#but my brain would NOT shut up about it until i wrote an actual fic

[malachitezmeyka]

Suddenly got this really weird off-putting feeling in my chest that I usually get when I’m about to cry over something, but also with some general iffyness thrown into the mix, and for once instead of immediately giving in to it or getting pissed at my mind I tried to figure out where it came from

Turns out I would have been completely justified in getting pissed at my mind because turns out, the cause is that I thought about a fic concept I was really excited about a few months ago that I never ended up writing because I couldn’t get into the flow from the very first sentence. I thought about it for a whole five seconds and now we’re here. Fucking great

[almadelsur]

💋 The Secrets One Keeps

summary: You're in love with jj but he's with kie, so in moments of pure desperation you often find yourself turning to the person he hates the most...rafe

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, one or two uses of y/n, plz let me know if I missed anything

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering i first wrote this like 3 years ago, and yes for those of you who have been asking, I fully intend to finallly continue this fic....more info on that later ;)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

JJ’s eyes change the moment Kiara steps into any room. Immediately his presence is ripped away from your immediate atmosphere, popping the little bubble you'd spent all afternoon crafting as he sprung up to greet the olive-skinned enigma that captured his affections.

“Kie!” The joy in his tone was incomparable to anything he’d directed at anybody else. Nothing could draw out such happiness from the blonde. You hated that about her.

In an attempt at self-defense, your brain shut itself off. Shielding you from processing the scene in front of you, your emotions ran cold like cement pouring down and across your neurons. It was the only way you could survive such a beating to your heart.

You figured that by distancing yourself mentally, you wouldn’t have to raise suspicion and distance yourself physically. In reality, you knew the real reasoning was your inability to stay away from JJ but the facade helped you cope.

“Hey J” she embraced him and his body relaxed around her as if she was the only source of his happiness. The only way he’d find alleviation from what he perceived as a shitty life being through her. “Sorry I’m late my parents had me running like crazy at the wreck today.”

Scattered greetings filled the air from the rest of the pogues, yet you could only focus on the way his eyes fixated on her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here come sit baby” he offered her the seat he had just previously been place holding. What you thought had been quality time with your best friend, presented itself to you now as momentary attention to pass the time until his actual desire arrived.

Settling herself down and offering you a wide smile, her shoulder bumped against yours gently as a sign of acknowledgment.

“Hey dude” she directed at you, but you didn’t reply. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pretend. Not today anyway. Instead, you offered her a small smile, it was minimal but it was the best you could do under the circumstances.

“Yo" A crumpled tissue paper flew at your head, jj attempting to refocus your attention on him, "didn’t you say you were gonna get some water or something?” He spoke up, the scheme evident in his tone.

“um yeah I guess” You lifted yourself up and took a few steps before jj used the opportunity to slump himself down where you had been sat and sprawled his arms across his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“snooze ya loose sucker” he joked as he turned to Kiara to start up some mindless conversation. Leaving you behind in the dust.

Your teeth gritted as you focused on making your way to the kitchen hoping the distance from the scene unfolding would lift the iron grip on your heart.

You made the fatal mistake of glancing back and you were met with the image of jj nuzzling up to kiara in a picturesque display of love. The lump building at the base of your throat indicated that it was your time to get the hell out of there before you broke down in front of everyone. 

“Shit guys, y’know what I just realized I gotta go” You spoke quickly, your tone matching your pace as you rushed to the exit of the chateau. 

“You’re still coming to the party later though right?” John B asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 

“Mhm yeah sure” you opened the door ready to depart. 

“Shit I forgot about that! Me and jj are gonna be late, we got dinner at the wreck tonight.” kiara added as you stepped out, unable to control the escape of a rogue tear.

“Date night babyyyy” You heard JJ cheer before you slammed the door behind you. 

“Is Y/N okay? She seemed a bit off.” Kie nudged JJ as she questioned. 

JJ furrowed his eyebrows momentarily. Glancing out the window, he saw you jog away from the house, and a brief flash of worry flashed through his mind. As quick as it came, it dissipated. He shook his head figuring that if there had been something wrong, he’d have been the first to know. 

“Nah she’s okay don't worry.” he offered to kie.

Boy was he mistaken. 

——————————————————————

“Fuuuck me” you moaned out, sinking into him one last time. You were hot, sweaty, and heaving as you pulled him out of you.

“I thought I just did” Rafe taunted leaning back to lie down, arms crossed behind his head causing his taut abdomen to flex.

You scrambled off the bed, picking up your garments and shoving them back on your body forcefully.

“What, no pillow talk?” He tried again.

“Rafe..” you trailed off. Whenever you’d finish fucking, you’d struggle to even look at him. The self-hatred flooded your body as soon as the orgasm poured out.

“Hey you called me” he eyed you intently but you knew he didn’t actually care. To rafe cameron everything was just a game. At this point it was pretty much common knowledge. “In fact” he moved closer to you so that he could speak directly into your ear “It’s always you that calls me.”

“Don’t be a dick” you stood up and eyed your heels contemplating whether you could face the walk back in them. “You know it makes me feel like shit.” It might have sounded brutal but that’s how things were with rafe.

“Yeah, it’s like you punctuate your orgasms with self-hate.”

“I'm a pogue, rafe.” You argued back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So? Kooks and pogues can fuck you know.” You couldn’t comprehend why you were even having this conversation. Why now, why tonight.

“Yeah maybe, not you though.” You didn’t want to tell him the reason explicitly.

“I fuck pogues.”

“You fuck anyone.” The words came out almost instantly and without thinking, yet rafe took no offense.

“Exactly so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is, rafe.” You paused trying to find the words without actually having to say the words. “The issue is that if my friends found out they’d hate me, probably more than I already hate myself.”

He just chuckled, the look in his eyes changing as he figured you out.

“What's funny?” You challenged.

“You don’t have to bullshit me princess.” He looked up at you with a devilish glint in his eye. “You just don’t want jj knowing about your little escapades huh?” Bingo.

“He’s with Kiara.” You shrugged him off.

“Uh huh, you like him but you can’t have him.” Every word he spoke striking a nerve deep within you. “So you’re fucking me to fuck him over.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grabbed your heels and shoved them on, wincing as you buckled them up.

“Don’t I?” He threw his joggers on lazily as he stood, the level dynamics changing significantly. The older boy towered over you. “Where are they tonight?”

“Back at John B’s, we had a little get-together.” You crossed your arms. More often than not you usually called rafe after a few drinks left you feeling lonely. “Sorry, your invite must have gotten lost in the mail.” You attempted to jab at him with sarcasm yet he clearly held the upper hand with his line of questioning. 

“So all of them are there now?” He stepped towards you.

“Mhm,” You lied.

“Even jj?” Moving closer until your neck was craned upwards to meet his eyes.

Taking your silence as an answer, he reached up and ran his palms across your upper arms, prompting you to uncross them.

“He was uh- him and kie should be getting there soon” You mumbled.

“So would i be wrong in guessing, that might have prompted your call then?” You let yourself be guided by his movements leaning your neck further back as his hand trailed up to your jawbone.

“rafe…” you called out insignificantly.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your neck, right over where he could feel your pulse, and pressed down.

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your mouth. Because as much as your heart belonged to jj, rafe was just so fucking good at raising your temperature.

“Round two?” He mumbled against your neck.

“Yeah..” you attempted yet it came out as a whisper. He grabbed you swiftly and lifted you, moving you across the room and throwing you down onto his bed, crawling on top of you in a predatory manner as he did so. As your back hit the bed, the ringing of your phone brought you back from the haze he had you under. 

“Wait rafe stop stop” you pushed him off and grabbed the screeching mobile, pressing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Dude, where are you?” The sound of jj’s voice came through over the pumping sound of music and party chatter. “Me and Kie just got back and John B says no one’s seen you for like over an hour.”

“Oh I’m uh, I had to go do something for my mom” The lie pouring out of your mouth caused rafe to chuckle which was of course met by a slap from you signaling for him to be quiet.

“Oh well, when are you getting back? I have to tell you about this date. You’re gonna be so proud of me I actually think I’m ready to tell Kie I love her” you screwed your eyes shut as he spoke.

“Yeah I- you know what I can’t make it back my mom needs me to stay and help out but uh I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” You hung up before he could even reply, throwing your phone down uncaring of its state.

“What’s wrong? They getting hitched?” Rafe spoke up from behind you.

You turned to Rafe, the fire in your veins pushing your arms to grab him, roughly pulling him back onto you.

“Just shut up and fuck me rafe.”

And fuck you he did.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up to the sight of rafe’s bare back. Not much of a cuddler, you figured.

Quietly you pushed the covers off and began to dress yourself back up. As you got to your shoes you sighed and shook your head, as if there was any way in hell you were going to walk home in heels. You scooped up your shoes and your now-cracked phone shaking your head, slightly ashamed at your outburst.

Without even a second glance at the sleeping body you were leaving behind, you made your way over to the door. As you turned the knob and stepped out to leave, a husky voice spoke up.

“I’ll keep my ringer on for you babe.”

You rolled your eyes looking back at him, “Fuck you rafe.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on.” He didn’t even open his eyes as he answered, instead just rustling around in the bed and turning to the other side, once again facing his back to you.

You scoffed as you exited. Your internal rant clouded your vision, body on autopilot with an excellent self-navigation of the Cameron house from the countless times you’d made this exit.

“Y/N?” The gentle voice wiped your thoughts clean as the shock stilled you dead in your tracks, slowly turning to come face to face with none other than Sarah.

“Sarah” you drawled out. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my house?” Her head was cocked to the side, equally shocked to see you.

“No I just mean- I thought you were spending the night at John B’s.” You forced the small talk, avoiding the topic of why you were here, sneaking out at 8 in the morning.

“He had to work today, did you spend the night here?” She glanced up at the door of rafe’s bedroom.

“Umm-“ There had only been two other instances where you had been at a complete loss for words. The day jj told you he and Kiara were dating, the morning after your first sexual encounter with rafe, and now this.

“Are you sleeping with my brother?!” She whisper-shouted, eyes wide as the realization hit her. Busted.

“No?”

“Oh my god!” She grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to her room, slamming the door as soon as you were both inside. “How long has this been going on?!” Her tone was loud and her hands wild as she interrogated you.

“Just a little under a year.” You sat on her bed and looked at your lap as you spoke. Reminiscent of a child being scolded.

“A year?! Oh my god!” She repeated. “Who knows about this?!”

With that, you looked up at her desperately. “No one. No one knows so please don’t tell them.” You didn’t have to name names for her to know who you were referring to.

“Are you two like” she paused “together?” She scrunched her nose up, disgusted at the thought of her bully of an older brother dating anyone.

“No god no. It’s just sex” you were just as uncomfortable as Sarah was, having to tell her about boning her older brother.

“Disgusting.” She turned away from you with her arms crossed, looking out the window.

“Look I’m not proud of it okay? Just-“ You sighed “Just please don’t tell anyone” pleading again.

Sarah let out a long sigh and uncrossed her arms. She walked over to you and joined you on the bed, her eyes showing concern mixed with something you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

“I thought you were into jj” she spoke softly, there it was. Pity.

“Yeah well, jj is with kie and instead of sitting around wallowing in self-pity, I decided to do something about it.” As the words left your mouth, you realized how weak the explanation was.

“So you just use rafe to bang the jj out of you.”

“It’s not like Rafe cares, if anything he’s also using me.” You tried to reason.

“I don’t doubt that. But I mean, that’s- It’s not healthy, you’ll never move on if you don’t actually process your emotio-“

“Look Sarah, I don’t need to do any of that shit okay? What I have here works, when I fu- when I’m with rafe, I don’t think about jj.” Tears began to swell in your eyes “Sleeping with rafe helps me forget about everything, even if it’s only for a little while he uh- he makes me feel good.” To an extent, there was truth behind your words, while you and rafe fucked the rest of the world went away. It was only after, that the crippling self-hatred hit you along with the return of your immense feelings for jj. 

Sarah shuffled over and threw her arm around you. “That’s not good for you, it’s just momentary. It’s easy and it's a cycle, you’re never going to get better going down this path. Especially not with rafe.”

“Rafe he’s- he’s not that bad.”

“Yes he is. But i bet it gives you satisfaction fucking him knowing jj hates him. Feels like revenge right?” She’d always been so perceptive your Sarah, you hated how she could see right through you.

Tears ran down your cheek silently. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” You sniffled.

She gave you one of those classic salt-of-the-earth Sarah Cameron smiles, the kinda smile that would light up any room she walked into. “Takin' it to the grave babe.”

A loud beeping caused both your heads to whip towards the window. “Shit, I completely forgot I was supposed to go on the HMS with pope and jj, we were gonna chill there until John B and Kie finished work.” She rose to her feet and extended an arm towards you. “Wanna come? Or we could drop you home if you’re not up for it.”

With a sigh you took her hand and pulled yourself up, walking beside her as you mentally prepped yourself to face the blonde you desperately pined for.

“Well rise and shine campers.” jj yelled out of the window of the drivers seat.

“Y/N! Where you been dude? you totally bailed last night.” Pope was next to speak as you and Sarah filed into the Twinkie. As JJ began to drive you avoided any form of eye contact in his general direction.

“I had to go help my mom out, blackout at mine again.” You didn’t even look at pope either, instead focusing your attention on the blur of trees and houses pacing by the window as JJ sped down the winding roads.

“Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?” pope, observant as always, pointed out.

“Uh yeah, I didn’t really get any time to change cause…”

“I called her last night when I got home, I was so drunk I don’t think I was ready to stop the party.” Sarah covered for you.

“Yeah I wrapped up helping my mom out and then this one calls me talkin bout a sleepover or something so I didn’t exactly have much time to change.” 

Thankfully pope had lost interest as soon as he had asked the question, otherwise, your overcompensating ass would have been caught out straight away. You always had to add to the lie until you felt like you had sold it completely.

Keeping your eyes trained on the outside meant that jj’s frown directed at you through the windscreen mirror went completely undetected. He always knew whenever there was something up with you and right there and then he knew something definitely was.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t need to address you explicitly for you to know he was talking to you.

“Yeah just tired.” You shrugged him off in an attempt to distance yourself from him yet again.

He knew you were lying but he didn’t understand why, you never lied to each other. Apart from John B, the pair of you were closer to each other than with anybody else in the group. You’d been best friends since kindergarten, and since then you’d sworn 3 things to each other.

1- You’d always share your snacks.

2-You’d always be best friends even if you argued.

 3- You would never ever lie or keep secrets from each other.

Of course, as the both of you grew older the rules became more and more lax. The snack sharing was limited only to when you felt nice enough and sometimes you’d go for days without making up if you had argued particularly badly. Having kept two friendship-breaking secrets from him, the childhood rules seemed pretty insignificant by now.

“Mhm,” he responded, flickering his eyes between you and the road. “Are we taking you home to change first?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll join you guys afterward though.” You chewed down on your nail anxiously as the tension from being in the same space as jj paired with the guilt from having fucked rafe prior, suffocated you.

JJ made a face as he focused on the road, something was wrong with you and he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to put his everything into finding out what that was.

[jwnzlvr]

just take it

pairing : boxer!nishimura riki x reporter!fem reader

summary : you asks stupid questions, you get very interesting answers! or, riki gets sick of your shit and he definitely lets you know.

wc : 2.4k

warnings : SMUT (mdni), noncon/dubcon themes, p in v, pwp (very light plot tbh), unprotected sex (don’t do that folks!), light edging and overstim, choking, light slapping, squirting, fingering, (slight) degradation, not proofread!, DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ (i will be promptly blocking anyone who doesn’t like and does read.)

notes : everyone say thank you ash (@gyaruoriki go read her fics !) for the idea love ur big sexy brain mmmm !!! i wrote this at midnight while thinking abt this cute guy i saw at work who had just come out of the gym wearing bandages MHMM scrumptious. anyways, yall enjoy <3

seeing riki high off his adrenaline, eyes filled with pure determination and rage did something to you. you’d heard from other sources that riki was competitive and winning his matches was always something important for him. however, you never really understood just how strong this competitiveness was until you saw him in the ring.

sweat mixed with blood dripped down his face. the bruises on his torso were indicators of how well this round was going. not good at all. according to riki, this was all YOUR fault. every time that you were a part of the audience of a match always ended in him losing. it’s been loss after loss for him lately.

‘how important could that stupid article be for her to ruin my fucking matches?’ riki would ask himself. definitely not important enough to cause him yet another loss tonight. his opponent managed to catch him off guard, throwing a punch straight to his gut. the impact made riki fold over, his hand on his stomach and a bit of blood being coughed up.

“fuck this…” he mumbled as he tried to get back up but his body decided to give out on him completely. you watched in disappointment as riki fell to the floor of the ring. the referee counted to ten, officially making riki the loser of this round and the match.

white noise filled riki’s ears and only one thing was on his mind: you. you, the one who seems to be like bad luck to him. you, the one who can’t seem to shut the fuck up. you, who always asks the worst questions at the worst times. like now. because for some reason, you thought it’d be real smart to follow him into the locker room and ask an angry, upset riki “so, how do you feel about this being your fourth loss this season?”

the simple sound of your voice made him want to punch you in the face. or stick his dick into it. he wasn’t too sure yet.

riki stared at you in disbelief. he scoffed before turning to look at anything else but you. “are you serious right now?” he asked, his fatigue dripping into his voice. “well, it’s an actual question i need to make.” you retorted, notepad and pen in your lap.

“it’s an actual question? okay. i’m pissed off. i never lose but it seems ever since you started showing up here, you just ruined shit for me. what are you even writing about on that stupid fucking notepad? are your articles even important? what do you even write about?” his frustration was absolutely evident. you thought for a second before answering him. “illegal boxing. underground boxing. and no, it’s not my fault you’ve been losing. that’s very much your problem. i’m just doing my job. it’s really not my fault you can’t handle a simple loss.”

your words set something off inside of riki. something beyond anger, beyond wanting to rock your shit. something dark. you’d really fucked up by now.

‘fuck it.’ he thought to himself before he grabbed you by the arm. “what are you-“ “shut the fuck up.” he cut you off as he threw you to the floor, immediately caging you between him and the cement under you. you couldn’t even react from how fast everything had happened. one second you were on a chair and the other you were on the floor with riki’s breath against your lips.

being in this position made riki realize how attractive you really were. sure, he hated your guts but he admitted from the start that you were hot. he knew eventually he’d try to get you alone to fuck you but he didn’t think it would be right now. or that it’d be under these circumstances.

you shook under him, you didn’t know from what. fear? shock? one look into his eyes told you everything you needed to know of his intentions with you. they held an eerie darkness to them. it shook you to your core. riki didn’t give you more time to think but hiking up your skirt, revealing your plush thighs to him. he grinned at the sight of your stockings and your panties. how cute.

“fuck, you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do this to you… coming into my space just to ruin shit. just made me wanna fuck that stupid smile off your face. want me to do that? actually, who cares what you want. i think i deserve at least this as a reward for you ruining my winning streak.” he smirked as he ripped your stockings off of you along with your panties.

you whimpered at how aggressive he was being. your hands immediately tried to wrap around his forearms. it seemed you forgot riki was probably ten times stronger than you, and he showed this by promptly releasing your grip on him and using one hand to push both your arms above you.

“really? do you actually think you can get me off of you?” riki’s grin widened. you felt a shock of fear down your spine. he was having fun. he was about to do something disgusting, yet he was having fun.

you couldn’t even move around as he was on top of you, his weight holding you down. “what do you want?” your voice came out in a tremble. riki only looked you up and down before answering.

“revenge. and a little fun.”

revenge? for making him lose? this was a new level of petty for you. and the way he was getting his revenge was definitely not your favorite. riki used his hands to pry apart your thighs, immediately getting a negative response from you. you didn’t even get to say anything to him before he reached his hand back up and slapped you across the face.

“don’t fucking complain. just take it.”

his thigh was slotted in between yours, putting some pressure on you with it. you tried your best to not show an expression of pleasure to him. you couldn’t let him know you enjoyed the slight pressure on you. your clit twitched at the feeling of his shorts against you.

he slotted his hand in between where his thigh was and your heat. his fingers traced around for a bit before finding your clit. he smirked as he rolled it between his fingers. he had fun watching you try to not whine at the feeling of him playing around with you.

he gave a dark chuckle at the sight before him. “i know you’re enjoying this, baby. i can feel you getting wet.” and he was right, your pussy beginning to get damp. you refused to give into his actions thought. “fuck you!” you yelled, trying to move but only making it worse for yourself.

riki decided he had enough of your brattiness and pinched your clit as punishment. you yelped at the bit of pain followed by some pleasure. your pleasure was promptly taken away when riki gave another pinch, this time hard enough to make you almost tear up.

“fuck me? gladly.” he gave a fake smile as he took his thigh back from between you. his hand immediately made its way back to between your thighs. you didn’t even get to do or say anything before two of his long fingers slipped inside of you. you couldn’t bite back that moan, letting riki know that felt good to you.

no. no, it shouldn’t feel good. but with each curl of riki’s fingers you felt your defense falling some more. his thumb grazed over your clit occasionally, making you clench on his fingers. riki knew you were starting to enjoy it and it was evident on how his fingers started to thrust in and out of you with more force than you’ve felt.

he watched as you whined, trying to deny it felt good but your body couldn’t lie. you were gushing on him and you knew it. you felt your high getting close. your hips moved on his fingers automatically as you got closer and closer.

you could taste your orgasm coming, just a few more thrusts from riki and you’d come undone. unfortunately for you, riki decided to torture you a bit. he slipped his fingers out of you just as you were about to cum. you let out a pathetic whine at the loss of contact, riki only grinning before sticking his fingers in his mouth to taste you. he hummed at your taste.

“what’s wrong? i thought you didn’t want me to touch you?” his voice dripped of fake sympathy. now he was acting like he gave a damn what you wanted. you shook your head. your head was so hazy, you didn’t even know what you wanted anymore. all you knew is you needed to cum. no matter what.

you whined at his words. “i changed my mind…” you wanted to cry at how he edged you. “just let me cum, please.” you almost begged him. that was more than enough for riki. he finally properly lifted your skirt, getting a good look at you. he then pushed his shorts and boxers down, revealing his hard cock. precum dripped from it, making your pussy clench.

he saw as your hole clenched and grinned ever so bigger. he let his middle finger graze over your wet hole. “you like looking at my dick, baby? want it in you?” he teasingly asked. you could only nod at him. you needed him in you. riki sighed exaggeratedly at your reaction. “well, i guess i can’t leave you hanging… if you’re good for me, i’ll even cum in you. you want that?”

you felt yourself drool at the idea of being stuffed with cum. it was crazy how you went from wanting riki off of you to making him cum inside you. you felt insatiable. “yes, cum in me. want you all in me!” you cried.

he silently gave his cock a few strokes before sliding into you. your jaw dropped at the feeling of you being stretched on his dick. it was so thick with a good length, it felt perfect. he went slowly as to let you feel every inch of him. after what felt like an eternity, you felt his hips press against you.

he let out a low groan at how tight and warm you were. “god, this pussy feels so good. you like having my cock in you, hm?” he moaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. there’s his answer. you let out whimpers at the feeling of him being so deep. his tip was hitting straight into your spot, the slightest movement making you want to scream in pleasure.

his hips began to slowly thrust in and out of you. the drag of his cock in your walls made you see stars and you couldn’t help but grind on him. he felt satisfaction at seeing you be a hot mess for him. “yeah, you like that…” his thrusts gradually got a bit faster, a continuous fap fap fap being heard across the locker room.

“nghh riki…” you whined as his cock was digging into you. it was heaven on earth for you. riki finally let go of your arms after a while. you moved them to wrap around his neck, your hands tugging on his hair. a low groan escaped his throat at your actions. his now free hand made its way to your neck, wrapping around it and giving a small squeeze.

you gasped at his hand around your neck. “you’re such a good girl for me, ya know? can just fuck you whenever i want and how i like. so good…” he praised as his thrusts got harsher. and for the first time that night, he leaned in to give you a kiss. it was so messy, teeth clashing and tongues dancing but it was perfect.

his hand squeezed your throat a bit tighter, making you feel woozy. his other hand went to squeeze your left tit, satisfied at how soft it felt even when you still had your shirt and bra on. the lack of oxygen made you needier and more desperate to cum. riki knew this when you began to clench around him.

“fuck, gonna cum? cum whenever you want, i said i couldn’t leave you hanging.” he gave you a hazy smile. his brain was completely fogged up. he couldn’t formulate a thought other than fucking you. he was just as out of it as you.

you felt your pleasure from before building up, trying to give riki a warning. “cu- ‘m cumming!” your words sounded choked but he knew exactly what you were trying to say. he didn’t give you a verbal response. he only gave your throat the hardest squeeze he could without hurting you. “cum for me, baby.”

that was enough for you to release all over him, your release hitting his thighs. he kept fucking you as you came, watching in awe as you squirted all over him. he finally let go of your throat and let you catch your breath as you came down from your high.

“did i fuck you that good? such a dirty girl f’ me.” he groaned as he felt himself get close to his release. he ignored your cries of overstimulation as he kept fucking you. “since you were so good, you get my cum. are you happy, baby?” he asked.

you gave him an eager nod, trying to ignore how overstimulated you were for him. “so happy, want you to cum in me. please, riki!” you moaned loudly. that was enough for riki to start painting your walls white. his head was thrown back as he released into you. you enjoyed the feeling of riki cumming in you, moaning softly at the sensation. you clenched around him to try and milk him for everything he had.

you laid on the floor with riki flopping next to you, both of you guys’s chests heaving. you were trying to catch your breath but it felt almost impossible. riki finally turned to look at you.

“you make me lose again and i’ll only be meaner to you.” he warned.

you took it as a challenge to distract him in his next match.

[its-time-to-write]

Hi!! I absolutely love yo he fics talk about carrying the Jamie tartt fic community 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

could you please write something about like the Richmond team being out at a bar and someone kissing Jamie and reader seeing and the chaos that ensues, hopefully with a happy ending but I trust whatever you want to do 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Haha hey, thanks! I write because I have a lot of things in my head, so thanks for enjoying it and for requesting!

Also I literally hate looking for gifs because I can never find the ones I want

wrote all your lines in the script in my mind

“Why did I let you drag me here?” you ask your absolute best friend the whole world, “I hate bars so much!”

Colin grins. “It’s good for you to get out of your flat and into the real world for a change. You’re getting all pasty.”

“I am not!”

You can’t help but catch onto his infectious mood. He’s still happy after scoring a winning goal, so he and Michael convinced you to go out with them even though it was almost a whole week ago. 

You and Colin had grown up together, kicking the football around his backyard until age ten, when you declared you were never playing with him again because he was “unbeatable.” 

You hate losing. 

You two had been inseparable, even at university. Colin was more outgoing, what with football and all. You were too, in your own way, but you hated bars. And going to the club. You said it was too many drunk, sweaty people but both Michael and Colin promised that it would be fun this time. 

“If I have to go, you have to go,” Michael had said to you. 

You had groaned, but acquiesced. You’re not too sure of your decision anymore, especially because of how many footballers are present.

The last time you were out with them, one of Colin’s teammates had taken it upon himself to flirt with you the entire night. And he flirted very well. Like, so well that you went home that night incredibly flustered. So well that it now occupied a permanent place in your brain. You played the moment he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear on repeat in your mind, like a tab on your laptop that you couldn’t bring yourself to close. 

And you told fucking Michael, who told fucking Colin, who then teased you about it mercilessly until you swore you’d tell the press about the Incident when you two were ten.

Colin shut up after that. 

Actually, that’s not entirely true. You’d go out to coffee and he’d say, “Saw your footballer today,” and you’d say, “He’s not MY footballer,” and Michael would ask, “Then why are you blushing?” so you’d respond, “I’m not blushing, it’s just hot in here, alright?”

Anyway, you’re at this fucking bar filled with fucking footballers and you catch yourself looking around the room for one in particular, and Michael catches you too. He doesn’t say anything, just winks at you and pulls Colin over to an open booth. 

You tell Colin all the time that you like Michael better than him. It’s because Michael knows the meaning of the word discretion. 

“I can be discreet,” Colin says. 

“And I can play football,” you reply.

Michael says you two bicker like a pair of siblings. He’s not wrong.

Right now, though, you’re not bickering. A few of Colin’s friends are filling in the booth. Sam slides in first, then Isaac, and then finally Jamie. 

Michael is sitting opposite Sam, then Colin, then you. 

You’re all squished in, ordering drinks and food, swapping stories and laughing like you’ve known each other for ages. 

You suppose you sort of have. 

You’ve known Colin the longest, obviously, but the next one is Isaac. You met him shortly after university because he was always around Colin. You met Sam once he signed for Richmond, and Jamie when he domineered the little triad of him, Isaac, and Colin. 

You really didn’t like Jamie. 

You told Colin all the time that he was a prick and a bully, but Colin wouldn’t listen. 

It actually was the cause for one of your biggest fights. You two didn’t speak for three months. 

Then Roy head-butted Colin and Jamie was gone, and you’re sure there are other details in between but whatever the case, Colin was at your doorstep with takeout and an apology. You watched Look Both Ways and argued about which was was the best. And that was that. 

When Jamie showed back up, you were less than thrilled. 

“If you fucking act like that prick again, I’ll fucking sabotage this date,” you had said. You were setting up Colin with a friend of yours named Michael. You didn’t know him incredibly well, but you had a lot of mutual friends who absolutely adored him. You were pretty sure he and Colin would click but you didn’t want Colin to act like a douche again. 

He didn’t. It worked out for him. 

Jamie knew who you were to a certain extent, which you suppose is why he was flirting with you that night at the club. Your distaste for him was evident, but you felt so uncomfortable in that environment. You were sitting alone, trying to make yourself invisible, when a tipsy Jamie found you and began to make it his mission to get you to a) smile and b) not hate him. He succeeded at both, as well as secret mission c) make you blush and fall madly in love with him. (Not that he knew that option existed.)

But he did that with all the girls, so you tried not to let it go to your head. 

It did anyway, which is why you’re sitting in this booth in this bar trying not to look at his perfect face for to long and pretending you don’t notice that his foot is resting next to yours under the table. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” he says, pushing himself up. You can’t help but notice the glint of his thin gold chain and the way his shirt hugs his bicep. Colin pokes you under the table. 

You look back to the group and try to immerse yourself in the conversation, but you are far too distracted. Your eyes keep flicking to Jamie. 

Jamie, as he orders a drink. Jamie, as he laughs to the bartender, Jamie as he… kisses a fit blonde girl in a tight skirt?

You look back to your table, eyes fixated on the chips in front of you. Oh. You suppose that settles things then. 

You close the tab in your mind and try to muster up some of the old dislike you had for Jamie. It’s not really working, because all you can think about is how he drunkenly waxed poetic about your eyes and told you he had liked them even when they were angry. 

This is the first time you’ve seen him since that night, so it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. What were you expecting, for him to soberly declare his love? Maybe Colin had over-hyped the way he said Jamie had asked about you the next day. Maybe he was exaggerating when he said he caught Jamie looking at the picture of you and Colin from uni that Colin had taped to his locker. 

Maybe you were looking for something real in someone who was just looking for the next good time. 

It doesn’t matter though, because it was just a crush. That’s what you tell yourself as you get up and tell the table you’re going to get some fresh air. “Too many sweaty boys,” you say with a nose wrinkle, and a squeeze to Colin’s hand that means I’m feeling anxious and need cold air. 

You’re breezing out the door by the time Jamie returns, hair slightly tousled and frazzled expression. Michael and Colin exchange a look.

—

Meanwhile, you’re outside freezing just a little bit. The cold air is a welcome shock to your system, so you don’t mind the way you’re shivering. You take a deep breath, envisioning your lungs expanding to the point of popping. Your breath comes out in a whoosh, and you feel the anxiety beginning to dissipate. You stand, back against the bar wall, puffing cold air into the sky for a long time, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. 

You’re outside so long, that when the door opens and you hear footsteps coming toward you, you’re sure it’s Colin or Michael coming to make sure you haven’t been murdered. 

“You plannin’ on freezing to death?” asks a voice that is neither Colin nor Michael. The owner of said voice leans against the wall next to you, mirroring your position. He’s so close you can feel heat radiating off his body, but you’re not quite touching. 

You shake your head. “No, I’m not,” you hear yourself saying, “I just got a little anxious and the cold air is good for me, so… here I am.”

Jamie makes a concerned hm and nothing else. He just stands there next to you, not touching but still too close. 

“Why are you out here?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Thought you’d be inside. Looks like you met someone interesting. She might be missing you.” 

There’s no malice in your tone. You’re just stating facts as an observer. As a friend, maybe. The only thing that colors your words is just a hint of sadness. You’re sure Jamie won’t register it. 

He grimaces and shakes his head. “Ain’t my friend. Some fan who thinks it’s fucking cool to kiss a footballer. Weren’t paying attention, otherwise I could’ve blocked it. I fucking hate it when that happens. It’s like, they don’t even see me as a real person. Just a sexy lad they can do whatever with.”

You chuckle at the way he says “sexy lad.” It reminds you of the way he had told you he had been a “wee sexy baby.”

“That fucking sucks,” you say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, otherwise I wouldn’t have said it like that.” You’re taking deep, calming breaths, still trying to get rid of that anxious feeling. 

Jamie just shrugs. He makes no indication that he’s going to continue speaking so you ask, “So, is that why are you out here, then? Is it to get away from her? Because if anyone should have to leave, it’s her. Pretty sure we could talk to someone and get her kicked out.”

You shiver, cold air beginning to seep through your coat. Jamie closes the gap between you, his bicep pressing against yours. You stifle another shiver, this one not from cold. 

“Nah,” he replies, “that’s not why I’m here. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Oh. That’s weird. “Why didn’t Colin or Michael come?”

Jamie shrugs again. “Colin said some shit about fuckin whatever and Michael said the same fuckin shit, so…” he trails off. 

You look up at him. “Jamie. You’re not making any fucking sense. I don’t know if it’s the cortisol flowing through my body or if you’ve had too much to drink, but you have got to be a whole lot clearer.”

That seems to get his attention, and bring him back to the reality that you two are outside, in the fucking cold, and he’s chatting with you as if nothing is wrong. 

Jamie puffs out a breath, watching it coil into the air. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, then settles on: “I ain’t drunk.”

You’re still looking at him. He’s right. He’s stone-cold sober. 

“I wanted to make sure you were alright. Colin said that you’d probably rather see me than him so… I dunno, I fucking came out here. I’ve been thinking about you ever since the last time we talked.”

Your cheeks flush bright red, and you’re grateful for the night sky. You keep taking your deep breaths. 

Jamie continues, “You flirted with me for fucking five seconds, and it’s like- I forgot you hated me. Didn’t care about anything anymore, you just smiled at me fucking one time and I felt like I was floating.” He stares at the sky. “I fucking hate talking about feelings and shit, and you’re basically Colin’s sister, so I figured I didn’t have a chance. But I’ve been fucking head-over-heels since the first time you glared at me.”

You’re pretty sure this is an anxiety hallucination. That’s a thing, right?

Jamie is no longer staring at the sky, but looking at you. He breathes out a laugh. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make it weird.” He moves to go back inside but you grab his arm. 

“Jamie,” you say. The look on his face when you say his name is so hopeful, that you feel your heart shatter and reform almost instantaneously. “Jamie, you- you like me? You came out here because you like me? And that’s why you were drunkenly flirting with me last month?”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” 

Your hand is still on his arm, and you’re standing face to face. You’re still breathing heavily, but so is he. You slowly run your hand up his arm and cup his face. He’s staring at you, mere inches apart, as you stand on tiptoe to reach his lips.

He kisses you back with the hunger of a starving man, arms wrapped around your waist the moment your lips make contact. You’re pulling each other closer, forgetting the freezing cold, when you hear an, “Oi, boyo.”

It’s Colin and Michael, walking out from the bar, headed home. 

You and Jamie break apart and Colin points to him. “Break her heart, Michael and I will break your fucking legs.”

Jamie grins and nods, and you just roll your eyes. You’re going to have to tell them everything, but right now they’re walking away and it’s fucking cold, so Jamie’s pulling you back to him again to pick up where you left off. 

[gravehags]

dance of the seven veils

Pairing: Aether x f!Reader (Ghoul Bicycle Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT MDNI

Tags: ghoul rut, possessiveness, delirious fucking, ghoul knots, cirrus being a real one, aether beating that pussy up, biblical reference

Words: 1,972

Summary: The way you're moving your hips right now before him he'd do anything for you.

a/n: I WROTE AN ACTUAL FIC LMAO YAYYY i wasn't expecting to revisit the ghoul bicycle series in full fic form but what do you know. will probably do some of the other ghouls/ghoulettes rut/heat fics as well. because why not.

~~~

You look delicious.

Cumulus has you at the center of the living room, barefoot on the rug while he, Cirrus, and Rain watch. Your shirt is off and the bralette you wear is practically see-through. There’s a flush on your cheeks as you grin at the ghoulette before you who places her hands on your hips.

“You have to isolate your hip movements. Don’t just shake your ass, become aware of your abdominal muscles and how they shift.”

“I’m trying, ‘Lus! This is my first time belly dancing, give me a break!”

Cumulus gives you a faux-stern stare before matter-of-factly grabbing the waistline of your sweatpants and yanking them down to expose your belly. You burst out laughing and Aether’s brain is flooded with images of you in a myriad of positions, dripping and aching for him and him alone. Frustrated, he rubs at the base of his horns as his pants grow tight and Cirrus looks over at him with some concern.

“You good, Aeth?” she murmurs out of the corner of her mouth, and he’s thankful for her discretion.

“Yeah,” he whispers back, hoarse, “it’s uh…that time of the month.”

Cirrus’ eyes dart back and forth between him and you gyrating with your hands above your head, head thrown back in delight. A regular Salome. A bead of sweat slides down Aether’s temple and she nods.

“It’s only gonna get worse if you don’t do something about it, hon.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“She’s going to find out about it sooner or later. And out of all of us, you’re probably the best one to walk her through it.”

Aether scoffs and wipes his forehead.

“Don’t know about that, Cir. You have no idea the things I want to do to her right now.”

“Don’t I?” Cirrus smiles wanly, “I know what you’re like. And I also know she would go crazy for it.”

Aether grunts in response, eyes trained on the sway of your hips and the roll of your belly. Across the room, Rain says something that makes you double over laughing and he seethes with jealousy. When you straighten back up and make eye contact with him, smiling adoringly, he snaps. In an instant he’s up and striding the short distance to you and in one swift movement he bends down and slings you over his shoulder. You let out an undignified squawk as he storms from the room, the eyes of his packmates on his back.

Cirrus would explain.

He can hear you asking him questions but all he can focus on right now is getting you to your bed. When he finally reaches your room and opens the door it’s like a dam breaks within him. With a heavy thump he tosses you on the bed where you look up at him dazed and...was that arousal in your eyes?

“What the fuck was that about, Aether?”

You’re breathless, chest heaving. He must have one hell of a look on his face because you start scooting up the bed, creating some distance between the two of you. Before you can get too far though, he’s got you by both ankles and unceremoniously yanking your body back down towards him. You don’t squirm or fight to get away but instead peer at him with curiosity.

“Hey. Hey, Aeth. What’s going on?”

He squeezes his eyes shut hard enough that when he reopens them he sees stars.

“Has…has anyone else told you about ghoul ruts or heats?”

“Ruts? Heats? Like…like an animal?”

He’s definitely reading arousal in your tone now and his cock twitches in his too-tight pants.

“Yeah. Like an animal. Well my rut has started and if I’m entirely honest with you, all I want to do is stuff every hole you have with me and fuck you until it takes. You understand?”

Your jaw hangs open and your breath comes in uneven pants as you stare up at him before nodding.

“And…and all the others go through this?”

He nods as his hands slide up your calves and over your hips to reach the waistband of your pants.

“Do you want it?” The question is simple but he thinks if you say anything other than “yes” he’s going to lose his mind.

“Aether…unholy fuck yes, I want it. Come on honey, fuck me til I’m dripping.”

If his laughter in response is slightly crazed, you say nothing but grin back at him, lifting your hips so he can more easily undress you. You sit up and with a bit of finagling, manage to remove your bralette and fling it across the room. When he sees you fully nude, not for the first time but in a different light, his tail thrashes behind him and he drops to his knees.

“Thought–ah!” you gasp as he licks a stripe up the inside of your right thigh, “thought you were going to fuck me?”

“Oh, I am,” he smiles, lifting your thighs onto his shoulders, “but I need you nice and ready for me, angel. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Your little noise of intrigue is cut off when he spreads your cunt with his thumbs and delves his tongue inside you. Normally he would revel in this, take his time, but if he doesn’t find some relief soon he’s going to go mad. 

“Aeth!” you breathe as his nose nudges your clit, “Fuck, honey that’s it.”

Steadily his tongue fucks into you, pausing only for a moment to lap and suck at your clit. When your hand flies to the base of his horns he lets out a growl and his hips rut upwards. He pulls away with a lewd noise and replaces his tongue with two of his thick fingers.

“Look at you taking me so well already, beautiful,” Aether pants as he pistons and scissors his fingers inside your cunt, “Just wait til you see what I have in store for you.”

Your laugh is delirious as he viciously brings you to your peak, knees clenching on either side of his head and your hole spasming around his digits. 

“Fuck, Aeth, fuck,” you moan, hips bucking against his hand, “Need you. Need your cock, please.”

In an instant he pulls away and pulls his shirt off over his head. His pants follow and when your eyes land on the reddened, swollen head of his cock as it bobs heavy in front of him, you let out a needy whine. The sound makes his head spin and without a second thought he’s upon you, mouth seeking yours. You continue to make sweet little noises into his kiss, sucking the taste of yourself off his tongue, as his hips jerk against you. He wants to delight in sliding his tongue against your hardened nipples and peppering the tender flesh of your breasts in dark bruises but more than anything he needs to be inside you. With a growl he pulls himself away from you, your lips chasing his and he leans back on his haunches, hand sliding along his cock. When he takes the head and runs it through your slit he almost keels over, the feel of your hot slick enough to end him.

“Well go on, Aeth,” you grin coyly at him, head cocked, “Fuck me until it takes. Just like you said.”

There’s a snarl on his lips as he spreads you open and with one swift movement, slams inside of you. Your back arches into him and he sets a rough pace as he grabs your ankles and folds your legs up as far as your body allows him. The new angle makes you cry out, chanting his name as he fucks desperately into you. He’s always gone a little mad when he’s inside you but when it’s like this? When you so eagerly accept and want him when he’s at his most feral? It makes his head spin.

“So beautiful like this,” he grunts, hips slamming into yours, “so perfect and so beautiful and all mine.”

You must enjoy the possessive nature of his words from the way your cunt clenches around him and he grins down at you with all his teeth. Your lips attempt to form words but the way he fucks the breath from your lungs makes speech almost impossible. Almost.

“Aeth!” you hoarsely cry out, “Yours. I’m yours. Make me yours.”

Your words, the way your body yields to his touch, the way you’re gazing up at him with your pupils blown drives his hips forward. He knows he has to be bruising you, will take care of you later but for now his rut is too powerful to stop. He can feel it coming, feel it building at the base of his spine and sliding through his stomach. He tries to warn you but doesn’t quite know how, not with the way you continue to squeeze around him.

“L-love,” he stutters, “gonna k-knot you. Gonna–fuck–”

In an instant he feels the base of himself swell and watches your eyes go wide before they roll back in your head. His thrusts become tight and shallow watching you stretch to accommodate him.

“Aether! Fuck!” you finally manage to cry out, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He wants to laugh and tell you he quite literally can’t but the way your walls clench and spasm around him when you cum drive him over the edge. With a roar he cums, rope after rope, inside you, filling you up as he presses your bent legs further up. His brain goes fuzzy after a while as he finally relents and allows you to relax, his body collapsing against yours. Your breath is shaky in his ear as you stroke his sweat-drenched back.

“Got you. I got you, honey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek. “You did so well.”

He must be coming back to Earth because that makes him snort.

“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

You smile.

“If you like,” you say before placing a sweet but quick kiss on his lips, “I think you might be crushing my chest cavity, though.”

“Sorry,” he groans, shifting your bodies so they could lie side by side, “The uh. Knot takes a little bit to go down.”

You make a little noise of interest as you run your fingers through his damp chest hair.

“Satan, we’re lucky to have you. How did we get so lucky?”

That makes you roll your eyes and scoff.

“You’re lucky to have me, right. As if I’m not the one with ten adoring lovers who care deeply about me and my well-being. You want to talk about luck? There’s never been anyone luckier on the planet, Aether. I would choose all of you over everything and everyone.”

His heart aches as you lean in and brush noses with him before pressing your forehead to his and holding it there. For a sweet moment the two of you are content to simply listen to one another’s breathing when Aether shifts his hips and his cock slides from you.

“Unholy fuck,” you breathe, pulling away from him and rolling back onto your back. When you spread your legs, a gush of his seed spills from you and drips on the bed sheets. The sight of your reddened cunt slick with his cum makes a growl bubble from deep in his chest and you look over to him.

“That’s fucking hot,” you murmur.

“My cum or the noise I just made?”

“Both, love, but let me recover for a moment, yeah? And then you can bring me ice packs for the next week.”

“Darling, let me have you again and I’ll bring you the head of John the Baptist.”

And he does have you again.

Three more times that evening.

No saintly head necessary, his Salome graciously deems.

[oddballwriter]

Honey, I'm Home

Summary: Taking up the role of being your little househusband was something that Jake wasn't really expecting to enjoy so much, but man, does he really love it~

Warnings: Househusband Jake. Househusband kink. 

Author’s Snip: All of you liked my idea of a househusband Jake smut. So I'm giving you what you want. I was originally going to post this after the four fics/one-shots that I had you guys vote on but i thought why not, I kind of wrote it before I had the results in. Also, before any of you can say the joke... three voices come from the gramophone /ref.

Notes: In this, Jake is his own person instead of being an alter of Marc but was also formerly Khonshu's avatar until Khonshu decided to excuse him from his duties. Listen, you aren't here for all that, you're here for the househusband Jake smut. Also, yes, the reader knew about Khonshu when Jake was Moon Knight.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 688

The role and life of a househusband wasn't one that Jake expected to play out and live. What with his work in being the hand of justice for Khonshu. Needing to track down, run around, fight, extract information by any means necessary, and even kill. He's honestly surprised he managed to gain a spouse in that part of his life. So the idea of even slightly being a homebody was something that never crossed Jake's mind once. With him always having a mission, he would hardly have the ability to do house work.

So when Khonshu came and said that he was satisfied with Jake's work and wanted to release him from it and then promptly did, without much talk about it on Jake's part, Jake didn't really know what to do now.

You two had a talk about what Jake could do now with all this new free time. Sure, Jake now had time for more hobbies but there was still so much time on his hands. That was when you jokingly suggested that he should be a househusband. It was a good laugh for a minute until you off-handedly mentioned that you earned enough to support both of you so he could actually take on the role.

That's when Jake decided to give being a homebody a try for a month. And in that month, Jake swears that something just tapped into his brain and he enjoyed this kind of role. Sure, it wasn't easy. He had to stay on top of the chores and errands that needed to be done and do the cooking dinner. But there was something about doing all that work and seeing you come home with a smile on your face as you see him and the house that just completely rewired his brain. By the end of the month, he had an order for a nice apron placed and damn near bought the ones with cute frills on it, ready to be your little househusband. It really did something to him.

It wouldn't be until a while after adopting this lifestyle that Jake figured out that being your lovely little househusband also did something to him. He doesn't really know where it comes from. But it was there alright.

Maybe it was the idea in society that the person who was the homebody was supposed to be submissive to the breadwinner. Or the way you look when you walk through the front door coming home from work and have a tired smile cross your face when you see him and then say "There you are.". He definitely felt it when you would walk over to him and give him a hug with a kiss on the lips to go with it. Or that time you came home and hugged him from behind. He bent down to the pans he used to cook in the dishwasher after just plating dinner. You had let go of his waist so he could bend but you stood there for a bit and Jake's mind slipped into the dirty for a moment before returning them back and finishing the rest of the dishes, and then eating dinner with you. By god, he thought about that for a long time after that.

It didn't take you that long to figure it out though. You had actually caught on as soon as he started trying to hide his erections whenever you'd innocently call him your sweet little husband or something along those lines. After that, it would be something that you'd bring into the bedroom whenever you were in charge.

"My sweet little husband. So good to me. Always making sure the house is all tidy and clean for me when I come home. He deserves a reward for being so good~" you'd coo into his ear while he shook and panted from whatever you were doing to him. Sometimes you'd say "Let me take care of you since you take such good care of me and the house." and it would turn him into a complete mess.

Becoming a househusband has truly done something to Jake.

[juniperskye]

I Almost Do Pt. 2

Sneak Peek: Part 2 to a Song Fic I wrote using “I Almost Do” by Taylor Swift. One in which the reader faces the internal battle of how to express her feelings and fears to the man that she loves. Will they end up together again?

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 2563

Warnings: No use of y/n, age gap, mentions of anxiety, some language, mentions of food, mentions of pregnancy (kind of), mention of marriage, talk of past unhealthy relationship, talk of insecurities, let me know if I missed any!

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Part 1.

Aaron was ready to surrender all hope and go to bed when the three little dots appeared. He was anxious to see what you’d reply, but glad that you’d actually return his message this time around. He was quick to check his phone when it alerted him to a new message. A small smile broke out on his face when he read your reply…

You were shocked to see Aaron’s message to say the least. You had been hoping for this, practically begging for it last time you talked to Penelope, but now that it was happening, it was like your consciousness had left your body and was now looking down on you waiting for your brain to start firing off neurons and compute some sort of response to this man that you were hopelessly in love with. But you hesitated. Why did you hesitate? Why aren’t your fingers moving along the keys formulating a simple text telling Aaron that you too had been thinking of him and that you wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms.

That pit in your stomach. That sickly sinking feeling you get when you know you might be making the wrong choice, or when you are so nervous because you don’t know the outcome of the situation that hasn’t occurred yet. But you can’t know the outcome if you don’t take the leap. But…the nerves, the anxiety, that sickly sinking pit in your stomach…they nag at you, whispering “make the safe choice”, “make the choice in which we already know the outcome”, “don’t take unnecessary risks”.  

You shake your head; you can’t let fear keep you from the possibility of happiness. You can’t let these nerves, this anxiety, that sickly sinking pit in your stomach run your life. Not anymore. So, you won’t. For once you are going to let your heart decide.

Your fingers move to type out a reply, the nerves, anxiety, and that stupid pit in your stomach SCREAMING at you to turn back, delete the text, lock your phone and go to bed. You reread the text over and over again, questioning every individual character neatly placed within the confines of the grey tones plastered amongst the text screen, this is it. Send.

You: There is so much I want to say, but I am not entirely sure a text is the best way to express everything I am feeling right now. You have been on my mind nonstop lately and I miss you. And…that scares me.

Aaron couldn’t help but smile. This was one of the many things he loved about you, you tended to overthink and that led to rambling and nerves and fidgeting. Watching you in those moments was beautiful because you allowed him to see a vulnerable piece of you and it was warm and intimate, and it was you. He could practically feel your racing heart and shaking hands through his phone. He knew what it meant for you to share that you were scared, it was something that had been brought up early on in your relationship.

**Aaron would notice that after sustaining an injury while on a case, you tended to shut down for a short while (usually until there were obvious signs of healing) and when he confronted you about it, you had broken down. Everything about your relationship with Aaron had terrified you. He had come into your life with the force of a battering ram, you had been swept off the hinges, your once secure defenses all came crumbling down. You wept, hot salty tears paving tracks down your cheeks, hiccupping out apologies.

A flash of panic had crossed Aaron’s features, quickly melting into concern and gentle shushing. Him telling you that there was no need for apologies. He simply wanted to know what had you in such a state. He held you until you had calmed, and you finally explained to him that you would shut him out because that was easier than admitting that you loved him so much that it physically hurt. When he came home with cuts, bruises, gunshot wounds, stab wounds, hell, after nearly being blown up, you felt this wave of nausea along with earth shattering pain that one of these times it wouldn’t be him calling you to inform you he was on his way, but a call from Dave or Derek or maybe even Penelope to let you know that he was gone forever. That he would never look at you with those beautiful whiskey eyes. He’d never pull you closer and nuzzle his nose into the nape of your neck in the early hours of the morning. He’d never kiss your knuckles or call you sweetheart ever again, and you couldn’t live with that.

You told Aaron that you had never felt this way before, that you had come to learn that your soul was not your own, but it belonged to him. The two of you were written in the stars and you had figured it out the moment you met him. Aaron hugged you then, reassuring you that he was okay, and things would work out. For a moment you believed him, and things were okay…until they weren’t.**

Aaron wanted so badly to call you up, tell you to come over…but he knew that it wouldn’t be that easy. Things between you had been left shattered, fragile shards of glass so thin that you can’t pick up the pieces without making a bigger mess of things. He knew he needed to tread lightly, careful not to put too much pressure on you and make sure you knew he would move at whatever pace you were comfortable with.

Aaron: How would you like to meet up for lunch? We can talk about things, see where that leads? You: Yeah, ok. Lunch sounds good. Aaron: Are you free tomorrow? I have a mandatory day off.

You scoffed at his message. Aaron despised mandatory days off, he always made sure to bring case files home so he could review and revise them on these days. He had said it felt like a waste of time, that there was no point in sitting around and doing nothing all day while I was out at work. Your thoughts were interrupted by the alert of another message coming in.

Aaron: I don’t know why I even suggested it, I know you work on Fridays. I can schedule a day off for this weekend. You: Tomorrow works for me. I actually got a promotion, so my schedule is different now. We can catch up on that later though. Is 12:30 alright?

Aaron felt a pang in his chest. He hadn’t known that you’d been up for a promotion at work, and he wonders when that even happened. Had it been back when he was letting his work consume his entire life? Had he completely zoned out during a conversation in which you would’ve excitedly told him about this new position and all the doors it could open for you in your career? Or had this been a change you’d felt you needed post breakup to keep your mind occupied? He would find out, and he would make up for it either way because damnit this ache he is feeling right now is horrible and he doesn’t think he could handle feeling this way forever.

Aaron: Oh, congratulations! 12:30 is great. Maggie’s? You: Thanks. Maggie’s sounds good. See you tomorrow.

You internally cursed Aaron for choosing Maggie’s. That had been your place, he had intentionally picked it because of your shared history there, you were sure of it. Maggie’s was where you had your first official date, it is where he said he loved you for the first time, Maggie’s was the home of many conversations of the future you two thought you’d share.

You thought about texting Aaron back telling him that you’d rather go to that new café on Grand. Somewhere neutral to your relationship but you ultimately decided against it. You figured it was time to go to bed, heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth when your phone went off again.

Aaron: See you tomorrow.

Aaron had hoped that his choosing of Maggie’s would put you at ease, somewhere familiar and comfortable. He was anxious to see you, worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from pulling you in to him the second he saw you. After you had left that night, he had realized that you had brought so much into his life, you brought this warmth and radiated this vibrancy that he had grown accustomed to, so when you ended things his life went back to the cold, dull mundane that it had previously been. He hoped tomorrow would be good, that things would take a turn for the better.

Aaron: Goodnight You: Goodnight Aaron.

You were shocked that you slept through the night. You wondered if that was a sign that today was going to be a good day. That you would meet up with Aaron and things would go exactly as they are meant to. The universe has a plan…right? You needed to get ready for this lunch. Taking a deep breath and a quick stretch, you mentally prepare yourself. It’s just Aaron, he knows you better than anyone, things would be okay.

You took some time getting ready. Wanting to be in a positive head space you figured some self-care would be a great place to start. You took a shower, styled your hair, put on some light makeup and got dressed. You had debated wearing something that you knew would get a reaction out of Aaron but decided against it. Opting for something comfortable, you threw on your favorite pair of jeans and a thick knit sweater. You paired this outfit with your favorite jewelry and some loafers. Checking the time, you grabbed your purse and keys and made your way out the door. The ride to Maggie’s was all too familiar, muscle memory taking you there, allowing you to get lost in your thoughts.

Nerves, anxiety and that sickly sinking pit in your stomach, you anticipated their arrival. Only, they didn’t come. When you arrived at Maggie’s, you parked and made your way to the door. They still hadn’t made themselves present. Part of you wondered if it was because your body was waiting to hit you with all of those feelings in the form of Aaron standing you up, but that thought slipped your mind the moment you saw him stand and wave you over.

You walked over to him, his body twitched in such a way that you knew he wanted to hug you but also knew it wouldn’t be appropriate. Not now anyway. He gestured for you to sit, and you did. He looked so good. Tired, maybe even a little sad, but still so damn good. You looked to each other to begin what was to be an awkward dance of small talk until one of you opened the flood gates of the conversation that would determine the outcome of all this.

“We have known each other far too long to indulge in small talk. I think it is best if we just lay it all out on the table.” Aaron began.

“Agreed. But we should probably order first, I am starving, and I would hate to entangle our server in this discussion.”

“Good idea.” Aaron agreed and flagged the waitress down.

You placed your orders and ended up making some small talk waiting for the food to come. When it did arrive, Aaron politely asked our server that we be left alone for a while. He did it in that charming way that he does, he has always had a way with words, and with people.

“I think I should start. I made a lot of mistakes and some of which were selfish, and they hurt you in ways that I will never be able to make up for. But I need you to know that I am so sorry for shutting down and not communicating with you. I don’t want to make excuses, God knows nothing can excuse my actions, but I do want to explain that I let immature teasing from Dave and Derek get the better of me. It struck some insecurities within myself that I thought I had overcome but seemingly hadn’t.” Aaron shook his head at himself.

“Wait a minute, what teasing? What insecurities? Why are you just now telling me all of this?”

“Derek had asked me about our future, if we would get married, and if you would want children. I told him I wasn’t sure but that you and I would work through that together as it came up in our relationship. That is when Dave chimed in and kindly reminded me that I am quite a bit older than you and if we did have children, well, at their graduations you would look like their mother, and I would look more like their grandfather. Sweetheart I know that we had talked about the age difference, and you’ve made it very clear that it doesn’t change your feelings for me, but I can’t help but wonder if I am holding you back from a life that you deserve.” Aaron’s eyes grew misty.

“Aaron, I know that we haven’t talked about all that, but I think that was kind of the biggest fault in our relationship. We took things day by day, and while that can be a beautiful and exciting thing, it doesn’t allow for growth since you don’t know what you are aiming for. I would love to get married and have children, and have a beautiful life with you, but the truth is, we don’t know what the future holds. We can’t be certain that we would even be able to conceive, or that we will be together forever. But if I have learned one thing over these last few months, it is that I get to choose to take the leap. So, there is something I am certain of, and that is my love for you. It hasn’t changed, but I need you to open up to me as I have for you. I need you to communicate with me Aaron and I need you to be all in. What do you say?”

Aaron looked to you with bright eyes, hope shining through. In his eyes you could see forever, you just needed him to jump in. You were shocked at how bold you had been, but it was as if a fog had cleared the moment you stepped foot into Maggie’s. You heart and head in perfect sync telling you, this is it. You were meant to take this risk and be happy.

It was up to Aaron. Would he be willing to push aside his insecurities and jump into this once and for all?  Could the fact that the two of you had the last five months to grow and mature and reflect on your wrongdoings be enough to thrust your forward into a healthy successful relationship? Would any of that even matter? Would Aaron leap? You sat with bated breath awaiting his reply, silently willing him to say something, grab you and just kiss you, something! But then he spoke…

“I’m all in sweetheart.”

[nostradamus0]

17-18-19 pls! :D

oooh thank you! :)

these ones are a bit tricky since i've only actually posted one fic (and it's woefully unfinished) this year, because i've been super busy writing things that i never finish, so i'm going to interpret this liberally and include things i haven't technically finished yet, but are at least 50% written.

my favorite opening line that i've written this year! oof, i have no idea. after some pondering, i think it might be:

It has always been that 108 Mifflin Street is Henry’s home, and never truly felt like hers until he was there with her, scattering his toys across the living room and the plastic baby plates and bowls across the counter. Filling the bookshelves with board games and comic books, and covering the walls with the first photographs Regina had ever owned or taken. She learned to use a camera to capture his smile.

but i'm also incredibly fond of the first line in a very in-progress follow-up to a oneshot i wrote for supercorptober like, 2 years ago lol

Lena meets her son in the middle of the night on the last day of August, with flowers growing from her palms and the smell of house-fire smoke hanging heavy in the air. He’s four years old and terribly alone, and there’s drywall dust and white ash clinging to his hair like snow.

favorite ending line might be even harder, oh no. a lot of my favorite "ending" lines are technically the end of a fic, but they end sections or chapters, so they're kinda-but-not-totally ending lines if that makes sense? hmmmmmmm.

i really like this line that ends the first section of desire as round as peaches bloom in me all night:

(And if she’s fallen a little in love with Meredith, somewhere along the telephone wires between Seattle and L.A., well. It hardly matters now.)

but also this line from the sequel/alt. pov fic i've been writing to your voice is the splinter inside me:

This is the moment she knows there are memories she has lost. It feels like only moments ago that she watched that horrible yellow bug drive across the town line with the only people in the world who gave a damn about her, who trusted and believed there was something good in her heart. Purple smoke, crackling with magic, had swallowed the sky, and they were gone. After that, Regina can remember nothing but crushing grief.

for my favorite piece of dialogue, i almost chose a line from my recent meddison fic that i really like, but instead i have to go with this scene from the yvitsim sequel:

Regina hates that she cannot remember changing. But she knows she has, if only because Snow shows up, unannounced and uninvited, and rather than incinerate her on the spot, Regina puts the kettle on the stove and doesn’t insult her god-awful pastel sweater. She busies herself with readying two mugs while Snow sits at the counter and taps her fingers on the marble.  Eventually, Snow sighs, and after taking a long sip of the tea Regina offers her, she asks: “Do you think it’s odd that Emma and Henry are staying at Granny’s? There’s plenty of room at the loft.” There is not plenty of room at the loft, Regina thinks, but does not say. It has also occurred to her as odd, that Emma would prefer a sub-par bed and breakfast over her parents house, but felt it was none of her business, and kept her mouth shut. But now she looks at Snow, at the large swell of her belly and the hand she always seems to have resting there, and it doesn’t seem so odd anymore. Regina sighs. “Give her time, Snow,” she says simply, leaning against the counter. “She’s adjusting.” “Adjusting to what?” Snow asks, looking confused, and gods, Regina thinks. How can a fully cognizant adult be so oblivious? “You’re eight months pregnant, Snow,” she deadpans. Snow’s shoulders drop, and the expression on her face turns heavy and sad. For a moment, Regina fears Snow will start crying, and that she’ll have to do something truly horrifying like comfort her. Undo it undo it undo it her brain shouts at her, almost panicky.  “He kicks. In his sleep, Henry kicks,” she blurts out rather awkwardly. “Emma’s probably trying to avoid sharing a bed with him at the loft.” Snow smiles sadly at her, like she doesn’t believe a word of it, but appreciates the gesture nonetheless. Regina, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable, skin crawling with old, unwanted instincts to lash out, clears her throat and busies her hands with mixing her cup of tea.

this was VERY difficult, but very fun. thank you for the ask! :)

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Wylan Whump Fic bc i am predictable af xD

My friend! ❤️ I’ve been working backwards through the second chapter, but I wrote the beginning of it just for you!

The darkness was an oppressive thing. It weighed down his eyelids. His blood felt sluggish and thick in his veins.

And when he finally managed to pry open his eyes, the light felt like daggers.

All that Jesper knew in that moment was that his fucking head hurt. It throbbed like it had its own heartbeat, white hot pain radiating out from his left temple. Up was down and down was up, he could scarcely even tell where his feet were. Was he lying down? Had someone sat him up? It left him fumbling and disoriented, made his gut roil, flipping and twisting– it was only by some minor miracle he hadn’t been sick.

He breathed through a long few seconds with his eyes screwed shut, just barely squinting as he adjusted to the lamps in… wherever he was.

It wasn’t the Slat. It wasn’t anywhere he recognized.

If he could think logically– or see normally– he’d be rolling his eyes at how dim those painful lamps actually were. Their ember-like glow wasn’t from any type of window or opening, emanating instead from dusty looking, cracked sconces fixed to the walls. They were nestled between dug-in shelves. Dug-in because, the more he blinked the world into focus, Jesper could tell they were made of packed earth.

This was some type of cellar. The world was coloured in shades of shadowy brown and grey, and it would be hard to see even if he was in the best of conditions– something he was not. But he could feel the soil under his hand, caking itself under his nails as he clawed weakly into the floor where he had been dropped. It smelled like a cool spring night on the farm– tilled earth, a fallow field with nothing planted yet. What was different, though— made his lungs feel tight and ache for home— was the musty, recirculated quality to the air. It was cold, but still. Stagnant. Like Black Veil.

Jesper shivered even as he felt something warm drip down his cheek, and wondered idly if he was sweating or bleeding.

His brain stayed a foggy, thoughtless thing, for even longer than his eyes stayed bleary and burning. It wasn’t until his body adjusted to the new, elevated baseline of pain that the throbbing started to ease off. Dimly, he acknowledged his own body, taking stock— his hat and gun belt were gone; he was stripped down to his trousers, waistcoat and shirt, and it made him shiver. Whoever had taken him had thrown him carelessly to the dirt floor, leaving him a heap on his side. There was no doubt that he was already bruising. And then there were his hands and feet— his wrists and ankles felt heavy and rubbed raw, but he hadn’t thought about it too hard. Not until just then, when a feeble kick of his legs sounded like clinking metal. He blinked down to where he’d dug into the dirt, and his followed the chain of his shackled hands.

Shit.

He remembered the acrid tang of blood and smoke, chemical compounds tingeing the air as he pushed open the workshop door. The apology he was rehearsing abruptly trailed off as he took in the state of the place.

And the state of Wylan.

Wylan.

Across the small room, crumpled into a dead-looking heap of scrawny limbs and singed curls, was a body. A Body. The thought was unthinkable but he couldn’t turn his mind off of the terrible chant of it– dead, dead, he’s dead, his brain uselessly supplied. The body was so still, one ghostly pale hand laying limply out toward Jes with something rusty smudged into the fingertips. The body was still faceless, fully hidden in the crook of an elbow and a careless flop of curls– but Jesper would know him anywhere. That unmistakable, untamable hair; that too-big overcoat; the slender line of his hand with those precise fingers.

It had to be some trick. Some terrible trick by some… who would do this? Any of it?

“Wy—“ his voice was nothing but a ragged croak, but there wasn’t much moisture in his throat to help him clear it. It hurt, fuck, everything hurt. “Wylan, Wylan! Wake up! WYLAN?”

Yeehawwwww hopefully the chapter will be up soon! Thanks for playing! ❤️❤️❤️

[heroes-fading]

🌻🌈💌

for the ask game!!! also rest love <33333

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

so i actually did give up on writing for about a solid six years. life happened, at the time writing was an outlet for a lot of unpleasant stuff in my life i had no control over, so once the locus of control moved inwards i felt like i didn't "need" it anymore. after watching episode 8 of the last of us i literally could not stop thinking about it. there was no reddit thread, no podcast episode, nothing that could scratch that itch i hadn't felt in so long. i started reading fic again (and i remember very fondly embarassed and admitting that i got back into reading fic again and my husband was like "haha how long until you write it again" and i was like "I'M NOT" and well two days later i said sure).

getting back into it has been the biggest surprise and i think a part of me has always missed it and forgotten how much i LOVED writing. i made a joke to my therapist the other day of "oh, now i don't write romantic fanfiction because i'm fufilled in that department, but my daddy issues...oh daddy issues are FOREVER" and it's a joke but it's a true joke.

having a piece of yourself you can write about in some way, something that hits at something for all of us and maybe is why we're all in this space of community together, has been so special. i love writing so much, i love characterization, i love getting into the heads of these characters, i love community with folks and these feelings.

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

inordinary was very special and weird for me because it lived in my head for about two weeks before i ever put anything down for it. i started imagining it in the gym on the goddamn treadmill with headphones on and i was like "okay musicians au that's silly i don't think i could make that work" and while on a work trip i just starting writing notes in margins and laying in a hotel bed and just. thinking about it. running circles in my head about it. and eventually i gave up and wrote about half of it on the plane ride home. i was like "this will be weird. people won't like it. but my brain will not shut the fuck up about it, so, fine"

so the fact that people did like and resonate with it, that people took that leap of faith there, means a whole lot to me <3

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

lmao i'm gonna be real the drive has been empty, it's been so chaotic with work + travel i've had a dry well. BUT. i have had some things lingering around, ideas i'm not sure i'll flesh out more (do we need another modern foster care au? i'm unsure) but here's something:

no idea what i'm doing with it, maybe nothing, maybe something

THANK YOU <3

[claudiajcregg]

I love these! (Doing and asking :) 🙅‍♀️ 🤔 🏅☀️

Grrr. Tumblr ate the mostly written post because of course it did. Thank you for asking, Mia 💕 These were really fun to answer (and also hard). For someone who's really her worst critic, I do enjoy talking about my process and whatnot. I'm sorry in advance for all the rambling.

(If you want to ask me more, the questions are here ✨ )

🙅‍♀️ What is one trope you refuse to ever write?

I just don't see myself doing incest or bestiality. If we're talking more general things, I can't see myself writing cheating (with the asterisk of this being one member of the couple straying, and that there are possible situations where I wouldn't mind). Also, anything extremely violent, mostly because it's not something I often consume in media.

🤔 What’s one genre you’ve never written that you’d like to try?

Oh, maybe action and/or suspense? My writing style (intimate moments, conversations, just vibes) is not the most compatible, but if the situation arose... Sure! (I guess that, in a past life, I wrote around mysteries and crime and whatnot. I was too young then 😬 )

I also would love to be better at writing stories-within-stories. I absolutely do not have the talent to convincingly seem like the talented writers I'm doing. (Once again thinking of the fluffy memoir fic. And another one, which has a super fun premise, but my writing is failing it with this aspect, I fear.)

And not a genre specifically but collaboration? Again, I have super talented friends. I'd stick out like a sore thumb. I think it'd be fun!

🏅 What is the fic you’re most proud of?

I am my own worst critic but I would still probably say all of them, maybe? I saw something in them that I thought might connect with others and that's why they're out there. Even the ones that aren't (so many of them) and might never see the light of day. Writing isn't easy. It makes me nervous and makes me crave validation.

Anyway. The pageant answer is still true but as for actual ones, but using the way I would mentally refer to them, lol.

Big Block of Cheese 2008. I just saw it's at almost 100 kudos... excuse me what. I just felt it was something special from the moment I wrote it. I think I always would've posted it at some point, even if I hadn't made friends. None of my fics come close to it in terms of "love" and tbh, I'm fine with it.

St. Augustine. Just because it came to me so fast (I think it was mostly written in a morning?) and IDK, I love the scene. This one has broken out from most of my other purely CJD stories, whether it was timing or it getting recommended by the right people. It was nerve wracking writing something pre-canon but I think it went well! It was fun to write. I haven't read it in forever so I reserve the right to remove it from the list.

Obviously, star shine started it all but if I had a third spot... Portland. It's probably one of my flops (everything is, but this one especially) and yet. I recall being so proud right after I finished it and wanting people to read it. (It obviously grew since then because I can't shut up.) It's long, maybe unnecessarily so, but god does it get to me. I was in a writing rut (see next answer) and challenged myself to write 'canon' stories, and I think the two are good.

But... To be honest, the answer has to be my unposted multichapter. I always think it's bad until I read it, and it kinda hits, all imperfections aside. 150k words in 5-and-a-bit months (26/3 to 2/9?), 33 chapters. I wrote 2/3 of that in two months (with 19 being the last one I wrote before 19/5), until my muse decided she was done and I decided to actually change jobs. (I also wrote now-published fics like haunted by the notion or don't want you to go, as well as a bunch of other smaller ones, in between! WTF was I on in 2021? I think the mini reunion altered my brain chemistry.) I've considered just dropping a link to the unedited, unbetaed drive on the server one day, ngl.

ANYWAY. Too long-winded!

☀️ Has anyone ever left you a comment that made your day? What did it say?

UM. All of them? real talk here, I don't get many comments so I love them all. I write for a show that ended 17 years ago, for a small (and surprisingly divisive) ship (their loss - there's so much talent) so I should've known going in. It took me some time to internalize it. I'm also not that good a writer, so I'll take it. Comments mean the world to me, even if it's a "lovely" or "great job." Just taking a few seconds means a lot and writers aren't kidding when they say it's motivating. It's also how I've made friends in the fandom so yeah! comments!

To highlight some rather recent ones!

Haunted by the notion got so many from so different people, and they were all so incredibly nice when I was terrified. All of those broke me, and might be the reason why I've been struggling with a followup! (And why I've been wanting to post again soon, rather than wait.) From the other stories, I have two ~recent ones~ I actually bookmarked because they broke me.

miabicicletta's (💕 ) on St. Augustine. I woke up on a Saturday and I remember reading it from bed and crying. It was so incredibly kind and lovely and I couldn't remember the last time anyone had written anything as long. I still think about it all the time. 🥂 (I've now realized Steph also wrote another lovely one ♥️ That story and the love it got, man.)

krazykitkat's on all's well + her comment on St. Augustine because her stories are some of my favorites. I couldn't believe that someone whose work I adored and have read countless times since I finished the show six years ago had read one of my stories, but had liked it???? Didn't compute. Doesn't compute. She's read many since (see St. Augustine, the most recent one), commented and left kudos on a bunch, and it still... blows my mind. (This one happened while I was flying back from Stockholm and was the first thing I saw when I landed.)

But really - so many people have left so many kind messages over the last couple of years, and I've probably gotten emotional at all of them. That there are people out there who are reading the silly little stories that have come out of my brain... wonders never cease.

[its-all-papaya]

🧽 the dishes (AMA about any of my published writing)

how did you come up with your works? and is it easier with a 'let's start and see where this ship takes me' situation or an 'rough outline/concept existing' situation?

heyyyy i had a Bad Long day at work and gave myself a headache so i did HALF the dishes and i'm counting it for now.

↠ please make me do my chores

this is kind of two separate questions to me, so starting with how i come up with my stuff: like, idea wise, it usually just manifests? i've talked about anybody, nowhere extensively i feel (this is a good post about how it came to be), but yeah, that one kind of just appeared in my brain and wouldn't shut up until i wrote it. i read a lot of everything rpf-wise at that point, and landoscar was already one of my favorites, but it wasn't until AFTER writing them there that i got the real brain rot. that was more lando-centric motivation and oscar crept in of his own volition. i also didn't actually plan to write the hollow hereafter, but the afternoon after hungary i like... Had to Do Something about the feelings of that race, so that's how that one was born. the devil in me came from a prompt here, and most of my wip's have come from vague ideas that i've been discussing with someone until they spiral out of hand and excite me enough that the word doc gets opened.

in terms of outlining... yes? and no? i usually have a pretty rough idea of the general progression of events i want to include in a fic when i start writing it, but i don't generally hard outline any of them. anybody, nowhere is the closest to an exception there i guess, because i put all the races and their important events in a bulleted list and worked through so i could remember all the like... big points? i.e. that austria was a sprint, that its free practices were bad for lando, that silverstone would have a bunch of fan stuff ahead of time, etc. that still wasn't an outline because i didn't decide what situations i was going to fully write out vs. gloss over OR what would happen between lando and oscar at any point, i just kind of went with the flow. my most common method for writing is deciding a beginning and an end point, sometimes a few points in the middle, and then just trying to connect all that. like i knew i wanted THH to end on the flight back with them not-fighting and not-solving and instead cuddling, but I didn't decide to write the debrief and hand-holding until i was at that point in the fic and was like "i need some actual plot to break up the monologue."

so...yeah? hope that answered your questions well enough! i'm kind of all over the place, but i mostly write in order, going off what feels right and necessary for the characters based on what i've done with them up to that point.

thanks!!

[author-chan06]

Remus Sanders & Me

Remus Sanders:

General Personal Info:

Name: Remus Octo Royals

Age: 29

Pronouns: Any, Including Neos

Gender: Agender

Orientation: Panromantic, Pansexual

From: Sanders Sides

Canon Compliant Personality? Mostly

Relationship With Me: Brother, Lover

Backstory Of Us:

I started watching Sanders Sides around, uh I’d say around the end of 2021/beginning of 2022, and it didn’t take me long to get through the entire series and any other content I could get my hands on. You could say I was obsessed, which is pretty common for me honestly but this one lasted a bit longer than normal and was even more intense (the only one that got close before would be my BatJokes obsession)

But eventually that dropped away, also normal, though I still sometimes watched it again for comfort or read fics and looked at fanart, just not all the time and it wasn’t the only think I read/watched. So that should be the end of it, right? I thought so at the time too. But it wasn’t.

The longer I interacted with the fandom and the longer I wrote for it the more something felt… off. And then I started reading remrom.

I found authors that write it really well, and I started shipping it avidly, even writing my own little things and thinking about it.

That’s when the memories started up. They were sporadic and they weren’t very detailed, yet, but I started remembering a life I’d never lived, I started remembered doing things that I’d never done before. I started remembering doing things that were physically impossible.

I started remembering life as Roman, one of Thomas’ sides, and I was confused, worried, and I felt a bit like I was losing it. I don’t believe in reincarnation, or even an afterlife, so these memories were… worrying. I worried for a while, until eventually I started getting used to the memories, until I started getting used to the way my mind immediately responded to things about Roman as if they were talking about me.

Now don’t get me wrong, I still don’t believe in reincarnation and I don’t think I actually used to be Roman. But I’ve stopped trying to fight the idea that my brain likes. So now I let myself respond to the Roman stuff and I treat the memories like they’re real even though it’s probably just a trauma coping mechanism.

And one of the things I remember from when I was Roman was that Remus and I were dating. I was sort of dating the others as well, but Remus and I were more official and more serious, romantic wise. We had been sort of dating as children and as adults, after all the events you guys saw in canon, we decided to fuck it all and made it official. After a while. Perhaps about two years after canon got to? That sounds about right, even if time is fuzzy from back then. And we were… good. Despite the whole incest thing, or pseudo-incest I suppose. I’m still not sure how exactly that works, after we got together officially we just stopped thinking about it, as I — I admit, guiltily— still felt morally dirty about our relationship.

We were inseparable, just like we used to be, and we often cuddled and sometimes, when one of us was feeling especially awful, we would squeeze each other hard and squeeze our eyes shut and pretend we were still the King, that we were still together like that, that we had never been ripped apart, that we were whole again.

I don’t remember how Thomas died, or what exactly happened, but I remember vague things into our older ages before it just… ends.

And then here I am.

It’s a bit strange. Like I didn’t know any of these things, I didn’t remember anything until I watched the series, but well, once I started remembering, I couldn’t stop. And then I started missing the others. I missed Remus and the closeness we had. The understanding that we shared without even trying. The wholeness that we only got when we were together. Without him I felt so… lost, in pain, hollow. I didn’t know how to handle it other than looking at remrom stuff, looking at people who loved us, watching the others go through things I remember and listening to our songs on repeat.

Until I found the Tumblr selfship community not long ago. Now I’ve started using that to cope with the grieving/longing for the others that has stabbed so darkly into me at all times even if I wasn’t thinking about it. Now I let myself think that Remus would still love me this way, that he still loves me and cares and that we’re still together. He’s still my brother/lover to this day, and he will always be important to me.

Even if in this world he is fictional to everyone else, she will never be only fictional to me.

Relationship Info:

Anniversary: June 25th

Ship Name: #remrori

^ Made by canineluvz

[shut-upjohn]

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

72.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

245,015.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Really on L&O. I have other fandoms but thus far my writing muse is picky and doesn’t run with a lot of other universes.

4. What are you top five fics by kudos?

Unmarked File, Reassurance, Taken?, When the Lights Go Down in the City, and The Last Thing I’ll See, in that order.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try my absolute best but I do have this bad habit of reading comments via email and then thinking I’ll respond later when I’m on AO3, and then completely forgetting to do that. But I do see and appreciate them all <3

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh…

Jury’s out? I think “In Love With The Night” is the only fic I ever stuck to killing EO off in, but it was a very considerate death. I personally think “falling in between the lines” is one of the worst. It’s bittersweet but unapologetically about unresolved grief/love.

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

Cheesy happy or earned happy? There are a lot of little random ones that make me happy (Baby Blue) but then there are more climatic ones I love (Lights).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Occasionally.

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

Published? No. I wrote one make out scene and was pretty uncomfortable writing it. I’ve experimented with writing some but I’m taking that to my grave.

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

Only in my head, I can never quite find the proper context to actually write the random connections my brain makes.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t know how I would begin checking for that, it took me a full two years to realize I could bookmark stuff.

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

Yes, “From The Depths”. I woke up to @rgrdsalxndra and @maggells tagging me in a violently angsty drabble on Twitter that was like “here, we need Death, your turn” and everybody hated us for like a full 24 hours. It was glorious. We should do it again sometime.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Ooh. Desmond and Peggy, EO, Outlaw Queen are up there for sure but how can I pick??

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

Legacy. It just requires a lot of effort to move forward and I haven’t touched it in a while. I usually get stuck on WIPs when I’m scared I’ll miss out on adding an important piece if I rush myself (that happens when plots live in your head too long) but that one I’m stuck because getting from point A to point B is very complicated.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’m supposed to have writing strengths??

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

If I feel like something’s getting too cheesy or doesn’t feel like it’s grounded in the characters (which happens often), I slam my laptop shut and don’t open the doc for several months because if I look at it, I’ll delete it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

No. I would make a fool of myself. But @somuchwhatever you could write in French?!?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

L&O.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

I feel like you have to break down what you mean by “favorite” because I will likely have a different answer for each “aspect” of a fic if that makes sense. That said, my favorite written things are fics I had an experience writing. Like clearly envisioned each moment and couldn’t stop writing until it was out. To me that will always be my best writing, and I think I got that most in “Lights” and “Unmarked File”. “In Love with the Night” was a close second, but I also ripped my own heart out with that one so it’s a little bit less pleasant to remember.

I don’t know anyone’s tags on here😂but whoever wants to, feel free to do one.

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Got tagged by @somewhereapart, and I figured y'all may be sick of seeing me just post fic so here ya go.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

88

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

305,612

3. What fandoms do you write for?

AO3 tells me I've written for Battlestar Galactica, Buffy, General Hospital, Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: OC, Lie To Me, Stargate: Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, and The West Wing. And I honestly can't think of any others outside of just ficlets I've tossed into the wild over the years.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Flinktober 2022 (EO, SVU/OC)

i remember skies (EO, SVU/OC)

gala (EO, SVU/OC)

bizarre love triangle (EO, SVU/OC)

Chautauqua (EO, SVU/OC)

I did not include one that was cowritten with a bunch of other people because I will always assume the kudos are for them.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

As often as possible. If someone takes the time to comment, I want them to know that i care enough to acknowledge and thank them for that kindness and effort. Especially when I write mostly for a fandom where I've seen people specifically state that they will read works but NOT comment on them as some sort of punishment for whatever random/imaginary fandom sins the writer whose free content they are enjoying has committed. That's just dumb and unkind, so I make the effort to let people know their comments are appreciated, even if it takes weeks to circle back.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm. There are several chapters in the first flink posting that would qualify, but I'm going to go with my largest Sam/Jack (SG-1) fic, Gravity Sings. It's hard to pretend it's not angsty when you've literally killed off half the planet.

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

Hmm. Not really sure. I'm a sucker for fluffy endings, so I tend to write them quite a bit. Maybe waltz or Chautauqua?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Occasionally, but I shut it down quickly. If you come up in someone's space where someone is providing you free entertainment and be rude? Don't expect a pass from me about it. The scroll bar isn't difficult to use, and neither is the back button. I use it frequently on poorly-written works or things that may be well-written but just aren't my thing. What I don't do is sling entitlement issues around demanding things be written to my satisfaction (unless you employ my beta services, in which case, you asked for it!). :D

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

I never really did prior to the first flink experiment, and I created that experiment purely to practice writing smut. Well, I take that back. @rgrdsalxndra would be the first to remind me I'd often cockblock Elliot and Olivia by having them dream-smutting without real-life release. But I started that project with the express purpose of getting better and more comfortable with writing smut, so I'm making that the hinge point.

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

Because SVU and OC are different shows, I write them regularly. But if you mean out-of-universe crossovers, I've only really written one, R.E.M. (SGA, BSG, Buffy). It was based on a prompt from an LJ friend, "Elizabeth Weir, Kara Thrace, and Buffy Summers walk into a bar..."

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware. There are much better people out there to steal from. Also, I always assume if something is similar to what I've written, it's because fandom truly does become a hivemind at some point. Nothing new under the sun and all.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware. If I had to guess, I'd say Gravity Sings would be the most likely candidate since SG-1 fandom is probably the most global and that fic has been around much longer than any other likely candidates.

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

Wrote Wet Dream with much better smut writers than myself in a group chat, and a bunch of us in SG-1 fandom way back in the day once built an SG-1 AU loosely based on The Big Bang Theory called The House That Jack Built, and I have several entries in that little universe.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

How does anyone pick this??? I love them all for different reasons. I will say EO has a grip on me nobody else ever has, but then they have that 25 year slow burn that is just absolutely and sickly delicious.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Glazed and Fired (SGA) was originally the first part of a 5 Things fic that got away from me, and I had always intended to go back and finish it but eventually just put it away for good. I fully intend to finish my others (Skies, I'm looking at you).

16. What are your writing strengths?

Grammar. Economy of language (this is also sometimes a weakness). Getting into the head of characters who are typically very closed off.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I feel my writing is way too mechanical. I'm also still not comfortable writing smut. I always walk around with a sense of imposter syndrome with my writing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm literally one class shy of a degree in French, and I had to write many upper level term papers in that language, but let me assure you I have zero plans to ever write in another language. I sincerely applaud those of you who do.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Stargate SG-1

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Geez. It probably changes regularly, and I'm hesitant to say because my faves are never anyone else's. all i ever wanted (a rather dark Elliot-centric fic) holds a very dear spot in my heart just because of how my muse just grabbed a keyboard and churned it out. This is not a popular opinion, and hardly anyone read it, but I still love it a lot. And just because it was the first fic I wrote that was widely recc'd, I have a soft spot for Things Not Dreamed (SG-1), a Sam & Jack & Daniel fic written from Daniel's POV.

tagging in a no-pressure way (and sorry for any double tags):

@morethanwords229, @whatbecomesofyou, @samwrites99, @rgrdsalxndra, @shut-upjohn, and anyone else who wants to do it!

[zukkaoru]

good evening zukka nation yesterday i watched episode 3x03 of legend of korra and decided hmm. you know what would be fun? if zukka had been casually canon! why would that be fun? because then we could’ve seen p’li trying to tick zuko off by mentioning sokka.

anyway then i wrote this. i haven’t watched past 3x07 of tlok so just... ignore any inaccuracies 

tw for references to character death

and in the end, it had word count: 1016

P’li creeps closer to the cell door, and lowers herself enough that she can look Zuko in the eye. He meets her gaze, knowing better than to display any sign of fear.

“Where’s your little Water Tribe toy?” she taunts. “Didn’t bring him along today?”

Something icy stabs through Zuko’s chest at the reference to Sokka. It’s been long enough that the mere mention of his name doesn’t throw Zuko off kilter, but the way P’li speaks - like she somehow already knows - has Zuko wishing he could rip the cell door off its hinges and put an end to her right here and now. He might do it, too, if not for the knowledge that Sokka would disapprove.

Sokka would say something like, “She’s just trying to get under your skin. Don’t let her. You’re stronger than that, I know you are,” because Sokka always, always, believed in Zuko.

As it is, Zuko can’t stop his body temperature from rising.

P’li gasps, mock concern filling her voice to the point where it’s making Zuko sick. “Oh? Don’t tell me something happened to him.”

Zuko looks away from P’li’s gaze enough that it answers her question wordlessly. He can feel Tonraq standing tense next to him, like he’s ready to hold Zuko back from a fight. Like he’s hoping he even can. 

P’li clicks her tongue. “Well,” she says, the false sense of concern abandoned in favor of her original taunting tone. “We all knew you’d outlive him anyways.”

Zuko wants to scream. He wants to tell P’li off, tell her how it should have been Zuko to die first, how Sokka’s only gone because he sacrificed himself to save Zuko’s life. But then again, maybe that’s what she means. Of course Sokka wouldn’t have let Zuko die before him. He’s too stubborn, too loyal, too self-sacrificing, too insistent that he’s always the less important one.

He never was. As far as Zuko is concerned, Sokka was the most important. As far as Zuko is concerned, he still is.

Because it’s Sokka’s memory - Sokka’s ghost, haunting Zuko’s mind - that stops him from lashing out at P’li. It’s the part of Sokka’s spirit still dwelling in Zuko’s bones that reels his temper in and stops him from inadvertently freeing P’li before Zaheer even makes it to the North Pole.

She’s just trying to get under your skin.

If it had actually been Sokka speaking, he would’ve thrown some pet name in there that Zuko would have pretended to hate during the early years of their relationship but ultimately admitted he liked because it was a reminder that Sokka had chosen him.

Sokka isn’t actually speaking, though. He isn’t here. He’s gone.

Zuko steps towards the cell, bracing himself to throw Tonraq’s hand off him if he tries anything. He doesn’t.

“If you’re going to talk about Sokka,” Zuko has no idea how he manages to keep his voice steady, “at least have the decency to use his name.” It’s not even close to what he wanted to tell P’li, but it’s what he can manage without setting the entire place on fire and putting Avatar Korra in even more danger than she already is.

He turns on his heel, away from P’li so he doesn’t have to look at her menacing smile for a moment longer, looking like she’s trying to peer into Zuko’s mind and figure out what she can say to tip him over the edge. And he doesn’t have to stare at that mark on her forehead that sends Zuko all the way back to the Western Air Temple before the war was over, back to Team Avatar reluctantly accepting him into their group and Sokka’s soft smile when he showed Zuko to his room.

He avoids making eye contact with Tonraq or either of the kids. “Let’s go,” he grumbles, pushing past them. He doesn’t bother turning around to make sure they follow. 

“I’m sorry for your loss!” P’li calls after him. “No really - I am. You two were good for each other.”

Zuko winces. His hand reaches up towards his topknot absentmindedly, reaching for a hairpiece he can’t bear to wear anymore because it hurts too much to be reminded that Sokka is gone every time he catches a glimpse of his reflection.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and tries to block out P’li’s voice. It doesn’t work.

“I know what it’s like to be separated from a significant other for a long time.” He can hear the smirk in her voice. “Only difference is mine is coming back for me. Yours can’t.”

The sharp iciness digs itself deeper into Zuko, wrenching his heart in half and making his stomach churn. He closes his eyes and thanks Agni it’s too cold here for tears to fall. He hears footsteps and hushed voices behind him, but he pushes them from his mind and walks onwards.

It’s not like being outside of this prison will help much, though. It’s all snow, all Water Tribe and reminiscent of Sokka. It’s all Boiling Rock Freezer-adjacent. It’s all a reminder of what he’s lost, far as the eye can see, and he can feel the heat radiating off his body.

If Sokka were here, he’d tell Zuko to focus on the task at hand instead of letting P’li’s words get the better of him. He’d wrap his arms around Zuko and whisper into his good ear, and he’d hang on for longer than he needed too under the pretense of being cold. He’d tell Zuko that no matter what happens, they won’t let any harm come to Korra or they’ll die trying to keep her safe.

It was a promise they’d made each other nearly a decade and a half ago, on Aang’s behalf. They would do whatever they needed to in order to keep Korra safe, even if it meant dying.

It was a promise Sokka had made Zuko too, time and time again. He would do whatever it took to keep Zuko safe, even if it meant dying.

And in the end, it had.

[sakurayumeno]

tysm! could i request luca, demi, victor, and andrew for butt smacking reactions? 🥰

Reacting to S/O Smacking their Butt (part 3)

Part 1

Part 2

Genre: Crack fic

Warnings: Not really any fart

A/N: I've decided to merge these three together and do the characters I haven't wrote for in this.

Andrew

I'd say he farts but wouldja still clap that 🤨

Be honest most of ya'll would and I wouldn't be surprised

Ok whether he does or doesn't is up to you lmao

Andrew stutters during his response so much, he's so shaken up. Look at what you've done to him smh. 😒

"W-w-w-w-w-w-w-" cue Mario waa

Just shuts up after a while and to be honest I would too. There's so much awkward tension afterward until you're just like "My bad."

His butt is most likely muscular or at least toned. In fact his entire body as well, but his butt especially.

I'm calling Bubble butt and you can't convince me otherwise. He's hiding a whole package under the jacket. 😤

Andrew is a hard no on butt smacking. Nothing and no one can convince him to do so. 1: too shy and out of his comfort zone. 2: ANDREW IS A MAN OF GOD AND WILL NOT SUBJECT HIMSELF TO SUCH SIN.

It's a good way to tease him, but oh God you saw how he was the first time, imagine you doing it around people. Won't even look at you after.

Luca

Bro he just... doesn't react...? You're so f ing confused and just question if you actually did it or not.

Once you do it harder is when he says something.

"Ow, what was that for?" He says while rubbing his butt. Publicly. The confidence he has is astonishing. Or he just has no shame, either or.

I’m sorry... but it has to be said... Luca’s pretty flat. 😔

All he does is sit besides running for his life in the games. He's literally all bone there.

I'm literally heartbroken, his butt has nothing going for it dude. 😭

He’s alright with it for the most part. He may seem indifferent about it at first, but he’ll surprise you post-match with a high-five that drops down to a butt smack.

Luca doesn't really put any force into it at all, he kinda just let's gravity do its thing. So yeah it all depends on how high his hand was before doing so. Best hope you ain't sensitive because hoo boy if he finds out he will do that everytime he smacks it. Nothing too hard of course, 'cause y'know, 'gentleman'. ✨

After that, he’ll only do it if he remembers. Too many things to busy himself with and having a bad memory doesn’t help at all. So if you want him to smack your butt, you have to do it to him first.

Victor

Poor, sweet innocent boy.

He don’t even know butt smacking is a thing tbh.

He would think it were Wick at first until he sees Wick right next to him. If Wick is there then who touched his butt? 🥶

Brain farts for a sec. If Eli didn’t know what was going on, Victor is on a whole new level because he can’t even begin to make sense of what’s even happening.

But like, out of all of the things to do, you chose to smack his butt. Why?? 

The most average butt out there. It's definitely not a bad thing, it could be worse you know. I guess you could say it's firm, but that's really it. I'm still thinkin about Luca's, hence why his butt could be worse. 💔

He’d do it,,, but he feels so dirty doing so. It's too intimate than what he's used to, but if you want he will do it. Anything for you. ❤

Believe me when I say that Victor is awkward with it. Dude really does not know what to do so he just softly pats your ass leaving you like 'wtf??'.

He is not trained in this area do not bully him.

Feel special my guy, those pats are designed for people he loves, now you too can be pet like Wick.

William

LITERALLY THE MOST CHILL LIKE?? 

“Oh hey s/o, somethin’ you need?”

Bro how can he be this laid back about it, that just shows how used to it he is. You are not the first person to have touched his butt. You should feel jealous at that.

MUSCULAR AF and has quite the curves too. It's a given since he's been playing rugby for such a long time, but dang. Also, hard ass. I'm not joking. It's so hard you'd get whiplash.

William has mastered this art ages ago. He is a pro, he knows when to do it, how to do it, and who to do it to. The best subjects; unsuspecting bystanders lmao, perfect jumpscare.

And by mastered it I mean mastered doing it painfullly hard. Hide your ass if you know what's good for you. Ayo but if you want it like that who am I to stop you, know what I mean? 😏

He is aware of how nice his butt is and isn’t afraid to show it. Good butt and for what? Just to flaunt around to be honest. God said it's our turn to have a nice butt, hand it over. 🧍

Okay excuse my hopeless romantic self, but I’d totally think William would do that hand in back pocket sort of thing. IT'S JUST SO CUTE TO ME HHHHHHH 😩

I promise you if you ever do this again, he will find some way to embarrass you. Like when you're about to take your hand away he will pull you back in and say some snarky shit like, "Now where do you think you're going?" and keep your hand there.