#while also doing something different from it

[reasonsforhope]

"Kat Abughazaleh, a 26-year-old running for Congress in Illinois’ 9th congressional district, isn’t shy about her belief that politicians need to do things differently.

“We have a representation problem,” the first line of the “About” page on her website reads.

“As in, about half of Congress are millionaires and people born before the Moon landing. And that's part of the reason we're in this mess: Our leaders are out of touch.”

A journalist, social media influencer, and political commentator that GQ called “a lefty,” with a mission to revitalize the Democratic party, Abughazaleh built a following online before she launched her campaign in March of 2025. 

But now, she’s leveraging her platform — and campaign dollars — to help people in her community before ballots are even filled in.

“My congressional campaign is feeding people right now,” she starts in a recent TikTok video. 

“Part of the reason I decided to run was because I saw how much money gets wasted in politics, and I thought, ‘What if we spent it differently?’”

She adds that the campaign is focused on “direct action and mutual aid,” emphasizing that she wanted her run for office to be “dual-purpose,” in which she can get her message out and help people in the process. 

It’s a stark pivot from the traditional way of campaigning in the United States, which often includes pricey fundraising galas, attack ads, big billboards, and perhaps the most criticized and unpopular feature: massive donations from private businesses and interest groups. 

Abughazaleh has publicly congratulated the former incumbent of this seat — 80-year-old Rep. Jan Schakowsky, who has held the title since 1999, the year Abughazaleh was born — for her “decades of service.” 

Rep. Schakowsky will not seek reelection, but Abughazaleh called for others to run, hoping to participate in the “first competitive Democratic primary in the District since 1998.”

Abughazaleh has also shared that the average donation her campaign receives is $31. And according to GQ, 1,000 people signed up to volunteer for her campaign within a week of her initial announcement.

And while that volunteering does include marketing, canvassing, and getting the word out, it mostly adds up to actual on-the-ground volunteer work to help people in the local community.

“Our kick-off event, for instance, didn’t charge $500 a plate,” Abughazaleh shared in her TikTok. “People just had to bring a box of pads or tampons, which were donated to Chicago’s period collective. By the end of the night, we had gathered over 5,600 period products, which went to people who can’t afford them.”

Most recently, the campaign hosted a food drive for a local community fridge program.

“We asked folks to come out and donate food in exchange for a campaign yard or window sign,” Abughazaleh said. “And by the end of the day, we were able to fully stock the empty pantry and fill the fridge with frozen meals, produce, and eggs. That’s feeding people right now.”

“Don’t worry, we checked to make sure this is legal," she added. "And it is."

The campaign has also launched a High School Public Serve Grant program that encourages local youth to submit ideas for how to make the community better, and Abughazaleh’s campaign will support it with money, materials, volunteers, and her online platform...

“Something you’ll rarely see is concrete help in their communities during the campaign,” she said. “And frankly, to me, that just seems stupid. Not only do you get to help people — supposedly what you’re running to do — but it also shows what you’re about, instead of just providing lip service.” ...

“If every campaign adopted this model, then we wouldn’t be wasting money every single cycle. Every city, town, and village across America would be improved by their election process, and I think it would also get people more involved,” she said.

“We have local folks who have never voted in an election, but they joined our volunteer Discord server because they want to help, they feel like they have something to vote for.”

For those who might be inspired enough to run for office with this model, she says: Full steam ahead.

“Frankly, I would love it if other campaigns took our model. Use it, pretend it’s yours, I don’t care!” she wrapped up her TikTok. 

“Pair with organizations in your community that have been doing the work, talk with local experts, and try to spearhead any initiatives you can to show your values and help your constituents. It’s really that easy.”

-via GoodGoodGood, May 14, 2025

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── UNZIP ME ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

𐙚 pairing: nerd!rafe x perv!reader

𐙚 summary: rafe has difficulty undressing you.

𐙚 warnings / tags: smut, some fluff, MDNI!

𐙚 author's note: based on a video sent by nerd!rafe’s #1 stan @raahosh i hope you like it queen <3

PERV MASTERLIST 𐙚 RAFE MASTERLIST

after you and rafe started dating, your favorite part about going out was no longer the part where you’d flirt with everything that moved. it was no longer about batting your eyelashes at some poor bastard and making him think you’d be going home with him if he bought you and your girls a round of shots.

no.

you never thought you’d become one of those girls, but somehow, when you fell in love with rafe, your favorite part about going out was coming back; even better if the place you came back to was his dormitory.

you’d sneak into your boyfriend’s dorm with your heels in your hand, still wearing the dress you’d worn out that night. rafe would boil some water while you changed into one of his shirts that were too big on you (usually something related to star wars). he’d pour the boiled water into two noodle cups, and help you take your makeup off because you were ‘too tired’ when in reality you just liked having him take care of you.

the two of you would then cuddle up in his bed, eating your cup noodles while you told him anecdotes about your night, all the while some show was playing on his laptop.

this time was different, though. not only were you missing rafe, but you were craving him. the entire time you were at the shitty packed nightclub with your girls, only thing you could think about was him. it got so bad you ended up scrolling through your gallery for pictures of you and him.

finally, when you’d had enough, you decided to just tell your friends a little white lie about how you were feeling nauseous, and got an uber back to the boys’ dormitories.

soon enough, you were behind rafe’s door, your boyfriend’s eyes widening when he saw you standing there, “what are you-”

you interrupted his sentence by pressing your lips on his in a heated kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. rafe moaned into the kiss, slamming the door shut so loudly it must’ve awoken a few other people residing in the dormitories, his touch making you feel drunker than the remnants of alcohol still in your veins.

your hands were on his hips, tugging him closer to you while also pushing him backwards towards his bed. you pulled away from the kiss, pushing rafe down onto the bed, his pupils blown wide as he looked up at you in surprise. you straddled rafe’s lap, tugging on his hair as your chest pressed against him.

“missed you…” you mumbled, your lips pressed against his, your ragged breaths mingling together. “missed you too…” he whispered and you connected your lips with his, your lips greedily moving against his. rafe’s hands started trailing up your back, searching for the zipper of your dress.

finally, though, when he found it, the boy couldn’t seem to be able to unzip it no matter how many times he tugged on it, and you couldn’t help the grin that took over your lips, pulling away from him in a breathless daze, feeling him starting to harden underneath you.

“i have to do everything myself, do i?” you chuckle, rising back to your feet, rafe letting out a disappointed whine, his lips in a pout. you turned your back to your boyfriend, and he watched as your skilled hands slowly unzipped the dress, revealing your bare back to him, his eyes widening.

you let the black dress pool at your feet before stepping out of it, taking slow, measured steps towards rafe, his eyes shamelessly trailing over your bare chest.

you straddled your boyfriend once again, a seductive smile on your face as one of his hands cupped your breast, his thumb pressing over your nipple, the bud starting to harden under his cold hands in a way that made you arch into him.

“much better.” you grin, tilting his head back by his chin, before bringing your lips to his and sliding your hands under his shirt.

TAGLIST: @raahosh @purpleplumpudding @rafesheaven @esotericcangel @mattyskies @bakugouswaif @littlelamy

[purplesaline]

So, I've noticed when this complaint is often issued tends to be when the lack of communication requires suspension of disbelief. When something is written/portrayed really well that lack of communication makes complete sense because the character's motivations and thinking process have been well established. So let's say we know thr main characte is afraid of conflict, for example, and we get to a point where communicating with the love interest would mean risking potential conflict. If we don't understand WHY the MC is afraid of conflict, or if we don't understand how that fear of conflict impacts their life, if we don't see if happening between the MC and characters other than thr love interest for similar stakes we're probably going to struggle with why the MC isn't just communicating because it will clearly prevent conflict while not communicating will actually cause it.

And the thing is, very few romances/romcoms ever properly develop this aspect of the character because miscommunication has become an easy trope to move the plot forward. Or it could be because the author intrinsically understands why the character would act that way because it's how they'd act and it seems so natural to them they assume it's universal (and they likely don't fully understand why they do it either).

So, in response to the person above, no. They probably didn't consider that because for lots of people communicating with someone they love and value and don't want to hurt isn't actually scary and that being vulnerable comes naturally to them. So maybe it would be helpful if the story showed them that the main character feels like that, and why they feel that way. What evidence supports the character's belief that communication is scary and bring vulnerable is hard?

If you can show your audience that you'll never hear the "why don't they just communicate?! Are they stupid?" complaint again.

But also, not all conflict in a story needs to arise from a lack of communication. Maybe it's time to branch out and brainstorm some different complications. I've seen other authors do it, and do it well (even in romance novels!), and I believe in you!

"Why didn't they just communicate?? They're so stupid!" Have you considered that communicating with someone you love and value and don't want to hurt is scary and that vulnerability takes practice and that perfect characters with perfect words make the most boring stories of all

[daughterof-aphrodit]

𝕊𝕖𝕩 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕎𝕖𝕒𝕜 ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕠 ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕤

Sieun x Reader , Suho x Reader , Seongje x Reader , Juntae x Reader , Beakjin x Reader

Sieun, this guy is sex-starved. Okay, maybe it doesn't seem like it, but you know your boyfriend well. 

Another point related to this is: he simply doesn't know how to verbalize that he wants to have sex with you. We know that Sieun is a man of few words, so we know that he won't ask you directly. But he will give you THAT LOOK, you know the look I'm talking about. That bright look of his, with the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen. 

When Sieun looks at you like that, you almost fall to your knees to fulfill his wishes. 

This man LOVES to eat you out, seriously, he loves doing it. 

The first time you had sex, he didn't have enough courage to ask you to do it. But after you had sex the first time, he read about how to make a woman cum with his mouth, he learned how to use his fingers well. And after some studying, he fucked you for the first time. And my god, it was good. This guy seemed to be in heaven between your legs. He eats you out with great skill, but with affection.

After that, he became addicted to having his head between your legs.

Suho, sex with him is something very spontaneous and at the same time fun. You know how funny your boyfriend is, and this is reflected a little in the intimate moments between the two of you. HE IS VERY PROVOCATIVE. He likes to say things like: 

“Wow, my love, I fucked you yesterday, and you’re already desperate for my cock again.” 

He likes the idea of ​​fucking you in front of a mirror so he can see your expressions well. So imagine, the two of you having sex in front of the big mirror in your house, he makes you lean on the bathroom counter, while he fucks you from behind and pulls your hair, with that provocative smile on his face.

SeongJe, this man is intense. That's the best word to describe him. Everything with you two is intense. The sex, the kisses, the fights, everything. 

This guy fucks you mercilessly, and you like it of course. He's the type who loves to give you a good spanking, and makes you beg to fuck you. "What do you want, huh? Tell me." 

After some discussion between the two of you - for the same reason as always - he stops fighting for nothing. As a good apology, he lays you down on his bed, and fucks you looking into your eyes. He tries to be romantic sometimes. Distributing kisses on your neck while fucking you.

Juntae, he's so sweet to you. Inside and outside of your sex. He's the type of guy who focuses so much on your pleasure. And even though it's not your first time, he still blushes when he sees you naked. 

He loves it when you mount him, and use him for your own pleasure. He likes the feeling of being useful to you. He also loves it when you compliment him. Please do this, he's been so good to you. 

Give him a gift of kisses and slow sex after he gets a good grade on some random test. He'll love it.

BeakJin, he may be cold to others, but he is completely different with you, his baby. This man would protect you with his life, and he makes that very clear to everyone.

Having sex with him is something slow - but firm - romantic, something super intimate. You feel like a queen the way he treats you.

Sometimes he can be a little more intense, but strict, more cruel. The stress of work affects your sex. And sometimes he just needs to fuck you stupid to feel relief. He will make you cum so many times, he will want to hear you scream his name.

[chow0w]

The scorpion den is punk

walk with me... ↓

The big idea

First, let’s walk through punk: what is it? Cambridge Dictionary defines punk as “a style or culture popular among young people... expressing opposition to authority through shocking behavior, clothes, and hair.” Contrary to popular belief, it's more than fashion and music: it’s a longstanding subculture which has existed since the 1970s. While looking for more definitions of punk, I found that a lot of people were saying different things - some say punk originated as an anti-racist subculture, while others say it was anti-authoritarian first. Either way, most people seem to agree that punk is loudly against injustice of any kind.

But how does this tie into the scorpion den?

First, it's important to consider what the scorpion den is by the time we are introduced to it: a crowded sandy city populated mostly by outcasts, deserters and veterans of the sandwing succession war. Most dragons of the scorpion den (outside of the talons of power and kind of outclaws) are not wealthy by any means, with a general stance against war and authorities like the sand kingdom. So, perfect breeding grounds for a punk revolution. The ideals of the scorpion den align very strongly with the ideals of punk, and It would be very easy for punk culture to manifest alongside its subculture cousins like riot grrl and emo.

The logistics of scorpion punk

Sandwings and Skywings of the scorpion den would probably be the first purveyors of punk, with both tribes heavily affected by tyranny, war and authoritarianism around the same time (Sandwing succession + Queen scarlet both come to power in the same..ish... timeframe.) I imagine these dragons talked a lot in the den, realized they had something and common and began accessorizing to identify each other or themselves. The harsh, loud, spiky appearance gives a distinct style, while also making it harder for other dragons (or guards!) to grab hold of these dragons during a fight - which they would likely have a lot of. Wood was burnt to make charcoal, which could be combined with oils or water to make a cheap, effective dye when squid ink imports were unavailable/too expensive. Spikes were fashioned from cactus thorns or cheap smelted metals, sometimes even sewn into the scales for that extra weaponry.

These functional design choices must've caught like fire to a dead tree, becoming more and more popular until they were a commonality across the punks of all tribes. Eventually, Scorpion punk became more creative - dyes and paints were used on sandwing frills, and thin black linens could be pulled over the neck or arms to create a fishnet-like accessory. In some extreme cases, dragons would even bend or clip their frills/spikes to create a more thorny appearance.

What about the Outclaws?

The biggest issue with this idea is undoubtedly the presence of the outclaws: an authority in an anti-authority space. Most of the individual dragons that make up the outclaws would probably lean into scorpion punk: if you look at Six-claws, Thorn and Kindle, all of them could easily be punk. Still, their presence kind of disrupts the whole vibe... until you look a little closer at what the outclaws are actually doing.

As described by the wiki, the outclaws are described as a group of peacekeepers who control (and distribute) water from the oasis equally, as well as providing free meals and persistently giving resources to the scorpion den. These traits are still very comparable to punk, only softer on the anti-authoritarianism. I would suggest the outclaws are more alike a punk gang, upholding their community in spite of the mistrust other dragons have of them.

Speaking of, the general response to punk outclaws would probably be to call them posers. Its been stated in the books that some dragons in the scorpion den think the outclaws are secret recruiters for the war, and the same sentiment could easily carry over to the honesty of their punkness.

in conclusion, the punks of the scorpion den undoubtedly outlast the sandwing succession war: remaining and integrated part of their community and culture for decades to come.

If you made it this far, thank you so much for listening to me prattle! I tried to keep it short and leave room for imagination, so do with this what you will. I'll see you guys this weekend for some perfectly punk sandwing redesigns!

( ´ ω ` )ノﾞ

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Sinners and Hoodoo

I appreciate how the film "Sinners" doesn't demonize Hoodoo. As someone who grew up around Hoodoo lineages from Louisiana, Mississippi, and Georgia, and who also practices it myself, it is a breath of fresh air to see that part of my culture presented in such a thoughtful way. (Shoutout to Ryan and Zinzi Coogler for bringing Professor Yvonne P. Chireau on the production as a consultant to get the depiction historically accurate).

I personally think a lot of Christians who take issue with Hoodoo being highlighted positively are finally being presented with an alternative view from what they've been ingrained to believe is evil. Colonial religions are a type of brainwashing that many of us have been subjected to whether it is Christianity (or Islam). Black people who were forced to take on these different religions during slavery days in the diaspora did what we always do, take the worst of what we're given and transform it into something that works for us.

Black people bring the spirit to colonizer religions. It's why our ceremonies, gospel music, and ways of worship hit harder at a deeper level than white people's. We call God and the ancestral spirits down, and often, they ride us. We call it getting happy. Catching the spirit. Or the holy ghost took over. Or a Loa/Orixa chose us to ride as their horse. I've had it happen to me in New Orleans at a little club while Big Chief Victor Harris, the Spirit of Fi Yi Yi, was performing with the Mandingo Warriors. I'd been feeling 'touched" all day doing some writing research at Tulane, handling some personal spiritual work, and visiting the late great Big Chief Tootie Montana. The drums got to going, I got to dancing and shouting, and the next thing I know is...transcendence and coming back to myself.

A lot of Black people are taught to be afraid of Hoodoo even though Hoodoo practitioners sit right next to them in church. Pray over them. Take care of the shut-in. Provide food at baptisms and funerals. Teach Sunday school and sing in the choir. A lot of us practice Hoodoo ways at home and simply think , "Oh that's what my mom/dad/grandmother/grandfather/cousin/aunt/uncle used to always do." Some of our laughed about superstitions are Hoodoo. Do you clean your house and eat black-eyed peas for New Years Eve? Hoodoo. Do you burn the hair cleaned out from your comb/brush and never throw it in the garbage? Hoodoo. You don't let just anybody touch/play in your hair period? Hoodoo. Keep your purse from touching the floor? Hoodoo? Throw salt over your left shoulder? Yeah. Hoodoo ways.

All these TikTok videos going around calling "Sinners" demonic for highlighting Hoodoo as a force of good (just like the discourse over Annie being a mammy figure) has shown me that Black folks are struggling with the misinformation about us as a people that has been perpetuated for centuries. I promise you, had Hoodoo been played with in the film as an evil force, Christians wouldn't have much to say because it aligns with their biblical-taught beliefs about so-called witches/mediums/spiritualists. It's why some are tripping out and calling Michael Bakari Jordan a devil-worshipper because he was given his middle name by a Babalawo. Can't make this shit up.

I love "Sinners.". I love how it loves Blackness and Black people. I love how it connects us to our roots through music, dance, and Black American folklore. (I hope the people who believe that Black Americans don't have a distinct culture of our own--several actually-- finally shut the hell up throughout the diaspora. You know who you are). I love Hoodoo practitioner Annie Moore played by the beautiful and insanely talented Wunmi Mosaku. She played the role with respect, reverence, and joy. I feel so seen by all the cultures I'm descended from shown in the movie, from the Mississippi sharecroppers to the Choctaw people, the blues, women like Annie, Pearline, and Mary. Men like Smoke, Stack, Delta Slim, Cornbread, and Sammie.

At this point, Ryan Coogler doesn't make movies. He creates time capsule moments that will reverberate into the future. I am eternally grateful to experience it while it's happening. My Hoodoo heart is happy.

[sealsshitpostden]

Get into other fandoms, we will welcome you happily, Your feelings of attachment to the franchise ARE valid...but you HAVE to face them, and learn to move on.

I am very sure that if you ask anyone in a fandom ¨hey, i wanna get int something new, i want to get away from hp ¨ they WILL help you out, and i know i myself would too! Its always fun to get into a new hobbie...But as it stands, hp is a cancer that needs to be extirpated, please, please see it as it is...i beg of you...Others can make it easier for you, but...you have to make the choice to move on yourself. Fuck it, literally DM me if you are interested! I will get you into 7 different things that will completely take over you if you let them, i am into so many fandoms. Play limbus company if you want something gritty, yet wonderfully written, and with a fair share of silly! I have 1300 hours on that game, and its a gacha game so you WONT have time to even think about hp, or if you dont want that, try out library of ruina! it is an amazing story with a greatly designed ¨beat enemy, get to use enemy's power¨ that i think you guys might like! Lobotomy corporation also exists, if you like the thrill of overcoming impossible odds, and SCP...AND the fanbase is welcoming to an almost fanatic degree! Join us, we are totally not a cult. Get into retroachievements, play games from before you were born, or from when you were a kid but never played, some games can take months and months Play VRchat if you want to meet people or, fuck it even get into ERP, i do not care and noone else will in the slightest Balatro exists, You probably know of it. Read Percy jackson, its a classic for a reason...and fuck it, if you wanna keep at it with ¨magic school¨ you can play a minecraft modpack with some friends that is focused on magic! theres a ton of them HELL, get into writing! make your own, legally distinct magical world with your friends and enjoy yourself! Writing is great And if that sounds appealing, but too much work, Try out Dnd! TTRPGs have never, ever been more accesible, and 5e is super easy to pick up with the help of literally anyone who knows how it works, you can make your OWN magical story, where you do not even NEED to be the main character, you can perfectly play the role of a side character watching/helping the protagonists do their thing, while being equally as important if you so choose! the possibilities are endless! I have had to discard my childhood completely, I am transgender, and it was miserable...But you can do it, i believe in you! AND i do mean it, Harry potter's actor, Daniel Radcliff (Who is quite *rad*) whose entire thing was being known AS ¨guy who played harry potter¨ has manage to overcome that completely, and just does his own thing now! i love his acting even if im not a big movie gal. You can do it, you do not need your past, even if it may be a comfort, to be a worthwhile person today, to be happy. I feel like this is what people, angrily, think when they say ¨READ A NEW BOOK¨ but its veiled in so much exhaustion due to JK's horrible, horrible actions that...I feel like some people could do with this post! Anyways, have a nice day, i do mean it, thanks for reading this far.

Let me make this clear. If I see you reblogging Harry Potter, if I see you doing that "Hogwarts house" in bio bullshit, if I see you writing hp fanfic or whatever I assume you are a transphobe. "But it's my special interest!" Don't care. "But it's just fanfic!" Didn't ask. "But I'm trans!" You should know better.

Don't like it? Stop putting the works of the world's worst terf on your blog. I don't care if you pirate it, you're still giving the series continued relevance and you're publicly making yourself look unsafe for trans women to be around.

[sleepinghypnos]

The Manager (Aespa)

Named Male x Female Idol/s

Tags: Smut...

Note: (The "Male" has 13 inches long and 5 inches thick schlong, so it's size kink and it will be prominent in the story. Sorry. If you feel uncomfortable with size mentions, DNI).

Extra Note: Another series i'm not going to finish... Let's go.

Ms. Lorelei smiled at me... "Lucas, here's a new assignment for you!" She said, while pointing to the chair in her office. I was welcomed by a folder labeled "Management".

I'm looking at the files and saw the name "Aespa".

"Another one? I thought I'm done looking after idols?" I said to my dispatcher. "I already made myself clear that I'm done doing stuff like this."

She look at me and smile a little, a smile of guilt. "It will be different this time. You're going to manage a four-member idol girl group. They have huge projects waiting to be fulfilled. And you're not going to go back and forth like last time since you'll be living in the same house with them." She said as if that will change my mind. I'm done with these brats. That's why I specifically told the agency to not give me anything related to idols. I somewhat have an authority since I've been doing such a good job with my assignments.

But looks like this time I will be forced to go. "Fine." I simply said.

She handed me a key. "That's the key to your room. You'll be living with them, so you can respond to emergencies as fast as possible. Make sure to be there after three days."

"Thanks, I guess..." I stood up and went back to my house to pack my things...

I spent the next three days packing my stuff, steeling myself since I'm going to deal with brats again. But still making sure to be professional.

Then safely moved to the house where Aespa lives while they are out. I'm excited to be on the field again but at the same time weren't because of this idol management stuffs.

Since I already did this before, the dispatcher also gave me the some lists of likes and dislikes in terms of food.

I bought something for each of the four members of Aespa. They are doing some individual projects as of now. I'll be dropping by their location one by one.

Using the designated van that I'm going to be using for my managerial work for Aespa, I drove to the location of the first member.

-

Stopping by at a beach called Gyeongpo Beach located near SM Entertainment... Karina is the first member I'm going to be meeting today.

I searched for the people doing photoshoot and saw Karina with her beach attire, not some bikini or something but still beach like style. She's promoting a brand of beverage.

Aespa has 4 managers, managing each one of the members and I'm assigned to be the general manager. Her personal manager came up to me, I showed her my ID and she report to me on how the photoshoot was going smoothly and point me to the dressing room.

I went to the dressing room, putting down her food. Tonkatsu, Carbonated Soda, and Coffee Jelly. Then Karina suddenly bursts through the door startling me a little.

"Oppa?!" She said, her voice filled with excitement.

"Nice meeting you. I'm your group's new general manager." I replied, extending my hand to her. Gesture of politeness.

She shook my hand and said "I knew it. I saw you before! You are Red Velvet's former manager. I can't believe it's our turn now."

"I'm glad that you are happy to see me... Well, I'm here to drop the food I prepared for you." Pointing to the table where her food is.

"Sweet! I like these! Thank you so much, Oppa!" She exclaimed and hugged me. I patted her back and she let me go.

"Your personal manager told me that the photoshoot is going smoothly, keep up the good work." I said to her while smiling. "I'm assuming you are on break... Why don't you eat your food now. I can't have you starving..."

She indulged herself with the food I prepared for her. Humming and cutely dancing while eating. Karina finished her food aside from the Coffee Jelly...

"I thought you liked Jelly? Is Coffee Jelly not part of it?" I genuinely asked, if she doesn't like it, I can removed it from the Jelly options.

"No, it's just that... It lacks cream!!!" She said to me that raised my eyebrow...

"What do you mean?"

"Just sit on the sofa, and I'll get the cream myself." She knelt between my legs...

This time, I already know where this is going... It's the main reason why I don't want to work with idols anymore... These girls are sex deprived, with their dating ban, they can't see or date anyone, they don't even have the time to actually date since the media would be on their asses if they saw them with someone.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked her as she unbuckles my pants.

She nodded. "I was so happy to know that you are going to be our general manager, Red Velvet unnies always brags about you... I'm so curious why they praised you so much."

And with that she successfully freed my cock from it's enclosure.

"I think I already know why they praised you..." She said stroking my non-erect cock... "You are already big 'soft' but you are for sure a grower..."

Karina then strokes my cock, making it grow longer and bigger... She can't close her hands while holding my member, her soft delicate fingers can't wrapped around it properly...

"I knew it! We got a grower!" She exclaimed, shock is audible in her voice. She measures it with her forearm and smiled as if she hit a jackpot when she saw how big my cock is compare to it. "You're so fucking massive, Oppa!"

"Where do you even learned that?" I asked as I watch her make my cock harder.

"Sooyoung-unnie!" Karina casually claim.

After answering, she immediately dove down and engulfed my cock with her warm mouth. She bobs her head, I can tell that this is her first time sucking dick...

I let her do her own thing, with her own pace...

My hands on her head, guiding her a little but she's still in control of her actions.

She gained confidence with how I reacted and starts going for a deepthroat. I can feel the tip of my cock slamming to the back of her throat.

Her unrefined fellatio makes this encounter a material for domination.

I stopped her from deepthroating me. "Let me..." I simply said and she nodded, already know what's going to happen.

I held her head in place, slowly thrusting back and forth in her mouth... "Here I go!"

GLUCK!! GLUCK!! GLUCK!! GLUCK!! GLUCK!!

The sound of her gagging on my massive cock filled her dressing room. I threw my head back, enjoying the warmth of Karina's mouth. I keep thrusting into her throat until she can take half of my massive cock.

GLUCK!! GLUCK!! GLUCK!! GLUCK!! GLUCK!!

Her eyes rolled back as her throat convulsed around the brutal invasion, her body shuddering in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The forceful thrusts sent shockwaves through her entire being, making her feel like she was drowning in the abyss of my massive cock.

Gagging reflexes kicked in, but Karina's perseverance allowed her to relax enough to take it deeper—her jaw unhinging further with each merciless plunge into her esophagus.

"Aaaaahhh... F-fuck...!" She struggled to maintain composure, desperate not to gag or choke on my unrelenting assault.

As I continued ravaging her throat, Karina's mind disintegrated into a haze of lust and submission. Her vision blurred from the intense pressure building behind eyelids that threatened to burst at any moment. "Y-y-you're going too fast...!" She whimpered between gulps for air.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she felt herself reaching critical capacity—her throat straining under the relentless pounding. The intense sensation made her own arousal peak, juices dripping from her quivering slit.

"P-please... Oppa... don't make me choke..." She begged, voice muffled by my monstrous cock.

GLUCK!! GLUCK!!

Despite the danger of asphyxiation, Karina's addiction to my massive cock kept her consuming it with reckless abandon—her body responding only to the primal urge for more.

"I'm close!" I said to her. Still thrusting into her throat. "I'M CUMMING!!!"

Karina's eyes widened in shock as the first thick ropes of cum began to erupt from my cock, flooding her throat and stomach with a deluge of hot, sticky seed. The sheer volume was overwhelming, causing her belly to swell grotesquely as I pumped load after load directly into her gullet.

GLUCK!! GLUCK!!

Her mind reeled at the sensation—her body convulsing involuntarily as she struggled to swallow the torrent of jizz pouring down her esophagus. "Aaaahh...! F-fuck...!" She gagged and sputtered, tears streaming down her face from the intensity.

GLUCK!! GLUCK!!

The feeling of my massive cock pulsing inside her stretched-out throat sent waves of pleasure coursing through her veins. Her own arousal peaked intensely—juices gushing from between her thighs as she came undone. "OOOOH!! FUUUCK!!! SHIT, OPPAAA!!!" She moaned around my shaft, voice muffled by the relentless stream of cum.

As I continued to unload deep inside her stomach for what felt like an eternity, she could feel the pressure building in her abdomen. Her belly distended obscenely, looking ready to burst at any moment. "P-please... Oppa... it's too much..." She whimpered weakly, barely able to form words through the haze of pleasure and pain.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you pulled out with a wet pop. Karina gasped for air desperately as thick globs of cum spilled from her abused throat and splattered onto her heaving tits. "Haaahh... haaahh..." She panted heavily, body trembling from the intense experience.

She looked down at her seemingly full stomach—stretched taut by the sheer volume of semen inside—and groaned softly. "S-so full..." She mumbled deliriously before collapsing back onto the bed in a boneless heap. "I still have a photoshoot, you jerk!" Karina playfully smacked my thigh.

"I ask you if you are sure about this..." I replied. "What a first day back to the field."

"Woooh!" She's still out of breath but still have the guts to smirk at me. "Thanks for the cream, Oppa."

I help her fix herself, and someone knocked on the door. "Ms. Karina, It's time for the photoshoot again."

"See you at our house later..." Karina said and gave me a peck on the cheek.

I look at the clock and it's time for me to go to the next member... Giselle

[harmoonix]

Random Astrology observations 🖤

🖤 Pluto - Mars aspects in a chart can indicate attracting controlling people in your life, people who can abuse you for power/gaining something from you

🖤 Having Neptune in the 12th house or 1st house = having issues with realizing who you are, personality/identity disorder, feeling empty from the world

🖤 If a fire Mars wants you to chase them in a love relationship, trust me, they love you deep for that (lol)

🖤 Neptune - Sun aspects in a chart can make the native feel 'invisible' at times, feeling like people are ignoring you or that people forget about you

🖤 North Node in the 10th house can build their way up to success. Is a wealthy placement and can indicate following the footsteps of fame

🖤 North Node in Leo or Aries are big indicators of focusing on yourself. Loving yourself. And the most important to find your power

🖤 North Node in Sagittarius or Aquarius tells you to be yourself. To be everything you want to be. To be special in your own way.

🖤 Scorpio Venus can often share their affection while being physical, can also be their love language, and for Scorpio, which is related to the 8th house of intimacy, it can be important

🖤 Ceres asteroid in water signs can share the same things. Intimacy is so important, but for these, it can also be a healing key

🖤 Ceres aspecting Sun have a warm/sunny personality, you fall for their kind nature, generous natives

🖤 Natives born on a full moon tend to have really big and challenging lives. With all of these, you are meant to do something meaningful

🖤 Jupiter in the 1st, 5th, or 9th houses can make the native a spiritual guru. They can embrace their spiritual skills more early in life. Wise native and often embodying the 'old soul' archetype

🖤 In a love relationship, it is said that if both natives share the same moon phase, they can be twin flames (which is different from soulmates).

🖤 Jupiter in good aspects with Venus is a hidden blessing. Harmony follows you everywhere like a lullaby, and you tend to be more open to finding yourself than finding a lover

🖤 Your boundaries are often found within your 6th house, and of course, the sign/planets can talk about how you put these in practice

🖤 North Node in the 5th house is all about finding your creativity. It is a magical placement of self-expression. Art flows through your veins

🖤 Gemini, Aquarius, and Libra on the 5th or 7th house can indicate communication is important for you while being in a relationship. Social couple

🖤 Sagittarius over the 5th and 7th house, indicates you want someone open-minded in your relationships, ride or die feeling, and I love these too much

🖤 If you have these Virgo Placements (Chiron ,Moon, Saturn), everyone expects you to make no mistakes and to be a perfectionist at everything

🖤 Libra and Gemini Placements, especially in big 3, embody the artisan archetype doing your own things, crafts, art, work of ehtic, etc

🖤 Libra Men tend to have the look of a fuckboy on their face even if not all of them are like that. But you can feel the energy

🖤 I don't generalize, but ppl who look after hookups or one night stands don't have their 5th or 8th house evolved

🖤 Chiron in Cancer or Moon in the 1st house can make the native appear more vulnerable. This is due to these placements turning more soft over the 1st house of identity

🖤 Embrace more of your spiritual side if you have lots of Jupiter or Sagittarius in your chart. Is a soul journey

🖤 Chiron in the 4th house is a big indicator of ending something bad within your bloodline. It can appear such as: toxicity, hate, rejection, and many more, and also Chiron at 4° 16° 28° degrees

🖤 Jupiter aspecting Sun (even in harsh aspects) appears as kind people. They radiate a calm energy and positiveness

🖤 Pluto Saturn and Lilith in the 11th house can end up to be such 'betrayed placement. Of course everyone can be betrayed but there are also some placements who can indicate it

🖤 Your sidereal Moon sign can show how good you are at controlling your emotions/feelings when you're alone and how you process them

🖤 Pluto in the 1st house can indicate being abused/manipulated or used from a young age. From this coming the all the power from Pluto. Because in the 1st house is indeed very powerful

🖤 Have a good everyone! Stay safe and take care!

[satorus-princess]

epiphany

synopsis: the moment jjk men realise that they are in love with you.

characters: gojo, geto, nanami, ino

a/n: guys i struggle to write geto so much please tell me if he's ooc also ino is so precious <33

ˋ°•*⁀➷ satoru doesn't allow himself to fall in love easily, not with his fears of losing those that he cherishes most. in all honesty, he was even afraid to ask you out on a date - not because he was scared of rejection, but because of what the future would do to him. life has never been kind to him, after all.

sweaty hands hesitant to reach for yours, an infinity of his fears that was separate from his infinity technique, preventing him from becoming too affectionate with you. a constant longing in his eyes that formed from his fervent desire to let himself get close to you, to let you come close to him. but he couldn't, not when letting you get close to him means you inching closer to death because you'd become a target.

so, when he realises that he's no longer fearful, he also realises that his fondness for you is no longer something fragile. it's something powerful, unbreakable, yet almost foreign. and if anyone dared to look in your direction in the wrong way, he wouldn't hesitate to take their life.

patience and understanding is all that you have ever shown him, never critical of him keeping his distance or being too reluctant. he needs time, to trust, to know that he's safe, to share some of his silent burdens. it's difficult when he was brought up with the instilled idea that he's different from everyone else.

but he isn't. he's human, too. and that's how you always make him feel. a human capable of love. and he loves you. willing to place his unguarded heart into the palms of your gentle, careful hands.

even with his red, puffy, vulnerable eyes, runny nose, and trembling lips, you still look at him with so much warmth and... is that love he sees peeking in your eyes?

ˋ°•*⁀➷ geto isn't easily impressed. he doesn't bother to, well, bother with anyone without reason. except for his daughters, of course. there's nothing more he loves in the world than them

it's hard to find someone he trusts them with while he's doing his usual cult business, sometimes not wanting his girls to be around for that.

over time, though, he found that he was beginning to trust you. not only were you a good assistant, but you were also good with the girls. you'd watch them and make sure they're happy while geto is in his "meetings". and eventually, he couldn't suppress the affection he felt towards you no longer, deciding to give you a chance.

and fuck, was he glad that he did.

otherwise he would've missed out on moments like this - the three of you sit on the sofa in front of the tv which plays some disney film (one with a rapunzel or something like that, which is where they got the idea to braid geto's hair and weave colourful flowers into it). nanako is tucked into your right side and mimiko on your left. the screen flashes onto your sleeping faces.

his heart practically melts at the sight as he quietly steps over the nail polish bottles and bracelet-making set sprawled on the floor. he dismisses the mess, leaning down to press a kiss to each of your foreheads. he could get used to coming home to this.

you stir awake, squinting an eye open to find geto standing in front of you with a softened smile, natural and sincere, as he carefully tucks the blanket around all of you.

“hey, you're back,” you murmur. you dig into the pocket of your hoodie, pulling out a beaded bracelet with letters on it. “the girls made one for all of us. it's all of our initials on each bracelet.” and oh, he couldn't stop thinking about how much he ached to change your initials.

geto never took off that bracelet, making sure to never lose it. and he also made sure to never lose one of his girls, including you.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ nanami has always been enamoured by you. he's never believed in love at first sight because, despite catching his attention when you first met, his feelings towards you gradually grew. from your first day when you bumped into him and almost spilt coffee on him, which ended up on your blouse instead. and he, thankfully, had a spare shirt that he offered for you to wear.

he does, however, believe in fate because of you.

because how could one read him so well and fit with him so perfectly as if your souls are already intertwined? he knows he isn't the most expressive person, but you still manage to know what he's thinking, what he needs.

he also viewed himself as an independent person, used to not having another person in his space and cooking for one. but he grew accustomed to your presence relatively fast. you brought such light into his life - not a bright, blinding light that one might think; more like the soft glow of a lighthouse, guiding him through the monotonous, sometimes stormy, days.

he began to find himself craving your company. his heart aches in a way it never has before and he doesn't remember the last time he cared about someone to this extent. or if he ever even cared about someone this much. with his busy schedule and focus on work so that he can finally retire, he didn't really have or make much time for anything personal. until you, of course.

and he doesn't see you as an obstruction to his life plans; you complement them. he's able to spend time with you and focus on his work at the same time because you keep him company while he works, bring him homemade food which he'll always eat even if you aren't the best of cooks. and when you fall asleep on his lap in his chair, head resting on his shoulder, he can't help but smile tenderly. he feels his heart pick up pace - unusual for him - and he realises that perhaps everything is worth it because of you, for you.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ ino, such a lovesick puppy. he's been in love with you since the two of you were only best friends, but he doesn't even realise he's in love until long after. sure, he had a crush on you and he's aware of that, but your heart captured him unknowingly over time.

he had the brightest smile, putting the sun to shame, when you agreed to go on a date with him. and then, a second, and another, and another. he'd go back to his dorm feeling giddy, heart warm and fluttery like a hummingbird, mind racing with thoughts of only you and where to take you on the next date. and he would already be texting you about another date.

one of your favourite places to go to together was the park in the evening so that it was mostly empty. he sat with his legs crossed, leaning back on one of his hands as the other hand feeds you crisps. your head lies on his thigh, legs outstretched along the grass. he's gazing down at you, his heart totally not threatening to jump out of his chest.

and it's one of the many moments that he makes you laugh and you're almost tearing up with giggles, and oh my god, i made her laugh. and since when did your eyes look like they were created from the prettiest of jewels? and your smile, your smile. it's directed at him. those smile lines pierce right through his chest and become engraved into his heart.

he loves your laugh, your eyes, your smile. he loves you.

oh, i love her.

“i've been waiting for you to say that for so long,” an angel speaks.

oh. no, it's you. and he realises he might have accidentally let the confession slip out. he was so caught up in his daze he didn't notice the world around him - or even himself, for that matter. his focus was only on you, his angel.

“... did i say that out loud?”

[saintsanddevils]

Void & Omen

Bob Reynolds/Void x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you meet Bob, that deadly power inside of you stirs, recognizing something just as equally dark and powerful in him. After all, like calls to like.

Warnings/Tags: Thunderbolts movie spoilers, no use of Y/N, blood & gore, dark thoughts, soulmates, canon typical violence & swearing (series will contain eventual smut)

Author’s Note: Reader’s powers are inspired by “The Bonds That Tie” book series by J Bree.

Word Count: 5K

Also posted on AO3

Masterlist • Part Two

————

A Few Weeks Ago…

There is something wrong with me. There always has been. Something that sleeps beneath my skin, waiting, watching. It slithers and coils around me, settling in my ribs as I breathe. It raises its head when it senses the rising tension around me, ready to strike. But I can’t let it.

If I do, we’re all dead.

That’s why I’m here, strapped to a hospital bed in the middle of Malaysia, as far from home as I can get. The bindings around my wrists and ankles are tight enough to hurt, but it helps to keep the cloying fear at bay. The pain grounds me, reminding me why I’m here. Why I chose to be here.

The doctors and scientists run around me with clipboards and beeping monitors. They observe and report. They whisper and nod. I’m just something living and breathing before them, something expendable.

Maybe I always was.

You’re a murderer. You deserve worse.

I flinch, my wrists twisting against the bindings. These thoughts… They’ve been growing steadily darker and louder ever since…

I swallow. Breathing in and out, slowly, remembering what my shitty therapist from childhood used to instruct me to do when panic surged through me like a tidal wave I was drowning in.

I can’t let that happen, not here. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Not when they’re going to help me.

A familiar doctor catches my attention as she approaches my bed. Her smile and cadence reassuring. “It seems the results on your charts align with what we’re looking for. Everything is good to go. Are you ready to proceed?”

Nerves rumble in my gut through my veins, but I shove it far from my expression as I try to give her as much of a confident smile as I can. “Yes.”

She must see something in my face that has her smile wavering. She casts a quick look at the other doctors before stepping forward, leaning down to my eye level. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It’s completely voluntary. You can opt out whenever you want, but after this, you won’t be able to say no. It’s no longer a trial period. This is the real thing. Something you can’t escape.”

Escape.

The word echoes in my mind like a familiar tune I’ve grown accustomed to all my life. Something I’ve heard, like a lullaby that reverberates through my skin and settles in my bones. I’ve been running for so long, escaping is all I know how to do.

But for once, I don’t want to escape.

I give her a firm nod, determination settling my nerves. “I’m sure. Trust me.”

She stares a moment longer before nodding, squeezing my hand before turning to the other doctors and speaking with them.

While they surround me, poking and prodding my skin with various needles, hooking me to machines, I’m reminded of lab rats. How they’re used for experiments to see if drugs would be harmful or helpful for the human body. I feel like a lab rat with the attention and cold distance they put between me and their research.

The poster I saw on the street last week for this trial was ominous and off-putting, but it didn’t stop hope from budding like a small seed growing in my sternum. It bloomed the moment I stepped into the building, volunteering for this medical research study on the human body.

After speaking with many different doctors, it seemed they could… help me. Fix me. Make me whole again.

For years, I’ve felt this hole in my chest where blood, muscle, and tissue should be. Instead, it’s something rotten and coiling, full of regret, devastation, and grief. It’s planted there ever since my sister died touching my skin after pulling my hair and calling me names. It grew and grew, poisoning me when fear controlled those around me. It was palpable, tasting bitter on the tongue. My parents feared me the most. Maybe that’s why their deaths sent me fleeing in the night, afraid and lost. Hoping to escape what I’ve become.

The doctors say whatever is inside of me can be cured. That this curse will no longer plague me.

As the anesthesia hits and my consciousness fades, that hope rings through me with a song so unfamiliar and poetic, I fall into the dark with open arms.

————

The In-Between…

The dark welcomes me, enveloping me as if we were old friends. I drift and dream.

And with dreams, come nightmares.

“What have you done?!” The words echo from a woman who looks so familiar, I can’t quite grasp exactly who she is.

A small body lies broken and lifeless before me, their eyes vacant and hollow, dripping black as if their tears are made of ink. Their skin glassy, as if they were a broken doll.

The woman continues to scream at me and when I stare back, she pales, stepping away from me. “What are you…”

I try to comfort her, stop her, help her, but she shoves away from me.

“This is your fault! You’re a monster!”

The dream morphs and fades, but the echo of the word “monster” rings through the dark. It’s only when the dream leaves that I realize the woman is my dead mother.

A new dream surfaces, this one just as suffocating. I’m trapped in a glass box. Sharp, needle-thin knives poking into my skin with every movement I make. Blood coats every inch of me, dripping from my skin. My eyes sting and my breaths come sharp and ragged. Voices echo outside of the box. I can barely make out the shapes of doctors and scientists and strange familiar faces all staring down at me.

“She deserves this.” One says, loud enough that it makes me flinch.

“Witch,” another spits.

“Murderer.”

“Monster.”

The term is so familiar, it doesn’t hurt as it should, but the knives ensure it does. They move, slowly, deliberately, sinking further into my skin. I scream and scream, but each word, every curse they hurl at me, it makes the blades cut deeper.

“She’d be better off dead.”

Tears fall fast down my cheeks, but it doesn’t stop the blinding pain from the sharp knives shredding me apart. Blood flowing down my limbs and pooling at my feet. Outside the box, they laugh and mock.

Please, I plead into the void. Please end this.

Please.

Something shifts. The hairs on my arms raise and there’s a strange sense of awareness. Like there’s something… other here.

Like I’m not alone.

“STOP.”

The dream-induced voices still at the command. When I look up from the puddle of blood at my feet, they’re gone. Shadows and dust in their wake.

When the pain disappears, so does the glass box and the blinding white room. Instead, raging wind caresses the stinging of my limbs. And when I glance down, the blood is gone. My arms and legs don’t sting or hurt. It’s all… gone.

In this new dream, I’m standing atop a cliff overlooking a restless sea.

This… This feels far more real than any dream before. Even before the blinding pain, this feels more solid. As if I’m actually here. The cold wind, sharp and unrelenting against my exposed skin. The clouds hanging heavily above with the smell of fresh rain in the air. It feels very real.

Too real.

“There you are.” A voice, deep and ominous, catches on the breeze.

I turn to find the dark silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. I can’t see any of his features, but it doesn’t matter. Something deep in my being tells me I know him. It pulls at my center, between my ribs, and I follow this feeling until I’m standing before him, staring up into a face dark and encased entirely in shadow. But his eyes… like living embers, they pierce into me. As if he, too, knows me. Feels as I do.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

I feel myself smile at the stranger’s words. As if his presence brings comfort where I was lost in chaos only moments before.

“You feel so…” I trail off, lost in the piercing ember of his gaze.

“Familiar?” If he could smile, I hear it in his voice.

I nod.

He steps closer, his hand raising to smooth back a strand of hair from my face. The touch is startlingly cold. But what’s frightening is how real it feels. Skin on skin. Fingertip to cheekbone.

This isn’t a dream. Or, at least, not a normal dream.

As if reading my thoughts or the emotions flitting across my features, he cups my cheek boldly. The touch feels so natural, I lean into it. His skin settling whatever rages deep within my chest.

“We are bound, you and I,” his words are whispered, soft and claiming. “Two souls meant to be intertwined for eternity. You were never meant to be alone. You will never be alone. Not while I exist.”

I close my eyes. Tears burning up my throat, threatening to fall. All I’ve ever been is alone. Entirely alone. I’m so sick of it.

“This isn’t real,” I whisper back.

His other hand is there, firm against my other cheek. He holds me, caresses me, like something precious. Like something whole. Like something worthy of affection.

“It’s not real, you’re right,” he says. “But soon enough, it will be.”

I furrow my brows. “What do you mean?”

His fingers reach to smooth the skin.

“I will find you, outside of this dream, this… in-between. And when I do,” he steps closer, forehead touching mine. “I will never let you go.”

The promise settles in my bones with a certainty I hope to hold on to.

“You’ll find me?” The hope is clear and whisper thin in my voice.

He nods against me, lips close to mine. “In every life, in every universe. Always.”

————

Present Day…

I wake in a panic. Lungs bursting as my eyes open to find I’m locked inside something that resembles a casket with a glass lid. It’s too dark to see clearly as my fingers flatten against the plexiglass, stifling anxiety clawing at my skin. Beads of sweat coat me like oil as I push and push at the glass.

Get out get out get out—

With one last shove, the lid is thrown open and crisp air hits me. I breathe deep as I crawl out of the strange crate, falling to the hard floor. Nausea rips through me and I’m hurling everything in my gut onto the floor.

There’s noise and voices around me, farther away, but I don’t care. My entire body is slumped and aching on the concrete floor. When I finally gain my senses and feel more present, I scan my surroundings. Various crates and boxes pile high around the strange casket I was lying in. The outline of my body is still there and monitors beep and sound as I try to stand. My legs are shaky, breaths coming rapidly, but I’m here. I’m… alive.

Why is that such a shock?

I stare down at the casket, trying to recall how I got there. The last thing I remember…

I remember lying on a table, talking to scientists and doctors about my condition. About the trial they would put me through. I remember strange dreams… but as I reach for them, they fade from my grasp. Typical.

“I-I-I’m Bob,” a voice sounds from farther in the room, but it’s so familiar, I still. “I told you, I’m, uh… Yeah, Bob.”

“Jesus Christ, stop saying Bob.” Another voice huffs in annoyance.

On shaking legs and bare feet, I creep around a stack of crates to find a group of strange-looking people. Three of them are dress heavily in gear and armor, guns pointed at a man in hospital garb, similar to my own. His dark wavy hair hangs in his face, framing pale features as he holds his hands up in surrender. His hands shake and his voice trembles as he stands there, watching as the three others bicker.

Something is frighteningly familiar about this man. Maybe that’s why I step forward without thought. When my feet move a gun shell on the floor, it alerts the others to my presence.

Guns whip around and are pointing at me within seconds.

“What the hell?” A tall man with a shield and mask shakes his head. “How many of these guys are in here?”

The short blonde woman near him points her gun at my head. “Who are you?”

I furrow my brows, raising my hands in surrender like the other guy. “Who are you? I just woke up in this place and I barely understand what’s going on.”

She slightly lowers her gun, most likely sensing I’m not truly a threat. Before she can answer, the other woman, this one with dark hair, strides forward. “I’m not sure what’s happening here, but you’re all exhausting, and my job is done.”

She tries to move away towards the large doors, but the blonde raises her gun at her. “Well, see my job is to keep an eye on you. So no, you’re not going to go anywhere, anymore.”

While they bicker and threaten, I lower my hands and glance over at the other guy— Bob, if I heard him correctly earlier. He’s staring at me with furrowed brows and pinched lips. When our eyes meet, something inside of me, that thing that coils beneath my skin, stirs.

How do I know him?

“Okay,” the blonde’s voice catches my attention as she points her gun away, raising her hands. “It’s clear we have all worked for Valentina in some sort of shadow ops capacity.”

Who the hell is Valentina?

I look back at Bob and he’s still staring at me, lost and confused. When I catch his eye, he looks swiftly away, fingers twitching as he shifts from foot to foot. Something in me wants to step forward and smooth the confusion from his face, reassuring him. That scares me more than the guns and weapons still being pointed in this room.

“Yeah, so?” The masked guy speaks up with obvious annoyance.

“So, all of this stuff is O.X.E.’s secrets. But, so are we.”

I look around at the crates. Secrets… O.X.E. was the name of the company I trialed with. I didn’t think much of it at the time, just hopeful that someone could help me. Maybe even save me.

I catch sight of another open casket not far from the doors, but this one isn’t mine. My eyes flit to Bob again, to the matching patient clothes I also wear. He looks just as disoriented and cautious as I do. Did he do the trial as well? What did he want? To become something more?

He’s no longer looking at me, but I can sense he’s still very much aware of me. Every breath I take. Just as I am of him. Instead, he watches the armed group come to a steady realization.

The dark haired woman nods her head. “Which makes us liabilities that no one would miss.”

“Well, speak for yourself.” The masked man, who’s really starting to annoy me, scoffs.

“Don’t you see? We are the evidence and this is the shredder,” the blonde emphasizes. “She wants us gone.”

They continue to argue, but it seems they won’t kill each other anymore. At least, for now.

As they talk and bicker, something inside of me shifts. The air begins to smell of sulfur, the temperature slowly rising. It’s subtle enough that normal human senses can’t tell the difference, but it’s enough to make me still, assessing. I glance around, noticing the large vats in the ceiling above us. They’re big enough to take up the entire roof.

Just as I realize what we’re standing in, it dawns on me. That thing inside of me, the thing I’ve felt beneath my skin, in my ribs, in my head— it’s still there.

They… I swallow, panic creeping up my spine at an alarming rate. They didn’t cure me.

The blood drains from my face as I step back, bumping into a crate. The group stills at the sound, whirling to me with various alert expressions.

“What’s going on with her?” The dark haired woman questions.

And suddenly, that thing in my chest, in my head, in my skin, it talks to me.

Her name is Ava Starr.

I almost fall backwards at the sound. I stare wide eyed at the woman. At Ava.

“Okay, you’re really starting to freak me out.”

My head swivels to the masked man and the voice is back. John Walker, former Captain America.

My chest begins to vibrate with heaving breaths. The room feels entirely too small and an incessant pounding continues in my ears. I grip at my chest, wondering if I rip at my skin and muscle, tearing at the bone, I can finally take whatever is inside of me, out.

“Breathe.”

The word echoes in my head, but it’s not my own. Not the same voice that was speaking before. No, this one is deeper, masculine.

My eyes catch on Bob again. Only this time, he’s staring at me with a level, sure gaze. Something steady and sure. Something grounding.

That thing inside me stills. It breathes at the command. It releases the tension in my muscles, the shaking in my limbs. It steadies me.

Whatever beast or monster hidden beneath my skin is tamed by that voice. And it’s curious and awake, vibrating in my chest like a living thing.

I ignore the feeling, hoping it goes away as I tear my gaze from him. Hoping this strange feeling of wanting to be closer to him will dissipate.

The blonde with the heavy accent raises a brow at me. “You alright?”

Yelena Belova, former Red Room assassin.

“We need to get out of here,” I whisper, but it’s loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

The masked guy, John, shakes his head. “Yeah, no shit.”

“No,” I shake my head. “Can’t you feel it? The temperature is rising. It’s getting hotter in here.”

The group looks around before seeing the open vats above us.

“I think we’re in an incinerator,” Ava confirms.

“They’re going to burn us,” Yelena nods. “Destroy the evidence.”

“How would you know?” John calls out, clearly annoyed.

She gives him a bland look. “Why else would she send us here to kill each other? We’re obviously everything Valentina doesn’t want tied to her. We’re expendable.”

Dread pools in my stomach at the notion. Burning alive is not how I envisioned how I would die.

“Well,” Ava sighs. “I’m not sticking around to burn.”

In seconds, Ava is gone. Disappearing entirely as if she were a ghost.

Suddenly, blaring alarms ring through the room. I curl into myself, holding my hands over my ears. The sound rattles whatever is in me and the veins in my arms catch my attention. They shift from their normal blue to a deep navy to black before shifting back to normal again. It’s constant as the alarm rings and pulses against my skin.

I stare in horror. What the hell?

When the alarm finally stops, I glance up to find Bob is closer to me. His dark eyes are on me, on my arms, and I notice a strange gleam in his eyes that flashes before sputtering out like a dying fire.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

I stare a moment longer, wondering if I imagined the flaring ring of light in his eyes. I slowly nod. “I’m fine.”

He stays assessing me, as if… as if he’s ensuring I really am alright. As if he truly cares.

Ava is now shaking and holding her own ears in front of the still-sealed door. She pants before turning to the rest of us.

“Thanks for that,” John huffs. “Looks like none of us are leaving.”

Just as he says that, the lights flicker and new light casts the room in dark crimson. The air begins to fill with the smell of sulfur and ash. A clock begins to tick in the room. Red numbers next to one of the doors starts to count down. And it’s going incredibly fast.

John sighs. “Okay, fine, it’s an incinerator.”

“Oh boy,” Bob huffs, staring up at the ceiling. “That is no way to go.”

“How would you like to die today, Bob?”

Yelena shakes her head. “We’ll need to find a way out. Look around, we have to find some sort of panel or something to open the doors.”

Bob holds a hand out to me, gesturing to help me up from my crouched position.

“Thanks,” I murmur as I reach to take his hand.

The second our skin touches, my eyes dilate and the hair on my arms raise, goosebumps spreading up my limbs. A spark of vibrating energy pulses between us. Something living and tangible. It stirs whatever lies dormant inside of me.

Like calls to like, it whispers.

Bob searches my eyes, his are just as dilated and wide. His lips part, an exhale escaping him as he stares.

“Why do I feel like I know you?” He whispers.

I hesitate, but the confession slips from me like water through fingers. “You feel it too?”

He nods, his hand tightening around mine. “It’s strange. I don’t think we’ve ever met, but,” his eyes scan my face and it feels as if he were softly touching every part he’s looking at. “I feel like I’ve known you for a very long time.”

My breath catches.

And then, he smiles, nervous and small, a huff of laughter escaping him.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “It’s funny, every part of me tells me I know you, but I don’t even know your name.”

A small smile spreads on my lips. I whisper my name and the sound must resonate something in him cause he whispers it back, tentative and gentle. Almost reverent.

“And you’re Bob,” I smile wider. I nod to the clothes he’s wearing. “Looks like we both were looking for something more in our lives and didn’t expect this to happen instead.”

His smile freezes, eyes hardening before he swallows. “What makes you think that?”

I hesitate again, but this time, I willingly let him see that vulnerability. “I was looking for something more, too.”

He stares at me, questions flitting across his gaze.

“I found something!”

We both turn, our hands drifting apart and the live-wire energy dissipating as we find Yelena and Ava trying to open a panel on the side of one of the doors. When we make our way over, John punches the wires with his shield and Ava disappears again, shifting through the metal door.

The seconds begin to count down and the heat rises in the room. Fire and smoke start to sputter from the vats above. Unconsciously, I back into something solid behind me. Bob. His shoulder bumps into mine and his sturdy presence at my back is reassuring, calming the rising panic of being trapped in a room waiting to burn us all alive.

The clock flares in our peripheral, counting down, down, down, and the door still hasn’t opened.

“She’s coming back, right?” John’s question is full of broken hope.

My hands start to tremble, fear coursing through my veins. I can’t die here. I don’t want to die.

The thought must’ve been said aloud because Bob’s hand is sliding into mine, squeezing.

“You’re not going to die.” That voice, his voice, says in my mind. “I won’t let you.”

That pulsing energy between our skin continues at the touch. It’s comforting in this moment, even as the ticking of the countdown echoes through the room.

00:05

Bob steps closer, his torso encasing my back as the fire begins to burn brighter in the vats above.

00:04

I feel him tense, readying himself. His hand tightening in mine.

00:03

When I turn my face to look up at him, his eyes are already on me.

At least I won’t be alone.

00:02

The door screeches open, startling all of us. Ava stands before the control panel, gesturing for us to run.

Bob grips my hand tighter in his as we bolt. He pulls me with him while we run through the doorway, following after the others. I grip him tighter, ensuring we never let go.

When the incinerator fully ignites, torching everything in its wake, the pressure and velocity of the raging fire throws us all off our feet, flying forward. Rocks and stone crash above as my body slams into a wall harshly, bones and neck cracking against stone before I slump to the ground. Consciousness fades in and out, my head and body pounding with sharp bolts of pain. Just as the dark claims me, the last thing I feel is Bob’s calloused hand still cradling my own.

————

The In-Between…

I wake to the sound of screaming. The room is blinding white, fluorescent lights flickering above. It smells of antiseptic and something metallic. When the light dissipates, I see someone lying on a table, their small body convulsing. Their hair whips around as their restrained limbs and skin pulse with creeping black veins.

Realization dawns on me as I step closer.

It’s… it’s me. But I’m… much younger.

I remember this. I was nine when my power came into being. When it consumed me like a poison and sprang out of me like a disease.

Tears flow down her small cheeks as she struggles, a piece of cloth tied in her mouth to try and keep her screams quiet. I try to run forward, to help her, free her, but I’m frozen in place, my feet stuck to the floor. Something is keeping me from her.

In the corner of the room, a shadow bleeds from the white walls. It’s darkness dripping like ink as it spreads along the floor and tile. It stretches, like a hand, across the floor until it reaches younger me. She stills for a moment, before her eyes roll back into her head, veins bulging. I stare in horror as those veins begin to darken before black pulses along her skin to the beat of her heart.

I try to step away, to leave, but my legs won’t let me. I’m stuck in place, forced to watch.

From the shadows, something bleeds into the room, rising from it as if it were a doorway. They’re covered in the darkness, but it’s thick like ink or oil, dripping from their hair and skin. When the figure moves, I’m struck with the familiarity of their movement.

When their eyes meet mine, I shrink back. Their eyes are glowing chips of onyx, a black void as they stare back at me. But it’s not their eyes or features dripping in the black liquid, it’s the familiarity of their face and body. I’d know them anywhere.

Because it’s me.

I stare at myself with abject horror as they cock their head to the side, assessing me as if I were prey.

When my younger self convulses again on the table, it catches the creature’s attention— my attention. That thing that is-me-but-isn’t-me slithers forward, hovering over younger us. And that’s when I see it. The fading light emanating from the little girl’s chest. It’s faint, but brilliant. I see my other self hone in on that light.

“Stop!” I shout.

The other me stills, it’s slimy gaze meeting mine. “You cannot stop what is inevitable.”

I shake my head. “This isn’t real.”

It smiles and it’s something I’ve never seen on my own face. Something feral and hungry. “What makes you think it’s not?”

Younger me’s skin is ashen now, her dark veins bulging.

“What are you doing to her?” I try to step forward, but I’m held back, again.

The other me shrugs. “What you were born to become.”

The smell of rot and decay fill the air as the creature’s fingers trail a path up her small arm. Wherever it touches, the skin dies, withering. Nausea rises in my gut as younger me tries to twist away from her, but it’s no use. The light in her chest sputters. And when her eyes meet mine from across the room, I watch as a tear falls to the floor, her mouth gasping through uneven breaths.

“Stop!” I scream. “Stop you’re hurting her!”

The other me, the creature, tsks. “Always trying to be the hero.” It looks at me again and this time, it’s something final and knowing, like an omen. “You’ll never be the hero. You’re the one they all fear. What they’ll always fear. All you can do is embrace it.”

Her hand punches through the little girl’s chest and blood sprays the table and wall. Her scream reverberates off the walls as the monstrous version of me tears the light from her chest.

When its hand rises from the bone and muscle, blood drips down the pale skin, mixing with the strange dark liquid already coating its limbs. And in the creature’s hand, something shines bright and brilliant, like a diamond. It glitters and the light it casts feels almost sacred.

And the little girl is still. Eerily still.

“No,” I choke out, hands shaking. “No, this is wrong. This isn’t how any of this happened.”

Those pitless eyes stare into the brilliant light with awe and raw hunger. “It does not matter. It’s what you are made for. Just like him.”

I still. “Who?”

It turns their head to me, those depthless eyes void of any emotion. “Like calls to like.”

Something emerges from the darkness behind the other me. It’s form tall and imposing, a silhouette of a man. His eyes glow with a strange ember, the only light in his body made of shadow.

This time, when I step back, my feet are freed from whatever force that kept me prisoner. I’m able to back away slowly as the shadowed man tilts his head to the side, watching me.

“There you are.”

That voice…

The walls start to fracture and shake, groans echoing as the room begins to stir. The lights flicker above and everything starts to vibrate beneath my feet. The brilliant light still cradled in the hands of the dark version of me begins to sputter until it’s dim and fading. The other me takes one last look at me, scrambling against the wall, before opening her mouth and swallowing the light whole.

I tear my gaze away, only to immediately find Bob standing there, eyes wide and terrified as he stares back. I open my mouth to question him, but the room continues to crack and shake violently. The floor heaves and gives and a fissure opens beneath me, hurtling me into a swirling dark void below.

The last thing I hear is Bob screaming my name before the darkness swallows me whole.

Part Two (coming soon)

[levigarden999]

Levi x femReader Fluff

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

characters : levi ackerman , fem reader summary : after finding the sea, you and levi go for a swim word count : 1,435 warnings : nudity, mentions of sex notes : hey y'all just a small piece of fluffiness with our dear levi , have a lovely day 🩷

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

the wind was certainly colder and harder on the beach than it ever was in the inner land. especially inside the walls the wind was basically sealed away the same way the titans were, or, well, used to be.

the others had already left back to the hq, but you and levi decided to stay behind. the last few weeks had been so hectic and stressful, because of the battle in shiganshina. you two definitely needed some alone time. levi didn't however usually admit the fact he needed a break, he was still firmly a victim of the belief that rest makes a man weak. you had lectured him about this stupid belief for at least a hundred times, but it seemed like you would have to continue for another hundred, maybe even more. the man was annoyingly stubborn, even though it was one of the reasons you loved him so much.

when you did arrive at the beach, the wilder youngsters, like jean, connie and sasha took a swim. you were too shocked by the beautiful sight that it didn’t even cross your mind that you could actually swim there. the idea almost sounded crazy, like, why would someone want to swim in a dirty pool of salt water that is probably deeper than the height of the walls?

you were sitting on the cool sand, your toes deep inside the sand. as you moved your feet in the sea of tiny rocks, it tickled your soles a little in a nice, addictive way. levi refused to even touch the water, so he was still standing on your side with his arms crossed. there was no way he would even sit down, because it would get his uniform dirty and sandy.

”c’mon, levi, let’s go swimming!” you exclaimed, tugging on his leg a little. you pouted, trying to pull off the puppy eyes which he usually softened for.

”no. do you understand how difficult it is to wash sand off from your clothing?” he snapped back, his tone still cold and even. he glared down at you as he stood there and you knew better than to annoy him.

”well, take your clothes off, then” you suggested, with a smirk.

”i would still have to put the clothes back on on my sandy skin, and then the fabric would get sandy. so, no” he repeated with that same, annoying-ass matter-of-fact tone.

you were about to say something back, but he continued. ”-also, don’t even suggest washing myself in the water. i would rather not ride back to hq with salt in my ass and groins.”

fuck. you were just about to suggest that.

you stayed there in silence for a minute, until you got an idea. a devious smirk formed on your lips as you tugged on his pants again.

”levi… you remember the tea you drank a few months ago at the doctor’s office? when you were injured?” you said, a suggestive tone creeping into your tone.

”yes. it was a rare tea and the tea leaves grow only on a plant that grows in literal shit and mud. what about it?” he focused his eyes down on you again and you could see the way the scowl between his eyebrows deepened. you got him curious.

you slowly stood up and smirked, while your fingers lingered on his shoulder.

”how about i go and pick that plant up and prepare that tea for you?” you suggested with a seductive smirk. yes, seductive looks while talking about tea worked on levi wonderfully.

levi’s eyes visibly widened, and his eyebrows raised. you could basically see the way his gaze softened at the memory of the delicious tea he had drank. even for tea, he wouldn’t risk dirtying himself up like that by picking up a plant by himself in mud.

”you would? you would crawl in shit for me?”

”yes. but only if you swim with me now”

it was surprisingly easy to get levi to comply after all. you always thought levi was different from every man, but it seemed like he was the same after all. the only thing different was that you got him to comply to anything with the promise of tea, not sex. a promise of sex wouldn’t had worked, anyway, because you would’ve gave it to him anyway.

you watched as levi firstly took off his combat boots and settled them neatly on the sand, making sure they wouldn’t fall. then, he started to take off the belts on his thighs and waist. you began to do the same.

once you had managed to get everything off, you neatly folded the pieces of fabric and laid them on the sand. you stood there with your underwear, watching as levi took the last bits of clothing off. he was slightly bent over as he pulled his slacks off, and the light coming from the sun made his pale back look even more muscular than it already was. his shoulders and biceps were clenched as he pulled the material off and once it was off, he stood back straight and folded everything.

”hurry up, it’s cold.” you shivered in the wind as you had your arms around you, as if it did anything to protect you from the cold breeze. he turned his head towards you, but didn’t hurry up. however, it almost felt like his eyes took their damn time to roam over your form.

once he was done with folding and placing the clothes on the tips of his shoes, he offered his hand.

”come on. i’ll go first, make sure it’s safe” he said calmly and you took his hand. his skin was usually cold, but right now it felt warmer than usually as you two made it to the water.

the water felt cold on your feet as you walked deeper, but you didn’t care. you were focused on watching how the wind blew on levi’s hair, making it slightly messier than it usually was. his undercut had been recently shaved and it looked beautiful.

you pressed closer to his skin, for warmth. he allowed it without any words, and led you further into the water.

”brrr-” you shivered as the cold water hit above your navel, and you could basically feel it all the way inside your lungs. a few seagulls were laughing at you in the air and the sun was still bright, even though the orange tint in the sky hinted that it was getting late soon.

levi stopped walking once the water was touching your chests and he turned to you. you could see the way the almost invisible hairs on his skin were turned upwards, he was having goosebumps as well.

”you okay?” he asked softly, yet firmly. you looked at his eyes, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed like usually, but now in a caring, concerned way. he always made sure you were safe, even in situations where it was completely unnecessary. you reached your arms around him and rested your chin on his shoulder.

”’s cold, levi” you mumbled into his skin and inside the water, you felt his arms reaching around your body as well. for a second, there was nothing but the cold sensation of the unknown sea on your skin and the exact opposite sensation of warmth and safety of levi on your skin as well. the wind blew a little harder, making your hair tangle in the salty sea air. it was peaceful, it was beautiful, it was unfamiliar.

”it is, love” he whispered back, his lips gently touching the shell of your ear. you felt his hands caressing your back in the water, your bare skins wrapped around each other in a comforting way.

”let’s dip”  you suggested after another beat of peaceful, comforting silence. you pulled your head back and looked at him again. the tip of his sharp nose was slightly red from the cold breeze, and there was a hint of blue in his normally grey eyes now. the sea probably mirrored some of the color to his eyes.

”okay, but don’t let go of me, okay?” he said softly with a hint of firmness, worry in his tone. the arms wrapped around you tightened their grip a little. he was apparently worried that the sea would just suck you in and make you disappear or something.

”i won’t let go” you nodded, and for a second, there was a small smile on his pale, thin lips. you tightened your grip around him as well. skin against skin, heart against heart, human against human.

you both inhaled, and disappeared underwater.

[pazzi5351]

Can’t be friends.

Paige x Azzi

Word count: 1.2k

An: an anon asked for this and I started it yesterday then I had dance then the knicks were playing (they lost💔) and I’m just now finishing it k bye hope ya like! Also I added like no fluff and lowk leaving it on a cliffhanger cs idk what else to add🤧

————————————————————————————

Paige and Azzi had always been, different. Their parents noticed it when they first became friends. Their teammates noticed it when Azzi stepped on UConn’s campus for the first time, and Paige’s mood drastically changed.

The only people who didn’t seem to notice were Paige and Azzi themselves.

They went along with being “just best friends” though, the lines between that and something more had been crossed years before.

They went along with being “just best friends” until the glances between them lasted a beat too long. The hands on backs rested lower. And, the tension between them was so thick, people were starting to see it.

Especially their teammates.

“Ok Paige. What the hell is going on between you and Azzi.” Ice asked Paige, while watching the lobby screen of their fortnight game.

“Yeah,” Kk chimed in. “You guys are like, super, weirdly, close.”

“Bruuh. What are y’all even saying right now?” Paige asked, with an incredulous look on her face.

“We’re asking, friend to friend, if you and Azzi have something going on.” Ice said, matter of factly. “It’s totally chill if y’all do, I mean, we don’t care, we just wanna know.”

Paige slowly put her controller down, and turned to look at her friends. “There’s no way you’re seriously asking me that. Right? Me and Azzi are just friends. Why’s that so hard to believe? Sure, we’re close but, y’all are close too. It’s the same thing.”

Ice and Kk shared a look.

“No. It’s not the same honey. Not at all. I mean sure Ice and I are close but, you and Azzi, y’all are close.” Kk said, putting emphasis on the last word.

“Define ‘close’. Because since Azzi and I are just soo ‘close’, I’m sure you have examples of our ‘closeness’.” Paige said, rather defensively, for a reason she couldn’t name.

“Sure,” Ice nodded. “You open her water bottles, drive her car, when she very clearly has a license; you bring her snacks, text her asking if she ate or if she’s hungry, you bring her food without asking, you always, and I mean always, let her steal your clothes, but when I ask you say no, or you ‘don’t know where it is because last time you saw it Azzi had it.’ What else Kk? That’s all I got.”

“Oh I’ll go on,” Kk responded. “Paige, you literally have carried her out of the bar when she was ‘too tired’ to walk, I’ve watched you make snack bags for her, and for away games, you carry her bags and yours to the bus so she, and I quote from you, ‘doesn’t strain anything holding her bags because they’re heavy.’ There’s a lot more, but you look shocked right now, so I’ll let you sit with that.”

When Ice and Kk finished, Kk was right. Paige was shocked. She never realized how much she did for Azzi. All of it was just second nature to her, like taking care of Azzi was her birthright.

All she could say to her friends was “Oh.”

Ice raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Just ‘oh’?”

Paige blinked, like she hadn’t even heard the question. “I didn’t—I mean, I just… I don’t know. That’s just how we are.”

Kk crossed her arms, gaze steady. “No, Paige. That’s how you are with her. There’s a difference.”

And maybe Paige should’ve argued, should’ve denied it again. But instead, she sat there, controller long forgotten in her lap, a cold dread settling in her stomach.

Because they were right.

She didn’t sleep that night. Her mind kept playing scenes back like a highlight reel: Azzi asleep on her shoulder during the flight to South Carolina. Azzi curled into her side on the hotel bed, scrolling on her phone while Paige absentmindedly braided her hair. Azzi in her hoodie. Azzi in her car. Azzi everywhere.

And the way her chest clenched whenever Azzi smiled at someone else like she used to only smile at her.

Paige rolled over, staring at the unread text.

Azzi💗: “u up?”

She didn’t reply.

For days after that, Paige pulled back. Not enough for Azzi to call her out, but enough that the gap started to form—small, but noticeable. She stopped waiting outside practice for Azzi. She made excuses to ride with someone else. She laughed at her jokes but didn’t meet her eyes.

And it was killing her.

Because nothing had changed—but everything had.

The final crack came on a Tuesday after team workouts. Everyone else had left. Paige was gathering her stuff when Azzi stepped in front of her, arms crossed, face unreadable.

“You mad at me?” she asked, quiet.

Paige blinked. “What? No. Why would I be mad?”

“You’ve been avoiding me, Paige,” Azzi said, voice firmer now. “You don’t even look at me.”

“I’ve just been tired.”

Azzi scoffed. “Don’t lie to me. You suck at it.”

Paige’s hands tightened around her hoodie. “I’m not avoiding you.”

Azzi’s gaze narrowed. “Then why do I feel like I did something wrong?”

Paige swallowed hard. “You didn’t.”

“Then what is it?” Azzi asked, voice low. “Because if you’re gonna push me away, your best friend, at least tell me why.”

Paige shook her head. “You don’t get it.”

“Make me get it,” Azzi said, scanning Paige’s face for any type of answer. “Because I can’t fix something you won’t tell me.”

Paige scoffed and shook her head. “That’s the thing, Az. You can’t fix it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s me,” Paige said, finally meeting her eyes. “It’s what I feel when I look at you. It’s what I do, for you, without thinking; like carrying your bags, buying your snacks, giving you every part of me like it’s nothing. And it’s not nothing. Not to me.”

Azzi’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak.

Paige’s voice cracked. “I don’t know when it stopped being just friends, but I know I didn’t even notice until it was too late. And now I feel it all the time. All the time, Azzi. And I didn’t want to say it because if I do, everything changes.”

Azzi took a slow step forward. “It doesn’t have to change, P.”

“I’m scared.”

“So am I.”

There was silence.

And then Paige, barely above a whisper, said, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Azzi didn’t move. She just stood there, slightly taken aback, breathing slowly, staring at Paige like she’d waited years to hear those words.

Then, finally, “Good. Because I’m in love with you too.”

They didn’t kiss that night, no. It was two girls, with a long history together, sitting on a bench, still sweaty from practice, hands shaking slightly as they reached for each other. It was quiet. Heavy. Real.

They didn’t tell anyone right away. Not because they were hiding, but because Paige wasn’t ready to say it out loud again.

When the team asked where they’d been—when they snuck away during a night out or vanished from the locker room after practice—Paige would shrug, let Azzi answer. She couldn’t bear the teasing, the jokes. Not yet.

It wasn’t until Ice caught them in the hallway—Azzi standing too close, Paige’s thumb brushing over her knuckles—that someone finally said it.

“You’re together, huh?”

Azzi nodded slowly. Paige froze. Azzi noticed.

Ice smiled, small and sure. “Took you long enough.”

And Paige’s chest loosened, just a little.

[tzipporahs-well]

The worst part comes from when professors are totally fine and/or encourage using AI for classes and studying like in my department. As a PhD student, I hate this top down encouragement.

In a small anecdotal case study (class had 8 people including myself and the other student), one of my grad school classes and professors heavily encouraged AI use in class and for study. I refused to use any AI and I pretended to use AI in class when the professor said to use GenAI (I actually used my brain and a search engine). One of the people in the same class and lab as me used AI and encouraged me to use AI.

I got the highest scores on the exams. He got some of the lowest scores on the exams. I don’t know how much or how little other people in the class used AI. Most probably they used “assistive” AI in ranges between my usage and the other student’s usage.

It is making both professors and students much lazier, and it should be unacceptable for both professors and students to use AI in that context***. For the professors that say it’s fine: no. You are setting a poor example for students who may not have thought about using AI before and reinforcing other students’ dependency on AI. It’s especially unethical in my opinion for professors to feed their students’ work into AI without consent. If colleges and universities want to stem the plague, they need to set the example. Letting AI slide only encourages or reinforces this kind of cheating. Will it work from all the way down? No but it can prevent people who might otherwise not engage. I have other thoughts on education and core curricula since those were mentioned in the article, but that would derail the main topic.

*In certain fields like biomedical sciences (structural biology, pharmacology, biochemistry, etc.), the field gets more complex with things like AlphaFold and drug discovery. Usually the proteins have already been generated, and so you are extracting them from a database. The benefits of this tech are massive (new medications) even if the costs are also large (energy, water, and environment). Generating something myself from scratch using AlphaFold leans into that moral gray zone for me. In my opinion it differs from ChatGPT and similar because the latter provides minimal benefits for the more costs (in addition to the environmental costs, using AI in these contexts ‘rots’ people’s brains) while the former does something that we as experimenters can’t always do. Still though, I deeply resent AI for taking away entry-level high school opportunities for research (ex: radiology). People’s opinions on this may vary.

Generative AI has destroyed academia.

In the next few decades we’re going to have thousands of people who don’t really know anything, and can’t do any critical thinking.

[honeyatsu]

I can't have what I want (but neither can you) | Bob Reynolds

Bob Reynolds x F!Reader

Summary: You don't know how to explain the feeling when you see Bob and Yelena together. You don't understand it, and you don't like it. You think maybe you're not a people person, maybe you're better off being on your own. You take matters to solve this problem your own way, but everyone doesn't agree with your logic.

Stand-alone. One-shot.

"'Cause I know we be so complicated But we be so smitten, it's crazy I can't have what I want, but neither can you"

Warnings: 18+MINORS DNI. Minor spoilers for Thunderbolts! Smut (my first time writing smut deserves a warning itself tbh)

Not proof read/edited. Maybe later. Idk. I hate editing.

a/n: I am so obsessed with this man...I just couldn't not write a fic. He has been rotting my brain since I saw Thunderbolts and I don't see my obsession ending soon lmao....also my first time fully writing smut. I tried.

ao3 | masterlist

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The sound of laughter echoes around the living space as both you and Bob are scrolling through the endless selection of movies, making fun of each-others movie preferences. The light from the city is reflecting through the window glass, it’s a beautiful night and the two of you wanted to spend it indoors while everyone else in the Tower tended to their own business.  

It’s one of those rare quiet and peaceful nights at the Towel. You decided why not take advantage of it, hauling Bob out of his room and inviting him to a movie night (a movie night that doesn’t involve unnecessary commentary or spoilers).

“We’ve gone through an entire collection of romcom’s…do you not watch anything else?” Bob teasess as he nudges your shoulder, a small grin spreading across his face. You roll your eyes, tossing the remote to his lap. 

“Okay, drama queen. You pick.” 

Bob chuckles, causing his knee to press lightly against yours. He’s warm – you notice with every light tough to the shoulder, whenever your bodies lightly brush against eachothers, he’s always warm. Being close to him is no different from wrapping your body with a freshly dried blanket. Months since the New York incident, your downtime has been spent with Bob. You found comfort in him, his quiet smile and haunted eyes enticing you. He was both gentle and strong, it was impressive. Bob was the only person who made this new life you’ve all been pushed into feel like a home. 

After what seemed like endless scrolling, Bob lands on Warm Bodies. “Zombie movie. I think this one’s a winner.” 

“God help us,” you groan. “This is still romance.”

“Sure, but it’s with zombies.” 

You hum in response, sinking your body further into the large couch and glance back at him. You offer him a shrug – accepting the film of the evening. 

The sound of the movie beginning echoes through the surround sound, and it’s all you're able to hear as the two of you focus on the screen in front of you. That is until the moment was interrupted by the elevator door’s ding. 

Heavy footsteps make their way towards the couch, not shying away from being the only loud thing in the room besides the TV. You turn your head as they approach, it’s Yelena. 

“Movie night?” she asks, a grin spread across her cheek. She’s in a grey sweatshirt, her blond hair is pulled back by a headband. 

You turn your head back, nodding in response. 

“Nice,” she makes her way to the other side of Bob, dropping her body next to his. “What are we watching?” 

“Something with zombies, y/n says they fall in love.” he replies, turning to her with a wide smile – his soft eyes gazing over at her, his half-laugh expression you try to believe is just for you. 

It’s uneasy, the feeling at the bottom of your stomach. It’s doing more flips than you do during a mission, your arms crossing quicker than you realize how you’re reacting. It’s completely illogical, there’s no reason for you to feel this bothered.

But you watch them, you see the way she nudges his arm, how he doesn’t pull back. With you, Bob seems almost hyper-aware of his proximity to you, but with Yelena, it’s almost as if physical boundaries don't exist. He is completely comfortable with her. You begin to watch him watching her, how his eyes follow her subtle movements, how captivated he stares at her as she laughs – confident and magnetic. Why did he never look at you like that? The thought sneaks its way to your head, you can feel your heart rate slowly begin to increase. Something is pulling tight in your chest.

You don’t understand it, but you sure as hell don’t like it. 

“I’m actually kind of tired,” you say quickly, standing up before you are able to finish your sentence. 

Bob diverts his attention towards you, “Already?”

You lower your head, nodding sheepishly. The walk to the elevator feels as if it’s a few miles away as opposed to a few feet, each step feeling as if you’re walking in slow motion. 

Behind you, you hear bodies shifting. 

“You sure?” Bob mildly shouts, his voice dripping in confusion. 

When you finally make it inside the elevator, you pretend not to hear him. The sound of your finger pressing the button rapidly becomes the loudest noise – the desperation to be anywhere but the common room being obvious. When the door finally closes, it’s quiet but your thoughts seem to be so loud. There’s a mix of emotions and ideas going through your head, but you're unsure how to make sense of any of it. 

As you push open your bedroom door – it feels heavier than usual. The shallow light of your lamp shining too bright, and your bed looking like the ultimate safe space. 

You’re not used to this feeling – it’s beyond foreign and it startles you. Not even the most dangerous mission can make your stomach churn the way it does when you see Bob watching Yelena. It’s been like this for weeks at this point, your breath becomes shallow when they share an inside joke together. Your heart races more than you’re used to when you see Yelena place her hand on his shoulders. There's a nauseating feeling that takes over when every moment with them, you feel like a third wheel to their friendship. They share a specific bond, and a friendship like there’s can’t be replicated. They’ve been through too much, know each other too well. 

It’s way more intimate than any kind of friendship you and Bob have. 

But you’ve known this. This isn’t new. Their friendship wasn’t some kind of secret, it’s been this way since you joined the New Avengers and it’s been this way since before you were recruited in.

But recently, you haven’t been fine. You try to convince yourself that you’ve been sick, but the feeling of unease only happens when you’re around them. 

You just don’t know why. 

You're settled in bed, it’s dark, and you want to be asleep. You’d do anything to be asleep. The weight of the blanket over you should be comforting, but it just makes you feel too aware. It’s fabric grazing over your skin, the rustle of the sheets whenever you shift in place. While your room is dark, the light from under the door can’t seem to escape your focus. The realization that the movie night you planned is now happening without you. 

You try telling yourself that this is ridiculous. Why did you leave? Exactly what was the problem? Bob and Yelena are close friends, but they’re also your friends. They’re your team and co-workers, you all live under the same roof now – so why was your brain doing this to you? 

A soft tap on your door pauses your thoughts, your name being softly said against the other side. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat, for a few seconds, you actually forget to breathe.

It’s Bob. 

He stops tapping your door before he says, “Can I come in?” 

You don’t respond, keeping your body still. You hope the lack of any sound, any proof that you’re awake would cause him to walk away. To leave you and your thoughts alone. 

“I’m coming in.” 

You make a small noise as you hear the door slowly creak open, quickly pulling the cover over your head. Your body is still as you hear footsteps slowly approach you. 

For a moment, you think of getting up. Explaining yourself and wanting to offer an apology, ending the movie night before it even really started. But you lay there, still and motionless, pretending to be asleep. 

It feels like there’s someone hovering over you, you hear the sound of shifting on the ground. You imagine Bob standing over you, fidgeting as he contemplates whether to wake you or let you rest. Luckily for you, he takes a step back, you hear his footsteps slowly begin to sound further away before he lightly shuts the door. 

A loud gast escapes you, from the breath you forgot you were holding. You kick your sheets off you, releasing the sticky hold it had on you due to your sweat.

You’re unsure what you got yourself into, or how you got there in the first place. You just want things to be as they were, you want to feel normal again.

You have got to do something about this. 

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You don’t mean to avoid him – that wasn’t the plan. 

At least not at first.

You just needed some space, some perspective, some time to breathe and allow yourself to be level headed. 

It was just easier to be all of those things without Bob. And without thinking about how he looks at Yelena, and without wondering if he’s ever looked at you that way (and to you, that’s wishful thinking). But, who cares. They’re friends. You’re friends. You’re all friends, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

And yet, the ache lingers. The feeling you got before sneaks its way into your body whenever you share your space with them. 

It was subtle at first – you skipping out on team meals. You’re not in the common room often anymore, you prefer to spend your evening locked up in your room or training by yourself in the training room. 

And it’s peaceful. 

There’s no aching feeling in your chest, there’s no butterflies flying freeling in your stomach, there’s no feeling of uncertainty or disappointment. You tell yourself, maybe you’re off being alone. Perhaps, you’re not someone who functions well in teams, you’re probably just naturally a lone wolf. 

And no one questions it, you hardley figure anyone even notices the fact that you’ve lightly pulled away. 

Well, at least most of them.

You can’t help but see the quiet looks Bob sneaks at you during meetings. You try to ignore the way his smile lighty drops when you answer him too quickly, or when you look too eager to leave. He stopped trying to sit next to you or stopping by your room when he’s bored. 

It hurt more than you thought it would. 

While you realize that this was the plan, this was your intention, you wanted space and you got it. But it still hurts. 

These days, the only thing that helps is being in your room or the Tower’s gym.

You decide today is one of those days. The world outside was too loud, just like in your head. You needed something to focus on, something to ground your body and allow your mind to be still. 

The Tower gym offered it all – empty, nothing louder than the echo of a weight dropping to the ground. It was the kind of noise you needed, it was the release your body was begging for. This was the place where you could move your way through the internal noise. You could sweat it out. Punch those intense feelings away. 

The current victim of your frustration was the punching bag, each strike against it vibrates up your arms like lightning. You finally felt like yourself again, the feral rhythm of your fists, the feeling of your strength, how accurate all your hits were. It reminded you of how accurate and sure of yourself you always used to be. 

You feel your sweat drip down your chest. Your hoodie was tied around your waist, your sports bra sticking onto you like a second layer of skin. It was incredible – you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to think. 

You didn’t want to think of how you managed to fumble your forming friendships. Or about how even being forced into a team, you manage to isolate yourself from everyone. Not about how Bob looked at Yelena like she hung the stars herself. Not about how easy it is for him to welcome her into his embrace, or how unguarded he is around her. You didn’t want to think about how your chest had pulled so tightly at the sight, you felt like you could barely breathe. 

“Woah,” a voice called out from the entrance of the gym, loud and sharp enough to separate you from your focus. “I never want to be on your bad side.” 

You pause mid-swing, averting your gaze to the doorway. You find John Walker leaning against the frame, sleeves pushed up and his arms crossed. He lets out a light whistle, a half smirk spread across his face. 

You wipe off your forehead with the back of your wrist, becoming too aware of your apperance.

“If you annoy me enough, you might become the new bag.” You say, and gratifyingly, Walker lets out a rare laugh. 

“Mind if I join you?” He asks while stepping inside. 

You reply with a shrug, turning back towards the mats. “It’s a free gym.” 

He drops his bag and follows you, silently joining your workout. 

In no time, it led to the two of you on the sparring floor, bodies intertwined and slamming into each other. The first few minutes of the spar was silent, just heavy breathing and grunting surrounding the two of you. It was the kind of silence neither of you mind. 

“Who pissed you off?” and then, Walker spoke. 

You don’t reply, trying to force yourself out of his hold. 

“C’mon, y/n.” he hisses, nudging your knee with his, holding onto you. “Your going at it like this is personal.”

Twisting your body, you manage to escape his hold. You stumble in front of him, landing on your knees. You shoot him a glare, “This is how you make friends?” 

He flashes you a toothy grin, “I mean, it’s working. Isn’t it?” 

You roll your eyes, but a chuckle manages to escape your lips. Walker offers you his hand, helping you up from the ground. 

You stretch your body for a second, rolling your shoulders before responding back to him. “Let’s spar. Talking optional.” 

Walker takes a step back, raising his hands in the air as if he’s surrendering. “Optional? That’s a shame. You have such a nice voice.” 

You scoff at his antics as you stepp into stance. He follows suit, preparing for the first most. You begin to stab at him once, then twice, and he braces it well. His arms are strong and hands steady, not holding back. It wasn’t long before you started picking up the pace, the sound of shuffling feet and strikes drowned out any of the previous spiraling thoughts you had. 

Walker ducks one of your strikes and smirkes as you lightly stumble. “You sure you not training for a match with anyone specifically?” 

“If you keep talking, I might be.” 

His laugh is loud and smile is wide, “Feisty. I like it.”

You can’t help form a grin across your face, and before you know it, you let out a full body laugh. Breathless. Genuine. 

You dodge another playful jab and attempt to shove Walker backward. He managed to catch your wrist mid-shove, and twisted it softly. It messes with your momentum, causing you to stumble into his chest, letting out a quiet yelp. His hand settles at your waist, pulling your bodies closer together. 

“Woah,” he teased. “If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was ask.” 

“I’ll make sure to lead.” you winked at him, pushing him back playfully. 

“So you’re one of those.” 

The two of you laughed, and for a moment, it was nice. This was the first time in weeks you weren’t spending your free time alone. It was simple. Flirty. Harmless.

 It was fun. 

Until the door opened.

The sight makes your stomach drop for reasons unknown to you. 

It was Bob. 

He stood at the doorway, his broad shoulder tense, arms to his sides and fingers lightly fidgeting against one another. Even under the low gym light, he was golden. 

He stood there silently, not saying a word. His eyes were too busy locked on the scene in front of him. 

Your body is pressed against Walkers, his hand still hovering near your hip. Your cheeks are flushed, your in your sports bra, your smiling like before and laughing like Walker was God's gift to Earth. 

Bob’s face was unreadable. He was too still, too quiet. 

“Hey,” you managed to choke out, still a little out of breath. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Bob didn’t look at you, his eyes still laying on Walker's hand on your body. “Didn’t realize I was interupting.”

Walker shifts, hands still on you. He doesn’t notice your body tensing up or your breath becoming staggered. “We’re just messing around. You want in?” 

Bob’s eyes flicked to you, and for a second, you think you see his brown eyes quickly shift to gold. You can’t put into words the emotion going on behind his eyes, but it isn’t just irritation. 

“No,” Bob says flatly. “I’m good.” 

With that, he turns his body and walks out. 

“Uh…” Walker finally releases you, helping you find your balance as your bodies seperate from each other. “Did I miss something?” 

You shook your head slowly, trying to prevent your body from freezing or your mind becoming a frenzy. The gym that was once your safe space is now added to one of the places you are going to have to avoid. There’s a weight in your chest that is settling like concrete the longer you stand there. 

“I’m gonna shower.” You say softly before leaving to your last sanctuary: your room. 

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The halls of the Tower always manage to feel too long when you don’t want to be found. 

You try to take the short way to your room, quickly leaving the bathroom as soon as you finish your post-workout shower. You try to ignore the uncomfortable dampness of your hair, or the chill spreading through your body under your over-sized nightwear. The only thing you want more than anything is to be alone in your room. You want to shake off the unnerving weight pressing down on your ribs. You feel guilty without having a reason to be. You feel like you did something wrong. You tell yourself that you might just be flustered, Bob just happened to catch you off-guard in a compromising position. It could have been anyone, and you’d probably feel the same way. It didn’t mean anything. 

But then you remember his eyes. How he looked at you (even though he was trying not to). He didn’t just look irritated or disappointed. But something else. 

You managed to finally turn to the last corner – but then you were stopped short. 

He was there, leaning against the wall outside of your room. Your sanctuary. The place that was supposed to be safe. 

His arms are crossed, head down like he’d been waiting on your arrival for some time. His hair caught the soft glow of the overhead lights, casting warm shadows across his cheekbones. You can see his chest rise and fall at a steady pace, like he’s focusing on it. He looks so calm on the outside, but you knew him too well. 

His jaw was tight. His posture was tense. If you didn’t look close enough, you’d miss the slight frown forming from the corner of his lips. 

“Bob..” 

He looked up slowly at the sound of your voice. 

“Hey.” His voice was quiet, but not soft as it was once before. It wasn’t gentle or warm. It was just quiet. 

You shift awkwardly, looking down at the droplets falling to the ground from the ends of your hair. You’re determined to look anywhere but at him. “Did you need something?”

“I think we need to talk.”

You sigh, slowly nodding your head. You slowly go past him, still not looking up. You unlock the door, stepping inside as Bob follows behind you, then closes the door behind him.

The lamp was the only light on in your roon, an amber gold hue shining a dim light around the two of you. You stand near the bed, holding your damp towels awkwardly. Bob stayed close to the door, like he didn’t have permission to come closer. 

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, the two of you sneaking glances at each other, waiting for the other to speak first.

Then, Bob lets out a deep exhale. “Are you mad at me?”

The question hurt. Hitting you like a punch to the gut. 

“No..why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, his voice slowly growing sharper in frustration. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No I haven’t –”

“Yes, you have,” he interrupts. “You ditched me on movie night, which was your idea. You stopped hanging out in the lounge. You sprint out of a room when I walk in. And then today…” his voice trails off, his jaw twitching before he begins to speak again. “Today I saw you. I saw you all over Walker.” 

You swallowed, the feeling of guilt crawling over your body again. “We were just training.” 

Bob nodded slowly, finally looking you in the eyes as if he was looking for answers. “Right. Just training.” 

“Bob…”

“I’m not mad,” he said between breaths, trying to calm himself. His voice is quiet again. “I just..I don’t understand what I did. If I even did anything. Did I bother you or something?”

Your throat tightens. Your fingers fidget against the towel in your hands, finding comfort in squeezing something. “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what?” His voice cracks with something raw, something new. “Was I around you too much? Talk to you too often? Did I..make you uncomfortable? Whatever I did…I…I think you need to tell me.” 

“You didn’t,” You said quickly, trying to ease his mind. You toss the towels in a bean bag not too far from you. You slowly begin to take a step forward. “Bob, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you pulling away from me?”

Your mouth opens lightly, but nothing comes out. How can you explain a feeling you don’t understand? How could you explain what you’re going through without shattering the friendship you’ve built? How can you tell him I hate seeing you smile at her like that without sounding crazy? 

While being so deep in thought, you don’t notice how Bob was currently looking at you. Really looking. Like he was searching for answers from your face.

Your silence and worrisome look on your face broke something in him. It’s as if he was finally able to connect the dots that have been in front of him all along. 

“You’re…jealous?” He asks, both you and himself. “That’s what this is?”

You flinch – the word you’ve been avoiding like the plague finally making it to the surface. “I’m not–”

“You are,” he takes a step forward. “You’re jealous of…Yelena?”

Your heart pounds against your rib cage, your ears become hot and you feel your body tense. This isn’t what you wanted, this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. 

“Why?” He asked. “Why does it bother you?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to say anything, but it spills out against your will. “Because – because I see how you look at her. How you smile at her. How comfortable you are with her. And I know you care about her. And I know I shouldn’t care, it’s stupid and petty, but I do care. I hate that I care because it really doesn’t make sense and –” 

Your voice broke, eyes widening as you just realized what you’ve said. You press your hands to your face, hoping to disappear. This was all too overwhelming, the adrenaline rushing too fast to know what to do with it. 

“I didn’t..I dont want to feel this way,” you whisper through your fingers. 

Bob was quiet for a second. A part of you hopes he’s so repulsed, so turned off that he just walks away and avoids you the same way you’ve been avoiding him. 

“What way?” He asks softly. 

You dropped your hands, heart in your throat. Your voice is working before your brain is, your thoughts and feelings finally being exposed to both you and Bob. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

You said it, quickly and softly. They were barely there, if Bob wasn’t listening carefully, it could’ve been missed. But as quiet as you were, it rang like thunder against the windowstill. 

You see Bob staring at you, stunned and speechless. 

You begin to rush to fill the silence, coming to terms with what you just confessed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. I thought it would just go away. I wanted it to go away, or at least for it to stop hurting. But then today, I saw you and you saw me, and God – I'm just so sorry. I dont want to ruin anything –”

“Stop,” he said quietly. 

You froze, afraid and relieved. It was finally out there. You finally admit to yourself what you’ve been going through, and now he knows too. But you were afraid that you would lose him, and that him not knowing would have been better.

Bob takes two steps forward, slowly as if he is waiting for you to tell him to stop. He cups your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. His eyes were shining, warmed and in awe at the sight of you flushed in front of him. 

“You didn’t ruin anything.” He says.

Then he kissed you. 

It was slow, as if he’s been waiting to do this forever. Like he’s savoring this moment, wanting to remember how your mouth felt against his. 

You melt into him, hands clutching the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. 

Your lips part with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time.” He whispers against you. “I didn’t think you felt the same.” 

You let out a shaky left, still gripping to his shirt. Slight tears cling to your lashes. “We’re both idiots.” 

“Maybe,” he whispered while pecking your forehead. “But we’re idiots together.” 

You kiss him again – this time deeper, more certain, more hungry. His arms wrap around you fully, pulling your body close to his. This time he was less hesitant, less shy. 

Your hands tangle in his hair as he gently backs you towards your bed. There is no rush in the way he touches you, only devotion. It’s as if he was memorizing every breath, every sound coming out of your mouth, every shiver. 

The back of your knee hit the mattress, and he pauses. Slowly parting his lips from yours.  

“You okay?” He murmured against your lips. 

You nodded, breathless. “More than okay.” 

He gives you his soft smile that beams across his face, it makes your chest ache. Oh, how’ve you missed him. 

His hands are careful as they slide under your shirt, fingers brushing up your sides, tracing your skin with feather-light touches. Goosebumps bloom across his skin, finally being able to feel you. He slowly peeled the shirt over your head, slow and unrushed, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“You’re perfect.” he said, his voice low and awed. 

You begin to tug at his shirt in response, “So are you.”

He chuckled at your playfulness, letting you pull his shirt off. 

You take a quick look at him, the way his hidden muscles flex at every movement, the definition across his chest. You can't help but have your hand trace along his chest, adoring evey inch of him. 

You look up to see him looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world he could see. 

You slowly lean back on the bed and he follows, settling over you gently. He braces himself on his forearms as he kisses you – slower, lazier, like he never wanted to let the moment end. 

Your legs tangle beneath him, his hands trace lines down your arms and outside of your thigh. You let out a soft gasp as his lips travel to the edge of your jaw, then the side of your throat, and the line of your collarbone. 

“Tell me when to stop..” he whispers between kisses.

“I won’t” you whisper. “I want this..I want you.”

His breath hitches at your response, his grip around you tightening. His hand trails down your body, before finding your most sensitive area. At first contact, your hips shift lightly, causing Bob to press down slightly firmer. He circles you – slow and soft, the pleasure causing your head to tip back. Bob begins to place kisses ontop of your exposed throat, wet and firm, like he was trying to leave a mark – like he wants to prove to everyone that you belong to him. 

His circles catch up to your moans. Every gasp and whisper results in him pressing harder, circling faster. 

“You’re doing so good,” he whispers into your ear. “You sound so perfect.” Your back arches at his soft praises, there’s a heat building up between your legs. He has you wrecked and he hasn’t even entered you yet, you’re a whimpering mess who is struggling to ask for more. 

Bob places a kiss back to your mouth, it’s sloppy and desperate. He’s moaning into you, your reaction to his touch is making him insane. It’s not enough – he wants you a wreck, he wants you to beg and plead, he wants you to want him the same way he’s been wanting you. 

His fingers dip lower, and he feels you. Soaked, warm, you're throbbing at his touch. It takes everything in him to not choke at the sensation, he focuses on your whimpering to keep him at ease. You arch deep into his fingers, thrusting into him for friction. 

“Oh my g-god…” you manage to breathe out. Bob hisses as your nails dig into his back, his fingers following the rhythm of your hips. Your moans slowly begin to get louder, your pace on his fingers increasing. 

“You can cum for me,” Bob whispers into your ear, as if he’s giving you permission to release. 

And you do, whimpering his name, your hips dropping to the mattress. He is still slowly pumping in and out of you, still pleasuring you as you come down from your high. 

You let out a disappointed sigh when his fingers leave you, but you’re quickly surprised when you see him put his fingers in his mouth – tasting you. He moans as he savours the taste of you, of what he’s done to you. 

He lowers his head, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close, slowly separating your thighs, thrusting up against him. You feel him, he’s hard and his tip is brushing up against you. 

“I want you…” you whisper against him.

“God…you drive me crazy.” he whimpers out.

After trailing soft kisses around you, he slowly begins to ease into you. The world around you shrunk – the only thing existing is breath, skin, and heat. 

It started off slow and tender, his movements careful as if this could end any moment. He begins to murmur your name like a prayer, rocking into you with patient rhythem. He was paying attention to every reaction you had, making sure to keep note of everything he did that felt good to you. 

“I’ve got you” he whispers into you, your moaning against him as his hands grip at your hips, pushing himself deeper inside you. He groans as he feels you gripping him, your slick causing the sound of your skins slapping to echo around the room. 

“You feel so good around me…you feel so good,” his cheeks are flushed. His thrusts begin to stutter, no longer feeling controlled like before. Bob is allowing himself to lose himself into you, gripping you harder and kisses sloppier. “I’m – oh, I-’m –”

You kiss his jaw, rocking your hips in return. The feeling of your clit rubbing against him and his fullness thrusting overwhelming you, causing your second orgasm to approach.  

“Me too…keep going…gonna cum for you,” you manage out, before you whine out multiple “fuck’s” as you cum around him. Feeling you finish while he was inside you was all it took for Bob to cum with a broken gasp, releasing all of him inside of you. He continues to pump into you slowly after you both cum, kissing you through the shuddering aftershocks. 

He gets off of you, plopping himself besides you. You curl into his arms, your bodies warm and hearts full. He presses a kiss at the top of your forehead, caressing your shoulder with the hand that's to your side. 

“I never want you to ignore me like that again, I won’t let you.” He confesses.

You hold onto him tighter, apologetically. “I won’t. I promise.”

And for the first time, the ache in your chest was gone. The endless months of doubts and feelings of uncertainty no longer existed. 

The only thing left was Bob, and finally feeling like you belong.

[flymetothexmoon]

Bikes + Leather-Studded Kisses

Warnings: Mentions of Nictoine. Dry humping. Public smut. Oral F!Receiving on Motorcycle.

Pairing: Established Relationship with Choi Seunghyun x F!Reader.

Authors Note: definitely not the first fanfic about Seunghyun and Reader on a Motorcycle so kudos + respect to the person who wrote it first because you a real one. This is my take on a quote my beautiful girl @aizshallnotbefound said in a moment of silliness so pls be nice. enjoy~

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚♡ɞ˚

Maybe you were having a midlife crisis.

Or maybe you were exactly where you needed to be.

It was Saturday, the type of Saturday where the cherry blossoms were in bloom and you could feel the sun hitting your skin.

You, however, were not in Yongdap-dong for the cherry blossoms. Somehow, you found yourself in front Ducati Korea as your eager eyes began to scan the outside of the building. Buying a motorcycle was not always something you envisioned doing when turning the age you did, but it was either go check out bikes or dye your hair something crazy and you figured given your boyfriend's past of random hair coloring experimentation, you would do the later.

The doors to the establishment eventually unlocked with the clicking sound from the mechanics of the interior locking system. It was now or never.

You could feel your eyelashes fluttering against your eyelids as your feet made their way inside of the building; the smell of the leather jackets that were for individual sale, the sound of employees offering one another the slight murmur of small talk, the sight of all different models of motorcycle that glistened in the vehicle showroom– you could practically taste the somehow bitter yet watered down coffee they provided for guests and employees alike.

It did not take long for someone to make their way over to where you were. Assuming it was someone on their sales team, you smiled warmly at the person coming toward you.

This person was dressed with the three c's in mind; comfort, collectiveness, and confidence, as the two of you began simple conversation of them asking what brought you in, what you were looking for out of a motorcycle, and financing.

You were brought back to their desk as you took the seat across from them, your eyes darting from the keyboard they were typing on to also aborbing your surroundings as more people began to walk into the shop.

"I hate to pry, but you mentioned this was your mid life crisis moment so you did not color your hair. You do not seem that old... may I ask your age?"

Honestly you could not remember the last time someone was so direct with you. When you answered, the sales professional nodded, smiling warmly at the comment.

"I would have never guessed. You look great."

The rest of the process was quick, easy, and dare you say painless considering you were at the mercy of the person selling you this motorcycle.

You had already taken the vehicle for a test drive and you were currently waiting to be cleared for purchase. As you sat in the same comfortable but somehow also uncomfortable chair, you twiddled with your thumbs, the ring on your left middle finger making contact with the top part of your knuckle on your thumb.

"No need to be nervous. Right now we are waiting on a bank approval for the loan to check the funds are really there. As of now it looks like you could be driving off in your new motorcycle. Can I interest you in some accessories while we wait? Most women love the idea of getting a new jacket, or maybe some designer gloves so they do not blister their hands..."

Interrupting your thoughts, the canine part of your teeth began to chew at the sensitive skin of the inside of your cheek.

Nodding, you agreed to at least take a look.

Seunghyun, your boyfriend, had always told you how delicate your hands were. He was the type of man who paid for your manicures, his excuse being that he wanted to be in charge of what he saw when your hands were in sync with your mouth when both body parts were wrapped perfect around him.

As you followed your sales professional to the part of the showroom where they kept accessories, your feet began to glide across the tiled floor with ease, your hands holding the delicate fabric between your fingers, the little tiny rhinestones on each ring finger were bouncing off the iridescent light fixtures.

The pesrson selling you the motorcycle followed close behind, but kept their distance as you continued to test the fabric to each jacket, feeling the different types of leather as you finally stopped at one specific one; one you knew Seunghyun would love.

"This is it. This is the one I am panning to get."

It did not take long for the person behind you to nod their head as they eagerly grabbbed the appropriate size and design you'd pointed out. Continuing to walk around, you did indeed end up buying a pair of gloves that would balance the look of the bike and the jacket you'd just chosen.

Before long, your name was being called, bringing you back to the days when you were in school.

An approval.

You smiled wide, your freshly manicured nails glistening in the light once again as you signed your name across a dotted line, extending your hand out to the person who you'd just spent a few hours of your day with.

Somehow, you'd kept this little secret of yours away from Seunghyun as you stood outside the establishment, the familiar of feeling of the sun radiating back on your arms as you admired the motor vehicle in front of you. You had known Seunghyun would not be home for a few hours to admire its beauty in the sunlight, so you were sure to make a point to change your attire later in the day.

•┈┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈┈•

As the day grew in time, the different hues in the sky began to change as you admired the sun slowly setting.

The ride to you and Seunghyun's shared penthouse was not a long one, less than hour to be exact, as you waited for his return. You were more comfortable on the bike than you anticipated being and the way your back arched while leaning forward was almost sinful as your hands held onto the handle bars appropriately.

It did not take long for you to change into the appropriate attire you wanted to be wearing the moment Seunghyun got home. It was simple, yet practical as you paired a pair of high wasted dark wash jeans with ripped holes at the knee, a pair of ankle boots that cut off at the ankle, and a lace top with frills at the neckline that complimented the leather jacket you'd purchased earlier and the leather gloves you'd also purchased earlier.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your lids as the different colors in the sky began to remind you of cotton candy, a sweet treat you had not had since childhood, but the familiarity still crushing your bones from the inside out.

Eventually, you could see headlights forming in the distance as a blacked out vehicle started to come up on the hill you two lived on. Upon squinting, you realized it was Seunghyun and who you assumed was his driver for the day.

As the vehicle got closer, eventually parking right in front of where were standing, your smile only widened as the door opened and your boyfriend was slowly emerging out of the door. His back was still to you as you saw his long fingers holding the tip of the door's window for balance and him handing the driver money. You noticed him bow in respect and gratitude for the lift as he removed his hand from the window, closing the door shut behind him.

Seunghyun always waited for the driver to leave before making his way into the house. He still had not noticed you were there, let alone, what you were standing with. You watched him bow a second time, his lips curving into an exhausted smile as he finally turned to face you.

You could not hold the excitement any longer as you watched in real time his eyes widening at the sight of you, at the sight of the bike you were previously leaning against as you reached up, holding his neck tightly and pushing your chest against against his. His heartbeat was loud and spertatic against yours as you felt his arms shake a little as they wrapped around your smaller frame.

Seunghyun somehow pulled you closer as his head found its way to look behind the two of you, looking at the bike that sat parked neatly behind both of you. He pulled away only slightly, his fingers rubbing tiny circles into your hips as you waited for any kind of reaction he could give you.

The taller man stayed silent and still, the only movement coming from his fingers on your hips you pushed on him closer, doing anything to feel him against you. Seunghyun only shifted at the contact, a murmured gasp leaving his vocal cords and a pop from the muscle in his jaw.

"Princess, why is there bike in our driveway?"

Finally, you let out an even louder excited giggle as you shimmied out of his grasp, pulling his hand that was once drawing little circles in your hip into the clasp of your hand as you dragged him the small distance to the bike, practically jumping up and down as you watched him admire the motor vehicle. His hand let go of yours for a second so he could circle the vehicle properly, his hand slowly extending to grace his fingers across the matte black paint.

"Well. As you know, my birthday was recently here, and I was thinking about what I could get for myself as a milestone gift. I thought about maybe dying my hair, but I saw someone riding around in one recently and it reminded me of when I got my motorcycle license a while back and never did anything with it. Surprise?"

You'd watched Seunghyun do a full walk around of the bike, his fingers still gracing against the paint job like he was trying to savor the feel of the finish. Like a nervous tick, his tongue darted from his mouth, licking the perfect stride against his lips slowly.

He was in deep thought.

Seunghyun continued to wet his lips and it was like everything shut off in the decision making part of your brain as you began to feel like mush, your legs closing tightly against one another, solely based off primal instinct as you hoped he did not notice.

Of course he did.

He notices everything you do— especially when it came to the beauty flower that was between your legs.

The taller man stopped what he was doing, stepping closer to you again, his hands finding your hips once more as they firmly grasped onto them like you needed him to stay straight. Before you could say anything else, you were off the ground and you were sat on the bike you'd just purchased, facing the opposite direction as the handlebars as the grip your boyfriend had on you tightened, his body closing in on yours as you inhaled deeply and took in his scent.

Marlboro Red cigarettes and Teakwood.

Seunghyun was closer than before as his breath hitched at the base of your neck where it met your collarbone. His lips parted slightly, the canine part of his teeth gracing against the sensitive and exposed area of your skin as you gasped quietly at the sudden feeling.

"You taste like cherries. Are you wearing your cherry perfume again or have you been hitting your silly little vape again? I told you that stuff is bad for you, Princess."

His teeth bit down harder as they managed to hit the bulging part of your collarbone this time, his tongue gently circling the inflamed area.

"Considering you smoke cigarettes all day, I do not think you have a valid excuse to make fun of me for my vape flavor of choice, old man. Sorry for wanting my lungs to be flavor coated,"

Your boyfriend's laugh was low, the vibration from his vocal cords causing the entire upper part of your body to lock up and the bottom half of your body going into a full spasm nodes. Honestly you did not know what was worse, and before you could think of another clever response to defuse the situation, his lips were on yours. By the way his lips felt on yours, it could have fooled you into thinking it had been longer since you were last intimate.

Like instinct, your hands went to the shirt he was wearing; a black simple button down that had the first two top buttons undone, a simple action that made you think of sin when you imagined the release it must have him when he did that. The tips of your nails were peaking through the fingerless portion of the riding gloves you were wearing, the manicured tips gently sliding across the exposed part of his chest.

It did not take long for Seunghyun to audibly groan against your lip, his body pushing against yours with a sense of urgency as his tongue forced his way into your mouth, not even bothering to beg for an entry way. As Seunghyun moved his body against yours, one of his planted firmly next to you on the seat of the bike you were sat on, the faint sound of his nails digging into the leather as you held onto his shirt tighter.

Seunghyun was a lot of things, but one thing that he could not pride himself in was his lack of patience. He was never satisfied doing just one thing, and had always to take things to a notch, and that was no exception when it came to your sex life. For being such a private person, somewhere deep in his soul he craved attention more than most, and maybe that is why he went into the entertainment industry, so he could hide when needed and to be praised when needed.

You barely had time to notice Seunghyun's own leather jacket he was wearing until he finally pulled away from you and leaving the the both of you gasping for air as you locked eyes. By how you two looked, people would think you were high off more than each other as both: your and his pupils were completely blown from the best drug on the market— intimacy.

"Do you have any idea what you did to me tonight, mm? The way I come back from doing press all day to you standing here next to this bike, the way you got all dolled up in a lace top and leather jacket as if you are not already the hottest woman I'd ever seen."

Slowly, your cheeks turned the same color as the sun setting behind you both.

You wanted to thank him, but before your brain had time to form a complete sentence, his hands were back on you, only this time they were at your knees as he forced them to be spread and on display for him his eyes went straight to your core.

Seunghyun moved his head to the side, his jaw slightly popping again, as he quickly dropped to his knees in front of you like he was praying to a God he did not know he needed until his eyes were at level with you. You still had your jeans on but that did not stop the man from moving his middle finger down your clothed folds like he knew exactly where each part of you was— and he did.

His finger continued to work its way up and down the center most part of your jeans as your legs squirmed the tiniest bit. Not because you did not want him to continue, but because you did.

Your boyfriend quickly caught onto this as his left quickly darted upward grabbing the exposed part of your knee as his thumb drew circles on over the ripped part of the fabric and the soft touch of your knee itself as he spread you even further, his hand staying put as a way to keep you still.

Seunghyun began to mumble at the sight of you, his tongue escaping to wet his lips once again as you made out something he was mumbling. It was rushed, and in Korean, but you still understood every word.

"진짜 존나 아름다워. 마지막 식사처럼 널 음미할 거야."

Everything that happened next was a blur when your hips began to raise, only slightly, as you now sat bare on the leather seating of the bike. The seat was cold, but under the soft hues of pinks and purples from the sky and for all you'd already endured since Seunghyun got home, you could not be anymore warm.

Your boyfriend was still sat on his knees in front of you, his own dark wash jeans hitting the pavement to the driveway as he seemed to take forever admiring you. The tint of his yellow sunglasses was slightly reflective as you watched his hands remove them from his face and place them behind his own head neatly as he moved closer to you and began to slide his middle finger back to at the center of you, only this time his finger hitting you bare.

"I don't know why you bought this thing... If you wanted something to sit on and take a ride on, my face and cock have always been an option..."

That was all it took.

That was all you needed, and to be frank, all he needed before his mouth was on yours.

Hot, wet, and needy. So dam needy.

Your hips were already grinding against his face as you involuntarily jerked forward to give him better access as one of your hands dug into the leather seat and your other tangled deep into his dark roots, your almond shaped nails scratching at his scalp in response.

Seunghyun had been interested in art ever since he could remember, but he swore he had never seen something so artistic and beautiful until he first experienced his face being between your legs and his mouth attached your pussy like he would never have the blessing to eat another meal.

It was not until you began to continuously scratch at his scalp when you felt a vibration from his vocal cords vibrate against you like a goddamn orchestra.

His mouth felt like fire and the only that could reduce the flame was the wetness between and around your fold. The taller man's tongue would move up the same way it would move down as he tried to savor the taste like he wanted to remember for later. His mouth closed in on you as you felt the movement of his lips placing delicate, sloppy, kisses at the core of your pussy.

You squirmed again, your own head tilting back in the moment as your hand tugged at his sensitive roots.

Seunghyun leaned back quickly, his mouth leaving you as he looked up at you, completely wrecked and unaware of his intense gaze on you as his now swollen lips parted slightly, the arrousl of you still glissening across the bottom parts of his chin.

"Princess. If you do not stop squirming, I will leave you out here...."

Even in your wrecked state, you paused.

He paused.

Eventually, you whimpered in response.

His head dove back to you, only this time when his mouth latched onto yours, he quickly added a finger into you as well.

The pleasure was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. Sure, Seunghyun ate you out; in fact, he usually tried to at least once a day, but he never dared to eat you out like this, and in public where any of his neighbors could potentially see the two of you.

Seunghyun's one finger inside of you quickly turned to two as the metal one of his rings became a prominent part of the sensation. He was knuckle deep into you as his fingers pumped in and out of you, setting an already painful pleasurable pace inside of you. The way his fingers curled just enough, and the way his mouth latched onto your pussy like he was writing out his own godddamn full name in cursive.

His finger movements started to get sloppy, at point his fingers slamming into you once and then staying there as you began to tremble around him, and he boy could he tell.

Not only were his finger movements slowing down, but his the way his tongue began to dart at the bud of your pussy more quickly, he knew it was going to happen soon and you were both ready.

"Seunghyun, I— please. I'm going to cum. Need your mouth... and your fingers."

You would not be able to feel how hard he was, not yet anyway, and you definitely would not be able to say much more before his lips began to violently suck on you again and his fingers began to pump in and out of you again.

Half of him wanted to tell you to be his good girl and cum, half of him wanted to pull away from you all together and shove his own jeans to the pavement and fuck you stupid, but in the moment all he could properly comprehend was good damn good you tasted on his mouth.

Seunghyun's movements were fast and all you needed was the warmth of the metal from the ring on his middle finger and the warmth of his mouth signing a single "n" with the flick of his tongue as he signed his name into you one last time.

By the time you'd actually finished, the sky had gew darker and the moo began to shine through a nearby tree as Seunghyun pulled his mouth away from you, leaning back so his back supported his knees, removing his fingers from you as well with the sound of a pop from the wetness of inside you.

Bringing his two digits to his mouth, he licked his fingers clean of you, watching as you slowly caught your own breath and made eye contact.

"Good thing the seats were leather..."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚♡ɞ˚

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