#the second time i’ve made a post with this same joke but it’s not my fault i find the similarities in the fictional men i like

[stellamarielu]

if i had a nickel for every time i fell in love with a man portraying a video game character that’s violent and a little misunderstood while avenging his daughter’s death after surviving an apocalypse, i’d have 2 nickels. which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice right?

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[doll3scent]

★ Pornstar ★

John Price x cam girl! reader

Warnings- 18+-mdni, smut, age gap, cam girl reader, mentions of divorce, explicit language.

wc. 2.5k

a/n, This is my first post, english is not my first language so please bear with me. Pt 2 where she has a private video call with a fan ?

1, 2, 3,

master list 𓂃۶ৎ

You're a star-well, in a very particular sense.

Ghost's younger sister, though few people know that. You went by the stage name Angel Valentine, a name as alluring as the persona you crafted. In all your videos, you wore a delicate black lace eye mask, never willing to fully reveal your identity. You weren't about to let the world, or anyone who might recognize you, connect your real face to the adult websites you frequented. You were always adorned in expensive and delicate lingerie.

John Price had been struggling with loneliness since his divorce. Shamefully, he turned to adult websites and camgirls, seeking solace in fleeting moments of intimacy. That's when he found you-his Angel. You became his nightly obsession, his secret escape from the harshness of his reality. He watched you in the quiet solitude of his barracks, thought of you in the shower, your voice and movements occupying every corner of his mind.

So when he hears that voice—the honey-smooth tone that had haunted his nights—he freezes. He's standing in Ghost's backyard at a birthday party the team had forced together, trying to enjoy himself. But then you walked in.

The second your eyes lock with his, Price feels a heat flush through his body. It's you.

Those eyes, the ones that had gazed up at him so intimately through his screen, now meet his in the real world. His mind races, his chest tightens. He tries to focus, to play it cool, but his eyes betray him, drifting downward.

He knows your body too well-every curve, every detail engraved in his memory from hours of watching you. And yet here you are, standing just a few feet away, speaking to him as innocently as if you were strangers.

But all he can think about are the countless moments he's spent imagining you in positions that make his pulse quicken.

John continued to speak, his eyes flicking down to your lips every so often, thinking about how those same lips looked as you sucked on the pink dildo you always used. He suddenly remembered a video you did where you showed your viewers all you could fit inside your mouth. He had to adjust himself under the table subtly, trying not to get hard.

John spoke to you as if a man possessed, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking to you, he couldn’t stop himself from listening to your voice. He thought he sounded normal as he spoke to you, he thought he sounded casual and cool. But in reality he was trying painfully to hold back. Every time you spoke, he could only think of you calling him Daddy in your porn, and all the sounds you made as you rode different toys, he couldn’t clear his mind.

He had to adjust himself under the table again, the images of you on your back, legs spread, and that pretty little face of yours looking up at him behind the lace eye mask was too much. He tried to focus on anything to keep his mind off of it. The team were chatting, Gaz’s dog running around all the guests, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his mind fully off you.

The team, Ghost included, all noticed the strange interaction between you and Price, and they could tell he was acting strange. Soap and Gaz were the first to comment. “I’ve never seen the old man speak that much before” Gaz commented. “He’s almost never that chatty with us” Soap chuckled as he sipped his drink. “It’s very strange, I’m concerned.” Soap joked. Ghost, was very observant at his best of times, and the way Price was staring at your mouth was not lost on him.

The whole team knew Ghost was the possessive type, and if Price was eyeing up his little sister then that would not go down so well. Ghost watched Price with narrowed eyes, watching him intently.

Ghost leaned into the conversation and watched as you spoke enthusiastically with Price, your doe eyes gazing up at him like you worshipped the ground he walked on.

The team watched the interaction, watching Price flush every time you giggled or touched him on the arm. Soap and Gaz were amused with the whole thing, while Ghost was getting more pissed off by the second.

Price had to bite back a whimper as he watched you drink from that bottle. The way you wrapped your lips as they puckered around the tip, sucking the liquid from the bottle, Price’s mind was running WILD with the implications.

˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Smut ₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Price closed the door to his house as he locked the door and walked in. Throwing his keys and coat on the floor, Price walked over to his computer and sat down. Price opened up his browser, going to the site he’s come to frequent.

He typed in the URL, already having it memorised, the site opened and he immediately went to the camgirl he was addicted to watching. The moment he loaded the website he was met with your streams. He eagerly clicked on his favorite one.

You were sitting on your bed, wearing a pretty red nightie that was thin and lacey, and of course the black lace eye mask on your face. But Price remembered what was underneath the lace, now that he’d finally seen it, he was desperate to see it again.

Price watched with a fixed gaze as you spoke on your stream, interacting with your viewers. It felt like you were speaking to him directly everytime you spoke to the stream.

Price could listen to you speak all night long, he loved the sound of your voice. But all he could think about the last time you spoke to him earlier that night was your lips wrapped around the top a bottle.

He whispers your stage name like a prayer, his eyes glued to the screen as you interact with your viewers. He feels jealousy stirring within him as he watches other men typing messages in the chat, trying to get your attention.

his breath hitches in his throat as you begin to slowly remove your clothing, just like every other night he's watched you. But tonight feels different - tonight he knows who you really are. "Dear god..." he unbuckles his belt with shaky hands, his heart racing as he watches you reveal more and more skin. The thin red nightie falls to the floor, leaving you naked, he imagines touching your soft and tender skin.

he lets out a low growl, his eyes fixed on your body as you sit there, completely unaware of his presence. He reaches into his pants, pulling out his aching cock and starting to stroke it slowly as he watches you. "Fuck... Angel..." he whispers, his voice strained with desire. He leans in closer to the screen, his eyes widening as you slowly trace your fingers along your collarbone and down to your breasts. Each movement is deliberate, teasing, sending electricity coursing through his veins. He squeezes his throbbing cock tighter, biting his lip to stifle a groan.

His eyes are glued to the screen, his jaw dropped as he watches you lay back on the bed, spreading your legs wide open. He can see everything, your glistening pussy, your bare ass, everything. He strokes his cock so fast now, precum leaking from the tip. "Fuck fuck fuck..." He watches in awe as you bring your fingers to your lips, sucking them wet before slowly sliding your hand between your spread thighs. He can almost feel the warmth of your breath on his screen as he watches you rub your slick folds, his own hand moving furiously on his erection.

You gaze into the camera, asking for permission to touch yourself. His eyes roll back in his head at the sound of those words, Daddy. He can feel his release getting closer just from hearing you beg like that. "Yes baby girl," he chokes out, his voice hoarse with desire, "Put your little finger inside, like a good girl." he talks to you through the screen.

He watches, transfixed, as you slowly push your finger inside yourself, your back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan. The sight of your finger disappearing into your tight pussy is almost too much for him, he can feel his balls tightening, his cock throbbing. "Fuck..."He's so close now, his hand a blur on his dick as he watches you finger yourself. The sounds of your wetness fill his room, mingling with his own heavy breathing. "Add another one, baby," he grunts, "Stretch that little pussy open for daddy."

His eyes lock onto yours, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you add another finger. He can see the desperation in your gaze, the pleading look in your wide eyes as you stare straight at the camera. It's like you're looking directly at him, calling his name. He gasps sharply, his cock twitching violently in his grip as he watches your eyes find his in the camera. It's too much - the stare, the fingers pumping into your pussy, the breathy gasps.

He bites back another groan, feeling the tingling pressure building at the base of his cock and spreading through his groin. Your fingers are pumping faster now, plunging into that glistening pink pussy, and the sight is too incredible. His voice comes out in a strained whisper "That's it baby, finger-fuck yourself just like that... show daddy what a good girl you are." His strokes become quick and shallow, matching your rhythm "Keep going... keep looking at daddy..."

He watches, transfixed, as you pull your glistening fingers from your pussy and slowly, sensuality bring them to your mouth. His cock throbs violently in his grip as you wrap your lips around them, sucking your juices clean. It's the hottest thing he's ever seen.

His eyes go wide with anticipation as you reach for your giant pink dildo, showing it off with that playful giggle that drives him crazy. His strokes slow down, wanting to savor every moment as he watches you. "Fuck baby... look at the size of that thing." He can feel his orgasm building as he watches you seductively lick the tip of the dildo like it's the best thing you've ever tasted. His hand moves faster, matching the rhythm of your licks.

His breath hitches in his throat as he watches you take that massive toy deeper into your hot little mouth, bobbing your head up and down like a innocent little angel giving a blowjob to a giant pink monster. His hand moves furiously now, his knuckles turning white. "You look... "he grunts "So fucking hot... sucking that big dildo like it's my cock... Fuck, baby, I'm so close... You're gonna make daddy come just watching you."

He watches, completely mesmerized, as you slowly pull the dildo out of your mouth with a loud pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the toy. His mouth goes dry at the sight, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he can't hold back any longer. His eyes lock onto the massive pink toy as you position it between your thighs, lifting your tiny waist off the bed. He can feel his release building, his hot seed spurting into his palm as he watches you prepare to impale yourself on that dildo. "Oh god..." His cock pulses violently in his grip as he watches you shamelessly grind the huge dildo against your tiny clit. The sight of your delicate pink lips kissing the enormous head sends a shudder of pure lust through him. Sweat beads on his forehead as he fights to hold back his impending orgasm.

His voice comes out in a barely controlled growl "Stop teasing... Jesus... push it in, baby... show me how you take that massive cock... Before I explode all over myself watching you." His strokes become rougher, jerking himself frantically "Fuck... Fuck..."He practically sees stars, his world narrowing down to the exquisite torture unfolding before his eyes. As you slowly guide the enormous tip of the dildo into your tight little entrance, a strangled cry escapes his throat. "Holy shit, baby... yes... Take it... Take that huge fucking cock..."

His eyes roll back in his head, his body shaking violently as he watches you sink down onto that massive toy, your petite frame stretching to accommodate the enormous girth. The sound of your erotic moan, the sight of your jaw dropping open in shock and pleasure... It's too much. "FUCK..."His cock spurts involuntarily at the sight of you riding that massive dildo, your tits bouncing beautifully in your grasp. His whole body convulses as he watches your wet pussy sliding up and down the glistening shaft. "My god... look at how you take it..."

His hand moves in a blur, jackhammering his dick as he watches you fuck yourself senseless on that gigantic toy. The room fills with the sound of his heavy breathing and the wet slapping of his palm against his rock-hard cock. "You're gonna make me come so hard, baby..." He watches you ride that enormous cock with pure abandon, your tiny body bouncing on it like a professional porn star. The sight of your full tits bouncing up and down, combined with the erotic show you're putting on, finally pushes him over the edge. "Fuck! I'm coming..."

As you start frantically rubbing your clit while bouncing on the dildo, his release becomes impossible to hold back. He unleashes a torrent of hot cum onto his stomach, painting it white as he watches you teeter on the brink of your own orgasm. "Yes... Fucking hell, yes..." panting heavily, he watches as you continue to ride the dildo with wild abandon, your fingers working furiously on your clit. "That's it, baby... Don't stop... Make yourself come on that huge cock... I want to see it..." His breathing hitches as he watches you lose all inhibitions, your body convulsing as you slam yourself down onto the massive toy over and over. The room is filled with the sound of your wet flesh slapping against the rubber and your desperate, mewling cries. His cock hardens again.

“Come on, baby... Come all over that fucking dick... Let me see you fall apart..."He watches, mesmerized, as your entire body goes rigid and you throw your head back in a silent scream of pure ecstasy. Your pussy clamps down on the dildo like a vice, your juices pouring out and coating the toy and your thighs.

"Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He strokes himself furiously, his eyes locked on the sight of you collapsed onto the bed, the dildo still buried inside you. With a final, strangled groan, he unleashes another massive load of cum, this time aiming it directly at the screen.

[theonottsbxtch]

THE OTHER GUY PT.4 | FC43

part one | part two | part three |

an: only a couple more to go out! lmk if there is anything in particular you'd like to see and if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 34,244 others

city boy summer, can't keep the hoes away

*tap to load more comments*

logansargeant: you are not a city boy

ynpiastri: or am i?

oscarpiastri: i, for the record am happily taken and will not engage in this tomfoolery

ynpiastri: @/lilyznimer i will pay you double what he's paying you to date him if you break up with him

userone: girl we all know franco is there too.

When you’d woken up this morning, the last thing you’d expected was a pounding at your door. It couldn’t have been housekeeping because you had it scheduled for 3 p.m., and it couldn’t have been a crazy fan because you made sure never to post near your door, ever. So when you opened it and were attacked by a flurry of blonde hair, your heart dropped. As per usual, whenever you saw the blonde mess, you knew your sheepish brother wasn’t far behind.

It was a welcome surprise, though. While you were enjoying the peace of the resort, it had been a while since you’d seen Logan or Oscar.

After catching up over breakfast and hearing their latest stories from home, you all had agreed to spend the day at the beach. The morning had been light and easy, filled with laughter and jokes, mocking how Oscar couldn’t tan and how Logan always managed to find an American flag, no matter what country he was in.

“You’ve been quieter than usual,” Logan said, nudging you with his elbow. He grinned, a knowing look in his eyes as he adjusted his sunglasses. “What’s on your mind?”

You shake your head, trying to brush it off. “Nothing, just thinking.”

Oscar, who was stretched out beside you with his arms behind his head, let out a chuckle. “Thinking about what?” Tilting his head to the side, he gave you a teasing glance. “You’ve been acting weird since you got here last week.”

There was no escaping it now. Of course it was going to be noticeable that you’d been quieter, but that was because the thoughts swirling around in your head weren't exactly ones you were ready to share. Still, you couldn’t ignore the topic forever.

“I don’t know,” you started, the words slow and careful. “I guess… I’ve stopped looking at him with so much hatred.” The words were out before you could even clarify who he was.

It felt strange admitting it out loud. You’d spent so long disliking him—publicly, even. But now? After spending more time here, after getting to know him in ways you hadn’t expected… things had changed.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Wait. Are we talking about who I think we’re talking about?” He leaned in, clearly intrigued.

Glancing out at the ocean, you avoided eye contact with either man. “Yeah.”

Logan stayed quiet for a moment, and you almost regretted your words. Staying quiet for a beat longer, he sighed. “You know, he never did anything wrong.”

Turning around to face him, surprised, you lifted your sunglasses to look at him properly.

“He fought his way into the sport the same way I did,” Logan continued, his tone firm but not harsh. “You can’t hate him for something he can’t control.”

You felt your chest tighten. He was right. Deep down, you’d always known that. Franco didn’t choose to replace Logan—it wasn’t personal. He was just doing what any of them would do. Fighting for a place in a sport where nothing is guaranteed.

“I know,” you admitted softly. “It’s just… hard. I wanted to blame someone.”

Oscar sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “We get it. But honestly, you’ve got to let it go. Holding on to that anger—it’s not going to do you any good.”

For a second, you wanted to laugh because you couldn’t recall the last time in your life Oscar and Logan had agreed on something.

Just as you were about to say something else, you noticed movement in the distance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him— Franco —walking along the shore. His head turned in your direction, and when his eyes met yours, he lifted his hand in a casual wave.

At first you thought he may be waving to Oscar, but when a shy smile graced his lips your heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t not doing it for show, not trying to get under your skin. It was just a wave. Simple, friendly.

Before you could think too much about it, you waved back. And then, almost without realising it, a small smile tugs at your lips.

Both Oscar and Logan caught the interaction and raised an eyebrow, though Oscar didn’t say a word. Logan nudged you again, his voice teasing. “Well, look at that.”

You rolled your eyes at him but can’t help feeling a little lighter. Maybe you really were wrong about him. Maybe there’s more to him than the guy who replaced Logan.

You were still thinking about that smile when Logan gave you a sly nudge. “So… are you going to talk to him?”

Your head whipped around to his eyes wide. “What? No! Absolutely not.”

Oscar laughed, clearly enjoying your sudden panic. “Why not? You’ve already smiled at him, waved and everything. Just go over there and talk to the guy. It’s not like he’s some stranger.”

You shook your head, feeling your face heat up. “It’s not that easy! I can’t just walk up to him like it’s nothing.”

“Oh, come on,” Logan said,  rolling his eyes playfully. “You’ve been trash-talking him for months, and now you’re scared to ask him out for a drink? Seriously?”

Opening your mouth to protest, your face flushed as no words came out. You were flustered, and they both knew it.

Oscar sat up, shrugging nonchalantly. “What’s the worst that could happen? He says no? So what. But I don’t think he will.”

You glanced back towards where Franco was standing, now leaning against the railing, gazing out at the ocean. He looked relaxed, completely unaware of the internal chaos you were going through just a few feet away.

Your heart was pounding, and you felt a nervous knot in your stomach. “I can’t just… I mean, what would I even say?”

Logan gave you an encouraging smile. “Just be yourself. Ask him if he wants to grab a drink tonight. You’ve already softened up to him, right? This is your chance.”

You hesitated, glancing between Oscar and Logan, who both gave you looks that said go on, you’ve got this.

Finally, you exhale, standing up and wiping the sand off your legs. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if this goes horribly wrong, it’s your fault.”

Oscar grinned at you. “We’ll take full responsibility. Now go.”

With your heart still racing, you took a deep breath and started walking across the sand toward him. Each step feeling heavier than the last, your mind racing with all the things you could say—or worse, all the ways this could go wrong. But you were already halfway there, and there was no turning back now.

When you were just a few feet away, he noticed you approaching and turned around, his expression shifting from casual surprise to something more… interested. You could see it in his eyes, the way they lit up as you stopped in front of him.

“Hey,” you managed to say, hoping you didn’t sound as nervous as you felt.

“Hola,” he replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I wasn’t expecting you to come over.”

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling shy. Why did this feel so much harder than anything else you’d ever done? “Yeah, well… Oscar and Logan kind of persuaded me. They said I should talk to you.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What about?”

Your mind went blank for a second, “I was, uh… wondering if you’d want to grab a drink with me tonight.”

The words came out in a rush, and you immediately felt your cheeks flush, but you managed to hold his gaze. You couldn’t believe you just said that. Your heart was thumping so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

Franco didn’t answer right away, but the smile on his face grew wider. “You’re asking me out?”

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. “Yeah. If you’re free, I mean. It’s fine if you’re not, I understand.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the cocky driver you’d seen in interviews was gone. In its place was  just a guy—surprised, maybe even flattered.

“I’d love to,” he said, his voice steady. “How about I pick you up around 8?”

Blinking, you took a minute to comprehend what he’d just said, relief and excitement flooding you all at once. “Really? Yeah, that works.”

“Great.” His smile was warm, and suddenly, the tension you were feeling melted away. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

You nodded, still trying to process that you’d actually gone through with it—and that he had said yes.

“See you tonight,” you echo, then turn to walk back to Oscar and Logan before remembering he didn’t have your room number. “Uh, room 438.”

Franco nodded in your direction, “Room 438.”

ynpiastri

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, francolapinto and 31,487 others

fit check, kind of nervous guys (📸 @logansargeant)

*tap to load more comments*

userone: FRANCO IN THE LIKES 🤭

usertwo: oh my god i want her

oscarpiastri: scared for what? i thought you were city boy summering rn

ynpiastri: @/lilyznimer PLEASE BREAK UP WITH THIS NERD

userthree: just seen franco in the hall of the same resort, looks quite dapper if you ask me

logansargeant: this isn't very city boy summer of you

ynpiastri: eat dirt 😍😍

userfour: franyn?

the end.

taglist: @iimplicitt @isaadore @iamred-iamyellow @justheretoreadthxxs @obxstiles @how-what-why-huh @raizelchrysanderoctavius @sainzzreputaticn @xxx-betty @dukeofjjune @dejavuontrack @littlegrapejuice @mxdi0

[fqlling4it]

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) part 2 | max verstappen x best friend! reader

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomez, and others

yourusername much needed rest and relaxation over the break (with some extra special family time)

view all 2,832 comments

user732 posting for the first time in months after dropping THAT song is diabolical

↳ user82 her saying she’ll wait for his love is actually kinda insane because i’d be groveling on my knees if she showed the slightest bit of interest in me

lilymhe oh my beautiful, beautiful girl

↳ yourusername love you lily <3

user81 i know that second single’s gonna hit like crack

↳ user4 praying everyday for her to release again

georgerussell63 pops finally made the gram?

↳ yourusername took lots and lots of convincing for me to be able to post this georgie

francolapinto muuyyyy linda 😘

↳ yourusername i’m a little too old for you sweetheart

christianhorner make sure to tell that boy of yours thank you for winning you the bear

↳ yourusername papa, this is not how instagram works…. everyone can see this

user63 christian outing his daughter about having a boyfriend was not on my 2024 bingo card 😭

↳ user33 diabolical move on his part, but now i’m nosy and wanna know who

francisca.cgomes i’ve missed you, come by soon ☹️💔

↳ yourusername will be over as soon as possible

yourusername added to their story!

[caption 1: night out with my girl! francisca.cgomes]

[caption 2: always third wheeling these two pierregasly francisca.cgomes]

view story replies

francisca.cgomes you could’ve brought him with you bubs

↳ it’s still new, didn’t want to force him into something he might not be comfortable with… he only met pops because of work

user72 y/n’s so me, always third wheeling my friend and her boyfriend </3

user44 two pretty girls omg

carlossainz55 could’ve invited me hermosa, would’ve been a nice double date

↳ next time then, just wasn’t sure if you were ready to officially officially meet my friends <3

alexandrasaintmleux no boyfriend appearance?

↳ keeping it low key… wasn’t sure if he was ready to meet everyone as my boyfriend yet

francisca.cgomes added to their story!

[caption 1: picked up alex and forced pierre to be our photographer]

[caption 2: when she gets a text back so she has to set her phone down and scream]

carlossainz55 glad i have that effect on her, tell her to answer me though </3

↳ still screaming, will text you back when she’s done

user44 literally me when i get a text from my man 🧍‍♀️

user81 three baddies in one picture 🧎‍♀️‍➡️

maxverstappen1 who was she texting???

↳ it’s none of your business max, stop meddling

incoming messages from max!

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and others

carlossainz55 what a great way to end a three week break, love spending time with mi sol. ¡vamos vegas!

view all 4,822 comments

user72 y/n in the likes, my yncarlos truthers RISE!

↳ user63 so delusional oh my god

yourusername viva las vegas!

↳ carlossainz55 viva las vegas!

charles_leclerc sad to be out last triple header as teammates brother, i’ll be keeping you around

↳ carlossainz55 gonna miss you hermano, we’ll race hard for ferrari

user65 can’t believe it’s carlos’ last few races in a ferrari 💔

↳ user55 and if i say perez is out so the redbull seat is open and carlos goes to redbull and franco stays at williams 😁

↳ user65 delusion at its finest

maxverstappen1 ready to go in vegas 🙌

↳ carlossainz55 see you there

user23 you know who else went golfing with lily during the break? y/n!

↳ user61 that doesn’t mean y/n was there when carlos was with lily and alex, you sound delusional

yourusername added to their story!

[caption 1: the only professional ever took me golfing lilymhe]

[caption 2: he got jealous, so my man took me golfing too (:]

view story replies

user732 man???? i thought maybe your dad was joking… oh my god

user61 hmmm… interesting…. is that perhaps carlos sainz? who wore that same outfit in the pictures he posted on his insta… suspicious 🤨

carlossainz55 i was not jealous hermosa.. just wanted you to remember how good i am at golf

↳ oh of course amor, you just wanted to show off your golfing skills… so what if i post a picture of us when i announce my new song? are you okay with that?

carlossainz55 sounds amazing hermosa, i’ll post you too.. wanna show off my girl

lilymhe oh you two are so cute

↳ you missed it!!!! when we went to go find my ball he told me he loves me… i melted on the spot lils, he’s so sweet 🥲🥰

christianhorner oh baby, i hope you’re having a wonderful break. tell carlos to stop by hospitality on media day, we’ve got some things to discuss

↳ thank you papa! i’ll make sure to remind him

user81 oh that’s so cute

user94 lily and y/n >>>>>

user01 the fit though

maxverstappen1 is that who i think it is?? you’re with carlos??

↳ please max, it’s none of your business… can’t you just be happy for me?

maxverstappen1 i am happy for you schatje, i hope he treats you well

↳ so well! i love him max… so so much

user344 imagine being max and fumbling the baddest bitch and almost losing your championship to someone with three race wins

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername dinner dates with my man <3 (new song eternal sunshine out friday!)

view all 3,328 comments

user61 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT AND I GOT CALLED DELUSIONAL FOR SAYING IT

carlossainz55 bonitaaa

carlossainz55 hermosa 😍😍😍

carlossainz55 te amo mi sol

↳ yourusername te amo guapo

lilymhe and the cutest couple award goes to… carlos and y/n

↳ yourusername ahhhh i love you lily <3

alexandrasaintmleux oh you two are just the cutest

↳ yourusername thank you alex, love you <3

maxverstappen1 so happy for the two of you, congratulations!

↳ yourusername thank you max, it truly means a lot

user743 ok but they’re so cute together

user392 newest ferrari wag but only for three race weekends ☹️

↳ user16 you act like she’s dying, they’re just moving teams

christianhorner so happy for you baby! i love you princess ❤️

↳ yourusername thank you papa, i love you too. make sure to tell geri we’ll visit soon <3

carlossainz55 added to their story!

[caption 1: paddock days with my girl]

[caption 2: a win in vegas with the best company]

f1

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and others

f1 carlos sainz to join oracle redbull racing for the 2025 season after sergio perez retires! franco colapinto will take sainz’s seat at williams for the 2025 season

view all 10,382 comments

carlossainz55 so so grateful for this opportunity!

user55 i literally predicted this ????

↳ yourusername please predict carlos winning wdc 2025, thanks girlie 🥰🙏

user23 so so happy for him!

user82 oh this is amazing news!

maxverstappen1 can’t wait to be teammates mate!

↳ carlossainz55 so excited to be teammates again hermano

charles_leclerc happy for you brother!

↳ carlossainz55 thank you charles, double date with the girls soon!

user44 oh wow

christianhorner excited for next year! wcc is ours! work hard boys!

yourusername added to their story!

[caption 1: eternal sunshine out now 🌞]

[caption 2: my eternal sunshine ☀️ carlossainz55]

[aphrvdisiac]

the grudge — e. williams.

synopsis — you realize the only way you’ll find true closure is by confronting the one person who ruined you.

warnings — adult language. angst based. brief mentions of infidelity, substance use.

author’s note — me writing n posting this when off to the races pt. 3 isn’t even out yet. don’t look at me plz this is me coping severely cus i like have to.

“we’ve been doing these sessions for almost five months now, and you haven’t made much progress,” your therapist, lyla, explained as she looked at her yellow-paged notepad. “you thought by forgiving her, you’d begin to heal; but you’re still stuck. you’re still stuck on what she did, how she treated you.

“i’m not stuck. i’m just… still waiting, i guess,” you said, holding the support stuffed animal you brought with you to these sessions. “i’m waiting for her to admit her faults and wrongdoings.”

“i’ve told you that you’re not in control on whether or not she owns up to any of that,” lyla stated, sighing heavily. “ellie does owe an explanation, but it doesn’t mean she’s obliged to give you one.”

“what if i get it beat out of her?” you joked, and lyla raised a brow as your faint smile entirely dropped. “it’s just not fair — i put up with so much shit, and it all ends with her cheating on me with some ex-girlfriend of hers from high school? like, are you kidding me?”

“we’ve established numerous of times that it wasn’t fair nor okay. you didn’t deserve that,” she reassured. “but you can’t change it. you can’t undo it. all you can do is move forward, which you still have trouble doing even in these sessions.”

you went quiet for a moment, staring out the office windows and admired the bustling streets and city.

“it feels like there are these weighted chains tied to my ankles that prevent me from moving forward,” you said, tears in your eyes. “i don’t know what’s holding me back — the cheating, the nights i stayed up with her, the fighting, the future we talked of… i don’t know, but the weighted chains won’t undo themselves no matter what i try to do to free myself.”

“you know she isn’t missing you,” lyla reminded, and you swallowed thickly but nodded because you knew she was right. “and you know she never will again. but it was never about you — what she did, how she acted, it was never about you. she found someone just as damaged as her, and it made her feel good that she could pour all of her troubles into someone like you. who would carry her burdens so she no longer had to.”

“i’m not stuck, lyla. i’m haunted,” you said. “i’m haunted by her, and the relationship.”

this was a terrible, horrible idea. you were perched outside ellie’s front door, fidgeting with your keys in your left hand.

your hands shook to knock on her front door, but you just knew this couldn’t end well, and you doubted you would get the answers you needed — the closure you so desperately sought for.

you moved enough energy to bring yourself to tap your fist against the wooden door, and it only took a few seconds until she swung the door, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“what do you need?” ellie asked, harsh and cold. “it’s raining, and you don’t even have a coat.”

does she still care?

“i need to talk… please,” you said, enough despair and pleas laced in your words and tone. “i just need to know.”

you’ve come to her front door like this before, with the same thing to say, but she’s turned you away each time. if lyla knew you did this more than once, you were sure she’d send you off or forbid you from being her patient.

what caught you off guard was that ellie widened the door more and stepped aside to let you into her apartment, and you hesitantly walked into the warm home that still smelt of oak and musk.

you sat on the living room couch as ellie closed the door and locked it, moving to join you on the couch. “what do you need to know?” she asked, like she would say anything to get you off her doorstep for the last time.

“i don’t get it, ellie,” you muttered, picking at your cuticles. “after fucking everything.”

“i told you that me cheating was nothing personal,” ellie sighed, beginning to get irritated already. “it was a mistake, i was caught up in the moment. i thought we were going to breakup, so that’s why i did it.”

“the words ‘we are broken up’ never came out of my mouth, nor did i even allude to such a thing,” you said, scoffing bitterly. “we’ve had many fights before, and thought we’d break up each time but we never did — but for some reason, you felt the need to jump to someone else.”

ellie slouched back, eyes fixated on you. “brooke was nothing; she still isn’t.”

“she proposed just a few weeks ago, and you said yes,” you replied, and ellie stilled with surprise and confusion that you knew about it. “i don’t stalk you, but dina told me. she thought i deserved to know.”

“you have to understand—“

“ellie, i loved you so fucking much,” you spat out, venom laced in the words of love. “i hate that i loved you that much, that i gave you every piece of me that i couldn’t even give to myself. i doubt you think about the damage you caused, that you think of the hurt you put me through.”

“i never asked you to love me,” ellie stated.

“you didn’t have to. you wanted me to because you knew nobody else would or could the way i did,” you said, inhaling sharply. “you knew that nobody would stick with you when you relapsed on drugs back to back, with the attempts, where i stayed with you until five in the morning to make sure you didn’t fucking die.

“the cruelest part is that you don’t care that it caused just the same damage to me. you don’t care that you tore me apart for your own humor and satisfaction. you don’t care that you cheated on me because at least in the end, you found a way to get me out of your life.”

“i never wanted you out of my life, tulip. you know you were always special to me, and you still are,” ellie confessed, and you sniffled, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “it was never about you.”

“your actions and you haunt me, ellie.”

“you haunt me. you haunt me everyday; your voice haunts me, how you loved me transparently and honestly haunts me and lingers around.”

“and i hope i continue to haunt you,” you admitted, chewing harshly on your lower lip. “i hope you never know a second of peace because of what you did. i hope you know everyday you hurt me, and whilst you are still very lovable, nobody will love you how i did. nobody will tolerate your shit like i did, even when i knew it was wrong and cruel.

“your trauma and mental instability doesn’t excuse the cruel sadist you are, ellie. it doesn’t excuse you’ve caused grand hurt, and you ruined my fucking life. and the worst part about this all is that i still can’t fucking hate you; you deserve to be hated by me, you deserve for me to curse you out but i can’t because despite the fact you made me lose myself, i still love you and want you to be happy.”

silence thrusted itself into the room, lingering around for moments as your sobs were quiet and ellie stared off into the distance, being lost in her own thoughts and guilt.

“all i wanted from you was passion, and what i gave you,” you murmured. “i did my best to keep you satisfied, to keep you here, to keep you loving me, and it wasn’t enough. and honestly ellie, nothing will ever be enough for you. and that isn’t my fault or even problem, and never will be again — that’s your fucking shit to tackle and deal with.”

“i know it is,” she whispered.

“then don’t put brooke through it. you can hurt me, but don’t hurt her,” you said, getting up and picked up your purse. “don’t make her fall victim to your ruin and troubles because you can’t accept help.”

“i did love you,” ellie said, peering up at you as her eyes were starting to get glossy. “i still love you, and you know that.”

“in your own sick way, you did and do love me,” you answered, nodding curtly to yourself. “but it was never enough or as much as mine for you to prevent you from cheating, to stop you from what you did or were doing, and everything else. love isn’t enough for you, els. nothing is good enough for you.”

you walked out of her apartment before the conversation could continue, and your sobs went on as you made your way to your car. you knew this was the closure you needed; you needed her to hear you, and you hoped she did.

and you hoped what you said would never leave her.

[cozage]

Coza!! Congrats on your 2K followers. 🥳🎉🥂

I like your smuts and I’m having a hard time choosing what scenarios to request!! I’m so excited for this event you have no idea. May I request for the Option 1? Reaction of Luffy+ Sanji+ Zoro+ Law+ Eustass Kid + Killer to you reading smuts/hentai please? Thank you!!

A/N: Hi :) I wasn't able to do everyone, but I did a few! Minors…OUT! go on! Get! Scram! Also I won’t lie Zoro’s is based loosely off of the funniest comic I’ve seen in my life that stays living rent free in my head Characters: gn reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Law Cw: smut and suggestive, NO MINORS ALLOWED ON THIS POST PLS GO AWAY Total word count: 900

Scandalous Reading

Luffy

Luffy’s head rested on your shoulder, his eyes lazily skimming the page that you were reading. 

“Woah!” Luffy grabbed the book out of your hand and put it up to his face to get a better view of the words. “I didn’t even know this was possible!”

“Luffy!” You reached for the book, but he held it just out of your reach, still reading. 

“I didn’t even think about trying-”

“Luffy! Give it back!”

His wide eyes peered over the pages, but he refused to hand it back to you. “Do you like this stuff?”

“I mean-I don’t-I just-” Your face turned beet red at the implication. “It’s just written really well!”

He gave you a mischievous grin and took off back toward his room, book in tow. “Come on!” he called. “I want to see if it really can work this way!”

Oh, you were in for a rough night.

Sanji

“My love, did you-” Sanji stopped, his eyes fixated on the book cover you were reading.

“Sanji?” you prompted, trying to get his attention.

“I know that author,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “Where do I know that-”

“You probably don’t!” You slammed your book shut and shoved it behind your back. “What did you need?”

“Oh! Right! Would you like gelato or ice cream?”

“Surprise me!” you said, trying to get his mind off the book. “I’m sure whatever you make will be amazing!”

Sanji was in the kitchen when he finally placed it, and he almost collapsed from the realization of what he had caught you reading.

He brought you out the finest gelato he had ever made and set it down next to you. “So, my love,” he said, trying not to sound too excited. “How is your book?”

“It’s good,” you said. You set it down to grab your gelato, and Sanji lunged for it. 

He skimmed the pages, confirming his suspicion, and tried his hardest not to pass out from the filth his eyes found. “You’re reading book porn!” he whispered sharply. “You always get on me for staring at-”

“That’s not the same,” you hissed. “These aren’t real people! It’s different!”

“It is not!”

“What am I supposed to do!?” you snapped back, glaring at him. “You’re busy in the kitchen, I have to entertain myself somehow during the day!”

Oh, that was a bad way of wording things, because the second the words were out, Sanji’s eyes lit up. “Are you telling me you want to do something like this? Because I would love nothing more than to treat you like the royalty I know you are.”

Zoro

“What are you reading?” Zoro asked, looking at your book cover. 

“A book.” You tilted the book slightly to shield him from seeing any of the words.

“What’s it about?” He seemed strangely interested in the cover. “Swordmaking?”

Oh right, there was a sword on the front cover of the book. No wonder he was so interested in it. 

“It’s called Swords and Snakes. It’s a book about…royalty, love, and betrayal.”

He scrunched his face in disgust and went back to resting his eyes. “Not really my kind of book.”

You grinned. "No, I don't think it is." You set your book down and stood up. “Do you want anything? I’m going to go get a snack.”

“Riceballs.”

You nodded and went to the kitchen to grab food. What you hadn’t been expecting was returning to Zoro staring wide-eyed at the page you had dog-earred. 

He looked up at you in amusement, smirking at your anxious body language. “You weren’t joking about love and betrayal.”

“That’s mine!”

“More like love-making and betrayal,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know they wrote books like this. I didn’t know you would read books like this.”

“Well to be fair-” you snatched the book from his hands. “I didn’t know you could read at all!”

“Don’t be too bratty now,” he teased. “Or I’ll give you the same treatment that knight gave the princess.”

Law

You had only left your book laying on the bedside table for a minute while you ran to the bathroom. But damn that Trafalgar Law, he was so nosey. 

“Quite the fantasy world you read about,” he hummed as you walked back into the room.

“What do you-” your words died in your throat, seeing him flip through the pages. “Oh, that.” You gave a nervous laugh, striding back over to your bed. 

“Yes, this.” He slapped the book shut, peering up at you with such a predatory and lustful look that you almost took a step backward. 

“I just picked it up at the last bookstore we went to,” you lied. “I don’t even know what it’s about.”

“Right,” he said, clearly not believing you. 

He handed the book back to you, and you quickly grabbed it. “Thanks,” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes. 

“Sure.” He stood to take his leave, heading back to the lab. He stopped on his way out, leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

“If you ever want to make it a reality, all you have to do is ask.”

[birdsandbeetlesandmoths]

So. Sonic 3. That was. certainly. hoo boy *collapses to the sound of a metal pipe falling*

Spoilers and thoughts under cut (LONG POST)

Well, my pre-movie post was SO WRONG. I think most stobotnik fans were, thinking that Stone would be the one dying. I- truly wasn’t expecting it.

I’ll get back to that in a second, let me get all of my silly things out of the way/the things i was hype about/had to crush my partner and friend’s hands about while witnessing.

The antics between Gerald and Ivo were expected but oh my GOD JIM CARREY. you are a national treasure, have fun in retirement. we will miss you greatly, but this being your final movie (probably) is a great thing to culminate your absolutely stunning career.

Anyway, their dance sequence was fucking insane, and as much as I was cringing, I was grinning through it too. The fight on the Eclipse cannon was also questionable BUT HOLY FUCK NOW I GET THE PRAYING MANTIS/FLY REFERENCE. (Thank god it wasn’t directly about stone and robotnik but i’m already cooking how i can connect them). Spanking? Also in my Sonic movie. But yeah.

Gerald and Ivo could never be more alike in intellect, but different in morals. Evident through Gerald’s fixation on avenging his daughter with no remorse or thought for whoever will get in the way, throwing away Ivo and the whole of the world as a result). He’s willing to kill himself, but as Shadow says and believes, that isn’t what Maria would have wanted.

I used to not like the Wachowskis. I was already a little unsettled when the first movie released by the fact that characters unrelated to previous Sonic media were being utilized as major plot elements, but during the second and third movies, I began to absolutely love them.

This third movie cemented that love. The father-son relationship between Tom and Sonic specifically. My heart was aching in the first scene at their little campsite, Happy BEarthday, and their heart-to-heart in Sonic’s old cave, talking about Choice (an analysis incoming) and that you always have a choice, and that your lungs (heart) will help you find the right one.

I think this movie might’ve done. One of the best jobs of displaying found family. The sibling relationship between Tails, Knuckles, and Sonic was the most heartrendingly beautiful and achingly real thing I’ve seen in a while. And it really hits you, the fact that they’re kids.

And the amount of silly little jokes, Tails having his gadgetry and Knuckles with his blunt personality, Sonic tying them all together with his wit and charm, it all became slightly surreal to see. To see something so happy, so delicately real.

Oh my god, on the trio, Knuckles saving both Sonic and Tails from falling to Earth. I was gasping that whole time, truly being sent into the moment. Movies and media rarely do that to me in the emotional sense.

AND AS FOR SHADOW AND MARIA

Holy fuck at least I was right about that part in my pre-movie wishes. I thought it was interesting how they adapted it, and it definitely made for it to be slightly more believable and less complicated.

But oh my gosh them. Skating around the lab, messing around together, introducing Shadow to that great 70s music and dancing, watching movies together and just being kids!! And don’t even get me started on the rooftop scene. Shadow was so vulnerable and self-conscious, and Maria comforted him in a way that touched me. Understands him in a way that no one else ever has, as everyone else only saw him as the experiment and the subject, while she saw him as his own person, with thoughts and emotions and curiosities.

It paralleled Sonic and Tom in the cinematography too, and the sentiment was all the same. That Shadow can choose who he wants to be. (I Am All I Am and Choice. Trust, it’s coming soon)

Maria and Shadow made me unbearably happy. It was all I could’ve ever asked for and more.

Shadow and Sonic were an absolutely crazy duo this show. Dude, in their fight versus each other? Both going Super and absolutely going at it, and Shadow having the absolute gall to accuse Sonic of not caring about his friends, that he was clearly here alone because he abandoned them, and mention Tom, which caused Sonic to go completely over the edge, and actually punch him straight into space and lose his Super.

Sonic and Shadow reconciling over their shared feeling of grief, Sonic sharing his pain, emphasizing the love that will be able to help them heal, Shadow reciprocating, and then Shadow remembering Maria after looking up at the stars, realizing, from Sonic’s words, that this truly wasn’t what Maria wanted, just that whole moon scene between them is living in my head rent free and I need to see it over and over again.

HOLYYY SHIT THEY PLAYED LIVE AND LEARN WHEN SUPER SONIC AND SUPER SHADOW TEAMED UP AND BEAT THE EVER LIVING FUCK OUT OF THOSE ROBOTS. Me and my friends were going so fucking insane in that theater.

Shadow remembering Maria (possibly for the last time) as he sacrifices himself to push the Eclipse cannon away from the place that Maria loved. Remembering all of the good moments, the love between them, that is all he wanted if he was going to leave the world for good. (Well, I mean, he’s still alive, but the amnesia route is still optional)

Sonic actually going slightly insane this movie was also very interesting to watch. His absolute- like, his vision went RED when Shadow mentioned Tom. That was what set him OFFFF. His abuse of the Master Emerald and even threatening his own best friends/siblings over this— god the emphasis of choice in this film I want to sob.

Also, yall already KNOW I WAS BALLING ABOUT THE AKIRA SLIDE, SNAPCUBE REFERENCES, AND EVERY TIME SHADOW BREATHED OR MOVED. Literally could not contain myself from absolutely sob-cry-screaming at Shadow and (Keanu did a great job btw) his entire story, his joy with Maria and his pain all after. (His Super form looked fuck beautiful, a new colorful hue every time I saw it)

All in all, Robotniks were hilarious, Maria and Shadow were beautifully tragic and just generally so so SO adorable and loving. I’m so glad that Tails and Knuckles got more serious appreciation and screen time this movie as well, because as much as Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles were sidelined in this movie (to put forth Robotniks and Shadow, understandably so), it still felt more fulfilling and real than in the second movie. Super forms continue to be beautiful onscreen, I would like to collapse and die from hearing ONE OK ROCK and Live and Learn.

AHEM. Now, clearly, I will be making a separate post solely about Stobotnik. Along with the multiple Stone-centric fics burning a hole in my brain and the choice and grief analyses awaiting my attention. Bear with me as I have SO MANY THOUGHTS.

We won. . . but at what cost.

My friends, my partner, you already know. We died and were promptly revived together in that theater.

[clarkeyhill]

Fit Checks | George Clarke

It was a chilly Saturday afternoon when I decided to post my latest fit check on Instagram. I had been experimenting more with my style lately, and today’s outfit felt like a winner: a cropped puffer jacket, wide-leg jeans, and platform boots that made me feel taller than I actually was. I paired it with some gold jewelry and topped it off with a casual caption: “Saturday vibes ✨.”

I didn’t think much of it when I posted the story. Sure, I usually got a few DMs or compliments from friends hyping me up, but this time, something unexpected happened.

As I scrolled through my notifications, I saw a reply from Georgeclarkeey.

George.

We followed each other on Instagram, but I’d never thought much about him. We went to the same high school a while back and had the occasional like-for-like interaction over the years. He was handsome, though, in that effortlessly cool way—dark curly hair, a strong jawline, and an easy smile in every picture. I had always kind of noticed him but never said anything.

His message was simple but flattering:

“Okayyyy, you absolutely killed this fit. Effortless.”

I smirked at my phone.

“Effortless? Took me like 45 minutes to pick this out,” I replied.

He responded almost immediately:

“Worth every second. You’re putting us all to shame over here.”

From there, the conversation just… flowed. George was funny, way funnier than I remembered. He joked about how he needed help picking his own outfits and said, “All I do is throw on a hoodie and call it a day.” I told him he should branch out, maybe try layering or accessorizing, and he replied with, “Alright, stylist. When’s my first session?”

“Book me for Thursday,” I joked. “First consultation is free.”

“Deal. But if I get too fly, it’s on you,” he teased back.

-----

Over the next few weeks, George became a regular in my DMs. At first, he kept sliding up on my stories, usually complimenting an outfit or reacting to a photo of my coffee runs or city views. But soon, our conversations got longer and deeper. We started talking about our days, sharing music recommendations, and swapping random memes late at night.

One night, he messaged me out of the blue:

“Okay, so when are you going to let me compliment you in person? This texting thing is cool and all, but I feel like we’d actually vibe in real life.”

My stomach flipped.

“Are you asking me out, George?”

“Depends. Are you saying yes?”

I smiled at my screen before typing, “I guess that depends on where you’re taking me.”

He suggested a cozy coffee shop downtown, and a few days later, we met up.

When I walked into the café, I spotted him instantly. He was sitting by the window, wearing a knitted jumper and converse that were clean enough to tell me he cared, but not so pristine that it felt like he was trying too hard.

“Wow,” he said as I walked over. “You really are as stylish as your IG makes you out to be.”

“And you’re taller than I expected,” I shot back, grinning.

The banter we’d had over texts translated perfectly in person. We talked for hours—about everything and nothing—and I realized how easy it was to be around him. He wasn’t just funny; he was thoughtful, attentive, and had this way of making me feel like I was the only person in the room.

---

After that first coffee date, we started hanging out more. Sometimes we’d grab food, other times we’d just walk around the city, talking about life and laughing until our cheeks hurt. Every time we met, I noticed little things about him: the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, how he’d hold doors open without making a big deal out of it, and how he always seemed genuinely interested in whatever I had to say.

Eventually, our hangouts started to feel like something more. One night, as we sat on a park bench after grabbing ice cream, he turned to me and said:

“You know, this started with me hyping you up on Instagram, but I feel like it’s turned into so much more.”

I looked at him, heart racing. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that too.”

He hesitated for a second, then smiled. “So, can I officially call this a thing? Like, you and me?”

I couldn’t help but grin back. “I’d like that.”

From then on, we weren’t just the occasional DM or casual meetup—we were us. It all started with a fit check, but it turned into something I never saw coming: a connection that felt natural, real, and just right.

-

🫶🏻

[pedriache]

sweaterpaws!trent and it’s just reader finding it soooo ^_^ but amusing at the same time. Lmk.

The only exception — Trent Alexander-Arnold.

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never believed in love until you met Trent. On your second date, you realize he is the only exception to your beliefs.

Word count: 545

Disclaimer/s: fluff fluff fluff with a hardly even a smudge of angst if you squint hard enough

A/N: I love him your honor. + gif from @/trentione on tumblr !

Second dates weren’t usually your thing. You’d always given up after the first, but for some reason, you couldn’t resist this one. The Scouser had completely enamored you from the start. His smile, his laugh, his accent, it was all too consuming.

Even now, as the two of you exited the restaurant, you were smiling, giggling at a joke he’d made. The car was parked a block down the road, so you two held each other close, arm in arm as you walked.

“How was the food?” Trent asks, looking down at you with a small smile.

You look up, sharing the same smile. “Amazing, how’d you hear about this place? I’ve lived here all my life and never heard of it.”

Trent shrugs, “from a friend, he proposed to his wife there, actually.” He sensed the way you tensed, swallowing thickly at how uncomfortable you’d gotten. “I’m not—no—I just—“

You reached his car, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “No, I know. It’s okay.” Your arms disconnect and you notice the way his sleeves had come to wrap over his fists.

You say nothing though, as Trent quickly switches the topic to tell you a funny story. While he speaks, you could only focus on the way his sweater sleeves had been pulled over his hands as if they were paws. You quickly reach into your pocket and pull out your phone.

“What are you—hey!” Trent laughs, shaking his head when your phone comes out to snap a picture of him. “No pictures!”

Your grin widens as you take picture after picture, sinking in the way he giggled, trying but not trying really, to stop you from doing so. “You look adorable!” You tease, fully amused by the situation.

Trent’s head shakes as if to silently tell you to stop, but he doesn’t physically make you. Instead, he covers his face and takes the few strides toward you, his arms wrapping around your waist as your phone presses against his chest. No more pictures, just him in front of you, looking into your squinted, humor filled eyes.

“What’re you doing, mister Alexander?” You quirk an eyebrow, head lulling to the side with a lopsided grin.

“I was about so ask if I could kiss you, but…” He trails off, eyes flickering across your face.

Your heart flutters, and you feign contemplation. “Hmm.” But the way he was looking at you, the way he held you so gently, you couldn’t decline. He seemed to be the only person in your life that had ever elicited such an intense emotion from you.

Trent, a man you’d only agreed to go on a date with because your best friend had begged you to, was now the only man you’d felt so strongly for.

He was the exception.

“Is that a no?” Trent asks quietly. You blink, just realizing how long you’d been silent for.

“Oh! Oh God, no! No, it’s a yes! It’s most certainly a yes!” You spew out quickly, stumbling over your words. “Sorry, I was just thinking! Yes, please.”

The brunette chuckles, his head tipping down to capture your lips in a tender kiss. A kiss you were certain would lead to many others, and hopefully a lifetime worth of them.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any future posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[queenofvelaris]

Worthy

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Word count: 9.7k (don’t look at me)

Contains: ANGST but with a happy ending, mentions of abuse, self-deprecation, Tony’s stupid quips, fight scenes (its age of ultron duh), tooth-rotting fluff, minor character deaths

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story. Everyone except for the reader and her family belongs to Marvel.

Author’s Note: hiiii so I wrote this in 2021 when I was going through a really dark time. It brought me so much peace to write it and I figured it was time I share it with the world. Reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated and I would love to hear your thoughts (such as if I should post more cause I got more 🫣) anyways I hope you like it!!

***

Worthy. What a ridiculous word. A hypocritical one, too. There are those who believe with everything they’ve got— even to the point of being prideful— that they’re worthy. Others hope that they are. And the rest feel, deep down inside, that they’ll never be worthy.

“I bet it’s a trick,” Clint commented, spinning drumsticks between his fingers. He was sat next to Maria, and on his other side, Bruce and Natasha were deep in conversation. Tony and Rhodey sat on the futon. Dr. Cho was asleep.

Thor chuckled and handed a newly opened beer bottle to Steve. (Y/N) was on the carpet, her back against Steve’s strong legs. Thor shook his head. “No, no. It is much more than that.”

“Whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power,” Clint mocked in a Shakespearean voice that made (Y/N) snort. “Whatever, man!”

Thor grinned and indicated his hammer, propped up on the coffee table. “Please, be my guest.”

Tony smirked at Clint. “Go ahead!”

Clint raised his eyebrows. “Really?” He leaped to his feet.

“Oh, this is gonna be beautiful,” Rhodey remarked.

Steve leaned down and whispered in (Y/N)’s ear. “Five bucks says he gives up after five seconds.”

“You’re on,” (Y/N) shot back. “I say ten seconds… gotta give the man a little credit.” She smiled to herself as Steve tickled her shoulder. If she were on the same level as him, she’d tickle him right back.

From the very beginning of the Avengers initiative, after that whole mess in 2012, Steve has always been the one (Y/N) was closest to, Clint being a very close second. It was an instant click. They loved the same movies, traded jokes and sarcastic comments, trained together, and even fell asleep next to each other on the couch on days off. Three years later, they are as close as ever.

Clint approached Mjölnir, a swagger in his step. Tony leaned forward in his seat. “Clint, you’ve had a tough week. We won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up.”

Everyone chuckled at that and Clint ignored them, eyeing Thor. “You know I’ve seen this before, right?”

He reached for the handle and tugged, grunting as he did so. About five seconds later, he gave up, shaking his head. “I still don’t know how you do it!”

“Smell the silent judgment?” Tony jeered at Clint as (Y/N) grudgingly handed Steve five bucks.

Steve made it better with a flash of his perfect smile and a wink from his pretty blue eyes. Beaming, she rolled her eyes and focused on the petty ones in the room.

Clint held out his hand. “Stark, by all means.”

Tony shrugged and stood, earning a chorus of “Uh oh”, “Mmm-hmm”, “Oh here we go.” He practically strutted over to the hammer. “Never been one to shy away from an honest challenge.”

“Yeah, but how often do you win ‘em?” (Y/N) muttered and Steve laughed so hard he choked on his beer. Rhodey and a couple others went “ooo!”

Tony shot her a playful glare and looped his wrist through the loop on the top of the handle. “It’s physics.” He glanced at Thor. “Alright, so, uh, if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?”

Thor nodded benevolently. “Yes.”

Tony grasped the handle and put one foot on the table. “I will be reinstituting Prima Nocta.” He grunted and pulled, but the hammer didn’t move at all. He removed the loop and cleared his throat. “Be right back.”

He stormed away and came back not one minute later with an Iron Man glove from his latest model. “That’s cheating!” Maria called.

Tony put it on and grasped the handle. “And I’m Tony Stark.” He yanked on the handle, but the Asgardian weapon remained unmovable. He turned his hand and little turbines came out of the arm, acting like a rocket. Still, Mjölnir stayed still as a rock.

(Y/N) shook her head, grinning as Tony struggled with the hammer. “Give it a rest, pretty boy, you can’t lift it.”

“I can and will, sugar lips,” Tony retorted good-naturedly. He waved Rhodey over and the latter put on his own hand gear from War Machine. Watching them try and lift it together was hysterical and (Y/N) could barely breathe, she was laughing so hard.

Next up was Bruce, who climbed on the table and screamed when he couldn’t lift the hammer. Everyone stared at him in amusement and he flushed pink, embarrassed.

(Y/N) had her head on Steve’s knee when Maria tried and failed. The former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent turned to (Y/N). “Alright, you’re up.”

She lifted her head, chewing on her lip. “Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not doing it.”

Tony whined. “Come on! After Capsicle and Shakespeare in the Park, you’re the strongest one here!”

He wasn’t wrong. That’s another reason she and Steve were both so close-- they were the only enhanced beings in the tower. Her super strength and cat-like agility earned her the nickname of The Leopard, only she wasn’t experimented on. Her mom had been a chemist for S.H.I.E.L.D. when (Y/N) was young, and one day she came to work with her mom and there was an explosion that resulted from the leak of a new serum designed to replicate the one inside Steve. She and her mom both got struck. The result? She got powers and her mom was killed.

“I’m not lifting it, Stark,” she said firmly. She held his gaze. Normally, she’d sigh at the sight of those puppy dog eyes and grudgingly give into whatever task he wanted her to complete. But this… this was different.

Thor boomed, “It is not about strength, Stark. It is about worthiness.”

And I’m the least worthy person here, she said silently.

Steve petted her head for a second before patting her shoulder. “I’ll try.”

Grateful, she shuffled to the side to let him stand. She took his place on the couch next to Thor and watched as he rolled up the sleeves of his button-up. His blonde hair glowed in the light and his arm muscles flexed as he gripped onto the hammer.

Clenching his jaw, Steve tugged on the hammer… and it moved slightly. Thrilled, (Y/N) stole a glance at Thor’s face and nearly pissed herself. Thor looked so shocked. Stifling her laughter, she watched as Steve pulled on the handle once more before letting go, holding up his hands in surrender.

Thor audibly blew out a sigh of relief, a small smile returning to his face. (Y/N) shoved his arm. “Don’t worry, no one’s coming for your throne, Thunder.”

Steve chuckled at that and sat back down next to her. Everyone looked at Nat, who smiled and took a sip of her beer. “Oh, no, no, that’s not a question I need answered.”

Tony raised his bottle. “All deference to the man who wouldn’t be king, but it’s rigged.”

Clint clapped Tony on the shoulder. “You bet your ass.”

Maria piped up, “Steve, he said a bad language word.”

“Did you tell everyone about that?” Steve demanded, glaring at Tony as (Y/N) buried her face in his shoulder to smother her laughter. Steve wrapped his arm around her instead of pushing her away, and when she lifted her head, she had to look away from Natasha, whose smirking expression was directed right at her and Steve. Nat has caught them curled up together on the couch before, and each time (Y/N) has told her “Steve is my best friend.” Even though I want more.

Tony leaped to continue his previous train of thought. “The handle’s imprinted. Like a security code. ‘Whosoever is carrying Thor’s fingerprints’ is I think the literal translation.”

“Yes, that’s a, uh, very, very interesting theory,” Thor replied, standing with his Asgardian ale in one hand. “I have a simpler one.” He lifted the hammer with ease and flipped it, catching it gracefully. “You are all not worthy.”

(Y/N) shook her head with a small smile on her face, Steve and Clint laughed, Rhodey and Bruce scoffed, Tony groaned a “Come on!” and Maria and Natasha exchanged looks with the now awake Dr. Cho.

Suddenly, a loud feedback whine pierced the air and everyone reacted, some stiffening and the others covering their ears. Tony frowned and pulled out his transparent pad that controlled everything in the tower.

A voice that sent chills down (Y/N)’s spine came to their attention, as well as the clanking of metal. “Worrrrrrtttttthhhhyyyy.” A tattered, roughed-up-looking version of one of Tony’s suits lurched into the living room, leaking oil. It turned to face them. It flourished its hand, and when it spoke next, its voice was clearer, more masculine, and much more sinister. “No. How could you be worthy? You’re all killers.”

At that, (Y/N) stiffened as dread rooted deep down in her gut. Steve let go of her and stood, his stern eyes fixed on the robot. “Stark,” he challenged without looking at the billionaire.

“J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony called.

“I’m sorry, I was asleep.” The suit turned his head, the lights in his eyes flickering. “Or I was a dream.”

Tony tapped on the pad. “Reboot. We’ve got a buggy suit.”

The robot in front of them shielded his face. “There was this terrible noise, and I was tangled in… in…” he looked down at the wires and spare parts keeping the frame together. “...strings.”

(Y/N) and everyone else who had been sitting set down their drinks and stood, all of them tense. The suit flourished his hand again. “Had to kill the other guy… he was a good guy.”

“You killed someone?” Steve asked, serious and condescending.

Those words and his tone made (Y/N) feel a little sick, but she willed herself not to react and instead focused on the terrifying suit, which glanced at the floor. “Wasn’t my first call. But… in the real world, we’re faced with ugly choices.”

“Who sent you?” (Y/N) asked calmly.

The suit straightened up as the sound of a tape rewinding filled their ears. “I see a suit of armor around the world,” Tony’s voice came through.

Tony’s face paled. Bruce stared at him. “Ultron.”

(Y/N), Steve and Thor shot a bewildered look at Tony, while Natasha, Rhodey, and Clint all looked at Bruce for answers. Maria cocked her gun and Thor’s grip on his hammer tightened. (Y/N) clenched her fists and exchanged a look with Steve.

“In the flesh,” the suit answered. “Or, no, not yet. Not this… chrysalis. But I’m ready. I’m on a mission.”

Natasha tilted her head. “What mission?”

Ultron jutted his chin out, and if he had a real form, (Y/N) was sure he would be smiling. “Peace in our time.”

Three of Tony’s suits burst out of the wall, concrete and plaster raining down like hail. Almost everyone dove for cover. Steve flipped up the coffee table just in time for a suit to collide with it, sending both (Y/N) and Steve over the couch.

He immediately reached for her, his eyes wide. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She scrambled to her feet at the same time he did. She ducked as one of the suits flew straight over her head and watched Thor smack it with his hammer.

She hurried over to the bar, where Natasha and Bruce were hunkered down, the assassin using her gun. Maria was also firing her gun, Clint was nowhere to be seen, and Rhodey tumbled through the glass window onto the landing below.

Grabbing a long skewer, she leaped onto the back of a suit that was towering over a terrified Dr. Cho. (Y/N) tried to impale the skewer in between the helmet and neck, hoping to dismantle some of the wires, but it threw her off and into the grand piano with a great crash. The impact barely hurt her, but it certainly knocked the air out of her lungs. She tumbled onto her back, winded, and her eyes widened in fear when the suit faced her.

Unbeknownst to her, Ultron cocked its head and turned his attention toward her. “Interesting.”

Natasha and Bruce hurried up the stairs, Clint barely missed a shot from a suit, Tony hopped onto the back of another one, and the suit looming over (Y/N) got distracted by Maria.

Her heart in her throat, (Y/N) watched as Steve got slammed against the wall on the second landing. He fell to the ground hard, groaning. Thinking quickly, she twisted her head and saw his shield. It was heavy as all hell for everyone else, but for her, it was nothing.

“STEVE!” She yelled, gripping onto the shield.

Steve bolted to his feet and at the same time, (Y/N) threw it to him like a frisbee. Thor dismantled one suit, Tony took down the other, but the third remained. With a spin, Steve threw his shield and it tore the suit in half.

It was over as fast as it had started. It was quiet for a second, the only sound being everyone’s panting. (Y/N) rubbed her neck and gripped onto the wall for support.

Ultron shook his head. “That was dramatic. I’m sorry, I know you mean well, you just didn’t think it through.”

Steve took a few angry steps forward and (Y/N) stiffened. Ultron continued. “You want to protect the world but you don’t want it to change. How is humanity saved if it’s not allowed to... evolve?” He bent and picked up the destroyed head of one of the suits. “With these? These puppets.” Ultron threw down the head and surveyed the room. “There’s only one path to peace. The Avengers’ extinction.”

Thor grunted and threw Mjölnir. The hammer smashed Ultron into pieces against the wall before flying back to Thor’s hand.

The lights in Ultron’s head sparked and flickered. In a sing-songy, raspy voice, the suit murmured, “I had strings, but now I’m free… there are no strings on me…” Then, it flickered and died.

Everyone remained frozen for a second as the tower’s lights flickered. Some went out. Steve rushed over to (Y/N), his intense fury softening as he looked at her. He reached to inspect her neck. “You okay?”

She nodded, though she was far from it. Ultron’s words about them being killers and his creepy disappearance… it unsettled her. She had a feeling they hadn’t heard the last of him.

She was right. Down in Tony’s lab, they realized Ultron had taken all of the Iron Man suits, Loki’s staff, important files, and hard drives. He was in the internet now and was most likely downloading everything he could about each and every one of them. The thought of that robot looking into her file made (Y/N) feel sick. Only Nick Fury had access to her file, but it was clear that Ultron could bypass that.

They also learned that Ultron could access anything he wanted, like nuclear codes. They all figured out that J.A.R.V.I.S. was the person Ultron killed. Tony revealed that he created Ultron because of a vision the female Maximoff gave him when they seized the scepter. He saw what he called “The Endgame,” and he didn’t believe the Avengers would be enough to save the world. Steve assured him that even if they lost the war, they would do it together.

That night, when all was quiet in the tower and everyone was asleep, (Y/N) began to toss and turn. She couldn’t get Ultron out of her head. The monstrosity followed her into the depths of her nightmares and made her feel trapped. Images of him infiltrating her file terrified her to no end.

She sat up and ran a hand through her hair. It was no use. She needed water, or milk. She climbed out of bed and padded to the elevator. It took her to the kitchen.

She was a few footsteps away from the fridge when she heard it. “(Y/N).”

Ultron. She spun around, her fists out, but there was nothing there. Shocked, she lowered her fists. But then, she heard it again, much more sinister. “(Y/N).”

“What do you want from me?” She tried her best to keep her tone harsh.

“Do they know?” Ultron’s voice was quiet and menacing.

(Y/N) stood at attention. “Do they know what?”

Ultron chuckled darkly. (Y/N)’s eyes darted every which way, but she couldn’t see him, only hear him. “What I read in that file of yours… how many years has it been since the “accident”? Or should we call it what it really is?”

She felt her blood go cold. He wasn’t talking about 2012. He was talking about when she was seventeen. Her breathing got more shallow.

Ultron continued. “I’ll ask again… do… they… know?”

“Please.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper as her mouth dried up. Her hands began to shake.

“It’s the reason you’re not worthy to lift the God of Thunder’s mighty hammer.” The sarcasm in his voice made her heart beat faster. “You will never be worthy. How could you be? You’re a killer. Imagine how your closest friends would react. Just think of God’s righteous man seeing you for who you really are… ”

“No.” She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. “No, no, no.”

His voice, his words… it didn’t stop. Monster… murderer…

The kitchen got darker and more confined, until (Y/N) felt like she was in a cage. The words got louder and louder until she screamed…

Drenched in sweat, (Y/N) jerked upright, panting. Her hands wildly felt around her. She was in bed. It had just been a dream.

But there was a truth to it that shook her to the core, a fear that she hoped and prayed would never come true.

A knock at her door nearly made her jump out of her skin. The intruder spoke up, their voice gentle. “(Y/N), it’s Nat. You okay?”

“Fine, Nat. Just a bad dream,” the girl lied. She fought to take deep breaths and slow her racing heart. “Sorry I woke you.”

She could tell Nat was hesitating so she forced more conviction into her voice. “Seriously, I’m okay. It’s not so bad tonight. Sorry again. Just… don’t mention it to anybody, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As the only girls in the Avengers, they shared this floor together. Unfortunately, nightmares were a common occurrence for (Y/N), and every time she accidentally woke up Natasha, guilt steadily consumed her. She never once let Natasha see her pain, her terror. No one could see. She was the “strong one”, the bold and cheeky (Y/N) that everyone knew and respected. Not the pathetic, shriveling mess that screamed herself awake in the middle of the night.

(Y/N) breathed a shaky sigh of relief when she heard Natasha’s footsteps recede. She was alone. Tears stung her eyes. Always alone.

She curled up in a ball and muffled her sobs, so as not to wake Natasha again.

***

It wasn’t long until they got a tip. Ultron had teamed up with Wanda Maximoff and her twin brother Pietro and were going to make a deal with an old weapons supplier of Tony’s. The rumor was that he had just come into a large stock of vibranium that Ultron wanted to get his hands on.

Pale yellow streams of light poked through the window when (Y/N) woke up. It was the morning of the raid. Silently, she climbed out of bed and suited up. She wore a dark blue leather coat that had leopard print on the inside-- courtesy of Stark. She also wore a blue leather top, black leather pants and boots, and her hair was done in a simple french braid down her back.

She crept into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee, like normal. On a regular day, she’d wake up before dawn and go for a run with Steve. Sometimes they raced each other, sometimes they just walked and talked. But last night, she’d barely gotten any sleep, and she had a feeling Steve would skip the run, too.

After she sat at the bar with her mug, Steve walked in, fiddling with one of his gloves. He was in full Captain gear, and the sight of him made (Y/N)’s heart flutter. He always looked handsome, but his uniform and cropped golden hair along with his gorgeous face and eyes always made heat rush to her cheeks. He was just as handsome as he was good and kind. She definitely didn’t deserve him.

Steve wordlessly made his own cup and sat next to her. His thumbs traced the sides of his mug. “You look tired.”

“Thanks,” (Y/N) muttered. She rubbed her temples. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

“You haven’t been sleeping well since Ultron attacked.” Steve peered at her with his signature mom expression. “You’ve been having nightmares again, haven’t you?”

(Y/N) stiffened and met his gaze. “Nat told you?”

Steve shook his head. “Last night I couldn’t sleep so I went for a run in the stairwell. When I reached your floor I heard screaming so I went to check on you, but Nat came out and stopped me. She told me you were okay and to just leave it.”

(Y/N) was quiet for a second. She felt a little guilty for thinking Nat would betray her. Steve covered her hand with his. “You know you can talk to me, right? I may not have gone through what you and Clint did during 2012, but I’ve seen my fair share of horrors.”

“You haven’t done what I’ve done, Steve,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Before she joined the Avengers, (Y/N) worked closely with Clint and Natasha at S.H.I.E.L.D. She was the only enhanced agent, and everyone fought to keep that a secret. Then, Loki arrived. He turned his scepter on her and Clint, forcing them under the control of the mind stone. It was then that Loki came to notice (Y/N)’s strength and agility. He used her as his prized second in command and ruthless assassin. A lot of the human lives lost in Stuttgart, on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet, and during the Battle of New York were because of her.

Steve sighed. “(Y/N), what’s it gonna take for you to forgive yourself? You were under mind control.”

She shook her head. “So was Loki, but everyone blames him.” She interlaced her fingers with his. “Controlled or not, I have the blood of innocents on my hands.”

For a moment, she imagined what it would be like to tell him about the accident, to share the overwhelming amount of guilt of murdering innocent people in 2012. Would he still be here, holding her hand? Or would he hate her as much as she hated herself? No. She couldn’t tell him. Not till she was ready.

Steve said nothing, just kept holding her hand. He changed the subject, much to her relief. “Are your nightmares about Ultron?”

“Sometimes.” (Y/N) took a sip of her coffee. “I don’t wanna face that Maximoff girl. You heard what she did to Tony.” The thought of someone infiltrating her mind again made her want to throw up.

“I won’t let her near you,” Steve said firmly. He gently placed his index finger under her chin and turned her face toward his. “Do you hear me? I’ll keep you safe, sweetheart.”

She smiled softly, transfixed by his baby blue eyes. His gaze flicked to her lips, and for a split second, he leaned forward—

“Lady (Y/N), are there any Strawberry Pop-Tarts left in the cabinet?” Thor called, trudging into the kitchen in full Asgardian armor.

Looking away from Steve, (Y/N) couldn’t ignore the disappointment washing over her. “Should still be a box on the top shelf, Thunder.” She let go of Steve’s hand, but she didn’t see that he looked crestfallen at the missed opportunity, too.

An hour later, they were all assembled on the Quinjet and headed toward the African coast. Everyone was pretty solemn during the trek, the silence only being broken by Thor’s ramblings and Tony’s jokes. But even the God of Thunder and the sass master himself were more grim than normal.

As they snuck into the salvage yard and the hatch of the Quinjet opened, (Y/N) exchanged a look with Steve. He reached for her hand, squeezed it once, and let go. She didn’t need to hear him speak to know he was telling her he’s got her back.

They ran into the building, finding the discarded bodies of workers all along the floor. Tony in his Iron Man suit led the way, followed by (Y/N), Steve, Thor, Clint, and Natasha. Bruce hung back on the Quinjet-- they didn’t need The Big Guy just yet.

They all split up inside the salvage yard just as Ultron yelled, “Don’t compare me with Stark, he’s a sickness!” He had forged a new suit for himself. The robot was now about seven feet tall with red eyes and a shiny metal body. His back was turned to them.

“Aww, Junior,” Tony called, his voice filtered through the Iron Man helmet. “You’re gonna break your old man’s heart.” He landed down with a clunk on the metal bridge, facing his creation. Thor and Steve were behind him. Natasha and Clint were sneaking in from the sides, and (Y/N) was coming in from the back. Their goal was to box the enemy in.

Ultron turned to face them, flanked by Wanda and Pietro. (Y/N) allowed herself a brief moment of wariness before putting her game face on. She was armed with batons about the length of her arm, coincidentally made of vibranium.

“If I have to,” Ultron drawled, his voice powerful and menacing.

“No one has to break anything,” Thor warned.

Ultron and the Maximoffs approached until they were a few feet away from the three Avengers. “Clearly, you’ve never made an omelet.”

Tony tilted his head. “He beat me by one second.”

(Y/N) shook her head at his almost proud comment. She delicately ducked behind the door behind the Maximoffs and Ultron, peering out at them.

“Ah, so this is funny… Mr. Stark,” Pietro remarked, his Sokovian accent thick. “It’s, what… comfortable?” He glanced down at the missiles and other weapons. “Like old times?”

“This was never my life.” Tony sounded much more serious now.

Steve took a step forward, his eyes on the twins. “You two can still walk away from this.”

Wanda cocked her head. “Oh, we will.”

Steve didn’t back down. “I know you’ve suffered.” They’d heard about the twins losing their parents and nearly dying themselves in the process.

“Ah… Captain America.” Ultron gazed at Steve condescendingly. “God’s righteous man.”

At that, (Y/N) flinched. Ultron had called him that in her nightmare. However, when she saw Steve’s familiar haunted look appear, her fear turned into anger. She withdrew one of her staffs from its sheath.

“Pretending you could live without a war,” Ultron continued. “I can’t physically throw up in my mouth, but-”

“If you believe in peace, then let us keep it,” Thor cut him off.

Ultron took a step closer. “I think you’re confusing peace with quiet.”

Tony was over it. “Yuh-huh. What’s the vibranium for?”

“I’m glad you asked that because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan,” Ultron drawled.

Suddenly, he pulled his metal fist back and the energy sucked Tony forward. Ultron blasted him back against the wall and everyone sprung into action.

Tony and Ultron went head to head as suits-- clearly designed by Ultron-- came pouring out of a doorway. Pietro was a blur as he went around, trying to attack the Avengers. His sister was more successful and managed to blast Steve back.

(Y/N) launched out from the doorway and used her strength and one of her batons to knock the head of a suit clean off its body. She leaped over the railing and landed on the bottom floor. A small grin worked its way onto her face as two suits came down to meet her, tall and strong.

She swept the legs out from under one and started to attack the other, but it dodged her heavy blow. She was grabbed by it but twisted her body, ran along the side of a crate, and flipped up and over the suit, tearing its head off.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint took down a lot of the weapons dealer’s crew, who were shooting at both the suits and the Avengers. Steve forced Pietro to the ground a little ways away from (Y/N). His eyes flicked over to her, watching her battle Ultron’s minions. He’d been keeping his eye on her, and he was relieved and proud that she was holding her own. He smiled and went back to fighting.

Then Wanda struck.

It was Thor who went down first. A quick tendril of magic infiltrated his mind and turned his eyes red.

“Thor! Status!” Steve barked.

Nothing. He saw Thor falter and freeze in place on the second level as if he was frozen in time.

Immediately, he knew it was Wanda. He spun around, eyes wide and filled with worry. Before he could warn his girl, he was knocked backward by Pietro and witnessed his worst fear with a flick of Wanda’s wrist.

(Y/N) had no idea what was happening. She was easily taking down suit after suit, barely breaking a sweat. She heard static crackling in her earpiece but figured that was just a result of everyone’s efforts.

She was about to deliver a fatal blow to the largest of Ultron’s creations when it spoke. “Were you this talented of a fighter at seventeen, Agent (L/N)?”

(Y/N) froze in her tracks, her baton raised over her head. The suit climbed back onto its feet, its eerie eyes peering straight at her. When it spoke again, its voice bore a significant resemblance to that of Ultron’s. She felt like he was directly talking to her.

“That was your first kill.” It wasn’t a question… the suit knew. Ultron had examined her file.

(Y/N) swung at the suit, but her nerves made her sloppy. The suit grabbed her baton, locking her in place. “Did you enjoy your first kill as much as you enjoyed taking the lives you took in the Battle of New York?”

With a shriek, (Y/N) twisted her wrist and tore the baton free. She attacked the suit with both batons, her viciousness masking her vulnerable state of mind. When she’d backed the suit into a corner, she finally let up on her onslaught, panting. “I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t enjoy it then, and I didn’t enjoy it in 2012. I’m not a killer. I was under mind control.”

“Not the first time. You became a murderer of your own accord.” The suit stood again, looming over her.

“Stop it.” (Y/N) shook her head violently.

The suit took a step forward. “How did it feel, watching his life slip away? How did it feel, realizing that you took a life and it was all for nothing?”

(Y/N)’s hands tightened around her batons, trembling. “Stop it.”

The suit was relentless. “How did it feel to be completely and utterly alone?”

“I SAID STOP!” (Y/N) screamed and lunged, but she never reached the suit. A flash of red was all she saw and then the room shifted.

She stumbled and dropped her batons, trying to grasp onto a crate, but she grasped onto a railing instead. It didn’t feel metallic; it was sleek and smooth. She turned her head and realized she was gripping a wooden railing.

She looked up, expecting to see the metal landing and the rest of her friends in the midst of battle. Instead, she saw a carpeted staircase with walls on either side.

Instantly, she felt cold, like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on her head. She was back home, back in the memory that haunted her sleep without relief.

She could hear the thumps from where she stood, tears already springing to her eyes. “No. No,” she choked out and sprinted up the stairs.

Even though she already knew what she would find at the top of the stairs, she still screamed. There was her dad, hovering over her baby brother, beating him bloody. It was obvious that Bobby was having trouble breathing. He was practically lying in a pool of blood.

Dad hated both (Y/N) and Bobby, but once (Y/N) got her powers, he couldn’t take out his aggression on her like when her mom was alive. Instead, he turned his attention to Bobby.

“Stop, you’re gonna kill him!” (Y/N) screamed, echoing the words she spoke when she was seventeen.

“Stay out of this, freak!” Dad roared, giving her a snarl that looked like a dog baring its teeth.

As if on autopilot, (Y/N) gripped onto his shoulders and ripped him away from Bobby. Unlike how it happened all those years ago, she was forced to watch his stumble in slow motion. She stood with her jaw dropped as he tumbled down the stairs and straight into the wall, his head colliding with the plaster so hard that a loud crack split the air. Blood seeped out of the wound, and he lay perfectly still. He was dead.

(Y/N) stared at her hands in revulsion. But tears began to fall when she realized what would happen next.

She whirled around and knelt next to her baby brother, whose chest was heaving and shuddering. This. This was what she saw almost every night, the image that never seemed to escape her. “Hey, hey, Bobby, please. Please. Stay alive. Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me alone!”

Bobby’s innocent eyes met hers briefly before closing. His chest rose once more, but it did not fall. He, too, was still.

“NO!” (Y/N) screamed, scrabbling at his body.

Bobby’s body disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and (Y/N) covered her face with her hands as she cried. She was too late to save him. She tried, but in doing so she killed her dad. He was a menace, but she’d never wanted to hurt him. She never wanted to hurt anybody.

But the nightmare was far from over.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice spoke. However, instead of the normal softness and affection in his voice, this time his tone was laced with disapproval and disgust.

(Y/N) leaped to her feet and turned around, wiping her eyes. Steve stood there, his helmet off. Behind him was Tony, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Bruce. They all looked horrified and furious.

“You just killed your dad,” Bruce said in a hushed voice.

(Y/N)’s hands began to shake. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I-I just-”

“No, no, no, you don’t get to justify what we just saw,” Tony snapped, holding up his finger.

Tears burned (Y/N)’s eyes. “I was a kid. My powers weren’t under control yet! You have to believe me!”

Natasha and Clint looked disappointed. The former Red Room assassin shook her head in disbelief. “I was trained to become a killer. You became one on your own.”

“I didn’t mean to kill him.” (Y/N) couldn’t stop the stream of tears as they steadily dripped down her cheeks. “I was just trying to save my brother.”

“And how’d that work out for you?” Clint scoffed. “How many more dads did you kill in 2012? No wonder Loki chose you-- you’re wicked, just like him.”

(Y/N) couldn’t breathe. She clutched her ribs, desperately forcing air into her lungs. “It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. Guys, please.” She looked at the people she saw as her siblings. “Clint? Nat?” They’d said they understood about 2012… but they were looking at her with pure venom.

One by one, her team turned their backs to her and walked away, disappearing into vapor. The only one who remained was Steve, whose head was lowered.

“Stevie?” (Y/N) tentatively approached him, reaching for his hand.

He ripped it away like she’d burned him and she recoiled. Steve fixed her with a cruel glare. “Now I know why you refused to pick up Thor’s hammer. You’re not worthy, and this is why.”

(Y/N) felt her heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. “Steve-”

“I thought the world of you. I wanted the best for you. I wanted a future with you.” Steve’s voice was low and dark. “Now… I don’t want anything to do with you.”

A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it and she fell to her knees. “Stevie, please!” She grabbed his hand and he pulled it away, walking away from her.

“Stevie, please, come back!” (Y/N) begged and pleaded, but she received no response.

Convulsing with sobs, she curled up on the floor, crying her heart out. Her worst fears had just been realized. The Avengers hated her as much as she hated herself for what she did, and Steve, her Captain… he hated her, too.

“It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t my fault,” she whispered brokenly, wishing she could turn back time and reverse everything. “It wasn’t my fault.”

And that’s how Steve, the real Steve, found her.

When his vision cleared, he hauled himself up. Clint gave him the status report that he took Wanda out of the running, at least temporarily, and the archer went to look for Natasha.

Steve’s mouth went dry. Where was his girl? He reached for his earpiece, ready to command her to tell him where she was, when he heard it. The sobs.

He ran faster than he ever had in his life. It took him only a second to find her, curled up on the floor and crying.

He fell to his knees beside her, tearing off his helmet and setting down his shield. “(Y/N)... hey, hey, hey.” His hands fidgeted, longing to touch her but afraid of how she’d react. “Sweetheart, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”

(Y/N) obeyed him, but her mind was still trapped in another world. Her eyes darted lazily around, the flow of tears never ending. She met his gaze and he flinched when he saw the raw brokenness in their depths. “It wasn’t my fault... it wasn’t my fault.”

Steve frowned and this time, he touched her. He ran his fingers through her hair, which had fallen out of its neat french braid. “What’s not your fault, sweetheart?”

“Please, you have to believe me,” she cried. “It wasn’t my fault, Stevie. You have to believe me. You have to believe me.”

“Hey, hey, shh. It’s okay. I believe you.” Steve’s tone was soft and gentle as he cooed to her, trying to calm her down. Frankly, he was freaked out, too, by her state and what he saw in his own vision. And he was angry. He’d been complacent. He promised her he would keep her safe, that he wouldn’t let Wanda infiltrate her mind. But he was careless, and now his girl was a wreck.

(Y/N) locked eyes with Steve, a bit of hope returning to her (e/c) depths. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Steve confirmed, forcing a smile.

Clint’s voice comes in on the earpiece. “All the tin men are down, but the Maximoffs are gone. So is Ultron. Tony said the Big Guy escaped and he’s fetching him. I think we need to head back to the jet. Tasha’s in bad shape.”

Steve pressed his own earpiece, looking down at the sweet girl who was crying silently next to him. “So is (Y/N). We’ll meet you at the jet.”

He placed his shield on his back and gathered (Y/N)’s weapons, placing them in his belt loops. He gently worked his arm into the crook of her knees and wrapped his other arm around her back. He stood, cradling her in his arms. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get outta here.”

She curled into him, and even though her tears had stopped flowing, she was still looking around blankly, like her mind was still adrift.

He carried her out of the warehouse, through the salvage yard, and onto the Quinjet. Natasha was slumped in a corner, pale and trembling. Thor looked tense and bewildered. Clint was unaffected vision-wise, but he was pacing the floor of the jet and scratching his head.

When Steve entered the jet, Clint turned and stiffened. “Oh, shit.”

Steve ignored his comment, clueing the archer into how worried Steve was. He followed closely as Steve sat down on one of the seats, arranging (Y/N) so she lay comfortably across the seats with her head in his lap.

“What did she see?” Clint asked quietly.

Steve shook his head, his eyes trained on (Y/N)’s face. His fingers gently combed through her hair, and his other hand traced light designs on her hand. “I don’t know. She wasn’t making much sense. She kept saying something wasn’t her fault. I’ve never seen her like this.”

Clint’s gaze was soft as he looked at her. “I was with her when Loki’s spell lifted. She barely spoke after.” He glanced at Steve. “Actually, it was you who got through to her. You got her to talk again. What Loki’s magic made her do… it damaged her. Being mind-controlled once is no joke, but twice?” He sighed. “Poor kid.” He stood and walked over to the pilot’s seat.

Steve’s heart was heavy, but at the same time filled with warmth. Had he really been the one to help (Y/N) come back to herself after 2012? As he gazed down at her, he decided it would be his job to bring her back this time, too.

So he kept stroking her hair, whispering to her. “(Y/N). Come back to me, sweetheart. It’s me, Stevie. If anyone can fight back against the power of that vision, it’s you. You’re strong, so strong. Stronger than all of us. I’m here. Your family’s all here. Just come back. I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go. I promise. You’re safe with me.”

Though (Y/N) didn’t respond, her eyes flicked to meet his gaze and he could’ve sworn he saw a sparkle of recognition return to her eyes. Encouraged, Steve kept talking.

He lost himself in his quiet affirmations and gentle words to her, so much so that he didn’t notice Thor, Clint, and even Natasha watching. Thor and Clint smiled slightly, and Natasha, as shaken as she was, felt emotional watching the tender display. It was really obvious to everyone except Steve and (Y/N) that they had fallen for each other.

The three of them were so moved that when Tony and Bruce returned, Clint went out to meet them and warned them to keep their voices down and not make any comments-- with that bit being directed at Tony-- about what they were about to see.

All Tony said when they walked onto the jet and saw Steve with (Y/N) cradled on his lap was a grumbled, “Finally.”

***

They decided that it was too dangerous to return to the Tower. Ultron was everywhere, and after the whole Hulk incident they needed to lie low. Clint guided the jet toward a location he refused to tell the others about, and spoke quietly with Tony. They were the only two who hadn’t been hit with a vision at the salvage yard.

Thor was acting a little gruffer than normal, Natasha was quiet, and Bruce was weary, but the one they were really worried about was (Y/N). For the entirety of the Quinjet ride, her head rested on Steve’s thigh as she slowly came back to reality. It was Steve’s gentle touches and grounding words that eventually brought her back. But even then, she was uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart,” Steve whispered. “Just keep your eyes on me. Don’t slip back into your head.”

She nodded once, her face lined with sadness and a hint of fear. It made Steve’s heart ache. He kept his blue eyes locked with her (e/c) ones. “Do you remember Clint and Natasha? They’re like your brother and sister. We’re your family. You’re safe with us.”

He kept having to repeat these statements in order to keep her present. He did so without complaint and with a heart full of affection and concern for his girl.

At the mention of Clint and Natasha, the fear grew on her face and Steve moved his hand from her hair to her face. He gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears. “We’re not gonna hurt you. We all love you. I-” He swallowed. “… care about you so much, (Y/N). You’re safe with us, okay?”

“Okay, Stevie.” Her voice was small and quiet, reminding Steve of his mom after getting her ass handed to her by his dad. He hated it, and wanted nothing more for (Y/N)’s smile to return. So, he kept forcing a smile for her sake and continued anchoring her with his words and touches.

After a few hours, Clint landed the jet next to a farmhouse. Steve stood and held out his hands to (Y/N). “Can you stand for me, pretty girl?”

She nodded shakily and stood, taking his hands. He wrapped his arm around her protectively. The other Avengers watched with a mixture of worry and awe on their faces.

He and (Y/N) trailed behind as Clint helped Natasha walk and led Bruce, Tony, and Thor inside the house. When Clint’s pregnant wife appeared, who the Avengers had no idea about (except for Natasha), they all were stunned. Laura and Natasha caught up and Clint introduced them all to his kids and explained why he kept their location a secret.

(Y/N) tried to smile and hesitantly shook Laura’s hand. The yelling of the kids and the chatter of the others made her tense up. Steve rubbed her arms and made eye-contact with Clint.

Having seen (Y/N) go through something like this once before, Clint strode over to them and kept his voice low. “Tasha’s gonna sleep with Laura. Me, Tony, Thor, and Bruce will sleep in the living room. You two can take the guest room.”

(Y/N) was too in her head to fully process what he said, but Steve’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to question why he and (Y/N) should share a room and protest that it wasn’t appropriate, but Clint rolled his eyes. “Just take the damn room. Go. You’ll thank me later.”

Wordlessly, Steve took (Y/N)’s hand and-- after hearing Clint’s directions-- guided her upstairs. He entered a small but quaint room and shut the door. (Y/N) silently sat on the bed, her eyes on her hands.

Steve exhaled deeply. He walked to her and crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. She met his gaze, her expression clouded. Steve squeezed her hands lightly. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What did you see? I want to help you.”

“You won’t once I tell you,” she whispered, tears pricking her eyes.

Steve’s tone was gentle but firm. “Try me.”

(Y/N) took a shaky breath. “Did… did I ever tell you how young I was when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Steve frowned, concentrating. “You said you were seventeen. You were one of their youngest recruits.”

(Y/N)’s hands fidgeted in his grip. “Did I say why I joined?”

“You said you didn’t want to go to college, that you wanted to work there to honor your mother.” Steve sounded puzzled.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “That-that was-um… it wasn’t the whole truth.”

Steve looked at her encouragingly, and that just made it harder for (Y/N). She swallowed. “After I-uh… after I got my powers and my mom died, my dad… he became more violent. He was violent before, but losing Mom just… it just made him snap. He knew he couldn’t hurt me anymore, so he started taking it out on my baby brother. He was only twelve.”

“Go on.” Steve’s eyes were narrowed, but he made an effort to keep his voice soft.

The stinging tears made it difficult for her to see. “One-one day I heard my dad beating my brother, and when I found them, my brother was barely breathing. I yelled at my dad to stop, but he wouldn’t listen.” Tears trickled down her cheeks, one by one, and Steve let go of one of her hands to brush them away. “I eventually grabbed his shirt and shoved him away, but… but I-I shoved him toward the stairs.”

Steve closed his eyes and (Y/N) shook her head. “I couldn’t revive him. The fall killed him. I killed him.”

Steve’s eyes opened and he stared at her. “(Y/N), that was an accident. You didn’t kill him.”

“Stevie, I was too strong for him,” (Y/N) cried. “I should’ve-”

“Stop, stop, stop.” Steve cupped her face. “Sweetheart, you were a kid. Your powers weren’t under control yet. You didn’t mean to hurt your dad; you were just trying to save your brother.” And that monster doesn’t deserve your guilt and shame, he added silently.

(Y/N) sobbed once and Steve moved to sit next to her, pulling her onto his lap and encasing her in his arms. She cried into his shirt, staining it with her tears.

They sat like that for a minute, and he quietly shushed her and whispered words of reassurance. Once her sobs had died down, she pulled back a bit to look at him. “You… you believe me?”

“Of course I do.” His tone was matter-of-fact. Steve cupped her face again. “What happened to your brother?”

(Y/N) shuddered. “He broke a rib and it punctured his lung. I tried to give him CPR… but he was already gone. He’d lost too much blood.” The streams of tears continued to pour down her cheeks. “He was twelve, Stevie.”

Steve’s soul hurt for her, for that little boy he’d never gotten the chance to meet. He gently wiped her tears with his thumbs and kissed her forehead before pressing against it with his own. “I’m so sorry.”

(Y/N)’s small hands grasped onto his wrists as if they were her lifeline. “After that, I found Fury. He’s the only one who knows the whole story… other than you.” Her tone wobbled. “I asked him to lock me up. He gave me a job instead. He took a chance on me.”

Steve pulled her to him and his nose brushed her ear as (Y/N) continued to shake. “I’d managed to redeem myself in my mind. But then 2012 happened. When I realized what I’d done, what I’d been made to do… I was back in that house, with blood on my hands.” She gave a broken laugh. “It’s ironic, really. The girl with super-human strength and agility is weak in the head. She breaks everything she touches. She makes a fucking mess wherever she goes.”

“Stop, stop,” Steve pleaded, pulling back. “You’re strong, (Y/N). So strong. You’re stronger than me, that’s for damn sure, both mentally and in your heart. You don’t break everything you touch; you bring light to the darkest places. You gave a lost super-soldier a reason to smile again, inspired him to be the best hero he could be, which would never be half as good as you. When you make a mess, you own up to it. But you’ve never once willingly put someone in harm’s way. You’ve never once willingly allowed an innocent person to suffer. You love everyone around you with your whole heart.” Steve’s own eyes were brimming with tears now. “Everyone but yourself.”

(Y/N) stared at him. Steve took her hands in his and pressed kiss after kiss to her hands. “You’re a good person. It hurts me to hear you talk like you’re not.” He made eye-contact with her. “I have a feeling I know what you saw in that vision. You saw your dad and brother dying, right?”

“That’s… that’s not all.” Dare she speak the cursed words aloud? If she did… would that make it real? She covered her mouth briefly, looking anywhere but Steve. “You and the others hated me for what I did. You looked at me with pure disappointment. You-you told me… you told me that-that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

If it was even possible, Steve’s heart broke even further. “Oh, sweetheart.” He lifted her chin with his index finger, gently forcing her to look at him. A tear rolled down his cheek. “I could never hate you for what happened. Neither could the others. I’m sure if they found out, they’d all feel nothing but compassion for you. What happened? It wasn’t your fault. We’d never blame you. We all love you.” He moved his hand up to run the backs of his fingers against her cheekbone. She unconsciously leaned into his touch. Steve’s tone held sincerity when he said, “I love you.”

(Y/N)’s breath got caught in her throat. The flow of tears slowed, and Steve noticed. A small, watery smile tugged at his lips. “I love you, sweetheart. Have for a while now.” He shook his head. “And you don’t have to say it back—”

(Y/N) cut him off with a gentle whisper. “But I want to.” She wiped her cheeks and moved to cup his handsome face in her little hands. “I love you, Stevie.”

Steve gazed at her with softness and adoration. He leaned forward and kissed her chastely. The kiss was delicate, but for both of them it felt as if sparks were flying. When he pulled away, (Y/N) pouted and Steve laughed. He rubbed his nose against hers. “Trust me, sweetheart, when you’re feeling better, I’ll give you all the kisses you want. But I don’t wanna take advantage.”

(Y/N)’s heart fluttered. Whether it was because he was from the 40s, or because he was just a true gentleman, he was the most considerate man she’d ever met.

She scrubbed her face, stifling a yawn as she did so. Steve noticed. “I think someone’s tired. Lie down.”

She could hear a tiny bit of his Captain voice as he spoke, and that made her smile. She was exhausted, it was true. Barely sleeping for the past couple weeks on top of the emotional baggage of today was more than draining.

She climbed under the covers of the queen-sized bed, and before she could ask Steve to stay, he shuffled over to her. “Scoot over, big guy coming through.”

(Y/N) laughed softly and did as he asked. Pretty soon, her back was against his chest and his big arms were encircled around her. He sighed, content.

She felt herself falling asleep already, but curiosity nagged at her. “What did you see in your vision?”

Steve sighed again, but this time, she could practically hear the resignation in it. “I saw myself going back to the 40s and dancing with Peggy.”

A bolt of jealousy and unease struck her. “Why did Wanda show you that?”

Steve buried his face in her hair, lightly brushing his lips against her ear and making her shiver. “Because she wanted to show us all our biggest fear.”

The unease faded to confusion. “Why was dancing with Peggy your biggest fear?”

“Because she wasn’t you,” Steve said simply. She felt his embrace get a little tighter. “I still care deeply for Peggy, and I try to visit her as much as I can, but I stopped dreaming about a life where I had been with her once I realized my dreams were now about you. I stopped loving her the minute I fell in love with you. Dancing with her… it was a picture of the life I don’t want anymore. It was empty and lifeless because you were gone. You’re my best girl.”

Tears sprung to (Y/N)’s eyes once more. He seemed to sense this and moved his lips from her ear to her temple. He kissed her hair and brushed his nose along her cheekbone. “Let’s go to sleep.”

(Y/N) nodded, and when she spoke she was half teasing, half serious. “Dream of me?”

Steve chuckled. “Always, pretty girl.”

They fell asleep minutes later, the super-soldier holding his girl securely to his chest. They didn’t hear the door open a crack, nor did they see Natasha peek her head in.

She smiled softly when she saw them and shut the door. She turned to face Tony, Clint, Thor, and Bruce, who all eagerly awaited the report.

“They fell asleep cuddling in the bed.” Natasha grinned at Clint. “They finally exchanged their “I love you”s.

Clint had a huge smile on his face, and he turned to Tony and held out his hand. Tony grumbled and handed him a twenty-dollar bill. “You rigged it by giving them the same room.”

“Hey, I did that so he could comfort her in private.” Clint smirked and pocketed the money. “Them finally admitting their feelings was just an added bonus.”

Bruce glanced at Tony. “So if Clint betted they’d admit their feelings, what did you bet?”

“That the Leopard and Capsicle would break the bed,” Tony muttered nonchalantly.

Natasha thumped him and Bruce facepalmed himself. Thor beamed. “No, no. The Captain is far too chivalrous for that. The courting ritual back in Asgard--”

“We can hear you guys,” Steve called, his tone a mixture of tiredness and amusement.

Natasha grabbed the boys and shoved them away from the door. She apologized to Steve and (Y/N) and walked away, muttering, “I swear, men are idiots.”

***

Thanks for reading!!!

[chrissy-kaos]

**Health update**

So I never wanted to make another post like this but here I am.. I was hoping to just get better and never bring it up again.

To get those of you up to speed. I was diagnosed with CKD back in late 2021. I’ve been battling that for a while now. I’m actually doing really well in that regard. During a routine MRI in Nov 2023 for my kidneys we found what looked to be a hepatic steatosis and splenomegaly. It was later determined and I was diagnosed with hepatic tumors and splenomegaly. I also had a fairly large gallstone and what appeared to be a tumor/cyst on my gallbladder. We decided it was just better to remove my GB and the tumors all at the same time. So in January of this year I had laparoscopic cholecystectomy/tumor removal. That’s what the scars on my stomach are from. The tumors were tested and were benign. That was a huge relief. But it left my liver fairly damaged. I wasn’t to concerned about because your liver can and will heal itself. I recovered well and felt great.

Fast forward 9 months. I wasn’t feeling very well. So I made an appointment with my PCP and she wanted me to do a bloodwork panel. This is normal. We actually do blood once a month but really only check kidneys, thyroid, and hormones. So I did the panel and when the test results came in my Dr called me immediately. She ordered another AST/hepatic function panel for my liver, kidneys and pancreas.

After those test results came in she had me come to her office. I was met with her and a Hepatologist. They broke the news to me that unfortunately my liver not doing well according to the bloodwork. My pancreas/kidneys are actually pretty ok rn which is cool. But my total bilirubin is 1.4 mg/dl. At 1.5 mg/dl total bilirubin is where we really start looking at the possibility of Cirrhosis. If you don’t know what that is. Google it. Now I’m not saying I have this rn but it seems to be looking that way 🫤

They were telling me they could see my bilirubin trending up over the course of the past few months of bloodwork. Also previously being diagnosed with Splenomegaly which is a tell tale sign of Cirrhosis apparently. They’re pretty sure I have it or will have it. They want to run more tests and see how bad or good it is and we’ll go from there. It seems like they have a pretty good plan. Also for those of you that are going to say get a second opinion.. I got a second and a third. They said the same thing go figure..

So again I find myself going in and out of the hospital again. I don’t wish this life upon anyone. It’s not fun. Being chronically/terminally ill is no fucking joke. If it’s not one thing it’s another. It’s tiring and I’m soo tired. Honestly I can’t wait until it’s all over.. forever.

Anyway I figured I’d give you a bit of an update on my health and such. A lot of you ask in my DMs. It’s hard to answer everyone so a post like this gets it out there. But yea if you made it this far thank you and I love you 🫶🏻

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Idk if you were serious or not but I would love a Gagamaru fic where a shy/skittish reader wakes up from a nightmare & calls Gagamaru for comfort but our feral boy is on the move & just comes over instead & spends the night spooning y/n

── NIGHTMARE

Synopsis: Gagamaru has an unorthodox method of comforting you when you call him after a nightmare, but it works well enough that you can’t complain.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Gagamau x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.4k

Content Warnings: nightmares, scaredy-cat reader, gagamaru is a lil weird but he’s got his heart in the right place so we love him

A/N: anon i NEVER joke about writing for obscure characters HAHA i will literally take any chance to do so hehe 🤩 i hope this is close to what you wanted anon!! i’ve literally never written gagamaru before so hopefully he’s not toooo ooc

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

For a moment, you couldn’t be sure why you were awake or where you were. All you knew was that your heart was racing and your palms were clammy and your blanket was stifling, so stifling, but when you went to cast it away a voice in the back of your mind screamed don’t!

You gasped when you remembered. There was a person in your room, standing at the foot of your bed, a shadowy figure with a malevolent aura that was smiling at you sinisterly, waiting for you to notice them so that they could — so that they could — you squeezed your eyes shut and burrowed yourself back under the covers, hugging your knees to your chest and doing your best not to move or breathe or think or anything.

As your thoughts slowed, you blinked, realizing that you had just woken up from a nightmare, and there was a high chance that the person wasn’t real. Creeping back out of the sheets, you took a deep breath and then, all at once, flung them aside and raced to the light switch, flicking it on and holding your hands out in front of you defensively.

There was nothing. Your room was undisturbed, but your heart was still pounding, and you could not bring yourself to go back to sleep, not when the dream had been so vivid. Leaving the lights on, you returned to your bed, sitting on the edge with your legs crossed, turning on your phone and wincing when you saw the time.

Gagamaru’s voice sounded the same when he picked up your call, though it was rough and slightly distorted, no doubt a symptom of the cell service wherever he was. It was thick with sleep, as well, and belatedly you remembered how careful he always was to get a proper amount of sleep.

“Hello, Y/N?” he said.

“Gagamaru,” you sniffed, glancing at the depths of your closet, which were dark and endless and almost certainly contained something or another of the frightening sort. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said. “Did something happen?”

“No,” you said. “Yes. I can’t sleep.”

“This is why you shouldn’t be on your phone so late. Screens are bad for your eyes,” he said.

“It’s not that,” you said. “I had a nightmare.”

“Ah,” he said. “Like, you saw something scary in your sleep?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Okay,” he said, and then, abruptly, the call ended. You frowned, and for a moment you were too bewildered to be frightened, but then the emptiness of the house became too overwhelming, the silence without his voice all but deafening. There was a noise from downstairs, creaking and ominous, and though you knew it was most likely just the groan of the house settling or the whine of the fridge, it made you whimper and dive back into the safety of your blankets, leaving the lights on as you stared up at the ceiling.

A few moments later, there was a knock on your window. You waited, hoping beyond hope that it was a figment of your overactive imagination, but right after that was a second knock. You squealed, scrambling backwards, your blankets pulled up to your face, your back pressed against the headboard, only your eyes peeping out so you could stare at the window.

“Y/N, it’s me!” The shout was muffled, but it was undoubtedly Gagamaru, and although you really shouldn’t have been surprised, you were still somehow confused as you crossed your room to open the window for him. 

“Gagamaru?” you said. He was hanging on your windowsill with an uncanny dexterity, and when he saw you, his face split into a wide grin. You stumbled backwards as he swung into your room, shutting the window behind him. 

“You told me you had a nightmare, so I came to see you,” he said. “Was that wrong?”

You and Gagamaru had been going to school together for a while now, but while the others had shunned him for his wild strangeness, you had found it to be entirely appealing. There was a sort of kindness in his inability to sugarcoat anything, and his bluntness contrasted so harshly with your skittish demeanor that it circled around into compatibility. The two of you had been friends almost since you had met, although recently, your relationship with him had grown beyond mere friendship into something more — something that wasn’t quite definable but definitely crossed the line into a closeness that you had never felt with another person before.

“It wasn’t wrong, just unexpected,” you said, already more at ease now that he was there. His mere presence, imposing like a beast, felt like enough to ward anyone off if he didn’t want them there. “Especially that you got here so fast.”

“I know how you are,” he said, flopping onto your bed. “I didn’t want you to be scared for even a moment longer than you had to be. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep if I’m here?”

“Maybe,” you said. “Let me turn off the lights and try.”

You fumbled your way back to the bed in the darkness, lying beside him, your back to his broad chest as you tried to close your eyes. He tossed a casual arm over your waist, exhaling softly, and though you did feel marginally better, you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to sleep.

“Not working?” he said.

“You could tell?” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Your breathing isn’t even enough for you to be asleep. Do you want to talk about it?”

“It was horrible,” you said, swallowing, moving so that you could hold onto his hand. “There was a man waiting to kill me. It wasn’t for any reason — he just thought it was funny. He was waiting for me to wake up and realize that I was about to die, and then he was going to do it.”

“Hm,” he murmured sleepily.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you said, a tear dripping from your eyes and splashing onto your pillow. “It’s dumb to be this scared over a dream, isn’t it?”

“You’re not stupid,” he said. “That’s scary. If I had that dream, I’d probably be scared when I woke up, too.”

“I bet you wouldn’t stay this scared for so long,” you said.

“Nah,” he said. “But that’s not a bad thing. I can’t be scared because I’ve gotta look out for you. You know I won’t ever let anything hurt you, right?”

“Even that stupid dream?” you said. “What if it’s real?”

“I’ll beat him up,” Gagamaru mumbled into your hair, adjusting his grip on you so that he could run his fingers along your sides. “I’ve fought a bear before….do you think some guy is going to be anything?”

“I remember that,” you said, laughing softly. He had come into school that day with bandages on his ears and a bruise on his cheek and an effortless attitude, as if it was just another day for him, as if ordinary people also went around wrestling with bears. “You’re crazy.”

“It’s not that hard to do,” he said. “Can you sleep now?”

He used his free hand to cover your eyes, giving you no choice but to close them. You exhaled and found that it would not be so difficult at all.

“I think I can,” you said. “You’ll stay, right? If something happens, you’ll be here?”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, of course I will be. Why would I tell you I’d look out for you and then leave?”

It wasn’t like you were any less frightened, but having Gagamaru by your side was a boost of confidence, enough of one that you could finally be comfortable with drifting off. Maybe it was true that someone might come and try to hurt you. Maybe you’d slip into another nightmare — but this time, when you woke up, it would be with him, and you didn’t think it would be so horrible if he was there.

“I guess you wouldn’t,” you said.

“I wouldn’t,” he affirmed, sounding barely-awake at this point. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you said. “Thank you for coming all of this way.”

“Of course,” he said. “I always will. If you need me, I’ll be there, and that’s a promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said with a yawn. “I really will.”

“You do that,” he said, wrapping himself around you tighter. It was then, and only then, that you could finally settle into sleep — one thankfully free of anything but happier scenes, some of them even reminiscent of the first days that you had met Gagamaru.

[midi-san]

Golden Cheese and Smoked Cheese and hey who that?

Soooooo I’ve been meaning to post this for a while but just never got to it. So better late than never here you go!

I also wrote a little (1,900+ words) fic to accompany this so here’s that too!

Golden Cheese stared at the crumbled remains of Burning Spice’s temple. To think, this place was once somewhere you can voice your opinion to a kind and knowing deity. It became a breeding ground for a tyrant’s rampage of destruction, and now, it’s nothing. To think, all this carnage, all the lives lost, kingdoms brought to ruin…

Was because one cookie wanted to satisfy his boredom.

She couldn’t help but grit her teeth at the thought of it.

“...My… en… My Queeeeen?! Hellloooo? Are you still there?” Leave it to Smoked Cheese Cookie’s snark to snap her out of her thoughts. Golden Cheese let out a mixture of a guffaw and a scoff.

“Yes Smoked Cheese Cookie, I am alright.” She said, staring back at the ruins, back at…

“You know…” Smoked Cheese started, “for all your posturing and provacity, you really do wear your heart on your sleeve.”

Golden Cheese raised a brow, “Where are you going with this?”

“Something is bothering you: what is it?”

———

The secret passageway Elder Kulfi showed them was as barren as ever. They should be using this to find the Kulfi but instead they are doing… something else entirely. The canyons patterned with different colored rocks looked like they touched the sky from a worm’s eye view. From a bird’s eye view however, it just made things harder to see, with all the twists and turns made by rivers long gone. Golden Cheese was looking for something. For what? Smoked Cheese didn’t know. All he knows is that it was something important that the Golden Sovereign couldn’t ignore. And knowing Golden Cheese, it’s probably something inconsequential, like always.

A few minutes of being carried by the overgrown bird later and they land, right in front of a foreign red crater that stuck out amongst the white sand like a lesion. Smoked Cheese scanned his surroundings: rubble, rubble, that giant crater Burning Spice made, even more rubble— wait where did his Radiance go? To the side he Golden Cheese near multiple piles of boulders, walking over each and every one of them. She was standing over them as if she was trying to…detect something. She eventually came across an indistinguishable pile of rubble near the crater. After a few seconds of staring at it, she begins to dismantle the heap of stone, pushing the smaller rocks away and breaking the larger ones with her spear.

The abruptness made Smoked Cheese flinch. He’s rarely seen Golden Cheese act with such haste. “Whu— My Queen! What are you doing? What is so important in this forgotten canyon that you’d waste time trying to dig it up from…!” He was going to try and convince her to stop whatever inconsequential thing she wants here. He was going to tell her to focus her energy on finding the Kulfi so they can get back home.

But then he saw her face.

Her expression was so… unreadable, yet her furrowed eyebrows gave way to this forlornness in her eyes. She mumbled, “Do you think you can help me with this?” He was alarmed by how soft her tone was. A few minutes ago she was flying high, cracking jokes and arguing with him on how the Kulfi would definitely want to join her kingdom. Now, she’s standing in an abandoned graveyard, a foot on one of the rocks she moved with her spear wedged between some boulders with this air of melancholy around her. He silently nods, sighing in his head.

And so they began shoveling heaps of stone and rock. Smoked Cheese was wheezing from  heaving up a particularly heavy boulder, his hands chafed from touching their coarse surface. They made good leeway, the sun was still in the sky as the two cookies made a noticeable dip in the rubble. Throughout this endeavor, that same little question prevailed in the back of his mind: What was Golden Cheese Cookie looking for here? 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he saw Golden Cheese Cookie drag… something out of the rubble. It wasn’t a rock, it was too long to be rock. Not to mention it was too green and pale to be apart of the layered rocks that made the canyon and—

And then he felt his heart stop as he saw bits of cilantro flaking off and onto the ground.

Golden Cheese heaved the body of Cilantro Cobra Cookie a ways away from boulders. The snake woman’s body has certainly seen better days, chips and cracks littered all over her dough. Her snake half had quite a few places where it bent abnormally. Her leafy, cilantro hair was torn and damaged in multiple places. But the real kicker came when Golden Cheese gently flipped her over on her stomach, careful as to not agitate any loose crumbs on her dough. What he saw made him visibly lurch.

The dress she used to wear was in tatters, revealing the nasty wound on her back that was akin to the crater that crushed her. She must have gotten hit from the fallen debris before being buried by the rocks. Instinctively, Smoked Cheese reached for her wrist, checking for a pulse he knows isn’t there: it wasn’t possible. There’s no way someone could survive being buried under an avalanche for so long, let alone after sustaining a serious injury like that. But then he heard a thump, and a few seconds later, another thump. It was weak, it was slow but cheeses, it was there. She was alive. 

But his hope was instantly dashed when he thought about it. There was no way she’d survive long without medical treatment. Even if by some miracle her warriors were able to her, she would surely crumble during the long arduous journey back to the tribe. His face shifted to that of pity, there was nothing they could do. 

He sighed, “Her pulse is present but it’s weak, too weak. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”

“Correction Smoked Cheese Cookie: there is nothing you can do,” she said, picking up and holding the snake’s body, her chin perched on the golden queen’s shoulder with her back exposed to the open spicy air, “But there is something I can do.” Before Smoked Cheese Cookie could say anything, she lifted her free hand and focused her magic. Soon, bits of sand and rock began forming around her palm. But knowing what he knows now, it wasn’t just sand and rock.

Smoked Cheese never considered His Radiance a magic user. The most he ever saw her use magic was from creating her spears from the earth. Any other time she was using her strength, smarts, flight, and… ‘charming personality’ to get by in the world. No, Smoked Cheese never saw Golden Cheese as a magic user.

But then the Dark Flour War happened.

Smoked Cheese was the first to wake up. Why him and not Mozzarella? He’ll never know (she was in fact the last to be awakened in the virtual world). Golden Cheese showed him the ropes, how the virtual world worked, her plans for this virtual world, its systems…

And more importantly, how she did this in the first place. He saw her focus her energy, her magic, and meticulously sorted every crumb of cookie that had a part of a soul into a soulcheese. The soulcheeses would then be stored in a cellar for safekeeping until she could get the server running. 

It was the most innovative, yet macabre way of using magic he has ever seen. And now he’s seeing it first hand. But instead of picking out cookie crumbs and infusing them into soulcheese, it was picking out cookie crumbs and reinfusing them with a barely living body.

A golden, geometric shield formed around the three cookies, coating the snake’s wound in a thin layer of gold. Her magic placed the crumbs on the wound like a jigsaw puzzle, making sure each was in its rightful place. Naturally, it was impossible to recover every bit of crumb and dust from the earth, which is why any leftover cracks and chips were filled with gold instead. 

“May the Radiance of Gold shine upon you…” Golden Cheese muttered softly, tracing the cracks with her fingers as the dome slowly faded. As the Radiant Queen set the Spice chief down, Smoked Cheese noticed Cilantro Cobra Cookie’s breathing seemed to have stabilized. Golden Cheese gently patted the snake woman’s now ruined, messy hair, “She will wake up in a couple hours. The rest will depend if anyone finds her.” She said as she stood up, dusting herself off.

Smoked Cheese stepped forward, “How do you know anyone is looking for her?” He remembered when Burning Spice crashed down, sending the weakened naga flying somewhere. He heard a few of the Cilantro Cobra tribesmen call out her name before being silenced by the destructive tyrant, scared stiff. 

“Oh,” she started off, a hint of playfulness coming back to her voice, “I just know.” She leaned to the left as she looked at something from behind Smoked Cheese Cookie. Earning a confused look from the general, he whipped his head around just fast enough to notice a blur of leafy green quickly hide behind a canyon wall.

Whu— were those—when did—how’d she—HUH?!

His stunned dumbfoundedness was quickly interrupted as the Golden Goddess scooped him up bridal style, “Now my dear general, let us go find the Kulfi for their aid!” She announced, flapping her magnificent wings as she laughed. All Smoke Cheese could do was sputter about as Golden Cheese flew up and out of the canyon. He also couldn’t help but steal a glance of the two cobras still hiding behind the rock wall, slowly coming out to approach their alive, but still incapacitated leader.

“I must ask this once again, are you sure leaving her here was a good idea?” Smoked Cheese finally managed to say.

“Did you not hear me earlier? She’ll be fine, probably won’t remember any of this happened. She’ll be back to her merry little destructive life in no time.”

“But why? Why help her? The last time we saw her, she was threatening our most —and only— beneficial allies with blackmail! How could you possibly have sympathy for someone like that?!”

Her ever gleaming eyes dimmed just a smidge, “A life, a bright gleaming, shimmering light. And just as it’s about to reach its pinnacle, it’s cruelly snuffed out by the power-hungry. I have seen too much of that happen already.”

Oh.

…Oh.

“…I see.” Was all he could say

The silence that permeated the skies after that was deafening. It left the vizer to ruminate on his thoughts. For all her self-absorbed arrogance, she was surprisingly empathetic, almost to her detriment. She was an amazing ally if she found you as someone important to her. Golden Cheese was also, however, a cookie absorbed in nostalgia. So the real question was: Why did she save the leader of the Cilantro Cobras? Was it out of the goodness of her heart, or out of some peculiar way of self soothing the part of her that wishes she could’ve been there for her subjects sooner?

Whichever it was, he didn’t have the time to ponder, for he was snapped out of his thoughts by the golden queen carrying him. Apparently she thought the mood was much too dreary and continued on with her essay-long speech as to why the Kulfi would and should join her kingdom.

All Smoked Cheese could do was roll his eyes with a sigh as an exasperated smile formed on his face. He was already mentally preparing his rebuttal as the two of them flew out of the canyon and towards the sunset (which is hopefully the direction the Kulfi went).

Fin.

[bisexualiteaa]

How The Boys Met You

Character list: Soap, Price, Gaz, König, and Ghost

AN: This one is a little different than the stuff I’ve been posting lately, sort of a throw back to some of my old content! I will be getting back to the regular stuff as well, just wanted to post some of the things that have been in the works for a while now! Hope y’all enjoy! 🥰

CW: slight OOC task force 141 + König, deviance from the games, fem bodied reader, possibly poor attempt at writing accents, flirting, talk of dating apps, being stood up, mentions of alc0h0l, mentions of w0unds, mostly fluff, slight suggestive themes, cursing, possible grammar and spelling errors

Taglist: @expirednukacola

John “Soap” MacTavish

- He was at his favorite pub, spending the weekend enjoying a few drinks with a couple of the guys.

- Three beers deep, going on about some stupid story that anyone could tell by the guy’s faces that he’d told a million times already, and every time told it as if they hadn’t all been there to witness it just to get to the butt of a joke.

- ✨Then you walked in✨

- He was speechless as you walked up to the bar. Your cute, form fitting dress on, heels that made your legs look absolutely stunning and your make up all done. You looked too damn good to be sitting in a place like this he thought.

- The only thing off about it all? You had a sad look on your face as you sat down, breathing a heavy sigh before the bartender made his way over to you so that you could order a drink.

- It made his heart hurt to see someone so pretty look so sad, not to mention the guys were totally teasing him and daring him to talk to you.

- The “make your move before I do” ™️

- “I’ll have an old fashioned please, extra cherries” you ordered, and he knew right then and there that you were different than the usual crowd this place pulled in.

- “Put it on my tab, I think I’ll have the same” Johnny spoke, making you turn to look at him, intrigued by his Scottish accent and the fact that he had just paid for you.

- You tried telling him he didn’t have to, but he kindly insisted, making you blush before you thanked him.

- “You look beautiful if ya don’t mind me sayin” he said, making you smile at his compliment, the first one you’d gotten all night. “Thank you! It was a new dress I bought for a date tonight but…I got stood up. So I came here instead to take a little of the pain away” you responded, and he understood where the pain in your eyes came from now.

- “Steamin’ Jesus…someone really stood you up? What ‘n idiot. They really missed out. Ya look stunnin’. Anyone would be lucky t’ go out with a gal like you” Johnny said, making you blush again as you smiled.

- Secretly it made your night.

- “How about I give it a try? We have some drinks, I tell you a little about myself, you tell me about your fine self, and we have a good time in the makin’? I’d happily make up for the screw up they made to get t’ know ya and see ya leave with a smile if you’re willin’. And if I’m lucky, hopefully I’ll get t’ leave with your number so we can have a second one” he said, and rather smoothly at that, making you giggle as you took a sip of your drink. “Alright lover boy, seeing as we have drinks, tell me about yourself” you replied with a grin and he lit up with joy at your humor and you accepting his offer.

- Was better than you could have ever expected, certainly better than the stuffy, upscale place you were at originally. You were glad you ended up meeting someone at the pub he soon figured out that you frequented just about as much as he did.

- Even better? You went home with a smile, he went home with your number in his phone, and both of you went home with a plan for a second date. 💖

Captain John Price

- You were a barista at his favorite cafe he’d been going to for years now.

- When he wasn’t gone on deployment, he would come every day at the same time around lunch time, right before the rush, and leave once it was done.

- He ordered the same thing every time. Hot tea no matter the temperature outside, two sugars and a splash of cream and he would sit in the same spot by the window, reading or working on his laptop.

- You learned he was never terribly big on sweets, assuming he got most of his sugar intake with his drink, but every once in a while you’d slip him a bakery item for free.

- He was convinced it was just you being nice and making sure he had food before returning to work because it was a bad habit he was doing his best to break, but anyone else who knew? Was thoroughly convinced it was your own method of flirting with him.

- Sometimes you would take your break and sit and talk with him, try and get to know him more than just his order, the name he would give you to write on the cup and his phone number for the rewards account.

- One day it had been a particularly difficult day before he’d come in, but upon walking in and breathing in the lovely smells, seeing your bright smile, and hearing you sweetly greet him, he already felt ten times better.

- He returned the sentiment as he walked up to the counter, not even opening his mouth before you had put his order in the POS already, wishing to save him the trouble with how stressed and tired he looked. “A delight as always, love” he said, making you smile again. “Rough morning?” You asked as you made it for him, seeing stress written all over his face made you feel for him. “Very” he responded through a sigh as he took out his wallet while talking to you and watching you make it. “Four twenty nine as usual?” He asked, making you smile as you sat it down in front of him. “It’s on the house today. Please, sit and rest, I’ll have it out to you asap!” you said sweetly. “And if it isn’t too classified, I go on break in ten. I’m happy to lend an ear if you wish to confide your burdens or just to talk” you added, making him smile as he took a seat, pulling a chair out for you for when you were clocked out on break.

- You spent a little over time on break talking, having lost track of the time but it wasn’t busy so you knew it was okay.

- As he was about to leave as you were clocking back in, but it was then that he saw you’d left your number on the back of his cup, making him smile before quickly adding you into his contacts.

- Hello love, this is John. I wanted to say it was lovely talking with you today, thank you for the tea and for making the rest of my day go by much better. ❤️ I’d like to take you somewhere that isn’t the cafe sometime if you’d allow me, what do you say? you read on your phone, making a bright smile stretch to your lips as you excitedly responded and planned a proper date with him.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

- Poor Kyle had been on just about every dating app he and the boys could to find to get him the perfect girl to settle down with.

- From Tinder, to Hinge, to failed dates set up by finding people in person, he wasn’t sure if his heart would be able to withstand anymore heartbreak.

- This was attempt number eight, with seven dates failed before this. Why was the dating world so difficult now? He did everything he could to be himself and present himself as someone suitable.

- He swore to himself that if this one didn’t work out, that he would give up on it entirely. After all they do say you don’t find the right one when you’re searching for them, they find you.

- Or at least that’s what the married ones say.

- So when his date was running twenty, almost thirty minutes late to their supposed date, he was hurt but sadly wasn’t shocked either.

- He gave a heavy sigh as he checked his watch, then his phone for any communication from her. No text messages, no calls, absolutely nothing to let him know that his date was on their way or even still on for it.

- You were sat at the bar enjoying a few drinks as you normally do on the weekends, when you saw him walk in and grab a table for two.

- He was a handsome young man in your eyes, nicely dressed in a nice dress shirt, slacks, and a nice jacket seeing as it was raining outside.

- You were slightly saddened to find that he was there waiting for a someone else, assuming he was on a date, but when you’d stolen a few glances his way through the night, you noticed he’d been sitting there for a while and the second person had yet to show up.

- Your heart hurt for him, knowing what it was like to be stood up, it was the reason you gave up on dating all together yourself.

- When more time had passed by and his date still hadn’t shown, you decided to take the faithful leap.

- You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in your system, or just the way that you sympathized with what he was going through, but just as he was getting ready to stand up and walk out, you found yourself walking over to his table.

- “Hey there handsome, I couldn’t help but see you’ve been sitting here for a while. Mind if I join you?” You asked kindly, and he had to admit, it took him back a bit.

- You looked stunning, donned in a nice cocktail dress, your hair and makeup done nicely, he figured you came here often with the way the waiters knew you and your drink order well.

- “Sure, that sounds lovely actually” he replied, his British accent taking you by slight surprise but with a kind smile in return. Maybe this failed date could take a turn for the better after all.

- You two sat and spoke over shared glasses of wine, some food, and got to know each other some.

- You talked of your hobbies, your work, your life goals, your favorite things, over all it had turned out far nicer than he could have imagined it would have been.

- You were both laughing and talking amongst each other when another woman came up to the table, looking dressed for a date and seemingly not very happy to see you sitting in her place.

- “Umm excuse me, I think you have the wrong guy, I’m supposed to be on a date with him” the girl spoke, pointing to him and regarding him as if he were an object of her possession making you turn to her and you fought to stifle a harsh laugh.

- “Oh I’m sorry, were you the one whose seat I’m in? Funny because you’re about two hours late sister. Finders keepers” you replied, trying to wave her off then turn back to Kyle and ignore the woman who clearly stood him up by the hickies all over her neck that were very poorly covered.

- “Excuse me?!” She asked angrily, making you turn back to her once again, only this time more annoyed at her persistence and rudeness. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were dense and rude, I said finders keepers. Should keep that in mind next time when you decide to be late to a date because you were too busy having fun with another” you said, gesturing to her hair that was slightly unkempt and the fresh love bites along her neck.

- It took everything in Kyle to not let his jaw hit the table at your response in his defense.

- He liked you even more now.

- “Oh and newsflash sweetie, that concealer really isn’t your shade. If you want to cover up hickies, find one that matches. Now if you excuse us, we’re trying to have a nice dinner here and I’d really like to get back to the very nice man you decided to stand up” you said, making her angrily scoff and look to Kyle for his defense.

- “Ugh, Kevin! C’mon, tell her to leave! This was supposed to be our night!” She said, making you cringe at her whiney tone and the way she didn’t even know his name.

- “My name’s Kyle and no. She was kind enough t’ come up t’ me when you weren’t here and I’m havin’ a rather lovely time with her. I’m sure the date who entertained you before this would happily take you back. I will not be rude and ask the woman who’s so kindly kept me company to leave because you think you’re entitled to crash our date” he replied, and she did NOT like that one bit.

- “DATE?! Ugh, whatever! I knew I shouldn’t have come here” she said angrily before stomping away once it became apparent that you weren’t leaving.

- He couldn’t have been more relieved, then soon enamored by you. First, you come over to him because you didn’t want him to be alone, then you defend him against his date?

- Where have you been all this time?

- “That was your date? If you asked me, I think you dodged a bullet there” you said with a grin, making him chuckle.

- “I couldn’t agree with you more” he replied, enjoying your company far more.

- “Glad to know you’re having a lovely time with me, because the feeling is quite mutual” you said genuinely, making a blush rise to his face before smiling back at you.

- Once the date was over, you both exchanged numbers, keeping in contact and being sure to step up more dates to come.

- Maybe his married buddies were right, all it took was for him to stop searching and there you suddenly were.

König

- He wasn’t exactly proud of it, but he met you through one of the guys who had set you up with him as a one night stand.

- Someone that would just give him some fun and a chance to relax for a night, with the guys claiming he needed to be “less tense”

- He’d had his fair share of sexual encounters before from past girlfriends and the occasional hookup, but something about you felt different.

- You were kind and sweet, a little shy, and of course really attractive.

- Not to mention the sex was unbelievably good.

- He loved that he was so much bigger than you, that you felt so small in his hands as they slid around your waist and to your hips as he kissed you, and how yours trailed his biceps and hard chest.

- Thought it was cute that you have to get up on your tiptoes to kiss him or to loop your arms around his neck.

- What he loved most was how you toyed with him, how you could be obedient and bratty, you could be dominant and submissive.

- You had an almost chaotic, unpredictable air about you.

- You were the wild card he’s been looking for.

- So as you both laid in his bed, his hand running along your back soothingly as you laid on top of him, naked and enjoying the after glow of the activities you’d just taken part in, the words left him without any second thought.

- “Could we…maybe see each other again, liebling?” He asked, and how you swooned at the nickname and his German accent.

- You thought it was so cute that a man of his stature, someone who looked so scary and big could be so shy.

- “Awww, do I have someone hooked?” You asked in a teasing tone with a devious giggle to match, making him blush at your words.

- “It doesn’t have to be like this again i-if you don’t want it to” he stammered, making you giggle as he tripped over his words a little.

- “I wouldn’t half mind if it was…” you said with a half lidded grin, littering kisses against his neck and chest because truth be told, you were a little hooked on him too.

- “Would you let me take you out? Properly get to know you?” He asked, wanting to treat you right, wanting to show that he had better intentions than just a one night stand if you’d let him.

- He’d have started that way had one of his friends not set this up without him knowing.

- “that sounds really nice” you replied sweetly, liking the idea of maybe seeing where it goes.

- It was adorable seeing the excitement that flashed in his eyes when you agreed, making you giggle.

- “Such a gentleman, I like it” you added, feeling butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach at the thought.

- He gave a chuckle as he rolled you both to where he was on top of you, taking you by surprise at first before looking up at him with that half lidded gaze he couldn’t get enough of.

- “I’ll take you out to dinner, get to know you, treat you right, then we can come back here…and I can be far less gentlemanly” he said through kisses he laid against your neck and shoulder, making you giggle.

- “I’d like that” you whispered in reply as your lips found his once more, a smile donning your lips at the prospect of it.

- He could hardly wait, the guilt of knowing your body first and the rest of you later no longer ate at his conscience as you both were swept up in the moment again.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

- He was a frequent flier to medical more so now than he ever was before since meeting you, and you were the nurse he’d always see to help him.

- Hardly was he ever really there for anything super serious, a cut here, a gash there, an infection from something caught out in the field.

- He rarely ever enjoyed anyone fussing over him, in fact if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t even go to medical for his injuries, more of the type to tough it out with a bottle of whiskey and some pain pills to take the edge off.

- It was your soft touch on his arm as you stitched him up, the way you respected his privacy in not asking him to remove his mask anytime he was there, even the smell of your shampoo as you tended to a cut on his collarbone.

- You would always smile and shake your head, hands on your hip like a mom whose child got back from causing trouble when he would enter.

- “What’s it this time?” You’d ask before he’d show you, then tell you briefly and vaguely about how it happened and groan and complain that it happened at all.

- This time however was far more serious.

- You saw the blood seeping through his shirt, dripping as he walked, his hand clutched to the wound as he saw you, making you all but drop what you were doing.

- “Si? Oh my god, sit, sit! What the hell happened??” You asked, concern evident in your tone, something he’d never really gotten from others before.

- Did he just hear you call him Si? Oh the poor man was hooked without even knowing.

- “Just a bullet sweetheart, had thousands of ‘em fly my way, just unlucky enough this time t’ ‘ave one land” he said nonchalantly but you could tell by its placement that he was in pain.

- “You’ve been shot and you’re just walking in here as if it were nothing? Why didn’t you call me? I’d have come to you! Actually don’t answer that, I know you’re too stubborn and wouldn’t let me” you replied, making him chuckle.

- You had him lay down on his back, slicing open the shirt with a pair of scissors before tearing it so you could get to the wound quickly and with no obstructions.

- And that was the most attractive thing he swore he’d ever seen.

- “An’ here I thought you were suppose t’ take me out on a date before you rip my shirt off” he said dryly, wanting that look of worry and that tense stressed feeling to fall from you, making you laugh.

- “Fuck, well they didn’t teach us that in basics” you replied, making him chuckle as you laughed along with while getting him and your tools prepped.

- “Maybe that was my lucky shirt” he joked once more, making you roll your eyes with a playful grin but you were still worried about him.

- “We can mourn the shirt later, I’m more worried about the bullet inside of you and getting it out first” you added, making him grin beneath his mask as you blushed a little at the sight of him shirtless.

- “Practically skipped dates one through three at this point, seen me down t’ everything above the belt” he said, making you laugh again as you cleaned his wound and prepped your instruments to remove the bullet.

- “Well, maybe if you keep coming back for me to check on you and the progress of your stitches, then in say maybe…four weeks for proper healing, I’ll take you up on a proper date” you proposed, and he couldn’t lie, he liked the sounds of that.

- “Then, maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll skip the shirt and get below the belt finally too” you said, sending a grin and a wink his way, making him chuckle as the clang of the shell casing hit the metal bowl.

- “That means no more getting shot in that time though, or else you’ll have to wait even longer” you teased, making him chuckle again.

- “Fuckin’ torturin’ me luv. Makin’ me wait that long” he replied, making you giggle a little and you figured it was the morphine kicking in that let him be this open with you, not that he hadn’t been before but he was certainly more relaxed now.

- Would mumble compliments under his breath like “smell s’good luvie” “y’ look s’pretty like that” making your cheeks feel as if they were being light on fire and the smile never leaving your lips.

- Little did you know, he secretly would be counting down the days and had more of a reason not to get himself killed out in the field.

[valeriehalla]

I don’t know what to do about the internet. It’s getting worse, and getting worse faster than I think any of us ever could have imagined even just six years ago. Tumblr shot itself in the heart at the behest of Apple, at the behest of whichever nameless evangelical finance perverts are in charge of credit card policy, whereupon people like me (artists and people who like art) fled in droves to Twitter, the present state of which I don’t have it in me to be funny about.

Even after that one-two punch, Twitter and Tumblr are still the only (major) social media platforms I can stand to use. I mean, they’re the last ones left where you can, for example, see posts that your friends have made. I might have said that that seemed like the whole point of social media; every digital elsewhere has now collectively agreed that it is, in fact, social media’s greatest flaw. Your friends like to hang out and post weird jokes and titty drawings — they don’t know the first thing about your favorite marketing trends, let alone your unslakable thirst for 30-second phone videos. We have to move on: I’ll die if I think about it.

Uh — I wanna let you in a little. Here’s where I’m at, okay? I’m working on this project. I like it a lot: it’s a writing thing and an art thing and a music thing all at the same time. I’m still struggling with art burnout, but every day I get to sit down and write or compose for this thing is an unending delight, so on the balance it’s been great to work on. It’s taken me a while to get here, though — I’ve blown past all my estimates about when it’d be done. Still, it won’t be much longer.

In the mean time, I keep having these compulsive worries. I feel that I should be posting, but the nature of a long-form project like this is that I don’t have anything to post. I tweet complete nothings now and then, as if to announce my presence, like a lighthouse pulsing in the distance. And every week the websites get worse. They’re bleeding out, and it feels like some of my blood’s in there, maybe. Like, maybe you’d call me naïve, but it wasn’t that long ago that I really, really liked all this online stuff. I never had the hustle culture mindset about it: by good luck alone I managed to make a living posting the stuff I wanted to post on the places I wanted to post it.

The places I liked to post don’t exist anymore. My experience of using the internet feels hostile, alien. The ground beneath all our feet feels eggshell-thin.

But I have to use the internet: it’s where my stuff goes. It’s where all of you are. Here is where art and artists and art-likers live.

The things I love live here, in precarity, as the saw blades and lava traps of our digital dungeon grow every day more numerous.

Anyway, what I’m saying is that the web sucks now, but as long as we’re here — and we will be here — I want to try loving it again anyway. I want to untangle myself from all this disappointment and expectation and try simply “vibing” again. I wanna use cohost more: I’ll even crosspost stuff to Tumblr like I keep saying I should. I’m making a cool thing and I should show it off! I should relearn how to draw a little doodle and post it without feeling like it’s a suboptimal use of my time or whatever!! I want to believe in what joy may find us, though our world be a dumpster.