#20. TWENTY. FUCKING FICS. that i need to work on

[ifangirlalot]

could you write a fingering smutfic w reader x mike or richie?? I love your fics 😭‼️

˗ˏˋ 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐒 ˎˊ˗ | starring mike wheeler & richie tozier

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

*~smut!~* [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘]: fingering, lewd language, no p in v this time

You guys do know it's okay to request for more than one character, right? I'm more than happy to do more than one :p

Also, sorry to disappoint, but requests are off until further notice, I have like 20 something in my inbox that I need to get...... :')

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

┊ ˚➶ ｡Mike Wheeler ˚ ☁️

Mike Wheeler was most certainly not a "ladies' man". Mike Wheeler was a nerd. He spent most of his time playing nerdy fantasy RPG games in his basement with his friends. He didn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman.

Or at least, he didn't think he did.

But from the way [Name] was currently writhing underneath the tips of his fingers, the way her plump pink lips were opened into an 'o' shape, the lewd, pornographic moans slipping through as she screamed at him for more, he was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, he was better at it than he gave himself credit for.

[Name]'s fingers closed around his wrist as his two digits continued to piston in and out of her wet, gummy opening. "Oh god- oh god, Michael, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop!" she begged, panting heavily for a few moments before elicting another loud moan.

Mike's teeth sank into his lower lip as he slowly circled her clit with his thumb. He watched with fascination as she parted her legs even further apart, chewing on her own lip as she looked between her legs, watching his fingers appear and disappear from her pussy opening.

"Cumming soon." [Name] announced, tilting her head back against the pillow.

With new motivation, Mike pulled his fingers out slightly and jammed them back in at a new speed. He could hear the wet pap sound his fingers made every time they thrusted into her sweet, wet hole. She was so wet he could see the moisture glistening beneath the dim lighting in his basement.

And then she came. With a series of throaty moans, high pitched gasping, and loud whimpers, [Name] spilled her orgasmic liquids all over his fingers. He could feel the bulge in his pants throbbing as he watched the thick, cream colored liquid drip down his wrist.

┊ ˚➶ ｡Richie Tozier ˚ ☁️

Richie pretended to be into the movie playing at the Derry theater. He really did. But he just couldn't. The damn thing was so fucking boring. So about twenty minutes in, he walked his fingers between he and [Name]'s seats and to her thighs. She was wearing a sundress tonight. Lucky for him, right?

Keeping his gaze straight ahead so as not to draw attention to himself, he pushed the hem of the dress skirt up slowly with his index finger. He could feel the soft, smooth skin of her thigh beneath his fingertip.

[Name] gasped, quickly pushing his hand away. "Richie, are you crazy?!" she hissed, her face flaming red with embarrassment. "Not here, we're in pub-"

Richie cut her off. "Shhh… Just relax, doll. Lemme work my magic."

Evidentally, she wasn't too objected to him, as she didn't protest again. On the contrary, she cracked her legs open slightly. Richie smirked to himself and slowly pushed his hand up her skirt again.

His fingers reached what he wanted and he let out a low, satisfied hum. "Hm… all wet, doll? Damn girl.. already?" Richie smirked and pushed the girl's panties aside.

As his fingers began working her over slowly, [Name] let out a soft moan and reached between her legs, placing her hand over Richie's above her clothes. Richie inserted two digits into her sweet, juicy cunt and slowly thrusted them, his thumb brushing her clit in quick stroking motions. He wanted so badly to finger fuck the shit out of her, but he didn't want the noise of her sopping cunt to draw attention over, so he kept his thrusts slow and even.

[Name] could barely contain herself as is anyway. She squirmed and whimpered through her clamped shut lips, her hand pushing against Richie's and trying to get his fingers to go in deeper, deeper.

Her sounds were starting to get to him. He could feel his cock stirring to life in his jeans and he groaned quietly, wanting nothing more than to bury inside her pussy to relieve the both of them. But instead, he pummeled his fingers deeper into her cunt and ticked off the minutes until this damn movie was over.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.

Chapter Synopsis: Oliver Aiku isn’t sure which entity he’s wronged to earn this kind of treatment, but somehow, in the days before the match against Blue Lock, he’s stuck watching over the team’s newest addition: Sae Itoshi, a rude midfielder who’d rather be in Spain (or in hell) than hanging out with him. Things get a little more complicated, though, when a cup of shitty coffee leads to a crush and Aiku is forced to intervene.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sae x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.9k

Content Warnings: crack fic, sae my awkward goat, love at first sight, oliver aiku is such a bitch but he’s funny so it’s kind of okay, reader has to work in customer service 😓, this is really dumb please don’t judge my writing off of it, sae is 100% ooc don’t come at me i KNOWWW, split perspectives (it makes sense in the story), sae slander (from aiku), reader is a fan girl but she keeps it 𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙, reader’s dad has cameos but he’s just chilling tbh

A/N: the people wanted sae’s version to be posted first so uhhh here we are!! LMAO it kind of got a bit long (as usual) but it’s very silly and goofy!! anyways so this is the first entry in “oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls” i hope you all stick around for the rest 🤩‼️

Oliver Aiku likes to think he’s a fairly nice guy. He visits his grandmother every weekend, he rescues kittens from gutters (okay, it only happened once, but he still did it, so it counts), and he’s good enough at being captain of the Japanese U-20s that none of his teammates really hate him, so all in all, he can’t be doing that bad of a job. Yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s a great person, a stand-up fellow, an upstanding member of society — so why the fuck is Sae Itoshi glaring at him like that?

“What?” he says, because it was fine for the first, say, twenty minutes or so, but now it’s gone from annoying to just plain concerning. “Something going on with you?”

Sae stares at him for a moment longer, and Aiku wonders if he’s trying to communicate via telepathy. That’s a skill he’s never picked up, though, so he can only wait for Sae to speak up, which, thankfully, he eventually does.

“This coffee is shit,” he says. The way he speaks is dull and blank, his lips pinched together and his brows low over his eyes. It’s kind of a shame, in Aiku’s highly professional opinion. He’d be handsome if he smiled more; or, if not handsome, at least approachable enough to not scare away every single girl that dared to even glance at him.

“It’s not my fault,” Aiku says. “Take it up with the barista or something.”

“You’re the one who brought me here, so it is your fault,” Sae says. Aiku crosses his arms, because isn’t Sae younger than him? This feels like a level of disrespect he shouldn’t tolerate, prodigy or not.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. In hindsight, it’s not the most mature response he could’ve come up with, and Sae seems to agree, snorting derisively before using a napkin to dab at a drip of coffee running down the side of his cup.

“What a captain,” he says with a sigh. “No wonder you guys need me to play for you against those Blue Lock idiots.”

Aiku should be offended, he really should be — and he is! He is, and he’s just about to muster up some scathing retort that’ll definitely leave Sae Itoshi trembling, but then Sae’s standing up with purpose, so now he’s just intrigued instead of insulted. He follows after him as Sae holds the coffee in one hand and marches towards the counter, and when he realizes what’s about to happen, he preemptively cringes.

“Don’t yell at service workers!” Aiku says. It would’ve been heroic if he had said it loud enough for Sae to hear him, but unfortunately, it’s more of a whisper than the brave shout he had intended for it to be, so he just looks kind of stupid, as if he regularly talks to himself or something.

“Hey,” Sae says to the boy at the counter. He’s young, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen, and Aiku prays that he’s not the target of Sae’s ire. “Who made this?”

The boy squints at Sae’s cup, reading the receipt, and then he smiles innocently. “That was Y/N. Did you want to talk to her?”

“Yes,” Sae says bluntly. Aiku is about to thank whichever deity was watching over him and that boy alike, but he pauses when the rest of the kid’s statement registers. Her? Her? Is Sae seriously about to yell at a girl for making bad coffee? If she’s hot, he’ll kill Sae, no doubt about it. “And tell her to make it quick. We don’t have all day, and she’s already wasted enough of our time.”

Yeah, he’s definitely going to kill him. 

“Y/N,” a voice whispers. You’re untying your apron — your shift is just about over, and you’re ready to clock out, but for some reason your young coworker is peering into the kitchen nervously and gesturing for you to come with him. Normally, you’d tell him to handle things himself, but he’s new, so you decide to be responsible for once and follow after him, muttering curses to yourself as you retie your apron.

“What’s the matter? Did you spill something?” you say. He shakes his head, raising his hand and pointing at the counter, where two customers are waiting. You frown, because you’re pretty sure you already gave them their drinks, so there’s no reason for them to be standing there, unless maybe they want to reorder. “Wait. Did you call me to take their order? No way! My shift is over in thirty seconds!”

“No, no, I didn’t,” your coworker says. “They want to talk to you.”

“Me? Like me, specifically?” you say. He nods.

“Yeah, they asked for you by name and everything,” he says earnestly. “I think they’re mad, though.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, because the last thing you want to do is deal with a couple of prissy customers, especially not when you’re supposed to be heading home already. However, your coworker seems to be on the verge of tears, and some kind of sisterly affection tugs at your heartstrings, so you pat him on the shoulder and take his spot at the counter.

“Hi, this is Y/N. My coworker told me you needed to see me. How can I help you?” you say. Your voice is chipper and your smile is false, but they don’t need to know that. You’ve been working at the coffee shop for long enough that you’re practiced at pretending, and you know for a fact that your coworker is standing shyly at your side, probably astonished by the quality of your performance.

For a moment, neither man speaks, so you get to stare at them and make your own assumptions about who they are and what their backstories might be. It’s kind of like a hobby, a pastime for when things are slow or you’re generally annoyed about your job. You’ve developed it over the years, and luckily, these two are prime candidates for the game.

The one on the left is tall and broad, with dark hair and mysterious eyes. Curiously, one is a bright green, while the other is a softer violet, and there’s a few-days-old stubble growing on his square face, like a shadow running along his jaw. It gives him a rough appearance, like he owns a motorcycle and frequently wears leather jackets, but you want to believe that he’s gentle at heart. Maybe he has a fondness for baby animals or he likes to bake cookies or something along those lines.

The one on the right is shorter than his counterpart, and his hair is red like a sunset, pushed carelessly out of his haughty face. He’s wearing a sweater that matches his eyes, though the teal of the knitted fabric is much more muted, and you’re about to come up with some kind of fantastical explanation for who he might be when you realize that you know him.

He clears his throat, and you scramble to stand up straighter, internally screaming, because what are the odds that you’ve somehow managed to piss off the star player of your favorite soccer club’s youth team? You wonder what your father will think of you now. You wonder what you think of yourself now. What should you do? Should you tell him you recognize him? Ask for an autograph? Or should you play it cool and pretend like you don’t know him? What if he yells at you?

Actually, you wouldn’t mind it as much as normally do. When everyday customers start screaming at you for some perceived wrong that you’ve supposedly committed, you typically tune them out, and then you make fun of them with your coworkers in the back, but if it’s Sae Itoshi…well. you’ll certainly listen to every word he says, and when you return to the kitchen, you’ll write them down somewhere so you can remember the moment forever.

“He didn’t like his drink,” he says, pointing at the dark haired man.

“What?” the man shrieks. The pitch is higher than you would’ve expected from someone of his size, but it appears he realizes that, too, because then he’s coughing. “I mean, what? What are you talking about?”

“You were just complaining, Aiku,” Sae says. “You even made me come up here and get mad at this girl for you.”

The other man, who you guess is named Aiku, is turning a strange shade between magenta and beet-red, and you’re surprised there isn’t steam coming out of his ears. Given that you don’t really care about him that much, you’re instantly irritated again, because why would it matter if he didn’t like his drink? Still, you have to keep up appearances.

“My apologies, sir. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” you say. 

“No!” Aiku says. “No, it’s — hey, Sae, you were the one who was all upset, so why are you putting it on me?”

“Hm?” Sae says, obviously uninterested in the conversation already. “I dunno. Maybe it happened like that, or maybe not.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, more than a little bewildered. “Ah, I’m new here, so I’m still learning.”

Aiku, who has returned to a more normal and human color, smiles at you kindly, and he’s about to respond, ostensibly to reassure you, but then your damned coworker pipes up: “No, she’s not.”

“Ah, sorry?” Aiku says.

“She’s not new,” your coworker says again.

“‘New’ is a subjective term,” you say mechanically, wishing that it was acceptable for you to turn around and hit him in public whenever you wanted.

“I don’t think anyone would consider you to be new when you’ve been working here for three years,” your coworker says. You can imagine the innocent, guileless expression on his face right now. You want to do something violent to it.

“Ha, ha,” you say. You think your eye might twitch, too, but if Aiku or Sae notice, then neither of them point it out. “What a knowledgeable fellow we have back here.”

“It’s alright,” Aiku says. “I didn’t mind the drink. Sae’s the one who threw a fit about it.”

“I liked it,” Sae says stubbornly. “It was fine.”

You step in before Aiku can turn magenta again, because that’s probably unhealthy for him, and you don’t want to be held liable for a customer dying on your watch when you’re not even being paid for it.

“Anyways, is that all? I’m actually done with my shift, so if you guys don’t need anything else…” you trail off, though inside you’re screaming something along the lines of Sae Itoshi, please notice me and give me your autograph and oh, if you could fall in love with me, too, that would be amazing!

Of course, you can’t verbalize anything like that, so you just smile and wave until the door slams shut behind them. Then you’re yanking your apron off and balling it up before chucking it at your coworker’s face. It hits him in the nose and slides to the ground; he gives you an offended look before picking it up.

“You’re lucky it was only an apron,” you say. “You owe me big time, you little shit.”

“Huh?” he says.

“I won’t forget this!” you warn him, stomping towards the small locker room, where your precious phone is waiting for you. “You’re a major-league jerk, okay? Don’t ever ask me to cover another shift for you again!”

“Huh?” 

“What the hell was that?” Aiku snaps as soon as they’ve left the cafe, because this is totally not what he was expecting when his coach told him that he had to treat Sae nicely and make him feel welcome. 

“What was what?” Sae says. He’s sipping on his coffee sedately now, even though he was complaining about it only minutes earlier.

“Since when was I the one who was upset about my coffee?” Aiku says.

“I have a bad memory,” Sae deadpans. “I guess it could’ve been either of us.”

“That was not believable in the slightest,” Aiku feels the need to inform him. Judging by Sae’s expression, it wasn’t meant to be believable, though, and Aiku sighs. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You were just going crazy and glaring at me because you thought the coffee sucked, and now you think it’s good?”

“I should’ve waited for it to cool,” Sae says. “It’s better now. I was being hasty.”

“Uh-huh,” Aiku says. “Sure. Let’s do something else tomorrow. I don’t ever want to go back there. I don’t think I can face that girl again. She was so hot, too, and now she probably thinks I’m some ungrateful asshole…”

“I want to go back,” Sae says immediately, throwing the now-empty cup into the nearest trash can. Aiku furrows his brow at him, trying to puzzle out this latest contradiction and finding himself utterly unable to. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Aiku repeats dubiously. Tomorrow he has practice, and technically so does Sae. However, they both know that Sae doesn’t need anything as ridiculous as practice in order to win against a team of eleven high-school forwards, and he’s fairly confident that his coach will tell him to accompany the bratty Itoshi instead of showing up, since the JFU is pulling out all of the stops if it means getting Sae to stay in Japan for good.

“Tomorrow,” Sae reaffirms.

I’m a nice guy, Aiku tries to remind himself. This is what nice guys do. I’m boosting team morale. Yeah. That’s all. Captain’s duties.

Still, as he chases after Sae, who apparently doesn’t know what the word ‘stroll’ means and prefers to do everything at a brisk pace more akin to a jog, he thinks that this entire ridiculous assignment feels more like a babysitter’s duties than anything. 

“Are you serious?” your father says. In the background, the TV is playing a game between Re Al and Barcha, which is rather fitting.

“Deadly,” you say, untying the laces of your sneakers and putting them with the rest of your shoes. “It was actually him.”

“Sae Itoshi,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s back from Spain?”

“Seems like it,” you say, though now that he mentions it, you’re as confused as he is. Why is Sae Itoshi here instead of Madrid? You glance at the TV — Barcha has just scored, and the cameras are sweeping through the crowds, showing the excited fans cheering — and wonder if maybe he was fired or something. You doubt that that’s what happened; after all, he’s a consistent player, and the last time he was in a match, he even managed to outmaneuver that freaky striker who plays for Bastard München, so it would make zero sense for Re Al to let him go. Besides, even if they did, you’re sure there’s dozens of clubs that would be willing to take him, so there must be another reason for his presence in Japan.

“Huh,” your father says. “Well. Good for him.” 

“I guess so,” you say. “If I ever see him again, I’ll ask him what he’s doing in town.”

Your father chuckles, taking a sip of his beer and giving you a thumbs up. “Yeah, you do that. Let me know what he says.”

You laugh, too, sitting down at the counter and eating a plate of reheated leftovers, because you know as well as your father that the idea of you ever seeing Sae Itoshi again is more than a little far-fetched. But it’s a nice thought, and anyways the chances are never zero, so for the moment, you allow yourself to imagine. 

Aiku is seriously questioning if Sae Itoshi was sent to this earth — or at least to this country — as some kind of punishment for him. He’s not really sure what’s done that would invite such cosmic retribution, but maybe it’s one of those…what did that girl call them? Karmic debts? She had said something about the sins of his past life and all, though he can’t recall the specifics.

Wait. That’s wrong. He just never learnt them in the first place, so how could he remember them in the first place? He had broken up with her before she could explain her theories to him. This prompts a wince from him, which is further fueled by the way his t-shirt sticks to his back with sweat. It’s a distinctively uncomfortable feeling, and he’s contemplating complaining, even though it probably won’t do much.

“Shut up,” Sae says.

“I didn’t say anything!” Aiku protests, more than a little spooked, since he actually had been about to say something before Sae had cut him off.

“I can see you making faces at me,” Sae says. Considering Sae is walking ahead of him and to the side, Aiku’s not quite sure how he could tell anything about what sorts of faces Aiku is making, but unfortunately, he’s uncannily correct as always, so Aiku schools his expression into a smooth, neutral one that won’t beget reprimand from his companion.

“I can’t believe you insisted on going here straight after practice,” he says.

“This is the same time we went yesterday,” Sae says. He’s kind of an insufferable smart-ass, Aiku thinks to himself, though he’d never say as much to Sae’s face. After all, unlike his counterpart, he’s considerate like that, and he always has been.

“So? We didn’t have practice yesterday,” Aiku says. “You couldn’t even let me shower?”

“You take forever in the showers,” Sae says. This is rich, for Sae is notoriously obsessive with his skincare, and of the entire team, he takes far and away the longest to get ready. But, then again, Aiku supposes that idiocy is one of those illnesses which spreads further and further until all of one’s perspectives are tainted with the virus.

“I could’ve been quick,” he says. “It would’ve been better if I could’ve at least rinsed off so I didn’t look so gross. I want to impress that Y/N girl if she’s there again today.”

“You’re not her type,” Sae says dismissively. “So why bother?”

“How do you know? Are the two of you childhood buddies or something?” Aiku says. Sae glances at him, and of course he’s way too holier-than-thou to properly sneer, but the corners of his lips turn downwards to the same effect.

“Not too hard to figure out,” he says. 

“Well, hold on just a moment! I got the vibe that she was totally into me yesterday!” Aiku says. He actually did not get any such vibes from the barista; the only thing she seemed into was clocking out, but he’s Oliver Aiku. If he can’t get a girl, he can’t do anything. Besides, it’s not like Sae would be able to tell one way or another — Aiku and his teammate Sendou have a theory that Sae was created in a lab as some kind of experiment to make the world’s best midfielder, because the guy really doesn’t have any knowledge or concern for anything that’s unrelated to soccer.

True to form, Sae blinks unsurely. “Really?”

“Yeah, one hundred percent,” Aiku boasts, although then he’s narrowing his eyes, because such a question is so out of Sae’s character that for a moment, he wonders if there’s been a mistake and he’s actually taken some other team member of his along for this ridiculous errand.

Messy red hair. Teal eyes. Forehead creased with a frown. No, it’s definitely Sae Itoshi, that’s for sure. Just Sae Itoshi in a mood that he’s never seen before. If they were a little closer, he’d ask him what’s the big deal now, but as it is, the question would probably go unappreciated.

“Hm,” Sae says. “Whatever. We’ll see.”

“Sure,” Aiku says slowly, reaching out to hold open the door of the cafe so he can enter behind Sae, since his lovely, amazing, wonderful, kindhearted teammate so generously left it to slam shut in his face. 

What a total dick. He makes a mental note to ask the JFU for a raise, because whatever they’re giving him at the moment is definitely not enough. 

“They’re back again!” your coworker says. You’re still mad at him for yesterday, so you’ve been giving him the silent treatment the entire shift. It hasn’t gone unnoticed, but his pitiful attempts at reconciliation never include an apology, so you haven’t budged yet.

He waits for you to respond, but you’re pretty sure he’s making stuff up to get you to pay attention to him, and anyways they could be in reference to anyone, so you continue to pour milk into a cup, acting like it’s an all-consuming task which you cannot possibly complete without the utmost of concentration.

“I’m being serious! Y/N, it’s Sae Itoshi and, uh, that other dude!” he says. Your hand wobbles for the briefest moment, but you conclude that he’s most likely lying, so you steady yourself and continue pouring the milk. “Fine, be that way! I’ll serve them myself!”

You can’t even say something snarky in response, because that’ll still be a win on his part, so you huff particularly loudly to no one in particular and leave it at that.

A few minutes later, he’s back, looking so contrite that if you weren’t upset with him, you’d actually be worried. Unfortunately, you very much are upset with him, so you find it on the whole to be rather hilarious and have to suppress a laugh. 

He must take your amusement as a signal to talk, because he speaks eagerly and quickly, stumbling over his words and clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Y/N, Y/N, they’re insisting on seeing you, I told them you’re working right now — I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to do that, right? But I did, and now they really want to see you!” he says.

You’re still not entirely convinced, but if this is an act, then it’s a dedicated one, and you don’t think that he possesses that much dedication in all of his body, so maybe he’s actually telling the truth.

“Fine,” you say. “But if you’re lying, I swear I’m telling our manager to fire you.”

“I’m not!” he squeaks, darting back to the counter, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to catch up to him.

When you reach the front, you’re surprised to see that it is in fact Sae Itoshi and…whoever that other guy is. Aiku? Yes, that sounds right. It’s Sae and Aiku, and one looks supremely inconvenienced — this would be Sae, of course — while his friend is running a hand through his sweaty hair, flashing you a grin.

You smile back at him, because that’s what you’re trained to do, and you don’t want your coworker to tattle to your manager that you’re not abiding by the cafe’s standards of customer service. Then you stare at them until one of them starts speaking, because that’s what your entire job is, and no matter how badly you want to start gushing to Sae Itoshi about how big of a fan you are, you have to remain professional.

“Is there anything I can do for you two?” you finally say. This prompts Aiku to nod, nudging Sae in the side, which earns him a dark glare.

“I want the number two, and he’ll take the number five,” Aiku says when Sae does not speak up. You want to tell him that nobody orders like that, but you’re not supposed to and it’s really not that big of a deal either way, so you just ring up the order.

“Sounds good. Would you like to pay with cash or credit?” you say.

“Credit,” Sae says, pulling out a card that probably has a monthly spending limit higher than what you make in a year. “And we’re splitting the bill, just so you know.”

What you want to say is Wow, Sae, you’re somehow even cooler in real-life! Who’s your favorite soccer player? What’s your favorite food? Do you like Spain better, or here? What you actually say is: “No problem. I’ll have those right out for you.”

“Thanks,” Aiku says. He’s kind of charming, in a sense; you can think of several friends you have that would probably swoon at the way his smile stretches across his face, but you don’t really see the appeal. Or, maybe you would normally, but at the moment, he’s standing next to Sae Itoshi, so it’s a little hard to focus on him at all.

“Yeah,” Sae says. “Thank you. Y/N.”

He’s probably just reading off of your name tag in an effort to seem more friendly and relatable and humble and all. It’s a classic PR move that he was probably taught as soon as he joined Re Al. You know about it, though, so it shouldn’t work on you. It won’t work on you. He’s just doing what he’s trained to, the same as you are.

It works on you. You run to the back and hide your face in your hands and squeal, because Sae fucking Itoshi just said your name. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Aiku says.

“Are we just listing curse words now?” Sae says dryly. “Bitch, cunt, hell. There’s three more for you.”

“You like the barista!” Aiku accuses. If Sae was drinking something, he would’ve spit it out just then, but he’s not, so he just chokes on his saliva. 

“No way,” he says.

“Yes, you do! How else can you explain this?” Aiku says, pitching his voice up in an imitation of Sae’s. “Yeah. Thank you. Y/N. Since when do you say thank you to people?”

“Since always? I have manners,” Sae says.

“I’ve never heard you say it,” Aiku says.

“Maybe that’s more telling about you than me,” Sae suggests. Aiku scowls at him.

“You definitely like her,” he says. “No judgment here, man. She’s pretty.”

“Whatever,” Sae says. “Even if I did like her — mind you, I don’t — she’s clearly into you.”

“Me?” Aiku says. “I was just messing with you earlier, you know. Anyways, yeah, I think she’s hot, but, like, you’ve never liked a girl before, right? So I wouldn’t get in the way of that. This is a big step.”

“You’re not getting in the way of anything. Do what you want,” Sae says. 

Aiku’s already pulling out his phone and texting Sendou: big news. Lab experiment just evolved. Feels attraction and jealousy now.

“Uh-huh,” he responds absentmindedly. Sendou texts back with about fifty mind-blown emojis, and he snickers to himself, liking the message.

“Anyways, who told you I’ve never liked anyone before?” Sae says defensively. Aiku just about drops his phone, leaning forwards in interest. Could it be? Are he and Sae actually bonding? Is Sae about to tell him about his first love — who apparently is not this barista?

“I just guessed. Was I wrong?” Aiku says. He’s already trying to come up with who Sae might’ve liked — a childhood neighbor or friend? A women’s soccer player he admired? A girl he saw once in Spain but never again? Oh, that last one is particularly romantic…he’s just about accepted it as fact when Sae glares at him.

“No,” he says. Aiku’s dreams are shattered in an instant, but he can only shake his head while chuckling, both because Sae has inadvertently admitted that he actually does like that Y/N girl, and because he was an idiot for believing that ‘Sae Itoshi’ and ‘romantic’ could ever belong together in one sentence.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

“What do I do?” you say. You and your coworker are back on speaking terms, mostly because you have no one else to talk to and are so desperate that you’re willing to temporarily forgive him. 

“Make their drinks?” he says. You give him a dirty look as you begin mixing up their orders. 

“Not about that. I’m such a huge fan of Sae’s, and this is the second time I’m making a drink for him. It’s kind of like fate, don’t you think? Should I try to talk to him or something?” you say.

“Do you want to?” your coworker says. It’s a slower time of day, so he has nothing to do but sit and watch you — at least, nothing immediate. There’s certainly things he could be doing, but you’re not about to chide him when you’re the reason he’s slacking off.

“Obviously! But what am I supposed to even say? I’ll sound like a creep if I just start acting like a fan-girl!” you say.

“That’s true,” your coworker says. “You kind of sound like one even now…”

“Ugh, if you’re not going to be helpful, then go organize the storeroom or something!”

“What about her makes you like her?” Aiku presses.

“Are we still on this?” Sae says, as if they’ve been talking about it for hours. “I don’t like her.”

“It’s not like you talked to her for a while…was it really just her looks?” Aiku says. “Damn. Didn’t think you were the shallow type.”

“I am not the shallow type!” Sae says.

“That sounds like something that a shallow person would say,” Aiku teases.

“Shut up,” Sae says. Aiku doesn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many times Sae’s said that particular phrase to him. Maybe if he counted all of the fingers and all of the toes of every single person in the world, he would get kind of close to what that number might be. “I’m not shallow, I don’t like her, and she’s obviously way more interested in talking to you than me, so get off my back.”

Aiku whistles. “Someone’s jealous.”

“I’m telling the JFU that you were the one who sent me back to Spain,” Sae informs him bluntly. Aiku isn’t sure if that’s a joke or a legitimate threat. It’s hard to tell with Sae sometimes.

“Are you serious?” Aiku says.

“Deadly,” Sae says.

Yep, Aiku decides. He’s serious. 

“If only that Aiku dude wasn’t there,” you lament, setting the first drink in the pick-up area and calling out Aiku’s name before returning to finish Sae’s drink. “It’d be way easier to talk to Sae without someone there to judge everything I’m saying.”

“Do you think he’d even care?” your coworker says. You shrug.

“No idea. It’s intimidating to talk to guys around their friends, though. You’re a guy yourself, so you wouldn’t get it,” you say.

“Are they even friends?” your coworker says. “Doesn’t seem like they get along that well.”

In unison, the two of you turn so you can look at the duo, who are sitting at a table right within your line of sight. As your coworker said, they don’t look like they’re friends in the slightest. Aiku is sipping on his drink with a smirk, and Sae looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than be sitting there with his not-friend.

“The point still stands,” you say. 

“Guess so,” your coworker says. Just then, Sae Itoshi happens to glance over, making direct eye contact with you. Your eyebrows raise, and your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught. Aiku turns to follow Sae’s line of sight as you weigh your options. Should you pretend like you weren’t doing anything? Should you wave?

You decide to just smile again before returning to the drink you were supposed to be working on. Your coworker, who saw the entire exchange, cannot stop laughing.

“It’s over for you,” he says. “He definitely thinks you’re a creepy fan-girl now. You can kiss that autograph goodbye.”

“You’re lucky I’m too lazy to remake this drink,” you say. “Because otherwise, I’d spill it on you.”

“That’s against company policy,” he says.

“By accident, of course,” you say with a malicious grin.

“That’s against company policy, too!” 

“Look, she just smiled at you. I bet she was looking at you the entire time,” Sae says coolly. “You should ask for her number. You already said you think she’s beautiful.”

“I said she’s hot. I’m not all poetic and shit like that,” Aiku says. “And I wouldn’t do that. It’s against the bro code.”

“We’re not ‘bros’, so you can put that out of your head,” Sae says.

“What if I help you get her number?” Aiku says. Sae tries very hard to maintain his nonchalant look, but Aiku can tell that his curiosity has been piqued. “Will you consider me a bro then? At the minimum, will you tell the JFU that I’ve done a great job at showing you around and making you feel welcome?”

Please please please please please I really need a fucking raise Sae I’m broke please please please — 

“Sure,” Sae says.

“Sure?” Aiku says. “Yes! Okay, this will be easy.”

Sae scoffs. “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you think.”

“Believe me,” Aiku says. “You’re in the presence of a master.”

Sae doesn’t even dignify that with a response beyond the most disgusted look Aiku has ever seen on anyone, Sae or not. He’d say something, but he’s pretty sure he deserves it at least a little, and anyways a possible raise is way more important to him than being right, so he keeps his mouth shut, simply giving Sae a double-thumbs-up. He’s going to ace this new assignment, and then maybe he’ll actually be paid what he’s worth instead of pennies on the dime.

You’re about to call out Sae’s name when you realize that for some reason, both Aiku and Sae are standing there and waiting for you. You furrow your brow, because it’s both a menacing and a comical sight — the hulking Aiku, who looks like he’s about to go punch a criminal on television before flipping his hair and telling the ladies that there’s enough of him to go around, and the slender Sae Itoshi, who you can’t imagine doing anything but slamming a winning pass to one of his teammates, invariably leading to a soccer ball in his opponent’s net.

“Uh, hello,” you say.

“Hello,” Aiku says.

“Hi,” Sae says.

“I have your drink,” you say to Sae.

“I know,” he says, taking it from your hand. Of course — why else would they be here? They must’ve seen you finishing up the drink and rightly assumed that it was theirs.

“Right,” you say. Neither of them go to leave, and now you wonder if they just don’t understand social cues or something like that. “Did you guys want to order something else? My coworker would be happy to take you at the counter.”

“No,” Sae says.

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Well, I hope you enjoy your drinks.”

“We will,” Sae says with the utmost of confidence. Aiku groans and then thumps him on the back. You have a feeling you probably don’t want to know what the significance of the gesture is, but then you realize that this is probably the only chance you’ll get to have a proper conversation with Sae Itoshi, so you shove your concerns aside.

“Wait! If it doesn’t bother you too much, can I ask you a question?” you say. It’s an incredibly awkward way of going about it, but given how awkward this entire interaction has been, you don’t think it’s a huge deal. 

“Go ahead,” Aiku says. You weren’t asking him, but you guess the permission covers them both, so you square your shoulders and face Sae Itoshi, who seems entirely confused that you’re looking at him instead of Aiku. You’re not sure why he would be, since between the two of them he’s the celebrity, but maybe there’s some weird dynamic going on that you’re unaware of.

It doesn’t matter to you, though. You only have one thing to ask. You’ll never cross paths with Sae again, will you? So it’s fine. You can act a little embarrassing, and anyways, you barely make above minimum wage, so if your manager gets too upset and fires you for ‘unprofessional conduct’ or something, it won’t be a huge loss. It’ll be worth it, even, considering this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance and your coworker is busy reorganizing the storeroom like you told him to, so he’s not around to spy on you and report back to your stodgy old manager.

Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth and begin to speak. 

Aiku hadn’t dared to even dream of the possibility that the barista might already like Sae, too. Why would she? Sae had just been all weird and rude to her in the couple of times that they had spoken, so all in all she’d have to be somewhat of a masochist, or a Re Al fan (which was essentially the same thing, given the losing streak that Re Al had been on for the last month or so), to be into him. But sometimes miracles did happen and baristas were masochists, because the girl was turning to Sae with shimmering eyes and a hopeful expression and it was all going to go so well—

“What are you even doing in Japan in the first place?”

Did he hear her right? Sae is bewildered as well, but Y/N isn’t acting like she’s just asked the most ridiculous question she could’ve possibly asked. What is Sae doing in Japan? Well, he happens to be a citizen of the nation, so there’s one explanation…Aiku wants to facepalm, because now his plans have been ruined and Sae’s confidence has probably been crushed.

“Pardon?” Sae says. Aiku had told him not to act so cranky and old-man-ish when he approaches the girl, but honestly, at this point, there’s no helping him, so he doesn’t even bother with a correction.

“Why are you in Japan?” she says again, all bright and innocent and cheery. It somehow feels like she’s been faking things so far, and that this is the real her, which she’s been holding back up until this point. Aiku isn’t so sure if that’s a good thing; privately, he believes it would’ve been better if she kept holding back just a little bit longer. Long enough for her to reject Sae — who still claims he’s not into her and is just trying to ‘be friendly’, as if friendliness is something he’s well known for — and then move on with her day.

“My passport expired?” Sae says, phrasing it more like a question. “So I had to come back and get it renewed?”

His voice ticks up at the end of every sentence unsurely. It’s almost cute, like he’s a little baby chick. Aiku’s fond of chicks, so he decides he’ll step in. Just this once.

“He’s visiting from Spain to play for the Japanese U-20 team in an upcoming exhibition match,” he explains.

“Oh, wow,” she says. “But I thought you said you would rather give up on soccer or play with German college kids than ever play soccer for Japan?”

Aiku raises an eyebrow. He wasn’t aware of such sentiments, and though he’s not exactly shocked, he can’t help feeling a bit miffed. When he glances over at Sae, there’s not a trace of remorse on his face, and so he wrinkles his nose.

Forget the raise and the baby-chick-esque mannerisms alike. He’s done helping this ungrateful, no-good, lame-as-hell, girl-repelling loser for free. If Sae wants any further assistance, he’ll have to beg for it. 

“How did you know I said that?” Sae says. You clap your hand over your mouth when you realize you’ve exposed yourself.

“I, um, I was just guessing!” you say.

“Guessing?” he repeats. You swear, because that’s actually a worse explanation than the original one, and then you hang your head, because if the cat’s out of the bag, then there’s no way you can put it back in.

“It’s a quote from one of your interviews,” you mumble.

“What?” It’s Aiku, who immediately frowns when he realizes he’s butted in. Sae gives him an odd look out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m a big fan of yours,” you say. “The last game you played in, when you stole the ball from that Bastard München striker, was amazing! To tell you the truth, I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re in the area instead of back in Madrid. It’s a little unbelievable, you see.”

“Ah,” Sae says, and for some reason he looks uncomfortable. “Well. Yeah. It was just the issues with my passport and all. I decided to play for the U-20s because I was offered a good deal, but it’s right back to Madrid for me after that.”

“That makes sense,” you say. It’s awkward again, but in a different way. You don’t know what to say. You don’t think he does either. His drink is probably cold now, and you’re surprised that Aiku’s eyes aren’t stuck in the back of his head, given how frequently he’s been rolling them. “Can I have your autograph?”

“No,” Sae says immediately. You’re a little taken aback, and to be honest, he looks kind of horrified himself, but you know better than to nag, so you only nod at him.

“No worries—” you begin before you’re cut off by a grumbling Aiku.

“He’ll give you his number instead. Here,” Aiku says, listing off a series of digits too rapidly for you to remember. “He’ll write it down, for you, right, Sae?”

And then, to your utter disbelief, Sae Itoshi is pulling out a pen and a piece of paper from who knows where, and he’s humming in agreement.

“Right,” he says, and then he’s handing you a note with his phone number written on it in neat print and his signature in flowing cursive. “You can call me later. If you want. Y/N.”

The way he speaks is stilted and low, but you don’t mind it. Tucking the piece of paper into your apron pocket, you beam at him.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll call you. I still have more things to ask you, so it’s good that you gave me this.”

“Yes,” Sae says. “Yes, you can do that if you’d like.”

Then he and Aiku are leaving the coffee shop, their drinks in hand, and you’re standing there in awe, wondering if that actually just happened or if it was nothing but a particularly vivid flight of fancy. 

If it’s the latter, then you almost hope it’s one you don’t ever escape from. 

“You’re welcome,” Aiku says as they leave the cafe. 

“I didn’t say thank you, you lukewarm oaf,” Sae says. Aiku shrugs. He’s hard to ruffle, after all. It’s the reason why he stepped in and rescued Sae from that little mistake of his. He just couldn’t bear the thought of his dear junior losing the girl of his dreams because of a slip of his tongue, even if aforementioned junior is the insufferable smart-ass type.

Well, the thought of the money he’ll make if Sae speaks of him highly to the JFU doesn’t hurt, either, but that’s less altruistic, so he prefers to stick to the first explanation.

“I bet you feel it, though,” Aiku says.

“Shut up,” Sae says. 

It’s a good thing babies are born every minute. Otherwise, given how frequently Sae says that particular phrase, Aiku really might run out of things to count on. 

You’ve typed the number on the piece of paper into your phone, and now you’re staring at it blankly, wondering if you should press the green call button. What if it was a prank? What if it wasn’t? Because then you’ll have to actually talk to Sae Itoshi, and you’re not so sure you can do that.

In a fit of inspiration, you slam your index finger against your screen and hold your phone up to your ear. It rings a couple of times, each subsequent one worsening the pit in your stomach, but then it stops ringing entirely, which can only mean one thing: Sae, if this really is his number, has answered.

“Hello?” you say.

“Hello?” he responds. “Y/N?”

“Yes!” you say. “It’s me. Y/N. Like you said.”

“Cool,” he says. “It’s Sae. Which I guess you knew, since you called me.”

“The confirmation was nice,” you say, internally sighing in relief. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. It’s mannerly but also a little sarcastic, albeit not in a mean way. You don’t mind it much. “You said you had to ask me some things?”

The two of you spend the next few minutes in a setting kind of like an interview, in that you drill him with questions and he answers them all patiently. He’s kind about it, humoring you even though he doesn’t have to, and he never threatens to hang up, which you do appreciate.

“Would you mind if I ask a question, too?” he says when you’ve taken a break to drink some water.

“Go ahead! Although I’m not as interesting as you are,” you say.

“I think you’re probably way more interesting,” he admits. “Anyways. Are you free next weekend?”

“Uh, I think I have a shift on Saturday, but to be honest, my coworker owes me, so he can cover it. Why?” you say.

“The exhibition game that I’m playing with the U-20s for. You should come watch,” he says.

“Oh! Sure, where should I get tickets? I’d have gotten them already if I knew you were playing,” you say.

“I’m allowed to invite someone,” he says. “Friends or family. So I’m inviting you.”

“Don’t you have actual friends that you can invite?” you say before gasping. “Sorry! Sorry, that was super insensitive and rude of me. Of course I’m honored to come, I’m just confused about why I’m the one you’re inviting. Me. I’ve literally made coffee for you twice, and that’s about it.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he says before pausing. “Um, look, Aiku told me to say this, so if it’s uncomfortable, then blame him…but I think you’re, er, beautiful?”

Your mind short-circuits. “Huh?”

“I don’t know! He’s the one who has experience, I’m just taking his advice!” Sae says, his tone souring immediately afterwards. “Trust me, it’s not like I want to. There’s many things I’d rather do than follow Oliver Aiku’s advice, but at the moment, it’s the best I can do.”

“Beautiful,” you repeat. It’s such an elegant adjective. You’ve been called pretty before, and there’s been a fair share of guys who have considered you to be hot, but beautiful…it’s nice. It’s really nice.

“Yeah,” Sae finally says. “Basically.”

“I’ll be there,” you say. There’s something like a scream bubbling in your throat, but you fight it back, knowing that it’s of the utmost importance that you maintain a relaxed demeanor.

“Great,” Sae says. “See you.”

“See you,” you say, and then you hang up before he can say anything further, because you’re already on the verge of combustion and you don’t think you can handle anything more.

Throwing your phone across the room, you give in and scream. There’s thundering footsteps, and then your father is throwing the door to your bedroom open, whipping his head around wildly.

“Is everything alright? Why are you screaming?” he says, heaving for breath, probably because he just sprinted from his spot on the couch to your bedroom in record time.

“Sae Itoshi!” you say.

“Yes?” he says, the rate of his inhales and exhales lowering as he realizes there’s no active threat to your life or property. “What about him?”

“He told me I’m beautiful and invited me to watch his game next weekend,” you say, knowing that this is going to make your father — a fellow Re Al fan — freak out.

You wait, counting down as he processes the news, unable to contain your exuberant grin, knowing exactly what’s coming. Three, two, one—

“What?”

[whats-amata-you]

Alright y’all hear me out, but I kinda like this interpretation of the Kaiba brothers where they have to deal with the consequences of a very codependent sibling relationship. Not like in the “something happens to Mokuba and Seto has a crisis” kind way, but in the “Mokuba doesn’t know who the hell he is outside the context of being Seto’s little brother” kind of way.

Literally everything Seto ever did from the day Mokuba was born was toward the singular goal of Mokuba’s wellbeing. He sacrificed everything to give Mokuba better opportunities, a more stable home life, a better chance at happiness than Seto ever really had for himself. Seto even gave up huge swaths of who he himself was to work toward that goal. It was all for Mokuba.

But Mokuba was right there with him, the whole time, watching his brother suffer and doing everything in his power to protect him. Mokuba’s whole identity revolves just as much around Seto as Seto’s does around Mokuba.

And that’s fucked up all well and good when Seto’s a teenager and Mokuba hasn’t even hit puberty and only one of them is really taking on any serious adult responsibility. But imagine what that must be like when Mokuba grows up.

Imagine being 20 and as long as you can remember you’ve been worrying about keeping your older brother alive. Maybe he’s in late twenties or early thirties now, and life has finally forced him to either do the work of healing and moving on or else spiraling into self-destruction to the point that not even you can save him anymore. Maybe he’s married off and happy in his own life, or maybe he’s dead or missing and left you behind as his only heir to the family fortune.

And you’re just as completely, utterly lost either way because either way, he doesn’t need you the same way anymore. And on top of that, you realize you don’t really need him the same way anymore.

His routines aren’t yours anymore. His moods don’t set the tone for your whole day anymore. You don’t plan your life around him and his needs anymore.

So. What do you do when you’re suddenly cut loose and left adrift?

I imagine Mokuba floating through life a lot for his twenties, maybe into his thirties. He’s got no sense of direction or purpose without Seto being the center of it all. He realizes he doesn’t have to become a businessman like Seto and help run Kaiba Corporation, but doesn’t know what the hell else he might even want to do. Doesn’t even have a clue. He goes into business anyway because he knows he has to do something, but he doesn’t really enjoy it and it wears on him. He’s popular with women but can’t make a relationship last more than a few weeks; they keep fizzling out because he just doesn’t seem to have any ambition.

It’s super easy for Mokuba to see and acknowledge how Seto was always sort of his dad when they were kids, as well as his brother. Seto actively took up the role and wasn’t shy about saying so outright. But I don’t think either of them realizes quite as easily just how much Mokuba was parentified too, even from a very young age. Seto made Mokuba’s physical health and overall wellbeing his business on purpose, but Mokuba accidentally stumbled into providing a level of emotional support to Seto that no child should ever be responsible for. That kind of relationship would fuck anyone up.

I feel like an interpretation of them Kaiba brothers that had a Mokuba who ended up being rather directionless and having issues with his sense of who the hell he is after Seto’s inevitable Character Development one way or the other is worth exploring. People change over time, and if a fic is set a decade or more post-canon…idk, I just feel like Mokuba’s trauma deserves some serious exploration, too.

[lucozadehulahoop]

Star-crossed. Lo'ak x fem!human!reader

This was originally posted on my side blog @thankeywa. It's a brand new blog and tumblr thinks it's a bot so it's not giving it visibility. Please go give it some love, I want all my avatar!related stuff to be on there.

PART 2 HERE PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE

I know that literally nobody asked for this, but I've noticed a disturbing lack of Lo'ak fics out there, so I've decided to give my input. I've had a story in mind for a while now, and I needed to get it out there. It will be a reader insert to make it more accessible, but it's somewhat based around an original f!character, so I apologize for that in advance if it gets too specific.

WARNINGS: Lo'ak is 20 years old in this and so is the reader, I do not write about minor characters. There will be eventual mature themes in this so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK.

For everyone else, if you like my writing, please let me know if you want to be on the tag list for future installments and SEND ME REQUESTS (head canons, imagines, sfw/nsfw, ecc.) ! I love that shit.

words: around 1.200

summary: reader is a human left behind on pandora, she grew up with the remaining humans who'd been aloud to stay on the planet after the war and has been friends with the Sully clan her entire life. She and Lo'ak were best friends until he began to pull away from her in their teen years for seemingly no reason. This story is about them reconnecting on the day of her twentieth birthday, and dealing with the feelings they have for each other and the obstacles that come with them being from two different worlds.

TW for this chapter: angst, smoking (don't do it, ever), brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of war and death, brief mention of child birth, reader can breathe on pandora.

Y/n looked at the 'birthday cake' made out of cookie rations that Norm and Max had made for her. No matter how many years would pass, her dads always knew how to get creative.

"I'm twenty years old, you guys don't have to keep throwing me a birthday party." She reprimanded them softly, though her heart was filled with joy. Y/n was so thankful to have people in her life who cared enough to make her day special every single year.

"Considering you spent most of your early existence tied to test tubes to stay alive, we're merely celebrating the scientific marvel your continued survival has been." Norm joked, raising a beer, and y/n shoved him, before blowing out the single candle that had been meticulously re-used each year. It was a wonder how there was any wax still left on it.

"What did the birthday girl wish for?" Max asked, reaching for a dried-up cookie and cringing slightly at the taste as he chewed on it slowly. "The whole point of a birthday wish is to keep it to myself... or it won't come true. Honestly, I question your two's knowledge of Earth's traditions." y/n shook her head, before taking a celebratory sip of alcohol.

Norm and Max left eventually, back to the main base. They were more than capable of piloting a helicopter those days, and y/n was all grown up. More than capable of living by herself. What once had been an avatar lab, smack dab in the middle of the forests of Pandora, had been converted into her home. Pandora's rapidly repopulating fauna had surprisingly left her residence alone, well... mostly. There were still some creatures who couldn't help but keep themselves away. And by creatures, she meant Spider. Y/n was also friends with actual people like Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, and... Lo'ak. Truth be told, she didn't know whether or not she and Lo'ak were even friends anymore. They'd been thick as thieves for as long as she could remember, always getting him out of trouble and fixing him up after a scuffle with his siblings. But then, around her sixteenth birthday, he'd started pulling away, and y/n had never understood why. They'd had a big fight about it, bottom line, he hadn't wanted to be around her anymore and y/n had to accept it.

"Open up! It's fucking freezing out here!" Came Spider's loud voice followed by an incessant banging on the door that immediately pulled y/n out of her reverie. "Alright, alright..." she laughed a little as she went to let them all inside. The Sullys were always insisting on spending birthdays together, even though some of them were now getting too big to even fit inside her 'home'. Neteyam had to walk around with his back bent forward, and Kiri knocked over quite a few things before they made it to y/n's main living space, which was more or less Na've-proof. "Happy birthday!" Tuk hugged her and y/n struggled not to feel crushed by the embrace. Even the littlest Sully was now nearly as tall as her.

Y/n let them all inside, already giving them dirty looks at the sight of gifts. "I told you guys not to..."

She stayed on the doorstep a little longer, gazing out into the night, desperately hoping one last uninvited guest would turn up. She felt Neteyam's hand on her shoulder. "He's not coming. I tried to talk to him but he was being a skxawng as usual..." Y/n blushed, not really wanting Neteyam to know she was pining for his younger brother. "Oh, right! I was—just checking you were all here..." she closed the door and they both went back to join the others.

___

"Alright come on, your mom is going to kill me if you get back late and I don't have enough space in here for all of you. Spider would have to sleep outside." Y/n teased, trying to let Tuk understand it was time to go. "Hey!" Spider protested at her lighthearted jab, but knew it was time for them to get going. Nobody wanted to get on Neytiri's bad side. Y/n hugged them all goodbye and thanked them for the presents: Tuk had made her a lovely drawing, and the others had collectively made her a rather beautiful necklace, which she immediately wore. Y/n waited on her doorstep till she could no longer hear the sounds of her friends chatting, and then proceeded to do two incredibly dangerous things: she sat outside of the protection of her bunker, all alone in the cold Pandora night air, and lit up a cigarette.

She'd discovered a terrifyingly endless supply of cigarette cartoons back at the base almost a year prior, and as soon as she'd tried her first one, she'd gotten addicted. Y/n hadn't told Norm or Max, of course, as it would have broken their hearts, especially because of how fragile she was. Y/n's mother had gone into labor in the aftermath of the battle for Pandora between the Na'vi and the Sky people. The soldier had lost her life giving birth, but her baby had survived, taking her first breath in the inhospitable Pandora air. Norm was convinced Eywa herself had kept her alive, had given her the ability to take in the air that hadn't previously failed to kill any other human. Sure, it had come at the price of being particularly fragile her entire life. And how was y/n repaying that gift? By cutting her miraculous existence short more and more each day. Thankfully, it was a while since she'd been used as a test rat, or had check ups of any sort. As far as the Sullys were concerned... they were way better off not even knowing what she was doing to herself.

A sudden rustling in the trees instantly made y/n alert and she didn't waste any time getting back inside. She showered, and shamefully hid her smokes somewhere her dads or the Sullys wouldn't look. When she had nothing else left to do, y/n forced herself to crawl into bed, placing a hand over her necklace. Her wish to see Lo'ak hadn't come true in the end, and while not surprising, it still hurt like hell.

"A pack of viperwolves? Seriously, Lo'ak?" Y/n groaned in frustration as she cleared her table for her best friend to lie on.

"I thought I could take them." He hissed as she doused him with disinfectant. "Yeah, well, you know human medical treatment hurts like a bitch, so it's either my way, or you're going to have to fess up to your parents about what you did." Y/n tried to sound cold, but she'd always been too soft on him.

When they were younger, and Lo'ak still hadn't grown to be double her size, they would often fall asleep together in her bed. "You don't have to keep doing this shit to prove something, you know?" She whispered to him one night, turning over to look at him and gently touch his face. "Your parents love you. And so do Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk and Spider. Lo'ak, I— we— don't want to lose you."

Y/n was almost asleep when a loud 'thud' coming from outside woke her. Something was moving on her roof, or rather, someone... Y/n didn't show whether she was dreaming or not as she looked out the window and locked eyes with Lo'ak, because the second she did, he seemed to slide off the top of her bucker, falling down into the grass below with a loud groan.

He'd probably just woken up half of the animals on Pandora.

[its-time-to-write]

hello! only if you’re comfortable with writing it of course, could i request a fic where the reader has a really bad day at work and jamie comes over with snacks to watch movies and stuff while giving the reader reassurance?🫶

no pressure ofc!!

-xx<3

Plot? We don’t know her. Thanks for requesting! This helped me put of my slump a little

send for me

“Argh!” You slam the door to your flat in frustration and throw your bag on the floor so hard it bounces. It’s been an absolute shit day. Everything that could possibly have gone wrong, went wrong, and somehow it became your responsibility to fix it. It was like one of those dreams where you can never get where you’re going no matter how fast you run. You always seem to end up going backwards.

But now you’re home and you’re free to scream to the void in peace. You trudge to your room and flop facedown on your bed, shoes and clothes still on, resolving not to move until the sun comes up.

You’re there for maybe ten seconds when your stomach grumbles. Shit.

You groan and roll over. You should probably eat something. Hopefully there are good leftovers in the fridge because you are absolutely not cooking. You remember that you just cleaned everything out yesterday and you’re pretty sure that nothing could make this day worse. 

You pull out your phone to order takeout and see you have a missed text from one Jamie Tartt. 

Double shit.

With the way today’s going, it’s probably a breakup text.

(It’s not, you’re just dramatic.)

What it actually says is, Hey love, how was ur day? ;)

You smile ever so slightly, despite yourself.

You reply with a singular: shitty to which Jamie says, be over in 20.

—

You hear the key turn in your door almost exactly twenty minutes later, and you have not moved from the bed. 

That’s actually not true, you moved once to roll back over onto your stomach.

You can hear Jamie moving around in the kitchen before coming into the bedroom.

You hear his footsteps stop at the foot of your bed. 

“Babe,” he says.

You grunt in response.

“Have you been here the whole fucking time?”

“Jamie Tartt,” you say, face still pressed into your pillow, “you better wipe that goddamn smile off your face before I flip over.”

“How’d you even know I was smiling?” he says defensively, and you don’t need to look at him to know that he still is. You roll over to face him.

Jamie makes what he calls his “empathy face.”

“Aw, babe,” he says. “You didn’t even change out of your work clothes?”

You shake your head, making no effort to get up.

Jamie shakes his head back at you and then, without warning, flops on top of you.

“Jamie!” you shriek, “get off!”

You try to shove him off you, but you swear he wills himself to be heavier.

“Nope,” he says, voice muffled due to the fact that his head is in the crook of your neck.

You wiggle a few times, then give up, succumbing to giggles. Jamie pushes himself up a little bit and grins.

“There it is!” he says. “Fucking best part of me day.” He’s getting up just as fast as he laid down. “Let’s get you into some pajamas, yeah?”

You sit up and let Jamie take off your work clothes and maneuver you into an old t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s been over enough times that he knows where everything is. He can’t resist making a comment about your semi-naked body, one that makes you blush and smack him, while he sticks his tongue out at you. The only way to get rid of that cocky look is to kiss it off his face, so you do. You’re kissing him and he’s sliding his hands up your shirt so you move to take it off but he grabs your hands and says, “Oi!”

You still. “What?”

“Took me forever to get you out of bed, I’ll get you back in it but I brought food. It’s in the kitchen and it’s gettin’ cold.”

You squint at him. “Fine. But after that you’re going to fuck me so good that I’m going to completely forget this fucking awful day.”

Jamie gives you a small salute and says, “Yes boss,” before hauling you over his shoulder and into the kitchen.

—

You’re halfway through the pizza he brought when you say, “Should you be eating this?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. What Roy don’t know won’t kill him.”

You laugh and lapse back into silence.

You both have a few more bites when Jamie asks, “D’you want to talk about it?”

You glare at the slice you’re holding. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Jamie waits expectantly.

“It just fucking sucked,” you say frankly. “Everything went wrong. I had to deal with it. I didn’t get anything done that I needed to, and I’m pretty sure that I’m going to get in trouble for it tomorrow. And I hate that shit. None of it was my fault but fucking Matt from HR is going to tell everyone that it was because he fucking hates me.”

Jamie nods. “Fuck Matt from HR,” he says. 

You shrug. “I just want to, I don’t know, reset my fucking heart rate to a normal pace. It’s all batshit crazy because I’m so stressed. And tired. And I’ve sworn more today than I have in my entire fucking life.”

Jamie laughs at that. “Gonna give Roy a run for his money, ey?” he asks.

“I’ve been thinking about letting my eyebrows go,” you say seriously. “Go for the full look.”

“One’s enough, babe.” Jamie shudders. “Hey, when you’re done, we’re gonna watch a movie.”

You open your mouth to protest but he shushes you. “Don’t want to hear it, this is your one opportunity to make me watch a movie of your choice, no complaints.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Fine, some complaints.”

—

You picked Jamie’s season of Lust Conquers All. Hey, he said minimal complaining. Plus, he adds a nice narrative. He has a lot of things to say about it.

The credits are rolling on episode three, and you and Jamie are sitting on your couch. Well, he’s sitting. You’re laying down with your legs across his lap. He wraps an arm around you waist and pulls you onto his lap for a kiss.

“Babe,” he says between kisses, “did you mean what you said earlier? We can just go to sleep if you want.”

You smile. “Take me to bed Tartt.”

Jamie smiles back then stops. “Wait. Did you mean, like, to sleep or..?”

You roll your eyes. “For sex, Jamie.”

Jamie grins again. “Right, yeah, that’s what I thought, just wanted to be sure.”

You stand up and he follows, letting you pull him to the bedroom.

He says, “Lead the way, boss,” and you tell him you’re pretty sure you can work with that. 

It’s a better ending to the day than you thought it was going to be.

[loneamaryllis]

Dark Snarriet recs

By dark, I mean those are all fics with rape/non-con elements. Snape is awful to Harrie in every single one of them.

Shattered

by @loneamaryllis. Rated E. 4,6 k. First Time. Slow Sex. Twist Ending.

An Occlumency lesson gone terribly wrong.

Why I rec it: The first Snarriet fic I wrote! The Occlumency lessons are filled with such tension in canon, so I took one and twisted it until it was all wrong and dirty. Plus there's a little twist at the end.

Making Use

by deviousdeliciousness. Rated E. 8,5k. (Underage) Under-Desk Blowjobs. Dacryphilia. Restraints.

Severus never claimed to be a good man. He wasn't one.

In Harriet Potter's sixth year, he decides to make use of the girl's numerous detentions. He's been in need of a sexual outlet for some time, and this way Potter would finally be useful for something.

Why I rec it: Hot smut and a delightfully sadistic Snape!

Spoils of War

by @loneamaryllis. Rated E. 8,6k. (Underage) Non-linear Narrative. Captivity. Mind Fuck.

The Battle of Hogwarts is over. Harriet defeated Voldemort, but in the shadows, another danger was waiting for her. Snape was never on their side, and now he wants Harriet for himself.

Why I rec it: Another one of mine. You get a captive Harriet kept as a sex slave by Snape. He kidnapped her after the Battle of Hogwarts and is pretending he has no idea where the Savior is... all while she's warming his bed.

A Gentler Kind of Violence

by bitter_sweets. Rated E. 6k. Detention. Humiliation. Drugged Sex.

Harry is assigned detention and Snape teaches her a new kind of violence.

Why I rec it: The alternating POVs is really well done in this fic. Harry's defiance and Snape slowly eroding that very defiance until she's begging...

Forced Entry

by @loneamaryllis. Rated E. 10,4k. (Underage) Spanking. Belly Bulge. Pensieve Sex.

Severus leaves his Pensieve unattended for twenty minutes, and by the time he comes back, he finds Miss Potter head down into his most sensitive memories. Did she really think she could intrude upon his privacy without consequences?

Why I rec it: I wrote this one because I wanted more of Snape fucking Harry/Harriet's body while she's inside a Pensieve. It's very filthy. There's also one piece of art made by SlytherinSneakers illustrating Snape enjoying Harrie!

Illegal Substances

by HermioneGrangerPunchedMeInTheFace. Rated E. 3,9k. (Underage) Detention. Orgasm Denial.

Hope Potter is the spitting image of her mother with all the attitude of her father, which is why no one is surprised when the Chosen One lands detention with Snape yet again. But when a night of tedious tasks is interrupted by an accidental spill of a lust potion, the detention becomes a work out for both Hope and Snape.

Why I rec it: They're both under the influence of a lust potion and Snape has some perverted desires to fulfill... I love how mean he is with Hope in this fic.

Runaway

by @sevsimp77. Rated E. 3k. (WIP) Dark Harrie Potter. Torture.

Harrie Black, a 20 year old, Slytherin, Death Eater only asks one thing of her honored Dark Lord. That she may be in charge of the punishment of his favored Severus Snape.

Why I rec it: This one flips the usual script, and we have a Dark Harrie sexually torturing Snape. It's only one chapter so far but I love the dynamic the author wrote between them! And the cover art is incredible.

[brabblesblog]

Ch 20: Aeterna amantes

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

The Ascendant and his consort celebrate their first year in style.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

Ban bid the last of the guests farewell, sighing in relief.

Finally. That had been the most fun she’d had at one of their parties - not that a lot of them had actually been fun, but still. She’d had fun, and that was wonderful, but she was glad it was over. She headed into the heart of the Palace, towards their bedroom.

Astarion had disappeared sometime near the end of the party, bidding the guests a rather loud and uncharacteristically boisterous farewell; saying he needed to prepare for something important.

She had watched from across the ballroom, rolling her eyes at his antics. He’d been obviously buzzed, which wasn’t uncommon during these events, but that boyish excitement was new and charming. There had been little doubt of what exactly was on his mind, seeing as his eyes had followed her the whole evening.

Ban opened the bedroom door to the sight of Astarion sprawled on their bed; one hand was under his head, pillowing it. The other hand seemed to have just finished unbuttoning his embroidered jacket and shirt - he grasped one side of the garment, as if in the act of peeling it off himself.

That gaze, however, told Ban this was all staged. He’d probably been waiting here since he left the party, anticipating the sound of her footsteps approaching the door.

Actual fucking idiot, Ban thought with fondness and no small amount of exasperation. She’d probably have to have the sheets changed, considering he was on them with clothes that weren’t the cleanest. All the same, she let herself admire the rather fetching view.

“Hello, darling,” Astarion purred, voice thick with arousal. He didn’t have to pretend, having spent the last twenty minutes absently touching himself through his clothes whilst waiting for her.

She couldn’t help it, she laughed as she made her way over to the bed. She sat beside him, patting his clothed thigh patronizingly; pointedly avoiding the bulge right beside it.

“Like what you see?” Astarion drawled. He traced a hand over his exposed torso, running across the peaks and valleys of muscle.

Ban’s eyes followed his hand’s path, unable to resist. The laugh died in her throat.

“I- well, yes, actually,” she managed to say, whatever quip she’d had in mind dissolving at the sight before her.

The smirk on his face widened. I’ve got her, he thought gleefully. His hand continued its path downward, stilling by his waistband.

“You can touch,” he offered, “if you’re a good girl.”

His hand hooked in the top edge, tugging one side down to reveal his hip bone. He looked up just in time to see her lick her lips; it only fueled the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Astarion’s other hand moved from behind his head to palm himself.

“Fuck,” Ban hissed, eyes glued to his hand. He bucked his hips up to press himself against his palm and she nearly moaned. “Fine.”

Satisfied, Astarion abandoned his cock to tug down the other side of his waistband. Slowly, with his eyes fixed on her, he worked at his trousers, shimmying them down together with his underwear.

“More?” he asked, and at her all-too-eager nod, continued.

Ban swallowed as inch by inch of ivory skin was revealed, pearlescent in the light, and couldn’t help the slight watering of her mouth when he finally uncovered his cock. Pale as the rest of him, beautifully veined, delectably pink at the head - he was perfect. He reached in to gently free himself before tugging his trousers the rest of the way down, kicking them off.

She wanted to ask to suck, to feel him fuck her mouth, to swirl her tongue around that pink tip and taste that salty musk that was just him-

The thought derailed as she saw him curl long, delicate fingers around his hard length, gently stroking.

Astarion moaned, a loud, unrestrained sound that was a little too perfect to not be fictitious.

Ban immediately found herself remembering the similar sounds he had made in the earliest days of their relationship; worry flooded her, and the entire scene became significantly less appealing.

“You do know you don’t have to perform, right? You never do. Not with me.”

“I am completely aware,” Astarion replied, his eyes heavy-lidded and sensual. His hand continued to stroke his cock; it grew harder under his touch as his hips began to slowly roll in rhythm with each pass.

“I would like to, though. To… retake it for myself. To write over old memories with better ones. Performing with love, to heighten our mutual pleasure… it doesn’t feel the same. It feels… good.”

Just as he’d wished for tonight to help counterbalance Ban’s bad experiences with him, he wanted the same for himself, with his own unpleasant memories.

His gaze softened. “Come here,” he gestured, releasing his cock and reaching for her.

She acquiesced, shifting closer. Both of his hands slipped under her skirt, his touch warm against her undead skin. She shivered as he caressed her thighs and began slowly inching his way upward, finding the hem of her underwear.

“May I?” Astarion asked, smiling at her nod. He hooked his fingers into the top and gently tugged them down, slipping her underwear off with a practiced grace. He could smell her arousal on them, could feel just how soaked the dainty piece of fabric was.

Ban was a little disappointed that was the only thing he did while there, a small pout forming on her lips.

He laughed when he noticed. “A little more patience, love.” He tossed the strip of fabric aside.

“My, Ban. This wet for little old me?” Gods. He imagined her at the ball just walking around, soaked, thinking of him - wanting him. The thought stroked his ego a lot more than he would have expected it to. He took a deep breath.

“I suppose your whole seduction routine, as silly as it was, sort of worked,” she allowed sheepishly. Godsdamned Astarion, really. She’d never been able to resist his charms.

Astarion laughed. One hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her closer. The other settled on her waist, guiding her to straddle him.

Ban lifted her skirt up and out of their way, settling directly over him, but stayed kneeling, keeping a small distance between them.

The proximity of her warm mound so close to his cock nearly drove all other thoughts from his mind.

“I thought you wanted to lead tonight?” Ban was confused, a byproduct of her relative naiveté when it came to sex. All the previous times Astarion had led, it had been similar things - him on top of her, behind her, or standing above her.

He found her inexperience endearing, but also vexing, considering that she didn’t even need experience to make him this weak for her.

“I am leading.” A soft, reassuring smile crossed his features. “Just not in the way I used to.”

In time, maybe they would try again, going rougher, with more aggression. For now, his goal was simply to prove her trust in him wasn’t misplaced.

Astarion knew this next part would be the hardest for her, but he hoped to make it enjoyable for her as well as himself. He slipped a hand under the pillows above his head, retrieving the dagger. He knew he looked a tad anxious, but powered through the potential awkwardness.

Ban went pale at the sight of twisting silver edges wrapped around a central wooden stake. Rhapsody.

Astarion saw her expression change, and quickly tried to soothe her.

“Ban,” he began, his jaw working as he tried to find the words to express his wishes. His hands gently placed Rhapsody’s hilt in her open palm, wrapping her fingers around the grip.

“I know we spoke of this before, and that you agreed, but… I want to reiterate. I want to retake this, too. It carved my back, all those years ago. It carved… Cazador’s back,” He forced the name out; he refused to let it have any more power over him. “It almost killed me. So please. I merely want to make a memory of this blade that doesn’t hurt to recall. If you don’t…”

The words died in his throat, but she understood. Her fingers tightened on the hilt. She looked down at him. He was so beautiful, positively breathtaking, but now she also saw the vulnerability behind the seduction. He was performing for himself, for both of them - trying to reclaim the pieces of themselves that they’d lost.

She nodded hesitantly. “I’m not going to break skin, though,” Ban murmured, easing somewhat. The dagger felt heavy in her grasp.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did, but we can save that for another day - or never.” He watched the blade glint in the light, swallowing. “Whichever you wish to do.”

Ban lowered herself, her folds finally settling atop his length; a shiver ran down his spine at the feel of her - so wet and warm - pressed against him.

“Now,” Astarion commanded, his tone shifting lower and harsher. “Grind on me.”

Ban registered the change. She obeyed, her hips rolling slowly over his cock. She was rewarded with a hiss; she could feel him begin to thrust as well, seeking more friction.

Astarion’s length felt velvety, hard against her clit, the perfect shape and girth to rub herself against. She slid over him as she sought her own pleasure, her slick spreading all along his cock. It felt good - almost too good, Ban thought, averting her eyes from his face to focus on his chest instead.

Nope. That didn’t help either.

Fucking Astarion, really. Too damned perfect for his own good. Or hers.

With every roll of her hips his cock dragged against her clit, eliciting a shaky moan from her. Astarion could hear for himself how wet she was, the sounds of her sliding against him were deliciously obscene when she ground down harder. The warmth of her made his hips snap up.

He stared greedily up at her, eyes taking in every inch. She was still dressed, but he found he didn’t quite care just yet. He noted the sheer want in her expression and smiled widely, his fangs peeking out.

Ban’s patience failed her, slipping the hand not holding Rhapsody down between them, trying to slip his cock inside her. His hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her before she could succeed.

A small whine of protest escaped Ban’s lips.

“Relax, darling. You’ll have what you want if you behave.” He used her words against her, smirking when she glared.

A little taste of her own medicine. He savored that small glint of anger; it only served to heighten his arousal. She rubbed herself faster on his cock in revenge, and the thought sputtered out of existence. He nearly took back what he’d just said. There was one more thing he wanted before he finally fucked her, however.

Astarion’s hand went back to his embroidered jacket and shirt, opening them further, leaving his chest fully bared.

“Right here,” he whispered, ghosting his fingertips over the dip at the center of his chest, directly over his heart. “The tip, Ban. Right here.”

Ban did as he asked, lowering the dagger with no small amount of hesitation; Rhapsody’s point hovered a few inches above his now-heaving chest.

Astarion growled. “Closer.”

She lowered Rhapsody even more, until the point touched his chest. Astarion could feel his heart pounding against its tip, the sensation sending another thrill down to his cock. The slick down there, the heat of her, was almost overwhelming; Astarion didn’t know how much longer he could endure this without giving in and fucking her senseless.

“So wet for me, Ban,” he murmured, “Such a good girl. Now, press down a little.”

Fingers, trembling ever so slightly, covered Ban’s on the hilt, guiding it. The blade depressed the skin; not enough to break it, but enough that he could feel the slight sting over his racing heart.

His other hand snuck down past her skirt and between her legs to wrap around his cock, stroking it twice. He held it steady for her.

“Go ahead then, love. Take what you want.”

She didn’t hesitate; she’d only been waiting for his permission. Ban shot him a wry grin; gathering up her skirt, shoving it aside.

Astarion temporarily released his grasp on Rhapsody to flap a hand at her, as if to say hurry up, and she made it a point to do everything slower.

Carefully, painstakingly lifting her hips up, Ban looked down along her body to line herself up. She kept herself there, the head of his beautiful cock just brushing her entrance.

Astarion’s hand rejoined hers on the hilt of the dagger. He could feel her warmth radiating against the head of his cock, nearly stealing away any sense of control he had left.

“Ban,” Astarion hissed, “Sit on it or I swear-”

She finally sank down, down into that blessed, wonderful feeling in one rapid move.

There was little resistance; Astarion felt himself sink in to the hilt, fully buried inside her. The sudden warmth and tightness around his cock brought a wild surge of pleasure, unraveling Astarion’s brain; his hand on Rhapsody jerked, cutting into his own chest.

It was a shallow wound, but it bled all the same. Ban didn’t notice at first, lost in the sensation of being spread open and filled. Astarion, impaling her with that beautiful, perfect cock; laid out before her like an offering to be devoured. Gone was her previous bashfulness - all that was left was wanton desire.

Then the smell hit her nose, the sharp, all-too-familiar coppery scent of blood mixed with the sweet notes that told her it was his, and her eyes snapped to him, a mixture of hunger and concern in her gaze.

Astarion smiled. “It’s okay.”

He gently took the dagger from her grasp, knowing that had been too much - too close to what had happened when he’d been injured. He flicked his wrist, tossing the Rhapsody off the side of the bed. He didn’t care where it landed. His hands settled on Ban’s waist, squeezing gently.

“Would be a waste of blood if we don’t at least use it, don’t you think? Lick.” He watched her reaction even as the words left his mouth. Any sign of discomfort from her, any hint of her retreating into herself, and he knew to end this little game. His hips began to roll, fucking her gently, a pleasurable rocking motion that he hoped would help in easing her.

But there was no distress. Ban’s mind was filled with nothing but him - his length moving inside her, his hands holding her, his blood pooling on his chest. And most of all, his eyes, which told her everything she needed to know. They seemed to whisper I love you. You can trust me. You’re okay.

He smiled, enjoying that his beauty so easily distracted her. “Ban. Lick.”

She leaned forward in response to his command and began to lick the blood from his chest. The taste of it, of him, sent a shiver of pleasure through her, causing her to clench around him.

He groaned, relishing the sensation of her squeezing him. He increased the pace of his thrusts, ensuring each roll of his hips dragged against her walls and hit her spot.

“Gods, Ban. You’re perfect,” he whispered, voice soft, the act all but forgotten.

She hummed in delight at his praise, pausing mid-lick to look at him, tongue still pressed against his skin, fangs glinting in the light. She smiled, a gesture that told him she was fine, that she was genuinely enjoying this.

The happiness and trust in her eyes made Astarion’s heart swell. He lifted his head to see her better.

“Take your clothes off. I want to see everything.”

Ban licked off the last of his blood and sat up. She felt for the hem of her dress, tugging it up with both hands. As she pulled the dress over her head she rocked her hips gently, grinding to match his pace.

She revealed her skin inch by inch, pale from undeath, though not as much as his. Muscles rippled as she undressed herself. She lifted the dress off and let it fall onto the bed, riding him without any pause or change in her rhythm.

His eyes raked over the lines of muscle as they flexed with every move, over the scars and moles and every single imperfection on her skin. Over her breasts, which were small and tight and just her, and all the more beautiful because of it.

She was the most magnificent thing he’d ever behold, he mused.

Astarion reluctantly forced his hips to still. It took more effort than he’d like to admit, the urge to blindly rut into her was far stronger than anticipated. Still, he wanted to make her work for it a little, to keep his little game going.

“That’s it, pleasure yourself on my cock, darling,” he cooed, eyes greedily taking in every inch of her, as if she might disappear on the morrow and he wanted to commit her to memory. He slid a hand up to cup her breast. She whined at the sensation and he squeezed - not too hard, but enough to bring forth a tantalizing mix of pleasure and pain.

Astarion’s other hand drifted lower, running down her belly and moving between her legs. He felt for her clit and began rubbing. Gently at first - a light flick - a move that was instantly rewarded when she tightened around him and rolled her hips particularly hard. Satisfied, he rubbed more insistently; the feedback to his touch was near instantaneous, her soft whimpers of pleasure urged him on.

That, and the wonderful way Ban clenched around his cock.

Slowly, inevitably, his desire to perform slipped away. What was the point? They were already in the thick of it; she was moaning out her need for him, her walls caressing him with every move, their desire mixing together in a way they had only ever done for each other. He was done playing.

“Love me?” Astarion murmured, a little unsure. He was glad that it no longer needed to be a command, no longer something he had to coerce from her. He merely had to ask, and it was his. Still, the slight uncertainty crept into his voice; he’d asked for this so many times and heard it back in just as many ways, but so many of those had been during moments of darkness - of anger, of desperation.

Then there had been Ban’s feelings - resignation, submission, apathy. It had torn at his heart, made him hate himself, stained everything like blood spreading through cloth. He longed, hoped, for tonight to be a step towards reclaiming this as well, towards cleaning the stains from the fabric of their relationship.

“Of course,” she said, panting a little. Ironic, Ban thought, that this was what he always asked for, because it was the one thing she always felt. Looking down at her husband, she watched his face - openmouthed and adoring - as she slowly rode the thoughts out of his mind. Seeing his hesitance as he asked for something so simple as her love had almost made her want to stop and just cuddle him.

Almost. His cock felt too good to stop.

“I love you. Always have. Forevermore will.” Words she had said in similar situations, but at times hadn’t wanted to utter, or hadn’t felt in those moments. As she said them now, she heard his breath catch; the hand lazily playing with her nipple went still. She could even feel his cock throb inside her at the same moment.

“Astarion?” She looked down at him with affection and slight amusement. It took a moment for him to lock eyes with her, his own gaze hazy with lust, his mind still basking in her words.

“I love you,” she repeated, smiling down at him.

Those words, repeated, were music to his ears; a low whimper left his lips. He was still fighting to keep his hips still, to let her keep riding him, but he was rapidly losing. His hips stuttered here and there, unable to deny the urge.

His thoughts were scattered between the feel of her enveloping him and the overwhelming devotion that was washing through him. Never again, he thought. I would rather die than lose this again.

Ban’s hips increased their pace. Seeing Astarion so obviously coming apart from just her words never ceased to excite her. It was always her he needed; even at their lowest, that had never changed. Being so wanted, so needed, brought a heady sort of satisfaction to her.

Astarion’s neck was beginning to hurt from the effort of holding his head up, but he didn't care. He needed to see her, needed to see the one person who had ever mattered to him, the only one he could ever enjoy this sort of touch from, her and only her alone-

The way she lifted and slid back down around him grew more intense; he could feel his own desire pressing against him more insistently, the beginning tendrils of that electric need to empty himself in her beginning to unspool from his cock out through the rest of his body. He fought himself for a few moments more, wanting to tease her for just a little bit longer, but the words slipped from his mouth unbidden.

“Do you want to come, love?” He wouldn’t ask her to beg; it was something he felt was too close to his old ways, and he refused to remind her of that right now.

“Yes, please,” Ban replied quickly, still frantically riding him. She wanted, needed more, more than his hand playing with a breast and fingers rubbing her clit. She wanted him to fuck her, but gods was he being obstinate.

He let go of her breast, slipping his hand to the small of her back while the other continued toying with her clit. He gently pushed her down, guiding her to lay on his chest.

“Let me do this for you,” Astarion whispered when her cheek made contact with his chest, kissing the top of her head. “Just listen to my heart and allow me to pleasure you.”

Let me do what I should have been doing long ago. Put her first - her needs, her wants. Give her the love she deserved. When he’d first ascended he had tried to fuck her broken pieces back together, throwing every single trick he knew at the problem, but he’d since realized that he’d been doing it the wrong way around.

He only ever really needed to be himself to make her happy; a truth he had once known and lost sight of. He offered it every day now, regularly bared his heart and soul to put her pieces back together. But even then it was no guarantee. It could still be too late.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

He held her tightly to him in a one-armed embrace. Placing his feet flat on the bed, Astarion began to snap his hips up into her, hard and fast. She moaned; he could feel his blood rush, his pulse racing from the effort.

“For you,” he murmured, hand and hips working diligently. “Only you.”

Astarion’s hips and fingers worked in concert, stroking her just the way she liked, hips angling so that every stroke caressed that secret spot inside her that only he knew. He closed his eyes, focusing on feeling her reactions, listening to her breaths, eager to bring her to paradise.

The blood-red sheets were silk satin, gorgeous but oh-so-slippery. He fought to keep his feet firmly planted where he placed them. The tension in his legs made him grunt and they slowly began to tire from the effort required to keep himself ideally positioned for her. A slight burn set in, but he didn't relent.

“Astarion-” she gasped. She was still trying to grind down onto him, but her movements were weak and irregular, her body completely taken over by his ministrations. She didn’t even know what she wanted to tell him - that she loved him? To go harder, slower - a different angle?

To tell him how good it felt, to have him inside her, filling her and stretching her with every stroke? How intimate it was to hear his heart roar for her, only her? How amazing it was, that he knew exactly how and where and when to touch her? All this, she thought, and more. So much more.

“I- I know. I love you,” he whispered to her, gliding his hand across her skin from her clit, over her hip, to her ass. He gripped tightly as he slammed her down onto his cock hard, in rhythm with his thrusts. He continued pistoning upward, his own desire threatening to overwhelm him. He held back, biting his lower lip. Not yet.

He stilled, hoping to regain some composure, to last longer. Ban whined, rolling her hips insistently. It almost shut his brain down and he growled, the hand on her ass squeezing hard in warning.

“Wait.” He took a breath, needed a moment to focus on something else - anything other than her and the overwhelming need to come. He could feel his cock twitching, begging for the friction to resume. Ban stopped moving, thankfully; he opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. He quickly stretched his legs before repositioning his feet. He began to thrust up again, hammering into her relentlessly.

The sensation of his cock stretching and fucking her mercilessly, the head dragging against her walls, slamming into her spot again and again, in combination with the sound of his heartbeat thundering in her ears, sent her over the edge.

Ban finally came with a loud cry, fisting her hands into the sheets. He felt her walls flutter around him, the familiar squeezing and clenching very nearly finishing him off as well.

He held her close as she rode out the waves of her ecstasy, peppering small kisses to the top of her head and rubbing her back with fingers that trembled.

When she finally quieted, she lifted her head from his chest. She was met by soft, affectionate eyes. “Did you…?”

Astarion shook his head. “Not yet.” He was still buried in her, cock twitching, legs tense.

Ban frowned, confused. “You seemed close. Why didn’t you come?”

He smiled softly. “I wanted you to finish first.” He brought a hand up to tilt her chin, pressing his lips against hers. The kiss wasn’t insistent, but it still intensified his need.

Astarion flipped them over mid-kiss, pinning her underneath him. He rested on his elbows, looking down at her. His curls were a mess, hanging over his eyes.

Should’ve started with this position, he thought.

She giggled a little, amused by the sudden change. He could feel her smile against his lips. Breaking the kiss, he shifted down to mouth at her neck. He pushed her leg up with his right knee, spreading her legs further apart, allowing himself to sink deeper into her.

Astarion parted his lips, pressing his fangs against her skin - a gentle touch, waiting. She didn’t protest.

“Ban,” he murmured, “May I?”

She laughed. “Thought you were leading?” She bucked her hips playfully and he was immediately on edge again. He growled against her neck.

“I was,” he replied, then sighed, the fight leaving him. “Obviously, I lost the thread a little.”

“No, not really. You’re just having too much fun, Astarion, that’s all.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Hard not to, with you.”

Repositioning his mouth against her pulse, he tried again. “So, Ban, again, since you were too distracted to give a proper response the first time I asked. May I?” That, he thought, should work better. A little more edge to it, although definitely nowhere close to what he’d envisioned for tonight.

Not that he minded.

“Yes, you fool.” She ruffled his hair, and he sighed in exasperation, finally sinking his fangs into her neck.

He moaned as her blood gushed into his mouth - the flavor he cherished above all others, and always would, regardless of anything else he would taste for the rest of his life. He gripped her thighs, holding them in place. His hips resumed their movement as he fed, driving himself into her hard and fast and deep, the taste of her blood fuelling his arousal. Her on his tongue, all around his cock, in his arms. Her love for him. Today and tomorrow and forevermore-

Astarion came with a low growl, eyes squeezing shut, hips losing their rhythm and stuttering as he finally spilled inside his wife. He rode out the waves of his orgasm, smearing a little of Ban’s blood by accident as his mind went blank and his fingers dug into her skin.

When he finally came back to himself, he realized Ban was whispering to him, her hands stroking his hair.

“I love you,” she repeated, her fingers trailing through his sweat-soaked curls.

He licked off the spilled blood, going boneless on top of her, exhausted. He smiled into the crook of her neck, happy. Hers.

“Did you enjoy that, love?” Astarion asked later as they sat together in the tub, bathing and basking in post-coital bliss. His back was facing her chest as she washed his hair.

He should be enjoying himself, but he couldn’t stop the wisps of doubt from wriggling into his mind.

What if I scared her? Didn’t do well? Reminded her of things she’d rather forget?

“I did,” Ban said, massaging the shampoo into his hair. “It’s been a while since we did it that way, and, well…”

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow. “Well what? Did it feel good? Was I… Did I…”

“Do well?” She leaned forward to hug him. “You did wonderfully.”

“Of course I did.” He puffed up his chest, outwardly smug, attempting to hide the nervousness behind the bluster. “I know your body even better than my own.”

True, of course. But that hadn’t always been enough. He hadn’t always used that knowledge solely for her pleasure.

“And you, Astarion? Was it good for you?” Ban asked, resuming caring for his hair.

“Better than good.” He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “You gave me your trust again. That’s… that’s all I wanted, really.”

“But the sex was decent too, of course,” he added quickly, effortlessly dodging her hand as she playfully attempted to smack him.

“Ever think we’d end up this way?” Ban’s voice was quiet, looking at him as they rested together in the darkness.

Astarion considered the question.

“Had I not done what I did? Yes. But I did do it. Therefore… no.” He reached for her, and they turned onto their sides, curling up together with her back to his chest.

“We became bitter and twisted, and falling into that was terribly easy to do.”

She considered his words. “Fair. And getting here was-”

“Exceedingly difficult, yes,” Astarion finished for her. “There’s still more work to do, you know.”

Ban nodded. “I know.” She felt a small pang of guilt for not being quite there yet.

“Don’t,” he said sharply, “I know what you’re thinking - so don’t.”

She didn’t answer, and that familiar dull ache began in his chest. He sighed.

“For what it’s worth, Ban, you’re worth the work too,” Astarion offered, “And no matter what happens now, I’m just glad it’s with you.”

She twisted in his arms to face him, pressing their lips together in a gentle, affectionate kiss.

They fell asleep tangled in one another’s arms.

There was still a long way to go - relearning each other, rebuilding what they’d once had, forging a new path forward. There were old wounds that still needed healing, wounds that needed a careful hand to avoid reopening. And there would always be fresh trials and new challenges to overcome.

But if they stumbled, if they fell, they would always have one another to hold onto.

Finally, the future felt bright.

Astarion rested peacefully throughout the night. Here in the heart of his palace, in the center of his power and earthly possessions, he held the only thing that truly mattered. Her.

When dawn arrived, Ban opened her eyes. A shaft of sunlight peeked through the gap between vermillion curtains, shining on her face. Her hand moved, reaching for the space beside her before she stopped herself. There was no need to check. There never would be.

An arm reached back, wrapping around her waist.

He was here. And he always would be. Eternally.

As would she.

[eddieswh0r]

Hiii!

I was wanting to request a fic where eddie and femreader! are best friends and roommates, eddie is in love with her but is too afraid to tell her in case it ruins things and she doesn't feel the same. so he naturally is quite jealous when he sees her with other guys, but what he doesnt know is reader feels the same way about him. one day eddie was meant to be at band practice all day but it finished early as gareth got sick, so eddie comes home and he walks by readers room and all he hears his her making sll sorts of moans and groans, and the door is open just a little so he can see her touching herself but she also is moaning his name. maybe he walks in or she sees him either way it could end up with some sex and a confession maybe?

let's get back into it with a smutty slow burner? 😉

'Best Friends Lend a Hand'

"Y/n, c'mon. Really? He's stood outside like he's taking you to fuckin' prom" peeking through the blinds that were being held open with a thumb and index finger, just enough to see down onto the street below, Eddie stifled his laughter "Look at him, he's got a fucking flower on his blazer. Wait.. Wait.. There's not even a button hole. It's just pinned on man.. No, stop it. Wait. Is that fucking sticky tape?" The curly haired metal head threw himself back down onto the sofa, holding his stomach as he erupted into fits of roaring laughter.

"You really need to stop calling it sticky tape Eddie, you're 24 and let me guess, you'd turn up on a date in a raggedy pair of jeans and your battle vest?" with a peek through the blinds yourself, your eyes widened. A short man who looked a little older than 25 like you'd been previously told and yes, as plain as day there was a wilted flower stuck to his blazer with the so-called 'sticky tape' attaching it.

"I'm so gonna get Harrington back for this." grabbing your bag off the arm of the sofa you pointed an outstretched finger at Eddie with narrowed eyes "You too!! you're both gonna pay so fuckin' bad for this!" with a slam of the door behind you, you lingered on the stairwell for a moment then sloped off to meet the blind date. The fucking horrible idea Harrington had concocted because he just wanted you to shut the fuck up about the lack of touch you so badly wanted. The few previous dates you'd been on were ok, nothing to write home about, there was no spark, they weren't thrilling, they weren't Eddie.

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"Yeah man, she left about twenty minutes ago - ish and she did NOT look happy" passing Steve a beer Eddie leant his hip on the kitchen counter "..We're gonna pay for this, she insisted on it actually. 'You're gonna pay so fuckin' bad'" mimicking your voice in a high pitched tone he laughed taking a big gulp from the cold bottle.

"You can fuck right off Munson if you think she's getting me back for this as well. I was doing alright, firing out the best people i knew for these dates. You.. You picked this one, who the fuck is this man?"

"Michael, you remember him right? few years older than us, his brother Tommy was in Robins science classes"

"MICHAEL? MICHAEL COOPER? Eddie he's at least 30 now. A few years older? Jesus CHRIST. She's gonna go mental. How did you even ask him?

"Saw him in the 7-Eleven parking lot"

Eddie knew what he was doing though, he wasn't just being a prick to his roommate, his best friend of 20 years for no reason. Seeing Steve organize all these dates for you and watching you go off with the jock looking buff boys made Eddies insides twist. 20 years is a hell of a long time to be crushing hard on someone right? But from the age of 4, you and Eddie had been completely inseparable. Kindergarten, first school, middle, high, college, work, roommates, the full lot, together. So let's be honest a crush for 20 years? No. That boy was completely in love with you but he'd never tell you. No way. But you wouldn't tell him either, he'd never know you felt the same, fuck he could never know. Ever.

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"I swear Eddie that date was traumatizing, you and Steve are in for it, just you wait. I don't mind an older man but 30 and already balding? You're both assholes for that" placing your cereal bowl in the sink you frowned crossing your arms, the previous events from last night whirling around in your head making you cringe. Pulling on his trainers Eddie hid the smirk that spread across his face as you told him all about the disastrous date.

"So lemme get this right, the sticky tape fell off and the flower fell riiiight into his soup?"

"Eddie i was so embarrassed, he was speaking so loud and people were staring and.. and then.. he fucking ate the flower swimming round in his soup, i wanted to die" slumping down into the sofa you looked over toward Eddie who was now chuckling to himself. God, if only the man who was stood in front of you would take you on a date.

"Wait.. Where you going anyway? I thought we had a movie marathon planned?" he better not be blowing you off for a date you thought, he did that once before and it didn't end well. You didn't speak to him for days and he did a bit too much groveling after that.

"Corroded Coffin rehearsal sweetheart, fuck. I thought i told you?" Grabbing his keys off the side, he looked at you with his big ol' puppy dog eyes "I'll make it up to you, i promise.. i gotta go"

"Asshole"

Eddie swung the door open and glanced back to you "Laters princess" flashing his teeth with a grin and finishing with a wink.

Fuuuck. If only he knew what those simple words did to you. That knot in your stomach tightened.

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Hey, Doc! we better back up.

We don't have enough roads to get up to 88.

Roads?

Where we're going we don't need no roads.

"I will never get tired of that film" pressing the off button on the remote you sighed happily. You'd taken yourself to bed and curled up in your covers to watch yours and Eddies favorite film, even though he'd ditched you for band practice. The smell of his cologne wafted up to your nostrils from his band tee you wore. It's not like it was unusual for you to wear one of his t-shirts, in fact, it was more unusual for you not to be wearing one.

Boredom took over. The apartment was relatively clean, the laundry was done and you'd already picked at snacks throughout the film.

16:27 flashed on your alarm clock, Eddie had been gone for hours and he'd probably be gone a few more. Resting your hand on your stomach you tore your stare away from your ceiling toward your nightstand. A photo of you and Eddie from 2 years prior. Nancy had suggested a walk which sounded like a good idea at the time but it was a cold autumn morning and Steve did absolutely nothing but complain about the temperature the whole time. Nancy had bought her camera with her and caught the exact moment Eddie threw a big pile of golden orange and yellow leaves at you, he had his head thrown back laughing while the leaves fell around you. So as grumpy as you looked it was developed and placed in a frame for your 22nd birthday.

God, you were so in love with him. His hair, eyes, smile, neck, the dip in his chest, down towards his toned stomach which had his little trail leading towards.. towards..

"Mmm, fuck." your hand had found itself tucked inside your thin cotton panties, your finger drawing circles around what was now a wet pulsing bud of nerves as you thought about your best friend, the best friend you were absolutely madly in love with.

Closing your eyes and tilting your head back you slipped a second finger and applied more pressure wishing it was Eddie that was taking care of you, making you feel good.

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

Placing his keys on the small table next to the door Eddie scanned his eyes around the living room searching for you but nothing, he thought that you'd probably gone out to meet Nancy. He'd come back much earlier than expected, Gareth wasn't feeling great so they decided to call it a day.

"Oh Eddie."

His gaze quickly turned towards your bedroom door, faint squeaks and mewls coming from inside. Eddie gingerly made his way closer to the door, the faint orange hum of light from the bedside lamp shining through the slight crack of where it was left open.

"Feels so good, Eddie"

Hearing his name a second time he peeped one eye through the ajar door, eyes widening at what he could see in front of him. Sprawled on your bed with the covers no longer on you and Eddies tee bunched up just above your chest, one hand in your panties and the other caressing your breast with your hard, sensitive nipple rolling between your finger and thumb, your back arching every time you went a little faster. Eddie automatically palmed his now painfully hard erection through his jeans. Should he be doing this? This is wrong, that's my best friend he thought to himself but another moan of his name from your lips stopped that thought abruptly. He watched you gather your own slick on your index and middle finger letting your legs fall to the side and giving him a very clear view of what he wanted needed so bad, slowly sliding your fingers into your aching cunt a moan dragged from your throat which made Eddies breath hitch and palm his erection faster.

Eddie couldn't take it any longer, watching you take care of yourself like this, he needed to help. He needed to take care of you himself.

"Need a hand sweetheart?" gently pushing your bedroom door open his eyes darkened with want as he took a slow pace towards the end of your bed. You stopped what you were doing, you weren't nervous or even embarrassed. Looking up at him with big doe eyes you gave a simple nod and that was more than enough for him. Eddie walked round to the side of your bed while unfastening his belt, letting his jeans fall down to his ankles, followed by his boxers. Your eyes widened as his hard dick slapped against his stomach on release. Holy fuck he was gifted.

"I'm gonna take care of you now, 'kay? Just relax baby. M'gonna make you feel so good" Eddie climbed on top of you, pushing your legs apart with his knees. Nuzzling his way into your neck his teeth nipped at your skin, grazing down to your collarbone. You watched his every move not wanting to miss his perfect fucking face making its way over your torso.

"You miss me princess?" his voice muffled as his mouth enveloped around your nipple, the connection rapidly sending your hands to his mass of curly hair with a soft moan flowing from your lips, Eddie pinched your nipple between his teeth as he dragged a hand across your thigh, gripping the inside. Letting your nipple go from his mouth with a pop he gave you the biggest shit-eating grin you've ever seen.

"I’ll take that as a yes?" Taking his bottom lip between his teeth he edged down toward the end of the bed, hooking his arms under your knees, pulling you towards him.

“Eddie, wait!!” You called, Eddie let go of your legs in a panic, you watched his face drop as you knew every kind of thought would be running through his head.

“I don’t think it’s fair Eddie” you pouted your lips, dropping your head ever so slightly

“W-we can stop? If that’s what you want princess? We don’t have to do this, I don’t wanna ruin our friendship”

“Well.. I just kinda mean.. like.. you still have your top on” it was your turn to wear the shit-eating grin now and watch the relief wash over Eddies face. In a flash he removed his top and flung it over to the side. His toned body in all its glory, right there in front of you, begging to be touched, every single part of it, you wanted to cover with your lips.

“Is that what you wanted, Sweetheart? Is that better now?” A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped and Eddie leaned forward and pushed his lips on yours, snapping you from your stare. Slow, wet kisses at first switched on what felt like lightening dancing in your stomach which quickly turned to messy, open-mouthed kisses, tongues circling in unison, trying to find each other at every opportunity. Eddie pulled away breathless, leaving nothing but a string of saliva between you. Sitting up he resumed his position and hooked his arms under your legs pulling you closer. You bit your bottom lip in arousal and anticipation as Eddie looked down at you giving you a quick nod and the most beautiful smile, you nod back confirming the go ahead and be didn’t hesitate.

“Just relax sweetheart, if you wanna stop.. tell me.. ‘Kay?” He slowly pressed against your soaking wet opening with the tip of his dick, rubbing up and down gathering your wetness on his end.

“Oh f-fuck, you’re fuckin’..” cutting himself off from his own sentence he slipped inside of you, feeling your gummy walls clench around his length almost immediately. Your head threw back and a moan of his name left your lips pronto.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie” gripping the sheets and throwing your head back at the bliss. Eddie pushed in to the hilt and picked up a pace rather quickly which earned groans from his direction.

“Sweetheart, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted this”

“Eddie, shut up and fuck me” you giggled breathless. Deep and hard, faster and faster. The fire in your stomach was unbearable and the taste of sweet release was moments away.

“Eddie. I- I’m gonna..”

“Cum for me, there’s a good girl.” Those words tipped you over the fuckin edge, as you clenched your walls around him waves of euphoria washed over you, knuckles turning white from the sheets in your grasp, your mouth hung open but no sound was audible. Your body shook as your reached your ultimate high.

“There it is, fuck. Such a good girl for me” Eddie praised as he reached his own high, burying his warm seed deep inside you. Your name and curses rolling off his tongue.

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What felt like hours passed and somehow the covers had found their way onto you both, Eddies arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest while it gently rose and fell with every breath. You didn’t know what was to happen next only that you both didn’t want this to end, you and Eddie had waited for this moment and no one was going to take it away. Your eyes slowly closed as tiredness took over as it did for Eddie.

“I love you, Sweetheart”

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Oh please I’ve been fucking working on this for months and the last few paras are SO fuckin rushed because it was just sitting in my drafts.

Love you all😩🥰

[ceilidho]

Twenty questions for fic writers

thanks @kneelingshadowsalome !!!! @ohbo-ohno @charliemwrites if u guys wanna do this go ahead. or anyone else that feels like it

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

47 LMAO

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

a staggering 583,382

3. What fandoms do you write for?

call of duty basically exclusively now, but i used to also write for star wars, shadow & bone, spiderverse, rings of power, and the last of us (may write more for tlou in the future)

4. Top five by kudos.

dead ringer, take me home country road, red dawn, ghost prompts, and landscape with honey.

5. Do you respond to comments?

god i used to all the time ages ago, but now i don't. i truly just get so overwhelmed and it exhausts me. i will respond to the odd comment now and again though, and i read them all obsessively.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

"the terrible nature of ghosts" for sure

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i guess "landscape with honey" ended on a sweet note. or "birdsongs". i like writing fics that have endings that feel neither happy nor sad; i'd like to think that most of my fics end on a note that make you feel mildly uneasy but overall good.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have blocked an UNTOLD amount of people, so not anymore. but every now and then i'll get the stray "you're evil and the shit you write is fucked up" comment. people tend not to do that when you moderate comments though.

9. Do you write smut?

well now, that's my bread and butter

10. Craziest crossover.

i'm with salome on this one - i'm a purist. not interested in crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

ages ago when i was younger sure. not since then thankfully.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

maybe?? i know some people have asked and i've given them permission but then they've never come back to tell me whether they did it or not.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes!!! i wrote "dead ringer" with a friend and it's my most popular fic lmao. i love love love co-writing with people, but i rarely do it because your style kind of has to match the other person's in order for it to work.

14. All time favorite ship?

god reylo was really it for me for the longest time. i'm not sure any non x reader thing will ever top that. i do LOVE abby/ellie from the last of us, but there's hardly anything for them.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

any reylo incomplete fic, im so sorry. it's just not gonna happen.

16. What are your writing strengths?

detailed descriptions. introspection and character analysis.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

DIALOGUE. i don't know how the fuck people talk sometimes. also longer plots. and i'm not amazing with visualizing how houses and places look for some reason so i really need to get better at that (i'll be honest, i still don't FULLY know what the town in "country roads" looks like so i try to describe it very vaguely).

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i really only enjoy it when it's used effectively - when the audience is supposed to be aligned with the main character in not understanding what's being said.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

teen wolf!

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

"saltwater" my beloved. or "auribus teneo lupum" from my reylo days.

[jittyjames]

full whumptober masterlist is finished! ehehe it's so great i actually have time to work on these this year! anyway, if anyone wants to know more about any of the specific fics or maybe even a snippet, feel free to drop an ask!

Day 1: Search Party + Panic Attack — Jesus Christ Superstar — When Jesus disappears without a word to the disciples, Judas and Mary take it upon themselves to go looking for him as days turn to weeks. 

Day 2: Role Reversal + Used As Bait (Alt. Prompt)— Twenty One Pilots · Trenchler — The Torchbearer is taken by DEMA as a way to lure Clancy back to them.

Day 3: Wrongfully Arrested — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Mary/Judas — Jesus rushes to save Judas from being punished in a way he doesn't deserve.

Day 4: Hallucinations + Motion Sickness (Alt. Prompt) — Hamilton — Alexander and Washington find themselves in the clutches of a cruel soldier. His experiments leave the two in quite a predicament.

Day 5: Heatstroke — Hamilton — The heat of battle is only made worse by the oppressive summer sun. Aaron Burr finds himself faltering. 

Day 6: Not Realizing They're Injured — Jesus Christ Superstar— After a violent riot breaks out, not everyone is as unscathed as it seems.

Day 7: "It's Us Or Them." — 9-1-1 — Buck ends up in the hospital after making a choice.

Day 8: Sleep Deprivation — Hamilton · Hamburr — As Alexander and Aaron push through a high-stakes murder case that bring up bad memories for the both of them, the lack of sleep causes something else to brew between them.

Day 9: Obsession — Hamilton · Hamburr · Modern — Aaron runs into trouble when a mysterious man takes an interest in him. 

Day 10: Blow To The Head + Slurred Words + “I Can’t Think Straight.” — Mindhunter — In a questioning gone wrong, Holden is left reeling. Quite literally.

Day 11: Seeing Double + Loneliness — Hamilton — For just a moment, Alexander thinks he's looking at someone who can't possibly be there.

Day 12: Starvation + “Just A Little More.” — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Judas — Judas takes issue with having when others have not.

Day 13: Team As family + Multiple Whumpees + Vermin (Alt. Prompt) — Hamilton — The British didn't see them as people anymore. They saw them as something far different.

Day 14: Blackmail— Hamilton — When Alexander's secrets are being held by his political enemies, he will do everything he can to ensure they never get out. [Continuation of Keep Me (And My Secrets)]

Day 15: Childhood Trauma — Jesus Christ Superstar (Arena) · Jesus/Judas — Mary reflects on her life as she watches Judas’ fall apart. 

Day 16: "No, I Can't Feel Anything." — Twenty One Pilots · Trenchler — After the final battle, Clancy stumbles.

Day 17: Nowhere Else To Go + Beatdown (Alt. Prompt) — Hamilton — Thomas Jefferson finds a bleeding Hamilton on his doorstep.

Day 18: Revenge + Loss Of Identity + Unreliable Narrator — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Judas — Judas finds Jesus with blood on his hands.

Day 19: Abandoned Cabin + Blood Trail — Mindhunter — Holden is taken by an unsub.

Day 20: Emotional Angst + Giving Permission To Die — Hamilton · Hamliza — Eliza and Alex have one last conversation.

Day 21: Spirit Possession + Body Horror — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Mary/Judas — Jesus had cast out demons from many people over the course of his ministry. But it’s just different when it’s someone he loves. 

Day 22: Reopening Wounds — Mindhunter — The aftermath of all the events with that principal leave Holden burning with a need for justice, no matter how obsessive it seems.

Day 23: Forced Choice + Public Display — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Judas —  Amuse Me (Fuck or Die Fic)

Day 24: “I Never Knew Daylight Could Be So Violent.” — Hamilton — How can the sun still rise when so much horror has come to pass? How can the world still spin?

Day 25: Being Monitored + "It's For Your Own Good."— Jesus Christ Superstar · Modern — Judas meets Jesus in the most unlikely of places.

Day 26: Nightmares + Breakfast Table — Hamilton · Modern — Aaron's daughter is always hanging around that Hamilton kid. He doesn't mind it as much as he pretends to— Philip is a sweet boy, after all, and it gives Aaron the excuse he needs to see his former friend despite bridges being burned to a crisp. But when Aaron get's a phone call one stormy night, everything changes.

Day 27: Voiceless + Communication Barrier ( Alt. Prompt) — Jesus Christ Superstar — Judas had only wanted them to warn Jesus off. He hadn't expected... this.

Day 28: Exposure + Secrets Revealed (Alt. Prompt)— Jesus Christ Superstar — As tensions rise amongst two of the apostles while on a mission, some secrets comes to the surface.

Day 29: Burnout + Shivering (Alt. Prompt) — Hamilton— Everything is coming to a breaking point. Words don't look like words anymore. Alexander doesn't feel like Alexander anymore.

Day 30: Recovery + Hospital Bed + "What Have I Done?" — Hamilton · Jamilton—  After an attempt brought on by something Thomas said, he's left to pick up the pieces of a broken Hamilton.

Day 31: Asking For Help + Therapy — 9-1-1 — No one can understand why Buck is so averse to therapy.

+ ALTERNATIVE IDEAS!!!

Body Swap— Judas' kiss wasn't that of betrayal.

Finding Old Messages + Regret + Forgotten — Aaron Burr finds an old, unopened letter in a coat he wore in his younger years. The coat he wore to Hamilton's wedding.

Friendly Fire + Survivor's Guilt— John hadn't meant to hit him. He truly didn't. But Alexander was still on the ground.

Time Loop— Jesus and Mary don't abandon Judas once the three days have come and gone. Their love perseveres. And they would have followed him anywhere.

Venom— The snakes of the desert were the furthest thing from Jesus' mind. Maybe they shouldn't have been.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Louisiana Rain

Day #20 - Under the Covers | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex, Brief Mentions of Past Trauma/Loss | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth/Di (OC) | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Marriage, Post-Corroded Coffin, Gareth & Eddie are BFFs, Traveling Sucks, Delayed Flights, Coming Home, That Middle of the Night Quiet

This is set in the same 'verse as Tuesday's/Wildflowers, but is standalone.

He drops his bag at the front door and toes off his shoes, first one, then the other. Nudging them under the bench so they're out of the way. It's late. Way later than he should be tonight, but flight delay after flight delay has made this damn day hours longer than it was supposed to be.

That cut into his days off, which fucking sucks. He loves touring, loves being on the road, but that's only because he can balance it with time at home. Because there's nothing more important, definitely not the music industry. It'll chew you up and spit you out, in the blink of an eye. 

He's still learning, still growing up, but that? That he knows. He learned it hard and fast in the woods of Louisiana at twenty-five. Plane crashed, friends and band, gone. He learned it at twenty-three, car being searched, drugs seized, sitting in the back of a podunk cop car. 

He's thirty now, but feels somehow both older and younger at the same time.

It's pretty late, but Gareth dials Eddie's number, intending to let it ring once, and then hang up. That's their signal that he's home, that his plane landed, that he's fine.

But the line connects immediately, "You're late."

Gareth laughs, "Tell me about it. I didn't think I was ever getting out of the airport today."

Eddie makes a sound, a clucking noise with his tongue, so Gareth reassures him, "I'm fine. Just several delays. Nothing else to report."

He could tell him that he was stranded in the airport in Baton Rouge for six hours, but there's no sense in riling him up. Looking down over the trees as they finally took off, he couldn't know if they were actually flying over where their plane went down, their lives permanently changed, but it still felt slightly uncomfortable and if he squeezed the armrests extra tight, nobody would know but him.

"Okay," Eddie finally says, "see you tomorrow, kid."

It's not a question, but it doesn't need to be, because of course he wants to see Eddie.

Eddie doesn't say anything else, and the line goes dead.

Gareth wanted to say it's already tomorrow, turn Eddie's constant refrain back on him, but everybody knows it doesn't count unless you've slept, so Gareth isn't about to argue with him. Not if Eddie's finally come around to Gareth's way of thinking.

Gareth goes into the guest bathroom, not wanting to wake her, but needing to wash the plane off of him, all the same. And when he crawls into bed, under the covers, hair wet, but feeling much more like himself, she slides her arm over his waist. 

"You finally made it," Di says. He'd called from every airport he'd been stuck in, a snowballed disaster of a day. It could have been fixed by chartering a private plane or a smaller aircraft, but there are rules Gareth follows, superstitions, and if he had to wait for the jet, he had to wait for the jet. 

"Eddie called. Twice," Di says around a yawn, and Gareth laughs. Of course he did. Of course Eddie knew he was running late, and why, but still had to pick up and give him shit about it.

"Yeah, he picked up when I called," Gareth says. 

She smiles against his chest, "He was worried. Even if I told him you were fine, just annoyed."

Eddie worries. It's what he does. Gareth can't blame him.

She slides her hand down his stomach, grazing the elastic band of his boxer briefs, "Too tired…or?"

He's never too tired for that, and he laughs, "I think I could be persuaded."

She laughs, and hooks her leg over his thighs, sliding on top of him. Palming him through his underwear. 

"Let me do all the work," she says, and he grinds up into her hand, through the fabric between them. 

He lifts his hips, helping her as she pulls his boxers off, tossing them over the side of the bed.

"Di," he breathes out, and then she lifts up her hips, and sinks down on him. Holy shit. 

He was expecting some foreplay, expecting to go down on her first, and he definitely wasn't expecting her to be this goddamn wet. 

He arches up, tilting his head back on the pillow. 

"Goddamn," he breathes out, and she giggles. 

He slides his hands up under the old t-shirt she's wearing, something he'd stolen from Eddie in another lifetime, and grips both of her hips, and feels his wedding ring pinch and dig into his other fingers as he squeezes. It's been five years, and he still can't believe she actually agreed to marry him. 

She grinds down onto his dick, setting the pace, the angle, and he's really just along for the ride, here. Not that he has any complaints about that. It's not gonna take long, not for either of them, and that's okay. That's not what tonight is, they'll have time for that later, before he catches the next plane.

And he's right, she comes quickly, easily, clenching down on him, squeezing, pulsing and he follows her over the edge. Forcing his hips upwards, taking her up off the bed with him, as he comes.

She stays seated on his cock, leaning forward, laying against him. Her hands find both of his cheeks, holding his face. He trails his fingers up and down her spine, gently as he goes soft in her body. It's gonna be a mess if it all leaks back out onto him, but he really doesn't care. 

She's the best thing that ever happened to him, and he still worries he might be the worst that ever happened to her, sometimes. He knows that's not true, not now. Water under the bridge, but the thought still worries him, poking the sore spots, from time to time, under the cover of night. 

"I love you," he says, and she squeezes him tighter.

He's home.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 20 - 616

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: Sineala

One of the things I love most about Sineala's writing - other than the general brilliance of it - is how much work she puts into tying her fics into canon. I feel like most of what I know about Marvel Comics I learned by reading the helpful notes she adds to her works, explaining which volumes and arcs each canon element is from. Aside from that, Sineala is one of the best writers in the fandom (in my opinion, but honestly, it's just a fact), and I love everything she's ever written. I've recommended a bunch of her stuff this year already, but honestly, you should just read her entire AO3 catalogue.

Here's some of her work that I think you should check out:

Every Now and Then I Fall Apart

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 6,000 Tags: Truth Spells, Chronic Pain, Secrets

Summary: When Tony gets hit by a truth spell, the consequences aren't what anyone expected. They're sure not what Tony expected. He wishes he could stop telling his teammates about all the medical problems he tries to hide. As long as he doesn't open his mouth and reveal his secret feelings for Steve, or all his secret inadequacies as a human being, though, everything's going to be fine. And Tony's good at keeping secrets... or so he thinks. But maybe Steve knows him better than he knows himself. And just because Tony believes something, that doesn't make it the truth.

Reasons why I love it: I'm always down for a truth serum fic, and this one is absolutely lovely. Tony being a fan of Total Eclipse of the Heart makes me unreasonably happy, and I love how angsty his accidental confessions are. And of course, the Stony in this is wonderful. I love this fic so much, please go and read it!

Down to Zero

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 18,336 Tags: Temporary Amnesia, Extremis, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After a battle against the Controller goes awry, Steve is bewildered and guilt-ridden when Tony begins to treat him exactly the same as he treats everyone else.

Reasons why I love it: Holy fuck, this fic is good. I love how guilty Steve feels about taking Tony for granted, and how he immediately knows that something is wrong with him, even when nobody else does. The resolution, once Tony gets his memories back, is fantastic and always puts a smile on my face. I adore this fic, and if you haven't read it yet, you absolutely have to!

Trust Fall

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 39,107 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Coming in Pants

Summary: Tony needs someone who cares about him, bandages, a jacket, ibuprofen, dinner, a lasting romantic relationship, a nice time in bed, and assistance committing federal crimes. He gets them. In that order.

Reasons why I love it: Aaaah, give me all the feels!!! The hurt/comfort is incredible. Steve is so caring, and I want to wrap Tony up in blankets. And oh my god, the smut! It's everything I never knew I needed. This fic was an instant favorite for me, and I've probably read it twenty times since it came out. So yeah, if you haven't read it yet, please go and do that now, you won't regret it!

The Fall and the Rise

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 5,148 Tags: Fix-it, De-Serumed Steve, End of the World

Summary: After the Great Society incursion, the Illuminati refuse to destroy another world. When the next incursion looms, they go to await their deaths in peace. Tony ends up on the doorstep of the last man who ever wanted to see him. At least he's going to die at Steve's side.

Reasons why I love it: This one HURTS, but in a really hopeful way, if that makes sense? The angst is superb, and I love how the bitterness can't quite overshadow the affection they still have for each other. This fic stuck with me for a long time after I read it, so I hope you go and experience it for yourself.

And in Your Head It's Worse

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 30,204 Tags: BDSM, Scene Gone Wrong, Aftercare

Summary: Tonight is Steve and Tony's anniversary. And since they have the night off, it's the perfect time for Steve to tie Tony to the bed and drive him out of his mind, until Tony can barely remember his own name. It is definitely not the perfect time for Ghost to attack Stark Tower.

Reasons why I love it: This fic explores subspace and especially subdrop in a really compelling way. I love how Sine created the perfect awful situation for Steve and Tony to be in, only to fix it with the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff. It's lovely, and cements its status as one of my all-time favorite comfort fics. I love it so much, and I bet you will too!

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

for the sprint challenge, trying to pick some fun random words! how about any of peanut, saxophone, kitty cat, or doorknob.

Oh these are creative ones! Thank you!

I didn't have peanut so I did a sprint with false confidence and added 232 words with it:

“Should’ve never shown the team that video,” Roy said.

“You're right. But that’s my fault too.”

Roy raised an eyebrow at him, “how the fuck do you see that?”

“I was stuck in my head that week. More stuck than that time my hand got stuck in the peanut butter jar. You ever got your hand stuck in one of those? It’s all sticky so you think you’d get unstuck but then you’re just stuck stuck. Shoot, I’ve said stuck too much now, you ever done that? Said a word too much now it lost all its meaning? Stuuuuuuuuuck. Stu-”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ted. Get it together before I stick my head through a fucking wall.”

saxophone I also did not have, so I sprinted with Dear Leslie and added it (and wrote 378 new words):

“Okay, well let me use a different example then. Did you know before I played the bass I played saxophone?” Higgins asked.  “No, I wish I could play a saxophone. Or bass. Or anything really,” Keeley said.  “Turns out I could not play saxophone either. I was bad. Tremendously bad. But I played until my saxophone was run over by a car.” “Shit, Higgins, did you leave it in the drive, or it fell off a bus or something?” “No, my father threw it into the street and repeatedly ran it over with his car.”

(kitty) cat from that star in the sky who watches over you:

“You’re a 20-year-old professional footballer, so why do you look like someone kicked your cat?” “I don’t,” Jamie tries to defend, looking away from her.  Georgie gently grabs his face and forces him to look at her. She’s struck by how old he looks suddenly. Twenty years old and carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. She stares into his eyes, and that’s when she notices. Georgie can’t believe she didn’t notice it before, see it clearly, but she’d been caught up in the day.  “Jamie, why are you wearing concealer?” “What?” he says, pulling his face from her hand and taking a step back. “I’m not. That’s for fucking women.” “Women and people who are trying to hide bruises,” Georgie said, and she reached for her son again.

This fic is one I need to dive into edit mode with so it's not really sprintable. But I did sprint an AU I’m working on and added 148 words, here is a small snippet from the chapter I added to.

“Another problem,” Higgins said, grimacing. “We can cover these new additions for now but–”

“But we’re going to run out of money for next season.”

“Exactly. We haven’t been selling out even half of the tickets. Half the marketing department left with Rupert or should have never been hired to begin with.”

“So we need a new marketing agency,” Rebecca smiled. “Let me take care of that.”

I did have doorknob in old habits die screaming:

“Jamie, open the door,” Willis tried again.

He started picking up various rocks and potted plants, searching for a hidden key but couldn’t find one, even tried the doorknob in case Jamie hadn’t locked the door.

“Just go, Coach, please.”

The pleading tone made it clear how desperate he was for Beard to leave, but it only increased Beard’s need to get inside, or to at least lay eyes on Jamie and see for himself he was okay.

“Jamie, I’m not leaving until you open the door.”

And I added 355 words via sprint!

Beard sighed to himself. It was interesting now being in London, coaching without Ted. He had been an extension of Ted for so long, he hadn’t bothered making his own relationships with the team. Maybe he should have. Maybe he wouldn’t be sitting at Jamie’s bedside right now.

Ted always said be curious not judgemental. That was them, Ted was curious, Beard was judgemental. Ted had his own tragedy in his life, but Beard hadn’t had the luxury of being curious, so he was judgemental. It helped save his life in prison.

You can’t be curious in prison.

But he wasn’t in prison any longer.

[alimaybankkk]

party monster

fic based on party monster by the weeknd

summary: after a failed talking stage with jj, you find out he’s trying to forget as hard as you are. after doing the thing he does most (hit it and quit it), he realizes something and comes looking for you

warnings: angst, illusions to sex, alcohol, being drunk

pairing: jj maybank x reader

————————————————————————

i’m good, i’m good, i’m great.

you stopped when you saw him walk in the party, probably coming to do the same thing you did.

forget.

he looked amazing. abs painting body from his torso from his chest, (he had his suit unbuttoned), causing you to take a double take. but that wasn’t what made you so interested.

he had a girl’s arm slung around his shoulder.

she was ditsy, tripping on jj’s feet. it was jj’s type; blonde and dumb. dumb blonde.

you frowned, taking a sip from your solo cup and looking away.

eventually after dropping the girl off with her friends and receiving yells and insults from her as she realized jj wasn’t serious about what most likely happened last night, he made his way to the bar and ordered a drink.

he was going through his wallet for his card when he looked up and saw you staring at him. he didn’t look a certain way. he just looked back down.

“yo, jj,” a random kook came up to him and said, “hundred bucks if you could chug twenty beers tonight.”

jj shrugged. “deal. got two done already.”

“attaboy!” the kook slapped his back and jj chuckled.

he took his drink from the bartender at last and made his way to the rest of his friends, making eye contact with you on the way.

* he had spent five minutes with his friends before going back to the bar and ordering more beers. beer after beer.

he was on beer 10.

know it’s been a while now i’m mixing up the drink.

* after 10 more drinks, he received the hundred dollars from the kook. the deal was done and he went over to his friends to inform him of the easy cash he made.

“jj, you drank 20 beers?!” pope was alarmed.

so were you, even. you were trying to listen to your friends while you watched him, but he was too distracting—stumbling over everything he walked by.

speaking of walking by, when he was making his way back to the bar for more beer, he came across a blonde in a revealing dress.

i just need a girl who gon’ really understand.

i just need a girl who gon’ really understand.

i’m good, i’m good, i’m great.

know it’s been a while now i’m mixing up the drank.

i just need a girl who gon really understand,

i just need a girl who gon really understand.

he smiled at her, starting to flirt. at last, he said, “how about i buy you a drink?”

she agreed and followed him to the bar, giggling as he bought her a few different drinks.

and i’ve seen her get richer in the pole,

i’ve seen her, i knew she had to know,

she looked at him hesitantly before he motioned for her to take a shot. “okay!” she giggled and tipped it back.

i’ve seen her take down that tequila.

you frowned as he high fived her and whispered in her ear. she blushed shyly and nodded, walking away.

you sighed, knowing what was about to happen. you just shook it off, following your friends to the burning bonfire.

giggling for at least a minute, you were later greeted by jj who stood in front of you like a little boy.

“y/n,” he said. “nice to see you.”

the same boy greeted you. the same boy that told you he didn’t want to date you and that you should remain friends, but it never worked out. it was the same boy that drifted from you.

down by the liter, i knew i had to meet her.

“what do you want, jj,” you asked.

“i want to talk.”

you looked at your friends who encouraged you and you stood, following jj further into the backyard.

“don’t you have a girl to be fucking right now?” you couldn’t help but be smart with him.

“i don’t care about her. i care about you,” he said.

“you dropped me, jj. i don’t want to hear about it.”

“i’m sorry. but i just… are you seeing any guys right now?”

“yes.” you lied.

“shit,” he ran his hands through his hair and kicked the grass. “fuck!”

“so are you!” you reminded him.

“i don’t care about her, i care about you! i already said this.”

“no you don’t, jj.” you said.

“please.. you’re mine. my girl, please. don’t see any guys.”

oo, she mine, oo girl bump and grind,

oo, she mine, oo girl bump a line.

“the fuck?” you shoved his chest. “you… you pushed me away and now you fuck girls on the daily but i can’t even go on a date?”

“i’m sorry, i… i’ll go and find that blonde and tell her i don’t want her. i promise.” jj begged.

you shook your head. “i got to go. bye.”

* he cursed as he opened the door to the twinkie, winking at the blonde. “let’s go back to my place, shall we?”

and he got carried away into the night. got

angelina, lips like angelina

like selena, ass shaped like selena.

* as you woke up, you thought of jj and exactly what was happening right now.

got up, thank the lord for the day,

woke up by a girl i don’t even know her name

woke up by a girl i don’t even know her name

i’m good, i’m good, i’m great know it's been a while, now I'm mixing up the drank I just need a girl who gon' really understand I just need a girl who gon' really understand I'm good, I'm good, I'm great Know it's been a while, now I'm mixing up the drank I just need a girl who gon' really understand I just need a girl who gon' really understand

he rolled over and slid away from the girl’s naked chest. she rolled over and looked at him in the eyes. “last night was great, don’t you think?”

“yeah..” jj trailed off. she reached to pet his hair and he cringed.

“the only problem was, you weren’t calling me by my name.”

“i wasn’t? well… i was drunk. what did i call you?”

she blinked and smiled. “y/n.”

he dropped his head back, sighing. “what’s your name again?”

“what the fuck?” she squealed, sitting up. “so, that’s it? you’re a hit it and quit it guy, aren’t you?”

“sorry,” he whispered. “i just have feelings for someone else.”

“whatever,” she scoffed, picking up her clothes and getting dressed. “i’m leaving. you don’t deserve me.”

he closed his eyes, cursing to himself.

* jj couldn’t lie. even when you and him were in the talking stage, girls were all over him. he never had feelings for them, though, and he doesn’t now, either.

he wished you were the girl he was able to get.

bitches in my new spot, crowdin' up my space had to check the safe, check the dresser for my chains got up, thank the lord for the day woke up by a girl, i don't even know her name bitches in my new spot, crowdin' up my space had to check the safe, check the dresser for my chains

* jj couldn’t take it anymore. he had to come and find you.

he rode his bike to your house and thought the entire time of what to say.

wasting no time, he barged into your house using the key you hid under your carpet. when he got in though, he immediately regretted it.

“yes, right there,” he heard you say. he walked up the stairs slowly and quietly.

he slightly creeped open your door and immediately felt relief. inside was you and your little sister on the floor as she gave you a massage.

“y/n,” he whispered.

you looked up. “jj?”

“i—i came… all… the way here, baby. i NEED to talk to you,” he begged. you sighed and dismissed your sister from the room.

“what?”

“i—i slept with that girl last night..” he confessed.

“ course you did,” you rolled your eyes and stood, ready to make jj leave.

“but wait,” he stopped you. “i thought of you the whole time.”

“what?” you scoffed. “but we never even…”

“yeah, i know. but… it’s just. i think of you ALL the time.”

why?

it’s like he read your mind, because he continued. “because, y/n, i love you.”

you froze. you didn’t think before smashing your lips to his.

he melted into the kiss, turning it into a passionate and soft one.

“i love you too, jj.”

“damn, thank the lord. i thought you were literally having sex with someone up here when i came in,” he chuckled.

“you’re paranoid,” you giggled.

paranoid (paranoid) paranoid (p-paranoid) paranoid (p-paranoid) but i see something in you (you're paranoid) paranoid (paranoid) paranoid (p-paranoid) paranoid (p-paranoid) but i see something in you (i see something in you)

you’re paranoid

[mylittleredgirl]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @geneeste. :) i may have done this one before, but tumblr blog search was traditionally unhelpful and i have several very important things i should be doing, so here we are <3

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 219

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 655,471

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stargate atlantis is the runaway lead, then sg-1, 90s/00s treks, the x-files, and a grab bag of other things. only two fics so far for m*a*s*h but the forecast looks good!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

no sooner met (star trek voyager, j/c, eight years of friends-to-lovers in 5k or less)

career day (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, damn that sure was a choice to go back to high school amirite)

next chapter (the good place, chidi/eleanor, the intimacy of reading)

first date (star trek voyager, j/c, falling in love again)

occupational hazards (the good place, chidi/eleanor, eleanor would rather not be the architect)

5. Do you respond to comments?

eventually!!!! i tend to keep nice ones on my home page for a while to cheer me up and then sometimes they get buried. i wake up nights like "damn the good place fandom really went all out with amazing comments on that random fic in like 2018 and i never replied," so maybe i need to go through my inbox and belatedly clear my cosmic debts.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

twilight (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, what if john didn't break the cycle). strong on style but real weak on comfort.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

weaving loose ends (stargate sg-1, sam/jack) ends with a wedding! in twenty years of writing romance fic, that has maybe only happened once?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not yet! but the year is young.

a fic of mine did cause a dramatic fandom schism once, in the dancing with the stars fandom no less. a splinter fan group created in exile! a mod claiming to be personal friends with the stars! everybody storming out and then blocking each other! so my fic did cause hate, but somehow i personally escaped unscathed. i didn't even get blocked. (lesson: in some spaces, rpf is encouraged until They Fuck. second lesson: if you start a fire and then stay very quiet, everyone forgets about you.)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do!! i guess!! but i'm struggling with it right now and it's giving me a complex. and "what kind" is like......... vanilla het fic for the most part tbh. gauzy curtain vibes, even. basically, i have to really sit and think about whether to rate something M or E, you know?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

yes, but not since the x-files days. rip geocities webrings we salute you for your years of service.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but i think i'd like to! passing chapters back and forth sleepover style like "haha write your way out of THIS" would be fun. (or collaborating in a more mundane way, i guess....)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

john sheppard/elizabeth weir (stargate atlantis). first fic in the tag and i'm still fuckin there. three years on tv and a lifetime in my goddamn brain.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

realistically, i'm feeling pretty down on the chances that i'll ever finish ANY wip that's longer than 20k, but the two long ones withering on the vine that i'd like to finish are a sam/jack sg1 episodic soulmate fic and "what if janeway went undercover with the maquis instead of tuvok: the novel."

16. What are your writing strengths?

stealing one of geneeste's answers because "character complexity" is a good one! i don't feel satisfied with any fic unless i feel like i have learned something new about a character, or highlighted it in a new way.

my more specific strength, according to @coraclavia, is missing-scene fics that weave through an entire series canon to make a thesis statement (they are In Love).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

😭 i can't write anything long 😭 i really wish i were different 😭 i envy those of you with staying power who can return to a story after going to work or writing something else and keep plugging away at it. i used to write sprawling things when i was a teen, but since becoming Adult With Job now many years ago, i've totally lost that skill!!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

haaaahahahaha. talk about a weakness. i literally couldn't bring myself to write a fic that required dialogue in Ancient from stargate, a language that -- i cannot stress this enough -- is not even real. i'm like "well maybe i'll study latin for three years and then analyze all the episodes where they speak it to reverse engineer the differences so i can write the bastardized space latin correctly" GIRL WHY. JUST FUCK IT UP.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

first completed story that i recall would have been star trek voyager in my early teens, and by the grace of rural internet and some kind of prescient sense of self-preservation, it does not live online. first internet-published fic was several years later, for the x-files. for better or worse, that one can still be found.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

i think pieces (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, catharsis through sex pollen) might be the new best, and i had a lot of fun writing erasers on pencils (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, catharsis through truancy).

--

i am sure many of my fic-writer-meme friends have done this already but @ussjellyfish if your answers have changed since whenever you did it last; i'd love to hear how @havocthecat, @anretc, and @coraclavia would answer this; and blowing dandelion meme seeds over the fence to the mash fandom: @remyfire!

[thankeywa]

Star-crossed. Lo'ak x f!human!reader pt.1

I know that literally nobody asked for this, but I've noticed a disturbing lack of Lo'ak fics out there, so I've decided to give my input. I've had a story in mind for a while now, and I needed to get it out there. It will be a reader insert to make it more accessible, but it's somewhat based around an original f!character, so I apologize for that in advance if it gets too specific.

WARNINGS: Lo'ak is 20 years old in this and so is the reader, I do not write about minor characters. There will be eventual mature themes in this so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK.

For everyone else, if you like my writing, please let me know if you want to be on the tag list for future installments and SEND ME REQUESTS (head canons, imagines, sfw/nsfw, ecc.) ! I love that shit.

words: around 1.200

summary: reader is a human left behind on pandora, she grew up with the remaining humans who'd been aloud to stay on the planet after the war and has been friends with the Sully clan her entire life. She and Lo'ak were best friends until he began to pull away from her in their teen years for seemingly no reason. This story is about them reconnecting on the day of her twentieth birthday, and dealing with the feelings they have for each other and the obstacles that come with them being from two different worlds.

TW for this chapter: angst, smoking (don't do it, ever), brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of war and death, brief mention of child birth, reader can breathe on pandora.

Y/n looked at the 'birthday cake' made out of cookie rations that Norm and Max had made for her. No matter how many years would pass, her dads always knew how to get creative.

"I'm twenty years old, you guys don't have to keep throwing me a birthday party." She reprimanded them softly, though her heart was filled with joy. Y/n was so thankful to have people in her life who cared enough to make her day special every single year.

"Considering you spent most of your early existence tied to test tubes to stay alive, we're merely celebrating the scientific marvel your continued survival has been." Norm joked, raising a beer, and y/n shoved him, before blowing out the single candle that had been meticulously re-used each year. It was a wonder how there was any wax still left on it.

"What did the birthday girl wish for?" Max asked, reaching for a dried-up cookie and cringing slightly at the taste as he chewed on it slowly. "The whole point of a birthday wish is to keep it to myself... or it won't come true. Honestly, I question your two's knowledge of Earth's traditions." y/n shook her head, before taking a celebratory sip of alcohol.

Norm and Max left eventually, back to the main base. They were more than capable of piloting a helicopter those days, and y/n was all grown up. More than capable of living by herself. What once had been an avatar lab, smack dab in the middle of the forests of Pandora, had been converted into her home. Pandora's rapidly repopulating fauna had surprisingly left her residence alone, well... mostly. There were still some creatures who couldn't help but keep themselves away. And by creatures, she meant Spider. Y/n was also friends with actual people like Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, and... Lo'ak. Truth be told, she didn't know whether or not she and Lo'ak were even friends anymore. They'd been thick as thieves for as long as she could remember, always getting him out of trouble and fixing him up after a scuffle with his siblings. But then, around her sixteenth birthday, he'd started pulling away, and y/n had never understood why. They'd had a big fight about it, bottom line, he hadn't wanted to be around her anymore and y/n had to accept it.

"Open up! It's fucking freezing out here!" Came Spider's loud voice followed by an incessant banging on the door that immediately pulled y/n out of her reverie. "Alright, alright..." she laughed a little as she went to let them all inside. The Sullys were always insisting on spending birthdays together, even though some of them were now getting too big to even fit inside her 'home'. Neteyam had to walk around with his back bent forward, and Kiri knocked over quite a few things before they made it to y/n's main living space, which was more or less Na've-proof. "Happy birthday!" Tuk hugged her and y/n struggled not to feel crushed by the embrace. Even the littlest Sully was now nearly as tall as her.

Y/n let them all inside, already giving them dirty looks at the sight of gifts. "I told you guys not to..."

She stayed on the doorstep a little longer, gazing out into the night, desperately hoping one last uninvited guest would turn up. She felt Neteyam's hand on her shoulder. "He's not coming. I tried to talk to him but he was being a skxawng as usual..." Y/n blushed, not really wanting Neteyam to know she was pining for his younger brother. "Oh, right! I was—just checking you were all here..." she closed the door and they both went back to join the others.

___

"Alright come on, your mom is going to kill me if you get back late and I don't have enough space in here for all of you. Spider would have to sleep outside." Y/n teased, trying to let Tuk understand it was time to go. "Hey!" Spider protested at her lighthearted jab, but knew it was time for them to get going. Nobody wanted to get on Neytiri's bad side. Y/n hugged them all goodbye and thanked them for the presents: Tuk had made her a lovely drawing, and the others had collectively made her a rather beautiful necklace, which she immediately wore. Y/n waited on her doorstep till she could no longer hear the sounds of her friends chatting, and then proceeded to do two incredibly dangerous things: she sat outside of the protection of her bunker, all alone in the cold Pandora night air, and lit up a cigarette.

She'd discovered a terrifyingly endless supply of cigarette cartoons back at the base almost a year prior, and as soon as she'd tried her first one, she'd gotten addicted. Y/n hadn't told Norm or Max, of course, as it would have broken their hearts, especially because of how fragile she was. Y/n's mother had gone into labor in the aftermath of the battle for Pandora between the Na'vi and the Sky people. The soldier had lost her life giving birth, but her baby had survived, taking her first breath in the inhospitable Pandora air. Norm was convinced Eywa herself had kept her alive, had given her the ability to take in the air that hadn't previously failed to kill any other human. Sure, it had come at the price of being particularly fragile her entire life. And how was y/n repaying that gift? By cutting her miraculous existence short more and more each day. Thankfully, it was a while since she'd been used as a test rat, or had check ups of any sort. As far as the Sullys were concerned... they were way better off not even knowing what she was doing to herself.

A sudden rustling in the trees instantly made y/n alert and she didn't waste any time getting back inside. She showered, and shamefully hid her smokes somewhere her dads or the Sullys wouldn't look. When she had nothing else left to do, y/n forced herself to crawl into bed, placing a hand over her necklace. Her wish to see Lo'ak hadn't come true in the end, and while not surprising, it still hurt like hell.

"A pack of viperwolves? Seriously, Lo'ak?" Y/n groaned in frustration as she cleared her table for her best friend to lie on.

"I thought I could take them." He hissed as she doused him with disinfectant. "Yeah, well, you know human medical treatment hurts like a bitch, so it's either my way, or you're going to have to fess up to your parents about what you did." Y/n tried to sound cold, but she'd always been too soft on him.

When they were younger, and Lo'ak still hadn't grown to be double her size, they would often fall asleep together in her bed. "You don't have to keep doing this shit to prove something, you know?" She whispered to him one night, turning over to look at him and gently touch his face. "Your parents love you. And so do Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk and Spider. Lo'ak, I— we— don't want to lose you."

Y/n was almost asleep when a loud 'thud' coming from outside woke her. Something was moving on her roof, or rather, someone... Y/n didn't show whether she was dreaming or not as she looked out the window and locked eyes with Lo'ak, because the second she did, he seemed to slide off the top of her bucker, falling down into the grass below with a loud groan.

He'd probably just woken up half of the animals on Pandora.