#like if there was no way home from the end of the universe. and she was stuck there. wandering. waiting.

[kryptonitejelly]

art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

-

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

-

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortless, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as she easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

-

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

-

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

-

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

-

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

-

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

-

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

-

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

-

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson x female reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers imagine #not cm #not tg

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Coffee and Other Things

DI!SingleDad!Leon X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: you and Leon have a lil lunch date, but he just can't keep his hands to himself

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, brief fingering, choking, hair pulling, riding, car sex, semi public sex, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, age gap, foul language

WC: 4.1k lol I can't write short things

A/N: lol omg I wrote 2 things in a month?? Woah witchcraft. Yeah yall thought I abandoned this series. Well kind of. I was very unmotivated to write for it but idk I was like fuck it why not, this has been sitting my drafts since September soo. I will warn yall that this is not going to be a constant thing. I'll update when I have inspiration to write for it, so it'll probably be sporadic, but I hope yall enjoy it the same.

If you'd like to keep up with this series (or any of my works) follow @midnightreadinglibrary for updates since I no longer have a tag list and turn on notifications, don't worry, I'll only reblog my written works there

Universe masterlist

God was it hot out here. It was inhumane that's what this was. If there was one thing you hated in this world was having to stand outside in eighty degrees in the summer or thirty degrees in the winter. Right now it was the former, or close to it, anyway. May sure seemed to think so. But the sun burning on your back this early in the morning was not helping. You were praying to the Gods to save you now because this cardigan was going to be the death of you.

You counted the tiny heads standing in line— as best as seven year-olds could anyway. You were missing one chocolate brown-haired head. Weird. Leon hadn't mentioned not bringing Isabella to school today. 

You looked at your wristwatch, three minutes before you had to take your kids inside. You sighed softly, folding your arms over your chest as you kept an eye on your kids, but you also kept some attention ahead, in case you maybe saw that pair that in a matter of weeks had become such an important part of your life. Even if Izzy didn't realize it yet.

But you stood corrected. Your lips curved up at the sight of a tiny Isabella, pigtails and all dragging her leather jacket wearing dad across the playground. He had her tiny lilac backpack hanging from one shoulder and her Rapunzel lunch box hung from his free hand. This was the first time you had actually seen Leon drop her off. Claire— who you had learned was a close friend of Leon's for many years now— would normally drop her off, or Izzy would come strolling into your classroom after drop off so you wouldn't see him either way. And now that you were seeing this for the first time, you couldn't hold in your laughter. 

"I told you I was going to be late!" The little girl fussed as she dragged him. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he wondered what the hell he was raising. "Aunt Claire is never late."

"Yeah, well your daddy got—" shot at last night by the mercenaries of a deranged scientist. Leon bit his tongue and he shook his head at himself. "I got home late. Sorry, I'll try not to be late next time." 

Izzy turned her head to look at him, lips pulled up into a tiny smile now. "It's okay daddy. You'll do better next time." 

She stopped at the end of the line, and he stopped with her. His eyes instantly landed on you at the very front. His eyebrows irked up and his lips curled up, he didn't think he'd actually see you this morning. Fuck, how was it that you looked prettier every time he saw you? He took his eyes away from you to look at Izzy. He crouched down to her height, shrugging her backpack off his shoulder to hand it to her. She happily strapped it over her shoulders and took her lunch box as well. 

"Eat some okay? I know I'm not the best cook but a sandwich and some fruit can't be too bad right?" She nodded eagerly, just happy that her dad had made her lunch. She was about to run off to her friends but he called her back. "Isabella. C'mere for a sec. Listen, I'm picking you up after school, okay? So think where you want to go eat and we'll get ice cream after, yeah?" 

The way his little girl's eyes lit up at his words was better than anything else in this world. Nothing could ever top that. She threw herself around his neck and he couldn't help but smile a bit. 

"Thank you daddy!" 

"Yeah. Love you bee." He rubbed her back softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her hair before he motioned his hand at her. "Okay, go on. Go say hi to your friends." 

Izzy happily ran off, saying a 'Love you!' over her shoulder before she squeezed her way into the line where her girl friends were also standing.  

You couldn't quite hear their exchange, all you could hear was Izzy saying I love you to her dad, but that alone was enough to melt your heart. Your eyes found Leon's and you couldn't help but smile. You watched as he stood to his full height, and the look in his eyes all but called you over to him. You chewed on the inside of your cheek softly as you nudged your friend, Emily— the other second grade teacher standing on the line marked next to you. 

"Hey, can you watch my kids for a sec?" You bit your lip and gave her a sheepish look. She looked at you with a confused frown but then her lips parted in realization when she saw Leon. 

"For that? I'd watch your kids the rest of the day. Go girl." She said quietly and nudged you away. 

You laughed softly at her and made your way over to Leon as casually as you possibly could. It was normal for teachers to talk to their parents for casual conversation, right?

"Hey Miss. How's it going?" He was really good at pretending to be cordial, you give him that. He stood at least a foot away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets, but his eyes were anything but innocent as they looked you over. 

"Hi Leon. I see that you brought Izzy today?" You said, arms folded over your chest as you tried to not be so obvious. 

"Yeah. I wasn't home last night when she went to bed, so I figured I'd make it up by dropping her off." He shrugged, but his nose twitched a bit as he remembered the mess of this morning. "Though, I have a feeling neither of us are used to it. She kept saying I was doing this and that wrong, that I was driving too fast, that her left ponytail was too tight. That her right was too high. I'm wondering where she gets all that attitude from." 

You couldn't help but laugh at him. So much so you had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. He clearly didn't see the humor in it and he narrowed his eyes at you. 

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. She totally gets it from you." You snorted as you remembered the first day you met. You had never met someone so grumpy and with so much attitude. It was part of his charm, you guessed. 

"I'm offended." He gave you a pointed look and shook his head. You shrugged at him, hiding your smile behind your lips. But he had a tiny smile of his own. He looked around him for a second before he leaned down to speak to you. Nothing too scandalous, but his cologne was definitely intoxicating you now. "Listen, I have some free time today so, you wanna get lunch? I'm guessing you have lunch time." 

"I…" You laughed softly, a soft heat creeping up your cheeks at his proposal. "Yeah I have a lunch. I got forty-five minutes at eleven thirty. Pick me up?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. It's a date then." His lips curled up a bit, he hadn't actually ever said that out loud. It sounded nice. A date. With you. 

"It's a date." You said quietly, repeating it to yourself, almost as if you had to say it to believe it. 

Sure, you've had two successful dates with Leon, and you didn't even have to get started on how good your chemistry was. But you were still cautious. Dating hadn't exactly been kind to you and Leon just seemed way too good to be true. You had honestly just expected him to ghost you at some point. 

But you were so glad you were wrong. 

~~~~

"Leon—" You scolded him, but the words leaving your mouth didn't match your hands. You gripped him closer, your fingers clinging to his button down shirt. He only hummed in question. "Leon, c'mon stop that. I only have like twenty minutes." 

You didn't actually want him to stop. Not really. His lips on your neck, licking and lightly sucking at every spot that made you shudder. You sat on his lap, straddling him on the front seat of his Jeep Wrangler. You weren't quite sure how you ended here. One minute you had been sitting with Leon, drinking coffee and eating some cream cheese bagels, talking about your job, his job, his kid, a little bit of everything, laughing and joking for what felt like hours. And then you were here, at an empty parking lot, in broad daylight. 

This was such a bad idea. But the way his lips kissed you and the way his growing hard on brushed against your clothed clit was way too good to say no. 

"Twenty? Fine. I can make you come in five." He breathed into your ear, his hands running up your bare thighs, scrunching up your dress to your hips.

His words alone made you want to come then and there. You breathed out a shaky sigh, eyes closed as you tried to argue that this was a horrible, horrible idea. You were more sensible than this. His hands found your ass, and he squeezed, making you squirm on his lap. Which only made him harder against his jeans. 

"C'mon. Promise I won't go so hard this time." He brushed his lips under your jaw, slightly lifting his hips to make the front of his jeans brush you some more. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please." 

Fuck, the way he sounded begging, begging to fuck you. You didn't need much convincing, but that? That made you pool into your panties. 

"No hickeys, and no bruises," You muttered, remembering you had to wear scarfs in this heat for days to cover the marks his fingers left. Leon smirked a bit at this. "I'm serious. I've never had to cover up bruises before you." 

Leon dug his teeth into his bottom lip, leaning back to look at you as one of his hands sneaked under your dress and he kept his eyes on you as he rubbed his thumb over your clit through your panties. 

"I won't bruise you this time." His lips curled up into a satisfied grin when your lips fell open into a silent moan. "I gotta say though, your neck looked so pretty with my fingers all over it." 

He sat up, his free hand pulling you to him by the back of your neck and his lips crashed against yours harshly. He happily took in the moan that left your throat as he thumbed at your clit. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning softly when your fingers threaded his hair. 

He held you against his mouth, his thumb on your clit for what felt like years, you honestly worried you had run out of time. But in reality only a minute had passed. He let go of your head to blindly reach for the console. He groaned softly as he touched around for a second, but ultimately had to pull away to look. He found his wallet, he dug through it with urgency before he tossed it on the passenger's seat.

Your eyes landed on the golden wrapper and you frowned at him. 

"You do remember you came inside last time, right?" You asked with genuine confusion and he could only laugh in response. 

He pressed a hard kiss to your lips before he replied. "I remember. Trust me, I remember. But unless you wanted to sit with my come inside you for the rest of the day. Figured this was best." 

Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out a soft laugh, Leon could only watch you with amusement. 

"Were you hoping to get laid then?" You laughed softly and he only shrugged in response, his eyes never leaving you as he unbuckled his belt. 

"I was hopeful. I was kinda hoping you missed me enough." He chuckled, now watching as you reached your hand to unbutton his shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath when you leaned down to press your lips to his neck. 

"I did." A playful smile fell on your lips as your lips trailed further down. He let out a pleasured sigh that quickly turned into a pained grunt when your lips touched a particular spot below his collarbone. 

“Hmph… Careful baby.” 

You pulled back with furrowed eyebrows as you tugged his shirt aside just enough to see a purple forming on his pale skin, but it looked like a burn almost, a circle with an angry marking.

“What.. What is that? Are you okay?” 

He found the concern in your voice endearing. 

“I got shot last night during an assignment. But I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine.” He tried to say it as casually as possible, he looked at you with unwavering calmness, you were anything but. 

“You got what?” You almost shouted, it definitely caught him off guard. You swallowed hard as you placed your hands on his chest, almost as if you needed to feel that he was okay. 

“It caught my vest. But it still leaves a bruise. It hurts for a day or two. But I'm perfectly fine.” He knew you weren't convinced, your furrowed eyebrows and tight lips said as much. He sighed, “Can we not.. Do this right now? Please?” 

“Yeah.. Okay.” You still weren't entirely convinced but God were you having a hard time being worried when you could feel him against you. You could yell at him later. 

He gave you a small smile before he kissed you again, not wanting to waste any more time. He was quick to lift you up enough to pull down your panties and tossed them on the passenger's seat. And fuck, the look he gave you when he pulled away was enough to make you soak his jeans, you were sure if it, anyway. His eyes never left you as he spat on his fingers. He needed to watch your face when his fingers touched your clit. And what a sight that was. 

“Oh, you sweet girl,” He taunted, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He parted his lips to match the silent moan you let out, but the look on your pretty face was priceless. “Already so wet for me, hm?” 

All you could do was nod, heated and already breathless with adrenaline. But you couldn't hold back the cry that left your mouth when he slipped his fingers into your wet hole. Your head fell back slightly as you reached to grip his shoulder, just any part of him really. He watched your face carefully, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he buried his fingers to the knuckle, curling them against your most sensitive spot. His fingers worked you for what felt like hours, but in reality it was merely a minute or two. Though by then, the sound of his fingers in and out of your cunt was all he could hear. Other than the sounds leaving your mouth. But you could only take so much of this torture. 

“Please Leon—” God, you sounded pathetic, the way you were so desperately grinding against his hand was equally pathetic. “Need you.” 

Leon was a simple man. If his girl wanted to be fucked he had to comply. There wasn't anything else to it. 

His fingers left you empty in an instant, and you couldn't help but whine at the loss, but you knew you'd get something better soon enough. 

“Do me a favor, darling,” he grabbed your hand and placed it right where his cock was straining against his jeans. You swallowed hard, your chest still rising as you looked at him with big eyes. “Help me here, hm?” 

It took you a second to process his words, maybe you were already cock drunk just on the thought of it. But your shaky hands eventually unzipped his jeans and pulled him out of the confines of his boxers. The sigh Leon let out was almost primal as he messed around with his smart watch. You couldn't quite understand what he was doing but you didn't exactly have the mental capacity to think when his cock was right there. 

“Go on baby, I'm almost done here. You can ride me, can't you?” His words were almost mocking as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Your mouth was slightly open as you ran your tongue over your dry lips. 

“I.. I—Yes.” You responded quietly as you slipped the condom on him. Leon sucked in a sharp breath but said nothing as he watched you lean forward, and slowly sank down on his cock. 

Leon leaned back, his lips falling open as you sat on his cock. He swallowed hard, and it took him the very little control he still had left not to force you on his cock. But alas he let you take your time. His hands were tight on your hips as if to encourage you. And it took you a second to adjust but you ultimately lifted yourself before slamming back down on his cock, over and over until you were bouncing on him like that was all you were meant to do in this world. 

“Shit Leon, you feel so—” you were sure you sounded absolutely pathetic, your words broken in between moans as you leaned back until your back touched the steering wheel. 

Christ, Leon sure was loving this sight. 

He adjusted himself under you so that he could ever so slightly lift his hips to meet with yours. He particularly loved this sight because God, this dress, it was so perfect on you. The V cut was low enough for him to see your neck and collarbone perfectly, but of course your entire chest was covered. Unless he pulled the front down.. 

“Fuck, feels so good, I know baby.” He breathed out, watching you through hooded eyes as his hands moved up to your chest, and he pulled the material down enough so that your bra was exposed. He groaned, and it was almost animalistic. “Take this off. Take it off, please.” 

Please. 

God. 

Leon definitely felt the way you squeezed around his cock right then. You kept your grip on his shoulder with one hand as you somehow reached behind you with the other and unclasped your bra with the other. Leon fumbled around with the sleeves of your dress until those were off your shoulders. And the second your bra was out of the way, he grabbed a handful of both of your breasts with both of his hands. And he fucking moaned. 

“Goddamn, you look so pretty like this.” His eyes traveled from where his hands were grabbing at your bare chest, to your exposed neck with your head thrown back as you so desperately fucked yourself on him. He didn't even care about the mess you were most likely leaving on his jeans. “Look at you, using my cock like you fucking own it. Fuck.” 

Even in your delirium, this brought a smile to your face and you were sitting up to look at him. You brought a hand to his face, the sound of his grunts and moans were in your ear and the completely pussy drunk look on his face made you want to come right then and there. 

“Say that again. Please, say it again.” Your words were slurred, breathless as you so desperately chased your release. Leon bit his lip softly, sitting up to meet you halfway. With a tight grip on your ass, he lifted his hips to thrust into you with intensity as if to prove a point. 

“Yes darling, you can fuck yourself on this cock all you want ‘cause it's all yours.” His lips were on your jaw as his free hand held you by the back of your neck. 

You dug your nails into his chest, surely to leave marks as you closed your eyes. Your heart was pounding, skin burning hot to the touch as he held you, each drag of his cock brushing deliciously against that perfect spot. You were so close. 

“Choke me, please.” You pleaded barely above a whisper, nothing short of a whine. And the moan Leon let out at your request was by far the most erotic thing you will ever hear. 

He ran his tongue over his lips as he brought his hand to your neck and wrapped his fingers around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but it definitely was tight enough for you to see white. The lack of blood flow mixed with the tight feeling in your stomach. You could only take so much. 

“Oh my— Fuck. I—” Words were no longer something you knew by then, you were grinding your hips so desperately, and the way you were squeezing his cock, he had quickly learned meant you were so close. 

“Mhmm just like that pretty, come for me, I know you can do that.” His thumb found your swollen clit as he held your throat and he watched with big eyes as your mouth fell open. Leon let out a soft moan that mimicked the one leaving your throat as you squeezed him tightly. Too bad he couldn't actually feel you come on his cock this time. “That's a good fucking girl. Yeah, atta girl.” 

He gripped the side of his seat as he drilled into you, lifting you on and off his cock as he fucked you through you release, and chased his own, of course. You pressed your forehead against his, soft whines leaving your lips at the overstimulation of his jeans rubbing against your clit. But you could hear his soft moans in your ears, his soft praises as he gripped your throat with soft fingers, until he gave you a particularly deep thrust and he held you down on him. The string of curses leaving his mouth as he came were anything but coherent, but fuck did it make you wet all over again to hear him unravel like this, just for you. 

“Shit. You see what you do to me?” He breathed out a laugh, his hand now cradling the back of your hair as he left kisses on your jaw. 

You closed your eyes tight, breathing in deeply, taking on the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with his own scent, and Christ, it was so intoxicating. All of him was intoxicating. You hummed softly and threw your arms around his neck, leaning close to him, just craving to feel him close, even if closer was even possible. 

“Likewise… Look what you made me do.. I've never..” You swallowed hard, feeling yourself grow heated in embarrassment. 

“What's that?” He pulled back ever so slightly to be able to look at your face, curious by what you meant. He softly tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear when he noticed your flustered face. How he could be so gentle and tender after absolutely wrecking you was always beyond your comprehension. 

“In a car.. You know? I've never..” 

A tiny smile formed on his lips, “Seriously?” 

“Stop. It's just! I don't know. I've never done anything risky like that. Like we could totally get arrested for this.” You almost wanted to curl up into yourself in embarrassment but Leon never let go of you, not once, he simply chuckled. 

“You do know I work for the government, right?” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your embarrassment was quickly gone, to say the least. “Gotta say Miss, I am totally ruining you.” 

And he was indeed. What a pretty thing you always were. And by the time he was done with you, you were a flushed, fucked out mess, your hair tousled and your dress pulled down. But he rather enjoyed seeing you like this. And the things he made you do, the things he made you feel, they were beyond this world. To think you always prided yourself in being rational. 

You were about to respond with one of your remarks when an alarm on his watch went off. You jumped at the sound, panicked for a split second thinking it was the police or something, but you calmed down when you saw him lift his wrist and tapped the screen. He smiled at you with pride, and if you didn't know better you would have thought he even puffed out his chest with pride. 

“Would you look at that, I did make you come in five.”

#leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #DI leon #single dad leon

[hard-core-super-star]

Random thought popped into my head but it's about vampire Kate x reader. What if reader was a witch of some sort who got her heart broken because Kate is an fboy and became terrified and left when she realized how much she loved the reader but came crawling back a year later because she needed reader's witchy help and they ended up casually flirting because they clearly still have feelings for each other and stuff

ain't that the kicker [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate x reader

summary: the morning after your late-night encounter with kate doesn't go quite as planned...and neither does the day after that or the day after that. [aka you and kate have way more issues than you thought]

warnings: none, i think?; did somebody order angst?; so much tension, you need more than one knife; i rob you of a longer wanda scene; cliffhanger ending because this got too long; weird vampire powers that are badly explained; very long dream sequences; a surprising lack of actual vampire stuff [i badly need to rewatch first kill]; idiots in love but emphasis on the idiots!

wodcount: 3.2k

a/n: hey everyone, my motivation was pretty dead for a while but, unsurprisingly, vampire kate brought it back! and before you all freak out, YES! THERE WILL BE ANOTHER PART! and maybe it'll be less sad and more spicy, who knows? anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me and my constant disappearing act. my second year at university is wrapping up so hopefully you’ll see more of me this summer ;) that's all i have to say, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Saying going home with Kate Bishop had been a bad idea would be a massive understatement.

You knew being alone with the heir of Bishop Security would come with problems but the problems all seemed relatively small compared to the continuous waves of pleasure you had been under all night.

To be fair, though, you never expected a grainy picture of you on Kate's lap to be part of that list of problems. You had expected some awkwardness from the charming brunette, the usual "we can't do this again" speech while actively making out in some random storage closet, maybe even some weird looks from your co-workers to further complicate things.

Your original plan had featured everything except you going viral overnight and waking up to the biggest PR disaster to ever hit Bishop Security. (Which is saying a lot considering the many one-night stand scandals Kate always finds herself wrapped up in)

You had so many ideas of what the morning after would be like but none of them included you waking up to an empty bed and a large pit in your stomach that tells you you fucked up big time.

Maybe it had been your fault, maybe you had been too naive for thinking you could really have it all.

Or maybe Kate was right. Maybe she had a longer list of enemies than you had been willing to entertain.

There were far too many “maybe’s” in your mind, an overwhelming amount of notifications on your phone, and you had no idea where Kate had gone.

You’re not sure how long you spend scrolling through Twitter and avoiding all the texts filled with unanswerable questions from your co-workers but eventually, you manage to regain control of yourself and get up from the archer’s ridiculously comfortable bed. You do your best to ignore how shaky your legs are as you get dressed, your mind unfortunately drifting to the night before.

You manage to find your way to the kitchen where there's a full spread of, slightly burnt, breakfast waiting for you. Your heart swells as you read the messy handwriting on the post-it note next to the biggest stack of pancakes you’ve ever seen.

Morning, sunshine. I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I made a bit of everything. Eat as much as you can, you’ll need a lot of food and water to recover from last night ;) - Kate

It’s impossible to stop the wave of relief that crashes into you after reading that.

As impossible as it feels, you allow yourself to believe things will be fine. That Kate will stick by your side after opening up to you about her supernatural abilities.

But the fantasy doesn’t last long.

You’re halfway through your breakfast when you hear the front door slam shut with so much force you briefly wonder if the hinges came off. It takes no more than fifteen seconds for the archer to appear in front of you, her shoulders tense and an unreadable storm in her eyes.

Her posture already tells you the answer to the question forming on your lips but you ask anyway. “Everything okay?”

She seems almost startled by the sound of your voice as if hearing you makes you real.

It makes the mess you’re both in real.

“No,” she sighs. “I have some shitty news.”

“Shittier than being called a slut by all of New York?” You reply, unable to stop the urge to make her smile.

Kate doesn’t fully smile but she does let out a small chuckle, her shoulders dropping into a less tense position as the sound escapes her. “Yeah…shittier than that.”

You should’ve known where the conversation was headed. Should’ve realized there was no way you’d be able to have it all. No way for you to continue with your life as if nothing had happened.

Maybe you are too naive because you truly didn’t see her next sentence coming.

“y/n…I have to fire you and we...we can’t do this again. This has to be goodbye.”

Everything crashes into you at once.

The realization of what you’ve actually done, the stupid ease with which Kate is cutting you out of her life, the betrayal of her practically kicking you out onto the streets. You’re not an idiot, you know there’s no way you’ll be able to keep your apartment, your humble yet expensive life in New York, without your job.

Without her.

“You…you’re serious? You’re throwing me out just like that?”

“It’s not easy for me either-”

“It looks pretty damn easy, Kate.” You scoff.

“You’re not the one who spent her whole morning getting chewed out by her mom.” Her words come out like an afterthought, like she knows just how badly she’ll fuck up if you hear the annoyance behind them.

Unfortunately for her, you hear her loud and clear.

“Oh, come on. That’s your excuse? You had one bad conversation with your mom and suddenly I don’t mean anything?”

She doesn’t reply and her silence only serves to stoke the flames of fury and resentment rising within your chest.

“Do you know how many death threats I’ve gotten in the last hour? How many coworkers have tried to blackmail me already? Do you understand just how much of my life this has ruined? And you have the audacity to act like you have it hard?”

“Don’t pretend like you know anything about my life,” she spits back. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Katherine. If I didn’t know you, if you didn’t care, why the hell did you tell me your dirty little secret?”

She blinks, taken aback by the hard-hitting truth you throw her way.

If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t notice the way she nervously fidgets with her fingers or the way she bites down on her lower lip while she tries to come up with something to say. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t know she’s hurting underneath.

You do know her, though, but knowing her isn’t enough if she’s not willing to let you stay.

So, because you do know her…you walk away.

It feels like giving up in the most infuriating of ways but it’s the only thing you can do. If Kate’s mind is made up, there’s no amount of reason that will get her to change. That’s another thing about her you’ve learned the hard way.

So you swallow your pride and walk away with no plan, no job, no way of supporting yourself. If you were a more spiteful person, you would have applied for a job at Stark Industries but instead, you do the second hardest thing you’ve ever done.

You restart.

It’s a bitter defeat and still, you pack up your things and pay an old friend a visit.

You had left Wanda behind after the Westview fiasco but she’s the only person you can think of running to after your entire life went up in flames. All it takes is one quick spell and the realization that a life without dark magic isn’t one you can live before you’re standing on the porch of her small cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Saying she’s disappointed would be an understatement, especially since she explicitly warned you not to fall in love with Kate Bishop. It’s hard to believe the witch knew about Kate’s vampire secret but you also wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what awaited you the second you left for New York.

Unfortunately, you had to learn things the hard way.

You could write multiple books on everything you’ve learned the hard way.

At the top of that list, though, is the true extent of a certain archer’s vampire powers.

It takes less than a month for Kate to reach you again…through your dreams. Dreams that feel far too real and leave you a tad bit more breathless than you’ll ever be willing to admit.

The first time it happens, you assume it’s one of Wanda’s new tricks, maybe it’s her way of helping you cope with what (or rather who) you’ve left behind. You think it’s weird but maybe a tad bit sweet and you make a mental note to ask her about it in the morning.

It’s not until you realize that you’re actively thinking that you start to worry.

To make matters worse, you’re inside Kate’s apartment…and she quite literally stumbles out of her bedroom to see you standing in the middle of her living room.

“Oh, shit.” She groans.

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of her voice. You know you’re just dreaming and yet it all feels so real. It’s like you can feel her eyes on you, hear the way your heart won’t stop pounding in your ears.

Your confusion must be written all over your face because she answers your question before you can even ask it.

“Yes, you are dreaming but this isn’t like a normal dream.”

“What the fuck happened to you not being a mind reader?” You blurt out.

You wait for that stupid smirk of hers to appear, maybe with a half-assed shrug and a semi-charming joke, but it never comes. “My dream, my rules, I guess.”

“That still doesn’t explain what’s going on.”

A beat of silence goes by before she sort of gives you an answer. “I can explain but you might hate me afterwards.”

The look in her eyes says more than you can possibly handle right now. You’ve never known Kate to be particularly insecure but all you can see in those blue depths is fear and insecurity. Fear that your feelings for her have changed, that you already hate her and never want to hear from her again.

Too bad you’ve never been good at lying.

“Try me.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up into a small smile. “Long story short, we’re bonded. That’s why we’re in each other’s dreams.”

There’s a bigger question to be asked but you’re still a little freaked out by how real this all feels. By how intense your feelings for her still are.

“But this isn’t like a normal dream, is it?”

“Nope, perks of having vampire powers.”

“So, you can do everything except read minds?” You can’t help but tease her like all the times before. “That sucks.”

“Shut up,” she says with an over-dramatic roll of her eyes.

A calm silence falls over both of you and you hate how normal it feels. How just like that, you forget your anger and the betrayal you’ve felt every minute since the day you left New York in favor of falling for her stupidly enchanting self all over again.

It doesn’t help that with every second, the distance between you gets smaller and smaller.

You don’t know who takes the first step, all you know is you blink and suddenly she’s standing right in front of you, those soft blue eyes of hers searching for the truth you can’t hide.

“y/n,” she murmurs, her hand tentatively reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

She’s technically not wrong, leaving because of her incapability to deal with her feelings was the last thing you wanted, but it’s not like you had any other choice.

She didn’t give you any other choice.

And now she’s here, staring at you with that wounded puppy look she so effortlessly embodies.

“I wanted you,” you whisper in response. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”

She chuckles, the sound warm but nervous. Her hand moves to cup your face and her touch is so soft, it leaves you breathless for a moment. “Never, I’m too stubborn for that, remember?”

You can’t help but tease her as the atmosphere shifts into something more affectionate than you’d like. “How could I forget? It’s your worst trait.”

“Ouch. Is that how you treat your favorite vampire?”

“Aw, poor little vampire baby.”

You wait for her to make one of her usual jokes but she doesn’t.

Instead, her eyes drift down to your lips and your mind instantly goes blank.

There’s an endless list of reasons why you shouldn’t do it. Just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it isn’t a bad idea. Then again…when has that ever stopped you from being with Kate Bishop?

It’s subtle but you lean forward just enough to give her the invitation she’s too much of a gentleman to ask for. Her eyes widen the slightest bit before she meets you in the middle, the space between your lips becoming nonexistent in the span of a few seconds.

You try your hardest to hold on to your self control, to not seem as desperate as you’ve felt since that first night, but it’s useless. Your hands grip the front of her shirt in an attempt to pull her closer despite how insane everything is.

You’re simply dreaming and yet you can feel every touch, every breath, every desperate effort to make your desires a reality. You would feel embarrassed if Kate wasn’t acting the same way.

Her lips leave yours only to trail down to your neck, her fangs instantly teasing the sensitive skin she finds. The anticipation builds inside your chest as she toys with you and it’s all you can do not to beg for more.

“Kate.” Her name leaves your lips in the form of a whisper that disappears just as fast as it formed.

All you hear is her sharp intake of breath before it all fades to black.

Your eyes snap open and you’re greeted with the absolute silence you’re starting to associate with Wanda’s cabin. All you can do is lay there in the darkness, your heart pounding in your ears while your fingers trace the spot Kate’s lips had just been on.

It had all felt so real and now you’re all alone again. It shouldn’t be surprising at this point and yet you still hold on to the hope Kate will come looking for you.

But she doesn’t.

All she does is haunt your dreams in the most literal way possible. She doesn’t come to find you and fix your many, many issues, instead, she simply appears in your dreams long enough to send your mind reeling without offering any solutions.

You wish you could hate her for doing this to you but you can’t.

You love her.

Worse than that, you love her more and more each night. Even though it’s not nearly enough to heal any of your wounds, and maybe it only serves to hurt you more, it’s definitely addicting.

Wanda offers to help you sever the connection between you and Kate, something about a spell she read in the Darkhold being her only assurance that she knows what she’s doing. You don’t fully trust her on that but you do consider the option for longer than you want to admit.

You reason with yourself that there are much worse things to deal with on a daily basis than highly realistic dreams, though. That being bonded to a vampire isn't the worst thing in the world.

And maybe that would be true…if the vampire in question wasn't Kate Bishop.

You don't know what possesses you to ask but the question slips out in the middle of another midnight rendezvous. It’s been a little over two month since you moved away from New York, a little over two months since you've shared these weird dreams with Kate, when you finally ask.

“What exactly did you do for us to be bonded to each other?”

The question must catch her off guard given the way her eyes widen in panic. “What?”

“You said these weird dreams happen because we’re bonded or something but you never explained how that happened.” You watch the brunette from your spot on the couch and impatiently wait for a response, for something that will help you make sense of everything.

She swallows back her nervousness but gives herself away due to the way she fidgets with the rings on her hand. “Oh, yeah, that…it’s because I bit you that night in my apartment…remember?”

Her awkwardness would be endearing if her response wasn't so damn suspicious.

“Yeah but you're a vampire, biting people is kind of your thing. You're not automatically bonded to every person you bite, right?”

A beat of silence passes before she answers, her voice shaking the slightest bit. “No that…that only happens when there are…certain feelings involved.”

It takes a second for her answer to click in your brain. For her sudden nervousness to hold real meaning.

The answer hits you like a train and it makes your blood boil like nothing else.

“Kate, tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means. Tell me you didn't fire me because you were too afraid of having feelings for me.”

“y/n-”

“For fuck’s sake, Kate!”

The sudden frustration in your voice makes her jump, hundreds of meaningless explanations forming on the tip of her tongue.

You don't hear a word she says.

You can't hear anything besides the pounding in your heart and the devastation that threatens to swallow you whole.

You always knew being with Kate would be impossible but this was something else entirely. This wasn't a lack of feelings between you two, this was too many feelings and too many miles of distance and not one ounce of regret from her.

You're not sure when you stood up from your spot or when she approached you, you simply feel her hand on your waist and the unmistakable sound of her breathing.

“y/n,” she tries again. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so tired of hearing you say that.”

“I know.”

The last thing you feel is her lips on the back of your neck before you wake up. Alone. Again.

Wanda must catch on to your desperation because she brings up the idea of cutting your connection with Kate that same morning.

“It’ll only be temporary,” she assures you. “No offense but you need sleep more than you need Kate Bishop.”

“I’m a little offended,” you grumble in response.

Despite your reservations, and the voice in the back of your head that tells you running away again is a bad idea, you go along with her plan. She's right, after all. You definitely need some time away from Kate Bishop and her never-ending messes.

The spell is simpler than you expect and it, thankfully, requires pretty much no effort on your part and no weird liquids.

It does also bring the best sleep you’ve had in months so you can’t complain…even when you wake up missing the sound of the archer’s voice.

You still miss her every day and you're sure that won't change any time soon but you welcome the peace with open arms.

Wanda spends her time teaching you random spells while you help her build a nice flower garden in the backyard. It's weird but…comforting.

You could even get used to life out here someday.

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself as the weeks go by.

Until Kate shows up unannounced and flips your world upside down again with those same soft eyes you fell on love with all those months ago.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop fic #kate bishop fanfiction #vampire kate bishop #kate bishop #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #wlw #wlw fic #writing

[misshoneyimhome]

Hey… I was thinking you can do reader x Kniesy… but there’s some smut involved. let’s say reader goes to university of Toronto and has moved in with Kniesy because her roommate was a bitch. One night after Matts comes home from a road trip, he finds reader asleep and bare in their bed with some… toys… next to reader🫣 Matty knows that reader knows to wait for him to pleasure herself but she couldn’t resist and ends up getting punished. thanks babe if you end up writing it!

Oh yes, darling! Of course, we can create some Kniesy smut 🤗💦

There's no better way to end the weekend than our freshman reminding his girl that he's the best she'll ever have - even compared to the toys she can use in his absence 😏

I hope you enjoy this 🤍

Tropes & Warnings; Matthew Knies x reader; established relationship; 18+ smut; masturbating with sex toys (vibrator), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;

Word count: 2.6K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50; @findapenny; @justwanderingbutneverlost; @cixrosie;

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Playing without me? I Matthew Knies 🖋️⚡️

You’d been at the University of Toronto for a few years now, and coming to live with your boyfriend, Matthew Knies, had been a real game changer. Moving in with him had been an easy decision, especially after your previous roommate turned out to be a nightmare. Every day had been filled with annoyance and arguments over the smallest things. Unwashed dishes, loud phone calls in the middle of the night, and a complete disregard for personal space had made your living situation a daily struggle, causing you to spend countless evenings venting to Matthew, who listened patiently and offered his support.

So, when he suggested you could just move into his flat, you quickly accepted. Surely, a part of you wondered if it was too soon in your relationship, but given the situation, it just made sense and felt as natural as breathing. And in the end, the thought of coming home to his warm smile, his reassuring presence, and the comfort of his embrace made the decision an easy one.

Besides, who wouldn’t prefer sharing a flat with their charming, hockey-playing boyfriend? 

Matthew was just everything you’d ever wanted in a partner—kind, thoughtful, and incredibly supportive. Though his schedule with the team meant he was often busy, he always made time for you, ensuring you felt cherished and loved. Your shared moments, whether simple dinners at home or spontaneous adventures around the city, were filled with laughter and affection. So, living with him had only brought a new level of intimacy and connection to your relationship, making you fall even more deeply in love with him every day.

_

For Matthew, it hadn’t really been a tough decision. You were often around anyway, especially with all the troubles you were having with your roommate. Moreover, he saw how stressed you were and wanted to make things easier for you.

Truth be told, he did his best to be an amazing boyfriend. Despite his chaotic and hectic lifestyle as a professional hockey player, he always tried to be great at prioritising your relationship. He always made sure to check in on you, even when he was on the road, as well as invite you to every game possible. 

Everything just made sense with you around, whether it was you casually studying at his dining table while he played NHL video games with his teammates or the two of you having dinner together. Your presence often brought a sense of calm and normalcy to his life, and with your classes scheduled at diverse hours, much like his training, you could often coordinate your schedules. Sometimes, you’d even spend the day at his place, enjoying the quiet to study while he was out. Other times, you had more free time to either prepare dinners or enjoy a lovely lie-in on his off days when you had late classes.

And Matthew loved those lazy mornings the most, waking up next to you, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, and the world outside feeling a million miles away. Those moments were a stark contrast to the fast-paced, high-pressure environment of his hockey career, as you brought balance to his life, grounding him and making everything feel more manageable.

Even his teammates noticed the change in him since you moved in. He was more relaxed, more focused on the ice, and always eager to finish practice so he could rush home to you. They often teased him, of course, but he didn’t mind. He knew most of them understood, at least in part, what it meant to have someone special waiting for him at home.

Matthew just cherished the simple, everyday routines you had come to share - cooking breakfast together, watching movies on the couch, or just sitting in comfortable silence as you both worked on your respective tasks. It was in these moments that he felt most connected to you, and he couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his time off the ice.

Living together had strengthened your bond in ways neither of you had anticipated. The little things, like leaving notes for each other or sharing a quick kiss as you passed by in the kitchen, added up to create a sense of intimacy and partnership that made your relationship feel solid and enduring.

For Matthew, having you around wasn’t just about convenience—it was about having the person he loved most by his side, sharing in the highs and lows, and building a life together. And for you, being with Matthew was a dream come true, a chance to be with someone who understood and supported you in every way possible.

_

However, being accustomed to each other's presence also had its drawbacks. Those moments often arose when he had to embark on a longer road trip.

And tonight was one of those restless nights with Matthew away on a roadie with the team. His absence was always tough, but tonight, the loneliness just hit harder than usual. After watching the game against the Canadiens, you simply couldn’t help but miss his touch, his voice, and the way he made you feel whole.

It was late on a Thursday night, and as you retreated to the bedroom to get some rest, you found yourself lying in bed, Matthew’s scent lingering on the sheets. The longing for him was almost unbearable. Before you’d moved in together, you could go days, even a week, without feeling his body against yours. However, in the short time you’d lived together, you’d grown accustomed to his constant presence and started to crave him even more.

So, as you lay there, unable to fall asleep because you missed him so much, you reached for the box under the bed—the one that held your private collection of toys. You knew Matthew loved to be the one to pleasure you, but the temptation was simply too strong tonight. You needed some release, especially with the images of him on the ice still fresh in your mind.

You started slowly, letting the vibrator delicately glide through your folds as you closed your eyes and imagined Matthew’s face before you. Your lips parted as soft breaths escaped, thinking about the hits he’d taken during the match, the joy on his face after his assist as he hugged Willy, and the sweat pooling on his skin from the intense activity.

You could already feel the arousal build within you as the vibrations sent waves of pleasure through your body. And as you gently pressed the tip of the toy against your entrance, slowly pushing it in and letting it stretch you, you let out a louder moan. Of course, you wished it was Matthew filling you up with his length, but for now, your vibrator would have to do. So, as you carefully moved it in and out of your core, you let your moans flow freely, imagining your boyfriend’s cock while the little two rubber strings touched your clit, adding more vibrations to your sensitive area.

And it didn’t take long before you felt the orgasm build within you, your mind going into a haze as you kept the toy still, letting the vibrations stimulate your clit and push you over the edge. Then with a louder moan of Matthew’s name echoing through your bedroom, you let the orgasm consume you and the high take over.

Hours later, you’d drifted into a deep sleep, satiated but still longing for your boyfriend, with the toys scattered next to you, a testament to your lonely night.

And you were in such a deep sleep that the sound of the door clicking shut didn’t wake you, as Matthew had returned from his trip, exhausted but eager to see you. He tiptoed through the apartment, not wanting to wake you, but as soon as he reached the bedroom, he paused, the sight before him making his heart race and his cock twitch in his boxers.

There you were, sprawled out on the bed, completely bare, with the toys he’d bought you as gifts lying beside you. He could even spot the faint smile on your lips and the flush of your cheeks, and it was clear what you had been up to.

So, uncontrollably, Matthew’s eyes darkened with desire and a hint of something else. You knew the rules, and you had broken them. And despite how much he loved seeing you like this; he was also determined to remind you of your agreement.

So, quietly he then undressed and slid into bed next to you, his hand gently tracing your curves, causing you to slowly stir awake. Your eyes fluttered open to find your boyfriend gazing down at you with a mixture of love and something more intense.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “Missed me?”

Your breath hitched at the look in his eyes. “Matts, I—”

But he just pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you. “I see you couldn’t wait for me,” Matthew said huskily, glancing pointedly at the toys. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

You nodded, heat already pooling between your legs again as you heard the deep growl in his voice. “I’m sorry, Matts. I just missed you so much.”

But his lips just curled into a knowing smile, a grin as devilish thoughts consumed his mind. “Oh, I missed you too, baby. But you know the rules. Now, I have to remind you why you should always wait for me.”

And then slowly, still wearing a mischievous smirk, Matthew moved over you, his hands skilled and confident as they began to explore your body. His touch was firm yet tender, driving you wild with anticipation, and you could almost feel the punishment in his caresses, a blend of pleasure and restraint that left you aching for more.

Matthew’s lips found yours in a searing kiss, his hands working magic on your skin as he made sure to squeeze each breast with equal care. But he also took his time, making sure you felt every ounce of his longing and control.

And it was working. As he moved his lips and hands around, each moment only giving you a taste of what he could truly provide, you felt it as almost torturous, causing you to let out a small whine.

“Matts, please,” you softly cried into the kiss, and Matthew knew exactly where he had you. You were completely under his control, and he was definitely going to take advantage of it.

“Hmm,” he growled once more. “So, you think you deserve it?”

You could only nod to such a question. So, Matthew then slowly moved away from hovering over you, kneeling by your ankles instead, before he took a firm grip of your hips and, with his great strength, flipped you onto your stomach.

Though you couldn’t see his handsome face, you knew he was smirking. Matthew loved your buttocks; to watch it, to feel it, whether bare or clothed, his hand always found your cheeks. And tonight, he wanted to get a little closer, to remind you that he was far better than any toy you could please yourself with.

So, placing his large palms on your hips, he then pulled your bum into the air, causing you to gasp lightly as he parted your legs a little more. Your head rested on the pillow beneath you, your hands already prepared to grip the sheets as you had a hunch of what was about to come.

“Matts,” you let out a deep breath, but there was no need for a response. Instead, you suddenly felt his hot mouth on your folds, licking you from behind as he explored your heat, while his hands held a firm grip on your cheeks. “Fuck…” you gasped, the pleasure quickly stirring within you as you were still rather stimulated from your earlier actions.

But Matthew simply hummed into your core, sending more pleasurable vibrations through you, causing a shiver down your spine.

It was no secret that he was more than talented with his mouth, his pouty lips alone exuding nothing but raw sex appeal. Every time you watched him on TV, as the camera drew in closer, your eyes would always be captured by how gorgeous his lips looked. Probably several orgasms were caused by the mere imagination of his lips, yet you were the only one to actually feel them.

And when Matthew then added a hand to the mix, lightly circling your clit while his mouth worked your folds and sensitive flesh, you couldn’t help but moan deeply into the pillow beneath you.

“Shit… Matts,” you cried aloud, though muffled by the sheets. It simply felt so good. His mouth and hand were causing nothing but pure bliss as he stimulated your centre, your fingers gripping tightly onto the sheets as the arousal took over.

You could almost feel your juices trickling from your cunt, mingling with his saliva as he ate you out as if it were his last meal on earth. And soon, you felt your thighs trembling, every muscle clenching as he brought you closer to an intense orgasm.

"Yes… Oh, fucking hell yes… M-Matts… I’m coming," you almost shouted into the pillow, gently rocking your hips as the rush consumed you, ecstasy flooding your mind as you reached your peak.

It was nothing short of incredible as euphoria swept over you. And as you slowly began to come down from the high, Matthew softly withdrew from your heat, strings of saliva connected from his lips to yours, then licking his lips as he savoured the sight before him. It was everything he had aimed for, seeing how you were almost unable to keep your senses together solely from the pleasure he gave you. Needless to say, his cock was needy and twitching in desperate need of release. And since he had already made sure to remind you of his skills, he felt confident in pursuing his own pleasure.

By the time he finally entered you, you were flipped back onto your back and turned into nothing but a trembling mess, completely at his mercy. Your core was sensitive, overstimulated not only by the vibrator, but also by the expert attentions of your incredibly skilled boyfriend’s mouth. And now, your earlier fantasies were coming true as you finally felt his length inside you, massaging your walls with every thrust, hitting your g-spot, and sending you into another high as Matthew pounded you mercilessly. His force created loud smacks of skin meeting skin, your moans even louder reverberating through the room, likely audible to your neighbours. But you didn’t care. You were simply overwhelmed, relishing the intense sensation, as you and Matthew climaxed together and he filled you with his seed, making sure to mark you as his.

The night was simply a whirlwind of intense pleasure and whispered promises, as Matthew ensured you knew just how much he had missed you and stressed the importance of following the rules. And as the sun began to rise, you lay in his arms, exhausted but completely content.

Despite the passionate desires and heated lovemaking that filled the night, he always made sure to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, a tender gesture that filled your heart with warmth as he pulled you close for a cuddle. "Next time, wait for me," he whispered.

You couldn’t help but smile, nestling into his broad, muscular chest as you looked up at him. “I will, Matts. I promise.”

With Matthew back beside you, you felt confident you could endure any loneliness the world threw your way. After all, nothing compared to the love and connection you shared with him.

#my asks #18+ smut #matthew knies x reader #matthew knies smut #matthew knies imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl hockey smut

[buddierecs]

secret relationship buddie fics

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

our love is all we need (to make it through) by: chimneysrebar "buck and eddie decide to hide their relationship from their friends. It goes about as well as you would expect" word count: 3.1k important tags: sleepy cuddles, eddie diaz loves evan buckley, firehouse 118 crew as family, fluff

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft by: justhockey “i don’t think you need a dad, that’s not how families work, right? like, they all look different,” chris says. “but it’s okay if you want one. there’s nothing wrong with that.” “what’s it like, having two?” denny asks, and buck has to cover his mouth so he doesn’t give himself away. christopher’s laugh is loud, and sweet, and tugs on buck’s heartstrings in the same way that it always has done. he doesn’t even hesitate to say, “it’s fun. i love them.” word count: 4k important tags family fluff, soft eddie diaz, christopher diaz has two dads, firehouse crew as family it's golden, like daylight by: rarakiplin "the sun comes up" word count: 8.7k important tags: getting together, weddings, fluff, first dates when you come home by: 7ate9 "buck was surviving. that was the least he could do. survive with his son, his new position as a probationary firefighter, while his fiance was overseas. it was too painful to talk about. so no one could know." word count: 19k important tags: army!eddie diaz, reunions, firehouse 118 crew as family, engaged!evan buckley/eddie diaz don't tell my husband (he'll kill me) by: coupe_de_foudre all bobby has to say, as buck is hightailing it towards danger, is a low, threatening, “don’t make me call eddie.” and buck will skid to a stop, pause, and eventually turn around and slink back towards the team like a scolded dog with his tail between his legs." word count: 2.6k important tags: army!eddie diaz, hurt/comfort, light angst, married buddie, pov outsider blindspot by ashwinmeird "hen was starting to accept that buck's life would always be a mystery to her and the others. Then the 136 gets a new probie, eddie diaz, and buck doesn't appear to be the guy's biggest fan. but there's something, some secret, hen isn't privy to and she was going to get to the bottom of whatever was happening between buck and eddie." word count: 10k important tags: alternative universe, pov outsider, oblivious, confusion, relationship reveal

give me a sign, i want you next to me by: 42hrb the 118 knows buck has a really cute kid and a partner he loves, they just think that partner is his husbands ex. word count: 7k important tags: army!eddie diaz, different first meeting au, married buddie, evan buckley and shannon diaz friendship, family fluff and the winner is.... by: heartsdalliances "when maddie convinces buck to join her and the rest of the couples of the 118 on a couples game-show with eddie as his partner, he does so hesitantly, if only because he knows that by the end of it -- the rest of the team will realize he and Eddie are way more than best friends." word count: 18k important tags: game show, fluff, angst, 118 team as family

there's a rumor going around (about me and you) by: justhockey “$100 says he’s not taking a girl home tonight,” eddie wagers. all four of them look at him with stunned looks on their faces, as if they can’t possibly believe eddie is being so stupid. eddie shrugs, holds his arms out in a take it or leave it kind of gesture. of course, they all think he’s insane, so -- “deal,” athena says." word count: 3.1k important tags bets and wagers, drinking, clingy!eddie diaz, karaoke, coming out, flirting welcome to the family by: shutupheather "eddie gets hurt on the job. the team meets and comforts his husband in the hospital waiting room." word count: 3.4k important tags: married buddie, alternative universe, hurt!eddie diaz, worried!evan buckley finally found it right here by: justhockey "he just wants to sleep. but then eddie is placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and shaking. - “buck, what did you just say?” - buck huffs out a sigh. “i said maddie is in lab-“ - Oh fuck. word count: 3.4k important tags: coming out, babies, fluff

explicit rated secret relationship fics

#will definitely be doing a pt2 for this trope #911 fandom #911 show #911 abc #911 fox #buck x eddie #buck x eddie fic #buddie fic #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #buddie fics #ao3feed #ao3 link #ao3 #secret relationship #book tropes

[jkl-fff]

Obsession in a Good Cause

Since I finally watched Season 4 of "Lego Monkie Kid" today (MAGNIFICENT!), I feel the need to extol and ramble a bit about something deeper I noticed. A profound, recurring theme that really elevates the series in yet another way I wasn't expecting from silly lego people having magic, kung fu adventures with monkeys and such (gods damn, this show really has no business being this good).

And it's how characters with noble intentions and even kind hearts repeatedly fall to an obsession to make things *better* in some way. They can never leave well enough alone, they can never settle for good. And then ... in pursuit of making things *better*, they end up succumbing to a mentality of "The Ends Justify The Means" that winds up making things so much worse AND costing them everything they held dear.

Spoilers below.

Season 1 starts off with Demon Bull King, an archetypal bad guy, especially for a cartoon; he's big and strong, he wants to rule the world, he wants revenge for being trapped under a mountain, he's even cruel to his son. But a funny thing happens after his Season 1 finale butt-kicking: He spends some time bonding with his son (who he now sees grew up without him yet still only wants his love and approval) and worrying about his absent wife (while also being pretty sure his kickass wife can kick the ass of anyone who comes after her). Then, after being saved by people he ought to consider his enemies, he just ... goes home and mellows, watches some cooking shows, and spends more time with his family. Just being happy with them.

Everything we learn about DBK after that is practically a flashback to his pre-imprisonment days at minimum more than 500 years ago. And it makes one thing clear: he loved his family with a fierceness that would face down armies. Literally. He fought the Celestial Realm with his sworn brothers ... and I'm pretty sure he tried to conquer the Mortal Realm originally to build what he would consider a fitting kingdom for his wife and son. (Before he became obsessed with conquest itself, thanks in part to Lady Bone Demon's influence--obsessed enough even to lash out at the two people he was doing it for). That last one, I admit, is speculation, but I think it fits with how tenderly he was shown to love his family in the past and how mellow and domestic he becomes after letting go of conquest and just deciding to live in the moment. It was principally for them, like a father who spends too much time at work to provide for his family. Arguably a noble cause, but he became so obsessed with it that he lost 500 years of his life (and nearly the rest of his life) with them.

(Princess Iron Fan and Red Son both demonstrate it to a lesser degree, I reckon. Their relationship was not really loving at the start of the series, probably having suffered as a result of their obsessive drive to free DBK at any cost. Then to please him after his return. At least until he crossed a line--under LBD's influence--and lashed out physically at them, prompting them to leave him ... until he came back to them.)

Next there's Lady Bone Demon ... She's as terrifying and seemingly inevitable as death itself (fittingly, even Sun Wukong is scared of her), and her goal isn't to conquer the universe, but to destroy it.

Why, though? To make a better, perfect world free of the pain that plagues this one. Because she sees this world as fundamentally imperfect, and that imperfection at its very heart is the reason for all the pain in the world. From a certain perspective, she champions a very noble cause ... It's simply unfortunate that the world and everyone in it needs to be mercy-killed for her plan to work. But what's a little pain now to prevent greater pain later, right? It'll be over quickly, and then everything will be better for everyone ... somehow. Never mind the pleasure and happiness and joy people find in their lives despite (or even because of) the world's imperfect nature; she knows better so she will make things better, even if she must make everything worse first.

(Likewise for Spider Queen. She's so obsessed with reclaiming power she once held, that she loses the good thing she has left with her three loyal subjects. Instead of moving on and starting over and living a good if humbler life ... she dies.)

Then we come to Azure Lion and Yellowtusk (not so much Peng, as he seems to have always been more self-serving, but whatever). Two former warriors of the Celestial Realm who rebelled after seeing its corruption and indifference to mortal suffering. Where LBD was cold and nihilistic, they are warm and reformative. Their ideological position is that the flaw isn't with the world itself, but with those in power who care more about their own wealth, position, glory, and appetites than the needs of the common people. Replace the current leaders with ones who actually care about good governance--who have compassion for mortals--and they believe things *must* get better.

And GODS DAMN that's a sympathetic cause. How do you argue against it, given everything that's shown of the Celestial Realm's inactivity and isolationism? How do you argue against it when that's the story of real world politics? How do you not admire their courage and perseverance to try a second time after getting beaten down?

But it isn't enough for Azure Lion to reunite with Yellowtusk and Peng, just like it wasn't enough to form his own utopic kingdom where he could make a real difference (Note: A region they seemingly drained of life to form?). He could've had a good thing and walked away, but it wasn't enough. He was obsessed with casting down the Jade Emperor and replacing him to make *everything* better, so it was worth every dishonorable act he had to commit along the way. Lie to MK and Mei, let the others suffer through the scroll, imprison a sworn brother (and his family) when he chooses not to join yoir fight, slay a celestial army (and it seems a good deal of the palace staff), and risk the cosmos tearing itself apart? Strike preemptively at a potential threat even to the point of levelling mountains and slaying innocent mortals? All justified to keep his power, because he's the only one who will use that power responsibly and honorably. Ironic and tragic.

Finally ... Sun Wukong himself. What I love about Season 4 is how we see him before and druing that pivotal Journey to the West. And we get the perspective of several people who were very close to him before it--his sworn brothers. Azure and Yellowtusk admired how deeply SWK cared for his monkey subjects enough to be inspired to rebellion against the Celestial Realm, and even enough to choose SWK as their original replacement for the Jade Emperor. Macaque arguably loved him as more than a brother (if you interpret their interactions that way) and was prepared to follow along despite believing SWK should just stay on Flower Fruit Mountain and live happily ever after.

But Macaque gives us a fascinating insight into SWK's character before even that--insight into why SWK went to train with Madter Bodhi and raided the peaches and pills of immortality and so on. He feared death, he feared the good times ending, he never felt secure enough. He always needed more immortality, more power, more of a guarantee that things would stay wonderful for himself and those he cared about. Which eventually saw him imprisoned under a mountain, alone; which eventually saw him indentured to Tang Sanzang and forced to combat his sworn brothers; which eventually put him right back on Flower Fruit Mountain without any of his old or new friends. He was obsessed with things being *better* than they were ... and that inevitably cost him in the past, and threatens what happiness he does have in the present.

Thankfully, like DBK, he is capable of learning to move on. Hopefully, he'll be able to do so (and can help MK learn to do the same) before it's too late.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #sun wukong #monkie king #demon bull king #lady bone demon #azure lion #yellow tusk elephant #obsession

[mixelation]

oh yeah, i binged Buddy Daddies over the weekend! some thoughts (spoilers ahead)

If you haven't heard of it, Buddy Daddies is about two professional hitmen, Kazuki and Rei, who happen to be roommates (and they were roommates......). During one of their hits, they accidentally acquire a four year old girl named Miri and end up raising her. The set up for this is, and the escalation to them taking her in until they can find her mom to genuinely wanting to be her family, is zany but feels organic within the universe.

Now, the initial set up for this show is completely unhinged in a way that deeply entertained me. Kazuki, who is the "brains of the operation," is attempting to sneak himself and Rei (local pathetic wet man and "human weapon") into their mark's Christmas party by delivering a cake. Prior to this we see Kazuki cooking for Rei and feeling unappreciated for his efforts, with the implication that Rei never compliments his cooking, a hobby Kazuki greatly enjoys. Throughout this set up, we also see shots of a little girl walking around and asking strangers for directions.

The Christmas party is at a hotel. Kazuki pushes a cake cart into an elevator and Miri simply follows them in, a second before the doors close. She's amazed by the cake and Kazuki, who we are already having hints at having lost a previous family, and who is the more social of the two roommates, offers to let her try. Miri loves the cake, and Kazuki finally feels appreciated. Then they get off the elevator, and the entire assassination attempt goes to shit. There's a shoot out. The mark takes Miri hostage and aims a gun at her head. Shenanigans happen such that Kazuki ends up with Miri in his ams, and we don't feel bad at all when the mark is killed.

Not seeing anything else to do about her in the moment, especially since he can't go to the police, Kazuki takes Miri home with him. She doesn't know any information to help him get her home. She tells him she came to this city to find her papa, and she has a note from her mom explaining that.... her papa is actually the mark they killed, OOPS.

Oh, and Kazuki told her he's her papa as part of his rescue attempt.

The rest of the series is largely about Kazuki and Rei struggling with their personal demons and flaws, and learning to open up to each other and Miri and curb their negative qualities for both Miri's sake and their roommate's sake. Rei, for example, is a "shut in" who doesn't even try any household chores like cooking or cleaning. Kazuki has a gambling problem. They both have their own family dramas they have to face.

I've read a few complaints of queerbaiting in this show, but I don't think that's what's going on here. There's a couple jokes about Kazuki being a "mom," but they don't turn Kazuki and Rei into a "husband/wife, but they're both men!" style dynamic. They don't really tease the audience with forced semi-sexual or semi-romantic situations. It's made pretty clear by the end of the series that Kazuki and Rei love each other deeply, but they stay pretty non-romantic and non-sexual. The series just isn't concerned with this.

Miri is sort of a morality pet and doesn't really get her own character arc, but she still has her own personality. She also doesn't quite fall into "personalityless child is perfect cute prop"-- Miri gets obnoxious in fairly normal kid ways. The story is a little too afraid of letting her get hurt IMHO-- like, I get it's a zany fun comfort series, and certainly I don't want to see her in real peril and I definitely don't want her to be traumatized-- but she never has to overcome or deal with her own little four year old struggles. There's an episode where she has a hard time making friends, but this turns out to be because Kazuki insisted on dressing her in designer clothes, and the other kids don't want her to get them dirty. The problem is solved immediately by simply dressing her in cheaper clothes. Or, there's another episode where she "gets into a fight," but then it turns out it was an accident, and the other "mean" kid is won over simply by Miri liking the same video game as him.

I do appreciate that Miri witnesses two shoot-outs and also occasionally wakes up in strange new places and is not phased by any of these events. This series is a comedy, after all-- it's meant to be fun, and leaving the cute kid untraumatized is an important part of the tone staying fun. I'm not criticizing this choice with her. But I think she'd have been a stronger character and the family dynamic would have been deeper if, for example, she'd actually hit someone and her hitman co-dads had to deal with that.

My other big complaint is that the hitmen stuff is largely dropped after the first few episodes, but then comes up again in the climax, when Rei's mafia boss dad decides Miri and her mom need to die. Miri comes away unharmed in the resulting conflict, but her mom is killed. Kazuki then lies to Miri about where her mom is (although the last scene is post time-skip and it's implied Miri knows her mom is gone). Not showing Miri processing this loss at all takes away from her character. Also, the finale is that Kazuki and Rei quit being hitmen so they can raise Miri together.

My issue with this ending is one part I signed on for hitmen shenanigans, and one part that I think by leaning away from this premise, the ending feels..... kind of weird? Like it's heart warming that the papas want to change and be better for Miri, but also they are responsible for both her parents' deaths. How am I supposed to feel good about that? If they'd continued with the unhinged hitman premise, this stark contrast between "three unrelated people are a happy family" and "child living with her parents' killers" would have been easier to process thematically. Okay, that last characterization is a little harsh-- Miri's bio dad left her mom while she was pregnant and threatened to kill Miri, meanwhile her mom was killed by a different hitman, albeit explicitly for her involvement with Rei. But those technicalities are easy to embrace when I'm already leaning into a whacky show about morally loose hitmen, and harder to ignore when I'm supposed to take "no longer being a murderer for hire" as an important bit of character growth.

All that being said, I don't think the ending was a bad one. It was emotionally satisfying. The found family triumphed over Rei's shitty blood family. Rei and Miri finally made French toast. I was happy.

I found this show because it gets compared to Spy x Family a lot, probably largely because they aired concurrently. There are some similarities-- enough that I'd recommend Buddy Daddies to any Spy x Family fans without many qualifiers-- but Buddy Daddies is pretty firmly its own thing. While I think Anya is a better written kid character than Miri (see my paragraph about Miri not having to deal with her own conflict), I have been frustrated recently with Yor and Loid's lack of character development. Buddy Daddies largely delivers on its two "parent" characters' arcs. and yes, i realize part of this is that BD is a 12 episode complete series and SxF is an ongoing manga. Buddy Daddies is also entirely about family as a theme; Spy x Family goes into this a little, but I think it gets overshadowed by the dual-role and anti-war themes.

Overall, would recommend...... unless you hate kids. Then I think you will hate Miri's constant shrieks of joy LMAO

#mixed bag #buddy daddies

[littleadaline]

Mon rayon de Soleil [M.G38]

Reader is Marc’s sunshine

Warnings: noooooone

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I will be attempting to write this story using first person POV, so please please pretty please tell me if that is something you enjoy reading, or if you prefer the 3rd person POV.

————————————————————

Days off were my favourite. I always wanted to go out, see the beach, despite having seen it hundreds, if not, thousands of times. My ideal day off consisted of waking up early, packing sandwiches, and spending the day out. Marc, on the other hand, had a very different vision. His ideal day off consisted of staying in bed and ordering in, wether it was breakfast, lunch or supper. In order to make each other happy, we compromised. We would sleep in, pack some light snacks for the afternoon, spend the afternoon at the beach, and come back home in time to order supper. This morning, things were different. I was woken up by an alarm coming from my parents’ bedroom. Lazily opening my eyes, I took a quick glance at the clock on my phone, groaning as I read the time; 8:33 A.M. I sighed, exhausted from only having gotten 4 hours of sleep, blame social media. As I was getting up to get on with my day, I heard noises coming from the kitchen. I knew my dad was already off to work, and my brother was away for university, so I couldn’t identify the man’s voice coming from the kitchen.

“Do you think she’ll like this?” It was Marc’s voice. What was he doing in my kitchen at 8:33 on a Wednesday?

“I have told you a thousand times, yes. She goes crazy for those pickled peppers. Add that to calamari sandwiches and she’s on cloud nine.” My mom confirmed with him.

“I really want her to have a nice day. She’s told me how stressed she’s been with work and school. And she’s been really keen on trying that new spa that opened.”

“So what do you have planned for her today then?”

“Bocadillos by the beach, some ice cream, by the beach again,” he grinned, “And a pamper session to finish the day. Should I… should I go wake her up?”

The floor creaked as I leaned into the doorway. My mom’s gaze diverted back to me, Marc still clueless about my presence.

“No need to wake her up.” She chuckled as Marc’s gaze found my figure standing in the doorway.

“Good morning nena, how’d you sleep?” He leaned in to kiss my forehead.

“Morning amor. I slept well, thank you.” I left a kiss on his cheek, my hand resting on his abdomen. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation. We’re going to the beach?” I asked, walking over to the sink for a glass of water.

“Yeah, I got us some sandwiches and pickled peppers, courtesy of that sandwich shop you never seem to shut up about.” He playfully rolled his eyes. I chuckled, admiring the sight in front of you. Marc, with his eyes still full of sleep, yet so full of life; the way his dimples creased whenever he laughed, or so simply spoke. Every moment spent with him, I would fall deeper in love with the beauty of his personality and the way his eyes shone whenever I was in the room.

“And later in the afternoon, we’re gonna grab ice cream. Fermín and Gavi went there recently and they have not been able to shut up about it. Half the team now wants to go there.” He broke in a fit of laughter. “And to end the night on a sweet note, a massage session at that new spa place you have been raving about.” He pulled me into a hug, his abdomen pressing against my back. I could drown in moments like these. The simplicity of our relationship, the innocence of our love breathed life into our couple every day.

“There’s yogurt in the fridge if you want to grab a light snack before heading out. I should be done changing in 15 minutes.” I pecked him on the lips before leaving the kitchen.

Marc sat down at the dining table, making sure the backpack he had packed for the trip had all the essentials.

“Sunscreen, mosquito spray, bandages, snacks…” He was counting under his breath when I emerged back into the living room, having traded my pj’s for a pair of linen pants, one of Marc’s t-shirts that he had accidentally thrown into the dryer, and my sandals. I had my tote bag on my shoulder, bucket hat in hand.

“Ready to go amor?” I asked him, my hands resting on his forearm.

“Let’s go!” He kissed my cheek, grabbing my hand. We both waved goodbye at my mom as we left the house. Lucky for us, the beach wasn’t too far away from my house. After having lived in this neighbourhood my entire life, I learned new pathways to access the beach that would shield us from tourists or in this case… fans.

When we made it to the beach, the sun was shinning bright, pulling a groan from me. This did not go unnoticed by Marc, who dropped his backpack into the sand, yelling;

“Stay here! I’ll see if I can find us a spot in the shade!”

I sat down, my toes digging in the sand. I always liked this spot. When I was younger, my family and I used to spend our days out there, bringing a backpack filled with snacks and sandwiches and enjoying the weather from dawn until sunset. I heard Marc’s voice calling me as he waved me over.

“I found us a spot! It’s under a tree, so it’s got all the shade in the world!” He said excitedly.

Marc was referring to the ‘Forever Tree’. Back in the days, there used to be a rumour running around regarding the Forever Tree. Over the course of generations, couple who had sat down under the tree were known to be bound forever, their union only ever separated by death. But as time went on, the tree lost its popularity, leaving only a few locals to know about its ‘magic’.

“Do you want to start by going for a swim or eating?” Marc asked me as he laid down his towel on the ground.

“A swim would be nice. The heat’s killing me.” I chuckled as I took off my (Marc’s shirt), my pants following soon.

“Race you to the water?” Marc flashed me his killer smile before taking off in a sprint.

“Not fair! You’re the athlete, not me!” I yelled before running into the water, jumping into his arms. Marc caught me, surprised, before putting me back down on my feet, his hand never leaving my back. I could stay in this moment forever. Marc and I, in the water, chest flush against one another. The sun gently caressing our skin, prickling us with its rays. If I had one more moment to live, I would choose to spend it like this.

Marc’s movement pulled me out of my thoughts. His hand was now resting on my head, his fingers slightly brushing through my curls. He breathed in, his chest slowly rising against mine. His skin smelled of sunscreen, his perfume and my body mist, a combination of smells that symbolized home to me.

“I’m getting cold, I’m gonna lay down on my towels and enjoy some sun.” I let go of his hand, slowly emerging out of the sea. I could feel the sand clinging to my feet as I walked back to my towel. The sand was warm under my feet, the temperature slowly warming me up.

As I was setting up my towel in a warmer spot, Marc’s voice called out from the water.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to eat the sandwiches now?” I nodded yes as I chuckled. This guy was always thinking about food. Marc ran up to me, water dripping from his shorts and hair, before sitting down on my towel, his hand wrapping around my waist. I bent down to pick up a sandwich from the cooler before handing it to Marc.

“I hope they’re still fresh.” Marc said, biting into his sandwich. His eyes rolled back as he moaned in delight. “That is so fucking good.” He said, his mouth still full. “I need that recipe, one way or another.”

I laughed at his reaction, now taking a bite of my sandwich. Marc was right, these sandwiches were delicious.

“Holy- You’re right, we really do need the recipe. I could eat these day and night.”

We sat down in silence, basking in the sound of our sandwich wrappers and our delighted moans. Once we finished eating, Marc threw the wrappers away before sitting back down on the towel, pulling me closer to his chest.

“Alright princesa, spa next or ice cream next?”

“Mhh… The spa would be nice. Some mud mask would do wonders for our skin.”

Another hour went by before we started packing our stuff, making our way back to the house to get changed and head for the spa.

“Y/N? Are you ready to go?” Marc yelled out from the front door.

“Almost. I can’t find my wallet. Marc? Could you please start the car?”

I heard the door close and the garage door open. I found my wallet buried under my notebooks, on my desk. Sighing in relief, I grabbed my wallet and purse before exiting the house. A honk coming from the street caught my attention. I climbed in the car and Marc immediately drove off, catching me off guard.

“Hey there, you’re not a race car driver, Marc.” He laughed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He apologized, flashing me his lethal smile.

We arrived 15 minutes later to the spa, Marc pulling into the parking lot with a relieved smile.

“Doesn’t seem like a lot of people are here.”

Although Marc had progressed to sometimes playing with the first team, Marc’s family and I saw firsthand how fame had affected him. It wasn’t the fame per say, but the lack of privacy, the tabloids and being put on a pedestal by some fans, when he was simply an 18 year old kid with dreams and a bright future. I knew the smile of relief on Marc’s face wasn’t from the fact that we had finally made it to the spa, but rather, the decreased chances of being recognized in public.

“Marc…” I said as he turned off the car’s ignition.

“Mh?” He stopped in his tracks.

“Let’s skip the spa.” I blurted out, avoiding eye contact.

Marc shifted back into his seat to look at me.

“What do you mean? I thought you wanted to come here?” He sat back down in his seat.

“I did and I do, but I would much rather do something with you where you don’t constantly have to look out for a crowd or fans. Seeing how relieved you were when you realized there weren’t a lot of cars in the parking lot made me realize you wouldn’t be able to relax. You wouldn’t have enjoyed this outing, and neither would I.”

“So what do we do now?” He took my hand in his, his thumb brushing over.

“Let’s go home, put on a movie and do some sheet face masks. We can still get ice cream in the evening.” I pecked him on the lips, my hand finding the nape of his hair.

“Alright, princesa. But I pick the movie this time.” He jokingly pouted.

The drive back home was calmer, the sun blessing us with its golden rays. I closed my eyes, the smooth roar of the engine lulling me to a near state of sleep. I could smell Marc’s perfume travel around the car every time he looked over at my still figure.

“Keep your eyes on the road, cabrón. We have a movie to watch and ice cream to eat. It would be a shame to die because you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me.” I teased him, my eyes half open. I heard Marc laugh and shake his head before I closed back my eyes. Marc finally pulled into my driveway and slightly nudged me awake.

“I’m awake!” I yawned. Marc turned off the engine before sliding out of his seat and running to the passenger door.

“M’lady.” He opened the door for me, his hand extending to mine.

We made it back to the front door, walking in to find the house empty and dark.

“I’ll grab the face masks and blankets. You can pick the movie in the meantime. Popcorn?” I asked him, standing in the bathroom doorway.

“I can do popcorn. I’ll grab us some water.” I grabbed the face masks from my not-so-secret stash and the blankets from the bathroom closet. Marc already had the popcorn in a bowl.

“So,” I said, throwing a blanket at him. ”What are we watching?” I scooched closer to him, my head resting on his shoulder.

“Grown Ups.”

Marc turned on the movie and snaked his arm around my shoulder, forcing me to be flush against him. We stayed in the moment, erupting in laughter every now and then, our bodies pressed against each other, the feeling being more than familiar to us. My hand found his index finger, grabbing it gently. Marc let me.

Neither of us liked to admit it, but this simple action brought us both comfort. The thought of knowing that we had each other, we could rely on one another. Maybe I was looking too far into the future, but the only thing on my mind was to continue these little traditions with Marc as my husband; Marc as the father of our children.

As the credits rolled, Marc nudged me awake.

“Falling asleep again, mhh?” He teased me. “Let’s skip the ice cream. I’ll pick you up tomorrow after training.”

“What? No, Marc, I feel awful. We already skipped out on the spa, the ice cream was the easy part.”

“Hey, the ice cream will still be there tomorrow. We’ll go shopping after training and grab some ice cream on the way home. Deal?” He reached to peel off my face mask.

“Deal.” I whispered, feeling his gaze burn through my skin. My cheeks were heating up.

“That mask did wonders. You’re glowing. Like a ray of sunshine.” He kissed my forehead.

“I’m your ray of sunshine.” I smiled at him, fighting a yawn.

“That… you are.” He pecked my lips before scooping me up and carrying me to the bedroom.

He laid me down on my side of the bed before sliding under the covers, his arms finding my abdomen. I laid my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly slow down.

“Good night, sunshine.” He kissed my temple.

“Good night my love.” I kissed his hand.

Marc’s breath slowed down as he fell asleep, his grip loosening on my waist. I nuzzled myself in between his arms, finding comfort in the warmth of his body.

That’s what I loved about our relationship. We adapted to one another, we went with the flow. We found time to show up for each other, despite our busy schedules and the difference in our worlds. Marc brought warmth in my life, stability, amongst the journey that was… being a teenager. And I was eternally thankful for that night we met.

#marc guiu x reader #marc guiu imagine #marc guiu #fc barcelona #barca #barcelona #march guiu one shot #pablo gavi #pedri #gavi #fermin lopez #ferran torres #littleadaline

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#sorry im thinking abt death again #because it's weird to think that ive been in the room. maybe a meter away from someone as they died #that someone being my mom. its just weird. the time in the hospital feels like it happened in some dark little pocket universe detached from #time. a calm room and then the soft blips of a monitor then the nurse rushing in to say she'd passed #i dont kno y ppl use that phrase: passed on. i mean i do. it softens the topic. makes it sound peaceful. ive yet to use it. i just say she #died bc thats what happened. is that insensitive? i dunno. when i was home i realized that i come off as much stranger than i think. the way #my family see me doesnt fit how i see myself. i dont kno what to do with that. i dunno. theyre all together today #for an early easter. and im halfway across the country again. nose so stuffy ive had to mouth breathe for the last 3 days #and again. everything feels the same as it did before but also profoundly different. sometimes i cry in the mornings. or when i think abt #future vacations she wont be there for. bc in the end she quickly slipped away in a way that couldn't be described as peaceful until her #last half a day. and all i can think about in that tiny room is how scary it would be to lose control like that #and how its not fair and she didnt deserve to die only halfway through a lifetime. but its not about fair and its not about deserving. #sometimes bad things just happen. that's life. and now i own a book called motherless daughters. and now im standing with the countless #others who've lost their moms too early. ive already become aware of 3 ppl in my daily life who are in the same club #i keep thinking about this moment that happened between my parents at the hospital. apparently my dad was helping her get cleaned up and her #stomach was so bloated she looked like she had a bby in there. which my dad said. and my mom apparently said: but it's a baby no one want. i #dont kno y that upsets me so much. all the things i heard abt her being in the hospital before i got there upset me. and the rest of my #family was there to see it. so i have the least traumatic version of the story. and i got almost 27 years with her. except my sisters #probably got more time with her bc i spent so much time away. or maybe not. i dunno. #i dunno. im just sad that shes gone and sad that it was drawn out even a little bit. 6 days isnt long but im sure it felt like an eternity. #again not fair. nothings fair. 53 years of unfairness culminating in a tragedy. she would hate me characterizing it like that. she lived a #full life as they say. full with an asterisk on account of length #unrelated

[quietwingsinthesky]

at some point i am going to have to force even to go back and deal with donna & tentoo & rose & all and everything they ran away from. and that will probably involve them losing tentoo’s chameleon arch watch by giving it back to its rightful owner, whether she chooses to open it or not. and that is. not going to be a very fun or stable time for them.

#this part is v vague and fuzzy because i want to watch the rest of 12 & 13 and finish the doctor/donna specials before i set anything in #stone about it. but i think i need to rearrange some things in the timeline here vis a vis when the doctor is also forced to go back and #deal with his baggage. #i dont think 14 exists in even’s universe for this reason. and for the reason of tentoo kind of taking on his role? the human part of the #doctor who can stay with donna & with rose. #she’s also trans to me because i love trans!tentoo. her name is johanna. i think it’s pretty. i make a singular exception to my rule of #never changing characters names when i trans them. #but i think. what im getting at here is that this cant be a happy ending. not so cleanly. its more bittersweet. #like i think this version of the story. what i have so far. donna does remember. (tentoo doesn’t but that’s because she’s become her own #person. the doctor is who she came from but she isn’t just the doctor anymore.) and rose knows her doctor is out there and loves her but #she has her wife at home. #and even. oh even. you can’t hold onto a heart that’s not yours forever. you have to give it back. #this. i think. is a moment of respite and recovery for the doctor. and a really really low point for even. however this works out. #its not perfect but there’s kindness in it. and there’s a home to go back to. if they can bear it. both of them. #but like i said. this is all preliminary based on what i might play around with here. and how watching more of the show changes my ideas. #but i think. whatever revelations come in 13’s arc. i think in even’s universe they have to come after donna. i’ll find a way to make it #work. #but mostly right now the important thing is forcing even to give up the watch because why would i let them have one single comfort object <3 #dw oc

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

#i feel so isolated from everything bc i’m not in school rn but all my friends are and 90% of the ones who are in state go to the same school #so they’re all in the same town and here i am 45 minutes away #i never get invited to anything bc 1) my friends all tend to make plans really last minute #and 2) if we want to go out and drink - which we usually do bc that’s the stage of life we’re in rn - i’d have to stay the night with #someone bc i absolutely cannot afford a 45 minute uber home and most of my friends don’t like staying over / having people stay over #so i have basically no social life and it’s only gotten worse in the past couple months since i got laid off from my main job #not only did i love that job but i loved my coworkers and work was pretty much the only time i left the house and interacted with people #and without that job i can’t even do the little solo things i used to do to cheer myself up like go see a movie #or even just go for a long drive bc i’m broke (as in i have $17 in cash to my name and am like $1000 in debt rn) #so all i do is rot in bed all day and apply for jobs that i’m overqualified for yet still don’t get hired #i barely even leave my room bc i avoid my family which just makes me feel guilty bc i love my family #but they get on my nerves so easily and most of the conversations i have with my mom end in her lecturing me about something and me crying #and on top of everything it’s just straight up embarrassing to be unemployed and completely directionless about college and living at home #logically i know i’m still very young and it’s common to live at home when you’re 20 but literally none of my friends do #i had a couple friends who lived at home for the first 2 years after high school and went to community college but by now they’ve moved out #and they’re all at universities and either graduating this year or next year meanwhile the earliest i could possibly graduate is in 2 years #i should be finishing my junior year rn but i’ve only completed my freshman year #i hated the school i was at and planned on transferring sophomore year but long story short that didn’t work out #even longer story short i ended up doing a semester each at 2 different community colleges and failed all my classes both times #and took 2 semesters off so now i’m a full 2 years behind and even though my freshman year was miserable #i’m starting to wish i stayed at that school anyway bc at least i would be at a university and accomplishing something #plus theres a huge difference between staying at home for a couple years after high school then moving out later #vs living on your own right away then having to move back home after you’ve already experienced having your own space #and on top of everything i have an older sister who’s a literal genius and graduated last year #and a younger sister who just finished her freshman year at the school i hated but she loves it and got perfect grades and made friends #so they’re both thriving and here i am living with my mom and my 13 year old brother and just completely failing at everything #i’m just so miserable and obviously moving out again and going back to school wouldn’t magically fix everything #but at least i would feel like my life was going somewhere and i wasn’t getting left behind by everyone i know #i just have no idea how to move forward and i feel like ever since high school not a single thing has gone the way i wanted it to #vent

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

#i'm overthinking something that i did and was told off for doing by my director #and on my way home i was thinking when was the last time i was even talked to like that during a production #and then i remembered the costume experience from hell of only a couple months ago that i've already began blocking out #but the thing is that that person was someone i knew i'd never have to work with again #i mean at first i thought i would have to work with them more. then they announced they were moving away immediately #so i only had to deal with them face to face for another weekish after that point and anytime they yelled at me #i was like 'cool. i'll do exactly what you say to do. and nothing more.' but then of course me being me #i did some extra stuff and they initially were like 'oh that's pretty' and then days later told me to cut everything i added #and like sure i get that the show was frozen but girl. that costume was unfinished. i was trying to finish it. it was frozen but looked bad #anyway. whenever they yelled at me and had actual malice in their heart i was like whatever. i was hurt. but i didn't care as much. #but this time it's someone i've worked with many many times before and it was about a habit i have that i know isn't great #but at the same time the thing that prompted it wasn't even me doing this habit it was something else #but she interpreted it as that habit and said that i can't do that on a production she's directing #and that if i couldn't stop then i could pull out from the production and there'd be no hard feelings between us #and honestly i think her reassuring that she knows i'm valuable and that she wants me there while also telling me not to do this thing #and the fact that she's someone i like working with and will continue to work with just made it all hurt so much more #especially since she referenced another past production we've done where i didn't even realize she had noticed that i do this. #and i found myself in near tears. and still am kind of in near tears. i can't decide if i need to cry or not. #and i had NO sleep last night so i was looking forward to sleeping tonight but now i'm just overthinking EVERYTHING #and like. i know everything will be fine. if i just stop inserting myself and stick to just my specific tasks. it'll be fine. #but this is one of the ways my ocd manifests. i feel like i have to personally fix something i notice going wrong. or it'll be bad. #because every single time i choose to sit back and not be nosy when i notice something it ends up bad in a way i could have prevented #if i just inserted myself in a situation i technically wasn't part of but knew i could help or fix. so i just need to not do that. #but then i feel guilt if it does go wrong in the ways i immediately assumed it would and in a way i could prevent. #and i've been trying to work on this for like 6 months and aaaahhhh it's hard and being called out on it from her just really really hurt #i still may or may not cry. i don't know. the irony of me telling my therapist THIS MORNING that it's been a while since i last cried. #and the universe being like 'i took that as a challenge' and handing me this situation for me to spiral over. #i need to leave things alone. i need to stare straight ahead. and ignore whatever isn't specifically for me to do. but ahhh i want to help #and then of course my mom has this same habit and it annoys me when she does it yet i do it to other people and ahhhhhhhh #brain please just shut up. i need to sleep. i have to work tomorrow.

[mxdotpng]

sitting here twiddling my thumbs trying to decide how adaline's story ends. it isnt happy either way but its a matter of how.

#.text #im actually doing homework. but still #adaline rozovy #u know its like either she dies or doesnt. and gets a fate worse than death. either way she does not get a happy ending #like on one hand. they bring her back to old sharlayan and try to heal her. they try so hard. but in the end it does not matter #and she is gone. #and she leaves everyone behind. #on the other. what if she just. didnt come back. #like if there was no way home from the end of the universe. and she was stuck there. wandering. waiting. #nobody would come find her. because they dont think there is anything left to find. #even then. how would they even get to her. #they couldnt. so she'd kinda just be. Gone. they would be holding out hope she would return & she would hope #They returned. but neither happens. #i dont think time like. moves. there. either. so he'd be laying there bleeding unable to do anything for so. so. long. #there is no hydaelyn there to save her either. #goodbye forever adaline u had a good run

[wifegideonnav]

ran into my ex best friend today. so that sucked.

#like thank god we didn’t actually interact #i was at my college’s scene shop meeting with its head abt a project #and he just happened to be there #but he kept fucking looking at me #fucking infuriating #at least my friend [redacted] was there #even tho we’re at a weird place rn. some of you may have seen. the posts abt that. el oh el. #at the very least she and I aren’t fighting it’s just tense bc she’s dealing with shit and needs space #whatever I’m getting off topic #almost cried in the car on the way home but like. im fucking done crying over that friendship #even though I have to remind myself that every time I think about it I am literally done #it just sucks cause it would be so much easier if he’d been a really shitty friend. but he was BOTH a shitty friend and a really good one #and I didn’t want that friendship to end. even though looking back I think it’s probably for the best that it did #but yeah. felt like a low blow from the universe to be reminded of losing him at the same time im temporarily losing ms redacted #which is a whole other vent post that im not actually gonna make bc I talked it through pretty well with my best-best friend #honestly it was a little poetic #whatever #personal

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

#simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #simonriley #simon riley #simon #simon riley call of duty #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simonrileysmut #ghost smut #simon ghost smut #ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #task force 141 #taskforce141

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Alright so one of the DCxDP Aus:

It's vaugley inspired by another post I can't find where Amity jumps around the country and sometimes field trips turn into week long road trips. Only vague because I saw: Fentons make the school buses turn into alien invasion shelters and brain went burrrrrrrr.

Anyways, so Superman is fighting off against aliens who have kryptonite. He's trying his best but he's failing, he can't get up.

Meanwhile, a school bus full of kids are watching. Amity Park, after their own world nearly killed them all being led by the GIW who managed to convince everyone ghosts were evil, had displaced itself and now bounces around dimensions. Usually it stays for a week so it's safe enough for trips but this time it didn't. No big, Danny can sense a portal in a city called Gotham so they were on their way when BANG invasion.

Danny thinks it's fun and frankly so does everyone else but Lancer who is exhausted.

Then they see Superman being hurt and…

Danny’s Obsession is both Protection and Space. They know Superman is an alien. He is the Ghost King and the class has become his Fraid through time. They all feel the need to protect.

So they do.

Danny bursts out of the bus first as Phantom and starts blasting. Sam is next, vines erupting from the ground to grab and drag aliens away, one of which she drags to Tucker so he can steal their tech to start hacking. Paulina is out with teeth bared and breathing fire, scales appearing. Dash is using his enhanced strength as Kwan using his super speed. Other kids pour out fighting. Then Star shouts: “KRYPTONITE IS HARDENED ECTOPLASAM! WE CAN EAT IT!”

The kids start snatching and chowing down as other heroes arrive. There are no adverse affects so they let the kids have their fun as they help Superman stand up.

At the end of the invasion, Mr. Lancer (who had come out to with a Blastor in hand) sighed. “Is there paperwork? We were trying to get to a portal in Gotham.”

Que: What?

Danny: “Yeah our home town we had to displace from our him dimension after they wanted to experiment on all of us. Amity pops up in a lot of universes and it's fun!”

Star: “Sometimes our field trips end with us finding the nearest portal though. Danny can find them.”

This just gets questions but like, Lancer is filling out paperwork and the teens are chatting with heroes happily so it ends up they just kind of roll with it.

The conversations are weird though.

Danny: “Ranking for this world?”

Sam: “Top ten. Not higher then Faerun.”

Tucker: “You just liked how you got involved in that one cult and helped summon a Nature God to murder a bunch of polluters.”

Sam: “And?”

Paulina: “I like that one world where everyone had some sort of power. That Midoriya kid was cute. To bad we got caught before we could sneak him on the bus.”

Lancer: “No kidnapping anyone to Amity!”

Tucker: “I liked the time we ended up on that one planet- Palaven? That was fun.”

Danny: “Yeah it was!”

The kids move on and Batman escorts them to Gotham. The portal turns out to be the Lazarus Pit (oh joy) and then life moves on.

Until a month later when Flash sees the kids at a Museum and learns Amity Park came back. The city begins hanging around more and we discoverAmith likes this dimension. It eventually settles near Gotham and Metropolis. Sometimes it vanishes but it always returns.

#dcxdp #dpxdc