#i tried to count up all of my wins but truly i managed like. one. Tumblr posts

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

[kissitbttr]

this is miguel o’hara being a dick

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

-

miguel knows he’s fucked.

he has been neglecting you, putting his work above your needs and ditched on dates he can’t count with his fingers. at first you were okay, given that you’re dating such a busy man like him, you understand the consequences.

but you’ve had enough. there were nights where you cooked dinner, only to be left untouched by him or where you softly cried yourself in the middle of the night because he was still out. the only time he comes home is when you’re already asleep, then he left to the HQ in the morning before you’ve gotten the chance to wake up.

you confronted him about this. paid a visit to his office before going to work. Jess and Lyla had warned you to not disturb him but you managed to make them back off with a single frightening look.

yes. they are scared of you. a lot of them are. they do not want to test you at all.

the moment you stepped into his office, he didn’t even bother to look. eyes were just too focused on his work that he assumed Jess was the one who walked in.

“oh, you’re fucking your co-worker now?” your tone laced with sarcasm and anger with arms crossed over your chest,

hearing the familiar voice, he had never whipped his head so fast. “y/n? what are you doing here?”

“well” you start, heels clicking against the floor as you step towards him. “since my boyfriend has been MIA for almost a week i figured i should stopped by.”

his head shook, turning his focus back to what he thought mattered most. “not right now, mi amor. I’m working.”

“i can see that, dumbass” you respond in a cold tone. frowning as to why he couldn’t take one second off from that god damn screen. “you and me are going to get breakfast together. now. before i go to work.”

“i told you I can’t. I’m busy” he replies, brushing you off with his hand. “next time.”

“i’m a busy woman too!” your voice shakes, wanting so bad to scream at him and throw that tiny desk at his head. “but I always want to make time for you, Miguel!”

no response. he muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear him.

un-fucking-believable

“you’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” tone laced with venom as you spit the words. clenching your fists by your side as you struggle to hold back the tears. “i feel like this relationship is one sided, the only person that is truly making an effort is me. you don’t—“

Miguel couldn’t take it anymore. he threw a desk and it went flying, thankfully it didn’t hit you. though your eyes went wide in shock, a loud gasp left your lips as you covered your mouth with your hands.

“you’re right! I don’t! I don’t care about some silly little fucking breakfast when the universe depends on me!” he pointed at himself as his irises turned red when he looked at you. his breathing went heavy and he still wasn’t aware how scared you were at him at that point.

“do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to keep all this shit together?! how many people will die if i don’t do what i gotta do! I don’t always like it, y/n but i have to do it! and here you are trying to play house with me it’s fucking pathetic!” he scoffed, putting his hands on hips.

oh he did not realize how much his words hurt.

the room was filled with silence. you stared at him in disbelief but remained a stoic expression. you were taught better than to be weak before any men. Miguel was no exception. your mother would be disappointed if you let a man win.

“wow” you breathed, nodding. “that was a good speech actually, the longest one I’ve ever heard you talking” you tried to sound sarcastic but how you felt and how you sounded failed you.

Miguel was quick to notice this and his features quickly soften. he reached out quickly to hold you.

“cariño i—“

“I’m returning back to my apartment by five. do not fucking look for me” it was final. the way you said it, how your eyes remained empty as you spoke to him. Miguel knew better than to test you,

but he just did and now he’s paying the price,

his heart broke when he heard you said that. you were so tired of him and you just wanted him back. you want your man back but he couldn’t see how that mattered to you.

“baby, please—“

you held your hand as you turned around. “don’t you even think about sending Jess or Miles my way.”

with that you walked out of his office without uttering another word. leaving him speechless and heartbroken. he knew better than to follow you out, it would just make things worse. he was just going to let you cool off.

he didn’t know how long it was gonna take.

it has been almost a month that you two have been living separately. and he’s losing his mind. he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can barely walk out of the house without seeing all the things that remind him of you. the team even sensed something is wrong because he has been more short tempered than before and it almost made the rest of spider society terrified of talking to him.

he’s gotten more violent, that’s for sure. every enemy he encountered, he would leave them bleed with their faces unrecognizable. it was his way of taking his stress out. not exactly healthy but it’ll do for now.

but he thinks that this has gotten too far. he misses you terribly, your scent, your laugh, your voice, your body, and mostly… your pussy

God, the amount of times he sniffed your panties while he jacked off as the image of you clouded his mind was simply not enough.

and now here he stands before your apartment door. dressed nicely in a white buttoned up shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black pants. his ring cladded fingers nervously grip around the boquete as the other hand shoved into his pocket.

Miguel had never been this nervous before. toeing his shoes and tapping his toes against the floor rapidly. it’s probably already been fifteen minutes that he’s standing like that staring at your door. thinking far too carefully what he wants to say.

he decides it’s now or never as he raises his fist and knock softly against the wooden door, hoping that you’re home.

“coming!” he hears your voice, his stomach somersaults hearing that after what it felt like a thousand year. “i am so hungry, why are you delivery guys always taking so—“

soon as you open the door, you freeze. definitely not the takeout delivery boy and instead it’s the one person you’ve been avoiding for God knows how long.

Miguel’s mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly taking in the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. you put on your favorite lime green night gown that stops just above your knees with a white silky robe, your hair fall down gracefully. natural curls framing your face. eyes glinting under the light, he almost falls to his knees and thank the Lord for your existence.

beauty doesn’t even begin to describe how you look tonight.

Miguel realizes how he probably looks like an idiot. clearing his throat to regain his composure as he smiles awkwardly at you. “Hi.”

you stare at him as your features then showcase a displeased expression. “what are you doing here?”

you’re leaning your body against the doorframe, arms crossed in annoyance. eyes flickering from his face to the flowers he’s holding and back up to his eyes. as much as you hate to see him, you can’t help that little feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you see the flowers he’s holding.

tulips. your favorite

he takes a one step closer to your frame, breathing out a sigh as he looks down at you. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”

that earns a scoff from you, looking away. “good start.”

“i was a horrible boyfriend.” he admits, gulping as he sees how sadness and exhaustion taking over your face just like that. “you don’t deserve that. what i said to you that day… none of it was true. you were not… pathetic, nor were the idea of having breakfast together… I appreciate every single thing we’ve done together, baby. believe me, por favor…”

a hard stare is the only thing he gets from you. the way your lips form into an angry pout and how your eyes seem to get tired and bored from his confession.

you’re a difficult person to please. he knows that.

“i know that being stress is no excuse of what I’ve done… I should’ve—fuck I should’ve done better. a month without you was like hell, mi corazon. ay, me sentí como si estuviera perdiendo la cabeza.” he sighs in frustration, head shaking as he recalls many sleepless nights. “i love you so so much. i do not want to go through that again … i know that it’s going to take forever to get your trust back and everything, but i swear on my mother’s grave that i—“

“stop talking”

he shuts his mouth after that. eyes looking up to you when he realizes you’re talking to him after a prolonged silence that’s taking over.

seeing how broken he looks almost feels like your heart got plucked. as mean as you are or as much as you wanted to look like you don’t care, you can’t when it comes to Miguel. you love this man far too much and despite his cold cold persona, that’s a huge sweetheart underneath.

“you hurt me, Miguel.” eyes casting down the floor as you try to keep your voice low. “you threw a desk to my direction…”

he shakes his head at that, resisting the urge to cradle your cheek. “lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean—“

“yes i know, i heard you.” you sigh, eyes closed momentarily. “you scared me”

Miguel feels his heart breaks when he hears how your voice breaks. he carefully lifts his hand to softly palm your cheek, thumb grazing against the skin. he exhales a soft sigh when you aren’t pushing him off.

“I didn’t mean to do that to you, my love. fuck, I’ve hurt you. i will never forgive myself for that. i was supposed to be the one who protect you and i was being a huge asshole.”

“a cute one though” you pout at him,

he chuckles at that, feeling the tension between you two are finally cutting down. “you’re too sweet, baby… after all i had done to you”

“nothing compared to how you treated me for the past two and a half years.” you smile sweetly at him, hand wrapping around his wrist. feeling at home once he holds you in his palm. “still a good man.”

he shakes his head in disagreement. “no, no that doesn’t excuse it… i was in the wrong.”

you hum in response, looking at the pretty flowers still in his hand. “are those for me?”

he nods with a smile, “you’re my only woman, no?”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you smile, taking it from his grasp as you sniff the pretty petals. “i love them. thank you.”

he once again goes quiet, taking another step closer. eyes looking down at your glossy lips and he can’t take it anymore. he doesn’t care if he’s stepping boundaries here. “i miss you, cariño. can i show you just how much?”

his offer sends shiver down your spine, making it impossible for you to stand still. Miguel always knows your sweet spot, how to make your knees feel wobbly without having him to touch you.

you do miss him touching you,

“i have a ballet class to teach tomorrow, papi. Saturday morning class, you remember ?” a pout formed on your lips, yet you still allow him to pull you close to him as he closes the door behind. “plus don’t you have work too? i bet Jess needs you.”

Migue nearly growls at you calling him ‘papi’. his jeans growing tight as you look up to him with doe eyes that you know he loves. though sometimes, you don’t understand the effect you have on him.

“that can wait… you’re more important to me than anything” he whispers, giving your open hand a kiss. large palm coming down to grip your waist, giving it a light squeeze. “do you want me too?”

you respond with a slow nod, biting back a smile as you interlock your hand with his pulling him inside. his smirk grows wider as he leans over to capture your mouth in his,

“let me fuck you real good then we can come home, eh mi vida?” he promises against your lips, slipping your soft silky robe off of you before picking you up in bridal style causing to shriek and giggle,

“i wanna hear you scream my name.”

-

part 2?

[springtyme]

Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.

So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.

I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!

Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡

Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!

Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.

Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”

Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.

You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”

You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.

Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”

“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.

Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.

“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.

“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.

He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.

As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.

Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.

It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.

“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.

Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.

“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”

Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.

“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.

Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”

“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.

Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.

“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.

You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.

Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.

“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.

You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”

“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.

You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.

You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.

He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.

Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.

And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.

As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move

“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.

Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.

“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.

“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”

You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.

As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.

[navybrat817]

A Little Push

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't think he deserves to be with you, but gets a little push to speak up when he sees your ex. Word Count: Over 5.1k Warnings: E.S.C, unprotected (v)aginal (s)ex (wrap it before you tap it), shower (s)ex, jealousy, (f)lirting, insecurities, slight feels (it's me), idiotic Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) and an ex. A/N: For @drabblewithfrannybarnes and the gym prompt. I hope you like it! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass (and thank you!), and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wondered some days if he made the right choice by working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. While he didn’t consider himself to be completely standoffish as he recovered, no matter how much Sam tried to joke about that, he still had a difficult time getting along with some of the agents. It wasn’t for lack of trying. He attempted to strike up conversations with a few, but that only led to forced interactions and awkward silences.

He didn’t try much after that.

Maybe they didn’t trust him because of his past, even with the work he had done with the Avengers, even though he had no choice in his past actions. He wouldn’t hold that against them. He was even ready to accept that his circle of friends would remain small, which he didn’t mind.

But he hadn’t expected you to come along.

“You can sit with me if you’d like.”

At first, he thought you were talking to someone else until he realized your gaze was on him. He didn’t recognize you, but he remembered Steve saying that they were getting a transfer from another division. He hoped he wasn’t glaring or giving you an awkward stare, but your beautiful smile threw him for a loop. Unless he was with Steve and the others, no one asked him to sit with them.

But you did.

It took another moment for him to respond, but he took you up on your offer and joined you. He also picked up on the stares right away from the other agents, like they were jealous that he managed to get your attention. He didn’t blame them for wanting it.

Especially since the next smile you gave him made him fall in love a little more.

Maybe love at first sight does exist.

“Do you go by Bucky or James? I can call you Sarge if you want, Sergeant.”

You explained over breakfast that you transferred because you needed a change and were excited to take on some new tasks. He didn’t pick up on any bad intentions as you spoke with him. He found it easy to talk to you. You even got a couple of smiles out of him.

“Thanks for sitting with me. Do you want to have breakfast with me again tomorrow?”

Bucky accepted.

As the two of you grew closer, it became routine to grab breakfast together in the breakroom and chat quietly between reps when you worked out. He even shifted his schedule around so the two of you could exercise together. He looked forward to it.

And naturally on his path to continue making amends, he had to punish himself by thinking he wasn’t good enough for you. Because why would he be? You became an agent to help others and how many had he destroyed? Not by choice, never his choice, but he was still waging that war in his mind and heart.

“Will today finally be the day, Barnes?” Natasha asked as she finished her stretches.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky grumbled, his eyes flickering to the clock on the wall as he waited for you to enter the onsite gym.

“Yes, you do and let it be today, please. I can’t have Rogers winning the pool.”

“You’re taking bets, Romanoff?” he asked with a cold stare, as if the Black Widow would cower under his gaze. “Un-fucking-believable.”

He told Steve in confidence that he liked being around you. So, naturally, Sam and Natasha found out not long after that. Steve said more than once that Bucky wouldn’t be breaking any bylaws by dating you. Natasha added in passing that mixing business with pleasure didn’t seem to bother you as you had dated another agent sometime back before your transfer. An amicable breakup from what Sam heard.

For living in a world of spies and soldiers, no one could seem to keep their mouths shut.

“I’ll split the winnings with you,” she offered unapologetically. “You can use it to take her on a date. You do have something nice to wear that isn’t a Henley, right?”

The smartass remark he had on the tip of his tongue died when you walked through the door. Clad in your normal black tank top and leggings with your bag on your shoulder, he found himself staring the way he always did as you glided along the floor with confidence and a smile. A few heads turned to get a glimpse as you walked by.

But you directed your gaze at him.

“Hey, handsome,” you smiled, setting your bag and water down. You didn’t call anyone handsome or any other sort of nickname, except for him.

“Hi?”

Why did that come out as a question?

“Hopeless,” Natasha muttered softly enough for him to hear. “Hey.”

“Hey, Nat. How’s it going?”

His cheeks warmed as you began your stretches and chatted with the redhead, wanting nothing more than to put his hands on your hips and guide your body. He wanted to believe that you liked him enough for him to make a move. Why else would you keep getting breakfast with him?

And why else were you bending over right in front of him in a pair of leggings that looked like a second skin?

Fuck.

“Oh, I have your book in my bag,” you said, looking at him from between your legs. “Thanks for lending it to me.”

Thank fuck I’m upside down from your angle so you don’t see me staring at your ass.

Guilt crept in as he blinked. You were nothing but kind and accepting and here he was oogling over you. Why couldn’t he get it through his head that he was your friend and nothing more?

On the other hand, why couldn’t he get it through his head that he had the right to be happy?

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

“Do you mind spotting me?” you asked once you finished warming up. “Unless you plan to help Nat. I can wait.”

“Oh, no. I’m just here for entertainment,” she joked.

“Thanks,” you smiled, heading to the first machine with Bucky in tow. “Any plans this weekend?” you asked, checking the weight on the bar before you took a seat.

“No plans,” he said, taking his spot at the end of the bench so he could spot you. “Kind of a boring old man.”

“You’re not boring,” you said, winking as you laid back. “But I’ll give you old.”

“Rude,” he smiled as you giggled. “What about you?”

“Nope. No plans,” you answered, giving him a glance as you set your hands on the bar. “No plans at all.”

Are you giving me an opening?

“That’s too bad,” is what he said.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you said with quiet disappointment.

Sorry, Nat. Not winning the pool today because I’m a fucking idiot.

Bucky kept stealing glances at you as the two of you went through your normal workout routine, unable to figure out how you managed to look beautiful while lifting weights. The fact of the matter is you looked beautiful to him no matter what you did. He fluctuated between his heart stopping and losing his breath whenever he saw you. Especially when you smiled at him.

And he wouldn’t take that leap.

“You know what sounds really nice? A massage,” you said, setting the weight down to grab your water. He focused on your mouth as you brought the bottle to your lips, his fingers flexing as you swallowed once. Twice.

Are you giving me another opening?

Before Bucky could think of a suave reply, the door opened. A tall, dark haired agent he didn’t recognize walked in and did a slow sweep of the gym. From the quick assessment, he gathered that the guy was in shape. He didn’t necessarily walk through like he owned the place, but it bordered on cockiness.

I don’t even know him, so why do I want to punch his face in?

“Wait. Is that Nate?” you asked, your gaze following the man as Natasha silently walked over to join you. “What’s he doing here?”

Nate?

“You know him?” Bucky asked as the guy, Nate apparently, stopped to chat with someone by the mirrors.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, setting your water down and wiping your hands on your thighs as you avoided his gaze. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Ex-boyfriend?

“You two worked in the same division, didn’t you? Before you transferred?” Natasha asked. You nodded in reply. “It didn’t work out with you two, huh?”

“No, but it wasn’t a dramatic breakup or anything. No hard feelings,” you explained.

Bucky remembered Sam saying it was amicable, but he still felt the need to shield you away from your ex. Even if he hadn’t spotted you yet. Maybe he was ignoring you. That couldn’t be it. No one could ignore you.

Did you want him to notice you?

“That’s a shame,” Natasha said, swinging her gaze toward Bucky. “He’s cute.”

Traitor. Thought you were my friend.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed.

Bucky grabbed the nearest barbell to get his head back into why he was in the gym in the first place, gritting his teeth so hard he was shocked they didn’t crack.

“And there’s this thing he used to do with his tongue that just…” you trailed off with a sigh.

The metal hand gripped the barbell tighter. Nate was an ex, not a current boyfriend. It didn’t work out for a reason.

“You need a moment?” the redhead asked.

“No, I just need to get laid,” you said, glancing at Bucky out of the corner of your eye.

If you need to get laid, I can help you with that. Not Nate or some other prick. They’re not worthy of touching you. Neither am I, but that’s not the fucking point. I can do things with my tongue that’ll make you see stars.

“Bucky?” you asked gently. “Are you okay?”

Far fucking from it.

“Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

You pointed to the barbell in his hands. “Because you just bent that in half.”

Glancing down at his hands, he saw that the stainless steel was indeed bent in half and ignored Natasha’s snort as he tried to fix it. “I was just testing the durability. It’s terrible. A health and safety hazard, really.”

“I didn’t realize your job involved quality assurance,” you teased as he set the piece of equipment down.

“It’s kind of a new hobby,” he said, a weird look crossing his face.

A new hobby? Really?

“Okay, Sarge,” you giggled.

Your laughter seemed to catch Nate’s attention since he immediately looked behind him. A look of realization crossed his features before he smiled. The look on his face made Bucky’s heart drop as he excused himself from the agent he was speaking to and made a beeline toward you. The man may not be your boyfriend anymore, but he still felt something for you.

Either that or the look of longing was easily faked.

“Hey!" Nate smiled as he stopped in front of you, opening his arms as he leaned in. "Good to see you."

“You, too. And you don’t want to do that,” you said, gesturing to yourself. “I’m all sweaty.”

“Never bothered me before,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. He met Bucky’s gaze over your shoulder with the smallest of smirks. “Smell just as good as I remember.”

“Don’t,” Natasha whispered to Bucky when the hug lingered for a few more seconds.

Bucky wasn’t planning on doing anything. Not right now, at least. Committing murder wasn’t on his “to do” list when he woke up today, but he was seconds away from snapping. Would you forgive him if he broke one of Nate’s bones?

“You must be Bucky,” Nate said once he released you.

He had to stop himself from shoving you behind his back. “You must be the ex,” he said, not bothering with any attempt to be friendly. “Why are you here?”

Nate either didn’t intimidate easily or he didn’t care. “You talked about me?” he teased, nudging you with his elbow.

“No, not really,” you smiled a little, raising an eyebrow at Bucky.

He tried to keep a straight face because he wasn’t jealous. He had no reason to be jealous. That certainly wasn’t the reason why his fingers began to twitch. Wasn’t the reason he wanted to knock Nate’s teeth in.

Not at all.

“To anwer your question, I accepted a transfer and was getting a look around the place. I was also here to exercise, but now I think I want to catch up,” he smiled, turning his attention back to you.

“You transferred here?” you asked in disbelief.

You don’t sound thrilled, which is a good sign, right?

“Yeah, I got promoted,” he explained, angling his body to put distance between you and Bucky. “You doing anything after this?”

“Me,” Bucky said before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Maybe you didn't hear me.

Your eyebrows shot up as you leaned around Nate to stare at Bucky. "I'm doing you?" you asked.

Fuck, you heard me.

"Yeah, Barnes. Is she doing you?" Natasha asked without a hint of humor in her tone as Nate glared over his shoulder.

"I mean," he cleared his throat as he tried to think of an excuse, which wasn't easy with three pairs of eyes on him. "She's hanging out with me. Movie night."

"It's not even nighttime," Nate said skeptically.

"It's an early movie night," he grumbled.

"Yeah, an early movie night," you agreed slowly. Bucky almost sighed in relief before you looked at Nate. "But we can catch up later, okay? Think my workout is over for now."

Bucky's mouth fell open when you went to grab your things. "But-"

"Movie night. I know. Thanks for your help," you smiled, but it seemed forced. "I'll see you later, Nat. And Nate."

"Later," Nate said, his gaze lingering as you headed toward the locker room. "She really is something, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is," Bucky agreed, staring after you, too. He couldn't argue with that.

"It's really nice that you two are friends," Nate smiled, clapping Bucky on the shoulder as his blood boiled. "Enjoy your movie night."

Natasha stepped in front of Bucky before he could go after the prick. "Do not," she said as Nate headed toward another machine.

"I have to do something," Bucky said because he was close to losing it.

"You really want to do something?" she asked, tilting her head toward the locker room. "Go talk to her. Please."

"Fine. I will," Bucky said, stepping around Natasha as he made up his mind.

"I meant when she was done!" she called after him.

Bucky stalked toward the locker room and pushed the double doors open. He took a breath as he walked through the first row of lockers and spotted you sitting on the bench. Was he making a big mistake?

"You lost?" you asked, removing one of your shoes.

He crossed his arms and shook his head as you took off the other shoe. "You didn't do a cool down."

You met his eyes and smiled. "That's why you came in here?"

"Did you know Nate would be here?" he blurted out.

Smooth.

You blinked slowly at him before you removed your socks. "Nope. And why would it matter if I did? He still works for this organization. Besides, we broke up and moved on."

"If he moved on, why was he smiling at you like that?" he accused.

You stood up with a shrug. "Because we get along? He's a friendly guy. That's just how he is."

"I know how guys smile at girls they like," he said. He knew because he smiled at you that way. "He's still into you."

The frown you gave him made him want to kiss it away before you giggled. "He is not into me anymore."

"Are you two going to date again?" he asked, taking two steps forward. You were still out of his reach. "I know I don't have the right to ask, but I have to know."

Because you're not my girl.

“No, you don't," you confirmed, your gaze softening as you shook your head. "But no, I’m not going to date him again. He's my ex for a reason and that's that."

Bucky inhaled and exhaled slowly, able to breathe a little easier.

"Why? Would it bother you if I did? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous. Bending the bar? Your not-so-subtle excuse for me not to hang out with him? Following me in here?"

The words got stuck in his throat as you waited for an answer, an expectant look on your face. Why was it so hard to say that it would bother him? It shouldn't because if that made you happy, he'd respect that.

Was it wrong that he wanted you to be happy with him and not some other guy?

You hung your head for a split second before you turned back to your locker. "Look, are you done grilling me or are you sticking around?" you asked, pulling your top over your head. "Because I have to shower."

"You think I won't follow you and finish this conversation?"

Your bra came off next. He knew that because you tossed the garment at his face and he was too stunned to catch it. It took him a moment to realize that you were facing him again, your breasts on display as you placed your hands on your hips.

A gentleman would have looked away. A good man would have left. But he was something else entirely and he couldn't stop staring at the vision of perfection in front of him.

"You're free to do whatever you want," you said casually as you spun around and shimmied out of your leggings. His eyes followed the curves as your underwear came off next and it took everything in him not to throw you across the bench and fuck you until you screamed his name. "But I told you. I have to shower."

Bucky didn't speak as you grabbed your towel and shower bag. You didn't bother covering up as you sauntered away from him, like being naked around him was a perfectly normal thing. He wanted it to be a normal thing.

Was that an invitation? Should he take it? Or was it a test?

"Fuck it," he mumbled as he kicked off his shoes and stripped, leaving his clothes next to yours as he searched for you again. If you ended up screaming or punching him, he'd accept that punishment and beg your forgiveness later. He let this go on long enough.

He froze when he saw you under the spray of the water, his cock twitching with interest as he watched the droplets slide from your chest to the vee between your legs. You had your eyes closed and he wasn't sure if he should call out to get your attention. He didn't want to frighten you and make you fall.

You gasped when you opened your eyes, but didn't make a move to cover yourself. He imagined this is what some men saw when a siren lured them out to sea. Beauty that they weren't worthy of looking upon, but too far gone to care as the tide swept them away.

"I guess you really want to finish that conversation?" you asked, your gaze dropping from his face to his chest and a bit lower.

Under your gaze, he wasn't afraid of you looking upon his scars. "I was jealous. I am jealous. I hated seeing him touch you," he admitted.

He wanted to replace Nate's touch with his own.

"There's nothing to be jealous of," you said, swallowing as he moved forward.

"Can't help it," he said, not blinking as he moved closer. "You also said I could do whatever I wanted."

"I did," you nodded.

His wide shoulders blocked some of the spray as he stepped into the shower and backed you against the wall. "What if I said I wanted to do you?"

Very fucking eloquent.

"I'd say it's about fucking time since I've been trying to get your attention and it better not be a joke," you said, placing your hands on his shoulders as your gaze went to his chest again.

You actually want me. Fuck.

He grasped your chin and lifted your head. The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile and his heart raced as his lips ghosted over yours. "You like me? And you want me to fuck you?"

He needed to hear you say it.

"I was hinting for you to ask me out this weekend. I thought it was obvious?" you asked, a small, vulnerable crack in your voice. "I like you, okay? I'm crazy about you. I have been since you sat down and had breakfast with me that first day and I-"

"I'm a fucking idiot," he whispered before his lips met yours.

His head spun as he kissed you unashamedly, unleashing the want he kept pent up for too long and showing no mercy as he swallowed down the moan you let out. His hands slid down to grip your ass, capturing another small sound in his mouth as he slipped his thigh between your legs. Now that it was out in the open, that you wanted him, he couldn't stop himself.

Unless you told him to.

"So, you like me, too?" you breathed out as he pressed kisses along your neck, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust his knee against your wetness.

Gonna lose my fucking mind when I'm inside you.

"So much that I wanted to break Nate's fingers. Or his face," he told you, nipping over your pulse, but careful not to leave a mark. "Want you to forget all about that thing he does with his fucking tongue."

"You up for the challenge?" you teased before he growled.

"Up for it?" he asked as he slid a hand up to your chest, his thumb brushing over your nipple as you whimpered for him. "I'm gonna ruin you. That's a fucking promise."

"Do it. Please," you begged, bringing a hand down to brush your fingers along his thick cock. "Ruin me."

You already looked overwhelmed with pleasure, your eyes half lidded and mouth parted as Bucky moved his knee away and brought one of your legs around his hip. He wanted to fall to his knees and get a taste, but he'd claim you later with his tongue. "Not letting you go if I have you," he warned you, helping you stroke him.

"You better not," you said.

Bucky could've put his fingers under the water, but he brought them to his mouth to wet them before he slipped it between your legs. "You'll be mine," he said as he teased your hole.

"I'm already yours," you gasped as he carefully pushed a finger in and thrust slowly.

"Are you?" he asked, brushing his lips against your jaw as he slid a second finger in. "Fuck, you're tight. You may kill me."

"Yes, I'm yours. And I won't kill you, but I'll make you sorry if you don't fuck me," you huffed impatiently.

He chuckled as he removed his fingers, missing the heat of your body. He understood not wanting to wait any longer. He fucked his own hand enough nights as he thought of you to know that it wasn't enough.

"What if someone walks in?" he questioned, sucking his fingers clean with an obscene groan.

I can convince you to take a day off just to eat you out, right?

"I don't care!" you cried, your voice echoing in the stall as he moved the tip of his cock along your folds. You canted your hips as you tried to take him in and, fuck, if that didn't feed his ego. "If you don't fuck me, I swear I'll- AHH!"

He groaned as he slid home in one thrust, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls gripped him like your life depended on it. He took a deep breath so he didn't lose it on the second thrust. Your perfect pussy was his new home. He never wanted to leave.

"Fuck, baby, you're so needy. I think you want everyone to see that you're mine now," he groaned as he caressed your thigh and drove in deep. Your cunt welcomed each slide as he kept your hips still with his other hand. "Gonna fuck you so hard you won't walk for a week. The way I should've from the start."

"Don't hold back," you moaned, clenching lightly around him. "I can take it."

Bucky couldn't remember ever fucking someone so possessively. "Pussy's even better than I imagined. Made for me. Made for me to wreck."

"Fuck, yes," you cried in response. "Touched myself thinking of you fucking me."

"You fucked your perfect pussy thinking of me?" he asked, imagining your fingers deep inside you. "Moaned my name?"

"Yes," you replied, biting your lip. "Fingers aren't as big as you."

Fuck. There's only so much a man can take.

"Look so beautiful taking my cock. Gonna be so good to you," he grunted, his wet hair falling in front of his eyes. If he had to guess, he probably looked unhinged. Feral. Out of control. "Not letting you go."

Instead of looking afraid, you reached up and lightly threaded your fingers through his hair as your leg shook against his hip. "I won't let you."

He kissed you, almost delirious as the rush of pleasure began to take over. You took his hard, fast thrusts, the symphony of your cries and his moans adding to the sound of wet, slapping skin. Later, he'd make love to you, kiss over every square inch of your beautiful body. He'd tell how crazy he is about you. How you made him happy again.

For now, he needed you to scream his name for the whole gym to hear.

"I'm close, Bucky," you panted into his mouth. "Please."

He doubled his efforts, thrusting so hard he lost his breath with each snap of his hips. "If you're really mine, come. Come for me."

You nearly sobbed his name as you quivered around him, a wave of wetness coating his cock as he kept up his pace and fucked you through your orgasm. "Good girl," he praised as you went limp in his hold.

It was a beautiful sight. Your dazed expression, your cunt clenching with a fresh wave of wetness as you whined. A fucking vision.

"I'm gonna…" he warned, his muscles tensing up as he got closer to the edge.

"Come in me," you begged, tightening around him again. "Please, I need it."

Fuck.

Bucky spilled hot and thick inside you with a guttural moan as he let the ecstasy within him explode, relieved that you didn't make him leave the haven of your body. He was careful not to crush you against the wall as he tried to catch his breath and process that what just happened was real. It wasn't a dream or fantasy. He had you in his arms under the warm water.

Could've had this ages ago if I spoke up.

His lips found yours, his kiss softer than the previous ones. He wasn't sure how long he held you like that, but it was everything he dreamt of and everything he denied himself. He wouldn't do that again.

"You okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No," you smiled, your breathing still a bit tagged. "And I think I can still walk."

He growled playfully as he rolled his hips, thankful that he had the strength to keep holding you up. His stamina was good for some things. "Come to movie night and I'll make sure you don't walk. You did say you needed to get laid."

"I did say that," you smiled, nipping his bottom lip. "I'll do a movie night if you take me out on a real date."

"This weekend since neither of us have plans. I'd be a bad boyfriend if I didn't take care of you, right?" he asked, kissing the corner of your mouth to avoid your surprised gaze.

Pushed my luck this far. I can go a bit further.

"It's a date," you smiled.

Bucky smiled back as he reached over to shut the water off, wishing he could blame the warmth for the blush in his cheeks. "Sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass."

"I forgive you," you said, your nose nudging his.

"I just wanted you to have better," he whispered.

You deserve the best.

You blinked away the leftover pleasure that lingered in your eyes. "What? You're already the best guy I know, handsome. No one is better than you," you said, the sincerity in your eyes making his heart twist. "I know you'll be the best boyfriend for me."

Thank you.

"Well, as the best boyfriend, I think I owe you one more orgasm before we go," he smirked, his hands roaming your body. "If you're up for it."

"I'll take whatever you give me," you said before you smirked back. "But maybe I should thank Nate since he's the one who got your head out of your ass."

"Don't you fucking dare," he said, kissing you breathless before you could say his name again.

Bucky was your boyfriend now and the only name he wanted to tumble from your beautiful lips was his own. He'd do whatever he could to make that happen. And be the man you deserve.

Natasha watched from the corner of the gym as you and Bucky emerged from the locker room minutes later. You had stars in your eyes and Bucky looked over the moon. Your legs wobbled slightly and the soldier easily slid an arm around your waist to steady you and walk you out. He even threw Nate a smirk and a wink when he got a glimpse of the two of you.

The redhead messaged the group chat for the bet once the two of you were out of sight. "Locker room. I won."

"What? I was so close!" Steve messaged back.

"Cheater!" Sam sent. "I know you got her ex transferred here. Don't deny it."

"I did not get him transferred. I just knew and didn't tell them he'd be here today. I expect my payment at dinner tonight."

The redhead put her phone away as she tried not to smile. Bucky just needed a push and she wasn't afraid to play a little dirty. But she'd keep her word and split the winnings.

The two of you deserved a nice date, after all.

Oh, Bucky. Whatever will we do with you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Headcanons on Crewel meeting his own tsum? We got one for Rollo and Crowley(I think), so any for Crewel?

Crowley interacting with his Tsum here!

Rollo interacting with his Tsum here!

Curiouser and Curiouser…

He’s NOT happy, not happy at all. Crewel’s job stipulates that he babysit pups during lectures and office hours—it said nothing about monitoring a Tsum in his off-time!

Tsum!Crewel keeps following him around like a lost puppy seeking comfort from its owner, ignoring his various attempts to keep it at bay or to push it back with his pointer. At first, Crewel thinks it is irritating. With time though, he finds it a little… endearing.

It tries to copy him! Tsum!Crewel picks up a little stick and mimics his movements with the pointer. It’s hard to pay attention to the lecture when you’re focuses on that cute display

It’s easy to spot Tsum!Crewel (because of how monochrome it is) among the alchemy ingredients in lab and the vibrant plants in the botanical garden. It patrols like a guard dog… to keep the pups alert and on their toes!

If you’re lucky, Tsum!Crewel might drop in to help you with getting the right ingredient and amount scooped into your cauldron or vial.

Don’t get it angry, or you’re in for a world of hurt! Tsum!Crewel will leap on your head and aggressively bounce on it or tackle you until you’re down and out for the count. You’re not sure which is worse: this, or an actual lecture from the teacher!

Tsum!Crewel likes to hide in Crewel’s fur coat, much to his chagrin. He keeps fightijg with it to keep it out, but it’s stubborn and keeps diving back in, whether it’s up his sleeve or clinging from the tails. “Tch, what a troublesome mutt I have on my hands…”

Somehow, Tsum!Crewel found a toy car and hops in, attempting to drive around in it… even though the car isn’t functional! It gives Crewel the puppy dog eyes until he relents and pushes it along.

It learns a lot of basic (dog) tricks! Tsum!Crewel can sit, stay, come, roll over, shake, and tons more. Crewel praises it and gives it a wrapped candy as a reward.

Tsum!Crewel attempts to sip an adult beverage, but it loses balance and tips into the hlass. It tries to keep its cool composure, even when it is sopping wet, shivering, and dyed in wine. Crewel fishes it out and gives it a good scolding as he dry-cleans and removes the staining on Tsum!Crewel’s clothes.

It wants to try on new fashions, but there aren’t exactly many clothes that can fit it… not even doll clothes! Crewel sighs and grumps about it, but he sits down and magically sews a few outfit variants for his Tsum self. “All living things deserve to be dressed in style,” he insists, laying out the new wardrobe for Tsum!Crewel, who is ecstatic.

When he plays chess against Trein, Tsum!Crewel hope onto the board and interferes, pushing one of Crewel’s pieces with its headbutt. Together, they tag-team and manage to beat this round! Trein shakes his head disapprovingly and tells them off for cheating. To that, Crewel just grins and calls him a sore loser. (A truly skilled chess player could win in spite of the odds being stacked against them, he reasons.)

Tsum!Crewel has unexplained beef with Lucius. It stares at him from across the table, and any time Lucius makes a sudden move, Tsum!Crewel leaps, as if squaring up for a fight. (Crewel has to curb it to prevent a fight from breaking out.)

Conversely, Tsum!Crewel adores dogs. It tackles Jack with gusto and does the same when Crewel attempts to introduce it to his own pets. Its snuggles are quite aggressive—Crewel has to practically rip it from the targets of its affection.

Crewel’s beloved classic car is having issues starting up. In comes Tsum!Crewel with a wrench to help! The two replace the malfunctioning part (yay, teamwork!) and then pile in to drive off into the Foothill Town to shop.

Cruising on the open road like this, the wind weaving through his hair and one arm draped over the side of the vehicle, Crewel at last feels at peace. When he glances over to the passenger’s seat, he finds that his Tsum has dozed off. It reminds him of an energetic pup, all tuckered out after a long day of play. “… Hmph, what a very naughty boy,” he says with the shake of his head—and the slightest of smiles.

[cemeteryspider]

It's All Fun and Games

Dick Grayson/ Nightwing! x Teen Titan! Reader

Summary: Dick Grayson tries to impress the new girl on the team by winning her a prize at the carnival.

Word Count: 403 Words

After an incredibly demanding mission, Nightwing managed to persuade the team to attend the carnival in town for the weekend. Dick saw it as an opportunity to spend time with y/n without the pressure of a formal date.

Despite being a recent addition to the team, y/n felt like someone he had known forever. She was a speedster like his best friend Wally West, who was currently the Flash in Central City, while Barry was away on an extended off-planet mission.

While Y/n chatted with Raven and Starfire, who were eager to learn every detail about her, Beast Boy practically dragged Raven away to the Love Tunnel. Cyborg convinced Starfire to join him on rides, leaving Dick and Y/n alone.

As they strolled around, they reached the carnival games, catching Y/n's attention. Her eyes lit up as she pointed excitedly at a large purple raccoon stuffed animal hanging in one of the booths above the milk bottle game. Despite the obvious rigging, Dick knew what he had to do.

Once y/n left with the rest of the gang to grab a bite to eat, he set his plan into motion.

~~~

After an hour and a substantial amount of cash, Dick Grayson struggled to win the game, perplexing himself. Despite his skills in Gotham City, this seemingly simple carnival game proved challenging. Y/n returned, holding a red slushie, offering a blue one to Dick.

"Oh my gosh, can I try this one?" She asked, and with a feeble nod, she took the rings from his hand. Dick tried to downplay the difficulty of the game when suddenly, Y/n effortlessly landed all the rings onto the bottle necks, leaving only one dangling.

"Better luck next time, sweetheart," the carnie said.

In that moment, Dick Grayson launched a quarter at the ring, perfectly settling it around the neck of the bottle.

"You were saying," Y/n smirked.

"Sorry, Mam', I called it too soon." Y/n took the purple raccoon from him, and they headed back to Titan's Tower.

Once out of the carnival, she fell into step with him. "You were truly my hero back there, birdboy," she smiled, and he felt his heart melt a little.

"Ah, it was nothing," he tried to dismiss any effort.

"Still, I really appreciate it," she pecked his cheek and grabbed his hand as they walked back to Titan's Tower.

[undercovergamer]

❤️Revenge of a Raven❤️

⚠️This fic focuses mainly on tickling. Please do not read it if that upsets you.⚠️

Ittosara content by yours truly! If Sara is out of character, please let me know. I’ve never written her before-

Summary: Basically Itto and Sara are wrestling in an act of play-fighting because Itto is hyperactive and bored and Sara could use some practice.

⚠️TW/CW: non consensual tickles at first, but it doesn’t last long and boundaries are set as an important lesson.⚠️

I wanted to explore the topic and I don’t have the language to explain why (sorry).

Itto tries to tickle Sara because he wants to see her beautiful smile. But it turns out she hates being tickled and gets upset instead, resulting in *him* being on the receiving end. That’s when she finds out the punishment is meaningless since he’s having fun. In the end he apologizes and she forgives him, but continues tickling him until he’s had enough because he’s a cutie.

Word Count: 3360

It’s strange how times can change, isn’t it? That’s what Kujou Sara was thinking anyway. Who would’ve guessed she’d end up loving Arataki Itto of all yōkai? It was almost unbelieveable to her, and yet there she was, sharing a home with this lovable dork. They had been dating for some time now, starting a while after Sara had finally agreed to that street sumo match. It turned out Itto was a great partner, both in love and in sparring. Today was no different, as the energetic oni had initiated a playfight.

“This time I’ll win for sure!” Itto boasted with a confident grin on his face, playfully wrestling his badass girlfriend. He loved her to bits, which showed in his smile.

“Hmph. Don’t get too cocky.” Sara muttered with a smirk. She was usually the one winning their playfights thanks to her speed and precision.

“Just you wait! This time, I’ve got new tricks up my sleeves!” Itto taunted, looking full of mischievous.

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try.” Sara replied, challenging him.

“Oh, I will!” And try he did, managing to spin her around and hook his arms under hers in an attempt to win, holding her in place.

“Hngh…! Damn it…” she muttered, realizing he was too strong to pull away from. Well, she could probably just throw him, but this was a playfight, not a serious one.

“Heheheh! Looks like I’ve got the upper hand!” he taunted, holding her relatively tight.

“Hmph! Just you wait, I’m not surrendering yet!” Sara said with a serious tone, planning her next move.

“Well good luck getting out then, lil’ birdie~ hahahahaha!” Ugh, that teasing oni. Someone ought to shut him up to put him in his place, Sara thought. Then, she got an idea.

“Heh. You’re not the only one with tricks, oni.” Sara said with a smug smirk. The way Itto held her wasn’t too tight, and she had gained enough room from the struggle to summon her wings.

“Wha- you gonna fly? Indoors??” Itto questioned, soon realizing his fate was sealed. He’d made a crucial error of fashion choice today, as this was the wrong time to not wear a shirt.

“Not exactly~” Sara replied, quickly fluttering her feathery wings up against Itto’s torso, aiming to tickle her way out of his grip.

“Pfft~ ahahAAH!! Heh- eek! Ahahahaha!! Thahahat’s cheheheating!!” Itto protested and jumped slightly, immediately losing focus. He wasn’t expecting it to tickle so bad, giggling frantically already.

“Cheating? That’s too bad…” Sara replied, keeping up the ticklish wing flaps until the oni was weak enough to escape from. She didn’t try to break free right away though. In truth, she loved hearing that silly laughter, especially when it was confused and flustered sounding like this. Those squirms, snickers and surprised squeaks made her heart skip a beat. Who knew such a rambunctious oni could be so cute?

“Pssh~ heheheheheheh!! Stahahahahap~!” Itto whined, too stubborn to let himself lose in such an embarrassing way.

“Let me go and I might~” she teased, reaching back to tickle his neck with her fingers too, adding to the temporary torment.

“Eek!! Heheheheheh!! Gah, fihihine!!” Itto released Sara and covered himself with his arms, stepping away from those wings of hers. She turned around to face him with a mischievous smirk.

“Hmph, what’s wrong? Giving up that easily, are we?” Sara teased, wiggling her fingers towards him to tease.

“Pfft- don’t even think about it! Just wait til I- whoa!” Itto stepped back nervously, but tripped himself as he’d accidentally walked backwards into the bed and lost balance.

“Watch your six.” Sara teased with a soft laugh, dismissing her wings and taking a seat next to her boyfriend.

“Hey, c’mon! What’s so funny? You smug little-…” Itto asked, trying not to get too distracted by the smile on his girlfriend’s face. She looked so happy and carefree… so beautiful…

“Hahaha…! Looks like I win again, hm?” Sara said, smiling softly and stroked Itto’s cheek. She chuckled to herself, melting his heart. “Heh… it’s crazy how we ended up here like this, isn’t it?” she asked, admiring the oni’s rosy blush.

“Mhm… heheh, I feel like I’m the luckiest guy in the world~!” he said, pulling her down into his arms and hugging her tight.

“Hey! Haha..!” Sara let out a soft laugh, making Itto feel warm.

“I get to have the coolest, most badass girlfriend ever! All to myself~! Hahaha!” Gosh, that sweetheart…

“Pfft, let me go, you brute..!” Sara couldn’t stop smiling, lightly struggling against the other’s grip.

“Aw~ is the little birdie shy~?” Itto teased, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“Don’t call me that…” Sara muttered, still embarrassed by such a nickname.

“Why not~? It suits you…” Itto said, easing up on his tight hug and switching to a gentler snuggle. Sara sighed and let herself relax, not saying another word as she cuddled closer to the oni.

Ah, what a cozy time. The sun shining in through the blinds, softly lighting up the room as the lovers enjoyed each other’s warmth. They could stay like this for the rest of the day if they wanted to. It was so quiet and nice. Itto held Sara close, his arms wrapped around her waist and her head resting against his shoulder. It felt like heaven to snuggle up with the love of her life. Sara was still surprised by how such a boisterous oni could be so relaxed and gentle. It truly warmed her heart…

“Hmm… so, are we napping now or…?” Itto asked, keeping his voice down in case she felt sleepy.

“Hm… not yet, sweetheart… Let’s just enjoy the moment…” she replied, indeed sounding sleepy as she closed her eyes. So cute…

“Mhm…” Itto agreed, letting out a satisfied sigh as he relaxed with her. All was well and soft until Sara started to get tense.

“Ah… h-hey, d-don’t do that…”

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“Hmph… your hand…” Itto had been absentmindedly tracing her side with his nails, most likely in an attempt to do so on her back.

“Yeah…?” He didn’t notice it at first, but moved the hand to her back instead anyway. “Sorry~” Itto didn’t think much of it, keeping his tracings to Sara’s back for a relaxing sensation. The cuddles resumed in soft silence, until a surprised squeak came out of the woman.

“Eep! Itto…!” His hand had slipped down to her waist on accident.

“Huh?” That’s when it clicked. “What was that noise~?” Itto teased, amused by the sound his usually stoic girlfriend had made.

“Erm- ahem… It’s nothing, really. It-... it just felt weird.” Sara said, trying to sound serious despite her nervousness.

“Heheheh! Are you sure~?” Itto didn’t fall for her act though, giving a quick scribble to her waist.

“Eep! Don’t do that!” Sara protested, unable to keep herself from smiling.

“Whaaat? I’m not doing anything~” Itto taunted, chuckling to himself as his tracing slowly approached her side, making her tense.

“Pfft~…! I-Itto…!” Sara gritted her teeth.

“You’re ticklish? That’s so cute!” Itto said, smiling with love as he discovered this adorable trait.

“Sh-Shut it..!” Sara bit her lip, swatting at his hand in protest while trying not to laugh.

“Aw~ c’mon. Lemme see that smile!” Itto teased lovingly, poking at her sides.

“N-No, I- pfft-!” Sara covered her mouth, but didn’t stand a chance once she felt those pokes turn into scribbles. “Tickle tickle tickle~”

“Ihihittohohoho!! Gehehet awahahay!!” She couldn’t stand his teasing, pushing his hands away to prevent the tickling.

“Hehehe! Your laugh is so cute!” Itto didn’t seem to get the hint…

“Stohohop! Thihis is embarrassing!!”

“But we’re the only ones here! No one will know~ I promise I won’t tell!”

“Hahaha…! I said stop!!” Sara’s vision activated, zapping the oni and causing him to let go. “Ack- ow!! What are y-?!” She pinned him down before he could protest, glaring daggers into him before speaking up.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?!” she scolded angrily, a piercing gaze that sent shivers down Itto’s spine.

“I-I was just playing! C-Calm down..!” He stuttered, fearing the intimidating expression on his girlfriend’s face. He’d seen it before, but not like this.

“I told you to stop! I hate being tickled!” She replied, feeling betrayed by his ignorance.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t know..! I- I was just-…!” Itto trailed off as he saw the pain in her eyes. He felt the guilt in his chest upon realizing what he’d done. “I-… I’m sorry…”

Sara sighed, noticing the regret in Itto’s expression. She could tell he didn’t mean any harm, but this wasn’t the first time his excitement had overstepped a boundary. Her grip on him loosened.

“Sara…” Itto spoke up, feeling worried by the silence. “I’m really sorry… I won’t ever do that again!” To his credit, he always took said boundaries very seriously after the fact. He’d always do everything in his power to not make the same mistake again…

After another moment of silence, Sara sighed and spoke up after her mind cleared. “Hm… fine. I’ll forgive you this time.” she said, choosing to trust Itto. She gave him a friendly smile and stroked his cheek. “R-Really…? You’re not mad?” He was surprised, not expecting to have been forgiven so easily.

“Well… I’m not *as* angry anymore, but… I can’t let you off the hook just yet.” Sara said, giving him a small glare. Itto needed to be taught a lesson, and she already knew how. He gulped nervously. “W-What do you mean…?” he asked.

“Hm… well~ I think someone here deserves a punishment for being so mean earlier.” Sara said, a playful look on her face, but a menacing look in her eyes. Itto was still clueless about her intentions though. “Huh…?” He seemed a little spooked.

Sara sighed affectionately, finding his confused expression adorable as always. “Oh, relax. I’m not gonna hurt you, you silly oni. I’m just gonna give you a taste of your own medicine.” she said with a mischievous expression, lightly stroking his cheek to help him feel safer. “W-Wait, what?” Itto was now nervous instead, understanding the threat.

“Let’s see how you like it!” Sara smirked and started tickling Itto, assuming it wouldn’t harm him since they had fun with it during their playfight.

“AAH! WAHAHAHAHAIT!!” Archons, those nails… The way they scribbled across his torso tickled him like crazy already!

“Oh? You’re ticklish, huh? Predictable.” She teased, despite knowing full well already.

“Shuhuhut ihihihit-!! Ahahahahahaha!!” He’d managed to calm his laughter a bit after the initial strike, realizing it wasn’t so bad.

“Well, that’s awfully rude, isn’t it?” She purposely targeted his weaker spots, tickling all around his midriff at a faster pace. “Is that really how you should speak to your girlfriend~?”

“EEK! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHA!!” Itto threw his head back and laughed loudly, kicking his legs against the bed.

“Tickle tickle tickle~” Ah, who knew vengance was so much fun? The way Itto laughed, the way he squirmed, the way he smiled and blushed so much; it was all so precious and adorable to Sara. But, after a little more of this so-called torture, she showed mercy and stopped tickling the oni.

“See what I mean? It’s not so fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it?” She questioned, hoping to have taught him a valuable lesson.

“Ahahehe… hehe… I- heheh..! It is~, a-actually..!” Itto admitted, still smiling at Sara as he caught his breath.

“… what?” Certainly not the response she expected, but she wasn’t too surprised.

Itto blushed, feeling a little embarrassed to have admitted such a thing. “Eheh… I- uh…”

“You like getting tickled?” Of course, Sara was expecting him to be silly enough for this…

“Aha, y-yeah..! I kinda thought you did too, for some reason…” It was all making sense now. “I just… I thought it’d be fun! Y’know? I thought we could, like… bond or something, ‘n’ have fun like that, but…” Itto felt a bit embarrassed with his own logic, even though his intentions were harmless. He facepalmed before saying “Ah, I should’ve known better! I should’ve asked first at least, I-… I’m really really sorry…” He felt so stupid for not considering Sara’s feelings. What if she was still mad? What if she felt violated? What if she-?

“Itto…”

“Y-Yeah..?” His anxiety was through the roof until she spoke again, her hand on his cheek for comfort.

“It’s… it’s fine, I forgive you. Just promise me to not do it again, okay? I… I know you didn’t mean any harm.” She understood his intentions. He didn’t tickle her for his own amusement, he did it for her thinking she’d have fun. Of course it didn’t excuse his actions; it merely explained them.

“Besides, you already apologized earlier. I forgive you, okay?” Sara stroked his cheeks and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

Itto sighed with relief. “Oh, dude, I was scared for a moment there…! Eheh… thanks for forgiving me.” he said, rubbing his eyes, totally not wiping any tears that spawned from his little emotional rollercoaster.

“Hehe, it’s alright, Itto. You silly oni…” Sara found him endearing regardless, ruffling his hair a little bit as she ran her fingers through it. Their love really was powerful.

“Heh…” Itto smiled, grateful for her comfort. “I- I won’t do it again… I swear on my life.” he said, his serious tone making Sara laugh.

After a moment of fond silence between the two, Sara spoke up with a teasing tone. “So… you like tickles, huh~?”

“Ahah- eh-… w-well, I mean-.. uh…! I never say I hated it…!” Itto stuttered nervously, blushing like a cherry from the topic alone. He knew what was coming…

“Mhm.” Sara noticed some restless movements from her boyfriend, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “You want some more? I’ve got plenty of tickles left just for you~…” she teased, wiggling her fingers at him.

“Jfhhdhd…! Don’t say it like that…!” Itto hid his face in his hands, dying of embarrassment.

“Yes or no, darling…?” Sara asked with a silly voice, thoroughly enjoying the exchange.

“… y-… yes…?” Itto replied shyly, nervously peeking at her from behind his hands. Sara felt like she’d been shot by Cupid’s arrow, seeing that adorably shy expression on the otherwise “tough” oni’s face. “Tch… you adorable dork. Hold still.”

“Wha- pff- Heheheh-! ACK- GWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Itto’s laughter returned the moment Sara started tickling him again, scribbling her tickly nails all over his ribs and sides. She thought to herself, is he actually enjoying this? It was hard to believe he’d be having fun, given how unpleasant tickling could be.

She observed his expression, noticing how happy he looked. She was one to notice little details like that… the way his face and his laughter were full of joy rather than discomfort… It was both confusing and adorable to witness. She loved him so much…

“Hm~… are you alright, darling?” Sara paused her tickles to admire his flushed smile and let him catch his breath.

“Eheh… heh… huff… m-man..! Why’d you stop..?” Itto asked shyly, looking all cute and silly. Sara’s heart melted in an instant. She didn’t say anything before tickling him more, making him laugh a lot again.

“Ugh… you’re too damn cute!” She growled, having cute aggression upon him and tickling his neck.

“Pfft~!! Ehehehee~! I’m nohohohot!” Itto protested through his giggles, playfully pushing her hands away.

“You are~! Gosh I could just squish you to death~” Sara teased, pausing to kiss his cheeks before squeezing his sides rapidly.

“ACK-!! Ahahahahahahaha!! Shuhut uhuhuhuhup!!”

“Oh? Watch your tone, mister!” Sara scolded, tickling him all over his midriff again, since that whole area made him laugh more.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Itto was having so much fun, getting tickled silly by the love of his life. It was a dream he didn’t know he had coming true, and he was having the time of his life.

“Say you’re sorry!” Sara demanded playfully. It felt nice to have power over him…

“PFFT~ NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Itto shook his head, refusing to give up, but Sara stopped anyway to give him a break.

“Oh? You sure you wanna keep that attitude~?”

“Aheh… hah..! Heheh…! Whuh…?” Itto froze, eyes widening as Sara’s free hand held one of her own feathers. It must’ve fallen from her wings during their little tussle earlier. “W-Wait a sec-..! D-Don’t you dare!” he squirmed nervously, giggling as her hand inched closer. She had yet to get off of him though, so he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Say you’re sorry~” Sara teased, using the feather to target his ears, making him swear and giggle his head off. “Shihihihihit!!”

“Watch your language~” Sara teased, tickling under his chin with her other hand to tease him, switching from ear to ear with the feather.

“SHUT UP!! Pfft~ hehehehe-! Fuhuhuhahahahack!! Nahahat the ears~!!” He wasn’t expecting to be so sensitive to that damn thing. It tickled worse than anything he’d ever felt! …well, not really, probably. It was hard to tell.

“Tickle tickle tickle~ Say you’re sorry~” Sara teased in that dreadful sing-song voice, switching to tickle both of his ears at the same time, the mixed sensation driving him crazy.

“EEK!! N-Hahahahahahaha!! STAAHP!! I’m sohohorrehehEHEHEE!!” Itto squealed, reaching his limit at this point.

“Yeah, you better be!” Sara responded, her tickles slowing down and coming to a stop, her hands resting on his shoulders.

“Ahaha.. hehehe…! *hic* hahahaha..! N-No more…!” Itto stuttered, giddy with giggles as he slowly calmed down.

Sara sighed fondly, stroking the oni’s hair. “Oh, Itto… what am I going to do with you…?” She was so in love… he looked beautiful like this, all red and silly…

“Eheh… heh… *hic*…”

“Awh… you okay, baby? I’m sorry if I went too far…”

“Hehe~… I’m-… I’m okay…!” Itto managed to catch his breath fully after a while, letting himself relax knowing the game was done.

“Hm.. you look tired. Why don’t we call it quits here and take a nap?” Sara suggested, cupping Itto’s face in her hands.

“Heh~… I’d like that… you owe me a kiss though…”

“A kiss? Hm… I can do better.” Sara teased, tender love in her smile as she leaned down to kiss Itto, planting gentle and loving smooches all over his face.

“Mmf~ hehehe! Hey~!” Itto protested half-heartedly, giggling softly as he felt flustered.

“Hush, pretty boy. Your face is my canvas~” Sara teased, kissing him some more.

“Hehehe! No it’s not~!” Itto giggled as he was kissed silly, half-heartedly complaining even though he loved the attention.

“It is~ You adorable dork!” Sara gently squished his face with her hands in the name of cute aggression before her touch became gentler. As she admired his lipstick covered face, she couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Staahp…! It’s not funny~” Itto protested, giggling along with her laughter.

“Hahahaha~! Oh, you’re the cutest thing ever…” She chuckled, thinking to herself: “Gods, I wouldn’t be caught dead saying that a year ago. Time really flies.”

“You’re so mean! Heheh…!” Itto protested.

“Haha~ oh come on…” Sara rolled her eyes before she lightly moved off of Itto, reaching into her bedside table for a wet wipe. She kept a few there just in case. “Let me clean that off. Your face is a mess~” she teased, smiling at him.

“H-Heh… go ahead, princess~” Itto teased lightly, absolutely smitten by her. She gently held his chin, guiding him to tilt his head in certain ways as she wiped the kisses away. Lipstick, as the name suggests, goes on the lips, not the face like that. It’s not like such a small layer would do any harm of course, but… it couldn’t hurt to be careful.

The tender love and care didn’t stop there, though. After she was done wiping his face clean and tossing away the trash, the two switched their positions to get comfier in the bed, snuggling up to one another. Sara’s nails traced gently across Itto’s back, soothing him to sleep. The result wasn’t entirely intended, but he did need the rest regardless.

She’d totally wake him up with that feather later. Just… on his back instead so that he wouldn’t die.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Better Than Revenge

Part 4 of You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader, Past! Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Description: It's been a year since you fell in love with Jake Seresin. You'd be a fool if you didn't count yourself so incredibly lucky to know and love him. You adore Jake for everything he is and everything he tries to be for you. But you're not above proving to the world, shouting from the rooftops that Jake is the man for you. You finally get your chance while at a wedding in Italy when Bradley Bradshaw makes a nuisance of himself yet again.

Disclaimer: Female!Reader

Warnings: Sex. Sexual Themes. This chapter is mostly smut, okay?

The content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting taglist requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.I do my best to portray adult relationships in this fic. Please do not interact with this story if you feel you are not ready to read about these themes.

Word Count: 4147

A/N: Here is Part 4 of You Play Stupid Games You Win Stupid Prizes! Jake and Bitsie have been through a lot together and I love them so much! This is the scene that started this whole series. This is the scene I first dreamed of and I've been working up to it for months! I really hope you all love it!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

You’d think that a girl who’s been deployed all over the world for the US Navy and to a certain capacity travels for her job would know how to be packed and ready far sooner than right before you leave. You’d think, anyhow. It’s currently 1 pm the day of your flight and while Jake is all packed with one itty bitty rolling suitcase and his uniform and a tux in their dress bags, you’re running around like a chicken with its head cut off. At least you’ve managed to get your dress laid out in its bag with Jake’s tux and uniform. You’ve also got your shoes packed in a corner of the suitcase in their special bag. It’s everything else to pack that you have no idea what you’re bringing. Jake’s no help. Every swimsuit you try on gets the same result: hungry eyes and fingers that try to paw the suit right off. 

Finally you settle for two bikinis, one in a classic black and the other a purple shade which looks amazing against your skin, as well as two one-piece suits. You weren’t expecting Jake to like the one-piece suits more, but with their plunging necklines and high leg, he hadn’t let you go for at least half an hour. 

So, a part of your struggles in packing are Jake. The other part is how nervous you are. This will be your first time meeting Jake’s other friends, his other colleagues. You're not sure if they truly like him or not, but damned if you're not resolved to like them and make them like you. It's the only thought in your mind as you finish slotting underwear, t-shirts, shorts and sundresses into your bag. You add a few more pairs of shoes and a cardigan for if it ever gets chilly and stand back in satisfaction. 

With your bag packed, it's easy for you to collect everything else. By the time Mickey's pulled up, you're ready to go. Jake's vibrating out of his skin the entire drive to the airport. After a year of dating, a year of loving him, you think you know exactly why he's so nervous. Pilots don’t generally like flying when they’re not in the cockpit themselves. Seeing as how you’ve never flown with Jake before, you guess you’ll see when you get on the plane. Check-in and security are smooth and before long, you’re on the plane. Before the plane even takes off Jake is white knuckling the arm rests with his eyes closed. You take his hand in yours and settle in for the ride. 

Halfway through the flight, you wake up from a nap to see Jake staring broodily out of the tiny airplane window. You push up the arm rest between you.

“Darling?” Normally calling him your darling makes him grin unabashedly. Today, he’s barely responding. You press a kiss against his knuckles, staring at his star-streaked profile as the moonlight seeps into the darkened cabin.

“Jake?” You tug gently on his hand until he turns to you. 

“Sweetheart?” His voice is hoarse and deep. It sends shivers down your spine as you tug him towards you, kissing his lips gently. When you pull away, his eyes stay closed for several long beats. You examine his face, cataloging the new dark patches under his eyes. He hadn’t slept well the night before, when you were home either, and normally he loves your bed.

 “What’s going on Jake?” You cup his cheek, tugging him down until your forehead is pressed against his.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bitsie-girl.” You scrunch your nose before pecking his lips again.

“Uh-huh. Suuure.” You cuddle into his chest, drawing one of the thin, scratchy airline blankets up over his lap and yours. 

“Something’s eating at you, Jakey.” He kisses your forehead, breathing a little raggedly. “What’s going on? I thought you were excited beyond words to be Arrow’s best man?”

“I am excited for him.” He inhales deeply, tugging you in closer. "But I also don't know how I'll face him again."

"Why?" You snuggle closer to his broad chest.

His voice drops to a whisper, barely audible over the plane engines and the ambient cabin noise. "Because I'm the reason why he doesn't fly anymore. If I had been a little bit faster, I would've saved him and he wouldn't have to wear crutches to stand at the altar."

Your voice is vehement as you press a kiss over his heart. "You saved his life, Jake. You did. He wouldn't be getting married at all this week if it weren't for you. This is something to celebrate."

"Then why doesn't it feel like it, darling?" You can hear all of the emotion clogging his throat. "All of my old squadron members are going to be there. I haven't seen any of them since Arrow got sent home. What if they blame me for what I did? What if they hate me for not being fast enough? For being too cautious up in the air?"

It hurts your heart when you feel wet warmth smattering against your forehead. You just hug Jake to you tighter. You can't imagine what it's like to have to make snap decisions like that. All you can do is be there for Jake. You fall asleep like that, curled up in his arms, waking only when the flight attendants bring around the breakfast service.

Jake looks like he's feeling a little bit better, at least. He's back to being your very own ridiculous Texan puppy-dog of a man. Jake spends the remainder of the flight flirting unendingly with you and making you flush from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. There is no way you’ll ever be able to hide how he makes you feel. 

He’s still a bit off, you can tell, though his mask is near impenetrable. He smiles the same, laughs the same, but there is a part of what makes Jake, a special spark that is missing. The Hangman mask, his armor is back up. Indeed, if he were a castle, he’d have the drawbridge up and the moat filled with hungry crocodiles. When he’s in his own head like this, you know there is no way you’ll be able to get him to open up to you. You can only pray that he’ll work himself out of the funk, pray that you won’t lose him to his own intrusive thoughts.

It’s been about a week since you landed in Italy and you can’t be more in love with the experience if you tried. The food is amazing, the scenery takes your breath away and you adore waking up bare in your obscenely expensive cottage surrounded by wild roses with your boyfriend wrapped around you. Jake’s happy, it seems, so long as you are. He’s gone out of his way to make you smile this trip, but his nerves from the plane, the nerves he’s been hiding the entirety of your trip thus far, come out in full force when you’re at the wedding, specifically at the reception.

The entire function is happening in a gorgeous old villa in the countryside, with the reception taking place on the sprawling grounds. There are clusters of fragrant night-blooming roses perfuming the air with their delicate fragrance and with Jake by your side, now dressed in a perfectly fitted black tuxedo, you rather feel like Cinderella at the ball dancing with Prince Charming for the first time. 

Jake had been taciturn, his face a mockery of a smile the whole night, at least until he caught up with the groom. Arrow, Carson, as you’d learned was his given name, didn’t hold a grudge towards Jake at all. He’d hugged Jake after the ceremony and the two men had shed manly tears while you chatted with Amanda, Carson’s new wife, getting to know her.

Indeed, it seemed like none of Jake’s old squad held a grudge to him. He’d been greeted with smiles and bro-hugs all night long, slowly but surely untensing with each affectionate greeting and smiling face. In fact, he’d even danced with Mandy while Carson had swept you away in a dance later that night.

“You make him really happy, you know, Bitsie?” You smile at Carson, not minding the shuffling sway he’s got you in on the dance floor at all.

“He makes me really happy too, Carson.” You grin, seeing the way Mandy laughs, throwing her head back at what Jake says to her.

“Jake looks at you the way I look at my Mandy.” You giggle nervously at his words. 

“He does?” You’re sneaking besotted glances at Jake the entire time you talk to Carson on the dance floor.

“Yeah, he does. I haven’t seen him this happy, ever, I think, Bitsie. You bring out something special in him. Something which makes him glow in a way I’ve never seen before. You make him a better man.” You’re gaping at Carson when the song ends, pulling away from his polite grasp on your waist and hand to clap for the live band. “Take care of him, Bitsie. And thank you for getting him to come to this wedding. There was nobody else I would want to be my best man.”

You carefully hand Carson over to Amanda, not even minding when Jake gets pulled into the crowd of men around the groom as he does the garter toss. You meander your way over to the bar, and it’s as you grab a glass of Prosecco when you encounter Bradley Bradshaw again. You knew he was going to be at the wedding, so it’s not a surprise. You’d evaded him, time and again, from the moment you’d sat down on the groom’s side of the aisle. Having Jake as a six-foot-tall glaring guard dog certainly helped. So did having the insulatory presence of Amanda and her bridesmaids, all of whom were Jake’s ex-squad members’ partners and wives. The group had easily adopted you as one of their own and now you have a whole new set of girlfriends to get to know and keep up with when you’re all stateside again.

But now, as you take in the all too familiar scent of patchouli and cedar wood emanating from the man next to you, you can’t help wondering what he wants. All of your fond memories of your time with Bradley have soured. It’s like the curtains were pulled aside, letting daylight in. You finally see all of the flaws, hidden in plain sight.

“Hey, Bitsie.” He sounds oddly subdued, sad and very lonely. You’d half expected him to have Britney or Natasha on his arm tonight, but he’d come alone and stayed mostly alone the whole night through.

“Bradshaw.” You sip on your Prosecco, exuding your disinterest with everything you have. 

“Thank you, Bitsie.” At your little questioning hum, he continues. “Thank you for finding my mom’s wedding ring in that pawn shop.”

“Oh, you got the ring back?” Your tone is still light and half-disinterested. But you can’t help but feel a little rush of relief. In truth, other than the old woman at the pawn shop and her son, the only person you had told about what you did with Carole Bradshaw’s ring is Jake. He hadn’t been pleased, exactly, but he’d come around to your way of thinking after a little bit. You couldn’t in your right mind keep Bradley's mother’s wedding ring from him. The urge for revenge has long ago faded to dust.

“Yeah. A kind stranger tracked me down via the pawnshop owners. Britney,” He spits her name with disgust, “sold it to them complaining about how her ex was abusive and she was pregnant and needed money to run away from him to keep her unborn baby safe.” He chuckles mirthlessly, flagging the bartender down for another whiskey. “She then walked right into the liquor store across the street and bought a bottle of vodka which she drank right in view of the cameras.”

He’s tracing absent-minded circles on the bartop in front of him.

“How did I go so wrong, Bitsie?” He drags his hands distractedly through his curls. “I wish I’d never met her. She fucked up my entire life. I lost everything I’ve ever had because of her.”

“She single-handedly tanked my reputation, lost me my friends, and destroyed my relationship with the best girl I’ve ever known.” Now this, you weren’t expecting.

“You, Bitsie. She destroyed my relationship with you.” You're not sure how to respond. In your shock, he's even closer to you, so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath and see the glassy sheen in his eyes as he looks at you.

"I'm so sorry for that. Is there any way? Is there any way, at all, that you can forgive me? Is there any way you can give me another chance?" He's looking at you with puppy dog eyes, the brown orbs nearly glowing in the light.

"No, Bradshaw. I'm sorry. That door, that relationship between us? It's done. I've moved on. I wasn't lying when I told you all those months ago that I found somebody better. The best part is, he makes me better." Around you, the party erupts in cheers and whoops as the man who caught the garter is paraded around. To your happy surprise, it's Jake. He's grinning widely from ear to ear with the lacey garter hanging lopsidedly out of the breast pocket of his suit. His expression changes the minute he sees who you're talking to, though.

"Bradshaw." If your tone was cool, Jake's is like a glacier swept through the party. A crackling tension sets up between the two men looming on either side of you.

"Seresin." Bradley's got an evil glint in his eyes. "What's up? Afraid your girl will leave with me?" He chuckles. "Well, she picked me once. Who's to say she won't do it again?"

Jake's tense against your side. Rather than respond, you leave your glass on the counter, order a pair of shots and down both. Then you take Jake's hand and drag him out of the tent and into the garden. This is exactly why you would never even consider being with Bradley Bradshaw again. He goes from having a nice-ish moment to being a complete dick in seconds. 

You know Bradley's following you. You can hear quite clearly how he calls your name over and over. There's a maze on the grounds and you lead Jake there, pressing him into an alcove watched over by a greek-style statue of Venus. The marble is festooned in flowers and shines palely in the moonlight.

Jake's jaw is still clenched as you press him into the cool stone and kiss him like you want him to forget everything but your name. His lips are spit slicked and swollen when you pull away and his hands are hot against your waist as he paws absently at the fabric encasing you.

"What, Bitsie-girl, was that for?" He sounds wrecked already, a sizeable bulge in his pants as you drag your hand over his crotch.

"That was because I love you. You. Just you. Nobody else." You smile up at Jake, cupping his jaw in your hands, relishing in the soft pinpricks of his stubble against the pads of your fingers.

"I love you too, baby." He tries to drag you in for another kiss, but you're cognizant of eyes on your back. So, you drop to your knees in the gravel, letting your gown pool around you as you nuzzle against Jake's cock, staring coquettishly up at him through your eyelashes.

His gasp as you drag the zipper down and free his hard length is like music to your ears. Jake's length already glistens in the moonlight, the tip dribbling precum as you draw it between your cherry red lips. You struggled with blow jobs a lot in the early days of your relationship with Jake, never knowing how much suction to use or your own limits. But after a year of tutelage, you can suck Jake off in minutes now. He always feels like sin in your mouth, hard and velvety soft against your tongue.

Tonight, you're not in the mood to tease. You take him to the root, relishing the choked off gasp and how he grabs the edge of the alcove to keep from bucking into your face. You tease him, treating his cock like a popsicle, licking and sucking until he loses his control and actually begins fucking your face. You thank Venus herself for waterproof mascara as the insistent pace sets tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You know Jake's close to coming by the moans spilling out of his mouth. You glance up at him again and moan around his length as he cums. When he drags you up for a kiss, you stop him, showing off his spend coating your tongue before swallowing and parting your lips again to share how good you are.

"God, Sweetheart." Jake's voice is all drawl as he turns to cage you against the statue. "Look at you. All pretty, dressed up in a gorgeous gown with your mouth fulla my cum?"

"How did I get so lucky? How did I get you to be mine?"

You shrug cheekily in response, gasping as you feel cool stone against your bare back. Your gown gapes forward, baring your breasts to your heart's hungry gaze. You don't know when Jake unzipped you, but right now you could care less. 

Each longing glance from your boyfriend sets flames alight under your skin. You can't hide your moan when Jake mouths at your nipples. Your eyes nearly close in pleasure, but you still see Bradley Bradshaw, because who else would it be, standing just behind another statue looking right at you.

Your leg is wrapped around Jake's waist, the skirt of your dress rucked up around your waist. His hips grind his length up into you. You're just wearing panties under the dress and you wish you hadn't worn anything at all under it now. Jake's mouth is hot and wet over your peaked nipples as he leaves hickeys over the tender skin and makes you babble his name.

"My pretty Bitsie-girl. D'you want my dick, baby? D'you want it buried deep in that wet little hole?" He sucks harshly on one of your nipples, using your mewl of pleasure to bury two of his fingers into your cunt. Each thrust of his long fingers combined with the constant assault of his mouth on your tits has your head lolling, mind fogging with pleasure as you stare right into Bradley Bradshaw's eyes.

"Yes, Jakey. Yes, please. God, right there." You feel wicked and so turned on, staring into your ex boyfriend's eyes while your current boyfriend reduces you to a wet, drooling, mindless mess with his mouth and fingers. "Mm, you feel so good. Gonna come, Jakey. Don't stop! Don't stop."

You come with a scream, your back arching as you positively gush around Jake's fingers. He's grinning wickedly at you, his teeth trapping one perky nipple between them before he kisses you.

"There y'are. My wild, wild, Bitsie-girl. My sweetheart. God, you look so pretty like that, coming for me. I'm going to marry you, one day, pretty girl." You moan into the kiss he presses to your mouth, open mouthed and sloppy. "I'm gonna marry you and fuck you in your wedding dress, just like this."

Your voice is cheeky as you trace your fingers over his hard length. "Mmm… you're putting a lot of stock into your dick game, Cowboy. You haven't even fucked me yet. You gonna put your money where your mouth is?"

His groan is musical as he turns you around, pressing your bare tits into the cold marble and buries his cock in you with one swift thrust. It lifts you several inches, dragging your sensitive nipples across the marble and makes you moan so loud the sound echoes. Each thrust has you grasping the statue with shaking hands. Jake always feels so good, especially like this when he's all over you and he's all you can think about. Well, not everything. Despite your ragged breathing and the way Jake's hands and mouth are all over you, a wicked part of you hopes Bradley likes his show. 

You hope he gets the picture. You're done. You've moved on. Jake gives it to you better than he ever could. But it's a fleeting thought, quickly driven away by the cresting wave building in your gut and the way every fiber of your being is screaming for Jake. You feel all strung out, like your skin is too tight and you're shivering as a cool breeze blows over the garden. You're surrounded by the scent of Jake's cologne and hundreds if not thousands of roses blooming in the late night air.

The combination sinks into your skin, turning your arousal up a hundred-fold, making you thrust your hips back to meet his. The additional stimulation has you even closer to your second orgasm of the night, and you can hear Jake's groan in your ear, the special one that he always lets out when he's about to come himself.  You grab your skirt in one hand, rucking it up higher, and drag Jake's hands up with the other to fondle your tits.

The new angle when he reels you against his chest has your eyes crossing as every thrust hits your g-spot. You can already feel your pussy fluttering, spamming around his length as your orgasm builds and builds. You come with a scream when he pinches and tugs at your nipples, rolling them against his calloused fingers as you writhe in his arms. He follows after you with a bitten off curse shortly after.

Your face is hot and you can't help your whimper when Jake pulls away. He kisses your bare shoulder softly, murmuring, "I know, sweetheart, I know. Let's eat some cake and then you can have this cock all night, okay? My pretty Bitsie girl. My sweet slutty baby. You’re mine, Bitsie, baby. Mine."

You shudder when he settles your panties back in place, the lace quickly becoming sticky as your mixed cum drips out of you. You turn in his arms easily, kissing him until you're breathless. Jake lifts you up onto the base of the statue, grinning at your pout when the cold marble meets your hot, mostly bare ass. When he peppers kisses across your bare tits, you surreptitiously look for your voyeur. 

Surprisingly, or well, maybe not, Bradley Bradshaw is still where you saw him last. He's flushed, blushing profusely, so red he could glow like a neon sign. Did he get the message? You tug Jake closer, kissing him as you wrap your arms around his neck. Just in case Bradley didn't get the message, you flip him off with both hands behind Jake's head, soon losing yourself to the kiss.

It's about a quarter of an hour later when you walk back into the party. You'd cleaned up as best you could in one of the bathrooms, but you're sure nothing can actually hide your blissed out, well-fucked glow. Jake's not even trying to hide it. He walks up to Carson and you can't hide your giggle as all the men take one look at him and start smirking and laughing at him. The one man in the group who can't meet Jake's eyes is Bradley. He got the message, then.

You, of course, are bombarded with questions from Mandy, questions you can't help answering, all the while grinning mischievously at your new friend as she tells you she covered for Jake earlier. During her Bachelorette party a few days earlier, you'd actually told her the whole saga of Bradley and Jake and you. So she knows, and Mandy has never doubted your choice. It makes you happy to know that Jake has such good friends. 

It's not long at all before you and Jake make your exit from the party. The night, still perfumed with rose, seems filled with promise. So much so, that you can't hide your tears when Jake leads you into the small flower festooned gazebo in the garden of your rental cottage and asks you to marry him.

You say, well actually, scream "YES!", of course, and then promptly drag your fiancé into the bedroom for a 'she said yes' fuck. Bradley Bradshaw isn’t even a thought in your head. Not anymore. You can’t wait to hear what Jake says when you tell him you had an audience in the villa garden. Knowing him, you won’t be able to walk when he’s done with you.

Taglist:

✈️ @greenbaby12 ✈️ @mayhemmanaged ✈️ @desert-fern 

✈️ @roostersforevergirl ✈️ @cassiemitchell ✈️ @eli2447 

✈️ @the-romanian-is-bae ✈️ @luckyladycreator2 ✈️ @lunamoonbby 

✈️ @daphne-turner ✈️ @callsign-athena ✈️ @angeliccks ✈️ @dakotakazansky 

✈️ @daisydaisygoose ✈️ @inky-sun ✈️ @fighterpilothoe 

✈️ @pulisvertz ✈️ @wildxwidow ✈️ @angelbabyange

✈️ @chaoticassidy ✈️ @genius2050 ✈️@sarahsmi13s ✈️ @roosterforme

✈️ @lavenderbradshaw ✈️ @bobby-r2d2-floyd ✈️ @lovinglyeternal

✈️ @bradleybeachbabe ✈️

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[amberskywrites]

Just Leave A Comment Fest Stats

Thank you to @justleaveacommentfest for hosting!!!

Decided I wanted to put my stats somewhere - as well as just post all of the awesome fics I ended up reading! Seriously recommend checking some of them out, they were truly a delight, and I'm really appreciative of this event not just getting me back into commenting, but reading fics in general, as I had entered a sort of reading funk ^^

Total Comments: 31

Bingo Cards

I plan to fill these out more over time for blackout but I got bingo on two cards during this event ^^

The Fics

Here's a link to ALL the fics I read ^^

I didn't read through all the fics I wanted, but I definitely read a lot more than I have in the past like 3 months so! I'll count that as a win while working through more of the listed fics over time

Below are some fics that I HIGHLY recommend - these were my favorites to read (or reread) ^^

Forever Onward, Scion - 32 fic long Wizard101 Series

This. Series. Is. INCREDIBLE!!!! No joke, definitely within a Top 10 favorite series list of mine, perhaps even a Top 5. @oldestenemy literally changed how I interpreted events and characters in this game. I actually read most of these fics early this year, and when I say they absolutely sucked me in, I mean it. I was obsessed with oldestenemy's portrayal of the Young Wizard, as well as just all the other characters and their dynamics. I literally could not put this series down once I started, I know I very much proctastinated on lots of assignments and maybe even didn't pay attention in class just because of it. For the fest I tried to comment on as many of these fics as I could to make up for the fact that I didn't comment when I first read it - and! I had fun letting it absorb my life all over again ^^

the existence of love - 1.6k words of all the Nanatsu no Taizai emotions

I went through the whole spectrum of emotions reading this fic. And I'm gonna say it was fate that I ended up finding this fic, considering I found it by rolling dice for not one but two different bingo cards. I cannot recommend it enough! By the end I was feeling so... flabberghasted, that this fic had the audacity to take me on such a wild rollercoaster of emotions. And I had to sit for a good hour after before I could continue reading. The author captured the characterizations perfectly and managed to create a character that I could relate to but filled me with absolute rage with each word out of their mouth.

By the water - 42 words of Minecraft Diaries relaxation

It's so short, but it was incredibly relaxing to read. Genuinely, I read this right before going to bed, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of calmness and just... felt so much better. I don't normally read fics this short, but I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it!

I've Tried Everything - Painful yet beautuful Nanatsu no Taizai Melizabeth angst

Incredible. So so incredible. I really love this author's fics, but I was surprised when I discovered I hadn't read this one! So I jumped on the chance as soon as I could and I don't regret it one bit. Head's up for suicidal Meliodas, and how his cursed has affected him over the years, and beautiful angst and distrust among the Sins. It's wonderful, all of their work is wonderful (seriously, also check out But We All Bleed Red and As Long As You're Alive by them. Incredible.)

[carminecandles]

♫⋆｡ I hate myself for loving you ₊ ♪˚

prologue here

chapter one here

desc: punk!f!munson!reader and sub!Steve Harrington are not too fond of each other. However, unspoken tension becomes unbearable when stopping at a motel on a group trip, you both have no choice but to share a bed. Will you two settle your differences or find other ways to make the other shut up?

Chapter 2: like the sun and moon

(tw: toxic dynamics)

Shortly thereafter, you toss and turn in your sleep. Steve sees the look of distress on your face and reaches out, hand hovering over your shoulder, wondering if he should wake you up.

You dream about the upside down again, the memories still haunting you as they still do for all of you guys. Steve watches your body tense and trash, clearly in the grip of a nightmare.

When you yell out he immediately shakes you awake gently, so that the sudden intrusion wouldn’t startle you further. "No, no. You're dreaming, y/n. It's okay," he whispered, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms as soon as you shoot up in horror.

You tremble a little, still too disoriented to realize Steve was holding you tight against him, rubbing your back in attempt to soothe you. Soon you steady your breath, the worry slowly draining out of your body as you realize you're safe, that you all are. As you come back down to reality you pull away from Steve, as if you were suddenly remembering that you're enemies.

Steve feels a little disappointed, an emptiness filling the space where he had just held you. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, his voice low and gentle.

"Yeah…" you reply a bit too harshly to cover up the shakiness in your voice. Steve understands your defensiveness all to well, knowing that vulnerability is terrifying, especially in front of someone you're supposed to hate. He doesn't push you to talk more as you hide behind a wall a toughness.

You drag a hand across your face. Steve's concern eventually gets the better of him and he asks, "Was it the monsters or something?"

You nod slowly, avoiding his gaze. He tries to lighten the mood and says, "Hey, at least I was okay in it, right? I was probably fighting them off and being cool."

The memories of Steve protecting you guys come back, and maybe it did look kind of cool but you'd never give him the satisfaction of admitting it. "Are you forgetting your dumbass keeps getting beat to the point of near death?"

Steve feels irritated at your jab. "It's not my fault the upside down keeps trying to kill me."

"And Billy, and the Russians, and--"

"Okay, enough. Point taken, I guess. I do have a bad habit of getting my ass kicked," he says with a resigned sigh, not wanting you to push it in any further. He's been through it more times than he can probably count, and it never gets any easier.

The shift in conversation offers you relief from the horrors you just relieved, and you chuckle. "It's gonna catch up to you someday, man."

Steve shakes his head in mock annoyance, secretly glad you're back to your teasing self and not the panicked mess you were earlier. He can't help but smile at the sound of your chuckle again. "Oh come on, I always manage to survive. Like a cockroach."

"You kinda look like one too," you say, trying to deny to yourself that you actually found him attractive.

"Excuse me? Are you calling me ugly? Well, you're one to talk. You're not exactly some model yourself," he says, though it's the opposite of how he truly feels.

"At least I can admit that," you retort. Steve might be pretty, but he knows it, damnit. That's what gets on your nerves.

"Hey, I might just be the best-looking guy in Hawkins."

You roll your eyes. "'Cause Billy's dead? It's not like you have other things going for you anyway."

He scoffs. "I do!"

"Name one."

"Well, let's see. I'm pretty good at basketball, I'm a loyal friend, and I'm quite charming if I do say so myself," he says.

"You were a sh*t captain who kept Hawkins from being in the championship or winning for years."

"Not true, I was a great one!" "As for the 'friends,' you make fun of them, jerk. And charming, my ass. You probably repel women."

Steve gives up on trying to defend himself, knowing it's pointless and you'll keep going at your brutal takedown. He secretly knows you're right but it doesn't make it hurt any less to hear it said out loud. That damn smirk, he thinks. Who does she think she is to constantly want to humble me?

"Yeah, yeah, you're a real know-it-all. You always gotta be right, don't you?" he says sarcastically, annoyed by your smugness but also feels a bit of begrudging respect that you never stand down.

"Because I am always right," you say, jokingly.

Steve shakes his head in disbelief at your confidence. "You've got a real ego problem, you know that? You think everyone else are just incompetent idiots." "Not everyone, just you," you say, trying to get under his skin.

"What did I do to deserve your harsh judgment? Other than saving your ass multiple times?"

You knew that it was true, he has saved you, and you him. "So that immediately makes up for everything you did? Besides you were just tryna be a hero and all that, and I can take care of myself you know."

He almost laughs at your stubbornness. "You can take care of yourself, huh? I guess that's why you almost got mauled by those demodogs. You'd be dead right now if it wasn't for me."

"You would be too," you say. Steve won't admit it outright either. You've both saved each other's asses many times before.

"That doesn't change the fact that you're a stubborn, know-it-all who's allergic to admitting you need help sometimes."

You know there's truth to his words deep down. "And you're just a narcissistic wannabe hero who wants to show off and have people cheer for you all the time."

Steve feels a stab of anger. "And you're just a cynic who refuses to see the good in anything, always assuming the worst in people."

"I just see the truth, and I don't think you're all that. You need to be knocked down a few pegs."

"Oh really? And you think you're the one to that, huh?" "But I have been doing that," you say, thinking of how you refused to put up with his bullsh*t and called him out for his attitude since the day you met.

"I'm not just gonna roll over and take it, you know?"

"Obviously why you're insufferable."

A small smirk tugs the corner of his mouth. "Says you. You're just as insufferable, actually more so."

You huff, running out of comebacks. "You can't offend me if I don't care about your opinion anyway."

Steve finds this ridiculous and tries to rile you up further. "If you don't care about my opinion, why are you still here arguing with me at two in the morning?"

"Because you f*cking woke me up!"

"I didn't do it on purpose, you were the one thrashing around and screaming my name in your sleep."

"Not like that, damn it," you joke.

Steve smirks, knowing he pushed the right buttons. "What's the matter? Don’t like being called out on your subconscious love of me?"

"Oh you wish, Harrington," you deny quickly. "That would sure feed your ego, wouldn't it?"

He knows he hit a nerve and continues. "Come on, don't pretend. It's not like it's a secret you've got a little thing for me."

"No, sorry dude but you remain b*tchless and desperate," you say.

"Ha, you're one to talk. You're single too, in case you've forgotten. So we're both b*tchless and desperate."

"Well at least not the desperate part, if I wanted to I can get almost anyone I want." Steve chuckles at your confidence, finding it both obnoxious and attractive. "If you're so irresistible why aren’t you taken, then?"

He had a point, you thought. But you weren't looking to date at the moment. At least that's what you say to yourself. Sure, you have had casual flings lately but… something is holding you back from more. Your feelings lie elsewhere. "Well maybe I'm just not interested in anything serious."

"Figures. You just want to have your fun and move on."

"Hypocrite, much? That's what you used to do."

He remembers his past reputation for going through girls like they're disposable, knowing he can't argue with the accusation since he had his fair share of using girls for fun and moving on when he gets bored. "That's in the past okay? I'm not that guy anymore."

"Well in my eyes you still are just a heartless douche." You couldn't stand his 'King Steve' persona.

Normally Steve wouldn't give two sh*ts what people still thought of him but for some reason your opinion irritated him, and he couldn't understand why it even matters.

"And to me you're a defiant nuisance. You think you're some sort of rebel, with all that anti-conformity feminist blah blah blah."

"Shut up, you're just a mindless former jock that was obsessed with the stupid social hierarchy."

He scoffs. Did you still see him as nothing more than a brainless cog in the machine that is the high school hierarchy? It's  been long since graduation, for crying out loud. "You really think that's all I am? Some mindless jock that only cares about popularity?"

"Well yeah, you were a total d*ck like every other popular kid, and probably still are… you couldn't have changed THAT much even though you pretend," you say, still hesitant to trust him after your guys' past.

Steve feels frustrated that you don’t acknowledge he's changed, that his past actions don't define his entire character. "So I'm still a d*ck even though I went through hell and back saving the world more than once? Risking my life countless times to protect my friends and a town that hates me? You think that counts for nothing?"

You knew he had truly changed, you saw it firsthand. But you just couldn't admit to him now when you're put on the defensive. "Town that hates you? Pfft. Please, your little daddy's rich and respected, you spoiled boy."

That mention of his dad feels like a punch in the gut. "You're gonna bring him into this now? You think having a rich dad makes everything easier? You know nothing."

"I'm the town freak here. A f*cking Munson, and thanks to my cousin I get called a Satanist and trailer trash on a daily basis. You can't know what that's like." You don't mention that Steve himself even called you insults somewhere along those lines, plus the ones that hurt the most were about your sexuality, which you used to keep hidden for a reason. Even though he might be accepting now but it wasn't always the case.

Steve can't argue that he knows what it's like to be hated and ostracized by the town in the way you are. "Okay, that's different. But it doesn't mean I don't have problems too. And you seriously believe I was the same arrogant prick I was back in high school?"

"Well I wouldn't know, you're still such a pain."

A pain. That's all he is to you. He doesn't know why it hurts despite being a common insult you've thrown at him. "And you're so f*cking pleasant all the time."

You roll your eyes, knowing you can't deny it.

Steve found you infuriating, but he can't bring himself to hate you for it. He was oddly attracted to your fiery personality. "You just love being the pain in my ass don't you," he scoffs.

"I can cause another pain in your ass," you say, chuckling.

Steve pauses. You're just referring to something violent… right? "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Have you ever been pegged, Harrington?" you say, only half-joking.

Steve nearly chokes on his saliva but quickly composes himself, not letting you get the satisfaction of seeing his reaction. "What the hell kind of question is that?!"

"I was kidding," you say with a laugh, watching the pink rise in his cheeks. Secretly you want to do it, but you force the thoughts to stop distracting you.

"Yeah, yeah. Real funny," he grumbles. Steve hides his curiosity under a façade of irritation. He hadn't actually, but he wouldn't mind it being done by you.

"You still always seem to have something shoved up your ass though, except not as pleasant."

"You're the one with a stick up your ass, not me," he replies.

"Fine, fine. But I'd shove one-" "Woah, you're threatening me right now?" he says as you chuckle, his eyes narrowing. "What's so funny? You really think you can take me in a fight? You might have some muscles sure, but you're still a chick. I could pin you down in seconds."

You try to resist the urge to tell him to do it, as tempting as it was. But you smile and say, "Is that a challenge, Harrington?"

With that he lunges, unable to resist the opportunity to prove his point and wrap his arms around you, using his weight to press you onto the bed. "Since you're so eager to get your ass kicked."

Your foot connects with his side, and he grunts, feeling a stings where you hit him. "Jesus, ow! What was that for?"

He lets go of you and glares, rubbing his side. You use this moment to flip you two over, and Steve was caught off guard. You were back in the same position as earlier in the night, straddling him again. You couldn't resist shifting your hips to get comfortable and he has to back a moan. Instead he focuses on your smug grin and how you're mocking him to ignore the feel of you on him.

"You like getting your ego stroked like this, huh?" At that you put your hand over his mouth to shut him up.

He was about to protest some more but feels his cheeks warm up with the way you're dominating him, feeling both humiliated and aroused at being silenced like this. He hates how much he likes this but keeps his face expressionless so you don't know how much you're affecting him.

Steve tries to speak again but your hand muffles his words, making them unintelligible. All he can do is glare up at you, trapped beneath you. You pin him down harder, squeezing his body with your thighs. Steve lets out a muffled groan and bites your hand.

You let out a sharp gasp. "Ow!"

Steve grins and says sarcastically, "Oops, sorry about that." But he knows he's not sorry at all.

"Let me go, you're squeezing me too tight," he says.

"No," you reply firmly as he squirms.

"You can't just keep me pinned here forever, you know," he says, even though the thought of being trapped under you was turning him on a little too much, imagining what else you can do while he's like this.

Your thoughts drift to similar places and you grab the sheets, using them to tie Steve's hands together. He is shocked but also aroused by the restraints, struggling against them to no avail. The knots near his wrists are too tight and he lies helpless under you.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing…" he grumbles.

You stuff the remaining end of the sheets into his mouth and he tries to spit out the makeshift gag. "Now I can sleep in peace," you say.

Steve wants to yell at you, tell you to get off of him but he can't, and he's both frustrated and aroused by being bound and gagged like this, completely at your mercy. He feels your body press between his legs, making his mind go blank. You hold him down so you can't kick up at you and he wiggles, trying to hide his growing erection.

You shift your hips, acting as though it was just to comfortable, and Steve tries to hold back a moan, coming out as a muffled whimper through the gags. He feels vulnerable and exposed beneath you and hates how it turns him on. He's torn between wanting you to keep going and want to escape from the position you put him in. Each slight movement of your hips drives him crazy, his senses overwhelmed.

He tugs again against the restraints, feeling the fabric in his mouth getting soaked with his saliva. He looks up, eyes meeting yours and silently begging. But he feels heat shoot through him as you smirk down at him, enjoying the power you have over him and the contact as you 'accidentally' grind against him. With his wrists tied he couldn't push you off, but the situation ignites something in him.

Steve has to remind himself that he hates you, that he's supposed to be fighting this, but it gets harder to remember why. He feels a bit embarrassed at his lack of control, how you've reduced him to a helpless mess, since he's used to being the one in charge. Yet he wants you despite everything, and hates himself for enjoying this so much. He gives up fighting and accepts this position, feeling you lean in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin.

Your lips almost touch his neck, and he silently wills you to continue, but you suddenly snap out of your lustful daze and realize what is happening, pulling back.

Steve groans, looking up at you frustrated for playing with him like this, but you get off him, realizing you got way too carried away. Steve feels both relief and disappointment as you get off his body and starts struggling against the restraints against, trying to free himself and speak again so he can tell you off for what you just did to him.

You remove the gag and the untie the sheets, and Steve lets out a breath, collecting himself and rubbing his wrists a little, feeling the soreness from where the fabric dug in. He's not going to tell you that a part of him liked it and wanted you to keep him that way.

"What the hell was that?!" he says, hiding the slight hoarseness in his voice from the gag. Steve was still aroused from your little power play, making him more irritable than usual.

"I was just uh.. Shutting you up." You try to hide how much it excited you to see him bound, eyes begging… F*ck.

His pride was a little wounded by the implication that you can just shut him up whenever you want. "You can't just gag me whenever I say something you don’t like. I have a right to speak my mind, you know."

"Whatever. That was for pinning me down earlier."

"Yeah, well, you started it."

"You were provoking me and deserved it," you say.

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to gag me like that. That was a bit excessive, don't you think?"

You have to admit he's right, but maybe you just wanted to give in to your desires and have him at your mercy. It was quite arousing, honestly.

"You're enjoying this aren't you? Power going to your head, huh?" he scoffs.

"Now you’re making me sound like the jerk here," you respond.

"Oh, I'm making you sound like the jerk? Who's the one who just had me tied up and gagged like some kind of prisoner?"

You can't help the smirk that plays on your lips. "Maybe you're just more pleasant that way, without your cocky attitude."

"Cocky attitude? That's just my personality, sweetheart. Can't handle a little sass?”

"Nah, I like you better silenced," you say, not letting him know how much this is getting you.

Steve knows he should feel offended, but there's something about your assertiveness that he can't help but find hot. He tries to keep up his bravado but he's never had someone take control like this before, it was both exhilarating and infuriating.

"Oh, is that right? You like me better when I can't talk back to you, huh? So, what? You're just gonna gag me every time I piss you off now?"

You bite back, "I just might."

"And what if I fight you? What if I don't want to be silenced like that?" Secretly he feels heat in his stomach at the thought of you doing it again.

"You can try, Harrington," you say with a teasing smirk.

You keep saying my name like that and I'll make you scream it, he thinks. "Oh, I'll fight. Don't think you can just gag me whenever you want, sweetheart. I'm not some helpless puppy you can just tie up and keep quiet."

"Unfortunately," you retort.

Steve ignores the fact that he likes when you take charge. "Yeah, well, you just wait. Someday I'm gonna get you back for this, you know that, right?"

"Oh wow, I'm so scared," you say sarcastically. "Just go to sleep."

He pouts a little at your dismissive tone. "Yeah, whatever. Don't tell me what to do."

Still, Steve knows he should listen. He's tired and frustrated and lets out a sigh, laying down. You roll over and pull the crumpled up sheets over yourself. He stares at the back of your head, wanting to pull you closer but doesn't, knowing that it will just give you more power over him if you know what he wants.

Despite trying to keep a distance between you two, the bed is so small that your bodies brush against each other again. Steve ignores the way his pulse quickens, torn between maintaining his pride and wanting to press against you.

"Haven't you heard of space?" you bark.

"Like this is my fault, punk. Maybe if you stopped hogging the bed--"

"I'm not the one hogging the bed! I'm basically falling off the edge here."

"Oh, poor you. Cry me a river, princess. We're sharing a bed, which means we're going to be close. Get used to it."

"Don't you dare call me that!" you spat.

Steve grins at your irritation. "You're acting like one, all spoiled and demanding. Get over it."

You reach behind you to slap him lightly. "Hey! Watch it!" Steve yelps.

He rubs his shoulder dramatically as you roll your eyes and turn back around. The sting from the contact mixes with arousal and he lays there for a moment, trying to get a grip on his emotions and desires.

"You didn't have to slap me, you know," Steve grumbles.

"Yeah, I know. But I wanted to."

He huffs at your unapologetic response, not surprised that you've resorted to physical violence again when he gets on your nerves. "Yeah I can tell. You always gotta hit me whenever I get under your skin, do you?"

"Can you just shut up for once in your f*cking life?!" you say, exasperated.

Steve glares. "Oh, so now you're complaining about me being too loud? I can't win with you can, I? First it was too cocky, now too loud, what's next, huh?"

"God I hate you," you say.

"Well I hate you more, princess," he grumbles. Yet, deep down, there was an undeniable tension neither wanted to acknowledge.

"I told you not to call me that!" you say, frustrated.

Steve smirks at your indignation. "What, are you gonna slap me again if I call you princess? Go ahead, I dare you."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? I'm starting to think you might have a masochistic streak," you remark with a chuckle.

"Nah, I just like pissing you off. You're always mocking me, it's a wonder I haven't strangled you yet."

You roll your eyes, knowing he's probably enjoying getting a rise out of you. "Back at ya babe," you respond sarcastically.

Babe. The nickname sends a shiver through his body. Now that's a new level of mocking, he thinks, trying to keep up his annoyed façade. But it's getting harder to stay grumpy when you're being so casually infuriating.

Steve shifts a little on the bed, feeling his body press against yours even more. The sheets get twisted and tangled as they move, the fabric rubbing against his skin as he looks at the back of your head, your hair messy from sleep.

"You're really testing my patience tonight, you know that?" he says.

"You don’t think you are? I don’t know how I’m gonna put up with you till morning," you reply, your comment causing him to roll his eyes at your persistence.

"Oh, now you're acting like I'm the only one causing trouble here? You tied me up and gagged me earlier, remember? And now you're complaining about me being annoying? That's rich."

You can't help but chuckle. "Well we're stuck here together, like it or not.” And just my luck, you thought. Here with Mr. Perfect Hair.

Steve hates that you find this situation amusing. But at the same time, the sound of your laugh is kind of cute, even if it's at his expense. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You think this is so funny, don't you?"

"Well it's way too easy to get you riled up."

"Yeah, well, you just make it too easy to be annoyed with you. You're like a damn mosquito, always buzzing around and biting me."

"A mosquito really? Running out of insults?"

"Oh, come on, you know I could insult you better than that. I'm just... sleepy. And frustrated. And annoyed. So, you know, cut me some slack, princess," he grumbles.

"I thought I told you not to-" You sigh. "You’re the princess here. A big one at that too."

"Excuse me?  You're the one being dramatic, who goes around slapping and tying people up like a damn psycho. Don't try to act like you're some saint." Steve's mind replays the memory of you binding and gagging him earlier, recalling how your body felt against his while you did it. He shakes the thought away, trying to focus on his anger instead.

Eventually, he just sighs. "Look, we’re stuck here. Can we just try to get through one night without biting each other’s heads off?”

You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. “Maybe if you stopped acting like you’re better than everyone, it would be easier.”

“Better than— Are you serious?” He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual bite.

There was a moment of silence, a beat where neither of you spoke. Then, with a soft, almost resigned exhale, Steve lays back down.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said quietly. “But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to be better.”

You turned your head to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. For a moment, the facade dropped, and you saw the person beneath the bravado.

“Yeah, well… maybe I’m trying too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

The tension between you shifted, softened. You roll onto your side again, grateful Steve hadn’t made some smart remark about you finally admitting you were in the wrong too.

He shifts a little, but freezes when he feels your back against his body, the contact making his breath hitch. His mind is a mess of conflicting emotions – irritation, frustration, desire. He tries to rein in his response, telling himself that he shouldn't be feeling this way about someone who annoys him so much.

You try to move away but it only gets worse -- your ass now pressing against him, making you blush.

Steve swears under his breath as a certain part of him reacts immediately. "Christ, can you move any further back? We're practically together here."

"I'm trying, goddamnit. Want me to fall off?!"

He swallows hard as he feels you wriggling around trying to move further away, the movement only serving to grind your body against his even more.  "Just… stop moving."

You sigh and stop moving, feeling an odd sense of disappointment, kinda missing the friction. No, what the f*ck, you mentally scold yourself.

Steve's back remains pressed against the wall while you're on the edge the bed. "You done moving around now? Can you just stay still for a second?"

Now you move again just out of spite and Steve inadvertently presses himself into you in all the wrong (and right) ways.

"Get away f*ckface," you say, your harsh words a stark contrast to the way your body is pressed against his. Yet you have no intention of changing your guys's current position.

"Get away? I'm literally pinned against the wall here. Not exactly much space for me to move, in case you haven't noticed," he says, but secretly grateful.

Steve shifts to find a more comfortable position but it results in him pressing even closer into you, making you nearly gasp. He feels your breathing getting shorter and your body trembling slightly, the tension building with each passing second.

"You're shaking," he says, the words coming out more like a whisper than he intended.

"I'm… just cold," you reply. Steve smirks and shifts even closer, if it was possible.

"What are you doing?" you whisper.

"Just uh, sharing the warmth. It’s not like I want you to catch a cold."

"Then why don't you give me more of that damn blanket," you say, pulling it off of him with a smirk.

He looks down, the cold air hitting his bare skin and making him realize he has nothing on but boxers. "Jesus, you could've warned me before taking away my only cover. Now I'm freezing."

"Deal with it," you say with a subtle glance over him.

He pulls the blanket back, covering himself up. "It'd be easier if we shared the damn thing," he mutters.

You huff. "Well why are you wearing f*cking boxers in the first place?!"

Steve grumbles in frustration. "I didn't exactly plan on sharing a bed with someone tonight okay? Let alone you. It's not like I knew I had to wear my warmest pajamas just in case."

You just roll your eyes and get up to close the window.

Steve watches you as you move, his eyes drifting down your body. "You're no better. You're practically naked." "It's not like I knew either!" you say, heating up now that you're aware of his gaze. You get back into bed and pull the covers over yourself.

"Seriously? Can you give me some of the damn blanket, at least? I'm freezing my ass off here."

"I just closed the window!" you say.

"Closing the damn window doesn't magically make the room warm, you know. I'm still cold."

You ignore him and roll over, glancing at the clock. "3am already? I would've kept sleeping if you didn't wake me up."

"Hey, you’re the one screaming and flailing around with that nightmare," he says looking at you, his irritation flaring up again.

"Like that's my fault? You weren't sleeping anyway!"

"Yeah, I wasn't sleeping because you're so damn noisy. Every move you make in your sleep makes this damn bed creak, and it's keeping me awake."

"Well just shut up okay? Or I'll-" "Or what huh? You'll slap me again? Nothing you do is gonna scare me, you know."

"Whatever. We need to sleep." You roll your eyes and try to get comfortable with Steve's proximity.

"Can you stop shifting around so damn much? You're making it impossible to sleep," he says.

"You're the one that’s all up on me!"

"Hey, it's not my fault we're stuck in this damn bed together." He shifts a little, feeling the heat radiating off of your body. "F*ck, you're making this so damn hard."

You snicker. "You're the one who's hard."

He rolls his eyes, embarrassed at your observation even though he tried to hide it from you. "Shut up. It's not like I can control that."

"Well it's f*cking weird. Get it away from me."

"You think I don't know that? I can't exactly just will it away, you know."

You want to make a flirty comment about helping him out but stop yourself in time. Instead, you roll over in hopes it's better but it only makes it worse as your fronts now press together.

Steve can feel each of your breaths and it only strengthens his desire. "God this is not helping. This position is even worse than the last one."

"You think I don't know that?"

He shifts and his erection unknowingly rubs against your stomach, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. "Jesus, this is torture."

"You don't say," you grumble. Your body feels like it's on fire from being this close to him.

"Can you just... I don't know, stop breathing so heavily or something? You're making me insane," he says.

"Oh you want me to stop breathing now?"

Steve huffs. "No, smartass, I mean stop breathing so damn loudly. You sound like you just ran a marathon or something."

"I’m breathing normally, you’re just annoyed for no reason," you say in denial.

"No you're not, you're breathing like you just sprinted up a mountain or something. It's driving me crazy."

"You’re the one who keeps squirming around!" you say.

Steve heats up in embarrassment. "Well it's not exactly easy to get comfortable with you pressed up against me like this."

You try to move back a little but it just causes more friction. Steve holds back a moan by biting his lip. "Stop moving, jeez."

He realizes as you move away that you're about to slip out of the bed. "Hey, careful," he says, quickly reaching out to grab you, his hand grabbing your hip to pull you back from the edge, closer to him.

His hand on your hip makes your body react in ways you can't control. "Why do you care anyway? Thought you wanted me to sleep on the floor."

"I just don't want you falling out and cracking your head open or something, okay? It would be a pain in the ass having to call an ambulance in the middle of the night."

"Right." You roll your eyes. "Cause that would ruin your nonexistent sleep."

"It's not like it's easy to sleep when you keep tossing and turning like you're having a damn seizure or something," he replies. Steve keeps his grip firm on your hip, acutely aware of the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. He tells himself to let go but his hand somehow doesn't move. He can feel his willpower slipping away as he looks at you, your face so close he can almost count every individual lash on your eyelids.

Your pulse quickens as his hand subconsciously tightens on you, fingers slightly digging into your flesh. "What are you doing dude? I'm not falling off the bed anymore, jeez."

Steve knows he's been holding on to you way longer than necessary and snaps out of his thoughts by your voice. "Yeah, I know, I was just… making sure, okay?" He winces at how obvious he's being and lets go, seeing faint marks on your skin that his fingers left and realizing he's been gripping your hip like his life depends on it.

He feels a surge of embarrassment and guilt at unintentionally hurting you. "Sorry… I didn't mean to grip you so hard."

"Harrington apologizing? That's a first," you say, secretly wishing he hadn't let you go.

He was about to say something smartass in response but he gets distracted when he catches the way your teeth bite into your lip. Steve swallows hard, his throat suddenly feeling dry as he thinks about what it would be like to kiss you. He leans in just a fraction of an inch closer…

"Steve?"

He pulls away, the sound of his name on your lips reminding him of the fact you're supposed to be enemies. "What?" he says gruffly.

His sudden distance jolts you out of your very similar thoughts. You hate him, you tell yourself. "Nothing."

"Then shut up and go to sleep."

"I'm trying. You're the one grabbing me."

"Gee, sorry for trying to be a decent human being."

"For once," you retort sarcastically.

"Yeah well, at least I'm not some stubborn ass punk-ass chick who never shuts up and pisses me off all the goddamn time."

"Just go to sleep goddamnit," you say, filled with frustration.

"Fine. I will. It’ll be nice not having to hear your annoying voice for once," he says, rolling over, and turning his back to you. "And you better not keep moving around like a damn fish out of water."

"You're one to talk," you reply and shut your eyes.

Steve closes his eyes as well but as the minutes drag on, neither of you can sleep. His mind kept replaying the moment he'd been holding your hip. He turns and tries to remind himself of all the reasons he shouldn't be thinking about you like this -- the fights, the insults, the fact you're enemies. But he can't get his mind off of your body, the way your thighs press together as you shift around, the smooth expanse of your skin… his resolve weakened with each moment.

You sigh, realizing you could not sleep at all like this, and open your eyes, a little startled to see Steve's staring right back.

Steve feels a jolt of surprise when your eyes meet his, he hadn't realized you were awake and feels a little embarrassed to be caught staring. Still, it was impossible for him to look away.

The hint of light from between the blinds catches in Steve's brown irises and you stare at the way they reflect the moonlight. His gaze feels like a physical touch, making you shiver involuntarily.

"What are you doing?" he whispers, his heart pounding in his chest.

"What are you doing?"

"I uh… couldn't sleep."

"Me either," you say, your eyes traveling down the stretch of bare skin, seeing the dots of moles and freckles on his neck and chest that you long to taste.

"What… what are you looking at?" he says a little shakily despite trying to keep his voice steady. He can feel his muscles tense under your scrutiny.

You look away. "Nothing. Jesus, can't you put a shirt on?"

"What, is my bare chest bothering you?" he smirks, knowing you like what you see but are stubborn as usual.

"Ew, yes. Your hairy chest is gross as f*ck and you keep touching me with it."

"Oh you're so dramatic, it's not gross. You just have bad taste," he says, shifting closer so his chest brushes against yours again.

You fake gag and try to move away but Steve grabs your waist, amused by your exaggerated reaction. "Relax, it's just hair. It's not like it will bite you," he says with a chuckle. "Besides, you're gonna fall off if you keep moving back."

You don't say anything as he pulls you closer to him, his thumb rubbing small circles on the soft skin there. "You really are terrible at staying still, you know that?"

Steve squeezes your waist a little tighter, enjoying how you squirm against him. His fingers move down to edge the fabric of your shirt, slipping under to run along your stomach teasingly.

"And you talk too much, you know that?" you whisper lowly in response, pressing your hips up against his.

"Why don't you shut me up then?" he whispers against your ear.

"Is that a challenge?' You say with a smirk, not waiting for a response as you roll on top of him in one quick motion, your mouth hovering just above his. Steve's face is flushed with surprise at the sudden movement and you capture his lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

-

chapter 3 (smut warning) here

[elvisabutler]

quiet on the set ( part one )

summary: once upon a time there was a female director who happened to be a bit of a nepotism baby despite her father's known distaste for them. once upon a time there was a singer turned singing actor who just wanted to be a serious actor. this is the story of how those two people meet, kind of hate each other, make two award winning films together and fall in love along the way somehow. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t, this part at least pairing: elvis presley x original female character word count: 3159 warnings: negative self talk. the colonel. talk of nepo babies. anxiousness. mild period typical misogyny. a whole thing about how transatlantic accents are the worst. playing a bit loose and fast with history. a use of the nickname princess that will exist this entire fic. author’s note: i have had this brewing since december. i've been trying to just straight up finish it before posting but i am truly at this point the most impatient and want to share it with everyone. it's based on a post by @steph-speaks who mentioned a female director and elvis winning awards and then @headfullofpresley and @burninlovebutler got at it and then oops angst. not spoiling it but this doesn't go exactly like the post i promise. i also can't find the post but steph has known about this for a long time. beyond that, so, few things of note, alfred hitchcock's actual daughter had said that he didn't believe in nepotism but i am deciding that in the case of a daughter who wanted to follow in his footsteps, well he could make an exception. in addition, transatlantic pictures shut down after three films but for the sake of this story, i do what i want and no it didn't. beyond that, picture elvis or austin elvis, works well either way i like to think. and special thanks to christi, bee, birdie and marina. i'd tag all of y'all but you're in the taglist so it seems silly. but those four have kept this chugging along more than i'm willing to admit. also credit to marina for the moodboard.

"That's the director?" Elvis asks a bit incredulously, narrowing his eyes at his manager, Colonel Tom Parker. "The one whose daddy gets her all the movies n' scripts she'd like and they turn out kind of good? That's who they've got directing this picture?"

Wasn't that just great, he's got one last shot to make a good- an honest to God good film and he's stuck being a part of the little Princess's latest vanity film. Well, he's hopefully stuck doing it, because while the Colonel assures him that he's going to be in it, that they'll have the contract whipped up in a jiffy but- she's insisting on an audition. Imagine that, him having to audition for a film, it's mildly embarrassing is what it is. He knows- god he knows his career isn't hot, knows that even with the special he's whipping up with Binder and Bones that his career's in the toilet like Binder said. But to have him have to audition for a picture that was a remake of Brando picture? It's an insult and an embarrassment to both him and her even if he figures this is the one time he can fully guarantee he won't have to croon some set of songs that the Colonel insisted get shoehorned in.

"My boy, they asked for you specifically, something about how they wanted a true Southern man in the role this time." The Colonel tries to explain before Elvis runs his tongue over the front of his teeth in frustration.

"Ain't from New Orleans, Colonel. Hell ain't even from Louisiana. Won't sound like Stanley's supposed ta-"

"Nonsense, you don't need to be exact. Just good enough. I've got you another picture! And they're paying you more than than the others." Elvis wishes that hearing that they're willing to pay him more didn't make his ears perk up but it does. It reminds him of how his daddy was mentioning they could use a bit more cash unless he wanted to get rid of some things or some workers.

"'nough to keep everyone happy?" Elvis asks gently, worried the answer is one he's not going to want to hear. He just needs to know his- needs to know his daddy isn't going to remind him of the cash flow problems.

"And more, my boy. It'll put you back on track, hm? I'll have to talk them into some songs but her producers and Miss Hitchcock herself know my demands." A beat. "Our demands."

Elvis can feel the migraine already starting to form behind- or maybe it's around- his eyes and finds himself leaning back against the chair looking up at the sky. It's almost as if he wants to ask his mama if it's the right thing to do. This- He remembers Streetcar, remembers his Mama thinking that Brando was good- great in it but telling him it was a shame a real Southern boy didn't get the part. Now that he's been in the movie business he understands why, understands that making a man from Nebraska talk like it is easier than letting a Southern man do it but find himself without a job because he can't shake how he sounds in a way that makes people- all those who like that accent they call Transatlantic- uncomfortable. Like sounding faintly hoity toity didn't make most people feel dumb as a bag of rocks and feel like Hollywood might be making fun of them. He might have lost his accent a little- consequence of being in California, he figures, he still knows he sounds a hell of a lot closer to Stanley than Brando did.

"Ya- Ya know I don't gotta record anythin' for this. This- this ain't a film that you can put 'em in. People- People won't be expecting that with me playin' him." He manages to avoid the natural infection he wants to add to the end of that sentence. Manages to avoid turning it into a question because he's not entirely sure. His pictures aren't doing as well and he's bored out of his goddamn mind with them, but is it because of the songs or is it because of him?

"That's what will make it different." The Colonel says with a smile that makes Elvis bite the inside of his mouth just a little in frustration. He wants to fight, to argue right now but it's not worth it to even try so he nods slowly earning an even larger smile. "I'll iron out the details. You just- knock her socks off, hm?"

A sigh leaves Elvis's mouth as he nods. He can feel the dreams he had for this film starting to crumble in his mind. The vision's already there, instead of screaming- shouting- bellowing Stella's name, he'll be singing it. Singing about how he needs her and how he's a fool. The same old song and goddamn dance for him to do so people can maybe buy tickets. Maybe see him in something they'll think is a departure from everything but is just more of the same bullshit masquerading as fun entertainment. Mr. Williams- Tennessee's gonna be mortified he let the Princess touch his film and cast him, gonna be mortified a fellow Southern man did his work so dirty. He can faintly hear The Colonel talking but the words honestly don't matter to him any more, washing over him like as if they're nonsense or a different language. Elvis stops nodding and giving appropriate hums after a while and finally was left in blissful silence to contemplate what exactly he had agreed to.

The day of the audition it's raining which Elvis thinks he should have taken as a sign from God that something was going to happen. What that particular thing would be he couldn't know but rain like this when the day before it had been sunny and bright? Hell, when earlier in the day it had been. The umbrella he had kept most of the water from drenching him but it was a near miss as he entered the building. Now, he knows very well where he's supposed to be, he had been told the room, had it written down on a piece of paper, everything, but here he was with a brain feeling half waterlogged and a piece of paper with smudged ink he couldn't read any more.

Well, he could read part of it. Something with the number eight in it assuming that wasn't just the ink smudging to make a zero turn into the eight. It shouldn't be that much of a problem, he doesn't know Warner Bros lots and buildings as well as he should but it's not like there should be that much of a difference between places- between studios. It should be easy enough to find, just look for all the places that had an eight attached to them and he's got to find her in one of them. He just hoped she wasn't a stickler for being on time given the circumstances. Hell, it's not as if this sort of thing was something he prepared for and planned to get caught having a problem with. Then again, maybe he'd get lucky, have a nice third time's the charm moment with rooms he tries.

Eighth time was the charm is what it was beginning to look like. How one place could have so many things that had things involving the number eight he has no idea. He looks at his watch and frowns, he's now almost thirty minutes late and what does he have to show for it? He still hasn't found her or anyone who's been able to even direct him to her. There's a part of him that's about to throw in the towel in sheer aggravation when he opens the door to reveal a woman just a few years younger than him looking so composed and polite he'd have thought he was looking at Princess Grace Kelly herself. Her brunette hair was pulled into a tight bun that somehow didn't make her look too harsh and instead seemed more practical than anything else. His eyes scanned her form starting with heels that he imagined gave her height but also served to lengthen her legs, not that he thinks she needed it, not that much at least. The longer he stares the more he swears she seems familiar but perhaps that feeling is just from the fact that she's another human being who looks like she just might be able to tell him what he needs to know. That she looks- reasonably attractive and has his eyes settling on her ample hips for just a hair longer than he should doesn't mean anything. Elvis manages to take a deep breathe before strolling in like he owns the place and stopping right in front of the woman in the room, completely ignoring the camera that is in the room.

"Thank God, someone who might be able to help- 'm supposed to be goin' to an audition. I know, having me audition for somethin', right? But I'm supposed to be auditionin' for Ms. Hitchcock and I can't find the room she wanted me t'have me do it in. And now I'm runnin' just a bit late and I figure she's gonna have a fit 'bout it." Elvis realizes he's mildly rambling and finds himself pretty thankful that by the grace of God he isn't stuttering from the nerves he feels in relation to this audition. The more he looked into it the more he realized she's a tough sell and is known for- bringing things out of her performers that make him excited- even if he's still so apprehensive- to maybe work with her. His eyes fllt to the camera, finally deciding to take his eyes off of her and her disapproving gaze. "Why are you in here with a camera by yourself?"

Her lips curl into a wry smile before she purses her lips and just lets out a slow exhale. "Imagine Mr. Presley having to audition for Ms. Hitchcock. I know who you are, Mr. Presley. But I take it you have no idea who I am. After all, I don't appear to be having- oh how did you put it- a fit about you being late. I did see the weather outside. Nasty bit for California if I'm being honest." She pauses and looks at him like she's peering into his soul before standing up and walking to him, holding out her hand when she finally reaches him. "Catherine Hitchcock, the reason you're having to audition."

Elvis is entirely aware that if he had a mirror in front of him he would get to witness his life flashing before his eyes and see the color drain from his face. He had just- She had just let him go on and embarrass himself. Formality or not, this was not how he needed to have things start out with him and her, especially since he's been practicing over and over and he wants this to work, wants to earn his place in this film. The Colonel may think it's a done deal but he doesn't think so and the more he looks at Catherine the more he thinks he's right. This would be the perfect excuse to keep him away from this film. He's not punctual, he's insulting, he's-

"Why, so you can tell me I'm too Southern for a picture that takes place in New Orleans?" The words slip out before he has a chance to stop them, his brain deciding he needs to defend himself from what slight it feels she committed against him. "Been told it's a formality, Ms. Hitchcock. They tell me wrong?"

Catherine tilts her head just so in a way that's infuriating to Elvis. She's studying him like he's beneath her, like he's some bug she's found in the dirt and is inspecting to see if she wants to keep. "I don't need a singing actor. They told you wrong, this is a serious audition and one I'm beginning to doubt you-"

"Prepared for?" He finishes her sentence with a huff of a laugh, shaking his head as he backs up a little. "Nice to know you're every bit the princess I figured ya were. Can't handle other people gettin' in on-"

"Mr. Presley." She warns as she moves back to her table and shuffles some papers before sitting back down. "I don't- you are thirty minutes late, we don't have time to- I need you to focus. We're busy people, are we not?"

His eyes slide down her form once more, noting how her relatively ample chest is heaving just slightly in frustration as she looks at him and he wrenches his eyes from the view as he nods. "Considerin' I gotta head to talk t'some more people, I'd say yeah. From the top, then?"

Catherine nods, moving to fiddle with the camera in order to attempt to tape this audition. "Yes, Mr. Presley, from the top."

What transpires next is the longest three hours of Elvis's life. He's heard about English women, sophisticated women being hard to crack, heard about them being hard to get a read on but if there's one thing he knows, it's how to read someone- how to read women specifically. Even though he had been such a nervous boy and young man, he knew how to charm them nowadays. Knows the ins and outs of their faces and how he knows that he's pleased 'em. But Catherine is blank, she's blank and silent. All the other directors had mentioned things he might need to change when between takes or between different lines. Yet here she was leaving him to drown in uncertainty. Leaving him to drown without offering a life preserver to tell him he's doing good, to tell him she likes how he's approaching things. He's pretty sure he'd take her telling him he's atrocious versus this silence. Is this how people feel working with her father? Is this why- no Elvis can't dwell on it, can't dwell on the possibility that Little Miss Princess Hitchcock is going to be cruel enough to tease him with a part only to deny him it. Elvis starts to open his mouth to begin again before Catherine holds up her hand and shakes her head.

"I've seen enough, Mr. Presley. Heard enough of your voice for today, I'm afraid." Her tone sounds bored, he thinks, but maybe that's just how she sounds in general, maybe that's not a true sign of her dislike or enjoyment of his performance. He wishes he was able to read off of whoever's playing Blanche, oh he knows he could have shined better. Shown off how good he is playing off of other humans and not a wall of silence other than required lines. He runs his tongue across the front of teeth before his lips twist into a frown of sorts.

"That it then? Ya done wit' me?" Elvis asks and there's a small part of him that knows he means it a multitude of ways and not just if she's done with him today. Catherine's response startles him when she nods with a certainty that has his stomach dropping to the floor.

"I'll be in touch if you got it, Mr. Presley. After all, I never did say it was a guarantee. To you or to Colonel Parker. If he told you any different, that is entirely his fault." Her body easily moves to stand up and starts to grab the roll of film. "Your voice suits him well enough, though, I suppose. If you can shake any lingering California traces."

"I don't have any-" Elvis starts before he hears the tap-tap-tap of her heels against the floor and feels her finger on his lips.

"You do. Now, if you excuse me, do go and handle your business that I've kept you from, I'd hate to be known as someone who caused you problems like that." She pauses, and turns around, leaving Elvis to stare at her backside and the way her high waisted pants are somehow perfectly tailored to her body and- he was not going to dwell on that.

Words and defenses that are on his lips died as soon as he felt her finger against his lip so he nods and gives her the largest and most sincere smile he can manage. "'Course. Have a good day, Ms. Hitchcock. Lookin' forward t'workin' wit' ya. If ya go with me."

There, that's what he needed to do, to plant a seed so she'd know he was serious about this job, that he was serious about wanting this for so long and no one wants to give him a chance to prove himself. This time he could do it though, this time he wanted to do it and this time he wants to hear some form of praise coming from her mouth. He leaves the room as he hears her sigh and hears a small creaking noise from the chair.

Waiting for Catherine to call him involves days that feel like blurs and yet feel like they never end at the same time. Nothing to the Colonel, nothing to him, not even her calling to tell him that he was the worst actor she had ever come in contact with. Two whole weeks of being on edge waiting for some knowledge only to be let down every single day. It's the 8th of the month now and he hears the phone ring and Elvis swears he's never moved so fast as he has from the front door of his house to the nearest phone. Catherine's voice rings out through the phone and Elvis finds that he's holding his breath.

"Stanley Kowalski?" She asks and Elvis feels the breath he was holding rushes out of his mouth in a flash. "I'm teasing, Mr. Presley. But, I'm formerly telling you that you've- With you I do believe I found my Stanley. If you're willing to-"

"Ms. Hitchcock I'm willin' t'do anythin' to do him justice. Know I'm not Brando- but- you won't regret this and I'll- I'll rein in the Colonel, won't have him addin' songs." Elvis cuts her off and he hears what he swears is a small smile in her voice before she shushes him.

"I'll believe it when I see it, Mr. Presley. Don't be late for the first day of shooting, hm. Come rain or shine." Catherine's voice almost sounds like she's teasing but Elvis can't tell. It's probably what influences his response more than anything else.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Princess." He responds before hanging up the phone.

It's only afterward when he's laying in bed that he realizes that quick hang up might have been a mistake. Even if she is a little princess, he probably shouldn't have called her that like he did.

"Shit."

taglist: @blurredcolour, @ab4eva, @precious-little-scoundrel, @butlersxbirdy, @thatbanditqueen, @eliseinmemphis, @powerofelvis, @prompted-wordsmith, @mooodyblue, whoever wants to be tagged for this fic, just leave a comment, alright?

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

Hello!!! I just wanted to say I really like the fire emblem stuff you write!!! Truly doing gods work by giving us tiny bits of food 🥺

May I request some friends to lovers style headcannons with Seliph and the Summoner? I picture them bonding over there shared circumstances of being on a pedestal

i know you said hcs but i've got a lil scenario here for you

Seliph tries his best. He might not be as skilled or as confident as some of the other heroes, but he's always determined to ensure no harm befalls you. But he does wonder, why you picked him. "I must confess to you Summoner, I'm not sure I understand why you continue to take me into battle with you." You seem confused by his words but he continues nonetheless. "There are so many great warriors among your army that better fit the title of hero. I feel as though I don't even come close to that label."

"I wouldn't be able to tell the difference, frankly." You pause, a frown forming on your features before continuing. "I don't know anything about war, I never have. I came from a world that was well and truly in peace times. A world where I was just a normal person living from day to day." And at your confession, Seliph is stunned. He knew you were from a different world, it's what many bring up when they sing your praise. Summoner, the great tactician from another world, almost destined to win Askr's wars for them. But no one mentions what your world was like.

"My apologies, I wasn't aware what your world was like." Your frown eases into a sympathetic smile.

"Not many people do. It's a bit hard to tell people that when they place all their hopes on your shoulders." He nods in understanding. He's been in a similar position more times then he can count, and even here, he still feels as though he's living behind an ideal of himself.

"There isn't quite a struggle out there like attempting to be yourself to people who have managed to convince themselves what you already are."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"Even now people here look at me so strangely, speak of me so highly. I have yet to do anything so praise worthy. I wonder if you feel similarly?" You nod at his question. And it troubles him, knowing that there isn't much he can do to help. "If you require someone to share your woes with, I am here." It feels like a trivial consolation, but your expression seems to brighten at his offer.

"Thank you, Seliph." There's a brief silence, before you speak again. "For what it's worth, in my eyes you're a hero and that's why I'll always depend on you." And at that he feels his own expression brighten, the smile that appears on his lips impossible to fight back.

"...thank you, Summoner."

Even if he isn't the strongest, or the most skilled. For as long as you depend on him, he'll do his best to protect you. And in the end that's all you ever ask of him.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

Masterpost / AO3

14.

Another fucking draw. At least they’d actually scored in this one (Obisanya 26, Tartt 74), but what good was that when they let the other team net the ball just as many times? Jamie stared morosely at his Lynx collection, trying to muster the energy to change out of his kit. He was sweaty, his hair was a mess, and his side ached dully from a nasty tackle near the final whistle; taking a shower would be heaven. But he was too tired to move.

It wasn’t so much the game that left him exhausted, even though it sure took its physical toll. The past ten days had been a mad flurry of setting up surprise after surprise for Roy, and that had involved more gift hunting, eavesdropping and secret sneaking around than Jamie had ever thought he’d get up to. Between that and football and team Christmas bonding there’d barely been time for sleeping and eating.

And after all that, he still hadn’t called Mummy. He’d tried to, every single night, but he just. couldn’t. do. it. Apparently his efforts still weren’t up to scratch, which was baffling, to be honest: how fucking sad was Roy that not even the truly fanastic stuff Jamie had pulled for him had made him happy? Christmas was only days away, and Jamie was running out of both ideas and time. Could he get Sade to actually write Roy a song… ? Might be too much, though, even if he managed to figure out how to sort it. It’d give the bugger a heart attack or something, and that would make Keeley sad and probably not count as him doing a nice thing, even if it’d be dead unfair of the universe to blame him for Roy being a frail old man.

Perhaps he could invite Dani out for another brainstorming session; it had worked a treat last time. Jamie was pretty sure that Roy had appreciated his gifts and gestures, from what peeks he’d managed to sneak of the man. Just not appreciated them enough, apparently.

It also seemed like maybe Roy was getting a tiny bit suspicious. Yesterday, he’d kept turning his head every this way and that, and sometimes stopping dead in the street and whirling around, looking a little wild-eyed. At one point Jamie had had to dive behind a couple of large rubbish bins to avoid detection. That was a pair of perfectly ripped trousers he’d never wear again.

Fuck, but he wished that—

“Jamie, are you feeling well?”

Jamie turned to look at Sam, who had stopped by his cubby, already changed and with a concerned pinch to his kind face. He looked just slightly, slightly hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if his question would yield an answer or something sharp and snide. Jamie made an effort to smile. “Yeah, bruv, I’m sound. Just, you know, tired of not winning.

“It is disappointing. But, thanks to you it was a draw instead of a loss. And it was a very nice goal too.”

At the praise, Jamie felt his smile grow easier, more sincere. It had been a very nice goal, hadn’t it? Good of Sam to notice. 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks mate. And yours were great too, you know?” he added, remembering what Dr. Sharon had said about how acknowledging other people’s accomplishments did not diminsh Jamie’s own.

The way Sam’s lips curled into a wide grin, mirroring Jamie’s own, and the way the sight of it made Jamie feel warm had him thinking she was onto something there.

“Thanks, Jamie,” Sam said simply, and gave him a friendly nod before walking back to his own cubby.

Still smiling, Jamie finally began to undress.

---

Once he was showered and changed and Ted had somehow talked them all into feeling determined and hopeful rather than dejected, Jamie hefted his bag and headed for the door. On his way out he passed by Keeley and Rebecca Welton, offering a smile to the former and a polite nod to the latter.

Keeley lit up when she saw him (and fuck, but that still did things to him, didn’t it?). “Hi, Jamie,” she said. “Listen, I was wondering if you could stop by my place tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about some new tweaks to your brand, now that you’re playing again?”

Jamie perked right up at that. Talking to Keeley and discussing his brand? Fucking brilliant. Much better than spending another day trying to figure out what would possible make Roy Kent happy enough to appease the universe into letting Jamie call his mum.

He’d been working hard. He deserved a little break. Besides, hanging out with Keeley at her place might well yield some new Roy related ideas.

“Yeah, mint, yeah,” he said. Then a thought occurred to him and he frowned. “Or, actually, no, I can’t. The team’s doing a day trip Winchester Christmas Market after our recovery sessions. Sorry.”

He was, too. As much as he was growing to appreciate the lads and was looking forward to the trip, he’d rather spend some time with Keeley (and his brand was in sore need of some brushing up, ‘cause people were still being cunts and hung up about him walking out on City and Amy and stupid shit like that).

“Oh.” Keeley looked disappointed, which cheered him a little. “Tuesday?” she suggested.

��Sure, yeah. I mean, I’ve got training, but I could drop by after? Unless you wanna… “ He nodded towards her closed office door.

“No! I mean… No. There’s been… there’s an issue with the ventilation, yeah, it smells awful in there. Like dying animals and farts and baby vomit. Blegh. You don’t wanna go in there.”

Uh, yeah, no thank you, he sure as hell did not. Jamie made a face. “Yeah, all right,” he said. “I’ll just come by yours then?”

She nodded, looking relieved. “Great! Thank you, Jamie!”

“You’re all right.” He gave her another smile, Rebecca another nod (and noted that she for some reason seemed like she was struggling not to either roll her eyers or laugh, which was kind of rude, considering how hard Keeley worked for her and all, and she really should get Keeley’s office sorted), before heading out to his car.

So. Fun trip with the boys tomorrow – maybe he’d find something nice for Mummy and for Roy at the Christmas market – and then hanging out with Keeley the day after. So-so playing and his mummy issues aside, life wasn't so bad.

[the-obiwan-for-me]

Hi I’m here to scream about Bo-Katan because the parallel between her taking the darksaber in Guns for Hire and Heroes of Mandalore TOOK ME OUT. I’m all the way in my feels for this girl she DESERVES this but you know that even as she takes that blade, looking like she doesn’t have a single doubt or regret anywhere in her mind, that she’s feeling so many conflicting emotions about that blade and what it means to take on this role again.

Ugh it hurts so much to see her doing this I’m not gonna lie, like on one hand it’s awesome and she SHOULD be the one to reunite Mandalore, she deserves it, but in the other hand she’s already tried and failed so many times and to see her step into this role yet again, knowing that she’s risking breaking her heart and losing what little she has all over again, all because she wants her people to be strong and prosperous again, makes me want to fucking sob like Jesus Christ someone give her a hug and a stiff drink lord knows she needs one.

While I want that damn sword yeeted into a volcano, it was nice to see her get it (mostly because she's soooooo much more badass with it than Din). I didn't love the round about way she got it back, though kudos to Din for figuring out (but, dude, you JUST thought of that?). But she's getting more and more thrusted back into a leadership role, and I honestly think she's just tired.

And, one point I'd like to make is that while I am SURE Bo thinks she failed as a leader, I don't think that's fair for her or us to think. She DID manage to get Mandalore's shit whipped back into shape after Maul (if people nearly 20 years on still consider her the rightful ruler, according to Fenn). That's hardly a failure.

But after that, she was up against the Empire. And we all know how terrible the Empire is. Even to planets and people who didn't resist their occupation, they were still cruel. And to people who fought back?

Well, it's little wonder Mandalore got glassed. If the Death Star hadn't been blasted (not really sure where in the timeline the glassing occurred, but I assume it was after at least the first), I don't think there would be an actual planet left to reclaim. They just nuked it, instead.

Fighting and losing against the Empire isn't failure. It is an actual fact of life in that era of the GFFA. The Empire used fear and MASSIVE weapons to rule, and it would have been nearly impossible to truly win. Yeah, Bo helped beat the Empire back, out of Sundari at least, but I think that ultimately made them come back even harder, and I hate that she counts these things as failure.

All that being said, I think she rather sink into the ground than lead again. And I don't trust the Armorer. But here she is, her new bestie Din backing her, and it's time to lead these hellraisers....again.

That was a ramble!

[astorythatwritesitself]

Shepard AMA Round 4

Even better this time because I've found a keyboard to use with my phone :D As usual, using @spookyvalentine 's list of questions! (Note: A few were answered already & just cut and pasted lol)

Round 1

Round 3

1. When was the last time Shepard cried? - Just after Thane's death. This is another one that may get a full drabble treatment, but the gist of it is: goes to pray because she's taken a lot of hits recently, seeing her husband killed (and because of my developing thoughts on Kepral's and all, his health had probably been improving or at least moderating)? She barely keeps composure in the hospital and by the time she's there to talk to... like her patron goddess at this point, she can get in like three words before just. Completely breaking. Like- she's definitely shed plenty of tears, but usually managed to keep it relatively contained and quiet; this is full on finally raging at the situation she's been herded into and truly swallowed by grief and despair for a little bit.

But there's work to be done, so once she's cried out the worst of it, she picks herself up and gets back to the Normandy. No, she's not fine- but everyone's losing loved ones right now. Hers isn't more special, and she can help prevent there being more.

2. First impression of Miranda—and does it change? - Dangerous. Very, very dangerous and might sell you to satan for one corn chip. While the impression of dangerous doesn't fade, she does come to to respect Miranda's bluntness, and is delighted to count her among 'loyal ally' once Miri gives her resignation on the Collector base.

3. The game Shepard will always win: - She's got some exceptional balance and flexibility that make her a Twister champ.

4. Do they like living on a ship? -It's made up the bulk of her life, disliking it was never really a choice lol. She definitely enjoys it though, it's nice that there's always others around. Even in an apartment situation, she'd find anything else unsettlingly lonely for a while.

5. What skills come naturally to them? - Cooperation and diplomacy, she has a very strong, inherent sense of fairness that is damn near impossible to turn off.

6. What abilities have they worked hard to hone? - All her combat skills, particularly her sniping and biotics. The biotics are an extra point of pride towards the end, since she pretty much had to relearn using them from scratch after being brought back. Also, her language skills, you don't give a debate speech in turian dialect as a kid for nothing!

7. The very first time they killed someone: - At about twenty, and it's not a particularly dramatic story. She was fresh and on a small mission to bolster protection of a colony that had been facing batarian raids. She was positioned high up and far, and did her share of picking off slavers as they came along.

8. Shepard walks into a bakery. What do they order? oh my god I forgot this one

Big slice of black forest cake.

9. How did they feel about being promoted to Spectre? Hollow. Like- Adrian knew, logically, she ought to be overjoyed, this was the pipe dream her parents had had in mind for her, the long shot that was never going to happen but she'd kind of been prepared for just in case. It meant the world to Anderson. It meant so much for humanity. It was a magnificent step in how she could serve the galaxy. She tried to rationalize it as shock, but even to her dying day, she could only muster up empty indifference to that moment.

10. Favorite drinking buddy and why: - Wrex. 1- he can keep up even after the cybernetics. 2- he always stayed pretty calm and had the best stories. (Thane's probably second, even though neither of them go hard- she just very much enjoys barside flirting with him.)

11. What does Samara think of Shepard? - Fairly respectful. Admires Shepard's aim to preserve peace but willingness to fight should the situation call for it, but also finds her a little... overly attached and sentimental, as it were.

12. Where do their thoughts linger? The past, present, or future? - Present, mostly. She doesn't like dwelling on the past, and while she thinks of the future... well, she always dealt with a serious sense of forshortened future, even before dying the first time. Best just to focus on the here and now.

13. It’s Shepard’s turn to cook. What’s on the menu? How does it go? - Cold sandwiches and that's if you're lucky. She's fucked up MREs, over or undercooks meat, and just never nailed timing and often winds up burning things, and once managed to start a fire in the pursuit of sauted onions. (That said, especially being a biotic, she has like 5 varieties of candy and protein bars on her person at any given time. Can't cook, but her squad can always count on having snacks during a mission!)

14. Describe Shepard’s funeral:

Which one?

Her first death was a decent but overall average affair- widely recognized, several speeches from Alliance brass, her parents, Anderson, even some words from the asari Councilor. Some from the Normandy crew, of course. But it comes and goes in a couple of hours, that's about it.

After the battle of London?

The Normandy crew hold one after the crash, even though the ship needs repairs. It won't be confirmed for a while, but they know Shepard's gone, Chakwas has a bottle of brandy and they've got time, now.

There are countless smaller memorial services held throughout the galaxy over the following year, and Shepard is mentioned but not singled out in many- one for lost Alliance soldiers, one for casualties of the Citadel, for casualties of the Reaper war in general, for Spectres killed in action. The dedicated service isn't until the following April 11th.

Shepard had stipulated, that should she be KIA and no remains could be recovered, just make it a celebration of life, no symbolic burial or anything (If there were remains: cremation & scatter at sea. No body this time.) 'Talk, get Ash to read something if you can. Whatever gives everyone closure, I'm not planning on hanging around.'

She hadn't been slacking in helping people before her first death, but her undertakings throughout 2 & 3 see an outpouring of people from across the Milky Way whose lives she directly impacted, there's a solid couple hours for open talk before the prepared speeches start to account for this.

Hannah and Adrian Shepard try to give a second eulogy for their child, and it's painfully apparent that while never outright estranged, there was a rift that never did properly mend.

All the Normandy survivors say something or another. Wrex is the only one who doesn't start straight up crying in some fashion. Garrus can't make it through, and Joker just passed up speaking entirely. Ashley is the last, and ends the event around twilight with a reading of The Old Astronomer.

15. What draws Morinth to Shepard? - Novelty. First human spectre, back from the dead, so notoriously... nice; drawing in and corrupting Shepard would be delicious.  

16. How well does Shepard know Kai Leng? - Not at all. 

17. During a mission, Shepard breaks an arm. Badly. How do they handle it? - That's the risk you take on the field. She doesn't like it by any means, but she'll get it set as best as possible, carry on, and wonder if this will be the new most bullshit thing Chakwas has had to fix on her. (It isn't- that honor still goes to 'being doused head to toe in thresher maw acid and still not coming back to the ship for 4 hours')

18. Three rumors about Shepard:

- Paid off by aliens to sabotage human interests.

- Relies on bribery and threats, her charisma is just Alliance propoganda to get the wider community to accept such a high-profile human.

- A small but very dedicated one: Is the unnamed photographer behind a number of landscape photos that have appeared in Fornax over the last 7 years, as some of them are very hard to access unless you're military or similar, and how the fuck else did Fornax get images of Ilos before anywhere else?! 

19. Table manners? - Flawless when they have to be, decorum was definitely among her lessons growing up. But on an ordinary day... eh. Not a slob, but she will definitely talk with her mouth partially full.

20. What was their first reaction to seeing their glowing scars in 2? - Very fucking unnerved. Of everything that's happened to her, that's probably what gave her the most pause, and she was /very/ glad to see them fade.

21. Why did Nihlus choose to nominate Shepard as a Spectre candidate? - She was pushed on him, really. He was wary about human candidates, considering Anderson's failure, but the Alliance never eased up. Combined with Shepard's history and closeness with Anderson, he felt he'd at least give a token trial. Either she failed and he could at least say he tried, or she surprised them and the Spectres got a solid new addition. Nothing could possibly go wrong with that plan, right?

22. Describe their posture: Most of the time- tall and confident- shoulders back, head up, alert and attentive. Often rigid, even when she's supposedly 'relaxing', ready to go at a moment's notice. (Thane's the only one who's really seen Adrian truly 'down'- she tends to slump and curl into herself a bit and rely on whatever's nearby for support- chair, desk, him, the wall...)

23. Was Shepard born to lead, or was command hoisted upon them? - Yes. With Adrian being a Spacer/Sole Survivor, it's very much a 'yes to both' sort of deal. Her family has longstanding military service, and in my timeline, her parents both served in the Relay 314 incident/First Contact War, her father in particular gaining some notoriety, and her parents definitely pushed for their child to be an absolute pinnacle of humanity. They never thought Spectre was actually a possibility, but they damn well ensured she'd be a good candidate anyway.

She rarely specifically sought out leadership, though- but that wound up being part of why she so often wound up in charge of things. She was competent but not overbearing, good at mediating but kept things in line once a decision was made, and didn't act like she was entitled to boss anyone around. She just gets shit done and people tended to flock to that.

24. Do they fall in love easily? - Define love lol.

Ok for romantic love, no- Adrian would defined herself along the lines 'aromantic until proven otherwise' if pressed for specifics; Thane really took her by surprise. (But under other/broader definitions, oh yes. She loves freely and frequently, even if she never puts it into so many words. Really excited to answer the love languages question in the other set xD)

25. Does Shepard dream of the starchild, or does it take a different form? - So I'm workshopping some ideas with this thing & it's also slowly leaning into just declaring Clarke's Third Law the rule for handling ME's relationship with telepathic/telekinetic shit-

All this to say yes, and yes. It first appears as a child, because it's not used to making connections to individuals and it's learning on the fly- humans are protective of their young, right? But it becomes apparent Shepard isn't more protective of kids than anything else in general, so it slowly shifts tactics- the voices of loved ones, glimpses of old enemies, but it still morphs, until the final confrontation: it imitates Adrian, whole and hale like she'll never be again.

26. A lesson that was hard to learn:

You can't save everyone.

It's arguable if she ever did learn that- related to the above, if she ever did, it was only while talking to some abandoned AI as she was dying.

27. Who was their first crush? - When her parents were stationed to the Citadel when she was around 15, there was a salarian in the area she was kind of into, but for very many reasons that never went anywhere.

28. How do they feel about all the new cybernetics Miranda installed? - Honestly she really digs them. Like- yes it was unconsentual but Adrian never bought into that Ship of Thesus cyberpunk moralizing bullshit. She'd always been fine with bodily augmentation of all sorts, and had even had some done early on in her career.

29. Does Shepard remember dying? - Yes. Goes with an answer from the first set I did, it's slated for a writeup 👀

30. One of the dumbest things they’ve ever done: 'Okay no trust me guys I can drive this at a 90 degree angle right up a mountain this thing kicks ass-'

That was her first ground mission with Garrus and Tali. They were upside down for ten minutes and got so lost, Joker couldn't find them for another 30.

31. What is their favorite story to tell? The one that they get such a kick outta sharing that the gang could probably recite it from memory by now - Garrus and Tali actually do get in on this one since they were there- 'so I managed to talk a completely indoctrinated Saren into shooting himself-'

(Garrus also gets to mouth along to one from the SR2 era, because it was impressive and becomes meaningful but also lost all gravity to him immediately because he got to see Shepard at possibly her most flustered ever as a direct result of it: 'It seemed like an easy enough one, we might not even get invovled in combat, but it'd get Thane some ground time and see how he fit in, you know? But then there's this nest of Eclipse mercs...')

32. What kind of drunk is Shepard? Affectionate, weepy, belligerent…  - Loud and actually close to relaxed for once in her life.

33. Describe their laugh: Warm- like sunlight from late on a summer day over a fast river.

34. What was it like, facing a reaper on foot? - Numb. Like, logically? Terrifying, but so much was happening that she just kind of bypassed terror into pure flow. If asked about it later, she genuinely can't recall anything about the fight.

35. Are there any friendships that form among the crew that surprises Shepard? - Wrex and Ashley. Before Virmire, Wrex had been one of the first to join in Ash's attempt at a book club, and even after, the two seemed to butt heads but like, in a respectful rival sort of way; and they always seemed to fight well together.

Of the SR2 crew: A few (Jack winds up hanging out with Samara- ostenssibly to see if she can make her crack; Grunt spends hours in the armory chatting with Jacob), but the standout moment was Shepard coming back in from a long ground mission to refuel on snacks, only to find a moderately inebriated Garrus and Miranda... basically comisserating on daddy issues. She never brought it up to them. They never said anything to her. But she did ask EDI about it like a week later to make sure she didn't have some kind of hallucination.

36. What sort of thrills do they purposely seek out? - Fight Big Thing On Foot. Yeah, anyone can take out something with a tank canon, but bringing it down with smaller guns and way less armor is phenomenal.

37. The first speech Shepard ever gave. How’d it go? Poorly, but she was like 13. Mock debate about how humanity should go about interacting with wider galactic society. Shepard was assigned the more... 'pro-human' side. Her speech itself was technically fine (re: prepared by her dad because 'the Shepards have a reputation to maintain, dear'), but she failed & got a hell of a lecture for giving it in a (very broken, admittedly) turian dialect.

38. Do they celebrate holidays? Which is their favorite? - She's almost always up for celebrating a holiday, but her favorite is, oddly, New Year's! All of them. She likes the energetic, hopeful vibes they give everyone, and how it seems to be one that shows up in all species and tends to carry similar rituals. (There's three she gets the most involved in though, are: the galaxy Citadel standard, the one set by Earth's Gregorian calandar, and one following Rakhana's lunar cycle.)

39. Longest friendship? - Joker. In my canon, I like the idea that Shepard & Joker crossed paths a bunch growing up and were pretty good friends, keeping up online when they had to be apart. She tried to get assigned to ships he was piloting, and they were absolutely thrilled to show up to the Normandy and find each other.

40. What does Udina think of Shepard? - Hates her. Like, deep, visceral hatred for her. She could be the shining beacon of human interest and advancement, and instead, she's more interested in playing nice with the Council and has directly stated her refusal to put humanity first. So much potential, absolutey wasted.

41. If they were sent back to any moment in time, when would it be, and what would they change? - She's really not sure. Akuze is obviously the first thing that comes to mind, but... as much as she's ashamed of her actions, she can't deny that she vastly prefers living to dying, and she doubts she'd be able to get them to leave. Maybe Eden Prime - if there could be any way to warn Nihlus?

42. What song is their anthem? - The Fly

43. They come into an insane amount of money. How do they spend it? - Donate it/split it up amongst her friends. She doesn't feel she needs all that much, really.

44. What sort of relationship does Shepard have with the council? - Rough. She wants and tries to work with them as much as possible, but also oh my god will you get your heads out your collective ass/cloacas. (She also has very choice words for the idea of the council only being representative of three/four species of the like, dozen or so who agree to abide by Citadel law...)

45. Three things Shepard is bad at:

- Cooking anything more advanced than 'cold meat + cheese + berad'

-Saying 'no' when someone asks for help, even if they're clearly shady as fuck

-Driving.

46. Favorite candy? - Cotton candy. (Or anything that's vaguely fruity flavored sugar, really.)

47. Who is Shepard’s date to the Citadel party? - Sadly she never got that experience xD

48. What is Thane’s fate? - Died from injuries sustained defending the council- pretty true to canon tbh, but injuries that were severe enough he'd have died Kepral's or not. (Honestly as much as I love the final scene, I'm also a bastard who sometimes wants to say he was just DOA.)

49. What’s the perfect lazy-day shore leave? - Docked at one of the major ports, everyone gets an extra hour or so of time to sleep/fuck off as desired. Adrian herself usually tries to spend some time with a few people through the day (although Garrus and Tali are almost always a package deal lol), and if timing lines up well with Citadel stops she and Joker try to catch a meal with Anderson. SR1 era tended towards big group dinners out, SR2 era usually sees Shep & the crew picking up fresh supplies and heading back to the ship early to cook- usually it's Gardner, but some of the others pitch in here and there. And as things progress, of course, she and Thane do try to get some time out together.

50. What’s do they think of the leviathan? - Lack of DLC strikes again xD But I can give a thought there that to some level, she would find them amazing - she's always found deep ocean life fascinating and something that's still a source of mystery among most worlds. They're awesome in the classic sense of the word, almost sort of the realization of a dream.

+1. How long can Shepard hold their breath? - Her best time was nearly 7 minutes, averages around 5 & a half; N7 training and a love of swimming really helps. I imagine post cybernetics, it might be increased even further.

[lgcnathan]

solo : year end 2022, awards

word count : 496

thank god he’s not attending this ceremony by himself - nathan would’ve just died from the nerves alone if he was, after all.

all the awards shows they’ve attended thus far felt less... formal than this - like they were all huge concerts or festivals or something music-related that they were mainly focused on performing at; receiving the awards (if any) were just the cherry-on-top.

but this, this feels serious - this is serious, like, ‘wearing an actual designer suit for the red carpet’ and ‘just sitting and clapping for the whole night’-type of serious. and the worst (yes, worst) part was that nathan himself was nominated for an award tonight - an individual award, with a trophy or plaque or whatever material effect they decided on that’ll only have his name etched onto it if he wins.

fuck, remember those nerves? nathan’s right, they can kill.

he’s managed to keep them under wraps for most of the night until they finally arrived to the fated ‘idol variety star’ portion of the ceremony; nathan’s practically vibrating in his seat by how fast his foot is tapping in anxiousness during the most distressing sitting-and-clapping in his life.

they announce the nominees for ‘female idol variety star’ first, before naming crystallis’ astrid as the winner - at that, nathan’s sure to stand up to show his support for his labelmate before he sits back down and listens to her speech. one down, one more to go.

and then, ‘male idol variety star’ is next - he can’t even hear the hosts list off the other names, as just the sound of ‘type zero’s nathan’ is enough to leave his ears ringing and heart racing. the world’s moving in slow-motion as there’s that beat of silence before they announce the winner; the sounds of the hosts breathing and of the envelope being opened echo in the microphone before they finally open their mouths and— 

congratulations, type zero’s nathan!

stillness transcends into applause as he’s ushered up the steps and to the stage by his members, the staff, the bulking camera that’s suddenly in front of his face and filming his entire reaction, live.

nathan tries not to appear too dazed as he makes his way in front of, well, everybody, and when he’s finally given his award to hold, he’s stunned - almost too stunned to give a speech himself.

“u-uhh, i’ll be honest, i wasn’t expecting to win tonight. it was a big enough honor to just be nominated, so to win such an award is truly amazing. umm - i’d like to thank those who’s supported me this year: my friends and family, my members, everyone at the company. because of you all, i’m standing here today. err—i hope to bring even more joy and entertainment to viewers in the future. thank you all for looking after me and treating me kindly. please continue to support bae nathan and type zero from now on. thank you again.”