#oh look i overshared again what a fucking surprise

[multific]

Offering

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend and you break up before a mission.

Somehow, you knew, you could see it in his eyes.

Somehow, you knew, you could see it in his eyes.

It was your biggest fear and it became true.

He no longer loved you.

You should have noticed the signs, you should have seen it all coming.

Now that you recall, his touches were extremely different, he barely kissed you or even talked with you.

He didn't love you anymore and it shattered you.

Instead of letting him ramble on with this 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit, you simply stood up and left.

You had a mission in a couple of days anyway.

Taskforce 141 knew that their precious little flower had issues.

From the moment they saw you, they knew something was off.

Thankfully, during the mission, you were able to take your mind off of your ex.

Barely even thinking, you moved on instinct.

Currently, you were with Ghost, waiting for backup before heading into another fight.

Your target was inside a mansion and you two needed some backup before heading in.

"I didn't want to mention this, but I can see it is bothering you. Something happened, Daisy?"

You looked up into his eyes, it was weird to see him trying to be so professional while still calling you by your code name.

"I broke up with my boyfriend. We didn't exactly talk about it but I could see in his eyes he didn't love me anymore. So... yeah."

"He is a dumbass. You deserve a real man."

His honesty made you turn and look at him. You could only smile as he refused to meet your eyes. He knew he overshared. He should have just said 'sorry' and moved on, but he fucked up.

"A real man sounds about right. You know anyone?" he didn't say a word only shook his head, no. "That's sad. I was hoping you were offering," you smirked. "But oh well... Maybe Johnny would be open..."

"No." his reply came way too quickly. There was a couple minutes of silence between the two of you.

"Backup in 10 LT." came Johnny's voice over the radio.

"Copy." Ghost replied.

"You told me many times to leave him because he is not good enough for me. And here I am... I guess I'm more disappointed in myself for trying to believe that it could be real." you said as you let out a sigh.

"You did nothing wrong. He is an idiot."

"A gone idiot." you finished before the chopper arrived. Giving Ghost a smile.

You weren't sure if you were only imagining things.

You swore you could see something in his eyes, something soft and caring.

---

The mission was finished. The information had been obtained.

And you were only the lovely new owner of a shot wound on your arm.

The wound was now all bandaged up and you were ready to head back for some rest.

Ghost closely followed you as you were heading to your room.

"Y/N..." his voice came from behind you as you smiled and turned to face him. You two spent a good amount of time looking at one another before he spoke up again, his voice low.

"Maybe, I am offering." this made your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"A-are you?" your previous confidence seem to have died down as he took a couple of steps closer to you, eyes never leaving yours.

"I am." he said as his thumb came up to your bottom lip.

You two just stared at one another he moved you into your room as he kicked the door closed.

Using the darkness in the room to his advantage, his face was bare as he placed his lips on yours.

You didn't need to be told twice, you pulled him to the bed without another question or without breaking the kiss.

---

You woke up the next morning to a dull pain in your lower region and a hand on your waist.

Suddenly the reality of the situation hit you like a cold shower.

You had sex with your Lieutenant.

And it was amazing.

You were sure the two of you went on for hours and many rounds. He was an amazing lover, a giver but he also knew how and what to take from you.

You lost count of how many orgasms he gave you but you can recall that he always made your legs shake.

You enjoyed the night.

It was a good distraction from your fucked up life.

But now, that it was morning, you knew, this will all come to an end.

You felt him slightly move behind you as his breath hit your neck.

"I can hear you thinking, Daisy." using your code-name possibly wasn't the best idea he ever had.

You felt distanced from him again.

"You are overthinking." he said again and you wanted to laugh but couldn't. "This doesn't have to be any more than a night if you don't want it to be. I am now offering something more."

"You are not a relationship kind of guy, Simon."

"I could be." his reply came so fast, he made you believe it.

"So what? A secret relationship where you could come to my room and always have to look behind you trying to see if someone was looking?"

"I wanted you for long enough. I feel like I would agree to any conditions." this made you turn and look at him, searching his eyes for a lie which you never found.

You were doomed.

---

And now, you were fucked.

With a dislocated shoulder, a huge gash on your leg, you could barely stand.

Thank God you were sitting.

Sitting and bleeding out.

You let out a long sigh before you hit the radio.

"Guys, I'm not in good shape. My shoulder is fucked, I am bleeding rapidly. I managed to hide in a shop down the street but I feel like they will find me any moment. I'm running low on amo and-"

"Where are you? I'll get you." Simon's voice came over the radio.

"In the perfume store at the back, hiding behind the counter." you replied.

"Stay there, I'm almost there. Gaz, get the chopper. Johnny, how's he mission?"

"Almost got the maps, LT."

"Meet us at the meeting point Johnny." You soon heard the radio get silent as the door to the store opened, you tried to peak. "Y/N?"

"Here." you replied as Simon arrived by your side with a first aid kit.

"What happened?"

"Turned out, I can take guys like you not only in bed." you smirked but Simon didn't find it so funny. "I dislocated my shoulder and he cut my leg." you said with a more serious tone as he grabbed your leg and put a bandage on it, stopping the bleeding.

"I can put your shoulder back." he said and you knew, this is going to hurt.

When he grabbed your arm, you prepared for the worst.

It was a terrible feeling, feeling your shoulder pop right back as you let out a groan.

"Good girl." he said and if you weren't in such a pain, you for sure would have made a dirty comment.

Soon, the chopper arrived and after having a showdown with a couple guys, you were on your way back to the base.

At that point, you lost consciousness. The blood loss caught up to you.

"Daisy?" Johnny asked and you let out a noise. "Just making sure you are all good." he replied. "You made Lt rather worried today." Soap smirked as you let out another groan. Simon looked at Johnny with an angry expression.

"Let her sleep." he said as Johnny put two of his hands up in defence.

"Sorry, Lt." Simon moved to sit next to you, holding your hand, checking your pulse. "I always had a feeling you would be a protective kind of boyfriend." you opened your eyes to that, looking at Johnny. "What? You thought your room is sound proof?! Also, it's so clear that you two are dating. I'm just said you didn't tell me."

"Or me!" replied Gaz with a huff.

"How did you know?" asked Ghost.

"As I said the room is not sound proof and as quiet as you two are, we could hear the noises still. And you are not that sneaky, Lt."

"A big guy like you was basically a beacon walking into her room." said Gaz.

Simon let out a groan.

"Captain also knows. He knew before us actually. I believe he knew even before you two. He always said you two make a good team and it was only a matter of time." Gaz explained and you let out a shaky breath, squeezing Simon's hand.

"I told you to be quiet." he turned to you as you snapped your eyes at him.

"Quiet?! QUIET?! How the fuck am I supposed to be quiet?"

"You have so many pillows, you should have used one!"

"Well, excuse me! Mr 'Let me hear ya Doll'!" Both Johnny and Kyle laughed. "Are you guys... really okay with this? With me and Simon?" you asked with a rather shaky breath.

"Of course! More than okay actually. I always said that Lt needed some lovin'. Captain asked us to see if it will affect the missions. And it did, but in a good way." Johnny nodded as soon you would arrive back to base.

"Thank you." you and Simon said in unison as you landed.

Nurses barged in to get you to the medbay as soon as possible.

Simon could only watch as you were taken away.

Johnny and Kyle both patted him on the back before leaving.

Price arrived soon after.

Simon was sitting in the medbay, waiting to be let in so he could see you. This is when the captain sat down next to him.

"You two could have told us."

"We were afraid we would be separated or discharged."

"I would never do that. Sure the others don't have to know, but as a team, we are responsible for each other." Simon nodded at Price.

"Thank you."

"There is nothing to thank. Let's have a drink once she is better." Just as John said that, a nurse came to inform that Simon could go in.

He sat down in the chair next to you, holding your hand.

You two really thought you were secretive enough.

But you were okay with the others knowing. At least in front of them, you didn't have to pretend anymore.

Simon leaned over to give you a kiss on the forehead.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[thedroneranger]

Vibe Check

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Précis: Bob walks in on you in a compromising position, and things take a turn...

Note: Naturally, my first foray with Bob furthers the Bob Fucks agenda. I will not be taking questions. The man fucks. periodt. 😘 🖤

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit.

Word count: 2.3k

Carrier life was boring, and the entertainment came bootleg. Most nights, you and your fellow aviators took it upon yourselves to overshare personal information to pass the time. 

But some nights you made sure your bunkmate wasn't returning any time soon, you tucked yourself into your bed, pulled out the vibrator you managed to sneak into your belongings and pleasured yourself. 

Thankfully, your roommate Natasha tended to spend her evenings attached at the hip to her best friend, Bradley Bradshaw, who was also on this deployment. You’d catch Nat coming into your quarters in the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes you weren’t sure if she’d been sharing a flask with Bradley or getting busy with some ensign she had set her sights on. Either way, you had plenty of time to thumb through your favorite porn site, pick something that piqued your interest and rub one out.

However, tonight was different.

The cabin was extra warm. Warm enough, you ditched your blankets at the foot of your bed and only wore your two-sizes-too-big Academy t-shirt. Eyes shut, caught up in the sloppy licking and high-pitched moans seeping into your earbuds, rolling your hips into your suction vibrator as it easily slid along the length of your throbbing clit thanks to your arousal, you never heard your cabin door creak open. You never heard Bob Floyd’s calls for Natasha.

Bob never expected to enter your cabin, calling for his pilot, to find you on your bunk, legs butterflied with your hand pressing a suction vibrator over your clit, moving with the same precision you used to fly your jet. He never fathomed how turned on he would be seeing you masturbate. 

Stunned, mouth agape, he continued to watch. Momentarily gaining some wit, Bob stepped fully into the cabin and pulled the door shut. He couldn’t let anyone else see you like this. He didn’t want anyone else to see you like this—just him. 

Blissfully unaware, your hips rolled quicker and your breath hitched sooner as you crept closer to climax.  

Bob’s eyes grew wider and his pants grew tighter.

Your back arched and your eyes popped open as you peaked. You looked directly into Bob’s blown pupils. Your mouth dropped open more in pleasure than surprise, but your movements never ceased. Bob never looked away. The smallest noise escaped your lips when you felt yourself clenching around nothing, your toes curling. 

“Oh, my…” Bob said only to himself since you were wearing earbuds with lewd noises still filling your canals.

Coming down and taking a deep breath, you closed your legs, zipping them together and sliding them so they were flat against the mattress. As you composed yourself, reality set in. You pushed yourself into a sitting position and removed your earbuds.

“Floyd, what are you doing?” Your voice was soft, still high on oxytocin. 

Bob was dumbfounded. Too flustered to answer. His mouth was still open, his cheeks flushed and he shifted his weight from one foot to another, hoping his semi wasn’t overly noticeable. 

“I-I-I’m looking for Natasha.” He stood as tall as he could, adjusted his glasses and swallowed hard. 

Now sitting with your knees pulled to your chest, arms looped over your shins, you stared at him innocently. “She’s with Bradshaw or chasing down some poor ensign.” You rested your chin on your knees as you looked at Bob through your eyelashes.

He gulped again. You were in a playful mood. Your bottom lip rolled between your teeth before you spoke. “What’s got you so flustered, Bobby?” Bob’s mouth fell into a shocked O as his eyes grew bigger, which didn’t seem possible. Hiding your mouth behind your arms, you stifled a laugh.

“Do you want to try it?” Your fingers flitted over your bedding until you found your abandoned vibrator. Innocently, you held it in Bob’s direction. “I’d be happy to assist.”

What you were offering wasn’t shocking. Over the years, you and Bob had this unspoken push-pull. Every time you pushed the boundaries with an innuendo or suggestive comment, Bob would pull back, feigning embarrassment. To anyone else, it was innocent. No one expected Bob to retort in a flirty cat-and-mouse game.

But you knew. 

And you wanted Bob so fucking bad.

And now, standing before you, wide-eyed, having just watched you masturbate to completion, Bob confirmed he wanted you too.

Silently, he floated over to the bed. You laid back, supporting yourself on your elbows and keeping your legs pressed together, watching Bob over top your knees. 

He sank down in front of you, grazing his fingers from your kneecaps to your ankles. Your breath hitched as he looked at you through his thick lenses. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. 

Awestruck, you nodded your permission. His soft lips ghosted your kneecap before firmly planting against the top of your shin. He peppered your legs with kisses and encouraged you to open them. 

As your legs fell wide, Bob’s mouth trailed up one of your thighs, leaving wet kisses. The closer to your heat Bob came, the further back you laid. Your eyes remained on him the entire time. 

Bob had a forearm across your abdomen, pressing you to the bed, and his smooth cheek laid against the soft inside of your thigh. He was looking at you, his warm breath splashing across where you wanted him most. “Can I kiss you?” he asked again. 

A smile graced your features, as you threw your head back. “Fuck, Bobby! You can do whatever you want as long as you put your mouth on me!” you cried, bringing your head forward to look at him. 

“As you wish, darlin’.” Bob turned his head and nipped the pristine skin of your thigh. You yelped as he then laved over it with his tongue. The tip of his tongue grazed the nearest lip and a shiver shot through you. 

Gently, he sucked it between his lips, gently squeezing and running his tongue along it. He repeated the same motions on the other one. You tossed your head back as his broad tongue wiped across both lips and your swollen clit. Bob rotated, sucking on each. Entranced by his rhythm, your head fell further back. 

While you weren’t looking, Bob snagged your vibrator and gently placed it against your pubic mound. Immediately, your head snapped in his direction. Before you could say anything, he slipped the sucker over the head of your clit and shoved two fingers into you. Thank goodness your breath hitched, otherwise the entire carrier would’ve heard you. 

You also wanted to immediately close your legs, but Bob’s entire frame was between them. “It’s ok, darlin’, I enjoy hugs.” The smirk on his face and the pulse of the toy had you clenching around his fingers. A breathy sound fell from your lips, and Bob’s fingers continued to languidly curl against that spot that made you see stars. 

“That’s it, darlin’.” Bob worshiped your thighs as he continued to work you with his fingers and your vibrator. Your breath shortened, your back arched and your eyes squeezed shut as the band in your belly snapped. A warm relief washed over your entire body—muscles untensing, your lungs deflating.

Bob removed the vibrator, but stayed between your legs, slowly pumping his digits. As you came down, Bob slipped his fingers out and sprinkled kisses around your thighs and abdomen. 

While he explored your curves, you brought his hand to your mouth, pushing his fingers past your lips. Swirling your tongue around each digit, you relished the taste of yourself. An unsolicited moan escaped you as you sucked on his fingers. “Darlin’, I can think of somewhere else you could put those skills to use.” Bob used his tongue to tease your cleft.

“C’mere.” You tucked two fingers in the front of Bob’s khaki service button-up and pulled him toward you until your lips met. As Bob’s body covered yours, you slid your fingers down the front of his shirt, forcing the buttons from their holes. His khaki shirt hung open as he pressed his hard-on against your naked core. You pulled his t-shirt from his waistband, and then made quick work of his belt and pants. 

It wasn’t long until Bob’s pants were pushed just below his ass as he pumped into you. “Bobby,” you sighed as your hand gingerly rested on his neck. You wanted so badly to run your hand through his hair, but you wanted him to be able to leave the room with his reputation intact. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spied your vibrator. A smile graced your features as you reached for it. Bob was too focused on his own pleasure to notice. Dual-ended, you clicked on the wand end. 

As not to startle him, you first feathered it along his exposed abdominals. He shuttered but never faltered as he continued to snap his hips. Bob kept eye contact as you teased parts of him closer and closer to his cock. Finally, you reached the base of his length, and then continued onto his balls. 

Almost instantly, he groaned, his hips stuttered and you knew he was going to come. “Stand up,” you told him, using a hand to nudge him back. He obeyed, keeping his gaze on you as you moved to your knees on the edge of bed. 

Using his hand, he pumped himself as you switched positions. Ready for him to cum in your mouth, you took over and massaged him until your name slipped from his lips. You looked up at him through your lashes, as your plush lips surrounded his pink tip. 

A soft “fuck” left his mouth as he tensed and his tip convulsed, spilling his seed into your mouth. You took it all, swirling the saltiness around before you opened to show him. Then you swallowed and opened your mouth again, sticking out your tongue.

“That was hot.” Bob dropped to his knees so you were more eye level. You pressed your lips to his, and he allowed your tongue into his mouth so he could taste himself. He hummed as his hand wrapped around the back of your neck so you couldn’t get away. 

“Bobby,” you sighed as you parted. “I can’t believe that didn't happen sooner.”

His smirk returned. “Timing is everything, darlin’.” You smiled at each other, and you gave him another peck on the lips. He peeked down at his watch. “Speaking of, I should get out of here before Natasha makes an appearance.”

Leaning back on the bed, you spread your legs before him. Bob stared directly at your still glistening lower lips. He pressed a final kiss between your legs before he stood to his full height. Not expecting that, you giggled. “A good night kiss for a pretty pussy.”

Your mouth was agape hearing him say pussy—you wanted to hear it again. 

Quickly, he pulled his pants back up and tucked in his shirt. Bob cursed under his breath as he buttoned his shirt. You cocked your head waiting for him to explain. “I’m missing a button.”

You smiled and stood to help him. In a matter of minutes you had taken the lowest button, which would be tucked in his pants, and stitched it in place of the missing one. Standing in front of him, you smoothed his shirt and straightened his collar. “No one will ever know,” you confirmed. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Thank you.” You really wanted to tackled him into your bed and fuck him again, but you kept yourself in check. 

“Anything for you, Bobby.” Your response was calculated and he knew it. Just as he was considering pushing you onto the bed for another round, the door flung open. 

Natasha’s expression changed to surprise. “Bob!” She tossed her hands up and slipped into the room. Clearly, Nat was riding a great buzz. “What’re you doing here?” Curiosity came into her tone. 

Bob’s signature crooked smile appeared. “I was looking for you to help with a button, but instead I stumbled upon your roommate. She saved the day.” 

“Ahh, yes!” Natasha walked toward her bunk. “We would’ve enlisted her help anyway. She sews all my buttons and tears.” 

“Good to know.” Bob eyed you as he spoke. “See you both in the mess hall for breakfast?” He walked toward the door. 

“Yes! Good night, Bob!” Natasha gleefully said. 

“Good night.” Your voice had a sing-song quality to it. Bob winked so only you could see. 

“G’night!” He pulled the door shut behind him. 

Nat barely managed to change before falling into bed. You slipped under your blankets. The next morning, you were up well before Nat to shower and take care of the remnants of last night’s deeds. 

By the time she woke, your bed was made and you were in the mess hall with Bob sipping coffee. As she got ready, she noticed something on the floor—a button. Nat picked it up and realized it was from a uniform. Then it dawned on her. 

A smirk carved her lips as she finished getting ready. It stayed as she walked down the hall and entered the mess. You saw her and waved to signal where you and Bob sat. 

She barely acknowledged you as she strode over. Her gaze was locked on Bob as she said his name. Her voice was curt but bore no malice. They exchanged looks. Then, Natasha put two fingers on the table and slid something in front of Bob. 

You both waited to see whatever tiny object was under her fingertips. Her hand pulled back and there lay Bob’s shirt button. Both you and Bob did your best to remain stoic.

“Figured this might be yours.” She paused, eyes boring into Bob’s. “Curious, that it’s in our room…” Natasha trailed off as she turned to head toward the food line.

Just the two of you, you and Bob exchanged looks. Putting your coffee cup to your lips, you shrugged as you sipped. “At least she passed the vibe check.” Bob chuckled and sipped his coffee.

Thanks for reading! Wanna read more? Visit my masterlist! | Sign up for my taglist!

The Baddie™ Bunch (my taglist): @cherrycola27, @taytaylala12, @malindacath, @violyn20

[munasavedtheworld]

MUNA & Young Artist Reader

How You Met

After releasing your debut EP, your music went viral on social media, causing your streams to shoot up from the twenties to millions. For a 18 year old independent artist creating music out of your college dorm, you literally hit the jackpot.

Shortly after, you decided to extend your EP into a full album, which was met with critical acclaim and even more popularity. 

Just when you thought your hype had died down, you received an offer from none other than Taylor Swift to open for her upcoming tour, The Eras Tour. She had listened to your album, and loved it. 

Now here you were, your first night as an opener, standing backstage.

You waited nervously backstage, still about 10 minutes out from your performance. You could see the packed stadium and could feel your heart beating out of your chest. It felt like both a nightmare and dream that your first ever gig outside of your dorm room was a literal NFL stadium, packed with people.

Without noticing it, you had started to slightly rock back and forth on your feet, mumbling the lyrics to your songs, just in case you forgot them. As you focused on the audience, feeling like you were going to throw up, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You whipped around, a look of fear on your face, spotting a person with short black hair, smiling at you. 

“Hey, I’m Josette! You’re the other opener, right?” She introduced herself, holding her hand out for you to shake. You shook their hand nervously, barely able to introduce yourself.

“Sorry, yes, I’m Y/n.” You managed to get out, causing them to smile again. 

“Nervous?” They asked, even though they had already been watching you practically having a nervous breakdown from a distance. 

“Very. I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You admitted, not sure why you were oversharing to a person you just met. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“It’s ok,” They laughed, “You’re very apologetic.”

“Sorry.” You responded again, putting your hand over your mouth when you realized you had apologized again. 

“Katie, Naomi! Come here!” Josette turned around, hollering to two people standing on the other side of the stage, their heads turning when they heard their names.

When they had all migrated towards you, you suddenly felt very short compared to them.

“Hi, I’m Katie."

“And I’m Naomi.” They both introduced, shaking your hand, which was practically shaking from nerves. 

“I’m Y/n.” You repeated, pushing through the pure nausea you were feeling.

“We listened to your album. Great stuff.” Naomi smiled, noticing your crossed arms and nervous posture. 

“Oh, wow, thank you!” You replied. “Same goes for you guys. I love your music.”

“Oh, well thank you. I heard you self produced the whole album.”

“Yeah, it was kind of a pipe dream turned reality.” You admitted. “I recorded the whole thing in my dorm.”

“Are you in college?” Josette asked.

“Yeah, I go to USC.”

“No fucking way! We all went there.” Katie gasped, pointing to the group. 

“Oh my god, that’s so cool.” You laughed.

“So are you like a senior? Junior?"

“Freshman.” 

“Woah, what? How old are you?” Naomi scrunched their eyebrows in surprise.

“18.”

“Damn, you’re making me feel really old.” Katie sighed, causing you to giggle in response. 

“I feel like you should have like a chaperone or something.” Josette joked, making you smile. Without even knowing it, they had significantly eased your panicking mind. 

“You’re on, kid.” A stage manager tapped you on the shoulder, making the dread immediately re enter your body.

“Hey, don’t freak out. Good thing about opening is by the end of the night, most people will have forgotten about you.” Josette shrugged. “In a good way.”

You nodded, finding the fact people would forget you comforting. 

“Thank you.” You responded, nervously twisting your hands around your microphone. 

“Wait, monitors!” Katie noticed the monitors hanging on your shoulders, helping you put the monitors into your ears for you, which you thought was sweet. 

“Thank you!” You breathed nervously, waving to them as you ran out on stage, immediately met with cheers and screams. You grabbed your guitar, slinging it over your shoulder as you spoke into the mic, “How are we feeling tonight Cincinnati! I’m Y/n Y/l/n, and is it alright if I play a couple songs for you guys?”

You were met with loud cheers, making you grin ear to ear. 

All three of them watched from backstage, highly impressed by how you managed to captivate the audience, completely engaging them from the start of your set until the moment you left the stage. 

You finished off your set with your biggest hit, running off stage as the outro played. Your entire set had gone so well, and everything was perfect, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that you had no one to celebrate it with. You looked around, a slight frown on your face until you saw Katie, Naomi, and Josette walking over to you, cheering and clapping jokingly. 

Your face lit up, which made their hearts melt as they saw the change in your demeanor. 

“You killed it!” Josette high fived you, handing you a water bottle.

"You watched?" You smiled, wiping the sweat off of your forehead with a towel.

"Of course we did." Naomi nodded.

“I can’t believe that was your first time on a stage.” Katie shook her head, smiling at you. They all felt like they were witnessing the start of something big. “You’re gonna be selling out stadiums like this pretty soon.”

“Yeah, right.” You laughed, glad you had some people to talk to now. Tour life was hard, and doing it alone was next to impossible. 

You had stayed backstage, watching their set, definitely not singing all of the lyrics to all of their songs and cheering obnoxiously.

When they had finished up their set, you were there for them this time, cheering and handing them water bottles in return for earlier. 

After the final show in Cincinnati, you were about to head back towards your hotel when Katie called your name.

“Y/n!” She yelled from afar, waving when you turned around to look for the source. You waved back with a smile, walking over to her.

“Hey Katie, what’s up?”

“A bunch of us are going to go get food somewhere and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with.”

“I would love to!”

When you guys got to the restaurant, you met the rest of their band, who all seemed super nice. 

Naomi offered to buy you a beer, which you laughed, turning down. 

“I would say yes, but unfortunately I’m not old enough.” 

“Oh shit, I forgot.” They laughed, continuing to relentlessly tease you the rest of the night, asking where your parents were and if you were up past your bedtime. 

“You know I wonder if they have a senior citizen discount here.” You shot back, causing them all to laugh, glad you were warming up a little. 

The more you hung around them, the more comfortable you were on tour and the more fun you had. 

On both of your last shows, they invited you out on stage to sing the verse in Silk Chiffon, which was basically a dream come true. 

Before you guys headed your own ways, they all came up to you, looking almost nervous. It kind of freaked you out.

“Hi?” You scrunched your eyebrows, worried at the mixed looks on their faces.

“Hey, we had a question for you, and you can totally say no, but we figured we might as well ask.” Josette started, practically word vomiting.

“Go for it.” You shrugged, still confused.

“Ok, well we’re about to go on our European leg of our tour, and we don’t have an opener. We were wondering if you might want to open for us.” They continued, causing your eyes to go wide. You stood in silence for a second, making them all nervous. 

“You can say no-”

“Yes!” You interrupted, beaming. 

“Seriously?”

“I would love to.” You smiled, causing them to sigh in relief.

[beyondthegame]

“You′re the sweetest I've ever tasted” or “I will love you without any strings attached” for e please? thank you <33

E’s day has been going terribly.

They forgot to go shopping and ran out of eggs this morning. Spilled tea over their notebook which caused a string of curse words to fall from their lips. Had a mini argument with their mum over the phone. Read a damaging story about them in the press, which has all been accompanied by writer’s block.

Alongside the fact that you haven’t replied to their last text, which wouldn’t be an issue if everything else hadn’t been going wrong.

E lets out a heavy sigh before running a hand across their face. They could do with a break, it would probably reset them for the better.

“Oh, fuck it.”

Mind made up, E reaches over the coffee table, picks up their phone, checks the screen and slips it into their pocket.

Their shoes are on next, and as they walk past the full length mirror in their wide hallway, E’s immediate thought is ‘I look like shit’ but they’re not going to see anyone (fingers crossed!) so it’s fine.

E loops their keys around their fingers and pulls open the door. The sight outside their door would usually bring a smile to their face, a witty, flirtatious comment after that, but they’re honestly surprised to see you.

“Hi,” they blurt out, lacking their regular self-confidence.

“Hello,” you murmur, a slight smile on your own lips as your eyes scan E quickly—and whilst they’re hating how unkempt they’re looking at the moment, you’re actually a fan of them looking comfortable in sweats and sliders. “Going somewhere?”

E points down the hallway. “Um, the bookstore, yeah.”

“Hm, want some company?”

E doesn’t hesitate. They give a causal nod and for once today, they can smile. “I’d like that.”

—

“You were coming to see me, then?” E eventually asks when you’re side by side and halfway down the street. “That’s why you were outside my door?”

You smirk. “No, it’s just normal for me to find out where celebrities live and just stand there,” you utter sarcastically.

“Ah, of course, you’re in your stalker era,” E murmurs, continuing the joke as you both turn a corner.

“I would’ve replied to your text if I was stalker,” you shoot back, only to receive a side eye from the musician.

“That’s a fucking low blow.”

You chuckle at the pout on their lips, silently claiming victory. “My phone died, and then I had training,” you admit, realising that you’re outside the entrance to the little bookstore. “Thankfully it did or I wouldn’t be here with you.”

E pulls open the door and takes a step back, allowing you to go in first as the bell above the door chimes. “Little victories for us,” they murmur as they go in after you.

It’s only a few minutes of walking around until E’s settled. They look less stressed, the tension has fallen from their shoulders, and they’re happily picking up books and reading the blurbs with a creased brow—debating whether to buy the literature or not.

“Do you come in here for anything particular?” you question, your eyes scanning over rows and rows of shelves, seeing as other customers get lost in between them.

E shakes their head. “No, not really. I mean, obviously it’s nice leaving with books, but just being here is…comforting. It gets me out my mind a bit.”

They’ve overshared. They can tell, E’s internally squirming at the anxious thought whilst you’re standing here happy to listen to their detailed answer.

They wet their lips. “I don’t…this doesn’t really happen with me and other people,” E rambles.

“What?”

“Being here, sharing personal stuff,” E answers.

You blink. “What’s it usually like with people you end up fancying?”

E thinks for a moment, plucks a book off the shelf and flicks through its pages. “It’s usually, ‘I’m famous, we find each other attractive, we fuck, and I may hear from them again, most likely not’ and that’s it.”

You nod a little. “Okay. What about you and me then?”

E returns the book to the shelf before turning towards you. “Uh, well, you and I haven’t had sex.”

“No, I know,” you say, “but you said that’s how it usually happens. What makes me different?” you question. “I mean, you do fancy me.”

E snorts. “Do you reckon?”

You smirk. “Well, you have mentioned it once…and from what I recall you hadn’t had a sip of alcohol, so I’m guessing it wasn’t a drunken mistake.”

The two of you are walking to another bookshelf, in sync almost. “Maybe a sober one?” they joke.

Your gaze snaps towards them, only to find a broad grin over their lips and their dark green/hazel eyes shimmering.

“No, it wasn’t a mistake,” E utters. “I don’t know, I suppose I just didn’t think anything romantic would between us. Or we’d only be friends and nothing more. Or, you wouldn’t like me back,” they trail off. “The list is endless. I have always found you attractive, if that helps.”

You laugh. “That does help.” You pause. “I do.”

“Hm?”

“I do like you back,” you say, your voice a little stronger as E absorbs the words and smiles at them.

“I did gather,” they utter. “But it’s nice to hear those words on a bad day.”

You think for a moment. This should be the hard part out the way, admitting feelings to each other, yet it still feels like there’s another hurdle to get over.

“So where does that leave us?” you ask.

“Hm,” E hums. “When I said you’re different, I meant it. We know how the other feels now so maybe we’re attached and tangled up in strings now, or maybe its knots.”

The books are a little forgotten because you’re in front of E now, and whilst they’ve said all this in a somewhat confident persona they’re nervous as hell.

They’ve thought what it’d be like to kiss you, date you, be in an actual relationship with you that doesn’t have them questioning whether they’re enough.

Definitely knots.

“I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic so it means I should ask you out on a date and admit that I’ve thought about kissing you at least once,” E says.

The corners of your lips twitch upwards. “Only once?”

“Don’t let it stroke your ego.”

“Oh, it already has,” you laugh. “Are you going to?”

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

E blinks. “You want me to?”

“I really want you to.”

Funnily enough, it’s common thought that E’s been with and fallen in love with many people. Additionally, it’s extremely far from the truth, so they find all of this nerve wracking: the stepping forward, the hand on your cheek, their thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“You still want me to kiss you?” E asks, their lips close to brushing yours, yet needing extra confirmation.

“Of course I do,” you whisper. “We’re in knots, aren’t we?”

And they do. E’s flutter closed, their lips fall against yours and it’s gentle and sweet. Everything they had imagined and more.

[fict1onallyobsessed]

hii! i was wondering if you could do a rhea x fem!reader smut but make rhea be the sub/bottom? if you do it, thank you!!

He’s Shit in Bed

Rhea Ripley x Reader 18+

Rhea has some bitch of a bf in this bc I feel bad using Buddy

Warnings: Cheating (not on reader) // kitchen sex // fingering // squirting // Rhea being a bottom // flustered Rhea <3

“So how is he?” You asked out of respect, though you had absolutely none for Rhea’s boyfriend. You turned your head to the side, leaning your back against the kitchen counter so you could see her face. In turn, she was leaning against the counter with her arms, scoffing a little when you made eye contact with her. “What?”

She shook her head, looking down as if she was embarrassed. The blush on her cheeks said it was good, but her expression didn’t. Your brows furrowed as she avoided the question, still looking anywhere but you.

You pushed your body up on the counter, moving a little so you were in front of her and she was standing between your legs. She seemed so much shyer than before, the way her cheeks reddened sent confusing signals through you.

“Is he like really bad at sex, or something?” You were attempting to lighten tho mood, but the ways Rhea’s head slowly looked up at you made your eye widen. “Oh my God. How long have you been together.”

“Five months.”

“So you’ve not-?”

She only shook her head and scoffed again, embarrassment flooding her body. She’s not cum in five whole months. She didn’t mean to overshare, but it was with you, the person she trusted most, so it was completely safe. Even though she was embarrassed beyond measure, she felt comfortable while you stared at her with a little smile on your lips.

“That’s embarrassing for him, not for you.” You grabbed her jaw to make her look at you, her eyes finally landing on yours as you spoke. Even though she could have, she didn’t look away once your hand was off her jaw, she kept looking at you with something in her eyes you couldn’t quite place…yet.

“I can help you.” You whispered, leaning a little towards her when she didn’t shy away. She only now realised how close you two were, lips almost touching while your breath mixed in with her overly heavy one. You lifted your hand to slowly grip her neck, gently squeezing to see her reaction.

You smirked when she closed her eyes, legs squeezing together as much as she could while she was standing up. All doubts left her mind once you pulled her head towards your own lips, the kiss staring slowly before she decided to speed it up. The agony she was feeling between her legs from not finishing in 5 months was torture, and she wanted her release as soon as she could.

“Please.” She whispered against your mouth, hips already bucking in need. Your free hand ran down her clothed chest until it was at the hem of her shorts, your eyes looking at her for any sign of disapproval. Once you saw none, your hand slipped into her underwear, immediately circling her swollen clit with your fingers. Her face twisted in pleasure, eyes still forcing to look at you while your hand was gripping her neck.

You barely touched her and you already felt she was close. You weren't surprised though, not being touched for so long left that sort of effect on your body. Plus, she looked to pretty trying to hold moans in from you. You felt her skin flush, blush burning at your fingers that held her face close to yours. Her hands held onto your thighs for stability, nails digging into your skin as the pleasure got too much.

"Wait-" She panted, feeling as you sped up your circles on her clit. "I'm gonna-"

She felt bad, and to an extent embarrassed that she would cum so quickly, but with the way you were touching her, leaving small kisses on the corner of her lips, squeezing her neck just right, it felt so fucking good. Feeling herself clench around nothing, she moaned out freely, and what made it better was that she moaned out your name.

"Cum for me, pretty girl." You brought her face closer, enough so she could place her head on your shoulder and for you to whisper in her ear. "Does that feel good, huh? Let me hear you, Rhea. Let those pretty sounds out for me so I can hear how good I make you feel."

Neither she or you knew whether it was your words or how sexually deprived she was, but without warning the coil in her stomach snapped, making her automatically close her legs as her orgasm flowed through her body. You worked her through her high, mainly hyped up by the moan she released into your ear, even though her legs were partially in the way with the way they closed.

You tried to pull her away from your body, but her arms wrapped around your waist and didn't let go. It wasn't until you felt the excessive wetness on your fingers that you realised what was stopping her from looking at you. Wetness that wasn't soaked in by her shorts covered her thighs, and that's why she ended up closing them, embarrassment for a completely different reason making her skin flush all over again.

"Look at me."

She just shook her head against your shoulder. She seemed adamant and you had an idea, so you slid off the counter while she was still holding onto you, pressing your fingers into her directly, your palm rubbing against her overly sensitive clit once again. That made her stand up straight, hands still on you for support when her knees buckled but her legs spread once again, the pleasure returning to her body.

“That’s it, baby. Look at me.”

You primarily wanted to make her feel good, and you were doing just that. But some curious part of you wanted to know whether it was your words that pushed her that extra mile, to know if you could make her squirt again. She did as you said, connecting your lips momentarily before she had to pull away for air again.

“(Y/N), please.” She whined. “Make me cum again, please, please.”

She held onto you for support as you thrusted in and out of her, nipping at her exposed skin and watching as her face contorted in pleasure.

“Good girl. Tell me exactly how you want, love, I’ll do anything you want.”

Her hips bucked with the rhythm of your fingers, the only sounds in the room being her begs and your fingers moving in and out of her. She opened her half lidded eyes to look down at you, seeing your little smirk before you squeezed her neck again. You asked what she wanted again, watching as she tried to form words in her head.

“Faster.” You barely heard it, but complied and smirked regardless. “F-fuck.”

“You like that? You gonna cum all over my fingers again?” You curled your fingers more, watching as her mouth opened up in a silent scream before her nails were clawing at your shoulders. “Taking it so well for me. You sound so pretty, baby.”

It was just like last time, no warning whatsoever. She was clenching around your fingers, her juices covering your hand and her thighs once again. You watched as she broke, tears now rolling down her cheeks as you worked her through her orgasm, breathing uneven, mind clouded, focusing on your words.

She felt embarrassed all over again but you reassured her she was okay, making sure to take care of her from then on. You pulled away enough to see her and cup her jaw with your free hand, wiping the tears off her cheeks before running your hand through her hair trying to get it out of her face.

“You okay?”

She only nodded, leaning down to peck your lips a few times before hugging your close.

“Thank you.”

THE END

[bellysoupset]

Oh my gosh that story with Jonah and Leo was SO GOOD - would you ever consider a part 2 with Leo and Jonah talking about what he was saying???

- 💋

You guys really should stop indulging my angsty self. We'll end up killing this boy.

This is a continuation of this fic: Feverish Leo has a nightmare and overshares his past with Jonah. - Which happened before Sicily!

Warning for the f- slur and mentions of past child abuse, thread carefully.

---------

JD let out a pitiful meow as Leo stopped her from escaping and squeezed her to his chest, kissing the top of her head. Jon snorted, noticing the cat staring at him, as if begging him to help her run away.

"Sorry, little miss, I guess you're stuck," he whispered darkly, crawling back in the bed with a bottle of Gatorade, "bottom's up, Leo."

The blonde coughed weakly against his fist and took the bottle from him, taking a small sip and grimacing when it hit his irritated throat. He gulped down a couple more sips then handed Jonah the bottle back, slumping against the pillows and letting out a soft burp.

JD burrowed against his stomach, starting to make biscuits and Leo opened a smile, running a shaky hand over her fur, "her belly rubs are better than yours."

"Yeah but hers don't come with a get-well-soon blowjob," Jonah deadpanned, rolling his eyes and moving closer so he could push a strand of hair out of Leo's eyes. His hair was much longer than usual and Jon loved it, he knew Leo wasn't cutting it entirely for his benefit too.

"What exactly did I tell you last night?" Leo sighed, turning slightly so he could meet Jon's worried eyes, "you have that freaked out look on your face."

Jonah cringed. He thought he had his usual bitch face on, but clearly Leo was getting better at reading him.

"Not too much," he reassured him, fiddling with a strand of golden hair, "don't worry-"

"I'm not worried," Leo shrugged, sounding exhausted. His voice was basically gone, he had spent the better part of the night coughing, once the fever broke, "I don't mind you knowing, Jon."

Jonah sighed, pulling his hand back, "you thought you were back home... And I think you thought I was your dad? You kept saying you'd stay out of my way and behave, so if you could stay home instead of going to school..."

"Sounds very on brand with dad," Leo snorted, without any humor, "he hated when I stayed home instead of going to school."

"Even sick?"

"Especially sick," Leo scoffed, "and give him my germs? Please."

Jonah bit on his lip, angrily munching over the words he wanted to call the man, "your father was a piece of work."

Leo let out a chuckle and slid down the bed just a little bit, continuing to pet JD, "he was complicated."

Jon didn't think there was anything complicated about the man being a cunt. He trailed a hand over Leo's arm, up and down, "did he... Did he abuse you?" the words were whispered, he couldn't bring himself to say them out loud, "I- I asked you to remove your shirt and you freaked out..."

Leo flinched, then opened and closed his mouth twice before saying, "no, he didn't," he wasn't lying, but it wasn't all of it. Still, he shut his mouth and avoided Jonah's gaze, focusing on their kitten who was playfully rolling onto her back on his stomach, little spotted belly open for him to rub.

"Leo?"

"He was just..." he shrugged, "he was weird and he scared me. He fucking terrified me," Leo looked up, "I don't know if it was some form of homophobia, because he always knew I was gay, he made it very fucking clear he knew it with the name calling, but he just... I didn't like undressing around him. Or being near him, to be quite honest. But he didn't abuse me like that."

"Like that?" Jonah repeated, voice a whip. He had never felt so heartbroken or murderous.

Leo shrugged again, "well, there was the name calling. You'd the surprised how many slurs there are other than faggot," he smiled without any happiness, tickling JD's belly, "then there was the beatings. It didn't happen often, only when he was really wasted, but towards the end..." he shuddered and Jonah moved away from the bed, getting up.

He couldn't sit still, too angry, and Leo looked up, concerned.

"Jon?"

"I'm fine," he waved him off, pacing the room, "...Was he like that before your mom left?"

Leo frowned, confused "I don't know, baby, I don't really remember anything from back then. I was too young and trauma..." he touched his temple lightly, "kinda fucks with your memory. My whole childhood is a little bit of a blur."

Jonah ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the tight curls' roots, "when- When did she leave again?"

"I was ten," Leo answered and then the next question Jon was going to ask, "and seventeen when he passed away."

"Suicide, right?" Jon sat back down, near his knee and JD meowed, jumping to his lap. Leo nodded, quietly seeming to be thinking over everything.

"Hung himself in the living room," he said in a hesitant voice, clearly scared he was freaking Jonah even more.

Jon squeezed their cat, causing her to meow and try to bite his fingers "that's why..." his mouth was dry, "another day, you mentioned a fan... That's why...?"

"Yeah," Leo shuddered and curled up on his side since JD was no longer sitting on him, watching Jon, "what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I hate him," Jonah answered honestly, "and I hate the fact that you still have all these scars, I wish - I know it's silly, but I wish I had met you earlier, I wish I could've helped."

Leo smiled sadly, "I wish I had met you earlier too, babe," he sighed, coughing again, "I don't hate him... I'm pretty sure he had the same chronic depression I have-"

"Being depressed doesn't cause people to abuse little kids, Leo," Jon said sternly, "sucks for him, but this justifies nothing."

Leo nodded, wincing "yeah, I know... But I can't help thinking it if he wasn't so severely depressed, things would've been different. He wouldn't have drunk all the time, for starters."

"He'd still be a fucking asshole," Jonah scoffed, leaning in and planting a kiss on his boyfriend's forehead, lingering there, "I'm happy you moved here and that... And that we found each other... And that you told me all that."

Leo melted under the kiss, tugging on his sweater and causing Jonah to crumple on him into an awkward hug. JD let out a yelp and jumped away from between them, offended.

"Doesn't this scare you?" Leo whispered, voice muffled by Jonah's sweater, "I know it's a lot, the- the past, yeah, but also now-"

"Nothing about you scares me," Jonah hugged him a little bit tighter, "we all have baggage, Leo," he pulled back to look him in the eye and met Leo's feverish gaze, blue eyes searching his face as if Jonah was going to pull back and say gotcha, "I want to help you carry yours too."

Leo let out a little scoff, pulling back with a smile, "since when you're so good at communicating?"

"Please," Jonah rolled his eyes in a playful manner, pressing his forehead to Leo's, "you're so feverish, you're delusional."

[im-not-a-l0ser]

❓I had to learn how to get up the emoji menu for this ask....

This one was the first to come to mind, but if someone else sends one in, I also have a second one, because I was stuck between the two for a minute.

Anyway, if you read r/trueoffmychest, you might've been confused by Max and Richie's living situation, and this is the story that was for that.

TW for abuse stuff, domestic and sexual.

Max left his bedroom to get some water. Another nightmare staring his mom and some weird fuckin things that he couldn’t name the origins of. 

It helped to get something to drink. Get out of his room. Get out of his head. 

When he got downstairs, the living room light was already on. That was weird. Even when his dad stayed up to these hours, it was just the TV that’d stay on. 

He detoured a bit to turn the light off. That was until he saw a figure. 

“Intruder!” Max yelled, lurching for an attack, but the ‘intruder’ showed his face. “Mark Chasity? What are you doing here?” 

“I am certainly not robbing you, I promise,” He said. His voice was shaky. “And you won’t have to worry about seeing me ever again, so-” He stopped speaking, his voice cracking. “M-My apologies.”

“Whoa, dude,” Max said, guiding him to the couch he was already standing near. “Are you good?”

“No,” He said. “But that, that’s none of your concern.”

“Uh, there’s a crying middle-age man in my house. I think it is my concern. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I…” Mark looked down at his knees. “I don’t think you want to know much about your father’s personal life.” Max huffed a small, sad laugh.

“Are you kidding?” He said, “Not that I would prefer he overshared, but it’d be nice to know some shit! I don’t even know where he works.” He looked down too. “It’s like living with a stranger.” He said that last part quietly. 

“Sadly, that doesn’t surprise me,” Mark remarked. “I… doubt you know anything about his love life either then.” Max shrugged. 

“Just that he’ll kick me out during the day if he’s having a woman over.” Mark paled. “Why? He sleep with your wife or something?”

“Or something, I suppose,” Mark muttered. “You see, uh. Your father and I have been… meeting up for quite some time. To uh. Treat me like one of those women, I suppose.” He sounded so ashamed, probably glad he couldn’t see the look on Max’s face.

Not that it was shameful or disgusted, no. It was anger. 

“Excuse me?” Max exclaimed before putting his voice back down. “That asshold has called me a fucking fag and a queer, meanwhile he’s out sucking salami?”

“Oh, your father would never do that,” Mark gritted. “No, your father, um. I’m not sure how to phrase this to you. He’s not a very giving person,” He said, cringing. “In that way. Serviceable.” Max scoffed.

“Downright disrespectful,” He said, crossing his arms. “It’s a two way street, dude!” 

“You… are reacting quite oddly to hearing about your father having gay… relations with a married man.” Max shrugged and sighed. 

“It’s like I said. Basically a stranger.” 

“I see,” Mark said. “I will still refrain from being crass,” He declared. Max bit back his snicker into just a huff of laughter from his nose. “He and I have been doing this for months now. And it took me far too long that he is an awful man, and I… I may deserve better. Which is saying something considering I’m betraying my faith for all of this.”

“Augh, fuck that shit anyway,” Max said. “Dude, giving up faith to be happy is the best thing you can do for yourself.”

“I suppose,” Mark muttered, not quite agreeing. “Either way, tonight he said some rather rude things, about me and my family, and women as a whole, which as a father of four daughters, I find quite appalling!” He told passionately. He froze. “And then he hurt me. Well, not exactly then. Throughout the night, he was just disrespecting my body and my wishes, but. This is the worst it’s been.”

“Yeah,” Max said. He huffed another laugh, from his mouth this time. He lifted his t-shirt, showing the dark bruising on his ribs. “Got yourself one of these, huh?” He asked, as if it was funny. As if it were so normal that it was just something that everyone would go through, that everyone went through, that everyone knew the feeling of. 

Mark stared with wide eyes. 

“Max, did your… did your father do that to you?” He asked. Max put his shirt down.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“Why?” Max shrugged.

“Y’know, I don’t remember for this one. Probably was walking around the house with my shoes on again,” He laughed. He stopped when he saw Mark’s pained expression. 

“Max, you. You need to leave this house. Your father is dangerous,” He said. “You deserve better than this.” Max laughed again, weak and disbelieving. 

“Nah, man,” He said. “I’m a fuckin asshole. I don’t deserve shit. I mean this—” He motioned to his torso, where the bruise was “—sure, I deserve that, but. Not much else. I’m right were I deserve.”

“Max,” Mark said, clutching Max’s arms gently, in case he’d been hurt there too. “If you think I deserve better, a man who for all you know is cheating on his wife and having sex with another man, then you definitely deserve better.” He removed his hands from Max’s arms. “And I’m willing to bet the only reason you’re so awful is because of your father. He’s… He’s the worst man I’ve ever met. And I’ve met many, many bad men.” Max swallowed. 

“I,” His voice cracked. “I gotta graduate first, dude,” He said. “Dad’d never let me leave without graduating.”

“Alright then,” Mark said. Max let out a sigh of relief, thinking he’d given up on this whole thing. “After you graduate. You leave.” 

“I have nowhere to go—”

“You do now, yes,” He said. “I have this little house on the other side of town. It’s just a simple two bedroom, one bath— it’s nothing special. But I own it, so there’s no rent or mortgage. It’s just utilities, and I can pay for that for the first couple months while you get on your feet.”

“I can’t possibly—”

“All of my kids did the same,” Mark said. “They moved there to gain their independence, get through college. Then they’d find their own place… somewhere else. I-I’m sure Gracey will be staying home for a few years. You can stay there. Max, I insist that you stay there. Please.”

“Mark,” Max said. “I’m not your kid.”

“Well,” Mark said. “You certainly deserve a better father than the one you have.” He swallowed. “I’ll get you a copy of the key. You can visit, see if you like the place, I suppose. You can go there to get away from here if you’d like. I’ll have Gracey deliver it to you. And if you decide you’re sure you don’t want to live there after you graduate, then fine. I’ll… I’ll stand down.”

Max stared at Mark for a moment, taking in how genuine and worried he looked. 

“Okay,” He croaked.

There was a pause.

“Augh, wait, you and my dad have been boning?! Gross, I used to like your daughter!” 

“Yes, imagine my surprise when I learned that as well,” Mark said with a shaky laugh. “I’ve really got to go though. And you should too. I’m sure you’ve got something going on tomorrow.” He did. Mark stood up. “Sleep well, Max,” He said before quietly leaving out the front door. Max locked it behind him. 

He watched from the window Mark pulling out of their driveway and driving away until his car was out of sight. He swallowed and headed back to his bedroom. 

[swamp-gremlin]

My Old Nick hc's, interpretation, analysis, and other odd bits PT.2

Part 1

I really did not expect to have this much to say about him but I'm also not surprised

Read the previous part because I'll be building off the first one here

Only TW is broken bones and lightish body horror but then again its just kinda bleak

Playing off the hc that Nick its literally just slowly rotting away, thats why i typically draw him with like frost bite wounds, and for a reason why his physical condition fluctuates every time i draw him is that his physical condition and power is directly related to how popular/ feared/ believed in (yes i am aware of the irony of having his power be tied to popularity considering that no-one besides me and like 2 other people give a shit about him, i think its funny)

I'll flesh the whole popularity=power thing later as per usual

Nick is physically very weak and frail and if it weren't for his magic coughing on him could probably kill him tbh

His bones are just disturbingly frail and I imagine as a bit of a twist on like the question of "how would Santa get in if you didn't have a chimney?" And I was like what if Nicks just broke his own bones to get into places, like horribly twisting and and breaking his body to get to you (Kinda played around with this idea in Kidnapping PSA, but would love to go harder with it in the future)

Nick is also severely underweight for his height of 7ft, and not for his own doing he just can't put on much weight. He hates how skinny and physically weak he is without magic.

His clothes work to make him look much larger and imposing than he is, like how prey a animals stance up to make themselves scarier to predators

He has an abnormally low body temperature, he is physically cold to the touch, he's very temperature sensitive and will pass out if it goes above 60°

You just know his skins dry as hell....

Imperceptibly shivers, very minor and you can't really see it if he's moving around but if he's just sitting down reading you can see it; he really hates it because it makes doing anything with very fine detail very hard

Cannot image Nick many- if any friends

and his ex-husband doesn't count, like he might have business partners but those aren't people you see outside of a meeting or a business dinner. Like the only person who really tolerates him like that is Merasmus.

There divorce was honestly pretty amicable, don't mean Nick doesn't regret it, because i don't think he's gonna find another person who tolerates him like that again

He's probably like super lonely but will never ever emit to that, but like with most things you can tell...

Nick does not shut the fuck up- like at all. He will have nothing to say, but he sure will just keep saying words.

Very much overshares like so often, you could just be taking his order at the register and he will be on about how much he misses his ex for like 30 minutes and you just have to awkwardly cut him off and ask if he wants ketchup or not

Oh speaking of ordering food, Nick totally heckles any poor waiter or cashier that have the misfortune of encountering him. He wants to speak to your manger right now.

He is just so inconceivably petty... The slightest disrespect to him and he's doing some ludicrous shit to you. Scuff his shoes? he's signing you up for the military. Spill your drink on him? He's ruining your credit score.

I image the lay out and construction of his mansion is just strange, a majority of it is under ground to avoid the arctic winds and prevent damage. But the internal lay out is this Winchester like maze, halls that lead to nothing, tall narrow stares into darkness, no windows, empty useless rooms that no-one has entered in over century- maybe even forgotten. I think even he gets lost some times, know one really knows why he just keeps building and adding on, but he keeps just doing it.

Someone smarter than me can probably write up some dissertation/ comparison about how Sarah Winchester kept building out of guilt and fear of the spirits of the people who where killed by her family's weapons.

He can play piano quite well but he just hasn't played in a while...

He has the vibe of that horribly toxic theater kid you knew from high-school who makes that time they got lead role in a play there whole personality

Gets super red in the face for like any reason, angry? red. embarrassed? red. Bashful? red. Drunk? red. its so funny and he probably gets so embarrassed about it

Im going to assume you read through this and the first part so thank you for reading my stupid ramblings, here have this as a reward.

-> Playlist

have some old silly doodles i don't think ive posted here

[blocksruinedme]

Scott said he's a dom top.

Genuinely not PG. Youtube get clickbaity, but you, my dear tumblr, get that SCOTT SAID HE’S A DOM TOP and I bet you a 10 blue checkmarks this is not a gag. Look at his fucking face. he is NOT JOKING. there’s the clearly jokes scott jokes, the ones you can’t tell, and then there’s “oh no he’s just speaking the truth".  He is excited to have an opportunity to overshare. You watch bdubs in 2017 saying he’s a well-hung dilf, I mean he had to say that, right?. Scott? Scott wants us to know he’s a dom top, and. It's not like I’m *surprised* but Martyn is my blockperson of the day for his response, omg.

(~transcript under the cut)

Seriously you can SEE scott was waiting for someone else to say something so he could just make it really fucking clear to thousands of people that yes he means that literally he does wish he was in someone’s butt, no it wasn't a random joke. Scott.

Do we collectively know this kind of thing, in a clearly non-joking way, about anyone in 1) this general pg-ish crowd 2) minecrafters in general. 

(more ramblings and ~transript below the cut)

like this isn’t causing me any problems, y’know, but god damn is this a lot to take in (heh heh). I watched it so many times to do all the editing I did and it still fucks me up sometimes. SCOTT S SMAJOR, what would we do without you. Imagine the ecosystem with no scott. With no mcc? 

Why did i put so much work into this one? IDK but I learned new things doing it. Since i did captions, here is a transcript/summary

[Before the clip starts martyn listed off who was online, which involved saying smajor.]

Eloise: smajoooor

Martyn: smajor

Eloise (proud of herself) smajor pain in my butt!

[people endorse this joke]

Scott: I wish I was a smajor pain in someone’s butt

[martyn missed what he said, the other two make shocked sounds]

E: oh me oh my

[Scott is laughing too much to be coherent]

[martyn asked what he missed, just heard the outpour of disgust]

[scott says it again.]

[martyn cocks his head and says “fair.”]

[a brief pause]

Eloise: valid scott, never hide that about yourself

Scott (smugly): i am a top.

Scott (still smug): a dom top.

Eloise: ok maybe we should hide things about ourself actually

Martyn: I woulda called switch, actually

[eloise mutes to shout]

[white--moon]

Ichigo’s expecting some kind of false reassurance, and that response starts out sounding that way before it takes an abrupt turn and he realizes Shiro’s just giving him shit. He narrows his eyes before turning his head to look at him. “Funny.” But it lightens the mood, so he doesn’t elbow him again.

He snarls, eyes shutting, gripping his fork in a fist. “They’re all age inappropriate! It would be one thing if he was actually serious, but it’s ridiculous. I don’t even know which is worse, the old people that try to let me down easy or the ones that are into it. I shouldn’t have hypertension at twenty-two.” Really, his chest hurts. He drops his fork to his plate and sits back.

He feels his brow wrinkle the further into the story Shiro gets. It sounds awful. But it’s done and over with. It only seems like a fresh wound to him because he’s hearing it for the first time, so he shoves down the protective instincts that are slowly creeping up, and nods to show he’s listening.

The second peel is a little too much, but he chews it anyway, sipping his drink to counter the flavor until his glass is empty. “Do you have any kids?”

He should be annoyed. But that grin Shiro gives him has Ichigo eyeing his mouth and a set of soft looking lips. “All that just to get a new errand boy? Seems like too much direct work for you. My old man will be flattered as hell to find out you probably have pictures of him on your phone.”

That narrow look cracks him up. "I'm a funny guy, it's part of my charm."

The snarl. It straightens his spine and pulls a shiver through him and he's a lot more into that than he should be, especially while Ichigo's grabbing that fork like he might stab someone with it. His brows are near his hairline for the second it takes for the surprise to wear off before his features are twisting into disgust. "What the fuck? That's nasty on all levels. You want me to burn the clinic down so these people stop showin' up for a while? Maybe you really should tell your dad you have a boyfriend."

He sees the look forming on Ichigo's features and silently swears that he will absolutely beat the pity out of Ichigo if that's where this is headed. But Ichigo doesn't say anything and that might be even worse, because now he's pretty sure he overshared again. Damn. He really needs to learn when to shut up. "Anyway. Tell anyone any of this and I'll have your teeth pulled out with rusty pliers."

He's finally starting to feel full and leans back, still picking at what's left of the food in front of him. He looks over with a very incredulous look. "Oh, no. No chance of that. I mean, ok, very small chance. There's, uh. Gaps and blurs in my memories that I guess could mean anything but probably mean I was too fucked up to do anything let alone get it up. So. No. No oopsies for me."

He scoffs. "A really hot errand boy. And I do a lot of my own work, or I did before you decided you wanted to crack eggs for me. I don't run a lot of my own drugs, but I usually do the tougher collection jobs. And I definitely don't have photos of your dad on my phone, that's just weird."

[delicatebluebirdruins]

welcome to new raccoon city (NRE 1)

I watched the entire show in a day I went in with very low expectations and wrote down my thoughts and reactions as I went. My short review will be at the end of the 8 posts. Spoilers DUH

- hello rabbit?

- the kid is cute

- why is she in London

- this music is so loud

- Poor bunny

- the zombies are like sharks

- oopsie daisy/ why get up when there was still a hoard of zombies there?

- finders keepers

- burn baby burn

- HELLO???

- music choice is horrifying

- back to 2022 line delivery is wierd

- freaky white neighbourhood (would hate to see all exterior shots of this show in a dark room with full brightness on a screen)

- five cupcake shops?

- Jade is kinda mood (oversharing though)

- why balloons

- a slice of what Carol?

- back to the future: nice accent dude

- a survivor?

- 2022 Billie broke somesone leg? why blood tests?

- why stab needle in your neck?

- why is the decor and costuming so white?

- hi creepy mask

- birth shenagins

- we eat vegans first? do vegans know how to identify edible items in the wild? because thats a useful skill for everyone to know?

- whats going on in Tijuana?

- owning? friends?

- flashy lights are a no from me

- Brighton to London is not a short trip

- Hi Tate

- 2022 again poor Billie

- I’m scared. I don’t like Tamara

this was my thoughts through the run up to this (the few things I learned) and actually watching it myself

- yeah Dave shut up?

- zeroes? why not just call them zombies

- oh great back to OG Resi lore where the t- virus doesn’t make zombies it just makes people rabid and look dead (where’s the hate for Jill, Chris, Claire and Leon I wonder becuase they also have killed people infected with a bioweapon who were sentient or is that just related to Ethan)

- a bounty? why?

- much security, very wow. I’m sure nothing will come of this

- that fucking holographic bear

- PETA gave Umbrella a award for not animal testing? not surprised PETA are fucking trash so I am not surprised

- Heist? Heist!

- socks to the beach, spock 21 for a password for everything

- red elevator is not ominous at all

- dramatic music and I don’t know who that is but I know he’s bad becuase the music said so

- okay mystery man is called Mr Baxtar and he is scary

- same password for everything? Wesker? really?

- Billie you fool (she see’s a heavily secured crate in a animal testing lab and decides to open it)

- hi puppy yes eat the silly girls

- 2 more times of flashing lights making me unomfortable

- back to the future: Do a flip!

- Dabb (the director is called andrew dabb)

[subspencer]

thot gf absolutely sticking up for sub Spencer

idk how to end blurbs, ever. but this is a rewrite of that baseball scene

cw: no explicit smut/smut is implied, creepy dude being creepy. wc: 1k

It was the bottom of the ninth inning, and Spencer still hadn't hit a ball once. You were waiting in the stands, watching anxiously knowing he was next up to bat. The bases were loaded, the team was only down one point, and Spencer was their last chance.

You stood up from your seat as he stepped up to bat. When you heard Spencer was going to play for the FBI's softball team, you went the whole nine yards to make it unforgettable for him – and that meant a special outfit. I was as close to a cheerleading uniform as you could get passably get away with. A short, navy blue pleated skirt, and a cropped tank top that barely covered your chest.

"You got this, babe!!" you cheered, bouncing on your toes, making your skirt flounce around you. Spencer looked at you and sighed; he was already in his head about this, and your distracting outfit wasn't doing him any favors.

"This guy's a fucking loser," someone muttered. You whipped your head around to shoot daggers at the man who said it.

"Shut your mouth," you grunted. He looked exactly like a jerk; balding, a little drunk, and probably a former high school athlete. And he spoke like one.

"Don't get sore, honey," he laughed. He eyed you up and down in a way that made you want to gag. His eyes stopped right at the hem of your short skirt. "Aren't you a bit out of his league?"

You rolled your eyes, shooting him a pointing glare and turning back around, "No. He's out of mine."

Spencer missed his first two swings. His head hung low while the opposing team teased him some more, thinking they were probably right about him.

"Hey! Time out!" you yelled.

The referee turned around. "You can't do that, you're not playing -"

"I don't care. Time out."

You shot Derek a hopeful glance, and he gave the ref a shrug. "She said time out."

Spencer looked back at you, confused. You crooked your finger and called him over, pressing up against the wire fence that separated you.

"Hey, listen to me. Don't worry about these other losers," you whispered, poking your finger through the fence and tapping his nose. "They don't know what they're talking about."

"I think they do," he laughed sadly. "I'm the one feeling like the loser here."

"You should be," the guy from before shouted again.

You turned back around, furious. "Sir, if you don't shut the fuck up, I'm going to knock you out."

He laughed, and Hotch who was sitting beside you and watched the whole thing turned around to give him another glare. Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore.

"It's okay," Spencer said wistfully.

"No, it's not. You're doing so good, I'm so proud of you."

"I haven't hit a single ball."

"And I don't care if you do or don't. You don't have to impress me, you know." You smiled at him, reaching down to hold his hand – or at least, whichever fingers would fit through the fence. You could tell he was worried about looking good in front of you, he didn't even know he never had to try to do that. "I'm already impressed by you. Every day."

Spencer smiled genuinely for the first time that day.

"But, just know... if you do hit that next one, I have a little surprise for you at home."

"Really?" his voice pitched up, eyes scanning you up and down. He trapped the cloth of your skirt between two fingers, tugging at it. "Can't imagine it gets better than this outfit."

"Oh, but it does... I might've made you a little dance routine to go with it. Can't share it here."

"Mhm. And what if I don't get it?"

"Well, then you'll get the consolation prize... and Spencer, it's pretty good, too."

"Come here," he laughed, calling you closer with a finger until you pressed your cheek up to the metal so he could place a kiss there. "Wish me luck!"

Clapping your hands together, you cheered as Spencer went back up to the plate, holding the bat more confidently in his hands.

"Can I steal the prize when he loses?"

Huffing, you looked back at the creep one last time. "Listen, fucker. Not in a million years, would I choose someone like you over him. I don't care if he never makes a hit, or if he ends up bald and sad like you. No one will ever compare to him. Or fuck me as good as he does."

The man turned dark red, choking on his own spit at your last few words. Even Hotch couldn't feel anything but proud of Spencer, despite the overshare.

Spencer heard what you said. He wasn't out of earshot yet when it went down. A smirk was plastered on his face as he tapped the bat down on the plate and raised it, waiting for a pitch.

What happened after was nothing short of a miracle. Spencer hit the ball dead-on, sending it far out where none of the other guys expected him to. He ran through all the bases, sliding in to steal home. The team won because of him.

Derek was lifting Spencer up when you stormed onto the field.

"Spencer!" you yelled, running up to him. Derek quickly put him down, and Spencer immediately went around and picked you up effortlessly, as if he did it all the time.

"Woah, there. Suddenly you're a big, strong athlete, huh?" you laughed, putting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself in the air. Spencer's hands were cradling you, one on your back and the other under your thigh.

"Absolutely, I am. Did you see me?" His smile was brighter than the sun as he spun you around.

"I did." You leaned down, pulling him into a heated kiss, tipping his hat off to run a hand through his messy hair. "Can't wait to give you your surprise," you said between smaller pecks.

"Ooh. Should I shower first?" He looked down at himself, covered in dirt from sliding across the field.

"No," you shook your head, smirking. "Leave it. I'm kinda digging this rugged look on you."

The adrenaline rush gave him this huge surge of confidence – that, and the fact he knew what you said about him when you thought he couldn't hear. He kissed you again, the hand on your thigh moving to a less respectable place right under your ass. He gave it a firm squeeze, and you squealed in surprise.

"Okay, big man, if this is what you're like after winning, then I think you should play more often," you laughed.

"Only if you come to the games dressed like this every time."

You nodded. "Deal."

[veronicathegoddess]

hai and welcome to me oversharing on the internet because why tf not

so i started birth control a couple months ago and basically it's been wreaking havoc on my libido, i genuinely do not be horny as much as i used to which has been affecting my relationship. tonight i was finally in the mood and i was like oh i'd get all dressed up and surprise my boyfriend. so i get all cute, put on pretty lingerie, do my makeup and take cute ass pics and send them to him.

so he send the most unenthusiatic response ever. he literally was like oh you look really good. i was oh we're gonna try this again, same dry ass response. i'm like fine, we'll be direct, i told him i wanted him which is what he's wanted for weeks. still unenthusiastic and dry and now he's acting like if he leaves his video game for 15 fucking minutes the world is gonna end.

he calls me, and he's still dry as hell and at this point i am no longer in the mood. so he gets upset and asks why and i'm like is this not obvious? so i explain that he didn't make me feel wanted and he doesn't seem like he wants to be here and he snaps at me and is like why is nothing that i do for you enough. i'm on the verge of tears and i'm like fine, i'll go. i hang up and now i'm here ranting on tumblr as i regret my decisions and feel very very unwanted.

anyways there's a moral here but i can't see it because i feel horrible and will be drinking for the rest of the night to cope like i don't have to work tomorrow. have a great night everyone <3

[moonlight-frittata]

I Don’t Need a Mechanic

Overwatch: Dva and Brigitte (a few others make appearances)

Word count: ~5500 

My take on when Dva meets Brigitte and the first month or so of them getting to know each other on base.

---

Six months Hana Song had been a part of Overwatch, and during that time she set a very strict precedent that no one, not even Winston or Athena the AI was allowed to touch her mech, Tokki. So seeing the back of someone inside the cockpit as she entered the Watchpoint Gibraltar hangar made her blood boil. 

“Excuse me!! What the hell are you doing??” 

The person’s body jerked, their head banging against the low roof of the cockpit ceiling they wedged their torso inside. Hana heard a short mumble of something incomprehensible and a long, thick ponytail of red hair retreated from the mech in a hurry. A very tall, buff young woman around Hana’s age emerged blushing with a sheepish grin.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I couldn't help myself. I’ve always wondered what these Korean models looked like up close. But in hindsight I really should have asked first.”

Her accent was European, but it was hard for Hana to place with any real certainty. Could have been Scandinavian, remembering some of the players from Finland she competed against back in her pro days. 

“Yeah, you should have fucking asked.” 

The crimson hue on the tall, possibly Finnish trespasser’s cheeks faded and she held her ground, not scared off yet by D.va’s harsh tone.

“Right. Won’t happen again, I promise,” she said. 

Dva scoffed a bit and pushed past the buff intruder to look inside the mech to inspect if anything was out of place. A moment of stuffy silence passed between the two and Hana hoped the other girl would get the message and leave.

“I’m Brigitte Lindholm by the way.”

Hana let out an audible huff as a familiar freckled face appeared looking through the glass on the other side of her heads up display.

“Oh. Yeah, Fareeha warned me a new girl was joining,” Hana replied from inside the cockpit while she busied herself checking Tokki’s systems. 

“And you’re Hana Song, right?” Brigitte continued lightly, clearly unperturbed. “Or do you prefer to go by D.va?”

Hana paused at the mention of her gamer tag turned call sign. 

“It’s Lieutenant Song, actually.”

Brigitte raised an eyebrow at the curt reply, her smile fading to a neutral expression. It only dipped for a moment though as she extended her hand. 

It was an awkward gesture to shake hands from inside the mech, even though the front of the cockpit was partially open near the joysticks. Hana looked at Brigitte’s outstretched hand and gentle smile on the other side of the glass. Was this a joke? She pursed her lips and sized Brigitte up for a few tense seconds before reaching out. The grip was firm and Hana’s hand practically disappeared in Brigitte’s large palm.

“Lieutenant Song. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Hana sighed and rolled her eyes, a little of the bluster going out of her at the sincerity in Brigitte’s tone. Satisfied that no harm had come to the mech, she backed out of the cockpit.

“Just call me Hana. That rank doesn’t really mean anything here anyway. Lena will probably make fun of me if she hears you calling me Lieutenant.”

Brigitte walked back around Tokki to join her, a lingering hand tracing over the pink exoskeleton as she moved. “I’m surprised she doesn’t make you call her Captain.”

“Oh, she’s tried.”

Brigitte laughed. 

“Sounds about right.”

D.Va chuckled for a moment, briefly disarmed by the new stranger, before she remembered how this person was rudely poking around her stuff only moments before, and snapped back into her gruff demeanor. 

“Lindholm, you said? Like Torbjörn Lindholm?”

Brigitte sighed, clearly used to this connection.

“Yes. Genius engineer of Overwatch 1.0, founder of Ironclad Industries, husband to Ingrid, and father of way too many children, including yours truly.”

“So, you grew up in an Overwatch family?” Hana asked as her full attention focused on Brigitte for the first time in their conversation.

“You could say that,” Brigitte said. She picked up a silver ratchet resting on a nearby worktable, spinning the head around between her fingers and levering the handle back and forth, testing the weight distribution of the tool in her hand. 

Hana could tell there was more to the story than her new teammate seemed willing to let on. She found it interesting that Brigitte, who had been all candid smiles a moment ago when she was caught somewhere she shouldn’t be and oversharing to someone she just met, was now hand waving around the subject.  

Overwatch kids are pretty up their own asses about 1.0 normally. Wonder what her deal is...

This was what Hana was known for back in her pro days. Seeing a flaw in an opponent’s defense and breaking it wide open. But she needed to remember she only just met this girl, who would soon be her teammate. Maybe save that for another day. 

“Well, Lindholm. As long as you stay clear of my mech, I don’t see a reason we should have problems working together. What’s your specialty?”

Brigitte perked up at the change of subject.

“Support. Both base level engineering support and in the field. I've got my bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering, and I’ve been working on Reinhardt’s gear for over a year now. Angela - I mean, Dr. Ziegler, is training me to be certified as a field medic.” 

“Tough job. Think you can handle the gore?”

A wry smile pulled at Brigitte’s lips, her head shaking back and forth in a small, bemused gesture as she placed her hands on her hips. 

“You don’t pull any punches do you, Lieutenant Song?”

D.Va crossed her arms, holding eye contact with Brigitte who matched her gaze with amusement. 

“The best shot caller in the world is just a loud piece of shit if her team isn’t up to the same standard. So yeah, I like to know who has my back and if she can handle herself.”

Brigitte regarded D.Va for a moment, her jaw working back and forth as if chewing on the approach she wanted to take in response.

“I’ve been patching up Reinhardt for a while now. If I’m honest though, I’m scared it’s not going to be enough one day. But that’s not what I need to focus on, and instead I’ll do the best I can to support the people here.”

The plain way Brigitte shared her apprehensions left Hana uncomfortable. She couldn’t imagine telling someone out loud she was afraid, especially on her first day. Though in truth, she herself felt scared shitless half the time while doing this work.

Brigitte’s smile was back. Did it ever leave that pretty face? It did suit her though, framed by the freckles and warm brown eyes. If this girl wasn’t built like a literal tank of 6 foot something muscle, Hana might have more apprehension about sending her out to fight Omnics and Talon. 

“Well Lieutenant Song, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time with my intrusion. Fareeha and Winston will be missing me very shortly for the rest of their planned orientation schedule,” Brigitte said as she carefully placed the ratchet she previously picked up back on the workstation, breaking the spell of awkward silence.

D.Va smirked, feeling tension leave her shoulders to match Brigitte’s playful demeanor. 

“Mmm, well now I understand why you were hiding down here.”

“Yes they are indeed quite enthusiastic and thorough with their material.”

She gave a wink and started to walk away, turning briefly to call over her shoulder.

“I noticed there was a small coolant leak under the left fusion cannon. Might get a bit sticky on the left hand.”

“Bye Brigitte, enjoy your 300 page orientation manual quiz.”

Brigitte waved once more and turned around, already so sure and familiar with the layout of the hangar and the base.

She’s just another Overwatch kid, and just another nosey engineer trying to get in my mech.

Hana lingered by her workstation, picking up the ratchet Brigitte had been fiddling with and thinking over their brief encounter again. 

Would this girl be a liability on the battlefield? Brigitte looked strong on the exterior, but then, so did Tokki. If you took away the mecha armor, inside was just a squishy human target bullets and fire could cut through like paper the second she was exposed and vulnerable.

Hana took a deep breath.

She walked around to the left fusion cannon and did indeed see the signs that a coolant leak was backing up inside the casing. Pretty subtle to spot with minimal visible damage to the exterior. 

Not bad, Lindholm.

D.Va pulled her headphones on, turning to her latest loop of pop songs to blast while she went to work removing the panels on the cannon to replace the broken coolant line. The task felt good, and helped her mind drift to thoughts other than her conversation in the hangar.

---

Hana didn’t see much of Brigitte the next few weeks. The new recruit was busy with training and learning mission protocols expected of field agents in addition to shifts with Mercy in the clinic to  fulfill the certifications Brigitte was required to complete. Hana would see her sometimes at dinner, often in a spirited conversation with Reinhardt or Lena. It seemed to take Brigitte no time at all to fit in amongst the old guard, but it seemed that’s what being the favorite niece of pretty much every person here would get you. 

Hana would half listen to their stories, always feeling awkward and out of place amongst their banter. Overwatch was like a family, but she was more like the stranger invited as someone’s plus one. Everyone seemed to have an ingrained familiarity with each other. A single word could trigger a whole series of anecdotes every person around had some personal insight to add on to. 

Remember this! 

Oh how is so and so?  

Damn, that was 5 years ago already? 

Even on her squad in Korea, she never had what they people here seemed to have. Dae-hyun was a close childhood friend and followed her into the MEKA squad, but the other pilots were a different story. There was always a bit of friction and distance with the rest of her teammates because of their history as pro-gamer competitors forced into an arrangement as teammates. It never really gelled beyond cordial coworker relationships. Hana’s celebrity status didn’t help either, only adding another barrier between herself and the others. The fame of D.Va closed her off in access to most people unless they were on the other side of a screen, and then they only saw a polished up version of herself. 

Not exactly the best way to get close to people.

Sometimes she was curious to learn more when she heard the Overwatch stories, but she always stopped herself before saying anything. It was easier to pull out her phone and queue up a game. Easy to pull back and ignore them, and usually they left her alone to do it.

She was okay with that. She was okay with keeping Hana and D.Va separate. She was okay with only polite greetings and trite platitudes. She didn’t need to know about the times from before, or what her Overwatch teammates did on the weekends. She just needed them to listen to her in the field and leave her room to make her plays. Like every time she started a new game, she didn’t have to focus on the past, or what others thought, she just had to focus on the objective in front of her. It’s what got the job done and what kept her alive.

---

Brigitte kept her word to stay out of Hana’s mech. She set up her own work station on the other side of the hangar where she worked on Reinhardt’s gear as well as her own. Hana would sometimes see the blue flash of a shield out of the corner of her eye over the hum of diagnostic scans or smell the burn of sparks from welding. 

One day curiosity got the best of her when she heard the loud, repetitive pounding of a hammer on metal and she wandered across the hangar. 

“You’re doing that by hand?”

Brigitte stopped working when she heard the voice behind her, the deafening echo silenced on the metal shoulder guard she was beating against.

“On this armor I do. Reinhardt’s gear is special from the time it was made. It has to be maintained with some older techniques.”

“Why?”

Brigitte looked at her surprised for a moment then laughed, loud and warm. 

“You know, I wondered the same at first. It’s a bit of the way this armor is made, modern techniques can be too harsh on it, interestingly enough. Too precise and it becomes too fragile.”

“That doesn’t sound true,” D.va said.

“Oh, questioning my methods huh? Well, maybe the truth is more I didn’t originally have the right gear out in the field, and Reinhardt didn’t have much modern tech either, so the only way to do it was by hand. But it’s nice actually to keep doing it this way, I like getting my hands dirty with it. Helps me relax.”

“See that I believe.”

“Well, I’m glad I have your approval, Lieutenant Song.”

D.Va rolled her eyes, but smiled a little.

“I told you before, you can just call me Hana. Although, I do like the respect of authority.”

“Lieutenant suits you.”

Hana smirked a little at the complement, turning to pick something up on a nearby table. She picked up one of Brigitte’s gauntlets, slipping it on her hand. Her arm sagged under the weight, the glove coming up well above her elbow.

“Is it exhausting wearing all this armor? How do you run around with it on? I can barely lift this thing.”

“There’s movement assist when the unit is turned on. But I mean, I think I can handle it.” 

Brigitte smirked as she made a show of flexing her well defined arms, and Hana couldn’t help but gawk a bit before she turned back to fiddling with the glove. 

“Um, yeah I uh, noticed you seem to be in good shape.”

“Oh yeah?” Brigitte was smirking, clearly enjoying the slight fluster she was causing in her new teammate. Hana put the glove back on the table and gave Brigitte a light shove on the arm.

“Oh give me a break, you know you’re buff. Do you even own a shirt with sleeves?”

“I’m very familiar with OW 2.0’s handbook, and the dress code is quite lax about on-base personal attire. But, mostly I just like hearing you complement me.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you’re strong enough to move your ass around in this armor so you can protect my blindspots while I’m doing all the real heavy lifting.”

Brigitte laughed again. Hana couldn’t help but smile too at the warm sound. Brigitte’s whole face lit up, and her eyes crinkled around the edges. No wonder she was the favorite niece.

“Fair. I’ve seen your battle footage and some news clips when you were back in Korea. You’re so strong, I doubt you even need me.”

“Ah, another fan of D.Va. Well, who can blame you,” Hana said with a flick of her hair. She continued to walk around Brigitte’s workstation, picking up random pieces of armor. Brigitte didn’t seem to mind.

“Actually Reinhardt was the real die hard D.Va fan. We used to always have a stash of the instant noodles with your face on them in our rig. Great shelf life. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you for an autograph yet.”

“Well he’s one to talk! Did you know, when I was a kid there was a Reinhardt special edition line of noodles? I remember I tried them once and they had such a weird flavor. It was like ketchup and curry powder or something. He had a pretty big fanbase in Korea actually.”

“Hah! I didn’t know that, but I’d believe it. There’s been so much Overwatch merchandise over the years, I’ve lost track. They were such celebrities back in the day.”

“Yeah.”

Hana knew a thing or two about having her image used for propaganda. She wondered for a moment what it was like for Brigitte, growing up amongst the same environment, but removed from the center of it. An image of her laughing in the cafeteria with the old guard flashed through her mind. She decided it must have not been too bad, and refrained from asking the question.

“Okay well, I’ll leave you to your meditative, hammer time. I need to get back to my mech anyway, I’ve got a mission tomorrow morning,” Hana said, turning to leave. Brigitte let out a long sigh, slumping into a chair. 

“Oh, it must be nice to leave the base.”

Hana stopped in her tracks, curious again, hearing such an outburst from Brigitte. She turned around and poked one of Brigitte’s large muscles near her shoulder.

“Oh come on, don’t be dramatic. You’ll be done with your training block soon. Fareeha is just, really particular before she lets anyone out on a mission. It took almost two months, and me breaking every score in the simulators for her to let me out in the field.”

“I know, I know. It just sucks sometimes feeling like everyone is being overprotective of me. I can handle myself, I’m not a little kid.”

Hana couldn’t help but give a little hmphf sound, her lips pulling down at the corners. 

“Yeah, I get that feeling. You can’t speed up time though, you just have to grind it out.”

Hana wasn’t normally one for listening to whining, but she thought Brigitte looked quite cute while she pouted, her arms crossed tight against her torso and her lip jutted out. It was hard not to laugh at the sight a bit, but Hana held her tongue. She really did know how it felt to want to prove yourself.

“Hey come on, there’s plenty of work you’re doing here that’s valuable. And when you’re ready, you’ll get called up and out there with the rest of us.”

Brigitte took a deep breath, seeming to blow out the negative feelings in one dramatic sigh. When she straightened up in her chair she seemed to be in better spirits, smiling at Hana again.

“You probably know better than anyone how to do that. Thanks Lieutenant, I’ll try. Let me know if my hammering gets too distracting. I can always go find something else to do.”

“It’s fine. I hardly noticed.”

“Well in that case, I’ll just be over here until dinner time.”

---

A few days later Hana almost threw her computer across the hangar. 

“Why is this piece of shit so useless!”

The MEKA diagnostic program she used to keep Tokki up to date was crashing every five minutes when she tried to run a scan of the system. It had slowly been degrading the last few weeks and after the latest mission it apparently decided it had enough. She tried every trick she knew, both from working on the mech for years and everything she could think of on her personal gaming rig, but she only had rudimentary coding skills and was vastly out of her depth.

“Everything okay?”

Brigitte’s gentle voice called out from a few feet away as she had stopped her own work to come see D.Va’s meltdown.

“Everything’s fine. Except I’m going to have to go throw this piece of crap, and then myself, in the ocean.”

“Sounds like a costly solution. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine, I don’t need anyone’s help.”

She could feel Brigitte’s sympathetic look burning into her cheek and hated it.

“Okay no problem. I’m around though, just let me know if you want an extra set of eyes.”

Hana stared at the email she had sent to Dae-Hyun the day before that still had no response. She knew her mech’s hardware inside and out, but he was the one who really handled all the intense computer program internals. She was out of her depth here and needed him to call her so she could get this thing working again, but he wasn’t answering. Maybe he was deployed somewhere or too busy with a social life now that she was gone. 

She had decided to come here for Overwatch. So maybe she should trust Overwatch.

“Brigitte, wait a minute.”

The other girl paused and turned, only having walked a few feet away from D.Va’s workstation.

“I could probably use some help here, if you’re still offering?”

Brigitte smiled, but it was more muted than her usual mega watt grin. Hana appreciated that she wasn’t making a big deal about it. 

God, why is this girl so nice.

“Definitely.”

Brigitte walked around the workbench where Hana set up her computer station and listened to the general description of the problems. As Hana started clicking through screens to show the protocol she usual ran, Brigitte held up a hand to make her stop.

“I understand what you’re saying, but looking at the text, I can’t read Korean. Does it have a translation setting?” “I doubt it. This thing was only meant to be used by the Korean MEKA squad.” Hana felt her stomach drop at how quick her hopes of getting this programming running were already dashed.

“Well lucky for us, Overwatch has some very robust translation tech we can utilize.” “Really? It’s not the AI is it? I’ve been so resistant to letting her in my computer.”

“That would be one possibility, but there are some more localized options we have. I’ve had to do this once or twice on one of my papa’s projects.”

“How long will it take?” “Don’t know! Could take a while, I’m not going to lie to you, especially with your program already acting buggy. But don’t worry Lieutenant, we’ll sort you out.”

Hana groaned, already having major doubts about letting Brigitte mess with her tech. But she didn’t have a lot of options, and this was probably the least embarrassing choice on the table at the moment. 

Brigitte moved back and forth between D.Va’s workstation and her own across the hangar, gathering cables and a laptop she would use to debug the system. Hana watched over Brigitte’s shoulder for a while, monitoring her work to get the translation program working on the MEKA diagnostic software. 

“Where’d you learn to do this type of thing?”

“Back in college. I had to learn a certain amount of coding for my major, but I helped out Winston some in his lab on campus and he taught me a lot of tricks too.”

“Jesus, is there literally anyone on this fucking base you don’t have some personal connection with?” 

Hana stepped away from the computer and dropped down into an empty chair with a huff, spinning the chair on its axis in erratic circles.

Brigitte stopped typing and watched Hana’s tantrum. “It bothers you that I’ve got a close connection to Overwatch?”

Hana did not reply, but crossed her arms and let out a frustrated sigh. Brigitte’s gaze held her for a moment but eventually shifted back to the computer screen as she seemed to weigh her thoughts on how to respond.

“Why did you leave the MEKA squad to join Overwatch?” she asked finally. “It doesn’t have the best history as an organization, you know.”

Hana stopped spinning to look at the side of Brigitte’s face, who’s eyes were still trained on the laptop screen. “Well it’s better to actually be in a fight than on the sidelines.”

Brigitte stopped what she was doing and turned to face D.va. “You’re the best pilot in the MEKA program. Why would you be sidelined?”

Hana let out a bitter laugh. “Best pilot? I was more than that. I was the face of the fucking Korean army! Which eventually meant I was too valuable to be an actual soldier.” Hana stood up walking to the end of the workbench, reaching out to touch one of her mecha’s guns. She couldn’t see Brigitte, but she could feel the other girl watching her.

“I got real banged up in a fight with the Gwishin. Like, probably should have died kind of banged up. I was out of action for months. After that, the army realized they couldn’t let the poster girl for their success stories die in an actual fight. So they moved me off the Busan base and deployed me to lead baby fights happening inland, but whose sole purpose was really just a photo op.”

Hana balled her fist in anger at her side, remembering how awful it hurt seeing images of herself on television in all those epic battle sequences, reporters singing praises of heroism, only to know the real truth that it was all a fabricated lie. She couldn’t stand it.

“So when Winston and Lena came to my apartment and asked me to join the new Overwatch, it was a no brainer. My piloting skills are too valuable to just be sidelined in a studio with a green screen.”

The MEKA squad team was fairly understanding when she told them. The same couldn’t be said for her commanding officers, but as D.Va, the amount of influence and money at her disposal proved sufficient for a smooth enough transition.

“I believed this was my shot to get back in the fight. So even if there’s some bad history there, this is a new chance for me, and I am ready to deal with any fallout.” 

Text whizzed by in the background of the computer screen as the console spat out a continuous stream of logs from the program Brigitte fired off as she listened in silence. 

“I never liked Overwatch. I still don’t,” Brigitte finally said.

Hana turned to face her, very confused. 

“Really? But, you’re like, one of the legacy kids.”

“All that means is I know more of the gritty details and seen firsthand the way people I love were chewed up by this place.”

Hana’s brow furrowed in thought, crossing her arms as she focused on Brigitte. Hana had been so taken in by all the happy scenes in the mess hall and around the base, she hadn’t even thought about the implications and complications that must have been a part of Brigitte’s life. She was so good at always putting on a bright face, how could she have known? 

Brigitte took a deep breath, looking weary as she took a moment to gather her thoughts. 

“When I was a kid, it was like I was one of those audience members you talked about. I was told all the best stories about heroes and villains, and it so happened that my family were literally starring as those heroes. But when I was a little older, I started learning more about history, and the other side of things. The PETRAS act. In fighting and war crimes. Blackwatch. Angela’s medical tech weaponized against her wishes, by my own father it turns out. Winston and Tracer buried under so much red tape, I’m honestly surprised they were ever allowed to leave a military base of their own free will. And Reinhardt... He’s a lot like you, I think. Brave, loyal, too stubborn to be just the face of a movement without putting his own skin on the line. Not when there’s something bigger than himself he believes in.”

A deep sigh, and an almost painful expression crossed her face.

“So no, I don’t like Overwatch. But I also can’t sit on the sidelines while they risk their lives, knowing I can help them. They’re my family. So here I am. Family can be complicated, ya know?” 

Before Hana could come up with something to say, the computer dinged behind them. Brigitte tapped on the keys, reading quickly when a smile crossed her lips. 

“Look at that, perfectly legible Swedish.”

“It’s fixed?” Hana hurried over to look at the computer screen.

“Well, the translation program is running. Now I need to actually debug your diagnostics program.”

“Ughhhh, I’m never going to leave this place.”

Brigitte chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it done. Feel free to go get some dinner if you want. This will take a while.”

“No way I’m going to leave you here all alone!”

“I promise I won’t touch Tokki.”

“It’s not...it’s not that, Brigitte. I just don’t feel right strolling off to dinner while you’re stuck here fixing my shit.”

Brigitte smiled.

“Okay. I definitely don’t mind the company.”

---

Hana tried to keep up with what Brigitte was talking about as she debugged the code. And she could follow along, for a while. Eventually she was way too lost to feel useful, and didn’t want to distract Brigitte while she was fixing the issues, so she retreated to a nearby futon against a wall. It was well past midnight, and Hana’s eyes were starting to droop. Brigitte drank one of the Dva branded nano cola energy drinks a while ago and seemed to be completely in the zone. 

The next thing Hana knew there was a strip of bright light in her eyes as the sun started to stream in through a window in the hangar. Hana stretched to pull out the discomfort her back protested with from not being in her bed, but it was really not that unfamiliar, considering some of the positions she’d fallen asleep at her gaming computer before. A blanket was draped across her body she didn’t remember picking up when laid down on the futon. She was all alone in the hangar and her watch told her it was just after 5am. 

“Brigitte?”

No one answered.

She sat up, noticing an unopened water bottle and energy bar laid out on the ground beside her futon with a little sticky note.

“Give it a go, Lt - Brig”

Hana scooped up the rations and dropped in front of the dark screen of her laptop. When she started up the terminal screen, her diagnostic programming kicked off like it normally did. All in Korean. 

The screen showed exactly where an electric circuit was tripping in the defense matrix grid of the mech, which had been glitching in the field the last few days. Hana noticed the parts and tools needed to complete the fix laid out on the workbench neatly, but when she poked her head in the mech, it remained untouched.

She smiled to herself.

“Kept her word to stay out of Tokki. These Overwatch kids are too much sometimes.”

D.Va pulled the panel off her mech and got to work.

----

At dinner that night, Hana spotted Brigitte in the mess hall with Reinhardt, Tracer and Winston. Brigitte gave her a wink when she noticed her. Hana got her meal and sat beside her, leaving her phone in her pocket for once.

“Thanks for the help with Tokki, Brigitte. Works like a charm now.”

“It was my pleasure, Lieutenant Song.” Brigitte’s smile was kind, her expression gentle and warm. Hana noticed this close up Brigitte’s eyes were lighter around the edges, and she had a few more freckles on her left cheek than the right.

“Did I just ‘ear you call ‘ana Lieutenant?” Lena cut in. “She’s ‘Lieutenant’, but I can’ get none of you to call me Captain? Double standards round ‘ere, I tell ya what.”.

“Well, Hana was a more recent officer in her respective position, while you have been discharged from the RAF for several years now.”

“Who’s side you on Win!? Those ranks don’t expire!”

Brigitte chuckled, whipping her head around to look at Tracer’s shaking her hand dramatically in the air, eyes downcast in an over acted, scandalized look. Hana also let out a small giggle.

“Your rank on the flight simulator scoreboard sure did,” Hana said, poking her tongue out with a playful smirk at Tracer. Brigitte, Reinhardt and Winston all laughed.

“She’s got you there, Lena,” Brigitte said.

“The youth of today. Ruthless.” Tracer grabbed a fist over her heart as if shot in the chest by a bullet.

“You know, back in my days of Overwatch…”

Reinhardt started in on one of his specially tailored stories for whatever situation was at hand, this case a very detailed recount of the first time he granted a field promotion in the Crusaders. Brigitte sighed, correcting inaccuracies she heard along the way, giving a wink to Hana when Brigitte’s presence in the story was pulled into the story much later on.

Lena took up the torch after that, remembering a time she accidentally flew into restricted airspace and managed to sweet talk her way out of being shot down. They all took turns sharing more elaborate one ups from their time before Overwatch. Hana even volunteered a story, sharing the time she convinced Dae-hyun to set Tokki up to stream a battle with the omnics. She broke her single day subscriber count in under one hour.

They all laughed well into the night, and for the first time Hana really started to feel like part of the team.

---

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!

[mrdanielbond]

Wild Nights, Wild Hearts (One-Shot?)

“Mystery man”

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist X Reader]

Plot: It is time to head back to work as a lecturer at your university after a successful first semester. Unfortunately for you, one of your guest lecturers is a familiar face from a wild night out…

[A/N: Wrote this ages ago and thought, hey why not? Okay, so I don’t know if this is going to be an actual thing. Like I assume it’s going to be a one-shot. Plus, in all fairness, Mikael is my favourite non-Bond character of Daniel’s, so I thought it’s time to appreciate this man in all his glory. I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think?]

Music continued to boom through the speakers. The flashing lights and smoke was intense, but you didn’t care. As long as you were still with your friends, celebrating a birthday amongst the group, that's all that mattered. What also helped was the fact your sultry look managed to get you quite a few free drinks from the bartender. You weren’t used to this kind of attention, often keeping a natural look. However, this was your friend and co-worker’s birthday. You wanted to spice things up and look incredible for her. Of course, when Maisie saw you for the first time, she was surprised. In fact, her jaw dropped at how glamorous you looked. “Girl what the HELL! After Florence Pugh, you are a woman I’d proudly fuck.” You remember her particularly saying and that was the start of an incredibly wild night.

“Javier, can I get another tequila please!” You scream with excitement at the bar, Javier proudly pours you your sixth tequila shot.

“This one’s on the house my darling,  Y/N.” He pushed the shot glass in front of you and your eyes widen with excitement. You had to admit, you do have a thing for tequila so this man feeding you free drinks made the night all the better.

“You spoil me.” You winked as you took the shot and walked off to join the rest of your friends.

The night followed with more dancing and more drinks between your friends. At some point on the floor, you started to get tired and your craving for more drinks kicked in because you found yourself at the bar once again. This time you were looking for something more than a shot. “Okay, so it’s like a sex on the beach but like so much fruiter, like with strawberries!” You tried to explain but in your drunken state, Javier couldn’t help but laugh as he struggled listening to you.

“You know what? You tell me what to do and I’ll make it for you.” He said and a devious grin appeared on your face. So you watched, instructing him on how to make your special cocktail and when he finished, he threw a small umbrella inside it to serve you. You sipped it and couldn’t help but moan. It was glorious...Well maybe it would’ve been if you could taste it at all.

“Can I have what she’s having?” A baritone voice said beside you. You turned with your eyebrow raised. “And I’ll pay for hers.”

He reached into his wallet, still looking into your eyes as he handed Javier his card. You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the fact you were practically pushed against each other with how packed the bar was but this man was...incredibly handsome. Rugged dirt blonde hair, bright blue eyes that gave you butterflies and his dark blue shirt didn’t help as you couldn’t help but stare at his chest from time to time. Javier turned back to make your drink for the stranger and handed it over to him. “If you’re going to have a cocktail, you’ve got to get it right. Strawberries with the ice.” He said with a smirk but you couldn’t hear him. Not with the music blasting over you...and his dreamy eyes. “What?” You tried to shout out. “I said-” He could barely get a word out in all the noise and you could see it. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quieter table in the corner. “That’s better - wow.” He suddenly stopped himself when he took another look at you. “You’re really beautiful.” “Smooth.” You chuckled. Alright, so at this point, usually you would say thanks and dip to find your friends. However, this man, bless him, appeared mesmerized by you. He was in awe of you and not just looking at your chest or your figure as though he were some creep. You both hadn’t realised you were still holding hands, leaning into each other.

“Hey, that’s unfair! I’m not usually bold with women.” Something about the mystery man was telling you he was honest. “The strong and silent type is full of surprises.” He said and you swear to god, you could see even he knew what he was doing with that statement. To be honest, he was right. With those eyes, he wouldn’t have to say a single word to get you to go home with him. Throughout the night, you both kept rambling to each other about everything and nothing but you were both having fun, laughing together and putting each other at ease. Your friends must’ve noticed you because they were all staring at the two of you in awe, sharing drinks together, leaning into each other. Then ‘Someone New’ by Hozier began to play. Oh no. Any slow song that played while you were next to a man was a recipe for disaster. The mystery man ,on his high, pulled you closer. “Oh no, I can’t go out there!” You said. “Come on, what happened to that confidence I saw earlier?!” He laughed. “Listen, I can pick and choose when I want to be brave!” You snapped back. “Why are you so bold all of a sudden?!” “What can I say? You bring out a new side to me.” He laughed and before you could fight back, he managed to bring you to the floor. You couldn’t tell him why this was a bad idea but...maybe it wasn’t now you were in his arms, moving around the floor. He held you close and you didn’t want to leave. Not with the high of the drinks and after such a good night filled with laughter. Who knows? Maybe when you wake up the next day, you’d regret it. But for now, you were going to appreciate being here with him...but now you were filled with anticipation, you were craving something. Uh oh. You were craving him. Suddenly, a surge of confidence filled you and you looked up at him. He had already been looking at you. Quickly, he leaned in and you found yourselves kissing with a raw, fiery passion that remained unmatched. You could tell how much he wanted you. In fact, you could feel it as he pressed you against him. But you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his hair, now the heated kiss becoming lazy until you bit his lip, catching him by surprise. When you pulled back breathlessly, he smirked. “Oh shut up, I know what you’re going to say.” You playfully pushed his chest.

The hangover the next day was going to be ridiculous but you didn’t care. The mystery man had you all over him, and he? All over you.

Rain violently bounced against the wall of your office. Across you sat Maisie, who happened to be an English lecturer. You were one of the lecturers, who had just finished your PHD in Media and Cultural Studies and when offered a job at the university, you couldn’t help yourself but stay. It was decent pay after all and after three years with the university, you realised your students loved you. There were wild lecturers in the school of arts department, who overshared and gladly you weren’t one of them but your students knew you well enough to seem relatable. However, you were hoping that today they would not quiz you on your hangover. Especially your seminar classes, they really loved hearing whatever you went through. Right now, you sat at the table, head against the desk of your office while Maisie watched you groan. “Oh my god.” Was all you could mumble. This was not how you wanted to spend your first week back of the second semester. Your head was pounding violently, you were nauseous, stomach turning. The only thing saving you was the cup of coffee you had in hand, after being forced to take an espresso shot, you were still practically dead. Maisie simply sat there shaking her head. God, she had no right to judge you after goading you into going out. “You should have known not to go hard on the drinks!” “But...free…” The words fell from your lips. “Javier gives free drinks all the time, I’m surprised it doesn’t get him fired. You should’ve known, he did this last time. Actually, that reminds me, where did you go last night?” And then you remembered. You went off with a mystery man, an incredibly handsome mystery man. That, you were fortunate enough to remember. With your head against the table, you smirked, so your friend wouldn’t see. “Don’t pretend as if we didn’t see you walking off and kissing that man, who by the way is a huge score! We spent all night fangirling about him.” Maisie said with excitement but all you could do was groan again, “Come on! You have to tell me! What happened?” “Nothing happened.” You mumbled into your arms. Okay something happened but you still didn’t want to say anything. “Don’t lie to me! You have to tell me, it was my birthday, meaning you have to tell me what YOU did on my day!”

You still refused to move. As your knight in shining armour, the Head of Faculty, Andrew stormed into the room, coffee mug and binder in hand. “Right! Who’s ready for a day full of learning ladies!” Maisie laughed as all you could let out was a groan. “Oh, not you too!” He let out an irritated huff. “This is ridiculous. Seems like there’s a lot of hangovers going around this morning.” “Really?” Maisie said, leaning forward with excitement. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with the guest lecturer. He is bloody hungover too. Could hear it in his voice.” Shit. Guest lecturer. One of the senior lecturers decided to go on a research leave mid-year, which didn’t help your cause as you were left with over one hundred students needing attention. That is when the head of faculty, Andrew, who you adored, decided to call in a guest lecturer, an industry expert in the field to provide you with support. Only thing is, Andrew was unpredictable, so you didn’t know who he had in store. You only knew he was a pretty popular journalist in Europe. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting him before the class? “He said he’s going to be running late.” Thank god for that. You didn’t need Andrew screaming at you about representing the university under a negative light. Before Andrew could get to scolding you, however, your alarm went off. Swiftly, you jumped up and swiped all your folders. “Class! Got to get to class!” Was all you could muster before leaving the room, and your colleagues, incredibly shocked.

Students filled the lecture hall for the first lesson of the semester, which didn’t surprise you. There were a lot of familiar faces as usual. A couple of new ones but most of the students knew when you were out of it and these were the ones present. Andrew followed you in, watching intently, hoping you wouldn’t screw this up. But everyone knew the rules. The moment your mug was placed against the desk, everyone was silent, eagerly listening to hear from you. “Morning everyone! Welcome back, I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas break! Just know that for many of you who took my module last year, yes, I am currently in the process of grading your assignments and the results will be distributed next week. However, I am not here to talk about that. Right now, it is time to turn over a new page! So, for those of you that don’t know me, I am Dr. Y/N Y/LN. I am totally cool without the whole formal title and I am a lecturer in Media and Cultural studies and welcome to my module Introduction to Investigative Journalism. This is where we’ll be in touch with some of the world’s most notorious cases from the role investigative journalism played in the portrayal of criminals from the likes of Charles Ponzi, Pablo Escobar, Charles Bronson to female serial killers such as Velma Barfield and Judy Buenoano. We will be looking at cold cases such as the murder of Olof Palme to the story of D.B. Cooper and corruption amongst transnational and multinational companies such as the fall of Wennerstrom. I know this feels like a criminology course and having the stomach would be ideal, however this is incredibly interesting if you want to look into serious crimes and learn about political corruption. I mean I didn’t have the stomach at first but you learn to live with it.” The students laughed. Andrew was in awe of how professional you managed to be but then again that is why the university needed you. They knew you were the young voice they needed to liven things up and get students intrigued, no matter how hungover or ill you were. “ Now, as you know, Dr. Woodbridge has taken a research leave so today, I believe that Andrew has called in a guest lecturer who will be here throughout the second half of the module to provide support and as an industry expert will hopefully be able to answer the questions you all will have.”

Andrew stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear as he headed to the centre. He gave you a wink to praise the way you pulled yourself together and turned to the rest of the class. “Thank you very much, Y/N. Couldn’t have introduced the module better myself, you have me excited and I’m not even taking it! Anyway, without further ado, I am honoured to introduce to you all your guest lecturer today, he is an investigative journalist and co-owner of Swedish magazine, Millennium, Mikael Blomkvist!” The class gave an applause and so did you as the man walked through the door. Then your applause slowed...hang on a minute. Why did the name Mikael sound familiar? Mikael walked in with a smile, waving at the glass, sporting glasses and a warm cardigan, smiling but then he turned to you and then it hit you. This was YOUR mystery man!

[tiktaalic]

Why exactly do you see Dean as gay rather than bi? Absolutely feel free to completely ignore this ask if you don't want to go into it - it's just I've heard that interpretation a few times here on Tumblr and I'd genuinely be really interested to hear your thoughts behind it, and how you relate it to the way Dean canonically acts on the show

the pithy answer is projection! the unpithy answer is that out of 320 episodes over the span of 15 years, there is one (1) where his attraction comes off as genuine to me, and it took place fifteen years ago (cassie). i’m a lesbian, and when i was younger i had really genuine and meaningful friendships with men that i thought meant i was in love with them. they were very dear friends to me and i cared deeply about them, and they continue to be dear to me and people i care deeply about now that my head’s on straighter. so that’s that point. 

this is. going to be a long post so this is the preemptive warning to everyone who can’t read tumblr paragraphs to zip scroll.

lisa straight up reads as a lavender marriage to me. the focus for both lisa AND dean is him stepping in to be a father figure. their conversations about how much they care about each other center around how good he is with ben/how much he loves ben. there’s like, nothing where they’re smiling at each other and actually enjoying each other’s company. she’s a two night stand he’s seen 4 times in the last decade. she is dean putting on his brave face and keeping his promise. lisa’s post dean boyfriend matt is in one episode for about 3 minutes purely so he can die, but this is the scene.

so like. lisa is CAPABLE of interacting with a man she’s dating in a way that looks like they’re dating, versus. this.

so that’s that point. we’re at season six and we’ve already gone through every long term relationship with a woman dean’s been in. but let’s get really technical! let’s go through bad boys and after school special and amara to boot. 

in bad boys, robin is dean’s first real crush when he’s fifteen or so. first crush being when you’re 15 rather than in elementary or middle school? gay behavior (joke). let those among us who have not had a straight crush as a teen because they were the first person to be nice to us throw the first stone! and that’s what it boils down to for me. it’s the first time dean’s had ANY stability, and he relishes it. it would not surprise me if she’s his first real friend. she’s definitely his first real NORMAL friend. she asks him what HE likes, what HE wants to do with his life. and that’s totally new for dean! to have choices and to have his wants given consideration instead of just having expectation after expectation loaded onto him.

it does not surprise me that dean, who’s been taking a masterclass in repression and masculinity since the tender age of four, dates robin. it would not surprise me if he dated robin and was gay. of course he’s going to throw himself 100% into a relationship with a girl when he knows he’s at an age where boys are supposed to be skirt chasers, when he meets a girl and she’s NICE to him and KNOWS him like literally no one else does. all of this accompanied by the “i am a boy and have positive feelings for someone who’s a girl this MUST be romance this MUST be a crush” like. this is going to get into overshare territory for a moment i apologize but As A Lesbian when i was 15/16 i actively had crushes on girls and rational-ed them away as Girl Best Friends :) while telling everyone that the feelings i had for my boy best friends were crushes aksdkfkndf. repressed gay people are stupid and dean is MUCH more repressed than me aged 16. so. robin box ticked. 

after school special: jail for dabb jail for dabb for a thousand years i know. trust me i know. BUT. 17 year old dean who’s fully pulled on the leather jacket and womanizer persona, who doesn’t talk to anyone in his class and just hangs out in janitor closets making out with a girl who thinks his persona is hot. and when she tries to get close to him, to form an emotional connection, he panics and self sabotages. which. yes. peak straight man behavior. i’m not arguing that this little characterization bit is the pillar upon which gay dean rests, i’m saying if you’re inclined, you can nudge it into gay kid going “oh no this is too much responsibility i gotta get out of this” behavior. and i’m inclined!

amara: the amara stuff is so. hdnfdkf. it’s this primordial connection or whatever stronger than dean and amara both and yet dean’s still able to buck it a few times for [drumroll........] cas! + i don’t have any of the posts on hand but i DO agree with the whole vibe of. “i would fuck the embodiment of my destruction and horrors and failings because my self loathing is THAT strong”. also: gay af for the being of destruction with an immutable pull on you and towards you to say i will give you your greatest desire and then give you your mommy back and dip.

and then there’s the various one night stand stuff. i don’t have the comprehensive list on hand, but off the top of my head these are times when dean has sex scenes that are given huge focus:

when he comes back from hell and everyone’s gently asking if he’s fine and he’s like could a guy who wasn’t fine do THIS [tries to sleep with a bartender and or angel]. when bobby dies and dean’s hardcore mourning and hardcore drinking to the point where i think his drinking is acknowledged for one of a true handful of times in the series. just checked the transcript for that one. the morning after:

DEAN: Ugh.

SAM: You look like crap.

DEAN: Yeah, well, I feel worse than I look. I do recommend the Cobalt Room, by the way. Awesome night. Although I think I'm getting too old for this.

which. again. normal straight man commitmentphobe hitting his 30s and going hmmm.... perhaps real connections would be nice? but that doesn’t contradict gay dean at all, it slots in. also this is season 7. season 7 and he’s too old for this. top of my head i can think of two more similar instances: s11 baby when he groans and goes “mistakes were made”, s13 advanced thanatology when cas is dead and he’s FULL ON grieving so hard that sam takes him to a strip club. and again. he over does it. again he throws himself too hard to the coping vices and when he wakes up he’s tired and sore and has a headache. the other time he gets laid is endverse, which uh. is basically dean in 24/7 mourn drink sleep with someone mode. there are like... a handful of times he has sex For Fun, enough to count on one hand. the rest are all real easy to slap the label PERFORMANCE or COPING WITH MOURNING on.

obviously all of these points go either way - you could absolutely interpret them as legit attraction to women. you can interpret them as legit attraction to women while these instances are still coping/performance. but for me personally they all end up on the gay column instead of the bi column. um. end manifesto i think.