#the way she owned it n outshined everyone

[goldfades]

★ ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD ─── CC²² (part 1/2)

❪ requested -> "Can you write something about cc and reader being enemies and hating eachother. but they are on two different teams so they play against eachother and something happens during one of their games and they take their hate out on eachother with smut?" ❫

─ warnings | lots of sexual tension (no smut, yet) slightly angst, reader is on LSU, singular kiss, trash talking, drinking, nothing else

─ ev's notes | okay so i'm not a super LSU fan, i just rly love hailey and angel so those are the only girls included in the fic LMAOOO, anyway. enjoy this heavy ass fic!

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You couldn't stand Caitlin Clark.

Now, you couldn't really remember when this dislike had began. Ever since you laid on eyes on taller brunette, you hated how cocky she was. It wasn't just her cockiness that rubbed you the wrong way; it was the way she seemed to effortlessly outshine everyone around her, both on and off the court.

You watched as she dominated every game, her skills unparalleled, her talent undeniable. It felt like she was born to be a star, while you struggled to keep up. And while her talent was undeniable, it was her attitude that really got under your skin. She seemed to revel in her superiority, never missing an opportunity to remind everyone just how good she was.

But perhaps what bothered you most was the fact that despite your best efforts, you couldn't seem to escape her shadow. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you improved, you were always just one step behind her. It was frustrating, infuriating even, to constantly be compared to someone who seemed so effortlessly perfect.

Well ─ at least, in your eyes. You were still one of the best players in the entire nation, however you were always second best to Princess Caitlin Clark. You'd been the second best prospect in your year, trailing behind her like a persistent shadow. And it wasn't just the comparisons that irked you; it was the constant reminder of your perceived inadequacy, the feeling of always being in her shadow.

You couldn't shake the resentment that bubbled within you every time Caitlin strutted onto the court, her aura of invincibility following her like a shadow. She thrived on the attention, basking in the adoration of fans and teammates alike. Meanwhile, you fought tooth and nail for every scrap of recognition, every ounce of respect that always seemed just out of reach.

That was, until the 2023 NCAA championship.

LSU versus Iowa ─ the most anticipated game of the season, who will take the W? It was the showdown everyone had been waiting for, the clash of titans to determine who would claim the coveted crown of college basketball supremacy.

And at the center of it all were you and Caitlin, two fierce competitors locked in a battle for glory.

You had chugged your redbull and strutted out on the court like you owned it, your eyes landing on the taller brunette who's eyes were already on you. In that moment, you knew that this game would be about more than just basketball; it would be a battle of wills, a clash of titans vying for supremacy. The tension in the air was palpable, so thick you could almost reach out and touch it.

The media frenzy surrounding the game only added to the pressure, with reporters clamoring for every tidbit of insight from both you and Caitlin. It was the clash of the season, the matchup everyone had been waiting for, and neither of you were about to disappoint.

Everyone felt the tension, the energy crackling in the air like electricity. The media never missed a chance to ask you or Caitlin about it, hyping up the matchup as the game. And as you stood there, facing off against Caitlin across the court, you knew that this was your chance to finally prove yourself, to silence the doubters and cement your legacy once and for all.

"Don't worry, Y/N," Hailey's voice echoed from behind you, you felt her hand your shoulder. "You'll end up winning this. You've trained too hard for anything else."

You nodded, taking in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Even your teammates knew the deep-rooted history with the brunette. It wasn't just about LSU versus Iowa; it was about L/N versus Clark, a battle for supremacy that had captured the attention of fans and media alike.

As the referee signaled the start of the game, you focused all your attention on the task at hand. Caitlin stood across from you, a worthy adversary with a reputation to match. But you were ready, mentally and physically prepared to give it everything you had.

You were tasked to guard her and you weren't planning on letting her get an inch of space. Every move she made, every dribble, every feint, you were right there, anticipating her next move with razor-sharp focus. You could feel the intensity of her gaze, the determination in her eyes as she tried to outmaneuver you.

With each passing minute, you could see the frustration building in Caitlin's dark eyes, the realization dawning that you had expanded your skill set since the last time you'd met. And as the game wore on, you refused to let up, hounding her relentlessly from one end of the court to the other.

Then suddenly with 4 seconds on the clock before halftime, you saw your chance to prove your superiority. With speed, you intercepted one of Caitlin's passes, turning defense into offense in the blink of an eye. With a burst of speed, you drove towards the basket, leaving Caitlin in your wake as you soared through the air for an emphatic dunk.

In that moment, you knew that you had won more than just a single play ─ you had won a psychological battle, proving to Caitlin and everyone watching that you were more than just her equal.

Your teammates surrounded you but the cheers into background as Caitlin gazed at you, her usual determination into pure rage. But instead of feeling intimidated, a sense of satisfaction washed over you, a knowing smile playing at your lips.

You had waited for this moment, trained for it, dreamed about it. And now, as you looked into Caitlin's eyes, you could see the realization dawning on her ─ that you were not just her rival, but her equal, maybe even her superior. She wasn't unguardable, you'd just proven everyone wrong and Caitlin herself was forced to acknowledge it.

"The fuck are you smiling for?" Her words came out harsh as she walked toward you, letting her frustration get the best of her. You met her gaze head-on, unflinching despite the intensity of her glare ─ you felt your smile grow as laughter built up in your stomach, looking up at the brunette.

You couldn't resist a smirk at Caitlin's question, relishing the opportunity to get under her skin just a little more. "Because I just showed the world what real talent looks like," you shot back, your tone dripping with amusement. "Looks like being second best suits you, Caitlin."

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, it seemed like she might lash out until her teammate put her hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't get too cocky," she muttered, her voice tinged with anger. "This isn't over, Y/N. I'll be back, and next time, I won't go easy on you."

You shrugged, undeterred by her threat. "Bring it on, Princess," you challenged, your smirk widening into a full-blown grin. "I'll be waiting ─ and smiling ─ for round two."

"Princess? You've gotta be kidding, who do the fuck do you think─" Caitlin cut herself off with a bitter laugh, shaking her head. She ignored your quip as she walked away, making sure to hit your shoulder as she walked away.

Before you could relish in the moment any longer, you felt Angel's hands on your shoulders as you met her gaze. You squealed in excitement as you both walked off the court toward your team.

The game continued after halftime, each possession a testament to your skill and determination. But no matter how hard Caitlin fought, she couldn't shake the knowledge that you had bested her, not just physically, but mentally as well.

And when the final buzzer sounded, signaling your LSU's victory, you knew that you had achieved more than just a win. You had proven yourself on the biggest stage, against the toughest competition, and emerged victorious.

As you celebrated with your teammates, the realization sunk in that this victory wasn't just about winning a game; it was about overcoming years of doubt and frustration, about proving to yourself and the world that you were capable of achieving greatness.

──

"Caitlin, tough loss out there tonight. How are you feeling after such a close game?" A reporter asked, their voice sympathetic.

Caitlin took a moment to collect her thoughts, her mind still buzzing with the intensity of the game. "Yeah, it's definitely disappointing to come up short like that," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "We gave it our all out there, but sometimes things just don't go your way."

But it was the next question that made Caitlin's stomach twist with unease. "Your matchup with Y/N was one of the most anticipated of the season. What was it like going head-to-head with her?"

She hesitated, knowing that whatever she said next would be scrutinized. "Y/N is a talented player, no doubt about it. I've known her for a while, we've played on the same team at some point," Caitlin answered carefully, her words measured. "She brought her A-game tonight, and it made for a tough battle on the court."

The tension in the room seemed to ratchet up a notch as another reporter pressed on. "There seemed to be some tension between you two out there. Can you speak to that?"

Caitlin's jaw tensed momentarily before she forced herself to relax. "Y/N and I have a history, for sure," she replied, her tone diplomatic. "But at the end of the day, it's just competition. We both want to win, and sometimes that can lead to some heated moments on the court. I don't hate her," she paused as she sighed. "She's a good player, props to her. She proved I'm not unguardable,"

Caitlin forced a smile as the reporters laughed, nodding. But it was the final question that caught Caitlin off guard, prompting a genuine, knowing smile to tug at the corners of her lips. "Do you think this game marks the end of your rivalry with Y/N?"

She paused, considering her response carefully. "No, ma'am. It's far from over, I haven't been beat yet,"

The reporters laughed again but she was dead serious. She couldn't wait until next year, she knew LSU would make it to the finals ─ and she'd finally prove to you once and for all, she is number one.

──

"It felt more like sexual tension to me, that's just me though," Hailey spoke up as she swirled her straw in her drink.

Hailey's remark caught you off guard, and you shot her a sharp glare, a mixture of surprise and annoyance flickering in your eyes. But before you could respond, she quickly held her hands up in defense, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," she quipped, her tone light despite the tension in the air. "I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking. You should look at twitter. Actually, not right now ─ you're not gonna like it,"

"What do you mean?" You sent the blonde another look as she gave you a thin-lipped smile, shrugging.

Hailey gave you a thin-lipped smile, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just saying, you might want to avoid social media for a little while,"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why? What's going on?" you pressed, your patience wearing thin.

But before Hailey could respond, Angel interrupted, clapping you on the back and dragging you into a group huddle to celebrate the victory. As the cheers and laughter filled the air, you couldn't shake the feeling of annoyance that had settled in the pit of your stomach.

"Wait, wait, I have my film camera upstairs!" You shouted as the team let out a chorus of groans.

"Go get it!"

You grabbed your purse and ran up to the elevator. As you rode the elevator up to your room, your mind raced with thoughts of the game, the victory, and the impending celebration. You were texting your parents, not looking where you were going until you someone stopped you in your tracks, putting their hands on your shoulders.

You looked up to meet Caitlin's dark eyes, your excitement turning into annoyance. Her gaze was intense, and you could feel the weight of her stare boring into you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension thick between you like a tangible force.

"Watch where you're going, you almost bumped into me," her voice was hoarse as your lips turned to a frown.

"Well I didn't," your eyes flickered to her hands, who were still lingering on your shoulders. You caught her gaze as she cleared her throat before slowly withdrawing them.

Neither of you moved, daring the other to break the tense silence that hung heavy in the air. The weight of Caitlin's stare bore into you, her dark eyes searching for something you couldn't quite name. Your own gaze remained locked with hers, a silent challenge passing between you.

"I don't get why you're being a bitch," her words came out soft but there was an edge to them. She didn't look like her usual self, she didn't give off the same energy she did on the court.

"What do you mean?" You scoffed, shaking your head. "It isn't about you, Caitlin. It's about winning and being a bitch is kinda part of the package,"

"No, I don't mean tonight. You always act like I'm the worst person alive, even when we played together. On the court, we were fine and then you didn't wanna talk to me after," Caitlin said, her voice tinged with frustration.

"Yeah, cause not everyone wants to be friends with you, Caitlin," you shot back as her hurt turned into annoyance.

"Yeah but we played well together, and if you'd committed to Iowa, like you said you would we would have been unstoppable," Caitlin's voice grew louder as she furrowed her eyebrows.

You scoffed. "Then I would've committed to a four years of being second to you, like I did All Iowa Attack. Plus I would have if you'd gone to UConn, like you said you would,"

"God, what is your obsession and being second to me!" Her frustration finally boiled over, her voice rising in anger as she locked eyes with you. "You're not even second to me. We're just good at different things and I get a little more recognition than you. Jesus Christ, you're so self-obsessed, not everything is about you."

"No, Caitlin, it's not about being self-obsessed," you shot back, your voice rising to match her intensity. "It's about feeling like I'm always playing second to you, no matter how hard I try."

Caitlin's eyes flashed with frustration, her jaw set in a stubborn line. "And what, you think I enjoy always being the one in the spotlight?" she retorted, her voice tinged with bitterness. "It's not as fun as you think, Y/N. All that recognition comes with its own set of pressures and expectations."

You scoffed, the anger bubbling up inside you. "Oh, cry me a river, Caitlin," you spat, the resentment clear in your tone. "At least you get the recognition. At least people know who you are."

"People know who you are too!" Caitlin's nostrils flared as she took a step closer, her gaze piercing into yours. You didn't even know how close she was until you could feel her body warmth radiating off of her as she looked down at you.

"Yeah, as the sidekick," you shot back, refusing to back down despite the proximity. "Always in your shadow, always second best."

Caitlin's jaw clenched, her frustration palpable as she fought to maintain her composure. "You think I don't know what it's like to feel overshadowed?" she snapped, her voice strained with emotion. "You think I don't feel the pressure to live up to everyone's expectations?"

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Please, Caitlin," you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You love the attention. You thrive on it."

Caitlin's gaze bore into yours, her eyes dark with intensity as she took a step closer, the space between you narrowing until there was barely a breath of air separating you. You could feel the heat radiating off her body, her proximity sending a shiver down your spine.

"Is that what you think?" she murmured, her voice low and husky, a hint of something unfamiliar dancing in her eyes. "That I love the attention?"

You swallowed hard, the heat of her gaze searing into your skin, igniting something unfamiliar within you. "Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't like this new attitude, Y/N. I liked it better when used to you shut up and and take the heat," Caitlin interjected, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.

Your breath caught in your throat, the intensity of Caitlin's words sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. There was something different about her now, something raw that left you both exhilarated and irritated.

"I'm not the one who can't handle a little competition," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you met Caitlin's gaze head-on.

Caitlin's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger as she took another step closer, the heat of her body enveloping you in a cloud of desire. "And I'm not the one who needs to prove myself at every turn," she shot back, her voice low and dangerous.

"You're a bitch," you felt breathless as her gaze bore into yours.

"Yeah? Am I?" Her lips quirked into a smirk as she took in your appearance. You were always pretty, everyone knew it ─ people underestimated you, she sure had until tonight.

She wasn't dumb ─ she saw the way you looked at her and underneath all that hatred, she knew that you just wanted a little attention from her. Even after she'd committed to Iowa and you'd committed to LSU, Caitlin could see the way your gaze lingered on her more than it should have.

You felt a rush of heat rise to your cheeks at the intensity of her gaze, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Despite the anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface, there was something undeniably exhilarating about the way Caitlin looked at you, as if she could see right through to your soul.

"Damn right you are," you shot back, your voice tinged with defiance as you met her gaze head-on.

Caitlin's smirk widened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in her eyes as she closed the distance between you, her body inches away from yours.

"And you love it," she murmured, her voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, Caitlin's lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless, the heat of her touch igniting a fire deep within you.

She pressed her lips against yours harshly and the two of you momentarily decided to forget how you two were in the hotel hallway, where anyone could step out and see this scene unfolding.

"Oh fuck," you moaned into the kiss as she pressed closer, your words muffled against her lips.

But Caitlin didn't seem to care about the risk of being caught, her hands roaming freely over your body as she deepened the kiss, her touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both.

You melted into her embrace, your mind clouded with desire as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment. For a fleeting instant, nothing else mattered ─ not the rivalry, not the consequences, nothing but the intoxicating passion that pulsed between you and Caitlin.

Caitlin pulled away harshly, a desperate whimper coming out of your lips as she glared down at you. She licked her lips as she let go of you, your face contorting into annoyance. Was she teasing you?

"What the hell, Cait?" you demanded, your voice laced with a mixture of irritation and longing. "Why'd you stop?"

Caitlin's gaze bore into yours, intense and unreadable, as she licked her lips with a slow, deliberate motion that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a hunger in her eyes, a primal desire that mirrored your own, yet something held her back, a barrier between you that neither of you seemed willing to breach.

"I'm not fucking you until we win," she replied, her voice low and husky, the words a mere whisper against the charged silence that enveloped you both. "Until I get the trophy, until your team loses."

"So you're gonna wait a whole year?" You scoffed, incredulity lacing your tone as you struggled to comprehend Caitlin's reasoning. The idea of waiting seemed absurd, especially in the midst of the intense desire that pulsed between you. "Well good luck, cause we're not going to."

"Yeah, and until you cut the fucking attitude. It doesn't suit you, Y/N." Caitlin's words were sharp, a harsh reminder of the tension that simmered beneath the surface of your interactions.

"Fuck you," you scoffed as she smirked. She just shook her head as she walked away, leaving you alone and so desperately needy.

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[ginnsbaker]

Fic: Right Here, Right Now

Summary: Marrying the love of your life a second time around is definitely sweeter // An ILGOSS Oneshot.

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader | Word count: 1.4k+ | Warnings: None...? does cheese count? | A/N: Did you miss me? Thank you to the anon who suggested this one-shot. This is set in the ILGOSS universe, but can be treated as an independent story about two divorced wives marrying each other again. This functions more like a drabble, think of it like a missing scene in the epilogue. Enjoy!

Masterlist

-

It's been a grueling twelve hours since you last saw Wanda, and you're practically climbing the walls. Your heart's doing this annoying jittery thing, and the more you try to calm down, the more agitated you become. This whole ‘not seeing the bride before the wedding’ tradition is driving you nuts.

Desperate, you send a text to Natasha. I need to see her, you say, barely keeping it together to type a full sentence. I can't wait till the aisle.

Your phone buzzes almost immediately with Natasha’s reply. On it!, she texts back, and you know she's cooking up some scheme. Relying on your best friend to create the perfect diversion feels like your only lifeline.

It only takes a few minutes when suddenly, an ear-splitting sound erupts from outside, jerking everyone's attention away from the primping and preening. Your eyes shoot wide—trust Natasha to choose something as dramatic as a fire or emergency hazard for a diversion. Part of you frets Wanda might be one of the first out there. Nevertheless, the plan works like a charm. Like clockwork, the room empties out, everyone drawn out by the allure of drama and a juicy story.

You’re half-curious about what kind of ruckus Natasha managed to come up with, but that thought vanishes instantly when you hear the other bedroom door open with a soft creak. A second later, a smile gradually spreads across your lips when you hear a set of footsteps, familiar to you as your own heartbeat. Rising carefully from your chair to avoid stepping on the hem of your pristine white dress, you make your way to the door as quickly as decorum allows.

As you reach the stairs, you spot your bride already making her way down. Seeing her, even with her back turned to you, takes your breath away and seals your fate of forever having your heart in Wanda’s captivity. It's hard to believe you managed to be with her the first time. Harder to think about how you almost lost her in your life for good, but here you are, feeling like the luckiest person in the world to have her back again for a second chance.

“Hey.”

Wanda turns at the sound of your voice, and her smile illuminates the space around her, outshining the sun's rays filtering through the windows. A gentle sea breeze teases her hair, softly framing her face. You stand frozen at the top of the stairs, unable to comprehend how everything you’ve both been through, led to this miraculous moment.

“Hi,” she greets in return, nodding towards the commotion outside. “Everybody rushed out. Could be an emergency.”

You shake your head and smile widely, teeth digging at your bottom lip, helpless as a blush taints both of your cheeks. Wanda looks absolutely stunning, and it's like you're suddenly back in college again, seeing her for the first time. You miss a step, almost causing you to fall flat on your face, just like you did back then.

“I…might have asked Nat’s help to get you alone,” you say with a sheepish grin. “I, uh, I wanted to do something. I-If you’re up for it.”

“Sounds serious,” Wanda teases, perching herself on the handrail. She arches an eyebrow, her eyes reflecting a desire that mirrors your own. It takes every ounce of your self-control, and then some, not to sweep Wanda into your arms and forget about the ceremony altogether. For several seconds, you're silent, prompting Wanda to reach out. Her fingers lightly brush against your arm, and that simple touch sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“What’s the plan?” she whispers, as if guarding a precious secret.

Without hesitation, as if the idea has been burning inside you your whole life, you blurt out, “Let’s get married.”

“You do remember we're getting married today, right?” Wanda says, barely hiding her amusement.

You nod, stepping closer to her. “Yeah, I know. But right here, right now, I want to marry you. Just us, committing to each other without anyone else around.”

Wanda's smile softens, and she steps closer. “Just us?” Her voice is soft, almost disbelieving.

You almost back out, feeling a bit silly. “Sounds a bit selfish, huh? Forget I said it—”

“No, don't,” she quickly says, grabbing your hand. “It's not selfish. It's actually really sweet, considering everything.”

You bite back the admission that this impromptu plan was born just minutes ago. Maybe the real reason couples are advised against seeing each other several hours before the ceremony is due to moments like this. Seeing Wanda in her dress, so beautiful, it's hard not to just marry her on the spot, forget the past, forget the plans. Moreso, there's something different about this second time. You're both older, wiser, each with a richer history that stretches far and beyond. It feels more layered, as if you've both fought harder for this moment than for anything else in your lives.

Taking another step down, you move closer to Wanda, holding her gaze. Your own dress trails behind you, its fabric whispering softly with each movement.

“We’re really doing this?” you ask.

“Getting a second shot at being your wife, especially after how badly I messed up… I never thought I’d get that chance again,” Wanda confesses, standing so close you can feel her breath. You tower a few inches over her, yet you feel utterly helpless under her spell.

“If it were up to me, I’d have dragged you to city hall the moment you said yes,” she adds. “But I wanted this moment to be perfect for you.”

And it is, you think to yourself. You almost take her face in your hands, but at the last minute, you decide against it, not wanting to ruin the meticulous work of those who spent hours making her look so stunning–efforts you deeply appreciate. Instead, you guide her hand to your chest, right over your heart, feeling its steady beat under her palm. A small, fragile thing, but it's filled with everything you feel for her.

“Wanda Maximoff, I take you to be my wife,” you swallow thickly, trying your best not to ruin your own make-up. “I am wholly and undeniably yours, and I promise to keep choosing you, every single day.”

You look into her eyes, and there's a whole universe in that gaze. “You're my love, my heart, my home. In this life, or the next. Today, I recommit my life to you, with all that I am and all that I have.”

For a few beats, everything goes quiet, allowing your words to truly sink in between the two of you. Then, you let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, just as Wanda tries to catch hers.

“And I promise to be true to us, to what we have now,” she replies, her slender frame trembling slightly under the weight of her emotions. You swipe away a rogue tear that slips down her cheek, then kiss her forehead tenderly. Her promise clearly reflects on her past mistakes. Though you've forgiven her countless times, you understand the importance of her saying it out loud.

Taking both of your hands, Wanda looks up at you, her eyes shimmering and full of hope. “I promise to love you, to stay faithful to you, to be yours through and through. You're my heart, my soul, my everything—and I'm going to spend every day proving that to you.”

And with that, you feel every part of you intertwining with hers. You lean in and kiss her, soft and delicate. It's as natural as it's always been with Wanda, as if your lips remember what your minds might sometimes forget.

-

Later, just outside your childhood home, surrounded by your closest friends and family, you still cry when Wanda reads you her vows. She does the same when you call her “My wife”, and then again when you address her using your last name.

The reception, following immediately after the ceremony, officially concludes with the remainder of the fireworks that Natasha had launched prematurely earlier as part of her plan to create a distraction, allowing you to sneak in and have a moment alone with Wanda. You and Wanda spend the rest of the night barely taking your eyes off each other, basking in the presence of everyone you’ve ever loved.

If life has taught you one enduring lesson, it's that the most precious things are never easily won. And you and Wanda, you've proven time and again that you're cut out for exactly that— fighting against all odds, for the love that's worth every bit of the struggle.

[corynation]

Rumor has it

mark sloan x reader

tags: angst, thats about it tbh, im sorry in advanced

She, she ain't real / She ain't gon' be able to love you like I will

You’ve observed her closely, bouncy walk, the smile thats brighter than the sun when it rises. You’ve memorized the notes of her perfume, studied the way her hair is always perfectly done, never out of place. Noticed how perfect she is, in every way possible. Of course he’d fall for her. Hell you’d began to think you were falling for her too. She was young and beautiful, smart and outgoing, innocent and naive. Everything you weren’t.

Nothing had been the same between you and Mark since Lexie Grey had come to Seattle Grace. At first you loved Lexie, admired her. You had been on the same service as her on multiple occasions, and each time she outshined everyone around her. She was diligent and ambitious, the perfect example of what a surgeon should be.

She is a stranger / You and I have history / Or don't you remember

You and Mark had been dating for a few years now, ever since he first came to Seattle Grace. Your relationship had been near to perfect. There wasn’t a time where the romance between you two felt off, from Sunday night dinner dates where you’d cook together, to finishing late night lab work at the hospital together. He was everything you dreamed of in a man, and you only hoped he felt the same about you.

Lately there had been less late night lab work together. Instead you’d get a call from Mark, him apologizing for the workload and telling you not to wait up for him at home. Sunday night dinners still happened. In fact it was one of the few things you held onto to believe in the fact that Mark was still in love with you. That you were the one he wanted for the rest of his life. You were the girl he’d be doing Sunday night dinners with until his last Sunday on earth.

There was this look to Mark, one that you could never mistake for anything but complete adorn. It wasn’t the Mark Sloan look he was known for, the one where his smile would crook and his eyes would gleam with mischief. This one made a softer man of him. His eyes would soften, his mouth would part just a smidge as his lips curled into the perfect gentle smile. That was the look he gave to you every time he saw you walk into a room. You’d recognize it from anywhere. It became your favorite part about Mark because it was owned by you. You were the only one who got that look from Mark.

That is until the day Lexie was paged into you and Marks surgery. The second the doors burst open and a smiley Lexie appeared you saw the tense of Mark dissolve, his eyes soften and glow, and you just knew that under his mask your favorite gentle smile had appeared.

That day you had to step out of your surgery to puke.

She is half your age / But I'm guessing that's the reason that you stayed

“I don’t know Callie it’s just the way he looks at her. Every time I see him look at her I physically feel ill.”

“You don’t think he’s cheating on you with her do you?”

“No, not at all. I know he wouldn’t do that. But I know he doesn’t know how to stop his feelings either, and I just-“ You groaned as your palms met your forehead. “I can feel him slipping away from me you know? Like he’s there with me physically, but emotionally he’s with her. And I get it, she’s shiny and new and I’m just,”

“Y/n no,” Callie began, her fingers wrapping around your wrist in an attempt to grab your attention.

“I’m just dull to him.” You turned to look at your best friend, her face riddled of pity. It was near the same look she gave families when there was nothing more she could do for a patient. As much as you wished there was a way to somehow extract all feelings Mark had towards Lexie and inject them into someone like Alex, there would never be enough shooting stars or candles to grant that. “I can feel the love fall from him Callie. Like there is this string connecting us and someone is slowly sawing at it with a god damn scalpel.”

“Ironic you say scalpel because-“ Callie started before you shot her a look that shut her right up. “yep too soon sorry.”

“What do I do here Callie? How do I keep going to bed at night with him knowing he’s in love with someone else?” The familiar burn of tears began as you wiped your face not prepared to embrace a whole breakdown this early in the morning. As upset about the situation as you were, you were not going to start crying over it in the middle of the hospital that you work at, let alone the hospital both Mark and Lexie work at.

“You need to talk to him y/n. It’ll ease your mind I promise.”

“Oh says the one who stayed with her husband when she knew he cheated.”

Callie snorted at your remark, starting a break out of laughter between the two of you. It felt nice to laugh during all of this. Made you feel lighter.

“Y/L/N!”

I heard you've been missing me / You've been telling people things you shouldn't be

Your eyes met Dereks. He was practically running to the nurses station where you had been sat with Callie. The two of you shared a glance, hinting to Callie it was best if she went on with her day. She smiled knowingly, patting your shoulder as a farewell and went off past Derek. By his furrow of a brow as Callie passed him you knew she’d given him a warning look, you giggled to yourself. If there was one thing about Callie you appreciated the most, it was her protective nature towards those she loved.

“I need to talk to you.” Derek grabbed your arm, leading you to an on call room. Your quick moment of glee dissolving in an instant.

“What is this about Derek?”

“Mark.”

And suddenly you felt heavy again.

The sound of the door to the on call room closing ran through your ear. Drowning out any other noise. Your throat felt tight and your stomach empty. You definitely had to puke, or faint? Maybe both. Something. You had to do something to get out of this conversation.

“What’s going on between you two?” Derek questioned, his hands placed on his hips.

You were silent at first, your body still in fight or flight mode, though unfortunately for you that happened to also be shut down mode. Not much fighting or flighting.

“I’m sorry?” Was the only thing you’d managed to choke out without spilling your guts to the best friend of the man you’d been worrying about.

Derek sighed rubbing his forehead. “Mark thinks you’re cheating on him.”

“He thinks I am cheating on him.” You scoffed, in total disbelief at the stupidity of that man.

“I told him he was stupid for thinking that.”

“Damn right he is. What else did he say?” At first you were just angry, as you should be, but now you had just been curious. How could you possibly be the one cheating when you were the one trying to keep the relationship stable?

“I really don’t think this is a conversation for us, you should speak with Mark.”

“Derek tell me. Now.”

He bit his lip, trying to decide which choice would be the best. “Fine,” he began, his hand pointing towards you, “but you better talk with Mark after. You two can’t keep ignoring each-other and your issues.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever I will.”

“He said you’ve been distant with him. Short with words, not wanting to be around him. Apparently you’ve left his service before because you had long surgeries with him?”

“Oh I’ve been distant. Thats rich.” Despite your efforts to hold it in, you started giggling over the words that came from Derek. Laughing to the point of tears you made your way over to the door, stopping before opening it. “Thank you for telling me Derek. You might want to keep your phone on silent later, Mark is probably going to bug the hell out of you.” And with that you left to go find the reoccurring talk of the hour.

Like when we creep out and she ain't around / Haven't you heard the rumors / Bless your soul, you got your head in the clouds / You made a fool out of me / And, boy, you're bringing me down

“Mark!” You yelled, finally catching the man you had searched practically the whole hospital for. He stopped almost instantly, turning around and flashing you that look he used to.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” He smiled even saying that, his eyes were still soft and he grasped your shoulders with such care and love.

It almost made you mad how he greeted you. The whole action gave the same feeling it used to before you had ever even began to question his integrity.

“I know I’m sorry.” You smiled back at him, no matter what was going on in your mind you couldn’t help but embrace what love he had for you, what love you had for him. It was warm, familiar. Almost made you question yourself on if you had been going crazy this whole time. “Do you mind if we speak for a minute?”

“Yeah, I’ve got all the time for you.” There it was again. Mark being Mark. So charming and sweet, the man you fell in love with.

You led him to a nearby on call room, Mark instantly sitting against the desk as you shut the door.

“So, what is all this about?” The cheeky grin that spread across his face was almost enough to pull you into him. You knew what he thought, and to be quite honest the feelings you had bubbling in you weren’t beside that thought. But still there was a part of you that still knew you couldn’t give in. If anything happened between you and Mark in this moment you would never talk it out with him. Somehow this whole span of events with him today was almost enough to convince you he was only in love with you. And maybe he was, maybe you truly were just crazy and jealous of this poor girl. Though, the longing looks they’d exchange one another, and the hands that would stay by each other for unnecessarily long amounts of time told a different story.

“I just need to talk to you.” He pulled you into his arms the moment he was able to reach you, a small gasp escaping your lips at the suddenness.

“I think talking can wait a minute.” His words were whispered as he leaned into you, lips meeting yours. It was warm and comforting, your muscles relaxing at almost an instant. You were back into the harmony you knew so well, the one you’d been craving to feel for weeks now. Even if you had tried to pull away there was no chance you wouldn’t initiate a second kiss. The feeling that rushed through you was too addicting to want to back away. That was Marks Sloans specialty.

You both stayed like that for what felt like a life’s eternity in the best way imaginable. Really you wanted to stay like that forever. Safe and loved in his arms, the only one he was focused on.

Mark began to slowly back away, a soft smile stretching across his face. “That, was definitely worth waiting for.”

Simply nodding and smiling as a reply to him, you closed your eyes again, fully taking in the euphoria before the gates around your world would fall.

“Mark,” You began, taking a small step back from his embrace. If you wanted to get any of the conversation you had been planning in your head for days -figuring out every word you’d say, even practicing in the mirror a few times- out to him you were gonna have to ruin the moment. Rip off the bandaid.

“Y/n whats on your mind?” He was so sweet. So patient.

“You’re in love with her.” And there it was. Ripping off the bandaid. And god did the bandaid sting like nothing before. Watching his face fall felt like the world was slowly swallowing you, pulling you into the core. All oxygen leaving your body as you were pulled further, and further.

“Her?” His brows furrowed, eyes scanning your face for something, maybe a sign of who it was, maybe a sign that this was all a joke. To be honest you really couldn’t read his expression. It had been so blank yet so sorrowful, remorse and confusion settling together into one.

“Lexie.” And that was all you had to say before all confusion left him. It was as if you had flipped a light switch within him, Mark finally catching onto what was happening. “I’ve noticed Mark, I’ve noticed everything. You staying at the hospital late nights when she was on call, the lingering hands of you both. I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s the same you used to look at me. You’ve favored her in surgeries, hell, you’ve favored her in meetings.”

“Y/n..”

“No Mark, listen to me. Maybe you haven’t realized this all yet, maybe you were oblivious to what was going on, but I wasn’t. God I wish I was Mark. I’ve spent so much of my life this past few weeks just thinking about you two, thinking about us. I haven’t stopped thinking about it all since I’ve first noticed you took an interest in her.” Hot tears started to trickle out your eyes, all emotions finally pouring. “I’ve torn myself to shreds over this. Thinking about what I could do to get you to notice me more, or even just less of her. Thinking of what I could do to get you to love me and only me again. Ive thought so low of myself these past weeks I could barely function as a surgeon. I’ve made myself a mess trying to fix yours.”

Mark studied you intently, trying his best to comprehend everything that was going on. He stood up coming back near you. His hands found your cheeks as he held you gentle as ever, cradling you like the most precious piece of gold known to man. “I’m in love with you y/n.”

“I know you are, I know Mark.” You sniffled, one of your hands matching his movement cradling his cheek. You tried to give him the best smile you could forcing every muscle in your face to follow suit, even if it was the last thing you wanted to show. “But you’re in love with her more.”

His face was one you’ve never seen before. Whether it was realization or just heartbreak, it tore you to shreds seeing him like that. But it tore you more to shreds being with him after everything, and you were down to your last bit of stability.

With a kiss to his cheek and a squeeze to the hand that was still on your cheek, you smiled at him once more, slowly backing away from him. “I love you Mark. I always will. But I can’t stand to see you love her too, and I don’t know if I’d ever forgive myself for staying with you any longer knowing you’re in love with someone else. You go get her, I’ll be okay. And you’ll be okay when she says yes to your first date. We’ll both be okay.” There was tears rolling down both of your cheeks. The room so thick of emotions it started to overwhelm you. Suffocate you further into heartache. You placed one last kiss to Marks lips, you both falling into it deeper than ever.

You slowly backed out of the kiss, wanting to let that be your last memory of you two. It was the rainbow after the storm, the calm after the chaos. With that as your farewell to the man you loved more than life itself, you walked out the room, closing the door behind you, feeling as if you had left your whole being in that room. Like a piece of your soul would forever be gone. Stuck inside that room with the piece of him that had broke.

Those two pieces though, would stay together. Pieced in harmony, placed in only the memories of you two. Something more than you could ever ask for.

Hiiiii :DDD im so sorry this is my comeback lol. Anyway i know this isnt the best, i have not written for a year, and this is also my first reader insert pov ive made so be nice pls🙏🏻

hope you enjoyed (or like arent super sad) <33

also my grammar SUCKS and grammer is so hard so do not even think about how many commas i used wrong okay? okay

[hotcheetogirlluver]

I was wondering if you can do a Levi x Reader where it's a calm romantic setting? fluff pls! (i'm new to your account) also it's post war Levi! after the war please, and give him his tea shop he's always wanted thank you :')

A/N: I really like this one it seems more romantic than the other ones I've made. i really enjoyed making this one. it made me appreciate life for a second. please requests more everybody, I love writing your guy's ideas. there you go new reader, enjoy 💗

Summary: You and Levi have always loved each other. Deeply. Now that the war is over and Titans no longer roam the Earth everyone is at peace. But not fully... Which one of you will confess their feelings first?

WARNINGS ⚠️: none

Romance++++++, Fluff+++++++

(y/n): your name

I also suggest going on Spotify and searching up the playlist, "liminal" for this story. its perfect for this one.

___________________________________________________________

The sky was filled with many colors all blending together perfectly making it look like art. Orange, pink, some red. Pink clouds all gathered, floating absentmindedly in the calm sky. The sun, making its way to hide behind a mountain, still outshined all the lights that were on in random homes.

Sometimes it was a question if humans lived in that reality. The now, peaceful reality. No Titans to be seen. One could finally live their life in a calmful manner. It felt almost unrealistic.

The streets were empty, making the scenery look even more beautiful without people passing through every second.

The cool breeze grazed Levi’s cheek and made his bangs swing. He stared at the sunset dying down with a cup of tea in his hand. It looked like he was stuck in a gaze the way he was staring out into the sun. His eye looked glassy, the sky’s rich deep colored beauty reflecting in his eye. He held his cup of tea up to his lips and drank some of his warm tea. When he lowered the cup, a small sigh escaped his lips.

Having to fight for everything he had currently, the simple word appreciation was not suitable for what he felt. He was glad to finally be relieved from Titans.

He could almost see his fallen comrades joining the sunset, smiling at him and nodding in respect. His heart suddenly felt heavy.

‘I will always remember each and every one of you.’

His eyes turned soft and he stared as they all waved a final goodbye and joined the sun, hiding behind the mountain fully.

Levi couldn't bring himself to look away, as the darkness seemed to take over the once colorful sky. He felt something sit on his shoulder, snapping him out of his trance as he looked to the side to see (Y/n) and her hand on his shoulder.

Her..

His soft look in his eye stayed still.

“That was truly beautiful wasn't it..” She breathed out, also starring where the sun used to be.

He looked back, seeing tiny little dots in the dark soothing sky. Their dim brightness replacing the sun's warmth.

“It still is.” Levi spoke. The corner of her lips turned up ever so slightly. A small smile on her calm features. The breeze brushing her smooth skin. Her hair moved side to side as the wind pushed it softly.

“Yeah… it still is.” She breathed out quietly.

They stayed still for a long moment just admiring the sky. Both lost in their own thoughts.

She was his everything.

(Y/n) (L/n). She served in the Survey Corps with him, and they didn't become friends right away but as time went on the friendship began slowly. Slowly, and slowly as time passed Levi started to think she was actually quite.. beautiful.

When the war started, Levi lost all of his closest friends. Except one. Her. She survived but the war seemed to haunt her in a way also. He now owns a tea shop. A popular one to be exact. She didn't work there but she still helped him clean up the shop every night.

Levi stared down at the ground now.

He was at true peace with his life.

But the only selfish thing he wished for was to be her's.His love for her had grown over the years, something that was not expected from him.

He didn't even know he was in love with her at first, until Hange pointed it out. Levi sometimes thought, ‘what if Hange survived the war?’ …. Where would she sit with her life? He knows if she were still alive he’d continue to go to Hange for advice on (Y/n).

He took a deep breath in. Cold air traveling to his lungs.

“Let's go inside Levi. It's going to get cold,” A quiet voice spoke behind him.

He didn't respond, only nodded.

He grabbed the wheels of his wheelchair and started pushing them forward. (Y/n) tore her eyes away from the sky as she walked inside the shop.

“Every table and counter is wiped down, the floors are swept and mopped, and the dishes are all clean.” She walked to her jacket she left on the counter.

“I..” Levi stared at the especially clean floors.

“I didn't ask you to do that (Y/n) and you know it.” It slightly irritated him that she always cleaned the shop at night. It's his shop, he should be the one doing the hard work.

She put on her jacket and stared at him.

He was simply… gorgeous. His war scars.. were something traumatic but beautiful. His blind eye was nothing to be ashamed of.. because she saw it as beauty he had to him. His bangs he had since his younger years framed his upper face and cheekbones made him stand out handsomely.

(Y/n) smiled softly at Levi. “I know.”

Her tired whisper made Levi look at her.

“Then why do you still clean? You come back everyday to just clean the shop at night. Why?” She shrugged half heartedly, and continued smiling tiredly at him.

“I like being near you,” Levi’s eye looked slightly more awake now. They both stared at each other. (Y/n) staring at Levi full of admiration and.. love. Levi staring at (Y/n) with shock.

“.. Why?” His voice went quiet. In the silence, repetitive small thumps were heard. Perhaps.. his heart.

“Because..” She started. Her eyes having a shadow in them yet some sort of light was twinkling in there.

“Your Levi Ackerman. I'll always want to be near you.” Levi felt warmth fill him. His gaze traveled to the ground.

“I'm Levi Ackerman. The exact reason why anyone should not want to be near me.” She stood still for the shortest second.

Then she walked up to him. (Y/n) crouched down and tilted her head slightly to meet with his pretty eye.

“That's not true. And you know it..” She wanted to reassure him. He knew but it felt like he was doubting himself once again. He just.. He could never forgive himself for letting his comrades die. Levi’s eye looked elsewhere after it met with hers.

“You have to stop pushing me away, Levi. I always stick with you, you know that.” She set her hand onto Levi’s. Heat crawled up onto Levi’s neck and the warm flow of blood rush filled his cheeks.

“I know.. and I hate it.” Her eyebrows scrunched up slightly in confusion and a little bit of hurt. Levi noticed this and continued to speak.

“It's hard to understand why you want to spend your life like this. Putting up with me and cleaning up after me and my mistakes. You could be traveling all around the world right now. I'm just holding you back.” Her hand slipped under his to hold. Levi looked up at her and then to his hand. He almost flinched as she interlocked their fingers together.

“Stop telling yourself these things. I know I can travel around the world. I know that. Stop acting as if you're a burden, and I ‘have’ to put up with you. Because I don't. Out of everywhere on this Earth I would rather be with you because there's no one like you. I adore and appreciate you Levi, and I’m glad we have each other.” (Y/n)’s cheeks turned a light pink and her warm hand held onto Levi’s with such gentleness.

“(Y/n)..”

“I should get going. It looks like it's about to snow.” (Y/n) stood up and pulled her hand away from Levi’s. Levi’s hand quickly held onto her wrist just as she was about to walk away from him.

“Stay here then. I have a room upstairs.” (Y/n) blinked and felt her cheeks warm up on their own.

“That's okay, you need your rest. I'll be back tomorrow,” She was about to walk away but the grip Levi had on her wrist was firm.

“What if I want you to stay?” Levi turned a light shade of crimson as he tried to speak with a clear voice.

“.. W-What?” (Y/n) gulped nervously, her lips parted and her eyes widened.

“What if I want you to stay with me? (Y/n) I…” Levi looked down as his firm grip slightly faltered. His eye looked up at her. His features had a soft look to them.

‘Here goes nothing..’

“(Y/n). I want you to stay with me because..” He shook his shyness away and looked at her again. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were staring at him, waiting for him to finish what he started. And she held this look of.. love?

Love? Did she love him too?

Levi said nothing more but let go of her wrist, and slid down to the palm of her hand, gently holding it in his. His rough hand held her soft hand up to his lips.

A shy kiss to her knuckle.

It felt like the only thing that could be heard was the pounding of both of their hearts. (Y/n) only watched as Levi interlocked their fingers together again.

“Marry me (Y/n).”

“Levi,” She quietly breathed out.

“Marry me.” He repeated and she couldn't speak. Her flusteredness made her breath halt.

Levi awaited her reply with a flushed face.

She snapped out of it once she realized Levi must’ve been waiting for a couple of minutes. Her heart beating as fast as a rabbits, filled with warmth.

“Yes,” She nodded slowly.

His eyes widened, not actually expecting her to say yes.

“Yes?” He questioned.

“Yes,” She smiled and her shaky hand held tighter onto Levi’s.

He pulled her into a tight hug. She sat on his lap, while he hugged her with all the passion he could manage. Her eyes filled with shiny tears and they rolled down her face as she hiccuped.

“(Y/n).” He pulled away but held onto her still.

“What's wrong?” She shook her head and used the heel of her hand to wipe away her tears. Her cheeks growing warm again, as she smiled.

“I’m just so happy. Ya know?” She hiccuped again and Levi couldn't stop himself as he leaned in and pushed a small kiss to her lips.

The saltiness of her tears mixed in with the sweet taste of her lips. She kissed him back and brought one of her shaky hands to wrap around his neck. He deepened the kiss as he tilted his head.

The happiness flowing through the both of them made them feel at peace.

Love surely was a powerful thing. After being in love for many years and not doing anything about it (Y/n) was finally truly and genuinely happy.Snow fell from the sky outside, and hit against the shops windows which both of them didn't see to notice.Almost all of their friends died in the war. Before the war. The two of them missed them with heavy hearts sometimes but.. they had each other. And now, they will live together in peace, for all of their fallen comrades.

(Y/n) and Levi both were laying on his bed in the room above the shop. The fireplace upstairs heated both of them up as they were under the covers. (Y/n) rested her head on his chest as she stared into the fire blankly with almost hooded eyes. Levi stared at the ceiling as he breathed in softly. His chest would rise and fall every few seconds making (Y/n) calm.

“Can we stay like this forever?..” She whispered, the fire’s brightness reflecting in her eyes. Levi held onto her with a somewhat tight grip.

“No.. I have to open the teashop tomorrow, precious.” Her heart ignited at the nickname but she only began to smile small.

“Well then.. for tonight then? And every night after this?” It was quiet for a moment until he spoke in a quiet voice also.

“It would be hard not too once we’re married.” She closed her eyes.

“You were serious about that?” His eyes felt heavy for the first time in forever.

“How could I not be serious about that?.. I’ve always thought marriage is stupid. But.. I want you to be mine for the rest of my life. My love for you isn't a joke.”

(Y/n) opened her tired, now hooded eyes. Still staring into the fire..

“You can at least take me on a couple of dates before y’know.” He smiled small at her words and quietly chuckled.

“Okay.” She inhaled and softly exhaled.

"Does this mean I'm hired now?" She teased.

"I'll check with the manager tomorrow," Levi responded making both of them laugh quietly.

Then there was a moment of silence. Both of them getting sleepier the longer the seconds passed.

“I love you, Levi.”

Levi continued to stare at the ceiling. Feeling complete with her and her words.

“I love you too, (Y/n).” Her eyes shut and the crackling of the fire calmed her to sleep.

“Always..” He shut his eyes too and held her closer.

[chaoticloving]

So... I had this funny request.. See.. What if Reader is a famous personality? Like they are an actor and a singer at an young age? Like they worked for movies like Harry Potter and marvel and then later on took singing as career option which resulted being an awesome choice as their music skyrocketed. So what if One directions manager arranged a collab with reader? And one direction was also a huge fan of her but Harry had a huge celebrity crush on reader which he had hinted alot of times in interviews which fans could see, reader didn't knew them well only that they were a famous band and she didn't knew their names too? as she was rather busy with her own stuff plus she didn't knew fans shipping her and harry? So when they all saw reader at the office because it was kept a surprise for them with whom they were gonna collab so Harry started fan girling? I mean it's just pure fluff and teen love?

Performance of a Lifetime

harry styles x reader

a/n: lil blurb for ya! changed it a bit! plus some cheesy h for you!

Harry’s never felt more excited in his life, entirely exhausted, but had that excited-about-to-vomit feeling inside of him while practicing this dance routine.

Its how all of one-direction was feeling at the moment. Wanting to drop dead like flys but not because they needed to impress a certain singer, joining them for a charity performance.

Y/n was a house-hold name, from a young age of being a child star, working her ass off to be taken seriously without being taken advantage of, she slowly dipped into the world of music before she started to become the face of the music industry. She was doing a joint performance with one-direction this friday as the headliner for the day.

Harry nearly fainted when his managers told him they were preforming with her; he also didn’t hesitate to go to dance rehearsals when asked too. He needed to make sure his performance was flawless but also needed to work up his abs—and by work up he means create.

This afternoon though, will be the first time him and be the rest of the band meet Y/n. Harry new he had some competition over winning the stars heart; both Zayn and Louis were trying suspiciously hard during rehearsal to outshine one another, and Harry hated every moment of it.

Soon enough though, they were out of the showers and changing into more professional clothing to meet the singer. Harry was tapping his foot, rehearsing how he was going to introduce himself and win over the girl.

“You ready?”

“Huh?”

Niall chuckled and wrapped his arm around Harry as they walked down the long hall. “You’re going to meet your celebrity crush! Big day for you.”

“I don’t have a celebrity crush-“

“Everyone has a celebrity crush. Mine in Selena Gomez.” Niall chided. “I think Zayn likes one of that Hadid girls, Liam likes Miley Cyrus, and Louis likes any celebrity that people say are nice—which I think is a good thing honestly.”

“How’d you know that then.” Harry sighed.

“You remember in X-factor days, those stair videos we did?” Harry nodded. “Someone asked who our celebrity crushes were, and I think yours is the only one that hasn’t changed.

Harry shook his head, ignoring and hoping that Niall is the only one stupid enough to remember whatever video. “But you saw Zayn and Louis in practice today? They were trying much more than normal, no way they don’t have a crush.”

Niall shrugged his shoulders. “She’s hot. Of course they do. I mean, if she talks to me and is nice I might.”

Harry shoved Niall off of him and groaned, speed walking away from his friend and trying to catch up to the rest of the boys.

“Wait up you dolt.” Niall yelled. “Don’t be stupid, I follow the girl code—I won’t date, flirt, or fuck your crush—and the bro code—I will hype you up. Scouts honor.”

Harry sighed. He was grateful for Niall’s help, really; but sometimes it gets a little carried away with matters of the heart.

“Hurry up ya pussys!” Liam shouted from the elevator, holding the door open for the boys. He got a smack from the manager, John, who gave him a stern glare for his word choice.

Harry and Niall got into the cramped elevator and watched as the doors closed. Harry watched the red numbers go up, slowly yet not stopping. He started worrying as he got higher and higher, it was less than five minutes until he meets his crush—he shivered at the thought.

The doors chimed and then opened. The boys pushed each other out, Zayn, Louis, and it seems now Liam were all extra eager to meet Y/n. John walked slowly behind the group, typing away on his phone.

The say the assistant who stood up when the men entered and made a gesture for them to follow her. She knocked on the door. “Y/n you’ve got your entourage here.”

“Entourage-“ Liam questioned, before the door swung open.

Y/n glanced over the boys, giving them a once-over, and then opened the door fully to let them in. “It’s nice to meet you all!” She chided, flashing a quick smile. “Come in! Come in!”

The women turned around and sat at the other end of a long table, filled with mood-boards, pictures, and tons and tons of sheet-filled binders. The rest of them joined on the opposite side. Harry didn’t miss the glance Y/n sent him, it wasn’t as confused as the last time though, it was more…curious.

Harry ignored that thought. He’s just being delusional.

“Alright so one-direction I can’t wait to preform with you all this weekend.” Y/n’s assistant handed her a clipboard, and she flicked through the pages. “I see the songs you want to preform, and I must admit, I’m not hugely familiar with your work and would like to go over them.” Her manager nudged her. “Sorry.” She sighed, clearing her throat. “I’d like to get to know all of you foremost.”

Harry blinked, but Liam didn’t. “My names Liam, huge fan of your work—both music and film. I sing, dance, date, you name it!”

“Alright nice to meet you-“

“I’m Louis. Raised in Doncaster. And I like your work too, especially that one song on your last album—the one that goes like “why not me la la—“

“Would it surprise you if I told you he’s a singer too.” Zayn smirked, hand on Louis’ shoulder to get him to stop. “I’m Zayn, and to make the rest quick that’s Niall and the one on the end is Harry.”

“Hello.”

“Hey.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you all. And I’m Y/n and quite frankly I’m ready to get to work.” The boys nodded in agreement, a little afraid. “So...Story of My Life.”

~

“Y/n how was it preparing for this event with a group of boys? Annoying I bet.” The interviewer asked.

Y/n and the boys were in their stage outfits, less then an hour left until their due on stage. Harry had on his black skinny jeans, and a grey tang top, his tattoos on display—trying to go for the edgy, bad-boy look. Y/n had on black baggie jeans and a tight, cropped bra-like shirt to match. Harry liked how they looked coordinated.

“It’s been a trip, honestly.” Y/n laughed. “I didn’t know much about one direction, but I like to think that that I’ve made some friends.” Y/n giggled as she pulled in Harry, her arm around his neck. Harry was quite shocked, first of all, he wasn’t apart of the interview, and second of all, she considered him a friend!

“Can you confirm Styles?”

“Oh yeah. We’re best friends at this point.” He delivered his million dollar smile (with a hint of desperation in there) and felt the heat from his blush on his cheeks rise up. “Nice break from those losers back there.” Harry pointed to the boys behind him, shooting the shit and trying to look better.

“How cute you two look! All matching! Was this on purpose?”

“Uhh.” Harry didn’t know what to say. Luckily Y/n saved him.

“Of course! Gotta have the main attractions coordinating!” She joked, leaning into Harry’s chest.

“How cute of a couple!” Harry’s jaw dropped and could feel Y/n freeze. “I’ve got the others to interview! Good luck!”

~~

How Harry got through the performance will forever be a mystery. How he will face Y/n again is an even bigger mystery.

After the interviews went on, more and more people questioned or reminded him of his relationship status with the star. He couldn't even get much of a break after the show because they swung into even more interviews, some better than others though.

Y/n acted odd though. Harry thought back to different relationships he has had with women he was friends with, none were this close to him, sometimes the hug here and there but never hand holding or arm around the neck constantly. Harry was getting mixed signals and was scared he was misinterpreting Y/n's actions. But the public eye, and his band mates, were always around watching him so it's not like much could be said without fear of someone knowing.

"Alright, I think that wraps up this interview. Next in two." Some manager said.

"Hey." Y/n whispered. Harry glanced around him, no one was near; the other boys sat on a separate couch from him and Y/n, and no praying ears were about.

"What?" Thats how you flirt Harry? Come on.

Y/n smiled though. "I just wanted to say I liked hanging out with you today."

"Really?"

"I wanted to know if you could hang out again, but without everyone else?"

"Like a date?" Harry gasped, voice not even a whisper.

"Yeah? If thats alright?" Y/n asked, looking at the dreamed out Harry who was rapidly blushing. "H?"

"Get ready boys!" ... "And Y/n."

"H were are almost live." Y/n reminded him, fixing herself up and then him. "Wanna answer?"

"Good afternoon-"

"Yes." Harry interrupted the interviewer, looking over at shocked Y/n. "Of course! I know this great place off of some road-"

Harry got knocked with a pillow by Niall, who gave him a rude look.

"Anything you wanna share mate?" The interviewer asked.

Harry smiled, finally looking where he should of been all this time, instead of the girl next to him. He nodded his head, held up high and straightened his shirt.

"I got a date."

[jahayla-parker]

📱SMAUs: The 2 request limit for this applies to 2 of the same character (in other words, you can send in more than 2 SMAU requests so long as it’s a max of 2 per character) this can include fictional and nonfictional characters. Please include any side characters, events/details, or other information surrounding the SMAU request. If you want it to be with a specific type of reader, please be specific. You’ll get a SMAU fic with at least two posts from the reader and 2 from the character chosen.

okay what about freddy x wife!reader where she is also a part of the cast and they are always couple goals and everyone loves them together <3

Behind the Scenes Love : Freddy Carter x Reader

Freddy Carter x wife!reader , Freddy Carter x co-star!reader

Descr: SMAU, Reader is Freddy’s wife and part of the SaB cast and their coworkers love their relationship

Warnings: relationships dynamics including but possibly not limited to; kissing, flirting, etc.

Liked by freddycarter1, shadowandbone, benbarnes, and 693,025 others

yourusername: Did someone say Season 2? 🖤

📸: @/freddycarter1

View all 3320 comments

freddcarter1: did someone say gorgeous? 😍

yourusername: stooppp I love you 🥹

shadowandbone: we can’t wait!

lbardugo: I’m so glad you are the one to take on this role! Couldn’t have picked a better person for the new (to the fans) character! 🖤

yourusername: I’m so honored! Thank you xxx 🤗

benbarnes: pleased to have you back😉

archierenaux3: blood relation doesn’t mean anything 😉😉

yourusername: @/benbarnes @/archierenaux3 hmm 👀🤔

sab_uk4ever: what does this mean?! Is she playing a character who will be The Darkling’s relative like Mal?!

amitasuman_: the fact Freddy was laying on the wet ground to take this photo 🤣 you two are too cute I swear 🥰

yourusername: isn’t he simply the best? 🥰

Liked by lbardugo, yourusername, benbarnes, and 817,328 others

freddycarter1: Black is the new black

View all 531,974 comments

yourusername: not sure how to feel about my real life relative and on screen relative bonding….? Kidding, ily both 🖤🎩

benbarnes: please, we all saw the way you were drooling over your husband’s smile 😌

amitasuman_: drooling is a bit of an exaggeration, but she surely is smitten ☺️

yourusername: am I supposed to be ashamed of that? 🤨

freddycarter1: haha 😘 @/yourusername

lbardugo: rulers of their respective domains 🖤

sab_bts_: I’m dying! This iissss saur cute! 🙌

Liked by freddycarter1, amitasuman_, benbarnes, and 793,025 others

yourusername: Loving this cozy costume 🖤

View all 4320 comments

freddycarter1: You do look pretty cozy, and cute 😉 xx

yourusername: you’re welcome to come cuddle between scenes/takes ☺️

benbarnes: My cloak is much more intricate

freddycarter1: Yet she still manages to outshine you 😏

benbarnes: If it wasn’t for the fact that I know I’ll always be a step lower than y/n in your eyes, I’d feel betrayed, xxxx

lbardugo: definitely looks super soft! Is it fuzzy?

yourusername: It’s velvety on the outside! 🖤

ycn_sab: You are seriously like the prettiest cast member!

freddycarter1: Isn’t she? 🥰

calahan.skogman: New goal: get yourself someone who hypes you up in comments on your own post

yourusername: accomplished via @/freddycarter1🥹❤️ & I will say it’s a great feeling

Liked by yourusername, lbardugo, archierenaux3, and 855,249 others

freddycarter1: Had an ace of a time getting to shoot scenes with the incredibly talented @/yourusername on set today 🎥

View all 7569 comments

yourusername: Had the best time seeing you behind the camera today love 😘

amitasuman_: We could tell xxx

benbarnes: And I thought the most precious thing was watching Freddy break character in y/n’s presence, but the roles being reversed was just as heartwarming 🙌

lbardugo: honored to have the Carter family on our cast and crew team 🖤

cartersonsab: 🥹 OTP!

archierenaux3: The smiles on both of your faces was too much ☺️

Liked by freddycarter1, archierenaux3, yourusername, and 993,025 others

benbarnes: BTS with my favorite couple 📸

View all 4320 comments

yourusername: Ben 🤣 why are you sneaking photos of Freddy and I? Lmao

freddycarter1: at least we look good 🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername: we always look good together 😘

benbarnes: this, this ^^^ is why ❤️

lbardugo: Real life power couple 🖤

archierenaux3: You snuck a photo and this is the best you could do? 🙄

benbarnes: It’s not a contest mate haha

carterfamilyuk: I love them sm 🥲

amitasuman_: this is very cute!

Liked by yourusername, freddycarter1, benbarnes, and 643,178 others

archierenaux3: a much better photo of our cheesin’ cast mates ❤️

View all 3279 comments

yourusername: lol oh my gosh, is this a thing now?

freddycarter1: mate 😂 were you in the bushes to get this shot?

archierenaux3: no comment

freddycarter1: creep

benbarnes: 😂

amitasuman_: If you divs make them stop being so cute on set, I’m coming for you both @/archierenaux3 @/benbarnes

freddycarter1: Nothing could keep me from enjoying being on set with my darling wife 🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername: @/freddycarter1 ilysm ❤️

freddycarter1: @/yourusername love you too darling, always; even if it means we have our own version of paparazzi now 😂 xx

calahan.skogman: this trend is almost as cute as the couple themselves 🤗

crowsandshadows: I’m all for this trend!!!

Liked by yourusername, freddycarter1, lbardugo, and 954,296 others

jessie_mei_li: night out with the cast meant I got to spend time with these two, couple goals much? I think yes! 🥰

View all 6482 comments

freddycarter1: smh, can’t go anywhere these days without having your picture taken, love that 🙄

yourusername: as impressive as that level of sarcasm was dear, you realize how hypocritical you sound? 🤣

freddycarter1: Way to call me out 😒 but I can’t help it, I’ll never have enough pictures of you 😘

yourusername: I meant taking you taking photos of ✨ us✨ cutie ❤️

freddycarter1: My statement applies to both situations ☺️ xxx

benbarnes: absolutely couple goals! Couldn’t agree more

yncarterforever: living for this cast trend rn 🙌

amitasuman_: this is so comfortingly aesthetic 🥰

Liked by benbarnes, yourusername, freddycarter1, and 643,197 others

amitasuman_: Since he taught me how to use my film camera, it’s only right that I share my version of this fabulous couple brought to you by said camera

@/freddycarter1 @/yourusername love you both sm

View all 2794 comments

yourusername: Amita, I love you ❤️ I so didn’t see you participating in this trend lol

amitasuman_: I had to, you two are too perfect!

yourusername: we are pretty perfect together 🥰

benbarnes: Alright, alright, I lost at my own game, I get it 😂

freddyandyn: sobbing, get you someone who looks at you the way these two look at each other 🥹

freddycarter1: damn, we look good 😘 @/yourusername

yourusername: You always look good sweetheart 😍🙌

freddycarter1: * we

lbardugo: wow, we have such a multi-talented cast! This is a great photo 🖤

Liked by yourusername, amitasuman_, benbarnes, and 975,237 others

freddycarter1: Mine, xoxo ❤️

View all 6441 comments

archierenaux3: not Freddy himself participating in this contest 😂👌

benbarnes: This isn’t fair, surely you have an unlimited amount of options to choose from

freddycarter1: Of course I do, have you seen her? How could I not take photos with her? 😍

yourusername: stoppp 🥹❤️

lbardugo: 🖤

calahan.skogman: I can feel the joy in this photo xx

amitasuman_: even away from us lot you two are couple goals ❣️

yourusername: and you’re mine 😉❤️

freddycarter1: proudly, xxx😘

shadowandbone: family 🖤

Liked by freddycarter1, archierenaux3, benbarnes, and 964,127 others

yourusername: Love: My Version ❤️

📸 by my effortlessly talented and humorous husband, AKA @/freddycarter1 xoxoxo 💋

View all 7542 comments

benbarnes: Okay I think we can all agree y/n won this one

archierenaux3: the real winners are @/freddycarter1 and @/yourusername

amitasuman_: life’s true winners and the ultimate couple goals for sure ❣️

freddycarter1: Are you taken? 🥵

yourusername: happily so 😘

shadowsbonescrows: SOBBING HYSTERICALLY

tommyae: didn’t expect a photo of my little brother and my sister-in-law to make me miss my girlfriend so much, leave it up to you two to be such a prime example of pure love ❤️

freddycarter1: you’re so pretty 😍

yourusername: stop flirting over Instagram and come kiss me again 💋

Taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @alex-kazbrekkersimp @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @el-de-phi

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[ashwhowrites]

FD part 4

I am very sorry for how long this took to come out. I hope you guys love it and was worth the wait. As always, I love to see your reactions so feel free to tell me what you thought!

Eddie called and called. Leaving voicemail after voicemail. He was panicking, and he had no idea what to do. He knew that if this moment ever came, he'd be screwed. And here he was.

It didn't take long for the media to find out, and Eddie felt it was leaked. And he knew by who.

They were on the cover of every magazine

"Biggest couple in the world called it quits! But why?"

The fanbase was split, some on her side and trashing Eddie's name. Some on his side believed she was the issue, and that's why she was never public about her relationships. Eddie wanted to come clean right away, but Zack refused to let him.

He said letting the fans try to figure it out would bring more attention to them. But Eddie didn't want anyone turning on her, but Zack believed it would impact Eddie's fame. And Zack only cared about Eddie's career.

~~~

He hated that he had no way to get in touch with her. He wanted to apologize over and over. He wanted to find any type of way to fix the mess he got himself into.

Just as Zack hoped, Eddie's name was in every magazine. A week has passed and no one has even seen Y/N. Paparazzi outside her house, just waiting for the second she walks out to capture how she looks in the breakup stage. But she hasn't made a sound. She hasn't been active on social media, everything on her end was silent.

Two weeks and the media was craving her side of things. Her fans begged that she says something about what happened. Her management team wanted her to speak of what happened, clear her name, and end Eddie's career.

She didn't want to end his career. But she was an artist, and artists show their pain through their work. So, she released a song.

She wrote every emotion she felt, sang with all the betrayal on her mind, and sent the record out to the world. She felt happy with the way the song turned out. She didn't care if people liked it or not. She didn't care if Eddie heard it and was upset. She wanted to take back all the power she lost.

He wanted her because of her famous daddy, she took the title and made it her own.

It didn't take long for "famous daddy" to reach the top of the charts and for everyone to talk about it. The media loved the drama. Articles were written about what each lyric meant and the exact way it related to Eddie.

~~~

Zack was on cloud nine, the exact reaction from her that he was hoping for.

Eddie on the other hand was suffering. He hated how different everything was. The song they made together was so in love and happy. All of that disappeared in her new song, and it made his gut turn.

"Perfect! The pop star has released a break-up single, definitely leading to a breakup album. All the songs will be related back to you. That keeps everyone searching your name and keeps everyone connecting things back to you. You know what we have to do now, right?" Zack asked

"Apologize publicly and leave her alone?" Eddie questioned, but he knew that wouldn't be the answer. It would be the right answer, not the one Zack was looking for though.

"No! This is the perfect time to get you in the booth. Writing the break up from your point of you. She called you out, she embarrassed you, and truthfully, outshined you pretty damn well. She has the power to make the media believe what she wants, we need to reverse that."

"That doesn't make any sense! Reverse what? She sang about the truth. She talked about falling in love and having it all be a plan. She talked about being used for her daddy's name. Everything she said was real, you expect me to make it seem like she's lying?" Eddie couldn't stand this man. But he easily found out the truth about what being famous was all about doing anything to get your name ahead.

"Stop with that nonsense. She's a fucking girl singing about how her boyfriend broke her heart! She's releasing the same shit everyone else is. You are the man, you come out and sing about your side, and everyone always believes the man. You write about how she's lying, she's throwing your name in the dirt so she can come out on top. Every boy who has ever been wronged by a girl will love the song. They'll relate to you. It's you versus her, and you are going to win."

"So she can hate me? So all her hard work is easily thrown to the side all because a man said she was making shit up? Do you not hear how fucking ridiculous that sounds? She has had this career for years, she worked hard to keep her reputation real and that's exactly why she hid away from relationships. You want to take that all away from her?"

"Eddie, I am your manager, I don't give a shit about her. I'm hired to make you a star. I got you the contract with her dad, which he can't get out of no matter how much he hates you, I got you at the top, I got your name known. Your constant arguing about everything is really pissing me off. Write the fucking song, record it, and we will release it."

Eddie watched as Zack slammed the door behind him.

He stared at the notebook in front of him. Countless songs were written about her, but none that villainized her. If Eddie ever got the chance to make it up to her, and he wrote the song, it would take any progress he made.

It was his career or hers.

~~~

Y/N knew with the release of a new song would cause even more drama. But she was tired of being played and being hurt. The release of the song was the first thing that made her smile in days. She felt a sense of comfort when people shared her song and their story. For once, she wasn't alone.

Her management dealt with endless calls, begging for interviews. At first, she wanted to say no, not bother to give him any more publicity.

But if he could use her for her name, why can't she suck his name out for her own benefit?

She had a performance set for tomorrow and an interview following. As she sat in her make-up chair, she hated how sad she felt. Almost like preparing to actually sing the song live, reminds her Eddie did truly break her heart. It wasn't a song she made of random characters, it was her and her pain.

"Y/N? Ready?" Her dad came in, a sad smile on his face. She knew he felt bad for her and he hated that he was stuck in a contract with the boy who broke his daughter's heart.

"Yeah," she breathed, standing up as she checked herself in the mirror. Eddie wanted to use her? Fine, she's going to ruin his career.

~~~

"EDDIE! COME HERE!" Zack screamed, turning the volume up on the TV as Y/N began to sing. Eddie felt like his heart froze on the spot. There she was, looking beautiful as ever. Makeup done to perfection and her hair framed her face nicely. Her face looked soft and angelic. Nothing like the bitterness in her tone as she sang with anger and betrayal.

Eddie felt his stomach drop at the guitar she was strumming. The same guitar they wrote their song together on. The guitar used to have pictures of him in the neck, but now broken hearts filled the empty space.

"Been fantasizing and crying, been romanticizing

About all these boys who ain't never gon' like me

I don't know why I thought it would be different this time

Thought you'd be the one, but you're one of those guys

Can only blame myself, I made it up in my mind"

Eddie hated the sad look in her eyes. Hated that she blamed herself for simply liking a boy. Blaming herself for falling for his lies and tricks.

"See! You did Eddie boy! Here she is singing live, broadcast all over the world, singing that she thought you were different. Maybe we'll put you in acting next." Zack snickered. Eddie hated the way Zack had zero empathy for anyone. Y/N never let the fame get to her, she was real and always felt everything she had with every emotion.

"I guess devourin' all the power is all you've ever known

You're sittin' on an empty throne

Do you get off from holdin' me from my potential?

Are you scared that I might bruise your ego?"

This is the first time Eddie allowed himself to listen to the whole song. He was a coward, and he was scared to face her. He was scared of what she felt and how much she hated him.

He wished he could explain that everything he felt with her was real and that he wished he never made the deal with the devil next to him. He didn't want to be alone, and he hated knowing he was at the top from stomping on her. She was suffering at the bottom while he basked in the glory.

"Thinking of good lyrics?" Zack asked, watching as Eddie stared intensely at the screen.

"Yeah. I got the perfect song in mind." Eddie said with a smirk

After her performance, she moved on to the interview. Eddie was curious as to what would be asked and how she would answer.

The interview started relaxed, the interviewer was polite and asked about Y/N's career and upcoming work. Then moved on to the reason for the song.

"Is it true that you and Eddie broke up because he was using you for fame? The fans believe your song paints that picture. Any thoughts on that?"

"Well, I think the title speaks for itself. But yes, we broke up because he was in it for the name. If honesty means telling you the truth, I mean." She laughed at the end, and Eddie felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. The world knew he was a shallow asshole, but he deserved it.

"Were you ever worried about that? Or had suspicions?"

Eddie wanted to shrink in his spot, remembering how desperate he was to lie to her and have her believe him. How he made her sound crazy for thinking he was out for blood.

"Yes, in the very beginning. I am suspicious of everyone and funny enough, he was the one that made me realize that. When we met he said he had no idea who I was, so I believed him. He didn't look at me like he knew who I was, almost like he was trying to see in me, see the color of my soul. So I thought he was different, he gave me a million reasons to believe it. All his reasons were lies."

But they weren't, and Eddie wished he could get her to believe that. But he lost his place to make her believe his words. There was no trust between them anymore and he was to blame for all of that.

~~~

Eddie focused on writing the perfect song, something that would grab everyone's attention and make her curious enough to listen to it. It was the only way he would get her to talk to him.

Eddie recorded the song and sent it out before Zack could stop him. Eddie wanted to write his side, and his side meant admitting his guilt and regret.

The media jumped on immediately, dissecting his lyrics and quoting them on social media. He smiled at some of the reactions, people still hate him but he was happy he got some respect back from her fans.

" HE ADMITTED HE WAS IN LOVE! @Y/Nmusic!!!!"

"HE QUOTED HER. HE WATCHED THE INTERVIEW"

"Why do I forgive white men so easily? This song has me hoping they make up"

The buzz would catch her attention, he knew it would.

~~~

"Find it hard to say I'm sorry

But I'll make it up to you somehow

I guess we lost our focus

And it's killing me that we could go to war like this

But I'm standing here with you just tryna be honest

If honesty means telling you the truth

Well I'm still in love with you"

Y/N hated that she listened to the song. She hated that her eyes stung hearing him say he was in love with her. She wasn't sure if it was another lie to make sure he looked good or not.

Her fans were quoting his song with their comments. Her feed was covered in him and his stupid voice. She felt bitter that everyone was quick to forget all the pain he caused. She needed to remind herself too.

"will you tell me anything I wanna hear to control how you're perceived?"

She hit the post with a small smile. Fans already blowing up her post and putting his name in the comments. He was quick to dm her and she felt scared to open it. She blocked his number so she could avoid his words, knowing she was too weak to stay away.

"Nothing makes up for what I did. I will do anything I can to show you that I want you over any career. I'm sorry and my feelings for you are real. I am in love with you, I was since the start and there were so many times I wanted to tell you the truth and save you from the pain I knew that would come. I've been selfish. It's time I show you that I want you for you."

She felt herself typing before she could stop herself. "Want me? You say that as your manager writes you a big check. A career that would be nothing without me."

"How can I prove this to you? I will leave the label altogether if it proves that I want you way more."

Y/N stared at the message, leaving his text on seen as she shut off her phone. She didn't know what to think. Did she love him? Would his leaving prove anything to her? Could she even believe that he would do it?

Her head snapped up at the sound of her tv-

"Eddie Munson has dropped his management team and label with a tweet:

"I'm picking the girl. Fuck my management and the label"

Tags!

@lolz-0110 @gaysludge @hmcmlfcyy @omgvirtualcupcakecollection-blog @bibieddiesgf @holyheadharpies99 @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudroomblog @emma77645

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[cwritesforfun]

(Top Gun Maverick) Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader: I Like You

Inspired by the scene in which Bob is introduced lol ;) ***I do not own the lines from the scene - they're in italics and bold. I also do not own the Top Gun Maverick characters*** Y/N = Your Name & Your Call Sign is Lightstrike

Masterlist

Bob's POV

I've been eating my peanuts sitting here watching everyone talk. They talked to me and Hangman called me a stealth pilot. He did say it was a joke though. I don't get it. I saw this really pretty girl in uniform walk in and she went to the bar earlier. I wonder who she is.

I hear, "Hey, is anyone sitting here?" I turn to see the pretty girl standing there holding a beer in one hand and a basket of fries in the other. I shake my head and she sits down before asking, "What do they call you?" I answer, "Bob." She asks, "No, your call sign?" I answer, "Uh...Bob." She asks, "Bob Floyd? You're my new backseater? From Lemoore?" She is who I'm going to be working with. Oh boy, I'm not going to last long at all. I reply, "Looks like it. Yeah." She replies, "Very nice to meet you, Bob. My name is Y/N and my call sign is Lightstrike." I ask, "How did you get that call sign?" She answers, "My first Captain said it was because I fly super fast and can strike at any distance. Some of the boys say it's because I'm super light and I can hit any target. So either way, I can strike." I reply, "Well, it's super cool. It's way better than mine." She replies, "Then you should turn the negative connotation of baby on board into a positive one. For example, babies like to explore, so maybe so do you. I don't know. I'm just going to stick to my drink." I laugh and say, "It's okay. I've accepted it... do you know any of the others?" She answers, "I do, yeah. Phoenix is one of the only females I get along with. I grew up with Rooster. Hangman calls me his little sister. The others are cool too." He replies, "Oh cool. You grew up with Rooster?" She answers, "He's my twin. Can't you tell?" I cough on my peanuts and I hear, "Bob? Are you treating my sister right?" I see Rooster standing there in front of me. I do see the family resemblance now.

Y/N's POV

You look between Rooster and Bob. You think Bob had no idea that you were related to Rooster/Bradley. It's funny. You thought everyone knew. To be fair, you were the quieter one. People forgot about you until you outshined them... then they remembered... THE NORTH REMEMBERS!!! Haha Game of Thrones reference anyone?

Bob says, "I just found out you two were related." Rooster laughs and says, "Surprise! We're twins!" Bob laughs and his smile is so cute. Oh, it is over if I think someone I work with is cute... oh boy... You hear, "How are my favorite twins?" You sarcastically reply, "Funny I thought your favorite twins were Ellie and Ella from last summer? I remember you vividly telling us about your experience with twins and how it was the best you've ever had." Hangman gasps and says, "I'm shocked and proud you remember. How dare you bring up an ex of mine?" Rooster replies, "Technically exes in this case." Hangman replies, "Not you too, Rooster. Damn it, I hate you two. I'm going to get another round." You reply, "Ok, but let's not repeat last year on August 1?" Hangman flips you off before he leaves. Rooster says, "God I hate that he is on this assignment too. If I lose my temper, it's because of him. I'm calling it now." Bob replies, "He doesn't seem that bad." Rooster replies, "Just wait... I think I need another drink now that I'm thinking about this." He walks off and you say, "Rooster is just very negative sometimes. Hangman is overly confident in his abilities, but he is good at what he does. It angers Rooster and they're fierce rivals." Bob replies, "I understand."

Phoenix slings her arms around your shoulder and says, "Hi, please join my team for pool. I know we'll win if you're on my team. Please please please." You laugh and say, "Sure, Phoenix. I'll join. Bob, can you watch my drink and my food?" He nods and smiles.

You walk up to see you're up against Fanboy and Hangman. Hangman exclaims, "Lightstrike and Phoenix... you'll be tough to beat, but I think we can. Right, Fanboy?" Fanboy replies, "I think we can too." You exclaim, "Phoenix, we're going to crush the boys. Right?" Phoenix replies, "H**l yeah!" Phoenix and Fanboy do rock paper scissors to see who will start... unfortunately Fanboy starts... this could be bad. Hangman is good and given the chance to start, he can usually put at least 16 points on the board. Oh boy:( Sure enough, he does. Phoenix goes and ties up the game. Whew:/ ... You and Phoenix end up winning by 4 points. The boys ask for a rematch, but you accept only if they buy you both a round of drinks. They agree and they win round two. Bob chimes in occasionally with funny remarks and you're glad he doesn't seem as quiet as before. He's cute when he's happy.

SKIP TO TRAINING...

You're doing 100 push-ups, see a shadow, see Hangman, and sigh. You ask, "What's up, Hangman? I'm guessing you don't have to do 100 push-ups." He answers, "No I don't, sucker. But anyway, I wanted to talk to you." You reply, "Well, I'm kind of stuck here, so go ahead. Talk away." He laughs and says, "You have no idea how good that sounds. Well you see there's this girl that I really like and I'm trying my best to be on good behavior around her, but she thinks I'm a douche still. I want her to know that I want to go on a date with her and I was wondering how I should ask her out. I was hoping you have ideas on what girls like." You ask, "What are some things she's mentioned before that she likes?" He answers, "She always is drinking Corona and she wears these little charm bracelets every week to the bar. It's really cute how she has things she likes and she's loyal to them." You reply, "God, you're such a sucker for her. Listen, buy her a pack of Corona and a charm bracelet. There's a cute boutique on Main Street called Auntie May's Boutique and they have all kinds of bracelets. Just look around and pick one. When you give them to her, be upfront with her about your feelings for her and she'll be more willing to say yes." You hit 100, stand, and ask, "Why did you come to me for advice? You know my love life is pretty barren." He answers, "I trust you not to make fun of me, and come on girl, we both know Bob likes you. Do you like him?" You answer, "Even if I did like him, why would I date a coworker? It could ruin the mission." He replies, "But you don't know until you try. I don't think Bob is the type for a quickie or a fling. He has seemed all in for you since day one. When we were at the bar, you first arrived and I caught him watching you. He was blushing when I asked him about it. I'm not saying he's the one, but I'm saying, you should go for it." You nod and reply, "I might. Thanks for listening. Bradley will give me h**l if I tell him that I like Bob or if I tell him anything dating-related." He replies, "Yeah well he's your brother who needs to know that you can make your own decisions and live your own life. Screw him not literally but you get what I'm saying." You laugh.

Meanwhile ... Bob's POV

I find Rooster sitting on a bench and ask, "Hey man, mind if I sit?" Rooster answers, "Of course dude. I don't care." I sit down and stare out at the planes in front of me. Wow, I never sit here. I didn't realize how the planes looked from over here. I hear, "Dude? Bob? Hello." I turn to see Rooster looking at me and he asks, "Penny for your thoughts?" I answer, "I uh ... I really like a girl and I'm scared to ask her out." He asks, "Is the girl my sister? You can be honest if it is. I don't mind." I nod and answer, "Yeah, she's just perfect." He laughs and replies, "I wouldn't say that, but she's pretty cool. Look dude, I know you're into her. I see it all over your face whenever she's around. If you like her, I would just be honest and say it. The worst that could happen is she rejects you and you move on or you never ask her out and never know what could've happened with her. Wait for us to be at the Hard Deck this weekend and buy her a drink then tell her. I think she likes you too, but she doesn't talk to me about boys." I laugh.

The Hard Deck ... Y/N's POV

You just arrived at the Hard Deck because Rooster was supposed to drive you and he bailed. He's probably inside, but he didn't drive you, which is weird.

You see Bob waiting outside on his phone, so you walk up and ask, "Hey, is everything okay?" He asks, "Why wouldn't it be?" You answer, "You are outside and on your phone. I just assumed you were dealing with something serious out here." He replies, "No uh ... nothing serious. I was playing a word game as I waited for you. I wanted to see you and ask if I could buy you a drink." You reply, "Sure Bob, I would love that. Let's head in."

You both head inside and to the bar. Bob gets you both a beer then he leads you to a table away from your friends. You start sipping your drink and you notice him start fidgeting. You reach over, put your hands on his, and say, "Hey Bob, what's up?" He exclaims, "I uh... I bought you a drink because I like you. I think you're perfect despite what your brother says and I want to take you out on a date." You reply, "Despite what my brother says? I'm going to bring that up to him later... But wait you like me? I like you too. I was planning on telling you soon, but I didn't know how. Hangman told me to just go for his style, and I did not like that sound." He laughs and replies, "I don't like the sound of that either. So uh we like each other, that's good. Are you sure?" You answer, "Yeah I am. I've liked you since I met you. You're a really great guy, why wouldn't I be sure I like you?" He replies, "There's just other guys here that you could pick." You squeeze his hands in yours, kiss the back of his, and say, "I choose you, Bob. I really like you. I don't like the other guys the way that I like you. You're the only one I want to kiss and date." He smiles and says, "That's good... Um... Sorry if I seemed quiet when we first met, I was intimidated by how pretty you are." You reply, "That's okay, babe. I thought it was cute. You open up a lot more when we fly together, which was fun to discover." He replies, "That's because we're flying and I can't avoid or risk anything in the air." You reply, "Noted. Ask you important things in the air." He laughs and says, "No, don't. I don't want to mess us up." You laugh. 1 month later...

You've been on dates with Bob whenever you're both free. It's been great. You both have lots of fun together and he's been opening up to you more. You've been opening up with him too. He is really cute all the time and you try not to get flustered by it. Your time together flying has gotten more synchronized now that you both understand each other more. It's cool to see how the more you understand each other, the easier it is to interpret how each other will fly that day. The guys are constantly bugging the two of you for beating them at drills, which are not competitions ... they are literally just drills. The boys love to pester you both about your dating life too... they always try to ask questions that make you both blush so much. Rooster is supportive of you two but changes the topic every time someone tries to talk about your sex life. He always yells, "That's my sister!"

[cloveroctobers]

STRAWBERRY CRUSH — STELLA KIDD [Spring Prompts]

A/N: alright, alright you caught me! I may or may not have a crush on Stella and thought it was only fair to write a little something since I am binge-watching after all—currently finishing up season six as I write this! In short: Yes we love Stellaride over here but this one specifically is for my wlw, you’re welcome!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: 6. “I am going to have a magical picnic and you can’t do anything to stop it!” “Yeah, but the bugs can.” + 16. “Your beauty outshines all the flowers.” “Are you sure? The flowers are really pretty this year.” 

WARNINGS: reader is a southern plant/earth lover, this is what it’s like to see Stella crushing but unsure, + written in MY version of HC’s/note form.

᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃ ˖𓍢ִ໋ ᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃ ˖𓍢ִ໋ ᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘

Strawberries require well drained soil, they must be placed on a gradual slope, and receive full sunlight in order to experience successful growth.

That’s something your grandfather first told you, once you were old enough to get into farming.

It’s never left your mind even with his passing and you always had the best eye when it came to picking produce.

Granted, picking that particular item in a mini mart in the city might not be the best choice but Stella made sure to put the red berry on the list.

She wanted the best snacks or else she would leave you hanging on this outing—just like she ditched her second date with the guy from 98–to be with you.

Stella can’t help but to catch a glimpse of you at the end of one aisle, you’re by the freezers now and you’re standing on your tippy toes, teal silk shirt raising above your fitted jeans and revealing tatted skin as you grab a beverage.

The height difference is something she has to get used to and often caught her mind thinking about whenever you were face to face and she would have to play it off as her being tired instead of daydreaming about what your lips would feel like.

“You ready, Stella star?” Your hip is bumping against hers before you carry on towards the registers.

It’s your own personal nickname for her and it has a cuteness to it with your contrast of a southern twang. However when each of you are out fighting fires, you on squad and her on her truck 81, she has to learn how not to miss it as much, as you go forth with using her last name like everyone else.

The man at the register jokes, “You ladies buying the whole store?”

You rack your red nails against the counter, “hm…you sell lottery tickets? My friend here is feeling lucky.”

“I mean, with a babe like you, who wouldn’t be?” He winks at you while Stella raises her brows with a cross of her arms.

He rings up two tickets before continuing with the rest of the items.

You and Stella are grabbing the bags before you say one last thing, “also it’s mango season so you may want to step it up with your mangoes since yours are rottin’ in the back, the last thing you want is for the insects to spread to the rest of the underwhelming products. Now, that’ll be all! You have a good one.”

Stella winks at the man for good measure who scowls at the both of you on your exit.

“His store is crappy anyway.” Stella sasses as the both of you load up her car some more, “There’s a way better one downtown, closer to lake shore.”

“Noted for next time.”

“Ohhh, look at you already thinking about spending more time with little ‘ol fabulous me?” Stella places a hand on her chest dramatically while she makes her way over to the driver’s side.

You smile as you open the passenger side, “what can I say? Maybe I just can’t get enough of you, Stella-Star.” Before climbing into the vehicle, leaving the dark haired woman to be impressed at your charm while also feeling her cheeks warm.

The drive to lake shore drive is full of Chicago’s vibrant buildings and singing along to the radio while you both smoothly move along with the traffic.

The ride felt shorter than it was, like time often felt between the two of you when you had the chance to have it.

Stella was definitely in her head about this, wondering if it was a date and knew chatting about it (unwillingly) with Otis and Joe was a lost cause so she chose to hit up your shared girl friends to see if you gave them any insight.

Gabby and Sylvie were 1000% sure it was a date—although they claim you didn’t say or gave much away when you causally brought it up. Stella even went as far to pick Cap and Tony’s brain before Severide could get a whiff and tease her about how awkward she was being.

Kelly was actually the first one to pinpoint that Stella was “drooling” over you and kept pushing for Stella to just go for it.

He would hint at things and then act like he wasn’t and that left Stella thinking maybe he was trying to set her up! to make a fool outta herself but she believed Kelly wouldn’t trick her like that, especially if this had the potential to be serious.

He had her back and she had his…they were good friends like that.

So when you approached after an extremely long shift with this idea, Stella almost collapsed to her knees.

The both of you rarely had alone time together, it was always in group settings but when you did share conversations privately—Stella felt something shift between you two recently and she was still trying to pinpoint when exactly that happened.

See…there she was being too much in her head about it!

“We should have brought some bikes out here,” Stella comments as she carries her portion of bags, glancing at the chicagoans who flew by on the biking path.

You shrug, “here’s the thing…I never could get that down.”

“What?!”” Stella is shocked, “aren’t you from the south? Don’t tell me you ran or walked everywhere with those roads? Or wait…rode horses?”

You snorted, “I never was much of a horse girl either since my ass and thighs always ended up hurting afterwards AND i watched one kick the jelly out of my Grammy! Call me traumatized from that point on. I left those things to my gramps and brothers to deal with while I spent time with the chickens and cows.”

“And the yams and green beans.” Stella jokes while you walk side by side, scoping out a good spot of greenery.

Pointing up ahead at a hill like portion that had a great view of the water and also the buildings behind you, ending up being the winner as the both of you headed towards the incline.

“I have you know that my family has won competitions for the best veggies! And if my Grammy was here, she’d show off her mountain of photos to you.” You’re stretching out some blankets, one of them being a incredibly soft birthday gift from Brett who claimed that she purchased it from a Portuguese woman who handmade it at the market.

“I’m not arguing with ya there,” Stella raises her hands in surrender, “you country folk are built different…can’t exactly say better but different!”

You scoff with a shake of your head, “you city slickers.”

Stella laughs to herself as you make yourself comfortable, sitting crossed legged before pulling a full on woven basket from behind you.

“Where the heck did you hide that?”

“Can’t reveal all my secrets can I?” You grin, happy that you could surprise her, “I am going to have a magical picnic and you can’t do anything to stop it!”

A picnic on lake shore was not entirely what Stella was expecting…honestly she had no clue what this day entailed besides the fact that all she needed was good snacks to be all in.

She’s getting ready to sit across from you but not without saying, “yeah, but the bugs can.”

“Don’t tell me thee Stella-Star is an afraid of a little green friend.”

“That ain’t no friend of mine,” Stella’s face is scrunched up as she watched the grasshopper get comfy on her portion of the blanket, “…can you uh—get it?”

You laugh, “really?” As you lean forward, holding out a bottle of water so the insect can crawl onto before you lead it elsewhere, “there. Nobody was harmed and everyone is safe.”

“You’re lucky I like you, otherwise I would have stomped its ass out,” Stella huffs as she plops down now staring at the bottle you used, “also that one is yours.”

“Understood,” you laugh once more before opening up the basket to reveal it contents, leaving Stella further impressed as she peeks inside.

It’s such a good day in Chicago, little birds chirping along, the spin on the bike wheels in the distance could still be heard up on the slope, while the wind brushes by from the lake and the sunlight still shined bright although the city’s buildings were as tall as they could be.

There’s a brief silence as you dive into the snacks and take turns from the jug that contained a berry lemonade you actually made, before falling into natural chatter.

It felt right being here with each other and it’s something you already knew that you would want to do again.

You never doubted that.

The sunlight was behind Stella whereas it shined over you. The both of you found that each of you were a beautiful sight to witness and Stella was just glad she chose to wear her hair back into a ponytail since the spring wind picked up every so often.

Soon you’re laying side by side now, just a inch of space in between your heads but close enough to feel the warmth from each other and for you to smell the amber, Tonka, and plum that radiates from her frame.

“You smell good, girl.” You comment, pulling yourself from zoning out while making Stella pry open her eyes.

The way you’re peering up at her, almost makes her choke on her own air. “Thanks,” she manages to wheeze out, “I picked it out myself!”

Stella knows she sounds silly but you find amusement in her pride nonetheless.

So she attempts to clean up, arm cradling the back of her head as a smirk appears on her lips at her next best idea with the compliment flying out of her lips, “Your beauty outshines all the flowers.”

There’s barely a daisy embedded in the grass somewhere up ahead but it’s the first thing that comes out of her pretty pouty lips.

You squint up at her as you question, “Are you sure? The flowers are really pretty this year.” 

You would know better than her with what’s in season and what not but something tells Stella, just by the way you break your stare that you may have some flaws you’re not too proud to speak about and that alone makes Stella frown a bit.

Before she can register what she’s doing, her fingers are reaching for your jaw, pulling your attention back to her’s, “are you kidding?! I’m damn sure and as corny as this is going to sound: you’d be my first flower I’d pick out of any garden. Anybody would and that’s because I said so! My word means a lot ya know?”

Your eyes shine like water but you don’t hold back a snort, “is does huh? Well I guess I have no choice but to believe you then.”

Stella’s chewing on her bottom lip now because there’s something in the air that’s telling her to just plant one on you.

“Stop me at any time,” she starts with a deep inhale, catching your eyes briefly on her mouth.

The corner’s of your mouth lift as you whisper, “do your worst, Stella-star.”

And with her lips on yours, you exhale as Stella breathes you in. Both hands are cupping your face as your lips move together in perfect unison and your hands shift from grasping her shoulder then down to her waist.

She’s watching your face in complete bliss when she decides to pull away but not fully, “was that okay?” She says against your lips.

“More than okay,” you nod at her with a beam before moving forward with another, “and I don’t think I said i was finished.”

Which leads into a full makeout session, and that’s something Stella is usually down for—especially if she’s had some drinks in her system but without the alcohol—she wouldn’t mind being drunk on you.

She’s on top of you now, and it quickly becomes a challenge of who gets to hold that position for the longest, erupting laughter between you two and Stella decides to cave once you both knock forehead’s.

You’re both panting now but there’s still laughter in your lungs and Stella is staring up at you adoringly, rubbing her head, while you caress the shape of her mouth, “what?” You quiz.

“You taste sweeter than I imagined.”

You smile, “so you thought about me in that way? I guess that means you really like me.”

“I couldn’t tell if you liked me!” Stella ran one hand over the top of her hair, clearly frustrated.

You snicker, “I thought I was pretty open with my flirtations but…I really like you too.”

And that’s all that matters to Stella as she’s pulling your face right back to hers.

Strawberries require well drained soil, they must be placed on a gradual slope, and receive full sunlight in order to experience successful growth.

᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃ ˖𓍢ִ໋ ᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃ ˖𓍢ִ໋ ᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘

Continue with my spring anthology prompts here.

[locallixie]

HellooOoO~ can I request a photographer!Yeonjun x model!reader angsty romance (like 5% angst but 95%romance/fluff hahaha) based on Tate Macrae's Song "she's all i wanna be". Thank you thank you~ <3

modeled beauty— yeonjun

> summary . maybe this wasn't meant for you, how could you ever win against someone so perfect?

> genre . angst, fluff, romance, photographer!yeonjun, model!reader, strangers-to-lovers, gn!reader

> warnings . insecurities regarding body image, existential crisis, minor language

(wc) > 3.8k

(sunny's note) ☆ this took way too long as i was slacking off writing this fic. i want something sweet too but after listening to the song, it became so angsty. Sorry in advance!

"Guess what?" Your manager barging into your room with most probably good news by the excitement plastered on his face.

You stared at him, lacking emotions on your face. "Beomgyu, can you please knock next time? Because I almost messed up my fucking eyeliner!" You yelled, immediately going back to lining your other eye.

Beomgyu paced around your room, the happiness not yet leaving his body. He began another one of his tangent, which would take a while for him to snap out of. And too, you needed to focus on getting this eye symmetrical to the other one, or else you are going to have a breakdown."[Y/N], you know how you told me you always wanted to get on the cover of the M.O.A magazine?"

"Uh-huh." You replied just to let him know you were still listening.

"And how it's the most competitive and difficult gig to get in?" He continued, reaffirming common knowledge in the industry you both were in.

M.O.A was one of the top fashion magazine globally. Usually featuring famous and upcoming celebrities, and on some occasions, professional models. The photoshoots were incredibly beautiful, the fashion were trendy and from high-end brands, the makeup were intricate and sometimes deceptively simple.

"I got you into the casting!" A black line slid up your temple in a sudden motion, the eyeliner pen shaking in your palm. Hearing those words that had just came out of his mouth felt untrue, because how?

"What?! How?!" You exclaimed, wiping away the smeared makeup on your face.

Beomgyu smiled, in a definitely not suspicious way. "Let's just say I have connections."

The casting happened on a random Thursday in March, there were models from all over the nation lining up from the casting place to the end of the next street from it. Filled to the brim with stunning visuals, you couldn't help but feel a sense of inferiority while standing there waiting for the same opportunity. You hoped you get in, you really did. If you did, it would completely elevate your career for more and more.

"Look, there she comes!" Someone in line spoke up, gathering every attention and total spotlight. Yeah, there she walked, that beautiful girl with such grace and poised. You didn't stand a chance against her, she was always the victor in all the games. Jang Wonyoung, Gosh, she was so pretty. And gosh, did everyone wanted to be her. The 'it' girl, how could you even compete? As she came into the picture, outshining all the competitions with those elegant vibes.

Beomgyu leaned over to you, though his eyes were definitely looking at her—so were yours, because who couldn't? He quietly whispered, "I'll treat you to a five stars Michelin restaurant if you can get on this month's cover." Glancing at you, just to see an expression that was silently anxious. "But your chances look quite slim, is it?"

Of course, she would be here too. This was a huge, massive opportunity, it was a blessing to even be able to attend the casting. Your hands were shaking, they sweating all of your anxiety. Beomgyu was aware too of how much of a big deal Wonyoung was, he would always be on your side and supporting you. But he also had his own doubts, and one of them was about wether or not you were going to make it to, at the very least, the final selection.

Finally, it was your turn to impress the judges. The room was so bare, surrounded by four white walls, only a small table and a blank backdrop behind where the models would stand. There were three people sitting at the table—the other staff members were in the background. The pressure was real, especially in front of the young fashion powerhouse, Kai Kamal Huening—known professionally as Huening Kai. Ah shit! Beomgyu might be setting you up for failure instead of success.

"[L/N] [Y/N], under Bamtori modeling agency." One of the judges looked through your file, at the same time, reading main points out loud for the others. "Former calendar model, been on five runways, overall good profile."

Another one spoke up, "Alright, could you show us a few poses?"

You began posing, some casual poses that were suitable for fast fashion, some were more vogue-ish poses. They didn't say much, simply looking intently and nodding or shaking their heads. You saw one whispered to Huening Kai, he shot you a glance then returned. You hoped that was a good sign, but all of them were equally hard to read. Gripping the back of your shirt as a way of comfort, eyes trying to find your manager who was somewhere in the room. You were praying, praying on your last hope.

"Thank you, [Y/N]. Next!" That was it? That was all they were going to tell you? You could only nod, thanking them for their time and walked over to the door to leave. As soon as you stepped out of the room, Jang Wonyoung was the next to come. Peering over your shoulder, how the room practically lit up when she stepped in. As if they were expecting her presence more than all of the participants here. Who wouldn't? She knew she was winning, everyone's affection and attention were poured out onto the floor for her.

Such a gorgeous girl that Jang Wonyoung was. A perfect and slim body, a pretty smile that made hearts swooned, looked graceful at whatever she did. She wore the nicest clothes, has the most perfect makeup, has the greatest advances. She was everything that you wished you were, all that you wanted to be.

Beomgyu came by your side, "Good job, take it easy, okay?" You two left the casting place soon after, silent enveloped the entire atmosphere. He knew you felt down, since you barely talk during the car ride, but there was not much he could do for you.

"Hey, even if you didn't get pick, there are still many good gigs waiting for you." Beomgyu smiled, trying to stay optimistic despite himself losing bits of hope along with you. Thoughts flying across your head in a constant manner, Beomgyu's voice of encouragement slipped right into your ear and out the other. Nothing was going to help break out of that blank stare and offline state you were stuck in, he should just give you some space for you to process your own problems.

Beomgyu dropped you off in front of your apartment building, a small and slightly broken-down building with five floors—six if you count the rooftop. Beomgyu had a meeting back at the agency in the afternoon so he must drive back, that was when you two bid goodbyes to each other for the day. You felt bad for your manager, Beomgyu was always working so hard to get you places. He worked his ass out for you to fulfil your dream of getting on the cover of a famous magazine. And worst of all, you just had to burden him with you own internal problems. How could you ever thank him enough?

You sat down on the steps leading to the front door of your apartment building, not wanting return to the lonesome home of yours and drowned in your feelings, at least not yet.

As you were about to contemplate on giving up on modeling, someone entered your vision. Almost come crashing to the ground with their loads of stuff, you were quick to assist. Catching a few large scrolls, them filling up your arms quickly. Your empty hand held the guy to prevent him from falling over backwards.

"Thanks, I would've been dead if it weren't for you." The unknown guy said, his head peeking from behind the large box he was carrying by hands.

"No problem, where are you headed?" You offered to help him carry his stuff to his destination. Poor guy, carrying so much on his own, he was going to risk ruining everything in his possession if he continue like this. You might as well help out when you could.

He kept walking, while you followed behind. "Just a few blocks down."

You two didn't talk too much, exchanging general informations with each other but awkward silent couldn't help itself from interrupting. What was he doing with all of this stuff anyways? You couldn't see his entire face the whole time you have been walking behind him, he didn't turn around once. Not until he stopped abruptly in front of an equally small building as your place, there was an adorable jewelry store on the first floor.

The guy dropped the box onto the front step, finally facing you after the walk to his stop. The build-up to this moment, what was with you and constantly meeting beauts? This random guy that you just met only mere moments ago, had the face of a high fashion model! That outfit, he should be on the cover of ELLE magazine, or a celebrity stylist.

"Thank you, I'm so sorry to make you come all the way here." He apologized.

You shook your head, "No, no, it's okay! I live nearby."

He furrowed his eyebrows a bit, staring at you with strange concerns. Though that expression, he wore it well. Pretty people looked pretty in everything they do, kind of unfair. "Are you crying?"

Panic filled your stomach, what an embarrassment! Immediately wiping away stray tears that stuck on your eyes. To be honest, you didn't know you were crying until someone pointed it out. You probably looked like absolute shit right now, but you would rather gaslight yourself that you looked pretty while brawling your eyes out. Makeup? Smeared. Hair? Messy. Outfit? Wrinkly and full of sweat stains. God, you looked like you have already given up.

"Rough day." You simply explained, to which he could sympathized with. Shit happens, life was just not as easy as what the media might promote it to be.

Encouragement through a sweet smile, "Choi Yeonjun, nice to meet you."

"[L/N] [Y/N], nice to meet you too." You gave a smile back, ignoring the way you presented yourself in front of him.

Yeonjun happily asked, "Do you want to get coffee sometime? I know a really cute café down the street from here." Wether friendly or flirty, you weren't sure. Look at it this way, this invite that now just popped up after the situation you were in, was mostly a way of his to repay for your good deed.

A bit surprised, despite being a fairly well-known model, you didn't get asked out as often as you though you would be. Not to inflate your own ego, but a model should be in some type of high demands, correct? And too, how often does one person get asked out by hot people? Maybe they must have some irresistible charms for getting so many date offers on a daily basis, good for them.

"Yeah...Yeah, definitely!" You replied, your hands shaking once again. Luckily, not because of anxiety but excitement. Exchanging phone numbers, and quiet, awkward glances. That was how you got a date, or a date according to you, solely from how weak your dating game was. Big surprise, you could barely pull to save yourself out of your seasonal depression, especially bad during the month of February.

Beomgyu called you up early in the morning to tell you that you already got booked for a photoshoot, and he was coming over to pick you up in ten. When you received his call, you were still nuzzled in your bed and half-asleep. Literally falling out of your bed like the start of every high school rom-com, almost ripping apart your apartment to find your things. No time to make coffee, no time to make your bed, and absolutely no time to properly wear your shoes.

As soon as you opened the front door of your apartment building, the usual car was already waiting for you with its impatient demeanor. Rushing into the car, you were close to tripping over the steps with one of your shoes still hanging halfway on your foot. The vehicle took no time to began its run, faster than you were able to put on the seatbelt. How the fuck did your manager get his driver license? Beomgyu drive like he was in 'Fast and Furious', like who was he running away from?

"Slow down! Are you trying to get a ticket?!" You scolded, tying the undone laces back together.

Beomgyu glared at you, in the most judgemental way possible. "You are late! Beauty+ magazine is putting you on the cover, and they are waiting at the studio right now." He went back to the road, then at you again. "Did you not brush your hair?"

You pulled down the sun visor, there was a mirror on it for you to check your appearance. Yeah, your hair looked like a mess, bird nest kind of mess. What a mistake it was to immediately go to bed without blow-drying your hair, now those weird, unwanted spikes and curls kept making themselves known to everyone. You felt bad for the hairstylist already, they must hate working with you.

Beomgyu and you ran up three flights of stairs to get to the shooting studio, both having to stop in front of the door to take a breather after that near marathon run. Beomgyu told, breathing heavily through his mouth. "I think I lost my fucking vision."

You opened the door, "Hi, sorry we're late, we ran into a few difficulties on the way."

A staff member came over to you and guided you to the stylists to get you ready, while the others ran over the photoshoot details with your manager. They had put you in a very natural look, subtle makeup, a monochromatic outfit. Embarrassment filled you when you heard the hairstylist physically sigh when they walked into the room, putting down the curling iron and grabbing a spray bottle to wet the hell out of your hair.

Another staff member brought you out to the set, with makeup artist and hair stylist making final re-touches before shooting. It was a simple set-up, a blank cream colour backdrop and a single wooden stool in the middle. You sat down on the stool, flattening your clothing for the pictures. Props to the stylists, for being able to turn you from a seven point five to a ten and a half, trash to treasure with how you showed up to the studio earlier.

"Yeonjun?" You suddenly blurted out, seeing the one holding the heavy professional camera. "Is that you?"

The guy you thought was Yeonjun looked up from his camera, and sure it was him. Flashing the same smile from yesterday, as charming as you remembered, the Yeonjun you just met last night after a terrible casting day. "[Y/N], so you're my model, what are the odds?"

He came closer to get a better look at you, "Wow, you look lovely."

You blushed, saying nothing since nothing came to mind. What a coincidence, was it? The night before, you kept thinking about when you would get to see him again. 'Sometime', so vague, when is this 'sometime' going to be? No fixed date, no specific time period, no text message saying 'let's meet up tomorrow.' Maybe you might be giving yourself false hope, you two literally just met yesterday. Look at you, already obsessed with him. Slow down your heart, you idiot.

The photoshoot went well as per usual, a few snaps and editing, Yeonjun showed you each and every pictures until you were satisfied with how you looked on camera. The majority were denied by you, it was one of those days where everything was not to standard. Your smile in the third picture looked weird, you didn't like how your face practically expanded, that outfit made you seem to weight a little more than you actually did. Only five pictures out of the dozens that was taken got your approval, that was not a lot but enough for them to work with.

However, when you saw your magazine cover at the store next to hers, all the doubts about this career you chose to go into and about the perception of your self image. Maybe this weren't meant for you, not to discredit the amazing team that you worked for this photoshoot, and the talented photographer, but you hated this. You left, couldn't bare taking another look at that magazine cover.

"You look beautiful on the cover, you really fit this type of style." Yeonjun complimented, gazing at the magazine cover across the table from you. His iced Americano halfway finished, the coldness of the ice melting outside down the glass and onto the coaster.

"You think so?" You asked sadly, smiling over your emotions. "Don't you think Jang Wonyoung would fit this more?"

Yeonjun dragged his eyes towards you, thinking for a few seconds before giving his opinions. "She is really pretty, she can pull off tons of style. She does have quite a face and figure for modeling."

You gripped your drink, there weren't anything new about that opinion. Heard from hundreds or thousands of new sources and magazines, sometimes even luxury fashion designers, that she was one of the most beautiful person in the entire nation. No chance of winning ever, forever stuck being a runner-up to someone so great like her. For the next couple years, you were sure no one was going to steal her place anytime soon. It seemed that not a lot, or anyone at all, can surpass a unique kind of beauty such as Jang Wonyoung.

"Don't worry 'bout others too much, think about yourself too." Yeonjun smiled, one held a hidden layer of adoration that lit up in the glints of his eyes. Over a near hundred pictures he took of you last week, he loved every single one of them. There was something in your expression in some of the pictures, so sad yet strangely captivating. A tragic beauty, longing for something unreachable out there. He thought you were genuinely attractive, comparing both the you from the night you two first met to the one in the studio, you were an attractive person in his eyes. In whatever state you were in, regardless of how put together or rough you looked, Yeonjun adored how authentic you were.

You gazed at the magazine with her face on it, "I knew I wouldn't get in."

Yeonjun took the magazine from you over to his side, M.O.A magazine newest model in collaboration with the most admirable fashion designer of the era. He gazed back at you, "You went for the casting?"

Letting out a sigh, exhausted with yourself. "Yeah...Beomgyu went out of his ways to get me in. That's one more luxury dinner missed."

"I'll treat you to dinner." Yeonjun blurted out.

"What?!" You spoke out, dumbfounded in front of the date offer that appeared out of the blue.

Calm and acting like everything was normal, making you think that whatever he felt for you was completely platonic, it was his comfortable personality that acted up. "Do you like steaks? Or maybe you're a lobster person?"

"Wait! Wait a minute!" You interrupted him, feeling a bit overwhelmed with the all the things that was happening at once. "Are you asking me out on a date? 'Cause I— I really have to get that out of the way!"

Yeonjun held your hand, the same enthusiasm on his face. "Yes! Yes, I am asking you out! Was my intentions not obvious enough?"

Unsure if it was anger or bewilderment, or something else in between, were you upset or happy about his proposal. "I thought that was just how you are! I didn't know you took a liking to me?!"

He furrowed his eyebrows, absolutely flabbergasted by your assumption about him. "What do you mean by 'that's just how I am'?! God dammit, I like you, [Y/N]! I think you're such a beautiful person, and you make everything great when you're around, and I would happily choose you to be on the cover of M.O.A if I could!"

At this point, yours confusion had turned into a compliments battle. People in the café didn't know if they should be annoyed or happy for the both of you, they were quietly rooting for the two of you to get together, but was it necessary to be screaming at each others' faces in an absurdly loving manner? But whatever, go you!

You have never heard of this restaurant up until Yeonjun introduced it to you, getting reservations was quite hard as you heard from many of the wealthier people in your neighbourhood. You were wondering how he could afford to eat at an extravagant place like this, especially with a salary of a photographer. Well not to wage shame, it wasn't like yours was any better—could be worse, depending on the time of year.

You two had a good table, with the night view and the summer breeze on the balcony. Starters with a bottle of fine red wine, and some bread with rich oil dipping. Apparently, the restaurant here was given three Michelin stars, which was already an incredible title to have.

"I got a few things for you." Yeonjun began. First, giving you a small box the size of your palm. Inside was a minimalistic bracelet, chic and simple, with only a few teeny tiny white gemstones.

"Do you remember that jewelry store under my place? My friend, Soobin, made all of the jewelries himself. I got the bracelet from him." He explained the origin, helping you put it on your wrist. He has an eye for things, it was one of those accessories you could wear with any type of outfit and it wouldn't look out of place, and look how much it complimented your skin.

Yeonjun put his hands under the table, "And I made you this." He handed over to you a magazine.

This was so cute, using his talents on useless yet endearing gifts. In bold letter was M.O.A, and usual layout that the actual magazine used. The only thing was, it was you on the cover. An absolutely not illegal issue of M.O.A magazine, with one of the headlines being 'the nation's sweetheart.' The contents inside was filled with just pictures of you, from your instagram posts and past photoshoots you did, and even recent unseen photographs from when he asked you to model for his 'creative profile.'

"You're joking!" You laughed, "This is the confidence boost I need!"

Yeonjun placed his hands on yours, intertwining his fingers. "I take it that you want a second date?"

You laughed a bit louder, blushing in joy. If you got accepted into the M.O.A magazine that day, you wouldn't have met him. Yeonjun bombarded you with compliments on how breath-taking you looked,

"I'm serious, you're so beautiful tonight." He whipped out his camera from out of thin air, with the long HD zoom lens attached and everything, "Let me take a few pictures!"

[laceswan]

Shinsou Hitoshi x ballerina!reader Headcannons

Just headcannons really, fluff, not proofread

I honestly might just make mha boys x ballerina!reader a series

“Ballerina” implies fem! btw

(This y/n is largely based on my own story/journey with ballet)

It was maybe a week after the entrance exams, and Shinsou was feeling pretty down about himself. He’d dreamed for so long about proving himself in that exam, making it to the hero course, finally taking real steps toward that lofty goal of his.

He went to a cat cafe one afternoon, just to relax, get out of his own head for a bit. Everything was plush and comfortable inside. Cats were practically everywhere, but one seemed to be calling his name. A slim black cat with green eyes was directly across the room, lying on a couch next to someone his age. Not one to resist the urge to pet a cat, he walked over.

After a little bit of mutually petting the cat, she spoke up and introduced herself. They became friends that day, exchanging numbers when the reserved hour at the cafe was up.

Shinsou felt he could really relate to her. Her story was just like his, in so many ways. Over time he learned that that she was a ballet dancer, and very new to it as well. Most people start when they’re toddlers, and because of that she had a lot of catching up to do. Apparently, people had also told her to just give up, that it was too late for her to start dancing.

He started falling for her when they were sitting in a park, just chatting. She was telling him about a weekend intensive she had just done. It was for adult beginners, she was the only teen there. Some of them were experienced, some of them arthritic, some of them just as new to this as she was. They were learning a step across the floor, and everyone seemed to be getting it. Something about it was tripping her up, and she couldn’t seem to get it right. And as she felt the shame of having to walk while everyone else danced until she could join back in, as shitty as it felt, there was this burning part of her that still wanted to keep going, to get it right, to keep dancing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something so much.”

Shinsou was catching feelings after that. She was so passionate, so driven, just like him. Like a kindred spirit. He knew exactly what she was talking about, that burning in your chest that never lets you give up. Even after all that he went through, all that people said about his quirk, never once did he want to give up, never once did he lose sight of that goal of being a hero.

As similar as they were, there was one major difference. Both of them were in highly competitive worlds, and Shinsou recognized that. He was willing to outshine, surpass, or replace whoever he needed to. Friends were not a necessity to him on the road to being a hero. (Y/n) was quite the opposite. She saw no reason why she couldn’t be friends with the people around her. She wanted to learn from them, make connections. She wanted to belong.

People were actually quite kind to Shinsou in the hero course. Save for a couple of assholes, most were quite welcoming. Even then, his paranoia still kept him cold. He did eventually make friends, but majority of the time he was distant, preferring not to get close to his competition.

(Y/n) tried to be friends with the other dancers. Some of them were sweet, specifically the younger ones she was forced to dance with, being at a lower level. But the ones her age, the ones who already had their pointe shoes and had been dancing since they were three years old, they were mean. It was never outright, never overt, but the venom in their voices was undeniable. There was judgement, gatekeeping, eventual jealousy. She never really found that belonging. And still, that never stopped her from dancing. Shinsou admired that in her.

They trained together. Exercising together was quite common, though the movements were quite different. Shinsou just wanted to generally get stronger, while (y/n) was specifically focused on her core and lower body. Especially her feet. After they had been training together for a while, Shinsou started pulling her feet. She taught him exactly where to put his fingered and how to pull and then push down. On the other hand, she did everything she could to help him train. Often that just meant telling him that she would take him to a cat cafe if he finished the set.

Shinsou fell first. His pining was relaxed, he did exactly act on his newfound feelings and was able to keep things platonic. A little blushing here and there, but he was generally content in never expressing his feelings. They would go away eventually, he told himself. (Y/n) started falling when he was training for the sports festival. It wasn’t a click, but things began to fall into place. His voice made her heart flutter, his touch brought warmth to her cheeks. Was he being more physically affectionate, perhaps? He was certainly hugging her more—and she wasn’t complaining. Her feelings solidified when they were training together one afternoon. They were tired, it had been a long day, and his drive was fading a bit. But maybe he just needed a little push.

“Hey, if you get this set, we’ll get noodles after I’m done stretching.”

He smirked and looked up at her as a new wave of determination washed over him. It was like he was lifting no weight at all.

There was a spark in his eyes when he looked at her, one that sent electricity through her whole body.

She wasn’t one to hide her feelings, and decided that they would most likely stay friends if he didn’t reciprocate. She trusted their maturity, but decided to wait until after the sports festival.

She bought flowers for him and once it was over, she found him outside the building.

Long story short, he was flustered by the flowers and awkwardly accepted her confession, but all was well in the end. Hugs, kisses, they’re dating now :)

She got her pointe shoes around the same time Shinsou started training with Aizawa. There was a lot of joy between them around then. Tired bodies, exhausted from learning and practicing all the time, but absolutely ecstatic at the progress they and the other had made.

“I’m so proud of you!” Words said all the goddamn time between them.

(y/n) was particularly impressed with Shinsou’s ability with the scarf, especially considering its weight. Shinsou had become very familiar with her ability over their many training sessions. He noticed that maybe a week into her pointe training, her feet were getting notable stronger. Her relevé was higher and she was more stable on her box. It was the one of many physical manifestations of her progress.

Come winter, Shinsou was saddened to find out that he couldn't go see the nutcracker show. (Y/n) was in the mirliton corps, and she was so excited to finally perform. But Mr. Aizawa's a busy man, and Shinsou couldn't miss a single lesson, especially after the joint training battles. When he told her about it, guilt laden in his voice, she reassured him that she understood.

"Private lessons are important. Don't delay your training on my account, okay?"

He made sure to make it up to her though, surprising her with tickets to see the nutcracker from a professional company.

Also fun fact, next year, he brought the whole eraserfam to see her. He even brought flowers. She was now at in a different company, one that suited her better, and in the snow corps. She was placed kinda towards the back of the stage, but even when the spotlight was on the Snow Queen, he kept his eyes on her :)

“Those were the Italian fouettés you were telling me about, right?”

“Mhmm! I practiced them a lot, and I think I got it down.”

“They looked good.”

(Y/n) also became quite acquainted with the UA students. Even before they were dating, she would visit him in the dorms. The general studies students became rather familiar with her face.

Study dates, cuddle dates, napping together, dating Shinsou is so chill. A lot of the time, they just sit in silence, working on separate things, enjoying one another’s presence. With the occasional kiss of course.

(Y/n) met Aizawa too. It was brief, just a little introduction since Shinsou forgot his water bottle at her house and she stopped by to give it to him. After she left, Aizawa turned to Shinsou all like “that was the sweetest shit in the world, don’t you ever let her go.”

Aizawa has definitely interrupted cuddles in Shinsou’s dorm for night checks once or twice.

[panda-writes-kpop]

Sweet Pink Watermelon ~ Sana

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! I hope you all are well. :)

TW: None!

♡ Masterlist ♡ 》》》 Prompt List

A Pink Watermelon Slushie outshines the sun on its brightest day. The sweet beams of sunshine never fail to raise you from a sour mood.

Everyone said that Sana's smile and laughter reminded them of the sun, but you never understood that comparison until you had started dating her.

Her smile had quickly become your favorite thing about her. The way that her eyes would crinkle and light up with joy when someone said something funny or suggested a food place that she liked would never fail to make your heart skip a beat. Her teeth reflected every bit of light that was in the room, and if there was no light, you were sure that her smile could light up a whole room.

Sana's laugh was sweet and tender, just like her. She was easy to amuse, so her laughter was a strong constant in your life. She'd laugh at your corny jokes, or her own joking attempts, for that matter. Sana could be serious at times, but she always told you that smiling and laughing made her life, her work, and the world so much more bearable.

Sana is like gentle sunshine to you. No matter how dark the world may be, she will never fail to light it up with her gestures, mannerisms, or just her presence. You just felt so, so lucky that you got to experience it first-hand.

[nowoyas]

Koi no Yokan 5: find reasons to say yes (Nishinoya Yuu x Reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

Summary: The Karasuno High School volleyball club works towards finals. You spend this time deciding how you feel about your new clubmates.

Warnings: blanket series warnings (general background family stuff)

Word count: ~4000

Yachi yelps whenever you address her unexpectedly. And she's never expecting it, so she always yelps. It's cute in a skittish, scared-bunny sort of way.

This particular instance makes you laugh. "Did I do something to make you scared of me, or…?"

"N-no! What did you, um—what did you need?"

It's the first day that Hinata and Kageyama haven't come for Yachi since you got roped into this manager thing. Variously they have and haven't dragged you into studying, too, depending on the day. You guess Yachi's just more approachable, maybe, or maybe it's that Hinata is more drawn to someone who can match his energy. On the other hand, Kageyama seems to just be along for the ride more than anything, which you get. You gel with him a little better, at least. Yachi, though, you really do want to get to know, so you let your short-sightedness drag you into starting a conversation you haven't fully prepared for.

You toy with your hair idly. You're really not sure how to approach this. When was the last time you even tried? "Did you have a good weekend? I mean, I know we saw each other yesterday, but—you know. Did you?"

She visibly relaxes. You'd like to think your own pervasive awkwardness is putting her at ease. "Mm! Hinata and Kageyama-kun came over to study after practice."

"Oh, good! How're they coming along?"

"They're nervous, I think, but they've been working really hard!"

"Really? That's great!" Uh, fuck—you scramble for something else to say. "Nishinoya-senpai and Tanaka-senpai are working hard, too. I went to Nishinoya-senpai's to help them out Saturday, too."

"A-aren't they kinda scary?"

You wave a dismissive hand. "Not at all. They're kinda goofy, honestly."

"I think everyone's a little scary, still…" she sighs. "It's hard not to, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. But trust me, they're just excitable." Okay, okay. That's good. You're getting somewhere. "Any ideas on the whole manager thing?"

She brightens, flashes a smile. "Yeah, actually! I talked to Hinata a little before he left and I think I've settled on my answer."

"That sounds like good news! Let's hear it."

"Well… two things, really. I borrowed Hinata and Kageyama-kun yesterday for this, but… I'm gonna join. I've been actually working on maybe making some donation posters? I, um, overheard Sensei talking to the coach the other day and it sounds like the club is kinda hurting for money so we can get buses and stuff…"

Shit. She's so much more put together than you are. You're gonna have to step it up if it's gonna matter that you're here at all. "Woah. That's really cool that you're doing that!" You hope your voice doesn't come out too strained.

"What about you, [surname]-chan?"

A nervous laugh. "Well, I haven't thought of doing anything cool to help the team yet, but I am starting to think maybe this whole exam deal was just a pretense to convince us to get on board. Nishinoya-senpai and Tanaka-senpai got me on Saturday, too."

"Wait, that's great! We'll be managing together, then. With Shimizu-senpai, too, of course!" Another sweet little smile.

You are somewhere between "protect this girl with your life" and "do everything possible to make sure this girl does not outshine you".

…this might be what it's like to have a sister.

"Yeah! I haven't given my application to Shimizu-senpai yet. You?"

"Nope! Honestly, I was a bit nervous to go looking for her by myself… there's no practice until after exams now, right?"

"Right. Pretty sure that's having the opposite effect, if these boys are anything to go by. I think Hinata might explode if he doesn't get enough exercise."

She laughs. "Yeah, I sort of get that impression. Do you wanna come with me to track down Shimizu-senpai so we can turn in our applications while we've got time?"

You agree easily enough, and so the two of you make your way to the first floor, where the third years have their classes. Admittedly, you have no idea where to begin looking for Shimizu beyond that. It takes most of the rest of lunch to find her, eventually spotting her in a random classroom. Really, it's the other volleyball club members you notice--the third years apparently eat lunches together from time to time, if not all the time. Asahi is much easier to spot than Shimizu is when you're skimming a room for any sight of her.

It's Sugawara that spots the two of you peeking into the room. He smiles at Shimizu, nods to the two of you. She's quick to greet you both at the classroom door.

"[name]-chan, Hitoka-chan! Did you need something?"

"Sorry to bother you, Senpai." You smile, dial up the charm. "We both wanted to talk to you about the volleyball club?"

"Oh?" Her eyes slide between you and Yachi with interest. "What is it?"

You nod to Yachi. She holds out her club application in two shaking hands. You hold out your own, a touch more casually. Not that it's hard to come off as casual standing next to Yachi. "W-we both decided to join, if that's alright!"

"Really!? That's great!" She takes both from you, eyes lighting up.

Man. No wonder Nishinoya and Tanaka are obsessed with her. She's got this like, gentle smile and shit.

"I'll get everything handled with the membership committee. Since there's no practice until after exams, that gives us more than enough time to get your jackets ordered. You included your jacket sizes in the applications, right?"

"Y-yes!" Yachi says.

You pat her shoulder reassuringly. "Breathe, Yachi-san."

"B-but we're on the third year's floor," she whispers back. "What if we're not supposed to be here?"

"It's fine. Whatever big scary thing happens, I got you."

"O-okay..."

"Thank you both so much. I'll get everything handled, you two just focus on exams, alright? You've both been helping the others study, too, right? How's that going?"

You share twin smiles with Yachi. "Good!" she chirps. "We both helped them over the weekend. [surname]-chan says that Nishinoya-san and Tanaka-san are doing well, and Hinata and Kageyama-kun were working really hard when I was with them."

"That's good. Those four are an important part of the team, so it'll be difficult if they don't get to come to the away games. Speaking of—if you both come find me after school today, we'll need to get you both to bring in permission slips for that."

Oh.

You're so fucked.

~

Okay, cool, fine, no big deal. You have a blank permission slip and a father who's never home to sign it. This is doable. This is a clear issue, and a clear issue is something that can be solved.

You walk home separately of Yachi—after you'd offered to help put up the posters when they're ready, she ran into friends and you don't want to intrude, so you take your blank permission slip and meander out of the school. You guess you'll scratch out some time to study, to freeze some meals, to… something.

Fuck. You really wish practices weren't on hold for exams.

It's not long after you've made your way out of the gate that that swoopy feeling of your feet no longer touching the ground hits you. You shriek at the arms around your waist, wriggle in the hold of your captor—

—your captor, who sets you down with his trademark blinding grin. "Hi," Nishinoya says. "That was a good noise!"

You steady yourself, hand (and now-crumpled permission slip) held to your chest. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I missed you today! It's weird not having practice."

"So you scare the shit out of me!?"

He laughs. "Sorry, sorry."

"You never really sound sorry when you apologize to me," you grumble.

"To be fair, I did call your name when I saw you. You're the one with your head in the clouds. What're you up to? Any plans with all your newfound free time?"

"Cooking dinner. I have food on the slow cooker I need to get to. And then I'm going to study. You know, that thing we're supposed to be doing with all the extra time from not being allowed to do clubs for a week?"

"Hm, that sounds like something schools made up or something. Boring."

"Uh-huh. You know, I'm not gonna marry you if you fail all your exams."

"But you will if I pass at least one?"

"Are you gonna pass any? Believing that studying is a thing people do isn't even step one. It's like, step zero."

"Study with me, then."

He flashes that charming little smile, and you shove him away. "I can't come over. The last thing I need is to burn my house down because I left dinner on the slow cooker too long and it like, blew up or something."¹¹

"So let me come over. We'll study together, I'll be good and quiet and not interrupt your precious brain training time…"

You sigh. "I'm not exactly prepared to entertain guests."

"You don't have to entertain me!"

"The house is a mess."

"So's my bedroom. You live there, what's the problem with it looking like you live there?"

He keeps easy pace beside you as you walk. "It's rude! You're not supposed to show guests a messy home when they come over."

"But you weren't expecting me. So it's not like it's your fault."

"Why are you so set on coming over to my house, anyway?"

"Curiosity. What's wrong with that?"

"I literally don't even have snacks to give you."

Without another word, he grabs your shoulder and steers you off to the side—straight to Sakanoshita. "I'm so glad you brought that up! I can treat you!"

"I think you're fundamentally misunderstanding the role a host and a guest are supposed to play."

"I'm being a friend. Friends buy each other stuff sometimes. Lemme buy you snacks. I'm horrible at remembering to do breaks and then once I actually take one I end up done for the night."

You stop in your tracks, don't let him drag you inside. "What are you doing right now?"

"Hm?" He tilts his head. "Getting rid of your reasons to say no. Why?"

…oh. That's almost sweet.

"…if you're going to insist on this, I can solve the reason for saying 'no' to going over to your house. Let's find a reason to say yes to that instead…?"

He seems to sense your discomfort, the way it seeps into your shoulders but refuses to reach your voice. There's a moment where he just looks at you, blinking, that sort of blank look that a puppy gets before it does the stupidest thing you've ever seen in your life. "Oh! That's easy. Because you want to."

You raise an eyebrow. "Do I?"

"Don't you? We're celebrating since you're joining the team! And you said before that I didn't know enough about you to be in love with you. So I need to get to know you, right? And you should get to know me. There's a yes for letting me buy snacks for you, and a yes for hanging out with me."

"If my end goal were to marry you, maybe."

He pulls you inside, not missing a beat. "I'm not giving up, so it'd be a good idea to start adjusting to the idea now."

You roll your eyes. Smile and wave to Coach Ukai, who's got one foot up on the counter, lit cigarette in hand as you enter. He nods back, raising an eyebrow at the pair of you. "Good day at school, you two?"

"He has too much energy. Please tell the school that their decision to suspend club activities during exam week is going to kill me, personally, Coach," you deadpan. Nishinoya doesn't miss a beat, dragging you towards one of the aisles.

"I'll see what I can do."

Over chips, Nishinoya talks a mile a minute and too loudly, picking up too many bags of chips as he does. "Pick something. I'm buying. What's your solution to not burning your house down?"

"I'm just going to run by my place and make sure nothing is going to burn before coming over."

"I could walk with you?"

"No," you reply, too quickly. You wince a little, try to recover. "I mean, you're grabbing a lot of snacks to carry, and I'll be quick, so…"

He watches you carefully a moment, but simply adds another snack bag of chips to his armful instead of commenting on it.

"And put some of those chips away. We're getting snacks, my dinner is already mostly done and I'm sure your family has food planned."

He pouts. He's gathered a whole armful of chip bags. "You haven't even picked out yours, yet."

"I'm not picking any if you don't put those back and get a reasonable amount of chips."

"Fiiine."

He puts back most of the bags of chips, and you straighten up the display while you mull over two flavors. Once you've settled, you grab one bag.

"Great! You wanna go grab drinks? My hands are a little full."

"Sure, sure, what do you want?"

He tells you what to grab, and you meander off. As he pays, you say: "You know I'm not gonna let you buy things for me all the time, right?"

"Tell me not to, and I won't," he replies, not missing a beat.

You say nothing. On your way out the door, you dip your head to Coach Ukai and let Nishinoya drag you along for what's sure to be a very productive study session.

~

You do actually end up studying. It takes you only a little work to corral Nishinoya into focusing. He sits across from you in his living room, focusing hard on his flashcards with this really intense look. It's laughably easy to tell how well his study session is going; every now and then, you'll notice him grimace in annoyance after flipping a card, or else brighten up a little.

For your part, you work through practice problems diligently, only glancing up every now  and then to observe your upperclassman and make sure he's still working.

It's peaceful. Nice. After a solid half an hour of quiet that you didn't know he was capable of, you stretch, ready to enforce a break, and are interrupted by something fluffy careening into your chest and borderline knocking you over. Aside from the force, it announces itself with the purriest meow you've ever heard, nearly lost—like before, you recall dimly—by your startled yelp.

Nishinoya catches the sight of you—now clutching a fluffy, bob-tailed calico to your chest as it presses its face into yours. "Oh, by the way. I have a cat," he says.

You ignore him entirely. "Oh my gosh, hi baby!"

"This is Soba.¹² She hates strangers, so I can only assume that the fact that she already loves you is a sign that you now have to marry me."

"Not if you don't ask me enough times, I don't—" Soba meows at you, snuggles into your pets with the sweetest little look on her face. Now that she's not scaring the shit out of you, you can properly look her over and zero in on her white-tipped paws. "—she has socks?"

He laughs softly, nodding. "She has socks."

"Amazing. The best cats have socks. Especially toe socks." You shoot him an amused look. "Didn't really take you for a cat guy, though."

"Does being a cat guy earn me bonus points?"

"It gives me an eternal yes to coming over." Soba wriggles out of your arms, only to curl up in your lap. "How are you not constantly covered in cat hair? She's so cuddly!"

"I'm careful and know what a lint roller is," he jokes. "Technically, she's my sister's, but… I mean, she likes me best, so…"

"I think I love her?"

"Marry me, then, and you get partial custody."

"Ask me nine hundred and eighty-four more times and give me unlimited cat access and I'll think about it."

"Deal."

"That aside, how's your studying coming along? I think I heard you swearing under your breath earlier."

He groans. "It's... it's coming along."

"What're you working on? Kanji drills?"

"Yeah... Trying to get everything hammered out before tomorrow. I need exams to be over already..."

"They'll end when they end. I'm so sorry, but you're just gonna have to stick them out. How's your brain doing? I think I smell smoke."

"Without exaggeration, I am going to explode if I do not do something with my body right now."

"See, but this is really unfortunate," you say. "I was gonna ask you to teach me a little volleyball in our break time, but I'm pretty sure moving this baby would be considered a war crime in seventy-three countries, so…"

"You want me to!?" He springs forward, flashcards forgotten. "Really!?"

"Well, your super cool libero skills would be helpful to have on deck so poor Yachi-san's head doesn't get taken off by a stray ball. Unfortunately, until this little cuddle bug leaves, that's not happening."

"…marry me, though?"

"Nine hundred eighty-three. Work hard until the next break and maybe the baby will—"

"Soba! Pspsps."

Soba perks up. Yawns. Crawls right off of you to sniff at Nishinoya's hand. He beams at you. "So, you want me to teach you to receive?"

You smile. Tighten the caps on your and his sodas as a cat prevention measure. "You sure it's a good idea to leave your snacks unattended with the baby around?"

"The baby can't open bag clips," he replies triumphantly, having produced one from seemingly nowhere and clipped both of your chip bags together.

You elect not to mention that any cat is going to have teeth strong enough to rip open the rest of the bag and let him pull you outside without another word.

~

So the rest of the study session is spent like that: long work session involving a purring cat on either your lap or his, fifteen minutes or so of him—badly—trying to explain receiving to you. It's clear he knows what he's doing and what he's talking about, but what isn't so clear is what the hell he means by things like you just gotta bump it like fwah, you know?. Still, you try your best, and breaks turn into passing the ball back and forth—him with ease, you frequently running to pick up a ball you dropped.

"Now you've got it!" Nishinoya cheers after you barely manage to not let the ball hit the ground on one of these sessions. "At this rate, you'll be playing libero for the girls' team before you know it!"

You snort. "Uh, yeah, hard pass."

"Why not? Volleyball's fun, you know."

"I'm sure it is. But A, I suck at it. And B, I'm sort of already in a club. I can't imagine I'd be a very effective player on the team if I'm instead going to all of your practices. And I'd definitely make a bad manager if I'm always going to their practices instead of yours."

"Fine, fine, I concede that it might be a little hard."

"Harder than I'm willing to bother with."

He laughs. You fail another few passes before the break is over, and then you're back inside, back to math and English and kanji and test-taking strategies.

"This is the last one, I think," you say as you settle back in at your seat. "I need to actually eat my dinner at some point, and it's getting late."

"Aw, you don't wanna stay for dinner?" He bats his eyelids at you playfully. You consider hitting him.

"My dinner is already ready, Nishinoya-senpai. No."

You fall back into studying, one last time. You're actually impressed with him—the regular breaks are definitely helping, and making sure they're active has smoothed out his jumpier edges. They were probably a bit more active than he expected, honestly—you're very bad at returning the ball, and he ended up having to dive for most of the ones you actually managed to get back in his general direction. But he's been working hard when he's back at the table, like he's taking this seriously seriously. It's refreshing.

It is with no small horror that you admit to yourself that you could actually get a crush on this guy if he were serious and you let yourself. Luckily, there's a solution to that, one you only have to do half the work for: he stays unserious about you (easy—he isn't serious and never will be) and you don't let yourself develop anything. You're great at not feeling emotions. It's like, your one big talent in life.

So when you bid him goodnight at his doorstep, you smile and wave. He waits in the doorway, reaches out to you before you go. "Wait. [name]-san."

"Mm?"

"For good luck—will you marry me?"

You laugh. Shake your head. "Give it your best, ask another nine hundred and eighty-two times, and I'll think about it, Senpai. But, just so you know, I've seen how hard you've been working, and I don't think you need the luck."

His smile is blinding when you turn to leave.

You turn down the street towards your house, smooth yourself out. The walk is brief, the house empty and quiet like always when you unlock the front door. In contrast to the warmth of his living room, it feels lonelier than ever.

You kick off your shoes, take your dinner to your own living room. Rifle around in your bag for your notebook and instead find a bag of chips—the flavor you'd set aside at the store earlier, deciding to only go with one bag and not burden Nishinoya—with a little note taped to it.

Good luck on your exams!

PS.; you can call me Noya-senpai. it's what my friends call me ;)

Fuck. You really could develop a crush if you're not careful. He's scribbled out his phone number on the note. Despite yourself, you smile and send him a text.

[name] to Noya at 19:48¹³

[name]: by the way, you format a post-script as just P.S. and then the rest of the message

[name]: two dots, no semicolon

Noya: you're welcome

[name]: ...thank you, Noya-senpai

There is a comparatively long pause of about three minutes. You watch his typing bubble pop up, disappear, then pop up again.

Noya: MARRY ME.

[name]: ...981.

Footnotes

11. Y'all are never going to believe this one, but about twenty minutes after I wrote this line, my neighbor's house burned down. Fully gutted. I got some pictures and literally heard it crashing in on itself. No one was hurt, thankfully, and it was not due to being too busy living a coming-of-age romance to keep the crock pot from bursting into flames, but that sure was a sequence of events.

12. Named courtesy of a poll on my tumblr. I choose to believe that people were voting for "grae button" (the results button so I alone could see the results) either to spite me or to force me to figure out an in-fic reason for why the Nishinoya family cat is named "Grae Button". Had there been a tie, I was simply going to add another cat.

13. Military time. Yes yes I'm American. As if it's my fault.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

[white-sinner]

It said that you take requests so…

I know that Baizhu has a medical background and Tighnari and Bennet just kinda know that kind of stuff because of their occupations. What about a trans reader having an adverse reaction to certain medications and hormone treatments like blood clots, pelvic cramping etc. maybe just like fluff or something? It can just be generalized for both trans masc and fem if you want, but preferably trans masc

Is 🏳️‍⚧️ anon taken?

don't go too far i don't want anything bad to happen to you my prince..

Baizhu

Tighnari

Bennett

A/n= hello sure! everyone is welcome here have

BAIZHU

❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ you have been engaged to Baizhu for a couple of years now your friendship started when you two were studying at the akademiya but then going forward it turned into something more if there was a word to describe you two at that time it would be high school sweethearts. Now you work together with Baizhu in the pharmacy but there is something disturbing him and your health has been more than 5 months since you started taking hormone treatments but it is not going as it should.

you were serving a customer when you started coughing and feeling so weak in your legs that you had to collapse after a few minutes to recover you asked Qiqi if she could replace you

"Baizhu can I go home emm I'm not feeling well"

"sure but first sit down I want to check something”

and this is when the panic starts to rise you hadn't told Baizhu about these reactions and didn't want him to worry and before you knew he had already placed you on the bed

“for how long ?”

“w-what?”

"How long have you been like this and you haven't told me M/n.."

at that moment you were speechless the only thing you could do was let tears shed

"shsh M/n it's all right we'll find another way please"

" why s-is it reacting like that?!”

“I know it's hard but every body is different so I think it's causing you side effects”

“B-but”

“M/n please understand that it's dangerous I-I don't want you to end up like me please we are still in time to stop this" in that moment he's not talking to you like a doctor but like a boyfriend worried about the health of his prince he'll let you vent by embracing you

"M/n? My beloved,"

you turned up at Baizhu calming tone.

"I know you are overwhelmed, but please remember your worth. You are incredibly brave and talented, a wonderful boyfriend, and an amazing partner that I am grateful to have.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks, you snuggled closer to his chest in an effort to hide it.

"You are so handsome, my love. So full of passion, and eyes so full of light you outshine even the brightest star in the galaxy. You may not view yourself as such, but please know I view you as the light that shone in my time of darkness. You are the beautiful man that pulled me to my senses and kept me steady, who encouraged me to do my best even if you weren't feeling the greatest yourself. I'll find another way my prince” and so he kiss you softly

TIGHNARI

❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅

you and tighnari have been together for a while now let's say that you are considered as the cupid of sumeru but even cupid can be hit by his own arrow. and since before you started dating with tighnari you've been on hormones

you and Tighnari were in the forest together to analyze the situation in the area when you started coughing without stopping and since you left you were sick and Tighnari didn't want you to come but you had insisted but now?

“hey! M/n what's going on? are you OK?!"

you tried to speak but the more you tried, the more blood comes out

"don't talk I'll take you back to the camp"

as soon as you arrived everyone looked at you and tighnari didn't like it at all you were sick what the fuck did they have to look at! arrived at the tent he made you lie down and gave you some painkillers "do you know what could be causing this reaction?"

“…”

“M/n you coughed blood and bad what would have happened if you were alone what would have happened s-if I wasn't there..”

“Tighnari i-“

“please M/n don't lie to me”

“I think was it the hormones”

“the hormones? how many do you take”

after you show him the doctor card

“what! but there are too many I'm not surprised that you are like this now"

"I'm sorry.."

"about what? it wasn't your fault but that incompetent who gave you the dose"

he kisses you softly and cuddles you for a while

"now rest I have something very important to do"

“what do you have to do?" you see he pull out his bow and his smile disappears

"talking to that incompetent who did this to you"

BENNETT

❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅

you and Bennett have been engaged since you were 15 now you are more or less grown up now you were exploring but something went wrong

“Hey M/n look!”

your boyfriend yells but suddenly you collapse losing consciousness

"M/n!"

he picked you up and look for the first person for help and he finds Kaeya. after a while you woke up

"M/n you're awake!"

yelled Bennett crying

"well you're awake I'm happy"

"the reason you passed out is because you wore your binder for too long" Kaeya said keeping an eye on you like your parent when you come back after your curfew

"don't worry Kaeya 'from now on I'll keep a closer eye on him!”

Bennett said with a smile

[pokidot]

Okay so Im really interested in Kuni as a character in Mandela so I was wondering if you have more backstory for him! Love your smau 💛

here’s something from my drafts for you!

Throughout his life, Kunikuzushi had been plagued by a pervasive sense of contempt towards others. He didn’t necessarily want things that others had, but their happiness went beyond his understanding. He wielded arrogance, looking down on people and treating them with condescension. It wasn't a result of a neglected upbringing, but a genuine lack of concern for anyone beyond himself. Growing up in a privileged household, his mother being the current mayor of Inazuma, only reinforced a sense of superiority that he’s seen his mother carry like a sword.

Kunikuzushi's mother held a vision for the city that involved suppressing activism, peaceful protests, and any form of covert political activity. Her belief was that citizens had grown too audacious with their freedoms and were ungrateful for the city's support. She was determined to wield her power to curb any dissent, a stance that further shaped Kunikuzushi's attitudes towards others.

Raised amidst luxury and influence, Kunikuzushi internalized the belief that he was above the concerns of ordinary people. He reveled in the merits of his privileged upbringing and used it as a crutch, basking in the comforts that shielded him from the harsh realities faced by others. Empathy and compassion were foreign concepts to him, overshadowed by a self-centered worldview. His interactions with others were marked by disdain and indifference. He rarely considered the impact of his actions on those around him, and any form of kindness or understanding was perceived as weakness. While his mother's political vision shaped his perspectives, his own sense of entitlement and arrogance were deeply ingrained in his personality.

Kuni's life taught him that the world should revolve around him, and if it dared to resist, he would take every measure to bend it to his will. Even if it meant embracing an obnoxious demeanor, he was unyielding in his pursuit of acknowledgment and affection. To earn the love he craved, he felt compelled to prove himself continually. And so, he embarked on a journey of excellence, pushing himself to the top of his classes and even receiving an offer to skip a grade as a child. However, the only reason he declined this tempting opportunity was that he found solace in the presence of a classmate named (Y/N). They were the exception to Kuni's competitive nature. Amidst the pressure to outshine everyone, the 10-year-old Kuni discovered comfort in (Y/N)'s company. This classmate, known for playfully throwing Barbie and Ken dolls down a staircase and role-playing a steamy divorce, provided an escape from the constant race to the top. (Y/N) became a crucial figure in Kuni's life, sharing 95% of their milestones, offering support in their own unique way. Despite his tough exterior, Kuni's genuine affection for them surfaced through a tough-love approach, much like what he had witnessed from his mother. Beneath the drive for success and recognition, Kuni cared deeply for them, even if his expression of it was unconventional.

News broke out that Ei remarried, but nobody knew it was a woman. Her now wife, Yae Miko, quickly became Kuni’s step mother via secret marriage. A disagreeable personality and a refusal to keep his mouth shut caused other people to primarily be intimidated of him. He’s a naturally cunning person that has the wit to back him up, making him unpredictable. Yae, ever watchful of Kuni, kept a close eye on him, leading him into trouble more often than not. Though he escaped reprimands for minor infractions like crayon marks on the wall, Yae's vigilance ensured that Kuni's more significant transgressions were definitely overlooked. He knew he had his own ambition to set his mind on and to thrive towards, to divide his pre-established fame by birth into law. Even if he had to step on some toes.

[angelremnants]

Between Strength & Style l L. Laufeyson

PART TWO.⠀...AND LIFTING MEETS DESIRE..

summary : Loki’s probationary stint with the Avengers takes a surprising turn when Thor insists on dragging him to the team’s fluorescent-lit gym—a place he deems far beneath his dignity. His disdain shifts the moment you stride in with effortless confidence, transforming the mundane gym into your personal runway, commanding the room and worse, directly challenging his ego. Determined not to be overshadowed, Loki initiated a playful competition, vying to outshine you as the gym’s reigning fashionista. Yet, what began as irritation soon evolved into intrigue—and an electric chemistry taking place between you and forcing him to confront not only your undeniable allure but also his own battle for self-control. The only question left was: how many Fridays would pass before one of you finally caves in?

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : Mature themes (18+—MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), slow burn, eventual romance, eventual smut, sexual tension & innuendos (lots of it), extremely suggestive content, some graphic fantasies, flirting & teasing, emotional conflict, strong language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 20.2k

author's notes : It always seems that whenever I set out to write a two-shot, a third one always ends up peaking its head. However, I promise that the next and final part will focus on a long, graphic, and unapologetically sinful smut. Truth be told, its scenario is already planned; I just need to put it all together on paper.

In the meantime, here's the continuation of Loki and his darling, who are both complete, sexually frustrated idiots and can’t resist taunting each other as their form of aggressive flirting.

NEW ! — Find the continuation here. (18+)

(ao3 version)

⠀

The Friday gym reunions had undeniably spiraled into something far beyond their original purpose. What should have been a straightforward workout session had evolved into a full-blown theater of absurdity—a weekly unscheduled spectacle of clashing egos and sharper-than-steel wits. And at the center of it all stood Loki. Naturally.

The gym was buzzing, its usual hum of machinery and clatter of weights eclipsed by the palpable tension in the air. The room itself, sterile with its fluorescent lights and dull grey walls, was wholly unworthy of the drama that unfolded within it, yet it served as the perfect stage.

And the spectacle? Oh, it wasn’t just between the two of you anymore. No, your little rivalry had become something of a legend around the installation. What had started as harmless banter and subtle challenges had escalated into something so magnetic that it drew an audience every week. From agents to staff, everyone whispered about it. About the mischief-maker and the defiant contender, locking horns like some modern-day myth.

The Avengers themselves had taken notice, watching from the sidelines with varying degrees of amusement. Rumor had it that bets were now circulating—some on who would break first, others on who would escalate the stakes further. Tony Stark, naturally, spearheaded the betting pool, gleefully collecting wagers and throwing in his cheeky commentary. 

“So, who do you think’s gonna crack first?” The self-made genius leaned against the wall with a practiced nonchalance, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the scene with a smirk. His eyes glinted with merriment, as if he were enjoying a private show. “I’ve got ten bucks on Rock of Ages. The guy’s a walking disaster zone. You know he can’t help himself—whether it’s stirring the pot or keeping it in his pants.”

Sam Wilson, ever the provocateur, grinned as he adjusted the Velcro on his gloves. “Nah, you’re on, Stark. I’m betting on [Y/N]. I mean, seriously, have you seen the way she looks at him? It’s like watching a countdown to an explosion. She’ll snap before Loki even knows what hit him.”

Tony smirked, shifting his weight against the wall. “Nah, Tweety, you’ve got it backward. My money’s still on him. He’s like a walking ego trip—he won’t stop until he’s the center of her universe. And let’s be honest, he’s not exactly subtle about it.”

Bucky snorted, adjusting the weights on his barbell. “You guys seriously underestimate her. She’s got more self-control than all of us combined. If anyone’s gonna break first, it’s Loki. Trust me on this one, Loki’s the one walking the edge.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “Oh, really? And what’s your bet, then? That she’s gonna keep her cool while he spirals into one of his melodramatic fits?”

Bucky shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Something like that. She’s too level-headed to let him get under her skin—at least not in the way he’s hoping. Loki’s gonna be the one who can’t handle it when the tables turn.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, man. Have you seen the way she looks at him when he’s pulling one of his stunts? It’s like she’s deciding whether to throttle him or kiss him. My money says throttle.”

The billionaire wasn’t having it. “Come on, Barnes. You’ve seen her. Whenever he pulls that whole ‘smooth criminal’ act, you can practically see the gears turning in her head as she fights not to roll her eyes. It’s like watching someone wrestle a hurricane.”

Sam chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back against a nearby column. “I’m sticking to my call—she’s gonna fold first. She’s already hanging by a thread. Loki thrives on the chaos, and let’s face it—she’s the perfect fuel for his fire. I mean, come on, she’s probably the only one getting off on telling him to shut up.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing the barbell and settling onto the bench. “You guys are ridiculous. This isn’t some rom-com. She’s not gonna fall for his games, and he’s not gonna win whatever twisted competition he thinks they’re having.”

Sam grinned, nudging Tony with his elbow. “We’ll see, man. We’ll see.”

The gym door swung open suddenly, and the chatter died instantly as the god of mischief sauntered in with his signature swagger. It was as if the very air shifted to accommodate him, growing heavier with an almost theatrical tension. He didn’t just walk into the room; he commanded it, his dark leather boots clicking softly against the polished floor with the precision of an orchestra’s opening note.

“Gentlemen,” he drawled, his voice a rich, velvety purr that seemed to coat every syllable with smug satisfaction. He leaned against the doorframe, one ankle crossed casually over the other, and surveyed the room like a monarch appraising his court. “I couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation. How terribly entertaining it is to know you spend so much time obsessing over me. Tell me—what would you all do without my dazzling presence?”

Tony, unimpressed, barely looked up from where he was fiddling with his smartwatch. “Probably get some peace and quiet for once,” he quipped, his tone dry but playful. “But hey, where’s the fun in that?”

Loki’s grin widened, shark-like and infuriatingly self-assured. “Ah, but peace is so dreadfully dull, isn’t it?” he countered smoothly, pushing off the doorframe and strolling further into the room. His presence seemed to expand as he moved, drawing the attention of everyone present without effort. 

“No excitement, no discord, no… amusement,” he added, letting his eyes flicker over each of them before landing on Sam, his grin turning predatory. “And as for your little gossip regarding my dear [Y/N]… rest assured, she’s already under my spell. It’s only a matter of time before she succumbs to her undeniable attraction to me.”

Bucky scoffed at the declaration. “Man, you’re cocky. You really think she’s just gonna roll over and swoon?”

Loki’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, I don’t think—I know. The lady simply needs time to come to terms with the inevitable. Resistance, after all, is futile.”

Sam let out a bark of laughter, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone who still thinks capes are sexy.”

Loki arched a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow, the picture of aloof elegance. “Capes are timeless,” he replied, a gleam of mischief in his eye. “And as for confidence… I simply speak the truth. She will come to see it soon enough.”

Bucky muttered under his breath as he pushed the barbell up. “You’re delusional.”

Loki’s sharp gaze flicked toward him, but his smirk remained firmly in place. “Indeed, Barnes, I stand here—utterly delusional, and yet, undeniably irresistible.”

Sam slapped his thigh, grinning wide. “This is gonna be good. Can't wait to rub that win in your faces.”

Before the conversation could escalate further, the heavy creak of the door sounded again. All heads turned as Steve Rogers entered, his upright posture and steely gaze cutting through the buzzing tension like a knife. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, and the room shifted, the previously lighthearted atmosphere thickening with a hint of unease. Steve’s sharp blue eyes swept across the group, taking in the smirks, folded arms, and barely stifled grins, his expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

“What is this?” Steve demanded, his deep voice laced with disapproval. “You’re betting on who’s going to crack first? Really? What are you, a bunch of high schoolers?”

Tony, as usual, remained completely unfazed, leaning back in his chair with a smirk that bordered on outright defiance. “Come on, Cap. It’s harmless. We’re just having a little fun. You know, team bonding and all that jazz.” He gestured vaguely to the others, clearly trying to pass off the situation as innocent.

Steve’s eyes narrowed as they landed on Loki, who had strategically moved to the edge of the room, leaning against the wall in a pose that screamed insufferable smugness. The faintest trace of a smirk curled on Loki’s lips, his entire demeanor practically daring Steve to confront him. “Laufeyson,” Steve said, his voice low and heavy with warning. “I can’t say I expected better from you, but you’re supposed to be focusing on your probation. Not... whatever this is.”

Loki didn’t miss a beat, straightening slightly as he pushed off the wall with an almost feline grace. “Ah, Rogers, always the paragon of virtue,” he said smoothly, his voice as sweet as poisoned honey. “But I assure you, this is all in good fun. After all, what is life without a little… competition?” His sharp green eyes sparkled mischievously, and for a moment, it looked as though he might outright laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. His sense of righteousness was clearly battling with his growing exasperation—and the faintest hint of amusement he seemed determined to suppress. “It’s not about participating in this childish behavior,” he said firmly, though the weariness in his tone betrayed him. “I’m trying to make a point.”

Before he could say more, Tony pushed a crisp five-dollar bill toward him with a wide, knowing grin. “Come on, Star-Spangled Man,” he coaxed, his tone both teasing and strangely persuasive. “You can’t resist. You’re curious now, aren’t you? Just throw a little something down. I guarantee you won’t regret it.”

Steve hesitated, his sharp gaze darting between the group and the smirking god of mischief still lounging nearby. His lips pressed into a thin line before he exhaled heavily, reaching into his pocket. A crumpled ten-dollar bill emerged, and with what could only be described as reluctant resignation, he tossed it onto the table. “This is nonsense,” he muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with reluctant mirth. “I’m doing these sessions for the team. Not for this nonsense.” His piercing gaze landed on Loki, the unspoken warning in his expression clear.

Loki’s smirk widened, his entire demeanor dripping with unbothered confidence. He stepped closer, his long coat swishing slightly as he leaned toward Steve. “Oh, how very noble of you, Rogers,” he mocked lightly, his voice laced with exaggerated politeness. “You’re not participating for the thrill of it, of course. No, no—you’re simply maintaining the moral high ground. How very... heroic. Rest assured, your wagers are well-placed when they rest upon my incomparable charm.” His smirk deepened, practically daring Steve to react.

Steve’s incredulous expression spoke volumes. “Charm?” he repeated, his voice laden with skepticism. “You’re not charming anyone, buddy. This is ridiculous.”

Sam, leaning back in his seat with an arm casually draped over the chair, grinned widely. “Oh, I don’t know, Cap. The guy lives for drama, and let’s face it—we do too.”

The room suddenly seemed to shift again as heavy, purposeful footsteps echoed from the hallway. The doorway darkened as Thor entered, his large frame and imposing presence commanding attention. His storm-blue eyes scanned the room, landing squarely on his brother with a mixture of irritation and faint amusement. “Loki,” Thor boomed, his deep voice reverberating through the room. “What is this nonsense? Are you planning to court Lady [Y/N], or are you simply making a fool of yourself again?”

The room went silent, the air thick with anticipation. All eyes turned to Loki, whose smirk faltered for the briefest of moments before he recovered, his expression once again unreadable. Straightening his posture, he turned to Thor with an air of mock innocence. “Ah, brother,” he began, his voice as smooth as silk, “you misunderstand me entirely. I’m not courting her—I’m merely ensuring she is... aware of my presence.”

Sam burst out laughing, earning a sharp glance from Loki. “Oh yeah? That’s what you’re calling it?” Sam teased, his grin practically splitting his face. “You might wanna rethink your ‘not-courting’ strategy, dude.”

Bucky, who had been quietly observing the exchange, leaned back in his seat with a smirk of his own. “If I were the damsel,” he remarked dryly, “I’d be looking for someone with a little less flair for the dramatic.”

Thor crossed his arms, his biceps bulging slightly as he stared down at his younger brother. “If this is your idea of a competition,” he said with a sigh, his tone laced with both disapproval and faint beguilement, “you’re more of a fool than I thought.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning sharp. “Oh, it’s not a competition, dear brother,” he replied smoothly, his tone bordering on smug. “Merely a game. A harmless game. But rest assured, as always—I intend to win.” His piercing green gaze locked with Thor’s, the unspoken challenge hanging heavy in the air.

His piercing green eyes locked with Thor’s stormy blue gaze, the intensity of his stare unyielding. It wasn’t just a challenge; it was a declaration. The air between them seemed to spark, charged with the weight of unspoken words communicated by the likes of subconscious telepathy. Loki stood poised, his lithe frame radiating confidence, as though he were a predator savoring the anticipation of the hunt.

Thor, towering and broad-shouldered, tilted his head slightly, his eyebrow lifting in skeptical defiance. “A game?” he repeated, his deep voice tinged with incredulity as it rose slightly, the rich timbre of it filling the room. “And what, pray tell, are you battling for this time?”

Loki’s smirk deepened, the corners of his mouth curling upward into a grin that could only be described as devilish. His gaze flickered, a glint of mischief lighting his eyes, but he offered no further explanation. “Pride, Thor,” he said finally, his tone light yet deliberate, the words laden with layers of meaning. “Simple pride.”

As if on cue, the door swung open with a soft, deliberate creak, and you stepped inside alongside Natasha and Wanda, the three of you commanding the room with an understated, magnetic presence. The atmosphere in the gym, already thick with tension and rivalry, shifted immediately, as though the air itself bent to accommodate your arrival. The rhythmic thud of weights hitting the ground and low murmurs of conversation faltered, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to hold the collective gaze of every man in the room.

Each of you exuded an air of effortless elegance and undeniable strength, your outfits blending athleticism and allure in a way that was impossible to ignore. You, dressed in a sleek cropped top that revealed just enough of your toned midriff to hint at the dedication beneath it, paired it with high-cut athletic shorts that elongated your legs. The addition of thigh-high compression socks accentuated your form, lending both practicality and a touch of bold style. Your hair was swept into a perfectly imperfect messy bun, with a few stray strands framing your face like an artist's final, deliberate strokes on a masterpiece. The faint sheen of your skin from the heat outside caught the light just right, and the subtle tint of lip balm made your lips seem more vivid, though still natural—an unintentional yet undeniable invitation to stare.

Natasha and Wanda complemented your presence perfectly. Natasha, in her sleek black leggings and a fitted low-cut tank top, moved with feline grace, her crimson hair pulled into a high ponytail that swayed slightly with each step. Wanda’s outfit, a rich maroon set that clung to her like a second skin, paired with a lightweight jacket tied casually around her waist, hinted at her unique balance of grounded power and mysticism. The three of you looked like a coordinated, unstoppable force, every movement synchronized in unintentional harmony.

The men in the room couldn’t help but take notice. Tony’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise, his usual wit temporarily stolen. Steve, ever the gentleman, tried to avert his gaze but couldn’t help a second glance. Sam and Bucky exchanged a quick look that was equal parts appreciation and amusement, while Thor simply let out a low, approving hum, his broad grin spreading as his eyes lingered for just a second too long.

But Loki—Loki’s reaction was immediate, as though his attention was magnetically drawn to you the moment you came in. His sharp green eyes flickered over you, briefly narrowing with a subtle appraisal that didn’t escape your notice. His smirk faltered for the briefest moment before returning with even more fervor, like a predator calculating its next move.

The tight-fitting athletic wear revealed just enough to catch his interest, and he looked at you with an intensity that felt as if it could set the entire room ablaze. It wasn’t the kind of gaze that lingered on your face or the space between you, but on the curve of your hips and the long, toned length of your legs. He traced the lines of your body with a hunger in his eyes, though momentarily distracted by your planned indifference.

When he met your gaze, the mischievous glint in his expression only deepened. It was clear he hadn’t missed your deliberate lack of acknowledgment, but that didn’t deter him. No, instead, it seemed to fuel the game he was already playing, and he grinned, as though the challenge had only just begun.

“What's up, guys?" you asked lightly, your tone casual, almost dismissive, as you moved past the group. The words hung in the air like a carefully thrown dart, drawing their attention further without giving too much away. You radiated a confident ease, as though utterly unaware—or uncaring—of the disruption your presence had caused.

Loki, of course, wasn’t so easily dismissed. He subtly shifted in your direction, his posture as relaxed as ever, but there was a deliberate intent in the way he angled himself slightly toward you. His smirk was slow and deliberate, his lips curving upward like the promise of a secret only he knew. When you didn’t immediately look his way, he leaned forward just enough for his presence to nudge into your space, his emerald eyes gleaming with mischief.

Natasha raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement, while Wanda shot him a cool, disinterested glance before heading toward the chosen workout area. They didn’t need words; the look they exchanged was enough to say it all.

You stayed focused, making your way to join them with an effortless stride, your movements as fluid as they were intentional. The men couldn’t help themselves, their gazes trailing after you like moths to a flame, though each tried, with varying degrees of success, to pretend they weren’t watching. Tony cleared his throat, shifting his weight awkwardly as if trying to appear nonchalant. Steve adjusted his stance, looking determined to redirect his attention to anything else but failing miserably. Sam gave a low whistle under his breath, earning an elbow from Bucky, who chuckled and muttered something about "respecting professionalism." Thor crossed his arms, his grin unabashed and entirely unapologetic as he observed the dynamic shift in the room.

“Did you feel that?” Natasha murmured quietly to you, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she gestured toward the group with a subtle tilt of her head. “The collective brain cell they’re trying to share just short-circuited.”

You smirked but kept your eyes forward, not giving Loki or the others the satisfaction of knowing you noticed. “Barely,” you replied, your voice low enough for only Natasha and Wanda to hear.

Loki’s grin widened at your apparent indifference, but beneath the mask of arrogance, there was the usual flicker of frustration at the lack of attention from your end. At this point, he thrived on it, and your refusal to grant it to him, even for a moment, was an offense he didn’t want to tolerate anymore. 

Wanda gave you a knowing look, her smirk growing as she took note of the subtle shift in his posture. “Here we go,” she murmured with a quiet laugh, her voice carrying the hint of something much more entertaining to come. Natasha, not missing a beat, threw the dark prince another pointed glance, her amusement evident in the way she silently challenged him.

Still, you gave no reaction, letting him stew in his theatrics for just a little longer. You had a special workout to get to, after all.

You took a deep breath before turning back to face the group of men, fully aware of the apprehension in the room and how everyone’s attention was on you. The air was thick with anticipation, and you played it up, pretending the Asgardian didn’t exist for the moment. 

"Alright, so," you began, your voice light but with an edge of authority. "The girls and I decided to work on agility today. We’re going to try something different for this session." You allowed a small, deliberate pause, letting the words sink in as you watched their faces shift from confusion to curiosity.

They were all listening intently, waiting for more. "You know," you continued, flashing a casual smile, "Yoga. Thought we’d give it a go today." The words came out with just enough playful confidence to keep them guessing.

Tony, still lurking behind a set of dumbbells, couldn't hide the curiosity that piqued his interest. "Yoga?" he said, his voice dripping with skepticism. "You sure you’re not just trying to get out of lifting some actual weight for once, Glamazon?" 

You grinned back, unfazed. "No, actually, I’m curious to see how my core holds up," you said, your voice playful yet sharp with determination, a reminder of the underlying strength you carried in everything you did. "But don’t worry about us," you added with a carefree shrug. "You’ll get your gym session, and we’ll get ours."

Sam, ever the instigator, leaned forward with that cocky grin of his. "I didn’t think you were into that," he said with a raised eyebrow, clearly enjoying the energy shift. "You always seem like you’d rather be running circles around us."

You shrugged nonchalantly, a glimmer of an unknown sentiment flickering in your eyes. "Variety's good, right?" You glanced at Natasha and Wanda, both of whom were already giving off an air of superiority. "It’s about challenging the body in different ways, not just about strength."

Wanda, who had been eyeing the group of men with a gleam in her eye, finally spoke up. "Plus, it’s a great way to get some real flexibility, not just the physical kind." Her voice was light, but you knew the deeper meaning in her words, especially with the way she shot a conspiratory glance at Sam.

You couldn’t help but throw her a grin. "Exactly. Yoga isn’t just about strength. It’s about balance, coordination, and mental focus." You paused, eyes narrowing with intent. "Thought I’d try to perfect my inner zen."

Thor, who had been watching you intently, folded his arms over his chest, his expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity. "What is this... some kind of sorcery?" he asked, clearly puzzled by the shift in atmosphere.

You laughed softly, casting a quick glance toward the men before letting your gaze land on Loki. His eyes were still on you, though his earlier smirk had dimmed. You tilted your head slightly, feigning innocence. "It’s just a workout routine, Loki. Nothing to be concerned about." You let your words hang in the air, a subtle challenge of your own.

Loki leaned in, his voice laced with mock seriousness, but his tone hinted at something deeper, something more intrigued than he'd care to admit. "Oh, I’m not concerned. Not at all," he said smoothly, though the faintest glimmer of doubt danced in his eyes. "But do be careful, pet. We wouldn't want you to overextend yourself... You might strain more than just your flexibility."

You could feel his words crawling under your skin, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, you kept your posture relaxed, almost too casual. "We’ll be fine," you answered politely but with a hint of finality. "It’s just a change of pace." You smiled sweetly at him, then turned away, making a conscious effort to ignore his attempt to rile you up.

As you and the girls began setting up the yoga mats, the entertained demeanor of Tony caught your eye, his grin widening into something that could only be described as smug. "If you need help stretching... I’m more than qualified," he winked. "I think you’re gonna need it."

You shot back a playful glance. "You think so?" you retorted teasingly. "If you want to join us, there’s plenty of space." 

Bucky, who had been watching your every move, let out a quiet chuckle. "You’re gonna make us look bad if we do, aren’t you?" he said, a knowing look passing between you both.

You flashed him a mischievous grin. "Wouldn’t dream of it," you replied with a wink before returning your focus to the task at hand. You were used to their attention by now, and you certainly weren’t about to give them the satisfaction of getting flustered.

You took your place and knelt down to adjust your mat, and you could definitely feel the unmistakable heat of Loki’s glare on your body. But you were determined to remain unaffected. You glanced at Natasha and Wanda, giving them a playful, almost wicked grin. This was about to get fun.

"So," you began, turning casually back to the group of men, your voice smooth but laced with underlying devilry, "the thing about yoga is that it really works your flexibility. And you’ve got to have good control over your body, or things can get a little too loose." You allowed a slight pause, watching the flicker of understanding and interest cross their faces.

You could see Loki’s eyebrow quirked up slightly, the tiniest twitch at the corner of his lips betraying his struggle to maintain composure. "Of course," you continued innocently, "flexibility is key, especially when you’re trying to get into some of those deep stretches."

You made a show of adjusting your position on the mat, arching your back just enough to catch their attention, a calculated move that made Sam’s eyes widen just a little, a grin tugging at his lips.

"You're really showing off with this, huh?" Sam teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he casually leaned against the wall. His gaze briefly flickered to you on the mat before he added, "All that flexibility and focus… if it were me, I’d probably pull something just from the distraction."

You threw him a discreet wink before turning your attention back to your girls, who were already preparing for the first pose. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Bird Boy," you teased. "Honestly, it's just a matter of knowing your limits and knowing how far you can bend... without breaking," you added with a sly, deliberate emphasis.

Steve spoke up, his voice cutting through the tension with an almost casual air. "Alright, alright, calm down there, you two," he said with a bemused chuckle, clearly enjoying the interplay but not wanting things to escalate too much. "Let’s not get too carried away. It’s yoga, not... whatever this is turning into." His gaze flicked between you and Loki, though there was an unspoken understanding behind his words, he was well aware of the subtle play unfolding.

You didn’t break your stride. "Aye aye Captain," you voiced airily, glancing at him over your shoulder. "I’m just giving the guys here a taste of what it takes to stay flexible in more ways than one." You shot a playful grin in his direction, making sure to keep the mood light.

Loki’s eyes flicked from you to Steve, his expression momentarily darkening, as if something behind his sharp gaze shifted. He gave a slow, deliberate tilt of his head, his voice smooth yet carrying an undertone of challenge. "Rogers," Loki began, his tone laced with mock curiosity, "if you truly believe this is all just... stretching and bending, I’m afraid you’ve missed the point entirely." His eyes returned to you, a quiet tension building between his words.

You suppressed a laugh, knowing exactly what he was alluding to, but you kept your focus. You turned toward the men, who were now all clearly intrigued, some with more open curiosity than others.

Tony, still clearly entertained by the dynamic between you, leaned back in his seat. “And what exactly are we supposed to take from all this... stretching and flexing?" His words carried a hint of inviting defiance, as though daring you to continue this little game.

Bucky, still hovering near his weights, gave a soft chuckle, his eyes flicking between you and the green god. "I’m just here for the show," he added, his usual deadpan expression betraying the amusement he clearly found in the whole thing.

You smiled, pleased by the attention, but kept your composure. "Don’t worry, guys," you said with a wink. "You’ll get your workout. But maybe you’ll learn something about balance, focus... subordination. We all could use a little more of that, don't you think?"

"Subordination," Steve echoed, shaking his head. "We’re talking yoga here, right? Or did I miss something?"

"You didn’t miss anything, Captain," Loki’s voice chimed in smoothly, though his eyes never left you. "But you might want to be careful—some people don’t handle that kind of 'subordination' as well as others." His smirk was back, albeit with a more pointed edge now, his voice low with an almost voracious quality as if he was intently mulling over his next move.

"Well, it’s about more than just physical control," you replied, your tone just as smooth as his. "It’s about mental clarity. Knowing your limits... and knowing when to push past them." You threw a subtle glance in his direction, not missing the way his gaze flickered, and guessing that his mind was already working over your words, perhaps taking them in ways you hadn’t fully intended.

"And knowing how to play your cards, I suppose?" Loki's voice was a touch more serious now, his eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze.

You couldn’t help but throw his own words back at him again, leaning into the challenge. "Exactly," you said with a sweet grin. "You’ve got it."

You stretched your legs out in front of you, positioning your body in a slow and deliberate stretch, purposefully showing off the control you had over every movement. "You have to go slow with these," you said in a sweet, yet teasing voice. "Otherwise, you might end up straining something... and we wouldn’t want that, would we?" You took a peek at Loki, knowing full well that your words were likely to provoke him.

His lips twitched, but he didn’t respond right away. Thor, clearly catching on to the subtle game you were playing, nudged his brother. "You know, brother, if you’d just give it a try, you might find yoga quite revealing," he suggested with an amused grin, his eyes flipping between the two of you.

Loki sighed, though it seemed more out of the need to regain his composure than out of actual frustration. "Oh, I’m quite content watching, thank you," he said smoothly, though you could tell he was still too engaged in the situation to fully hide his interest.

You saw the opening and took it. "Well," you articulated, your tone dripping with mock sweetness, "the sidelines are reserved for those who prefer to watch, after all. But if you ever want to get in on the action, you know where to find me."

There was a brief, stunned silence in the room as everyone processed your words. You took the opportunity to focus back on your session, bending into another deep stretch, deliberately pushing your body further to make sure the attention stayed on you.

The words hung in the air for a brief moment, and Loki’s sharp green eyes flicked toward you, a flicker of realization crossing his face. His smirk faltered, just for a split second, before returning with an edge of something darker. "Oh," he uttered, his voice low, "you’ve got a good memory, don’t you?"

You knew exactly what you were doing. And you loved every second of it.

Natasha shot you a look, her eyes glinting with amusement, a sly smirk tugging at her lips as she caught the subtext of your words and movements. "You’re having a little too much fun with this," she called you out. Clearly, she was enjoying the bubbling disarray you were effortlessly stirring up.

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to appear unaffected by the stir you were causing. "Hey," you countered, your tone playful, "if they’re going to stand around and gawk, I might as well entertain them." Your eyes flickered briefly to the dark prince, where his subtle shift in focus didn’t escape your notice as you turned back to the red-headed assassin.

Sam, always ready to poke fun, leaned forward, his elbows digging into his knees as he flashed you an exaggerated grin. "You’re definitely keeping it interesting, that’s for sure," he quipped, clearly caught between amusement and an underlying curiosity.

With a light chuckle, you peered at him provocatively. "I’m just here to make sure everyone’s stretched in the right way," you quipped back, a hint of challenge in your voice as you met his eyes.

Steve, sensing the playful banter was starting to spin out of control, clapped his hands together, his presence bringing a subtle shift in the room. The tension that had been hanging in the air from the teasing remained, but now it was time to bring things back to business. “Alright, fellas,” he said, his voice cutting through the chaos, authoritative and sharp as always. “Back to the weights. Time to get serious.”

The guys groaned in unison, a collective reluctance that seemed to ripple through the group, but despite the grumbling, they picked up their dumbbells and returned to their stations. The sounds of weights clinking and the low murmurs of the guys refocusing filled the room, but one person remained distinctly out of sync with the rest.

From his spot by the bench, Loki’s composure was slipping more visibly with each passing second. His long fingers tightened and relaxed around the barbell, his muscles flexing involuntarily as if trying to regain control of his body. But his gaze kept flickering back to where you and the other women had gathered, setting up for the next set of stretches. He tried his best to feign indifference—leaning casually against the bench, appearing utterly unbothered—but it was clear to anyone paying attention that it was a losing battle.

When you bent forward into a slow, deliberate stretch, sliding effortlessly into a forward fold, Loki's breath hitched almost imperceptibly. The graceful curve of your back, the way your body seemed to flow with ease into the pose, was almost hypnotic. He could feel his pulse quicken, and despite his best efforts to maintain poise, his mind spiraled into dangerous thoughts. 

He imagined his hands trailing down your spine, the heat of your skin under his fingertips, the way you'd arch into his touch. He’d trace the elegant curve of your spine downwards, his hand dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts to explore the supple globes of your ass, gripping and kneading the firm flesh. He would hook his fingers in the waistband and slowly tug them and your underwear down, revealing your most intimate places to his hungry gaze, inch by tortuous inch. 

Then, he’d slip his hand inside your soaking panties, and groan at the slick evidence of your arousal coating his fingers. Notch two fingers at your entrance, pumping them in a shallow thrust, crooking them to find that special spot inside, and piston it repeatedly simply to watch as you lose your mind and your whole body quivers again and again. 

The sheer audacity of the images playing out in his head made his jaw tighten, a flush creeping up his neck as his fortitude continued to unravel. 

He tried to drag his gaze away, his grip tightening on the barbell as though the weight could somehow ground him in reality. But even as he focused on the solid steel in his hands, it felt almost insubstantial compared to the magnetic pull of your presence. He swallowed thickly, a futile attempt to regain control, but it didn’t work.

When his gaze flicked back—just for a split second, just to check on your progress—you were transitioning into a lunge, every line of your body accentuated by the stretch. The faint sheen of sweat caught the light, making your skin glow as though you were carved from something impossibly radiant. It wasn’t just the stretch that rendered him mad; it was you. You knew exactly how to push his buttons, how to pull him into your orbit without a single word, like some irresistible gravitational force he had no hope of escaping.

When had it escalated to this? What was supposed to be a simple, harmless game of one-upmanship—his initial goal to snatch that little fame of yours around the gym, to make you scowl, cower, and surrender—had somehow veered wildly off course. Now, instead of basking in smug satisfaction at seeing you flustered, he found himself consumed by something far more primal, far more dangerous. He no longer simply wanted to knock you off your pedestal; he wanted to know everything about you. The sharpness of your mind, the quick wit that matched his quip for quip, the fire in your gaze that never backed down. He lusted after you, mind and body, with a hunger that rattled him to his core.

The predator had become the prey in a sense, tangled in a chase he’d started but could no longer direct. And judging by the way your smile curved just a little more, you knew it too.

A low growl rumbled deep in Loki’s chest, barely audible over the clanging weights and murmured conversations. He gripped the barbell tighter, the metal biting into his palms, but it wasn’t enough to stem the tide of thoughts flooding his mind. His imagination ran wild—thoughts of you pressed against him, your flexibility taking on a much more intimate meaning, your laughter ringing in his ear as you teased him mercilessly. It was awash in a flood of filthy fantasies, with you pressed against him and those long legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him deeper. The heat of you, the slickness, your breathy pleas, taunting him to take you harder, faster. 

He gripped the barbell so hard the metal cut into his palms, desperately trying to ground himself and regain his rapidly eroding self-control. But it was no use, he was too lost in the haze of lust. He wanted to map every inch of your body with his hands and mouth, mark you as his, and let everyone here know you belonged to him. He wanted to bend you over the nearest surface and take you until you were a mewling, quivering wreck. He desperately fought the urge to storm over there and throw you down at his mercy, consequences be damned. It took every ounce of his willpower to simply turn away, adjusting himself discreetly as he tried to will his throbbing erection away. His composure was disintegrating, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he shifted uncomfortably on the bench, trying to regain his focus. 

If he wasn’t careful enough, you were going to be the death of him.

Across the room, you, Natasha, and Wanda exchanged a series of knowing glances, clearly reveling in the chaos you had orchestrated. Loki’s predicament wasn’t subtle, and it was hard to miss the way his sharp eyes darted toward you whenever he thought no one was watching.

"You think he’s going to be able to concentrate now?" you murmured to them, raising your arms in an effortless stretch that made your shirt ride up just enough to catch Loki’s attention once again. Your tone was low, almost conspiratorial, but you knew he could hear if he tried hard enough.

Natasha rolled her shoulders, dropping into a plank with casual ease. “Not a chance. He’s too proud to admit it, but I’d bet good money he’s losing his mind over there.”

Wanda, sitting cross-legged on the mat, tilted her head, her insidious grin widening. "Look at him. He’s not even pretending anymore. Poor guy’s completely spiraling. But honestly, can you blame him? You’re practically putting on a show."

You shrugged nonchalantly, your face the picture of innocence, though the playful gleam in your eyes betrayed your enjoyment of the situation. “Hey, it’s not my fault if he gets distracted. I’m just minding my own business.”

The black widow snorted, shaking her head as she transitioned into another move. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you admitted with a grin, fully aware of the effect you were having on Loki. “After that little stunt he pulled last week? He deserves this.”

On the far side of the gym, said god’s serenity was unraveling with every passing second. His grip on the barbell had tightened to the point where his knuckles had turned bone-white, the strain of his internal battle evident in the shallow, uneven breaths escaping him. The telltale tremor in his hands betrayed how close he was to losing his carefully maintained facade of indifference. When the weight slipped slightly, the metallic clang that followed shattered the gym’s ambient noise, drawing the attention of everyone present. The room seemed to pause, a dozen sets of eyes turning toward the god of mischief.

Thor, stationed just a few paces away, leaned lazily against the wall, his massive frame radiating ease and confidence. His arms crossed over his broad chest, and a knowing grin tugged at his lips, threatening to break into outright laughter. The scene before him was, in his eyes, nothing short of perfection. Loki—his ever-composed, perpetually aloof brother—was undone, and Thor was reveling in it. 

The god of thunder had been fully on board with your plan when you’d approached him earlier, offering the chance to "tease Loki into humility." With a booming laugh, he’d agreed without hesitation, ready to knock his prideful brother down a peg. After all, he had earned it with his antics the week prior.

As the barbell clattered to the floor, his grin widened, the gleam in his blue eyes betraying just how much he was enjoying the spectacle. He caught your eye from across the room, his expression practically shouting, "This is even better than I imagined." The sharp clang of the weight hitting the floor had drawn murmurs and stifled chuckles, and Thor, always the instigator, seized the moment.

“Loki,” Thor called, his voice a booming mix of authority and mirth that cut clean through the chatter. “What’s this? Barely lifting a thing, are we? Losing your strength—or are you too busy... gawking?”

Loki’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing as his scowl deepened. “I am not gawking,” he hissed, his tone venomous and defensive. But his flushed cheeks and the way his eyes flashed guiltily toward you told a very different story.

Thor let out a hearty chuckle, unfolding his arms to gesture toward you and the others stretching nearby. “Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re far more interested in their yoga session than the weights in front of you.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the room, Bucky and Sam exchanging grins before jumping in to add to Loki’s torment. Sam, ever the opportunist, leaned back on his bench with a wide grin. “Man, it’s fine. Yoga’s... distracting. No shame in it.”

“Yeah,” Bucky added, his tone dripping with mock seriousness as he set his dumbbells down, “but maybe at least pretend you’re working out. The weights won’t lift themselves, Loki.”

The teasing drew another chorus of chuckles from the room, but Loki was far from amused. His jaw tightened, and a faint, dangerous green glow began to flicker at his fingertips, signaling the return of his seiðr. He fixed Thor with a glare so sharp it could have sliced through steel. “You,” Loki growled, his voice low and menacing, “should start praying. You’ll need the gods’ mercy if you even dream of reaching Valhalla once I’m thorough with you.”

Thor only laughed louder, his broad shoulders shaking with amusement. “Oh, come now, brother. You’re just proving you’re as mortal as the rest of us. But next time, maybe focus on lifting the weights instead of letting your eyes wander.”

Loki’s searing gaze flickered toward you once more, but this time, it lingered longer than he intended. You had slid effortlessly into another pose, a deep stretch that accentuated every elegant line of your body. A knowing smirk played on your lips as your eyes met his, an unspoken provocation communicated through your behavior. It was maddening, and Loki knew you were doing it on purpose.

The sharp sting of Thor’s taunts, paired with your relentless teasing, finally pushed him over the edge. He stood abruptly, the barbell crashing to the floor with a deafening clang. Muttering something dark under his breath, he turned away, his steps brisk and his posture tense. Yet, despite his best efforts to leave the scene with whatever dignity he had left, his gaze betrayed him once again. He glanced over his shoulder, unable to resist one final look at the source of his torment—you, his greatest distraction.

The crackling energy in the room was practically tangible, and Natasha was at the center of it, her sharp eyes sparkling with unspoken delight as she shifted effortlessly into another stretch. Her movements were carefully concocted, the embodiment of feline grace as she dropped into a side plank, the smirk on her lips a clear indication that she was thoroughly enjoying the unraveling chaos on the other side of the gym.

Wanda, seated lazily with her weight balanced on her palms, seemed to radiate amusement, her wide grin lighting up her face as she flicked her gaze toward the god of mischief. His composure—or lack thereof—was the primary source of her entertainment, and she did not attempt to hide it. Loki looked as if the tension building inside him was about to boil over, his jaw tight and his emerald eyes practically glowing with restrained power. 

She stifled a laugh, her chest trembling with suppressed mirth. “Careful,” she murmured, tilting her chin in his direction. “I think he’s about to snap.”

The corners of your mouth curled into a sly grin as you caught her meaning, a spark of playful defiance glimmering in your eyes. If Loki was close to breaking, you weren’t about to let up. Sliding fluidly into a forward fold, you allowed your movements to slow, savoring the stretch as your hands grazed the mat. Your voice, carrying just enough volume to taunt him, was laced with a playful edge. “Do you think he’s ready to admit defeat yet?” you asked, your tone light but tinged with recognizable deviousness.

Natasha puffed softly, her voice dripping with amusement as she adjusted into a flawless plank. “Oh, he’s definitely rethinking a few life choices right now.”

Still, you didn’t falter. You shifted deeper into the stretch, your body moving with a controlled elegance that only added fuel to the fire. The sway of your hips was deliberate, lingering just long enough to ensure that if Loki wasn’t paying attention before, he certainly was now. “What?” you feigned mock innocence that didn’t fool anyone, your grin growing wider. “I’m just stretching. Nothing wrong with being flexible, is there?”

You didn’t miss the glances being exchanged between your companions, nor the faint glimmer of alert flashing brightly as she added, “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. He looks like he’s plotting something.”

You snickered softly, your fingers grazing the mat before you shifted into a slightly more provocative stretch. “Poor thing,” you mused, your voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Must be exhausting, trying to pretend he’s unbothered when he’s that obsessed.”

Wanda giggled at the remark, her laughter bubbling up as she adjusted into a side plank. “Obsessed doesn’t even cover it. He’s one step away from declaring war.”

You hummed thoughtfully, casting a look over your shoulder toward Loki, whose sharp gaze hadn’t left you for a second. His jaw was tight, the tension radiating off him palpable, and the corner of your mouth tugged upward into a sly grin. “It’s not my fault if he can’t handle a little competition.”

“Competition?” Natasha echoed, her tone incredulous as she shot you a look. “Babe, I don’t think that’s the word for what you’re doing.”

Wanda nodded in agreement, a hint of warning in her expression. “Yeah, it’s more like... poking the bear.”

You shrugged as you transitioned into a Downward Dog position, your movements slow and deliberate. “Poking the bear? Please. He’s more of a spoiled housecat than a bear.” Your grin turned downright wicked. “Adorable when he’s angry, though.”

Wanda bit down on her lip, her laughter barely contained. Natasha, however, froze mid-motion, her playful demeanor replaced with something far more serious. Her gaze flicked past you, her lips silently forming a word you couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, the urgency in her expression sent a shiver of apprehension through you.

Before you could turn to see what had caught her attention, you felt it—an almost tangible shift in the air behind you. Heavy, electric, and laced with an unmistakably familiar feeling that never failed to prickle along your spine. Your nails slightly sank in the mat, bracing yourself as the atmosphere thickened. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was; the weight of his presence was undeniable, his scrutiny burning into your back with such intensity it made your skin flush.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the task in front of you, though the attempt at nonchalance was futile. The sound of his voice cut through your resolve like a blade through silk.

“Darling.”

The single word was low and deliberate, laced with authority and intent. It wasn’t a greeting; it was a summon—a reminder of who held the upper hand. The rich timbre of his voice sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, and before you could fully process it, he was closer. The warmth of his body lightly pressed against your back, his presence suffocating yet intoxicating.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat before you finally managed, “What’s the matter, Trickster?” You kept your voice steady, though the hitch in your breath betrayed you as you let your lips curl into a teasing smirk. “Feeling tense? Maybe you should... stretch it out.”

The silence that followed was thick, the kind that demanded submission. Then, without warning, his hands settled on your hips, and in a firm and unyielding force, brought you back up from your lowered position. The gasp that escaped you was involuntary and sharp, and his low, rumbling chuckle made your stomach twist in a confusing mix of defiance and desire.

“Stretch?” His voice was a breath against your ear, smooth and wicked. “Oh, pet, I don’t think you’re in any position to give advice.”

His grip tightened as he pulled you back, flush against him. The unmistakable hardness pressing into you sent a wave of heat crashing through your body, your teasing confidence unraveling in an instant. Loki leaned in, his chest brushing against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear with maddening precision.

“You’ve been playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a sinful rasp. “Bending over so sweetly, flaunting yourself like that. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Notice what?” you countered, the breathiness in your voice betraying your feigned indifference. You shifted slightly, trying to create space, but the movement only served to press you closer to him. His hands tightened, holding you firmly in place.

“Don’t play coy,” he warned, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin just below your ear. The warmth of his breath sent shivers racing down your spine. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Teasing me. Provoking me. But tell me, darling…” His fingers trailed slowly up your sides, his touch light but deliberate, leaving a burning trail in its wake. “Is this what you wanted?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as his hands slid higher, one resting at your waist while the other teased the bare skin just beneath your shirt. His fingers danced with an infuriating gentleness, and your knees threatened to buckle.

“Well?” he pressed, his voice soft yet commanding, a dark promise woven into every syllable. His teeth grazed the jointure between your ears and your neck, and you couldn’t stop the sharp inhale that escaped you. Loki chuckled, the melodious directly reaching your eardrums. “Answer me. Is this what you wanted?”

“Uh-uh,” you breathed out, the words barely escaping your parted lips, as if you were caught in a hypnotic daze.

Loki’s voice dropped an octave, more insistent now. “Words, darling.”

“Yes,” you finally admitted, the word escaping in a whisper. Your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch as a smug smile curved his lips against your skin.

“Good girl,” he purred, his voice molten as his hands slid lower. One dipped beneath the contoured waistband of your shorts, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin there, and your breath faltered. He laughed, the sound dark and indulgent. “You’ve made a grave mistake.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else. Wanda’s muffled giggles barely registered as Loki leaned closer, his lips brushing the curve of your ear.

“Because now,” he continued, his voice a sinful rasp, “you’ve made it my turn.”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze over your shoulder, your smirk trembling at the edges. “Oh? Should I be scared?”

Loki’s answering smile was sharp, predatory. His hand slid back to your hip, his grip firm and possessive. “Terrified,” he hummed, his voice as smooth as it was dangerous. “But I suspect you enjoy provoking me too much to care.”

“Maybe I do,” you shot back, your voice wavering just enough to reveal your nerves. “Or maybe you’re just easy to rile up.”

His laughter was low and mocking, the sound vibrating against you. “Easy?” he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. “You think resisting the urge to put you in your place is easy for me?” His fingers ghosted along your side, their proximity sending heat pooling deep within you. “Do you know what I’ve been imagining, darling?”

Your breath hitched audibly as he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear once more. “How delectable you’d look bent over for an entirely different reason,” he murmured, his voice dark and heavy with intent. “How sweet you’d sound begging me to stop teasing and give you exactly what you need.”

The vivid imagery his words conjured made your knees wobble as much as it made your cunt clench down, and Loki’s knowing smirk deepened as he noticed. It was the firm grip of his hand on your jaw that truly held you in place, forcing your gaze to meet his. The pressure of his fingers was gentle yet commanding, keeping you exactly where he wanted—right in his control, unable to look away.

“Keep this up,” he growled, his tone a low, velvety threat, “and I’ll ruin you right here, where everyone can see.”

Your breath hitched again, your pulse racing as his fingers pressed firmly against your hip, their touch a silent warning. “You wouldn’t dare,” you challenged, though your voice betrayed just how uncertain you were.

Loki’s dark chuckle sent shivers through you, and he leaned in until his lips were nearly brushing yours. “Wouldn’t I?”

And just like that, he pulled away, leaving you trembling and breathless. You turned instinctively, your wide eyes following him as he sauntered back to the bench with a self-satisfied smirk. He didn’t look back, but the deliberate sway in his step said everything: he’d won—and he knew it.

Before you could fully recover, Steve's voice rang out from across the gym, stern and authoritative. "Loki!" he called sharply, cutting through the tension in the room like a blade. "Stop slacking and get back to work! And leave the girls alone while you're at it."

Loki paused mid-stride, his smirk widening as he turned his head slightly, just enough for you to catch the glint of mischief in his eyes. With an exaggerated sigh, he straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders as though Steve's reprimand was an inconvenience he barely tolerated.

"Of course, Captain," Loki drawled, his tone dripping with mock obedience. "Far be it from me to dare disturb anyone."

He threw you one last lingering glance, his emerald eyes gleaming with unspoken promises, before striding toward the bench with a grace that made it impossible not to watch. He casually picked up a barbell and restarted his reps, the smug curve of his lips never quite fading. The deliberate slowness of his movements and the occasional glance in your direction made it clear: while he might have been called back to order, in his mind, the game was far from over.

Natasha and Wanda didn’t even bother hiding their laughter. Natasha let out a low blow, mouthing a silent “Oh my god” while Wanda, ever the dramatist, fanned herself as if she’d just witnessed a scandal too hot to handle. Their shared amusement was palpable, bubbling over in giggles that only served to deepen the heat already pooling in your cheeks.

Meanwhile, you were left rooted to the spot, your breath uneven, as your mind stubbornly replayed his words on an endless, maddening loop. Every rasp of his voice, every deliberate touch, every wicked glint in his eyes seemed etched into your memory, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake it.

The two women exchanged knowing glances, their expressions practically screaming victory on Loki’s behalf. Natasha arched a perfectly shaped brow, her smirk twisting into something teasing yet smug. “Well,” she drawled with mirth in her voice, “that escalated quickly.”

Wanda, ever one to pile on, folded her arms and tilted her head, her grin impossibly wide. “I think we just witnessed the undisputed champion of this little game of yours.” Her voice was light, but her tone carried that infuriating edge of truth, a verdict impossible to deny.

You groaned, pressing a hand to your flaming face in an attempt to block out their reactions. “Don’t,” you muttered, your voice muffled behind your fingers. But it was no use; their laughter was too infectious, bubbling up in waves that only made your embarrassment worse.

What worsened your condition was the fact that Loki didn’t spare a single glance in your direction since your little altercation, but his presence remained large and looming, as though he’d marked the room with his triumph. The discreet tilt of his head, the faintest upward curve of his lips, said everything—he knew exactly that he’d caught your full attention, and he was basking in it like a cat stretching in a patch of sunlight.

You bit down on your lip, torn between indignation and something far more dangerous—desire. He’d turned the tables with disarming ease, leaving you caught in a web of delicious uncertainty. Should you feel frustration at being outmaneuvered so effortlessly? Or should you savor the intoxicating tension he’d created, the way every nerve in your body seemed to buzz with anticipation?

Natasha nudged you with her elbow, her smirk softening into something more playful. “Careful, you might be burning up,” she teased.

Wanda giggled, leaning closer with an exaggerated whisper. “Or maybe it’s just the heat radiating off you from whatever that was.”

You swatted at them half-heartedly, but the truth was, you weren’t entirely sure if their teasing was wrong. Because even as their laughter echoed around you, your thoughts were still wholly consumed by him. Loki had won this round, and judging by the way your pulse refused to settle, you weren’t entirely sure you minded.

⠀

⠀

The events that had transpired in the last session had left a deeper mark on you than you'd ever imagined. Every night since, it felt like you couldn’t escape the relentless replay of it all—his touch, the tension, the heat between you two. It was etched so deeply into your memory that it was impossible to shake, each passing moment branded into your mind with an intensity that nothing could dull. No matter how many distractions you tried, how many of your usual tricks you employed to quiet the gnawing ache, nothing seemed to work. The itch lingered, a constant reminder of everything that had transpired, and you couldn’t seem to focus on anything else. The thrill and fear, both intertwined, kept you buzzing, feeding into the need that had taken root in your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Ironically enough, today was Friday the 13th, and it felt almost fitting. A date known for either being your lucky day or your worst nightmare. And it seemed you were, without a doubt, leaning toward the latter. Every second felt like a cruel reminder that you were spiraling, unable to shake the intensity of the encounter in the gym. The pressure was building, and it felt like the world was closing in on you. Part of you was afraid of what would happen next, but another part of you… part of you couldn’t wait to find out. You were on the edge, dangerously close to breaking, and it made you feel as if you were dancing on the razor-thin line between desire and desperation.

Despite your mind screaming at you to stay away, there was this undeniable force that kept you gravitating back toward him. Every part of you told you to leave it alone, but the rest of you was already ensnared, tangled in his web of toying, unsure of where the line between torment and pleasure even lay anymore. You’d tried to hold yourself back, to distance yourself, but the urge to confront him, to give in completely, was getting stronger every day. It was frustrating, exhilarating, terrifying.

But you’d had enough. You were done pretending, done playing by rules you didn’t even understand. If Loki wanted to play games, then you’d meet him on the battlefield. You were betting everything on this session—you’d either go big, or go home. You would do everything to win this round, and if this didn’t play out in your favor, then you’d end it once and for all.

You rummaged through your wardrobe, searching for something that screamed confidence, something that would tilt the scales in your favor. And then you found it. The shortest pair of cotton gym shorts you owned, along with the tightest gym bra in your collection. To top it off, you pulled on high socks that accentuated the length of your legs. For dignity purposes—or so you told yourself—you zipped up a fitted jacket over everything. You decided that the jacket was just for show. You’d wait for the right moment to make your move.

As you made your way to the gym bar, trying to shake the heated flush creeping up your neck and across your cheeks, the memory of what had happened—Loki’s touch, the sting of his voice, and the wild potency of that encounter—was still alive on your skin. You couldn’t soothe the heat, no matter how hard you tried. You settled on a barstool dragging a hand through your hair and stared down at your newly made protein drink, swirling the liquid absently like you were trying to quell the disorder in your mind.

"I can't take it anymore," you grunted in exasperation. The words felt like they had been lodged in your throat for too long, finally spilling out in a rushed confession. "Seriously. I’m so fucking over him I could scream." You took a long, deep gulp from your drink, the coldness of the shake hitting your throat, but it didn’t settle the fire inside you. Nothing seemed to help.

You let out a sharp breath, exhaling as if releasing some of the tension that had coiled itself so tightly inside you. "I should’ve known better. This is humiliating. I can’t stop thinking about what happened, and I can’t focus on anything else. He’s in my head, and I don’t even know if I want him out." The words felt like they were spilling out uncontrollably, as if the dam had broken and now there was no turning back.

Wanda, ever the observer and perpetually ready to tease, raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful grin. She leaned closer, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "You’ve been at this for days now," she noted, her voice dripping with amusement. "What exactly is it that you can’t take? His attitude? The flirting? Or... something else?"

You groaned, the frustration bubbling up inside you. You leaned forward, pressing your palms against the cold surface of the bar, your posture slumped as you let out a long exhale. "Everything, Wanda! Everything about him is like this damn temptation that keeps haunting me. And don’t even get me started on the gym. That moment keeps replaying in my head over and over again." 

You took another sip, but it did nothing to quell the growing ache. "I can't even sleep without thinking about it!" You slumped further, the disbelief creeping into your voice, the realization of how completely out of control you were making its way through you. "I swear, he’s driving me insane." The weight of your confession hung in the air as you let your head fall into your hands for a moment, your fingers pressed against your temples. It was all too much.

Natasha’s gaze shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she saw right through you, reading you like an open book. There was no escaping her sharp perception. "And yet, here you are, complaining instead of doing something about it," she said, her voice laced with a teasing bite. "Maybe you’re a masochist in disguise and like the torture."

The sting of her words hit a little too close to home. You shot her a glare, though you couldn’t quite muster the energy to truly protest. Natasha was always quick to find the underlying truth of a situation, and as much as you hated to admit it, she had a point. You were still here, still willingly participating in the mind games Loki had been playing with you, even knowing what it might cost you in the end. 

The irony of it wasn’t lost on you. Every time you promised yourself you would pull away, the next moment would pull you back in. His voice, his touch, his presence—it was all too much. And the worst bit was, there was a part of you that craved it. 

"Shut up," you muttered, trying to push away the feeling of being so exposed, even though you knew Natasha was right. "It’s not like that." But even as the words left your mouth, you knew they were a lie. You were lying to her, but most importantly to yourself, and you hated it.

Clint and Bruce had returned from their mission, and the moment they walked in, they could tell something was off. They didn’t need to ask—they could see it in your face. 

"So, what’s this I hear?" he asked, leaning casually against the bar with a half-raised eyebrow. "You’ve got a thing for the god of mischief?" His smirk widened, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. "I’ve got to say, you’re not the only one who’s had a run-in with Loki. But something tells me yours is... a little more intense."

Bruce rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t suppress the small, amused twitch at the corner of his mouth. His voice was laced with that familiar, fatherly concern as he leaned in, his tone carrying that blend of criticism and curiosity. "You’re digging yourself into a hole," he shook his head in disapproval. "I can't believe you’re letting him get under your skin like this."

You buried your face in your hands in frustration, your head pounding as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. "You guys don’t get it!" you groaned, lifting your head to meet their eyes. The frustration and helplessness were clear in your gaze. "It’s not like that. It’s... it’s like he’s playing some game, and I don’t even know the rules." 

You sighed, your voice faltering slightly as you tried to express the mess in your head. "I’m so close to just breaking and telling him I can’t handle it anymore, but he makes me—" You paused, the words catching in your throat as you tried to articulate the emotions that were swirling inside you. "He makes me feel things I can’t even explain."

Clint leaned in closer, his grin widening as if he was thoroughly enjoying your discomfort. "Sounds like someone’s having a little too much fun with this," he voiced in dripping sarcasm. "You’re just afraid of what happens next. Don’t worry, we’ve all been there."

"You think it’s fun?" You snapped, your voice sharp as you narrowed your eyes at him. "You try being in my shoes. Or better yet, try being in his presence when he talks in that damn tone and looks at you like he’s going to devour you." The thought of it made your heart race, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck as the memory of his eyes on you, intense and predatory, surged back into your mind. "I don’t think I can even look at him without feeling like I’m going to combust."

Wanda, the ever-present instigator, smirked and took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink. She watched you with a knowing look in her eyes, as though she could see right through all your defenses. "You might be in trouble," she told you, "but part of you likes it. I can see it in your eyes."

You glared at her, but the look she gave you—the look that could see right through your attempts at deflection—made you feel like you were standing naked in front of them, exposed in a way you weren’t ready for. You didn’t have to say it out loud; she could see the truth in your eyes. "Maybe I do," you muttered under your breath, swirling the drink in your hand as if it could somehow distract you from the truth. "But that doesn’t make it any less torturous."

Clint raised his glass in a mock celebration, being far too pleased for your liking. "To the madman deity and the woman who’s too stubborn for her own good. May the shenanigans never stop."

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but let out a small, reluctant laugh. You didn’t want to admit it, not out loud at least, but maybe there was a part of you that was too intrigued, too drawn into Loki’s chaotic energy to resist it.

The hum of camaraderie filled the space as the Avengers trickled in one by one, each voice weaving into the fabric of the team’s unique dynamic. The smell of sweat and faintly lingering disinfectant clung to the air, a backdrop to the rhythmic sound of weights clanging and treadmills whirring faintly in the distance. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the polished floor, giving the room an almost warm glow despite the tension simmering just beneath the surface.

Tony was, unsurprisingly, the loudest, his voice carrying effortlessly above the din. "Come on, Solid Snake, lighten up! You can’t be a broody old man all the time," he teased, leaning lazily against a bench press machine. His smirk was as sharp as ever, and his target—a decidedly unamused Bucky—rolled his eyes in exaggerated exasperation.

"If you’d shut up for five minutes, Stark, maybe I could," Bucky shot back, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if fighting a smirk.

Steve, ever the reluctant peacekeeper, sighed as he adjusted his sweatshirt, clearly already over the banter. "Let’s just get through this without any more distractions, alright?" he muttered, his tone bordering on fatherly but tinged with resignation.

Sam, however, wasn’t about to let the moment pass. "Steve, you’re one to talk," he quipped, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the bar counter next to Clint. "Don’t think we didn’t see you googling ‘Gen Z slang’ last night."

Steve groaned, his cheeks flushing a faint pink, while the others erupted into laughter. Even Bruce chuckled softly from his corner, shaking his head in amusement. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to sink into the lighthearted chaos, letting their teasing and jokes wash over you like a comforting balm. But no matter how hard you tried to blend into the easy rhythm of the group, the weight in your chest refused to lift.

It was painfully obvious that everyone was in unusually high spirits, and you weren’t naive enough to think it was just post-mission relief. The knowing glances, the smirks passed between them, and the barely-contained chuckles—everything pointed to one thing. They were waiting. Watching. Eager to see how the latest chapter in your ongoing rivalry with Loki would unfold. The anticipation in the room was almost tangible, a crackling undercurrent beneath the surface of their cheerful chatter.

And the fateful moment finally arrived.

The double doors swung open with a dramatic flourish, the sound reverberating across the gym like a herald of chaos. Thor entered first, his stride impossibly cheerful, his booming laugh filling every corner of the room. "Friends! What a glorious day it is to bask in the company of heroes!" he declared, his golden hair practically glowing in the sunlight as he beamed at everyone around him. He clapped Clint on the back with enough force to make him stumble, earning a playful glare in return. Thor’s enthusiasm was suspicious, his overly bright grin and exuberance almost too pointed, as if he knew something no one else did—or rather, as if he was trying far too hard not to let it slip.

Almost as if to build suspense, the dark prince finally stepped forward, emerging from the corners of the entrance like a phantom materializing from the depths.

He didn’t stride so much as glide, his movements unnervingly smooth, like he was above the very act of walking itself—each step seemingly effortless, almost as if the ground beneath him didn’t quite deserve to bear his presence. There was something unsettling in the grace with which he moved, a quiet dominance in every motion. His form was poised, elegant in a way that seemed deliberate, controlled. His presence alone demanded attention, yet he didn’t exert any force to command it; it simply was.

The contrast between him and his brother was impossible to ignore. Where Thor radiated boisterous energy, a whirlwind of warmth and noise, Loki was the calm in the storm, his composure sharp, cool, and infinitely measured. While the thunder god’s exuberance filled the room with a palpable force, his stillness seemed to draw all the focus to him without uttering a word. It was a stark foil to his brother’s exuberance, and it only heightened the tension in the room.

His hands were clasped neatly behind his back, as though to further emphasize the careful restraint in his every movement. There was no rushed energy in him, no urgency—only the chilling poise of someone who knew the full weight of their presence. His emerald eyes swept across the room with a cold, calculating precision, like a predator carefully assessing its surroundings. 

Today, Loki was surprisingly dressed simply, yet nothing short of devastating. A fitted black long-sleeve shirt clung to his lean frame, the fabric so well-tailored that it seemed effortlessly perfect, while still accentuating every line of muscle beneath it. Black compression shorts revealed the chiseled definition of his legs, the ensemble completed by sleek athletic socks and understated sneakers that looked both functional and undeniably stylish. His dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, stray strands framing his face, giving him an air of ruggedness that was almost ethereal.

He looked unfairly good—like he’d walked straight out of a high-fashion magazine editorial, the kind dedicated to showcasing "dangerously attractive male specimens" in their most refined form. Every detail of his gym wear spoke of someone who had mastered the art of simplicity, yet exuded an undeniable, almost unattainable, charisma.

And just your luck, he’d somehow managed to nearly match your outfit.

A flicker of amusement danced in Loki’s emerald eyes, and his lips curled into a sly, knowing smirk as he began his slow, deliberate approach toward you. His movements were smooth, almost languid, as though each step was a calculated part of some grand performance. His gaze never once wavered from you, cutting through the room with an intensity that seemed to render everyone else irrelevant, invisible in his presence. The chatter of the room grew distant, muffled, as though someone had turned the volume down on reality itself.

He drew closer, his gaze locked onto yours with an almost predatory intensity, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Every fiber of your being seemed to react to him, pulling you into his orbit. There was no escaping the pull of Loki, and the world outside the bubble of his gaze became irrelevant.

"Darling," he greeted smoothly, the word rolling off his tongue with a velvety mockery, every syllable dripping with heat. His eyes swept over you with a quick, almost dismissive glance, taking in every detail of your outfit—the jacket, the high socks, the way your clothes hugged your form with a purpose. There was something in his look, something knowing, as if he understood exactly why you had chosen each piece, and the knowledge of that made his smirk deepen. He loved this game.

"Trickster," you replied, your voice cool and composed, but there was a sharpness beneath the surface, a challenge that he would undoubtedly recognize. You met his gaze head-on, your body subconsciously crossing your arms and legs as if to shield yourself from the heat of his stare. But even as you tried to put up a defense, it felt as though the world around you had narrowed down to just the two of you. The space between you crackled with energy, the tension palpable, leaving you breathless and aware of nothing except him.

The silence stretched, thick and taut, before Sam, ever the provocateur, leaned toward Clint with an exaggerated whisper, his voice loud enough for those around him to hear. "You could cut the tension with a knife. I’d sell tickets to this."

"Is is their foreplay or just regular banter?" The archerer quipped, his dry humor drawing a few stifled laughs from the others.

Thor, completely oblivious to the subtle dynamics of the situation, clapped his hands together with a booming laugh, his voice carrying through the room with his usual enthusiasm. "Ah, what an entertaining rivalry! If only you knew, my friends, how much—"

"Thor," Loki interrupted sharply, his voice low, carrying a dangerous edge that made everyone pause. His eyes narrowed in a way that promised retribution if his brother pushed any further. The god faltered, suddenly aware of the tension that had shifted the moment Loki’s voice had cut through the air, glancing between you and Loki with an almost childlike look of guilt.

"What? It’s nothing, brother," The blonde said quickly, his grin still wide, trying to cover up his mistake with a weak deflection. "I was merely going to say how much you—"

"Thor," He repeated, this time his voice sharper, more commanding, and his jaw visibly clenched. The room seemed to hold its collective breath, the atmosphere shifting from lighthearted to electric, as everyone waited for the next move.

You raised an eyebrow with a nonchalant air that betrayed your growing interest. "How much he what?" you asked, your tone pretending to be uninterested, but the rapid beat of your heart told a different story. You were more than ready to hear what he had almost spilled, if only to use it as a sword of Damocles.

Thor hesitated, caught in the web of his brother’s gaze. After a moment, Thor cleared his throat, trying to recover. "Ah, well," he stammered, his voice faltering. "How much Loki... enjoys these little exchanges, of course!"

The lie was smooth, but not quite convincing. The nervousness he showcased in the way he tried to avoid his brother’s burning stare betrayed the lack of truth in his words. You narrowed your eyes, glancing between them, but it was Loki’s carefully schooled expression that caught your attention. His face had transformed into one of cold indifference, but you could see the subtle twitch of his jaw and the faint pink tint creeping up the back of his neck.

The others exchanged amused looks, clearly enjoying the subtle spectacle unfolding before them. Natasha, ever the picture of composure, took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving the scene. “Well, this just got interesting,” she noted, her tone dripping with amusement and approval as she surveyed the building tension.

It was obvious now: whatever simmered between you two wasn’t about to end any time soon. It was a game, yes—but one far from finished. And for better or worse, everyone in the room was eager to see how it would unfold.

The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in focus—locked in this silent standoff. Every sound, every movement beyond the two of you felt distant, muted, as if the room had shrunk to nothing more than the space between you and Loki. The others, sensing the growing charge between you, watched with bated breath. This wasn’t just an ordinary exchange—it was something far more intense, something that announced the rivalry to be nearing the breaking point.

His presence loomed over you, suffocating in its intensity. His smirk never wavered, but his eyes seemed to penetrate yours with a force that made your pulse quicken. Neither of you was willing to back down; the silent battle of words and glances was a carefully orchestrated dance, each of you striving to hold the reigns.

Leaning against the bar, you let a teasing smirk curl at the corners of your lips as your gaze locked onto him. “Nice dramatic entrance,” you quipped, your tone light but cutting. “Almost makes me think you’re trying to overcompensate for something else.” Your eyes flicked over him with a deliberate, slow scan, letting the implication settle in the air between you.

Loki’s lips curved into a slow, deliberate smirk, his movements deliberate as he closed the gap between you. He was drawing you in, pulling you into his orbit with each calculated step. Before long, he was towering over you, his broad form casting a shadow over you.

“Such crude language you wield with that tongue of yours,” he tutted in a honeyed whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. His words slid from his lips with measured slowness, each one curling around you like silk, wrapping you tighter with every syllable. “I’d be more than happy to correct you… if you’d allow me.”

You stood straighter, your body thrumming from the weight of his words, refusing to let him dominate the exchange this time. You crossed your arms and met his gaze head-on. “You think you can correct me?” you shot back, your voice cool, but the challenge clear in your eyes. Leaning in slightly, you dared him. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Ah, but the art of manipulating words are such a delight,” Loki purred, his voice thick with velvet, drawing you in with every syllable. His gaze never wavered from yours. “And I’m particularly skilled with them.”

The world seemed to hush, the room quieting until the only thing you could hear was his voice, each word dripping with an intoxicating weight. The tension grew thicker, and he let the silence stretch between you, just long enough to make the air feel too heavy to breathe.

“I recall you had a first taste of it, last session,” he added, his words striking you like a spark, igniting memories of the last time his voice had tangled with yours in a way you hadn’t expected.

You swallowed the rush of heat that rose in your cheeks, forcing your gaze to remain steady. “Last session was nothing,” you sharply replied, narrowing your eyes as if to dare him to push further. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to get to me, Trickster.”

The others were practically buzzing with excitement, leaning in slightly as if they were watching a thrilling game unfold. Sam, always one to stir the pot, leaned toward Natasha with a smirk that could rival Loki’s. “I’ve witnessed some trash talk in my time,” he said, shaking his head with amusement, “but this? This is on another level.”

Clint, watching the exchange with a growing interest, chuckled and shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know whether to be impressed at the comebacks or horrified,” he remarked in disbelief. “It’s like they’re playing some weird, kinky version of fencing.”

Natasha leaned back, her wry smile never faltering, watching with approval. “This is getting good,” she muttered under her breath, her tone almost purring with amusement. She sipped her drink slowly, savoring the tension. “I’d pay to see where this goes.”

Sam shot Natasha a quick, conspiratorial glance before looking back at the two of you. “Hey, don’t get too comfortable,” he warned, his voice laced with mischief. “They’re about to start swinging—metaphorically speaking, of course.” He made a grand, exaggerated fencing motion with his hands, drawing chuckles from the group. “You know, like that,” he added with a grin. “Except this time, the moves are… let’s just say they’re a little more pointed.” His eyebrows wiggled suggestively, and even Bruce couldn’t contain a smile.

Tony, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned back against his stool, an amused smirk plastered across his face. He watched the tension between you and Loki with a gleeful satisfaction. “Think they’ll kiss and make up?” he asked with a low chuckle, loud enough for everyone to hear. He raised an eyebrow at Steve, whose silent observation had not gone unnoticed.

He cleared his throat, the sharp sound cutting through the growing murmur of the group. The room fell into a sudden, almost uncomfortable silence, as his voice commanded attention. “Alright, alright,” Steve said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. He clapped his hands once, the sharp sound cutting through the air. “We’re here to train, not watch a soap opera,” he added, his voice steady and no-nonsense.

His blue eyes scanned the room, locking on you and Loki for a moment, his gaze narrowing just slightly. It was a silent reminder that there were more pressing matters at hand than your verbal sparring. “So, let’s get focused,” he continued, his tone taking on a more commanding edge. “No more distractions, people.” 

A collective groan of both relief and disappointment spread through the group. The tension between you and Loki had finally been cut, but there was an undeniable sense of disappointment that the banter had been interrupted. The room shifted again, the playful mood dissipating into a more subdued, professional atmosphere. Though, the memory of what had just transpired would no doubt linger long after the session ended.

“Now, let’s move it,” Steve said, gesturing toward the training area with a firm nod. “You’ve all got work to do, and I expect everyone to keep it professional.” His eyes lingered on you and Loki for a moment, as if to remind you both that, despite what was simmering between you, the training was the priority now.

Loki's lips curved into a smile, one that was more like a prelude to something yet to come. His eyes glinted with smug satisfaction, as if he were already savoring the next move in whatever game he was playing. “Until next time, darling,” he saluted, his tone thick with the promise of nearing disaster.

You gave him a half-smile, one that in turned promised that the rivalry wasn’t over and turned to follow the rest of the group to the training area, already feeling the bubbling energy of the upcoming round.

⠀

⠀

The gym session began with an unexpected tranquility, an eerie contrast to the usual chaos of training it had recently taken shape. It was chest and back day, and each Avenger had settled into their familiar routines, the rhythm of their movements blending with the constant clinking of weights and soft murmurs of conversation. For once, everything felt almost ordinary—just another training day, rather than an intense workout of body and mind alike.

You were working alongside Wanda, offering her a bit of encouragement as she powered through her chest exercises. It was nice to have someone to talk to, a welcome distraction from the growing knots of nervousness tangling in your stomach. You both exchanged light banter, chatting about everything outside the gym, while you kept an eye on your own sets. But all the while, your thoughts kept returning to Loki. He was oddly quiet today, no mischievous glint in his eyes. You couldn't help but wonder if he, too, was waiting for the right moment to stir things up.

The session had already taken a lively turn with the Asgardian brothers, but things soon spiraled into a loud mess. As the competition between Thor and Loki grew fiercer, their playful jabs and escalating challenges only served to ramp up the tension in the room. Loki's gaze swept across the space until it finally landed on you. His smirk softened just slightly, replaced by an expression that felt more deliberate, almost as if he were daring you to witness the next act of his show.

Thor, not to be outdone, continued to push the limits. His booming voice filled the gym as he egged his brother on. "You think you’ve got the strength to match my strength? Let’s see if you can keep up with the god of thunder!"

Loki’s smirk was a clear challenge as he lifted the same weight Thor had almost just juggled with, effortlessly matching him. Each press was smooth and controlled, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by the way his back arched with each lift, muscles rippling in perfect harmony. It was a display of strength and grace, one that seemed almost too perfect to be real.

However, in their playful contest of wills, they had unknowingly started to draw attention. Bruce, who had been quietly focusing on his own workout in a far corner of the gym, was caught off guard by the sheer noise and energy the brothers were creating. The weights clanking, the competitive banter, and the occasional loud challenge from Thor began to disrupt Bruce’s routine. As much as he tried to focus on his sets, the vibrations of the room were enough to throw off his concentration.

At one point, their effortless lifts seemed to reverberate repeatedly through the gym, causing the ground beneath Bruce to tremble slightly. The sound of weights crashing back onto the rack sent a sharp jolt through the air, causing Bruce to flinch each time. He rubbed his temples in frustration, his irritation barely masked behind his calm exterior.

"Can you guys keep it down a bit?" Bruce muttered to himself, trying to block out the noise, but it was no use. The brothers' rivalry only grew louder, their playful insults and laughter ringing through the space like a storm cloud threatening to burst.

At the next brutal noise, the scientist had had enough. He grumbled under his breath, packing up his things. "I swear, those testosterone-filled aliens and their dick-measuring contests," he muttered, shooting a quick glance at the Asgardians, who were too caught up in their contest to notice.

Without a word, he retreated to the quieter back section of the gym, moving toward the machines where he could work in peace. The machines were further away from the weights area, but at least they offered some reprieve from the chaos. As he walked toward the back, his footsteps were steady but filled with a sense of relief. He could already feel his growing anxiety lifting as he left the noise behind.

Meanwhile, the brothers' competition raged on, with Thor’s grin widening as he added more weight and Loki effortlessly lifted the new load, his body gliding through the motions with ease. The display of absurd power continued, the brothers pushing each other to new heights, oblivious to the disruption they were causing.

Every movement Loki made, every lift of the weights, was a hypnotic display of strength. His back muscles rippled with precision, the tension in his frame apparent with every press, every stretch of his body. Each flex seemed almost choreographed, as if he was aware of the effect it had, and your eyes couldn’t look away. His body moved with fluidity, an effortless grace that made every lift seem almost effortless, but you knew better. It was controlled power, and the sheer magnetism of it made your heart race faster with each passing second.

No matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn't help but be drawn back to watching him. You could feel your pulse quickening, the attraction growing stronger with every passing moment. Your mind tried to resist, tried to focus elsewhere, but his form—his body, mostly—kept pulling you back. You shook your head, hoping to clear the fog clouding your thoughts, but it only lingered, his image burned into your retinas.

It was maddening—the pull to keep watching, to continue visually feasting on him as he pushed the weights higher, his muscles flexing and straining with each rep. But you knew you had to focus, force yourself back into your own workout. You took a deep breath, forcing your attention back to your set, trying to push the images of him out of your mind. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, every time Loki added more weight, every time his body moved with such effortlessness, your mind betrayed you. It was impossible not to be drawn back to him.

"Don’t get distracted," Wanda teased, her voice slicing through your turbulent thoughts with a playful yet knowing tone. She had caught the subtle shift in your gaze. "He’s lifting weights, not you in your head."

You chuckled nervously, warmth creeping up your neck as you struggled to mask the growing tension inside. "Can’t help it if he makes a spectacle out of it," you muttered, uncomfortable under Wanda’s sharp, knowing stare.

Her eyes flicked over to Loki, who was now adding more weight to the barbell with an almost casual precision. His movements were effortless, each shift in his posture drawing attention to the taut muscles of his back as he pushed the weight up. The strain in his arms only emphasized the strength beneath his skin, the tension in his frame stretching the muscles of his back, making them stand out in a tantalizing display of raw force. 

Wanda raised an eyebrow, a sly smile curling her lips as she took in the scene. "There’s a lot of tension between you two today," she observed lightly, though there was a subtle intrigue laced in her voice.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth flooding your face betrayed the truth. "It’s nothing. Just… your usual bantering."

Wanda’s smile only widened, her voice dropping to a hushed, conspiratorial whisper as she leaned closer. "‘Usual bantering,’ huh? If it’s nothing like you say it is, then why do I feel the electricity between you two from across the room?"

Before you could even formulate a response, Loki did something you should’ve anticipated but somehow hadn’t—after all, he always had a knack for surprising you. 

With a smooth flick of his wrist, he got rid of his shirt, revealing his sculpted back in all its glory. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though each stretch was calculated to highlight the fluid grace of his body, ensuring that every muscle was on display. He wasn’t simply lifting weights; he was performing, putting on a show, a carefully crafted performance meant to captivate and tease. The muscles in his back rippled as he shifted, tightening with every adjustment.

You bit your lip, hard, forcing yourself to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape at the sinful image in your mind. What is wrong with you? Your rival, your competition wasn't someone you should be thinking of in that way. And yet, watching him lift, so confident, so composed, made everything else fade away and your mind turn to mush. All rational thoughts were overwhelmed by the flood of desire, the need that burned like a fire within you, fierce and untamed. 

A wild thought flickered through your mind, one you couldn’t quite push away: the idea of running your fingers along the ridges of his spine, feeling each muscle shift and contract beneath his skin, the subtle texture of his back smooth yet firm under your touch. The thought of raking your nails down his back due to being lost in the thralls of pleasure, feeling him tense and arch under your touch, was a dangerous temptation that you could hardly control.

You wished, in vain, that you could just reach out and trace the ridges of his back, feel the rippling muscles shift and contract beneath your fingers, but you had to stop yourself. You couldn’t let him win this round—not like this.

Thor, who had been lifting beside him, wasn’t even trying to hide the smug grin that spread across his face. He shot a quick glance in your direction then proceeded to turn to him and spoke in hushed tones, and it was then that the realization hit you: this little game between you and Loki had morphed into a twisted battle of alliances. Thor had just completely betrayed you on behalf of his brother. That bitch.

Loki’s smirk deepened as he caught your lingering gaze. He didn’t say a word, but the playful challenge in the air was undeniable. You could feel the weight of it pressing on you, the urge to stay focused slipping away. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was baiting you—and it was working.

Wanda, ever perceptive, noticed the change in your expression instantly. Her lips curled into a sly smile, her voice dropping lower, thick with amusement. "Oh, this is going to be good," she whispered, clearly enjoying every second of the tension building between you two.

You shot her a look, your face a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "This isn’t fair," you muttered, your gaze still fixed on the god, who continued to lift the weights with effortless precision, the muscles of his back shifting smoothly with each movement. "How am I supposed to focus when he looks like a damn sculpture?"

You sighed, trying to rein in your runaway thoughts, but the fantasies lingered, unwanted. "I’m going to jump him in the next ten seconds if he keeps this up," you continued, your voice thick with frustration. "And I don’t mean it in a ‘beat him down’ way… well, maybe I do, but only down there."

Wanda stifled a laugh and nudged you playfully, her tone still light, but now edged with a sense of seriousness. "You’ve got to hold it together," she teased. "You’re not falling for this, right? You’re stronger than that."

You looked at her, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips as you came to a bitter revelation. Loki was trying to get under your skin, and you couldn’t let him. "You’re right," you declared, rolling your eyes. "I can’t let him mess with me like this. He’s just baiting me, and I’m not gonna fall for it."

Wanda gave a satisfied nod, pleased with your change in attitude. "That’s the spirit. Don’t let him steal your focus. You’ve got this."

With newfound determination, you straightened your back. "Alright, enough of this," you muttered under your breath. "Let’s see how he handles a little competition."

Your eyes narrowed, chest tightening with resolve. The game was on, and this time, you weren’t going to let him have the upper hand.

You politely excused yourself from Wanda’s company and made your way toward the quieter back section of the gym. The hustle and bustle of the weight area faded behind you, the rhythmic clinking of metal and the low murmurs of conversation becoming a distant hum. You hoped the isolation would offer the clarity you were searching for—some peace to collect your thoughts.

In a secluded corner, you found Bruce, focused intently on a pull-up bar. His brow furrowed in concentration, but the strain was evident, his grip tight on the bar as he attempted yet again to pull himself up. His frustration was written clearly across his face, though he masked it with determined silence.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to interrupt his focused effort. But when you saw the way his muscles tensed in vain, unable to lift himself even a few inches, you couldn’t help but step in. “Need some help?” you asked softly, your voice calm, yet laced with curiosity.

He let out a deep sigh, a touch of frustration creeping into his words. “I’m trying the pull-up bar exercise,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “But I can’t seem to get up there.”

Tilting your head slightly, you studied his form for a moment, then took a step closer. “Show me,” you encouraged gently, offering a supportive tone.

Bruce gave a small, resigned nod before trying once more. With a quiet grunt, he pulled himself up again, but only for a brief second before his arms gave out, and he dropped back down, his exhale sharp and frustrated. “See?” he said, clearly disappointed. “I just can’t do it.”

You smiled reassuringly, your eyes warm with understanding. “Maybe start with something a bit different,” you suggested kindly. “Have you ever tried the ‘Dead Hang’ exercise?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your suggestion. “What’s that?”

Before you could explain, a loud clatter suddenly echoed through the gym—the unmistakable crash of a heavy weight hitting the floor. The sound reverberated across the room, and instinctively, your eyes shifted toward the source.

Nearby, a small crowd had gathered, applauding and praising Loki, who had just completed an impressive lift. “Nice job, Loki! Impressive as always!” one voice called out with admiration.

An impulsive thought flashed through your mind—daring, bold, something designed to enhance your stakes.

Turning back to Bruce, you flashed a sly grin, a hint of mischief curling at the corners of your lips. “I’ll show you,” you said, but your words carried a weight to them, an undercurrent of something more, in a tone that made your friend blink in confusion.

Slowly, you began to unzip your jacket, making sure each movement was drawn out. This wasn’t just about showing him the exercise; it was about showing someone else, too. The sudden sound of the zipper seemed to almost echo through the gym, a quiet invitation to anyone who might be watching. Finally, you revealed what you had carefully chosen to wear, an outfit designed to put the odds on your side. The effect was immediate.

You could feel Loki’s eyes immediately zeroing on you, and every detail seemed to draw him in like a magnet. The fabric of your outfit clung to your skin with a delicate stretch, outlining every curve and muscle as you moved. The shorts, the tight-fitting gym bra, the length of your legs accentuated by high socks—they all played their part. As you turned slightly, the fabric shifted and clung to your form, showcasing the subtle curve of your back, the way your muscles rippled with the slightest movement. Every inch of you was on display, and Norns did he noticed every part of it.

A loud thud echoed across the gym, followed by a sharp curse. “Damn it.” Loki’s voice rang out, laced with frustration, and you couldn’t help but smile inwardly. He had lost focus—your presence had distracted him so thoroughly that he’d accidentally dropped the weight he’d been holding. The sound of the barbell hitting the floor seemed to reverberate through the space, drawing everyone’s attention for a split second.

You couldn’t help but fight the smirk that threatened to tug at your lips. “I’ll show you what it’s like,” you said, your voice low, but full of intent as you took another deliberate step closer to Bruce. Those words were certainly meant for someone else, too.

You approached the pull-up bar with careful intent, your fingers wrapping around the cold metal. The exercise you were about to perform required complete focus and control. With a deep breath, you gripped the bar firmly, allowing your body to hang freely below it. As you did so, you consciously relaxed every muscle, letting your body fall into the natural stretch of the position. It was a simple exercise, but one that emphasized both strength and the fluidity of the body. Yours curved slightly as the weight of your form stretched out from the bar, loosening up your spine as the contours of your waist and hips became more pronounced with each passing second.

Loki’s gaze flickered toward you once again, his breath hitching at the sight. Every shift in your body, every movement of your muscles, sent a pulse of heat through him. He grit his teeth, the dirty thoughts that had been simmering beneath the surface rushing back to the forefront of his mind. The way your body stretched, your back curving just the right way—it was almost too much to bear. He tried to focus, to ground himself in the task at hand, but his attention kept being pulled back to you.

You let out a breath, your body still hanging for a moment longer before you spoke to Bruce, your voice cool but with a slight edge of confidence. "Relax your entire body," you instructed, your tone a touch haughty. "The point of this exercise is to let the weight of your body do the work. It helps open up your shoulders, stretch your spine, and build the necessary strength for proper pull-ups. Start by hanging for ten seconds at a time and gradually increase the duration. With practice, you'll be able to pull yourself up."

You paused for a moment, letting your body hang freely before pulling yourself up from the bar with smooth, controlled strength. As you reached the top of the movement, you held yourself there for just a second longer than necessary, your muscles tightening, flexing in the process. The motion was fluid, almost sensual, and the way your body moved with purpose sent a provocative ripple through the air. Loki couldn’t look away as he watched you, every shift in your body feeling like a challenge, an invitation. A low pained groan slipped from his throat, the sound nearly imperceptible, but the heat of his gaze on you was undeniable.

Thor, who had been observing his brother, glanced over in confusion as Loki seemed to stiffen, his eyes darkening in a way that made the tension between the two of them palpable. "Are you alright, Loki?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

The god didn’t answer immediately, his gaze still locked onto you as you effortlessly performed the pull-up, your muscles tightening and flexing with each motion. It was an almost agonizingly slow showcase of strength, one that seemed to taunt him, and he could feel every inch of his body reacting to it.

Oh, how he longed to run his hands over the smooth expanse of your back, savoring the lean strength evident beneath. The curve of your waist and flare of your hips beckoned like a siren's call, making his fingers twitch with the desire to explore, to map out every dip and swell. He could almost feel the heat of your body, like the flames of Muspelheim against his palms as he imagined gripping your hips and guiding you down, down, down until you were sheathed tight around his hardness. 

Another groan threatened to spill out at the vision, his shorts growing a little too tight for his liking. Gods, the things he wanted to do to you, with you, if only you would finally admit defeat. To run his tongue along the elegant curve of your throat, down to flick against your pulse point as he spread you out before him like a feast. To sink his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, marking you, branding you as his. To work you open on his fingers and tongue until you are dripping and ready, then push into your tight, wet heat inch by delicious inch. He'd rock into you slow and deep, savoring every gasp and moan, building the pleasure higher and higher until you were keening, lost to everything but the feel of him moving inside you.

Without a word, he spun on his hee and strode off toward another station, leaving Thor, in his wake who scratched his head, visibly puzzled. “Brother? What are you—” But Loki paid him no mind, his sharp steps echoing as he distanced himself.

You caught sight of Bruce still grappling with the pull-up bar, his arms trembling as he strained to lift himself even an inch. His frustration was evident in the tight set of his jaw and the way he grumbled to himself under his breath. The pull-up bar clearly wasn’t yielding any victories for him today.

Walking over with purpose, you kept your voice calm but firm. “Bruce, let’s try something different for now. We’ll come back to this once you’ve built up the strength for it.”

The scientist sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck with a self-conscious shrug. “I don’t know... I’m not great with this stuff. Maybe I should just stick to what I know.”

You smiled gently, tilting your head slightly to meet his hesitant gaze. “Come on, Bruce. Trust me on this. Baby steps, right? Let’s just take one in a different direction for now.”

He hesitated, his lips pressed into a thin line, before finally exhaling in defeat. “Fine. Lead the way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if this goes south.”

With a reassuring nod, you led him to the chest fly machine, your voice calm and encouraging as you adjusted the seat and weights for him. You were focused on making sure everything was just right for Bruce, but what you hadn’t fully accounted for was the proximity of this particular station to Loki, who was seated at the lat pulldown machine just a few feet away. His back was turned, but the tension in his posture was impossible to miss. Like a storm cloud, it hung over the room—dark and ominous, an undeniable sense of impending eruption lingering in the air.

For a moment, you found yourself distracted, your eyes unconsciously drawn to the muscles in his back as they shifted with every movement, the strength in his form almost hypnotic. The well-defined lines of his shoulders, the way his muscles flexed under his skin, it was hard to look away. But you quickly shook yourself out of the moment, snapping back to the task at hand. Focus, you reminded yourself, silently chastising your wandering thoughts.

“That’s it, Bruce. Slow, steady movements. Just like that, don’t rush it. You’ve got this,” you said, your tone supportive as he began his exercise. But even as you spoke, you couldn’t help noticing how Loki’s head tilted slightly in your direction, his sharp ears catching every word.

The creak of the lat pulldown cables drew your attention. Loki’s hands gripped the bar with unnecessary force, his movements precise yet edged with irritation. The sound of metal straining filled the air as he finally broke his silence. “Do you mind?” His voice cut through the room like a blade, low and seething with disdain.

You turned to face him, your brow furrowing. “What do you want?” you retaliated, a mix of confusion and irritation lacing your tone.

Loki swiveled his head slowly, emerald eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare. “Your incessant commentary,” he drawled, each word dripping with contempt. “It’s... distracting.”

You scoffed, planting your hands on your hips as frustration bubbled to the surface. “Are you serious right now? I’m helping Bruce. Maybe focus on your own workout instead of eavesdropping.”

Loki chuckled—low, humorless, and maddeningly smug. Leaning back slightly, he released the bar, letting it rise with a deliberate clang. “Oh, I’m focused,” he said, his smirk deepening. “But don’t insult my intelligence by pretending this isn’t calculated. Using Banner as a pawn? Transparent. And frankly, beneath you.”

Bruce, who had been silent throughout the exchange, finally frowned and glanced between the two of you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice quiet but tinged with irritation.

Throwing your hands up in exasperation, you turned to Loki. “Oh, here we go again. Not everything is about you, Loki! Believe it or not, I’m just trying to help.”

Loki raised a brow, his smug expression unwavering. “Help?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “Is that what you call it? Dressing like that, speaking like that? Admit it——you’re dabbling in something you don’t even understand.”

“Wha—Excuse me? This is rich, coming from the guy who prances around half-naked! You—”

Bruce abruptly stood, his chair scraping against the floor. His voice cut through your escalating argument with an uncharacteristic edge of authority. “Stop!”

Both you and Loki turned to him, startled. The doctor rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it was a sign that things had gone too far.

He took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists. “What is this?” he demanded, looking between the two of you. “You’re bickering like kids on a playground, and I’m just—what? A prop in your ridiculous feud?”

Your chest tightened as you started to explain. “Bruce, no, I swear it’s not like that—”

“Don’t,” Bruce cut in, his tone sharp and trembling with barely contained anger. “Don’t try to sugarcoat it. I may not be as quick as some people, but I’m not blind. I see what’s happening here.”

Bruce turned his glare to Loki, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “And you—you think you’re clever, don’t you? Always playing games. Well, newsflash—I’m not interested in being part of them.”

His breathing became heavier, his body trembling—not from nervousness, but from something darker, angrier.

Your heart sank as you realized what was happening. “Bruce, just take a breath, okay? Let’s calm down—”

But it was already too late. His muscles bulged, his skin darkened into a familiar green, and the roar of the Hulk filled the gym.

Loki’s posture stiffened, the usual cocky swagger evaporating as the Hulk’s colossal frame shifted toward him. For a split second, a flash of pure terror flickered across his sharp features, a haunting echo from the Battle of New York when the Hulk had sent him crashing into the ground like a discarded rag. The fear was brief, almost imperceptible, but enough to betray him.

Before he could react to the imminent danger, Loki’s hand shot out with a swift, panicked motion, gripping your arm. “Hold still,” he snapped, panic creeping into the edges of his words. You barely had a chance to process his command before a surge of green magic enveloped you both, and the world blurred.

When the world came back into focus, you found yourself near the shake bar, the sounds of destruction still reverberating in the air. Almost immediately, the deafening crash of the green giant’s fist pounding into the floor where Loki had just been standing shook the entire gym. The floor shattered under the impact, sending tiles and twisted metal flying in all directions, and the mutant’s fury seemed to crack the very foundation of the gym.

The Hulk roared, his rage transforming the once serene space into a battleground. He flung gym equipment effortlessly, sending heavy machines soaring through the air as if they were paperweights. Chaos erupted, and everyone nearby scrambled to find shelter, the panic rippling through the room.

“Loki!” you shouted, snapping out of your dazed confusion, yanking your arm free from his grasp. “What did you just do?” Your frustration was raw, even as the remnants of Loki’s spell still crackled in the air around you.

Loki's gaze darted over the chaos, his eyes momentarily filled with the same terror from earlier. “I saved your life, you ungrateful—” he began, but his words were interrupted by another piece of equipment flying past, narrowly missing you both.

In the midst of the madness, Steve Rogers appeared, cutting through the mayhem with his usual calm but commanding presence. His shield was already raised to deflect debris, and his eyes locked onto you both, burning with frustration. “What did you two do?” His voice was sharp, his anger evident as he assessed the destruction around him.

Before either of you could answer, Steve held up a hand to silence you. “No. You know what, I don’t even want to hear it. Whatever this is, it ends now.” The sheer force of his frustration was palpable in the air.

Without skipping a beat, he turned to Natasha, who had approached cautiously, her demeanor calm but alert. “Nat’, calm him down. Now.”

The red head nodded, turning her voice soft and steady as she made her way toward the Hulk. Her presence seemed to cause a momentary hesitation in him, but it was clear that the damage had already been done. The gym was a wreck.

Steve shifted his attention back to you and Loki, his voice cold and authoritative. “This session is officially postponed until tomorrow. And you two—” he gestured between you and the god with a firm, pointed finger, “—will clean up every inch of this gym before dawn. No excuses.”

With that, he turned, muttering under his breath about “grown adults acting like children,” his steps echoing as he left.

As the dust settled and the rumble of destruction faded, you whipped around to face the one responsible for the mess. “See, this is your fault!” you accused, your voice rising with frustration. “If you hadn’t been so focused on antagonizing me—”

His eyes narrowed sharply, his lips twisting into a thin line as he interrupted you. “My fault?” he hissed, his tone low and dripping with venom. “If you hadn’t been playing the role of coach, none of this would’ve happened.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “Oh, please. You were the one who couldn’t keep your jealousy in check! You’re so petty, it’s unbelievable.” 

“Petty?” Loki sneered, stepping closer, his voice dripping with indignation. “I am not petty. I simply refuse to be ignored.” 

The two of you kept throwing accusations, a fierce back-and-forth of words filling the already charged air. You stepped forward, jabbing your finger toward his chest, your anger boiling over. “Fine!” you snapped, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “Tomorrow, when we fix this mess, we’ll figure out who’s really at fault.”

Loki’s smirk returned, dark and calculating, his gaze shifting with a mischievous glint. He slammed his hands onto the nearby counter, leaning in until his presence was overwhelming, the space between you growing impossibly small. His voice dropped, laced with something far more dangerous. “Gladly,” he purred, his smirk widening. “But don’t expect to come out of this unscathed, darling. When I settle things, I make sure it’s unforgettable.”

Your breath caught in your chest as his gaze lingered, heavy with meaning. His words held a promise—one that left the air thick with anticipation. Then, without another word, he straightened and turned away, his smirk still in place as he strode out of the ruined gym. You stood there, caught between the remnants of a shattered gym and a body that pounded in more than one place. 

Tomorrow, everything would finally be settled, and the weight of it all seemed to hang in the air like a promise of more to come.

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