#2022 writing

[furyunbound]

A Sparda x Eva fic I did last year, since I have writers block have a taste of my writing lol apologies in advance if there's anything confusing I promise I write better now 😅

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With the demon realm being sealed by what the demons may call "The Traitor", humans were, for now, free of fear of being brutally executed from said demons. The brave dark Knight that did away with the demons had decided to settle among the humans, trying to learn as much about them as possible, traveling around the world to expand his knowledge.

He had been traveling for many years, and during his travels he visits a city named Red Grave, he had planned to stay for a month before he would set off to travel again. As a couple of weeks pass by, the temperature decreases as a season ends and a new one begins.

The people around him now wore coats and jackets to protect themselves from the cold elements, however Sparda was the only one who didn't wear a suitable outfit for the cold season.

"Aren't you cold, sir?"

A stranger asked, Sparda would kindly reply with a smile and a chuckle "No no this weather doesn't affect me at all." In which people would find strange, but would quickly mind their own business and move on with their lives. Though it came to a point where too many people asked the same question to him, and he had to admit to himself that it did become tiring getting asked the same question over and over again, so he brought it upon himself to get himself a coat for the cold winter.

It was the next day after Sparda got himself a coat that it had suddenly snowed heavily, it was the first time it snowed so much in Red Grave after some years. You can hear children running outside and screaming with joy, as excitement filled their souls at how much snow there had been, their minds coming up with millions of ways to play with the snow to their heart's content.

Sparda had gone outside with his newly bought coat on, gazing at the massive amount of cold not-so-solid ice in front of him. He was glad he had bought a coat just in time, for he figured many eyes would linger on him if he hadn't gotten a coat and many would find him strange for it. As his gaze lingers to the snow before him, he quirks a brow, in his many years of traveling he hadn't seen anything like this. He wanted to linger a while longer to continue gazing at the white ice, but he wanted answers, as his thirst for knowledge never ceased to end.

The man starts to make his way to the local library, however upon making fast steps the poor man slips on the slippery icy ground and falls face first

"Careful, grounds slippery!"

A man shouted in the distance. Sparda groaned and got up, taking a mental note to be careful with his steps. He took some time once he finally arrived in front of the library, however to his dismay, it was temporarily closed. He sighs, as it seemed he would have to wait a while before he could find some answers. He turns and heads for a nearby park. Once he arrived he decided to take a walk, seeing the many people playing with the snow, children making snow angels, friends throwing snowballs at each other, and families piling large snow to create a snowman. It intrigued Sparda how much one could do with snow. After some time the man would decide to take a break and sit on a bench, and as he makes his way to the nearest bench, he stops in his tracks, seeing tiny white particles fall from the sky. He gazes up, his mouth partially opens from the sight, he slowly takes his hand out, the snow particles falling into his gloved hand. "What.. is this?" He asked, and though his voice was low, a child hears him and answers gleefully

"It's a snowflake, mister! That's where the snow comes from!" The child said "If you look real hard you'll find a really pretty snowflake!"

As the child runs off to continue playing, Sparda repeats the word "Snow…" before looking up again to gaze at the falling snow. As he looks down in front of him, a woman sits on the bench, her hair long and blonde while she wore a red coat, her skin as white as the snow before him and lips as red as a rose. Sparda gazes at the woman much like how he gazes at the snow in awe. The woman sat alone, and there was an open space to sit next to her, though the woman looked as if she was possibly waiting for someone. The woman glanced up, and quickly Sparda looked away. The man scolded himself mentally for staring, for he knew it was rude to stare. However the woman had caught his interest, and he was yearning for a moment where he could look at the woman again. Soon reality struck, and he realized he had been standing there for too long. He slowly looks to the opening seat that was next to the woman, his mind telling him he should go sit next to her, but there was another part of him that told him not to, for the woman looked as if she was expecting company of sorts, and he wouldn't want to cause any trouble to the woman's possible significant other if she had one.

Reluctantly, Sparda walks past the bench the woman was sitting and looks for another bench to sit on. However he made the mistake of walking too fast and once again would slip and fall face first on the ground. "Oh my!" He heard before he'd try to lift himself up. "Are you alright, sir?" The woman had ran to his aid, landing on her knees to help lift the man up. "I am- I am fine I'm just clumsy today-" he turned himself around to where now he was sitting on the ground and rubbed his head and as he gazed up his eyes locked with the woman's and was left completely awestruck "I…" speechless, all he could do was stare at the beautiful woman before him. As more snowflakes continued to fall, the woman had mindlessly been staring into the man's eyes as well "S-sir?" Her voice quiet, Sparda immediately said what was on his mind, his gaze not once leaving hers

"You are a beautiful snowflake."

The woman gasps lightly, in shock at his statement, and now it was her that was left speechless. Silence filled the air, and they were left to stare into each other's eyes. His first snow wouldn't be his last, and he was glad he would find a beautiful snowflake among the rest.

~End~

[not-poignant]

It's that time of year again! Hammered out a modest (for me) word count of 472k over the year, with December's reflecting my overall burnout. Finished Falling Falling Stars, started another story to get addicted to (Underline the Black and friends), and overall it's been a great year for emotionally authentic writing! (My yearly wordcount does not include: worldbuilding, outlining, planning, multiple drafts (only the first draft of a chapter is included), or half-chapters since I *only* count completed chapters. It's a bit unconventional, but having a monthly wordcount where I only count completed chapters has been working for me for years now!)

This has been the first year in a little while that I haven't hit 500k, which I think reflects both a desire to spend more time relaxing and resting between writing, but also being absolutely smashed with a lot of new medical diagnoses and appointments, and being often too burnt out to write at all.

Next year doesn't look much better on the medical front, and may indeed be a lot worse. Being diagnosed with Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD), T2 Diabetes (50% of the people with my permacancer get T2 diabetes which only goes into remission upon removal of the tumours, but my tumours are inoperable, so my T2D can't go into remission) and possibly Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension (PAH) on top of all my other disorders each came as huge blows. One of the saddest being learning I may never be able to take ADHD meds again, and having to stop after a very amazing 3 months where I could schedule writing ahead for the first time in my life, and plan a holiday for December.

There will be no more Schedules going forward, that was sadly a 'medicated ADHD' blessing, and it's gone now. :(

So going forward into 2023 I don't know what writing I will be doing or what I will achieve. I don't know if I can continue writing the way I have been, and if I get an official confirmation on the PAH (so far it's only CT confirmed), and only have around 5~ years left to live, my writing future could look very different indeed.

But it's business as usual in the meantime.

This year I am the most broke I have ever been on the medical front (I have no health insurance, and only some of our healthcare is free, which doesn't include psychiatry, or the calibre of therapy I need, and now that I need to see a private pulmonologist and possibly engage in lung rehabilitation, things might get pretty awful pretty fast). I have never been more grateful to all the folks who have supported or who are still supporting on Patreon or who have given to Ko-Fi.

I love everyone who is in this little community, but for the ones who kept me financially afloat so I didn't drown, thank you.

[captastra]

2022 End of Year Writing Roundup

tagged by my @noetikat​ to look at my numbers on AO3 and share them here 💗

Total Words Published this year: 136,117

Additional Words Written: 8,450

Grand total of words: 144,567

New Works: 58 (I like writing one shots and 24 are from Writer’s Month)

Fandoms: The Outer Worlds, Resident Evil, Rogue One/Star Wars, Haven, Z Nation, Overwatch, The Evil Within, Pacific Rim

Highest Everything (raw kudos, hits, comments): The Memories Made Together or Heart At the Edge

Highest Kudos to Hits Ratio: No clue, I tend to avoid counting that number

New Things I Tried: Joined old fandoms I had loved! I wrote smut for the first time and participated in more writing events.

Fic I Spent the Most Time On: Secrets in the Darkness (started it last year and finally decided to start posting this year) or Bound by Twin Moons (this one started as an original fiction that I thought about a year or so ago and decided to try it out with Rhea, Felix, and TOW ensemble)

Fic I Spent the Least Time On: One that I can think of is When Will You Come Back, though quite a few were written day of for Writer’s Month.

Favorite Thing I Wrote: Waiting Here for You (Resident Evil), Let It Hurt (Rogue One/Star Wars), Bon Appetit (Haven), and if I had to pick one for The Outer Worlds, Bound By Twin Moons, but I love pretty much all of my TOW fics!

Favorite Thing I Read: I’ve enjoyed reading so many different stories out there and meeting/getting to know such amazing writers!!

Writing Goals for 2023: To keep writing no matter what, not beat myself up when life becomes too stressful to write, and finish some of the long fics I have going on currently.

No pressure tags: @kourumi​ @confidentandgood​ @poisonedtruth​ @aceghosts​ @bearcina​ @damejudyhench​ @incognito-insomniac​ @the-grand-king-queen​ @kirjanikv6ilill​ @antoncrane​ @bitchesofostwick​ @vakarians-babe​ @roofgeese​ @glitter-and-gasoline​ @galaxycunt @kyber-infinitygems and anyone else who wants to share!

[larrysballetslippers]

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation 2022

I wanted to this again as I had so much fun last year. And I have grown so much since last year hheehe. Let's see how this year turned out.

1. Number of stories posted to AO3 this year: 20 (+1 coming)

2. Word count posted for the year: 100,386

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction

4. Pairings: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson/OMC

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: If You Forget Me

Bookmarks: If You Forget Me

Comments: Caught In Between Love

More under the cut.

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): 

When I Say Give Me (I mean the world). It was the first Girl Direction fic I have written and the first longer fic in a long time (19k is a lot for me). In the middle of this fic my crush broke my heart, but I sat that aside to write it and I still don't know how I did it. I even improved my writing speed. Couldn't have done it without @thebreadvansstuff, so thank you sweetie!!

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

Printed Against The Sky. It's a good fic, I don't mind it, but I think I could have done better. I wanted to write Age Play for a while so I think I overhyped it myself. It's still a great fic, but just not what I hoped it would be.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

On To Voice My Love. Let me just share it because I was smiling so much when I read it again:

Oh my god, this was so so good! I am not an active part of this fandom, but I saw this on my dash and read it. Also, I never read about smut in polyamorous relationships in general because I'm a little uncomfortable with that idea. But DAMN, this was so BEAUTIFULLY written! I loved how you portrayed the communication problem and need for emotional support for Harry, and how Louis is such a sweet supportive dom. Overall, it's such a healthy and precious demonstration of BDSM and also super hot. Loved it! Would really love to read more about these three! A small request, can we get a bit more dominant side of Andrew too, that would be hot af, but that's completely upto you. Overall, loved this sm.

The fact someone who wouldn't read this kind of story READ MY STORY AND LOVE IT!!!! I can't, I love it!!! it was a first for me, and honestly it was a bit weird to write at first, but now I am so used to have my three boys, I don't know to let them go (why the series is still going).

9. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Well it was around October, beginning of November. I was feeling really really stressed with uni and writing and all my responsibilities. I didn't really know why? But it was really hard to smile.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

ANDREW MY BABY BOY!!! Andrew is my OMC for my For My Lovers series. I didn't know I would love him so much. He is my precious little bean. Well... he's very bratty and a smart ass pain in the butt, but he's MY pain in the butt. He came together nicely, like I didn't plan much, it was so natural. Love him so much.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

When Love Is Enough... it's just something I wish someone will say to me one day...

Andrew let go of his body for the first time in a long while to hold Harry’s face. “Harry, listen to me. You’re our world, our everything. You’re not your sister, you are perfect just the way you are. We wouldn’t want anyone else. You are enough for us.” “Yes, you are the most caring and thoughtful person in the world, always putting us before yourself. Even before your own sorrows.” Louis kissed Harry’s forehead and sighed. Harry bit his lip again, it was uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure if it was bleeding or not. “Of course, you’re both so amazing, I umm… I should feel thankful to just be around-” Louis interrupted Harry. “You’re worth a thousand stars, a million suns and all the moons in the universe. Don’t let me catch you thinking you’re lucky to be around us, because we are the ones who should be thanking the heavens that we have you.”

12. How did you grow as a writer this year:

Omg, I thought I grew so much last year, this year is on a total different level. I started writing faster, make better plot progressions, dialogue got better. BODY LANGUAGE got so much better. I am much better with pacing, don't need to worry about it so much anymore. Short fics stay shorter, because I have been practicing with my fic commissions. I don't know, I write Girl Direction now, I feel I even have grown as a baby bi because of that! I am not so scared to say... boobs lol. I have gotten so much more confident.

13. How do you hope to grow next year:

Well, tone it done a bit... I have written a bit too much this year. I wanted to write 9? fics, because I wrote 8 last year.... 21 haha oopsie. I have definitely overworked myself and that's not good.

Besides that, I want to get better at writing. I want to better at grammar and imagery, less repetition. I want to grow. Be better at longer fics. My modelling au for the @notjustsmutficfest will be a longer one and I already feel overwhelmed haha. And a kid fic that I won't say too much about.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Well I think I couldn't have done anything, if it wasn't for @onlythebravest. Julia has helped me get through this year, I don't even know what would have happened if it wasn't for them! One thing, For My Lovers wouldn't have been here haahaha. At least not the way it is now!! Thank you for always hearing my whining and overexcited 2pm fic ideas.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Hahahaha, ummm. Almost all the emotional scenes in my fics have some form of self insertion hehe.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Well, have fun. Write what you want to write, don't be scared. If you want to write a fic where the one dee boys are butterflies, do it bestie.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: 

Well I have a few.

My Modelling au for @notjustsmutficfest. My girl direction religion fic for @1dreligionfest. Next season for For My Lovers. A pantyhose fetish fic. My kid fic. And a fic for next round of the @1dastroficfest, that's coming in January!!

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

@onlythebravest @thebreadvansstuff @huggieshalo @kingsofeverything @harrysmaison @thedevilinmybrain @lunarheslwt @momrryrights @larry-hiatus @polaroidlouis @cyantific @parmahamlarrie @haztobegood @faithinwalls369 @panye @zanniscaramouche

[chicgeekgirl89]

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Rules: post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!   

Thanks so much for the tag @irispurpurea! This was a fun way to reflect on the year!

5 Works

You Have the Right to Remain Silent (But I Know You Won’t)- This one was such a challenge because it involved the entire 126, but I’m super proud of how it turned out!

Hold Onto Me- I think this was my first +1 fic and I love all the little moments I came up with.

Never Enough- The ice storm arc STRESSED ME THE FRICK FRACK OUT. In fact, most of last season did. I wrote this because I needed the boys to have some soft, sweet, perfect time together. It might not be a perfect fic, but it was cathartic to write. 

Not a Booty Call- I loved exploring the boys’ early days and T.K.’s softening toward Carlos. 

Sisters, Sisters- What can I say? I never expected to write oc’s, and I certainly never expected to love them as much as I love Francesca and Adriana. It was DELIGHTFUL to write their dialogue and all their sass and love for Carlos and T.K.

4 Wips

These are such a wreck, I don’t even know lol

1. Packing a Piece- a deeper look into that fateful match of darts and what happened before and after.

2. My Pain Fits in the Palm of Your Freezing Hand- The ice storm arc from Carlos’ perspective that I’ve been working on for almost a literal year now. Yikes. 

3. I have a camping fic involving the 126 boys and Carlos that will fill a bingo spot that I have a love/hate relationship with. Hopefully that goes up at some point. 

4. I’m looking through my ideas doc and realizing I’ve written most of them, so hopefully LS S4 gives me some new ideas lol. I have a funny idea for a fic where Carlos has to set some stern boundaries for T.K. about where they can and cannot have sex, but I can’t seem to get much going on that, so we’ll see! 

3 Biggest Improvements

1. I now go through all my fics and remove the word “just” as much as I possibly can. It’s my go-to filler word and it “just” doesn’t need to be used as often as I like to throw it in there. 

2. I’ve tried to get a little less precious about things. Sometimes I love moments too much and I’ve held onto them longer than they were productive for the fic. I’m working on getting better at letting them go, or reworking them so they serve the fic better. 

3. I think I’ve gotten better at writing longer form fic. I am definitely a more concise writer so trying to write more lengthy pieces has been a challenge. 

2 Resolutions

1. I’d like to get better at description and world building. I’m a dialogue person through and through, and I forget to describe what’s going on around the characters a lot of the time. 

2. I’d like to be more consistent about building time to write. I tend to write when the muse strikes, but I’d like to actually be setting time aside to write each week. Not sure that will happen but...we will see!

1 Favorite Line

@bluenet13 knows I’m extremely bad at favorites, so this is tough! It’s technically more than one line...but Nancy’s the only one talking, so...it’s one in my mind lol!

From A Lifetime Original Movie Kind of Way- “AH!” she yelled, pointing a finger at him. “Ah! See! That is the heart of the issue right there! That cavalier attitude. You think you have nine fucking lives and you don’t T.K. You don’t. You’ve only got one and you nearly lost it. I had to literally shove life back into your cold, naked body, which, to be clear, is not something I have ever desired to see anywhere at anytime. You died between my hands and I had to touch your frosty corpse, and it’s only by the grace of like eternal love or some bullshit that you made it through.”

Tagging @bluenet13, @ejzah, @wanna-be-bold, and @mashmaiden.

[ignaciosanchez1701]

Queering the Characters Day

“Hello, Q.”

“Hello. I thought I was late.”

Tanner smiled. “I’m afraid it’s just us. M had to take a call. Villiers got caught up too. Moneypenny may join us later. I’m surprised you made it out.”

“Ah,” Q sighed. “That probably means more work is coming. We could have just ordered something for the office,” he muttered, nudging the cutlery and napkins to line up neatly perpendicular with the tables edge, his eyes flittering around the room. Tanner watched him with slightly raised eyebrows.

“The point was a nice quiet dinner away from work.”

Q huffed. “That’s optimistic.”

“Occasionally it’s needed.”

Read more

(1500 words)

[moginrambles]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work, Call of Cthulhu (Roleplaying Game), Dick Hardy's Investigators Office Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Morgan O'Connell, Nyarlathotep (Cthulhu Mythos) Additional Tags: Post "The Day Off", Canon Divergent Summary:

Furious upon connecting his childhood friend's murder to one of the Faceless One's disciples, Morgan O'Connell demands to be left alone. However the elder god has an uncanny way of redirecting the conversation.

The Faceless One took his silence as a chance to speak, “You have a tendency to overthink things, Morgan O’Connell.”

Morgan couldn’t fault him there. He was angry, he was panicking, and he was thinking himself in circles without getting anything done.

[arcade-png]

Anger was always an emotion that ••• had tried her best to stifle. All consuming, anger was flames of fire licking at her heels as she lived and breathed. And she couldn't risk falling into the heat.

------

It was like time was slowing down and speeding up all at once, and ••• was moving without thinking. Creeping, crawling, the rage was infiltrating. Each step she took closer was deliberate. She was zeroed in, yet everything else seemed so clear.

excerpts from a peter parker - spiderman fanfiction that didn't make the cut / 2022-23

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

🌹💀 That Time Ghost Almost Risked His Career 💀🌹

On the way to their date, Jade got mugged by three people. They obviously chose the really wrong target. When Ghost got the text message from her, he ran to the hospital to find her.

Masked Version (alternative storyline where he forgot to open the mask maybe? He caught a lot of people's eyes.) 👇

Love me some Protective!Ghost (❁´◡`❁) (and yes that's also his worried face).

I miss drawing Ghost's unmasked face, so I kinda want to draw an expression, and it just pops out of my mind! (Might make a fic out of this 👀 who knows).

Hope you love this sketch! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

Support me on Ko-Fi!

[neonovember]

Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)

Office Doors

Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world

warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen

carmen berzatto x reader!

(This is totally and completely canon btw)

You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.

You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.

You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.

It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.

And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.

The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.

Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.

You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.

Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.

One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.

You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.

They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.

Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.

Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's. 

“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him. 

Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you,  as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.

You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in. 

You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.

You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.

“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.

The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively

“I definitely want something”

You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.

“You’re food will be out in a short-while-” 

“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation

“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile

“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.

“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer

You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.

You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.

“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.

“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh

“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.

You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.

The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.

“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath

“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.

“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.

“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.

“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up. 

The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.

The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened. 

Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.

Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.

“What did he just say?” 

“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.

The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.

“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.

A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died. 

And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.

The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice. 

It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.

“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.

Carmen  wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.

His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. 

Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.

“Apologise”

“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing  against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony. 

“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs” 

The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen,  at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.

“Do you accept? Huh honey?”

You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.

Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement

“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.

You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar  vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.

The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen. 

By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.

No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you. 

Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.

“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.

“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.

Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“

“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.

Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.

“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.

You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it. 

“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them. 

His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you. 

The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air. 

It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle. 

You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.

Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him. 

Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.

“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.

“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.

“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.

“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips

“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.

You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them. 

“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.

“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt. 

He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.

Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.

Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.

“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him. 

Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.

“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you, 

“Let them” 

Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud. 

You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.

“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over

Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.

Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.

“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.

“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.

Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.

You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds. 

You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.

Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.

The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again. 

You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him. 

He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.

You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.

You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.

Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.

Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.

As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait

“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust” 

“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.

You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him. 

It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much. 

You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.

This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.

“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.

You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.

The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.

You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.

Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.

The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.

You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.

You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss. 

Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.

You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.

After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.

“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise

“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.

“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.

“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.

“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.

“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”

“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover

“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does” 

Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.

“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.

“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.

“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.

You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

oml hiiii, i rushed here immediately when i saw your requests are open ive been in love with the idea of maybe ghost having a teenage niece (his older brothers daughter) who he basically raised when he wasn't on duty but like none of the 141 knows about it because he keeps her a secret. He's basically her father at this point cause the rest of the family was murdered when she was only a baby. Anyways, you can do whatever you want with this prompt or not if you don't want to. But like I can totally just imagine Soap just seeing them in a Tescos and absolutely losing his shit when seeing a teenager swinging from his Lieutenants arm.

if you choose not to do this prompt that's completely fine!!! thank you!!!

—Sole Survivor

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞

When you were the only one to live, the sole survivor of that massacre, Simon knew he was in trouble. 

He’d found you under the bed. The blood was still congealing over the wooden floors—whoever put you there, Tommy, his mother, Beth, or even his nephew, was all a mystery that no one would ever know the answer to. Yet, the larger question was how you, a baby, had managed to stay silent through it all. 

Simon had picked you up with panicked breath and tears in his eyes as the sirens of the police had gotten closer, holding you to him as you blinked awake and yawned. The bodies of his family were strewn around the floor, broken and bent; murdered. But you. Little you. 

Alive.

It would be best to leave you to be found by the authorities. To go somewhere far away from him and the future that was now stained into his soul—the pact of revenge and horror that would live through him like a brand. It was the right thing to do; the correct thing.

And then he remembers his mother’s eyes, and he’s already rushing to the back window while cradling your squirming body. The rest, of course, passed as the flow of time always did. 

“I’m thinking we should have steak,” your voice pipes up as Simon grabs a bag of crisps from the shelf. Brown eyes blink down at you, balaclava tight to this face. 

“You have steak money?” You were a teenager now, older and figuring life out one day at a time. He hadn’t told you the whole story, and he won’t until much later, but you know enough to a point that you were comfortable with. 

You know your family loved you. 

“You’re the one with the job,” he huffs at you as you utter under your breath. 

“Exactly,” Simon grunts. “Eatin’ me out of house and home like I never feed you.” 

“I,” you point a finger into the air, “am growing. Soon I’ll be just as tall as you, y’know that? I’ll be towering over everyone and giving them that same dead-eyed look that—” brown orbs level with you, unimpressed. You beam, punching his shoulder. “See! That one!” 

“Fuckin’ piss off, would you?” Simon grumbles, moving down to the next aisle in his large and darkly-clothed glory. Your laugh trails after him, feet heavy on his heels. “Givin’ me a headache.” 

You both walk around the Tesco, Simon getting strange looks while a beaming teenager walks beside him talking about supper, class, and anything in between. He offered short responses, sometimes sarcastic and sometimes serious—it depended, but the point was that he did answer you, no matter how pointless the conversation. 

“I think I’m going to join a club this year,” you speak as you gaze at the items your Uncle puts in his basket. A gaze side-eyes you slowly. 

“What, then?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, shoulder bumping into his arm and tilting your head. “Were you in any clubs?”

He grunts, shaking his head before a hand descends to your hair, ruffling it as you hiss in annoyance. “Never had time.” Simon hadn’t told you about his father or what he had done, and God help him if he ever uttered a word about it. That wasn’t something that mattered in your story, just his…he’d never place that weight on you willingly.

You frown as your uncle's arm loops your shoulders casually, keeping you to him as other people walk past you. Brown filters over posture and facial expressions—looking for the barest hint of ill-intent. When there’s nothing, and the forms move around you as easily as they had come, Simon’s attention leaves, and he continues on as if nothing had happened. 

“Try Debate.” Your face turns to him, curious. 

“Debate?” His eyes twinkle, and behind his face covering you immediately find the tell-tale twitch of a smirk. 

“Argue so bloody well you could convince a rookie that a P890 can hold 10 rounds.”

You fight the shocked smile that pulls at your lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Eyes swirl, and a hand squeezes your arm; jostling you slightly. 

“It’s a compliment.”

“You’ve always been shit at those.” You get a firm glare and a grunt from above.

“Fuckin’ language.” Your lips mock his response, making fun of him before he sends a flick of his thumb and forefinger into your temple.

“Hey!” Simon chuckles lowly, walking closer to the front of the store to get ready to pay as you mutter. “Jerk.”

It was a surprise though, that when you had barreled onto your Uncle’s back for an impromptu piggyback ride as payback—which the man didn’t even flinch at, already used to your antics—that the wide eyes of a man with a mohawk met yours. Your head is atop your Uncles, resting there as the lady at the front gives you strange looks from behind the register as Simon places the items in front of her. 

He was gobsmacked, this stranger with his hair all done up like that, and your eyes blink at the display of tags around his neck that mirror your guardians. Broad, yet not so like Simon, and muscled, also, not as much as Simon. 

“Unc?” You ask, and the man below you hums in question, pulling out notes from his wallet absentmindedly. “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”

Simon tenses under you, fingers freezing.

“With the what?” It wasn’t really shocking that no one knew about you besides Price—and the only reason he knew was that in the event something happened to him, Simon had made the Captain swear that you would be taken care of. 

Imagine his horror when his brown eyes darted up only to find them meeting the cobalt blues of his Sergeant, the Scot's hand outstretched to a box of pancake mix with a pack of Irn Bru in the other. 

There’s an immediate sinking feeling in Simon’s chest when Johnny awkwardly tips his fingers in a shocked greeting—eyes flashing up to your curious face before he thins his lips and blinks. 

You wave enthusiastically back. 

“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell.”

[emo-batboy]

A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)

Part 43 (Masterlist)

(Part 44)

Me, to myself: I just think the series was better when I posted several times a week because the pacing felt more natural, and it translates better when people binge it.

Also Me, holding two jobs and a bat: If you try to post once a day again, I will disconnect your head from your shoulders—

@bruciemilf guess who’s back

Anyways, folks! :D So I'm thinking of a new upload schedule where I spend a bit preparing the next ten or so parts then post it all in two weeks? I think that would be fun (and much better for my creative process.)

I’ll be posting the next part very soon :) But it's going to be drastically different from what I've done before. Let’s see if anyone can guess why.

Yada yada don’t die LOVE Y’ALL

[dumplingsjinson]

List of post breakup prompts

“You moved on so quick, didn’t you?”

“I loved you at one point, but I guess those feelings faded with time, and I couldn’t keep you by my side knowing I’d be wasting both of our’s time.” 

“The thought of you moving on from me hurts like nothing else.”

“If there’s one last thing that I want to ask of you, it’s that I’d hope you’d never forget me; that I’d occupy a portion of your mind; even if it’s just a small, small part.”

“Oh, wow. It’s been… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Are you still not over them?” “I don’t think I ever will be.”

“You took such a big piece of me with you and never bothered returning it.”

“It just— it feels like I can never love someone else the way I loved you.” 

“Don’t you dare forget that you left me. So no, I will not take you back. You can go shove it for all I care.” 

“I miss what we used to be; what we used to have.” “You didn’t miss it enough to return my calls though, did you?” 

“How about we sit down, have a cup of coffee and do some catching up? It’s been a long time.” 

“I didn’t lose you. You lost me.”

“Can we do a take two?”

“You were never my happily ever after.” 

“Do you know [name] got shit-faced because of you last night?” “They did what?” “Apparently they miss you or whatever.” 

“You broke up with me, you asshole!” “Yeah, well, I regret doing that!” 

“That’s not how this fucking works. You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and think that I’d be okay with it. It’s been three fucking years. I waited for three fucking years, and when I finally give up on waiting, you decide to come back and fuck things up? You don’t get to do that, you selfish prick.”

“I don’t think I ever really got over you.”

“Do you really think I’m that easy?”

“I wish I hated you. It would make things so much simpler.” 

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation

[stargirlfics]

IRON

got a request awhile back for Battinson + pussy eating and l couldn’t resist!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, size/strength kink, slight exhibitionism, reader is a bit of a brat! smut: oral (reader receiving), manual restraints, praise kink, body worship, mask kink

Word Count: 2.5k

One could hardly say it was your fault. 

Bruce had left you here, in the Tower, all by your lonesome. You couldn’t be to blame, it was simple as that.

Though you didn’t protest his departure (you knew how important his work for the city was, how he’d answer that beacon shining high in Gotham’s stormy skies whenever it appeared) you also couldn’t help but sulk and pout about missing him. 

He could be out there all night and as selfish and indulgent as it was, you had plans, ones that involved as minimal amount of clothing as possible and his lips on yours, these desires being something you had started to tell him when it became clear he was needed in the city tonight instead. 

You could only hope the slight pinching grip of his hands on your waist as he left you with a tender kiss to your cheek meant he wouldn’t forget about your needs. 

It was raining now, just a little under a steady downpour and time seemed to move entirely too slow, barely an hour having passed with your next glance at the large grandfather clock in the foyer.  

Huffing a sigh, you wandered over to the bookshelves lining the alcoves in Wayne Tower’s main room, browsing amongst a few of your favorite novels that had found a new home here before you were pulling one off the shelf and snagging an old throw blanket, heading downstairs to Bruce’s hidden workspace to curl up in your usual spot and wait for his return. 

Funny, how casual this felt, like it was any other weekend night but most people in Gotham weren’t waiting up for the vigilante they called a lover to come home were they? And yet it was exactly where you wanted to be. 

For better or worse you were tied to Bruce and therefore tied to The Batman, swiftly coming to fall for both, to want both and all of who Bruce is, even when he made you worry. 

He promised both you and Alfred that he’d be careful and did every time he went out but he knew you would worry anyways, neither of you asking the other to change, loving each other too much to ask of it. 

Somehow you fashioned another fitting piece to the ever shifting puzzle that was Bruce Wayne and you weren’t going to trade it for the world.

The descent below ground brought a change in temperature, cool chilly air sweeping across your skin once you stepped onto the expanse of the abandoned terminus.

But the familiarity of it and the blanket draped over your shoulders was doing a fine job at keeping you warm, and the sleeping bats hanging above you were a fond presence with how much time you spent down here now. 

You were right at home.

Curled up on the sofa tucked into one of the spare corners in the workspace you chewed at the nail of your thumb, finding that the novel you’d chosen wasn’t helping your antsy, increasingly needy mood. 

The novel bordered on erotic and it made you squirm, heat creeping up from your chest to settle in your cheeks, your thighs pressing together without thought.

Mind wandering, dreaming of a steamy kiss, of being scooped up by him and made to feel good, the ache in your core finally being sated. 

You kept reading into the midnight hour, eventually unable to stop thinking of the details, his towering form, large, strong, and sure hands that gripped and held you so sweetly, so tightly, and how good it felt to be taken apart by him too. 

Bruce was unassuming like that, shy and reserved, awkward even, until he wasn’t, making it a point to discover all the ways he could fluster you, make you whine, and beg for him again and again. 

He was good at it too, had gotten especially skilled with that smart and stubborn mouth of his, and tonight, that’s what you wanted most. 

Wanted to grind yourself against his lips, his tongue, your clit bumping against his nose until your brain went quiet and all you could feel was the pulsing of the pleasure he loved giving you.  

Distracted by your fantasies you almost missed the soft whirring of the terminus gate opening, the book dropping closed in your lap when you realized he was back. 

It was late in the night now, it had been hours but you never felt more energized, letting the blanket pool around your middle as you watched the sleek black muscle car roll in, streaked with rain, the rumble from its engine reverberating against your chest in thrilling comfort. 

You stood up then, stretching out your limbs, a sly smirk threatening to stay on your lips as you watched Bruce step out of the car, his inky black cape draped around him, cowl shiny with moisture, and oh those eyes, shrouded in painted on shadows, his gaze finding yours immediately. 

“Thought you might be in bed by now,” his voice gruff but gentle as he spoke to you, a tone reserved especially for you.

“I considered it but thought waiting up for you here would be a lot better,” an innocent sigh left your lips while you busied yourself with folding the blanket, turning your back towards him, putting a nice little tilt and bend to your hips when you leaned over. 

The heavy footfall of his boots coming closer sent another thrill running up your spine, “Indeed it is, missed me that much, hm?”

Bruce was indulging your antics, always one to entertain your moods, your fantasies, wired on the adrenaline of his late night work in the streets, it made for such a potent mixture and you were delighted. 

“Mhm, cause someone’s skills were needed elsewhere, I had to make due all by myself,” you feigned a pout, trying to hide your smile when you spotted the briefest widening of his eyes at your words. 

He took another step towards you but you skirted away, dodging his hulking figure, the plated armor of his Bat suit still a little intimidating to you, your core clenching around nothing at the thought of being handled by those hands clad in Batman’s gloves, to feel his strength, the brute force in his biceps and forearms, pinning you down to do what he pleased with you. 

It’s all you could think about. 

Maybe it was the heightened level of your desire that made you feel a little bolder tonight, more eager to tease, to get under his ever-so-stoic skin, because you were making your way over to the car now, your hand trailing over its frame, walking, swaying almost till you were standing at the hood of the car, facing Bruce again who’s eyes were fixated on you. 

No words needed to be said as you smiled sweetly, your hands falling to your sides, tracing the edges of the satin slip dress hugging your body, fingers slipping under the hem, dragging it up your thighs a little. 

Chest tightening at his steady, measured steps toward you, one of your hands coming down to swipe over your inner thighs, touching yourself before he could reach you all the way, a giggle slipping out when you heard him grumble in frustration. 

It wasn’t often that you leaned into your brattier tendencies, but tonight, you were in that kind of mood, something sparking low in your tummy seeing him in the cowl, the suit making him appear bigger, taller, and underneath that you knew he had the strength to carry all that gear, to move and fight in it and it made you feel so much smaller in comparison, finding a thrill in pushing buttons. 

“Move your hand, baby.” his command came gently, a warning in itself of sorts, telling you he was going easy on you, giving you a chance to behave. 

Any other night you would have yielded, knowing just how good he could give it to you when you listened to him, but tonight you wanted the less inhibited side of him so instead, you kept your hand between your thighs, fingers finding slick skin with ease. 

“You have to wait your turn, sir,” you flicked your eyes up towards his playfully, heart jumping into your throat at his expression, the tick of his jaw. 

Bruce was pressed against you now, hands moving up to cage you against his chest, your breaths heavier, already losing the battle. 

It was so easy for him to break your tough girl act, knowing full well you were just as desperate as he was, knowing your weak spots and using them to his advantage.

Like now, for instance, using your distracted state to catch you off guard, his hands finding your waist and lifting, placing you up onto the warm, wet hood of his car, a delighted squeak filling the air as he lay you back. 

You were dough in his hands, shaped by the roll and press of his fingers, the weight of them making you whine as he pushed your legs apart, all but growling at your lack of underwear. 

The sight of him settling between your thighs, his body over yours filling your entire field of vision unlocked something for you, your heart beating wildly at the feeling of the suit again your skin, cool droplets of water landing on from the ears of his cowl as he lowered his head to your ribs. 

His lips were warm as they kissed down your torso, his hands keeping your thighs spread out for him, open so his mouth had a clear path to travel down, your breath hitching the lower his mouth went. 

A needy whine slipped out when he stalled, just hovering over where you wanted him most, his huff of laughter making you squirm from sensitivity. 

“Look who can’t wait their turn now…you’re lucky I’m in a generous mood.” Bruce chuckled lowly, catching you by surprise and making you ache for more. 

“Please-oh!” you weren’t too proud to beg, his mouth finally touching down on puffy folds.

The move turned your plea into a moan, hands jerking, slipping on the rain droplets now soaking your dress, grasping anything for purchase as your hips rocked with his movements. 

Curses and half stifled moans filled the air as he buried his face into your heat, his tongue lapping and swirling around your clit, moving further down to taste you properly. 

Your muscles ache from the strain of flexing against him, your body chasing the sensations he was giving you, the building pressure in your abdomen, the way he groans against your pussy, drinking you down, it all made your brain hazy in the best way. 

“Taste so fucking good…fuck.” the words left his lips with ease, finding them easier to come by when he was under the suit, when he was most himself. 

Trembling hands of yours creep down to grasp at his own hands still keeping your thighs held apart wide, and then move down, timidly tugging his head closer, crying out at the change in pressure, all your nerves tingling. 

Something about only being able to catch glimpses of his eyes, the sharp edge of his jawline as he ate you out, and the rest covered by the mask made you open up for him further, your desires reaching no end. 

Your hands pushed at his arms until he caught your wrists, holding them back with one hand, pinning them to your tummy, leaving you panting, unable to help but grind yourself against the patterned flick and swirl of his tongue. 

The added thrill of being so exposed, though this was a private space, how open it seemed, made you feel on display, another wave of heat flooding your body. 

Goosebumps travel down your arms as the cool brush of his free hand caresses your frame, grabbing dewy flesh, feeling your breasts, your waist underneath his grip, loving how you molded to his touch, how perfect you were in his arms. 

He could spend all night like this, making you feel good, pulling those high pitched whines and gasps from your throat, making your thighs tremble like they were doing now. It’s all he could think of, all he could do. 

“Please, please, keep going, yes!” more whimpers fall prettily, your body turning soft and pliant under the sweet pressure of his lips, the way his tongue sweetly nudges inside you, licking your essence, building you up higher and higher. 

Every now and then he’ll slow it down, teasing you just a little for his own self indulgent reasons before heeding your heady whimpers for more, building you back up again, enjoying the way you seemed to drip from his tongue, how he could make such a mess of you. 

He knows you’re close, can tell by the way you flutter around his tongue, can feel the frenzied aching in your limbs as it begins to happen. 

“Come on, let go. Now. Let me feel you,” the assertion in his tone left no room to argue, the gruff, grit out encouragement giving you the final push you needed.

Your orgasm reaches you quickly as his tongue returns to your clit, dragging out the sensations, making you shake even more, almost exhausted by the force of it. 

What a sight this must be, being spread out so sinfully and all for him, something Bruce intended to savor, the fact that you were all his, that rough exterior shedding a little more easily now that he knew he’d given you what you needed. 

His lips were still leaving kisses on your throbbing clit and sensitive inner thighs, staying close, bright eyes peering into yours, wanting the close contact to go on a little longer. 

That was just fine by you, he could have whatever he wanted with the way he just made you feel, and still, amusement twinkling for just a moment in his eyes at seeing you struggle to catch your breath. 

Pushed up onto your elbows now you peer down, cheeks burning again at seeing just how messy you’d become, rain and your arousal damp on your inner thighs, shining around Bruce’s lips and chin.

“God…that was so good, thank you, baby,” your praise and gratitude were soft spoken, holding all the usual affection you had for him, none of your earlier antics remaining. 

You watched him smirk at your content sighs, pulling the cowl off with ease, a practiced move that was second nature now. 

It wasn’t fair that he could look so handsome, rain soaked and hair disheveled, black paint still smudged around his eyes too but it was a look that fit him well and had much too strong an effect on you, feeling the muscles of your thighs jump once more. 

“Anytime. I’m always ready to straighten out that attitude for you, beautiful. Just say the word.” 

Maybe it was the unmistakable glint in his eye or the way he spoke to you then that had you laying back against the car again, trying to hold back whimpers and giggles when he followed close after you, wanting, no needing another taste, needing to see you fall apart again. 

“Think you can be a good girl and keep those legs open for me?” 

“Mhm, just don’t want you to stop, please.” 

“Never…have to make up for all those hours I was gone, right.” 

You shared his sly little smile and lay back for him once more, the searing kisses unleashed upon your still tingling skin dragging you back under, right where you wanted to be, under the skillful fangs of The Bat himself.

————

A/N: Well it had to be done! Cause I can’t be told otherwise, Rob’s Batman eats it like a starved man and I will stand by that! Period! Lol thank you for reading this fun little fic, lemme know what you think! Any and all thirsty comments welcome! 🖤

some tags, no pressure! @flamingdisputes @littlekidsteve @eupheme @saradika @allaboardthereadingrailroad @yelenas-lova @tarrenterror25 @moreofem @squidlywiddly87

[starsarekind]

Trying out some new digital brushes... Steven "summon the suit" Grant

[shabawdy]

thinking what he should write to batman