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ronearoundblindly · 8 months

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Your Dog, His Tricks

a Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader tale set a little over a year after losing their virginity together and based on this ask.

Summary: Injured on a mission and MIA for days, you return to a very high-strung boyfriend who can't express what he's feeling until it boils to the surface.

Warnings: arguments and smut. MINORS DNI. WC 5.4k

You don’t know when it started, this sort of competition with your boyfriend, but at some point you and Steve became a packaged deal. Unfortunately, that package was labeled: Steve Rogers and his girl. You feel nameless sometimes, and you know you are better than that; maybe you aren’t super like he is, but you are (and were since before dating) a whole-ass Avenger in your own right. You are a stellar agent. You can bring home the top prize. You can finish this shit-show of a mission all on your own.

No help.

None.

You noticed a problem after months and months of fighting with Steve—no, that sounds wrong—beside Steve.

Okay, maybe it’s not wrong-wrong to say fighting with him because you two do have the occasional argument. Just one argument, really. One argument over and over again about you fighting beside him, why it’s fine, why he should let it go. You are as safe fighting beside him now as you were before the two of you became this set, this lop-sided partnership. He still wants to protect you from shit you are trained to protect yourself from, shit you survived just fine without him, shit like the last three days.

He’s stubborn, and so are you.

You’ve had trouble getting him to back off. The Team is a team, and Steve does great, delegating all sorts of jobs when you are one among many. As soon as it’s you and him alone? He’s…overly helpful, over-protective, and generally over-the-top fussy. He is adoring and caring and competent. Apparently, those things make him feel capable of doing everything for you. It’s sweet until it’s not. Every time you start a project—laundry, cooking, organizing shelves, or leading an actual mission—Steve waltzes in and has to finish it for you.

Because he loves you. Because he’s trying to help. Because he can.

It makes you feel as if you can’t, or, at least, as if he thinks you can’t.

“Well, buddy, you can’t have this one,” you mutter outside of HQ’s gate, gripping your side and flicking open the phone you stole a few states back.

You’ve been gone for just shy of seventy-three hours.

At first, you truly had no way to contact the Team. You were on your own a thousand miles from home, fried comms and a spent weapon. You missed the rendezvous at the safehouse because it took twenty or so hours to find a vet office with the supplies to patch yourself up, and by the time you could have reached out, that ear worm wouldn’t leave you alone.

He’ll swoop in.

He’ll save you.

You’re his girl, so you need him. You can’t handle this without him. No one will believe you did once he gets anywhere near you.

Call it adrenaline. Call it blood loss. Call it shock. You can’t give up this glory, so you told yourself you needed radio silence to keep the recovered intel secure until back on Avengers campus. You told yourself the risk of interception was too high to chance a phone call.

Now, fifty feet from the infirmary, you need to get past one more obstacle.

You know Steve would jump from a third-story window to get to you, know he would scoop you right up into his arms and carry you over the threshold, know that would mean Steve wins.

No. Not this time. This is yours. You deserve the credit. You are crossing that finish line solo.

You jab the last of the epi-pens into your good leg, letting yet more adrenaline heave through what little of your blood volume is left and call the HQ secure line from the burner.

“Friday,” you start, standing at the bus stop, a blindspot from the Avengers’ surveillance cameras because the city already monitors it, “authorization Gamma-Lima-Four-Whisky. Do not declare connection. I repeat, do not declare this connection.”

The AI welcomes you back onto the grid politely.

“Thank you.” A bubble of pain bursts in your throat. “Give them a different location for this call, ok? Tell them it’s from the nearest functional payphone.”

Friday does as you say because why wouldn’t she? It’s not as if Steve is going to pause to question where the ping is—

—and he’s already out, on the bike, pushing that engine to its acceleration limit and narrowly escaping a shoulder check from the slowly opening gates.

You sneak right past, knowing he won’t look in his rearview, not with his eye on a prize ten blocks away, and you collapse just inside the garage ramp.

You wake prone in the Regeneration Cradle after surgery to a kind, smiling nurse monitoring your progress.

It’s difficult to focus. After a few blinks, you can see her features clearly, then beyond her are just eyes.

His eyes.

Piercing blue doesn’t begin to describe the intensity of Steve’s gaze, and his silence is deafening.

Each quarter-minute he inventories the room, and he exhales. That is the sum total of what he can manage to do right now. He’s attempting to keep it together until you two are alone obviously. Steve fails at very few things in life; this is one of them. You can see the outline of his teeth through his tight cheek.

“Doc wanted me to tell you you did a great job,” the nurse states softly. “If you hadn’t packed those wounds so tight, you’d have died for sure.”

Your mouth is too dry to respond, so you flash a wry smile. No one gets the Cradle without…extensive injuries. You’ve never had the ‘pleasure,’ not even for your through-and-through last year.

Steve huffs in frustration, keeping his huge body out of the nurse’s way even when you can feel him try to astral project himself forward to hand you ice chips. Instead, you swallow cotton.

“Captain Rogers,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimes from above, “your motorcycle has been cited for running five red lights with a further two dozen traffic violations. Shall I claim Official Avengers’ business?”

You croak ‘no.’ He says ‘yes.’

There’s a pause. “I will ask again later.”

Who says AIs can’t throw some serious shade?

Silence descends again as the spindling print needle moves on to a different wound. You’re lucid but wobbly trying to think, a combination of the waning anesthesia and pain meds.

If frowns could kill, your boyfriend’s would devastate the entire med bay.

This is what you hoped beyond hope to avoid, but it’s also why your endgame involved going solo.

“You’re making my point for me,” you sigh, your chest hurting more after surgery than it has in the past twenty-four hours. Clearly, your nerves are back online.

“And what point was that?“ he asks sarcastically, waiting in your own stubborn silence. “You gave me a heart attack.”

“Really?” You’re playfully shocked.

“No, not really! God.” He rushes closer. “What the hell were you thinking? If you had time to send me on a wild goose chase, you could damn well have called to tell me you were alive!”

The cradle’s lights shut off, job complete.

“Language, Steve.”

He looks incredulous, engrossingly livid, anxious outrage contained by his one frayed thread of control left.

“We found the intel,” he grits through a clenched jaw. “After power-washing your blood off it, everything was on the drive.”

You can’t sit up on your elbows yet, so you bite back, “good. It all worked out fine then.”

Wafting off him in thick clouds, Steve’s anger is near-flammable in the small room.

The nurse offers to step out for a second.

You say ‘yes.’ Steve barks ‘no.’

This isn’t the nurse’s first rodeo. “Alright, surgery went well. All debris and fragments removed. Your tissue is all intact now, too, but remember, this treatment doesn’t train new muscle fiber or nerve-endings.” She ignores Steve and pushes past to the other end of the table. “Rest up. Tomorrow, you can report to PT. They’ll work with you until you’re field-approved again.”

“She is not—“

“Both of you are ordered to rest,” the nurse snaps, nodding in Steve’s direction “—and make yourself useful by changing her drip when it runs out. If you can’t manage that, Captain, I will find a separate apartment or keep her here overnight.”

“No,” Steve breathes, visibly deflating. Like a scolded puppy, your boyfriend tucks his chin down, rings of grey settling beneath his dark sea eyes. It’s plain as day he hasn’t slept either.

The nurse calls for a wheelchair, and Steve dutifully helps you scoot off the table when it arrives. While he positions the IV to move in tandem, you attempt to push yourself by the huge rubber wheels and fail. Doc was not kidding about muscle weakness.

Steve says nothing.

You’re rolled back to your shared room by the grumpiest Captain America.

He helps you dress in baggy, comfy clothes and silently reattaches the line of your drip. Not one touch is in a sexual, sensual, or even intimate way even though you are naked at some point.

You can’t remember what you expected; you’ve been so focused on completing the mission for so long. Did you want a desperate homecoming? Did you want him to grovel or worship at your feet? You think, at some point, you knew he’d push back, but you thought…maybe…he’d want you more.

Steve seems to turn his interest on and off so easily, which is great professionally but hard to read personally…or maybe you’re just struggling under the distracting hum of medication. It’s a white noise you can’t ignore, lulling you unconscious, so you can’t analyze the situation anymore. Maybe, you think, you try…but the thoughts don’t come.

He situates you on his side of the bed—to accommodate the cord and stand—and tucks himself quietly into the smallest corner of mattress that his bulk can fit on.

He falls asleep holding your hand. It’s the only place you two are connected. After nearly eighty-five hours apart, that’s still worth it. Maybe.

At some point, his hand goes limp and falls away.

Finally clear of mind, you keep watching Steve the next day. He doesn’t necessarily seem angry, and he doesn’t necessarily seem relieved either. He’s so robotic in his interactions. He won’t talk to you just at you.

You understand why he was so standoffish last night, but you thought Steve would surely want you after that. You thought he’d start touching you again.

You two waited so long for your first time, but after that, sex was relatively easy. Steve is an affectionate man when he’s allowed, when he’s in love, and you know he loves you.

Like the nurse said: all your tissue is fully healed. The only restrictions you have are in regards to field work, and the phantom jolts of pain—when you reach into a cabinet or take down a clothes hanger—aren’t real.

Steve’s always an arm’s length away, just in case, meaning he is there to help you.

Always an arm’s length away.

No closer. No farther.

That afternoon you attempt to start talking about your mission, but that’s when he moves.

Steve practically sprints out the door with a half-baked excuse, so you go to physical therapy alone. You can go alone. That’s not the problem.

If you thought talking to Steve was difficult, you weren’t ready for how hard touching Steve would be.

You try to initiate even a cuddle that second night, and he jumps up claiming to have forgotten something somewhere else that he promised someone. Your boyfriend can’t lie worth beans. You don’t know why he tries.

You’re asleep before he returns.

The next night is exactly the opposite. You spend longer at the gym, slowly and painstakingly repeating every single exercise you know in order to streamline these new muscles. It’s an unholy pain in the ass, but you do it because you can—and will—get back in the field.

Even though the workout was mild, you’re awash with that runner’s high when you return to find Steve passed out already. He looks so peaceful, brow relaxed and lips gently parted. He also looks, well, good enough to eat, but you’ll start slow.

There was one time early on, before you two went all the way, that you woke him up by grinding on him in your sleep. You think now, perhaps, you can recreate that, catch him off-guard and dissipate some of this tension between you. This would be a good release. You don’t normally go this long. Obviously, Steve wouldn’t have masturbated while you were MIA and possibly dead, and every other second since has been accounted for.

He practically can’t have sex anywhere else except naked in a bed. He’s even told you, point blank, that he feels no need to touch himself since he has you. You are what he wants. That’s what he said.

Except he doesn’t wake up to your advances. He just rolls over like you’re disturbing him and softly snores.

For the first time, you wonder if you’ve really broken the two of you. How long will he be mad at you for doing your job?

Steve rolls back over in his sleep, holding you close like nothing’s happened. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it, but it’s enough and so, so wonderful to imagine all is well.

About a week into your ‘recovery’ (which is sorta bullshit since you can do everything the same by now just with an occasional, faint twinge, no more than the strain of every workout, ever), Steve takes Sam Wilson up on his offer of 1-on-1 basketball for a while. The Team—minus you—has a raid planned in the morning, and there’s always nervous energy to burn off in anticipation.

Your boyfriend has been a nightmare grump, but no one wants to take on the hassle of convincing Steve that he’s being too Steve to Steve properly. He still won’t talk to you about anything other than the weather, food, or daily schedules.

You’re even considering taking a break from field work because this all has become too much. If Steve is gonna shut down after every dangerous mission—which is, in fact, all of them—then maybe it’s not worth the risk. You’re good, you’re great, but you aren’t super.

“Taste of his own medicine, I say,” Bucky mutters, sitting beside you on the bleachers between courts.

“Huh?” You were distracted, watching Steve and Sam squeak across the floor.

Steve sinks a perfect layup and doesn’t gloat. Do-gooder.

“He used to get so mad when I’d find him in an alley all beaten up,” Buck continues. “Thought I was being too protective. I trusted him, but he was puny and he did get sick all the time. He could take a punch, sure, but every mark took weeks to heal. Half the time, they were still yellow when some idiot landed fresh ones.”

Steve claps beneath the net, encouraging Sam, focused on not outshining anyone.

He’s been the same with everyone else but you, and the whole Team can see it. You shouldn’t be surprised someone is finally talking about it; you simply wonder how Buck drew the short straw.

“Didn’t wanna be babied,” Bucky snorts, fondly glowering at his century-long bestie, “while low and behold, he pulls that stunt with everybody, every day.”

“Yup,” you pop, looking at the matte metal beneath your feet, knowing there’s a line between the ‘caring’ version and the ‘coddling’ version. Steve nose-dived right over that line this time.

“What he appreciated, though, was consistency.” Bucky swivels his hair around into a bun and ties it. “Punk is dedicated, and even if it was just him--the hund’ed pound soaking-wet guy whose only real talent at that point was getting back on his feet--he knew he’d fight anyway.

“Bit hypocritical to be mad at his girl for doing the same, don’t ya think?” Bucky muses, clucking his tongue.

The brunette watches you bristle slightly at the moniker. His girl. Not only is it what got you into this mess, it feels untrue based on that big, broad, cold shoulder you’ve received from the man racing back and forth in front of you.

Smiling, Bucky nudges you with his elbow. “I’m excited for you to get back on your feet,” he adds.

You’re stuck thinking about that long after Bucky jumps into the game.

It’s no surprise then that when the doctor gives you the all-clear the very next morning, you’re over the moon and ready to strike. You don’t hesitate for a second when the alarm sounds less than an hour later.

The Team needs reinforcements. Your Team needs you.

You hustle into the back of a quinjet with a dozen agents. While the others file out to where the main conflict is raging, you sneak around the perimeter to suss out the mission goal, a treasure trove of enemy tech hidden somewhere in what was thought to be an abandoned village.

Not so abandoned if it’s lighting up like the pyrotechnics show on an action film set...

The explosions rattle the ground, yet you know the Team have breached the main chamber. Those enemy forces still fighting are distracting from a retreat. The other agents can catch them just fine. Your mission is intel recovery.

To keep your approach stealthy, you don’t announce your movements over comms, and Nat doesn’t scan back down the dark hallway you wedge into as she carries out an asset. If you weren’t so far back, you never would have seen him.

An enemy agent slinks out from behind a floor-to-ceiling tapestry right in front of you. His silhouette is short and thin; he’s built for stealth, too.

Your heart thumps loud in your ears as you follow, and that bastard gets close—so close—to Steve’s turned back that the pistol’s muzzle nearly touches.

Not this time. Not a chance. None.

You land a roundhouse kick to the exposed neck above his kevlar, and that sucker goes down like a sack of potatoes.

Steve turns around at the ready, stunned silent in the middle of his instructions to Bucky who is not visible from the other side heaped boxes. The papers still smoke where evidence was burned.

You salute at big, blue eyes.

“On your six, Cap.”

Steve looks at you, looks down at the man, and looks back up at you…pissed.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

What the fuck indeed…

All you did was help your team. All you did was stop Captain America from getting his head blown off. In no small fashion, all you did was save your boyfriend’s life.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

His grip on your arm is painful as he leads you all the way back to the jet himself, shoving you into the jump seat between other returned agents and shouting for you to 'stay right there.'

Bucky announces over comms that the rest is clean up. All but the specialized document interpretation and perimeter teams are moving out.

Steve huffs, contemplates staying on a battlefield instead of going back with you, but decides to sit across the ship in silence again, fuming, making fists over and over in his fingerless leather gloves, bitterly sniffing as loud as possible the entire flight home. He refuses to answer a single person until the jet touches down at HQ.

“Everyone off,” he bellows, “everyone except you.”

You can’t stop it. Your hands fly up in exaggerated annoyance automatically.

“What do you want, Steve? I got the go-ahead this morning. I’m allowed to be here.”

“Stop doing that.” He rounds on you.

“Doing what? My job?!”

Chest puffed out, feathers ruffled, cheeks hot and red, Steve peels off his cowl. “Being insubordinate.”

“You’re not my superior officer,” you hiss, “we are equals, and if you think for one second I did anything wrong out there, go ahead and report me. From where I’m standing, I did the work, got cleared for duty, helped out the team, and stopped you from being shot.”

You poke a finger to his chest for each achievement listed.

“Fine," Steve shouts, crossing his arms, "but quit acting like a selfish coward.”

Them be fightin’ words. “A what?”

“You heard me,” he all but whispers.

It’s laughable, truly laughable how bad Steve is at hiding some of those wheels from turning in his head. This isn’t about today. This is the thing he buried the past week.

You roll your eyes. “If you’re gonna throw a hissy fit every time I get a scratch—“

“THREE BULLETS IS NOT A SCRATCH.” He tries—he visibly, painfully tries—to keep his cool one last time. “You weren’t ready,” he concludes, judge, jury, and executioner all poured into one star-spangled package.

“Say’s who?” You’re stepping closer, getting in his face because this is bullshit and unfair. “Last time I checked you’re not a doctor, and you should be thanking me for saving your ass—“

“It’s not your job to save me.”

“We have the same job, Steve! We are both perfectly capable of—“

“I know that,” he barks, hot breath mingling with yours.

“Do you? Because you don’t seem to think I can handle myself.” You push weakly at his chest, taunting, like it's a game. “Maybe you need to walk it off, buddy.”

His face cracks, an avalanche unmoored from a stable mountain.

Oh shit. You’ve done it now.

“Walk it off?! WALK IT OFF?!”

Steve charges like a bull seeing red, crowding you against the far wall, his own derisive finger pointed at your heart.

“You were injured. You didn’t make contact. You went dark for days, and you could have died. Alone. In the middle of nowhere. Who knows how long it would have taken us to find you. No—“ he cups your chin in a tight pinch “—you want to talk about the job? It’s protocol to check in. It’s common courtesy to let me know you’re alive, and it’s goddamn rude to ignore your own safety.”

A dark, hazy sheen layers over his sharp gaze. “Don’t make me keep you home.”

There’s a deep line of frustration carved between his brows. His nostrils flair as he waits, daring you to refute him.

“Well—” you purse your lips in defiance “—isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”

Steve lets go of you, smacked away by your cutting tone.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, whatever, Rogers,” you dismiss. “We both know you don’t have the authority to bench me.”

“Like hell I don’t,” he growls, grabbing your wrists and throwing your arms above your head, He weaves your hands through the cargo net behind you. The loops are tight and complicated in seconds, he’s so fast.

You can’t wriggle away.

“Let’s see how you like it.”

Steve roughly throws the zipper of your uniform down, letting the jacket hang open to show nothing but your sports bra.

“Feeling paralyzed—“ he dexterously undoes your belt “—exposed—“ your pants and underwear are yanked down to your ankles “—and afraid.” His last word thickens the air on the jet.

How can this man launch you into unbridled lust in the space of two syllables?

Who. Fucking. Cares. How.

Steve’s fingertips teasingly glide over the swell of your breasts, brush down your belly, and tick their way in a casual walk between your legs. He retracts his touch the instant you let out a longing sigh, unable to restrain how needy you are. His fingers wander to perfectly clean and unmarked flesh…on your thigh, along one side, and a few inches below that. He’s tracing the bullet wounds he watched heal so quickly.

“Maybe I should leave you wondering how it’ll all play out?” he says absently, lost in thought, his thumb shifting to notch into the dip of your hip. “Maybe I should leave you wondering if we’ll ever—”

“Yes,” you whimper, no real idea what you’re saying. That’s not what answer you meant.

“How would you like three whole days of this feeling, huh? You think you’d fare any better than I did? Think you’d make it even five minutes?”

“Uh-uh.” Again, with no clue what you’re truly responding to, you buck your hips forward onto his long fingers.

The cords around your wrists get tighter while you struggle to set a pace. Behind you, the metal rings of the netting hit the hull with a soft clinking noise.

“Not so fast.” Steve pulls his hand away just far enough to remove all friction. “Because three days, sweetheart, it was torture. Felt like an eternity right on the edge.”

“Please,” you beg.

One deliberate swipe of his fingers through your slick is enough to make you mewl.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Steve. Please, I need you.”

“Need me? You have an odd way of showing it, doll. You have to promise me—“ he thrusts his fingers in “—promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I’ll never leave you,” you cry, convinced that it’s true for the sole reason: you never want to experience anything other than this Steve for as long as you live.

“You are so brave, and so…capable, and I know you can do anything, but you…can’t survive anything.” He takes excruciating pleasure in slow thrusts and teasing circles. “Promise me you won’t be so reckless. Promise, say it.”

“I promise.” Your weight sags into his ministrations, called to focus on nothing but where his hand disappears between you. “I promise I won’t be reckless.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your head falls limp against your tied arms. It sounds so good from his lips. Why did you ever doubt?

“I promise I’ll come back to you,” you manage out like a prayer.

“Yeah? That’s it. Is that what you want?”

“I promise. I promise, Steve.” You time your movements sloppily with his measured tempo. “Please, I need more.”

“I know. I know.” He’s strung out, too, listening to your pathetic whimpers after less than five minutes, exactly like he predicted.

You’re so over-wrought with desperation you can’t coordinate with his manhandling your legs apart—your knees, really, since your ankles are still caught in your pants. Instead of taking off your boots, Steve simply unzips himself and dives right into your wet, warm, and welcoming pussy.

Knowing he has a thing against anything naughty in his suits makes it sexier. You want his intensity—you’ve always been curious—and finally you have it: unhinged, untethered, super Steve Rogers. Your body makes room out of sheer joy.

“I know,” Steve coos, his face pressed to your chest as he adjusts. “Fuck, I know, honey.”

“Move, Steve.”

“No,” he says with a gentle kiss to your sternum. “You wanna come? Go ahead. You can do it all on your own. You can do anything you want, can’t ya?”

You groan in frustration.

You wanted this, an annoying voice in the muddled depths of your mind calls. You’re independent.

With a sob of both excitement and fury, your thighs weld onto that sturdy, I-beam beast. You brace your bent arms over your angled and hovering body, leveraging the cargo straps to hoist you up and down.

Your muscles burn, strained more than they were on your lone journey back to HQ.

Steve grunts and moans, the ghost of his wide spread palms beneath your back as a safety net.

“That’s it. That’s it, good girl.”

Amidst your own noises, you can barely hear him. You’re not building to a climax, you’re falling into one at terminal velocity, flailing. Struggling to hang on and let go all at once, you do come, but it’s more of a plateau than a full release.

Steve’s unhappy and takes your ass in a bruising grip, finally pumping his thick length in and out, dragging the head of his cock across that perfect spot over and over.

“You can do better than that,” he snarls, hair wrecked and falling in his face.

Wave, undertow, and wave again, pleasures simply blend into the next. He gets handsy, keyed up and out of control, muttering “don’t you ever fucking leave me.”

You’d scold him for cursing if the air weren’t being punched from your lungs.

“Come on, sweetheart. Three for three.”

You’re almost disappointed he only wants you to come three times in payment for his days of torture. Even as a tear escapes the corner of your eye and your throat breaks in a hoarse “please,” you know you would give him more. You'd give him anything.

When you finally reach that shattering end, Steve is almost incoherently feral, one hand clamped at the back of your neck, the other anchored to the small of your back, slamming your ass to his leather-covered thighs like you are his mission.

“I promise,” you try to repeat, but you aren’t sure they sound like words.

Whether in response to you or as an errant thought, Steve’s own broken voice rattles at your sweaty neck. “You can take it,” he whispers gruffly. “You can take it.”

You’re floating by the time he comes, his hips stilling slowly. The buzz of your body now outdoes anything anesthesia or pain meds concocted.

Steve peppers your skin with lazy, light kisses until you remind him of your bound wrists, but then he’s overly apologetic and scrambling to free them.

He keeps himself inside you and maneuvers to sit with you on his lap.

You stay there for a while, your numb and sore arms folded between your chests. Steve only stops petting your shoulders to cradle your face, soft blue eyes roaming, adoring. He whispers concern that you’re okay, how are your legs, are you warm enough, you feeling good?

Yes, you think, you’ve taken care of your girl.

“I love seeing you like this,” he mumbles long after the pins and needles have abandoned their assault on your tired legs.

You tuck some silky hair behind his ear. “Like what? Fucked out?”

He’s floating too because he doesn’t chastise.

“Happy, healthy—“ he lets out a deep sigh “—home.”

“Speaking of home,” you say, inching ever so slightly higher to let him slide out of you, “wanna cuddle in bed all night and not get up until someone tries to break in the door?”

That knocks some of the glow off him. He drags a hand down his face. “Oh god, the poor people who have to clean this thing…”

“Let’s be honest,” you snort. “This isn’t the worst thing that’s been on you, but if it’s that big of a deal, we could go hose you down before handing our equipment in.”

He smiles, shaking his head in dismissal.

With his help, you climb off his lap and slowly shimmy up your bottoms, realizing he did truly make a mess of you both.

Steve looks down at his own lap, horrified. “Do I need to burn this?”

“That sounds like a challenge to make you filthier,” you consider, but maybe you should change into your civies before exiting the jet…

“Ya know,” Steve muses, passing over to the small locker of clothing overhead and grabbing a t-shirt and sweats, “I almost got shot in the head today, and you had three bullets fished outta you a week ago. I’m thinking we’ve earned a vacation.”

Workaholic Steve? Actively applying for time off? You’ll be damned.

“My my my, Captain Rogers…the real dirty talk begins.”

He huffs out a laugh and blushes.

“Well, I know we didn’t do anything more special than dinner for our anniversary, so…” He pulls you to his chest again, smelling of slightly musty laundry and pungent sex. “Let’s go on a fucking vacation.”

Your neck cranes to his height to see a soft smile. Oof, he’s good.

“I missed you,” he adds like a prayer, “and you’re the badass who saved me.”

He giggles at your scrunched nose and watches you bask in that glory.

“Like I said, you’re welcome—“ you hug Steve, letting his warmth radiate through you, moving in time with his rising and falling chest “—and I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He kisses the crown of your head.

When you open the bombay doors, there’s a thermos left at the base of the ramp, a folded paper tucked beneath it.

We should talk about how to better soundproof the jets. Brought you some refreshments. It’s hazelnut. ~Bucky

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jamneuromain @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @brandycranby

A/N: I sincerely give up on editing this anymore, so I hope it turned out okay 🙇🏻‍♀️

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#shy anon #ro answers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #old dog new tricks #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader smut #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america angst #captain america smut

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oletus-writer · 11 months

Note

Heyy can I have Wu Chang, Mary and Joseph reacting to their s/o giving their mini pet versions more love and affection then them? They think the pets are too cute to not give attention to

Sorry if I made any mistakes English isn’t my first language :)

I do believe I’ve seen people write for Joseph’s pet receiving more attention than him, but here’s my shot at this.

Wu Chang, Mary, and Joseph getting jealous of their mini versions

Warnings: slight jealousy

Xie Bi’an

At first, he thought the fact that you had a mini Wu Chang as your pet was pretty cute, until you began giving it more affection than you gave him.

Of course, he was happy that you were happy, but the bitter pangs of jealousy began creeping up on him.

‘Qin ai de - ah, you’re playing with your pet again... Well, please don’t let me disturb you.’

He wanted to say something else, but left as you hugged the mini Wu Chang to your chest.

He’d plan dates with only you and him (and Wujiu, if you were also dating him) and amp up the sulking if you had brought your pet with you.

‘Ah, I thought I had specified that this date was only for you and me, but you brought it along… it looks like you love it more than me.’ But of course, this was in a joking tone, no matter how he felt.

Expect a lot more of romantic gestures and pampering, as if he was saying ‘I don’t understand why you give the pet more attention than you give me. Look - I can treat you better.’

Fan Wujiu

Unlike Bi’an, he was kind of annoyed that you had a mini version of him. What to cuddle him? Just ask. Want children? Well, that would be quite a conversation. Everything the mini version of him could do, he could do better.

So, when he saw you pampering the pet more than you gave attention to him, he was quite infuriated. Marching towards you, he snatched it from your hands.

‘Give me affection, then I’ll give you back your pet.’

While his directness can be appreciated, sometimes it would be too much. You explained that it was a harmless pet, and that you were comforting it because it was sad you got chaired first.

Hearing this, Wujiu calmed down and stroked the head of the mini him thoughtfully. ‘I did not expect these tiny things to be capable of feeling emotions. How interesting.’

Still, he’d prefer you go to him immediately after matches, especially since you could potentially get injured.

Mary

Sometimes, Mary would get pretty insecure - was she a good girlfriend? There were many other good candidates in the manor, yet you still stuck by her side. She was sure that you would eventually leave her, so seeing a little pet that looked like her to keep you company reassured her a little bit.

That was until you began giving it more affection than you gave her.

She saw an example of this in a match you had with her - you had asked her not to go easy on you, so she obliged, leading you to be chaired. You were comforting the shivering mini Mary, which made the former queen quite displeased.

‘How dare you! You are my lover first, and then the owner of that pet second. Now, as we wait for your teammates to rescue you, shall we have a lovely chat?’

Slightly puzzled, you were rescued by your teammate and Mary continued to chase you.

Be prepared for intense courting, European style, after you finish every match. She can’t stand someone else sweeping you off your feet, even if it’s a mini version of her.

‘Ma chere/mon cher, I had Emma pick the best flowers for you. Now be a dear and let me braid these in your hair/make you a flower crown.’

Joseph

The Frenchies are very similar in how they react to your pet. How lovely of you to have a little remainder of him every where you go! To By God, why are you giving it more attention than you give him?

He’ll also attempt to win your attention by going on more extravagant dates, and all in all spending more time with you.

‘Beau, would you like for me to show you some recipes that… Claude and I used to enjoy? Can you bring your pet? No, I’m afraid it may cause a mess.’

Out of your sight, he’d be rather petty with his mini version. From glaring to knocking if off the table, he’s not going to accept another competitor. Of course, he’d stop if you asked, begrudgingly, but be sure to reassure him that he’ll be the only one in your eyes.

#identity v #identity v x reader #idv x reader #wu chang x reader #xie bian x reader #fan wujiu x reader #idv mary #idv mary x reader #idv joseph x reader #joseph desaulnier x reader #idv

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absolutebl · 6 months

Text

This Week in BL - Gangsters Win

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Delayed October reviews included this week! (Still traveling but now in home territory and familiar hotels.)

Nov 2023 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) 2 of 8 - GIVING ME LIFE. How dare they be this… this... Just. How dare!

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 1 of 10 - I have been waiting for another truly sports centered BL since HIStory 2: CTL. This is nowhere near as good, but I don’t care. It’s great pulp and Sprite is a fab central character. I've realized that I love the pulps most when they’re ridiculously soapy (identical twins identity trope for sport’s fuck’s sake) but ERNEST about it (not campy). This one is taking itself seriously and it's so cute that it's trying so hard. Good little pulp. Dee mar.

Dangerous Romance (Fri YT) ep 12fin - was it me or did this show kinda flag on you too?

Poor, struggling Sailom is forced to tutor his bully, Kang, and they fall for each other despite circumstances. I loved it for the first 4 eps, liked it for the middle 4, and then kinda lost interest. I think it's because the focus shifted from Sailom to Kang, and I just find a disenfranchised character more interesting than the poor little rich kid archetype. Ultimately the script waffled and failed these actors - the leads and sides were solid, and support cast on point. 8/10 pretty standard 2023 GMMTV fair

Absolute Zero (Thai Weds iQIYI) ep 6 of 12 - It’s sort of a paradox of emotions not just time. It remains sad and I remain wary.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) The Camp Fire ep 11 of 24 - Launched with an argument over rude pronouns and mistaken identity. Highlights the joy of camping. Ugh. I don't think this one is for me despite the pair.

Venus in the Sky (Tues iQIYI) ep 10fin - NO SINGING. I can't believe they brought in rando SIDEs just to sing! WHHHHYYYYY? Sigh.

An indifferent pulp with indifferent acting and poor chemistry (despite high heat) based on the reunion romance trope that was just... so... slow... It wasn’t entirely a waste of time but I can’t in good faith recommend it. unless you have a very high tolerance for Thai pulps and ultra tsundere characters. 5/10 ONLY WATCH IF YOU'VE NOTHING BETTER TO DO

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Kiseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Tues Viki & iQIYI) ep 12 of 13 - I don’t mean to be rude because you know I love the main couple in the show, but they are simply being out acted by the sides. They are so damn good. Ai Di and his dumb oversized sweaters and flappy flappy sleeves is EVERYTHING.

Bump Up Business (Korea Gaga) 5-6 of 8 - More language negotiation, so of course I like it. I also like that they openly let Eden admit to a crush on a boy. I like this whole thing way more than I should. Save me from myself?

You Are Mine (Taiwan Fri Viki) eps 9 of 10 - I don’t understand why baby boy is trying to escape so badly. (Except for plot reasons.) Running of the gays! Look at you Taiwan stealing Japan’s favorite trope. This show is fun but it’s a bag of tropes held together with some very thin fraying mesh plot.

If It’s With You AKA Even If I Fall In Love With You AKA Kimi to nara Koi wo Shite Mite mo’ (Japan Gaga) ep 5fin - The leads are so painfully cute portraying a softly simple story of teen first love. This was a nice little piece with an early yaoi feel that come off as brief, as if it were meant to be a short story that had been extended into a series. Sweet but ultimately rather forgettable. 7/10

Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 6-7 of ? - yeah I forgot to watch again, I may be dnfing this by accident.

It's Airing But...

I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan Tues Netflix-Japan & ????) - in classic JBL fashion, I Cannot Reach You could not be reached. It looks good though so I mgiht put some effort into finding it grey.

Look at Japan dropping all the tropes in on scene: rooftop, kabedon, hand hold.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 1-7 of 14 - this is a horror BL with ghosts & paranormal elements in a boarding school setting. I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all). It features Singto (who did paranormal BL He's Coming to Me) opposite Fluke N (who's done a couple horror's before). Also Fiat. Dan suffers from sleep paralysis, and in his dreams he sees a shadow that suffocates him. It gets worse when he transfers schools. I'm holding off on this one and if told it's good I'll binge watch.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) - adaptation of Harada’s manga of the same name (which I did not like) about a convenience store clerk who's stabbed, nearly dies, and returns home to find an angel waiting for him. With only 5 eps and a good chance this won’t end happy, I'm gonna wait and let you tell me how it goes.

Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine? AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? (Japan cinema release in-country only) - This one is a movie from Japan so in customary fashion who tf knows when (or if) it will get international distribution. Salaryman Ayumu Koiwai just can't tear his eyes away from the strong, muscular man as he checks on the stocks of the vending machine in his office. I did some hunting but only found the manga, so I'm marking it cnf and moving on with life. This will be its last appearance on the weekly update.

I Finished It!

Love in Translation (iQIYI) ep 8 - solid ending, man these two are a great pairing.

A sweet little pulp about a Thai boy with a crush on a Chinese influencer who ends up in a business relationship with her ex-bf. This show had truly great chemistry between the leads, cute found family with good rep, and an exciting (if silly) ending that almost, but didn't quite, make up for how incredibly annoying the main character was in the first half. Gotta say the make-out scene in the convenience store is one of the greatest in Thai BL, tho. 6/10 DEF WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED

I Feel You Linger in the Air (grey) ep 8 of 12 - so that was A THING. I did a seriously extensive deep dive analysis, historical & linguistic extras, and review here.

I truly loved this time travel romance. IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but no as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy BL… from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show should easily have earned a 10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls. Argh. Whatever. 9/10

Only Friends (YT) ep 11-12 - What can I say, this wasn't my thing, it was never gonna be, and I didn't like it. Basically Thailand did the L-Word but with branded BL pairs and the only agenda seemed to be slut shaming and making sure those pairs stayed healthy and sponsor ready. Consequently, the pairs were all executing well and to the best of their ability (of course) but all other characters got shafted, both in the good and the worst possible ways. Unrated but if falls somewhere between 5 (hot mess) and 3 (what am I doing with my life?)

Next Week Looks Like This

11/10 Middleman’s Love (Thai Fri Mandee's YT & iQIYI 1 of 8? - TutorYim (brand pair origin = Cutie Pie) with side couple KingUea (Bed Friends) from Domundi trailer here. This used to be a JimmyTommy vehicle before the pair split (also prev title Middle Love). Adapted from a Y-novel. Jade works as a graphic designer and has always been stuck in the middle - average. His heart is hardened after a life spent being overlooked because he is not as charming or good looking as the rest of his family or friends. When his office gets a hot new intern, Mai, Jade assumes Mai couldn’t possibly be intersted in him. Mai, of course, has other ideas. Warning this is a Cheewin comedy so tonally it could be very OFF, but the cast is solid, and I have liked his stuff on occasion.

11/10 Last Twilight (Thai Fri YouTube) - JimmySea are bakc and maybe it's good this time? I dont' know, GMMTV isn't doing great right now. Burdened with heavy debt, Mork, a mechanic, is forced to take a high paying job as a caretaker for Day, a rich heir who suffers from partial blindness after an accident. Day recruits Mork as he realizes the latter does not see him as a disabled person, but rather as co-equals. As they spend time together, the two begin developing feelings for the other. However with Day just having 180 days until he becomes permanently blind, how will the two weather the trials ahead?Upcoming November BL

11/11 Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) qp 1 of 8 - Looks like House of Stars meets Boyband. I am not excited.

Upcoming in November

11/16 PLAYBOYY (Thurs ????) ?? eps - trailer here, high heat and it's helmed by Cheewin (shudder) with screenplay by Den (Only Friends) under Copy A Bangkok. It's gonna be a shizz show people. It's predicting Thai style "dark" (War of Y) one of my least favorites. Apparently there is a "plot" but when has Cheewin ever bothered with plot? A university kid who was involved with escorts, sex-trade, porn, online hook-ups, drugs, prostitution, blackmail, revenge, and so forth goes missing. His twin (sigh) and two friends look for him.

11/17 Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 14 - high heat teaser here, based on alittlebixth's omegaverse novel #พิษเบ๊บ’ set in the world of car racing (author says show will not be omegaverse). Charlie (fresh face), a young hot nerd, approaches his driver idol (Pavel "my love" 2 Moons 2) to borrow a racing car and win one for the team. Production house is new to BL but behind the Club Friday stuff. Show stars many known actors: Nut (Oxygen), Pop (Ram in La Cuisine), Pon (Phai in Gen Y, we LOVE him), Benz (twins in En of Love: This Is Love Story).

11/19 Bake Me Please (Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - trailer here, stars Ohm (of OhmFluke) opposite Guide (bestie from IFYLITA) and possibly also Poom (well known, but not for BL). This looks like an actually gay version of Antique Bakery (play it again, BL). Still, I'm intrigued, it looks HELLA pretty.

11/22 7 Days Before Valentine (Weds ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk. Adapted from y-novel of the same name, directed by Tu (180 Degree) stars Jet (Why You… Y Me?). When you want your old love again, but fate sends you a reaper instead. All he can do for you is kill people. I'll likely give this a pass and wait to binge later. I'm planning to try SHADOW and I can only handle one Thai horror at a time.

11/25 The Sign (Sat ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk, but with a suspense and adult characters. Special investigators who loved each other in previous lives reunite with their new bodies, stars Billy Patchanon (BillySeng) & Babe Tanatat (new). Includes other SCOY favorites as a special investigation team. I may give this a try because I like the non-horror bits.

11/26 The Whisperer (Sun ????) 1 of 10 - trailer here. Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even that gives me the will. Maybe a binge for me.

11/26 Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - OffGun are back, trailer here. Adapted from the novel “Love Course! เสื้อกาวน์รุกเสื้อกุ๊กรับ” by iJune4S this is about Prem who runs a not-so-popular restaurant with 2 friends. About to go on a cooking competition with a huge reward, Prem gets involved with Ten, a stressed-out med student who wants Prem to teach him to cook.

11/30 For Him (Thurs ????) ep 1 of 10 - high heat trailer, I suspect iQIYI will scoop this one up. From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night (please no) based on a y-novel, man nursing a heartbreak has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. It looks terribly trashy so I'm in! Maybe I'll do a trash watch?

VIP Only (Taiwan) - may be delayed/canceled

Wuju Bakery AKA Space Bakery (Korea) - this one may be DOA

A Breeze of Love (Korea) - I know less than nothing about this.

Nov 2023 line up with screen caps here. Not kept updated.

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Yang's little smile! Argh. (Love in Translation)

This is our mean and grumpy gagster character talking about playing in game support roles. It's fucking adorable. Such a nasty criminal. (My Dear Gangster Oppa)

(Last week)

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parrythisucasual · 6 months

Note

If it's not too much trouble, May i request a sweetheart Plush Fem!Reader x Jax where the reader going through a panic attack episode? Maybe Jax has to stop them from pulling apart their seams as he calms them down. (I'm such a sucker for hurt/comfort.)

Jax x Plush! Fem! Reader

Hope you enjoy!!!

You were shaking, breathing heavily despite the lack of need to. You felt tears pool in your eyes. This was way too much. Being in the circus was already mentally straining- why did Caine have to make this the next adventure?!

In honor of “human Halloween” Caine had created an AI to hunt everyone down, slasher movie style. You��d locked yourself in your room, hidden under your bed, and sobbed.

You let out a cry of terror as you hear footsteps draw closer. You know you cant die, you know you cant get hurt… But that doesnt stop you from being horrified. You bite your arm to shut yourself up, tearing a hole in your fleece.

The knob jiggles, and your breathing only gets more rapid, more shallow. You’re on the verge of passing out when you hear the lock click. The door swings open, revealing not the slasher AI, but Jax. His eyes fell on you almost instantly, the smug look sliding off his face faster than you’ve ever seen.

“(Y/N)!” he hurried to you, uncharacteristically worried, “what happened?” he pulled you out from under the bed. You grabbed him, crying into his chest. You could care less it was Jax, you just needed someone.

“Th-Th-the killer-!” you sobbed, shaking so hard you nearly fell over. Jax steadied you, frowning, “That scared you that bad?” He led you to yur bed to sit you down, “It’s over, okay? You won.”

You didn’t care about winning. You didn’t care at all. But the knowledge that it was over made your entire body tingle with relief.

“What’s this…?” Jax asked suddenly, reaching out and lifting your torn arm, “did… you do this to yourself?” You sniffled, nodding a bit, “I-I didn’t want to be heard-” “(Y/N), don’t-”

He hugged you. He reached out and hugged you. You were in shock, momentarily forgetting how worked up you were. Was Jax… crying…? This was insane. This wasn’t the egotistical rabbit you knew. This was… the guy he was hiding.

Your arms wrap around his waist, squeezing slightly, “I-I’m sorry,” you mumble, leaning into him more. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he drew in a shaky breath, reaching to rub your hair, “I’m sorry-” “Ot’s okay, I’m okay now, I promise!”

You smile a bit, this soft side of Jax making your non-existant heart flutter. Jax relaxes, returning your smile with one of his own, “Well, good,” he attempted to regain some part of his usual composure, “...you wanna get patched up?”

You nod and point to your desk, “Top drawer,” and he retrieves your sewing kit, threading a needle expertly. “You’ve sewn before?” you question, lifting your arm so he could begin the repair. He half shrugged, “Ragatha taught me once, said it was useful and I had to know how. I thought it was stupid,” he finishes the stitches and snips the thread, “well, until now of course.”

A small smile played on your lips, but he looked away. At first you thought you’d upset him, until you noticed the dusting of light pink on his cheeks. You laughed softly.

“Thank you.”

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax #tadc jax x reader #the amazing digital circus jax

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issacballsac · 9 months

Text

“Being Apart of The Sk8 Crew„

Just rewatched Sk8 the infinity and now I wish I had friends so ! Gn reader

Joe | “I wanna marry your abs!”

Y’all would meet your first time at S

Obviously you’d be amazed by his skating and even if u don’t like men he’s hot as hell bro don’t lie

One of two things happens

You A. Run up to him and ask abt his skating techniques and such

Or B. He actually walks up to you to talk about your skating(only if ur good ofc💀)

He’s such a dad

If you’re younger than him he’s constantly trying to sound smart/give you wisdom

Sometimes it’s solid advice the other times it’s pure nonsense

If you like to cook/want to learn he’ll happily teach you

If not he’ll settle for a new taste tester

He would def make jokes all the time

Some genuinely funny

He expects you to laugh at all of them even if it wasn’t funny

He’d appreciate it if you didn’t cock block him like everyone else

Despite being quick to take off his shirt he’s very fashionable and takes pride in his looks obviously

If you ever needed fashion advice best go to him!

He’s a pretty laid back guy so you wouldn’t get into arguments often

Would love to skate everywhere but he’s like…got a job and responsibilities so..

Still a great dad friend to have

Honestly would care and worry over you if you got into some dumb shit so don’t do anything stupid and he won’t worry

Joe for the win🗣️‼️

Cherry/Kaoru | A.I. Advancement

You’d meet when he paid a visit to Joe’s restaurant

Ofc you knew of him bc he’s popular but you never MET Kaoru

You def walked in on their date arguing

It was so awkward u were jus like:🧍‍♂️

“Is this a bad time time to visit you?”

“Hey! Kaoru this is [ ], the kid I was talking about.”

“What a peculiar child to willingly hang around you.”

“Whatever you say, Pinky.”

He’s kinda weird with his whole AI stuff but other than that a great friend

Makes snarky comments with you

Unless ur too nice to make snide remarks

Constantly complains abt the angle of your turns

Unironically would show up at your parent teacher conferences(if you’re still in the lower schooling ofc)

Would never admit it but he loves each of his friends and would be genuinely concerned if anything happened

Shadow | Petty Clown

Oh when y’all met you wanted to throw hands

I imagine something similar to his introduction with Reki

Bro straight up threw an explosive in your face???(smoke bomb maybe but still)

He may be petty but you’re pettier(is that even a word?💀)

You found out he worked at a flower shop bc lets be FR he doesn’t look much different outside of S

Lil arguments here lil threats there and you leave with a nice assortment of flowers

Bro side eyes you EVERYTIME y’all cross paths at S😭

After the whole gang is assembled y’all no longer act this way towards one another

Bros the only responsible adult of this group

He def did your makeup once and you broke out the next day💀

“Are you sure you know what you’re doin’?”

“Trust me, kid.”

“I don’t know why but I don’t.”

You try and help him with his relationship endeavors but it never works out😭

He’ll go to the gym with you if you don’t wanna go alone

Gym bros‼️🗣️

Miya | Catty Child

This fucker

Y’all are quite the duo

Annoying ass mfs whenever and wherever you go

If you have any sort of pet it’s his pet now

Bros the animal whisperer

He’d have to be interested in your skating for y’all to become friends

So pretend ur decent or even amazing; however big ur delusion allows itself to be🫡

He’s smart but would invite you somewhere under the premise of studying just to goof around

If he needs a second player for his game bro is gonna drag your ass so y’all can play

Goes shopping with you just to complain about how everything is ugly in the stores

“That’s not cute, who thought selling this was a good idea?”

“Bitch—if you’re going to be negative the whole time go home‼️”

Reki | Redheaded Menace

If you thought you + Miya was a devious duo just imagine you and Reki

Y’all would prob meet second after you and Joe met

Bc he works at a skate shop

And you need skating stuff(you can tell I’m not a skater💀)

If you’re just a good skater and don’t know actual science and shit behind it he’s constantly telling you about it like you care

You guys cruise around together for fun

He made your current board and you’ll never get another one that’s not from him

You teach him any and all tricks/skills you know

Probably took you to his house to give you your current board bc he was working on it in his house and you met all of his family

His mom is just happy he’s got some friends

You become besties with his mom

She gossips abt news and celebrities with you

Claims ur like her other child(forget the rest of them👺)

Makes you lunch bc she’s nice like that

You let him ramble abt stuff he’s interested in even if you aren’t listening fully

Would silently beg you to stay back with him during the hot spring scavenge bc he’s scared

Forces you to watch horror movies with him bc he gets scared and needs someone else with him

Bro would be elated the whole day if you called him cool

Snow/Langa | Canadian Curiosity

Omg he’s Canadian?😦 Seize him!

Obviously being involved with S you would’ve heard of Snow but Reki would’ve introduced y’all before the big news

Bro would shove him in your face as if he’s a shiny trophy(at the beginning ofc)

“This is Langa! New guy from my class apparently he’s interested in skating.”

“Sick—he’s so pale.”

“He’s from Canada.”

“Oh.”

Bro is so oblivious it’s crazy

You gotta like SPELL IT OUT for him if you’re ever alluding to smth

Langa stays hungry and would go out to eat with you anytime

You and Reki would def help him decorate his room bc it’s…bland

It’s not bad but there’s no personality

He tells you abt his favourite dishes back in Canada and y’all try and locate any places in Japan that might sell smth similar

If not you guys attempt to make it yourselves at his house

His mom walks in on y’all ruining the kitchen💀

“Langa I’m…home.”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey Langa’s Mom!”

Bro is a skating addict and will skate whenever and wherever

Wants to race you like at least twice every week

Loser pays for dinner

You help him with his reading and writing and if you didn’t already know he’d teach you English

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3d-wifey · 8 months

Text

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 2

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 4.2k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! A/N: Don't be scared to click the embedded links, you might get an auditory surprise (Ai voice cloning works wonders)

Past (ii) - You

[16 & 17] - THE CAPITOL

The man before you has a ten-year streak of picking which tribute will win. Or, at least, that’s what he’s been claiming for the past twenty minutes or so. He said it has something to do with a lot of strategic planning and background research, but at this point, he could say it had something to do with the phases of the moon and you’d still nod along. You had tried to listen closely when he first started talking, but—well, okay, that’s a lie. Everything these Capitols say goes in one ear and out the other. Actually, it doesn’t even make it as far as the first ear.

“I know how it sounds, but it’s definitely more than luck, I can assure you.” His hand catches your shoulder in his attempt to hold your very fleeting attention, trailing down your back more and more in his excitement. “Well, I won’t bore you with the details, they might be a touch too complicated for you to understand.” He laughs and you smile coyly, sidestepping his touch. You’re no stranger to the heavy-handed petting of men and women with ulterior motives, no matter how innocent they try to play it off as being at first.

It’s nighttime in the arena, and most of the tributes are getting a spare few hours of sleep before the nightmare continues. Meaning this watch party has turned into an actual party. Honestly, you don’t even know how you got trapped in a conversation with this guy.

You sip delicately from your straw, eyes roaming over the room of mingling bodies and wall-length screens depicting the games live—eager to look at literally anything but him. And that’s when you spot him: your saving grace walking by himself with his hands in his pockets.

You make eye contact with Finnick and smile, waving him over. He only hesitates for a split second, but it’s long enough that you worry he’ll leave you to fend for yourself. A fear that’s only abated when he calls out your name and approaches with a mystified grin.

“Finn!” Thank god. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” You exclaim in the most sickeningly saccharine Capitol voice you can muster. He stares with wide blue-green eyes, bemusedly mouthing ‘Finn?’ at you but you ignore him in favor of turning back to the man who somehow looks more starstruck than before.

“I’m sorry, but Finnick here promised me a dance.” You explain, pulling an excuse out of your ass. You loop your arm with Finnick’s, practically hanging off of him, and you hope beyond hope that Finnick is good at reading social cues. It should be obvious, right? You’re a big neon sign flashing ‘HELP ME’ in no uncertain terms.

“I did?” He asks, clearly confused at such a friendly greeting, but you stare up at him pleadingly and you must be projecting enough distress that he gets the memo. His back straightens in understanding and he smiles at the other man. “I did. But you know us victors, as slippery as an eel.” The other man lets out a flustered laugh. Finnick tilts his head as the band starts up. “Oh, I love this song. You don’t mind, do you? Thanks.”

You only have a few seconds to wonder what the hell an eel is before Finnick takes your glass out of your hand and hands it over to the sputtering man.

Your arms are still looped together as he leads you to the area where the other couples have decided to dance.

“May I have this dance?” He teases and you get a strong sense of déjà vu.

“Well, we’re already here, aren’t we?” You laugh. You loop your arms behind his neck, and big hands grab either side of your waist.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” He sighs, any chance of him being serious is shattered by his smirk.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow before raising to touch your hairline when he spins you.

“You know; you being a damsel in distress, and me saving you by being dashingly handsome and charming.” He clears his throat obnoxiously and puffs up his chest playfully. You’re sure if his hands were free he’d stretch to flex his muscles.

“Mhm,” You hum doubtfully. “Those are…certainly words that could be said with your name in the same sentence.”

“...I think that’s the most roundabout way anyone has ever insulted me before.” His jaw drops before he grins down at you in amused surprise. You laugh at his face, sobering up a little.

“But thank you, Finnick. Seriously. I’m sorry I keep relying on you to pull me out. It’s just…” You don’t know what else to do.

“No, it’s alright. It’s fun, honestly. We rarely get to exercise the little authority we have over them.” His mouth shrugs instead of his shoulders, an endearing motion. “Better enjoy it while you can, right?’’

You nod.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He straightens up subtly as your probing stare looks him up and down. “Don’t take this the wrong way. You look great, but you don’t really seem like a suit kind of guy.” There’s nothing about his outward appearance that gives away how uncomfortable he is, but you only need to talk to him for a few minutes to know this isn’t the sort of thing he’d choose to wear. Not that he looks bad in it; far from it. The coat is tailored to sinch at his waist and a few buttons of his undershirt are undone. The color of the jacket complements his skin tone quite well and the little pocket square makes his eyes pop.

“Thank you. Try telling that to my prep team.” He rolls his eyes. “Apparently, telling them I feel like a circus monkey playing dress up isn’t enough to dissuade them, so I might need a second opinion.”

Circus? "Wait, you’ve seen a monkey before?” You ask in awed disbelief. His mouth moves wordlessly at your enthusiasm.

“Well…not in person, per se.”

Past (ii) - Finnick

[16 & 17] - THE NEXT DAY

Finnick pours the rest of his drink into one of the potted plants he walks past, unbuttoning his suit coat once he's out of sight. This really is the last time he's letting his stylist dress him up in this getup. He rubs his temple in an attempt to soothe his growing migraine. As far as he's concerned, his job here is done. He has no reason to keep watching the games. His tributes already died. He pushes the doors open to the wide balcony and stops in his tracks. Of the many things Finnick expects to find out here, your crying isn't one of them. His first thought is that you're mourning your tributes. His second thought is that Snow got to you. It's an odd time for Snow to drop that kind of proposition on you. There are too many people here, too open for that kind of conversation. He scratches that out and circles back to his first thought. When he wasn't busy rubbing elbows with sponsors, he was keeping an eye out for your tributes. Switching periodically from his kids to yours and he can't, for the life of him, explain why. They got pretty far, considering they were malnourished and had no combat training. The boy got crushed under a tree after an earthquake and the girl stayed with him until he died. Though, it wasn't long before a Career shot an arrow through her head. The balcony door shuts behind him, and you whip around. Neither of you says anything as you rush to wipe your face. There’s an awkward lull as you both silently assess each other. "If you tell me it gets easier, I will push you off this balcony." He doesn't answer immediately, instead taking a moment to look at you. God, you're beautiful. Even now, wiping away your tears and your hurt, you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He doesn’t say any of that. "I wasn't going to." He raises his hands placatingly. He waits for you to tell him to leave, but the demand never comes. He almost offers to but decides against it for no other reason than not wanting to leave you out here alone. Instead, he moves closer and leans against the railing. It's quiet between you both as you try to hide your tears. He looks at you from the corner of his eye a few times and scratches an eyebrow with his thumb. It’s odd to think the two of you were laughing and enjoying each other’s company only yesterday. "I cried in a supply closet the first time my kids died." He glances at your surprised face before looking back down at the view. He clears his throat around the words trapped in his throat. He’s never told anyone this before, he’s never wanted to. "A fourteen-year-old girl named Dahlia, and a sixteen-year-old boy named Nyle. They didn't even make it out of the Cornucopia." Nyle was decapitated by a tribute from One and Dahlia's throat was slit by a tribute from Seven. Finnick remembers crying so hard that he threw up in a mop bucket. "Why are you telling me this?" That is a good question. One with an answer Finnick doesn’t want to look too closely at, though it might—scratch that, it definitely has something to do with your big watery eyes staring up at him ingenuously.

"Your first game as a mentor is always the hardest, and it doesn't get easier. But,” he shrugs and pulls the artfully folded, blue handkerchief out of his breast pocket, and hands it to you. Turns out this suit is good for something, "you do learn what to expect. You get used to that hurt, build up a tolerance to it." At least, he hopes so. This is his third year as a mentor and the burn is still there. How much longer until he tries to extinguish it by using substances? The Morphlings lasted two and four years, respectively. Haymitch lasted two months. You look between him and the handkerchief for a second before using it to wipe at your eyes. "It's completely different than being in the games. It's different watching." You whisper, barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. "Yeah. It is.” That's another thing they don't mention when you become a victor. The after is often worse than the during. It’s a thought he had when he saw you at your Victor Tour celebration. He doesn’t know what exactly made him ask you to dance, it could have been the tenseness you carried in your shoulders like a wounded animal being surrounded, or maybe it was the way your pretty face cracked and shattered like glass the longer the Capitols talked to you.

You were a commendable actor, sure, you’d certainly have fooled anyone else. But you just, you had looked so alone—completely overwhelmed with the piranhas circling you. So he threw you a line.

Your words swim through his head.

And you want to save me? He didn’t say your assessment was right, in fact, he had ignored what you said entirely. But he never said you were wrong either. He doesn’t suddenly have a savior complex or anything, he’s got no delusions of being some kind of hero. It’s just. He knows how much he would have appreciated it if someone had stepped in on his behalf when he was fourteen, even for just a moment. It would have made all the difference. But there hadn’t been anyone. So, if he has the chance to change that for you—stop the crippling despondency before it sweeps you away—why wouldn’t he?

Finnick won’t overestimate his influence. If Snow gets to you, there’s very little he can do about it. But.

It doesn’t seem like he’s made you the offer yet. Doesn’t that mean something? Snow is nothing if not punctual, very cut-throat in that regard. If he wanted something from you, he would have asked already, right? So maybe, he lets himself think, maybe you’re safe.

He looks up to the sky. One of the many things he hates about the Capitol is the smog. They're in the mountains, but the sky is so polluted it's hard to even see the moon sometimes. "Can you see the stars well in Eleven?" He asks, waving off your attempt to hand him back the handkerchief. You can burn it for all he cares. "Yeah,” you nod. "We focus on agriculture, so there are no mills or factories to pollute the air." You move closer to where he's leaning and look up. It feels almost instinctual to copy you, to get closer and fall into your orbit. "Hmm," he hums, "same for Four. Ships come in and out of the harbor, but I don't think they do much damage." The calmest he's felt in his entire life is when he's staring up at the sky at night, sand under his feet, and waves crashing in the background. "A friend of mine loved looking at the stars. She never knew any of the constellations, so she'd make up her own with stories to go with them." Mags loved telling him all the stories she made up when she was his age. Even after the stroke took her ability to speak, she'd point up at a constellation and have Finnick retell them to her. "My dad knew the real constellations." There's a small, prideful grin on your face that he doubts you even know is there. But he does. He is very aware of it. "He'd tell them to me whenever we came back from harvesting." "The real constellations, huh?” He glances over his shoulder at the glass door leading inside. The game is down to its last few tributes. No one should come looking for either of you. "How about for every real story you tell me, I tell you a made-up one?" He grins at you, the bar of the balcony digging into his back as he turns around. Odd. He can’t remember the last time he’s been alone with someone—someone other than Mags and Annie—and has kept all of his clothes on. "Won't they miss you in there? I mean you’re definitely the main attraction in every room you're in." You nudge him gently with your elbow, looking up at him through wispy eyelashes. Your eyes are still a little red from your earlier crying, but they’re heavy and focused entirely on him. He's used to people flirting with him. Hell, he does it almost as readily as he breathes. But he isn't used to you flirting with him. That tentative way of yours makes him nervous. It’s nothing he’s used to. It feels too real. "I don't care what they think," he shrugs a shoulder, biting his lip to stop from smiling too broadly, "The real party's out here, anyway." You tilt your head, smiling up at him and his ears go warm. This is probably the fifth time he's talked to you and you've never smiled at him like that before.

“Deal.” You hold up your pinky to him, something so openly childish that he can’t help but laugh.

“Deal.” He locks his pinky with yours and you nod at each other before dropping your hands.

"You see that up there? Those tiny clusters of stars," he watches your finger draw a W between five stars, "are called Cassiopeia. And those five stars above it are called Cepheus. They were husband and wife, queen and king. Cassiopeia offended Poseidon by saying her daughter, Andromeda, was more beautiful than the sea nymphs—close friends of his. So he punished her by sending a flood and a sea monster that would destroy their country unless they sacrificed Andromeda." Finnick looks from the sky to the side of your face as you continue talking. He follows the line of your jaw up to your mouth and watches as your full lips form the words of your story. The moon is full, the sky is bright, and he's entranced by more than just the stars. “After they died, Zeus put them in the sky together because Cepheus was a descendant of one of Zeus's lovers. A little weird, honestly.” Your face scrunches up in a decidedly cute way at the thought. “Cepheus sits with his scepter, and Cassiopeia sits chained to her throne as a punishment by Poseidon. As if having to sacrifice her daughter wasn’t enough. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?"

“Yeah.” The yellow lights from inside blanket you from behind, while the moon’s white glare reflects in your eyes. “They are.” You catch him staring and look at him expectantly. You're starting to fidget and he realizes he’s been quiet for a concerning amount of time. “My friend…” he pauses and makes a quick decision, "my friend Mags, she calls that one the Turtle and the Fish. Eros was mischievous and vain, as most gods are. He wanted to show off to a sea nymph, so he made a turtle and a fish fall in love to prove his power transcended species. But fish don't live as long as turtles, and once its lover died, the turtle mourned for one hundred years at the bottom of the sea. Poseidon, who felt his subject's grief, put them together amongst the stars for all eternity." He turns to you and finds you staring at him. "What?" He asks with a laugh, embarrassed for whatever reason. "I know it’s pretty simple compared to yours, but—" He cuts himself off when you smile at him again. "No, I liked it." You nod at your own words like you're agreeing with yourself. "It was sweet. Your Poseidon is way nicer than mine. Maybe you can tell your friend one of my stories. To show her how different they are." You shrug like it's a dumb, throwaway idea, before turning away from him in a haste to look back up at the sky.

He doesn’t understand. How can you just offer something like that like it’s nothing? You clearly loved your father very much and he picked up on the past tense when you talked about him. These stories are quite personal to you and he had assumed you hadn’t wanted them to be shared, but…Maybe he will tell her.

“Oh. Good. I just—I’m not much of a storyteller, so…I might’ve completely butchered that.” He swears it sounds much better when he retells it to Mags.

“It was great, Finnick. You were great.” You pout up at him and it’s the most unfair shit Finnick’s ever seen. Made even worse by the fact that you’re defending him. To himself. “Can you tell me another one?” You ask guilelessly, and who is Finnick to say no?

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Present (ii) - Finnick

[ 23 & 24] - District Four

"Mags: milk and cinnamon," Finnick places two tea cups before the two women, "And, Annie: a spoonful of honey." Mags smiles up at him in thanks as Annie takes a sip. He walks back to the kitchen to pour his own cup. It’s odd. He hadn’t always been a tea drinker. But now he practically puts on a new cup for every occasion, entirely your influence. He rests against the counter, letting it dig into his hip. It wouldn't be long before Snow announced the stipulations for the third Quarter Quell and Finnick can admit in the safety of his own mind that he's nervous. There were whispers among the Capitols and none of it painted a pretty picture. One of his clients informed him about a new Gamemaker, supposedly some kind of creative genius. He rolls his eyes at the thought. Yeah, he bets the guy is absolutely brilliant at torturing children. He drops five sugar cubes into the tea before grabbing a licorice root to stir it with. He joins them on the couch, staring at the sliced berries floating in his cup. There's something in the air. Word travels fast in close circles and it's no secret that there are more and more riots breaking out in the districts. Katniss and Peeta's win is still fresh on everyone's tongue. Snow has stayed quiet and with the Quarter Quell on the horizon, Finnick knows it—he can feel it in the atoms of his very being that it's going to end poorly. Or at the very least, worse than normal. What fresh hell will Snow come up with this time? Snow appears before a cheering crowd, foreboding even through the TV. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of The Hunger Games. And it was written in the charter of The Games that every twenty-five years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol." He places his cup on the table and leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this, the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell," Mags grabs onto his arm, frail fingers gripping his wrist. He wonders if she can feel the pulsing of his rapid heartbeat, "as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol. On this, the third Quarter Quell Games the male and female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district." Annie lets out a blood-curdling scream and it echoes past Finnick's ears. Her glass shatters on the ground and scalding tea splashes on his feet. He doesn't flinch. Normally, whenever Annie got like this, he would comfort her—talk her through it, but he can't move. The tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors and all of the victors of District Four are in this room. Mags’s physical state and Annie’s mental state guarantee one thing: regardless of who gets picked, they won't survive it. He'll be losing someone either way, and that's if he survives. If he survives, because Finnick is the only male victor for Four. There's no doubt, no one volunteering for him. He will be reaped and that, that was just— He rubs at his eyes with the base of his palms, fighting back a migraine. He makes a mental list: he'll be picked, Johanna and Blight will be picked, Chaff will be picked and— His hands move to pull at his roots. There are only two female victors in Eleven. There are only two, but Seeder loves you like she raised you herself. There's still hope, still a chance that you won't be picked, that she'll take your place if you're reaped. You'll be safe. And then, he remembers: Seeder is a mother, she's a wife. There are people that need her. He won't put it past Snow to rig the outcome for Eleven. He'll put Seeder's name in twice and pat himself on the back for seemingly ensuring your freedom. When, in reality, he's only ensured that you'll be in the arena.

Finnick knows this because he knows you. Better than he knows anyone, better than he knows himself. He knows that you're brave, that you're stubborn enough to put a cabezon to shame, that you're stupidly compassionate. He knows that you'll never be able to live with yourself if you don't volunteer in her place.

His head falls to the back of the couch. That's one thing he and Snow have in common, the only thing. Their love has damned you. Annie is mumbling to herself, having screamed herself hoarse at this point. But she keeps making jerking movements as if she wants to run. He steals a few breaths, taking a moment to gather himself—his fears, his hopes, his anger—he gathers it all and stores it away. "C'mon, Annie. Let's go outside for a walk." A stroll along the shoreline usually calms her down and he gets the allure. At least with the cooling breeze and the ocean mist from crashing waves, Finnick can close his eyes and pretend to be someone else. Someone unburdened with the fact that Snow was right, they are more similar than he'd like to admit. Because Seeder may have a family that relies on her, but Finnick can't find it in himself to care. He'd put her in the arena himself if it meant your safety. He stands, stepping around shards of glass and pools of cooling tea, pulling Annie up with him. He doesn't get far before Mags grabs his hand. She's worried, he can see it in her frown. She has every right to be. “I'm,” not fine, far from it, “right here, Mags. Don't worry about me.” He leaves behind Mags's concern and the sound of Caesar Flickerman's excited voice recounting Snow's speech. He pinches the skin between his thumb and index finger, pressing down until it hurts. Then he presses down until the muscle throbs. The sea breeze hits him in the face when he opens the door and he thinks. The boat is sinking and he can only swim for so long.

A/N: Side note, that was "stubborn enough to put a bull to shame" but I figured Finnick wouldn't know enough about bulls to know they're stubborn. So I picked the fish equivalent of a bull.

#the hunger games #hunger games catching fire #hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick odair #and they'd find us in a week

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mikhailwrites · 3 months

Text

Waiting for Connection 15 / Ghost x Soap

Ghost is retired and plays milsim videogame. Soap is still in the force and sometimes plays that same videogame...

AN: It's a short chapter, but... just think of the exciting things to come from this!

Previous chapter | AO3

Ghost was right, of course. When they do the rematch, he gets his ass handed to him. First, Alejandro and Rudy flush him out of his hiding spot with outstanding teamwork. They don’t discover him, but it’s a close call. While relocating, Ghost runs into Roach, who’s been waiting and ready, and there’s nothing close about that encounter. It’s a quick and clean vendetta.

All the while, Soap takes out some AI enemies and gets to the holding cells. By the time Roach is putting a bullet into Ghost, John is well on his way to the RV. It wasn’t entirely fair since it’s been basically four-to-one, but Ghost did his best to make it harder. The truth is, he’s not sure he would be able to win this round even with Gaz, so it’s a well-deserved victory.

Just like the last time, they reunite after the match, and predictably, the mood is much lighter. There’s not much for Ghost to comment on as to future improvements; they really did well this time. Apparently the most challenging part was to get the AI-controlled VIPs to RV since they sometimes got stuck or the follow command stopped working.

“I swear I almost wanted to shoot them myself,” Soap says as he tells them of his little jungle adventure.

“Then the mission would fail. In any case, it couldn’t have been worse than escorting civilians for real,” Ghost replies, earning a hum of agreement from Alejandro. It seems he’s had his fair share of experience. Not that it surprises Ghost. He might not know what Alejandro did prior to joining the task force, but that doesn’t mean Ghost doesn’t have at least some idea. The man is clearly skilled, well-trained and experienced, and that, paired with the accent and some off-handed mentions here and there, paints an interesting picture. Special forces, most likely, and from that part of the world? That says a lot. Ghost had some joint operations in South and Central America. In Mexico, too, of course, but he would rather not go down that particular memory lane. In any case, he always respected his counterparts.

They talk about the mission a little longer before Rudy changes the topic. “I was thinking… It’s my birthday next month, and we wanted to hit the pub and have a few drinks. Wanna join us, Ghost?”

Simon sits back in his chair, thinking hard. He appreciates the offer. It’s just that it sounds like a lot of people at once.

“Come on, Ghost, last time I went to visit you, it’s time you returned the favour!” Soap joins in with a very low-blow argument. Technically speaking, it was John’s idea to visit him in the first place, but Simon happily agreed.

“I… I’ll think about it,” Ghost relents eventually because he has to give them some answer. It’s noncommittal; he can always refuse later.

“Great, we’ll hold a spot for you in any case. Just let me know if you want me to arrange a room on the base for you, it shouldn’t be a problem, but I’ll need a little heads-up,” Soap's voice betrays a smile. He wants Ghost to come, and Simon would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see him again.

They say their goodbyes and good nights, Simon takes off the headset and sighs. Sergeant appears out of nowhere, jumping onto his lap with an inquisitive meow. Simon scratches the cat on the neck, letting it sit. “What do you think, should I go?”

Stripey starts to purr, closing the big green eyes as his human continues with scratching.

“Some help you are,” Simon inclines his head but smiles softly at the creature. He should really start thinking about what he’s hoping to achieve with all of this.

#Simon Riley - master of rhetorical questions #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghoap #ghost mw2 #soap mw2

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blacksupremacy86 · 27 days

Text

Lovers A Film Noir

This is completely beautiful,a totally vintage experience because I am literally in a Hotel chain named in Hollywood Experience Hotel chain and now I might add I am riding up the hotel elevator. At last we are stepping off of the elevator on to the main hallway walking down in sleepy haze wiping my eyes for a bit of a reprieve and reaching for my keys just slip it in to the doors key hole. The door swings open but the minute I step in one foot at a time immediately something is off, because I feel a my eyes being altered with some sort of contacts that act like a film filter.Everything in my world now here is a far too obvious now an exceptional black and white early Hollywood film and television I can tell the smell it is the smell of boiling or burnt film and sounds of crackles can be heard. I am a bit frightened and frustrated at my own experiences because I can sense it a lone figure looming through the room as it shines so brightly without any questions The room grows darker the anything I have ever seen or thought possible but a hand is now laying on to my shoulders holding on to me tight and embracing my back with his body. His palms starts to slip down from the shoulders down to my hands holding on to them I can feel him move slowly closer to undo my shirt. I use my hands to shove him back serving to the side to see this weird, pretty white boi about my age or so in this typing 1930’s or 1940’s clothes and also in black and white. He shooks his head at me as he burst out loudly laughing so hard as he looks up at me then checking me before he licks his lips. One deep breath before he is strolling to both window shades undoing them just a tiny bit and allowing the light in with such gorgeous illumination spilling in to it. He spins swiftly about to me making eye contact with me as it burns through my soul sweeping me in to his own orbit he begins to kissing me. I remain in full control of the situation once again in an utter state of excitement he calls me by tenderly placing his hands on a shirt button and walks closer to me.

Hello Master Lawrence!”

“What the hell is this?”

“Our realm “

“A time in between space “

“One of my own”

“I am yours “

“You created me”

“I couldn’t have”

“This hotel creates Ai based on you”

“Did you read my bio rhythms?”

“Correct!”

“What is the outcome?”

“You can save me?”

“Save you “

“Your will alone can make me”

“Real?”

“Impossible “

“You are doing it right now”

“I am your dream man”

“Is that not so?”

“No!”

“Don’t lie”

“You are my everything “

“Simply give in”

“I never do that “

“Kiss me and win me Sire”

“Let me be the only one worthy of you “

“I love you”

“Ugh! I love you too”

“I am alive Master Lawrence “

The end

Grant’s Possession

Grant Gustin laying in a hotel room after a very long day ending a FaceTime call with his wife and his kid is ambushed by some strange force cutting the call off as every thing in the room shook.The lights fluttering on and off blinding him on and off blinking like crazy driving himself in a jolt and jump upward in to the air propel even harder and he falls onto the bed in a deep a haze.He has a overly exaggerated sigh as he falls yet again flat on the bed exacerbated by the day’s events and goes into a deep slumber for the longterm unaware of the spirit about to inhabit his mind forever. Midnight hits as he squirms in bed rolls from one side to the other on his hotel sleeping in to the night as the hour takes a lifetime to end and the nights event have barely begun to occur.His eyes flutter open, close, in a deep heat as the sweat consumes him rolling down his face and he is completely overheated in his body dripping down his body wetting his bed up. A thin large white figure floating high above his massive queens size body imploding in a burst of energy shooting through the hotel room and lifts his body off in to the air cools it in a span of time.This Ghostly figure encircling him descends in to his body shivering with compulsion out of nowhere and Grants eyes flitting once more as he struggles to regain controls over himself. Suddenly! Grants life surrenders to him as he sunk in to unknown levels from his real consciousness, reveling in to subconscious throughout Grant is to suddenly find whohe is.Watching his authentic shadow bounce wall to wall he is forced to see it step in to a gold mirror and it become his reflection shining so bright with a golden ray of light booming on to him.

“Who on this God flourish earth are you ?”

“The new owner of this body “

“Why do you have my image?”

“I just explained it “

“You know full well”

“Fuck you! Set me free”

“Unfortunately! I can’t let you “

“Why not you freak?”

“Asshole”

“You will get use to it “

“Absolutely not! It’s my body “

“It’s my property “

“My life “

“No! My will”

“People will know “

“I will take care of that “

“You have a answer for everything “

“No duh!”

“I am not some dumb jock”

“You assume so”

“You will be soon enough”

“I won’t allow it “

“Oh please! Your mind is reassembling at this point.”

“You will see things my way”

“Take a nap”

“No! I refuse…I “

“A long slumber “

“No I….aaaahhhhh”

“Close your eyes, hit the bed “

“Succumb to my will”

The end

#david corenswet #Grant Gustin #hypnosis #ghost #male body possession #possession

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nightgoodomens · 2 months

Note

What do you think of what has happened in the last few days? Idk why but I'm sensing a shift in the dynamic of the 4 of them…

Well I can only guess…

This is going to be long:

Let’s look at the last few months.

So I did say from the beginning that the wives thing is nothing but pure promo for AL’s photoshoot. GT must have been asked to do it until BAFTAs because that’s when it stopped, and while AL tried to keep it going, GT cut her off very quickly - she was reposting her sometimes but not playing the wives tag game anymore. And then it stopped completely.

But anyway. I don’t think DT is a fan of AL. So either he put his foot down and said he doesn’t want her in the sketch, or… maybe she was meant to have a job by then and be gone. It would explain why she was not included in BAFTAs and why the wives thing ended right then too. And also why she was excluded from The Way. Let’s be honest here, she was excluded big time. It’s like… she wasn’t meant to be there anymore.

AL was clearly bothered. She snapped at a fan, she obsessively posted and reposted that she was there, she later whined about being dissed from The Way too. I sort of wondered whether she was under impression that she’d have more screen time and it was cut out, because she whined about people noticing the second she was left with as if there was meant to be more. It was all sort of bizarre since the producer was… her boyfriend. Like… go complain to him? Why you’re looking for attention from his fans?

So perhaps she was not meant to be there because of starting a career that… never actually happened so suddenly her heart “grew fonder” and she jumped on the love train of MS instead. It’s just so… blatant.

She tried to pull GT into more promo but GT didn’t play along. GT promoted The Way because she was involved, and there were those two selfies for The Nye from DT that felt like he posted.

DT sorted out an agent for GT with all the promo (including major PR at the BAFTAs) and AL did not even congratulate her “wife”.

And, and I hope it was on purpose because that’s the funniest shit AL has ever done - when GT posted her chocolate content, AL went on Twitter, found MS/DT photoshops, and retweeted it with “excellent content”. Ouch!

Let’s also note that AL even promoted BAFTAs when she got a seat from DT but now when he’s accomplishing other things but she doesn’t get anything out of it… Crickets.

So we agree this wives and family bullshit is over right.

AL keeps on trying with MS to prove they’re totally in love, but he’s giving nothing so it’s not working. She notes she’s alone, he makes a point to stay with fans every night or at the bar. I’d get the hint. This is on top of miserable selfies, not doing photos with her for Nye press night, and then liking a tweet from some “actress” chic after not liking anything from “fans” for a long time. Ai ai.

I think Michael has been done for a long time.

So there’s that.

Then we have GT and DT.

DT as usual is taking all jobs possible, perhaps to stay away from home, perhaps he just loves and needs to work. The rumour always was that he’d take anything to stay away from home. I don’t know. When GT posts videos, I can see that.

He seems to be on top right now. Which I’m super happy about. Perhaps his wife isn’t though.

She happily got snogged on the red carpet on his big day, and had articles about her on his big day too, she happily accepted him sorting out his agent for her, she also played along with the whole family thing etc when she needed an agent, now that she got what she wanted… Crickets.

Funny how it works with these ladies, eh?

We have him dragged to promote her family, put up like a puppet for a photo, and she writes a sweet post about the cousin. Before that, he’s told to do a dumbass video because her followers totally need to see it! He makes it clear he doesn’t want to do it, she has him do it anyway. Meh.

Next day, he wins a prestigious award.

Silence. For him. Because bestie got a sweet post for her birthday. DT? Nothing. When she finally posts it’s a repost and she tags the wrong awards. Then posts about being on a concert. Next day someone had to tell her she fucked up so she posts the same but takes the wrong tag off.

Still not a single word of affection. Or a joke she fucked up. You know, a fraction of what she gave her cousin, and used DT for, or what she did for her bestie. But no.

So, I don’t know. Is she jealous? She always kept him low, suddenly he’s gaining confidence thanks to MS, scoring great jobs, winning fantastic awards. She’s losing control.

Or are they fighting? Or is he already done?

I don’t know. But the fact that MS’s MOM posted before DT’s wife… and when GT eventually did she made a point to make it completely underwhelming… especially compared to what else she posted… well if she wanted us to notice it, she did.

I don’t know if DT not being there for the award has something to do with everything that’s been happening, I’m more likely to believe that he simply had work conflict.

It’s just… I see this image of a bloke who spent his whole career trying to sort something out for GT, when his big day happens he makes it about her and MS, and AL uses him too, and then when he accomplishes things…

Crickets. From all of them.

Well. Apart from mama Sheen.

It’s sad really. He deserves better.

#NightGoodOmens talks PR

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iamtotallyfineokay · 8 months

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Okay so people actually like my previous yandere UCN idea, surprisingly, even one of my fave writers came to comment, so I guess I’ll continue the headcanons I guess. This is just a more detailed in a nutshell version of the previous post. Also thank you for the notes from the previous one, I was really surprised when I checked it! ——————————————————————————————————

As I said before, Yandere UCN is terrifying. In the universe I’m gonna set my Yandere UCN x reader, it’s gonna involve all sorts of animatronics from the whole franchise. Basically it’s Ultimate Custom Night slowly becoming Ultra Custom Night but with only the original and fanmade models. Oh and this might be out of character, so tell me in the notes if I did something wrong!

Part 1

Let’s start with the Classics. I personally think Freddy would be the type to be a gentleman of sorts. He would be glad to sing you a little song if you like, maybe you can also join him as well! Bonnie would definitely play the guitar role for you guys in your songs, since he seems to be a person with a laidback character, where he would kinda prefer to third wheel in a relationship. He enjoys your presence though, as you routinely like to check up on him for some reason. Chica would also be delighted by your presence! She’s sometimes told off by the others for being a bit too childish but you don’t mind it and kind of like it! She’s happy with that, along with Foxy! I think he and Chica would be a common duo who like to compete with others for your attention, with Chica acting as the wingman(girl) to your little relationship with them in UCN, while Foxy is just that slightly nervous kid in the corner who absolutely wants and not want your attention at the same time. He’s just so happy to actually receive attention from you after being neglected in his previous establishment! Golden Bear watches his cohorts enjoy this moment, he’s glad he doesn’t need to constantly give them plans or constantly comfort them, and he also wants some comfort himself through compliments from you!

The Toy animatronics absolutely indulge in your presence, along with the Withereds and Shadows. They all absolutely delight themselves in your presence. For the Toy animatronics, let’s say you played as a night guard in their establishment before you went into UCN. Toy Freddy was always so lonely, sad that he didn’t seem to be as cute as his cohorts sometimes. That is when you arrive! Maybe you even accidentally introduced Toy Freddy to playing arcade games because you couldn’t ‘bear’ how lonely he seems to be sometimes. He even wishes indulge in small tea parties with you in nights when his AI is sent down to one! Toy Bonnie and Toy Chica also seem to be a common duo! They go through the vents and such in UCN. You met them both in their previous game when you may have accidentally lured them to the office through lights! However, when your night is over, you sometimes comment on them being so pretty and adorable! This may have kicked a part of their code aside, but they indulge in you secretly when your night ends, as they prepare for your next night. UCN is where they just get more violent for attention!

Balloon Boy and the Puppet also have something in common: being creepily too ‘human-looking’ to most people. Even Balloon Boy gets comments on his weirdly shaped teeth while the Puppet is commented for their tall and lanky figure. Balloon Boy mainly acts like a child to their parent with you when your friendship becomes closer! He doesn’t steal your batteries in the original game, but he’s more hungry for praise from you in UCN, whereas he would steal more batteries from you, since he was given a deal by Withered Foxy to make the night end faster. Puppet also likes your presence, finding comfort around you as if you’re a warm blanket of mental comfort. For that, they give gifts to you when nights end in UCN, though they may trap you in their box when they win the night by jumpscaring you. Mangle is kind of the same as Puppet, only instead always needing constant praises of validation from you to feel ‘beautiful’. You used to like her so now she’ll return it fully by trying to make you as pretty as her!

The Withereds are like their original counterparts but more aggressive compared to them. Their restless, now feeling upset they don’t get to be on that shining stage anymore. Withered Foxy and Bonnie are the most aggressive of the four, being the first animatronics to turn on during the FNAF 2 game, with the indigo no-faced bunny now needing approval for his hopes to be turned up, while his cohort the red fox pirate, needs attention both physically and mentally to remember his short happy days on stage in his corner. They do team up though when they don’t at least argue for 1 minute, and damn do they made a good duo. Withered Freddy is just like his Classic counterpart, but now more laidback, kind of welcoming the fact his time on stage has reached its end, though he does dream and someday returning to it, and maybe sing along with you. However, not acknowledging his presence gets his temper a bit worked up, making him storm to your office and trying to get to the door. Withered Chica and Golden Bear kind of watch this unfold. Chica watches her male cohorts while she just decides to take things more slowly while maintaining her happy yet slightly now mature personality, hanging out with you during nights when the others have their AI set to 0 or 1, just kind of hanging out like couch potatos. This also applies to Withered Golden Freddy! He’s more tired, having a higher chance to materialise even when his AI’s set to a very low place. He likes to hang out and just chill with you during other nights, sometimes appearing while wrapping an arm around your back. He’s glad your here in this purgatory meant just for you!

The Shadows stay more distant from you. You’re just here, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, at least to them. Though they start to warm up to you, with Shadow Bonnie being the more friendly one of the two, and Shadow Freddy just overall being glad you’re here! Finally someone who they get to talk with who’s not a robot! Though instead, they may trap you in abandoned rooms to spend time with you! Better be careful, these two seemingly a kind of a mind alike! Oh well, what could they say? You’re as sweet as a birthday cake, and boy do they get greedy!

#Okay this was really long #Sorry my dudes #yandere ultimate custom night #yandere fnaf #yandere fnaf ucn #yandere fnaf 1 #yandere fnaf 2

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 8 months

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A Hell's Kitchen Christmas [Hallmark Trope]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Hallmark Special tv movie trope 1. Busy career woman in big city reluctantly returns to hometown for problem™. Handsome man in town who she initially clashes with wins her over and they fall in love. She stays in hometown. It is also Christmas. "You return to Hell's Kitchen to help your estranged dad in a legal battle over his hardware store. You’re a hot-shot Miami lawyer after all, how hard could it be? Except the charming, handsome local lawyer named Matt Murdock your dad hired to help him keeps getting in your way. And yes, it is Christmas. Because this is a Hallmark Movie."

Warnings: No use of Y/N. No pronouns are used for reader, so any gender applies! Catholic/Religious mass mentioned/attended by reader, reader’s mom is dead, Christmas, Fluff on top of fluff.

WC: 1500

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

The footsteps of parishioners thumped softly against the carpeted aisle of Clinton Church, nearly drowned out by the blaring of the organ as it played them out while they all exited. Christmas Eve Midnight Mass had just ended. Typically always over-crowded with those Sister Maggie called “Christers” (those who only attend church on Christmas and Easter), the many people walked past where Matt sat in a pew towards the back, chatting about what excitement tomorrow brought them (technically today, as it was nearly 1AM on Christmas Morning).

Matt remained in his seat, listening to the crowd depart, until there was just one other person in the chapel with him.

He noticed you as soon as he sat down before the service. Despite the many unfamiliar heartbeats in the crowd tonight, he picked yours out right away. Your citrus-scented perfume confirmed your presence when its pleasant smell reached him.

You were alone, which Matt found odd. Not joined by your father for the holiday celebrations as he expected you to be.

He heard you finally stand from your spot and walk up to the altar just as the last of the crowd left. The lighter trembled in between your fingers as you picked up a tea light and lit it, placing it amongst the many flaming symbols of other people's prayers.

“Shit God, I know I don’t pray a lot… or at all really.”

Matt listened as you spoke, chuckling to himself. You clearly hadn’t noticed him there.

“Look, it’s just my dad… the hardware store has been his whole life since mom died and please, you just can’t take that away from him. I know me leaving didn’t help, I know. I’m still living with that guilt, believe me.” you continued to pray, sniffling and wiping away a tear from your eye

“But this pro-bono guy he’s got. I don’t think it’s gonna be enough. I guess what I’m asking is please just let him open his heart enough for me to help. Or at least for this Murdock schmuck to get it together enough and actually save my dad’s store. You know, like a nice Christmas miracle? Um… thanks God.”

You crossed yourself and bowed to the altar, turning to leave.

Matt could tell you spotted him from the gasp that left your mouth and the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Matt. Hey. Um… Merry Christmas.” you said, still trying not to cry as you walked over to him

“Hey. Merry Christmas to you too. Where’s your dad?”

“Oh, he had a long day today. You know him, he never stops working. I told him to stay home and rest. Can I walk you home?”

“Oh you don’t have to…”

“Come on Matt, it’s late and it’s Christmas. It’s only a few blocks anyway. Let me walk you home.”

Matt nodded and took your arm as you led him out of the church and into the cold New York night. The snowflakes danced around as the two of you walked, arm in arm. Crunching footsteps made a path through the white-covered sidewalk and left evidence of the route to Matt’s apartment you took.

“Did you not bring a warmer coat? I can hear you shivering.” Matt exclaimed

“I didn’t. I never come home for Christmas, but with everything going on with my dad, I booked the trip so last minute and a winter coat isn’t exactly something I need in Miami.” you replied, tugging at the sleeves of your thin jacket

“May I?” Matt offered, releasing your arm for a moment to shrug off his wool pea coat.

Gloved hands ghosted your neck as he situated the garment around your shoulders. It was snuggly and warm and reminded you of Matt in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Thank you Matt. Not just for the coat, but for everything. You’re really helping my dad out.” you said, letting him take your arm once more and resuming your journey

“Oh yeah? You sure I’m not just some schmuck he hired?”

“Shit. You heard that? I didn’t mean it.” you shook your head and Matt just chuckled

“You really are a good lawyer.” you continued “Everything you’ve proposed we try and all the research you’ve done… I know I’ve been really hard on you since I got here and I’m sorry. I’m a big deal at my firm in Miami and I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am. And my dad is about to get evicted and he doesn’t even call his own kid to help? I know I’m in corporate finance law and I’m not licensed in New York but still… He didn’t tell me this was happening for months and he hired you and I was hurt.”

“So why’d you come back to New York then? If you think I’m a good enough lawyer to help your dad out that is?” Matt asked

“I didn’t think that at first. Didn’t think a small pro-bono firm could take on the big developer trying to tear down the whole block. But now that I’ve been working with you on this, well I was wrong. And maybe I came back too because I missed him and I missed home.”

“Yeah?”

The streets of Hell’s Kitchen were practically empty at this hour, families all tucked away in their homes waiting for the excitement of Christmas morning. It was tranquil, seeing the city that never sleeps so quiet and calm. The electric buzz that New York always seems to have was still there, but dimmed.

“After my mom died, we just grew apart. He threw himself into work and I threw myself into school and my career. I think he was bitter that I moved away, that I didn’t want to take over the store from him.”

“Well you shouldn’t feel bad about going on your own path.” Matt reassured

“Yeah but it was the way I did it. But now that I’ve been back, god it’s like we used to be. Close you know?”

“Yeah I was really close with my dad too. And I’d give anything to have him back. To have what you and your dad have.”

“Shit you’re right. I guess that really puts it in perspective.” you replied

The purple and gold light of the video billboard on Matt’s block reflected off the snowflakes like a disco ball. A festive touch considering what day it was. You stopped your journey just outside his front door, facing him to observe the way he licked his lips as he formulated his next thought.

“I think he just wants what’s best for you.”

“I know that. It’s a shame it took me this long to figure out what’s actually best for me.” you replied

“Oh yeah? You figured that out just in the 10 days you’ve been home? Wow counselor, research and evidence gathering stage usually takes longer.”

“Very funny Murdock. Yeah actually, I have.” you replied

“And what did you figure out?”

“Matt, the work that you do, seeing it in action and how it’s helped my dad, it really inspired me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I want to shift my legal specialty. Find a firm to work for that takes on clients like yours and actually helps people. And Matt, I don’t know that I would have discovered that if it weren’t for you.”

A wide smile spread across Matt’s face as he lowered and shook his head.

“Well, I might know of just the firm that could use a lawyer as smart as you. You’d have to stay in Hell’s Kitchen though, or at the very least New York…”

“Matt, are you offering me a job?” you asked

“Well I mean you’d have to pass the bar in New York first, but yeah, actually I am.”

“What are you doing tomorrow– or today I guess technically?” you asked

“For Christmas? I don’t really have plans. I used to go to dinner at Foggy’s family, but his parents became snowbirds a few years ago, so now all the Nelsons travel to Florida for the holidays. Why?”

“My dad is cooking a fabulous meal and we’d love to have you join us. To thank you for all you’ve done. For both of us.”

“I don’t want to impose on your first Christmas in years with your dad.” Matt replied

“Oh c’mon Matt, you have to come! You’re practically family at this point; you’re saving my dad’s business, you’re repairing our relationship, you’re offering me a job.”

“Okay, okay. I will come.” he conceded

“Great! We can tell my dad I’m moving back to New York. Together.”

“Does that mean you’re saying yes? To my offer?”

“Yes Matt, I am saying yes. To working for you. And staying in New York.”

Reaching out with a trembling hand in the cold night air, you ran your thumb along his jaw. Matt let out a chuckle as you reveled in the way his stubble felt against your freezing fingers. A sigh escaped you into his plush, soft lips when he finally kissed you, warming you instantly from the chill.

“Merry Christmas, Matt.”

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #charlie cox #nmcu #trope de sept #hallmark #christmas fic #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x male reader #matt murdock x gn!reader #daredevil imagine #fluff #nmcu fic #mcu fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil

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