#space out three hours to do it when you also have other classes and work leave me alone....)

[lilja4ever]

I have to write four essays worth of content in three days,.,,..............

[twst-drabbles]

Jamil 17

Summary: You and Jamil lay in his bed in his dorm room. While you’re very tired, you’re visibly not bothered by the social implications of being in the bed of another. Jamil, on the other hand, is a little too aware.

(I saw the birthday card and went “eh, why not?” and wrote this.)

Was this something common in your world? Where, out of nowhere, people will just casually ask their friends if they can sleep with them in their bed? Because that’s what you did to Jamil. You approached him, luckily out of earshot from anyone important, and asked that very question with zero shame.

“Hey Jamil? Mind if I sleep with you in your bed tonight?”

Jamil will admit, it took him a good five seconds for him to register the words. And, he will also admit that he banged his knee against the table he was cleaning. Hit it so hard actually that he curled up into a ball, and practically retreated into his hoodie because why would you ask that?! In broad daylight?!

But you know what’s the worst part about all this? Jamil actually got excited. Giddy even! When the hot flush flooding through his body finally settled, all that was left was this glowing feeling.

At the time, he thought that his charms have finally got to you. That all his efforts to be in your good graces have begun to bear fruit.

And so he said, “You know what? Yes, let’s do that. Setting aside the way you asked that, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive that.”

Past him’s an idiot. For all those times he thought himself above the hormonal college students, turns out Jamil was no better. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he was humbled.

And so here Jamil lays on his side of the bed, dressed in his best pajamas, surrounded by the best sheets and pillows he uses for special occasions, and you laying on your stomach, reading the next chapter for one of your classes.

You came in with a tired wave, bag at hand, and flopped over in his bed. And you’ve been in that pose since.

“So, this was what you meant.” Jamil said. Now that his judgment is clear again after an hour of doing nothing, he really should’ve known you didn’t mean anything special by what you asked. Shame on him for expecting an extra meaning to them.

“Hmm? Oh, was the way I asked weird?” You glanced towards him. Jamil recognizes that exhausted look weighing in your eyes. Perhaps, through the rose-tinted glasses, Jamil didn’t notice. Once again, shame on him. Jamil should suffocate himself with these pillows. “Sorry about that. I just really want one good night of sleep. Just one.”

The urge to hit himself with the pillows lessened. Jamil moved onto his stomach, and copied your position, propping his chin on the pile. “Is there something wrong with your bed?”

You put your phone down. “Weather’s getting hotter and I still don’t have a working air con. It gets so humid at night that I sweat through the night. Can barely get more than three hours of sleep at a time.”

…of course the headmage would neglect to give you something as simple as a stable heating and cooling. Leave it to him to ignore your problems while he goes off doing whatever else. Probably binge watching an old drama that’s not even any good.

“I can’t imagine it’s been easy to deal with. Though, I have to ask, why my bed? You have others that you’re closer to, don’t you?”

Others such as Ace and Deuce, but Jamil didn’t want to say their names. It’s childish but he doesn’t want to see if your eyes light up at their mere mention.

You stretched your spine and settled down. “Yeah I know other people, but–how do I say this–they’ll make it weird.”

Weird? Like how Jamil preparing everything from the lights, to the blankets and even stuffing his drawer with extra wipes just in case wasn’t weird? What?

“Wait, what you mean by weird?” Now Jamil’s worried. Did something happen for you to say that? Did someone do something to you?

You waved off his concern. “Well, see, originally I was just going to ask Rook since he doesn’t mind sharing spaces with anyone, but he’s also very into cuddling and I’m not in the mood for that.”

“That’s true, he’s very open about that kind of thin–wait you cuddled him before?” Since when?

“Cuddled him plenty of times. Rook gives the best hugs without trying to flirt with me. Anyways, Rook wasn’t an option, and neither are Ace and Deuce since there’s no room to spare. There was Leona but after that whole ordeal with Azul, I really don’t want to go back there. And as for asking Azul himself… I feel like he’d charge me for that. So, here I am.”

Oh. Well, when putting it like that, it does make sense doesn’t it? So long as you don’t figure out exactly what went through his head when you asked. He’ll just keep quiet about that.

Jamil sighed into his pillow. “While I want to ask why you didn’t ask Kalim, but I know him too well. A peaceful rest isn’t something he can give, not with the way he sleeps.”

You patted his shoulder and it took everything in Jamil to not jump out of his skin. “You get it. So, yeah, thanks Jamil, for not saying no. Honestly, I was ready to find an empty classroom and just sleeping in there.”

Jamil narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that. You’ll get in trouble. Just sleep here for the time being. When I have time, I’ll see about pestering Crowley into getting everything in order.”

“You do too much for me, Jamil. Really.”

While things didn’t play out the way he wanted to, the warmth flooding in his chest has not once went away. If anything, from the sight of your smile, it threatened to overflow.

This is nice, that you trust him like this.

“…alright, this is still bothering me. How did you and Rook even start cuddling in the first place?”

And can he add himself onto that list of people you cuddle with?

“Hahaha, yeah that is strange, right? Alright, may as well tell you.”

[wonlovie]

— LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU.

You were tired. Your boss of three years has been giving you a hard time, and school deadlines are creeping up. All you can think of are the things that need to be done. You need to work more hours. You need to make money to afford school. There is no time for rest because you could be doing something.

or, you're burnt out and all jay wants to do is take care of you.

— starring. boyfriend!jay x burnt-out!reader

— tags. established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, reader has a million things on their plate and doesn't know how to deal with it, depiction of a mild panic attack [crying, difficulty breathing]

— word count. 1.9k

— notes. i'm sorry that this isn't the heeseung fic but today was a rough day and this is pretty much just a vent/projection fic // this is also completely unedited but its currently 12:36am

Eye bags tugged at your skin like weights, urging you to close your eyes for even a moment. Your room was still, the darkness of the night overtaking the space. If your computer monitor didn’t display the time, 11:29 PM, you would have no idea how long you’d been sitting there. The curtains that adorned your window were drawn, the only light source being the small desk lamp Jay had given you for your birthday and your computer’s screen.

Your eyes burned as you typed, a lifeless gaze following the words on the document. Your hands felt ice cold, hours of typing causing your circulation to falter. The stiffness of your fingers made it hard to type, but you pushed on. After all, you couldn’t afford to stop. There was no time.

You were working on an essay that was due the next day. You had foolishly put it off for too long, instead working long hours to make up for the shifts you were missing to attend classes. You’d convinced yourself that you could finish it, that there was enough time, but suddenly there wasn’t.

The document page wasn’t even half full, despite you having been working at it for a few hours now. All you had typed was an admittedly messy intro paragraph and half of the first body paragraph. The cursor blinked, mocking you for your lack of progress. The blank space on the page upset you, angry tears filling your eyes as you clenched your jaw. 

Before you could begin typing again, your phone buzzed. A part of you hoped that it was Jay. You weren’t sure if you could handle it being anyone else at this hour. But when you picked it up, to your dismay, it wasn’t Jay. Instead, it was your boss.

“I need you to work tomorrow. Lia called in sick.”

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and exhaustion as you simply typed an okay. You had class tomorrow morning, something that your boss was aware of. You made a note to ask a classmate for the notes.

Looking back at the half-empty document, you felt your chest tighten. Your throat felt uncomfortably dry as you swallowed harshly. Your fingers shook uncontrollably as you rested them on the keyboard in a futile attempt to start again. You had typed two words when someone knocked on your door, making you jump in surprise.

Frowning, you glanced at the time again. 11:42 PM. Before you could even wonder who it was, you heard the front door open. Your shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as you presumed it was Jay. After all, he was the only other one who had a key to your apartment.

You listened as he made his way through your house and toward your bedroom door, the sound of him kicking off his shoes and shucking off his jacket unmistakable. The tight feeling in your chest grew, rearing its ugly head at you as it screamed in your ears with a silent cry. The second your bedroom doorknob started turning, you felt like you had been punched in the throat.

Jay stepped into the room with a sleepy smile, his unstyled silver hair falling into his eyes. By his side, he had a convenience store bag filled with what you assumed were snacks. “Hey,” he whispered, not wanting to be too loud so late at night. “You told me you were working on an essay, so I came with snacks!” He grinned at you, holding up the bag proudly.

“I brought your favourite; those chips from when we went to the arcade. You know, it was stupidly hard to find them, and I had to go to like two different stores, but—” Jay stopped in his tracks, his face falling when he looked up from the bag and at you. “Are you crying?”

You blinked dumbly, quickly wiping at your cheeks. The sleeve of your sweater grew wet, surprising you. “I guess I am,” you murmured, voice wet and quivering. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t know why I’m crying,” your voice cracked, and you choked out a sob that you didn’t know was holed up in your throat.

Jay was quick to drop the bag of snacks and rush over to where you sat, pulling you to your feet and into his arms. While his warmth and comforting touch were usually enough to comfort you, you couldn’t breathe as you felt sob after sob rack your body. He rubbed up and down the small of your back, stepping backwards until the backs of his legs hit your bed.

Slowly, he moved you into a sitting position, never once letting go of you as he sat next to you on the bed. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked in a small voice, his heart breaking at the sight of you like this. He didn’t ask again when you didn’t respond, rocking you back and forth against his chest. He pressed a tender kiss against your forehead when another particularly harsh cry escaped your lips.

You fisted the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it in the process. In your haze, everything felt fuzzy. You couldn’t focus on anything except for the tightness in your chest and the pounding of your heart. You briefly thought back to the essay that sat unfinished at your desk and the text from your employer, the thoughts only making you cry harder.

Loud, heartbreaking weeps left your trembling body, and each second that passed felt worse than the last. Jay’s brows were stuck in a furrowed position, and the corners of his lips tugged into a deep frown. He hated how helpless he felt, having nothing to do except hold you. 

He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that together, with you in his arms, crying your heart out. It might’ve been ten minutes, it might have been an hour or two. It felt like your cries were neverending, but when they did start to slow, his heart was in his stomach. He hated seeing you like this. He knew how often you’d hide your true feelings behind a smile, always assuring him that you were okay, but he knew you better than that.

Once the sobs quieted down and you were left with only shaking breaths and wet eyes, Jay pulled away to see your face. His heart ached for you at the sight of your pain-stricken features and tear-stained cheeks. He pulled his sleeve over his hand to wipe away your tears, although new ones were quick to trail down your irritated and raw skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again, just as gently. “Is it the essay?”

You shrugged, not trusting your voice as you avoided his eyes. He smoothed down your hair, cupping your face in his large hands in a silent plea for you to look at him. “Did something happen at work?” The pained look in your eyes let him know that he was getting closer, and his frown deepened. “Did your boss say something again?”

“Kind of,” you finally spoke, your voice just barely above a whisper. “He asked me to work tomorrow.”

Jay’s eyebrows knitted together. “You have class tomorrow.”

“I’ll have to skip,” you relented, gnawing at your bottom lip in anxiety. You started thinking of how much information you’d be missing, and you know that some of your professors like giving out surprise quizzes, and you could not get a zero for not attending. If you got a zero, if you failed, then what was the point of working so hard?

“Baby,” Jay mumbled, “Why don’t you tell your boss you can’t work?”

You shook your head, the thought of speaking up causing your throat to close. “I… I can’t do that, Jong. My boss always tells us that saying no to him is a sign of our disloyalty, and I’ve seen him fire someone who said no too many times. I can’t… I can’t get fired, I can’t lose this job. I need the money, Jay, I can’t…” You cut yourself off, your voice breaking.

Jay took your hands in his, rubbing the back of them gently with his thumbs. “There are other jobs, love. Other jobs with more understanding employers.”

Once again, you shook your head, fresh tears falling from your red eyes. “No, no, you don’t understand. This job pays really well, and the fact that I got hired in the first place was a fluke. Don’t you remember how hard it was for me to find a job before? How many… how many rejected interviews I’d gotten? I can’t quit.”

“But,” Jay interjected. “You’ve always told me how much stress you have working there. Your boss is unfair to you. He doesn’t give you breaks, and he asks you to come in too much. You’re a student too, love. I barely see you because you’re always either in class or at work. That’s not healthy.”

You looked into his eyes for the first time since he arrived in your room, the sight of his own watering eyes breaking your heart. “I can’t not work, Jong. That’s not an option. I need the money to pay for everything. I need money to pay for my tuition and for my books. And this apartment wasn’t given to me for free—I can’t just stop working, even if I wanted to.”

Jay pursed his lips. “Can I be honest with you?”

You nodded, a subtle jerk of your head that he barely caught.

“You have so much more support than you realize,” he rasped, holding onto your hands tighter as if it’d convey his message better. “Right now, if you were to stop working, you’d still be able to pay for the rest of the school year. You worked so tirelessly through the summer, and I know you have a lot saved up. You could take time off. Your parents could help with paying for school or rent—hell, I could help if you let me.

I know you’re scared and anxious, but please believe me. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you took a break. You need it, baby. Your life isn’t going to fall apart if you don’t have a job for a few months.” He let go of one of your hands to cup your cheek. “I love you so much. Seeing you like this is so painful, and all I want is for you to realize that it’s okay to just… do nothing. It is okay to not work. It’s okay to breathe.”

Your lips trembled, another sob threatening to rip out from your throat at his kind words, words that you didn’t know you needed to hear. 

“I know I’m supported,” you whispered, holding the hand that cupped your face. “I know that, which is why I’m so frustrated with myself. I… I feel like if I’m not doing everything by myself and if I’m not working, then all I am is a failure.” You spat out the last few words, new tears filling your waterline. 

Jay shook his head, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. “This world is harsh, and it pushes people to work beyond their limits. I wish things were different, but I can’t change how society views things.” He nudged his nose against yours, looking into your eyes with a look of what you could only describe as love. He offered you a gentle smile. “But what I can do is help you realize that. I just need you to let me in, yeah? You don’t need to be this stressed alone. I don’t want you to be alone.” He brushed away the wetness that remained on your cheeks before pressing a soft kiss against both cheeks, your nose, and finally, your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured into your skin. “I love you, and you are worth so much more than you realize.”

[caustinen]

thinking about teacher!gale single dad!john… john’s son (maybe like 8? 9? 10yo?) is acting up and he has to go meet his teacher and he comes in a little late straight from work (he’s a lawyer and works insane hours which is part of the problem) and holy shit he’s blown away when he sees the new homeroom teacher who’s the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen and he flirts the whole time despite being able to tell gale is a bit annoyed/confused by him but john can tell he warms up to him a bit during their meeting, and because he wants to see the pretty blonde again asap he volunteers as a supervisor for a night school next week.

once the kids are asleep he keeps flirting until gale relaxes completely in his presence but when he asks for his number gale is hesitant because he’s not sure if it’s good idea to date his student’s parents but he promises to think about it.

john is also serious about being better at spending time with his son no matter how busy work gets but it doesn’t hurt he can bump into gale every now and then too when he picks him up at school. maybe there’s some kind of an incident or smth i haven’t figured it out completely yet but eventually gale agrees to give him his number.

on their first date john learns that gale wanted to be a teacher because he had an unsafe chilhood home and school was his safe space and he wants to provide stability and tools for a good life for kids of all backgrounds. their romantic (and sexual) tension is insane now that gale can be a bit more relaxed when they are outside of the school context but maybe right when john is about to ask him home his son calls that he’s had a nightmare and wants to come home from the sleepover he’s at, and he’s apologizing so much for having to cut the night short but gale’s just like bruh you being a good dad is literally the hottest thing i can think of if anything this is improving your chances.

anywayy i still don’t know completely what to do this other than sweet falling in love and the three of them becoming a family, i’m not very good with angst but i’d maybe like to try writing something challenging and bring some obstacles to the road too… some other parent blackmailing gale because he thinks john’s son is getting special treatement in class or smth and him freaking out because he doesn’t wanna mess up this kid’s life idk i just hc it would probably be a bad trigger for him because of his own dad :(

[haee-elia]

spence-tober: day 17 - professor

pairing: professor!spencer reid x fem!reader (you are also a professor!)

summary: in which your class (and your boyfriend) surprises you

word count: 1519

warnings: proposals, fluffy,

spence-tober masterlist

“Hello everyone.” You greet as students start walking through the doors to the classroom. You glance up from adjusting your papers at the podium up front at the stage of the classroom.

It was just a regular Thursday of one of the classes you teach at the university, Introduction to Thermal Dynamics. You had been teaching in the Engineering Department for several years now and this was just one of the classes you taught each semester. Since the university you taught at was quite well known for the Engineering Department, the class was always one that students signed up for.

However, the university was fairly good at their main athletics, so it was rather unusual for so many students to come on time on a Thursday when there was an away game the next day. Many students chose to ditch Thursday class and instead drive where the game was gonna be and stay for the early game in the morning. 

You’re sure you have a slightly puzzled look on your face as you assess the amount of students that have already shown up, but you shrug it off. 

There was a test next week anyway, perhaps they wanted to participate in the study guide you had ready to revise for them today. You move on and go sit at your desk, sending some emails until the time on your computer finally reads 3:00 and class is officially started.

Now that all the students had settled into their seats, having their choice of computer, iPad, notebook or simply nothing at all on their desks, the final student count for the day was on the higher end, but once again, you brushed it off and continued with your class day.

After all, you didn’t want to discourage students coming to class.

You walk up to the front podium, facing the students, “Alright everyone. Today we’ll be revising for the upcoming test next week. I’ve printed out paper versions of the study guide I’ll be going over today or you can download it off the class page on blackboard under the work for this week.”

You hold up the small pile of papers in your hand and start passing them down the columns of students sat there in their desks, giving them the option to take one or not. Afterwards, you return to the front of the classroom and bring out your own filled out version of the study guide you just dealt. 

Standing at the podium with a overhead camera hanging above the study guide, you turn it on and turn your head to the whiteboard to make sure the projection is working. The classroom you’ve been given this semester to teach out of is quite big, the capacity for students is high and there is plenty of whiteboard space.

You’ve made it through half of the study guide, making sure to revise every part that will be on the test you’ve already created, when there’s a knock on the door. One of your students who volunteered to solve an equation on the whiteboard pauses at the noise, as you all do in the room. 

You always leave the door unlocked and you often don’t have many visitors during class hours, but when you glance over to the door, you can see cleary through the small window who the visitor is.

It’s your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. 

You and Spencer had met when you first came to teach at the university. Although you were in completely different departments, you in engineering and him in human and social sciences, you had come to know each other quite well as some of the younger teaching staff.

Spencer was the one who had asked you out first, however you were not too far behind in that endeavor, and since then, you had dated for about three years and been living together for almost two now. 

“Come in.” You say with a hint of uncertainty, also gesturing with your hands the instruction of what you spoke. 

Spencer sheepishly opens the door and lets himself in, “Sorry to bother you in the middle of your class.” He apologizes.

The student body knew of the relationship between Spencer and yourself so you didn’t bother try keeping it a secret. After all, it wasn’t like you were actively making out every second of the day. You both are professionals and beyond sharing lunch with each other and chaste pecks on the lips every now and then, the students didn’t have much insight in your romantic life. Much to their displeasure, that is.

You shake your head, brushing it off, “It’s fine, we’re just revising. Did you need something?”

Gesturing for your student to keep working at the equation on the whiteboard, you step off to the side a little and meet Spencer halfway for a bit more privacy.

“I, uh,” He starts to speak, reddening cheeks under the gaze of the students definitely not paying attention to the board currently.

Spencer clears his throat, slightly embarrassed, “I forgot the Amazon password.” He whispers.

You chuckle under your breath, “What?” A smile breaks out on your face, you just can’t help it.

“You know that I always show some of the Matrix in class when we’re going over philosophical moments in modern media.” He reminds you.

“And you’ve forgot the Amazon password?” You question with a goofy expression.

He nods and rubs the back of his head, “I know we’ve bought it, but I can’t get the password and I want everything ready before my class later.”

“It isn’t saved in your passwords on your computer?” You inquire.

Spencer shakes his head, “I can’t find it anywhere and I can’t seem to remember it.” He’s a bit bashful now, shuffling his hands behind his back and his feet against the tile floor. 

You muse to yourself that this is a very Spencer Reid thing to happen. Your boyfriend isn’t the best with technology and you’re often tasked to handle these things anyway. Hell, when you first met him, he still had a flip phone! 

It wasn’t like you could bash Spencer for being technologically challenged when you were often too dependent on your phone. Having troubles with the concept of time and getting to places without the aid of GPS. Spencer was definitely more equipped in those areas.

You place your hand on Spencer’s arm in a comforting gesture, “Let me get a piece of paper and write it down.” You say.

You go to turn around to do just that, walking towards your desk to retrieve a sticky note and a pen when you happen to take a glance at the white board again and stop in your tracks.

Not only is the student that you left up there to work on the equation beforehand still standing at the head of the room, two other students have joined her with expo markers in hand. 

The equation is missing from the whiteboard and the projection system is turned off and in big black blocky letters the words “WILL YOU MARRY ME” is displayed across the large whiteboards.

The rest of the students in the classroom either have their phones out or are staring directly at you, standing shocked and surprised with your wide eyes and open mouth.

Spencer clears his throat behind you and you turn back around to him.

He’s on one knee now and a ring box outstretched in his hand towards you. There’s a large, but nervous, grin on his face and his eyes gleam with excitement and happiness.

“Would you do me the honor and spend the rest of my life with me?” He asks. “Will you marry me?” 

The ring is just like you could ever have imagined. You and Spencer had talked about the future before and what that would look like, marriage and children and all that. Spencer had offhandedly asked your opinions on rings once and you made it no trouble to get your ring size with laying out your jewelry on your vanity in your shared bedroom.

You feel yourself nodding vehemently before you can even find the words to speak. Tears have been brought forth in your eyes and you know Spencer will later tease you about it.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” You finally manage to say. Spencer seems to relax and his shoulders no longer seem stiff as he slips the ring on your finger. 

The rest of the class cheers as Spencer twirls you around, lifting you up.

When you come back down to Earth and pull back a bit from your embrace, the room has quietened down again though the air is still buzzing with excitement. 

A student, the same one as before at the whiteboard, comes up to you offering you congratulations. No doubt did Spencer put your class up to this, asking for their help in his proposal and it was really no wonder why the class was so filled out today either now.

“So,” She starts to say, “Does this mean you’ll both be Professor Reid?” She says with a pleased smile.

a/n: i like this one! i really didn't want to write a professor x student because that kinda just gives me really bad vibes... i feel like i am getting worse and worse at these summaries though

[reina-tries-2-write]

The Space Between Sounds

Chapter 1: Unfamiliar Territory

SYNOPSIS: What will your first day at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech entail?

WC: 3.2K

AUTHOR'S NOTES: The story switches between your POV and Toge's between the asterisk cuts. Any descriptions of sign language will be referencing ASL not JSL since I don’t know it. This is my first serious work so I hope you enjoy!

masterlist - next

You step off the train onto the platform in Tokyo, stomach churning with anxiety. The station is noisy, louder than you expected and the ambient volume is a lot to take in. The buzzing and humming is unlike anything you’ve ever heard before and it feels like electricity is running through you.

Scanning the crowd in the station, your eyes finally land on the person you’re looking for. He’s not hard to spot since he’s easily over six feet tall and wearing a blindfold which only makes him stand out further. You walk over and greet him which he eagerly reciprocates before leading you out of the station.

The two of you don’t talk as you make your way through the massive city that you are spending most of your time gawking at. You lived in a remote village and had never seen a building taller than four stories so the city was quite the shock for you. It was beautiful and a lot more colorful and busy than you expected which was honestly a little overwhelming but enjoyable nonetheless. The towering skyscrapers reflected the mid morning sun in a dazzling display that sparkled in your vision as you took in the colorful lights and people of the city.

Today is your move in day at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech and you are incredibly anxious about it. Sure, anyone would be nervous about moving five hours from home for university but you have an extra reason to be nervous.

Aside from missing the first month of classes, the thing about you is…

You’re deaf.

You can read lips and speak fine, or at least well enough to be understood, but you still battle a communication barrier. It can be quite frustrating at times as well. When people find out you’re deaf but can read lips, they often exaggerate their mouth movements as they speak which only makes it harder for you to understand them.

You find yourself nodding and smiling along with strangers quite often, having absolutely no idea what they are saying to you.

Back home, your friends Mari and Kai were the only ones who weren’t weird about you being deaf and took the time to learn sign language with you. You had a blast teaching them in middle school and the three of you were super close throughout the rest of middle and high school.

The three of you went off to separate colleges but promised to do your best to keep in touch despite being so far apart. You were definitely going to stay in contact with then since they’re your best friends, number one supporters, and honestly, the best people in your life. They’re more like family really.

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts of your friends and back into your anxious reality as the blindfolded man, Gojo, lead you up a dark cobbled path onto campus.

As you walked closer and closer, the buzzing, humming, and crackling in your ears got louder. Despite being deaf, you can hear cursed energy, and is louder the stronger it is. That being said, Gojo is pretty damn loud and so is the campus.

Regardless of the volume, it is really nice, set in the woods just inside the city and has beautiful traditional architecture. There are several different types of housing buildings on the campus along with student housing of course.

There is also a large training area with multiple accompanying buildings, and more official looking buildings where classes and other meetings are probably held, in the middle of campus.

There are some nice secluded corners of the campus too with ponds and shrines and small places to spend time in nature.

Gojo leads you to a dorm building and you take a deep breath of the crisp September air before walking up the three wooden steps. After the front door closes behind you, you sigh lightly in relief at the welcome, slightly quieter atmosphere.

Your room is nothing crazy fancy but it’s still very nice. Your belongings have already been delivered and are neatly sitting on the wooden floor in the middle of the room.

All of the furniture was wood but was in very good condition, clearly new and well taken care of. The bathroom was pretty plain, white tile and vanity, a shower with a small bench inside, and a small cabinet under the sink. You take in the warm wood of the room, breathing in the smell of varnish and a fresh citrus-y cleaner. The only noise in the room was the loud crackling and buzzing of Gojo’s cursed energy blaring in your ears.

After looking around, you turn to him to await further instruction, having no idea what you’ll be doing today.

“Alright! Now I’ll give you a quick tour of campus and then you can meet the other first years.” He tells you.

You nod your head nervously and follow him out of the dorm. Despite the fact you are able to speak, you prefer not to. Mari and Kai had described your voice to you on one occasion and, through no fault of their own, made you extremely self conscious about it. You knew you didn’t sound normal and had what is called a ‘deaf accent’ which only made you even more different. Needless to say, you never speak unless you absolutely have to.

You hated the way people reacted when you did speak— the way their eyebrows would knit together, and their smiles would falter, told you everything you needed to know. It was better not to try. Better to just be silent. Stay in the background.

Gojo takes you around campus and explains some day to day activities, giving you a mini version of the orientation that you obviously missed. Walking by the training arena, you spot four people at work. Well, three people and a panda to your utter surprise.

Noticing your intrigue, Gojo explains that they are the other first years and that you’ll get to meet them soon. You watch a guy with platinum blond hair and the panda goofing off which makes the girl cross her arms and shake her head as if to fake disdain for their antics while the other guy laughs along.

They all clearly knew each other pretty well at this point and that only made you feel even more excluded. Not only were you going to have to learn how to read them, get to know them, and be accepted, but you were going to have to figure out how to communicate without talking if possible. You didn’t want them to think any differently of you.

Well, more than they initially would.

Were you going to be able to fit in with them? What were they going to be like? Particularly the panda. Was he able to talk? Would you be able to read him? What if you couldn’t?

After a tour of the buildings, Gojo lead you down the stairs into the arena where the other students were still training. He greets them and instructs them to come over to meet you. The humming-buzzing noise gets louder as they approach and you are able to tell that the taller guy is the loudest which only makes you more nervous. He’s almost as loud as Gojo and you know he’s freaky powerful.

Your only goal today was to try and fit in. Okay just get through introductions without looking like an idiot. If you can do that then maybe, just maybe, this whole new life— your fresh start— wouldn’t be so terrifying. Yeah. You got this. You had to. You couldn’t survive four years alone without anyone who understood you. Back home it was so easy to slip into the background unnoticed. But there were so few of you here you had to fit in. You’d just be a burden to them if you couldn’t. You had to be seen— useful for once.

You get increasingly nervous as they all stand around you and you begin to fiddle with your bracelet, plucking at the beads with shaky fingers as Gojo introduces you to them, simply saying your name and explaining that you’re deaf.

You wished he would have said more and you looked up at him, eyes pleading to give a better explanation. You desperately wanted to fit in. But he didn’t look over at you.

You give everyone a timid wave and notice the guy with platinum blond hair seems to take particular interest in you, his thin brows raised curiously. Unfortunately for you, he’s got a high collared sweater covering his mouth so you won’t be able to read his lips.

Everyone goes around and introduces themselves to you but, as usual, you have no idea what their names are. New words you’ve never seen spoken before, names in particular, were very difficult for you to lip read.

The girl seems a bit standoffish, crossed arms and raised brow, but looks relatively happy to have another woman around nonetheless as she looks you up and down with a bit of approval. You get the feeling she’s pretty intense and despite having the least amount of cursed energy, you’re most definitely intimidated by her presence and sizing you up.

The taller guy seems pretty tired, eye bags and slouched posture, and a bit shy due to his timid wave and smile. But he gives you the impression that he’s pretty easy going and approachable despite the massive amount of buzzing cursed energy he’s struggling to control.

The panda eagerly introduces himself but since you’ve never exactly spoken to a panda before, you have no idea what he says at all. He then gestures to the blond guy and seemingly introduces him since he doesn’t speak to you. Or you don’t think he does anyway. He gives you an eager wave, eyes crinkling with his assumed smile.

Great.

You still had no idea who any of them were. Not to mention, you’re particularly anxious about how you’re going to communicate with the guy who covers his mouth. Hopefully that wasn’t a regular thing with him. Could he even speak? The panda did introduce him and for all you knew, he could be deaf too. You highly doubted that though. He would have signed to you if he was, right?

****************************************************

Gojo told us that the final first year would be arriving today and we were all curious as to who they would be. I got genuinely a bit disappointed at having yet another person who wouldn’t understand me but that’s just how things are for me. Always have been, always will be.

We were in the arena for afternoon training when we heard Gojo come in. With him is the new student, another girl to Maki’s clear intrigue. The pair make their way down the stairs and we meet them at the bottom for introductions.

“Hey guys! This is our final first year Y/N! One important note is that she’s deaf but she can read lips so we’ll do introductions now!” Gojo chirps in explanation.

She gives us a shy smile and wave before continuing to fiddle with the bracelet around her left wrist. She looked absolutely terrified of being here, out of her element and around people who she clearly couldn’t understand. She nodded and smiled along with everyone’s introductions but I know she had no idea what we were saying.

I’m very used to getting that look when I speak. The awkward smile and glimmer of confusion in their eyes, stiff and nervous body language, being obviously uncomfortable and suddenly reserved— I know all the tells.

But something about her quietness was different. It was like she was escaping into her world of silence whereas my quiet was just something I was used to. Something that just inherently came with me.

I felt genuinely bad that she wasn’t understanding but of course there wasn’t anything I could say to help the situation. Panda introduced me and I did my best to be welcoming and approachable. I could tell she had extra no idea about Panda and I, probably because she’d never spoken to a panda and it was difficult to read his lips. Well, snout. Whatever.

I’ll have to do a proper introduction with her later when I can type or write something up. I didn’t want her to feel isolated. I know what that’s like too.

****************************************************

After the very unhelpful introductions, Gojo tells them to resume their training and says that you can just watch for the time being as the allotted afternoon training time was almost over. You nodded and sat down on one of the benches as the others continued.

The girl wielded a polearm and was clearly very talented with it, sparring with the Tired Guy who’s weapon of choice was a katana. The Panda and Blond Guy didn’t wield weapons and instead goofed off a bit and worked on their physical fitness, doing a few laps around the track and the like.

Training ended a little bit before dinner time and you walked back to the dorms with the others, behind them on the dirt path. Blond Guy looked back at you a couple times, his expression hard to read and you hoped he wasn’t being judgmental even though he most likely was.

You weren’t very hungry due to the large meal you’d eaten on the train a few hours ago so you simply headed off to your room to unpack. Plus you wanted an escape from the loud buzzing of cursed energy that was going to take some getting used to.

You started with your litany of clothes, filling up your closet before you started on the mess of boxes. You hadn’t exactly organized them very well in your rush to pack and you had to dig through them to find everything you needed as you went.

The room quickly turned into a mess, items scattered all over the place as you looted through boxes and simply dumped a few of them out on your bed to rifle through the contents.

But a couple hours later and your room was complete, reflecting your bedroom back home, your style, and personality as you liked it to. It was an extension of yourself in a way and you felt much more at home now that it was decorated and the like.

Okay. Nice and organized and just like home. Yeah. This is good.

It was now your new sanctuary in this new and honestly overwhelming place. Despite your orientation, you were still pretty clueless as to what was going on around here and you struggled to keep up with the fast pace of the place.

It was well after dinner time when you got hungry and thankfully, one of the few things you understood was that the kitchen was communal and you had free reign to use whatever you’d like unless it was clearly marked with someone’s name.

You made yourself a simple sandwich and as you finished, you heard the buzzing increase like someone was walking toward you. This noise was more of a humming that wasn’t overwhelming and had an almost pleasant pitch. Like a machine quietly whirring as it worked intently on its task.

Cursed energy noises— that was your one and only auditory cue as to your surroundings and since most everyone had some amount of cursed energy, you learned to tell where people were relative to you.

****************************************************

I ran into Y/N later that evening in the kitchen on my way to get something to drink. She had her back turned to me as she prepared something on the counter and as much as I wanted to approach her, I didn’t want to scare her or anything by suddenly appearing or tapping her shoulder.

So I stood there a bit oddly as I contemplated how I wanted to approach but a few seconds later, she turned around. Thankfully she didn’t look surprised or scared about my presence and I chalked it up to her having felt my footsteps as I walked in or something. That or she just wasn’t a jumpy person and was used to others randomly appearing.

She looked really troubled, her brows furrowed at seemingly nothing and her shoulders slouched as she held a blue ceramic plate with a simple sandwich on it.

Looking up at me, she froze, eyes wide for a second.

Did I scare her? Was there something intimidating about me? Was it because it was just the two of us in here? I didn’t want to be threatening.

She blinked a few times before she gave me an awkward smile before her expression fell even further than it was before.

I did my best to ask if she was okay but she didn’t pick up on it immediately. But after a few seconds, she understood and shrugged her shoulders in answer before looking down at the plate in her hand, expression conveying some sadness among other things.

She holds her hand up in an odd goodbye of sorts, almost as if to stop me from asking or saying anything before she scampered off to her room, shutting the door loudly.

What was going on in her head? Was I not as approachable as I thought? Or was something else going on? She probably had a very overwhelming day and another social interaction might be too much for her right now. I wasn’t offended at her awkward departure, I was just worried and confused about what she was thinking. I didn’t want her to feel isolated here.

****************************************************

Turning around, sandwich in hand, you saw Blond Guy in the kitchen behind you. He gave you a smile and wave before his expression changed. His brows furrowed and his head tilted to the side ever so slightly.

Your eyes widened as you froze in place.

How were you gonna communicate with him? The one person around here that you can’t understand at all. Was he gonna think you were weird for smiling and waving and gesturing instead of talking? Would you be able to fit in here with him?

He pointed to you and then gave you a hesitant thumbs up. Your own brows furrowed in confusion before you realized he was asking if you were okay.

Are you okay? No, not really. You were overwhelmed and exhausted and hungry and terrified of what tomorrow was going to be like.

But you give him an awkward smile before shrugging your shoulders and diverting your gaze from his violet eyes to the sandwich on your plate.

You notice what looks like a frown on his face, again you still couldn’t see his mouth, but the rest of his face conveyed it fine.

Oh god, what is he thinking? Does he think you’re weird? Does he not like you? Is he scared to try and communicate with you?

You hold your hand up briefly as a goodbye of sorts before sheepishly heading back to the quiet of your room.

The weight of the day settled onto your shoulders as you shut the door behind you. For a moment, you stood there, leaning your forehead against it, letting the quiet calm you down.

Finally, a space where you didn’t have to try so hard.

[partyanimal167]

Talk Me Through It- Miguel x F!Reader

Someone (me) has discovered nsfw audios and has not recovered. I've also been into the nerd!Miguel fics that have been going around, but I won't bully him much in mine lol. I'm trying to get some nsfw practice in before I continue my multi-fic, so

cw: nsfw, mdni, fem reader, college au, author knows some Spanish, acquaintances to lovers, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk, munch Miguel

Who was this? ...WHO! Ain't no way...he sound like that? Shit...

You barely stopped yourself from dropping your head on the desk as another student finished presenting their speech. You had mixed feelings about your Public Speaking class considering your major, but there were worse subjects to take. You already presented yours and were only staying to review other students' for extra credit.

You tapped your pencil absentmindedly as the next student stood to speak. You sat up a little better in your seat seeing who it was.

Miguel O'Hara grabbed people's attention whether he meant to or not. He took up space with his height, broad shoulders, and overall built physique. People were very shocked to learn that he was not an athlete his freshman year, and it probably haunted the football coach every season. You only knew him from hearsay and the occasional interaction when he was at the library during your work-study. You noticed him. It was impossible not to, so you were a bit intrigued to say the least.

The man stood at the front of the class and stumbled to get his laptop connected to the projector. Before beginning, he took out a pair of thin-framed glasses and cleared his throat.

"The work-life balance is something that many experts agree contributes to one's personal health. Yet there are many careers that demand inconsistent hours and strenuous work in order for progress to be made. How-," the man paused when he glanced from the screen to the array of faces looking back at him. He blanked for a moment, and you weren't sure if it was nerves or stress. After a moment, an awkward fake cough seemed to break his daze. He went on.

The presentation was actually pretty informative in your opinion, and Miguel did get his points across. You were surprised by the nervous emotions and little habits he displayed. He seemed to try to find a face to latch onto for eye-contact, and more than once did it feel like he was looking at you. You weren't quite sure, but it didn't matter really. He looked a tinge embarrassed when he finished and grabbed his things, but you hope it didn't bother him too much. People freeze, stutter, mispronounce things all the time.

After class you went to grab some lunch with your friends before the afternoon classes began. Your school was very diverse, and it excited you when you could hear different languages spoken at different tables. It was the main reason why you were taking a Spanish class as an elective. The world was connected in many ways, and many people around the world could speak two or even three languages. You glanced through your Spanish notes for a moment as you remembered that there was a project being assigned today. You were nervous, but your friends told you you were worrying for no reason.

...

"It's seem we'll be working together." That smooth voice grabbed your attention as people were packing up to go. You turned and looked up to see Miguel leaning on a desk near you. "I promise this project is going to go a lot better than that speech I gave earlier."

Oh so he did notice you. You smiled and shook your head. "Oh don't worry about that. Your speech was fine." you insisted. "Besides, why are you taking this class any way?" you were sure you had seen him giving parent tours for prospective international students.

Miguel chuckled as he shrugged his shoulders. "Easy A." You figured, but you also couldn't blame him. "How do you feel about presenting in Spanish though?"

You tilted your hand a little. "Eh I'm kinda okay with it. I'm much better reading it than speaking, but I can hold a conversation."

Miguel seemed to light up hearing that. "Verdad? De donde eres?" (Really? Where are you from?)

You didn't expect him to switch so soon, but you continued with the conversation. "Aqui, pero estudie espanol para cuatro anos y muchos gentes a la mi trabajo hablar." You knew what you said wasn't perfect, but Miguel nodded his head along as you spoke. (Here, but I studied Spanish for four years, and many people at my job speak)

"Bueno, pero tu sonas muy nerviosa. Por que?" You thought you were in your head, but somehow it felt as if he was expressing himself more in this language. You couldn't help but blush from the change. (Good, but you sound nervous. Why?)

You chuckled. "I am nervous. I like to say things correctly, and it's hard when I know I'm wrong."

Miguel shook his head. "Me gusta como tu sonas." he grinned. "Well, I'll text you my schedule, and we can find a time for us to meet up."

"Sweet! I look forward to working with you." you beamed.

The man softened a little. "Same."

~~~

You slumped in bed scrolling through your phone trying to find something to occupy the night. There were a couple of shows you could watch, comics to read, or just endless scrolling. You were looking through some fandom content when one of your mutuals sent you a message.

N3rdT@amer: Girl! I just found this. You got to check it out!

There was a link attached, and it brought you to someone's post where an video teased an audio release. You weren't sure why they sent you this but decided to give it a go. You popped in your headphones as recommended and took a deep breath.

You could hear what sounded to be background noise of people chatting and jazz music. The sounds of steam and glass clinking set up the scene in a coffee shop. Foot-steps got louder then a voice spoke loud and clear.

"Hi, can I get a cold brew with a little hazelnut. Large please." a pause..."on the house? What did I do to deserve such kindness?" There was a tonal change that followed--a little flustered and shy. "Oh, you see me scrabbling with my schoolwork over there? Hehe, that's very kind of you. I want to give you something in return." A pause.

The smooth and confident attitude returned. "No, I insist. You off soon? Perfect."

The pause seemed to indicate a scene change, and you gasped when your ears were filled with the sound of lips smacking and heavy pants that you could almost feel on your skin.

"Mierda," the panting continued, "keep playing in my hair like that I'm gonna keep you up all night." a hearty chuckle followed by a loud slick sound had your thighs clenching, "would you like that, chiquita? Then how about-,"

The audio cut off there, and you wanted to chuck your phone at the wall. What the fuck? What the fuck was that! You let out an irritated breath before clicking on the profile. You choked on a cough.

You were no newbie to the realms of internet personalities or seeing people's personal interests. You had mutuals who posted fanfics and also sold sex content. There were people at your school who would be seen as uppity that enjoyed streaming RPG walkthroughs. It wasn't that surprising but...

Fucking Miguel O'Hara? Fuck.

It was an account where he teased his audio works as well as promoted others. You couldn't believe it. That gorgeous man could be a model, and he was also using his voice to make some cash? Honestly, good for him, but now you were left with a little problem that wasn't going away as you scrolled to see what other works he had. You bit your nail a little when you saw you could buy an promotional audio for $1. You groaned internally...Fuck it.

~~~

You were burning up and tried to figure out how you got in so deep.

It had been a few weeks since your...discovery, and you were screaming mentally on the inside. You didn't think a voice could get you so hot and bothered, but you found yourself going down that rabbit hole with a few late-night purchases to your totally unaware partner. It was funny in a sense because you remembered how nervous and kinda awkward Miguel sounded in your Public Speaking class. You noticed it a little when you guys met for your project when he had to speak to cashiers or other classmates he didn't really know well.

It was cute, to be honest. You could tell he was a little self-conscious about it, but it was hard for you to believe Miguel didn't know about his effect on people. Even now, he took you out to celebrate the spectacular presentation you two gave at a local coffee shop. He must have stuttered or something since he was scratching the back of his head, but the barista just beamed at him and batted her eyelashes. You couldn't blame her really.

It was just such a night-and-day situation. That man was so confident sounding in his works and in Spanish, but when there was the occasional slip-up he blushed.

Your drink was placed in front of you, and you looked up with a smile. "Gracias."

Miguel smiled softly at you. "Claro," he took a seat in front of you and stretched. "I'm glad we did well."

"Same," you took a sip of your drink, "but it's not like you weren't going to." you added nonchalantly.

Miguel quirked an eyebrow. "Hmm, why you say that?"

"You know your stuff, and you can speak well." you answered easily.

Miguel brought his drink to his lips, and your eyes glanced at it. I think that's the drink he ordered in that teaser. Your eyes shot up at the thought. Stop. Stop! Don't do that. You've been doing good, self. Not when we're in front of him! "Everything okay?"

"Huh!" you perked up and then giggled awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah."

The man continued. "Well, I try my best. I just don't want to look dumb in front of people."

You kissed your teeth with a shake of the head. "You definitely don't look dumb, trust me."

Miguel looked at your curiously. "Then what do people think of me?"

You tried to stop your brain from glitching. There was no way this man didn't know how attractive he was--at least not completely. "Well uh," you grabbed your phone as a diversion, "let me show you this video! There's this girl who went to Puerto Rico and-," you tapped quickly on your phone while disconnecting your headphones, but wasn't really paying attention as you moved frantically.

"Ah coño, you feeling good, mi corazon?" A deep moan followed. "Do you like that? Let me give you some more. "

You froze. He froze. You made a short squeal as you slammed your phone down, wanting to run out immediately. You thought you closed that tab. Why didn't you close that tab? Fuck, he totally heard that!

Miguel was slow to speak. "What was that?" you blinked and made a dismissive sound. Miguel lowered his voice a little bit. "What was that, mami?"

You know your panic was displayed on your face, but you continued to play dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about...anyway, so here's that vid-,"

Miguel's chuckle cut you off. It was different than his normal one. It was deeper, meaner--the one he used professionally. "Ah, it's not good to lie, bebita." he leaned in closer so only you could hear him. "You like my voice? It turns you on?" he growled lowly.

You refused to look at him. You turned to the side and played with your straw. "Mi-Miguel, we're in public." A mumble. You felt your face warm up significantly; you changed your posture a little and unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.

His low snicker went down your body. "So? I bet you were listening to that earlier. Was it while you were at the library? Supposed to be working, but you wanna hear me call you a good girl and think about how wet my fingers would sound inside you?" You bit your lip then released a shaky breath. "Mirame, chiquita," he watched you turn a little and meet his gaze. He grinned. "Que bueno" he looked you up and down and licked his lips. "Wanna hear something else?" you nodded a little. "Words," (Look at me, little girl./How nice)

"Yes, Miguel."

"Good girl."

~~~

You fidgeted nervously as you sat up straight on Miguel's bed and tried to avoid eye-contact. He was looking down at you completely smug after not saying a word to you on the way over. You were lost in your thoughts, but now, you could only hear the thumping of your heart in your chest.

"Tell me pretty girl," you nearly jumped finally hearing him, "did you get off to my voice?" you opened your mouth to speak, "Mirame."

Slowly, you did, and the sight was wicked. Miguel looked as cocky as you imagined him to. The angle of him looking down at you while you sat made the situation all the more intense and seductive. His eyes devoured you and told you that he was completely in control of the situation--enjoying it.

"I did."

He made a non-committal grunt--glancing around his room in thought. "I want to see."

Your body lit up. "What!"

Miguel chuckled. "Why not? You want me to give you instructions?"

You squeaked. "No! That's not the point...it's just embarrassing."

"Aww, but you did it all those nights at home." he leaned by your ear, "Imagining it was me making all those wet pussy sounds with my mouth. I bet you were hoping I'd find out." he watched as you squirmed from the sheer proximity and how he spoke. His voice dropped lower. "I bet you're wet now." he huffed.

"Miguel," you whined. You were asking for something, but even you weren't sure what exactly.

"What, baby?" he grinned.

You grumbled for a moment before yanking his collar towards you and smacking your lips together. You kissed him to shut him up, but maybe that wasn't a good idea either. Miguel met yours enthusiasm and groaned at the feeling of spark finally igniting. He leaned further in, and you found yourself on your back wrapping your arms around your neck.

He caged you in with his thighs before moving away to tease up and down your neck. He bit and sucked all over--memorizing what and where made you make a certain sound. "Ah there you go. You can make as much noise as you want for me." his words vibrated throughout you. You reached up and rubbed your fingers through his hair and along his scalp. He groaned. "Mmm, someone was listening." he moved up just below your ear and took a teasing nibble from your lobe. ''Which one did you like the most?"

It took you a second to realize what he was talking about, but you didn't want him to pull back. You were already this far; no point in shying about now. "The- the brat tamer one...with the neighbor."

Miguel seemed to approve your answer. "Naughty girl," his hands found your hips and slid a little under your shirt, "you need someone to put you in your place? Good thing I caught you being a slut." you whimpered at the name. "You were just gonna let this be your dirty little secret, huh? Playing with yourself after we did our homework--remembering how we chatted so innocently."

You gripped tightly on his shoulders as his hands ran further up while his teeth bit near your collar. "I should blindfold you right now. You don't need to look at me to finish."

"No! No, please. I want more. I wanna see and touch you, please." you took a leg and wrapped it by his knee--trying to bring him closer.

"Greedy and naughty. Tsk, what should I do with you?" Miguel leaned back before taking the hem of his shirt and lifting it away. Your eyes widened at the display of muscles and beautiful brown skin. You licked your lips. "Was this what you were imagining, chiquita?"

Your hand shyly reached out to touch his abs. "This is so much better." you nearly whispered. Miguel chuckled at your compliment. He backed away slowly; then you yelped as your ankle was pulled moving you to the edge of the bed.

You were bright-eyed as you saw Miguel kneel on the floor easily pulling your pants down. You moaned when he started kissing up one leg after throwing it over his shoulder. He massaged the other and wasn't shy to lick up and down--planting kisses and bites.

You gripped the sheets and started panting and wiggling. "That's alright, hermosa. I wanna hear everything from you. Haré música con este coño." He paused once he was closer and took a look at your panties. "All this just from some simple words." It was almost condescending yet admirable how he said it. "You flatter me." (I'll make music with this pussy)

You shrieked as he mouthed you through the cloth. This man was a tease. You shouldn't be surprised, but you were going to get him to cooperate as much as your foggy mind could do.

"Mmm papi chulo, give it to me good. Plesse baby," you begged, and it seemed that Miguel had a weakness for words too. He wasted no time dragging your soaked panties down and toss them behind. He grinned meanly hearing a faint plop sound on the floor. So wet.

Your hand quickly found the back of his head once his tongue made contact on your clit. You didn't think he'd go for it so quickly, but it seemed he was bent on getting you to cum hard and fast. He lapped up your cunt and made it slicker with his drool. He easily lifted you up a little to bring you closer, and you found yourself losing it when he teased by your hole.

He didn't let up--groaning when you gasped after he gave you a finger. He pumped slowly yet consistently and moved his mouth around to give everywhere all of his attention. Soon, your ears could only focus on the sounds that were coming out of your own mouth and the approval from Miguel below. He took a breather to play with your clit and was in daze hearing how it wet and slippery you sounded. You were all pants, moans, and whimpers. He smirked up at you--face shiny and wet.

"You sound so pretty, hermosa. You gonna soak my sheets by the time I'm done with you." you clenched around his fingers. "Mmm, I know baby; you want it badly." he started fingering you faster. "I wouldn't even need my dick to get this pussy squirting." your moans went up a pitch as that knot suddenly got tighter. "Ooo, hermosa. Such a slutty pussy doesn't even need a dick to make her happy. I should've made you cum with my voice, yeah? Say all those filthy things about you being a brat and how you make daddy so mad." you sobbed at that.

"You should've just been a good girl and asked daddy to fuck this pretty cunt of yours." He sped up and you were pulling at the sheets as three fingers made you clench up--going harder and making you fill fuller. "Naughty girls keep secrets. Maybe I'll stop right now."

That got you talking. "No, no, daddy please. Daddy please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a slut and didn't ask for your dick. Please I'll be so good baby. I'll be such a good girl." you babbled on.

Miguel's cock was begging to be free. You knew just what to say it seemed. "Mmm, that's what I want to hear. Come on reina, let me see you make a mess. You gonna cum on my fingers, for me?" Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you panted and struggled for air.. Wet sex sounds bounced off the walls, and you were going to be done soon. "Start cumming bebita. I'll fuck you so good after this. Yeah? Give it to me. Right there, mmhm. Fuck there you go." Miguel watched as your release started coating his fingers and dripped onto his wrist. He kept going a little til you started to twitch then slowly decreased to stop.

You were slumped on the bed trying to process what just happened while your body recovered from such an intense orgasm. "Fuck," you said to yourself. You groaned as your legs were gently rubbed, and you could barely glance down at the man.

He was all smiles and innocence despite how he met your gaze and cleaned his fingers. Gosh that mouth was going to be the death of you.

As if he reading your thoughts, he grinned before starting to move. "Let me show you what else my body can do."

~~~

Whew! Oh my gosh, I can't believe I wrote this. I'm actually happy with it. I like how Miguel's personality is and I hope my mediocre Spanish skills weren't a pain. I needed to get this idea out my head, and I'm so happy how this is. Maybe I should try writing audio scripts 🤔Thanks for reading~

(Go download Quinn y'all. You will not be disappointed)

[idontknowreallywhy]

A little Teeny Scott wip snippet because the little Scooter popped into my brain as he often does when I’m a bit overwhelmed.

Tis another snapshot of my OC Primary teacher POV (oh oops I have two! No, not THAT one the other one! The one who taught teeny Scott rather than the one who trolls adult Scott)

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Like many a primary class store cupboard, the one in Felicity Miles’ domain was crammed full of everything under the sun that could plausibly be “useful for craft one day” alongside all the more formal stationery supplies, brightly coloured sports equipment, first aid items, cuddly toys with their own bandages (often deployed to greater effect than the official first aid items).

She also had a small shelf, high up, she kept for the special pieces of work, the ones which demonstrated where a child had suddenly Got Excited - technicolour art, poetry with unashamed overuse of newly discovered adverbs, science projects, Scott Tracy’s poster about Pi. She always smiled to remember how after his initial disappointment about what the little squiggly symbol DIDN’T mean, how Absolutely he had adopted his new “favourite number”. She had a few from each class and when teacher life all got a bit overwhelming she’d take half an hour at the end of the day and reflect on why she did this in the first place. Retaining the space meant her marking piles were rather more crammed together and higgledy piggledy than ideal - her more organised colleagues would certainly raise an eyebrow - but it was worth it.

There was also a space about half a metre wide and about the same high on the very bottom shelf which it was important she kept empty. Again, the independent observer might have queries as to why, when space was at such a premium, this was necessary. She would probably just smile enigmatically and point at the tiny masking tape sign in wobbly 7-year old handwriting that said “The Octopus House” and leave them with more questions than they were ever going to get answers to.

The Octopus House wasn’t a secret but she didn’t advertise its existence. The few kids who knew about it found it because they needed it. The ones who needed to hide away for a moment, but not be too far away from the safety of their peers or the ones who needed to squeeze up small to process the big feelings without their limbs causing trouble.

It had received its name three years ago on that memorable day when she Lost a Student. He was just gone for at least 20 minutes which must have cost her at least a year of her life. Between the three adults in the class that day they’d subtly searched the corridors, the toilets, the lunch hall, the library and what could be seen of the playground but it was like the child had evaporated. Trying not to panic she’d sent the rest of the class out with the experienced TA and the very-green-but-compensating-with-extreme-enthusiasm NQT to do Olympic relay races on the playground (thank you Ancient Greek class project).

She leant on the back of the door for thirty seconds to catch her breath and psych herself up for the inevitable crisis meeting with the head and the moment at which that would turn in to needing to break the news to his Father.

The silence crowded in on her and she felt herself beginning to properly panic.

She didn’t even know exactly when he’d disappeared. He was there at the start of the lesson, seemed happy, seemed engaged. He’d been very excited about the task they had been given to recreate the Parthenon out of craft paper and had taken charge of his small group so naturally… they’d all been given their part of the mission and they were actually DOING it! Very effectively it seemed! She’d made a mental note to add “leadership skills” to the list of positive things she was going to put on his school report (because the previous few she’d read had made her nauseous with anger) and turned to assist a wailing child with no less than three glue sticks embedded in her hair. And that was… half an hour before? Oh hell that was a long time.

She and the other adults had been so busy mediating the minor battles breaking out in other groups that when a little voice piped up “where’s Scotty? He was sposed to make the lintels!” and her blood had suddenly run cold.

If he was hurt or in danger because she took her eye off him…

She blinked back tears and had just composed herself to pick up the phone to the head teacher’s office when she heard a tiny sniff and spun around to identify the source. Nobody was there.

Hardly daring to breathe, she tiptoed through the room checking under desks already checked three times.

Just as she was concluding she’d imagined it, there it was again - the tiniest noise but definitely a sniff and seemingly from the direction of the cupboard he couldn’t be in because the thumb turn bolt was still in the locked position.

Feeling like she was going crazy she unlocked the door and looked inside anyway.

Obviously it was empty. Her wishful thinking was wasting time. They needed to get a proper search party organised.

She turned to leave and heard it for a third time.

And it was that day, in her 5th year of teaching, she discovered just how small a ball a tall child could make themselves into. Seriously, the octopus had nothing on this kid.

The space was much smaller then, barely 30cm wide and only there at all because she’d taken out the long, thin box of baton-shaped sticks that had been wedged tightly in between stacks of who knew what. All she could see was a tangle of uniformed limbs and a mass of sweaty chestnut hair.

He obviously knew she was there and was holding his breath, clearly hoping not to be seen. Expecting to be in trouble.

Felicity picked up her phone and sent a quick “crisis averted” message to her TA and then, after ensuring the door was wedged wide open, she slowly lowered herself to the floor. Pulling her knees up to her chin to mirror his posture she rested her back on some boxes a few inches to the left of where he’d tucked himself away.

And she waited.

[nico-di-genova]

Alexander Rossi Lore Drop Night round 3.

Honestly, these are just becoming my podcast recaps at this point. Like a “here’s what you missed on Glee” except it’s a “here’s what you maybe knew before me, because alex said it three years ago” kind of deal.

Not a cat guy, which feels like a given, seeing as he has two dogs and is very clearly a dog dad. But James called cats the “spawn of satan” and Alex agreed, so he’s actually very anti cat. Ironic, since he’s clearly the grumpy black cat in his friendships.

Likes pickled beans, which I guess are a thing in Canada. I don’t even want to think of what these could possibly taste like, I’m a little scared of the concept tbh. But like, glad he enjoys them I guess. He apparently raids Canadians houses for said beans when he visits them.

Eats Applebees before every indy 500. Idk if he was joking about this or not, he seemed pretty serious. If this wasn’t a joke…I’m severely judging him. Like, sure, the $5 drink deals are great. But sir, you are rich, have some class. Go to chilis.

Went to DC for a work event in 2021 and it was his first time getting to spend time in the city, so he explored a little. He ended up visiting the spy museum and figured he’d be in and out pretty quickly - like 20 minutes tops. Turns out, this place was like Disneyland to him, he spent three and a half hours there. He was invested in solving a mystery they apparently task guests with solving? Idk, I go to DC for the air and space museum, we have different interests clearly. His code name was pine cone. Given his competitive nature and love for acquiring obscure knowledge, it feels like a given he would love this niche museum where you pretend to be a secret spy and go against other guests in a fun little game. Idk why he thought he’d only be there for 20 minutes. Also I like to think he was surrounded by other kids when he was doing all this. Just this tall grown man walking around calling himself pine cone and feeling proud of himself when he succeeded at pretend spying against a group of pre-teens. Good for pine cone, proud of him for succeeding.

[writerwithnofreetime]

Try Again

Pairing: Law x black!fem reader 

College! au 

You and Law were both willing participants in a summer fling that turned sour. You make it your life's mission (for three months) to make him regret tossing you to the wayside so carelessly. It all comes to a head at this party. 

wc: 4.025k

cw: mentions of alcohol, inebriation, smoking (weed and cigs), i say vape smoke like once, shit gets angsty at the end, crying 

a/n: this one is for my college girls :). I was planning on writing an Ace x reader, but I found a random draft and the spirit of Law took over me lol. I got way too into this, so I plan on turning it into a series (hopefully max 5-6 parts). Please please pleasee! Feel free to give me feedback and let me know how you feel about certain writing choices/ plot points. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Part 1- The idgaf War

He was not expecting to see you here. 

You knew it. You were counting on it. Law most likely remembers you as the super introverted girl who’d much rather stay inside with a glass of wine and a good book than go out partying with friends. You knew he viewed you as a fledgling of a woman, too naïve to be taken seriously.

It should also be known that all the heaviness in the atmosphere that contained you and Mr. Trafalgar (is what you called him in your head, using his first name feels far too intimate than he deserves) was mainly his doing. You always knew he existed. He was a friend of a friend of a friend, and you would see him out now and then, but there was no reason to speak to one another. The two of you officially met at a train station during the summer. After a week of sharing the frustration that train delays brought, he came up with the idea to exchange numbers. To- you know, let each other know about the status of the train. After a week of turning texts like ‘trains five minutes late’ into conversations about anything from tastes to relationship statuses, he suggested you guys catch dinner together.

Thus began a summer whirlwind romance, which swiftly swirled its way into a tornado as the fall semester's start was approaching. Law, who was interning at a hospital seemed increasingly busy at times he had previously allotted for you. He canceled plans he made. Phone calls went from once a day at lunch to twice a week- if you were lucky- at odd hours. You had no idea what to make of the situation, other than look at the optics and realize that you would be left in the cold if things went on this way. You made the call to end things, and to your dismay, he agreed. Although your fear had played a pivotal hand in the way fate fell, it could have been sated if the asshole had offered a sliver of reassurance at that moment. The two of you agreed to stay friends, but neither of you meant it. 

Staying friends was code for ‘let’s still follow each other on social media and kind of act like nothing happened, though we’ve seen each other's bare asses.’ It would be much easier to play it cool than to explain to any of your mutual friends why the two of you might not want to be around each other. 

The recluse version of you had played the front for 90 days so this plan would be most fruitful. To social media- and by proxy, Law- you were busy attending class, working, and studying. When you would post a selfie (semi-rare), Law would like it but never felt compelled enough to text you. Maybe the reminder of how gorgeous you were wasn’t enough for him. 

There was the possibility the two of you would run into each other, yet you accounted for this. It pained you, but you avoided the quaint cafe you introduced him to that quickly became your guys’ spot. The cafe (Puddings’) was not your favorite- you were smarter than that- but a former safe space. You also passed up on several parties and random outings Nami or any other of your friends invited you to if you so much as got an inkling he would show up.

Only you knew that those 90 days you went unseen were preparation for this month. You planned for this night to be the season finale of the fiasco that was you and Law’s (situational) relationship, and you would go out with a bang. For 90 days, you planned, scrapped, replanned outfits, and worked out ferociously. You salivated at the thought of this night. Your objective was simple- you would pop out looking like a knockout and the realization that he fucked up would hit Mr. Trafalgar so hard he would spontaneously combust. 

D-day was a party your buddy Luffy was throwing. Nami, one of your closest college friends was adamant that you made an appearance tonight, complaining about how long it’d been since everyone was together. You didn’t object. Luffy was known for throwing the best parties in the area, especially after winning a big boxing match. You knew of Luffy through Nami (his manager) who told you Law had recently become a part of Luffys medical crew for the biggest fight of his career thus far- against some guy named Doflamingo. He would be present for this party, even if only to stand on a random wall with his arms folded like Nami described on one of your Facetime calls a while back. 

Since you were here, like this, Law knew that it only meant one thing: A declaration of war. The scales were already tipped in your favor. Your armor of choice tonight was the tightest little black dress in your closet and a pair of black Converse. The dress had a square neckline and showed just enough of your chest, and if anyone got close enough, they'd see the frills from the lacy white bra you wore underneath. Your hair was piled on top of your head in a perfectly picked puff, with face-framing coils on either side of your face, right in front of your ears. Your lips were glossed clear and your makeup simple- the embodiment of cute and casual. To others, it always appeared like you were effortlessly beautiful. Mr. Trafalgar probably thought you didn’t know how to wield your beauty like a sword, to make him kneel at your feet with an offhanded glance. But he was going to learn very soon.

The smell of weed, vape smoke, and booze slapped you in the face as you made your way into the function. The two Buzzballs you pre-gamed with hit you halfway into your Uber trip, so the flush of party wind was disorienting. You pushed- well shimmied, it was pretty packed- on. Clung to your left shoulder was a small black purse with your necessities- lipgloss, debit card, ID, and some dum dums (real bad bitches keep candy in their purse). In your right hand is the unopened bottle of Bacardi Tropical you promised Nami and Vivi to bring. 

It didn’t take long to find them in the kitchen area of the party, with the usual crew- Luffy, whom you heard before you saw, solo cup raised with his signature smile. Sanji has a cigarette in his mouth, a blunt behind his ear (you would question him about that later), and a pretty brunette under his arm you hadn’t seen before (typical). Zoro is leaning against the counter closest to Luffy chatting with…. Law? Well, you couldn’t see the dickheads face, but you knew damn well that was the back of Law's head you were looking at. You smiled devilishly to yourself. This was just the situation you were expecting. You stride over and greet your friends. 

“Y/n!” Luffy exclaimed as soon as you set the bottle on the counter by the other ones. “I’m glad you could make it!” He put an arm around you and smiled even wider. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!” You giggled. Luffy is always great vibes when you’re around him. 

“Yeah, I guess I have been a bit mia…” You trail off with a playful smile. Nami yanks Luffy’s arm, chastising him for almost spilling whatever was in his cup on you. Vivi laughs and greets you with a hug. Sanji introduces you to the girl you know for a fact he met no longer than a week ago as the ‘love of his life”. Her name is Viola and she has your blond-haired friend wrapped around her finger. Someone taps your shoulder, and as you turn to see who, your eyes transiently focus on Mr.Traflagar’s visage. It was hard to tell if he was looking at you, the brim of his hat was pulled pretty low tonight. His face was facing yours. It was pretty dark, but you noticed his lip twitch into a scowl as he took the joint from Zoro’s hand. Law clearly senses the bloodlust in your demeanor. You quickly adjust your gaze to the person who requested your attention.

“If I knew you were bringing more liquor, I would’ve texted you. We ran out of sake about thirty minutes into the party,” Zoro says, peering at you with an easy grin. You roll your eyes and display a cheeky smile of your own.

“Oh, please. You’ll drink anything you get your hands on so shut up, and let's take some shots.” You turn to face the counter full of liquor and grab a cup. Zoro moves past you and fills his cup with the Bacardi you just brought. Nami forces him to pour a shot for the girls before he makes off with the rest. The four of you cheer, then lean your heads back to take sips (in Zoros' case, gulps) of the vodka. 

The burn produces heat in your throat, forcing you to part your lips and exhale. However, it seemed the side of your head would catch fire long before your windpipe. Maybe the incoming tipsiness had you imagining things, but you swear you could feel his eyes on you, dancing across your body and soaking up your frame. Still, you refused to acknowledge his presence. 

No one has noticed that the area y’all are conjugating in had suddenly become a war zone, let alone the blaze emanating from Law’s stare. Your target was now to your immediate right since you and Zoro had traded places. Zoro and Luffy are going shot for shot, entertaining Nami and Vivi. Sanji and his new lover had quietly disappeared after you all took a shot together. 

“Y/n.” He said it loud enough for you to hear it over the music, but it wasn’t like he was raising his voice. His tone was firm and even, and clearly laced with the influence of weed. It seemed to ring in your ears and vibrate in your brain.

You faced him and scanned his countenance with your eyes. He looked… okay. Fine, more than okay. He looked the fuck good. He wore a black hoodie with a white top underneath, his favorite pair of jeans, and black Jordans. There was a decent amount of space between the two of you, but you were close enough to see that he was, in fact checking you out, with his eyes trained on your ass in particular. Shit, it was poking in this dress, which was the defining factor in you choosing it tonight.

You quickly downed the rest of your cup.

“Trafalgar,” you replied cooly, not faltering under his punitive gaze. Seriously. Law looked genuinely bothered by your presence. He was squinting at you, almost as if you were some mirage. The look in his eye made your chest burn with feelings you were actively trying to suppress. Still, he would not win this battle of wills. Not when you knew that simply being here was enough to ruin his night. You craned your head to the side and gave him an easy smile. A smile that you know for certain would weaken his composure. 

It strikes him, you’re sure—his right eye twitches.

“I…..” he trails off, scanning your figure again. You clear your throat and turn to face him. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here tonight.” 

The statement stunned you because it was exactly what you wanted. It also seemed- dangerously honest?  Law was never this forthcoming in the past. He’s the liar-by-omission, roundabout truth-telling type. What is he playing at? You glance at him, brows furrowed.

“Why wouldn’t I be here? Luffy and I are good friends.”

“You weren’t at the match.”

“I couldn’t make it. Besides, I’m here now, having a great time with my friends.” The two of you hold a gaze. Law parted his lips but quickly decided against whatever he was going to say. A chuckle escapes you. “Aren’t we friends, Mr. Trafalgar?”

He raises a brow at the use of his surname. 

“No,” He says after a ten-second pause. He takes one step toward you, and you have half a mind to help him bridge the gap. “I’m not your friend y/n.” His tone is resolute and his eyes, though half-lidded, reflect the same. 

The closeness of his voice resurfaces dangerous memories. Heat rose in your cheeks and the pit of your stomach, but you would not let that control you. You steadied yourself, remembering why you were in this position in the first place. How easy it was for Law to distance himself from you after the night the two of you almost crossed the line. How he responded to your rant at Zepplins with ‘ if that’s what you think is best for you’ then immediately left when you told him you wanted to end things. The text he sent you after saying the two of you would always ‘be cool’. He didn’t fight for you then, so he doesn’t get to make you horny now.  You smile sweetly, but the sentiment turns sour by the time it reaches your eyes. He recoils at the look. 

“Good,” you say warmly. There was more you could say, more you wanted to say, but you knew it would sting more if you kept it short. You spin around, not wanting to spend another moment looking into the asshole's eyes. You rejoin your friends' conversation as if you have never been missing. 

Zoro pours too much tequila into your cup, and you can’t even be bothered to scold him for it. You immediately down half and chase it with a Gatorade, hoping that the electrolytes will be enough to save you from a hangover in the morning. Zoro glances at you, one brow raised.

“You okay there?” Your moss-haired friend has always been extremely perceptive. You press your lips together and nod your head.

“I’m great. I just want to make the most of tonight.” He looks at you again, straight-faced. Zoro’s not buying your shit, but he won't pry any further. Not tonight at least. His eyes focus just past you, then back on you again. “What?”

He raises his cups to his lips to hide his smirk as he nods in Law’s direction. You feel your cheeks burn and a finger at your shoulder, followed by the side of Law’s head. You refuse to move anything but your eyes. Zoro turns around to give the two of you as much privacy as possible. 

“Y/n,” Law starts. His breath is heavy in your ears and his voice reaches every part of you. “I get the feeling if I don’t ask you to speak to me now, I’ll never hear from you again. Please, talk to me.” You lift your chin and pout in frustration. Law wasn’t playing fair. He straightens himself as you turn to face him, arms folded.

“You want to do this right now?” 

“Not here.” You squint. “On the porch.” He adds. You shrug at him and Law visibly relaxes. Two gulps emptied the contents of your cup. You grab a water bottle and previously opened Gatorade and make your way out of the party. Nami and Vivi catch you on your way out. You tell them you were going to get some air. They ask if you want company, but you shake your head and stride out of the party into the night air. Not once do you look back to see if Law is following behind you, though you hear his footsteps once under the plywood of the porch. 

Luckily for you two, there was no one outside- at least anyone who would care to listen in on this conversation. You move to the ledge and wait for Law to join you. You soak in the ambiance around you as you take sips of water. It was pretty, the audio blend of the bass and drums from the party mixed in with the night sounds. There was a light breeze you let wash over you as you closed your eyes. Law clears his throat, but you remain as is. 

“Hey, you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” You were not fucking fine. You’re racking your brain for a strategy, or any indication of how he would play it. This was a shocking turn of events. The Law you accounted for would never draw you out of a party to talk, where several eyes could witness. You played with the cap of the bottles you placed on the ledge. 

“Is it too much to ask you to look at me?” 

“Yes.” Law sighs. You place your hand on your chin and glance at him. He takes his hat off and runs his fingers through his messy waves before pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks up and his grey orbs widen, shocked that yours are staring back at his. 

Fuck it, you thought. I’ll just do whatever I want tonight and pretend it never happened later. 

You bit the inside of your cheek as the silence pressed against the two of you. The tension was so palpable you could see the air currents moving between you. You wish you could grasp it and throw it across the street.

“Y/n….” He straightens up and leans against a support beam. 

You followed his movement with your eyes. “How many times are you going to say my name?” 

He chuckles and looks up from the brim of his hat in his hands directly to you. The sincerity in his eyes softens your heart. 

“I know what I’m about to say might be too late, but please. I need to tell you this.” His words made you straighten up and turn to face him, fingers awkwardly drumming at your sides. The both of you were clearly out of your element here. Law clears his throat and continues, his eyes never leaving yours. “I tried to push you away back then. I’m sorry. After that night when we almost-”

“You don’t have to say it”

He rubs his shoulder with this free hand. “Yeah, sorry. Listen y/n, it wasn’t your fault. I panicked. I don’t know. I knew then that I liked you way more than I felt I should have, and I didn’t want to. I don’t know why- maybe fear- I don’t know. I just,” he exhales. “I thought that if I let you any closer, it would devastate me if I lost you. I didn’t account for losing you when I was icing you out. I wasn’t thinking about how my actions would affect you, only about saving myself. Leaving without talking about it was a big mistake, and I knew it as soon as I got up. But I couldn’t let you in back then. I was…. terrified.” 

The heaviness of the indignation boiled and anviled inside your bosom. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides. Tears prickled at your eyes, but you refused to let any fall. You refuse to hide your pain either.

“Law, I-” you started, unconsciously stepping towards him. “ I don’t believe you. This doesn’t make sense to me.” He raised his arms slightly as if to grab you, but lowered them again as his face studied yours.

“I- I know.”

“No, you don’t know.” you took another step. “Why didn’t you tell me this when I told you how I felt that day? Or any moment after that? You-” Your fist was raised, and two tears fell down one side of your face. “How dare you come and tell me you let me go because you were terrified! You? I thought you didn’t care about me. I thought you discarded me because we didn’t-” You were holding back sobs at this point, and your fists weakly hit Law's shoulders with every sentence. “You made me- I- I felt.” 

He pulls you into his arms and you collapse—everything you held inside escapes you in the form of silent tears against his hoodie. The faint smell of his cologne and weed fills your nose. You were too overwhelmed by the release to be ashamed of yourself for crying in his arms like this. Law presses you tightly as he whispers a slew of apologies into your ear. You honestly don’t know if you believe him. Right now, it didn’t matter. 

Laws hold felt like a steady anchor in the new waters that was the vulnerability between the two of you. He presses his lips to your forehead and you pull away slightly to look up at him. He grimaces and pulls away a little more, using his hoodie to dab at your eyes. 

“Fuck, y/n. I-” He pauses. “I don’t want to keep apologizing. I know it doesn’t do much for you. But it’s tearing me apart inside that I made you feel like this. I fucked up.” You inhale sharply.

“Yeah,” you whisper. Law lifts your chin to his gaze. You could see that a few tears had escaped him as well. You lifted your hand to his jaw, which clenched slightly at your touch. 

“I missed you so much, y/n.” You sniffled as you looked at his lips, suddenly wanting to watch his mouth formulate every word. You were soaking in this new side of Law, not caring about its potential expiration date. You ran your thumb over the outer corner of his eye, wiping away the wetness that gathered there. 

The sound of police alarms pierced through the night and the tender moment. You jump away from each other as Lieutenant Garp slams his car door and walks up the porch. 

“Evening, L/n.” He looks to Law and furrows his brows a bit. “Trafalgar.” His eyes train back on you, a bit of surprise mixed in them.

“Uh-”

“I suggest the two of you get ahead of the crowd that’s about to disperse and call for your rides now. This party is over.”

“Uh, okay.” Garp walks away from the two of you and into the party of unsuspecting youth. You chuckle and shake your head, wishing you could be inside to witness the conversation Luffy and his grandfather would have. You’re sure Nami will tell you the next day. You turn back to Law, who had jumped back a respectable distance at the sight of Garp. His hat was already back on his head and he tapped at his phone screen awhile before looking at you”

“I’ll call you an Uber home.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Correction,” he interrupts. “I’ve already called you an Uber home. It’s ten minutes out.” Your body temperature went up five degrees. 

“Well, thanks.” He shrugs and looks off to the side, his jaw clenched again. Another five degrees. You pull at your dress and play with a pebble under your foot.

“Y/n,” Law starts, commanding your gaze back to his. “I know I don’t deserve it, but please, let me make it up to you. I want to try again. I want to do it right this time.” 

“Law…” He shook his head.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now. Text me when you get home safe. Goodnight.” He plants a quick peck on your forehead. Before you can respond, you hear Vivi call out your name from the doorway as the crew approaches you. When you look back in Law's direction you find his spot vacant. He disappeared in the growing crowd. You pull your phone out of your purse and two notifications stand out.

The first is the Uber details.

The other- is a text from Law’s Number. You deleted his contact in anger in August, but that combination of digits is burned into your memory. 

hey, it’s law.  sorry for stealing a kiss. couldnt help myself. brunch on me at Puddings tomorrow to make up for it. text me when you get home. please 

[agent-oo-z]

Alright gaymers time for more BG3 companion headcanons! This time featuring my beloved Atavia!

Potential spoilers below, you’ve been warned!

Still no Minthara, I failed to rescue her during Atavia’s run

Halsin

Ultimate nature nerd buddies. Atavia and Halsin love just going full autism mode and discussing the nuances of plant identification/creature behavior/etc for hours on end.

Once Atavia and Halsin become a “thing” they are almost annoyingly in love. Constant pet names, lots of physical contact, getting distracted by each other. Astarion teases them about it relentlessly, not out of jealousy though. He’s not immune to envy but he trusts his partners to be open and honest and does his best to do the same.

Halsin and Astarion are less stereotypically lovey dovey with each other but only because Astarion shows his love by being a menace. He teases and makes jokes and gets all sarcastic. Halsin usually responds with sincerity, not because he doesn’t get it but because he enjoys the challenge of getting Astarion flustered. It doesn’t take long for the pair to develop a sixth sense about what’s going too far.

Astarion

Turns out having two(eventually three!) people who are willing to dedicate themselves to you heart and soul can be overwhelming, even when you want it more than anything. Astarion develops a “non sexual safe word” for moments when he needs to be left alone/given space. He usually only needs a moment to recenter.

Astarion ends up working with the society of brilliance and the Gur to study vampirism and search for a cure. Some of the spawn in the underdark volunteer to help test theories and potential cures. This involves everything from finding out what types of fabric/materials can be used to prevent sunlight from damaging their skin to studying potential non blood food sources. Astarion mostly works with his partners to search for artifacts like sunwalker rings and magical/alchemical cures.

Astarion is good with kids. Once he has time to rest and begin healing from his two centuries of trauma he finds that children don’t annoy/upset him as much anymore. Yenna lives with Halsin at moonrise and is especially fond of him, the pair often play together when he’s visiting.

Gale

Quickest way to his heart is to compliment his cooking. And not just “wow this is good!” compliments. The type that shows you actually noticed things like the unique seasonings or the plating.

Because he doesn’t divulge much about his personal life to his students and fellow professors he accidentally ends up the center of a minor scandal. Astarion makes a surprise appearance on campus during a stormy day to deliver Gale’s lunch(which he left at home) and kisses him in front of his morning class. Atavia had done the same on multiple occasions but was out of town at the time, so the students thought Gale was having an affair. Eventually another professor confronted Gale when Atavia surprised him at work(she had gotten home from her trip early) and Tavi just burst out laughing while Gale desperately tried to explain the situation. The next day Astarion and Tavi deliver his lunch together to put the rumors to bed.

Gale develops a whole host of modified and new spells after becoming a professor. This includes spells that allow for the indefinite storage and preservation of food(including blood), spells that allow individuals with sunlight sensitivity to go outside for up to 4 hours at a time during the day, and enchantments that can be applied to collars and armor that allow animals to speak with people. He also publishes certain spells anonymously, not exactly out of embarrassment but because he’s uncertain how it might impact his career. Basically all of them are modified spells for sexual encounters.

Wyll

After deciding to break his pact with Mizora, Wyll procures the prosthetic eye Volo has. He continues to use the sending stone eye up until he and Karlach enter the hells after the death of the netherbrain. Given he is no longer working for the cambion he “swaps” eyes and tosses the sending stone eye as far as he can.

He waits to propose to Karlach until about a month after her engine is stabilized. They’d been dating for a while at that point, but he didn’t want her to feel like she had to agree because he had helped with her engine. He also wanted time to prepare a proper elaborate fancy proposal because she deserves it. She says yes before he can even finish asking, he’s not even fully on one knee before she practically throws herself at him in a massive embrace.

When Tavi complements his skills as a ranger at the reunion party he almost explodes with joy. She’s one of the best ranger he’s worked with(the other being THE Minsc) so it truly means a lot.

Karlach

One of the few people that Tavi isn’t romantically involved with who is allowed to be super physical with her. Tavi isn’t opposed to friendly hugs and the like, but doesn’t do well with extended touch from those she’s not with. Karlach is just such a giant cuddly teddy bear that somehow Tavi doesn’t mind. She doesn’t even fully understand it herself. If Halsin or Astarion weren’t wrapped around her at camp it was Karlach in their place.

Once she’s able to permanently return to the material plane, Karlach becomes a legendary hero in her own right. She often joins her former companions when they go out on grand quests.

Karlach is called “Auntie Karlach” by the various offspring of the Tavi-cule. She’s the favorite of all the companions when it comes to baby sitting(at least for the children.) She loves kids of all ages, but especially enjoys spending time with those between the approximate ages of 7 to 10.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel eventually introduces her companions to Xan, the hatchling rescued from the crèche in the ruined monastery. Xan is just as fascinated by the material plane as his adopted mother was, and is delighted to interact with Tavi’s familiars and companion animals.

After the defeat of Vlaakith Lae’zel and Xan move in with Shadowheart. It was originally supposed to be just until Lae’zel could find her own place but turns out Shadowheart and Lae’zel are in fact very much in love still. Xan now has two moms.

Tavi helps Lae’zel learn about the courting practices of the sword coast so she can make her intentions clear to Shadowheart(and not at all because Lae’zel doesn’t want to fight her because the idea of causing her harm is deeply distressing) Lae’zel and Shadowheart do end up romantically sparring eventually, but it’s far less intense than standard Gith fighting.

Shadowheart

Before Lae’zel moves in, Shadowheart is a bit of a hermit. She makes time to visit her companions but otherwise spends her days tending to her animals and her gardens in relative solitude.

During her first visit to Waterdeep she joins the Tavi-cule for dinner. She ends up staying over because of how late into the night the conversation goes. The next morning she learns about Gale’s Modified Silence spell when joking that based on how disheveled Tavi looks she’s surprised she didn’t hear them. She asks Gale to make her some scrolls to take home, and encourages him to consider publishing them under a pseudonym.

Shadowheart and Astarion love to gossip. During the absolute adventure they would sneak away and chat in elvish to avoid being heard, and post adventure they keep up a correspondence. When they get together in person they can spend hours talking about the latest gossip while enjoying some good wine and snacks.

Jaheira

When Atavia is pregnant with her first child, Jaheira visits to give her advice and guidance. Most of it consists of “here’s how to not kill a baby” and “here are safe ways to manage your symptoms during and after pregnancy”. She helps Atavia and her partners set up a nursery in Gale’s tower because Tavi is worried about it looking nice while still being safe. She serves as a sort of safety auditor. Jaheira is also the “god mother” of all of the Tavi-cule children. She accepts on the condition she is never called anything like “granny.”

Jaheira often joins Tavi and Astarion(and whoever else is with them) when they go out searching for artifacts. She’s with them when they get their hands on a real sunwalker ring, the first time they find evidence of a cure for vampirism, and when they finally get their hands on the last thing needed for said cure. They start to jokingly call her a good luck charm.

She continues to work with the Harpers on and off. Geraldus is one of the few Harpers she genuinely enjoys working with and the two become good friends over time.

Minsc

Minsc is eventually able to communicate half decent information about the vampire cures Boo supposedly knows of. It’s one of those cures in particular that the Tavi-cule is able to find evidence of and actually create. And it works! Astarion complains about being indebted to a hamster, but privately thanks Minsc and Boo. Tavi is beside herself with pride for managing to pull it off despite the language barrier.

Minsc will randomly appear on the doorsteps of the various party members with no warning. He usually only stays for a day and rarely spends the night, but he always comes with unbelievable tales of his most recents adventures. He always makes an effort to visit after any of the party members have major life events to offer his support/congratulations/etc.

Atavia keeps a stash of Boo’s favorite treats on her person at all times. You never know when you’ll run into Minsc and she never wants to be caught unprepared.

BONUS: The Creatures

Scratch

Scratch goes to live with Alfira and Larkissa after the death of the netherbrain. Atavia makes an effort to stop by and say hello whenever she’s visiting the gate.

Owlbear Cub

Once the owlbear cub moves to the grove Atavia makes sure to bring some fancy smoked meats when she and Astarion visit to spend time with Halsin. She loves to curl up and nap with him under the sun.

Us

Taking the form of a cat in the eyes of all but the former adventuring party and their loved ones, Us ends up living at Gale’s tower. Tara and Morena eventually allow it to join their tea parties. It doesn’t drink any tea of course.

[prince-liest]

inspired by a series of convos in the 3zun server and also my own recent camping trip:

please imagine mundane modern au nieyao going camping

meng yao is like twenty-three, freshly graduated from college after having to take a gap year to take care of his ailing mother. nie mingjue is in his thirties, and knows meng yao as the responsible young man who befriended his brother and is probably one of the driving forces preventing nie huaisang from having skipped too many classes to actually earn a degree. he's not technically meng yao's boss, but he works in the same organization and he thinks it's perfectly acceptable to mosey on over to meng yao's actual boss during the interview process and give them a stellar review of what he knows of meng yao's work ethic.

the fact that meng yao eventually (read: very rapidly) gets promoted to work at nie mingjue's right hand is... probably fine. it's not too strange. in fact, they're friends! good friends! good enough friends that when nie huaisang finally puts his foot down and downright refuses to go on the nie annual camping trip, citing that he is a "real" adult now (whatever that means) and that means he doesn't have to spend a week in the woods every year getting bitten by mosquitos and hunting down the nearest wifi connection if he doesn't want to, da-ge, maybe it'd be cute for taking photos if they just went for the weekend - well, then nie mingjue retorts that he doesn't see the point in driving all the way out to yosemite for a single weekend and invites meng yao instead.

meng yao, on the other hand, is thinking: hm. he is pretty sure he has seen this porno. a week out in the woods with his hot older boss who is also his best friend's big brother. you couldn't fit more tropes into it if you tried. maybe if there were debt collectors after him and nie mingjue was a mafia boss.

(there are no debt collectors. meng yao has made certain of it. he has been very financially responsible in the aftermath of his mother's passing.)

nie mingjue is a responsible hiker and at least somewhat aware that he's taking somebody with no experience on a camping trip, largely courtesy of nie huaisang. meng yao ends up dressed mostly in nie huaisang's unused hiking clothes, packing his things in nie huaisang's unused hiking backpack, and sleeping in nie huaisang's unused sleeping bag. he looks up the price of the socks that nie mingjue handed him and then decides not to look up any more for the sake of his emotional wellbeing.

they make it to yosemite. meng yao has looked up all the things to do in yosemite valley, but for some reason they end up driving way farther north through some winding mountain roads that make him wonder if the car is just going to... tip over the side and neither of them will ever be seen again. for some reason there's a random porta-potty around one of the bends that meng yao silently stares at as they pass. it takes several hours to arrive, but there's a surprising amount of gas left over in the car for how much time the trip took.

the camp grounds are a little...

"isn't this a little crowded?" meng yao asks. "why don't we go farther into the woods?"

nie mingjue looks at him like he's the strange one. this is how meng yao learns that you cannot camp just anywhere inside of a national park. apparently it's okay, because most people are respectful of the common spaces. also, there is no shower in this specific camp. nie mingjue brought wet wipes.

these are not the ideal circumstances for fucking in the woods, but meng yao is a trooper and he understands that sometimes reality is a little more complicated than not safe for work media.

it's fine. besides, they get there pretty early in the day, all-considered. and it's spring, so it's still cool enough to go hiking at midday. a waterfall sounds pretty romantic, he thinks, watching nie mingjue work some kind of eldritch magic with tent poles while taking mental notes so that he can prove himself competent should he ever need to set up a tent again in his life.

an hour and a half later, meng yao is soaked through with sweat and half-convinced that he's developed adult-onset asthma. nie mingjue is glistening attractively. for some reason the incline of the 'easy' hike to a nearby waterfall that they're on suddenly turned into a rock climbing challenge in the last quarter mile. the worst part about going down it is knowing that he will have to go back up on the way back. there aren't that many people around, but if nie mingjue is taking him here to fuck him, then meng yao is going to simply have to throw himself into the river rapids and drown. it would be a kinder form of death.

they get to the waterfall. it is spring, so the river is flowing so strongly with icemelt that it's too dangerous to truly swim. meng yao considers at least dipping in, but when he puts his feet in, the water is so cold that he decides that he likes having physical sensation above his ankles, thank you. nie mingjue smiles proudly at him and tells him that nie huaisang usually complains up a storm by this point and that he loves his brother but it's nice to be with a more appreciative partner. something in meng yao's chest squeezes a little bit.

it gets a little tighter when he realizes that he's finished all of his water and nie mingjue crouches down to show him how to use the iodine water tablets on the river water. they make the water taste strange, but meng yao is mostly distracted by the fact that nie mingjue's mouth was just on the lip of the water bottle that he's about to drink from.

he drinks, tilting his head back. his hands are shaky with exhaustion and some of the water spills. it's cool on his chin and throat and he doesn't bother brushing it away - he's so sweaty that it's probably impossible to discern what's sweat and what's water anyway. when he opens his eyes again, nie mingjue is watching him.

they hike back. by the time they arrive at camp, meng yao's legs have entirely turned into jelly and nie mingjue takes pity on him, sitting him down in a camping chair with a beer and going off to pick up dry wood ("why would I buy firewood when deadwood is free?"). he teaches meng yao how to start a campfire, stacking small twigs in increasingly larger sizes until there's enough kindling to set the big logs ablaze. meng yao finds himself shivering in the dark, pressed up against nie mingjue's side and leaning towards the flames. funny, how he thought he would never feel cooled down again just an hour ago. his face burns, and his back is only cold until nie mingjue offers him a blanket.

they absolutely do not fuck that night, nor any other night. but meng yao has fun: he hasn't felt so free to learn and mess up and explore since he was a kid, and the absolute newfound freedom that he experiences when he once asks if they could go look at something off a path and nie mingjue says yes - says, in fact, that the whole point of going off into the woods like this is being able to do and see whatever you want, as long as it's within legal boundaries - means meng yao basically forgets his initial plan entirely.

they nearly get lost on their next hike, missing a turn in the established path and only turning around when they reach what could best be described as a ravine. there are more waterfalls - meng yao didn't know there were this many waterfalls anywhere in the world. they move campgrounds a few times, too. apparently it's quite difficult to get seven straight days booked in a yosemite campground. meng yao sets up the tent the second time. some of the campgrounds have showers, wooden buildings with cool water and moths fluttering around the lights. the most delicious meal meng yao swears he's ever eaten is the cheese-filled sausages nie mingjue roasts over a campfire, combined with cup noodles that they cook using water from the same camping stove tea kettle they use for their tea in the mornings.

eventually, it is time to go home. meng yao hasn't washed his hair in two days and doesn't remember the last time he heard the ping of his phone demanding that he put out yet another fire at work. he'd been asked to keep his phone on and check his email when he can during his vacation, but most of the places they've been don't actually have service.

they drive back through the same mountains as before. the porta potty is still there. meng yao actually points out its strangeness this time, and nie mingjue laughs. meng yao smiles. he's been smiling a lot during this trip. he feels vaguely like a new person. it's fresh air and endorphins, nie mingjue says. good for the soul. meng yao is pretty sure it's nie witchcraft, too.

(or maybe it's endorphins. he certainly gets a hot flood of those when, dropping off meng yao at his doorstep, nie mingjue finally hesitates - and steps close, mumbling, "didn't wanna make you uncomfortable while you were trapped in the woods with me, but..." before kissing him. his hands are so big on meng yao's hips.)

(they do fuck that night. but not before meng yao drags both of them into his shower and scrubs himself from top to bottom. yosemite was great, but he has standards.)

[tealeafgrimm]

Wrongly Accused

Fred Weasley x Reader

Words: 1.1k

Summary: You didn't like him. And for a good reason. At least that's what you thought. But as it turns out, the reason for your quarrel is not his fault at all.

A/N: I am so sorry! I'm very stressed with my job at the moment and just can't find enough time to write. I really want to get back to my schedule, but for now I think I'll just post whenever I can. So please bear with me. I hope you still enjoy this one-shot.

---

That was just your luck. Of all people, you had to work with HIM. Of all the people in the class, he was the one. You didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or cry. If you hadn't been completely wrong, you could have sworn that Professor McGonagall had even smiled slightly when she had read out your names. The old witch knew exactly what she had done. You were sure of that.

While the whole school (apart from maybe the Slytherins) loved the Weasley twins, you were at war with them. Well, actually, only with Fred Weasley. Since your first year at Hogwarts, you couldn't stand each other and you always clashed. And he was the one you were supposed to be with, preparing your transformation project? You would have been better off with Moaning Myrtle. You'd have been able to stand her better than Fred Weasley's face.

And Fred, too, was thunderstruck at the mention of your name as his project partner. While his twin brother laughed, Fred gave you a scathing look, which you were only too happy to return.

"Now that the groups have been divided, please get together to discuss the next steps. Remember, the grade of the project is one third of the final mark. Therefore, I advise you to make an effort. Transformation classes will be cancelled for the next three weeks so that you can use the time to complete your project. If you have any questions or problems, please see me in my office hours," Professor McGonagall announced, before gesturing for you to get together in your respective partner groups.

Neither Fred nor you moved. Only when Angelina Johnson hinted to Fred that she needed his space to work with George did he reluctantly stand up. Inwardly you grinned that he had to make the first move. Your pride wouldn't have allowed it. With an expression on his face as if he had been told he was to spend the next three weeks alone with Professor Snape, he dropped into the chair beside you without saying a word.

There was an unsettling silence between you before you decided to say something.

"Okay, listen Weasley. I know you don't care about your grade. But I do. And I'm not going to let your incompetence get me a bad grade at the end of the semester, understand? So, if you still want to enjoy your life, I suggest you follow my rules and at least use your remaining brain cells on this project."

"And why should I do that?" asked Fred, annoyed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Because you don't want to know what happens if you don't. I'll meet you in that empty classroom on the third floor during normal hours, understand?"

"Like I'm scared of you," he laughed maliciously, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I never said anything about being scared. But I happen to know all those secret passages you always use. And it really would be a shame if the teachers knew about them, wouldn't it. And I also know that the little 'accident' the Slytherins had last week wasn't Peeves' fault. Maybe I should clear that up sometime too," you hissed at him. With satisfaction, you could see the colour drain from Fred's face.

“You wouldn’t”, Fred hissed. “Try me and find out”, you shrugged your shoulders, clearing your desk, ready to leave the classroom. “Don’t be late Weasley.”

~~~

You didn't know how you had survived the next few days without being at each other's throats. But with each day your emotions bubbled more and more.

After barely a week, you finally had enough.

"Say that again and I swear to you Weasley, you'll wish you'd never been born!"

"Sitting here with you makes me wish that all the time!"

"You're such an ignorant idiot do you know that? Life is not just a joke!" Your voice was getting louder and louder and you could hear the vein at your temple throbbing.

"And you're obnoxious! Do you even have friends at this school? I don't think anyone likes you anyway!"

"I have friends! Imagine being friends with people without constantly doing something at someone else's expense!"

"You're one to talk! You're always up in my business!"

"Well, YOU deserve it! After all, you started it!"

For a few seconds Fred looked at you in amazement before exploding.

"I started it? You're just way too sensitive. How vindictive are you? Just because I threw food at you once when I wanted to hit Lee?!"

Now you were speechless. Perplexed, you looked at Fred.

"What are you talking about?" Your voice took on a normal pitch.

"Well, the first year Halloween feast? George and I wanted to start a food fight. I wanted to throw mashed potatoes at Lee, you leaned forward over the table and I hit you right in the face?"

You remembered the situation that you hadn't thought about it in ages and began to laug out loud.

"I haven't thought about that at all!", you snorted as Fred looked at you open-mouthed.

"I don't understand. I thought that was the reason we were fighting?", he finally asks as you wiped away a tear from the corner of your eye.

"What, I wouldn't have been mad about that! I'm all about that Potions lesson where you deliberately threw that stinky tincture at me that made me come out with pustules all over my face!"

Now it was Fred who started laughing.

"Oh, you think that's funny huh?" you asked angrily. You had spent hours in the hospital wing before Madame Pomfrey could make the painful pustules disappear.

"That wasn't me! That was George!", Fred finally replied, trying to suppress another laugh.

"That wasn't you at all? It's still not funny!

"I'm sorry, you're right. I just can't believe that all this time we thought the origin of everything was two completely different things. And in the end, I wasn't even involved. And just so you know, George felt awful afterwards, he just thought your hair was changing colour. He wanted to apologise but he didn't know what to say."

For a while you sat next to each other without saying anything. Finally Fred held out his hand to you. Wonderingly you looked at him.

"Well, I guess now that we know that I never actually did anything to you, we can bury the war hatchet, can't we?" he asked and winked at you.

"Hmm, I don't know, depends a bit on how the mark turns out for our project," you replied, smiling at him before returning his handshake.

"I still think you're taking the whole grade thing too seriously. Maybe we should just..." But before he could finish his sentence, you raised your hand to silence him.

"Don't finish that sentence Weasley. You may not have done anything then, but that doesn't mean I can't change my mind. So get to work and you're not dismissed until we finish the assignments."

[splendsay]

IT'S WIP WEDNESDAY!!!!

You already know lol

Callsign: Sunshine

!!MDNI!! Pairings: TF 141 x F!Reader CWs: Explicit language, canon-typical violence, torture, implied/referenced rape Chapters: 24/? Publishing Frequency: 4+ chapters per week Tropes/themes: Found family, slow burn, mutual pining, reverse harem

.......................................................

You wake to the smell of smoke again. Thick and fetid. 

You bring your wrist to your line of sight and squint. The uranium in your watch glows dimly, but it's just bright enough to see. Ah. It's Wednesday. Immolation Day.       The sun is still hiding beneath the horizon -- the sky outside your window a deep, unforgiving black. You sigh, half-tempted to draw the covers up over your face and go back to sleep, but your stomach lets out a yowl of protest. If it's Wednesday, it's been -- 1, 2...4 days since you've last eaten anything. A growl of frustration escapes you. Despite all your efforts to do otherwise, you'd quickly powered through your stockpile of rations after the city was sacked by rebels three months back. Your last meal of any substance had been the greasy bone meat of roasted street rat and a bouillon cube. Food -- real food -- was a rarity in Southern California these days.       That's why they burn the bodies. 

You sit upright in your makeshift bed -- a thin pile of newspapers, truth be told, and take in the dark, colorless space around you. You'd run out of candles ages ago. They pepper the room, melted to useless nubs. You lean over, fumbling in the dark for your cell phone -- your last remaining luxury, when this building had enough power to charge it. To your surprise and temporary delight, you have a charge -- 38%. Not much, but still. Without internet, you could make it last a few days. You frown, though, glancing at the screen again. You missed a call.  

  "The fuck," you mutter. You tap the phone icon and it pulls up your call log. A number you don't recognize called you just over an hour ago -- 11 pm. You know the area code, though. +44 was the U.K. Or, it used to be. You don't know much about the state of the world beyond Temecula, but you know it can't be much better or worse than this. From what little you could gather from the gibberish they published in the papers you stole from the one corner store still in operation -- some sort of third World War was waging between Russia and a country whose name you didn't recognize. It'd been years since you'd taken a history class. Any class, really. And it was hard to care about any far off land when this one had gone to such shit.     The fact that the call had connected surprises you. You stand and walk to the shoddy cell tower repeater perched precariously on the sill of your window. "Huh," you muse aloud. Its little green light blinks up at you happily. You bring the phone in front of you again, frowning down at it. What the hell. You tap the mystery number and hold the phone to your ear. It connects instantly -- but it doesn't ring.       "Laswell," a woman's voice barks from the other end of the line. You almost drop your phone, you're so startled. You recover -- barely -- and bring the phone back to your ear. 

"Hello? Hello?"

"Hi, yes, um...this number called mine an hour ago. I'm...calling you back." Your lips pull back from your teeth in a visceral cringe. Idiot.      "Sunshine," the woman says, matter-of-fact.       Your heart drops into your stomach.       "I...how did you...?"      "It doesn't matter. The United States military requests your support. Yours, specifically, Sergeant."      You bristle at her tone. "I was discharged."      The woman sighs. "Again, it doesn't matter."      Your stomach growls again. You look down at it, mind churning. "Fine. "I'm listening."

.......................................................

OH OH ALSO I started working on the Azriel x F!Reader fic -- it's going to be heavy handed with a lot of original world-building, so you'll have to be patient avec moi, but I did title it: Shade Cerulean

I'm hoping to have the first chapter published this weekend! :))

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Jake's Destiny: Crossing the Line

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader, stripper!reader

Summary: Jake was your best client until you told him he couldn't ask for you anymore. However, that doesn't stop him from coming back for you. Will you continue to brush him off or will you find the courage to admit the real reason you need to cut ties?

Word Count: 2349

TW: Love Confession, Fluff, Kissing, Light Grinding, Jake picks Reader up

Note: Thank you to @onebigfangirlworld for sending the made-up title request that sparked this idea (I didn't stick with the title but it is a line in the fic!). And thank you to @lorecraft for beta reading for me! 🥰 You are the best!

Series Masterlist (but can be read as a one-shot)

You adjusted your bustier and your makeup one last time and slipped out of the dressing room. But as you began to head towards the bar, Charity grabbed your arm. "Oh, you have someone waiting for you in room number three."

You groaned. "Already? I've literally been on the floor for less than a minute."

She shrugged. "I don't know. Karma told me to tell you.”

You thanked Charity and headed to the private rooms in the back. While you much preferred working the floor or behind the bar, if you were going to get requested to one of the back rooms, it was better that it happened at the start of your shift before you got aggravated by the night's clientele. Though the patrons of The Hard Deck Gentleman’s Club were all still a class above those you had dealt with at your last job, you still got the occasional jackass who thought because he slapped down a stack of cash, you had to give him whatever he wanted. And it was hard enough plastering on a fake smile when you were in a decent mood but it was agony when the night had already drained you.

However, you began to reconsider your previous view of the situation when you opened the door and saw who was waiting for you. 

Dropping all pretense of coyness or niceties, you rolled your eyes as you let the door slam behind you. "What the hell are you doing here? Or better question, what the hell am I doing here? Karma was supposed to get you, not me."

"Yeah, well, I might have paid Karma a little extra to switch places with you for the night." 

As usual, Jake Seresin gave you a cocky grin as he settled back onto the couch with his whiskey in hand and a toothpick jutting from between his lips. He looked pristine as always in his perfectly tailored suit which probably cost more than your car and his hair was styled in that way where it looked slightly messy but you could tell took hours to perfect. He had opened the top of his crisp white shirt so you could see a glint of the gold chain he always wore and the first glimpses of chest hair poking out. He could have just walked off the set of a high-end photoshoot, and knowing Jake, he might have. 

Though he was the only other person in the room, he took up half the space with the way he was sitting: his arms draped all the way across the back of the couch while he sat with his legs spread open wide. He patted his left knee, indicating he wanted you to sit, but you remained where you were with your arms crossed over your chest.

You thought you had made it very clear last time he was here that he couldn’t ask for you anymore. There were plenty of other girls on shift who could give him whatever he needed. In fact, there wasn’t another girl here who wouldn’t be jumping at the chance to do so. 

Jake was a unicorn in a place like this. He had more money than God, yet treated all the girls with respect and dignity. Sure, he was a little arrogant and egotistical, but he was also considerate, and a surprisingly good listener. Plus, it didn’t hurt he was supermodel gorgeous. 

The first night he came in, he said he didn’t have a preference when it came to which girl joined him in the private room. You were the next one on the schedule so you had taken care of him. Though you had expected him to want as much of you as you would allow, that night he only wanted to talk while you straddled his thigh and lazily ground against it. You left an hour later with the biggest tip you had ever seen and Jake’s request to management that you would be his regular dancer from now on. Since then, he had come in a minimum of once a week and while your interactions did become more physical over time, he never ever tried to cross a line or go further than you allowed.

Which was why everyone else thought you were insane when you told them you would no longer be taking care of him when he came in. However, no one argued with your decision since it meant he was up for grabs. Knowing Jake’s tastes, you figured Karma would be the best one to take your place and had told him as such. Yet here he was waiting for you once again. 

"Jake, I told you, I’m done. I have other clients and other responsibilities here. I'm not your personal plaything who can drop everything just because you want me to."

He flicked his toothpick to the floor and calmly took a sip from his glass. "Well, why not? I pay you more for an hour of your time than you could make an entire night with those other 'clients'. And you know you enjoy it just as much as I do, so what’s the big deal?"

Stamping your foot, you cried, "The big deal is that I don't belong to you! Or to anyone! And if I say no, I mean it! So, I can either send Karma back in here or you can leave.”

You turned to go but Jake jumped to his feet, leaped over the glass table in front of the couch, and slammed his hand against the door blocking your exit. You didn’t turn your head, but your eyes flickered up to his face. “Let me go, Jake.”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t get to say that and then just walk away. Fine, I can be blunt and upfront about what I want, but I would never try to force anyone into anything they didn’t want. And that includes bribing or coercing them with money. You know me. You know I’m not like that. I just…. I had to come back. I just want to understand what I did. Why seemingly overnight you started hating me. I don’t get it.”

The desperation in his voice makes your resolve crumble. You had never seen Jake beg like this. He was always so confident and self-assured when he came to see you that you never imagined anything being able to rattle him. But apparently, you could.

Nodding softly, you said, “You’re right. I know you’d never do that. I’m sorry if that’s what it sounded like I meant. This isn’t about you or anything you did. I just can’t keep seeing you, Jake. I’m sorry.”

You tried to open the door again, but he kept his hand firmly in place. “Why? Des, talk to me! What is really going on?”

You knew if you wanted to, you could get him to let you leave. Jake wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t force anyone into anything they didn’t want, but he also knew you well enough at this point to tell the difference between a request and a demand. And so far, your mentions of leaving have just been a request. 

Maybe that was because deep down you did want him to know the truth. Maybe you wanted to see how he would react to it. Or maybe you just couldn’t bring yourself to cut Jake Seresin out of your life as you planned. 

Whatever the reason, you took a deep breath. Dropping your hand from the door handle, you wrapped your arms around yourself and turned your back to Jake as you walked towards the corner of the room. “To do this job, I have to set boundaries. And it’s gotten to the point where we’ve crossed my most important one. So I have to end this. I’m sorry.”

You heard Jake take a few steps closer to you, but he made no move to crowd or touch you in any way. “I can respect that, but what boundary did we cross? Maybe I can fix it, go back to before we crossed that line, and it can just be how it was before.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that simple, Jake. I can’t…. I can’t go back. You don’t know how badly I wish I could but I–” you squeezed your eyes closed tightly as you gathered the strength to say the next words “–I have to cut contact with a client if I develop feelings for them.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Your words hung in the air, filling the room with a weighty tension as you waited for Jake to react. For him to laugh at you. For him to slip out of the room. For him to embarrassingly try to reassure you it was okay but he could never have feelings for someone like you. You waited with bated breath for that hammer to drop and shatter your heart into pieces. 

But it never came. Instead, you felt a pair of strong arms encircle you from behind as Jake’s head rested against yours, his nose nuzzling against the place just above your ear. 

Squeezing you tightly against his broad chest, he purred, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

You turned in his arms so you were staring up at his face just inches from yours, not daring to believe the unspoken meaning behind his words. “Wh-what?”

“Des, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the moment you first walked through that door and smiled at me.” He brushed his hand across your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing circles over your cheekbone. “Why do you think I spend thousands of dollars a week just to see you? You told me the first night I came in here that you didn’t date clients. That our time in this room was all we would ever have. So, I figured if this was the only way I could be with you, I would take it.”

“Jake, I–”

“No. I know what you’re gonna say and I don’t want you to.” He pressed his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses brushing up against each other as he closed his eyes. “Let me hold onto this feeling for just a little bit longer. Let me pretend this could last.”

You leaned into him as you whispered, “I don’t understand. You could have any girl that you want.”

“Good. Because I want you.”

“You don’t even know my real name.”

His eyes opened and you were left staring into two sparkling green pools that made you weak in the knees. “I’m okay with that. Besides, I think Destiny is pretty damn perfect as it is.”

You laughed, the sound wet and bordering on a sob. This couldn’t be happening. Jake couldn’t feel the same way about you that you did about him. Not this millionaire Adonis who made you feel more respected than any man ever had– in or out of the club. This was the sort of fantasy you only saw in fairytales or romcoms, not real life. The rich, handsome bachelor didn’t fall for the stripper. That’s not how the world worked. 

And yet….

As his hand intertwined with yours and he gave it a tight squeeze, you made up your mind. Taking a deep breath, you muttered, “In for a penny….” and broke your second most important boundary— you pressed your lips against his.

Instantly, he surged forward as if you had broken down some invisible barrier that had been holding him back. His free hand cupped the back of your neck so he could tilt your head for a better angle, all the while his other hand remained firmly linked with yours. You melted into him, parting your lips to allow his tongue to slip between your lips. He tasted like mint and whiskey and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Finally releasing your hand, Jake slid his arm under your ass and lifted you up, your legs immediately encircling his waist. Without breaking your kiss, he carried you over to the couch– almost tripping on the coffee table –and sat down. You pulled yourself closer to him, your legs still wrapped tightly around him. Your core was pressed against him and as you rolled your hips, you felt him twitch in his pants. Smiling against his lips, you repeated the action several times and felt him hardening against you.

With a groan, Jake finally pulled his lips from yours. He was panting softly as he gazed at you with lust-filled eyes, but he said, “We don’t have to do this. Or anything. Don’t get me wrong, you have no idea how much I want to, but I need you to know this isn’t why I like you. Like you said, any girl in here could give me this. But only you can give me the amazing woman I’ve fallen for.”

You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and you whispered, “Oh, shut up” before recapturing his lips.

While you kissed, your hands fumbled blindly with his belt but you eventually managed to get it open. However, as you started to slip your hands into the waistband of his slacks, he pulled back again and gently grabbed your wrists. “I thought you said in here we weren’t allowed to—”

“Screw it. I’m taking my break.” 

You giggled softly as his eyes grew wide and you slipped your hands from his grasp as you eased yourself back onto the floor. Kneeling in front of the couch, you spread his knees farther and slid in between them. As you reached for his zipper with one hand, your other quickly unhooked your bustier and threw it over the camera in the corner of the room. You knew you would probably get yelled at for that later, but right now you didn’t care. What you were about to do to Jake was not business but pleasure. And damn, was it going to be pleasurable. 

Please let me know if there is anything specific you would like to see with these two or if you would like to be added to the series tag list! 💕

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @green-socks, @nerdysuperchick, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever, @wildbornsiren, @hederasgarden, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @writercole, @onebigfangirlworld, @wkndwlff, @ravenmoore14, @clancycucumber230

[onetruesirius]

I sit here and I watch the news about Gaza

and I think

shit, I need to get back to work;

it's toxic to just fixate on the news,

It's bad for my mental health.

I can't be irresponsible to myself

I have class in the morning.

I have exams next week...

But how can I turn a blind eye?

How can I not care

that nine thousand Gazan children are dead,

that the Israeli Occupation Force has dropped the equivalent of an atomic bomb

on a space about the size of the New York City metropolis,

that an episcopal church was bombed—

it was one of the oldest churches in the world,

that one of the oldest mosques in the region was destroyed

that hospitals are being shelled with doctors and patients still within,

that men are carrying pieces of their dead children out of houses in plastic grocery bags because there's no other way to carry that many pieces in their hands,

that over a million people were told to evacuate on bombed-out roads,

and then they were shot and bombed with USAmerican white phosphorus when trying to leave?

Do you know what white phosphorus does to a human body?????

Please google it.

And if you "don't want to see something like that"

Oh,

I want you to google it even more now.

just to be appropriately horrified.

How can I not see that the Israeli government doesn't see Palestinian people [THEIR people if we're going by statehood metrics, who were on that land when the BRITISH GOVERNMENT decided to make the state] as human beings,

that they'd do anything to slaughter Palestinians under the cover of radio silence so the world turns away?

And that men wail from minarets—

not to call their flock to holy prayer but

to speak messages of hope that god will save them,

to attempt to reach the outside world, when the information reaches the people at the edge of the strip, who have international SIM cards and can get the word out,

and to deliver news of where the bombs fall so that paramedics can know where to dig more bodies out—the bodies that aren't a bloody slurry sprayed across the streets and walls, anyways.

And that journalists are being executed en masse to hide the story.

And that men are being stripped naken and forced to sit on the ground for hours at a time, just like in Nazi Germany.

And I can't forget the fact that the United States, MY NATION, voted AGAINST a UN call for a ceasefire...

TWICE.

And that construction companies are already tearing down the old apartments to make room for new living arrangements for the colonisers, before the old buildings even stop burning.

And that settlers are coming into these abandoned homes and looting food and jewelry and desecrating prayer rugs.

And it isn't the fault of Jewish people.

I know that.

Jewish people deserve a place to be safe and free, wherever they are...

But this fact likewise does not require the creation of an ethnostate.

The implication that the only way for Jewish people to be safe is to kill everyone else... is it not in itself antisemitic?

I'm scared for the Palestinian people, and also for my Jewish diaspora friends.

They hate what's going on just as much as I do,

but they're going to get blamed by well-meaning Palestine supporters.

I know they will.

They know they will.

We all know that they will.

Another wave of antisemitism.

Another wave of islamophobia.

Another wave of killings.

Another wave of ethnic cleansing.

On it goes.

A little boy was already killed by his mother's racist landlord in Chicago. Stabbed 26 times.

Three college students were attacked and one was maimed for life.

Attacks against synagogues here in the US have only increased. Two people were shot, allegedly for a Free Palestine...

But we all know that the neonazis have been using this mess to stir the pot against Jewish people and boost their recruitment.

The Palestinian 2023/24 school year has been officially canceled going forward.

Because the enrolled students are dead or missing.

Because they were bombed with American ground-to-ground missiles.

We all know the missiles are American in origin.

Russia has its own genocide to attend to, and China doesn't care enough to give arms to anyone. And we know it's American White Phosphorus.

All the while, war profiteers in my nation get richer and richer,

richer and richer and richer,

and richer and richer and richer and richer and richer and richer—

and they'll laugh like the evil FUCKING pricks that they are

when Gaza gets bombed,

and they'll laugh like the evil FUCKING pricks that they are

when Jewish people get attacked in the streets,

because every act of violence

and every sentiment of hated

fills their pockets with more and more and more US-AMERICAN DOLLARS and GUNS and BOMBINGS and SHOOTINGS and HATRED and GOD BLESS AMERICA—

or something like that

.

.

.

I've signed petitions.

I've signed so many I've lost track of the ones I've signed and the ones I haven't, the ones for other countries that I can repost but can't sign or they might get tossed out.

I've donated money to relief organizations for when the borders re-open, because I'm an optimistic bastard like that.

I've sent emails.

I've sent... so many emails.

I've called all my Representatives in Congress.

I've spread news to as many of my friends as I can without them blocking me.

And still Gaza burns.

And still children are slaughtered, even during the fake ceasefire.

And still I have exams next week.

And still I think about how I really shouldn't fixate on this, because it affects my mood.

and it's been impacting my performance at school.

and it's been undoing months of work I've done with my therapist to try and disconnect from current events.

And still I think about how

"the current events"

rain down like hellfire on innocent mothers of dead children,

and children of dead mothers,

and sisters of dead brothers,

and brothers of dead sisters,

and fathers of dead babies,

and babies of dead fathers,

and teachers of dead students,

and students of dead teachers,

and churches and pastors,

and mosques and imams,

and hospitals and doctors,

and synagogues and rabbis,

and the fucking relief trucks that were filled with food and water.

And here I sit, and I don't know what to do about it????

And I wonder if this is all the point?

To make things worse and worse and worse and worse so that people are so unbearably exhausted from just trying to do the right thing

that they can't take care of themselves?

That they can't achieve upwards mobility?

That they can't make any difference at all for the things that matter most to them?

but I'm just one monkey...

one monkey can't solve systemic problems

that are baked into the roots of our society.

It's a first world problem, for sure. I have the privilege to be able to unplug from this and rest in my bed and not get bombed.

But I just want to make things better, for everyone...

I know that I can't do that.

But I wish I could

Oh, god—

I wish I could.

But I guess I'll just go to sleep.

After all

I have class in the morning.