#i should be studying for finals but i needed to organize my thoughts

[hesherehesthere]

This is going to be a long post, and probably all over the place, but I've been really fixated on Roy and Nate as parallels and contrasts to one another, and I have a lot of thoughts.

This rant is particularly going to be about the ways in which Nate and Roy's masculinity presents, how both of them are men with severe insecurities that manifest in different ways, as well as the ways in which Nate's jealousy of Roy contributes to his arc.

When I first saw Ted Lasso, I initially interpreted Nate's arc as being a combination of toxic masculinity merging with the fact that Twitter is fucking poison for your brain. I do think that's part of it, but I think there's a lot more to it as well. With that being said, that's as good a place as any to start.

In my mind, Nate is essentially the embodiment of toxic fragile masculinity, where Roy is more representative of (mostly) non-toxic strong masculinity. Roy's insecurities are not particularly focused on his masculinity. He doesn't care about Keeley gossiping about him until he realizes she's been talking about something he's insecure about, and he hangs out with older women and drag queens, without any worries about how that reflects on him as a man. Roy's insecurities revolve much more around the end of his career and not knowing who he is as a person, with a healthy dose of wondering if he's a bad person or fundamentally unlovable. Roy is masculine in a very traditional kind of way. However, he uses that masculinity to help other people (for example, both Sam and Nate in S1), unlike Nate, who, particularly in S2 onward, comes across as less masculine and more bully.

Roy is also more internal and self destructive, while Nate is more external and lashes out at others as a result of his insecurities.

To continue along thought, I think it's important to note that Roy has always been a big defender of Nate. It is made extremely clear that Roy has never been particularly fond of the way that people (notably Jamie, Isaac and Colin) treat Nate in S1, but it goes beyond that. Roy is also shown to consistently go out of his way to acknowledge, congratulate, and give Nate credit for things, even after he's come on as a coach in S2. All throughout S2, there are a number of different moments where Roy will go to Nate to hug or cheer with him, Roy acknowledges Nate with a little head nod when he comes back on as a coach in 2x5, as well as several verbal scenes (Roy going to Nate's office to congratulate him on his park the bus play, Roy telling Rebecca "This has nothing to do with me, this was all Nate", etc).

A bit of an aside, but this also seems like a testament to the fact that Roy isn't big on grudges, because despite all the reasons he should be disgruntled, he's still more than okay with letting Nate come back to Richmond in S3. "I don't give a fuck. He's great at the shit I suck at." Even after all the fallout, Roy is still acknowledging that Nate is smart, someone he would be willing to work with, and a significant asset to the team.

Roy has always been a big Nate defender, so it hurts that Nate doesn't even seem to see it, particularly into S2, when he has been given more power. Obviously, he does acknowledge and thank Roy in 1x4, but after that point he doesn't seem to think about it much. I think that Nate is essentially blinded by his jealousy of Roy, to the point that he is unable to see his true intentions, because he so desperately wants to be him, or at least be like him.

In 2x5, when Nate is at A Taste of Athens, he laughs at something that Roy says during his pundit stint. He laughs at Roy tearing into Cartrick, specifically when he makes a comment about him pissing his pants. However, it's important to note that Roy was so aggressive in that scene in direct response to Cartrick being overtly sexist, which doesn't seem to be something that Nate particularly acknowledges. I don’t think that Nate agrees with Cartrick by any means, but I also don’t know if it really plays into why he thinks that interaction is funny.

Nate definitely feels personally attacked by Roy's coming back as a coach. This is probably due in part to the fact that he comes back after Ted essentially laughs at him and tells him that he doesn't think that he can help Isaac through his mental block, but that he thinks that Roy can. His insecurities are made worse by being next to Roy, as he feels as though he needs to prove himself.

I think this is supported by the fact that Nate also gets a lot more verbally aggressive after Roy's back, though he was making slow progress in that direction anyways. In some ways it almost feels like he's trying to copy Roy, to compete with him and embody him.

Because of this, I also want to briefly mention the scene where Nate kisses Keeley. I think it is implied throughout the show, as early as S1, that Nate has always liked her, at least a little bit. Keeley is casually touchy and affectionate as a person, and Nate could have interpreted those signals as her (possibly) being into him. Though he clearly regrets kissing her, in the leadup to that scene, he also laughs at Keeley's impression of Roy, where she's gently making fun of him. I think that it could have boosted his ego a bit to hear Roy being put down. I think his jealousy could have combined with that ego boost and played into that scene.

Another thing to mention is the fact that Roy is not particularly threatened by Nate kissing Keeley, where he is threatened by Jamie telling Keeley that he loves her.

Nate is upset about that because he thinks that Roy should be more mad at him, because he is a threat damnit, but I also wonder how much of Roy not being threatened is that he also somewhat considers Nate to be a friend. Though I don't think that Roy is threatened by him, I think it's also clear that he does like Nate, and even respects him. (I think there's also something to be said about the fact that Roy is more threatened by Jamie, not because he's more of a man than Nate, but because he and Keeley have a history, but that's a whole other tangent that I won't go on today).

I think that's all I have to say on the topic for now; sorry if this post didn't make any sense, I mostly wrote it out to try and organize my own thoughts. If someone else gets something out of it, that would be a great bonus.

[izzyy-stuff]

heyy izzy! i don’t think ive ever sent in a request to you before but i absolutely love your work so i thought i’d send something in. could you please do a roommate!taehyun fic where he accidentally walks in on you while you’re in the shower but then decides to join you which then ends up in him fucking you while you’re pressed against the cold shower wall and one leg pulled over his shoulder so he can hit deep :)

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 & 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐘 - 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍

roommate!taehyun x fem!reader

in which what originally was supposed to be just a quick shower to help him relax takes a different turn when he walks into the bathroom and sees you already in the shower, deciding to relieve his frustration differently than he originally intended to.

wc 2.5k

warnings shower sex, unprotected sex + creampie, vaginal fingering, tiny mention of nipple play, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, pet names, softdom!taehyun, biting/marking

↪ izzy speaks... I can't believe tae had zero works until now... like that's insane. I'm glad I can finally show it to you though. The writing process for this was for someone reason extremely SLOW. Everyone thank serene for being my life saver again and helping me get through whatever writing block I was feeling while writing this.

Kang Taehyun must have been the safest choice for a roommate ever. 

Unlike the other guys in your friend group, he was calm and knew when to shut up. Taehyun could cook, making your life a lot easier when he offered to make dinner as often as he could, and he was outside the dorm most of the time, too. If he wasn’t in the library studying after his lessons ended, you would find him in the gym, keeping in shape. 

He barely went straight to your dorm after school, so you had learned to get comfortable during your alone time. From using your living room for studying and making a mess with your papers and study books all over the floor, which he would have usually pointed out and told you to keep a system, to walking around the apartment with just your underwear.

So it wasn’t unusual when you sat on the couch in your living room in just panties and an oversized shirt you found at the bottom of your closet while cleaning up last week. You were surprised when you found it, confident you’ve never bought nor worn that shirt. But as you put it on, pushing your thoughts aside as there was no possible way of it being someone else’s if it was in your closet, you realized it was more comfortable than the garments you knew you owned. 

You have gone over the math formula hundreds of times and still feel like you see it for the first time every time your eyes land on it again. It doesn’t make sense. No matter how long you stare at it, the numbers and signs seem foreign. 

You sigh, slamming the math book shut and spreading out on the couch as a sign of giving up. You would have to ask Taehyun about it after dinner. But for now, you had other things on your to-do list for the day. 

Put your and Taehyun’s clothes into the washing machine (AND THANK HIM FOR DOING IT LAST TIME!!) 

Wash up 

Learn math 

Call your mom

You mentally cross out math, pretending it never existed. Still, you know you will have to come back to it. To this day, you weren’t sure why you decided to take another math semester when you didn’t have to. You were naive when you listened to your parents and signed up for “the only important class you will need in the future.” You had to scoff every time now when you remembered your mother’s words, knowing you wouldn’t ever need the formulas you were learning. 

Sighing, you get up from the couch and look around the living room. Looking at it now, you understand why Taehyun always wants you to have your work organized. It was a mess. 

Your fingers run through your hair before you pick up a few of your books and put them aside in the corner of the table so that other people can still use it. It also reminds you that you should clean around the house with Taehyun soon. 

But for now, there was the current to-do list you had to go through. 

You grab Taehyun’s clothes basket from his room, as you did many times before, kicking the door behind you so it would close before continuing towards your shared bathroom. 

Having a shared bathroom might have been the only disadvantage of living with Taehyun. You both tried to search for a bigger place so you could each get your own, but once you saw the prices, you both decided it was only a petite inconvenience. 

It doesn’t take you long to sort out all of his and your clothes by colors, leaving Tae’s underwear in the basket for him to do later on his own. You don't mind doing his laundry, just like he doesn't mind doing yours, but there are still limits to what you are willing to do for him. Even though those lines sometimes seem blurry in your eyes.

You aren't sure when or how it happened, but lately, you've found yourself wanting to step over some of the lines you had set for yourself when you first decided to room with Taehyun.

Maybe it was because of how comfortable you got with each other after half a year of living together. Perhaps it was because Tae had become your best friend over the years you knew him. Or, more likely, it was actually because of the amount of times you had seen him shirtless.

“We are friends, Ma. You don’t have to worry about me getting pregnant or something just because I am rooming with a guy. And you have met him many times. You know how Tae is.” You remember the call you had with your mom after you moved in, rethinking all your words. You were so sure back then that nothing could ever happen between the two of you, but a small part of you always wished for something else. 

You snap out of your thoughts, pressing the start button on your washing machine with a sigh. You step over the pile of white clothing you had prepared for the next wash, getting to the shower. You pull down your panties and shirt, hanging them on the empty peg beside your towel. 

♡⸝⸝ 

Taehyun was too exhausted to go to the gym tonight. He had enough. From missing lunch because he lost track of time while reviewing for his upcoming exam to completely forgetting about an assignment due last night. He just wanted to go home and relax for a bit before he would have to fall into the endless circle of studying again. 

So when he got through the door of your shared apartment, his first thought was to shower and go to sleep. He didn’t think much of what you were doing as he took down his shoes. Honestly, that was what he was the least worried about. 

Taehyun shakes his head as his eyes land on your books on the table, but then a smile creeps up his lips. You did listen when he scolded you about making a mess, after all. 

He looks around the apartment, trying to find you with his eyes. Eventually, his sight lands on your room, assuming you didn’t hear him coming in and were busy with your studies, so you didn’t come out to greet him. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

He doesn’t even properly register the sound of the washing machine as he walks toward the bathroom. For the first time in a while, his mind is finally blank, making him relax as he opens the door. 

Neither of you really realizes what’s going on until you drop down your shampoo, your eyes wide as you quickly try to cover your naked body upon noticing your roommate in the room. 

Taehyun’s cheeks could be mistaken for a tomato as his eyes travel from the bottom of your body to your face, swallowing everything he wants to say before even opening his mouth, stuttering. “I– shit, fuck– uhm, sorry,” he blurts out quickly, turning around so he wouldn’t face you. He doesn’t leave, though. 

 You can’t hear your own breath, nor his, as you stare at his back, your mind, unlike Tae’s, clouded with thoughts. “I wanted to shower. I’m– I didn’t know you were in here,” he says, you think. You’re unsure if any of the words actually reach your ears or if it’s all just in your head. Maybe he is just a figment of your imagination, too. He isn’t real. He isn’t standing in the bathroom with his back turned to you. 

“I’ve been so out of it today I just– I’m not sure what I am saying, to be honest. I didn’t mean to, though–” 

You cut him off, your words echoing in his ears. Still, he doesn’t believe what he just heard. “What?” He asks, his boba eyes making you feel weak in the knees as he turns around to face you again. “You wanted to shower and relax your mind, right?” You repeat half your question, your hands slowly falling to your sides. Taehyun bites his bottom lip, fighting all his inner demons to keep his eyes on yours. “Want to join me then?” 

You’re not sure what happens next. It’s all blurry in your mind. But the next thing you know, Taehyun’s hands are all over your body, “helping you to wash up,” as he said, but you both know that’s not what it really is when his hand just so innocently squeezes your breast. 

Your breath shakes as you feel him groan against your shoulder, sending shivers through your body. You tilt your head to the side, biting your bottom lip to prevent a moan from escaping your lips as he kisses your collarbone, his cold fingers playing with your nipples as if he had touched them thousands of times before, as if he wasn’t afraid at all of the sudden intimacy. 

“Tae,” you breathe out, and he only hums in response, his lips on your neck. “Are you okay with this?” He asks carefully, making it almost impossible for you to tell him no. So you nod, whining when his fingers trace down from your chest to your legs, making their way to your clit. “You’re so wet,” he mumbles. 

“S-shut up,” your voice shakes as you try to grind against his fingers, muffling your moan when he removes his hand. Your pussy clenches around nothing when your name leaves his lips, his kisses moving lower on your back until you hear him kneel behind you. You swallow a lump in your throat when his hands wrap around your thighs, the water drops on your back sending shivers through your body. “Mind bending over for me, sweetheart?” 

It feels unreal. Your roommate’s head between your legs, eating you out as if you were supposed to be tonight’s dinner, was all a little too much. You weren’t sure how long you could last. “Wait– I’m–” you try to speak up but end up swallowing everything you wanted to say when his tongue gets replaced by his fingers. You gasp, your hand slowly sliding down on the bathroom tiles as you begin to lose strength. You don’t think he notices, or at least he doesn’t do anything about it. His fingers pump into you so effortlessly, too. Somehow, it feels like he has been in your cunt many times before. 

Your first orgasm of the night is on Taehyun’s fingers, preparing you for himself. “Doing so well,” he coos, slowly standing up. It takes no time for his lips to find your neck again, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. “‘S too much,” you whine, turning your head around to see him. His boba eyes are soft, full of love even, you’d dare to say. 

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes out when his eyes land on yours, immediately kissing you. You fall into the kiss, turning around to face him. Taehyun takes a step forward, making you press your back against the wet tiles. The water dripping between the two of you doesn’t seem to bother him a bit as he wraps your leg around his waist. 

You are still kissing him when he aligns himself at your entrance, thrusting into you without a warning. You gasp, breaking the kiss. His lips chase after yours again, but you’re too busy trying to get used to him to kiss him back. “So good,” he praises you again, his mouth moving to your jaw and chin. You tilt your head to the side, trying to keep as quiet as possible as he thrusts into you again, starting slowly, with his eyes on yours to make sure you are okay. 

You nod to him instinctively, and he thrusts into you right away, this time faster, harsher. It doesn’t take long for him to set a comfortable speed, and you can feel all his stress in each thrust. “I needed this,” he mumbles. “Needed you.” 

It almost passes unnoticed by you, just some out-of-mind praises, but you catch onto it, and his words get stuck in your head. “N–Needed me?” Your question comes out as a broken moan, making him groan. “The whole day,” he agrees, only thrusting harder. “Everyone’s been getting on my nerves,” he explains. “Couldn’t wait to come home to you.” 

The ticklish feeling in your stomach makes you uneasy. You’re not sure if it’s another orgasm building up or just an after-effect of his words. Honestly, it might be both. But before you can think about it properly, another thrust comes in, with a few mumbles about how perfect you are before you feel his speed slowing down again, letting you know he is reaching his limit, too. 

It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts before he cums inside you, both of you too into the moment to realize he should pull out. Taehyun’s head falls onto your shoulder, but he doesn’t stop holding your leg up, assuring himself he still feels you on his body. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he breathes out, and before you can answer, you feel his teeth digging into the skin on your shoulder. 

You gasp, “What was that for?” He only hums in response, as if he had no idea what you were referring to. “A mark,” he finally mutters, making your eyes widen. “Wanted to mark you.” He says it so casually, while his hand slides between your bodies, circling your clit slowly again. You swallow a moan as his finger makes its way into your pussy again, feeling the mixture of his and your cum sliding down your thigh. You need another shower. 

You stay still for a bit, his head resting on your shoulder and your leg wrapped around his waist while your fingers play with his hair to assure him you are still there, not saying anything. 

You step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself immediately. You keep your eyes on his naked body, rethinking your next moves. “I need your help with math,” you proclaim quietly like you normally would. “I’ll gladly help you,” he nods with a smile. So happy, and for what? He was never rude about it when you asked for his help, but it wasn’t like he would be excited, either. This time, however, he makes you question what’s going on in his mind. 

“Here,” he says, the same smile still on his lips as he hands you your shirt and panties. “I didn’t know you were already wearing my stuff, but I can’t say I would complain,” he teases you, and it all finally clicks. Of course, that’s why you didn’t remember owning the shirt. It wasn’t yours in the first place. “Uhm–” you panic, trying to find a good excuse, but it’s already too late because all Taehyun can think about is the adorable blush on your cheeks.

TXT ⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez ✶⋆

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[keyaho]

summary: nami gets a bit beside herself. terry's control snaps and he gets a little petty.

word count: 4k

graphics by @firefly-graphics & @cafekitsune

authors note: this is for the brats. not the ones that know they are brats, but the ones where it just....slips out accidentally and you "have to see it through ma boy".

Part One || Part Two

“Stop watching my hands.” 

Nami looked down at the organic chemistry book in front of her. She was sitting at Terry’s dining table, to the left of where he spanked her last night. There were no hooks in the table and sitting somewhere normal felt odd. The numbers had long since blurred and every time she looked back to the problem she was working on she was confused. Reading through the problem from the beginning, she quickly found her place, scribbling with her mechanical BIC pencil until she was at the end when her thoughts began to wander. 

Terry’s eyes were on the television, his body stretched out on the couch. One arm was tossed on top of his head and his black sweats cuffed around the ankles. His shirt was embellished with ‘marine’ in thick white letters. Something was on tv, but she couldn’t remember the name of the series. He was two episodes in and silent about it. You should be studying instead of watching tv anyway. Terry hadn’t taken his eyes off the tv once since turning it on. He hadn’t moved either and the tent in his sweats was getting larger. She had earned her first Play Time.

This was the most relaxed she had been in a while when it came to her studies. 

“What number are you on,’ he asked, finally turning his hazel eyes to her. 

She sat in the chair wearing just one of his shirts. It was currently eight-thirty and Terry claimed to have plans for them later this afternoon. When he learned she needed to study, he took her home to get her study materials, clothes, and anything else she needed. He waited on the couch with arms stretched over the back of it like he lived there. 

Out of twenty questions, the easy ones she breezed through, she had finished sixteen. The last four were multi-step and required a deeper understanding of the material. 

“Sixteen.” She replied. 

“Still?” 

It wasn’t like he was offering to help and she didn’t even know if he understood anything about organic chemistry. Hell, she barely did. Looking down at the smudged paper where she almost erased a hole into it, she sighed, dropping her pencil to rub her temples. 

“You’ve been over there tapping that calculator and shit,’ he sat up just enough to place the tv remote on the table. “I figured you were one from done.” 

He swung his feet to the floor and stood up, but walked towards the kitchen. He opened his fridge as she looked down at the textbook angrily. This was the one class she hated the most. She sat comfortably with a B in it. Just enough to pass for the credit towards her degree. 

He grabbed two waters and walked towards her. Placing one on the table beside her books, he stood behind her. Terry leaned forward, his head resting on her shoulder before his lips found her neck. He had pulled her hair to the side, sucked on her flesh while she tried to focus on the problem at hand and not the one causing a problem between her legs. 

Nami slid her hand to the side. It was the first time her hands weren’t bound or held and she wanted to touch him. She had tasted him twice, but being able to feel him in her hands had her thought’s racing. Perceptive, Terry grabbed her wrist and brought it to his lips. 

“Am I distracting you?” He asked. 

Nami didn’t want to say yes. He had a habit of going into the room and closing the door. That wasn’t what she wanted. 

“No, it’s just….hard.” 

Terry laughed softly and pulled her up from the chair. Turning it so the back was against the table he sat down and pulled her to straddle his lap. His hands landed on her thighs. 

“Pick up the pencil.” 

He pulled her left arm behind her back, keeping it still while the other palmed her sore ass. 

“Work through the problem.” 

He hiked up the shirt until it was bunched around her waist and rubbed her thighs. Pressed up against him this way she had to be still. Nami started from the top and soon realized her mistake from previous attempts. She erased again, correcting herself and finding the rhythm to finish the problem. She double checked her work before moving on, slightly uncomfortable with her arm in his wrist behind her back. Terry’s hand crept under the shirt and cupped her breast, his thumb then worked back and forth over her nipple, tugging it just enough her breath hitched. He kissed along her jaw and neck, tugging downwards on her nipple until she let out a pained sound. Her hips jerked forward and he swatted her ass, his hand leaving her breast exposed and cold. 

“Keep that ass still.” 

Nami began the next problem, cycled through it while Terry reached for her breast again. This time his hips moved. It was slow at first. Teasingly slow. 

“You want to know something,’ he says, his hips bucking upwards as he holds her still, ‘I know this pussy is good.” 

He grinned as she struggled to keep still. “You want to know how I know?” He asked. 

“Yea, Sir,’ she breathed. 

“Because you don’t know what the fuck to do with it.” 

She moaned as his fingers dragged towards her clit from the back. 

“This pussy leaks, drips, and cries. Every time I look at it, it’s so fucking wet You need my dick don’t you?”

“Yessss Sir.” 

“I know. I know.” Terry began playing with her clit, his grip on her arm tightening. “S’okay,’ he slurred, ‘I’m going to teach you.” 

Nami let out a long sigh to disguise her moan. 

“Didn’t I say stop watching my hands?” Terry’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. 

Nami jumped, wiped the drool on the side of her lip and stared down at her paper. She looked down at herself and realized she had zoned out and imagined him that close. He was still stretched out on the couch across the room from her. 

He flicked his eyes back to the tv.  “What number are you on?” 

Nami flipped back to the previous page, opting for a little white lie, her day dreams had her wanting to make them a reality. Fuck the homework. She wanted him. 

“Nineteen,’ she looked up and saw his eyes on her. Grabbing the calculator, she input the problems components and began equating them on her paper. She’d finish them when she was home and away from his presence, but she wanted to pretend to be trying to finish. 

“When you’re done, come here.” 

Nami’s hand snaked between her legs moments later, just grazing her bare cunt. Fuck. She held a sheet of paper in her hands and since her bag was between her legs on the floor she could-

”Aye!” Terry snapped. “Touch my pussy if you want to.” He looked at her. “Hands on the table.”  

She worked her mouth into a frown as he scolded her. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she sat back in her chair, dragging it across the floor to get closer to the table. She threw her elbow on the table before her arm fell flat on the wood surface. She snatched up the calculator and used it to cover face, pretending to need it that close to use it. The movements were so fluid that Terry’s brow shot up. Oh? 

Who the fuck was she getting an attitude with? Terry thought. 

“Chill.” Terry replied instead, brushing off the exchange. 

Nami looked up at him and gave a shrug, no verbal reply followed. Terry’s hand twitched. Staying quiet, Terry sat up, and grabbed the remote before turning off the tv. Nami suddenly scratched at an itch in him to correct. He had learned early on that when it came to submissiveness, black women couldn’t entirely let go of their attitudes and when they popped up they were often mislabeled as brats. Nami wasn’t a brat. She just had an attitude and clearly it needed adjusting. She was testing his patience. His control. Him. She was testing him. 

Normally, a verbal correction could shape all that up. However, she wasn’t responding to him. Nami replied with her body and it was irking him. This wasn’t about him in the end. She wanted him to react. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted the correction and she had no idea what it looked like. 

“That’s definitely strike two.” He told her. “Why you playin’ right now? You fucking up your Play Time.” 

Terry had planned to indulge in one of her kinks and finally taste that pussy. Why would she want to mess that up? 

"What number are you on, Nami?" With all this playing she had better be done. 

“I’m not done.” 

“Did I fucking ask that?” Terry’s resolve shattered and he stood up. 

Nami watched him approach, his fingers rubbing together to tether himself. His restraint was slipping. He let out a long breath through his nose. 

“No.” 

“No?” He repeated as if giving her a clear chance to turn all this around. 

“No.” Her shoulders shrugged.

 Terry reached out before he could stop himself and fisted his hand into her hair. 

“Get up.”  Terry lifted her to her feet with his grip on her hair. It was just tight enough to guide her to her feet without pulling. He didn’t want to make her cry. Well, not right now. 

He suddenly released her hair and took a step back. His shoulders rolled as he craned his neck side to side, stretching out. She stood there, rubbing the back of her head in just his shirt. He could push her to her knees and have her swallow his load over and over. He could choke her on his dick, spank her until she cried, but she wanted that. This just wasn’t the way to get it. 

Scratching his chin, he took a seat back on the couch. 

“Pack up.” He pointed towards her stuff. “I’m going to take you back home.” 

He dropped her cuffs back into the drawer and stood to go find his shoes. He stepped into his bedroom leaving her there with her mouth half open. She didn’t want to leave, that's not what she wanted him to do. She wanted his hands on her, bringing her to the cusp of an orgasm so she could feed the itch between her legs. Nami wanted him to touch her and move her the way he wanted. Instead, she watched his retreating back.

He didn’t close the bedroom door this time but she knew entering would make things worse. Huffing, she returned to her seat and put her bag on the table. She started shoving her things back into it and didn’t notice that he had stepped to his door and leaned against it, watching her. His arms folded over his chest and let his new toy dangle from his fingers. The leather was cool in his hands, but he was sure once it was used it would warm right up. 

“So you can listen?” He says as she yanks the zipper on her bag closed. 

Nami looked up a full pout on her full lips. “Yes, Sir,’ she whispered. 

“Huh?” He said, cupping his ear. “That apology needs to be as loud as that attitude was. Don’t get all shy now.” He saw her eyes wandering to his hands and he snapped his fingers. “Look at me.” 

“We’re about to talk about boundaries. Cause you are pushing some buttons today and I want to wear that ass out. Last night would be a cake walk. You won’t be able to sit when I’m done with you.” 

“You told me you were about to take me home.” Nami replied. “We can talk about it next time.” If he was going to say something she was going to make him stand on it. She figured that since he was taking her home she could speak freely. 

Big mistake. 

“Nami,’ he sighed, ‘I’m giving you a chance to fix your attitu-’

“I don’t have an attitude.” 

If there was ever a moment for a record scratch now was it. Terry laughed, it didn’t reach his eyes, but the sound sounded joyous. He pushed off the door frame and walked towards her. Nami’s eyes dropped to his crotch. Oh shit. His dick was still swinging side to side as he walked, but it was not hard. Not like she had thought it would be. Not like last night. He was serious.

“Yeah, that shit aint cute.” 

When he was in front of her, she looked up at him. Feeling his body heat as he worked his tongue around his mouth. His jaw ticked and she so badly wanted to reach out and touch him. She hated that rule. 

“I’m not trying to be cute.” 

With some restraint, Terry grabbed her face by the jaw, his fingers pressed into the flesh there as he guided her to sit on the couch. 

“Nami, shut the fuck up.” 

He sat on the table in front of her and she noticed the riding crop across his lap. He grabbed the front of her shirt and dragged her to the floor. She landed in a huff and he tugged on her hair, pulling her head backwards. He saw the pleasure in her face and shook his head. 

“You could have just asked me for this.” He says, his hand smacking her cheek in a test pop. “Is this what you want? You want me to rough you up?” 

Terry his hand tightened in her hair as he stood up, leaving her on her knees. He saw her hands move towards him. 

“Don’t test me, Nami.” 

He was doing a lot of talking, he realized. He was trying to diffuse the tension between them, maybe get back to what he had planned for the day, but she wasn’t making it easy on him. She placed her hands in her lap, clenching them into fists. Terry was swiftly moving this time, the crop dropping to the floor as he brought Nami back to the table. He laid her on her back this time, stretching her further across the wood. Her arms dangled over one side and her legs the other. He stopped talking, moving through cuffing her to the table with ease. She stared up at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling as she began to over think his next move. 

Terry sat on the couch and pulled the table closer to him, her added weight making no difference to him. He placed her feet on the table and spread them apart, ignoring her pussy beginning to glisten. He only stood up to push her shirt up, covering her face. Nami’s body rolled to the side in confusion, trying to shake off the shirt. 

Stinging.

He struck her with the riding crop on the outside of her thighs. Then again and again. And one more time until she realized she was supposed to be counting. The pain had jarred her mind and she couldn’t think clearly. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying. 

The cold leather rubbed between her legs, up her inner thighs, and her legs fell open from the soothing sensation. It was followed promptly by a sharp strike to her inner thigh. 

“Five, Sir, please,’ she begged this time. “It hurts…..” 

“What the fuck does that have to do with me?” 

He switched sides, the crop landing on her sensitive skin on her left. He dragged it down the valley between her breasts and delighted in the way her body shivered. Now, he was getting hard. This turned him on. He couldn’t see her face, but she was shaking her head side to side still, her arms tugging on her restraints. The cold metal cuffs bit into her skin and she almost dropped her foot from the table. 

“Six, Sir,’ she sputtered, the crop landing on the underside of her breast, her nipple nearly swatted. "No, no, no, no,no...." she whined.

She only had four more though she didn’t know it and he was going to make them count. Coming to stand behind her head, he reached between her legs with the crop and stroked her cunt with it. When the leather began to shine with her slick his hand joined by slowly spreading her wet lips apart. Like a flower she opened up, and he thumbed her clit a few times. He wanted so bad to dip his fingers into her and play in her nectar, but again ... she did what she wanted and acted up. 

“Oh, Sir,’ she moaned, hips rising to seek out his fingers. 

He drew the crop back and smacked it against her clit, the scream she let out was loud and sent blood rushing to his dick. He kept her open, stroking her down to her weeping little hole, then using the crop to remind her of the reality of the situation. 

“Eight, Sir,’ she turned her head towards her arm, the shirt in the way as she blinked through the tears. She wanted to enjoy his thick fingers but the crop ruined the sensation just as quickly as it started. 

He applied another hit to her thigh, still stroking her pussy. His fingers were drenched and when he drew his hand away the crop landed just below her clit. Her legs snapped shut around the crop, locking it in place as she cursed. 

“Ten, Sir, please….” 

“Open your fucking legs,’ he growled. “Now!” 

Her legs feel apart slowly, the red skin on her thighs beginning to welt. Terry admired his work, the way she dripped on the table and off his fingers. He left her hooked to the table and retreated to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He looked at her while he drank. Nami was bound to his coffee table like a work of art and if he didn’t have anything to do he would leave her there. Then again, his kitchen was low. He could use a few groceries. Terry soon tossed the empty bottle into the trash and clapped his hands together. Nami heard a jingle of keys and the door opening. 

“When I get back you had better work through that shit.” 

Terry arrived back at the house two hours later with lunch and food for the house. He looked to the table and saw Nami was relaxed, too relaxed. 

Dropping the bags on the table, he placed their food on the stove before tossing his keys, loudly, into the bowl he kept them on the foyer table. He walked to the table where Nami was spread out and pulled the shirt off her head. Big brown eyes, red from crying, stared back up at him. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,’ she whimpered, eyes looking away from his intense stare. 

“You’re sorry,’ he said, kneeling so they were closer to eye level. 

Terry rubbed his hand across her belly, eyeing the welts on her inner thighs. He knew her ass was still sore. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“It’s not even noon and I’ve had to punish you twice within twenty-four hours.” He stood up and unhook her arms. “Did you work through whatever little attitude you had before I left?” 

Nami sat up with his help and brought her cuffed hands between her legs as she sat up. She rested them on the table, tugging at the hem of her shirt. She winced as her legs stretched out. Her shoulders relaxed and she felt her back slump forward. 

“Yes, Sir,’ she says. 

Terry uncuffed her hands and kissed the inside of her wrists. He kissed up her arm until they were nose to nose. He lifted her head and kissed her briefly. 

“It’s way too early for you to be getting an attitude with me.” Terry grabs her jaw in his hand. “Don’t do that shit again.” 

Helping her up, he guides her to the kitchen and sits her at the counter. She places her hands on the table and he removes the cuffs. Before he walked away he stood beside her and leaned against the counter.

“What do you need from me?” 

She wanted to scream to touch him. Why couldn’t she? It was the only rule that was making her go crazy. 

“A hug.” She pouted. 

Terry smiled and pulled Nami into his arms. He kept her hands between them, flat against their bodies as he cupped the back of her head with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist. She rested against him, hoping for a bit more contact, and sighed. 

“Let’s talk.” 

Terry slanted his lips over her, kissing down her jaw and neck as he breathed in. He then slid a sheet of paper and pen across the island while walking to the other side. She looked down to see a list of kinks, ranging from vanilla to extreme chocolate. She picked up the pen as she sat. 

“Circle what you like.” 

“I haven’t done half of this,’ she admitted, wondering how to even pronounce half of these kinks. 

“Underline it if you’re curious.” He looked down at the paper. “Cross it off if it’s a no.” 

He turned his back to her and began putting away the items he bought. Organized to his liking, Terry shut the pantry door and walked to the stove. He took out his takeout boxes and remembered his order with a chuckle. Both were still warm and he plates them with his back to her. Nami was quiet as she read through the list. Many of these she was curious about and underlined them, kinks she hadn’t thought to be kinks were circled, while she made sure to circle everything she liked. Terry’s phone went off again and he turned his head slightly in the direction of it. Letting it ring, he reached into his cabinet for glasses, using water from the fridge to fill her cup. He brought that first, looking down at the paper while she ran the pen over it. 

“Dirty girl,’ he mumbled. “My hand should be a necklace,’ he reminded her with a smirk. She made sure to circle choking. 

“You’re not supposed to be looking yet.” She pulled her paper closer and used her arm to cover it while she finished up. 

Terry leaned back, giving her space, and turned back to their plates before bringing them over. He had a bowl of pasta, grilled chicken and broccoli, nothing too heavy, this early. Nami breathed in the smell of chicken and looked up. Her smile dropped when she realized what was on her plate. 

Fries. 

Chicken tenders. 

Nami looked down at the plate then back up to Terry. He stabbed his fork into the pasta before bringing it to his mouth. 

“Something wrong?” He asked. He followed her gaze to her plate. “You act like a child, I will feed you like one.” 

Nami pursed her lips, her stomach growled before she could say she wasn’t hungry. Terry smiled, and pointed towards the plate. “Eat.” 

“Do you have ketchup?” 

“The fridge.” 

As she got up, he slid her paper to his side of the island. His hazel eyes raked over the paper, making mental notes of which kinks paired well together, others he’d have to ease her into, and those he’d have to isolate and focus on individually. She was big on lack of choice if her choices of asphyxiation and sensory deprivation were any indications of it. Nami slid back in the stool watching him read through the list. Over one hundred different kinks listed and the anticipation of trying them gave her a tingling feeling.

“We’ll get to these," he pushes the paper back to her. “It’s been two days and you’ve done a lot.” He eyes her, thinking about how much fun they could be having had it not been for her moment earlier. “Does anything we’ve done so far make you uncomfortable?” 

Nami thought back to the moments leading up to now. The online chats, the first lunch, the first night together, this morning ... .all of it, and she couldn’t think of a moment that she wasn’t enjoying herself. 

“I’m confused about something,’ she says, jabbing a fry in the cold ketchup. “I mentioned the type of situation I wanted and I don’t know when one begins and the other ends. Or if-’

”I want you to get used to me as your Dominant, then things will progress. I’m learning about you.” He replies, hoping his answer isn’t aloof. She needed the truth. They were compatible so far. Blurring the lines so soon would end up bad for the both of them. 

“Oh, okay,’ she replied. “I think I get it.” 

“I don’t want you to think.” He says with a shrug, ‘I want you to let me be in control.” 

“What does that look like?” 

Terry placed his fork down. Being questioned was one thing, but Nami genuinely wanted to understand so he couldn’t be upset that she didn’t have blind faith. If anything, he was elated to know she wasn’t going to lie and take whatever he gave her, though he hoped the moment he sunk into her p-

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Terry blew out a breath. “Following my rules. You’ve been good at no panties. That’s more so for me.” He smirks. “The way your ass shakes when you walk by me is undeniable. Know that I am looking at your ass.” 

Nami reached down and tugged on her shirt. “I like making you squirm.” He lowers his voice, the rich baritone sent shivers down Nami’s spine. “I like how wet you get when I touch you. I want you to know I can easily make you feel good. If you listen to me.” 

“Are there more rules?” 

“You know my rule on what color to wear with me. If you don’t have enough I will take you out shopping.” 

Nami nodded. 

“No alcohol. I was worried when you went out. I’m glad you told me where you were. The location on your phone should always be shared with me.” He paused. “When I want you I want to know exactly where you are.” 

“No touching me,’ he reinforced. “That is an earned privilege.” 

Nami wanted to press why, but the look in his eyes changed her mind. “Yes, Sir.” 

“You’ve already learned that that pussy is mine. Don’t touch it without my permission.” He wanted her wet and weeping by the time he fucked her. He wanted her pussy sore from just the thought of getting fucked. 

Their plates emptied quickly and Nami sipped on her water. 

“Most of the spaces we will be in together, I require you to be seen and not heard.” His tone grew serious. “I frequently visit play parties, mostly to see what’s new and whether or not it’s something I would do. Usually I am alone, but you’ll be going with me. Those nights I can’t be your boyfriend.” At those parties, Terry lurked in the background. He tried to avoid being the center of attention, but once one person saw him and spread it, there was no hiding. 

“Do you participate?” 

“Are you interested in voyeurism? Do you like being watched?” 

“No, Sir,’ she says. 

“Then no. I don’t.” 

He didn’t seem to mind that she realized. She tried to think of more questions but she wanted Terry to push her limits. She knew her safe word. 

“Nami.” 

She looked up, her curls wild as she pushed them over her shoulder and behind her ears. She was so fucking pretty. He remembered her tears and the way they ran down her cheek as her body sought more from him, betraying her displayed emotions. He wanted that again. The tears and the way her body sought more from him with each swat to her smooth skin. The way she choked on his dick the first night, how her throat just opened up to swallow him. 

“Above all, I need you to trust me. You have your safe word.” 

Taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings

@mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites

@browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr

@beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina

@randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated @gg-trini

[papercorgiworld]

Can i request a Mattheo Theo and(or, how many u feel like writing) enzo with an older gf maybe like a girl who'd walk em like a dog and in a second they're like "Yes maam whatever you say🧎‍♂️" byw love ur writing I'm obsessed with ur works!!

I kinda wasn't taking request, but I suck at saying no and I just kinda felt like writing this. This is just short and quick, but it was a really fun idea. I gave it a bit more of a specific context, I hope you don't mind. Thank you so much for sending this my way. I hope you like it, bc I really loved your idea. I wrote this in like an hour or so, let me know if you spot any errors. Also currently 2k+ words into a very fluffy muffin coded Mattheo piece. So this is more like a suggestive snack. Enjoy my dears!

Warning: suggestive

I added a part two.

Whipped for their tutor

Mattheo

Mattheo had been skipping too many classes and his latest test had reduced Mcgonagall to tears, so it was tutoring sessions or no quidditch for the rest of the year. So here he was waiting outside of the transfiguration's classroom as the professor informed his tutor on all the material he needed to catch up with. The list was really long and Mattheo was starting to get embarrassed. Especially when he heard the professor refer to his latest test. He really wasn't stupid, he just neglected his studies for a bite too long.

He heard chairs shuffle and moved away from the door. The door opened and Mattheo's mouth almost fell open. You've got to be kidding me. (y/n). Fuck. Everyone at Hogwarts had a crush on you and in Mattheo's case it wasn't just an innocent crush. No, the thoughts he had about you were far from innocent. Professor Mcgonagall's voice pulled Mattheo out of his trance. "Mister Riddle, this is miss (y/l/n), she'll try to save your grade."

You smiled at Mattheo as he nodded at the professor's words. He was cute you couldn't deny that, but seriously the staring was obvious. When the professor left you two alone Mattheo chuckled nervously making you roll your eyes. Wasn't Mattheo Riddle supposed to be a big bad boy? You turn on your heels. "Follow me, I reserved us a classroom." Your voice is sweet and Mattheo feels himself heat up to an unhealthy degree. Yes, mommy. He stares at your ass for a second and then quickly walks after you.

"Mattheo Riddle." Mattheo introducing himself when he catches up with you and you smirk, before licking your bottom lip. "Oh, I know who you are." Mattheo smirks, feeling confident a his reputation. "I've also seen your grades." Mattheo's smug smile drops and he falls silent for a moment. You open the door to an empty classroom and enter, walking over to a table to lay your books on. "I'm actually not stupid." Mattheo finally manages to say and you look up as you organize your books. When you don't say anything he walks closer. "I just didn't work hard enough." He explains and you sit down. "Well, I guess I'm just here to make sure you work for it this time." You tilt your head and watch him almost drool.

"Sit." Mattheo nods and complies. Nothing left of this bad boy. He reaches for his books. "You should start with summarizing chapters 3 to 6." Mattheo huffs. "I never make summaries, I'll just read it over." You lean a little closer and rest a hand on his thigh, making him almost gulp at you touch. "Matty, be a good boy and summarize chapter 3 to 6 for me." Your lips near his ear have his dick twitch in his pants and if your hand would move even an inch you would feel it. Mattheo can't remember the last time he's blushed, but right now his face is reddening as he stares at his book. Slowly he moves his eyes, first to your half opened blouse and then to your perfect lips. "Yes, ma'am." Is all the notorious Mattheo Riddle can say before he opens his books and starts doing the work.

Theodore

He was late and hearing from the laughter in the hallway, he wasn't in a hurry. "That Gryffindor goat just failed me bc she hates Slytherins." You roll your eyes at Theodore's arrogant voice echoing through the hallway, approaching the classroom you were supposed to meet at half an hour ago. "Can't believe you're stuck with a tutor, mate." Mattheo chuckled and you focus on Theodore's test in your hands. "I know, I probably can teach them more than they can teach me." Theo laughs as he opens the door and you tilt your head with a cheeky smile on your lips. "I doubt that." Is all you say and Theodore stares up and down your figure as you sat so elegantly and perfectly. Mattheo stands behind his friend mouth hanging.

"I might need some tutoring as well." Mattheo says his voice squeaky, making him look down in embarrassment. "No doubt, but this session is reserved for Theodore. I can call you Theodore, right?" There's a teasing tone to your voice but both boys are too enchanted by you to notice. "Anything." Theodore breathes as he takes a few steps towards the table you were sitting at. "Mattheo." You say looking past Theo. "You can close the door." Mattheo smiles bright as you say his name and does as you say, only once outside he realizes how foolish he must've looked.

Theodore was now alone left at your mercy. "Are you just gonna stand there?" Theo shakes his head and smiles like a love struck puppy. You were the hottest and most unreachable girl at Hogwarts and now he got to sit next to you, smell your perfume and take in your perfect features from up close. "I don't actually need tutoring." Theo said with a half smirk on his lips, faking confidence. "Your latest test says otherwise." You move the piece of parchment over the table towards the Slytherin, who's immediately flustered. He really doesn't need his dream girl thinking he's stupid. "I say we start by correcting the mistakes you made and filling in the blanks you left." Theodore chuckles, he really didn't want you of all people to tutor him like he was a little boy. He needed to you see him as a man for far from innocent reasons. "I don't think that's necessary." Theodore protests.

You scoot a little closer to him and lay your hand on his thigh, gently moving between his legs. An unsteady breath leaves his parted lips. You owned him and you both knew it. "Don't be like that Theo, just do the work... for me." Another breath leaves his lips and he reaches for his quill, like a good boy. Cute and whipped, exactly how I like them.

Enzo

It wasn't even his fault. Mattheo and Theodore had gotten him high and he had written the word 'soup' as an answer to every question. Now he had to skip quidditch training to go hang with this tutor. With his hands in his pockets he entered the library, scanning the room for his appointed tutor. That's when he saw you. Gods, you were a view. He smiled, immediately getting flustered, you were out of his league and he knew it, but damn you were fine to look at.

"Lorenzo, right?" She's talking to me. Oh by Salazar, it's happening! Say something! "Lorenzo?" You snap your fingers in front him and his smile turns goofy. "Sorry. I was fantasizing- I mean dreaming- thinking." You press your lips into a line you were used to guys getting a little nervous around you, but this guy couldn't even hide it and that just made him adorable af. "I'm your tutor." You don't bother introducing yourself, since you had caught him staring at you enough times for him to know your name and sizes. "Tutor?" The Slytherin seemed to panic at the idea, but you chose to ignore it leaving him with some of his dignity.

"Come on. I was just planning on getting your books." Enzo nods and watches you walk, making you turn after a few seconds and raising your eyebrows. "Come on, Enzo." He sighs at the way you say his name, like you did it better than any other girl. He hurries and follows your every step carrying every book that you summon. Suddenly you turn on your heels and Enzo almost bumps into you, smiling at you as his eyes rest to your soft lips. Probably fantasizing. "Let's start studying, shall well." You announce and despite the discouraging pile of books Enzo quickly nods. "Yes, ma'am." You chuckle. Whipped. With him still trailing behind you a dirty thought sets root, maybe a younger and utterly whipped guy like Lorenzo Berkshire might make a good sugar baby.

[kellysue]

The Suit-Making Metaphor

[Written in January, 2024] The cold eventually got bad enough that the Grandma, the kids and I fled to a hotel while Matt stayed at the house with the dogs. We were fortunate to be able to that of course, and sharing a room in a nice warm hotel was not suffering by any stretch of the imagination. Even so, it was stressful. We brought ipads, paints, books and needlework to keep the kids entertained and alleviate some anxiety, but time also had to be made for school work—especially as they would be going back to class just in time for finals. We made lists of their classes, what they had to study, what we could help with and what questions would need to be put to their teachers.

Henry’s 16 now (!!) and instead of an exam, his Humanities final was a personal essay. We chatted a bit about his writing process, what he liked about what he had done so far and what was frustrating for him. Though he had a terrific topic, he’d written and rewritten his opening paragraph several times and wasn’t making any real progress.

Been there, buddy.

As we talked, I stumbled on a metaphor that I found helpful, and so I’m going to try and share with you roughly what I said to him, and perhaps some of you will find it helpful too.

I get it, I do. It’s exactly my inclination as well. But writing like this-- where you try to perfect everything as you go, effectively writing the third draft before you finish the first--it’s like trying to make a suit from the top to the bottom. You can’t make a suit like that. You can’t start with the collar and get that perfected and then move to the shoulder. You can’t topstitch the upper part of the button placket before the bottom even exists. And even if you could figure how to do it that way, your suit isn't going to fit. Because that’s just not the best way to make a suit. Finishing the thing from top to bottom is not the best way to write, either. You start by choosing your fabric—your topic. What material are you going to craft the suit from? What’s the subject of the essay? You want to write about your relationship to various monsters. That’s terrific! That’s like a nice wool; there’s heft there—memories and feelings and personal details that resonate as truths; it should make a rich and interesting suit. Now, instead of cutting out the collar immediately, let’s choose a pattern. We need a pattern to help us cut the wool into the proper shapes. The pattern is the very basic structure of your essay. How might you organize your thoughts and feelings about monsters? The order isn’t as important as the categories. For the suit jacket, we’ll need right front, left front, sleeves, collar, lining etc. For the essay, what monsters do you want to write about? King Kong, the Rancor, the Minotaur and Bernard the Bull. Perfect. Cutting the pattern pieces out is equivalent to gathering your thoughts on each monster. Write freely about each one, taking the time to remember in as much detail as possible where you first encountered each monster, how old you were, etc. Go through each of your senses to help you recall the moment. What did you see? Smell? Taste? Feel? Who was with you? How did you feel in your body? How did you feel in your heart? Include everything that jumps out at you, you can always edit it down later. In our metaphor, this step is not just cutting out the pieces but also taking the time to transfer the pattern marks. You might not need them all, but you're sure to make a finer suit if you have them all available. Once you have the pieces, the next step is to see how they fit together. Read through each monster and look for connections. Is there an order that suggests itself? Rearrange and then edit and expand to highlight those connections. The first pass of this is basting stitches—loose connections just to test the fit—once you’re happy with the shape you can go ahead and lay in seams. Here is where our parallels start to fall apart: For the suit, you’ll want to do all the finishing touches—the handstitching, buttons, pressing, etc.—and then try it on and style it. But in writing your essay, these steps are reversed—styling is crafting the last paragraph, bringing the piece to a close. Your essay doesn’t have to wrap up neatly, in fact, you don’t want it to be too matchy-matchy. Just as an outfit’s style is improved by personal idiosyncrasies, a piece of writing is enriched by the author's capacity to engage with complexity and ambiguity. With the styling done--when you really know what it is you're trying to say--now you can go back with needle and thread and do that hand-stitching: tighten the prose where you can, polish rhythms, word choice, grammar and voice. With the whole of the thing in front of you, you now have what you need to do the kind of “third draft” finishing work that was impossible to begin with.

This might be the very definition of beating a metaphor to death, but I surprised myself with it. It was as revelatory for me as it was for Henry--probably more so.

And with that, I need to get back to those now-422 emails.

Cheers,

Kelly Sue

PS New creator-owned book coming out late fall this year--first launch in a decade or so, I think? I do need to figure out this whole newsletter/blog conundrum sooner rather than later. Advice and opinions welcome.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 70

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 6K

TW: Smut

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, March 19th; 10:30 AM - At Lucy's place.

I sigh as I look at my study notes, which have taken over Lucy’s personal space. At least... if I can still call it that. I’ve slowly started filling it with my presence. Ever since I decided to move in after school, I’ve been bringing my stuff. I already brought a large suitcase from home last week, and I plan to do the same on our next trip to Barcelona. I’ll leave a few things there just in case, but most of it will be moved here. I should be resting, but I can’t. I was on the couch with Lucy, trying to start a series, but I didn’t last long. I was bored and felt useless. We’ve been moving around so much lately that I’m not used to staying still anymore. That’s how I ended up in this situation. I haven’t been feeling great lately, I must admit. I’m stressed out because of a few rejections I finally received from galleries. It’s only a small handful, but it’s unsettling. On top of that, I got feedback from Mr. Fields, and it wasn’t good. He’s not going to change his mind about his offer in Cardiff. I’m taking my time to give him an answer, but let’s just say I don’t want to accept it. And of course, our professors decided to schedule their exams for the two weeks before the break... That’s not helping my stress. I was about to start reading a new chapter when the sound of shuffling papers caught my attention. I look up to see Lucy gathering my notes that were scattered across the table.

- "What are you doing?" I asked, perplexed.

- "You’re unbelievable. No matter what I do, you always find something to cling to like a kind of drug when you start to lose control. Well... you know what I mean, right?" she backpedaled after realizing what she’d just said.

I smiled softly, crossing my arms as she continued to pile up my notes in her hands. For a moment, I wondered if she was respecting the order of my chapters or if I’d have to sort them all out later. Those thoughts quickly disappeared when she spoke again.

- "You need to detach yourself from studying, so we’re going out."

- "Really?" I raised an eyebrow.

- "Yes. You’re going to lose your mind if you keep studying this much."

I bit my lip as she held out her hand for me to give her the paper I was holding like my life depended on it.

- "I don’t think-"

- "Oh yes, it’s a great idea," she interrupted me. "Come on."

- "Fine..." I muttered, handing it over. "So, what do you have planned?"

- "We’re going to help the girls at the gym."

- "The gym...? You mean the studio?"

- "Yeah, the gym," she said, putting the stack of papers in my organizer. "I texted Jenni, and it seems they’re in the middle of renovations, so it’s the perfect time to lend a hand."

- "Alright..." I sighed.

I’m far from motivated, but it seems like it’s for a good cause.

- "Who’s there?"

- "Jenni, Aitana, Beth, and Alexia."

- "Alexia?" I repeated in surprise. "She didn’t tell me she was staying."

- "It wasn’t planned. Jenni hosted her last night. Their transport got canceled, apparently."

I raised an eyebrow. I’m really surprised she didn’t tell me, to be honest. Well, we haven’t talked since we parted ways yesterday.

- "What about Alba?"

- "As if I went that far in my questioning," she rolled her eyes. "You can ask her yourself in a few minutes. Go change first. Do you have any old clothes?"

- "Uh, no."

I blushed at the thought. I haven’t brought any of that yet. I prioritized what I wear regularly.

- "Well, I’ll have to find you something."

After getting ready, we were set to leave. I was wearing Lucy’s clothes, and nothing could make me happier. Surprisingly, traffic was light for a Saturday morning. The weather was warming up, finally allowing a few rays of sunshine to appear. Well, it wasn’t Barcelona’s twenty-five degrees, but I wasn’t going to complain. Seeing the outside world was doing me a lot of good, surprisingly. Lucy parked in the same spot as last time. I recognized Jenni’s car near ours. I assumed the other two cars belonged to the friends she had mentioned. I was excited to see them again. I hadn’t seen them since our trip to the Alps.

- "Are you mad at me?" I asked as she opened the rear door of the building for me.

- "Mad at you for what?"

- "For isolating myself whenever things get tough in my life instead of coming to talk to you..."

I turned to see her walking behind me. She met my gaze with a smile plastered on her face.

- "I’d be mad if it wasn’t so obvious, yes. But don’t worry, that’s not the case. I know you, and I know what’s bothering you right now. I’ll never force you to talk, but you know communication is important, and if you ever feel the need to talk, I’m here."

- "Thanks... I think I just need a hug right now."

- "Then I think I’ll offer my arms for that."

I laughed as I melted into her embrace when she opened her arms. In the end, I might be regretting the couch now. I’ll think about it next time. I sighed softly, inhaling her scent. It’s become my favorite. It’s fruity, yet soft, with a hint of coffee. It’s strange, but totally harmonious thanks to her natural body smell.

- « te amo," I murmured against her neck.

- « Te amo también, mi amor."

The doors to the main room creaked open a bit farther down. I didn’t even need to turn around to know, given how loud they were.

- "Ah, I knew I heard some noise!"

I turned around, recognizing Alexia’s voice. She had a huge, toothy smile. At least we could be sure she was happy to see us.

- "I’m so glad you’re here. We needed a bit more muscle around here. Don’t just stand there. We were waiting for you."

We walked over to greet her with a kiss on each cheek. We entered the room, where upbeat music filled the space. We greeted the guys as well, though it was less pleasant since their cheeks were sticky with sweat. It wasn’t surprising. They hadn’t slacked off this morning. They had already started tearing everything apart. The mirrors were dismantled, and the door on the right had been removed, revealing the hallway Lucy mentioned last time. If I remember correctly, the classrooms will be there.

- "Wow. Looks like you’ve made good progress," Lucy commented.

- "Yeah, pretty much," Aitana replied. "Jenni knows how to keep us motivated."

We laughed as she raised the beer she was drinking. A pack was lying in a corner, along with a few empty glass bottles. I wasn’t sure how long they’d been there, but it seemed like they’d been working since early this morning.

- "We didn’t know where to start, so we decided to tackle this area."

- "Yeah, yeah, it’s fine," Lucy said, making the same observation as me. "Have you started on the locker rooms yet?" she asked, glancing in the other direction.

- "No, that’s the next step," her best friend admitted.

- "Alright. Well, I think that’s a priority, along with the break room at the back. The furniture for those two rooms will arrive in a few weeks."

- "Okay, we’ll keep working on that then. We were just waiting for your orders, Commander."

Alexia and I stifled a laugh. It was quickly stopped by her mock-serious glare. Jenni gave us a knowing smile. After all, that nickname was here to stay. It suited her personality. But honestly, we couldn’t deny that we’d all be lost without her. Even now, she was playing the role of project manager.

- "Do you already have plans for how it’ll look?" I asked her.

- "Of course. We worked with an architect. Do you want to see the final design?"

- "Well, yeah!" I feigned offense that she hadn’t shown me yet.

- "Oh, sorry," she teased. "Jenni, where did you put the copies of the plans?"

"Uh, I think upstairs, in the office. We didn’t need them today. »

- Thank you.

- Can I come with you? Ale asks as I grab Lucy's hand.

- Yeah, sure, my girlfriend replies.

We head upstairs. Nothing has been touched here yet. I doubt much needs to be redone. It's a bit old, but it will just need a fresh coat of paint and probably some cleaning too. We stand at the front of the office while Lucy rummages through the drawers one by one.

- Ah, here they are.

She places them in front of us with a triumphant look. I smile, noticing how proud she is of her work. And she should be—it all looks fantastic. The color scheme is navy blue and white, with black aluminum accents like the entryway they plan to install. It gives an industrial vibe, a style I often see and love. At least I won’t worry about our tastes clashing if we ever decide to pick or even build a house together. Despite that, they've still kept the authenticity and charm of the stone walls.

- Do you like it? The plans can still be changed, but we can’t alter the major parts anymore.

She's talking fast, and her expression is a bit tense. Our opinions must matter a lot. I don’t answer right away, lingering over the locker room plans. There will be cabins on one side and showers on the other, with a small private stall for privacy. The idea is well thought out. Of course, there are also toilets. The color theme remains the same, and it looks like the mirrors they removed from the main room will be reused here.

- It’s great, I break the suspense first. What do you think?

- Same here, Ale responds. Honestly, you guys made excellent choices.

I continue examining the plans for the back area, where they plan to refresh the hallway. The toilets won’t be touched, but the break room will be completely redone. Again, the blue stands out, with minimalist furniture and a blue accent wall.

- That must have taken a lot of work, she adds.

- Quite a bit, yeah, but between weekends and my evenings at the dorm, we managed to make it happen.

The final plans are for the rooms reserved for common classes. I also notice a room marked as an office.

- What’s this room for? I ask, pointing to it.

- It’s for personal follow-ups. We thought it would be better to have a room that offers privacy.

- Why not use this office? I ask, gesturing to the one we’re standing in.

- We didn’t want members to have access to the back area. A sign will be put up saying it's staff-only. I don’t think people will linger here, but the idea isn’t to supervise them all the time. Plus, important documents and storage will be kept here.

I nod. It makes sense. At least they won’t have to worry about surveillance. I frown, lingering over the other classroom plans. Oddly enough, they seem very plain—just white walls, which is strange compared to the rest.

- Why won’t the classrooms be decorated?

- Ah, you noticed? I was wondering the same thing, Ale points out.

We both look up at Lucy. My question seems to have amused her.

- To be honest, Jenni and I talked about it for a while. We want you to handle the decor for those rooms.

I’m speechless. Ale gives me a big smile and pats my back in support.

- A-are you serious?

- Yeah! I’ve seen what you did with your room in Barcelona. You’re totally capable of this. I was going to ask you about it—I just hadn’t had the chance yet. These rooms don’t need repairs, just renovation and decoration, so there’s no rush. What do you think? Will you take it on?

- Of course she’ll accept! Ale exclaims. That would be awesome!

I blush, flattered that she thought of me for this task.

- Yeah, sure… I think I can do that if you really want me to. Do you have any ideas already?

- Not really, she admits. We held off so you’d have the freedom to imagine what you want. But we can give you some suggestions if you prefer.

- Honestly, you caught me off guard, I chuckle nervously. We’ll have to talk more about it.

She smiles knowingly, and I think I understand. My little guess was right.

- If it becomes your next obsession, that’s fine with me.

I roll my eyes, laughing. Alexia watches us, not fully understanding the situation but wisely choosing not to intrude, sensing it’s a private conversation between us.

- Well, how about we go help the others? That’s what we’re here for, right?

That’s how we spent the rest of the day, helping our friends. Lucy was right. I needed to see something different, to enjoy life. I was happy to spend time with them. Everything was done in good spirits. The girls were demolishing things while we, the girls, were in charge of loading the van Jenni rented with the old furniture. We made several trips to the nearest dump. It took most of our time because of the traffic, but it was fun. We also went to the mall across the street to restock water and beer since we were running low. It’s really convenient having a building like that so close. I’m sure it’ll attract a lot of people—after all, everyone goes to the mall, so they won’t miss the gym’s sign. One thing’s for sure: we laughed a lot throughout the day. I was finally able to forget about my life for a while. Lucy and Alexia got along so well. I’m even starting to wonder if she might prefer Alexia to Mapi. I guess I’ll never know. It’s not something Lucy would admit, knowing her. By the end of the afternoon, we’d cleared out the break room. Lucy promised the guys we’d come back next week to help with the locker rooms, which are much bigger. In any case, I was happy to be there. At least I knew I’d be doing something other than studying. Our friends suggested we stay for dinner, and we agreed. We ended up at a pizza place nearby. Something tells me we’ll become regulars there. They serve pizzas, but also pasta dishes. Tonight, we all had pizza. Lucy and I ordered two different ones so we could share. They were excellent, but next time I think I’ll try the pasta to see if it’s as good. 

The day came to an end. We said our goodbyes late at night before everyone headed home. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as exhausted when we left as I’d been when we arrived. Lucy seemed to feel the same way.

- We could make cookies, I suggested.

- Cookies? she laughed. Why cookies?

- Well, we’re not tired. Might as well do something productive. We could bring them to the girls tomorrow. They’d love that.

- Wow... why not? But I’m not sure I have everything we need, she said, already checking her cupboards.

- Well, how about a chocolate cake then? You must have some chocolate, right?

Lucy laughed and finally pulled out a bar of dark chocolate.

- Yes, I do. That’s doable.

- Cool! Let’s get to work, then.

I rolled up my sleeves, making Lucy laugh.

- Slow down, master chef. Start by washing your hands.

- You just had to kill my enthusiasm, huh? I said with a playful pout.

- No, I’m teaching you. A good chef knows you always wash your hands before starting, she teased with a wink.

I laughed but followed her advice. After everything we did today, it wasn’t exactly sanitary to start cooking without cleaning up first.

- Maybe we should shower before starting, huh? We’ve been sweating all day.

- No, I’d lose my motivation, I admitted.

- True, you’re right. Alright, let’s get to work.

After washing her hands too, she pulled out a cookbook. I had to admit, I’d never made a chocolate cake before. I felt a little embarrassed because it’s such a basic thing.

- So, I’ll read the ingredients, and you get them out.

- Maybe it makes more sense to do it the other way around, right? Since you know where everything is.

- Alright, if you say so, she teased.

I list the ingredients for her, and she places them on the countertop. It's time to begin. She preheats the oven, and then we get to work. Everything is done with a cheerful mood. Nothing is too serious. She has me follow the recipe, pouring the ingredients into a bowl, while she takes care of melting the butter and chocolate over a bain-marie.

"Why don't you just use the microwave, since you have one?" I teased.

"I prefer doing it this way. It's how I was taught. It's supposed to be better. Plus, no microwaves involved."

"Hmm... if you say so."

I dip my finger into the melted mixture and bring it to my mouth once everything has melted, abandoning my bowl that's been ready for a while.

"Hey, don’t touch that."

"We could totally eat this as is too."

"Unless you want a stomachache, sure, we can," she teased.

I pouted to show my dissatisfaction.

"My grandmother used to forbid me from eating the batter like that, but she always let me lick the bowl at the end," I shared.

"Well, you can lick the bowl too if you want," she laughed. "Alright, all that's left is to mix everything together. Do you want to handle it?"

"Can you do it? I never managed to do it right when I was a kid."

"You've grown up since then, you know?" she teased. "Come on, you'll do it."

She tugged on the sleeve of my sweater to pull me in front of her. I frowned but took the whisk and mixed our two bowls together. Lucy finished up when she noticed my movements were slowing down. Smiling playfully, I dabbed my finger in the mix and smeared it on her face. Lucy gasped in surprise.

"You dared!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I moved closer to lick her cheek, trying to erase the evidence. Lucy backed away immediately, but it was too late—I had already cleaned it up. She wiped her face with her sleeve.

"Oh, so you want to play, huh?"

She dipped her fingers into the batter, and I laughed as she pinned me against the counter before I could escape. She slowly dragged her fingers from my forehead to my chin, smearing the rest down my neck.

"Come on, that’s over the top," I giggled.

"What? I’m just going to clean it up like you did," she said mischievously.

I tried to wriggle out of her grip, but it was a lost cause. She was holding me too tightly, her body fully pressed against mine. There was no way out.

"It's my turn to get even," she whispered before kissing my forehead.

I kept laughing as she continued her "clean-up" down my nose. I had stopped resisting. I was the one who had started the playful mess, so I wasn't going to stop her. Things got more intense when she reached my lips. She lingered particularly long where the last bit of chocolate had been. We kissed, devouring each other’s mouths, before she moved down to my chin. Our eyes locked with heavy intensity. A warmth stirred deep in my stomach. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at me with such desire. I bit my lip as she moved even lower after finishing with my chin. She ended up at my neck, and I realized why she had smeared so much chocolate there. 

Breathing shallowly, I closed my eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing. I gripped the counter behind me to keep my balance. She alternated between using her tongue, sucking, and giving soft kisses. A moan escaped my lips, and I immediately covered my mouth with my hand. I realized she had just bitten the edge of my collarbone. She lifted her head to meet my eyes again. The knot in my stomach tightened even more. There was a delicious tension in the air. She wanted me—it was clear from her eyes. We stayed in that position for a moment, neither of us breaking the silence that was filled with meaning. It was now or never. She was waiting for me to react, but I didn’t know what to do. Inside, I was panicking, but I wanted this. I could feel it in every part of me. When she started to pull back, I couldn’t let it end like that. I grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her passionately. I needed her. My move surprised her, and she leaned into me with her full weight. We were dangerously close to breaking apart. We devoured each other with our eyes, silently asking what was next.

“I want this,” I whispered. “Please.”

I was grateful she hadn’t asked the question first. I preferred making the choice myself. She appreciated my response, as I could tell by the low growl that escaped her throat.

“Are you sure…?” she asked.

I nodded as I returned to her lips. I could feel her smile as my arms wrapped around her neck, pulling her closer. I heard her chuckle when she suddenly lifted me off the ground. Her lips didn’t give me time to cry out.

“It’s all for you tonight, Princess,” she whispered, attacking my neck again.

Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around her waist and tilted my head to the side. I never knew where she got her strength from, but I wasn’t surprised anymore. She paused for a moment at the edge of the kitchen, and I realized she was turning off the oven. Then, expertly, she returned to my neck as we headed down the hallway. I didn’t even notice what was happening around us before I was pinned against the wall of our bedroom. That thought alone heightened my excitement. Lucy’s hips ground against my most sensitive spot, and if I wasn’t sure before, I could now feel the dampness there. I would have loved for her to come back to my lips to muffle the sounds I could barely contain. Lucy must have noticed because she stopped her sweet torture on my neck, which was probably well-marked by now. She knew it was one of my weak points. Her warm breath sent shivers down my body. She nibbled on my earlobe before whispering:

“Don’t hold back your pleasure, baby,” she murmured. “I want to hear you. I need to know how you’re feeling.”

After her words, she hit just the right spot, and I couldn’t hold back the sound that escaped my lips. Damn.

"That's much better," she teased with a playful smile. "No more holding back, okay?"

I squeaked as she continued to tease between my legs with her hips, punishing me with waves of pleasure, eliciting more moans. Unable to form words, I nodded to show I understood. She didn’t give me a chance to react or even think about it—probably for the best. She kissed me again, more softly this time, as she carried me to our bed. My heart raced as her hands wandered under my sweater. I lifted my arms to help her remove the barrier that seemed to be bothering her. Her lips wanted to return to my now burning body, but I held her back for a moment.

“I-I want to see you too, please.”

My voice was fragile, pleading in the moment. Lucy laughed softly but nodded. For the first time, she gave me a bit of space, sitting up on top of me.

"You don’t have to ask, you know. You just need to undress me..."

I smiled timidly and pulled off her sweater, tossing it somewhere in the room.

"You don’t really give me the time," I teased her.

She laughed, and to my surprise, she quickly removed her bra, letting it join the pile of clothes. I was mesmerized by the sight before me. Lucy was a stunning woman. I still wondered what I had done to deserve her...

"Is this better?" she murmured.

I nodded, bringing my gaze back to hers. I blushed, knowing she had caught me staring.

"Go ahead," she whispered. "Don’t be shy. Everything is yours, my love."

With a touch of shyness, I brought my hand to her left breast. She shivered slightly at the contact. I noticed her watching me with a small smile. I lingered on her perfect chest. It wasn’t too large or too small. As soon as my finger grazed her nipple, it hardened instantly, a clear sign that her excitement matched mine. I finally looked back up into her eyes, and she nodded, giving me silent permission. I gently cupped her breast, caressing it more fully. I had been waiting for this moment for so long. It fit perfectly in my palm. I took my time. I wanted to explore every inch of her body. I rolled us over so that I was on top. With my occupied hand, I continued to caress her more confidently. My other hand supported me as I leaned down to focus on her other breast with my mouth. I kissed every part I could, even letting my tongue trail over certain spots. My excitement was building fast, and it seemed Lucy’s was too, given how she squirmed beneath me. I gained confidence as she didn’t hold back her sounds. The most intense moment came when I sucked her nipple hard. I wanted to take my time, to savor the moment, but that clearly wasn’t in her plans. Her hands quickly found their way to my back. The need to feel her bare skin against mine prompted me to let her undress me too. I gasped when she suddenly flipped us over, letting our chests press against each other for the first time after she had removed my last piece of clothing from the top.

- I said it was for you tonight. I intend to keep my promise.

- Bab-

I don’t have time to protest before she returns to my lips, my neck, and finally my chest. She kisses me everywhere, her tongue joining the dance from the start. I close my eyes to savor the sensation I had almost forgotten. With Feli, everything was quick. She didn’t linger on foreplay, preferring to get straight to the point. Experiencing such tenderness again brings tears to my eyes. Lucy, unaware of my tears, continues her torment, alternating between each breast with her hand or her mouth. She’s everywhere, for my perfect pleasure. It’s when she moves back up towards me that she notices my state.

- Hey, what’s wrong? We can stop if it’s too much for you.

- N-no, don’t... D-don’t stop, p-please.

Despite myself, tears come in streams. I didn’t want to ruin this moment. Not in any way. Lucy slides her fingers under my eyelids, as she has become accustomed to doing.

- D-don’t stop, please, I beg her.

She kisses me tenderly. This gesture calms me a bit. I return her sweet kisses, adding more passion to the next ones. She reignites the flame with her hands continuing to caress my chest.

- It’s going to be okay, she whispers. Tell me what I should do. Or show me if you prefer.

I nod and try to stop my tears once and for all. She still wants me, even with my disheveled mind and the tears that must have affected my appearance. My heart burns as much as my body. I linger my hands on her jeans, struggling with her belt with my trembling hands. I want to go faster, and Lucy chuckles at my sudden impatience.

- Okay, wait. Slow down.

She lifts herself to help me undress her. We soon find ourselves both in just our underwear, warm as embers after multiple caresses and kisses. Everything is soft. Lucy returns to my chest, now as marked by her as my neck. Her body fits perfectly with mine, moving slowly, making sure our thighs touch each other. I press against her from time to time, without realizing it. She was heating me up, and my desire quickly becomes too powerful and uncontrollable. Then comes the moment I was most apprehensive about. She starts to move down, but by reflex, I pull her back towards me.

- Relax, darling. Trust me.

I let her go with those simple words after a final exchanged kiss. She kisses my stomach first to tease me, though I was already at my limit. To make things difficult, I don’t make it easy for her. I squirm, though I have to keep my stomach contracted the entire time. I recognize some places where she lingers. They are where my scars are. I also flinch when she playfully nibbles. Then, she stops when she reaches my last piece of underwear. Surprisingly, she doesn’t remove it. She prefers to go lower, starting again from my knee. It’s too much. It tickles, as I am sensitive there. I try to close my thighs together, but Lucy holds them open with a laugh.

- Stop torturing me, I reply in a short breath.

- Come on, baby. You won’t escape this, she teases, continuing her trail of kisses. I want to kiss every part of your body.

I moan as she continues inside my thighs. Damn. I can’t resist much longer.

- P-promise me you’ll come back up after, I beg. I want you with me.

I don’t want to be the only one having pleasure tonight. I don’t know what she had planned, but I want us to come together for our first time.

- Alright, she murmurs against my warm skin. I promise.

She continues her path gradually, passing over my legs. I don’t remember being this sensitive here. I can’t stay still. Lucy keeps me pinned down with one hand on my stomach and the other on my thigh. I can’t close them or escape. She understands that she needs to hold them firmly to achieve her goal. A goal she eventually reaches. I don’t even dare to look down. All I know is that my panties must be quite wet in her eyes. I feel the coolness as Lucy breathes on it to tease me.

- Look at me.

I do so with difficulty. Seeing her at my center, holding my legs, makes my stomach churn. I’m struggling to realize that this is happening. The woman who, a few months ago, was tormenting me with training sessions to bring me down to earth, is now between my legs. I don’t protest when she pulls on the waistband of my black lace thong. I don’t know what possessed me to wear it this morning, but I’m thankful now. She does it gently to give me time to push her away if needed, but I don’t. Especially not in my state. I want her. Now. Still, she takes wicked pleasure in driving me crazy like she did a few minutes ago with her kisses.

- Luce, I complain.

- Oh, are you impatient now?

I move my hips as she has long since removed my last barrier. She gazes at me, and I blush. I thought I would feel vulnerable when this happened, but the way she looks at me makes me melt. With a smile, she teases my clitoris with her finger.

- I should make you beg.

- Y-you wouldn’t dare!

- And why not?

She plays with me and even dares to laugh. I plan to get my revenge when it’s her turn. As if she could read my thoughts, she dives right into my center to kiss it. I can still feel her smile. Just from the contact, I moan loudly. Her tongue takes over before she sucks on my sensitive skin. I cry out, propping myself up on my elbows at the sensation.

- Oh, fuck!

I can feel Lucy’s smile again. She doesn’t say anything, just pulls me down with her arm. I let myself fall back, closing my eyes. The sensation is exquisite. I had forgotten what it felt like to experience such pleasure. Her tongue explores every inch of my little garden, eliciting more than one moan or cry of pleasure. I cling to the sheets as best I can to avoid pulling her hair. If she had been at my level, her back would be covered in scratches. She mixes it with some sucking before going even lower. It’s the last straw. My moans fill the room, and I quickly grab her hair. I no longer know if I want to restrain her or pull her away. My head isn’t in the game anymore, and Lucy takes wicked pleasure in building the pressure in my stomach. I’ve never felt such pleasure before. When I reach my peak, I pull her hair. She quickly understands the message, finishing the moment with a final little kiss before coming back up. The absence of her mouth is already replaced by her hand. My own can now scratch her back. With my other hand, I quickly venture under her completely wet underwear. A short breath escapes her. It’s my turn to leave her with no opportunity. I take her lips, covered in my moisture. We caress each other while kissing. When she inserts a finger into me, I have to break the connection.

- O-oh my God.

I contract around her finger, no longer used to such presence. Lucy, who had started moving, stops immediately.

- Are you okay? she murmurs with concern.

- Y-yes! Don’t stop.

Understanding the meaning of my positive reaction, she waits for me to relax before adding a second finger. She doesn’t give me time to think and starts a gentle rhythm. I’m tense at first, but pleasure soon takes over as she speeds up. I realize I’ve fallen behind on my end. I have to concentrate fully to reciprocate. It’s intense. We are making love. The room echoes with our sounds. Lucy manages to find my lips to seal them together one last time. I struggle to return the kiss. My focus is much lower. Especially as our last acceleration takes its toll on us. We scream one final time in unison when we climax. I’m overwhelmed by her intensity. My teeth sink into Lucy’s shoulder, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. She’s in the same state as me, against my neck. The room eventually quiets down, with only our ragged breathing filling the space. It took us both a moment to recover. She’s the first to remove her fingers before I do. I’m exhausted, and my eyelids have become heavy. Still, I remain awake. Lucy kisses me one last time before getting up. I watch her carefully as she removes her underwear that had stayed on until the end. It must be quite a mess now. She pulls back the covers, and with a tremendous effort, I slip underneath. She immediately joins me, wrapping her arms around me. I smile, realizing what just happened.

- I love you, I murmur.

- I love you even more, she whispers, kissing my temple. Have sweet dreams, my love.

Under her words, I finally let myself drift off to sleep.

[oneofstarkskids]

so high school (part 3)

part 1, part 2

genre: fluff

summary: high school au!! how is bucky supposed to break it to you that everything that's happened started with a lie?

bucky didn't know how long he could keep it up. the whole facade. he actually had to scramble to hide his report card from you.

you weren't his dad. he shouldn't be afraid of you seeing his grades.

but he was finally spending time with you. could he have made things simple and just asked you out like a normal person? no. this was more fun.

plus it's not like anyone was getting hurt. he was passing all his classes as usual. the only down side seemed to be the lying. he would have to tell you eventually...right? or maybe he could just...

he started to envision it. the two of you sitting on a deck with james junior in your lap. "and that's how mommy met daddy. because he's dumb as a rock."

or in the later years. "do you need me to organize your pills, honey?" bucky would probably roll his eyes, "i can count, doll."

okay so maybe he was overthinking, but that didn't mean that all of this couldn't turn into a problem. besides, he wanted to be honest with you.

relationships shouldn't be built on lies. so bucky decided to tell you the truth.

he met you in the library, like he'd done almost every day this week. he noticed the sullen expression on your face immediately.

"what's wrong?" he asked. you didn't have any problem telling him. the two of you had become sort of, close.

"it's my friend sam. he said he was working yesterday, but i saw someone post him on their story at some hangout," you sighed. "it doesn't matter. he can hang out with whoever he wants. i just can't believe he lied to me."

bucky froze. oh. shit.

"we're best friends. i don't understand why he felt like he couldn't tell me the truth. it hurts, you know," you said. and because bucky did know, he looked down at the table.

"i have to tell you something."

you study his expression. not that it was difficult, bucky was usually an expressive person. he seemed a bit nervous.

"i was never going to fail," he said quietly.

you frowned. "what?"

bucky tried to explain, "i was never getting kicked off the team. i've never failed a class. math and science are actually my strongest subjects."

bucky couldn't stop imagining the look of betrayal that was probably on your face. it took a lot for him to look up to meet your eyes.

but when he did, you were...smiling?

you suddenly laughed like it was all ridiculous. bucky didn't know how to react. and he had sisters, so he knew that your laughter could turn into a lecture at any moment.

"why?" you managed between wheezes.

bucky thought back to the beginning of it all, "well, i liked you for a really long time. all my friends were saying i should ask you out, but i guess i was too scared."

"you were scared?" you couldn't understand how someone like bucky barnes could be insecure for even a moment.

yet, he nodded.

"so you decided to create an elaborate plan to spend all this time with me instead of just asking me on a date?" you asked.

bucky chuckled with embarrassment, "maybe i am stupid after all."

you shook your head, "i don't think it's stupid. i think it's cute."

he turned a bright shade of pink that had you feeling confident.

you smirked, "but don't think that means you're getting out of that date."

[skyfullofcelestia]

The Storm on the Horizon

Story: Everyday misunderstandings and how would they handle them.

Characters: Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gepard

Dan Heng

Deep down in his soul, he knew it must be just a misunderstanding. But the absence of your smile every time you see him, no more random touches on public places from you even though you knew he prefers to keep them private… He loved being loved without any shame, but never told you. And now he regrets it. You were his biggest cheerleader and now you felt like a stranger. Dan Heng spent much time wondering if the two of you are a good match. He preferred his silent solitude while you were always the loud one, cheering him up for every small accomplishment. Without your presence, his life felt quiet. Too quiet.

“Y/N?” Dan Heng jumped up when you finally came by his cabin.

“Hiii.” You smile without the usual spark in your eyes. “I just stopped by for… this.” You point at a small bag you left behind.

“Yes, of course.” He mumbled, “Why… why do you want to take it?” Dan Heng asked, not able to resist questioning you anymore. 

“Ummm...” You frowned confused. “I just want to take my cosmetics bag. I need it. Is there a problem?”

“No. You just kept it here since we began dating and now you are taking it away.” His small wrinkle in between the brows deepened.

“March organized a last-minute sleepover. I thought that you would not mind���” You stopped yourself and let out a deep sigh. “What is this all about?”

“I have wanted to ask you.” Dan Heng looked at you with a hesitation written all over his face. “You have been so distant lately, I was wondering if…”

“You would be too.” You cut him off. “Asking Mr. Yang if there is a point to stay in a relationship with me.”

“I-I did not mean it like that!” Dan Heng raised his voice with realization. “I trust him and I needed to ask him…” 

“If you should be in a relationship with me? Like he knows us more than we do?” You smiled with disbelief.

“No, of course not. There is just this feeling that I cannot get rid of. You are so bubbly, always excited for every new day and adventure ahead of us. I prefer my own company, being able to work in peace. We are so different.”

“And maybe that was the beauty of our relationship. We were able to give each other what we lacked. I brought you spontaneity while you anchored me when I flew too high.” 

“I agree.” He smiled a little. “But you are talking in the past time.”

“Maybe you were right to doubt us.”

“You do not love me anymore?” Dan Heng pierced you with a painful stare. 

“You opened the room full of doubts for me. But you should ask that yourself first.”

Dan Heng studied your face for a moment trying to find the right words.

“I love you.” He finally interrupted the silence. “I have loved you since the day I met you. When you are next to me, I feel like I am home. Home where I can feel… safe, comfortable, and loved.” He tried to stop himself from saying more, but the words kept pouring. “I should not doubt you, your love, my love, us… I imagined my future without you and it felt… empty. I do not want to be without you. Life like that feels not worth living.”

You wrapped your hands around his neck, caressing the back of his head. Your heart felt full, but light at the same time. The heaviness that was dragging you down for days was suddenly gone. You grabbed your phone, quickly excusing yourself from today’s plans because you were not planning to leave Dan Hengs's cabin anytime soon.

Jing Yuan 

His days were always busy, usually gone without even realizing it. But today was dragging like never before. Jing Yuan checked the time for the hundredth time. It is past your lunch break but for some reason, you did not stop by like you usually did every Friday. Now it was the third time without your pastries and even though he loved them very much, he knew that your absence was making him sad more than his sweet tooth and growling stomach.

“General! Where are you going? We have an important meeting with…” Yanqing protested, confused.

“I will be right back!” He said right before a loud slap of his office door.

….

“What is going on?” A tall shadow appeared out of nowhere. 

Jing Yuan was standing right in front of you with his arms crossed on his chest.

“Why?” You almost chuckled.

“Why? I should be the one asking you why you left your man hungry again.”

“Honey, I already told you that pastries and sweets are not real meals. You need to eat a proper lunch.”

“I Know.” He frowned. “But you always bake for me. You were the one who said that it is one of your ways of showing your love.”

“I am just busy. I will bake you your favorites tomorrow, ok?” 

“That does not count.”

You rolled your eyes without a word and turned your back to him trying to get back to work when a big hand grabbed your arm and turned you back to him.

“Talk to me.” He whispered gently. “What is going on?”

You looked him deeply in his eyes, wondering if you should tell him or not. He should be the one to find out by himself, but there is a possibility that he would not.

“I had a birthday. We were supposed to visit my parents. We just had our anniversary…”

His face almost darkened. How could he forget?

“So many occasions and you forgot about all of them. I do not care about the gifts or big celebrations, but I would love to be able to go to sleep with you next to me at least twice a year. Is that so much to ask?”

“It is the bare minimum that I promised you.” He looked down at his hands. “And I was not able to keep my promise.”

“I know you are a busy man, Mr. General. But I need you too.” You sighed. “Maybe we should take a break.”

“What?!” Jing Yuan almost growled. “And what is the point of that? You are upset that I do not have time for you, so you propose to separate so we can spend even less time together?”

“It does not make sense, I know. But I need some space to think things through.”

“I will give you any corner of the space. Just pick one and I will bring it to you on the silver plate.”

“That is not what I meant.”

Before you can protest any further Jing Yuan pulled you to him and tightly wrapped you into his embrace.

“If you love me, I will not let you go anywhere. We do not need space from each other. We need the exact opposite.” He whispered into your hair. “Pack your stuff, we are leaving.”

“What? I am in the middle of work.” You tried to pull away from him, but he did not let you.

“General's order.” He smiled.

“But, but… My boss will not like it.” 

“I will deal with him, darling.” He smiled sheepishly. “Now let me make it all up to you in a really special place.”

To say that Jing Yuan had not left you alone for even an hour that weekend would be an understatement.

Gepard

Another long and exhausting day at work has not stopped him from waiting for you until late at night. When the jingle of the keys finally filled the quiet hallway of your home, Gepard straightened himself on the sofa.

“Hello, baby.” You smiled. “Why are you up so late?”

“I was waiting for you.” 

“Ok? Have I done something wrong and you want to arrest me now?” You grinned at him as you made yourself comfortable right next to him.

But he pulled away, making your carefree smile disappear.

“We need to talk.” 

“Obviously.” You frowned. “Can you just tell me what is going on?”

“Your behavior is confusing me. You keep telling me how much you love me, but you act oppositely.”

“How? Why do you think that? I am even more confused than before.”

Gepard´s puppy eyes locked with yours and you realize that he truly meant every word he said.

“Oh, baby.” You cupped his face with both of your hands. “Just tell me what is bothering you. I am sure we can work it out.”

“I love you, I want to spend my whole life with you. You are the most important person in my life. But so do my sisters. I was disappointed when you could not make it to our family dinner. For the third time.”

“It was just really bad timing.” You almost chuckled relieved. 

“I want you all to at least know each other. I would love you all to be friends after some time.”

Without a word, you sat down on his lap showering him with dozens of kisses all over his face.

“Please, answer me.” Gepard tried to fight you off unsuccessfully.

“Do you know why I was out so late?”

“You were out with your friends.” He frowned, confused.

“Yes. And one of them is called Serval.” You smiled.

“Mine Serval?”

“I only know one.” You shrugged.

“Oh,” Gepard scratched his head. “So you two are friends? You do not hate her or anything like that?”

“No, my silly baby. I do not hate any of your sisters. I was just busy so I could not meet them all at once.”

“Now my turn!” Gepard laid you down on the sofa and positioned himself over you as he drowned you with kisses all over your body. “I am so happy.” He murmured into your skin.

[iomoru]

A Study In Curiosity

A/n: I was just peacefully writing my albedo fic then the next thing I know is that have 3 requests outside my door (I'LL DO IT LATER I PROMISE)

Genre: Canon Verse, Fluff, Gn! Reader, Albedo x Reader, Second Person, Proofread

Summary: While reading a romance novel from Inazuma, Albedo stumbles upon a kissing scene and becomes curious about the experience. He asks you if you would help him try it, leading to a teasing, tension-filled moment as Albedo inches closer. However, the kiss is interrupted by Sucrose, who quickly leaves upon realizing the situation. Albedo, ever composed, suggests you could finish what you started next time.

The soft light of Albedo's lab cast gentle shadows across the stone walls, highlighting the neatly stacked books and scattered alchemical equipment. You had been quietly assisting him, organizing notes and occasionally handing him a vial or two. But today, something was different. A rare sight rested on the table before him—a book, its pages slightly worn, the cover adorned with intricate designs that clearly marked it as a romance novel from Inazuma.

Albedo sat beside you, absorbed in its contents, his brows furrowed in concentration. You had noticed he had been reading it for quite some time, occasionally making small, thoughtful sounds. Then, without warning, he closed the book with a soft thud and turned his gaze to you, his eyes curious but calm.

"There’s something in this novel I’ve been meaning to ask you," he said, his voice as analytical as ever, though with a subtle hint of something else—something less scientific and more...human. "It describes an interesting scenario—kissing, to be precise. I’ve never quite experienced that myself, and I’m curious to see if it really conveys the feelings described here. Would you be willing to assist me with this?"

Your heart skipped a beat, your face instantly heating up at the request. Albedo, of all people, was asking you to help him…kiss? The thought sent your mind spiraling. You tried to stay composed, but the mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbled up within you.

"I—uh…" You hesitated, unsure of how to respond to such a bold request. Albedo, ever the observant one, noticed your flustered state immediately.

"You seem nervous," he remarked, his lips curling into a small, teasing smile. "That’s normal, I suppose. But there’s no need to be. This is purely for the sake of understanding, after all."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Y-yeah, okay…I can help."

Albedo’s gaze softened, and he shifted closer to you, his fingers lightly brushing your chin. His touch was gentle, but firm enough to guide you as he tilted your face up toward his. Your heart raced as you met his calm blue eyes, the proximity making you hyper-aware of every breath, every tiny movement.

He leaned in slowly, studying your expression with that ever-curious look of his. "You’re quite flustered," he observed with a faint chuckle. "Interesting reaction. Should I take that as a sign you’re enjoying this?"

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. His playful tone was making it worse, your face now fully flushed, your mind running wild with nervous excitement.

Just as his lips were about to brush against yours, the door creaked open.

"Master Albedo, I—" Sucrose’s voice suddenly filled the room, cutting through the tension like a blade. She stood frozen in the doorway, her wide eyes darting between the two of you, taking in the intimate scene. Realization dawned on her face, and she quickly stammered, "I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt! I’ll just—excuse me!"

With that, she hurriedly backed out of the room, closing the door behind her in a flustered panic.

You and Albedo remained still for a moment, the tension hanging in the air before he finally let out a soft sigh. He leaned back slightly, the teasing smile returning to his lips.

"Well, it seems we’ve been interrupted," he mused, his thumb gently brushing your lower lip before pulling away. "Perhaps…next time, we won’t be."

The promise in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could respond, Albedo stood up, returning to his usual composure as if nothing had happened.

"Shall we get back to work?" he asked, though the playful glint in his eyes suggested that this moment wasn’t something either of you would forget anytime soon.

A/n: I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this tbh

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[lizzyscribbles]

You know what I realized yesterday through an event that I desire to never deal with again in my entire life?? Toga’s parents really did suck.

Today’s Rambling Thought: Toga, and why her parents deserve hell.

Picture this, it’s the evening, I’m getting ready to get on a discord call with my friend because we’ve been watching MHA together and we usually chat between episodes (it’s their first time watching the show, we’re in season three). I go to use the bathroom and what do I find?? Remnants!!! Of a bird!! I’m not talking about a few feathers here, I’m talking bones, a pile of internal organs, and a half mutilated wing covered in blood and God knows what else. Completely dismembered. Of course, there are two potential culprits in this crime scene, both cats. (I should mention these aren’t my cats, I was watching them for a friend), but I’m pretty sure the one circling my feel and meowing proudly is the one. So, I get to clean up bird guts at like 8PM, trying my hardest not to gag.

AND YOU KNOW WHAT I DID TO THE POTENTIAL CRIMINAL??

Nothing. I patted his head and gave him a scratch.

All this delightful context to put into perspective this realization that came to me later that night, how is it that I - someone who actually had to clean up a mutilated bird - nicer to a cat that ISN’T MY OWN than Toga’s parents were TO THEIR OWN DAUGHTER. Now I’m no saint, and I realize a cat and a human are completely different, but come on, for real guys?

I don’t think we’re told how old Toga is in the scene where she’s offering her parents the bird (if you know please share) but we know she’s a little kid. Like I’ve said before, I’m studying psychology in college and I worked with kids in foster care, so if I know anything at all it’s this: Children are little sponges, and they automatically want to do whatever it is you tell them not to do. It’s a natural part of development, and actually something we don’t really lose as we get older (the specific term is rebel psychological reactance I think). So it’s really no surprise that after years and years of being told nothing but no when it came to these urges she had, she eventually just snapped. The kids I worked with were the same, the longer they were in the shelter I worked at the less they felt inclined to listen when we told them no, and I don’t think I need to explain why that’s dangerous.

Now, I’m not saying that consuming another’s blood as a child or gnawing on yourself in your sleep is normal behavior or something a parent shouldn’t be concerned about, but there’s a reason therapy focuses on replacing negative coping skills with positive ones. Did they ever go beyond just calling her weird and creepy? Did they take her to a doctor get a blood test and find out if maybe there’s a reason she was doing this beyond just being freaky? Does she have an iron deficiency?? I’m just rambling now and that’s pure speculation, but no, they just kinda insulted her over and over, told her not to, and sent her to quirk counseling which IS NOT a substitute for actual therapy I’m sure. The bottom line here is that you can’t take something away and not add anything in. You can’t tell someone not to do something and not supplement it with something else.

It’s little wonder that once she snapped, she went straight to “I just want to do whatever I want”, because she spent her whole life being told not to be something. I think it’s easy to forget that Toga is still legally a child at the start of the series, one who has not been taught how to safely deal with her urges. No wonder she felt more at home with the league of villains, they gave her what she never got. No wonder Ochaco’s actions in the final chapter shocked her so much. She was never accepted for who she was until then. She was never treated like she was a normal person.

The people who were supposed to love her most in the world saw her as a disease to be rid of, and I that disgusts me more than a dead bird ever will.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk, I’m gonna go ramble about how, as an author and a fan, I love her end even if it makes me so sad, and Ochaco’s part in it.

[yoichiris]

if i had a choice | isagi yoichi x reader

✩ you think you never stood a chance. ✩ highschool fic, heavy pining, angst with happy ending, manga spoilers for u20 arc

i'll be watching with all my support. i like you, isagi-kun.

you leave the note, along with a pair of wristbands, in isagi's locker the day of qualifying match for nationals. you had believed he would make it.

isagi doesn't come back to ichinan after losing.

you don't hear until a week later that a special program organized by the jfu has begun, and all of japan's top strikers under 18 have been invited to participate. you have no doubt that isagi is there, because he's been amazing since you've known him.

another week passes, and you hear that his mom has passed by to pick up everything from his locker.

you remember sitting with isagi at lunchtime the weeks before, pouring over strategy notes for the game. you remember watching him practice after school, turning to grin at you when he would score a goal.

you remember the coldness that had washed over you when matsukaze won the qualifying match for nationals and saw the look on isagi's face.

he disappears after that.

your heart pounds when you hear about the blue lock's match against the u20 team.

you are not prepared to see isagi on this stage. he looks completely different from the last time you saw him on your tiny high school field. there are thousands of people around you, hollering, and he's right in the middle.

you watch as he weaves across the field, his movement evolved, executing plays that you two couldn't have even have dreamt of in your notebook.

you can't take your eyes off of him. the determination that had been simmering under him before was in full force, and you could feel it. that he wasn't going to settle for less, anything worse than the best.

you grip the notebook that you had stupidly brought. it was nothing compared to this, to project blue lock. you were nothing compared to them.

you cry when isagi scores the final goal. everything about it is perfect, down to the millisecond. you understand, after all, that he's no longer the boy in your class, someone you could share your passion for soccer with.

he becomes isagi yoichi, the striker who will lead japan to win the u20 world cup.

you're at your desk studying, the notebook off to the side, when your phone buzzes.

[17:04] hey yn [17:04] do you have time come out today? [17:05] we can meet by the river, if that's okay

your heart jumps to your throat. it's been a week since the u20 match and the thought had not even crossed your mind that he still had your number.

the breezy air outside makes you shiver as you walk to the river. you sit on the grassy slope that you and isagi had shared popsicles on once.

you hear his footsteps behind you, but you're scared to turn around. you're not sure why you're here, anyway.

"yn!" isagi greets, sounding exactly like he did before he left.

you turn to look at him, straining a smile for him. he looks happy. without his blue lock uniform, you think he could be like before. but you remember the goal, and you think probably not.

you know you should congratulate him on his match, but you can't bring yourself to say anything about the event that had solidified his life away from you.

"i, uh, just got your gift," he says, after a moment of silence, "kaasan left it in my room while i was gone."

you had forgotten about the gift. the note.

"oh," you say, breathless. "do you like it?"

he laughs, "i don't wear wrist bands anymore, but i appreciate it." he looks down, "and we didn't even qualify for nationals."

ah, you think. he doesn't need them anymore.

"you won the u20 match, though," you say instead, voice on the verge of cracking, "you were amazing."

you watch as his face lights up, and even if he gets shy, you can see the way he shines. "you saw it?"

"of course," you murmur, "i was in the stadium."

you look away, picking at the grass, "that last goal was..." you try to think of the right words, "...a perfectly executed sequence of events. it was really incredible, isagi-kun."

it's quiet, and you think you've said something wrong. but when you look up to him, there's an expression on his face you can't decipher.

"you don't think it was luck?" he asks, almost incredulously.

you shake your head, "no," you say, certain, "why would it be luck?"

isagi is thinking about what tada had said about luck when he catches sight of a small package on his desk.

i like you, isagi-kun.

the words are unfamiliar. they seemed like worlds away, when all he had been thinking of are words like egoist. liking somebody was different, so fundamentally not egoistic.

he's typing to you when he receives the notification to return to blue lock. he has a few days left, he thinks, and presses send. your reply is faster than he expects.

[17:07] hi isagi-kun [17:07] sure

he recognizes the slope of your back and the wisp of your hair as he approaches the river. it feels like he hasn't seen you in forever, like his memories of you and your scribbles in your notebook are faded.

you seem distant, quieter than he remembers. he knows he's different now, but maybe you're different too?

"why would it be luck?" your words echo in his head.

but he remembers how perceptive you were, how far you'd dreamt, for him, and he feels as if he's awakened again. he takes a deep breath.

"i like you, too, y/n," isagi declares, impulsively, running on instinct. live your life as you want.

it was the last thing you had expected to hear, but it doesn't change how you feel, what you know. that he lives in a different world than you now.

"thank you, isagi-kun," you say, sounding happier than you had intended. "when are you going back to blue lock?"

he looks confused, as if that's not what you're supposed to say.

"ah, um, on monday," he clears his throat, "but i think things will be different than before."

you hum in agreement, "you're representing japan in the u20 now."

"oh, no, i meant—" he stutters, looking flustered, "i meant, i think i'll be able to contact you..."

you brush him off. you couldn't have any expectations of him, because you would never be the priority in his life. you had understood, from watching him play that match, that he would be chasing the high of goals like that for his whole life. what could you offer him, in comparison?

"and, i don't know when i'll be out next but..." he continues.

you shake your head, "it's okay," you reassure him, maybe not genuinely, "just do your best in there... for me, okay?"

you add in that last part for yourself.

isagi had thought he was talking about you and him, but he realizes halfway that you had been talking about soccer the whole time.

"yn," he calls, using your name to ground himself, "do you want to be my girlfriend?"

the blush that floods your cheeks relieves him. your face had looked so serious before, so unlike the excitement he had remembered you for. you look so cute, he thinks.

"i can't," you reply, and he can tell you don't believe your words, but he's not sure why you would say them in the first place.

"isagi-kun," you continue, hiding your face, "i want you to give your best at soccer. become the best in the world. you don't need me for that."

he's stunned. he feels as if his brain is rewiring, as if he's on the field again. but it's just you, you who had been with him since he started high school, watching videos of noel noa with him under our desk, you who had left that note in his locker right before he left for blue lock.

live your life as you want. the words echo in his mind, and what he wants is you.

"but i want you," he says.

the look on isagi's face has changed. he looks as he does when he's on the field, like when you saw him in that stadium.

but i want you.

"i—" your resolve crumbles, seeing him. "i don't—"

he stops you, and suddenly he's closer than before, a hand to steady himself on the grass beside you. he asks you again. "do you want to be my girlfriend, yn?"

the determination in his eyes makes you hopeful.

"yes," you breathe, feeling his presence overwhelm you, giving in to your instincts, "yes, i do."

he brings his head even closer to yours. "can i kiss you?"

your mind blanks, your heart races, but you nod. and when he presses his lips against yours, you can feel it: how demanding he is, how ambitious, how much he desires. as if he can keep both you and soccer.

"i'll come back," isagi whispers against your lips, "i will come back for you."

[itsbeeble]

Sour

Summary: Your story began with sour candies, and it’ll end just the same

Genre: Smut, angst

WC: ~1.9k

Pairing: song mingi x afab!reader

Warnings: small smut scene, Mingi is horny tbh, hurt and no comfort, alcohol mentions (wooyoung is drunk)

ALL PARTS: pt 1: Sour | pt 2: Bittersweet | pt 3: Tangy | true ending | alt ending

Your story began in a convenience store, over a bag of sour candy. It was a Sunday night, the day before your finals began during freshman year of college. You’d shared a class together, Calculus, but never shared a word amongst each other. That night you in the convenience store had sparked…something. Something that even you weren’t quite sure about. 

You’d been in your pajamas, just sweatpants and a sweatshirt with your hair tied back so you looked somewhat presentable to the public roaming the streets at the stroke of midnight. The straw for your half empty iced Americano rested against your lower lip, your eyes focused on the candies in front of you. He came up beside you, dressed in a tight black shirt and loose cargo pants, saying nothing to let you know he was there until he reached for a pack of sour gummy worms. His deep, gravelly voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“I say go for these,” he says, flicking the package before grabbing it off the shelf. “They taste good, not too sour and not too sweet.” You turned your exhausted gaze to the tall man with fiery hair and headphones half covering his ears. There was a small smile on his lips, one that offered little comfort to you. 

“What if I didn’t want something sour?” Mingi just shrugs and begins to walk away.

“Up to you, really. I just figured I’d give you my opinion.” You follow him to the register, the same bag of sour candies in your hands. He glances down at you, his smile growing just slightly as the tired young cashier rings him out, and he waits for you while the cashier rings out your candy.

“Why are you up, anyway,” your fingers rip open that small blue bag easily while you two walk back to the dorm buildings. 

“Studying, mostly.”

“Song Mingi?” You say in mock shock. “Studying? I never thought I’d see the day!” The taller boy laughs loudly, and you can’t help but laugh with him. It was true, though. In your class he always had his head down and the professor learned to just leave him alone during everything except exams, where he’d somehow excel. She didn’t need to know that you’d been leaving him a copy of your notes on his desk at the beginning of the next class all semester. In fact, he doesn’t need to know that either.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the girl who leaves me all of her very well organized notes stressing over a final that should be a breeze for her.” He counters, leaning down to you and nudging your shoulder. Your cheeks flush, and you turn your gaze away from him. 

“You knew?”

“You do know that I was never actually asleep, right?”

“Coulda fooled me, Mingi.”

“I do appreciate it, though.” You look at him again, and he’s still looking down at you. His arm brushes against yours, but neither feel the urge to drift back away from each other. “I need to repay you, somehow.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You shake your head, and he hums. 

~

You probably should’ve known it then. Should’ve known that getting mixed up with Mingi might not have been the best idea you’ve ever had. But fuck, if the way he fucked you didn’t feel like heaven on Earth.

The first time he fucked you, he had your back pinned against his chest, one of his feet planted firmly on his mattress, his hips pounding into you from behind. His hands pinched and tugged at your erect nipples, his face tucked into your neck as he sucked dark marks into your skin. Broken moans fell from your lips, your vision swimming with pleasure that built itself up and up, seeming to never stop. Your warm walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him tightly every time he pulled his hips back only to thrust back into you harder and faster than he had been.

Your hair stuck to your skin, your hands flailing and reaching for something, anything to hold onto to ground yourself. One of your hands fell to his hair, gripping it tightly and forcing a low groan from his throat. He pulls away from your neck, lips finding your own and you can taste the hint of sour gummies on his tongue when you suck it into your mouth. You let him lick into your mouth, practically shoving his tongue down your throat with how furiously he kissed you, but you didn’t mind. 

You probably enjoyed it a bit too much, his cock abusing that spongey spot inside of you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, one of his hands slipping down to play with your clit. The stimulation is enough to send you over the edge, spasming around him and crying out against his lips. His orgasm arrives soon after your own, thick ropes of warm cum spilling against your walls and spilling out of you while he continues to fuck you until the overstimulation becomes too much for you. 

~

It becomes a regular thing for you both, fucking each other whenever you get the chance. You both have become…something that you can’t quite name. Not quite exclusive, but not fucking anyone other than each other throughout the next few years. It confuses you, to say the least, the fact that you’re both beginning your senior year in college and still don’t have a label. 

Although now, as you sit with your body splayed across his lap and a bag of sour candies being shared between you two at a party neither of you could care less about and your fingers tangled in his bark hair, you can’t find yourself caring. Not when the kisses he places against your throat have your body thrumming with arousal. He doesn’t care that your friends are right in front of you, doesn’t care that Hongjoong keeps trying to get him to keep his hands to himself. All he sees, feels, hears, smells, and tastes is you. All he cares about is you, and the way you’re running your hand up and down his toned arm. 

“You two,” Wooyoung slurs with a plastic cup in his hand. “Are kinda gross.” He squints at you, pouting when he notices that neither of you are really paying attention to him. Your peer over at him, an eyebrow raised as he stumbles to the couch and sits next to San. You feel your eyes starting to flutter when Mingi sucks at a spot underneath your ear, your grip on his arm tightening a bit. You feel him smile against your skin. 

“Mingi,” Seonghwa’s voice is sharp. His eyes are narrowed as he looks at you both. Anger. Is that what the emotion is? The emotion in his eyes, his fists tightening at his sides. Yunho sits next to him, more uncomfortable than angry. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Your…lover? Friend? Partner? Whatever he is. He sighs against you, reluctantly pulling himself away from your skin and sliding you off of his lap to follow Seonghwa and Yunho further into the house. 

~

That should’ve been your first warning for the night. 

The second should’ve been Hongjoong’s pitying look toward you every few moments while you talk with Jongho about one of the classes you share, the excitement for your final year in college. 

Your third and final warning, the one you listened to.

“I’m glad Mingi won the bet.” 

All eyes turn to Wooyoung, the drunken man completely unbothered by his sudden declaration. There’s a mixture of emotions now. Confusion on your behalf, panic on everyone else’s. 

“What?” Hongjoong tries to shush the younger boy, but he’s persistent.

“The bet!” He chirps. “You know, if Mingi got you to sleep with him, then he’d get $100 from each of us? Didn’t he tell you?” 

It’s like the whole room goes silent. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You feel the horror and the realization setting in as you figure out what exactly Wooyoung just told you. What your friends had been hiding for so long. Though, could you really call them your friends now? Now that they’ve told you the truth? 

Your eyes search the house for Mingi, and you find him already looking at you. You can’t read the emotions in his eyes, but you can see him gnawing at his lip and his eyebrows furrowing while Seonghwa yells at him about something. It makes sense now. Why he didn’t want to put a label on you two.

In hind sight, you should’ve seen it. Although, how could you have? He always seemed like a nice guy. Always helped you if you were struggling with something, always brought you those stupid fucking sour gummies. You were completely blinded by the idea of someone showing you true affection for once that you couldn’t see the pity behind his friends’ eyes. 

~

“Y/N.” 

You don’t turn around when he calls your name. His voice cracks and trembles when he speaks. You can’t help but scoff, but you put on a brave face before you turn around. You plaster a smile onto your lips, your wipe the tears away from your eyes and pray that you can hold yourself together long enough to talk to him and get out of there, to take your car and run far, far away.

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step toward you, but the step you take back makes his stumble and freeze in his place. His hands are shaking, a far cry from the confidence he always seems to radiate. 

“It’s okay,” you force the words out, digging the nail of your thumb into your palm to keep the tears back. “I’m not mad.” You see him clench his jaw, see him start to stretch his hand out to you.

“You should be.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” The tears are starting to well up again and you take a deep breath, turning your gaze away from him. “At least you got a good fuck out of all this, you know?” The laugh you let out turns into a sob, and you put a hand over your mouth to muffle it, to try and calm your breathing enough to continue speaking. Mingi takes another step forward, and then another, grabbing onto your hand before you can get too far from him. 

“That’s not— that isn’t why I did this!” You stare at him in disbelief. 

“So why then? Why did you make the bet in the first place?” There’s no answer from him, and you bite down on your tongue. You pull your hand out of his grip, and he lets you walk away.

There’s a sour feeling boiling in your gut, and as soon as your car door shuts, you allow it to spill over. The sobs free themselves, and you let the tears run down your cheeks. 

A breakdown. One you’ll have to handle on your own this time. No one to bring over snacks and drinks while you watch stupid movies and cuddle on your couch. No friends to fall back on when you need help. Nothing. 

You’re back at the beginning again.

Alone.

[papersnatch]

Potemkin thoughts. Does he like to do things. What things. Tell me

GRABS YOU. I don't have many headcanons for Potemkin, but this ask got me thinking about his hobbies and occasional activites a little bit, so here ya go !

Wawa Woowoo Potemkin (Guilty Gear) Headcanons

(because I should probably give this a title for organization reasons)

(+ a quick doodle i made based off of one of these. don't ask where the screwdriver is going, not even i know)

Potemkin doesn't get a lot of free time of his own, because of the whole. Ya know. Being a government official thing? So he's usually preoccupied with some mundane task that Gabriel's assigned him to complete. But when he DOES finally get off duty?...

...actually, he doesn't even rest much in the first place. Potemkin is so used to working and working that once he gets some time to wind down, he just... can't! He never feels rested, just disappointed with himself, disappointed that he isn't working to his best potential, or whatever shitty excuse he manages to come up with. It annoys him.

Ahem. Anyways. Potemkin usually defaults to plotting himself down on a park bench and watching the world pass by. He finds it deeply calming.

(This way, he can also keep an eye out on the civilians of Zepp. He's always subconsciously working, even when he's off duty...)

You'll often see Potemkin wandering around the streets and town squares. He enjoys walking around and taking in the beauty of the environment around him, seeing as how he's always too busy to do so normally. It's the inner artist in him that can't help but notice the little details in everything.

Speaking of, inspiration tends to strike him out of the blue, so Potemkin usually keeps his own sketchbook on him - well, when he's not on duty. Whether it's figure sketching, environmental studies or still life, Potemkin greatly enjoys the arts. (But we knew that already, didn't we?)

(He owns a couple extra-sturdy pencils personally ordered by Gabriel, and he treasures them with his life. They all have the Zepp insignia on the very end of the pencil.)

A lesser known form of art he likes to dabble in is literature! Potemkin doesn't tend to write much of his own, but he sure as hell loves reading. He prefers the classics, the old shit like Shakespeare, Don Quixote, bla bla bla... well actually, moreso whatever would be the equivalent of 'classic' in the 22nd century. He probably has reading glasses, by the way.

Potemkin sometimes, very rarely, has to take some time off to repair his inhibitors. Usually someone does it for him, but there's a couple times that he's had to get hands-on and do it himself. Whether it's a scratch on the surface or a full on dent - it never gets damaged beyond that point - he always takes the utmost care in keeping them in tip-top condition. Although, Potemkin does freak out a lot over the removal of his inhibitors, so he tries his best to speed up the repair process. It's... very, very stressful for him, actually.

Potemkin occasionally attempts cooking for himself... or at least tries his damn best to, since his big ass hands always get in the way. He's often found himself breaking a frying pan handle or two by accident, much to his chagrin. Because of this, he often goes out to eat instead; whether that be gourmet level food prepared by a private chef or the cheap pre-made food from the corner shop. What a shame. Give my boy some homemade soup or something man :(

Oh, also, when he actually manages to make his own food, it's a 50/50 between tasting like shit and tasting fucking SCRUMPTIOUS. That's all.

Training with Gabriel. That's all I have to say, really. Gabriel is his mentor, the only one close to Potemkin that can match (and even surpass) his strength. Maybe they'd even spar from time to time? For funsies. Enrichment :]

Potemkin also has a very strict workout routine, obviously because of the whole genetic mutation thing. He doesn't feel the need to do it often though.

I don't have anything coherent for this one but I need you to imagine Potemkin hanging out with Bridget or Dizzy for me. Picnic with Potemkin and Dizzy and Testament. Okay? Okay. Glad you understand.

That's all I got for now... huh! This was fun! Maybe I should properly open writing asks...? anyways hi potemkin i like potemkin can you tell i like potemkin.potemkin guolty gear potemkin po

[justmystyles]

Was thinking how fun it would be to meet harry at an art museum. Like what if y/n had an assignment for grad school that she put off until the last minute, and so she finally gets to the museum and it's closed for a private tour (Harry's). She sweet talks a guard into asking harry if she could enter the museum, just to look at one painting for a bit. Harry is initially annoyed but agrees and is pleasantly surprised that she doesn't try to interact with him. Before he leaves, he goes to where she is and apologizes for closing the museum, and idk asks her to join him for lunch? It goes from there with flirting and a quick no strings fling

A Work of Art

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 1.3k

summary: after procrastinating for a few weeks, you finally make moves to finish your assignment, but run into an unexpected road block.

a/n: thank you so much for this ask, my friend! i'm so sorry it took me so long to get it out. i hope it was worth the wait!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“Sorry miss, we’re closed.” The guard said, stone faced. 

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. It was your own fault for waiting until the last minute, but you thought you had all day. “But you’re supposed to be open until five.” 

“We’re closed for a private tour.” He responded, showing no sign of emotion. 

You let out a frustrated groan, your paper is due at midnight and there was no way you were going to finish without getting in there and looking at that painting. You pace back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to figure out your next move. All that comes to mind is begging and pleading. 

You take a deep breath and step back up to the guard. “Please, there has to be something you can do. I only need to look at one painting. Maybe if they are done in the room I need to be in, I could just go straight there. I won’t be a bother, I promise.” 

The guard rolled his eyes, groaning in frustration. “You’re not going to leave until I ask, are you?” 

“Nope!” You said with an obnoxious smirk.

“Wait here.” The guard said sternly before turning and walking into the museum. 

He returned with a second guard, and the nerves started to set in. Were they going to physically remove you and ban you from the museum for life?

“Alright, here’s the deal, " the original guard began. “You’re going to go see your painting, but you go straight there and you stay there until it’s time to leave. My friend Hank here will be with you to make sure you don’t go rogue.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you thank you thank you!” 

“Phone please,” Hank holds out his hand, palm up. 

“My phone?” Your brow furrows in confusion. 

“The party that rented out the space will only let you in if you give us your phone, for his privacy. You’ll get it back when you’re done.” 

You don’t understand who this mystery museum goer could possibly be, but they were obviously a big deal. You hesitantly relinquished your phone, and Hank led you into the museum, walking you directly to the room where your painting was housed. 

As you studied the piece, taking notes as you evaluated each color choice and brush stroke, your mind couldn’t help but wander to the other person currently wandering the museum. You secretly hoped your paths would cross, just out of sheer curiosity of who it could possibly be. 

“Are you finished yet?” Hank asked with a hint of annoyance. 

“It would be quicker if I had my phone, so I could take pictures.” You matched his tone. 

He rolled his eyes, pulling your phone out of his breast pocket and handing it to you. “Pictures of the painting only. No flash.” 

You gave him a mock solute, immediately opening your camera and taking a few shots, zooming in on particular areas. You were so focused on the painting that you didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind you. 

“Phone, now.” Hank snapped. 

“What? But I’m not done!” You protest. 

“It’s alright, she’s fine.” Another voice pulls your attention and you turn around, seeing Harry Styles standing behind you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, returning your attention to the painting and taking a few more pictures. 

Harry watches you curiously, he had expected a bit more of a reaction when you saw him. You had gone through all this trouble to sneak into the museum he had gone to the trouble of booking out, specifically so he wouldn't be bothered. He allowed you in, against his better judgment, but you weren’t a problem at all. He felt oddly disappointed by that. 

Once you had taken your final pictures, and one more glance at the painting, you turned to Hank and let you know you were ready to go. He nodded and started to lead you toward the exit. 

“Wait!” Harry called, stopping you in your tracks. “I just wanted to apologize for closing the museum.” 

“It’s fine, I ended up getting what I needed.” You shrugged. He obviously didn’t want to be bothered, that's why he had the museum shut down in the first place.

“Well, would you like to walk around the rest of the museum with me?” He asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Thanks, but I should get home and finish my assignment.” 

“Aww, c’mon,” his tone became more playful. “How often are you going to have a whole museum all to yourself?” 

You study his expression, trying to figure out why he’s gone from no phones, don’t bother me to wanting to walk through the entire place with you. “Why?” 

“As a peace offering, for making things difficult on you.” 

You stood in silence for a moment as you weighed out your options. He was right, this was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. Complete, unobstructed access to the entire museum. “Sure,” you finally agreed. 

As you moved to the next room, Harry looked at you curiously. “So what was it about that one painting that you absolutely had to get in here today?”

“I’m an art history major, and I have an assignment due tomorrow analyzing that piece.” 

He stopped, turning to you with an arched brow. “And you’re just getting around to looking at it today?” You shrugged in response. “How long did you have to work on this assignment?” 

You rolled your eyes at his comment. “Okay mom, thanks.” You both chuckled.

“So,” Harry continued on. “Art history, that’s pretty cool, how’d you end up choosing that?” 

You talked to Harry a bit about your love of art, and the things that led you to selecting your major, as well as the panic your parents had when you chose such a niche field of study. The conversation flowed easily between the two of you. You got to know each other, and discussed the art around you, sharing what you saw in the pieces, and how they made you feel. 

When the two of you returned to the entrance, you looked down at your watch with wide eyes. The two of you had spent three hours going through every square inch of the museum, and you actually had a really great time. When you first saw Harry, you were annoyed, he was just an entitled celebrity making the world harder for everyone else just to get his way. But after spending time with him and getting to know him, he actually turned out to be really down to earth, and pretty cool. You felt a pang of disappointment knowing that you were about to part ways. 

“Thank you,” you said to him, looking into his kind green eyes. “For letting me in to look at my painting, and also for walking around the museum with me.”

“It was my pleasure,” He smiled kindly at you. “It was actually way more fun to walk around with someone who knows what they’re talking about.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Harry. You had some pretty insightful things to say back there.”

He grinned wide, his dimples on full display. “Oh stop,” he waved his hands playfully. “Hey, you want to go grab a bite to eat?”

“I would love to but I’ve got–”

“Your assignment to finish.” He completed your thought. “I know, but you’re not going to get anything done on an empty stomach. Come on, my treat.” 

He gives you a hopeful smile, as if he doesn’t want to leave you yet. You definitely don't want to leave him. “Yeah, sure.” You agree, trying to play it cool.     

“Great! C’mon, I’ve got a car waiting out front!” He held the door for you and the two of you made your way to his car, and then on to dinner.

You submitted your assignment just before the deadline, and you walked away from dinner with a kiss on the cheek and Harry’s number. All in all, it was a good day. 

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - DD - May 9 & 11

I’m combining both of these entries into one since I have similar thoughts about both!

First off, yay we get our first time meeting Mina and Lucy!!!!!!!! And may I just say it’s great to see these girls being besties and chatting? You can tell just by the way they write that they have known each other a long time. Bram actually did a good job writing these women talking to each other. It feels natural and organic. Finally a “men writing women” moment where I don’t want to gag. I will still never get over the adaptations pitting these two lovely ladies against each other!! Why do we still feel the need to make them “compete.” Ugh :(

Mina’s Letter - I love how she starts right away with “forgive me for not writing you.” She already KNOWS Lucy is going to get on her for that, lol. Also her gushing about Jonathan is adorable and I love how she talks about writing to him in code. Those two nerds, they’re going to end me with their cuteness. Also, studying lady journalists to help with your journalism? What a queen doing that research. As she should! Again, it’s the bare minimum, but Stoker really did a good job with this one I must say. Seeing her be hopeful about Jonathan’s trip to Transylvania and the subsequent promise of seeing places like that together is a bit sobering. :( that is, until we reach her PS!

“You have not told me anything for a long time.” This line makes me want to laugh for some reason and I’m not quite sure why? Maybe it’s because I can hear a slightly scolding tone when she says it, or maybe because I can totally see me telling one of my friends this, especially to goad them into telling me the tea. Either way, it’s great.

“I hear rumours, and especially of a tall, handsome, curly-haired man???”

I’m convinced Stoker read my texts or something because LOL that’s literally how I type! The idea of her writing “???” is adorable and I love it so much. Also by “rumors” does she mean Lucy’s mom? I’m pretty sure she means Lucy’s mom. I think it’s funny the first really descriptive thing we really hear of Arthur is his curly hair!

We can get a good glimpse of Mina’s personality just by this letter. We can already tell she’s genuinely excited to be married to Jonathan and help with his work. She is also very methodical, as she is thinking of several different ways she can practice her stenography and shorthand to help assist him. Like Jonathan, she does her research by reading up on how women in similar fields conduct their craft. She is obviously hopeful and in love with him, as she dreams of seeing new places with him after they are married.

However, she does not neglect Lucy in her missive! While her letter is mostly about Jonathan (which I assume is likely due to to Lucy asking after him and most engaged people do tend to talk about their fiancé — just look at Jonathan), she does take time at the beginning and ending of the letter to a) assure Lucy she misses her and b) tell her the latest news ASAP!! This shows that she deeply cares about her friend, even with her impending nuptials.

Lucy’s Letter - “I must say you tax me very unfairly with being a bad correspondent. I wrote to you twice since we parted, and your last letter was only your second.”

Yep, sure enough, Lucy gets on Mina for not writing to both of her letters (I do wonder if Mina answered everything that was in both letters…). Of course, it’s in a good-natured way and it gives me the same vibes as Rarity from MLP:FIM fainting into a couch or something and I am HERE FOR IT (for those who don’t watch the show, I genuinely mean this as a compliment. I love Rarity -- also I could probably make a whole post about Dracula characters as MLP characters, hmm…).

“Besides, I have nothing to tell you. There is really nothing to interest you.”

*Proceeds to list the hottest gossip* I love this girl so much. She has my whole heart.

“Some one has evidently been telling tales.”

Yep, definitely Lucy’s mom! I would love to see the letters between Mina and Lucy’s mom tbh.

Also when talking about Arthur, it’s so adorable because you can tell at first she only tries to sprinkle in a little bit about him, like “oh he’s just someone I met” and then it quickly morphs into “we met this guy who would be great for you” (Seward mention!!!! Can’t wait to meet everyone’s favorite pathetic wet cat /pos) to “I’m already picking up his slang and using his first name and did I mention IM IN LOVE WITH HIM????”

You can already learn so much about Lucy from this first letter. She’s sweet and caring to the people around her, lively about everything and a bit unsure about love (since she doesn’t quite know if Arthur loves her back). I looked up her age (idk if that counts as spoilers but I’ll tag this as such just in case) and she’s 19!!! This is exactly the kind of letter I would expect a 19-year-old to write to her best friend. I just love how excited she sounds, as she should!!! She’s a young girl in love, perhaps for the first time, and wants her best friend to know. I do love how she tells Mina “write back to me IMMEDIATELY with your thoughts.” Same, Lucy, same.

Back to Seward. It’s so funny to me that he wants to make a psychological study of her while staring straight into her soul and she seems to be chill with it!! Like she still loves Arthur, but she’s also not put off by Jack, either. He’s just got that neurodivergent urge to study her under a microscope and honestly, who can blame him? I can also see why Lucy would ship Seward and Mina together; obviously, I’m a diehard Jonmina shipper (and I’m pretty sure Lucy is too, she just likes chaos), but I feel like Mina and Seward would totally bond over train schedules and other nerd stuff.

So, to sum it up, I love both of these girls and their friendship so much and I can’t wait to see more of them!!! Eeeee

[maislovebot]

hii, can I request fyodor and sigma (separated) with a reader who suffers from paranoia? It's totally okay if you don't feel comfortable writing it!! 🫶

Of course I can write this!! Ty for the request, anon<3

I apologize if any of the information I put is incorrect, as I do not have any forms of paranoia, although I do know a fair amount about them because I study psychology🙏 I wasn’t sure if you had a type of paranoia that makes you have breakdowns, but I decided to assume you did. I needed to compromise a little here:’)

Fyodor:

Contains: gn reader, drabble format, the reader is afraid that Fyodor is gonna hurt them, lots of kisses, fluff, hurt/comfort

Fyodor was well aware of your paranoia. He may have found it difficult to deal with your symptoms at first, but he’s grown to know how to treat you. He’s gentle with you, and with his criticism despite his rather blunt personality, as he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and don’t break down.

He tries his hardest to understand you, but he still struggles to comfort you when you were dealing with breakdowns, or you were shutting down in some way. He never was the most emotionally available person. He tried his hardest, though.

So now that he’s here, and he’s entered your shared house to see you on your guys’ bed, staring at the ceiling, clearly deep in thought, he knew you were thinking about something that made you act up. It made a frown fall to his face. What was bothering you?

Fyodor knew to comfort you gently and slowly whenever he saw you like this, so he slowly walked up to the bed and placed his hand on your back. It made you jump.

“Hello, милый, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” your response was short and it made Fyodor worry, his face getting more concerned.

“You don’t have to tell me, but if you’re comfortable, I’d like you to tell me what’s wrong.” He knew he had to be persistent with you, you two wouldn’t get anywhere if he wasn’t.

You nodded, curling in on yourself, facing Fyodor. You placed your hand on his arm to help ground yourself, which Fyodor took notice to. He gently ran his hand through your hair, scratching your scalp. You melted into his touch, pulling him closer.

“It’s dumb,”

“I doubt it,” Fyodor mumbled as he rested his hand in your hair, “what’s on your mind?”

You finally decided to talk to him, sighing and petting his arm.

“I’m scared, scared that you’ll drop me once I fulfill my role in your plan. I’m horrified that you may kill me.”

Fyodor looked taken aback, his eyes widening. He knew he should have kept all his dirty work to himself. You never should’ve known that he’s willing to betray just about anyone.

Besides you.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, there’s no need to worry. I’ll never hurt you.”

“I’m not just worried, I’m scared to fall asleep next to you anymore. Scared you might hurt me.”

The frown on Fyodor’s face kept growing, and he gripped your chin. Why couldn’t you realize that he would never hurt you? You’re the most important person to him. He’s doing all of this for you.

“Do you know why I’m doing all of this? Why I’m getting rid of all the gifted?”

You shook your head no, nuzzling into his sleeve.

“It’s to give me and you a better life. So we can live in a world free of sin, just the two of us.”

“That’s a dark thing to say with such a romantic tone,” you giggled into his arm, “I believe you.”

Fyodor smiled softly at this, kissing along your arm before reaching your hand, and leaving one final kiss to your palm.

He knew he could never fully help you with your paranoia, but he could definitely try.

Wc - 0.5k

Sigma:

Contains: gn reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is afraid that Sigma is gonna die, also lots of kisses

Your chest hurts. Everything hurts. You knew Sigma could protect himself, you knew he was more than capable, but God, were you nervous. He had practically an entire organization after him and all he had to protect him was the Sky Casino.

Your thoughts were reeling, your mind running races, your thoughts bouncing around your own skull. What if he got hurt? What if he was hurt right now? All these thoughts were making you have a headache.

That was until Sigma walked through the door to your bedroom, back from his shift, and completely unharmed. Of course you were just overthinking it.

Nonetheless, you ran up to him and hugged him as soon as he walked through the door. The actions were sudden, but not unwanted. He jumped slightly when you wrapped your arms around him, before reciprocating the hug.

“Well hello. Nice to see you too.” Sigma giggled.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” You blurted out.

The question confused Sigma, and he looked around the room for a few moments.

“Uhh, no? Am I supposed to be?”

“No, but..”

As confused as he was at first, he was beginning to piece everything together.

“What’s got you paranoid? Did something happen?”

“Not specifically..but how could you even tell I’m paranoid?”

“We’ve been together for almost a year now, that’s how.”

You nodded, continuing your vent.

“Nothing really happened, it’s just that you’re practically being hunted down by the Decay of Angels, and I don’t know what to do. I never wanna leave your side because I’m scared you won’t come back.”

Sigma looked taken aback. He was honestly very nervous about what may happen to him as well, but he knew he had to stay strong, if not for him, than for you. Sigma knelt down in front of you, holding your hands and kissing your fingertips, before holding them close to his face.

“I’m not going anywhere. I may not talk about it often, but I have resources. I’m more than safe. And so are you.”

“Resources?”

“Well, I guess a better word for it is allies.”

That sounded just like something Sigma would say.

“Like who?”

“Well, to start, the Armed Detective Agency. I also don’t employ people I don’t trust.”

You ran your hand through Sigma’s hair, pulling him close. He was still on his knees, so the hug was very imbalanced.

But you wouldn’t change it for the world.

Wc - 0.4k