#ask box game gone awry

[jamiesfootball]

I wish you would write a fic where..

Jamie becomes the captain - I'd love to see him in that kind of leadership role where he has to be responsible for other people (that's why I'd also like to see him become a coach someday) or

Jamie wins some kind of award so I can see Roy and the rest of his family be proud of him :))

In the hours since you have sent this to me, I have devised a fic that somehow combines both of these things -- but in a way that no one but me has ever asked for.

How do we feel about Jamie winning a Webby?

At age thirty-three, Jamie Tartt takes a bad tackle on his right ankle, slamming the door on a career that’s been nothing less than show stopping. He takes the news that he’ll never play again like a champ--which is to say he takes it better than Roy did—and only spends a week sobbing into Roy’s couch cushion that his life is over. On the eighth day, he clomps and crutches his way into the kitchen. He fires up the live feed on whatever app he’s obsessed with now. With three days worth of stubble and bags under his eyes from crying, he announces to the world at large that he’s about to try, ‘Every damn TikTok recipe that I've missed out on because it's been outside of my meal plan for the past twenty-fucking-years.’ And so his new career as ‘obnoxious wastrel who tries to burn down Roy kitchen’ is born.

[rove-bogge]

It was time. This was it. The penpal exchange was coming to an end. Some wept with disappointment. Most, with relief, and others still with pain or embarrassment caused by prank presents or meetings gone awry.

Epel held his gift behind his back. He didn't want to knit another sweater, or blanket, or pair of socks-- that kind of felt like a cop-out, it's what he was giving practically EVERYONE this year. But it's not like he had much money to go and buy something else... so he had to be creative. He sighed... just his luck, getting a techie wiz kid as his secret gift receiver. A subject he was both not knowledgeable about, and out of the price range for.

But he did make it work. He knit Rove a pillow prop that could be used for some of his devices, or maybe for his homework or something if his devices weren't compatible. It was stuffed enough to give it shape and support something decently heavy leaning on it (like a hunk of metal and glass or whatever those things were made of), but it was also soft to the touch and could blend in as a throw pillow on a bed. Combining Rove's love of tech with his love of bugs, Epel took extra special care to knit the portion on the bottom meant to hold devices in place into a little smiling caterpillar. Green was Rove's favourite colour, was it not? Speaking of which, the yarn Epel used for the main body of the thing was close to white, but slightly tinted green. He actually didn't have a lot of super green yarn left, after his most recent project, but he was glad he had at least enough to finish the caterpillar.

All he had to do was deliver it. Honestly, he wasn't really sure how he felt about this guy. His last reply wasn't the most amicable, though it's not like Epel was expecting to walk out of this with a brand new bestie anyways-- this was mandatory. This was homework. He just had to get 'er done. That didn't mean he was gonna phone it in, though; he didn't do anything half-assed. He put a lot of work into everything he did, and that included knitting secret presents for bug enthusiasts that had called him "weird and annoying" and would probably laugh at him. Whatever. Ugh, he just wanted to get this over with now so he could go back to his temporary room. Though... the game Rove was talking about did sound fun (if a bit confusing). He kind of hoped they could still play it one day.

So, he walked around looking for Rove. Idly, he wondered about those last questions Rove had asked him-- it had been the last letter, so he didn't get a chance to answer. Would he be asked to now? It was equally likely that they would never speak again... Rove wasn't in the cafeteria, or the common areas. Epel asked a few people at Ramshackle if they knew where Rove's room was, and was pointed in what was hopefully the right direction. Honestly, wasn't that kind of an oversight on the school's part? Secret pen pals should have been given their target's room number for easy coordination. Maybe it was an issue of privacy/security? Well, if Epel was supposed to have been given Rove's room number, it was lost in the metaphorical mail. But he guessed it didn't matter now.

He knocked on the door, and waited for it to be answered. Hopefully Rove was alone, or it would have been doubly (even TRIPLY) awkward. He didn't need a roommate to witness this...

Once the door opened, Epel brought the box behind his back forward. It was wrapped in a shiny reflective wrapping paper the colour of a clip art Holiday Tree, and Epel had taken the time to draw little bugs all around it with a black marker. It was tied off with a blue and green bow.

"Surprise!" Epel said clearly, looking up at Rove with a hesitant smile. He figured Rove would connect the dots on his own.

The knock on the door had startled the blonde second year as he was spending time  with his precious bugs. So for poor Epel when he had opened the door a large Tarantula was sitting on his head looking down at the first year As Rove rocked his head slightly. He blinked at the box being held out to him in confusion. “I think you have the wrong door?” He started until it clicked. “Oh…pen pal thing?” He eyed the other up. The large tarantula hopped down onto the box that was still in Epel’s hands, clicking his fangs in curiosity until Rove took the box. “So you are my mystery Penpal.” He muttered, motioning Epel to come in if he wanted. Half the room (and a bit) was lined with small bug cases holding a mixture of insect life and the other half was clearly Jinx’s space. Sitting on the bed Rove set to opening the present Barrel the Tarantula already setting to ripping the paper. “So impatient…” Rove scolded the other softly almost like a father to a child passing the Large arachnid a corner of  the Torn paper so the creature could enjoy the fun of ripping it. “Sorry he’s been a bit crabby due to the reduced living space.” He mumbled realising Epel might have found it weird. “I thought we had another letter before this so I accidentally asked you more questions…whoops…” He stopped when he saw the small knitted holder. “Oh you knit…my granny taught me a bit of knitting but I doubt I could make something like this. Your links are super neat too. The caterpillar is rather cute too...” Watching as Barrel settled on the holder enjoying the soft bed he had now claimed. "Seems like you have the seal of approval." he chuckled slightly giving the large black and white tarantula a slight scritch on his head with a finger.

[lestweforget5]

Maybe one of Millie’s kids getting involved in like a Civil rights matter or feminism or maybe dating a POC and someone else having a preconceived idea about Millie’s opinion because army wife + southerner, but Millie being like ‘I fought against racist sexist arseholes! Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I am a racist sexist arsehole!’ But in a more Millie way of saying it.

Just Millie biting back at southerner stereotypes in her very Millie way.

Hello, Nonnie! Thank you for the ask! This has given me some very interesting food for thought. And I already know my thoughts are going to be quite lengthy, so I'm adding in the cut.

Given the role that Millie and the other women played during the war, I definitely could see her being interested/involved in, more quietly, some activist roles. And where ill-health/PTSD might stand in the way of Millie at some points, Maggie, who never marries and was even more outspoken than Millie, would also be an influence, I'd expect, on the Brady children.

Re the feminism angle:

Fighting for your country in a front-line role and, especially, being a prisoner of war changes you; you just can't rebound to what you were before the war, even if society at that period tended to itself rebound in the roles it expected of/allowed women during and after a war. I just finished reading a book called A Game of Birds and Wolves, which details the involvement of the WRNS in the development of anti-U-Boat tactics for the Battle of the Atlantic in WW2, and several passages at the end of the book struck me hard, thinking about this sort of context. The quotes are from pages 259-60.

‘The end of the war was a blow in lots of ways,’ said Peggy Hill, a Wren based at Swansea naval base. ‘Everybody felt the same. It was the end of a completely different way of living, like coming back to earth again. The missing went on for years.’ None felt ‘the missing’ more keenly than the women who, via war’s arrival, had been given an unprecedented opportunity to occupy spaces and roles that had been closed off to them. They had entered the war as one thing and exited as quite another. ‘The Wrens have carried out duties once thought to be completely outside the scope of womenkind.’ ... For the Wrens, the arrival of peace meant somehow relinquishing a new-found identity.

... When they arrived home, however, many of the young women found it difficult to reintegrate with former contemporaries. ‘They didn’t know what my life had been,’ said Claire James, a plotter who became a leading Wren. ‘I’d led a totally different life to anybody at home. I’d gone through things people at home hadn’t. I found it very difficult, settling back.’ ... The fresh opportunities that the country had, for a moment, afforded women in war were widely rescinded.

The women of the 100th bled and died and suffered for their country and saw horrors that you can never ever unsee. You cannot just go back to the status quo ante, even if other people want you to. Life doesn't work like that. People don't work like that. And while Millie is not looking for personal recognition, she wants those sacrifices to be acknowledged and honored and for her and the others not to be pushed back into the boxes of other people's preconceived notions of what women of that era should be. Not to say that there's anything wrong with being a stay-at-home mother or a housewife, but war irrevocably changes you, and what you were before isn't the same as what you are now, and as difficult as some male veterans found it reintegrating, I think female veterans in this Integrated AU would have A LOT of problems, too, and those boxes could have made it harder.

Re one of her children dating a POC:

I think this is the area where people's preconceived notions could go the most awry. After being further north long enough, Millie's Arkansas twang might soften a bit, but it is still quite noticeable for her entire life and marks her as someone who was born and grew up in the Deep South. And, sadly, being from the Deep South, especially in that era, can come with preconceived notions/implications about what that person thinks about ... issues of ethnicity, one could say.

But here's where things get interesting. In Sunward I've Climbed, when Macon, Jefferson, and Daniels arrive, Millie doesn't quite know what to think about their presence, if only because

there were so few colored folk in Randolph County, Arkansas, that she had rarely ever interacted with them growing up. At the very least, in the middle of a POW camp in the depth of Hitler’s Reich was the last place where racial issues needed to be causing conflict. They had enough enemies and problems to deal with without causing conflict with fellow Americans.

So, while Murph, who was from Atlanta, as I recall, was quite uncomfortable off the bat, Millie just follows Brady's lead and Buck's, for lack of any other plan initially.

So her first real interactions with POC are with Macon and Jefferson, as they all share a bunk room, and that influences her entire perception of those issues for the rest of her life and how she talked to her children about those issues.

(This is me just spitballing here, too, but given their talents in engineering and math, I could see Millie and Macon having some interesting conversations when they're both laid up in the bunk room, although I'm not knowledgeable enough about either to write a credible scene of such. There's just room for so much character development between August and her sharing her aspirin with Macon, when neither of them basically talk to her at all, to January where she carries with her the special birthday drawing Alex made for her.)

But, all that being said, yeah, Millie would not be very patient with being judged by where she was born. She's her own person with her own experiences, and even if she didn't say anything at first, she would definitely be quietly judging you and probably freezing you out ... in a very polite southern way. And knowing Brady will back her up would definitely help her take a stand on some issues.

[trashy28]

Get Some Rest (Tech x Reader) Pt 2

Warnings: anxiety, angst-y ?, mentions of death/near-death experiences, blood/gore, mentions of violence, fluff at the end i promise (i would say im sorry, but im not) (bet you didn't expect this right after a fluffy first part >:))

Pairing: Tech x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Oh no! It's a mission gone wrong trope! I wonder what could possibly be underneath this keep-reading cutoff! It totally cannot be where the reader and the bad batch go on a rescue mission only for something to go awry leading to treating injuries, and feelings.

"Everything is going to be okay. It will be alright. You got this y/n, you got this." You mumbled to yourself under your breath as you hid behind a convenience stall on some Outer Rim planet.

Something had gone wrong, VERY wrong. The mission was supposed to be easy: get in, get the prisoners, and get out, but it had all gone downhill faster than you could say dank farrik.

-

Earlier in the day, Tech had tapped into a secure Separatist transmission when messing around with his datapad. The Separatists were broadcasting a signal from a supposed neutral Outer Rim planet back to their base only a system away. They had taken the native people as prisoners and were going to use them for something, but none of you could figure out what. From then on, Hunter had taken charge, deciding that there was no time to ask for approval on the mission.

When the five of you reached the planet, you couldn't help but whisper to Tech next to you, "None of this seems right. If the Separatists did take these people as prisoners wouldn't there still be ships and droids?"

Tech simply looked at you before saying, "Not if they wanted to be secretive about it," and going back to his datapad.

You let out a huff. Things hadn't been that different between you two after the kiss you shared in the cockpit of the Havoc Marauder. When in private there would be shared tender moments, like there was nothing in the world that could come between you two, but with his brothers, Tech would regard you as the friend they all viewed you to be. They all knew something was going on between you two, and you had even taken it upon yourself to rant to Crosshair one night. He said he 'reluctantly' chose to listen, but he had calmed your anxious babbling about how you thought that Tech was embarrassed that you two were something now. That brought up another fact about how you two never addressed what you could call yourselves. Any time you tried to bring it up to Tech he would either cut you off with something else he was wildly researching, or one of his brothers would walk in and need either one of you. Crosshair's words did help to remind you that "That's just how Tech is sometimes. Clones were made to be fighters, not lovers." Leave it to him to say something like that. Out of every one of his brothers you knew he was the one who wanted a normal life the most even if he didn't show it.

As you and the rest of the group began your walk from the Marauder to the closest town you found yourself falling into step next to Wrecker instead of your usual placement besides Tech. Looking down at you, he asks, "Something bothering you? It sure looks like something is,"

Looking up to make eye contact with him you say, "I still don't feel like this is right. Everything seems to be falling into place too easily. This never happens to us!"

Wrecker turns his attention back to the surroundings passing a glance over the open area before stating, "Honestly, it is a little odd, but I trust the others and their intuition as much as yours."

The finality in his tone stood true as neither of you said anything for the rest of the walk into the town square. Walking past the empty booths would have been enough to send normal civilians running at the sight, everything was ruined. Curtains torn, fruit on the floor, and vendor booths destroyed. It was a depressing sight to see, but sadly one that the group was used to, it was a time of war after all.

After a little longer of walking and reaching the heart of the city, Hunter holds his fist up and all of the groups' motion ceases. "Tech," he says, "Can you pick up anything else from that transmission or anything that could give us a clue as to what else happened here?"

"I'm working on it, have been since we landed. The Separatists have scrambled all signals, so it’s taking me a while to try and find the frequency again," Tech answers before looking around the surrounding area, "As for what happened here, I think the evidence speaks for itself."

Hunter sighs before saying, "Alright, we'll split into two groups to cover more ground. Tech, and Wrecker you're with me. Crosshair and y/n, I expect no arguments coming out of this grouping."

Crosshair scoffs as you roll your eyes and make your way to stand next to him. "Didn't plan for arguments but maybe I'll start a few just to piss you off now," you say as you turn back towards Hunter.

"Just make it back here in one piece, we'll meet back up here at 1500, and if anybody is late, we assume they have gone missing and this was a trap," Hunter says before turning away and starting to walk down one of the many deserted alleys.

"Looks like we're stuck together again Cross," you let out before elbowing his side and starting to walk forward.

Following you and shoving a toothpick in his mouth he says, "As long as you don't complain about your problems with your boyfriend the whole time this might just be enjoyable."

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get going you karking toothpick lover."

-

It had only been around half an hour or so of walking before you and Crosshair could hear blaster fire in the distance. You ask, "Hey Cross, am I dehydrated, or is that actual blaster fire?" Turning around to face the said man, he already had his eyepiece down checking for heat signatures and was pulling you by your arm into a space between two buildings.

"There's nothing around us, but I'm assuming the others encountered some clankers. They must have found something because well, we found nothing and have no one after us," Crosshair states before tilting his helmet down to you and reading your facial expressions, "You want to go back and help them, don't you?"

"Of course I do Crosshair! Don't pretend that you don't want to either, I know how you care for your brothers. Let's just try to make it back without alerting any of those damn droids," you reply.

Crosshair tilts his head towards a stack of boxes and towards the roof of the buildings, you were situated between. "I think I have an idea."

-

"Why the hell did I let you come up with the idea to get back to your brothers. Running from roof to roof isn't exactly easy and leaves us out in the open," you complain before hopping another gap in-between roofs to catch up with Crosshair.

Crosshair stops short in front of you on the next roof almost causing you to walk into him before turning around to face you, "Look, I'm just as anxious as you to get back to them, but they are all capable enough to take care of themselves and I trust them with that. You of all people should know that as well," he spits angrily, and could almost hear a growl with his final punctuation.

"I know Crosshair, I get that you are worried, but I just can't help thinking that something had to go wrong. Let's just hope that my intuition is the wrong thing," You say before putting a hand on his shoulder, "C'mon, let's make this fast."

-

By the time you had made it back to the town square, to your luck, you still had not encountered any droids except for the ones who were scattered all over the floor in pieces.

"Looks like Hunter got to work on these guys," you say as you bend down to touch the large gash left by a vibro-knife in the torso of a droid.

Crosshair is examining another droid with its head ripped off only a few meters from you, "Looks like Wrecker got these guys too. But the question remains: where are Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech?"

At this, you paused and drew your focus away from the droid and instead survey the area, "The real question is, why is there no evidence of Tech fighting back? There are no electro-proton bombshells and even no blaster marks on any of these guys."

"Maybe they split up," Crosshair looks at you before pointing down one of the alleys.

"Fuck, I hope you're right."

-

It didn't take both of you that long to find Hunter and Wrecker, but it also didn't take long for another set of droids to ambush you. That's how you found yourself pressed behind the convenience stall mumbling under your breath. You had managed to take down a few droids but were forced to take cover. The others were still scattered around picking off droids one by one just as you remembered that Tech was still nowhere to be seen. Your mind was rushing faster than you could've ever thought trying to find out any idea as to where he could have gone.

Suddenly the blaster fire stopped as you heard a final clank from a droid hitting the ground. As you stood up you looked around cautiously, and deciding the coast was clear you jumped over the stall to group up with the rest of the bad batch.

As everyone began looking over each other there seemed to be only one thought shared between the group. This was a trap and Tech was gone.

Trying to alleviate the sour mood the group was plunging headfirst into you chuckled before saying, "You guys can finally say I was right now."

The others groaned before Hunter said, "Now is not the time y/n, Tech's missing and we have no clue where the kark he could be."

"You think I don't know that Hunter?" You let out through clenched teeth before continuing, "I'm just as worried as you are right now, but let's get somewhere where we don't have to worry about droids ambushing us."

Crosshair let out a sigh from beside you, "They're right. We won't be able to help Tech if we're dead so let's get back to the ship."

Picking up what he was putting down you finished for him, "We can re-group our thoughts on the Marauder, come up with a game plan, and then retrace our steps. It will do no good thinking while our minds are in 20 places at once."

-

Back on the ship all of you had gathered around the small datapad you placed in the middle of the table. "Alright, I tracked Tech's datapad's last known location to here, but who knows if it even with him," you say before zooming in on the location, "We can't guarantee that it would be safe either, we all know the number of clankers they sent after us just to try and keep us away."

"As long as I get to blow something up and get Tech out, anything is a good plan," Wrecker says before heading towards the back of the ship.

Crosshair nods at both you and Hunter before getting out of his seat to go and follow Wrecker.

"I know you're really worried, you don't hide your emotions that well," Hunter says while placing a hand on your shoulder.

"No shit Hunter," you start while rolling your eyes, "I'm worried about what might happen if we can't find him, or even if it's too late and he's already gone. I don't know what I would be able to do without him."

Hunter gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "It will be okay y/n. For our sake and yours, let's think positively."

-

The four of you had made your way back into the town square better equipped and without a problem. You had some of your own plastoid armor on now for a bit of extra protection in case things decided to take an even stronger turn for the worst.

"The signal from the datapad is down the alley to the Northeast," you say while glancing up from your own datapad.

The group nods back at you as you continue your way down the alley. It was quiet, the tall sand-colored buildings surrounding you couldn't help but make you feel claustrophobic. The other alleys were not like this. They had seemed to be more open, with a lot fewer canopies, but this one had canopies blocking almost all the sun. It also didn't help that it was starting to get dark.

As you reached another intersection, Hunter held up his fist to signify everyone to stop. A wave of déjà vu flashed over you, and you prayed to any gods that would listen that you wouldn't split up again. After a few moments, Hunter turned to you and tilted his head to the side, to which you answered by pointing your hand to the alley to the right. In a whisper, you add, "If we continue straight down that alley, we should reach another intersection. Tech's datapad should be there."

The four of you continued walking again and when you reached the intersection you couldn't help but let out a strangled sob. There was a pool of blood on the farthest side of the intersection that was smeared on one side. Rushing up next to the blood, you stopped mere centimeters from it as your eyes caught sight of Tech's datapad. Your hands were shaking as you reached for it and you brushed a finger over one of the bloody fingerprints. "Oh shit," you say letting out a shaky breath. How could you have let this happen; how could you allow yourselves to walk right into a trap? Now Tech was gone, bleeding out, or dead, and there was no exact way to trace him.

You see Wrecker's hands wrap around your own but don't register the feelings. Your whole body has seemingly shut off and stopped processing the world around you. Wrecker takes the datapad from your hands and passes it to either Hunter or Crosshair. You are too shocked to care as you collapse to your knees. Wrecker is at your side on the ground in seconds and pulls you right into him. The plastoid armor that would bring you so much comfort as you used to hold Tech close only burned as tears began to fall from your face. The air was thick with remorse and regret, but you couldn't hold on to the fact that he could be dead. After a few somber minutes recollecting yourself, you pushed away from Wrecker and pushed yourself off the ground, offering a hand to Wrecker to assist him. Once both of you were up and you had cleaned the sand off your pants, you turned towards Hunter and Crosshair. They were silent as ever, Crosshair had taken a seat on of the nearby crates and had his head in his hands, and Hunter had taken to looking at Tech datapad.

Breaking the silence, you spoke first, "We can't just give up and believe he is dead," startling Crosshair causing him to jump in his seat.

"Yeah, we need to think he's still out there, that the Separatist kept him alive for information," Wrecker added, backing you up.

Hunter had turned back around waving the datapad, "They were smart enough to keep his datapad here, but they weren't smart enough to wipe any messages on it."

At this, you scrambled over to Hunter's side and pulled that datapad closer to your face. Displayed was an unsent message to you that contained various numbers. "Coordinates," you say breathlessly as Crosshair joins the rest of you standing in a haphazard circle around the datapad. Adding, you ask, "Do you think those are the coords of the base where they took the prisoners too?"

"Probably," Crosshair speaks for the first time since arriving at the intersection, "Let's hope Tech's there too."

Taking Tech's datapad from Hunter, Crosshair begins off in the direction leading away from Tech's bloodstain on the ground, but also opposite the way you came. The rest of you fall into step behind him and continue your way to your destination.

-

On the way following the coordinates, all four of you were on high alert, but no droids had come to attack you, relieving some of the stress. It didn't help relax you guys upon seeing the droids surrounding a large sandstone castle-like building. Stopping at the crest of a hill a while away from the makeshift Separatist base, Hunter and you took to scanning the surrounding area, while Crosshair and Wrecker began to formulate some form of attack.

"Once again, I can tell you're worried," Hunter said as you both had scopes pulled out to try and find any weak points in the droid formations.

"And once again, we all are Hunter. I just hope we aren't too late," You reaffirm before pointing at a space straight ahead, "Look, they're rotating shifts. Maybe we could find a way in on their next rotation."

Hunter turns to look at you before saying, "How would we know when the next rotation is?"

"I don't know, maybe figure out what time it is Mr. Survivalist," you taunt sarcastically.

Hunter scoffs before saying "It's 1900, we could use the fact that it's dark out now to our advantage. It could help us slip in and out undetected if we want."

Nodding before standing up, you say, "True, let's go tell the others and see if it can play into their plan."

-

Once getting back to Crosshair and Wrecker, all four of you focused on a plan and decided it was best to split into two groups to help divide the droid forces. There would be no surprise ambushes by the droids, but instead an ambush on them. You and Hunter taking the back way in, through the gap in droid shifts you noticed earlier, while Wrecker and Crosshair would work on some sort of distraction from the front.

Wrapping up the discussion of the plan one last time before separating Hunter adds, "Remember, this is a rescue mission. Once we have Tech and possible other prisoners we get out as fast as we can."

You, Wrecker, and Crosshair nodded before wishing each other luck as they walked off from your position.

"You ready y/n?" Hunter asks.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you say back to him as you two make your way towards your position.

-

Once situated towards the back of the building, Hunter commed Crosshair saying, "The droids are about to rotate positions, on my word start whatever distraction you have in mind."

The two of you waited on edge while the minutes drew on. After what felt like forever the droids finally began to move. At this, Hunter commed Crosshair again with finality, saying, "Now."

From your position, you could see the blast from the explosives Wrecker had set off, along with the heavy concentration of blaster fire. The droids that were covering the area where you and Hunter immediately went to act as reinforcement to those affected by the blast.

Hunter and you ran from your location to the back of the building, quickly finding an open window. Pulling the window open more, you forced your way inside as Hunter followed. The room was empty, and most of the lights were off. Pulling out a flashlight you scanned it across the floor quickly before turning it off again to not be spotted, even if there was a small chance of that.

"It looks like we are in some type of living room," Hunter says before making his way away from the window and peeking his head around the corner of the door and into the hallway. "The hallway's clear, I would say split up to cover more floors, but seeing what happened last time I told everyone to split up... I don't think that's a good idea."

Nodding you made your way over to him to look out into the hallway as well. "I say we go to the basement if there is one. It would make sense to keep people prisoner there," You say before stepping foot into the hallway.

"Yeah, but the only problem is finding stairs that could lead to a basement," Hunter says while stepping into place behind you.

"It shouldn't be that hard, plus if Tech was still bleeding by the time, he got here, wouldn't you think there would be a trail of blood where they brought him?" You shuddered while stating the possibility out loud, just as Hunter made a noise of acknowledgment.

After what felt like hours of walking the hallways on high alert, and checking most rooms as you come across them, you staggered trying to stop yourself from walking as you finally caught sight of some blood on the ground. "Hunter," you whispered, "Look."

Hunter looked around your form to get a glance at what you were looking at, before shining his flashlight down the rest of the hall. "There's a trail too," he said while keeping his flashlight trained on the spots of blood.

"C'mon," You say as you grab him by the hand and pull him the rest of the way down the hallway.

Stopping at the end of the said hallway you are greeted by stairs to the left of you, and you turn to Hunter before silently agreeing to walk town together in sync. The stairs were solid sandstone, so you didn't have to worry about any creaky stairs, but you did have to worry about footing. Pulling out your vibro-knives at the same time as Hunter, you two started making your way down the stairs. The sight that waited for you and the bottom of the short walk would stick in your head forever. The basement was one single connected holding cell, with prisoners lined up against the bars trying to get a look at you. Some of them were crying, others wailing in pain, and some had fallen into silent spells. Noticing this, Hunter and you quickly put your knives away before you rushed to the gate with the main lock at it. While you made fast work of the lock and quickly picked it, Hunter had begun reassuring the people that we were here for help and that he was looking for someone who looked like us. With the gate, open people poured out in a mass exodus and began to make their way upstairs, without a single care of what could happen to them.

Once almost everyone was out, you and Hunter made your way into the cell where you were greeted with another terrible sight. Tech was there on a stone table in the middle of a cell with one of them, now freed, prisoners hovering over him. His armor was off and tossed to the side as he was only in his blacks, and he had a bacta patch wrapped around his torso. You rushed over to him as Hunter escorted the prisoner out of the cell and couldn't help but let out a sob for the second time today. Tech looked frail, and you hesitated to even reach out to touch him fearing that it would break him. You were immediately relieved after placing two fingers on his wrist and feeling his pulse. It was weak, but it was still there. "Hunter! I need some help down here," you call out before starting to run around the table to grab Tech's armor. Hunter came running back down the stairs at your call and once you saw him you continued, "I need you to carry him out of here. I'll get his armor, but we need to move fast before the droid realize that this was all a diversion."

At this Hunter makes his way to Tech's side without a word and picks him up and slings him over his shoulder. Grabbing the final pieces of Tech's armor, both of you begin to make your way up to the stair. Tapping the comlink on your wrist you hear blaster fire permeate through the room around you. "Crosshair, we got Tech. If I know Wrecker, he probably has some explosives, so as soon as we get out of the house, give him the word to blow this place up."

"Got it," Crosshair says before the comlink closes with a beep.

"Let's try a nearby window and get out of here as fast as we can before we tell them to set the chargers," you say to Hunter as you force your way ahead of him and into the closest room. Hunter follows you before grunting as a noise of approval. Making your way to the window, you grab Tech's helmet from where it sat under your arm and smashed it. Hunter gives you an exasperated look as he walks past you and out the window first, to which you only say, "What? It was a lot easier than putting everything down and opening it.

Once both of you are outside, you make your way to the location where you two started the mission. Reaching the spot a few meters away, you open the com with Crosshair again, "Crosshair, tell Wrecker to light it up. Now!"

Instead of getting an actual response as an answer, you could hear the various explosions coming from the area behind you.

"Nice work you two but meet up with us where we made camp before, it will be quicker to get back to the Marauder with Wrecker carrying Tech," You say into the com again before forcing yourself to walk in the direction of the temporary camp from before.

"Rodger that," Both Crosshair and Wrecker's voices come through the comlink before the transmission ends again with a beep.

-

The four of you, plus an unresponsive Tech, met up quickly and rushed back to the Marauder as soon as you could. Reaching the ship was a relief as Hunter had immediately gone into the cockpit and got you guys off the planet, and Wrecker took Tech to the bunks with you in tow with medical supplies.

Once Wrecker placed Tech on his respective bunk, you immediately rushed him out of the room and got to work. Removing the hastily applied bacta patch, you assessed the wound that Tech had got before he was captured. It was nasty at first glance, but you assumed it was even worse before he had the first batch patch applied. The cut ran from his left shoulder across his torso, coming to finally stop at the bottom of his right ribs. Luckily, the cut wasn't that deep, because there would have been hardly a chance, he would've survived that. Continuing your work, you cleaned the wound before wrapping it up again in another bacta patch. Standing up and observing the handiwork of your terrible medical experience, you run a full body scan with your datapad just to check for any other injuries that could internal. Thankfully, the scan came up negative and you could assume that Tech had just passed out due to blood loss. He still looked extremely pale as you stood there and stared at him, but some color was starting to return to his body.

Sitting back down, you grasped his hand in yours and looked at both hands together. As the weight of the day's events slowly started the catch up with you, you could hardly help yourself as you began to fall asleep. In a state of half-consciousness, you could've sworn you felt Tech's hand squeezing yours, but you were too tired to even process the notion that he might've.

-

The feeling of someone pulling your hand to their lips pulled you out of your nap and caused you to pick your head up from the side of Tech's bunk.

"Good morning Tech," you said before you could even process what was happening, but as soon as the words left your mouth your head snapped up and your eyes immediately widened. "Tech! You're up!"

Tech let out a breathy chuckle before trying to force his way up, only for you immediately to place your hand on his good shoulder and force him back down, "Nope, no getting up for you just yet. You had us all worried sir," you say while shifting your position to get a better look at him.

"I never meant to cause you guys any trouble," he says sincerely, "We had all got split up when those droids attacked us, and they caught me by surprise by sending in reinforcements."

"It's okay Tech, you don't need to justify your actions, you're alive and here back on the Marauder with us. That is all that matters," you say before gripping his hand again and squeezing it.

"Y'know while the droids were dragging me away as I was bleeding out, I couldn't help but focus on one thing," he says while squeezing your hand in return.

"Oh? And what was that?" You ask with a smile on your face.

Tech smiles back at you before bringing your hand to his lips again and placing a firm kiss on your knuckles, "I couldn't stop thinking about how I hadn't told you how much I love you."

Freezing in your place at the combinations of the words and the sincerity in Tech's tone, you couldn't help but find yourself smiling wider at what he had said. "I love you too Tech, too much. I thought I had lost you today but I'm so glad I didn't," you say with finality in your tone.

Leaning down to place a kiss on his lips you find yourself in a state of relief. Tech was back and safe out of harm's way, and he really does love you. Pulling away from the kiss, but still holding eye contact with him you say, "You still need to rest up, and don't think that kissing me will be a distraction."

Tech rolls his eye and lets out a groan before smirking and saying, "Well after I'm all healed you better make it up to me."

You smack his leg and let out a huff of frustration and as you go to walk out of the room you say, "We'll see about that one Tech. We'll see."

taglist: @bandaid-bunny @haloangel391

a/n: once again i feel like this is meh but i still dont know. i meant to have this done 2 days ago but almost passed out because of my second dose of the covid vaccine, plus i had a 6 page paper due so likeeee. anyway TAKE THIS right after the new episode, also if you guys watched it already... HOLY SHITTTT 🙏

[wrenhyperfixates]

Because I Love You

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You’ve fallen for the trickster god, and have no idea that he’s done the same. When his attempts to keep you safe fail, you get into a huge fight. Will you be able to tell each other how you really feel, or is the rift too wide? Warnings: mentions of blood; fluff and angst A/N: This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, and it really took on a life of its own. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy it just as much :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Oh, come on, Loki,” you pouted as you helped him load up the Quinjet for the mission he was about to leave for. “I can handle myself.”

“Yes, I know, darling,” he replied with a sigh. “But this is going to be dangerous. I would feel much better knowing you were here, safe.”

“Fine,” you pouted as he took the box you were carrying from your hands.

You’d been having this argument all week. For some reason, Loki had been blocking you from going on more and more missions lately, but he went above and beyond this time. As soon as it had been announced, you’d volunteered to go. But then Loki went and talked to Steve to convince him his magic was necessary for the job and, from what you can tell, persuaded Cap that he should take your place.

The God of Mischief had been your best friend ever since he came to Avengers Tower. It hadn’t taken you long to realize that you wanted him to be something more, though. With every brush of his fingers against yours, bored glance sent your way during meetings, and laughs shared as you talked late at night made you fall deeper and deeper in love with the god. But this was getting annoying. It was nice that he cared about you, though it also made you sad. No matter how much you wanted him to feel the same way as you did, it was pretty obvious that he didn’t. Even worse than that, you were convinced that he thought of you as just a kid.

“Oh, darling,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders as your eyes raised to meet his. “Please, do not be upset. The next not dangerous mission will be yours for sure.”

“Do those even exist?” you asked with a wry laugh.

“Yes. Ones where you will without a doubt be out of combat.” You frowned at him and opened your mouth to protest. He continued speaking before you could. “I am quite aware of what a fierce warrior you are, dear mortal. But you are also fragile. I will not let anything happen to you. You are my most dear friend, darling.”

“I know,” you sighed, unable to stay mad at him. “But you have to promise you’ll stay safe, too.”

“I promise, darling.” He kissed the back of your hand, making you flustered. “I will be just fine.”

As the jet pulled out of the hangar, you waved goodbye to Loki, praying that when he came back, things could finally change between you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ll do it,” you declared at the next meeting.

“Ok then,” Steve replied. “You, me, and Nat then. We leave tomorrow at noon.”

It was a little nerve wracking to be going on a mission with two of the best fighters on the team, but you were sure it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. Loki was still on his mission, so there was no one to block you from taking this opportunity. You hoped so, anyway.

The final preparations were made, and you looked at the file in your bed that night. It should be a relatively easy mission; silently infiltrate the hydra base and download the intel from their computers. It was a small base, only a handful of enemy operatives should be there. Well, that was what you were planning on, anyway. Of course, there was always a chance things would go awry.

Suddenly, your phone rang. You plopped the file down on your comforter and checked the caller I.D. It was Loki. You worried that he’d caught wind of your plan to go on the mission tomorrow. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another couple of days, plenty of time for you to go without him interfering. That’s why you hadn’t told him yet. But if he already knew, he would certainly do everything in his power to stop you from leaving.

“Hey, Loki,” you said, nervously picking at the string on your sweatpants. “Are you ok? How’s the mission going?”

“Splendid, actually,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “So well, in fact, that I will be returning home early.”

“Oh! That’s, uh, great news.” You were trying to sound excited. It wasn’t working. “When exactly are you going to be back?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied. “I was wondering if you wanted to do something when I get back? Perhaps watch a movie or read together in the library?”

“I’d love to, Loki, really. But I’m going to be a bit busy tomorrow. Maybe if we meet later in the day?”

You were always tired after a mission, but you should be back in time to do something with Loki. And if you were just going to be reading, it would be relaxing. If you were lucky, you may even fall asleep, and he would carry you back to your bed. That had happened a few times before, and you’d woken up in his arms as he brought you back. You didn’t tell him, though. Instead, you just enjoyed the sensation of being in his arms, feeling safe and happy. It also reminded you of just how strong he was, being a god and all. You supposed that’s why he worried so much about you; you were just a mortal. His strength was contrasted by the way he carefully tucked you in and caressed your cheek. Your heart had beat wildly as you wondered if he might kiss you. He had not.

“Oh? What are your plans, then?” he inquired. “If you do not mind, maybe I could join you.”

“I, um, would of course let you, but Nat and I are going to be doing a special training routine all day,” you lied. “It’s supposed to just be the two of us. Sorry.”

“That is quite alright. We will just meet later. I look forward to it.”

“Me too. I’ll see you then, Loki,” you said, hoping to hang up before you felt guilty enough to come clean. “I better get some rest.”

“As should I. Goodnight, darling.”

You tossed the phone next to the file and sighed, covering your eyes with your arm. You hated having to lie to Loki, but you’d never go on another mission if you didn’t. Besides, he said you could go on one that wasn’t too dangerous, and the chances of getting hurt tomorrow were pretty slim. It would be fine. At least, you sure hoped it would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They are where?” Loki asked, his voice rising in panic. “Doing what?”

“I just told you, Reindeer Games,” Tony replied, a knowing smirk on his face. “They’re on a mission. What? Did your little lovebird lie to you?”

“That is preposterous for more reasons than I can count. They are only my best friend, but still they would never lie to me. I would have known if they had, anyway.”

“Well, maybe your judgment was clouded because you-”

“I swear if you say I love them,” Loki interrupted, “there will be a dagger buried in your side faster than you can even comprehend.”

“Yeah, sure. Right,” Tony said, unconcerned. Loki never made good on his threats to his friends, bar a tiny prank here or there. Whether it was because he actually cared about them or was just worried he’d be locked up again, no one was really sure. “All I mean to say is if you stopped preventing them from going on missions, maybe they would tell you the truth.”

He hated how right Tony was. His judgment was clouded, and though he didn’t want to say, it was because he cared about you. But loved? Did Loki even know what love was? He really wasn’t sure. Regardless, he should have been taking you on missions with him, protecting you from any danger. He’d seen you fight a great many times, you were good at it. But all that needed to happen was one tiny slip-up, one small mistake, and you’d be dead in a matter of seconds.

“Maybe, but do not tell me you have never gone to extremes to protect someone you care about,” Loki snapped back.

“You’re right. I have. For the people I love.”

“Oh, never mind!” Loki said, desperately trying to avoid a conversation about his emotions. “Just tell me which bay they will be returning to so I can go wait for them.”

Tony obliged, and Loki anxiously paced the floor, fidgeting with his hands as he anticipated your return. What seemed like, and very well could have been, hours later, your transport pulled in. He wasn’t sure if he was going to hug you or scold you first. It would probably be the first option. Sure, you’d lied to him, but he wasn’t blameless either. All that mattered was you were safe.

“Clear the way,” Steve shouted, as he and Nat helped you hobble out of the jet.

Loki’s heart plummeted to his stomach as he noticed a deep red staining your shirt, right below where your liver was. Sweat glistened on your brow as you struggled to stay up. He ran up to you and took you in his arms, running towards the elevator before he realized he could just teleport. He was at the med bay in seconds, screaming for help.

“Bring them here,” one nurse said, wheeling a gurney. “We’re prepared for them.”

He said a silent prayer of thanks for whoever had called ahead. There was nothing left to do but stare on helplessly while they took you away. He whirled around as Nat and Steve finally caught up.

“What happened? Tell me,” Loki demanded to know.

“There were more agents than planned,” Steve explained. “But they took the bullet so we could complete the mission.”

“And that makes it alright?” he shouted, completely bewildered.

“No, it doesn’t,” Steve tried to pacify him.

“But it was noble,” Nat added. “And they’re going to be alright.”

Loki stayed in the waiting room for the next couple hours, running his hand through his hair as a nervous tic. The other Avengers came and went, Thor begging his brother to at least sit for a little as it got late. But he refused. He would not rest until he knew you were alright. But what was this tight feeling in his chest? This painful feeling of anxious despair? Could Stark be right? Could he love you?

He loved you.

“Mr. Laufeyson?” a nurse said, approaching him.

“Yes,” he immediately responded, a slight edge to his voice. “Are they ok?”

“They are. The wound wasn’t as bad as it looked; they just lost a lot of blood. You can go in and see them now if you want.”

“I do. Thank you.”

With a nod in her direction, Loki was racing towards the room she’d directed him to. Before he just waltzed in, he calmed himself down enough to knock on the open door, drawing your attention away from the window and to his face. A smile instantly lit up your features as you saw him, sparking in him an intense hatred at the thought that he may have never seen that again had today gone differently.

“You lied,” he said, his voice even yet menacing. He surprised himself, for that wasn’t what he had been planning on saying. But now he felt angry enough to shout at the top of his lungs. “You said you would just be training.”

“Look, I’m sorry about that. I am.” Your eyes flicked down to the floor before meeting his again. “But I know you would have tried to stop me. You didn’t leave me with very many options.”

He let out a wry laugh. “I was protecting you!” Now he was shouting. “You do finally go out on a mission and look what happened!”

“I’m fine now, Loki,” you shouted back, seething. “That’s what happened! I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Do you have any idea what I would have done if you died?” You recoiled at his blunt, harsh words, making him instantly regret them. Besides, they were slightly manipulative. He didn’t want to do that, not to you. He wanted to change the direction of the conversation. Still, he carried on with his rant, having lost control. “Your behavior is reckless at best. I insist that you stay at the Tower, even once you are done healing.”

He knew he’d overstepped as soon as the words left his mouth. Even if he hadn’t, the murderous look in your eyes would have clued him in. Before he could apologize, take back what he’d said, you were talking again, your voice now a dangerous growl.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I am not a kid, I don’t need you to protect me. I don’t need you.”

Your hands flew up to cover your mouth, not quite believing what you’d just said. Loki just flinched like a kicked puppy, tears stinging at the back of his eyes. It was his fault. He’d pushed you away. Why did he say those horrible things? Why did it take so long to admit to even himself that he loved you? Why didn’t he just tell you how he truly felt?

“You are right,” he replied, his blue-green eyes glued to the tile beneath him. “You do not need me. I will leave you alone now.”

His heart ached in his chest as you called after him. He wanted to go back, but now he could see he was no good for you. Or at least his latest actions weren’t. Had he really made you think he viewed you as a child? Based on what you said, it sure sounded like he had. What a fool he was.

He sullenly walked to his room and took in the space with fresh eyes. He thought of how many movies you’d watched together there on the tv he had installed specifically for that purpose. All the times you’d stayed up talking, comforting each other. Would he truly never have that again?

He wanted to scream, to cry, but mostly he just wanted to sleep. He should make amends, he knew, but he just wasn’t sure he had the strength to. Not if you truly didn’t need him, and to hear that you meant it would be more than he can bear. Loki closed his eyes and fell into a slumber riddled with dreams of you and all that could have been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A month. He hadn’t talked to you in a month. Every time he was ready to talk to you, you were avoiding him, and every time you were ready to talk to him, he was avoiding you. It was frustrating, to say the least.

You were still healing a little, but had made a fairly quick recovery. Despite praying for the same to be true of your relationship with Loki, it was still as damaged as ever. But sometimes he’d still make you a cup of tea on the mornings he knew you’d need it most. You couldn’t tell if it was out of habit or if he still cared for you. You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

Checking the time, you realized you were going to be late for a meeting. You knew you weren’t supposed to run, lest you re-injure yourself, but you wanted to make sure you got there in time to get a mission assigned to you. It would be your first time back in the field since the accident. Maybe that was an odd thing to be excited about, but you were. Or maybe you just wanted something to distract you from the whole Loki situation.

“There you are,” Steve greeted. “We were just about to start.”

As of late, you and Loki had been sitting as far away from each other as possible. Today, due to your late arrival, there was only one seat left. Your old one, right across from him. With a gulp, you took it, looking everywhere but him. As Cap began speaking, you dared a glance at Loki out of the corner of your eye. He was staring right at you, as if willing you to look back. He must not have been though, because when you did turn to him, he looked like a deer caught in headlights and looked away from you. The light blush coloring his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you, and utterly confused by his behavior, you turned your attention back to Steve.

“Ok,” Steve said, turning to you. “I’ve got another intel mission for you, but only if you’re up for it.”

“Of course,” you replied, willing the nerves in your stomach away. “When do we leave?”

“Well, it’s not ‘we’ exactly,” he said, clearing his throat.

You glanced around the room. All the best fighters were already on a mission, and if you were going, it was probably to deal with the computers, not be the muscle. Bruce was still here, but if he was going to come, it wouldn’t be a stealth mission. Thor and Tony didn’t really specialize in stealth either, but it was more probable. And then there was Loki.

“So who am I going with then?” you gulped.

“Loki.”

“What?” the god exclaimed. “Why me? Cannot Natasha go? Or my brother, perhaps?”

“Nat’s on a mission,” Steve replied. “And anyway we need your magic.”

“Ok, well what about me? I can sit this one out,” you chimed in. “Tony is plenty good with computers, too.”

“Yes, but you’re stealthier,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Listen,” Tony chimed in. “It’s true that I’m amazing with computers, but Capsicle gave you the mission, not me. I don’t know what little lovers’ quarrel you two are having right now, but you need to put it aside for the good of the mission. Whatever’s going on, you’re still teammates.”

“Fine,” Loki said through grit teeth, snatching his file from Steve’s outstretched hand. “I will go.”

All eyes in the room turned to you as Loki stormed out. With a sigh, you nodded your head yes and took your own file. You flipped through and saw you’d be leaving tonight.

As soon as the meeting ended, you went to your room to pack. You considered trying to find Loki and talk through your issues, even going so far as to walk up to his door, but you chickened out at the last second. Sitting on your bed and flipping through the file, you were reminded of the last mission you went on. But not memories of getting shot; you thought of your phone call with Loki. You’d been doing so well with not crying, but you finally broke down. All you wanted was to be able to sob into Loki’s shoulder, be held in his arms. But no matter how helplessly in love with him you were, you were certain he could never feel the same.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride over to the hydra base was hell. It was just you and Loki, not even a pilot since the jet could fly itself. You spent the whole flight in silence, stealing glances at each other. With nothing else to do, you reviewed the file again. The plan was to have Loki cover you both with an invisibility charm, and you’d sneak into the computer lab. From there, he’d keep lookout while you downloaded the information. Once that was done, you should just be able to stroll out under the invisibility spell. Ideally, there would be no combat. Not like “ideally” went so well last time.

“Ready?” was all you said to break the silence as you landed.

“Yes. You?” he replied.

You nodded, and he handed you your bag. Stepping out of the cloaked vehicle, Loki cast his enchantment over you. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as he took your hand. You could still see each other and, and you softly smiled up at him.

“The spell will work better the closer we are, darling.” He seemed to rethink the use of the pet name, but it had slipped out before he could stop it. “I will let go once you set to work.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied somewhat dejectedly. “That’s fine.”

He kept his word and held on until you reached the room. When he let go, it seemed to be somewhat reluctantly, or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“This shouldn’t take long,” you reassured him.

“Take your time,” he said with the most genuine smile you’d seen him have in over a month.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, but Loki was standing so close to you that your mind kept straying. It was like with every second that passed, he crept even closer to you. When it got to the point that he was practically standing on top of you, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“Can I help you?” you snapped.

“Pardon?”

“Why are you standing so close? Do you need something?”

“Yes. I need you to be safe. If there is a bullet fired today, I can assure you, you will not be taking it.”

“Loki, I thought I told you. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Did Natasha need you to protect her? Did Steve?”

“Well, no, but-”

“And yet you did anyway,” he cut you off. “Because it is something that you do when you care. And I care deeply for you, my darling.”

Your mouth hung open a little in shock. You supposed you shouldn’t read too deeply into it. After all, he didn’t say in what way he cared, and he had been your best friend before all this. It was probably just that. But the way his thumb was caressing your cheek as you leaned into his hand made you think differently. Before you lost your nerve, you surged forward and kissed him. He returned it immediately, though he seemed a bit surprised. His lips were soft, and you wanted to drown in the sensation of him. Your arms wrapped around behind his neck, and when you pulled away from the heated moment, you brought your hands forward to rest on his shoulders.

“Darling,” he whispered.

“Yes, Loki?”

“There are a million things I wish to say to you. But they will have to wait until we are done with the mission and back on the ship. Safe.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, pulling away sheepishly. “That.”

You finished the data transfer and were on your way back out. Loki held you even closer than he had walking in. A couple of agents passed you, and despite your urge to fight, the god held you back while the charm did its work. Loki hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath until you made it back to the Quinjet safely.

“So,” you said after a minute of flying in silence. “Are you ready to talk then?”

“Yes, darling. I am.” He moved, so that he was sitting next to you, holding your hand. “I made a mistake, I understand that. I was overbearing and lost my temper without even trying to talk things out. I am sorry.”

“Loki, I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I said some awful things that I didn’t mean. Plus, I lied to you, my best friend. I miss you.”

“All is forgiven.” He pressed a quick kiss to the back of your hand. “I miss you, too. And there is something else. What you said in the hospital wing? About me treating you like a child? You do not actually believe that I think of you as such?”

“I, well, sorta,” you stammered, a panic building in you. Maybe that kiss was unwanted, after all. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then, darling, I am sorry for that, too. It is not true.” He got up from his seat and knelt before you, never letting go of your hand. “Because you mean so much more to me than that. Because I love you.”

You launched yourself into his arms, kissing him again. He laughed in delight as the sudden force of it knocked him over, both of you landing on the ground, you on top of him. You didn’t even bother to get up.

“I love you, too,” you said before peppering his face with a thousand tiny kisses. “And I need you. I’ll always need you.

When you were done, he looked into your eyes for a second before kissing your lips again. It was heaven. Neither of you even noticed that the plane landed and ramp opened until you heard a wolf-whistle. You looked over to see Tony standing there.

“Well, Reindeer Games,” he smirked. “Looks like I was right, you two do love each other.”

You felt rather flustered as you and Loki sat up. Before you could come to your defense, Loki spoke, eloquent as ever.

“Yes, Stark, you were right,” he said, with eyes only for you, getting ready to kiss you again. “And I could not be happier.”

[typical-simplelove]

3. Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen with Matthew Tkachuk

A/n: This one is for @mtkxchuk; I hope you enjoy this!!

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @petey-patty (Do you want to be tagged in my fics? Fill out this form.)

Matthew’s parents were coming to town. Matthew’s parents were coming to Calgary which meant that Matthew was trying to seem like a stable adult for them. He didn’t want to come across as a five year old living in an adult’s body. Thankfully, though, you lived with Matthew, so that meant that you were able to help him function as a normal human being.

In the two years that you’ve been dating Matthew, you’ve taught him how to read directions on the packages of food, so he can cook for himself. You’ve taught him how to turn on a dishwasher and properly place dishes in it. It’s safe to say that you’ve groomed Matthew to know how to do the things you’ve been doing since middle school.

You walked into your shared apartment about one hour before Keith and Chantal were expected to arrive. Matthew was going to pick them up, but their flight got delayed and Matthew would have been stuck in traffic going to the airport. It was best that they took a taxi to Matthew’s. You couldn’t believe the sight that you were met with.

Matthew had three or four cookbooks open on the counter. Something was overflowing on the stove, and you were pretty sure you could smell something burning. On top of that, it looked like Matthew had cut himself cutting some kind of vegetable.

“Matthew?” you ask cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I think so?” he says. No, he was not okay. He was trying to cut some asparagus, but he cut himself.

“Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen and go to the washroom to clean up that cut,” you direct.

As Matthew walks out of the kitchen, you observe the mess and figure out how to fix it. You turn off the stove and examine what was overflowing. Pasta -- Matthew covered the pasta while it was boiling and didn’t allow for any air circulation. You open the window to try to get rid of the burning smell in the kitchen. You look at the stove and notice that it’s off. Weird, what was burning or had already burnt? You close the cookbooks because there shouldn’t be so many open on the counter. You toss the asparagus that Matthew was cutting because it was red with blood.

After establishing that you felt it was safe to keep the kitchen unoccupied, you walked to the washroom to look for your boyfriend. He found him standing at the sink with his hand under the cold water running. You reached into the medicine cabinet and grabbed the box of bandaids. You took Matthew’s hand and dried it on a towel. You placed a soft kiss around the skin where he cut himself and opened the bandage to place there. After wrapping the bandaid onto his hand, you placed another kiss on the wound.

“Now, would you like to tell me what happened?” you ask.

“I was trying to cook dinner for us and my parents, and I just failed,” Matthew said, deflatedly.

You nod. “Okay, well, everything in the kitchen is past the point of being able to use.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Why don’t we clean up the kitchen? We can order pizza tonight and use the excuse that because your parents flew today, they’d probably want something simple. Tomorrow night, we can cook something for them together after your afternoon game. Does that work?”

Matthew nods. “You’re a lifesaver. I have no idea what I’d do without you.”

“Probably burn down the entire building,” you tease.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Matthew says.

Matthew’s parents were none the wiser when they walked into the apartment almost an hour later. The burning stench was long gone, and there was no evidence of Matthew’s cooking experience going awry. You had pizza ordered and the table set, so everything was ready to eat when Chantal and Keith arrived. The next day, you helped Matthew cook a meal for his parents which went without a hitch.

The one takeaway from this cooking disaster was that Matthew was truly hopeless in the kitchen, but you were always there to help him. For that, you knew Matthew would always be grateful for you for.

[4stars-uswnt]

If I Hated You [Alex Morgan x Reader]

requested by anon: Hey I love your works!! I was wondering if you could do a fic based on fletcher’s new song ‘if I hated you’ with Alex x reader, if possible with an eventual happy ending? If not I totally understand but thank you so much for all the fics you’ve shared and done for us.

requested by @eclipses77​: Hey I was wondering if you could write a fix based off Fletcher’s new song ‘If I Hated You’ with any person you want but with a happy ending if possible.

A/N: thank you to both of you who requested this! and to the anon: i’m so glad you enjoy my fics. i have a great time writing them for you guys. 

this isn’t really a song fic with lyrics and everything. it’s mainly just inspired Fletcher’s song, so i hope y’all still enjoy it anyways :) also i may have gotten a little carried away with it.

ps. thanks to @sauceysonny​ for talking through this prompt with me and letting me rant through my ideas

warnings: swearing

Listen to “If I Hated You” by Fletcher here

You throw the sheets off your body for what feels like the hundredth time that night. You had been tossing and turning, unable to sleep with the other side of the bed being so empty. You reach for your phone to check the time. 2:13 am. The photo on the lock screen makes your heartache. It was a photo of you and Alex that Kelley had captured in the locker room after the World Cup, your foreheads pressed together, oblivious to the rest of the world. Shutting your phone off, you turn over and stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out how you’d gotten here.

—————

“I can’t wait to see you this weekend.” You chirp, smiling at your girlfriend through your computer screen. There had been a week break in the NWSL season, so Alex had decided to visit you up in Seattle for a couple of days.

Alex gives you a sheepish look. Being able to read your girlfriend like a book, you feel yourself deflate with defeat.

“You’re not coming, are you?”

“Babe, I’m sorry. I have to go to LA for some meetings with the Olympics committee and with Angel City. I am so sorry.” Alex apologizes.

Her apologies felt useless at this point, as your girlfriend was always cancelling on you, putting you second. You look down at your hands, ignoring Alex’s gaze.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I’ve been really busy lately.” She tries again, hoping to get a response out of you.

“You’re always busy, Al.” You mumble.

“I know, babe, and I’m sorry, but there’s not a lot I can do about it.” Alex defends.

You roll your eyes, annoyed at your girlfriend’s excuses. “Yes, Alex, there is something you can do about it. You can tell them that you already have plans. Or that you have to go visit your girlfriend, who you haven't seen in almost two months. Or that they can fucking wait because Angel City isn’t happening for another year and the Olympics aren’t for another eight fucking years.”

Alex sits on the other side of the screen stunned by your outburst. In your arguments, you were usually the calmer one, Alex being the one with the temper, but you just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

You sigh, tired of fighting with the other woman. “Al, maybe we should just take a break.”

“What?” Alex sits up at that, leaning closer to the screen.

“Look, I know we love each other and everything, but recently it just feels like our relationship is strained by the distance and all of our commitments.”

“You mean my commitments.” Alex countered.

“I didn’t say that, Alex. Stop putting words in my mouth. We are both to blame here. I just feel like we need some time to ourselves to figure out what we want from this relationship.”

Your heart aches, as the words leave your mouth, and as you see tears form in Alex’s eyes.

“Are you sure? Because I don’t wanna take a break.” She whispered.

“Al, I don’t wanna take a break either, but all we’ve been doing lately is arguing, and I just think we should take a little time to evaluate our own lives.” You feel tears pooling in your eyes.

“Okay, if that’s what you want, love.” Alex nods, wiping her face.

“I think it’s what we need.” You swallow the knot in your throat. “This isn’t the end, Al.”

“It better not be.” She lets out a watery chuckle, and you fondly smile.

“See you later, Ali-gator.”

Alex smiled at your nickname for her. The two of you vowed you would never actually say ‘goodbye’ to each other because you always knew you’d see each other again.

“See you in a while, crocodile.”

—————

That conversation was almost two weeks ago, and since then, you had been an absolute mess. Although you were used to being alone in Seattle, being on a break from your relationship made you feel even more lonely. In the past couple of weeks, you had barely left your apartment, only going out for training, games, and the necessary grocery shopping.

Your phone had been blowing up with text messages from your national team teammates, who were all concerned about you after hearing the news. Not bothering to give any of them any details, you responded to the group chat with an ‘I’m fine, you guys. Please respect me and Alex’s privacy.’ Alex soon replied, adding ‘What (Y/N) said. We love you guys, but we need to work through this ourselves.’ Both of your texts received many hearts and likes, following with ‘We’re here’ and ‘Love you guys’ from the women, and the texts stopped after that.

In Orlando, Alex hadn’t been faring any better. After returning from LA, she spent most of her time moping around her house in sweatpants and a hoodie she’d stolen from you. Ali, Ash, and Syd would all stop by or invite her over to cheer her up, but Alex was heartbroken without you.

—————

The next morning, after having gone to bed at around 3 am, you slip on a pair of shorts and one of Alex’s Cal hoodies and drag yourself to training.

As you walk into the locker room, Allie and Megan exchange a look of concern, noticing the bags under your eyes and your hood pulled over your head. Your two national team teammates had been worried about you for the past couple of months, even more so in the recent weeks when you and Alex had decided to take a break. They knew the distance was causing you stress, and now the separation was causing you heartbreak. But every time either woman tried to approach the subject, you shut them out, insisting you were okay, when you clearly were not.

Towards the end of practice, after another one of your passes goes awry, Farid calls you over.

“(Y/N), you doing okay?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed. He had heard the whispers in the locker room, your teammates voicing their concerns, and he could tell something was bothering you, so much so it was disrupting your play.

“Yes, coach.”

Not wanting to push you, he hums. “Okay, then you better start playing like you’re doing okay.”

You nod, embarrassed by your own unprofessionalism. “Of course, coach, sorry.”    

He blows the whistle, ending practice, and you scurry back to the locker room.

Back in the locker room, as you’re taking off your cleats and packing up your bag, Allie slips into the seat next to you.

“(Y/N), you wanna come over later?” Allie places a hand on your knee. “We’re having a barbecue. Megan and Sue will also be there.”

You snort. “And be a fifth wheel? I’m good, Allie, but thanks for the invite.”

“(Y/N),” she starts again, “even though I’m Alex’s best friend doesn’t mean I don’t care about you either. Megan and I, and the whole team really, are here if you ever wanna talk.”

“Thanks, Allie.” You smile, as you stand up, swinging your backpack over your shoulder. “Maybe I’ll stop by for a little bit.”

“Awesome.���

—————

Later than evening, you made your way over to Allie and Bati’s place, ultimately deciding that being a fifth wheel was better than sitting at your apartment alone with another box of takeout.

You enter through the side gate, heading into the backyard, where Bati is barbecuing and Megan, Allie, and Sue are chatting around the table. Hearing you open the gate, Bati looks up from the grill.

“Hey! Look who made it!” He gives you a big grin, opening his arm up for a side hug, which you accept.

“Hey, Jose. Thanks for having me.” You softly smile.

“Of course, (Y/N).”

“Aye! (Y/N)! Get your butt over here!” Megan calls from across the yard, waving you over.

“The queen is calling, so I must go.” You joke, making your way over to the table.

“(Y/N/N), I’m glad you could make it.” Allie gives you a brief hug. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water would be great.” You thank her, before turning to Megan and Sue.

“Long time no see, Birdie. Good game the other day. You played, eh, okay.” You smirk at the basketball player, who just rolls her eyes.

“It’s good to see you too, (Y/N/N). Thanks. A triple double is okay. But I dunno if I could say the same about you. I hear you’re not playing like the superstar you are.” Sue teases, resulting in a slap from Megan, who gives her girlfriend a warning glare.

You ignore the pink-haired woman and the ache in your chest. “Just having a couple of bad practices. I’ll be tearing up the field in no time.” You boast flippantly.

Seeing past your confident facade, Megan narrows her eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay, (Y/N)?”

“P, I’ve told you a million times. I’m fine.” You give her a tight smile, silently telling her you don’t want to talk about it.

Before Megan can ask you anymore questions, Allie and Bati approach the table with plates of food in their hands.

“Time to eat!” Allie cheers. “Oh, and, (Y/N), here’s your water.”

You mutter out a ‘thanks’, and take a large gulp, pushing down the knot forming in your throat.

—————

Dinner went smoothly the five of you discussing an array of topics, ranging from the upcoming NWSL and WNBA season to the election to the newest Italian restaurant that opened downtown.

By the time you all are finished eating, it’s dark out, leaving only the fairy lights to illuminate the yard. You go to clear your plate, but before you can stand up, Bati grabs it from you.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N/N). I got this.” He motions for you to sit back down, before reaching to collect the rest of the plates. “Why don’t I clean up and leave you ladies to chat?” Bati quickly pecks Allie’s cheek, before heading back inside.

Once it is just the four of you, Megan turns to you.

“(Y/N), seriously, how are you feeling?”

You internally groan. You should’ve known this was gonna turn into an intervention. Before you go to respond, the older forward continues.

“And don’t give me that ‘I’m fine. I’m good’ bullshit.” She raises her eyebrow, daring you to challenge her. “Because obviously you’re not fine, and you’re not good. For the past two weeks all you’ve been doing is moping around your apartment, wearing nothing but sweats. You’ve barely eaten an actual meal until today, nor gotten a good night’s sleep. And to top it all of you’ve been playing like crap!”

Sue hits Megan’s arm and scolds her. “Megan!”

The pink-haired woman faces to her girlfriend. “No! I’m not going to sugar coat it. (Y/N) needs to hear this, and she needs to talk about.” Megan turns back to you and softens. “(Y/N/N), you can’t keep bottling up all your feelings. We care about you, and we’re here to listen, so please talk to us.”

Both Allie and Sue nod along with Pinoe’s words.

“Honestly,” you take a deep breath, before starting, “I’m a mess. Like before, I was annoyed and angry that Al was making me a second priority, but now I’m just sad and heartbroken that she’s not here with me.” You finally confess to the other women, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your chest. “And, I mean, I didn’t want to take a break, but our relationship just felt strained. Like we weren’t communicating, and I think the distance was getting the best of us, especially with all of our commitments. I don’t know. Do you guys think I made the right decision?”

Not knowing what to say, the three woman look at each other, searching for answers. Finally, Sue speaks up.

“(Y/N), none of us can know if you made the right decision.” She reaches to squeeze your hand. “Only you and Alex can know what’s right for yourselves and your relationship.”

You nod in understanding. “I love her so much, and I wish we could just be together because all I want is to be by her side.” You whisper, your eyes getting misty. “Ugh, I just miss her so much.”

“I miss you, too.”

You whip your head around. There, in all her glory, stood Alex Morgan. She doesn’t look any better than you, your Reign sweatshirt hiding her muscular frame and dark circles forming under her eyes. Your lips part, as you’re completely speechless.

“You’re car wasn’t in your lot, so I assumed you were either here or at Pinoe’s. This was my first stop, and here you are.” Alex shifts uncomfortably in the silence, her usual confidence faded.

You turn back to face Allie, Megan, and Sue, your eyes narrowing. “Did you three know about this?”

“No!” They all exclaim, Megan holding up her hands in innocence. You continue to stare at Allie, not convinced she had no part in this.

“I swear, (Y/N), I had no idea about this.” She insists, as you relent your accusatory glare.

“(Y/N),” Alex comes up from behind you, “they had nothing to do with this, so please don’t be mad at them. I came here all on my own because I wanted to talk to you. I needed to see you.”

You nod. “Ok.”

“So, can we talk?” She sheepishly asks. “Alone, if that’s okay with you?” She adds, pleading her friends to leave you two to talk.

The three women take the cue and head back inside, leaving you alone with Alex, who sits in Pinoe’s seat across from you.

You sit in awkward silence for a few minutes, neither of you knowing where to start.

You decide to break the silence. “How’ve you been?”

She looks up from her fidgeting hands. “Uhh. Good. I’ve been good.”

You smirk, raising your eyebrow. “Al, c’mon, I know you like the back of my hand. How have you actually been?”

Alex sighs. “To be honest, I’ve been miserable.” She looks up, locking eyes with you. “I missed you, and I just wanted be with you, or even just hear your voice.”

You nod, knowing the feeling. “I missed you too, Al.”

“But you were right.” She confesses, as you tilt your head, confused. “We, or at least I, needed this break. It helped me realize what was important in my life, and that’s you, (Y/N). I can live without all those brand deals and sponsors, hell, I can even live without soccer, because none of that means anything if I can’t share it with you.”

By that point, both you openly had tears streaming down your faces.

“So, I promise to be better and to be more committed to our relationship. And I’m sorry that I ever put you as a second priority because you’re not. You’re my number one.” Alex concludes, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

You let out a small chuckle at her cheesiness. “Thank you for your apology.” You take her hand. “And I’m sorry that didn’t make enough of an effort either.” Before Alex can protest, you squeeze her hand. “Al, a relationship is between two people. This wasn’t just your fault, okay? We both played a part.” You assure, quelling her guilt.

“So can we end this break and be back together?” Alex whispers hesitantly.

Beaming, you pull her in for a searing kiss, your first in almost three months. Her soft lips melt against yours, and you could taste the sweetness of her vanilla chapstick mixed with the saltiness of her tears. Before you could deepen the kiss, you hear Allie call from inside.

“No sex in my yard please!”

You rest your head on Alex’s shoulder, as the two of you laugh at your friend’s antics. Your girlfriend caresses your cheek, guiding you to lock eyes with her pleading blue orbs.

“Do you forgive me?”  

You nod. “Yes, Al, I forgive you.”

“Good. I thought you hated me.” She mumbles.

“I could never hate you, even if I tried.”

Alex smiles, leaning in for another kiss, before you hold up your hand.

“But, Al, your words are nice and all, but I have to see it. You have to prove to me that you’re committed to this relationship, especially if it’s long distance. And I will work to do the same. Okay?”

“Of course, (Y/N/N).” She nods her head eagerly. “So, I’m guessing it’s okay if I stayed here with you in Seattle for the next week?”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“They had to cancel training and matches for the next week because of some flooding issues at the facilities. So I’m all yours until next Sunday. That is, if you’ll have me.”

You jump off your seat and into Alex’s lap, pulling her in for another kiss. “Who am I to refuse such a pretty lady?” You tease, giving her nose a kiss.

“Alex and (Y/N) sitting in a tree…!” Allie sings, as her, Megan, and Sue approach the two of you.

“I take it you two made up?” Megan gestures to your position in Alex’s lap.

“Yes, we made up.” You grin, as your girlfriend kiss the top of your head.

“Good. I’m glad.” She returns a smile, and you mouth a ‘thank you’ to her.

“Me too.” Alex beams, turning to look at you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You bring her in for a sweet chaste kiss.

“Hey! What did I say about no sex in my yard!” Allie playfully scolds.

“It’s not my fault (Y/N) can’t keep her hands off me.” Alex smirks.

You gasp, jumping out of your girlfriend’s laugh. “Hey!”

“I’m only kidding, babe.” She rolls her eyes, pulling you back into her lap.

You cross your arms and pout. “I hate you.”

Alex chuckles, as she buries her face in your neck, giving you a kiss. “No you don’t.”

You smile, turning to the woman you love, and give her a quick peck. “You’re right. I don’t.”

[wedreamedlove]

[FIC] Golden Wheat

Rating: M Characters: Xu Mo/Reader Word Count: 4388

Tags: Lime. Fluff. Minor angst. Established Relationship.

Notes: He’s 29 years old, if we’re counting from when this game was released in China! (I have to make myself feel better about my own aging LOL).

Summary: Sometimes a special day doesn't need anything special, simply being together with someone important to you is enough.

"Mhm, I just got off work and I'll be coming home after making a quick detour. I'll only be 10, maybe 15, minutes later than usual."

You tell Xu Mo this through the phone while weaving around people on the sidewalk, heading for a bakery which was just across the street from you.

"Huh? Oh no, you don't need to come pick me up. Seriously, I'll be home before you—ah!" You jerk to a stop before you step out into the road when a car comes to a screeching stop right before the crosswalk, blaring its horns at you.

Excuse me? The walking sign is clearly on and flashing, so you have the right of way! Was the driver trying to run a red light?!

You give them the stink eye and then cross the street quickly, this time after checking to make sure no other cars are going to try and break the law, before picking up your conversation on the phone again.

"Hello? Sorry about that. Anyway, like I said, I'll be back before you know it. Just relax and wait at home!"

You don't hear a response after your words though so you bring the phone down only to see that the screen is completely black. Did your phone die!? But it was clearly at 20% battery the last time you checked... You know you should have replaced this old phone with a new one, but work has been so busy lately that the matter keeps slipping your mind.

Hopefully, Xu Mo got most of your message though. You speed up your steps just in case and head into the bakery to get the birthday cake you ordered in advance. You and him planned to take a trip to celebrate his birthday and, unlike the first celebration, you're determined to make sure this cake survives its journey to him.

~~~

Of course, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Who knew you would end up waiting in line forever just because a customer decided to argue with the counter clerk. It gets to the point where you contemplate stepping in to save the poor employee who is being berated, but fortunately a manager appears to handle the irate customer.

After that whole situation is resolved though, there's an issue with your custom order in their electronic records and the employees have to spend a good chunk of time manually finding your order in the back of the store.

By the time you leave the bakery, you decide to hop into a taxi to get home instead of taking the subway, thinking that will be quicker, but it's peak rush hour now and you end up getting stuck in the traffic of everyone else trying to go home.

Your estimated 10 to 15 minutes of being home later than expected becomes an hour and a half. You also have no easy way of contacting Xu Mo to let him know. For a second, you think about asking to borrow the taxi driver's phone, but decide that will be too much of a hassle.

You just know Xu Mo is going to give you that helpless smile of his, tinged with exasperated affection, when you get home and tell him all about your Herculean journey today.

Finally, the taxi brings you to the small neighborhood where you are living with Xu Mo and you quickly pay the fare before jogging through the small path between the trees to the house and the man you know is waiting at the end.

You lift your eyes up automatically, straining to see a familiar silhouette on the veranda where he will often lean against the rails to catch sight of you whenever you return home later than him. However, you don't see any figure on the veranda. The lights of the house are on, so you know he must be at home. But you don't see him.

Just as your eyebrows start to furrow, you hear the gravel ahead of you crunch and shift and your line of sight drops down to see Xu Mo appear on the road home.

Oh. He must have been unable to wait for you and came down to personally welcome you home instead. Fondness and amusement wells up in you and you get the urge to tease him for his impatience.

"Xu—" You start to say his name, but then you find yourself pulled into a crushing embrace. Caught off guard, the cake box tumbles out of your hands and onto the ground between you two.

"You're home."

His voice is hoarse and the freezing cold fingertips that brush against you, when he curls a hand around the back of your head to hold you closer to him, gives you a shock. How long has he been standing out here waiting for you?

You can feel his throat move beside your ear, Adam's apple bobbing, as if there are too many things he wants to say but he doesn't know where to start and so he can only swallow the words down. It's so unusual for your professor that your hands hover in the air, not sure what has come over him, before you finally return his embrace.

A tremor runs through him at your touch.

"I'm back."

"... You were gone for much longer than 15 minutes later than usual."

There was an angry customer in the bakery. The shop had problems. The taxi got caught in traffic. My phone died. These phrases appear in your head but they all sound like excuses even though there is no censure in his voice.

"I'm sorry," you say instead, feeling contrite as you realize he was genuinely worried, "I should have let you know somehow."

His silent laugh stirs your hair. "I'm not blaming you, but hm... maybe you do need to pay a price for lying."

It's your turn to laugh against him and the weight in your chest disappears when you hear him slyly trying to get a benefit. If he can tease you like this, then whatever emotions that had prepossessed him earlier are now gone.

"Alright, name your price." You place yourself in his hands without hesitation, curious as to what he'll ask for.

"Let's cancel the trip tomorrow."

However, you weren't expecting him to say this. You blink and then reflexively step back to be able to see his face. Xu Mo lets go, giving you this space, and watches you with a calm expression.

You can't read anything in those quiet and dark eyes, but it's extremely rare for him to openly go against something he knows you've been looking forward to, especially when the purpose of this trip is to celebrate his birthday. You don't refuse him though. You can't and never have whenever he voices his wants.

"Okay, we don't have to go. It'll be your birthday after all, so whatever you say goes." You smile brightly to let him know you really don't mind.

"Thank you." His expression softens, eyes suffusing with tenderness, and then he bends down to pick up the fallen cake box in one hand before reaching out with his other to grab yours. His slender fingers slide in between your fingers and your hands press together, palms flush with each other. "Let's go in before you catch a cold."

"You're one to talk," you reply, squeezing his cool hand in emphasis before you place your free hand on top of his and yours and try to rub some of your warmth into him.

He leads you on the short path home and you swing your joined hands lightly as you tell him all about your day. When you get to the part about the cake, the two of you are already through the front door and you cast a look at the box in his hand, which he's placing on the small entryway table, and sigh as you take off your shoes.

"I'm a bit scared to open the box and see what happened to that poor cake after its fall. Hey, how come there's always cake casualties on your birthday?"

You raise your head up to look at him only to feel something warm press against your mouth.

Xu Mo takes advantage of your surprise to deepen the kiss. Despite the chill that lingers in his hands when he cups your face and in the tip of his nose when he tilts his head, skimming it against your cheek, his tongue is burning hot. His need for you is consuming, completely at odds to the calm appearance he had earlier, and you find yourself falling.

No, you really do stumble, breaking the kiss when your legs go weak and you barely manage to clutch onto his shirt in time before you slide down to the ground.

This doesn't even faze Xu Mo though, who lowers his head to follow you and catches the rim of your ear between his lips. His breathing echoes the pounding of your heart and then you feel him drop his hands from your face to loop an arm around your waist and the other below your backside before he lifts you up.

"Xu Mo!" You startle when you suddenly find yourself weightless and entirely in his arms. You grab onto his shoulders instinctively to balance yourself. "Wait—"

But with your faces at the same level, he kisses you again. You dimly feel him press you against the wall of the foyer before the white-hot surges of pleasure muddles your mind and completely drowns out your thoughts.

You're breathless by the time the kiss ends. Still, somehow you manage to gasp out, "The cake..."

Shouldn't it be checked to see if anything can be saved and put in the fridge? Or if not, thrown away?

"We'll make another one together tomorrow," his voice is low when he responds.

It takes you a second to understand him, because that wasn't what you were asking. He doesn't give you a chance to clarify though as he seals your mouth with his again and takes away your ability to think. His tongue sweeps across the sensitive spots in your mouth, making your toes curl and your legs clench around him, before he turns his head to the side to place open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck.

Ragged breathing resounds in the space between you two and you can't tell whether it belongs to him or you anymore. But every time his breath brushes against you, it leaves a streak of damp heat and you dig your hands into his shoulders, head falling to one side as his lips slide down your neck.

"May I take you to bed?"

The words are mouthed against your fluttering pulse more than they're said out loud and then he pauses his assault on your senses, waiting to hear your answer. His breathing is heavy and you can feel the tension in his muscles underneath your hands, like his entire body is as taut as a bowstring, but he holds you steadily and patiently.

Your cheeks flush with heat at the direct question but you still nod in permission and then lean forward, shifting your arms so you can wrap them around his back, to hide your face in his neck. When you do, the comforting and familiar scent of grasslands fills your nose.

Xu Mo's arm around your waist tightens for a second before he carries you effortlessly into the bedroom where he sets you down gently onto the bed and then leans forward to cover you, settling a knee in between your legs.

But, having unclasped your arms from him when he put you down, you press a hand lightly against his chest, making him pause. You flick your eyes to the light switch in the room and then back to him.

Xu Mo takes in your red face and appears to understand your insinuation but, much to your surprise, he doesn't grant your wish and instead says, "Let's leave the lights on tonight."

If it's possible to turn any redder, you're pretty sure you're doing it right now. You want to protest but the words catch on your lips when you look at him and realize he's not teasing you.

There is enough light in the room to see his subdued expression clearly but it also casts a shadow at the edge of his features and—maybe this is just a trick of the light—there seems to be a layer of fragility around him. Beside the bed and him is the full length window that faces the trees in the back, with its curtains partially drawn right now, but the sliver of darkness you can see suddenly strikes you with an irrational thought. If the lights were to be turned off right now then would Xu Mo vanish into the darkness? Would the shadows around his edges spread like a drop of ink in water and consume him?

Before you know it, you loop your arms around his neck and pull him down into you, not wanting there to be any space between you two, and he comes to you without resistance, catching your mouth with his.

The lights in the house remain on long into the night.

~~~

You wake up slowly to fingers playing with the bangs on your forehead and the occasional brush of those fingertips against your skin is gentle.

You breathe in deeply, filling your chest with the smell of damp meadow and something cool like mint, before you open your eyes and, as expected, see Xu Mo sitting beside you above the covers in a short robe. He's reading something on his tablet, glasses perched on his nose, but he looks over the moment you stir.

"Good morning," you say, but your own scratchy voice shocks you. You clear your throat, eyes wide, and there's an amused smile on Xu Mo's lips as he exchanges his tablet with a glass of water from the side table and helps you sit up before handing it to you.

"It'd be more correct to say good afternoon."

"Huh!? Why didn't you wake me? We're going to be late!" You barely avoid choking and spilling the water on your pajamas when you hear the time. How can you two get on the train in time if it's already the afternoon?!

"Silly, we canceled our trip. Remember?"

"O-oh, right."

"I also thought it'd be better for you to sleep more. I'm afraid I asked a little too much from you last night," Xu Mo says apologetically, smoothing your bed hair with a hand, before he takes your empty glass to put it aside.

You blink at him and it takes a good second for you to register his words. Then the memories of last night come flooding into your brain.

A creaking bed.

The damp heat that presses against your back.

Bunched up sheets clutched and shifting beneath your hands.

Hot and heavy breaths echoing beside your ear.

Pleasure peaking and taking you under, but just as you sink down he starts to move again, bringing another thundering crest of passion.

Your breathless and weak voice begging for mercy.

A hoarse plea in response, "Stay with me a while longer. Just a while longer."

Ravishment swirling with ecstasy mixed with intensity until you're drowning in an ocean of fervor...

You don't remember anything else concrete. Just flashes of other images and sensations like his hand entwined with yours. The... variety of positions. But now you understand why your body aches all over and why your throat was so dry just now.

Immediately, your face feels like it's on fire and you squawk before diving under the covers. You hear him laugh from beside you, making you reach out to blindly smack at his hip.

He catches your hand in his though and kneads the pads of your fingers. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You were cute. Mm, like a kitten."

You pop your head out from under the covers. "Stop bringing it up!"

But it's not like you're actually angry and you use this opportunity to take a closer look at him. His face is relaxed and his expressions are open; whatever haunted him yesterday seems to be really gone now and his eyes are serene as he gives you a helpless smile.

"Alright, I'll stop teasing you." Xu Mo bends down to kiss your forehead. "Freshen up and come into the kitchen. Didn't you want to make a cake today?"

The distraction works instantly and you ask excitedly, "We have all the ingredients?"

He hums in affirmation and starts to take off his robe to put on a turtleneck sweater, but a strangled noise escapes your mouth when you see all the scratches on his back. Xu Mo glances over his shoulder at you, giving you a curious look, before comprehension dawns on his face and a smile curls on the corner of his lips, "Like I said, you were as cute as a kitten."

You cover your face and sink into the covers again. You feel him pat your leg, but you refuse to move and it's only after you hear him exit the bedroom and head into the kitchen that you dare to raise your head and leave the bed to wash up.

~~~

By the time you make your way to the kitchen, Xu Mo has already set out the ingredients needed to bake a cake and done preliminary preparations. You can't help but pause in the doorway and take in the sight of him though.

He's looking over a recipe on the tablet he placed on the counter and as the afternoon sunlight pours in through the wide windows, giving his white turtleneck a golden sheen, it catches on the dust motes in the air, filling the space with little glimmers. They contrast sharply with his ink-black hair, as if something celestial has spilled onto him, and with the warm light softening the graceful lines of his face you feel like you're seeing something not of this world.

For a second, you're afraid any noise you make will shatter this illusion and the immortal who has descended into your home will disappear.

"Are you planning to watch me do everything?"

Xu Mo's calm voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you see that he's looking over at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, the original cake's fate was because of you..." you joke as you walk over to lean against him, reassuring yourself with his solidity, and take a look at the recipe. "By the way, what happened to it?"

"I'm afraid it was unsalvageable." He accepts your weight naturally and shifts his position so that you're more comfortably pressed against his chest rather than his arm. "I believe today is my birthday though?"

"So you think you should get a free pass?"

"Isn't that the case?" He tilts his head down and his breath caresses your ear.

You clear your throat and fight to keep the laughter out of your words. "I guess we can split the work 50/50 then."

"Thank you for your lenience." You hear the smile in his voice. "Why don't we get started then."

The two of you enter an easy rhythm, pre-heating the oven, mixing the dry ingredients, and mixing the wet ingredients. Occasionally, either you or he will read out the next steps for the other person.

Soon enough, the cake enters the oven and you both switch over to making the frosting. It doesn't escape your attention that there's a variety of food coloring you're sure the kitchen didn't have before though, meaning he must have gone out in the morning to get these. You carefully make a few different shades of colors, already having a general idea about how you wanted to decorate his cake, but you still ask Xu Mo for his opinion on each color. However, he just leaves the ultimate decision to you.

Finally satisfied with everything you've prepared to decorate the cake when it's finished baking, you wipe the back of your hand across your forehead. Even though it's the end of autumn and the start of winter, the temperature in the house is warm and with the two of you in the kitchen, as well as the oven being on, it's actually a bit hot.

You turn to Xu Mo to ask him what he wants to do to pass the time until the cake is finished only to find that he's already looking at you, lips twitching.

"What? What is it?" You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously.

"Silly girl, you got frosting on yourself." He reaches out and uses the pad of his thumb to wipe at your forehead before showing you the purple frosting on it.

You make a startled noise and look at the back of your hand. It's only now that you remember you were testing different shades of purple on your hand because you couldn't decide on one.

Hearing him actually start to chuckle as he turns towards the sink, probably to wash his hand and grab a paper towel for you, you're struck with a mischievous urge and your hand shoots out. Xu Mo doesn't even flinch as you smear a streak of purple cream across his cheekbone though.

You giggle at your handiwork. "That's what you get for laughing at me."

But when he turns to stare at you in silence, you actually start to worry at having taken too much liberty with him. Maybe playing with food wasn't such a good idea. You open your mouth to apologize, only to shriek when he grabs you and rubs his cheek against yours, spreading the cream back to you.

He has an arm around your waist and a hand at the back of your head to prevent you from pulling away, but before long he stops smearing the cream on you and raises his head to press his forehead to yours. He tilts his head a little, touching the tip of his nose to yours and brushing his eyelashes against your skin, kissing you in every way but with his lips.

"I love you."

There's nothing special in his voice. No emphasis. No emotional intensity. It's just said between one breath and the next, as if it is something that is always hovering between the both of you and only now, through the power of words, has it been materialized into the open and given form.

"Mm, I love you too," you reply.

"Say it again." You feel his lips curve into a smile.

You blink with surprise at his request but answer it easily enough, "I love you."

"I love you as well," he replies immediately, except this time there's a tenderness that permeates every one of his words. "Again."

You hesitate, feeling that he's up to something, but he just brushes your noses together again and his lips skim yours as he breathes out, "I love you."

"I love you too," you unconsciously lower your voice to match his.

In this quiet kitchen, with the sunlight streaming in and creating a golden glow at the edge of your vision that isn't filled with Xu Mo, the world feels like it's shrunk to this tiny space between you two. Even breathing seems too loud for this moment.

"Again," he requests.

Your cheeks start to heat up as each repetition seems to add more weight to the words and you barely manage to whisper out an audible "I love you".

"And I love you."

The hand at the back of your head returns to cup your cheek and your eyes flutter shut as he touches his lips softly to yours. You feel him open his mouth, as if he's about to ask you to say these words again, but the ding of the oven interrupts him and shatters the atmosphere.

You jerk back at the loud noise and clear your throat in embarrassment. He sees your flustered appearance and smiles in resignation before turning to bring the cake out of the oven.

While he does this, you clean up the frosting on yourself at the sink and also dampen a paper towel so that, after Xu Mo sets down the cake on the counter to cool, you can reach up and clean the streaks of cream on his cheek. He bends down to make it easier for you to reach him and leans into your touch, closing his eyes and raising a hand to encircle your wrist.

Seeing this rare look of peace and defenselessnesss on his face, you can't resist sneaking a peck on his cheek along with a quick "I love you" after you wipe his face.

You spin around before he can open his eyes and busy yourself with grabbing the frosting to decorate the cake. Xu Mo laughs softly from behind you and then presses himself against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist, but he's content to leave the decorating to you and simply rests his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

The cake is decorated in short order (and if you were going off of your memories of the cake you ordered from the bakery, well, that's your secret) and you present it to Xu Mo. "Ta-dah! What do you think?"

He hums contemplatively and the sound reverberates beside your ear, "Unique and it looks delicious."

"Are you making fun of my drawing skills?" You nudge him in mock outrage.

"Not at all. It's unique because you drew it with your own colors."

Your ears redden at the sincerity in his voice and you distract yourself by grabbing a fork and using it to split a small section of the cake off before you scoop it up and hold it out to Xu Mo. "Here, as the birthday boy, you get the first bite."

He accepts the forkful that you feed him.

"Happy birthday, Xu Mo," you say, beaming at him, and then you ask, "How does it taste?"

The only warning you get is the mischievous glimmer in his eyes seconds before he leans over and kisses you.

This year's cake is sweeter than any other cake you've eaten.

[deja-you]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves

t. jefferson x reader

summary: you tell yourself lies because you know the truth would crush you.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: somewhat smut (but like, not really, more like a heavy make out sesh) and lots of angst. this is like 60% angst even though it’s really 100% angst.

masterlist

You don’t even think about him anymore.

The scalding hot tea cup in your hand could’ve burned off your finger points to the point where you wouldn’t be able to be identified anymore and you wouldn’t even notice. The cool feeling of sheets against your skin. The vibrations from music that’s playing too loudly. The barrage of water droplets in the shower. You couldn’t feel anything anymore, and there was a time where you would feel everything to its fullest extent. 

Maybe you couldn’t feel anything anymore because you could still feel his touch on your skin. That was too overwhelming, wasn’t it?

People said that the first thing you forget about a person is their voice. But you could remember Thomas’s voice all too well. You could remember the sound of his laugh when you told a joke that you knew wasn’t that funny. You’d never forget how your name sounded on his voice in between kisses. 

It wasn’t likely you would stop thinking about what he looked like, either. No, he was just too memorable that way. Bright eyes and wide grin. You forced yourself to stop thinking about him before you fell in love all over again. 

At times like this, you’d stop thinking about the sunshine he created and you would remember the storms. The terrible, horrible storms that washed up in faded photos months later. Tornadoes that ripped through your soul and left you with broken pieces to put back together. Wild fires that made you feel more alive than you had before, but left you with a charred core and third-degree burns. 

Even after living through the apocalypse, you knew you’d do it all again if you had the chance.

You don’t think about that evening in his kitchen.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he mumbled in between kisses. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Thomas could feel the vibrations of your laugh when he placed kisses upon your neck. “Does that line ever work?”

“You telling me it’s not workin’ on you, sweetheart?” The satin of your dress began riding up your thighs as Thomas’s hands travelled further up your legs. The hickey he was currently sucking onto your neck made you lose any ability to speak.

Thomas pulled away just long enough to shrug off his jacket, and then his lips were back on yours, his thumbs sliding the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders. He gently pushed you back against the cool marble of his kitchen counter. Thomas pulled your hips against his.

You gasped his name in between kisses. “Thomas, you don’t want to... you don’t... you don’t want to move to the bedroom?”

“Sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss along your collarbone between every word. “I. Want. You. Right. Here.”

You groaned when you felt his lips leave your skin and cracked open one eye at a time. Thomas stood over you, his hands on either side of your head. You tilted your head to the side.

“What is it?”

He drew his bottom lip into his mouth and shook his head. “Nothin’. Just admiring the view.” 

You smacked his chest and rolled your eyes. “Put those lips to better use.”

Thomas did, and you couldn’t help thinking this is going to ruin me. I want it to.

You don’t miss those weekends when you’d visit his family.

“Of course you’re good with children, too,” you rolled your eyes. 

Thomas briefly looked up from his two-year-old niece he was playing with. “S’that a problem, sweetheart? I read somewhere that girls find guys who are good with kids attractive. I hired this child actor just to impress you.”

You laughed through your nose and shook your head. “You know what? I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“You know I’d do anything to impress you,” he said with a lopsided grin. Thomas turned back to his niece and waved a rattle in the air above her, making her giggle loudly. 

“Is there anything you’re not good at?” You leaned against a wall and took a second to appreciate just how perfect this moment felt. 

“M’not very good at Pretty, Pretty Princess.” He admitted with a shrug. “You always seem to get all your jewelry pieces and the tiara before I can. I don’t get that.”

“It’s a luck game, Thomas.” These were the days where you couldn’t stop smiling.

“Still think it’s rigged,” he mumbled under his breath. “I think we should play again. I have a new strategy that I think will get me that tiara this time.”

You hummed softly. “Maybe after lunch. And speaking of lunch, I should go help Lucy out. Set the table at the very least.”

Thomas glanced up at you and furrowed his brows. “Now don’t go and be too helpful. I swear my sisters already like you more than me. M’afraid they’re going to try and replace me.”

“Can you blame them?” You teased. 

He laughed and picked up his niece, holding her closely to his chest. Thomas walked over to you and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“No, I can’t. You’re perfect, sweetheart.”

And you’ve kept your distance since the breakup.

Once more you feel his arm laid around your waist like a laurel wreath or the best of your plans that had gone awry. 

If it wasn’t for the cool air drafting through the cracked open window, the discarded tie on the hardwood floor, and the steady breathing of his body beside you, you would’ve thought you were dreaming. Well, it was less of a dream and more of a nightmare that had been haunting you for months. 

Thomas shifted his weight on the bed, alerting you to his state of consciousness. You shut your eyes quickly, hoping he’d believe you were still asleep. It would be easier if he just left without saying anything. You could both pretend like this relapse had never happened. 

One hand gripping your waist, Thomas leaned forward and pressed his lips against your skin. 

He left kisses against your neck like he wanted to leave you with something more to remember him by than just the scars on your heart.

You kept your eyes closed when you felt his weight leave the bed. You kept your eyes closed when you heard him picking up his scattered clothes from around the room. You kept your eyes closed when you knew he was pausing in the doorframe of your bedroom, watching you “sleep” and wondering what things could’ve been like if he hadn’t messed up. 

It was only when you heard the front door of your apartment shut behind him that you opened your eyes.

Immediately, you wished you had kept them shut. The empty bed was an open wound that had never scabbed over. There was no trace of Thomas left in your apartment. No proof that all the events that had occurred the previous night hadn’t just been in your head. 

You didn’t cry. You would’ve welcomed tears with open arms at this point. Anything would be better with the cloying taste of emptiness that was left in the back of your throat. 

You don’t replay scenes from that night again and again and again and again in your head.

“We’ve both made mistakes, sweetheart.” The enchanting nickname you used to love was being twisted against you, and you hated it.

“Don’t compare me to you. I’m nothing like you.” The words were spat out like venom. 

“It takes two people to destroy a relationship!” Thomas’s voice raised a few levels.

“But I never slept with your secretary!”

The words struck him like a knife to the heart. Thomas hadn’t realized you had known about his affair. Of course you did. It all made sense. The guilt that had been building up for weeks now finally reached a breaking point when he saw the hurt look on your face.

Any anger Thomas held dissipated, and you turned away from him, not wanting him to see just how much he had broken you. Something in you wanted him to yell at you, tell you you were wrong. You knew the truth, but you desperately wanted Thomas to lie to you one more time. It could be good like that. It would be better. 

The denial that you prayed for never came. 

“Could you forgive me?” The words were nearly silent, like anything louder would break the fragile tension between the two of you. 

“I would do anything you wanted me to do. Of course I could forgive you. Just don’t ask me too. Because forgiving you would absolutely destroy me.” You told the truth and decided then and there that you didn’t like telling the truth. 

“So we’re over, then?” Thomas leaned against the counter, and you didn’t know this at the time, but if he hadn’t leaned against the counter, he was sure he would’ve collapsed. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.” You wiped at the tears on your cheeks and hoped he couldn’t hear them in your voice.

“I guess this is goodbye.”

You never loved him.

Not when you came home after a long day to find him playing the violin. Especially not then. 

Thomas didn’t even notice when you walked into the apartment. He got like that when he was playing. He wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the sound of horsehair on strings, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You set down your bag on the kitchen counter and pulled out a chair. After dealing with your coworkers who were incapable of the smallest tasks, you were ready to collapse. Thomas’s music had a lulling affect, and you had almost fallen asleep right there in the kitchen when he stopped playing.

“Hey, sweetheart. I didn’t hear you come in,” Thomas said as he began putting his violin back in its case. “How was your day?”

You slowly opened one eye to see his smiling face. “It was good.”

It wasn’t completely a lie. When you would look back on that day, all you could remember was the evening you spent with Thomas. The sound of his violin playing some vaguely familiar tune. Your loud laughter that must’ve woken the neighbors. The food Thomas claimed to be “fine cuisine.”

“It’s delicious, sweetheart, don’t even try denying it,” Thomas pressed a few buttons on the microwave and it whirred to life.

“Thomas, it came out of a cardboard box, and the ‘cheese’ was a powder!”

“It’s an easy and efficient meal, if anything, I think that adds to the appeal.” Thomas may have been a star in the courtroom, but you were struggling to see how he ever won any arguments.

“I know you can cook. And I mean real food. Remember that time you made Italian for our anniversary?” You reminded him. 

“That was a good meal, wasn’t it?” Thomas mused. 

You nodded. “You made the pasta by hand. I think that was the best dinner I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I’m about to top that dinner.” Thomas pulled the hot bowl of macaroni out of the microwave and set it in front of you.

You looked down at the bowl, then back at Thomas. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“M’not.” He shook his head and handed you a spoon. Thomas leaned forward on the counter, waiting for your review to come in. 

You laughed and shook your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

What you meant by that was “I love you,” and Thomas knew.

You don’t love him.

If you had a nickel for every time you told yourself that, you would’ve been able to move out of this apartment that still felt like him. You’d have enough money to move out of this godforsaken city that always felt like him. 

He had left his mark on everything in your life. You couldn’t escape him. The coffeeshop near your work reminded you of him. Your favorite song on the radio reminded you of him. Board games reminded you of him. Your own kitchen reminded you of him. And every god damn box of Kraft macaroni and cheese reminded you of him. 

Even in a city with a population of 8.3 million people, you couldn’t avoid him. Occasionally, you’d see Thomas walking into a grocery store while you were on your way to the dry cleaners. All the glue, tape, and bandages you had used to put your heart together again would fall apart. 

You told yourself that one day you would get better. That one day you wouldn’t fall apart at the mere sight of him. Who knows, maybe one day you’d be able to hold an entire conversation with him.

Thomas wasn’t a mess like you were, even though you hoped he would be. From what you’d heard from mutual friends, he seemed to be handling the break-up well. The knowledge that he was fine when you weren’t was another stab in the heart. 

But maybe those same friends told Thomas that you were doing fine as well. On all accounts, you looked like you were doing fine. It was only when you locked yourself away in your Thomas-free bedroom that you could really be honest with yourself.

And if tissues filled your room, who would know? You were the only one who had to face the unmade bedsheets and piles of unfolded laundry. If anyone asked, you kept your room spotless. 

And if you asked yourself, you would say that you didn’t love him anymore. 

The lies we tell ourselves.

[litwitlady]

Pandemic (3/?)

Read the Board Game Verse on AO3.

‘You cooked Tuesday night. You didn’t need to cook again.’ Alex steps onto his patio, walking over to where Michael already has his grill heating up. ‘I could have picked up something on the way home.’

Michael shrugs and chomps at Alex playfully with a set of tongs. ‘I was in the mood for jalapeno burgers and no one makes good jalapeno burgers in this one horse town.’

‘How can I help?’

‘Go get rid of the uniform and teach me how to play the game while I watch over the food.’ He sets several corn cobs on the grill and shoos Alex towards the front door.

Alex disappears into his bedroom and sheds his heavy uniform as quickly as he can. He pulls on sweatpants, sneakers, and an old Cranberries t-shirt he’s pretty sure he stole from the Ortecho household at some point.

Walking to his window, he peeks through his blinds at Michael, appreciating the view without any fear of getting caught. There’s nothing special about the sight. Not really. Any other person on the planet might look out his window and see nothing more than an oil-stained cowboy hunched over a grill. But Alex sees almost twelve years of his life - the good, the bad, the best and worst moments.

Staring at Michael is like having his entire life flash before his eyes. Only this isn’t the moment right before his death. This is the moment right before he starts living again.

Grabbing the game, Alex heads back outside with a couple of beers. He hands one to Michael and sets his aside so he can retrieve the instructions from inside the box. ‘It’s been awhile since I played. Last time was with Liz and Maria way back before you two started dating.’

Michael drags his eyes to Alex, but Alex is frowning down at the instructions manual. He decides nothing was meant by the comment and returns his gaze to the grill. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’ It’s barely a mumble and Michael’s pretty sure Alex is only half paying attention.

‘Why’d you break up with Forrest?’ He flips the burgers and waits.

Alex glances up at him. ‘We talked about this already. I’ll tell you as soon as you tell me why you broke up with Maria. Fair is fair.’ His eyes fall back down to the instructions. ‘The general idea of this game is to stop four pandemics.’

‘Four? Seems excessive.’ He sips at his beer and settles a hip next to where Alex is sitting on top of his patio table. ‘Maria broke up with me because she thought there might be someone else who could make me happier.’

Alex drops the manual back into the box, game entirely forgotten. ‘Someone else like who?’

Michael makes a thoughtful humming noise in the back of his throat and shrugs nonchalantly. ‘Probably someone with a really weird board game obsession.’

‘No.’ Alex shakes his head hard. ‘That can’t be why she broke up with you. I’ll fix it.’ He’s already pulling up Maria’s number on his phone.

Michael snatches his phone out of his hand. ‘Stop, Alex. She’s not wrong.’

‘She is wrong, Michael. Maria is sunshine and rainbows. I’m broken dreams and stolen hope. You said so yourself - I’ve hurt you. She would never hurt you.’

Michael watches Alex’s chest start to heave and his eyes blink too rapidly. ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where did all this come from?’

‘The food’s going to burn. I’ll go get the buns.’ He slides carefully off the table and is gone before Michael can stop him, shutting the door with a finality that echoes through Michael’s chest.

He takes the burgers and the corn off the grill, setting them aside to cool. Picking up the game instructions, he pretends to read through them while staring anxiously at the door waiting for Alex to return. He waits a long time, but eventually, the door reopens and Alex steps back onto the patio with the buns in his hands. The tightness in Michael’s chest subsides.

They fix their plates silently and sit next to each other at the table. Michael waits until Alex takes the first bite to begin eating himself. ‘These are really good. Everything you cook is always really good.’ He half-smiles at Michael as he takes another bite. ‘Sorry for being weird.’

‘It’s okay. Want to maybe explain it to me better?’ Michael leans back in his chair and watches Alex thoughtfully.

His answer is quiet when it comes. ‘I can’t be Maria.’

‘Baby, I don’t need you to be Maria. I just need you to run a little less and talk a little more. That’s all.’ Michael reaches out to give his knee a gentle squeeze.

Alex nods softly. ‘You’re such a good man, Michael. You deserve to be with someone just as good. What if that’s not me?’

Michael honestly doesn’t know what to say to that. So he relies on his sarcasm to ease the tension. ‘Well, it’s a good thing we’re only friends then, huh?’ When Alex doesn’t smile, he hangs his head and sighs. ‘What I deserve is to be with the one human on this godforsaken planet that I love the way that I love you.’ He finishes his beer and pushes his plate aside. ‘Why did Forrest break up with you?’

‘Because I’m still in love with you and did a pisspoor job hiding it.’ Alex gulps at his beer. ‘We’re really bad at this friends thing. I have a feeling I’m going to keep saying that.’

Michael grins at him and motions towards the game. ‘Teach me how to play.’

They play past the sun going down and the stars blinking awake. Each and every play through they cure all four pandemics, and Michael enjoys the way Alex grows more and more animated with every perfectly strategized move. After their fourth win, Alex sits back in his chair and sighs happily. ‘I think that’s probably good enough for one night.’ He checks the clock on his phone’s display. ‘Oh shit, Guerin. Didn’t mean to keep you here until 3 am.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Letting you boss me around all night was the most fun I’ve had in awhile. What’s next week?’ He knocks his knee against Alex’s and raises an eyebrow in question.

‘Something simple. Maybe Operation?’ He smiles at Michael and takes one last, long pull of his beer. ‘Let ourselves be kids again. But with happier endings this time.’

Michael nods and stands, stretching his hands over his head and yawning loudly. ‘I’ve got an early morning tow. I’ll bring by coffee and donuts on my way back to the junkyard.’

Alex shakes his head as they walk slowly to Michael’s truck. ‘I’ve got a better idea. You take care of your tow. I’ll have coffee and an honest, heartfelt attempt at your favorite omelet waiting for you when you get done. As long as you promise not to laugh if it all goes horribly awry.’

‘I can live with that.’ He plants a kiss on Alex’s forehead and climbs into his truck. Alex watches him pull out onto the road and doesn’t turn away until his taillights are nothing but a distant blur.

He’s too wired to sleep so he sits back down at the patio table and wonders what it’ll be like when Michael stops leaving at the end of the night. And he doesn’t stop wondering until the sun warms the stars back to sleep.

Tags: @adiwriting

[tomorrowedblog]

Friday Releases for September 10

Friday is the busiest day of the week for new releases, so we've decided to collect them all in one place. Friday Releases for September 10 include The Card Counter, Kate, The Melodic Blue, and more.

The Card Counter

The Card Counter, the new movie from Paul Schrader, is out today.

Redemption is the long game in Paul Schrader’s THE CARD COUNTER. Told with Schrader’s trademark cinematic intensity, the revenge thriller tells the story of an ex-military interrogator turned gambler haunted by the ghosts of his past decisions, and features riveting performances from stars Oscar Isaac, Tiffany Haddish, Tye Sheridan and Willem Dafoe.

Kate

Kate, the new movie from Cedric Nicolas-Troyan, is out today.

After she’s poisoned, a ruthless criminal operative has less than 24 hours to exact revenge on her enemies and in the process forms an unexpected bond with the daughter of one of her past victims.

Queenpins

Queenpins, the new movie from Aron Gaudet and Gita Pullapilly, is out today.

Inspired by a true story, QUEENPINS is an outrageous comedy about a bored and frustrated suburban homemaker, Connie (Kristen Bell) and her best pal JoJo (Kirby Howell-Baptiste), a vlogger with dreams, who turn a hobby into a multi-million dollar counterfeit coupon caper. After firing off a letter to the conglomerate behind a box of cereal gone stale, and receiving an apology along with dozens of freebies, the duo hatch an illegal coupon club scheme that scams millions from mega-corporations and delivers deals to legions of fellow coupon clippers. On the trail to total coupon dominance, a hapless Loss Prevention Officer (Paul Walter Hauser) from the local supermarket chain joins forces with a determined U.S. Postal Inspector (Vince Vaughn) in hot pursuit of these newly-minted “Queenpins” of pink collar crime.

Malignant

Malignant, the new movie from James Wan, is out today.

“Malignant” is the latest creation from “Conjuring” universe architect James Wan. The film marks director Wan’s return to his roots with this new original horror thriller. In the film, Madison is paralyzed by shocking visions of grisly murders, and her torment worsens as she discovers that these waking dreams are in fact terrifying realities.

Small Engine Repair

Small Engine Repair, the new movie from John Pollono, is out today.

Frank (John Pollono), Swaino (Jon Bernthal) and Packie (Shea Whigham) are lifelong friends who share a love of the Red Sox, rowdy bars and Frank’s teenaged daughter Crystal (Ciara Bravo). But when Frank invites his pals to a whiskey-fueled evening and asks them to do a favor on behalf of the brash young woman they all adore, events spin wildly out of control.

The Voyeurs

The Voyeurs, the new movie from Michael Mohan, is out today.

Pippa and Thomas move into their dream apartment, they notice that their windows look directly into the apartment opposite - inviting them to witness the volatile relationship of the attractive couple across the street. But when they attempt to anonymously intercede in their lives, they unwittingly set in motion a chain of events that will lead to disaster.

Lost In Random

Lost In Random, the new game from Zoink, Thunderful, and Electronic Arts, is out today.

Ruled by a wicked Queen, the kingdom of Random is divided into 6 shadowy realms where life is dictated by a cursed black dice. In this story from the award-winning Swedish game studio Zoink and penned by Eisner Award-winning Adventure Time and Marvel Comics The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl author Ryan North, you'll join Even, a penniless girl who's down on her luck, in a dark quest to save her beloved sister. With her companion Dicey, a small and strange living dice, Even must learn to embrace the chaos of Random, uncovering an age-old tale with a modern message.

Kraken Academy!!

Kraken Academy!!, the new game from Happy Broccoli Games and Fellow Traveller, is out today.

Make friends, free spirits and make sure that the world doesn’t end! Welcome to Kraken Academy, a technicolor fever dream that for legal reasons can only be described as "technically a school." Join forces with a magical kraken to manipulate a time loop and save the world.

WarioWare: Get It Together!

WarioWare: Get It Together!, the new game from Nintendo, is out today.

Wario is back in the world of microgames—literally!

Take on over 200 quick and quirky microgames—lightning-fast minigames filled with frantic fun—solo or with a friend! When his latest harebrained business scheme goes awry, Wario must use his signature style (and smell) to fix it. How? By playing a twisted collection microgames of course! From assembling a robot to pulling out a statue’s armpit hair, the WarioWare: Get It Together! game is a comedic, cooperative microgame mashup.

The Melodic Blue

The Melodic Blue, the new album from Baby Keem, is out today.

Where Have All The Flowers Gone

Where Have All The Flowers Gone, the new album from Deb Never, is out today.

[doomonfilm]

Thoughts : WandaVision [Disney+, Episodes 4-6] (2021)

After a heavily stylized trio of opening episodes, WandaVision has officially put the pedal to the metal with its next trio of episodes.  The connections to the larger MCU have been firmly identified and established, which has generated a mountain of new questions, speculations and assumptions about where WandaVision, and in turn, the MCU as a whole are headed in the next few phases.

Editor’s note : This show is jumping in quality from episode to episode, and based on the response to the last blog entry on WandaVision, I am considering giving the final 3 episodes their own entries.  If the likes on this blog entry surpass those of the previous WandaVision entry, I will do dedicated breakdowns of the final 3 episodes on the date that they are released.

THE STORY THUS FAR

Episode 04 : We Interrupt This Program In the wake of The Blip, Monica Rambeau (Teyonah Parris) is returned to the hospital where she once sat by the side of her mother’s side.  Upon returning to reality, Monica learns that Maria Rambeau has passed away due to cancer while she was gone, which devastates her to no end.  Monica returns to S.W.O.R.D. in hopes of finding peace, but she is immediately thrust into the mysteries surround the town of Westview, New Jersey.  CIA Agent Jimmy Woo (Randall Park) meets Monica outside of Westview, where he clues her in on his missing witness that was once in the town, as well as the anomaly of amnesia that has taken over those in the surrounding communities.  Monica and Jimmy approach the city only to discover it is covered by a mysterious invisible barrier, and while inspecting the barrier, Monica is pulled in.  S.H.I.E.L.D. calls in the Army, the FBI and a number of specialists in various fields, including astrophysicist Dr. Darcy Lewis (Kat Dennings), who stumbles upon a mysterious signal that allows those outside the barrier to view the events within in a sitcom format.

Episode 05 : On a Very Special Episode... Wanda and Vision are doing their best to adjust to raising Tommy (Baylen Bielitz) and Billy (Gavin Borders), but find themselves overwhelmed until an overly enthusiastic Agnes steps in to help.  While Vision questions Wanda on the recent strangeness, Tommy (Jett Klyne) and Billy (Julian Hilliard) suddenly jump to the age of ten, further confounding Vision.  Outside of The Hex (a nickname for the anomaly surrounding Westview coined by Darcy), S.H.I.E.L.D. continues to gather intel and ramp up efforts to collect information in the wake of Monica Rambeau’s return, but after an attempt to communicate to Wanda directly goes awry, Wanda presents herself directly to  S.H.I.E.L.D. with a warning to stay away.  Vision has an encounter with Norm (Asif Ali) that causes him to reach his breaking point, and while he is confronting Wanda later that night, a knock on the door reveals that Pietro (Evan Peters) has somehow returned... but something is different about him...

Episode 06 : All-New Halloween Spooktacular! It’s Halloween in Westview, and the Maximoff family is preparing for a night of fun and adventure.  Tommy is excited for all of the candy he will be collecting, but Billy finds himself concerned with a number of issues, chiefly the surprise emergence of Pietro onto the scene and the troubled waters flowing between Wanda and Vision.  Wanda attempts to gather the family for their night out, but Vision states that he has obligations with the Neighbor Watch, which disappoints Wanda.  Pietro offers to step in, and his mischievous influence leads to Tommy and Billy’s discovery of their powers.  Outside of The Hex, tensions are running deeper between Agent Rambeau and Agent Hayward, and as a result, Hayward expels Rambeau, Jimmy and Darcy from the camp.  The trio manages to sneak back in, and while Rambeau and Jimmy head to meet a colleague of Rambeau’s who can assist them in entering The Hex, Darcy breaks into Hayward’s digital files, uncovering a goldmine of shadiness.  Vision, using his Neighborhood Watch story as cover, attempts to investigate the outskirts of Westview, but after breaking through the outer wall of The Hex he finds himself being literally torn apart as he is pulled back in, all in front of the eyes of Hayward and his team.  Billy picks up on what is happening, and in a fit of desperation, Wanda makes a move to save Vision that drastically alters the entire scenario surrounding The Hex.

ADDITIONAL RESOURCES

Beyond The Trailer YouTube Channel

New Rockstars YouTube Channel

I was unfamiliar with Beyond The Trailer prior to Episode 03 of WandaVision, but the discovery of the channel has provided me with sharp insight, as well as a bit of humor, and Grace Randolph is the only creator to my knowledge that is providing live reactions on episode premier dates..  New Rockstars and Erik Voss continue to mostly knock their analysis of the show out the box.  Oddly enough, however, I have found myself pulling back from the YouTube camps of speculation as the series progresses.  This is not a shot at any of the YouTubers that are dedicating their time and attention to the show, but rather a testament to the skill with which WandaVision was crafted, and the compelling mystique it has generated on its own.

THOUGHTS ON THE SHOW In all honesty, I have no idea how this overarching story of Wanda, Vision, the town of Westview, Monica Rambeau and S.W.O.R.D. are going to resolve themselves, and I couldn’t love that fact any more than I already do.  The amount of detail infused into this show is insane : the way that the aspect ratio continues to shift depending on the “reality” we are viewing is a stroke of simple genius, the use of CMBR waves creating a television signal is a very subtle subtextual reminder of what it was like to take in entertainment prior to the advent of streaming, and the amount of Easter Eggs being dropped would put the Easter Bunny to shame.  Just when we think we’ve got things figured out enough to hazard a guess, we are thrown monumental curveballs, and the whole while characters like Darcy, Jimmy Woo and Pietro are asking the same questions we are as viewers.

Wanda Maximoff had been using a very restrained, comical version of her powers up until this group of episodes, but now that her Chaos Magic has revealed itself, many are speculating that she may actually be the antagonist of the series, rather than the protagonist.  It is clear that Wanda is controlling the majority of the Westview anomaly with her powers, but certain occurrences such as the birth of Tommy and Billy, their sudden aging or the appearance of the X-Men Quicksilver denotes that someone else is pulling strings that impact Wanda’s reality as well.  It is also crystal clear that her anger and emotions are being held at bay by the thinnest of barriers, and with each step closer to her losing control, the real world ramifications get murkier and more dangerous.

What on Earth is going on with Vision?  We are given a brief glimpse of the actual “reality” behind Wanda’s created “reality”, and the most jaw-dropping revelation up to that time is the seemingly dead Vision interacting with Wanda in her created world.  He is no longer in possession of the Mind Stone, and the infamous damage to his head (courtesy of Thanos) is still very much present.  S.W.O.R.D. acting Director Tyler Hayward decided to reveal that S.W.O.R.D. was storing Vision’s corpse at the time that Wanda supposedly broke in and stole it, but even the validity of that is questionable considering how unlikeable Hayward chooses to be.  I am also curious if the reason that everyone acts so cagey around Vision is because they see him as a corpse.  Vision also seems to have holes in his overall awareness, including no knowledge of the Avengers, which makes you wonder who he truly is on top of what is going on with him.

Monica Rambeau seems to be holding back from exerting control over the situation at hand, especially in light of the fact that she’s the only person who has been on both sides of The Hex and has flatly declared that Wanda is the one in control.  There is also an intentional glossing over of key things revolving around Monica that continue to stand out, chiefly among them being her lab readings that appear to have been whited out by a bright light, and the caginess exhibited whenever any references to Captain Marvel are made.  She is also clearly a thorn in the side of S.W.O.R.D., and in spite of her connection to S.W.O.R.D. originator Maria Rambeau, it is clear that her presence is not welcome in the camp investigating The Hex.

Dr. Darcy Lewis and Jimmy Woo are quickly becoming not only the fan favorites of the show, but the pairing we never knew that we needed.  Darcy’s massive intellect, wealth of knowledge and razor-sharp sarcastic wit pair brilliantly with Woo’s empathic, perceptive abilities and kind-hearted, wholesome nature.  With the mystery falling squarely into their laps, they have become the perfect guides through the madness for curious viewers, as many of their questions and concerns mirror those of the audience.

Pietro Maximoff may be the most intriguing appearance of any character in the MCU due to the possible implications that lie with his emergence.  Is he actually Quicksilver?  The alarms sounded during his appearance, so did he bring himself into The Hex, or was he allowed in by someone?  If he is not the Pietro that we are familiar with, and he is playing games in regards to whether or not he is the real deal, then why does Wanda briefly see him just as dead as she sees Vision?  Many YouTubers are speculating that the progression of decades used by the sitcom format is intentionally mirroring the decade jumps in the latest series of X-Men films, which is possibly causing some sort of fold in space-time that is combining alternate realities... whatever the explanation is for the emergence of the Evan Peters version of Quicksilver, I’ve never seen anything like this in media, and am wholly invested in seeing where this stroke of genius leads us. 

What exactly are Tyler Hayward‘s intentions with Vision, The Hex and Wanda?  Why is he being so cagey with information and so ruthless with his control?  What is his deal in regards to the clear-cut resentment he has for Monica Rambeau and her connections to those with powers, seemingly specifically Carol Danvers?  Is he the true villainous antagonist, or is he just a pawn in a much bigger scheme? 

THE QUESTIONS

- If Evan Peters is now Pietro Maximoff outside of the Fox X-Men franchise, is this the indicator that mutants now exist in the MCU?  Or is this simply a meta-glitch to setup the rumors of similar occurrences that will happen in the upcoming Spider-man film?

- Why is Dottie still not on the board of identified individuals trapped in The Hex?  Even Agnes is on the board, though she does not have a real-life identifier as of yet, which makes her mysterious as well.

- Who are the kids in the commercials, and what is their tie to the mysterious pair that appear in every commercial?

- Is all the talk of S.W.O.R.D.’s astronaut program and specialized aerospace engineers a way to set up the eventual introduction of Reed Richards (and eventually the Fantastic Four) into the MCU?  Is this who Monica and Jimmy Woo are heading to meet in Episode 06?

- Is all of the hexagon imagery a way to establish a motif of evolving DNA?  Does Vision mentioning the Charles Darwin book Descent of Man push this motif into the realms of mutation by way of genetic evolution?

- As Darcy mentions in Episode 06, Monica Rambeau’s two journeys through The Hex have fundamentally changed her down to the molecular level... are we seeing the emergence of Photon, and on a bigger scale, the mode in which Mutants will be created?

- Why is Marvel so good at cliffhanger endings?  The last two episodes, in particular, have made waiting a week for the continuation of the story one of the most difficult things I have ever done.  I’m hard-pressed to think of a show since The Sopranos that has kept me this anxious from week to week in anticipation of what will happen next.

[bnha-almost-a-hero]

now you’ll never leave me

kinktober but it’s no nut november. not like anyone’s going to nut to my shit smut.

day five to eleven of kinktober featuring the CHAD shigaraki, the VIRGIN reader and a whole bunch of kinks to make up for my days of inactivity.

warnings and shizz: smut (minors better stay away), loss of virginity, impreg, unsafe sex, obsessive shigaraki, me writing in the third person for once (it feels like i’m doing it wrong), female reader (i’m sorry), this is FILTH

this is gon’ be wild

prompts ― dress up, virginity, impreg / breeding, loving sex, (light) spit play & food play (i’m so sorry)

character ― tomura shigaraki

Do you ever go into a sexual encounter and think “I have no fucking clue what I am doing”?

Yes?

No?

For ( f/n ) ( l/n ), this was a startling reality―her worst fear realized. She was frankly inexperienced in nearly everything that came with sex and general relationships. For years she’d hung on to the lines “I’m saving it for the right person,” or “I’m focusing more on my studies,” whenever the topic came up in conversation yet, now, she was finally ready.

To say she had everything planned out was an understatement. She’d gotten two bottles of lube―figuring she couldn’t be too sure―a pack of pre-lubricated condoms, a box of premium chocolates, a couple bottles of whiskey and, of course, a schoolgirl costume that she’d ordered from a high-quality sex store. All this for one man...

Tomura Shigaraki.

Her boyfriend of two years.

And one of the most wanted men in Japan.

( f/n ) figured, for their second anniversary, she’d surprise him. As a regular at the hideout, she knew that he and the rest of the League of Villains―excluding Kurogiri―were out on a team reconnaissance mission and would return in the evening. In that time, ( f/n ) had completely overhauled his room.

She knew better not to touch his gaming set-up, lest he freak out on her, so she mostly decorated the area around his bed. A black, gossamer canopy was labouriously set up around the bed; candles filled the air with cinnamon and caramel; and rose petals―rather clichély―littered the carpets leading up to the bed.

Behind the canopy, sat ( f/n ), dressed in the aforementioned form-fitting schoolgirl costume―modelled after the classic seifuku uniforms yet with a few ‘reductions’ to the fabric. A few small candles of incense crackled next to her, lulling her spiking nerves to rest. Letting out a nervous sigh, she closed her      ( e/c ) eyes, reciting the sultry lines she had planned out.

She placed a piece of chocolate into her mouth, humming happily as the sugary treat melted in the warmth of her lips. I can do this, she reassured herself, cracking her knuckles. 

An idle buzz sounded from her phone. Tomura ❤️💕 was calling. ( f/n )’s heart seized up, now worried that something had gone awry during the mission. She immediately snatched up the phone, pressed the ‘accept’ button and pressed the phone to her ear.

“W―What’s wrong?” ( f/n ) asked softly. “Are you okay? Are the others―.”

“I’m fine,” Tomura rasped out, voice slightly muffled as if he were trying to hide his conversation from someone. “The rest of ‘em are okay too... Sadly...”

“Oh,” She chuckled. “Don’t be horrible.”

“I can’t wait to get back to you,” Tomura murmured. “Spending the day with these idiots has fried my brain cells.”

“Oh, well, um, I’ve got a―uh―little surprise for you when you get back, okay?” She smiled. “So hurry back!”

“Sure,” He said then paused for a moment. “Toga says ‘bye-bye’.”

“Aww, tell her I said bye too.” She pulled down her skimpy skirt as she waited for him to come back onto the line. “Bye, Tomu-kun.”

“Bye, Player Two,” Tomura replied before he hung up. ( f/n )’s smile only grew. Tomura probably expected the surprise to be a new game or maybe a new gaming console but what he was getting would be much, much different.

The League of Villains arrived back at half-past seven. ( f/n )’s heart leapt as she heard movement downstairs; disjointed conversations sparking then simmering down; and then finally footsteps climbing up the stairs only accessible through the backroom of the bar and then across onto the floorboards. 

He was here.

The woman shuddered expectantly, letting out a heated breath as her heart thrummed inside her chest. The door cracked open followed by a small gasp.  ( f/n ) breathed in then out before she extended a stocking-clad foot out to spread the gauzy canopy apart.

“Tomu-kun, honey,” She batted her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t fully see her past the beautifully woven layers of butterfly silk. “Come closer, I’ve been waiting~”

Tomura hesitated, stiffening at this unexpected surprise before he stepped forward. He could barely see ( f/n ) through the thin material that had been draped over his modest, black bed but he could see from the rose petals laid out on the floor and the sensual beckoning he’d received that he was finally getting some.

He parted the canopy with both hands and what he saw before him awed him.

His woman, ( f/n ), wearing a tight-fitting sailor-style school uniform with various exaggerated adjustments including a midriff exposing top and a mid-thigh length skirt to make it more appealing to the erotic form. 

She sheepishly grinned at him, reaching forward and dragging him towards her. Adjusting him into a kneeling position, she crawled forward, all the while pulling at his black pants. Their eyes met, blazing fires kindling inside each other. 

“I love you,” She murmured, pressing a kiss to the erection tenting through his dark underwear. “This is for our anniversary.”

And, with that, she tugged down his boxers, taking his erect dick into her soft hand. She leaned down, licking his tip tentatively―savouring the salty, overpowering pre-cum that oozed from his bubbling urethra. For a few moments, she tip-toed between enjoying the taste or tolerating it before deciding it wasn’t half bad and leaning her head down further to fully swallow his cock.

His veins throbbed inside of her luscious mouth. A moan left his parted lips as he rocked back and forth, inadvertently fucking the woman’s throat with his slow movements. Gagging slightly but not deterred, ( f/n ) bobbed her head up and down, swaying her hips from side-to-side and staring up at him with a look that positively screamed: “Fuck my throat up, I can take it~”

( f/n ) licked from the tip downwards as far as she could manage, humming and moaning in bliss as she closed her eyes and leaned back. By this point, Tomura had fully grasped his role in all this, placing four fingers on the back of her head and pushing her forward gently.

A chorus of moans and muffled hums filled the room, accompanied by a riveting melody of gags and the wet ‘slap, slap, slap’ of Shigaraki’s balls against ( f/n )’s chin. Drool poured from her lips, splashing down onto Tomura’s thighs and onto the luscious duvet that had been laid out earlier. 

This sensation was so strange... Her core burned expectantly, already soaking wet before Tomura had arrived. Every so often, ( f/n )’s luscious, lower lips would spasm and throb, engorging with steaming blood as it begged her to indulge in her reproductive instincts...

We can have a child, her mind prompted her, I can take care while he’s off on League business. 

Their age nor their financial stability didn’t cross their minds as they became willing victims to the whims of their primal, vestigial urges. Both pairs of eyes met; dull electricity sparking behind their dilated pupils. Tomura pulled back out of her warm, drooling mouth.

“We can―.” He began, but paused, almost unsure of himself.

“Have a baby.” She smiled up at him. “But, first, let’s try something...”

( f/n ) ducked under the canopy, stumbling towards the sleek vanity adorned with various bottles of expensive exotic liquors and chocolates. Forgoing the liquor, she grabbed a box of premium chocolates before crawling back into bed. Placing it off to the side, for now, she looked up at her lover through hazy, full eyelashes.

She reached a hand up to tug at the ribbon of her seifuku, smiling up at Tomura as she pretended to fumble with the tie. She pouted, “I―I don’t suppose you could help me, Tomu―kun?”

He stared at her, jaw open, before closing it and tugging her closer, whispering in her ear, “That’s Player One to you.” 

“Of course, Tomu-kun, you’ll always be my Player One.”

He hummed at her approvingly, placing a hesitant hand on her top, crumbling it to dust. ( f/n ) let out an airy sigh as the dust slid down her body, caressing her silky skin as it weaved its way down to her skirt. She lied back onto the bed, grabbing the delicately-wrapped box of chocolates and handing it to Tomura. He grasped it with two fingers.

“It’s always been a fantasy of mine,” She began, biting her lip idly. “To have you lick chocolate off of my―.” Despite trying to stay in character as a self-confident temptress, she could hardly muster the courage to say that word. So, instead, she motioned to her puffy, hardened nipples. “Please―. Please indulge me for today...”

It wasn’t as if he needed convincing. Before she had even finished speaking, he had already thrown the top of the chocolate box off onto the floor and was plucking them out one by one to place onto her nipples; trailing them down further down her chest, down to her stomach and navel, finally ending at the apex of her thighs once he ran out of chocolates.

“Are you―?” He asked, staring up at her with an insecure look―as if he was certain she was making a mistake.

( f/n ) grasped his cheek as he lay over her, rubbing the blushing flesh under her thumb. “I’ve never been more certain.” And that wasn’t the self-confident temptress she was playing, that was all her speaking. She truly wanted this. The proof was her sopping, frustrated cunt. “Take me, my Player One.”

Tomura smiled at that, placing a hand on her skirt, deteriorating it into cold dust. His last barrier from fully taking her was the silken underwear she had chosen to wear, stained through with her slick. He pressed his weeping tip to her spasming cunt, rubbing his urethra up against her clit. 

“Ahhh~” She moaned out, closing her eyes as she felt her body heat up. “Fu―Fuck, Tomu-kun―. Player One―. My King―. Take me, take me!”

He pushed into her slowly, careful of her hymen. Yet, unlike all the horror stories she had read online, there was no pain. Just a slight sting and then nothing but pleasure. Tomura’s index reached down to play with her throbbing clit, rolling it around in figure eights as she sobbed with joy at the overstimulation. 

She moaned loudly, not realizing in the haze of sex-filled euphoria that there were people downstairs, throwing her head back as she beckoned Tomura downwards with her hand. He leaned down and, with melting chocolates pressed between them, kissed him with as much fervour and passion as she could muster. He rocked inside of her, thrusting his tongue further into her mouth. 

They separated only so she could speak, “I was―ah~. I was seri―serious about that baby thing...” She rasped breathlessly, as she felt the chocolate melt and fuse to her skin. “I’ll be a good, hah~. I’ll be a good mom and you―you―you can continue―.”

“A Shimura,” He murmured, licking at your chocolate-covered skin. She rasped, confused as to what a ‘Shimura’ was. His name was Tomura Shigaraki, right? Right? “I’ll put a Shimura in you. An―And you’ll carry it yourself... It’ll be a sign of our love, w―won’t it? And then―And then you’ll never leave me, right?”

( f/n ) nodded enthusiastically, finding she could barely formulate words as he thrust into her, continuously battering her fleshy G-spot repeatedly. Moans and incoherent mutterings as to how she’d be a ‘good mommy’ were all that escaped her silken lips as her eyes flickered up into her skull. 

“’M gonna cum,” He murmured, finishing lathering her once chocolate-covered stomach with his spit. “I’ll knock you up right here, right now.”

“Pl―Please!” She managed to stutter out, ecstatic at the thought of her swelling stomach; her puffy, milky tits; the little waddle she’d be reduced to due to the size of her pregnant belly. “Impregnate me, Player One!”

With a final buck of his hips, he spurted his hot, thick cum into her fertile womb, laying there until he was sure he’d poured everything he had into her before collapsing to the side. He hummed, tracing circles into her stomach, “And now you’ll never leave me.”

[ryanmeft]

Ryan’s Favorite Films of 2019

A stuttering detective,

A top hat-wearing vamp

A forced-perspective war,

A bit of Blaxploitation camp

Prisoners on a space ship

Having sex with bears

A writer goes remembering

Whenever his pain flares

  A prancing, dancing Hitler

A gambler high on strife

Here will go cavorting with

A mom who becomes a wife

A family plot with many threads

Three men against their own

A stuntman and his actor

A mobster now quite alone

Doubles under the earth

Two men in a tall house

Are here to watch a woman who

Is battling with her spouse

A family’s plans for their strong son

Go awry one night

A man rejects his country

Which is spoiling for a fight

 A house built by his grandpa

(Maybe; we’re not sure)

Looks out upon three prisoners

Whose passions are a lure

  All these are on my list this year

It’s longer than before

Because picking only ten this time

Was too great of a chore

  What are limits anyway?

They’re just things we invented

I don’t really find them useful

So, this year, I’ve dissented

  You may have noticed this time out

That numbers, I did grant

Promise they’ll stay in this order, though?

Now that, I just can’t

  I’m always changing my mind

Because, after all, you see

Good film is about the heart

And mine’s rather finicky

  There are a lot more I could name

(And I’ll change my mind at any time)

For now, though, consider these

The ones I found sublime

 20. Motherless Brooklyn

I’ve got a (hard-boiled) soft spot for 90’s neo-noirs like L.A. Confidential, Red Rock West and Seven, and Edward Norton’s ‘50’s take on Jonathan Lethem’s 90’s -set novel can stand firmly in that company.

19. Doctor Sleep

There’s something about Stephen King’s best writing that transcends mere popularity; his work may not be fine literature, but it is immune to the fads of the moment. So, too, are the best movies based on that work. This one, an engaging adventure-horror, deserved better than it got from audiences.

18. Jojo Rabbit

There was a time when the anything-goes satire of Mel Brooks could produce a major box office hit.  Disney’s prudish refusal to market the film coupled with the dominance of franchises means that’s no longer the case. If you bothered to give Jojo a shot, though, you got the strange-but-rewarding experience of guffawing one moment and being horrified the next.

17. By The Grace of God

I’d venture this is the least-seen film on my list; even among us brie-eating, wine-sniffing art house snobs, I rarely hear it mentioned. Focusing on the perspectives of three men dealing with a particularly heinous and unrepentant abusive priest and the hierarchy that protects him, it’s every bit as disquieting and infuriating as 2015’s Oscar-winning Spotlight.

16. Waves

You think Trey Edward Shultz’s Waves will be one thing---a domestic drama about an affluent African-American family (and that in and of itself is a rarity). Then it becomes something else entirely. It addresses something movies often avoid: that as life goes on, the person telling the story will always change.

15. Transit

You’re better off not questioning exactly where and when the film is set (it is based on a book about Nazi Germany but has been changed to be a more generalized Fascist state). The central theme here is identity, as three people change theirs back and forth based on need and desire.

14. American Woman

Movies about regular, working class, small-town American usually focus on men. This one is about a much-too-young mother and grandmother, played brilliantly by Sierra Miller, dealing with unexpected loss and the attendant responsibilities she isn’t ready for. 

13. Marriage Story

There is an argument between a married couple in here that is as true a human moment as ever was on screen---free of trumped-up screenplay drama and accurate to how angry people really argue. The entire movie strives to be about the kind of realistic divorce you don’t see on-screen. It is oddly refreshing.

12. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

Quentin Tarantino’s love letter to 70’s Tinseltown is essentially a question: What if the murder that changed the industry forever had gone down differently? Along the way, it also manages to be a clever and insightful study of fame and fulfillment, or lack thereof.

11. High Life

Claire Denis is damned determined not to be boring. Your reaction to her latest film will probably depend on how receptive you are to that as the driving force of a film. Myself, I’m very receptive. I want to see the personal struggles of convicts unwittingly shipped into space, told without Action-Adventure tropes, in a movie that sometimes misfires but is never dull.

 10. Dolemite Is My Name

And fuckin’ up motherfuckers is my game! Look, if you don’t like naughty words, you probably shouldn’t be reading my columns---and you definitely shouldn’t be watching this movie. Eddie Murphy plays Rudy Ray Moore, the ambitious, irrepressible and endlessly optimistic creator of Blaxpoitation character Dolemite. Have you seen the 1975 film? It’s either terrible and wonderful, or wonderful and terrible, and the jury’s still out. Either way, Moore in the film is a self-made comic who establishes himself by talking in a unique rhyming style that speaks to black Americans at a time when black pop culture (and not just the white rendition of it) was finally beginning to pierce the American consciousness. What The Disaster Artist did for The Room, this movie does for Dolemite---with the difference being I felt like I learned something I didn’t know here.

 9. 1917

Breathless, nerve-wracking and somehow intensely personal even though it almost never takes time to slow down, it is fair to call Sam Mendes’s film a thrill ride---but it’s one that enlightens us on a fading historical time, rather than simply being empty calories. Filmed in such a way as to make it seem like one continuous, two-hour take, for which some critics dismissed it as a gimmick, the technique is used to lock us in with the soldiers whose mission it is to save an entire division from disaster. We are given no information or perspective that the two central soldiers---merely two, in a countless multitude---do not have, and so we are with them at every moment, deprived of the relief of omniscience. I freely admit I tend to give anything about World War I the benefit of the doubt, but there’s no doubt that the movie earns my trust.

8. Ash Is Purest White

Known by the much less cool-sounding name Sons and Daughters of Jianghu in China, here is a story that starts off ostensibly about crime---a young woman and her boyfriend are powerful in the small-potatoes mob scene of a dying industrial town---but after the surprising first act becomes a meditation on life, perseverance and exactly how much power is worth, anyway, when it is so fleeting and so easily lost. What do you do when everything that defined you is gone? You go on living. This is my first exposure to writer-director Jia Zhangke, an oversight I must strive hard to correct in future.

7. Knives Out

The whodunit is a lost art, a standard genre belonging to a time when mass audiences could appreciate a picture even if someone didn’t run, yell or explode while running and yelling every ten minutes. Rian Johnson and an all-star cast rescued it from the brink of cinematic extinction and gave it just enough of a modern injection to keep it relevant. Every second of the film is engaging; Johnson even manages to have a character whose central trait is throwing up when asked to lie, and he makes it seem sympathetic rather than juvenile. The fantastic cast of characters is backed up with all the qualities of “true” cinema: perfect camerawork, an effective score, mesmerizing production design. As someone who didn’t much care for Johnson’s Star Wars outing, I’m honestly put out this didn’t do better at the box office than it did.

6. A Hidden Life

After a few questionable efforts and completely losing the thread with the execrable vanity project Song to Song, Terence Malick returns to his bread and butter: meditative dramas on the nature of faith, family, and being on the outside looking in, which encompass a healthy dose of nature, philosophy and people talking without moving their lips. That last is a little dig, but it’s true: Malick does Malick, and if you don’t like his thing, this true story about a German dissenter in World War II will not change your mind. For me, what Malick has done is that rarest of things: he had made a movie about faith, and about a character who is faithful, without proselytizing. That the closeness and repressiveness of the Nazi regime is characterized against Malick’s typical soaring backdrops is a masterstroke, and the best-ever use of his visual style.

5. The Lighthouse

Robert Eggers is a different kind of horror filmmaker. After redefining what was possible with traditional horror monsters in The Witch, he returned with something that couldn’t be more different: an exploration of madness more in the vein of European film than American. Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe are two men stranded in a lighthouse together slowly losing their minds, or what is left of them. The haunting score and stark, black-and-white photography evoke a nightmare caught on tape, something we’re not supposed to be seeing. It’s not satisfying in a traditional way, but for those craving something more cerebral from horror, Eggers has it covered.

4. Us

I have become slightly notorious in my own little circle for not thinking Get Out was the greatest film ever made, and now I’ve become rather known for thinking Us just might be. Ok, so that’s definite hyperbole: “greatest” is a tall claim for almost any horror movie. Yet here Jordan Peele shows that he can command an audience’s attention even when not benefiting from a popular cultural zeitgeist in terms of subject matter. It’s a movie with no easy or clear message, one that specializes in simply unsettling us with the idea that the world is fundamentally Not Right. I firmly believe that if Peele becomes a force in the genre, 50 years from now when he and all of us are gone, his first film will be remembered as a competent start, while this will be remembered as the beginning of his greatness.

3. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

Ostensibly about urban gentrification, this story of a young black man trying to save his ancestral home from the grasping reach of white encroachment is a flower with many petals to reveal. Don’t let my political-sounding description turn you off: the movie is not a polemic in the slightest, but rather a wry, sensitive look at people, their personalities and how those personalities are intertwined with the places they call home. Though the movie is the directorial debut of Joe Talbot, it is based loosely on the memories and feelings of his friend Jimmie Falls, who also plays one of the two central characters. If you’ve ever watched a place you love fall to the ravages of time and change, this movie may strike quite a chord with you.

2. Uncut Gems

When asked why this movie is great, I usually say that it was unbelievably stressful and caused me great anxiety. This description is not usually successful in selling it. The Safdie Brothers have essentially filmed chaos: a man self-destructing in slow-motion, if you can call it slow. Howard Ratner has probably been gradually exploding all his life; he strikes you as someone who came out of the womb throwing punches. He’s an addictive gambler who loves the risk much more than the reward, and can’t gain anything good in life without risking it on a proverbial roll of the dice. His behavior is destructive. His attitude is toxic. Why do we root for him? Perhaps because, as played by Adam Sandler, he never has any doubt as to who he is---something few of us can say. He’s an asshole, but he’s a genuine asshole, and somehow that’s appealing even when you’re in his line of fire.

1. Pain and Glory

When I realized I would, for the first time, have the chance to see a Pedro Almodovar film on the screen, I was overjoyed. His movies aren’t always great, but that was of little concern: he’s one of the handful of directors on the planet who can fairly call back to the avant-garde traditions of Bergman or Truffaut, making the movies he wants to make about the things he want to make them about, and I’d never seen one of his films when it was new and fresh, only months or years later on DVD.

It seems I picked right, as his latest has been almost universally hailed as one of the best of his long career. An aging, aching filmmaker spends his days in his apartment, ignoring the fans of his original hit film and most of his own acquaintances, alive or dead---he tries hard to put his memories away. Throughout the course of the movie, he re-engages with most of them in one way or another, coming to terms with who he is and where he’s been, though not in a Hallmark-movie-of-the-week way. Antonio Banderas plays him in the role that was always denied him by his stud status in Hollywood. It isn’t simply him, though: every person we meet is engaging and, we sense, has their own story outside of how they intersect with his. Most engaging is that of his deceased mother, who in her youth was played vivaciously by a sun-toughened Penelope Cruz. Perhaps Almodovar will tell us some of their stories some day. Perhaps not. I would read an entire book of short fiction all about them. This is the year’s best film.

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

A Thin Line Between Love & Hate ♛

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: Y/N, a fiery, new Avenger with the fighting prowess of Black Widow herself, and Bucky Barnes, a stubborn, ex-soldier with the demons and strength to prove it, don’t exactly get along, despite their many similarities. The two of them make it their mission to win against the other, making everything between them a competition. A sparring match gone awry and a midnight dip in the pool changes all of that. Let the games begin.

A/N: since the last Bucky fic I wrote did so well and I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately :( I decided to write what I’m familiar with, and I just had the pleasure of watching Bohemian Rhapsody in theaters (GO WATCH IT IT’S SPECTACULAR) and it’s caused a stroke of inspiration XD please enjoy this little story of my favorite smol winter bean even if it’s a flipping mess and lemme know what you think and if ya want more 

Warnings: mega fluff, a sparring match with violence ensues, sexual tension to the max, language

You clutch your gym bag to your side, slung over your shoulder haphazardly with little regard for style. The tank top you threw on clings comfortably to your waist, followed by a slipped on pair of athletic leggings that leave little of your curves to the imagination of your teammates. But at the moment, that’s the least of your worries, that, on the other hand, is running into James Buchanan Barnes a.k.a the human version of a paper cut. He’s stubborn, insistent, irritatingly charming and annoyingly good-looking, making it damn near impossible to muster up the strength to be angry with him (but you find a way anyway). He also has the sole purpose of teasing you to hell and back. Ever since the first day here, you’ve been at each other’s throats. And to this day, you still have no idea why.

You like to think it’s just a game, that you’re both only joking, but sometimes he’ll say things and the look on his face tells you otherwise. That perhaps you’ve gone too far. 

Then, proving your point, while passing you, he knocks his broad shoulder against yours in the narrow hall. You frown and kick your leg out, tripping him in the process, watching as he barely catches himself, struggling to stand up straight until using the wall to steady himself. He chuckles darkly, blowing hair out of his eyes.

You narrow your eyes at the Winter Soldier, “Do you do this to all the women you work with or am I just lucky?”

“Good morning to you too, doll,” he says gruffly as he helps himself up and dusts off his deep gray joggers, his own tank clinging to his muscles, the wind having been knocked out of him.

You pry your eyes away from him and tuck hair behind your ear, shaking your head, “It certainly was,” you drink in the frustration in his eyes cerulean eyes.

“You’re a real piece of work, Y/L/N,” he sighs, glancing at you with an amused expression, the conflict behind his eyes warring when you look back at him.

You grab him by the front of his shirt, crumbling the cotton material in your fist, his smirk only an inch away from your own lips and he lets you do it. “Then next time you’re walking down this hall, watch where you’re going and don’t knock into me. Or get it through your head that I’ll do it back.”

He shakes his head with a low laugh, looming over you, “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day and no one will be there to save you.”

“Is that a threat?”

His lips twitch, “No, doll, it’s a warning.”

You let go of his shirt and push him back, the tempting look in his eyes frightens you, “It keeps you away, doesn’t it? Me running my mouth,” his resolve flickers. “I’m also more than capable of saving myself, I don’t run away from my problems.”

He rolls his eyes and frowns, “And you’re suggesting I do?”

“I thought I made that clear,” you tilt your head, toe to toe with the man.

“Oh, you did, I was just hoping I didn’t hear you correctly.”

“I have read that hearing deteriorates first when it comes to men of your age.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “Are you calling me elderly, Y/N?”

You look him over, enjoying this far too much when you nonchalantly shrug your shoulders, “If the denture fits.”

He snorts. “Funny,” he glances furtively at your mouth, how it curls at its edges. 

You laugh, enjoying this game of cat and mouse, the highlights of your day, you think, “I’d like to think so,” you smile before walking out of the hall and into gym, where the team trains every morning, leaving a confused Bucky to stew alone in the hall.

Steve sends you a smile when you enter the room and Tony’s shoots you a wink as you set down your things and watch patiently while Steve sets up the the boxing ring. It’s been awhile since the last match between any of you, but you wouldn’t mind throwing yourself back in, with the promise of high stakes of course. You’re never one to back down from a challenge.

Natasha smirks when you look over at her, regretting your decision when you see her signature scarlet smile, “Morning, Y/N, where’s your boyfriend?”

You force a laugh when you begin wrapping a bandage over your knuckles, a genuine one escaping when you look to see Barnes coincidentally enter the room himself. Shit, “I don’t have a boyfriend, Nat,” you look up at your friend, holding your mouth tightly. “You know that.”

“Be careful,” Tony pats your shoulder affectionately. “If he hears you’re single, he won’t hesitate to throw his hat in the ring. Literally...”

“You’re not helping, Stark,” you elbow his side, not doing much damage when he catches your arm in his hand. You rip your arm back from his grasp and he pokes your nose. You scrunch your face.

“That wasn’t my intention,” he grins. “But you’re seriously adorable when you’re angry.”

Bucky smiles at that.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

Steve cracks a smile while setting up and hearing the teasing, he avoids your glare when you hear him. Bucky pretends stays in the dark as to what you’re all whispering not-so-covertly about, every so often looking over at you.

“What about that guy Nick who asked for your number at the bar yesterday? He seemed pretty interested in filling that position for you,” Nat brings up after a spell of silence and you look at her, knowing what she’s trying to do.

Bucky’s ears perk up, tightening his metal fist at the thought of it. He knows he has no right to be jealous or possessive over you, not after the way he’s treated you, but he can’t help it, anger he’s never experienced before. Then, before you can argue with Nat, Steve speaks up.

“Alright,” Steve starts. “Who wants a turn in the r-”

Your hand shoots up first, grinning excitedly, “I do.”

“You need a partner, hotshot,” he chuckles at your enthusiasm, an idea sparking when he locks eyes with both Nat and Tony, flashing a smile when he looks at you. “How about Bucky?”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you laugh in disbelief, “You’re kidding... Right? You must be joking. Because if not, that serum has finally reached your brain and its messed up... something up there,” you shake your head.

“I’m not fighting a girl, Steve,” Bucky wraps his own bandage over his hand, chuckling deeply, resonating from his chest. Even if his jealousy was slowly growing and he wouldn’t mind a one on one with a punching bag, he’d never take it out on you. 

But something in you clicks when he says this, rubbing you the wrong way, “Because you’d lose,” you turn around, you simply couldn’t help yourself. If only you’d kept your mouth shut... 

He lifts an eyebrow, standing up straight with his arms folded over his broad chest, squaring his shoulders, “Is that right?”

“I guess we’ll never know, because we’re not doing it,” you look back at a smug Cap. Your blood boils when Bucky takes a step towards you and you stare him down, but it doesn’t do you much good. It’s consists more of staring up at him.

“It sounds to me, doll, like you’re the one who’s afraid you’ll lose,” he maintains a thoughtful expression, sizing you up. You furrow your brow.

“I just don’t want your pretty face to get hurt, that’s all, it is all you got going for you,” you tilt your chin up.

His eyes flash and you know you struck a nerve. He chuckles humorlessly, “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman,” he tells you. “Or I’d ask you to put your money where your mouth is. Since you always have so much to say.”

“A gentleman knows how to finish a fight, not start one,” you push your hands against his chest, sending him backwards after having enough. “So finish it.”

He looks at his chest and back at you, clenching his jaw, “Watch it, Y/N.”

“Come on, then,” you tell him, swinging your leg over the rings border and climbing inside. Steve and Tony share a worrisome look, wondering what they’ve started, Nat only leans forward, hoping to hear more. “Or are you going to keep running?” you throw over your shoulder.

It doesn’t take him long to ignore the inner turmoil creating in his gut. ducking under the border himself and stepping into the ring, commanding the attention of the room when he gets into his stance.

He swings the first punch, you duck under it and swing your leg out to send him on his back. You move to straddle him on the ground, but he’s back on his feet before the thought even crosses your mind, gripping your ankle when it flies towards his face. Your fist collides with his jaw, hitting just the corner of his mouth, he stumbles back, and he wipes at the cracked lip, staring in awe at the trickle of crimson staining his calloused finger.

Guilt settles in your stomach, and your form wavers, in your hesitation, his fist curls and the blow lands painfully into your shoulder. You grasp the sore area and fall back, catching yourself against the bordering ropes. The room goes silent, one giant, collective inhale of breath being the last thing you hear before Bucky’s face falls. He didn’t want to do this. To fight you, but here you are. You asked for it, you can’t back down now.

His chest heaves, his eyes full of guilt and fear, he gulps like he’s gasping for air, “Doll, I-”

You didn’t have time to freeze, to listen to what he’s saying. The punch only fuels your adrenaline and you flip him on his back, on top of him and straddling his waist. You throw a punch, aiming for the bridge of his nose, but he blocks it, taking your wrist in his to move you so you’re the one on your back. You ignore the heat rising to your face from being beneath him, caged under his muscular arms, holding himself above your frame with little to no effort. He could crush you if he wanted to, you wondered why he didn’t just finish it right here and now, that’s what you expected, after all. It does’t help that he smells so damn good.

“We can stop here and call it a tie,” he tells you, his cool, minty breath fanning over your flushed face, noses brushing whether you like it or not. You’d never admit to the former anyway. “I’m trying to help you, doll.”

You snort, “Don’t strain yourself,” you knee him in the groin and he topples over, unable to stand once again. You’re on your feet before him, declaring you the winner of the match. He went easy on you and you know it. Your chest rises and falls with each strenuous breath and you blow hair out from in front of your eyes, swinging your leg over the ropes again.

You couldn’t stand there and gloat, something you’d usually have no problem boating, to mess with him. But you’re still thinking about how you felt, when you were pinned beneath him, how your face burned, how your skin rubbed against his own, and how you still feel afterwards. But you hate him. You hate him.

Don’t you?

★★★

Bucky leans his back against the side of the rooftop pool atop the Avengers building, muscles aching from training, the cool water and night air relaxing him. He breathes slowly, hoping this isolation will help him forget the events of today, what he did. He hit you. You of all people. He never wanted to lay a hand on you, not only are you a woman, but you’re you. Not to mention the fact you can throw one hell of a punch as well, his split lip a consequence of that, his thumb brushing over it when it comes to mind.

His mind whirs, thinking about you, and his heart tightens in an unfamiliar, unspoken way. The same ache in his chest he’s felt since you got here, hoping if he’d ignore it and you, it’d make it all go away. But it’s only made the sensation worse, thinking back to having you underneath him, a dream he never thought would bloom into fruition. Just under different circumstances. If only he hadn’t have messed it up and pushed you away in the process, everyone in the room watching.

And that he doesn’t hate you. Not even a little. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s absolutely enamored with you.

You slide open the door leading to the roof, a cover-up wrapped around your waist, hugging yourself. You turn to close it and look back to see Barnes in where you were hoping to find empty. You cross your arms over your chest and look on at him, haven’t had talked to him since this morning.

Thinking against starting a verbal altercation with him once again, you instead ask softly, “Mind if I join you?” voice lost in the wind.

He shakes his head, looking up at you, afraid his hoarse voice will give way to his emotions. Bucky attempts to avert his eyes when you drop the cover-up, revealing a red two piece decorated with cherries, the bottoms high waisted and fitted to your curved waist. Then his eyes are falling over you and he simply can’t look away. His eyes are glued to you and you want to fight him on it, say something, but you can’t either.

Bucky admires the way your y/s/c skin illuminates in the milky, effervescent moonlight, gaze flicking back up to meet your eyes when you catch him staring. You only smile and brush him off. You descend the steps inside and sit across the pool from him, the bruise on your shoulder on display, weighing on his conscious.

He’s the first to break the silence, “Doll... I-I’m sorry.”

Your eyes follow where his lay on your bruised shoulder, shaking your head, “Don’t be, was my fault. I pushed you to fight when you didn’t want to. I shouldn’t have. I’ll heal,” you offer him a sweet smile, an expression he treats as a gift, a rare sight to see, especially when it comes to him. Well, one he knows of.

He returns the smile halfheartedly, arms spread out on either side of him, gripping onto the edge of the hot tub. The tension is slowly simmering away into something new, crossing the line between love and hate, the air growing heavier by the heated second. You sigh and push yourself off the wall, if you were going to talk you at least need to be able to hear him. You wade to the halfway mark of the pool, treading water. 

Bucky’s hands grow clammy, watching you move. Just like you did in the ring, elegantly and deliberately with an endearingly awkward clumsiness he finds more attractive than he should. He forces himself to think about what’s changed since this morning, why he’s feeling these things now. Then you look at him and it answers his question.

You run a hand through your wet tendrils of hair, fighting back a satisfied smirk, “Why the long face, Barnes?”

He leans forward, sitting up straighter on his ledge, enough to make droplets of water roll down his torso and catch your eye, finally coming out with it, “Why do you hate me?”.

You’re taken aback by his sudden question and you’re brutally aware of what your answer will do to the complicated relationship between you two. You run a hand through your hair and sigh, standing up, “I could ask you the same question.”

Bucky pulls his brow together, getting off the wall, “If I hate you? You think I hate you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you laugh, humorless and forced, you hope he’s joking. “You’ve made it your mission to tease and insult me since the moment I got here, you purposely bumped into me in the hall this morning as you do most days.” Getting so frustrated with him, you splash water at his face, earning a petty one back from him.

He runs his hands down his face, “Are you serious?” he looks at you, blinking hard like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Bucky, why else would you purposely run into me in the hallway? Or punch me in the fucking shoulder!”

He laughs loudly, slicking his long hair back and looking towards the sky as if he’d find the answer to his internal question written in starlight, “You told me to fight you. And I apologized immediately after because I never wanted to do it in the first place! You’re also the one that punched me in the jaw and split my lip first... Come on, dollface, you’re tougher than that. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you-”

“So was that your plan? Teasing me constantly, everyday, to prove I’m tougher than I look?” you snort and his face flushes red when you tug your lip between your teeth. “Mission accomplished then, Barnes, I know now. Satisfied?” 

He sighs, chuckling, “When did flirting with a dame become so damn challenging?” He smiles sadly, “Maybe I am old.”

You watch as his eyes fall on your lips even at this distance from one another and you, painfully so, do the same.

Stunned, your lips part slightly, sending him a silent, tantalizing invitation to wipe this confused look off your face and answer your question. By any extreme means possible. He groans aloud at the tempting pout of your baby pink lips, taking you by the hand to pull you to his chest, wet skin flushed together.

His calloused hands move up to cup your jaw, tilting your face towards him, he presses his desperate lips feverishly against your own, lighting your skin aflame. He kisses tentatively as if he’s walking into the home of an old friend and afraid he’s arrived too late, thumb brushing the ghost of a heart over your cheek. His plush lips taste of salt water and scotch liquor, tongue laced with smooth butterscotch candy he stole from your bedroom. And suddenly you’re craving the sweetness, too. Your arms fall helplessly to his chest, listening to the lullaby of Bucky’s slowly rising heartbeat, humming pleasantly at the thought that that’s of your doing. A whimper escapes your shaky lips when his tongue slips in your mouth just as his hands wander to grip your thighs beneath the water, hoisting you up. He eases your legs to wrap around his waist and hold on.

Both of you break away at once, swollen, pink lips still brushing with the sworn promise of meeting again, nudging your nose against his when you exhale. Your eyes flutter closed again, paired with a simple, soft smile, muttering quietly, “...Oh.” 

He cracks a smile, kissing just below your mouth, muttering a silent love letter in your skin, “Maybe if you didn’t ramble so much, you’d have been silent long enough for me to do this.”

“Screw you.”

His stormy eyes darken, complementing nicely with his seductive grin, “Maybe later, doll.”

You tilt your chin up to capture his awaiting lips with your own, wrapping your arms wantonly around his neck, a gesture he eagerly returns with a squeeze of your ass. You gasp into the kiss, The man is a human radiator, exuding heat, in his touch, in his kiss, in his skin, warming your body from the inside out. 

Bucky buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing you in the spot sure to make you squirm in his touch. Then he stops, something coming over him when he moves up to lean his forehead against your own, meeting your lust blown eyes.

His face burns under your expectant gaze, cursing himself for not doing this sooner, “Are we... are we really doing this?” he says when you place a calculated kiss underneath his jaw, letting your tongue trace his hot skin, only fueling the fire before whispering,

“Meet me inside in ten minutes and find out.”

[areyoureadyforsomemeatballz]

Cast Away (1): The Ticking Clock

Summary: After a mission gone awry, you end up stranded on a deserted island. While you know that you have the skills to survive in the desolate paradise, you’re not sure if your heart will.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,000

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual). Asshole Bucky. Asshole reader. Assholes all around. Brief mentions of a suicide mission.

A/N: Hey guys! This idea has been in my head for so long and I’m excited to see what you all think. As always, I appreciate all comments, likes, and reblogs (they fuel my writing!). Scream with me or at me? Beggars can’t be choosers.

The sounds of someone rifling through the freezer startles you from your thoughts as you finish up breakfast. Odds are, its Tony or Clint this time of morning and you clear the spot next to you for them to sit down.

“Who the fuck ate my last toaster strudel?”

Shit. You abandon your cleaning and quickly shove the last bite of the pastry into your mouth. You scoop up your phone and bury your face in it, pretending to read the details of your next mission.

“Sam,” Bucky shouts from the kitchen. “I told you to keep out of my stuff-”

The hulking brunet rounds the corner and his fiery gaze lands on you. His eyes narrow as he sees the golden crumbs spread out on the plate in front of you.

“I didn’t know that it was yours, Barnes,” you say as you stand up from the table. “I wouldn’t have touched it.”

He holds the box up to you, thumbing a label with his name on it. “Maybe you should learn how to read.”

“Maybe you’re pathological,” you mutter under your breath.

Bucky raises his eyebrow as you brush past him. “Come again, sweetheart?”

You whip around to him with your fists clenched. ��I think you heard me loud and clear. Oh, and Barnes? Call me that again, and I’ll cut your dick off and smash your label maker.”

He chuckles, and you force your feet to carry you down the hallway, instead of smacking the grin off his face. You barely hear your name being called as you stalk down the hallway to your bedroom.

A delicate hand wraps around your wrist and your eyes snap up to be met with Natasha and Steve. “You’ve got resting murder face. Let me guess, James?”

Steve shakes his head and crosses his arms. “Why you don’t like each other is beyond me.”

You roll your eyes. “Ask your war pal, Steven. I’m sick of playing nice.”

“You’re going to want to put the claws away, kitten,” Natasha says with a grin before she heads down the hall, glancing over her shoulder to add. “Isn’t that right, Steve?”

You glare after her and turn back to Steve, quirking your brow. Steve coughs and keeps his eyes trained on the wall above your head.

Steve forces himself to meet your eyes and gives you a sheepish smile. “Don’t hate me.”

You lean against the wall and glare at him, motioning for him to continue with your hand.

“You’re running the point team on the mission tonight. It’ll be me and Natasha as one pair,” Steve pauses and your eyes widen in realization. “Buck’ll be a great asset as a teammate.”

“Steve, that’s a terrible idea. Please don’t do this to me,” you plead. “I’d rather be benched! Keep him with you. Hell, you know he’d prefer it too.”

“You’re a great leader, and he needs to practice working with others. I trust you with him.” Steve pats your shoulder and smiles at you. “He’s a good person, you know?

“So you’ve said. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s a shit teammate-”

The sound of heavy footsteps cuts you off and you turn around to see Bucky making his way to you. His face shifts back to a smug grin when he notices that you see him.

“Some spy you are,” he says, the saccharine sweet tone of his voice at direct odds with his words.

“What about you, oh great assassin? Aren’t you supposed to be silent? I heard your clunky ass stomping up the hall from a mile away.”

He grins at you. “Is that why it took you so long to turn around, teammate?”

Your jaw drops. “You knew?”

“Course I did.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I like to watch you squirm-”

“Hey, Buck, why don’t you go suit up? We’ve got to head out soon,” Steve cuts in.

Bucky’s eyes shoot over to Steve as if he’d forgotten he was there. “Yeah, yeah sure thing, Stevie.”

You scoff at Bucky’s change in demeanor and Steve points at the two of you. “Behave.”

Bucky brushes past you, just grazing your body with his own. “Can’t wait to serve under you. Apparently, I’ve got a lot to learn,” he murmurs close to your ear.

You shove him away from you and glare at him as he makes his way to his room. “Barnes,” you shout. “I’ll play nice if you do.”

He stops in his tracks and turns back to you. “Sounds good to me. See you on the jet, kitten.”

You take a deep breath and swipe your hand down your face. “How fucking long were you listening for?”

“Maybe I’m a better assassin than you give me credit for?”

Your lips quirk up in a small smile. “Maybe.”

“There go the claws, I guess?”

“You wish, Barnes.”

The nauseating smell of rusted metal and gentle swaying of the floor throws you off as you scamper down the narrow hall beneath the deck of the battleship. You can just make out the sounds of fighting and the heavy rainfall above you. You’d lost Bucky somewhere in the metal encased maze. You stumble into another room full of waiting hostiles.

You press your finger to your ear as you line up another shot. “Steve! It’s a complete shit show down here!”

Steve’s voice sounds far too quiet in the communication device. “The intel was bad. This ship was supposed to be empty…”

He grunts in pain, and you realize he’s having as rough a time as you. You smash your elbow into the nose of the goon behind you and cry out when he wrenches your wrist back with his meaty hand. He’s torn away from you with bruising force and you’re met with Bucky’s haunting blue eyes.

You nod at him in thanks, not quite able to get the words out. Another wave of militants’ surges into the room and you turn away, fighting back to back with Bucky. He hits where you can’t, and you shoot where he misses.

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” he shouts as he tosses you one of his guns after yours runs out of bullets. “Now.”

“What are you proposing, Barnes?”

“Isn’t this your mission?”

You turn to glare at him and shoot a man lurking over his shoulder. “I can’t fucking do this right now!”

You barely catch the roll of his eyes. “Why don’t we just blow this godforsaken tin can sky high,” he mutters as he grabs the last man around the neck and sends him flying into a wall with a sickening crunch.

You nod. “I like the way you think.”

You turn away from him and sprint down the set of rusty stairs, hoping that you remember the map well enough to know where you’re going. Heavy footsteps behind you alert you of Bucky’s presence.

He grips your shoulder and pulls you to a stop right outside a heavy metal door. “I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t,” you say as you brush his hand off your shoulder. “Why is it that these bastards don’t ever protect their weaponries? Not that I’m complaining.”

You pull open the heavy door and start your search for any kind of bomb. You feel Bucky’s eyes on you.

“Aha,” you exclaim as you find a frankly frightening amount of C4. “Tell Clint to bring the plane around and as soon as Nat and Steve are clear we’ll set this to detonate.”

“Are you crazy,” he asks with wide eyes. “You’re going to kill us all.”

You scoff at him and hold up a bundle of detonators that were in another box. “These are extended time detonators, I’m sure you’re familiar. I’m not suicidal, Barnes. These guys aren’t going to stop until we’re dead. You saw those planes on the main deck, right? They will shoot us out of the sky if we give them a chance.”

He closes his eyes and calculates the risks of your plan. “This had better work.”

You hold the detonators in between your teeth as you shove one into a brick of C4. “I knew you’d come around. Get me those pliers?”

He surges behind him to grab the pliers and begins talking quickly into his comm. “Okay, here. Just wait for Steve’s okay.” He passes you the set of pliers.

“No shit. If I pinched these off now it’d be game over. We’ll have around fifteen-”

“I know how C4 works.”

“Of course, you do,” you mutter and place another detonator.

“That’s enough.”

“Oh, so only you can be sassy?”

“I meant the explosives,” he says. “That’s enough to level a building.”

You pause and nod your head at him. “Thank you.”

His head shoots up and he raises his eyebrow at you. His response is cut off as he places his finger to his ear listening to Natasha’s okay. “They’re clear.”

You use the pliers to pinch each detonator quickly and precisely. The two of you race up to the main deck. Lightning cracks across the sky, lighting up the deck as if it were daylight. The floor beneath you feels unsteady as the ship is tossed on the swelling waves.

“Storm is too-” Steve’s voice cuts in and out on your comm. “Evacuate-”

“Fucking shit!”

You look around the deck and your eyes land on a lifeboat on the other side. “Barnes! I have an idea.”

He sees the boat and you both take off running across the drenched deck. A gunshot behind you kicks you into overdrive and the two of you slip as you dive into the small boat. You slam the release lever and the boat crashes into the churning pitch-black water. Bucky starts up the rickety engine and it sputters to life.

“We’ve got to get out of the explosion radius,” Bucky shouts above the booming sounds of the storm. “How long?”

“A minute? Maybe two.”

A mountain of a wave crashes into the side of the lifeboat, pushing you further away from the warship. Behind you the explosion rips through the night. You look up at Bucky, your eyes glassy with terror.

“Copy, Steve,” he says after pressing his comm. “Copy.”

The explosion sends bigger waves towards you and you are thrown towards the water. You brace yourself for the fall, but a steel grip wraps around your waist. Around your little boat the storm picks up and the rising waves begin to spill over the sides.

“Maybe this was a suicide mission,” you whisper.

Bucky slumps over you and you let out a desperate scream. “Barnes? Hey, look at me.”

You shake his shoulders and when you pull your hands away they are stained a bright red. The pouring rain washes it from your palms quickly. You press your hand to him, searching for the wound. He falls to the ground and you lay him as flat as possible.

“Barnes?”

Bucky’s trembling hands tear at his vest, which did nothing to protect him. “You gotta-” he gasps as the vest falls free. “Get the bullet out.”

“Steve’s bringing the plane,” you say as you press down on his gushing wound. “You need to hold on.”

“They can’t. Not with the storm,” his voice sounds far away. “I’ll heal as soon as the damn thing is out.”

You push your wet hair out of your face and brace yourself to feel around for the bullet. His skin is cold. Much to cold for your liking.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur and look up at him. “This is going to hurt.”

He gives you a sad smile. “I’ve had worse.”

He groans as you fish the bullet out as gently as you can. A monstrous wave swells next to your boat, sending a hunk of metal debris flying towards you. It slams into you and you are met with darkness.

The sun beats down on you and you blink your eyes against the harsh light. Your lips are bone dry and your mission suit is stiff from the salt water. You surge up, still in the lifeboat, and groan with the pain in your head. You look around and Bucky is sprawled out across the floor. You rush over to him and look over his freshly healed chest. He’s not moving. He doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. Your fingers fly to his pulse point where you find a steady beat.

“Gimme five more minutes, doll,” he murmurs and rolls over, taking you with him.

You take a deep breath and roll your eyes, but find yourself feeling relief that he’s alive. “I’m not one of your booty calls! Get up!”

His eyes crack open and he lets you out of his arms immediately. “Why the hell are you in my bed?”

“Look around, Barnes,” you say.

The lifeboat is resting in golden sand that is backed by a dense forest of trees. In front of you are miles and miles of glistening blue water.  

“Welcome to paradise.”

“More like hell.”