#thank you to anyone reading this with an open mind

[purlturtle]

For people asking how to find a good balance between staying informed and not obsessing, here's what has helped me most:

Follow only two news outlets: a national one and a local one. Neither are prone to click-baity headlines, which helps as well. Both are reputable and middle-of-the-road in terms of political bias.

Follow them not on social media, but more like "reading the morning newspaper and watching one news show at night" style: I have an RSS feed app that congregates the headlines from the above two sources, and I check it once in the morning and once at night (if that). This means I'm not inundated everywhere all the time, but at a time of my choosing.

Corollary to this: no notifications on my phone. I get notifications for messages from specific people, for emails in a very strongly spam-protected account, and that is *it*. Anything else, I see if and when I decide to open the respective app. *I decide*, not someone pushing notifications. Not even for Tumblr. It's all off.

Mute any keywords for news that trigger you (if you feel like you mustn't, here's your permit: I herewith give you express permission to protect yourself from any such topic), as well as news that upsets you - especially if you can't do anything about it and it doesn't impact you. I have A LOT of American news buzzwords and names blocked, because I am not US-American, don't live there, can't vote there, and it just upsets me and I can't do anything about it.

If I do see posts about something like that that weren't caught by my blocklist, I mute them individually (thanks, Xkit!), or add a new word to the blocklist.

This includes fundraising posts, if that upsets you (for example because you don't have money to spare or don't have the spoons to vet such posts). Again, if you need permission to look away, let me give you it: you don't have to, if it upsets you. Not even to signal boost! Protecting your mental health is worth it. I have closed my asks completely, and messages for people who don't follow me - I was getting just oodles of fundraising asks that I could not mentally handle, and had to cut that out of my Tumblr experience.

I also block or unfollow users that have doom-y vibes, mean vibes, who mainly blog upsetting stuff. And I make it a habit to reblog, on my own blog, political posts only if they have at minimum something actionable attached to the upsetting part, such as templates to write to your representatives, reputable petition links, etc.

I come to Tumblr to have a good time. It is valid to curate your Tumblr experience in such a way that you *have* a good time here. And this is the way I have chosen. Last but not least:

In the lead up to elections in your area, if and when you want to be informed about who you vote for, by all means take a specific time frame (say, an hour every Saturday or something) to look up candidates and what they're running on, as well as past decisions they've made.

Picking a time frame for this will help you not obsess, and still get the info you need.

Make that time frame as small as necessary to work for you, and stick to it.

Check the reputability of the sources you find!

You are allowed to not fill every waking hour with upsetting shit. You are allowed to look away. (I *liberally* block any post who tries to "raise awareness" by trying to guilt-trip me into looking. That shit is not worth anyone's time.) You are allowed to find good news and surround yourself with them. You are allowed to rest and recuperate and laugh and be merry; you don't have to (make yourself) suffer because the world is bad for someone else.

Yes, practice compassion. But, view your own compassion as a finite resource (because it is! Compassion fatigue is a thing!), and be mindful where you turn it to!

Really been mulling this over a lot lately.

[faithsotherhouseofchaos]

Could I please request max x female autistic! reader (childhood friends to lovers if possible) where reader is nonverbal. I’ll leave the rest of the plot line to you because I’m not a very creative individual.

For me||Max verstappen x fem!nonverbal autistic!reader

summary—max has known you his entire life and never heard you speak until three little words to him.

Word count -570

Max Verstappen met you when he was a little boy at the karting track, just starting to chase his dream of being the fastest. You didn’t talk, but that didn’t bother him. From the moment you smiled and pointed at his kart with a curious glint in your eyes, Max decided he liked you.

“Do you want to see how fast it goes?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly, and Max grinned. That was how it started: Max showing off his karting skills, and you cheering him on in your quiet, unique way.

Years passed, and Max’s career skyrocketed. Karting turned into Formula 3, and then Formula 1. But no matter how far he traveled or how busy he got, you remained a constant in his life. You supported him from afar, watching every race and texting him your congratulations after each one. Max relied on you in a way he didn’t with anyone else. You understood him, even when he couldn’t find the words to explain himself.

He never minded that you didn’t talk. You communicated with gestures, expressions, and the notebook you always carried. It was your way, and Max respected that.

But then came that night.

Max had just returned home to Monaco after winning a grueling race in Japan. Exhausted but exhilarated, he invited you over to celebrate. You sat together on his couch, sharing a quiet moment as the city lights sparkled outside.

“You were incredible out there,” you wrote in your notebook, showing him the words with a proud smile.

Max chuckled, leaning back against the cushions. “Thanks. You always know how to make me feel good about myself, huh?”

You nodded, then hesitated, fidgeting with the pen in your hand. Max noticed the shift in your demeanor immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you.

You glanced at him, your eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite read. Then, for the first time in all the years he’d known you, you spoke.

“I love you.”

The words were soft, almost a whisper, but they hit Max like a thunderclap. His eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process what had just happened.

“You… you spoke,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your cheeks flushing as you looked away, nervous about his reaction.

Max reached out, gently turning your face back toward him. “Say it again,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

“I love you,” you repeated, a little louder this time.

Max’s face broke into a wide grin, his heart pounding in his chest. “I love you too,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can’t believe it. You spoke—for me.”

You pulled back slightly, shaking your head as you pointed to yourself.

“For you,” Max corrected, understanding immediately. “Because you wanted me to know.”

You nodded, and Max laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t have to say it for me to know, but… hearing it? That’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He held your hands tightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You smiled, tears pricking your eyes as you leaned into him. In that moment, words didn’t matter again. They never really had. But now, Max knew just how much you loved him—and he’d never forget the moment you chose to say it.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

-

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime. 

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige  When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away. 

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space. 

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit. 

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun. 

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?” 

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige. 

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

-

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?” 

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts. 

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine. 

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to. 

-

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact. 

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass. 

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

 “Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail. 

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?” 

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant. 

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

-

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter. 

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly. 

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time. 

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me. 

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | read on AO3

summary: Joel and reader finally make it back to the hotel & all that sexual tension is resolved. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv (very stupid, wrap it up kids), creampie, cunnilingus, face-sitting, (resolved) sexual tension, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasm (not really? kinda sorta?), smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair

Note: finally, the last part is here! I hope you’ll enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing this. It’s one in the morning so forgive any typos — I wanted to post today. Thank you for the consistent love on this story, I really appreciate all your messages and comments <3

Joel positively drags you back to the hotel, one arm slung across your shoulder, your hastily packed bags in the other. He’s quiet, and you’re afraid that talking will break the spell, that he will hear your voice and remember who you are, and what he’s planning on doing to you. You’re nervous. Excited, yes, but nervous – you’ve been with people before, drunken hookups with collage boys who wanted to get off as quickly as possible. None of it felt like this, you didn’t want any of them as people. With them, it was about the sex itself, with Joel it is almost entirely about him.

Your thoughts are racing in your head, insecurities bubbling up inside of you, things that didn’t matter when you slept with those other people you barely knew – will Joel mind that you aren’t clean shaven? Does he expect you to be more experienced than you are? Are you even good in bed, or will he be underwhelmed, and secretly think you are pathetic?

You want this, more than you have wanted to be with someone maybe ever. But that want makes you vulnerable, strips you of any nonchalance you might have clung to if Joel was anyone else. He isn’t some collage boy who won’t remember you in the morning, he is your father’s best friend, for whom you are a more than controversial choice. Sleeping with you is a threat to his friendship with your father, and still, he’s ready to risk it, he pretty much told you as much. That gives it a level of importance you aren’t used to when it comes to sex.

When you reach the hotel, Joel hurries past the reception before the kind lady can stop you, and despite your nervousness, it amuses you. Joel presses the button to the elevator impatiently, making your stomach flutter. He’s so shameless in his desire for you, not embarrassed by this open display of wanting to get to his room as quickly as possible. You would have worried about looking needy, but not Joel. He’s secure, and solid, and unflinching.

The doors open, and as soon as you’re inside, Joel crowds you against the wall of the elevator, catching your lips in a kiss, before moving his mouth to your neck. You exhale shakily at the feeling of him sucking on your skin, the beard burn a surprisingly welcome sensation.

"They’ve got cameras," you breathe, a weak attempt at regaining some sort of dignity, while Joel quickly unravels you under his mouth and hands.

"Fine by me," he just answers, "Should ask them for a copy to take home with me."

Your knees threaten to buckle at those words, his admission that this isn’t just a holiday hookup, that he will want you just as much when you have left this paradise and returned to the world outside of your bubble.

"Careful, baby," he says, one hand holding you steady by the waist, his lips ghosting over your jawline.

Baby.

With a sudden ding!, the doors open again, and an elderly couple steps inside. Joel stops kissing you, but doesn’t step away, his hand still on your waist, his big body still close to yours. You offer the couple an awkward smile, and barely register the judgement in their eyes as their gazes flicker over Joel’s hair specked with white, because Joel’s hand starts moving again. He slips it under your shirt, no his shirt, rough fingers drawing featherlight patterns on your sensitive waist. His touch is teasing, clearly meant to get some sort of reaction out of you in front of these strangers. Joel’s getting off on this, you realize, on being seen with you, on people knowing just what he plans on doing once you’ve reached the third floor. You bite the inside of your cheek and do your best not to let show how you ache for him, how his gentle touches are affecting you. If you look at him, you know your resolve will crumble, so you pointedly look at a point over his shoulder, and try not to shudder.

As soon as the doors open again, you and Joel get moving, and a nervous chuckle escapes you when you meet his eye. His expression is hard to read – blatant desire, but also something more gentle, something that calms your nerves. It’s Joel. He didn’t leave you hanging when you needed to borrow a bike, didn’t make you feel stupid or guilty for it being stolen, and he won’t make you feel stupid now. That’s what you like the most about him, you think, as his hand ghosts over your back and he leads you towards his room, the way he makes you feel at ease. Whatever the opposite of shame is, that’s what Joel brings out in you.

You reach the door, and want to push it open, but Joel stops you, tilting your face towards him with a gentle touch.

"You don’t have to do this," he says seriously, "we can just go back to the beach. No hard feelings."

You appreciate his consideration, the way he seems to be aware of a certain kind of pressure or expectation his age creates for you, but the idea of going back now, when you’re so close to what you want, makes you want to weep.

"Getting cold feet?", you ask lightly, and he smiles at you, a fond smile, one that seems oddly out of place given the situation.

"I’m just sayin’, I get it if you changed your mind or something. I assume this isn’t the way you…usually do things."

"No," you say, holding his eye contact. "Usually they’re twenty-five years younger."

Joel’s face is a perfect mask, not sure what to make of your remark. You reach up, your hand gently touching his beard, and your eyes glide over the wrinkles around his eyes from years of laughter, the white in his hair, his warm irises.

"God…you’re so fucking sexy," you breathe, and there it is again, that color his cheeks only turn when you compliment him.

"I haven’t changed my mind, Joel," you say honestly, looking directly into his eyes. "Have you?"

"No."

His voice is deep, and he finally, finally opens the door, eyes still on yours.

As soon as Joel pulls you into the room, his lips are on yours again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as he walks you over towards the bed. He’s bigger than you, much bigger, and it only really occurs to you when your knees give out under you, and you land on the bed, sitting in front of him and gazing up.

He looks imposing, almost threatening, if it wasn’t for that expression he has on his face – something behind the desire. You feel safe in his hands, safe to give yourself over, not just in the physical sense. He looks so capable, so easy to trust. His hand comes up to your face, tilting your head up, and you move easily for him, letting him mold you in any way he wants.

"That couple," you begin as you watch him watch you, take you in, "they knew exactly what we were doing."

His hand travels over your throat, and although he doesn’t squeeze, it’s exhilarating to think how well it fits into his palm. You shudder as he pops open the first button of your shirt – his shirt.

"You liked it," you add, voice breathy as the tips of his fingers ghost over your collarbone.

His eyes snap up to yours, and you give a small smile, almost teasing.

"Didn’t hear you complainin’," he answers, holding your eye contact. "Think I should mark you up, so that the reception lady knows, too."

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but you press your thighs together to relieve that terrible ache. Joel notices, and smirks almost imperceptibly, opening another button on your shirt. He’s taking his time, building tension by making you wait. He’s good at this, you think.

"But then she would stop calling you my Daddy," you breathe, trying hard not to close your eyes under Joel’s touch. Joel cocks an eyebrow, hands lingering on your shirt.

"Don’t tell me you enjoyed that, kid," he says, voice low, eyes intense. You flush, and wonder if he’ll kick you out now, if you have finally made things too weird to continue, but Joel keeps gazing at you, ever steady.

"Cat’s got your tongue?"

You swallow, and let out a shaky exhale. Joel pops open another button.

"That why you kept repeatin’ it to me? Cause it turned you on?"

He’s teasing you, dragging it out of you despite your embarrassment. He wants you to revel in just how debauched it is what the two of you are doing, and you get closer to giving in with every second. Joel’s fingers trace over the swell of your chest, finally visible now that he’s opened most of the buttons, and a weak sound escapes you.

"’S that it, baby?"

"Yes," you breathe finally, your cheeks burning. Joel’s answering smile seems oddly satisfied, as he opens the last button, lets the shirt glide over your shoulders and slump down on the bed in a little heap of linen. You swallow.

"Yes," he repeats, eyes trailing over your body. You wish he’d hurry up and get his hands on you, but with the way slick steadily leaks into your swimsuit, you can’t really complain. He sure knows how to play you like an instrument.

"Say it, then," he says curtly, a simple order, and you briefly close your eyes. It’s almost too good. His eyes are locked onto yours when you open them, expectant and blown wide with desire. He has stopped moving, and you realize he wants to hear you say it before he’ll go any further.

"I��I want to call you Daddy."

Your stomach curls up with need when you hear Joel groan, his resolve quickly crumbling, as he crashes his lips against yours again. He licks into your mouth with urgency, and it’s possessive in a way it wasn’t before, like he wants to claim your mouth. The thought makes you whimper, and Joel trails one hand over your side and down to the waistband of your swimsuit. You didn’t bother putting on your shorts again, just walked to the hotel in your bikini and shirt. His fingers slide under the thinnest part, right on your hip, and he lets it snap against your body. It doesn’t hurt, but the sound makes you groan.

His hands roam over your body relentlessly, squeezing, and tracing, and feeling the swell of your hips, the dip of your navel, your spine, your breasts. You almost don’t notice him undoing your swimsuit, until he slides off the top part, and runs one finger over your pebbled nipples. Your back arches and your hips twitch towards him, but he doesn’t give in yet, just teases the sensitive nubs while you whimper into his mouth.

Then he unties the little bows on your hips, and just like that you’re bare before him, your swimsuit coming undone with one tug of his fingers, while he’s still fully dressed. He’s disturbingly good at undressing you, something that used to be an obstacle to sex now a sensual part of it. You want to feel embarrassed at the amount of wetness between your legs, but when Joel’s fingers slide over your stomach and down to your throbbing core, he groans into your mouth.

"Jesus, you’re drippin’," he breathes against your lips, breaking away to watch his hand press circles into your clit. You try hard not to twitch under his gaze, his blazing eyes and skilled touch. Another whimper escapes you, as he keeps rubbing and watching your reaction, like he wants to take you in before continuing.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he gets you to the brink of an orgasm, but when your hips twitch towards him with little control, he stops, his eyes meeting yours again. You watch him lift his hand up to his mouth and suck his fingers clean, eyes not leaving yours. It’s the most erotic thing you have ever seen, the way he closes his eyes at the taste, and you wonder how you haven’t come yet.

"I’m gonna eat you out," he says, and it’s not a question. Immediately, insecurity floods your veins – you haven’t had someone do that before, and the men you have heard speak about it said they didn’t enjoy it.

"You don’t…I mean, you can just…", your voice trails off. Joel stops in his tracks, watching your face and cocking a brow.

"You ever been eaten out?"

"No," you say quietly, "and you don’t have to."

"I know I don’t have to," he says, and he sounds almost affronted, like he can’t believe you would think he didn’t enjoy it. "You want me to?"

"I just…know some people don’t enjoy it much," you mumble and look down. Joel’s hand comes up to your face, tipping your chin so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

"I want you to come on my tongue," he says, "and then again on my fingers."

You almost whine at that, embarrassment seeping out of you easily, and Joel traces his thumb over your lips. You let it slip into your mouth and suck, swirling your tongue around it.

"Alright? You let me take care of you," he mumbles, eyes trained on his finger between your lips.

"Okay," you say, when his thumb slips from your mouth, and then quietly add "Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, and a wave of heat rushes to your loins. It’s fucked, what you’re doing, completely fucked, but so good you think you might cry. You were scared thinking about it for too long would break the spell you two seem to be under, but the more you do, the more turned on you get. You have Joel Miller in front of you, calling you a good girl and about to make you orgasm multiple times.

"Lie back, baby," Joel says, and you do, sinking into the pillow that smells like him. Joel keeps watching you, and when he kneels down on the bed and gently spreads your legs with his hands, you think you might come from just that sight. But you hold on, because something about Joel wanting to eat you out, not even having taken off his own clothes, makes you curious. 

He kisses your ankle and trails his mouth upwards, over your inner thigh and your hipbone, until you almost tremble.

"Jesus, Joel," you mutter, hips twitching on the bed, trying to get closer to him without your permission. He looks up at you, pressing his thumb to your clit again, and you curse. It’s not exactly painful, but it’s so much, almost too much.

"That what you call me?"

He doesn’t let up, his touch so insistent, you wonder how he expects you to come up with a single word.

"S-sorry," you stutter, grinding against his hand. "Daddy."

It thrills you to use that word, to know it gets Joel off, enough that he chastises you for using his real name.

"That’s right," he answers, and finally he lets up, placing his big palm on your thigh instead. Then, he leans down, and presses his mouth to your clit, flicking his tongue over it. It’s unlike anything you have felt before, and you actively have to will your hips to stop twitching, afraid to somehow hurt Joel. But he notices, ever perceptive, and breaks away, his mouth and beard already covered in your wet.

"Get up," he says, and you feel your anxiety rise again, questions of what you could have done wrong. He waits, but raises his eyebrows.

"You wanna come, or not?"

So you sit up, confused, and watch as Joel lies down on his back.

"Straddle me," he orders, and you move towards his lap, but he shakes his head. "Over my face, come on, baby."

You stare at him. His expression softens when he sees your disbelief, and he gives you a smile.

"Told you I’d make you come on my tongue, didn’t I?"

"Yeah, but Joel, that’s…"

Your voice trails off. You aren’t sure what you want to say – dangerous? Really fucking hot? You’re still sitting by his side, when he strokes one hand over your thigh, a soothing touch.

"I don’t know where you get the idea from that I don’t enjoy eatin’ you out," he says, his voice almost stern, "but you get that right outta your pretty head. Now, will you do as I say and sit on your Daddy’s face?"

Your mind goes a little blank when Joel calls himself that, and you feel helpless to do anything but nod, give him what he really seems to want.

"Words, baby."

His hand trails up your thigh and over your stomach.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, looking directly into your eyes, his strong hands grabbing your waist and helping you move, hoisting you up until you’re hovering over his face.

"If I need to breathe, I’ll tap your thigh, alright?"

"Yes," you breathe, quickly adding "Daddy".

Joel’s hands force your hips downward and although the sensation of his mouth under you is exactly what your throbbing clit was begging for, you’re tentative and unsure of what to do – you don’t want to hurt Joel. 

"Move, baby, make yourself feel good," you hear Joel say, voice muffled by your body. You rock your hips forward once, and let out a groan – your clit bumps into his nose, and you feel him lick into your folds. His hands grab your hips, and he starts rocking you against his face, setting the rhythm for you, and and you feel yourself leak onto his face and into his mouth, as you start moving along with him. His beard feels scratchy in the most delicious way, as he lets you fuck yourself on his mouth, his thick tongue darting out.

"Fuck," you moan, "Fuck J-Joel, Daddy, fuck!"

It’s a lot to take in, Joel Miller’s head between your thighs, lapping at you like he’s starving, like he can’t imagine anything better than having you sit on his face. His strong nose keeps nudging your clit, again and again, and your movements slowly becomes more confident, though also less controlled.

Joel’s hands keep encouraging you, and you’re closer than before, right at the brink of coming all over his face, when Joel groans into your dripping cunt. The vibrations send you over the edge, and you practically sit down on his face with all your weight, but he doesn’t stop you, just lets you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm and chant a mixture of his name and daddy.

You get off of him with shaky legs, afraid you suffocated him, but he smiles up at you, looking absolutely wrecked – his hair is tousled, beard and face drenched in your juices, jaw a little slack. He reaches up to cup your face, and you go with his touch easily, laying down next to him. He rolls over until he’s half on top of you, watching your red, panting face, and slants his mouth over yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, can feel his soaked beard against you, and although it should be impossible after just having come, you throb at the feeling.

"So good for me," Joel mutters against your mouth, and trails his hand downward, over your stomach and to your overstimulated clit. You twitch under his touch, your body unsure if it wants to get closer to Joel, or get away from him, and he chuckles.

"She spent?", he asks, his tone a little amused, when you squirm under him. "That’s okay, baby, I’ll give her a break."

Instead, he slides his fingers through your folds, gathering wetness, and finally pushing into you. Your body opens up for Joel more than willingly, and although the stretch is tight, it’s not nearly as painful as you’re used to, you’re too wet and relaxed for that. 

Joel watches your face, your fluttering eyelids, as he pumps two thick fingers in and out of you in shallow thrusts. You whine – you know you’re being vocal, too loud for a hotel room, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when Joel curls his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Your hips twitch upwards, and Joel smirks.

"There we go, baby, there we go," he mumbles, moving his fingers relentlessly, and already you can feel another orgasm building. He doesn’t let up, just lets you whine under him, thrash around, because his touch is almost too much, too good, too intense, but just right. 

"Give me another one, baby, come on," he coaxes, and you think your ears start ringing when his palm starts grinding into your clit with every movement of his hand, the tips of his fingers pressing hard against your insides. "You just let Daddy make you feel real good."

It feels like bursting apart, when you come again, some tight coil snapping and Joel practically wrenching the orgasm out of you with his relentless hand and dirty words.

"Daddy," you groan, your hand coming up to your face, as you bite down on your knuckle. Joel watches you with bright eyes, lets you tremble until he can tell it’s too much, and only then does he slip his fingers out of you. 

You’re weak, exhausted from the intensity of your pleasure, and Joel chuckles when you sigh, watching your glassy eyes.

"Okay if I fuck you now?"

You think you’d let him kill you, if he really wanted to.

"Yes," you breathe, "please."

He finally – finally – takes off his shirt, arms flexing, chest sprinkled in dark hair, his belly protruding over his trunks. You wish you had a camera, or a chisel so you could scratch his glorious body into a block of stone. He’s hard in all the right places, and soft in the rest, and with a jolt you realize you’re allowed to touch now, no longer confined to watching him swim from your deckchair.

"Jesus," you breathe, sliding one hand over his biceps, as he unties the band of his swimming trunks. You know you’re hindering him, but you can’t bring yourself to stop your hand from trailing over his chest, and down to his belly.

"Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot," you mutter when he slides the trunks over his hips. Then your mind goes a little blank, because finally his bulge isn’t confined to his trunks anymore, finally he’s naked in front of you, kicking his clothes onto the floor.

He’s big, just like the rest of him. Long, and thick, and uncut, and dripping in precum, the dark hair at the base of his cock a harsh contrast to the reddish skin. Joel closes his fist around himself, pumps twice, until you tentatively put your hand over his. His cock twitches, and you feel a little overwhelmed with power. Joel let’s go and lets you do the work, your hand much smaller than his. He looks even more imposing like this, as you move your hand up and down his length.

"Wanna suck it," you say suddenly, and you’re not entirely sure where the words come from, but you know they’re true – you want to get him into your mouth, feel him use your face the way you used his. Joel groans.

"God, you’re killin’ me," he answers, eyebrows furrowed, voice wrecked. You squeeze your hand a little tighter, just to hear him make his little sounds again.

"I’ll come if you do, baby, and I’m not sure I have two rounds in me," he says, regret lacing his voice, but his words make you clench around nothing – his age turns you on more than you thought possible.

„And I need to fuck you tonight,," he adds, and wraps his big palm around your wrist, so you stop moving it over his throbbing cock.

"So fuck me," you breathe instead, eyes wide and glued to his. You watch his expression change, something primal take over, and suddenly he’s on top of you, his hips pressing into yours.

"Again," he orders, almost growling.

"Please fuck me, Daddy," you whisper, your stomach clenching and unclenching in anticipation. Joel looks like he might come from just your words, but after a moment of collecting himself, he kisses you briefly.

"Alright, pretty girl, I’ll give it to you real good," he promises, and aligns his cock with your entrance. "You’re so goddamn fuckin’ wet, I can slide right in."

And he does, pushing his hips into yours. You feel the stretch of the thick tip, the widest point almost bordering on painful, and you bite your lip. Joel slides into you slowly, breathing into your mouth and making you feel everything. Then the tip is sheathed inside of you and Joel groans quietly.

"Grippin’ me so tight," he mutters, consistently pushing on, "halfway there, babygirl."

Your pussy flutters around him, clenches and unclenches, as he keeps going, and going. You feel full, and still Joel pushes on, until his hips are fully pressed into yours, and you feel him deeper inside of you than you have felt anything before.

"Breathe, baby," he reminds you, and you let out a shaky breath you didn’t notice you were holding. "Attagirl."

When he pulls out of you again, you make a raspy whining sound, your stomach clenching at the intense drag. Joel’s hands start trailing over your body, yours are gripping his shoulders.

"Look so pretty, all stretched out on my cock," Joel praises you, and God, the mouth on this man. If you weren’t so exhausted from the first two times he made you come, you would be trembling. You groan weakly, as he pushes back in, and starts moving at a quicker pace, setting a rhythm he likes. He punches into you with precision, angling his hips just right, and then he’s nudging against that spot inside of you.

"Ah…Daddy!"

"I’ve got you, sweet girl," he groans, moving both your wrists over your head, and pinning them down with one big hand – he easily engulfs you. You tug against him, testing his grip, and your hips twitch upward when you realize you can’t get out. He’s fully in control now, his cock nudging into you insistently, and you can only take it. You’ve never felt so cared for, as now, getting fucked raw by Joel Miller.

He doesn’t kiss you, but he keeps staring into your eyes, and it feels weirdly intimate. His movements become faster, more forceful, his belly nudging your body with every thrust. You whine, your body unable to do anything except for letting another orgasm build, one you didn’t think yourself capable of. The corners of Joel’s mouth twitch, when he feels you clench, and he fucks you harder.

"Daddy," you yelp at one particularly deep thrust, but Joel doesn’t let up – you don’t want him to. "Wanna come, p-please."

"You wait for my permission," Joel answers. Your belly feels like it’s on fire, tightly coiled with the need to just let go, but Joel wants you to wait, so you will wait. Anything, you think, anything. Joel’s jaw is slack, his brows furrowed, his free hand rough on your skin, but not unkind. You clench around him, and try your best to hold off coming, your eyes falling close.

"Eyes on me, kid," Joel orders, and despite your concentration, your eyes snap open. "Fuck, that’s it, my good girl."

My girl.

Joel fucks you like it, like you’re his. It’s possessive from beginning to end – the way he looked at you when you first wore his shirt, how he wouldn’t back away from you in the elevator. He plays your body like it’s his, dragging the pleasure out of you, and it makes your head spin. You can feel his thrusts go sloppy, can feel his restraint cracking, and your eyelids flutter a little.

"You want it inside, babygirl?"

You didn’t talk about that. You know you should say no. The head of his cock nudges your insides, and Joel’s free hand presses down on your stomach, feeling himself inside of you from the outside with every thrust.

"Yes," you breathe, "yes, please, Daddy, I w-want it."

Suddenly Joel is the one who has to close his eyes, as he keeps fucking into you.

"Fuck, you come for me first, baby," he groans, sliding his hand down to rub at your overstimulated clit. It’s too much, right on the brink of painful, and you thrash under him.

"I c-c-can’t Daddy, it’s…", your voice trails off, lost in the impact of his thrusts, but Joel keeps rubbing tight circles.

"Yeah, you can, baby, you know why?"

You don’t have it in you to answer, so you just stare into Joel’s eyes. You feel something wet on your cheek, and realize you must be crying, crying from how good you feel, how full.

"Cause I said so."

Your pussy throbs, clenches, and Joel moves his finger over your clit faster.

"Come for me, baby, I’ve got you," Joel drawls, and finally you do, your vision going white, your muscles going slack as you let Joel drag his cock in and out of you, the pleasure white-hot.

"Fuck, good girl, that’s my good girl," Joel groans, thrusting into you faster, until he presses into you harder than ever before, and you feel his thick cock twitch and throb against your cervix. Something hot bursts into you, and Joel keeps fucking into you for a couple more seconds, his eyes falling closed. Then, pulls out of you, your pussy fluttering, and he falls down next to you on the bed. You feel like jelly – you couldn’t move if you tried. Joel’s cum leaks out of you slowly, an odd, but pleasant sensation, and you sort of wish he would push it back into you.

After a couple of seconds, Joel pulls you against him, your face coming to rest against his broad chest, and he presses a kiss to your hair. You inhale his scent, and your spent muscles relax further, if possible.

"You did so good," Joel mutters, "so perfect."

His hands trail up your side and arms softly, a soothing contrast to the insistent way he fucked you. Your mind is pleasantly quiet, all caught up in his voice, his scent, his touch, his spent leaking out of you.

"Thank you," you sigh, and Joel chuckles. You smile weakly.

"Wanna get cleaned up, sweet girl?"

"No," you manage, "just wanna sleep."

Joel huffs a laugh, and tucks you more tightly against him.

"I’ll wake you before dinner."

***

When he does, the sun is already sinking. He trails kisses up and down your face – the softest way you’ve ever been dragged back to reality and out of a dream, and the first time you think reality is more fantastic than anything your sleeping brain could come up with.

"Mornin’, sleepyhead," Joel mumbles, catching your mouth in a kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly. You sigh into his mouth, when he pulls away.

"We should take a shower, baby, and you need a pill."

You open your eyes, a little confused.

"A pill?"

Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, I’m not opposed to children, but I think your Dad might be," he says, and you snort weakly. Right, you think, the morning after pill.

"I’ve got an IUD, Joel, don’t worry."

He presses a kiss to your collarbone.

"Back to Joel, are we?"

You blush, and he laughs. It’s blissful, and a little unreal – Joel Miller, teasing you about the debauched, perfect sex you had not two hours ago.

"You prefer Daddy?"

"It’s…got a ring to it."

You can hear the smirk, even though your eyes are closed again, and you’re stretching your tired limbs. You yawn.

"How about room service?", you ask, Joel’s hand softly stroking the hair out of your face.

"Hmm," he mumbles, trailing one hand over your stomach, "or… we take a nice shower, you let me clean you, we have dinner with you lookin’ all fucked out, and everyone downstairs will know what we’ve been up to."

Your eyes open, and although you’re entirely, completely spent, your thighs clench together. Joel grins.

It’s quite the picture – Joel, with an arm around your shoulder ordering two cocktails, the redness on your skin from where he sucked too harshly or his beard burned you. You can see it in front of you, the same waiter as yesterday bringing your food, except this time, Joel lets you use his fork to try his meal, and instead of hurrying down to the beach afterwards, he’ll kiss you slow and long, just because he can, in front of every other guest in this hotel.

„Yeah…or that."

[the-clumsywitchtarot]

What is Your Future Husband's Love Language?

Because maybe his love language is quality time and you need to know ahead of time to work it into your schedule.

Cards

10 of Swords (Reversed)

2 of Wands (Reversed)

Wheel of Fortune

I feel like your future husband's love language is acts of service, anything that would make their life flow more easily. Before starting the reading for this pile I felt a pull to listen to a song called "A Little Bit" by Erika de Casier so they may also have quality time as a love language but I feel like they're too proud or stoic to admit it. This person could definitely be someone that avoids becoming too emotional or lovey dovey. They seem like someone that only knows how to show love from a practical side, for instance if you need your oil changed they'll have it done to keep you from having to do it. But if you are someone that likes to have deep talks or is touchy feely they may reject that. Another song that came up was "Strong as Glass" by Goapele.

Cards

6 of Wands

10 of Wands (Reversed)

The World

Apparently this is going to be a musical reading because starting your pile I felt the need to put on the song "All This Love" by Trey Songz. Your future husband's love language is words of affirmation, he is someone that is going to love hearing how well you thinks he's doing. And how much love him, when you give this man a compliment he is going to be in cloud 9. And if you send him text throughout the day just to let him know that you're thinking of him, he will love that! I can see a man getting a text, reading it, and then just beaming afterwards. He just wants to know that he is loved and appreciated. You do that and he'll be willing to give you the world (I know, an ironic choice of words considering you got the world card!) This is a side note but this pile gives me stay at home girlfriend vibes, well at least before you get married.

Cards

The Moon

4 of Swords

6 of Swords

This pile is interesting, I don't think your future husband will have any love language in particular but rather a combination of all of them. I feel like this person is just looking to quiet their minds and whichever of the love languages does that at any particular time is the one they'll want. I feel like this is a man that could've struggled opening up and expressing his needs at first. They may have been raised in a home or environment where their needs didn't matter or they were shown that they were not important in the eyes of their caregiver(s). This is a man that may have grown up in the foster care system. I feel like you will help him to realize that he is just as important and worthy of love and care as anyone else. I feel like he'll be so comfortable opening up to you that you will help him become in tune with what he needs. For any of those of you that are worried that this is someone that is an emotionally wounded boy man. Don't worry, I don't see that being the case, I think this is someone that has emotional intelligence when it comes to others but he just needs to be given permission to have it when it comes to himself. I feel like you guys will bring out the absolute best in each other effortlessly. I'm hearing the phrase "there are no perfect people but there are people perfect for each other."

Thank you for reading and please feel free to let me know which pile you chose! 🩷

- Erika, The Clumsy Witch

[elixirfromthestars]

In His Embrace

Pairing: Agent!Bucky Barnes x Journalist!Reader

Summary: As a new day begins and the snow cascades beyond your windows, you know there's no place you'd rather be than in his arms.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> it's too cold, stay in bed

a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my beloved Kat @elvenrin ♡♡♡ When reading your history major Bucky, it felt like I was getting a warm embrace from autumn, so I hope this can be a cozy winter hug for you!! ( っ˶´ ˘ `)っ This fic is written as a standalone piece, but I will link below the pairing this fic is based on, if anyone would like to read more! Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

how their love story began ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

The wind howls beyond the windows, blowing the snow across the sky in white streaks. A few flurries land upon the glass pane, perching themselves as if looking into the bedroom. Bucky cradles you against his body, your head resting on his chest with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat acting as a lullaby.

Whereas a frigid dawn inhabits the outside, inside on the plush bed, the arms of your beloved and the sheets that envelop your body keep you in a bundle of safety and warmth. Protecting you from the harsh winter and whatever else may ail you. 

What a shame it is you have to get up soon…

There is not one muscle in your body that wishes to move, but tonight is possibly one of the most important nights of your life and you would be lying if you said you weren’t stressing over how the night would go. In and out of a restless slumber as the moon departs for the day and the sun greets you once more. 

For the first time since you moved in together, you and Bucky are hosting a dinner for your friends, his family, and your family. It would be a gathering of at least ten others, not including yourselves, and neither you nor Bucky had ever taken on such a large hosting. Not only that, but you were finally meeting his parents and you wanted—no you needed—so desperately to make a good first impression. 

Everything had to be perfect—it just had to be.

Your limbs thrum with a heavy reluctance as you slowly slide your arms above his, attempting to gently pry them off from around you. However, Bucky has a strong hold on you even in his sleep, so your gentle prying does little to nothing to get him off. 

The last thing you want to do is wake him as he’s had a few hectic weeks at work. His client load went from two high-profile celebrities to seven, ever since he became one of the most successful agents at his talent agency. Thankfully, he’s taken the holidays off and getting some much-needed rest. Hence why finding a way to break free and not disturb his sleep is your main objective.

Since you couldn’t pry him off, you decide to try and slide out of his hold. Wiggling your hips ever so slightly to gradually scoot downwards on the bed. It seems to be working, but as soon as you free yourself he lets out a heavy sigh, causing you to freeze. You slowly tilt your head until you can catch a glimpse of him, relaxing when you notice he’s still fast asleep.

That is until his arms go to wrap themselves around nothing. The warmth of your body missing against his is enough to stir him awake. His eyes groggily blink open and when he sees the space next to him empty, they immediately search for you. When he spots you further down on the bed he frowns, his mind too dozy to register what you were trying to do.

“Hm? C’mere…” Bucky mumbles out, his morning voice gravelly with a gentle edge. He doesn’t let you move further away as he scoops you back into his arms, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and nuzzling his head on top of yours, before promptly going back to sleep. 

You huff out something between an annoyed groan and a soft laugh, realizing he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. As soon as you were back in his arms you found yourself snuggling into his warmth. You couldn’t help it as your body acted on instinct. Whenever he held you, you felt the utmost sense of belonging, almost like you had finally found your place in this world and it was wherever he was. It's a feeling you have lost yourself in from the moment he became yours.

“Bucky, I have to get up,” you whisper against his neck, placing a soft kiss on it. He responds by grumbling out a muffled no. You keep pressing sweet kisses into his skin with every whispered explanation and plea, hoping that would be enough to get him to listen. He doesn’t though, your plan backfiring as he basks in the kisses, even more determined now not to let you leave his side. 

“Sweetheart, I really have to go. There’s an errand I have to run,” your tone is slightly firmer when you notice the kisses are having the opposite outcome you want. At your tone, his eyes fly open, narrowing at you suspiciously, “I thought we agreed to take the holidays off.” You ignore the way his morning voice makes your heart stutter, brushing a few strands of tousled hair from his forehead while you nod, “We did. This isn’t work-related. There’s a list of things I have to go pick up from the store.”

At your explanation, his gaze softens, gently taking your hand from his forehead and placing a tender kiss into your palm, “You don’t need to worry about that. I bought everything already.” His response causes you to frown, unsure if you heard him right. 

“You what? No, I made a list and—”

“I know, darling. I saw the list and went out to get the items yesterday while you were reading in the study. You were so lost in your novel you didn’t notice I left.”

You stare at him with affectionate astonishment, a part of you still has trouble wrapping your head around not having to do everything on your own anymore. Bucky has always been attentive and supportive—even from before you moved in together—acts of service from him were a regular occurrence. Regardless, you sometimes struggle to let go of that control and mindset of doing everything on your own. Years of being independent and living alone—not only as a means of living but also as a way to prove yourself to others—had cost you the habit of relying on anyone when you needed it.

Despite that, Bucky has always been patient with you. Showing you time and time again that you can rely on him—that he is your person and the one who will always be there as a guiding light in the dark.

He smiles softly at your reaction, the ocean in his eyes hazy with exhaustion, and yet glimmering with a profound devotion. He leans forward to capture your lips in a deep kiss that eases your awe and reminds you how much he loves you.

He pulls away, his nose brushing against yours as he whispers, “You deserve rest, my love. You’re not alone anymore, you have me now. Always.” Your eyes drift away from his gaze, your apprehension returning for a brief second, “I know I have you, Bucky. I know that. It’s just…everything needs to be perfect tonight. If you bought everything already then I should get up and—” He silences you with another kiss, one that starts at your lips and then travels all across your face, showering every bit of you with a dose of love until your brain can only focus on him.

“We should get some rest, and later we’ll get up and prepare everything for tonight’s dinner,” he continues to pepper kisses across your face, trailing them down to your neck as he adds, “Everything will be fine. The dinner will be perfect because you’ll be there and I’ll be there and all those who we love and love us will be there too. That’s all we need, darling. We don’t need anything else.” He assures you kindly, his actions and words an effective remedy to your anxiety.

“And here I thought I was the one who had a way with words…” you laugh softly, giving in to his persuasion. A dreamy smile dances on your lips as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and snuggle closer to his body. He lets out a soft chuckle, pulling you in impossibly closer, “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.” You can hear the grin in his voice, your eyelids growing heavier as the lullaby of his heartbeat returns.

“Sleep, my darling. We’ll figure everything out later. Together,” Bucky presses a tender kiss to your forehead before closing his eyes. You whisper out the quietest echo of the word together, before drifting off to sleep. Your heart is at ease, wrapped in the kind of peace only his embrace can offer—the feeling of home.

[subeddieweek]

Welcome to Sub Eddie Week 2025!

You will find all event information under the "read more" cut.

There are no official sign-ups for this event. Our interest form can be found here, but it is not required. This event is open for everyone who would like to participate and there's no deadline for deciding to join.

Prompts:

You'll notice that we only have one list of prompts this year instead of two! This is because there is so much overlap and some can be used in both sexual and non-sexual context.

We got a few questions last year asking if prompts on one side can be used for the other, and we decided that one list with many options will help ease any confusion.

Another note about prompts: some are vague for a reason! This is so you can make them work for anything you can think of. For example 'wet' can be used for watersports, cum play, spit, sweat, or anything else you can come up with that involves wetness. Another example would be 'heat' which can mean anything from omegaverse to just being too hot on a summer day.

We want everyone to use their imagination and not feel limited by any of these prompts.

Rules:

The first two rules are in place to keep this event safe. Mods do not feel comfortable moderating an event with sexual underage content, and we do not feel comfortable exposing anyone to untagged works. Please be mindful of your friends in this fandom and tag accordingly.

Posting guidelines:

Post using #SubEddieWeek, #Sub Eddie Week, or @SubEddieWeek on Twitter or Tumblr, and post AO3 fics to the SubEddieWeek Collection.

If you are posting on AO3, please include the “Sub Eddie Munson” tag so the tag can grow.

No minimum word count.

Late submissions allowed.

This is not a secret event, so feel free to post about your wips for this event and tag us so we can rt!

Also feel free to use this event to finish any wips you’ve already started, so we can cheer you on! Continuations and sequels are also allowed!

More information can be found in our FAQ. If you have any questions, please check here to see if we have already answered it. If we haven't, or if you're unsure about something, please ask! You can DM us or send an ask.

FAQ

AO3 Collection

Disclaimer: We will keep this event as open as possible and we would like to include everyone who participates. However, mods will have final say in all retweets, reblogs, and the AO3 collection for the event. Please try to follow our guidelines, and you will be included if you do. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask on tumblr or DM on twitter.

Lastly, huge thank you to everyone who has expressed interest this year, and everyone who participated in last year’s event. You all make this possible! Without the writers and artists, this would not be happening, so we hope everyone who wants to participate gets to.

Please tag us in all your WIPs for this event so we can cheer everyone on.

Happy 2025, let’s have some fun this year.

[imujings]

[j.ww] say my name

synopsis | a snowstorm has hit your city, the surprising cold front making it hard for anyone to go anywhere. good thing you and wonwoo are already busy with… other things.

♯ pairing(s) | jeon wonwoo x gn!reader ♯ genre(s), wc | suggestive (MDNI) & fluff, 1.1k ♯ warnings | making out, cursing, wonu calls gn!reader pretty, handsy!wonu, lil bit of sub!reader, lil hair pulling, some grinding, lip biting, pet names (baby)

jay's musings | m.. making out w wonu during a snowstorm mfqwkdjfjf,,, ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) … (ty @wheeboo for beta reading <3)

Outside is the picture perfect shot of a winter wonderland. Snow blankets the streets of the city, your high-rise apartment giving a breath-taking view of the twinkling lights as people begin to wind down from the day’s escapades.

A snowstorm had taken your area hostage in the middle of the day, and shivering figures could be seen frigidly walking along the sidewalks in a hurry to get home, clearly eager to get out of the cold and uninviting environment.

Inside your cozy space, however, is an entirely different atmosphere.

The only light on is the Himalayan salt lamp sitting on a shelf some ways away, its warm orange lighting draping the room in a rich honey glow. Music drifts in from your bluetooth speaker atop the kitchen island; a NIKI song, no doubt queued by Wonwoo from your shared playlist. There’s a buzz in the air, thick and heavy, like a weighted blanket.

It started out innocent enough, cuddling on the couch and absentmindedly watching the snow outside fall. In moments like these, there was no need for words between you and Wonwoo; you both were simply content with the comfortable silence, finding the presence of the other enough of a joy in life. Sometimes, though, the two of you would mumble quiet reassurances to each other, words of affection passed between the two of you like cherished high school notes, your lips idly finding their way to the other’s.

As the flurries turned into a curtain of white flakes, you and Wonwoo were in the middle of a particularly… heated kiss, with you breaking it to breathlessly (and teasingly) ask if he’d like some tea. His eyes, half-lidded and dark behind his fogged-up glasses, followed you out of the living room area. Your taunting gaze didn’t miss the tent in his grey sweatpants.

When you came back from turning on the stovetop, a shit-eating grin on your face, you were greeted with silence. Biting your lip to hide your smile at his obvious irritation, you open your mouth—only for Wonwoo to drag you into his lap, taking his glasses off and fumbling to place them on the side table, before kissing you fiercely.

That was all some time ago. You aren’t too sure how long it's been since then, but a part of you doesn’t really care anymore, too preoccupied with other matters. Such as the man whose lap you’re sitting in.

Your thighs straddle Wonwoo’s, him having gone back to kissing you lazily, as if he had all the time in the world. You suppose he did, given that his early morning schedule tomorrow was cancelled. Your thoughts drifted to profusely thanking the inclement weather for this pop-up opportunity to get lost in him, lips slowing against his. He seems to notice your attention leaving him, the grip of his fingers on your chin tightening, and any coherent thoughts immediately leave your mind as he softly bites your bottom lip.

You whine, cheeks flaming at his touch. “Wonu…”

“Hm?” is his only reply, hands sliding down to rest underneath your hoodie, teasing the waistband of your sweatpants.

A soft, hushed moan falls off of your lips. Your eyes flutter close and you hide your face in his neck, the rumbling of his laugh only making the fire in your lower stomach burn hotter. Wonwoo’s hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek and brings your mouth back to his.

Kissing Jeon Wonwoo was as easy as breathing. If you could have this as a full-time job, you would take it, no hesitation, and become the richest person in the world. His lips are soft and plump against yours, tasting sweetly of the peach-flavored lip balm you keep in your nightstand. Every time one of you pulled back in the slightest, the other’s lips chased after, shiny and bitten and longing for more.

His other hand is still running along the waistline of your pants, sometimes dipping underneath to snap the hem of your underwear against your skin. You yelp, but he only smiles against your lips, squeezing the fat of your hip gently.

“Relax, baby,” Wonwoo murmurs. “Let me take care of you.”

And you let him, your fingers desperately scrambling to find purchase in the hairs at the base of his neck as he gains control. His hand on your cheek disappears again, grabbing onto your hips as he helps you grind into him. The man’s head tilts back a bit, a groan spilling from his lips from the friction, and you trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pulling you closer until you’re somehow flushed even more against him.

Even through the layers of clothing, you feel the warmth of his skin, your fingers further tangling themselves in strands of his hair. His breath is hot against your skin, pressing a sweet kiss to the apple of your cheek. You melt into him with a sigh leaving you. He knows exactly what buttons of yours to push. You adore him for it. Mind quickly turning into mush, he plants another kiss to your other cheek, a saccharine promise, before tugging your bottom lip between his teeth yet again and biting. Hard.

“Wonwoo!” your voice, high and needy, seems to invigorate him; he moans, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. “Wonu, please…”

“Sounds so pretty, saying my name,” he sighs, tone low and gravelly. “Keep going, baby. Feels so good.”

He’s everywhere. All at once. His hands are traveling up and down your sides, fingers making your skin tingle and burn with the brightest fires. Your brain is foggy, unable to think of anything other than the feel of his tongue swiping against yours and his hips bucking up right where you need him, hard and heavy in just the right way. Something in your stomach starts to burn, coiling with a pressure you know all too well, your telling whimpers being muffled again and again by his lips. One particular and delicious drag of his hips against yours awards him with a beautifully choked sob. If he keeps going, just like that—

The wail of the kettle startles away the fog in your brain.

You pull away, panting, lips swollen and hair disheveled. The blue throw that’s been teetering on the edge of the couch finally falls to the floor in a heap from the sudden movement. Your eyes are wide with alarm, but Jeon Wonwoo just stares at you as if you’ve gone and hung up every star in the damn sky.

“Wonwoo! The tea!”

[hxhbigbang25]

HxHBB is turning 10... Let's get into what a Big Bang is!

A Big Bang is a collaborative event between writers and artists where lots of new content for a particular series, theme, or ship is dropped all at once. BANG!!

Writers complete a longer story and artists will create at least one full work of art based on the fic they choose/are assigned. The goal is to upload new, complete works that will inspire and add to the fandom!

Our HxHBB will result in an influx of new works for the fandom to enjoy and be inspired by and hopefully will inspire continued collaboration between writers and artists as well as participation in other, smaller fandom events (such as the Yorknew Auction and Greed Island Server events!)

How do signups work?

Signups will open Friday, January 10, at 12 AM EST! All roles will be on the same form, so Writers, Artists, and Betas will all be able to begin signing up on the same day.

There is no skill requirement and you will not be asked to submit a portfolio, we welcome anyone to participate in this event!

How do I get into the server?

Once we have received your application, you will be sent an invitation to join our Discord server via DMs. All main communications will be conducted through Discord, so please have or be willing to create a Discord account for the duration of this event! Additionally, please ensure your Discord DMs are open, otherwise Shal won't be able to send you the invite!

As in previous years, the only pause between applying and joining the server would be in the event that we have a wildly uneven writer:artist ratio. If that's the case, writers will be placed on a waitlist and invited to the server as more artists join the event.

The server is a great place to meet like-minded creatives and share in the fun of HxHBB, even if you choose not to be super active in it. However it will be the only place we share important links and information, so be sure to pop in every now and again so you don't miss anything.

Roles

Writer

Writers are tasked with coming up with a new, unpublished story idea that will be between 5-50k words. While there is no theme or prompt to limit you, please be aware that NSFW or explicit content is not allowed! Once writers have their idea, they'll submit a summary with title, ratings, and tags included to inform artists for their selections. This is a completely blind event, so make it good!

Artist

Artists are tasked with creating at least one piece of art based on a scene or theme from their selected story. Once they have picked their blind match, they will receive the completed story from which they will choose to draw whatever they like. We are looking for at least one fully lined and colored illustration, but comics, physical crafts, or other media created for their assigned story are welcome!

Beta

Betas are tasked with reading over the first chapter or 5,000 words (whichever comes first) of their assigned story and providing feedback on spelling, grammar, and pacing. Stories that are in need of a beta will be up for grabs in the server. You can absolutely read more than the requirement if you choose, but we are only asking for the first 5,000 words.

Pinch Hitter

Pinch Hitters are the most valuable role we have in this event, they are in charge of swooping in to save the day in the event of an artist drop! They will be given extra time to complete their pieces as a thank you for stepping up to the plate.

Reveal Days

As in the past, our reveal days will be July 1 and July 8. The first reveal date will be for folks who do not need extensions, the second will be for folks who do and pinch hitters.

Please share your works to whatever social media or hosting site you prefer—AO3, ff.net, Twitter, etc.—and share a link here on Tumblr. This is the only account for HxHBB so be sure to tag it and use #hxhbb25 so we can reblog it!

Important Links

We realize this is a lot of information! All of this and more is included in our Guidebook, which is the most comprehensive compilation of all that is HxHBB information.

For quick reference, sweet countdowns, and other helpful links, check out our Carrd too!

As always, you can also send us an ask to this account or, once the server is up, we will have a dedicated ask-a-mod channel.

We can't wait to see where this year takes us! See you soon and Happy Hunting.

[lovemybluebully]

Was That A Snort?

Written specially for @whiskeyandcigarsmoke Thank you for supporting my writing! 😭 I always feel slightly awkward when anyone who is not in the t-community reads my stuff because most probably think I'm a fucking weirdo for centering all my fics around tickling, but I appreciate your open-mindedness and ability to see the cute aspect of it all. 🥰

Some snorty, ticklish Logan for your viewing pleasure!

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

Word Count: 6,504 (Sorry it came out kinda long. 😬)

Wade yawned as he wandered into the kitchen one morning in his bathrobe to put on a pot of coffee, cursing as he remembered on his way in that they had run out the day before. Much to his surprise the smell of fresh coffee hit his nostrils as he found that there was a pot already freshly brewed on the countertop.

An explanation of how that came to be was revealed when a rustle of paper to the side drew his attention as he turned to find Logan sitting at the small kitchen table and quietly reading the newspaper. He was already fully dressed and looked like he had been up for a while.

"Well someone's an early riser today. Thanks for handling the coffee situation," Wade toasted him with a mug he had grabbed from the shelf in one of the cupboards before filling it from the bubbling hot pot.

"Couldn't find any here this morning so I went to the store and picked some up. Grabbed some donuts while I was out too. Help yourself," Logan nodded to the pink carboard box on the table without even looking up from his paper.

"Yess! Did you happen to get any of the cream-filled ones?" Wade asked hopefully, sitting at the table next to him as Logan reached over and flipped the box open for him.

"Yeah, there should be a couple in there somewhere. Also got some of those ones with the kiddie cereal on top that I know ya like."

Wade squealed in excitement as he plucked a donut covered in Lucky Charms from the box, moaning over-excessively as he took a large bite.

"Mmmm! Oh God, mmm MM! That's a literal flavor-filled orgasm in my mouth. You're an absolute angel," Wade carried on as Logan huffed through his nose with a small smile.

"I don't appreciate the slander, Wilson. And I was kinda enjoying the peace and quiet so would ya mind keepin' it down a little?"

Wade nodded and replied between chews.

"Yup. I can do that. Mmm hmm. Not a peep from me. Won't even know I'm here," he then began loudly sucking the melted icing off of his fingers before looking up to find Logan giving him a hard stare, "I'm sorry, would you like some?"

Wade offered him his hand as Logan grimaced in disgust and leaned away from him, trying to get back to reading.

"All yours, bub. Couldn't pay me to suck on those fingers."

"Are you implying that I could pay you to suck on something else? Because if that's true then have I got the proposition for you," Wade suggestively spoke in a lower tone, pleased to see he'd managed to get under Logan's skin as he promptly threw down his newspaper with a groan

"Can't you ever just be fucking normal for one day?"

"Let me see.....uhhh nope. I'm afraid there's no changing me. And you, my friend, are lucky to have a front row seat to the amazing world of Wade," he placed a hand on Logan's knee and teasingly danced his fingers up his inner thigh before being slapped away.

"My eternal punishment you mean. If God himself were to take pity on me and strike me down today it still wouldn't have been soon enough," Logan shook his head as he folded up the newspaper to put aside while Wade narrowed his eyes in response to his last comment.

"Say sike right now," he pointed a demanding finger at the other man who only tilted his head in slight confusion.

"What's that mean?"

"It means take it back, you insolent pig!"

"What? Did I actually hit a nerve?" Logan smirked, taking a bite of the old-fashioned donut he'd just selected from the box.

"I'm gonna have to plead the fifth. That's gross by the way," Wade cringed a little at how Logan dunked his donut into his coffee before biting into it, "But in theory if I were to say that you did, would you apologize?"

"Not even on my theoretical death bed, dipshit," Logan flipped Wade his middle finger as he ate the last bite of his donut.

Wade knew he was just playing his game with him, but that didn't mean he couldn't consider options for reprisal.

"Always such a charmer. Well in that case how about if I make you take it back, stud?"

Logan scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Pffft, good one. How the fuck do ya think you're gonna do that?"

"I have my ways. I'm a highly trained mercenary you know and believe it or not I have a plethora of all kinds of torture methods stored inside my pea-sized brain," Wade smiled innocently as Logan just nodded, never one to take anything the man said completely serious.

"Sure, bub. I'm warning ya though, you give me another wet willy and I'm throwing your ass out that window over there," he gestured over his shoulder to the window on the far wall where a three-story drop would await the prankster.

"Dually noted. Do not worry your Canadian cojones about it though, I have no doubt the inspiration will come to me," Wade tapped the side of his head.

"Well don't exhaust your last brain cell tryin' to figure it out," Logan slapped him on the back as he got up from his chair and walked to the counter to refill his coffee, "I've got over 200 years of experience under my belt, and I've been conditioned to resist any kinda torture you can possibly think of."

"Anything, huh?" Wade pondered aloud, observing the man who had his back to him as he filled up his mug and fiddled with the sugar packets at the counter.

He knew Logan spoke with truth as the X-man became a storyteller when drunk and described many instances where he'd been made to suffer by enemies. Everything from as minor as being burnt with lit cigarettes all the way up to more grotesque things like being vivisected while fully conscious. Not to mention the excruciating adamantium process that he had barely survived.

Like Wade, Logan's pain threshold was off the charts and the man really could take a lot of physical abuse. Of course, Wade wasn't compelled to hurt him that badly, or even at all. He really only wanted to get a good response from him that would serve as lighthearted payback.

He just had the urge to put hands on him, though Logan had already warned him against the wet willies, and messing with his hair was also a call for trouble. He'd risk his prestigious reputation for being eccentric if he didn't think of something quick.

"Awful quiet back there, Wade. Shit, must be too late. Not one intelligible thought left in that head of yours, huh? Halle-fuckin'-lujah, I thought this day would never come."

He could practically hear the arrogant smirk on Logan's face and before Wade knew it, he was instinctively out of his seat and silently approaching behind Logan who was preoccupied with trying to clean up the sugar he'd spilled onto the counter space.

"Such a damn shame. Guess we won't be calling you 'The Merc With the Mouth' anymore. You can be the 'The Merc Who Finally Shut His Annoying Fucking-'.....!!!" His words were cut off by a gasp when he felt fingers digging into his ribcage from behind as his legs nearly buckled from the sensations. 

His arms snapped down against his sides while he writhed for a few seconds against the counter before an unfortunate laugh made it out from his lips. He immediately bit it back as he finally managed to turn around and shove the attacking merc several feet away.

Logan's brows drew together as he just gaped incredulously at his daring roommate.

"The fuck are you doing?!" 

Wade was grinning like a predator that had just cornered its prey; his mind racing in overdrive at having detected an actual weakness of the gruff Wolverine, who now had complete alarm plastered all over his face.

"Hmm, looks like I'm the one now who has struck a nerve. A ticklish nerve by the looks of it," Wade rubbed his hands together menacingly, growing more excited by the moment as Logan's eyes widened in unmitigated panic.

"What?! Tickling?! That's ridiculous! You just....surprised me is all!" He stammered out very unconvincingly while Wade delighted in watching him figuratively squirm.

"Funny, I've never seen literally anyone have that reaction to being surprised. But okay, let me try what I just did one more time except now you won't be surprised by it, right? Coming in hot...," Wade had his hands raised into clawed form with fingers wiggling as he started to lunge for the other man, but Logan instantly put his own hands up in defense to halt him.

"Alright Wade, alright. Fuck. You win. I'm a little ticklish. But Wade c'mon, this is asinine. I'm a grown man. You can't just fucking tickle me," Logan tried to reason with him even though he knew it was all for nothing, receiving that confirmation by the way that Wade laughed at him.

"Oh yes I fucking can. There's no age limit for tickling, even for a geezer like you. Besides if there was then people would grow out of it and stop being ticklish, but guess what? Most don't. Which means anyone who hasn't is still fair game, and that includes you, sugar tits. I'll leave it up to you though. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," Wade began cracking his knuckles for effect as Logan desperately tried to figure a way out of this.

"I swear if you even lay a finger on me.....," Logan cautioned with a deep growl as he swelled up his oversized muscles, this attempt at intimidation normally succeeding in making any sane man back down. But unfortunately for him, Wade wasn't a sane man, along with the fact that Logan hadn't released his claws which Wade had learned to perceive as a full-on green light.

"Is that your way of saying you're picking the hard way? Because you know I'm quite partial to things being hard myse-AAaggh! You dirty skank!!" Wade yelped as Logan had thrown the hot coffee he'd been holding into the merc's face and roughly shoved past him.

Naturally Wade recovered quickly as he tore after his roommate, even more amped than before to make him pay.

"Awww come back Wolviiiiie! I just want to talk!"

"Just fuck off! If you even try, I'll cut your damn head off" Logan shouted in trepidation, picking up a crudely put together Ikea end table and launching it at Wade with the merc easily dodging it as it smashed against the wall.

"It will be all worth it, babygirl. I couldn't think of a more desirable death if I tried," Wade grinned and in his pursuit his robe had come undone, revealing that he was wearing nothing but his My Little Pony boxers underneath as Logan grimaced once he noticed.

"Are you kidding me?! Gross! Do not fuckin' come near me dressed like that! You hear me?!" Logan warned him, jumping over the couch to escape with Wade hot on his tail.

"What in the shit is going on out here?!" Althea yelled as she opened the bedroom door to walk out into the living room where the chaos was ongoing, "Stupid sons of bitches can't even let an old woman sleep-in just one motherfucking day?" 

As they ran past her, Wade tripped and fell to the floor before scrambling back to his feet to continue the chase.

"Sorry Al! But I've got me a Wolverine to tickle the crap out of!"

"I should've never given you caffeine and sugar this early in the morning!" Logan cursed as he circled back around, looking for cover and running to stand behind the smaller, elderly woman.

"Althea! Call him off!" He pleaded while he used her temporarily as a shield between him and Wade for a few short-lived moments before he had to abandon her and make another break for it.

"Wade Wilson you stop picking on that poor boy!" She yelled after them as Wade only scoffed in amusement.

"Ha! Boy?! He's more ancient than your old ass!"

Althea just sighed loudly with a shake of her head as she turned to start shuffling back into her room.

"Well....time to turn down the old hearing aids," she muttered as she fiddled with the devices in her ears, "You two assholes break anything else in this apartment and you're going to have to deal with me!"

Logan paused as he saw she was abandoning him to his fate with the ADHD-riddled man and called after her.

"AL WAIT!! Let me come with you!" But the door slammed shut behind her without another word.

Unfortunately, his lack of attention to his would-be assailant proved costly as Wade was now able to make his move and easily tackled Logan to the floor. He quickly mounted him to sit on his legs in order to keep them out of the way.

"For the record, you can cum with me anytime you want. But let's save the fantasies for later, you naughty boy. Now time to get to the point of why these readers are all here," Wade teased as Logan fought and pushed against him, trying to hold him back.

"Wade get the fuck off me! You're practically naked for fucks sake!" He grimaced when he felt something hard press against his leg, "GOD that had better be a gun in your underwear!"

Wade glanced down at his lack of attire, reaching casually inside his boxer shorts and pulling out one of his golden Desert Eagles.

"Of course it is, silly! Always gotta be prepared for anything, you know. Not particularly needed in this situation though," he tossed it over his shoulder as he continued to struggle with his friend, who grabbed a hold of his arms to keep him at bay.

"Dammit, Wade! This is-Grrrrr! Get your hands offa me!"

"But I haven't touched you yet. You're the one putting your hands on me. So if you insist on being accurate...," Wade slipped an arm free as his hand dove straight for Logan's side to begin viciously squeezing his lower ribs, making the man jerk under him as he ground his teeth together.

"Don't! Rrrrrrgh-Stop!"

"Don't stop, you say? I hadn't planned too, but glad we're on the same page here!"

Logan's grip started to weaken its hold on Wade's other arm with him now being able to easily pull free as his fingers buried themselves into the opposite side. Logan grunted and attempted to hold in all the sounds threatening to come out as he writhed and tried to push Wade off of him.

"I didn't mean thahat! Ahaha! Waitwait! D-Don't do this to mehehehee!"

He was quickly starting to lose the battle as the giggles began to overwhelm him and a wide smile stretched itself across his face. Wade could smell the blood in the water at this point and wasn't letting up for nothing, dying to see exactly how far he'd be able to run with this.

"How come? I'm gonna need a pretty good fucking reason. Is it because you're actually a lot more ticklish than you claimed? And if that's true then that means...," Wade gasped dramatically, "....you LIED to me?!" 

He roughly massaged his thumbs on the sensitive sides of his waist as Logan broke into convulsions and finally bellowed out in thunderous laughter.

"Hahahaha! No!! No no stahahahahaap! Thahahaat tickles!" His head thrashed around as he laughed and bucked in response to the merciless tickles vibrating into his sides. He futilely tried to curl up with his arms, but with Wade sitting on his legs it still left him plenty exposed.

"Duh! It's supposed to, genius! Besides you asked for this Mr. 'I-can-resist-any-torture-you-can-think-of'. Not so confident about that now, are you?" Wade grinned big time as his fingers worked their way back up his victim's ribs, making Logan's arms clamp down uselessly while his body jerked from side to side.

"It's cheheeheeheeatin'! Hehehehehaahaa! T-Ticklin' ain't fahahahaair, you ahahahasshole!"

He was slowly coming around since moving into the apartment, so it was still pretty rare to see Logan laugh this much, but Wade absolutely loved when he did. His whole reserved appearance, including his posture, completely transformed, and it was his entire face that lit up and displayed his smile.

Wade wasn't too keen to let that slip through his fingers any time soon.

"Meh, fair is subjective. Besides I was only like 33.726894% sure that this would even work on you. I've never been a gambling man, but I'm sure glad I took a chance on this because good Lord, you literally have the cutest laugh! Now perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me, where's your most ticklish spot?!"

Logan had not been tickled in a very, very long time and had completely forgotten what it had felt like. Actually, he had forgotten what a lot of non-violent physical contact felt like until he had met Wade Wilson, who was way more affectionate towards him than what he'd been used to over the past several years.

That uncertainty about what it felt like to be tickled initially had him concerned about Wade's prospective threat to do so, but at the present time he now realized that it wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be.

The heightened senses derived from his mutation had resulted in him being incredibly ticklish, and while he had thought it to be a nuisance in his earlier days, he was able to see the benefit of it helping to bond with those he had found himself close to. The other X-men in particular were big time offenders once they found out.

He was never one to laugh freely or even smile all that much, so his teammates were happy to find such a simple way to get that all out of him. And it always felt nice for the laughter to release some of the tension he carried around with him no matter how much he might resist it at first.

It had mainly been his sardonic attitude or defiance that would land him in trouble with the other X-men, and he remembered how he used to egg on and taunt whoever on his team got up the nerve to really tickle him like this.

Only after they were gone had he finally accepted the fact that the X-men were his family and the feelings from those happier times all started to come back to him now. Along with the guilt of having taken all of that for granted.

With Wade currently tickling him he found it was actually a comforting feeling to relive those fleeting moments that he'd had with his old team. And even though it was such a torturous assault on his hyper nerves it didn't really bother him as much as he might have tried to make it seem.

And he wasn't going to let Wade totally dominate the situation as he didn't hesitate to play the tenacious victim.

"Fuhuhuhuck yoooou! Gaahahahahaa! I-heeheehee-wohohon't talk!" Logan spewed out between cackles as a particularly sensitive spot was being probed on his upper ribs just below his armpits.

Wade reeled back a little, feeling more than surprised by his response. He'd thought by this point that Logan would be saying anything to get himself out of this, but it filled him with unrivaled glee to see that he was going to make this a lot more fun than he had originally thought.

"Woah, what the shit is this?! So the Wolverine isn't just going to roll over and take it? Whoooeee! I love it! So not gonna talk, are you? You know I was considering mercy a moment ago, but I don't think you really deserve it. Not to mention you said mean things to me and burnt my beautiful face with that coffee! My modeling career is over before it even started!"

"And-Ahahahand I'd doohooo it agahahahain, fuhuhucker!"

"Holy shit, you cocky little bitch. I guess you really don't want me to stop, huh?"

"I-I do! Hahaahaahaahah! Juhuhust fuhuhuhuck you is ahahahahall! Now gehehet offa meheheheeh!" He kicked his legs about restlessly underneath Wade as he tried to wriggle free.

"Hold your perfect titties there, mister. I still want to know where you're the most ticklish, for future reference. So where is it? Is it....HERE?" Wade stuffed his hands up into Logan's armpits where his fingers spidered around like crazy, making Logan throw his head back and let out a high-pitched squeal of a laugh.

"Aaaheeheeheehee! Th-thaahaat ain't ihihihit! Ohohohahahahahahaa! Buhuhut still...," he paused to wheeze for air, laughing in silence for a few moments while knocking his head back against the floor, "Geh-Gehehet the fuhuhuck outta thehehehere!"

Logan thrashed like a beached fish, trying to squeeze the tormenting fingers out from under his arms but Wade only burrowed in deeper to guarantee the torture would not relent.

"No can do, compadre! I'm gonna find your worst spot if I have to tickle you all day! Don't think that I won't!"

Knowing that really Wade could locate the hot spot at any given moment with how accessible it was Logan decided to swallow his pride and tried to bargain with him.

"If I t-tehehell you-aahahhaha wihihill ya stohahahahop?!"

He was optimistic, but Wade shut that shit down immediately.

"Um NO! Actually, FUCK NO! Once you tell me I'm going to tickle the absolute shit out of you there! So I'm letting you know right now that once I figure it out then you are in big trouble!" He emphasized his last word with a firm jab to Logan's stomach, eliciting a startled squeal from the man beneath him.

Wade instantly stopped tickling him as they locked in eye contact, watching as Logan's pupils quickly began to dilate in panic within his hazel eyes.

"You've got to be shitting me.....Is it really that obvious? You're telling me that this exquisite cobblestone pathway carved into your body is not only the sexiest, but it's also the most sensitive of all?" He smiled unnervingly as he very gently trailed his fingers down Logan's belly, making him twitch violently under him from that action alone.

"Eeheehee-Easy Wade.....Lets b-be reasonable here..."

Logan knew he had to act fast to get out of this. He could hold up against being tickled anywhere else, but an attack on his stomach pretty much guaranteed his downfall.

While Wade was momentarily distracted by the marvel of his discovery Logan took the opportunity to buck his hips as hard as he could to throw the mercenary off of him.

"HEY!" Wade hit the floor before immediately looking up to see Logan attempting to make his escape, "Oh no you don't, you sneaky bastard! I'm not through with you yet!"

Logan tried to scramble away on all fours to get some distance between him and Wade, but the other man was quick to grab his ankle as he dragged him back over with Logan shaking his head and pleading for lenience.

"No no no! For fucks sake! Wade please! Dohohon't you dare!" He was giggling already in anticipation as Wade pulled him close and then crawled on top to pin him again, grinning at the subdued state he was in.

Wade thought back to all the times he had fawned over his often-shirtless friend and made countless attempts to feel up his very pronounced abdominal muscles only to receive a harsh punch along with a threat to keep his hands to himself. But he now realized it wasn't because Logan was being stingy and not wanting to be touched in general, it was because he was trying to hide the fact that his stomach was so unbearably ticklish.

"I've never seen you so giggly like this Logan. It's positively adorable. But tell you what, I'll give you a chance to save yourself if you apologize for being such an ass to me this morning. And I want to hear some sincerity in there or else your tummy is going to get it," Wade waved his fingers in Logan's face as the feral nodded without hesitation.

"Okay okay fine, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I referred to you as an eternal punishment. And that I implied you had no rational thought whatsoever in your head."

"And.....?" Wade lightly rested his fingers onto Logan's stomach as a threat, pleased to see how it made him dissolve into giggles again.

"Aahaahaand I'm s-sorry I buhuhurned your face-Aaahee!" he yelped as the fingers dug in ever so slightly.

"My beautiful face!" Wade corrected with a smirk of victory.

"Okaahaay! Your beautiful faahaace with the coffeeheeheehee," Logan sputtered out the best that he could, grateful when Wade lifted his hand away from the hyper ticklish zone.

"Well thanks for that, pal. See? That wasn't so difficult, was it? I knew deep down you had a little humility in there," Wade tweaked his sideburn and tickled down his neck as Logan wiggled his head away from the touch before meeting his gaze with a defiant twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh yeah, one more thing I oughta mention. I'm also sorry that you are without a doubt, one hundred percent the most annoying, blabbering, dimwitted, lousy excuse for a comedian to ever exist. And I'm sorry I lied about being sorry for everything because the truth is I will never, ever be truly sorRYEEHeeHEeehEEhEE!!"

Logan had tried to prep himself but still couldn't stop from breaking into wild, squealing laughter once Wade's hands descended upon his stomach with lightning speed; his fingers scribbling like crazy all over the hidden muscles beneath his thin t-shirt. Wade just beamed down at him, not taking anything that was said to heart and so glad that Logan had given him the excuse to carry on.

"Whelp. I guess this is how it all ends for you. Tickled to death isn't exactly how most people would have expected the legendary Wolverine to go, but I'll make sure to sing the story of your menial demise," he wasn't holding back since Logan had practically asked for this as he mercilessly tickled the helplessly squirming man beneath him.

"Ihihihihit wahahas wo-wohohohorth ihihihit! Aaahahahafuhuhuhuhuck! Nohohot thehehere! Stahahahahahap-Snnnrk!" Logan's face was already bright red from his ears down to his neck as he laughed uncontrollably with that last sound that came out of him immediately catching Wade's attention.

"What in the-? What the fuck was that?" A quirky smile began to spread over Wade's face as he haphazardly dug his fingers into Logan's abs, eager to duplicate what had just occurred., "Was that a snort?"

Wade already had him in tears as Logan adamantly shook his head, instantly being disproven as another snort rang out of his scrunched-up nose.

"Snnrk! N-No! Yohohohou're hehehehehearin' thihihihings!"

Wade had heard Logan snort before. Many times, as a matter of fact, but he always thought it was something that Logan forced to emphasize his aversion to whatever Wade was currently talking about. Wade was positively enamored to know now that it was all just part of his genuine laugh.

"Are you sure about that? Are you sure you're not just a cute little giggly, snorty Wolverine? Because I think that's exactly what you are."

"Shuhuhut uhuhuhup! Ya-Snnnrk-dihihihick!" Logan felt his face flush even more with Wade teasing him in such a childish manner, too weakened by his laughter to be able to push the hyper man's hands away from his body.

As his fingers rippled into the solid tummy Wade grew more and more amused by this whole situation. He would have never been able to picture Logan in this helpless of a state if he hadn't seen it for himself and when you added in his constant snorting between his laughs it just pushed everything straight into a fantasy realm.

But it was all happening for real. And the more Logan snorted, the more Wade himself began to laugh.

"Wh-Whahat's the matter? Hehehe, the all-mighty anchor-being can be destrohohoyed by mere tickles? Oh, this universe is f-fuhuucked now," Wade giggled, trying to keep his focus and observing how Logan's t-shirt had slid up his stomach a bit. He pushed it up even further so now his hands were scratching at hairy, bare skin as Logan screamed and thrashed helplessly underneath him.

"Naaahahahahahaha! I-I nehehehever-Snnnrk-ahahahasked for-Snnrk-the johohohob! Snnnnrk!" Logan was losing control and unable to stop the snorting now as he would desperately try to get a breath in through his chaotic laughter.

"Are-Are yoohoou just gohohoing to keep doing thahaat?! Snorting lihihike a little pihihiggy?!" Wade was starting to lose it himself.

"Snnnrk! Kihihiss my ahaahaahaass-Snnnnrk!!"

"I'd love too-heeheeheh! Ohohor I could dohoo THIS!" Wade's hands slid down as he targeted the ever so tempting V-line muscles on the Wolverine's lower belly and once he dug into the highly ticklish flesh Logan just about lost his mind in hysterics.

"BAAHAHAHAHAHAHANOOONO! SNNNRK! OKAAHAAHAAY! YA WIHIHIHIN! AAAHAHAHAAH-SNNNNRK! MEHEHEHRCY! I'M-SNNRK-I'M SOHOHOHORRY!" Logan squealed and snorted as he regained a burst of energy and jolted around violently like he was being shocked with a cattle prod.

It had proven all too much for Wade to stay composed as he broke into uncontrollable laughter, unable to keep tickling Logan any longer as he sat back and just got lost in his own laughing fit.

Logan lay under him, now motionless and wheezing as he gasped to take in some big breaths to refill his depleted lungs. When he finally came to his senses, he found Wade was still laughing hysterically, prompting Logan to roll his eyes and shove the merc off of him so he could sit up.

Wade hardly seemed to notice as he fell to the floor, holding his sides while tears ran down his cheeks.

"What?" Logan stared over at him with a brow raised in confused annoyance.

"Th-The snohohohorts! Haahahahahah! Oh fuhuhuhuck, the snohohohohohorts!" Wade struggled to spit out as Logan now began to frown once he realized that Wade was laughing at him.

"It's not that funny, asshole," he growled, starting to feel insecure and regretting that he'd let his guard down so much. With no end to Wade's laughter in sight Logan went to stand up but was stopped as Wade leapt forward to grab onto him as he finally got under control to speak again.

"I'm-I'm sorry I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you embarrassed! Sometimes my brain just processes my emotions in ways I can't control so please don't take it the wrong way. I just got so happy and excited when I saw that snorting is part of your natural laugh. I LOVE it!"

"You're not just saying that shit?" Logan asked, still feeling unsure, though Wade looked absolutely horrified that he had even asked that.

"NO, I'm not just saying that! I'm sorry I'm an idiot and made you self-conscious about it. It's literally the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen! You believe me, right?" He looked hopefully at the other man who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure. Whatever."

Logan did in fact believe him. Wade was usually pretty upfront when talking about things like this so he had no real reason to think that he was simply trying to spare his feelings.

Wade however, took his short, blunt answer as rejection as he wailed and threw his arms around Logan's waist to cling to him tightly.

"Noooo don't shut down on me! Please forgive me, Peanut! Pleeeeeease!"

Logan sighed heavily at how overdramatic Wade could be.

"Calm down, will ya? When I said 'whatever' I meant it's okay. You're fine. Now get off and stop groveling," he pried Wade's arms from around him as the merc then flopped onto his stomach, resting his chin on his hands and kicking his feet in the air.

"I'm not kidding, I could listen to your laughing snorts all day and it would never get old," he stared up at his roommate adoringly, "Sorry if I went a little overboard on you though." 

"You call that a little overboard?" Logan's eyebrow crawled up his forehead as Wade's mouth dropped at the implication that he was responsible for everything.

"Hey, wait a fucking minute here, don't put this all on me. You were asking for it with all that shit you were talking, which was....well, surprising. I'd assumed you never got tickled much in your life, but you seemed pretty familiar with it," he sat up and finally retied his robe closed around him.

Logan smiled slightly as he started to wander inside his head.

"It was another lifetime ago, but yeah. My old team used to tickle me sometimes. Been so long that honestly, I was pretty nervous about you trying it."

"Ah shit, I really am an asshole," Wade felt a tang of guilt in his chest, knowing the X-men were still a very sore spot for Logan, "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Confusion set over Logan's face.

"What for?"

"You know, for bringing up old memories you had with them. Don't worry, I won't do it again. I hope it didn't upset you too much."

Logan's puzzled expression then changed with a soft smile slowly breaking out.

"Wade ya got it all wrong. I'd have literally killed just to share in such mundane moments like that with them again. So once ya started tickling me it just, I don't know....made me think of those good times and...," he stopped as he looked away with a shake of his head, "Ah never mind, it's stupid."

"No no, it's not. Please keep going," Wade encouraged, scooting closer to indicate to Logan that he had his full attention.

"All I'm sayin' is that ya didn't upset me one bit. The opposite, in fact. That whole torture fest that you just put me through made me feel like I was with them again. I haven't felt that close to them ever since they were taken from me. And, well, what I'm trying to say is is that I felt.....happy."

Wade could feel his heart swelling up in his chest as Logan revealed all of this information to him. He instantly felt a lot better knowing that he hadn't caused his friend any mental anguish.

"That's such a big relief. You never seem to want to talk about them much, so I try to avoid making you think about them. The last thing I want to do is make you depressed."

"I know, but I've decided that's not what I should be doing. They don't deserve to not be openly remembered. Hell, I never want to forget anything about 'em."

Wade nodded in quiet understanding before Logan's eyes brightened up, reaching back into his mind.

"Kurt was the worst. He used to always get me bad. Really bad. Teleportation and a prehensile tail? It was always over for me before it even started. Heh, that fucker. Shit, even Jean and Scott would gang up on me once in a while. I tell ya, telekinesis is the ultimate cheat. And Rogue....she loved physical contact so you can guess that tickle fights were one of her favorite things. And I'd let her win once in a while....at least that's what I told myself, hmph."

Wade had never really heard Logan talk about his teammates before. It made him overjoyed to see he was starting to move forward in the right direction towards making peace with himself as Wade listened in silence to everything Logan said before finding his voice again.

"They sound like my kind of people. I think Nightcrawler and I would have made a formidable team-up against you," he playfully nudged Logan's shoulder as the X-man's smile grew from his mind manifesting an image of his old friend.

"Heh, Kurt. Yeah, he was something else. His goal was always trying to get me to snort too. He used to do those.....whaddya call that shit....raspberries. Right on my stomach. Just about damn near killed me," Logan chuckled and shook his head with a faint shiver running up his back; almost able to feel the sensation again as he thought about it.

Wade smirked as he rubbed his chin in thought like a supervillain.

"Ohhh reeeeeally....raspberries, huh? Well that sounds like it could be really fun. Remind me about it the next time I decide to tickle the shit out of you, kay?" Wade reached over and wiggled fingers into Logan's stomach, making him bust out a laugh before shoving the hand away.

"No fucking way. It's pure torture. Ya better not even think about it," he growled, but his words did not sound nearly as serious as he wanted Wade to believe. Of course, the other man picked up on that immediately but continued to play along.

"How can you expect me not to? I've never seen such ticklish abs. But okay. I'll think about not doing it, but no promises. So I suppose that means belly rubs are off the table too?"

Logan laughed again as he looked over at Wade.

"It's funny you say that because Jean and 'Ro used to give me belly rubs, thinking it would relax me, but it always just made me ticklish. I think that's partly why they liked doin' it, but regardless I never tried to stop them. Hell, sometimes I'd even ask for it. As much as it tickled it did feel pretty good."

"Well, I know I'm not nearly as hot as those X-women, but I'll always be here to give you all the belly rubs you could ever want," Wade chuckled, expecting Logan to roll his eyes and vehemently decline his offer, but instead a rare, warm smile broke onto the Wolverine's face.

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I would! You want one now?"

Logan shook his head as he got to his feet.

"Eh, maybe later. How about ya get your ass dressed first and we'll go out for a beer?"

Wade just stared back at him with both brows raised while he stood up as well.

"......It's 8:30 in the morning, Logan."

"Hey, breakfast beer is a thing, alright? Least it was in my universe. Kurt was always down to go with me so if ya want to.....it would mean a lot," a true, genuine smile was on Logan's face as he looked hopefully to his roommate.

Wade couldn't say no even if he actually wanted to. Logan was finally letting him into that side of his life, and he was not going to deny him. It felt like a new beginning. So he sidled up next to him and grinned broadly, putting an arm around the wide shoulders.

"Alright ya big lug, you talked me into it. Just give me a minute and then we'll go get fucked up."

"Appreciate it."

[multiheadcanons]

EVERYONE LOVES HEAVY!

aka merc relations with heavy

scout: that’s his big guy! his violent teddy bear! scout always enjoys the rare times he and heavy hang out one on one, and while he mentally can’t recall a time he hasn’t liked heavy; he’s pretty sure it’s because his body gave him a carnal note that heavy will rip his spine out and use it as a toothpick. he does his best to keep on the russian’s good side. exchanges jokes. they’ll sit together during mealtimes if nobody has beat scout to it.

soldier: that’s essentially his second in command. slow moving as he may be, if there’s only one guy on the team who can withstand more than one rocket, which is soldiers personal best without the medigun, he knows that’s his key to the city. has convinced heavy to go out for a night on the town with him before and heavy couldn’t handle being in a car that felt like it was going to fall to pieces with every mile. they’ll still go out every so often, heavy just drives a company car instead. heavy helped him figure out how to quit blowing himself up in an attempt to rocket jump.

pyro: in pyro’s eyes, heavy is their best friend in the whole world. heavy treats pyro very gently, because heavy doesn’t know what’s under there. pyro is normally the one that beats scout to the table to sit next to heavy. yapper x listener. heavy will nod solemnly to pyros nonstop muffled conversation, and will somehow give accurate and coherent answers to what pyro’s saying, and it makes pyro implode emotionally. they’ve never felt so understood. begs for hugs. if you didn’t know you would definitely think pyro had a crush on him.

demo: that’s his bud! rocky beginnings aside, they chat regularly on and off the battlefield. can occasionally beat pyro to the table to have his gab session with heavy. on the rare occasions they get to go home, they’ll ship each other alcohol from their home countries. demo doesn’t know, but heavy has kept the first bottle unbroken and sitting in his room at the base. all other bottles got drank. they also exchange jokes. they’ve tried their hand at opening a distillery in the base for some extra money. it didn’t go well. but they still laugh about it (and occasionally spend a week or two making bathtub gin to share. there was a time scout entered the bathroom for some bathtub gin and they were sitting in it, ass naked, off their rockers.)

engineer: engie is one of two people who don’t really interact with heavy enough to have a solid relationship with him. but there was a time on the battlefield that engie was getting swarmed. he had his back to the wall, and was defending his nest as best as he could. the enemy team almost destroyed everything before he heard heavy’s guttural yell and the almost silent whir of natascha build up, with medic of course being right behind him as they rounded the corner. watching the enemy team drop like flies, and watching that hulk of a man eat bullet after bullet after rocket after bullet for his little nest… it brought him to tears. he almost swooned. he yelled his thanks after him, he doesn’t know if heavy heard him over the satisfaction of bloodlust. heavy doesn’t know, but if he ever needed anything, the texan will be right behind him to help. mad scientist’d the distillery idea and electrocuted himself to the respawn machine.

medic: oh, doc’s definitely got a crush. the whole reason why everyone else fights for the one seat next to heavy is because medic is consistently on his right side. yapper x listener. storied history aside; they are a wonderful duo and make a great team. their chemistry is electric. it’s like they can read each others minds sometimes. heavy keeps medic cool headed; and the doctor will ignite heavy unlike anyone else. has joined in on the bathtub gin soaks between heavy and demo. medic’s taken rockets for heavy on the field, smiled and winked as his body was torn apart, and made his way back to heavy’s side always just in time before he’s to follow the doctors path to the respawn room. if doc can’t be there, he’s always sure to warn heavy he’ll be without support and to not die. if medic could, he would cut heavy open and live inside his skin. he would carefully remove his organs and place them in jars of formaldehyde and put those jars in a safety deposit box to keep for the rest of his natural and unnatural life. if they’re not within eyesight of each other, something is very wrong. and he’s thinks heavy’s cute to boot. stole a shirt from him just to have it. in case they never see each other again. he’s really grown fond of heavy throughout the years. heavy would’ve let him have it if he asked, he never wears it. he currently doesn’t even know it’s missing.

snipes: they’re like the team parents. snipes is the emotionally distant dad. they’ll chat about the silliness of their teammates, and comiserate in their idiocy. the only guy snipes goes out of his way to play a card game with. he likes heavy’s unique takes on things. likes how he’s family oriented. they have both been support systems for having hard talks with their family, because they’re the only two people who get the ache of not being with their families. he keeps an eye on heavy and medic in battle, and does what he can to keep them safe. he can’t protect heavy without also watching his doctor. if heavy spots him in his nest, they’ll wave at each other.

spy: spy is not quite sure how he’s supposed to feel about heavy. he’s currently neutral. he’s seen the man act like an absolute fool before. he’s also seen that man take control of situations on and off the battlefield. he knows he’s not dumb. he registers that heavy is intelligent, and capable, and perceptive. he just doesn’t know what he actually thinks about him. stalks him regularly while cloaked to get a better read on him. is almost… jealous of medic’s closeness to the man, despite their famed first interactions with each other. he’s not sure how to make a move into becoming his “friend”. gets awkward when he tries to speak to him.

[xxnashiraxx]

Happy Fic Moment of the Year

Thank you so much for the tags, @alwaysmauria, @roguishcat, @vividiana, and @andromedaancunin !!!

"Share an excerpt from any fic of yours that you wrote this year depicting a happy/fluffy/cute moment that you're proud of. Let's spread some joy for the last moments of the undeniably fucked-up year that was 2024" <- honestly.

I've chosen this little snip from Chapter 13 of With Stars to Fill My Dream where Ofelia buys the coffee from the Zhent trader in the goblin camp and tests the tadpole connection between her and Astarion to see if he can experience the taste of her chocolate candy through it. :") Plus this screenshot that accompanies it is really cute for them, il them sm. 💕

“What about if I drink it, and we open a connection? Could we test it?” He frowns, about to tell her this isn’t the time, but she looks adamant as she pulls some little sphere wrapped in foil out of her bag. “I suppose…” He trails off, watching her unwrap it to reveal a ball of something dark. Chocolate perhaps? She meets his eyes and he interprets her nod as permission before he links with her, the sensation slightly painful but surprisingly easier than it’s been in the past. Gale and Shadowheart look back at them curiously but stay rooted a few paces ahead as if giving them space. Ofelia lifts the candy to her mouth and pops it in, and he can feel the sensation of it on his tongue almost as if it were his own. For a moment, nothing else happens- he’s just looking at himself through her eyes, and gods is that a leaf in his hair? Honestly, everyone just let him walk around with that in? The nerve- “Oh,” He whispers, pressing his fingers to his lips as the faint taste of something mind-numbingly sweet coats his tongue. It’s novel, smooth, and wonderful as the phantom taste of it flows down his throat. She smiles at him with a fervor in her eyes, which he hadn’t seen before, and through the connection, he gets the impressions of her emotions- delight, adoration, and satisfaction. It all melds into a mix of tenderness he isn’t used to, and he staggers away from the bond with a swift snap. “Did you taste it?” She asks, reaching forward to grip his forearms, and he nods- slightly off-kilter. The twinkle of excitement in her eyes throws him, and with a nervous chuckle, he disengages from her touch to collect himself. “I… thank you. I would like to try the coffee,” He mumbles, feeling lost despite himself. It’s distracting, and he fights for a moment to process the sensation of taste again after two centuries of nothing. “Of course,” She smiles, bright like the sun. He almost has to shield his eyes from it. “When we wake up tomorrow, I’ll brew some and we’ll share a cup. Trust me, you’ll get it- I need the coffee to help me think clearer, fight better. Promise,” She laughs, mocking his little line from when he’d been pleading for a drink, her tongue curling obscenely around the words to try and emulate his accent. It’s an awful imitation, but it feels like honey in his ears as it brushes against his tense muscles. He watches her walk away, eyes lingering on the sway of her wide hips and he shakes his head free of the lingering emotions, likely just a side effect of the tadpole, before following them inside a larger room.

Tagging you all, sorry if this is a double tag since I'm behind!! Ily all! 💗

@pinkberrytea @khywren @bloodinwine @preciouslittlebhaalbae @ladyduellist @verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @lanafofana @elinorbard @badbloodwitch @caffeinatedmunchkin @bardic-inspo @justabiteofspite @bhaalsdeepbat @bhaal-battle-beer-bard @heylittleriotact @nerdallwritey @busy-baker +anyone else!! Please tag me so I can read your wonderful work!! 💕

[theartofcollapse]

Hey, it's me again with another Captain Benson request!

First I want to say that I love your fics 😍 could write you writean Olivia x Reader where the reader is super feminine and into the world of makeup (lolita, gyaru...) and Olivia feels forced to maintain a heteronormative act where she adapts to the "masculine" role until the reader realizes and starts to help her with this, that no matter what clothes she wears, or what profession she has, the two are in a sapphic relationship and there is nothing more "feminine" than being a woman?

I'm listening to Woman by Doja Cat hehehehe gave me this inspiration.

a/n: thank you for requesting this, I hope it's somewhat what you had in mind summary: read it above pairing: Olivia Benson x female reader warnings: none word count: 733

masterlist

Femininity - Olivia Benson

The room smelled of vanilla and jasmine, the faint scent of your favorite candle burning on the windowsill. You stood in front of the mirror, carefully applying the last touches of blush to your cheeks. Your pink, ruffled dress fluttered lightly as you moved, the lace at the hem brushing against your legs. Olivia sat across the room on your couch, still in her SVU blazer and slacks. She watched you with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” she said, voice soft but distant.

“Thank you,” you replied, setting down the brush and turning to her. You could feel her gaze lingering on your rhinestone-encrusted nails, the pastel palette of your clothes, and the oversized bow perched atop your perfectly styled hair. “Are you sure you don’t want to dress up too? You’d look gorgeous in something like this.”

Olivia chuckled, low and almost hesitant. “This isn’t really my thing, you know? I don’t think I could pull it off like you do.”

You frowned slightly but didn’t push. It wasn’t the first time she’d deflected when you suggested she try something different from her usual wardrobe of power suits and muted tones.

Olivia’s role as a detective, as the strong, stoic protector, had always been a defining part of who she was, but lately, you’d noticed something was off. She seemed to be trying harder to fit into the “masculine” role in your relationship - opening every door, insisting on paying for every meal, even avoiding soft touches in public. At first, you thought it was sweet, her way of taking care of you, but now it felt forced.

“Liv,” you said, stepping closer and sitting beside her. “You know you don’t have to act a certain way around me, right?”

Her brow furrowed, confusion clouding her features. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “You’ve been putting yourself in this box, like you need to be the ‘man’ in the relationship. But we’re both women. I love you for who you are, not because you’re trying to play some role.”

She looked away, her jaw tightening. “It’s not that simple, Y/N. I’m used to being strong, being the one people rely on. And with you…” She glanced at your soft, glittery appearance, her voice dropping. “I don’t want people to think I’m not enough for you. That I’m not feminine enough for you.”

Your heart broke at her words. You reached out, taking her hand in yours, the contrast between your delicate, manicured fingers and her calloused ones a poignant reminder of your different worlds.

“Olivia,” you said gently, “there’s nothing more feminine than being a woman. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a suit or a dress, if you’re wearing makeup or not. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all to me.”

She met your gaze, vulnerability shining in her dark eyes. “It’s just… you’re so beautiful, Y/N. So soft, so confident in who you are. Sometimes I feel like I don’t measure up.”

You squeezed her hand. “You’re beautiful too, Liv. In your own way. And you don’t have to change a thing about yourself for me to love you. But if you ever do want to explore a different side of yourself, I’m here for that too. We can try things together, figure it out. No judgment.”

For the first time that evening, her smile was genuine. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you said, standing and tugging her to her feet. “Now, let’s start small. How about we paint your nails? Just something subtle to start with.”

Olivia chuckled, the sound lighter now. “You’re not going to rest until you get me into pink, are you?”

You grinned. “I’m very persuasive.”

She followed you to the vanity, letting you guide her into the chair. As you painted her nails a soft, neutral shade with a touch of shimmer, the tension in her shoulders melted away.

By the end of the night, Olivia wasn’t just wearing nail polish, she was smiling, laughing, and letting herself be vulnerable with you. And as you curled up together on the couch, her arms around you and your head on her shoulder, you knew that together, you were breaking down the walls of expectation and redefining what it meant to be feminine, strong, and in love.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Unspoken Melody p.7

Hi guys, here's a new part of the story, if you've missed part 6 here it is :) If you want to read more of my stories, here's my masterlist.

Two drivers, one unforgettable concert, and a chance encounter with a pop sensation that leaves Oscar questioning everything he thought about music—and maybe even himself.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the unfamiliar softness of the bed and the faint smell of something comforting—laundry detergent and a hint of vanilla. You blinked against the morning light, trying to piece together where you were.

Before panic could set in, a soft knock at the door drew your attention. It opened slightly, and Oscar peeked in, his expression a mix of concern and hesitation.

“Hey,” he said gently. “You’re awake.”

You sat up, the blanket sliding down to your lap. “Wait… where am I?”

“This is my room,” he said, stepping inside. “You fell asleep in the motorhome after, well, everything. I didn’t want to wake you, and it was getting late, so I brought you back here. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of his gesture. “Oscar, you didn’t have to do that. But… thank you. Really.”

He waved it off, sitting in the chair by the window. “You don’t have to thank me. I just didn’t want you to wake up alone after… everything.”

The memories of the previous day rushed back, sharp and painful. Mark’s betrayal, the headlines, the whispers in the paddock—it all came flooding in, and you felt the sting of tears threatening to fall again.

Oscar seemed to sense it immediately. “Hey,” he said softly, leaning forward. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. None of it is fair.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “You’re apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong. Mark… he’s the one who should be apologizing.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened. “You’re right, but I can’t help feeling bad for you. You deserve so much better. Honestly, it makes me furious that he could treat you like this.”

The raw honesty in his voice caught you off guard. “I feel like such a fool,” you admitted quietly. “I should’ve seen it coming. Maybe if I wasn’t so busy with work, or—”

“No,” he interrupted firmly, his gaze locking onto yours. “Don’t do that to yourself. This isn’t your fault. You trusted him, and he’s the one who broke that trust. That’s on him, not you.” His voice softened as he added, “If anything, he’s the fool for not seeing what he had. Anyone who loses you… he’s the one who’s lost something incredible.”

The way he said it—so earnest and sincere—made your breath catch. For a moment, you just looked at him, your heart aching with gratitude.

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You glanced at the screen: it was your manager.

“Sorry,” you muttered, picking it up.

“It’s okay,” Oscar said, sitting back to give you some space.

Your manager’s voice was calm but carried a sense of urgency. “I saw the news. It’s already everywhere. For now, lay low. Don’t post anything, and don’t make any public appearances unless absolutely necessary. We’ll handle the fallout later.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Understood.”

When the call ended, you sighed and looked back at Oscar. “I should go back to my room. You’ve already done so much for me, and you need to rest. You’ve got a race tomorrow.”

Oscar shook his head. “I’m not worried about that right now. What matters is that you’re okay. Are you sure you want to be alone?”

You hesitated, your exhaustion warring with the fear of being left alone with your thoughts. “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much tonight. Maybe I’ll order some food and watch a movie or something.”

His eyes softened. “You don’t have to do that alone. If you want, we could stay here. I’ll order pizza, and we can watch something together. No pressure, though.”

The kindness in his offer made your chest tighten. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he said, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “I don’t mind at all.”

So you stayed.

The two of you argued playfully over pizza toppings before settling on a large half-and-half. When it arrived, you curled up on the couch beside Oscar, the awkwardness between you replaced by an easy camaraderie.

As the comedy played, you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks. Oscar’s quiet chuckles were contagious, and every now and then, he’d glance at you to make sure you were still smiling.

“Thank you,” you said softly during a quieter moment in the movie.

“For what?” he asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

“For being here. For… everything.”

He shrugged, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed how much he cared. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad I could help.”

And as the night wore on, sharing pizza and laughter, you felt a flicker of hope in the warmth of his presence—a reminder that even in the midst of heartbreak, kindness could still find its way to you.

@justaf1girl

[averysexyleon]

when fenris met cassandra

scene: fenris arrives at skyhold, to talk to the inquisitor about getting hawke out of the fade

 "I am Solas.  I will be helping you return to the Fade for Hawke."

"Then I am grateful for your help."  

"Of course."  Brusque.  He certainly wasn’t Dalish.  He also didn’t seem like a city elf.  "I’ve heard about you.  Mostly from Merrill."  They were in the main hall.  Solas knew where they were going, apparently, and led Fenris toward the entrance to the castle.  There were a lot of steps here, but gratefully, the other elf strode quickly, clearly very familiar with the castle grounds.  "Your work against the Tevinter slave trade, and other guilds--is extremely admirable.  You have my thanks, for what it is worth."

This strangely blunt compliment left the warrior silent for a moment, until he stuttered out a, "Uh, thank you."  It was more of a mutter than anything else.  The steps were taken care of, and now they crossed a courtyard, where the pair of barefoot elves drew plainly open stares.  There were merchants, travelers, soldiers, and resting scouts all happy to pay attention to the odd-looking pair.  

The long-haired elf’s ponytail caught on his shoulder as he turned his head, scanning the full field for any sign of Merrill.   Fenris’s face must have been doing something unpleasant; Solas smirked.  "It might not surprise you to know that the Inquisition soldiers are some of Varric’s most dedicated fanbase."

Fenris groaned; he had met a few spare travelers here and there in Ferelden who digested the drivel from the dwarf; he couldn’t bear an entire yard’s worth of them.  Varric wrote some epically broody, intensely passionate version of Fenris that, to him, didn’t exist.  It was probably some inside joke between Varric and Hawke--it seemed their way.  "Drivel," he growled, to Solas’s chuckle, and then a very unexpected--severe, face moved in front of the pair, completely oblivious to anyone else’s stares.  

"Solas, have you spo--" She gasped, not hiding her amazement at seeing Fenris.  Her eyes widened, and a hand came up to cover her mouth.  He smothered the urge to wince, and internally reminded himself to get a hood, or a cloak, or a cloaked hood....or a box, or an underground tunnel to travel through--

"You ARE here!  It’s you! It IS Fenris, is it not?  Companion Warrior and Bodyguard of the Champion of Kirkwall?"

Solas’s smile was uncanny.  "Fenris, this is--"

"Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast?"  His voice was a deep growl next to the other elf’s.  She didn’t look ready to shake his hand, but Fenris eagerly extended his own.  

"How do you ...know?"

"I’ve heard much of you from Varric.  And Templars I’ve met in travels."

Another gasp.  He’d heard many tales of the Seeker, never met her in person, and now as she clasped his hands gingerly with her gloved ones, he wondered why the image given to him had always been far more brute-like than her actual appearance.  Cassandra was very feminine, if bluntly spoken, but for the first time since arriving, Fenris was actually drawn to another--and a human, to boot.  

"Varric speaks of me?!  What does he say?"

Solas looked as if he might burst into laughter, his odd purple eyes flickering between the pair of them as they spoke, her reluctantly dropping the elf’s hand--he was glad for the brief touch to be over.  Fenris dipped his head entreatingly, curling his fingers and flexing them.  "I’ve heard many stories.  You perform impressive work.  I would love to...what do they call it? Talk shop, sometime, if you’ve a mind."

Cassandra’s stern facial expression mutated into something like a child fawning over a puppy.  It slowly dawned on Fenris that she was as excited about meeting him as he was her; the realization made him blush, but fortunately his dark skin meant that his embarrassment was only visible on the tips of his ears, if one were looking.  Solas certainly was.  

"I...talk! About...fighting?  Oh, but of course! I read of your techniques and of course the...your....the markings, but Varric’s writing left me with so many questions!  I hadn’t even considered that we might...but yes!"  She was blushing too, and luckily, she was talking enough for both of them.  Fenris was already considering how painful a leap from the ramparts would be after this conversation.  Cassandra’s wide eyes suddenly narrowed when she caught Solas’s smirk.  "And YOU, not a word--don’t you dare--Fenris, I’m certain you have other things to attend to...but please do come find me.  Solas, by the Maker, if you--"

She rounded on the other elf, who laughed and pointed at a nearby, warmly lit building.  "There is your tavern, with the Inquisitor likely inside."  Then the other elf’s attentions were all on gloating at Cassandra’s moment of weakness.  Fenris awkwardly bowed his head, which she returned with a flustered mini-curtsy, before rounding on Solas with a robust string of threats.  Admirable.  Fenris snorted to himself as he made toward the tavern.

[koalaforlife]

So it's been a while since I've read the manga

And because of that and some comments I came across lately (e.g. one analysis about Mikasa showing more development in the manga but being reduced to Ereeeh in the anime) I am thinking I need to go back and re-read it especially now that I have such a different perspective on things and not only do I tolerate and understand some characters better than I ever did when I first read it (looking at you, Floch, still despicable AF but hey I get you, homie) but also I'm sure there were things that the (less-wise) me from 6 years ago missed out at that time.

However, for the sake of writing my thoughts down here as a journal and perhaps getting some quick answers from fans that have a better memory than I do, I will touch on a possibly controversial topic and, actually BECAUSE I have surrounded myself with Levihan fans, I am optimistic that I will get the answers I need, from people who can stay objective and see things as they are and not as they make them out to be.

I don't want to engage in any ship wars or dismiss the validity of any relationship. I'm just curious.

So I was watching some videos on character analyses and at some point I noticed how common it was to say that Levi and Erwin were best friends, Levi was incredibly loyal to Erwin, Erwin was Levi's rock, etc. And I for sure started out in this fandom with the same thought, but for the life of me now, I can't remember....Why?

People tend to say Erwin was Levi's best friend but now I can't help but think Levi had two best friends, Erwin and Hange. What part of Erwin and Levi's friendship got translated to ULTIMATE BFFS in the fandom?

Again, I am not looking to start a war, and even if I don't get an answer now, I'm sure I will when I re-read the manga, it will just take some time.

But here's what I thought, and only based on memories I have from either the anime (which I have revisited in the recent years, unlike the manga) and the levihan analysis posts I read a long time ago.

To me, judging by the way I've experienced the fandom, it almost looks like the friendship between Erwin and Levi was "told" for the most part, whereas Levi and Hange's was "shown."

Other than Levi deciding to follow Erwin because "he could see something he couldn't" (and of course, because Erwin's speech was that great, that enlightening, that motivating), other than him trusting Erwin's judgement each and every time because he knows his reasoning is flawless, other than the choice a heartbroken Levi makes (to put Erwin to rest)...I can only say these two were great friends because I remember fandom saying it for so long, so it feels like I was "told" they were great friends but the manga showed it only a few times. Interestingly enough though, even these few examples I mentioned are actually presented in the form of sentences uttered by none other than Levi, either as a monologue or in a dialogue.

Whereas with Hange and Levi, I can count already from the top of my head some of the instances that show a different dynamic, and hint at a close friendship as well. Their famous telepathy, the way Hange understands and translates Levi, the way she oversteps and he lets her, the way she was the first to treat him as a friend etc. And we see these from the interactions and conversations but never do we hear impactful or emotional monologues from Levi (regarding Hange).

How do I describe this? It feels to me that the ExL relationship is revealed mostly through Levi's words (and fandom's words - for now, until someone can remind me some other impactful scenes that hint otherwise) whereas the HxL relationship is revealed mostly through characters' dynamics.

Personally, what I want to believe, regardless of whatever the fuck Isayama wrote as canon, is that the three of them were besties, that Erwin and Hange were as great friends as ExL and HxL were and that is my ultimate headcannon and no one can convince me otherwise :D

Still, I was curious to know if other people shared the same experience of how the two relationships were portrayed, and if someone can remind me of some essential scenes that depicted ExL friendship because it's been so long that I don't remember anything else, and I don't want their canon friendship to be reduced to "they are best friends because people say so" for me.