#swimming in WIPs here HELP
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pippinoftheshire · 2 months ago
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thanks for the tag @justabigoldnerd
(I'm going to have to organize by fandom lol, because I can't seem to stick to writing for just ONE, because that would be too easy now, wouldn't it😅)
The Man From U.N.C.L.E (2015)
The Istanbul Affair
Salvation Prequel
5+1 things Wingfic installment
A Ballad of Silver and Swords
I Will Burn Your Country Down, If You Try to Conquer Me and Mine
Now You See Me, Now You Don't Part 8 John Wick AU)
Avian Solo
Canon Divergence- East Berlin
Eldritch Illya/Vampire Solo
Ghost Solo (failed flufftober attempt)
You Don't Own Me
Steel Wingfic #2
TMFU Horses AU
Mutant Illya (X-men AU Part 2)
Mutant Gaby (X-men AU Part 3)
Mutant Solo #2 (X-men AU Part 4)
Broken Pieces
Victoria's Promise (Versions One and Two)
"I thought you said you walked?"
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DCEU
Father, Son and Holy Ghost #2
Man Of Steel Canon divergence
Flickering Chapter 2
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DC Comics
Dark Knights of Steel fic
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Middle-Earth
The Evenstar
A Song of Swans
"But Melkor's plea was denied."
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The Witcher (TV)
Modern Ranch Boys AU
Venting about Valdo
Song of the Sea Chapter 3
On The Streets of Novigrad
Fae Jaskier AU
Goats
Cafe Kaer Morhen
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Transformers ONE
In which nothing gets resolved...
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Disney's Planes
Alternate racing AU
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My Little Pony
A Saga of Lightning and Rainbows
Skywishes fic
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Tristain and Isolde
Inner thoughts
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PHEW😅
tagging @huggiebird, @too-young-to-fall-in-love, @prettyboynapoleonsolo, @freddiepurrcury,
@cha-melodius, @heytheredeann, @mybelovedillya, @inherited-by-ocelot,
@the-golden-comet, @susiecarter, @vnyu73, @nicijones, @happybean17, @bighandsforabigheart, @ikeepwatchinghelicopters and anyone else who wants to join!
✨️WIP Folder Game ✨️
Thank you so much @kcscribbler for the tag!!! I think I've added enough WIPs to warrent doing this fun game again!!!
Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have wips. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!
Now, I'm gonna do things a little differently. I have WIPs, but I also have a few more types of Docs:
(ALTERNATE) - Scenes from fics that never made it into the final product, or that I changed around a lot, or that I just decided didn’t work the way I wanted them to
(ABANDONED) - WIPs that have been laid to rest 🕊 Fics that will never be finished
(FIC IDEA) - Usually just notes on what the fic would be ablut
(VAUGE NOTIONS) - Usually something I started writing that I have no idea where it will go or even if it will go
If you send an ask about any of the types above, I'll just post the entirety of what's in the Google Doc!!! 💕💕💕
First, the proper WIPs:
"Are You Afraid? (However Could You Not Be?)"
"Children of The Discreet"
"Knife-poleon Solo"
"Illya unbuttons Solo's vest"
"How To Cook A Wolf"
"Gravity Falls/TMFU"
"Stranger Things/TMFU"
"Single Dad Solo / Ballet Instructor Illya"
"The X-Men From U.N.C.L.E."
"Feather Gifting"
"Gentle Vices"
"I Am Your Lover (I Am Your Jailor)"
"Illya Remembers June 10th"
"Isle of Flightless Birds"
"Michelin Star Spy"
"Nanites Library AU"
"Never Fall In Love With A Stranger"
"Scorching Out Thine Sovereignty"
"The Most Dangerous Game [Extended]"
"Which Side of The Wall Really Suffers That Cost?"
Next, the (ALTERNATE)s:
"Alternate First Date"
"Bewitched"
"Bonnie and Clyde"
"Bright Lights 2"
"Alternate Children of The Discreet"
"Alternate Drinking Sunlight"
"Alternate Feather Gifting"
"Finding Illya"
"First Meeting"
"Alternate Isle of Flightless Birds"
"Merc Solo Backstory Art Class"
"Spicy Times After Club"
"Alternate Winter Exchange"
Now the graveyard, (ABANDONED):
"An American Werewolf In London"
"DubCon Ford² feat Bill (I don't wanna finish)"
"My Teeth And Ambitions Are Bared"
"Ring Kissing"
"That's The Way It Is"
"The Soviet Russia Memes Incident"
"Uhhhhh that one dream"
"First Time Fic"
(FIC IDEAS):
"Illya is WAY more comfy on a nude beach than Solo expects"
"Resurrection? Kinda?"
"Sailor TV Napollya"
"Sleep Paralysis"
(VAUGE NOTIONS):
"Grandma"
"Waverly/Blanc"
I don't think I even know enough people to tag LMAO so I'll no pressure tag my usual list; @huggiebird @happybean17 @falling-into-peril @heytheredeann @pippinoftheshire
@bighandsforabigheart @mybelovedillya @cha-melodius @the-golden-comet @thattripleabattery
@too-young-to-fall-in-love @times-up-alone-tonight @vnyu73 @nicijones @prettyboynapoleonsolo
And an Open Tag for anyone who wants to join!!! 💕💕💕
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dead-end-draws · 1 year ago
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Tribe Banner concept art:
Folks seemed to enjoy my WOF WIPS, so here’s more concept art for y’all! My favorite thing about WOF is the potential for world building. I thought it’d be cool to see a tribe emblem represented on a banner/flag of sorts:
Read below for some of the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇
Skywing Banner:
Skywings pride themselves on 3 things; treasure, fire, & their enormous, soaring wingspan which steals the sky.
As such, portrayed on the banner, the fabric (often made with dyed cow or goat leathers) resembles draped dragon wings. Two Skywings embrace a goblet, which is spewing golden fire.
The banner is often held aloft with iron or gold poles, signifying to other tribes their wealth and pride.
Mudwing banner:
These banners are fashioned with leather hides from cow or crocodile skin, held aloft with bamboo, and painted with a Talon-print & Reed crest.
The talonprint symbolizes community and the strength of Mudwing sibling bonds. The reed border unifies all Mudwings regardless of their relationship to home; the swamp. Bigwings are often seen carrying these into battle, signifing their status and making it easier for a sib to locate them in the flurry of a fight.
Sandwing Banner:
Sandwing flags are made with camel skins and dyed cactus leather.
A crest shows a Sandwing coiled around a beaming sun, a reminder that despite the revered 3 moons, Sandwings are born to thrive in sunlight.
The fabric is cut in a way to mimic the swooping dunes of Sandwing territory. And the poles of the flags are equally intricate, with scorpion tails and golden ropes which frame the banner.
These flags make prominent appearances in parades, festivals, and markets, and even miniature version are often displayed in homes or as tapestries/carpets.
Seawing banner:
These banners are often seen displayed in royal quarters or councils, or above land to mark territory.
A nautilus shell crest on front echoes the swirl-pattern associated with royal Seawings: The banner’s borders resemble waves and a dragon swimming beneath their surface.
These are crafted with rich materials, strung with seashells, pearls, silver dollars, and deep oceanic color fabric. There is severe penalty for Seawings found plucking treasure from the banners, as they are a direct symbol of royalty.
Nightwing Banner:
These banners emphasize the Nightwings’ relationship to the moon, their source of power and praise. The material, a contrast of white stitching against purple velvet showcases moonlight and night, black scales against stars, magic and mystery.
They are seen decorated with 3 moons at the top and a centered dragon reaching up into the night sky.
These banners were often used during the war as secret code by spies to deliver to other tribes. Prophecy scrolls often came attached, delivering cryptic messages or secrets in the night. These banners all helped add to the secrecy of the Dragonet Prophecy, and kept tribes on their toes around Nightwings.
Rainwing banner:
Rainwing banners are not used for battle purposes like other tribes, most are mere decoration, location indicators, and have no unified design.
However, It is said back when Rainwings left the rainforest to trade pre-war, this particular banner design was often raised above Rainwing merchant tables, and showcases the coiled tail of a Rainwing with leaves, vines, and other sights from the rainforest adorning a bamboo pole. Bright color combinations accentuated the flag to entice curious customers.
Now, only one tattered version of the original Rainwing banner remains, displayed proudly in Queen Glory’s quarters, a reminder that building the Rainwings’ community is their most important goal.
Icewing Banner:
These banners reflect the same standards Icewings hold themselves to.
Like a visual of the rankings themselves, each banner is cut perfectly from an Icewing’s trained, serrated claws to resemble icicles, and crafted with fine blue stitching.
Flags are often held aloft with perfectly polished narwhal horn or bone, and can be inlaid with sapphires or diamond.
Icewing soldiers are often gifted these during ceremonies, and perform training exercises with the flags to test their stance/attentiveness. The crest showcases the swift sharpness of ice through a flying dragon, and a snowflake toward the bottom reminding Icewings that even minuscule snowflakes, small things, should be perfect in form.
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months ago
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Aemond on a hot day and going for a swim
This one has been in my wip for so long. Whoever sent this, I am truly sorry
Warnings: 18+, nudity, mention of skinny dipping
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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The weather had been scorching hot in King’s Landing as of lately. It was so hot outside that it was impossible to go in the sun for longer than ten minutes without feeling light-headed. No one knew why it was happening nor when the weather would cool down. You just had to sweat through it.
You were heading out to court in the late morning, fanning yourself as you walked, when a hand caught your arm. 
‘’Where are you going?’’ Aemond's voice cut through the hot air. He wasn't wearing any leather, which was strange to see him without. 
‘’To court. Doreah is waiting for me. She is going to teach me how to thread fans. Would you like one, my love?’’ you asked, offering him a small smile. Your hair was tied back into braids instead of its usual loose waves, helping you stay cool. 
Aemond ignored your question, his jaw tight as he looked up from your dress. ‘’In that attire?’’ 
He never criticized your choice of clothing, letting you dress the way you desired, but he couldn’t let you leave the Red Keep in this dress. Absolutely not. 
‘’I made it myself using an old dress. My handmaiden had taught me to sew.’’ You smiled proudly, giving Aemond a small twirl. ‘’It’s light and breathable. Perfect for hot weather.’’ 
‘’It looks like undergarments,’’ Aemond remarked, his tone tight.
You promised to work on controlling your insolence, but right now Aemond had you rolling your eyes. ‘’It is not.’’ 
‘’I can see your breasts through it, therefore everyone can see them.’’ 
He didn’t want to sound possessive, but your body was for his eye only. Not perverted men at court. It made Aemond sick to even think a man of his court could pleasure himself to the thought of your body. If he ever catches anyone doing so, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head — or cock. 
‘’I opted out of a corset today. This heat makes it unbearable to wear.’’
‘’No corset?’’
You shook your head. ‘’No corset. Nothing.’’ 
Aemond raised an eyebrow. ‘’Nothing? As in…no undergarments either?’’ 
You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eye. ‘’Exactly, my Prince.’’ 
A group of servants walked by, averting their eyes from you and Aemond.  
‘’I say we walk back to our chambers and you see Doreah tomorrow. It is not appropriate for a lady to walk around dressed so scantily.’’  
‘’I have a better plan.’’ 
*
Aemond thought you had lost your mind when you suggested walking down Aegon’s hill under this heat. You were both sweating and out of breath when you reached the bottom of the hill, but you knew it would be worth it. 
As you were walking, Aemond changed his opinion on your dress. He still thought it was far too revealing to be worn outside your chamber, but when you started swaying your hips while walking, he couldn’t look away. It made his throat dry…and his breeches tight.
A smile curled on your face, seeing your destination in the distance. You pulled Aemond along, his hand sticking with yours from how humid it was. 
‘’We’re there,’’ you declared, standing before a small area of water deriving from the Blackwater Bay. There were a lot of trees around it, which hid it from the ships sailing through the bay. ‘’Let’s go for a swim.’’ 
Swimming sounded nice. He was completely drenched in sweat and the thought of jumping in the water was very tempting. Aemond looked around the secluded area. No one was around to spy on the Prince with his lady. He couldn’t help but notice the sweat dripping down your chest and neck and disappearing into your dress. 
‘’We can’t go swimming. Someone’s going to see us.’’ 
You rolled your eyes. ‘’There's no one here. Ever.’’ You reached a hand out and dragged your finger down the buttons of his linen shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. ‘’Just think of the cool water on your hot skin. Won't that feel nice?’’
Aemond’s breath hitched in his throat as you trailed your finger over his chest. He swallowed. ‘’We shouldn’t… Someone could be watching,’’ he said, his protests were growing weaker and weaker by the second.
‘’Can you quit worrying and just have a swim with me? It's just you and me here. Lose the clothes, my love.’’ You looked up at him, the corner of your lips curled into a mischievous smile. ‘’Besides, the water is deep enough that no one will see your milky white buttocks once you're in.’’
Aemond exhaled deeply through his nose. Your stubbornness knew no bounds.
‘’You’re going to be the death of me,’’ he muttered before finishing unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off. He began unlacing his trousers, then paused. ‘’And my body does not look like milk,’’ he added dryly.
A giggle left your mouth, amused. You reached for the ties on each shoulder, pulled until they came undone. Your dress fell into a puddle at your feet, exposing you fully. 
Aemond swore his brain stopped working for a moment, his eye drinking in the sight of you completely nude in front of him. Gods, how did he get so lucky? You were a man's dream.
His throat went dry as he took a step forward. He gently placed his hands on your hips, his thumbs moving in small circles. ‘’Are you sure there’s no one here?’’ 
‘’There might be a rabbit or little ducklings...’’ 
It was Aemond’s turn to roll his eye. ‘’Very funny.’’ He finished undressing, pulling his breeches down before stepping out of them. 
You grinned at him. ‘’You love my sense of humor.’’ 
Aemond pulled you flush against him, your clammy skin sticking to his, before tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes. His gaze was dark, almost hungry. ‘’And I love shutting that sarcastic mouth of yours even more.’’ 
His words left you speechless, not expecting that from him. 
To prove his point, he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. You grabbed onto his shoulders as it turned deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Heat spread through your body as you kissed, arousal slowly rising, and defeating the purpose of coming down here. 
You pulled away, feeling Aemond’s breath against your lips. ‘’Shall we go in the water before things escalate?’’
House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron  @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit
All and more taglist:  @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade   @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff   @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity  @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21
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wosola · 4 months ago
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French kisses .1 - Lucy Bronze x French!Reader
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Hey everyone! I’m J. I used to write fanfiction on Wattpad for another fandom, but for a while now, I’ve mostly just been reading. Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time on AO3, where I started reading WoSo fanfics and fell into @bruhnze’s incredible works. After reading everything she’d published, I found her on Tumblr.
Recently, @bruhnze announced she was taking a break from writing. We connected, and I had the absolute honor of reading through her WIPs. One of them really inspired me, so I asked if I could finish it—and she said yes!
Originally planned as a single fic, this story grew into a 3-parter as I worked on it 🫣😅 Long story short: WIP by @bruhnze, finished by me, and proofread by her.
Summary: This is during Lucy Bronze’s time playing for Lyon, she's just gotten into a relationship with R, a 22-year-old student. For R it is the first time sleeping with someone. Based on this request, from the☀️anon over on @bruhnze.
Warnings: This is an 18+ fanfic with explicit content, so minors do not interact.
You had grown up in Lyon, lived there all your life. It had never been particularly eventful—your life was great, really. You loved your studies, had a close-knit group of friends, and there wasn’t much more to it.
The only thing that seemed to be missing, or at least it was something that was out of sync with your friends, was your love life. At 22, you had never really had one. While everyone around you seemed to be hooking up left, right and center, it never quite worked out that way for you. Not that you didn’t want to; you did.
It was just that you had never met anyone who stirred something in you in your everyday life. Sure, you’d kissed people now and then, but whenever things started to go further, you found yourself pulling back.
As time passed, being a virgin at your big age started to feel a bit strange. You were well past the point where a one-night stand felt like the right way to lose your virginity. Maybe it was because you didn’t know how to navigate all of that, or maybe you were worried that whoever you were with wouldn’t expect it and you’d feel awkward.
But in the blessed year 2017, as fate would have it, everything changed when you met a cute English girl in the local supermarché.
She had been struggling to find something on the shelves, her expression a mix of confusion and determination, when you decided to offer her a hand. The girl, who introduced herself as Lucy, explained in broken French that she had just moved to Lyon.
You helped her find what she was looking for, and as a thank you, Lucy asked for your number. You laughed and teased her, asking what she planned to do with it.
She had grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and in her charmingly imperfect French, she replied, "the least I can do is buy the pretty girl who helped me a dinner." That made you laugh harder, and when you joked about her not knowing any good restaurants yet, she just shrugged and said, "then you can decide where we go."
She had this boldness that was as charming as it was disarming—and, okay, maybe her being absurdly good-looking didn’t hurt in swaying your answer either. It was a yes without doubt, however towards Lucy you stayed a bit more unfazed.
That was a few months ago. Now, Lucy was much more comfortable with her French, picking it up quicker than you’d expected.
And not only was the woman smart, she was also incredibly athletic, which you'd noticed from the start. But on your fifth date, when you two had gone swimming, you couldn’t help but be floored by how fit she really was.
It wasn’t just her body, though—Lucy was thoughtful, kind, funny and so much more. You saw that side of her when she came with you to visit your grandpa in the hospital, bringing him a Lyon shirt signed by a player as a gift. You almost cried, you’d only mentioned that your grandpa was a life long fan of the club and here she was, gifting a signed shirt to him?!
That’s how you found out she was a footballer. Lucy had handed the signed jersey to your grandfather, grinning with that mischievous spark in her eye. “Hope you don’t mind it’s from a pretty new signing,” she’d teased. Then, with a playful glint, she added, “But I’ve heard she’s world-class. Do you know any players from Olympique Lyonnais Féminin? I can get another autograph if this one doesn’t impress you.”
Without skipping a beat, your grandfather, his face lighting up, assured her he did, mentioning that he always tried to catch matches, even if he mostly had to listen rather than watch due to his eyesight. “This is number 22, Bronze. She’s a great defender,” he said with pride. “I was thrilled when they signed her. Do you know her from England, or how did you manage to get this autograph?”
Your jaw nearly dropped as you glanced over at Lucy, who was barely holding back a smile.
“Yeah, you could say I’m close with her. Some say we’re practically twins,” she joked before reaching out to shake his hand. “But actually, I am Lucy Bronze. Nice to meet you, sir.”
Your grandfather’s laughter was as genuine as you’d heard in ages, his disbelief quickly turning into a delighted grin. It was as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
“I won’t let you down,” she told him, her voice softer, promising. “We’ll bring home the Champions League for Lyon.”
-
You’d been dating for three months now, and things were going great. Lucy had met your friends, and they adored her. You told her early on that you wanted to take things slow, and she had been nothing but understanding. She didn’t want to rush things either, but she wasn’t afraid to show you how much she liked you. Everything felt so natural with her, as if it was meant to be.
There was a dinner planned with your parents this Sunday, tomorrow she had a match, but today was one of her rest days after a Champions League game.
After a relaxed afternoon strolling around the city, shopping for a birthday gift for a friend, Lucy insisted on stopping by the supermarket. She wanted to cook at home, saying she wanted a romantic night with you. You agreed, and soon, you were back at your apartment, where you spent more time kissing than actually cooking.
It had been happening more and more recently—lingering touches, playful kisses that turned into longer, deeper ones. Every time, though, it stopped before it could go too far. Sometimes it felt natural, like you both were happy to just be together, but other times it felt more abrupt, leaving your heart racing. You wanted her, of course—how could you not?—but there was still that one thing you hadn’t told her yet, and it held you back.
Lucy had noticed. She’d asked a few times, worried that you might’ve had bad experiences in the past, but you assured her that wasn’t the case. You just wanted to take your time, and she had been so patient with you, always respecting your boundaries. Sometimes recently, it was even Lucy who would pull back, smiling at you sweetly, her eyes filled with desire but also understanding.
You loved her. You wanted to share everything with her, every part of yourself.
Twice now, she had stayed the night at your place. She had offered to sleep in separate beds, but you had waved that away, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep cuddled up next to her.
And now, after watching her play last night and lying awake, tossing and turning, you had decided that you were ready to tell her what had been holding you back.
You wanted, ached, to explore this part of your relationship, and tonight, with the romantic dinner she planned, felt like the perfect moment.
Now you were here, a lovely dinner behind your belt.. fidgeting with your wine glass, noticing that strangely enough, Lucy seemed a bit nervous too.
You both spoke up at the same time.
“Y/N—” “Luce—”
Breathy laughter filled the air, easing some of the tension you both seemed to be holding. “You go,” you said in unison again, which only made you laugh harder.
You gently took her hands in yours. “No, you go, baby.”
“Baby..,” Lucy repeated slowly, as if she was rolling the word around in her mouth, trying to make up if she liked the taste of it, her eyes searching your face.
Your heart skipped a beat. Shit. Did she not like that? You had been using the term more and more recently, thinking you were both building toward something more, maybe even thinking of her as your girlfriend already. Panic crept in until Lucy's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts.
“I thought,” she began, tightening her grip on your hands, “that it was about time… that I asked you to be my girlfriend.” Her words tumbled out quickly, like she was nervous. “I know you want to take things really slow,” she added, rambling a little, “but I just really, really, really like you. More than that even.” She let out a breathy laugh, glancing away for a second, before her gaze settled back on yours. “But I won’t scare you with that just yet. What I’m trying to say is... I want to call you my girlfriend. So, um… if you—”
“Oui!” you cut her off, the word bursting from you with so much enthusiasm that it took you both by surprise. You felt your face flush with heat as you quickly added, “Uh, yes, Lucy, I love you too—” You stopped mid-sentence, blushing furiously. “I-I mean, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” you corrected, your voice softer but no less sincere.
Lucy’s smile stretched from ear to ear as she stood up from her seat, and you rose to meet her. The moment felt so perfect, so right.
She kissed you, a kiss filled with warmth and love, and you returned it with all the affection you’d been building up for this woman for months now. God, you were in love.
After a few long moments, you pulled back, your heart pounding. You knew you still had to tell her the other thing. But Lucy was looking at you with such softness in her eyes, her face lit with joy. You couldn’t help but brush your thumbs along her cheeks, feeling the heat of her skin under your touch.
“Love me huh?” Lucy teased at your little slip of the tongue earlier, her voice low and playful.
You chuckled, your nerves easing slightly. “Yes, I love you, Luce, je t'aime” you admitted, voicing the words felt like lifting a weight off your chest.
“Hmmm…” Lucy hummed, her grin widening as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. “That makes me really happy. I love you too,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin.
Before you knew it, Lucy’s hands had moved to cup your ass, lifting you up effortlessly. You squealed in surprise, even though she had done this before—it caught you off guard. Maybe because you still had to tell that other thing. But you couldn’t help but laugh as she carried you over to the couch, sitting down with you perched on her lap.
Both of you dissolved into giggles as you peppered each other’s faces with kisses, one after another. “I am so in love with you,” you murmured between kisses, your forehead resting gently against hers as you gazed into her eyes.
Lucy laughed, her nose brushing against yours. “It’s funny that we both wanted to tell each other that tonight,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Your cheeks flushed again, this time not just from the affection but from what you knew you had to say next. “I… I also…” you stammered, trying to find the right words. Lucy tilted her head, a curious smile tugging at her lips as she waited patiently.
“I also wanted.. uh no.. needed.. to tell you something else,” you finally managed, your voice a little shaky.
“Oh?” Lucy’s eyebrows lifted slightly, her expression soft. “Is it… a good thing?”
You bit your lip, unsure. “I’d…uh.. I’d say it’s more of a neutral thing?” you said, trying to ease into it.
Lucy smiled, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze as she leaned back against the couch. “Okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I know. It’s just… hard for me to say, I guess.” You could feel your nerves bubbling up again. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.”
Lucy’s gaze was steady, encouraging. “Hey, there’s nothing to apologize for,” she said softly. “Take your time.”
“I… I have never…” You struggled to find the right words, but they just wouldn’t come. “I mean, I know how everything works, of course, but I’ve just… never actually… done it.” The words tumbled out awkwardly, and you quickly looked down, embarrassed.
Lucy was quiet for a long moment, so long that you finally forced yourself to glance up at her. To your surprise, her expression hadn’t changed—she was still looking at you with warmth and understanding.
“Hey,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over your lower lip, gently freeing it from between your teeth where you’d been nervously biting it. “Thank you for telling me.”
You groaned, your forehead dropping against her collarbone. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief.
Lucy chuckled softly, her hand smoothing over your back. “Sorry for what? Like you said, it’s a neutral thing. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” She tilted your chin up so you could meet her eyes again. “I’m just happy you told me. Now I understand why we always stopped when we did.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and smiled shyly. Lucy’s hands found their way to your cheeks again, cupping your face with such tenderness that you couldn’t help but feel safe.
The two of you stared at each other, the weight of the moment sinking in before both of you burst into soft, breathy giggles, the tension dissolving.
You both had ended up lying down on the couch, nestled against each other in a comfortable silence. Lucy’s arm was around your waist, your head resting on her chest as you listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing. The warmth of her body and the way her fingers absentmindedly traced small circles on your arm made you feel calm, safe.
It must have been at least half an hour before you finally worked up the courage to speak.
“So… how do you, uh, want to do things?” you asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant.
Lucy tilted her head slightly, meeting your gaze with a curious look. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she responded, her voice gentle, as if she were afraid of pressuring you. “I mean… I want to do whatever you want, however you want, and when you want it.”
Her words made you smile, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. She was always so thoughtful, so patient. But the truth was, you had been thinking about this for a while now. You swallowed hard, trying to push past the embarrassment rising in your chest. “I feel like I’m ready,” you began, but the words felt heavy in your throat.
Lucy’s expression softened even more, her hand rubbing soothingly along your back, waiting for you to continue.
“That’s… I…” Your face flushed bright red as you tried to find the right words. You couldn’t tell her just how ready you were without blushing even harder.
The truth was, ever since you and Lucy had started dating, you had never felt this kind of desire before. In the past few weeks, your own body had been betraying you, and the thought of Lucy, had been invading your mind, especially when you were alone. You had never been so… wanting. It was like something in you had awakened. It wasn’t just the emotional connection—you physically craved her.
“Uhm… it’s been hard,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “not going further than kissing with you.” Your cheeks burned even more as you confessed, “But I felt like I needed to tell you this first before we went further… it was hard for me to confess.. I feel a bit.. uhm.. behind?”
Lucy’s thumb gently stroked your cheek, silently urging you to continue, her face calm and open.
“I’ve been thinking about… you,” you admitted, your voice faltering slightly. The vulnerability of the statement hung between you, the air thick with it. “A lot.”
Lucy’s lips curved into a small, tender smile as she listened. She didn’t laugh or tease you like you might’ve feared. Instead, she looked at you with a warmth that made your heart flutter in your chest.
“I’ve been thinking about you too,” she said quietly, her voice sincere. “But I didn’t want to push you, and I didn’t want to rush into anything until you felt ready. I wanted to respect your boundaries and I am really happy you told me this before we went further, and you’re not behind at all by the way, everyone does things at their own pace.”
You nodded, appreciating her patience but feeling the need for honesty. “But really I… I’ve been more than ready,” you repeated, the words rushing out now that you had started. “It’s been hard for me to hold back. I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t want to… you know, go further with you. I’ve just never… done it before.” You didn’t know why you were repeating yourself, maybe to bring over to Lucy how much you meant it.
Lucy nodded, her hand moving to intertwine with yours. “I get it,” she said softly. “I’m really glad you told me. I want you to feel comfortable with whatever we do, and I don’t want you to feel like there’s any pressure.” She paused for a moment, searching your face. “But when you’re ready, whenever that is, I’m here. We’ll take it slow, together.”
You smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, resting your forehead against hers.
Lucy sighed contentedly as she lay beneath you on the couch, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm. After a moment, she cleared her throat, breaking the comfortable silence.
“So, um… your parents,” she started, her voice tentative. “Sunday dinner, huh? What’s that going to be like?”
You blinked, a little caught off guard by the shift in conversation. “What about it?” you asked, propping yourself up slightly to look at her.
Lucy gave a small, nervous laugh. “I don’t know, like… have you told them anything about me? Do they know we’re dating, or is this going to be a complete surprise?” She bit her lip, clearly a little anxious. “I just want to make sure I don’t mess this up.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Why are you thinking about that right now?” you asked, your tone playful as you began trailing soft kisses along her neck, nuzzling into the warmth of her skin.
Lucy let out a breathy laugh, though her body tensed slightly under your touch. “I—uh… I just don’t want to screw it up. Are you sure you really want to do this right now?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
She turned her head to look at you, concern flickering in her eyes. “I don’t want to rush you, y/n.”
You giggled against her neck, pressing a kiss just below her ear. “Three months isn’t enough of a wait for you?” you teased, a smile tugging at your lips.
Lucy chuckled, her body relaxing slightly as she looked up at you, her nerves fading a little. “Okay… so the dams have really broken now, haven’t they?” She raised her eyebrows, amused.
“Well, now that I’ve told you, and you didn’t get scared away... I have to admit, I’m kind of excited. I mean…” you grinned sheepishly. “I find you really attractive.”
She smiled as you moved your hand under her shirt, your fingertips brushing against her warm skin, you whispered, “I’m in love with you, Luce. I want to share that part of myself with you, too. And you know…” You paused, leaning down to kiss her collarbone. “Je sais à quel point tu es bon au football, alors je ne peux qu’imaginer que tes talents athlétiques s’étendent au-delà de ce jeu…’’ You whispered.  
Lucy giggled, swatting at you playfully. “Oh, you’re cheeky,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. But she glanced up at the ceiling with a grin and added, “Are you sure you’ve got no experience at all? It feels like I’m more out of it than you are right now.”
You sat up a little, shifting so that you were straddling her hips, your hands resting lightly on her stomach. You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh?” you asked, smirking slightly. “Has it been long for you?”
Lucy bit her lip, her gaze dropping for a moment before she admitted, “Maybe… half a year? I don’t know.”
“Versus 22 years,” you teased, rolling your eyes giggling. “I think I win.”
Lucy grinned, sitting up to face you, her hands resting on your waist. “Mmm, no. I think I win.” She leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with affection. “I’ve got the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life sitting on my lap right now.”
You felt your cheeks grow warm, your heart swelled in your chest. But instead of letting yourself get lost in the emotion, you smirked, leaning in close until your lips hovered just inches from hers. “Mmm, really?” you teased softly. “Tell me more…”
Lucy’s expression turned serious, though her eyes were still playful. “I mean it, y/n. Now that I know how much this means to you, I want it to be special… really special. I always wanted that for us, but now it feels even more important.”
You rolled your eyes in playful disbelief, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Mon chéri,” you whispered, brushing a kiss over her cheek, “we just had the most romantic dinner, confessed our love—I'd say that’s pretty perfect already, wouldn’t you? Besides, it’s already special because it’s with you, my love, you are the only person I could think of doing this with.”
Lucy’s smile deepened, and she reached up to brush her thumb along your cheek. “Perfect, sure,” she mused. “But… candles, flowers, fresh sheets…” She bit her lip, ‘’in my head I was going all out for you, I am not even wearing my good underwear, amour.’’
You chuckled, thinking of your preparations for today. ‘’I am.’’
You watched her pupils dilate, her eyes widening in surprise, and she swallowed hard, clearly taken aback. “Oh,” she said in a breathy tone, as if she had just forgotten how to speak.
You chuckled, watching her shift, almost flustered. “Are you getting shy, Luce?”
“No! It’s just that… I don’t know,” she stammered, running a hand through her hair, clearly struggling to keep her composure. “I really want to keep things slow, to be respectful and everything, but when you say things like that…” She scratched her neck, her voice barely a whisper, “it’s… hard to...”
“Hard to what?” you asked, delighted to see her cheeks flush, a sight you didn’t often get to see from her.
Lucy groaned, leaning back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s hard for me not to think about… taking things a little faster than planned.” Her voice came out all at once, as if she’d been holding it back.
You leaned in, your lips just grazing hers. “Well, what’s wrong with those thoughts, then?” you asked, teasingly brushing your fingers along her neck.
She exhaled softly, biting her lip as she hesitated. “Let’s… wait until after I’ve met your parents,” she finally managed, pulling back slightly, though it was clear that it took effort.
Your smile faltered, confusion and a hint of disappointment washing over you. “Oh… I thought…” You shifted off her, sitting up and moving to your own spot on the couch, feeling uncertain.
Lucy’s hand instinctively reached for yours, her expression tinged with a hint of panic. “No, no—y/n, it’s not that I don’t want to! I do, more than you know.” She looked down, as if gathering her thoughts. “I just thought, well, when you mentioned meeting your parents on Sunday, I figured it was important to you to wait until after that step.” She paused, glancing up at you with earnest eyes. “I actually had… this plan in my head for next week. Thursday, to be exact.”
You blinked, intrigued and slightly amused by her meticulousness. “You have… a plan?”
“Yeah,” she said, scratching her neck in that adorable way that always made you smile. “I even talked to your housemate to make sure she’d be out for the night. I thought, you know, after we’re official and all…” She laughed softly, glancing down shyly. “I was going to surprise you with candles, flowers, everything. It’d be in your own bed, so you’d be comfortable.” She pressed a hand to her chest, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t want to pressure you, of course, but I wanted it to be right for you—like, um… create a perfect moment for us.”
Your heart melted as you listened, and you could hardly contain the adoration shining in your eyes. Here was this amazing, thoughtful woman who loved you so deeply, wanting everything to be perfect.
“Luce, you’re… adorable,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss her, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude for such an incredible girlfriend.
You could feel the heat and intensity building between you, like two magnets drawn together. Your mouths met in a deep, fervent kiss, a silent conversation of everything you hadn’t said and all the things you were both holding back. It was a kiss full of promises, anticipation crackling in the air around you.
As the kiss deepened, Lucy’s hand slipped to your waist, and you let yourself sink into her warmth, into her presence.
After a moment, you pulled back just slightly, a small smirk crossing your face. “Are we sure we want to wait until next week?” you whispered, your voice low. “Today is a Thursday too.”
She took a deep breath, nervous laughter lighting up the room. “Well, I don’t know if I want that, but I think it would be best, so yes, I think I want that.”
“Thursday can’t come soon enough,” you groaned.
You both laughed, the intensity giving way to a moment of lightheartedness as you laid together, feeling secure, knowing that when the time was right, it would be everything you both had been waiting for.
After a while Lucy scooped you up into her arms effortlessly, grinning as you let out a surprised laugh. She headed toward the bedroom, ignoring your glance back at the kitchen.
“We really should clean up first,” you protested lightly, glancing over her shoulder at the table still set with empty plates and a bottle of wine.
Lucy shook her head, a smirk playing on her lips. “Nope,” she said, nudging the bedroom door open with her hip. “Tonight we can cuddle, tomorrow we’ll worry about that again.”
Once in the bedroom, Lucy set you down at the edge of the bed.
You felt your cheeks warm as you began to undress, carefully slipping out of your top, suddenly hyperaware of her eyes on you. You hesitated, noticing she’d turned her head away slightly, as if trying to give you privacy, even now.
“No, you can look,” you murmured softly, smiling as her gaze shifted back to you, her eyes meeting yours with such warmth that your heart fluttered. “You’re my girlfriend,” you added, the last word feeling new and sweet on your lips.
Lucy’s gaze traveled over you slowly, and you felt a blush rising to your cheeks as you slipped out of your top and bra, letting them fall softly to the floor. For the first time, her eyes settled on the bare skin of your chest, and you could see her breath catch for a moment, her lips parting as she took you in.
You felt a mix of warmth and shyness under her gaze, but her expression was so open, so purely admiring, that you felt at ease. When her gaze lifted to yours, her eyes held a soft awe that made your heart skip. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.
You smiled, feeling both vulnerable and cherished in that moment, before turning to her closet and reaching for one of her oversized shirts to slip on. As you lifted it over your head, Lucy let out a little chuckle, recovering herself, and as she undressed down to her boxers and sports bra, her cheeks were pink.
Once undressed, you both climbed into bed, buried under the comforter as you found each other in the dim light, legs tangling together. She pulled you close, and her mouth met yours again, warm and gentle.
The kiss deepened, lips moving slowly, savoring each touch, each taste. Lucy’s hand rested on the small of your back, sliding upward with a feather-light touch that sent soft tingles across your skin. You felt a pleasant, fluttering warmth in your stomach as her fingers brushed over you.
Your own hands explored her too, grazing the line of her jaw, the smooth skin of her shoulder, and then down to her waist, lingering as you took in every detail. With every kiss, your heart raced faster, your body responding to her closeness, feeling both electric and calm at once.
But just as things were growing more intense, you felt a faint pulse of nerves, next Thursday was maybe not so bad. “Wait,” you whispered, smiling softly, though your cheeks were warm. “We haven’t brushed our teeth yet.”
Lucy paused, her eyes immediately searching yours, understanding lighting up in her gaze. She brushed a gentle hand over your cheek, offering a reassuring smile. “Totally forgot,” she said softly. Her hand found yours as she guided you to the bathroom, fingers intertwined as you both stood side by side at the sink.
You shared smiles as you brushed your teeth together, Lucy’s shoulder bumping lightly against yours, and even things like this simple routine felt special in her presence.
As you finished, you turned to find her already smiling, her hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
Back in bed, Lucy wrapped her arm around you as you nestled close, her hand resting comfortably over your hip. You let yourself settle, your head on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart, your own hand resting on her stomach, feeling the warmth of her skin and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.
In the quiet, with Lucy’s arm wrapped around you and her hand softly resting on you, sleep came easily, and the last thing you heard before drifting off was the sound of her breathing, steady and warm, and the quiet, whispered words she murmured just before you both faded into dreams; “Goodnight, my love.”
-
I hope you guys like this, I felt a bit rusty writing again, but I think in the future I might be writing more woso fics.
Part 2 of this will follow soon!
-J.
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ladykailitha · 3 months ago
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The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 12
Welcome to act 2. These are going to be a rough set of chapters for Steve. I hate to do it, but I've got to get him low, to have Eddie build him back up.
If you've been following along to WIP Wednesday, you'll know (or at least suspect) that I'm nearing the end of act 2 and the return of Eddie.
Then I'm not sure how much longer it's going to be. It could be a couple of chapters. But it might be several.
Here we have Jeff teasing Steve and Eddie. Steve decides to spend all his money on movies and popcorn, and at last a wild Birdie appears.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
~
It took a month before Clint Harrington gave up on his crusade to chase his son out of town. That didn’t make Steve safe, per se, just safer. But he took what little comfort in that that he could.
The kids were jealous of the Sunbird, Mike finally admitting that yes, some mysterious benefactor had come in and swept Steve off his feet. He was a kept man.
Steve squirmed at the term. He was going to start looking for work. Just as soon as the dust settled. There was no point in looking when Clint Harrington was just going to come in and throw his weight around get him fired again.
Mike just rolled his eyes when he explained it to the kids, but Max was of the idea to milk for as much as it was worth.
“Seriously, Steve,” Max huffed, “if I could live in a hotel and swim whenever I wanted and order as much food as I wanted, I’d never want to leave.”
He scoffed. “That’s because you’re like ten and actually have friends your age or did you all forget that my dad chased all my friends off?”
“Ooh,” Lucas said clicking his tongue and shaking his head, “yeah, man. That’s rough. And it doesn’t help that this place has one movie theater, an arcade, and a handful of specialty shops none of which scream fun times for teenagers.”
“Yeah,” Will said from the couch, “Jonathan has been complaining about it all summer. There’s Bloomington or Indy, but considering you don’t know which direction your parents went, you’re pretty much stuck in Hell.”
Steve waved his hand at Will. “See? Will gets it.”
So all the kids got their heads together will Claudia and Joyce and tried to plot out something for Steve to do so that he wouldn’t have be staring at the same set of walls every day, no matter how gorgeous those walls happened to be.
Which is how Steve became cinaphile. He started just picking random movies to see at random times of the day during the week. His favorite time to go was Tuesday afternoons before the middle school got out. Not enough time for high school students to evade the place, but later than the moms taking their small children as a way to beat the summer heat.
It also allowed him to find new genres he liked and through all this Eddie stayed his constant phone companion. He loved listening to Steve talk about the plot and how hot the actors were. It was fun.
Steve was also starting to make friends with the rest of the band. He found out who the other person that picked up before thinking it was his phone that was ringing.
“Hey, is Eddie around?” Steve had asked, calling the mobile phone.
“He just stepped out for a minute but he’ll be right back,” the person said. “I’m Jeff by the way, I’m the one that picked up before.”
“Oh hello!” Steve said in surprise. “You’re the other guitarist, right?”
Jeff laughed. “Yeah that’s me. Thanks for not saying ‘the black one’ by the way.”
“Happens a lot?” he asked with a grimace.
“All the time,” Jeff deadpanned. “All the god damned time.”
“That must be shitty,” Steve commiserated. “I guess it’s not quite the same as saying the blond one or the tall one.”
“Yeaaaahhh, no,” Jeff said. “The other two are neutral attributes while being black carries a certain disdain to it.”
“One of the families I used to babysit before this all went to hell,” Steve said, “was a black family and I didn’t realize all the little shit they go through each day. All the snide remarks and sneering glances all the for the crime of existing in the grocery store.”
“Yeah,” Jeff agreed. “Oh wait, your lover boy is back. Hey Ed, it’s Steve.”
“Little Canary!” Eddie said excitedly upon being given the phone. “Jeff didn’t spill any of my secrets did he?”
Steve heard Jeff laugh in the background. “I didn’t know there were secrets he kept... I’m going to have to pump him for information next time.”
‘No, no, no,” Eddie whined. “Not allowed! Shoo Jeffy. Mine! Shoo!”
“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Steve giggled. “You can tell all your secrets yourself the next time you’re in Hawkins.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said softly. “I think I’d like that very much.”
“You’re just a gooey marshmallow, aren’t you?” Steve said with a giggle. “A perfectly roasted marshmallow. Hard on the outside, but all melty and gooey on the inside. Sweet and sticky.”
Eddie burst out laughing. “You really had me going there until the sticky part. Yeah, baby. I’ll be your marshmallow and you’ll be my little Canary.”
“Yeah, Eds,” Steve said, “I’d really like that.”
They talked for a little bit longer before Eddie hummed.
“Steve we have to talk about the last month of the tour,” he said seriously.
Steve’s blood froze in his veins. Eddie rarely called him ‘Steve’. It was a petname like baby, sweetheart, or honey, or little Canary, or maybe even Stevie. But never Steve. “Oh yeah? What about?”
“We’re going to be in Canada,” Eddie continued. “I’ll still be able to call, but only from hotel rooms. I don’t get good service there.”
The ice in his veins turned to lead in his stomach. “So while you’re on the road, you won’t be able to call me?” he asked, his voice small.
“Oh, little Canary,” Eddie said sympathetically. “I’ll try to call from payphones when we stop for gas, but yeah. It’ll be pretty sporadic. But I’ve gotten Chrissy to promise that she’ll take good care you.”
“She still doesn’t like, you know,” Steve said, “she thinks I’m distracting you from doing your job.”
“Which is fucking ridiculous,” Eddie assured him. “I shake my ass on stage and sing and play my heart out. I never skimp on that, and never walk out one meet and greets with the fans. It’s her job to worry, but it’s not your problem. It’s mine. Plus I have my little elf in play who will be plying you with as many little bird gifts I can find.”
Steve couldn’t help but smile at that. He had gotten in addition to the necklace that he only took off to shower, a couple of graphic t-shirts with canaries on them. A keychain as well as one with his name on it. Three little ceramic canaries and a glass one. All brought in by Eddie’s little elf.
“Yeah, okay,” he huffed. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”
“Well, I’ve got to go, babe,” Eddie murmured, “I’ll talk to later. The change won’t happen right away, but I’ll tell you when the date gets closer, okay?”
“Roger that,” Steve said with a sigh of relief. Then they hung up and he flopped on the sofa like a fainting Victorian maiden. In a couple of weeks, he would go back to being as lonely as fuck.
He didn’t even know who the little elf was or why they never showed themselves. All though, knowing Eddie, it was probably just because he thought it was cute. Which it was. It was also a little on the creepy side. He had gotten to know the porters, bellboys, and cleaning staff very well, so he didn’t mind them coming in while he was out or even in the shower.
But a mysterious person whom he knew nothing about? Yeah that was a problem. He didn’t know if they were male or female, how old they were, were they friendly or just doing their job.
To say it drove Steve nuts would be an understatement.
It had been six weeks since his dad chucked him out for making out with Tommy on the sofa and all that time he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the bastard or any of their friends. It was just then his luck ran out.
He had accidentally spilled almost his whole bottle of shampoo and had to go and get more. He spoke briefly to Joyce and chatted with her about Will and how Jonathan was adjusting to being newly graduated and turned around to run directly into someone.
“Shit!” Steve hissed as the basket he was carrying slammed into his stomach. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
He looked up, right into the green eyes and freckled face of Tommy Hagan.
“Steve!”
“Hey, Tommy,” Steve said with a fake smile. “How have you been?” The unasked question of ‘why did you leave me?’ hung in the air between them.
Tommy reached up and rubbed the material of Steve’s shirt between his finger and thumb. “That’s some pretty fancy new getup you’ve got there. Where you get the money for such nice things?”
Steve took a step back and crossed his arms. “I’m surviving. Like I always do.” He hated how he was already put on the defensive.
“Mhmm...” Tommy purred. “Pretty little slut like you, I bet you’ve got yourself a sugar daddy you’ve spread your legs for.”
Dread immediately pooled in Steve’s stomach. That wasn’t what Eddie was? Was he?
He smacked Tommy’s hand away. “Jealous that someone is fucking me better than you ever could? Maybe I have someone paying my bills or maybe I just have a trust fund. I’ll never tell you jack shit.”
The thing was is that he probably did have a trust fund. He just wouldn’t get it until he turned twenty-one. He had two years of running on empty he would have to do first. At least he had until Eddie came home anyway.
“No,” Tommy agreed, “you were always more of a screamer than a talker.”
Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed. “At least I didn’t run like a bitch when my parents walked in on us fucking. You find another dick to ride or did you go back to Carol like the coward you are?”
Tommy scowled. “You keep her name out your dirty mouth, Stevie boy. You don’t want to see what will happen if you don’t.”
“Yeah,” Steve said with a snort, “you’ll go running back to Daddy to protect you, like always do. Now pardon me, I have better things to do.” His eyes flicked over Tommy’s body. “If you hadn’t been the only option, I wouldn’t have picked you.”
He pushed passed him, bumping their shoulders together as he did.
He quickly bought what he needed and about as much junk food as he could get hands on. Joyce looked as though she wanted to ask if he was okay, so picked a different line to go though, hurrying out to his car. He looked around to make sure Tommy wasn’t waiting for him, but he didn’t see his car.
He drove back to the hotel, ready for a junk food night in front of the TV. He ordered room service and turned on the shower to wash off the slimy feeling of the interaction with Tommy. He had removed his shirt when he realized he had left the shampoo out there.
He opened the door and stopped in his tracks. Because there putting a couple of boxes on the end table was a girl with choppy blonde hair and boxy clothes. She was definitely not staff.
“So you’re my elf.”
~
Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21
Tag List: CLOSED
1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji
5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt
9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec
10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts
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gulliblelemon · 4 months ago
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Young Royals Fic Recommendations 4
Find previous lists here: 1, 2, 3.
I also have my own fic list here.
the only way out is through (and other lies) by c_violet @peakotp 13k words. Complete. Rating T. Wilhelm never got out of the car that sunny, terrible June day. His moment of clarity is... delayed. A collection of ficlets, all moments from a single post-finale AU, built around the Wille's Month 2024 prompts.
Follow the Sparks by emerybemery 80k words. Complete. Rating M. Wille agrees to fake date his friend Simon, thinking it will be a simple task, over before it really begins. He could not be more wrong.
and if my heart should somehow stop by @grapehyasynth 2k words. Complete. Rating T. When he told them that he hadn’t seen Wilhelm in three years, they had asked if Simon was available, if he could come down to a morgue in the west of the city, if he could identify a body. (Happy ending!) (Honourable mention to when I'm broken and bent, would you take me on the mend by the same author)
You’re the risk I want to take by @hergrandplan 41k words. Complete. Rating M. When Simon, an editorial assistant at one of Sweden’s most prominent commercial publishing houses, stumbles upon a manuscript sent in by a mysterious W. Viklund, he doesn’t expect it to be any good. He certainly doesn’t expect to fall in love with it.
kindling by intothelight @enjoythesilentworld 4k words. Complete. Rating E. While everything around them burns, Simon and Wille find comfort in each other. (Honourable mention to Tuesdays by the same author).
Foolproof by itsme_hi_imtheproblem @iwouldnevergetintofanfic 73k words. Complete. Rating E. When Prince Wilhelm and Simon Eriksson run into each other at a party, they are still very much heartbroken and determined to get their partners back. Or at least get thoroughly back at them.  (Honourable mention to The Winner Takes It All by the same author).
be the place you call home by phnelt @phneltwrites 30k words. Complete. Rating E. Post-canon, after winning an award, Simon attends his first royal reception as a guest. They deal with the fallout.
Cause That's What Love Is, Darling by technicallynotafan 4k words. Complete. Rating T. Simon loves being a parent - except on those rare days when he doesn't. A non-instagram-worthy bedtime at the Eriksson household.
Even If It's Just Us by queerfrogprince @thewaterloovases 20k words. WIP. Rating M. When Wilhelm loses his brother and is left alone with his grief, a pre-booked summer trip around Europe, and no one to take in Erik's place, he finds himself inviting Simon, his former high school best friend (and long-time crush).
When I'm in your arms by saynomore @saynomorefic 781 words. Complete. Rating T. Simon reflects on physical touch throughout his relationship.
Gold and Silver by signedmeraki @invisiblewille 6k words. Complete. Rating T. Normally the main fight at the Olympics is to see who gets first. But ever since Simon took the swimming world by a storm during the Rio Olympics in 2016, it's not been a question of who would get first, but who would join the Venezuelan swimmer and his equally accomplished Swedish rival on the podium in third.
Kyss mig meg dina röda läppar by @skibasyndrome 3k words. Complete. Rating T. Wille and Simon are friends sharing cherries at a picnic. (Honourable mention to One, two, three (Not only you and me) by the same author).
my rain soaked body was shaking (do you hate me?) by sundaisyHD @sundelionskyisland 2k words. Complete. Rating T. Simon has a bad night and calls Wille, his ex.
Incognito Mode by @oneofthosebells 78k words. WIP. Rating E. Wilhelm turns to camshows to help take the edge off, and maybe explore some of those repressed feelings a little bit further. It was never meant to lead to an all-consuming obsession, falling in love, and a whole load of shit hitting the fan.
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hotties4gojo · 2 days ago
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i’m now realizing that literally like. 3 of you know about The List of my upcoming fics that I plan on posting here so I thought I’d share some of my WIP list!! ofc this isn’t EVERYTHING on my WIP list (this is only 12 of them) but these are some of the fics I’m working on <3 oyabun gojo and the first tattoo artist geto will probably be the first two I post but welllll we’ll see
1. In which tattoo artist Suguru talks so sweet and showers you in praise while doing the nastiest, freakiest, non god honoring things to you. (fem!reader)
snippet: He pulls out, cockhead drooling like a dog pining after a bone, and you whine at the loss. You’re plenty wet enough from cumming twice already, but, well… without a word, he allows saliva to pool in his mouth and Suguru crooks his neck to properly angle himself over your back.
Beneath him, you bend like a cat in heat, muscles visibly quivering beneath your sweat-slicked skin that isn’t covered by your dress as you try to mindlessly push back against him, profanities absorbed by the pillow your mouth is pressed into. You’re petal-soft beneath his hands; you unfurl like one, too.
Suguru doesn’t spit— he parts his lips, letting a glob of saliva roll down his tongue slow and molasses-like until it snaps and splatters where your cunt draws him in, long sooty eyelashes fluttering in expected surprise at the cool temperature of it. You hiss, shuddering. That’s when he slowly feeds the rest of his inches back into you, stirring the frothy honey pot of saliva, cum, slick.
“Nasty fucking freak,” you manage to rasp around a moan that comes out quaky at the drag of Suguru’s cock piercings against your tender inner walls.
2. In which you and Satoru get drunk and nasty in the bathroom at a college party. (fem!reader)
snippet: It doesn’t seem to end. Satoru’s shoulders shake and he laughs himself fucking sick, to the point that it makes his vision swim and he teeters. Oh, he’s gone. The man is finished. He can barely stand without wobbling, let alone undress.
”Sweeee—“ A hiccup interrupts him, “eeets. Need y’r help with m’pants. ‘Slike— ‘slike made of butter or sumthin’, dunno. Pleaseee, need ‘em off,” Satoru whines pathetically between giggles as he tries to hump against you like a dog in heat. He’s beyond drunk on love and alcohol.
3. In which Satoru firmly denies that he’s in love with you, his childhood best friend— when he actually has been for his entire life. (gn!reader)
snippet: It bothers him more than he’d like to admit. Because fuck, Satoru wishes he could call you his. Each reminder that you’re not makes him feel weirdly sensitive, so he just smiles sharply and waves it off. It’s worse when you laugh whenever someone brings it up.
You’re the first person he’s ever taken along on an overseas trip with his family as a plus one. He’s the first person you’ve ever taught how to carve a pumpkin. They’re each other’s many firsts.
(He wishes you had been the first person he was ever intimate with.)
You’re his first crush, too. Of course you are. He’s been hopelessly, awfully in love with you since they built a sandcastle together that fateful first day on the beach and you announced that they’d ‘share’ the mini bedroom (which was impossible). Still, little Satoru had flushed a bright red and took great interest in the seagull stealing someone’s chips.
But Satoru can’t just upturn their friendship with his own selfishness. No way. He firmly buries all thoughts of that with the occasional hookups with randos or short-lived relationships.
It’s best this way.
4. In which Oyabun Satoru and his wife, one of his secretaries, get down and dirty in his office. (fem!reader)
snippet: Looking down at you through long white lashes that flutter like the first snowfall of winter, his gaze is a mix of playfulness and appreciation in its rawest form. Satoru has to admit, this view is far more pleasant than any spreadsheet that he was pretending to give his attention to before you strode in.
Your perch on his desk gives you an air of sophisticated dominance that makes his cock give a very interested twitch in his trousers that he can’t help. Sue him for being horrendously attracted to his wife. Though he towers over you by a mere head due to the slight height advantage that his desk gives you, there’s no doubt that he yields completely and utterly to you. His brain conjures up an image of Nike, the Greek goddess of victory. Glorious and championing above the rest of them; victorious.
Woof, he thinks unintelligently.
5. In which tattoo artist Suguru’s roommate has been borrowing his clothes and he’s struggling with the feelings that come with it. (fem!reader)
snippet: You always look so cozy in his clothes that you look more natural wearing them than he does. His brain tends to bluescreen whenever he spies you in them, his thoughts unhelpfully providing frankly delusional and unrealistic scenarios where you’re wearing them because you’re dating him and take comfort in your ‘boyfriend’s’ clothes.
Those thoughts are dangerous enough on their own. But combined with the images that flash through his head of what you look like beneath his tops, which he remembers vividly from the day he pierced your nipples where you not only took your shirt off but he touched your bare skin with his gloved fingers, too… they’re lethal.
Personal boundaries are blurring more than usual. Though it’d be smart to draw a line in the sand and bar you from taking his stuff, Suguru can’t bring himself to do so. Not when seeing you in his clothes secretly flusters and warms him at the same time.
Letting you continue to borrow them is harmless. Surely.
6. In which you and Satoru become parents in their fourth and last year at Jujutsu High. (fem!reader)
snippet: One of his biggest solaces is that it won't always be like this— the constant exhaustion, the anxiety. Someday, they'll find their footing and learn how to balance it all. When you and Satoru graduate, they won’t have to stay in their cramped dorm with their bed in one corner, a crib in the other, and the tiny kitchenette full of baby bottles, sweets, and instant ramen. He’ll buy them all a nice big house with a backyard for Satoshi to play in.
(Being a father at eighteen years old, a partner, a student, and the strongest sorcerer all at once is an overwhelming balancing act. But he can't let it show. He has to be the unflappable Satoru Gojo, the man who can handle it all with a smile. He just hopes he can keep it together long enough to give his family the life they deserve.)
7. In which you, the CEO of your own company, get pregnant via artificial insemination— and your younger personal assistant, Satoru, fights for his life because he happens to love milfs. (fem!reader)
snippet: i have no presentable lines rn tewbehones
8. In which you put Satoru in his place as you shouldddd! (fem!reader)
snippet: "Ohhh fuck, your cunt is— it's s-so fucking good," Satoru slurs out, his words running together in a watery stream as he drowns in his girlfriend's perfect pussy. His fingers dig into the meat of your ass, spreading your cheeks wide and using his grip as leverage as he pumps up into you. "I need to cum so bad, sugar, please say I can. I'm your good boy, right? I've earned it, haven't I?"
9. In which Satoru realizes he’s about to lose his virginity and panics. (fem!reader)
snippet: Satoru almost responds with something like ‘if I do, I think I’ll prove the human combustion theory correct,’ or ‘are you actually about to take me to coochie-land?’ or, god forbid, ‘WOOF WOOF WOOF,’ but tries for something less brainlessly desperate.
Fuck, he needs one of those Life Alert clickers.
“This corner of your bed is the perfect spot to ponder so I’m just taking advantage of this golden opportunity, sweets. I’m thinking about the systematic oppression of women so hard right now,” Satoru tries as he nods sagely, as if to convince himself of his own bullshit. He stares at the wall while nervously bouncing his leg.
CEO sugar daddy Suguru and sugar baby reader mini series:
10. installment 1/4: In which CEO Suguru meets you in a bar, offers to be your sugar daddy, and eats you out in the bathroom while they discuss a contract— all in one night. (fem!reader)
snippet: Perhaps you notice the wedding bands on their fingers just as Suguru has, or maybe you value yourself too much to associate with, frankly, greasy and sleazy looking pursuers. Whatever the case, you have self respect and charm in heaps. That’s something he likes.
Suguru supposes it wouldn’t hurt to try his hand at wooing you. He has nothing to lose and everything to gain— that, and he’s most certainly not gonna let that sweetheart, all pretty face no waist, get snatched up by some loser.
11. In which you, the heir to the throne, and your first ever concubine Suguru teach your second and newest concubine, Satoru, the ropes. (fem!reader)
snippet: Suguru sits up, his kimono, embellished with silvery moons, sliding off of one of his elegant shoulders. “I am here to play witness to, and aid in, your introduction to the duties of a concubine. But I did not think it would be… you, of all people, to walk through those doors.”
Throwing a tantrum without actually throwing a tantrum, Satoru kicks off his sandals and marches towards the bed. He plants one knee on the cushy edge of it, ignoring Suguru’s soft hiss of “have you no respect for Your Highness’s space?” and points at the other concubine.
“Hah? What’s that supposed to mean, you stiff-necked prude?” Satoru jabs snidely.
12. In which you and Satoru babysit your niece for the day. (gn!reader)
snippet: Satoru squats as you lead Mei to him, folding himself into something smaller and kinder for her, legs bowing out like a frog’s and blue eyes level with her round ones. You release her hand and she fidgets as she takes him in, murmuring a shy, “hi.”
“Hey, Mei. Those are some nice shoes you’ve got there,” he tells the four-year-old, internally crying and punching the floor because ohmygod those tiny little booties are killing him. Mei breaks out into a toothy grin and Satoru really does nearly punch the floor, but restrains himself as to not spook her (and invite your ire).
“We’ll have lots of fun today while your mama Sagiri is busy, okay?” He sticks out his pinky, wiggling it a little when Mei blinks curiously at him until she interlaces their pinkies in a promise. Her finger is so tiny around his, all bite-sized bones and squishy chubby skin. He beams, then peeks up at you, jokingly mouthing ‘we soooo need to steal her from your sister.’
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acesandocs · 8 months ago
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The gang indulges in some unrestrained summer fun!
This has been a wip for gosh knows how long, but I managed to get it done. It started with just Maire but then everyone got to join in.
The gang mostly belongs to @libras-interactives Lottie belongs to @maryannsstrawberry i belive. So sorry for misattributing her to Libra. Who has custody of Little Lottie I'm still unsure of tho.
Individual pngs below (theyre suposed to be transparent, but i guess tumblr can just decide not to do that sometimes. free website and all that), as well as art thoughts.
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We’ll go from left to right
Jack: I feel like if Jack is going to the beach he need some protection from the sun. So along with a early 1920s style mens swimsuit, he’s also got a sun hat and a housecoat. I based it of a womans house coat as they look very light and breathable which probably helps with the heat while keeping him safe from sun. House coats were also generally not uncomon to wear on the beach. I also just like messing around with gender presentation in my art. I’m sure Marius approves.
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Marius: Marius is sporting a mens bathing suit from the late 1920s. As he is very fashion forward I felt it fit him to wear something a bit more up to date. His fur pattern does make it look like he was wearing shorts and a t shirt and got sunburned lol. I based his fur on Eveline’s and the photos of the cat he was based on. Maybe a gradient would make it look a bit less silly idk. Feel free to weigh in if you have any ideas.
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Eveline: I know Eveline prefers clothing from the late 1900-1910s more but I really loved how she looked with her hair up. I based her bathing suit on a 1920s version but added a few flairs to give it a bit more of a retro vibe for the time.
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The Lotties: I gave Lottie a bathing suit with a belt and a cap. As per the laws of the Lackadaisy-verse her ears are tucked safely into her cap. No ear holes here. I wanted to give her a beach bag but I couldn't find any type of purse specifically for that so she’s got a shopping bag instead. I felt she needed somewhere to keep little Lottie's beach toys and sun screen, speaking of: She is wearing a very normal child's bathing suit. Not much to say on it. I focused more on her posing than her fashion.
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Máire: the original name for this drawing when I was just planning on drawing her was bathing beauties… Anyway, she strikes me as someone who uses her time at the beach to relax and look good while doing it. Her swimsuit is based on something I saw on Pinterest. It had flowers painted on it which strikes me more as being ornamental. Shes also a pair of fashionable heals and a parasol.
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And last but not least Malwina: Malvina’s bathing suit is technically from 1926, so maybe she is just way ahead of the trends. Her shoes are laced beach shoes. I feel like shed take the opertunity to enjoy the fresh air, and swim in the cooling water. Maybe check out some cute boys. I think shed enjoy having a day where she can just be a normal teenager.
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Mc is probably around. Maybe off buying soda pops for everyone.
My main source for most of this was vintage dancer
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purplehairedwonder · 19 days ago
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i wish you would write a fic where, for whatever reason, Law’s been brainwashed/amnesia’d/mind-controlled and has to make his way out of it without having a premade plan in place.
I love that you said this, anon, because this is actually on my list to write already. A little snippet from the WIP:
“If you’re going to kill me, then just do it,” Law spat.
“Kill you?” Doflamingo repeated, putting on a feigned air of surprise. “Why would I kill you when I have you right where I want you, Law? The prodigal son returned and all that.”
“You can chain me to the damn Heart seat, but that won’t make me your Heart,” Law sneered.
“No,” Doflamingo said, seemingly unbothered. His lack of concern about Law’s refusal had alarm bells blaring in the back of Law’s mind. Something was wrong. “I suppose it doesn’t.”
Doflamingo nodded to the guard at the door. The guard bowed and opened the door. A tall man Law didn’t recognize stepped through and made his way across the room toward Doflamingo. He wore a long coat despite Dressrosa’s heat and carried a cane with a handle curved to look like a question mark. The king’s lips pulled back in a smirk as the man stopped at his side.
“Doflamingo,” the man greeted, inclining his head. His voice was low and melodic.
“Enigma.”
Law stiffened, and Doflamingo noticed. “Ah, I believe Law here has heard of you.”
Of course Law had heard of Enigma. He was a renowned hypnotist in the underworld. It was said he could hypnotize a fish into forgetting it could swim. He offered his services to anyone, pirate or Marine, who could pay—and his services were not cheap.
“Trafalgar Law,” Enigma said, turning to Law and eyeing him up and down. Law felt uncomfortably transparent under the man’s piercing gaze. “A member of the Worst Generation with a bounty of 400,000 berries before it was frozen upon becoming a Warlord.” He turned back to Doflamingo. “So, he is the one you brought me here for?”
“That’s right,” Doflamingo said, smirk growing as Law’s eyes widened.
“Very well,” Enigma said. “Let’s begin.”
“No,” Law said, panic rising in his chest as Enigma stepped toward him. He didn’t know exactly what Doflamingo wanted Enigma to do, but whatever it was, it would change him in some foundational way. Despite wielding what some called the ultimate devil fruit, Law’s greatest weapon was his mind. Even when his body had failed him as a child, he’d still had his mind. And Doflamingo, it seemed, intended to take that from him. He looked past the hypnotist to Doflamingo and pleaded, “Just kill me.”
“Fufufu, and lose my Corazon after all these years? I think not.”
Law’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No.”
Enigma reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pocket watch. He held onto the chain and let the watch drop to hang in midair.
“Keep your eyes on the watch, Trafalgar.”
Law screwed his eyes shut. He couldn’t let this happen. Cora-san had given his life so Law could be free; he couldn’t let his sacrifice be for nothing. A sharp pain erupted around his eyes, and Law cried out as strings dug into his eyelids and pulled them open. He thrashed in the Heart throne as his eyes were sewn open and blood dripped down his cheeks in a facsimile of tears.
Doflamingo, who was now standing next to the Heart throne, grabbed Law’s chin and held it firm. He made a shushing sound. “Now, now, none of that. Don’t worry, little bird. It’ll be over soon.”
“No,” Law moaned as he cast his eyes around the room to avoid looking at the hypnotist in front of him. “Please, no.” His breath hitched when he caught sight of Luffy standing in the window on the far side of the room, eyes wide and concern splashed across his features. Next to him, Violet had a hand on his arm, holding him back. For a brief moment, their gazes locked and Law could only think, I’m sorry for bringing you into this.
And then Enigma stepped into his line of vision, and Law couldn’t help but look at the swinging watch in front of him. The moment he caught sight of the watch, his body became heavy and his thoughts turned fuzzy. He slumped in the Heart throne, unable to move anything but his eyes as they followed the moving watch.
“Good,” Enigma said, his melodic voice further lulling Law into a trance. “Can you hear me, Trafalgar?”
“Yes,” Law mumbled. 
“Very good. Now, I want you go to back thirteen years…”
Send me an anymous (or not) summary of the fic you wish I would write. (maybe I will write a tidbit)
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try-set-me-on-fire · 8 months ago
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Hiiii 💕💕💕
For the wip game (the highlighted ones)
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-❤️🪐
Hello!! For you since you’ve been interested in it for awhile and i promised you a scene ages ago and only just now finished it: big heart, I wanna let it bleed, aka buck joins the team younger fic! Here’s a complete drabble about them running into Phillip on a call…
They’re not in an enclosed space but, somehow, the kid’s laughter is still echoing around them. Bobby tries to bite down on his smile as he calls a vaguely warning “Buck,” though he’s not too worried about professionalism seeing as the surfer — who’s trunks are truly mystifyingly tangled on his board — is cracking up even harder. He’s sort of… hung up there, board stuck nose down in the sand, man dangling up on the back end of it. They seem too far up the beach for a wave to have done this, but what does Bobby know, he’s from a landlocked state.
“Sorry, Cap,” Buck wheezes. “Do we, uh… need the ladder?”
Bobby takes a measured inhale as he hears some kind of frantically smothered squeak sound coming from — is that Chimney? One of the paramedics, anyway — and shakes his head. “I think we can just lower the board down, if you’ll give me a hand. That sound alright to you, sir?”
The surfer gets through a few more wheezing chuckles before he can say “Yeah dude, lower away.”
They manage it pretty smoothly, with him and Buck on either side and Hen and Chim ready to catch the weight of the surfer. Hen starts off the next small round of laughter as she tries to de-tangle the swim trunks to move their vic, but everybody manages to calm down as they get to the actual medical examination.
As Hen and Chimney poke and prod, Buck chatters. “I learned to surf a few years ago, over in the Carolinas.”
“No shit?” The surfer grins. “Like Charleston? I gotta cousin over there.”
“Yeah, Folly Beach sometimes, but mostly went up to the Banks.”
“Sick.” The surfer gestures to where Hen’s wrapping some gauze around his bloodied elbow. “What’s your worst wipeout?”
Buck laughs again, a little delighted sound, always happy to be included. “Oh man- My first time out on the water, like the second wave I ever caught, just tossed me right off completely.” He tugs up his shirt before Bobby dawn shake his head not to, and twists around to show a jagged old scar on his lower back. “Landed on some rocks, needed fourteen stitches.”
The surfer whistles as Hen shakes her head. “I don’t think you’ll need any stitches for this one, but there’s enough debris in there I’m gonna recommend we take you to the hospital so they can get it all out.”
“Sure thing,” the guy says, looking more relaxed than Buck taking a nap on the couch after second helpings of mac and cheese. “Thanks man.”
“No problem,” Bobby says, definitely no trace of a chuckle in his voice no matter the delighted glances his team sends him.
The surfer tries to twist towards Buck once they get him on the gurney, winces, and then just turns his head. “You ever surf out here?”
“Have a few times, but I don't have a board or anything.”
“Man, you should come out and join us! We got a group most weekday mornings, I'm sure somebody could get you set up.”
Buck looks happy as a dog with a bone, glancing at Bobby with a mile wide grin. It's a familiar kind of look, though it takes until they're almost at the ambulance — Buck chatting away all the while — for him to place it, and it nearly makes him stumble when he does. Robert would give him that look when he made a new friend on the playground and got invited to hang out. Please, Dad, can I go? He's sure Buck didn't mean anything by it. Bobby doesn't have that authority in his life, nicknames and Springsteen concerts nothing that adds up to a tangible connection. And the kid- well, he's not a kid. 25 years old, can arrange his own playdates perfectly well. Still, Bobby feels a little off kilter as they load the ambulance.
“Rad, man, see you around.” The surfer is grinning at Buck, two happy little suns shining at each other. “Ask for Stevey,” he says, loosely pointing at himself. Steven Barney, he'd given as his name to dispatch.
Buck smiles, waves goodbye. “I'm-”
“Evan?”
Buck turns like a man in a haunted house, startled at an impossible sound with all the color draining out of him. The apparition takes the appearance of a white man a little older than Bobby, wearing neat, pale clothes and a sort of constipated, caught expression. They see that look on calls sometimes, with men who are going through an emergency with women who are not their wives and who are still trying to pretend they've done nothing at all untoward.
“D-” Buck blinks, a few times, hard. “Dad?”
Bobby can't help joining in Hen and Chin's shared oh shit look. There's not an overly familiar resemblance between the two — perhaps a shared stake in forehead real estate — but the man doesn't refute it. “I'll let you get back to work,” he says, glancing towards the sea, the ambulance, eyes landing briefly on Bobby before jumping away again, startled.
“Wait, wh-” Buck steps forward, hand wandering out in front of him before dropping back to his side. “What are you doing in LA? Did you have- a-a work trip?”
Buck's father clears his throat. “It's Brian’s birthday.”
“Oh,” Buck says, blinking again, rapidly this time, a fish thrown in new water. “He- he lives in California now?”
“No, no,” the man says dismissively, like he doesn't know why anyone on earth would choose to live in California. “He’s retiring early, wanted to make a weekend of it.”
“So-” Buck scrambles, visibly, and it makes Bobby aware of the small audience of first responders (and surfer), so he closes the ambulance door despite Hen and Chim’s wide eyes and shaking heads, and thumps the back so they pull away. Buck doesn’t seem to notice either way. “You’re- you’re here for a few days? We should- we could go get lunch? I-I have to work until tomorrow morning but-”
“It’s a busy weekend,” the man grumbles, doing a motion with his hands almost like he's patting himself down to make sure he has his wallet, the movements of someone making sure they're good to leave. “I won't have the time.”
Buck stands there, looking more wounded than any of the times he's been banged up on calls. “I- haven't seen you in- in like four years-”
“And who's fault is that?” His father laughs dismissively. “If you want to run off and throw your life away you can't complain about it later.”
“I-I didn't, I like what I- I have a job, I- I found…” Buck frowns, and Bobby worries for a moment he's going to cry out here in front of his father and colleagues and the beach goers of Santa Monica. He holds it together, though. “I like it here, and I like my job, and I'd like to tell you about it-”
“I won't have the time, Evan.” He doesn't even consider for a moment backing out of his obvious lie. “You can call next week if you want. Your mother will be glad to know you're in one piece.”
“Okay,” Buck says, shoulders sinking down and turning in. He goes from a 6’3” wall of muscle to a lost child right before Bobby’s eyes, hell of a magic trick. “Sorry,” Buck says, as Bobby does some math, works backwards a little. Fourteen stitches, definitely more recent than four years ago. He thinks about the laws of physics, or at least traffic, he’d break if he knew Robert was bleeding in an ocean somewhere in the world. “Sorry,” Buck says again — why, why should he be apologizing — and nods a few times. “I’ll- I’ll make sure to call.”
His father nods back. “We still work, so-”
“Yeah, after five, I know.”
“And your mother has book club on Tuesdays.”
“Okay.” Smaller, and smaller. Bobby remembers reading Alice in Wonderland to Brook, wonders how big Buck’s pool of tears is to shrink him so much. “I’ll just-” Buck clenches his fists, just for a moment, and then hides them in his pockets. “I’ll just try. If you’re busy you don’t have to pick up.”
Oh, God, give an inch and they’ll take a mile. Buck’s father looks visibly relieved at the offer of plausible deniability. “Alright.” He doesn’t move to hug his son, doesn’t even reach out for a handshake, staying a careful several feet away. “I’m sure you need to get back to your job,” he says, raising eyebrows in Bobby’s direction. It makes him bristle, he doesn’t want to be a forced coconspirator in judging Buck for something he hasn’t even done wrong. Buck wilts even further beside him. His father gives one final nod. “Goodbye, Evan.”
He’s already walking away by the time Buck says “Bye, Dad.”
And then they’re all just standing there. Hen and Chimney went off to the hospital, sure, but there’s still a handful of firefighters lingering around, either trying to make a lot of eye contact or no eye contact at all. Buck stares firmly at the ground. Bobby clears his throat.
“Alright, let's pack it up.” If they were operating under any other circumstance Bobby might compliment his crew for how quickly and quietly they get loaded into the trucks.
The ride back to the station is quiet, too, usual engine chit chat locked in everyone’s throats. Bobby’s pretty sure he sees Nichols subtly and somewhat frantically typing on his phone. Mostly, though, he watches Buck in the rearview. The kid is staring resolutely out the window, but Bobby would bet he’s not seeing a thing. His leg bounces on the seat, and Rodriguez doesn't even do the polite cut-it-out cough. Bobby wonders how many of Buck's stories he's overheard, if he's also now watching them tilt, shift, rearrange in his head. Dumb little boy stuff, skateboard-bike-motorcycle stunts, climbing up trees to fall out of them, all told with class clown energy, wasn't I stupid but wasn't it fun, wasn't it funny? Bobby got up to some shit when he was a kid, trailing after Charlie and taking any ill-advised dare the older kids tossed out to him, but he got hurt and he went home, his mom kissed his scrapes, even his dad would ruffle his hair and grab the first aid kit on his good days. Bobby looks at Buck looking out at nothing and tries to count the broken bones scattered between the big grins and his audience’s corresponding groans, tries to imagine Buck — all his silliness, all his sunshine — going home hurt to parents whose care comes with office hours.
When they pull into the station everyone flees the engine like there’d been a chemical spill, leaving Buck standing alone silhouetted against shiny scarlet paint. Bobby hesitates, one foot still up on the truck bed. He doesn’t want to overstep, but- he can’t stop thinking about how far away Buck’s father stood. The kid deserves someone to come closer. He only wished there was someone better than himself around to do it.
“Hey, kid-”
“I never knew what I did wrong.” Buck is frowning into middle distance, shoulders still tucked in around him. “I- I know I was stupid in- in high school, and college, but-” he looks right at Bobby, eyes wide, and he looks- oh, kid, come home. You’re hurting, come home, you’ll be taken care of, I got a first aid kid at least and I’ll learn to do better than that. “It was always like this- I-” Buck shrugs and here, finally, come the tears. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” Bobby says, and it's only two steps over to him, and he’s never even casually side hugged this kid before but Buck sinks right into his arms.
“You can’t know that-”
“I can.” Buck’s so tall. Bobby’s not sure the last time he hugged somebody taller than him. He wonders how tall his dad was, looming so large in memory but an unknown in actual imperial measurement. He wonders how tall Robert would’ve gotten. “You were a kid. You were their kid. There’s nothing you could have done that was so bad they shouldn’t have loved you anyway.”
Buck shudders against him, and his shoulder is getting wet, and the ambulance will be back soon and there’s firefighters milling about and, always, work to do.
But they can take a little time here. Bobby’ll bend it around, if he has to. The laws of traffic, the laws of physics. It startles him, scares him a little, but- he’d break them for Buck, too.
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tryingtimi · 6 months ago
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Hi there everyone, I decided that now I finally made a WIP intro for my current project, I might as well make a long overdue re-intro too.
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About me.
I’m Timi, a late 20s central european adult who tries to finish a book for the hundredth time. You can find me sharing bits of my projects here, as well as spreading my friends’ and other creators’ art of every kind. Occasionally ranting a little bit about life, current media or music obsession.
My intrests are very much revolve around fantasy, sci-fi, litfic, horror, romance and everything inbetween. Can’t be too specific because I enjoy a variety of genres, depending on my mood lol. My all time favourite books are the whole of the Stormlight Archives, the whole of the Green Bone Saga, Interview with The Vampire and Memoirs of a Geisha. Hope that helps (I know it doesn’t, I’m sorry.)
Other intrests. painting ∘ animation ∘ languages ∘ knitting ∘ martial arts ∘ dance ∘ swimming
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About my writing.
I tend to write what I enjoy comsuming, therefore every kind of fantasy with a pinch of romance and a handful of horror — be that any kind. Plus I sometimes tiptoe into sci-fi territory.
Current work.
PROJECT SASIN ⬑ urban fantasy. crime. romance.
wip intro ∘ wip tag ∘ 40k in 42 days challenge
Later sometimes I might expand the Sasin intro to something like the old ones I made, but I wanted to deliberately keep it lowkey for now. I also have three more projects shared on this blog, that I will not list because of space saving purposes. They are also in the backburner for now, as I try to concentrate solely on Sasin this year. However, there is a lot of content for them from last year if anyone's interested, so.
old wip intro | project Lonel | Metalsea series | project IQRUS
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Other blogs & events.
writeblr recs | writing advice | art blog | winter prompt event
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fandomfluffandfuck · 2 months ago
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Crumbs from whatever WIPS you have?? 🥺👉🏾👈🏾
Ask and you shall receive 😏
I don't currently have a name for the fic I'm working on--usually, title is the last fucking thing I do 💀💀--but it's a fun, drawn-out, sweaty scene with big sub Steve, orchestrated by dom Bucky, and tortured by a penis pump.
So...
“What was that, baby?”
The sound of his voice breaks the dam. Just like that. “Please,” he gasps, “please, please, please—”
“What’re you begging for?” Bucky grabs his jaw, “tell me. What do you want?”
“Put it on mee,” he whines.
“What,” Bucky pushes, literally and verbally, shoving their heaving, sweaty chests together, “what’m I putting on you?”
“The-the pump. Want it. Please? I want it!”
“Mmm, I don’t know,” he shoves his thigh up against him, making him grind tightly against it, “I don’t think you need any help down here, gorgeous.”
A cry leaves Steve, arching his back the best he can as droplets of sweat just start to roll down the indented line of his spine, “Buck!”
“Again,” Bucky softens, “just one more, Stevie, c’mon.”
“Please.”
In response, Bucky makes sure, excessively sure, that the pump cushion is in the right spot (because he’s an asshole like that), twisting it around the base of Steve’s dick until he gasps, eyes watery, then—and only then—he wipes his glistening hands, flesh and metal, off on a nearby towel, and finally fucking does it. Sliiiiiiding the clear tube of the pump down.
Steve can’t decide if he wants to watch the rest of it happen, he’s already cross-eyed from staring intensely down as Bucky teased the body of the pump onto him and off him so slowly. Does he want to know when it’s coming, or not?
He can’t decide. So, he looks, he doesn’t, he looks, he doesn’t he—
Bucky squeezes the hand pump with his metal fingers and palm, the plates in his prosthetic arm revving mechanically, making Steve’s dick twitch on its own. But then, nearly immediately, Steve feels the crashing, sweet, dull ache of his thick, hot blood being pulled into his cock. Oh, god. Steve’s brain swims—drowns—deeper in its pool of dopamine. He opens his mouth to moan when Bucky pumps again, squeezing like he’s using a grip strength trainer made for a normal man, not an enhanced one, unbothered as he makes sure the seal is good and, uh, fuckin' sealed, but rather than a moan, what comes out of Steve is a mortifying, whimpering cry of his lover's name, broken in the middle when his voice cracks.
Holy fuck.
The pump draws his blood into his dick without the mental shift of his arousal deepening—without his body doing it on his own, it makes it feel all the more rare and intense. It’s like lava is traveling through his body, being forcibly pulled into his sensitive cock.
“How’s that, Rogers? Does that make your big, handsome cock feel nice?” Bucky questions, knowing exactly how meanly his smooth, easy talk full of butch compliments contrasts with Steve’s current weak, stripped-down state of being. No matter how big and muscular this body is, post-serum, he’s vulnerable right now, rolled over to expose his belly.
“Nnngh,” Steve whines, giving his most coherent response.
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teamdilf · 2 months ago
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I'd love to know a little more about the Solavellan Time Travel AU from the WIP Ask Game!
This fic is going to be a long and bleak one! The basic premise is that, 20 years post-Veilguard, the Executors (who are the Forgotten Ones - at least according to the theory I'm going off of for this fic) have arrived in Thedas in full force, and Solas, realizing he is unlikely to escape them, prepares Iris to travel back to the moment of the breach at the Conclave as soon as he dies and the Veil falls.
Iris watches Solas fall to them and she swears her vengeance, uses an amulet based off of the one Dorian had, and travels back, arriving in her body at the moment of the breach, but with 30 years of knowledge/life experience. She's deeply, deeply traumatized - her husband was just killed in front of her shortly before all of this, and now she's encountering a Solas who is a stranger to her, but with the awareness of who he is/what he's planning/what his fate will be if she cannot stop the Forgotten Ones.
Here's a snippet:
Grief looks enough like defiance to those who do not wish to see their prisoner as an innocent, and so her silence accomplishes the same as it did her first time through, freeing her into Cassandra’s custody to hike through the mountains in search of Solas, Varric and the fade rift that will prove her usefulness to the fledgling inquisition.  While they trudge through fresh snow, she focuses on maintaining a mask of defiant disinterest, despite her stomach twisting with terror at the prospect of meeting Solas again. Meeting her Solas was an ordinary affair - the two of them were Elven apostates and instantly had common ground. That remains true, yet Solas does not know that, in another world, he had been her husband for 20 years and that she returned to the past to prevent his death. He cannot know - not right away, but when the time is right, she will reveal that she knows who he is, that there is a better path before him, and that if they work together, they may be able to stop the Executors before they arrive in Thedosian waters.   They do have a fresh commonality this time around: they’re both lying about their identities. Whether that will help or hinder her efforts to get to know Solas once more remains to be seen.  Solas is but an hour dead in her mind, having woken up with no memory of the explosion or her jaunt in the Fade this second time around, and she’s yet to weep for her husband. Her head swims, as if she’s looking at herself from a distance.  “You seem distracted,” Cassandra says after leaping between her and a demon, raising her shield to spare her from a heavy blow and finishing it with a swing of her sword. “My would-be executioner is forcing me to fight through a sea of demons. Would your head be clear in my circumstances?”  “It would not,” Cassandra acknowledges. “Your cooperation, however reluctant, does you credit. Know that much.” “I’m sure I’ll find that a great comfort when you snap my neck.” Cassandra frowns at her but trudges forward and she takes a moment to catch her breath; to force down the panic building. Your husband is dead yet you will see him in minutes, a perfect stranger. It won’t be him. He won’t have the scar over his right eye or the ones on his neck and the top of his head. He’ll be more distant, looking upon her as a science experiment and not as his wife. 
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thinkingotherwise · 4 months ago
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Hii!!
NPC series enjoyer here✨️
Hope you're having a good day💕
I saw that there're some npc fics in work (wish you a lot of inspiration for them), but i wanted to know if requests are open. Cus i just saw Hikueru from Natlan and oh boy, i would be lying if i said that guy is not almost exactly my type
So yeah👉👈
When I tell you that I have like 4 WIPs for Natlan NPCs, so doing one that I kinda wanted to (because I have an idea for Hikueru and Marokau) is more than fine. His VA has such a nice voice.
Hikueru x Scions of the Canopy! Adventurous! reader
Being from Scions of Canopy reader is a little adrenaline junkie, and can already swim
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You had visited the People of the Springs a few times, mainly because of the hot springs. You were curious about them and if their special qualities were just rumours or not. Each visit was a small escape, from your active life. A moment to unwind after performing any of the extreme sports that were a distinctive trait of the tribe you came from. You quickly discovered that the rumors were true - the waters were indeed magical, at least they seemed, they felt really great and helped you relax almost immediately.
During those visits, you met a certain person who caught your attention every time. You could easily say it was because of the pretty smile Hikueru sent in your direction. With each stop at the Springs tribe, you became a little closer, exchanging a few words and pleasantries.
Then came the day you decided to learn something new, and with so many visits to the southern tribe, you decided on surfing. Previously you saw people catching the waves and performing amazing tricks and it interested you and made you want to do that as well. So you sought out Mualani, knowing she was a skilled surfer but when you approached her and told her about your request and even offered to pay for the lessons, she only smiled widely. The happy expression confused you the moment she said she couldn't do it because she was busy, but she would point you to someone who would certainly help you. You thanked her and she told you where to go, not mentioning the name of the man but saying you would know who she meant as soon as you noticed him.
As soon as you came to the place Mualani mentioned your eyes stopped at a familiar figure of Hikueru. You weren't sure if you should curse or thank the girl for directing you in here. Nevertheless, you stepped closer to him and greeted him with a smile. You told him all about the request and how Mualani sent you to him making him freeze in place at the mention of her name but soon he nodded with a smile. "So when would you like to meet?" He asked his hand moving to scratch at his cheek. "Whenever you want, I can make time." You replied before adding quickly. "Just tell me how much I should pay you for the lessons." His mouth opened in shock before he frantically shook his head. "No, it's alright. You don't need to-" "Nonsense." You cut him off and patted his biceps. "If you don't tell me, I'll ask around how much others take." You proposed to him but he couldn't really haggle.
Your touch made his head blank so he nodded, agreeing to whatever you wanted. He just couldn't believe he got the opportunity to spend more time with you. And little did you know Mualani did it because Hikueru talked with her and Marokau about you and how he'd like to hang out with you to get to know you even better, and she had the perfect occasion to make that happen.
Your first lesson started soon enough and your eyes stuck to him. You couldn’t help but admire him, his athletic build, his slightly wet hair that framed his face perfectly, and his passionate voice as he talked you through the basics of surfing. He showed you how to prepare the board and helped you wax it before you moved fully into the water. In the beginning, you listened to his every word, committing them to your memory, but when he sat on his surfboard, the sun glistening on his dark skin, almost nothing made it into your head. Your mind full of how nice he looked and how great his muscles showed as he carefully pointed their position and what you should be doing. You tried to concentrate on the lesson, but his presence was intoxicating. The way he animatedly described the waves, his enthusiasm infectious, made it difficult to keep your thoughts from wandering.
"Did you get it?" He asked looking at you as he jumped from his board into the water and came closer to where you were sitting and floating. You blinked your eyes twice before shaking your head a little as your eyes refocused on him. "Umm. wha- yes?" You replied hesitantly and when his eyebrow rose at your words you added. "But you can tell me once more." He snorted at your eager expression and moved closer to you in the water, his hip brushing your thigh as you sat on your surfboard. "Then come on." He said and moved your board into shallow water.
This time while talking he tapped your legs and arms showing you how you should move and what position to take. His hands brushed against your body correcting your stance and making your skin scalding hot whenever he touched it. He smiled at you every time you fell down into the water but still came back to stand on the surfboard. Your stubbornness to perfect each move was admirable, making his laughter echo, and encouraging you to continue. The both of you took in every minute you could and enlengthen the lesson to be in each others company.
After an exhausting session of practicing paddling and balancing, you felt the familiar soreness in your muscles. Hikueru noticed your fatigue and suggested a visit to a nearby hot spring. You accepted, grateful for the chance to unwind. Of course, you made sure that he was beside you, and you spent the rest of the evening talking your joined laughter filling the spring.
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ladykailitha · 5 months ago
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The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 5
Hello, hello, hello! And we have completed the set this week! All for stories getting new and beautiful chapters. Though, with WIP Wednesdays spilling into Thursdays, I might change up my posting schedule a bit to accommodate the influx of asks.
But we'll see.
Here we see Steve dealing with a wild Karen or Linda as they were called in the 80s (at least out where I lived). Yep! We've always had a name for busybodies. It's just changed with the times.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4
~
Steve had to throw out the rest of his food, it having gone cold while he was on the phone with Dustin and his mom.
He sighed in annoyance, but it couldn’t be helped. He could hear his mother now, just screaming about all the wasted food and all the starving children in Africa who would have appreciated that meal he just wasted.
Thankfully she was in whatever fresh hell Dad had dragged her off to after he threw him out.
He decided the best thing to do after all that was to go to the gym and run on a treadmill for awhile and just turn off all those dark thoughts swirling in his brain. So he got dressed in cropped swim team t-shirt and a pair of old basketball shorts. He pulled out his favorite sneakers and grabbed his room key.
He got some string and tied it to his wrist so he wouldn’t lose it while he was exercising and not be able to get back into his room. He wasn’t even sure the hotel knew who it was that was actually staying in the room with everything under Eddie’s name.
He made his way to the gym, but as he went through the hotel he noticed people staring at him and not in the fun way.
The women would sneer and the men would look down their noses at him. He tugged on the crop top, a little insecure now. By the time he got the gym he as ready to turn tail and run back to his hotel room.
But he stopped at the glass door to their very state of the art gym. The people inside were all dressed similarly to what he was wearing. He looked back into the hallway and thought about all the other patrons that looked down at him.
Steve squared his shoulders. He was used to this kind of bullshit. He had got from his parents, their friends, and hell even his own friends over the years every time he tried coloring outside of the lines.
Well fuck them. He had every right to be here, same as them. He yanked open the door and got situated on the treadmill nearest to the door, set it to a low speed and began to walk.
Once he got into the rhythm he switched up to a slow jog, then a full on run. He slowed it back down and counted out his heart rate.
“I think you have the wrong time, honey,” this sickeningly sweet voice said from behind him. “The help are only allowed use of the facilities after the guests have gone to bed.”
Steve paused the treadmill and turned around to face her. She was blond woman covered head to toe in pink! Pink tracksuit, pink tennis shoes, pink headband, even pink sunglasses. Though why she needed those, he didn’t know. It wasn’t that bright in here.
“You think I’m staff?” he asked incredulously. “What on earth gave you that idea?”
She looked up and down his body and sniffed in disdain. “The high school phys. ed attire for a start, darling. Then there’s the...” she waved at his body. His very tanned, muscular, lean body. “All of you.”
Steve put his hands on his hips and raised an annoyed eyebrow. “Look, honey,” his emphasis on the last word, throwing it back at her, “you’re probably not from here. But my parents are very rich and you are just some biddy who thinks bullying people is acceptable. Which it really isn’t, no matter what your tax bracket is.” He looked her up and down. “Which judging from the fact your track suit is from two seasons ago? Theirs is bigger than yours.”
The woman sputtered and fumed but Steve just hopped of the treadmill and got a water bottle from the courtesy fridge, downing quickly. He threw it in the trash and without a word or even so much as a backward glance, he strolled out of the gym with his head held high.
God, that felt good.
Of course the only reason he knew it was two years out of date was because his mom bought one then, wore it once, and then threw it in the back of her closet never to be seen again. Which, he thought with a huff, was probably what she wanted to do with him, if he was honest.
He got up to his hotel room and untied the key from his wrist to unlock his door. He stepped into the cool sanctuary of the black marble and brass fittings. It wasn’t a style he would pick out for himself, but there was something about the black and brass that reminded him of Eddie in a way. Dark and bright at the same time.
Steve spotted the package right off the bat this time. He walked over to the black gift bag and took over to the sofa. He opened it to find a box of chocolate raspberry truffles, a small jewelry box, and a nice black wallet.
He opened the chocolates first and took a bite. The tart of the raspberry hit his tongue first and then richness of dark chocolate. Fuck they were good. Steve forced himself to just eat the one. Otherwise the whole box would be gone in an instant.
He pulled out the wallet next. It had cash as well as shiny black credit card in his name. Well, he supposed since Eddie was loading cash on it, it was more like a debit card, but still it was black. Not even his parents had a black card. He could spend whatever he wanted and Eddie would pay for it.
Not that he would. God no. But Christ, he could, he absolutely could. He ran his fingers over the shiny surface in awe. Then he counted the money and he closed his eyes. There was about a thousand dollars in there. Five crisp one hundreds, ten crisp twenties, twenty tens, and twenty fives. The wallet could barely close it was so stuffed.
Steve could not spend the money and Eddie would never know. He could barely use the card, but Eddie would know that and be concerned why he wasn’t getting everything he needed and send more money. Plus, Steve had a pretty good idea what the smaller bills were for anyway. Tipping. The wait staff, housekeeping. Things that were polite to do when other people were doing everything for you.
It also meant that if he wanted to he could go out a buy booze if he ever just wanted a beer. Because it was within the bounds of Eddie’s rule. Don’t use the card to buy booze, no mention of his cash, so...
Steve set the wallet aside and made sure to remember to call down to the front desk for the combination to the room safe. He knew there was one. Especially in a place like this. He pulled out the little white jewelry box and opened it. Inside set in gold was a little bird pendant on a gold chain. Steve held it up to the light and marveled at it as it spun, glinting in the light.
He put the necklace on and continued to marvel at it on his neck. It was beautiful. He set the rest of it aside and bounced up. He flopped on the bed and picked up the phone, dialing Eddie’s number.
“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice answered.
“Oh!” Steve cried. He never expected someone else to answer the phone. “It’s Steve, I’m calling for Eddie.”
“Oh, shit!” the voice said. “I thought it was my phone that was ringing. Sorry, man. I’ll get him for you.”
A moment later Eddie was on the line. “Little Canary, if you only call me when I send you pretty gifts, I’m going to have to up my game and send them more often.”
“Oh!” Steve cried again. “Sorry about that. Everything has been happening all at once. I was going to call you when I got back from the gym, but I saw your gift first.”
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Eddie soothed. “I was only mostly teasing.”
Steve laughed and shook his head. “But everything was amazing by the way. Those chocolates were to die for and I really loved the necklace.”
“No mention of the wallet I see,” Eddie said with a chuckle. “I can stop sending you money if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, no,” Steve said in a rush, “I am a little uncomfortable with it, but more because I don’t have a safe place to keep it right now then because you gave it to me. I appreciate the money to be able to start tipping the staff.”
“That’s a relief,” Eddie said. “I was worried I might be overstepping with the cash. I’m glad it all shook out okay. So tell me about the gym. You’ll never catch me in one and I’m curious.”
Steve told him all about the trip down and the bitch on top of how great the gym was.
“That bitch,” Eddie agreed when he was done. “She was jealous on how good you look, baby.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” Steve agreed. “The way she turned purple when I told her her outfit was out of fashion was just the icing on the cake.”
Eddie hummed and went on to talk about how the last two days were back to back concerts and how tired he was.
“You’re taking care of yourself, too?” Steve asked. “You want to take care of me, but who’s taking care of you?”
Eddie’s smile could be felt through the line when he said, “My band. There’s Gareth, who answered the phone. He’s our drummer, then there’s Jeff, he’s rhythm guitar and lead vocals–”
“What’s rhythm guitar?” Steve asked. “Is it a different instrument?”
“No,” Eddie explained, “but I can see why you might think that.” Then he went on to explain what it meant and why Eddie was lead guitar and backup vocals. “I can sing fine, but Jeff? He’s got a real talent for it. Gives us a unique edge. And then the last and certainly not the least is Brian who’s on bass.”
“First base?” Steve teased.
“What’s that, sweetheart?”
Steve snickered. “Who’s on first? That old timey comedy sketch about baseball?”
He could hear Eddie snap his fingers. “That’s right. Wrong kind of bass though. And it is a separate instrument, but not to be confused with a upright bass. Which are those weird, big violin looking thingies.” He went on to describe the differences between a bass and a guitar.
“Oh it’s like a violin and a viola,” Steve said, “they may look similar but they aren’t the same.”
Then it was Eddie’s turn to be confused, so Steve explained.
“See, little Canary,” Eddie said after he was done. “You’re plenty smart. And sadly I have to go. But I want you to call me more often, okay?”
“Aye, aye!” Steve said with a jaunty salute.
“You menace,” Eddie huffed fondly. “Bye, Stevie.”
“Bye, Eddie.”
After they hung up Steve picked up the pendant and looked at it again. A little canary. Well then.
He got up and decided that it was time for lunch and maybe pay his cousin a little visit. He needed news. News only Monty could provide.
~
Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21
Tag List: CLOSED
1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji
5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt
9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec
10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 1 year ago
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Fit for a King - WIP - “Sit” (Dual POV)
Fit for a King - Masterlist
a/n: this got kinda long, progressing their relationship
(nsfw, almost pure smut, some secrecy, overstimulation)
Everybody's getting on the truck after we stow away all the stuff in the other one. I'm the last one to jump in and 9 pairs of eyes are looking at me (the rest of their faces are covered by the masks) as I'm left standing. "Are you kidding me?"
Nikto is the first one to chime in. "I don't think they factored in the median size of a KorTac operator when saying that these trucks can carry 10." Some of them chuckle. "And I'm supposed to stand now?", I ask them, pulling up an eyebrow. There's a little scuffle as they rearrange when the man right next to me catches my wrist and says: "Sit."
The scuffling stops as the remaining 8 pairs of eyes land on the one offering me his lap to sit on. Even sitting down he's almost at my eye level. Aksel clears his throat and says: "We made some space on the bench." Between him and Nikto was now a hand’s breath of bench unoccupied. It isn't even enough space to fit a small child.
König scoffs and pulls me into him, so I land on his thigh. "Gonna talk to Horangi.", he says, so everybody hears it. "It's unacceptable not to have enough room for every operator." I put my hands on my own lap as he stabilizes my back with his hand, for the others not to see.
Nobody says anything else and I just try to ignore the situation. And how it makes me feel. How he makes me feel.
Last night when I was this close to him, two of his fingers were inside me and I was seeing stars. Now I can feel his thigh against the very same parts and I will my thoughts to steer away from the path they're heading down now. (Also ignoring the fact that he stole my fucking panties.)
______________________________________________________________
She's sitting on my lap.
She. Is. Sitting. On. My. Lap. Again.
The options were limited. I wasn't gonna let her sit between Aksel and Nikto, those asswipes. The gaze I shot them when they offered her the small spot between them to squeeze herself into, lesser men would've cried. I saw the reactions on their faces and I realized: I need to calm down. I gotta pump the breaks. Like the truck is doing right now and her ass gets pressed into me, onto my thigh. I grit my teeth as I feel the plump curve of her booty against me.
I said I wasn't gonna do anything, that we couldn't do anything. Then I had to go and finger her yesterday because I thought, oh, it's only for her pleasure, to give her comfort, make her feel a bit better. And then I had to taste her because I couldn't help myself. And then I wanked myself to sleep with the same hand that has been inside her.
Jetzt haben wir den Salat1.
And now what. Now she's sitting on my thigh, looking like a personified angel in tactical gear, even with the mask on. Her faint scent makes me want to eat her up, throw her down on the floor, tear her clothes off and fuck her, right here and now. Give the others something to really turn their eyes away from. I can feel my blood starting to boil as I look around the truck, every one of my mates looking away as soon as I meet their gaze on us. I'm getting annoyed and we still have some way to go.
Suddenly I feel a hand on my knee and another pair of eyes on me. I meet her eyes as she leans down a bit whispering: "Everything okay?" I can't form any words that's why I only nod. She hesitates for a few moments but accepts my short answer and looks to the front again. Her hand stays on my knee though, softly stroking ever so often, until I feel how it calms me down having her touch me. Herrgott2, I'm so fucking touch starved.
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I'm in my room reading the dossiers for the next mission. My head is already swimming from all the information and I'm already tired. When we got home from the mission and I could finally hop off König's lap (Schoß, that's what they call it in german), everybody scrammed in an instant, something better to do than to linger around.
I went for a shower, worked out and then I went to the shooting range, to drop some more dummies. When I was content with the shots, I got back to the room. The two operators with whom I share it are still out on another mission. And now I'm studying the dossiers. And I catch my thoughts steering towards König again. I even thought about looking into my old stuff from school when I learned german. More than about german vocabulary I thought about the last few days and how it confused the shit out of me, the way he is behaving with me.
On cue or talk about the devil if you will, he comes into the room without even knocking. I turn around on my chair to look at him while he closes the door and just stands there for a moment.
His tall figure dwarfs the small room, the tactical gear is gone and he's wearing a simple black sweatpants and t-shirt. The helmet is gone, but the hood is still on. Yesterday I only saw his hands, today I can see that there are tattoos on both his forearms. Mostly black and grey shapes, I can't make out what they are in this lighting.
"What are you doing here?", I ask him which seems to pull him from his frozen state. With three quick strides he's right in front me and drops to his knees. "I need another taste of you.", he says looking me into my eyes and the lust burning in them makes it unmistakable how he means that.
"I-" His brazen offer has me at a loss for words and when I don't finish the sentence, his hand trails up my thigh. "Please, it's been driving me crazy all day, I need to feel you on my lips." My chin is making its way to the floor as I look at the man in his hood, who had been domineering before, comforting yet unapologetic yesterday, and now is begging me on his knees. "Are you begging me to let you eat me out?", I ask him for clarification. He nods. "Yes." – "Okay.", I say and he doesn't need more than that. His hands are pulling at my pants and I help to get them of, reminded of what we did not that many hours ago. He drops the pants on the floor and doesn't waste any seconds to get to my panties. They're gone and I can anticipate the moment when he finally looks at me. His eyes are glued to the spot between my legs as I open them and drop my knees to the side. I see his brows furrow and his gaze flicks up. "Don't say anything.", I tell him. I shaved when I was under shower after coming home. A little treacherous sign. Of expecting to maybe or maybe not get laid. At least that's one possible interpretation.
I can't see the full expression on his face, but just his eyes speak volumes. He doesn't say anything, just chuckles and then his fingers grip my thighs and his head dives down between my legs. There is no hesitation, no teasing, no soft lead into it. He doesn't waste a single moment and eats me out like he was starving before.
It's his mouth on me, his lips pressing against me, his tongue pushing inside me and circling my clit. My hips buck up when he does this for the first time and all I get is a soft grunt and his hands gripping my thighs even tighter, so I can't escape a single one of his touches. It's everything all at once and I'm losing my mind fast. Soft whines and moans escape my throat and as he sucks on my clit for the first time, I come. Holy shit.
"Again.", he growls, not stopping any of the movements as I still feel the waves of pleasure crash over me, and my sounds get louder and louder. Before I can even register what he's doing, he pushes a piece of fabric between my lips. My panties! "Sssh, Prinzessin3, we don't want the others to hear.", he says, his voice hoarse, his mouth not really leaving my pussy, so the huffs of breath are tickling me as he speaks.
The moans and mewls are muffled by the fabric now, but it doesn't make the sound in this room less erotic. König's kisses, the hungry licks and laps, my muffled cries, the way it sounds when his knees shuffle over the floor as he tries to get even closer. I look down at him and the sight in front of me paired with his restless licking almost makes me come again. His head is framed between my naked thighs, his hood is spilling over my stomach, obscuring the view on what he's doing, his big hands are gripping the curve of my ass moving my hips to his rhythm. Suddenly he looks up and meets my gaze as I feel his tongue dipping into my wetness again and again. I can only feel and imagine what it must look like when his tongue dips down into me. And then he fucking winks at me. I come on his tongue hard, harder than the first time, and if it hadn't been for his arms holding me up, I would have toppled off the chair.
By now I'm also glad that he stuffed my mouth with the panties because of the sounds I'm making. Someone walking by would've surely heard me. Hot tears are running down my face as I whine about how it is too much. "Please, Liebes4, only one more, I wanna be soaked in your juices.", he tells me as one of his hands finds my pussy and one of his fingers sinks into me. He chuckles, the soft sound sending shivers down my spine. "Mmh, so wet again.", he recalls his comment from when he first pushed his fingers into me.
I’m so overstimulated already, but he is not letting up. Stretching me with an added digit, finding a rhythm with his mouth and his fingers that is driving me crazy. His fingers curl inside me, pressing into the most sensitive spot inside me with every move of his hand. His tongue is mercilessly licking over my clit, the pressure being too much and not enough at the same time.
And he is right. I’m so wet, I can feel it on my inner thighs. His fingers in my pussy, his grunts and moans, the flick of his tongue, my muffled cries fill the room once again and as I see stars form in front of my eyes, the almost porny background noises keep stoking my arousal. My hips move restlessly, searching for the friction that finally sends me over edge again. I think I almost pass out, screaming incoherent ramblings into my panties, and I’m sure I’m dropping his name somewhere during my sensual high. Good thing that that is damped by fabric in my mouth, because saying his name while I actually came, out loud and clear… that would have made it all too real. Closer than it already was.
I’m shaking from all the overstimulation and orgasms as he finally lets go of me and I slump down on the chair again. He gets up, just standing there, towering over me, looking down at me. I can’t say anything, just breathe to regain some kind of composure again. He leans down a bit, sending another violent shake over me in anticipation, but he only pulls my panties from my mouth and the relief on my jaw makes me sigh.
The sight of him is sinful, godly and perverted at the same time. His muscles are taut, no doubt he's as turned on as I am. His boner is tenting the sweatpants, the outline clear against the fabric even in the dim light. His hood is stained from my arousal, wet patches from the eyes down. His chest is heaving as he takes in big breaths. His hands are formed into fists, the knuckles white like he needs to restrain himself.
It would be an easy thing to reach for his pants, free his dick and I'm almost a 100% sure he would fuck me. But the same thought that seemingly has him just standing there, looking at me, also halts me, his words “We can’t do that” in the back of my head. Without another word he turns around and leaves. The door falls shut and I’m spent and alone again. Only when I get dressed again, I realise that my panties are missing. Again. God damn it, König.
_____________________________________________________________
Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Verdammt. Ah, des is ja wieder super gelaufen5. I tell myself sarcastically in my head as I basically run down the hallway. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking! At least not with my brain. I can feel the weight of my boner between my legs with every step, and my balls are aching because they're so fucking blue. It almost physically hurts.
The way she was looking up at me, sitting on the lousy chair, her chest moving up and down, making her titties bounce just the slightest bit, her nipples hard against the fabric of her shirt. Her knees dropped to the side, her legs spread open, her pussy wet and ready for my cock. The wetness on her thighs glistening in the low light. The mental picture is clear in my mind, like if I still had her right in front of me.
I wanna be between her legs again. Her thighs hugging my face, my mouth pressed to her lips, my nose nudging against her clit with every eager lick. Fuck, I can still smell her. The way she tastes, smells, moves when she comes on my tongue is engrained in my brain now. After licking her taste off my fingers, it was hard not to think about her; now it's downright impossible.
I groan and the echo being thrown back at me and reminds me that I’m currently making my way down a very public hallway, sporting the hard-on of the century. Great. I take the next door right, heading to my quarters, when I almost run into someone. I curse under my breath. But it’s only Horangi. He wants to greet me, when he sees my state and just bursts into laughter. “Don’t. Fucking. Say. Anything. If you want to live to see tomorrow.”, I say between clenched teeth. Half-joking because the Korean is probably one of the few people who could actually take me. “My guy, what happened to you?”, he asks with a broad grin on his face. “Don’t fucking ask.”, I bark at him. He’s narrowing his eyes as he inspects my hood. ”What are those stains on your hood?” I freeze for a second, then I pull the hood down. Horangi is one of the few people who know how I look underneath. I groan as I see the wet patches on the fabric, they’re from… her. “Himmel, Herrgott nochmal6. Fucking hell.”, I curse in two languages as I try to push past Horangi. I see him shaking his head in the corner of my eyes as I pass him and I hear him saying something in Korean. I practically sprint to my room, shutting the door behind me with a bang and sliding down to the floor (which is a long way to go for a guy like me).
My hand dives down into my sweatpants, gripping my dick, freeing it, groaning when my fingers close around it and I just imagine that it is her touching me. My other hand lets go off my hood and pulls her panties from my pocket that are soaked in her spit. I wrap them around my base and move them along my length as I start to jerk myself off. I just need the release. Or else I’m gonna go back and take her. The pictures start to form in my mind all on their own. How it’s not my own hand that’s jerking me off, but hers. How she would kneel in front of me, taking me in her mouth, and I’d come all over her face. How I would pick her up and fuck her against the wall, burying myself deep inside her. How she would ride me, with me pulling her down on my dick. My own personal imagination porn only stops when I come all over my hands and her panties, staining my sweatpants and leaving little puddles of cum on my stomach. I sigh and curse again. I do a haphazard job at cleaning myself up, take my clothes off and just drop onto my bed, letting the post orgasm haze take me out.
Jetzt haben wir den Salat: literally 'Now we have the salad', a german way of saying: 'look at the mess we're in'
Herrgott: 'dear god'
Prinzessin: 'princess'
Liebes: 'lovely'
Verdammt. Ah, des is ja wieder super gelaufen.: 'Damn, that went well... NOT.'
Himmel, Herrgott nochmal.: 'for heaven's sake'
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