#hopefully this weekend i get the things i wish to do done!

[koifsssh]

for that one wally fan i keep seeing on my dash and making me laugh with their posts, i think theyre very silly

this shall be a secret drawing (nobody tell them) (if you do i will be sad) (not really if anything amused) (hehe!)

[pallases]

IM FREEEEEE

[issdisgrace]

Hi hello, would you mind writing sa male resder x Oscar piastri fluff? Like just something really tame, like cuddling in bed, or comforting him after a bad race, or taking care of him when sick, or maybe some angst? He gets jealous cause some guy is flirting with reader, but fluff would be really nice, hope this isn't too long 😭😭 thx

MY SICK BABY

WARNINGS: None

A/N: Sorry this took so long, have been neglecting my writing and basically all other aspects in my life. But I hope you like this none the less.

Oscar didn't get sick often. In fact, the last time he was sick was almost a year. But when he did get sick he wasn't just sick, he was sick.

So when Oscar started feeling ill Friday night, dread sunk its way into his stomach. He knew that this weekend would be hell for him and god was he right.

He woke up Saturday morning with a pounding headache and a stuffy nose. He took some meds to help with it before he went out to the track, which helped some. However, he still felt quite miserable and others could see it, but despite this he had managed to qualify pretty good. Anyway, it was later that night everything just got worse, and the coughing started. He felt like he was suffocating, his chest hurt, he couldn't sleep, so he ended up calling you.

You were really concerned when you got a call from Oscar at 1 in the morning. But as soon as he started talking it was clear why he was calling you. He was sick. You felt bad as you listened to him explain everything. You suggested a couple of things that would hopefully help, which he appreciated, and you ended up staying on the phone till he fell asleep.

Then Sunday came, and despite your suggestions and some meds he still felt and now looked like hell. But he pushed himself, ignoring everything his body and others were telling him. He was going to race today even if it killed him. When he got out on the track, he felt surprisingly good and raced his ass off getting p3. Then he came in and his adrenaline came down and he felt worse than he did before. He had just made it through podium before he yacked up the contents of his stomach. He was grateful that the team didn't force him to do media after and just sent back to his hotel.

He managed to get some rest, which did him some good but before he knew it he 8pm and he needed to head to the airport for his flight home. Oscar was happy to be going home, and that flight was only 2 hours, but god those 2 hours were the absolute worse in his life. The turbulence was god awful, everyone and everything was just to loud, he had a hard time keeping whatever was left in his stomach down, and his nose just kept running.

By the time the plane landed around 11pm, he was ready to just cuddle up in bed with you and sleep for the next 24 hours. Picking Oscar up from the airport, you asked questions about how he was feeling wanting to gauge what you needed to do to help him feel better. Oscar told you and you made a mental note of everything as you headed home.

Once you guys were home, you got Oscar into pajamas and then got him some cold medicine and some soup that you had made earlier. He happily had to the soup as it was his favorite chicken noodle. But he reluctantly took the cold medicine because it tasted god awful. But he took it like the good boy he is.

You then got him all tucked into bed with the tv playing some old detective show that Oscar liked to watch. Kissed him goodnight and told him if he needed you, you would be asleep in the guest bedroom. Oscar wished you stayed with him, but he knew you didn't want to get sick as well.

Anyway, it was around 6 am when Oscar woke up. He felt hot and ill and quickly got out of bed to throw up the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Having woken up early and hearing the shuffling, then the throwing up, you quickly rushed to Oscar. Siting on the floor beside him, rubbing his back trying to soothe him.

You sit with him rubbing his back until he done throwing up. After he’s done you carefully get him back into bed. Then go and get the thermometer to take his temperature. You take his temperature and it reads 101 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s not good but it’s not as bad as it could be.

You get him some more cold medicine and water. You make sure he drinks all the water and then get a cool damp wash cloth on his forehead. You turn then turn the tv which shut off probably sometime in night. You put on some cartoons. They’re easy and you don’t got to think or follow much. Perfect for someone that is sick.

You then get everything set up for Oscar so he can take care of himself while your gone at work for the day. You’re a little reluctant to leave Oscar but you knew you had to work. You told Oscar to keep you updated in how he was doing.

When you got home from work, you immediately went and checked Oscar and found him asleep, cartoons still playing on the tv. You smile to yourself as you leave and go make dinner. When you’re almost done with dinner you hear the soft footsteps of Oscar coming down the hallway, you look up and greet him. He definitely looks better than he did this morning. You ask him how he’s feeling and he was better like you expected.

This routine of getting him set up in the morning and going to work and coming home and checking on him and then making dinner goes on for a 9 days, until Oscar feels completely better.

Oscar is really appreciative of you taking care of him while he was sick and took you out to dinner at a nice place as a thank you. Despite your insistence that he didn’t need to, that you were his partner and that taking care of him when he was sick came with that. While you were out for dinner you started sneezing a lot.

And by the next morning you were sick and it was Oscar’s turn to take care of you while you were sick.

[melanieph321]

heyy,

Coyou do Kenan Yildiz x reader being teen parents?

Love this! ❤️

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0

(DAY 5)

Kenan Yildiz x Reader - Only For One Day

Enjoy!

Your son turned five today. As a single mother, you always feard inadequacy. You feard not being enough or doing enough to keep your only child happy. And today was one of those days.

Despite being surrounded by friends and family, with a cake to feed a whole village, your son, Romeo, couldn't be more miserable on his birthday.

"Time to make a wish." Your mom said, having lit the last birthday candle. The cake was set on the table before your son, who regarded it with furrowed brows.

"Go on baby, blow out the candles and make a wish." You encouraged.

His frown deepend, followed by a shake of his head. "I want daddy to help me blow them out."

Your heart dropped.

"Great, I guess that means no cake for us."

"Dad, please." You sighed and knelt down before your son's chair. "Baby, we've talked about this, haven't we?" Daddy couldn't make it today because of his very important job. But he sent you some really nice gifts, didn't he?"

"I don't want gifts, I want daddy!"

It was heartbreaking to see Romeo storm up to his room, abandoning his own birthday celebrations. You were quickly consoled by your family, all of them telling you that you weren't the one to blame. However, it didn't feel fair to blame it all on Kenan. No matter how hard you tried, the two of you just couldn't make the relationship work. The endless bickering brought out the worst in both of you, eventually leaving your son to grow up in a split home, confused as to why his parents never celebrated his birthday together.

You went to bed late that night, retreating to your room after checking on Romeo, who lay fast asleep in his bed. There, seated on the edge of your bed, you made the tough decision to put your pride aside and call your ex-boyfriend.

"Y/N?"

The phone rang for less than a beat before Kenan's sharp voice sparked through the phone. "Is everything alright? How is Romeo?" He asked, with slight distress considering the late hour of which you decided to call him.

"Romeo is fine." You said, to which Kenan sighed in relief.

"Oh, okay. Good. How was the birthday party? Did he like the things I sent him?"

"Yeah, about that...." You sat with the phone pressed to your ear, imagining Kenan in whatever place in the world he may be. You once made it clear to him that you were to have sole custody of your son. Leaving Kenan to live the life he always dreamt of living, the life of a professional football player. However, as the father of your son, he was free to see Romeo whenever you saw fit. Hopefully, tomorrow was one of those days.

"What? Did something happen at the party?" He asked.

"Yes, Romeo refused to blow out the candles on his birthday cake unless you were there to help him."

"I see."

"Yeah, he was really upset." You said, twisting the corners of your bed sheets.

"You know...." Kenan said, reviving the hopeful beating of your heart. "I'm not too far away. Juventus is playing Turin this weekend, so I'm actually in town tomorrow if you want me to...."

"I want you to." You nodded eagerly, although Kenan wouldn't possible know.

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow." You shirrped, fast to hang up the phone before regretting ever making the call in the first place. Nevertheless, it was done. Your son was getting the birthday he deserved.

The next day you were a nervous wreck, forcing yourself to put on a brave face as you greeted Kenan at the door.

"Hey, Kenan," you said, trying to sound casual. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world." Kenan handed you a gift for Romeo. Another one, you thought.

"Thanks again for inviting me," he said, his voice low and smooth.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes. You could see the old spark there, the one that had once made you fall in love with him. However, you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on your son.

Romeo was running around the living room with his cousins, laughing and having the time of his life. Your family had thankfully agreed to a redo of yesterday's celebrations and did not judge your decision to invite Kenan this time around.

As the celebrations went on, you and Kenan found yourselves drawn to each other, not helping to exchange a few pleasantries, and before long, you were laughing and joking again, just like old times. But as the night wore on, you began to feel a pang of sadness. You knew that this was just a temporary reprieve, that the old feelings you had for Kenan would eventually fade, and the two of you would be back to where you were now. Separated. Still, you couldn't help but enjoy the moment to savor the happiness that Kenan brought to your son. He was undoubtedly a great dad.

As the celebrations came to an end, you hugged Romeo tightly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Thank you for coming, Kenan," you said, voice choked with emotion.

"No, thank you," he replied, his voice just as soft. "For giving me the best gift I could ever ask for." He regarded the two you with loving eyes. You smiled, knowing that this was exactly what Romeo needed - to see his parents getting along, if only for one day.

[nhlclover]

wish you were sober pt.2 | mark estapa

summary: mark works up the courage to finally tell you his long kept feelings. part one here!

request: yes / no

warnings: the second part to a previous story, i recommend reading the first part before this one. semi proof read, couple instances of cursing, little bit of angst + fluff

a/n: sitting here pretending he didn't just get hurt yesterday😃 also sorry for lack of posting it’s midterms and i’ve got lots of school work so bear with me!

word count: 1.08k

It had been a full day and a half since you’d heard anything from Mark. Although you had told him off, saying you were done, you had hoped he would’ve come to some sort of senses sooner. You missed him. You missed having him in your life, to the point you wished you’d said nothing. You honestly would’ve rathered staying in your limbo of friendship as long as that meant keeping Mark in your life.

The past couple of days had been miserable for you as you were stuck in your dorm room, doing homework and getting ahead on readings. Normally, over a weekend, you would have a hockey game to go to. You’d watch Mark play, and hopefully watch Michigan win. But you couldn’t bring yourself to go to Saturday’s game, so you instead watched online from the comfort of your bed, missing Mark's hold.

When your phone buzzed, you’d expected a text from you and your friends' group chat. Your heart did a leap when you read Mark's name on your screen. A text from him asked if he could come over. You wondered if it was just going to be Mark pretending as if nothing happened, as per usual. The smart and right thing to do would be to say no or ignore his text. But the prospect of having Mark back, hanging out with him in your dorm again, made you blindly pick up your phone and agree, telling him to come over. 

He was there within a few minutes, a soft knock signifying his arrival. When you opened the door, his appearance was not one you’d expected. His normal smile-dressed face, eyes lighting up with excitement even if it was just another normal day, was absent. He looked somber.

You stepped aside, allowing the boy to walk into your room. He sat in your desk chair, leaning back. The space was void of any words.

You stay by the door, wanting to maintain the distance between the two of you. You know that if you’re within reaching distance and you fall into his arms, Mark won’t need to say anything because you’ll succumb to his touch.

“How was your weekend?” He asks. It’s suddenly as you feared, with Mark brushing past what had happened on Friday.

You scoff at his question. “Uh, it was fine, Mark. I did some homework.” You answer bluntly.

Mark nodded, picking at the skin around his fingernails. “We had a game on Saturday. I was hoping you’d go, but I kind of figured you wouldn’t. We won. Four nothing. Rutger had this awesome play where-”

“What’re you doing here, Mark?” You cut him off.

He licks his lips, looking away from you. He’s silent as he looks out your window, the orange leaves slowly dropping from the tree just outside.

“I thought about what you said…on Friday.” He finally says. 

Your mouth goes dry, anticipating what his next words will be. You figure it goes one of two ways; he tells you he feels the same way or he tells you he doesn’t feel the same way and it’s the end of your friendship as you know it. You pray it’s the first.

“I was a douche.” He says. “I like you. I do. I really do.”

His words seem sincere but you don’t feel wholly convinced. “You said that, Mark.” You say. “But I don’t know if I believe you.”

“I understand that, but please try to.” He says softly. You stay silent, going to sit on your bed, giving Mark the chance to speak. 

“Okay…I’ve liked you for a while now. Like, last homecoming, y’know?”

You do know. It was the first time he’d kissed you.

“That…that was…sober thoughts becoming drunk actions,” Mark says. “Y’see I liked you a lot but I was scared…I didn’t know what to do. So when I got drunk, I wasn’t scared anymore so I just kissed you. And then the next morning, I was sober and the fear was back.” “Okay but Mark, I don’t understand what you were scared of. You say.

“I was scared you wouldn’t reciprocate, y/n.” He says. 

You can’t help but chuckle at his reasoning. “Why would you think that? I did reciprocate.” 

Mark bows his head, shrugging his shoulders. “Y/n… you’ve been in my life for too long. If I fucked up our friendship…I don’t know what I’d do.”

You run your hands over your face, processing his words. 

“And you’re you! I mean, y/n, you’ve always been this straight-A student, and you’re so god-damn smart and I’m a fucking fourth liner with more penalty minutes than shots on net.” Mark says, chuckling as he reaches the end of his sentence.

“Mark…” You say. You finally lock eyes with him, his brimming with tears. You hop off your bed, standing in front of him.

“And I’m not trying to give excuses I’m just trying to explain why the hell I’ve been the way that I am.” He tells you.

You reach forward, running your hand through his hair. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. His hands find the back of your thighs, his head resting on your stomach. The pair of you stay there momentarily, holding one another close. 

“Y/n?” Mark finally says. You pull back slightly, looking at Mark. “I want you. I want to be with you. Please.”

He pulls you down so you’re sat on his right knee. “If you’ll have me.” He adds.

You chuckle, bringing a hand to his cheek. Mark doesn’t hesitate to close the space, pressing his lips against yours. The comfort of his lips swaddles you as his hands grip your hips to hold you on his lap. The lack of sloppiness his sober kiss brings realizes the truth of his words. You’ve also known Mark since grade school and you’ve come to recognize when Mark is being genuine and not. And right now you have no doubt in your mind of how genuine he is.

When you break apart, you wipe away a stray tear that had escaped Mark's eye. “So, you’ve liked me since last year?”

“Maybe more like high school…” Mark says.

“High school? You’ve been hiding this since high school?” You ask.

“Yeah, well you didn’t like me then!” Mark defended.

You chuckle, brushing back a piece of hair that fell over his face. “Honey, I’ve liked you since the day you destroyed my sandcastle in the sandbox.”

[sargeantposting]

Logan: And I couldn't thank my mechanic enough. And also my parents, uh, they really helped me to be able to win the world championship and it’s just an amazing feeling.  Interviewer: I mean, did you, did you, what did you do when you found out you won? Did you call your friends at home? Did you phone your grandpa? What did you get up to?  Logan: Uh, no, I just gave my mom and dad a really big hug. Interviewer: Is it still sinking in now?  Logan: Yeah, it's, it's a really emotional thing. [full transcript continues below cut]

Interviewer: I can imagine. I can imagine. You said that your mechanic Scott and also your driver Coach Gary really helped you along the way. How did, how did they do that?  Logan: Um, well, my driver coach Gary, he helped me a lot. Of course, he manages everything and he always keeps me calm before the races and just makes sure I'm always at my best. And Scott, of course, he always just makes sure the cart is perfect, make sure all the tire pressures are good and yeah, that's about it.  Interviewer: What's the difference before you get into the race? You said he keeps you calm and then when you put your helmet and you're actually sitting in the car. How do you feel? What's the difference?  Logan: Well, until the engines start, it's a bit, it was, it was a bit nerve wracking. But once the engines start, you forget about everything and you're ready.  Interviewer: And do you, do you just believe that you can beat all of your fellow races because sometimes some of those races there's like 90 odd other kids aren't there? Logan: Yeah, that weekend I was feeling really confident because I had been quick the whole week and I had won the pre-final. So I, yes, I did believe I could win.  Interviewer: Tell me about when you were a little bit younger than you are now. You're only 14 now. But why racing, why, why is this so important to you?  Logan: Um, well, my dad bought me a, a racing kart when I was five years old and we started from there. We thought it would just be like a little hobby and, uh, it ended up becoming like a professional thing we did. So. Interviewer: So, so was there a moment when you, when you or your dad just thought ‘Wow, I'm quick. I can do this’?  Logan: Um, well, not really. We just kept progressing and then, um, when we, when we decided to come to Europe to race, um, we moved to Switzerland and from then on we were just, uh, going to school, I started going to school in Switzerland. And, yeah, and then we just kept going and then ended up like this.  Interviewer: Do you have any other hobbies? Can you fit anything else in?  Logan: Um, well, other than school it's really hard. But when I get my breaks and I go back to Florida for, um, I like to go fishing a lot and, yeah, that's what I do. Mostly.  Interviewer: Nice, nice and relaxing. Schumacher, Vettel and Senna are just some of your idols, aren't they? What is it about them that you love?  Logan: Uh, just like the legacy that they've built and how, how good they were.  Interviewer: So, is that what you want to achieve?  Logan: Yeah, definitely.  Interviewer: Where do you want to go from here?  Logan: Um, well, next year I'll be racing in KF and then after that I'll try and make my way to Formula One.  Interviewer: And do you think if you achieved getting to Formula One, do you think you could match maybe Lewis Hamilton or Sebastian Vettel's four titles or even Michael's?  Logan: Well, we're far away away from that. But, um, hopefully, yeah, we'll see.  Interviewer: You must think about it though. Teenagers always think about stuff like this, don't they?  Logan: Yeah, of course. But it's a long way away. So I, I'm just focused on next year.  Interviewer: Well, we wish you lots of luck for next year and well done. Logan: Thank you very much.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.

DAY ONE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

pairing: stepbrother!frankie x santi's gf!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni

summary: you were seventeen when Frankie became your stepbrother, but no matter the title, he never felt like a brother to you, going off to college right after your father remarried. But no matter the circumstances, he was still off limits. Years pass and when he returns from the army your relationship with him is even more strained. You end up settling for the second best thing instead, his best friend. Everything seems to be going fine until Frankie stays over and Santi needs to leave for work.

word count: 5k

warnings: infidelity (reader cheats on santi), stepcest, possesive!frankie, y'all this fic isn't morally okay at all but it's not exactly "dark" it's just really messed up so read with caution, breeding kink, dirty talking, fingering, mild degradation kink, male masturbation, piv, oral sex, spitting, pillow humping, size kink, poor santi didn't deserve this, size kink, cuckolding kink???? (santi isn't there but frankie gets really turned on talking about it)

a/n: i don't know who's or what's gonna do it but I need someone to forgive me for this. also hopefully this turned out okay, it's very loosely edited and feel a bit all over the place but hopefully I'm just overthinking it. enjoy babes

Your father remarried when you were seventeen. 

You felt cheated at the time. And not because your father had found love again—no, that made you quite happy actually. You just wished he’d done it sooner, you could’ve benefited from having a big brother early on. Your relationship with your birth mother wasn’t easy, especially when you were young, and having someone there to vent to would’ve been like a dream. Your dad listened, but you know he felt someone guilty for it even though it wasn’t his fault. 

Frankie was only three years older than you. Sadly, he didn’t stick around for long, going off to college a year later. But his visits were frequent enough that you two developed a somewhat friendly relationship.

Emphasis on the somewhat. 

Being young and dumb, you developed a crush on him instead. It was an innocent thing. Just some hearts around his name and following him around like a duckling whenever he was around. Your dad and stepmom found it cute, endearing. Frankie seemed indifferent most of the time. He listened when you needed to vent, brought you soup when you were sick and your parents were working—and that was pretty much it. 

Then he went and joined the army. 

You remember the chaos that decision brought over the household. You were applying for colleges all on your own, your dad busy trying to console your stepmom, the latter being distraught over the potential of losing her son. You were just. . . sorta around, floating and looking over them, listening without really being there, just. . . there. 

A month later you were surprised to find a letter addressed to you. There was one for his mom and one for you, you just stared at it, confused when your dad handed it to you. 

You opened it in your room. You swore the damn paper smelled like him, the beat of your heart too loud to your own ears. 

You read it. There was only one sentence scribbled down, his handwriting even more crooked than usual. 

I’m sorry. 

You didn’t write back to him. You had no idea why he was apologizing and you were too afraid to ask at the time. During your first day of college you just assumed it was because he left you to deal with the mess his absence caused. 

Then he returned. 

The house was bustling when you came for your weekend visit. Your stepmom grinning from ear to ear when you arrived, hugging you tight with tears shining in her eyes. Frankie had brought a friend with him, a friend almost as handsome as him. 

Said friend had smiled at you, squeezing your hand tight, “Santiago,” he introduced himself. He stayed over for about a week and so did you, charmed by this sudden stranger that was your brother’s best friend. 

Frankie didn’t address the letter. Or what he’s written inside of it. He was the same as he’d ever been and for a second you doubted if you ever did receive a letter. But you knew you did. You still had it. 

At the end of the week, Santi officially asked you out, telling you that he’d already spoken to Frankie about it. You almost laughed at the absurdity of the whole ordeal. It wasn’t like Frankie ever was protective towards you, you were pretty sure Frankie couldn’t care less about who you dated. But nonetheless, you said yes, hoping that Santi would bring you the normalcy you so desperately craved. 

And he did. You were happy, enjoying every moment you spent with him. Santi didn’t push you aside, he didn’t make you feel like you had to fight for his attention. You didn’t have to play tricks or games, you weren’t second place to no one. Finally, you felt like the lead in your own goddamn life and you would always feel grateful to him for that. 

You couldn’t say the same thing with your relationship with Frankie thought. He completely iced you out, only talking to you normally when people were around, especially Santi. No one seemed to notice. You wanted to ask him about it but too much of a coward to do so. And honestly, you didn’t have it in you to care anymore. Neither you nor Frankie were young anymore; if he had a problem, he could just ask.

Three months into your relationship, you moved in with Santi. 

The setting sun's warm, orange glow pours through the open windows. A gentle breeze brushes against your skin, as you place a cup of hot black coffee on the table in front of him.

Santi sits on the couch, absorbed in the files from work. His fingers flip through the pages as he studies them intently. The soft rustling of paper mingles with the soft summer air. 

You sit next to him, your legs brushing together. Unlike him, you didn’t hate yourself so you were cooling your insides down with an iced coffee. You take a sip, your eyes eating at the way the sun kisses his skin, sharpening his jawline further. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, lifting his mug to your lips. His eyes find yours midst of drinking. “What are you looking at, querida?” he asks, lips twitching into a smile. 

“Oh nothing,” you hum. “Just looking at my very hot boyfriend.” 

“Very hot hmm,” Santi places the mug on the coffee table and gives you all his attention. “Seems like someone’s gonna miss me when I’m away.” 

Before you can quip back, he pulls you to his lap, your thighs framing his hips. You instinctively grind down and let out a shuddering breath, Santi drops his head back against the couch. “Fuck, you really are going to miss me, aren’t you? Sweet thing.” 

You cradle his jaw with both hands, leaning in, you press your lips together. Santi eagerly licks the seam of your lips, a silent order for you to let him in, you do, moaning at the feel of his tongue dancing alongside yours. He sucks the air from your lungs, tracing every inch of you with his tongue, a shiver runs up your spine, your body rubbing against his despite yourself. 

When he parts away you take in the sight of his swollen lips, his lustful gaze. Your heart skips a beat and your insides flush. 

“Oh, by the way, Frankie called,” he says out of the blue and out of breath. 

Well, that certainly kills the mood. 

“He needs a place to crash a couple of days, is that alright?” his eyebrows raise. “I’m actually surprised you don’t know. What kind of sibling relationship do you two have?” 

“You know we never actually lived together right?” you shrug. “But of course, he’s my brother and I love him. He can stay as long as he wants to.” 

He nods. “Good,” then nods again before giving you a quick peck on the lips. “It’s a bummer I won’t be here when he arrives.” 

“You could’ve rescheduled.” 

“This isn’t that kind of job sweetheart, you know it.” he nuzzles your cheek, feeling your discomfort. “But anyway, I’ll see him plenty when I get back.” 

You draw him into another kiss, and you take your time with it, feeling the fat strokes of his tongue delving into your mouth as you part your lips further. You wish he’d be here when Frankie comes. He still doesn’t talk much unless there are others around and after all these years you don’t know what you did to anger him enough so that he’d hold a grudge. 

Santi moans into your mouth and cups your breasts, toying with your hardened nipples with his thumbs. You wonder how okay he’d be with it if he knew about your past crush on Frankie. He’d probably laugh it off, it was a long time ago anyway. 

Your mind drifts to Frankie. To his messy curls the ballcap he refused to take off. Deep down you wonder what his reaction would be in learning about your past crush. A gush of heat rolls down your spine, slick gathering at the seams of your underwear. Santi's fingers glide downward, tracing the path between your legs. You shudder, a moan breaking through your lips. 

You’re not sure who you’re thinking about right now, two faces merging as one. 

You’re sitting on the couch, rigid, when you hear the knock that you hoped never came. 

All day you’ve been pacing around thinking about it, thinking about Frankie. He hadn’t called you not even once. All of his travel info was forwarded to you by Santi. It hurt to a degree. Him ignoring your presence so forcefully. You haven’t visited home in ages just because you knew he was staying there, helping your dad with the business. Sometimes you teased your father that Frankie was the son he’d always wanted, and despite your awkward laughter, you knew there was some truth to that statement. 

Another forceful knock. 

You finally push yourself off the couch and head to the door. Blood pumps vigorously through your veins, your heart beating too fast—too loud. You don’t have time to calm yourself as you yank the door open. 

His eyes immediately meet your own. Dark like chocolate chips but bitter like coffee. Sweat clings to his skin, hair curling at the ends, his shirt darkened in color sticking to his sternum, highlighting the contours of his chest and the swell of his stomach. You swallow. 

“Hey, Frankie,” you make a move to help with his luggage but he pulls it away before you can touch the handle. Filled with unease, you take a step back and leave enough room for him and his luggage to pass through. “How was the flight?” 

“Good.” 

Jesus, why does he always make everything so difficult? 

You close the door when he fully steps in, he does a brief once-over across the living room. His eyes linger on the picture of you and Santi on the coffee table, then quickly turn back to you, ignoring his own picture entirely. “Which room am I in, hermanita?” 

Your eyes widen at the endearment, your pulse picking up again. It had been years since he last called you that. “Uh. . . last room down the hall,” you murmur, mind absent. When he’s about to leave, you grip his arm, stopping him. His muscles tense underneath your touch, his eyes burning holes into the hand that’s holding him. “I cooked,” you say, choked. “You must be hungry, let’s eat first then I’ll show you around.” 

Frankie rolls his shoulders and moves his jaw from side to side. You’re about to take back your offer when he sighs, his shoulders dropping. “Fine. Okay.” 

You’re heating up the food when Frankie walks through the kitchen door. He’s wearing a clean shirt, cheeks damp from where he splashed water over himself. 

“Smells nice,” he mutters, standing next to you and peering from above your shoulder. “Is that mom’s recipe?” 

“It is,” a soft smile touches your lips. His eyes follow the curve of it, a slight surprise etching between his brows. “But I don’t make any promises about the taste. It’s my first time making it.” 

“You shouldn’t have.” 

There’s something in his tone that prompts you to stop your stirring and look at him. You’re surprised to find him already staring. His eyes clouded, lips tight as his gaze searching yours. “I shouldn’t have. . . what?” you ask very slowly, every word chosen very carefully. 

“Cooked,” he’s so unbelievably close. So close that you can hear the rasps in his voice, feel the heat of his breath across your cheeks. Your breath catches in your throat, heat pooling in your stomach. 

“O–Oh, well it’s nothing,” you force a chuckle. “Didn’t want to feed you something you didn’t like when you’re already probably uncomfortable.” 

He laughs, a sound you hadn’t heard in such a long time. Your body vibrates with the sound. “What am I? A dog?” However, the moment is fleeting like the sand dancing under the wind. His brows furrow. “What do you mean uncomfortable?” 

Ah, so much for picking your words carefully. 

You shrug and turn off the stove. Your eyes move up to the cupboard, you so desperately want to break away from the hold the close proximity has on you but it just feels good to be physically close to him again. He’s taller than Santi, that combined with broad shoulders and chest, Frankie’s presence can be quite demanding when he wants it to be. You guess that right now is one of those moments. He cups your chin, his fingers brushing against your neck. Your throat bobs heavily under his palm, sweat gathering at the small of your back. 

“Don’t play dumb,” you answer him sharply. “You barely talk to me when we’re alone. You didn’t even tell me you were staying over or your itinerary, I had to learn it all from Santi,” you break away from his grip, your anger starting to boil over. Frankie’s unphased by your sudden movement. “So what? All of that changes just because I cooked for you? Just because you only now noticed that I actually care about you? Do you have any idea how—” 

You clamp your lips shut. It was too much— too much threatening to bubble out. The inside of your mouth feels like sandpaper, your throat convulsing painfully as regret coats your tongue. You dare a glance at Frankie. He doesn’t seem taken aback by your outburst. In fact, he’s giving you a look as if he’s been waiting for this. 

“I know that you care,” he murmurs and you look away, the softness in your tone more than enough to convince you that he knows. And he had known, all this time. “I had to ice you out. I didn’t have much of a choice.” 

You need to hear him say it. You need him to tell you that he knows—you need him to blatantly tell you that every time you averted your gaze at the last second years before. . . he noticed. 

“Choice in what? Just tell me,” you wrap your arms around yourself, feeling like your entire body might shatter into a billion pieces at any second. 

He gives you a knowing look, eyes moving up and down your figure. “You know why.” 

“So as always it’s my fault.” 

“What?” he blinks rapidly and comes closer, hands finding your waist in an odd sense of familiarity. “No no, it’s not your fault. I. . . I was protecting you,” he licks his lips, eyes dropping to your mouth. “I was. . . protecting you from myself.”

You shake your head, fighting every urge to nuzzle his neck like a wounded animal. To smell his scent to soothe you. God, you’re unbelievable. And here you thought all your feelings had disappeared, apparently, they were just laying dormant under the flesh and bone. 

His nails bite into your skin despite your clothes. 

“Do you know how hard it was seeing you with him?” he spat the last word as if it was poison. A shiver crawls up your spine, needles digging into your skin. “You started to look at him the same way you used to look at me. I had to pull away.” 

“You were jealous?” you ask, confusion crossing your face. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“Because it’s wrong, hermanita.” 

The Spanish hit his tongue more violently this time. A reminder of what this relationship was supposed to be. However, the word doesn’t stop him from coming closer and closer, until his lips are only a breath away. 

“We’ve never been brother and sister, Frankie,” you say voice surprisingly hoarse. “Everyone knows that.” 

He scoffs, “You’re dating my best friend.” 

For that, you don’t have an excuse. All you can do is swallow and nod, his chest now flush against his, the only thing separating you to is your own arms that were still squeezing you tight. 

Frankie observes you a second longer, eyes flitting across your face; taking in the sight of your parted lips and dilated pupils. “But,” he continues, voice dangerously low. "I'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

You enter the bedroom and as soon as you do guilt rapidly builds in your chest, Frankie is right behind you, closing the door while your gaze remains glued to the picture that’s on your nightstand. A picture of you and Santi; there’s frosting on his nose from your birthday cake, your face split in a huge smile. You also remember being mildly bummed that Frankie hadn’t called. 

He follows your gaze, frowning when he notices what it was that you were staring at. With large steps, he walks over to the frame and slams it down. 

“Do you want this?” he breathes out, voice nothing but gravel. He doesn’t turn to look at you, his face lowered to the nightstand. “Because if you don’t, you have to tell me.” 

He’s asking the wrong question. 

You walk up to him, sliding your arms to his front as you press your forehead between his shoulder blades. 

Of course, you want this. 

The question he should be asking is if it’s worth throwing everything away just for one night. Because this is what that was. You don’t think you can hide it, and you’re not even sure if you want to hide it. 

Being with Frankie tonight means that you’re saying goodbye to Santiago, whether you tell him or he figures it out. 

You clutch the front of his shirt. It’s damp with sweat. You press a kiss, enjoying the moisture gathering at your lips. “Do you?” 

He turns around and grabs your face, pulling you to him immediately. Your mouths crash together, tongue and teeth eager to explore more of the other. He’s already pulling you away before your brain can’t even comprehend the taste of him, “More than anything,” he growls, hands still cradling your face. “Get on your knees.” 

Your drop instantly, not even bothering to take off your shirt. Warmth blossoms all over your skin as he drops his pants along with his boxers, cock already hard and ready. He starts stroking himself and tilts your head back. “Open your mouth,” he orders. 

Slotting the head of his cock between your lips, fist moving up and down his length. You close your lips around him, dipping your tongue into the slit. He groans with a rock of his hips, the first drops of precome stain your tongue, a loud moan ripping from your throat. You desperately want to bury your hand between your legs, your clit throbbing angrily. 

Frankie moves his hand away from his cock and brackets your head with both hands, pushing you forward down his cock. Only halfway down and you begin gagging, struggling for breath. You knew he’d be big, you just weren’t aware of how big. 

A cruel laughter rings above you, “That’s it?” he asks. “That’s all you can take?” you look up, eyes teary as he thrust a little bit more. Your throat squeezes helplessly around the width of him, your nostrils flaring. Frankie clicks his tongue, “My poor baby sister,” he tuts. “You’re not used to taking something this big huh?” 

You attempt to convey an answer but end up choking around him instead, your lids flutter, wet lashes kissing the skin under your eyes. “I guess I’ll have you train you myself,” your nipples harden at the promise, slick gathering at the seams of your underwear. “But later,” he says and much to your disappointment, pulls out. 

You breathe heavily, chest heaving as oxygen floods your lungs. 

“Strip,” he says, pulling off his shirt and kicking his pants away. “And get on the bed.” 

“So bossy,” you mutter, and as soon as you do, Frankie tugs you roughly against him, his tongue slipping between your lips hastily. He doesn’t allow you to breathe, mouth moving before you get the chance. He licks deeper into your mouth, and sucks your tongue as he parts away. Your insides flush. Your head spinning and legs trembling. Lightheaded, you grip his shoulders. 

“I’m not bossy,” he grunts, wet lips touching your forehead. “I’m just eager.” 

That makes both of you. Quickly stripping, you climb the bed waiting for him to show you just how eager he was. 

Instead, he walks around the bed, examing the pillows, “Which one is his?” 

“Santi’s pillow?” you raise an eyebrow. “It’s the one on the left.” 

He takes it with a hum, “Spread your legs,” he says and when you do, he places the pillow between them. Your heart races, a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. You don’t lower yourself down on the pillow, too embarrassed to do so. Frankie sits on the footstool at the end of the bed and takes his cock into his fist. He stares at you expectantly. 

“Uh—What am I supposed to do?” 

His cat-like grin makes you realize he wanted you to ask that, he leans forward, touching himself slowly, “I want you to make a mess of his pillow,” he groans. You clench at the order, your cheeks heating at how slick you’ve gotten just from the thought of it. “I want you to drench it so when he lays his head, he knows you don’t belong to him.” 

Frankie’s gaze flash with hunger, it frightens you to a degree, how angry he truly is. 

The fact that you actually do it, frightens you more. 

You lower yourself onto the pillow, feeling its softness beneath you and a strange thrill whispering through your body as your arousal surges higher. With a moan, you begin to ride the pillow, sinking your hips deeper with every thrust. You feel it grazing your clit, a whimper dropping from your lips. Mouth agape, you lift your gaze to Frankie. 

He’s stroking himself with a smile, wet noises coming from his fist fill the room, he swipes a thumb over the head. Your mouth flooding with saliva, you press against the pillow harder, the muscles of your legs clenching. Frankie notices and spreads his legs further, giving you a show of cupping his balls before moving his hand up again. 

“You look like you’ve never seen cock before,” he purrs. “You can’t wait can you? For me to fill that hungry pussy up. Don’t worry, big brother is going to take care of you.” 

“Fuck—” you can feel your body becoming increasingly slick, your breathing heavy and labored as pleasure ripples across your skin. Your body tenses and trembles as you rock against the pillow relentlessly, the coil tightening as you circle your hips. 

Dampness gross underneath you, Frankie’s eyes fixed on where you and Santi’s pillow connect. You’re embarrassingly wet, strings of slick stretching between. Your movements start to slow as your orgasm nears, it’s too much and you have the need to just bend over and let Frankie fuck you hard without any of the games. 

The legs of the footstool drag against the hardwood floors, the sound making you jump. Climbing the bed, he sits on his knees, “Let me feel how wet you are,” he groans. He pushes his hand between your legs without waiting for an answer. He slips a finger in, your eyes rolling back at the pressure. “He can’t get you this wet can he?” he asks rhetorically. “Bet he’d loved to see you getting yourself off like this, coming for another man.” he curses, thrusting into his other hand. 

You hover above the pillow, your thighs starting to shake for exertion. 

“Don’t stop, baby. Come on, soak it—soak it and I’ll fuck you.” 

Your nipples tighten and your skin begins to tingle with arousal. Your head tilts backward and your mouth opens slightly as your body arches and grinds against the pillow. Something devastating builds inside, it builds and builds and builds—builds until you can’t take it anymore. Liquid heat sprays out of you, your walls convulsing as you drip down his hand and soak the pillow, just like he said. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” he murmurs, pulling out his finger and dragging the wet digit over your cheek. He kisses you deeply. “Good fucking girl,” he growls into your mouth, nipping your chin. 

You gasp for breath, your hips slowing but still shaking with pleasure even when you stop. Your mind is in a state of ecstasy. Frankie forces your jaw apart and purses his lips, spitting into your mouth. You jolt when it hits your tongue. “Swallow,” he murmurs. 

“Gonna fuck you now, sweet girl,” he coos. “Gonna claim you on the bed you sleep with him every night,” he chuckles into your mouth. “I’m going to fuck you so good that Pope’s gonna keep wondering why it always smells like sex in here.” 

God, you wish it didn’t but the words and the depravity he said them in makes your skin prickle, an involuntary moan slipping from your lips. 

Frankie turns you over, pulling the pillow under your hips as you remain on all fours. Your arms feel weak, legs still trembling from your orgasm. “F–Frankie,” you slur your words. 

“Don’t worry baby,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth over the small of your back. “I got you, and I’m never gonna let go.” 

He positions Santi’s pillow under your hips, the fabric dark in color from your slick. Your arms finally gave way and you drop face-first into the sheets, you can smell him now, Santi’s pine scent fills your lungs. 

Shit, what the hell is wrong with you? 

“Stop thinking about him,” Frankie hisses from behind you, parting your folds by dragging his length. He lets out a deep sigh before you can answer. “It doesn’t matter, you won’t be able to think of anything else soon anyway.” 

You shudder at the promise of his words. He leans in, the heft of his body covering yours as his lips touch your ear, “I’m gonna come inside this pretty cunt. Then you’re going to squeeze every bit of it out and taste it—Got it?” 

“Y-Yes,” your voice is trembling, your body burning from the inside out. 

Suddenly he grips your nape, squeezing until pain ebbs under the skin. You swallow, tears stinging the corner of your eyes; he doesn’t say a word, pushing his cock between your wet thighs. It’s filthy how he makes you feel, how badly you want to surrender to him. You drool all over him, your walls spasming until the head catches against your clit and a whimper leaves your lips. 

Frankie comes to a halt and his grip around your nape lightens, caressing the skin. 

You let out a little groan as he eases himself inside you. He moves further and further until he’s fully sheathed. A thrill surges through your body. Your eyes roll back at finally faving him inside, a wanton moan falling from your lips. 

Frankie flexes his cock and you groan at the stretch, “Who’s bigger?” he huffs, pushing deeper. Your body becomes limp underneath him. “Me or him.” 

“You,” you manage to garble a response. “You’re so much bigger than him, Frankie.” 

“Yeah?” he pants, chest heaving. “He can’t fuck you like this can he?” 

He presses your hips flush against the pillow, the dampness that touch you scorching your skin. You nod helplessly and claw against the sheets. “He can’t—” you choke out. “Frankie please.” 

He gives you what you want, grinding against you, cock filling you up with every forceful thrust. His ragged moans echo around the room, and you grasp onto the sheets tighter. Every thought is knocked out of your head every time he buries himself into you. Hips bruising where it hits your skin. You reach the peak quickly, that familiar tingle blossoming between your legs. 

“Fuck—” beads of sweat line Frankie’s body, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. “You feel so good, so fucking good.” 

He wraps an arm around you and pulls you out, holding one breast tight. His thumb goes in circles, lust lapping at your tired body as he presses deeper. “I want to feel you coming just on my cock,” he moans into your cheek.

Frankie angles himself in a way that he brushes against something devastating inside of you. It’s like a jolt of electricity, the force of it enough to empty the air in your lungs. He drags his cock over the same spot again and again, his thrust quick paced. You cry out his name when static fills your ears and dots dance over yoru vision. Your head falls back, chest heaving as your body quakes. 

Your cunt continues to squeeze and throb around him, and soon enough, you feel the hot spill of come filling you to the brim. You swear another orgasm washes over you, the flavor of it thick on your tongue as you meet his thrusts. Frankie huffs a tired laugh and grips your asscheeks, spreading them. 

“I can feel you dripping,” he murmurs, you hear the smile in his voice. “Makes me want to stay buried in your forever,” in contrast to his words, Frankie pulls out. “I hope you didn’t forget what I said,” he kisses your neck, long and slow. “Drag that full pussy all over his pillow.” 

You spread your legs wider, rolling your hips over the soft material, you hiss when it brushes over your clit. “S-Shit, Frankie—” 

“Bet he never fucked you like that before,” he remarks. Satisfied with the mess, he gestures you to move away. You practically collaps, head thudding against the headboard. Frankie’s gaze is fixed on the poor pillow, drenched in your slick and his come. 

No matter what Frankie says, you’re not letting Santi sleep on that pillow. You’re fucked up, but you’re not that fucked up. 

Staring at the pillow, reality finally settles in. A sharp inhale parts your lips and Frankie’s eyes snap toward the sound, his gaze searching yours. “There’s no going back from this,” he says. “When’s he coming back?” 

“The day after tomorrow.” 

“Good,” he crawl over to you, taking place between your still trembling legs. He slides his palm up your tigh and presses his mouth against your neck. “That’ll give us more time.” 

You’re too much of a coward to ask time for what. 

[evertidings]

— JANUARY 2024.

accomplishments.

i meant to write this yesterday. and the day before. and, well, yes, also the whole weekend. it's not much of a monthly update when we're already a week into february, but we're ignoring it. time flies; it's so crazy.

i hate to admit it but january was not a good month for me in terms of writing. i really thought my last semester at school would be easy (ha) so i was overestimating how much i could get done. the truth is, i haven't touched when twilight strikes for a while. and it pains me heavily. i wish i was working on that rather than my essays (boooo!!!) but i can't afford a fail when i'm so close to graduating. so, reluctant priorities. in an ideal world, chapter eleven would come out this month. in reality, i have no date. i would love march, but my progress has been so slow i can't guarantee it.

to speak on the little i have written, though, i think it's going really well. i'm diving into some complicated things and while it's challenging, it's also been super fun. i might have mentioned this last month but a lot of things are reaching a culminating point. because of that, the chapter is definitely more plot-driven than fluff, but (don't worry!) at the same time, it's still very character-driven. i don't think it'd be a 'me' chapter if it wasn't. Blane, K and Rylan have whole scenes (K and Rylan are in one scene together, Blane is on their own; i've yet to decide how or if I'm doing it for A and N). i'm really excited for you to read them.

finally, as some of you may know, February is also the month of my anniversary. it'll be three years since i posted my intro post here on tumblr and damn, like i said, time flies. it's funny because i thought it'd be done by now, but hey, here i still am, writing chapter eleven and *struggling* with it. usually, i post some sort of anniversary special, but since i'm so behind this year, i haven't been able to get a start on it. i'm really sorry about this—i was so excited about it too because i know exactly what i want to do. i still plan for it to be released, but just not on the deadline of the actual day, unfortunately. so if anyone was looking forward to that, you'll have to wait.

on a lighter note, i hope you're all doing well! hopefully, february will be kinder to me in terms of assignments <3

[pablitogavii]

can you write any sort of fluff with gavi please. i wanna be loved. love your writing. 💜💜

Our morning routine

You cherished weekends, first because there was no morning classes but mainly because you get to wake up with Pablo. He usually leaves the apartment before you even wake up for his trainings so you don't get morning cuddles as much as you wish over the week.

He always wakes up first and would lay there watching you sleep for hours if he could...cute creep!

"Amor..time to wake up muñeca. Let't start our day off" he said dipping his arms underneath the blankets where you were curled up ignoring completely his request.

His hands were a bit cold so you whined pushing him back and going underneath the blanket which made him chuckle reaching still to pull you closer to his body heat.

"How are you cold when you always steal all the blankets???" he teases like always but not everyone has those Sevillano genes Gavira!!!

"Wakey wakey bebé...I'm not giving up until you open those cute eyes and look at me" he said and you moved closer hiding your face into his neck which made him chuckle at your cute reactions when you're sleepy.

"Five..more..minutes..porf" you said groggily and he shook his head deciding to cuddle you some more until trying to wake you again. He was playing with your hair while you laid on his chest getting even more sleepy.

"That's it! No more scratches for you princesa! Time to wake up!" he groaned and you yawned nodding your head and slowly but surely opening your eyes finally to look into his warm chocolate brown ones.

"Hm..how can you look so good this early in the morning??" you have no filter this early in the morning and he knew that chuckling at your comment while shrugging his shoulder.

"So do you..princesa mia" he said leaning in and pecking your lips as you blushed still very nervous whenever he gets physical like this.

"I look crazy! Look at my hair..god!" you said trying to tame it but Pablo grabbed your wrists pulling them back with a smirk on his face while leaning down to kiss your lips again.

"Hm..I don't mind when I messed it up for you" he said and you knew he was thinking about last night which was simply incredible..everything was just perfect <3

"Basta! Let's get up!" you said feeling a little embarrassed even though he's your boyfriend and it wasn't the first time you've 'loved' each other at night.

"So now you wanna get up, huh?" he smirked pulling you back and snuggling into you as you both giggled and enjoy some more time together in bed.

"Hm..you ready for a shower bonita?" he said after awhile and you smiled nodding your head as you both came to the bathroom taking the shower together..it was one of Pablo's favorite things to do ;)

He was currently leaving kissed all over your your wet neck while you washed his hair not caring that you kept asking him not to distract you.

"If you don't quit messing with me, we won't get anything done today!" you said and just then did his hands grab your boobs with a mischievous smirk on his face.

"Pablo!" you said and he shut you up with a kiss.

"I like messing with you preciosa.." he said while you were both drying yourself and choosing clothes for the day.

"Yeah yeah..but I'm sure you want some breakfast? HUh!?" you say and he quickly nodded promising to behave if you make him your famous omlet.

"Is it ready amor?" he asked for the tenth time already and you giggled at his childish impatience.

"You're such an impatient boy, Pablito.." you said and he smirks pulling you to sit on his lap while you waited leaning in to give him a kiss hopefully making the time pass a bit quicker now.

"There! It's ready! Um..let me go, amor?" you say while he still held you tightly kissing your neck and surely adding more of his marks.

"Hm..did I tell you how grateful I am that you're in my life preciosa? I'm so lucky!!" he said relaxing his grip and you blush at his cute words. Pablo wasn't much of a talker so when he says this you know he means it and that means your heart melts.

You finished the breakfast while talking about random stuff that came to mind and he stopped you from cleaning asking you to get ready while he does it. He always makes sure you split the work whenever he's at home...que precioso es!!!

"Amor, do you want to take a walk together? It's nice outside??" he walked in suddenly freezing when he saw his girl wearing a floral dress looking absolutely breathtaking while finishing her makeup.

"Sure, I'd like that cariño...we can walk to the beach?" you say and he nods snaking his arm around your waist when you walked up to him going on your tip toes and kissing his lips sweetly.

You walked hand in hand in eace enjoying the nice weather and that you were finally together. You didn't mind even when fans stopped you to take pictures with Pablo and he always made sure you were safe and somewhere close to him.

"I have to go guys..promised my girl a walk on the beach. Gracias!" he said finishing up and grabbing your hand while everyone awed snapping photos of the two of you letting you walk in peace.

When you arrived, Pablo put the towel and you sat down looking at the water with you in between his legs and rested back against his strong chest.

"This is perfect amor...I wish we can do this every day" he said and you knew what he was thinking without his having to say anything at all in that moment.

"It's special because it's not every day...don't worry cariño, I understand you can't be here all the time but I know you love me the same" you say and he smiles that you could read his mind like this kissing the top of your head.

"Are you cold preciosa?" he asked noticing goosemups on your arms and you nodded making him immediately take off his hoody and put it over your head.

"Better?" he asked and you smiled with blushed cheeks.

"Much better, thank you.." you said looking back and he took chance to kiss your lips lovingly.

"Now that our morning routine is over, can we go back to bed???" you say teasingly and Pablo laughs out loud. He's so precious when he laughs...and it's a music to your ears!!!

"AMOR!" he said as you both continued to laugh filling the beach with happiness and laughter.

Hope you like it and enjoy it!!!❤️❤️❤️

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Just Another Notch

Bucky Barnes x Plus!Reader Masterlist

Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong. PART 4/? Part 5

An: Hey all, sorry I haven’t updated this baby in months. Gonna try and work on it more from now on. Hopefully it’ll be finished before the end of the year 🤞💜

Word Count: 1,278 (not proofread)

You never found him. After trekking through a path of destruction you realized, you didn’t know where exactly Bruce lives; better yet anywhere besides the lab he considers home. Once large foot prints and fallen trees ceased, so did your trail. You haven’t yet trained on tracking, so someone on foot could allude you indefinitely.

When you made it back to the compound, Friday announced “Stark will see you in his office, Ms. Y/L/N.”. You hadn’t even walked in the door, and already Bruce’s mess was piling up on your lap. As if you had control over a gamma radiated mutant.

Tony had another thing coming If he thinks you’ll pay damages. Your salary consisted of room and board, and a part time paycheck that you sent home to help your parents. Solid wood floors weren’t in your budget.

When you make it to Tony’s office it looks crowded. You can see Natasha, Steve and Bucky all standing around his desk, arms crossed with annoyed looks on their faces. This isn’t good, and it’s all your fault, you should’ve swallowed it, never mentioned it to Bruce.

You knock on the glass door, catching the attention of the the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. Their harsh gaze made you wish your X gene was invisibility. “You wanted to see me, Stark?” You pipe up, hoping the faster you get this over with, the easier it will be. You brave your face to the room, not putting your head down in shame. You won’t let this destroy you, you won’t let bullying ruin the workplace confidence you’d grown.

Tony rolls his eyes, “You know why you’re here, don’t play coy kid.”. Without hesitation You immediately start defending yourself, “I want to be the first one to apologize for the gym floor. I cannot excuse Bruce’s actions, they were not justified in any manor. Destruction of property over measly feelings, if not already, should be a fireable offense. I however have done nothing wrong. I played a part in telling Bruce about the situation, but I never could have foresaw this outcome.” Your chest is heaving when you finish. You’ve kept a neutral look on your face the entire time, meanwhile Tony’s face morphed into confusion, suprise, confusion again and then agreeance.

“Wow, the things I miss not living here.” He laughs, like it was some kind of joke. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, but I’d love for you to tell me the full story later.” You straighten your shoulders, what had you just done? Not only did you snitch on Bruce and yourself, but your pathetic plea was witnessed by three devils. Why are you here then?

You hadn’t done anything else wrong, you haven’t even been on a mission in forever. “Oh, my apologies then, I don’t know why I’m here.” You admit. Now you were unbearably nervous, you didn’t know what to expect. Tony opened a tab on his touch pad inlaid desk, pulling up the picture of an obviously foreign man. His menacing scowl only meant one thing, Hydra.

“Bruno Müller, age 37, served as a hitman for Hydra, much like yours truly.” He waves over to Bucky, giving him stank face. You nod your head, trying to take mental notes. “He was seen last night, on a yacht off the Florida Keys. Intel is saying, he’s hosting a party this weekend, and I want you to be in attendance.” Your head is spinning, you struggle to find the right words.

“What- I mean why me? You have many more capable agents at your disposal.” You’ve lost that workplace professionalism in place of confidence. You know you shouldn’t speak to your boss this way, but who does he think you are, Captain America?

“I would agree to disagree on that. Do not sell yourself short, your capabilities are more than qualified for this mission. But the truth is, no one knows you. You’re faceless.” You try to not let his last words hurt, but you suppose he’s right. It would be a simple plan, get in and get out, right? “What am I doing?” You ask, trying to fit the other three people into the plan somehow. “I need you to first, immerse yourself into this party, let everyone know you’re there. Talk with the women, flirt with the men, drink but don’t get drunk. If someone on this boat has a suspicion of you, it will take a minute for renforcements to arrive. Meaning, fighting off 30+ angry Hydra all by yourself.” He was blatant.

Your anxiety was starting to pick up. You’re not sure you can do it. The two super soldiers behind you instantly notice the shift in your mood. They see the hair on the back of your neck stand, and they can smell the sheen of sweat covering your body. Steve genuinely feels pity for you.

Tony continues, “Infiltrate his office, access his computer and download all of his files onto this bad boy right here.” He pulls a bracelet out of thin air. He gently unclasps it, revealing a usb drive hidden inside. “The second you plug it in, a virus will download onto his computer, corrupting the files, for any further use, and it will immediately download them, bypassing any need for passwords.”

Once he finished you had nothing to say. Well, you had plenty to say, but you couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself further. “So, why are they here?” You finally ask, daring to make eye contact with Steve. His eyes weren’t as harsh as you expected.

“Every secret agent needs an intel team, and a guy in their ear, these two are your intel team, and Barnes is your new conscious.” Great. Now instead of playing along with him, you’re forced to be in their presence. You let the heroes behind you groan in place. They must’ve already debriefed, they had no witty remarks or protests.

“When do I leave?” You ask, just wanting to get out of the room at this point. You need to let yourself process everything, before you overload and overstimulate. “Tonight.” You give him a curt nod and leave before your team could ask you any questions. There would be plenty of time for that on the flight there.

Your brain is racing. Maybe it’s the combination of everything happening so far today and it’s only 9am. Or it’s the straps on the sports bra absolutely obliterating your shoulders. You’re pacing down to the simulation room, the only place you can go to escape.

You’re manically talking to yourself when you swing the door open. “How the actual fuck does he expect me to do this alone?” You ask no one. Seeing the empty desk chair Bruce left in its exact spot was enough to send you crumbling to your feet. Pressing your back against the door, squeezing your knees as close to your chest as possible. Bruce isn’t even here to console you because you fucked that up too. You bang the back of your head on the door, “What the fuck is wrong with me?”.

You doubt you’d see Bruce before you left, which meant you wouldn’t see him till you returned, which is never promised, better yet scheduled. You needed answers, why did be react like that? Wrapping your head around it was impossible, unbeknownst to you, Bruce sat pressed against his front door, his head in his hands, wondering why he can’t control his anger. Wondering if he’d scared you away forever, you’d never seen him as hulk before, just Bruce. He knew you liked just Bruce, but now there’s no telling.

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Andromeda

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader, Ophelia Frump x Reader

Warnings:angst

Pt2: Act Two

“No Larissa” I huff attempting to close the dorms door on her “no?” She asked surprised “yes Larissa I said no, I’m done playing second best- the second choice I’m sorry that Morticia wasn’t into you”.

Larissa, Morticia her sister Ophelia and I had all been friends since the beginning of Nevermore while I was in love with Larissa she was head over heels for Morticia. Ophelia oh Ophelia she was harder to tell, we became best friends after Larissa pulled away from me and still I don’t know if she even has a crush.

“I- Y/n” her mouth opened and shut “I have loved you since we met Lis, we were best friends and now we’re here. Maybe if things had been different I would’ve agreed but not anymore”.

-

The year before

-

I laid with my head in Morticia’s lap as she ran her nimble fingers through my hair, Larissa rested her head on Ophelia’s shoulder while we rested under the oak tree. I admired Larissa’s beauty wishing it had been my shoulder her head was on, I knew she was in love with Morticia but Mortcia… she had fallen for Gomez.

“Do you think any of us will get married?” I asked absent minded “I will” Morticia smiled to herself “Maybe with the right person” Ophelia shrugged. “What about you blondie?” She asked Larissa who shook her head “I agree, maybe with the right person” I nodded “hopefully we’re all here to see it happen”

-

“Hey Lissa, want to go to the wethervane with me tomorrow?” I asked her almost nervously as I walked to her table. “I’m busy studying tomorrow” she spoke without looking up “oh that’s fine” I smiled sadly, Larissa always made time for the wethervane.

I still went to the wethervane the next day but with Ophelia instead, I saw the blonde as soon as I entered “she told me she was busy studying”. Larissa sat across from Morticia staring dreamily at the girl and I don’t blame her Morticia was gorgeous.

“Yeah studying my sisters features” Ophelia snorted “but lets not worry about that okay?” She smiled as she dragged me to the counter my order loose on her tongue.

-

After the wethervane Larissa pulled away more as the year passed us by, Ophelia and I got closer while our little group crumbled. Morticia always flaked for Gomez while Larissa flaked for Morticia and my oh my Ophelia she was amazing.

Somehow “just friends” became more

When the Raven arrived Larissa had asked Morticia as her date but she was going with Gomez which led her here. At my dorm door asking me as her date “no” Ophelia asked me this morning with daffodils in hand my favourite flowers.

-

20 years later

-

Larissa sat at her desk looking over files of the new students before one catches her eye Andromeda Frump. It made her think of you, often she thought of you and all of her regrets, did you have children? Were you married?. She wouldn’t read further into the file.

She remembered you telling her during your first year that you would name your child something different something that held meaning. You told her lists of names Andromeda being one of them because you and her would watch the stars every night.

Larissa didn’t want to pry further it was bad enough that Wednesday had started Nevermore and had to be stuck in the past every time she saw her face. It became worse when she bumped into not one but both girls the next day she swore her heart stopped.

Andromeda looked exactly like you, exactly as you did all those years ago…

Frump was Morticia and Ophelia’s maiden name “ahh miss Frump just the girl I wanted to see” the blonde smiled. Confusing the girls “it’s nothing bad darling, just curiosity” Larissa chuckled placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Are your parents coming this weekend?” Andromeda nodded “my mama is” she smiled softly as she stared up at the blonde. Wednesday already knew what she meant just by how the blondes eyes held a deep curiosity and excitement.

The girls already knew that the principal and their mothers had been best friends during Nevermore, you had kept the pictures hidden away. They found them of course but they never said anything to you or anyone else besides one another. Andromeda knew you had been in love before Ophelia just as Ophelia had been in love before you.

Larissa smiled brightly as her hands clasped against her front “lovely, I’ll see you then” Wednesday fought the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t silly, your old diary’s were like a museum that the girls slowly read through over the years.

Larissa had been your first love

[the---hermit]

04|01|2024

I woke up at 5.30 because of nightmares. I had terrible night and I was so done. I just made myself a cup of tea and read for a bit, and accepted that the day would be long. I definitely ran out of energies sooner than usual. I wish I had managed to do a bit more, but good enough. Tomorrow in the afternoon I should be able to get a good amount of studying done and hopefully in the weekend I'll finish my first general review before moving to an in depth one.

calm hobbit winter activities:

read first thing in the morning (and finished my book for which a review will come out soon)

posted a couple of things that have been in my drafts for a while

daily Irish practice on duolingo

started writing down the key phrases of each unit (this is step one of me getting a bit more serious with my language learning)

practiced French on duolingo (I am still working on reviewing units I had done in the past)

wrote the first draft of two book reviews

continued my first out loud review of the lecture notes of my power practices and men theories class

updated my reading journal with my first reads of the year

📖: Resurgir curated by Lorenzo Incarbone

[gothcsz]

Hi, big time fandom lurker here! For real I rarely pull up into people's inboxes, just out here on main aka in my office cube at work being secretly horny and occasionally telling my absolute favorites thank you so much for all you do. So I wanted to say the latest Unscripted Desire fucked me up so bad. I loved it. As you said, you really locked the fuck in bestie. Frankie in the Ghostface mask was the Halloween version of a Christmas miracle, so I guess just a Halloween miracle? Going to take me a second to recover from that. And really just everything about Javi. Him basically groveling but being still being Javi. I died when he said he's not popping a pill to get hard like out of principle or something and also not giving reader more out of principle, too. It is all so Javi coded! You write the BEST Javi and you're just an amazing writer in general, hope you know that, always so excited whenever you post anything.

Also, hopefully this is not annoying, but I would lowkey be remiss if I did not ask. Have you ever read Roommates by @punkshort? It is a pornstar!Joel series. I only point it out because I fully think you deserve a goddamn Pulitzer for best pornstar!Javi and she deserves one for best pornstar!Joel. No clue how that award works, but it should work that way. She mostly writes Joel so you two probably are not familiar with each other's game, BUT both UD and Roommates WIN pornstar trope in this fandom. Seriously. I would actually fight anyone who says otherwise. Nobody has done it better and I seriously doubt anyone can do it better than you two! I think pornstar!Frankie is still available for the taking though. ❤️

hey diva (gn) ! you're so real for the being horny at work bc like... same 😪 omg thank you so much what the hell !! this is so nice of you to say, i'm like doing backflips at my desk right now no joke !! i def understand the whole lurking thing, it can be kinda intimidating to interact but i finally pushed myself out of my own head and now here we are 🧍🏽‍♀️ DJHFJAKSDFHKASDF

please don't get me started on ghostface frankie bc i will slip into a tangent he's so hottttt it makes me want to peel my skin off. just picturing his voice saying the line... lord have mercy im bout to bust (rip leslie jordan) a HALLOWEEN MIRACLE INDEED! A TREAT IF YOU WILL!

dude i freaking love writing javi like his character is so interesting to me and honestly the type of character i gravitate to when it comes to writingggg and even then i still feel like i'm being a little too ooc sometimes so i have to brainwash myself with narcos clips lol arhghggh so happy to hear that you like my portrayal wtf you got me all flustered, gracias bebe i really appreciate it 😭 and that you're into my writing style too ughhhh on my knees for you rn 🖤

i really wish you guys could look into the dossiers i have in my brain abt this world (or any of my aus tbh) CAUSE LITERALLY OUT OF PRINCIPLE!! so much i could say but yes, we are on the same page.

not annoying and unfortunately i have not read that fic but now you've just given me something to binge this weekend so THANK YOUUU omg not the pppfu (pedro pascal pornstar fic universe) ikdr @punkshort i was unfamiliar with your game 🫦 and every other pornstar au out there we really out here in this subgenre killing it lol pleaseeee no fighting let's leave that to the fictional characters, we're lover girls (gn) out here.

but not seriously someone take one for the team and give us single father pornstar!frankie doing it to provide for his kid ofmgmfgmfmgf

(me to me when i ramble: we do not care)

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Extended Families Shorts

Neon: Hey-Hey Ci-Ci!

Chai: Neon! How's my Favorite Faunus Cousin Doing?

Neon: She's doing pretty Good! How's the new heart?

Chai: Beating to the beat of the Drums! And yours will be too when I give you ...

Chai: *patting his pockets* Give you ...

808: *Carrying a pair of paper slips in her mouth* Mrrow?

Chai: Oh! thanks a ton 808!

Neon: Are those-

Chai: Tickets to Bunk Bed Junction's Concert this Weekend!

Neon: I- how- When did you-

Chai: Well, Miss Vandeley was pretty hyped about me getting her out of Kale's whole "Mind Control" Schtick, so she gave me a pretty rocking Sign-On bon-AH!

Neon: *Hugging Chai with all her might* THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

Chai: *Strained* Not a problem! Now please put me down I can't breathe-

~~~~~

Beatrix: So looks like the little Farm kid finally put his hiking boots on!

Oscar: Auntie Bea? What- How did you find me?

Beatrix: A little birdy told me where to find you! and I figured visiting old stomping grounds isn't too bad sometimes! What have you been up to?

Oscar: Oh ... You know ... This, that, and the other thing?

Beatrix: Really now? You make the trek from Mistral to Beacon for no reason in Particular?

Oscar: ... Yes.

Beatrix: ...

Beatrix: Well that's great! you finally got that Wanderlust! I thought I'd be the only one in the family to make new tracks! Tell me everything You've seen, and heard, and done on your travels!

Oscar: Only if-

Beatrix: *Hands Oscar a bottle of Honey*

Oscar: Okay, so the first time I killed a Grimm ...

~~~~~

Blacksmith: You two wish to see the world?

Princess: A few, Here and there- Just a chance to be "Normal" after the all of that "Echo" and "Construct" and "Forever Killing each other" business.

TLQ: Yeah, Nasty Business that.

Blacksmith: Very well then. Quiet, You'll need to shaped into something more fitting of the world of Remnant, and you'll need to call each other by more conventional Names. Is that alright?

TLQ: I'm okay with it. It'll be new. Different.

Princess: *Flirting* And you Love "different" Don't you?

TLQ: I should say I do~ *The Look*

Princess: *Cupping his cheek* Hmm~ I'm going to miss that Beak of yours~ Hopefully your tongue-

Blacksmith: OKAY THEN! Let's workshop some Ideas on Names and a new look -Clothes for you, Princess, and a new Everything for Quiet.

Princess: *Annoyed* Very well Then.

TLQ: Alright. I'm game. You could've waited a moment more, though.

Blacksmith: I very well Couldn't.

[wellbelesbian]

Seven Sentence Sunday

thanks for tagging me @hushed-chorus!

here's another snippet from my Shoulder To Shoulder sequel fic. i had originally wanted to post it yesterday as that was the day of Durham Miner's Gala, but didn't finish it on time, so i'll just post it when i get it done.

Even the yellow and white LGSM banner is smaller than most here, made with wood, fabric and paint we could get for cheap from hardware and crafts stores.

"Now, that's just showing off." Niamh rolls her eyes as another banner passes us. It's twice the size of most of the others, a portrait of four bland, blonde men shaking hands while limply holding a clover, thistle, rose and daffodil. At the top it reads Durham Miner's Association, Trimdon Grange Colliery, and at the bottom, Unity is strength.

"Do you think they're compensating for something?" Agatha nudges Baz suggestively and he shakes his head with a chuckle.

rambling and banner photos below the cut

i'm allowed to make fun of the trimdon grange banner, it's my hometown's and everyone agrees is stupidly large and hard to carry. why does it need this massive red trim? just to be big and obnoxious!

(picture is my own)

anyway. i said this in my author's note at the beginning of Shoulder To Shoulder, but my great uncle Tommy (my grandad's big sister's husband) was a big figure in the Miner's Union. he died of cancer about ten years back and hundreds of miners came to his funeral to pay their respects.

his side of the family lives pretty far away, and i don't get to see them often, but yesterday was Durham Big Meeting (also known as the Miner's Gala), a huge gathering of ex-miners where they march with their banners. it's a celebration and memorial in one. and this year, my uncle has been painted on a new banner (he's the one in the middle), so my extended family came up for the weekend. turnout was actually lower than usual due to the rain, but ah well.

my great auntie, his wife, asks me every time i see her "have you got a girlfriend yet?" (i'm chronically single 😭) and told me she wishes her husband had still been alive when their grandson came out, and could have met his boyfriend. i have every faith that he would have been an ally, just like her. he was such a strong, funny, loving man.

so yeah. this new fic was inspired by that banner (also the Mark Ashton Trust and LGSM banners) and the Miner's Gala, and then I decided to explore more things Simon and Baz would have lived through between the end of STS and now.

hopefully i can finish it in at least a somewhat timely manner.

tags and hellos: @forabeatofadrum @j-nipper-95 @artsyunderstudy @that-disabled-princess @prettygoododds @confused-bi-queer @imagineacoolusername @ic3-que3n @aristocratic-otter @larkral @ivelovedhimthroughworse @cutestkilla @shemakesmeforget @fatalfangirl @ebbpettier @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @alexalexinii @youarenevertooold @shrekgogurt @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon @shutup-andletme-go @supercutedinosaurs @theearlgreymage @ileadacharmedlife @alleycat0306 @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @comesitintheclover @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony and @noblecorgi

[galvanizedfriend]

YOKAN!!!!! I MISS YOU!!!!! CAN I GET ANY OF YOUR FIC UPDATE BEFORE END OF THIS MONTH!!!! I MISS READING KLAROLINE THROUGH YOUR WORDS!!!!!🥹🥹😭😭😭😭

SORRY for the above spam dear 😔 have really bad days for really long time so missing KLAROLINE and Your fics a bit more these days 🥲

I know you are SUPER BUSY so its okay, whenever you find time to write something or anything, even a small one short from you would do wonders to my days🫰😭💕

Lots of love and motivation to you ❤️🫂🥰

Hope you get the required time to write something 😉🫶

(P.S - Sorry this message is not to disturb you, don't take it the wrong way😭😭 THIS is some motivation from your lovely, stupid fan 🤧)

I owe everyone an explanation 😔

I never meant to take so long to update the story, I genuinely thought I could have another chapter finished in less than a month, but I underestimated how much work I'd have around this time and clearly overestimated my ability to juggle everything.

My work is related to the Olympics, so you can imagine how busy a time this has been. The entire year has been pretty insane in preparation, but the last two months or so especially, and it hasn't even started yet.

I have done some writing, but tbh I have been working so much that I don't think anything I wrote is even salvageable. It probably won't survive a thorough editing, so I might have to start over. And I probably have less than 20% of the chapter completed anyway. And that's just The Wolf, the other WIPS haven't even been opened in months.

In times like this I end up having to choose whether to write or sleep or work or go outside for a couple of hours and see the light of day or go to the gym and in this context writing has sadly been the last thing on my priorities list. :( Not because I don't want to write, but because I simply don't have enough hours on my day.

I'm heading out to Paris this weekend and I won't be back until the Olympics are over, so I'm very sorry but it will be a minute before I have any updates :( I wish I had been able to churn out at least half a chapter, but I struggled a lot with inspiration on the little time I had to write. I remember my original plan was to have six chapters out by now lol What was I smoking?

Sp I'm very, very sorry to you and everyone who has been waiting for updates and sending me messages asking about next chapters. 😔 I really tried, guys, but sometimes things do be this way. Hopefully it will be easier after August.