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sergeantbarnessdoll · 6 months ago

Note

Dr. Raynor asks Y/N and Bucky what they think the other’s deepest, darkest fears are (as some sort of teamwork exercise that the duo immediately calls BS on). This leads the reader to list off a bunch of things about thinking he’s a fraud, that he’s incapable of giving or receiving love, etc. Bucky, smirking, keeps it direct. He simply says that Y/N’s biggest fear is admitting that she’s in love with him.

He says it facetiously, of course. But the hesitation and lack of immediate barbed response says more than words ever could.

The silence, naturally, is the perfect opportunity for Dr. Raynor to use her notebook.

Maybe not enemies-to-lovers, but more rivals-to-lovers? A hefty amount of idiots-in-love, and probably some angst-to-fluff-to-Sam-owing-Sarah-$20-for-the-bet-that-they-weren’t-in-love.

Just Admit It » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Dr. Raynor has you and Bucky do a teamwork exercise which ends up with you two admitting your feelings for each other.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff ending, language, Rivals to Lovers/Idiots In Love, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

“We’re going to try something different.” Dr. Raynor moves her notebook aside to lean her arms on the table. “I’m going to have you two do a teamwork exercise. In order to do that I need you two to face each other.” She says.

“Why?” You asked.

“Don’t question me and just do it.” She says.

You and Bucky turned your chairs around so you two were facing each other.

“Closer.” She says.

“Seriously?” Bucky says.

Dr. Raynor nodded. You and Bucky furrowed your eyebrows, already calling bullshit on it before moving closer to each other. You two were so close that your legs were touching his.

“Now, tell each other what you think each other’s deepest, darkest fears are.” She says.

You and Bucky sat there staring each other down for a moment in complete silence.

“What are you- are you guys having a staring contest?” Dr. Raynor asks.

You guys didn’t answer her. You two just continued to stare each other down in silence.

“Knock it off!” She snaps her fingers to get you guys to stop it. “Talk.” She orders.

Bucky rolled his eyes at her before looking at you, waiting for you to say something. You sighed loudly at the Super Soldier.

“Well, for starters, I think you’re a fraud.” You say.

“I’m a lot of things, but a fraud isn’t one of them.” He says.

“I also think you’re incapable of giving love and receiving it.” You say.

Bucky listened to everything else you listed off about him, which he thinks is simply untrue. He just chuckles and smirks facetiously at you.

“You wanna know what I think, doll?” He leans forward. “I think your biggest fear is admitting that you’re in love with me.” He says with the same facetious smirk on his face.

“I- that’s-” You couldn’t find the words you wanted to say, because he’s right and he knows it. “That’s not true.” You lied.

“Don’t try lying your way out of this. I heard my name come up in your conversation with Sam’s sister.” He says.

“You shouldn’t listen to or eavesdrop on people’s conversations.” You say.

“I wasn’t listening or eavesdropping. I heard you say it. I have enhanced hearing.” He says, sounding sarcastic.

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it. You tilted your head back, groaning loudly. Bucky smirks to himself and leaned back in his chair.

“You’re so fucking annoying!” You say, almost shouting.

“The feeling is mutual, doll face.” Bucky says.

“How many damn times have I told you not to call me those stupid pet names?” You say, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I call you those little pet names just to annoy you.” He says, the facetious smirk returning to his face.

“How the hell did Steve even put up with you years ago?” You asked without realizing what you just said.

The smirk dropped from Bucky’s face and he clenched his jaw. Your eyes widened, realizing that the Steve subject is still sensitive for him. You two sat in silence. Dr. Raynor took the opportunity to write in her notebook during that silence.

“Are we done here?” Bucky asks Dr. Raynor.

“Yes, you two are dismissed.” Dr. Raynor says.

Bucky stood up from his chair, the chair making a scraping noise against the floor. You stood up and followed him.

“Bucky, wait!” You ran up to him. “I didn’t mean to bring up Steve like that.” You say.

“Don’t!” Bucky growls. “Don’t say his fucking name like you know him. You didn’t know him like I did. He was my best friend and you had to say shit like that.” He says.

“I didn’t mean to.” You say, trying to sound sincere.

“Save it.” He gets on his motorcycle. “I don’t want to fucking hear another god damn word coming from your mouth.” He says.

Bucky started his motorcycle and you stepped back when he drove way. You watched him drive away from a distance. You stood there, feeling guilty about the way you brought up Steve. You decided to leave Bucky alone and try to talk to him tomorrow.

You and Bucky have been rivals for as long as you two can remember. You two never got along. Steve tried everything to get you two to get along, but nothing worked. It only seemed to get worse after he left. The only thing you guys can agree on is work and that’s it.

The next day, you went to Sam’s and his sister’s house, hoping that Bucky was there and he was. His motorcycle is in the driveway. You knocked on the door and patiently waited for someone to open it. Sarah opened the door, smiling when she seen you. She gave you a hug before stepping aside to let you come inside.

“Is Bucky here?” You asked, fiddling with your fingers. “I seen his motorcycle in the driveway.” You say.

“Yes. He’s in the back with Sam.” Sarah says.

You followed her to the backyard. Bucky and Sam were throwing the shield around.

“Bucky, you have a visitor.” Sarah says.

Bucky stared at you in silence. You could sense that he was still mad about what you said yesterday.

“Let’s leave them alone, Sam.” She says.

“But I want to hear what they’re going to say to each other.” Sam says.

“Come on!” She says, grabbing his arm and pulled him towards the house.

“Ow! Ok, ok!” He says.

You and Bucky stood in silence. You were trying to build up the courage to apologize to him.

“Are you going to say something or are you just going to waste my time like you always do?” Bucky says.

You looked down at the ground before looking back at him. You know you have to apologize and you might as well get it over with. You took a deep breath before saying anything.

“I’m sorry about how I brought up Steve yesterday.” You started. “I know how sensitive that subject is for you and I shouldn’t have said that. I know he’s your best friend and you miss him.” You say, sounding sincere.

“You should be sorry. You were totally out of line for it.” He says.

“I know and I’m sorry.” You apologized. “It’s just- you get to me sometimes and I didn’t realize I said it.” You say.

The facetious smirk grew on Bucky’s face when you said he gets to you sometimes. That’s enough to confirm that you’re in love with him without having to say it.

“I get to you sometimes?” Bucky asks, smirking facetiously.

“I- yes!” You say, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“So I was right about what I said yesterday.” He took a couple steps closer to you. “You’re in love with me.” He says, the facetious smirk staying on his face.

Meanwhile, Sam and Sarah were watching from the kitchen window.

“$20 that Y/N kisses Bucky.” Sarah says.

“$20 that Bucky walks away from her.” Sam says.

“I’m not too sure about that. Y/N knows what she wants when she wants it.” She says.

You stared up at Bucky, feeling your heat hammering in your chest. The tension between the two was so thick that it could be cut with a knife.

“Are you going to admit it or what, doll face?” Bucky asks.

You didn’t say anything. You grasped the collar of his blue henley and pulled him down for a kiss. Bucky’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you against his body. Your lips moved in sync with his. It felt everything around you two was moving in slow motion.

“I told you so! Pay up, Sam!” Sarah says, loud enough for you and Bucky to hear, making you two laugh against each other’s lips.

Sam made a grumbling noise and took his wallet out of his pocket, taking $20 out of it and gave it to his sister. Sarah smiles proudly to herself cause she won a bet against her brother.

“Boys, who wants ice cream?!” Sarah asks, calling out for her sons.

The kiss was so passionate that you and Bucky were breathless by the time you two pulled away from the kiss, looking deep in each other’s eyes.

“I really am sorry about how I brought up Steve.” You apologized again.

“It’s ok. I forgive you.” Bucky says.

Bucky brought a hand up to your cheek, caressing it and rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“Does this mean you want to be mine?” He asks softly.

“Didn’t that kiss prove it for you?” You asked, answering his question with a question.

Bucky chuckles and pecks your lips softly, which turned into another passionate kiss.

“Hey!” Sam shouts. “Keep it PG13! There’s kids here!” He shouts, making you and Bucky laugh against each other’s lips.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 month ago

Text

Ice Cream (part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: the shadow needs to be put on timeout.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1821

Warnings: literally just fluff. azzie being a shy baby again🥹ALSO SHADOWS BEING MENACES BWAHAHAHAA💀 az is like an old asian parent tired of his kids bs 😭

A/n: ooof i love the shadows omg there such a pain in az's lil ass lmaoo. the one smartass shadow in the first part comes back to steal the spotlight and to make az's life miserable by its jabs lol🥹

ALSO THIS IS THE LAST PART IN THIS SERIES IM SO HAPPY OML I LOVED WRITING THIS 🥹😭

anyways, enjoyyy🥹🤭

(ps. the idea for shadows writing yn's name on az was given by @ayme301 hehe so thank youuuu 🥹❣️)

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel had a routine. He always did.

Wake up, train, have something to eat, send reports to Rhys, analyse more reports, go onto missions if he had any, and train some more. It was always the same variation of the same few things.

But for a month now, his routine had a new addition. Having her on his mind every moment of every day.

His mind kept wandering to the colour of her eyes, the texture of her hair, the slight tilt to her lips when she found something he did funny. The way her quick wit and subtle hints of her boldness showed through her cold exterior as she slowly began to let her guard down around him, the way her eyes began to light up ever so lightly when she saw him as the two spent more and more time together.

She had become an important part of his routine, and he did not have a single problem with it, even as it put strain on him to finish up his work sooner so no one would suspect he was getting distracted from his duty.

Having her on his mind constantly, it was hard to focus on what his family was doing as they all sat in a booth at Rita’s, because he was too busy wondering what Y/n might be doing tonight. Maybe she was at her home, reading and sipping tea. Maybe she was out with her friends. Maybe she was by herself, wandering through the countless shops displaying items irresistible to anyone.

Maybe she was thinking of him.

The last thought had sudden heat travelling to Azriel’s cheeks, and he willed his shadows to cover him in case his family took notice of it as he lifted his almost empty cup of the alcoholic beverage Cassian had shoved into his hands to his lips.

Azriel looked up, glancing out of the window near the booth his family occupied, hoping that if Y/n really was out, she would walk by. It would certainly be a treat to his eyes and a soothing distraction from the overstimulation that was the inner circle.

"Az?"

He blinked, glancing over to Feyre, who stared at Az with furrowed brows. "Yes?"

She stared at him for a moment, a moment in which Azriel quickly looked over everyone present over the table. All their eyes were fixed on him, some confused, some curious. "We asked if you’re in for the game?"

Az straightened, setting his glass on the table and wrapped his arms around his chest. "Sure."

Cassian lifted a brow. "Do you even know what we’re playing?" Azriel’s cheeks flushed at the knowing look in his brother’s eyes, and he glanced down at his lap, clearing his throat and waiting for a shadow to fill him in on what was going on.

Master needs to learn to pay attention.

Azriel turned his head slightly to scowl at the particular shadow, and it bobbed away happily, as if unaware of his glare. But thankfully, another shadow floated up to his ear to whisper.

Truth or drink. They wish to probe and do your work.

The shadow that had initially hurried away from Azriel slithered back up his neck.

Be nosy, that is.

Azriel would have glared had he not had to turn back to his family. He nodded slightly, clearing his throat. "Truth or drink. I’m in."

Cassian leaned back, shooting a look that irked Azriel to Rhysand, who leaned forward on the table with a shit eating grin. "Let’s start with you then, brother. Who is keeping you so distracted and bothered all the time?"

Azriel clenched his jaw, releasing a breath through his nose, contemplating whether it was worth telling his family and bringing himself to his doom at their gossiping hands.

Before he could settle on his choice to drink, his shadows had already made the decision.

"Y…" Mor squinted, her brows furrowed, and Azriel’s blood ran cold when he heard the first few syllables of her name. "Y/n?"

Azriel stared at Mor, who smirked, her eyes fixed on Azriel’s forehead as she leaned back. Azriel looked around at all his friends, wondering what the hell was going on and how they knew Y/n’s name. And then a shadow moved closer to his ear.

Y/n.

Y/n Y/n Y/n.

Azriel reeled in his frustration at the less than helpful chanting, but then the same shadow hit his chin, prompting him to lift it, and his eyes landed on her.

She wore a simple black dress, the thing covering everything and leaving everything up to imagination with the high neck and long sleeves and skirts. Her hair was open, and she looked just as beautiful as she always did.

And she was looking right at him, her lips spread in a smile as she stood right behind Cassian, seemingly having stood up from the booth next to them.

In the back of his mind, Azriel knew his family was looking at him in concern when he said nothing, but he couldn’t care less as he stared at that smile, the one he had seen for the first time ever.

She is beautiful.

She never smiled more than the slight tilts to her lips, and maybe it was for the good, because if he had seen that smile earlier, he might already be married right now. She was so mesmerising, it was a miracle Azriel hadn’t asked her to be his on the first ever outing to the ice cream shop the two had been to. But if he had seen her offer him that smile, he would have gone too far in love, he knew.

Master needs to stop drooling, he looks like a baby.

And ugly.

Azriel almost turned to scowl, but he did not want to miss even a moment of the smile on her face. But that also led him to the question. Why was she smiling?

She giggled lightly, and he only knew because he saw her throat muscles move as she lifted a finger to her forehead, then pointed at him.

And then Azriel realised.

He quickly lifted his hand to his head, whipping away the shadow that would not stop acting like a smartass teenager. After he was sure the shadow was gone and no longer using his forehead as some sort of writing surface to announce to the world his feelings for a certain bookstore owner, he swallowed and stood, trying to excuse himself.

But Cassian turned, looking right at Y/n. "Are you Y/n?"

The eyes Azriel always found himself lost in lifted to meet his own hazel ones, her cheeks turning a deeper shade as she tried to stop smiling. Azriel could see the blush on her face, even in the dim lighting, and he thanked the mother for his eyesight.

Y/n not having her guard up at all times was not a sight everyone was blessed to witness.

She nodded lightly, glancing around at the rest of Azriel’s friends before giving him a small wave. She turned and walked out after her friends, who laughed among themselves. She did shoot him a glance before she walked out, but then she was gone.

Azriel turned, trying to see if there was any way he could escape his confines, having been pushed to sit between the window and Feyre. And when he didn’t, he climbed onto the seat and stepped behind her, then Rhysand, whispering apologies as he hopped onto the ground and broke into a sprint, hoping to catch up to Y/n.

His family tried to call after him, but Azriel was a male on a mission, and a very skilled one at that.

He stepped out into the cold night air, his eyes landing on Y/n waving at her friends as they went the opposite direction. He swallowed, hoping she would not mind his presence and walked towards her. She probably felt his proximity, as when she turned, she only smiled at him and gestured for him to walk with her.

A shadow floated close to Azriel to inform him of the way his family was watching him like hawks from the window they had sat next to, and when Azriel turned to look, sure enough, Cassian and feyre scrambled away, while Rhysand, Mor and Nesta looked like they were trying too hard to act nonchalant.

"They really are nosy." Y/n’s soft voice reached Azriel, and he turned to offer her an exasperated look.

"And I deal with it everyday."

She laughed, gently slipping her hand to hold his arm. Instantly, his pulse was galloping.

Master is no better than a schoolboy.

Azriel shot a glare to the darned shadow, wondering if there was a chance he could put it in timeout.

"So… I keep you distracted, huh?" Y/n spoke after a moment, making Azriel’s ears go warm.

"I…"

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder as the two walked the rest of the way in silence. Azriel only heard her laugh ring in his ears, wishing and praying that he would be blessed enough by the mother to hear the beautiful sound for the rest of his life.

Only once the two were at her apartment doors did she pull away and step forward, towards the entrance before turning to him, around an arms length of distance between the two.

Too much.

"So?"

Azriel folded his hands at his back, smiling slightly. "So?"

She leaned back against the wall, humming. "When am I meeting the family then?"

His breath hitched. "You… want to?"

She lifted a brow. "You don’t?"

Azriel shook his head, looking down at his boots. "I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, and I know they can be a lot sometimes."

He heard her move closer to him, lifting his eyes to meet her gaze once both her hands had reached out to hold one of his. "I think I am ready, Az."

Az. She called me Az.

He leaned his head closer to her. "What do I get if I take you to meet them?"

She blinked at him. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe you get to tell everyone you are courting me? And you can stop having to sneak around to meet me?"

He grinned, hearing those words spoken into the space between them as he touched his forehead to hers. "Hmm… not enough. I want more."

She snorted. "And what is that?"

"Maybe you take me out to the ice cream shop again." He reached up to touch her cheek, his eyes fixated on the way her skin seemed to contrast with his.

"And this time, we will get a huge bucket of mint chocolate, and share it. Like a real couple."

She smiled again, rolling onto her tiptoes to press her lips to his cheek.

"Mint chocolate it is."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

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@celestialgilb @donnadiddadog

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ajortga · 10 months ago

Text

competition

pairing: slytherin!toxic!jenna ortega x ravenclaw!fem reader

summary: jenna loves to joke around, you both know it. as she gets braver and braver with her jokes, it comes with a price, eventually hurting you and taking away something you loved most.

warnings: slight angst, teasing remarks, heavy makeout scene, rushed ending, enemies to lovers

word count: 5.2k+

based off request!

Jenna criticizes literally everything about R's performance (J's an ass here 😓), while R is actually starting to get really pressured, J would always have something to say, thennn R gets tired of J's bs and begins focusing on themselves more, which would lead to R ignoring J for atleast a month or two, obviously J's pride is awfully. THEN J CONFESSES TO HER FRIEND, (how inlove she is w R and how she misses R sm) WITHOUT KNOWING THAT R IS NEARBY, OVERHEARING EVERYTHING. 😍😍 A DAY AFTER... R JUST TAKES J IN A PRIVATE ROOM AND KISSING TF OUTTA HER.

Slytherin Jenna! x Ravenclaw R!

Your test paper gets put on your desk, your teacher murmuring a small, “I expected better, Y/N.”

There was a 65% circled in red and it made you sick to your stomach, you had never gotten a low score before, especially in potions. You knew your concoctions and effects, you swear you had mixed everything perfectly. You groan in frustration, cursing to yourself.

Your hand scrunches, breathing in deeply as you ruffle your hair, now hearing the voice of the person you would rather befriend a frog with and use them first as a sacrifice for a blood sucking demon.

“How can someone fail a potions exam? You managed to get first place for being the biggest dweeb, messing up the easiest class.” Jenna slightly smirks, teasingly as she approaches you and whispers sharply in your ear, your eyes glaring at her. “It’s impressive you didn’t notice a small switch of potions. All I did was switch the labels of the potions which had the same color and you didn’t even notice.”

Of course she switched up the potions to set you up for failing, “You know how important this is to me.”

“Aw.. I’m so sorry Y/N,” she mocks, “What a pity.” She pouts, “I don’t care.”

You want to smack her in the face, maybe throw that explosive potion you made to melt off her face, but you don’t. At this point you’re thinking of something to get her back, packing your spell books.

“I swear she won’t get off my shoulders, I haven’t done a single damn thing to Ortega.”

Emma laughs, nudging you, “Maybe she just likes teasing someone sweet like you.”

An annoyed exhale leaves your lips, not knowing what she meant by that, “Well she better stop it,” you grab your broom stick.

Your friend thinks a little, “Just put a small spell on her broomstick! Nothing, you know, to make her hurt, just maybe throw her off balance.”

That interests you, you're trying to think of a sparkle you could just add onto hers. You notice she hasn’t gone to class yet and clearly you can see the large stick hidden between her name. As you approach, your fingers touch the stick, feeling the way your body immediately focuses, then you pull your finger away to go back to Emma. You feel like you shouldn’t, but you don’t feel a single ounce of guilt as a smirk forms when you reach her.

“Come on,” you urge, taking Emma’s hand as you make your way outside with your broom sticks.

You use your right hand, grabbing it forward as Mrs. Hooch stays on the side, watching. You’ve all gotten the hang of it either way, it’s rare for some people to fall.

“Up!” Emma and you say in unison, seeing your sticks fly up as you smile at each other and hop on, ready for a flight.

You giggle, feeling yourself ascend.

“Y/L/N,” You hear Jenna’s voice behind you, making your figure turn to face her. You see her stiffen.

Emma gives you a look, cunning.

“Ortega,” you greet, not so politely, but not rude nonetheless.

“I’d challenge you to a racing match, but I do know that your ass is scared that I’ll beat and outrun you in seconds.”

You give out a snarky laugh, “I highly doubt you could even reach me by the time I ascend. I’m better at you than flying, we both know that.”

Jenna does know that, sort of. And she doesn’t want you to prove it, not during flight class while everyone is watching.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to challenge me, niñita,” you respond again, seeing the way Jenna was thinking.

“Then I challenge you,”

“And I accept.”

Emma nudges you, you hear her whisper in your ear, “Well, she’d probably complain, you did sort of spell her broom and she’d notice as soon as she’d get on.”

A grin forms on your lips, tearing your eyes from the tiny Jenna, “Well, I spelled it so that if Jenna were to try anything, cause that’s the bitch she is, the spell would take effect. I’m not entirely making myself win at all. I know for a fact she’d try to make me loose, she doesn’t want to lose at all, well at least to me. I know her long enough to know she’d put a spell to make me lose balance, Em.”

You see Hooch in the corner of your eye, “Plus, Hooch is watching everything, and because I spelled her broom before hand, nothing will happen until she aims some spell at me. Hooch will see that, or at least a little sparkle and chant of words. But she won’t see mine, since I spelled it before, and she’ll just think Jenna lost her balance trying to spell me.”

Emma looks at you, not knowing if you should go on.

“Em! Seriously, Jenna has been making me miserable this year, and I haven’t done anything. This is just a playful harmless thing. It’s the least I can do. I could’ve spawned a rat in her dorm that follows her everywhere!”

“Go, I sort of want to see her fall.”

The grin that disappeared forms again, winking at her as you hop back on your broom.

Then you two are off.

You rush through the field, feeling the wind blow through your hair. You loved feeling that cool breeze, it’s unreal, flying is your favorite thing to do.

Jennas not far behind, but far enough to know that you’ll win.

She groans to herself, watching your pretty, she meant nasty figure speed ahead.

The brunette’s eyes narrow, she wasn’t going to let you win without a fight, she focuses on your broom, she’s close enough to do something.

The wind is making your hair go crazy, but in a good way. Everyone is waiting their turn from below, watching you race through the course. Fast enough to feel their hair blow from your swiftness.

An exhale pasts her lips, you can see her trying to come closer, or almost urging you to slow down. But you don’t, of course you won’t. You speed faster, dodging an incoming tree and turning a corner.

Jenna feels blood rushing through her ears, murmuring something under her breath as she gets ready to swish through you and laugh.

She begins the spell, feeling her fingertips slightly tingle. But as soon as she’s about to shoot a spark, her hands let go and she sees the blue flying spark stumble towards you. Instead of it hitting your broom and making it shake, your hair flies through the wind and it shoots back at her.

Jenna yelps, feeling the way her broom starts to shake.

Emma giggles from the sidelines, as soon as you pass the blonde’s figure, you send her a thumbs up and a knowing wink.

God finally.

The brunette loses her balance, feeling the broom shake left and right, she’s clinging onto it tightly, smacks her head on loose branches. She feels herself slow down to regain a steady pace, but as she speeds up again, you’re already gone, swerving a corner.

The tiny brunette grumbles from the benches, watching you smile and jump up and down.

“Impressive play out there, Y/N. You just might be our best flier out there, keep your swift performance and you’ll be on for Quidditch.”

You already knew you’d win, even if Jenna hit your broom with her spell. You’ve won every time racing against the class.

You approach her, giving her a half-hearted smile, you’d take it as a smirk.

“Well, someone tried to cheat.”

You hear her huff, and it makes you giggle, you brush off the stick that is stuck in her hair.

“I regret doing that, Em, that tiny tiny 3 foot 1 foot cockroach is making me fall into her traps,” you murmur, stomping your foot.

“At least you got a taste of revenge, Y/N.”

“I guess so,” you say, sinking into your seat, you feel yourself begin to find her playful and harmless banters to be stressful by every joke and scandal that girl plays.

As Quidditch season approaches, Jenna swipes her hair to the side, tying it up as you watch her with narrow eyes. It’s just a regular racing match this time. No ball. Just two talented people against each other.

Well, one more talented than the other, you think to yourself

Hooch brings you two together, in which you stare each other down, your gaze not faltering on each other.

“Goodluck, I wish you two a fair match.”

You two shake hands, though you both won’t admit it was a genuine one. You give Jenna a final glare before gazing back at the field, focusing.

“Ready?” Hooch says, you don’t respond, just a subtle nod.

“And.. Up!”

You and Jenna shout at your brooms.

“Up!” you command, seeing your favorite item fly up, you jump on it.

Then you both swing off.

Again, not long after, does Hooch see the way your practicing and after school matches with friends are working well. You’re much farther than Jenna is, and again, it’s like no other match. But this time Jenna isn’t going to let you win again.

She growls, casting spells onto your broom and immediately, you feel your broom slow down.

“What the hell.” You mutter to yourself, you dive down. But it seems like your broom isn’t listening.

It’s swishing up and down, left to right, and you steady yourself, but you’re shaking.

You're swinging back and forth and you're losing control, you can’t make your broom stop. It’s not like just a shake of your broom and you lose balance before catching yourself, this time it’s worse. Your broom isn’t listening.

You scream to yourself, not too loud. But Mrs. Hooch can see the way Jenna is catching up, she knows Jenna did something, but it’s not looking good. Sure playful banters were okay.

But instead of dodging a tree, you smack your head straight into the leafiness, feeling the thorns of the leaves sink and cut beneath your eye. Jenna swishes through you, not looking back. The pain immediately comes through, harsh stings roaring through your skin. You cry out, completely losing balance on your broom, crashing into the tree harshly and feeling your head bang into the wood.

Jenna still hasn’t noticed the damage she’s caused.

You feel yourself fall.

Farther and farther.

Till your body crashes down on the grassy field, your bones from the fall aren’t helping. You hear the way they crack. And then you feel warm blood trickling down your forehead and down from the cut on your eye. You whimper.

Black spots invade your vision and you feel carsick. But you know you’re not in a car.

Your eyes flutter, making a soft groan as Emma approaches you. You can barely see her worried face but you know she’s scared.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” She says, it’s muffled. You don’t respond, her figure is blurry, you can barely see her blue eyes.

Before you can even think of a response, your eyes shut.

And as Jenna reaches the finish line, she just turns around, to notice you at least tens of feet below from her, collapsed on the ground and curled up. She can’t help but feel a gasp fall from her lips, diving down and getting off her broom stick.

She didn’t mean for it to get this chaotic, she was just hoping you’d crash into a branch and get all angry and fussy. Not get hurt. As she approaches closer, she sees blood trickling down your face as your chest heaves up and down. Emma looks at you, worriedly as everyone surrounds you two.

Jenna feels something that she doesn’t want to admit, she feels guilty for hurting you. You had barely done anything to her, but she’s messed with you countless times, you’ve gotten in trouble for it.

And you never ratted her out. The one time you decide to get her back, she’s taken things too far.

“God,” she murmurs, her voice betraying her as she pushes through the crowds of people, “Is she okay?”

The way her friend turns to her, your best friend looks like she’s about to explode, “Does she look okay? DOES SHE LOOK OKAY JENNA? What the hell were you thinking?” the blonde says the last part half aloud, where only Ortega can hear.

“I didn’t think she’d get hurt!” Jenna retorts, kneeling down and putting her hesitant hand over your chest, feeling the way it was beating quickly, chest going up and down, up down.

Immediately nurses come and drag you out, Emma following you as they take you to the infirmary.

Jenna feels herself following too, until Hooch catches up with her.

“Ortega!” Her voice is loud, screeching as she pulls Jenna off to the side, “what on earth do you think you were doing? You’ve gotten Y/N seriously hurt because of a stupid practice match! Don’t think I didn’t catch the lame spell you’ve cast.” her eyes are wild, angry, “You know we don’t allow spells on the battlefield, I know some of Hogwarts students have broken it, but it’s never been so severe, you’ve hurt her tremendously. She’s bleeding, and I think she’ll suffer some sprains.”

Jenna nods, she understands. Sort of. She wants to understand, she knows what she did was bad. Hooch takes a deep breath, “I’m disappointed with you.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know if Y/N will heal in three months, she’s been our best and fastest player, with quick decisions and speedy moves. She might have to sit out on Quidditch, I was looking forward to taking the trophy this season. And I would disqualify you, send you to detention after school everyday till she properly heals,” Hooch takes a deep breath, “But you have to be one of our players because you have the ability to. That doesn’t mean that you won’t get detention. I’ll even ask Dumbledore to exclude you from house games.

God, Jenna didn’t mean to make you be kicked out this season. She knew how much you wanted it. She can’t help but feel guilty.

Hooch’s voice once again speaks up, “And I expect you to apologize and pay her a visit. You two have never gotten along, but I know you both care about each other. Even if it’s slight.”

A soft nod leaves her, her eyes lingering on your small figure that is now being taken to surgery. Maybe she’ll slow down with the pranks.

As soon as visitors are allowed in, Jenna begins to stand up and approach your door.

“Ortega, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t open that door,” it’s Emma's voice, but this time she sounds much more angry. Unlike the voice the brunette is used to hearing.

The way Jenna stands there, Emma narrows her eyes, “You’ve already hurt her, what more can you need? Unplug the oxygen tank and start laughing your stubborn ass up? I don’t think so.”

She was taken by surprise, the fact that both you and Emma have gotten used to her tricks, she feels herself biting her lip.

“N-no.. No, not anything like that. I just wanted to apologize. I know my tricks have gone a bit farther than expected.”

Emma approaches her, pressing her finger to Jenna’s chest, “You’ve hurt her more than enough, and I can see it. She’s done nothing to you! Nothing!” your best friend growls, and Jenna backs up.

“You just don’t understand how much you’ve pressured her! Because you’re too busy standing there like the spoiled person you are on your banters.”

Jenna smacks her hands off, raising both of her hands to show she’s ‘surrendering,’ “I know, I know Em! Just let me apologize.”

“Not when she’s just about to wake up, you wouldn’t want the least expected person who hurt you to show up as soon as you wake up. Give her time,” the blonde grumbles, shushing her back to her seat as she enters your room. Jenna stands up again, noticing you're still unconscious.

Emma can feel her presence, and decides not to turn back as she sits on the chair next to you. Your face lost its color. None of the pink shade that tinted your cheeks when Jenna teased you. The pink shade that she wanted to see was gone, replaced by a pale, tired face, sound asleep.

There were cuts all over you, she saw some bruises and there was a big bandage wrapped around your right cheek. She also saw a deep cut that was gauzed up in your arm. She winced. A few broken bones maybe.

She didn’t know it was this bad. The only noise was Emma’s sniffles, and the small beep of your heartbeat’s monitor. Jenna sighs, scooting closer and hesitantly bringing her hand close to your face. She felt like if she were to touch you, you would turn into dust.

Her hand gently traces your fast, your nose slightly twitches, but she knows you’re too weak to move or wake up. Then she brushes through your hair, it’s weird beginning to see all the times she’s treated you wrongly as something she shouldn’t have done. Each trick got worse than the other, more risky of being harmed. And now look at you, all broken and bruised.

I didn’t mean it, Jenna thinks, looking down at your tiny figure.

I really didn’t mean it.

Your eyes flutter closed, and immediately you close them again, groaning from the whitest most lightest light you’ve ever encountered, covering yourself with a blanket. As soon as you move, you moan softly in pain, feeling pain roar through your body.

“Stay still,” you hear a familiar voice say, you can’t lend your finger on it. It sounds pretty, and before you can process it your brain switches that thought off. It’s your annoying rival that casted a spell that got you here in the first place. Jenna stupid Ortega.

You grunt, looking up at her, you feel bandages around you, avoiding contact with the brunette.

“Emma should be back soon, she was getting some flowers for you.”

“Good, then you can leave.”

Harsh.

You hear the way Jenna sighs, and you shake it off, turning slightly so you can face the entertaining wall instead of her.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“Please, can’t you see I’m apologizing?”

“No, Jenna. You knew I didn’t like these things you did to me before. And you decide to apologize now? Do you think it’s going to make me forgive you just like that?” You say, turning back at her, a storm brews behind your eyes.

“I can’t participate in the one thing I was looking forward to this season! Just because you put this spell that you knew could harm me badly! You knew I wanted to be in Quidditch!” Jenna winces at your increasing voice.

“You could’ve been on the team too! It’s not just one of us! But you got your actions in the way before you could even think! And now you want to apologize?” It's loud, your voice begins to falter a little. Your shoulders untense, and Jenna can hear the monitor of your heart increase by four times, she shushes you, pulling you onto your back.

“Stop,” she says, her voice is too soft for your liking, you can’t think. Too much is going on in your mind, “Please.”

“Get out Jenna.”

“W-what? You don’t understand.. I’m trying to-”

“Jenna, get the hell out!” You snap, your eyes filled to the max with unshed tears.

You stay silent, before cracking out a tiny, “Please.”

And like that, Jenna walks out of the room, murmuring an “I’m sorry.”

Just this time, she really wanted you to know that she meant it.

It’s been a month, and by now your arm was barely healing, and there was a stupid ugly mark of a cut on your face. The pain was harsh, if your arm didn’t heal by the time Quidditch began, all your practice and effort would flush down the drain. It scared you.

As bad as the pain got, your mark would probably never fade, there would always be a purple cut marked under your eye. Even once it’s completely healed, ones that meet you will notice your cut, in a lighter shade than your actual skin tone. It made you cry every night, silently.

It was stupid to cry over, your deep bruises weren’t even close to healing. Every time you would accidentally press into it, you’d shriek in pain. You felt insecure of yourself. It didn’t feel good, every time you’d look at yourself in the mirror there would be your healing cuts scarred over your body.

“It looks s-so ugly..” You hiccup, looking at yourself in the mirror, Emma by your side as she shakes her head, “Nonsense, it’s okay.”

“It might never go away.”

“And that’s okay, when you're older, you’ll find it silly, I promise. It’s a reminder of being here, and to remind you that competition is less superior when it comes to safety.”

You can’t help but feel yourself shrink, watching the scar on your face haunt you.

Jenna sees you in the hallways, you're in half her classes. But every single time she looks at you, you’re never looking her way. Not like before. Not when exam scores are passed out during Snape or McGonagall when you usually turn around and she waves her high score in the air, but you always wave yours back, grinning happily when you got one percent higher than her. She found you annoying, but now she feels like she’s taken you for granted. You were the one who taught her how to properly care for her plant in Herbology, although most of the time she’s retained information from the random songs and joking nerdy remarks.

Jenna hated sitting next to you in that class, she loved teasing you and making you explode from frustration. She hated the way you looked at her and had the ability to somehow use some Hogwarts nonsense to make her think back at your smile.

It was something you did to her, it couldn’t have been herself, she’d never be thinking of your smile or you in general. You must’ve casted a spell on her.

Yet she remembers that she’s thinking about you right now.

Anyways, she hated the way you smirked at her and kept kicking your feet to hers, then growing some mushroom on her damn shoe.

“What the fuck Y/N? Why is there a green toadstool on my fucking foot?” She says, angrily as you laugh and fall out of your seat. She tries shaking off the small mushroom with her foot, but then it makes it grow even bigger.

And by the end of the day there is a 20 foot mushroom on her shoe, shading her as she walks home, heading straight for the knife to cut it off.

The thought made her smile a bit. She didn’t want to admit it, she didn’t know how you did it. Or maybe when she kept tapping her pen to purposely annoy you, then when you snapped, light blue sparkles flew out of your mouth and made your voice sound wonky.

Now, you barely looked at her. For the entirety of when you were gone, you had to catch up. She felt a little relieved, you could finally talk to her by asking for notes. Didn’t want to admit the pit in her chest when you asked the person behind you.

I’m sorry, Jenna thinks, she wants to scream at you and apologize until you forgive her.

You ignored her, and she knew she deserved it. She treated you so wrongly. Sure she knew you never mind those moments she looked back to, but she knew that she grew more and more brave with her pranks, growing less and less cautious of even thinking of your safety and feelings.

She hates seeing that look in your eyes as everyone in Hooch’s class shouts, “Up!” with excitement, and you sit there, alone on the bleachers as you watch.

As you watch your whole class fly off, Emma giving you a small, concerned look, and a tight-lipped, forceful smile forms on your lips, assuring you were fine.

She hates the way she can remember the smile leaving your lips as Emma leaves off for the race, then looking down with melancholy traced in your features.

I’m sorry.

The shorter brunette can’t stand the way you look at everyone fly off, knowing that someone that you know won’t be you will probably take your place in Quidditch. She can see it in your eyes, kicking the dirt, hoping that somehow you can kick the pain and broken limbs away.

This time, she can’t tear your eyes away from your tiny figure.

Yet she knows that you won’t even look at her, never noticing the sympathetic stares she gives you, replaced with the ones once filled with competition.

Emma’s voice is dull, almost like she doesn’t want to talk to Jenna after the incident.

“You’re seriously asking me to have Y/N talk to you?” she questions, looking at her with suspicion.

“Please, Em! It’s been a month, and I’ve been trying to apologize.”

The blonde crosses her arms, trying to defend you, “Well what if she doesn’t want to talk to you or apologize?”

“I don’t care!” Jenna throws her arms in the air, “I know what I did was wrong and if I’m being honest, class is getting boring without having her competition and silly remarks behind my back.”

Jenna freezes, what she says kind of sounds weird.

Emma hums, then she turns to Jenna, “So, what are you saying Jenna?”

“I care about her!” She groans, rubbing her cheeks, “I’m starting to think that I’ve cared about her since I met her but didn’t know till my actions got her hurt. I was going to apologize but now I’m shitting desperate. She won’t get out of my mind and.. I don’t know!”

Jenna groans, trying to think of what this was, “I just keep thinking about the things she doesn’t do anymore, and it’s sad not having her by my side. I feel guilty. And I need to apologize even more so she can get out of my head! Em, please, I can’t get that stupid silly cute smile out of my head. And I can’t damn focus knowing that the girl that sits next to me in McGonagall is full on avoiding me!”

She doesn’t realize the way she’s been rambling, she looks at Emma, whose face expression has changed. In some way, she’s slightly having a grin on her face, “You’re in love with her.”

“What? I don’t know! Maybe, I just-I feel bad, and I want to apologize and make it okay again. It’s just so dull and I’ll.. I don’t even fucking know. I just miss her and the way it used to be.”

“You should’ve told me that,” your soft voice sing-songs from behind her, making her tense up and turn around.

“Y/N,” Jenna stutters.

“Jenna,” you mumble, voice slightly breathy.

“I didn’t think you were-” she squeals in surprise as you drag her by the arm, panting softly as you drag her into a room, god who knows what Hogwarts classroom this is.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry, but why are we in someones-mmph.” You seal her lips with a random spell under your lips and you place your finger to her mouth.

You slightly smirk, god she missed it, she looks down at your lips, she rolls her eyes, “Apologize to me and I’ll let you do what you’ve wanted to do.” You undo your spell, taking off your finger from her mouth as she begins to speak.

“Wha?-”

“Go on.”

You were teasing her, and she breathed, “Okay, I’m sorry. For hurting you, I know I went too far,” she was rambling as she speaks a little faster, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just felt more brave as much as I teased you and I know I went too far this time. And I promise I didn’t try to hurt you, I know how much Quidditch meant to you..” she gulps again, taking a breath. “What I did led to a lot of things, and I’ve noticed the way I grew upset when I knew you began to avoid me, and I’ll admit I miss you.” Jenna says the last part hesitantly.

The brunette looked up at you and you were looking at her, hesitant eyes, but almost filled with need? She now noticed the more visible cut on your eye, and you look away, seeing her gaze on the mark you were most insecure on, you cover your face.

“Stop that,” Jenna smacks your hands away and it feels like her hesitation swept away, she slowly reached up to cup your cheeks, in which your uncertainty melted. She looks at the mark, it was better than when she saw you unconscious on the floor. That’s all that matters. She wants to roll her eyes but now she feels weird when she does that.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, “Just a little.”

"I'm sorry about Quidditch."

"I'm still angry about that, my arm should heal soon though, before it starts."

.. An awkward silence passes, then you look down at her pink lips.

Jenna hums, then you tug her closer, making a small whine.

“Please kiss me.”

Jenna’s eyes widen, taking her hands away from your cheeks.

“What?”

“Please,” you plead, your eyes filled with want.

Her eyes flicker from your lips as she cups your cheeks again and brings you to her mouth. As they meet, you’re all small and soft moans, kissing her with need. Hunger. It’s different. Teasing you doesn’t come with words, she’s teasing you with her mouth, feeling the way you grip onto her.

More more more, don’t stop.

You taste exactly how Jenna thought you would, but just so much better. So addicting, it makes her mind spin with you. Coca cola and addictive vanilla. It mixes well with the taste of hers, you let her capture your tongue. It’s feverish, tongue and want combined. She indulges in the way you make a tiny moan as she nibbles your tongue. Your wanting lips push harder to hers, your body pressing against her as you slightly find something to grind against.

It’s heated and different. She tugs you closer, finding it adorable as you pull away for a tiny breath, then continue, like you don’t want to stop feeling her lips on yours. Her hands. Your fingers tugging against her hair.

Long moments after you pull away, you both are panting, your head buried deep into her chest. She rubs your hair.

“I didn’t think you were that experienced,” you whisper.

She rolls her eyes, pressing her lips to your forehead, “I didn’t think you’d pull me into a room and start begging me to kiss you and make out with you.”

“Mm..”

“Well, did my kisses grant your forgiveness for me?

“Maybe.”

“What if I give you another round?”

She smirks, seeing the way you lean back into her.

“Deal.”

She presses her lips that just left yours once again, feeling your hands tangle back into her hair.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x y/n #harry potter au

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nonphoto-blue · 1 month ago

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Lucky Lucky ꕤ Cho Hyun-ju x Reader [1/?]

Read on AO3 Masterlist Summary: After your previous manager runs away to America with the funds meant to kickstart your debut, your band 4tune is left to pick up the pieces in an impending scandal. The new manager, Cho Hyun-ju, says she’ll do everything to ensure your debut is successful, but it’s a long road until she gains your trust, especially when her own secrets come to light. Or, the kpop/krock/band AU no one asked for.

Warnings: Slowwwww burn. Kind of an inherent power imbalance but reader isn't taking bs from anyone, and reader is 20+. Reader is AFAB and uses she/her. She's implied to be Korean/from South Korea but no physical description is used.

A/N: So I've had the horrible idea of a kpop au for Squid Game since the first season came out. Originally I'd thought of a Sangwoo x Reader fic but it felt in bad taste at the time. Season 2 came out and I can't stop thinking about Hyun-ju so uh. You're getting this.

Five years. You’ve been in trainee hell for five years, learning the ins and outs of PR, songwriting, language, appearances, how to fucking smile at a camera when all you wanted to do was sing and play guitar and look out at a crowd with more people than you can count on your hands. All for your dreams to be stolen away, packed up in bags and expedite-shipped to the United States.

If you could go back in time to tell your past self to save herself the trouble and give up music altogether, you’d consider it. Or at least tell her to flip off the agency scout the second he approaches. Sure, you’d still be busking on the street, but you’d be spared this bullshit and continue life with hope still. You don’t want to be an idol. You want to be– you are a musician, and the evidence was going to be your debut.

Your band, 4tune, is slated to record your debut in a month, and begin promotions just a couple months from now, but thanks to your no-good-money-stealing-piece-of-shit ex-manager, the money set aside for appearances and advertising is no longer in the company’s bank account. With grim faces, you, your bandmates, and a few members of the company higher ups gather around a table in an emergency meeting.

“It’s ridiculous,” Se-mi crosses her arms across her chest, huffing her bangs out of her eyes. “What a coward.” She stands, crossing to a floor-length window and staring at the skyline of Mapo-gu, disbelief written on her face.

Your mouth forms a thin line. “Who just… takes the money and runs? How was he allowed to take all of it anyway?”

“That’s all we know,” the CEO, Hwang In-ho, murmurs. He laces his fingers together and scans the rest of the band’s faces as you take in the not-quite-death-sentence he delivered your group. “We’ve got the police in South Korea and the United States investigating, but they haven’t found him yet.”

“So what does this mean for 4tune? I mean, are we… still going to debut?” Young-mi asks.

“We don’t have a manager, we don’t have money, we don’t have a debut.” Jun-hee puts a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes in exasperation.

“Actually,” In-ho raises a finger. “We do have a new manager for you. She couldn’t make this meeting, but she’s coming up from Busan after lunch. You’ll meet her tonight or tomorrow.” He leans forward in his seat, and rests both arms on the table in front of him. “Rest assured, you will debut.”

You can’t help but feel your lips curl into a sneer. A new manager? Who’s to say this one won’t make off with whatever scraps of money are left? You hear Se-mi scoff from the window, her thoughts echoing your own. Jun-hee looks hesitant, but Young-mi looks up at In-ho with hope.

“What’s her name? What’s she like?”

“Cho Hyun-ju. She’s an old acquaintance.” Looking over the group’s faces, In-ho stands, and begins to make his way to the meeting room door. “I’ve known her for a long time. She’s a good person.” Hardly glowing praise, but you suppose anyone would be better than the ex-manager. The other company members follow In-ho out of the room, meeting adjourned, leaving just your group members with their thoughts.

Your gaze lingers on the frosted glass door they left from. “Great. A manager, but no money. She can drive us around and shit, but we have nowhere to go. What’s the point?” Your words are bitter, spat in sorrowful resignation.

Young-mi, ever the optimist, takes your hand in her’s. “Let’s give her a chance. In-ho sajangnim vouched for her, I say we see how she clicks with us before giving up on her.” She smiles meekly at the other members. None of you share her optimism, but with a shared side eye, the rest of you begrudgingly hear Young-mi out and agree.

“Fine,” you offer. “But if she does anything remotely shady I’m clawing my way out of this contract.” ꕤ

Despite the sudden wrench in 4tune’s future plans, you all have a schedule to uphold, so you go through the motions as if nothing was wrong. After a short break for lunch, language classes, pose training, you finally make it to the only part of training that doesn’t feel like a chore: rehearsal as a whole band.

The rehearsal space is intimate; a small room with warm wood-panel flooring and a three-person couch in the corner. Se-mi’s drum kit is already set up on the drum rug, as is Young-mi’s keyboard and three amps, one for Young-mi’s bass, one for Jun-hee’s guitar, and one for yours, as well as a vocal mic on a long arm. Stepping into the space brings an energy you thought would be lost following this morning’s bad news, and you place your guitar’s hard case down with a determined vigor.

You unlatch the case, and pull out your guitar, a Fender Lite Ash Telecaster. The strap rests perfectly on your shoulder, the neck fitting perfectly in your left hand, a guitar pick in your right. The quarter-inch cable plugs into your guitar with a satisfying click and the amp hums to life when you switch it on. You set upon tuning your guitar, but it doesn’t take much adjustment for any member of the band, and soon your group is playing the first notes of what will be your title track for your debut.

It’s an upbeat song, and the lyrics are inherently hopeful and optimistic. You feel the stress pouring out of you as you hear how well the band plays together. From the wailing of Jun-hee’s guitar, to the machine-like precision of Se-mi’s drumming, to the effortless jumping from keys to bass by Young-mi, pride fills your heart knowing that you’re collaborating, and creating something beautiful in spite of everything going wrong.

You play rhythm guitar and sing. Closing your eyes, you pour your heart and soul into the high-energy chorus, the softer verses, and everything in between. As the outro plays out and you all play your final notes, a soft applause that crescendos into a quick flurry of claps breaks through your reverie.

You hadn’t noticed when she came in, but at the door stands an unfamiliar woman. She’s tall, and seems a bit younger than In-ho. Her hair is cut at her shoulders with blunt bangs reaching her eyebrows. She’s dressed well, and she’s not standing timidly per-se, but there’s an awkwardness to how she holds herself, like she’s unsure if she’s allowed in this space.

“I’m sorry,” she smiles at the band. “I was told you were in this practice room and I heard you playing. You all sound amazing.”

Young-mi smiles back. “You must be the new manager! It’s nice to meet you! I’m-”

“Young-mi, right?” Young-mi nods. The woman turns to the drumset, “You’re Se-mi,” to the lead guitarist, “and Jun-hee,” and then she turns to you, and says your name so tenderly, so kindly, every fiber of your being is shouting at you to give her a chance. “And yes, I’m Cho Hyun-ju, your new manager.” ꕤ

Rehearsal stagnates after Hyun-ju’s arrival as the band seems more interested in the new arrival than playing, but you keep your guitar plugged in and guitar strap on. Young-mi puts down her bass and steps away from her keyboard to approach Hyun-ju immediately, Jun-hee following soon after. You pluck out a few notes here and there, trying to at least try to get through your part of the next song, but after Se-mi stands up from her drumset, you give up trying to continue rehearsal.

Hyun-ju seated herself on the couch in the corner. Jun-hee and Se-mi stand in front of her, and Young-mi sits beside her. “I’m excited to work with you all,” Hyun-ju half-bows in her seat. “You sounded amazing playing just now, your debut will be a hit, I can just feel it.”

“We’re happy to have you here too. I’m sure you’ve heard but our last manager flaked out on us.” Se-mi explains. Hyun-ju hums a condolence, eyes casting down to the ground. “We’re almost ready to record our album, so I’m sure you’ll have a lot to do coming up.”

You clear your throat, walking over to the group. “What experience do you have managing?” You don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does. It’s supposed to be a light conversation about her work history, not an interrogation into her credentials. Hyun-ju’s face falters at the stern tone, and you kick yourself internally.

“Managing specifically, I've done most of the tasks individually before. That is, things like schedule management and driving and the like. I do have experience in the music and idol industry outside of management.”

You try to school your expression, you really do, and you pull your lips into a not-quite-smile that ends up looking more like a grimace. “Well then,” you push out, “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

#hyun ju x reader #squid game x reader #squid game #cho hyunju #cho hyun ju x reader #player 120 #player 120 x reader #squid game season 2

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ranposbabe · 7 days ago

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Wrinkled Sheets

pairing: louis james moriarty x fem!reader

summary: louis doesn’t like the fresh sheets wrinkled but you kept provoking him :(

warning: smut, slight mention of voyeurism??, unprotected sex!! he’s sick of your bs

Each morning the same routine occurred.

From the moment Louis woke up as the rays of sun rise sneaked in past the curtains, he’d gather himself up and dress along with making the bed with fresh sheets. He found it somewhat relaxing. A simple not even task completed to start off the uncertain day.

Atlas, one’s tasks are certain to be disrupted when you are around.

“Louis !” You exhaustingly call, practically slouched over standing in the doorway. Your call did nothing but bounce off the walls as he continued to folding the sheets so precisely.

You couldn’t believe it ! You barely could find it within yourself to stay awake at the crack of dawn to even think about the daily chores let alone do them !

“y/n I’m rather busy at the moment.”

He’s polite with his words yet his back remains to yous still and suddenly a devious thought provokes your mind. “Doing what exactly ?” You tease, taking steps forward as you now stood behind him. Your curiousity leads you to stand on your tippy toes in an attempt to look over his broad shoulders. “y/n” Louis sighs, his hand patting out the creases. You could only stare down at his long fingers and the way they-

“Oh !” You gasp, your balance lost like your lucid dreams. You’re quick to fall against his back but not before Louis quick reflective kick in and he turns ever so slightly just to take you into his arms to stop you descending to the floor.

Just a moment everything stops and you feel everything. How both of his hands are placed against your lower and upper back. How even though you don’t dare look up as your heads places against his chest that its pace has indeed increased ever so slightly.

“Careful.” He softly tells you off before letting you go and it’s only when you’re not pressed against Louis, you feel the sudden coldness of the room and it leads you feeling such discomfort. Time to pursue your idea !

Louis stood still clearing his throat as he adjusted his glasses and he was none the wiser as you moved before him.

As soon as the back of your knees collided with the edge of the bed you didn’t hesitate to sit down, crossing your legs in the process.

You look up and you’re clearly not taken back by the irritated look on Louis face. His brows are practically always furrowed when in your presence.

“Get up.” A sigh once again escapes his lips, staring you down. You take on the challenge.

“Why should I ?” You tilt your head, resting down back on your elbows. He still stands above you, not threatened by your game. That is until your legs are uncrossed and ever so slightly spread and Louis realises that he’s standing ever so close to between your legs.

The faint blush on his cheeks and ears gives him away.

But Louis is quick to compose himself when he sees your elbows creasing the sheets and now he’s been set off. Poor you.

“Enough !” He finally snapped, his tone sharp with warning. His scarlet eyes filled with temptation. You will admit, his tone made a whimper out of you but when you stared up into those eyes you knew deep within you that he was welcoming this challenge.

He continue to glare right down at you, you’re not sure whether he was in contemplation or if this was your punishment. Either way, you were starting to feel uneasy about the answer that you were guaranteed to find out.

“Louis I-

You try to sit up yet as if a switch had been turned, you’re pushed down by the young Moriarty and soft lips are pressed against yours which you greedily accept. Strands of blond tickle your forehead as his hands grip onto the sheets beside your head. Creasing them far more than you’ve done.

He pulls back but before you can question him, he pulls his glasses off, throwing them above you onto the pillows.

Whenever the glasses come off that was when you understood to keep quiet.

His lips now more eager are once again on yours and you return the favour by the opening your mouth to invite his tongue.

It is when Louis reaches down to pick up your leg by the back of your knee that your skirt rises, that you realise the obvious.

“Louis !” Your eyes widened. “The door is still open !”

Anyone could walk by at any moment and the would see the disgrace of yourself. This seemed to only rile Louis up even more, you could tell by the way his teeth dragged his lip without a single care. With nothing to say, you could only pout. His kisses are moved down to your exposed neck. Sooner or later your neck wouldn’t be the only thing out in the open for anyone walking by to view.

Your eyes couldn’t help but follow his movements. How his fingertips rested around your throat, not squeezing but reminding you what he’s capable off. How the light purple and blue veins look exquisite and decorate his surprisingly smooth hands. His other hand was busy pulling up your skirt that was getting in the way of his desire. Your cheeks were warm, in an instant the buttons to your blouse were opening and your legs displayed which Louis rubbed your thigh with his remaining hand yet he was fully clothed, not even his bow tie was disturbed. It felt like a silly game that really only you were playing, following along to his rules. He was the real winner here.

While his addictive kisses which turned your skin into shades of purple moved down to your chest, you sneakily took the chance to move your seemingly stiff hands down to his belt.

You barely got it open before your hands were ripped away. “Are you going to continue to misbehave?” Louis questions you all the while he tugs down your undergarments, your skirt still ruffled around your waist. “Well ?” His movements stop. It all depends on your pretty lips to move.

“Um.” The embarrassment which prior was nonexistent is evident of your reddened face. You could feel his nails begin to dig into the skin beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“I’ll behave.” Your heart is thumping out of your chest and the sight alone of your pleading eyes of submission makes Louis weak in the knees. Quite literally.

Your back arches from the bed, sheets creasing the more your head sways back as your hands move from the sheets to Louis’ hair as he places delicate but long fulfilling kisses on your cunt. The more Louis licks and even bites the more you forget yourself and your lustful cries can be heard outside of the room where the door is wide open as ever.

It’s when Louis’ teeth have a slight nip at your clit, he looks up and those scarlet eyes can see the satisfaction on your dazed face.

He pulls back, looking down at his glistening prize. Not only are the sheets now destroyed in wrinkles from you griping so tight but also due to your soaking wet cunt that’s non stop dripping well because of Louis’ skills.

You don’t even get a second to come down from your high as his mouth is replaced with his cock. His cock so deep in you he snugly fits perfectly. Even if it takes you a minute and a gasp to adjust to his long girth. Every fast thrust, his cock touches your cervix, intending to leave bruises just like your neck. All you can do is cling onto him by his clothed shoulders as he uses your cunt to his advantage. Of course you always have to irritate him. Of course you’re delaying him of his tasks. Always you and your desirable cunt getting in his way !

Well he won’t have it anymore ! The sheets at this stage are done for ! Anymore mess to be made will be put onto you. Quite literally !

As you both reach your high together, it was rightfully Louis’ turn to make a mess and of course he would all over your exposed chest and blouse. He was fully dressed, he can’t make a mess of his own clothes now can he ?

The switch had been turned again, no longer under your enchantment. Louis gathers himself quickly, adjusting his pants as you’re left covered in his mess. “I need to prepare tea.” Louis states, his hands fumbling in an effort to fix his crooked bow tie. You can only stare in, not even budging.

He points to the sheets, his demands never tire. “I want them replaced when I come back. If not you’ll obey the repercussions.” Like that Louis bolts out the door, behind on his daily routine, not even sparing you a glance.

All you’re left to do is pathetically lie there, panting away in a useless attempt to catch your breath. But that’s doesn’t mean you follow instructions. You continue to lie there eagerly staring out at the open doorway, waiting for the repercussions.

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gobitobi · 3 months ago

Note

Rodrick x fem or gen reader

Just some bf/relationship head cannons (and maybe some drabbles you have for him..🤗)

and ur intro is soo real making gear is so fun hard work but yk! 💗

RAAAAHH A RODRICK ASK 👹 here’s a little drabble i wrote for him a while ago, i can do a list of headcanons though soon if you want :]

enjoy!!!!

so we all know he’s not great around the people he likes, like accidentally embarrassing himself with the stuff he does or says

but when he’s talking to you about his band, he accidentally fumbles and goes “our number one song is called ‘exploded diper’”

right when he knows he slipped up, you start laughing and say “sounds like a song i’d put on repeat!”

since then he’s absolutely SMITTEN by you. he found the one who can handle his bs 😍

one day he asks you out, but he doesn’t exactly SAY that he wants to take you on a date, he just comes up to you and goes “plainview’s annual fair is opening on friday, wanna go? you and me?” and when you ask who else is going he gets all flustered and says “well, i just thought you and i could go and spend some time together! you know? get to know each other a bit more without the boys around!” but you see RIIIGHT THROUGH HIM 😭 (he’s oblivious it’s adorable)

so when that day comes around, he’s obviously super nervous.

first thing he proposes when you enter the fair is playing the games!

so he goes up to one of the game booths where he’s given three darts and he has to throw them at the balloons in order to win a prize

he does miss the first two but gets the last one!! that earns him a little beanie baby cat. he hands it to you. “i don’t really have a purpose for this,” he says nervously. you smile and thank him, moving on.

you end the night with him driving you back to your place in his löded diper van, blasting heavy metal

he pulls up to the front of your house. it’s dark outside, you’ve been out for about 6 hours at this point. it’s way past your curfew.

you’re just about to get out of the van when rodrick grabs your wrist, stopping you. “wait, i, uhm…” he starts, but his voice trails off. he just stares at you. his grip on your wrist loosens. “actually, never mind. goodnight, [name.]” he sets his hands back on the wheel and looks forward.

you suddenly feel a surge of confirdence come over you. before you hop out of the car, you grab his chin between your thumb and pointer finger and pull him towards you, kissing him lovingly for a few seconds. you pull back and smile. “good night, rodrick. thanks for taking me out,” you say before you hop out of the van and walk to your door.

he’s STUNNED. the whole drive back to his house seems like forever because he can barely focus on the road.

you… just kissed him. you, the person he had been crushing on since he first laid eyes on you. you made the first move. god, it was a dream come true for him.

he comes into his house with a stupid grin on his face. “welcome home, Rodrick, how was the fair?” susan asks. she’s in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner. rodrick just says, “oh, uhm… it was great. had a great time. i’m tired now, so i’m gonna go to sleep. good night mom.” he kicks his shoes off at the door and darts up the stairs to his room.

at the top of the stairs, greg stands outside of his room with his arms crossed. the brothers make eye contact for a few seconds before greg speaks. “you kissed [name,] didn’t you?” he asks. rodrick lets out a grunt as his response as he stomps into the attic, aka his room.

for the rest of the night, he lays in bed, unable to sleep. he’s SO excited to see you again. to kiss you again.

#rodrick heffley #devon bostick #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick fanfic #rodrick rules #diary of a wimpy kid #fanfic #hes so fine #i need him carnally #hes so FINE

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pedge-page · 1 year ago

Text

Joel dealing with preggo wife #7. 5 Special where Joel DOES get you the dog

Decided Olive from the Esquire shoot will be Spoon because LOOK AT THAT PRECIOUS BABY

Notes: Joel's wifu is never not gonna be pregnant but hypothetically this is a snippet if Joel does decide to follow through after his promise in part 7. Again, not part of main timeline or series but would take place in future after the baby is born:

- - - -

Flash forward after your pregnancy, when your healthy little girl is already over one-year-old and Joel can just now barely trust Tommy to babysit her without assistance …

True to his word, Joel brings you to the local pound. You bounce giddily in the passenger seat of the truck with more energy than you’ve had in the last 18 months.

"Ya know, you're almost more excited to get a dog than when we brought our own baby home."

"Gee I wonder if it had anything to do with a 9 hour labor and then splitting my vagina apart, not sleeping for 3 days and then having to wear a pad the size of Africa as she cried the entire ride home?"

He shivers at the thought, remembering how your temper due to sleep deprivation was at its worst yet. "Yeah. Yeah good point."

You both peruse through the sad, shaking little animals behind the serilized gates, and you almost want to burst into tears and leave. But he takes your hand and you both listen closely as the handler explains each story. How they were rescued, their recovery stories, certain needs and comforts, whether they’d be comfortable with children.

You find one who’s chipper to have an audience today, eagerly sniffing you through the gate and wagging his tail.

“Oh, Joel!”

Joel glances at the clipboard on his cage, noting the name: Tommy.

“Hell no.”

“Oh come on, he’s perfect! Already part of the family!”

“Aint letting a dog named after my brother lick your face, hump your leg, and steal you away from me every night. No way.”

The handler comes over and apologies: “Tommy actually already has a family coming to pick him up tomorrow, so he’s not available.”

“Ha!” Joel puts his hands on his hips with a sassy head tilt. “Good—for the dog of course,” he adds to the annoyed handler.

Then Joel finds an anxious little dog whos previous owner had died with no one to look after her. You two sit in the room for a while, quiet and calm and patient until the mut finds the courage, tail tucked between her legs, to rest her chin on your knee. You come in and visit Spoon, as she's appropriately named given how much she likes to conform to your leg and rest, every day for the week before you're absolutely sure she's coming home. And just like that, you two adopt her into the Miller house.

At first Spoon isn't sure of the new home, and especially unsure of the interesting smells coming from the small human in the crib but eventually she quietly relaxes.

Joel was pretty quick to establish rules that would be absolute BS.

"No dog on the couch" well that went out the window week 1. "No dog on the bed" yeah fuck that by week 3. "No food of the plate" bitch you JUST saw him give her the rest of his lasagna.

You had to scold him about giving her too much shit food for her health.

By week four, you started to notice that Spoon is taking a real liking to Joel.

More than she likes you. And Joel is eating it up. Belly rubs, cuddles, even training responses are better suited with Joel than with you. Spoon pretty much only comes to you when she feels like it, never when called. Never sits for you. She's sweet, but pretty much ignores you. And it's kinda fucking--upsetting that your dog is stealing your mans.

Until you find out the dog speaks Spanish.

"That's not fair!" You shout to Joel as Spoon excellently heeds and sits to Joel's every command, tail whipping excitedly with each praise--all in Spanish.

"Its not my fault, honey."

"You KNEW"

"How would I have known?"

Ok, fair point.

And you're kinda pissed but it's so adorable watching Joel really love and train this dog--basically everything he said he wouldn't do cuz it was supposed to be "your" dog.

And while you were scared to introduce her to the baby, Spoon acted like a pro--extremely gentle, happy tamed wags as her big head and wide eyes perched on her petite feet and watched with curious quiet eyes for hours as she slept soundly. She adapted to true guard duty better than even Joel, especially when you would breastfeed, or burp her, or just sway her in your arms. Spoon watched and kept a tight perimeter that not even Joel could intercept when it was Baby duty.

Then one day on her own, while you're reading a book on the couch, Spoon drags her body over and rests on your lap. Always looks at you, presses her snout into your stomach and lies there for hours. And it's so cute, until she's preventing Joel from coming close to you, growling protectively, and keeps being a guard dog for you whether the baby was there or not.

"The hell is wrong with her?" Joel asks, being shoved off to the less-than-deseriable side of the couch.

You shrug and stroke Spoon's ears.

It's not until you go to the doctor with woozy symptoms and an upset stomach that you figure out why Spoon's behavior towards you changed:

You're pregnant again.

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thelaundrybitch · 9 months ago

Text

Chopsticks - Part 2

Part 1

TURTLEDOVES!!!

HERE IT IS!!!

Sorry, Blurple lovers... Leonardo weaseled his way back to being the one and only 💙

So, please enjoy some quality time with Leo 😘

TW: Sushi and a thirsty bitch. Proceed forward at your own risk.

And as always, my ninja turts are aged up to 30+ years. Don't be weird.

Please don't steal my work. Reblogging for others to enjoy is highly encouraged, though🤩

18+ content - for mature audiences only

Chopsticks - Part 2

Thankfully, living in the lair wasn't terrible since it was like living in a 5-star hotel. You'd been there for a little over a year now since "The incident."

Things had been good between you and the turtles since all the drama had finally calmed down. Donnie still hadn't backed down from his sudden onset of flirting since the kitchen debacle, but it was more tolerable.

As always, Mike was full of fun-loving energy. Always finding ways to make you smile and laugh. Quick to share a video game with you, quicker to share a tasty snack. He was your friend. Your brother, even.

Raph was Raph. Serious about his fitness regimen, while also entirely too busy playing Splinter's caretaker to even attempt to entertain any kind of drama or other BS… regarding anyone. Poor guy seriously needed a vacation. And a woman.

Leo was still Prince Charming. And honestly, you could never get a good read on him. Your heart had and always would belong to him, but you were sure he wasn't interested in a romantic relationship with you… especially after all the Donnie drama.

But you kept hoping. Hoping that his casual flirting actually meant more than he let on. Or that, maybe, all those light touches and soft whispers might lead to more feelings on his end.

Because good God… He was killing you.

You were currently sitting at the table enjoying a cup of herbal tea Leo had made for you.

About 45 minutes ago.

You were stalling.

Secretly hoping he would come back in and join you, but that looked to be a bust.

Sighing disappointedly as you got up to bring your cup to the sink, Leo walked in with a bag.

"Oh! There you are! I was looking for you!" He exclaimed, his whole face brightening with a smile, his eyes sparkling as the lighting hit them just right.

God, he was beautiful.

"Oh, sorry. I was just finishing my tea," you answered, smiling back at him and lifting the small cup, attempting to swallow the nervous energy that the swarm of butterflies in your stomach had managed to swirl up.

"Oh.” It was a concerned statement as that beautiful smile you loved so much disappeared from his face. “Was it alright? It took you a long time to finish it…" he inferred, brow ridge furrowed in dismay as he stepped toward you with his hand out like he was going to take the cup and test it for quality.

"It was delicious!" You responded quicker than intended, brows hitting the ceiling, one hand up placatingly while the other moved the cup from his reach. "I was just really enjoying it. It was almost meditative for me."

It wasn't a lie. You just happened to be "meditating" about him. But he didn't need to know that.

"Did you need me for something? You said you were looking for me?" You asked before he could inquire about the meditation comment.

"Yes!" He exclaimed excitedly. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me for lunch, actually!" He remarked, holding out the brown paper bag towards you. "You know, if you're hungry…"

"I'd love to! What did you get?" You inquired, walking to the sink to wash out your dirty cup, still looking at him as your smile threatened to split your face in two.

"It's a surprise," he told you with that cute boyish smile of his. "I'm gonna set it up in the Tatami room. Would you mind getting us some drinks?"

"Absolutely! Water with ice and some lemon?" You recalled, knowing his preferences well at this point.

He smiled at you kindly, "Yes, thank you. Oh, and do you mind waiting here for me until I come back to get you? Please?"

"Sure," you agreed, brows furrowed as you looked at him skeptically, pausing before you reached into the cabinet to grab two glasses.

With a curt nod, he hurried out of the kitchen and across the hall to the Tatami room, closing the doors behind him gently. And you couldn't help but wonder what he was up to, acting all nervous and un-Leo-like.

Just as you finished slicing the lemon and adding it to the edges of your water glasses, Leo stepped back into the kitchen.

"Ready?" He asked, clenching and unclenching his fisted hands repeatedly as he stepped back and forth nervously.

You smiled kindly and nodded, still pondering over his odd behavior while also trying to put him at ease.

Outstretching his arm in an invitation to go ahead of him, you stepped forward to take the lead. Before you passed by him, however, he took one of the glasses of water that you were carrying and followed closely behind.

As you reached your destination, he hurriedly reached around you and opened the Tatami room door. Looking back at him, he smiled and signaled for you to enter the room.

You stepped inside a dim, candlelit room, where a variety of sushi was spread out on the table.

"It's beautiful, Leo," you whispered, looking up at him where he stood behind you, his plastron barely a breath from your body.

He looked down at you and chuckled, "Well, I was hoping it looked delicious, but I'll take beautiful," he teased you as his free hand made contact with your lower back.

Heat crept up your neck toward your face, and butterflies tickled your belly as his hand slid from your back to your hand so he could help you to the table to sit. You steadied your breathing the best you could, hoping he wouldn't notice the fast, trembling breaths.

Instead of sitting across from you as you had expected him to do, he sat down directly next to you. Surprised at how close he was, you couldn’t help but watch as he grabbed a plate and filled it up for himself.

Eyes locked on yours as he looked over at you, he asked, "May I?" As he picked up your plate.

Blinking a few times before what he had said actually registered, you nodded as your stomach did a half dozen somersaults, one right after the other, and you thought to yourself that this very much felt like a date—a romantic one.

Giving you a sexy smirk, he paused, making deliberate selections as he filled your plate before putting it in front of you with a set of chopsticks.

Oh, no.

He grabbed his own chopsticks and started eating, as you sat and looked at your set like they were laced with the plague.

After about four bites, he stopped and looked at you, brow ridge furrowed and head slightly cocked to one side. "Everything alright?" He asked, studying your features.

You let out a defeated sigh. "I don't know how to use those," you confessed, slightly embarrassed as you pointed to your foreign utensils.

"Here, like this," he instructed, showing you how to hold and use them, demonstrating with his own set in his hands.

After five minutes of hell and some stifled giggles from him, he suggested, "I have an idea."

Standing up from where he sat beside you, he walked out of your view. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, you felt him sit behind you, his thighs straddling your hips as he laid his long legs out straight beside yours under the table.

Eyes wide, your breath hitched as you felt his plastron touch your back.

Please don't pass out.

You tried to steady your breathing as you felt his arms come around you on either side to pick up your chopsticks.

"Like this," he whispered, his warm breath caressing your ear as he fixed the sticks in your dominant hand.

You swallowed hard. "K." It was the only thing you could make out, and just as you feared, it came out in a trembling breath.

He kept his hand around yours as he brought the chopsticks to your plate to pick up a piece of sushi, then brought it to your mouth. You opened your mouth, and he placed the food inside gently.

"Good, right?" He breathed, voice low and smooth as his lips touched the outer edge of your ear.

"Mmm," you hummed quietly, barely tasting the food as he picked up another piece.

Your gaze followed his motions as you watched him use your hand, still encased by his, slowly bringing the chopsticks to his mouth and feeding himself.

When your innocent observing turned into full-on gawking as you looked up at him, a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You gonna finish that?" He teased with raised eyebrow ridges as he nodded his head at you and looked at your mouth, licking his lips.

You cleared your throat and continued to chew, your face growing as hot as the summer sun.

He chuckled, and you felt his lips on your ear again, "Did you know that sushi is considered an aphrodisiac?"

You shook your head in response as you attempted to swallow your mouthful of food.

Spinning the chopsticks so they were being held by the grace of only one of his fingers, he leaned forward to grab your glass, handing it to you as he saw your struggle to swallow, "Relax," he said softly, his other hand resting on your bicep, giving it a small squeeze.

You chugged a couple of mouthfuls of water, forcing the lump of food down your esophagus to hopefully squash the butterflies that had seemingly multiplied. Tenfold.

However, the moment you set the glass back down on the table, Leo took the opportunity, deciding to continue in his onslaught of lusty torture.

As you placed your water glass back down, you felt his hand move to your hip. The intimacy of the action caused you to sit up straight.

"Easy," he whispered. "I'm not gonna bite you," he practically purred, lightly trailing his snout down the side of your neck, then back up to your ear. "Do you want more?"

Holy shit, yes.

You nodded, letting out a hard breath of air.

"What would you like more of, love?" his voice husky, his lips ghosting over your pulse in a restrained kiss.

Unable to breathe, nevermind speak, you pushed your hips back between the apex of his thighs, where the unmistakable outline of his growing erection against your backside ignited the fire between your own.

You hoped the action was enough of an explanation because you were positive that you wouldn't be able to form a coherent sentence at this point.

He dropped the chopsticks and used both hands to pull your hips flush to his so your back was now completely flat against his plastron. His hand found its way under the front of your shirt and made its way quickly to a hardened nipple.

A small gasp left your lips as he trailed kisses down your neck. "I lied," he breathed out. "I need to taste you," he growled, his tongue making contact with your collarbone and his lips closing on the skin as he sucked.

Hard.

"Lied?" Your question came out as a moan, pulling a guttural groan from him.

"Yes, I am going to bite you,” He growled in your ear, both hands now tight on your hips. “But only if you want me to, love," he added, a bit of uncertainty laced in his voice as his grip loosened to give you an out if you wished.

Without a thought, you nodded frantically, a trembling “Yes” being whispered to the empty portion of the room. One of his arms moved around your middle while one of his legs pushed the pair of you away from the table.

Big hands moving over your body, he spun you around, manhandling you until he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Straddling him.

Placing your hands on his chest in feverish shock, you felt his heart hammering under his plastron. And the intimate position allowed you to get a good look at him in the low lighting. His eyes were completely blown black, his lips slightly swollen from loving you.

His hands came up, pulling your face to his. One of his thumbs moved to your chin, pulling your mouth open just as his tongue found its way through your lips. Devouring kisses, as if it were you he had planned on having for lunch instead, his tongue exploring every inch. With a bit of suction, he pulled away, catching your bottom lip between his teeth.

You were unable to silence the whimper his sensuous affection had drawn out, and honestly, you couldn't care less. Your need for him had you grinding your hips down against his rock-hard member reflexively, a lascivious groan ripping from his throat in response.

"Jebus, what did they put in that sushi, and where can I get some?" Exclaimed Mike right before slamming the tatami room door, cackling loudly as he took off before his eldest brother could maim him.

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letters-of-libertas · 11 months ago

Text

Energy to carry as a single childfree woman

Summary here.

Be more self reliant

You dont have to do everything on your own but you need to be able to count on yourself because for the most part that's all you'll have even as you're around others.

Have more intent with actions

Time & energy is valuable. Where you pour these things into steer the course of your life. Give your time & energy to things that help you (and other likeminded women if you want). You dont have to analyse every action you take but occasionally check in with how/if the actions you're taking are helping to build a foundation for your life as a single childfree woman. Things like donating to female centric causes, improving yourself so you can give yourself (& other women) more, organising/engaging in female centric women only spaces - even if they're just online, goes a long way to set the scene. Even indulging in your hobbies. Dont waste your time on things that wont help you or your motives.

Be more resourceful

Contrary to popular belief this lifestyle isn't a walk in the park, there's a lot more you have to account for especially with a level of reduced support. Being able to adapt/improvise + think ahead to mitigate problems will serve you long term. Also generally building up your resources will make getting through hard times easier.

Living my truth > proving my truth

You dont need others stamp of approval to live this way - just get started ! Convincing others is a waste of time your actions (& results) will speak for you anyways.

Reduce giving benefit of doubt

I once saw a quote "giving others benefit of doubt has never benefitted me" and it rings so true. Giving people benefit of doubt rarely ever works in your favour, the red flags that are downplayed often come back to bite you when you least expect it so trust your instincts on matters. If something is off about something or someone; start backing up. Also pure naïvety is rare, people often know more than they let on so trust + act on your instincts on matters if something feels off.

Be proactive

Instead of just constantly reacting to everything around you; take action no matter how small, it'll pay off more than just outrage. Spend less time on social media reacting to the never ending evil of xys and spend more time building for yourself. Social media can be informative but it can also be an echo chamber that breeds reactionary politics which doesn't move things forward. Ik this is ironic because you're reading this on social media but I'm not saying get rid of it all, just reduce your time on it - particularly around reading & reacting to maIe evil. Focus on tangible things in your life you can control & build instead for yourself and womankind.

Invest in indifference

Taking everything to heart will hurt you. Constant anger/hatred to maIes & their bs is still centering them especially if all you do is react. I'm not saying completely ignore it as they target us & a level of awareness is important, but dont let these feelings consume you. Being indifferent will let you look at things at a face value & make more levelled judgement. It helped my mental health a lot in regards to the climate to grow indifferent, this includes towards maIe identified women and even other types of discrimination like racists, ableists, etc. All theory around maIe violence essentially boils down to them being dangerous parasitic terrorists to not be trusted. I move with this & go. I see through them, I dont argue or waste unnecessary emotional energy on them, I dont care for them to understand me, I dont care to prove them wrong (bc in the end it wont matter all you do is give them more cards to play with; this system isnt erected through logic but violence), I have other stuff in my life to focus on. I cant help the way the world is I can only focus on myself & my actions. Typically the best comebacks arise when you dont give a shit. It wont happen in a day but learn to manage your feelings. Be indifferent to what you cant control, flower what you can control. These comments from the female separatist subreddit explain this well.

Learn to prioritise

Contrary to popular belief we can't have it all. Some are able to do so because they've got wives or staff covering sectors of their lives so they can pour more time into other aspects of their lives like business or leisure. But you wont have that privilege rn so some things will have to take a hit. This is also why you need to be selfish with your time. Things like being resourceful to automate/delegate tasks will buy you time but it's still important to be selfish with your time because as you put time in one area, another area loses time. You need to pick what matters. You cannot give your time away to everyone; make time for yourself & your objectives.

Less theory more action

Having a basis of theory/belief is a good place to start but dont get stuck there.

It's okay to be wrong

Mistakes will be made. Experience is how we learn and grow. Go about your business unabashedly.

Obviously not an exhaustive list but these are some main points that come to mind.

#female separatist #female separatism #wgtow #blackpill feminism #wineauntmovement #many tend to shy away from the single childfree lifestyle bc the traditional map/railguards aren't there but thats the fun part of it #wine aunt #childfree

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tarotmundomonde · 6 months ago

Text

You & Them Next 2 weeks love reading

pick a number 1-5 OR an emoji 😡 🕵️ 🤹 🤷‍♀️ 🏍️

(ps. this reading is for practice and for fun)

1.😡 It's very interesting, because you two don't seem to experience the current situation in the same way. Your person comes through as genuinely liking you and enjoying your company and they want to show you that. Obviously the details depends on your current level of your connection, but this could be like someone wanting to make a move, to flirt with you. But if you are already kinda seeing each other, they like it as it is and they wanna have fun with you, go on dates and kiss and flirt. But you seem to come through as thinking about, what's in it in this relationship for you. And you don't seem to think that you are getting, what you need nor what you want from this. You seem to think it's rather a waste of your time. You might be literally angry, but it looks like you don't want to tell them and that is leading to major disappointments on your part. Because your person is actually open to communicate, to have a more serious toned conversation with you, if only you allowed that to take place. The person on your mind notices more things than you'd think they do. The foundation of this connection is mutual attraction and mutual success. It means it has great potential to be amazing. But looking at the cards, you might be sabotaging it big time. Nonetheless, the outcome is that there is potential to still fix and reconnect and rebuild this connection. But it requires self-confidence and open communication.

2.🕵️ Ooh, this is intense. It kinda looks like a trigger point, where this connection is making you deal with bs and pushes you towards active healing. You two react in opposite ways to this. If they recognize they have fears, etc, to deal with, they seem to just push it away in order to maintain emotional stability, to feel good. Whereas you face it and go through transformation and deeper level healing. The person on your mind will be on the move, but possibly they have other options they are keeping up as well. There is hesitancy in fully moving forward towards you. You know, like taking one step and then pulling back and so on. They are careful somehow. Whereas you.. major healing. You seem to be open, but it looks like you are starting to think or realize this won't really work out. Especially, if you know or will know this person is exploring other options, it looks like your perspective on this connection will change and you'll find yourself thinking it's not what you want in love and that it's time to learn to say no. As for the next two weeks, the outcome is potential and kinda just waiting to see what happens next. To take one step at a time.

3.🤹 Alright, right now everything is on pause. You are coming through as rock solid, firm foundation and beliefs and not settling for less. Whereas the person on your mind loves you but has chosen to not be a part of your life. They have stepped out of this connection, whereas you are simply saying that if they miss you, they know where to find you. But what's weird about this is that they truly desire you and want you. It looks like stepping out of your connection makes them realize how badly they truly want to be with you. Because it looks like they really want to reconcile with you and to bond with you. But instead of actually making it known to you, they just withdraw and keep watching you. They are looking for something. Whereas you are stepping into your own personal power. It looks like the doors of love and romance are opening up for you. You know what you want and will not settle for less. You will simply be you and shine your light. And you are getting noticed. The thing is, if someone chooses to reject you, then you'll have someone new coming in, but someone will choose you. Nonetheless, for now it looks like, if the person on your mind withdraws and gets over you, so will you. You'll be free and have new options coming in in love for you. Or this person will make a move on you and you'll find out your current options in love and then anything can happen. That's kinda the thing for this pile. As for now, anything can happen, but personally good things are coming your way.

4.🤷‍♀️ It looks like you two are on different paths in regards to your connection. The person on your mind seems to be rather focused on themselves and their personal happiness. They seem to socialize and keep their options open. It definitely looks like multi-dating or every weekend new romantic company or quick flings. So right now it's more about dating around for them. They could see you as a possible option, but there is no intention to make any decisions towards commitment at this time. Whereas you look rather displeased and even if you'd feel that there is some unfinished business, you seem to disconnect from this connection. This pile seems to be divided into two. Those of you that are into manifestation, perhaps you will be trying to manifest this person to come to you. Whereas those not into manifestation will be pulling back and focusing on yourself and on healing yourself. It feels like you will be accepting the situation and find peace from within. It's like you are stepping into your heart center, recognizing your needs in love and you are stepping into this receptive energy. The cards are showing change coming, but the outcome for now is unknown.

5.🏍️ This pile is quite complicated, so I'll try to simplify it a bit. It seems there is something about this connection that is less than favourable for you. The person on your mind is coming through as feeling strong and empowered and very independent. This person's priority is the self and their own personal needs. This person seems to have quite a fertile time going on for them, where they easily get what they want and attract. This person could even have kids with someone else or simply maybe currently they are into sleeping around. Their energy towards you is that they don't need to explain themselves nor bring you any clarity to the table. They just do them and live their life and it's enough that they feel personally in control of their love life. Whereas looking at you, whether you are possibly a couple, just friends or friends with benefits, you seem to have romantic feelings for them and to have wishes in regards to your connection. But it looks and feels very hopeless. You could feel like you are dead to them, have no real significance. That they are keeping you out of their life. And the cards show that the way to go about this is to accept and rather take some distance from them to gain your own personal control back.

#tarot #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #daily tarot

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lovelytayforce · 3 months ago

Note

since you're doing hcs

HCs for the 13 primes in 200 words or less so it's challenging 🫢

Bro thinks Imma FOLLOW THE RULES WHEN RULES ARE MEANT TO BE BROKEN Anyways, ladies and non binaries; let's get this show started!

I've actually written very small vignettes for the 13 for a RP for the people who are out of the loop, no they aren't published but maybe one day I can post em if someone asks nicely 😘 I'd have to explain the context of it all but basically I made this whole sim area based off of Elysia realm; that game mode left a lasting impact on me and it made sense for the Prime's to enter their wisdom as data that embody who they are when they are updated for wisdom is not given, it's earned through mistakes and strife in life. Anyways let's start from the top with my favorite of the Primes: Onyx Prime He doesn't get a lot of screentime which sucks cause he's like THE SHEPARD of the group: He should be guiding Optimus more than Alpha Trion does come on writers THATS HIS WHOLE THING LEADING! (IDW was Shockwave so that doesn't count) I need more of his friendly and kind hearted personality to shine in the main series so BADLY and like again I'm the Predacon addict; let him be my token PREDACON 😭 Anyways onto HCs - with his Triptych Mask; I often give him the aesthetic of opening doors to many places across the universe since he's so spiritually connected to nature and life as it is, he basically has a "Tunnel of light" that can not only guide him but the souls of dearly departed or maybe a lost living soul looking for a reason to keep going forward. - He wanted to live peacefully on Cybertron for a very long time but alas Cybertron wasn't the best place for predacons and maximals with their connection with nature and as transformers I feel he would gladly take the call to transform, adapt and evolve for the betterment of their people - Also, he smelt that functionism bs a mile away and decided to cut his losses while he could. His kids come first! - Can be considered the most motherly and emotionally aware of the group, he's got a good head on him which is why he's so well liked 💙 - He's best friends with predaking in all continuities idc they always find each other - Despite being apart of the Well of Allsparks, he has a physical form but it takes a lot of energy to stabilize so don't expect long talks at night. Onto my second favorite- Quintus Prime! Can I just mention how beautiful this design is? He's so pretty I love him 💙

I never really agreed with him being unimaginative considering he created life but I understood the perfectionist plights he held as for idealism, where his concepts really that unrealistic? I loved questioning that because despite his good intentions he made probably one of the worst species alive but it brings about a funny thing about life; you can't mold individuals with free will to your vision. One way or another this would have unfolded considering many would do anything to reach their god much less creator to understand their purpose in life. okay no more philosophy, lets move on to those hcs~ - After many of his failed attempts at making allies for Cybertronians he withheld himself in the land of his daydreams casting aside his perfectionist habits, he paints. He creates for the joy of it, for within a dream nothing can escape his control. It gives him time to think things out and truly understand how life exists and the beauty of nature that once puzzled him that his brother Onyx knew so well. It's a slow process but it opens this scientist's horizons beyond anything even primus could anticipate! You already know whose my next favorite is if you know me and my love for Transformers Cybertron and Armada those shows were my CHILDHOOD BRO Let's set the timer for Vector Prime! ⏰ YOU'LL ALWAYS BE ICONIC QUEEN THE FIRST PRIME I EVER STANNED OPTIMUS PRIME WHO /jk

I subscribe to the majority of his Ask Vector Prime answers which as follows: He's a fan of the dinobots He used to "boogie down" with a disco ball. Despite having traveled far and wide, he could not see why kids loved Cinnamon Toast Crunch. If he had to choose a beast mode, it would be a large sea mammal. Everyone he ever cares about will grow old and die in what, to him, is just the pulse of a spark. Sometimes, he feels alone even when he's in a crowd. His favorite human movie was Back to the Future, due to the performance of lead actor Eric Stoltz. He revealed himself as a Point One Percenter (after the Shroud).

Please read what this man talks about on tfwiki, he's a national treasure who brings me joy during my great depression. Anyways onto my own hcs 🥰

He's a stickler for being on time! Don't you dare be late! You're wasting his precious time!Vector Prime - The clock that always strikes on time!He's the first POP (Point One Percenter) and was the mold for many POP's in the future such as Skywarp As a being held by the constraints of time, even though he wants to save as many universes as he can, he simply cannot; he's stuck between a physical form and a form distorted by the whims of time and space what little control he has is simply a delicacy that must be treasured with the utmost care. He keeps small trinkets from his favorite universes and planets and leaves clocks around for the sole purpose of helping those looking for his helping hand. Also, I just think it'd be neat to find a giant clock and if you strike right for midnight he'll appear!!

The rest are in the reblogs. 👏🏽

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late-to-the-party-81 · 9 months ago

Text

The sweetest dessert

AN: I’m back on my subby Bucky bs, so have this little appetiser to meet one of the squares on my June-iverse card.

Not beta’d, so there’s no-one to blame except me.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Master list | Into an Alternate June-iverse Master List | BaBB Masterlist

Summary: There is more than one perk to having a personal chef, especially one as sweet and eager to please as James.

Relationship: CEO Reader x Private Chef Bucky

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: Chef AU, Soft Dark (ish) Reader, Power Imbalance, Employer/Employee relationship, Subby Bucky, Soft Dom Reader, Sub Space, Praise Kink, Oral sex (F receiving), Coming untouched, Lack of aftercare, Implied future sexy times.

You smiled to yourself as the door closed behind your last guest. Your dinner party had been a roaring success and you were thrilled. As the CEO for a large tech firm, one of the ways of wooing clients and securing new investment was still the good old ‘schmooze’ - inviting select people to dine with you in your home. And it wasn’t as though it was that much stress for you - preparing these sorts of things was what you paid people to do.

Making your way towards the kitchens, you took your time to pass on your thanks and praise to your housekeeper and butler. As you reached the swinging door that separated the kitchens from the rest of your house you paused, stretching out your neck and rolling your shoulders back, before pushing it open. Striding into the room you very rarely used yourself, you let your eyes rove over the form of your private chef, James, as he wiped down the work tops.

James was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. His chestnut hair, which had a tendency to curl when it got too warm, was tied up in a loose bun at the nape of his neck, although a few tendrils had sprung free and floated around his face. They drew attention to his high cheekbones and defined jaw, and you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. He hadn’t realised you were there yet, so you hadn’t caught a glimpse of his icy blue eyes, but you already had the exact shade of them seared into your memory. As he threw the wet cleaning cloth into the sink and grabbed a towel to dry the counter top off, you watched the muscles of his arms bunch under his black tee-shirt. He was so fucking beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

As you took a step forward, the heels of your stilettos clicked against the tiled floor and James looked up at you. As you smiled at him, you saw the telltale blush making its way up his neck and onto his cheeks, sending a rush of power through you. No-one would think on first glance that this prime specimen of manhood was a sweet, shy bean with a praise kink the size of Manhattan, but you knew better. Boy, did you know better.

James stepped back from the counter, body turned toward you, towel still in hand, but with his head and eyes downcast. “Ma’am,” he said with a small nod. You slid between him and the counter, elegantly hoisting yourself up onto it, so you could look him without craning your neck.

“I’ve come to congratulate you, James. That meal was absolutely wonderful. I think you outdid yourself this time.” That did the trick. At your kind words, he lifted his head and properly looked at you, his lips turned up in a sweet smile.

“You really liked it?” he asked. “The lemon syllabub was a new recipe I’ve been working on. I wanted it to be perfect.”

You reached out your hand and tucked one of the loose locks of hair behind his ear, before cupping his cheek. There was a dusting of stubble over his face and the anticipation of the friction it would provide had you pressing your thighs together.

“It was perfect,” you confirmed. “Like always. You’re always perfect, James.” You could see his eyes starting to lose focus as you spoke and you lowered your voice. “Always doing your best to please me.” His eyelids fluttered, his lashes kissing his cheeks and a soft moan escaped his lips. It was time to up the ante. “Do you think you deserve something special from me for all your hard work? What would you like?”

“I… I…” His cheeks turned an even brighter pink as he stuttered.

You leaned forward, your lips a hair’s breadth from his. “You can tell me, James. You’ve been so good. You deserve a treat. What about your own desert? Would you like that, maybe?”

Instead of a response he let out another moan, a noise that went straight to your cunt, and then dropped to his knees on the hard tiled floor. However, as thrilling as his submission was, you needed consent from him. You placed your heeled foot on his shoulder, stopping him from leaning forward. “Words, James. Do you want this?”

He looked up at you pleadingly. “Yes. Please. I need you.”

You smirked affectionately at him and removed your foot. “Then dig in, baby, and don’t waste a single morsel.”

With your confirmation, he let himself go. Dropping the towel, James’ hand landed on your legs, running up them, over the silkiness of your stockings. He dropped soft kisses on the side of each of your knees as he pushed your skirt higher and higher up your body. You wriggled on the counter top to aid him, until the fabric was bunched up above your hips. His kisses continued up your legs until they met the tops of your stockings, where your garter belt framed your barely covered pussy. He drew back slightly, gazing at your core and what you were certain was a damp stain evidencing your own desire for him. His tongue peeked out from between his lips.

“C-can I?” He seemed so innocent and naive in moments like this.

“Of course you can, James,” you cooed as you spread your legs even wider.

James shuffled his broad body closer, manoeuvring your calves over his shoulders and taking hold of the underside of your thighs in a gentle grip. Then, without any further warning, his face pressed against you, his lips and tongue sucking and licking at you through your panties.

You let your body lean back and your hands gripped the edge of the counter as a deep, salacious noise left your throat - a noise that seemed to spur your sweet and submissive lover on. His tongue swirled around your covered clit and your panties were soaked with a mix of your own arousal and his saliva.

“James…” His name left your lips on a moan and with a deft movement he lifted one of his hands to pull your lacy thong to the side, his tongue immediately pushing inside of you. Another guttural moan left you and one of your hands flew from the edge of the counter to thread into his hair, pulling strands loose from its bun. His mouth carried out its sweet torture on your cunt and you couldn’t control the roll of your hips, fucking yourself up against his face.

Your mouth spilled more praise for him, and he hummed his pleasure into you, the sounds vibrating through you, making you even more frenzied. “Right there,” you cried, feeling your orgasm build in the pit of your stomach. “Just like that, James. You’re gonna make me come!” The pleasure washed through you, your cunt gushing as it spasmed and you could hear the lewd slurping as James lapped up every drop of your spend.

As the trembles in your body lessened, your perfect lover retreated from your cunt, kissing his way back down your legs, smoothing your clothes back into place. He sat back on his heels, looking up at you pink-cheeked and glossy-eyed, his face damp and his hair a mess. You sucked air into your lungs, the sight of him so erotic you almost thought you were going to come again just by looking at him. Speaking of which…

“Lift your apron, James.” When he let out a whimper you had to tamp down your smile, knowing what you were going to see. “None of that,” you chastised. “Be the good boy I know you can be. Show me.”

He turned his head to the side, his shy embarrassment sending another thrill through you, but he did what you’d asked, slowly lifting up the white cotton fabric that covered his torso. There, at the apex of his thighs, the outline of his cock was visible against the black fabric of his chef’s trousers. However, in the bright overhead lights, you could see a glisten of moisture. Hopping down from the counter, you crouched in front of him, your breath hot on his cheek as he continued to look away from you. Your fingers gently caressed the tented fabric, feeling the sticky wetness of it. As you drew them away, you turned James’ head with your other hand, making him look at you, as you sucked your damp fingers into your mouth.

“Delicious. Perfect as normal, sweetheart. You’ve made me very happy.”

You stood swiftly and took a few steps towards the kitchen door before stopping and looking over your shoulder. James was still kneeling on the floor, looking totally fucked out.

“You ought to go home soon. You’ve got an early start in the morning. I’ve got a lot of plans for tomorrow and they start with breakfast in bed.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he slurred with a small nod. “Breakfast in bed. Got it.”

“Good boy,” you purred, already looking forward to the morning.

Bingo and Challenge fills: Juniverse - Chef AU | May Babb - Praise Kink @buckybarnesevents

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @nicoline1998enilocin, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #build a bucky bingo 2023 #Connect 4 #into an alternate june-iverse

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co-mixed · 1 month ago

Text

Fantastic Four (& FF) by Jonathan Hickman

Jonathan Hickman’s Fantastic Four equals a ton of expectations. Capital E. After the original one by Lee and Kirby, this one is probably considered to be the most defining for the team. At least that’s what I kept hearing before picking it up. It’s a fan favorite, hence the E. So it doesn’t need any extra introductions.

Next — spoilers, questions, enlightening conclusions, and more reasons to despise Reed Richards...

When I couldn’t come up with anything to say about the previous Millar run, I thought that was because the run didn’t affect anything (seriously, you should see my review — it’s pretty much me going on and on about how Reed messed up again). Turns out, I was wrong. Not about Reed, about the run. It was just a prelude to Hickman’s cooking.

Almost everything makes a comeback: dead Galactus, living Galactus, Nu-Earth, Doom, Val’s brilliant mind, etc. Topped off with Hickman’s love for large-scale events, his style of storytelling (where time is a flat circle), and even text pages. Don’t worry though, they make an appearance but don’t take up half of the book (yet).

A lot is going on in this series. When I say a lot, I mean almost overwhelmingly. Hickman’s style is throwing bits and pieces at you at random points and making them come together at another point. Now when’s that gonna be — you never know. This makes his runs fun and just a little chaotic, kind of like life. And if you pay attention, the bits come together like a puzzle where everything fits and nothing is left to chance.

The narrative also happens in two books: at some point he introduces FF as in Future Foundation, thus solving the question that plagues many a writer — what to do with the kids.

As much as I don’t care for kids' adventures, these worked just fine, so I don’t even feel the need to defend their existence or convince anyone not to skip them.

Too many Reeds

There is a whole council of Reeds and we learn that despite being so obviously the worst of all humans on Earth, our 616 Reed somehow turns out to be the best Reed out of all Reeds. Imagine how low the bar is…. Oh wait, there’s no need to imagine if you check out the story of Reed-98570 (Fantastic Four #605). And that creep is one of the founders of the council.

So between the nazi scientist Reed who stole Doom’s brain, other Reeds who turned their back on their families, and Reed Reed who is just garbage, there’s really only one question: why are all Reeds so awful?

Hickman proposes a possible answer — his father wasn’t around. Kind of sounds like bs. Look at the Marvel Universe: how many heroes still have their parents? And some parents had been awful. Not everyone turned out like this (except maybe Stark…). No, I say, Reed is bad because of Reed. And Val is probably gonna turn out just as bad.

There is so much to choose from. At this point, the list of his misdeeds (as I just mean Reed 616) exceeds the list of Daredevil’s dead exes.

It doesn’t take Reed 10 pages of the new run to start lying to his wife.

But that’s not news. What blows my mind, is how obsessively Reed is trying to prove to Wizard that he’s going to raise his clone into someone better. Pffft, Reed. Take care of your own kids – they’re out of hand. One is making deals with your arch-enemy, and the other is doing god knows what in the middle of the night in his own universe. You have your hands full.

And that is not even remotely close to being all that Reed’s been up to. He starts Future Foundation as a way to bring young forward-thinking kid geniuses together and solve everything. Ambitious and fair, fair because he sees how the existing scientific community has stagnated. The old, experienced scientists have no interest in building a future they won’t get to see. But kids, they do. Val is a perfect fit for this foundation (and so is Bentley-the-Wizard’s-clone) and that’s a great excuse to start neglecting Franklin. You know, build a little competition. If Odin’s guide to healthy parenting has taught us anything, it’s that kids should fight for their parents’ love and approval... Fine, I’m exaggerating but just a little. After all, Reed manages to neglect FF too. Whenever he does, he usually dumps it all on Johnny.

Johnny’s reign

It’s on one of such days that Johnny ends up locked forever in the Negative Zone. He is presumed dead and it’s all very tragic for the next few months. But it does bring Spider-Man out of his neighborhood and into the family drama. He actually fits in quite well, with nothing to prove and his easygoing attitude (but even he wonders if Sue is fine with whatever Reed’s doing at a given moment). Still, it’s not about him, so none of his personal tales make it into the book. Of course, Johnny soon returns.

Not only he shows up at the best possible moment, he has Annihilus on a leash and complete control of the Zone (which gives us the ‘hold my Annihilus’ panel). I swear, whenever Johnny sends his ships and troops somewhere, you can feel Reed’s green envy. Reed probably thought he deserved it more… (I don’t have any proof but it seems like something Reed would experience.)

Johnny seemingly matures, he’s supposed to be 2 years older now too, but that doesn’t last long and he quickly reverts to his classic irritating self. As if dying and coming back doesn’t mess with one’s mind.

What’s worse, he gives the Zone free elections, and guess what? They vote for Annihilus. Again. They got rid of him with pain, sweat, and blood, and they voted him back in. Now that’s just unrealistic! Can’t happen. Right?

That’s probably everything of note that happens with Johnny. I have to assume that writers, for the most part, still don’t know what exactly to make of him. But my guess is his image needs a serious makeover. I don’t know where he’s at right now, but I don’t think this party-hard, drink-’till-sunrise, never-be-on-time, have-no-purpose persona should live past 2012.

Sue’s enchantment under the sea

How did Johnny even end up on the other side of the gate to the Zone? Well, Ben was human, Reed was busy with Nu World and Galactus, and Sue… oh, Sue was ruling the seas.

No, unfortunately, she still hasn’t left Reed for Namor or any other fish person. But she did spend a ton of time negotiating a truce between Namor’s kingdom and other fish in the sea. Even punched Namor, which only made him want her more.

And I know that’s a whole other book but there was a jealous vibe from Emma, who also makes an appearance, and I don’t know what to make of it. From all we know, she can still have him as a backup if she wants to. Maybe she just hates being a second choice and Sue doesn’t exactly have Jean’s habit of dying and vacating the partner.

Other than that, Sue waters flowers, kicks celestial ass, and wonders if she’s a good parent. She is (her husband isn’t). She has confidence which is very nice to see. But she still doesn’t give Reed the grief he deserves. He keeps lying to Sue and deceiving her, which leads to bigger and bigger problems and she, along with other heroes, ends up having to deal with it. It’s a vicious circle and it’s an exhaustingly old issue even at that point (2011-12, people, the Avengers just came out!) Don’t get me wrong, I would be complaining if their married life was all suns and rainbows, because that’s just boring. But I need to see her confronting Reed. At this point, she just looks the other way and leaves him to his devices. I’m almost not surprised she jumped at the chance to hang out with Namor, even though he once again showed his more obnoxious side. At least he isn’t spending time with a bunch of himselves instead of her.

I never not feel bad for Sue, mostly because we still don’t really know her. Writers make small improvements and adjustments for her, and they reassure us that her love for Reed is real, but I can’t believe that. She has nothing of her own, nothing that isn’t attached to her husband, kids, the team, or Namor. She makes sandwiches and cuts off the crust.

The week of Ben

Now back to Johnny’s trip to the Negative Zone, where was Ben? Right beside him. Only Ben was human because the FF kids created a serum that could turn him human for a week every year. That was so shocking to everyone — the kids have figured out something Reed never could. Only that’s not true at all. Throughout the FF's history, Ben’s become human again at least 5 times, maybe more. Several times Reed figured out how to change him for good, some times he gave Ben the option to turn into The Thing at will. It never lasted but not all of that was Reed’s fault.

Regardless, Ben became human for his week, spent it hanging out with Johnny (worst choice ever if you ask me), but he also reunited with Alicia. The part that does bug me is he still thinks she loves him only for his looks. You know, as if his charming and not-at-all-angry personality is not enough. Also, no one is even mentioning Debbie who just a week ago was the love of Ben’s life and nearly became his wife and Sue’s best (only) friend in the process. But no sense in dwelling on the past.

Of course, after failing to sacrifice himself instead of Johnny, Ben takes a guilt trip. No, he actually leaves the team to go mope around in the Avengers mansion. And feels that it’s really all he does during this run aside from backing up the team and announcing clobbering time. But we do take a little trip to the future with Reed’s father, and we see what the kids’ serum does to Ben – he only ages a week every year so he gets to outlive everyone and that’s when we get a little moment that reminds us that he and Reed are actually best friends. Something that’s been buried under Ben’s loyalty and resentment, plus occasional (permanent) selfishness on Reed’s side.

Moloids though, they worship Ben. So that’s something.

The kids won’t be all right

We get to see future versions of Franklin and Val. To call these kids shady is an understatement. They are straight-up nasty creeps. And in a very mutant tradition, they come back from the future to mess around with history. Franklin gives himself his powers back, Val constantly states how much she doesn’t like her kid self.

Meanwhile,, their younger selves, accompanied by the FF, constantly get into trouble. We do address kid Franklin’s issues that I felt were dropped by Millar, his budding envy for Val. And when it comes to Val, I don’t think she’s going to change. She is Doom’s child at heart… everything about her is Doom, her arrogance, her sinister ideas, her elaborate plans. She did get one thing from Reed though — lying. Sneaking around and doing shady things – that’s all Reed. It makes me curious, the more I read about her, the more I want to see her turn into a self-righteous villain. She has everything for the part and she’d make a far more exciting villain than even Franklin with all his world-ending abilities. Val is also more suited to rule Latveria than Kristoff. Not trying to give Doom advice on how to run his land but… just something to think about.

What’s There to Do(om)?

The Reeds have historically been very unkind to the Dooms. And before we get into it, remember that I’m not giving props to a dictator, but let’s agree that turning Dooms into talking plants or brain donors is certainly not the way to achieve your goals of universal peace and prosperity. But the council of Reeds hunts down every Doom in existence, which I don’t know if it does make our 616 Doom special. He keeps jumping higher and higher up in the power ranking, and at this point, it’s hard to imagine he could be defeated. With some help from Val, he even obtains an Infinity Gauntlet (from a different universe) and creates a whole world. That makes him a god and I know this Doomiurge will return in Battleworld.

To make things worse (for Reed), through the course of the run, Doom is saving Richards and his family left and right. First, he saves Reed’s absent father (by killing his variant), then he sacrifices himself during the fight with the Celestials, and so much more in between. All while being very nice to Val and not breaking his word once. Oh yes, he’s a better parent to Val than Reed is.

This is once again, a story about the family. Reed’s family, because even when they all deal with their own things, they can be sure that somehow Reed is going to screw up everything and bring about the end of the world.

All of it makes me understand one thing. When you’re writing a Fantastic Four run, you gotta be either pro-Reed or pro-Doom. If you’re pro-Reed, you’ll go out of your way to prove that Reed’s doing the right thing. Even when he does the wrong thing for the right reason, which is a - always, b- a clear sign of a villain.

Pro-Doom writers don’t argue with Doom being evil and ambitious, but they always try to remind us how honorable Doom is and that his heart may be black but there’s a soft blueish spot in it for Valeria. A bit of healthy disdain for Mr. Fantastic usually correlates with at least some Doom apologism.

#marvel #marvel comics #comics #comic books #marvel universe #long reads #comics reviews #fantastic four #reed richards #susan storm #johnny storm #ben grimm #spider man #dr. doom

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thatsrightice · 2 years ago

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F-14 TOMCAT ISSUES AND ACCIDENTS

The following is a compilation of issues with the F-14 Tomcat that have been encountered by pilots throughout its lifespan due to both mechanical and other reasons. Some are based on individual accidents and some cover epidemics in which many aircraft were lost to the issue *cough* compressor stalls *cough* basically it’s a bunch of ways you can hurt your fav characters in your fics so if you write something pls let me know cause I want to read it!!!

The issues range from minor hydraulic leaks to an explosion where pilots survive but the aircraft is literally in a million pieces.

LAST UPDATED 10/25/2023

Added some links to relavant FFFOTDs

Side note, the F-14 was a frickin massive tank of a fighter jet. She has taken damage to major components and still been able to land safely, so every situation is pretty unique.

Water Damage- Any type of water intrusion would cause issues with the electrical systems. It was a very common thing, so much so that they would have to duct tape anywhere water might be able to enter as a precaution when they knew it would rain.

Hydraulic Fluid Leaks - The F-14 did leak hydraulic fuel fairly often. There was a joke going around that if there isn't a bucket leaking hydraulic fluid underneath the plane then you are out of hydraulic fluid.

The Staple - On F-14 As and Bs, they would limit the jet to 4Gs maximum for three months and then they would install a metal staple to the bottom of the aircraft just forward of the tail hook. The point of the staple was to prevent severe bulkhead cracks and fuselage delamination by reducing the torquing moments caused by material fatigue. The staple is described as being a 1 foot-long and 1 inch wide solid steel part that looks exactly like a staple. As a part of their pre-flight checks, pilots would have to hang on it to ensure it wouldn’t fall out.

Airbags - Now and then, the airbags would rip and they would have to fix them.

Hydraulic Failures - Hydraulic failures happened somewhat often, but not often enough to be a prevalent issue. Generally speaking, it was common knowledge that if an F-14 wasn't leaking hydraulic fluid then it was out of hydraulic fluid. They would place buckets underneath to catch the liquid when the aircraft was not flying.

An incident from 1988 resulted from a complete hydraulic failure of both the main and the backup systems. They ruled the accident to be caused by the combination of failure of a relief valve and material failure. The Commander of the Pacific Fleet at the time believed that it could have possibly been the result of entrapped air that had been introduced into the hydraulic system through minor system maintenance.

AICS Programmers - They would have to start the airplane and then run the intake ramps aka would have to cycle the intake ramps otherwise they wouldn't be able to get off the ground.

Flap-Slat Lockout - If the flaps on either side of the jet didn't program at the same rate, it would cut it out and lock them up. They were then unable to move them as the lockout was a precaution to prevent asymmetry. This forced pilots to land without flaps, requiring an extra 22 knots during landing. It was difficult to land when they were locked out, and in many situations the end result would be pulling up next to the carrier and ejecting. Flap-Slat Lockout was a consistent issue throughout the Tomcat's life.

Unreliable Fire Warning Light - Sometimes the fire warning light would just barely start to flicker on and steadily become more prominent. Overall "just a bad system." You never actually know if there's a fire or not.

Wings Won’t Come Out - This happened at NAS Oceana. The airplane landed at a speed of 230 mph, so very close to the F-14’s stall speed. When the wings are stuck back, you can't hit the brakes during landing because there is no anti-skid and you would overheat them, if you pulled the stick back you would rotate, and with the wings back you have no spoilers so there is nothing to slow you down. In this particular incident, the pilot was able to take the long landing, but if this issue was encountered at sea it would require an ejection or divert to an airfield nearby if possible. No big explosions or fires though, it’d be a fairly calm procedure and the plane could fly into range of the ship for easy retrieval after ejection.

Low Fuel (Barricade Landing) - Bad weather at night combined with air traffic personnel being too occupied with diverting tons of airplanes, launching tankers, etc. can cause an aircraft to get low on fuel. There was a situation covered in the F-14 Tomcast episode called "F-14 Barricade" where they were unable to refuel using a tanker and were forced to do a barricade landing for their safety. They were almost forced to pull up alongside the carrier and eject. After the landing, one of the crew calculated based on the amount of fuel left that they only had about 90 seconds of flying left. This is literally the only night F-14 barricade landing ever I am pretty sure (in real life Maverick's doesn't count lol). I like it because the pilot and RIO had to tell the aircrew straight up "You have to take us now" because the pilot could no longer see the tape on the fuel gage. The crew tells their story really well and it’s really funny to listen to, especially considering the fact that they had to keep sending them around because they fucked up setting up the barrier.

Hitting the Canopy (During Ejection) - Goose's story is based on a real story in which a RIO hit the canopy during ejection and broke his spine. The reason the pilot does not also hit the canopy is because the ejection sends the RIO out first. The canopy is ejected after a couple of seconds after the handle is pulled, then the RIO is ejected after a second or two, and then the pilot another second later. The ejection seats also launch them in different trajectories so the pilot and the RIO do not collide in the air, meaning they may or may not end up in the same area. The solution would be to wait for the canopy to clear before ejecting but sometimes your don’t have that luxury.

Front Landing Gear Failure During Takeoff- While launching off of the catapult of the aircraft carrier, the nose gear attached to the shuttle broke. The landing gear and shuttle proceeded to the end of the runway without the jet, hitting the end of the ship at 305 knots and damaging the front of the carrier. The jet went off the ship with far less speed than necessary (at barely 60-70 knots) and began falling into the water as it was not enough to get the Tomcat in the air. They ejected to barely 50 feet high and were in serious danger of getting run over by the aircraft carrier. In the accident covered on the Fighter Pilot Podcast FPP004 - Ejection Seats, the RIO tells the story of his survival and the tragic loss of the pilot.

Radome (Nose Cone) Detachment - An F-14 Tomcat lost its radome during a flight due to the failure of the latching mechanism. The radome crashed into the canopy, shattering te glass of the windscreen. The pilot could only see out of a 3 inch hole in the windscreen due to the cracked windshield. He couldn't hear anything due to the noise of the wind in the cockpit, so he was unsure of the state of his RIO but assumed he was unconscious because he hadn't ejected them. The pilot flew over the carrier three times before successfully landing the plane, despite having glass in both eyes and a broken collarbone. It turns out that the RIO had been completely unharmed but with comms down he was unable to tell the pilot such. Upon landing the plane, the pilot was medevaced for eye surgery and then returned to the US.

Midair Collision - F-14A BUNo 159832 was a midair collision between two F-14 Tomcat. In this particular situation, one of the airplanes was able to divert to a nearby airport due to losing part of the right wing whereas the other crew was forced to eject. Obviously you could probably picture a situation where both jets went down.

Landng with Damage - Tomcats are a very sturdy aircraft, often described as being a tank both due to how much fuel they were able to carry and the sheer size of the aircraft. There has been an incident where an F-14 landed without one of its vertical stabilizers. In the Radome Deatchment section, the pilot was able to land the plane. The following video shows an aircraft, although not an F-14, landing aboard an aircraft carrier with significant damage on its right right side.

youtube

Single Engine Cat Shot- There was an incident where an aircraft had engine issues the moment it left the carrier. Immediately after the launch, they lost the left engine, and the first thing the pilot did was go through engine failure procedures, wingman at their side. They set up for an engine start using normal air before they attempted a cross-bleed air start using bleed air from the right engine to rotate the starter in the left engine, but neither worked. The pilot addressed the fuel distribution situation by feeding the right engine with fuel from the left to even them out and then they began dumping fuel to get to the "max trap" weight. Upon successfully landing, the Commanding Officer initially believed that the pilot had allowed the left engine throttle to roll back to idle during the acceleration of the catapult stroke, however, after maintenance personnel spun up the engine to troubleshoot, the engine spun well past its normal rpm immediately without the mechanical load it usually carried by the tower shaft meaning that something was very, very wrong. An image of the aircraft after launch can be seen below. Note the singular engine lit up.

F110 Afterburner Failure - The new engines installed were great, but they initially had a problem with the afterburner. In one recorded accident, the pilot lit the afterburner, damaging the afterburner can's lining and leading to an explosion. The Navy prohibited use of the afterburner below 10,000 ft on the F-14+/B/D until the problem could get solved but it took nearly a year to remedy.

"Thump Bang" - The easiest way to incorporate any sort of accident is to call it what the Naval Aviators call a "thump bang". A "thump bang" refers to a series of events that occur when an aircraft experiences some sort of issue they described as a "thump" and then an explosion. It's kind of hard to describe what is like in the cockpit during this sort of accident as it could have happened quickly or could have been a delayed explosion, and it could have been caused by any number of reasons. If they don't know what actually happened, they'll call it a "thump bang" and can only hypothesize what occurred. The likely scenario would have been an issue with the TF30 engines.

TF30 - The "Turd in the punch bowl, " the TF30s had two specific issues that were kind of intertwined.

Throwing Fan Blades - One of the largest issues with the TF30s was that they were with the fan blades. When the fan blades become eroded or damaged over time, they no longer compress the airflow efficiently, potentially leading to an engine stall (see Compressor Stall below). Additionally, the TF30 was known for "throwing" fan blades. This is when the fan blade becomes detached and is shot out to the side into the interior of the aircraft. Not good. Pretty bad actually. They didn't initially know they were throwing fan blades until after a couple of accidents. when they started to be more common they would retrieve the aircraft from the water (if in large enough pieces and then investigate the cause.

Compressor Stall - The actual biggest issue with the F-14 Tomcat and its TF30 engines is the compressor stalling. They literally happened all the time from a variety of different causes. Generally speaking, the compressor stalls were the result of disruption to the airflow into the compressor of the engine. The compressor has fan blades that require the airflow to be undisturbed for maximum efficiency. It was theorized to be the result of foreign object debris (FOD) ingestion into the engines. They check religiously for loose objects on the airplanes as a result, oftentimes having a crew member dive into the intake ducts to check for loose bolts. Additionally, compressor stalls could be caused by operating the aircraft outside of its limits, improper handling, etc.

The F-14 had a gated afterburner, meaning it had 5 “gates” inside of the afterburner and each one lit up a flame rack. There was no variable thrust, so it had to be either on or off. Each of the five racks was labeled as a zone. Zone 3 is what they were allowed to take off with. Coming in or out of afterburner with any angle or attack would cause the compressor to immediately stall. This was mostly due to poor design of the intake.

In general, approximately 30% of F-14A losses were attributed to high-altitude compressor stalls. When one engine stalls, more often than not it will induce the other engine to stall as well. There is a procedure to counteract the compressor stall, the specific protocol was to ease the amount of Gs, slow down, the T.I.T. would go crazy and you shut it down. Or in fighter pilot slang, “ease, slow cook it, shut it down.”

One incident in particular that was assumed to be caused by engine failure resulted in an explosion that looked so bad it was a miracle the pilot and RIO survived (see image below). The pilot escaped with minor burns to his hands, face, and neck and was able to fly within a couple of weeks. The RIO sustained more serious burns on his hands but was flying again after several weeks.

youtube

Not Touching Them For Two Days - True story; they flew best when they were used a lot.

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 2 years ago

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Rose Thorn Blues | pt. 2

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Part One Masterlist

Summary: Begrudgingly, you let Peter Parker help you with the story. Even if it leads you two going undercover as a couple...

Word count: ~4k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! Fake dating!! Banter. More Criminal activity. Swearing. A lil bit of tension.

A/n: Well, I thought I'd share this smaller part before I head on vacation. Sorry it's not longer, but I hope this holds over until I'm back home! Thank you for reading, and let me know your thoughts <3

“Should I be regretting this?” you asked, immediately shaking your head as Parker wheeled over to your side.

“Too late.” He grabbed your notebook from your hands, kicking his feet up on your desk as he began to read. His lips moved silently along with the words, each curved syllable whispering past his mouth. You looked away when his eyes flicked to yours, those lips tilting into a grin even as he continued reading.

His fingers flipped the worn page of your notes, leaving you to pick at the hem of your shirt while waiting for him to finish.

You pulled your legs closer to you, trying to focus on the material of your pants rather than the urge to draw yourself into your body. But your nerves flared at the edges of your senses, telling you made the wrong choice. And only once you were about to pretend to need coffee just to step away, Parker blew out a tight sigh.

He muttered out, “Christ…”

Swallowing down the jolt in your muscles at his words, you turned to him, eyebrows raised. “Is that good or bad?”

His hand scratched along his jaw, his gaze following the words before slowly rising to meet yours. “Uh, your research is… good. Really good. But this,” he said, gesturing to the notebook, “is pretty bad.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, that quiet doubt inside your mind growing ever so louder. Barely blinking, you stared off wondering where this could go. Where you could end up if you went through with it. Your attention only snapped back when Parker cleared his throat.

He watched you, your expressions, with no humor on his face as he whispered, “So, you really went to this warehouse… by yourself in the middle of the night?” His finger pointed at your notes that indeed held your observations from last night. Still, that didn’t stop you from trying to lie and come up with anything that wouldn’t incriminate you.

When you didn’t answer, instead glancing at your fingers intertwining, he scoffed. “You know you could’ve really gotten hurt going there alone. Or worse. I don’t think these guys play around.”

“I wasn’t alone. I talked with Spider-Man,” you said, as if that could convince Parker that your plan hadn’t been a bad idea. But he raised an eyebrow at you, a half-smile on his face.

“Yeah? Now you’re buddy-buddy with him too?” A ghost of a laugh escaped him, but his eyes hardened, not leaving you. “I’m serious, sunshine. Spidey’s not gonna be there to always save you. We gotta do this carefully.”

Choosing to ignore the unyielding tone his words were wrapped in, you grabbed your notebook back from him, your jaw set. “I know that, Parker. And I’m not exactly in harm’s way now that I don’t have any other leads. All he’s got is some BS fundraiser I can’t get into,” you said, sitting back in your chair. Silently, as you traced a finger down the writing you’d gone over dozens of times already, you grumbled under your breath about the rude receptionist you’d talked to about it.

“A fundraiser?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The collar of his long-sleeve shirt swooped down an inch, drawing your eyes to the shadow of his chest before nodding. He then asked, “What could we find out from that anyway? Not like Beaumont is gonna be any more truthful with those rich people than he is with the general public.”

He brought the end of a pen to his mouth, beginning to chew on it before you could realize he took it from your desk. You just pressed your lips together, letting it go as he thought out loud some more — now beginning to spin in his desk chair.

“He’s hiding plenty of secrets as is, I’m sure there’s gotta be some that we could uncover by getting close, right? Maybe we could-”

“Parker! Where are those pictures you promised me!”

Jameson’s voice boomed through the office, sending the both of you jumping in your seats. Parker cleared his throat and called back, “Emailing them to you now, sir.”

Beneath the sound of Parker’s squeaky desk chair rolling back to his side, you heard Jameson swear under his breath. You didn’t dare peek over the half-wall and risk getting yelled at too. Instead, as frantic typing came from Parker’s keyboard, you wrote on a post-it note, “Able to stay late. We can talk about this piece. In peace. Haha…”

You folded it in half twice before tossing it over onto his side and returning to research — even as it felt useless to do so. A small twinge of hope trickled up your spine, so subtle you barely noticed it before it reached the base of your head. A hope that Parker said yes.

As another site turned up blank, you told yourself asking him was just to move this story along, even if it meant spending the evening with the intern you always seemed to stand in the shadow of. But this story could bring you over the top and show Jameson you deserved that job.

A few minutes later, a flash of paper flew from Parker’s side and landed right on your eye.

“Shit…” you groaned out, lightly rubbing your eye and blinking it repeatedly — all while you heard suppressed laughter from the other desk. Quietly, you muttered, “Dick,” and opened up the note. The only thing added to it was a poorly drawn thumbs-up.

With that settled, along with the weird relief at his answer that you shoved lower and lower, you worked on some of your assigned stories. One blurred into the next, all of them superficial enough to turn your brain fuzzy over the course of the work day. You wondered what Alice was working on and if they ever made her feel like this.

By the time people began packing up for the day, long after your mediocre lunch from the closest food shop, your head nearly felt numb. At least this story could be the break you needed from all this — all the unimportant parts of reporting, like who broke up with who, and how Spider-Man is somehow the reason for it. Again.

You rubbed a tired hand down your face, letting the warm darkness of it swallow you for a moment. Your head shot up finally once a granola bar clattered across your desk.

Parker’s head then appeared from around the half-wall, the wave of his dark hair looking ran through. “I stole it earlier today, but I think you need it more than I do, sunshine,” he said, pointing to the bar with a tilt of his head.

Your stomach growled as you grabbed it, ripping it open. “That’s such a stupid nickname,” you muttered before taking a bite, looking up at him with a half-assed glare.

“It’s more creative than you calling me ‘Parker.’ That’s just my last name.” He laughed, his eyes lighting up.

Quirking your head, you blinked slowly at him. “If I’m sunshine, then you’re moonshine. Makes sense too, cause I need to be drunk to even tolerate you, Parker,” you grumbled, finishing off the granola bar.

And before he could open that stupid mouth of his, you threw away the wrapper and said, “I think Jameson’s gone if we want to start on the story. We-”

“Now?” Parker’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you, his hand coming up to run down his neck. “Immediately vetoing. C’mon.”

Before you could ask any questions, he stood up and walked toward the doors, shouting over his shoulder, “Keep up!”

As much as your mind resisted listening to him, your eyes and legs definitely needed the break. So you followed after him, staring at his back as you made your way down the building’s steps.

Out on the sidewalk, the sun sat lower in the sky at this hour. Clouds scattered throughout kept the air from getting too hot, the feeling bringing a content smile to your face.

Blinking at him, you saw the way the sunlight showered down on Parker. The effortlessness of his hands sitting in his pockets and his hair laying perfectly messy — even his goddamn freckles glowing in the light — set a sparking anger in your chest. It only twisted, turned more sour, when he opened his mouth.

“You know… it’s not polite to stare at someone. Even if they are ruggishly handsome.”

A laughing scoff escaped your mouth, your eyes instead drifting across the crowd of people passing along the sidewalk. “I was just trying to figure out how your head fit such a little brain inside it. Does it just roll around like an acorn in there? Maybe a pea?”

Feeling the glare from his side-eye, you caught his growing half-smile. “Yeah? Could a pea-sized brain be smart enough to find us an actual dinner?”

“I mean… probably. But,” you said, tilting your head at him, “that’s not the worst plan you’ve had.” For emphasis, your stomach growled while you two walked down the street. And through grabbing carryout to eat back at the office, you made it a point to not stare at Parker — or do anything to give him a bigger ego than he already had.

His often irritating words certainly made it easy enough, like now as he spoke in between bites of his food from the takeout box. “So, I’m thinking–”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

You let out a laugh as he flipped you off, the shaking in your shoulders helping lift a weight from them. At least it was easy to laugh with him — or at him.

With a pointed stare, he continued. “I’m thinking that we have to find the connection between Beaumont and spidey… man. Spider-Man. With that warehouse you nearly burgled.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him as he leaned against your desk. With your feet propped up next to where he sat, you ate your food from your desk chair. The office lay bare beside you two, your ID cards giving you access after hours. Unsurprisingly, the brainstorming hadn’t been terribly productive yet.

“I did not burgle anything… yet. But I haven’t seen anything between those two before. Maybe Beaumont’s just a big fan. He’s taking all our money just to grow his collection of supervillain memorabilia.”

Parker let out a quiet laugh. “Sounds like something Jameson would do.”

You internally shivered at the idea of finding your boss’s secret stash of Spider-Man collectibles.

Silence slipped over the two of you, just the noises of eating and the building’s air conditioning as you both thought through the details. Eventually, he said, “So this Ellis Beaumont guy has to have some sort of conflict with Spider-Man, meaning we could research what crimes of Beaumont’s that Spider-Man has stopped.”

An unsure look overtook your face. “That’s way too many to look through — and it’s not like that information is recorded anywhere. This politician keeps things tightly under wraps…” you sighed, letting out a tired laugh that didn’t feel all that funny. “It feels like I’m right back where I started.”

“Could that fundraiser of his give us answers?” Parker asked, his eyes glancing at yours.

You hesitantly nodded as you swallowed your next bite. “Probably, since it’s at his house apparently. But without an invitation, we’re kind of shit out of luck.”

“So we get an invitation and do some snooping during the event. Easy enough.”

Parker had put his food down, and you did not like the growing smirk on his face. “Before you say anything,” he told you, “I know a guy. It’ll be fine — we’ll just dress the part and do some investigative journalism.”

“Oh, so it’s bad to check out a warehouse, but we’ll just crash the fundraiser of a member of the government body and suspected criminal? You’re insane.” A scoff escaped your mouth when he nodded.

As you dropped your feet from the desk, you wanted to regret letting Parker in on this story or at least question who this guy was that could get you two into this fundraiser, but you had no better plan — or the guts to pull this off without him.

“This has got to be pretty illegal…” you whispered.

Parker gave you a smile that both calmed you and let butterflies loose in your stomach. “Absolutely. But Beaumont committed the crimes first, so we’re just evening it out.” He crossed his arms, the fabric of his long sleeve wrapped tight around them. With an expectant look, he raised his eyebrows at you. “So, are you in?”

A minute passed as you thought, considering any other plans that wouldn’t end with the both of you in jail. But you came up with nothing.

This better be one hell of a story. “Okay, fine. Let’s do this.”

“Great!” he said, clapping his hands together. “One more thing, though. We’re going to have to go as a couple. I’m thinking our last name could be–”

“Excuse me?” You cut him off, your eyes widening. Despite your mouth opening, nothing came out. You just dropped your gaze to the wall behind him as you let out a long breath.

“How else are we going to be convincing? All the other people joining are families or couples, right?”

He explained it so matter-of-factly. You understood, really. But pretending to be married to him while sneaking through a mansion? All for a ridiculous unpaid summer internship?

“Parker, have you come up with a torture plan?” You put your face in your hands, quietly groaning. You could be cordial with him and cautiously appreciate his (persistent) help on the story, but the idea of acting as a couple in love with him brought an uneasiness to your body.

Would Alice approve? It felt again like you weren’t following your heart, which wanted to hide deep down behind your ribs.

Parker looked at you, his mouth pressed tight. “Hey, not exactly like getting down on a knee to you was my original plan here,” he muttered.

Still, you looked back at him, ignoring the intensity of his stare. “So what will our last name be?”

Bennet, it turned out, would be the last name on your IDs and invitations for the banquet in two days. Sam and Rose Bennet.

During the days leading up, the two of you worked on regular assignments under the eye (and screaming) of Jameson.

But if someone looked closely, they’d see your leg constantly shaking beneath your desk and Parker’s nails being bitten down to the bed. They might be able to hear the whispered comments between the two of you — most about what your story would be. They would even see the things neither of you could make out, like the unasked questions on the tips of your tongues or the pull that seemed to exist between you and Parker.

The story you decided on was high school sweethearts — private school, of course. Something arranged by your equally rich and philanthropic parents, whose money you’d be happy to donate to Stronger Together during the fundraiser.

In reality, you both scrounged up enough money to rent nice enough clothes for the event and hoped that you wouldn’t have to pay for any extra damage. Besides the money concern, the risk of something happening to the clothes (and you, more importantly) weighed over your mind. Parker didn’t seem to have any worries, or voice them to you at least, about this whole plan going sideways.

So, you planned for it by yourself. Which exits would be best, which people you should probably stay away from. And you still didn’t ask how Parker exactly got you two into this, not that you were sure you wanted to know.

It didn’t even cross your mind the night of, not as you stood in your apartment, slipping on a floor-length gown that seemed to lay just right. Your fingers ran along your body, fixing things here and there until you were sure no rich politician would look twice at you and suspect something. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you weren’t sure you recognized yourself — or the idea you had of yourself. Maybe that was a good thing.

Your frayed nerves turned electric as your phone went off, a text from Parker letting you know he was here. For a minute, you hesitated. The constant thrumming in your chest clouded your thoughts, telling you something that you couldn’t quite make out.

As a second, more impatient, text came through, you gave one last glance at yourself and walked out into the hallway.

Each step to the front door in shoes that squeezed your feet much too tightly felt like a jolt to your heart. A breeze pushed past you as you walked out to his car — one that he’d have to park far away so the valet couldn’t see his shitty 2004 Honda Civic.

Parker stood leaning against the side of the vehicle, one hand scratching at his jaw and the other shoved far into his rented tux’s pockets. He stared down at his shoes, his vacant look telling you he also had a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

But as his gaze drifted up, connecting with yours, that worried crease between his eyebrows smoothed out, his hand dropping from his jaw down to his lap. Your steps slowed, your fingers clutching tight onto a purse you borrowed from a friend.

Those honeyed eyes turned bright as a ghosting smile spread across his face. You took in the image of him staring at you in that tuxedo — one that you could tell he wasn’t used to if you looked too hard. Not that you were doing that, of course. Still, the expensive material sat nicely along his tanned skin from the summer sun.

Though, you couldn’t figure out what felt off about him until you came closer, the buzzing in your ears growing much too loud as you neared. Reaching a hand up, your eyebrows furrowed, you went to fix his hair. The caramel strands sat straight and slicked back. It didn’t look like he’d run his fingers through it a hundred times.

But as you felt his breath brush along your skin, saw the stillness of his body, you paused. Too close. Too much, even for a fake couple.

You dropped your hand by your side, begging your body to calm down. You avoided his eyes as you took a step back. “Sorry,” you whispered, maybe for the first time to him, “Your hair just looks so…”

“Stuffy? Obnoxious? Greasy?”

“Pretentious is what I was going to say.”

His tight laugh brought some sort of relief to your tense muscles, even as he pushed off his car and muttered, “Glad we both look the part then.”

You raised an eyebrow, staring at him while fighting a smile. “You know, Parker — or Bennet, I should say — a real gentleman would’ve opened my door for me.”

Right before he plopped down in his car, he said, “You’re lucky I’m even picking you up, Mrs. Bennet.”

Quietly, you let out a huff and got into the passenger seat. Your hands brushed along your dress, straightening it out.

As you picked off a stray piece of lint, you said, “I’m not sure this is the right way to start as a couple.” You tried to make your words sound easy, but it didn’t even sound convincing to you.

Parker began driving, keeping his eyes on the road as he drummed a finger along the steering wheel. “You’re right — but don’t let that get to your head, sunshine. Okay, when did we first meet?”

“We first met fifteen years ago, but we didn’t start dating until ten years ago when our parents put us together. Toward the end of high school…”

“Where we went to different colleges but made the long-distance thing work. Somehow,” he said, waving a hand as if it didn’t matter or no one would ask how.

“And now, using the money we’ve saved up through our parents’ endowment funds and-”

“Wait, what does that even mean?” you asked, realizing he came up with this without telling you until now.

“It uh… it’s something to do with donations. I Googled it — it’s fine. Anyway, we’re using that and their savings to give back like they have always wanted. Great, fool-proof.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded for a second before shaking your head. “Parker, that makes no goddamn sense. This is a terrible idea.”

“Well, we’re going to be there soon, so too late now.”

“It’s actually not too late,” you told him, your throat feeling tight. “Let’s just turn around, okay?”

“Hey,” he said as the car came to a stoplight. He turned to look at you, the shine of the light illuminating half of his face.

His voice came out soft. “You nearly burgled a criminal’s warehouse, and you lied to a government official’s secretary, or something. This will be a piece of cake, alright?” Ever so quietly, a warmth bloomed in your chest, melting the cold fear that’d been wrapping around you. You gave him a short nod, making him give a tight-lipped smile and keep driving. “Great! Now, suck it up, sunshine, and come up with a better backstory. I can’t do all of the thinking in this marriage.”

A laugh bubbled up from your mouth. You rolled your eyes, even though your fidgeting had calmed down.

With a long breath out, you said, “What about if my grandmother left me money in her will, and I’m honoring her memory by giving it back to the city she loved?”

“Not bad… and sorry for your imaginary loss. I think it’ll keep people from prying too much further.”

“I hope so,” you muttered, hoping this half-baked plan would work.

Eventually, Parker slowly rolled the car to a stop. He parked on a smaller residential road a few blocks away, but you could still see the lights shining into the sky from Beaumont’s place. His castle to overlook all the peasants of the city.

Your shoes clicked across the pavement, the two of you nearing the mansion. With each step, you tried harder to ignore your heart hammering louder.

You breathed out a shaky breath when Parker held out his arm next to you. Hesitantly, you took it, wrapping your arm around his. Normally, you might’ve ignored the hardness of his body or the warmth seeping into your skin, but the solid, unyielding feeling of him brought some sort of grounding.

Leaning his mouth toward your ear, Parker said, “Which one do you think is going to pop first? The vein bulging from Jameson’s forehead or the huge one in his neck?”

The laughs you let out were sharp and involuntary, a smile breaking out on your face. Looking at him, at the grin he sent your way, you said, “Definitely the one on his forehead. And you’re going to be the one to make him mad enough to pop it.”

“I’ll be sure to wear those plastic ponchos the next time I’m late.”

“So… Monday? We can pick one up after the fundraiser for you.”

The giggles underlacing your words slowly died down as you turned the street corner, your eyes catching all the other couples approaching the towering house. Valets stood at the front, taking car keys from guests before they came to the doors — guards standing on either side.

“You’ve got the invitations?” you whispered to Parker, your hold on his arm growing tighter.

He quietly scoffed. “Of course I have them. Who do you think I-” His words stopped, his hands patting down his suit jacket for the invitation. Right as you felt your stomach threaten to curl in on itself, he flashed you a grin. “Just kidding, they’re right here,” he told you, grabbing them from his pocket.

With a forced smile plastered to your face in front of all these guests, you gritted out, “I’m going to murder you.”

“You are too funny, dear,” Parker said, or more likely, Sam Bennet said as the two of you walked up to the doorman holding his hand out for the invitations.

The way Parker’s mouth curled around the affectionate name felt foreign at first, but the way the doorman looked at the two of you — as if you really were a happy couple — made it feel right.

And that was it, that was all it took for a softness to flow over you and let yourself become Rose Bennet. For tonight.

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