#yes I worked on this instead of my WIP why do you ask?

[radioactive-earthshine]

Writing tips for long fics that helped me that no one asked for.

1.) Don't actually delete content from your WIP unless it is minor editing - instead cut it and put it in a secondary document. If you're omitting paragraphs of content, dialog, a whole scene you might find a better place for it later and having it readily available can really save time. Sometimes your idea was fantastic, but it just wasn't in the right spot.

2.) Stuck with wording the action? Just write the dialog then revisit it later.

3.) Stuck on the whole scene? Skip it and write the next one.

4.) Write on literally any other color than a white background. It just works. (I use black)

5.) If you have a beta, while they are beta-ing have them read your fic out loud. Yes, I know a lot of betas/writers do not have the luxury of face-timing or have the opportunity to do this due to time constraints etc but reading your fic out loud can catch some very awkward phrasing that otherwise might be missed. If you don't have a beta, you read it out loud to yourself. Throw some passion into your dialog, you might find a better way to word it if it sounds stuffy or weird.

6.) The moment you have an idea, write it down. If you don't have paper or a pen, EMAIL it to yourself or put it in a draft etc etc. I have sent myself dozens of ideas while laying down before sleep that I 10/10 forgot the next morning but had emailed them to myself and got to implement them.

7.) Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don't comment - even if they say they do, they don't, even if they preach all day about commenting, they don't, even if they are a very popular blog that passionately reminds people to comment - they don't comment (I know this personally). Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don't comment. You just have to accept it. That being said - comment on the fic you're reading now, just do it, if you're 'shy' and that's why you don't comment the more you comment the better you'll get at it. Just do it.

8.) Remove unrealistic daily word count goals from your routine. I've seen people stress 1500 - 2000 words a day and if they don't reach that they feel like a failure and they get discouraged. This is ridiculous. Write when you can, but remove absurd goals. My average is 500 words a day in combination with a 40 hour a week job and I have written over 200k words from 2022-2023.

9.) There are dozens of ways to do an outline from precise analytical deconstruction that goes scene by scene to the minimalist bullet point list - it doesn't matter which one you use just have some sort of direction. A partial outline is better than no outline.

10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s your first time wearing that skirt. You’ve had it in your closet for two years. At least. You’re not really a skirt person but it’s cute. The floral on black with the zipper up the front. It drapes nicely enough though you’re not used to wearing anything so short. You have a trusty pair of shorts on just in case. 

You don’t go out either. Definitely not to places like this. You keep an arm across your middle, gripping your other as the hordes of people make you dizzy. The shining gold accoutrement of the decor along with the waft of low music over the noise of tables and voices add to your vertigo. 

The casino is busy and bright and loud. You stay close to your sister as she leads you across the carpet; ivory with golden curliques patterned across them. You’re no gambler either but you’re not there to play cards.  

“I think it’s upstairs,” Roxie says as she looks at the tickets in her hand. “Gala Room B.” 

“Oh, right,” you murmur and smile at her, “what’s the band again?” 

“Don’t worry about it the tickets were free,” she chirps as you look up at her. You feel even more a child beside her; your height often adds to your inferiority complex. Historically, you think, those characteristics have been often intertwined. 

“No, but--” 

“You need to get out of mom’s place more,” she chides, “I could’ve brought Katie instead, but I chose you, sis.” 

“I know, er, thanks,” you run your hand up to your shoulder and rub it nervously. 

“Show doesn’t start for another hour. Let’s get a drink,” she insists and turns, strutting towards the long bar at the other side of the grand space. You trail after her, shrinking down even further. She turns back to you as she leans on a tall stool, “what d’ya want?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t really...” 

“I know, it’s one drink, how about a vodka-cran?” She suggests, “you love cranberry.” 

“Um, sure, if you think that’s good.” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s the wild one, not you. You know you bore her and since your parents’ divorce, years ago, you haven’t really hung out together. She went with your dad and you with your mom, since then, it’s all been a bit fuzzy. 

She orders as you stand back, not wanting to get in the way of the people all around you. You lean back, rocking nervously as you glance around. You feel underdressed as you see women in cocktail dresses and men in suits. Even your sister is a stark contrast to your overly casual attire; your favourite purple cardigan and the skirt you’ve never worn. 

Your eyes scan the room, admiring the golden sconces of bulbs that resemble candelabras and the gilt trim all along the wall. The more you look around, the less you belong. You don’t even know why you said yes. Well, your mom pushed you into it. Just like your sister, she keeps saying you need to get out more. 

You rub your lips together and feel around your small tassled purse. It’s used, like most of your things. The thrift store is as much as your mom can afford and you still haven’t found a solid job. You worked at the grocery for a summer before they laid off half of you then did a one-day stint at a polling centre for the last municipal election. Even if you wanted to go out, you don’t have the money for it. 

You pull out your chapstick and smear it around your chafed lips as you sway back the other direction. You stop short as you nearly slam into another body and you stumble out of the way of the man in his black-and-white suit. Embarrassment creeps hotly up your cheeks and you cap your lip balm and stand out of his path. 

He’s taller than you. Well, everyone is. But to you, he seems huge. His suit is finely tailored to his figure though his hair seems to clash with the refined style. It’s almost to his collar but neatly parted, a shank falling forward to frame his sharp cheekbone. His square jaw is trimmed thickly with a dark beard, peppered with strands of silver and patch along the dimple of his chin. You’ve never seen anything as blue as his eyes, they are almost inhumanly vivid. 

“Sorry, doll,” he touches your arm as he passes and smirks, swiftly turning his sights ahead of him. 

You gulp as your shoulder hits someone else. You spin to face your sister as she offers you a glass. You take the red concoction with the short black straw sticking out over the ice cubes. You thank her as the chill seeps into your hand. 

“Oof, look at him,” she leans to watch after the man in his dark suit, “damn.” You frown and look in the other direction. She scoffs and nudges you, “come on. That guy is totally stunning. Even you can see that.” 

“I don’t wanna gawk at him,” you mutter, “he’s a stranger.” 

“Oh, whatever, not like he’d notice,” she snips. 

You scrunch up your lip and tuck your chapstick away as you peer toward the man. He goes up to a table, sliding in next to a taller woman with honey-blond hair and a shimmery dress. He rests his hand along her lower back as he chatters to her and the rest of the players around the leather trim. 

“Sheesh, he’s fine,” she puts a twang on the last word, “mmph. If I wasn’t with Tom...” 

“Right,” you look down at the drink and sip from the straw. You make a face and cough. 

“It’s not that strong,” she slaps your back, “don’t be dramatic.” 

“I know,” you clear your throat, “I just wasn’t expecting the taste.” 

“Let’s go upstairs,” she points above. 

“Uh, okay,” you agree to her sudden diversion. You suppose you really are boring. 

You follow her up the curved stairs and along the railing that overlooks the lower casino room. Arched windows let in the night and the glow of the facade. You lean on the polished wood and peer down at the first floor; it looks even more resplendent from there. You sister puts her elbow on the railing as she looks around. 

“We could stick around after, lose some money,” she says. 

“I don’t... mom only gave me a twenty and I owe you for the drink.” 

“Pfft, whatever, I’ll spot ya. Tom gave me some extra with the tickets,” she trills, “it’ll be fun. Play some black jack. It’ll be an experience. You could say you’ve actually done something.” 

You smile, closed-lipped and tight. She isn’t wrong. It’s your first concert, for some cover band, and your first time at a casino. It’s not an exaggeration to say this is the height of your life experience. 

Your eyes wander down and meet another pair. You wince. It’s that same man. He walks towards you, a certain swagger in his stride. As he peers up at you, his cheeks dimple and he winks. You wrinkle your brow and look behind you. When you turn back, he’s gone. Right, you’re imagining things. 

Roxie slurps as her straw turns hollow. She’s already drained her cocktail, meanwhile you’ve barely taken a sip. She stirs the ice and hums. 

“Wait here, I’m gonna get a refill,” she raises her glass. 

“Oh, I can come with you--” 

“Nah, just stand here,” she insists. “You’ll just slow me down.” 

“Sure, uh, okay.” 

You curl your shoulders inward as she walks away. Great. All alone. You avoid looking anywhere but your glass. You face the railing again and balance your drink on it. It’s not bad, tarter than you’re used to and a little burny.  

You play with the black bracelet around your wrist, the band they stuck around it when they scanned your ID at the door. You suppose it’s a good idea but they wouldn’t be letting kids in here, would they? Oh yeah, the hotel is attached. 

As a kid, you never went on vacations like that. No hotels, no casinos, no shows. It seems like Roxie is catching up on all of that and you’re just there. The world is so much scarier when it’s all a mystery to you. 

“Excuse me,” a deep voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking it’s merely a passerby, “miss?” 

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you barely save your cocktail from spilling over the edge. You clutch the glass with both hands and face the stranger. It’s that same man, with the suit and the long hair and the oceanic eyes. Something about him is familiar beyond your few earlier glances. 

“I think you dropped this?” He holds up a chip with a golden 100 on it. You blink and shake your head. 

“No,” you scrape out of your throat, “I don’t-- I didn’t--” 

“I swear I saw it fall out of your bag,” he looks down at your purse. 

“Really, I’m not... I don’t gamble.” 

“Ah, well, if it’s just hanging around, might as well use it, huh?” He keeps his hand out, “maybe it’s your lucky day.” 

“I couldn’t. If someone lost it...” your voice doesn’t want to go and he leans in to hear you, adding to the heat spreading through your chest. Is it the alcohol or him? 

“You’re sweet, keep it,” he shoves the chip toward you. 

“Please, I... I... can’t...” you wipe a hand on your skirt and clutch the fabric. 

“Doll, I can’t hear you,” he says as he grabs your hand and dislodges it from your skirt, “here.” 

He presses the chip into your palm. You stare at his tie then look down at the white chip with gold detailing. His hand brushes yours before he rescinds his touch. 

“Erm...” you murmur dumbly and shake your head. 

“My treat,” he growls. 

“But...” 

“Like the skirt, by the way,” he surprises you as he pinches a fold, “cute on you.” 

Just as quickly as he appeared, he strides away, leaving you blankly staring after him. His broad shoulders move beyond a thick marble pillar as you hold up your drink and the chip. You just look between them. 

“Hey,” Roxie approaches again, “oh, what’s that?” 

“A chip...” you state plainly. 

“Duh, I know. Where’d you get it?” 

You look at the floor. Would she even believe you? “The floor.” 

“Ooo,” she plucks it from your fingers, “awesome, “now we’re definitely having some fun tonight.” 

“Rox,” you swallow and look up at her, “we should hand it in. It’s a lot of money. If someone lost it--” 

“If they lost it, they can afford it,” she bobs her neck as she speaks, “live a little,” she sneers and taps your glass, “and finish your drink. Maybe that’ll loosen you up.” 

You nod and recede into yourself, cradling the glass again with both hands. You put your lips to the straw and drink until you can’t anymore. She gulps straight from the brim of her glass and sighs, wiggling as she peers around. 

“I almost don’t even want to see these old men play music,” she snickers as she takes in the expanse of tables flashing lights. 

“Oh?” 

“Relax, we’re going to see the show. You’re a horrible liar and mom will see right through you,” she sneers, “besides, I told her I wouldn’t get you in too much trouble.” 

[bruhnze]

Fuck this - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Summary: Jealous Lucy.

Warnings: A lot of bad words, smut. Minors DNI. Not proof read :) THIS IS X-RATED!!!

Wordcount: 4k

i dedicate this one to you @onabronze and to the anons that asked it's not really good but i tried :).

(i've emptied my inbox so if your ask is not on my WIP pls send again (if u still want it done) because i had so much garbage in there i just removed everything in one go, sorry not sorry😬)

Ps: We do not hate Germany (don't come for me, it was for the plot)!

´´fuck this shit´´ Lucy mumbled to herself as she was running faster and faster on the treadmill, ´´fucking dick-head ref, that’s not a fucking yellow´´. ‘’Cata is a fucking goalie, you fuck ass pigfucker, really strange for her to use her hands, huh, dumb fuck’’.

´´that’s a lot of f-bombs Bronze’’ Millie tried to joke, not noticing how worked up the English defender really was.

‘’Fuck off Millie’’, Bronze called as she stopped the machine and ran off with her eyes glued to her phone.

‘’Bruh’’ Lauran giggled, ‘’you know Spain Germany is on right now’’.

‘’Oh really’’ Millie said confused, ‘’ohh, fuck, her girl is playing for Spain right’’.

‘’Yeah, they’re losing’’ Sam called from the bench on the side of the gym, ‘’Gwinn is about to take a penal and she hasn’t missed a single one for club’’.

‘’Are you watching that?’’ James asked while she strutted over to the Australian, ‘’let me watch along’’.

‘’Ofcourse mate’’ Sam chuckled, ‘’I watch everything’’.  

‘’Do we check on her?’’ Millie asked, mostly directed to Lauren, as she knows her best.

‘’Nah’’ James says, ‘’if you like to live you’d best leave her alone’’.

‘’Sure?’’.

‘’Yes, we’ll just give her some boxing gloves as the game is over’’.

..

‘’Ona doesn’t deserve this shit, what a horseshit head coach’’.

‘’Putellas missing a penalty what a fucking joke’’.

‘’You’re a cunt Berger, A CUNT!’’.

Lauren knocked on the doorpost of the locker-room, ‘’Ey Luce, they’re looking for someone to break in the new boxing gloves’’.

‘’I hate those German wankers with their ugly kits’’.

The English forward suppressed a giggle, ‘’yeah they suck, but you should turn it of bruv, it’s no point of watching them cry’’.

‘’Ona is going to be devastated’’, Lucy said as she looked up and stared ahead, as if she’s just realized it.

‘’Are you seeing her soon?’’ Lauren asked carefully.

Lucy snapped out of her trance and looked at her friend, ‘’yeah she coming tomorrow’’.

‘’To London?’’.

‘’Yes, she has ten days off’’.

''Well then you have enough time to comfort her''.

Lucy sighed ''yeah, I'll just quickly send her a text and then we'll box, I'm going to turn off this stream bullshit''. She says as she looked back at her phone and saw Paralluelo crying. ‘’my heart can’t take this’’, she muttered quietly without James hearing it.

..

When she was driving back ‘home’ from the training ground she received a call, it was Ona.

‘’Hey love’’, Lucy said timidly, not sure about if Ona’s mood would be more sad or angry, or maybe both.

Instead Ona answered pretty lightly, ‘’hey Luce, how are you?’’.

‘’Huh?’’ Lucy said, maybe a bit too loud ‘’I should be asking you that’’.

‘’Montse just scolded us for an hour’’ Ona said, ‘’but for some reason I don’t care about the loss, Germany was just better and I think Cata needs a psychologist after she’s broken her nose, she’s been out of it for every game after it’’.

‘’You deserved to win’’ Lucy said with tears in her eyes.

Ona chuckled ‘’I love you Lucy, but honestly, I’ve got respect for the Germans, they played well’’.

‘’I hate the Germans’’.

Ona chuckled louder, ‘’no Luce, you can not say that because they won Bronze’’.

‘’I hate Montse then’’.

‘’Okay’’, Ona laughed ‘’I agree with that one’’. ‘’But I am going to dinner with my family tonight, so I have to get ready in a little bit, you texted me to call you when I had time, so that’s why I called’’.

‘’Oh wow’’ Lucy said, a little hurt ‘’not because you wanted to hear your girlfriends voice’’.

‘’I see you tomorrow’’, Ona chuckled.

‘’That’s true but I still miss you today’’ Lucy sighed, ‘’maybe I’m a wuss, but I just feel bad for you Oni and I thought you might have needed some comfort’’.

‘’I love you, but I have to get ready’’ Ona laughed, ‘’see you tomorrow?’’.

‘’or you can call me tonight after dinner?’’.

‘’I think I will go to bed straight after, I am extremely tired’’.

‘’I understand, do you want to stay on the phone when you get ready?’’.

‘’Okay’’ Ona said as she put her phone on speaker.

After Ona had hung up because her cab was about to be there, Lucy thought about what she would eat for dinner.

She looked around her kitchen, ''fuck'' she mumbled ''i should clean this shit up''.

She opened her phone and ordered some sushi for tonight, 'because she deserved some comfort food' and got to work.

Her appartment was still a bit of a mess after the quick move in, and she needed it to be presentable for her girlfriend tomorrow. Ona would probably start cleaning her place and she didn't want to be a partner like that, that would be stupid because it was one of her own icks.

As she had cleaned up her apartment the bell rang.

With the sushi she took place at the table and opened the ipad that layed there.

Mindlessly she went on Twitter, she was logged on to her anonymous account and went on the hashtag 'Ona Battle'. She knew she shouldn't, but she was curious what the people thought of her performance this game.

Lucy had seen Ona was tired, but when you took in mind she'd played every single minute, and Lucy knew Ona slept very bad in the hotel, she had played very good.

She froze when she saw people joking about Feli and Ona being back together ''what the hell?'' she said to herself as she went deeper into the rabbithole and eventually came aross pictures of Ona in a Germany shirt, and not just any German shirt, it was the ugly 'Rauch 19' one.

Lucy was tempted to send a teasing text, maybe even with the picture attached, but she chose not too.

She couldn't help to feel a little anger inside her towards Feli, and as she came across a video of them chatting and giggling Lucy lost her shit and quickly closed the Ipad.

She jumped up from the table ''Fucking hell, not bothered about losing, fuck that'', she started pacing the room ''Germay deserved it'' she mocked, ''sure Ona, if you want to fuck her just say that''.

Lucy walked to her kitchen and fetched a beer from the fridge that was left from when Jorge had helped her with building some furniture ''fuck it'', she thought she might aswell have this because it was such a shitty night.

She took the beer to the bathroom and ran a bath, after that she went back to the kitchen to grab her ipad and got in, eventhough she had already taken a shower this afternoon.

Finaly she felt a little better, she had watched some episodes of a series she was watching and after two hours she decided to just go to bed early, Ona didn't want to call anyways so she didn't see the point of staying up. Might aswell get some rest before she saw Ona again tomorrow, eventhough she'd probably be very tired, so Lucy doubted they'd do anything, but atleast she'd be able to take care of her better.

As she got comfy in her bed she opened her phone to check one last time if Ona had sent her a text.

She hadn't.

Then she opened Instagram, scrolling for a little while.

She was just about to shut her phone when she saw @feli_rauch on her timeline, ''bitch'' she grumbled and as she took a better look she saw it was a teamphoto of the Germans, she only saw one person wearing a red shirt in the whole group.

''No way'' she said out loud as she zoomed in, ''are you kiddin' me'' - ''the only fucking shirt swap and it's my girlfriends' ''.

She closed her phone, trew it on the nightstand and dramatically dropped herself on the bed to go to sleep.

As she remembered she still had to put on an alarm and it would be probably best to have her phone on the charger she reached out to put the nightlamp on and fetched it.

When she held her phone it automatically unlocked with face-ID, and she saw that god-awfull team picture again ''fuckkkkkk'' she groaned as she swiped instagram away ''this is one big joke''.

After she had finally put in an alarm and found her charger, she put the light out and layed down again.

She tried hard to sleep but her mind kept wondering off to Ona.

Normally she wouldn't mind that one bit, sometimes her hand would even find it's way between her legs when she thought about her hot, beautiful girlfriend.

But not this time, her mind was polluted with images of Feli and Ona laughing together.

She knew Feli was Ona's ex, she had never really been bothered about it, eventhough she knew her mind was just being a bit stupid, she couldn't help to think back about what Ona had told her about Feli after Lucy had asked her how she had ever been with Feli.

''I wasn't really with her, we just fucked''. Ona had said laughing, ''but i soon found out she was very vanilla and for a relationship we would never ever work''.

Lucy knew she shouldn't have asked the question, but she had, ''but was she good?''.

Ona had asked her if she really wanted to know, and she had confirmed that she did.

After the answer she had regretted asking it, ''uhm, well, at the things she did do she was pretty good at, it just got boring very quickly'' Ona had said.

Now she was laying in bed with the thoughts of Feli fucking Rauch having her way with her precious Ona.

The thought that the German had tasted Ona sickened her.

The thought that the German had been inside Ona sickened her.

But the thought that Ona had, at one point, enjoyed it, got her blood boiling.

Maybe it was the distance.

Maybe it was because they hadn't been able to be intimate for a few weeks now.

Maybe it was the fact Ona hadn't told her about the shirt swap.

But Lucy felt jealous like she had never before.

..

Lucy woke up from her alarm, and checked her messages.

None from Ona.

She freshened up and got dressed.

Nothing from Ona.

In the kitchen she made herself some breakfast.

Nothing from Ona.

She went through the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator and wrote out a grocery list.

Nothing from Ona.

Lucy knew she would be flying in a couple of hours, so she decided to send a text herself, eventhough she had wanted Ona to text her first.

..

It was afternoon, Lucy was waiting in her blue Skoda outside of the airport. When she saw the beautiful freckled woman walking outside, searching for her, she jumped out of the car.

Ona was wearing sunglasses and a hat, but Lucy would always recognise her.

She opened her trunk and walked towards Ona.

''Hello baby'', she said happily.

''Luce!'', Ona said as she sped up her pace walking to her girlfriend.

They shared an embrace, ''i have missed you so much'' Ona muttered against the taller woman.

Lucy held Ona away from her to take a look at her face, ''i have missed you too''.

''I want to kiss you, so lets get in the car please'', Ona said smiling.

Lucy hastily threw the suitcase into the car and got back in the drivers seat as she saw Ona was already in the car.

''Your suitcase was pretty light'' Lucy said as she hopped in next to Ona.

''Yeah, i gave a lot of my stuff with Joan, i'm planning to wear your clothes anyways'' Ona stated.

''Oh'' Lucy said as she smiled at her girlfriend, ''and cool frames by the way''.

She leant in to kiss Ona.

They shared a kiss full of love, it was adamant that they had both missed eachother.

Not wanting to risk being spotted by anyone Lucy pulled back and got ready to drive off, reversing out of the parking spot.

''What yours is mine'' Ona chuckled, ''you said it yourself''.

''True'', Lucy said as she put her hand on Ona's thigh and drove away ''it's cute''.

..

Lucy carried Ona's suitcase to her apartment, and handed Ona the key to get them inside.

''Should i unpack your stuff? is there anything in here that needs to be washed?''.

''Uhm, i don't think so, i have only worn a few clothes, mostly the olympic stuff and those are with Joan, he is going to wash that for me''.

''Clever'' Lucy chuckled, ''putting your brother to work''.

Ona grinned, ''ofcourse, but maybe i will take a shower now and then we can nap together?''.

''I'd love that'' Lucy said, ''oh and let me show you around quickly, i almost forgot''.

It was a pretty quick tour, as the apartment wasn´t that big.

´´So here is the kitchen´´, Lucy said smiling as she turned on her heel and spinned.

Ona laughed, ´´are you making us dinner tonight?'' she asked stepping closer to Lucy.

''Of course beautiful'' Lucy said as she pressed herself against the Catalan, ''i was thinking that one tofu dish you like''.

''Hm yes''. Ona groaned, thinking about the dish Lucy made her often, because she liked it so much.

''Good'' Lucy said ''because I bought stuff to make that this morning''.

''You know me so well''.

''Yes'' Lucy smiled, ''and to be known is to be loved''.

''So romantic'' Ona laughed.

''Oh i'm feeling really romantic'' Lucy said as she bit her lip.

´´Really?'' Ona smirked as she put her arms around Lucy's neck and crossed them.

Lucy kissed her softly.

Ona hungerly answered the kiss and tried to get impossibly closer, getting up her tiptoes.

Lucy pulled away with a smile on her face ''but first you wanted to shower right?''.

The Catalan pouted ''i do.. but i also want you''.

The English defender kissed her girlfriend ''i'll be still here after the shower, and i know how you like to shower off the travel''.

''sí okay''.

They went to the bedroom, Lucy leading the way.

Lucy showed the on-suite bathroom and pointed to the towels.

''Leave the door open?'', Lucy asked in the sweetest voice she could put on.

''Sure'' Ona chuckled, ''are you staying in the bedroom?''.

''Yeah i'll put away your clothes really quick, i don't want you living out of a suitcase when you're with me, and i left some space in the closet for you''.

Ona kissed Lucy, ''you're cute''.

''You're cute'', Lucy repeated.

Lucy opened the suitcase, ''you need some underwear? and what do you want to wear or were you really planning on stealing my clothes''.

''huh'' Ona said, ''it's not stealing, it's my right''.

She chuckled until she watched Lucy's face who could appearently not laugh about it, ''what?''.

Lucy stayed silent.

''Sorry'' Ona ''i'll wear my own clothes if you really don't-

''No'' Lucy said, ''why don't you wear this'' she asked with a sarcastic laugh as she held up the white football shirt.

Ona chuckled.

Lucy looked at her in disbelieve ''you think this is funny? tell me why i have a damp German shirt in my hands right now?'''.

''I said my brother was going to wash my stuff right'' Ona said, ''well, match worn is worth more, you know you're supposed to keep the shirts you trade unwashed right?''.

''Fuck that''.

''It's financially responsible'', Ona laughed and stepped towards Lucy to kiss her.

With a quick peck she wanted to walk away.

Lucy didn't have any of that and grabbed her wrist, ''more please''.

Ona chuckled, ''let me shower, then we nap together''.

''Ona''.

Ona sighed but gave in, she held Lucy's face as she kissed her again, this time more slowly.

Lucy hands travelled to Ona's ass and squeezed her cheeks as she pulled the Catalan in closer.

Ona grinned into the kiss, ''you missed me'' she said, with a tone sounding somewhere between a question and a statement.

''Where did you and Feli talk about after the match?'' Lucy said before she could stop herself.

Ona looked up with a mischievious smirk, ''is that what is bothering you?''.

Lucy huffed out some air, ''why did you swap shirts with her''.

''She wanted too''.

''So you said yes? and giggled about it with her?''.

''What did you want me to do then'' Ona chuckled, thinking it was funny seeing this jealous side of Lucy, it was something new.

''I dont know'' Lucy scolded lightly, ''just to tell her to fuck off with her boring shirt''.

Ona laughed ''boring shirt?, how can a shirt be boring''.

''Not the point'' Lucy grumbled, ''you talked to her after the match and you didn't want to speak to me''.

''I had a dinner!'' Ona laughed as she rubbed Lucy's arms, ''don't worry, you are the only one for me''.

She kissed Lucy's pouty face, ''my beautiful *kiss* strong *kiss* smart *kiss* perfect girlfriend *kiss*''.

Lucy pulled the Catalan thighter against her, ''i think i should give you a reminder''.

''What reminder?'' Ona frowned.

''About what good sex is like''.

''Luce!'' Ona slapped her shoulder playfully.

Lucy frowned, ''you want boring sex?''.

''No..''.

''Cus if you want that I could just put that ugly shirt on and we can roleplay that''.

Ona blushed, ''Lucee''.

Lucy's jaw dropped, ''you're not even saying that you don't want that?!''.

''I don't want that'' Ona rushed to say.

Lucy rolled her eyes. ''yeah i totally believe you now''.

''Sorry'' Ona pouted, putting on a cute smile ''i was distracted because you look so hot when you are jealous''.

''Í'm not jealous!''.

''Oh, és clar que no ets gelós'' (oh i see you are not jealous) Ona mockingly chuckled, she reached out to the suitcase and grabbed the shirt.

''Maybe i will wear it today''.

Lucy looked at her with dark eyes.

''It smells like her'' Ona added with a grin.

A second of silence hang in the air.

''Put it on.'' Lucy said.

Ona's smile faded ''No i was just joking''.

Lucy repeated herself ''go on, put it on''.

''I was kidding''.

''i'm not''. ''put. it. on.''.

Ona gulped and took her shirt off to put it on.

Lucy stopped her, ''no wait, first get naked and then put it on'' she said as she took her shorts off.

Ona felt her heartbeat fasten from the way this aroused her and followed the instructions.

''Your panties too'' Lucy said as walked to 'the drawer' and chose a rather large strap-on to wear.

Ona looked excited at Lucy, wearing a cheeky smile.

''You want this one?'' she helt the strap up.

Ona nodded furiously, a blush creeping on her cheeks.

''i can't hear you'' Lucy said as she pretended to put it back in the drawer again and took her shirt off.

''No wait'' Ona said ''yes, i want that one''.

''Okay, i suppose you deserve it right?''.

''Yes'' Ona said desperately ''please Luce, i-''.

''-laughed with an ex'' Lucy said sternly, ''i don't know if that is good girl-behavior''.

Ona kept quiet as Lucy walked towards her on the bed.

Lucy put the strap in her harness and hovered above Ona.

''that's basicly asking her to fuck you'' she wispered as she let her eyes roam the woman below her.

Ona put her hands on Lucy and chuckled ''Luce, you're crazy''.

''You know how i always say you would look perfect in everything?''.

''mhmm'' Ona grinned.

''Well this is awfull'' Lucy plucked at the shirt.

Ona tried to kiss Lucy but Lucy leant back just in time to dodge it.

''Turn around''.

Ona whined but quickly oblidged, this attitude was making her feel some things.

She was on all fours on the bed and without warning Lucy slapped her ass, resulting in a moan escaping her throat without her being able to surpres.

''Im so wet'' Ona whined as she felt herself dripping along her thighs, she looked over her shoulder to read Lucy's face.

''Don't look at me'' Lucy ordered, ''your pretty face doesn't suit this revolting shirt''.

She leaned against Ona to hold her face before she could turn, and gave her a kiss ''you are beautiful'' she said and softly kissed her lips.

When she released Ona's face and let her hand slide over the number '19' she huffed out some air.

''But you should be happy i have a fake cock'' Lucy grumbled, ''cus i could never get a hard-on like this''.

Ona whimpered.

A cracking sound and a moan filled the room.

Lucy watched the flesh of Ona's as jiggle and groped the skin when it turned red.

''Who does this ass belong to?''

Ona groaned ''you''.

Lucy rubbed the tip of her rubber cock along Ona's wetness.

The Catalan's breath hitched in her throat ''Luce'' she chocked out.

Another time Lucy's hand found it's way to Ona's behind with great force.

''Agh'' Ona groaned, ''please Luce''.

Lucy grabbed Ona by her hips and guided her to grind against her.

''please''.

With one hand Lucy reached around for the smaller womans' centre.

With two fingers she traced her lips and collected some wetness before circling her clit.

''Fuck'' Lucy breathed out, ''so wet''.

She had problems with circling one spot at how wet Ona was, her fingers slipping away.

''Who are you so wet for?'' Lucy asked, talking in Ona's ear.

''You Lucy! you''. Ona practically cried out.

With that Lucy carefully slid the strap inside in one fluent movement.

''Merda'' (fuck) Ona moaned as her head slumped to her chest.

Lucy picked up a rhythm that she knew would drive Ona crazy, perfect for building the tension inside her quickly.

But after a few moments Lucy fastened her pace, not able to contain herself she fucked Ona hard and deep, the sight of the fabric around Ona fueling her anger.

She gave her another spanking to 'punish' Ona for wearing the shirt, but she knew it wasn't actually a punishment for Ona, which was confirmed by the filthy moan she let out.

''I'm coming'' Ona cried out as she gripped the sheets with clenched fists.

''Shit, already?'', Lucy groaned and kept thrusting.

''Lucí'' Ona said as her arch deepened.

''Fuck, come for me Ona'' Lucy said as her grip on Ona thightend.

With a loud cry Ona came.

Lucy slowly rode out her orgasm and released her grip on the girl, causing her to flop down on the bed.

The English woman shuffeld and took the strap out of the harness and layed it on the bed besides them, figuring the sheets were ruined anyways.

Lucy pulled Ona around by her shirt.

Ona looked at her with hooded eyes, wearing a content expression from her post-orgasmic bliss.

Lucy smiled, ''hi beautiful''.

Ona grinned as she took Lucy's hands, ''thought you hated it''.

Lucy scrunched her face ''the shirt; yes.. you; no''.

The Catalan smiled, ''i'll take it off'' she said as she sat up.

She stopped as she noticed reticence on Lucy's face.

''What?''.

A smile tugged on Lucy's mouth, ''i'm debating sending her a picture''.

'''Lucy!''. Ona punched her girlfriend.

She snapped out of her dream and redirected her gaze from the shirt to Ona's face. She shook her head quickly, ''sorry, i don't know why i said that''.

Ona chuckled, slapping a hand on her forhead ''jealousy''.

''I don't want her to see that pretty little fucked out face of yours''.

Ona chuckled and held her arms up, ''pull this off, we're throwing it away''.

''I'll sell it for you'' Lucy grinned, ''you didn't do all this effort for nothing, did you?''.

Lucy helped her out of the shirt and threw it so far it landed in the hallway.

''Well, that's gone'' Ona chuckled at the unreasonable attitude Lucy had, and tugged on Lucy's sportsbra ''this can go too''.

Lucy quickly took it off and got on top of Ona.

''Did i go to far?''.

''No''.

Lucy tilted her head questioning.

''I'm sure, it was hot actually, a little gross, but hot''.

''Gross?''.

''Yeah, stinky shirt'' Ona said with a disgusted face, making Lucy chuckle.

''Oh and'' Lucy said as she traced her hands along Ona's skin, ''as much as i hate it, you did look beautiful''.

Ona smirked, ''i thought the things you said were really hot'', ''i am already thinking about who's shirt i'll trade next''.

Lucy narrowed her eyes and shook her head, ''ohh you're bad''.

''Sí, soy fatal'' (i'm a baddie) Ona joked chuckling.

''Que?'' Lucy said, thinking Ona just called herself terrible.

''In spanish we call someone that's unreasonably hot, fatal, it means they're bad but it is like slang'' Ona explained, ''a funny joke, because you called me bad''.

''I get that now'' Lucy laughed, ''that's funny actually, in English you can also say someone is a baddie, same thing''.

''Really?''.

''Sí'' Lucy said, ''god, i will miss our language talks''.

''We call every day'' Ona said, frowning.

Lucy looked at her with a pouty face ''but you don't want to talk to me''.

''Luceee'' Ona dropped her head on the pillow ''I had a dinner!!'' she called out snickering.

''I love when you call out my name'' Lucy said as she ran her hands along Ona's thighs.

Ona looked up with a smirk, ''I love when you make me call out your name''.

''I think I forgot what you taste like'' Lucy said as she crawled on top of Ona.

..

-----

The end, not theirs.

-Keep an eye out for Feli's shirt on Ebay 😂

Feel free to give me feedback/tips (anonymously) but in a kind way is the most appreciated xx

[uplatterme]

a/n: i can’t title this. my wip list literally has it as “haitham gets scammed by dori ft. aphrodisiac”

cw: sub!alhaitham, dom!gn!reader | handjob, cockpolishing, usage of aphrodisiac, crying

————

“haitham? are you alright?” you ask out of worry, the scribe trembling as he uses the door frame to support himself.

you quickly go to him to help him out, but a slight touch of skin makes you flinch due to how warm he is. although, that doesn’t compare to the noise that abrupts out of his throat.

“dearest?” you question him again, only to get yourself pinned to the wall.

he presses himself on your body, grinding in a soft and slow rhythm. he tears up, muttering quiet apologies as he continues his movement.

“what’s wrong?”

“s-sorry…” he holds onto your body, desperately trying to get himself off. each friction has him tensing up that the more he does it, the more it seems like he’s edging himself rather than getting that release that he wants.

he pants, breathless. you’re unsure if he’s even sane enough to know what he’s doing.

you put your arms around him, helping him out as he continues to fuck himself on your thigh. his legs are unstable, shaking as if there’s an earthquake happening.

“p-please. need to cum…” he cries out, sobbing. his cock aches, outlining itself from the outside of his pants.

next thing alhaitham knows, his back is on the soft cushion of your bed. it didn’t take much work, considering his body is as frail as a historical artifact right now.

alhaitham’s lower half is so wet to the point you’re half-convinced that the man had cum outside before even getting here. his cock is twitching, and as your warm fingers envelop him, alhaitham whimpers, cumming instantly.

“my scribe, what exactly have you gotten yourself into?”

“drank…something—hn!” the scholar finds himself sensitive, too sensitive, no matter how minimal your touches are.

he grips the messed up sheets of the bed, unable to contain how his body reacts. he keeps telling his brain to stop, that it’s embarrassing how he’s spread out like this, under your mercy.

he wants you to stop looking at him as if you’re going to devour him whole like a wild beast…

“more….” he begs.

ah, is there even a point of him lying to himself?

“needy today, aren’t we? you said you had work to do…and now you’re here.” you tease.

“it’s not me…it’s because of that damn wine…” he breathes out, he feels you quickening your face and his body shrivels up into another orgasm.

“really. so why is it that instead of getting the antidote, you come to me instead?”

the pleasure is getting to his head. it’s almost as if you’re inside his brain, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.

“i…” he doesn’t see himself winning, even if he decides to think of something to say.

“using such a thing to your advantage. how irresponsible, my scribe.”

you play with the tip of his cock, your thumb slipping on his slit. he drowns in the sensation, all coherent thoughts leaving him.

he didn’t—he swears that he didn’t plan it to end up like this. he was just tricked by that damn merchant!

why didn’t he go get the antidote?

as your finger continues to polish his cock, his body quivers, wanting to curl up and away from the touch. he’s so close—god, he’s gonna cum. he doesn’t want to—he does—no—yes—please!

your other hand keeps him still, forcing him to endure and to not resist the overwhelming satisfaction that you’re giving him.

you’re going to break him. reduce his mind into nothing but a mindless puddle, nothing that the kind of scholar he proudly presents himself as.

he sobs even harder as he reaches another climax. he hears you laugh.

“you’re fine, my pretty baby. i’ll take such good care of you. don’t worry.”

“o-okay.” he responds with a grin.

[everlastingdreams]

Isaac Lahey x Reader : All The Things I love

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Story Summary: Isaac asks to borrow your notes for a Math assignment but learned more than he expected to learn from them.

Notes: Fluffy. This has been in my WIP's for way too long. I wasn't sure if it was good enough to finish writing it, but now I have.

Word count of this fic:  2900

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After getting home from school, you had put a pizza in the oven to eat for dinner.

And as you waited for it to be ready, you were busy writing down some things on the list you had been working on. It had started as just a way to put your thoughts into something else to clear your head from them, sadly that plan had not worked out so far. This particular list grew a little longer every day.

When your doorbell rang, you left the small notebook on your desk as you hurried to see who it was.

The second you opened the door you were met with Isaac’s blue eyes and wide smile.

“Hi, sorry for not calling before coming over.” He looked nervous, as if you would slam the door shut on him.

You shook your head at his shyness and gestured for him to come inside “Don’t worry about it. My friends are always welcome.”

He relaxed immediately, his smile grew wider. “I’m…. I’m glad to hear it.”

Usually Isaac always called or texted before coming over, something must have caused him to forget.

You could see that he looked a bit stressed about something, “You know you are always welcome here, Isaac. But is there a particular reason for this unexpected visit ?”

By his expression you could tell that there was a good reason.

“It’s about the math assignment for tomorrow… I uh… I lost my notes.” Isaac sheepishly confessed.

“Lost or forgot to take notes ?” You quirked a brow at him.

He looked guilty now, making it clear that it was the latter.

You decided not to torture him with it, “You can borrow mine.”

The sigh of relief coming from him made you laugh.

“Thanks, y/n. I owe you.” He smiled.

“Yes. You do, Lahey.” You teased, patting his arm with your hand.

You failed to notice how he drew a sharp breath when you touched his arm, and he leaned a little into the touch.

Then the smell of burned pizza reached your nostrils.

“Oh, crap!” You loudly exclaimed before running out of the room. You stopped and turned to him, quickly pointing at your desk. “The notes are over there. It’s the large notebook.”

He nodded quickly, finding it pretty funny to see your reaction to the burned pizza, “I kinda have to go, I gotta go to the store to get some stuff before it closes. I’ll text you later?”

“Okay!” You called back to him and he heard you curse in the kitchen.

He walked over to your desk and took the notebook from it before heading to the door. “Found them! Thanks for the notes!”

“See you tomorrow!” You shouted whilst trying to scrape the burned parts off of the crust of the pizza.

The door opened and closed, alerting you that he had left

After cleaning out the oven, and trying to salvage some of the pizza, you walked back into the living room and noticed the notes were still on your desk. Didn’t Isaac need them?

It was only then that you realized something was wrong.

You had been writing in your diary when Isaac had come to your house, and in your haste you had forgotten to put the diary back in it’s safe place, aka under your mattress.

You were quick to realize what had happened and panicked immediately. Not only did the diary contain your deepest secrets, thoughts and wishes. It also contained the truth about your feelings for him.

He had accidentally taken the little notebook instead of the large one.

“Dammit, Isaac.” You whined in frustration. Why had he taken the wrong one???

You quickly dialed his number, hoping you could reach him before he realized the mix up.

.•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•.

Isaac had just begun to work on the assignment for math, well… he had taken a piece of paper to write on at least.

He took your notebook into his hand, while writing down his name on the paper, and opened it.

It wasn’t until he saw that by skimming through the pages and seeing no solved math problems, or many numbers for that matter, that he realized something was off.

He stopped on a random page and read just a couple of sentences that he thought were going to be one of those weird questions that came with a math problem.

This wasn’t a math problem, this was you describing an embarrassing situation you had been in weeks ago that he could vaguely recall.

He sat upright on his chair instantly when he figured out what the notebook in his hand really was.

“Oh… oh no…” Isaac panicked and the diary fell out of his hands by accident.

Clumsily he fished it up from he ground, it fell again when inches above the ground and this time he picked it up more carefully. He quickly tried to fold the pages back neatly again where they had crumpled from hitting the floor. His eyes fell on a page inside as he tried to fix it’s now messy state. It looked like two lists. It was not a grocery list or something. No.

The first list was titled ‘Bucket list’, where you had named all the things you still wanted to do in life. Some had been scratched off, it brought a smile to his face to see that you had already achieved some of these.

Then he took a quick look at the other list below it.

His mind went blank the second he read the title of the list.

~“All The Things I Love About Isaac”~

He knew he should have closed your diary and not invade your privacy. But his eyes were glued to the list naming everything you apparently loved about him. It even included things he felt insecure about. The last thing you mentioned was how he never gave up, even if things got hard. It looked like you had started to write something else down but stopped before finishing it, making it undecipherable to him.

Only when his phone rang did he snap your diary shut, as if he had just been caught.

When he looked at his phone, your name was lighting up on the screen.

He got ridiculously nervous as he answered the call.

“Y/n, hey, what’s up ?” He cleared his throat.

You sounded just as nervous when you answered, “Hey… uhm… about those notes you borrowed for class? Did you… uhm… did you work on the assignment yet?”

“No!” He answered a bit too quickly, realizing that he could pretend he never looked inside the diary in the first place. “No.. uh I didn’t.”

You let out a sigh of relief, believing that he had not even noticed yet that those were not notes. “Oh, great. Uhm… You took the wrong… notes. Don’t bother looking at them. Could you bring those back… I… I really need them.”

He sighed in relief as well. “Sure thing. No problem. I’ll be right there. Maybe we could work on the assignment together ?”

“That would be nice. See you in a couple of minutes then?” You asked.

“You bet.” Isaac quickly answered.

“Okay, be careful on your way here, alright? It’s dark outside.” You told him.

That was sweet of you to say…

“Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be right over.”

“Alright. See you soon. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The call disconnected and Isaac breathed out deeply.

Even though you seemed to believe that he had not looked at those ‘notes’ yet, he got incredibly nervous. Why would you write a list like that in your diary?

Maybe you knew another ‘Isaac’?

No…. no.

You would have told him if you knew someone else with the same name.

Did you write it because you had feelings for him?

He couldn’t just ask you about it, you would be so mad at him if you found out he did read your diary.

He swallowed hard, he would have to find another way to figure out the truth.

.•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•.

As promised, your doorbell rang not much later and you found Isaac on your doorstep holding a pizza box in his hands. The smell of the warm pizza flowed inside the house the second you opened the door for him.

“I uh… Thought you might want some pizza that doesn’t taste like ashes.” He showed you the box.

“You’re so sweet.” You told him while taking the box from his hands. “I’ll put it on the table so we can share while working on the assignment.”

Isaac was quick to pull the small notebook from the inside of his jacket. “I brought this back, do you want me to put it on your desk?”

You hurried over after putting the pizza down on the table and took your diary from his hands. “I’ll take care of that. Thanks.”

The diary was placed under a big stack of books on your desk and you handed him the notebook that had the notes he had been after.

He didn’t open the notebook until you were both sat at the table, and eating a slice of pizza while working on the assignment together.

An hour had passed and he found it difficult to keep his attention on the assignment. He tried but his eyes always found their way back to you. He should be studying the notes in front of him, but instead he was studying your face. Your eyes, your nose, your lips…

Only when he heard you say the word ‘List’ did he snap out of his thoughts.

“What ?” He asked, panic in his voice.

You repeated what you’d just said, “I said we should make a list with all the stuff we have completed for this assignment so far. It will help us stay organized.”

He swallowed hard, his voice wavering a little when he said, “Sure. Yeah. Great idea. Good plan. Let’s do that.”

You looked back at him, picking up on the strange atmosphere.

“Do you know someone else who’s got my name?” Isaac suddenly asked.

“Huh?” That was a weird question. “No, why?”

“Just curious.” He mumbled a bit.

You blinked twice, narrowing your eyes a little at him, “Isaac, what’s going on with you? You’ve been acting distracted since you arrived here.”

He chuckled nervously and shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on with me. Let’s uh… let’s work on that… list.”

He tried.

He tried so damn hard to not make that word come out differently.

But it did, and in your head it finally clicked.

Now it was you that began to fumble nervously with your pen.

He saw. He saw. He saw…

The words repeated themselves in your head over and over again.

Isaac must have seen the list, he was acting… off.

And the way he had just struggled to say ‘list’ was what set off your alarm bells.

No wonder he was acting strange, he must have read the list in your diary about him.

But…

Surely if he had seen the list, he would have said something about it? Hell, it would have been the perfect opportunity for him to confess his own feelings to you… if he had feelings for you…

But he kept quiet and you swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

Deep down you knew he had seen, he was acting different and you knew him well enough to know he was lying just now.

You wished you had never made that stupid list.

All he could think about was to not let it show that he had read your diary. You would be so angry, maybe even hurt that he had invaded your privacy in such a way.

He couldn’t bring up that list, he didn’t have the guts to tell you that he knew that you liked him as more than just a friend.

There was an uncomfortable silence and he feared that when his voice had broken on the word ‘list’ that he was caught in the lie.

Isaac was fishing for words in his mind, anything to get a normal conversation going again. Anything but this cutting silence between you.

But you were the one that broke the silence.

“It’s getting late. We should stop for today.” You said without looking at him.

A frown graced his face at your words, “You sure ?”

You nodded as you started to gather your things to put them away in your backpack. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

He blinked a few times, feeling that the atmosphere between you had shifted to something… colder.

“Alright… maybe we could watch a movie together now?” His voice betrayed how the situation was making him nervous.

You shook your head and managed to send him a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Sorry, Isaac. I’m… I feel pretty tired.”

It was then that he knew that you just didn’t want him to be there any longer.

He gave a nod, the hopeful smile faded from his face, “Okay then. Are you alright ?”

You evaded his eyes as you nodded and tried to brush it off. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Really… just tired. I’ll see you in school tomorrow, right?”

He felt small relief at that, at least you still wanted to see him.

“You bet.” He said.

With that he silently gathered his stuff as well before leaving your place.

On his way home he kept thinking of solutions to make this right again.

Perhaps he should have just told the truth about reading some of your diary. Now you had figured it out yourself and he could sense that it had upset you.

He needed to think of a way to handle this situation before he would have to face you again tomorrow.

.•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•.

The next day, you didn’t see him until you had already taken a seat at your desk in math class. You opened your backpack only to realize your math notebook was missing.

Just then, Isaac walked into class and put the notebook down on your desk before taking seat at his own behind you.

“Thanks.” You whispered to him, even though there were a ton of loose papers now sticking out from between the notebook.

They were all filled with the stuff he had worked on the previous evening beside you.

You went through them for a moment to see if there was anything useful for you as well on them.

One of those sheets of paper caught your attention, at first you thought it was just a paper with some extra notes on it, but then you read what was written on it.

It was a list… about you.

You slowly looked over your shoulder, back to Isaac. If there had been any doubt in your mind that he had put the list there for you to find, it was banished when your eyes found his.

You saw him take a deep breath, saw him reading your expression and then finally he shyly smiled.

A smile that failed to truly hide how nervous and afraid he was.

But that feeling vanished when you send him a bright smile back.

You were practically beaming with joy as you quickly turned your eyes back to the front of the class.

Isaac watched as you carefully folded the list and put the folded paper in your pocket.

Neither of you were able to focus much on the lesson for the rest of the class.

When math class ended, you were out of that classroom fast and waited for him by the door.

He walked out, his own notebook in hand, in search of you.

“I’m sorry for yesterday.” He apologized. “I’m an idiot, I know. I should have said something but I was afraid you’d be upset that I looked inside your diary.”

“How much did you read of it?” You asked him.

Isaac decided to tell the truth. “Just the part about that time you slipped over the wet floor. And those two lists.”

Your face burned, he had truly read the list about him…

“Thank you for telling me the truth now.” You smiled shyly, “And for what you wrote on that list you made about me. No one has ever said such sweet things about me before.”

The list he had made about you was full of praise and compliments. And everything he loved so much about you.

“I forgot to add one more thing on that list.” Isaac quietly said.

You bit your lip in expectation, “What?”

“What I love about you, is you.” He confessed, feeling the nerves crash into him with full force.

Your gaze fell to the floor when feeling how your heart was trying to escape your rib cage.

“And I forgot to add something on my bucket list.” You quietly told him, “Something I want to scratch off of it too.”

“What?” He looked a little confused.

“A kiss from you.” You send him your most alluring smile.

His brow arched in surprise, his mouth fell a little agape. “Oh.”

You laced your fingers in that scarf he had decided to wear, even though it wasn’t cold, and pulled him to your lips.

Isaac’s soft lips caressed yours, you parted only to look him in the eyes, he closed the space between you again instantly.

You were right to write down his lips as one of the things you loved about him.

And so was he to write yours down on the list he had made about you.

[l0vem41l]

star stickers and best efforts.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, hurt/comfort but 100% not at all, reader is mildly mean when nervous LIKE A BAD DOG /ref and most definitely written self-indulgently by accident, sun is mildly condescending, they r each others best supporters, mentions of a customer being rude but rly nothing crazy, sun uh... he's an interesting fella, BIGGG dialogue chunks im sorry im sorry 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. the daycare attendant/sun/sundrop

author's note: my wip title was literally just "the one where you're yelled at" :p but... hiiii!!! obligatory return to fnaf real quick becuz,,, no, i still havent gotten into the ruin dlc but YES i do love sun's personality in help wanted 2..... if this is ooc u can erm. shove me into wet concrete. (。﹏。) aaannywayz!! missed this!!! missed this so much!!!! ( ╯□╰ ) sorry for not valentine's day posting,,, scandalous ik since im lit rally Called Valentine. but oh well. enjoy! or dont. if you dont im sorry please request fnaf stuff so i can Fix That /srs

if you weren't relying on this job to put food on your table and a roof on your head, you’d burn the freddy fazbear’s mega pizzaplex to the ground for a piece of pocket lint and a pat on the head.

maybe it’s a bit dramatic to say that— you're paid well, you like your mostly robot coworkers, and most of the time (emphasis on most and not always) the work is manageable enough.

the customers are another story.

sun notices the minute you walk in the daycare. you look like you're a minor inconvenience away from murder— which naturally, makes him feel inclined to prod a little.

“well, someone’s awfully sulky today!”

while you’d typically crack a smile at the upbeat jester animatronic, his enthusiasm in the face of your misery is grating. there’s no energy left in your body to banter with him— you were using most of it to drag your feet over to the shoe caddy, toolbox in hand to fix up its shelf, now hanging askew due to a busted bracket.

“can it, sunny, i don't wanna hear it.” you mutter, more venomous than you intend it to be. he doesn’t even blink at your grumpiness. instead, he happily holds up the shelf while you inspect it and grab a new bracket to secure it.

at least he’s trying to make himself useful. you think to yourself.

his faceplate tilts slightly, staring at you with that ever present grin. his staring isn’t really helping, but you don’t fault him for it. you’ve gotten used to his antics by now. “woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” sun questions.

you shake your head.

“got yelled at by a customer— now, if you could please just drop the topic—” you sigh exasperatedly, not even bothering to finish the sentence as you sit down cross legged in front of the shoe caddy, slumping slightly in defeat.

much too persistent for his own good, sun decides that inquiring even further about the incident that seems to have you beat down is a good idea. “what’d you do?”

you consider feigning offense as he insinuates it’s somehow your fault. but you don’t. you just shrug it off.

“my job.” 

“ah, they do hate it when you do that.” he tuts.

“it wasn’t even that big of a deal,” you mutter, getting the bracket in place and marking it, “this one kid just so happened to walk up to the arcade machine i was putting an out of order sign on. i felt bad, so like, obviously, i hand the kid a few tokens, apologize politely, explain— and you’d think it’s all good right?”

you pause mid-ramble as you fix up the shelf. in all your misery, you forgot that you don’t even know exactly what caused the shelf to collapse like this. you consider asking.

sun leans in just a bit too close, interrupting your train of thought as you stare at the shelf. when you glance at him, he gives you a little nod.

go on, he seems to say wordlessly. he’s waiting silently for you to continue your story. it’s never not unnerving when he’s quiet.

“...anyways, uh... the kid’s dad came by and got mad or something. didn’t understand why i couldn’t just let him play one game since it looked perfectly functional— keep in mind, this is the arcade machine that literally kept eating up tokens only to not function, and shocked kids when it did— so i kept trying to explain why i couldn’t exactly do that. but for some reason, it was such a big fucking deal—”

“language.” he chides.

“...fricking deal. of course, i had to be berated for it. i offered to grab them more faz-tokens as compensation and i thought the problem was solved... and then i checked and saw he still left a bad review. definitely gonna hear about that from management.” sun hands you a tool as you continue to speak.

“but now i’m upset, i’m definitely in trouble, and my face hurts from the whole customer service smile i was holding that entire conversation. like seriously, i don’t know how i’m expected to do that 24/7.” you stop at your last remark and stare at sun and his unchanging expression. “...my bad.”

the awkward silence only lasts for a moment, thankfully. you’ve spoken your piece— sun decides to speak his.

“you did your best.” he says simply, as you finally fix the shelf into place. he pats you on the head and doesn't even hide his amusement when you sulk.

“i know that tone, sunny, you're making fun of me—”

“poor thing.” he continues, grinning brightly as he makes a show of patronizing you. sun’s hand continues to pat the top of your head gently, like he would when consoling a child. or when greeting a dog. has he,,, ever seen a dog before? probably not.

you groan and manage to shove his arm away.

“i do mean it though,” he continues, his tone still lighthearted— but notably more earnest as he notes your expression. sun helps you put your tools away neatly back into the toolbox, even though it really is just a one-man job.

“you tried your best,” sun closes the toolbox with a flourish and a click, “...and for that—!”

with a dramatic flick of his wrist, bells jingling as he does, sun produces a gold star sticker from… somewhere. he holds it up for you to see.

and then gently presses it onto the tip of your nose.

“to my favoritest human employee here! and my bestest of friends!” it’s hard to bite back a smile at those words. even if his little show of empathy and affection is much too theatrical for your current mood.

“whatever.” you shrug a little, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from twitching into a little grin. standing up and grabbing the toolbox, you give him an awkward thumbs up.

“thanks. and uh… sorry. for being mean. i guess.”

sun shakes his head dismissively, bouncy and bright as ever. “oh, don't mention it!”

something about his seeming lack of offense towards your prickliness makes you feel even more guilty. still, he gives you a wave as you head out, “bye-bye”-ing happily as you walk away, sticker stuck to your nose and smile on your face like an idiot.

you decide you’ll find a way to make it up to him later. you figure he deserves that much for putting up with everything.

meanwhile, sun is taking mental notes on more stuff to break of whenever you’ve been away for too long. just in case, of course. maybe you’d have more interesting customer encounters to rant about. and hey, you could use the company, couldn’t you?

— reblogs always appreciated!

[damallarky]

Truce

There was an influx of Papae!Solas content and I wanted to share a WIP I was working on that I'm not sure what I'm going to do with or where it's going to go in the grand scheme of my Inquisitor and Rook's story.

For context:

Neria is my Lavellan and Solas's twelve-year-old daughter. She is at the Lighthouse because of reasons.

Ren is my Rook. He is my Lavellan's oldest brother.

Solas is busted from the Fade by Rook and Co. Because that is going to happen Bioware.

Neria does not appreciate the strange man who is suddenly in her and her mother's lives.

To Neria, he is the Interloper and must be Stopped.

Stuff happens, and Neria has a change of heart and is willing to give the guy a chance.

However, first, she needs to set some ground rules.

Enasali (who is briefly mentioned) is the Ill-Advised Pre-Veilguard Solavellan Hookup Baby

AKA why it was Varric trying to talk Solas down and not Lavellan.

AKA why Varric has gray hair. Sorry dude.

Neria is too much like her father. I love her.

Neria found him in the library, speaking in low tones to Emmerich and Uncle Ren as they poured over some massive tome. Unnoticed by the three men, Neria used the opportunity to study the bald elf, whom Mamae claimed to be her father. 

He had quite a bit more color since her uncle pulled him out of the Fade. He no longer looked so pale and sickly, and the dark circles under his eyes had started to fade. He still looked tired, to be sure, but it was less somehow. He also stood straighter, taller, as if he had been carrying something heavy on his back and was finally able to relieve his burden. 

There were other things Neria noticed about him as well. Features that were familiar to her. Features that she knew didn’t come from her mother but never truly seemed to realize that they came from someone else. Like how his ears were shaped similarly to her own or how they both had a cleft chin, though hers was noticeably less prominent. 

And then there were the eyes. 

Neria knew that she had her father’s eyes; her mother had told her as much growing up. But it never truly registered with her, until she met the man they called Solas and saw her own grayish purple eyes stare down at her. 

The same grayish purple eyes that were currently watching her intently. 

Apparently, she had been noticed. Great.

“Neria, did you need something? Is everything alright?”, her uncle asked. 

Neria fought the growing urge to run away, and instead crossed her arms and tried to give her best “serious” face, like her Aunt Cassandra wore when she meant business. 

Neria wanted to show that she meant business, too. 

“I wish to speak with Solas,” she said, in her best Aunt-Cassandra-Serious-Business-Voice. Figuring that might have been a little too demanding, she added, “When he has a minute to talk. If that’s ok?”

“Of course,” Solas said, perhaps a little too quickly. Emmerich and Uncle Ren shared a look. Emmerich shrugged.

“Yeah, sure, we could use a bit of a break,” her uncle agreed. He and Emmerich grabbed the book and left the library, her uncle giving her shoulder a small squeeze as he walked by. 

And just like that, Neria found herself alone with her father for the first time in her life.

“You wished to speak with me, Neria?” He asked, gently.

Neria cleared her throat.

“Yes. I wish to parley,” she declared. 

She wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting Solas’s reaction to be. She had figured he would laugh at her and tell her to stop being childish. Or maybe even get angry at her for being so demanding of an adult. What she wasn’t expecting, was for Solas to nod with actual, genuine seriousness. He clasped his hands behind his back, like one of those statues in Orlais of human generals.

“Very well,” he said, before gesturing to one of the many plush chairs seated around the table in the center of the library. “Please, take a seat.”

“Solas, it has come to my attention that I might have been a little bit mean to you.” Then, because she didn’t want to him to think she was going soft, she added, “Just a little bit, though!” 

Solas nodded, solemnly, his face carefully neutral. Neria continued.

“As such,” she said, “I wish to declare a truce.”

Solas’s neutral mask slipped, and Neria noticed the corners of the man’s mouth tick upwards ever so slightly. With his hands folded on the table, he leaned forward so that he was eye level with Neria.

“Ma nuvenin. What are the terms of this potential truce?”

“First; I will not call you ‘Papae’ or ‘Father’.”

“Of course,” Solas agreed, “I would not ask that of you if it made you uncomfortable.”

Neria blinked. This was easier than she thought!

“Um, ok. Good,” she said. “Second term; you will call me Neria and only Neria. No stupid nicknames, like da’vhenan. Ok?”

For a fraction of a second, something flashed in Solas’s eyes. Something that looked a bit like hurt. Or maybe regret? However, it came and went so quickly that Neria wasn’t sure if she actually saw it at all.

He nodded.

“Third; if I want to be left alone, I want you to leave me alone. Ok?”

Once again, Solas nodded. 

“I would not wish to encroach upon your space.”

Neria mirrored her father’s pose, clasping her hands together and laying them on the table in front of her. She didn’t quite strike the same imposing figure as Solas, but, for being twelve, she thought it was close enough. 

“Good,” she declared. “Now, in return, I will permit you to continue to court my Mamae and help her take care of Enasali. But if, and only if, you continue to make Mamae happy.”

Solas’s neutral mask slipped once more and it was obvious he was actively trying not to grin. Neria narrowed her eyes at him, not appreciating the lack of seriousness on his part. Solas coughed and his face went carefully blank once more. 

“Ir abelas,” he said, his voice serious despite the twinkle still in his eyes. “Neria, I promise that I will do everything in my power to make your mother as happy as I possibly can for as long as she will allow me to do so.” 

Now was the part that she didn’t necessarily want to agree on, but she knew it was only fair. It was the whole reason why she was speaking to her father in the first place.

“And finally,” she said, reluctance clear in her voice, “I will do my best to… to give you a chance.”

[jayswritings13]

Total Drama: Alejandro Relationship Headcanons

Request: "Can I request dating headcanons with Alejandro?" by @ali-simpp

💗Masterlist | WIP Page

Alejandro is hard to get to know at first.

Yeah, he's friendly-ish and charming when it comes to small talk and general conversation.

But, anything deeper than that is like pulling teeth.

"WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?!"

"Because I'm dating you and I'd like to know about your childhood."

Once Alejandro feels as though he can fully trust you with personal information, he is much more open and shares things before you even ask.

THE NICK NAMES!

Sometimes, it seems like he doesn't remember your actual name.

"Some breakfast, mi amor(my love)?"

"Corazón(sweetheart)?! Are you okay?"

"You look radiant, mi alma gemela(my soulmate)."

In fact, Alejandro shows a lot of his affection through words of affirmation and physical touch.

If you ever move from his touch or physical affection(even without meaning to), he will be offended and he will make a big deal of it.

"...not a big fucking deal." You laughed, tossing your keys on the table and shrugging your jacket off.

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal?!" Alejandro stormed in after you. "You basically deflected every advance and touch I did tonight!!"

"I know!" You sighed, "I didn't mean to, but after you grabbed my ass."

"That's never stopped you before."

"It was a work party, Alejandro!"

"Ptff, no one was there."

"Which meant that those there definitely saw."

Alejandro is a huge romantic and goes all out for any occasion.

This is especially true for date nights.

Fancy dinners and reservations at the best restaurants.

Secluded starlight pinics with homemade food all prepared and made by him

Well, mostly. A little help from DJ and his mama was needed.

Nights in with drinks and dancing.

Alejandro knows this too, which makes it you life mission to out romance him at any given chance.

Fancy dinners are topped by a surprise birthday party.

Starlit pinics replaced with night swimming and museum visits

Dancing and drinking replaced with spa day and letting someone else do Alejandro's crazy skin routine instead of doing it himself.

It doesn't happen often that you outdo Alejandro, but when it does, that happy and loved look on his face is priceless.

Alejandro will try to teach you spanish if you do not know it.

"¿Qué te gustaría comer?(What would you like to eat?)"

"Uh.... "

"You got this. What did I ask?"

"Where I want to......"

"Yes. Almost there."

".....go out??"

"Close."

Thankfully, he is patient in teaching you.

Though, if you do know Spanish, he is thrilled to speak Spanish primarily with you instead of English, especially since he's much more comfortable with Spanish.

Alejandro does not like to talk about Total Drama or his time on the show.

If you and Alejandro met through Total Drama, then he will sometimes talk about the show here and there.

Also, if he met you through the show, he is and will always be grateful for that.

If you met him outside of the show, you would have never known that he had been on a reality tv show, except for actually watching him that is.

He does not talk about it often, it ever.

Though, you now know that is because of the severe post-traumatic stress that he has experienced while on the show.

The dangerous challenges, disgusting food, and getting injured while in Hawaii.

"You don't have to talk about it any more if it hurts too much." You said, tightening your grip on Alejandro's hand.

Alejandro doesn't say anything, but the look of relief on his face says it all.

"Soy tan afortunado de tenerte en mi vida (I am so lucky to have you in my life)."

"I am too."

[dangerpronebuddie]

WIP Wednesday!!

Tagged by @theotherbuckley @tizniz @daffi-990 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove who all shared absolutely BRILLIANT stuff y'all should definitely show some love!! 💚🩵

I am pushing through Severed Artery until I get it done! I'm really really hoping it'll be posted tomorrow, if things go right. While I fill in the last missing pieces, have Buck reminiscing™ about the shooting. Because if there's a chance to tie anything back to that moment, I'm gonna take it lol:

“Uh, could you… grab some clothes from my locker?” Buck asks as he wanders into the showers. He turns on the faucet at the sink he usually uses, not even daring to look in the mirror, afraid his bloodstained face would be staring back at him. Tommy enters only a moment later with Buck's jeans and a hoodie that Buck knows Eddie stole from him. He doesn't know how it got back in his locker, but he's not knocking it. “Do you want me to help?” Tommy asks. Buck wants to say yes, he wants the comfort Tommy usually brings, but… what he really wants- who he really wants- may not… “N- no. I got it,” Buck says with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Why don't you get out of those clothes and I'll throw em in the washer,” he suggests instead. Buck simply nods and quickly sheds his clothes, the tacky blood drying on his skin making the fabric stick to him a little. He hands them to Tommy without looking at them. He can't. Tommy disappears and Buck shoves his hands under the too hot water. His heart drops into his gut as the water turns a pale pink. He's suddenly staring at his bloodied hands in a hospital waiting room, horrified at the fact he didn't notice how much of Eddie's blood covered him. Each time he reached to wipe tears away, he'd flinch at the sight of his hands. Chim had showed up with a shirt for him, and Bobby had softly coaxed him into the bathroom. Chim stood silent by Buck's side as Bobby scrubbed his hands. Buck made the mistake of looking in the mirror then, at the specks of blood scattered across his face like the freckles he used to have as a kid. “He asked if I was hurt,” Buck had whispered as he stared at his reflection. He had huffed a humorless laugh and shook his head. “I don't think I would've noticed if I was.” He doesn't think he would now either. He whimpers as his hands shake. He remembers the tremors from the last time, that didn't really go away until Eddie was out of surgery. He hadn't noticed them until Taylor took his hands. Maybe he should've asked Tommy to stay with him. Maybe he could put Buck back into some semblance of order before he faced Chris. No. It didn't work with Taylor. It won't work now.

(tags under the cut. As always, please let me know if you want to be added/ removed):

Absolutely no pressure tagging:

@13shadesofanni @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway

@ronordmann @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @kitteneddiediaz

@inell @exhuastedpigeon @spagheddiediaz @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @thekristen999

@actuallyitsellie @daniwib @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life

@rainbow-nerdss @lunarspark-cos @idealuk @shipperqueen6

@misshiss727 @likeamollusconarock @lin27 @jshadow01 @orangeboxfox92

@smallandalmosthonest @thegeekcompanion @emilybahu @lemotmo @awolfnamed-nyx

@kaseysgirl86-blog @darkrose6578 @totallynotagoraphobic @dandelioncasey @bibuckbuckgoose @whatsgoodinthehood22 @lady-elaine and anyone else who wants to share!! 🥰🩷

[beanxiv]

hi beanie i saw u were asking for reqs for other fandoms so i came to the rescue ! have u seen that trend where someone's significant other says ily and they don't say it back?? u should do that with the kamaboko trio!!!

SAY IT BACK ! (gender neutral reader)

note: sorry for answering so late anon 😭 this is a very old wip that i dug up from my drafts but i hope u guys enjoy it

warnings: fluff, modern au

tanjirou kamado : his first thought is that maybe you didn't hear him.

he stops dicing up the vegetables he was working on and turns to you. "did you hear me, darling? i said i love you."

"yes, i know." you have to fight to keep a straight face.

you can see the gears turning in his head. "is everything okay?"

"yeah, everything's good."

"are you mad? did something happen- did i do something?" the frown on his face almost makes your façade crumble.

you glance at your phone, hidden away on a nearby shelf where tanjirou can't see it recording him. you struggle between two options, drop the prank and reassure your loving boyfriend, or continue and make yourself feel guilty...

'i might hate myself after this,' you think to yourself before getting your act together.

"no, why would i be mad, tanjirou?"

he's put the knife down by now, and is shifting closer to you, concern lacing his soft features. "are you sure?"

"yes, tanjirou." you nod. your boyfriend freezes.

"what?"

you haven't called him tanjirou since... well, he can't even remember. it was always either an endearing petname or nickname.

you play dumb, tilting your head innocently. "what, is something wrong, tanjirou?"

it seems your boyfriend has finally had enough, "yes, something's wrong! why are you calling me tanjirou? and why haven't you said it back??" his expression is downcast, like a kicked puppy and you finally break.

"i'm sorry, baby." you throw your arms around the brunette, "it's just a prank, don't worry." you point out your phone and tanjirou audibly sighs in relief.

"you really scared me, love. i thought you were mad at me.." he's quick to squeeze you tight to his chest.

"i love you so much, tanji. i'm sorry for pranking you," you say sincerely.

"i'm just glad everything is okay. i don't know what i'd do if you suddenly stopped loving me," tanjirou mumbled against the crown of your head.

you pull away in shock, "'stop loving you'?? as if that's possible?? i'll never stop loving you, so don't say things like that."

tanjirou giggles, "i'll never stop loving you either, darling."

inosuke hashibara : immediately thinks you've lost hearing or something. because why else wouldn't you say it back??

"did you go deaf or something??"

inosuke is staring at you with his hands planted on his hips and a pout on his lips to show his frustration.

"hm? no, i heard you, ino." you mumble without looking up at him, instead focused on a scrolling across the screen of your phone.

inosuke grunts in confusion, "are y'sure?"

"mhm, i heard you." you shift on the couch where you lay so that your back is to inosuke.

and this gesture shocks him. seeing you turn your back towards him.. now he's convinced something's wrong.

"hey! why're ya acting like that??" he pouts harder, his arms moving to cross over his chest.

"like what, ino?" you sigh, turning up the volume off your phone to tick him off.

"i said i love ya and.. y'ignored me!" he moves from where he stood by your head at the armrest to stand in front of the couch, your back still facing him.

"oh, did i?" you shrug, barely acknowledge his movement with a look over your shoulder.

"y..yeah, y'did!" he grumbles, resolve crumbling.

you finally turn to face him, "so? do i have to say it back?" your resolve is crumbling too.. this act is getting hard to keep up.

inosuke's jaw drops, "yeah! f'course you do!" his pout becomes less frustrated and more disappointed, "how am i s'posed to know you love me back if ya don't say it..??"

and that's the final blow to your mask. you sit up hurriedly, standing up to pull him into your arms, "aw.. i'm sorry, ino. of course i love you.. i promise it was just a prank, sorry love."

inosuke melts into your hug until the word prank. he pulls his face away from where it was buried into the crook of your neck. "a prank..? i- i knew that! i just wanted to.. prank you back." he says, knowing that both you and him are aware that it's a poorly strung lie.

you rub his back soothingly, deciding to fuel his ego a bit. "ahh, i see. well.. you really got me then, ino. you had me completely fooled, baby."

zenitsu: poor guy thinks you're gonna leave him 😭

"y/n.. i said i love you." zenitsu looks up from where his head was laid in your lap.

"mhm, i heard." you murmur flatly, eyes on the tv.

his expression twists into concern, "you heard? so.. why didn't you say it back..?"

you shrug, expression still blank. "didn't feel like it, i guess."

zenitsu scrambles off of your lap to sit up on the couch next to you, "you don't love me anymore?"

"i didn't say that," you finally turn to look up at him, schooling your expression.

zenitsu stares at you, wide eyed with worry. "but.. if you don't say it back that means you don't love me.. and if you don't love me that means you don't want to be with me.. and if you don't want to be with me that means you're gonna leave me.. if you leave me..--"

he goes on until you cut him off with a hand on his knee. "zen, it was just a prank. sorry baby."

zenitsu looks down at your hand on his knee before looking up at you, expression confused. "so do you love me?"

"of course i do."

zenitsu lets out a breath that seems to have held all his stress. "oh thank god.." he shifts to pull you into a bone-crushing hug, "don't do that again! what if i had a heart attack??"

"sorry, zen." you grin as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, hand coming to run through his hair. "i love you, zen."

"that's good." he murmurs against your neck, "i love you too."

©beanxiv — all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is not allowed.

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday! Have some more of my MLC longfic, where DFS wakes up while being carried back to Lotus Tower to a rather unpleasant surprise. (You can find all previous excerpts here.)

cw/tw: flashback to past imprisonment/allusion to past non-con (to skip, don't read the two italics lines starting with "Red robes.")

**

Di Feisheng’s eyes flew open, the faint echo of a hated bell ringing in his ears, and he tried to wrench his legs away from the arms pinning them in place.

“It’s alright, a-Fei,” soothed an oddly familiar voice, attached to not unfamiliar arms, which pressed his legs tighter against an unfamiliar flank. “You’re safe. It’s just a dream. Do you need to get down, or do you want me to keep going?”

Di Feisheng blinked and tried to force his spinning mind to work through the pulsing, stabbing pain threatening to split his head in two. He was being carried somewhere, that much was certain, but everything else had been covered by a layer of fog. Why couldn’t he remember? He shook his head to clear it and instantly regretted it, swallowing hard to force his stomach contents to stay where they were. 

“A-Fei?” The person carrying him stopped walking abruptly. “If you can hear me, tap once for down, twice to keep going home.”

Interesting. Weak and helpless as he was, he was being given choices. And as much as being stationary sounded preferable, going ‘home’ would give him time to remember what home even meant. And who this person who apparently shared it with him was. 

He tapped twice.

“Alright,” said the man carrying him. He started walking again, even more quickly than before. “It’s not much further now. You’ll be with him soon. Just hang on, a-Fei.”

Him? Who was–

–Xiangyi, his mind supplied. Li Xiangyi. Li Lianhua. 

Images of swords and slender fingers and a smirking mouth flitted through his mind.

“You can rest your head against me again, a-Fei,” the man whose hands weren’t Xiangyi’s said, “I really don’t mind.” A pause. “Or are you feeling better? Did the Yangzhouman help? I hope it’s alright that I tried again. I couldn’t think of what else to do. You weren’t responding when I called your na–”

–Yangzhouman? Xiangyi’s qi? 

He took a moment to check his meridians, and yes, there, buried under the pain and exhaustion, was its gentle, warm thrum.

“–Don’t understand! I kept it away from your Baihui acupoint this time! So what did I do wrong?” The young man sounded worried, and increasingly so by the second.

Hmm. The worst of the stabbing pain did originate in the Baihui acupoint. And there was some sort of blockage around it comprised entirely of Beifeng Baiyang–nearly a complete seal–that was keeping the rest of his too-meager qi from circulating smoothly. Yangzhouman would clear the blockage instantly, but judging from what the man had just said, clearing it had contributed to if not caused his current incapacitation. But if he only thinned out the blockage instead of eliminating it, let some of his own qi through, it might help him regain his strength along with the swaths of memories he was so clearly missing. And maybe it would make his skull feel less impaled.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled some of his qi out from his Baihui point and sent it toward Qianding closer to his forehe–

Red robes. A high-pitched giggle. Hands yanking down his undergarments, and–

Di Feisheng jerked back, gasping for breath, almost pulling free from the arms that trapped him. Or . . . held him? 

Blue robes. The jangle not of a bell or laugh but of a jade pendant against a tiger head pommel. A familiar arm and shoulder catching him before he could hit the cave floor– “A-Fei! What are you–what happened?” the man–no, Fang Duobing–asked, craning his neck to try to look over his shoulder. “Are you in pain? Should I stop?”

Di Feisheng shook his head and closed his eyes, his hands clenching into fists against Duobing’s chest as he wrestled his lungs and mind back under control. That was the past. It was over and she was dead, no matter what images were playing in his mind.  

“Alright. I’ll–I’ll go faster. Just hold on.” Duobing took off into a full sprint, Huli Jing barking and running by his side.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: have a great friday, dudes.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Maris Street. You rarely go that way. It’s near the core of the town, closer to the west end where green hedges and white picket fences cordon off the suburban elite from the commoners like you. It suits him, doesn’t it? You assume this is what he’s used to. 

The venom roils in your gut as you approach Oxford Drive. You stop before the sleek grey exterior. The black trims and large golden moniker in all caps add to the extravagant effect. Flowers boxes stand outside the windows that glow amber with rich ambience from within. The nicest place you ever went was the Korean Barbecue your dorm mate dragged you to; this is well beyond that. 

You take a breath and look down at yourself. You’re still wearing the black jeans and plain tee you sport for your job. Former job. Your beat-up sneakers perfectly match your thrifted aesthetic and the purse strap twisted around your hand and wrist frays as if to assure everyone that you don’t belong. 

You go to the front door and pull it open. You step inside to the low drone of stringy music and the subtle clink of glasses amid the low murmur of voices. You chew your lip as you approach the tall round desk where the hostess stands over the open reservation book, like some mystical keeper of scrolls. How very Skyrim of her. 

She gives you a look, one you expect. You sniff and cross your arms, the strap of your purse further straining your circulation. You exhale and peek over at the dining room. 

“Hi, I um...” your cheeks pinch as you find it difficult to speak. “I’m meeting someone.” 

“You are?" Her skepticism drips from her voice, “are you certain they’re... here?” 

“Yeah. I don’t know if he made a reservation or whatever. Obviously, I’m not a regular,” you snipe back. You’re too exasperated to hold back. You don’t need her judging you too. “Older, beard, uh, tall... Andy Barber. Is he in the book?” 

She flutters her pretty lashes and looks down. You watch her. She’s a few years older than you. Tall, balayaged hair, slender, perfectly bowed lips. What about her? Or someone like her? Why wouldn’t he want that instead? Why is he bothering you? 

“Barber,” she nods, “yes, he’s here.” 

She seems surprised by that. She steps out from behind the desk and tells you to follow. You obey. You have to. This is all just pulling teeth. He has you toothless already. 

You keep your head down as you trail behind her. You only look up as you sense a figure on the other side of her. Andy stands as you approach and you nearly choke. You want so bad to just turn around and run away. 

A line deepens in his forehead and disappears. He smiles as the hostess waves you forward. He comes around to pull out the other chair before you can. You retract your arm and barely withhold your frustration. Can’t he understand you want nothing from him? 

You sit stiff and fix your bag in your lap, slowly unwinding the strap from your wrist. The hostess promises a server will be with you soon and struts away. You stare at the table cloth and as Andy sits, darkening the edge of your vision, you turn to glare at the far wall. 

You feel even more demeaned sitting there in your jeans in tea among the crystal and tall-stemmed lilies. The tinkle of the soft woodwind music makes your head buzz yet the smell of the food teases your empty stomach. Your eyes drift to a group of older women, laughing over wine, a symbol of what you’ll never be. Happy. Free. 

“Thanks for meeting me. I guess you’ve never been here before,” Andy begins. 

You shake your head and flick your eyes to the ceiling. You grit down on his words. Why is he acting like this is normal? 

“Nice place, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you snap and look at him directly, nearly growling in his face, “very nice. Upscale. Well above me.” 

You cross your arms and sit back, your purse strap still loosely clinging to your wrist. His chest rises and he exhales through his nose. He leans forward and his cheek ticks. 

“I brought you here for dinner, so we could talk, get to know each other--” 

“That’s not what I’m here for,” you insist, almost teary-eyed from your rage. You don’t like being angry. You’ve never been very good at and more times, you end up blubbering. “Kara, my friend--” 

He tilts his chin up and sets his gaze firmly on you, “we’ll get to that.” 

“No, now,” you hiss. 

He huffs through his nose. He looks around, silently chewing his agitation. He sits up and replaces that manufactured smile as a server approaches. 

“Good evening, can I get you started with drinks?” He asks, his dark shirt finely pressed and buttoned to the very top. 

“No thank--” you begin. 

“We’ll take a bottle of cabernet,” Andy interjects, “for the table. Oh, and could we get some fresh bread. This has been sitting out.” 

The server acquiesces and takes the basket as Andy hands over the wine menu. You barely keep from rolling your eyes. You’re not here to eat and drink and be merry. Kara is quite possibly behind bars. 

You glare at him and wait. The server leaves as you keep your arms folded, fingers clamped tightly. He looks at you as if there’s nothing wrong. As if this is all normal. 

“I want to know what’s going to happen to Kara. You said you can help--” 

“I can,” he says casually, “so let’s have a nice dinner and then I’ll do just that.” 

“But she’s--” 

“They’ll have her in holding, question her, then they’ll have to figure out charges, yada, yada,” he explains, “don’t worry, I’ll give them a call after, tell them my client is invoking her right to an attorney.” 

Your chest thumps and your ears ring. He’s so confident. He already knows you can’t say no. Not to him or this dinner. You have to sit there and celebrate his victory that came with your defeat. It’s not right. It’s... it’s... deranged. 

“Why?” You croak. 

“Why?” He shakes his head. 

“Why are you doing this? Why me? Why not someone... someone you can relate to? Someone your age?” 

“Why you? You’re perfect, sweetheart. Perfect for me,” he coos, “come on, we get along. We did. I know I messed things up but it can’t change that we had fun. We did, didn’t we?” 

You swallow and shrug. Those nights you stayed up and mined or raced or whatever, they were fun, they were nights you look forward to. But every single one was a lie. 

“Sure, but... what if I’d lied to you? What if I wasn’t me? What if I was some guy in a basement--” 

“You weren’t.” 

“But what if--” 

“I know you weren���t.” 

“How could you know--” 

“I just did. You’re so genuine, so... kind, that can’t be fake,” he insists. 

You sink down, slumping your shoulders, and look away. What can you do? You’re exactly where you never wanted to be. With less options. With none. 

“What do you want from me?” Your dry mouth crackles around your words. 

He’s quiet as the server returns. He sits back and you lift your chin as you watch the server uncork the bottle. He pours the wine and Andy asks for a few more minutes with the menu. Again, you have no appetite. 

When you’re alone again, Andy takes a breath and shifts in his chair. He brings his hands together, pinching his left ring finger as if he’s missing something. He quickly pulls his hands apart. 

“You. That’s all I want,” he breathes. 

You stare at him. You don’t understand. Maybe it’s because you don’t want to. If you keep denying it, it might not be the very idea that makes your skin crawl. 

He reaches for his glass of wine and holds it out. You stare at it, then look him in the face. You can’t wipe the horror from your face. 

“Cheers to us, sweetheart,” he says, “me and you.” 

You shake your head as he waits. Slowly you take the glass before you and raise it. He clinks the crystal between you. 

“It’s the first day of the rest of our lives,” he declares, “we can both build the home we always wanted. Together.” 

🎮

Andy pays the bill as you wallow in futility. This is it. Your life is over. All because of one mistake. All because you trusted the wrong person. 

He stands first and you follow. He grabs the to-go box of the food you barely touched. You’re in such a fog, you can barely think. He gestures you towards the door as he nudges you with the box. You hug your purse to your stomach and walk between the tables. 

The cool night air wakes you up. As you come to the sidewalk, you stop. You turn back to him and wet your mouth, a hint of wine on your tongue. 

“Call. Right now,” your voice shakes. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” He inclines his head as if he doesn’t understand. 

“The police. Call. You said you would help Kara,” you insist. 

His brow arches and he nods. He holds out the container and you take it stiffly, letting your purse dangle from your shoulder. He pulls out his phone as he stares at you. Finally, he looks down and scrolls. He clears his throat before he puts it to his ear. 

“Hi, yes, this is Andy Barber, I’m an attorney for a woman in your custody. Yes, I do.” You listen to the piecemeal conversation, “name is Kara Orascio. Yes, she won’t be talking to the police any longer. That’s correct.” He pauses and listens intently, “I’m out of town but I can be there tomorrow. Sure.” 

He hangs up as his eyes cling to you still.  

“So, looks like we need to pack,” he says. 

“What?” You utter. 

“Don’t you want to see your friend?” He challenges. 

“Well, yes, but I thought you--” 

“I’m not coming back here again. So, you’re coming. We’ll deal with your friend’s charges then we’ll go home.” 

You blink, “home?” 

“Sure, sweetheart, I got it all ready for you,” he turns down the sidewalk and takes your hand. 

You have the urge to rip your hand out of his. You want to tell him not to touch you. You want to scream and run away. You don’t because you want to save Kara more. 

“I meant what I said before. I can get you into school down there,” he guides you along, “you’ll like it. It's close to Boston. Place called Nelson. You ever been to Massachusetts?” 

“Hm, no, didn’t travel much.” 

“That’s okay. We can do some of that too. Still got lots of summer left. We could go somewhere sunny,” he drawls, “you know, it gets gloomy in the fall so we may as well enjoy it while we can.” 

“Sure,” you murmur. 

Your feet are heavy, your head too, every part of you just wants to give up. Haven’t you? Isn’t that what this is? You surrender.  

“You okay, sweetheart?” He stops and lets go of you, fishing around in his pocket. 

“I’m...” your vision narrows in; just like the moment you first met him. As Andy. As the real him. As the twisted man you just sold your soul to. “...tired.” 

“Aw, yeah, well, it’s been a long few days. For both of us. You wanna come back to my hotel. The bed’s really cozy and the tub is deep. You could relax for the night before we gotta get on the road,” he offers. 

You shake your head, “n-no,” you stutter. The last thing you want to do is be alone behind closed doors with him. “You said... pack. I should... do that.” 

“Ah, I did. Alright, I’ll take you to your grandma’s. I’ll have to come early so we can get to your friend.” 

“Right,” you agree coarsely. 

“Trust me. I know how to handle cops,” he chuckles and pulls out his keys, unlocking the car right beside you. He opens the door and steps back, “I’ll call ahead. Get us a room as there too. I guess you’re going to want to catch up with your friend while we’re there. Might be a while before you see her again.” 

You wince and look at him. A while. You look around at the street lights. You’re not unhappy. Leaving this place doesn’t matter to you but leaving Kara, possibly forever, that’s a knife in the chest. But forever is easier if you know she’s okay. If you know she doesn’t pay for your stupidity. 

You nod and get in the car. You can’t speak. If you even try, you’ll bawl. The end is there, you feel it closing you in with the car door. 

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Angel Neil 😇🩵

WIP Wednesday (9/11) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 232)

"You know, it's sort of funny," Neil starts off. And by the tone of his voice, Andrew can tell whatever he's about to say isn't the slightest bit funny. "I didn't know this would be my forever outfit when I put it on that morning. You know? I had no idea I was going to die that night. I guess if I had known, I wouldn't be dead at all. I would've just ordered take out instead of going to that diner."

Andrew turns to look at the angel, "Diner?"

"The one where they caught up with me," Neil answers, keeping his eyes on his work. “I was on my way back to my motel room when they grabbed me. My last meal was a greasy burger and some half-cooked fries. Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Andrew confirms, making Neil exhale pitifully. He watches Neil's fingers as he finishes up the sewing. It doesn't take him very long at all. Within a couple minutes, he's tying off the thread and using his teeth to cut it in two.

Neil starts to pull the hoodie back on and Andrew has to hold in a disappointed sigh. Watching Neil's skin disappear under gray fabric must be punishment for something he doesn't remember doing. Luckily, he's got his perfect memory to rely on. He can look at Neil's scars anytime he closes his eyes.

"Ta-da," Neil says with a smile, showing off his newly-fixed shirt like he's a fashion model. Andrew thinks in another life, Neil could've been a model. He has the cheekbones for it. The eyes. The hands. The everything. He makes that potato sack of a hoodie look good, at least to Andrew.

"It looks good on you," slips out of Andrew's mouth. When Neil's mouth quirks, Andrew curses himself for being born with a tongue. "I mean, since you're stuck with it forever. At least it looks good on you."

"Mm. Thanks for this," Neil says, holding out the sewing kit. Andrew lets Neil drop it into his hand and curls his fingers around it to absorb the residual warmth. Neil tests out his newly-patched pocket and seems satisfied. "It's good as new. Not like I have to carry anything in it. But it's good to know I have options."

"Do you get hot wearing it all the time?" Andrew asks abruptly.

"In the summer I did. It was hot as shit up here. But now that it's November, it's pretty comfortable most of the time." Neil tells him. "Why?"

"Can you change clothes?" Andrew asks suddenly. "Or is that really your forever outfit?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't tried."

"Why not?"

"I don't have anything else to put on," Neil says with a shrug. "Everything I had was in my bag in... Well, I actually have no idea where it would be now. I doubt Lola or Romero brought my duffel along. So it probably just ended up in a trash heap somewhere."

Andrew catches a new deal about Neil's past and grabs onto it with his teeth. "Lola and Romero?"

Neil freezes. "I don't want to talk about them."

"All right," Andrew says simply. He's got a mile long list of people he never wants to speak of again, so get gets it. He won't press. (Not now anyway.) But he'll definitely add those two names to the Neil Folder he keeps in his head. Maybe he'll pay a visit to good ol' Mr. Google later and see what turns up. "You could always get new clothes, you know."

"Yeah. I've thought about it. I'm invisible, after all. Even if I wasn't, it wouldn't be too hard to swipe some things here and there," Neil says, like he's used to shoplifting. "But there's cameras everywhere nowadays. I don't wanna get caught. Can't really explain a floating pair of pants, you know?"

Andrew nods. He supposes that makes for an interesting problem. One that's easily solved. "If I got you some other clothes, would you wear them?"

Neil's expression flickers into something strange. "I guess so. But... Why would you wanna waste money on a dead man? I'm fine in this."

"Maybe I'm tired of looking at gray," Andrew offers. It's a weak explanation and complete bullshit, but it's all he's got. He looks Neil up and down. "What size are you anyhow?"

"Uh," Neil looks a bit clueless. Then he twists the hoodie around until he can check the tag. Andrew's eyes are drawn to the bit of skin peeking from under it. "This one's a large."

Since it's very obviously too big for him, Andrew makes a mental note to buy Neil a few medium-sized shirts. Then he reconsiders it. What if something tighter irritated his scars? Begrudgingly, Andrew erases his last mental note. Size large it is.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Airport Troubles

kai parker x reader

summary: you face some trouble with TSA while trying to catch your flight. the suspicious agent uses some unconventional methods to get the truth out of you.

tags: roleplay / sexual roleplay, fingering, oral, vaginal sex, cuddling, mention of pregnancy, minor breeding kink oops

word count: 3.4k

a/n: it's taken me 4 days to publish this bc I finish work and then immediately fall asleep. also this is so cheesy but I haven't posted in a while, so I pulled something out of my wip graveyard (this has been in there for months)😅 slowly working on requests!

“Hey, I’ve got a new idea.” Your boyfriend comes up to you, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Hm, what’s that?”

“TSA check.”

“Huh?”

“Like airport security.”

“I know what it is, Kai. What idea do you have with that?”

“You stand still and I check you over. Make sure you’re not gonna land in a new city and kill a bunch of people.”

You snort, “shouldn’t I be checking you then?”

The joke flies over his head, “no, because I need to be the one touching you.”

Instead of trying to explain your joke, you giggle, “okay. Friday night?”

“Yes.” There’s a dark glimmer in his eye as he agrees.

It should scare you, but it has the opposite effect. “Okay. I’ll be ready.”

Proud of himself, he gives you a kiss before crashing onto the couch. Not two minutes later, he’s calling you over to cuddle, and when you do, he’s instantly out like a light. 

◇◇◇◇

You spend a solid hour getting ready for Kai’s new roleplay idea. These types of things always get him so excited, both of you, really, so you put extra effort into your appearance. 

Underneath jeans and a plain t-shirt, you’re wearing a black lingerie set - one that’s a little more complicated than those you usually wear. Sometimes it’s fun seeing him struggle to take them off, but you have to hold back the giggles so he doesn’t catch onto your tricks. The difficulty makes him frustrated, which leads to him being rougher when he finally gets it off. 

Smirking at the thought, you complete the look with socks and shoes, plus a coat and backpack. You plan a loose dialogue to go with it, then head downstairs at nine sharp. 

The minute you come around the corner, Kai’s right there, and you almost smack straight into him. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, please watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry, sir.” You bite your lip to not laugh. It always takes you a minute to get comfortable with a new character. 

“Where are you headed?”

“Terminal A, going to New York.”

“I see. Well, good thing that flight’s not leaving for another forty-five minutes, because you’ve been randomly selected for a pat down.”

“May I ask why? Did I do something wrong?”

“Not entirely, ma’am. However, your inattention to your surroundings is a little suspicious to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No worries. Just come with me.”

“Okay.”

He leads you into your living room, blinds closed, illuminated by two lamps in the corners. 

“We’re using lamps instead of the overhead light so that the flashlights work better,” he explains.

“Oh, okay, sounds good. I like that better actually. Big lights hurt my eyes.”

“Why? Are you high?”

“What? No! Just… I have sensitive eyes.”

He’s quiet for a minute, then speaks into an invisible radio on his hip. “Gonna need you to bring me a drug test, Brenda. Might need it.”

You resist the urge to laugh, again. 

“Is security funny to you, ma’am?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Alright, stand still. Do you have your ID and passport?”

“Yes,” you hand them over and he looks through both briefly. 

“Okay, jacket off. And I’m going to look through that and your bag.”

You bite your lip, shrugging off the items. If Kai drags this out, you’re going to die. 

“Just a little patience, won’t take long.”

“Okay.”

One-by-one, Kai pulls the things out of your bag and comments on them. 

“What’s this exactly?”

“Curling iron. For hair.”

“Okay.”

“Hmm, phone charger, small deodorant, pens, notebook, glasses, looking good. Hold up, condoms?”

You blush red.

“It’s alright, better safe than sorry.” He continues, “book, nail file, oh - this lipgloss, I’m going to have to discard it because it’s a weird color.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s showing up green on the light, and that’s weird.” He throws the gloss out without further inspection. As it flies across the room, all you can do is throw up your hands. “Protocol.”

“Sure.”

“Hmm, now what’s this? Another curling iron?”

“Um, no. That’s a… personal effects tool.”

“A what?”

“A, um-”

“You’re going to have to be crystal clear with me, young lady.”

“It’s a vibrator.”

“A vibrator?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are the condoms for?”

“Wha-”

“Nevermind, not my problem. As long as it’s not a weapon, you can keep it.”

“What about my lip gloss?”

“No, ma’am, you can’t keep that. I already told you why.”

You groan in fake frustration.

“But the rest of your bag is clear. Okay, now for the pat down portion, you’re going to have to stand still with your arms out. I’m going to check your upper body first.”

“Okay.” You do as you’re told, biting your cheek hard. 

Kai runs his hands along your arms, squeezing from your shoulders to your fingertips. On two occasions, he runs the back of his hand along your skin, letting his nails tickle you. Again, you fight the urge to giggle.

He then focuses his gaze on your chest. “What’s this necklace?”

“It’s from my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, he’s actually waiting for me in New York.”

“Why didn’t you just fly together?”

“Conflicting schedules and all that.”

“Okay.” He runs a finger along your collarbone before muttering, “all good there.” His hands are all over your body now. They cup your breasts and rub your nipples, then move down to squeeze your waist. Kai rests a hand on the small of your back as his other feels your stomach.

“Is this standard procedure?” You question as he touches your breasts again.

“Please don’t interrupt me, ma’am. This is very important.”

“Oh.”

“I’m going to need to check your lower half now.”

“Okay. Did I pass on the top half?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

“Spread your legs.”

He wastes no time moving to your hips, then thighs. “I need to touch here.”

“Okay.”

His hands hold and squeeze your butt. A finger is run along your crotch until it rests above your clothed clit. Suddenly he applies pressure, sending a jolt up your spine. 

“How’s your sexual performance?”

“What?”

“How do you perform sexually?”

“Um.”

“You must answer the question.”

“I’m fine, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“No.”

“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

“I mean, a small chance, but I doubt I am.”

“Okay,” he replies. Kai says nothing more on the topic. He moves down to your knees, then feet, rubbing his hands along them. “Alright,” he finally looks up at you. 

“Did I pass?”

“For the most part, but I’m still suspicious. Do you have anything in your jean pockets?”

“No. You told me to empty my pockets, so I did.”

“Sass isn’t going to speed this up, sweetheart.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m gonna need you to remove your pants so I can check them.”

“What?”

“It’s protocol.”

You fake a sigh, then unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. Kai licks his lips, and you can tell he’s trying his best to hide his excitement. The moment he glimpses your lingerie underneath, though, his eyes widen. 

“Ma’am,” he starts, sighing. He’s holding back. You can hear it in his tone, though the tightening of his jeans is giving him away quickly.

“Yes?”

“I’m not sure you wore the appropriate attire for this flight.”

“Oh! Sorry. I didn’t expect to be stripped in an airport. I was wearing it for my boyfriend.”

“Mhm, well you should’ve acted less suspicious or you wouldn’t’ve been stripped. Also, again, sass isn’t helping your case.”

“Can we just… finish this so we can both move on from this awkward situation.”

“Depends if I deem you able to fly.”

“Okay then can we start that process?”

“Sure. I’ll try to ignore your… outfit.”

He did not, in fact, ignore it. Kai continues his inspection like normal - well, normal for Kai - and pats down your body. Every so often, he mutters a comment about you passing this, or doing well on that, but when his fingers ghost over your clit again, he clicks his tongue. 

“See, this is the problem. I think you’re hiding something here. But don’t worry, it’ll only take a second. I just need to-” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, a gasp leaves your lips as he pushes two fingers inside you. You’re already wet from all the petting, so by the time he’s finally touching you, he moves with ease. 

“What are you looking for?” You mutter out, hands gripping his head. He doesn’t correct you, but lets you hold onto him for balance. 

“Can’t tell you. Protocol.” His older hand is gripping your thigh, though it’s slowly moving up to grab your butt again. 

“Oh.”

“I think it’s deeper than I initially thought. One minute.” Kai positions himself in front of you to grab one side of your hips, his other hand holding back the lace, then begins to lap at your core with his tongue. He pulls you down onto him to lick deeper, periodically sucking on your clit. The feeling is absolute bliss, not to mention seeing him under you. A moan leaves your lips, and you immediately clamp a hand over your mouth. 

Too late, he heard it. “Please, no talking, ma’am.”

“I’m sorry.” 

You have no idea how he’s not cracking up right now. Then again, Kai has a tendency to take roleplays very seriously. You have a theory that he likes to pretend to be someone else every so often, but you’ve never mentioned this to him. Instead, you just play along into your boyfriend’s fantasies as best you can. After all, he erupts in a fit of content giggles at the end of each session, so you can let it all out then. You both know he can’t be serious for too long. 

“Have you found it yet?”

Kai adds his fingers again and “searches” deeper. “Not yet.”

“Okay.”

“Though I think I can get you to give it up and confess where it is if you’re relaxed enough.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

“You will in a moment.”

Suddenly, he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. You squeal and claw at his back, wanting something to grip. Before you can say anything, though, he sets you down on the desk. Kai pulls your shirt up over your head, but takes a second to admire your set. A lump forms in his throat. 

“You have a very lucky boyfriend,” he comments.

“Seems I also have a very lucky TSA agent.” You bat your eyes playfully, then spread your legs open to him. 

“Naughty girl.”

His tone has you biting your lip. 

His eyes scan over you for a moment and you’re not sure what he’s thinking. Then, he takes the straps of your lingerie and pulls them down your body. When he reaches your waist, he realizes he has to unclip the garter belt before he can get your top off all the way. It takes a moment for him to do this, hands shaking with excitement. His tongue sticks out from between his teeth; his expression is deeply concentrated. 

He finally unclips the two parts of the belt, then tugs your panties down your legs. At last, he finds the solution to the top - unhooking it and letting it drop to the table. The same time he undoes the clasp, something small falls from its place, buried within the top, and hits the ground with a shudder. If he hears it, he doesn’t ask. Nor does he make a comment about the challenge of the set, though you know he’s thinking about it. Instead, he wastes not a minute more, and undresses himself quickly.

As he lines himself up with your entrance, you suddenly ask, “do you do this with all your cases?”

“Only the ones with boyfriends,” he winks.

The urge to laugh is hard, and your hand flies to your mouth again. For a second, you see a little smirk on Kai’s face as he tries not to break character with his own chuckle. 

But then that moment is over as soon as it comes, because he uses your distraction to push into you. You groan at the feeling, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly. He pulls out almost completely, but then rocks his hips back into you before finding a steady pace. 

As expected, his thrusts are aggressive, and you’re gasping for breath. Your tits catch his eyes as they bounce in place. His own grip on you is equal to that you have on him - both will probably leave light bruises for you to find in the morning. 

It isn’t long before you feel yourself losing strength. Your stomach muscles are sore from holding up your body, but when you lean back on the desk, Kai puts his hand out to support your head. He crawls up the length of your torso, kissing your neck and chest, and sucking on your tits. Neither of you will last much longer, but even in roleplays, he makes sure you come first.

“Come on, princess.” It’s the first thing he’s said in a while. It breaks through the obscene sounds of sex like a knife through butter. 

He uses his spare hand to rub your clit. You’re so close to the edge that tears form in your eyes. 

“Come on,” he prompts again. The hand holding up your head moves so it’s around your neck. Slight pressure is added, and Kai clicks his tongue to urge you to finish. 

Then, as if his convincing is exactly what you needed, you come. Your body shudders against the table, shaking, while moans spill out your lips. Your release is all he needs to follow close behind, filling you up with his seed. He pulls out before he softens uncomfortably, but plugs you up with his fingers before too much can escape. 

You take a moment to catch your breath. He helps you sit upright when you do, though, and he gives you a sloppy kiss to the mouth. 

“Relaxed now, ma’am?”

“Uh huh.”

“So where’s the weapon?”

Sleepily, you reply, “fell out of my top. It’s on the ground.” You point lazily to the floor where he now notices a small pocket knife. 

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue. “There it is! Okay…” Kai sets the knife on the table, then fetches an orange juice from the corner of the room. “I need you to drink this, please. It’s very important.”

“Okay.” 

Kai tinkers around while you drink the juice. By the time you finish the bottle, you’re able to stand up by yourself again. 

“Feel better?” He asks, buckling his belt back into place. 

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Good, because I still need to test that you’re not a criminal.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well, you had a knife on you that you tried to hide. And since you’ve been acting suspicious and have been way too sassy with me, I don’t feel comfortable letting you on the plane until I know you’re not a threat of national security.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Right. Give me one finger, please.”

You hold a hand out to him. 

Kai takes the liberty of pressing your pointer finger into something wet and black, and then stamps it down on a piece of paper. “Thank you. Just wait one minute.”

As he stares at the paper, you take to staring at your finger. Hesitantly, you lick it, wondering if he really used ink.

“Don’t lick it,” he reprimands immediately.

“Sorry.” 

It tasted like fruit, like he had mashed up blackberries or something. You want to giggle, but refrain. 

“While this processes, would you like to tell me why you were carrying a knife under your shirt?”

“I keep it there for self defense.”

“Why not in your pocket, or something?”

“Easier for me to grab, harder for attackers to see. But sir, may I add, I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I honestly forgot it was there. I was anxious about having to be in the parking garage and then totally forgot to put it in a better place. I’m really sorry. I promise I’m no threat to anyone.”

He sighs, reading your face. “I understand, ma’am. And it seems you’ve passed the test, so your story checks out.”

“I passed?”

“It appears so.”

“Okay, great!”

“That being said, you’re now free to go. Your stuff is right over there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you for your time. Oh, and might I suggest a few things?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, one, remember to not hide your weapons in your bra when you enter airports.”

“Sorry-”

“Two, throw out those condoms, because obviously, you don’t use them. Considering how fine you were without them ten minutes ago.”

“Excuse me?!”

“And three, you might want to get a pregnancy test. I come from a huge family, seven siblings, to be exact, and I also carry a twin gene.” Kai grins at you. “Have a nice flight!”

Keeping in character, your jaw drops. “Fuck! Are you serious?!” You exclaim loudly.

“Ma’am, please be wary of children in the airport.”

You shake your head in annoyance as you walk up the stairs, bag in hand, and away from him. 

◇◇◇◇

Twenty minutes later, Kai comes upstairs to find you on your bed. He wanted to give you some time to recover on your own, but will only leave you alone for so long before he needs to be by your side again. 

“Hi,” he greets, peering his head around the door.

“Hi, baby.”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

“How are you? Was I too rough? Are you hurt anywhere? Was it too much?”

“Come here,” you gesture for him to join you. “None of those things, pumpkin. It was perfect. You were perfect.”

“Are your wrists bruised?” He asks anyway.

You send a question back before answering him. “Are your hips?”

“Maybe. But I don’t mind. It was worth it.”

“Well, my answer is the same.”

He’s only quiet for a second before continuing. “I liked that piece you had on today. That agent was right - you are a naughty girl.”

“Seems I am.” 

He gives you a kiss, then tucks his head into the crook of your neck with his arms around your waist. He doesn’t budge when you lean back and take him with you. Your head hits the pillow and he only nestles closer. 

After a while, though, he coughs. It’s not a sick cough, but more of a “new topic starter” kind of cough.

“You okay?” 

“Yeah. But I would, um, if I were you…”

“Would what, baby?”

“Take a test… like, a pregnancy test. Because we don’t use those condoms often, I didn’t even remember you had them, and I kinda…. I don’t know, but I think we should do that just in case.”

“You’re probably right. Especially after this time in particular.” You grow warm as you recall it. “We should probably use them more, too, considering how often…” You don’t feel the need to finish your sentence. Kai knows exactly what you mean. 

However, he just grunts. He adjusts slightly, enough to press a kiss to your cheek.

“What?” You pry. “You disagree?”

He shrugs. “I kinda like it being a roll of the dice. Which time are you gonna show up with two blue lines?” Your jaw drops in surprise “I already have a doctor roleplay planned out.” You go silent out of shock. Kai tenses after a minute. “Was that too far? We can use the condoms; I can work them into something.”

“No,” you finally say, “not too far.” A three second flash of the future runs in your mind. The first second, you stare down at a positive test. The second, his hands rest on your growing stomach, pretending to monitor a baby’s growth. The third, the sight of his smile at the prospects of being a father. It’s not something you really expected him to want, yet it seems to be on the forefront of his mind. “Not too far at all,” you repeat. 

Kai noticeably relaxes. “Ease into the doctor thing with me instructing you on the importance of condoms,” he jokes, “and then a couple months later, that conversation was obviously pointless.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Sounds like fun to me.”

“Good.” He nestles closer into you. “I like doing these with you.”

“I like them too, pumpkin. Are you getting tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Well on that note, goodnight. I love you.”

“Goodnight.” He places a kiss on your shoulder, too tired to pull himself back up to your lips. “I love you, too.”

[laufire]

several sentences sunday

My most slice-of-life* WIP is (what's supposed to be) this preboot one-shot with established!Jaytim and past!Jayroy where Tim and Roy somehow end up teaming up, bonding about Jason, and this leads to Jason and Roy reconnecting as friends. Because I want my favourite guy to have good things once in a while, amidst all the dying and suffering and brainwashing and and and several other ordeals I put him through in other stories xD. I've shared earlier versions of this excerpt on DMs and I thought I might as well put it here. Under the cut, because it gets a bit long.

*for now... catch me adding plot smh

-

“I bet you two talked about me,” Jason teased him.

Tim, distractedly setting the table, hummed in confirmation.

“Oh?”

Tim zeroid in on that little sound; on the almost too long pause preceding it. “All good things,” he reassured him, smiling.

Jason’s face remained carefully, uncharacteristically neutral; in someone naturally so expressive, Tim had learned to interpret that as a sign of deep inner turmoil.

“Seriously, Jason,” he added, trying to impress weight on every single syllable, “Roy thinks the world of you.”

Although Jason’s shoulders relaxed, Tim could tell that his mind wasn’t in the room with them, not wholly, for the duration of their dinner.

Later, when Jason, even silent and pensive as he was, maintained the routine of keeping him company while he insisted on doing the dishes, guest or not, as it'd been Jason's turn to cook, Tim took a deep breath and told him: “You could call him.”

“You want me to reconnect with my ex?” Jason asked, words dripping skepticism.

The truth was that, initially, Tim had briefly entertained the idea of saying the same thing to Roy, imagining he'd be less likely than Jason to overthink it and take a first step that'd Jason have to react to. Old habits died hard, but the few conversations about what Jason had to say about Tim's mediation and meddling and busybody tendencies did their work.

The reason why the idea came to Tim at all was that after just a few hours with the man, it was plain to see that Roy, even if they hadn’t actually spoken in a couple of years, was someone who could be counted on to be in Jason’s corner.

Tim still remembered the first time he spoke with Talia after he started dating Jason. It couldn’t be called a shovel talk; Tim had been the target of one or two of those, and they all dripped paternalism, condescendence, and a lack of respect for the boundaries of the person they were supposed to shield. Talia clearly respected Jason’s choice –she, simply, didn’t think much of Tim, on his own. But although she didn’t have the warmest way to show it, Jason was one of her favourite people in the world, and if that was the close he'd get to a shovel talk on his behalf, it was the first one Tim was happy to receive.

It was also in stark contrast to Bruce’s reaction when Tim told him. He’d bypassed all the arguments about why Jason would be bad for Tim, maybe presuming someone else had already failed to convey them, and instead spoke of all the ways Jason wasn’t mentally capable of handling a relationship, and of all the ways Tim would set him back once their relationship inevitably went down in flames. Tim had gone cold, utterly furious, and warned Bruce off repeating those words aloud anywhere Jason could hear them.

Roy, albeit cordial and warm in comparison, had landed on the Talia-est end of the spectrum. He'd clearly taken the mission as an opportunity to suss Tim out, proding to see if he was good to Jason, and showing at every turn that he knew well the value of what Tim had with him. It was a novelty in his circle.

To sum it up: Tim would welcome in anyone who was on Jason’s side, truly on Jason’s side, no matter what they thought of Tim’s presence in his life or how it could affect him. And Roy seemed to fit the criteria.

“If you think that’s something you’d like to do, then yes: I want you to reconnect with your ex,” he parroted.

[liminalmemories21]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad, @heartstringsduet, @paperstorm, @bonheur-cafe, @lemonlyman-dotcom,

@ladytessa74, @whatsintheboxmh, @carlos-in-glasses, and @strandnreyes

Thank you!

Latest Buck/Tommy fic (w/ @cecilyv) is so close to completion. We're both using it as a distraction from real life. Have something entirely different instead.

In which the author has some things she'd like to work out about Paris tourist attractions. Seriously, ask me for my potted Paris tour guide.

Also, this is legitimately the most self-indulgent thing I have ever committed to paper (well, virtual paper).

Caffrey slides into the third seat at their table again the next afternoon.  TK slides his sunglasses down his nose. He really is unbearably sexy sometimes.  Carlos makes a note to do something about that this evening.  "Caffrey." Caffrey looks wistful for a moment.  "Been a while since anyone called me that."  Smiles brightly.  "So, what did we see today?" Carlos raises an eyebrow at TK who shrugs.  "The Rodin museum, and then just wandering around St Germain.  Bought a lot of cheese." Caffrey nods genially.  "Excellent."  He glances at TK who is suspiciously quiet.  "Where else have you been?" Carlos gives TK another look, but he's apparently studying the menu.  "St Chapelle, the flower market, Notre Dame, Palais Royal.  We're planning on going out to Vaux le Vicomte later this week." Caffrey nods. "Good choice.  Much less crowded than Versailles, same aesthetic."  TK nods absently without looking up, it's more or less what he had said.  Well, no, TK had said, "only if you want to know how cattle being led to slaughter feel," and then suggested Vaux le Vicomte as an acceptable alternative.  Carlos is basically just along for the ride here.  Caffrey taps a finger on the table.  "Not the Louvre?" "Not unless I'm allowed to break in after hours," TK mutters. Caffrey grins.  "I could help with that."  He and TK share sharp smiles that look more like bared teeth.  "The Mona Lisa is overrated." That gets TK to put down his menu.  "Caffrey, why are you here?" Caffrey taps the table.  "I have a small thing I was wondering if you'd like to help with." TK narrows his eyes.  "I don't do that anymore."  Gestures at Carlos, "and he's a cop." Caffrey hums.  "Yes, I'd heard." TK grins suddenly.  "How is Mozzie?" "Says hello.  Said to tell you Jack says the women in Brazil are looking particularly fine this year."  TK snorts.

tagging @carlos-tk, @vineofroses, @freneticfloetry, and @welcometololaland