#there’s probably not a tag for that one but since I DO have a tag for TMOM and BOI is the title

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

When you point out how neurodiversity affects whole areas of the brain, not just what we see as the presentation symptoms, it seems so obvious. I've known that many neurodivergent conditions have high rate of co-morbidities, but haven't thought about what that would mean. I really liked your explanation of what else dyslexia affects, it made me recategorise some of my sister's mom behaviours. I see time blindness, some executive dysfunction, organisation difficulties and go, yup, I've got that too, it's normal, and forget that most people don't struggle with that (I've suspected I have undiagnosed ADHD for years, but never got checked for it, since I suggested it my dad freaked out, insisting there was nothing wrong with me. I really should though)

May I ask how your synaesthesia manifests for you? I'm always curious about how neurodiversity manifests in people and how it affects them, because there are so many minor and major things not talked about. I apologise if that question makes you uncomfortable, you don't have yo answer it.

Anyway, thank you for your explanation! It made a lot of things click all at once for me.

If you want lots of examples of how my synaesthesia works, I have a tag you could trawl here. But, I have a few different types; the common numbers-have-colours one, but I also get textures and sensations and feelings, and about... literally everything. Numbers, words, people's voices, names, personalities, the plots of media, images, everything.

Soooo, yeah. Sensory overload is the big impact; trial and error over the years has shown me it's primarily auditory, so if I can wear earplugs I can cope for longer in 'busy' environments. The other thing is that it really does a number on my mathematical ability, though, because, I shit you not, the colours get in the way. When I was a small child I was shown that 3 + 5 = 8, and my brain went "Yes, orange + pink = brown, got it" and ever since then if I see a 3 and a 5 together in a sum it DOES NOT MATTER what the operator is, I immediately assume the answer is 8. 3 plus 5? 8. 3 minus 5? Also 8. 3 times 5? Buddy you'll never guess. But it's 8.

It takes conscious effort not to do this T_T

The other thing is that I really, REALLY suffer from this thing where someone goes "Hey, we should watch Program X" but the problem is, you see, the problem is, I cannot stand the sensation I get from the name Program X, and therefore I will not watch it out of disgust that is totally unrelated to the actual show. This applies to all media, places, human beings, etc. (It is obviously a thing I have to be careful of when it's human beings.)

I think everything else I have is ADHD-related though, so that's probably everything I can put down to the synaesthesia.

[ghostsangel]

Could I request being friends with Ghost (who's desperately in love with you) and admitting to him one night that you don't think anyone would ever love you? If reader is plus size that would be amazing! Thank you 😊

oh my god this is adorable!!! sorry if this is too short or it sucks. totally felt like writer’s block.

simon “ghost” riley x fem!plus-size reader

tags/warnings: a lil internalized fatphobia, smitten ghost, this is legit fluff bro, a bit of angst if you squint

You’re so tired of being alone.

It sounds stupid, but you’ve never had a boyfriend. Never been kissed or had sex or even held hands with a guy. A big part of you feels like it’s because you’ve got a bit more meat on your bones—apron belly, saggy boobs, thick thighs. How would you expect anyone to love those parts of yourself when you barely do yourself?

“You alright?” Simon’s voice tugs you out of your thoughts.

You blink and look at him, forcing your lips to tug up into a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinkin’.”

“About?” He takes a sip of his beer, leaning back against your couch.

You’ve been friends with Simon for a couple of years. You met through mutual acquaintances, and found he’s really fun to hang out with. Caring, a bit goofy when he’s drunk, protective. In truth, you’ve developed a bit of a crush on him. But, surely, someone who looks like Simon….yeah, you’re out of his league.

You shrug, crossing your arms in front of your belly and leaning back on the couch. “Things.”

Simon raises his brows. “Things,” he repeats. “Come on, tell me. We’ve been friends for a long time, doll.”

His eyes pierce through you, and you can’t help the heat that rises to your face. Averting your gaze, you rub your thighs together, shaking your head. “It’s stupid.”

Simon grunts and sets his beer down, moving to sit next to you on the couch. He turns your head to face him, fingers on your chin. A prickly subject for you—your double chin makes you so self-conscious, you could cry.

“C’mon, nothin’ you say could be stupid,” he reassures you, releasing your chin.

You’re silent for a moment before you sigh. “Just thinkin’ about me. And how I’ve never been loved, and probably never will be.”

Simon blinks at you, brows drawing together. “And why do you think that?”

You look at him incredulously, your hands gesturing to your body. “Because I look like…this. I’m fat. And guys don’t—”

“Shut it,” Simon says, tilting your head up by your chin. There’s a look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. “You’re bloody beautiful, doll. Your body makes men like me weak, and it drives me crazy.” He leans in, and your breath hitches in your throat. “Ever since I met you, you’re all I fuckin’ think about. Think I’ve loved you since that first day.”

Your heart stops, and your brain scrambles as you try to reply. “I—what? You…what?”

Simon laughs softly, his fingers moving to cup your cheek. “You don’t have to worry about anyone not loving you, sweetheart. I already do. Been crazy about you since we met.”

“Really?” You breathe out, meeting his eyes. “You’re not just lyin’ to me or makin’ fun of me or—”

Simon shuts you up with a kiss, his lips pressing against yours slowly. You kiss him back, clumsily, not sure what to do. You just follow his lead, letting him take control. The kiss causes heat to run down your spine and you pull back after a moment.

“I’ve never…” You trail off, meeting his eyes.

“I know. Don’t worry, love. I’ll be all your firsts if you let me.”

[veltana]

Breaking point

✦ Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~2,5k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).

✦ Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.

✦ Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome 💚

Masterlist | AO3

"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.

Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesn’t like that, at all.

Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.

Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.

"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.

Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,” you shrug. “Honestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too… bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"

Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."

Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"

The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.

"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.

"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."

Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"

With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.

The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."

His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.

"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.

The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.

"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.

The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.

"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.

"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.

"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.

If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, you’re barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.

Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.

"Fucking shaved for him too,” he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.

"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.

For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.

"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.

"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"

The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don't…" is all that comes out.

"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."

"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"

With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.

As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.

"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.

A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.

He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.

Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, Bucky…" you gnaw your lip.

"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.

Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.

He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.

When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't… I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.

In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.

"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.

The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but you’re too spent to do more than shudder.

Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.

"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."

There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't take it anymore… I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."

He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as you’ll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"

Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.

With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that you’re already claimed."

With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.

Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.

Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.

[caitlinsgirl]

Thank you for this

summary: the narrator and caitlin are childhood friends. the narrator enjoys staying out of the public eye while supporting her favorite girl. set after their tough playoff game against the connecticut sun.

word count: 1.73k

tags: fluff, comfort, c*nner mention

author's note: thank you guys so much on the love for the last one! i'll get to the requests in my inbox, i just got in my feels after seeing caitlin's black eye after today's game. also tumblr kept fucking up and i had to re-do the upload for this likeeee 3 or 4 times so any mistakes i apologize. i hope u enjoy.

It feels bittersweet when you think about the time together. You no longer feels shaken up by the concept of time passing by anymore. You stopped panicking over the fact that you and the people around you are getting older. After all, getting older is a privilege, and you thank God everyday for letting you watch your girl become the woman that she is today. But today, today feels like a punch in my gut. You cannot think of anything, nothing except the passion that Caitlin has felt since you were little girls. You remember how she would beg you to join a team for more time to be with her.

“Any team!” the multi-sport prodigy would proclaim. “It doesn't matter if you'd suck, we'd have fun.” Of course I knew it would matter, though. For all you know, she could have probably stopped being your friend over how bad you would have been. Despite not being a member of her teams, you went to every game your best friend played in. Even if you felt sick, you was there, cheering her name louder than anyone in the stands, except maybe her family of course. You watched her through every high and low that made her the athlete she is today.

But nothing could have prepared you for today. The first playoff game for the Indiana Fever is over, and the players are making their way off the court. From your seat, you can see the way your best friend's eyes are glued to the ground as she followers her team to the locker room that's reserved for the Connecticut Sun's opposing team. If you were honest, you could not care less about the result of the game, or whether or not your favorite WNBA team advances in the playoffs. The only thing that matters is her, and the chance to make her feel better after this tragic loss.

Hey

Your phone lit up and chimed with her message just as you stepped out of the shower in your Connecticut hotel room. Butterflies immediately swirled in your stomach. What could be the right thing to say? What on Earth could I possibly say or do to make this horrid day into a good one for her? Making it better is not enough for you. You wish to see her on top of the world, sunshine or rain, win or lose. To the world, she is just an athlete, but to you, she's your person. An angel who deserves to have a smile on her face.

Teams going out to eat but im too tired to go with

Can I hang out with u at ur hotel room? theyre gonna talk about the game and I’ve had enough basketball for today

Of course u can

You rush to dry yourself off and get dressed. You quickly make your way downstairs to buy her favorite snacks at the lobby concession stand. Anything you can do, anything she wants, and more.

You had booked a hotel room within walking distance of the Indiana Fever's team. Having a room within the same establishment would have been too strange. This is Caitlin's job, after all, and you're just her friend. Maybe it would have been appropriate for her boyfriend to book a room, but not you. At least it felt that way.

You nervously paced back and forth in your room as you waited for her to show up. You arranged all the fun snacks you picked up in an adorable display on the 2nd queen bed of the room, the one you were not sleeping on. A bag of unpopped popcorn was waiting for Caitlin's entrance in the microwave. Two cups of ice were in the fridge, so they would not melt so fast. The hotel had all kinds of movies available on the TV, and you were about to queue up High School Musical, but then you remembered that movie is partly about basketball. Okay, Cinderella it is. Your favorite Disney princess movie has become her favorite too, from all the times you forced her to rewatch it with you.

A gentle knock on the door made you jump a little bit. You quickly made your way and paused for a second. You took a deep breath, and opened the door to see her. Her hands were in her sweatpants pockets and her shoulders were slightly slumped forward. Her black eye became darker as the night went on. The sight of it made your heart ache. You had the desire to take her into your arms and tell her how much she means to you. Your hands burned with desire, but you just smiled.

“Hey girl,” you said before stepping aside to let her in.

She walked through the entryway and stopped at the foot of the queen bed.

“Did Willy Wonka come in before I did?” She raised her eyebrow at you.

You couldn't help but to giggle. “No, goofy! I thought we could have a proper movie night,”

Her lips slightly curled into a weak, but much needed smile. You walked to the miniature fridge to pull out the cups. “Do you want apple juice or soda?”

“Juice, please,” she responded as her eyes scanned your selection. She picked out a couple of items, then a third one for good measure, before plopping herself onto the other bed in front of the television. You put your drinks on the nightstand and took the spot next to her. As if it was routine, the two of you tucked yourselves under the blanket. You hit play, and her body moved even closer to yours. Her head rested on your right shoulder, heavy and with a sigh. She is not talking about it, but you can read it all over her.

Caitlin's mind is rushing. It is impossible to land on a single thing. You could not begin to imagine the things she was saying to herself, and you did not care. The only thing you cared about was making those thoughts go away. You looked down at her and imagined yourself latching TNT onto the tracks ahead of her train of thought. You imagined it running of its tracks, leaving her without the negativity or self-doubt.

You could not stop staring at the bruise on her face. You have seen her hurt before, this is not anything new. You saw the bruises that those games left her with, the soreness in her body after a hard day in the weight room. In fact, sometimes you thought those bruises on her looked really, really hot. Something about that black eye, though, it makes you feel so utterly sad.

You wrapped your right arm around her shoulder and pulled her whole body even closer to yours. She did not hesitate, either. Her strong arms almost immediately wrapped around your waist and she took in the smell of the conditioner on your slightly damp hair.

“Thank you for this, [name].” She mumbled as her eyes stayed glued on the beginning of the movie. The sound of her voice felt like you were hearing it for the first time she spoke your name. You replay it in your mind over and over again, thanking God that you could be so close to her. Her friendship felt like salvation for the both of you, a reminder that life is still sweet and worth conquering. When you both imagine your old age, you think of each other, and the gentle serenity that each other's presence brings. “We're gonna have a house together when we're little old ladies,” she used to tell you when you were kids.

Your right hand found its way to her pin-straight brown hair. Your fingers wove themselves through and gently massaged her head. I love you. She leaned into your touch and closed her eyes with a small, content hum. With her arms around your waist, you felt like you could die here happy. The smell of her skin was familiar, yet intoxicating, like a drug that you could not get enough of. Your left hand moved with a mind of its own and slowly cupped her face. You lifted her head and she opened her eyes, her face inches away from yours.

You leaned in, and her grip around your waist loosened for your ease. You gently kissed the black spot under her eye, as if your touch could heal her from all the horribleness that came from today. She closed her eyes again, her cheeks flaring up and lighting on fire with her pumping blood. Her cheeks, ears, and neck felt hot with desire for your touch. You could hear her heart beating.

You kissed the spot again, gentler and slower this time. “Do you know that I love you, Caitlin?” You asked her.

She opened her eyes and looked at you. She furrowed her eyebrows, shocked that those words came out of your mouth. You have told each other that you love each other before, what pair of best friends have not done that? But you both knew this was different. You began to hesitate and tried to think of a way to backtrack, a way to explain-

She sat up fully and took your face into her hands. Her thumbs grazed your cheeks and her eyes studied the beautiful features on your face. It was as if she was seeing you for the first time. She moved her hand and touched your lips with her right thumb, tracing the outline and savoring the softness of your skin. Now it was your turn to blush furiously.

“Please kiss me, Caitlin,” you said looking into her mossy hazel eyes.

“I love you too, [name],” she slurred as she closed the space between you two. Her kiss felt gentle, but hungry. The both of you felt years worth of desire all at once. You wrapped your arms around her waist and ran your hands up her back, memorizing the way her body fits with yours. She made you ask her again, then again, then again.

The two of you eventually fell asleep in each other's arms with the ice in your cups melted and your snacks forgotten. You assumed she let her team know she was heading over to your hotel room, you just hoped none of them would suspect anything the next day.

[mitsua]

With an MC who likes to post about their dates with them

Warnings: none Genre: fluff

Series: OM! SWD? MC'S. . . GN!

Words count: 0.74k

I don't think he'd really like it at first, since you were all the time asking for a picture, for him to pose or smile, and, well, he doesn't really wish to do that.

However, once Asmodeous showed him all the posts you made on every date-how you wrote so highly and cutely about your spent time with him-it made somethings in his heart and pride go up to the stars.

"I'll smile only if you smile too."

Maybe sometimes is the one who catches you off guard asking you to take a picture of the most random moment on your date just as a joke.

But oh boy when he scrolls down later on and sees you really posted those embarrassing photos, he's gonna be malfunctioning for a while.

Still, as he reads your thoughts about the date on the picture's caption, his mind will race a thousands miles per hour and kick his feet like a little kid (obviously without anyone seeing him).

"Be grateful I'm not charging ya' for those photos!"

It started as posting about some streamings you watched, then to both your hands shown holding a video game controls, the final blow was when he woke up to an exaggerated amount of posts he'd been tagged on, new hashtags shipping the both of you and some even promoting their pages to read Leviathan x you content.

He was about to go insane, but as you asked him if he wanted you to delete all those posts, he reconsidered and ponder what was wrong on all that.

"It's fine, yes, it's going to be fine only with you by my side."

He'd get used to you taking a photo before and after entering a new place with him, sometimes a couple more in there. But never thought nor asked what'd you do with those.

Later on, as he read online about new places to take your date to in Devilgram as it seemed to be the most reliable app to ask to, he came across your page and finally saw all you had to comment of your dates.

"I love reading your narrating, however, would you mind telling me by yourself what you thought about it all?"

When he discovers your passion of publishing about your dates, you've grown accostumed to even going live on a couple of them. Of course the most part of your dates were private, you spent some time exchanging ideas on how to edit or tag your posts.

The only time you really caught him off guard was the time you posted a photo of him fully suited, when you attended to a fancy dinner of your anniversary together, he didn't notice you taking it! Your caption reading: "Hope you know you look beautiful to me in every way you'd never even got to imagine about <3"

His eyes got glassy as he absorbed your words and went immediately to hug you.

It's an odd thing to him, but doesn't really comment about it unless he thinks you're spending too much time on your D.D.D. your eyes might burn because of being glued to the screen all time.

One day, after an important fangol match of his, some reporters asked permission to publish the photographs taken on their Devilgram account and tag them on it, to which all of them agreed happily. After returning to the HOL he'd look for their team's post and click on your page by mistake, mersmerized with all the love you put on your almost daily posts about your dates with him.

"Uhm... do you want to take a picture of both of us eating this cupcake?"

He'd still have a weird approach, but trust me, he's trying.

He's between 'I don't like it' to 'I don't care'. Nevertheless, he would smile in a couple of pictures you want to take throughout your time together. But only when he's looking at you.

He won't bother looking to the camera, he'll only stare at you.

The only photo you have of him smiling to something else that was not you was when he was asleep. Probably dreaming of you too-

Sometimes, when he can't sleep, he might scroll down your Devilgram to remember those cute dates of yours.

"That I have to look to that little thing in your phone while you're taking the photo? Why? I want to look at you."

All writings' rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the picture and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!

[apuff]

my chemical tober :D

[monimccoythings]

The Way We Were

Word Count: 791

tags: f!Reader, dark!logan (past), threats, mentions of blood, past abusive behavior, implied alcoholism.

"Stop. it." His voice came out in growls.

His claws are so close to your skin you almost feel a thin line of blood running down your neck.

"One more word. Just one. And I'll show you what these can do."

You couldn't move. You couldn't speak. Too terrified and heartbroken of the man that had once mattered to you the most. The one you'd have willingly sacrificed your entire life for.

"Never look for me again. Don't call me. I don't want to see you." The rage in his eyes, the coldness, was a sharp contrast to the soft hazel orbs you had fallen in love with long ago.

*SNIKT* As fast as his claws had appeared, they were gone. You finally allowed yourself to breathe. It's short lived, because he's soon up in your face again, a disgusted sneer on his features.

"Now. Get out of my life." His breath smelled like tobacco and alcohol, all mixed together. He had been drinking himself to oblivion again. You let the tears fall. You didn't recognise the man in front of you. Your husband.

"GET OUT." He roared in your face, making you wince.

He turned around and left you behind without sparing a single glance, in the empty parking lot of that dive bar in the middle of nowhere.

That was the last time he would see you in many, many years.

Logan woke up sweating and with his heart hammering in his chest. It had been so long since the last time he had dreamed about you. About that fateful night.

He grips the couch so tightly, he's going to tear the cloth. His hands were shaking as he felt the too familiar hole inside his chest reappear. He needed a drink. He had to drink. This never happened when he was drunk.

Stumbling over his own feet, he made his way towards the fridge, opening it with more violence than necessary. With his heart in his throat, his eyes searched manically until they set on a single can of beer.

That would have to do. For now.

He tried to calm his overwhelming thoughts with a single gulp, nearly drinking more than half of the can; focusing on Althea's snores from across the hall. Whatever distracted him long enough to avoid thinking about-

You.

Your soft smile. Your encouraging words. Your endless support through all his mishaps and hardships.

How gorgeous you had looked in that white dress when you walked down the aisle towards him. How great you had made him feel, like he was the luckiest man on the planet.

How he had completely fucked things up.

No matter how hard he tried to keep his memories of you at bay, his treacherous heart kept going back to you.

He wondered how you were doing. If you got that promotion you wanted.

Did you still kept your endless collection of air fresheners that drove him insane? Were you living in a better apartment than the one you had?

Did you remarry? Were you two actually divorced? He didn't remember signing anything at all. His teeth clenched at the thought of anybody else having you.

He shook his head.

What right did he had over you? After everything he had done, all the pain and trauma he pulled you through, what made him think he had any say on who you choose to spend your life with?

He wasn't the man he wished he was for you. The one that you deserved.

Yet...

He was here. He had been given a second chance to pull his head out of his ass and do the right thing. Out of all the better suited Wolverines there were out there, Wade picked him and turned him into a different man.

He was a completely different man from the one he was back then. The one torn with rage and grief. That monster, murderer, he was long gone, locked away, he would make sure of it.

He looked towards Wade's bedroom. He knew the sneaky bastard hid some of those dimension-travelling tablets somewhere in his bedroom. Knowing him, it would be probably the dirtiest and grossest corner where he would be sure Logan would never look.

He titled his head. A dangerous idea forming in his mind.

Could he?

Would he actually dare?

What if he just took a small peek. Just to make sure you were alright. You didn't have to see him. And he could return home with the knowledge that you were alright.

It was a terrible idea. A dangerous idea. But if the Wolverine was known for anything, it was for barreling into danger first and asking questions later.

He just needed to find the right moment.

[pedroshotwifey]

Trouble in Paradise (Part One)

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada

A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3

*******

You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down. 

After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”. 

You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky. 

“Sweetheart?” 

Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.

You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back. 

“Be down in a minute!”

Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way. 

You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—

You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise. 

You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to. 

It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times. 

His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door. 

He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm. 

“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.” 

Smooth, you think. 

“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret. 

He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember. 

You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?” 

Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.” 

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues. 

You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.

Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier. 

When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?

Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that. 

You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. 

You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—

You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth. 

“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?” 

Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel. 

“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight. 

“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—” 

“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—” 

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.” 

In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad. 

“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”

You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.” 

He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.” 

You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs. 

“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.” 

*****

Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?

You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what? 

God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation. 

It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel? 

Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with. 

You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door. 

“Come in,” you call, unmoving.

“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.” 

You sit up at this. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.” 

Oh thank God. 

“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.” 

You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input. 

Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction. 

“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.” 

He gives you a hug and closes your door. 

You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case. 

*****

As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03. 

The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake. 

Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now. 

“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.” 

You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand. 

You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front. 

It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry. 

“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down. 

“I’m hungry.” 

Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?” 

You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation. 

Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX. 

He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him. 

“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.” 

He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing. 

Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first. 

“By the window, darlin’,” he says.

You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later. 

“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains. 

Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful? 

“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward. 

The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you. 

You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.

For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination. 

But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers 

through your earbuds. 

You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes. 

He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.

“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.” 

You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him. 

“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.” 

He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too. 

The speaker dings again:

“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.” 

Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was. 

******

You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane. 

You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming. 

There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise. 

You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into. 

You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up. 

“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.” 

You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.” 

He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting. 

“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”

Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area. 

“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.” 

You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.

You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan. 

“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles. 

You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace. 

“What all are we going to be doing?” 

Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?” 

“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?” 

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.” 

You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues. 

“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.” 

Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel. 

“Sounds easy enough,” you say. 

Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”

“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.” 

You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours. 

Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep. 

******

Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.

Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)

Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!

[lynzishell]

The Sims is love. List 5 facts about a favorite sim couple of yours, and why you love them so much. Then pass this on to 5 others, whose sim couple(s) you also love. 💘💕 :D

Thank you thank you @sirianasims as well as @mdshh and @elderwisp for sending me this ask!! (I'm hoarding the other two in case I get time to do more, but also tagging you here in case I don't aksdljflkd) ❤️❤️

I chose Phoenix and Dawn because I miss them dearly right now, but also...

💙TODAY IS THEIR ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!! I mean, in the story they got together in August like seven years ago, but this scene was posted one year ago today! I can't believe it! 🥹

💙My favorite thing about these two is how incredibly supportive they are of each other. My favorite example of this is in this scene where Phoenix takes Dawn to the bench where he used to talk to his mom. He said it was the best way he could think of to introduce them, and Dawn didn’t even hesitate, just jumped in and started talking as if his mom was really there, and I know it meant so much to him. The other would be this scene where Dawn expresses that she wants to leave her job and stay home with Aspen. Phoenix wasn’t fond of this idea. It puts a lot of pressure on him financially, and honestly, he would’ve loved to be the one to stay home with her. He probably could’ve plead his case to do so, but instead of pushing back he said, “how do we make this work?” and they figured it out.

💙They encourage each other to remain individuals. It’s difficult in this stage of life, between careers and marriage and parenting, to maintain a sense of self. One thing they always encourage each other to do is to pursue their own interests. In this scene we see Phoenix pushing Dawn to go have a self-care day to destress and indulge her interest in yoga and meditation. It’s been more difficult for Phoenix lately since his career is becoming more demanding, but he does still make time to run every morning before everyone wakes up.

💙They’re dreamers. One of the things they love most is talking about their plans and dreams for the future. Dawn has always been a very future-focused person. It’s a coping mechanism that keeps her distracted from her past, but it also allows her to maintain her optimistic nature, and it’s rubbed off on Phoenix.

💙They rarely fight. In most situations, they’re excellent at communicating and working through things. It’s rare they can’t find a middle ground. However, we recently saw a situation where Dawn let unresolved issues from her past lead her to break Phoenix’s trust, and that led to their biggest fight ever. When we last left them, they were doing okay, but I think it would be unrealistic to say that everything is suddenly fine now. There is some work to be done for Dawn to face her past and earn that trust back. More on that when we return to them in Part 5.  

[jennaispunk]

Every Time You Go Away

Summary: You have very few vices and the biggest one is Javi. It can never be serious but tell that to your heart.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f! Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, angst, allusions to smut, fingering (f! receiving), unprotected PIV (wrap it up, peeps), idiots in love, unspoken feelings, longing, two people who want what they think they can’t have, smoking, reader understands Spanish but does not speak Spanish in this story, reader is shorter than Javi, has hair that can be tucked behind her ear, and can be picked up by him but no other physical description is given, reader has an occupation (she's a teacher). Reader has a nickname (cariño, and one other that I won't spoil here). If i missed anything, please let me know.

A/N: This fic was written for @yopossum mootboard challenge. I love this moodboard so much and I love how much it inspired me. Thanks to @fallingforthearch for being my #1 fan and to @fhatbhabiee for looking this over for me. This is the first thing I’ve written that’s anywhere close to being angsty and it killed me to not give these two a HEA (maybe I will someday)

divider and banner by @saradika-graphics

Most people would be out on the town on a Friday night, enjoying the bars and nightlife Bogotá has to offer, but not you. You sit at home on your couch, waiting. He’s going to knock on your door any moment now, he always does at this time of night. You sip your glass of wine and stare at the stack of ungraded papers spread over the coffee table. You had assigned your fifth-grade class an essay and now came the laborious task of reading them.

Why you do this to yourself, you’ll never know. Javi doesn’t love you and he probably never will. You are an outlet for him, a place where he can unload his stress and drown his worries inside you. You’re no better than a whore, but at least whores get paid. You let him use you for free. You let him use you and leave and you never ask for anything in return. You’re always there with a soft smile and a willing body. Damn, you wish you could turn him away, tell him that this isn’t working for you anymore, but you can’t. You’re in love with him, you have been since the moment you met at that boring Embassy party. The thought of him not being in your life hurts worse than being his fuck toy; at least you get to touch him, kiss him, give him some sort of comfort.

“Hey, cariño.”

He props himself against the doorframe, his lean body drawn to its full height. His leather jacket creaks as he moves his arm, and heat slowly spreads through your chest.

You silently make way for him to enter your apartment and softly close the door behind him. He moves across your apartment with feline grace, like he owns the place. You suppose he does, in a way. No other man has spent so much time in your apartment since you moved to Columbia.

He prowls over to the small bar near the kitchen and pours himself some whiskey. A soft chuckle fills the air as he realizes it’s his favorite brand. There’s only one store in Bogotà that sells this brand and it’s not that close to the school or your apartment. His heart squeezes in his chest, you really are too sweet for him.

He lands heavily on the couch, the familiar mixture of cigarette smoke, aftershave and whiskey invades your nostrils. The scent fills you with a myriad of emotion and your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth.

He lights a cigarette and takes a long drag as you settle onto the couch next to him. He’s the only one you would ever let smoke in your apartment. You sit close enough to touch him, but you don’t. Javi likes to be in control, and you wait for him to make the first move.

He shouldn’t do this to you. You should be with someone who could give you everything you need….someone who wasn’t him. He wasn’t any good for you, he knew that, yet he showed up at your door like he always does, and you let him in.

He knocks back his whiskey in one fluid gulp, his Adam’s apple bouncing as he swallows. You look so goddamn sexy in those silky lavender sleep shorts. His left hand clenches and unclenches trying not to jump you right then and there.

“What’s all this?”

He jerks his head toward the chaos in front of you. Leaning forward, he sets his empty class on the table and picks up the top sheet of paper.

The corner of your mouth tugs upward as he studies the paper with intensity. You could almost make yourself believe this is what it would be like if the two of you were actually a couple, the two of you sharing a quiet moment after a long day.

“My students had to write an essay on their dream job. I was trying to get a head start on grading them.”

His signature smirk played on his lips as he read.

“The Ambassador’s son wants to be a DEA agent, huh? Bet she loves that.”

Your soft laughter lifts over the quiet music you had playing in the background. The Ambassador had no love for the DEA agents working in Columbia, especially Javi and his partner Steve.

“Maybe I should have you come in and talk to the class.”

You were only half joking but the thought of the tough and stoic Javier Peña standing up in front of a group of ten year olds makes you smirk.

He drops the paper and loud sigh escapes his lips as he pinches the bridge of his nose. You know exactly what that means.

“Tough day?” you ask quietly.

He tells you about his day while you listen silently. He leaves out the worst parts, of course. He can’t bear to tell you the whole truth, not wanting to subject you to the worst parts of his job. You don’t need that.

His large, warm hand rests on your bare thigh. As he talked, his hand caresses your skin, his fingers kneading your soft flesh. The need to feel you, to possess you is almost overwhelming and he grits his teeth. Those lavender silk pajama shorts are killing him, so much of your creamy flesh is exposed to him. His hand snakes further up your thigh as he takes a deep breath.

You watch his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed, the heat burning between your thighs. You shouldn’t want this; you know exactly what this is, but you can’t help yourself. You need to hang onto him, even if what you have isn’t real. This is enough. Oh, the lies you tell yourself.

“Want a refill?”

You already know the answer. He never gets drunk with you. He never has more than one drink when he’s with you, but you always ask. You’re just buying time, trying to stretch out the time spent together as long as possible.

He shakes his head slowly. His shoulders sag like he’s carrying the weight of the world. He knows he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t do this, he should have just went to see Vanessa or one of the other girls. He hadn’t done that in weeks. You’re the only one who can give him what he needs.

“Come here, cariño.”

He pulls you into his lap and wraps his hands around your waist, keeping you settled securely in his lap, right over the bulge in his grey jeans. The heat from his body soaks into yours and desire pools at your core.

He couldn’t look you directly in the eyes for more than a few moments at a time. He knew exactly what he’d see there. He’d see the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, and he knew that he was ruining you. He knew that you would never ask for more than he gave you and that broke his heart.

His lips crash against yours, his soft tongue plunging deep into your mouth. The wine on your tongue mixed with the whisky on his and he gripped your hips tighter. He wanted to lose himself in you, let you calm his raging soul, if only for a brief time.

Javi’s thick fingers snake up your back and into your hair. His grip is firm, but not painful. He doesn’t want to hurt you, even though that’s exactly what he’s doing. The pain may not be physical, but he was causing you pain, nonetheless.

He tilts your head back, his lips trailing down your neck. Vanilla and cherry fill his nose, a scent that’s uniquely you, driving his need for you even higher.

His teeth lightly graze your skin, and you moan softly. He knows just how to touch you, which parts of you are the most sensitive and he played your body perfectly.

He wraps your legs around his waist as he stands. His mouth is on yours again and he kisses you deeply as he takes the familiar walk toward your bedroom. It’s a trip he’s taken enough times that he doesn’t need his eyes to know where he’s going.

Your body looks so beautiful spread out for him on your soft sheets. You’re always so willing to let him have you anyway he wants. You give yourself to him so freely. How could someone so pure want someone like him? He’s not a good man and he doesn’t pretend to be. He did horrible things, told himself it was for the greater good but was it really? Are the things that he was doing worth it?

Javi slowly unbuttoned his shirt as he stood between your parted legs. He knows you like to watch him undress and he is more than happy to give you a show.

His smooth, tan chest is exposed to you little by little, making you throb harder with every pop of the buttons. The belt came next, unlatching it one handed as his other hand strokes your thigh.

You squirm as he unbuttoned his pants, giving you a peek at the small curve of his belly and the strip hair that led to the thing you wanted most.

He gently jerks you to a siting position. Practiced hands pull your tank top over your head, exposing you to him. He kneels before you, his soft lips brushing your neck. You’re so sensitive to him and it only serves to make him even harder.

Teeth gently nip at your exposed skin as he makes his way down your body. You are soft and so much of his world was rough. You soothe him, you make him feel whole.

“Javi…”

Just like always, you’re putty in his hands. You let him mold you in his image, desperate to have any piece of him that you could. You’d take anything he gave you. Despite what he might think, he’s a good man. You’ve seen how much he cares about his work and the people closest to him.

“Shhh, cariño….I’ve got you.”

His lips and tongue tease at your nipple, and your fingers tangle in his hair. He chuckles lightly into your skin as he plays your body like an instrument.

He pushes you back onto the bed and pulls off your shorts. His pupils are blown with lust as he marvels at the sight before him.

In a perfect world, he would take his time with you, he would treat you as gently as you deserve but he couldn’t. If he did, he’d only drag you down with him and he couldn’t live with that on his conscience. It was better to keep you at arms length, keep you safe.

His fingers drag through your wet folds and dip inside. He can’t hold back a strangled groan as your heat surrounds him. He works you slowly, opening you up for him until the tingle in your lower abdomen tells you it won’t be long before you came undone for him.

Your body clenches around his digits, your moans filling the room. Stars blind you as your orgasm ripped through your body with a vengeance. Javi’s hushed voice works you through it until you whimper his name.

You didn’t give you much time to recover before he was pulling off his jeans and his body covered yours, settling between your thighs. His weight on you feels good, comforting even but it shouldn’t. For now, you pretend this was more than it was. You pretend that this meant something and not just a way for him to release his tension.

He intertwines your fingers with his, pinning your hands to the bed. Holding your hands like this is the only bit of intimacy he allows himself.

He pushed himself inside you, holding back a moan. All his worries vanished as your warmth surrounded him. He’s lost in the feel of you, the way you grip him so tightly. He’s convinced this is the closest he’ll ever come to heaven.

His pace steadily increased as you moaned for him, making those sounds that he loved to hear. You sang so beautifully for him.

You mewled as he hit the spot that only he could reach, and you knew you were close to coming for him once again.

You cried out his name and your walls squeezed around him.

“That’s it, cariño…don’t fight it.”

You tried to hold back. You wanted this to last as long as possible because you know as soon as it was over the spell would be broken. You’d have to face the reality that you loved a man that didn’t love you back.

“Be a good girl and come for me.”

You obey his command, and your walls fluttered around him as your second orgasm hit you. It felt like an electric shock through your entire body. Every nerve in your body fired all at once.

You whimper softly as the aftershocks ripple through you. Javi never stopped, working your through your orgasm once again as you whine and cry for him.

He picked up his pace and his hips slap against you as he chased his own release. His hips stutter as he buries his face into your neck and spilled himself inside you, painting you with his seed.

He laid on top of you for a minute, breathing you in and taking advantage of the last few moments he had you like this. He couldn’t let himself linger too long and he rolled off you, reaching down for his jeans to grab his pack of cigarettes.

Your mind was still hazy as you roll onto your side, watching him rest against the headboard and light his smoke. This was yet another thing you only did for him, you would never let any other man smoke in your bed.

He smirked at you as the cloud of smoke obscured his face. It was his way of telling you he was satisfied. He couldn’t say it out loud, that would be too much.

He crushes the butt into the ashtray on the nightstand and laid back down. He smooths the hair from your face, tucking the strands behind your ear. It’s the only bit of comfort he can offer you. It’s not nearly enough, he knows that, but he can’t let himself give you more.

“Get some sleep, rana (frog).”

A giggle bubbles up from the depths as you hear that stupid nickname he gave you. Not long after you first met, he told you that you reminded him of Sally Field’s character in “Smokey and the Bandit”, his favorite movie. You thought he was crazy, but somehow the nickname just stuck.

You didn’t want to sleep because you knew what came next. You knew he would leave once you were out. He would leave the way he always does, like a thief in the night. Did he know that he was also leaving with your heart? Did he even care?

Sleep finally took you. You never could stay awake long after being with him but maybe that was for the best. If you were awake when he left, would you be able to resist the aching need to ask him to stay? You didn’t think you were that strong.

He watched you for awhile as you slept. You looked so peaceful in that state, like an angel. Maybe you were…. maybe you were here to save him even though he didn’t deserve it.

He quietly disentangles himself from the sheets and looked back at your sleeping form one last time. You look so beautiful with your messy hair and your soft body wrapped up in the sheets. His heart ached to tell you how he felt, how he longed for you, but he could never do that. You’re too good for him; he’d only ruin you with his roughness. He would never forgive himself if he hurt you. You belong with someone better than him: a doctor or a lawyer, someone who would treat you the way you deserved. You’d drown his darkness; it would swallow you up and change the very essence of who you were. Still, he came back, time after time, taking everything you gave him without so much as a complaint. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t let you go. He loved you…you were the one thing that kept him sane. Maybe one day he could be the man you needed but today was not that day.

The sun streaming through your bedroom window woke you. Just like always, you woke up alone. The bed cold and empty next to you, but his scent still lingered. You roll over and bury your face in the pillow allowing yourself to breathe him in the way you never dare let yourself when he’s here. Admitting your feelings is not an option but that’s all you want to do. Maybe one day you’ll be brave enough to look him in the eye and tell him you want more. You can handle his darkness; you’ve been doing it for months even if he doesn’t realize it. Maybe next time you won’t just fall asleep…. you’ll ask him to stay.

[merinsedai]

Thank you, @ficreadingchallenge for this fun little bingo challenge this summer! Some of these, I could have filled multiple times and some I had to have a search for, but all part of the fun!

1. Under the influence: Spoils of War by @seiya-starsniper [E] Aphrodisiacs! Starting strongly with the smut. Kinda feral for this piece, multiple rereads. Hob is not a good man but he is good in bed. Dream has not spoken since he arrived. How long ago that was I don't know, but I'm in awe of the pettiness. Excellent, love it. Very much E (and probably not the only one on this list...)

2. Newest fic in the tag of your choice: listen, I'm very one-track minded. Dreamling has basically been the only tag of my choice for the past two years. So, the newest fic when I decided to do this square was: Dream Ship by @often-adamanta [E] A spicy little tale set on a space ship which Dream controls and Hob's his muscle. They're a new partnership and Dream's not happy about it so he's giving Hob the silent treatment. Queue Hob taking some alone time, Dream accidentally interrupting and Hob having no privacy issues at all. The start of something beautiful, no doubt.

3. Inspired by another fanwork: I'll Go To Sleep and Dream Again by @chaosheadspace [E] which is inspired by Shelter by softestpunk. An accidentally human Dream has need of the help of Hob Gadling to help him navigate life as a human (eg facial hair, food, and morning wood), regain his Endlessness and recover his tools. Whilst falling in love and having some hot sex ofc. Also, a lot of lovely petnames.

4. Mistaken Identity: As a Stranger I Know Myself by @phinofthestorm and @sleepsonfutons [E] Could be no other choice for this square. Gripping drama, mysteries, feeeeelings, smut (obvs), plentiful existential angst, and shit goin' down. Featuring Jessamy the raven knocking her head against the wall; Burgess's cane; name repetitions; everyone having A Time of it; side characters Shipping Them Too; oh, and a main character you don't expect to like as much as you do...

5.Slow Burn: What Dreams May Come, When Living is at an End by Sebena [T] This fandom is slow burn central, but this is the fic I'm currently in the middle of, and I'm quite enamoured with the relationship between Knight Hob and Morpheus, and it's beautifully descriptive. Plus some lovely pieces of art by @teejaystumbles A real treat.

6. Dressing Up: Make it Count by @arialerendeair [E] Dream gets to dress Hob up very nicely for posh dinners aboard the world's most famous ocean liner in this wonderful Titanic AU. Dream gets to dress down, too! A longer fic but absolutely gripping! Could also use Aria and Konstadt's Colour Forecasting [E] for this square. There's lots of fancy tailoring and clothing choices going on here. And lots of smut, relationship navigation and lots and lots of kissing.

7.Author's oldest fic: Metamorphosis by @windsweptinred [M] Delightful fic about-yes- the metamorphosis of Dream and Hob into Something Else. Starts with high drama as Dream is about to take Death's hand as the Kindly Ones are ravaging the Dreaming and takes things in a very different direction. There's stunning artwork on each chapter that really adds to the reading experience!

8. Small Fandom (<1000 fics): In Which Cat/Cow Is Not A Yoga Pose by @temve [E] ok, technically a crossover with The Sandman (although for pure Aldrich Kemp there's A Fishbowl, a Forklift, and a Friend: or, Who Hired Aldrich Kemp? which I read back in April, so doesn't count for the summer challenge) Temve has Aldrich's voice down to a T and her humour is so on point. I laughed out loud many times in both these fics.

9. Gift Giving: For Your Affection by @cuubism [T] short and sweet little fic by cuubism dealing with high larceny as a love language. cuubism's writing is so joyful, the playfulness she often gives to her Dream brings me great happiness and there's no exception here.

10.Enemies to friends/lovers: Tower and Rose by @moorishflower [E] Beauty and the Beast style 'au' with a magic tower, a mysterious lord, a plucky peasant Hob, an 'imprisonment', a terror stalking the grounds and many, many questions. Why are all the servants ravens? Twists and turns a plenty, and some fun eldritch sex sprinkled in.

11.Lyric Title-listen to the song, too!: please wake me/for my love lies patiently by @beatnikfreakiswriting [E] sequel to the also-having-a-song-lyric title, would you let me know...? aka fics that live rent-free in my head after having rewired my brain. Featuring the most relatable Hob ever, copious interesting facts in the author's notes, and a Dream who would have scared the shit out of me if he'd been my lecturer but is hot af and needs lots of love really. Lots of scorching smut too. Is this a theme? Obviously. Bonus that each chapter, and the series title, have song lyric titles too.

12.de-aging/kidfic England and Nowhere (Never and Always) by @dsudis [M] The last fill on my card, and one I had to search for. And I'm glad I did. I'm about 1/2 way through so don't know the resolution but a lot of it is very soft, especially Dream's relationship with the changeling toddler, Finn. Finn feels very much like a real little boy in his actions and his dialogue. I'm very much enjoying this fic.

FREE SPACE: literally anything by @tj-dragonblade fluff and smut and pure delight.

13.character study: Unsent Letters, Nameless Stranger by @rainbowvamp [M] letters from Hob to Dream throughout the centuries detailing the evolution in Hob's thoughts, attitudes and feelings towards his life, his history and mostly, his feelings for Dream (aka a lot of pining). I'm about halfway through the letters so far and am looking forward to getting back to them.

14.happy ending: My Fair Gadling by @zigzag-wanderer [E] a work in progress, so we haven't reached the happy ending yet, but I have faith in the author and this absolutely wonderful fic. Hob has such a strong narrative voice, he is a delight to read and so, so funny. I laugh out loud constantly in all of ziggy's fics, whether that's the dialogue or the hilarious analogies and metaphors. Professor Morpheus is a study in buttoned up sadness to begin with, but just wait until he's unleashed. He's unbearably sexy when he rolls his sleeves up and fixes car engines at the side of the road, and endearingly earnest in bed. I eagerly await every chapter (especially to find out what outfit Hob has shimmied into that day).

15.Secret Relationship: Risk and Reward by @signiorbenedickofpadua [E] absolutely cracking Regency au. Lord Morpheus spends a lot of time early on feeling mildly fevered. It's probably nothing to do with his new house guest, Mr Robert Gadling, right? These guys slowly, so slowly move towards Something Special. There is the ultimate thrill of finger brushing; the admiration of shapely legs and the highly charged Shakespeare reading. Also balls, duels, painting, stargazing, horse riding and misuse of biblical quotes. And I'm only half way through! The relationship is of necessity given the time period, secret. At the point I'm at, it's finally begun in earnest and I'm excited to see where the plot takes them next!

16. Angst: Exit Wounds by @valeriianz [T] There are many angst-ridden fics in this fandom, and I am a sucker for angst. I love it and seek it out. This fic by sanyumi tore my heart out, stomped all over it and then threw it in the river for good measure. Sometimes you just need to feel destroyed and this delivers.

17. Omegaverse AU So Tell Me Where To Put My Love by @seiya-starsniper [E] Another of my favourite au topics! This starts out with an unhappily arranged marriage, secrets and angst and lots of miscommunication and then explores the developing relationship between Hob and Dream; Dream getting to feel empowered; more miscommunication; knitting; Hob getting to be incredibly rude to Dream's mother, and a very happy ending. Could have tagged loads in this square. Special mentions to i have no fear of time / for who knows how my love grows? by @gabessquishytum [E] for pure horny good times most centuries; and also the incomparable Lover, Be Good to Me by @omgcinnamoncakes which I haven't actually read this summer but which hasn't left my brain. The ultimate omegaverse slowburn and healing fic. Wonderful.

18. High School/College au: Dr Hardass and Professor Sweetheart by crimandclove [G] an outsider pov look at Hob and Dream, who are both professors at the same university (and also married, of course, though the protagonist doesn't know it). And by the same author: Coincidence, [T] which is the story of how Dream and Hob met and became friends in high school. Pure nostalgia for me and Hob is such a delightful pov character to follow. Unfinished but with a full synopsis of how the story would have gone.

19. Road Trip: The Blood of Bucephalus by @llflorence [E] no actual roads, but these guys sure go on a journey. Set in ancient times, with shades of Alexander the Great. Except it's king Morpheus and his loyal soldier (and lover) Hob. Featuring Hob being mostly bewildered about what's going on and Morpheus being the most tight lipped monarch in existence. Also featuring a love for horses and Morpheus's unquenchable desire to travel incognito. Written with the same tenderness, intensity and mystery that is Lis's hallmark.

20. New author (<1 year) Coma Dreams by TheTroubleWithTribbles [M] a fic I had to actively search for but very much enjoyed reading. Some domesticity, Dream being caring, Matthew being traumatised, and Hob enjoying an extended trip to the Dreaming. Featuring some laugh out loud moments, Dream with broccoli patterned oven gloves and Hob being free with terms of endearment.

21. Crossover or fusion fic: Half Asleep, Half Waking by @softest-punk [G] again, I could have chosen fics by softestpunk to fill most of the spaces on this grid! Isn't their writing delightful? Such warmth and such range. Something for whatever you're in the mood for. Am in awe. Anyway, this is a crossover between The Sandman and Rivers of London. I didn't know the RoL books, but after reading this I listened to them on audible and came back to the fic. Very enjoyable- thanks, Cecil! Nightingale is my favourite character from RoL and I loved his relationship with Hob. And Hob gently chiding Molly and Nightingale to get their acts together, ha!

22. Superpowers/no powers Au: Here in the Darkness by @cuubism [M] Since we've got one 'super' character, and one 'normal' character in Dreamling, I chose cuubism's reverseverse fic where they've switched around. Good grief, it was good. Hope is a ray of sunshine, eh? He's just going around being lovely and offering hope, and being kind to Morpheus. And then gets captured and treated horrifically for a century. There's plenty of angst, Morpheus being snitty, then depressed, then a vengeful angel and then they get some softness. It's pure cuubism magic: it's fucking brilliant.

23. Only One Bed: The Chase by @imnotcrying-ipromise [M] I followed along with this story as it was being published early last year, and it was a wild ride of emotions and cliffhangers! Not only is there only one bed, there is a hunt across the country, a wonderful yet dangerous connection, and of course, some falling in love. It's such a fun and thrilling tale: a unique concept with a menacing villain. The sense of peril is real: for our canon characters and some lovely ocs we meet, too. And in the quieter moments there is a lot of sweetness and care between Dream and Hob. An excellent re-read this summer.

24: Soulmates: Destined by @arialerendeair [M] I love a good soulmate au, and this is a cracker by Aria. Featuring not one, but two rescues, a number of villains getting their just desserts, and visits to a Greek temple. Hob is, by turns, a bamf and a gentle, considerate man. He's spent 600 years trying to figure out what the letters of his soul mark mean, and when he does... Dream has spent countless years not even knowing he has a soul mark/mate; it takes a severance from the Dreaming to reveal it, and when he finds out...

[pookietsunoda]

Saw this post abt Alonso getting accidentally electrocuted and thinking he was 14 (as well as this tag on a reblog)

what if... the whole grid accidentally got struck by some deus ex machina non fatal zap that gave them temporary amnesia and they all became convinced they were 14 for a day? Here is what I think would happen:

First off, they're all so hyped about being F1 drivers and get excited about the dumbest shit (phone games, wheel guns, tire blankets)

Max and Charles fight each other over the Inchident

George is starstruck by the fact that Alex is an F1 racer (bc Alex was his karting hero growing up) but Alex didn't become friends with George until he was 15, so he has no idea who George is, which is Humiliating to fragile teenage George.

Half of them can't speak English fluently yet. Only the younger ones (Oscar, Franco, etc) know that google translate exists and they help massively in the linguistic problems.

Unclear whether or not Pierre and Esteban are besties or enemies, or both. They are one of those things, and they're insane about it because they're teenagers. Lance and Esteban are probably like Normal friends though.

Lewis is like "where tf is Nico" and finds adult Nico. Lewis is super pumped to hear that they both made it to F1, were teammates and won WDCs, Lewis is an F1 GOAT, and that Nico married his childhood crush. (Their life trajectories literally sound like what a kid imagines their future to be like.) And Nico is like "hey we actually had a falling out" and Lewis is like "that's crazy man, how would we stop being friends? You want some frosties?"

Immediate Spanish speaker clique between Fernando, Carlos, Checo, and Franco. They are shook that THE Fernando Alonso wants to be besties with them (especially Carlos since Fernando is his hero).

KMag and Hulk are probably friends since this is pre Suck My Balls and they're friends now so, their energies align I guess.

Being 14 year olds who find out they're rich and famous, they all want to escape into the real world and take joyrides in the expensive cars they own/ drink alcohol/ see strippers/ buy crazy stuff and their team staff is like OH NO WE CAN'T LET THEM ESCAPE (Thus ensues comedy gold of the team staff chasing kids who have the bodies of professional athletes around the track and trying to contain them)

If in Singapore, Yuki and Zhou manage to escape because they are 2 East Asians wearing designer and F1 merch and they blend in with the fans. (As a disguise, they swap team shirts and put on surgical masks and people are like "Is that Zhou Guanyu?" "Nah why would Zhou be wearing a Yuki shirt?") Word gets out in the drivers whatsapp that they escaped and they immediately get bombarded with requests for what to buy for the rest of the paddock. They cannot rly understand each other but Zhou can get around Sgp pretty easily bc a lot of people there speak Mandarin. He has to stop Yuki from breaking at least five Singaporean laws. They stuff themselves at hawker stands and have a great field trip but then get recognized and have to make an emergency getaway on a stolen electric scooter. They do get Lewis his Frosties.

Lewis doesn't know he's a vegan and almost ruins his reputation by being spotted by paparazzi eating Frosties with non vegan milk. Also gives himself a nasty stomachache.

Despite being told not to tell other people about the mass amnesia, Max and Lance both call their dads. Lawrence is like "My poor son! I will get the experts to look into this right away!" Jos is like "idc if you don't remember how to drive the car, you're gonna do it or I'll disown you." Daniel and Lando grab the phone and tell Jos he's a meanie and also was a shit F1 driver, then hang up.

George finds chewing gum at the bottom of someone's bag and starts spiraling, convinced that the Singaporean police are going to arrest and execute them all for possessing illegal items.

Lord of the Flies scenario where George and Oscar are trying to organize everyone to make sure they don't accidentally hurt themselves, whereas Lando, Fernando, KMag, Daniel, and a few others are just trying to have a good time and cause chaos. Bottas and Alex and a third group are just like quietly messing around in the back.

They come to a truce in order to organize a GPDA strike because they have been banned from leaving the track until they regain their memories. They barricade themselves in someone's garage and have a sleepover on the floor with lots of candy and games. Lewis finds a guitar and plays Wonderwall.

They wake up the next day extremely confused (but remembering everything) and race as normal LOL

[onepiece-writting-forest]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7 - ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ɪᴛ

Summary: After meeting Law's kind-hearted uncle, Rosinante, you learn more about his complex family history. What was supposed to be a casual, cozy game night after quickly takes an unexpected and more intimate turn.

Tags: Rosinante as a fashion designer ( I love writing him), Law teasing the living shit out of you, n.sfw, oral, subtle confession.

a.n.: I had to add Rosinante, I love him so much can't put it into words. Also their relationship going further, the slow burn is even making me impatient. By the way the game is really cool, you should give it a try.

>>[ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]<<

You strolled leisurely down the bustling street, wrapped up in your cozy jacket as the cool breeze nipped at your cheeks. With your headphones in, you hummed along to the music playing softly. You were in a good mood. Since the party, you and Law had been keeping in touch, messaging back and forth. It was nice, even though you quickly realized texting wasn’t exactly his thing.

His replies were always short, straight to the point, with almost no emojis or playful banter. But he responded. Which was all that mattered.

As you wandered past a few shops, your eyes scanned the window displays without any real intent to buy. You stopped in front of a store you hadn't noticed before. The name caught your eye—Corazon, written in sleek, silver lettering that shimmered in the afternoon light. The store oozed elegance, the kind of place that seemed almost too fancy for you.

You glanced at the items on display: high-end fashion pieces, bold yet sophisticated. A particular bag, held by a male mannequin, caught your attention. It was gorgeous—luxurious and far beyond what you’d ever spend. One look at the price tag made your jaw nearly drop. The cost of that tiny bag was probably more than your entire wardrobe put together. But, wow... it really was beautiful.

As you admired the bag, something out of the corner of your eye made you pause. You squinted, trying to see past the mannequin. Was that…? No way.

It was Law, standing inside the store, chatting casually with a tall, blonde man. You blinked in surprise. What on earth was he doing in a place like this? You knew Law wasn't exactly rolling in money. He still worked a delivery job and shared an apartment with his friends. This store didn't seem to match his laid-back, practical style either.

You stared a little longer, curiosity got the better of you. Unfortunately, the blonde man must have noticed your watching them. He pointed at you, a slight look of confusion on his face. That was all it took for Law to turn around, his eyes locking onto yours.

You froze on the spot, your heart doing a weird flip as if you’d been caught spying. For a moment, you weren’t sure what to do, yet you forced a shy smile, raising your hand in a small, awkward wave.

Law flashed you a quick smile back, and turned to the blonde man inside. Before you had a chance to react, he was already pushing open the door and stepping out to greet you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, standing in front of you with that familiar casual grin, hands tucked into his pockets as if this was just another ordinary day. But beneath that calm exterior, his heart skipped a beat. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but seeing you here was a pleasant surprise—one he hadn’t realized he’d been hoping for.

“Hey,” you replied, looking up at him with a warm smile of your own. “Nice to run into you like this.” There was something about the way you smiled that made his chest tighten just a little. He kept his face neutral, though—typical Law.

“Spending your hard-earned cash on designer stuff now, huh?” you teased, chuckling as you glanced back at the luxury store.

Law shook his head. “Just visiting my uncle.”

Your eyes widened a little in surprise. “Your uncle? He works here?” You looked back at the store, where the tall blonde man—Law’s uncle, apparently—was now beaming at the two of you from behind the glass. He waved enthusiastically, clearly delighted, his hand gestures wildly inviting you inside.

“He owns the store.” Law corrected you, which made your eyes go even bigger.

“I didn’t know your uncle was into, well… fashion,” you said, raising your eyebrows.

Law grinned; a bit sheepish. “Yeah, it’s not exactly something I bring up in conversation.” He glanced back at Rosinante, who was still waving energetically, looking like he might burst through the window any second if you didn’t respond.

You laughed, noticing his uncle's antics. “Uh, does he want us to come inside or something? Because he’s... definitely trying to get your attention.” Your tone was playful but with a hint of irritation, as Rosinante’s exaggerated hand movements grew more intense.

Law sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, let’s go before he breaks something with his windmill arms.”

Despite wanting to enjoy the moment alone with you, Law knew his uncle well enough—Rosinante wasn’t going to let this pass without an introduction. Part of him was amused, but another part felt a little nervous. Rosinante always took it upon himself to vet the people Law kept close, and his enthusiasm for the task could be... overwhelming.

Law held the door open for you, allowing you to step inside first. The store was even more luxurious up close, with its sleek black and baby pink color scheme that somehow worked together perfectly. It was the kind of high-fashion boutique that felt worlds away from your usual shopping spots. You followed Law further inside, weaving past mannequins draped in designer clothing, until you reached the back where Rosinante stood, practically glowing with excitement.

"Hi! Are you one of Law’s friends?" Rosinante greeted you with an infectious enthusiasm, extending a large hand for you to shake. His energy was so warm and welcoming that you couldn’t help but chuckle as you took it.

"Yeah, I’m Y/N," you said with a smile, matching his upbeat vibe.

“Oh, what a beautiful name for such a pretty face.” Rosinante exclaimed, his voice full of genuine warmth. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Rosinante, but you can call me Rosi. I’m Law’s proud uncle.”

You glanced over at Law, who sighed softly but wore a small, amused smile. Clearly, this wasn’t his first rodeo with Rosinante’s over-the-top introductions. But from what you could see, it didn’t seem to bother him too much. If anything, he seemed... comfortable.

"Law never mentioned you," you teased, grinning at him, half expecting a cheeky response. Law just rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smirk. Family wasn’t something he brought up often—probably ever—but you figured it was a good chance to learn more. And Rosinante seemed like the type who’d be more than willing to share everything.

“Well, technically, we’re not blood related,” Rosinante said with a chuckle, causing you to glance between the two of them in surprise.

"You’re not?"

Law stepped in to explain, his voice calm. "Rosi’s a family friend. He took care of me when my parents were busy with work." And his sick sister. Yet he let that part out, no reason to mention that.

"Busy running the city hospital," Rosinante added, his voice suddenly tinged with a touch of nostalgia. His eyes softened as he looked at Law, clearly reminiscing. “God, you grew up so fast. I remember when you were just a little grumpy kid running around my place...” His voice cracked a little, as if he might get teary-eyed just thinking about it.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. Wait, what did he just say? "Your parents are doctors too?" you asked, turning to Law, surprised by the new revelation.

Law nodded casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal. "Yeah."

You processed the information for a moment, realizing how little you actually knew about him. He’d always seemed so private, and you hadn’t wanted to push. But this? It felt like a significant piece of the puzzle.

"So," you teased lightly, raising an eyebrow at him, "are you planning on going back after you finished uni?" You laughed, but there was a hint of curiosity in your tone. You somehow hoped his answer would be no, you just got attached to him.

Law chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, not exactly my plan." He didn’t elaborate, but his tone was firm, like the subject wasn’t up for debate. He noticed how you slightly relaxed, apparently content with his choice.

“Hey, Rosi, I’ve got some things to catch up on with Y/N. Mind if I come back another time?” Law’s voice cut through the conversation. He sounded casual, but there was something in the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat. The thought of spending some spontaneous time alone with him made you a little excited, though you tried to keep your expression neutral.

Rosinante, ever the observant one, nodded with an easy smile, though there was a glint in his eyes—a knowing look that you couldn’t miss. He had seen something, understood something. And from the way he glanced between the two of you, it was clear he already had his suspicions. After all, Rosinante knew Law better than almost anyone.

Law was notoriously private, barely letting anyone into his inner circle unless they were family or people he’d known for years. You, on the other hand, were new. Yet, here you were, already comfortably in his orbit.

“Sure, sure,” Rosinante said, his voice warm but laced with that subtle teasing tone, as if he was already in on a secret. “Take your time. Come by whenever.” He gave you both a little wave, as if to send you off with his blessing, but not without a sly grin in Law’s direction.

Law sighed quietly, his usual unbothered expression intact, though you caught a flicker of embarrassment. “Let’s go,” he murmured to you, holding the door open once again. You could feel Rosinante’s gaze on your back, almost as if he was silently cheering you both on.

As you stepped out into the street, the cool air hit your face, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Does your uncle always look like he knows something?” you teased, nudging him lightly.

Law let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “He’s got a wild imagination, that’s for sure.”

You shot him a playful grin, feeling that familiar, easy energy settle between you as the two of you walked side by side down the street. The cool breeze tousled your hair, and the comfortable rhythm of your footsteps matched.

You decided to sit somewhere in a café, and when you reached your destination, you already knew what was coming before it even happened. Predictably, Law swooped in and paid for your drinks before you could even react, despite your usual protests.

“You’ve gotta stop doing that,” you groaned, eyeing him as he slid your drink across the table. “I swear, every time.”

He smirked, nonchalant, already settling into the chair across from you. “Next time,” he said casually, leaning back as if this wasn’t the hundredth time he'd promised.

“Liar,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes playfully. “You always say that.” You nudged his leg under the table, a little harder than usual for emphasis, but he just laughed, the sound low and relaxed. His leg didn’t move though—neither did yours, both of you comfortable with the quiet, subtle contact.

“So, what have you been up to?” Law asked, pulling you both back to the conversation.

You shrugged, leaning into your chair. “Just the usual. Uni stuff. It’s not easy being the first non-doctor in the family,” you teased, throwing him a mischievous glance. “Must be rough growing up with not one, but two doctors in the house.”

Law raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Wow, that was subtle,” he deadpanned, though there was a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Can you blame me?” you said with a smirk. “First, I find out about your medical dynasty. Then your uncle’s some high-end fashion designer? What's next? Secret agent grandma?”

Law snorted, rolling his eyes dramatically. “No, that's pretty much it.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll find something else. Just wait,” you teased, shaking your head with a laugh.

He leaned forward slightly, his smirk softening as he met your eyes. “You really dig into people's lives like that?”

You leaned in, matching his gaze, grinning. “Only the interesting ones.”

“Oh, so you’re interested in me?” Law's voice dropped into that deep, raspy tone that always caught you off guard, but this time you held your ground, meeting his gaze with a teasing glint in your eyes. He was trying to play it cool, but you could tell he was testing you, seeing how far you’d go.

You leaned in a little, lips curling into a smirk. “Mhm, no, I’m only interested in your inheritance now.”

Law chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. The kind of laugh that wasn’t just amused, but knowing. “You’re too smart for a sugar baby,” he murmured, eyes glinting with a challenge.

Without missing a beat, you shot back, “And you’re too handsome to be a sugar daddy.” You could see the slight shift in his expression—the momentary flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Got him.

His grin widened, and for a second, there was a glint of something almost dangerous in his gaze, like you’d managed to break through his cool exterior. With a lazy wink, he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as if conceding defeat.

“Touché,” he said, still smiling, though his eyes hadn’t quite let go of that spark of surprise. You took the win and took a sip of your cup with a satisfied grin.

“Hey, by the way, this new game just came out.” You set your cup down, resting your chin in your palm, eyes bright as you looked at Law. The way you casually leaned in, your lips softly curving into a smile as you spoke, made it almost impossible for him to focus on anything else. You started explaining the game, voice animated, your eyes darting around like you were trying to visualize it in front of you.

Law sat there with his usual lazy, laid-back look, though inside, it was a completely different story. His chest tightened, warmth creeping through him as he watched you. He wasn’t even listening to the words coming out of your mouth—he was distracted by the way your smile lit up your entire face when you turned to him, by how softly your lips moved as you spoke. It was almost unfair how easily you could pull him in without even knowing it.

“…Mh?” he mumbled, only half-aware after you finished speaking, still dazed by the feeling you were stirring in him.

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. “Did you even listen to a word I just said?”

“Sorry,” Law smirked, quickly covering his flustered moment. “I got distracted by my spying grandma behind that plant over there.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, clearly not buying his excuse. “Uh-huh. Sure you did.”

Shrugging off his teasing, you sat up straighter and continued. “Anyway, I was saying… Wanna come over and try it out with me? It’s co-op, so we can play together.” You gave him a hopeful smile, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of your cup.

Law grinned, leaning back in his chair as if considering your offer. “What game are we talking about again?” he asked, eyes sparkling with mischief. He was clearly teasing now, knowing full well you’d already explained it.

You groaned, throwing him a mock annoyed look. “Just come over, I’ll show it to you myself. You’ll love it.”

His chuckle was deep and warm, the kind that always made your chest flutter. He nodded slowly, still holding onto that playful glint in his eyes. “Alright, alright. Is Saturday good for you?”

“Saturday’s perfect.”

The weekend finally rolled around, and you found yourself prepping your apartment for Law’s visit. You weren’t trying to impress him; those days were long behind you both. Still, you tidied up a bit, grabbed some snacks and drinks, and hopped in the shower before pulling on something comfy. Just your usual—nothing fancy, but enough to feel good.

When the doorbell rang, you rushed over, opening it to find Law standing there, looking as he always did after work—tired but relieved. “Hey,” he greeted, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry I’m a bit late. Just finished my shift.”

You could see the exhaustion etched in his face, though there was a noticeable sense of ease now that he was with you. “Come in,” you said, stepping aside to let him enter. You watched him set his motorcycle helmet down near the door, moving with a kind of practiced laziness.

“Was it stressful?” you asked as you headed into the kitchen to grab him a drink.

Law had already collapsed onto your couch, sinking into the cushions like it was his first real breath all day. “You could say that.” His voice trailed off as he rubbed his eyes. He looked like he was trying to muster up the energy to enjoy the evening with you despite how drained he was.

“Beer?” you called from the kitchen.

“Whatever you’ve got,” he replied quickly, then continued once you re-entered with two cold bottles. “Thanks… yeah, it was one of those days. Someone got the wrong order, and I was the lucky guy who got yelled at. As usual.” He clinked his bottle against yours with a weary smile before taking a long sip.

“That sucks,” you said, settling next to him on the couch. “Why are you even doing deliveries? Isn’t your family pretty well off?”

Law hesitated, glancing at you. You’d already seen glimpses into his family situation, but there were still parts he wasn’t ready to lay bare. He let you in a little, he still trusted you after all.

After a brief pause, he shrugged. “Don’t like being a burden.”

You tilted your head, curious. “From what I’ve seen, you’re basically living off coffee and fried eggs, how is that being a burden.”

That earned you a small grin from him, though it didn’t fully reach his tired eyes. “Family member got sick when I started uni. Meds were expensive, and my parents weren’t working as much. Didn’t want to add more to their plate.” He let out details about his sister well-being, intentionally not having the energy nor wanting to think about it.

The way he said it so casually and shrugged along, like it wasn’t a big deal, wasn’t left unnoticed by you. You could tell there was a lot he wasn’t saying—things he wasn’t ready to share yet. Which you respected. Law didn’t want pity, didn’t want to dive into the storm he was clearly holding back. He appreciate that you didn’t dig deeper, and left it at that.

“Well,” you said, matching his casual tone, “one day you won’t have to do deliveries anymore. Just gotta get through uni first.” You offered him a small, encouraging smile, which he returned with a nod—though his was weighed down by more exhaustion than optimism.

“Yeah,” he muttered, taking another sip of his beer. “We’ll see.”

After a beat, Law glanced toward the console you had plugged in, clearly ready to shift the conversation. “Wanna play?”

 “Definitely.” You beamed, putting your drink aside as you jumped up to grab the controllers. Once you bent over to reach for them, Laws eyes darted to you. You shorts crawled up your cheeks, exposing that sweet flesh of yours. He took his time mustering the pretty sight you gave him.

Law grinned slightly to himself. Just the distraction he need after dipping into a sensitive topic of his.

“Here,” you said, tossing him one of the controllers with a grin. It flew a little too close for comfort, almost landing on his crotch. Law caught it at the last second, shooting you a mock-outraged look.

“Could you please be more careful with my future children?” he deadpanned, though the smirk on his lips told you he was more amused than annoyed.

“Sorry,” you shot back, laughing. “Didn’t mean to risk bringing more know-it-alls into the world.”

Law rolled his eyes, grinning as he leaned back into the couch.

You booted up the game, explaining it as you went along. “So, it’s called It Takes Two. It’s this co-op puzzle game where you play as a couple trying to fix their relationship while helping their daughter. I’ve seen some clips—the story’s pretty heartbreaking, but the design is awesome.”

Before you could finish, Law had already claimed the character selection screen. “I’m playing the chick,” he said, selecting the female character—the mother—without hesitation.

You raised an eyebrow at him, clearly amused. “The mom?”

“What?” Law shrugged. “She’s got the better design. I like the colors.”

You shook your head with a grin. “Fine. Guess I’ll be the dad, then.”

 As you got the hang of the controls, it didn’t take long to notice that Law was less interested in teamwork and more focused on messing with you. Every time he jumped on a button to create a path for you to cross, he'd mischievously move off just as you reached the edge, causing your character to plummet back down to the start.

“For fuck’s sake, Law!” you laughed, half-exasperated, half-amused, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “We’re supposed to fix our divorce in the game, not make it worse!”

Law chuckled, eyes gleaming with amusement. “It’s just too much fun watching you fall.” His grin was infuriatingly smug, the kind that told you he had no regrets.

“Oh, sure,” you said, narrowing your eyes, “and I’m supposed to trust you now?”

“Promise I won’t do it again,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. But the glint in his eyes told you otherwise, and you could already sense the next trap coming.

Still, you pressed on. When you reached the next precarious platform, you hesitated, knowing full well that he could mess with you at any moment. Just as you took a leap of faith, the path began to disappear beneath your feet once again, thanks to Law’s mischievous antics. But this time, you barely managed to land on solid ground.

“Ha!” you exclaimed triumphant. “Nice try, jerk.”

When it came time for you to help Law, you couldn't resist dishing out a bit of revenge. You let him fall repeatedly, or simply walked ahead without him, laughing to yourself every time his character met an unfortunate fate. Progress in the game ground to a halt, but that hardly mattered. Watching the frustration build on Law’s face was the real reward.

“Come on, Y/N, we haven’t even finished the first proper map,” he groaned, shooting you an annoyed look as his character plummeted once again.

You grinned, enjoying your moment of power. “Beg for it, sucker.”

But instead of giving in, Law's expression shifted, a playfulness lighting up his eyes. He leaned back slightly, his voice lowering in that all-too-familiar teasing tone. “Thought you were the one who liked begging.”

Heat instantly crept up your face as his words registered, the memory of that one shared night crashing into your mind. You had no doubt what he was referring to—how he’d relentlessly teased you until you’d given in, basically begging him to fuck you.

“Was just a one time thing.” You quickly tried to regain your composure, but the embarrassment lingered, especially with the way he was looking at you—so calm, so confident about his teasing. And there you were, struggling to keep up with the game and the sudden heat spreading across your skin.

Law leaned in slightly, his voice a playful murmur. “Sure, if that helps you sleep at night.”

You rolled your eyes, desperate to steer the conversation away from the memory that now seemed to hang between you two. “Alright, alright,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “Let’s get back to the game before your ego gets too big.”

“You didn’t seem to mind big—”

“I swear to God, Law!” You burst into laughter mid-threat, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him, hitting him square in the face. Law barely flinched, his smirk only widening. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and while it drove you insane, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it.

Law pulled the pillow off his lap and chuckled, tossing it back in your direction. “Then stop being a dick in the game.”

You grinned, grabbing the pillow with mock determination. Leaning in like you were about to launch another attack, you readied yourself to retaliate, but Law was quicker. He sat up sharply, grabbing your wrists and holding them firmly, his grip tight. That smug grin never left his face.

“Go ahead, try,” he taunted, daring you. You pushed against him, but it was no use—he was stronger, and with little effort, he tipped the balance, sending you falling back on the couch. The pillow tumbled onto your chest as Law moved to pin you down, his hands still wrapped around your wrists. His body hovered over yours, the proximity sending your heart racing. You could feel the warmth of his breath, just inches away from your lips.

His gaze locked onto yours, that teasing glint now more intense, more focused. “Now,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, almost commanding tone that made your stomach flutter. “Help me get our daughter back and cut the crap.”

You weren’t going to let him have the last word so easily. “Make me,” you whispered, trying to sound confident despite the thudding in your chest.

Your eyes flicked to his, trying to gauge just how serious he was. His grip on your wrists tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that he was in control now. The way he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your lips, sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating off him.

He chuckled, lowering his head to nuzzle against your neck. “You sure?,” he said, his voice muffled against your skin.

You shivered as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot behind your ear, sending a wave of tingles down your spine. You could feel one of his hand sliding lower, tracing lazy circles on your hipbone, while the other held your wrists in an ion grip. The sensation was both comforting and electrifying, making it hard to think straight.

“Maybe I changed my mind,” you murmured, tilting your head to give him better access.

Law’s fingers tightened briefly on your hip before releasing “Too late,” he replied, his voice thick with promise.

You couldn’t argue with that. The way his touch made you melt beneath him, the way his presence set your heart racing—it was impossible to deny the tension between you. And as much as you wanted to maintain your pride, the truth was too tempting to ignore.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust. Looking at you as if you were his little prey. “Stay still.”

Law’s fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your waistband, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. The unexpectedness of it all made you gasp, your breath hitching as he traced slow, deliberate circles around your navel. His eyes never left yours, watching intently for your reaction, that smirk still plastered on his lips.

He moved his hand lower, brushing against the sensitive skin just above the edge of your shorts. You squirmed instinctively, but he held you in place, still pinning you down, while his fingers moved teasingly close to where you needed them most.

“Stop playing and get on with it,” you muttered, half-heartedly struggling against his hold.

Law chuckled softly, leaning in closer until his breath tickled your ear. “Patience, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice husky and seductive, making it clear what your place was. With one swift motion he slid off your short, making them tangle at your ankle before you kicked them off.

Goosebumps spread over your skin as his fingers dipped into the waistband of your underwear now. He explored the curve of your hip, his touch both gentle and insistent, before slipping lower, his fingers finally finding the warm, wet center of your desire.

“Fuck,” you moaned, arching your back as he pressed against your clit, circling and teasing with known precision. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, completely forgetting about the game.

Law’s free hand moved to cup your face and released your hands, his thumb stroking your cheek as he continued his ministrations. “You want more?” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction, seeing how easily he could tame you.

“Yeah,” you admitted, your hips bucking slightly as he increased the pressure, pressing harder against your aching need. “God, Law… please…”

He didn’t answer with words, instead choosing to show you exactly what you wanted. His fingers slid inside you, filling you as he began to move with purposeful slow thrusts. The feeling was intoxicating, and you could feel the heat in your body building rapidly, threatening to overtake you.

He leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and lingering. The taste of you on his mouth was heady, and you couldn’t help but kiss him back, hungry for more of his touch.

“Now…,” Law said, breaking the kiss and looking down at you with that same intense gaze. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready for what was coming next. But Law’s eyes locked onto yours, and you found yourself unable to resist. Slowly, you parted your legs, giving him full access to your vulnerable core. With a lift of your hips, your underwear was quickly slipped off as well.

Law didn’t waste any time. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hands resting on either side of your hips as he leaned in. You could see the determination in his eyes, the raw hunger that mirrored your own desires.

He lowered his head and took you into his mouth, his tongue flicking against your clit in a way that made you cry out immediately. The sensation fogged up your mind, making you circle your hips against his tongue. God, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He started off slowly, teasing and tasting, his wet muscle exploring every inch of your folds. The warmth of his mouth combined with the pressure of his tongue drove you wild, and you couldn’t help but pull at his hair, desperate for more.

Law’s hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he picked up the pace. His tongue worked relentlessly, circling and probing, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing second. The sound of your moans filled the room, mixing with the wet, slick noises of his mouth working its magic.

“Oh God, Law… I’m gonna…” you gasped, your body trembling with the force of your impending orgasm. Before you knew it, you felt two of his finger back inside you, gently pumping in and out as his tongue was still playing with your clit.

That were enough to push you over the edge. Your entire body clenched as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss washed over you, your thights tightened around his head, as you came. Law didn’t stopped, his relentless tongue ensuring that you rode out every last bit of pleasure until you were left a shuddering, panting mess beneath him.

When you finally came down from your high, Law lifted his head, his lips glistening with your juices. He looked down at you, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“You going to listen to me now?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement as he he wiped off the rest from his chin and licked his lips clean.

You could only nod, too exhausted to form coherent words. Law chuckled, leaning down to kiss you, this time soft and gentle.

“Good,” he murmured against your lips, giving you one last peck before pulling back. Law straightened up, moving with a casual ease that almost made you grin. He bent down to collect your scattered clothes, handing your shorts and underwear back to you without a second thought.

“Thanks,” you muttered, still breathless, as you slowly sat up. A light dizziness settled in, your body buzzing with leftover adrenaline. It was hard to fully process what had just happened—how quickly everything had escalated, only for him to shift gears just as smoothly.

Before you could even catch your breath properly, Law dropped the controller back into your lap and unpaused the game as if nothing had transpired. He sat back down beside you, this time closer, his leg pressed against yours. Without a word, he allowed you to lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder while you tried to recover from the whirlwind of emotions and the intensity of the moment.

“You’re good at this…” you mumbled, commenting on how effortlessly he had made you cum just moments ago. Law glanced at you, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he finally focused on cooperating with you in the game.

“You’re worth it,” he replied without thinking, the words slipping out so fast that even he froze for a second. His character in the game stopped moving entirely as the weight of what he’d said settled in the air between you.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback, your heart skipping a beat. Did you just hear that right?

Law’s usual confidence faltered as heat rose to his cheeks. He quickly turned his attention back to the screen, avoiding your gaze, but the way he shifted told you he wasn’t used to being this exposed. His attempt to play it off only made it more endearing, and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered uncontrollably.

A soft smile crept onto your lips, one that you didn’t even try to hide. Without overthinking it, you leaned in and gently kissed his cheek, the warmth of your lips lingering against his skin.

“Okay, we gotta split here—” you said, turning your attention back to the game, picking up right where you left off.

As you explained the next steps, you caught the subtle shift in Law’s expression. A small, genuine smile began to form on his face as he relaxed next to you, sinking into the couch with a new kind of ease. The tension that had filled the space between you earlier now melted away, replaced by something softer, something unspoken but deeply understood.

He listened to your instructions, but his mind kept drifting back to what he had said. And as he glanced at you, his smile deepened ever so slightly.

Yeah, you were definitely worth it.

tag list: @mars-mizuko, @tadomikiku, @hopelesslover06 , @loraleiii (Let me know in the comments and I’ll add you 🖤)

[lync-lay]

my cute barista

ੈ✩‧₊˚ - barista jake! x coffee hater reader!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ - word count: 2.1k

ੈ✩‧₊˚ - not proofread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ - genre: fluff

ੈ✩‧₊˚ - synopsis: your best friend, jay, drags you out to the local coffee shop on campus for a study session. the catch is, you hate coffee and no barista has ever successfully made you something you actually enjoyed. until, one does. as each day passes, you return to the shop, not only for the drink, but the cute barista who makes it.

summer has just recently ended, marking the official start of comfy sweaters and ugg boots on campus. the leaves are starting to change colors and the weather is much colder. this is the time of year that calms you down and keeps you in bed all day. and i love it.

its morning, and as i'm laying in bed casually watching a movie, i feel my phone begin to ring next to me. rolling over to grab it off the charger, i see that my best friend, jay, is calling. jay and i have been best friends since elementary. we are inseperable and were lucky enough to be accepted into the same university.

"hello?" i say into my phone.

"goooooood morningggggg y/nnnnnnnn!" jay says, on the other line, accentuating his words. ever since we were kids, he has always been a morning person. me on the other hand, is not.

"omg jay why are you so loud its like 8 am right now." i expressed.

"its a great morning. im honestly surpised you're even up at this time."

"yeah same but i woke up like an hour ago and couldn't fall back asleep. so im just watching a movie and admiring this very calming weather."

"well im glad you're up because i was wondering if you would want to go to the cafe on campus with me and study?...please?" he asked.

i hate coffee. the taste is bitter and unpleasant and occasionally, the smell gives me a headache. jay knows this so to say that i am surprised he even asked is an understatment.

"jay i-"

"look y/n i know you despise coffee but please. you don't have to get that, theres so many other options. and i also need my study buddy with me...please?" he pleads.

jay isnt aware of how many times ive been to a coffee shop, ordered something other than coffee, and hated it. so i doubt i will be ordering anything but he's my best friend so, i agree to go.

"fine, i'll go with you but i can't guarrantee ill have a good time." i say with a sigh.

"be so for real y/n...it's a study session, you won't have a good time. but ill be there, so you will have a good time." he explains.

silence hangs over the call for a few seconds.

"jay...im gonna hold your hand when i say this...that made no sense" i confess.

"mhm i know. ill be at your dorm in 15" he hangs up.

jay arrives when he says he will, 15 minutes. and next thing i know were off to the campus coffee shop. i'm kind of dreading going because i don't know what i'm gonna get. probably just an ice water. at least i can try and get some work done.

on our walk, jay tells me about a girl he's trying to impress and i give him advice per usual. he then goes on to explain how he really needs to study some form of math formula. im too busy admiring the autumn weather to respond. suddenly, we arrive at the coffee shop.

walking in, the aroma of coffee hits me immediately. the sound of cups shaking, ice, and brewing machines reminds me why i stopped coming to coffee shops.

"what are you gonna get" i ask jay.

"im gonna get an iced americano" he responds.

"what is that..."

"it's like cold black coffee poured over ice water"

"that actually sounds terrible. how do you enjoy that?" i ask, my facial expressions scrunching.

"it wakes me up niceeeee and gooooood." he taunts me.

"next" the barista yells.

oh my gosh. the barista is hands down, the finest man i have ever seen in my entire life. as jay and i walk up, i have suddenly lost the ability to speak. my legs feel like jelly and my heart is beating out of my chest.

"what can i get for you guys" the barista asks. my eyes suddenly make a b-line from his face to the name tag on his apron. jake, his name is jake. while jay places his order, my eyes are glued to jake. the way his hair is slicked back with a strand hanging by his forehead, the way his veiny hands type in the order, the way he flashes that perfect smile. i'm so entranced, i didn't even realize that he asked me a question.

"im sorry what did you say?" i apologize.

"i asked what i can get for you" jake asks me, flashing that deadly smile of his.

"um, i actually really dislike coffee. so i don't really know what i want."

he shakes his head slowly and places a finger over his mouth, obviously thinking of an alternative to my problem. wow, he is beautiful.

"this is gonna be a little risky but i'm gonna recommend that you try a matcha latte. it's kind of a hard drink to describe but i really enjoy it and its nothing like coffee." he explains.

"okay, i'll try that." i respond with a smile, my cheeks heating up from our small interation.

"alright perfect, so just an iced americano and an iced matcha latte. and because its your first matcha, it's on the house. so the total is $4.50" he states.

"omg really? thanks bro. this girl has hated coffee for so long so hopefully she'll like this." jay says with gratitude.

"no problem! i hope she likes it too." he flashes me a warm smile.

"whats the name for the order?" jake asks.

"jay".

"alright, that'll be done here shortly".

we walk over to find an empty table and take out our school stuff to start studying. all i can think of his jake and his charm. i turn over to see him taking orders and working on drinks. the way he moves around to different stations is so attractive.

"y/n will you please stop making googly eyes at the barista?" jay says, snapping me back to reality.

"i can't help it. he is actually so cute jay." i expressed with a sigh.

only a couple minutes pass when jake suddenly calls for jay, notifiying that his order is ready. jay grabs the order and the entire time im looking at jake. jay grabs the drink from him and jakes eyes pan over to be, giving me that smile once again. he's so attractive.

"here, he says he made it extra special in hopes that you would like it". jay hands me my drink and sits back down.

i'm a little nervous to try it. the green color is very offputting and i almost don't want it. but nonetheless, i gain some courage and take a sip. jay eyes me very seriously as i do so. i can understand why jake said it was a hard one to describe. i contemplate about the flavor, going back in for another sip.

"do you...like it? he asks me.

"suprisingly, yeah i do. a lot actually" a smile forms on my face as i continue to drink it.

"thank god you actually like something. now lets get to work".

unbeknownst to me, jake was behind the counter watching me. his heart began to be beat and smile creept on his face once he noticed that my drink was almost half way gone.

the sun rose slowly the next morning and the thought of going to class is killing me. all day yesterday, i couldn't stop thinking of that insanely cute barista, jake. his smile lingers in my head and that drink he made me was so delicious.

as im laying in bed, im suddenly hit with the craving of that drink and the cute barista who made it. i throw on my clothes for the day, grab my bag, and head to the coffee shop before my first class of the day. i have no idea if jake is working but i sure hope so.

as i walk in, i immediately see him. my heart begins to beat and my face is turning red. i realize that this time i dont have jay to hide behind and i contemplate if i should turn back. but it's too late because his eyes find mine, and he gives me the same sweet smile from yesterday.

the lines moves quickly and im suddenly at the counter, face to face with jake.

"hey, there." he smiles.

"hello." i smile back.

"no boyfriend today?" i give him a confused look. boyfriend? what boyfriend? oh, he must be thinking of jay.

"oh jay hahaha, he's not my boyfriend. he just my best friend who followed me to college." i laugh.

"oh okay i wasn't sure. it's not often a pretty girl like you walks in by herself." he tilts his head and winks.

oh. my. god. my cheeks begin to heat up and i can't help my smile from coming out. y/n get yourself together.

"well what can i get for you" he leans down on the counter, now being eye level to me.

"well i still hate coffee but i loved what you made me yesterday so that's what i would like." i say with a smile

"haha the iced matcha latte, you got it pretty girl. whats the name for order." he asks, eyes never leaving mine.

"y/n. and how much?" i ask.

"don't worry, i got this one."

"what? no, you got it yesterday jake. let me pay for it." i pleade.

"nope, like i said, i got it. it'll be done soon" he explains.

"thank you." i walk over to an empty table and immediately text jay. i explain to him how jake thought we we're together, then how he called me pretty twice, and gave me my drink for free. minutues pass and me and jay geek over mine and jakes interaction when i feel a soft hand being placed on my back.

"here ya go y/n," jake says with an endearing tone.

"oh thank you. i wasnt expecting you to bring it to me." i explain to him.

"well it's not busy so i thought i would come see you before you left." this man's charm is insane. his smile is something i could look at forever, and the way his aussie accent rolls off his tongue is so attractive.

"well thank you for the drink, im off to class now."

"will i be seeing you here again?" he ask, his brown eyes sparkling with hope.

"yes, i'll be back jake." i say with a laugh.

and i kept my word. everyday for the next two weeks, i went back to the cafe. i love my morning matcha (that he never let me pay for) but i also love seeing jake. his charm keeps me coming back for more.

this particular morning, i wake in the cafe to see jake already waiting for me with the matcha in his hand. the place wasn't busy so the boy walked straight up to me, and embraced me. his touch is warm and he smells of warm coffee and autumn spices.

"well isn't this a pleasant surprise" i say with a laugh as i reciprocate his embrace.

"we havent been busy and i was missing you so i made your matcha so you wouldn't have to wait." he confesses, cheeks turning slightly pink.

"aw well that's very sweet jake, i am actually in a rush so this is perfect" i smiled at him.

"well i wanted to ask you something, but you're in a rush so i wont keep you" he states, looking a litte disappointed.

"wait tell me, i can make some time for you." i expressed.

his eyes lock with mine and i can see a little bit of worry and nervousness in his expression.

"well, i know we havent known each other long but i really enjoy having you around. i come to this job everyday in hopes of seeing you every morning. i love making your matcha for you. and i want to get to know you more. what im trying to say is, would you want to go on a date with me?" he confessed, his entire face in worry.

"awww jake i absolutely would go on a date with you. i hate coffee but why do you think i come here everyday? to see your cute face" i explain.

he pulls me in for another hug. "oh my god, im so happy". he pulls away to look at me.

"it wouldve been really embarrassing if you said no cause i um, already wrote my number on your cup."

who wouldvr guessed that my hatred for coffee would turn into me falling for a barista who smells just like it.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ - a/n: hellooooo. hopefully you guys somewhat enjoyed this. this is my first fic after not writing since um...2020...so its definitely not perfect but i wanted to get something out there. nothing too long but i still hope you enjoyed.

[graciehart]

helloooo sweet friends!

as you've probably seen, I've been slowly working my way through requests for my follower appreciation event. and though I intended to finish this event before starting a new one (whoops), I also want to celebrate that there's 500 MORE of you (!!!!) than there was when we started, some from brand new fandoms! Thank you for spending time listening to me scream about the things I love.

to celebrate and thank you for the joy you bring into my life, I have decided to do somewhat of an extension of my original event (it'll all be the same tag, but I am going to tweak a few guidelines). NOTE: this is open to everyone, even if you sent a request for the first round!

*once requests close, I won't be taking any more requests until I finish all of these! ideally I'll finish by the end of the year, but I make no promises about the timeline since we're entering a busy season and sadly gifmaking isn't my actual job.

**requests will close September 28. love you all! guidelines under the cut 🩵

————————————————— 🩵

NOTES

we don’t have to be mutuals, but you do need to be actually following me since this is a follower appreciation!

I have absolutely noooo idea what the timeline on this will be lmao (I currently have completed 23/37 requests since starting in April) so please… ✨ lower your expectations ✨

Because of how hard it is to make sets when uninspired, I make them in a completely random order! I want to make sure it's as nice as possible for you and not just me carelessly throwing something together :)

please just one request per person so I can hopefully finish this in a reasonable amount of time and come up with new things to do!

for this event, anonymous requests will not be completed

please consider reblogging this if you send a request so more people can see it <3

to request a gifset, please choose from this list and send me…

🎶 + a character/(friend)ship for a lyric gifset with lyrics of your choice 📖 + a character/(friend)ship for a quote gifset with a quote of your choice 🎨 + a tv show/character for a color palette gifset (send 1-3 colors or general color scheme) 💝 + a theme for a short playlist that I make for you (you can send me a fandom or background information if you wish! also let me know if you prefer apple music, spotify, or a youtube playlist)

*I don’t have a list for them, but you may request movies and musicals as well (as long as you’ve seen me blog about them!)

thanks for being here! 🩵

[apollos-favorite-child]

ooc post abt some drama

So I’m pretty sure everyone has either interacted with @/demigod-jack-hearth or at least seen some of the posts that were made abt his Circe au. I’ve been trying to keep track of everyone’s thoughts on this (namely @unhinged-waterlilly and @if-chaos-was-a-boy who both have really helpful posts about it) and since I’m capable of producing coherent thoughts every once in a while, I thought I would share my thoughts on all of this.

So I should probably start with the AU, which really was the cause of a lot of this chaos. So first of all, making it in the first place was a very interesting choice. I’m not sure if Jack based it more off the odyssey or the epic musical, but either way it’s just a very weird decision. I understand people like to project on their character which makes sense, but Jack never mentioned being r@ped. (And I hope he never was) but it feels like if he was comfortable enough to make that part of an AU, he would’ve probably mentioned it one of the times he was trying to defend himself.

I understand that HE might’ve thought it was a fine change to make since he was comfortable with it, but I’ve seen a handful of people saying it made them uncomfortable. I’m aware it’s not his job to make sure everyone is happy, but the whole AU was really unnecessary knowing it could’ve made someone uncomfortable.

People even went to Jack saying they were v!ctims and they didn’t like his AU, and he basically told them to fuck off, without ANY condolences or apologies to the people for having to go through that. Those people shared their experiences and he just didn’t care.

And YES Odysseus is a fictional character, but his trauma is still basically being disrespected. I’ve seen a couple of people saying other are being dramatic since they are angry about him being invalidated, but it makes sense to me why they would be angry.

One anon (who was a sa victim of I remember right) came to Jack being rude, and SO many people have been rude to this anon, calling them either rude or dramatic, but honestly I think they were just really angry about what Jack had done (which is perfectly understandable) and they didn’t really think or bother to be polite when they sent that. They made a mistake too, but I don’t think jacks response was any better.

And once he realized that he was wrong (after having to be confronted by multiple people) he NEVER apologized. The words “I’m sorry” were not on a single one of his posts. He basically was just trying and failing to defend himself. This all could’ve been solved much quicker with a simple apology, but he’s more concerned with making sure everyone likes him and that he’s right so he doesn’t have to deal with any guilt.

And now he’s apparently disappeared and has been self harming and just struggling a lot. But you want to know what I find interesting? Jack never mentioned having a boyfriend, and now Fred has taken control of his account, responding to almost everyone and trying to defend Jack. I might be the only one, but I did NOT understand how to use tumblr at first, and it took me a while until I even learned how to reblog people and tag stuff. Even once I did learn how to tag people, I wasn’t tagging 20+ people on every post like Jack does. Another interesting thing is that the blog said something along the lines of “I didn’t mean to blah blah blah” and sounded like it was Jack defending himself, but then the message ended with -Freddy

If I was Fred, I would’ve made ONE post explaining why Jack disappeared, and not mentioning any of the sh or breakdowns. He could’ve made a post without mentioning all of that and disrespecting jacks privacy. Instead, he’s been responding to every person and mostly trying to defend Jack in every one of them. He also said he locked Jack out of his tumblr account, which you LITERALLY CANNOT DO unless he took away Jacks phone, which just seems really controlling, even if he did think it was best for Jack. So yes, this is me saying that I don’t think Fred is real. Especially since Jack is a ROLEPLAYER, and we are completely used to acting like different people.

Going back to the self-harm topic, I think that parts very weird as well. He’s made self harm jokes, and while I know perfectly well people can use humor as a coping mechanism, that’s just another really insensitive thing to do. It just doesn’t really make sense to me how you can make self harm jokes one week and then let your boyfriend tell a bunch of people on the internet you’ve been trying to hurt yourself.

Overall I think this spiraled into a lot more than it should’ve been, and this all wouldn’t have happened if he had just apologized, or just never have made that AU.

jacks tag list- @zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite

@fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son

@bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial

@reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia

@that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass

@kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @i-was-never-sane @clown-energy-skyrocketing @zoe-aura-of-d3ath

@itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena

@sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @thedaughter-of-death @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan

@demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @southerndaughterofeos

@creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes