Should I Start Writing Again?

do y'all also have mutuals whom you’re actually a fan of? like everytime u see them on your dash u just,,,,, “u go mutual that’s my mutual!!!!! i love u mutual!!!! i can’t even believe we’re mutuals i don’t deserve u!!!! keep being u mutual!!!”

When someone with a legit high quality blog starts following me.:

Baby Blues

Pairing: John Price x Female Reader

Synopsis: The promise of a normal Sunday is lost when your door is torn open, and, you, kidnaped. All you can do is pray that John finds you in time.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: allusions to intimacy, kidnapping, blood, gore, swearing, angst, fluff

A/N: The lack of John fics is saddening to the degree that I’ve been forced to write one myself. Don’t expect anything good, in fact, I think everything I’ve written is horrible, but this is the only way the voices in my head would shut up. Enjoy.

Keep reading

Brennan Sorrengail Masterlist

Updated: 3-20-25

Bodhi Durran Masterlist

Updated: 3-20-25

Capi this was so good💕💕

i walk the line.

You had joked with Ghost before about getting married, never with a tone serious enough for it to be taken into account, even if it was something you dreamed about whenever you were alone with your thoughts. What you hadn’t expected was the question to come up at such an inopportune time. 

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Sergeant Reader

rbs greatly appreciated!

WC: 2.1 K

a/n: i hate giving my fics titles so just assume the song in the title is the vibe i want the fic to have lmao. also this is unedited and not beta read so beware of typos and shit

warnings: estabilished relationship, profanity, whump, description of wound, mentions of death, badly timed marriage proposal, medical inaccuracies, fluff, happy ending

It’s cold.

No, scratch that. It’s fucking freezing.

God, you hate the cold. Considering how much you despise it, it amuses you to think you might have been a desert creature in another life. A lizard, maybe. The types to scurry really fast and eat small insects all day. What a life.

You’re lost in your musings but you think there are a few very faint voices calling for you. Where are they coming from? Above? Seems like it. First, you hear their voices getting clearer, and recognize a word. It’s your codename, meaning, it’s your teammates voices. But why do they sound so agitated? Next, you feel pain. Quickly rising, scorching hot pain in your abdomen. 

Oh, that’s right. You were shot.

A scream echoes out wherever you are and only later you’d recognize it as your own, in the same moment you recognize Ghost’s own booming voice frantically calling out for you, and the heavy weight of Soap’s large hands holding you down so you wouldn’t trash as much. It had been ironic, really, how much the mission went smoothly, 99% of it being completed without a hitch, but right as you were about to celebrate success, some fucker neither of you had seen before had decided to put a bullet in you - any of you - blindly, and it so happened it would hit you. The offender was long gone, a throw knife lodged in his skull as quick as a blink of an eye in the split second after the gunshot was heard, but the damage was already done. A few seconds before it happened, you had groaned how much you couldn’t wait for evac to come so you could take a hot shower and sleep, since your bones were aching, and Gaz had laughed and called you old-spirited. So much for that shower, you think as you take in the surroundings of what you could see of the abandoned safe house from your position on the blood stained table. It was painful to think about if that same table was used in the past for a family reunion or to gather folks around for good news, before hell broke loose and war tore apart the people, so you didn’t think about it. Ghost called your codename again and you cast your eyes downwards to look at him, the fear in his eyes sending a chill down your spine.

“Hey! Talk to me, don’t you dare close your eyes!”

You had screamed as he was removing the projectile from your flesh, you realized. Was not your first rodeo, a thought that made you want to laugh bitterly, but just the idea of laughing made you wince in pain. His hands were currently trying to stop the bleeding, and after taking one look at the wound, you suddenly felt at peace. 

It was pretty shitty you were going to die in an equally shitty safehouse, but that’s the life you chose. So, against your better judgment, you chuckle lowly and decide to follow your superior’s orders.

“Keep talking, eh? Alright.” You groaned once more when he applied more pressure to your gaping wound. “L.t, do you- do you remember when i told you…I wanted to retire early and - fuck - get to the countryside and get a big ass dog?”

He looked up at you briefly, glad you were talking but clearly wondering where you were going with this. You knew he hated when you spoke of the future as if you were going to die - which, right now, you were pretty sure it was really happening this time - but you couldn’t help yourself. Of course he remembers that conversation, it was in the beginning of your secret-not-so-secret relationship. You had asked him what he would do if he wasn’t a soldier, and he had given you a very cryptic and vague answer that resembled a lot like nothing. In turn, you told him your wishes half heartedly, as if thinking of living for 10 more years was a very distant dream. 

The relationship between the 141’s Lieutenant and one of its Sargeants was a sort of urban legend going around. People knew it was happening, but didn’t dare speak of it, and no one had ever really seen any proof of it, so, it was best to avoid prying into Ghost’s private matters as to not risk being at the receiving end of his annoyance, and, in turn, you both found solace in having something that only the two of you knew about. It never hindered your professionalism and it had been going on for a few good years now, so it became somewhat naturalized between the folks coexisting in the same space as you and Simon after a while. However, that never stopped the natural curiosity to flourish in a few people - namely, your comrades, who always knew there was something going on given the fact you’d literally look at your superior with hearts in your eyes - so you had to ignore Gaz and Soap’s expectant eyes on you as you spoke so tenderly, the intensity of witnessing the start of what seemed like a very intimate talk momentarily sharing space with the worry they were feeling over you. 

“...Yes. I remember.”

He never forgets the things you say, even if you think it’s not important at the time. You hummed, ignoring the pain that came with it.

“Big dogs were never really my thing. I just-” A cough ripped out of you, and you didn’t need to look to know there was blood in it. “ I just thought it was the kind of thing you’d want. Big dogs fit you. It felt less scary to think about retiring once I added you in the equation.”

You were slurring your words and you knew it. As you regained your breath, you briefly saw a very wide-eyed and angry looking Price curse into his comm asking where the fuck was the goddamn chopper. Your codename being barked alongside the word “WIA” to a poor fellow soldier on the other side of the line left you with a bad taste in your mouth. You hate how scared Ghost looked, your big, scary, stoic Ghost, and you can’t help but feel selfish for leaving him, even if being shot was not your fault and wasn’t really in your plans when you left the base that morning.

“Stop talking like you’re fucking d-”

“We could have done it, you know?” Your laugh is, once again, bitter, and you’re acutely aware of the tears streaming down your face. Death has never scared you, but now that you got a reason to stay, you’re terrified. “Could’ve gotten hitched somewhere nice. Can’t really imagine you in a suit, though.”

The pain doesn’t stop, but it gets duller as you feel your consciousness slipping away, and you never fought so much to stay awake in your entire life. Simon yells something to Soap among the lines of getting something from somewhere so he can continue trying to save you, but you don’t register his words. His tone softens once his eyes are back on you.

“I’d wear a suit if you asked me to, sweetheart.”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask, though.”

Not caring there are other people in the room, you smile at him, well aware it must be uncanny to see Ghost be so tender towards another person, but again, you were the lucky one who got to see it every time it was just the two of you, so you got used to it with time.

Your vision starts spinning more and more, and your eyes start to close the moment you hear the familiar, faint sound of a helicopter getting closer, Simon’s big hands suddenly on your face to try to keep you grounded, and he sounds even more exasperated than before. He calls your name - not your codename, for once.

“Stay alive, do you hear me?! You gotta stay the fuck alive so i can take you to the bloody countryside and get bloody hitched-”

“You askin’ me to marry ya’ in my deathbed, sir?” You manage to slur out, your smile growing despite the panic you don’t have the energy to express settling in your bones, and Simon’s eyes widen even more behind the mask.

“Yes, I am, so stay with me, that’s a fucking order-”

You chuckle, closing your eyes as the frantic sounds around you all blur into a garbled mess. Faintly you feel your body being moved around, a strong wind on your blood and dirt caked hair, hear some more shouting, but then,

Silence.

——————————

Feels like the thousandth time you have woken up, and the feeling of coming in and out of consciousness is unbearable at best.

The first time - or the second, you don’t remember - there was a strong light above you, but you had no energy to open your eyes, so it lasted a measly second before you were out again. Later, you heard an unfamiliar voice saying something about an induced coma for a few days for a better recovery. You wondered if they were talking about you (they probably were). This happens a few more times before you actually feel your consciousness coming back for good, and, before you open your eyes, the first thing you notice is how warm it is, and, if you could, you’d smile. The spring air smells good, and you think you catch a whiff of cleaning products while you inhale, suddenly aware of how empty your lungs felt. The third thing you notice is the weight on your hand, and once you open your eyes, you find a familiar set of skeleton gloved hands on top of your own. A few years back you had told him with a laugh the print was very 2000’s, and he had just brushed you off with a scowl, but you’ve never been so glad to see the tacky thing. His thumb caresses your skin as he patiently waits for you to become more aware of your surroundings, and you instantly smile when you finally meet his gaze, which looks extremely relieved.

“Hi.” Your throat feels parched, voice straining as if you’d swallowed a kilo of sand, but Simon thinks your voice never sounded so sweet to his ears.

“Hi.” 

It hurts to move, but you do so anyway, slowly sitting up despite Simon’s protests just so you can see him more clearly and grasp his hand a little better. While you are busy cringing at the dull pain in your stomach from the stitches, he extends a glass of water for you, to which you grab and gulp down immediately, quenching your thirst and looking over at your partner with such gratitude an onlooker would have thought he was a literal godsend. 

“How bad is it?” Your voice still felt rough from disuse, but at least it sounded a bit more familiar to your ears. 

“Pretty bad.” He doesn’t bother you with details; he knows you were never a fan of hearing about your wounds descriptively. “But you’ve always been tough.”

You flash him a grin that has him silently flabbergasted both with how beautiful you are and how quickly you seem to bounce back from a near fatal injury. Suddenly, you remember your last words before you blacked out, and your smile turns shy as you cast your gaze down to where your hands meet.

“...Did you mean it?” 

Simon has always been extremely observant and smart, he knows what you are talking about immediately, and you like to think he is smiling under the mask as he goes back to gingerly caressing the top of your smaller hand with his thumb.

“I did, sweetheart.” His voice is low, and every time he calls you a pet name it has your heart doing somersaults. “I’m sorry I don't have a ring yet and I don't know when we would have some time off to have a ceremony, but I want to marry ya’. If you’ll have me, that is.”

Feeling like your smile would grow so big it would rip your face, you beamed at him, acutely aware of how you must have been looking like a mess with a - hospital - bed head and tired eyes, but you’d hoped he could notice the hearts in your eyes as obviously as you felt them. Things always seemed to fall in place with Ghost; no need for extravagance or huge acts, and the fact that your marriage proposal was exactly that, made you fall even more in love with him. You watched lovingly as he raised your hand to press a mask covered kiss on the top of it, and shook your head, laughing gently.

“Of course i’ll marry you, Simon.”

Oh this was so much fun! Here's mine❤️

Let's play dress-up games! 🥰

Something nice and fluffy and fun! It's simple: make a dress-up doll (or several), and reblog this post with your character. Make yourself, make an OC, make your favourite character - anyone you like!

If you have your favourite doll maker, you can use that, but I've included some suggestions below.

The two makers I've used are for femme-presenting folks, and were drawn by @ummmmandy 💖

Her dress-up doll maker is here: https://www.dolldivine.com/dress-up-schmess-up.php

And here's the face one: https://picrew.me/image_maker/114808

There are also these fabulous sites where you can find dress-up dolls for different genres, characters, and gender expressions:

https://www.dolldivine.com/

https://www.azaleasdolls.com/index.php

https://meiker.io/games/tag/dress-up-game

Here are mine, I made myself using ummmmandy's makers...

(Although I'm a lot shorter in real life and my eyebrows are more wayward!)

Over to you, let's see your dress-up dolls! 🥰

This was so good! I'm honestly in love with this story🥺❤️❤️

Chapter 4: Back to Blighty

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

*Please do not plagiarise, copy, or repost anywhere else.

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Autistic!Reader

*18+ only. Minors DNI. If you follow/reblog, please have your age (or an indicator of your age) in your bio.

Summary: Your time at the front has come to an end, and you return to London with the rest of the SSR team. While reuiniting with old friends, you make some new ones too, and can finally have some quality time with Bucky.

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, making out, suggestive stuff, talk about the war and invasions, found family, some cheesy musical numbers (yes, really). No smut in this chapter but it's coming soon, don't you worry!

Author Notes:

I don't know what I think of this chapter. Depression's been kicking my ass lately so I'm kind of doubting everything right now.

The character Thea is coded as having ADHD. Her traits are based off one of my best friends whom I adore (when we hang out we're a neurodivergent powerhouse).

As I’ve been writing I’ve also fallen in love with Thea as a character. Maybe I should do a spin-off about her. Click to read her bio.

The Windmill Theatre was a famous variety theatre that became best known for its shows involving nude models in still tableaus.

Click for full Author Notes

DISCLAIMER: The reader’s autistic traits are predominantly based on my own, but every autistic person is different and will display different traits in different ways.

Your friend, Thea, was a dancer. Or at least, a former dancer. The toast of the Folies Bergère and the London Criterion in the 1920s, she had since turned her hand to choreography and now directed shows at the Windmill Theatre.

Yes, that Windmill Theatre.

Your peculiarities balanced each other out. She could be forgetful, you remembered everything. She was disorganised, you were the very much the opposite. She was always late, your time management was impeccable. Sometimes it was carnage, but most of the time you were the perfect pair, and she was one of the best people you had ever met.

Right now you were using one of the public phones at the port, trying to liaise with Thea about collecting your key. She had been looking after your flat since you had been away, and you were trying to sort a good time to meet her.

So far, you were struggling.

"Is that tapdancing going on in the background?" You winced.

"Yes love, sorry. I'll get her to stop." You heard Thea move away from the mouthpiece and call out. "Sweetie, would you stop for a moment please? My poor friend can't hear me."

That wasn't strictly true, but it was easier to understand than 'my friend is sensitive to noise and can't focus on my voice while you're dancing and will probably cry if you don't stop.'

The tapping ceased, much to your relief.

"Sorry darling, what was I saying?"

"About my key. Our train gets in at five.”

"Yes! I gave Joey your key."

"Why does Joey have my key?"

"I'm in rehearsals when you arrive in London."

“I could meet you at the theatre?”

“It’s the sitzprobe for the Christmas show sweetie, I’ll be backstage.”

"Fair point! So where am I meeting Joey?"

"He's watching the rehearsals, so you can meet him in the auditorium. I'll let them know you're coming."

Thea's fiancé, Joey, was a lovely man. A former RAF pilot who had lost his right arm in action, he and Thea had met one night after a show at The Windmill and had been inseparable ever since.

It had been wonderful to see her so happy, and with a man who thought the world of her. Now, you couldn’t wait to introduce her to Bucky.

"Can I bring a friend?" You asked tentatively.

"Of course you can, sweetie!" And you could hear she was beaming on the other end of the phone. “Wait, a friend? Is this a pal, or did you find a nice gentleman out in Italy?”

“You’ll have to wait and see!” You giggled, wanting to tell her everything but knowing that you could be easily overheard in your current location. You also knew that you had only paid for a limited amount of time on the phone, and as soon as you started enthusing, you wouldn’t stop.

***

You met Bucky in the corridor of the train when you were returning from the lavatories. You had been separated when disembarking the boat, which had made you quite anxious, so finding him again was a great relief.

Then again, travelling in general had always been incredibly stressful for you, the noise, the queues, all the people. You wished that you could magic yourself to new locations without the stresses and strains.

“Hello, sarge!” You gasped, trying to hide how relieved you were to see him.

"Lieutenant, I need your services." He smirked, pulling you in and enveloping you in his arms. You hugged him back, realising just how exhausted you were in that moment.

“I was wondering where you’d got to.” You said softly. “We were all ordered onto the train after collecting our bags.”

“We had extra checks on our papers.” Bucky told you, rolling his eyes. “Took ages. Anyway, now that I’ve found you, can I have a kiss?”

“Only if you say please.” You teased. Normally you didn’t know how to joke with people, it was hard to know whether the joke would land or not. But with Bucky it felt different, you could read him because he was honest, and he was good at sensing what you needed, or asking if he was unsure.

Bucky straightened his back and raised one eyebrow. “Pretty please. With a ribbon on top.”

You nodded, grinning broadly, before pursing your lips to meet his as he pulled you closer. He kissed you desperately, hungrily, not caring who might see.

“I have a compartment to myself.” You told him. “I was sharing with an old fart who smelled of peppermints, but luckily he had his eyes closed the whole time so I didn’t have to speak to him. But now I’m by myself. Come and join me!”

Your ramble made Bucky giggle, before he rested his nose against yours. “Hmm… I think a bit of canoodling will definitely make the journey go faster.” He said with mock seriousness. “Good idea, lieutenant.”

For the remainder of your journey to St Pancras, you sat on Bucky’s lap in your compartment, curtains drawn, in each other’s arms.

“I need to say something.” Bucky murmured as he snuggled his head into your neck.

“That sounds ominous!” You didn’t like when people said things like this, even if they ended up telling you something nice. I have something to tell you, we need to talk… those words never failed to fill you with anxiety. “I hope it’s not something bad?”

“Oh no, it’s good! I promise!” He looked at your mouth for a moment before he spoke. “When I got captured, I never expected to survive. Then, when Steve rescued me by some miracle, all I wanted was to find some peace. I’m just so tired and battered that I didn’t think I was capable of… I never expected to…” He broke off, thinking about what he was going to say next. “I never expected to meet someone. I didn’t even think I was ready. But I feel safe with you. You don’t expect me to be anything, you don’t ask me to hide anything. I don’t have to pretend when I’m with you. Back in Brooklyn I was expected to put on an act, always be the charmer, always be the one in control, be the protector. But around you I can be vulnerable. Ah jeez, am I making any sense?”

You nodded, trying to stop yourself from crying with joy at his words.

“And I hope you feel as though you can be yourself around me, and be vulnerable if you have to. Because I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He continued, before kissing your nose.

You didn’t say anything in response, you didn’t know how to put your feelings into words at that moment. Instead, you nodded, letting the emotion wash over you and the joyful tears fall. Gently, you covered his face with kisses, before nuzzling your face into his neck, pulling him close.

***

Suitcase in one hand, Bucky’s hand in the other, you led your handsome sergeant down the steps of the Windmill Theatre. As he saw the posters by the door, he gently tugged your hand and whispered in your ear.

“Wait, is this…?”

“Yes.”

“This is…”

“Yes.”

“The Windmill?”

“Yes, the Windmill!”

“Oh wow.”

“But you won’t see anything of that nature today, Bucky. The girls wear robes during rehearsals.”

You were merely stating a fact, but Bucky snorted with laughter.

“Baby, I only have eyes for you!” He laughed. “But I appreciate the heads up.”

“There’s no need to be ashamed of wanting to look at a naked woman Bucky. Well, unless you’re a Peeping Tom, then it’s wrong. But these girls get paid and want to do it here. The real shows are stunning, they look like artworks.” You had gotten used to rambling in front of Bucky, because you knew it was safe to do so. He never told you to stop or shrink yourself. He said he found it endearing and sweet.

He put his arm around you and kissed your ear, before whispering into it, speaking slowly so that you could hear through your earplugs.

“I bet you look like an artwork too.”

You could feel your face go hot. Bucky must have noticed your shy grin, because he giggled and kissed you again.

“Come on, lieutenant, let’s get your key and get you home.”

The auditorium was less crowded than you’d anticipated, but you still wore your earplugs, just to be safe. The orchestra were already in their seats, warming up, but the stage was empty. Your heart leapt in your chest as you thought of Thea backstage, giving a pep talk to the dancers, buzzing with energy.

You couldn’t wait to give her a hug.

In one of the auditorium seats you spotted Joey, dressed in his uniform and medals, empty sleeve pinned neatly. As soon as he spotted you and Bucky approaching, he grinned and waved.

“Joey!” You waved at him.

"Well hello there!" Joey greeted you in a loud whisper, his face beaming. You couldn't help but smile too as he pulled you into a hug. “It’s good to see you.” He said. “Thea’s going to explode with happiness!” He looked at Bucky then. “And is this your friend? Thea told me all about it. Good to meet you, chap!”

Your heart started to pound as Joey extended his hand for Bucky to shake.

“I didn’t… I just mentioned I was bringing someone!” You explained, flustered, but Bucky was smiling.

“Call me Bucky. It’s nice to meet you too.” He said, shaking Joey’s hand, before slipping his arm around your waist.

Joey handed you your key, counting the keys on the loop first to make sure all were accounted for.

“Thea told me to tell you, that she won’t be able to get away to say hello, but that I’m to give you a hug from her, which I already have done, and she will see you at The Fighting Cocks tomorrow. She said to bring friends.”

The Fighting Cocks was your local. You liked it there, the pub landlady was lovely, the barmaids knew you, and it had a nice, quiet atmosphere. But ‘bring friends’ – that was typical Thea. You had read Carl Jung’s theory about Introverts and Extroverts, and she was definitely in the latter category.

You liked making friends, it was just that too many people in one go could be a little overwhelming.

“Will you stay for a song?” Joey asked. “They’re really rather good.”

“We’ll stay for a song, then I think we best get going.” You looked at Bucky, who nodded in agreement. “As for the pub… maybe we could invite Captain Rogers?” You asked him tentatively. Most of your other friends lived outside of London, and the only real pal you had made out in Italy was Fraser, and he was still out at the base. You weren’t sure whether Peggy would join if you asked her. Sometimes it was physically painful asking somebody to spend time with you, only to be told ‘oh I’d love to but I’m just so busy’. That always meant ‘no’.

“I’ll ask the guys from the 107th too. They’d enjoy experiencing an old English pub I think.” Bucky smiled, although from his eyes you could see that the thought was making him feel tired.

As Joey smiled and beckoned you both to get a better view of the stage, you pulled Bucky close and whispered, “If the pub gets too intense tomorrow, just say ‘custard creams’ to me and we’ll leave.”

Bucky giggled, “What are custard creams?”

“They’re vanilla flavoured biscuits, although you can’t often get them these days with rationing. I thought it would make a good code word.”

“Custard creams.” Bucky grinned. “I’ll remember.” He stopped and looked at you as you found some places in the aisle. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I get tired quite easily these days. It’s good to know I have an out tomorrow if I want to go home.”

“My friend Judith and I used to do something similar at university parties. Around 1 o’clock in the morning people either get very sleepy or very loud, and it stops being fun. So we would say ‘I have to be up for the milkman tomorrow’ and that would be our code to leave.”

“Why the milkman? Doesn’t the milkman just leave the bottles outside the door?”

You shrugged. “People would be too drunk to apply any logic to the statement.”

Bucky giggled again. “Well, ’custard creams’ is much easier to remember.” He said fondly.

Just then, the orchestra started, and the singer strutted on stage. He started a bright, energetic song. As he approached the first chorus, a line of dancers started to appear.

The rhythm of the steps, the piano, the singing… It was all so wonderful, the way it was affecting your body and making you want to move.

God, you had missed music. You had missed it so much.

You started to sway to the music, your hands up and waving in a manner you had seen stage performers do. Joey, laughing, joined you.

Bucky just wrapped his arms around your waist and swayed with you. His body was relaxing against yours, and although you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was smiling.

***

As Bucky walked you to your door, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. The thought of asking him to go to bed with you had been on your mind since your kiss in the woods. In fact, you had been thinking about it constantly.

But just asking him ‘would you like to come in and sleep with me’ just wasn’t the way things were done.

“Do you want to come in for tea?” You asked instead. “Thea said that my neighbour Mrs Penlington dropped round some things yesterday, so there’s not a lot but we can…”

“I have to report to the SSR accommodation unfortunately.” Bucky said with a furrowed brow. He took you in his arms gently. “Tell you what, let’s meet tomorrow, before the pub thing with your friend. We can go for a walk in the park and have lunch? Then I’ll tell the guys to meet us at the pub.”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good.” You said, trying to hide your disappointment as he kissed you.

After Bucky left, you sat pondering over his words.

Safely in your flat, unpacking your things, refamiliarizing yourself with the old place, you replayed the interaction in your head.

Bucky was honest with you, always had been, so if he genuinely didn’t want to come in, he would have said so, but sometimes people used excuses to soften the blow.

He saw you to your door, that was something. He came with you to the Windmill. He had time to do that, so why didn’t he want to come in?

And you had spent half the train journey from Dover petting and kissing, and he had told you how much he cared about you, confessing his feelings.

Perhaps you were overthinking it all, but when you had mostly encountered dishonesty from people and had gotten used to deciphering their words like a tangled web, it was hard to tell your brain to work differently.

Maybe he was just tired. He’s been through a lot. He’s exhausted. It’s understandable that he’d want some alone time. You want alone time, you always need it after work.

But I’m here. All his. Why didn’t he take the chance?

Maybe he was just tired.

***

“This stuff’s good!” Bucky said, digging into the cottage pie in front of him.

The two of you had met for a walk in Regent’s Park, before finding a spot to have lunch. The restaurant was nice and quiet, just how you liked it, but your mind was still racing.

“See, English food isn’t all bad!” You joked, although you could hear the nerves in your voice. You were still pondering on the evening before, and were struggling to hide how tense you were.

Bucky finished his mouthful, and gestured to you with his fork. “What’s troubling you? Tell me. You kept staring into space when we were walking in the park.”

Here it was. You liked that your relationship with Bucky was based on honesty, but that didn’t make it any easier to put your feelings into words.

“I suppose I was a little sad when you didn’t want to come in yesterday. After the train journey and what you said about me maybe looking like an artwork I thought…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling bad. “I’m sorry. I guess I get a little confused when things aren’t crystal clear.”

Bucky swirled the dregs around his teacup. When he spoke his voice was sad and quiet.

“I was exhausted baby, I’m sorry. I would have just fallen asleep, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

Told you. The poor boy just wanted to rest.

“I wouldn’t have minded you falling asleep.” You told him.

“I know, I just needed some time alone after all that travelling and the excitement of the day. That and… there was something Steve said that was playing on my mind. I guess I needed to process it all. I didn’t really know how to say all of that yesterday.”

You nodded, understanding. You reached out and held his hand, smiling when he lifted it to his mouth and gave it a kiss.

“What did Captain Rogers say?”

Bucky sighed and bit his lip. “I think Steve will want me back at the front with him. Not yet, but soon. He wants to stamp out Hydra, and I can’t let him go alone.”

No. No, that’s so unfair.

“But you said you were tired! You’ve been given time to rest!” You protested.

“We have some time here. It’ll be January when we head out, February if I’m lucky. That gives me a month or two.”

“That’s not enough.” You protested. “You were… After what happened to you…” You didn’t want to put it into words. He had been through enough. He needed peace. He deserved it.

He took both of your hands, squeezing them again.

“But do you understand why I’ll have to go?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“The SSR might post me elsewhere too.” You conceded. “I’ll have to go where they send me. Or, stay put in London until the war is won. I understand duty.”

“But you know that doesn’t change how I feel about you, and the fact that I want this to continue.”

“This?”

“You and me.”

You and me. Me and him.

Not caring who saw, you got up from your seat and moved to the other side of the table. Gently, you sat on Bucky’s lap, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

As Bucky cuddled you in response, he whispered in your ear, “That old broad by the window is staring daggers at us.”

“Let her.” You replied, kissing his neck.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “That’s my girl.” He said.

***

A group of people could be overwhelming, yes, but this group you didn’t mind so much.

Dare you think it, but you felt at home.

The boys of the 107th were a little boisterous, but you had to admit, they were a lot of fun.

You got on with Gabe the best. A fellow linguist, the two of you had started excitedly talking about your studies and what you loved about French and German. Jacques meanwhile was grateful to have another person who spoke his language, and you, him and Gabe had to halt your French banter and make sure that everybody else could understand you.

Morita and Dugan were sweethearts, even if they did have a propensity for sharing inappropriate jokes. You didn’t understand some of them, but Morita was drunk enough to explain them to you. That was very much appreciated, and helped you understand the humour. Falsworth was a little posh and stiff upper lipped, but charming too. He had scolded Dugan and Morita for sharing such obscene jokes with ‘a lady’, but when you had informed him that the girls of the ATS were just as foul-mouthed, he had laughed along and relented.

You had also gotten the chance to speak to Captain Rogers too, or, as he insisted you call him, Steve. You had only spoken to him a few times at the base in Italy, and you found him to be an absolute delight.

When Joey and Thea had arrived, you had become overwhelmed with joy. She had swept you up into a tight hug, and had insisted upon meeting your ‘friend’.

When you had introduced Bucky, she had grinned broadly and winked at you, mouthing ‘I approve’ in a way that Bucky could see. It made him blush, and you hide your face in your hands for a moment, but it was lovely.

Joey had fitted in perfectly with Steve and Bucky, while Thea joined the little French circle with you, Gabe, and Jacques. She had visited Marseille, Jacques’ hometown, for a holiday when she was employed at the Folies Bergère, and watching his face light up as they shared stories was lovely to see.

Usually, groups intimidated you slightly. There was always an expectation to act in a certain way, and the social rules were different. But tonight you felt relaxed. Perhaps it was Bucky’s presence, his kind nature, loving and accepting you.

Or perhaps, in a way, this rag-tag team felt more comfortable and safe than your own family.

***

“So, the lieutenant here tells us that you used to be a showgirl.” Falsworth said to Thea, speech slurring slightly after his fifth pint.

“More of a dancer really darling, but I’m more of a choreographer now, although I can still do a very good high kick!” Thea’s enthusiastic rambling almost matched yours, and you loved it.

“Dancing, huh?” Steve grinned. “I should pay you for some lessons, I’ve been told I have two left feet.”

“Well, I do a touch of singing as well.”

“You’ll have to serenade us!” Dugan added.

“Alright then.” Thea said frankly. “There’s a piano here, and Marge the pub landlady has a wonderful collection of sheet music.”

She got to her feet, smiling, the rest of the group looking at her in amazement.

Thea had once told you that there was no point in feigning modesty. If you had a skill, you should be proud of it. You liked that motto.

“I’ll accompany you.” You offered, standing to go and join her.

Yes, just like old times. You and Thea singing at the piano together!

Piano was something you had picked up as a child. It had been something to focus on, an escape, a way to keep your hands and mind busy while adults argued around you. Your grandmother had taught you the fundamentals before she passed away, and although you were no George Gershwin, you could accompany yourselves and others competently.

“What do you want to sing?” You asked Thea as you set yourself up at the piano with the array of sheet music.

“Something from the music halls! That’s where I got my start after all!”

That didn’t narrow it down very much.

“Hmm…” You flicked through the songbooks, until you found something. “How about this? When I Take My Morning Promenade?”

“Yes!” Thea cried, clapping her hands.

“I’ll turn the pages for you, baby.” You heard Bucky say, and he appeared from behind you, standing by the piano.

Oh you sweet, sweet thing.

“After the last war, the old boys used to love this song. It reminded them of happier times…” Thea rambled as you set yourself up, Bucky primed and ready to turn the pages.

Thea started to sing, somehow giving the provocative song class and charm. Everybody in the pub was looking at her as she sang, and you couldn’t blame them.

Everyone except Bucky, his eyes were only on you.

Well, you and occasionally the song book. Sometimes you had to tap his wrist to prompt him to turn the page.

As Thea finished her song, the whole pub erupted in applause. You and Bucky joined in. Thea’s singing never failed to make you smile, and it felt so amazing to be surrounded by music again.

As Thea gestured to you to extend the applause to her accompanist, you extended your arms and laughed, before shrinking rather shyly.

“Now let’s sing a duet, sweetie.” She said, coming over to the piano and taking a seat beside you. “Your choice.”

You knew the perfect song, no sheet music required, and as you began to play and sing slowly and with feeling, Thea was full of emotion.

“A lady known as Paris, romantic and charming, has left her old companions and faded from view. Lonely men with lonely eyes are seeking her in vain. The streets are where they were, but there’s no sign of her. She has left the Seine…” You sang.

You knew how much Thea missed Paris, her life there, and every piece of news of the occupation there broke her heart. Sometimes it helped to feel something, to sing about it, to mourn it, and that’s what this song was for.

Thea took a deep breath and started to sing the chorus with you, harmonising.

“The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, I heard the laughter of her heart in every street café. The last time I saw Paris, her trees were dressed for spring, and lovers walked beneath those trees and birds found songs to sing…”

You didn’t look at Bucky as you played, focusing instead on your duet with Thea, but you could feel his eyes on you, sense the shift in his mood.

He was feeling it too. The sadness, the grief, the nostalgia.

“The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, no matter how they change her, I remember her that way!” That line especially, you could hear Thea’s voice break slightly. Adapting your accompaniment, you shifted your left hand from the piano to hold hers for a moment.

As you and Thea finished the song, and you ended with a small flourish on the piano. The applause and sounds of appreciation were more muted, but still enthusiastic.

As you looked between your friends, new and old, and back at your handsome sergeant, there was a warm feeling in your chest.

Groups could sometimes overwhelm you, yes.

But this one here? This one felt like home.

Dreaming with Rain

Major lack of soap content on this damn app, here to feed the bicep girlies. First post kinda shy… mostly an excuse to get dirty with soap. Might cross-post on AO3 I’ll lyk

Minors DNI, 18+NSFW under the cut.

Soap x Reader

CW: Fluff, Cuddling, NSFW, Hot steamy sex, mutual pining if you squint, impreg, creampie, talk about babies, Johnny Mctavish has a big cock and its canon, fingering, I did my best at Scottish dirty talk, established relationship

Not proofed. Kinda started as a drabble, written in notes app so if it’s formatted weird that’s why. And if it sounds like a self-insert… no it doesn’t . You/Your. MC has ‘female’ parts and is referred to as a girl. Hate that there’s not more gennetrual soap content out there., and yet I still don’t contribute,, as a genderqueer person..anyway

The sun was setting, its warm light cast through your living room window, and streaks of pink and orange began to crawl up the walls. You watched the pretty sky from your spot on the tub in the bathroom. It had been a busy day already, and your feet ached from all the running around you did.

Johnny was due back sometime next week, and you busied yourself with cleaning and prepping for his return. It’s the longest you two had been away from each other since you decided to get together. You knew his job kept him distant, and each day he was gone seemed to grow longer. Originally when you first started dating, you thought his random leave of absences were due to him playing ‘hard to get’. But after a rough night of hard whiskey, truths were told about his real job.

You feared for his safety. He’d constantly assure you that he played smart, and you had confidence he was perfectly capable, but it ultimately did nothing to sooth the wrench in your gut.

The past weeks without him had been lonely. You were used to living alone for so long and it had never bothered you before, but the moment his sunshiny personality brightened your doorstep- you were suddenly aware of everything you were missing.

You stood from the tub and tightened the robe across your waist. Freshly clean and shaven you felt a little better and a slight ease wrapped its way around your shoulders. He would be home soon. Just another week.

You walked into your room to get dressed and eyed your phone on the nightstand. No new notifications.

Of course not.

Johnny didn’t take his personal phone with him on missions- he’d never compromise your safety like that. It was an honorable gesture, but you hated not even being able to have any contact with him.

There was a journal tucked neatly into the top drawer, every night he was gone you made a habit of filing a page out for him. Small letters, notes, mostly boring entries about your day. All the things you wished you could talk to him about. Things you didn’t want to forget to tell him when he came back.

He was the one who suggested it first, and so it became routine.

You slipped on some boxer shorts and a crewneck and sat on the edge of your bed, thumbing through the pages. What could you write about tonight?

‘Miss you’ you started, as always.

‘The old woman at the grocery store asked about you today. Said she’d never see me come alone before. I don’t know how- I’ve been shopping there since before I met you.’ A dry laugh left your lips.

‘Your presence is missed all over.’

A soft pitter patter tapped at the glass of your porch door. It started raining, how fitting.

‘It’s like even the world knows.’

A knock at your door pulled you from your notebook, you tossed the pen and pad onto the dresser and hurried to the front. It was almost dark, and you hadn’t planned on any visitors.

A spring of hope flashed into your chest when you saw car lights flash and the beep of its lock.

Undoing the deadbolt you swung the door open.

There stood Johnny, a stupid grin on his face and flowers in his hands.

“Johnny..”

You flung yourself to him, and he caught you with ease, the flowers crushed and forgotten between your two chests.

His arm quickly wrapped around your waist, and his head buried in the crook of your neck and shoulder. His beard was longer, and the scruff scratched against your soft skin. You let out a sigh and he inhaled in the same breath- your hearts both beating against their cages, trying to reach the other.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill.

The rain slowly grew heavier and it began to pool at your bare feet.

“Lass,” Johnny mumbled, “the rain.”

Your arms held him tight around his neck, and you had to stand on your toes to get as close to him as you could. The arm on your waist tightened and he lifted you with ease, your legs wrapping around his center as he walked you backwards inside, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He set you down and your feet slowly touched the soft carpet. You whined as he pulled away slightly to look at you. Your eyes met and the corner of his crinkled up with his smile.

“Hello.”

“Hello, bonnie.”

“You weren’t due until next week.”

He shrugged and set his duffel bag and some gear onto the floor with a heavy thwump.

“Yer complaining?”

“No.” You answered immediately.

His smile grew as he took the rest of his stuff off with a heavy sigh. You stood inches away watching him as he crouched down to unlace his boots. Once off he easily scooped you up into his arms bridal style, and carried you into the back room.

You plopped on the bed with a yelp, and he lowered his body over yours, covering you completely, his lips immediately finding yours.

You moaned into the kiss right away, his scruff scratched at your cheeks and made your lips raw, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. His breath was warm and you melted into him.

“Johnny,” you breathed out, “I missed you.”

He huffed into your lips, “Aye lass,” his kiss softened.

“I’ve missed you.”

—————

His kisses wandered down, over your jaw and he nipped at your neck, calloused hands roaming up your body. Making quick work of removing your crewneck, his body pressed more firmly against yours and you could feel his hardness press against the inside of your thighs.

You wriggled in his grasp as his touches began to get desperate and rough, hips jutting into yours. Your back arched off the bed as his teeth scraped against the soft of your chest, your hands pulling at the rough fabric of his sweater.

He took the hint and pulled away just enough to rip it off, immediately going back to your lips and bruising your waist. You wormed under him as your chests rubbed together, the taught muscle of him felt so perfect up against you. Johnny was home, and you’d never felt more secure.

Groans escaped him when you bucked your hips up, seeking more friction, his jeans were rough and rubbed your thighs raw. The wetness from the rain made his scent even more inciting and you dragged your hands down, seeking him.

“Let me take care of you.” You blurted through the kiss, and he moaned at the thought of your tiny mouth wrapped around his aching cock. You palmed him through his pants, fingers barely even able to grab at all of him, so you settled with rubbing at his swollen head.

“Fuckin’ christ,” he gasped out and ground his hips down into your hands.

He pushed himself up on one forearm just above your head, his other hand unbuckling his belt and his zipper, kicking off his pants and removing everything else, until it was just the both of you in your underwear.

His eyes met yours as he crawled his way up your body again, hands roaming up your thighs and touching every part of your body.

“You can have yer way wi’ me,” his voice got deep and gravely and it shook something inside of you- somehow growing impossibly wetter.

“And I promise to fuck you properly later,” his hand came up and over your own boxers, and his fingers dipped under the band, seeking the center of your warmth.

“But right now I need to be inside ya, love.” His thick fingers rubbed through your folds, finding your clit immediately and you shook under him, gasp and moans spilling from your lips.

He watched you from above with a cocky smirk, sinking one digit into your wet hole making you quiver and shake. You grabbed onto his bicep as you trembled, thicker and meatier than any part on your body. The hard muscle twitched under your touch and you ground yourself into his hand.

“That’s a girl,” he coaxed as he pushed another finger into you. He watched you, eyes like a hawk seeing every movement you made under him. His hardness twitched against your hip and you rolled into him- edging him on.

At three fingers now, he curled them upwards, hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over again, and a sob raked through your body as you came all over his fingers.

Your eyes squeezed shut as he continued to ride your orgasm out with you, milking all that he could. His palm drenched in your slick, thumb rubbing circles against your swollen clit.

“Christ.” He sighed out, yanking your boxers off completely, his joining your discarded clothes on the floor.

His cock slapped up in between your bodies and he jutted his hips down into you, smothering your body between the mattress and him, until all your senses were wrapped up in nothing but him. You could still smell the ash and powder from gunfire as he pressed his body into yours.

Your hands grabbed at his hair and he dug his face into your neck again. Lubing himself up with your wetness, he rubbed against your core.

“Hurry Johnny,” you whined out, wriggling your hips to try to position him lower, legs spreading wide.

“Please I need you.”

He chuckled in response.

“Desperate are we?”

“Only for you.”

He sighed and positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing slowly.

You both groaned as he entered you, inch by inch. His incredible thickness stretching you out as if for the first time all over again.

“Y’alright, love?” He gritted out, forcing himself to slow his pace, finally bottoming out inside you. His voice was breathy and accent thick with lust.

It took a second for you to respond with a nod of your head, not trusting your voice. Your core burned, and you felt so full.

“Yer words bonnie, use em.” He pulled away to get a better view of you from above. You looked so small and innocent under him, he almost felt bad for wanting to ruin you. His cock jumped at his dirty thoughts and you couldn’t help but moan and clench around the feeling of him- a loopy grin on the both of your faces.

“I thought you were going to fuck me, Mctavish.”

A strangled whine escaped him, and he instinctively ground out into you, slamming against your cervix. Your body bucked with his, and he instantly felt into an excruciatingly slow pace.

Being with Johnny was normally slow and deep like this, afraid he would hurt you he always tried to keep himself under control. You wish he’d just let go, but he still found ways to fuck you with every ounce of desperation. You were always full and smothered with him, impossible to get away. Lacking nothing- except air.

Even now with one hand gripped at the plush of your hips, dragging you down into his cock with every thrust, and the other arm wrapped around your temples, palm flat against the top of your head so he can fuck into you deeper.

You could feel your body prick with heat, and your vision blurred more and more with every slam and thrust.

“Fuck, Johnny.” You cried.

“Al’ready on it, love.” He ground out into your ear, breath heavy and hot as it fanned over your neck and chest.

The thrust of his hips grew sloppy and rough, and he groaned every time your skin slapped together, the naughty wet noises ringing in your ears. You’re sure your face and neck were beet red.

“Baby,” you bit out into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your back completely, pulling you slightly off the mattress and into him even more. Somehow he went deeper in this position. His thighs and knees bucked under you for support- his chest still flush with yours. Nipples raw as they rubbed against his pecks.

“Fuck I missed you.”

“Were you lonely?” He ground out and sighed into you neck, barely above a whisper.

“Always.” You responded, scratching you nails down his hard back, and tugging at the base of his hair. Eliciting a heavy groan in response.

“Should I fuck a bairn into ye then?” He pulled his head away from your shoulder to smother your lips with his again, tongue invading every crevice of your mouth.

“Make sure y’canna be lonely again?” He continued and the jerk of his hips became desperate and carnal.

Your core clenched in response, sucking him in so deep that he’d never leave. It was enough though, and your second orgasm ripped though you, rippling heavy from your chest down through your abdomen making your toes curl.

“Jesus lass, So. Fecking. Tight.” He slammed his cock into you, one.. two.. three more times before his own release spilled from his body- spraying against your womb in hot and thick spurts.

You felt somehow fuller, and could feel it as he spilled out of you, down the both of your thighs and onto the sheets below.

It took a handful of gasps and breaths before you both calmed enough to come back to your senses. Johnny stayed hard inside of you, relentless, but eased the both of you into a more comfortable position on your sides. You wrapped a leg around him and he hid his face in the warmth of your chest- arms tangling.

After a while your breathing grew softer and slowed.

“Oi,” he pinched at your waist and you twitched against him. “Don’t go falling asleep on me. I just got ye back.”

Your core clenched again and he ground himself into you gently in response. A sigh left your lips and you spoke into his hair.

“Did you mean what you said? About a..”

“A bairn?”

You hummed and it took him a minute to respond.

“Aye lass, if it would make ye happy.”

“You make me happy Johnny.”

You both stayed silent for a moment, contemplating and enjoying the presence of the other.

“I know I canna be here all the time-

“I knew what I was getting into.” You countered. Your grip on him tightening slightly. “There’s nothing for you to apologize about.”

“Aye..” he mumbled out again.

“But there could be a piece of me wi’you, no? Someone to keep looking after for, while I’m gone.” He pulled away slightly and rose so he could look you in the eyes.

You smiled and graced his lips with a gentle kiss. He kept his eyes on you as you lowered yourself deeper into the mattress and let the sleepiness sink through you.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, and he pulled a blanket over the both of you. “Mayhaps..”

And for the first time in weeks, you let yourself dream. Johnny whispering sweet things into your ear as you let yourself go.

—————

:) hope you enjoyed, nasty heathens. Feedback, comments and reblogs super welcomed.

High Stakes

Pairing: Aaric Graycastle x reader

Summary: You are the unfortunate target of a bet between Aaric and Ridoc

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: My first ever Fourth Wing fic!! Not sure how I feel about this one but I hope I captured Aaric's personality well :)

Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll! This is my first time writing in forever so this may not be my best work lol but I already have some work done on a few more fics so stay tuned! If you have anything you want to see with the Fourth Wing characters don't hesitate to send in a request💞

***As always beware of typos and comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!***

The mess hall buzzed with the usual chatter, clinking dishes, and boisterous laughter. Aaric sat across from Ridoc, who was looking particularly frustrated. Ridoc slouched, absentmindedly pushing his food around on his plate and sighing. "What's the matter with you?" Aaric asked, glancing up from his own plate and trying to decide whether or not he actually cared. Ridoc sighed dramatically, dropping his fork with a clink. "I had this one rider practically in the palm of my hand. She was cute as hell too. But she rejected me! Me!" Ridoc exclaimed. "Can you believe that?" Ridoc placed his elbow in the table and rested his chin on his hand. "I don't really know what to say...I've never been turned down," Aaric continued to eat his food, deciding he actually wasn't that interested in Ridoc being unable to have some unfortunate girl spend the night in his bed. Ridoc picked up his head and peered at Aaric. "Really?" He asked, with a mixture of disbelief and genuine curiosity. "You've never been turned down? How the hell do you manage that?"

Aaric replied, "I guess I just know how the game works," he said, a small smirk appearing briefly on his face. Ridoc scoffed, unimpressed. "I have game okay? And you're telling me you could hook up with any rider in here if you wanted to?" He continued. "If I wanted," Aaric said in a bored tone. Ridoc leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes narrowing with a competitive glint. "Prove it then," he said. Aaric raised an eyebrow, amusement starting to dance in his eyes. "Like a challenge?"

Ridoc smirked. "Yeah. You think you can walk up to any rider, charm them, and convince them to come to your room tonight? Prove it. If you win, I'll do your morning drills for a week no questions asked. But if you lose, you have to admit your game is weak and I'll make sure everyone knows it," Ridoc proposed. Aaric stared at Ridoc for a moment, considering his challenge. "Fine," Aaric finally said, his signature smirk on full display. "So who's it going to be? Pick someone with a backbone not one of your usual targets," Ridoc clarified. Aaric scanned the room, trying to pick the perfect rider to win the bet.

His eyes landed on you, sitting in a corner with a book in your lap clearly not interested in impressing anyone. He had seen you around before carrying yourself with a no-nonsense kind of confidence. He had been wanting to ask you out for weeks. "That one," he said, gesturing to where you sat alone. "Her? She's not impressed by anyone. She turns down anyone who's tried to get with her," Ridoc explained. "That's exactly why I'm picking her. No one else will be as satisfying to impress," Aaric pushed his plate away and got up from the table. "Fine. But you can't just pull all the cocky shit you usually do. She has to be genuinely impressed. If she comes to your room tonight, you win," replied Ridoc. "Enjoy your last few days of sleep Gamlyn," Aaric threw over his shoulder as he smoothed down his sleeves with practiced ease and adopted that casual confidence he was so good at.

Aaric sauntered over to where you sat, enjoying your book. "Mind if I join?" A voice asked you. You didn't respond immediately and instead looked up from your book to see Aaric Graycastle standing next to you, flashing you a smile. "I guess," you nodded. "But I'm not really one for small talk," you continued, returning your attention to the book in front of you. Aaric slid into the empty space on the bench next to you. "That's okay I don't enjoy small talk either," He leaned in closer, looking intently at you. "I'm Aaric by the way," his voice was lower and softer. "You didn't have to sit so close there's plenty of space," you remarked, noticing his thighs practically up against yours. Was it horrible you didn't actually mind? "And I know who you are Graycastle. We have classes together and our squads spar each other," you replied, flipping the page in your book. "Have you been watching me?" He teased. "You know, this is starting to feel like small talk," you said dryly. "Oh come on," he said, scooting even closer if that was even possible. "I've been wanting to talk with you for a while now... you're different," he went on. "Really that's all you've got Graycastle? I'm different?" You shook your head. "Not your best opener,"

Aaric merely chuckled, not allowing himself to be discouraged. Even he had to admit that wasn't his best. "Okay fair enough let me try again," he said. "I like how you value your independence, how you don't get caught up in the drama here. That's pretty rare especially for a school like this," Your gaze shifted slightly, curiosity creeping in. "Do you still think you can actually impress me?" You asked, closing your book. His grin grew impossibly wide. "I'm just getting started honey,"

Time passed and Aaric threw everything he had at you. His witty remarks, usual charm, and effortless confidence; but nothing seemed to work. You didn't seem to be interested in the usual ways that allowed him to charm girls into his bed. You simply sat there, barely listening to him, practically bored with his attempts. This is was so much harder than he had expected. He chanced a glance at Ridoc, who sat there watching the exchange with a smug smile on his face. "Listen, not that I haven't enjoyed our little conversation," you started sarcastically. "But I have to go," you started to stand up to make a hasty exit but Aaric grabbed your arm. There's no way he could let Ridoc win. "Okay wait," he begged. "Why?" You asked, but you sat back down and he loosened his grip on your arm but didn't let go. "The truth is my friend and I have a bet; I bet I could get you to come to my room tonight and if you came by I won," he confessed. "I really like you and the bet was an excuse to come talk to you," he went on.

You were silent for a moment and Aaric wondered briefly if he just made the biggest ass out of himself. "What do you get if you win?" You asked finally. "My friend does my morning drills for a week," replied Aaric. A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "And if you lost?" "I have to admit my game isn't as good as I claim it is and Gamyln makes sure everyone else knows it," he said, a little hesitant. "If you liked me so much, why did it have to take a bet for you to come talk to me?" You had to admit you were curious. "Because....you always seemed so uninterested and you turned down everyone who tried asking you out. I just didn't want to be shot down like the rest," he explained. "I didn't think Aaric Graycastle was scared of talking to any girl," you said, an authentic smile blooming on your face. "Just you," he confessed in a soft voice. Your expression changed and you gazed at him.

You had a small crush on him since you first saw him in Battle Brief but you knew he was with a new girl every week so you didn't bother entertaining those feelings; despite the fact they continued to grow. Could he be serious about liking you? "Alright Graycastle," you told him. "Alright?" He asked in a confused tone. "I'll come to your room. But I'm only coming so you can win the bet nothing else," you made a point. Aaric smiled at you but it was different this time; it wasn't his cocky grin he put on all the time it was a genuine smile and it made your stomach flip. "Really?" He asked. You nodded before standing up. "But next time, don't talk to me because of some silly bet," You said with a small smile. "Next time?" He questioned. Were you really going to give him a next time? He wondered. "Just talk to me," you told him before picking your book up and walking away.

"Goodnight Aaric," you said, reaching for his doorknob. Aaric felt felt a sense of a disappointment that you were leaving. The two of you had talked for hours and he enjoyed getting to know you. "Maybe I should adjust my shirt or something," you paused before opening the door. "Make it believable," you went on. "Maybe," he said opening the door for you and standing so close you could smell the mint on his breath mixed with his cologne. It made you want to bury your face in his neck. "But this might work a little better," he murmured, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. He leaned close, pausing only to look at you, making sure you weren't uncomfortable. You nodded, letting him know it was okay. He placed his lips over yours, one of his hands squeezing your waist. "Goodnight y/n," he whispered after pulling apart. You gave him a smile and turned to leave. Aaric watched you turn the corner and his eyes found Ridoc's, who was at the end of the hallway, gaping at him. Aaric smirked and closed his door, already looking forward to talking to you again.