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daemour · 1 year ago

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Pairing: royalty!Mingi x royalty gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, light angst, royalty au, arranged marriage au

Warnings: none

WC: 1898

Summary: You and Mingi aren't friends, not even after marriage. But you're not enemies either. In fact, you don't know where you stand but after an incident maybe it could be something more?

after being complained at for "never writing Mingi" (ahem @mingsolo) here we are! to tide us over while i struggle through nanowrimo i have a handful of prewritten fics so y'all aren't dehydrated

“With the power vested in me by the Gods, I unite Princess (Y/N) (L/N) and Crown Prince Mingi Song in holy matrimony, thus joining their kingdoms.”

The priest leads the two of you to join hands, and as you do light shines from within your clasped hands. The ceremony is over and you are now married to the…well, former nemesis of your people. The funniest thing was when you were just toddlers, your parents had even talked about marrying the two of you together. But then something changed. And it wasn’t long before both countries were locked in a war before you even had the chance to talk to the prince for more than your greetings.

It was devastating. Both countries were large and powerful, and the smaller kingdoms around them suffered for it. It was only when his father died that the high empire intervened and, as a result, decided to use your marriage to make peace. Mingi would not be crowned until he was married to you, and the wedding took place much sooner than you had hoped.

Which brings you to now. Neither you nor Mingi talked or even looked at each other the entire carriage ride home. It was not a joyous occasion, not for the two of you. No shared beds, or rooms, just barely acknowledging each others' presence.

In fact, you’re pretty sure he hates you. He rarely acknowledges your presence. You don’t know what to do with yourself in this hellhole. All you do is show your face in the throne room when needed and then retreat to either your private gardens or room until next called for.

“Yuri, could you do me a favour?” you call for your handmaiden, who might just be one of your only friends in this dreadful castle. The servants like you well enough but there’s only some much kindness they can offer before the nobles’ words get to you.

“Yes, milady?” Like a ghost, she moves to stand beside you, her hair glowing in the sun. Sometimes you look at her and feel she would be a so much better fit for the role of queen here. You can barely hold the attention of the court ladies while Yuri can shut them up with a single polite sentence. “How may I assist you today?”

“Could you do me a favour and fetch me some tea? You know my favourite. I’ll take it in my room, and you can take the day off.”

Yuri bows her head. “Thank you, milady.” You can hear the smile in her voice, excited at the prospect of a day off. You wave her off and as she enters the side door, you lean back on your hands and enjoy the rays of sunshine on your face for just a moment alone. You take moments like this with gratefulness, as it’s only when you’re truly alone that you feel almost at home.

With another sigh and a crack of your back, you brush off your full skirts and make your way to your room. It’s when you almost reach your quarters that you run into Lady Miyoung, a lady of high social standing that you heard was rumoured to be marrying Mingi before the war had started.

“Lady Miyoung, what a surprise,” you greet her quietly, tilting your head into a bow. “I did not expect to see you near this wing.” You did not expect her because this area is regulated strictly as only you, your personal servants, and your husband are allowed entrance.

“Oh, yes, a pleasant surprise, I’m sure,” Miyoung sniffs haughtily and your eye twitches. As much as she despises you, she’s popular among the court and if you dare raise a word against her the social exile you would face would be irreparable. “I heard the most interesting conversation the other day, you know.”

“Ah,” you are not quite that interested in court gossip, but if Miyoung found her way into your wing without being stopped, it must be something important.

“I heard,” Miyoung leans in as if you’re sharing secrets about childhood crushes, “that King Mingi has been looking for a second wife to bear him a son. A woman of his court, with high social standing, of course. In fact, I heard that he’s quite sick of his war trophy.”

And her words cut you deep. You know she’s referring to herself as the lady of the court with a high social standing, and that you are his war trophy. She’s not subtle, but she’s subtle enough that you cannot sentence her to anything without the wrath of the court against you. You feel your throat tightening but you force an almost painful smile on your face. “I see. Well, the rumours of the court have no bearing on how I will go about my day, so I thank you for your wisdom. You may leave.”

Miyoung raises a perfectly shaped brow, no doubt pleased at your obvious hurt but also craving more of a reaction. “Now, now, there’s no haste. A court doll like you must have nothing else of interest as her husband, His Royal Majesty, has much more important matters to attend to.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Never before had a court lady been so openly disdainful of you. Behind your back, easily, but to your face and in your quarters? You open your mouth to rebuke her but before a single word leaves your mouth, you hear wind rushing past your ears as a person stands before you. As your eyes move up his broad back your hand flies to your mouth as you recognise the back of Mingi’s head.

“My King,” Miyoung stutters out, just as surprised at his sudden appearance.

“Why are you here?” Mingi’s booming voice echoes in the narrow hallway. “I do not recall you being given permission to be in this area of the castle.”

“Why, Queen (Y/N) invited me herself,” she lies straight out of her teeth.

Mingi looks back at you, his eyebrow raised as he awaits your confirmation. And on any other occasion, maybe you would have folded in your eagerness to please the court, but your heart still stings from Miyoung’s words. You shake your head ever so imperceptibly.

Mingi nods. “I see. Now, Lady Miyoung,” his head snaps back to her and she has the audacity to flutter her eyelashes at him. “Lying to the King and putting words in the Queen Consort’s mouth is a punishment worthy of being stripped of your title.”

“Your Majesty!” Miyoung squawks and Mingi holds up a hand to silence her in the middle of her sentence.

“Not to mention the other offences I heard when walking by,” Mingi continues and Miyoung swallows as she realises the trouble she put herself into. “Spreading harmful rumours about the King and the Queen Consort?”

“You’re majesty, I wasn’t–” Miyoung tries to save herself but Mingi is not having it.

“Keep your snake mouth shut” he snaps “lest I cut your tongue off for disrespecting my wife. You have, by extent, insulted me as well. Second wife? Don’t make me laugh. Queen (Y/N) is a hundred times more the queen you would ever be.”

Before Miyoung could protest anymore, Mingi snaps his fingers and guards you didn’t even expect to be there come out of the shadows to take Miyoung by the arms.

“My King!”

“Mingi!”

Both you and Miyoung gasp in surprise, although yours is more confused and hers is plain offence, but Mingi ignores you both as he addresses his guards. “Take Lady Miyoung to the dungeons while I decide what to do with her.”

And without hesitation, the soldiers drag an offended and whining Miyoung away. It’s only when her hollers finally cease that you snap to attention, quickly bowing at your husband. “I didn’t expect you to be here, Mingi,” you state as he bows back. “I thank you for your help in dealing with Lady Miyoung, though.”

Mingi sighs. “I should’ve done more before, (Y/N), and I’m sorry. I should’ve known how hard it would be for you, moving so soon after the war.”

You shake your head as your hands clutch at your full skirts. “You have no obligation towards me. Lady Miyoung was, in a way, correct about one thing. I am a war trophy.”

“No obligation?” Mingi’s voice raises in volume but he pauses to calm himself down after he notices you flinch at the volume of it. “(Y/N), you are my wife. The furthest possible thing from a trophy. I should have nipped the gossip in the bud—neither of us wanted a war and we could not control our circumstances.” Mingi reaches forward, almost as if to hold your hands, but decides against it, his hands just hovering awkwardly in the air.”

“But you don’t care,” you contradict him, your voice small. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but I rarely ever see you, and the court thinks I’m a joke. I can’t show my face without hearing the whispers behind my back. I do my best to listen to the commoner’s struggles and offer solutions but there’s only so much I can do when the officials and their wives are against me.”

Your words stun Mingi to his core. “You think I’m indifferent?” At your careful nod, he overcomes his hesitation and takes your shaking hands, bringing them to his chest as you are pulled forward at the motion. “My wife, I adore you. I would be lying to call it love, but I hold you in such high regard, and given time, I would come to love you if you’d let me. I am so sorry that you came to that conclusion.”

You hesitate before reaching forward and squeezing his warm, large hands. “It’s okay,” you whisper. When Mingi raises an eyebrow you laugh breathily at his suspicion. “It truly is. Yes, I felt alone and out of place, but your words and kindness have comforted me. We can try again. I’ll attend more councils with you as is my duty, and we can have lunch together afterwards. I’ll do my best to appeal more to the nobles and we can get to know each other. I don’t hold it against you, Mingi.”

Mingi nods slowly as he processes your words. “We shall,” he smiles and you can’t help but smile back. He brings your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss against them. “We will, and that’s a promise. I will defend your reputation with all I can, and you will blossom in this court, I’m sure of it.”

You giggle a little at his phrasing and you give his hands another gentle squeeze. “I will hold you to that promise.” A pause as you stare into each others’ eyes and an idea hits you. “Mingi, are you busy right now?”

Mingi shakes his head. “No?” he cocks his head, his eyes warm.

Your eyes shine as your smile grows even more on your face. “Then please do me the honour of accompanying me to my garden, my King.” You punctuate your question with a short laugh and Mingi’s eyes shine as he nods.

“Please, let’s.”

You feel a warmth bloom in your chest as you gently pull him down the hall back from where you came.

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andreafmn · 1 year ago

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12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 4

Word Count: 1.6K Paring: Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @a-cure-for-writers-block: mothering their S/Os younger siblings and making sure they're getting enough to eat

Summary: Lip Gallagher has had a hell of a year, and most of the time he doesn't think he deserve the mercy he's been shown. But (Y/N) will stop at nothing to make sure he and his family know they are taken care of. And he knows it.

A/N: a bit late, but still published. Also, this is very short and sweet and does not follow the canon after season 5. Kind of went off path to give Lip a bit of a quicker redemption. Hope y'all enjoy!

<- Previous | Next ->

“Yo, Lip,” Ian’s sleepy voice rang through his brother’s phone. “Uh, your girlfriend is over here, and I think she’s gone crazy.”

“What you mean?” Lip chuckled as he rubbed his hands together to warm them up. “‘Cause that’s a lot coming from you.”

“Very funny,” he laughed sarcastically. “No, but she made Christmas puke on the house, and she’s been cooking nonstop since this morning. She hounded us all morning until we ate breakfast and wouldn’t stop until we sat down at the table.” ”

Lip couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as he pictured his girlfriend with her face dirtied by food, her hair tied back and away from her face, and her voice carrying around the house as she made sure everyone had eaten. It was one of the things he loved about her and one of the reasons he was glad she had come into his life. “Look, I’ll be home soon,” he chuckled. “Can you just make sure she actually eats? I know she’s gonna forget.”

“Fine,” Ian groaned. “Just hurry up.”

(Y/N) had come into Lip’s life at a moment when he was sure his life would have gone down the rails. She has become his sense of normalcy in his less-than-normal life. He had needed something to ground him back to earth, and that was exactly what she had done. After being so close to rock bottom he could taste the soil on the ground, she had been the only one that had been able to bring him back to his feet.

As he got off the L, he wondered what she could have ever seen in him. She was smart and beautiful and a complete juxtaposition to the man he was. She was sunshine where he was rain, she was happiness where he was gloom, she was future while he was stuck in the past. And she was everything he never thought he needed.

The moment he reached the house, he could hear the chatter from his family and the smell of (Y/N)’s cooking. Inside, Liam, Carl, and Ian were hypnotized by the TV while (Y/N) and Debbie talked away in the kitchen.

Ian had not lied. The Gallagher house had been decorated like it had never been before. From garlands to stockings above the fireplace, to a massive Christmas tree in front of the stairs, it was a scene that had never lived inside that house. “Yo, you weren’t kidding, huh?” Lip chuckled as he shook off his jacket. “Didn’t think we’d ever have these many decorations.”

“And presents,” Carl grinned. “Check under the tree.”

Just like his younger brother had pointed, under the pine rested a couple of boxes wrapped in kraft paper. Each of them had every one of the Gallagher’s names written on them and a glittering red bow around them. It truly was more than Lip could have ever expected.

“Ian, did she eat something?”

“Yeah,” he said. “She’s also been pecking at everything she’s doing.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Taking the scenery in, Lip walked into the kitchen to find (Y/N) wearing a dirty apron and plates balanced on her arms.

“You’re home,” she smiled, kissing his cheek as she walked past him to give the three boys each a plate. “Good. There’s a plate for you in the microwave. I made some turkey sandwiches for lunch. Light enough to not fill you guys up for dinner but strong enough to tide you over until then.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” the boys chorused before digging into their sandwiches and focusing back on the TV.

“This is so good, (Y/N),” Debbie exclaimed from the breakfast table. “I don’t know how you’re not studying to be a chef.”

“I cook for fun, not for work,” the young woman smiled. “That’s what engineering school is for.”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged. “If the genius stuff doesn’t work out, you could definitely be a chef.”

“Thank you, Debs,” (Y/N) responded. “And speaking of school, how was your last final, babe? I know this semester has been a bit hard.”

Understatement of the century, Lip had thought. He couldn’t understand how he had not been expelled after everything he had done the year before. He had been so close to losing it all. Had it not been for (Y/N) stopping him before he smashed Youens car and speaking up on his behalf at the disciplinary meeting, he was sure he would have gotten a worse punishment than a semester suspension. She had been the saving grace he didn’t know he needed, and she was the reason he understood he needed help.

Lip had inherited more than a hard life from his parents, he’d fallen victim to their addictive genetics and gone off the deep end with a bottle of liquor in hand. But somehow, she had been there to pull him up while he was down and walk beside him as he got back onto the right path. She stayed with him as he rebuilt himself into the man people believed he was.

“I think it went pretty well,” he said before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Won’t know until after the break, but if midterms were anything to go by, I did good.”

“That’s good. I’m pretty sure you did very well,” she smiled as she sat beside him, placing a hand on his and a coffee cup in front of his plate. “And I know you’re tired, but I’m gonna need you to help me prep the table for dinner tonight. Kev, V, and the girls are coming over. Fiona can’t make it, but she’ll try for actual Christmas Day or New Year's.”

“You’ve got everything planned out already, don’t you?” Lip chuckled. “Not that I am surprised in any way, shape or form.”

“I would have told you earlier, but I wanted you to focus on your exams,” she said before turning to the boys in the living room. “Hey, guys! Remember to wash your dishes when you’re done! I’m gonna need them for tonight.”

“Yes, (Y/N),” they chorused back.

“You got them very well trained,” Debbie laughed. “Where have you been all our lives?”

“Just on the other side of town,” the girl smiled. “Now hurry and finish eating. We’ve got work to do.”

After everyone finished their lunch and the how was suddenly dispersed of children, (Y/N) and Lip set off to work. While she waltzed around the kitchen, he rearranged the formal dining area to fit all the guests. As he walked around the house, the young man wanted to laugh. He remembered a time when that type of domesticity would have sent him running, searching for the easiest way to drown his fears of commitment and stability. But there he was, setting tables for a dinner party that his girlfriend had cooked, and he didn’t feel the jittery need to escape. He didn’t feel the anxious desire to feel alcohol burn its way down his throat and fill him with a mirage of confidence. He wanted to stay.

“Hey,” he whispered after he had finished his task, snaking his arms around her waist and kissing her cheeks. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Of course,” she smiled, leaning into the comfort and warmth of his touch. “Do you think there’s enough food I don’t know if I should set out some snacks for the kids while the turkey is finished. Maybe dinner is too late for Jemma and Amy. I should set some snacks out.”

“(Y/N), baby,” he chuckled. Lip flipped her around, kissing her lips softly to stop her rambling. “There’s enough food, and they should be starving by dinner. You worked hard enough on all these dishes, they need to be eaten.”

“And they will, but…”

“You really enjoy mommying them, don’t you?” Lip grinned lovingly. “You know they’re not kids anymore –other than Liam. The other ones are all teenagers, they know how to get food when they’re hungry.”

“I know that. But I just wanna make sure they know there’s someone here that cares about them other than you now that Fiona’s gone,” she admitted, her eyes falling onto the hands she pressed to his chest. “And I want them to like me, Lip. I’m in it for the long run, babe.”

“If there’s one thing I can assure you, it’s that the Gallagher family loves you,” he smiled. His hand caressed her cheek softly, and it surprised him that only a year before, his knuckles would have been ripped and bloodied. But not with her. Never with her. “And if you keep cooking like this for them, they’ll make sure you’re here forever.”

“And what about you? Would you want me to stay forever?”

Lip couldn’t help the smile that spread across his mouth. As he stared into her eyes, it took everything inside him not to spoil the plans he had for Christmas morning. He wanted to give her all the reassurance she could need with the ring he had hidden deep in his underwear drawer. But when he had a plan, it was hard to divert from it. “How could I want anything else?” he grinned. “Now, why don’t we finish up here so we can have a little treat before dinner ourselves?”

“Philip Gallagher,” she exclaimed at his advance, slapping his chest playfully. “I have too much work to do to be thinking about that.”

“Come on, I’ve only been thinking about this all day,” he groaned. “It’s the only thing that got me through that test.”

“Then you can wait a bit more,” she laughed. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while, baby. All good things come to those who wait.”

And, at that moment, she had no idea how much truth there was in that statement.

Next ->

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hygienic-soap-dispenser · 7 months ago

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HWS Nordics as DnD Characters - Part 1

So uuh I've been thinking about the best boys as DnD characters for a while now soooo I drew them and did a character sheet for each of them!! (Den and Swe will be coming in part 2 pinky promise 🙏)

Part 2 (Den, Swe)

For simplicity, I started them off on Level 1, hence no subclasses here. Also, there are def some things I need to work around, especially with the whole DnD Beyond thing, but I still hope y'all get the vibe I'm going for with these

✨ Their backstories, subclasses, and combat styles can be found under the cut ✨

Norway

Race: High Elf Class: Druid Subclass: Circle of the Land Background: Outlander

Having lived a good portion of his childhood among the fjords, mountains, and trolls, Nor has always had a deep connection with the land around him. His friends would help him survive, connect to the land, and learn to harness the power within it. He let it power and inspire him throughout his life. When Nor was part of his unions, he would often escape to the land to feel connected to himself again, and this is where he drew his power and magic which he still uses today. He is a free spirit within his land, and he will never let anyone take that away from him again.

In combat, Nor mainly focuses on spells and has a preference for ice magic and thorns, and he is excellent at taking advantage of the terrain around him. He is also one of the designated healers for the Nordics, along with Swe. At close range can fight with clubs, maces, light swords, or axes.

Finland

Race: Half-Wood Elf Class: Ranger and Rogue multiclass Subclasses: Gloomstalker / Assassin Background: Soldier

Fin has trained most of his life to be a warrior. Since his earliest days, he was tasked to defend the land and prevent any would-be invaders; it was his duty. But how could he with neighbours like these? He is small, and they are big, they are strong, and he is weak... but he is persistent. He will not let them win. For you see, Fin has some advantages: he is nimble and he lives in a land shrouded in forests and bogs. Thus, Fin became something else: not the strongest or the fastest or mightiest defender, but the most efficient, using his stealth and quick thinking to get any advantage he can.

In combat, Fin is focused on archery but is flexible and can jump into the front with dual-wielding weapons when needed. Is effective at any range: physically strong but even more nimble. He hides in the dark, ever watchful, striking at his enemies. He often forgets to cast Hunter's Mark.

Iceland

Race: Half-High Elf Class: Sorcerer Subclass: Storm Sorcerer Background: Hermit

Raised on a lonely island far from those he loves, surrounded by the raging oceans crashing upon his shores, the wind and rain shaping the docking and crashing of ships to his land, Ice has always been familiar with the winds and tides. Some even say that he came to being during a mighty storm, giving power to the tempest within that powers his natural abilities. Now, with his mastery over his inner storm, he tries to use his powers to safely guide ships, change the winds, and maybe even see more of the family and friends he longs to hold close.

In combat, Ice focused on lighting and ice spells, and still has some trouble controlling his fire-based spellcasting, but is working on it. Fights at a distance and can use Flight to maneuver around the battlefield for the best advantage. God help you if he attacks you from above.

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shutupheathersorryheatherr · 7 months ago

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"Bakery ownerKai! Smutty hcs:"

✰---Summary: you pass this new bakery so often. and from what you can tell from just through the windows, it's full of cheer and life. whoever uses it makes the most of the small space. their personality really shines through in the decorations and the desserts looked good and well... you couldn't deny that the baker with the apron and the broad shoulders looked good in there as well. so you decide to stop in. but this is only the beginning: now he smiles when he thinks of you and your cute interaction together, hoping you'd come back and then soon enough... you do.

✰--- approx: 20 min read

✰---A/n: idk if these are considered hcs anymore lol here's a fic to hopefully tide over y'all while I finish up on that much much longer one for Vernon. may or may not turn this into a full fic OR just another hc post. probably the second because of the Vernon fic coming out perhaps in two chapters. andI feel as if this would just be better in "hc " format. (Maybe some header images coming soon idk) trying to make my fics prettier do y'all like the life stars?

✰---warningz/info: cursing I think, lots of talk of eating and desserts, smutty, Kai jerks off, I have a little brake telling you where the NSFW starts, reader has boobs but otherwise is gn I think. and that’s about it.

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

if you don’t have an age indicator saying you’re not a minor in your blog then I will be blocking you! So minors dni!!

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Bakery owner!Kai who whips his head around spilling chocolate on the floor when he hears your voice for the first time. He has just opened the shop, it was a hole in the wall and cutesy— plushies and Pokémon character figurines on the shelves, stuff like that. You saw it then you saw him. With his powdered sugar dusted apron from the doughnuts this morning. And in this moment he realizes how very, extremely, dank he looks right now. His eye bags are dragging down his face like circles of hell, he hadnt had time to do much anything about it this morning. His hair isn’t really done. He had slept through his first alarm (something he hasn’t done is forever) and had to get here, to make the stupid doughnuts early because well, he’s the only worker here. Ugh why did I have to conserve on money this way? He thought to himself. The bowl clatters with a reverberating and embarrassing clang. He cringes, quickly going to pick it up as you greet him so so so cutely he thinks his heart will explode.

Bakery owner!Kai who’s blush on his cheeks looks so adorable to you you have half a mind to tell him. You’d Been passing this shop for days but you’d finally gotten a chance to go in this morning. He’d never know, but you’d looked into your phones selfie camera to fix your appearance one last time before going in after taking a deep breath. And you smile at the way he endearingly shares the story of how he got the shop with you.

Bakery owner!Kai who somehow feels so comfortable with you quickly when you ask about the weird names for all his desserts. He says it’s a long story and you tell him you’ve got all the time in the world for it. And he smiles wide and your knees go weak. And then because of the air of the shop you carried in with you when you set foot into the place or vibe you give off he doesn’t know but he just blabbers on and on about why he named the desserts what he did

◆◆◆◆◆nsfw under the cut◆◆◆◆◆

Bakery owner!Kai who hopes and prays that you’ll be back. and that night he can’t get you out of his head. oh no.... he really can't. and he almost feels bad when the thought of you and your sweet as sugar smile is being tossed around in his mind, making his stomach do flips as his weeping cock is dripping onto his fist. and he just can't.... stop. not that he wants to. hes pretty sure your imagine is burned in his mind till the day he dies... ok, maybe a little over exaggerated but you get the point. but now he can't think. his mind his clouded with how he should've invested in more business cards. so he could've given you one and maybe suavely told you to call him if you ever had a sugar emergency

ok... that was a little cheesy so maybe not. but who the hell knows, maybe you'd like it?! he'd gone over that small interaction you two had that day-- wondering, even though it was all a blur, how he made you feel; comfortable? at ease? oh, he hopes so. even the way he handed the box to you, with a free pastry in there as well, of course, tied with his best, perkiest ribbon all neatly. he wanted to make sure it was perfect for you. even if he never saw you again, even if you both forgot in a weeks time. he wanted to make a good impression while he had the chance.

he even worried about how the pastry tasted. though, he was confident in his skills with his passion he couldn't help but think about it all the rest of that day. which... when he though about it... seemed lonely without you in his shop. was it a good texture? flavors balanced enough? not the slightest hint of staleness? he made sure to grab one from the back of the display counter to make sure.

"you must really wanna see them again?" his friend joked "youre in looooveeee"

Bakery ownerKai! who, when he says that, rolls his eyes at Beomgyu, the friend with powdered sugar caked on his face thicker than he could grow his own beard to be. who was sitting at his table, getting crumbs all over it with the weird way he was sitting.... with his feet... all over the booth. Not even with shoes on! just bare feet. which kai honestly didnt mind much. he lets his friends eat here when hes closing up and nobody's around all the time. they'll usually clean out the couple things here and there that didnt sell and would've been thrown away anyways.

so when he drops his broomstick, almost shrieking, whisper yelling at Beomgyu to get his feet off the furniture, his friend at question is a little bit confused but does it anyway.

Baker ownerKai! who's nonchalant and laughing at his friends comment shaking his head and thinking to himself: no no, thats not true. pfff this guy is outta his mind! that was... until he saw you walk in again. "hello! I know you're closing in like--" you check your phone, "five minutes. but would you mind? that dessert I got a bit back was so good I had to literally run here from work to get the same one." he nods, smiling. and Beomgyu sits up straight in his seat at the way you two are just sitting there.... looking at each other for just a little too long. Kai swiftly drops down to pick up the broom he had dropped before leading you to the counter.

"sorry about that. I was just setting up traps for any burglars, but I trust you'll pay right?" he chuckles and you laugh along with him. "if I didnt pay then id never be able to have any more of this delicious delicacy, am I right?" you joke back. he nodes and keeps up his very much not customer service smile and gets you the dessert he remembers giving you in a box. "aw thank you!" he places the tongs down into the sink "thats really sweet of you! was it that good?" he turns back around to face you, closing up the box and you can't help but stare at the way his hands flex when his nimble fingers are pushing that box closed.

you realize youre taking too long to respond, "no seriously, it was!" you lean excitedly on the counter, bouncing on your heels. "and thats why I had to come back for more., and why I need to pay and leave a generous tip" you chuckle, already counting out the cash for the little doughnut shaped tip jar. "or maybe I could just give it to you for free!" his back is turned, snipping a stand of that pretty expensive ribbon he used especially for yours last time and made sure to move towards the front of the ribbon rack in case you came back so that he'd reach it easily.

"wait? what? no! youre joking right?" he spins back around to you, smirk on his face. "not in the slightest." he chirps. then hands you the box. you stuff your tip in the jar. "no seriously! please, take the money." you weren't worried that he now might think you owe him, he seemed to nice for that. "and im serious too. its like one pastry. you'd be taking it off my hands and doing be a favor actually if you'd like to think of it that way that is. not that is isn't fresh." he shrugged. hes leaning in over the counter a little bit, apron bumping the iPad customers would use to pay. you open your mouth to say something but he stops you "you already tipped me! even if you didnt just take it. my treat."

you didnt know it but in his mind he was already dreaming of having one ready every week for when you came in. maybe a sticky note with his number one day too? "wow thanks so much! thats so sweet of you!" you hold the box closer to you and look down at it.

you also didnt know it, but hes his half hard cock is now pressed up against the cabinet under the counter. and hes trying not to imagine you with powered sugar on your nose... not a very sexual sight in itself he guesses, but something cute none the less and that won't do his situation any good. hes also trying not to think of you licking your fingers after the delicious dessert, or the way youre leaned over the counter even more now, giving him a perfect vantage point of your plush boobs that after accidentally seeing a peak of once he wants to never do so again.

hes mature, or at least needs to be about this. not that he doesn't want to. cause god he really wants to take a sneak peak down. who wouldn't? youre sweet and gorgeous, and funny! but he wants you to know who he really is. so thats why hes currently focusing really hard on your eyebrow and trying so damn hard not to even glance down in that general direction. even if he was doing something entirely different than peaking.... cause thats what gentleman does.

"wait how'd you know my order?"

and now hes back on earth. he scratches the back of his neck. "I uh" "were you hoping id be back?" you smile, obviously meaning it' as a joke. but he just smiles back "bakers memory," he taps his brain, "there a lot up here ya know. gotta remembers recipes and stuff" he takes it as a win cause it was a good distraction. you take it as a win cause he kinda just called you important... right?

you dont pay and see yourself out. as youre opening the door you sniff the box "ugh smells so good! can't wait. thanks again!" and just like that youre gone

Bakery ownerKai! who's friend who is usually such a yapper, is at a loss for words for a second after you leave until he simply says: "I get the feeling you'll be seeing them a lot"

~end~

I’m gonna do a part two/ make this into a full on fic eventually. Just wanted something to post until I finish the bigger fic I’m working on. If you liked it please leave some love like comments or a reblog!

Thanks for reading <3

Taglist: @bamtorin

#hueningkai kai smut #hueningkai smut #huening kai x reader #ghosts writing #txt smut #txt imagines #tomorrow x together #txt hueningkai

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muridae3 · 29 days ago

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Here’s a bit of a different post-

I wrote out some stage and lighting direction for GET IN THE WATER from Epic the Musical: The Vengeance Saga.

I have stage managed 6 shows now, so I’m pretty familiar with how it all goes. Let me know what you all think! <3

NOTE: In this concept, I used the ENSEMBLE as a physical representation of POSIEDON’S powers, as well as the ghosts of the CREW. I also assume that the RAFT is on wheels of some sort. (LIGHTS UP on THE OCEAN. ODYSSEUS stands on his RAFT. RAFT is being spun clockwise and counterclockwise by ENSEMBLE. POSEIDON stands off to the side.) (ENSEMBLE runs back to Poseidon, simulating wave formations.) POSIEDON: There you are, coward I've been waiting for this moment For the perfect time to strike When your home's so close And you've reached your coast That's when our paths collide I've got a reputation (POSIEDON holds out his trident.) I've got a name to uphold So I can't go letting you walk or else the world forgets I'm cold Now get in the water (Lighting darkens to a deep blue.) Get in the water Or I'll raise the tide so high, all of Ithaca will die (ENSEMBLE simulates a tide rising over the side of the RAFT.) Get in the water ODYSSEUS: Wait (ODYSSEUS tries to escape the ENSEMBLE, only to see there is nowhere to go.) POSIEDON: Get in the water ODYSSEUS: Stop this, please POSIEDON: I'll make tidal waves so profound Both your wife and your son will drown (ENSEMBLE continues to try and capture ODYSSEUS.) ODYSSEUS: No POSIEDON: Get in the water Get in the water Don't mistake my threats for bluff You have lived more than enough Get in the water (ENSEMBLE spins raft clockwise.) Get in the water (ENSEMBLE spins raft counterclockwise.) I'll take your son and gouge his eyes That is, unless you choose to die Get in the water ODYSSEUS: Aren't you tired, Poseidon? (Lights grow brighter. ENSEMBLE goes still while ODYSSEUS speaks.) It's been ten years, how long will this go? We're both hurting from losses So why not leave this here and just go home? POSIEDON: I can't ODYSSEUS: Maybe you could learn to forgive POSEIDON: No (Lights fade back to the deep blue.) Ruthlessness is (One half of ENSEMBLE poise to strike.) Mercy upon (The other half of ENSEMBLE poises to strike.) Ourselves (ENSEMBLE crouches.) Die (ENSEMBLE swarms ODYSSEUS, pulling him off the RAFT. RAFT is pushed offstage.) (The ghost of POLITES walks onstage.) POLITES: You can relax my friend I can tell you're getting nervous (POLITES begins pushing the ENSEMBLE away from ODYSSEUS.) Look at all we've lost and all we've learned (ANTICLEA and THE CREW walk onstage and begin pushing away the ENSEMBLE.) (ANTICLEA wrestles the WIND BAG from an ENSEMBLE member and passes it to ODYSSEUS.) ANTICLEA: I'll stay in your heart POLITES, ANTICLEA, THE CREW: Oh, whoa, Odysseus Waiting, waiting, waiting, ah

I hope y'all liked it! Feel free to tell me what you want to see next-- honestly I'd do the whole thing if someone asked aklsfjd;lask

#epic the musical #get in the water #vengance saga #vengence saga #odysseus #posiedon #jorge rivera herrans #epic odysseus #epic the vengeance saga

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sequencefairy · 10 months ago

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Ya know, I was gonna be done. I spent hours yesterday talking friends off ledges when people were harassing them for being excited about the watcher announcement, or when their anxiety ballooned while watching the never-ending fucking tide of absolutely entitled morons kept piling on and on and on and spreading baseless bullshit every where.

But like, I cannot be done.

Because I am just so fucking disappointed. I'm so fucking sad to be sitting here watching people writhe with glee over the reactions to the announcement, and fill their little vengeful mugs in anticipation of watching the fall of a fledgling independent media company they are literally standing around lighting matches to throw onto the pyre.

Y'all make me sick.

You profess to love these guys, to want to see them succeed, to enjoy the stuff they make for you. You beg and demand and scream for more time with Ryan and Shane and bitch constantly during periods of the year when it's not Ghost Files or Puppet History time. You complain to anyone who will listen about how this is a betrayal, as if they're your fuckin' friends who you know personally.

News flash, they're not. They never were. You're parasocially attached to the plush puppet and the guy who sticks his hand up it in a way that is detrimental to your critical thinking skills and you know what? Fucking don't subscribe to the streamer. Who fucking wants you around anyway?

I would bet American cash money that none of you have EVER had to sit with your staff in a meeting and figure out how you were going to keep your company afloat. That none of you have ever had to decide to take a risk like this, in this kind of economic climate and be cautiously excited about what it might mean for you and then to have this absolute viciousness being the response.

I'm really sorry that for some people the price is just out of their reach. I completely understand wanting to join in on something and being unable to because of the money. The amount of times I've had to say no to doing something fun because I just didn't have the cash is not a small amount. It sucks. It really sucks.

But you know, the emotionally mature response to not being able to afford something is to be like, well is there a way that I can save up for this? Something else I can cut out? And if the answer is no, then, unfortunately, sometimes, you just have to be left out. This is a fact of life.

Do you people also get bitchy with artists who charge commission prices that mean they can afford to live?

The comparisons of Watcher to non-network television streamers are laughable. Like, Watcher is absolutely not on the same level of operating profitability as other streaming services. They are an independent production studio that gives a shit about making content that they like to make and taking care of their employees and the other people who are associated with them. And in order for them to continue to make the stuff we like (Ghost Files, Puppet History, et al), we're gonna have to buy-in.

Seeing people say with their full chests that they should just fire people? Are you fucking hearing yourselves? Who should they fire? Their queer employees? The people who write and do sound and edit? The people who make Ghost Files or Puppet History look the way it looks? The people who are the reason the shows work?

And, I'm sorry, but if you think that the solution here is that they should just ... make worse shows, I don't even know what to say to you at all. Sorry that Steven and Ryan and Shane wanna do more than lifeless unsolved copies for the rest of their lives. Go watch fucking unsolved if you want that, watcher has always wanted to do more, do better, make bigger things. And you know what? They are for sure allowed to do that.

I am also utterly enraged by the racism. I cannot even imagine what it's like to be any Watcher employee of colour today, watching the hate and the cruelty roll in. Y'all are just fucking mean, and gross, and I hope you all walk on legos in the dark in bare feet.

Everyone who is acting like this is some fucking personal betrayal needs to go smoke a bowl or do a bong rip and chill the fuck out.

#things jess says #i did not sleep for shit last night #i am exhausted #i am sad #i am disappointed #i am enraged by the racism #by the way that people are out here being their worst selves over six fucking dollars #over some videos they feel entitled to because they were once accessible for free #breaking news but shit costs money #i'm sorry you live in a fantasy land where it doesn't #it must be really nice

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sydsaint · 1 year ago

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Working on a survivor series fic for the trio so have this to tide y'all over until then.

Summary: Adam Pearce enlists the help of the Smackdown GM and her trio of boyfriends to handle Rhea Ripley and The Judgment Day.

You're sitting in your office enjoying lunch while answering a few work emails when someone knocks on the door.

"Come in." You call out, mouth half-full of food. "Adam? I wasn't expecting to see you today, Pearce. Did I miss an email about a meeting or something?" You swallow your food and glance at your laptop.

"No, no meeting." Pearce shakes his head and shuts the door behind him. "I saw you come in early and was hoping that we could chat. If you're not busy, of course." He explains.

You gesture to the empty seat in front of Adam and he takes a seat. You push your laptop off to the side of your desk and turn your attention to your fellow general manager. "I'm just having lunch, nothing important. So, what's up?" You ask him.

"Well, Y/N, if I'm being completely honest with you, I have a favor to ask of you." Pearce gets straight to the point.

"Oh?" You reply, curiosity piqued. "Alright, what can I do for you?" You ask him.

Pearce hesitates for a moment, unsure if he even wants to ask you for help. But he needs it. So he swallows his pride and gets to his point.

"I'm sure that you've been at least keeping up with Raw these past few months since I took over?" Pearce asks you and you nod. "Well, then you must know that Rhea Ripley and the rest of Judgment Day have been causing me grief." He adds.

"Oh yeah, I don't envy you there, Pearce." You tease him lightheartedly. "Kind of makes you miss dealing with Roman's BS, doesn't it?" You laugh.

Pearce lets out a small chuckle and shakes his head. "Not a chance in hell." He smiles at you. "But back to my point. I know that this must sound terribly desperate and in poor taste on my part. But, to be frank? I'm out of options."

"Alright." You nod. "So, what do you need me for?" You urge your colleague to get to the point already.

"Y/N, I'm here to ask if you'd consider helping me in handling Rhea and the rest of Judgement Day," Pearce explains.

Your eyebrows raise a bit in surprise. "Help you how exactly, Adam?" You prompt him.

"Rhea is the main problem that I'm facing, but as a man, there's only so much I can do when it comes to her behavior. But if a woman was to confront her. Specifically one in a position of power equal to my own. Then I believe that I might have a better chance of reigning her in." He explains.

"So essentially you want me to come over to Raw and put Ripley in her place?" You clarify for yourself. "Knock her down a beg so she's not such a pain in the ass for you all the time?"

Pearce nods and confirms your clarification. You study his face and can tell that there's something more that he'd like to ask you.

"Yes, essentially," Adam confirms. "I was also hoping that you might enlist a certain trio to aid with Damian, Finn, Dominik, and JD." He adds suggestively.

"Right." You crack a smile. "Well, you do seem desperate coming to me for help." You tease Pearce with a smile. "So, I'd love to help out, Adam."

Pearce seems slightly surprised by your willingness to help him out. "Really? Thank you, Y/N." He smiles eagerly at you.

"Of course, Adam. What are friends for? Just let me make a quick phone call." You pick up your phone and dial a number. "Hey, yeah I know I'm at work right now. Listen, I need you to come down to my office right now...Yes for work." You roll your eyes. "Mhm, and bring the two stooges with you. Alright, thanks. Mhm, love you too, bye."

You hang up the phone and turn back to Adam waiting patiently for your conversation to continue. "They'll be here soon." You inform him.

"That fast?" Adam replies.

"What can I say?" You giggle. "They're good boys. Always come when called." You joke.

You chat with Pearce for a while and finish up your lunch. Then, around half an hour later, a knock sounds at the door again.

"Come in!" You shout and turn your attention to the door.

"I grabbed Waller and Theory from the gym. So what's up sweetheart? What did you need all three of us for?" Knight walks into the room first and is quick to spot Adam sitting behind the desk with you. "What's Pearce doing here?"

You wait for Grayson and Austin to both file into the room after Knight. Austin shuts the door behind him and the two turn their attention on you before you speak up.

"Thank you for getting here so fast, Shaun, sweetie. And picking up Gray and Austin for me." You thank him with a smile.

"Yeah, no problem, hun." Knight nods. "So, are you going let us in on what you've got going on here?" He asks you.

Austin and Grayson share a small look before they both nod in agreement with Knight. "Yeah, what's he doing here?" Grayson points a finger at Pearce.

"It's a pleasure seeing you all again." Pearce nods to everyone.

"Pearce and I were just having lunch and discussing some business." You begin to explain the situation. "Adam has been having some trouble with Rhea Ripley and the Judgment Day. And he's requested our, or rather, my help. So, you three are coming to Raw this Monday with me. I'm going to handle Rhea, and you three are going to help Pearce with the rest of her entourage." You explain.

Knight, Waller, and Theory all turn to one another and share a few glances before they all turn back to you and Pearce. "What if we're busy on Monday?" Grayson asks.

"You're not." You reply plainly. "I have all three of your work schedules. And I also know your personal plans for the rest of the month." You remind them. "Austin has a mandatory physical next Wednesday. And Shaun has a PR thing on Tuesday. Besides that? The three of you are mine to order around."

"Well, she's got us there." Knight chuckles. "We'd be happy to help out, Y/N, of course." He grins at you.

You nod and turn to Pearce. "Well then, it looks like we've got a deal then, Adam." You reach out to shake his hand. "We can discuss the details of our little arrangement later. But for now, I'll be seeing you on Monday in Kansas City." You shake his hands firmly.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Y/N." Pearce nods. "I look forward to seeing you all on Monday." He adds before he makes his swift exit from your office.

The door clicks shut and the onslaught of questions starts to pour in. "What did he mean by arrangement?" Austin asks you.

"Just a little trade we've got going on. Nothing you three need to worry about." You reply.

"How are you planning on handling Rhea?" Grayson asks you. "I mean, if Pearce can't keep her in line?"

You smile to yourself and laugh a little. "Oh, I've got my ways." You assure Waller. "Rhea won't be a problem for Adam anymore when I'm done with her, trust me."

"Which one of us are you planning on traveling with this time?" Knight asks his own question.

You shrug and glance at your laptop when it pings with a new message. "Probably you so I don't have to share a room with those two again." You tease Grayson and Austin. "They get all possessive when it comes to who gets to share the bed with me." You giggle.

"Now hold on a second." Grayson protests.

"Yeah! We can get along for the night." Austin agrees. "Why don't you travel with us, Y/N?" He whines with Grayson.

You roll your eyes playfully and shake your head. "You two also get up to the most nonsense when you're on the road." You remind them. "And I don't need distractions when I'm trying to work?"

"Oh, so I'm not a distraction now?" Knight chimes in.

"You're plenty distracting, sweetie." You reply. "Just in a different way." You assure him. "Now all of you out! I've got another meeting soon." You usher the trio toward the door.

Austin, Grayson, and Knight all nod and head for the door, knowing better than to interfere with work. "We'll see you later, Y/N." Knight waves before he steps out the door.

"Yeah, take care, babe," Austin adds.

"We'll see you later, gorgeous." Grayson winks at you.

#wrestling #wwe fandom #wwe fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fandom #syd's wrestling fics #grayson waller x reader #grayson waller #austin theory #la knight fanfic #la knight

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justabigassnerd · 1 year ago

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Summer of Love pt. 2

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

Word count - 3,275

Warnings - mentions of medication, injuries

Summary - while in the final stages of recovery after a mission gone wrong, Bradley signs himself up to work at a summer camp just for something to do since Maverick has barred him from Navy work for the time being. meanwhile, you're in between jobs and figure working at a summer camp is some good experience. you meet Bradley and experience a romance you could've never expected (along with some very nosy kids)

Summer of Love masterlist

A/N - ya girl is back from the dead people! (did anyone cheer?) anyways I'm so sorry for the long break and I'm sorry this isn't the most exciting fic to return with like I'm fully aware it's mostly filler but I hope it can tide y'all over. if you guys have any ideas of what you'd like to see in the series you're more than welcome to let me know. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

With counsellor orientation now in full swing, you were spending a lot of your time getting used to the schedule of working at a summer camp. Early starts were no problem to you and neither was making lesson plans but getting used to the camp and the people you worked with was something you had to settle into. Thankfully, working alongside Bradley meant you already knew one person you’d be around a lot and he helped you feel a lot more confident when you met the other counsellors who’d be teaching field sports. You and Bradley had also been briefed on hikes that you’d be leading and you were able to map out appropriate trails for the hikes.

After a long day of going through lesson plans, running potential drills you could do during activities, and taking your swim test in case you wanted to go in the lake at any point, you were just about ready to collapse. You entered the staff lounge and flopped face down on the sofa with a dramatic groan, hearing the laughs of your friends you entered the room with after dinner.

“Tired?” Ella jokes, easing herself down on the other sofa as you turn your head to look at her.

“Just a little.” You reply with a laugh, flipping yourself onto your side as you greet other staff members who enter, moving to sit upright so people can sit on the sofa with you.

Bradley is among the last people to enter the room and by that point, both sofas are almost packed but upon spotting him, Freddy moves over on the sofa, leaving just enough space for Bradley to squeeze in between you and him.

“Hey, Bradley. There’s a space right here.” He points out, hand patting the free space with a grin as you fight the urge to roll your eyes. You knew Ella had already caught on to your schoolyard crush on Bradley, and you were sure she’d told Bradley’s friends too and that’s why they spent so much time trying to force you two to sit near each other when they could. You knew the chances of Bradley feeling the same towards you were slim so you were more than content to sit within the comforts of your friendship knowing after camp ends you’d go your separate ways and never talk to each other again. You just wanted to enjoy the time you had getting to be his friend without your friends forcing you close and potentially making Bradley uncomfortable.

“Is this okay?” Bradley’s voice shakes you from your thoughts as he eases into the gap between you and Freddy. You nod with a small smile, fighting back the flame you felt building behind your cheeks as Bradley’s leg brushed up against yours. The group of you continued to chat until the sun started to set and one by one people began to retire to their cabins for the night and you and Bradley were among the last to leave the staff lodge and took a moment between the two of you as you stepped out onto the grass and took in the night sky.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of the sky at night.” You mumble, more so to yourself than to Bradley but seeing him look at you out of the corner of your eye gave away the fact that he had heard you.

“I wish I could show you how beautiful a night at the beach is where I live.” Bradley murmurs in response, his soft voice unknowingly fanning the flames that lit beneath your cheeks. You were sure he was just saying that to make conversation.

“I’ll just have to trust you on that one.” You say with a slight chuckle, glancing over at Bradley and locking eyes with him, bringing a small smile to your face as you do.

“That you will. Maybe I’ll send you a picture or something once I’m back home.” Bradley says, his smile mirroring yours. A silence falls over the two of you and you glance over your shoulder, breaking the eye contact for but a brief second to consider your next move.

“I should probably head back to my cabin to get some sleep.” You say, silently hating how awkward you sounded.

“I should probably do the same. We can’t exhaust ourselves before the kids have even arrived.” Bradley then says, watching as you bid him goodnight quietly before turning around and heading in the direction of your cabin.

“y/n, wait!” You stop in your tracks at Bradley’s voice. Loud enough to get you to stop but not loud enough to disturb anyone nearby. You turned around and waited as Bradley approached you.

“I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to run a couple of soccer drills with me tomorrow. I have some ideas for some warmups but I’m going to need a partner to make sure they work before the kids arrive.” Bradley says, hoping and praying you agreed to help him out. He could’ve asked anyone on the field sports team for help but he wanted you to help him.

“Okay, but you know I’m not the best at soccer so if I mess up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You say, a smile breaking out across yours and Bradley’s faces as he lets out the smallest of relieved sighs at your agreement.

“You’ll be great, I just know it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bradley says, smiling as you nod and wish him a good night before you both retire to your cabins for the night. When you reach your cabin you enter quietly, aware of the people sleeping and quietly get ready for bed before crawling under the covers and falling asleep.

Meanwhile, Bradley entered his cabin and immediately got jumped by his cabin mates who were demanding to know what he said to you.

“You know, I’m going to be so grateful tomorrow when I no longer have to share a cabin with you guys. I swear you give the Daggers a run for their money.” Bradley jokes as he sits down on his bed, rubbing at his eyes.

“We’re just invested now come on! Did you ask her out?” Nathan asks, placing his book down on the bedside table by his bed and giving Bradley his full attention.

“What? No! We’ve only known each other a week. Besides, once we leave camp we’ll probably never speak again. That’s just what happens.” Bradley says with a shrug, leaning back and lying across his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Dude, you can just get her number or something.” Cameron shrugs, confident he has solved all the problems singlehandedly. Bradley couldn’t help but let out a gentle sigh at his words.

“I thought some friends I made in the naval academy were going to be people I kept in contact with but the moment we got our deployments that was it. None of us spoke again.” Bradley says, thinking back to the recruits Bradley had befriended during training and then again at flight school and Top Gun. Outside of the Daggers, Bradley had made no solid connections with any other Navy personnel. He of course appreciated the efforts of his cabin mates, but he was sure their efforts were in vain.

“That doesn’t mean y/n would do that to you. I can tell she likes you.” John then says, a quiet falling over the group as all focus ends up on Bradley.

“Okay, well if you didn’t ask her out. What did you ask her then?” Nathan asks when Bradley doesn’t respond to John’s words.

“I just asked if she wanted to run some soccer drills with me tomorrow to potentially add to lesson plans.” Bradley replies, propping himself up on his elbows and glancing around at the group as they all exchange looks.

“And she said yes?” Cameron prompts, the three breaking out into smiles when Bradley nods. They all exchanged a look when Bradley returned his attention to the cabin ceiling. They knew they couldn’t force you or Bradley to admit anything but they could at least nudge you both in the right direction.

“We should probably get some sleep, huh?” John says after a couple of minutes of silence, followed by the agreement of everyone else who quickly get themselves ready for bed and switch off their cabin light to get some sleep.

The next morning, you awoke to your alarm and slowly dragged yourself out of bed to get yourself changed and ready for the day. Once you were dressed, you made your way to the dining hall to grab breakfast, located your cabin mates sat at a table and joined them once you had your food. As you ate, Kerry stood at the front of the room and addressed everyone, letting you know that the first port of call for the day was to find out your cabins for the summer and to move your stuff into your new cabin before creating a poster to hang up on the outside of the cabin to make the kids feel a bit more welcomed and to give their cabin a sense of community straight out of the gate before you’d spend the rest of the afternoon after lunch finishing up your last few chances to prepare lessons for when the kids arrive. After you all finished breakfast, you were dismissed and each grabbed an envelope with your name on it to find out which cabin you’d be in for the duration of camp and once you got out of the dining hall you opened your envelope and flipped the postcard over, studying the writing on it.

“Hey, y/n, what cabin did you get?” Ella asks, sidling up alongside you with her own postcard in hand.

“Cabin eleven. What about you?” You reply, tearing your eyes away from your postcard to look at Ella.

“I’m in cabin five with Alex as my co-counsellor. I’m so excited!” Ella says happily, embracing you excitedly before rushing off to find her co-counsellor. You watched her leave before focusing your attention back on your own postcard. You knew cabin eleven would be a cabin of four girls so you wouldn’t have a co-counsellor but you were okay with that. You were just excited for camp to start properly. When you notice some of the other female counsellors beginning to make their way back to their cabins to move their belongings to their new cabins you begin to follow the crowd, chatting with some of them as you go.

Meanwhile, Bradley had just finished telling his friends about what cabin he was going to be in and turned around in search of you. His smile faltered when he couldn’t find you and instead saw the back of you as you disappeared down the girl's cabin line. He wanted to go and talk to you about your new cabin placement but he also knew he needed to worry about moving all his stuff to the new cabin. He spared you one last glance before turning around and heading in the direction of the boy's line of cabins.

After moving all of your belongings from cabin six to cabin eleven, making your bed and tidying your bags away after putting some of your belongings on the bedside table such as your alarm clock, hairbrush, a book to read, and your notebook filled with lesson plans. After sorting yourself out, you headed over to the arts and crafts room to join everyone in making posters and chore wheels for the cabins. There weren’t many people present when you first arrived but as you began to work on your poster more people slowly trickled in. Kerry had gone around and given everyone a list of names of the kids in your cabins so you could learn their names before they arrived and put them on the chore wheel and poster. You got to work, creating a poster and chore wheel for your cabin. As you finished the poster and moved on to the chore wheel, carefully writing out each chore, a sheet of paper appeared in your peripheral vision and you glanced over to see Bradley easing himself down next to you, and you didn’t miss the way he winced a little as he sat down.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, not wanting to draw attention to Bradley potentially being in any pain if he didn’t want you to.

“I’m good, must’ve pulled something in my back moving all my gear. I had a feeling I packed too much.” Bradley says with a chuckle, trying to ease your mind so you didn’t worry about him and trying his best to ignore the way the lie tugged at his heart.

“Maybe take some painkillers later if it’s still sore.” You say sympathetically, briefly averting your gaze back to the task at hand as you write a name on the wheel before returning your attention to Bradley who nods minutely.

“I’ll see how I feel later.” Bradley says with a slight shrug, not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer than he needs to. You nod silently and the two of you remain in the comfortable silence between you as you work on your posters and chore wheels.

“You know… I’m not sure how much a cabin of four thirteen-year-old boys will appreciate a poster on the outside of the cabin, let alone a chore wheel.” Bradley mutters, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as you let out a small giggle at his words.

“I don’t think my cabin of twelve-year-old girls will appreciate it much either but you gotta do what you gotta do. Besides you might win cool points with your naval aviator career. I’m sure they’d love hearing some of your stories.” You say, shrugging lightly as you put your pen down, satisfied with both your poster and your chore wheel. You stay put for a few more minutes, continuing to chat with Bradley until his friends come over and you excuse yourself so you can go and put the poster and chore wheel where they needed to be.

“I’ll see you at lunch.” You say as you grab your things and address the group, but mostly aiming your words at Bradley as you smile softly.

“See you at lunch.” Bradley echoes, his smile matching yours as you then turn to head to your cabin to put the items in their respective places before heading to the dining room where they are just beginning to serve lunch. You grab yourself a plate and dish up the food in front of you before grabbing a seat at one of the nearby tables, and slowly but surely your friends arrive and sit with you. Ella arrived first with Alex, having had the ability to split the task between two people, and then Bradley and Freddy came up next and spotted the three of you, quickly grabbing their food and joining you at the table with smiles.

“All done with setting up your cabins?” Alex asks after finishing a mouthful of food.

“Just about. It’s starting to feel like a real summer camp now.” Freddy says with a laugh.

“Was the fact that we’re in the middle of the woods with a lake nearby not enough of a hint?” Bradley jokes, making everyone laugh. When you all finish lunch, you clean up and then head outside to enjoy the rest of your afternoon.

“Hey, y/n, let’s grab a soccer ball so I can run that drill with you.” Bradley says and you nod, following him to the equipment cupboard and waiting for him to grab a ball before heading to the field to practice it. Bradley talks you through what he wants to try, making sure his instructions are clear and taking any advice you have to offer to make it clearer for when he teaches it to the children. Once you have been briefed on what the drill would entail you start the activity. After gaining some confidence, you’re able to tackle the ball off of Bradley a couple of times but when you decided to attempt a shot on goal just for a bit of fun you somehow missed the ball entirely and ended up sprawled on your back on the floor staring up at the sky.

“y/n! Are you okay?” Bradley’s face suddenly appears above you, his worried expression soon becoming a look of amusement when he realises that you’re laughing at the whole thing.

“Trust me to fall over literally nothing.” You laugh as you begin to sit up, stopping when Bradley offers a hand to you which you accept with a smile, allowing him to haul you to your feet but your smile faltered when he winced once more.

“Bradley, are you okay?” You ask, now even more concerned at him being in pain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My shoulder’s acting up again.” Bradley says, making you fight the urge to speak up. He’d claimed his back had a pulled muscle earlier and now it was his shoulder? You were confused at his contradiction but you weren’t going to call him out on it. The most you could do is keep an eye on him.

“Just… take some painkillers. It’ll really help.” You say softly, picking up the soccer ball and walking with Bradley over to the equipment shed to return the ball.

“I will.” Bradley replies. Hating himself even more for lying but the lingering pain from his accident was manageable, he had just wrongly assumed that missing one day of his prescribed medicine would be okay since the pain hadn’t been bad recently, even with the activities he was partaking in.

“Maybe we should spend the rest of the afternoon going over our hike plans, just to make sure we have them sorted.” You offer, wanting Bradley to relax a little and not overexert himself. You may not know the cause of his pain or even where it lies but you did know you wanted to help your friend however you could.

“That sounds like a plan. Let’s grab our notebooks and meet on that bench just by the dining hall.” Bradley says and you nod before parting ways to return to your cabins to grab your notebook before heading to the bench and meeting Bradley. The two of you spend time comparing notes and revising anything that needs a second look at before it comes time for dinner and the two of you make your way up into the dining hall and have dinner, still discussing ideas before your friends join you.

When you all finish dinner you exit the dining hall and instead of heading to the staff lounge like you usually did in your evenings, you decide to head back to your cabin to prepare yourself for when the children arrive tomorrow afternoon. You bid your friend's goodnight and head back along the path that leads you to your cabin and enter the small building, flipping the light on as you do so. You decide to get a headstart on getting ready for bed and so go for a shower and change into your pyjamas before returning to your cabin, lying on your bed and reading your book as the sun finally sets. When a wave of tiredness overcomes you, you decide to close your book, set your alarm, and hit the hay, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to fall asleep both excited and nervous for the chaos that is to come tomorrow.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@noz4a2 @kim-stark @jessicab1991 @myxticmoon @burningwitchprincess @casuallyeating @adoringanakin @iamabeautifulperson18

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #summer of love #summer of love universe #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw

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jennelikejennay · 5 months ago

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Philon Awards nominations close in three days!

I have no idea how many people are even submitting nominations for these, but anybody can, and since a work only needs (I think) three nominations to make the shortlist, it's a chance to get fics you loved in front of more people. Here are the details.

I got mine in today and really struggled, to be honest. There has been a LOT of good k/s fic in the past year and I have read SO MUCH of it. So instead of telling y'all which ones I nominated, I'm going to share my whole shortlist...in the hopes that some of you nominate the ones I couldn't!

For the short (under 10k) fic category:

And Filled With Tomorrows, by AndroidAndAle: just a soft and sweet City on the Edge of Tomorrow fic.

Gonna Show Her Life on Earth Can Be Sweet, by thembonesthembones: very smutty with weird biology. You know me. Sweet Talk, by CampySpaceSlime: the invention of infodumping kink. Deny, Deny, Deny by Maelstrom: Spock pretends he doesn't like sex and Jim has to make him admit it Beyond repair, by spirkme: just them comforting each other after an away mission gone wrong leaves them both traumatized

I'm a big name in deep space (ask your mates) by cicak: this starts off the amazing series Where One Man Has Gone Before. I would rec them all, but probably easiest to start at the beginning.

Long fic (10k-50k)

When in Paradise, by flipthebits: infiltrating a cult has never been so accurate

Wanna be the one that you wanna see, by Affixjoy: sex pollen over and over again till they figure things out

Bells on a Hill, by flippyspoon: maybe the sweetest pon farr fic ever?

Way From Within, by gunstreet: the SNW timeloop story

Please don't take him just because you can, by spaceisgay: why yes it IS based on Jolene, and it's full of telepathy

Novel length (50k+)

I Shall Do Neither, by OnWhatCaptain: do you like crying? this story will torture you but it's so so good

Bodyguard by BurningAmber: an AU where Spock is Jim's bodyguard and there's a big telepathic cat thing

Anodyne by Lizzie0305: a really long and hot pon farr fic

Of Trees and Telepathy by StupidCat: weird aliens and telepathic trees, what's not to like Regulatory Relations by indeedcaptain: Kirk and Spock get married for convenience. Next thing you know things are getting incredibly deep and heavy.

Quell the Cosmic Tides, by Plus3Charisma: at the end of the second AOS movie, Jim suddenly travels back in time to his first day at the Academy. He's driven to do better this time around. Self Recs:

Here are a few I wrote in the past year that are eligible.

Short fic

The Sight of a Touch, or the Scent of a Sound: the "telepathy is like synesthesia" fic

Medium length

Another of Devotion's Casualties: probably my favorite fic I ever wrote; an examination of warrior bonds and devotion

Novel length

Personally I would recommend The Recitation of Names, which is a prequel to the TOS episode Obsession.

But a lot of people told me they liked The Exiles better, which is where I took the 2009 movie and made it so much worse. People find it emotionally cathartic and uplifting though? Whether you nominate or not, hopefully this provides some good reading for a while!

#spirk #fanfic #fanfic recs #philon awards #k/s #the premise

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garrettandoscargirlsblog · 3 months ago

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Here's the preview of the next chapter of My Man. Hope it tides y'all over till I finish it .

Chilly, Fall hits Oklahoma. Finally. Chance to wear hoodies, flannel shirts especially my cowboy’s On this particular morning sitting on the porch enjoying my cup of soothing tea. Ginger with a touch lemon. Adjusting my messy bed hair out of my face to see a familiar face before me. My Mitch. Wearing his usual pj's messy hair as well. Poor thing, still tired. Oh I know this latest situation has caused us to be on our guard. Noticed him watching me closely,and I'm so grateful for that since I'm too on edge. Too scared for what might happen in the long run. Never been like this since the horrible day in Texas. Reason for leaving to start over. Told myself never to be that. Mitch leans against the railing looking into my eyes seeing that I need him. As much as he needs me. Looking into his beautiful blue eyes,” I know what you are thinking baby. Scared any of those thugs might…” He rushed over to hold me close,” I know sugar.. Shh… Can't risk any like what happened to Jimmy, to see ya knocked out . Shit?! Armand is gonna pay!”

Yesterday;

After that meeting with Tyson. Which made us even more cautious. While doing my usual duties at the bar. Bigfoot cleared his throat,” Have a visitor. Says he is your brother?if he isn't? I'll kick his ass.” Laughed as I go outside,” Thanks big guy. Mitch would be glad ya did that.” Opening the door to see my big brother in his regular Henley shirt,jeans,and boots. Arms crossed,” Nice security darlin. Reason for the visit. Was wondering if you were available to spend the day with me? Haven't got the chance to hang out with my baby sister on this trip. Think your boss can spare his girlfriend ?” Kissed his cheek as I walked towards the door,” Oh he will . If not? I'll have to persuade him in my own way. “ He rolled his eyes,” Hay! I rather not know how you would do that. Besides, you're worse than Benny. Speaking of him. Gonna call to see how he's doing.”

Mitch was worried at first. Telling me to be safe. Hugs me again,” Have fun. Ya need it. Text me if ya see anythin out of the ordinary. Anything at all. I'll do the same. Now get “ Spanks me as I head out. Winked at him,” Naughty cowboy. That's what you are. Want ya to be safe too. Love you.” Mitch inched over to kiss me deeply,” love you too my little breeze. With all of my heart. On the way back? Can you stop by our favorite bakery? Can go somethin sweet ya know? Cake we shared on our first official date?” Lingered we bit longer till sound of Will clearing his throat,” Ahem? Can we get goin? Tummy is grumblin.” Mitch cleared his throat,” Say? How about staying here ? Bout to make breakfast. Besides others would love to meet the others. Also.. can tell some stories about my baby here?”

Glad Mitch did that. Sounds of laughter is what the bar needed right now. Me? Wanna kill him,but I just listen. Forgot how well he tells stories. Watching made me smile. Heard Goodie,” She shot a dude in the hand!Really! We better not be near her then!!” Har har! Slug Will’s shoulder,” it was an accident! Was a BB gun. Benny was cleaning it. Walked by and pulled the trigger. Didn't know there was BBs in the chamber. Benny had to get it out of his hand. Least it didn't affect his shooting,and fighting.” After a few more stories. We left. First stop? Margaret’s

@dameronscopilot @musings-of-a-rose @romanarose @laurfilijames @marmie-noir

#tulsa king #mitch keller x reader #garret hedlund #inside Mitch's Mind

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karatekels · 11 months ago

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TIGmas Day #10 - Guided Meditation

Sorry for the delay, y'all! My current goal is to finish meditation and have the last 2 TIGmas posts up by the 25th (y'know, three months late!). I hope that @eemcintyre's request tides you all over - I certainly had fun with it!

Summary: [CK Terry Silver] Terry is fed up with your attitude lately, and decides to help you learn how to channel your pent up frustrations through more enjoyable pursuits... for him, anyway.

TW: ddlg (without the age-play); sexual spanking; rough oral sex (male receiving); cumplay; sexual punishment; oral sex (female receiving); aftercare

[I'm back, baby!]

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Guided Meditation

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Terry’s POV:

He can tell by the way the front door slams shut that you have not had a good day.

Bad days had been happening more often than not over the past few weeks, and your normal, upbeat demeanor had been gradually replaced by a state of quiet (and occasionally not-so-quiet) irritability. You had been growing more distant this week in particular, brushing off both his attempts to cheer you up and his requests for an explanation as to what has you so upset.

He thinks he’s had just about enough of that.

Terry Silver had not yet come across a challenge or a problem he hadn’t been able to overcome by one means or another, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now. He’ll have an explanation out of you by the end of the day, so that he can set about resolving the problem tomorrow.

You come into the main living room, your eyes flicking over to him for the briefest of moments before pointedly looking away, setting down your bag on the couch furthest away from his perch on the piano bench.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he says, trying his best not to sound patronizing. You make a non-committal noise in response, moving to the small bar in the corner to grab a glass of water.

“Come, sit with me. Tell me about your day,” he requests in a soft, soothing voice. He doubted he’d catch more flies with honey than with vinegar with you in your current state, but perhaps he’ll be pleasantly surprised.

“It was fine.”

You don’t elaborate, and he bites back a sigh. He can’t afford to let his exasperation overtake his concern for you.

“The chef hasn’t quite finished preparing dinner yet, so why don’t w–”

“Actually, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m just going to take a shower and then go to bed,” you cut him off abruptly, something you never do, and it briefly takes him by surprise.

“Y/N,” he says your name sternly, an undercurrent of warning clear in his tone. Your eyes don’t blink as you drink your water, staring him down all the while, but he does detect a twinge of regret in your beautiful orbs. Your gaze drops down to the flat surface of the bar along with your now-empty glass; you’re unable to look at him.

“Look, Terry, I just really want to be alone right now, okay? I don’t want to talk.”

“You have to eat something at least,” he requests, the pleading tone more out of politeness than a real need to negotiate with you. He’ll hold you down and forcefeed you if it comes down to it. You haven’t been eating enough lately, and it’s starting to show.

You pointedly ignore him, stalking past him and out of the room, heading upstairs without another word.

Well, now you’re just acting like a little brat.

Those he knows how to handle.

He calmly makes his way to the kitchen to have a word with the chef, asking for dinner to be packed away once it’s ready, then catches the head housekeeper while on his way to the stairs, asking them to tell the rest of the staff to enjoy a paid night off, effective now. His tone and expression leave no room for argument, and he idly watches his staff scatter with some degree of satisfaction as he contemplates the best course of action.

The two of you had done some very minor experimenting with kinks in the past, and it was clear from those experiences that you enjoyed him dominating you. Outside of the bedroom, you always wanted him to take the lead, even going so far as to order for you on occasion, but sexually… it has always been clear and consensual. You’ve quite literally begged him for it before, and he had always been more than willing to oblige; perhaps your little outbursts and bouts of giving him the silent treatment were you indirectly asking for more of the same.

He’s willing to bet that having control taken away from you entirely – mind and body – would help you find the emotional release that you are clearly in need of.

Smirking to himself, he saunters upstairs and into your bedroom, locking the door not only with the standard lock on the knob to keep anyone out, but with a key that prevented anyone from leaving the room. Chuckling to himself, he places the key on the very top of one of the bookshelves and well out of your reach. Now you have nowhere to run.

Hearing the shower still running in the ensuite, he takes his time slowly removing his watch and his rings and placing them in a small dish on his bedside table, safely out of the way. Humming to himself, he gathers his hair up, tying it back in a ponytail, finishing off the look by neatly rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. There, now nothing will get in the way of him giving you exactly what you need.

He hears the shower turn off and sits patiently at the foot of the bed, utterly still as he waits for you to emerge from the bathroom. Several long minutes later, you do, wrapped in a towel with your hair still damp. He watches your eyes pointedly skim past him on the bed, and decides to set his plan in motion without further ado.

“Come here,” he says in a firm but soft voice, staring at you with a stern, unblinking expression. Your eyes narrow in response as you stare each other down for a long moment before you break first, marching past where he is perched on your bed with your nose in the air and into the closet; he mentally considers it a first infraction, and resolves to keep count. Saying nothing, he allows you to get dressed – you’ll be out of your clothes the instant he wants you to be, and having something to strip off of you would only add to your humiliation.

When you step out of the walk-in-closet you are dressed far too warmly for the warm Los Angeles summer – regardless of the effectiveness of his home’s A/C – like you’re trying to prove a point.

“Come here, Y/N,” he commands, repeating the order, and you roll your eyes at him before brushing past him once again to the bedroom door. That’s two steps out of line so far.

He takes no small degree of pleasure watching your spine straighten as you realized that you’re locked in, your small hand twisting and turning the doorknob to no avail. After a brief struggle, you whirl around, your expression furious.

“What the fuck, Terry?!” you snarl at him, and now he’s perversely looking forward to breaking you. Three.

“Watch your mouth.”

You balk at his harsh tone, taking a reflexive step back and looking genuinely shocked at being scolded like a child, but immediately afterwards you get your hackles back up as if realizing your skittish response and not liking it.

“What?” you snap, putting up an irritated front, but he can see right through you; he always can. “What do you want?!”

He raises an eyebrow, tsking before deciding to chide you further.

“My precious girl, I know you’re smarter than that. Do you really need me to tell you three times?”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, an embarrassed flush dusting across your cheeks as he dresses you down. You bite your bottom lip, clearly toying with the idea of saying something likely to get you into further trouble, but ultimately decide against it, slowly closing the distance between you on your shaky legs and only stopping when you are still just out of his easy reach.

Brat.

Remaining unfazed by your attempts to poke the bear as it were, he points to his right leg, bent at the knee. “Sit.”

You glare silently at his limb for a moment, but eventually give in. See? Progress already.

Huffily, you come to sit on his knee, your arms folded and a scowl on that pretty face, but he can feel your anticipation in the tautness of your posture, see it in the way your pupils dilate.

He’ll give you what you need.

Always.

Reader’s POV:

You sit ramrod straight on Terry’s knee, and he makes no move to do or say anything. Something about the strange aura he’s put on since coming up here warns you to not to get up, but you can’t help but fidget in the long stretch of silence. Growing more restless, you uncross your arms and fold your hands in your lap awkwardly, your scowl slowly replaced as your lips purse into a pout.

You feel his large hand at the back of your head, softly caressing your hair, and something about it makes the tension in your body disappear. Deep down you know you’re being difficult on purpose. Work had been stressing you out so much lately, and since you couldn’t blow up at anyone there, you’d been (somewhat unconsciously) trying to goad Terry into fighting with you all this week, just needing some way to release the pent-up frustration that had been building up inside you.

“There’s my sweet girl,” he coos approvingly, his other hand reaching down to squeeze just above your knee. “Now, tell Daddy what’s wrong.”

You shoot up out of his lap in shock, both at his use of ‘Daddy’ and at the way your body responds to the title, a flood of desire flowing through you. His hands come around your waist tightly, firmly putting you back on his lap and keeping you there.

“I told you to sit,” he hisses in a low, gruff voice. “Is there a reason why you can’t seem to do that, or would you like me to give you one?”

A disorienting haze seeps into your mind at the suggestive threat, clouding your judgement and blurring your vision at the edges; you find it hard to swallow.

You find yourself wanting more of it.

“I can see that you’re upset, angel. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” he asks softly, lifting your chin with a finger and forcing you to stare into his piercing blue eyes. You don’t think you could tell him even if you wanted to; you’re not sure you can speak at all like this, flustered and tongue-tied as you are.

Plus, you’re dying to know what refusing him is going to cause him to do.

You shake your head mutely, turning your nose up at him for the second time this evening as you stubbornly deny him what he wants.

You see a glimmer of recognition in Terry’s eyes beneath his façade before he sets his jaw, his grip on your chin tightening. It’s clear now that both of you are aware that this is something of a game, but it’s also evident that it’s somehow something more.

At the very least, it’s distracting you from your stresses at work, and that alone is enough to make you lean into… whatever Terry has up his sleeve.

“That’s five times you’ve disobeyed me since we came in here. What do you have to say for yourself?” he asks, keeping your chin in his firm grip and staring unblinkingly down at you. Terry was always able to make you feel so small…

The lusty haze that you felt coming on returns tenfold, and you fully give into it, longing to just escape the world outside your bedroom for awhile by slipping into this dynamic with Terry. You bite your lip, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes, but say nothing.

“Do I need to take care of that attitude?” he asks, and you’d recognize that dangerous tone in his voice anywhere.

Instead of heeding it, you shrug nonchalantly.

In one fluid motion, he’s got you bent over his other leg, your ass in the air. You let out a surprised shriek, your arms wildly flailing about as you try to grab something to help you straighten yourself out.

“Shhh,” he hushes you, a large hand casually stroking down your spine to the curve of your ass. Somehow, being fully clothed while he has you in this position makes you feel particularly humiliated. You let Terry slowly stroke you into submission until you’re lying limp across his knee.

“Let me take care of you like this, sweetheart,” he coaxes, though you know he’s not really asking for your consent or permission. “Don’t I always give you what you want? What you need?”

“Yes!” you whimper, your eyes shut tight and your face burning with humiliation.

“Yes what?” he presses, using that soft, dangerous voice once more. You swallow thickly, bracing yourself for another hot wash of shame and desire.

“Yes… Daddy.”

You hear him let out a deep, pleased sigh at your show of obedience, and a pleasurable thrill runs through your entire body.

“There’s my good girl. Now unbutton your jeans.”

You start to straighten out, wanting to stand and obey his instructions, but his hand on the small of your back keeps you bent over his knee.

“Did I ask you to stand up?”

“No. I’m sorry, I –” you babble, arching your back up just enough that you can reach a hand between your belly and his thigh and undo your jeans before returning to your limp, compliant position. You had always felt the need to please Terry, both in and outside of the bedroom; he had given you so much during your time together, and you wanted to return the favour at every opportunity.

That, and his praise affected you like nothing else did.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s good. Now the zipper.”

You wriggle once more, tugging it down obediently, and he lets out a hum of approval that you can feel in your core.

“Pull them down.”

You hook your thumbs in your belt loops, tugging your jeans down to just below the curve of your ass; you can’t reach any further, and you hope that you won’t be in trouble for it. You hear Terry inhale sharply through his teeth, and you imagine you must make quite a sight squirming and bent over his knee, ass bared and in the air before him.

“My underwear too?” you ask him, your voice quavering, and he lets out a low, dark chuckle in response that has your eyes rolling back into your head. He grabs the waistband of your underwear between a thumb and a forefinger, toying with the fabric for a moment before slowly pulling it upwards, stretching the fabric between your cheeks and baring you even more to his lecherous gaze. You let out a needy whine at the feeling of the fabric being pulled taut and rubbing against your clit, but stay perfectly still.

“As much as I want to see your pretty cheeks blushing around these pretty panties, I want you bare for me,” he decides after a long moment his voice deep and gravelly. “Take them off.”

You oblige, tugging them down below the curve of your ass and trying not to tremble or tense up.

“Let me help you with that, sweetheart,” he coos, smoothly pushing your clothing down past your knees and allowing you to kick them off.

“There, that’s good. I don’t want anything getting in the way of your punishment.”

You let out a soft cry of need and anticipation. Terry had spanked you in the heat of the moment before, or playfully swatted you when you got mouthy, but had never made it the sole focus of his attentions. You’re not entirely sure what to expect, and you know that he is very aware of that fact and is relishing in it.

His fingers lightly trace patterns along your hips and up to the small of your back where your shirt has hitched up, pointedly not touching your butt, let alone your slick entrance.

“Five acts of disobedience against me,” he breathes, and you can feel the hot, moist breath on your sensitive skin, making you shiver. “I would say that such insubordination is deserving of a spanking for each offense, but I don’t think that would be enough of a punishment for you. So let’s say five minutes instead, hmmm?”

You tense up despite yourself, your anxious whining drowned out by his low chuckle.

"Relax. Breathe. Just let yourself feel,” he instructs.

“Yes, Daddy,” you squeak meekly, fighting everything within you to keep still.

“If you can’t focus, I’ll have you count them out as something to focus on. Understood?”

You nod immediately from your suspended state, and he draws out the silence, intentionally tormenting you, and you barely hear the air whistling as his hand comes down before you feel the stinging pain of his first strike. You yelp, bucking forward, but he holds you down, one hand at the small of your back while the other softly strokes your burning skin.

“Don’t move, babygirl. Take it all for me, I know you can.”

You let out a stuttering breath, bracing yourself once again, and this time he doesn’t make you wait, raining down a quick succession of several slaps across your ass, his large hand nearly covering one of your cheeks every time it comes down. Your toes try to seek purchase on the carpet as you try to keep still, but you find yourself kicking your feet in the air slightly, your shrieks muffled against his leg.

“Just like that, baby… there’s my good girl, keep going just like that,” he croons in your ear during the next brief reprieve, and you groan for all response. “Breathe and take the pain in, sweetheart; don’t try to fight it.”

“Yes Daddy!” you moan desperately, and you’re ‘rewarded’ with a firm squeeze of your ass that has you hissing.

He continues his assault, his strikes seemingly random and unpredictable, taking you right to the edge of how much pain you could take. Somehow, his apparent knowledge of your limits is better than your own, and it takes a previously unnoticed weight off of your shoulders. You’re unable to focus on anything but the pain and pleasure Terry provides, and the anticipation of what might be coming next. It’s a surprising and incredible relief.

In between the staccatos of slapping flesh, Terry groans his approval, clearly enjoying doling out this punishment and watching its effects on your body.

“I can’t stop myself, Y/N. You look so good like this.”

More slaps, now towards your hips as he targets the area he liked to leave finger-shaped bruises from gripping you tightly as he fucks you.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” he pants, and you feel his cock twitching through his pants against your abdomen. “My pretty girl.”

You have no idea how much time has passed, but it feels like an eternity that you’ve been held facedown and made to endure your humiliating punishment. The air stings your sensitive, inflamed flesh, and you imagine that it’s hot to the touch from Terry’s thorough attentions.

"You're doing so well, Princess," he purrs approvingly. “Taking everything I give you.”

He gives your stinging bottom a break, moving his hand down to the tops of your thighs, spreading his harsh, red claim further along your body until you’re sobbing incoherently. You find yourself pressing your face into the blankets dangling off the bed, desperate to stifle your cries with something, but Terry’s free hand moves to your hair, tightening his grip on a fistful of your still-damp curls.

“Face up. I want to hear you.”

“B-But…But…” you gasp, unable to articulate your shame. Likely unable to articulate anything, even if your life depended on it.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says consolingly, fingertips stroking your tender, abused flesh with reverence. “You can cry if you need to.”

And you do, his permission seeming to open up the floodgates until you’re crying and drooling so much and so hard your face may as well be in competition with your pussy which is leaking your slick down your thighs at a similar rate.

“You look incredible like this,” he rasps, his voice hoarse. “Ass so red it’s nearly glowing, cunt needier than I’ve ever seen it.”

His fingertips lightly, possessively stroke across his handiwork, and you do your best not to wriggle or whine. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?” he asks, and you nod frantically, your eyes clenched tightly shut and forcing your tears down your face. Humming in approval, he gently guides you back up, standing you between his spread legs. Even while sitting on the bed he remains taller than you, and as you look up at him through your tears you feel small, nervous, and…

Safe.

This feeling is only reinforced as Terry takes your face in his hands, brushing away your tears and cooing at you softly as you tremble before him. Just as you start to relax underneath his touch, letting your guard down, he releases his grip, staring down at you intensely.

“Get on your knees. Now.”

Your eyes widen and you hasten to obey, the aching sting of your behind a painful reminder of the consequences of disobedience. You wince as you get down on your knees before him, and Terry looks down at you with mock sympathy.

“Oh, sweetheart. Are you sore?” he asks condescendingly.

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you sniffle, unable to look him in the eye as you stand up on your knees. He doesn’t immediately respond, prompting you to turn your gaze upward to see a glint in his eye.

“Sit on your heels. All the way down,” he instructs, and it takes a moment for your brain to force your body to respond, your stinging flesh rubbing against the rougher fabric of your socks making you whimper. Terry’s eyes are bright as they watch you gingerly try to remain in the uncomfortable position.

“Sometimes we need to experience pain to help us learn our lesson, don’t we Y/N?” he asks, casually crossing his long legs at the ankle, his feet nearly brushing your knees.

“Yes Sir,” you reply immediately, trying to keep your face and tone neutral.

“And what lesson have you learned from this, baby?”

“N-Not to hide things from you.”

“And?” he presses, clearly savouring your obedience despite your discomfort. This is what happens when you try to push Terry into something, your inner voice scolds you. He gives you what you want and then some. And then more than you can handle.

“To listen to you. And do what you say,” you force the words out meekly, feeling the flush return to your cheeks as you’re put in your place, on your knees before him. As you should be, that inner voice purrs with conviction.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, and another shiver of desire courses through you. You try not to squirm on your feet, not wanting to aggravate your aching skin further.

“Do you want me to tell you what’s wrong?” you ask, looking up at him with teary, pleading eyes. Anything to get you off your heels.

Terry smirks down at you with glittering eyes, taking the side of your face in his hand and gently stroking your cheek, and you just know you’re in for it.

“Not yet, sweet thing. There’s something else that pouty mouth needs to do first.” His free hand moves to his belt, deftly undoing it and pulling it free, his eyes never leaving your own.

You start to fidget in your apprehension, but stop immediately when it irritates your sensitive skin. “B-But I –” you stammer, unsure if you can be coherent enough to service him properly.

“You will do what I say,” he says sternly, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down enough to free his throbbing, leaky cock before sitting back down on the very edge of the bed. “Isn’t that right, little doll?”

“Yes, Daddy.” At least you’d have to stand up on your knees to blow him if he sat like that, and you yearn for some relief.

“That’s right, babygirl. I’ve given you your punishment, and now it’s time for you to thank me for doing so.”

You nod at him silently, accepting your fate but not having the wherewithal to respond with words. You’d probably just say something that would get you into even more trouble.

“I won’t be repeating myself, so be a good girl and listen,” he tells you firmly, and God, the way he talks down to you never fails to drive you wild…

You nod again, your body tense with anticipation.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue” he growls, and you immediately obey, relaxing your jaw, your pink tongue out and resting against your bottom lip.

“Eyes on me the entire time, do you understand?”

A third nod, and you keep your tongue out and your mouth open as you bob your head up and down, and Terry clearly enjoys the sight. He reaches down to your face slowly, lightly pinching the tip of your tongue and tugging on it before sliding two of his long, thick fingers into your mouth. You immediately start to suck, twirling your tongue around his digits, and he lets out a groan of approval.

“Such a responsive little thing,” he purrs. “But you lips won’t be able to reach me from all the way down there. Let me help you,” he offers with mock sincerity, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he tucks himself back into his pants, stands and walks past you to retrieve a small ottoman from your sitting area and placing it at the foot of the bed next to you. He retakes his seat on the bed, a foot to either side of the ottoman, and frees his cock once more, stroking it slowly with one hand and pointing down between his legs with the other.

“Come. Sit. Same position.”

You crawl up onto the ottoman and try to gently sit back on your heels, but it’s useless – you’re going to be hurting for quite awhile, you imagine. You’re now comfortably eye level with his abdomen, though you keep your eyes on his and your tongue out, as instructed. You’re so wet you think you can feel it through your socks, and fight the urge to wantonly grind against yourself, not wanting to earn further punishment.

Terry guides his cock to your wet and waiting mouth, tracing the curve of your upper lip with the thick head with a feral expression before laying his heavy length along your outstretched tongue.

“Pleasure me,” he demands in a low voice, eyes locked with yours as he eagerly awaits your response. Biting back a moan at his salty, musky flavour on your tongue, you set to work, sealing your lips around him and sucking the first few inches of him into your mouth.

Terry’s eyes start to roll back in his head and you watch him struggle to keep his eyes on you, feeling an overwhelming sense of power and pride as he immediately starts to come apart for you. Encouraged by his response, you bob your head with even more enthusiasm, wriggling your tongue along the underside of his cock the way he likes.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Show me how grateful you are,” he groans, body tense as he tries to maintain his composure and keep from thrusting into you. Wanting to give him a break, you take his cock in hand, stroking it languidly as you lick him all over, gently taking his balls in your mouth until he tosses his head back, the silver locks starting to come loose from their ponytail.

“You know just how I like it, don’t you?” he hisses through gritted teeth, thrusting into your palm. “I love how hard you try to please me, my dirty girl.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you purr coyly, batting your eyes up at him and he snarls, fisting a hand in your hair and guiding your greedy mouth back to his cock. Clearly you weren’t meant to be taking the reins quite that much while in this dynamic with him.

“I’m going to count to three,” Terry growls as you take his length between your lips once more, “And by the time I get there you’d better have all of me down that pretty little throat.” His grip on your hair tightens in warning, making your scalp sting.

“One.”

You bob your head, taking slightly more of his length into your mouth every time, approaching your gag reflex.

“Two.”

Before he can get to ‘three�� you force yourself to relax your throat, pushing yourself forward until your nose presses against his firm stomach, your eyes watering as they try to keep looking up at him; you don’t want to disobey him now, not after all this. Terry lets out a filthy groan, one hand coming up to gently caress the back of your head, keeping you in place.

“Christ, you take me so well. Keep me inside, baby girl. You can do it.”

Your hands are balled into fists as you force yourself to deepthroat him, drool escaping from the corners of your mouth in rivers as you fight to hold your breath. Terry stares down at you with reverence as you push yourself past your discomfort in order to please him, fiery pleasure coiling in your belly.

Just as your vision starts to darken around the edges he pulls out, watching you gasp for breath between his legs, fighting to keep your tongue out and your eyes on his. He stares down at you for only a moment to enjoy your struggle to obey before stroking the side of your face.

“Take a minute to recover, precious girl, it’s alright,” he breathes, and you nod, resting your forehead on the edge of the mattress and taking deep, calming breaths, wiping your tears and drool off your face the best you can, but Terry’s hand comes down under your chin, tilting your head back up.

“Ah ah ah, none of that,” he chides you, batting your hands away. “You will not deprive me of the sight of you looking like a well-used fucktoy.”

You whimper at the degradation, and Terry gives you a toothy grin, cradling your face in both hands.

“I’m going to use you now,” he informs you seriously, and a shudder runs through you at his tone. “And when I come you’re going to keep it in your mouth, understood?”

“Y-”

Before you can even respond he’s thrusting himself back into your mouth, holding the sides of your head tightly as he takes his pleasure in your body. All you can do is hold still and do your best to breathe when you’re able, moaning as he uses you hard and fast.

“Perfect tight mouth… take all your slutty holes… all mine,” he grunts savagely as he fucks your face, coming down your throat with a growl of your name. You fight the urge to swallow, his cum heavy on your tongue, hoping that this would be the end and you could finally rest.

Terry’s POV:

He stares down at you as he tucks himself back into his pants, watching you trying to catch your breath through your nose as you keep his cum in your mouth, crying and red-faced.

Gods above, you are a perfect creature.

He quickly takes his phone out of his pants pocket, snapping a few photos of you (it helped that you were unable to protest even if you wanted to, what with your mouth being full) to immortalize the moment.

“Alright sweetheart, you can swallow,” he says soothingly, waiting for you to do so before scooping you up and placing you back in his lap and feeling you tense weakly as his pants rub against the sensitive flesh of your ass.

“My brave, brave girl,” he coos, wrapping his arms around you tightly and peppering your face with kisses. “You did so good.”

“T-Thank you Daddy,” you whine, turning to bury your face into his chest.

“Ssshh, no more of that, sweetheart,” he croons, helping you out of your shirt before lifting you as he gets up off the bed and lightly laying you down on your stomach, arranging the pillows around you comfortably. “I’m going to take care of you now.”

“Mmph,” you mumble incoherently into the silk sheets, and he chuckles as he moves to retrieve a bottle of lotion from the dresser across the room. You lift your head slightly to repeat yourself.

“I’m too tired, Terry” you sigh, though your body seems to suggest otherwise, arching slightly as he lightly runs his hand along your calf.

“You don’t need to do anything, babygirl, just relax and enjoy,” he purrs, climbing onto the bed next to you. He quickly braids your hair, moving it out of the way before getting to work. He starts with your butt, still covered in a mosaic of red handprints, liberally applying lotion as he tries to relieve some of your pain.

He needs to take care of you well this first time if he’s going to coax you into repeating it again, and based on how you both responded to the spanking he’s definitely going to be insisting on a repeat performance.

By the time he finishes his gentle massage, your thighs are constantly quivering and twitching beneath his touch, the smell of your arousal permeating the air. Biting back a smug grin, he pretends to ignore the tempting sight that you present, sliding up your body to continue your massage.

"All mine. You're all mine, Y/N,” he murmurs, over and over again as he thoroughly massages your neck and shoulders, moving down your back until he’s reached the curve of your ass again. Moving past it, he kneels at the foot of the bed, rubbing your feet and fighting the urge to tickle them as he hears your muffled giggles through your little fort of pillows and blankets.

As soon as he starts working up your calves, the laughter stops and his smile turns into a predatory grin.

“I’m still so proud of you, sweetheart,” he says conversationally as he slowly works his way up your legs. He hears a soft moan from further up the bed and smirks at the sound, keen on pulling out more reactions from you. It’s the least you deserved after all of your obedience.

“You took so much for me, babygirl. I knew you could do it,” he praises as he spreads your thighs apart slightly to massage them, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping pussy peeking out at him from the apex of your thighs.

"Are we going to be a good girl from now on?" he asks teasingly as his fingers toy with the delicate skin of your inner thighs. He can’t make out your muffled response, and can’t resist goading you once more.

“Use your words, Princess,” he purrs, squeezing your thigh in warning, and you squeak as you lift your head up to answer him.

“Yeeeess, Terry!” you whine, clamping your legs together around his hand. “I’ll be a good girl, I promise!”

“Good,” he says approvingly as he turns you over gently onto your back, taking one of your hands and rubbing it with his thumb before moving up your arm. “Now, what has you so upset lately?”

The story spills out of your pouty, swollen lips immediately, and he remains outwardly focused on your massage so that you don’t dwell on your words. Internally he snarls as the names of your manager and a particularly aggravating coworker are identified as the source of your recent stress; he so wishes you would just take him up on his offer to have you never work a day in your life again, but you were adamant about your independence and on never having to solely rely on him.

He can respect it, but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.

He appeases himself with thoughts of how to address the situation, everything from framing the perpetrators for embezzlement to them having a tragic ‘accident’ crossing his mind, but you had too big of a heart for that. He’ll have to settle for indulging in the thought alone.

“…and it’s just frustrating that I can never say anything back to them, no matter how angry I get,” you finish, sighing exasperatedly as you stare at the ceiling. “I just wish I could let out some of my frustration at the source of it all, you know what I mean? Well, I guess you wouldn’t,” you say teasingly with a slight laugh, and he kisses the back of your hand as he positions himself further down your body to the tops of your thighs.

“I’m sorry, Terry,” you sigh, your eyes gently closed from either the relaxation or your chagrin. “It wasn’t fair of me to take out everything on you. I’ve been awful lately,”

“Now now,” he interrupts, clucking his tongue at you. “None of that, darling. Besides, you’ve more than made up for it this evening, wouldn’t you say?” he adds, leering at you once you open your eyes to look at him and making you giggle.

“Are you suggesting I should be a brat more often?” you ask with a cheeky smile.

Instead of replying, he spreads your legs wide, diving in and finally giving into the desire to lap up your musky, sweet nectar. You shriek in surprise at the sudden movement, and he quickly takes hold of your hips, trying to keep them in place without pressing them into the mattress too hard. He thrusts his tongue inside, savouring your taste, and can tell that you’re already close. Somewhat reluctantly, he decides to take it easy on you, honing in on your sweet pearl and sucking on it until you’re coming hard for him, your fists gripping the sheets as you try to arch upward, crying his name.

“If you feel the need to keep up the pretense, darling, feel free,” he hums, idly toying with your slick folds as he laves kisses across your bare chest. “I’ll be doling out the punishments and rewards as I see fit regardless.”

“Oh, poor me,” you reply snarkily, twining your body against his and trying to cuddle him. Not one to be outdone, Terry detangles himself from your limbs to quickly undress once more, pulling back the blankets and watching you slide under them before joining you, rearranging you just how he likes. He’ll slip away once you’ve fallen asleep to bring you up something to eat along with some painkillers to help take the ache away; you weren’t accustomed to sex quite this rough. Not yet, that is.

“Poor you?” he repeats quietly into your hair, amused as always by your sass. Kissing the top of your head, he clutches you to his chest possessively. “Not a chance. Not ever again.”

[No, the gifs scattered throughout have nothing to do with the events, but the tone they gave off seemed appropriate (or at least hot)]

#thomas ian griffith #terry silver #cobra kai #smut #the karate kid 3 #karate kid #kk3 #terry silver x reader #TIGmas #12 days of tigmas

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