#but there is a difference between ‘I remember like thirty years ago when you were tiny’

[risingmoonyue]

Star Wars AU where the council time travels back to when Obi-Wan was still an itty-bitty baby initiate. Including, you know. Council Member Obi-Wan Kenobi. So they’re all in their younger bodies and talking with the current non-time traveling members of the council, and they’re like “hold on, we got one more coming in”

And in walks in like. Nine year old Initiate Obi-Wan, all chubby-cheeked with fluffy bright red hair, and giant blue eyes.

Just. Their faces, okay?

Now keep in mind I want the council to always be Up To Shenanigans. I’m talking like 2015 Avengers tower found family era fics okay, they’re one big family and Obi-Wan is now super officially The Baby and literally nothing he does will ever stop that again. And despite everything, every single council member is, at heart, incredibly petty in that special Jedi family way and are so ready to not be dealing with a war Right This Very Minute.

What I keep picturing is Baby-Wan wiggling his way into a chair, situating himself Very Regally, then clasping his hands in classic Negotiator style, then speaking up with the Most Serious Of Tiny Baby Voices as the main spokesperson on the Council Of Petty Time Travelers

I just want to see people not in the know

I want Jedi of all ages witnessing Jedi masters, councilmen and women, long lived and wisest of the Jedi, coming to the crèche to visit tiny lil Baby-Wan about his opinions on current events and how they should handle this treaty and also when are you free I want to test my soresu

I just think it’d be funny

[livwritesstuff]

Steve’s oldest daughter Moe is unusually quiet on the drive home from her college apartment in New York City.

She was supposed to be doing this drive with her younger sister Robbie (who had bullied Steve and Eddie into letting her bring a car with her to college), but then Robbie and her friends had actually managed to squirrel away enough money for an impromptu trip to D.C. for their spring break, and Moe had still wanted to visit home even without a ride.

Steve had made a whole show acting all put out over having to make the four hour drive between her school in NYC and their house in the Massachusetts suburbs (twice, he’ll add — he’s been on the road for six hours so far with a couple more to go) but, truthfully, there isn’t much he wouldn’t do to spend time with his kids, especially since the older two have firmly graduated to young-adult status, and he easily could have put her on a train.

“So what’s goin’ on with you, Moe?” he finally asks when the quiet stretches a little to far.

Moe shrugs, and then she says, “I was wondering something.”

“Go for it.”

“You and Dad, like…you were older when you started dating, right?”

Steve pauses for a moment, allowing himself to consider what might qualify as older to his twenty-one-year-old daughter. 

“I guess it depends on what you mean by older,” he settles on telling her.

“I mean, you weren’t in high school anymore, even though you knew each other in high school.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, “I was halfway through grad school, so twenty-six, I think, and you know Dad’s not even a year older than me.”

Moe nods in return, and  then she asks, “And you were friends before anything else happened? Like, for a while?”

“Uh-huh,” Steve replies, “Dad, and Aunt Nancy, and Aunt Robin were my best friends. Still are, obviously, just…different over time.”

“But, like, how–” Moe stops, and Steve can tell without needing to look away from the road to check the way her eyebrows are furrowed, the way they’re crinkled in the middle just like they always are on the rare occasions Moe can’t find the words she needs. She lets out a short exhale, “How did you know that it changed?” Before Steve can answer, Moe shakes her head, “How did you know that what you were feeling wasn’t, like, friend things anymore? Or, like, that it was more than just friend things.”

“Uh,” Steve pauses, running a hand through his hair, “Honestly, Nancy kind of told me.”

Moe’s head turns in his direction.

“Aunt Nancy told you?” she asks, “Pop…that’s so lame.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happened.”

“Why?”

Steve thinks about it for a second. It’s funny, he doesn’t actually put too much thought into that time in his life – the seven years that had lapsed between becoming friends with Eddie in the aftermath of everything with the Upside Down and when they’d finally gotten together. That was nearly thirty years ago, after all, and Steve hasn’t ever really been the type to dwell on the past. He takes a moment to dwell on it now and remembers how long it had taken him to notice the dull ache behind his ribs and the anxious somersault his stomach had done every time Eddie so much as looked his way.

“I mean – yeah, you’re right. It’s…it’s not easy when you’re close with someone for a long time and then the way you feel about them changes, because, you know, it’s not – I mean, it’s not like it changes overnight. It’s gradual, so…yeah, it’s not easy.”

“Yeah,” she quietly agrees.

“Nance, just – well, you know Nance. She just clocked it before I did, and I guess she didn’t have the patience to wait it out. Once I knew though, it was, like, super fucking obvious. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known before.”

Moe’s laugh is nervous in a way Steve isn’t sure he’s ever heard before, and if there’s a friend of Moe’s she might be feeling differently for, he thinks he might have an idea which one. Moe is a hell of a lot smarter than him though, and this conversation is telling enough that she won’t need things spelled out for her in the way he had with Eddie thirty years ago.

“It was hard,” he continues, because he has a feeling Moe might need to hear more even if she isn’t asking for anything specific, “I – I mean, I actually liked dating when I was your age, believe it or not. I thought it was fun, or whatever, and it wasn’t really a thing that made me nervous, you know? With your dad, though…shit, I was terrified, because it’s a different kind of risk than just shooting your shot with someone you run into and hit it off with.”

Moe nods.

“I think the reason it’s so freaky is because falling for someone you’re friends with is never just a crush. I knew there was something big there. I know you guys hate when Dad and I are all sappy, but he was never just some guy I was dating. He was it for me from the very beginning.”

Moe mumbles something under her breath that Steve doesn’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“I don’t hate it,” she says, her voice still pretty low, and Steve knows that must have been difficult for her to admit so he doesn’t comment on it (though he will be telling Eddie as soon as he possibly can – obviously).

“Well, I’m just saying,” he replies, “I wasn’t feeling that way for nothing, and things turned out pretty good in the end. If someone was in a similar situation, I’d tell them…” he pauses, and then laughs as he says, “I’d tell them to not wait seven years to get a good thing started.”

“Alright,” she replies, “I’ll…yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

[archivesainz]

he hit me but felt like a kiss. 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ cs55

. . . Carlos likes to take care of young women like you !

genre: dark carlos, smoking, age gap (10 years), smut, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' and another’s, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, daddy kink, creampie, cheating (not with carlos x reader) and i can’t think more.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader.

a/n: I think this is a good way to start the account, asks, comments and likes are always welcome. english is NOT my first language, google translate.

I'M SORRY FOR WAITING ALL THIS TIME! I hope you all like it, happy new year!

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The waves of the beach were calming, you could already see the sun rise and its orange colours appear in the middle of the whitish sky. You did this a few times, when life disappointed you and you had to put up with it; you looked at your cell phone and the time marked '5:55', you laughed remembering the signs about looking at the “angel’s numbers”.

You get up, walking to your house that was not far away and try to enter without making noise, going up to your room and sinking into your bed to sleep a few hours before college.

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You met him in a bar, he bought you a drink and you talked. On the dance floor he glued his body to yours and danced until you accepted the invitation to go to his house.

Now you're getting into his fancy and stuck car, and he's taking you home.

His icy hands came into contact with yours hot thigh, a junction of ice and fire, you felt anxious not only to be going to the house of a guy you met an hour ago, but also to the fact that your hand seems to rise more and more. You wanted to, but you wouldn't say, he also wanted and wouldn't say so he decides to start his game, you confess to yourself that choosing a skirt was a good choice, easy access and no winding. But no, he liked to get the most out of you, instigate you until you were begging him to stop, you didn't ask his age but assumed that he was over 20 years old. You laugh to yourself because you're going to fuck an older guy.

"Sorry to ask... how old are you?" You say it in such a soft voice that it makes it squeeze in the car seat.

"Thirty-two... why the question? Don't you like older guys?" He says, sarcastic with his elbow resting on the car door.

10 years. 10 years of difference between you, that's not bad, right?

"I like it, I love learning new things with experienced people."

He smiles on his side, lightly squeezing your thigh and slowly sneaking into your wet core. You sigh strongly, you are sure he heard and must be smiling while you close your eyes strongly the hand that was on your thighs disappears.

"Do you mind?" He says with a cigarette in his hand and a dark look.

You do it with no with your head and hear the noise of the lighter and the smell of the cigarette inhaling your nostrils. While he puts the hand that was the cigarette back on the steering wheel and touches its your core again, it is light and dirty his touches make you want more, want more from him and his body, he was driving you crazy.

You hold the door when he presses his fingers there, you let out a needy sigh and he smiles, you see that he stops the car and can see the dark house with lights that were mostly yellow he gets out of the car like a real rider opens the door for you and holds your hand to get out of the car.

"Welcome, princess." He speaks seriously as he walks with you to the entrance and throws the end of the cigarette in a nearby trash can.

His hands quickly go to your body when you enter his house, the begging and needy lips were filled with kisses with a taste of drink and cigarettes. His beard gently passed through your skin, and gave you shiver more and more as you went up to his room, his eyes did not leave your body, your skin, your curves and your ass.

You smile when he takes you in his lap and gently puts you on the bed, climbing on top of you and occasionally pressing your erection on your dressed pussy, involuntarily your hips push themselves up looking for more and you hear his low laugh.

"In a hurry, Cariño?" He asks, not taking his lips off your neck. "We have all the time in the world."

Carlos can't help it. He loses control, and passes the kisses to your lips again, and then to your still covered breasts. He's really attenuated by you. Your body is hot, and it looked like it was going to explode like a volcano.

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He grabbed your neck as if it were fucking nothing for him and saw you widen your eyes even more, your fingers looking for some way to undo that touch that took his breath away. After all, everything was still very young.

"You want to act like a whore as if you know what you're doing... But you don't know, my love, you don't know nothing." - Smiling with mockery he whispered against his little mouth and then went to attack his reddish and swollen lips from so many bites.

You moaned tearfully squeezing yours legs even more against the larger body, feeling the man suck your lip in a hungry and hot way; he was hot. Carlos kissed you as if life depended on that and feeling your mouth trying to accompany him left him on the edge of the abyss. If you were the prize at the end of the abyss he would certainly play headlong. Carlos grunted hoarsely as he sucked your tongue, feeling your taste mixed with the cherry of the gloss and it was to lose the reins, he could not be judged. The man then raised his hands around your waist to yours breasts again, squeezing the small mounds covered by the fabric.

His reaction was to grung soft in the middle of the kiss and squeeze his fingers in Carlos' straight and hydrated hair. You begged for everything that was more sacred that throbbing sensation between his legs would relieve the fastest. Carlos then left your lips with a slight suck on your bottom, listening to yours sly grunt and aiming at your eyes shining together with his pink cheeks.

"Take off these clothes for me, take them off... - He whispered hoarsely, breathing heavily as yours squeezed from your feet covered by your socks to yours thighs.

Promptly you obeyed, with those huge bright eyes so reduced before that man between your legs. You took off your clothes burning in horniness and shyness, he already felt Carlos' property and this feeling was indescribably delicious. You exposed yours sumped tits to him and saw him almost salivate, and like a wolf he advanced. The right arm took her by the waist hard, pulling against her big and stiff body, making you feel all the hot erection inside the social pants. She sighed loudly with the grip and can't help but moan when he started a surreal suction on her skin, sucking as if it were the best candy in the world.

"Oh- my god... Fuck.. So good..."

You begged with your virginal aura so strong, shaking against it while he felt him trim it easily, firmly in one arm only, sucking and sucking on your chest as if it were vital to him and maybe it really was. His whining made him disturbed, crazy, completely out of his mind and could eat you right there. Actually, he couldn't, but he wanted to. Fuck the rest, he would go.

Carlos could be patient after all, he was just tasting as much as he could, making the most of your beautiful naivety and this was like an impulse directly on his hardened and painful cock, there so trapped under tissues.

"My beautiful doll... It's so nice to suck on these beautiful tits of yours..". Whispered between one snap and another with his feedings, where Carlos knew well what to do to leave you at the apex of hypersensitivity.

He smiled like the scoundrel he was and looked at you as he dropped his sore chest in one last suck or almost bite. He removed your lip between your teeth with his thumb and advanced with his tongue in your little mouth, kissing and stimulating you to the almost apex. You felt his sighs and breaths, losing your little head with every rude touch of it.

You was completely lost, Carlos was sure you were dripping, and he could confirm by putting his hand between the fabric of those panties, right in your center feeling your pussy completely hot and totally soaked. Holding on his shoulder, he grunted aiming at the act, yours red cheeks denounced your lack of imminent experience and that was the end of it.

He was so fucking big. You lost your breath with the man's firm hands removing everything that covered your body, dropping it on your feet, feeling exposed and at such a disadvantage when he was fully dressed. Your mouth salivated and your cheeks pinched when he saw the tent formed on Carlos' pants and wondered if it hurt as much as it did.

You took the liberty of touching there, insinuating himself indirectly and even without knowing it squeezed the piece of meat, feeling the hardness and how hot and pulsating his cock could be. She swallowed and aimed at him from that position, smiling naughty and curious watching Carlos return his smile as he kissed your little mouth and grabbed your cheek once again.

"Slut... You're getting well trained. Is this what you want, hm? - The big hand landed on yours and squeezed the cock the way you liked it, while waiting for your answer. "Answer you shameless whore! - Roughly forced the touch on your cheek and saw you whine.

"Yes! Yes...yes... I need to...— you squeezed your legs to each other trying to placate that frustrating situation of your pussy and saw him laugh, laugh in complete debauchery and excitement. Carlos loved to see you as a doll that he could clog with cum, that was the truth.

"Daddy will do whatever you want and will put up with everything like a good girl."

Carlos squeezed his own member in his pants and ordered hoarsely; "On all fours, open it well and lifts up to me."

You didn't want to wait, so you promptly went up on the bed with red cheeks and loapy eyes, swallowing in dry when you were on all fours close to the edge of the bed, opening as you could your little legs, procing your tail well towards him. Your entrances totally exposed and melated. Dripping demonstrated the power of man over your body.

Carlos without wasting any more time, which was all they didn't have, opened his belt and saw you retract only with the noise, leaning on his little hands he guided you to support yours elbows arching your spine as much as possible with the palm of his hand there, opening your little legs as it should be, almost grunting when he saw you so open to him.

"Shhh.. this, that way, daddy will prove it to you first, and you won't keep your sounds for yourself, will you?" He whispered with a false condolence and almost deceived you, because his naivety was such that he came to believe in that asshole. "This beautiful little bitch... That..." He caressed your entire prancing back and saw you sigh nervously, anxious almost biting your own forearm and all he did was smile.

He smiled arrogantly before running his finger between your folds and feeling the humidity. "Shit... so wet for me." He whispered to himself that you almost didn't hear him, and sighed in need by the contact.

Without warning you felt his nose touch your moist mound and his mouth suck your sensitive clit, you moaned loudly and you are sure you felt you smile while sucking you. His tongue made smooth and slow movements, which made you delirious and ask for more.

It was the best pussy he had tasted in his life and he was addicted. Carlos was a rotten man. You no longer knew how to differentiate between your own moisture and his saliva, he was making a mess on you and you love it.

He spent time savoring your taste and widening you with both his fingers, preparing you for his cock. You felt your stomach tighten and the moans get stronger, until the sensations in your core stop.

He smiled scoundrel before fitting his swollen head against your recently deflowered little entrance, squeezing your cute hips he forced himself inside, without mercy he buried every thick and pulsating centimeter, gasping loudly with every tight and resistance that his warm interior gave him.

"Fuck... I'll destroy you and you'll ask for more."

He forced your hips well, at the right angle to destroy you and invade your most intimate corner and watched you growl tearfully, perhaps with hot tears in your little eyes and your hand trying to push him away every inch. The man's big hands wandered from your tense little legs to your waist and the curve was divine, his palm fit almost perfectly.

"That's a lot...! Carlos... Daddy!" - You begged him to practically growl and put everything inside.

It was so big and the position didn't help, but it was perfect for him. You completely felt how he stretched you from the inside.

"Holy shit... how small it is, princess... So tight, mi amor..." And he caught you like a damn dog, clinging to your beautiful little body hit your hips under him, the heavy balls were felt by you and your hand went up to his hair, taking everything out there. "Perfect for me..." kissed your sweaty shoulder.

How would you get away with that? You had no idea, You just wanted to be eaten. Fucked up. Ruined.

Carlos and you could feel his cock hitting directly on your stomach and it was a surreal thing the way it filled you and opened you like that. Stunning. Your bitch moans delivered everything.

"Tell me..." he took your hair off your little face again, even in that position because he had a free pass for his whole body, regardless of how he caught you. "You like to feel my dick here, don't you?" He stocked up and heard you practically scream, covering your mouth in order to control your volume he laughed nicely in your ear, giving you goosebumps. "Speak... Speak that you like it when daddy hits you right here... What's up, bitch..." He forced himself and pressed your limit, watching you cry and stay completely away, dumb, delivered, having to literally hold you.

"I like it..! I like it so much, Daddy!" You begged out of herself, possessed by the absurd pleasure she felt. "Please...!"

Carlos stocked you willingly, with strength and it was nice, the melty noises were possible to be heard every time he buried and came back just to mistreat you again a little more.

"Daddy is giving you what he asked for, princess... relax your pussy, hm?" It was a theater because he loved the tension and every time he drove you crazy and felt you squeeze it all in there; so warm and humid.

"Daddy..! Daddy, please... I feel... I..."

"Daddy.. I... I... my God!" You was coming and couldn't stand it, squirmed all over and squeezed Carlos as if he wanted to expel him from there because you was so sensitive.

The tears slipped and the man held you firmly in place, grunting with the squeeze and whispering a sequence of "shh" in your ear.

"That... that... good girl... beautiful girl... So beautiful... It looks beautiful all the dumb cock like that... it came so tasty, my pretty..." He whispered as he filled the side of your sweaty little face with kisses, red as he loved to see; devastated.

You accelerated breathing and low eyes delivered that she was no longer in this world and that orgasm was overwhelming, her legs were honeyed with her honey and Carlos buried in her place left her with her nerves the flower of her skin. He grunted when he was picked up and malled like a little doll, feeling him more deeply, if possible, leaning his hands somewhere seeking relief from that extravagant feeling of being full; Carlos had sat her on his lap, and her little feet barely touched the floor. She was so small.

"Now it's Daddy's turn." Whispering in the middle of his dirty smiles Carlos made you jump, like a doll.

And he did everything, made her go up and down and her contained whining showed how sensitive she was, tears flowed and her honey also went down the man's throbbing cock, making a mess. He growled in your ear every time he impaled you on his own cock, demonstrating how close he was.

He saw in the mirror her destroyed image and how easy it bounced on the man's lap, soft and fucked. Completely fucked up, both the body and the mind. Her poor mind, all there was in her was him.

He was beautiful, big and strong, the reflection of the mirror showed how beautiful he looked as he pursued his own orgasm, eyes closed or semi-closed, lips between his teeth beautiful and frowning as he growled and growled in his ear and neck. Drops of sweat adorned his face.

Carlos' big and voracious hands ran all over you sensitive body, squeezing where he could and where he couldn't. He stopped on the inside of his thighs and raised them as if it were nothing, now pushing his hip willingly; he would cum.

"Fuck...! Fuck, mi amor..." And then he came, filling you with will and strength, so much shit that he seemed to be keeping it all to yourself, all this time.

He moaned or whimpered, she doesn't know, when you felt the whole heat hitting the cervix of your uterus, filling you in absurd levels; it was absurd. A fucking good feeling.

He smiled as he came down from his height and took a deep breath like someone looking to recover. Carlos raised his hip giving you the whole view of him buried in there and went right there, that was the point.

"See? Do you feel that? That's me. It's my fucking dick all inside you, hard as fuck..." Whispering against your cheek he spread his hand against the beautiful relief that was in your belly and you felt the tears flow in the mountains; that was surreal.

You spasmed like the good sensitive little whore you are, almost melting right there with the vision of that volume inside yourself. How could you stand all that? It was being destroyed little by little and that was exciting. You tipped your head on Carlos' shoulder and stirred dencosa, grunting when she felt too stimulated.

It was all too much, everything in Carlos for you was too much.

You hid your face in the curve of the man's neck, or at least tried, aiming from there at Carlos' ring finger; a fucking ring shone in pure gold.

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a/n: As I said, English is NOT my first language so if there is something confused or wrong please tell me!

[marleyybluu]

Two And Counting

husband/dad!Oscar Diaz x fem!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: 18+, smut in your rearview mirror, just a quickie, pregnancy sex, p in v, reverse cowgirl in the bathtub (heeeeeyyyy), just two people in love, some fluff, Oscar is vocaaaal, talks you through it.

A/N: I was high so excuse any misspellings, definitely not proof-read. Also I've never been pregnant lol so I have no idea if this would work irl, but hey that's why we're here, this is not real life.

this was fun to write lol but I lowkey don’t like the title

(not my picture, got it from Pinterest. I want him to **** ** *****)

It was late at night, the house was quiet. Almost too quiet. You were so used to hearing your five-year-old call your name, the repetitive "Mommy! Mommy!" Still ringing in your ear. You sighed, you'd dropped him off at your mother's house for the weekend, he loved going to grandma's and honestly? You needed a break. Just at least an hour to yourself. But now it was so strange not hearing him babbling around the house.

Once you'd come back home you had taken a well-deserved shower but after your shower, you just felt the weird urge to soak in a bath. So you hovered over to the detached bathtub and filled up the tub, squeezing a bit of your bubble bath into the water. You carefully dipped yourself inside the tub, and a sigh of relief and satisfaction left your lips. You smiled closing your eyes one hand on the rim of the tub and the other, palm splayed all over your growing belly. Six months. They'd gone by so quickly, your stomach grew— a huge difference between two months ago and now. It was crazy.

"Hi pumpkin, you okay in there?" You mumbled rubbing soothing circles on your belly. The flick of the bathroom light and the bright beams of the fluorescent bulb ruined your little relaxation time. You looked over your shoulder, your husband Oscar standing in the doorway. Wearing his flannel pyjama pants and... no shirt. Mhm.

His tattoos are on display for you, his arms crossed and his biceps flexed. Why did he have to be so hot? "You two having a good time in here?" He asked. "We were, turn off the light, that's what my candles are for." You complained. Oscar rolled his eyes turning off the light at your command, he walked in, now leaning against the counter. You smiled. "Done with your game?"

He nodded.

"Hungry? There are leftovers-"

"Already ate cariño." He interrupted. You nodded slowly. "How's baby doing?" A smile creeps on his face. He'd been showing all thirty-two teeth since you told him you were expecting another. You shuddered with delight remembering how he was when you were carrying your son. Oscar always had his hands on you, wanting to bend you over anywhere and anytime. He expressed how much he loved seeing you like this. Beautifully in your element, sugarcoating you by saying, moaning; "You were made to carry my babies." As he seemingly pumped another one inside you.

"He's good."

"She." He corrected. He was certain you were having a girl. "She." You mocked, though it did make your heart flip at the thought of him holding a baby girl. 

He asks, "Do you want some more company in there?" 

Your eyes twinkle at the offer and that's all the confirmation he needed before he began pulling down his pyjama pants off, his boxers were next. You gaze lasering down to his half-hard dick, your tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You nodded eagerly and made some room for him, you scooted forward and he sat behind you pulling you onto him once he was comfortable. You perch on his lap, leaning back into his hold. He wrapped his arms around you, a warm kiss on your cheek. "Te amo." He whispered. "Te amo. You miss Raphi yet?" You giggle. "I missed him the minute we left your mom's place." 

"Hm, me too." You hummed. Oscar's hands refused to stay in one place, rubbing circles on your belly, measuring the perimeter with his hands. "I can't believe we're having another one." He whispered. "I know," Your hands overlapping his. "We gotta have like four more." 

You gasped lightly pinching him. "Do you see what pregnancy does to a woman's body?" 

"I see what it does to yours. And I love it." 

Oscar couldn't keep his eyes off of you, you could always feel him staring through you-- a "You are so fucking fine." Would slip out every time. You playfully rolled your eyes, his hands sliding to the underside of your belly, a bit close to your heat, you not so subtly buck your hips forward. You moan at the faint brush of his dick against your pulsating clit. 

"We can have one more, and then we're done." You sighed, his hand slipped down further, his palm hovering over your mound. "Three." He bargained. There was no way this was happening right now. 

Your nipples poke you, his teasing was getting to you. "One." You insisted. He chuckled as his slender finger ran down your slit, teasing your hole. Your legs spread a bit wider but there wasn't much room in the tub. His warm lips sucking on your soapy skin, you smell like lavender and fucking sunshine, that's how you always smelt. So warm and inviting. That's how you were and that's why loved you so much. 

"Two." His last offer before his fingers slowly find their way inside you. "Ooh... Oscar." 

You could feel a smile of victory against your skin, he took his fingers out and rested them on your clit. Your hips buck once again. "Two." He said. 

For fuck sake!

"Okay, okay, two. Just move, please." 

He laughed, you'd scowl at him if he didn't start rubbing your bundle of nerves. Your head fell back on his shoulder, one hand worked between your legs while the other squeezed your sensitive breasts, tweaking your nipples. You whined moving your hips forward, you didn't even care anymore, you were so desperate to get to where you needed to be. 

Oscar groaned, "Mi amor, despacito, you're so needy." 

"Oscar, fuck, please. I just want you inside me." You cried out. He kissed your back, his hands on your waist as he adjusted you over his full length, he slipped in carefully. Your eyes disappeared, the whites were the only part that showed, your jaw slacked open. "¿Estas bíen?"

You could only manage to nod. He slid down the tub, lying down at an angle so you could be comfortable, you lay back on him and with his help, you raise your hips up and down on his shaft. He was stretching you out in the best way, a delicious sensation coursing through your skin as he penetrated you so deeply, fuck you were so full. 

"My pretty baby. Look at how fucking pretty you are. I'm keeping you pregnant." He cooed mumbling the last part. If he kept making you feel this good, you might just give him what he wants. His mushroom tip poked and prodded at the sweet spot buried inside you. You cry and clench around him, your pussy almost weeping and begging for more. "Coño Bonita." 

Your head lulled back as he whispered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe from time to time. "You feel so good, so soft. fuck." He strained. His hand found its way between your thighs once again, his fingers playing with your equally needy clit. It was becoming too much. "Oh god, baby... O-Oscar!" 

You were there. You were right there. 

"I-I'm- I'm-" 

"I know, it's okay, go ahead." 

As if you needed the permission you didn't know you were asking for. Your body twitched, legs shaking as they closed around his wrist that was still snug between them. You squirmed, your orgasm taking over your body. Electricity piercing your veins. "Keep coming for me, don't worry." 

He was using you to get himself to his peak and it was hot, he wasn't stopping, your body continuously moving up and down. Hugging his thickness for his pleasure. "I'm cumming, in that pretty fucking pussy, hermosa." 

You were long gone, your body limp as your high was coming down. You quietly moaned feeling his hot seed spread inside you, you giggled lazily. "Fuck..." He chuckled. "You okay?" 

"Mhm." You sounded sleepy. "Come on, we'll clean off before you fall asleep in here." He laughed. 

You let him do all the work, washing you off before himself then helping you out of the tub wrapping a towel around you. 

You quickly dried off and headed inside your shared bedroom, going over to your side of the dresser where all your products stood. You did your usual night routine and once you were done you found yourself in one of his old shirts and one of his baggy shorts. He laughed lightly as he entered the room. 

You looked down at yourself, you did look a bit ridiculous. "What?" You pouted. He made his way over to you, his hands cupping your face, your palms cuffing his wrists. "You are so fucking cute and I fucking love you." He smiled pressing a kiss to your lips, you dissolved in his touch, melting into his kiss. He pulled back slightly but you chased him reattaching your lips. 

There was that feeling between your legs again. "Ma-mamita." He chuckled as you smooched him. You whined. He kissed your forehead letting go of your face. His hand hitting your, lately overly ample, ass. You squealed. "Get on the bed." He instructed untucking his towel from his waist. 

"Wha-" 

He spanked you again. 

"I'm trynna show you why we're gonna have four more." 

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated. see you in the next one. peace and love 🤙🏾

Tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb

who might be interested: @blkbutterfly816 @miyahmaraj @librarian1002 @bigenergy777

[darlingdarkly]

New Year, New You Part 3

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

4.7k Words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes

Part 2, 4

The next day is what you can only describe as controlled chaos. The office is a whirlwind of papers, people and pieces of presentation sent to and fro across the building. Maureen in marketing needs approval from Mark in finance who’s busy balancing the budget for this year and the spreadsheets from last year. Sharon has been on the phone for Three. Whole. Hours. trying to make sure the prototypes will be ready before noon tomorrow.

Tom called in sick and Mrs. Magna told Nancy to tell him that if he doesn’t show up today to never show up again. Period. That was ensued by a thirty minute yelling match between Nancy and Tom that ended when you gently took the phone from Nancy’s white-knuckle grip and told Tom if he didn’t come in you’d personally shove your foot up his ass.

Tom was in the office fifteen minutes later, quarantined in the conference room with his laptop, a growing mountain of crumbled Kleenex and very, very, grumpy. The day dragged on and on and while people who had finished with their portion of the project headed home for the day you stayed, even after your piece of the pie was secure, because at the end of it all you knew it fell to Nancy to review and review and review the final product for any mistakes and you weren’t about to let her do it alone.

As you worked, you caught up with each other, not having time to really talk since the white elephant party over a week ago. “So how was break?” You asked as you filed away two early projection models in their appropriate folders. She sat cross legged in front of you, stapling documents together. “It was nice, mom came this year, and I thought it would be a lot more barbaric but it actually was very civil. I'm proud of them for working out their differences. The way it went down last year I was still cleaning fruit cake off my ceiling a month later, remember?”

You giggled together because you did remember. That was Nancy’s Christmas reunion debacle from the previous year. You hadn’t been there but you did drop by to help her clean up and have a little wine. A bottle and a half in you both were too drunk and giggly to climb the ladder and scrap the candied fruit and cake from the ceiling.

“What about you? Did you go see your parents?” You smiled and answered. “Yeah they’re doing good, they said to tell you hello by the way. My brother too.” And the side eye she gave you was hilarious and aggravated all in one. “What? He still asks about you.” She rolled her eyes and restacked the papers in her hands. “Well he can stop.” You laughed as she shook her head. “He’s still got a crush on me after all this time.”

“Yes! He’s obsessed! I don’t know why you won’t go for him, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone anyways.” She scoffed at you. “I am not dating your brother. Not after what he did.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Nance, you can’t still be on that.” She looked offended. “After we both nearly drowned at the lake that summer. You remember, he practically pulled me under!”

You laughed remembering. “He was trying to save you!” She laughed with you and pushed on your arm. “Yeah well he sucked at it. We both nearly died.” You both were in fits of giggles at this point, papers nearly forgotten in the glow of your memories. “Besides, how do you know I’m not seeing anyone?”

Your eyebrows raised at this. “Ohhh, something to confess?” She looked up from her work, eyes sparkling. “You know the guy that moved in across the hall?” You did. You both had run into him one day coming back to her place for a drink after a Saturday outing together. “You mean Mr. Dark Eyes, the one who came over and fixed your window for you?”

She practically beamed. “That’s the one. He asked me out for drinks tomorrow night.” You waggled your eyebrows at her and she laughed and rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.” It was your turn to give her an accusatory look. “It’s absolutely like that Nancy! He’s into you. I can see it! I think you should go for it, I’m glad for you, it’s time you got a little action.”

She picked up the stack she’d finished stapling and set it to the side, beginning another. “You and I both. I mean it’s not like you’ve been seeing anyone either.” You paused, thinking of Johnny. You wouldn’t call it seeing someone, but there was something between the two of you, it was momentary, your lapse in response but enough for her to notice and immediately catch on.

“Oh my god, wait. You have been seeing someone haven’t you?” You immediately refuse. “No.” “Bullshit.” “Seriously! It’s nothing.” And she wouldn’t stop until she’d pried it out of you so you began recounting your encounter at the gym, leaving nothing out.

“You’re fucking with me.” You shake your head. “No, I’m serious. Just like I told you.” She put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “He legit did all that?” You nodded and she smiled. “I think you should go for it.” Your jaw dropped. “You’re serious?” She nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s totally into you. All that weird shit just means he’s obsessed. Is he hot?”

You immediately nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s strong and tan. He’s got this pretty white smile and dark hair. I knew he was a personal trainer the minute I saw him.” She hummed approval. “Definitely go for it.” You laughed nervously. “I don’t know, we'll see where it goes.”

The sun had long descended past the horizon, but you had it done. Two hundred and fifteen pages of statistics and sales projections that concluded the project. You both cleaned up the papers and put everything away. She turned to you when the elevator had stopped at the ground floor and the cold night air chilled you as the doors opened. “Wanna go out for a drink, I know I sure could use one.”

You shook your head. “I’m beat, I’m going home, eating and sliding into bed.” She nodded in understanding. “Don’t forget your homework.” She winked at you mischievously and giggled as you let out a frustrated groan. “I’m thinking about skipping it.” She shook her head. “Better not, with what you’ve told me so far it seems like there’d be consequences.” And she was right, who knew what kind of thing he’d cook up if you slacked out on it. You said your goodbyes and headed home.

You find yourself in front of your door, mentally exhausted. You slide the key in the lock and feel it give as you push the door open and walk into the cool interior of your home. Flipping the lights on you drop your purse and jacket on the couch and head for the kitchen. It’s been a long day and you hadn’t even had a chance to go grocery shopping this week but you’re pretty sure you at least had a couple of eggs left in the fridge.

If all you could manage was a few scrambled eggs before you did your homework and fell into bed then so be it. You’d eat better tomorrow. You open the door on the fridge and are immediately taken aback by what you see. It’s fully stocked. There’s a whole pack of water bottles on the bottom shelf of your fridge. The chiller drawer is packed with spinach, sweet peppers, broccoli and carrots. There’s deli meat and boneless skinless chicken breasts, a few types of cheese and a new gallon of milk. Individual packs of yogurt and gatorades in all different flavors.

You open the door on your freezer to find a few more frozen packs of chicken breasts, pounds of lean hamburger meat and sausage. Rushing to the cabinets you pull them open and find low carb tortilla wraps and bread, granola bars and some kind of chips called “Veggie Straws” that you’ve always seen on the shelf but never tried.

As you turn around you finally notice the bowl of fruit on your counter. How could you have overlooked it walking in? Bananas and apples and oranges, all ripe and fresh. You didn’t do this. Either you were losing your mind and key moments in your life we’re missing like puzzle pieces lost or someone had been in your house.

Your eyes widen, breath hitched. They could still be in the house. You turn around and survey the space around you, the dark comforting tone had a queer eerie feeling setting in around the edges. The corners and shadows leering with the unknown. Nothing looked out of place or was missing, but what kind of a person came into a home to stock the fridge and leave without taking anything?

You checked the doors, the windows, no broken locks or pried open hinges, no immediate signs of forced entry. Your shoulders stiffened when the realization hits you, it takes your overworked mind a moment to remember but there it was. Your gym bag, you were nearly certain you had closed it but it was open when you opened your locker to change. Johnny.

You grabbed your purse and pulled your phone out, flicking through your contacts and hovering over his name. You momentarily waver between calling him or the police. What were you going to say? Yes officer, my home has been broken into. Did they take anything? Well, no. The opposite really. What did they leave? Groceries. Lots of them, stocked my whole kitchen with fresh meats, veggies and fruit. Yeah, we’ll get right on catching the ever elusive grocery fairy, ma’am. Top priority, don't you worry.

You started the call and he answered on the second ring, tone light and cheery with enthusiasm. “Bonnie! How was work?” You skip the pleasantries. “Do you have something to tell me, Johnny?” And you don’t know why you expected him to take the matter seriously.

“Aye lass, I did think about ye all day, sometimes with mah cock in hand, how’d ye know?” His response momentarily scatters your thoughts to the wind but you take hold of them once more and push on. “What? No! Johnny, have you been in my house?” He laughs, actually laughs. “Oh that. Yeah, did you check the fridge?”

Your brow furrowed in frustration, of course he doesn’t see it as an intrusion instead of some kind of regular thing. “Johnny, how did you get into my house?” You sit down in a chair and what he says makes you bolt upright again. “Easy, hen. I just made a key.” You’re pacing now. “You made a key to my house! How?”

And he says it casually like he’s explaining how to tie a shoe or giving someone easy directions. “I went into yer bag, found yer keys, pressed it into a mold and had one made. Simple really.”

“You can’t do that Johnny.” He interrupts. “S’alright Bonnie, I’m yer personal trainer.” There it is again. That phrase, like it’s the simplest thing to understand in the world, normal even. He’d picked you out, told you he was going to train you, you didn’t exactly protest and now anything was fair game, including crossing every single kind of boundary you could have and making copies of the keys to your home so he can come and go as he pleases.

“Besides, yer fridge was empty. What were ye gonna have fer dinner?”

“None of your business. And what if I don’t know how to cook? Did you think about that Johnny?” And this seems to be the first real thing to give him pause. “Yer right, lass. I didn’t even think about that. I’m about five minutes away, I’ll be right over.” Your eyes widen in panic. “No Johnny! Don’t come over!”

“S’alright lass, it’s really no trouble. I’ll be right there.” The last thing you needed was him showing up at the door. “No! Johnny I’m serious, don’t.”

He’s quiet for a moment and it feels long, you almost expect a knock at the door, even though he couldn’t possibly be there that fast, unless of course he was lying about being five minutes away and was actually right outside the whole time, or even in the house still.

“Alright. I won’t come over on one condition.” You grab for it, ready to agree to anything that will keep him from showing up. “Yes, anything.”

“I want ye tae FaceTime me while ye do yer homework.” And you’re almost relieved with the simplicity of it, but there was an underlying unease that you couldn’t shake, what was he up to? You answer slowly when you can’t come up with a good reason to say no. “Ok, I’ll call you back.”

But before you can hang up he interjects. “No. Don’t hang up, talk to me.”

“Talk to you? About what Johnny?” You start to look around the kitchen for what you’re gonna have, if he’s making you talk to him the whole way through it then it’s better to get started now. “For starters, How yer day was.”

It starts slow, your relinquishing of the accounts of the day, but as time went on and you kept talking it all just came to the surface. The stress of the day, the brutal meticulousness of it, and he made it so easy, he was so attentive, listening and responding, asking questions and letting you vent it. He even laughed so hard when you told him about threatening Tom that you couldn’t help but laugh with him, bent over in front of the stove as you let the stress bleed out of you.

It felt good, right even, like something you'd been missing out on, a key component you hadn't realized you’d been without for so long. And you found a peculiar twinge of adoration for him in the bottom of your heart, like tea leaves spelling out your heart's true desires, whether you like what you read in them or not, there they were.

You sat down to eat and he told you about his day as you ate. It was much more appetizing than a plate of scrambled eggs, you had to admit. You nearly choke on a cherry tomato when he tells you he missed you. “It’s only been a day since you last saw me Johnny, you can’t miss me.” And is there longing in his voice, or just your tired mind playing tricks again? “Aye, but I did.”

There’s a momentary pause, a space of uninterrupted silence, pregnant with things unsaid. You finally break it. “Well, I’ve got dishes and then I’ll do my homework.” What he says next makes you smile, and you’re glad he’s not able to see it. “How will I know ye’ll call me back?”

“Don’t be stupid, I’ll call you. If not, you'll be pounding at my door, won’t you?” You can hear the smile in his response. “Better believe it, lass. Call me.” And he hangs up.

You quickly finish up your dishes, change into something comfortable, just a tank top and shorts, and prop your phone up. Pressing the call button on Johnny’s name in the contact list you see the screen go black as you wait for him to pick up. Your image is reflected back at you in a little square in the top right of the screen and you use the time to adjust your hair and pull the hem of your shorts down lower to cover more of your thighs.

His face pops into frame and he’s smiling ear to ear and you ignore the eruption of goosebumps on your arms when you see it. “Hi, lass” You back away from the screen and into the open space you’ve made in your living room to do your exercises. “Hi Johnny.”

“God yer beautiful.” And you feel your cheeks heating under his compliment. “Stop it, Johnny. Let’s crack on.” You see him sit back on his bed as he responds. “Alright lass. Start.” So you do, starting with the sit ups. You don’t have him there to hold your feet so you slide them under the couch to hold you steady as you do the exercise. He talks you through it, counting for you so you can focus on just your movements, keeping track of your pauses in between sets so they’re evenly spaced and consistent.

“Good lass, now yer toe touches.” You rise and face the camera, bending down with legs straight as your fingertips brush your toes. “Good, just like that.” And each line of praise is like a shot of vodka, a shock of ambrosia to your system, intoxicating. You know he’s looking down your shirt with each rep, but it’s a thrill you find exhilarating instead of embarrassing for once. Halfway through he has you turn around so he can make sure you’re not dipping at the knees.

You do the first one and he groans, quiet but you still catch it. You call over your shoulder and ask if he’s ok and he clears his throat, voice full of audible gravel even in his one word response. “Aye.” You finish and all that’s left is your lunges and stretches. You bend your knees and step into the first lunge, one leg at a time til you reach your goal of ten.

You’re finished and you turn to face the camera, you see he’s laid down on the bed, eyes intense and holding yours even from the small screen of the phone across the room. “Stretches now, lass.” He sounds out of breath and you wonder what you’d see if he flipped the view to his back camera.

You sit on the floor, legs V’d and begin to stretch them wider and wider. You curse your decision for shorts and blame it on being tired and not thinking it through. You know the crotch of your shorts is pulling taut against your pussy, barely covering your panties as you stretch further and further. You start to strain, little puffs of breath and groans escaping your lips as you widen your stretch. “Hold it, bonnie.” And you do just as he asks, holding it against the potent pain accumulating in your calves and inner thighs. “Just a little more, doing so good fer me.”

You hold it for another five seconds and he finally lets you release. You’re breathing heavily as you draw your legs back together and if you aren’t mistaken you think you can hear his labored breathing as well. “Johnny.” His voice is thick with strain. “Aye, lass.”

“What are you doing?” His smirk is devastatingly handsome as he speaks. “Nothing yet, lass.” You feel emboldened and press your luck, eyes connected with his as you command him. “Flip your camera Johnny.” His eyes hold yours raptly for a few seconds before he does as you ask and the shot flips to his chest and legs lying on his bed. He’s got a dark blue comforter and you can see in the frame a pull up bar and a few weights on a rack in the corner, just what you’d expect but the first thing to catch your eye is the raging bulge in his gray sweats and your breath hitches as his hand comes into view, wrapping around the base of the stretched fabric and adjusts it to better accommodate his length.

“See what ye do tae me, hen?” You do see, you can’t look away as his hand squeezes himself through the cloth cage. Your mind, overworked and fried is trying to get you to say something, anything, but the only thing that will compute is his name. “Johnny.”

“Get up and sit down on the couch, lass.” His voice holds a tone of gentle authority, you could probably protest but you’re tired and trying to swim against the current of what your body wants is a task you’re not up for at the moment, so you give in and let him command you.

You sit on the couch at first, eyes still glued to where he’s fisting his cock through his clothes. “Sit back, hen and spread your legs.” You do sit back but you don’t spread your legs, at first. “Come on, bonnie. Jus’ like we practiced.” So you do, not as wide as you would when stretching but enough to give him a view and the tingles of anticipation thrumming through you has you on edge, like you’re standing before a cliff and about to jump, there’s no going back from this.

He groans and you watch with keen eyes as he pulls his sweats down until he’s just in his boxers, the same dark blue shade as his bed spread. “Ye wanna see more, lass?” He’s tempting you and it’s working, you do wanna see more but it’ll come at a price. “Yes.” He wraps a fist around his cock and you shift uncomfortably as your panties dampen. “Take yer shorts off.”

You sit up and tug your shorts down your legs, feeling dirty but heightened as you do, like you’re liberating something inside yourself even you don’t quite understand. He hisses air through his teeth as he spots the wet patch quickly growing and soaking the gusset of your panties.

He pulls his boxers down and his cock springs up into view, finally free and it makes you bite your lip. He’s thick and has length to boot, a good seven inches of it guessing by the comparison of his hand up against it.

There’s a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair spreading out from the base and you can’t help but moan as he wraps his hand around it and begins to tug lazily. His voice is husky and deep when he speaks.

“So pretty, hen. Are you that wet all fer me?” And you’re beyond words so you just nod, eyes glued to the way he tugs on himself. He curses under his breath and your pussy aches from the lack of stimulation. You snake a hand down your chest, descending toward the pain, itching to relieve the tension. “That’s it, lass. Let me see ye touch yerself fer me.”

So you do, just overtop of the fabric, a roll of your fingertips overtop your clit, enough to make your head tip back and moan blissfully. “Good girl.” You look back up to see him working his shaft in earnest, firm grip and steady movements. You feel emboldened by his reactions and lean forward again to rid yourself of the cloth barrier. He stops and watches as your pussy comes into view for the first time.

“Steamin’ Jesus. Fucking gorgeous.” He resumes his movements as your fingers settle over top your bare clit and you start to rub tight little circles over it, just how you like. “Show me Bonnie, show me just how you like it.” The sexual tension between the two of you, the stress of the day all come to a head and you reach down to spread your wetness up and around your clit, moaning low and sultry as he watches you play with yourself.

You reach your other hand up and squeeze one of your breasts through your top and look back up into the screen. Watching him pick up the pace, making fast even strokes over the tip of his cock with each movement. The motion of his hands, the way his tip disappears into his fist and reappears with each pass is mesmerizing. You can feel the beginnings of an orgasm building and it just drives you on as you think about coming in front of him for the first time.

Your fingers pick up speed and your moans rise in pitch as he talks you through it. “Mmm such a bonnie little pussy. I wanna see ye come for me lass. Can ye do that fer me? Come nice and hard fer me?” You suck in a deep breath as you work your body into a frenzy, pinching a nipple between your fingers as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

You look up to see him vigorously stroking his cock. His breathing is heavy and loud through the speakers and you wonder if he’ll be loud when he comes. You’re close and even though he’s not even in the same room as you he can tell, spurring you on. “That’s it hen. Just like that. Do it. Cum fer me.”

It’s all it takes to send you spiraling. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you fall over the edge and succumb to the pleasure. You let out a long drawn out moan as you do, body tensing as you pant and writhe on the couch in full view.

You look up when he calls your name, watch as his strokes quicken and shorten and then all at once he’s coming undone, legs tensing and white hot cum shooting from the tip of his hard cock. It arcs through the air before landing in spattered lines across his thighs. The guttural yell that falls from his lips as he does is loud, just as you’d expected and you wish you could feel it, the rumble of his chest when it sounds.

You’re both breathing heavily and coming down when it hits you, the post nut clarity. You just had very raw, hardcore phone sex with a man who made a copy of the keys to your home, came over without you knowing while you were at work and invaded your personal space.

You’re ashamed and a little sickened by what you’ve just done. Quickly closing yourself off from view you snatch your panties and shorts from the ground and redress. “Fuck, lass. That was fucking amazing.” You’re already working on damage control in your mind, blocking out the experience, no matter how much you enjoyed it, it was wrong.

“No Johnny. It wasn’t.” You can see him switch the camera around and he’s way more relaxed now, smile a mile wide on his face. “Aye, it was. Cannae wait tae see ye, tomorrow.”

You don’t even know if you’ll show up now, how could you after that? It was just a mistake you told yourself, a tired slip up, absolutely a one time thing. You close your eyes and when you open them he’s looking at you and you swear you can his adoration for you swimming in them. “Go to sleep, lass. I wanna see ye tomorrow at 4:30.”

You say nothing and hang up. It’s very late before you fall asleep that night, debating whether or not the consequences of not showing up tomorrow are something you can afford to risk. If you don’t show up he could just pop into your house at any time. It’d be better to just show up and act like nothing happened, that was the key, just brush it under the rug and hope he’ll do the same.

You’re nervous about it all day at work, and you know Nancy knows something is wrong but you insist everything’s ok. You’re too ashamed to tell her about any of it and she relents and leaves you alone but she knows you’re lying. When four o’clock hits you’re out the door, won’t be able to stop this frenzied state of mind until you can clear things up with him and make things go back to normal.

The next day when you walk in the door and sign in he meets you at the desk and before you even have a chance to say anything he’s on you, lips crashing into yours in a passionate and very explicit kiss right in the lobby of the building surrounded by patrons and gawking onlookers.

He doesn’t even give you room to breathe let alone get a word in as his body presses up against yours and he grabs ahold of the back of your neck to keep you locked against him. When he pulls away you’re shell shocked and silent. As he pulls you against him and walks you further into the building you know things have taken an irrevocable turn.

[kaspencer]

No pogue on pogue macking, remember?”

JJ rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back into the grass. “We don’t have to tell them.”

She rolled onto her side, eyeing the way JJ held the blunt between his fingers - the way he brought it to his lips and took a deep hit. With the light from the dwindling bonfire reflecting off of him, he was especially pretty. She considered him for a moment.

Sure, she had always thought of JJ as attractive, especially after the growth spurt two years ago, and his most recent haircut. But she’d never really thought of him like that.

Who was she kidding? Of course she had.

Looking back on it, she supposed her attraction had truly started about six months ago after Aaron Bowman took her virginity and the world of sex really opened her eyes to her own wants and needs.

She remembered the exact moment when she came back from Aaron’s house after he tried and failed to pick her up during sex. JJ had been helping John B fix the boat, and she was watching them with a beer in hand, her side too bruised from landing on Aaron’s bedside table to help. JJ picked up a heavy piece of equipment with relative ease, and she was bombarded with the image of him picking her up, like Aaron had been unable to do.

She’d been newly sixteen and incredibly horny after her boyfriend had continuously failed to give her an orgasm. Seeing JJ’s muscles tense and shift sent her mind reeling. She felt so hot she jumped into the water so nobody would notice her flushed cheeks.

She broke up withAaron not long after that, and she went back to pretending she wasn’t attracted to one of her best friends.

But now, here JJ was, offering to get her off.

How did they even get here? The night was going perfectly normally - She managed to get her hands on a few cartons of beer, so she and her friends had gathered at the Chateau to drink themselves silly. She had been enjoying herself; she beat Pope at snap, got a front row seat to John B falling out of a tree, and lost a chugging match to Kie.

But John B was now curled up on the porch snoring like a pig, and Pope had driven himself and Kie home, not willing to stay too late on a school night. It was just her and JJ, lying together on a picnic blanket by the dwindling fire.

They were sharing a joint, giggling about nothing and everything, too comfortable to move inside. Then JJ asked her why she’d broken up with her last boyfriend, Marcus Harris.

Drunk and high out of her mind, she giggled and actually told him the truth. She hadn’t even told Kie the truth, and she told Kie everything.

“He couldn’t get me off,” She admitted, staring up at the moon through the branches above them. “I told him I was sick of having sex with a guy who only lasts thirty seconds.”

JJ laughed aloud. “Did he not get you off once? You were together for a while.”

“Nope,” she shook her head, laughing with him. “None of my boyfriends have ever made me orgasm. I gotta rely on my trusty li’l fingers.”

She wiggled her fingers in his face jokingly, and JJ swatted at her hand. She stole the joint and took a drag for herself.

Suddenly, JJ jerked upright, startling her. “Y’know, I bet I could get you off.”

She blinked up at him before she burst into laughter. ”Fuck off,” she shoved him, laughing as he rolled comically.

But then JJ rolled back, and his eyes were… different. “Seriously.” He watched as she took another hit of the blunt. Her skin erupted into goosebumps at his gaze. “You’re hot, I’m hot, let’s have sex.”

And here we are.

“No pogue on pugue macking, remember?” She pointed out.

“We don’t have to tell them.”

She liked to tell herself it was the booze that made her say what she said next. “I bet you couldn’t even make me cum.”

She blamed the alcohol when JJ pushed himself up and hovered above her. His hands were splayed out on either side of her head, his eyes staring down at her with a competitive haze. “Bet.”

She would place the blame on her lowered inhibitions for what happened next. But the truth was, the second JJ’s lips crashed against hers, she sobered up real quick. When he pushed the skirt of her white beach dress up and slid his fingers up her thigh, She was perfectly aware of what was happening. When her panties were pushed aside and JJ’s fingers were sliding over her bud with a sensuality her boyfriends had never possessed, she had never felt so good.

JJ kissed his way down her jaw, stopping at her earlobe and pulling it between his teeth. Her hands were in his hair, her feet tangled with his. Her skin felt alive, burning with desire as he pushed a finger into her. He kissed down her throat, nipping and sucking and licking marks into her skin, lower and lower until he reached that little spot on her collarbone that made her toes curl.

With an open mouth, she panted into the night air as JJ slid a second finger into her. Then his thumb was rubbing over her clit and she couldn’t help the languid moan that escaped her. JJ chuckled against her collarbone, his voice deeper than usual.

It was all so good. Sheforgot about their firneds, who would no doubt scold them if they found out this was happening - she forgot about John B snoring away on the Chateau porch just metres away. There was nothing but her and JJ and his fingers bringing her to an amazing orgasm.

She clutched at his back, her knees coming up as the feeling in the pit of her stomach grew more intense. She whimpered, getting louder with every pump of his fingers inside of her. JJ hummed encouragingly against her.

“Good girl,” he whispered into her ear, and it was his voice, low and sensual, that brought her over the edge.

“Fuck,” She shook in his hold, her release more intense than anything she’d given herself. “Oh my god.”

But JJ just kept rubbing, thrusting his fingers in and out of her. He laughed breathily into her ear as she let out a squeak.

“No, no, JJ,” she couldn’t take it. It was too much. She was so sensitive, so overwhelmed, and she felt so good. Her legs were shaking. “I can’t - that’s enough.”

And he stopped, lifting his head to look her in the eye, a smirk on his swollen lips. “Told you.”

She laughed weakly and shoved him off of her. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Meeting

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Meeting Word Count: 1380 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement Warnings: none Spoilers: none

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is one of the six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer: your meeting.

Full story | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Spencer Reid was performing some of his physics magic for his colleagues when he first saw you.

He'd just mixed up the some water with an antacid tablet and placed within a film canister. He'd done it a hundred times on his own, but he'd only just joined the BAU two months ago, and JJ and Derek hadn't seen it before so he just had to do it. Quickly placing the lid on, he said, 'You can turn around now.'

'I don't understand why we had to in the first place,' Derek said as he grumpily turned around.

'A magician never tells his secrets,' Spencer said, rubbing his hands gleefully. To him, showing off his intellect never got boring. 

Well, show off wasn't the proper term. He understood that he could be a lot for some people, knowing so much for a man in his early twenties that looked barely old enough to be out of school, let alone with three Bachelors and PHDs under his belt already. Spouting little known facts or remembering minute details about cases that went back thirty to forty years was just his way of expressing himself. It was his way of contributing to the team. And while his team was getting used to his ramblings and intellect, even demonstrated admiration for it, others would call him a freak.

'If you ask me,' JJ said, 'I wouldn't want to know how he does some things.'

'Fair,' Derek replied, all their eyes on the film canister.

Spencer watched it in anticipation, how the bubbles slipped out between the lid and the canister slowly at first, then started bubbling faster and bigger and-

POP!

The canister rocketed up towards the roof, and all three of them watched with wide eyes as it arced over the bullpen and then down to meet the-

'Ow!'

Spencer ducked into his chair as he watched a young lady in a loose button up shirt, dress pants and boots pat her head. He heard JJ and Derek scurry away, but Spencer remained staring at the woman. Who is she? he thought, his eyes scanning over her.

Your (h/c) hair caught the sunlight, giving it a glow that had Spencer mesmerised. Your (s/c) skin shone with it, making your (e/c) eyes stand out most beautifully. And when you stood back up and made eye contact with him, canister in hand, he found himself frozen, unable to avoid the conclusion that he was the culprit.

'What is this, Reid?' Hotch said, walking up to his desk not looking the least bit impressed. 'Actually, don't answer that. Just don't do it again.'

'Sorry,' Spencer murmured out, a guilty smile stretching his lips slightly.

Hotch blew out a sigh. 'Never mind that now. I would like to introduce you to our new team member. Agent (Y/n) (L/n), a transfer from LA.'

Spencer finally realised that you had walked up with Hotch, and now that you were so close (literally standing a desk apart from one another), he was lost for words at how bright your smile was, and how beautiful you looked that way. 

'So you're the one that thought my head was a good landing place for your little... rocket,' you said offering the film canister back, laughter dancing in your words. 

It took Spencer a moment for him to realise you wanted him to take the canister back, so he scrambled to his feet, fingers fumbling for the canister. 'No, I-I was just showing how a-an antacid reacts with water, and how, put into a small, confined place, that can cause a chemical, gas-like reaction and cause it to exploded.'

'And launch it like a rocket?' you asked.

He paused as he watched your smile slip a little. Oh no. He'd done it again - made someone feel dumber than him. And while technically that was true, he never meant to make anyone feel like that. 

'Y-Yeah?' he answered, awkwardness rising up in his throat, freezing his limbs, his brain.

But then suddenly your smile returned, melting his fear and doubt as you said, 'Cool! I've always loved chemistry. I actually did a Bachelor of Science with a major in archaeological science and a minor in chemistry before I started my BA in Criminology.'

'And now you're here,' he said, a soft smile of his own tugging at his lips. 

You nodded, looking around what would now be your new home. 'And now I'm here.'

'Fascinating,' Spencer breathed out. He didn't mean to, but it made you smile more so he didn't mind. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't introduced himself. He struck out his arm, rigid as a board, and offered his hand. 'Sorry, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'Pleasure to meet you, doctor,' you said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. You skin was as soft as it looked, Spencer noted. 'I very much look forward to working with you and the rest of the team as we go forward.'

'We've got a briefing in five minutes, Reid,' Hotch interrupted, moving to step away from the conversation. 'I'll introduce you to the rest of the team then, (L/n). And if I find you firing another film canister through the sky, Reid-'

'Yes, yes, sorry, no more rockets. Airspace Reid is officially grounded,' Spencer quickly replied, not wanting to get lectured like a twelve-year-old like he usually did.

Your tinkling laughter drew his attention back to you, and he was baffled by the wonderment dancing in your eyes as you looked at him. 'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'T-Thanks?' he replied, although he wasn't quite sure if you were making fun of him or not. Most people did if they didn't straight up tell him he was annoying.

Hotch walked away, but you remained for a moment, leaning in close to whisper, 'That's a good thing, by the way.'

'Oh. Right.' 

You flashed him one last smile before following your new unit chief, falling back into easy conversation with him as you gracefully floated through the chaotic goings of the office. Spencer couldn't take his eyes off you as you did, in awe of your grace and poise, and how you didn't even stumble when you spoke with him. You were genuine, upfront and honest. You couldn't be much older than himself, he noted, perhaps even younger. He was used to being the baby of the team, but it looked like that would be changing.

The prospect of being able to connect with someone his own age sent an unfamiliar but not unwelcome flutter through his heart.

'Oh, you've got it bad.'

Spencer spun in his chair to see JJ and Derek standing behind him once more, watching him with knowing grins. 

'What? What have I got?' he asked. 'I'm not sick... I don't think.'

JJ rolled her eyes and giggled as she walked away, Spencer just catching a quiet, 'This'll be fun,' as she did. But Derek walked closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and that knowing grin stretched wider, more feline and cheeky. 

'Don't worry, pretty boy,' he said. 'You'll figure it out soon. You're smart, right?'

'Well, smart isn't really the quite term for someone with an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187-'

'And pep talk is over,' Derek interrupted, abruptly walking away back to his desk and leaving Spencer in a disarray of emotions.

So he looked back to where you had gone, and found you speaking with Penelope, nodding enthusiastically to whatever she was talking to you about. But you weren't just being polite, you appeared genuinely interested in the conversation, even though Spencer noted you barely contributed to it. 

'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

All his life, Spencer had been told he was a genius - gifted, different. It had just become an effortless part of who he is. It was almost expected at this point to see weirded-out or overly-amazed expressions from people he didn't know. So why then, when you said that to him, did he feel happy about it?

He checked his watch. Almost briefing time. He got up from his seat and made his way to the briefing room where only a place beside you was available. Maybe he would find out soon enough.

[explodingsilver]

Book review: Nightbane by Alex Aster

Lightlark…2!

I’ve already made my thoughts on the first book quite clear (read that review first if you haven’t already; I don’t feel like rehashing all the context), and were I a bit more sensible, I would have stayed away from its sequel. I am, however, somewhat of a literary masochist, so of course I borrowed this from Hoopla the day it was released (November 7th, not too long ago). Very pleased that I was able to write this review much faster than the first one, though this review is shorter, at only 2,100 words long. Was the experience worth it? I don’t know, you tell me.

(There are spoilers ahead, on the off chance that you care)

The plot and style

After the events of the first book, Isla is trying to learn her several powers as well as get a hold of this “leading two different realms” thing while trying to move on from getting betrayed by four different people she used to love. At a celebration for a Wildling holiday (in which no Wildlings other than herself are in attendance), Grim magically crashes the party from afar and announces that the Nightshade army will destroy Lightlark in thirty days. The other realms start preparing for the invasion, and Isla tries to recover all her lost memories of being with Grim in hope that they will reveal what his goal is and how to stop him, especially after receiving a prophetic vision of him standing in the ruins of a village he destroyed with his powers.

Put simply, if the plot of the first book is split between “Isla and Celeste search for a MacGuffin” and “Isla and Oro search for a different MacGuffin”, this book is split between “Isla and Oro do basic defense building stuff” and “Isla remembers the time she and Grim searched for a third MacGuffin”. There’s also a subplot about a rebel group trying to capture Isla, but this is inconsequential and could’ve been dropped entirely.

It feels like there was an attempt to address some of the criticism of the first book, but not nearly enough of an attempt. On the one hand, metaphor usage has improved to the point where it actually feels like it was written by a human being and not a neural network (no throbbing and raw glaciers this time around), the book acknowledges that no longer having a power no one else had in the first place is less bad than having a maximum lifespan of 25, and Isla realizes that Grim let her win the duel in the first book and that she did not win against a 500+ year old army general on the strength of her own skill. On the other hand, it does not address questions like “how does Starling society even function if none of them ever live to 26?” or “if Oro always knows when someone is lying, why didn’t he call bullshit the moment Celeste said ‘Hi, my name is Celeste’?”

Speaking of that last thing: I didn’t mention it in my review of the first book because it didn’t really feel relevant to anything, but each ruler has a ‘flair’, a special power that is unique to them. Oro’s is that he can always tell when someone is lying. Grim’s is that he can teleport. This book reveals that Isla’s is that she is immune to curses. Glad to finally have an answer to one of my biggest questions of the first book (checks notes) 75% of the way through the second one, when this explanation should’ve been given the moment we learned the original stated reason does not apply.

Wildling elixir and its (lack of) consequences

Much of this book centers around the presence of the Wildling elixir from the first book, a potion that is super effective at healing wounds. As you might imagine, this kills a lot of the tension. Used in conjunction with Isla’s magical teleportation device, “teleport away, use Wildling elixir, teleport back” becomes an easy way to recover when the characters get their flesh ripped apart. And indeed, they do this all the time! The book tries to nerf this strategy by stating that the elixir is rare due to the flower used to make it being rare, but 1) this is at odds with Isla’s very liberal use of it, and 2) aren’t the Wildlings the “make flowers grow instantly” people? Why can’t they just use those powers on it like they do for every other plant?

There was a bit of potential for an interesting theme with these flowers: Isla eventually learns that while the Wildlings use them to make the healing elixir, the Nightshades use those exact same flowers to make the titular nightbane, which is basically fantasy heroin. I was intrigued by this motif (I like it when things have a dual nature like that), but unfortunately this doesn’t really go anywhere, other than some vague gesturing at “wow, just like Isla”. Speaking of Isla…

Isla

This time around, Isla is clearly traumatized by the events of the last book, trusts very few people, and is aware that she is in over her head with leading two realms full of subjects she barely knows while also being the king’s unofficial consort. Not a bad start for a character arc, but in effect, she has gone from naive and impulsive to naive, impulsive, and guilty about those things while making little effort to amend them. It feels like her attitude towards leadership is basically “I’m allowed to call myself a bad leader but nobody is allowed to agree with me on that.”

Much of Isla’s internal conflict in this book is based around her Nightshade heritage on her father's side. She is convinced that there is an inherently evil part of her because her father was from the Inherently Evil Realm. This may not come as a surprise, but I do not like when stories have such a thing as an Inherently Evil Realm. Not only does Nightshade fill this role, but the book never even gestures at pushing back against Isla’s conviction that her heritage taints her, and in fact ends up affirming it.

This book really told me to my face that Isla is the first person in millennia to have both Wildling and Nightshade powers. I do not buy that even for a moment. Maybe my disbelief is because the series discarded the “only one realm’s power set per person, even if their parents are from different realms” thing in the same book it was introduced, and I would expect there to be Wildling/Nightshade couples way more often than once per few millennia. But no, that highly plausible thing can’t happen because then Isla won’t be the most special person currently alive!

The other characters

Sadly, the rest of the cast did not improve, and in some instances, got worse.

Oro going from "world weary, distant king" to "official love interest" has unfortunately sanded down all his interesting aspects, and everything I liked about his character in the first book now takes a backseat to being overly protective of Isla and making stock Love Interests threats to kill anyone who hurts her. I swear, he turned so generic that some of his lines were indistinguishable from something Grim would say. But hey, if nothing else, he at least didn’t get character assassinated like I was sure he would!

While Grim actually does stuff in this book, he still has no personality traits other than what's included in the Sexy Villain Starter Pack. Like, it actually upsets me that he's such an absolute nothing of a character. Everything about him begins and ends with “what if the villain…was sexy?”, and there are about a morbillion stories out there that provide more interesting answers to this question. You’d think focusing on him this much would be the perfect opportunity to give him any unique traits at all, but Aster certainly did not take that opportunity, nor did she ever answer the question of why he likes Isla, despite the sheer number of pages dedicated to their relationship.

As for everyone else? Azul, our beloved token gay black man who runs his realm like a democracy, still receives woefully little page time. Cleo, the bitchy ruler who hates Isla for no reason, receives even less, but at least we get to hear about her dead son, I guess. Ella, Isla's Starling assistant, is mentioned so rarely I wonder if Aster forgot she exists. There are also several new average citizen characters introduced, but none of them are remotely interesting. They're all defined solely by whether or not they're on Isla's side. It says something when the best new character is Isla's new animal companion (a panther named Lynx, who rules because he does not give a shit about Isla).

The chili pepper emoji, as the TikTokers call it

Because I must do as the book did and address the topic of sex before I get to the final important bits.

This book is much hornier than the first one, but in a way that makes large parts of it feel like one of those dreams where you're trying to have sex with someone but your attempts keep getting interrupted. I regret that I did not count the number of times Isla was about to fuck someone and then got denied for some reason or another.

There are three times she actually succeeds, and luckily these scenes do not read like they were written by Sarah J. Maas, despite her obvious influence on everything else. This doesn't seem like much of a compliment, but this series needs all the W’s it can get. That's not to say everything is fine, though. There's one scene that's obviously using all the "first time" stuff for characterization, and I can't help but feel this would be more effective had they not already slept together a few short chapters beforehand? Like c’mon, all you had to do was switch the order of those two scenes.

The ending

Shortly before the Nightshade army is set to storm the island and destroy it, Isla learns Grim’s (and Cleo’s) real motivation for doing so: there’s a portal on the island leading to another world, one in which the original founders of Lightlark came from before making Lightlark in the image of the world they left. Grim and Cleo want to open that portal and reach the other world, which will just so happen to destroy the island. They’re not actually trying to kill everyone for the evulz. Isla, in her naivety, accidentally opens it for them before they even arrive.

During the final battle, while trying to steal Grim's powers so she can kill him and save Lightlark, Isla finally remembers the last two important memories: 1) she and Grim actually got married right before he memory-wiped her, and 2) what she thought was a prophetic vision of him killing an entire village was actually a memory of her doing so. Convinced that she'll accidentally kill Oro if she stays with him, she agrees to go with Grim, whom she just realized she is still in love with, in exchange for a promise that he'll withdraw the attack.

I cannot remember the last time I had this strong of an "are you fucking kidding me" reaction to the end of a book. But after some thinking, I decided that it actually makes for some great tragedy material. “Traumatized woman with a supportive partner becomes convinced that she’s too horrible to be with him and goes back to her terrible husband” would make for a good story if this was a more grounded book written by anyone else. Alas, this concept just had to be tackled here.

I also naively thought that because the deal was for two books, that means this would be a duology. But it feels like there will be a third book, and I'm hoping there is, not out of any desire for more (unsure how much more I can take), but because it would be straight-up authorial malpractice to end the series on that note.

Conclusion

This honestly wasn’t quite as bad as the first book, but the problems that persisted outweighed the ones that got fixed, and the severe case of Middle Book Syndrome certainly did not help its case. It’s a very small improvement stylistically, but when the nicest things I can say about it are “there were some concepts that could’ve made for an interesting story in the hands of a better author” and “the sex scenes aren’t atrocious” and “the cat is kinda cool”, then I feel justified in calling it terrible overall. It’s a good thing that Lightlark…3! is presumably a long ways away, because I will need all that time to recover from having read this.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

do you know any age gap everlark fics? thank you

Hello Anon!

Here's a list of Age Gap!Everlark Fics that I found in my search. I tried to shoot for notable age gaps rather than like 1-4-year difference:

Blowout-annieoakley1 (ao3) Summary: “You’re fifteen years younger than I am. I’m your boss. I’m technically your father’s boss. There’s a pretty significant power imbalance here, Katniss. How do you think your parents would feel if we were together? What do you think everyone would assume?” Everlark. Modern Day AU. Bullseye-DandelionSunset, Everylark, papofglencoe (ao3) Summary: When Katniss Everdeen finds herself stocking up on Midol and tampons at her local Target, the last person she expects to check her out is Peeta Mellark. An age gap!Everlark love story. Chemistry-annieoakley1 (ao3) Summary: A week away from graduating college, Katniss runs into her former high school teacher and first crush- Mr. Mellark. An Everlark oneshot. Electra-misshoneywell (ao3) Summary: Katniss has always been envious of the close relationship her best friend, Madge, has with her father. But after an intense situation helps bond her with Mr. Mellark, she realizes that it's not a fatherly relationship she wants. Crush-atetheredmind (ao3) Summary: When Katniss meets her friend's older brother Peeta, she is immediately smitten with him. She's only fresh out of high school, he's a college senior, and she's convinced he won't even give her the time of day…until he does. Leather-Jenye (ao3) Summary: His fingers are worked to the bone and the calloused digits tell stories of the countless hours he slaves to help support his family. The purple hues beneath his eyes only seem to enhance their mesmerizing blue shade. His blond curls never look entirely clean and his fair skin wears a pink tint beneath the thin layer of dirt he always accumulates. He had been sixteen when he took this job almost three years ago and now he looks every bit of a man nearing his thirties. Ride Along-thegirlonpeetamellark (ao3) Summary: "We drive along in silence for a while longer, and I realize this night has not gone at all like I had expected. I was ready to be pissed off the entire time and make it perfectly clear how I feel about this punishment. But Officer Mellark is nothing at all like I expected, and this night has been anything but ordinary." Modern Day AU Saint Peeta-thegirlonpeetamellark (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta in college. He wants her. She wants him. So, what’s the problem? The Baker's Son-misshoneywell (ao3) Summary: "He’s a grown man, Katniss. With secrets," he says to the trees. "You’re barely eighteen. Be careful." In-Panem AU. The Boy Next Door-atetheredmind (ao3) Summary: Katniss has a new neighbor. He’s good-looking, sweet. But he’s too young for her. And she is definitely too pregnant for him. The Girl Next Door-thegirlonpeetamellark (ao3) Summary: She turned toward the house when the light went on, and when she spotted him in the window she blew him a kiss. He stood there, frozen, torn between wanting to continue watching her and knowing that this wasn’t right. She was his grieving neighbor’s daughter. She was six years younger than him. Written for the Tumblr 'Prompts in Panem' 7 Day Challenge: Intimate Portraits The Piercing-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: 23 year old Katniss Everdeen is one of the Capitol’s premier marksman trainers for the Peacekeeper Core. She trains the best Peacekeeper recruits in various districts, but she lives permanently in the Capitol. It’s on one of her return home visits one year that she meets the newest Victor of the Hunger Games, Peeta Mellark. He’s a shy, sweet 16 year old who’s innocence reminds her of everything she’s lost over the years working for and living in the Capitol. When he asks her out she says no. Two years later they meet again and Peeta is almost nothing like what she remembered. Working Through It-thegirlonpeetamellark (ao3) Summary: Written for S2SL. "I think it's a good thing you're innocent and inexperienced, trust me. But I have…specific needs and tastes, and I just don't think it would be a good idea for us to get involved." Peeta hires Katniss for some contracting work on his home. Then they realize this is more than just a business relationship. Modern Day AU

Hope these ones are new to you! Happy reading!

Feel free to add any more you guys know of in the replies, tags, or reblogs and I'll add them to the list!

Update (12/19/23)

Every Time I Choose You-endlessnightlock (ao3) Summary: Older Katniss makes a bargain for Younger Peeta to become her husband in this no Hunger Games, in-Panem arranged marriage a/u.

[carpenoctxrn]

Doctor. Doctor. (Spencer Reid x FemReader)

Chapter 6: The DIstraction

Chapter 5 is here

Join my taglist by clicking here so you dont miss my future works.

Warnings: Horny reader, manipulative reader like they actively try to seduce, mentions of fingering reader, mentions of voyeurism, creepy vibe reader like they are obsessed with Spencer Reid.

P.OV: Y/N

Walking to the group outside I didn’t understand how I should behave. These people are profiler’s. The abrupt actions of before could be justified as first time jitters but now, thirty minutes into the party I couldn’t walk away anymore. I had to face my fear, or rather face my crush.

“Here’s a cocktail made for you by a gentleman whose name I learned is Matt Simmons,” I said as I handed Lisa her drink by coming up in front of her on the couch. Across from me sat Phil and Penelope, the couch against the wall had Luke and Lisa, while Spencer sat on the couch opposite of Luke and Lisa.

“Ohh that's a nice sunset colour,” Lisa said excitedly at the orange and yellow hues of the drink.

“Reminds me of the sunsets I saw as a Lonely ranger,” Luke said with a dramatic seldom look on his face as he looked into the distance.

Penelope just stared at him with a Youre fucking crazy Newbie look, whilst Phil and Reid just laughed at his expression. Lisa however was genuinely interested in what more Luke had to say.

Slowly sipping my Cuba Libre I loved the cold drink against my warm flushed cheeks. I listened to the group chatters between the pairs but soon realised it was conversation amongst themselves. I had only the one human that makes me into a stuttering, blabbering, mess to talk to. Taking a bigger sip of my drink I stood up slowly and sat closer to Spencer. This got his attention and he just looked up at me with a smile.

WHY DOES HE LOOK SO CUTE.

“I’m sorry about what I did before,” I apologised as I began seating.

“I have no idea why you’re apologising,” Spencer's words laced with confusion but his eyes held a warmth and concern that made me look deeper into them.

“You know, inside when I abruptly walked away saying I needed water and I most definitely zoned out, and I just didn’t want a rude behaviour like that to go by unapologetically.” I whispered out my words as my eyes left his and focused on my fingers that were playing with the rim of my half full glass.

“Hey I understand,” His comforting words whispered out his lips as his eyes raked my face, hoping to make eye contact. Giving him the opportunity to have my attention my face looked up with a smile.

“Meeting new people at times, especially friends, is a very anxious moment. You act different because you’re feeling different.” He concluded his words with a small smile on his lips.

Biting my lips a wider grin came on my face as I let a small chuckle pass my lips. Breaking eye contact for a moment I looked back at him.

“Thank you.” I simply said with my head sideways a bit and a genuine smile on my face.

I don't know how to explain it but his words had meaning to it that it's hard not to feel its effect on you. Our eyes still held each other's gaze as his face held a small comforting smile.

And now this is the part when he pulls you in for a kiss and says his stupid little girlfriend isn't his love but it's me and he was dating her to get over me.

I couldn’t help the stifled laughter that came out of my mouth. Covering my mouth with my hand I began to profusely apologise.

“I’m sorry I just remembered a memory from long ago,” I said, giggling at my thoughts and now at the memory.

“Is it a special one?” He asked a bit confused and a tad bit angry at me. Which I could understand. I began laughing like an idiot just at random.  

“You tell me,” I said, laughing a bit. Taking in a deep breathe I steadied my laughter and looked back at him.

“I was 14 years old, in 10th grade and my mom was pregnant. Because of her pregnancy she would get these cravings of certain indian food from specific stores. So this particular day she got a severe craving for Chicken Biryani from the Indian store not too far from us. My father, mother, and my cousin sister who was living with us that year, picked me up from school. Now because of homework, obligations in clubs and home made my sleep schedule become really messed up, so this day I remember being awake till 3am and waking up at 6am to catch the 7am bus. Anyways in my sleep deprived state at the restaurant I made the mistake of drinking soda and since I would skip lunch to talk with my friends I was starving. I became so deliriously giddy like I saw this fork with three spikes and I went crazy. I began - I- oh..” I stopped with the story as my stomach began hurting from remembering that fork and the familiar delirious laughing feeling came back.

“Oh my god I can't, I just can’t.” I said covering my mouth as I continued laughing with tears in my eyes.

“I'm sorry. It's just I remembered how much the fork looked like a trident and I was imagining someone replacing the trident with the fork and how ridiculous it would be,” I said sniffling and wiping tears as I felt myself calming down.

“You don’t have to apologise. By any chance were you diagnosed with iron deficiency?” He asked casually.

“The very next day in fact.” I stated, looking at him with amazement but also just to admire him.

He was speaking about how he concluded that, and I smiled and nodded and added comments but none that I could remember. At this moment I was studying him. His eyebrows would furrow as she would make eye contact when he is stating facts from memory. When his eyes evaded mine his eyebrows would become less furrowed but his forehead would be a bit scrunched as he continued citing facts from memory.

His eyes would hold a glee to them as he shared his knowledge as he purposely tried to keep a normal tone to his voice but the pace he talks is giving away his excitement. And when I would say I read that work from that article or met the scientist behind that article his eyes would widen in surprise. His mouth would form a smile and he would ask me if I liked the scientist, the work, and any question he didn't have an answer to.

I truly couldn't look away from him. He was just so perfect in my eyes. My breath mimicked his as my face couldn’t stop the smile, the laughter, the giggle that would come out of it due to his comments, jab, or him apologising for possibly offending me due to his strong words against a person's theory.

“Hey guys, it’s dinner time.” Jennifer came to announce as she held a bottle of water in her hand. 

I still sat on the couch letting the two other couples pass us slowly. Then I stood up and so did Spencer Reid.

“After you,” He said politely with a small smile. 

I knew I should see him as a friend and I shouldn't do anything that would make things weird between us but the emptied glass of Cuba Libre gave me liquor and sugar courage. As I was walking in front of him I made sure to talk a bit fast for enough distance for me to pull my stunt. Fortunately for me he turned back to grab his phone that fell from his pocket so I quickly had the opportunity to “twist” my ankle. Letting out a small “Oh fuck” before I “limped” to a stool close to me. I placed my “right” leg a bit high on the stool making sure to cover it in order to keep the scene as innocent as possible before my whorish display.

“Y/N are you okay?” Spencer asked as he planted his tall body behind me. Both of his hands unconsciously ghosting my hips.

“Yea- I think I just twisted it a bit. Let me check.” My wavering and “oh so in pain” voice said.

He didn’t say anything but as I began slowly removing the slit of my dress I revealed my thighs and my bare legs to hom. I could hear Spencer take a deep breath in and as I grabbed my thighs in an effort to “massage” away the “pain” he let it out at a wavering pace. My body bent forward a bit more to reach my ankle and as I was reaching for my ankles my upper turned back a bit to look at the sunken eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Why don’t you go ahead and sit? I’ll be in shortly.” I said with a small smile on my face. I let my fingers knead at my flesh, to leave small marks of my hand behind. I was shamelessly displaying how easily I can be marked and I knew he was shamefully enjoying it. 

“It’s okay, if something goes wrong it’ll be handy to have a doctor near by.” His joking words left his mouth breathlessly. Clearing his throat he came beside me and squatted in a position to get a closer look of my ankles.

“From here I don’t see any visible bruising or anything serious,” I stated my observation as I allowed him to inspect my legs.

“I agree,” He said as his eyes trailed my legs before making contact with mine, “Why don’t you try walking just to make sure.” He said with a firm close lipped smile.

“Good Idea Doctor Reid.” I teased back with a smile that he so dashingly reciprocated.

As I removed my right leg from the stool I planted weight on it. Looking at him I nodded as if to say it doesn’t hurt. Then I took a step with my left leg and sighed. Looking back at the Spencer who now was standing up, his hands in his pocket his eyes focused on what I am assuming is my leg but it could’ve been my back, my ass, my figure to be honest. Knowing I had his attention made my mind spin with confidence that boosted my ego. I felt like I could control his thoughts, his behaviour towards me.

“It’s not hurting,” I said with a sheepish smile to hide my own maleficent thoughts.

Stepping forward with my right leg with confidence, my eyes clouded with ego embarrassingly didn't see the elevated step in front of me. The front of my half of my feet were on the tile but the other half were in the air, in slow motion I felt myself beginning to fall back. My mouth took in a huge gasp of air to subdue the panic that fueled my widened eyes. My body felt cold in that second as I was falling backwards. But a familiar warmth surrounded me.

Spencer had planted half his body behind me. His left hand held on to my clothed left hip. Whilst, his right hands went around my waist and gripped my thighs. His hands held onto the flesh that was exposed. His hands were warm. They felt calloused but soft at the same time. His hands couldn't go around my thighs completely but they did cover half of it effortlessly making me conclude that this man behind me is feeding into my big hand kink. 

“Are you alright Doctor?” He whispered in my left ear, in a low and comforting voice. He placed his face right on my left shoulders as he crouched to come at level with my ears.

I knew I shouldn’t turn my face, I knew that if I did it could be awkward. But I couldn’t help myself. Slowly I turned myself a bit. My eyes lowered on purpose so I could study his face slowly to savour how handsome he is before I look into those deep coffee hued eyes. Those eyes that I stare into right now held so much care in them but their dilated pupil looked so feral. Like a pool of good sex that will make my hips bruised and my throat raspy from shouting out

“I- um- I think so.” I admitted as I let out a breathless giggle to show my surprise at this turnout and to the thought that was running in mind.

The very thoughts that made his hands on my naked thighs much more prominent. I could mentally picture where each one of his fingers are, how long they are, and how thick they are. 

Imagine his fingers, that are so damn close to my freshly shaven and now wet cunt, beginning to rub me through this dresses thin material. 

Imagine him rubbing my sweet swollen clit with his fingers, allowing the shivers of pleasure derived from that one spot travel up my spine. Making me whine, moan, and arch against his figure.

Imagine one of his long fingers sliding over a little bit more of fabric of the dress and a little bit of the fabric of my slutty panties before pushing in his long finger. Making me feel full.

Imagine, my back arched as his finger is curled and set in a pace to make me cum, the only mission they seem to know. 

Imagine staring into his eyes as his hands crept closer and closer to that one spot except….

I didn't have to imagine it was happening right now. And it wasn't creeping closer, it was slipping away. Clearing his throat Spencer removed his fingers from my thighs and hips.

“Excuse me, I have to go call my girlfriend, she said she will be joining us for dinner so I am just going to notify her.” He spoke without looking at me as he was facing down looking at his phone as he texted and walked away from me at the same time.

Damn. Did I take it too far?

Not knowing how to react to this I decided to just go to dinner. The commotion of utensils and people chatting were my guide to this villa of a house. At the table people sat down respective to the name cards that were placed on the huge oak table. A group of three waitering staff was apparently hired and would serve us our dinner. 

“Y/N over here,” Said the sweet voice of Penelope Garcia.

“Hi again,” I said as I took a sit between Penelope and Luke.

“Sorry I switched out our seats, you can have it back anytime you want though,” she said kindly.

“No it’s okay. It’ll give me a chance to judge this one.” I whispered to Penelope as I eyed Luke’s figure behind me.

“Wait so I’m being scrutinised?” Luke said in disbelief as he had heard what I was saying to Penelope.

“Clearly we need to work on respecting others' privacy.” I said with a fake tone of seriousness. 

“Agreed.” Penelope popped her head in and said.

“Second, that.” Added on Matt.

“Oh stay out of it.” Groaned poor Luke at everyone ganging up on him.

A small fit of laughter spread around the table. As everyone basked at the serenity and a sense of comfort in the air. A feeling that was perfect. A feeling that resembled a calm before the storm. Something deep in me clearly said that this sense of comfort is just a distraction from the true reality.

“Hey, where’s Spence?” Asked Jennifer who was seated next to her husband and Matt’s wife. She spoke as she gestured the two empty seats across from me directly.

“We’re right here,” He said as he walked in with a woman in his arms. 

“Hello Everyone.” A quiet but loud enough voice said.

“Maeve!” Exclaimed Emily, Jennifer, Penelope, and Krystall as they basically jumped out of their chairs to go greet the woman.

And there’s the storm.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY WHORES! I LOVE YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT AND FOR THE REBLOGGING! And yes in this Maeve doesn't die. We are pretending the bullet missed her because she like yanked her head back and was able to get away from the creepy killer. And to clarify this will not be, I repeat will not be a cheating trope, it's more complicated than that.

Next chapter is here

Taglist: @hopelessromantichopefulthinking @lovemesickly @liidiaaag @kodakmack @strangerintheblur @fairydresses @ohnojessica @ohnojessicaa @savi-0r because savi-02 doesnt exist

[darkhangels]

4. fragile dreams

enjoy the silence masterlist

morpheus x f!reader

warnings: swearing 

words: 3834

Trying to process everything that had happened between, rogue nightmares, talking ravens and being held by the God of Dreams you jammed your keys in the door. When you walked into your apartment you heard chatting voices and squinted under your harsh lights, not expecting them to be on. Chucking your shoes off you noticed two pairs of shoes at the door. Lorna's and Veronica’s. 

You stepped into the kitchen and were greeted by the couple sitting at the table. “Hey!” Lorna beamed at you, Veronica waving at you. 

Veronica was an almost complete opposite to Lorna appearance wise. Veronica had rich dark skin and thick long onyx hair that shines under the light. She had a toothy smile and a warm exterior. From the moment you met her you had liked her, loving the way she brought optimism wherever she was, especially to your best friend who had needed her. 

“Hey guys” You welcomed them.

Lorna cocked her head to the side. “You’re early today, did the bus driver speed home or something?” 

Your glance turned to the window and the rich darkness of the night, remembering the man whose presence you had been in only seconds ago. Your forearms still buzzed from his touch and you hated how much you ached for more, you were just touch starved is all. “Bus was late,” you muttered mindlessly.

Lorna's face scrunched in confusion. “Huh?”

You snapped out of your daze and turned back to your friends. “I mean, I left work early, got a different bus”

“Oh” Lorna nodded, still watching you with a slightly concerned look on her face. 

You grabbed a glass of water and perched on the counter before practically sputtering out your water in remembrance. “Oh my god! I totally forgot to tell you guys my mums getting married” You laughed.

The pair's eyes widened. “What?!” Lorna screeched.

Veronica lurched forward in her chair, almost falling to the floor. “You’re kidding? 

You shook your head between giggles. “Nope her and Mark seriously, some point in December, big family wedding” You debriefed the two.

Veronica smacked her forehead with her hand, flying back in her chair. “No way? A family wedding, yeesh, good luck with that” 

Lorna nodded in agreement with her girlfriend “Yeah seriously, good luck” 

Sighing, you set your glass down and crossed your arms “I can’t even remember the last time I went to a wedding” Your head tilted ever so slightly “Well over five years now”

“Yeah it was, you remember Phoebe from school?” Lorna chimed in “She got knocked up by this like thirty year old pilot and her parents are like, super religious so they had to have a white wedding” 

You gasped “Oh my god yeah!, The wedding was super tense” You smiled fondly at the memory of you and Lorna sat at the back of the ceremony silently sniggering.

Veronica's jaw dropped. “No shit, that really happened?”

Lorna turned to her girlfriend “No seriously, it did” 

“I wonder if they’re still together” You pondered. 

“They have like five children now” Lorna laughed. 

“Five?!” You and Veronica screeched at the same time.

You remembered what Phoebe was like at school. She was a self proclaimed slut, genuinely. And that's no hate to the girl, as long as it's happy, safe and consensual, you didn’t give a shit. And yet despite everyone in the school knowing of her reputation, her parents thought she was the perfect virgin child. And now she has five kids. 

And it dawned on you yet again. You weren't a kid anymore. You saw it everyday on Instagram, Facebook or whatever. Old school mates having children, getting married, getting top jobs. It wasn’t the days where you would worry about who was getting with who, or skipping double science in the bathrooms. People were having careers and families, all that adult shit.

You had graduated a long time ago now and what did you have to show for yourself? You worked at a coffee shop, you were single, simply floating through life. Nothing to drive for, nothing to strive for. You just remained stuck, never moving forward.

I mean seriously, what were you going to do? Work at the coffee shop till the end of your days? And you gulped harshly, gripping onto the surface of the counter, your palms dug into the harsh wood.           

“You okay?” Lorna softly asked. 

You looked up to your friend and gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, just makes you think, y'know?” 

Lorna gave you a sympathetic smile. Or was it a pitying smile? You struggled to tell the difference nowadays. You pushed the existential mess down and decided to worry about it later.

“So, you’re coming to the Halloween party on Saturday right?” Veronica asked, swiftly changing the conversation. 

You scoffed and threw your head back. “Hell no”

“What? Why not?” Lorna whined. 

And you didn’t have a solid excuse. “Well because-” You started and desperately racked your brain trying to think of an answer. “I don’t have a costume”

Veronica wagged her finger at you. “Bullshit, you bought that sexy vampire outfit last year but you didn't wear it and now it's hanging in the back of your closet”

Shit. 

“Well uh-” You stuttered. “I’m not gonna know anyone there”

“You’ll know us” Lorna shrugged. “Resistance is futile”

“Ok cool so now that’s sorted we’ll pick you up around 8”

You unwillingly smiled as you looked at your friends' hopeful faces. “Okay”

The two girls screeched as they embraced you in a hug.

You practically skipped into bed, way too excited (admittedly nervous, what if your nightmares came back?). Thankfully sleep came easy as you practically crumbled into the soft embrace of your bed.

-------------------------

When you open your eyes. You were in a vast library, filled with books, books and more books. You gaped in awe. It was an English teacher's wet dream. 

A throat clearing sound drew your attention, you followed the noise to the table in front of you, on top sat Matthew. “Hey kid, you made it!”  

You couldn't help the grin that grew on your face. “Good to see you again Matthew”

He cawed in response and you swung in the spot you were standing on. You awaited to be told what to do but with no avail you cleared your throat. “So, what is the plan exactly?” 

“Research, lots of it” A voice called.

It was the woman from before with the pointed ears, holding a stack of books in her arms before gracefully loading them onto the table. “This library is incredible” You gasped at the woman.

A tight but warm smile grew on her face. “I’m honoured you think so, it holds every book ever to be written” 

Your eyes practically bulged out of your skull. “Ever?” You whispered.

“Ever” She responded smugly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce myself before. I’m Lucienne the royal librarian” 

You greeted her and told her your name, you liked this woman.

“She’s also practically like Morpheus’ right hand man though Dream is too proud to admit it and Lucienne is too kind to say it”

Lucienne's smile evaporated as she glared at the raven. “Thank you for your input Matthew”

Lucienne pulled a chair out from under the table and you copied her actions, settling down into the furnished pine seat. You hastily grabbed one of the thick books the librarian had brought with her and began your quest to find any kind of answer.

You looked at the thick stack and the one in front of you and suddenly felt so small. “I mean, where do I start?” You muttered, feeling so completely out of your depth.

Lucienne looked at you over the top of her glasses. “First skim and scan, anything to do with nightmares or dreams not being influenced by Lord Morpheus, we go from there” 

You let out a sigh of relief, taking in the librarian's advice and your eyes fell to the yellowed pages in front of you.

It felt like an hour had passed when you finally finished that book only to find Lucienne had finished three of them in the time you had read one. With a huff you sat back in your chair and crossed your arms.

“So” Matthew coughed. “Is his excellency joining us?” 

Lucienne didn't look up from the book she was reading at an unnatural pace. “He said he would but you know he likes to keeps his own timings” 

“I’ll say” A gravelly harsh voice called. Your head swivelled to the direction of the noise. It was a pumpkin. A walking, and apparently talking pumpkin, his face was carved with a sly design and he wore blue overalls. 

“Mervyn, meet our guest” Lucienne simply stated, still not looking up from her book.

Mervyn surveyed you with slanted eyes, well, holes? “Ah, you must be our rogue dreamer”

You quickly tried to cover your shock with nervous smile. “The one and only” You chuckled.

“We hope” Matthew cawed.

Mervyn reached for his pocket and pulled a cigarette and lighter out. “I’ll tell ya something, I’ve got a couple of words about our excellency, He is a cruel leader, He has me cleaning up all this rubbish day after day as if he couldn't just flick his wrist and whoosh! It's all fixed”

You turned to Matthew, your forehead creased in confusion. “Mervyns basically the groundskeeper of the dreaming” He explained.

“Ah” you nodded in understanding. “So, can he really do that, just flick his wrist and whoosh” You said mimicking Mervyns earlier words and miming the actions. 

Mervyn took a long drag of his cigarette. “Oh yeah he can, he creates and can uncreate anything in the dreaming. And despite all that he still has me picking up his crap!” He exclaimed.

“That's hardly fair” You frowned. 

“I know, glad some think so” He said, exaggerating the way he said some and directing it at Lucienne.

The librarian turned to Mervyn and sighed. “We all have our jobs in the dreaming Merv, whether we like it or not”

Grumbling and putting his cigarette out Merv turned the way he came in and exited the library. You bit back a laugh. Who knew a pumpkin could be so sour? You looked back at your reading, skimming and scanning as Lucienne instructed, trying to find anything useful. 

Yet your brain couldn't help but focus on some of the things Mervyn had said. Dream really controlled everything in the dreaming. He was an all powerful being and you knew that already but still, you found yourself intimidated and wondered what the hell you were doing? Why had you decided to help? You could be warm and cosy in your bed right now…well technically you still were. But this had to have been a better solution to the nightmares right?

“Don’t worry about what Merv said” Your head snapped up to Matthew “Dream despite his exterior does want to help you, he’s just extremely protective over his realm”

Lucienne looked at the bird before looking at you and nodding in agreement.

Eyes softening you gave both of them a smile and went back to your reading. Before another thought popped into your head. “I mean how should I address him though because, Well I mean he’s not technically my lord is he? Though I suppose when I dream he is, So do I call him dream, Lord Morpheus? My king-?” You spiralled anxiously.

Matthews and Lucienne's' gaze switched to something behind you and you mentally cursed yourself, praying that it was just Mervyn coming back, though you knew it wasn’t.

“Any would suffice” The soft deep voice declared from now beside you as he strolled to the table from which you sat on. 

He looked at you expectantly with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes and you paled, your mouth drying by the second. “Good to know” You squeaked, looking up at him though not quite meeting his eyes in your chair, wishing to have dissolved into the floor as your cheeks flushed an obnoxious scarlet.

Dream turned to his librarian, ripping his eyes away from you “Anything, Lucienne?” 

Lucienne shook her head and bit on her lip deep in thought “No, my lord, whatever this is it's extremely rare”

A short agitated breath left Dream's lips and he turned back to face you. “What about you?” 

It took you a moment to register he was talking to you, before you shook your head and looked down avoiding his gaze. “I thought you said you would help?” He coldly asked.

You drew back from his harsh tone in fear, but didn’t back down. “And I’m trying my hardest,” You replied. 

Dream drew a breath in and simply nodded. You exhaled, thankful, he didn’t argue any further. But the air was thick and tense and though you understood that it wasn’t your fault, you couldn't help but feel guilty. They were all just scared. Scared of losing their homes, their friends and their lives. Because of your nightmares. 

“Perhaps she could use a quick five minute break” Matthew croaked from beside you. 

Dream looked down at you and watched your face, his cold gaze softening by only an inch. “Very well, the dreaming is open to you”

You climbed out of your seat. “Thank you, Dream” Making a point of using his name, something unreadable washed over his face before he nodded curtly, setting his face back to the brooding glare it was seemingly stuck in. 

You sent Matthew a grateful smile and he cawed in response, before you pushed against the great big library doors and into the rest of the dreaming.

No mortal mind could ever think or make up the beauty that was the realm of the dreaming. Simply being there had a lull so comforting and so calming that the sights themselves could well and truly only ever be seen in dreams. 

You found yourself sitting by a flowing sapphire river. Reflections danced under the sun in the gleaming waves of the water. Entranced by the water you finally had a slow and silent moment to think through the events of the last couple of days. You had discovered talking ravens, pointy-eared librarians, walking-talking pumpkin heads, your nightmares possibly causing grave danger to the realm of dreaming and goth lords.

Oh how life can change in the span of 48 hours. 

The skin on the back of your neck prickled ever so slightly and you realized you were not alone. 

“So many places in my realm, that the human brain would not be able to comprehend and you chose to observe the most mortal thing here” The soft voice called.

A long black coat came into your vision and you were surprised when he sat beside you on the grass resting his arms on his knees, looking out at the river before him. You stiffened ever so slightly, as you always did when beside him, the proximity was suffocating in the best possible way but it was also fearsome and overwhelming, still you looked out onto the water. “I’m sorry to have caused any kind of danger in the dreaming” 

Turning your gaze to the man beside you, you chewed the inside of your cheek. “It was never my intentions” 

Dream turned to you and nodded before croaking. “I believe you”

As you peered into one and the others eyes a silent exchange was made and you found yourself unwilling and unwanting to tear your gaze away from him

You looked back into the water in front of you, despite it all a comfortable silence engulfed the two of you until you spoke up again “I’ve always liked being near water, makes me feel less trapped I guess”

Dream said nothing while watching the water slowly lap calmly. You bit your lip before speaking. “Y’know when I was younger, I lived in the middle of nowhere, pretty much, the only thing there was like one shop and a river” You paused before continuing, Dream still silently listening, staring into the blue hues. 

You smiled, reminiscing on your childhood. “And it was great as a kid but when you’re a teenager you become restless, you feel so trapped” You looked down, now your smile becomes ever so slightly melancholy. “And as a teenager I used to sit by the river everyday and just hope or dream,” You smirked looking at the man beside you. He looked back to you with an amused twitch of his lip before you continued “Just dream of anywhere but there, wishing there was more to see and that I would live a fulfilling life, seeing the true wonders of the world”

Dream watched you now listening intently to every word you spoke. “Then you grow up and you have to work and you move away and that burning need doesn't necessarily go away but it does ever so slightly give up” You looked down and frowned whilst pulling at the skin on your fingernails “and then, suddenly you’re sat by a river, wishing and praying you were a kid again, if only for a second just so you could do it all again, differently”

Your lips twitched up and you realized how awfully depressing that sounded, so you put on a fake confident smile. “But whenever I sit by the water I remember there is still hope, I still have some kind of life to lead, it's just finding the courage to live it”

You beamed back to Dream whose eyes were focused solely on yours, you squirmed under his gaze ever so slightly before relaxing and turning back to the water. 

“And do you?” Dream uttered.

His body was completely facing you now, intrigued and curious to learn. “Do I what?” You hoarsely asked, your voice only mere seconds away from becoming a whisper.

“Feel trapped?” 

You took in the features on his face, your breath halting only for a second before you cleared your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Here? No, in the dreaming I feel the most free I have felt my entire life”  You said looking up into the sky, the warmth rays of the sun hitting you.

“And in the waking world?” The deep voice asked, still looking only at you.

You closed your eyes thoughtfully before answering. “Perhaps”

Dream watched your every move finding himself enraptured, before swiftly standing up. “Come” He commanded. “We have work to do” 

You stood up and walked beside him back into the dreaming library.

-----------------------------

When you awoke, you didn't gasp or jolt. You just fluttered your eyelashes open, the most calming wake up you had in a month. And yet you were disappointed when you looked around, now mundane compared to the dreaming room. The last thing you remembered was Lord Morpheus telling you, you had woken up despite your protests, you knew you had to and with a wave of his hand here you were.

Despite your long and hard efforts of research, you still had no answers to what was causing your nightmares, so you supposed you’d be spending yet another night in the dreamings library. Not that you minded of course, in fact quite the opposite you found yourself watching the clock waiting to go home and just waiting to fall asleep.

You spent your nights in the dreaming, ploughing through books beside Lucienne and Matthew, Mervyn checking in every now and then. Your most favourite part however was when you and Dream would be alone, and he’d tour you around his realm. Showing off his finest creations as you stared in awe, wondering how you had got so lucky to marvel at the incredible beings.

And that was where you found yourself now, walking through a field of unique flowers, knowing that Dream would come to find you any second. 

The man baffled you. His actions could be construed as cold and callous, he could be stubborn and dismissive, acting like he didn’t want you around, only to seek your presence when you left the library. It threw you into a whirlwind of emotions, very, confusing emotions.

A familiar chill was sent down your spin.

“Everytime I think I’ve seen your whole realm, a new domain pops into view” You beamed turning around to the figure. “It appears rather endless” You whispered mainly to yourself.

Dream strode closer. “It is not, I can assure you that, if you walk far enough you could reach the borders of my realm”

Your eyes snapped up to his. “But who would want to leave, leave all this beauty”

And something changed within Lord Morpheus. He realized all at once that you were getting comfortable and attached to the dreaming. Perhaps it was his own fault, carelessly showing you around his realm not expecting you to do what humans did, adapt and attach. His gaze reluctantly harshened.

“You will have to leave”

You turned to him with furrowed eyebrows, shocked by the sudden harsh change in his tone. “What are-”

His voice cut you off. “When I have solved and corrected this ordeal, you will go back to the way you dreamt before '' He awaited in response but you were too gobsmacked to form any kind of word before he continued. “You will not sit in my library and you will not talk to Lucienne and Matthew ever again”

You stood in silence, recoiling away from the harsh words as tears viciously pricked at your eyes.

“So do not get too comfortable with my subjects or my domains”

With that he turned away and strode back to the library.

When he was out of sight a sob escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your hardest to comfort yourself as you angrily wiped at the tears coming out of your eyes. 

You knew what he said was true, I mean he had said it before. But you had hoped, foolishly, that he might’ve let you stay. That maybe he had warmed to you, but no. It was all just your mind making assumptions and getting attached. 

You were beyond furious at yourself, why had you let him speak to you like that? Why didn’t you fight back? Because you knew he was right. He just didn’t have to be so fucking mean about it.

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. So you wiped your face, aggressively getting rid of the tears and let out one long shaky breath, before marching back to the library. 

When you had come back Dream was nowhere to be seen, so you simply continued with your research, hoping your mind wouldn’t be too distracted. You put on a fake smile hopefully trying your hardest to convince Matthew and Lucienne that you were okay.

-----------------------

The next night. You didn’t go to the dreaming. Instead you dreamt of A raven, A sacrifice and A death.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x12 New York City Serenade (part 2)

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 831

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28)

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Note: You can thank (or blame) @kmomof4 for this one. She's the one who sent me the prompt!

Mary Margaret slowly swam up from the depths of sleep.  It was when she opened her eyes that the alarm bells started going off in her mind.

She was in her bed in the loft.  What was she doing here?  How did she get here?  The last thing she remembered was being at the town line, the curse about to hit them as Emma and Henry drove away.  

And then she felt it, a very distinct sensation in her abdomen, almost like someone was rolling a ball inside of her.

Mary Margaret looked down and gasped.  Where only moments ago her stomach had been flat, now it resembled a beach ball..

She felt it again, and remembered the feeling from about thirty years before.  This is what it felt like to be pregnant, and not just pregnant, but just-about-to-give birth pregnant.

Her heart started racing.  How could she be pregnant?  How could she be this pregnant?  This wasn’t possible!  This wasn’t…oh gods, she’d had a drink with Emma just the other day, and she hadn’t had any prenatal vitamins or doctors visits.  She didn’t have any baby things!  How could you have a baby without preparing your house?!

This was a dream.  This had to be a dream!  She pinched herself. Hard. And then pinched herself again.  Nothing happened.

Mary Margaret started hyperventilating. “David,” she said her voice little more than a croak. Beside her he mumbled incoherently in his sleep.

What had happened?  Was this Pan’s curse?  Oh gods, was Emma okay?  Henry?  Were they here?

The hyperventilating intensified.  “David!” she said louder.  He stirred but didn’t wake.

This couldn’t be happening!  It couldn’t!  She felt another kick, as though the little being inside of her begged to differ.

“Charming!” She shouted it this time, and he woke with a start, sitting up so fast, his head must have been swimming.  

He looked around, uttering a soft curse in surprise.  “What are we doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Mary Margaret said, hearing the absolute panic in her voice.  “I don’t know.  David, we don’t even have a crib!”

He turned to look at her, eyebrows furrowed, just now becoming aware of both her tone and the very strange thing she’d just said.  Slowly his eyes drifted to her midsection and he cursed again.  “Snow, you’re…”

“I know!” She said,  “David, our family and now this and the town and the curse, and what’s going on?  Oh gods, what’s happening?”

David shook his head as if to clear it, and then gripped her shoulders gently.  “I don’t know, Mary Margaret, but you need to calm down.  You need to breathe.  This can’t be good for the–”

“How can I calm down?” Mary Margaret nearly shouted.  “I don’t know what’s–”

Suddenly his lips were on hers, the rest of her words fading away as he kissed her hard and deep.  Her mind suddenly went blank.  When he kissed her like that, it always made everything fade away.  There was nothing else but him and her and this feeling between them.

After a moment, he pulled back, hands still caressing her shoulders, as he looked into her eyes.  “Better?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and let it out.  “Yes, thank you.”  The panic had receded but the concern about their situation was still there at the forefront.  “David, what’s going on here?  Are we in another curse?”

He looked around their loft, seemingly listening for something–anything–that might give him some idea of what was going on.  “I don’t know,” he said finally, “but we seem to be alone here.  I think whatever this is, Emma and Henry managed to escape.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess.”

David slowly reached down, putting a hand on her distended belly.  The baby within gave another kick, strong enough that David could feel it.  He chuckled.  “I think this little guy just gave me a high five.”

Snow smiled, putting her hand over David’s.  She still had no idea what had happened or what they were facing, but the initial panic over, it started dawning on her.  Her wish from Echo Caves was coming true.  She and David were about to be parents again.

“Are you happy?” she asked.

His smile was brighter than she’d seen it in years.  “Of course I’m happy.  Snow, we get another chance.  We get to be a family!”

“But what about Emma and Henry?”

“We’ll find them,” David said confidently.  “We’ll defeat–whatever this latest crisis is and we’ll get our family back, and we will get our happily ever after.  How could we fail when we’re together?”

Mary Margaret leaned in and kissed him softly, so thankful for this man, she couldn’t even find words.  “David, there’s no one I’d rather have by my side for…whatever it is we’re facing.  I love you.”

“Not nearly as much as I love you,” he replied.

She very seriously doubted that, but rather than argue, she simply leaned in for one more kiss.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[yoificfinder]

I started building this thread two years ago but I always get so busy around his birthday, I could't finish collating everything. This has long been overdue but better late than never.

Happy birthday, JJ! 🤴🍁

Here are some JJ-centered fics to celebrate. Note the pairing for fics with romance for easy reference, otherwise it's JJ-centered.

after the fall by thankyouforexisting / @dragonagelesbian [T, 2K]

JJ isn't the first person to fall apart because of his anxiety.

“I just - I just heard something, and I thought maybe you needed some help?” Yuuri sounds like he’s a bit embarrassed, but he pulls through. “I’ve, uh, I’ve done my share of crying in bathroom stalls before, so don’t worry, I won’t judge.”

He doesn’t say anything, terrified. His knuckles are white against the porcelain. Yuuri can’t see him like this. Yuuri beat him. Yuuri broke a world record.

“If - I mean, if you want me to leave, that’s alright.” God, he’s still going. “But I won’t say anything, I swear. And Victor always makes me carry tissues and disinfectant cause he’s worried Yuri will get a cold, so I’m really good at clean up.”

Good Catholic Boy by Heavenly_Pearl / @kaleidodreams [M, 20K] JJ/Bella

Jean-Jacques Leroy always considered himself a good Catholic boy, but when he and Isabella give into temptation, his life is changed forever.

Irrepressible by tonberry [M, 8K] JJ/Otabek

For as long as he can remember, JJ has wanted to be liked.

(He's not very good at it.)

The First Cut by BoxWineConfessions [E, 27K] JJ/Yuri, Otabek/Bella

People made divorce seem like this long drawn out and ugly process, but it really wasn’t. He bought the town home for Isabella as a gift, and so it was hers. The flat down town would go to him, as it was closer to the rink. They paid off her medical school loans last fall, so that was done too. He had a few cars, which she unanimously agreed were his to keep, so long as she could keep her Corvette. She changed her vanity plate from Dr. Leroy to Dr. Yang. He saw it parked out front of the courthouse.

this is who i am baby, just follow me by kanoitrace [G, 3K] JJ/Bella

Theme of King JJ is his reminder to himself that he can do anything, but it has no meaning if she isn't by his side.

Timezones and Tricky Translations by ilien / @ili-here [T, 6K]

JJ gets a lot of texts from Yuri Plisetsky. He's aware that the ones that aren’t “Fuck you!” are actually meant for Otabek, but he answers them, anyway.

transatlanticism by copperwings [E, 11K] JJ/Yuri

It takes approximately two and a half minutes of video chat for Yuri to realize that JJ in public is completely different from JJ in a more private situation.

JJ in public is brash, loud and infuriating.

JJ in a private setting is still loud, but he’s also a huge blushing idiot who can’t sit still for more than thirty seconds and who stumbles over his words and chuckles nervously. His eyes are often lowered as if he doesn’t know where to look.

It would be annoying if it wasn’t so fucking cute.

-

...or: how Yuri and JJ cope with an ocean between them.

we can't always be trailblazers by @mrscalculation [G, 2K]

JJ never meant for Yuri to genuinely hate him, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the root of the problem until recently.

[windvexer]

Hi, I would say I've been practicing witchcraft for over a few years. Obviously I still don't know much, haven't experienced much, having confusion with spirits at the moment.

What would you say to someone who's afraid of making mistakes and is always caught up in the details of preparing before hand with multiple back up plans and usually ends up severely panicking when confused or when a slight thing goes sideways?

I'm aware it's impossible to avoid making mistakes but dumb anxiety bird brain seems to think that it justifies avoiding it entirely and moving on, or desperately trying every other possible alternative when the real solution could be as simple as opening the window. What say you, Chicken?

I'd say,

what a lovely opportunity to explore this facet of yourself.

Perhaps presumptuous of me but I doubt that this tendency begins and ends for you at witchcraft.

It seems as if your natural inclinations create for you a complex spiderweb of ever-vibrating strands, and when the moment comes you have trouble knowing which line to walk down.

There is nothing wrong with that. Imagine having so many strands in a web! A lovely gift, perhaps. Maybe less so, if it seems that there are too many to navigate.

We all know the first answer is "get therapy," which is a boring answer because it's tantamount to "fix your anxiety," which yes, we all know that would be best. That being said:

Consider working with spirits which have a keen sense for navigation. Animal saints, we might call them, because that sounds cool. No need for two-way communication; veneration and asking for help will do. Helpful figures might include Salmon and Spider.

Reframe

When I was a kid I went to church, and churches are big on how to church, do you know what I mean? What the sermons should be like, what worship should be like, and so on.

Church first taught me about the art of performative spirituality. My first church was a really big one. The worship team had rehearsals with an AV guy. Coordinated choir outfits, a full band on stage. The reverb fades out and the pastor is ready with the first prayer. They practiced all week. It was a religious set - DJing the Holy Word.

Polished, smooth, pretty. And embarrassing when someone got it wrong. I still remember when the guitarist's sheet music was out of order. Thirty seconds of social agony up on stage while the bassist helped him figure out the order of songs. Awkward smiles from the rest of the band. The pastor politely folded his hands. Twenty years later I remember this - he messed up the performance.

At that time, I didn't know there was anything different. I don't mean that I didn't understand that there could be smaller bands, or no band. Or different kinds of sermons, or smaller stages - or no stage!

I mean that I didn't understand that worship could be nonperformative. I didn't know that there was a way to do it that wasn't about what was being presented.

Do you ever feel that watchful eye of judgement on you, anon? Are you ever the guitarist fumbling with sheet music, with three hundred souls politely waiting for you to get on with the show?

Their show, not yours - you are the performer.

Yes, I think many people feel this way when it comes to magic. I think many witches perform spells, and feel judged and watched when they fumble.

When I was still young - but a little older than when the guitarist had his music out of order - I heard some men of the church talking.

"When I grew up, all the churches were really slick. Not a second of time in-between the acts. You could tell they practiced. The first time I went to a worship group and the leader stopped to tune his guitar, I got whiplash."

I asked my dad what that meant. He explained to me that some worship groups are more casual, like a conversation instead of a show.

You'd think that such a little comment so many years ago wouldn't mean much. But now, to me, these words still ring true.

I get caught up in the performance of spell work, sometimes. I'm not alone, after all. I call the spirits. I'm the worship leader, really. I'm the bottleneck, the gatekeeper. The experience moves with me, though me. I've called you all here today -

Called them here for what?

Not for the intent of the spell. The decision that comes before that.

I've called them here for what?

So they can be an audience staring at me on stage? So I can display my practiced performance? So that they will get a show?

Or, have I called them to me to be my fellowship? To participate in a conversation? To whisper loving affirmations to each other as I stop to tune my guitar?

Have I invited them because my performance is worthless without them to observe it, or because my worship is enriched when they participate in it?

Sometimes I get befuddled. I work spells with a lot of content - things need to happen in a certain order. Too many thoughts hit my head at once, and for that I have one cure:

Whiplash.

I stop, and sit, and gather my thoughts. If I'm anxious about the spell, I tell them. If I don't know what to do next, I tell them. If it doesn't feel right, I tell them.

They didn't come because they're my audience. They came because they're my fellowship, my friends. My family.

And whiplash creates beautiful cracks in the performance for their love to seep through.

Reframing spells from performances to communication doesn't cure anxiety. But from time to time, I think it's worth challenging the foundational perspective upon which we have built our craft. Is witchcraft a series of actions, a mechanical toy which will go off the rails if you are not a perfect engineer? Or is it taking time to tune the guitar?

Each of us gets to decide.

[cosaslocasdeunafangirl]

Hi could you do something about desire where the reader stayed a sleep while morpheus was imprisoned then desire invaded the readers dream and they fell in love similar to what happened to unity in the show I’m curious to how life with desire really was while she slept

Desire is not my favorite character of the endless (But well...Let's give him a chance for once.) And first, English is not my first language, I hope you don't mind. And second, I'm a wh*re for fluff/angst.

Words: 753

Warnings: Drama/ Fluffy/angst

Characters: Desire x F!Reader

1.

Dearest desire

I knew you were there, in the shadows, with eyes tawny and sharp as yellow wine, watching me silently, while I washed away the dirty on my favorite dress.

I was twelve years old when the sickness hit me one night… You know how it goes, right?

A lonely little girl, living in a dreaming world she learned to call home.

2.

I was nineteen when you give me my first kiss.

There was no love in your eyes, or warm in your touch,

but I was in heaven anyway.

I still remember the thing you said to me after, when your hand caressed my right cheek and my body felt like Jell-O:

"Dear mine, what a sight for sore eyes."

If I wasn't the foolish woman

That I am… I would have asked you why.

Maybe, you would have answered me then.

3.

I was twenty-one when I missed my real parents.

Sadly, I haven't been able to tell the difference between the fake ones in the dreaming world.

And that night, I begged you to hug me for a little while.

Dearest Desire,

Your bright yellow eyes finally… were kind for once.

And I understood at that moment why you have a sin for a name, when your skin met my skin and ours lips searched for one another.

Love was what we did.

I refuse to believe otherwise.

4.

I was twenty-five when the house that my parents gifted me

felt too damn big for me alone.

I asked you to live with me.

But Desire belongs to no one, I should have known better.

"Don't make that face, butterfly." you pouted before kissing me.

Not even two days later, you accepted my request.

I still don't believe you really did that, not even now.

5.

I had all of you to myself for five more years.

Day and night.

From breakfast to dinner

again,

again,

and again.

But all this time, you,

my dearest desire

stayed the same.

The one getting old was me.

I was a foolish woman, remember?

I Should have dreamed of me being immortal, too.

6.

When I was thirty years old

and the new things were no longer new things

sex became a routine.

The house bored you to death,

and my kisses did too.

That was when you have the idea of having a kid.

So I said, "No more than two."

7.

When I was Forty-seven,

and our daughter, seventeen

you, my dearest Desire

still young and beautiful,

confessed to me for the first time

how much you love, and cherished the things we did

together in all these years.

"Why are you telling me…"

"Shh… It's a secret between you and me, butterfly."

It felt like a farewell.

Hell, It has one, at least for a while.

8.

I was fifty-nine when you came back.

All my angry yells,

throwing out plates and fury, passed too quickly

for my own good.

Perhaps it was because the house felt too empty

without our daughter here.

Perhaps I missed you a ton.

I don't know, dear...

I'm not the same as I was before.

You kissed me then, softly,

and I felt in heaven.

Exactly the same way years ago, when I was nineteen,

and you kissed me for the first time.

"It's not fair" I said looking at you.

"Desire never is, butterfly."

And dammit, I missed that childish nickname.

9.

We made love one last time.

You embraced me like I was your whole world.

I was old and wrinkled, but you didn't seem to care.

My dearest Desire,

people may say it wasn't love,

that It was a funny experiment…me and our daughter.

Doesn't matter.

I will love her for the two of us, if necessary.

"Goodnight." I murmur on your ear at last.

"Night, butterfly." You kiss my front head, and close your eyes.

10.

I'm sixty-five years old when the dream is over.

And you, my dearest Desire,

is not here to take my hand on the awake world.

Strangely enough, I have a real daughter,

and grandsons to love.

But sometimes, when I'm alone

and I hear nothing but silence,

I feel eyes tawny and sharp as yellow wine

on my back…

Longing the same way I do.

However, when I turn around, there's just shadows and walls instead.

"Where I touch, things want and need and love…" Desire said to me a long time ago.

And maybe, them felt the same with my touch too.

[aceofstars16]

The Return

Hey look, it's a new Gravity Falls fic! I wrote this a few days ago and edited it yesterday and today (I want to write other things but...we will see cause my throat is being stupid right now...I don't want to get sick...)

After 30 years, Ford is finally back in his own dimension. But things aren't quite what he expected. Filling in some gaps in ATOTS, mostly the end of the episode, before and after Stan and Ford talk. (Just me getting into Ford's head in that whole scenario)

You can read it on AO3 or below:

              Ford watched as Stan ushered Mabel and Dipper off to bed. His mind was buzzing with all that had happened, and his emotions were a whirling mess as he tried to wrap his head around the events of the day. A day that had started off in another dimension. Fighting Bill. Trying to right the wrong that he’d committed all of those years ago. And Stan had ruined it. Again. It seemed his brother had a pension for that.

“So…” Stan’s voice interrupted his thoughts, resulting in Ford looking at his brother. Something that, after all this time, seemed so foreign to his mind. Even more so considering his brother looked far different than the last time he’d seen him.

The smallest hint of sadness grew in his chest at once again seeing his brother looking so old. At realizing just how much time really had passed. He was so different then Ford remembered, but…at the same time, he was still Stan. With the same mischievous glint in his eyes, the same short fuse, the same stubbornness. And then same recklessness - doing things without thinking. Anger sparked in Ford’s chest at that thought. Stan had been so careless, and put the whole world in danger. However, despite his annoyance at Stan, Ford couldn’t push away the guilt over his first reaction at seeing his brother. Especially when he saw the bruise that was slowly forming on Stan’s cheek.

Ford didn’t want a repeat of the fight in the basement. And he knew if he tried starting a conversation with Stan, he was liable to do just that. So he opted for the only solution he could think of. 

“I’m pretty tired myself.”

The disappointment on Stan’s face pricked at Ford’s heart, even as he tried to ignore it. After all, at the moment, it was the best course of action.

A second later, Stan’s expression hardened.

“Seriously? I haven’t seen you in thirty years! And you just want to push me away again?!?” Tossing his hands in the air, Stan turned on his heels to head back into the house.

It would be best just to let him walk away but… “Stan, wait.”

His brother stopped and looked at him skeptically.

Trying not to think about how horribly things could go, Ford scrambled for a different approach.

“How…how about I see if I can find some clean clothes and then we can…talk?” In all honestly, Ford really did just want to sleep, and have a few hours to himself to calm his whirling emotions. However, he couldn’t entirely push away the notion that he should at least try to talk to Stan. After all, Stan was right about one thing: it had been thirty years since they’d last seen each other. And it would be prudent to figure out what their next step was as well. But to do that in a collected way, Ford knew he needed at least a few minutes to decompress first. If he didn’t, he was liable to snap at his brother again.

Stan let out a huff but after a moment, conceded. “Fine.” The smallest hint of a teasing smile grew on his mouth. “I mean, you do smell pretty bad.”

Ford couldn’t hold back the smallest huff of laughter. However, a movement later, he shook it off when he remembered why he was in the state that he was. “Yes, well…I don’t suppose you still have any of my old clothes around?”

For a moment, a shadow passed over Stan’s face, but it cleared up so quickly that Ford wasn’t quite sure it had been real or not. “Eh, yeah, there might be a box of your stuff somewhere around here.”

Ford met Stan’s eyes. For a moment, there was a connection between them. Like when they were kids. A sense of understanding, care, and concern. But it was gone before Ford could truly get a handle on the emotions and he quickly looked away and started heading inside. “Come along then.”

-----

 They ended up finding some of Ford’s old clothes in the back of Stan’s closet - or really Ford’s, seeing as Stan was sleeping in his old room. Ford would be lying if he said the old clothes didn’t bring back a lot of memories. Studying in college, researching Gravity Falls, running around in the woods chasing one anomaly or another. His old red turtleneck was in the best shape of all of them – aside from one of his old button ups, but that wouldn’t cover his tattoo. And there was no way he was going to let Stan see that. He was also grateful that his old coat was still in decent shape. In some ways, Ford clothes seemed to have aged better than Stan. Though there was a small hole in one of the arms of the turtleneck, and his old boots seemed to be permanently stained with mud, but it was better than the state of the clothes he had been living in for…he couldn’t even remember how long.

Despite saying he only needed new clothes, Ford had found himself insisting on a shower as well. Mostly because he needed more time to get his thoughts together. Though, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also itching get well and truly cleaned up. Sure, he’d had access to a shower in the parallel dimension – Fiddleford had seen to that – but that seemed like ages ago, and any time he encountered Bill, he felt far dirtier than he should.

Once clean, Ford made his way back into the hallway. Despite it being his house, the entire structure felt like a completely different place than he remembered. It no longer felt like home.

“That’s better. You look like a nerd again.”

Ford glanced over to see Stan standing in front of a mirror, a smirk on his face. Walking over, he looked in the mirror. And for the first time since he got back, he really got a look at himself and Stan. Side by side. They still looked the same – aside from differences in their hairstyle and…body shape. However, there was still that one glaring difference that once again reminded Ford of how long it had been since they’d been in the same room together: their age.

“Look at us. When did we become old men?”

Looking at Stan, Ford couldn’t help but be struck by another realization. “You look like Dad.”

“Ugh, uck, don't say that.” Stan made a face, looking at Ford and laughing.

For a moment, the connection that Ford had felt earlier came back, and he found himself laughing with his brother. But as before, it died as quickly as it came. As reality struck him once again. It was time to fill Stan in on the next steps. The ones that Ford had fought with himself over in the shower.

Letting out a sigh, Ford reminded himself of all that had happened. Not only returning – which in and of itself created a mess that was far more dangerous than Stan seemed to realize - but all that Stan had done while he was gone. Taking his name, his house, his life.

“Okay, Stanley, here's the deal. You can stay here for the summer to watch the kids. I'll stay down in the basement and try to contain any remaining damage. But when the summer's over, you give me my house back, you give me my name back, and this Mystery Shack junk is over forever. You got it?”

“You really aren't gonna thank me, are you?”

Anger flared up again in Ford’s chest. Thank Stan? For the mess he made? It took all his control not to snap at his brother again. So much for the time to himself helping him keep his cool. However, he did manage to hold his tongue.

Stan’s questioning look died, replaced by anger of his own. “Fine. On one condition: you stay away from the kids; I don't want them in danger.”

Stepping forward, Stan poked Ford’s chest, resulting in him having to lean back as Stan accused him of being the danger when Stan was the one that had put everyone in danger.

But Stan’s insensitivity wasn’t over as he continued. “Cause as far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I have left.”

After years in the multiverse, Ford was used to keeping his emotions in check, however, he still felt the sting of the comment as it penetrated deep into his heart. Thankfully, he managed to hide the pain, burying it underneath a layer of anger. After all, Stan was the one who had caused this mess, not him. Still, as he heard his brother’s footsteps on the stairs, the smallest hint of sadness wormed its way into Ford’s chest.

For a moment, he was looking at both of them in the mirror again. Twins who hadn’t seen each other in decades. Brothers who had once been best friends. Swallowing hard, Ford shoved the pain down as far as he could. He didn’t have time to dwell on those emotions. He had an interdimensional portal to check on, and make sure no one could ever use again. But despite his resolve, Ford found that he couldn’t make the pain go away completely. Just like he hadn’t been able to dispose of it all those years in the multiverse, when he’d wondered how his brother was doing. And if, by some strange miracle, he’d ever see him again. But those past wonderings were nothing like what had just happened, what was now his reality.

Letting out a sigh, Ford shook his head. He didn’t have time to dwell on his feelings, he needed to focus on his work. At least he had a goal that he could hone in on. Having a purpose had kept him sane for thirty years. It had given him something to focus on instead of the torrent of emotions running around in his mind. Hopefully this new goal would help him with these emotions as well.

One day at a time. That was all he could do. Get through each day until the summer was over and things could go back to normal – though he wasn’t entirety sure what normal was any more. No matter, that was a problem for another time. For now, he would cling to that future, the hope that some semblance of normal would return come the end of summer. It might be an uncertain thing, but right now it was the only one he had the energy to hold on to. So, he got to work.