#first time tumblr threw a fit

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

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Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader

Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel

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A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!

I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.

I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!

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The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.

You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.

Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.

“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.

“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.

“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”

And the rest is history…

—

You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.

Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.

Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.

What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.

You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.

—

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.

“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.

You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.

“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.

“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.

“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.

“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”

You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.

“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.

He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?

“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”

It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.

You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.

You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.

—

It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.

His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.

It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.

—

You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.

You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.

Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.

“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.

“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”

You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.

The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.

“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.

“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.

“Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.

“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.

“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.

You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.

“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.

“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.

“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.

In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”

With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.

“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.

It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.

“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.

“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.

“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”

Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.

“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”

“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”

“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.

“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”

“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.

“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”

“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.

“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”

“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.

“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”

Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”

“Like a year ago for a mission…”

“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”

Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.

“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.

You were always just the other woman.

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Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~

would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!

EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here

[eff4freddie]

Physical Therapy

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader No Outbreak AU - 4.4k words

For @punkshort's AU August challenge, in celebration of her one year Tumblr anniversary!

A.N: My prompt was 'lifeguard Joel' and I'm nursing a bit of a sore wrist at the moment, hence whatever this is was born. Thanks for the fun prompt! I would very much like Joel to save me from drowning now, please and thank you.

Warnings: None.

It had just started out as a kind of tickling feeling around behind your ear on your left side, and down along the back to the shoulder blade. When you’d first noticed it you’d thought you had a hair stuck under your shirt, and all day you kept reaching up under your bra strap to try and free it. Later, you would rub the skin red trying to lift the phantom follicle from your skin.

Later, it developed into a coldness, punctuated sometimes with ants marching up and down your shoulder blade. Your clavicle ached in cold weather, and you rolled your shoulders of a morning to try and shake the weird sensations from the joint. You were too busy to worry about it, you had too many deadlines, you could just type with your left arm resting on a pad of paper to elevate it. You knew you’d been working too hard on your paper for your next research symposium. As soon as it was over you’d deal with it.

When it started thrumming of a nighttime you’d just take ibuprofen to dull it, numb it off with a heat pack and an occasional glass of whiskey. But when it got too hard to type, when the daggers started shooting down your arm to the point that you could barely get your sleeve over it, when your shoulder was so frozen you couldn’t lift it over your head to brush your hair, you conceded defeat.

Your physiotherapist was lovely, and young, and fit, and you wished you could hate her. She ran marathons on weekends, on purpose and apparently without having first been threatened, and she gave you a bunch of exercises you promised you would do, made you pay $24.95 for a bit of stretchy rubber you could tie to your doorknob and stretch with, a couple of strength building exercises printed out and folded neatly, which you immediately threw on your coffee table and used as a coaster.

You went twice a week after work. She massaged you until you had tears in your eyes, biting back the pain by clamping down on your back teeth. You lied to her that you’d done your stretches, and she let you, because she was a nice person. Your recovery stalled, and you both pretended not to know why.

In the end, you just got fed up with yourself. You’d had to push back your presentation at the symposium, had found it too painful to sit at your desk for the long stretches it would take to be prepared. Your supervisor had insisted you take time off, that your PhD could be extended, and you had balked at the idea and then, eventually, conceded that too. Your stupid frozen shoulder was icing out everything in your life you cared about. You suggested to your physio you might like to swim.

--

It had been a while since you’d been in a bathing suit. Glad you’d at least thought to shave, you went into the change room dreading coming out again. You’d deliberately gone at 2 PM on a Tuesday afternoon, figuring the only people there would be either 100 years old or ladened with babies, and their bodies wouldn’t be so threatening to yours. You remembered a time when your body had felt strong, when your legs had carried you around European cities, up and down mountains. You wondered where that girl went.

You were a careful person, and you liked rules, so you shuffled as speedily as you could towards the pool, careful not to run. Your brother had slipped once, aged 9 and a half, and knocked out two of his teeth when he went down. Your mother had to wait three months to get them fixed, having to save up the fee, and your brother had whistled slightly on windy mornings. You’d teased him about it, and you felt bad about it now, holding your arm tight to your body so as not to jostle your shoulder.

The water was cool, and you took the stairs one at a time to get yourself into it. You gasped when it reached your belly, reaching down to splash yourself to try and acclimatise. It wasn’t an especially warm day, but the sun was out and it was warm enough on your skin. You sunk down, feeling the water lap at your shoulder. The relief was immediate, the cool spreading over your strangled nerves, and you let out a sigh. You didn’t think you were about to swim any laps, but it was enough to bob around in the shallow end and feel the water carry your weight. Your mind was quiet for the first time in a while. You watched two birds glide on the breeze, ducking down to skim over the surface. You hoped they didn’t shit in it as they passed.

Then, a giggle. A tittering, high-pitched thing that shattered your reverie and made you turn towards it, a scowl on your face as you looked up into the sun. A woman in a high-cut bikini straight out of the 80s was standing at the base of the lifeguard’s chair, looking up at the man sitting atop it. She was practically drooling, flipping her hair and nearly slipping out of her top. You couldn’t make him out, the glare casting him in darkness and too proud to shield your eyes with your hand to get a good look. She had all her weight on one foot so she could thrust her hip out and her chest up. You heard his voice rumble out of his chest, deep and heavy and surprisingly kind. You couldn’t make out the words. You reminded yourself you didn’t care.

--

Your physio was proud of you, and you wanted to hate her for that, too. You reported your attendance at the pool, lied about doing your exercises, and paid another $24.95 for another rubber band thing after you pretended you’d misplaced the first one. You knew exactly where it was, on the doorknob where you’d tied it the first night and then ignored it. But it was a good, if expensive, excuse.

The next time you went to the pool you chose a time slightly earlier in the day, hoping that the midday sun might tan you a little as you rehabilitated. You bobbed around again in the shallow end, experimentally rolling your shoulders and moving your arms in small semi-circles in front of you. The water carried the weight so you could just focus on moving the joint, and when the ache set in you could just float there, let the water carry you completely as you floated on the surface. With your face to the sky and the sun beating down the whole world turned bright and colourless. It sanded down the sharp edges, turned the detail to pulsing fuzz on your retinas.

80’s Bikini Lady didn’t resurface, but you got out when an entire class of 4th graders arrived for their swimming lessons. As you went for your towel you heard that rumbling voice again, booming out over the top of 20 excited kids, instructing them to quiet down so he could teach them to tread water. You wondered if that was what you were doing now, your research and your thesis gathering metaphoric dust on your laptop. Treading water.

--

It took you until your fifth visit to try an actual lap. Your shoulder had been feeling lighter, the joint freeing itself under the water just enough that you could bear the weight of the it as you moved. You had been experimenting with little half breaststrokes, just two or three with your head high over the water and only deep enough that you could plant your feet at the first twinge of pain. But you wanted to try something different, today. You wanted to make it down to the other end, even if you had to grip the lane rope and pull yourself there.

You felt eyes on you as you walked to the edge, and you turned quickly to see the lifeguard was at his station. It was early enough in the afternoon that you could see him properly, his aquiline nose, his curls unruly and chocolate brown. He nodded at you, an acknowledgement that he was keeping watch, and you nodded back to him. It was just you and a man in his 60s in the pool today.

You hissed a little as you descended the stairs, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. Today it was cloudy, and the water was cooler than you had been expecting, and you worried for a moment it would be bad for your shoulder somehow, that your muscles would be less malleable, less cooperative, in the cold. You swallowed, wondering if you really wanted to do this today. Then you remembered your thesis, and the way you had thrown yourself on dancefloors, in spin classes, ridden boys in your dorm room like your hips would never ache. You wanted that girl back. She was at the other end of the pool.

You pushed off, holding your arms straight out in front of you and using your feet against the wall of the pool to propel yourself forward, letting the momentum drift you the first few feet. With a brave breath in you spread your arms wide in a breaststroke, kicking with your legs to keep up some sort of speed. Three strokes, then four, then five and you were nearly a quarter of the way down the pool already. You just had to keep breathing, stick with it, pace yourself out. You cupped the water with your hands, pushing it away from your chest as you moved. There might have been a little twinge, but you banished any worry. You were doing it, if slowly, if gingerly.

You swam over the point where the bottom of the pool fell away, past the point where you could stand. The water felt cooler, the depth of it stealing some of the warmth, and you felt a little warning tingle up your elbow. Your neck pulled a little to the right to try and dodge the pain, and you faltered a little, lost some of your rhythm. In your surprise you’d opened your mouth and taken in a little bit of water, and you spluttered.

Suddenly your arms were out of sequence, and you were struggling to bring them back together in front of you while kicking with your legs. They felt uncooperative, like they were on different strings, and you were finding it hard to keep your neck bent up high enough to keep your face out of the water completely. You jerked to try and regain your momentum, and sent an electric shock through your shoulder, pain spreading out all the way down to your wrist. You gasped, the pain making you pull your arm into your body, trying to cradle it against your chest, and you started floundering, your nose and mouth dropping beneath the surface as you struggled to stay upright. You swatted at the surface of the water with your good arm, panic in your chest, as you tried to figure out if it was better to turn and head back to the shallows or carry on to the other end.

You heard a splash behind you, a huff of air as a body broke the surface and then an arm around your waist.

‘I’ve got you,’ he said, and you leant back into the warm body behind you, trying to suck in air.

‘My shoulder, my arm,’ you cried, keeping it tucked against you as the lifeguard pulled you to where you could stand. You gasped, choking a little on water but mostly just from shock, your face burning red with humiliation and the pain of your throbbing collarbone. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said, suddenly feeling like you wanted to cry, as you caught your breath, the man still holding you gently around the waist and leaning down to study your face.

‘You’re OK, you’re OK,’ he said, his voice like warm honey as it oozed over the panic in your brain. ‘Take a breath, I’ve got you.’

Oh fuck, you were definitely going to cry if he kept being so nice to you. You felt heat in the back of your eyes, bit down on your bottom lip so he couldn’t see it wobbling.

‘I just wanted to swim a lap,’ you said, and you could hear the desperation in it, feeling as small as a child.

‘You injured?’ he asked, and you nodded. He tugged you further towards the shallow end, led you by the good arm over to the steps.

‘My physio said exercise would help it,’ you explained, throwing her soundly under the bus. ‘I just…I thought I was ready.’ You felt the frustration bubbling over. You had a terrible habit of getting teary when you were mad. ‘It’s just been so shit, and I wanted to…I just don’t even know this body anymore, you know?’ you complained, wincing when you realised you’d just trauma dumped on him.

‘Can’t rush these things,’ he said, unfazed. ‘Gotta take it at your own pace.’ Standing up in this part of the pool the water only came to his waist, and he gestured to his belly where a jagged scar punctured his left side.

‘Jesus,’ you said, at the sight of it and also realising for the first time he was shirtless, water running in rivulets down his golden skin. He was so broad it was no wonder he’d managed to get to you in the centre of the pool in all of three strokes. You felt yourself start to tremble, and you weren’t sure it was from shock.

You’d known, of course, that he was handsome. You had eyes, after all. But up close, standing over you, hair slicked back as his brown eyes roamed your face for any sign of distress…up close, he was devastating.

‘Joel,’ he said, holding out his hand, and you took it, awkward and shy. He told you he liked your name when you mumbled it to him, and you realised he was very good at his job. You wondered where you could find an 80s bikini.

‘Thank you, Joel,’ you said, when your heart had finally settled back into its normal rhythm. ‘I’m sorry you had to…’

‘Trust me, pulling beautiful women out of the deep end is not the hard part of my job,’ he said, and then you watched as his eyes widened, like he was only just realising what he’d said, and you felt heat crawl up your cheeks.

You wanted to ask him what the hard part was. You restrained yourself, because you’d been humiliated enough for one day.

--

You skipped your next session at the pool, instead using the rubber stretchy thing to try and elongate the joint. It didn’t feel as good, and you nearly snapped it into your face more than once, and you definitely didn’t think about Joel’s golden skin glistening in the sunlight the entire time you did it. You didn’t think about his arm banding around you as he pulled you to safety, not even a little bit. The rubber thing was fine. It was going to solve all your problems.

--

You hated the fucking rubber stretchy thing. For one, it smelled like condoms but in a weirdly stale kind of way, and for two you were fairly sure it was going to rip your door off its hinges in your crappy little apartment, and you really didn’t want to have to call your landlord when that happened. It might mean you’d have to tidy up.

Also, it was late Spring and pretty soon school would be out, and the pool would be heaving, and so you had to get your shoulder back to normal as soon as possible before the place got flooded with kids. The bikini you fished out from behind a bunch of old clothes in the back of your closet was so that you could move your shoulder more freely. You were being pragmatic. You were planning ahead.

It was hotter again, the warmth of summer encroaching, and you were genuinely relieved to see the sparkling, clear water when you arrived on the pool deck. You walked, head held high and chest out just a little, past the lifeguard chair, studiously not looking but also really trying to look. You spent an extra few seconds fishing around in your back for your sunscreen, trying to steady your pulse. When you swivelled around, preparing to smear it over yourself, you glanced over at the chair.

Unless Joel had aged 20 years in the week since you’d been, and gained forty pounds and lost all of his hair, he was not on shift today. You felt yourself deflate, your shoulders slumping, your left collarbone sending out a thrum of pain in warning.

It was probably for the best, of course. You were here to do rehab. This was serious medical stuff.

You didn’t want to hazard another lap, not with Beergut McBaldALot on patrol, so you floated a bit in the shallow end and practiced making circles with your arms. You were stiff, having taken a week off to whip yourself up into a pointless frenzy over the lifeguard. The water eased some of the tension in the muscle, and you once again felt your mind start to still.

You wondered if, on his down time, Joel preferred board shorts or speedos. You couldn’t imagine him in a full banana hammock – you could, but you didn’t want to – but you wondered if he was a Daniel-Crag-In-His-First-Bond-Movie-When-He-Emerges-From-The-Ocean-Booty-Shorts kind of guy. That didn’t feel right either, though. His work uniform was boardies, and you decided that Joel was the type of guy who just wore them on his own time anyway, because they fit and they were on hand. As for what was going on underneath them. Well, that was something else entirely.

As you bobbed in the water you imagined his strong arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and letting you rest your head on his broad, tanned shoulder. You wondered if you’d be able to feel his heartbeat on your cheek, if that close you could hear his tight little exhales as he glided you through the water, held you up so that you could finally, finally let go. You sighed a little to yourself, drifting in the middle of the pool and hoping no one had any plans to swim any laps. You let your hair trail out behind you as you drifted, imagined the slight pull of the water was his fingers threading through.

--

You weren’t hungry but you had nothing at home, so you stopped off at the grocery store on the way home, your shoulder feeling better for having had a little bit of movement. Sleepy from the warmth of the sun and your weightlessness, you barely noticed the man standing at the end of the cereal aisle until you were tripping over him, his arm shooting out to catch you before you could really, properly fall.

‘Ooof,’ he exclaimed, and you knew that voice, felt the furious rush of blood to your cheeks as you righted yourself and were met with the same warm, brown eyes.

‘We really must stop meeting like this,’ he said, smiling down at you, and he was just as beautiful on dry land as he was submerged. You felt your hands start to tremble and you worried you’d drop your basket.

‘Joel,’ you said, trying to hide the comingling shame and excitement on your face. ‘You look different when you’re wet.’

Murder you. End it now. It would simply be kinder.

Joel, to his credit, just laughed a little.

‘Hair’s a lot fluffier,’ he said, reaching up to tug at it and making you want to chew on your own fist.

‘There’s that,’ you said, your voice oddly strangled.

‘You breakfast shoppin’ at 4 in the afternoon?’ he asked, gesturing to the cereal box in your hands.

‘Dinner, actually,’ you said, strangely proud at your sheer level of disfunction. ‘Ever since my shoulder, cooking hasn’t really been…’

You trailed off. Your mom had sent over a couple of frozen lasagnes, and you’d worked your way through those in a week. For a while you got dinners delivered but it got expensive, and then worst, it got boring. Before all of this started there were some nights you’d been so engrossed in your thesis you’d forgotten to get dinner at all. You missed those nights, too. To be so distracted.

‘How’s the arm?’ he asked, and you realised you were cradling it again, holding it fast against your side.

‘It’s slow, and I’m trying to be patient,’ you said, honestly, and his brows saddled. He hummed in thought, pouting his lips out a little. You fought every atom in your body not to lean forward and pull them between your teeth.

‘Your physio given you exercises?’ he asked, and you nodded, avoiding his gaze. ‘You doin’ em?’ he asked, and you were suddenly really interested in the nutritional content of your Cheerios. He snickered out a laugh. ‘No one ever does ‘em.’

‘You speaking from experience?’ you asked, and he smiled.

‘I used to…well, not a physio but I did a little personal training, and uh…basically unless I was there barkin’ at ‘em no-one did what they were told.’

Bark at me, you thought. I’ll do anything you say.

You coughed, trying to collect yourself. Fuck, he was beautiful, but you realised what you liked most was just the warmth in his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. You trusted him, you realised. You didn’t know him, and you trusted him.

‘I’m pretty sure my physio knows I’m lying to her,’ you confessed, and he smiled.

‘She definitely does,’ he agreed.

‘I’m otherwise a very honest person,’ you added.

‘I have no doubt,’ he said, with a little twinkle in his eye that made you want to gouge the things out so you didn’t have to deal with them torturing you anymore.

Instead, you looked into his basket and saw kale, a bunch of carrots and a carton of eggs. You grimaced.

‘Please tell me you’re not on a cleanse or some shit,’ you said, and he smiled.

‘Nah, you got me just before I headed over to the candy aisle.’

‘You like candy?’ you asked, and he grinned.

‘Got a sweet tooth,’ he confessed.

‘Name your poison.’

‘Reece’s. The umm…the cups.’

‘The cups. A peanut butter man?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ he said, that southern drawl appearing again. You felt it hit you like a bullseye in your core. You wondered what else you could get him to agree to.

‘A man of taste,’ you said. You were flirting over grocery items and you didn’t fucking care. You would banter about the phone book if he kept grinning with his whorish little dimples out.  ‘Thank you for helping me out the other day,’ you said, and he shrugged.

‘S’my job,’ he said, and you shook your head at him, swishing your hands in front of you as if you could push his humbleness aside.

‘Yeah, but you chose that job, and I’m glad that you did,’ you said, simply. ‘It’s a generous thing, putting yourself on the line for someone else.’

‘Always been a kind of protector,’ he said, almost to himself.

‘I can see that,’ you replied, honestly, and he turned his gaze to you, considering you for a moment. ‘Although I guess a lot of the time it’s just watching people splash around.’

‘Ain’t hard to watch some people,’ he said, gazing down at you, his jaw muscle twinging a little.  You felt your stomach do a silly little flip.

‘No?’ you asked, your throat dry.

‘Mmm-mmm,’ he said, shaking his head but not breaking eye contact. You wanted to grab his broad, golden shoulders and hitch your thighs over them. You wanted to reach up and take his curls in your fingers, pull him onto his knees and his mouth to your nipple, let him nibble where they pebbled. You wanted to drown the gorgeous fucker, just for being so pretty he was setting your brain on fire.

For a second the two of you stared at each other, trying to pretend the sparks weren’t flying.

‘That can’t be dinner,’ he said, after a while, and you realised he was talking again about your cereal.

‘I could get some grown up muesli if that would make you happy,’ you offered.

‘Wouldn’t want you to get malnourished, come by the pool and drown from lack of…vitamins,’ he finished.

‘Lack of vitamins?’ you teased, and he blushed.

‘Can’t have you wastin’ away on me.’

‘So, you’re saying I have to eat the muesli for your benefit?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘No breakfast for dinner,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can fix you somethin’.’

Your heart stopped, right there in the grocery store, in your flip flops with your hair still wet from the pool.

‘…’ you said, and he finally broke your gaze, finally allowed you to breathe for a second. He looked thoughtful, maybe even a little sorry.

‘Not professional of me to ask out the patrons,’ he said, after a while.

‘Do you work at the grocery store?’,’ you asked, bolder than you were feeling. He moved closer towards you, just a half-step, so that you could feel his breath ghosting over your face.

‘If I gave you some exercises, would you do ‘em?’ he asked, his voice so low it came straight from the Devil himself. You felt the jolt of want spear between your legs.

‘My physio might get jealous,’ you said, and he grinned.

‘As your lifeguard I feel like it’s my duty to overrule, baby,’ he said. He lifted a hand to your bad shoulder, holding it gently, supporting the joint. You sighed a little, the extra support releasing some of the pressure from the tendon.

‘If you think it’s that serious,’ you whispered, as you leant in towards him, his mouth hovering just out of reach of yours. ‘Life and death.’

‘I’m afraid I might,’ he replied.

His lips tasted like coffee and sunshine. You lifted your arms to rest them on his shoulders. There was not a single twinge.

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

The Danny Bunch x Fistfights:

Daniel's characters often get beaten up but they don't typically instigate fistfights. If they do fight back, it's with wits. Should they choose violence, their weapon of choice is usually a gun.

If a brawl were to break out, however, Erik, Zemo, Checo, Laszlo, and Niki would probably have caused it with something they said or did, deliberately or otherwise. In my mind they're not necessarily a part of the scuffle, they're just pot stirrers. Arranged the likelihood of someone having diabolical intent from left to right. It peters out by the time it gets to Laszlo and Niki, as they mostly trigger conflict with the unfiltered truths they speak. While many of Daniel's characters would probably lose in a fistfight, I see Alex, Arbo, Tony, and Andrea going down after a single punch. Why these babies would be in a physical altercation, however, is beyond me. David from Lila, Lila was originally on this list but then I remembered he did beat up his tormentor in a mad rage. I was also tempted to add dorky ol' Marek but then he looks way too fit to be knocked out so easily. Marko would obviously win in a punching match. I'm willing to bet Horstmayer would, too. Ernst slugged someone in The Cloverfield Paradox (threw the first blow and all) but that was after this person directed multiple accusations at him. He has a temper but I don't think he readily resorts to violence. There is this feral quality to him though, so if he is in one, I see him winning. Zemo could take on a horde of non-enhanced fighters any day. Daniel (Weltz), Tobias, and Sebastian I see running away from shit they probably stirred, the scumbags. Zemo chooses his battles. He's a skilled fighter but against, say, the Avengers or the Dora Milaje, he knows he's better off ditching the scene or pitting them against each other. Lutz, Klaus, and Frederick go apeshit when cornered or scorned. They go from nasty to full-on Nazi. To Zemo, bombs are an acceptable means to an end—a literal tool in the arsenal. Should anything stand in the way of his mission, he will make them go BOOM.

*** p.s. if it isn't obvious already, Zemo appears four times because he changes tactics depending on the situation.

p.p.s. not sure who to credit for this concept since it's all over the internet but this alignment chart is adapted from THIS POST. I also do not know who coined the term "The Danny Bunch" but I've seen it in some posts. Tumblr's search system is no help, so I'm just borrowing it here.

[daisyangelbaby]

Omg, hi guys! This is my first post and I’m so shy about it. I hope you guys like it and lmk if you want have any ideas you want me to write about!

Im still getting the hang on tumblr, so sorry if it’s hard to navigate.

It had been a long week of silence, of missed calls, and stolen moments that felt like they were slipping through your fingers like sand. You and Satoru had built a beautiful relationship, one that was filled with laughter, shared dreams, and quiet evenings filled with soft conversations that stretched long into the night. But lately, the reality of his responsibilities as the strongest sorcerer had crept in, demanding more of his time and often leaving you alone in your shared apartment, counting the hours until he'd return.

As the rain pattered softly against your window, you found yourself curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you as you flipped through an old photo album. You traced the familiar smile on Satoru’s face, a smile that always made your stomach flutter, remembering simpler times filled with adventures and moments of connection. It was during one of these sentimental reveries that your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You picked up your phone, still half-lost in nostalgia, only to see a message from Shoko that made your heart drop.

Shoko: *one attachment*

Shoko: Who is she?

Your hands trembled slightly as you clicked on the attachment. A photograph loaded, and your breath hitched in your throat. There sat Satoru, dressed casually, with a beautiful woman gleaming beside him. They were laughing together, far too close for comfort, as if sharing an intimate moment over dinner. The sight made your stomach turn, and an immediate wave of dread washed over you.

“This can't be what it looks like,” you thought desperately, but the image lingered in your mind, clawing at your intuition, prompting all the insecurities you had kept at bay. You quickly navigated to Satoru’s contact, fingers shaking as you typed out a message.

y/n: hey, you almost home?

He responded quickly, as if he’d been waiting for it.

satoru <3: I’m sorry for keeping you up, baby. Something came up, and I won’t be making it home tonight. Get some rest, pretty. Promise I’ll make it up to you.

“Something came up?” You couldn't help but feel an aching sense of betrayal. He had just left you here—a promise drifting uselessly in the air while your heart pounded with anger and confusion. He promised he would never lie to you, never hurt you like this. Dread coiled tighter in your chest as your sadness morphed into something more furious.

You threw the phone onto the bed, frustration boiling over. You could feel the tears prickling at your eyes, the need to question everything you thought you knew about your relationship, drowning in a sea of uncertainty. Instead, you forcefully wiped at your cheeks, trying to stave off the wave of emotions crashing over you, but the ache remained, as cold as the sheets beside you.

Hours later, sleep finally overcame you, but it was fitful, haunted by dreams woven with doubts and shadows of betrayal.

The sound of the door unlocking jerked you out of sleep. You weren’t ready to face him. Was he coming in with that same carefree demeanor, the one that had once made you feel cherished and adored? Instead, a knot formed in your throat, a mixture of sadness and anger simmering just below the surface.

He slipped in quietly, the rain still drumming softly outside. For a moment, he stood in the doorway, taking in the darkened room as you lay under the covers, still as a statue. A sigh escaped his lips, a sound filled with both weariness and regret.

“Y/n?” he called softly, taking a cautious step toward you. His voice was everything you remembered, but it felt foreign too. You knew what was coming, knew that he would try to draw you out of your shell, but you couldn’t let him.

You kept your eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, but your heart raced when he approached, his shadow casting a warm glow over you. His cool lips brushed your forehead, and your instinct was to flinch at his touch, pulling further away from the warmth you had longed for.

“Sleepy girl?” he asked, and his tone was playful, but you could hear the lingering concern. There was a faux-lightness, the facade of everything being fine.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, a mix of vulnerability and defensiveness coursing through you. “Satoru,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he began, a smile creeping onto his face. “I was out—”

You interrupted, the hurt spilling out before you could contain it. “You were out with someone else.” The accusation hung in the air heavy and unyielding.

His expression faltered, confusion crossing his features. “What are you talking about?”

“Shoko sent me a photo…” You lifted your phone slightly, the image of him with the woman glaring back at both of you, unyielding in its implications.

His mouth opened, then closed, as the reality of it settled in. “It’s not what it looks like, I promise,” he insisted, the urgency in his tone pleading with you to listen. “I was out with a colleague. We were discussing mission strategies. I should’ve told you before—”

“So you thought hiding it was better?” You shot back, punctuating your words with the anger and distrust you felt. “I was left here alone and worried while you were out with her, laughing like you used to with me!”

“No!” Satoru’s voice rose above the soft patter of rain. “You’re misunderstanding! It was all business—there’s nothing going on between us. I swear it!”

Your heart ached, torn between the love you felt for him and the raw feeling of betrayal wrenching its way through your gut. “You didn’t even think to call? You didn’t even take a moment to think of my feelings?”

His expression shifted, realizing your pain wasn’t something easily dismissed. “You’re right. I messed up, and I’m so sorry. I thought I could handle it and spare you the worry, but I realize now I only made it worse. You deserve to know everything, and I took that away from you.”

You pulled the blanket closer around you, feeling the warmth being overshadowed by the chill of doubt. “Can I trust you still?” The question broke free from the storm inside you, a truth that needed to be faced, a raw admission.

“Please, Y/n. I’d never intentionally hurt you,” he pleaded, sincerity pouring from him. “You are everything to me. I’d fight a thousand battles just to come back to you.”

Visibly shaken, Satoru took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. In that moment, you could see the turmoil he endured, the weight of his choices pressing against him. It made your heart ache, made you remember the warmth of his embrace, the gentleness in his laughter, and the joy he brought into your life.

“Just promise me,” you whispered, your vulnerability surfacing. “Promise me that next time, you’ll tell me everything before I have to find out through someone else.”

“Always,” he vowed, a mix of desperation and hope shimmering in his eyes. “You mean more to me than anything in the world, and I’ll never risk losing you again.”

Despite your hurt, a flicker of something—some hope—began to burgeon within you. Maybe this moment, shaky as it was, could become a foundation for rebuilding trust.

As Satoru knelt down beside you, something in you began to soften. “Then let’s start over tonight—together.” You extended your hand, seeking the touch you had been deprived of for too long.

His hand found yours, warm and electric, and as he squeezed gently, you felt the fragile strands of healing intertwining. You’d need time, and there would be hard conversations ahead, but at that moment, you knew you wouldn’t have to face them alone. With him by your side, you could navigate the tangled paths of love and trust once more.

[nevadancitizen]

-> YOU'RE OUT OF TOUCH – I'VE BEEN OUTTA TIME

synopsis: you died six months ago, but you've come back to haunt johnny. not as a ghost, no – as some twisted version of you that johnny still loves. too bad you don't still love johnny, or remember him in any capacity.

word count: 4k

characters: john "soap" mactavish, resurrected! reader

trigger warnings: talk of canon-typical violence, temporal weirdness, hurt + damn near no comfort

notes: first soap fic.. hopefully i've written him well!! also i couldn't resist incorporating madness combat in this somehow lol it's taking over my life (you don't need to know anything about madcom to read this, don't worry). also tumblr user nevadancitizen using the amnesia trope again? it's more likely than you think.

Somewhere in Nevada, a battered body is denied death, so that it may be granted, en masse…

And six months ago, somewhere in Russia, you were killed in action. 

It was a single shot through the skull – nice, clean. You didn’t suffer. Despite your killer more than likely being a terrorist (or working for one), they did you right. It was probably unintentional, but they still did you right. 

Johnny couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed, even to piss, for weeks after. He was completely numb to almost everything. The world passed by while he stood completely still, laying on his side in your shared bed, spooning a pillow that was rapidly losing your scent. 

(He even tried spraying it with your perfume or cologne, but it didn’t work. It was too strong – it didn’t smell like when you wore it.)

Johnny thought all-too-often about what happened after death. He was ready to die, always has been, but he never really thought about what would happen if (or, more accurately, when) you died. He always cast those thoughts away, because he was done losing people. He was done with grief and screaming, pleading to God, and crying so hard he threw up. 

But he eventually returned to his job. He eventually put you to rest. He prayed for the first time in damn near two decades that, if there was really an afterlife, that you were in Heaven.

(He just hoped that, whatever Heaven there was, it was good enough for you.)

But again, six months ago, somewhere in Nevada, a battered body was denied death, so that it may be granted, en masse.

It is a land without sun, without warmth unless you could find it in another body. It is a land without rules, without remorse, without regret. 

It is a land of violence. It is a land that fits you well.

Despite being dead, you were sewed back together and cursed to live once more. Someone put a gun in your hands and told you, “Listen bozo, I don’t care where you’re from – just shoot!”

Of course, Johnny didn’t know this. How could he? He watched your casket be lowered into the ground. He knew it wasn’t empty – he had to confirm your identity in the morgue. 

But he can’t help but feel his stomach drop when Kyle comes rushing into his office, pointing behind him and, in a panting breath, says your name. 

Johnny immediately springs up from behind his desk and almost pushes past Kyle to get out the door. He turns down the hallway to the left, where he knows it leads to the hospital ward. 

“No, Soap – Soap!” Kyle sprints after him, just barely catching his wrist. “Wrong way, man.”

Johnny stops and, in his stunned state, lets Kyle lead him down the hallway to the right, away from the medbay, away from where you were surely waiting for him, recovering.

Kyle leads him into an elevator, scans his keycard, and presses the button for -3. They’re both uncharacteristically quiet. It just faintly registers in Johnny’s mind that the floor -3 is below the parking garages, past where anyone typically goes. 

(Past where anyone can hear screams ripped from tortured throats, really.)

When the elevator doors open, Soap’s greeted by a familiar sight. It’s a grey concrete hallway, with two soldiers on either side, guarding the way in. Doors line the hall, each one steel with a keypad to unlock it.

Gaz leads Soap down the hall and doesn’t stop for a while. Eventually, he stops in front of the last door and takes a deep, almost shuddering, breath.

Gaz inputs the code into the keypad and opens the door, nodding at the inside. “Come on.”

Soap, almost so quick he clips his shoulder on the doorframe, goes into the room. It overlooks an interrogation room, and it’s fit with a double-sided mirror, recording tech, everything.

Soap freezes when he looks into the interrogation room. It – it’s you, but… not you. You’re pacing, and Johnny can only stare. There’s a grey flush to your skin – no, your skin is actually grey – and bandages cover the back of your head, dirty and frayed, like you haven’t changed them in a while. 

You’re angry, a far cry from the person Johnny knew you to be. Sure, you could be angry, and Johnny’s seen you angry, but this…

You’re panting as you pace, fists clenching and unclenching as your eyes dart around the room. Soft mutters and expletives leave your mouth as you look around, surely looking for a way to escape. 

Johnny just keeps staring. You’re… alive? Yes, you’re not what Johnny remembers you to be, but you’re still alive. 

“Fucking – goddamnit!” You bang your fist on the steel table, causing it to rattle. “I don’t have anything to tell you! You’re all cowards –” you turn to the double-sided mirror and point at it “– especially you, Sheriff! Don’t tell me you’re not back there!”

You immediately turn away, your hands coming to clutch at the sides of your head, your fingers digging into the bandages, almost ripping them. “I swear, when I get my hands on you…!” 

“We don’t know what to do,” Kyle says softly. He looks over at Soap, his gaze obviously sad and sympathetic. “Do you want to try ‘n talk ‘em? Even if they’re feelin’ a tad… neurotic.”

Johnny can’t rip his gaze from you as you throw a steel chair at the wall, still cursing out someone named Sheriff and his lackeys. The chair bounces off the wall and one of the legs hits your shin, causing you to curse it out, too.

“Yes,” Johnny says quickly, decisively. 

Soap shifts on his feet, oddly impatient, as he waits for Kyle to unlock the door to the interrogation room. As soon as he does, Johnny shoulders past him and into the room. He hears a faint click as Gaz closes it behind him. 

You immediately whirl on Johnny, your eyes wide and your breath labored. 

“You!” You point at Johnny like it’s meant to be some offensive gesture. “What do you want?”

You move closer, and Johnny catches sight of the dogtags hanging from your neck. You were buried with one, and he kept the other. He even gave you one of his own because, on that day, a part of him died with you. But… instead of two, you have four hanging from the metal chain. 

You shove your finger in Johnny’s chest, your fingernail digging through the thin fabric of his fatigues. “Answer me!”

Soap immediately takes your wrist and cradles your hand to his chest. “Bonnie, please, calm down.”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” you bark, ripping your hand away from him. “I just lost one of my team and you’re telling me to calm down?!”

“Your team?” Soap echoes.

“Deimos!” you snap. “You – you killed Deimos.”

You take a step back, your fists still clenched and your eyes still angry. “I saw your stupid fucking Engineer murder him. He was dead from the first five bullets, and you know he knew that! But oh, let’s just make sure he’s dead by unloading clip after clip into him.”

You heave a breath, almost growling. “Let’s desecrate his corpse. All because he’s a dissenter. Let’s make it oh-so-hard to bring him back.”

Johnny steps forward, just barely moving his foot, and you jump back like he took out a knife. 

He breathes out your name, soft and unbelieving. “Are… is it really you?”

“Of course it’s me!” You turn and rest your hands on the steel table, obviously resisting the urge to bring your fists down against it. “Always has been, always will be. It’s always me.”

Johnny circles around the table and leans down a little, taking in your face. The grey makes you look dirty and unwashed, like you’ve got a layer of dirt on you that you couldn’t wash away.

You look up at him through your eyelashes. “I know you.”

Johnny’s heart leaps into his throat and, for a hopeful moment, thinks that you remember him, that this is all some sort of stupid trick, that you went MIA instead of being KIA, that this is really you. The you Johnny knows, the you Johnny loves. But his heart is crushed beneath your boot when you speak next. 

“I know soldiers like you,” you say softly. “Soldiers, produced en masse, told to shoot first and die quietly. We’re both clones, you know? But there’s a difference in what we want.”

You stand up straight, glancing at the double-sided mirror before turning your eyes back to Soap. “You follow orders. When they say jump, you ask how high. But I…” you laugh beneath your breath. “I am fighting for change. Normality. You’re comfortable living in this… this chaos.”

“Bonnie, what are you on about?” Johnny reaches across the table, trying to take your hand. You snatch it away before he even comes close.

Gaz slides into the room, holding a tablet. You whip your head around and glare at him. 

His eyebrows lift a little, and he raises the tablet, as if in a defensive manner. “Your tablet. It –”

You snatch it from Gaz’s hands before he can talk again. You set it down on the table and stare at it, waiting.

Johnny can just barely see the interface. The top of the screen reads COMBASIC .9(beta). It looks like some sort of chat room. A few messages pop up in quick succession.

FellowD9: GOTEM FellowD9: YOU WERE RIGHT FellowD9: HE WAS COMPLIANT 2BDamned: Neat FellowD9: CHECK MY SECTOR FellowD9: ANCHOR HIM NOW [user:FellowD9 IS OFFLINE]

The messages seem to relax you, even if Johnny has no idea what they’re talking about. You bring a hand to your forehead and laugh breathlessly, then set to typing.

CrosshairF6: lol hey im still alive CrosshairF6: aahw assholes gave me my tablet idk why CrosshairF6: check my sector & get me back 2BDamned: Getting Deimos right now, I’ll get back to you CrosshairF6: better do it right CrosshairF6: saw his corpse, looks like he ran through traffic [user:2BDamned IS OFFLINE]

Johnny watches as you tuck your tablet back in one of the inner pockets of your jacket, casting a suspicious glance at Gaz, like you expect him to take it back. 

Gaz raises his hands and slips back out of the room, leaving you and Johnny.

“So.” You look at Johnny. “Why are you trying to act all buddy-buddy with me?”

“You’re… you were…” Johnny sighs, an overwhelming feeling settling in his chest. “Do you remember… dying?”

“Of course,” you say, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “2B brought me back.”

“2B?” Johnny echoes. “Like, the one you were talkin’ to? 2BDamned?”

“Yeah.” You move and lean back against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s all doctor-like, y’know? Brings us back when we need it.”

“And he’s… on your team?” Johnny asks. He feels a deep pang of… something in his chest when the thought of you actually being on another team, separate from him, settles in his mind.

You nod. “Yeah. 2B, Hank, Sanford, Deimos.” You tap the dog tags resting against your chest. “We’re a team. Some of us are on a subteam, but still. We’re a team.”

Johnny blinks hard, shaking the thought from his head. “Do you remember anything before you died?”

“Some, but… not a lot. Just blips of fighting, some soldiers, then Nevada.” You shrug. “2B says that happens sometimes.”

Johnny feels his tense shoulders relax, if only a little. “Any one specific soldier, bonnie?”

“No,” you say. You look away and fiddle with your dogtags. “But I’ve got the dogtag of someone named John.”

“John?” Johnny echoes, his heart picking up in his chest. “John ‘Soap’ MacTavish?”

“Yeah.” Your gaze fixes on him again, immediately suspicious. “How do you know that?”

“That’s me, bonnie.” Johnny laughs breathlessly, moving towards you. He makes sure to stay slow and cautious, just in case. “I’m Johnny. Your Johnny.”

You move along the wall, away from him, just slightly. You seem to bristle a little, and bring your shoulders up a bit. “You’re not mine. I don’t own anyone.”

“Not in the literal sense, bonnie,” Johnny laughs, resisting the urge to trail after you. “I’m yours, romantically.”

You bring yourself off the wall, taking a step back. It’s like you’re repulsed by the idea. “I’ve never been romantically involved with anyone. You think I’ve got time for that?”

It’s like Johnny’s been punched in the gut. Tears well in his eyes and he suddenly feels so fucking sick. His feet almost come out from under him as he stumbles to the door, shaking hands putting in the code before slipping out. 

He could take the idea of you maybe not remembering him, sure. He could just re-introduce himself. He could take the idea of you forgetting the time you’ve spent together, because you’d remember, right? But the way you were disgusted by the idea of romance, the vitriol in your voice as you spoke…

Johnny doesn’t like the word ‘relapse’ because he thinks it holds too heavy of a connotation, but that’s the best way to describe what he did for the rest of the day, and into the early hours of tomorrow. He rotted in your shared bed, but instead of feeling numb, he felt his heart being wrenched by your hand, by your words. 

He just laid there, looking at his sketchbook – a good one with thick paper. The one you’d gifted him for your six-month anniversary. It’s filled with drawings of you: candid ones, ones where he had you pose (even though you were embarrassed), ones of you and him, together, doing couple-y things. 

He could only mourn what was lost, because you seemed to have absolutely no interest in recovering it. 

A week passes before you’re able to be let out of your cell. You slowly lost the fire and brimstone that filled your heart as you realized that the 141 really did want to help you. You feel better now that you have a few people by your side, fresh bandages, and a renewed sense of comfort.

(But you forgave yourself for acting like that in the beginning because, in Nevada, no one is nice. Not without an ulterior motive, at least.)

You’re practically on a leash as Ghost leads you throughout the base. He doesn’t talk as he guides you through winding hallways and up an exhaustive amount of flights of stairs. 

Eventually, he opens a door labeled ‘ROOF EXIT.’ He tilts his head towards the door.

“Someone waitin’ for you,” Ghost says gruffly. “And…”

He fishes around in his pocket and pulls out a carton of cigarettes. Your cigarettes. 

Ghost takes your hand and puts it in your palm. “Don’t set anything on fire.”

You close your fingers around it and nod. “Got it, boss.”

Ghost starts back down the stairs, leaving you and the open door to the roof. You move through it and look around. 

Johnny’s sitting, cross-legged, on the concrete roof, facing away from you. It’s dark – obviously, it’s night. You look up and take in the stars, and…

“You have a moon,” you say softly.

Johnny looks back at you, a tentative smile on his face. Like he’s scared to be too hopeful. “Yeah. We do.”

You hum and look at Johnny. 

“Do you…” Johnny glances at the floor, then back up at you. “Do you wanna sit with me, bonnie?”

You slowly move over to Johnny and sit by him. You keep a healthy distance, but you’re still closer than you’ve ever been to him before. 

“Those fags for sharin’?” Johnny asks, a teasing smile on his face. 

You look down at the carton of cigarettes in your hand. You grip them a little tighter, causing the thin carton to crumple a bit. “Sure. Don’t know if you’ll like them, though.”

“Nonsense, bonnie.” Johnny bumps his shoulder against yours. “Let’s give ‘em a go.”

You smile and take out two cigarettes. You hand one over to Johnny. They’re hand-rolled and don’t have a filter, so they look more like joints, but the overwhelming smell of raw tobacco quickly quells that thought.

“Got a light?” you ask.

“‘Course.” Johnny reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small lighter. He lights his own cigarette, then pulls it away with a sputtering cough. 

“Steamin’ Jesus, what is that?” He asks in between coughs. 

You laugh, hitting your knee as Johnny reels from the taste. “It’s good, yeah?”

“Hell no!” Johnny wipes tears from his eyes and looks over at you. Despite his coughing, a soft smile spreads across his face at the way you’re laughing – loud, unabashed.��Just like before.

You swipe Johnny’s lighter from his hand and light your cigarette, the cherry basking your face in a soft, warm glow. “Welcome to Nevada.”

“Let’s see that thing.” Johnny reaches over and takes the carton from your hand.

He turns it over, looking at it. The carton is worn, like it’s been refilled many times. There’s no warning about nicotine being an addictive chemical, just a grey box with a simple brand: G01 Choice. There’s a name scribbled on the back – Deimos, in all capital letters. 

“Deimos,” Johnny says aloud. “The man died and you stole his cigs?”

“He’s not dead.” You take the carton back and tuck it into your jacket pocket. “Not anymore. Well, he’s died lotsa times, so I guess he’s an... honorary corpse.”

“An honorary corpse,” Johnny echoes, looking down at the cigarette in his hand. He puts it out on the concrete. “Just like you, yeah?”

You take a drag off your cigarette and blow out the smoke in a single, smooth stream. “Just like me.”

A silence settles as you look up at the moon. You can feel Johnny’s eyes occasionally flitting to you, then back up at the night sky. 

“Your dogtags.” Johnny points in your direction. “Whose are they?”

You look down and tug on the metal chain, causing them to clink together. “Mine, yours, and my team’s.”

“Your team?” Johnny asks softly. “You never told me about them.”

“Yeah.” You look over at him. “I’m part of an extraction team. My partners are Sanford and Deimos.”

A pain, almost so real he thought he was actually injured, runs through Johnny when you say partners. The logical side of his brain chides him a few moments later because you obviously meant it in a militaristic sense, not a romantic sense.

“Can I see them?” Johnny asks.

You nod and take off the chain, then hand them to Johnny. He looks at the dogtags – he recognizes his and yours as being standard military dogtags, but Sanford and Deimos’ are much more… odd.

Sanford’s reads SANFORD / MELEE + EXPLOSIVES / G02 (NEG) / RETURN TO FAMILY. Deimos’ reads DEIMOS / FIREARMS + TECH / G02 (POS) / NO FAMILY. 

Johnny tilts the dogtags so that you can see them and runs a finger along the lettering. “What do these mean, bonnie?” 

You move a bit closer and lean in. “The first lines are their names, obviously. The second is what they’re proficient in. The third is what generation clone they are, and their blood types – there are only two blood types for second generation clones. And the last one is what to do with their bodies if they can’t be revived.”

“Wait, bonnie.” Johnny laughs breathlessly. “Clones?”

“Yeah, clones.” You tilt your head a little to the side. “What, you don’t have cloning technology here?”

“Of course not!” Johnny laughs.

You laugh and bump your shoulder against his. “You people are so primitive.”

Johnny smiles back at you and it’s like nothing is wrong. You both go quiet as you stare at each other until you look away.

“I, uh…” you clear your throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry for being so… abrasive. Earlier, I mean.”

“It’s alright,” Johnny says, almost too quickly. 

You scratch your cheek and glance over at Johnny, then away. “But it’s not, is it? I should’ve handled things better.”

“Someone you know died right before we talked.” Johnny reaches over and, cautiously, puts his hand over yours where it rests on your knee. “It’s expected that you don’t act like yourself.”

Your breath hitches, and Johnny squeezes your hand reassuringly in response. 

“But that’s the thing,” you say. “I’ve seen so many awful things before. People getting shot, stabbed, beaten, Hank tearing people apart with his bare hands. But, Maker…”

You drag a hand down your face, rubbing your jaw. “Deimos is young. So young. He’s only twenty-seven, and he always has a smile like he’s just tied your shoelaces together and is waiting for you to trip. And he’s so smart, even if everyone calls him a bit stupid. Yeah, he’s got a slower reaction time, but that’s what me and Sanford are for, y’know? He…”

You blink hard, trying to will your tears away. A soft, frustrated groan leaves your mouth as you duck your head and put your cigarette to your lips. “Don’t look at me.”

Johnny starts to pull his hand away, but stops when you squeeze his hand. Instead, he squeezes your hand back, averting his gaze.

To Johnny, it again almost feels like nothing ever happened. Like there’s no Russia, no Nevada, nothing besides you and him on this roof, together. But he’s no fool. He knows things have changed – that Nevada has changed you. 

You breathe out a shaky plume of cigarette smoke. “I just want to go back.”

“But you’re here now, bonnie,” Johnny says. He tries to ignore the crushing feeling in his chest, tries to keep his composure for you. “Aren’t you glad you’re back?”

“I don’t know this place.” You look over at Johnny, your eyes rimmed with unshed tears. “You keep saying that we’re together, that – that this is my home. But how can this be my home if I don’t remember a thing about it? How can you be my boyfriend if I don’t remember a thing about you?”

Johnny exhales sharply, like he’s just got the wind knocked out of him. “Bonnie, please don’t say that. Please.”

“I know violence, and I know bloodshed,” you say softly. “I know Nevada. This place, this world…” You gesture vaguely with your cigarette still in your hand. “It’s not mine.”

“But there is violence here, there is bloodshed here,” Johnny insists. “Here, we fought together.”

“But I don’t remember us being together, in any capacity!” you snap. You take a breath and try your best to soften your words. “All I remember from before is just flashes. I didn’t remember your face. I just had your dogtag and a weird, empty feeling.”

Johnny sighs and feels tears welling up in his eyes. He can’t tear his gaze away from you. 

“You really expected me to trace the bullet and sift through fleeting memories when there was an entire agency playing Pinkertons knocking down our door?” you ask softly. “2B was bandaging my head ‘cause he just finished playing around in my brains and Sanford was shoving a gun in my hands. They pointed me in a direction and told me to shoot. I didn’t have the time to remember you.

“I’m sorry, but I just didn’t.” You squeeze his hand before letting it go.

Johnny immediately scrambles to catch your hand in both of his, holding on desperately. “No, bonnie, please.”

A few tears slip down Johnny’s cheeks as he looks at you. Your face is a mirror of his own, just in greyscale. Your cheeks are stained with tears and your eyes are just beginning to get a bit puffy. 

“If you know you’re gonna be leaving again, then just let me hold your hand,” Johnny says softly, his voice wavering. “Just for a few more minutes.”

You nod and, when you blink, a tear rolls down your already-wet cheek. “Okay.”

Johnny slowly moves so that you’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder to him. He hesitates before resting his head on your shoulder. You smell just like how he remembers, albeit tinged with the acrid tang of G01 Choice cigarette smoke. You’re just as beautiful as the day he lost you.

“Okay.”

[xoxo-sarah]

ugh daryl or rick x reader but the reader is reading shy and they yell at the reader and the reader cries 😣😣 but comfort and stuff

Bunny

↝a/n: not really sure if this lives up to your expectations, but this is the first time I've written for TWD openly.

↝pairing: platonic!Daryl Dixon x reader

↝ Warning: reader getting yelled at, mention of Carl's death, reader's nickname is Bunny (platonically!), not proofread

↝⎙ 4.30.23

You were walking behind Daryl, talking his ear off about the comic you had found in an old, broken down store. You hadn't really realized how much you were talking and who you were talking to. Carl used to listen to you ramble on and on about the comics, but he saw where you came from. Daryl had never been one for them. A squirrel crawling up a tree caught his attention. He brought his bow up, aiming until you went through one of your fits, your voice going up an octave as you got excited. The squirrel scurried off.

Daryl had swung around, glaring at you through his eyelids. "Do ya ever shut up? There just went our dinner because you can't be quiet about a stupid comic book!" He had never raised his voice at you. Sure, you've seen him angry, but it was never directed towards you. He saw you as his own, never wanting to hurt you.

"Bunny,"

"Fuck you." Any trace of a tear was gone, replaced by a straight face. You walked right past him, in the direction that the squirrel had gone off to.

He went after you, kicking himself. He knew you hated getting yelled at. It was like an off switch for you. All excitement had been drained from your eyes.

He waited, giving you space, where you weren't in his line of sight, but he could track where you went, seeing your footprints in the dirt.

As he was walking, he stared at the ground until your shoes were in front of his. He looked up, seeing you holding the dead squirrel by its back legs. "Here's dinner, asshole." He caught the squirrel as you threw it.

Daryl watched your face as you looked deep into the flames of the small campfire he had made to cook the meat of the squirrel and keep you warm in the Autumn night air.

"Bunny, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at ya. I just hadn't found any food for ya and when I did, it ran away."

Daryl has never been one to apologize, but always been one to grumble and mumble back. But he couldn't just let you off thinking he wasn't sorry. He wouldn't be able to live if something were to happen to you and you ended up thinking he wasn't sorry. He'd blame himself for yet another death.

"Whatever."

"Don't do that." It's the teen angst, he had to remind himself. Carl went through it, he knew. "Don't 'whatever' me, damnit." There wasn't any fire behind the curse, he almost sounded desperate for you to know he didn't mean it. He felt it was his fatherly duty to keep you alive, feed you.

"It's okay, Daryl, really. I get it." Your facade disappeared, along with your posture. Your body folded in on itself, knees to your chest. "I just don't have anyone to talk to about them, anymore, ya know."

After Carl died, it was as if your world crumbled. He was like a big brother to you, and now he is gone.

You felt arms around you, bringing you into a hug. The warmth around you was comforting but it was new. He had never hugged you before. It was a fatherly hug, one he wished would take all the negative thoughts away; one to fix everything that has ever gone wrong. "Well this is a first."

He pulled back slightly, halfheartedly glaring at you as he grumbled. "Not a word to anybody, got it?"

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

[graysparrowao3]

2024 Writing Year in Review

Thank you @darkurgetrash for the tag! What a nice way to round of the year and usher in creativity for the new one. Some no pressure tags and an open invitation <3 @lizziemajestic @captainsigge @lostinforestbound @velocitross @alpydk

Words posted (on AO3, not including Tumblr posts): 156,191

Words unposted: Between the 4 WIPs ongoing, the total words unposted within drafts currently is 7,903. Huh. Not as much as I'd have guessed. Tragically, it appears I do have to actually write the damn things as they appear to not be writing themselves.

Total word count: 223,513

Fandoms: Baldur’s Gate 3. Specifically Rolan, Cal, & Lia and Rugan/Aradin centered, with a smattering of other people's Tavs/Durges and their love interests.

Highest Kudos: The Night at Last Light Inn, a Rolan/m!Tav one shot.

Highest One-Shot Hits: Also The Night at Last Light Inn lol. People like to see Rolan having a good time. It was also posted at the beginning of the year at a time with more activity in general.

New things I tried: The Rugan/Aradin stuff was genuinely supposed to be a one shot where I tried writing something far more angsty and explicit than I'd ever done before. I really enjoyed it, but did not like leaving angst without exploring the underlying root of destructive and painful behaviors and emotions and finding a way to resolve it. Knowing what I do irl, this tracks. Based on the characters I thought it might not be received well, so I'm very grateful to everyone who gave it a try and saw what I was trying to do with it and gave me the confidence to keep going, including the encouraging feedback from @octoberskiies @threerattsinatrenchcoat @fangbanger3000 @lizziemajestic @vera-king-hrfl

@crowwolf @faerie-with-a-knife @forget-me-maybe @lemonsrosesandlavender @benicemurphy amongst others <3 Without community it wouldn't exist at all.

And now I'm in so deep I can't see the light any more. Hooray!

Fic I spent the most time on: Technically the one that's been sitting unfinished since the start of the year is What if...Everything Went Wrong, but though The Northern Bastards is technically a series, it's been pretty all-consuming my life lately so I think it has to win.

Fic I spent the least time on: Probably Brew, love? It was just an idea that gave me a chuckle so I threw it out quickly, but I still think it's a fun little thing.

Favourite thing I wrote: The first half of the year it was The Elturian Prodigy, which is the Rolan, Cal, & Lia fic in my heart. I took some space from it after disheartening feedback as though I always want to grow this fic stuff is something I do because it brings me joy, so for this present moment it's How To Keep a Man and Lose a Devil, my eternal thanks to @crowwolf for the suggestion to write it, I cannot wait to get the rest of it out it's turned into a real passion project!

Favourite fics I read this year: I tried to fit as many as possible during the recent BG3 fic celebration event all month, (see the BG3KudosCember posts for fics and tags!) and still have so many to read, and even that feels still woefully inadequate. Cannot believe there is so much creativity and fun and talent out there that I took so long to discover.

Writing goals for 2025:

Don't stop. Don't give up.

Get ongoing works as completed as possible.

Have more patience. Slow down and listen when you know it doesn't quite feel as you want it to be.

Believe in yourself. It's not too late.

New works for 2025: I'm hoping no new fandom works until I'm more complete with the ones I have ongoing. We'll see lol.

Thank you for all the amazing, creative experiences, and hope the next year brings what everyone needs from it. Happy new year! 🎉✨

[good-griief]

Trying Something New

this is my first tumblr fic so I hope you enjoy :) I had a friend req for an abby smut fic so i decided to post it here &l;3 cross-posted on AO3 here

Abby had been thinking about this for a while. She was never pushy, and never brought it up more than once, but you could tell it was something she really wanted. She’d asked you once, and after you nervously said you’d think about it, she didn’t ask again. 

It’d been a month since then, and you’d decided you were ready. Nothing had really changed. It almost seemed like Abby had forgotten about it, especially with the way she fucked you. You thought she might be upset after hearing your answer, but she simply said, “Okay, baby. Whatever you need,” and moved on. By moving on, that meant leaving you a whiny mess by the end of the night before she held and loved you until the sun rose. 

And that led to today. You went to a small store in the local mall, tucked down a hallway with neon lights and harnesses in the window. You went to the section in the back, almost overwhelmed by the line of dildos in front of you. 

You grabbed a harness, distracting yourself from the phallic objects momentarily before looking at which ones would fit in the harness you picked out. 

You figured Abby would want to use something big, but half of these looked like they wouldn’t even fit without breaking you— which, you figured she would also want. 

“Can I help you? You look a little lost,” a girl laughed, the nametag on her shirt telling you she worked there. 

“Oh…” You flushed. “My girlfriend wants to try it.”

The girl nodded. “Has she ever used a dildo before?” You shook her head. “Anything more than two fingers?”

“Like three,” was your answer. “Four,” you then added, making her laugh as she nodded along. 

“Okay.” She began looking at your options. “I always recommend these for first-timers.” She pointed to three different dildos, one was four inches and so thin that you thought Abby wouldn’t even bother using it, even if you did like that one, the second was six and about as thick as your fist, and the third was eight and more realistic. You blinked at her, dumbfounded, making her laugh again. “I’m serious. It’s less intimidating than it looks.” She then grabbed a different harness. “I also recommend this. It’s a lot more comfortable,” it was basically underwear with a small mound inside it, “and it has a vibe in it if you like that.” 

You ended up discussing what to do and how to warm up, which led you to getting all three dildos and grabbing several more items before you headed to checkout. 

It was a little over an hour after the usual time you got home, having also gone to an underwear store to get something nice. You kicked off your shoes, calling to Abby. “Abs?” She was usually at your apartment by now, but it seemed like she was running late from the gym. 

That gave you the time to go to your room. Quickly changing out of your jeans and tank, you put on the lingerie you bought and threw on one of Abby’s large pajama shirts to hide it. You grabbed your glasses from the bedside table, hoping to look as inconspicuous as possible by putting those on as you heard the door open. You quickly grabbed the black bag from the store, bringing it out and setting it on the dining room table before you went to the living room. 

“Sorry I’m late.” Abby smiled at your appearance. “Aren’t you cute in my shirt?” She went to hug you, kissing your cheek. “And these glasses…” She raised a brow. “Do you even need those?”

“I was studying,” you said, giving her a look. 

“Oh. Didn’t realize you did that.”

“Funny,” you deadpanned, making her laugh as she took off her shoes and set her bag down. She went to walk past you and change as she usually did after a workout, but you placed your hand on her chest. She hummed, raising her brows in question. “You know how hot I think you look after working out, right?”

She laughed. “Yeah. Why?”

“You don’t think I look hot in your shirt?”

“Pretty sure I already said what I think, babe.” She crossed her arms, looking you up and down. “What?” She tilted her head, brows furrowed in false confusion. “You want me to fuck you, or something?” 

“You’re so cocky.” You groaned at her attitude, turning your back to her to walk off. 

“Cocky would be: do you need me to fuck you,” Abby corrected as she grabbed your hand to pull you back in front of her. “But I already know the answer to that, so I’m asking what you want.”

You raised a brow at her, earning a sweet smile in return to mask her near degrading words. “You’re lucky you’re pretty. Go sit down.” You nodded toward the couch and she gladly went, already thinking over what she might do to you as you went and got the bag from the dining room. 

“I got you something,” you told her as you came back and sat next to her, making her frown. You held up the bag, the name on it making her laugh as her cheeks heated. 

“You’re joking.”

“Mm-mm. Look.” You reached into the bag, pulling out one of the items. The first was a 6 setting vibrator, which you’d gotten for yourself since you probably wouldn’t be using the vibrating harness. The second was a long, thin, curved glass dildo with a bulb at either end for g-spot massaging. You also grabbed the bottle of lube the cashier insisted you buy when you checked out. 

“I thought we might work up to what you asked me for tonight?” You suggested, leaving the strap in the bag as you set it on an armchair next to the couch. 

“You’re serious?” Abby looked from you, to the toys, then back to you as you nodded. 

She didn’t bother with any more talking, taking your hand and pulling you forward. She caught you by your hips, having you straddle her as her lips met yours in an eager kiss. 

Usually, Abby liked to take her time with you. She wasn’t one for going slow, but she loved foreplay. She could kiss you for hours, play with your tits, run her hands all over you in the most loving way possible, but by the time she was fucking you, she’d gotten herself so worked up that she couldn’t keep up the tenderness— just wanting to see you melt under her. 

Now, though, Abby was making it hard for you to keep up with her kisses. Her tongue was sloppy, pushing into your mouth and not giving you any time to react as she brought her hands to your ass. She gripped the muscle, kneading at your skin and making you sigh. 

“You know,” she moved to kiss your neck, “as soon as I saw you in my shirt… with those cute little glasses on, I knew you were up to something.” Her hands dragged down your thighs as she sucked on the skin of your neck, leaving a bruise. 

Your hands went to her hair, taking it down and having it fall over her shoulders as you pulled her head back. You pulled her shirt over her head before bringing your mouth back to hers. Your hands went to her abs, running up and down the muscles as you let out an over exaggerated moan, making her stop kissing you as you laughed.

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughed, but the humor left the room when you removed your glasses and moved off of her to get on your knees in front of her. Your mouth went to her stomach, sucking bruises on her freckled skin and making her sigh. Your hands went to her sports bra, pushing it up. She got the memo, removing her bra and your hands went to her tits, massaging slowly before you sat up on your knees to bring your mouth to her nipple. Abby groaned. 

She was always sensitive, but with the way you knew you’d be treated tonight, you wanted to toy with her a little, too. 

You could tell she was worked up by the way her hips shifted as your teeth grazed her nipple teasingly. Your hands went to her gym shorts, pulling them off with her underwear and kissing your way down. 

Before you could continue, Abby grabbed you by the hair and pulled you back. She leaned down to kiss you as her hands went to your waist and pulled you up onto her thigh. You pressed your knee against her cunt, making her hips jerk forward as you grabbed them, guiding her to grind. 

Abby’s hands went to her shirt on you, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. She stopped what she was doing. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she breathed, looking you up and down and nearly moaning at the sight. “What are you doing to me?” she practically whined, hands feeling up your body as you flushed. 

“Do you like it?” You teased in an attempt to keep your composure. It was nothing special; a lace, near see-through, white bra with attached mesh draping you thought she might like. The underwear matched, lace and brought her eyes down to it. Abby nodded slowly, eyes taking in your body and making her adjust her seating. You chuckled, pecking her lips. “I thought you might.”

“You realize this makes me want to completely ruin you, don’t you?” She asked after a moment of kissing you, having to make herself pull away. 

You hummed, nodding. “There’s one more thing in the bag,” you said as you ran your hands up her torso before bringing them to her hair to tuck it behind her ears. “You can decide if we use it tonight.” 

Abby frowned as you moved off of her, grabbing the bag and passing it to her. “I’ll wait in the bedroom,” you said with a laugh, kissing her cheek before you got up and went to the bedroom to lie on the bed and prep yourself for what you knew was coming. 

There was no way she’d pick a little glass rod, when she could be thrusting into you herself. 

At the thought of her fucking you, you’re hand went between your thighs. Your fingers pressed against your clit, over your underwear, circling slowly as you shut your eyes. 

It was only a moment before Abby came in, shutting the door quietly before walking to the bed. She set the glass dildo and lube on the bedside table, holding the vibrator in her hand. She set it on the bed as she knelt next to you. 

Her hand moved yours away, replacing your fingers with hers on your clit. “Let me do that for you, princess.” You smiled at the petname, knowing that meant she was pleased, and opened your eyes to look up at her. 

Her other hand pulled the straps of your lingerie down to expose your breasts, her hand running over them as she moved your underwear to the side to run her fingers between your folds. “This wet already?” She looked between your thighs, huffing as a smirk tugged at her lips. She looked back at you, finding your eyes. “My good girl.”

She leaned down to kiss you, far more tender than before, but that was only because as she kissed you, she pushed two fingers inside you to make you moan into her mouth as you slipped your arms from the straps of your lingerie and reached for the lube on the bedside table. 

Abby grabbed your hand before you could get the bottle. “Be patient,” she cooed. “I don’t even think we’ll need that.”

She sped the pace of her fingers when you looked at her with wide eyes, making you immediately shut them as you turned your head into the pillow. 

Abby chuckled, mouth going to your neck to kiss softly. The gentle feeling made even more wetness pool between your thighs and allowed Abby to slip in a third finger. You whined, squeezing the hand Abby was still holding as she moved her mouth to your breasts, feeling as each flick of her tongue got you even more aroused. 

Her fingers fit inside you with ease, and she loved it. She loved the way you just melted into her. She pumped rougher as your arousal grew, pooling on the sheets beneath you. 

You knew she wasn’t stretching you on purpose. She wanted to stretch you with the strap. She wanted to hear her princess whine and moan as she took her cock. You knew that, and the thought made you shudder as she played with you. 

Abby could feel you tightening around her, a sign you were getting close and moving her mouth down to your cunt. She pushed your legs open so she had better access from the angle she was at and lowered her head. Her lips wrapped around your clit, sucking the bud into her mouth so she could flick her tongue against you. 

You grabbed her hair, gripping the roots as she alternated circling and flicking. Her fingers pushed deeper inside you as your hips rose into her mouth, your moans becoming pants as you came close. 

Just as you were about to come undone, Abby broke all contact. She already had a hand on your thigh to sooth you— also keeping your legs open as you whined, grabbing the pillow to push your face into as your chest heaved. You didn't want Abby to hear that you could cry from this, though she already knew, she would just tease you and make it go on even longer until you really were crying. 

“You’re okay,” she soothed, bringing her hand to the silicone cock resting between her thighs. She used your juices as lube, stroking her hand up and down the veiny toy before she moved between your thighs. “I’ll take good care of you, baby. Please, don't cry,” her tone was taunting, telling you that if you did, she would make sure you had a reason to. 

“I’m not…” You lifted your head and she took you by the jaw, turning your face toward her before she stroked your cheek after seeing how flushed you were.

“That’s my girl,” she cooed, smiling down at you. 

Your eyes fell to the cock between her legs. As you thought, she didn't bother with the smallest one, but she also didn’t go for the biggest which made you sigh in relief. 

Abby laughed at that, knowing exactly what you were thinking. “I thought about using that one,” she admitted. “But, I think I’ll wait until you’re begging me for it.”

Abby, this confident and stroking a cock between her thighs, with a playful smirk as she looked down at your swollen cunt, was a new sight that made your muscles tense. In excitement or nerves, you couldn’t tell, but you knew it turned you on. 

“You ready?” She tapped your thigh, making you look up from between her thighs and at the smug look on her face as your cheeks heated. You gave her a nod as you sat up on your forearms, watching as she slowly rubbed the toy up and down your slit. Your hips bucked, making her chuckle and making you look away in embarrassment. “You’re so fucking cute,” she said, smirking up at you. “All embarrassed at how much you need me right now.”

Whenever Abby saw how worked up you got by her, she got cocky, and that meant she also got mouthy. It would be a cute habit if it didn’t make it impossibly harder for you to control yourself. 

Not that she cared whether or not you did.

Abby aligned the tip of the toy with your hole and slowly pushed it in. A throaty moan left your lips as your eyes rolled back. When she fit the whole thing inside you, you fell back onto the sheets and covered your face. 

“You took that way too fucking easy.” She watched as your hips squirmed, taking them in a strong grip and slowly pulling the toy out. She watched your muscles tense as you moaned, uncovering your face so she could watch you like you knew she wanted. “That’s better,” she practically moaned, making you shudder at the sound of her voice. 

Abby was starting off slow, letting you ease into the feeling of the fake cock, but now that you were already so worked up, it just made it harder for you not to be a complete mess. She knew that, but she also didn’t want anything to go wrong, so she was attempting to control herself. 

With the way you were whining, she found that extremely difficult.

“Mm, Abby.” She forced herself not to speed up as you moaned her name when she pressed her hips against yours. She ground her hips into yours, the friction against her pussy making her moan just as you did. 

You reached a hand down when you heard her, knowing she must be worked up and knowing you probably wouldn’t be able to do much for her after this. Your fingers fiddled with the thick band of the underwear, finding the button on the inside and pressing it for her. 

Her hips jerked at the vibrations, making her freeze inside you as she sighed. “Fuck this.”

Abby gripped your hips harder, lifting them so she could thrust into you at the pace she wanted. She moaned at the sounds you made, watching your breasts bounce as you brought the back of your hand to your mouth to muffle the loud moans coming from it. 

Abby was moaning at the sight of you, the vibrator only aiding in her pleasure as she fucked into you deep enough to hit all the right places to make your eyes water. 

“You look so pretty like this,” she breathed, praising you to accommodate for the degrading way she fucked you. “So fucking pretty.”

Abby released your hips, pulling your leg up on her waist as she leaned over you. She grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers as she moved it away from your mouth and pinned it by your head. She leaned down when you tilted your head up, capturing your lips in a heavy kiss as her other hand went to your breasts to knead roughly. 

You squeezed her hand as you struggled to kiss her back, moaning in her mouth until you hand to break away. Abby kissed your cheek, then jaw, before bringing her mouth to your neck. “Louder, princess. I know you want to,” she moaned against your neck, dragging her tongue along your skin to make you shudder before she sucked even more bruises onto you, marking you up. 

That’s how you knew how badly she wanted this. She could hardly control herself with the way she was kissing and leaving deep marks on you. You knew she wouldn't last long like this; after wanting this so bad. For so long. 

You obliged her request, moaning louder and getting even more whiny as your hands found her breasts. Her hips jerked, but she reoriented herself quickly.

She was moaning in your ear as she tucked her head into the crook of your neck, thighs trembling as she came above you when you twisted and played with her hard nipples. Besides that, she didn't give any other indication that she’d finished so quickly. She reached down to turn off the vibrator, but kept thrusting into you as she moaned against your neck. 

The sound alone brought you back to the edge, bringing your hands to her back as your shoulders pulled off the bed. 

That was when Abby grabbed the vibrator. She turned it on, clicking the button until she was happy with the setting, and reaching to press it against your clit. You nearly screamed, gasping a moan and back arching away from her. Your nails dug into her skin as your moans filled the room. 

Abby was quick to shut you up, bringing her mouth to yours as she slowed her pace to thrust her hips roughly into you until your eyes rolled back and moans got quiet. Your thighs shook as your nails scratched Abby’s skin, walls tightening around her cock and hips jerking as you came. 

Abby fucked you through your orgasm, making you whimper as you breathed in pants. She overstimulated you, hearing the sound of your wet cunt and knowing she could get you to unravel. She circled the vibrator against your clit, your legs squeezing her until they fell open limply and liquid squirted from your pussy onto the toys and all over her abdomen. 

Abby didn’t stop until your muscles were limp and twitching in pleasure, taking the vibrator away and pulling out of you as she hugged your body to hers and you buried your face in her chest. She stroked your hair and waist, soothing you. 

She then smirked, taunting, “Thanks for letting me ruin you, princess.”

[slytherinshua]

idk if this counts as a soft thought but ... imagine a dk who used to be short when he was like 12 and used to be really nice to you then when you graduated from elementary school he vaguely told you he liked you and you went :0

and then fast fwd 4 years later, you're going to the same high school as him and he says hi and ure like shit. he grew taller. tanner, his voice is deeper (you'd always thought it'd already broken in elementary sch but turns out it didn't)

just 🫠🫠 childhood friends to lovers dk !!

first of all ty for sending smth in kimchi cause istg i was dying earlier like my tumblr is so DRY and ur the only person who indulged my boredom yayay!! also this is LITERALLY making my head spin like crazy cause just think abt it skjdks

warnings: fem!reader. mention of seokmin getting bullied both in elementary and middle school, and he gets taller, tanner, hotter, and has straighter teeth and a deeper voice by the time he's in high school. not proofread and written on tumblr which i never do so it might be ATROCIOUS but its soft thoughts anyway so it doesn't have to be perfect <3

wc: ~1.1k.

ofc you loved to spend time with seokmin when you were in elementary— like you two were practically inseparable. and you first met him when you saw him getting bullied by some jerks in the same year as you. ofc you told them to go away (might've punched one of them just to get your point across, but you and seokmin swore that you would never speak of that detail again). they were so scared of you after you threw the punch that it actually worked and they never bothered him again. and little seokmin was practically in awe of you since that very moment and ofc he develops a small large crush on you </3

but you two end up getting cruelly separated when seokmin tells you that because of the need to move for his parents' work, he's going to be put an all-boys middle school while you're still going to the regular mixed one that most of the kids from that same elementary were going to. during your middle school years, seokmin doesn't cross your mind a lot. it's only when you get a confession from a boy in your class that you're reminded of him and that last day of 5th grade.

you could’ve sworn you heard the words “I like you” fall from his lips except it was so quiet and murmured that you’re not quite sure if it actually happened or if your brain wanted it to so bad that you hallucinated it into existence. and since you're not positive that he did actually confess to you (or that he would still hold the same feelings he did at 10 as a 15 year old), you don't hope for anything else concerning seokmin. much to your 10 year old self's disappointment, because of course you had already imagined a whole life together with your best friend. you don't remember it having any distinction as to whether seokmin was still your best friend or if he was your boyfriend, but it didn't matter to you as long as he was still in your life.

but the first day at your new high school you realize that you’re so fucking screwed it’s not even funny. because as you’re looking at the list of students and what class their first period is you recognize a very familiar name and your brain practically goes blank.

lee seokmin.

and god damnit he has science as his first period just like you. so as you walk into the class you’re frantic to scan the room for any short boy with milky skin, crooked teeth, and a high pitched slightly squeaky voice that you absolutely adored at the age of 10. but he’s not there; well, at least, not fitting that description of him that you remember.

the boy who you quickly see waving excitedly to you is in fact the lee seokmin— you can tell from his name tag— but god had he changed. he had grown at least 20 cm from the last time you saw him because even sitting in his desk he looked lanky. not only his height had changed, but he had also gotten tanner. and he must’ve had braces at some point in middle school because his teeth looked straighter. and his voice. god his voice alone had your heart racing. you could’ve sworn it had deepened two octaves at least.

and it was hot.

the boy who you could only label as your adorable, nerdy, loser best friend who cowered behind you in the face of bullies was hot.

this turn of events rendered him almost unrecognizable. and you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to recognize him if it weren’t for his smile, which was as bright and beautiful as always, with or without the crooked teeth.

and maybe it was that smile that made you just a little relieved that he hadn't changed as much as his appearance had. so you gathered some confidence and walked over to the desk he was sitting in and slid into the seat next to him. you returned his 'hi' that he had shot you from across the room, and as soon as you did, you were practically tackled in a hug.

and it felt the same as his old hugs, which was a relief to your mind but not to your heart, which doubled its speed at least. before your class started, you somehow managed to get up to speed with all of seokmin's middle school years (you were so glad that he was still as talkative and unserious as you remember).

"you don't know how worried i was walking in 30 minutes ago. the school is so big and none of my old classmates go here— though maybe i should be thankful for that. but as soon as i saw your name on the student list, for some reason, i knew it would all be okay. you're here— you're actually here. so they can't touch me."

he said all of this with the biggest smile on his face and you were sure your eyes had actual hearts in them as you listened to him explain everything animatedly.

you and seokmin talked and talked and talked. he would walk you to your class just to keep the conversation going before the second bell rang and he had to race off to his next period on the other side of the building. but he didn't mind being late every time if it meant getting to hear you laugh for 3 minutes longer.

you were back to being best friends with seokmin, and neither of you could be happier. what was most relieving was how it all fit back into place without any struggle. as if seokmin was a puzzle piece that had been temporarily dropped on the floor and had just been picked up again and put back where he belonged (by your side).

you never got the courage to ask seokmin about that last day of 5th grade until your 3rd year of high school together when you had gotten a little tired of seeing a certain classmate of yours which you despised talk so openly about her crush on seokmin— even in front of him and you. so even though your throat got all tangled up as you brought up the topic, you forced yourself to at least ask him the question.

"did you like me when we were younger?"

and his answer came so easily and naturally that you had to double-take.

"of course i did. wasn't it obvious?"

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @haecien,, @amara-mars,, @okshu,, @parkjennykim,, @wootify,, @svtoose,, @seunghancore

[daisyrb-gvf]

Cruising Into Love

d.r.w. x f!reader

My first post on tumblr, but definitely not my first fic. Danny's cruise picture had this story pouring out of me, so I hope you all like it! I thought this first chapter would be longer than it is, but the next part of the story deserves its' own chapter.

Words: 3.2k

Summary: After 3 mundane months of working on a cruise ship, you're met with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

Warnings: plenty of swooning, language and brief mentions of f masturbation.

You sigh as you zip up the back of your fitted black dress. Another night, another performance. You love being an entertainer, and sitting behind the keys is as close to home as you can get on this ship, but after 3 months of your 8 month stretch, it is starting to feel so redundant, and there are only so many songs that are approved to perform at the piano bar. The boss wasn’t too pleased with your medley of LL Cool J songs with an audience consisting of mainly 50-80 year olds. Tight ass. 

“Just three more nights and you get a break,” you reassure yourself as you touch up your makeup in the pathetically tiny mirror that looks huge in this shoebox of a bathroom. 

“Alright girl, I’m off,” you say to your slightly-less-than-pleasant bunk mate. It could be worse, but it would have been nice to bunk with someone who actually seemed to give even half a fuck about you. At least she wasn’t mean. Just…distant. 

“Kay,” she replied with enthusiasm akin to a corpse, not bothering to look up from the sketch she was working on. You sighed again, feeling like you’ll never be able to chip away at that wall. You didn’t come here to make friends, but damn, a little human connection would be nice sometimes. 

– – –

Your body shuddered as you threw back a shot of tequila at the bar. “Thanks, Chris,” you said to the bartender-one of the few people who will have an actual conversation with you. He winked before flicking his eyes over to a young, classically hot dude. Boyish features, blue eyes, sandy blonde hair…you get it, but definitely not your type. 

“Down boy,” you say with a chuckle as you wink back at him. 

Settling down at the keys, the audience gives you a small applause as the chatting dies down. 

“How’s everyone feeling tonight?” you ask the small crowd, mustering up as much enthusiasm as you can. You get a small cheer, and a few whoops from the more inebriated folks. “You mind if I play a few songs for you?” A louder cheer encourages you as your hands start to dance across the ivory keys. 

Ooh you can dance

You can jive

Having the time of your life

Ooh, see that girl

Watch that scene

Digging the dancing queen

The crowd sings along with you-definitely one of the more tone-deaf groups you’ve played for, but at least they seem to be having fun. Dancing Queen is always a good opener, and one of your favorites, so you prefer to start the shows this way. 

The crowd cheers as you segue into your next number. People are getting tipsier with each song, and you have to admit, it is pretty entertaining. Drunk crowds are typically great audiences unless they get belligerent. 

“Alright, it’s been a blast playing for you all tonight,” you say as you start the intro to your final song.

I needed the shelter of someone’s arms

And there you were

I needed someone to understand my ups and downs

And there you were

WIth sweet love and devotion–

Holy shit. Who is that guy? A tall, dark, and handsome man emerged into your view after an elderly couple left the table in front of his. You miss a note and snap back into focus through the chorus. What the hell? Why is some random-admittedly gorgeous-dude throwing you off? That’s new. You make it through the second verse, but after that it’s impossible to not steal another glance. Your knees get a little shaky as you drink him in, thankfully keeping your shit together in your performance. You watch him sing along as he drums his fingers on the little bistro table. You realize you glanced a little too long once he smirks at you, locking eyes. You blush red and avoid the entire corner of the room where he is sitting for the rest of the song. Oh God, how embarrassing.  

The crowd cheers as the song ends and you take a bow before immediately walking back over to the bar…which, unfortunately, is far too near the gorgeous man in the corner. 

“One more tequila, please, Chris,” you say anxiously as he chuckles. 

“Little flustered there, aren’t you? Wouldn’t have anything to do with that yummy Greek statue of a man there in the corner would it?”

“Shut up, Chris,” you whisper, your face turning redder by the second. 

“Mmhmm, okay. Whatever you say,” he says with a smirk before walking to the other end of the bar serving the influx of post-performance guests. 

Walking out of the room, you make it maybe ten feet before realizing you left your phone behind the bar. 

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, debating on walking back now or waiting until the crowd clears in hopes of avoiding the gorgeous creature who made you pathetically weak in the knees. 

“Oh, come on, he is just a man. Get the fuck over it,” you mutter again, rolling your eyes at yourself. You turn around and make it one step before slamming straight into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” you both say in unison as large, warm hands wrap around your shoulders, steadying you. Of-fucking-course. 

“Oh, no worries!” the insanely beautiful man replies, dropping his hands from your shoulders. The summer breeze feels colder than it had before as your whole body flushes. 

“Oh-um-yeah, okay,” you sputter out with a nervous smile. Good God, get your shit together. 

He chuckles, “Your performance was great. We loved it,” he says warmly as a beautiful, tall, brunette woman walks up next to him. Of course. There’s no way this man could be single. It only makes sense that he would have one of the most staggeringly gorgeous women on his arm. 

“Yes, it was lovely!” she chimes in, hooking her arm through his as she reaches out a hand to shake yours. 

“Oh, thank you!” trying to stay as cool as possible and not show your disappointment, you shake her hand and flash a smile. 

“I’m Josie, and this is my brother, Danny,” she introduces. 

Oh. Brother. He’s her brother. The relief you feel is embarrassing and you hope it doesn’t show on your face. You sense it does, based on the tiny smirk Josie is clearly trying to hold back. 

“Nice to run into you,” Danny says with a chuckle, reaching his hand out to shake yours as well. He holds your gaze for just a moment longer than you expected. Just long enough for your breath to catch as you get lost in his dark hazel eyes…flecks of gold, brown, and green-the warmest eyes you’ve ever seen. He flashes a bright white smile that makes your chest tighten. 

“Yeah, uh, you too,” you reply with a nervous giggle, your voice barely shaky. Oh my God, you are so fucking embarrassing. 

“Come on, Dan. We’re late meeting mom and dad,” Josie says, leading Danny down the hallway. “Nice meeting you!” 

“Yeah, you too!” You stay glued in place for a moment, watching them walk away. Damn, the back looks just as good as the front. Danny turns around at that moment, catching you staring. He smirks and winks before turning back around, disappearing as they turn a corner. 

“Real smooth, you idiot,” you sigh, tossing your head back before walking back into the bar. 

– – –

You got almost no sleep that night, and it infuriated you. Losing sleep over a man you barely met. Get a grip…but, those eyes-such a warm hue, long lashes, smooth, tan skin, he had a little dusting of freckles on his cheeks and angular, almost avian, nose. His features were masculine and sharp, with a jaw that could probably cut glass, but his kind eyes and heart-melting smile made him seem so…soft. You could tell he was a man who wasn’t afraid to do some grooming and pampering. With skin like that and shiny, dark brown, perfect ringlets of hair long enough to barely brush his shoulders…yeah, he put some effort into his appearance. His demeanor didn’t seem cocky or vain, though. Confident, sure, but not full of himself. Ugh, and then that body. 

“Oh, come on,” you say exasperatedly to yourself as you roll over for what was probably the 20th time, trying to relax. “You’re not 13 years old. For God’s sake, you are 25. Act like it.” 

You take a deep breath and relax one muscle at a time, feeling the gentle rocking of the ship lulling you to sleep. You start to drift off and the image of Danny turning around to wink at you jolts you awake again. 

“What the hell? May as well just stop fighting it,” you say defeatedly, letting your mind drift off to Danny with no resistance. You close your eyes again as you try to remember every detail. His sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, slender hips and legs, but you could definitely see the muscle definition under those tight black jeans. You let out a little giggle as you remember the cheesy little shark tooth necklace dangling on his collarbone, just above a small patch of black hair dusted on his sternum. His short-sleeved top was unbuttoned just below his pecs, leaving the rest of his torso up to your imagination. You find yourself imagining how it would feel to run your hands over his warm, undoubtedly hard, stomach before smoothing them around to his back, running up to his sturdy, broad shoulders. You know what would help you sleep, but even alone in your bunk, you’re embarrassed that seeing this man for a few moments would cause you to slip your hand into your shorts. You wonder if you had met him earlier in the day it would have given you time to shake it off. Maybe take a run around the 7th floor track that wraps around the ship on the deck. But for now, you need sleep, so you do what needs to be done. Thank God your bunkmate is working the overnight shift. It only takes a few minutes before you finish with a soft sigh, drifting off to sleep seconds later. 

– – –

Hard as you tried, you can’t help but feel a slight pang of disappointment when Danny doesn’t show up at the next night’s performance, and you feel pathetic for that. This is a huge ship. It’s impossible to do even half of the activities offered, so why would he come to the same show twice? To see you? Come on, girl. Get real. The self-loathing is bubbling up inside you as you attempt to exhaust yourself by running seven miles. Does it work? Absolutely not. You’ve never felt so electric and energized. Any other time you would have been grateful, but not now. Not when, despite your exhaustive efforts, you still find yourself relieving that ache in your core before drifting off to sleep. 

Rolling out of bed the next morning, you feel a bit better. The exhaustion from your run the day before caught up to you, and your legs feel like they are on fire. Thank God. Despite the pain, you brush your teeth, throw your hair in a bun, and slip on a tank top, shorts and running shoes, making your way to the 7th floor. Maybe after today’s run you won’t even think about him when you fall into bed tonight. 

A small smile forms on your face as you close your eyes, feeling the sea breeze enveloping you as you step through the double glass doors onto the deck. Most people you know prefer to run out on forest trails, feeling the crunch of leaves and soft dirt under their feet, seeing the sun filter through quaking aspens, hearing songs from morning birds harmonizing together. You love it too, but the power and energy that the ocean offers can’t be beat. You start off with a slow jog, warming up your aching muscles, before finding your stride. You feel as if the ocean is running alongside you, the waves matching your pace. You finally start to feel like you’ve found your footing again-literally and figuratively. After your first lap you see a few more people making their way onto the deck. Most come out for a nice walk, just enjoying the view they don’t get to see often. You see a sweet old couple, moseying along hand-in-hand. Just walking silently. Comfortably together. This is a common sight around here, but you feel a bittersweet sort of heartache for just a moment before someone whizzes right past you. 

Long legs, narrow hips, mess of dark chocolate curls tickling those broad, tanned shoulders with each step, the navy blue muscle tee giving you a much better view of those shoulders as they flex and move in tandem with his strong, lean legs. Legs that he clearly enjoys showing off based on the yellow shortie-shorts he’s sporting. You increase your pace with a surge of adrenaline, but also so you can get as close as you can to the view. As he reaches the curve of the track at the front of the ship, he looks over his shoulder at you, grinning before picking up his pace. Is he…challenging you? Oh, it is so on. You weren’t an all-state track star for nothing. You grin and take a deep breath, pushing yourself faster, the excitement dulling the burning pain in your thighs. Danny hears you round the corner as you catch up to him, chuckling through his steady, heavy breaths. You’re not letting those long, sculpted legs have an advantage over you. Ignoring the burn in your chest, you surge forward faster, eventually passing him. Looking over your shoulder you catch him staring at your ass. He quickly looks away and out at the ocean. If you weren’t puffing and panting so hard, you’d probably giggle, but it’s all you can do to stay focused and not let him catch up to you. You both run another lap, taking turns being in the lead before you both give up and just run at a steady pace next to one another. 

“Okay, I give up,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “You’re good! How long were you running before I came out?” You couldn’t help but shiver slightly hearing the deep timbre of his voice between his panting breaths. 

“Oh, just barely over a lap,” you reply, doing your best to not sound like you’re dying, and failing miserably. 

“Safe to say this is something you do often?” He runs the back of his hand down his neck, wiping off a bead of sweat that rolled from his chin down over his prominent Adam’s apple. 

Taking a big gulp of air that had nothing to do with your exhaustive run, you wipe sweat from your brow and try not to stare at his neck and shoulders glistening in the sunlight. “No, this is my first time,” you say as seriously as you can manage. 

“Are you joking?!” he asks incredulously. 

A laugh bubbles up at the sight of his adorably confused and surprised expression. “Absolutely. I’ve been running basically my whole life.” Your breathing is finally starting to slow along with his, the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders still exaggerated, but not as fast. 

“Oh, thank God,” he replied, flashing that bright smile, your breathing picking up again ever so slightly. 

“Bit competitive, huh?” You walk over and grab a couple of towels and water bottles from the recently restocked shelf. 

He chuckles, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You hand him a towel and bottle and he immediately chugs half of the water, a tiny bit of it running down his chin, the small stream of cool liquid mixing with the sweat on his neck, traveling down his protruding Adam’s apple again. “Thank you,” he says, wiping his brow with the slightly scratchy fabric of the generic beach towel. 

“Oh, yeah..uh, you’re welcome,” you awkwardly sputter, yet again embarrassed by the reaction this man is getting from you for basically just existing. 

He drops his head, clearly trying to be a gentleman and hide his knowing smirk. After a brief awkward moment he looks out at the water. “Bet this never gets old, does it-getting to run with the waves every day?” 

“Never,” you reply, with a contented sigh. “The ocean is the best running buddy I’ve ever had, no offense,” you giggle. 

He chuckles back at you, “None taken. I totally understand. I wish I could do this every day.”

You both saunter over to the railing and lazily lean over the smooth, wooden bar. 

“Well, they’re basically always hiring here. Want a job?” you ask with a chuckle. 

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies, his large hands gripping the rail as he leans back slightly, enjoying the breeze. His damp curls already drying from the salty air. 

“This sea breeze is really the only thing that could do any tempting. Cruise life behind the scenes isn’t very glamorous. I’m sure whatever you’re doing now is better than this.” 

“Maybe so. Depends on the day.” 

“So, what do you do?” you ask, turning around to lean your back against the railing as you take another sip of water. 

“Danny! I thought you said you were going to wait for me?” Josie bursts through the glass doors, looking irritated. “Oh hi!” she says, flashing a bright smile-very similar to her brother’s-at you. “It’s good to see you again. You want to join us on our jog?” 

Josie is so bubbly and bright. She has that magnetic energy that people are just naturally drawn to. Matched with her staggering beauty (that clearly runs in the family), you imagine that there are plenty of unsuspecting people out there who have been left in a haze by her presence. You find yourself just a bit jealous of whatever genes run in that family.

“Oh, thank you for asking, but I actually just finished up here. I don’t think I have another lap left in me,” you chuckle, finishing off what’s left of your water. “Not after kicking this guy’s butt,” you giggle nodding your head in Danny’s direction. 

“Excuse me?” he retorts, “I do believe that it was a tie,” he laughs. My God, he has the most adorable laugh you’ve ever heard-kinda dorky, actually, and you are so glad this Greecian god has been humanized a bit, even if it did make your heart ache more for him. 

“I believe you,” Josie loudly whispered to you with a wink, “and thank you for tiring him out a bit. Now I can outrun him,” she laughed before bolting down the track. 

“Oh come on, sis! That’s not fair!” he called out, running after her. After a few strides he slowed down and turned around, running backward, “It was good to see you again!” 

You watched him run down the track, frozen in place again, until he turned the corner. 

“Guess I’ll be losing more sleep tonight,” you mutter with a sigh before walking inside to take an ice cold shower.

LOTS more Danny in the next chapter, I promise. I'm a slow-burner.

Go to Chapter 2

@spark-my-nature

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hello dear how are you? I can already feel that your Tumblr will become a post-episodes hotline for the last two episodes.

I wanted to know how strong are Paris' vampires,i remember in season 1 how Lestat called them vicious so even an older vampire like him didn't want to deal with them .The first time when we met the coven they were eccentric but didn't look much scary,even now most of them seemed normal (as normal as this kind of vampires can get) the only scariest one is Santiago.

So I was wondering was Lestat really ''afraid'' of Paris' vampires or more afraid of the coven's leader aka Armand and maybe also Santiago?

I‘m fine, thank you 💕

I think… it’s more numbers and mind set than actual strength.

I mean, they hunted them (Lestat and Gabrielle), attacked them, kidnapped Nicolas, Armand attacked Lestat and threw most of his coven into the fire…

Like, those are the first experiences Lestat makes with other vampires. Getting raped into darkness, superstition and glaring violence and aggression. Yaaaaaaayyyyyyyy 😑

What we saw of the coven was Armand‘s little fanfic version. And even that was not overly pretty. And Lestat had clocked Armand immediately as too “much“ (too needy, too unstable, too vicious) and declined the offer for companionship right away.

So I would say he was mostly weary of Armand there, and the coven under his leadership. Especially after what he learned happened to Nicki.

Santiago is a young vampire, he didn’t know him before.

And… Santiago is only a baby compared to Armand.

No, it’s Armand he’s weary of. Armand, who kills young vampires on sight. Armand, who chopped off Nicolas‘ hands. Armand, who, as a coven leader, entombed countless vampires, and executed as he saw fit. Armand, who tried to blood-rape him.

The coven reflects Armand‘s leading style to an extent, which doesn’t make it any more trustworthy. But since Armand is its leader…

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for going no-contact with my ex a couple months after we broke up?

i (22nb) dated my girlfriend (26f) for nearly three years. we were long-distance, and i had intended on visiting her post-covid (we started dating in fall 2020). the relationship was great at first, messaging each other every day and being lovey-dovey. in december 2022, things began to fall apart. she told me that i would never be able to visit her or she would be able to see me due to her homophobic parents. i told her that really hurt because that was a huge part of starting the relationship, and i wasn't sure if i could be completely ldr. we didn't talk for a week or so after that.

while we weren't talking, things began to bubble up. i realized how she was using me almost exclusively as an erp partner/person to write her self-insert fanfics and used me as a bank when she wanted to spend money on nsfw art commissions instead of her phone bill (i had to really be on her about paying back $100+ before all this), and how the relationship was starting to fade compared to when we first started dating. i brushed this aside due to my own neurodivergency (bpd, among others) and the fear of abandonment.

fast forward to summer 2023. I'm on vacation visiting my uncles and having fun as it's my first time flying alone. i told my gf before this that i was going to be on vacation and busy during that time. during my time away, she messaged me asking to continue an rp we had done before the trip, saying "it only needs two more replies". i told her matter-of-factly that i was on vacation and didn't have the time. she accused me of being harsh and told me, "i could've just said no". i talked to my uncles about this, as it was upsetting me. they advised me that "a person can be in your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime," being that not everyone will be in your life forever. i took this in and decided it was time to break up with her.

we didn't talk for a few weeks after my trip until i decided to break up with her. while telling her i didn't want to be in a relationship anymore, she asked "will we still rp and write fics together?" it was clear where her priorities lay. i said yes, and that we could continue to be friends, just not dating. this was in july 2023.

now, up to september 2023. i wrote 100ish-word drabbles for kinktober instead of longer fics so i could balance it with my college course load. i shared the link to the beginning of the collection with my ex. she suggested i write 500 words for each day instead of 100. i asked why, and she said (her exact words)

"how are you gonna write a threesome in 100 words though? this convo we're having is at 65 words rn, that's over half your wordcount"

this upset me, and i had the urge to cut her all off and act self-destructively. i decided to instead calm down and not talk for a few days as i mentally sorted it out. a few days later, i civilly responded to her, saying

"what you said about not being able to fit a fic like that into 100 words really hurt ... all I have time for between responsibilities is 100ish words, and I chose to do that rather than abandoning kinktober ... if you’re that dissatisfied with my writing, you can find someone else to write your self insert fics"

she responds while i'm on voice chat with two different friends. she says,

"i'm not dissatisfied with your writing. i did not mean what i said that way. there's no need to be spiteful."

the spiteful comment completely threw me off, and i sent the screencap to said friends i was on vc with. my instinct was to respond civilly again, trying to patch things up. my friends acted like kronk's devil and angel on my shoulder ("no, no, he's got a point"), and i ended up blocking her on every platform instead of responding at all. i feel relieved that she's out of my life.

a month later, i checked my tumblr inbox for an ask from a friend. the second message in the inbox is clearly from her, but from a side account she denied having when i brought it up to her a year or so ago (the blog sent me a meme that she had shared on her main account so i wondered if it was her). it read (paraphrased),

"it's obvious you were never gonna work on that fic or rp again! you always had an excuse to push it off. i didn't matter when i was no longer your gf. you were a suffocating datemate, and i couldn't be gone for more than 10 min, but it was ok for you to not respond for hours!"

little note: i was a full-time college student working two jobs at the time. i had very little time to socialize on platforms like discord, and i took every opportunity i took. on the other hand, my ex was unemployed aside from occasional freelance writing, was not in education, and lived at her parent's house.

i deleted the message as she didn't deserve a response, nor did i want to make it public, but how our relationship ended still weighs on me. aita?

What are these acronyms?

[dear-ao3]

okay i just got into f1 at the end of the last season. Can you explain some things to me- a hesitant Mclaren fan??

Basically why is the team so good this year and if Zak has proven the success of rookies, why don’t more teams follow suit? i’m so curious and also i wanna know everything abt Oscar and his war with Alpine?? Is Zak the team principle? why is he always there if not??

This one isn’t abt Mclaren and even tho i know it’s controversial i still don’t really understand but; What exactly happened in Abu Dhabi 2021??

alright so i typed up this whole thing once and then tumblr deleted it so now you’re getting the shorter and more annoyed version, apologies

here we go, more drama this time mclaren edition

zak brown is the ceo of mclaren racing. some ceos are also team principals (horner, i think toto?) but he is not. he’s also not an Owner i don’t think. but basically he’s the ceo of all branches of mclaren racing including f1, formula e, indycar, super e and esports. admittedly, he is a more involved team ceo. like he appears regularly on their social media pages and at the races and on the pit wall and all that, but he’s not the team principal. that’s andrea stella. andrea is in charge of the f1 team, zak is in charge of all the mclaren teams.

teams need three things to do well, good drivers, good car and good team. supposedly this year mclaren has all three.

lando and oscar get along and have proven they are both good drivers. they are on the younger side (lando is 24 and oscar is 22) and i think they’re the youngest driver pairing on the grid, but they have both proven they can do the job. they are also willing to work together, as in, none of them threw a fit if one had to pass the other and also they’re in it for the team first, personal success second. which is key. you can’t have your drivers feuding cause then they do stupid shit (ie nico rosberg and lewis hamilton)

oscar and lando have both driven the car at this point and they said it went well. but most people say the first test goes well. however, they started shit last year and then made upgrades to get better so the general hope this year is that they will start good and get better. i think lando said in one of his interviews that he was something along the lines of cautiously optimistic (he doesn’t like to say he’s confident because then it looks bad if they suck) but we will know more about the car at pre season testing this coming week.

as for rookies. not everyone signs them cause they’re a risk. and if you’re a big team with an good name and reputation then you might not want to risk it. this past year there were three rookies. nyck devries who failed to score a single point at alpha tauri and was swapped out mid season for daniel ricciardo. logan sargent who scored only one point and it was because two people in front of his dnfd. admittedly he was in a williams, but his teammate manages to score 20 something points so. and then oscar, who i think finished with 80 something points ans a few podiums. oscar was in the better car so he naturally did better, but also he still could have flopped tremendously. and that’s why a lot of the bigger teams like to have the new guys proven themselves first in a shit car cause then if they’re in a good car they’ll really do well. signing a rookie tho is a risk, as it’s been a rare occasion for them to win anything or even podium in their first season. and that’s not great if you’re trying to win a title.

when lando was signed to mclaren he had already been involved with the team for a few years. he was in f3 in 2017 when mclaren noticed him and then made him a test and reserve driver in 2018. now some people (haters) point out that Oh Lando Was A Pay Driver until he was in f1. (meaning, his dad is a millionaire and he basically backed him his whole racing career. so he didn’t have to get sponsors because he had his dad. this is basically what lance stroll does) but when he got into f1 he said he didn’t want to do that anymore because he doesn’t think that that’s what you should do in f1. some people think he only got his seat cause of this, but objectively, mclaren noticed his good performance, not the money part and in any case, his dad doesn’t sponsor him anymore. in any case tho, he had already driven mclaren cars in tests prior to getting his seat in 2019. he was also quite young. 18. but he also had a decent rookie year (not quite as good as oscar but also the car was more shit then than it was this past year).

the oscar piastri alpine drama is basically that he was alpines test and reserve driver for 2022, exactly like how lando was for mclaren. alpine was losing fernando alonso for 2023 cause he was going to aston martin and they were like oh this is fantastic we can sign oscar now and give him an f1 seat. oscar had been in the alpine drivers academy for a few years when he was in the junior leagues (which basically means that they sunk a lot of money into his career). however, aparently alpine announced that oscar was driving for them in 2023 before he had signed his contract. and oscar didn’t appreciate this.

mclaren had unexpectedly an open seat after daniel ricciardos contract was terminated early and i guess oscar had been in contract talks with them. because he tweeted this:

which is nothing short of iconic. then alpine tried and failed to sue him for 4M USD. he dodged a bullet by going to mclaren.

and then abu dhabi 2021. without getting into it too much cause that’s insane lewis hamilton and max verstappen went into the race with the same amount of points. it was the last race of the year so whoever won that race was going to win the world championship title. there a lot that happened at that race that was weird but among the weirdest thing was that towards the end of the race there was a yellow flag, and a safety car. which means that all the cars got close to eachotjer again. now, hamilton had a comfortable lead over max at this point because there were five lapped cars between them. basically, those five cars were a lap behind hamilton and verstappen. sometimes on safety cars they allow the lapped cars to unlap themselves (go around the safety car and back to the back of the grid so they’re in the correct order). and for some reason. they allowed only the five lapped cars between hamilton and verstappen to unlap themselves (which is weird and unfair) and thus verstappen ended up winning. the whole race was bonkers and batshit tho and i would highly reccomend watching that drive to survive episode because they actually show the bonkersness pretty well.

[musings-of-a-rose]

For the "Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox" game:

I thought I knew what love was, but then I met him.

The Meaning of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 1026

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Life comes with expectations. Everyone told me to go to college, get a degree, find a nice man, get married, start a family, grow old together. I intended to do just that, sort of floating through life, not unhappy but not entirely happy either. Like I hadn’t found the exact fit. 

Then I met Jeremy and my life became brighter. We met my senior year of college, literally bumping into each other in the bookstore on campus. He’d spilled coffee all down my front and I laughed, as I’d had to change my shirt earlier that day for doing the exact same thing to myself. He was studying business, his days spent mostly in the library with his nose buried in books or online, trying to keep up with the latest business trends. I was majoring in elementary education with a minor in creative writing, so I definitely spent my fair share in the library too. 

Wherever we went, we had a good time. Jeremy was respectful and kind to me, always making sure I ate, knowing that often I’d forget to. We were together about 6 months before confessing our love for one another, and at a year, he asked me to move in with him. We were well on our way to finishing the typical expectations. Everyone kept asking me if he’d popped the question or when he was going to put a ring on it. We talked about marriage and it was something we were both interested in. It was the normal flow of life.

What no one expected was for me to suddenly gain powers, become what people call an inhuman. 

It happened randomly one day. I was out for a run when suddenly, I tripped. But instead of slamming my palms into the ground, it cracked beneath me, ripples of concrete fanning out from where my palms hovered above the ground. I scrambled back and landed on my ass, scooting backwards from the partially sunken sidewalk. My breath shaking, I look at my hands - not a mark on them. It was probably nothing. A coincidence. But what else could do this?

I called Jeremy as I walked home quickly, asking him what could have caused the sidewalk to crack like that. Of course he was quick to tell me to sue the county, that the sidewalk was dangerous and could’ve seriously injured me. That was just the way he was.

I got home and took a shower, letting the hot water cascade over my shoulders, willing them to relax as I looked down at my palms again. I was so focused on what I was doing, I didn’t hear Jeremy come in. When he touched my shoulder I jumped, my hands coming up to shield myself. But then Jeremy flew back against the door, his back nearly leaving an imprint in the shape of him. 

“I’m so sorry!” I started to cry, looking down at my palms and back at Jeremy. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!”

“Y-you did this?” He choked out, staring at me.

I nod. “I thought the sidewalk was random but this? I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

He started to stand up and I took a step towards him, but he threw his hands up, fear flooding his eyes.

“Stay back!”

I stopped. “Jeremy? What..what do you mean?”

His hand scrambles for the door handle, hand scraping against the wood. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Jer..it’s me. I just..I don’t know what’s happening. I need help.” I take another step but he finds the handle and turns it, running out the door but not before he looks at me, fear and anger in his gaze.

“Get away from me, you freak!”

—----

That was 10 years ago. I never saw Jeremy again after that night and I rarely dated, never trusting anyone fully. If Jeremy could be so in love with me and leave me in an instant, how could I ever trust again?

I never went into teaching. No one wanted an inhuman teaching their kids. I did discover more about myself, what it meant to be an inhuman. Someone with powers. But I never trusted anyone. 

Then Clint Barton found me, alone and living in my car. He offered me his hand and told me to come with him, that I would be more than welcome at the Avenger compound. Unfortunately, people there still walked on eggshells around me, never sure if I’d “go off”. Then one day, a firm knock raps on my door and I answer it, breath catching in my throat at the most beautiful, troubled man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Bucky Barnes, aka The Winter Soldier.

He looked like he was bracing for the worst, for my eyes to go wide and to retreat back into my room. But it was very much the opposite, my curious eyes tracing down his metal arm and landing on the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Clint told me you needed training?”

“Oh. Uh I guess so?”

“Come on.”

Bucky trained me how to control my powers, using the skills he learned since getting rid of the brainwashing Hydra had put there. He taught me how to use my powers for my own self, using them to protect others. But he also taught me that in my solace, in others fear of me, fear of myself, of my own power, that I was not alone. He had been through the same thing and was still battling it himself. We eventually found ourselves pressed together, my legs and heart opening to accept him, all of him, as he whispered praises and love in my ear, our bodies melting together.

I thought I knew what love was, but then I met him. Bucky was the missing piece of my life that I had been waiting for. He sees me, loves me for me, isn’t afraid of me. And all of that love and adoration is reflected back at him through my eyes. I can’t imagine my life without him and I know I’ll follow him past the end of the line. 

—----

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[i-just-like-goats]

Gojo x Female Reader

Summary: Gojo's soulmate is an assassin sent to kill him

Warnings: choking, attempted murder, mentions of death

WC: 1.4k

Part 2

A/N: this is my 4th time posting this and I am so sorry. The first 3 were because of tags, this one is just cos I noticed an inconsistency in the original but tumblr wouldn't let me save my edits😭

The first time Gojo met you, he was sure he was in love.

There you were buying kikufuku, with that soft smile of yours. You captivated him in a way that no other woman had. How could he not fall in love?

And when you turned to look at him gawking at you, you smiled so brightly that Gojo's heart was immediately touched.

"Hello. Sorry, was I in your way?"

"Not at all,"

You smiled so sweetly and held his arm so gently when he offered to walk you home. Fushiguro and the finger would have to wait. He was so infatuated with every action you did that he only narrowly missed the knife you swung at his chest.

"This usually how you greet the men that walk you home?"

"Only for you love,"

Perhaps it was unwise for him to develop feelings for you when you were trying to kill him. Yet the way you were holding your own against his attacks and your raw beauty had him debating which side he was on. Maybe not to that extent, but you were definitely confusing him.

Which reminded him he needed to get back to Fushiguro. He'd definitely be scolded by his student.

"As much as I'd love to continue seeing your beautiful face, I've got somewhere to be. See you!"

"Hey!"

The second time you met Gojo, he almost didn't recognise you. Your disguise was impeccable. Even people who had known you for years couldn't recognise you whenever you put this disguise on. Yet he somehow managed to call out to you in that cheerful voice.

"Hey! Fancy seeing you here!"

You grimaced at his loud voice. Must he draw attention to the both of you in this way? You forced a smile and poured him his glass of wine he had ordered.

"Your red wine sir." You smiled.

"Come on now. No need to be so formal with me. We're so-"

One waiter had tripped and knocked Gojo's elbow, causing his wine to spill over his front.

"I apologise for my incompetence sir! I accept any punishment you see fit!"

"It's quite alright. This jacket is dark, so the stain won't be visible and it was in need of a wash anyway,"

The waiter bowed deeply and continued apologising profusely while you groaned and glared daggers at your coworker. Your last batch of poison had been in that glass of wine. The next shipment of ingredients for your poison wouldn't be until next month. What a drag this mission was.

"Say, why don't we catch up once your shift is over? I'll wait for you,"

A perfect opportunity. You smiled again.

"Of course,"

Hours passed and true to his word, Gojo had remained sitting at his table until it was closing time. Your manager had him wait outside for you while the restaurant was cleaned, providing you with an opportunity to surprise him.

You leapt deftly onto Gojo's back, wrapped your arms around his neck.

"What a nice sur-"

And attempted to choke him. He struggled in your grip.

"How cute! What a beautiful couple! Would you mind if I took a photo of the two of you?"

You immediately stopped choking him. You ground your teeth but smiled nonetheless. Gojo took several deep breaths

"I don't mind, do you honey?"

"No, of course not love,"

"You might want to loosen up, your boyfriend there looked like he was struggling to breathe,"

"That was the point," You muttered.

Gojo chuckled and posed for the photo.

"Great! Thank you!"

With that, the person walked off content with the photo. You began to constrict his air supply again, but he flipped you onto the ground over his shoulder. With a groan, you sat up and rubbed your back.

"Was that necessary?"

"A bit of payback for the second attempt on my life,"

"Alright. Well I'll be off then,"

"Leaving already?"

"Can't have you knowing where I live, otherwise you'd annoy me every day,"

"I would never,"

Gojo watched as you threw something at the ground, then stepped through the mist it created and vanished.

"Always coming but never staying. How cruel. Soulmate. I don't even know your name,"

The third time Gojo met you, he knew he would risk it all for you. Whatever side you were on no longer mattered to him. Had you been on the side of the sorcerers, perhaps things would have been much easier.

"Soulmate! Are you hurt?"

"Oh no, I'm perfectly fine thank you. The curse bit me, which took a chunk out of my leg and it doesn't hurt at all. I'm enjoying the pain so very much you idiot,"

"Alright alright I get it. No need to be so moody soulmate,"

"Stop calling me your soulmate,"

"Why? Don't you know that the red string wrapped around our fingers means we're soulmates?"

"I know what soulmates are stupid,"

Gojo pouted, "Why aren't you calling me love anymore?"

"Because I'm no longer trying to seduce you. I just need to kill you,"

"So blunt. But you don't need to kill me since you've been fired,"

"What are you doing?"

Gojo made no answer and hovered his hand up and down your leg, assessing the damage.

"Hey this isn't funny. I didn't consent to this. Ow!"

You clenched your jaw tightly as a burning sensation erupted from where Gojo placed his hand on your leg.

"There. Wasn't so bad now was it soulmate?"

"I told you to stop calling me that,"

"I can't, unless I know your name,"

"I'm not giving it,"

"Well then sucks to be you, I'm still calling you soulmate because that's what you are,"

You muttered angrily under your breath and exhaled.

"I severely dislike you because I find you insufferable and I don't know how on earth we came to be soulmates, but thank you, for healing me,"

"How did you even get hurt?" He asked softly.

"I haven't been able to kill you. It's harming my reputation and my employer's reputation, so I guess they decided I wasn't worth keeping around anymore if I couldn't kill one man and they sent me on a suicide mission. I exorcised the curse's buddy but it's still out there,"

"Why don't you and I hunt the curse down?"

"Sure, not like I have really much else to lose anyway,"

Needless to say, you got your revenge on the curse and its owner. By the end of it, both had been in tears before you exorcised the curse and turned in its owner.

"Good thinking there. You kept us out of trouble by letting him hit you first,"

"I'm an assassin Gojo, it's only natural that I know how to get myself out of situations,"

"Right. So, want to continue our date?"

"No,"

"Come on. I'm no longer the enemy am I?"

"I may no longer be required to kill you, but like I said before: I severely dislike you,"

"Bit harsh," Gojo ran to catch up with your walking figure, "At least let me feed you tonight and make sure you've got a job,"

"Fine,"

"Great!"

You slumped into the seat across from Gojo and plugged in your earphones as Gojo ordered something for the two of you to eat.

"So why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you. I just said severely dislike,"

"Alright, so why do you severely dislike me?"

"Because you're hard to kill,"

"Is that it? Shouldn't be too hard to get you to like me. You lost your job because of me, so all I need to do is get you a new job. How would you like to teach at Jujutsu Tech. I saw your physical capabilities, such little cursed energy but your fighting is remarkable. The students, Maki in particular, would benefit greatly from your expertise,"

"And you still try to help and befriend me even after I tried to kill you. Twice. You're not mad? Not even in the slightest?"

"A bit annoyed, definitely, but the determination wins,"

You took a sip from your drink, deep in thought. How could he be so kind to you after all you put him through?

"Determination to do what?"

"To at least get a friend out of this,"

He lifted his right hand, gesturing to his pinky.

"We're soulmates for a reason, we're not destined to hate each other, so I want to see if we can make this work, but baby steps. So please consider taking the job,"

"Alright, I'll teach the young sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech. Just know that I'm only doing this because I need to financially sustain myself somehow,"

"Excellent!"

Gojo shook your hand enthusiastically.

"Can't wait to teach alongside my new co-worker!"

You buried your face into your hands and groaned. There's no way he'd let you back out now that you agreed. This year would be an interesting one that's for sure.

[lamb-of-seven]

NSFW Head-Canons/Stories for the Demon Brothers Part 2 Leviathan

Prompt: The Demon boys and their favorite ways of having oral sex.

This is Levi part 2, please read part 1 first. Thank you! Part 3 is next, please look for it.

!!Minors and Ageless Do Not Interact!!

Content Warning: Very Suggestive. Discussions of Kinks, Sexual Fantasies and oral sex.

It’s Sunday Smut-Day! So here is another HC of the Obey Me Demon Brothers. Enjoy!

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““Tell me Levi, I might want the same.” You felt his body jerk, as if a shiver ran up his spine. “Well..” he started. “only if your ok with it, I mean we have been doing stuff for a while now I just want to…” “Tell me Levi.” You interrupted him, ordering him to tell you what he wants. You listened to him gulp and take a deep breath before saying “I want your thighs around my face.” He squeals out, turning his face away from you. “And?” You ask, knowing there was more to it, you just wanted him to say it. “A..a…and I want to t..taste you.” You move away from his ear and look up into his eyes innocently. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you, repeat that.” You tease. Leave threw his head back, letting out a deeper yell, as if trying to motivate himself, and it worked almost too well as he grabbed both your shoulders and practically yelled “I want to make you come with my mouth!” Levi was practically panting after making his declaration and you were now the one blushing. “Ok.” You stammer. You both sat still awkwardly a bit before rushing into action in sync. You and Levi stood up out of the chairs, Levi rushed to the bathtub, pulling all his blankets and pillows out of it and laying it on the floor for you. “You know I could just sit in the chair.” You whisper to yourself. Levi must not have heard as the next thing you know, he’s picking you up off your feet and laying you down on the makeshift bed, if it could even be called that. You laugh a little to yourself as you realize how hard he’s trying to make this romantic. Your laugh was quickly turned to pants and moaning as he used his mouth to kiss down your neck. His hands shook as they worked your clothing off and started to explore your skin. Levi didn’t rush to the main course, he took his time, running his tongue all over your body, leaving trails of saliva across your neck, nipples, stomach and then finally your thighs. His hands squeezed at them and as he laid himself down, he had your legs hiked onto his shoulders. You heard him sigh with pleasure as his face rubbed against your inner thighs. His hair tickled the skin there and his hot breath made you shiver. You felt him kid and nibble up your thighs until his mouth teased your most sensitive spot by stopping just before making contact. “Are you sure it’s ok.” Levi asked. Your response was a breathy “Please Levi.”

(So sorry posting part 3 now! Tumblr wont let me fit it all here.)