#(i really wanna write a fic about this)

[nothinglastsforever222]

When Kelsea said last night that she got them all cowboy hats I thought to myself ‘please show Adam, please show Adam’…they did NOT disappoint.

(photo creds to EverydayShevine)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

cant stop thinkin bout charles and erik readin together on the couch but instead of reading with him charles is listening to eriks thoughts while he reads. Live mind commentary ……..

[flushwithdarlings]

"Here, Rook, try this."

"Lucanis Dellamorte, I will gladly eat anything you give me."

It is an act that knocks Lucanis off guard, the way Argentei catches his wrist with an elegant hand and dips down to take a bite of the flaky pastry held between his fingers.

It is sweet, it is salty, and it pulls a pleased, bordering on obscene, sound of satisfaction from their throat.

Lucanis' blown black eyes narrow down to the way the pink tip of their tongue runs across the plush of their lips, chasing a stray bead of honey.

For one desperate moment, he thinks that they might move onto the crumbs on his fingers.

Mercifully, they don't.

Mercilessly, he is sure that they can feel his pulse thrumming like a bird pinned down by their thumb.

Their hand doesn't leave his wrist.

[i-am-as-normal-as-you-are]

Keep thinking about this Payneland Sentinels/Guides + Wing AU idea I had awhile ago SO y'all get to deal with me rambling

Quick info about Sentinels and Guides

~ A Sentinel is a person with enhanced senses (touch, sight, hearing, smelling, and taste), due to the enhanced senses it can become very overwhelming - similar to pulling a muscle, that can happen with their senses being too overstimulated

~ Guides help to ground and calm a Sentinel

~ Together they can help control and focus a Sentinel's abilities as well

Check out this cool Sentinels and Guides info post if you don't know what they are, the person does a great job explaining things

Now rambling time

Edwin is a Sentinel and Charles is a Guide

Overall Sentinels and Guides are rarities here, they were less known about during Edwin's time and were shunned - during Charles' time there was more knowledge on them but they still weren't really accepted by everyone - then modern day there's definitely better acceptance compared to the past + laws/rights protecting them

While Edwin was alive, he didn't have a Guide, but had some control to not get too overwhelmed due to his enhanced senses (or at least not show it around others, otherwise he'd definitely hear about it from his family)

But Hell threw that bit of control and composure out the window with how intense it was.

He thought that with escaping he'd be able to get some reprieve, but he still feels too much, and there's so many new things around him that it takes awhile to attempt adjusting.

Then he stumbles onto Charles and things start to feel a little less, more comfortable and controlled.

When Charles dies, they learn that he can't feel things like before, which they assume is the norm for ghosts. BUT he can feel Edwin perfectly fine, especially after bonding. He only has senses when it regards Edwin, like for example he can smell Edwin's ghostly hair pomade. Plus Charles is able to detect him nearby.

(I hc that a lot of ghost's senses are dulled or seem off compared to when alive, like touching things feel odd or smells seem dulled - so Charles would follow that logic + the special added bonus of properly feeling Edwin and his senses being able to detect Edwin due to being his Guide)

They learn that Edwin has all of his enhanced senses in tact, so for example he's still capable of tasting/eating but doesn't need to eat since he's a ghost so he doesn't see a point in doing it unless if it's necessary for a case (sometimes Edwin wishes he could give that capability to Charles since Charles reminisces and misses food a lot)

During the beginning, they basically had to stay attached at the hip. Anytime they'd tried to do something separately, Edwin would get spikes or zone-out frequently. Edwin hated feeling so useless plus thinking that he's trapped Charles where he won't move on due to Edwin's reliance on him - Charles does enjoy being around Edwin, he also really enjoys that he can feel and sense him, he's now in a world that he can't properly feel things like when alive but then there's Edwin as his beacon, but sometimes he worries that he's just using Edwin to feel something like 'Am I touching him too much, is he uncomfortable and just not saying anything?'

Things improve overtime where they can go do their own thing from time to time, but still just usually default to sticking together. They started taking on cases especially since Edwin's enhanced senses seemed perfect for it.

Also at first they bond and see it as plantonic.

It isn't till Crystal comes around which causes Edwin to have more territorial/protective instincts and jealousy come out regarding Charles + all of the stuff in Port Townsend, that they start to think about taking it further towards it being romantic.

(Bonus: Crystal thinking they're already together cause they constantly touch each other and have been caught cuddling together)

Then combining the wing au idea with the Sentinel/Guide stuff

So here Sentinels and Guides are also born with wings, at times it's used as a way to help easily spot others (So for example, in modern day if an unbonded Sentinel might be having a spike or zone-out, others might seek out the nearest person with wings who is an unbonded Guide to assist the Sentinel)

Edwin has the wings of a Little Owl and Charles has the wings of a Laggar Falcon

When alive, Edwin was to bind his wings and hide them so others wouldn't see them, only able to have them out in private. Then while in Hell, he had to learn the habit of keeping his wings tucked very close to his body or else they would be a huge liability.

Charles keeps his wings out since he finds them cool, but also tries his best to keep them under control. Too many instances of him getting too excited and his wings accidentally knocking something over... his dad wasn't happy.. (His dad hates his wings, but his mom praises how beautiful they are)

After they meet and Edwin binds his wings out of habit, Charles immediately puts a stop to it cause that CAN'T be healthy. But Edwin will still keep them closely tucked to his body.

Edwin has found that when Charles helps him calm down, he quite enjoys when Charles wraps his wings around him to encompass both of them. It helps block things out.

Then it took awhile, mainly due to Edwin not being as open about his wings, where they help preen/groom each other's wings

Edwin was used to making do on his own, while Charles usually had help from his mom. So it started with Charles asking for help, then Charles saw what Edwin was doing and decided that boy needs help (like 'Edwin this spot is an absolute mess cause you can't reach it properly, I'm helping you')

[flowercrowngods]

It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.

Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.

It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.

Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.

Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.

It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.

It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.

Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.

They have a couch now. A sofa.

It's so fucking unreal.

He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.

And it feels really fucking big.

At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.

For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.

The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.

It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.

And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."

"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.

Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.

Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.

"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.

"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."

Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.

Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.

And it's so unreal.

"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."

Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.

"Why's it crazy, angel?"

He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.

"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."

Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.

"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."

"We've got a couch now."

Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.

"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."

Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."

And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.

But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.

And they have each other.

They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.

In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.

Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid@hotluncheddie @gutterflower77@auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important@stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic@bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.3k

It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either. 

Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.

It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.

These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.

You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?

———

A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door. 

Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other. 

“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space. 

Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”

You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.

“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”

You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?” 

“What?”

“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”

“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”

You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”

You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”

Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?

“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”

“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”

“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response. 

When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.

“You’re not going to eat?”

Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”

“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.

She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine. 

You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway. 

Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.

“Work?”

“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.

She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”

You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.

“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.

“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”

A pause.

“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.” 

There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.” 

Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”

A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV. 

By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.

And she did.

Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.

———

“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.

You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold. 

She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this. 

You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.

When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.

“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hummed, “do you need it?”

“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.

As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.

“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.

“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”

She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”

———

Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras. 

She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.

The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth. 

Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you. 

As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you. 

Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm. 

The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.

———

Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.

“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.

“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.

Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”

“This.” 

A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.

“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.” 

“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back. 

You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.

“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.

“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”

Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.

“And what else?”

At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.

You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”

———

Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.

She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you. 

That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.

“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing. 

Then it was your turn to gasp. 

Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck. 

She knew just how to make a mess of you.

“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”

“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.

It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.

You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.

And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.

“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”

She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure. 

She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.

“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.

The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.

[al-luviec]

I got so insanely mad while drawing this

+ closeup and normalness

[rikkivoid]

winter kiss

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Just saw Wicked and holy shit if only I could put a fiyero x reader musical number in writing👀

[essektheylyss]

Open, non-exhaustive list of content I would read/watch in a heartbeat about the political situation in Rexxentrum post-Solstice:

One-shot or mini-arc of the Nein going full National Treasure level heist on the Cerberus Assembly records management department before a Ludinus simulacrum can reach the burn boxes

Faux Trump aide exposé-style novel of Athesias Uludan compiling and publishing The Dirt in the aftermath as part of his apology/comeback tour

Colville-run Dirty Dozen one-shot or EXU of Oliver Schreiber dragging some particularly unruly ex-Scourgers out of semi-retirement (read: house arrest) to take Ludinus out once and for all in exchange for full indemnity

Found documents a la Midst appendices of the Cobalt Soul documentation and evidence compiled about the incident

The Archmage: An Autobiography by Martinet Ludinus Da'leth (discovered and published posthumously) [1500 pages and riddled with exaggeration and inaccuracies, the last 20% has clearly been written by AI a simulacrum]

Lorekeeper rundown Youtube video from Dani Carr

Yet another novel: Wildemount's most (in)famous and (un)reliable documentarian smelled a story (Taryon's version)

Literally just a main campaign episode of the Nein infodumping to Allura at a war council meeting with the Hells present. I need this information so badly. I am fucking begging.

This sounds like it runs the gamut in level in terms of seriousness but I would like it stated for the record that I would unhinge my jaw to consume any item on this list.

[edenfire]

💗🏥 Shuake Week- Day 6 - Wound Tending 🏥💗

I've always really liked the idea of goro waking up after the engine room with a bullet wound in the chest. he miraculously survives, and akira has to take him in and tend to him, while hiding him from shido's men😳💦

(also yes, goro is wearing akira's pj pants😌💞)

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

We talk a lot about these men (any CoD man for that matter) talking you through your orgasm. Let me open your mind to the reader, talking them through it.

Lemme cook

Talking him through it H.C.

He's whimpering while you're riding him? You grab his hands and place them on your chest. Smile down at him and say, "It's okay baby, I got you~ I know it's sensitive, but you can hang on, right?"

He's got you on your back, missionary style, legs wrapped around his waist. He's barely able to pull out and it's just a desperate grind of his hips against yours? Wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in close whisper into his ear "That's right, get as deep in my pussy as you can babe, it's yours."

Amazon style fucking him till the point where the head board is chipping paint off the wall? He's trying to tap out? "Come on sweety, you can last more rounds."

You're in the mood to suck his soul right out of his dick? "Sit down, Lovie, let's see if I still have my gag reflex hm?"

You want him to eat you out? "On your knees babe, you're eating out tonight."

He's giving you back shots, hard rough and fast, there's a stutter in his hips he's gonna cum? Start throwing it back on him, over stimulate him and say "good boy, fuck my insides up."

He's got you in a mating press? Leaning down close to you? Ma'am the only thing you need to say is "Babe I don't wanna feel my legs"

IDK 🤷🏾‍♀️ and I'm just saying, we need to write about talking these men through their orgasms.

[missescalientee]

Late to post but this is my first art of 2025!! I made this starting at about 1 am ending at about 4 am, didn't have the energy for the bg but the rendering is p accurate for the scene XD

I need to continue this story and practicing backgrounds, but yeah this is a way future scene from my fic

It's still on Movie 1 but we're getting there lol

Anyway here's to an amazing 2025!!

[captainmaxatx]

I’ve written over 10,000 words of Deadpool and Wolverine fanfiction and Deadpool and Wolverine aren’t even in it

They are however mentioned, and mentioned as “boyfriends” and “partners”

Anyways, when I post this fic on Ao3 should I give it their relationship tag or not?

Cuz on one hand it’s not about them they aren’t even in it

But on the other hand it does mention them as together, and I feel like the people looking for poolverine would also like this

And if I turn it into a series which I want to, they absolutely will be in it and together which is kinda crucial for the rest of the series

[watery-melon-baller]

theres people who only have one ship and people who don't have any ships and multishippers well im inventing a new kind of shipper and it's "all of these people are gay and a little in love with each other but the romance is up to interpretation"

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @tizniz @daffi-990 💖

just a tiny lil snippet of the bucktommy fic before I post it probably later tonight (it's basically almost done, and then I just need a title) ngl this whole fic turned out hornier than I expected but buck is just a baby bi who has his first boyfriend, and I am not immune to how hot tommy is okay 🙈 (buck and I have literally the exact same taste in men and women istg 🤣) i kinda wanted to turn it into smut but I want it posted before the episode and it turned out too long already haha

prev snippet

___

“When you’re ready.” Tommy says, his thumb tenderly brushing against where Buck’s birthmark is.

“Yeah.” Buck nods. “And when I am, I- Well, I bet you can teach me more stuff than just flying or Muay Thai.” he says half-jokingly, referencing the conversation right before their first kiss, when Buck didn’t even realize he was flirting until he thought back on it – which freaked him out, too, because how often did this happen before? Tommy just grins, all confident and charming, and leans in to press a soft but hungry kiss to Buck’s lips. Buck’s insides swirl and dance and make him feel all giddy and floaty. 

“Oh, I can teach you. I’m gonna.” he whispers, lightly pulling at Buck’s lip. Buck almost asks him to stay. Almost tries to bring Tommy closer, and thrust his hips up to make their clothed dicks collide again, wanting to feel that pressure again. He doesn’t, though. Which requires an impressive amount of self-control, if he says so himself.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus @bidisasterbuckdiaz