do. We can go on a day date or just talk some more at my place or yours,” you answered, not feeling the need to hide anymore. “That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“Sweetheart, you just let me fuck you on a sparring mat. You can ask me for anything you want,” he smirked, catching your face between his hands. “But this day date doesn’t count as the nice date I want to take you on. My girl deserves something special.”

Your heart tightened in your chest, your emotions starting to run high again before you took a calming breath. “Then how about after that shower we call in, go to a cafe, get a cup of coffee, and figure out that date together? Maybe I’ll even convince you that you do deserve me.”

He huffed, taking your hands and helping you both up. You’d never be able to look at a pair of sweatpants again without thinking of what transpired there. “Okay, but I’m warning you right now that I probably won’t like the coffee.”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t make it,” he smiled. “Maybe we can check out that science exhibit you mentioned.”

You giggled. He remembered. “That would be nice,” you said, leaning close when he slipped his arm around you and guided you toward your bag. “You know, I can make more than just coffee. Just say the word and I’ll cook for you,” you said. You’d love to cook him a nice meal.

“Word,” he deadpanned.

You giggled again. “Later,” you promised. You’d make him something special. “Do you think Alpine will like me?”

“She’ll love you,” he promised, giving you a sheepish smile. “I told her all about you. And I think the last few dinners with Steve and Sam all I talked about was you.”

“You told your cat about me? You're adorable,” you smiled. It was really sweet. “And… Will Steve and Sam be happy?” They were his friends and you hoped they approved.

“Steve will be thrilled.” He huffed again. “But Sam’s opinion doesn't matter. Fuck him.”

With a teasing smile, you asked, “Wait, I thought I was supposed to give Sam a talking to. Are you offering for me to fuck him?” You shrieked when he growled and picked you up, placing you over his shoulder. “Bucky!”

“You’re not fucking anyone but me. You’re my girl and I’ll mark you up to prove it if I have to,” he said, keeping a firm hand on you as he carried you away. “But for now, let’s shower before we call in.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Bucky didn’t have to prove anything. He had you in a chokehold from the start and always would. And you were proud to finally be his girl.

Woohoo! You made it! I like to think this reader has bits of Smartie and Mrs. Barnes, and she deserves her man! I know these two will have wonderful times ahead! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[owuwi]

SHAUNA SHIPMAN.ᐟ

➤ dom!teen!shauna x afab!sub!reader

⤷ cw: shauna taking her anger out on reader, mean shauna, bitting, shauna spitting on reader's face, rough fingering, a bit of dumbification, kinda dubcon if you squint..

──────────────────────

Fuck them.

Fuck all of them—fuck Mari, fuck Nat, fuck Tai.

But specially Mari.

If that bitch got mad because of some spit in her soup, then she doesn't even know what Shauna is capable of doing. A week of house arrest as consequence for smashing Mari's face against the ground? She can handle that; after all, she's been through worst.

Shauna wasn't surprised when you ran after her, though, she was hoping you'd do it.

The minute you stepped foot in her shelter, her chapped lips were on yours—kissing you with bruising force, a kiss that would've disgusted you if it wasn't coming from your girlfriend—.

She didn't hesitate to basically throw you onto the floor and climb on top of you, not once separating her lips from yours. Shaky and warm hands quickly slid beneath the dirty clothes you were wearing with raw desperation, dry palms groping every inch of skin they had access to.

"Shauna hold on—" You tried to speak yet it was useless, she wasn't in the mood to talk. "Shut up. I don't want to fucking hear you." She growled the moment she—miraculously—pulled away from the kiss. Her lips then traveled down and hovered over your throat, sharp teeth digging in and bitting you. Hard.

Your scream of pain only fueled that deep hunger she had and she didn't even care if someone heard. Her hands proceeded to pull your shorts and panties down, revealing your cunt.

Her fingers found your clit and started drawing quick, harsh circles on the bud—her teeth still holding onto the sensitive skin of your neck with enough strength to cause you to bleed.

"Fucking bitch... i'll give her something to be mad about..." She babbled against your flesh—clearly talking about Mari—, a mix of her saliva and your blood now beginning to dribble down and stain your shirt.

Suddenly, her fingers brushed against your folds before dipping past your hole, not wasting a second before she started sliding them in and out of you—not caring if you weren't wet enough—. Despite the burning feeling the invasion of her digits were causing you, you couldn't help but feel a hint of pleasure.

Shauna could beat the life out of you and you'd still like it.

"She can't handle some spit mhm? What a fucking moron.." She rambled, though she pulled her mouth away from your neck after finishing her sentence—no longer slobbering all over you—. "You can, though, right?" She abruptly asked you yet didn't wait for your answer before she spat right on the middle of your face.

The feeling of her warm, thick saliva splattering all over your face immediately caused a whine to slip past your lips, your hips unconsciously bucking against her fingers—the tip of her digits lightly pressing against that spongey spot that turned you dumb—.

Shauna didn't care if you responded or not, she simply kept talking—knowing you were listening. "Yeah you can, you always take everything i give you..." She whispered, her breath coming in short puffs while she sped up her fingers.

The vulgar act of her spitting on you made your pussy wetter than it has ever been—gods, you loved it when Shauna went feral on you.

It was now easier for her long fingers to thrust into you; the lewd, squelching sounds your cunt made as it swallowed her digits were loud enough for the other girls to hear—yet once again, she didn't care.

It didn't take long before you started to tighten around her, her strokes becoming sloppier as your arousal slowly traveled down your thighs. Your hand wrapped around her forearm as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the combination of her fingerfucking you and talking to you like that making your brain fuzzy.

"S-Shauna..." You whined out her name, your back arching off the cold floor and your hand gripping her forearm rougher than before.

Shauna being Shauna just couldn't get enough of you—she needed more; more of your sounds, of your reactions, and she knew how to get them.

Slowly, she added a third finger into your spasming hole; the sight of you jolting and moaning being the reason for her smirk.

Was it too much? Definitely. Yet, for some reason, the pain felt too good.

"Take it, i know you can." She told you—almost commanding you—before leaning down and messily kissing you again while she stretched you out.

Before you could warn her, your body shook. A loud, breathy moan erupted from your throat as your orgasm hit you like a damn train. Whimpering against her mouth, you couldn't help but trash around beneath her as your walls fluttered against her fingers—the stimulation you were receiving causing tears to swell up in the corner of your eyes.

The brown-eyed girl's problems immediately faded away as you came. Even with how rough she was being, you were the most important thing in her life—the only thing she had left. You knew how to make her feel better and the best part was that you didn't even need to do anything.

She dragged her lips away from yours and pressed them all over your face, leaving a wet trail in their path, before slowly pulling her fingers out of your drooling pussy.

Shauna will get back at them one of these days—she'll make them regret treating her like shit—, but not today.

Right now, you were all that mattered.

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hii, i just read all and i mean ALL of ur fics, but i saw you wrote for arcane women and was wondering if you could write headcanons abt them with a socially awkward/anxious reader?? If not thats A-Ok 👌 with me

Sure! How is everyone doing after the first three eps? I still haven't seen it but the edits I've seen... oh boy.

"I Got You." | Arcane Ladies Headcanons

╰┈➤ PLOT: How the ladies of Arcane(Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Mel) act with a socially awkward and/or anxious partner

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Spoiler Free, On The Shorter Side, Cursing, Not Proofread

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

JINX

– At first, Jinx didn't get that you were socially awkward. She was used to people being awkward or even scared around her so she thought it was the same case with you until you two got closer.

– After knowing that your awkwardness was just you and not your fear of her, she observed you in social situations and noted what made you more anxious than normal.

– For example, she noticed you're more anxious and timid in bigger, louder spaces but if a space was quiet and quaint, you would be just fine so she often took you to quiet places for dates.

– If Jinx notices you're anxious in places you typically aren't, without a doubt she's removing you from the situation and taking you home where you can relax. No words, just grabs and tugs.

– She's tried the pep talk route before but it ended up in her rambling and somehow planning a terrorist scheme aloud... (yeah, a few patrons quickly left the area after hearing that), so she decided to scrap that idea altogether.

– At home though she would prepare what she calls, "A Safety Nest". It was a place in your shared space that had all your favorite things and trinkets, and she usually kept the space dimly lit and played your favorite music to calm you down.

– In social interactions where you take the lead in conversation, Jinx would quietly encourage you with big, almost alarming smiles and "gentle" pats on your back. Let's face it, Jinx can be socially awkward herself.

– Once the conversation concludes, she'll jump on you proudly, ruffle up your clothing, and pinch your cheeks endearingly all while calling you weird nicknames and quoting what you said while mimicking your tone and cadence.

––

VI

– Before you've had your first real conversation together, Vi could sense that you were an anxious individual.

– You fidgeted with your body while speaking, didn't hold eye contact long, and used a decent amount of filler words to casualize your sentences.

– She thought it was endearing to watch you act and move as if you thought no one truly cared about what you were saying or were afraid of boring others but you never bored her. She didn't think it was possible.

– You had tells and quips that revealed themselves with each conversation you two had. You showed more and more of your personality the more you got comfortable with her too. Vi loved it.

– When you spoke to her, especially when you went on tangents about things you were interested in, she always showed signs of active listening by nodding and asking follow-up questions. Even days later, she'll bring up the topic again to see if you have any updates.

– She made you feel seen and heard, something you've subconsciously craved. And when you went on your worry rambles, she consoled you and tried her best to stop you from spiraling.

– You thought about a lot of things and oftentimes about things no one else thought about. Vi thought your brain must've been exhausted with all the worries, doubts, and judgments that were usually wrapped up as others' but were truly your own; it was a lot for one person to handle so she strove to let you know that you were not alone.

– Is there a night you can't sleep because of your racing mind? Vi is there, holding you or reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. She can't sleep until you do anyway so why not speed the process along?

– You often had yourself stuck with your head stressing and worrying about multiple things at once and Vi was always there to bring you down to Earth.

__

CAITLYN

– Caitlyn's an encourager and a comforter with you.

– She's patient and silently allows you to take your time when gathering your thoughts midconversation but she'll also be the one to say, "It's okay, take your time," in the sweetest way possible.

– If there's an instance when you two are out and about and you really want something but are too scared to get it, she'll spring into action and get that thing for you. (Even if it was just a napkin).

– The only time she's frazzled socially is when you both are in an unfamiliar area and need to ask for directions. She'll stumble over her words and try to get someone's attention but they're moving too fast to hear her soft words.

– She'll get frustrated and you end up comforting her, but after a few backrubs, she's ready to try again. Her voice is strong and powerful, and people have no problem hearing her.

– You secretly thank whomever you have to for her determination but there was no way in hell you were going to walk up to a stranger and ask for directions like a tourist... which you were.

– Since Caitlyn's job has her socializing with a lot of people, she can get burnt out easily. Especially if work hasn't been going her way lately but even if she's burnt out and tired, if you seem to be more awkward or anxious than her, she's more than happy to step up socially.

– When you both have someplace to attend to or some event that holds significance, Caitlyn will not hesitate to stage a "social rehearsal" with you. She'll make flashcards of topics you could bring up, you'll both dress accordingly for the event in her living room, and she'll pretend to be an assortment of people so you can get used to different personalities all at once.

– It may seem like this is all for you, but honestly it helps her too. Sometimes she misses the personal cues of conversation leading the other to think she's a black-and-white thinking who has no time for pleasanties. Not true! She's very pleasant... sometimes she's just shy.

– Shyness is not a crime!

– After talking with the host and a few others she has to talk to due to her job, her social battery is depleted. She's extremely thankful you're able to recognize this and suggest leaving early. What would you two do without each other?

––

SEVIKA

– Oh, man. This lady found your awkwardness charming as hell.

– Your awkwardness was different than all the nerds and scaly-beings she's forced to be around. You were cute, looked perfect sitting next to her, and your awkwardness, as mentioned before, had a certain charming quality she can't quite place.

– She'll see you in your workplace trying to make casual conversation or small talk but none of your topics seemed to be landing. Your coworkers would give you a thin pressed-lips smile that she wanted to strike off of them to your attempts and then scoff at you behind your back.

– You were authentically yourself and those bastards didn't know what to do with it. They were scared, not her though.

– When you two got closer and comfortable enough with each other that you could tease one another or make playful jabs at the other's expense, no doubt she would tease you about your awkwardness.

– With those gorgeous eyes of yours, you would look everywhere else but her own, prompting her to say, "You know you can look me in the eyes, right? I won't bite", with the stupidest most shit-eating smirk on her face. And then when you look at her, a bit shocked and playfully annoyed, her smirk would only grow. "Unless you want me to."

– Sevika never made your awkwardness seem like a flaw. Your awkwardness came with you and she wanted all of you so she often encouraged your awkwardness.

– If she caught you trying to "reel" it in or realizing that you've talked for a few seconds too long, she'll playfully scold you and tell you to continue or to "let it out". Y'know. As someone who seethes dominance does.

– There would be an instance in which you go to Sevika asking for advice to be "less awkward" and her only response would be, "Why? I like your awkwardness, you don't need to change it. Anyone else who thinks otherwise is a sad loser and don't deserve to be in your life anyways."

– like damnnnn, okay!

– Safe to say you never asked her a question like that again.

--

MEL

– Mel understands your worries about what others think and the awkwardness that can come with it so she likes to help you in any way she can.

– If you're stressed about a council meeting and afraid of what everyone's going to think about the new perspective you'd like to bring to the table, she'll reassure you and tell you she's right by your side.

– If she can't physically with her hand on the small of your back, she give you nods of encouragement, raise her brows proudly, and look at you with that sense of pride and admiration in her golden eyes.

– After the meeting goes well, which she knew would, she'll congratulate you with your favorite drink and a night in doing all your favorite things.

– Even if there were parts in the meeting that were rocky, like the council people asking questions you weren't prepared for or getting rowdy, she'll say you did an excellent job and what you presented will help the people of Piltover.

– Oh, and don't think for a second that she wasn't sending glares and daggers to those who stirred up your anxiety even more. If looks could kill.

– Mel sees that sometimes your awkwardness and anxiety result in people-pleasing and she would shut that down real quick. She's fallen into that dangerous pool before and knows how hard it feels when you disappoint others and how much harder it is to get out of that mindset.

– She can get quite spirited with her encouragement...

– "Well, if they don't like it, that's on them! They don't know something good when they see it." "I've learned that hard way that you can't please everyone. You might as well say what you have to now. They can get over themselves later."

– It's actually quite attractive to see her stand up for you, even if she was standing up for the possibility.

– Always keeping her words in your mind, you find yourself navigating through life easier and you only have her to thank.

WC: 1,705