#Prompt Games

[seasaltandcopper]

Humiliation Prompts

These are all presented as sfw by default (but can be interpreted otherwise if that’s your preference)

Humiliate them by:

♠ Making them beg

♠ Forcing them to strip

♠ Spitting in their mouth

♠ Making them kneel

♠ Dressing them in a degrading outfit

♠ Mocking them for involuntary reactions

♠ Forcing them to lick something off the floor

♠ Hurting them in front of a mirror so they’re forced to watch

♠ Keeping their hands bound to make basic tasks difficult or impossible. Bonus: punish them for failing or making a mess

♠ Feeding them spoiled or disgusting food

♠ Hosing them down with cold water

♠ Calling them a mocking nickname or title

♠ Forcing them to crawl on their hands and knees

♠ Leaving them with obvious, hard to hide scars

♠ Branding them as a sign of ownership

♠ Forcing them to divulge past traumas or secrets

♠ Altering or ruining a part of their appearance they take pride in

♠ Rendering them mute or forbidding them to speak

♠ Making them lick clean someone’s boots/shoes

♠ Assigning them menial labor/chores

♠ Showing them off as a trophy at a party. Bonus: the party is for their enemies OR former allies/coworkers

♠ Offering them up as the entertainment to party guests to do with as they please

♠ Making derogatory comments about them to others (with them in the room/in earshot) Bonus: force them to agree with these assessments

♠ Gifting them as a slave/servant to someone they formerly outranked

♠ Leaving them at the mercy of strangers in a public display (stocks, pillory, cage, chained to something, etc)

♠ Grinding their face into the ground/mud/a mess they made. Bonus: With a foot on the back of their neck or side of their head

♠ Recording them being punished/tortured/etc. Bonus: send these to friends and family OR release them publicly online

♠ Fitting them with a collar

♠ Muzzling them

♠ Making them perform tricks or skills on command

[chrollohearttags]

prompt #6

toxic armin! nd reader are arguing nd when reader talks her shit armin gets turned on nd pulls his dick out nd tells her to “suck on it” making her forget all the shit he did(once again)

and I was JUST thinking about him omg 😫😫 y’all have no idea how much I love toxic!armin. He does sum to meee.

cw: oral, spit play, fingers in the mouth, reader threatening armin bc it’s all he deserves

frustrated. the one word that came to mind when trying to express your emotions right now. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t articulate your words properly, let alone get your point across without becoming completely irate. That’s what happened when you dealt with the likes of armin artlert. A known playboy with a reputation that preceded him. But with all the information you heard from the streets about him dogging all his women, being a cheater and a dumbass, you decided to give him a chance. Under the premise that his ass was gone the second he acted the fool. Unfortunately, things weren’t so simple with him! You could never truly be free of him..whether physically from the fact that no man fucked you quite like he did. Or mentally because he’d blow your phone up and play mind games until you let him back in for a thousandth chance.

“Please…please give me one good reason why I shouldn’t bust you in your shit, Armin. Please give me one.”

“I already told you, angel. I don’t even know that girl…she probably has me confused with somebody else..”

another Saturday night wasted down the drain..where you could put partying with your girls, finding a man worth of a damn, it was being spent pacing the floor of your two bedroom apartment you shared together. Arguing and fussing about a potential side piece as he sat on the edge of the bed. Sprawled out shirtless with nothing but black sweats on. Shaggy blonde hair going everywhere and tattoos on his chest and forearm still vibrant from the lotion he applied after he showered. Despite how fine your man was, you were solely focused on ripping him apart. Pissed off that he had yet again embarrassed you. “So that bitch asked you to suck your dick and she got you confused with somebody else? Nah nigga, the only thing you and her both got..is me fucked up.”

ramping and raving like a mad woman as you poked his forehead with your long acrylics. Folded arms and puffed out jaws like a petulant child and all he could do was stare in adoration for how cute you were. He didn’t want to admit it but the sight of you putting him in his place really got Armin stirred up. Hearing you cuss him for everything he was worth..clapping your hands..he loved seeing you in this aggressive state. Even if it wasn’t healthy. “Playing in my motherfuckin’ face…I’m not one of these other bitches, Armin.” He heard you, loud and crystal clear but he couldn’t be vexed to care. He never did. He never gave a damn about his actions affected you or anyone else. But he’d pretend, so as long as he could get his own gratification..

“I know, baby..they’re nothing like you. That’s why I told you, I don’t even know her ass. You know how many of them are jealous of you? Seriously, who wouldn’t be? Look at you..”

his half assed attempt of mulling over the situation was bombing, until he resorted to desperate measures that is..leaning back, he’d open his legs a bit more and suck his teeth, flashing you a shit eating smirk. One that would undeniably get him his way! Extending an arm out, he’d grasp for your hand and pull you towards him, intertwining those fingers together and placing kisses on the knuckles.

“..shit, I mean…if I’m being honest, you got me thinking about you right now, baby. They can’t do any of the things you can. Can’t love me the way you can, not as beautiful as you are…and damn sure can’t fuck on me the way you do.”

you knew he was only trying to soften you up. Stop you from being angry and as always, that smooth charm and slick demeanor done its job. As he had your eyes adverted to his face, tugging you down gently to your knees for a kiss, his other hand was working to free his erection from its confines. Stiff and seeping with precum, he wanted nothing more than shove it between those pretty, gloss stained lips. But first, he’d shove two fingers between them, letting you suck them and coo to you as he always done. Swiping a finger across your cheek, he knew you were exactly where he wanted you. “Go ahead, baby..suck on it.”

prompting as he guided your head down into his lap. In a matter of seconds, he had those fingers wrapped around his shaft and that tip stuck in your mouth, sloppily sucking on it as you always did. Drumming up strings of saliva in the process and making you drool all over him.

“There you go…good girl. Only you can make me feel like this. Do what these bitches can’t.”

[erisenyo]

“Oh fuck oh FUCK” + Zukka please!

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (And this one too lol)

Zuko isn’t sure what posses him to actually say yes when the last hotel calls back to regretfully confirm that there will be no vacancies tonight and the cute mechanic lets up the truly over-the-top flirting to half-shyly offer Zuko a place to stay that night—

“Well, not my house,” Sokka—not Hakoda, going by the wince when Zuko had called him that, even though that’s what’s embroidered over his pocket—says, tugging on his wolf tail, “It’s my dad’s house. But he’s away!” Sokka says, excited and quickly tacking on when he seems to hear himself, “He’s helping out my Gran Gran! So I’m house-sitting! And keeping this place going—”

He waves a hand around the auto shop, making Zuko intensely curious about what Sokka does if not this all the time. He looks good in those overalls...

Not that Zuko has the chance to ask.

“—and so don’t worry, there’s plenty of space. I’m not suggesting you stay in my room—or, well, actually it is my room, but from when I was a kid, not you know, my room. I don’t live there anymore—”

Zuko wonders where he does live, if it’s close to the band’s recording studio, or any of their homes, and Ty Lee is always renting apartments all over the place maybe Zuko could—

“—but it’s still a totally good room still, like quiet but not creepily so, you know? And you can stay there. Or not! Absolutely no pressure, like obviously if you want to keep calling hotels or I mean I guess we could make up the couch in the office, though I wouldn’t recommend it," Sokka adds, frowning at the couch in question. "You end up with this really weird crick in your—”

“Yes,” Zuko interrupts, "Yes, a place to say would be great," he says, putting Sokka out of his misery. Even though he’s been enjoying the rambling train of Sokka’s thoughts all day, and he really shouldn’t impose, and Zuko might feel comfortable after so many hours of Sokka trying to figure out Zuko’s car but he doesn’t actually know the guy, and—

Sokka breaks into a grin, wide and pleased and clearly delighted and Zuko’s stomach flips the way it’s been doing all day and right. Right. That. That’s why Zuko said yes, even though he knows it’s stupid, even though it would be easier to just ask for the guy’s number even if as a rule Zuko doesn’t give out his own. Even though Mai would take one look at Sokka and give Zuko one of those knowing looks of hers and he hates being so predictable but shit, this guy is such his type.

Which means he’s not disappointed when Sokka says, “Awesome, dude! We can grab burritos on the way back!”

Dude.

And burritos.

But Zuko’s not disappointed, he’s not. He’s…relieved. To have a place to stay tonight that’s not a dubious-looking couch, or the back of his own barely-fits-two-people car. And to not be recognized—not that he ever is—because the last thing he needs on top of his car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, meaning he’s absolutely going to miss his flight—shit, Uncle is going to be so disappointed…—is to be dealing with fans.

Pestering him for info about the rest of the Dangerous Ladies, or trying to sniff out rumors about the relationships they’re all convinced are happening within the band, or hating him for breaking Mai’s heart as if it wasn’t mutual and years ago anyway. and they’re still in the band so clearly it’s fine, Mai didn’t even write that song, and—

And it’s fine. Zuko doesn’t even know what he was worried about in the first place. For someone with a massive facial scar, he's proven shockingly unrecognizable without a flaming guitar in his hands. Which is fine. Exactly how he likes it.

So what if he almost never gets his own posters of magazine covers? So what if he's tucked off to the side or in the back of all the official merch and the band has a running collection of all the albums and magazine covers and t-shirts that inexplicably end up with a price sticker over his and only his face?

It’s better than getting mobbed every time he leaves the house like Azula and getting pelted with rumors like Ty Lee and having his every expression scrutinized like Mai. It's better than having every outfit analyzed and every tilt of his head breathlessly redescribed and every photo and appearance and sighting on the street turned into screenshots and phone backgrounds and gif sets and spank bank material, better than everyone he meets tripping to fall into his bed and—

Really. It’s better.

“Here it is, the humble abode!” Sokka gives Zuko an uncertain flash of a smile as holds open the door, like he thinks someone who drives a Porsche so tricked out Sokka had had to psych himself up to actually touch it is going to judge a well-loved ranch house, which…well. Maybe isn’t such a bad assumption.

Zuko hastily makes sure his expression is set into something attentive and interested, his June is talking face, as Azula calls it.

“You’ve got your kitchen here,” Sokka says, flicking on a light to show the worn, comfortable-looking space. “Glasses are over the sink, snacks are in the fridge and in the tall cabinet if you need anything. There’s some leftovers in the freezer you can reheat, too, if you want. Oven, microwave, all the good stuff, you just, you know. Hit the buttons, and—”

And Sokka is clearly back to nervous rambling, because Zuko doesn’t think he’s going to need to eat for the rest of the week after finishing that burrito. A fucking burrito. Ugh, if there’s ever a less sexy food, and then to eat so much of it nervously pacing Sokka that Zuko actually contemplated whether he could subtly unbutton his jeans in the car…

“…and the bedrooms are this way, and the bathroom—it’s shared, sorry,” Sokka adds, glancing back to give Zuko an apologetic look. Zuko hastily jerks his eyes up off Sokka’s ass. “Probably not what you’re used to, I know. But it’s just you and me, so it won’t be too bad!”

“It’s perfect,” Zuko says, trying for a smile and blinking when Sokka just coughs, a blush staining his cheeks as he quickly gets back to his tour.

“Extra blankets and stuff are here,” Sokka says, rapping on a closed door. “Towels, pillows, the works. There should be some extra shampoo and soap and stuff in there too, if you need it.”

“Sounds like you have everything covered,” Zuko says, hearing the awkward edge of his words but still trying to reach for some of the joking, playful easiness of earlier today. “Quite the full-service auto shop you’re running.”

“Uh…yeah.” Sokka freezes a little, eyes wide, which…great. Zuko isn’t surprised he missed the mark, but still. He thought he’s at least better these days than when Azula firmly told him he was no longer allowed to speak in interviews until he could be sure he wasn’t going to end up in another bloopers reel.

“Anyway!” Sokka finally says, shaking himself, his voice coming out suddenly squeaky, which— “Here’s your room, have a good night, make yourself comfy I’ll seeyoutomorrow!”

Zuko blinks again, nonplussed. Did Sokka just...run away? In his own home?

"That's that then," Zuko sighs ruefully—the flirting had been so outrageous that Zuko couldn’t quite believe it was actually real, so—giving the closed door Sokka had disappeared behind one last look before slipping into his room.

Which is very much a teenager’s room, holy—Zuko nearly laughs as he realizes why Sokka was so quick to make that clear. And a well-lived in one, at that, LEGOs on the shelves and cheap trophies for science fairs lined up across the dresser, half-faded posters and clipped-out pictures tacked over the walls and old art supplies still scattered over the desk.

It's cluttered and eclectic and...cute. Cute in the same way Sokka is cute, and he’d probably hate being called that which just makes Zuko want to do it even more, Zuko’s lips curled again into the little smile he feels like he's been wearing all day as he sprawls back on the neatly-made twin bed and immediately makes eye contact with himself.

On the ceiling.

Shirtless.

Life-sized.

Zuko’s mind immediately supplies the details—that Rolling Stones cover shoot for their third album, right before Zuko had turned twenty, when he was still somehow managing to keep up his martial arts training because who needed sleep, definitely not him. He and Ty Lee had been goofing off while Mai and Azula got their makeup finished, flexing their muscles and trying to out-flexible each other and the photographer had loved it and had them run with it, who could pose the most creatively with the most outrageously flexed muscles and —

Zuko slowly closes his mouth and rapidly reconsiders that whole ‘not recognized’ thing...

--

Sokka is giving his teeth the most thorough, most frustrated brush of his life—ugh, burritos. Why did he suggest burritos—when he nearly chokes on his toothpaste as he suddenly realizes that he just put Zuko Hua in his— “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”

Oh…fuck.

Katara is never going to let him live this down.

He is so, so fucked.

[pixieskie]

smut prompt 62 with scara- "I bet all our neighbours can hear you, I bet they all know what a dirty little slut you are."

-cw: sex, hint of cnc, rough sex, edging, degradation, praise, hint of dacryphilia and masochism. -word count: 0.3k. -a/n: gawd i love writing for scara smm, hope yall enjoy dis.

main masterlist

-prompt game: you can send in any requests for the prompt game here

the bedroom was filled with the sound of your whimpers.

“scara, please i cant take it anymore” you whined, tears starting to cloud your vision.

your boyfriend had been at it for hours now, edging you beyond relief. as for now, he had you on your stomach as he rammed into you.

he only cooed at your words “didn't think about this while you were teasing me hm?” he continued thrusting into you.

trailing his fingers over your stomach, he felt his bulge inside you "such a perfect little whore for me". He trailed his fingers until they reached your head and pulled you back by your hair, making you look at him.

a sharp moan escaped your lips as you look at him. you could only squirm and babble nonsense as he rammed into you relentlessly.

his hand left your hair and gripped your neck “i bet all our neighbours can hear you, i bet they all know what a dirty little slut you are.” he uttered between thrusts. “gonna cum for me doll?”

you nodded while biting down on your lower lip in an attempt to contain your lewd noises while his other hand made its way to your clit and circled it.

this was enough to snap the knot in your stomach. your legs shook as you let out a loud moan. your boyfriend let go of your throat, allowing your head to fall on the pillow but he kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he helped you ride out your high. “that's it darling, so tight for me.. so perfect” 

[mickittotheman]

Hello can I ask for gallavich + 36 for the kisses prompt? Thank you 😄

Hello!!! Yes yes of course!

36. ...to give up control

Mickey didn't think the whole kiss thing would be a big deal.

Well, okay, scratch that. He’d known it would be a big deal. It had been a big deal. Had been a huge fucking deal and had left his heart racing and his lungs hitching and his lips tingling for hours afterwards, even through the chaos of getting shot in the fucking ass. 

But it wasn’t like– it wasn't some big thing. He just did it to prove a point, to prove he could, to get a one up on that creepy ass pedo hanging around Ian and taking him on dates and ordering him fucking room service. 

Except now he hasn’t been able to get it out of his head since. And he hasn't seen Ian since. And he’s kinda driving himself fucking insane.

It wasn't even an actual proper fucking kiss. No tongue action, no biting, no hot and heavy groaning. Just their lips smashed together awkwardly in the driveway of that fuckwad’s house, Mickey’s brothers just yards away. If that had been enough to get Mickey this worked up, what the fuck will it be like when they kiss for real?

If they kiss for real.

They probably will.

Fuck.

Mickey gets all tangled up in himself, the way he always does when it comes to stupid shit like this, stuff that shouldn’t mean anything but actually means everything and could absolutely get him killed but actually makes him feel more alive than he’s ever felt. He’s jittery when he goes in for his shift– the first one he’s working since being shot (again). He jumps at the sound of the bell chiming above his head. Tenses as he sees Ian’s head whip around towards the door.

“Mick!”

Mickey makes some non-committal grunting sound and beelines towards the donut case.

For the first few hours, it's fine. Ian doesn't bring it up, doesn't even hint at it. He’s got way bigger shit going down with his family to deal with. The stupid kiss probably isn't even a blip on his radar.

They end up in the freezer like they always do. They can’t fuck with Mickey’s bullet wounds, but he gets Ian off with his hands and Ian gets him off with his mouth, and it’s not as good as fucking but it gets the job done.

After, as they’re both grinning and panting and getting their belts situated, Ian tries to kiss him.

When Mickey pushes him away, it’s more out of habit than anything. He flushes, feeling stupid as hell, but Ian’s already smiling sheepishly and pulling away.

“Sorry. Should probably brush my teeth or something, huh?”

Mickey shrugs at him. Gnaws at his lower lip. Feels his breath hitch as Ian’s gaze darts down to his mouth.

Ian turns away and heads back up front.

+++

It keeps happening. The second time Mickey pushes him away–( when Ian tries to give him a fucking goodbye kiss like they’re fucking boyfriend and girlfriend)– Ian goes all quiet and sullen and mopey. 

The third time, he gets pissed. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

They’re in the freezer again. They’d only just stumbled in. Up until a second ago, Ian had been pressed up against him, hands groping every part of Mickey he could reach.

“What?” Mickey snaps, cheeks burning against the cold air, scowl firmly in place. He didn't even push him away this time! He made sure he didn’t, made damn well sure to keep his reflexes on lockdown, but he must have let some little twitch or flinch slip through the cracks because now Ian’s pulling back to glare at him.

“I am such an idiot,” Ian mutters. Mickey is inclined to agree. “I should have known better.”

Mickey bristles. “The fuck are you going on about now?”

“Oh please, you fucking know–”

Mickey gathers his wits and his guts and shuts him up with a kiss.

Ian tenses, then melts, lips softening under Mickey’s, bigass hands coming up to slide through Mickey’s hair. 

Mickey’s breath hitches. He lets out this weird little noise. He pulls back.

Ian’s lips chase after his, and Mickey flinches, and just like that Ian’s tense again. “Stop doing that–”

“I’m not fucking flinching like a little bitch on purpose–”

“Not that,” Ian scoffs. He tightens his fingers in Mickey’s hair when Mickey tries to pull away. “Stop kissing me just to prove a fucking point!”

“I thought you wanted me to kiss you–”

“I want you to want to kiss me! I want it to mean something! Instead you’re just using it to– to– to try and fucking gain control–”

“Jesus fucking christ, Ian, stop being such a girl!”

Ian huffs and pulls away, and he’s right, he is an idiot, because how can he not fucking get it?

“It’s not– I’m not–” Mickey cuts off with a low growl. Scrubs hard at his mouth, trying to force the words out, because he knows he can barely fucking offer Ian anything but he’s gotta at least give him something. “When I– When I kiss you, or whatever,” Mickey starts again, skin hot and face flushed and every bone in his body protesting, “I’m not tryna fucking control you.”

There’s more he could say. Like how every time he kisses Ian he’s giving up the meager amount of control he has, how that fucking scares him and exhilarates him and maybe that makes him a pussy but its the fucking truth, how he’s trying, really fucking trying, and he needs Ian to see that.

He doesn't say any of that shit. But he thinks Ian gets it anyways.

Ian stares at him for a long moment with that weirdass intense look he sometimes gets in his eyes. “So you do want to kiss me?”

Mickey rolls his eyes and tries not to squirm. “The fuck do you think?”

“And you want me to kiss you?”

Mickey shrugs. Nods, just once, the movement sharp and short and jerky.

Ian squints at him for another eternity before taking a deep breath. He brings his hands up slow, works his fingers into Mickey’s hair again, and when he leans in Mickey still flinches except this time Ian doesn’t stop. He seals their lips together, steady and sure, and doesn’t give Mickey more than a split second to adjust before darting his tongue out.

Mickey gasps, just a bit. It’s enough to give Ian the leeway he needs to work Mickey’s mouth open further.

Holy fuck.

Mickey gets his hands on Ian’s hips to wrench him closer. Ian retaliates by yanking on Mickey’s hair, tugging until Mickey’s head is angled just right, and Mickey has to pull back enough to suck in a sharp breath. 

“Fuck, Mickey,” Ian hums. “You taste so fucking good.”

Mickey sincerely fucking doubts that– knows for a fact that his mouth tastes like cigarettes and burnt coffee and the chocolate bar he scarfed down earlier– but then Ian bites down hard on Mickey’s lower lip and Mickey loses his train of thought.

And maybe kissing ain’t such a big fucking deal afterall. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a huge fucking deal.

send me a number~

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

@mlgssy asked for the prompts "Those rumors about us are getting annoying. How many times do we have to tell them we aren’t together?" and "Come back to bed." for Fred/Kelly (and you all know how much it pains me to write some Fred/Kelly) from a few different prompt lists that I didn't actually recognize, but they looked like a lot of fun.

So anyway! Here goes.

---

Olivia-G291 bounced nervously on the balls of her feet out in the hallway. She had been tasked with what was probably the most dangerous mission of her life, and it took a few moments to amp herself up and get enough courage to actually go through with it.

After several moments of hemming and hawing, the young woman finally decided that enough was enough. It was time to bite the bullet - hopefully only figuratively - and get things done. With only a slight tremor, she lifted her hand and knocked gently on the door to the quarters she had been squatting outside for nearly twenty minutes now.

It took exactly forty-eight seconds for the door to slide open a few inches. "It's 0230," came the gruff voice of Kelly-087 from in the dark recesses of her personal quarters. "What do you need?"

O swallowed nervously. "Ash and Mark had a question for the LT," she said, quieter than she had meant to. Her palms were sweaty and her throat was suddenly very dry.

Kelly poked her head out of the door to raise one eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Her hair dangled loose, for once not in her signature ponytail, and the blue-dyed ends shone in the fluorescent hallway lights. "If you're looking for Fred, why are you at my door?" she demanded.

O swallowed again. "Well, he wasn't answering at his quarters, and he wasn't in the gym or the cafeteria, so we figured - well, Ash figured, really - that he might be..." she was jabbering now. For someone who had such a skill for silence, she couldn't seem to shut up at this point. "Well, I told Ash that he should come knock, since it was his question, but he told me that I'm the only one that Fred wouldn't kill tomorrow morning if I happened to interrupt you two. You see, he seems to think that I'm Fred's favorite, which is ridiculous because-"

"Enough," Kelly said firmly. O found herself very grateful for the excuse to actually close her mouth. "First," Kelly said, raising a finger to count her points, "Fred isn't here. Second, of course you're his favorite, don't be ridiculous. And third, those rumors are starting to get annoying. How many times do we have to tell you that there is nothing going on between he and I? Honestly, it's-"

Kelly fell silent when the distinct sound of a tired groan echoed out from the room behind her.

O, momentarily forgetting her abject fear of the older Spartan in favor of her ravenous curiosity, leaned forward slightly to try to get a peek into the room. "Was that...?"

"It was nothing," Kelly answered sharply. The look in her electric blue eyes dared O to challenge her.

O did not take that dare.

"Kelly come back to bed, it's cold," Nothing rumbled, its voice sounding shockingly similar to what O imagined one Lieutenant Junior Grade Frederic-104's voice might sound like if he were woken up in the middle of the night, his voice rough and his mind slightly disoriented from sleep.

Kelly's head drooped and she sighed dejectedly, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "I don't know why I bother," she muttered under her breath.

The younger Spartan took a step back, her hands raised. "Well, I think I'll just... go tell the others that he wasn't here," she said quickly, already turning and jogging back the way she had come.

Kelly didn't answer; she just retreated into her quarters and slid the door shut behind her.

[three-drink-amy]

Ooooooh, a FirstPrince ice cream shop AU, vacation/summer vibes?

xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes

Oooh this is so fun! Thanks for the ask!

1) Alex works in an ice cream shop by the beach and he usually hates it until there’s a new customer who comes in and is the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen.

2) Alex starts trying to take breaks around the time Henry stops in. (Henry keeps coming back to see Alex)

3) They never share details about their personal lives but find lots of mutual interests.

4) Alex gives Henry shit for his boring ice cream tastes.

5) After two weeks of seeing Henry almost every day, Alex assumes Henry is going to leave soon and gets really sad. When Henry finally pulls this out of him, he laughs at him and says, “Alex, I’m a lifeguard on this beach.” Naturally, Henry keeps coming back.

Send me an AU prompt and I’ll tell you 5 things that would be in it!

[crazyunsexycool]

Hello everyone!!!

Here is my reader appreciation ask game!!!!

Rules:

Please select a prompt from the list below. Make sure to add the actual prompt into the ask.

Select one of my current series pairings, ex: My Little Love Bucky x Sugar, Heart Munition Steve x Reader

Send as many asks and prompts as you want

Please like, comment and reblog it would mean the world to me!!!

Send asks from May 6th - May 11th

Lastly I want to thank everyone that’s followed, liked, commented and reblog he’d anything I’ve written. You don’t know how much it means to me that you’ve taken time out of your day to read anything I’ve written. I’d also like to take a moment to shout out a few people that have interacted constantly with my fics:

@talesofadragon @brilliantdumb @goldylions @jvanilly @ozwriterchick @vicmc624 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @kandis-mom and whoever my nonnies are that always send me great questions and scenarios. You know who you are and I appreciate all of the asks!! 💛💛

Prompt list:

Romantic non-sexual prompts

Pregnancy prompt

Cute interaction

Hand holding

Relationship milestones

Lover being hurt

Soulmate AU

Shoutout to @creativepromptsforwriting for all of these amazing prompt lists!!

[bekkachaos]

For the writing prompt - #5 for Malex please ☺️☺️

5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Deep Sky didn't get many new recruits, but when they did, they were obviously brilliant in one way or another.

The newest team member, a twenty-something classical physicist named Ash, had been labelled somewhat of a prodigy and after a rocky initiation, fit right in.

Not only was he somewhat of a human calculator but he had a quick witted nature about him that everyone seemed to love.

He and Alex got along very well. They bounced ideas off one another and were usually on a very similar wavelength when it came to their thoughts, so when the two of them came together on a project they usually got a lot further than others had in half the time.

Alex sat on the couch at home, the dregs of a glass of wine sat on the coffee table as Michael walked over with a glass of whiskey and the last of the bottle to top up Alex's glass. He had been regaling a story from earlier in the day about some piece of technology they had been tinkering on together, his mouth drawn up in a smile as he explained the way he watched Ash work and how Eduardo had started to joke that they were sounding like an old married couple.

"Honestly, I was never that smart at his age," Alex said as Michael put down the empty bottle and slotted in beside him so that he could put his arm around his shoulders. "I think it should probably be illegal. He just gets this crazed look on his face when he's onto something, although today that led to him nearly electrocuting himself."

He chuckled as he looked back at Michael who just nodded, smiling with just his lips and eyebrows before he took a drink from his own glass.

"Sounds like fun," he said dryly, making Alex narrow his eyes at him curiously.

"Okay, what's with the mood?" he said, making Michael shrug in that infuriating way he did when he was about to make Alex guess what was going on in his brain.

"No mood," he said.

"There's a mood, or, you know, thoughts happening in there," he smirked, making Michael roll his eyes.

"No thoughts," he shrugged again, and Alex chuckled and rolled his eyes. "I mean I've just been sitting here listening to you talk about spending all day with some guy, but no, no real thoughts."

"I've been talking about the project, Guerin," Alex shook his head. "Ash is helping me with that so he's probably going to come up. What have you got against him? You didn't mind him when you came in to drop me some food last week."

"Never said I had anything against him," he said, smirking back at Alex and nudging his shoulder with his chest. "Have you? Had anything against him?"

He was teasing, in tone, but Alex knew Michael well, enough to know the way he was tensing his body up, deflecting with jokes and an arrogant curl of his mouth. It was the same posturing he did when he became defensive, protective, and one other thing.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Michael squirmed a little, scoffing with a roll of his eyes.

"Of that scrawny kid?" he said, snorting derisively and making Alex bite his lip to stop from laughing.

"You're the same build as he is."

"You noticed that huh?"

"Michael," he said with an exasperated sigh, putting his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "If you find him attractive well that's on you, don't bring me into it."

"So you don't then?" Michael asked, that antagonistic smirk still glued to his mouth.

"Honestly? I haven't noticed," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I don't notice those things anymore. If you asked then yeah, objectively I could say he's an attractive guy. But I'm not attracted to him."

Michael let out a sigh through his nose, his lips faltering a moment as he gave away the facade, putting his glass down on the table and letting his hand rest on Alex's knee.

"So you don't need to be jealous, of him, or anyone else," he said, reaching out to press his palm to Michael's chest, sliding it up and over the crook between his shoulder and neck.

And then the smirk was back, a shrug of his shoulders as he slid his hand further up Alex's thigh, over his hip and slipping his fingers under the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't worry, I'm not," he said, leaning in until he could place a soft kiss under Alex's jaw, his head tilting up willingly to give him the space to crowd him closer. "I mean, can that guy do this?"

He mumbled the words into his skin, chasing them down with his tongue, then his lips, his hand rising higher under Alex's shirt until he was slowly pulling back so that Alex could raise his arms and be stripped out of it.

Michael's arrogant smirk was replaced by parted lips and hungry eyes, making Alex roll his eyes as he let Michael shift him so that he had one leg on the couch and the other on the floor, a perfect fit between them for Michael to settle.

"Nah, he just gets the science and that little wrinkle you get when you think too hard," he grinned, making Alex chuckle and drop his head back a moment.

"You're an idiot," Alex said as Michael leant in over him.

"You're in love with an idiot," he smiled, leaving a soft kiss against Alex's lips. "What does that say about you?"

send me a pairing and a prompt from this list 💕

[readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure]

Headcanon Alphabet Game

So, I have been really slack with my fanfic writing so I though it might be time for a prompt game of sorts. This is not a fanfiction game, I'm afraid, so no short ficlets; it's for headcanons only. But on the plus side, that means I'll be able to do more of them.

Below the cut is an alphabetized list of subjects as well a list of characters. All you have to do is send me a letter and a character name, and I'll tell you my headcanon for that combination. If you have specific questions or scenarios in mind about your chosen subject (e.g "What would this character do if this happened?"), feel free to add them, but you don't have to if you don't want to.

One character and one letter per ask, please. But there's nothing to stop you sending multiple asks😉(EDIT: Please use the ask box)

A - Anniversary B - Bondage C - Children D - Dates E - Emotions F - First time G - Gifts H - Hugs I - Insecurities J - Jealousy K - Kisses L - Love confessions M - Mornings in bed N - Nicknames O - Oral sex P - PDA (Public displays of affection) Q - Quickie R - Revenge S - Sexual fantasies T - Turn on/turn offs U - Unrequited love (or assumed unrequited love) V - Vanity W - Wedding X - X-Ray (what's under the clothes) Y - Yearning Z - Zzzz (sleeping habits)

Characters:

Billy Russo (The Punisher)

The Darkling (Shadow and Bone)

Logan Delos (Westworld)

Caspian (Chronicles of Narnia)

Benjamin Greene (Gold Digger)

Dhawan!Master (Doctor Who)

[chrollohearttags]

3, 5, 7, 8, 12, & 14

they all don’t have to be in the same story but that was the most i could narrow down 😭

oh no, these are perfect! Thank you bae 🤭 just gave me a good idea with this!

cw: hotel sex, dirty talk, choking

“And you told me you weren’t gonna come see me…what happened?”

“Well, turns out..what they said was true. You really are one of the best voices of our generation..your shows are actually pretty entertaining.”

words and glances exchanged between two secret lovers in the middle of the hotel room. Bodies only inches away from one another and lust rising from your auras like steam from a hot shower..this was the scene that reoccurred and played out so many times in the not so distant past. Messing around with and becoming the sneaky link to a world famous musician wasn’t something you’d ever foreseen yourself doing. You knew the industry types all too well and how they collected girls of your variety like the awards they accrued from their labors. Even still, the attraction between (y/n) and EJ The Don was one that could only be described as fiery, passionate and whirlwind. The two of you had quite a long conversation the other night and he could tell by the end that you were playing to hard to get; not wanting to give him too much as other girls had done prior. When asked if you’d come see him perform while he was on tour, you’d respond dryly with a: “we’ll see.” Of course, he knew you were merely giving him the cold shoulder just so he could have a bit of a motivation to make it impossible for you to leave later on. Faint traces of his cologne and weed smoke hit your nostrils as he leaned forward and brushed over your arms.

“I’m glad you think so…and I’m very..very glad you showed up. I mean, I saw you dancing around. Looking all good and shit.”

the compliment making your heart flutter; feeling him run a finger underneath your chin and licking his lips. Currently, he had you up against the wall, kneecap nudging open those thick thighs that were exposed by the revealing fishnet dress you were sporting. Tall heels supporting that curvy body and all he could think about was how you lucky he was to have you on his roster. Hell, he’d clear up all his prior engagements if he got to fuck on you all the time. Batting those pretty little lashes, you’d gaze up at him and move closer.

“Yeah? You think I look good?”

questioning with only a hair’s breadth in between you two. That pearly white smirk on his face, chain hanging from his around his neck and two silver bands on his tattooed fingers as he cupped them around your chin. He couldn’t get enough..he craved you so badly, he could practically taste it. But luckily, he wouldn’t have to wait too long to do so. You were all alone, in private and free to express all the filthy thoughts plaguing your minds. Cupping your beautiful face between his fingers, Eren would tease his lips against yours before initiating a series of steamy kisses. Smacking your tongues and twirling them together.

“Of course..but I think you’d look so much better with my hands around your neck..” “You might be on to something.” lightly asphyxiating your breathing as he fed you those sloppy pecks. Ones that had you melting in his grasp and made it even easier to get you out of your clothes. “EJ..” “I know, baby. I know you want me to fuck you..you’ve been so patient with me.” One by one, he’d strip you of those tiny little articles of clothing until both of you were rendered nude. Ravaging one another like wild animals until he hoisted you mid air, prompting you to put your arms around his neck. Holding you in those toned, tattooed arms. And once you did, he’d begin to bounce you up and down on that thick cock. Slamming up into you with full force..dripping wet only a few strokes in. Your nails clawing into his back and those balls slapping against your entrance. Creaming all down his cock and making a mess everywhere. Something you had been waiting on for a while.

“Ooh shit!…”

“God..you feel so fucking good. This pussy’s ‘s so good.” Grunting into your ear like a man deprived. That dick swelling inside of you and stretching that entrance open. You’d find yourself burying your face into the crook of his neck and moaning out for more. “No, don’t look away..keep your eyes on me. Let me see how much you love this dick.”

[erisenyo]

"could you please come and get me?" I'm BEGGING🙏🙏🙏

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (Andthis one too lol)

(Can be read as a follow-up to this)

“…and, like, everyone goes through phases!”

Hakoda hastily unfolds from his very undignified stretch at the muffled sound of Sokka’s voice, wincing at the protest of his sore back. Bato keeps saying he’s eventually going to value his posterior chain enough to stop taking red eyes no matter how cheap they are, and one day Hakoda is actually going to listen instead of making jokes about posteriors.

“—and sisters, you know? They never let go of anything no matter how old you all get, and they always take things too far—”

Hakoda glances again around the dim lit, tidy shop as if maybe the angle of the sunlight will have changed, vaguely pleased and surprised that Sokka is here so early as the faint jangle of the admittedly-huge keyring filters through the door.

It’s hours past when they usually open, of course, but judging by the timing of Sokka’s late-night-scarfing-down-dinner phone calls, he’s been working plenty past when they usually close.

“—not in a creepy way or anything, obviously. Just a joke. A bad one!”

Not that Hakoda was really worried. And he was right to now really worry! There’s nothing blown up, no scorch marks or tools missing because Sokka really needed a good shearing weapon for his robot-killing robot, no half-deconstructed engines and piling-up repairs because Sokka is sure he’s figured out a way to get more efficiency out of the whole system.

“—and that one is totally new, anyway. I had no idea it was even there! And so, um. High definition.”

Those this Audi sitting in the middle out of the shop, which is very out of place for Wolf Cove to begin with, let alone in Hakoda’s shop…

“And I mean, you know how sisters are!”

Hakoda does have some questions about that.

That Jesk kid better not be involved, or whatever his name was...

“Or—right?” Sokka’s voice is suddenly clear as he finally finds the right key to unlock the office door. “You—maybe? I mean—you—or—”

“Yeah,” a husky, raspy voice cuts in, faintly amused, and Hakoda pauses in surprise as he realizes Sokka isn’t on the phone. “I have a sister.”

Hakoda glances curiously through the office window as Sokka flicks the lights on, bright light illuminating the office and the break room and the car bays one by one, revealing his son—dressed for work, not starving, not injured, good—and the lean, black-on-black clad boy behind him, and Hakoda feels his eyebrow jump up in surprise.

Ah. He recognizes a pretentiously pre-worn designer leather jacket when he sees one. That would be where the car came from, then.

“And,” Sokka hurries on, darting nervously around the office as he wakes up the computer and sets down his coffee and Hakoda’s other eyebrow slides up to join the first. He can recognize Sokka’s cover-his-ass voice anywhere. “It’s not like I would recognize you out of context anyway without, you know. Or with, or—and so, like, it's not like I was being weird or anything, or like, trying to lock you in the basement or something, or—fuck.” Sokka scrubs his hands over his face before pasting on a bright, game smile and marching toward the car bays. “Yeah, I’m just going to stop talki—Dad!”  

“Sokka,” Hakoda greets him, giving the other boy—not a boy, Sokka hates being called a boy, he reminds himself—a curious look. “And…?”

“Oh,” the boy blinks, freezing a little. “Uh—”

“I didn’t realize you were coming back,” Sokka hops in, hurrying over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to grab a few things from the house, see you and Katara a bit,” Hakoda assures him, reaching out to give Sokka’s shoulder a squeeze and offering a smile to the other boy as he trails Sokka after a moment across the shop floor. “Who’s this?”

“How’s Gran Gran?” Sokka asks as the boy hesitates, mouth half-open.

“She’s doing well, things are coming along,” Hakoda says, cocking his head to get a better look at the boy. He’s definitely familiar—not surprising, with those nearly-gold eyes and scar and the kind of cheekbones that Sokka loves to trip over—but Hakoda can’t quite place… “Are you one of Sokka’s college friends?” Shit, Hakoda should know those. He at least knows it isn’t…what was his name, Tamu? It’s definitely not him…

“Ah, no,” the boy says, shifting on his feet and flicking a quick look to Sokka. “Wh—"

“How long are you back for!” Sokka says over top of him, eyes wide with interest and that’s definitely his cover-his-ass voice again…

“Just a few days,” Hakoda says absently. Is it one of Sokka’s high school band buddies? They used to always be hanging around the basement and crowding into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen around town,” he says slowly, the sense that he knows this kid niggling at the edge of his thoughts.

“…No,” the kid agrees after a beat, equally slow.

“Yeah,” Sokka says quickly, voice coming out high. “He’s not from around here!”  

“This is your car?” Hakoda asks, because the kid might not look much like a trombone players but he does look like a speed demon.

“Uh, yeah,” the kid says, glancing at the sleek red lines where Sokka’s set the Audi out with pride of place dead center in the middle of the shop. “Sorry?”

“Sorry?” Hakoda blinks, momentarily distracted from the nagging familiarity of the kid.

“I broke down,” the kid shrugs, apologetic, and Hakoda can only give him a bemused look.

“It’s what we’re here for,” he says. And they’re certainly going to charge him for it, with a car like that—and Hakoda will be making sure he’s charged. He recognizes that look on Sokka’s face…

“Right!” Sokka says, overly bright. “Car repair!”

“A full-service operation,” the kid murmurs, cutting Sokka a sideways look.

“We strive to be,” Hakoda says proudly, giving Sokka his own curious look as his son chokes a little, blushing. Oh yeah. Hakoda is definitely making sure this kid gets charged.

“Car repairs!” Sokka says loudly, clearly powering through…whatever is going on. “We’ve had a lot of those! Want to—” he glances quickly around. “—the books! Want to see them? Or the—I can get you up to speed?” he suggests half-desperately. “On everything?”

Hakoda makes a vaguely affirming noise, listening with half an ear and mostly watching the kid who is in turn watching Sokka, looking faintly bemused by and more than a little curious about Sokka’s immediate, exhaustive, relieved, highly detailed account of the past month.

Maybe he’s a new teacher in one of Sokka’s art classes? He thought they were all old men by Sokka’s description, but this one seems like an artsy type. Though why he’d be here and not back in Republic City…

The kid gives Sokka another sidelong look through his lashes that really isn’t all that subtle to anyone other than Sokka, and ah, that could be a reason.

And he can tell Sokka likes his friend back from the fidgety, half-nervous, half-hyper way he’s shifting his weight and playing with his bracelets and rings and he better be fucking taking those off before work, Hakoda’s not trying to have anyone lose a damn body part inside an engine. At least the earrings are out…

Hakoda thinks, though, that he really would have heard of the kid if he’s following Sokka cross-country to keep him company. But then, maybe that’s why he has the persistent, nagging sense that he’s met or at least seen this kid befo—

“Oh!” Hakoda suddenly exclaims, snapping his fingers as realization hits. “I know you!”

“You—!” Sokka trips a little as the kid startles, giving Hakoda a half-surprised, half-cagey look. “You should really hear about theorderthatPakkutriedto—”

“You’re the boy from the poster over Sokka’s bed!” Hakoda says, triumphant and Sokka cuts off with a high, strangled noise, the kid opening his mouth and nothing coming out.

“The one where’s he’s all shirtless and oiled up?” Hakoda prompts when Sokka doesn’t say anything, pleased to have placed it. “Remember, you got that fancy photo editing program for it? So you could cut him out of the full shot and enlarge the size? And Bato took you to that special print shop in Whale Harbor to get it done out on the special poster paper?”

The kid slowly transfers his stare from Hakoda to Sokka, who is looking more and more like a deer trying to freeze to avoid the notice of an oncoming car.

“You know, for your eighteenth birthday?” Hakoda reminds him, concern fluttering in his chest when Sokka doesn’t immediately latch onto the topic like he always does. “Because you couldn’t find any magazines big enough to see from that far away?” He definitely isn't misremembering, he knows he isn't...right?

The kid slowly closes his mouth, eyebrow inching up higher and higher.

“And you’d filled up all your wall space, so you needed to move to other surfaces? And Katara said you weren’t allowed to put anything up in the shower?” No, he's definitely right. Hakoda had been quietly and intensely relieved by the shower edict enough to be sure.

“I,” Sokka finally says, mouth working, “I, uh.”

“Didn’t you recognize him?” Hakoda frowns, reaching out to feel Sokka’s forehead.

“Yeah, Sokka,” the kid—shit, Hakoda still doesn’t know his name though—says, pointed, “Didn’t you recognize me?”

“I…need to go now,” Sokka announces, suddenly fumbling in his pockets.

“What?” Hakoda blinks, confusion threading alongside his pleasure at finally placing the face.

“What?” the kid half-laughs, startled.

But Sokka just whips out his phone, already marching away, his face crimson and voice echoing off the high ceilings, “Katara? Yeah, I’m—yeah, I’m still in town. Yes, I know that you're on nights, I—yes, I—look, could you please come and get me?” A pause. “No, I—actually, yes. I need to go die now, please. Not here.”

Hakoda stares after Sokka as he finally shuts the office door behind him, bemused, scratching the back of his head and shifting his attention to the kid who looks like he doesn’t know whether to worry or laugh again.

“Well, I’m Hakoda,” he eventually offers, extending his hand and biting the bullet that it’s okay to not know this one’s name, they probably haven't actually met before, “I’m his father.”

“Zuko,” the kid says after a beat, accepting his handshake—strong grip, callouses, no eye contact but that’s okay considering he’s looking after Sokka. “I’m, uh. The guy from the ceiling?”

Hakoda huffs, half-amused and giving him another quick look—and then his hand a slightly harder squeeze. “Grown up a bit, have you?” A lot less oil, too. And a lot more clothes.

Same cheekbones, though.

“Uh—so has he? Since then?” Zuko hazards, glancing toward the office where Sokka is…screaming into a pillow, by the looks of it.

“One could say that," Hakoda says after a beat, thinking of Sokka’s last trip to Whale Harbor and the poster tube he’d come back with happily cradled in his arms. “But maybe not as much as you’d think.”

[pixieskie]

Hey so i’m not sure if your still doing the game you said you were doing but just hear me out #9 on Xiao😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 The "I don't care how good it feels…" one! Absolutely going feral on it! Xiao just being mean in general had me going crazy

˖˚˳⊹"I don't care how good it feels, you'd better not cum until I tell you to." ˖˚˳⊹

-word count: 0.3k -warnings: nsfw, grinding, slight edging, not proofread

main masterlist

it was almost unbearable for xiao to ignore the way you skillfully rocked your hips against his clothed crotch, making him go insane.

his hands held your hips while his nails dug into you, decorating your figure with crescent marks. he bit his lips as he grinned, enjoying the view of you grinding on him, suddenly moaning out as you pressed down harder.

his hands moved from your hips to your neck, pulling you towards him for a kiss as you continued rocking your hips, moaning into his mouth and grasping at his hair.

his lips continued onto your jaw and neck, leaving butterfly kisses until he found a spot to mark up. 

you whined as he nipped at your skin with his teeth and sucked on the spot “let everyone know that youre mine” he marked up your neck as you were getting closer to climax and so was he. 

you bucked your hips involuntarily, letting xiao know that you were close “xiao.. i-im close”

"I don't care how good it feels, you'd better not cum until I tell you to."

you whined softly against his lips, grinding harder and feeling his cock twitch. he was close too but you wouldn't dare cum until he let you. 

you pulled back from his lips as you hid your face into his neck and begged for him to let you release while he just groaned as his head fell back and his hands took place on your ass.

“go on, cum for me love” 

you can send in any requests for the prompt game here

[mickittotheman]

Perhaps 3 (forehead kisses) for gallavich?

Most people make their most stupidass decisions when they’re drunk. Not Mickey. Mickey makes his when he’s sober, when there’s not alcohol clouding his mind and slowing his thoughts and drowning out the fucking urges he gets at the most randomass times.

Like right now.

Mickey isn’t drunk, but Ian sure as fuck is. He’d been doing some stupid fucking drinking game with Mandy. Mickey’s been listening to them giggling and shrieking like the schoolgirls they are for hours now, the music blasting from his speakers not enough to drown them out, not when he’s deliberately sitting with his back pressed up against the door of his room so he can hear them better.

He’s just keeping an ear out to make sure Ian doesn’t say anything stupid. Doesn't let anything slip about him. About them.

Ian doesn’t. Mickey isn’t sure why that pisses him off just a little bit.

He waits until a good half hour after the giggling has faded out. Creeps his way into the dimly lit hall. Pokes his head into Mandy’s doorway.

They’re both fast asleep. Mandy’s hogging all the blankets, because she’s a selfish bitch who always hogs the fucking blankets, awake or not. 

Mickey rolls his eyes. Swipes at his nose.

He snags a random quilt from the living room and heads back, careful not to step on the squeaky floorboard near the foot of Mandy’s bed. He gets her sorted first, because he’s a good fucking brother like that, no matter how vehemently his siblings and he himself would disagree if asked. 

He unclasps her necklaces so she won’t get strangled to death in her sleep. He pushes her hair out of her face so it won’t tickle her nose in that way she’s always hated. He kisses her forehead, soft, just like he has since she was nothing but a tiny little pink burrito of bundled up blankets that would scream and scream and scream her little lungs out every waking moment.

She hasn’t changed all that much since she was a baby, really. 

He deals with Ian next. Rolls him into the recovery position, because he doesn't sleep on his side like a normal fucking person, he sleeps sprawled out on his back like a fucking starfish. Ian doesn't so much as twitch as Mickey shoves and pokes and prods at him. 

He drapes the quilt over him, gets it tucked in nice and tight at the edges. Stands there for a long time after, just looking. He never gets to look, because the stupid fucker is always staring right back, and Mickey always has to either look away or risk giving away too much.

He doesn't have to look away now.

He flits his gaze over the map of spattered freckles, over ridiculously bright orange hair, over plush pink lips parted in sleep.

He tugs his own bottom lip between his teeth. Gnaws.

What the fuck ever.

He swoops in. Presses his lips to Ian's forehead. Soft, then harder. He closes his eyes. Breathes.

Ian snuffles sleepily.

Mickey jerks away like he’s been electrocuted. He’s back in his own room in a split second, door shut firmly behind him. 

He leans against it once more. Pants. Tries to catch his breath.

He rubs his fingers at his lips. Tries to scrub the phantom feeling away.

In the morning, he kicks up a fuss about the quilt being missing from the living room, blaming Mandy for stealing it when she already has half the blankets in the fucking house hoarded away. He and Ian fuck, quick and messy, while she’s busy making scrambled eggs and eggos to soak up their hangovers. He bites Ian for the first time, digs his teeth into Ian’s pec hard enough to leave little indents in the shape of his teeth.

After, he whisks the blanket and a stolen eggo back to his own room. He wraps himself up in it, in the faint remnants of Ian’s smell, and he scowls.

[fanfoolishness]

Now I know I just reblogged an 8000 word fic I wrote in a 2-day frenzy, but I still want to write more! Feeling the urge for some drabbles though now. Please feel free to pick a character (or more than one) and a word or two from the prompts below and send them to me, let’s see what I come up with! Also feel free to reblog if you want folks to send you some Bad Batch prompts too :)

Character(s): Crosshair, Tech, Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, Omega, Phee, Hemlock, Rampart, Mayday, Cody, Shep, Batcher

Prompts: drizzle, gray, howling, misty, ferns, moss, hungry, damp, aching, snarl, slice, hand, bruise, cough, blanket, sleepless, breezy, sweets, neon, hat, sunburn, caf, smoke, touch, bracelet, shadow, blinded, rumble, cadet, lab, sun, ice, critter, leap, dance, drink

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

Stay

I gave myself a prompt from this list because I felt like writing some Yorkalina. This story is set somewhere in the timeline (that I haven't written yet) where York lives and they get their happily ever after.

---

Carolina paced slowly back and forth outside his door. Her entire body was tensed, on alert. She had to forcefully relax her hands from the fists they had formed into unconsciously. She refused to look defensive in front of him. She couldn't.

She'd been mustering the courage to talk to him for some time now. For days, really. Ever since they found him. Ever since he realized that she wasn't just another one of Director Church's twisted recreations of the people he once loved. Since he realized that she really was herself.

They'd been around each other plenty. He immediately took to the simulation troopers, and began helping Wash run them through combat drills. Caboose followed him around like a lost puppy and laughed too hard at every one of his jokes.

He was different from the last time she'd seen him... more wary. More closed. But at the same time he was the same. He had picked up smoking again somewhere down the line - she'd caught him on more than one occasion sneaking a cigarette out back where Wash wouldn't catch and reprimand him. His brown hair still managed to have that perfect unkempt style to it even after hours spent inside a helmet. He still looked at her the same, even though he tried not to.

Finally, she grew tired of all the dancing around each other. She had to talk to him. And that was how she ended up pacing outside his door in the middle of the night.

Her wristwatch read 0054 when she finally mustered the courage to knock on his door. She knocked quietly, sure that he was already asleep. Then she could skulk back to her own quarters and feel glad that she had at least made an effort.

Instead, his door slid open almost immediately. He stared down at her, his good eye unfocused and his hair mussed. It took several seconds for him to recognize her, but when he finally did his face softened in that way it did just for her.

"Carolina," he breathed, his voice raspy and dry. He hadn't been sleeping yet, she could tell that much. But he obviously hadn't spoken to anyone for quite a while. Her name sounded so right whispered from his lips that she nearly turned tail and ran then and there.

"I couldn't sleep," she said, the justification sounding weak even to her ears.

Still, the man across from her took it in stride. Adapted. He was always good at that. "Me neither," he admitted. "I... I haven't slept well for a while." He stepped back from the doorway, waving one hand in a silent invitation for her to enter.

Carolina seized the opportunity, quickly stepping into his room before she had the chance to chicken out and run away. "Me neither," she commented, trying to keep her voice neutral. "It's been a long time since I slept the night through. Not since..."

Since the last time we shared a cot on the Mother of Invention all those years ago.

She couldn't tell him that, for obvious reasons. So instead, she just let the statement hang there between them.

York nodded, stepping around her to lay down gingerly on his cot. She noted by his movements that he was still feeling some stiffness in his left side. The side where she had kicked him during their earlier duel. She spared a moment to feel somewhat guilty for his pain.

Then that moment passed, and she was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that he was deliberately only taking up half of the real estate on his bed. She did her best not to let herself hope that he was saving some room for her.

"Well, I..." she said slowly, stammering. "I just wanted to check in. And I have. So I guess I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing before I came." She turned and stiffly made her way to the door.

"Carolina."

She hated the way that it took nothing more than her name to stop her in her tracks. But at the same time, she was just so ecstatic to have him near her again that she didn't much care.

"I, uh... I can't sleep." His voice was quiet, his tone awkward and unsure. She could tell without turning around that he was rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the floor in that endearingly bashful way of his. "Could you... could you stay here tonight?"

Carolina's breath hitched in her throat. She didn't dare move, worried that if she did the illusion might shatter. The room fell silent, and for a moment it seemed as if time itself had ceased its movement.

She heard the shuffle of movement behind her. "Sorry. I know that's a weird request. I'll -" whatever else he'd been planning to say vanished on the nonexistent breeze when Carolina wheeled around and marched quickly toward the bed. His eyes widened in concern, no doubt worried that he'd said something to upset her. His mouth opened to say something, but she reached out and pressed a finger to his lips.

"Yes," she breathed, her words barely loud enough for even her to hear over the pounding of her heart in her ears. "I'll stay with you."

Four simple words. A promise to spend the night with him. To try to find some rest in the company they had each missed for so long. But they were more than that... she was promising more than a single night's worth of company. The thought sent a nervous shiver down her spine. She'd never been great at committing to much of anything, but she was willing to change that. For him.

Resolving to put that thought off for later, Carolina wordlessly slipped into the bed beside him. There were a few moments of awkwardness between them... trying to find the right balance to explore the emotions that clearly raged within them in spite of the years that had passed. But then his arms slowly found their way around her, and she pressed her back against his chest, and suddenly it was all right again.

Sleep came for her quickly, accompanied by his steady breathing and the beat of his heart against her back. Just as her eyes drifted shut, Carolina whispered one more promise.

"I'm never leaving again, York."