#i hate to do that but at this point it's so much more trouble than it's worth with these kids
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â IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT III
eris vanserra x archeron!reader
summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. itâs a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his lifeâs mission to be the most annoying male in your life.
a/n: sorry for such a long break!! pls let me know what u think and again if youâd like to be added to the tag list send me a message or ask as I rarely check my notifs and go back to them. also sorry abt the cliffhanger uhmmmm also unedited ok bye
âYou look like crap.â
Your eyes flutter open to see Mor scrunching up her face as she peers at you from her seat across your own at the dining table. It takes a second for her words to register and you throw a belated scowl her way.
âGood morning to you too,â you mumble, sitting up to continue swirling your spoon around your bowl of barely eaten oatmeal. Your appetite seems to have vanished over the past week, but you try and force a spoonful down your throat, nearly gagging.
Mor narrows her eyes at you and her lips press into a thin line of concern. âNo, you seriously look like crap. Youâre not eating lately and you were literally asleep at the table when I got here.â
âI wasnât asleep,â you say, defensively. âI was resting my eyes.â
âYou sound like Cassian after a three hour afternoon nap.â
âIâm just having a little trouble sleeping.â You set your spoon down and push the offending bowl away from you before slumping in your seat. You brush off her skeptical look with a wave of your hand. âIâm always like this after absorbing Fae magic.â
And over the last few days youâve been absorbing a lot. All in an attempt to find out as much as you could about the Fae rebel group that had been attacking the borders of multiple Courts, in order to weaken them and make a point against you.
Well, you and your sisters. Not all of Prythian was accepting of Feyre for how she was Made, and even less so of you and Nesta and Elain. Instead, they viewed you as unnatural mutations and the whispers had only become worse after the War. It seemed that the lack of conflict looming over Prythian was unacceptable in their eyes.
With the help of your powers and Azrielâs shadows, you were closer than ever to finding them. Truthfully, the idea that there were Fae out there who hated you didnât bother you so much in the sense of feeling like outcasts, but you couldnât lie. They were starting to be a giant pain in your ass.
âYouâre never like this,â Mor scoffs, gesturing to the bags under your eyes and the hollowness of your cheeks. As her voice raises, the pounding of your head gets more intense and you attempt to hold back a grimace. âWhy is it affecting you so much this time?â
âItâs the type of magic Iâm absorbing,â you practically whine, abandoning all pretences of being okay and allowing your shoulders to drop. âItâs so angry and harsh and impure, Mor! Itâs literally making me sick because I have nowhere else to redirect it.â
At that moment Rhysand and Feyre walk in to join you at the table.
Rhysand, having overheard you, chimes in as he reaches for a plate of fruit. âGood news, our little Siphon,â he nudges you lightly, the nickname making you scrunch your nose up in mock annoyance. âWe have enough information now to move forward using Az and Cass and resources from other Courts. The only thing we need you to do now is rest.â
Rhysandâs upbeat tone brings a weak smile to your face. You know that heâs being flippant to make you feel better, like he always does when youâre stressed or unwell and youâre nothing but appreciative as he whistles under his breath, nonchalantly piling some fruit onto a plate for you.
âYou should have been resting days ago,â Feyre eyes you from beside Rhys with furrowed brows, taking in your tired form. âWe told you yesterday would be too much.â
You groan, burying your face in your hands. âGive me a couple hours and Iâll be fine for the meeting in Summer.â
Mor snorts and looks up at you, amused. When you raise an eyebrow, her smile drops into an incredulous expression. âYouâre not serious.â
âI need to be there to discuss what I siphoned from that knife we found at the border of Dawn,â you say, holding up a hand and rushing out the rest of your words when Feyre opens her mouth to speak. âAnd Rhys promised me I would be there since itâll be all the High Lords, Court informants and even soldiers. I couldnât possibly not go.â
Feyre sighs, sensing that youâre not going to back down. She nods slowly, pointing at your plate. âFinish all of your breakfast and your lunch later on and then you can go.â
You let out a breath, feeling nauseous when Rhys slides your plate closer to you and simply shrugs when you glare at him. Traitor, you speak to him in your mind. He suddenly becomes very interested in a strawberry.
âWatch me,â you say confidently, waving your fork at Feyre who rolls her eyes at you and goes back to her own breakfast.
Summer court is your least favourite court at the best of times, though youâd never admit that to sweet and kind Tarquin, whoâs arguably one of your favourite High Lords.
The beautiful, shimmering lagoons arenât of interest to you as large bodies of water have always unsettled you. The warm breeze that everyone welcomes always reminds you of the times you had to suffer through sweltering heat when foraging for food with Feyre in your adolescence. Youâve always preferred a colder climate and appreciated a more muted daylight.
Considering your current health, the ripples in the water make you dizzy and the light salty breeze nearly brings your breakfast and lunch up.
Youâre thankful for the sheer, thin material of the sage coloured dress that Nuala and Cerridwen chose for you because you suddenly feel a sheen of sweat covering your body.
âAre we done sightseeing?â you ask weakly, desperate to be inside already.
Elain turns to you and winces. âYou donât look too goodâŚ.â
��Aw, thank you, Elain.â
âThatâs not what I mean,â she tuts, coming over to fan your face with her hands. You swat them away, sputtering and try to catch Rhysandâs attention to move things along. He reluctantly agrees and gestures everyone to move along, too used to your aversion to Summer.
As you all enter the palace made of gleaming marble, you hang further back to avoid the watchful eyes of Feyre who seems to be waiting to send you right back home to rest.
The palace is beautiful and you push down your nausea to look around and take in the tall arched windows. The jewelled embellishments adorning the frames trail higher and higher and you crane your neck to see them.
This turns out to be a mistake when your vision starts to blur and another wave of nausea causes your steps to falter, the world tilting sharply.
A firm hand grips your elbow in an all too familiar fashion, steadying you before youâre sent flying to the ground. Another hand settles around your waist where the cutout of your dress exposes your now damp skin, glittering with sweat.
You look up and find Erisâ amber eyes locked onto your own.
âFoolish,â he mutters, his voice sharp with irritation, yet his hands remain steady in their position, holding you up. Itâs the first word heâs uttered to you since your encounter a couple of weeks ago in the Spring Court where heâd left on frosty terms. You had seen him twice since then, but it was in the middle of meetings and siphoning sessions and he had barely spared you a single glance.
Your lips part but your senses are too overwhelmed to think of a response before he carries on, lightly shaking his head at you. âYou overexert yourself all week and then travel here? What are you trying to prove?â
âIâm fine,â you manage to say, pulling away from him, but his grip only tightens. You canât help glancing around and noticing that the growing crowd of all the Court officials has separated you from the Inner Circle. You huff out a breath as you register his words. You knew Rhysand had to communicate with the other High Lords with updates, but you didnât know that included your physical state. âGods, High Lords are such gossipsâŚâ
âYouâre not fine,â he says, scowling like youâve dreadfully inconvenienced him by nearly collapsing. His gaze flickers over the pallor of your skin and the way youâve started to shiver slightly. âYou drained yourself dry this week. And for what? To impress Rhysand? To prove something to him?â
âLet go of me, Eris,â you attempt to snap at him, but even you can hear the lack of strength in your voice. His eyes soften slightly when you say his name without your usual bite. âI canât have this same conversation with you when Iâm like this.â
âYou think I want to be the one always catching you from falling on your face? Trust me when I say I have things I would rather be doing,â he mutters, narrowing his eyes.
You grit your teeth at the reminder and heat flares in your cheeks, whether itâs from embarrassment, anger or the climate of Summer, you donât know.
Before you can retort, Eris sighs and straightens you up, still not fully letting you go. Releasing the hand around your waist, he loops your arm in his own and makes you lean on him for support. To your utter surprise, he doesnât say anything as he starts walking towards the meeting room where everyone else files in. Despite your frustration, youâre grateful for his strength.
The moment of blissful silence doesnât last too long, however. As he begins to lead you to where your family is stood and clearly looking around frantically for you, Eris leans in to whisper in your ear. âYou need to sit down at the table,â he orders quietly, High Lord behaviour on full display.
Youâre about to argue that no one else is going to be sat and he immediately catches this, cutting you off. âDonât be stubborn for once in your life,â he murmurs, breath warm against your ear, making you shiver more than you already were. âPlease?â
You quickly turn your head to meet his, shocked at the pleading in his voice. You didnât realise how close this would bring your own face to his and words leave you. Thankfully, youâve reached your family as you hear Cassianâs loud voice and it snaps you out of your little bubble.
âFinally!â he exclaims, throwing his arms up in exasperation. âWe were about to send a search and rescue team, thinking youâd finally collapsed.â
âWhy didnât you?â Eris asks, coldly.
Cassian merely rolls his eyes at Erisâ attitude and gestures at Azriel.
Feyre comes forward to take your other arm in hers and explains. âAzrielâs shadows informed us that you were with her, Eris.â She smiles warmly and sincerely at him and Rhysand nods at him in recognition of his actions. âThank you for looking after my sister.â
Eris shakes his head. âDonât thank me yet. I foresee many falls in her near future that Iâm sure I wonât be present for.â
Feyreâs mouth twitches, but she quickly smoothes her face into an expressionless one when you frown at her and she busies herself with disentangling you from Eris.
He takes a step back, dark and fiery hair catching the sunlight through the tall windows and glances at you once more, not breaking eye contact, yet his words are directed towards Feyre. âJust make sure she sits down. The Night Court doesnât need a martyr,â he says drily, before walking away.
Your mouth goes dry at the double meaning in his words, but you canât shake off the shock at seeing genuine concern in his eyes. You must have looked practically near death, but you appreciated it all the same and you donât even realise your eyes are lingering on him as he walks away until Feyre sits you down next to Nesta.
Your older sister raises an eyebrow at you, always so intuitive and you swat weakly at her to look away from you. Cassianâs eyes flit back and forth between you two, confused.
Before he can say anything, the meeting commences and you feel a shift in the energy of the room, full to the brim of Court officials, emissaries, a few warriors and of course, the High Lords around the table.
Your turn to speak comes fairly quickly since the most information regarding the Rebels is from you and Azriel. As per Rhysandâs instructions, you donât go into any details regarding your siphoning powers, instead just sharing the information you gained due to them. You try to ignore the way people are staring at your weak form, but you continue to speak with all the strength you can muster. Evidently, youâre doing a convincing job as people start to nod, satisfied and scribble things down.
When Azrielâs turn arrives, you zone out a little, already having heard everything a few times over. Your ears only perk up when everyone is discussing plans of action against the Rebels and a question is asked in your general direction.
âWho are we thinking is to be at the front lines of this hypothetical mission?â The question comes from one of the Spring Court advisors, Vaelith, an older Fae with silver hair gathered in one long braid down his back.
His gaze lingers on you for only a split second before moving onto Rhysand and you feel compelled to answer. âMyself and Azriel,â you blurt out, before you can think twice. âAnd others of course, but the two of us are the most familiar with-â
âWeâre all aware of the Shadowsingerâs abilities,â Vaelith interrupts you, holding up a hand to stop you from talking. You hold back a scowl. âWhat makes you suitable to lead such a mission aside from your⌠familiarity with a selection of items left behind by these Rebels?â
âIâm more than able to-â you cut yourself off and swallow, gaining yourself a second to think of a way to defend yourself without giving away your powers, as per your High Lordâs request.
Careful, Y/N
Rhysandâs voice sounds clear as day in your head and you try not to wince at the volume considering the silence of the rest of the room. The other High Lords knew of your powers, but Rhysand had requested they keep it to themselves, even from their own Court officials. Whether or not Rhysand had used his Daemati abilities to ensure this, you didnât want to know.
âIâm more than able to assist in a plan of action,â you continue firmly, voice hardening. âIâm not sure if you remember a certain War we just had, but you may wish to remind yourself who was at the front lines of that.â
A few laughs break the tense silence and some people start muttering, slowly raising the volume of the room. You almost donât hear Vaelithâs next words. âYou havenât really answered my question.â
âLetâs use our senses, Vaelith,â a voice rings out from further down the table and youâre startled to realise that Eris is speaking up. The room finally quietens down and you sit up impossibly straight, surprised that Eris is about to defend you.
You couldnât be more wrong.
He only spares you a fleeting glance, but even from your seat you could see itâs full of amusement and mocking. The thing that surprises you is that the mocking is directed at you. âLook at her. Are you really questioning the abilities of a female who barely has the strength to sit up in her seat, let alone fight?â
Your stomach drops, a ball of humiliation unfurling in your chest as he continues to speak.
âIâd like to believe Rhysand has more sense than to send someone on the frontlines who would just be doing the rebels a favour,â Eris drawls, raising an eyebrow at Rhys, still avoiding your gaze.
Rhysand nods. âI can assure you Iâll only be sending my strongest soldiers, Vaelith,â he smirks, faintly, as though the implication heâd do anything to suggest otherwise is laughable. âNow may we discuss matters of actual importance? Tarquin, what have your soldiers been preparing?â
The tension dissolves almost immediately, but youâre still shellshocked, shaking with anger rather than weakness now. Itâs as though youâve been pumped with a burst of adrenaline and it doesnât seem to be dampening.
After the conversation has shifted to a completely different subject, you shift from your seat as discretly as possible and mutter to Nesta that you need some air before standing up.
You look at the High Lord of Autumn before you walk away, but it only infuriates you more. Eris doesnât look anywhere near you, but his jaw is clenched all the same, as though he can feel you glaring at him.
Mor catches your arm as youâre walking out and hisses in your ear. âYouâre still not well,â she turns her body fully towards you. âWait for me to come with you.â
âDonât worry,â you say, shaking your head and clenching your fists to keep them from trembling as you speak through gritted teeth. âI feel suddenly energised. Iâll only be outside.â
Mor gives you a once over and is clearly satisfied with the fact that youâre unlikely to collapse again as she nods and releases your arm, allowing you to rush through the crowd of people and push through the guards.
You walk briskly away from the doors of the meeting room and further down the empty hallway until youâre satisfied that no one will hear your heavy breathing.
You lean against a pillar, exhaling in and out to control your anger and keep the tears at bay. Gods, you feel so stupid. Of course, Eris is incapable of being a decent male to anyone, let alone to you. Damn him and his cruel smirk and damn Rhysand too for allowing it to happen.
Brushing away the tears that have managed to fall, you curse yourself for not just pushing him away and allowing yourself to collapse on the hard marble flooring. It was giving you whiplash the way he could be so full of concern one second and practically call you useless in front of a room full of officials the next.
The longer you stand against the marble pillar, the weaker you begin to feel and that burst of adrenaline you previously felt is no longer present. The anger that fuelled you mere seconds ago is now winding you and a rising sense of panic begins to consume you.
You decide to turn around to walk back so youâre closer to the doors of the meeting room in case you embarrassingly do collapse.
However, the second you take a step, a flash of movement in the corner of your eye is all the warning you get before strong arms clamp around you from behind and a cloth is pressed against your mouth and nose, preventing you from breathing. You canât even scream as the scent of something strong and chemical floods your senses, making your vision blur.
You thrash around in an attempt to use the little strength you have left to escape, but the arms only grip you harder and the world begins to spin. The last thing you feel is the cool marble floor as your knees give out and no one bothers to catch you as you hit the ground, darkness swallowing you whole.
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#eris vanserra imagines#eris vanserra x y/n#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra x you#eris vanserra fanfiction#eris vanserra#eris x you#eris x reader#eris fanfic#eris acotar#eris x oc
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This post wasn't supposed to be about Regulus "don't fucking touch me" Black and James "unless it's me :3" Potter. This wasn't a Jegulus post at ALL, idk how I forgot the main point.
Regulus Black and Physical Intimacy pt.2
The Slytherins and James were hanging out in the common room.
Barty and Pandora were slightly at a distance, conducting and inventing dangerous magic spells together. Evan was closer but he was mostly on babysitting duty, making sure they don't go too far.
Dorcas was curled on an armchair adjacent to the couch, re-doing her essay as one does. Normally she'd join them but she considers this area of magic 'beneath her'.
After what has been hours of Regulus upstairs with his brother (5 minutes), James perks up on the couch when he sees the pair of brothers come down the stairs.
They were talking to each other, well, bickering was more accurate but they seemed relaxed, as normal siblings should be. James' heart melted, he wants to see more of that.
"What are you guys talking about?"
"Tiramisu."
Regulus says as if that explained anything.
Pandora perked up.
"Tiramisu? You brought food?"
That brings both Barty and Evan's attention onto them.
Sirius shoots them an apologetic look.
"Sorry, no food here."
The trio visibly deflates.
James clears his throat, bringing attention back to the original topic.
"What about Tiramisu?"
Sirius smirks while Regulus grumbles, crossing his arms.
"Not Tiramisu exactly, but he was banned from using forks with Tiramisu, you know?"
Intrigued, Dorcas puts down her scroll, sensing she was going to hear something Regulus wouldn't want anyone knowing. Always trying to find something incriminating.
"No, I did not know that, he was banned?"
"Well, not anymore but when he was like, so much shorter than this--" That gets him a kick on the leg but he marches on. "--we'd have Tiramisu for dessert every meal, his favorite."
James and the others can't help but coo, imagining a Regulus that barely reaches the table, looking forward to what was probably his favorite part of the meal.
"...I--Merlin, you guys are terrible."
Sirius sighs once the coos settle down, then continues.
"It was just a regular family dinner? Or there was some event? Celebration? Anyways, the whole family was there."
Regulus goes to sit next to James, close enough for their thighs to touch and James immediately feels like he could explode, like a supernova.
"And obviously that means we're going to have annoying aunts and uncles bothering us. So that night, I think Aunt Druella was the one fussing over Regulus? I can't remember what she was saying though but it got Reggie all red and fuming."
Hearing the name of their aunt, the rosier siblings were fully attentive to Sirius, dropping their experiments. When it became clear his partners were no longer into it, Barty had no choice but to be attentive too.
Regulus crossed his arms, appearing displeased as he recalled the memory.
"She kept insinuating I was a girl. My long eyelashes, my big eyes, my little body, my pretty face."
Sirius cackles.
"Oh that's right, Reggie hated being compared to a girl back then."
"... still does."
Barty mumbles as he recalled a painful memory in fourth year. He learned his lesson then.
"So of course, he retaliated. He stabs her in the thigh. With a fork."
Barty wheezes. Sirius joins in too, laughing. Regulus smirks, smiling fondly at the memory.
"Oh everyone's reactions--it was gold! It was the first time dinner became so silent besides well, her screaming!"
The other four were stunned into silence until Evan broke it, followed by Pandora.
"Hold on--you stabbed Aunt Druella?! As a kid??"
"How have we never heard about this??"
Sirius waved them off.
"They made her keep quiet about it, said it was her fault for bothering Reggie when he was oh so troubled for Hogwarts next year."
Barty wasn't surprised at this level of casual violence in their family, Pandora and Evan weren't surprised they made her keep quiet or that the Black brothers were recounting the memory like it was your usual nostalgia.
Dorcas and James however, could only stare in silence. A bit of fear from James.
"So that's why his fork privileges were taken away, but only for Tiramisu."
Sirius then joins Regulus and James on the couch, sitting next to his brother once he was done artistically recounting the tale of Regulus and Forks with Tiramisu.
He raises an arm to wrap around Regulus while their friends watch in horror as the brothers make physical contact.
"Although now that I think about it, he could still use forks to eat anything else and he always had knives."
Regulus allows himself to be pulled into his brother's embrace, neither noticing how the room has fallen into an awed silence.
"They wanted to fuck with her. Announcing they were going to take away my forks for Tiramisu every time? But still giving me forks and knives anyways?"
Regulus snorts and Sirius grins, squeezing his brother into his arm.
"Yeah, that's where you get your mean streak from."
"Accusations."
Regulus blinks innocently.
By then, the brothers realized their friends and even some other Slytherins were looking at them calculatingly.
"Uh, what's up guys?"
Dorcas lifts her gaze from the arm around Regulus's shoulders, to Sirius, then turns to her friends with confirmation if they were on the same page, then back to him.
"Uh."
Very eloquent, Dorcas Meadowes.
The others and her were staring at the arm with poorly hidden envy. They never got to touch Regulus so casually besides a very rare forced hug on birthdays and they were literally his best friends!! Of years!!
James glares at the arm, seething in jealousy. He wasn't faring much better either. James has to wait or ask for permission if he wanted to touch Regulus and he thought that meant he was quite close to him!! He's the boyfriend!!
They all did, because any attempts at touching him would come with a very-mellowed out violent response. But if it were any one else, Regulus would not hold back.
But here was Sirius Black! The man Regulus hated with all his heart only a couple weeks ago! Cuddled up against their Regulus! And him looking right at home there!
And yeah, they get it, Sirius was probably Regulus's entire world growing up in a house full of assholes, so of course Sirius would have exceptions.
But what the fuck!
Barty and James groaned, Evan huffed, Pandora pouted, Dorcas just shot them a look.
Oblivious Sirius just stares at them and chooses his peace.
"Alright, I'll go bother Peter then."
Once Sirius leaves, the eyes turn to Regulus. He blinks innocently.
"You."
James says with as much accusation he could put on his voice.
"Me?"
Regulus says as he slips a hand in James'. Suddenly, James can't remember what he was mad about.
"Nothing, you look lovely."
It was now James' turn to be stared at.
Regulus black and Physical Intimacy
*Pandora struggles to catch up with regulus so she reaches a hand out to grab his shoulder*
*Regulus smoothly dodges her hand like a cat and turns around*: sorry, I was distracted, did you say something?
*Pandora stares at her outstretched hand, slightly offended*
-
*Dorcas offering a drink*: Try it, it's actually surprisingly good.
*Regulus stares at her hand that's fully wrapped around the cup*
*Grabs the bottom of the cup with a down-side up hand-claw, then corrects his grip when it's fully out of her grasp*
Regulus, completely serious: well, it smells good, can't be truly awful.
*she stares at him with partly hidden judgement*
-
Regulus: Crouch, do you remember what professor Binns meant by this phrase?
*Barty uses this chance to get physically closer, attempting to wrap a hand around regulus's shoulder*
*A stinging hex is thrown his way and narrowly misses*
Barty, sighing: well, worth a shot
-
*Evan and Regulus reading together*
*Evan raises a hand to poke at Regulus's cheek*
Regulus, without missing a beat nor lifting his eyes from the book: no
*Evan slowly retracts his hand*
-
James: regulus...
*Regulus hums in answer*
James: can I touch you?
Regulus: you know the rules, in public only I initiate.
James, whining: but you never touch me
*Regulus rolls his eyes and stretches out a hand*
*James stares at it, confused*
Regulus, obviously teasing him: Oh, so head scratches aren't enough I take it?
*James, because he's not an idiot to haggle, immediately settles under the offered hand*
#regulus is first and foremost sirius's baby brother#manipulative regulus#but hes bbg#jegulus#james potter#evan rosier#regulus black#sirius black#barty crouch jr#barty crouch junior#pandora rosier#dorcas meadowes#james is a simp#dead gay wizards#rosier twins#black brothers#regulus and sirius#sirius and regulus#james loves regulus#regulus loves james#everyone loves regulus#jealous james#rosier siblings#babygirl regulus#maurders era#mauraders era#mauraders#black family#the black family#the most ancient and noble house of black
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You doing ok?
hi
#i'm alive. simply being chewed upon by multiple things#work is more stressful than i'd like it to be. for instance i'm hoping that i submitted my time off notification for tomorrow correctly#because otherwise it might read as a no call no show and i would . like to continue having a job#now to be fair. i do have it on the system that i requested it at the beginning of the month and i emailed my supervisor about it last week#so even if i didn't submit it correctly i'm likely in the clear#but nonetheless. i also got a firm talking-to the other day and now i am on â¨thin ice⨠for dicking around too much#because they track ur idle time at my work (computer) and mine was Quite High so my supervisor was like man what the hell is this#but even though she was kind of baffled at me spending so much time dicking around#she couldn't even really be all that mad in the end because i'm still doing good numbers and have made no (zero) mistakes#so she was just like. it's kind of impressive that your numbers look this good when you literally have 50% idle time#so she goes imagine what you could do if you weren't wasting so much time#and yeah i can whip out some Really Good Numbrers when i put the effort in.#so the problem is not my numbers it's just that i'm not spending long enough doing my tasks for the day#but i don't want to drag out those tasks intentionally so i've just been upping my own standards/goals#as much as i hate giving any more of my brain power than is necessary to giant corporations#it's still easy to feel smug after you get Talked To and then immediately turn around and show off#like yeah i coulda been doing this good the whole time. literally pulling up by 20 points. i just didn't want to.#trying to keep everyone's expectations low but accidentally toed the line of um. not working enough to keep my job#...anyway. EAS national weather system issued a . hi#i haven't forgotten about all of you i'm just having trouble tracking all my shit that i got going on ⨠yaaaaaaay#im gonna post things on AO3 soon. i promise. my weakness is that i get sidetracked trying to unwind from work#...i know i said 'soon' last time. but this time for real#asks#not sexy#anonymous
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really really hate how my brothers make fun of me for being mentally ill . not great!!
#THEYVE BEEN DOING IT SINCE I CAN FUCKING REMEMBER#THEY BOTH PURPOSELY DO THINGS TO ANNOY ME AND I GET IN TROUBLE WHEN I DO SOMETHING BACK#NOT TO MENTION HOW MY YOUNGER BROTHER WILL JUST FUCKING. LIE#AND I CANT TELL WHEN HE DOES THAT SO I IGNORE HIM AND#EVERYTHING IS MY FAULT ??#IM SORRY IM LIKE THIS#ITS NOT MY FAULT STOP FUCKING MAKING FUN OF ME#AAAHH#I HATE THEM SO MUCH#I WOULD NOT CARE IF THEY BOTH DIED. LIKE ACTUALLY IT WOULD BE SO MUCH BETTER FOR ME#THEY DO SO MUCH THERES SO MUCH MORE THAN THIS#I FUCKING HATE THEM#ITS !! NOT!! MY FAULT IM LIKE THIS !!!!#FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE!!#IM SORRY !!!!!!#rambling#kinda vent#actually im just screaming at this point
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god help me i'm going insane about dickson xenoblade again
#this is what i get for thinking about lord of the rings too hard this week (specifically denethor / grĂma / saruman and the like)#thinking about the way anthony may delivered âwhen will you learn you HAVE no future?â#he thinks shulk is fully DEAD at that point. he thinks HE killed him. which he very much meant to. but now that the kid is no longer there#now that the terrible future he's been preparing for and actively working to bring about has in fact come about#i don't know that dickson really cared anymore. he played his part he did the deed expected and he did it unquestioningly. So What Now?#well. now nothing. now the world that he spent so long biding his time in; so long getting enmeshed in (even for nefarious purposes)#is about to end; is about to be gone forever.#sure zanza will probably just create another world and maybe he (dickson) will have Even More Power in the new one#(though that's not a given! he doesn't know for SURE his lord and god will keep his promise!)#but like. what the hell does he care at this point#dickson SAYS he wants power but i suspect that long long ago what the giant dickson really wanted was SURVIVAL.#we never get to know just how he became a disciple or what the giant civilization looked like in its heyday or how it ended#but in MY headcanon dickson saw that some kind of destruction coming and he wanted Out#and maybe he hated his peers and figured any power and prestige that came from this bargain was just a bonus#i think he thought of himself as a saruman type: powerful; remote; far above the petty troubles of mortals (even the long-lived high entia)#but i have always headcanoned that by his later days (i.e. when he started engaging w/colony 9; machina village; etc. in earnest)#he committed too hard to the bit and started âgoing nativeâ as it were; started to give a shit in ways that he would never dare admit#maybe not as much of a shit as; you know; a regular guy would. but more than an immortal disciple and horseman of the apocalypse should.#and all the time knowing that all the world he'd seen would soon be gone#maybe everyone else can get fucked. but shulk had to die too. and that's what their god MADE them to do.#he can't allow himself to care or to hope for another option bc in his mind it's already over; decided; that's it#what else can you do in the face of ultimate power but bow to it and take whatever scraps may fall to an obedient servant?#âyou have no futureâ nor does he except that shulk came back. except that the peoples of bionis/mechonis just wouldn't accept Fate.#and in some final rebellious corner of his mind he starts putting eggs in shulk's basket. âif they can't even defeat telethia they won't#stand a chance against me (or zanza)â so let's see if they CAN. oh they did? how about a dragon? oh fuck they defeated the dragon too?#well fuck. maybe there WAS another option all along. but will/can they stand against me; the final disciple? oh they can??#guess i'll die then bc i'm not looking THAT in the face. i am NOT unpacking my cowardice/failure/lack of vision after all these years.#good luck with that tho <3 you're welcome for the training btw. where i'm going i don't have to see your trauma assuming you live that long.#dickson#xenoblade
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the strangest thing of 2022 is that in the final weeks of it i have started to partake in the slow realization that i am actually someone loved, someone who matters to those who matter to me, and i am allowed to smile and accept that love without insisting i am not someone worthy of having it.
#i don't think i'm at a point where i don't feel the need to say 'i'm afraid you won't like me when you are near me' yet#but there's this sense of comforting weight that's never been there before#like my purpose here is not just to love but to be loved too#and it sounds so simple but it feels so. much. it just feels like a lot to me.#when i thought about dying before i always concluded that my death would just cause more trouble than i was worth for others#and i hate causing trouble so i would be safe or whatever to avoid it#now i think about dying and realize that it would make my little family sad#and that they get sick with worry over the thought of me doing something and getting hurt#and i think about them and their worry and their love when i go to leave the house in a t-shirt and thin hoodie#and i stop to go put on my coat#even though i hate coats#because someone loves me enough to want me to be warm and wear my coat so i don't get sick#and that's enough
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At least I could disable the suggestions but just... I'm sick of it, I'm sick of companies trying to think for me
I'd rather be miserable but doing shit my own way than placid and glass eyed and just taking whatever companies tell me to
Like... literally just asking what I get out of writing a post on tumblr... zero suggestions, just letting me say whatever dumb stuff comes to my head
#the problem is that doing things my way is actually working well; it's just really slow and it's coming from a bad starting point#everything that makes me miserable was even more miserable growing up#you maybe see me and think that I'm doing really horribly; and that may be true; but I'm also truthfully at my peak right now#and frankly as much as I worry about it A LOT; I'm kinda still on the rise in a lot of ways#...I just take way too long to do things; I want to be quicker because a lot of this stuff isn't... it's not being slow and steady#it's being depressed and having trouble working on shit#but... when I do stuff my way the end result tends to be strong#I got a house in 2019 for instance... like in that economy; I feel like that counts as a pretty high roll outcome; you know?#the parts of my life I hate are all... it's like Marley in the Christmas Carol; I've got all these chains around me#and... about 80% of those chains are just my mom or my mom's choices... she blows through so much money all the time#it makes me want to die#but all that shit... it's the past haunting me and drowning me#but shit's better than it was and... I have more friends now that I did in the past; I'm closer to making money than I've been in the past#(part of it is that I kinda want to get shit stabilized in the household; be doing stuff like cooking before I try and sell shit)#(also understand that everyone in high school liked me... we just never saw each other outside of school)#(so it was a situation where I had 'friends'; by that standard everyone at school was a friend)#(but I didn't have a single person I was close with and I was totally isolated in a crowd)#(friend is just a word in english that has to cover a really really wide range of relationships)#(but these days I do have actual friends... just a shame none of us live in the same town... or even state; you know?)#(I like all the people I went to high school with; they all cared a lot and were very bad at it)#(couldn't figure out that like... just give me some company; that's a good 80% of what I'm lacking)#(...I think part of it was they were all stoners and I wasn't; so they felt like... eh... like something something)#(and when I say all stoners I mean... I think... easily 80% of the school; probably 90% and maybe higher were all stoners)#(it uh... was not an easy thing for the staff; cause they obviously all knew; but... figuring out how to best handle it)#(like hell; I wouldn't want to deal with that)#(also like 95% were smokers... you have to understand that most of these kids were rich kids)#(off the top of my head I can only think of 2 other kids who were poor... just... uh...)#(if I named the city the school was in; you'd probably be like 'oh... makes sense')#(I liked everyone there; everyone liked me... just... they were very bad at just basic stuff like spending time together)#(eh... you don't need to hear more)
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Thereâs something I love love loveeee about Laios and how badly he wants to be cool.
Let me preface with this: in general, I believe the harder you try to be cool, the less cool you actually are. The less you care what people think about you, if youâre âcringeâ or âweirdâ, the more likely people will perceive you as confident and self-assured.
There are countless pieces of media where characters try to fit in with some group, change every part of themself to look/act like what theyâre âsupposedâ to be, and end up miserable, often realizing the people theyâre trying to impress arenât worth the trouble.
Iâve experienced this in my own life too! Sometimes when I go out I wear a rainbow propeller cap! Cause I think itâs funny and silly and!! I ALWAYS get compliments!! I donât wear it to be cool, I wear it because it makes me happy. And people overall have a positive reaction to it. itâs a huge contrast to when I was teenager and didnât really put as much of myself into my appearance/wardrobe, and barely left any kind of impression on people.
So anyway, letâs get into it.
Laios⌠heâs been hurt so badly by people. He resented humanity for it. And yet, he still yearns for the approval of others. He wants FRIENDS!!!! and was angry and frustrated to learn his perception of his relationship with Shuro was so drastically different than Shuroâs!!!!
He KNEW that people were put-off by his love of monsters. Up until Falin got eaten, he deliberately suppressed how much he talked about it with others. He probably thought by not talking about monsters so much, it was working!! He was doing all the Right Things now! So Shuro confessing he always hated him was a huge blow.
But the reality is, he loves monsters. And most importantly, he loves cool monsters. He fantasizes about what would make the Ultimate Monster.
He feels very strongly about what he considers âcoolâ as well. He finds all aspects of monsters fascinating, but can still be HORRIBLY underwhelmed when they look too lame for his tastes.
He knows most people donât feel the same way he does. He knows his âcoolâ is everyone elseâs âweirdâ. Itâs so tragically sweet how he latches onto Kabru the moment he shows interest in monsters, and takes every opportunity to infodump about them to him.
He wants people to find monsters as cool as he does!! But, he also wants people to think heâs as cool as he finds monsters.
Like!!! djkfghadkfjg IT DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER HIM WHEN PEOPLE HAVE A WRONG IMPRESSION OF HIM! He's FLATTERED by it. It's almost like, at this point, it doesn't matter to him if people don't like him. People can not like him and still think he's cool.
And my favorite thing is, it works. Laios IS cool as fuck. You KNOW he thought he looked so badass when he did this and he was RIGHT:
And yet, this is him trying very hard to look cool. But it's Laios's version of cool. It's almost contradictory, in that sense. Cause he knows people still don't get it. Like. He wants to be cool. He doesn't care about the "normal" ways to be cool. He thinks his cringe thing is cool. He does his cringe thing, that people very much do still think is cringe. So you would think that, since he wants people to think he's cool, he would not do the cringe thing. But he wore the pelt because he thought it was cool. And people clapped and cheered for him anyway.
is what he's doing really so different than this? ^
YAYYYYY WOOO GO LAIOS YOURE SO COOL!!!!!!!
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#long post#photos#laios touden#I LIKE HIM A LOT!!!!!! HES SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER!!!!!
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It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as sheâs quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when heâs around. Itâs only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesnât no one else will, and whereâs the fun in that?
He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, âTrouble in paradise, Lt?â the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.
âNo.â
âSeems like it,â he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. âWhatâd ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?â
âDrop it, MacTavish,â Ghost warns darkly. âNothingâs wrong.â
This time, Gaz jumps in. âCâmon, Lt., itâs obvious that somethingâs wrong. I mean, she wonât even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.â
âAnâ sheâs callinâ âim âsir.ââ Soap adds, pointing at him. âChrist, Lt., ya musta done a number on âer. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke âer heart ya did.â
Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. âSoap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.â
âAw, but we already dââ Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.
Itâs only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, âWhat did happen, Simon?â
Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. âPretty much told âer to fuck off.â
Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himselfâheâs never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All heâs gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.
âI just got mad. Sheâs always âround and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of âandlinâ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.â He rubs a hand over his face. âI meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldnât stop. It just kept cominâ out. And now she fuckinâ hates me.â
He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowlâthe man is smiling at him, but itâs that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.
âQuit that.â
âYou care about her,â Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. âAnd instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.â
âI didnât mean to be such a cunt.â
âBut the fact of the matter is that you did, and youâve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.â He looks at him. âYou know a team dividedââ
âCanât stand,â Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. âYeah, yeah, I know.â He looks away. âI just donât know how to even start tryinâ to fix it.â
âWell, apologizing might be a good start,â Price rumbles with a grin. âSheâs a good kid, Simon. Her heartâs in the right place, even if itâs a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. Sheâs a rare one.â
âI know,â he admits in a much, much softer tone. âI just donât want her to lose that doinâ this.â His eyes meet Priceâs, and they hold such a misery. âLook at us, Price,â he mutters, gesturing between them. âMiddle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesnâtâŚâ he clenches his jaw. âShe deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.â
âThatâs not your choice to make, son,â he replies gently, but thereâs a firmness to it. âIf this is what she wants to do, then she will. We canât make her get out of service.â
Ghost growls low in his throat. âShe has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethinâ with her life. Somethinâ good. Somethinâ that wonât have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.â
Price simply watches him.
âBut sheâs so fuckinâ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodginâ bullets and wakinâ up every night in sweat âcause she canât escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We donât want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? Sheâs happy here.â He lowers his voice, itâs as if heâs in disbelief. âSheâs happy here.â He looks at Price. âWhy? Why is she so happy here?â
It's another long moment before Price speaks.
âYou hear, son, but you donât listen.â He moves the cup on the saucer. âShe bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they wonât let her die alone.â
âOh what? So, itâs found family bullshit?â Ghost spits. âIf she dies, at least the team would mourn her?â
âIsnât that what youâve done too?â he replies, and Ghost falls silent. âPeople like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. Weâve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, youâve made a home where youâve had to. Made a family out of people youâve bled for, would gladly bleed for. Youâve made something thatâs yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. Sheâs made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.â
Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.
âThink on what Iâve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.â
As he walks off, he hears, âAnd if she doesnât want it?â
He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. âIâm sure sheâll take it.â His eyes twinkle as he adds, âTakes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.â
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader imagines#simon ghost riley x reader imagine#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader imagines#simon riley x reader imagine#simon riley imagines#simon riley imagine#simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x reader imagines#ghost x reader imagine#ghost imagines#ghost imagine#ghost#cod#cod imagines#cod imagine#captain price#price#john soap mactavish#soap#john mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#kyle garrick
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snapdragons mean i'm sorry
summary: you own a flower shop down the street from Wade and Althea, and now Logan's apartment. You and Logan had grown quite close, until you hear him complaining about you through the door. A week later, he shows up at the shop, groveling wc: 2.0 k a/n: sorry about the delay with this one, things have been a bit crazy! I really enjoyed writing for worst!Logan, I think I'm considering a part two for this as well. This fic is based on this request! warnings: lots of hurt and comfort, reader uses she/her pronouns, confused and groveling Logan, Wade being a meddler, slight spoilers for the end of Deadpool and Wolverine
You were two seconds away from chucking the bouquet that you were working on clear across the room. Instead, you gently set the flowers down on your workbench and tightened your pony tail. Heaving a sigh, you snatched the broom out of itâs place leaning up against the doorway and made you way to the front of store.Â
Usually, being surrounded by all of your flowers and specially curated knickknacks brought you a sense of peace. But so far today youâd broken two vases and stabbed your thumb on rose thorns maybe more than youâd ever done in your entire life.Â
Being friends with a superhero (singular) was much less stressful than youâd thought it would be. Wade would stop in to the shop around once a week to buy flowers for Vanessa, always with a quick joke or two before being on his way. It wasnât until heâd saved you from an attempted mugging a few years back that youâd really become close. And youâd been there for a lot. Through his break up with Vanessa, when he was nonstop moaning about how deeply he hated selling lightly used cars, and whenever he needed a second opinion about a new hair system he was perched on a second stool that now had permanent residence behind the counter, right next to yours.Â
Being friends with superheroes (plural) was bringing a new host of issues. Namely, an accelerated heart rate and trouble forming your words in front of Wadeâs new roommate. Wade had warned you that his new acquisition was prickly when heâd stopped over to invite you to the Welcome Home Pizza Party Palooza, according to the hand drawn invitation heâd proudly presented you. Heâd lured you in with promises of meeting his new dog before dropping the bomb that there was an introduction to his roommate included in the package deal. Youâd already agreed, and Wade was too busy rambling about how you were being moved up to from side character status for you to intercede with a made up reason you could no longer attend.Â
You historically didnât do well with meeting new people, and someone who was likely to snap at you at some point throughout the evening, by Wadeâs estimations, was an even bigger hurdle. Even though you had worked yourself up enough to feel slightly sick to your stomach, youâd arrived at the party, armed with flowers for the new roommate and a mini bouquet of dog treats for Mary Puppins. Wade and Alâs apartment was full of familiar faces when youâd arrived. You were caught up in a conversation with Peter and Yukio for a few minutes before theyâd asked about the flowers all but forgotten in your hands. You admitted they were a welcome home present, and Peter kindly pointed out where Logan was standing across the room. Youâd thanked him, and made your way across the room.Â
When you reached him in the kitchen, you stood quietly behind him, working up the courage to make your presence known. Ultimately, it was unnecessary, because he quickly turned around and greeted you with a crinkly-eyed smile that made your heart flutter against your better judgement. Youâd shyly handed over the flowers, stuttering through the explanation of owning the shop down the street and apologizing preemptively if he didnât like them, expecting a strong rebuttal. He certainly looked like the type of man to rebuff the offer of flowers in fear of appearing unmanly or some other nonsense. Instead, he took the flowers from you gently, thanking you. He turned away, searching through the cabinets before pulling out a novelty beer stein decorated with My Little Pony characters with a huff. Logan made quick work of depositing the bouquet in the beer stein, but he frowned at his work, clearly unhappy with the vase options. âSo youâre the florist that heâs obsessed with.âÂ
You smiled to yourself, glad to hear that Wade wasnât only kind to your face. âAre you kidding me?â Speak of the devil. Wade slung an arm around your shoulders, depositing your typical drink of choice in your hand. âMore like worship the ground you walk on. I may be Marvel Jesus but Iâm your disciple. The things she can do with a chrysanthemum.â He moaned in a way you had never heard someone while talking about a flower, of all things.
Logan shook his head, but before either of you could respond, Wade noticed Vanessa coming through the door and was at her side in an instant. Youâd stood with him in the kitchen for a few moments, silent but comfortable. It wasnât long before Althea had called everyone to the table, where you took your usual seat next to Althea and Vanessa. The evening had been comfortable and you couldnât help but notice how naturally Logan and his daughter Laura fit into your strange little family.Â
The next day, youâd stopped by their apartment armed with another bouquet, this one beautifully arranged in one of your favorite vases you kept in stock. You couldnât shake the image of how disappointed Logan had looked with his options the previous night. Al had ushered you inside quickly, letting you know that the rest of the roommates had left her in the name of picking up some necessities for Logan. Youâd dropped the vase on the kitchen counter, ruffled Mary Puppinsâ hair and saw yourself out.Â
Logan had come by to thank you at the store, startling you where you were working in the back. Youâd fumbled one of your vases, sending it crashing to the ground. Logan was quick to usher you onto a stool, locating a broom and making quick work of the glass. Youâd insisted you could take care of it, but heâd shot your down insisting that he would heal right up if he managed to cut himself and he didnât feel like a trip to the ER. It should have stung, but there was a lightness to his voice and a twinkle in his eyes that instead had you fighting down the hear rising to your cheeks.Â
After a few weeks, it was routine for you to stop by a couple nights a week after work, armed with a fresh set of flowers for the vase and some take out. Logan very well could have taken some home with him, as often as he was stopping by, but somehow youâd always get to talking and forget to bundle some up for him. He was immensely helpful around the shop, able to reach things on high shelves and move heavy pallets you would get in much more easily than you were able to. Wadeâs stool had quickly become Loganâs but you didnât much mind.Â
Your hand had settled on the doorknob to their apartment, when two familiar voices faded in through the closed door. It was instinct to pause, you handât really meant to snoop. But the words hurt all the same. âI really am fond of her, but she could really stand to let up on how often sheâs hanging around me.â Your heart started to hammer, frozen in the hallway.Â
âI hear you peanut,â Wade was quick to respond. âCling-ville USA, population her, amiright?âÂ
âFuck off, youâve been obsessed with her as long as Iâve known you.â Your heart sunk. Isnât that what Logan had said, the first night you met? Wade was obsessed with you? As quietly as you could, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and backed away down the hall, hoping that their conversation was loud enough to drown out the sound of your retreating footsteps. Youâd retreated down the hallway, quickly shooting Wade a text that you werenât feeling well and wouldnât be able to make it.Â
You hadnât seen them since. You knew it shouldnât have mattered, but it stung. Youâd moved their stool into the far back corner of the shop because as silly as it sounded, it made you sad to look at him. Thankfully, there had been a steady stream of customers to keep you busy for a while. But now, you were dead and your thoughts were drifting when the bell on the front door rang. You sent a silent thank you to the universe and rushed out to the front of the store. But the customer waiting for you was the only one you were reluctant to see.Â
You hated to admit it, but the image of Logan standing in the middle of your showroom, shoulders slumped and one of the most regretful looks youâd ever seen on anyone was almost enough for you to forgive him on sight. Close but no cigar, one could say. Â
âHey, sweetheartâ he said sheepishly, hands shoved into this pockets.Â
If this is how he was going to play it, so be it. âHey, Lo. Whereâve you been?â
âLaura needed some help at the mansion, and they roped us into a mission. Meant to call but,â he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. âGot a bit busy.â You nodded, doing your best to remember that you were mad at him. Stopped by for some flowers, if you have a minute.â
You nodded curtly, shocked that he wasnât bringing up the obvious tension. He wasnât one to beat around the bush. âWhat kind are you looking for?âÂ
âEh, whatever you think says âSorry, I fucked upâ the bestâ he shrugged, making his way behind the counter.Â
âWho else did you piss off?â You asked, arranging a few more pieces of greenery into the bouquet he had requested. Even if you were frustrated and moody, you couldnât bring yourself to make something you werenât proud of.Â
âWhereâs my seat sweetheart?â He asked, before taking a pause. âWhat do you mean who else?â He asked, cocking his head to the side.Â
âWhat do you mean âwhereâs my seatâ?â You mocked, doing a poor imitation of his gruff voice.Â
âOkay, youâve gotta catch me up here, sweetheart because I clearly missed something.âÂ
âWouldnât wanna cling on too hard, are you sure you want me to do that?â You snarked, dropping the bouquet on the table and storming over to him, poking your finger into his chest. âI heard the both of you complaining about me last week.âÂ
Loganâs hand wrapped around yours, drawing it closer to his chest. âI was coming in here to apologize for being gone for a week. But Iâm happy to double the order to make up for the confusion. If my math is right, bub, you overheard me complaining about that fucking dog insisting on sleeping on my bed. Even after I told Wade to keep her out of my room.âÂ
âYou love her.âÂ
âYeah, you know me too well sweetheart.âÂ
You smiled up at him, soaking in the warmth of having him this close, when something clicks in your head. âAre you telling me that you waltzed in here and asked me to make my own apology flowers?â If you hadnât already decided he was off the hook, the way his mouth turned down into a little pout would have sealed the deal.Â
He hesitates for a few moments, eyes glancing around the shop seemingly in search of an answer. âDidnât want to give the business to someone else.â He shrugged, bashfully. Â
Against your better judgement, a few giggles slipped past your lips, which had been firmly pressed together. A few more, and then you were laughing so hard you were having trouble breathing. You leaned your head against his chest, taking measured deep breaths to curve the laughter âI canât believe this,â you gasped, wiping a few tears away that had spilled onto your cheeks. You grinned up at him through the tears, taking in the way his eyes warmed when he smiled.Â
âCould have been worse,â he shrugged, mischief making his eyes sparkle. âCould have gone with Wadeâs suggestion.â
âI have to know.âÂ
He slipped both his arms around you, pulling you in close. âWanted me to jump out of a cake.âÂ
You snuggled in close, leaning your head on his chest. âI would like to see it.âÂ
âThen weâll have to see what we can do about that.âÂ
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverine#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#worst!wolverine#marvel x reader#marvel fic#Logan howlett imagine#Logan howlett fic#wolverine imagine#wolverine fic#Hugh jackman x reader#x men x reader#x men fanfic#x men fic#marvel imagine#my writing#x men#x men comics#x men movies#hugh jackman
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Intention: Write a sweet Raph and Mikey bonding fic about how Raph is bummed that Casey has been spending more time with Donnie. Result: Every cell in my body trying desperately to keep this from becoming a vent fic about how dirty the 2012 show did Raph's relationships with Casey and Slash.
#i'm just struggling on what was supposed to be a fun quick one shot guys don't mind me#this was definitely not my intent#i don't much care for vent fics#i'm generally of the mind that if you're taking the trouble to write a story just fix the problem in your story#that's what fanfiction is all about#anyone can vent but only writers can do something about it#but rather than just kind of being bittersweet this has turned into a full on angst fic and i don't know what to do#i have taken out more tangential scenes than i have scenes that have actually made it into the final version so far#i have cut entire chunks of dialogue because i was able to recognize that no the characters would not say those things#that is just me projecting onto the situation from my position outside the show#writing within canon is hard when you're writing about a point in canon you kinda hate#but this wasn't meant to be a fix it story#a fix it would take way long and be far bigger#i just wanted to write a cute one shot guys what's wrong with me send help#anyway just needed to vent for a sec about trying not to vent in my story XD#delete later
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you fall first, but he falls harder
a/n: i can only write fluff, so please trust me that it's fluff. there's like, one usage of 'she', timeskip spoilers, and a bit of language. it's my longest fic yet (which isn't saying much), no beta we die like daichi
you don't know that tsukishima kei knows about your crush on him. it's so damn obvious, how you turn red so easily when he's around. unfortunately for you, though, he doesn't reciprocate, nor does he bother confronting you about it. you are his closest friend other than yamaguchi, and as much as he hates to admit it, he doesn't want to lose you as one. it's so tedious, anyways.
---
"it's our last year in karasuno, do you have anything planned?" you ask as you lay on the floor of tsukishima's room. you're supposed to be studying, since it was what you came over to do with kei and tadashi, but you gave up somewhere halfway in geography.
"it is my last year, but who knows about you? you've been slacking so much, you'd probably have to repeat a year. and could you get up?" he sighs and nudges your side with his foot.
"asshole," you mutter, cheeks growing red. if you know that he just dodged your question, you don't do anything about it. "just you wait, i'll enroll into kyoto university and make you eat your words, beanpole."
"sure." his reply drips with sarcasm, but he doesn't doubt that you can make it far. there's a knock at the door.
"sorry for being late!"
"tadashi!!"
---
kei knows you can read him like an open book. you can tell he's having a bad day just by a conversation with him through text. he also knows that when he says that he doesn't want to talk, you immediately ring his phone.
the first time it happened, he had tried to decline your calls, or just ignore them entirely, but you're insistent. eventually he picked up, filled with pure irritation at that point.
"could you--"
"i'm heading over. i promise i won't push for any details. i'll even get strawberry shortcake on the way." you immediately stated. he paused to mull it over.
"fine, but if the cake sucks, i'm kicking you out." it's safe to say that the cake was good enough to make this a habit, so much so that tsukshima doesn't even know why you still call him to let him know you're coming over. the both of you know you will no matter what.
so here you are, sitting on his bedroom floor with him and eating desserts in silence, save for the music playing softly from his computer.
"you're gonna get in trouble with your parents when they realise you snuck out." he remarks. you shrug your shoulders, stuffing the remaining taiyaki in your mouth.
"i know."
"don't talk with your mouth full." you roll your eyes with a furious blush. somehow, you being here with him becomes sweeter than the strawberry shortcake.
---
you were there when tsukishima made the decision to go professional with volleyball.
his last match as karasuno's middle blocker had ended. his body was sore all over, but somehow the freak duo managed to convince him and yamaguchi to play one more match back at school, just the four of them with yachi. but even with landing third in nationals and a final intimate match with his teammates, he still somehow felt so unsatisfied.
the walk home with you was silent. he was grateful you didn't say anything. he couldn't handle any more questions about how he was feeling when he himself was unsure. it was when you two stepped outside the convenience store after getting ice cream did he come to the conclusion that he never wants to have a last match.
"i'm not going to give up on volleyball after graduation." he announced out of the blue. you were caught off guard for a bit, before grinning at him. "i expected that."
"why?"
"you call hinata and kageyama freaks for being so insane about volleyball, but you don't even realise that you're just as equally crazy about it as them." you said it so nonchalantly as you eat your ice cream, like you're stating a fact. now it was his turn to be taken off guard. he took a while to let it settle in before chuckling softly.
he should have known that you know him better than he does himself.
---
it's graduation day. tsukishima and kageyama are stuck with their four teary-eyed friends by their side. kei awkwardly pats your head, not knowing how to comfort you. you laugh at his feeble attempt, your rosy cheeks burning red. have you always been this cute? in the midst of all the bittersweet interactions, you get distracted by something on your phone, and let out a gasp.
"what is it, (name)?" yamaguchi asks. you're trembling slightly, and tsukishima grows worried.
"i, uh, got into kyoto university," you say in disbelief. "i actually got in!" everyone congratulates you, but you only care about one thing.
"tsukki, remember that day i told you i'd make you eat your words?" he hums in acknowledgement. you shove the acceptance email in his face, but he can only focus on how proud you look with that shit-eating smirk. "what do you have to say now, beanpole?"
he smiles. that's my best friend right there.
"nothing."
---
you were gone before the new year, and kei was handling your absence well until semester started. he had believed it'd be fine, you were only across the country, not across the world. plus, you promised you would call as often as you could.
but he doesn't sees you in his classes anymore, and you don't come over when he's having a bad day. he got himself strawberry shortcake to lighten his mood like it usually does, but he only feels hollow. it doesn't help that since he's going pro, his volleyball training is almost everyday now, and with your commitments, he rarely gets to call you anymore. it hurts like hell inside.
"hey tsukki, you've been off recently. is everything ok?" tadashi calls him one day.
"i'm fine, yamaguchi." kei lies. tadashi isn't convinced.
"does it have something to do with (name) being in kyoto?"
"why would you say that?" he answered too quickly for his liking.
"well, you bring (name) up quite a bit, and when you realise she isn't there, you get all quiet and snappy." tsukishima is about to retort back, but then it hits him.
oh shit, he's in love.
---
the day you finally return back to miyagi to visit, tsukishima waits at the station with yamaguchi. kei's eyes are constantly searching the crowd and flickering to his watch every so often.
"tsukki, relax, she'll be here soon." he ignores tadashi's reassurance.
tsukishima kei is a composed man, always able to think before he acts. but when he catches sight of you, he runs. before you can register anything, he hugs you, gripping onto you like a lifeline, like he will die if he lets go of you.
"tsukki--"
"gosh, i missed you so much, you idiot." he knows you could have easily lost feelings for him when you were away.
"wha--"
"i've suffered so much because of your stupid, dumb ass." he doesn't care.
"wait--"
"i like you, so go out with me before you have to head back to kyoto." you're back, and he's scared to lose you again. every second you stay quiet, the louder his heart beats in his ears.
"really?" you finally say, your voice barely over a whisper.
"yea." another pause.
"guess i'm yours then, beanpole."
bonus:
"you know, i knew about your crush back in high school."
"what the heck?"
"you didn't necessarily hide it well."
"then i'll have you know that yamaguchi told me everything that had happened when i've been gone."
"...fuck."
#i know i just posted#like yesterday#but there was this song that had me on a chokehold#i sacrificed my studying and sleeping hours for this#i don't think this is written exceptionally well#but the idea and emotion is still there#i hope#tsukishima kei x reader#haikyuu x reader#tsukishima x reader#haikyuu tsukishima#tsukishima kei#tsukishima kei fluff#karasuno x reader
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The Shuro hate because of the latest episode is pouring in and I cannot even begin to tell you how upsetting it is to see someone who is so much like me be berated by people for being so called "ableist" and "misogynistic" and simply "the worst". He is a product of his environment (a different country, which means a different culture), and sure his love for Falin may be one-sided, but it is still love, and it's love enough he's risking hunger and sleeplessness and self care to find her. Even Chilchuck pointed out that him proposing spontaneously is just something people in his country do. He is not shallow with his love. The same can be seen with his frustration with Laios. It's borned out of miscommunication and cultural differences, and it is clear, very clear, at the end of the episode that he cares deeply for both Laios and Falin. He's envious of Laios's personable and straightforward nature, and he admitted to it. He gave Laios a way out (via the magic bell) and promised to give him his aid when Laios is in trouble. He is a complex and well-written character, and he deserves more than just people shallowly trashing on him.
Also Shuro is also autistic to me but in a different way Laios is âď¸ Come on: hyperfocusing at the cost of your health? Relying on social cues to predict how people think? Too awkward to correct Laios from the fact that he's been saying his name wrong the entire time (his real name is Toshiro)?
Edit: Honestly? Genuinely? I also think a lot of the hate that Shuro receives also borderlines antagonistic because he's "getting in the way of Farcille" (he has not shown any creepy attitude towards Falin) and racist. Genuinely I think a lot of American/Western fans are super racist towards Shuro. He's angry at Laios's mistakes the same way Chilchuck and Namari do (overstepping boundaries, being ignorant of cues, etc) but nobody thinks twice about giving Chilchuck and Namari the pass. How come this repressed man from the equivalent of fucking Feudal Japan gets the boot? Is it because he fought Laios out of fear and the trauma of seeing his team die and his love interest be made into a monster thanks to dark magic? Does his apology and offer to help not count? You people are hypocrites.
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No Words *ŕłŕź
Summary: max defends his girlfriend and gets into trouble
đ¤ mv x reader â・°âŠ
đ¤ fluff + slight humour (iykyk) â・°âŠ
masterlist âžâź
y/n had been a fan of formula one since she was a child. every parental figure in her life had been a fan of the sport, so it was natural and she got into it too. thankfully, it also made her realise very quickly in life that she wanted to work in the field of motorsports. she wasn't sure yet, and she was still working her way to getting into the sport, but it was a sure, clear path for her.
after meeting max, and falling in love with him, everything had changed. her family approved of the two of them, obviously, and so had his, though she hadn't cared much about jos' opinion. y/n made it clear in the beginning that she wanted to work in motorsports and she wanted to earn her place. she refused to let max talk her up or anything, because he was the kind of guy who would do just that for his girlfriend. max agreed, and promised to keep their relationship private for as long as she wanted.
it had taken her a few years. she bounced from indycar to motorgp to nascar and eventually made her way to f1 as a journalist. she had gained far more experience than she would've gotten if she had only focused on formula one, and she was confident in her abilities to finally be formula one.
max and her had stayed strong throughout, even if they kept their relationship private. she had met and become friends with daniel, lando, carlos, and all of max's friends. they often played padel together as well. mix the competitive spirits that max and she possessed, it was always fun.
after a year of being in formula one as a journalist, max and y/n had decided that it was time to stop hiding. they skipped the soft launch part, and jumped directly into the hard launch phase that left a lot of fans shook.
unfortunately, it also got her a lot of hate. y/n went from being one of the best journalists in f1 to one of the most hated ones for the same reasons that she was loved. the fans adored her because she was a woman of colour making a name for herself in such a sport, and that her parents had sacrificed a lot for her and she was making them proud. now, she was hated because her success became max's story and how he put in good words for her and how she was only with him for the money.
it broke her heart, but max was someone who had received a lot of hate before in his life, so he taught her all the ways to ignore the comments and focus on what she did best. it helped a great deal, but it also made her determined to prove that her career had nothing to do with max.
it was getting better, slowly and over time. max and y/n promised to never lose their temper on the comments. a lot of interviewers and fans had also asked the other drivers on the grid to comment on their relationship, asking if it was ethical for a journalist and a driver to date. but the other drivers always responded with the same thing, always saying how they've known max and y/n for a long time, and their relationship was no one else's business.
unfortunately, after a particularly hard race, max finally lost his cool.
"well, max, it's safe to say that this particular race of yours wasn't the best that you've performed. what do you have to say about that?"
"uh, nothing, really. we just didn't have the pace, and with some mistakes on my side, i lost a lot of points. but, i'm sure we can cover it up next race." max replied.
"you don't have to worry about us writing a bad article about you. your girlfriend and we will only be writing praises, don't you worry. the only difference would be that we won't take your hard earned money like she does," the interviewer laughed, nudging y/n.
the cameras were all focused on them, there were fans nearby, and other drivers. everyone was watching. it was live tv. the entire world was watching. the thick crowd of an audience had their gaze fixed on y/n, and all she could do in that moment was hang her head and try not to cry.
that's the moment max lost his cool. y/n was standing right there, and the interviewer had disrespected her on a very public platform.
"actually, my girlfriend will always tell me what i need to hear, whether it's good or bad. y/n y/l/n, a well known journalist, who is also standing right there with you, will write exactly what happened on track, because that's the part that she reports on. she made her own career, so fuck you for dismissing all of it." max bursted, before he stormed off.
the interviewer was spluttering, not sure how to react, but completely outraged as he forced the fia to take actions on max's outburst. y/n slipped away silently, needing to go back to max.
later on, the fia decided to punish max for using "language during the fia sunday press conference". their decision: obligation to accomplish some work of public interest.
later, an interviewer asked him if he regretted his decision of defending his girlfriend and getting a punishment, max responded, âno.â
âso, what do you think of the punishment given to you? do you think itâs fair?â
âno words.â
.â・ââË・â・Ëâ˝Ë・â.
i hope you guys enjoyed this! i had a lot of fun writing this, mostly because i had no idea what my brain wanted me to write, but somehow i kept on typing. anyways, this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)
#f1#formula 1#formula one#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#mv33 imagine#mv33 fic#mv33#mv33 x reader#mv1 x reader#mv33 fluff#fia
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One criticism of Jane Austen is that she ignored the lower classes. I find this kind of dumb on multiple levels, primarily because not every work of fiction or social criticism needs to include every single social ill, but also because she does talk about servants/the lower classes quite a bit more than people realize and what she says is important.
The overall theme: kindness to servants/the lower classes/the poor is a very important mark of character.
We all know that Elizabeth Bennet changed her mind about Mr. Darcy after hearing a positive character reference from his housekeeper, but that is just one example of many. The Dashwood girls are better employers than John & Fanny since they easily find servants to move across the country with them: Her wisdom too limited the number of their servants to three; two maids and a man, with whom they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their establishment at Norland. Also, servants tended to brag about having wealthy employers, these three servants wanted both a far away and a less prestigious job. John & Fanny were really that bad!
Another mark against General Tilney's character is that he gets irrationally angry at/scares servants:
To such anxious attention was the Generalâs civility carried, that not aware of her extraordinary swiftness in entering the house, he was quite angry with the servant whose neglect had reduced her to open the door of the apartment herself. âWhat did William mean by it? He should make a point of inquiring into the matter.â And if Catherine had not most warmly asserted his innocence, it seemed likely that William would lose the favour of his master forever, if not his place, by her rapidity.
âWhy! How can you ask the question? Because no time is to be lost in frightening my old housekeeper out of her wits, because I must go and prepare a dinner for you, to be sure.â (Henry, on his father coming to his house for a visit. This may be half a joke, but General Tilney is very critical of the meal)
Mrs. Ferrars's character is made quite plain in this complaint about paying annuities (basically a pension here) to some of her husband's old servants:
I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to old superannuated servants by my fatherâs will, and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every year these annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. Her income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at my motherâs disposal, without any restriction whatever.
Mrs. Ferrars is loaded, and she begrudges paying a few pounds to 3 servants. She is greedy and ungrateful.
Mrs. Norris's treatment of the servants is similar to her treatment of Fanny. It shows the depth of her miserliness (how much could one boy really eat?) and also cruelty:
"I had been looking about me in the poultry-yard, and was just coming out, when who should I see but Dick Jackson making up to the servantsâ hall-door with two bits of deal board in his hand, bringing them to father, you may be sure; mother had chanced to send him of a message to father, and then father had bid him bring up them two bits of board, for he could not no how do without them. I knew what all this meant, for the servantsâ dinner-bell was ringing at the very moment over our heads; and as I hate such encroaching people (the Jacksons are very encroaching, I have always said so: just the sort of people to get all they can), I said to the boy directly (a great lubberly fellow of ten years old, you know, who ought to be ashamed of himself), âIâll take the boards to your father, Dick, so get you home again as fast as you can.â The boy looked very silly, and turned away without offering a word, for I believe I might speak pretty sharp; and I dare say it will cure him of coming marauding about the house for one while. I hate such greedinessâso good as your father is to the family, employing the man all the year round!â
It also highlights her hypocrisy, as Mrs. Norris has moved in during the play to help with the preparations, so she is getting free meals all week but she won't let this kid eat when he's helping his father (who is building the stage for the play)
Mr. Knightley considers the common people of Highbury before moving a path, even though he likely owns all of the land and can do whatever he wants:
"But John, as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham, of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows, I cannot conceive any difficulty. I should not attempt it, if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people, but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path"
The kind Musgroves, who have given their nursemaid a retirement plan instead of turning her out:
A chaise was sent for from Crewkherne, and Charles conveyed back a far more useful person in the old nursery-maid of the family, one who having brought up all the children, and seen the very last, the lingering and long-petted Master Harry, sent to school after his brothers, was now living in her deserted nursery to mend stockings and dress all the blains and bruises she could get near her, and who, consequently, was only too happy in being allowed to go and help nurse dear Miss Louisa.
And who clearly are rewarded for this kindness.
Anne Elliot showing kindness to Mrs. Smith, who has nearly fallen right out of the gentry, vs. her fathers disdain for charity:
âWestgate Buildings!â said he, âand who is Miss Anne Elliot to be visiting in Westgate Buildings? A Mrs Smith. A widow Mrs Smith; and who was her husband? One of five thousand Mr Smiths whose names are to be met with everywhere. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly. Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste! Everything that revolts other people, low company, paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are inviting to you. But surely you may put off this old lady till to-morrow: she is not so near her end, I presume, but that she may hope to see another day. What is her age? Forty?â
Added to Sir Walter and Elizabeth's idea to cut expenses:
âCan we retrench? Does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?â and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy, to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom."
Vs. how the Crofts treat the poor:
She could have said more on the subject; for she had in fact so high an opinion of the Crofts, and considered her father so very fortunate in his tenants, felt the parish to be so sure of a good example, and the poor of the best attention and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for the necessity of the removal, she could not but in conscience feel that they were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch Hall had passed into better hands than its ownersâ.
Henry Crawford's moral fall begins with ignoring the needs of his tenants:
"I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property... I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?â
Of course, Henry does not go to Everginham, as he knows is right, but instead goes to the party in London, where he again runs into Maria...
Yes, Austen didn't write servants/the lower classes as full characters in general, they are in the background and around the edges of the scenes, but over and over, we can sort characters into moral and immoral by their treatment of those less fortunate around them.
#servants#jane austen#mansfield park#emma#northanger abbey#pride & prejudice#sense & sensibility#persuasion#treatment of servants#and the lower classes#there are more examples these are just some#the poor and servants are there#and they tell us a lot
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she chose me
Summary:Â Steve's hopes get crushed when he wrongly assumes you'd choose him over Bucky.
Pairing:Â Bucky Barnes x agent!female reader
Warnings: 18+, no condom (but f is on birth control), teasing, pet names, jealousy, sergeant + sir + daddy kÏnk, vibranium arm kÏnk, language, degrading, praising, no mention of y/n etc.
Word Count:Â 6.9K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N:Â I really hope youâll enjoy it! This was inspired by the "She chose me." TikTok trend.
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
Youâre all quiet, watching the back and forth between Cap and Bucky. Not even Sam intervenes.
âYou didnât-â
âThis is just not gonna work, Buck.â
Bucky rolls his eyes, with an expression you like to describe as bitchy. Heâs so sassy without even intending to, and you wonder how bitchier heâd be if this wasnât his best friend talking.
âLetâs see if people agree.â
He looks around waving at you and the rest of the team while Sam just snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.
But youâre not amused because you have no idea how to handle this diplomatically.
âWhose side are you on?â Steveâs tone is deep and authoritative, making you feel a little uneasy.
You donât know how to talk to Avengers sometimes. You are on friendly terms, even when you train. Sam always cracks jokes, Steve shares stories and gives advice, and Bucky is Bucky. Nat and Sam call him The Machine for a reason. But heâs a really good professor and an even better observer. He pays attention to every recruit and remembers what they need to work on. You find him extra intimidating because heâs also the most beautiful man youâve ever seen. No exaggeration. And itâs not in the usual clean and golden boy way you are used to, anyway. Heâs been through shit and itâs showing in the way he carries himself and doesnât talk much when itâs not needed.
But you pay attention too, and this is why you think you were chosen to lead the recruits for this mission. You are on good terms with the Avengers, and Bucky probably approved the idea of working with you because you didnât piss him off like most do. You know he hates chit chat, you learned how to read most of his stares and to not take it personally when he makes remarks about your fighting skills. Theyâre not your strongest asset, but you have a flair and you come up with the best solutions under pressure. You managed to pin him down once for a few seconds, and that is probably your greatest achievement.
But in moments like this, you donât know how to say things without upsetting one side.
âYou wonât get in trouble, donât worry,â Bucky adds confidently. Youâre not surprised when four out of your six colleagues agree with Bucky. They explain quickly why, emphasizing how much faster and efficient it would be if you followed that route, but their voices are still trembling. And you get it. Telling Captain America to his face you prefer his best friendâs plan over his will always be a risk. But if he gets mad, that says more about him as a leader than about anyone else.
Sam raises his hands in the air defensively, probably enjoying this as a show, but based on the looks he shares with Bucky, it seems like he agrees with him too.
You try to find your words, knowing youâre the last one from your team to speak, but before you can even open your mouth, Steve already smiles, pointing at you with his index finger. âLook at this, though! She agrees with me⌠She chose me.â
His grin is cold and a little arrogant. What you donât notice, though, is the intention Steve had when he decided to use those exact words, but Bucky does. And he clenches his jaw at the same time his vibranium hand curls into a fist; a silent response to the not-so-innocent assumption that Steve made.
After a few seconds, Bucky leans in, his gaze steady and confident. âDid she?â
There is no way you would pick Steveâs plan. You are too smart and you have too much integrity to pick his side just to kiss his ass. He raises an eyebrow at you this time, a confident smirk forming on his lips. âDid you really choose him? You really think his plan would work better, doll?â
You feel surrounded by Bucky⌠attacked even. Your cheeks are getting hotter, too, and you know there is nothing you can do to hide your redness. Doll⌠He called you that when he turned you again on your back the day you managed to pin him down. Itâs something about the way he says it that makes it absolutely deadly. Your first instinct was to be offended, but you reminded yourself he is a man born in 1917. He lived his twenties in the 40s, and doll was used as slang for sweetheart.
Taking a deep breath, you tilt your head slightly, directing your response to Steve. âItâs not about choosing sides, but considering all perspectives for the best outcome. And your plan, Captain, has its strengths, but Iâm inclined to agree with Sergeant Bucky.â You bite your lip. âItâs about finding the most effective strategy for the mission, not a personal preference of any kind.â
Steveâs smile falls off, but your attention shifts back to Buckyâs grin that lightens up his face.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
âWell, then,â Steve sighs. âCan I have a word with you in private?â
You donât realize heâs speaking to you until he says your name.
Surprised, you jump. âYes, of course.â
*
Steve leans back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips as you write down the last details. âYou know, I value your insights on the mission.â
You look surprised because how can he value your opinion when this is your second mission only? Heâs Captain America!
âOh?â
âI trust your judgment, and your training is going great. If you and the team chose Buckyâs plan, then we do it.â You see his jaw clench, though, so you know itâs not easy for him to say it. Even if itâs his friend⌠interesting. âMaybe, when all is over, we could grab a cup of coffee and talk about other things. What do you think?â
Youâre silent for a couple of seconds, trying to realize if he means it in the way you think he is. There is no way, right?
Just in case, you offer him a friendly smile, âThanks, Cap! I value our teamwork too. Coffee sounds great after. It could be a good way for all of us to unwind as a team.â
He nods, sighing. âIâm glad youâre on board. Iâm looking forward to that coffee, even if itâs with the whole team. And please, call me Steve.â
So he was flirtingâŚ
âThank you,â you pause as you stand up. âIâm gonna talk with Sergeant Barnes so we can get things ready for tomorrow. Have a good night, Steve!â
*
You knock only three times before the door opens and a Bucky dressed in shorts and a white tank top lets you in with a smirk.
âSergeant Barnes,â you nod as you take a step inside his bedroom. He only stays here before and after missions when he is too tired to go to his apartment, so you donât expect to see any personal objects there except for a few clothes.
âWhat happened to Bucky?â
You look at him surprised, tightening your hold on the tablet you are holding.
What?
âSir?â
Bucky closes his eyes for a second. âEarlier, during the meeting, you called me Sergeant Bucky.â
Shit!
Maybe you should start calling him Sergeant Barnes in your head as well to avoid these fucks up. You feel so embarrassed that you want to disappear. You donât want him to think you disrespect him in any way. His rank carries a lot of weight and trauma.
You clear your throat, slightly flustered. âMy apologies, Sergeant Barnes. It wonât happen again, sir.â You offer him an apologetic smile while trying very hard to maintain a professional tone.
Buckyâs smirk softens as he places his flesh hand on your shoulder. You feel your legs transforming into jelly.
âMy point was, doll, there is no need to be so formal. Weâre off-duty here, and titles arenât necessary. Just call me Bucky.â
âAlright, Bucky,â you smile. âIâm sorry for bothering you, but I came to discuss the plan for tomorrow. I talked to Steve and we agreed it would be wise for you to lead the way as Mr. Wilson-â
âSteve?â Bucky interrupts before you can finish your sentence. He doesnât even bother to look at your tablet, either.
âYes, we talked in the office.â
âNo, I get that. But you call him Steve? What happened to Cap?â Bucky knows that might sound really childish, but he canât help it. What is Steve trying to do?
Was it some kind of test? Did you misunderstand everything with Steve?
âOh, Cap allowed me to call him Steve earlier. I am sorry if it sounded disrespectful.â
He squeezes your shoulder even before moving his hand to your chin, raising your face, and you feel yourself blushing again.
The blue of his eyes is so intense that you canât see how anyone would be able to survive it.
âYou apologize too much, doll. I donât like it.â
You canât breathe. âSor-â You pause, realizing he is right. Apologizing is second nature to you. It feels wrong when you donât, and you do it without even thinking about it. âI guess I do that a lot. Iâll work on it, Bucky.â
âIâm not your teacher right now, doll.â He smiles, letting go of your chin. âJust remember, weâre not all about formalities here. Relax a bit.â
Easier said than done. But you need to keep it together and ignore the urge to grab his face and finally kiss him. So you focus on talking about the mission and the members of the team. You talk about all of your colleagues, and Bucky helps you take notes. He switched so easily from friendly to the sergeant mode, which is fascinating.
He explains step by step your positions, the way things are gonna happen and even two back up plans. Two!
Youâre not overwhelmed by the amount of information, but youâre quite surprised by how much he talks and how well he answers every possible question any of you could have. You donât think youâve ever heard him speak for more than a few seconds continuously so you try to focus on every word.
Only when he finishes and you close your tablet after sending everyone the plan, do you see him relaxing again.
With a smirk, he asks you, âHow did Steve take it?â
âHe was fine with the plan, even suggested if we feel like doing it, to get one or two more members. But based on what you said, we wonât need it.â
âHe has a point, of course, but if you said you donât think you need it, good.â You try not to stare at his lips as he speaks, but itâs so hard. âAnd I meant how he took that you chose my plan. That you chose me.â
You meet Buckyâs gaze, trying to keep your composure, âSteve seemed more than okay with it from what I saw. He values the teamâs decision. Plus, itâs not about choosing sides, and-â
âAnd not a personal preference of any kind,â he interrupts just to quote you, and you donât know if you should feel flattered he remembers word by word or to prepare yourself for a negative reaction. To be honest, your head is spinning and him being so close makes it worse. âI heard you very well, but Iâm curiousâŚâ
He extends his hand and carefully tucks your hair behind your ears. You swear you can hear your own heartbeat going crazy. And if you do, so does he.
âAbout what?â
âWould the answer be different if it was about personal preferences, doll? Would you choose him?â
You freeze. You are simply in shock because this cannot happen to you. From Steve asking you out earlier to your crush basically doing this. Youâre confused and a little tired, but you didnât imagine all of this. Does Bucky want you? Is that it?
You take a deep breath praying you wonât choke on the words. âIn a hypothetical scenario based on personal preferences, Bucky, I would still not pick him.â
Your voice is trembling, but you maintain eye contact even after admitting it. You didnât choose Buckyâs plan because of your crush, so you shouldnât feel embarrassed or exposed. Heâs the one who let you call him Bucky, who touched you and asked you that. You donât know if he counts romance as a personal preference, but there is an urge inside you to find out. You wonder how heâd taste, if heâd kiss you back if you kissed him first, how your mission would be if you crossed the line. Your thoughts are foggy.
âSo youâd choose me.â
You clear your throat. âYes.â
âOver Captain America.â His grin is so boyish and cute that it makes you smile. He looks younger and less⌠burdened when he gets like this. Bucky chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, âWell, well, well. Looks like I got someone not kissing Captain Americaâs ass for a change. Thatâs really rare. Youâre a naughty one, arenât you?â
You mask your gasp with a cough, deciding to play along, a sly grin forming on your face. âMaybe I just have a thing for underdogs.â
Buckyâs eyes light up with amusement to your annoyance but also excitement, and he leans in, taking the tablet from your hand and placing it on the floor without a care. âUnderdogs, huh? Ouch, that hurt a little. I thought I was your favorite super-soldier.â
You canât help but giggle, feeling enough encouragement from his reaction to touch his vibranium arm just to feel it. You got the chance to do it only for a couple of seconds and it always fascinated you, especially the golden pattern. The fact he can feel everything because itâs connected to his nerves is insane to you. It probably is to him too. âOh, you are. And my favorite teacher too. But a little competition never hurts, Sergeant Barnes.â
You can see he feigns offense. âCompetition, huh?â Buckyâs playfulness turns into a serious tone as he adds, âWell, let me show you why Iâm the only choice.â
And without warning, he closes the distance between you and kisses you.
You gasp, taken aback, but you bring your hands to his face and hip before you deepen the kiss. Heâs not as gentle as you expected, his left arm flying to your ass and bringing your hips closer to his immediately.
You moan when you feel his hard on so close to your pussy, and tug on his hair a little.
âArenât you a naughty girl?â He lowers his lips to your jaw. âI could basically smell how wet you got earlier as soon as I called you doll. And so did Steve.â
You want to open your eyes and tell him to stop talking about his friend. You donât want to be turned off, but he already continues.
âHe thought he stood a chance with my girl.â
âYour girl?â You whimper when his teeth graze your neck before his tongue licks on the spot. He intends to leave a mark, you have no doubt, and you absolutely love it.
âMine.â His whisper makes you shiver. âI want to mark you. The thought of having you covered in hickeys during the mission makes me so hard it almost hurts. Gonna show everyone you belong to me.â
âDo I belong to you, Sergeant Barnes?â You take a step back but let your hand linger on his chest teasingly. âBecause I donât remember you asking me to dinner.â
Bucky grins. âDinner is a classic move, and I adapted very well to the present. But of course I can stop with the kisses right now, and we can have some late dinner.â
You roll your eyes at his unbelievably good answer. Fucker!
âThis is not what I meant, Barnes, and you know it.â
âI donât know it. But I want to know something else.â
You donât even doubt he means something dirty because itâs too obvious.
âLike what?â
âLike how your pretty pussy tastes while you come all over my face.â
You gasp at the no-filter words. Youâre so used to Steveâs warning you to use proper language, that you did not expect it.
âI thought men your age were all about being proper and refined⌠Donât they teach subtlety in the 40s etiquette class or did you skip it?â
You tease him on purpose, and he knows it. You are well aware what a nerd he was in school. Such a nerd that it was displayed in the museum. You snort. You were a nerd too, so you love it.
Bucky chuckles, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he brings his hands to your pants, unzipping them without warning. Holy. Shit. The way you love this. He reads your body language very well and he has his super soldier senses.
âWell, doll, proper and refined went out the window with the 40s, right? Because otherwise youâd not be standing here letting me undress you.â
You raise your eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on your face. His energy is so light, and he looks like a man without a worry in moments like this.
âYouâre the one who offered to show me what the little upgraded version of you can do, after all.â You take off your shoes before pulling down your pants as soon as he drags them to your ankles. You canât believe youâre about to fuck James Bucky Barnes! âWhy would I say no?â
âJust sit back and enjoy the ride, doll. Gonna make sure you have the time of your life.â
You snort, amused by his eagerness, and decide to take off your shirt yourself to see his reaction. And he doesnât disappoint.
He grins like a child, his hands flying straight to your back without taking his eyes off your chest. And before you know it, your bra is on the floor and Bucky cups your breasts, bringing your left tit to his mouth.
If you gasped when you felt the cold touch of the vibranium, now you moan loudly, enjoying the way he licks around your skin. He avoids your nipple on purpose, so you decide to take matters into your own hands quite literally and get a grab of the top of his hair, forcing him to suck on your nipple.
âFuck! I didnât expect you to be so whorish,â you say without realizing, and you feel his snort and breath on the wet patch he left with his tongue.
Buckyâs grin turns into a sly smirk. âThis is what you call whorish? I guess Iâll give you an experience you wonât ever forget.â
âTalk less, do more.â
You want to enjoy more of this. You have a mission in a few hours, and it might be just a one time thing anyway since he is Bucky Barnes. You donât want to get your hopes high.
Bucky lets go of your breast with a pop and moves up, raising your head so he can kiss you.
Itâs electrifying, and desperate, and not enough. You move your hands to the bottom hem of his tank top and lift it, interrupting the kiss so you can take it off completely. You just want to feel him, all of him.
You step back for a second, wanting to look at him properly, but you notice a change in his eyes that he, of course, tries to mask.
âWhy are you nervous? You look like a fucking god! I should be nervous here.â
Buckyâs eyes flicker with vulnerability.
âI guess Iâm not used to someone seeing my scars or my,â he waves toward his vibranium arm, and you frown.
âI will sound totally weird, but they all make you really cool, Serge.â You trace down a few scars when you see he is completely relaxed and continue. âDo I have to lick them all to make you believe me?â
You move your hands under his shorts before he can answer, though, finally touching his cock. You both moan at the feeling. Heâs hard and thick, and the head is wet. You bring your fingers to his lips, smearing some of the precome before leaning in to suck it off.
Youâre not prepared for his moan or for the way he attacks your mouth, and definitely not for him to snap your underwear using his flesh hand. Not even his vibranium one!
You moan into his mouth. He makes you feel like youâre floating and you need to fuck him right then.
âYouâre not just whorish, youâre a whore!â You pause when you feel his fingers close to your entrance. âNo wonder why you didnât belong in the 40s.â Then you move, allowing him to touch you. You donât realize what you said, and when you do, in the middle of dragging his shorts down, you curse yourself in your mind. It sounds like the most disrespectful thing ever. This manâs fate was changed by monsters who cryogenically freezing him and brainwashing him, and you are selfishly talking as if he belonged to you. âIâm sorry that was awful of-â But he interrupts you before you can get a chance to properly apologize.
âYou like that, donât you?â
A wave of shame surges through your body. Your cheeks are burning.
âIâm really sorry,â you take your hands off his shorts and look away, not even peaking at his cock. You ruined it, didnât you? âI will just go.â
Bucky shakes his head, puffing. âFor such an amazing agent, youâre not a good room reader, are you?â
Your eyes finally drop to his cock, which youâve been trying to avoid in the last minute out of shame, but thereâs no need anymore since heâs teasing you. Heâs just a bit longer than average, and heâs really thick, and the veins do not make it ugly at all. You are curious how itâd feel in your hand, how much itâd twitch, how Bucky would moan.
âYou arenât a good room reader, either then, Barnes, since Iâm not getting dicked down and my hair pulled, am I?â
Something snaps in him, and itâs visible in his eyes. You donât know what to expect so you just watch him. But you canât. He is so quick that, despite your crazy training, you donât anticipate his move. His hand wraps around the hair from your nape and fists it hard enough for you to move along with him.
âWanna be dicked down? Fine by me, get on your hands and knees.â
Youâre surprised, of course you are, but his tone is firm and you find yourself nodding and doing what he told you. You know you can say no; there is nothing in Buckyâs energy that makes you feel unsafe or as if you have no choice.
At the same time, he lets go of your hair just so he can take off his shorts completely.
âAre you not gonna make sure Iâm wet enough for you?â You ask when you see him getting closer to you again, even though you are very wet. You just want to push his buttons.
âI can smell you if I focus on it, let me remind you.â He smiles. âI know youâre soaked, and you wanna be dicked down. Or are you backing off?â
Challenging prick!
You roll your eyes. âIâm not scared of your dick.â
âGood, because he wants to be friends with you.â
You close your eyes, cringing. âGod, you were this close to turning me off.â You raise your hand in the air, putting your weight on the left one as you bring your thumb and index finger close to each other to show him exactly what a thin line this was.
Bucky laughs, shaking his head. âDonât worry, Iâm gonna make you forget it in a second.â
Your first instinct is to want to tease him about the second remark, to ask him if this is how long he can last, but youâre too horny now. And you also need rest for the mission tomorrow.
âHow, uhâŚâ You pause not knowing how to ask this properly. âCan you, uh, make babies?â You cringe at your words. âI mean, widows canât⌠and I just wanted to know if we need a condom to be extra careful since you might be extra fertile because I am on the pill and I have no idea how sex with a super sold-â
Buckyâs lips press against yours suddenly, making you stop talking.
âBreathe.â
âIâm breathing,â you whisper and he cups your face.
âNot enough. We can use a condom if you want, but Iâll need to check where I can find one. Or we can go bare if you trust me⌠I can pull out and you are already protected, so there shouldnât be a problem, I think.â He pauses to kiss your lips again. âBut we can still use a condom anyway to be extra careful as you said.â
You frown at that, suddenly more desperate to feel him bare than ever before.
âNo, I trust you. I have never done it without a condom before, and I assume you didnât have much time to uh⌠have sex.â
Bucky snorts amused. âNow why do you assume that?â
âYou look like you havenât been fucked since 1945.â
The fact he doesnât even deny it makes you feel even bolder, so you reach for his cock and place your thumb on his wet head while wrapping the rest of your hand around the length. âAre you gonna even last for a second once youâre inside me, Sergeant Barnes?â You snort when you see him trying to hold back his moan by biting his lip. It makes you feel happy. âOr do you even manage to get inside me before- ahh!â He is predictable this time as he pulls your hair, so you laugh.
âAre you familiar with this whole red, yellow, green color code?â
You gasp. âYes, read about it, never needed it. But how do you know that?â
âI read about it, too.â His grin is so wide and beautiful that you melt again.
âQuite naughty of you, Serge. Reading dirty books. Needed some ideas?â
Bucky smirks, kissing you again and again. âGonna need a review after I finish with you.â
âYou finishing with me?â You smile. âBig words, Barnes, but no action.â
He knows you challenge him, and you donât try to hide it. Do you have to beg for his cock for him to finally fuck you? He is edging you on purpose at this point.
You let out a whimper in anticipation when he moves behind you.
âAre you sure youâre fine with no condom?â
âIhm, Iâm not ovulating anyway,â you whisper, trying not to sound too eager. But you are. You want to get dicked down, indeed. And you wanted it for months.
His silence makes you a bit nervous, but the sounds of him dropping to his knees behind you, followed by his hand grabbing his cock and positioning it at your entrance while squeezing your hip with the metal arm.
You love the sensation of the coldness, but you love even more when he leans in to kiss your back before he pushes inside you.
It takes two tries, though, for him to be able to push halfway inside you because you kept pushing his dick out of you instantly. You managed to take him only when he brought his fingers to your clit and rubbed a bit.
You still laughed though because the sounds were too funny and his little frustrated whimpers were hilarious. The amusement turns quickly into more horniness when you feel him stretching you without even being fully inside you. You dreamed and daydreamed about it⌠fantasized about it, but it still wasnât even close to how it actually feels. How full it feels. Itâs like you cannot even think, your body is weak.
âFuck,â your voice is cracking. âDeeper.â
âYouâre so fucking tight,â he whispers.
âSo?â You bring your hand to his ass, trying to show him you really need it deeper. âWhy do you make it sound like a bad thing? Or are you trying not to come, Mr. Super Soldier?â
âYou have quite a mouth on you, I think you need it-â
âYou talk way too much. Are you nervous or-â Itâs his turn to interrupt you with a thrust. Such a deep thrust your head is spinning. Heâs not fully inside you, you realize, but he doesnât try to, instead, he starts to fuck you, taking your breath away. His fingers leave your clit, grabbing your hips with both hands.
There is no question anymore, just fucking as you wanted.
And it feels like heaven. You try to keep your eyes open just so you look at him over your shoulder, but itâs impossible.
âCat got your tongue?â
You groan. âNo, you did, n-now fuck me harder.â
âWell, well,â he slows down and you almost wanna die. âThis is not how you talk to your Sergeant, is it?â
He canât do this!
âFuck you!â
âWhat does my baby want?â His thrusts are too slow and teasing, just like his voice. âUse your words, beg for it.â
Youâre not turned off, surprisingly. Not at all, on the contrary, the firm tone he uses, the words⌠youâre getting hornier, if that is even possible.
âI love your cock, Sergeant, so please give it to me. Fuck me harder and faster. Need you to pull my hair, and choke me, and⌠be rough.â You would be embarrassed if you werenât so desperate. You know he wouldnât make fun of you for this, so you trust him.
âOnly mine.â You take a deep breath relieved when you feel his right hand wrap around your hair. âDo you hear me? Answer me.â
You nod, unable to say anything because he starts to thrust hard and fast, just like he did before he stopped. Your tits are jumping at the impact, and you have to dig your toes into the floor.
âUse your words. If you want my,â he moans. âIf you want my cock and my hand wrapped around your neck, you have to use your big girl words. Tell me youâre only mine.â
You canât hold back your tears this time. You love it so much, you canât believe you waited so long to have him.
âOnly yours.â
âNo Steve.â
He lets go of your hair, wrapping his hand around your neck. No pressure, not moving it, heâs just holding it there.
âThereâs n-no Steve, Sergeant. Only you. My pussy belongs to you. I o-only want to get filled by you.â
You know heâs smiling without needing to look at him.
âYou love your Sergeantâs cock, donât you?â You have no idea how heâs able to speak while thrusting so hard. Heâs a fucking robot, indeed. âNo one else could give you this, no matter how much they tried.â
You feel the building in your core. Youâre so, so close already, so you try to place your weight on only one hand and bring the other to cover his, and before he can say something, you encourage him to choke you by pressing his fingers on the sides of your neck.
You moan so loudly you surprise even yourself. You sound like a cat.
âPlease, sergeant, please, choke me.â You repeat your move and you close your eyes. âPlease, daddy, Iâm so c-close.â
He pauses for a second, and you donât know why.
Before you can ask whatâs wrong, he doesnât just start to thrust inside you again, he dicks you down just the way you wanted. Itâs as if he fucks the air out of your lungs every time you exhale. Youâre crying and screaming at this point, so loud the whole floor must hear you. But youâre not ashamed. You feel so close you can almost taste it.
You barely hear his whimpers, but theyâre there and theyâre so beautiful.
You get no warning when he decides to squeeze the sides of your neck: gently at first, but then? Perfect. So perfect you come without warning, not being able to even say his name. You just scream some nonsense, your hand dropping from his to the floor so you can ground yourself properly. Your whole body is burning, and burning, and burning, coming alive for what feels like an eternity.
He doesnât wait even for a second after you come down from your orgasm. Instead, he gets his dick out of you, grabbing you by your ass and raising you in his arms. Still weak, you barely have the strength to wrap your legs around his waist and your hands around his neck. Heâs sweaty but not that hot. His metal arm is making you cool down.
âDaddyâs gonna take good care of you.â His lips find your forehead and you fight the urge to kiss his neck. You feel so small in his arms⌠and as if no one can hurt you.
Youâre smiling like a fool when your back hits his bed, and so is he. Such a beautiful, blinding smile.
You let him spread your legs before you drag his face down so you can kiss him. You bite his lip hard until he opens his mouth, moaning when you feel him entering you again. This time, youâre relaxed so he thrusts inside you so much easier.
âGonna make you come again around your daddyâs cock..â
His hands wrap your legs around his ass when he starts to thrust again.
âYouâre quite⌠into it, Sergeant Barnes. So dirty!â
He gently grabs your jaw. âTongue out.â
You do it, opening your mouth and waiting, and waiting until you finally understand what heâs about to do.
Instead of being grossed out, as you expected, you eagerly swallow the saliva that he lets drip from his mouth, which lands on your tongue.
You bat your eyes as you start to move your hips to meet his thrusts halfway, and that sends him into a frenzy.
âFucking hell, you donât want to sleep tonight, do you?â He asks sarcastically, but you donât have enough air to tease him with a stamina comment. âYou want me to make you scream and swallow my spit and come till we have to go to that fucking mission. Till your beloved Steve needs to come to us himself and hear us covered in come but still fucking.â You moan at the idea of your teammates finding out about this. You get awful comments anyway; at least you can get him for real and rub it in their faces. âYou would like that, wouldnât ya? Having all my undivided attention on you, not caring that my best friend is madâŚâ The thrusts are so deep that your head falls on the pillow instantly. You cannot keep your eyes open for even a second and youâre crying again. âNot caring my pal wanted you so badly he even tried to take you out tonight.â
âSergeant-â
Thrust after thrust. You grab his forearm as tightly as you can so you can have something to hold onto.
âHe thought he could have you, that youâd choose him. Come on, love. Come on, scream my name, let them hear. Let them all hear whose cock you cry for. Who is the one you belong to.â His balls slap against your skin so hard they tickle you. But not even that can distract you from almost reaching your orgasm. His words, his cock, his possessivenessâŚ
âSergeant, please. No one but you, can I⌠c-can I touch my clit? Iâm so, so close.â
You donât have to, though, because he is quick enough to bring his flesh hand between your bodies and rub your clit just the way you need it.
âF-fuck, coming,â you manage to warn him before the pleasure hits you. Itâs so overwhelming you see white, digging your nails into his forearm.
You donât know what you call him⌠daddy, Bucky or sergeant, but it doesnât matter. You hear his praise, how youâre his good girl, and his words encouraging you to come for him.
When you can focus again, you kiss him with everything you have.
âNeed you to come for me, Sergeant Barnes,â you whisper between kisses. âNeed you to come inside me, need you to fill me up with your come, sir.â
He hisses loudly, his eyes being more grey than blue.
âDonât tease me.â
âI mean it,â you make eye contact, wrapping your legs tighter around him. âNot the heat of the moment. I need your come, daddy. Iâm on birth-â
He kisses you so hard your teeth end up hitting, but you donât care. This is everything.
âGonna come, gonna give you what you want. Gonna make you my come s-slut. Is that what you needed?â
âYes, yes.â Youâre so excited to watch him finish you donât even realize how much you like being called his come slut until he says it again. âCome on, Sergeant, come for me.â
After you say that, it only takes him two more thrusts to finish, moaning your name.
His eyes close, and you notice how pretty his eyelashes are. And the little moles on his face⌠his mouth semi-open and his hair in all directions.
You want to witness this every day.
Before you can stop yourself, you lean in to kiss his nose and cheeks, letting your hips move at the same time.
âC-canât⌠doesnât stop,â he manages to groan, and you bring your hand to his nape, caressing his hair as he rides out his orgasm.
When he finally finishes, though, his head falls on top of your breasts, his mouth finding your nipple and playing with it before sucking it fully into his mouth.
âEasy, Bucky,â you moan, but he keeps going, though.
You have to pull his hair, to make him stop.
âDonât get me wrong, I love it, but I need to uh⌠Iâm tired.â
Youâre back to your shy self. But his smile still makes you feel so relaxed.
âGot you tired, huh?â He winks, giving your breasts a kiss before pressing his lips against yours. âFuck, Iâve never been so aroused in my entire life. Wonât even mention how happy I am.â
âMe neither,â you whisper.
âWell, we need to get used to it.â
You laugh so happily that you think your chest will explode. Itâs surreal.
âYou owe me that dinner after all.â
âA million dinners.â
You roll your eyes playfully. âTrying to charm me?â
He pecks you one more time before getting out of you with a whimper.
âIâve already done it.â
Itâs weird to be empty like this again, but seeing your come and wetness on his pubic hair or dripping out of your pussy just to soak the sheets beneath you distracts you. You made a mess.
âWe need to clean this.â
âDonât worry about it,â he says distractedly as he uses his index finger to push some come back inside you. Jesus! âThis is the hottest thing Iâve ever seen.â
You smile. âYouâre a whore.â
âYour whore.â He slowly gets out of bed, grabbing his shorts from the floor.
âWant me to go?â You ask all of a sudden, gaining a confused look from him.
âWhy would I want that? Unless you do, of courseâŚâ He runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix it a little. âBut I want you to stay.â
âSaw you dressing.â You bring your knees up just to put your chin on top of them. You feel extra shy.
He smiles. âJust gonna get you some water. I donât want you dehydrated.â
*
Bucky knew Steve was in the kitchen as soon as he went down the stairs. He smiles casually, not giving him a second look as he goes straight to the fridge. Itâs not like he hasnât seen him in shorts or shirtless before, and Bucky knows he knew exactly what happened upstairs.
âCanât sleep?â Steveâs tone is so obvious Bucky almost laughs.
âNot sleepy yet. What about you? Youâre alright, punk?â
âYeah,â he says, taking a sip from his own glass of water; his hands tightly wrapped around the glass.
âStill mad about earlier? You know Iâm right.â
Steve shakes his head. âNo, itâs all good.â
Bucky sighs dramatically. He loves Steve, he is his brother, but sometimes he is so annoying.
âWell, try to get some sleep. I suggest you wear some earplugs or something, though,â Bucky suggests casually, taking a whole bottle of water. âWe wouldnât want you too sleepy tomorrow. And the night is young.â He even winks at Steve, making him clear his throat.
âBuckâŚâ
âNot a super soldier perk, I know, but you understand, right?â The smirk he suddenly gives Steve is almost sinister. âShe chose me after all, and I gotta let her test-drive me. Have a good night!â
Even though he turns around, Bucky doesnât miss the way Steveâs hold gets so tight that his glass almost breaks.
Bucky doesnât regret it. He had it coming when he thought youâd choose him.
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