#and to not have anything else to rewatch in the first place

[gayofthefae]

The camera stays far away with extras passing in front of it while Mike and El kiss but it cuts close in when they hug. Because the friendship is the beautiful part. So it's the only part you need to see.

[them kissing, trust me]

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Will Ms. Piggy go out for her first Halloween?

likely not because i will not be leaving the house either <3

[guhhhhhhhhhhh]

I have to put fresh sheets on my bed and make it but I've just been sitting on my bare mattress for the last 20 mins ranting to myself about this damn show

[bluesidez]

Can I request a Miguel O'Hara x Curvy reader where they both get intoxicated from sex pollen ??

[Sticky-Icky]

lab taster: @waterinthefire 🩻

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Curvy!Reader

summary: He's a lot less irritating when he puts his mouth to better use.

content warning: a PWP but you guys know me (there's a little plot), this is so 18+ that it's crazy so MDNI, sex pollen (or more like Miguel is playing around and doesn't know wtf he's doing), unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾) manhandling, temperature play if you squint, standing 69, facefucking, creampies, wrong use of webs, biting, breeding, spitting, squirting, cunnilingus, fellatio, fluff if you squint...I think that's it. my god.

word count: 4.3k, halfway proofread

a/n: Listening to Sticky by Ravyn Lenae inspired part of this. Also watching several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares, Hell’s Kitchen, and Law & Order: SVU in the bg kept me sane. And one more rewatch of ATSV.

My duty as a fanfic writer is fulfilled as I give you this mandatory trope. 🫡

When you first started working at Spider HQ, you were amazed by the fact that one man was able to create all of this.

It was astounding, beyond what the gray tones of Nueva York could ever present to you.

Now, you think back to your glittering eyes during the first year working here and laugh.

Working for Miguel O’Hara was like squeezing a watermelon through a straw. He was impossible.

Nothing you did was ever satisfactory for him. Something could always be fixed. Sometimes, you wonder why he still kept you employed here.

Currently, he was turning his nose up at a salve you were working on for spiders whose healing time wasn’t nearly as quick as others.

“Run a new test. This batch is no good.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The formula could be better, it’s too thick, and why does it smell like that?”

The scent was similar to one you wore often and a lot of the spider-people that swung by the pharmacy seemed to like it.

“Uh, jade tea.”

The pinch in Miguel’s eyebrows deepened as he sniffed the air.

“Switch it to something else.”

You huffed, already tired of this conversation, “Well, what smell do you suggest?”

“Anything but this.”

“How about lavender, then? Perhaps peppermint.”

“And now, you’re being childish,” Miguel put the tin down before placing his hands on his hips. “You know there’s spider-people who can’t smell too much of that.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

He plopped a giant file on your desk, “Deal with that later. I need you to work on something else. For some reason, villains across dimensions are obtaining access to a substance similar to rapture. Every time there’s a mission, the spider-person of that dimension has been left affected. I need something to subside the effects until we can get them back here.”

“Ok, well do you have the substance with you?”

“No. But I’ll get you something soon. For now, I have a year’s worth of research on rapture. It should be of some use.”

You took the rubber band off of the manilla folder, something so old school for this era of tech.

You saw a line of formulas that started to make your head spin.

“Are there a lot of people affected right now?”

“Only a few. They’ve used the leftover solution I made a long time ago. It’s only going to work for so long,”

“Good. I need to sleep on this.”

Miguel’s head knocked back an inch, “Are you refusing work? The state of the heroes of different universes relies on this research. It’s not some science project-“

“I understand completely, Miguel, but I’m off the clock.”

He stopped and checked his watch, the red six o’clock burning back on him.

“I only work the hours you pay me, Spidey,” you reach to pat his arm and regret it when his stern face doesn’t move.

“Not interested in paid overtime?”

You bit your cheek to stop the laugh from coming out.

“That’s nice and all, but I’ve got plans.”

“Like what?”

“Like resting, sleeping, not touching lab work with a you-sized pole. All of these are things you aren’t familiar with. Plus, I have a date.”

A pause went through the room as you started to gather your things.

“Since when do you date?”

You push your chair under your desk harder than you mean to, “Since when do you care?”

“I,” he follows to the elevator, “care about my employees.”

“Sure, Miguel.”

If it weren’t for your tired state, you would think he looks a little sad at your statement.

“See you tomorrow, then?”

The doors start to close as you nod your head, Miguel’s gaze stuck just above your head.

Weird. Just like his frequent stops to your lab.

The feeling doesn’t leave your gut even as you’re smiling in your date’s face.

One minute, you’re laughing at a story about some amateur skateboarders Downtown, and the next, an electric billboard is being covered in tiny nano-spiders across the street.

“So the guy just takes one step on the board and then he’s flying. A straight line across the park.”

“That’s,” the spiders start to crawl into different lines. Then a logo forms, displaying the spider on Miguel’s suit next to an exclamation point. “So hilarious.”

Your date chuckles then follows your gaze, the silence too long, “Is there something wrong?”

The nano-spiders flipped around, the regular billboard showing like normal. You squint.

“No, I thought I saw something. Must have been my imagination.”

“You did say you were a little tired from work. Should we raincheck? We can always catch a movie another time.”

You wanted to say no, you’d been looking forward to tonight.

The billboard flickered to a little picture of Lyla with “SOS” above her head.

“Yeah, I should probably get going. Sorry about this.”

The way he doesn’t sweat you practically ditching him makes your heart pang. You’re already dreading another night exhausted and alone. Your date seemed promising.

You wave at him from your taxi, the route leading back to Spider HQ feeling like torture. You unclasp your purse and check your gizmo.

40 missed messages.

It’s not until you’re walking into the regular lobby that you turn it on.

“What is so important that you waste Margo’s time to interrupt my time?”

Lyla pops in your peripheral, hands up and wary, “I’m only doing what boss asks! Don’t get mad at me.”

“Lyla, why am I back here right now?”

“Well, Miguel has gotten himself in some particular trouble.”

You punch the elevator button, “Get to the point, please.”

“He went into your lab to try and start the solution he talked about earlier. After his first accident, he’s never had any luck with lab work, so uh. He’s kind of made a mess.”

The elevator moves and you look at Lyla, “What kind of mess?”

The doors open and you can smell it before you see it.

It’s poignant, like perfume soaked roses and patchouli. The scent hits you hard enough to make you grip the metal opening as you come out.

“What exactly did he do?” you breathe out.

Your limbs start to shake, nerves drumming from the inside out. A weight feels like it landed on your core, your stomach twitching as you continued to take in whatever had transpired.

“Something about DNA splicing and plants. I can trace his movements back if you’d like, but I’m also currently trying to figure out how to reverse it.”

“Great.”

You swing open the door to a disheveled Miguel. He’s sweating profusely as he tries to clean up your lab desk.

Before you can even begin to yell he’s fussing, “Lyla, I told you not to call her!”

“But you obviously don’t know what you’re doing.”

He bites his lip as he tries not to look at you, fingers trembling as he starts to store materials back into their drawers.

“Thought you had a date.”

“And I thought I told you stay away from my station,” you feel like a baby deer walking over to him.

When you get closer he sucks in his breath like you cut him, stopping in his tracks.

“I don’t think you should be near me,” he grunts. His eyes are dark, lips swollen with the way he’s biting them.

“What are you talking about? I’m trying to help you.”

You round the corner of the desk, the image of you two almost comical. Miguel moves to the edge of the desk, chest moving faster, while you chase after him trying to get a hand on his forehead.

He felt extremely cold compared to the numbness of your palm, despite how flushed he looked. His eyes close as your hand slides from his head to his neck, muscles there tensing.

“Please. Don’t,” he whispers.

“Who else is coming here to save you?” you ask, frustrated. “What did you do anyway?”

He doesn’t answer as he peers at you. Your heart is beating faster and you can’t tell if it’s because of the air or because of the way he looks like he’s about to climb you.

Every move you made felt like sharp pricks in your skin, the tight material of your dress digging into your hips. It felt like the ends of burning flames and you wanted it off. Your breaths were picking up and you couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on other than Miguel being your cooling solution.

“Miguel,” you sounded like you ran a marathon when all you did was step into his space.

“It’s the shocking formula that I screwed up. That’s why everything feels-“

“Like I need you,” you interrupt. “Like I want you on top of me.”

The insides of your thighs were fighting against themselves to stay together, the urge to let your legs fall around him strong.

“That’s just the chemicals talking. W-we can get somewhere safe and separated.”

You grab the back of his neck and pull yourself even closer, his hands gripping the table like a lifeline as he groans.

“So you don’t want me?” you press against him, caging a knee around him right next to his hand. “You don’t think about me?”

You can almost feel his heartbeat matching yours as you pull yourself up.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t wonder how I feel when you come into my lab snooping around? How I feel when you come in here barking orders?”

Your face is in his neck and you feel yourself clench around nothing as you take a deep breath. He smells like coffee and fabric softener, but there’s an underlying wave of musk. Of something so unbelievably him and you want to keep that scent close forever.

“I imagine you’re annoyed. But a job is a job.”

“But you still come in here asking for things you know someone else can do,” your panties are soaked, and from the way his nose flares, you know he knows. “Why?”

His teeth grit as you start to grind on him, the feeling giving you an inch of relief that only makes you want more.

“I, I don’t- It’s because I,” the counter began to crack under his hands. His muscles were pulled taut. “Dios, ayúdame.”

Maybe you were wrong, and your hazy mind only brought thoughts from the subconscious one.

“Fine. I get that you don’t like me but could you at least give me some type of relief?” you were whining in his ears at this point, a complete 180 of how you left him earlier today. With every grind of your hips, you left noises in his skin, desperate.

The desk made a terrible sound as Miguel finally lets go and grabs around your waist. Your breath is slammed out of you as your back hits the wall, Miguel’s hand holding your head to stop it from crashing into the wall too.

Your throat makes a gargled sound as Miguel licks down your jaw, his talons ripping into your dress. His tongue swipes into your mouth, breaths rapid as he finally gets a taste.

“I do like you. More than I should,” his words were passed right into you. “You and your smart mouth.”

“Then stop talking and do something about it.”

A yank in your hair stops your complaints, Miguel kissing down your side. Every press of his lips left a chilly flutter. Your hips are moving frantically, patience wearing thin. Right as you’re about to say something again, he flips you, the layers of your dress falling as he rips into your panties.

The blood rushes to your head as he takes a bite into your thigh, sucking as your legs fall to his shoulders.

You moan his name, hands gripping at his thighs. His kisses led to your lips, swollen and dripping. From your clit to your entrance, he groaned as he covered you, drinking like you were water in the middle of the night.

You felt like you were going to slip, but Miguel’s arms were looped around your legs, not letting go. His suit was in your way, your mouth salivating as his crotch stared back at you. Your fingers could only dig as far as his suit allows and you have half a mind to call Lyla to disengage it.

“Please,” you sigh as you rub his bulge with your cheek. “I need it so bad.”

“Cállate,” he hums, face delving deeper into you. The sound of him licking up every drop echos off the cool walls and the light of his suit dims away letting you see what you’ve been waiting for.

His length hits your chin, precum spilling down and you’ve never been more excited for a man to go commando. You open your mouth and let your breath hit him as you take a swipe down to his balls.

Miguel’s grunts and shifts his hips back. His tip swerves around your face as he tries to find your mouth without unlatching his jaw from your sex. You help out with the last bit of sanity you have, and once you wrap your lips around him, his hips snap hard onto you.

All you can feel is Miguel entering you from top to bottom, his hands keeping you stationed in your position. There’s no room to do anything as he’s devouring you and taking your breath away at the same time. Two of his fingers sink into you, and you jerk from the difference between his skin and his tongue.

Miguel nibbles at the hood of your clit, urging you to be still. Whenever his fingers leave you, his pelvis fills your senses. Your throat gags around him, spit building to keep up with his thrusts.

“So good,” he hums. His pace picks up and the tears in your eyes fall to the floor. “Made for me. Only me.”

Your fingers wrap around his thighs and squeeze tight, your vision fading as you try to take in pockets of air. The shake in your legs and the broken moans that escaped your lips only ignited him.

“Bebé,” his hips stutter. He’s sloppy as he drools over the entrance, voice loud. “Bebé, you’re so, ngh.”

He cums down your throat, balls twitching against your face. You close your eyes and try to swallow everything, jaw aching. Miguel groans your name as he slides his dick out to the tip, a few spurts still landing on your lips. You cough, position making everything go north.

The taste of him was delicious, but you needed more of him elsewhere. Your mouth was as drenched as your cunt and yet you still felt empty.

When Miguel flips you back upright, you’re ready to pounce on him again. The state of you both is alarming. Your breasts have completely fallen out of your dress, that black thing barely holding on by its zipper. Miguel’s suit is phasing in and out in the most obscene places. There’s slick up to his eyebrows and his cum is all over your cheeks.

He grabs your jaw and runs his tongue over your face, cleaning up his mess. You let him live in his own bubble before that burning in your core came back.

Your nails dig into his shoulders and your whispers of “more” come to light. You’re clawing at him like a cat begging him to do something, anything, to make this feeling go away.

“Miguel,” you gasp as he sinks his teeth into your skin. “Miguel, it hurts. Fix it, Miggy, please.”

You guide his hands down your body and place them on your ass. His touch sates you for only a moment, but your body reacts as if he needs to be deep in your bones. He spreads your ass and groans as the sound of how eager you are for him follows.

“You’re not ready,” are the words that make you even more frustrated. Your hands pushing and pulling at him, ready to try and put him where you want him to go.

He clicks his teeth and flexes his wrists. His webs tie your wrists together, neon red strings leaving a buzz on your skin. He yanks your dress off and you stumble with the motions.

The clinical room doesn’t aid the building heat you feel, but Miguel turning you around and pressing you into the wall as he cuts the rest of your panties off does.

He squats and grabs two hands full of you.

He spits onto your hole, mesmerized as he watches it slide to your entrance. “Qué hermosa,” he whispers.

You bend, whimpering as your folds cover his nose, clenching and grinding.

“God,” you sigh. Something this small was going to bring you to the edge so quickly. “D-don’t stop.”

“Greedy,” Miguel says as if he’s not moving the fat of your ass to nudge his face into you. The arch in your back deepens as he continues and your whines get higher.

He smacks your right cheek, sound echoing off the metal tables, and you shout his name as you coat his tongue.

Tranquility clears your mind for a second, one where the flowery scent in the air is less strong.

The peace leaves just as fast as it came when Miguel gets rid of his suit and stands behind you in all of his glory.

His eyes followed from your dewey face to the curve of your hips to bitten thighs to feet with one heel still on.

“He didn’t deserve to see this,” he says.

“W-what?”

Miguel ignores you and pulls your wrists up straight, a confused noise leaving you. He wraps another web around your ankles and huffs. He sets your arms under your chest, your hands in front of you like a prayer.

When he picks you up by your waist, his dick lines up with your ass.

He groans as he grinds, watching himself disappear and reappear.

You try to move with him, “No, not there. Inside.”

“You’re always so distracting,” he growls. He slides his length between your thick thighs and you nearly scream as his hips hit your ass, his tip just barely passing over your clit. “Can never think straight when I see you.”

He rubbed over the bite he left on your shoulder, “So pretty. My pretty baby.”

His low voice right in your ears only made you wetter. He was holding you like you were his toy, fucking the inside of your thighs with ease.

Miguel could cry watching your ass bounce on his stomach. Your legs were soft and warm and he just couldn’t stop.

“Want you so bad. Need to fuck you again and again and again,” he said as your thighs quivered around him.

“Please, Miguel. Make me yours,” your voice crowded the sound of his grunts as he held you up and pounded away.

Those were the magic words to get him to lean back with a firm grip on you and release all over the wall. It was everywhere, from your legs to the wall to the ceiling.

He set you to the floor with shaky arms, and you started to sob.

All of this and you still wanted more. If this was making you feel this insane, you can only imagine the small relief Miguel was feeling after being exposed for longer.

“C’mere,” he pulls you to the bare floor and cuts the webs. You immediately try to climb him, legs wrapping around his waist.

He was painfully hard for someone who came twice now.

Your cries of “inside” slur together, tears running down your face. Miguel was no better, fangs dripping with venom and the hairs on skin raised.

The two of you tussle as Miguel tries to keep your hips to stay stationary. You kept jerking in order to get some sort of friction but he was baring his teeth to get you to quit.

You dip your nails into his shoulders and arms while he drags a talon down your sternum to snap your bra off.

A clatter of your stiletto sounds off across the room as he pinches your thigh, “Easy, beautiful. Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Fucking hurry,” you whine.

He shushes as he plunges inside of you, the noise you both make as loud as a choir.

Your eyes roll back as Miguel presses, bending your body in half.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel leans to whisper onto your lips.

Tight is the first thing that comes to mind and heat is the next.

He moves his hips up and slams back down, your ass shifting from the pressure.

“Miguel!”

“That’s it. Talk to me.” All of that chatter earlier and now you can barely get out a word.

“H-harder,” your hands don’t know where to go. They’re grabbing Miguel, they’re falling next to your head, they’re grabbing at your breasts as Miguel jerks your body.

Miguel goes to open your jaw, lips pulling on your tongue to suck. It’s tender and sensual compared to the way his balls are slapping against you. There’s a ring of white on his shaft getting thicker and thicker as he continues.

“Pretty thing,” he says as he lets your tongue go, a string of saliva falling to your neck. “Watched you on the cameras. Always.”

That stirs something in you, a spark in your chest as you see stars.

“Did you want to do this to me when you watched me?” you manage out.

“Yes.”

“I can put on a show for you next time.”

“Yes.”

“You can come in here. ‘N fuck me over the counter.”

“Sí, sí, baby,” his hands push your knees next to your head and he ruts against you. His thighs were straining as he took and took.

A yell pulls itself from your core, that burning feeling getting a crash of cold water. The dam bursts and you’re running all over Miguel, essence leaving every time he inches out and back in.

“Gonna fill you up,” he rasps, eyes glazed over.

You nod your head, clenching and pulsing around him.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he shudders against you. You suck him in, gaining a deep moan from him, “Así, bebé. Take it.”

It’s like you can finally think as his cum overflows, your heart rate finally slowing.

He stares at you as you both come back to reality. Your body is limp, the weight of Miguel making itself known.

“Holy shit,” you wiggle and he catches the hint. He lifts a bit and pulls out. The swirl of you two falls out of you in waves. “What. The fuck.”

“God,” Miguel mumbles. “No shocking way we just did that.”

“You can’t say that when the evidence is leaking out of me.”

Miguel groans as he watches you, your face pouty and your hole glistening. It was intoxicating.

His dick twitches, coming to life again the longer he watches.

“‘M sorry in advance,” he says as he pulls you into his lap.

“Just take care of it, O’Hara.”

The two of you sat in the middle of the floor, breathing hard. Pieces of consciousness were starting to come back.

“You looked stunning tonight,” Miguel said. He looked at your shredded dress on the floor. “I’m glad he won’t see you in that dress anymore.”

The snort that leaves your nose turns into a full-blown laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You just took my soul ten times over and you’re worried about a guy I just met less than a week ago. I fear I’m ruined for anyone else.”

“Oh,” he smiles. “Good.”

“You still should take me on a date. You’ve got a lot to explain.”

Flashes of him confessing to his habit of watching you from afar come back, “O-of course.”

“And you owe me a new dress.”

“On it.”

Lyla pops up next to you both, a blindfold over her shades, “Is it safe to talk to you guys now?”

Miguel checks his gizmo, “I think we’re good for about forty minutes. The effects are starting to wear off.”

“Excellent!” She throws the fabric to the side, “Oh my god, this room is a mess.”

You look at the array of substances over the room and grimace. The entire hall will have to be on lockdown.

“Well, I managed to vent out the solution. You two should be ok soon.”

You lean on Miguel’s chest and close your eyes, happy to hear good news.

“Kind of sad that this is what it took for you to confess, Miguel,” she comments.

“Lyla!”

You laugh again, “Some confession.”

“That’s enough,” Miguel scowls.

Your giggles die down as you pull yourself onto Miguel’s thigh, bubbles in your chest molding into moans as you start to grind over his thigh.

“I’m starting to think you guys are just bluffing,” Lyla gags before she disappears. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“I think,” you nuzzle into his neck, “this’ll be the last time. I’m tired.”

“If not, we can take it to my house.”

The world blurs again as you and Miguel connect under the white lights.

Take a shot every time I say breath or breathe 😭. Anywho, as always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

[spitdrunken]

man. still have NOT managed to get my hands on the book of bill because it's sold out literally everywhere over here, but have any of you seen the new 'how not to draw' vid on the disney youtube channel that features bill? it really got me thinking.

notes: fourth wall breaking, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, implied sexual content, implied mind control

it's heavily implied that the video takes place in a world where gravity falls is supposedly fictional, like our own. bill literally says he's going to break the fourth wall! because i'm a sucker for fourth wall breaks and characters being aware of their own fandom (to an extent), i simply just HAD to run with this scenario.

i just like the idea of 'you' being just a person, some totally, in the large scheme of things, insignificant human walking the earth. you have a tendency for escapism, perhaps. you have always been drawn to stories. you like gravity falls. maybe it was something you watched while you were younger and recently rewatched, or an interest that had never waned. regardless, bill cipher, charismatic and unapologetically evil villain that he is, is one of your favourites.

you doodle him on the edges of paper when you're supposed to be doing anything else. (regardless of anyone's artistic skills, it's not difficult to draw a triangle with a top hat and an eye, is it?) and in this world, you are hardly the only one who likes him, who, perhaps, ships himself with him, who thinks about him a lot. who makes drawings and writes or reads fic. you don't think it's all that unusual.

in a stroke of luck or, depending on how you look at it, the exact opposite, the universe's idea of a cosmic joke, you are the one to catch bill's eye. (it's, after all, much easier to infiltrate the dreams of someone who already has you on their mind. makes sense, doesn't it? a tentative, wavering link had been formed already.) there, in your dreams, he tells you what to say--triangulum, entangulum. meteforis dominus ventium. meteforis venetisarium--and the next morning, you remember it clear as a memory.

you do it. for funsies. why wouldn't you? you don't expect it to actually work. he's a fictional interdimensional demon. why would it work? but much to your surprise, and horror, because surely a screw must've gotten loose for this to be happening, one of your little doodles has life blown to it. as a response to your summon, a tiny little bill cipher darts across your paper, alive but still confined.

(you've given him an in. now, he only has to take the crack you've opened for him, dig his fingers in, and tear it open.)

oh, he'll be funny! he'll be exactly what you thought of him. perhaps he even voices a line of dialogue you swore you wrote down somewhere days prior. yes, he's read whatever you wrote or read, whatever you looked at. he's keeping it himself for now. it's not easy to inflate his ego further, but you might have succeeded. rather than a meatbag, bill first looks upon you with the eye of someone presented with a puppy. fundamentally lesser, but capable of being something with the right training.

he urges you to make a deal with him and the promise he'll act out whatever fantasy you've been cooking up in that brain of yours, even if it's gross and weird and physically impossible!

he'll warp your dimension to make all of it possible!!! it's great!!! don't worry about it!!!!!!

…you don't do it. you don't touch the paper. you've seen the show, and you aren't stupid. bill nearly balks. he'd expected you to be the easiest mark of all time, but he suppose he forgot that even puppies have teeth. that's fine. he can work with this. because even though you have not let him in yet, and you refuse to shake his hand through the paper, you don't seperate yourself from him just yet.

you could oh so easily take the piece of paper he's on and throw it in the nearest shredder. or set him on fire. in you, he recognises lingering curiosity, and the excitement at having stood out, at being chosen, in one way or another. it's not hopeless yet.

he can play a bit of a longer game, then. he's been at this for a long, long time. he'll tolerate the paper he's on being folded into a little square and tucked into your breast pocket, granting him a view of your life and the world you're living in. (all the time, his hunger grows.) your decision not to throw him away ends up being your downfall. spending so much time with bill, letting him joke around with you, complaining about your problems… it takes a while for you to realise that, for a while now, he has not been speaking out loud anymore, but instead through your mind.

a connection that cannot be cut has been formed in between two of you.

on bill's part, he had thorougly expected to be bored. but perhaps it's your genuine interest in him, not the things he's offering, which he does not often see. (he's been down this road before. won't end well. but...) the sheer mundanity of your life that makes him wish he could twist and turn it all around. or just a random alignment of the stars. the heart doesn't always follow logic. in this scenario, at some point, bill realises that he has become genuinely invested in you, too. and at that point, you'll never manage to slip away. he's already dug in his heels in your mind far enough. you had no adequate protection.

he still wants to take over your world. he still wants to escape the discomforting flatness of the paper you've summoned him in. but, perhaps, you two could share that meatsack of a body of yours, before things get that far.

[allaboutnayeli]

not over, never over | a.putellas x reader

summary: you and alexia broke up but that doesn't mean everything is over.

author notes: sorry to the blonde british woman fans 💔 alexia won so i had to pull this out. i actually been wanting to write smt for alexia for so long! hope you guys enjoy this 😋

contains: ex!alexia x reader, no toxicity just pure misunderstanding and love in these parts, angst but it's worth it, from lovers to exes to lovers trope, lesbians lesbian-ing, badly translated spanish sorry spanish speaking community 🗣️, inspiration is lyssa & dijonai look at wnba lesbian drama influencing people outside of the league, slow build up.. just vibe

playing let em' know by bryson tiller 🎵

"if that's how you really feel then i'm done!" is the last thing you said to alexia before leaving her apartment. not only her apartment, but the three year long relationship that has been a stable figure in your life since it started. you aren't even sure how the argument that led up to the break-up even started; alexia and you ended up in her apartment after a intense training session. she was irritated, you were irritated. all it took was one wrong move where you complained that there was a lack of warm water after alexia's shower and you two were suddenly spilling out all of the problems going on in-between you two.

how sometimes the spaniard doesn't communicate in the healthiest way, opting to hold everything in until her emotions explode. how you overthink about every little action she does which leads to you misreading the situation and being distant towards her. it was both of yours faults but at the same time no body's fault. everything just happened at the wrong time, on the wrong day, in the wrong moment and the end result is a break-up that neither of you wanted but both of you refuse to take back.

the first few days without alexia feels like pure hell. going into practice and seeing her face everyday is not helping your emotional state. you want to be angry with her but at the same time you feel so apologetic that you can't bring yourself to entirely blame her for the break-up. she may have started the argument, but you continued it and was the one to end it in such a castophic way so you were also apart of the problem.

the other barcelona girls don't notice right away what happened. alexia and you would act friendly with eachother, a little avoidant but friendly. at the end of the day, when you two are on the pitch, feelings need to be pushed aside and football needs to take priority. she's still professional and you are too but there is a sense of distance that even others soon notice.

mapi is the first to say something about it. alexia is over mapi and ingrid's shared apartment, laying on her couch while watching some old euros matches. rewatching the euros from last year before the tournament for this year happens is a tradition mapi and alexia pride themselves on. however, there is a bit of sadness hanging over the usually fun hangout.

"is spain losing again or what? you have hardly smiled since you got here," the tattooed woman says, coming out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. she makes alexia adjust so that she can also sit down on the couch. the way alexia takes a short moment to reply is already worrying mapi.

"what? no, i.." alexia shakes her head before glancing at her friend. she doesn't know what excuse to use; should she just say she doesn't feel well or say it's a family issue? neither would do, mapi can read alexia like the back of her hand. the only person mapi knows better is ingrid which is expected.

before alexia can say anything else, mapi places her free hand on the older woman's shoulder. a knowing smile on her lips as she looks at alexia. there is of course the constant warmth that mapi brings around with her everywhere, in everything. that warmth makes alexia perk up a little. mapi is her bestfriend; venting to her wouldn't be so bad. it wouldn't be bad at all. mapi is not the type to judge, anyone can see that based off her tattoos alone.

"is it about y/n? the last time i saw you two leave practice together was nearly a week ago and that's a long time for you two," mapi says gently, knowing how alexia sometimes needs coaxing to speak her mind.

it's something about hearing your name and mapi's tone and just being near her bestfriend that makes alexia blurt out, "she broke up with me!"

immediately she quietens down, hopefully none of mapi's neighbors cared about or heard that little outburst.

"i mean.. we had an argument then she left my apartment. she said she's done," the blonde sighs. letting out a small laugh at how mapi shifts to pull her into a hug. she accepts it easily, there's no point of rejecting it when mapi already knows what's wrong.

"it's okay, alexia. well.. it's not okay but you know what i mean," mapi says, "sabes que ella te ama."

"por supuesto que lo sé," alexia pulls away from the embrace. she lets out a tired sigh, leaning back into the couch to match the exhaustion in her mind. she could play practice for hours on end without feeling tired but days without you leaves her feeling aimless. three straight years of having you for herself and now you're gone, in that way at least.

"but still she said she's done. i feel horrible for how quick i was to lash out at her.." alexia continues to tell mapi about what happened. how the littlest thing set her off and she just couldn't stop. the argument wasn't even about the shower, alexia had been pent up with emotions for a long while that day. they all just spilled out the moment a tiny conflict happened. the remorse in the blonde is obvious just by her words, but it's not just her tone or what she says. alexia's whole body looks defeated like when she loses a big game.

it's a sorry sight truly. mapi gives her opinion once alexia is finished. saying, "just sounds like you need to communicate better. i think you can work it out with her. muéstrale que lo que pasó fue un error. uno del que te arrepientes."

alexia glances at mapi before looking at the tv screen across from them. the match is nearly over, with spain still losing. she can't even focus on how her nation's men team is being absolute shit when everytime she closes her eyelids, she sees your face. she sees the hurt expression you had when she snapped at you. the way she could see how you tensed up and immediately got defensive but there was this split second where you just looked so hurt. nobody would have caught that slight expression change before you yelled back, but she did, of course she did. she has spent so much time studying your face and your habits and just you that she could describe you so easily, like there is some textbook out there with your name on it. in a way there is; it's sitting all pretty inside of alexia's head.

if only she wasn't such an asshole, maybe all those things she knew about you wouldn't go to waste.

mapi doesn't try to make alexia speak again. instead she just chews on her popcorn and watches the match on screen. alexia would open back up soon enough, when she felt like it.

everyone else figured out what happened when weeks passed and you two weren't acting like y'all usually do. no obviously affectionate teasing or kisses you two think everyone else doesn't see. mapi of course haven't told anyone except for ingrid who isn't the type to gossip, but coming to the conclusion that you two were broken up was easy to get just from your actions.

walking into the locker room knowing everyone knew was driving your anxiety up a wall. would someone say something about it? or would they just ignore it? there isn't some tension between alexia and you.. at least you don't believe it to be. even though you can hardly look at her for more than five minutes before looking away. she wasn't doing any better. yeah, no tension.

you decide to just act like you were unbothered by the break-up. going into the locker room like any other day and just doing what you usually do; and nothing happens. everyone talks to you like normal. you thought someone would point out what happened but then you realized your teammates, your friends are better than that. all the questioning would probably happen later outside of practice.

everybody could see how affected alexia was even though she tried to hide it. she isn't as good at acting nonchalant as she thinks she is. in reality, the other barcelona girls could tell something was wrong with how distant she's being. keeping to herself more, being one of the first to head for the locker room once practice ended and one of the last to arrive. of course nothing affected her performance on the pitch. like always alexia was a force to be reckoned with.

meanwhile anyone who didn't know you. didn't know how deep the relationship between alexia and you ran would think you didn't care about what happened; the furthest thing from the truth. you just carry the hurt around, keeping it to yourself.

"hola hermosa. ¿cómo estás?" you hear from behind you when going to your car after practice. you turn to see salma. the tall girl smiles at you, quick to come closer and sling her arm over your shoulder. pulling you close as she says, "don't answer that. i already know how you're feeling. how are you handling the breakup is a better question."

one moment you were confused on who was talking to you and the next you are in salma's arms. you blame her long legs for how quick everything happened or maybe it's due to how spaced out you were being.

"how do you know i'm dealing with a break-up is the actual question," you say even though you already knew everyone else figured out what happened.

"c'mon, everyone can tell. we just didn't want to make things awkward at practice but aitana sent me to come check up on you," she smiles at you, "it isn't hard to figure out if anyone looks at you and alexia for more than two minutes. i can see it in your eyes."

was it that obvious? of course it was. you have always been thankful for how good your teammates were at figuring things out but right now you really wished you didn't so you could just deal with this on your own.

"alright, whatever. i'm not handling it well at all. i didn't think i would be single right now.." you let out a long sigh and another sigh when you saw the look of sympathy salma was giving you.

"awe, y/n," salma pulls you into a hug. you happily accept it, you have been needing a hug for a while now since you weren't getting any hugs from alexia anymore. it's a little embarrassing to hug in the middle of the parking lot, but whatever.

"can i come over? you can vent all you want. maybe get tipsy, nobody has to know," she says when she pulls away from the hug after a long moment.

you go silent as you think then you nod, "okay."

and that's how you end up on your couch, way more than a little tipsy (you only had two glasses of wine), crying to salma.

"i just don't get it. why wouldn't she stop me from leaving? why wouldn't she reach out afterwards? i didn't mean what i said!" your words are irrational and you know that but the alcohol in your system is just fueling your thoughts. salma is holding you in her arms. she's unsure if she should just outright tell you that it's obvious alexia wants you back or would it be better to just tell you to reach out instead. she goes with the latter; giving you the truth right now about how alexia is low-key miserable without you doesn't seem like the best option. maybe when you aren't tipsy off some wine.

"why don't you reach out? why didn't you? the break-up sounds so out of the blue, i wouldn't believe it if it wasn't for the fact you and alexia are being all weird around each other," salma says.

"we aren't being weird around eachother."

"alexia scored in our last match and you didn't go to hug her like everyone else. you just gave her a high five before we got back to playing. if this was a few weeks ago, you would have been the first to hug her."

salma's accurate reasoning makes you want to roll your eyes and deny, but it's true. alexia and you are at a weird point. haven't not talked once outside of something football related. no texting either, just pure distance. that night when you left you have hoped she would call or text or even talk to you the next day at practice, but that didn't happen. just silence and distance and a "friendly" demeanor that definitely had something underneath. just because you two didn't talk didn't mean there wasn't still chemistry there.

you shrug, looking up at the taller girl, "i might. just nervous, what if she officially wants to be done and never to look back? i just walked out on her." the anxiety in your mind was building back up; the alcohol was not helping.

"she might be, actually, i know she's hurt but that doesn't mean she wouldn't hear you out. it's you we're talking about here," salma looks down at you. seeing the obvious sadness and regret in your eyes makes her frown. it wasn't like you to be so down, your personality wasn't like that.

the emphasis on know makes you feel a little more confident. if salma is so sure and she's looking from the outside in, no emotions clouding her judgement, then it must be true right? the least you could do was try.

"alright, i'll talk to her. i swear." salma smiles at your words, quick to grab your glass and put a small amount of wine in it.

then she smirks at you, "one last drink? it's celebratory."

the last match of the season was an obvious success, an easy win against valencia. all of the barcelona players decided to go out clubbing to celebrate the end of the season despite the fact you all would be heading to mexico soon enough; that doesn't mean y'all couldn't get a little drunk though.

it has been a solid few days since you had that venting session with salma and still you haven't done what you said. it wasn't your fault really, with the season almost coming to a close, you didn't want to have that conversation and possibly make the locker room a weird environment if alexia didn't take you back. salma (and aitana who salma had reported everything you said back to) were against your thinking. firmly pushing for you to just talk to her and figure everything out.

"the environment in the locker room is already weird because we are used to seeing you guys together," is what aitana said when you told her your reasoning, "ella te quiere de vuelta, todos lo pueden decir."

hearing that from aitana had put more confidence in you than before. it couldn't be a lie if salma and aitana believed it, right?

back to the clubbing, you are getting ready at your apartment. everyone has gone back to their own homes after celebrating in the locker room, so they could freshen up and change. you spend way more time on finding an outfit than you usually do; tonight was the night you planned to talk to alexia. having this long needed conversation when you both were sober and not high off of a good season would be best but everyone needs some liquid courage sometimes to pull through, to get what they want.

it's slowly been getting too long since you two last spoke outside of football, the last time you two interacted on social media, and fans were slowly noticing it.

it wasn't a hard task to spot the tension and lack of celebrating on the pitch in-between you two. you vividly remember going on twitter to so many fanpages wondering what's going on between alexia and you. scrolling past each one made you just want to throw away your rational thinking and text alexia right away, but no. you waited until the season ended so here you are putting on a pink halter top and a short skirt that you knew alexia loved, she bought it after all. when it came to jewelry you put on the necklace she left over at your place.

you haven't gone over to her place to get your things and she hasn't either. you noticed that she kept wearing the gold promise ring you bought her, seeing that made your heart flutter every time. you weren't any different, you still wore your promise ring as well and you have been sleeping in the shirts she left over your place every single night without fail.

you take a short while to finish your makeup, just in time as you hear a car honk outside. already knowing it was aitana, you were planning to get drunk tonight or just a little tipsy so driving your car to the club wasn't an option. you grab your purse, making sure you had your phone, before leaving out of your apartment. smiling as aitana waves at you from her car. she giggles when you get in the passenger seat, smile on your lips.

"ready to get your girl back?" she glances at you.

you gasp before laughing, "we're going to the club to celebrate how amazing we were all season. not for some get her back plot."

"it's okay to tell the truth," aitana gives you a teasing smile before focusing her attention on getting out of your apartment complex parking lot and on the street.

"you have been around mapi way too much."

the club is bustling with people as aitana and you step inside. she pulls you towards where the tables all the other barcelona players are at. immediately your eyes land on alexia, she's sitting at a table with mapi, ingrid, marta, and caro. two couples at the table and it would be three if you were over there, if you two were still together.

she's wearing a red tube top and denim shorts that show off her legs. she looks beautiful like always and you can't, don't, stop your thoughts from wandering.

"we're finally here! y/n was taking forever," aitana smiles as you two stop at the table with ona, lucy, and keira. you spot salma sitting with patri and claudia, all of them already having drinks.

"of course she was. we shouldn't expect less from her," lucy laughs as you scoff. sitting down next to aitana, you lean your body slightly on the table. "i bet ona takes longer," you say.

"what did i do?" everyone at the table laughs at ona offended expression. conversation flows freely between you all. nobody has gotten rowdy just yet, with the team still waiting on frido, jana, and a few others to come to the club. your mind strays away from the fact alexia is at the table next to you as you engage in a heated debate with lucy about who is going to win the euros this year.

"don't act like england is a bad team!" lucy says, looking at keira for back-up. the younger woman rolls her eyes, turning to continue to talk to aitana.

"i never said that but they just aren't beating spain this year," you say back. ona immediately jumps in to defend your point, "she's right. i bet spain is going to crush it this year."

"babe, you're supposed to be on my side."

"i am on your side, just not your country's side."

ona and lucy's little back and forth is cut short as everybody else arrives. now it's really time to let loose and party. aitana immediately sends you to the bar to get everyone at the table drinks, you pass by patri and claudia who got up to dance the moment everyone was here. you know a few of your other teammates are dancing right now; frido didn't even sit down before going to the dance floor.

when you left for the bar, you didn't notice the mischievous smile on aitana's lips or how she looked over at mapi who had a mischievous look in her eye. you also didn't notice how alexia wasn't at her table anymore either.

you reach the bar, leaning against it as you wait for the bartender to come over since he's busy with someone else right now. when you look to your right, you have to do a double take because it's a pretty blonde with a red tube top and denim shorts on right next to you; alexia.

she's acting like she doesn't notice that you are right next to her but she could spot you from a mile away. should she say something? her internal monologue was basically full of just "duh of course" and "what if she doesn't even want to talk to you"

both are annoying the shit out of her, so when the bottle of tequila comes she opens it. pouring herself a shot and downs it right away.

"you're eager, huh?" you want to slap your hand over your lips. you weren't planning to speak to her just yet, later on when you had some type of alcohol in your system was the plan.

alexia glances at you. a mix of uncertainty and fondness in her eyes.

she chuckles, "yeah. why don't you get some drinks so you can join me? you did so well during the season.. you deserve it."

the praise makes you feel all warm. way too warm in a club packed with people. you feel hesitant, nervous, unsure of how this would continue. would you two actually talk about what happened or just act like it didn't happen the entire night?

"you did well too," you say before turning to call for the bartender. after you order the drinks, you look over to the spot next to you where alexia was and find that she's gone. you give a quick glance behind you at the tables where the team was at. she's sitting down next to aitana now, half of her table was gone as mapi and ingrid are up somewhere.

"thanks," you say to the bartender. grabbing the drinks before walking back over to your table. alexia smiles at you when you sit down. you smile back.

ona and lucy take their drinks, ona pulling lucy up to go to dance and keira gestures to aitana to get up.

"gracias por las bebidas. ya volvemos, yendo al baño," aitana says, getting up. you give her a weird look; one of pleading for her to stay and not leave you alone with alexia. the blonde gives aitana a weird look of her own.

aitana and keira leave, ignoring you both. you can easily see they aren't even going to the bathroom, but neither alexia and you object.

the table falls into an awkward silence. alexia sips on her drink, this time it isn't a shot but an actual glass. you let your eyes wander before landing on your drink; alexia knows you're trying to avoid her gaze and it's really starting to annoy her. mapi had drilled into her head (it took so many times because alexia is too stubborn for her own good) that you want her back, that y'all are meant to be. the alcohol in her system is really messing with her right now and all she wants to do is to be against you, feeling your warmth.

and you weren't faring much better mentally. you came here to celebrate but to also get alexia back or at least talk about what happened but you can't even muster up the courage to mention it. you have hardly spoken to her.

she's looking at you though, you can feel it.

"i'm going to dance. you should too, bonita," she says before standing up. you don't answer her but you watch her walk away; she can feel your eyes on her.

if this was just a week ago, alexia would be way too nervous to call you that but the alcohol is fueling her confidence and your eyes on her settle any nerves that she had left. however the spanish player was going to let you approach her, so whatever is about to happen can go at your pace; she respects you like that. also she doesn't want to scare you off or piss you off. she just hopes you don't take long because one more drink and she might just take things into her own hands.

you sit at the table, sipping on your drink but you can only watch everybody dance for so long until you get up yourself. remembering how alexia called you bonita makes you finish off your drink, determined to at least try to get her back tonight.

when you go onto the dancefloor you don't go straight for her but decide to dance with salma. somehow she hasn't tired herself out and she happily pulls you close.

"pensé que ibas a estar ocupado hablando con tu novia. ¿cuál es el problema?" she shouts close to your ear, trying to make you hear her over the music. you shake your head, "i'm going to.. i just need more time!"

"bueno, parece que la reina se está impacientando," the tall girl laughs, "she's looking over here at you."

a look of confusion crosses your face before you turn slightly to look behind you and spot her right away. she's dancing with frido but her eyes are focused on you; the spaniard's gaze is intense, calling out to you.

"i'm going to talk to her," you turn to look at salma, "and don't get too drunk, okay? drink some water!" then you move away from her. you barely catch the "okay!" shouted towards you (which you know is a lie) as you make your way off of the dancefloor and towards the bathroom. you need to prepare yourself before approaching alexia.

you step into the bathroom, thankful that it's empty. straight away you go to the sink to look at yourself. what should you say? should you just apologize? you aren't able to go too deep into your pondering as you hear the bathroom door open then close.

"you just keep walking out on me, huh?" the voice of alexia makes you look at the door. there she is, arms crossed across her chest as she looks at you. same intense look from earlier.

"i wouldn't call this instance walking out. i was going to come and talk to you," you say. this isn't how you imagined having a conversation with her, but it's happening so you'll just have to deal with it.

"bueno lo haré. me viste... mirándote y ni siquiera te acercaste a mí," the spaniard walks closer to you and you don't step away, "everyone is telling me that you want me back. are they lying?"

you shake your head, some confidence and a lot of determination flows into your conscience, "people keep telling me that you want me back. are they lying?"

alexia chuckles, "no, of course not. i'm just frustrated. we both came to this club knowing that we want each other but it feels like you are playing games with me."

"games? i'm not. i didn't want to just come over to you and be like be my girlfriend again. i wasn't sure how you felt exactly, just that you wanted me back. i didn't want to rush it," you are quick to say. the words would sound rational to a less drunk version of alexia but all she could think about is that she wished you two talked about this way earlier.

"that's sweet, but i can't wait any longer. i only want one thing."

"what?"

"to be yours."

author notes: this didn't come out like how i expected it to but i don't hate it. hopefully y'all liked it and i wrote alexia okay enough. also this fic is so long, so like cliffhanger or part two?

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Johnny x fem!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Vaginal fingering. Praising kink.

| wc: 2.1k

| aurora's note: so about that dream i had... @botchedbrat

When Johnny left the house, he looked very dapper. Of course he had someone at the apartment to do his hair and his make up, and there was a designer there to help him put on his suit which he would return the following morning; But regardless of the amount of people filling up your living room, Johnny made sure to grab you by the waist in front of everyone— While you were still in your pajamas— and he pressed a passionate kiss against your lips then he muttered, “I’ll see you later,” before he and everyone else left. He looked quite good. The outfit wasn’t anything too special since it was a run of the mill black suit and tie… But Johnny was growing his hair out again for you, just like he promised, since he knew how distraught you were when he cut it short for the Walk era. He looked young again, like when you first met and he still had time to sleep.

“I left my card on the kitchen counter for you,” he texted twenty minutes after leaving. You sighed. Of course he snuck out without his credit card, because he knew that if he offered to pay for dinner while he was still there, you would’ve denied him and argued with him until he was late for the award show he and Doyoung were attending. “Love you.”

You tsked after retrieving his card from the counter so that it wouldn’t get lost. Johnny would be furious if he came home and you still hadn’t ordered food for yourself, or even if you did order it but with your own money. He trapped you. Dickhead. He knew he looked good, so he let your lingering stares at his ass distract you from his sneaky plan. So you surrendered, plopping on the couch and scrolling through food delivery services on your phone ‘til you found your favorite chicken place which also had tteokbokki and mini sausage links drenched in gochujang. You made sure to order enough so that by the time Johnny was home, the leftovers would be in the fridge for him to snack on if he wanted— Actually, he didn’t have a choice, you were going to make him eat some of it so that you felt less guilty about spending his money. Diet or not diet, you were going to stuff a sausage link down his throat if you needed to.

While eating dinner, you watched the award show on the TV in the living room. Johnny and Doyoung had to go up to accept an award on behalf of all of NCT 127, and you couldn’t help but grin at Johnny’s clumsiness. For as attractive as he was and the amount of confidence he had while performing, he really didn’t know how to act on live TV sometimes, especially when tons of members were missing from his side. He wasn’t used to being alone up there. But Doyoung came to his rescue and picked up the slack where Johnny was too dazed to remember who to thank and in what order.

“Congratulations, nae sarang,” you texted shortly after the ceremony ended and the celebrities began making their way out of the venue. You put the leftover food away as planned. “Dinner’s in the fridge when you get home.”

Johnny replied to your first text with a heart emoji followed by a formal, “Thank you,” and he replied to your second text with a thumbs down emoji. Silly old man. He thought he had a say in it, cute.

In an attempt to stay up late to welcome Johnny home, you dipped into the tub for a bath while watching idol news about the awards, rewatching clips of Johnny and Doyoung walking the red carpet together, acting cute, teasing each other, giving into the fanservice a little bit. He really did look good. You were relieved too that he was feeling better recently, that he was able to catch up on rest in the night and had something to keep him busy all day while he was at the office practicing for their upcoming concert in January. Slowly but surely life was getting back to normal for Johnny.

“What’re you still doing up?” Johnny asked as he slowly opened the bathroom door and peeked his head in. He was still wearing his suit but had removed his jacket at some point between the end of the award show and finding you pruning in the bathtub.

“I was waiting for you.”

Johnny smiled. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him to trap the warmth inside so that you wouldn’t get cold. “How did I do?” He gestured to the TV where they were replaying the entire ceremony now.

“You fumbled a bit.”

“I’ll give you your well-earned fifty dollars later.” Both of you laughed as he sat on the edge of the tub.

You ran your wet hand over his dry hand that kept himself propped upright. “You look very handsome, nae sarang.”

“And you look very pretty, nae sarang.”

The way he said it was very teasing. It left little to the imagination about what he wanted because of the way he was staring at your body that was concealed under the soapy bubbles of your warm, comfortable bath that you were relaxing in. Even as if it wasn’t obvious at that point, Johnny really hit the idea home when he sat up straight then began undoing his cufflinks, setting them to the side on the countertop, then rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. When he leaned in to kiss you, one of his hands slid over the top of your bare knees that were sticking out of the water.

“You can’t get your suit dirty,” you muttered between kisses.

“I won’t.”

Slowly, his hand slid down your thigh, pushing your legs apart to make room for him to dip his hand under the water while his fingers drifted over your skin until he made contact with your clit. Both of you moaned in unison. He must’ve been surprised that you were wet, but what he failed to recognize was that you were lazily playing with yourself to the thought of him in that very suit just before he got home. Skillfully, Johnny pried your legs open further with just his one hand between your legs since the other reached to hold the back of your head in order to keep you pressed against his kisses. Neither you nor Johnny said anything as he circled your clit slowly. Having him touch you felt leagues better than whenever you would touch yourself, so you enjoyed it by relaxing further into the tub with a grin plastered to your face.

Johnny adjusted himself so that he could flip his wrist over in order to aim two of his long fingers at your entrance while his thumb continued to toy with your clit. “What did you get for dinner?”

“You’d know if you ate the leftovers I put in the fridge for you.”

“I’ll eat later.”

You bit his plump bottom lip. “Fried chicken.”

“From your favorite place?”

You nodded— However, a gasp left you unexpectedly as he finally started pushing his two fingers into you. Johnny chuckled when you grabbed his wrist. He wasn’t going anywhere… He had no intention of pulling away, leaving you high and dry, desperate for an orgasm. After all, you deserve only the best after he’d come home to the best gift in the world, something far better than an award that would go into the company’s trophy case. He had you, naked, purposefully waiting up for him all night just so he could find you like that.

His two fingers worked cohesively to thrust in and out of you for a few minutes. The way he hit certain sensitive parts, deeper parts than you could hit, all while his thumb continued to circle and flick your clit in unexpected ways in order to keep you on your toes, it had your head spinning; however, Johnny’s hold on the back of your neck made it so that you couldn’t escape him. Water sloshed in the tub as he quickened his pace.

“So fucking pretty,” he moaned, sticking his tongue into your mouth in order to fight for dominance in your kiss. You willingly gave it up to him. “So tight, too… How haven’t I stretched you out yet, hmmm? Do I need to fuck you more often. Is that it?”

You replied by kissing him harder and pulling his wrist closer to your body to indicate that you wanted him to go deeper and faster. The bathwater was up to his sleeve now, but he didn’t care that his clothes got wet and soapy— All of his focus remained on you and the way that you were slowly falling apart the closer you got to your orgasm.

“And what if… I said… yes?” you replied, holding back a series of moans so that you sounded a little less pathetic than you actually were.

“Then I can fuck you ‘til your legs stop working.”

Both of you grinned again. Johnny’s body twisted again, though he nearly slipped into the tub in the process because he was trying to find another better angle in order to get his fingers even deeper into you, despite the fact that his elbow was dipping in and out of the water. Johnny hovered his body over yours. It was similar to if he had been on top of you in bed or fully in the tub with you. Honestly, you wished he would have fallen in. Maybe then you could’ve gotten more than just his fingers— But his fingers still felt fucking good.

“John,” you croaked, thrashing slightly.

“Close, baby?”

You nodded. “Please.”

Johnny’s lips hovered teasingly over yours. “Ask nicely.”

You pouted at him, but that only made Johnny chuckle and lean in some more so that he could bite your bottom lip. Ask nicely. Fine. He was still keeping up with his pace, so it wasn’t like you could stall any longer because you were on the brink, and every wasted moment that you didn’t give into him was a second closer to you tipping over the edge without permission.

“Please let me cum for you,” you breathed into his mouth with a smile.

Johnny moaned and kissed you again. Your free hand surfaced from the water so that you could play with the end of Johnny’s hair on the back of his neck. You held each other as close as possible. His thumb pressed against your clit harder. His fingers curled directly into your sweet spots.

“Cum on my fingers,” he whispered sensually.

So you did. While squeezing his wrist desperately and bucking against his fingers as they continued to curl into your g-spot, Johnny held your neck steady to make sure you didn’t hit your head on the tub as you rode out your high. Johnny scissored his fingers open at the same time you squeezed around him… It felt like heaven. It took all the energy out of you within an instant. All of that pent up neediness that you had since he grabbed you by the waist to kiss you goodbye before the event finally seeped out of your body as Johnny’s fingers retreated slowly.

“You okay?”

Sitting up, you nodded.

“Good.” Johnny pulled his hand out of the water and let go of the back of your head so that he could unbutton his shirt. “At least it’s just water.” His sleeves were soaked, and parts of his chest were wet from the splash-ups that happened against the walls of the tub during the peak of your orgasm. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You sank back into the water with a pout. “You need to eat dinner.”

“I will, I promise.”

Johnny threw his dress shirt to the side then reached back into the water to unclog the tub. In the time that the water drained, Johnny wiped your pout away with his thumb and a giggle before he reached to help you stand so that he could dry you off with a towel, then he offered out a hand for you to take as you carefully stepped out of the tub so that you wouldn’t slip. The suit wasn’t just for show, Johnny really was a gentleman.

“You got it?” he checked with you as you held the towel up and started walking out of the bathroom.

“Yeah. Go eat, for my sake.”

“Anything for you.”

After a quick peck on your cheek, Johnny walked towards the kitchen, and you went in the opposite direction to get dressed in your pajamas again.

taglist: @theycallmesya @tiredlittlevirgo @henderysposts @trash-number-one

[thefreakandthehair]

a little fluff for @starrystevie's birthday! hope it's the absolute best day! ✨

Eddie misses Steve.

It's equal parts cute, and maybe a little pitiful because it's only three days in Chicago for his friend's Bachelor Party, but it's already been two days and he misses Steve. Bandit digs his claws into Eddie's thigh as he makes biscuits and begs for pets, curling up comfortably next to Eddie's lap and leaving Steve's side of the couch overwhelmingly cold and empty.

"I know, kid. I know," Eddie coos, scratching their cat behind the left ear as he purrs.

He's glad that Steve had been able to get the time off from work to go, and he's glad that Steve's made friends on his recreational basketball league, and he's not jealous. At all. Not even a little bit.

... Okay, maybe he is a little bit jealous that Brandon gets to see him sweaty and gross in the June heat, running around doing whatever jock-activity they've planned in the backyard of their rented house all weekend, but who can blame him? Steve never gives him a reason to feel insecure so he knows this isn't about Steve. It's not rooted in anything even remotely related to him or their relationship— it's all about Eddie and the nasty voice in the back of his head that pulls out a bullhorn and screams not good enough on a loop.

Condensation from the beer in his free hand drips down his wrist as he rests his elbow on the arm of the couch. It's not the first time he's felt this way, and Steve himself has admitted to feeling the same way from time to time, so he knows that it'll pass. He just needs to focus on something else: DND campaign planning, sketching, writing, cracking out the ol' guitar. He could rewatch Howard the Duck for the hundredth time, or maybe even Labyrinth—

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Eddie's phone buzzes on the coffee table and he fully expects it to be Gareth or Jeff, or maybe Robin. They have plans later that night, both of them missing Steve and all. What he doesn't expect is a series of text messages and 19 photos from Steve.

How funny. It's been five years since they'd become EddieandSteve but seeing Steve's name and smiling photo on his phone sets his little hummingbird heart aflutter even still.

steve 👑: it's so goddamn hot here steve 👑: we're playing cornhole now and just threw a football around steve 👑: sweating all the beer and vodka out as a I go, that's healthy, right? don't worry, I'm drinking a shit ton of water.

Steve includes a selfie of himself, smiling closed-lipped with a baseball cap on backwards and the neck of his tee-shirt drenched in sweat. Eddie wants to lick him dry and that's a thought he'll never tell a living soul, probably not even Steve. No, no definitely not Steve. He'll never live that one down.

steve 👑: oh, and fishing was good! we made some bets on who could catch the most and then who could catch the biggest. I tied for first place for the biggest and I caught 17. brandon got 20 so he won that bet. I'm only letting it go because it's his bachelor party lmao

Eddie swipes to the next photo, one of Steve and Brandon holding their two biggest catches. Steve's sunglasses are sliding down his nose, no doubt from the sun warming his glistening skin, and he's smiling wide against the railing of a boat. As much as he misses him, Eddie can't help but mirror his smile. Call him lovesick or 'down bad', as Robin says, but seeing Steve happy makes him happy.

He continues swiping and reading the little blurb attached to each photo, some of which don't even include Steve but Eddie appreciates them all the same. They don't include Steve, but it feels a lot like Steve trying include Eddie in the weekend. The last picture is one of the entire group, all dozen or so guys lined up on the ship. Brandon stands in the center surrounded by the rest of the group with Steve shuffled in no meaningful spot but to Eddie, Steve is the center of every photo, every moment, everything.

Eddie starts to type a response when his phone dings again. This time, Steve sends a voice message and Eddie presses play so quickly, he nearly knocks poor Bandit off his lap.

Hey, takin' a break from cornhole. I won, by the way, had to make up for losing to Brandon in the fishing bet.

Steve laughs and Eddie's stomach flips. Robin's right. He's down very, very bad for this man.

But I just uh, I miss you, and I know maybe that's sorta lame but I do. The party's great and all, but I can't wait to get back home tomorrow. Tell the kid I said hi. I love you, Ed.

He replays it a few times and shamelessly taps Keep so it doesn't disappear before sending his own voice message.

It's no more lame than me sitting here with Bandit sharing how much we miss you, so you get a pass. I mean, you get a pass on everything all the time, but don't let that go to your pretty head, okay? I'm so fucking glad you're having fun and sowing your jocky oats, but selfishly, I can't wait for you to get home. I'll make it worth your while.

He huffs air through his nose and laughs low in his throat.

Oh, and Robin's coming by in a little bit so I'm gonna grab a bottle of wine. Don't be surprised if you get a FaceTime call later. I love you too, Stevie. So goddamn much.

Eddie sure does miss Steve, but it stings a little less knowing that Steve misses him, too.

[3uthym1c]

🎀: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

𝗣𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝟭

Have you ever considered getting a pet?

Take better small breaks.

If you know you'll be on your phone for a lot more than the five minutes you intended for it to be, then do something else.

Rewatch shows you used to enjoy.

Sleep early and wake up early.

Journal. It could be even one sentence a day. Try to write down what dreams you've had.

Everyday try to write the moonphase of the day as well. After a few days of doing this, I noticed that I tend to write a lot and get a lot done during the waxing & waning gibbous phase.

Have at least a bit of alone time each day.

𝗣𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝟮

Get a hobby that includes making things by hand. Whether it be making jewelry, drawing, painting, sewing, etc.

Go to a place near you that has a hiking trail or is full of wildlife.

Make a list of your top 5 - 10 values and one positive characteristic you would like to have / be better at (example: gratitude, kindness, etc).

Cry it out. Or just let it out in other ways.

Having a stuffed animal is not childish.

Find a way to enjoy meals a bit more

𝗣𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝟯

Before looking in the comments of any post (especially a tiktok), make your own opinion first.

Are the self depricating memes and jokes you like to look at online really helping you cope? Or are they just reaffirming negative thoughts about yourself to your subconscious mind?

Like literally just stop saying negative things about yourself. Plain and simple.

Try to make this winter as un-tiring as possible by surrounding yourself with a bit more light and getting up and moving around much more. It'll beat the sluggish mood for sure.

Trust your gut feeling.

𝗣𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝟰

Before you pick a decision that is going to really affect your life, take a nap or sleep on it. Then make the decision.

Treat yourself to really nice restaurants every once and a while. Take yourself on a date.

Open a window and sit in the sunlight on the floor (best experience ever)

Actually get serious about your manifestations.

Also ask yourself what you want in life (can't be anything physical like items or appearance)

It's time to get serious about your life in general. Do one thing that will get you closer to the life you want to live, even if it's something as small as flossing your teeth.

Change up where you put your bed / what side you sleep on

Thank you so much for reading this!

[absolutebl]

10 BLs That Shook Me

@trribledelight asked for "BLs that made you think or learn smthg or shook you culturally? Eg the political considerations in Not Me..."

Let's get the rough ones out of the way first, shall we?

1 2gether

Green. One of the most egregious reps for punching down humor against femmes in BL (and there sure are a lot out there). Seriously GMMTV? Must you?

At the time we all watched this because there wasn't anything else to watch, and it's been a long time since I bothered with a rewatch, but Green is one of the reasons I just can't with this series.

I'm not knocking the actor, but the character and how the other characters behave around him, and the director with regard to this aspect of the plot and portrayal was rough going.

What shook me was how casually homophobic 2g was. It was just so odd to watch a gay romance gloss over and degrade queerness. I was like, wait, aren't they supposed to me on our side?

(Ah, the before times.)

2 Fish Upon the Sky

Shall we address the head wrap in the room? This BL has some of the most shockingly racist content I've seen in a long time. Also punching down humor. I fast forwarded through it and I still don't want to think about it. GMMTV should be throughly ashamed of themselves... Again. I was shook, but in a bad way.

Okay, now for the ones that shook me in a good way.

3 Until We Meet Again

I watched this early in my Thai BL journey (while it was airing) and I had no idea what to expect. Frankly, you could watch it now and still not know. It's just very unusual for a Thai BL.

The plot twist about how they each ended up reborn. Just so brilliant. I still can't get over it. So simple. SO CLEVER. So punishing for the families.

Fantastic!

4 Secret Crush On You

This one kinda shook me all along but that Daisy & Touch scene. It lives on in my head rent free forever. Just because it was so beautifully sweet and genuine and kindly towards a femme character.

I still don't like this BL.

But I love that scene in it.

5 My Beautiful Man

I went on a JOURNEY with this show. Mostly because I didn't think Japan had it in them to land something this complex. But they managed it beautifully by not shying away from the delicious messy ugliness of it all.

Possibly the greatest final episode in all BL.

And from Japan. Usually so bad at endings.

I remain gobsmacked.

6 Unknown

I shouldn't have been shooketh by this one but I really was.

The style of it while staying so down home and gritty.

How old school Chinese BL it felt yet it still managed to be very modern BL about it.

The execution and quality of the acting.

How it was aired (available in YouTube?! we NEVER get that from Taiwan!)

Also the pair branding. We haven't gotten this level of pair brand from the leads in a Taiwanese BL since SamYu.

I'm was absolutely riveted by everything about this show and its production.

I loved seeing it. I hope we get more BLs like this from Taiwan as a result.

But I ALSO hope they realize that a big factor in the popularity and the success of this show was in distribution.

It's what's for dinner.

Along with the stepbrother trope.

KOREA'S SUPRISES

I watch a lot of Kdramas as well as BL, and have done for a really long time. I'm riveted by Hallyu, from an entertainment industry perspective (what I wouldn't do to get my hands on some of their proprietary data). I also listen to a ton of Kpop.

Therefore, Korea dominates the P'ABL gets shooketh list because I had (and have) more expectations firmly in place around Korea's media product sfyle than anyone elses. Even before they started to make a big play into the BL scene.

My favorite BLs from Korea, like Semantic Error and Light on Me are EXACTLY what I expect from them, manufactured perfection. But I was also shook more times by Korea than other BL nations because I had such rigid expectations.

7 Color Rush

Yeah yeah. But it starred an idol. It started out pretty and stiff and everything I was expecting and then the concept hit me up side the head and I never recovered from the CLEVER of this show. I'm not used to my Kdramas or my BL being this high concept and SMART about their sanitized perfection.

8 Blueming

What with the 8th Sense and others since, Blueming seems to have been somewhat forgotten about. But at the time, I was shook by the down home grit of this show. By the actual pain from the characters. By the higher heat concept. By Korea actually going THERE.

And then these babies came along...

9 The 8th Sense

I just didn't think Korea had it in them. Yes, I realize now that it was a bit navel gazey, and we were weighted heavily towards the seme and his pain. I would have liked a better balance between the leads, but that's in retrospect.

At the time I couldn't believe it. A KBL dealing with mental health?

And can we talk about those sex scenes? How insanely comfortable the actors were with each other? How easy in each other's personal space? I've not seen anything else quite like that from Korea. It's super rare. I had assumed they, culturally, just didn't do casual intimacy, or if they did, it wasn't allowed on screen.

Of course now I know the CAN do it, I want more.

10 Love for Love's Sake

Okay, lots to unpack with this one. A genuine isakai BL, in the original sense of the term. The death twist didn't shake me up, but the execution, acting, open gayness, and a couple other things did. Enough to make me still think on this show with fond surprise and affection, despite its undercurrent of darkness.

I like to be shooketh.

(source)

[awearywritersworld]

Ryomen Sukuna x Reader summary: you're cuddling in bed with your very sleepy boyfriend, except he's not exactly your very sleepy boyfriend w/c: .75k tags/warnings: somewhat suggestive but not smut. praise. "good girl" but no other reference to gender. fluff. "kitten" i can't help myself. aged up!yuuji a/n: idek! wrote this in an attempt to get inspired and to let everyone know im still alive, kicking, and most importantly, suffering from sukuna brain rot. currently rewatching so this is brought to u by s1e4. masterlist

Your favorite place to be, even after all this time, is Yuuji's arms. His embrace is warm and inviting, and it never fails to put your mind at ease, even with Sukuna in the picture. You've known him for as long as you've known Yuuji, but his snide, snarky comments never deterred your love for his vessel.

Though, after many long months, his commentary became more... unassuming? At least when you were around, anyway. The first time it happened, you'd asked Yuuji if he knew where you left your phone.

"It's on the couch," another voice answered.

You and your boyfriend stared at each other with raised brows before your eyes shifted down to ever abiding mouth on his cheek.

"What?" Sukuna actually grumbled before disappearing.

It's been a while since then. You're resting against Yuuji's chest, his arm snaked around your waist, his breathing deep and steady. Sleep nearly overcomes you, but his chest vibrates with words you're not quite able to make out and it just barely tugs you back to consciousness.

You hum drowsily, your hands grabbing at his sweatshirt in a weak attempt to pull him nearer.

"That's it," he encourages, drawing you impossibly closer.

The small noises you make as you situate yourself have the man exhaling just a little more harshly than before.

"Want me to praise you?" he offers, a sly edge to his voice. It's only then your mind registers that something is... off. This voice is more intense than the one you're used to. "It's obvious you like it when the brat tells you what a good girl you are."

Your eyes snap open, the top of your head nearly colliding with his chin as you pull back from him. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you're unable to help the small gasp that passes your lips as you take in your boyfriend's changed appearance.

"W-What the hell, Sukuna?"

There's a lazy smirk on his face and his hand settles on your hip like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"He's right, you know."

"What are you even on about? It's too late for this shit" you remark, free hand rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to wake yourself up.

Despite Sukuna never having randomly appeared before, you're not intimidated. Well, not terribly so, even if the man before you is of infamous legend. These days his voice is a constant in your life and that keeps you from registering the possible (probable?) danger of your current situation.

"I was trying to tell you how pretty you are."

"Oh," you squeak out, warmth creeping from your neck toward your cheeks. He chuckles, but you're uncertain whether or not he's teasing you.

His fingers trail up your waist, his touch just barely grazing the skin there before catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Hm, and so sweet too." His thumb extends to brush against your bottom lip.

The contact leaves your stomach swirling with one too many emotions and your hand reaches up to his bicep, as if the action might stop anything else from being said or done.

It doesn't.

He moves his arm from your grasp, but only so that he can wrap his fingers around your wrist. You finally meet his lidded gaze as he brings the inside of your wrist to his lips, peppering a few light kisses there. "So that means you're a very good girl, don't you think?"

His tone is even and low, unfeigned in a way that makes you shudder. The whole situation has you shifting restlessly and averting your gaze.

"Why are you...?" Your voice is barely above a whisper and you're incapable of figuring out a way to describe what was happening at the present moment.

He takes a few seconds before answering, studying how you've pulled your bottom lip between your teeth with a furrowed brow.

His voice quiets to match your own. "Is Yuuji the only one who can concern himself with your happiness?"

You attempt to mask the surprise that threatens your features, but still glance up at him with widened eyes. A momentary silence falls between the two of you and there's an air of suspense to it.

"I never said that."

That must be answer enough, as he tugs you back to his chest once more. You let him envelop you with ease and tangle your legs between his.

"Then stop worrying and go back to sleep, kitten."

[sankta-wraith]

One thing I think is really important when it comes to understanding Daemon and Rhaenyra's relashionship is the fact that Daemon doesn't show his love through words, he does it through actions. Quite frankly I'm not sure he knows how to verbally express love. He can't support her emotionally, but he can still do other things for her.I think this is shown really well in season 1 episode 10 and season 2 episode 1.

When Rhaenyra learns of her father's death and the Green's usurpation of her throne, she goes into premature labor almost imediatly, so there is no time for her to start planning her bid for the Iron Throne. Daemon takes the liberty of starting to plan the beginings of the war, and in doing so leaves Rhaenyra to endure childbirth alone. There is a very memorable scene in which Daemon schemes with Rhaenyra's small council at the Painted Table, whilst Rhaenyra screams in the background, even calling out for him at one point. Daemon makes no move to go to her and simply continues to plan a war, at least until Jace informs him that Rhaenyra doesn't want anything done until she is able to join them. Even then he does not join her. He goes to threaten two members of the Kingsguard with Caraxes, so as to ascertain that they will remain loyal to Rhaenyra. Now, when I first watched this scene, I, and probably everyone else, assumed that Daemon was taking the opportunity provided by Rhaenyra's premature labor to seize control and have the war start on his terms. Rhaenyra also seems to believe this, as when Jace inquires about Daemon's wherabouts she says "Off planning his war." However, upon rewatching that episode, I think that think that Daemon refusing to attend Rhaenyra in her labors and instead planning a war for her, is actually his way of trying to help her. Daemon is thinking that, while he does not know how to comfort her, and hold her hand, and help her through childbirth, he does know a thing or two about war. In his mind, he's essentially saying something along the lines of "I cannot help you there, so let me remain here where I am of use to you," because, as I said above, Daemon expresses love through his actions, not his words. I think at least part of him wants to be there for Rhaenyra, but he just doesn't know what he can say or do that would help her, so he focuses on what he can do: getting the council together and starting to plan, so that when Rhaenyra comes back he can show her that he's done something of use.

Then, when the child is stillborn, Rhaenyra once again needs comfort and reassurance that Daemon just does not know how to give. There is a scene of them, standing in front of their daughter’s funeral pyre, and you can see him give her this very concerned look, and kind of glance over like he wants to say something, but he doesn't, because he just does not know what he's supposed to say. Then Ser Erryk (or maybe Arryk, I can never remember,) arrives with the crown, and Daemon is relieved because he might not be able to offer her kind words, but he can be the one to put that crown on her head. A gesture that is even more meaningful if you consider how much he wants that crown. By being the one to physically place the crown on her head, he is telling her "I'm sorry that I can't be there for you, but I love you and I will support you." Then they go back to the war council, and Rhaenyra is asking about their numbers, and Daemon is the first one to speak. He starts talking almost before Rhaenyra finishes asking, he seems almost eager (even though their numbers are nothing to be eager about,) because she's finally asking him for something he can give. This is his chance to show her that, even if he cannot be there for her emotionally, he can still do this. He can organize this war and help her win, and do damn good job of it. This is really how Daemon says "I love you."

Then fast forward to 2x01, and Luke is dead, and Rhaenyra once again needs a level of emotional support he's simply not equipped to give, only this time, there is nothing else he can do to help her. He tries to convince Rhaenys to fly to Kings Landing, but she refuses, so he can do nothing except sit around, helplessly, while Rhaenyra mourns. Then she comes back, and he tries to be supportive, by asking if she "found what she needed," but she doesn't answer him. Instead, she declares that she "wants Aemond Targaryen." In Daemon's mind, she has essentially told him that to comfort her, he must have Aemond killed. So he uses his contacts in the City Watch to arrange it. I think one of the reasons he gave Blood and Cheese such vague instructions as to what to do if they can't find Aemond, is because he needs something for Rhaenyra. He can't be helpless any more. (Note: I am in no way condoning Blood and Cheese, or saying that Daemon did the right thing. I am simply trying to understand him and his choices better. Please dont come after me.) But then it fails. Catastrophically. And not only has Daemon failed to help Rhaenyra, he has made things much worse.

So he goes to Harrenhal to get the support of the river lords. But, so far, he has achieved next to nothing. (Obviously he's been busy with the hauntings and home renovations.) But he will not admit to Rhaenyra that he's failing miserably, so he ignores her ravens and sends none of his own. (I don't believe any of the bullshit Ryan Condal is trying to spin about him betraying her.) Because he will not go back to Dragonstone empty handed. Because to Daemon, that would be like telling Rhaenyra he doesn't love her anymore.

[clementineofmine]

I'm sitting here rewatching Tua S3 for reasons, and one interesting thing I picked up is that the entire season is really just each of the Umbrellas struggling to define and searching for family in their own way. Here's me laying down some thoughts for y'all:

Luther - For him, family has always been about the team. That's part of the reason he's so drawn to the Sparrows, bc at first they seem to have the cohesiveness that the Umbrellas lacked. Remember, Luther was the last one left at the Academy, then Reginald sent him to the moon alone. So of course seeing a "functional" team is going to be compelling for him, and he desperately wants to be part of it. And then he and Sloane quickly fall in love and for the first time in his entire life, someone wants him for him. It's intoxicating and utterly consuming NRE that is more powerful than anything he's ever felt.

Diego and Lila - For these two, it's about figuring out how to be a family. Both together, but also a little bit with the other Umbrellas. Diego looking out for Allison and Klaus and Lila and Five coming to a truce are part of this - more about Lila and Five in a sec.

Allison - In her mind, her family is Claire and Ray. This one is obvious, but I also think that the writers did us a disservice by not letting us into Allison's perspective. If you think about it, it's completely normal for a parent to put their child above all. While I don't defend her actions, her motivation could have been more compelling and it would have strengthened her character. But sadly she's the character on the show that is most "othered" (which is bad for many reasons)

Klaus - he really dug deep into individual relationships w family, starting with Five (e2 and 5 Five and Klaus bonding are still some of the best bits of the season imo), Diego, Reginald, Sparrow Ben, and then Luther in the afterlife.

Five - Five remains a pragmatist. His bar for family is very low - success for him means the Umbrellas being alive, no matter what the personal cost or sacrifice to him or to some extent others. It is somewhat depressingly delightful to see how he makes his peace with the end of the world as the season progresses. Before that, however, I'd like to meander back to e3 and 4 where Lila convinces him to electrocute himself and then they go on the Commission mission. Both of the actors do a fine job here bouncing back and forth between witty banter and genuine emotion and I love it. It's a quick and subtle piece of dialogue when Five explains how he saved Lila from the Handler. The undertone is that they were both abused by that woman in a similar way - ultimately, she developed and kept them both as pawns in her own game. And I think Five, starting in S2E10 and fleshed out through S3, develops genuine empathy for and eventually acceptance of Lila as family, as one of them, because of this shared experience.

Viktor - Like Viktor in all seasons, he continues to feel out of place with the Umbrellas and compensates by over-prioritizing his relationships with others. Don't get me wrong, I do empathize with him that he lost real love with Sissy and Halan, but I also think Allison was 100% valid to call him out on his lying in E6, and it was on point to verbalize how the constant focus on Viktors pain minimizes her (and everyone else's) experience. (Edit to add: Viktor finally seems to get the message on this, after being called out by Allison, then subsequently both Sparrow Ben and Five, and spends the last few episodes trying to make amends. Real character development here and I like to see it)

Reginald - Well, his overarching motivation since S1 has always been bringing back his dead wife, so I won't belabor that, but also it's interesting to see how he interacted with Klaus particularly - esp in E7 when he sobers up it seems he is experimenting with remembering his role as a father. Now we don't get a ton about his internal motivation here, but you can tell there is some mild curiosity, if not affection, for Klaus, despite the fact that he ultimately is cool with sacrificing him.

Some of these are more obvious than others, but when you tie them all together, the idea that they are all desperately looking for family and the blind spots that that creates for them, some of the messiness of S3 starts to make a bit more sense.

[babyangelsky]

The maids kids know everything

Yeah so I'm not done yapping about expressions this week and ya'll can blame @almayver , @slayerkitty , @prapaiwife , @fallsouthwinter , and @crispywizardtale for enabling me.

I wanted to talk more about Meena in my expressions post because the second I saw her adorable, sweet happy face go from this

to this the second she saw her grandfather waiting for her after school, I knew we were going to be in for a lot.

And boy howdy, were we.

First though, can I say how much I already LOVE Nina? Baby girl is 10 years old and she absolutely blew me away. She's doing a great job. Her expressions as Meena are clear and excellent and telling in the very same way that Tongrak's are. It makes it feel like they're really related and like she's grown up around him her whole life and picked up his mannerisms, it's incredible to see.

Of course, that also meant that she ripped my heart out.

Meena is sweet and cute and intelligent and it's obvious that she's the absolute light of Tongrak's life. She's also very precocious, which means that she knows everything to an extent that no child should.

This baby girl is very aware of how messed up her family is. She knows her grandparents' history, she knows her mother is afraid of her grandfather, she knows her uncle is even more afraid of her grandfather, and even worse than all that, she knows she should be afraid of her grandfather.

When her grandpa shows up at her school, she knows to take a picture and then go in the opposite direction of wherever he is. She knows to tell Tongrak right away. She makes the decision not to tell her mother because she knows it'll stress her out.

She says THIS.

Do you know how fucked up it is for a child to say this so casually?

For all that Tongrak and Kwan have been traumatized and harrowed by their upbringing, it's clear to me that they've done what they can to shield Meena from suffering because of it too. She seems like a bright, happy little girl.

But it's precisely because they're harrowed by it that Meena knows as much as she does. Kids see things. They understand more than they're ever given credit for because so few adults see them as actual people. Even if neither her mother nor her uncle said a word about their family history, Meena would pick up on all the things that are wrong and all the things not being said.

For god's sake, she won't even let her uncle pick her up from school because she knows he's terrified of her grandfather. No child should have the things on their mind that she does.

Yes, it's fucked up that there's even anything for her to be aware of in the first place and that she's having to think about comforting the adults in her life, but being aware of things helps to protect her. There's less of a chance she'll be hurt by her grandfather or anything else if she knows to run away and that she has safe places and people to go to.

And that's why it matters so much that Mahasamut told her the truth about his feelings for and relationship with Tongrak.

No one is ever direct with children. No one dares to be frank with them or meet them on a level they can process and understand because again, children aren't always seen as people. There's always this feeling of "you can't say that to a child" or "that's too much for a child!" and I'll agree that most children don't need to know absolutely everything.

Meena isn't most children, however.

I didn't pick up on it the first time for my expressions post, but when I went back and rewatched the scene in Tongrak's living room, I clocked this expression from Mahasamut.

He makes this face the second Meena brings up her grandfather. He wasn't really paying that much attention to the conversation before this but after? He zeroes in because he knows it's important.

There is no world in which Mahasamut wasn't going to offer--insist even--to pick Meena up from school. Ain't no way. He's just learned exactly how cruel and fucked up Tongrak's father is and now here this child is telling her uncle about how she saw that same man was waiting for her after school. In this exact moment he set himself up as one of those safe people for Meena to go to.

And I really think Mut realizes that in order to be that for her, he has to be honest with her. He tells her and she understands because she is intimately familiar with what it means for one person to pay another for their company. Once he's honest with her, he can then reassure her that he isn't with Tongrak for the money and that he sincerely cares about him.

Meena wants a happily ever after for her uncle. She can pick up on the sadness and loneliness in his novels. She sees that Tongrak takes care of everyone but that no one takes care of him.

When Mut asks her to root for him to get to be the one to take care of Tongrak and that he's confident that he can be, her whole face lights up and she has fight back her smile.

Maybe most kids don't need this level of frankness, but Meena does. I can only imagine how betrayed and hurt she would feel if she were to find out later from someone else that her beloved uncle's relationship began with money like her grandparents' relationship did because she has already seen how that ended.

Mahasamut has known this child for like an hour and already he's treating her and her feelings with the same respect and consideration that he shows to Tongrak. And that is exactly what she and any child deserve from the adults in their life.

[shadowsndaisies]

the hard deck: athena settles debts (pt 4)

WC: 898

synopsis: what if Mav's daughter settled his tab that night in the hard deck

main masterlist

athena-verse masterlist

a/n: this was brought on as i rewatched top gun maverick again, because i love it. and even though i should be finishing the last update of season 1 for codename: nightingale (which is only missing the final fight btw its almost done!!!) i took a little brain rot break. also top gun's been officially added to my masterlist!

You'd heard the jukebox get pulled and then the piano, and you couldn't move. Even when Phoenix tried to convince you to join her by the piano. You watched as Hangman and Coyote stayed with a few others by the pool tables at first, but even they started wandering over eventually.

Hangman, however, moved slow. He lingered by you first, saddling up beside the table. And ehen he realized your gaze was going to stay focused on your beer's label, where your fingers were slowly peeling it off the bottle, he knocked on the table. A look far more gentle than you'd anticipate in such a public place crossed his face as your eyes met his.

" 'Thena?" he calls your callsign with a softness that you know is real, and your lips tug down at the thought of having to lie to him when he's being so open with you.

Before you can say anything else before he can ask more, Penny rings the bell again, and chants of "overboard" can be heard. Saved by the bell, literally.

"Go," you nod. "Penny beckons," you tease softly, forcing your lips to turn up.

He nods, and both Payback and Coyote go with him.

When you follow them with your gaze, you meet your dad's eyes, and when the three younger pilots take up positions, boxing him in, a small quirk of a smirk curls at your lips, because it would be him. He seems to catch your eye just in time and offers up a half smile in response. You watch as Penny gives a nod, her head jerking toward the door. Then the three hoist your dad up in their arms and carry him, before throwing him out, a small amused smile now on your lips, as you make a note to stop by the Kazansky house tomorrow, Ice would love to hear about this.

You're so focused that you miss the first few notes. It's not until a familiar voice fills the space with lyrics that you learned as a baby that there's a sickening twist in your stomach and a renewed need to leave as you push out of your seat, leaving the half empty beer behind.

You move to the bar as Bradley begins to sing and have to force yourself not to look at him. You know what you'd see, aviators perched low on his nose, still slightly crooked from when he'd caught a fastball to the face as a teenager. Curls that are almost golden in the light but had to be matted somewhat by the heat and sweat inside the bar. He had that stupid mustache just like his father's, that was just borderline within regs. You know his dog tags were visible on top of his tank top, with some stupid Hawaiian shirt hanging open. You know what you'd see, so you do your beat to avoid looking.

If you had caved, what you would've also seen is how he searched for you while he sang. A slow scan of the bar, for the girl he learned the lyrics beside, propped on an old piano as a toddler as your father's and his mother sang along, holding little you in her arms. In the mass of people surrounding the piano though, he's having a hard time finding you, why did he pick this song?

"Hey, Penny," you call her name, and her head snaps to you, from where she'd been watching your dad get tossed out.

Your lips quirk on end a bit. Years have gone by, and her relationship with your father, volatile as it can be, still has been the most steadfast of your life. She was your mom in all the ways that mattered.

"I didn't realize they called you back too," she says, talking a bit loud over the music.

"Best of the Best, Miss Penny," you muse, though there's a hollowness in your chest as you say it, she seems to catch it.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" she asks, grabbing a glass and you shake your head.

"No, I, uh… I'll settle for the old man," you tell her, head tilting as you slide your card across the bar.

"No, he'd—"

You cut her off, though, before she can argue. "No, let me. I, uh, I was heading out anyways. You know him, he'd hate to have an open tab," you admit, throwing in a joke to add some levity.

"Sweetheart-" she tries again, and you know she can read you. Despite all the years and gaps in your relationship with her. This was the woman who took you to buy pads for the first time, you knew that she knew you.

"Please, Pen, I… I can't be here, not with this. It's so much worse for him, too. Let me settle it," you admit to her rawly, and her gaze moves to where there's a live performance.

"History's a fickle thing, isn't it?" she offers instead, taking your card. "The ones we truly care about, they always seem to come back in the end, though."

"You'd know better than me, Pen," you shoot back, your tones got a bit defensive but she doesn't even flinch.

She hands you your card with a bittersweet smile, "I guess I would," she nods.

You let out a sigh, and look back at her, "Tell Amelia I'm back?" you ask, and she nods. "At the end of this, whatever it is, tell her I'll take her for ice cream?" you tag on, signing the receipt.

"I will, she'll hold you to it though (Y/n)," Penny confirms.

"I'd expect nothing less as a woman of the Navy," you muse, tucking your card away and turning from the bar.

Rooster's still singing, his voice as pretty as ever. And you can't help your self. You cave.

sue me, you think as you look over at him just once as you pause by the door.

"Well, kiss me baby! Ooh! That feel's good!" he sings, and you smile to yourself despite the ache, shaking your head as you push the doors and walk out. He had a smile on his face, and maybe, maybe you could learn to be okay.

Maybe.

(Probably not.)

You're unlocking your truck when you hear your name. "Athena!" You pause and turn, surprised to see both Phoenix and Hangman; after all, they always seem to be at ends.

"Where are you going?" Phoenix is the one to ask, her cheeks are flushed and her chests heaving a bit from how she'd all but been screaming the lyrics from beside Rooster.

"Home, gotta get some beauty rest before tomorrow," you tell them. "Make sure I'm ready to show you all up," you cover.

"Are you sure?" Phoenix asks, hesitating by the door.

"Yeah, I'll see you bright and early," you reassure her.

She seems to take your word as she nods once at you before heading back into the bar. Hangman, on the other hand, has stayed outside.

"Bravado was never your strong suit, 'Thena, it's mine," he drawls, and though the words are cocky, you understand the question hidden there.

"Go inside, Jake. I'll see you tomorrow," you say softly before getting in your truck. "I gotta keep both my feet on the ground," you add, willing him to understand, before shutting the door.

You notice he stays, watching as you pull out. It's only once you pull out on the road that he turns to go back in.

He be-lines straight to Coyote, missing the look that Rooster sends him as struts back in. The one that lingers on the door, waiting for you to walk back in as well, not that you do.

...

a/n: come talk with me about this athena idea if you want, it's been a while since i've posted anything not DC, so it was kind of fun. I have a longer non-related top gun fic in my drafts too, but that'll come after cnng probably

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

What You Want

Alex Blake x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, sex, fingering, toys, age gap relationship (all parties are very much adults, like 30+), also fluffy times because I can't not, explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything) Word count: 2.1k

Summary: It's your first time, and Alex treats you right. But what if you want too much from the relationship? What if she doesn't want the things that you want?

Note(s): There is a severe lack of Alex Blake content on here! I've just gotten to the Alex seasons on my Criminal Minds rewatch and she's so fine, so smart, so funny. Also, thank you to the several Alex Blake fic writers who use darling girl as her signature pet name for reader because that's fucking cute and, in my mind, it's canon now.

“Shhh,” Alex soothed from her perch in between your legs as you gasped and writhed. She planted a kiss on your thigh, letting her finger rest inside of you, letting your body stretch and adapt. “Just relax, sweet girl. Breathe. In and out, there you go. I’ve got you.”

She laced her free hand with yours, and you gripped it tight, pleasure and pain roiling underneath the surface of your skin. Three times tonight. That’s how many times she’d already made you come. From her mouth. From the vibrator she held at just the right angle, brushed against you at just the right speed to have you completely fall apart. From her body pressed against yours.

You didn’t know you could feel like this, so good, so electric, it made you nearly black out with pleasure. You’d told Alex you were a virgin, and you’d been so worried it would scare her off. After all, you were thirty. Who waited until their thirties? You did. You just hadn’t found anyone you’d wanted to do those things with. Until Alex.

And she hadn’t cared one bit. She’d just cupped your face and kissed your nose and said, “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll be gentle.” No questions. No revulsion. No why haven’t you had sex before?! Just Alex, excited to be your first. Just Alex, taking care of you all night long.

You whimpered as Alex started slowly moving her finger in and out, in and out. You could feel yourself dripping onto her as she pressed another finger inside. You could feel your stomach tighten, your hips buck against her hand, and you couldn’t control it. It was like your body was separate from your mind, or perhaps had taken it over, and left it with only one thought: Alex, Alex, Alex.

“You’re being so good for me, honey. Such a good girl.”

Alex moved to lay next to you, maneuvering for a different angle and when she hit it–Jesus Christ, you lit up like a bonfire.

“Alex,” you moaned, your hips rocking into her hand again and again. She kissed your cheek, and you tucked your head in the crook of her neck, intoxicated by the smell of her–sweat, perfume, and something else unnameable, unique to her, soft and warm like a bookshop.

Your chest heaved and you squeezed your fists together, your arms limp and stupid at your sides. You didn’t know what to do with them. She kept telling you to relax, to let her take care of you, and you had, but you still felt like you were floundering.

Alex kissed you again, deeply, hungrily, licking a stripe from your neck to your mouth. “Go ahead, baby, you can touch me,” she whispered breathily into your ear.

“I don’t know how,” you admitted, a groan escaping your lips as she pressed the heel of her palm into your clit.

She laughed, and it was beautiful. Her eyes crinkling. The way she pressed her tongue between her teeth.

“Like this,” she told you, moving your hand and placing it on the bare small of her back. Her skin felt so good under your fingertips you almost came from that alone. You gasped for breath, running your hands up and down her back, across the rise of her ass, burying your face between her breasts. She was so warm, so soft, so very, very alive.

You felt the knot below your stomach tighten and tighten until there was nothing left but for it to snap.

“Alex,” you panted, as she pressed once more into that spot that short-circuited your brain.

You moaned, high and desperate, your body contracting as you approached the edge.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Come on. You’re so close. One more for me, yeah?”

But this time was not like the others. This time you were like a surfer waiting for an approaching wave, only to realize when it arrived that it was so much bigger, so much more powerful than you’d expected. A wave that crashed into you with such force you thought you might drown in it. You were vaguely aware of someone making a lot of noises that either sounded wildly pleasurable or wildly painful. It started almost as a burning, then flamed through your entire body, from your center all the way down to your toes, to the follicles on the top of your head. Your body spasmed with the strength of it, and for Alex’s part, she held you close, her skilled fingers guiding you through, smiling softly as you jerked and shook around her.

All at once, her touch at your most sensitive spot was painful, almost unbearably so. You pushed her hands away and shook, absolutely spent from the evening’s activities.

You let Alex cradle you in her arms, placing soft kisses all over your face and hands. She wrapped herself around you while you caught your breath, undoing her messy bun and carding her fingers through your hair as you pressed your face into her chest.

“You did so good, darling girl,” she cooed. “Do you feel alright?”

You hummed and nodded.

“Do you need anything? Water?”

“Water would be good,” you croaked and she grinned at you, eyes twinkling.

She sat up a bit and you tightened your grip around her waist. “No, no! I don’t need it that bad.”

Alex chuckled and kissed your forehead. You weren’t sure how long you layed like that in her bed, limbs tangled together, just breathing each other in, just resting and basking.

But after a while, Alex decided you had to stay hydrated and brought you both glasses of water, perching on the edge of the bed as she sipped. For your part, you downed yours so fast that little streams of water fell down your chin and onto your chest and neck.

You moved to wipe the water away with your hand, but Alex grabbed your fingers and squeezed them.

“Let me,” she said, drawing a line with her tongue up your stomach, your chest, your neck, and landing on your chin.

You were breathless by the time she got to your mouth, grasping both sides of her face in your hands and kissing her. You almost hoped that Alex couldn’t read the emotion behind the kiss because, for you, there was too much. You didn’t know if Alex saw you as a fling or a secret side link situation or a real relationship, but you wanted it to be real. You wanted it so badly. You knew you were probably too young for her. Hell, you were almost twenty years her junior. But it didn’t seem to matter when you were together. You loved her mind and her sharp sense of humor. You loved that she always asked what book you were reading. You loved that when you learned something new, she wanted to learn it, too. You loved her hair and her eyes and the way her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.

The bottom line was you liked her too much. You loved her, and it was too early to love her. And so you hoped, god, you hoped she couldn’t feel how much you loved her when you kissed her. Even though it was near impossible for you to hold back.

She pinched your cheek when she pulled away, grinning at you, to sit at the side of the bed and take gulps of water. She checked her phone messages, and you watched her. Content just to be with her, in her presence.

But all of a sudden, self-consciousness flooded you like an icy river. What if Alex didn’t want you there? In the movies, the first time they had sex, it was always casual. They went home afterward. No big deal. Were you supposed to go home? Were you supposed to feel like this was no big deal?

“Alex?” you ventured, your voice hesitant.

“Hmm?” Her chin was propped up on her knee and your heart melted a little bit just to see her so comfortable.

“Should I go home now?”

She looked at you quizzically, like she was trying to solve a puzzle or translate a particularly difficult passage in a dead language. “Only if you want to.”

You avoided her eyes. “Well, what do you want?”

Alex shook her head, smiling softly. “I want you to do whatever you want.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “But I want to do what you want me to do.”

“Hey,” she said, grabbing your face so fast it made your stomach somersault. “Stop that.”

You tried to laugh it off. “No, I just–”

She interrupted you with a kiss, forceful and firm. “Y/N,” she said. “You spend so much time making sure you accommodate what other people want. You need to decide what you want. Now, close your eyes.”

“Alex–” you protested.

“Close them.”

You sighed, but obliged her, enjoying the feeling of her fingers tracing your skin.

“Pretend I’m not here. What do you want to do tonight?”

You were quiet for a moment and, even when you spoke, your voice was soft and hoarse. This was a part of yourself you weren’t used to exercising–knowing what you wanted and asking for it.

“I want to stay here.”

Alex hummed encouragingly.

“I want to go to sleep with you.”

Once you’d started, you almost couldn’t stop. You were afraid if you didn’t let it out now, it’d stay inside your head forever.

“I want to wake up next to you. I want to make you breakfast. I want to kiss you goodbye when you go to work.”

There it was. All out. Well, not all of it, but all you could manage right now. And suddenly you were afraid to open your eyes, afraid you’d look into Alex’s and see that she didn’t want the same things. It was that very fear that usually kept you from admitting what you wanted.

“Open your eyes, Y/N.”

When you didn’t, you felt the bed dip a bit next to you, felt Alex’s breath warm on your face, felt her forehead press into yours, her body soft and solid. Close, so close. Where you always wanted her to be, but were too scared to ask for.

“Darling girl,” she whispered. “Don’t ever be ashamed to want such lovely things.”

You blinked your eyes open and looked at her in surprise. “But what do you want?” you asked, almost breathless.

Alex thought for a moment, just watching you. Your wide eyes, innocent and hopeful and scared and so, so young. She sat up again, so she could look down at you, appreciate how perfect you looked in her bed. “I want you,” she told you, caressing your face. “In whatever way you’ll let me have you.”

“All the ways,” you said, probably a little too quickly, too desperately. “You can have all of me, all the ways.”

Alex smiled sadly, running her fingers through your hair. “Honey, you’re gonna find some girl who’s your age and you’re gonna fall in love, and it’ll be beautiful, and I will be happy for you. I can’t keep you all to myself and keep you away from that.”

“Alex, I don’t want a girl my age,” you said earnestly. She looked away. “If I wanted to fuck girls my age, I would’ve been doing it for the last ten years. I want you.”

You took her hand and kissed it, holding her palm to your face.

She sighed and looked at you, mulling you over, as if she were making a move on a chess board. “If that changes, you’ve got to let me know.”

“It won’t,” you insisted, pressing your lips to each of her fingers in turn.

“Promise me.”

“I promise,” you conceded. “But, Alex, I don’t want anyone else. I just want you.”

In a rare show of confidence or boldness or just plain affection you crawled into Alex’s lap and wrapped your arms around her waist, planting a kiss on her jaw.

She seemed to surrender something then, to give in where previously she’d been fighting. She hugged you tightly to her, pressing her lips to the side of your head. “Oh, my girl. You’re too sweet for me, you know that?”

“Keep calling me your girl, and I’ll be as sweet as you want,” you mumbled, blushing.

She smirked and kissed your cheek, long and firm, before pulling you up to your feet.

“Alright, darling, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I do feel kind of sticky…”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Alex joked, eyebrows raised.

You took her hand and followed her to the bathroom, glad that, at least for tonight, you were both getting what you wanted.