#Even if it's not ME doing it it just feels... weird.. Maybe it has to do with my OCD and how I just don't like talking about ''future''

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (31/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.

Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!

"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"

You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."

You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."

"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."

"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."

Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"

You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."

Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.

When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."

When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"

"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder. 

"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"

"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh. 

You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."

Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."

Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly. 

"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment. 

The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.

You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes. 

In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple. 

That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family. 

It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins. 

You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?

You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed. 

You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -

"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers. 

"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"

"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?" 

The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"

Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second. 

You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"

"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"

"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again. 

"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."

"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"

"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."

"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour." 

"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot. 

And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."

"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."

"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."

Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."

"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip. 

Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends. 

Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."

You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good. 

Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks. 

"I miss this."

You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"

"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.

You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."

Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."

"Explain it to me." 

"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news. 

Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."

"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it." 

"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."

Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."

You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"

Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"

"What about me?" 

"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."

You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on. 

Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"

As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.

"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."

Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods. 

"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."

Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."

Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him. 

"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back. 

"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."

You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."

You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear. 

Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now." 

You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back. 

"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.

You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."

And you do.

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[penkura]

where you belong [1/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Notes: Hi, it's me again! Another fanfic here for you all! When this goes up, I'll be on my last day of vacation before I fly home, so I hope that you'll enjoy this! I know Straw Hat Reader x Law is popular, and I wanted to write my own, but with the Reader being Luffy's biological older sister. So for this, Reader is three years older than Luffy, 20 at the start and 22 after the timeskip, making Law four years older. I personally like older men, and age gap fics are just delicious reading material for me (within reason, nothing illegal).

Note 2: This is NOT the Law with vitiligo series. That one is actively being planned but will be separate from this one.

“And I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!!”

Luffy standing your tiny dingy boat worries you a little, but you still grin at him and nod.

“Hell yeah you will be!”

“Your turn! What’re you gonna do while we sail??”

Rolling your eyes, you make Luffy sit down while you stand up.

“Easy. I’m gonna chronicle your journey and write the greatest story ever told!”

Your younger brother watches you, tilting his head when you don’t continue. He believes there has to be more you want out of life, and tries to make you say what else is in your plans, what you have on your mind.

“And?”

Taking a breath, you nod. Of course he knew you had more, it’s Luffy, he’s been by your since he was just a few weeks old. Things you’ve said over time, to him and Ace, they’d both known for a long time what you’ve always wanted to find once you went out to sea.

“And find where it is I belong.”

+!+

Your arrival in Sabaody was a trip, in more than one way. You'd been excited to explore the place, hoping you could pawn your younger brother off on Camie, Pappag, and the others so you could have some time on your own to shop the stalls, maybe with Nami and Robin, turn it into a girl’s day. Of course, though, nothing could be so easy when your brother is the captain of the Straw Hats. You all find yourselves at the human auction hall, Nami willing to spend all the money possible to save Camie, but it makes you itchy while being there. You cringe to think about the things that happened in this place, how many people had been sold to Celestial Dragons. Your and Luffy's loss of Sabo due to the actions of one had severely soured your opinions on them.

You scan the crowd in the auction house, scratching at your arms which never seem to calm down while the rest of your crew discusses their plan to save Camie, and you end up locking eyes with another pirate captain there, unknown to you at that moment but somehow familiar.

A furry white, spotted hat, dark hair you can barely see, oddly enough you think his facial hair is attractive, and those yellow eyes that you almost would believe see right through you.

Trafalgar Law simply stares at you, realizing you’re a Straw Hat when he recognizes the rest of your crewmates. After a moment of fidgeting slightly you give him a nervous smile and a wave, which he returns with a nod before turning back to the auction stage as they continue to call bids on people.

Weird girl.

Strange guy.

Although she’s busy watching for Camie to be brought out, Nami still leans into you when you pull on her sleeve and start to whisper. “You see that guy in the white spotted hat?”

“What about him?”

“I think he’s Trafalgar Law, captain of the Heart Pirates. He’s more attractive than his poster makes him.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami pulls her arm away from you. “I don’t have time for you to be horny about some guy.”

“Wha—Nami!! I’m not! I’m just saying.”

She doesn’t listen to you anymore, focusing back on waiting for Camie and sending you to watch for Luffy, just so you don’t get distracted by the attractive enemy captain and defect to another crew.

You swear you never will, but do as you’re told to watch for your brother. Maybe one day you’ll get to properly meet Law, you’re quite curious about the young man.

+!+

“Another one?! Are you kidding me, Dragon?!”

You’re three years old when you wake up to your grandfather yelling at someone in the middle of the night. Normally Garp is sure to keep things quiet so you, his sweet little princess angel granddaughter, can sleep peacefully. He’d leave early in the morning once your nanny showed up for the day, returning before dinner so he had the evenings with you before you had to be off to bed, to do the day over again the next morning. It’s rare for you to stay up late or wake up early, but the few mornings you’ve woken up before he left were some of Garp’s favorites.

You quietly slip out of your bed, blanket in your hand as you rub your eyes and go to the door, opening it just enough to see what’s happening. Garp is there with someone in a green cloak, you can’t see the other person’s face, but listen anyway.

“He’s the last one, there won’t be anymore.”

“You said [Y/N] was going to be the only one!”

“Things happened.”

“Obviously something happened, babies don’t appear out of thin air!’

You tilt your head, the man in the cloak catching your eye, which makes you shy away behind your doorway, glancing away before back to him as he looks to Garp again.

“Take care of them.” He goes to leave and is gone before Garp can even stop him.

“Dragon, wait--! That…damn idiot.”

“Grandpa?”

Garp is surprised to hear your voice, turning around once he closes the door, giving you a smile while you start to focus on the bundle he's holding.

“Hey there, princess, what are you doing up?”

“I heard yelling…”

Nodding, Garp apologizes as he picks you up, letting you settle on his free arm. “Sorry about that, angel. Just… an unexpected visitor.”

“Oh…”

Garp sees you staring more at the bundle of blankets in his arm than at him, and he sighs a bit, taking you to the living room and setting you on the couch, before showing you how to position your arms as he sets the now squirming bundle in your arms.

“[Y/N], this is your baby brother. His name is Luffy.”

How unexpected! You’ve never thought about having a sibling, just enjoying your childhood and life with your grandpa, but seeing this tiny little boy in your just as small arms makes you grin while you look at him. Dark black hair and just as dark eyes, scrunched up little face and tiny hands in fists while he starts to fuss and whine.

“Luffy…”

+!+

Luffy…

You hope your prayers aren’t going unheard, that Luffy will return to you safely. Ace’s death has long passed, but you’re more worried about your little brother than anything else right now. You’d both been sent off to Amazon Lily by Kuma, but after they’d all agreed to let you both stay, and Boa Hancock seems to have fallen in love with him, Luffy left you there to go rescue Ace, that was nearly three weeks ago now, you think. You want him back, both of them, but want to see Luffy more than anyone else.

“Luffy’s returned, [Y/N]-san!”

“He has?!”

Marguerite nods and you quickly get up from your seat and run after her to wherever Luffy is. The newspapers kept implying he was dead, you were terrified you’d lost him and Ace that day, no updates from anyone apart from the papers cheering for the Navy’s alleged victory, for the deaths of Ace and Whitebeard. The Amazons, all so kind to let you stay while Luffy went to try and rescue Ace, were unsure of how to help you the last two weeks once Ace’s vivre card burned to nothing in your hands and made you nearly inconsolable.

Despite that, your prayers hadn’t gone unheard.

Once you’re at the beach that Luffy should be at, you notice immediately the big yellow submarine with the word DEATH on it and it freaks you out more than anything. You don’t know who owns it, but when you catch sight of someone you’ve only seen in person once, you worry that he’s done something to Luffy. You don’t say a word, but someone in a jumpsuit (boiler suit you think?) calls out “captain” just in time for him to turn towards you as you shove the older boy to the ground, placing yourself on top of him and your knife to his neck.

Part of you wishes it was poisoned right now, just in case this Trafalgar Law has done something to your brother.

“Where’s Luffy?!”

The knife you have at his neck doesn’t phase Law even a tiny bit, it’s the fact that someone so much shorter and smaller than him was able to catch him off guard and shove him to the ground the way you did. You’re angry for some reason, giving him a nasty glare but look like you’re about to cry on top of it, as he just stares at you, his crewmembers shouting for you to get off their captain before he raises a hand to stop them.

“Who—”

“Tell me, where is my brother?!”

Oh so that’s what’s wrong, that’s who you are. Whether you’re related to Luffy by blood or by ritual cup like Ace was, Law doesn’t know, but he’s sure you want reassurance you haven’t lost two brothers in one day.

“Are you [Y/N]?”

You turn your head to look over your shoulder at Jinbei, still glaring. “Who’s asking?!”

“I was friends with your brother Ace, he told me about you and Luffy while we were in Impel Down.”

“He…did?”

You’ve calmed down so quickly hearing Ace’s name, retracting your knife just slightly, while Jinbei explains things to you. You don’t move off of Law though, listening quietly, fighting the desire to cry more. You’ve done enough of that, you don’t want to anymore today.

Law doesn’t even try to move you off, knowing, like Luffy, you’re emotionally hurting right now. He doesn’t want to risk you slicing his neck either, even as Jinbei finishes telling you everything Ace did, and you still don’t move or look at Law.

“Ace hopes you find what you’re looking for.”

You clench your jaw a bit at first, before smiling sadly and nodding, thanking Jinbei for the information before Law speaks up.

“If you get off me, I can take you to Straw Hat-ya.” 

You blink, finally looking back to Law, and you feel your face burn with a blush when you realize your position and scramble to get off him, apologizing the whole way while he shakes his head. Once he’s on his feet, Law let’s you onto the Polar Tang and leads you down the hallway to the infirmary, updating you on Luffy’s condition the best he can with the knowledge he has.

“If he pulls through this, the most you’ll have to worry about is his mental health.”

“Mm.” You nod, grabbing Law’s arm as he stops to open a door, making him look back at you. “I apologize for shoving you down.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Law shrugs, you could tell just from looking at him, though he does smirk a bit at you, “Never had a girl push me down and hold a poisoned knife to my neck before though.”

“It wasn’t poisoned,” you almost shout, but keep your voice down to not wake Luffy, “…this time…”

He almost laughs, but when you see Luffy finally, you’re instantly but his side, taking his hand and trying to keep yourself from crying seeing him in such a state. He’d been injured badly before, but never like this, never this close to death.

“Luffy…oh Luffy, I’m here, Lu,” you brush his bangs away from his face before kissing his forehead, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, I should’ve come with you…”

Law doesn’t bother you for the next several minutes, stepping out so you have some privacy while you make sure Luffy is all right, your quiet prayers that he wakes soon and heals quickly don’t go unheard by the surgeon of death, who thinks back to his own sister and the prayers he’d once prayed for her health as a child.

As an older sibling, he gets it. While he still doesn’t know yet if you’re related by blood or sworn siblings, he does see how much you care for Luffy, and for your sake he hopes your captain wakes sooner rather than later.

+!+

You spend the next two weeks in and out of the Polar Tang, checking on Luffy and praying over him to wake soon, Law being the one to take you in and lead you back out most of the time, even though you’ve memorized the path already. The next time you leave Luffy to continue recovering, the friends you and Luffy have made from Amazon Lily have shown up in the time you’ve been with him, bringing food and drinks for you all. As you walk over to where he’s seated, Law offers you a drink that you reject with a shake of your head, sitting on the other side of the tree and bringing your knees up to your chest, hiding your face in them.

“Any signs he’s waking up?”

Shaking your head, you sigh and lean back, looking at the people around to distract yourself from worrying over Luffy.

“That your crew?”

“Yep. All twenty of them.”

You smile a bit, watching the Heart Pirates goof off while some have their meal and share drinks. It almost reminds you of the Straw Hats and makes your heart ache from missing them deeply.

“You have a nice group there.”

“They can be a handful.”

It makes you laugh a bit, nodding before you decide to stop wallowing and get back up, standing beside Law where he stays seated.

“Think you should hold this for now.”

Law tosses Luffy’s straw hat to you, and you grit your teeth a bit while you stare at it. You had wondered where it was, seeing it wasn’t around when you were with Luffy. You hold nothing but the highest regards for Shanks, he'd been an inspiration for you and Luffy when you were children, he helped end the war and helped Law save Luffy, but how you wish he’d shown up sooner. Maybe he could’ve helped Ace too.

“Thank you, for holding this.”

“Seems important to him, he’s not Straw Hat-ya without it.”

Smiling a bit, you nod. “He’s certainly not.”

“How do you—”

“I’m his big sister. I was three when our dad dropped him off with me and grandpa. We’ve been together almost every day since.”

“I see.”

You’re not entirely sure you trust Law, despite his saving Luffy, but you’re willing to give him a shot. At least let him know a bit about your history with Ace too, since he'd been there when you hadn’t been. Where Luffy asked you not to go.

“We met Ace and another boy when I was ten, and become sworn siblings with them soon after. The other boy died a few months later,” you grip the straw hat a bit tighter, but loosen your hold after being stabbed in the hand by sharp bits of straw, “a Celestial Dragon did it, we’ve not been fans of them since, so Luffy punching that one in Sabaody felt like some payback.”

“That makes sense.”

After a few minutes of silence, you finally realize something and turn to Law, sticking your hand out for him.

“Never introduced myself. Monkey D. [Y/N]. I don’t really use my last name though.”

Law takes your hand after a moment, nodding. “Trafalgar Law.”

“Thank you for saving my baby brother.”

“Don’t thank me until he wakes up.”

As if almost on cue, the door comes flying off the Polar Tang and you both whip your heads over, Law running ahead of you as you follow, and Luffy’s the next thing to almost fly out of the ship.

“Luffy!!”

You’re about to run to him before Law grabs hold of your arm, pulling you to himself and holding you still, even while you thrash around and listen to Luffy call for Ace. It breaks your heart to see him so upset, and you just want to console him, have him do the same for you, while you both continue to grieve for Ace. But Law won’t let you go to him, fear or concern your brother might hurt you while he fights through pain and raging emotions, before he disappears into the forest.

“Luffy, come back!!”

You barely register Jinbei asking what’ll happen if Luffy continues to flail and run off like that, before Law speaks and your heart almost drops to your stomach at the thought.

“If he continues to move around like that he could reopen his wound and bleed out. He’ll die.”

Quickly you turn around and Law isn’t at all shocked to see the tears welling up in your eyes as you grip his shirt, still holding Luffy’s straw hat.

“Don’t let that happen!! Please!! He’s all I have! Luffy is my whole world, I can’t lose him!!”

Unsure of what to do, especially once you lay your head on his chest while you cry, Law hesitantly wraps his arms around you and watches Jinbei go off to Luffy. Maybe he’ll be able to calm your brother down before he really hurts or kills himself.

You’ve both been through a lot the last few weeks, losing Luffy would break you more than losing Ace did to him.

+!+

“I’m sorry I got snot on your shirt.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash.”

You glance away and keep your eyes averted while Law changes shirts, having taken you onto the Polar Tang while Jinbei attempts to calm Luffy down. He didn’t fully mean to bring you into his room, but he never let go of your wrist while he led through the ship, making you sit down to hopefully calm you down. You do catch sight of his tattoos, wanting to say something but you don’t want to sound like a creep or a pervert at the same time.

“Why don’t you use your last name?”

Law surprises you once he’s changed shirts, this one almost the same as the yellow one he’d been wearing, but now a dark blue with a furry, feathery collar that you really want to pet, it looks soft. But again, you don’t want to seem like a creep.

For a moment you’re quiet, before you cross your arms and lean against the wall, shrugging.

“Why should I use the name of someone who abandoned me? I only have one memory of my father, and it was when he dropped off Luffy.”

“Your grandfather is Garp, isn’t he?”

“I love my grandpa like he’s my dad…but I don’t want to use my last name.”

Law nods a bit, seeming to understand. You felt abandoned, and wanted nothing to do with your biological father, instead viewing Garp in that light, which makes sense.

He'd viewed Corazon in the same light at one point.

“Your mother?”

“I know nothing about her. It’s like…” You start to bury your head in your knees again, almost digging your nails into your arms, “Like I don’t know who I am half the time…”

He gets that too, the same feelings after Flevance, after losing Corazon and leaving the Don Quixote family, leaving Doflamingo behind. Many times of looking in the mirror and asking “who the hell am I”.

Law is about to respond, before one of his crewmembers yells for you both that Luffy and Jinbei have returned to the beach, and you’re out the door so fast he isn’t able to believe it. He follows you out, not all surprised to see you and Luffy hugging each other tightly once he exits his ship.

Your bond with Luffy would be on full display the next few days, Law truthfully does wonder if he and Lammy would’ve been the same.

+!+

“I met some people who are friends with our dad.”

“You what?”

Luffy nods, giving you this information during dinner one evening, while you stare at him with such a blank look that Law thinks you’ve completely shut down. You didn’t say too much about your dad while you relayed some of your childhood to him earlier that day, apart from your perceived abandonment, but the look you have isn’t a very happy one.

“They’re were some cool people! They helped me escape that prison and…tried to help me save Ace.”

“So they were revolutionaries.”

“Yeah, they…they said they didn’t even know we existed.” Luffy scrunches up his face a bit while you frown, then pat his head.

“I’m not surprised, Lu.”

Luffy makes a face now, one that’s almost disgusted but annoyed but upset maybe. Law swears he isn’t trying to eavesdrop, you two are sitting too close to him anyway, you’re practically pressed up against his side. You both appear to have problems with your father, after the little bit you’ve told him and how you confessed to feeling abandoned by your parents. He wonders briefly is Luffy feels the same, even as your younger brother leans against you, pushing you fully into Law’s arm and making you glance up at him apologetically. He doesn’t move, once again doesn’t push you off, instead shifting his arm enough for you to be comfortable.

When Luffy falls asleep, you finally speak again.

“Luffy met our dad once, in Loguetown”

“Oh yeah?”

“Neither of us knew until grandpa told us…he didn’t even stop to say anything to me…”

“…I’m sorry.”

You shrug, watching Luffy. It still stung to know that, to know that Dragon didn’t even seek you out when he must’ve known you were on Luffy’s crew, that you’d never leave him to do this alone. When Garp told you he’d been in Loguetown that day, it felt like a knife in your heart that you didn’t even get to see or speak to your father.

Law, while he watches you start to drift off to sleep yourself, thinks about his own dad and Corazon at the same time. He had two fathers in the end, who both cared about and loved him deeply, both wanting to protect him as long as they could. He had his mother and Lammy too, you had Luffy and Garp, but it wasn’t enough for you, and it makes sense. To not have that connection with the people who gave you life, Law can’t even imagine how difficult that must be.

He ignores the slight snickers and comments from his crew when they see you leaned against him, even has he slightly tilts his head towards yours, not going all the way to lay his against your own. Even when Shachi makes a small comment about ‘love’ being in the air at Amazon Lily, Law doesn’t open his eyes to respond or even Shambles his friend away.

You won’t see each other again for a long time after this, most likely, so he’s willing to give you some comfort and allow his crew to see him a little softer than normal.

+!+

“Bye, thanks for your help, Traffy!”

Law tries not to grimace at the nickname Luffy’s given him over the last few days, nodding to you both as his crew also shouts goodbyes and wave to you both, you personally sad to see them leave. You’d spent so much time getting to know them while taking care of Luffy, that it felt like you were losing friends again. You’d probably see them one day, maybe as friends but maybe as foes, yet, you’d like to see more of Law and learn about him like he had you.

Luffy notices your face, the sad look it has, then looks back to the Heart Pirates as they start to disappear below deck. You’ve already chosen to stay on Amazon Lily the next two years and learn from the women there how to fight, but even watching you the last couple days, he could see your heart wasn’t in it. You more so loved using your knives and making poisons, he remembers the one he and Ace mistakenly drank thinking it was lavender tea from Makino. You weren’t an archer or a swordswoman, you much prefer close combat and paralyzing your enemies. Your work during Enies Lobby earned you your $25 million berri bounty, the Navy having trouble recreating antidotes from the one you’d left with a knocked out marine, they knew you’d be trouble one day.

With all that in mind, Luffy sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around you in what you first believe to be a hug, before he lifts you up and you look at him. He’s got a grin that concerns you greatly as the color drains from your face.

“Luffy.”

He giggles a bit, nodding at you to brace yourself.

“Luffy, don’t you dare.”

“Have fun with Traffy for two years!!!”

He doesn’t give you anymore room to argue, flinging you towards the Polar Tang, making you yell for Law to pay attention, and he barely does in time to catch you, knocking both of you to the ground, several Heart Pirates making sure both of you are all right and that Law didn’t hit his head on anything.

You’re up and holding onto the railing, yelling at Luffy, “You’re an idiot!!!”

He pretends he can’t hear you, waving widely and shouting another goodbye, but to you this time.

Once Law is sitting up, realizing what the hell has happened, he sighs a bit while you look back to him.

“I’m sorry, Trafalgar. You can turn back and I’ll beat some sense into him!”

One of his crewmembers, you’re pretty sure it’s Shachi, leans down to ask him, “Should we? Kinda seems like Straw Hat wants us to take her along.”

He sighs, taking his hat off and running his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“You can stay.”

“…huh?”

You tilt your head in confusion, Law doesn’t think it’s cute at all no matter what that weird feeling in his chest is, while he stands up and nods at you.

“The Amazons might get angry if we return without permission, so we’ll just…take you along…and then bring you to Sabaody.”

Blinking several times, you’re still confused while some of his crew laugh, Penguin coming up to pat you on the back.

“You’re a temporary Heart Pirate! We’ll take care of you!”

Nodding, Law turns to go below deck.

“Say your goodbye, we’ll be going under shortly.”

While the rest of them follow after their captain, you turn back and see Luffy still waving at you, which makes you sigh and shake your head. You do smile though, you had wanted to continue getting to know Law and his crew, this was a perfect opportunity, and maybe he could help you with creating effective antidotes for your poisons.

“Luffy! Love you, see you in two years!”

“Okay!!!!”

Once you go below deck, Penguin being the one to wait for you in order to close the door properly, he starts to show you around a bit, the rest of the crew happy to see you’re staying with them for now, while Law keeps a slight distance unless he’s asked about something. You looking around and being so impressed by the submarine caused another weird feeling in his chest, and he fights to ignore it, especially when you thank him for letting you stay with a smile, which he waves off with an “It’s nothing”.

It's going to be an interesting two years.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #where you belong #fem!reader

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[10:14 am]

(cw: pregnant reader, some cussing I think, pregnancy symptoms/discomforts)

You groaned as you continued walking. What would have been a beautiful day for anyone else felt awful for you, nearly 2 weeks overdue. The sun was shining brightly- which was making you hot and sweaty. There was a breeze- which wasn't strong enough to cool you down. The birds were singing- just more noise to piss you off.

"Come on, honey. Keep going, almost back home," Jaehyun smiled at you while his hands gripped your forearm.

You glared at him, fury in your gaze, "you better not be lying to me like the last lap around the block Jung Jaehyun."

Being nearly 2 weeks overdue was a major pain in the- everywhere. You back ached, you couldn't sleep, you felt every movement of the human inside you, you were hot, cranky, tired, swollen everywhere, and sore. You had spent hours bouncing on a yoga ball, eaten spicy food, chugged various teas, ate viral salads, and here you were, going on your- you lost count- walk since your due date. One foot remained on the curb of the sidewalk while the other stepped on the road for uneven steps to "really open your pelvis." Jaehyun was very supportive, maybe even a little too supportive, in helping you during this tough period. It was him that encouraged all this excessive movement! Lovely!

As much as you grumbled about it now, he truly had been such an angel your whole pregnancy. He had painted the nursery 4 times when you couldn't decide on a shade only to end up choosing the first color he had painted! He never complained about waking up to get you your fast food cravings in the middle of the night and even tried your weird combinations.

Finally your familiar front door came into view and you left Jaehyun's hold in favor of making your way back to your favorite spot on the couch. You sighed in relief as you settled into the cushions of the couch, the air conditioning quickly cooling you off.

"More raspberry leaf tea, honey? A date or some pineapple?" Jaehyun asked.

You sighed tiredly, your eyes falling shut. "Can I just get some peace and quiet please?" You asked quietly.

"Do you want a snack for your quiet time?"

You felt yourself getting overwhelmed, hot tears filling your eyes. You breathed deeply, trying to get yourself to calm down, but all you felt was your body temperature rise all over again as your feelings rose. Your breath trembled as you repeated, "Can I please just get some peace and quiet?"

Jaehyun scrambled over to you in a panic, "Honey! What's wrong?!"

You felt your shoulders shake as you cried harder. "I feel terrible! This baby was supposed to be out like 2 weeks ago. I feel like a hippo, I can't do anything by myself. I'm tired of raspberry tea and salads and dates and pineapple. And you always want me to be active and I hate it! It takes a lot of work for me move the way I used to with my center of gravity thrown off and an extra 30 pounds to move. I always feel the baby moving and even when I want to be alone, I'm not! I can't ever have any peace!" You ranted while hot tears streamed down your cheeks, "And every time we go to the doctor she always mentions that this kid has gotten you big ass head- do you have any idea how much damage a head the size of yours will do to my body?!"

Jaehyun looked at you in pure shock. His eyes were wide and lips pursed. "I-I-I don't know what to say." He didn't dare mention that the doctor had mentioned the high likelihood of a c-section.

"Because it's not happening to you! You don't get it and you want me to do everything the way I used to but I can't! And I really, really feel like if you try to touch me in any way for the next 3 days I will hire someone to kick you in the balls since I can't get my legs that high," you add while exhaling shakily, using the backs of your hands to wipe away at your tears.

Jaehyun cleared his throat with a decisive nod, "I'm gonna go shower. I'm closing the windows and turning down the air for you. Then I'm going to draw you a bath with your favorite bubbles. Can I get you anything else before I give you your peace and quiet?"

"I want an iced coffee, please."

Jaehyun opened his mouth to argue- you were supposed to be limiting your caffeine! Then he remembered the rant from a minute ago and decided not to. He disappeared into the kitchen, whipping up your coffee and setting it beside you along with the TV remote.

"Honey?" Jaehyun started almost nervously, "I love you."

You sipped your coffee happily, "I love you too!"

Jaehyun wasn't sure he'd get used to the mood swings that came with you being pregnant, but luckily they wouldn't last that much longer since you went into labor just 5 hours later. This of course brought a whole new wave of you cursing him and screams- but at least at the end of it all he got to welcome your beautiful baby girl.

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun timestamps #jaehyun blurb

[bbydoll18xx]

Pet Names And Airplanes (Part 2)

The aftermath of the airplane ride leaves Paige moaning once more.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Part 2 based on this request: I have a request but it's not fully thought out but all the traveling she's been doing has got me thinking. Basically Paige x friend where there's some tension emotionally and physically but neither of them know it rlly. Paige is groggy bc they had to catch an early flight to go somewhere and while sitting next to each other on the plane, her mind starts wandering and she accidentally says smthg dirty out loud to the reader which obviously leads to a build of tension on their flight that they end up having to deal with. How they deal w it and such can be up to you.

Read Part 1 here :)

Themes: bottom!Paige, SMUT, but also some fluffiness

Word Count: 2.7k

To whoever requested bottom Paige, I hope this is acceptable lol

-------------------------------------------------------

How the hell did you get here?

Your heart is beating furiously, and your head feels fuzzy. You are pulled away from the grounding grips of reality as Paige continues to lick into your mouth with a delicious fervor. It was all-consuming, and you think that you would surrender everything in order to keep Paige’s mouth on yours.

Her lips ghost across yours once more before trailing down to attach to the delicate flesh of your throat. Quiet whines are spilling from your lips, as she alternates between hot, open mouth kisses and sucking, soothing the marks with her tongue. You anticipate the trail of tattoo kisses that would soon adorn your neck, leaving you with undeniable proof of Paige’s affections.

Her hands are wandering now, and your eyes flutter shut at the pure absurdity of the situation. Paige is kissing you. And neither of you were dreaming this time.

Paige’s hands fist at the oversized shirt you had been sleeping in, and her lips find yours once more. As her warm hands find their way onto the soft skin of your abdomen, your phone rings, cutting through the room harshly. Your eyes fly open, meeting Paige’s, and she hesitantly pulls away from you, allowing you to grab your phone that was resting on the nightstand. 

“Fuck, it’s Nika,” you whisper, trying to fix your hair and lopsided shirt. Paige does the same, and she fixes the wrinkled bed sheets quickly.

Sliding the screen to open the FaceTime, you wave to a smiling Nika. 

“Hi guys!” Nika practically yells over the phone. “I can’t wait to see you tonight! How was the flight here?”

Looking at Paige, who turns a delicate shade of pink at the mention of the airplane ride, she mumbles, “The plane was aight. Mostly just slept. Can’t wait to see you, too.”

You nod your head in agreement, avoiding meeting Paige’s gaze on the screen of your phone. The three of you chat a few more minutes, cementing your plans for later in the evening once Nika was out of practice. She soon hung up, leaving you and Paige to stare at each other once more. 

You desperately try to avoid glancing down at her lips, but it was nearly impossible. Her tongue darts out to run across her bottom lip, slightly swollen from the kiss. The action unwittingly causes you to catch your own bottom lip between your teeth, biting down in an attempt to subdue your skepticism. 

“We should definitely do that again,” Paige declares, and your heart nearly stops at her words. You were expecting things to be awkward, worried that your friendship would dissolve into a weird dynamic. 

You laugh, and a pink blush blooms across your cheeks at the boldness of your best friend. A wave of relief washes over your senses, and your rapid pulse slows at the realization that things would be okay between you two. Maybe even better than okay.

“I agree,” you whisper, trying to hide the huge grin that was threatening to give away your casual act. “But let's go sightseeing first.”

Paige, who typically was eager to go out exploring, sighed dramatically before acquiescing as you flashed puppy dog eyes and a not-so subtle pout in her direction. 

She was so whipped.

The two of you spend the afternoon in downtown Seattle. The weather was surprisingly sunny, and as you strolled down the street with an ice cream cone, the sheer domesticity of the day hits you like a fucking truck.

Paige has her free hand in yours, the other holding her own ice cream. You glance up at her, and try to hold back a giggle as her tongue chases a stray drop that is sliding down the cone onto her wrist. It was getting harder to ignore the feelings you had for her, and it threatened to overtake you until you were a withering mess of nothingness. 

You are pulled out of your head, as Paige squeezes your hand. As you look up at her once more, the fond smile adorning her beautiful face makes you realize that you were not necessarily alone in your affections. And it was so comforting. 

~

You and Paige walk through the door of your hotel room, and as it shuts, apprehension fills you up once again. You were alone with Paige. And the idea of kissing her again was fucking with your mind.

You kick off your shoes and sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at Paige to see where her head was at. You’re greeted with bright blue eyes and that ridiculous tongue of hers peeking out of her mouth seductively. It was positively sinful, and it gave you the courage to grab her hand and pull her between your parted legs. She leans down to kiss you slowly. While her earlier kisses had been full of want and lust, this one was pure passion. It was a promise, and as you kiss her back, you let all the unspoken words fall from your mouth into hers. 

Your hands roam to find her waist, and your touch causes Paige to speed up the kiss. Longingness fuels her, and soon enough, your lips are meeting hers with an unbridled urgency that you had never experienced before. Falling backwards onto the bed, Paige’s lips pull away from yours to attach to your neck once more, and through the haziness of your thoughts, you think that maybe she has a certain fascination with it. She trails messy kisses down your throat and adds a few small marks below your ear to the ever growing collection. The thought of them fading away causes a pang in your chest, but somehow you just know that Paige will no longer let you go without the purple marks embellishing your skin. 

Paige pulls away from your neck, making you pout at the loss of contact, and she meets your eyes with a smug smirk. She just knows the effect she has over you. Your panties are fucking soaked, and your pupils are blown wide with lust.

You don’t forget, though, how she was moaning out for you in her sleep this morning. And the thought of this pulls out an equally smug look from you. It was your turn to be in control, and you were going to turn Paige into a whimpering mess. 

You sit up in the bed, and Paige moves with you, a surprised look flitting across her face. Now you both are sitting straight up, legs still entangled and eyes connected in a wordless conversation. 

You make the first move.

Your hand reaches out to cup Paige’s cheek, reconnecting your lips in another bruising kiss. She lets out a groan at the contact, relishing in you taking control. You wish you could spend the rest of your life hearing her little noises on repeat. 

Pushing Paige back once more against the soft pillows of the hotel bed, you position yourself on top of her. Your right knee comes to rest in between her parted legs, and as you press it against the sopping heat of her core, she moans out your name. 

“Fuck, P, you like that?” You purr, secretly exhilarated at her pure, unadulterated neediness. She nods at your question, eyes shut in pleasure as you find a spot right under her ear to suck and bite at. She wasn’t going to get away with silence, and you reach up to loosely wrap a hand around her throat. “Use your words, baby,” you murmur, pressing several small kisses up and down her neck as she gives in.

“Need you, princess,” Paige whines. The words are so unfamiliar to the confident Paige you knew and loved, but the stark want in her voice had you nearly drooling with lust. 

You were going to make her feel so, so good. And that was a promise.

“You’ve got me, Paigey,” you whisper, and your hands find the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She allows you to pull off her pants, lifting her butt up to let you slide them over her hips. As she lays back against the pillows, clad in only a sports bra and boxers, you let your gaze wander over her athletic body. The heat of your stare causes Paige to writhe impatiently, desperate to feel some pleasure. 

“My pretty girl,” you breathe, sliding a hand down the side of Paige’s ribcage, admiring the pale flesh of her toned stomach. You lean down and press open mouth kisses up and down her abdomen before taking off her bra. You admire her again and attach your mouth to a nipple, eliciting another whine from Paige. The sound inflates your ego, and you bring a hand up to pinch the other one. 

“More,” she chokes out brokenly, and you were not going to deny the blonde. You were going to give her everything until she was begging you to stop. 

Satisfied with the marks you leave scattered across her chest, you move down to the waistband of her boxers. Your breath fans over Paige’s belly button, and hers hitches in the anticipation. Looking up at her, trying to gauge her reaction, you see her eyes screwed shut in concentration. 

“Open those pretty eyes for me, baby,” you request gently, and your heart lurches once she complies. Her clear, blue eyes flutter open, revealing her neediness in blown pupils and a darkness that you’ve never seen before. 

She had never looked so beautiful. 

You pull down Paige’s boxers, throwing them onto the floor. The cool air of the room hits her sopping center, and Paige lets out a gasp. You wanted to immediately dive in, but you knew it would be more fun to tease. Pressing hot, open mouth kisses all over her hips and down to her inner thighs, you revel in the moans pouring from Paige’s mouth. 

She is now just short of begging. 

“Please, princess. Need more. Touch me.”  

Getting drunk off of her desperation, you swallow your own instincts to just give in to her and fuck her senselessly. But you weren't going to give in that easily.

“Gotta tell me where you wanna be touched, pretty girl. Just gotta tell me, and I’ll take such good care of you.” Your words are husky, now, darkening your typical giggly disposition, and Paige secretly savors the dominance pouring out of you.

Another kiss to her inner thigh pulls another whine out of Paige, and she’s bucking her hips up in an attempt to feel a shred of pressure against her pulsating clit. 

“Please, baby…please. N-need you to touch my…pussy.” 

Fucking finally. 

For a moment you thought Paige’s stubbornness would prevail, but it seems that her overwhelming neediness was hijacking her typical need for control.

You take a second to savor it. Paige Bueckers was spread out in front of you at your every whim, and you were going to enjoy this. 

Two fingers ghost across her inner thigh and come to rest at her dripping hole. You gather her wetness, swirling it around her folds and up to her clit. 

A long groan falls out of Paige’s mouth as you finally touch her, followed by several expletives when you replace your fingers for your hot, wet tongue. You had been dying to taste her all day, and your patience was rewarded as you licked a fat stripe from the weeping hole of her pussy up to flick across her clit with a maddening pace. 

With no intent on stopping, or even slowing down, you push in two fingers, and the sudden entry causes Paige’s moans to grow even louder. Torn between wanting the whole world to hear just how good you were making her feel and wanting to keep her all to yourself, you whisper “Gotta be a little quieter for me, baby. Can you be a good girl?”

The last thing you needed was unnecessary attention distracting you from making Paige cum like she never has before.

A quieter whimper leaves Paige’s throat, satisfying you, and you reward her with a third finger, curling them all up to the spongy flesh that holds all the pleasure. 

Paige is humping against your hand now, moaning out, “Feels so good, princess, oh my…god.” Her noises are nothing short of pornographic, and you feel your own wetness slide down your inner thighs.

“Tell me who’s making you feel this good, Paigey,” you grit out, intoxicated from her essence and needing the extra validation to push you over the edge.

Paige moans out your name, and your head soars. You had spent many nights dreaming of scenarios just like this, but nothing compared to having her wrapped around your finger, as she was now. 

Quite literally. 

Continuing your brutal assault on her g-spot and eating her out as if she was the last meal left on earth, you feel Paige’s pussy start to clench around you. 

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” You urge, and she lets out a strangled whine. “Let go, cum for me, P.”

And she does. The sound was heavenly as your name leaves her lips over and over again, like it was a prayer. She throws an arm across her face, as if the release was just too much, and you revel in your abilities. No one else made Paige feel like this but you. 

Giving the blonde a few moments to ride out her high, you slow down, letting the orgasm wash over her. Paige’s chest rises and falls, giving way to labored breaths, and once her legs stop twitching from the sheer pleasure of it all, you crawl up to meet her in a slow kiss. 

It’s different than earlier. The passion is still there, but there is no longer something to prove, and the two of you bask in the glow of a friendship that had developed into something more.

“That was fuckin’ incredible,” Paige murmurs, voice raspy now, and you grin at her praises. 

“What can I say? I’m pretty great,” you gloat, feeling like you had an orgasm yourself.

~

Nika is due to arrive at your hotel any second now, and you finish the final touch ups of your makeup. Paige is behind you, staring at you through the mirror with a fond look on her face that has your stomach erupting in butterflies. 

Paige spins you around and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering, “Look at my pretty princess. I can’t wait to fuck you tonight.” A blush engulfs your face at the thought, and it takes an impressive amount of restraint to avoid pushing her up against the wall and attaching your lips to hers.

A loud knock sounds through the hotel room, pulling the two of you away from your affections. Nika’s smiling face appears as you open the door, and she pulls you into a huge hug. 

“Oh my god. I missed you so much,” she mumbles into your neck. You giggle, repeating her words, as the two of you rock back and forth in a friendly embrace. 

Nika pulls away and steps behind you, jumping onto Paige, yelling in Paige’s ear about how she had ‘missed her twin.’ Paige lets out an affectionate chuckle, telling Nika that she had missed her, too. 

Once the hugging was over, Nika stands in front of you and Paige with a smirk on her face. “So what have you two been up to today?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes. 

You feel her gaze roam over the hickey peeking out under the collar of your shirt, and your cheeks heat up. 

Paige runs a hand across her face, trying to avoid looking guilty, and Nika gives her a knowing look. 

“About damn time, honestly you two.” 

And there was no point in even trying to deny it anymore. 

~

this was a lil too much fun to write. hope you beautiful people enjoyed it

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x you #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #friends to lovers #fluff #smut #wlw smut

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for suggesting my girlfriend eats less?

(🫠 so i can find it later)

I know immediately it sounds insane but please I need advice. Also sorry it’s so long this is a sensitive topic and I want to treat it as such.

So my (24F) girlfriend (22F) has been trying to lose weight for about 9 months now. I let her offer up what info she wants but never ask because I don’t want to add pressure, and i’ve struggled with an ED and witnessed as my mom has struggled with her weight since I was born so I understand how hard it can be. But my girlfriend is as gorgeous as ever. And I know she’s been as active as possible so Idk why she’s so hard on herself.

My mom eats healthier than anyone I’ve ever known. When I was younger I watched her go through phases with taking on some weird diet that never really worked. She once told me she recognized her real problem is stopping when she’s “full” and not what she eats. She was insecure about that fact because she almost starved as a teenager. I tried to encourage her to accept her body if eating what she wants makes her happy. But she always says she isn’t happy when she’s not eating & only would be if she felt “sexy” again.

I’m starting to see a similar struggle in my love. She asked to go to the gym together, so I bought us a gym membership. We try to get there 3x a week for at least an hour each time. But she’s in her final semester before graduating so we stopped going as much about a month or two ago. She keeps talking about losing weight so her graduation dresses will fit better but I think they fit perfect. I zipped them myself. She never wears dresses or skirts, favoring baggy clothing and streetwear, so I think she’s just not used to the sensation of a form-fitting dress.

She joined a coed soccer team that would meet weekly for a month. I went to her games, she goes hard. She’s also started going for runs twice a week after work with a coworker. They did 3 miles one day! That’s still 3 days a week she’s been working out, plus the occasional day or two every other week we manage to get out to the gym.

She has taken to blaming me for us not going to the gym, not directly but will whine at me with a pointed tone, as if begging me to go to the gym after she told me we couldn’t go. I try to ignore it since I know she’s having a hard time and mostly venting. But if I agree and offer to drive us, she always has too much homework. Even if she’s been sitting on tiktok for an hour.

I do all the cooking for us. After she complained about not making progress I started serving us both smaller portions. Now she gets seconds after meals and will complain about being snackish or wanting a sweet treat less than 30 minutes after we’ve ate. If I stand firm on no treats (which is rare), she pouts. She refuses to get a treat without me, if I tell her she can go get one if she wants she won’t. If I give in, then later I feel guilty like I enabled her. And she’ll guilt trip me for it too. And then she’s unhappy about not losing any weight again and the cycle continues.

She’s got a broad build and a naturally curvy body. When she talks about being her ideal size/shape again, it’s always in photos of her at 14-17. I keep trying to instill in her that she can get muscular and fit but still might not look like that again because she was a child. She dismisses me every time and will compare her body to mine since we’re the same height, but I have different genetics and an overactive metabolism.

She’s active, healthy, muscular, and is maybe 30 lbs over the BMI for her height and age. I don’t believe in the BMI, just stating for reference reasons. Some of that “overweight” is definitely likely muscle since she said she gained weight after we first started going to the gym. She would not believe me when I said you gain muscle before you lose fat, even though she’s learned this in her major. In my eyes to have the kind of toning that she wants— and that athletes her shape have— she probably only needs to lose like 10-15 lbs. You can see the line of musculature on her thighs as she is. She eats way healthier than most college students because she’s a medical major and really cares about body health. I think a lot of her desire to lose weight comes from the athleticism of the PT’s she works with.

She continues to nitpick at her other behaviors (i.e. having a yasso icecream twice a week) that are far less “harmful” to her goals than overeating. But I fear it will cause a rift in our relationship if I try to suggest that to her.

I want to help her on her journey and the way she blames me makes me feel like I need to do more to help, but the only thing I can think to suggest is something I would never recommend on my own, let alone to my girlfriend who I think is beautiful as is. I don’t want her to think by me suggesting smaller portions that I have a problem with her perceived lack of progress. I only have a problem with being treated like it’s my fault she isn’t losing weight. When I tell her she looks amazing as she is she just tells me I’m biased because I love her.

I don’t feel it’s my place but Idk what else to do. So WIBTA if I told her that she should try to eat smaller portions rather than dieting since she’s already physically active and eats healthy?

#aita #am i the asshole #eating disorder cw

[drdemonprince]

this will sound like one of those "let men be masculine" level niche internet community brained posts, but i honestly really was embarrassed of how much i like drag for a while. in the circles that i run in, liking drag too much is seen as pretty cringey and for wealthy cis gays. like everybody knows a few cool avante garde local performers that they fuck with who run queer dance parties that are inclusive and the like, but very few people that i know will just go to a drag show at an entertainment or social engagement for their own sake. it's almost seen as a tourist thing, a normie gay thing.

but its one of the few spaces where i can actually recognize a lot of feminine men and nonbinary man-thing-girly-freaks like of the particular type that i am. leather bars are so masc and buff and im often invisible. bear bars are really nice and i do feel welcome there! but people are only feminine in their mannerisms, not presentation very often. the more explicitly gender inclusive trans/queer spaces cater to more of a wlw and adjacent crowd whose relationships to masculinity and femininity are different from mine. circuit gay bars are obviously terrible.

drag is nice. there's guys with weird little haircuts and long earrings who aren't buff and are swishy and dress interestingly but are a little uncomfortable as their regular selves and have to don alternate personas in order to be outgoing. and i even like that it's okay to be bitchy and insulting sometimes in drag world, like sometimes that is just your genuine feedback on the work someone has done and it's not the end of the world. there's lot of open conflict in the drag world that actually works out pretty alright.

it's a local nightlife scene like all the rest, its got its theater kid bullshit and egos and superficiality out the ass and so many people are trying to be famous or make money, but even to this day i forget that i can just be a really weird feminine guy until i'm around some of them and watching them prance about. i worry about how i look or am being read and then even just watching a fucking drag race episode i'll see like 9 different guys who are so fucking androgynous with their weird assymetrical self cut haircuts that they pass less than i do and they're cis men. they have bodies or faces like i do. and in the local scene it's obviously even better because you're looking at real life people. maybe i should be over it by now but im not, i need to see weird little awkward feminine guys with funny outfits playing dress up and crying and fighting with one another because they never got over their last picked in gym class baggage. its meeee i relateee. i even like that its a little toxic! we've got some issues out here, let's joke with them and make a character of them instead of pretending to be nice!!

i tend to be pretty skeptical of "representation matters!" type shit but part of that is probably because i never really feel represented. i know, boo hoo, thin white man doesnt feel depicted on screen, sounds very silly. but then i see kade gottmik on drag race and i swell with emotion and suddenly feel like who i am is POSSIBLE in this world and i realize that even with all my privileges i am starved for representation and that it does benefit you to have it. theres trans guys on screen but thats not close enough to ping that ooh!!! ahh!!! i can love myself!! radar for me. it has to be a very particular kinda person. matt bernstein makes me feel similarly

[felinefractious]

I tried to adopt a cat from a rescue, I really did. I filled out and submitted applications to 5 different rescues because the local SPCAs didn't have cats that fit my needs (social with cats and dogs, approximately 1 year old, high energy, and preferably long or medium haired).

I explained in detail the care I give my current cupcake. She's spayed, gets routine vet care, is up to date on shots. She has her own room (my room) which is set up with shelves, trees, 2 litter boxes. She gets supervised free roam of the house (not 24/7 because of lifestyle reasons). I use puzzle feeders for her meals- high end brands like The Honest Kitchen, Open Farm, Stella and Chewy (I like to mix it up to keep it interesting). I play with her at least twice a day, or whenever she asks. Indoors only. She has a water fountain. We're working on harness training. I made it clear I had a second room set up similarly and ready to go, and carefully researched introductions. Dogs are cat social and kenneled unless supervised. I don't know, I feel like my cat lives a good life. She's happy, fit, and I adore her.

Couple of weeks past and I received 5 rejection emails with reasons such: I maintain a very small flock of exhibition poultry, that I do breed and sell the chicks of seasonally, which is...immoral to them, I guess; my brother who does live in the same household has intact show and working dogs; the dogs are kenneled (what??); I don't work full-time; one even said it was because I feed my current cat dry food instead of wet food. My cat straight up won't eat wet food! She hates it! I replied and said I would offer wet food if the new cat wanted it, and they never responded.

It all just seemed like weird reasons to me. Maybe not, I don't know if that's just how rescues are. I ended up with my cat through the pregnant cat distribution system (my mom owns her mom) so I didn't have to deal with takes on cat care I didn't get.

Dejected, I started looking on Craigslist and saw a cat that perfectly fit my needs- a sphynx outcross project that tested positive for mild HCM (asymptomatic for now) so the breeder who purchased him immediately neutered him. So I asked about him, located a cardiologist and scheduled an appointment with my vet ahead of time to get a referral to the cardiologist. Did lots of reading on HCM. Met with them and they were lovely. Got all his paperwork with his health testing and his whole history and genetics. I fell in love with him immediately. Everything they said about him has been true: he's confident, well-mannered, has the exact same play style as my kitty. There was not a single point during the 4 hour drive home that he showed signs of stress, he took treats and just lounged. When I set him in his room, he waltzed right out of his carrier with his chest puffed out, head held high, and rubbed all over me, purring and bumping his head into me. There hasn't been an adjustment period, he just came out and was like, "sweet, new digs! now, pet me!" Settled into a routine so fast. Has been perfect for his nails and bathing him. We're already making tremendous progress with recall.

This cat is so fucking well socialized. And his structure? Fucking gorgeous. Exactly as sphynx are described, with a deep chest, solid belly, longer hind legs than front, long creepy fingers which he uses to grip me instead of his claws and it feels like a human infant gripping me (deeply unsettling).

It's been such a good experience, and the rescues were so weird, I honestly don't know if I can ever get a cat that wasn't selectively bred again. He's not even pure bred! His dad is 100% sphynx but his mom is a dominant blue eye project from approved sphynx outcrosses.

Don't get me wrong, I love my first bastard kitty, she's the best cat there is. But now I have two perfect cats! I didn't realize that was possible...all my friends' cats, they're often much more nervous and shy. I was prepared for my second kitty to just never live up to my first.

Here he is, my weird coated mostly sphynx:

Bonus DNA results

I wonder what that person bit is about.

Unfortunately your story is not unique.

These excessive and unrealistic standards are part of what I mean when I discuss barriers to adoption as being one of the actual issues contributing to overpopulation of homeless pets.

I’ve seen people discuss being rejected due to their age despite being staffed in the veterinary field, the person was in their early 20’s.

I’ve seen people discuss being rejected due to having intact animals in the household despite them being species that aren’t traditionally altered, like reptiles.

A rescue I knew would avoid adopting out to people who indicated they would feed a brand of food the rescue considered to be lower quality, such as Friskies canned.

I’ve spoken to rescues for a veterinary reference who were disappointed the prospective adopters most recent cat wasn’t current on their vaccinations despite being an 18+ hospice case.

I could go on and on and on.

I’m glad you were finally able to find a cat to give a good forever home to, it’s clear that you’re passionate about your animals and knowledgeable about their care.

I would put too much stock in the 12% Persian, you can’t test for breeds in cats the same way as you can in dogs. Wisdom Panel is great for health and trait testing but nonsense for breeds.

You can really see the Devon in his face in the picture you used for the test, though!

#lostinthelegs #asks #adoptshop tag

[mazzyfawn]

im a multishipper. i ship buddie and bucktommy. but if im being honest one side is being incredibly more hateful and toxic than the other side. (aka the one thats been around longer) maybe i’ve taken off my rose-colored shipping glasses, but seeing ppl make hate posts abt tommy/lou gives me the ick. it makes me actually realize why oliver left twt. bitterness will get you nowhere. if buddie is meant to happen then it’ll happen. you cannot force it to happen. everything i’ve seen and read tells me buddie was more of a consideration pre-s5 than it is currently. and that fucking sucks but just because things aren’t going your way doesn’t mean you need to get on the internet and be a bully. it’s truly mind-boggling to see people so intense in their hate for a character that has righted his wrongs, who is now friends with the people he wronged, is well-liked among said characters and is now being a positive influence on buck’s newfound sexuality. their dynamic is also nothing new, pessimist/optimist ship dynamics have been around forever and it’s only a problem because it’s not eddie.

i would be happy for buddie to go canon as much as the next guy. getting buck canonically bisexual is mind-blowing enough in itself, i’m glad we’re witnessing it at all. if ryan doesn’t want to do buddie because he feels its important they stay friends then so be it. platonic friendships between a queer man and straight man are important, especially one that runs so deep like buck and eddie’s. sure, their friendship could be read as romantic throughout the show, but partly because oliver and ryan truly share a great chemistry on screen which helps lean into it but also because these shows are not written with an endgame in mind. 9-1-1 is very much a go with the flow show, and if bucktommy is where the show is flowing then that’s what is meant to be. invisible string theory isn’t because ppl think it was always planned from the beginning, it’s because it’s amazing how well buck and tommy becoming a couple comes together so perfectly out of pure coincidence.

we know buck was supposed to be made queer long ago. we also know maddie originally was brought in for eddie but was put with chimney instead. if tim minear hadn’t left after s4 i truly think buddie could have been already established by now, but unfortunately that isn’t how things work. perhaps the idea of tommy and eddie was pitched but ultimately ryan didn’t agree it would work for these character nor the story being told at the time. buck was already supposed to be queer, so turning it to tommy and buck instead makes total sense.

no one is saying you aren’t allowed to continue to ship buddie. most ships in the world are ships that have never gone canon. buddie is valid even if it’s non-canon. god knows i will continue to read and write for them and enjoy them whilst also enjoying buck and tommy together. the behavior i’ve been seeing though is just weird, especially from larger creators who i understand are very passionate for buddie, but it’s weird when you flip it into tommy/lou hate instead of just talking about buddie itself.

perhaps the theories will be true. we don’t know! maybe buck and tommy won’t last and buddie will be endgame. i’m happy either way because buck’s sexuality is so important for him and at the current state of the show eddie is absolutely not ready for anything romantic because he’s still grieving shannon to a point where he is not ready to move on romantically just yet and we’re literally shown this. even if buddie is happening, it is not happening by the season finale nor is it probably happening by the beginning of s8 considering the current storylines and where they’ll be at by the end of this season. lou probably isn’t going anywhere and from the looks of it, we’ll probably be bumped up into a semi-regular character in s8 like karen. he’s easy to write into the plot, he’s got connections to people and emergencies outside of buck that would integrate him well into the plot. their romance is supposed to be “romcom” esque, they’re taking things slow but they’re obviously happy together at the moment.

im just really tired of the nasty attitudes ive been seeing. sure theres are som toxic people on both sides, but to me its obvious which side is being the bigger bully. reality checks needs to be put in place for some people, go outside and realize you are getting way too worked up over a tv show where plotlines are out of your control. if the show is ruined for you over one relationship then stop watching it.

#911 abc #bucktommy #buddie #venting #maybe some will read it and actually reflect on themselves

[magicmanii]

yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyooyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyooyoyoyoyo

can i pretty please request a rin x gn reader where rin is hopelessly down bad for them? (like he runs to pay for anything they want and gets grumpy/petty if reader insists/pays or runs to open doors for them and is honestly just all around pathetically in love)

BEACHY LOVE

🌺 It's been… like 7 months since my best friend has requested this.. I hope you enjoy…

🌺 It might be a little ooc Rin? Disgustingly in love Rin!!! Rin is a cutie patootie in this!!! Isagi is a little freaked out.. Also I haven't read bllk in a minute so I'm going off of what I know.. THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

🌺GN READER‼️‼️‼️

🌺 WORD COUNT: 1,204

Isagi has seen a lot of weird stuff since he's become a famous soccer player.

He's seen fans flash their favorite players in a weird attempt to get their attention, he's seen opponents lose their shit after losing a match, he's even seen his own teammates get weird while playing a game. He can't really say anything about that though…

But what he's never seen before; in his seventeen years of life, is Rin Itoshi, one of the best soccer players in Japan (and also notably one of the most cold and standoffish) rubbing sunscreen into someone else's back.

I mean— helping someone with something without glaring at them or complaining!?

A shiver ran up Isagi's spine.

This couldn't be Rin. This had to be an imposter.

Rin would never willingly do something for someone unless—

Another shiver ran up Isagi's spine. A mysterious apple also fell on his head.

Unless… they were his partner!

Wait. No, he's getting too ahead of himself. Rin, Mr— “I have a stick shoved up my ass constantly” would never be able to pull someone! Especially someone so beautiful!

But then that brought him back to his original question. If this wasn't his partner, who was it!?

Before isagi could question Rin's and this mysterious person's relationship anymore, a monotonous voice broke him out of his stupor.

“Hey, NPC, can you move? You're standing right in front of the door.” said soccer player grumbled out while glaring daggers down at the now sweating Isagi.

“Oh! —” Isagi quickly moved out of the way of the entrance to the shaved ice hut. “Sorry.”

Rin walked in without even sparing isagi another word or glance, clearly focusing more on his task than his rival.

Now that Rin was closer, Isagi could get a look at his attire. And let me tell you. Isagi could feel himself getting traumatized again.

I mean— how couldn't he!? Rin was wearing neon blue swim trunks with flamingos and palm trees on it while also wearing a pair of pineapple sunglasses!

Who was this!?

“Do you have a staring problem, NPC?” Rin coldly asked when he felt Isagi's burning gaze on his back.

“What are you wearing?” Isagi boldly snapped back, not caring if he got a death glare because of it.

“swim trunks.”

“Wha— no kidding! I could tell that much! But why are you wearing ones with flamingo print on them!? And what's with the sunglasses!?” He questioned while pointing at the offending male.

Slowly, Very slowly, maybe it was intentional on how slow he was turning; Rin turned around to face Isagi, his expression far from a welcoming one.

In actuality, if looks could kill, Isagi would be, not 6ft, but 30ft underground!

“if you have such a problem with what I'm wearing maybe you should pluck your eyeballs out.” he spat out before turning back around and grabbing two snow cones from the smiling cashier.

“You should learn how to mind your business, NPC.” was the final thing Rin said to isagi, the pro soccer player shoving his way past the shorter and stomping his way out the hut.

It wouldn't take long before Rin would make it to his partner again. His partner in question looking up at their boyfriend with a questioning gaze.

“Rinnie? What's with the face?” They questioned while reaching out for the snow cone they requested, saying a small “Thank you” as they watched the other sit down on the ground like a pouting child.

“I ran into isagi.” He simply said, his blue eyes staring daggers into the poor snow cone in his grasp.

“So?” Y/N shrugged, looking at Rin with a questionable gaze.

“He had a problem with what I was wearing.”

“So what'd you say?”

“I told him he could pull his eyeballs out if he hated my outfit that much.”

“Aww Rinnie! You like the outfit I picked out for you that much!?” Y/N cooed while lovingly pinching their boyfriend's cheek.

Rin let out a soft grunt but didn't push Y/N away.

“You know, if you like the outfits I pick out for you that much, you should let me pick out all your outfits!” Y/N offered with a cheeky smile

Rin looked at his partner for a moment, his eyes softly gazing at their features: their bright eyes, their pretty smile, their soft hair..

Rin looked away from them with another grunt.

“No way.” He quietly said, a soft, almost unnoticeable blush on his face.

“What!? Why not!?” Y/N whined, a childish pout on their face.

“Because I said so.”

“That's not an answer!” Y/N grumbled

“Why not?” Rin teased while sticking his tongue out

“Because I said so!” They spat back with their tongue now out as well

“You're a child.” The soccer player scoffed, a small fond smile on his face at the sight of Y/N's pouting face.

This earned Rin a gentle punch from Y/N.

“You can go kiss my ass!” Y/N exclaimed before turning around and shoving a spoonful of shaved ice into their mouth.

It was quiet for a moment. All anyone would be able to hear would be the soft lapping of the ocean softly caressing the land before retreating once more, the sound of seagulls squawking away, and the gentle sound of wind brushing through the leaves of the trees.

“You know,” Rin started, successfully catching Y/N's attention.

“I have a gala coming up. You can uh..” He hesitated, a harsh blush growing on his face once more. “You can choose an outfit out for me.” he softly said.

At this, Y/N leaned in impossibly closer, their hand cupping the back of their ear as they let out an obnoxious “What was that?”. If it could, their ear would grow comically large as they waited for Rin to repeat himself.

Cursing under his breath, Rin let out a tired sigh before repeating himself.

“I said—” he started only to get cut off by Y/N grabbing his face.

“That I could pick out any outfit for you to wear to a gala!?” Y/N basically screamed in excitement, a smile running from ear to ear as they inched their face closer and closer to Rin's.

If it wasn't for the fact that his partner just ruptured his ear drums, he would've found their closeness extremely flustering.

But despite his lost hearing, he couldn't help but admire their features.

‘Damn them and their cute face…’ he silently cursed to himself.

Pushing Y/N away gently, Rin crossed his arms and averted his gaze.

“you're too loud.” He scolded, but his scolding landed on deaf ears seeing as Y/N was too busy celebrating their victory.

‘They're such a pain…’ Rin lovingly thought to himself while watching them celebrate.

#x gn reader #x reader #blue lock x gn reader #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x gn reader #rin itoshi x you #rin x reader #rin x you

[interstellarlyinlove]

Established Relationship (May 20th)

word count: 683

@wolfstarmicrofic

“What do you mean? What’s there not to like about summer?” Sirius asks, looking at Remus from above the book he’s reading. The book the both of them are reading, actually, except Remus is a quicker reader so now he has to wait until Sirius finishes to be able to talk to him about it. 

“The stickiness of it all,” Remus says, resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder and closing his eyes. They’re sitting under their favorite tree near the Black Lake and today is their last day in Hogwarts until next September. Sirius is spending the summer with Remus and his family. 

“When else am I going to spend my days eating ripe fruit and wearing too-short shorts? Summer is great.”

Remus smiles. “Sure. If you say so. You're burnt for three months straight, though.”

“I would’ve been too powerful if I had the ability to tan and not burn.”

Remus laughs. “Yeah, that does make me feel better about you being unfairly gorgeous. At least you can’t tan.”

“The universe gave me a boyfriend that tans beautifully though, so I’m not complaining.” Sirius looks at Remus. “You’re unfairly gorgeous.”

Remus’ favorite thing in all the universe is Sirius complimenting him. Still, he makes a face. “Gross.”

Sirius closes his book. Remus raises an eyebrow. “You are never going to finish that book, Godric. I swear you have until tomorrow before I spoil it for–”

“What do you want to do?” Sirius asks, kissing Remus’ cheek. 

Remus blinks. “Like, right now? I want to read to you, maybe make out a little bit, you know how it is.”

Sirius laughs Remus’ favorite laugh. “Sure. I mean, I’d love to. I just meant, like, later. Like, next summer.”

“Next summer?”

“There’s no more Hogwarts after next summer.”

“Ah,” Remus says. Next year is their last at Hogwarts. “That’s a little terrifying, isn’t it?”

“A little.”

“I think I’d like to teach,” Remus says, then he flushes. “I mean, if I could. A werewolf teacher sounds pretty horrible, doesn’t it?”

Sirius flicks Remus’ temple. “I hate it when you say things like that. You’d be an amazing teacher. Academia looks too good on you, moonstone.”

Remus might die. Having Sirius believe in him even more than he believes in himself is something that is so dear to his heart. He wants to tell Sirius this but he flicks Sirius’ temple instead. “You’re sweet. You’d be an amazing healer.”

Sirius looks at him funny. “How do you know what I want to do, and I don’t know that about you?”

“I’m a better boyfriend,” Remus says, grinning. “Also, everyone knows everything about you because you are a professional blabbermouth.”

“I am not.” 

“It’s cute.”

“I do not talk a lot,” Sirius says. “I will take a vow of silence right now.”

Remus laughs. “Don’t! Your blabbering is my favorite thing about you.”

“How romantic,” Sirius says. His voice is monotone but Remus knows he’s trying not to laugh.

“I’m excited about living with you. After school”

“You want to live with me?” Sirius asks, and he sounds sincere. 

“No, I don’t, actually,” Remus says, and he flicks Sirius’ temple again because how can he not? “Don’t be stupid. Who else would I live with?”

Sirius’ smile is the sun. “I love that you love me. It’s my favorite thing.”

Remus’ heartstrings tug. “Why do you say things like that? Godric.” He pauses. “You loving me is my favorite thing, too. Whatever.”

“We need to learn how to break into vaults.”

“Sure.”

“I need to steal some of my family’s money. Really. I wasn’t thinking about buying a flat before getting disowned. I should’ve toned it down a little bit. Did you know I officially got disowned on a stupid Tuesday night while making new paper from old scraps of paper? It’s a whole thing where you shred it and then dunk it in water and wet tiny scraps of paper have such a weird texture. Anyway, It came out of nowhere, really. The disowning, not the paper making.”

Remus laughs. “You are such a blabbermouth.”

#I love them together with allllll my heart like how cute they're made for each other <333333333333 #I am a healer!Sirius truther at my core #I forgot to post this on the 20th lol but it's here now :))) #remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #wolfstar drabble #marauders era #my writing

[enokian3310]

hooked on a higher dose

explicit / 3.6k words / ao3

“Dean?” Castiel shifts closer on the couch, eyes stormy and dark. He touches Dean’s leg tentatively, like he's unsure if this is allowed. “You’re okay.” It’s as if he’s looking right through Dean, straight at his charred, twisted up soul and library of issues. And Dean decides to lock that box back up.

“Absolutely,” Dean agrees, and crashes their mouths together.

It feels wrong, being alone in Bobby’s house. Sure, Dean’s spent enough time there over the years to not feel like a guest, but he’s still on high alert. Like Bobby’s gonna turn the corner any moment now and chew Dean out for putting his shoes on the table. 

He begrudgingly repositions himself with his feet back on the floor, sinking deeper back into the shapeless, sunken cushions. 

The owner of the house is state over hunting down some book he didn’t have, for a lead on something — anything — that could help them shove Lucifer back in his cage. It’s not like the angels have been particularly charitable with their Apocalypse knowledge, and “read the Bible” got old real fast. Dean’s read the goddamn Bible. He knows how it ends, how the world as they know it ends. They’re after a different ending. And it would be great if the ghost population of the Midwest could understand that, and calm their tits and not make him fight ghouls on top of every fucking thing else with Castiel as his only backup. 

(He hasn’t seen Sam in days. Last text came this morning, three little words taunting him from the screen. Look, don’t worry. And good people were dying in an undeserving neighborhood and Dean had to save them because no one else would. Or could.) 

He helps himself to Bobby’s liquor stash and has a brief flash of feeling like he’s a kid raiding his parent’s cabinets while they’re out of town, but then he shakes his head. He’s not a fucking kid. Bobby’s not his dad. And besides, he needs this. His hands are still trembling and his heart still races, there's really only one cure for that.

Castiel chooses that exact moment to flutter into existence, scanning the room until he finds Dean. He’s tough to read even in broad daylight, and right here and now in the shadowy living room he could be mistaken for a mannequin, that’s how perfectly unmoving he is. Staring at Dean, following his every movement.

If you asked Dean, the angel looks a little tired.

“Look who finally decided to show up. Want a drink?” he asks, offering Castiel the bottle because he doesn’t have the energy to get glasses from the kitchen. The angel shakes his head, and Dean sinks back down in the ratty, familiar couch, pouring whiskey down hist throat. Fuck. The hunt earlier tonight had been too close of a call. Stuff doesn’t shake him anymore, but this… yeah, he’s still a bit rattled. 

“What is it like?” Castiel asks, like he’s trying to make conversation. That is, if possible, even more bizarre than spending the night alone in Bobby’s home. 

Only… he’s not alone.

“What, this?” Dean stops to take a look at the bottle in his hand. “Uh.” 

His dad drank to forget, but Dean doesn’t need to forget, he just needs to come down. Drinking washes away the remnants of adrenaline and pure, unadulterated fear that’s still echoing through his system and caging his heart. The familiarity of it calms him, like coffee in the morning and his little brother in the passenger seat. He survives, and he drinks. It’s just how it is. Castiel couldn’t understand; fucker’s probably never been scared of anything. And what does he have to fear, anyway? When he died, he had God looking out for him, putting him back together and placing him right back on the chessboard. And really, why should Dean worry? Dear old Michael would probably do the same for him. He puts the cold rim to his lips again. Maybe he would like to forget, after all. Just for one goddamn evening. “My prize for getting through the day,” he says. “C’mon, you’re weirding me out. If you’re gonna hang out, at least get comfortable.” Dean pats the cushion next to him and Castiel obediently walks over and sits down. Dean thinks his hands might be trembling so he clutches the bottle harder to keep it from showing. “Why do you ask?” 

Castiel gives him an inquisitive look. 

“You’re using it to self-medicate.” 

Dean rolls his eyes hard. 

“Who are you, my fucking doctor?” 

Castiel frowns. The only source of light is coming from the kitchen, softly illuminating his silhouette. Jimmy Novak was a good-looking man , Dean thinks, not for the first time. Really, it’s — jarring. Straight nose, full lips. Eyes you could get lost in, if you had a poetic bone in your body. Dean can’t think like that — he just can’t. But then that attractive face turns to look at Dean again and always – always so fucking close, it’s not like he stands a chance here. And whatever his life is, a gospel orchestrated by the God Squad or whoever’s in charge of the universe, whichever prophet wrote the fucking Bible, he knows for a fact it wasn’t supposed to be this . Him, and this angel, over and over again. 

“Do you need a doctor?” He sounds concerned for Dean, eyes searching Dean’s face and Dean has to close his eyes because he can’t take it. All that misplaced tenderness that Dean isn’t worthy of. Having his eyes shut makes it easier to say the next things, too.

“No. Just you.” 

Even a whisper feels too loud in this empty house. And Dean’s still scared of being found out and he’s not sure what would be worse; facing God after what he did to one of his soldiers, or facing Bobby and Sam – not that he thinks they care where he sticks his dick (or the fact that he lets guys stick theirs in him), but because then they’d know . That his dad was right all along, that he’s a fucking sissy. That he can’t get anything right in this godforsaken life. That he came back from hell wrong. 

“Dean?” Castiel shifts closer on the couch, eyes stormy and dark. He touches Dean’s leg tentatively, like he's unsure if it's allowed. “You’re okay.” It’s as if he’s looking right through Dean, straight at his charred, twisted up soul and library of issues. And Dean decides to lock that box back up. 

“Absolutely,” Dean agrees, and crashes their mouths together. It’s not romantic, but it doesn’t need to be. Castiel’s big hands are circling his face and they’re warmer than they have any right to be, and his mouth is wet and impatient and he’s kissing Dean like his life depends on it now that Dean's given him permission. He shudders as Castiel attempts to get even closer by swinging a knee over Dean’s lap and sitting down on top of him, escalating at a pace that can only be attributed to him still being endearingly new to all of this. Dean still gasps, trying to adjust to the turn of events, hands coming up to rest awkwardly at the angel's hips. Is this what he hoped for when he insisted Castiel stopped by later?

Maybe. 

Dean is learning what Castiel likes, and it’s a thrill like nothing else to feel Castiel get all worked up under his hands and mouth. Castiel has a body, perhaps for the first time in his existence, and he loves to be touched. He’s got one hand on Dean’s shoulder, right there , bracing himself, and he uses the other one to cup Dean’s neck, holding him in place so Castiel can kiss him deeper, but Dean’s giving as good as he gets. Using the angel in his lap as an outlet for all his pent-up frustration and residual fear. He’s heavy and solid and very close and Dean’s dick is finding all of this extremely interesting. He’s tugging at Castiel’s hair, running his fingers through it, kissing him frantically. And it’s difficult to be scared when his body’s focusing on the thrill of making out with a freaking angel , one who - despite his clumsiness and experimentation - makes Dean feel so good inside and out he can temporarily forget the fact that his body was only really brought back to ultimately be used and abused by someone else.

It’s not like they’ve made a habit out of doing this, but it’s happened a handful of times. Castiel had been a virgin, for Christ’s sake. The world is ending, in the literal sense. Any night could be their last, and kicking the bucket without knowing what it’s like to come when it’s someone else’s doing… That was just Dean being a good friend. And they tried with the brothel, but when that didn’t pan out, Dean figured he might as well do it himself. Get Castiel off, no strings attached, a quick jerking off in the back of the Impala. A favor for a friend. Then Castiel had returned the favor, and it’d been the best damn thing he’d felt since he crawled out of his own grave, all those months ago. Because it had been Cas. Not some random one night stand. Someone who actually gave a shit about him. 

Fast forward a couple of months and Castiel’s hand is worming its way between their bodies to cup Dean’s crotch, making a satisfied sound when he feels the effect he's having on Dean.

“Can we...? I need you to...” Dean mumbles, face hot, hardly able to look Castiel in the face as they grind against each other, wearing far too many layers. It comes out choked, desperate. They’ve only gone all the way like that once, but that’s a particular scene that’s been featuring a lot in his dreams lately. The heat and weight of Castiel when he thrusted inside Dean, who bit down on the pillow just for something to do with his mouth. He can still taste the low thread count cotton on his tongue. Remembers how excruciatingly good it felt to be so close, skin to skin with someone who would go to hell for him and bring him pleasure worthy of heaven. He doesn’t deserve any of this. They shouldn’t be doing this.

“Yes,” Castiel says breathlessly. “Yes.” He’s hard too, not-so-subtly grinding down on Dean’s crotch, and Dean wants more of that pleasure. Wants to feel something that isn’t pain and fear. Anything, really. 

“Upstairs, then,” Dean sighs at a particularly inspiring thrust. When Castiel makes no move to get off him, he puts one hand on each of his shoulders and pushes. “Upstairs, come on.” He’s not doing this in the goddamn living room. He would never be able to look Bobby in the eyes again if he did.

Castiel looks as debauched as Dean feels; hair messed up from Dean’s restless hands, erection tenting his slacks, a pink flush rising from his collarbones to his cheeks making his eyes look impossibly brighter. And still wearing too many damn layers of clothes. God, it’s all he can think about. Cas, Cas, Cas, the way he tastes, the way he feels, the way he looks at Dean. Lube is also there in the back of his mind. They’re gonna need lube. Lucky for them, Dean is a hopeless horny idiot who never goes anywhere without it these days. You never know when the angel’s gonna come knocking. Should be right there in his duffel bag.

He wonders if Castiel would like it as much, to be on the receiving end. If he’s up to it, if they ever get the chance, Dean — shit, he would love to try. Would love to see what kind of noises Castiel would make when he’s the one being fucked. Dean’s cock is straining his jeans uncomfortably, heavy, dampening his boxers, fabric clinging to the sensitive skin. He pulls Castiel with him toward the stairs, and Castiel keeps close, not touching but close. Dean can’t help the smirk as he pulls Castiel inside the guest room where Dean’s stuff is. There’s a narrow bed in one corner, in which Dean’s spent many hours in the past week staring at the ceiling and wishing desperately for sleep to come and knock him out. He starts to pull off Castiel’s coat, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. His hands still tremble, but he's pretty sure it's not out of fear anymore. The room would be dark if it wasn’t for the moonlight leaving just enough light to make out features and silhouettes and Dean feels his way around his chest, nails scratching gently, gently down Castiel’s sides until Dean can feel goosebumps rise in his skin. Leaning in to kiss his collarbones, then his nipples, barely able to help himself, brain blissfully empty apart from the slew of Cas and please. Castiel is undressing him quickly, pulling impatiently at his shirtsleeves to make them let go of his wrists. Dean smiles while biting down on his swollen, stinging bottom lip, leans away to reach his bag and the tube he rolled up in a pair of socks, hiding it as much for himself as for anyone else. 

Once his boots and jeans are off, and once Castiel has kicked off his slacks and well-worn dress shoes, Dean lies back on the bed and thinks that he’s still not brave enough to face Castiel while they do this, but nothing in the world could make him turn away now. Castiel is on him in an instant, kissing wherever he can reach: his mouth, jaw, catching his earlobe between his teeth and breathing hot near his ear, and Dean’s back arches off the bed. 

His head is swimming and he’s so worked up he worries this is going to be over before they even get started, but he resolutely pours lube on his own fingers, not really able to see what he’s doing and probably getting a fair amount on the sheets, and wiggles until he can reach behind himself. He never really figured out a good angle for this, but he gets one digit inside, and Castiel watches him intensely, holding himself up with one arm while the other hand is on his own cock, stroking slowly, overwhelmed and hungry. 

Fuck, that’s hot. Dean forces the finger deeper inside, straining. Back and forth, trying for a rhythm. He looks up at the ceiling, because he thinks that if he looks straight at the naked angel kneeling between his legs he’ll lose it. It’s not until he’s awkwardly added a second finger that Castiel asks if he can do it, and Dean bites his lips again, nods. Last time Dean did all the work while Castiel watched, but his angel is a quick learner. Castiel’s touch is gentler, he's got one careful finger stroking his rim slowly, and then proceeds to finger him open at a pace that is entirely at odds with the frantic look on his face. It’s the carefulness more than the physical sensation that has Dean writhing in the sheets. When Castiel finds his prostate it sends him straight to that almost-edge, and the angel looks pleased with himself, sitting upright so he can touch himself with his free hand. The slick sounds of Castiel’s hand and fingers working in tandem fill the quiet room and fuck it, Dean hopes the heavenly host is watching what Castiel is doing to the Michael Sword. He’s deriving a sick kind of pleasure from how messed up this is, how dirty and unholy. Involuntarily, his muscles clenches around the fingers inside him. It’s inching past uncomfortable towards good, and his breathing is coming out unevenly. 

“Don’t stop,” he pleads, prays. 

“I won’t.” Once he’s three fingers deep Dean pulls his other thigh up, face hot but so desperate that he doesn’t care, he just really needs this to happen now. 

“Now, Cas,” he demands, sounding wrecked even to his own ears. Castiel wastes no time, wiping his messy fingers on the bed sheets (yeah, Dean’s gonna have to do laundry before Bobby comes back), the head of his cock bumping against his entrance, and with some guidance of his hand carefully pushing inside. Castiel groans close to Dean’s ear as he inches forwards, and it hurts, but everything feels good, even the pain. Jimmy Novak was hung , and Dean doesn’t even know if Castiel picks up on stuff like that, if he knows that his equipment is bigger than usual. Probably not. Dean loves it. 

Once Dean’s adjusted, Castiel fucks him steadily with bright eyes and his kiss-bitten mouth hanging open. The starving black hole in Dean’s chest causes him to keep pulling Castiel down so they can kiss, which leaves Castiel with little leverage left and throws him out of his rhythm, but it’s worth it. Dean’s not twenty anymore, and he’s got a feeling he’s going to be sore in more places than one tomorrow. He really doesn’t give a shit, though, bent in half like this. And more than he wants to orgasm he wants to feel Castiel’s arms around him again, all that skin-to-skin contact, cause nobody’s ever really held him like Castiel does, but for some reason it’s easier to ask to be fucked than to get a goddamn hug. 

“Harder,” he says, eyes shut, but he means closer. Castiel leans back up on his arms, and finds his pace again, jolts of pleasure sparking through him. Not close enough, but it's getting more and more difficult to think, which is probably for the best.

When he opens his eyes again he can see how the outer rings of Castiel’s irises are glowing a soft blue and how his wings keep flickering in and out of this plane of existence behind him. Dean hooks his ankles around Castiel’s waist, slipping a little on the sweaty skin, trying to meet his thrusts. It’s getting really, really good like this. 

“Bring ‘em out,” Dean begs, greedy for anything he can get. A look of exasperation flickers across Castiel’s face. “Want to see your wings while you’re fucking me.” 

“That… requires… concentration,” he grunts.

“So?” 

Castiel cock hits his prostate again, sending lightning through him. “Mmm. Keep doing that, right there.” At that, Castiel stills, fully sheathed inside Dean. Staring down at him with fully blown pupils, keeping him in place. 

“You’re very demanding.”

Dean pulls him in with a hand around his neck again and presses an open-mouthed kiss to his mouth in an attempt to collect himself. Never in his life has the simple act of sex felt so stupidly monumental. He’s had great sex, but not even with the partners he was certain he loved, like Cassie or Lisa, did it feel like this. Like the turn of the Earth hinges on whichever way Castiel will touch him next.

“Sorry,” he whispers. Castiel starts to rock inside him again, and suddenly they’re there, massive, feathery wings, filling the room. Pitch black and more than a little impressive. Dean buries his hands in them curiously and this time it’s Castiel who groans, to Dean’s delight. They feel softer than anything he’s ever felt, silky smooth and light. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.” It tumbles out of him before he can stop himself. Nothing matters except his rebellious angel, naked and beautiful, and the only damn angel allowed inside this body. Dean has been balancing on the edge of his climax for a while now and it only takes a few more minutes with a hand on his cock and the other gripping Castiel’s wing tightly for him to come, explosively, long stripes of semen painting his own chest, painting Castiel’s. Castiel follows closely after, emptying himself deep inside Dean while his wings trash wildly, and Dean can’t only lie back and take it. After he’s pulled out, he wipes one finger through the mess on Dean’s chest, popping it into his mouth with his eyes firmly on Dean’s face. And Dean’s not a prude, but Castiel is so shameless in his want that it makes Dean’s ears burn. To his mild disappointment, the wings have disappeared back to whatever dimension they reside in. Damn, he really wanted to get wrapped up in one of those bad boys. 

“Weirdo,” he mutters, but he doesn’t really mean it. Castiel raises one eyebrow and licks the rest straight from Dean’s chest. And when he’s done, when he lies down on his side between Dean and the wall, it’s Dean who rolls over and kisses the taste of it from his mouth. He’ll need to get up and wash the drying come off his ass and thighs, but… in a moment. Honestly he’s not sure his legs would carry him to the bathroom even if he tried. It’s still tingling pleasantly while the cold air chills his sweaty skin, making him shiver. Yeah, it’s a real shame about the wings, but he’s not sure he can ask for that again either.

“You could have been killed tonight,” Castiel says quietly. Some of his old reservedness and awkwardness is back, like a curtain that has been drawn, and he doesn’t make a move to hold Dean with his arms. It’s not something they do. Still, in a moment of weakness, Dean laces their fingers together. 

“You could’ve brought me back,” Dean counters. Castiel looks down at their intertwined hands on the bed between them. 

“Your life is precious.” 

“My vessel is precious,” Dean corrects, detangling his fingers in order to jokingly pat his own naked ass. “And for good reason. Feels good, doesn’t it?” Right now, it is feeling very good, all loose and relaxed. A bit sore, but in a good way. And Castiel seemed to enjoy himself fine. The black hole yearning for something more, some love, maybe, is a minor detail, pay it no mind. Castiel watches him and he doesn’t look very amused.

“You need to be careful,” he says, barely audibly. “I don’t think I could stand to lose you.” 

Well, fuck. 

“Don’t worry, Cas. I’ll be fine. I’ll always be fine.” 

#supernatural #spn #deancas #destiel #spn fanfic #mdni #destiel fanfic #still in my offline era but i've still been writing so. just thought i'd post this #see u all soon

[softcryz]

I want to see crea as different species, lizard, scug, scav... Go silly

GO SILLY I DID!!

I've technically drawn him as a slugcat over a thousand times but I will take any excuse to do it again and again because. Well. It's fun.

I usually draw him with the antenna but if we're going true slugcat then we have to embrace his tiny ass ears and his tiny stub tail.

Just a really fucking big and strong slugcat. Whenever I draw him his markings change so who knows maybe that's just something that happens. Makes him throw up paint.

NOW.. ANYTHING BESIDES SLUGCAT IS A STRUGGLE. I kinda failed at making him look scavenger-like and I apologize.

Huge. Probably muscular. Probably has like a strap thingy so that he can have more items on his person.

I.. ALSO HAD A LOT OF TROUBLE HERE. It's so hard to make something feel like him without the shape of his antenna. He doesn't take inspiration off of a specific lizard in general, I just kinda threw stuff around. (But if I had to choose two, probably either caramel lizard or his Canvas Lizards)

He's got like weird rainbow ribbon-y frills. I dunno. His head would probably end up being the white of his antenna?? It's like the reverse of a normal lizard which is fun.

I would've done more (EX; ancient, human, ect) but my brain blocks me from what he would look like as those things (even though I desperately want to draw them) SO.. THIS IS ALL FOR NOW

Except for cat Creativity. Cat Creativity has existed for ages. BEFORE Creativity was even a concept. But I won't explain why that is

I had these weird little rambles from last night of me trying to decode what makes Creativity "Creativity" too? I failed but they exist and they're out in the world now

#zoc scrambled #zoc asks #zoc artwork #zoc shack #LANDS_EDGE #rain world #rw oc #rw iterator #rw slugcat #rw scavenger #rw lizard

[tgmsunmontue]

Where do I know you from? 10/10

Hangster crackfic (that kind of turned serious and then hurt-comfort). There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN PART EIGHT PART NINE

PART TEN

                “Well, that made for a more dramatic exit than they needed,” Six grumbles, but he’s already cleaning up the broken teacup. Maverick is definitely crying, his grip on Rooster white knuckled, but Penny has stepped in close, and Rooster is handing him off, his own eyes red. Jake turns away sharply, doesn’t want to be caught watching such a vulnerable moment, even if a version of himself was at the center of it all. Not that he’s there anymore and he wonders what made him disappear. He’ll ask, if the opportunity arises.

                There are only four other pairs of Rooster-Jakes now, Three, Five, Six and Eight. It’s far more manageable to keep track of, and he’s kind of missed what has happened with everything that’s been going on. He can ask some of the others later, because he can see Halo and Phoenix gathering their things, all the female versions of himself and Rooster have also apparently gone and the idea that there are female versions of himself is still unsettling.

                “We’re heading out. You want a ride?”

                “No, I’ll be okay. Thanks though. Javy’s here.”

                “This has been… educational. Good luck with the ones that are left…” Phoenix says, eyes quickly darting around the Hard Deck before settling back with Jake. She slaps his arm and then walks away and he shrugs, looks between Jakes Three and Five and Jake suddenly misses Thirteen, despite not even knowing him very long. He rubs at his face, because he’s trying to be more honest with himself. He wants a Rooster that would be like Thirteen. With him. He’s not going to get it, so he shoves the want down and does his best to ignore it, walks over to Roosters Three and Five, who are both still working on their spreadsheet.

                “You planning on leaving your spreadsheet?” Jake asks, and he’s only half teasing, because now that he’s feeling less overwhelmed he’s interested in taking a look.

                “I took photos of it. And made Jake take photos. And then we emailed the photos to a couple of different addresses. Plus I took some photos of other stuff earlier,” Five says, hitting the palm of his hand with his phone.

                “Did you do that too?” Jake asks Three, because he feels like it’s something he’d do.

                “Uh, no. I don’t have a phone with me,” Three says, and he’s shooting his Jake a quick look, like he’s worried he’s about to get an earful.

                “Did you lose it or just forget it?” Jake Three asks, looking resigned and also softly amused and Jake shoves the wanting down further.

                “Pretty sure I just forgot it and it’s at home.”

                “Because being transported to an alternate universe is an acceptable reason to lose your phone,” Three’s Jake says dryly, and Three grins widely, then he’s leaning forward and pecking a kiss against Jake Three’s lips and then they’re gone. Just like that. Five blinks and looks at Jake.

                “I don’t think he remembered that would happen when they kissed…”

                “They’re back where they belong,” Jake says, and Five looks a little bereft, like he’s maybe lost a friend, and he guesses him and Three did pretty much solidly stick together the whole time they were here. It’s only been a couple of hours though.

                “So, we don’t know what’s going to happen when we’ve all gone back to where we’re meant to be. Whether you’ll forget this ever happened, or it’ll become a hazy memory, or remain something weird and crystal clear. It’s not like we have any experience to call on, and the ones who have maybe had the closest have already gone back…” Bob says and Jake blinks at him and does a little double take.

                “You… know about this type of stuff?”

                “I like sci-fi,” Bob states, and both Rooster Eight and his Jake are grabbing Bob in a hug, telling him how he’s just as great in their universe, before turning to Jake.

                “We’re going to head out. Home? Away? We’re going to go,” Eight says, and his Jake is nodding, but not before he grabs Jake in a tight hug, words whispered in his ear he’s a stubborn shit but he wants to be taken care of just as much as you do. He pulls back and nods once, sharply and Jake finds himself nodding back. That message, coupled with Thirteen telling him to be patient is making him think that maybe he just needs to dig his heels in and out-stubborn Rooster. He has always enjoyed beating him at things.

                Then Rooster Eight and another version of himself are kissing; it’s not a soft peck like Three exchanged, but a tongue filled exchange with hands on faces and then they’re gone and Jake is left with Five and his Jake, the spreadsheet clutched in his hand. Six is at the bar talking to his Jake, along with Maverick and Penny. Rooster, his Rooster, is walking toward him, looking hesitant for some reason and Jake quirks an eyebrow and tries to smile, although feels it probably looks pained. He moves away from the others, wants to have the chance to talk to Rooster without anyone else listening in.

                “Hey… how does it feel to be the center of a tear between alternate universes?”

                “Really fucking weird. You seem to be taking this whole thing better than me. Looking out for everyone and making the best of this…”

                Jake shakes his head, because this isn’t normal by any stretch of the imagination, and he can’t imagine making light of any of this, not now.

                “Just doing my level best. I’m… sorry about the photos. I didn’t think he’d be able to show you photos.”

                “No, don’t apologize,” Rooster says, shaking his head. “It’s okay. It was… weird. But good. They’re my parents, but they’re not my parents you know? But seeing them in those photos? Older and happy? It’s nice to have that image at least, not just my imagination of what they might look like.”

                “Yeah…” Jake says, thinking of the photo he saw of Laura. “I know what you mean.”

                “That Hangman, the one that was here by himself…”

                Jake swallows roughly and nods, realizes he might not even have to ask, that Rooster might just offer up what he might have said to him. The other version of him.

                “He… he’ll be okay. I told him that I didn’t want him to waste the life he had simply because mine had been cut short in his universe. That as annoying as he is I wouldn’t have wanted him to drown himself in guilt or stop living. That the mission had already taken two lives and it didn’t need to take a third one.”

                “Jesus Rooster.”

                “Then I kissed him and he… said thank you and then kind of… melted away.”

                Jake sucks in a breath, throat tight as his eyes prickle as he thinks about what could have been and he’s reaching for Rooster and just wrapping his arms around him into a tight hug, fingers curling tightly into the fabric of his hoodie.

                “Losing you was not an option. Not for me.”

                “You think it was for him?”

                “No. Not at all. He’s unlucky. All it would have taken was a buckle not already done up and I would have been too late as well. I didn’t need to see dozens of different versions of you to know that I’m lucky to have you alive.”

                “Oh…”

                He pulls back from the hug, not surprised to feel Rooster already withdrawing.

                “Leave them alone you idiot! They’re finally talking!”

                “It feels rude to just leave without saying goodbye!”

                “If anyone is going to understand, it’ll be alternate versions of ourselves.”

                He glances over his shoulder and Six and Jake-Six are standing there awkwardly, clearly wanting to go and Jake steps up and grabs his counterpart in a tight hug, glad when he’s hugged back just as tightly.

                “Don’t forget to tell her.”

                “I won’t, not matter how unhinged it’ll make me sound.”

                “Not out of the ordinary for you then,” Jake says to himself, because his sisters give him shit and this Jake has those same sisters. His answering grin is warm, then he’s offering his fist for a fist bump and Jake knocks against it. Watches as they kiss and turns to find Five watching it all, his arms around his Jake, chin almost resting on top of his Jake’s head he’s just that fucking tall. His expression is a little sad and Jake realizes that they’re the last ones left.

                “This whole experience has been fascinating. No idea what caused it but I look forward to reading into potential theories when I get home…” Five says, and then he’s hugging Jake, and he tucks himself under Five’s chin, just to see what it would feel like. When he glances at Jake Five he seems to know what he’s thinking and is looking smug. Ass.

                “Lead good lives. We wish you all the best…”

                He doesn’t have time to say anything before Five is ducking his head down to kiss his Jake firmly and then they’re gone as well. He’s the only Jake left, and Rooster is still there, also looking a little rattled and he knows the universe is trying to tell him something, and if not the universe then all the other versions of himself have told him. He has to try again.

                “Do you think the universe is trying to tell us something?”

                “I think multiple universes are trying to tell us something…” Rooster says, his body tense and Jake blows out a long breath.

                “On the carrier, right after the mission… What did you think I wanted?” The look on Rooster’s face is incredulous, like he can’t believe Jake is dumb enough to be asking such an obvious question. “Humor me. What do you think I wanted?”

                “Sex.”

                Jake winces, because he can appreciate why Rooster might have thought that. His relief and joy that he’d saved him had been overwhelming, forcing him into uncharacteristic actions and kissing Rooster in the sickbay of all places. He hadn’t exactly stopped to talk. He shakes his head, looks away, can tell Rooster is studying him but doesn’t want to meet his eyes, feels far too raw after everything that has happened in the last couple of hours. Then Rooster is speaking.

                “I was high on pain meds, concussed, thought my godfather had died, accepted that I was going to die over and over and then lived through it every single fucking time… I wasn’t ready to get on another rollercoaster ride, especially if it was only going to be over in a matter of minutes.”

                “Wasn’t just sex…” Jake says, voice quiet. “Isn’t just sex. What about now? You want to take that rollercoaster ride?”

                “Depends. Am I getting on it alone?”

                “You were never getting on it alone.”

                “Oh.”

                Jake looks then, Rooster is watching him, eyes hopeful and he wonders if seeing all these versions of themselves coupled-up is making Rooster more open to considering and accepting Jake at face value. There might not need to be any need to dig his heels in and needing to out-stubborn him at all. Rooster is stepping into his space and kissing him and Jake revels in it. The scrape of his moustache, his hands on Jake’s waist tugging him closer, tongue licking into Jake’s mouth and he presses back. Lets his own hands go, one reaching for Rooster’s curls, running through his hair and then just cradling the back of his head, other hand curving around the swell of an ass cheek. Then there’s a cough and he pulls back an incremental amount to see Bob and Maverick looking at them but also looking uncomfortable.

                “You two are actually going to need to drive home. No magical transportation for you, you’re already in the right universes. Just… this isn’t the place.”

                “Come home with me?” Rooster asks, and Jake nods, finally feels like he’s in the right place.

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfic #where do I know you from?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not telling someone I don't like something?

Sounds weird but hear me out. I (26F) have been at a new job for the last couple of months and I'm settling in really well with the team. One of the ladies at work (25F) is really into techno music and raving, and she was talking about it the other day. I like taking an interest when other peopke are talking about their interests so I was listening, adding in things I've heard to contribute, asking questions etc. All pretty normal right? The trouble is she now assumes that I'm really into the same music, she keeps sending me links to songs and has even been talking about organising a night out. The truth is, while I don't hate that kind of music, it's nowhere near my first choice to listen to and I'm not the kind to go to raves at all. I feel like it's a bit late to backtrack now, but I also don't want to string her along when I have no intention of going to a rave with her. 

This is the second time I've managed to do this, with one friend still thinking I'm super interested in and knowledgeable about horse eventing when I'm really not (I work in veterinary medicine so we had to learn about horses at college and I rode for a little bit, but that's where my input ends). I'm figuring out ways to avoid being brought along to equine eventing days with her as well. I have a lot going on so I'd rather spend my time doing things I enjoy, and I spend plenty of time with my horsey friend doing non-horse-related things that we both enjoy. 

So am I the asshole for not telling them I'm not THAT into the things they like? It kind of feels like I'm lying to them in a way, but I also don't want to disappoint them and they seem happy talking about their interests. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and go with them?

#aita #am i the asshole

[nona-99]

its so fucked up because ive been eating relatively normally for 3 years because i simply did not have the energy anymore to keep obsessing and ⭐ving myself. i had way bigger problems and i had a lot to work through. and as soon as life starts feeling more normal and actually kind of fucking good for once, here i am, once again crawling back to tumblr and the same old eating habits and obsessions and the need for control. its like i cant let myself just be happy. there always has to be something for me to brood over. i cant just live.

of course these thoughts never really went away. i dont think ive lived a day where i havent thought i wasnt sk1nny enough. but for some reason, now is the time its gotten too much. now i just HAVE to do something about as if ive run out of excuses not to.

i wonder what it is that makes me want to write about it and post it though. i could easily just happily consume all the triggers on this platform in secret. maybe im lonely. maybe im just waiting for any type of feedback that proves 'i am sick'.

ive wondered if this type of illness is like some weird by-product of Munchausen syndrome except instead of faking it, we go the extra mile and actually try to achieve the illness. because if i know what living with this illness is like, its not just about control, its about being belivably ill, and i know that every single person using these hashtags on a daily basis would (literally) die for a concerened look or comment about their health even if its not really related to their weight.

'maybe you should see a doctor'

'you dont look so good, are you feeling okay?'

'you look pale'

'you look sick'

'do you need some water?'

'you seem distracted'

'you're not yourself today'

'do you need help with that?'

'try to get some more sleep tonight'

and what it really fucking boils down to is finally getting that validation you needed when you were a kid. and that craving will never be satisfied because that formed a deep dark pit in your soul that can never be filled.

#ed relapse #3dtumblr #⭐️ve #ana buddie #ana is my friend #ana is my life #light as a feather #tw 3d vent #@tw edd #tw edtwt #tw ed but not sheeran #tw ed implied #eating disoder trigger warning #@n@ diary #anaorexya #anoresick #rexielife #pro recovery #low cal restriction #tw disordered thoughts #tw ana bløg #tw thinspi #thinspp #thinsperation

[lenakluthor]

18, 19, 27, 38 for supercorp!!💙

18. What are they like when they're drunk? How do they act together? & when 1 is drunk, while the other one's sober? okay we've seen both of them drunk before, and i feel like that rings true for me. kara is a silly and giggly and probably very touchy feely (with lena only) and lena strikes me as a depressed drunk, especially since we've really only seen her get truly drunk was when she thought she poisoned the city's children with lead. however, i think if she gets drunk with kara she is also probably a little bolder, maybe drops her filter more. she's flirty and much more suggestive. if only one of them is drunk, i think sober lena would be exasperated but also extremely enamored by drunk kara. she'd be so SOFT with her and have a smile on her face the entire time, even when she drags her home to get some rest. and if kara is the sober one, it depends on what mood lena is in. if she's being suggestive, kara would be a blushing, stammering mess until she can get them home where she can actually act on what she wants to do in response. and if drunk lena is depressed, she'd instantly switch to protector mode, adamantly reminding lena of her goodness and threatening to throw anyone who hurts her into space.

19. What do they fight about most often? (Alternative: what was their biggest fight?) i mean, their biggest fight will always be the fallout after kara's identity reveal. and honestly, i think it probably remains the thing they fight about the most for a long time. wounds like that don't just go away, even if you've talked and reconciled and moved past it. sometimes it just hits you (also i'm a SLUT for angst). if we're going with a version of events where kara tells lena in 2x15 (which is when i think kara had the perfect opportunity), i genuinely don't know what they'd fight most about. i've been sitting here thinking about different possibilities, but honestly it feels like they wouldn't really argue over small stuff more than a few times. after that, they just learn to compromise and move forward. (if you're curious, my top choices in that department were food and tactical strategies, but it just felt weird thinking they'd continuously fight over either of those things)

27. Craziest place they had sex? oh, hands down in the air. maybe in space.

38. If/when they have kids, what is their parenting style (or pets-who does what)? hmmm i think i'm gonna go against what i think most people expect and say, in terms of like a "good cop, bad cop" scenario, lena is good cop and kara is bad cop. kara is a fierce protector and it's something she never got to do with kal. and this is their child. she is going to make sure that kid is safe above all else. meanwhile, lena came from a family that never showed love or affection. she'd absolutely be the one to say yes to everything. she'd be more inclined to let their kid have fun and be a kid without the burden of any sort of expectation. not that i think kara wouldn't also shower the kid with copious amounts of love, but she just usually has to be the one to put her foot down.

send me a ship + questions!

#katie answers #the fighting question GOT me #i had a whole response about food typed before i ultimately deleted it all #the same with tactical strategies and kara's preference for punching her way through everything #but in the end i just don't see them constantly fighting about the same thing ya know? #sure they fight but if it becomes a recurring thing they just work through it #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #supergirl #ask: anonymous