#waiting on a few authors for their submissions to make a second list

[warcats-cat]

IT'S READING LIST TIME!!

At least, the first reading list. Hopefully there will be more. ☺️

You can find more details about the rally here! Please join us and share some more fanfics you love from smaller creators//people who need some extra love!

House of Tarot Cards @lickoutyourbrains // FlowerMeat on Ao3

Remus Crowley has fallen victim to a legion of demons, his body and soul now possessed. Though all six residents of the lonely household on Lorre way are well practiced in occult magics, only Patton Stoker had experience with exorcisms. It’s such a shame that past experience had all but destroyed his belief that he can help.

To Rebuild A Home; @a-valourous-choice

After a horrific event rips his family apart, Patton decides to move himself and his children back to his hometown. His youngest son Thomas adjusts quickly but his eldest Virgil, harboring resentment towards his father and full of self loathing, has a much more difficult time. Despite their close proximity, Patton and Virgil have never been more distant from each other but perhaps with some help from friends - both old and new - the Sanders boys will learn that recovery can be a family affair. And just maybe they're not as alone in their grief as they believe.

Starving; LadyoftheWoods (Ao3)

Patton was dying.

Not that anyone else knew it, of course, no, he didn’t want to be a hassle! The others had to deal with his drama enough as it is. They didn’t need to know.

They didn’t know.

It was a wonder, that no one else seemed able to see it, not even Janus, though part of him hoped against hope that someone would.

The other part of him prayed to god they didn’t.

He didn’t know anything anymore, much less how to fix this. How to stop it.

He just knew he ached.

His chest, his heart, ached, like it was cracking in two. Maybe it was, figures of speech sometimes got taken a little too literally by Thomas's head, who’s to say heartbreak wasn’t one of them?

Not him. He’d done enough talking, when he didn’t even know what he was saying, to begin with.

If We're Still Single In An Hour; @fangirltothefullest

Roman and Patton are probably the two most oblivious people in the entire town, or at least that's what everyone around them thinks. The two have been pining after each other for an eternity, but neither of them have realized. At Virgil and Logan's wedding, the two forget to bring the cake for the after party and have to go fetch it. Fate Herself takes one look at these oblivious gays and decides to take matters into her own hands. After all, they're made for each other, and they're the only ones that haven't figured that out yet.

Or: The Royality Shenanigans fic based off of a tumblr text post where they're both in love and deserve each other so badly but are too silly to see it.

Where the Lovestruck Bleeds; @fangirltothefullest

Mr. Remus Princeton, soul of a dark poet and heart shielded with years of sorrow, had lost so much in his common man's life. What little he had, he gave so that his brother could flourish. But for the first time in his life, Remus wanted something that society said he must never have: Deep dark eyes and hair as black as the depths of the sea and uncommonly long, Mr. Logan Blackthorne enthralled him with his mystery and allure the moment he laid eyes upon him at the gathering he was attending for the sake of this brother. How could a man of such standing see him in a sea of better prospects and willingly pursue him?

Mr. Roman Princeton on the other hand, could light up a room just by flouncing into it. He was a delight and all manner of young ladies swooned for him and pined after the artist's affections. But his world was turned asunder when the notable Monsieur Janus D'Ambroise took a shine to his talents. Surely his life and Remus' were about to change drastically and all for the better. They were moving up in the world and right into the mystery and delights of romance and decadence he had long since dreamed of!

Why then, was Remus so disinclined to follow?

Taking Flight; @practically-an-x-man

(Non-TS but so good please read it!!!!)

Fandom: Fablehaven

American kestrel: Falco sparverius, also known as the sparrow hawk, grasshopper hawk, or killy hawk. A species of small, carnivorous falcon native to the Americas. Kestrels are incredibly effective and aggressive hunters despite their small size. They are largely solitary birds, though they form strong pair-bonds and often mate for life. Their widely varied diet and adaptable nesting conditions make them well-suited to a variety of habitats. But this story is not about kestrels.

My Stuff Because I'm Running It Solo And I Can Do What I Want:

The Long Road Home

Ship: LAMP Some say childhood friendships don't last. Others say they're forever. For Patton Bunker, they're life-saving. Virgil Wraith is happy enough to leave his past behind him; left forgotten like the scared little orphan he used to be. He's happy now; he has a steady job (sort of), two loving boyfriends, and he gets to travel as much as he wants. Being a consort to Prince Roman has good perks. But he remembers the injustices he saw. And when he sees his past haunting him from the horizon, he doesn't hesitate. This time, he can stop the pain.

Talking, Whether You Want To Or Not

Ship: Loceit Roman and Remus have plans to help their friends finally talk about their feelings. Remus does not follow the plan.

Crumbling

Being a good friend is hard. Its scary. It takes a lot of work. Patton often felt himself trying desperately to balance the line between doting dad-friend and clingy nuisance. It didn't help that there was an extra voice in his head these days, pointing out all the ways he had already failed. And then he finally pushed another friend too far. His smile was starting to shatter at the edges.

[ninelives2]

Happy September! Fanfiction Challenge, Fundraising!

We start September with two big announcements. Firstly, below you will find the details of our first fanfic challenge in several years - we hope you will be inspired to take part.

The second announcement is that, while we have been incredibly fortunate to have had enough funding to keep us going through the Caryl dark years, sadly funds are now running low. 

Our last funding drive was in 2021, and the money raised then and since has paid for upkeep costs through 2024!

We are incredibly grateful to those who have donated to the site in the past, and those who have set up a regular donation - you are seen and appreciated, friends! 

However, In order to continue Nine Lives as an active site, we need to ask for your help to boost the funds and keep the site going.

We want to keep being the Caryl safe haven you love and need through the next few years, so if you can help contribute to the running costs of the site, please click the donate button on the home page.

Thank you in advance for any donation, however small. 

FANFIC CHALLENGE - REUNIONS 

Reunited and it feels so good… After a long hiatus - enough time to take a slow boat to France and back - the Nine Lives Fanfic Challenge has returned!

To celebrate Carol’s return to the Walking Dead Universe, and the premiere of season two of TWD: Daryl Dixon The Book of Carol, we invite you to participate in the challenge by writing a fic on the theme of “Reunions”.

Just as we are reuniting with challenges, many fans are being reunited with The Walking Dead - all because we know this fall we will be witnessing another epic Caryl reunion, as Carol travels to France to find Daryl.

Your fic can be your imagining of the upcoming French reunion, or it can be any other kind of reunion. Maybe AU Caryl are attending their high school reunion? Maybe you want to expand on an already canon reunion between Carol and Daryl with new insight? Maybe pirate Caryl have a reunion on the high seas? 

Whatever kind of “Reunion” takes your fancy, here are the rules if you wish to take part in the challenge:

Challenge Dates - Submission date is September 28th; Posting date is September 29th (fics will be posted ahead of the Sunday evening premiere, to give you something to read as you wait.)

Open to - Fan Fiction (Caryl)

The Prompt - Write a story that deals with the theme of Reunion. Please remember, however, as this is a Caryl archive, the story must feature both Carol and Daryl prominently.

The Deadline - All submissions must be turned in by midnight on September 28th, Pacific Standard Time (PST).

Send a PM to tarascarol, subversivegrrl, or ikkleosu on the Nine Lives site that you want to enter the challenge. Even if you’re not sure you’ll have anything ready in time - let us know you’re planning on it. *YOU MUST DO THIS TO BE INCLUDED*

WRITE! Stories must be at least 100 words.

Multiple entries are allowed (and so veryyyy welcome)!

Do not upload it yet!

Submission Day is Saturday, September 28th – post your fic. It will not appear on the archive, but will enter our validation queue. Make sure you submit it under the Nine Lives Challenge category! Just like in challenges past, we will be suspending automatic validation for that day for all authors who enter the challenge. (This is one of the main reasons why you need to let an admin know you’ll be participating.)

Publication Day is Sunday, September 29th – We will post the master list and all of the challenges entries so everything shows up at once.

Any challenge fics posted before September 28th will be deleted. IF FOR SOME REASON you are unable to post on the 28th, please send a PM to one of the challenge mods - we will work with you.

Any questions? Post here or privately to one of the admins. Happy ficcing!

[hdcandyheartsfest]

H/D Candy Hearts Fest 2023: Info & FAQ

banner by the talented @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm

Welcome to the second year of the H/D Candy Hearts Fest! For every day in February, we will provide a prompt meant to inspire lighthearted, love-filled works with Drarry as the main pairing. This is a very lowkey fest, so feel free to use however many prompts on whatever day you want! Just post your work on Tumblr (tag us so we can share) or the AO3 collection (hdcandyheartsfest2023) between February 1st and February 28th! Take a look at our prompt list here 💕

Guidelines

The overall theme of this fest is lighthearted works. They can be the sweetest fluff, gentle humor, feel like a warm blanket, or anything in between! It’s perfectly fine if there are some moments of angst, but we’re all about happy endings.

Submissions must have Draco/Harry as the main pairing! However, feel free to change them up if you'd like (trans Drarry, anyone?) Any side pairings are welcome.

Participate as much or as little as you’d like, and feel free to use prompts in any order on any day in February. Want to do every prompt? Great! Want to do just one? No problem, we can’t wait to see what you’ve made!

Feel free to combine the Candy Hearts prompts with other fests/challenges running in February (such as @kinkuary)

This fest is open to all fanworks– fics, fanart, podfics, fic binding, playlists, moodboards, etc. Please make sure to get author permission if it’s a derivative work! 

There is no minimum or maximum word count for fics.

Mature and explicit works are welcome, just please be over 18 and tag appropriately on all platforms!

How to Participate

💌 Pick a prompt that you want to create for (you can do as many or as few as you’d like).

💌 Make something!

💌 Then, post anytime between February 1st and February 28th to Tumblr, Ao3, or both.

💌 On Tumblr, follow @hdcandyheartsfest and use the tag #hdcandyheartsfest2023 on your works. We will reblog your work here as we’re tagged!

FAQ

What is the point of this fest?

A lowkey daily challenge meant to inspire lighthearted and sweet Drarry works during February.

Do I have to create a work for every single prompt/day?

No! This is like pick ��n mix at a candy store– do however many prompts you’d like on any day you’d like, as long as it’s posted in February. 

Are mature/explicit works allowed?

Absolutely! We just ask that you are over 18 and they be tagged appropriately on any platform that you post your work to.

What about poly ships?

We ask that the main pairing be Draco/Harry only, but background ships can be as varied as you like!

As usual, we’d like to make it very clear that this fest is very pro-trans people and anti-JKR 🏳️‍⚧️

Any questions? Just ask us!

- Your mod team @softlystarstruck, @lou-isfake & @m0srael❤️

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Hi!! If it's not too much trouble, could you please create a post on how to publish review articles in journals?? Specifically about deciding the topic and the process of applying to the journal? I and many others would surely appreciate it!

No trouble at all (just takes me a few days to write up a reply)!

I'm going to answer the second part of your question first, applying to journals. (The following information is regardless of whether its a review article or not.) First things first, of course, is deciding the journal you want to submit your article to. This is a factor of a number of things, and is ultimately up to the author(s). Two of the main considerations are the journal’s scope, and its impact factor. Scope is the big thing, because if your article doesn’t fit the journal’s scope, they won’t publish it, no matter how good it is. Every journal should have a scope/description on their website; check that out and see if it fits for you.

Impact factor isn’t mandatory, but it’s an indication of how many people might see your article, which, depending on the relevance of your research, may be significant. (There are other metrics, like the h-index; I’m just using ‘impact factor’ as a catch-all here.) Other factors you can consider are time to publish (how long do they take to review it) and quality or reputation of the journal.

Okay, so, you’ve figured out where you’re publishing. What’s the process look like?

Write the article. An obvious step, but I figured I’d throw it in there for this addendum: it helps to determine which journal you’re going to submit to before you start writing, so your formatting and citation style doesn’t have to be edited later. Journals typically have a guide for authors you can follow.

Create an account on the journal’s website and submit the journal. It’s really as easy as that. You’ll need to have all the mandatory requirements in the guide for authors, which includes the text of the article (obviously), the list of authors, the abstract, the title, etc. Often you’ll need an acknowledgements or conflict of interest statement, or sometimes a letter to the editor describing your article. Some submission systems will want the figures as separate uploads, and so on. It really depends on the journal.

Wait.

Wait some more.

If your article passes the first step - i.e., an editor looks it over and decides it fits the scope of the journal, they’ll pass it on to the reviewers.

More waiting.

Step seven is where we reach a branching path in our flow chart. There are three options here: 1) your article is accepted! Congratulations!; 2) the reviewers have some questions they want clarified, or have suggested some edits for you to make. Talk things over with your fellow authors, make the changes you feel are right (remember: reviewers can be wrong, even if they usually know what they’re talking about), and submit the changes. From here, you’ll usually go to option 1, but sometimes you’ll hit option 3) your article has been rejected.

If your article is rejected, it doesn’t mean you need to go back to the drawing board! Feel free to resubmit it to a different journal and begin the process all over again. You can even make edits before doing so based on the comments from the reviewers who issued the rejection. Just don’t submit to two journals at once!

But back to your question: how do you pick a topic for a review article? That’s one I don’t think I can answer as well, but there are a couple criteria you can consider:

Has a similar review article already been written? Search the literature to see if it’s already been done.

Choose a topic you’re familiar with, something that aligns with your area of research that you feel confident talking about.

Do you have something new to say? I’m not talking about new data or research - it’s a review article - but you want your review article to draw conclusions or offer new insights about the current state of the research, instead of just repeating what everyone else has already done.

This resource goes into more in-depth about review articles.

If anyone has any more information about writing review articles specifically, please share! And if anyone wants me to clarify anything or expand on any points, I’d be happy to do so. Hope that answered your question!

[belletristicarts]

Ghostwriting the Wrong Way (?)

I began ghostwriting romance novels in the early days of the pandemic, when I was stuck at home and waiting for my own YA novel to make it through the traditional publishing submission process (still waiting, three revisions later!). It's been fun, but with no professional contacts I started my ghost journey on Upwork, where the pay is peanuts. It may be better for blog writers, copywriters, nonfiction writers, and memoir writers, but ghost writing for fiction pays very poorly. Luckily, I write well, and fast, and enjoy what I do. I love telling a good story. But when I'm struggling to get $0.02/word, it can be a bear. Still, it keeps our self-publishing/author services business afloat. So anyway, I just finished a contract and the client loved the novel I wrote for her, but when I started looking through the listings for another gig, it became obvious what was going on. All of these "authors" on Upwork are posting jobs for ghostwriters with the exact same specs, even at nearly the same price. I believe they're taking a course in how to launch a publishing business, throw ghostwritten novels up on Amazon under their own names, and make a fortune. I don't resent them for that: everyone is trying to make it somehow. Fine. But it occurred to me that with the experience I have at writing and editing romance novels, I can do this for myself and not for two cents a word. I wrote out character sketches and a plot outline this morning, sat down and wrote the first 4000 words, and I'm on my way to a finished MS by the end of the week. The formula that they're using is this: ~ Plot a series of three novels ~ First novel: 10,000 words ~ Second novel: 30,000 words ~ Third Novel: 30-50,000 words ~ Each novel follows the format: Chp. 1: Her POV/Chp. 2: His POV/Chp. 3: Her POV/etc. with each chapter written in alternating first person from the point of view of either the hero or heroine of the novel ~ Pay a total of $1200-$1600 for the series ~ Pay a cover illustrator a few hundred dollars to design the covers for the series ~ MAYBE get an editor/proofreader to read through (although I believe most of these people are doing that themselves) ~ Hire a formatter for $49 to set up the book ~ Post it for sale on Amazon

And repeat. I won't post the name of this particular training, but here's a screenshot of their pricing:

Pretty overpriced, if you ask me. But this is just one of MANY people offering similar courses.None of the ghostwriters are making a decent living for doing this very exacting writing/development/editing work. Maybe it buys groceries. But at two cents a word/15,000 words per week/$300 pay minus the Upwork cut, the pay is pathetic. I am going out on my own, and see if I can sell my intellectual property for myself, while waiting for my trad pub career to start. Writing is tough, I won't lie. But maybe someday it will be my name on the books I write and not someone who paid me two cents a word.

[silver-tongued-bby]

Overcast ~ A Keeper Tale

Pairing: Dark!Mob!Loki x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dark!Loki fic hence it explores dark themes including controlling behaviour, a potentially abusive relationship, degradation, patronising behaviour, a dominant + submissive relationship, mentions of violence and implied murder, biting, spanking, edging, toys (a vibrator), fingering, dirty talk, oral play, oral sex (m receiving), hard sex, overstimulation, blood (a teensy bit!), and anal play. Please do not read if you are sensitive to any of the themes mentioned above.

Words: ~3,700

Summary: Loki has been busy lately- with what, you could only guess. When he finally comes home, he decides to take his sour mood out on you.

This story is another follow up to my first ever one-shot, Keeper, but you can proceed without reading the original story!

Author's Note: I'm doing my best to post regularly on here- recently inspiration has struck so I'm going with it!! Hope you guys like the latest addition to this unofficial series... I wanted to explore a little more dark!Loki after the last tale. I hope you enjoy!!

Thank you as always for reading. Likes, comments, and reblogs mean more than you know 🖤🖤🖤🖤

~~~

The snow was just starting to fall. All of New York was laid out before you, the pretty white flakes beginning to dim the vibrant city.

You shifted, moving the pillow under you to relive the pressure on your elbows. You were lying on your front, the plush rug underneath you warm as you blinked back down to your book.

You’d recently decided to go through the classics, making your way down the lengthy list on the website you found. You started reading Rebecca last night after finding a copy in Loki’s library. It was early afternoon and you were just about halfway through the novel. You couldn’t put it down, almost angry that no one had told you to read it before.

The story had you enthralled, but a little jumpy. Loki had been dealing with something, or more likely someone, his schedule keeping him from the house for long hours. You’d wake in the night to find him pulling you close to his chest, though come morning he’d be gone without a trace. He had bumped up the security around the condo as well, one of his security detail always somewhere in the house. You could feel the tension rolling off of them, as if they were expecting an intruder at any moment. You tried to start up conversation with them to settle your own nerves, offering them a cup of coffee or tea, though nothing proved fruitful. They’d either refuse, or take what you’d offered with a grunt then disappear back to the surveillance room to review footage.

When you tried to leave to get groceries, one of them had stood in front of the door, refusing to let you pass. You ended up defeatedly settling on writing them a list for what you needed. You grew worried, but tried your best not to focus on it, remembering the contingency plans Loki had created, and the training he’d enforced.

A few hours after sunset you finally got up to make yourself a quick dinner. Pouring a second glass of wine, you found your book in the living room. Flipping it open, you read as you walked to the master bath, turning on the water. You sat on the edge of the tub, falling back into the story as you waited for the bath to fill.

Movement out of the corner of your eye made you jolt. “Fuck!” You shouted, seeing Loki leaning against the doorway, a glass of brown liquor in the hand at his side. He didn’t make a move, his eyes down on the crystal tumbler as he swirled it.

“Loki. I’m sorry,” you held a hand to your chest, taking a breath. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

He raised his head, tilting it to the side, considering you. The bags around his eyes were dark and pronounced, the top buttons of his shirt undone to expose his chest, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. The clear blue-green you’d become so accustomed to was overcast.

“Are you okay?” You stood, walking to him.

He took a sip of his whiskey, and you took in the dried blood covering his knuckles.

“Shit,” you whispered. “What happened?” You searched his gaze, reaching out for his hand.

Before you could make contact his eyes narrowed in on the book at the side of the bath. “‘Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again,’” his voice was rough, a cruel smirk on his lips. “Onto gothic horror now, are we darling?” His patronising tone sent ice through your veins.

You nervously bit your lip, nodding lightly. You’d seen him this way once before- the day he had to “dispose” of someone close. He had locked himself away in his study for hours, then fucked you so hard you had to soak in epsom salts for the next week. You shivered, your thighs lightly pressing together at the memory.

He took a step forward. You found yourself backing up. “Has it really been so dull around here, little girl?” He downed the rest of the liquor and placed the glass down on the countertop harshly.

You swallowed, taking another step back, your leg hitting the marble of the tub. “No,” you said, your eyes wide.

“Oh? So you’ve enjoyed your time without me?”

“No- I’ve missed you of course, but I didn’t want to bug you, you’ve been so busy,” you babbled, trailing off as he closed in.

“Yes, pet. I’ve been busy. Would you like to know what I’ve been up to?” He taunted you with his words, the darkness in his expression making your heart race.

You simply stared at him with wide eyes, afraid to say the wrong thing.

He stepped forward, his chest brushing against yours. He gently trailed a bloodied finger against the skin of your throat. “I’ve been hunting down the people who want to kill me. The people who want to take everything I have, including you. They’d fucking love to get their hands on you, darling. Know what I’ve done with them?”

You swallowed dryly, your heart racing.

“I took them down. Beat them until they were bloodied and begged for their loathsome little lives. One by one.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, reaching past you to hold it under the tap of the bath briefly before rubbing it on his knuckles. “No one fucks with my business. No one fucks with me,” he threw the handkerchief onto the floor. “And no one gets to lay a fucking hand on you. You are mine.” He was furious, dark brows drawn low over his stormy gaze, his jaw pronounced.

You were watching him carefully. His sharp words had made you flinch.

In the blink of an eye he was kissing you, one hand holding your cheek as he devoured you, the other harshly gripping your hip. He bit your bottom lip, his kiss demanding, forcing a whimper from you. He nudged your legs apart, holding you close as he brought his thigh between yours, flexing the muscle so you felt a wave of arousal run through you. He did it again, then again, as if he were trying to replicate his state within you. You were holding on to him tightly, your heart aching for him whilst your arousal built.

Eventually he pulled away, the two of you panting, breathing in each other. You opened your eyes to find him watching you, the rage still present.

“Take off your clothes and lie on the bed. Face down.”

Not wanting to risk a punishment, you did as you were told, quickly undressing and laying down on the soft cotton bedspread. Your forehead pressed into the back of your hand, hiding your face from the room.

You could hear him shut off the tap, followed by his shoes clicking on the marble floor, softening once they’d hit the carpet. You imagined him toeing off his shoes, hearing a swish of fabric as he moved about the bedroom, likely undressing. You tried to calm the swift beating of your heart, a mixture of excitement and fear coursing through you.

Eventually you felt him sit beside you, his warm hand coming to slide against your bare bottom, squeezing a little as he caressed you. Just as you’d melted into his touch you felt a stinging slap to your ass, wincing into your folded hands as he repeated the action.

You felt him bend over you, his breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Who do you belong to?” He spoke, his hand roughly kneading your ass cheek.

You licked your lips. “You, Loki. I belong to you.”

“That’s right. You’re fucking mine,” he ground out before slapping your ass three more times, much harder than before. “I want you raw. I want to mark you so anyone who sees you knows.”

You whimpered, your arousal deepening with his words, the pain mingling with it intoxicatingly. He’d given you spankings before, but never like this. He was precise as he marked you up, hitting you five times before moving to the other cheek.

“I want you to count for me. Can you handle that, toy?”

You swallowed. “Y-yes,” your voice sounded small in your own ears. It made you press your legs together further.

The first slap shocked you, the stinging of it making you hiss. “One,” you breathed, your fingertips pressing into the mattress below.

“Louder,” he said, hitting you twice in quick succession.

“Two, three,” you spoke up, your muscles flexing momentarily in an attempt to subside the pain.

“Keep counting.” He doled out seven more slaps, leaving you twitching.

Your breath was shaky, your heart in your throat as he got up from the bed. You heard him open a drawer, knowing exactly whine one, his footfalls coming back to you as he sat on the bed.

“Spread those legs.”

You did as you were told, flinching when you felt something cold come in contact with your skin. If you had to guess, it was the massager he’d used on you in the past, the head nudged firmly between your folds.

“Don’t you dare cum without permission,” the icy warning in his tone made you shiver. He flicked the switch, the strong vibrations making you gasp. He ran his fingers lightly over the heated skin of your bottom and you whimpered. “And don’t fucking move.”

You felt him leave the bed, the buzzing sound of the toy filling the room, preventing you from positioning him in the room.

It didn’t take long until you were gasping, willing yourself not to push back against the vibrator to feel more of it against your clit.

You couldn’t be certain that he’d stayed in the room, though you felt his eyes on you. Your suspicion was confirmed a moment later when you felt his fingers ghost down your spine. You squirmed in an attempt to hold your growing arousal at bay. Your attempts were thwarted when he angled the vibrator further upwards so it hit your clit, a muffled moan coming from you. He held it there, the fingers of his other hands trailing in the slick gathered around your folds before he thrust two into you, a hiss coming from your lips. You could feel him brushing against your G-spot, the combined sensation with the vibrator making your eyes roll back in pleasure. Your hips moved a little to allow him better access and he removed his fingers to sharply slap your ass. You cried out, the skin hot and sensitive.

“What did I tell you?” His voice held a sharp edge that made you wince.

“Not to move.”

“You need to stop thinking with your cunt, little girl.”

You trembled at his words. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Get up.” He pulled the vibrator from between your legs, turning it off with a click.

You held yourself up on shaky arms, moving to sit on the corner of the bed, hissing when your bottom touched the cool cotton sheets. You turned to see him, still fully dressed through his blazer and tie were slung over the back of the armchair in the corner. His sleeves were rolled up and he was pacing at the foot of the bed, his jaw pronounced. Somehow he looked more threatening than before, his eyes dark as he flexed his fingers. You dropped your gaze when he looked to you.

He stopped pacing, coming to stand before you. He trailed his fingers down your jaw, coming to stop just beneath your chin to tilt your face up to his. You looked to him with wide eyes, your legs pressing together at the near feral expression he wore.

“Get down on your knees.” He backed up, arms crossed as he watched you scramble into position. You winced at the feel of your heels against your sensitive ass but the pain quickly dissipated. “Hands on your thighs.” Again you followed his orders, and he stepped forward, reaching to gently touch your bottom lip with his fingertips.

“Open.” You parted your lips and he thrust two fingers inside your mouth, your tongue swirling around them, tasting yourself. He pressed down on your tongue, pushing his fingers deeper, lightly fucking your mouth with them. He’d done this before, typically while he fucked you, training your mouth to take his cock deeper. His brows furrowed at you gagged a little around his hand, a string of drool dropping to your breasts. Your thighs clenched together as you looked up at him, his free hand falling to his belt.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth though you kept it open, knowing better than to close it until he told you to. He let out a strained breath, grinding his teeth as he looked down at you. He undid his belt, then unzipped his trousers to pull himself out. Without a word he dropped his cock on your tongue, his hand cupping the back of your head to hold you steady while he thrust into your mouth, fucking your throat.

He let out a sound akin to a growl as you took him deep, breathing through your nose calmly to stop yourself from gagging. You kept your eyes on his as he set a steady rhythm, your eyes watering a little as you swallowed his cock. You so desperately wished you could touch yourself, the carnal expression on his face making your cunt clench around nothing. Your nipples felt stiff, your fingers aching to touch them.

After a few minutes he pulled out and turned to retrieve the vibrator from behind him. His hand reached out to grasp at your throat lightly, guiding you up from your spot on the floor. He moved you over to your vanity, shifting behind you to press you down by the back of your neck. Your hands were played out on its surface, your eyes catching yourself in the mirror before you. You looked like you’d already been fucked, your lips a little puffy. Your gaze found his, his dark stare making your cunt throb.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he said, his eyes flickering down briefly. “Is your messy little cunt ready to take me?”

You whimpered. “Yes,” you let out a shaky breath.

“Say it.”

“My messy cunt is ready to take your big cock.”

His eyes gleamed as he thrust into you, the sudden intrusion of his cock forcing the air from your lungs. Not allowing you a moment to adjust, he started fucking you hard as your hands scrambled to hold yourself upright. The angle he was rutting into you at had him deep, the sound of his skin on yours echoing in the room. The little bottles on your vanity clattered as they fell over and rolled onto the floor as he pounded into you.

He looked terrifying as he fucked you, his expression dark, jaw clenched, though his handsome features still shone through. You were watching him, your brows drawn together, mouth hanging open as you started to whimper from his cock brushing up against your cervix. He looked at you before his eyes flickered to your ass, his hands kneading the skin. You hissed, lowering yourself closer to the vanity’s surface, as if that’d relieve the pain.

He bent over you, his breath heavy against your ear. “Fucking take what I give you, little girl.” His tongue roughly traced the shell of your ear and you moaned, angling your hips out against him, ignoring the sting of your inflamed skin against his trousers.

“Yes,” you breathed, “I will, I will- thank you, fuck.”

His teeth dug into the skin of your neck and you whined, his lips and tongue soothing the area before he sucked it harshly. He slid his hand down your thigh, guiding your leg up onto the vanity to give him better access.

“That’s my good fucking whore.” He sucked a bruise onto your shoulder.

“Yours,” you moaned. “I’m yours.”

“Exactly. And I’ll use your sloppy cunt whenever I please.”

You shuddered against him. “Yes! Fuck, I’m close, I’m close.”

“Then fucking cum.” He said harshly before biting into another spot on your shoulder, this time hard enough to break the skin. You’d already let go, screaming as you came on his cock, the pain bringing your pleasure to new heights. You wanted him to mark you up. You wanted him to use you absolutely. You were his.

“Thank you! Fuck,” you whined, your back arching, “thank you.” You twitched as your orgasm subsided. Your face was pressed to the rich wood tabletop as he continued to fuck you, your cunt still clenching around him. You raised your head when you heard the telltale sound of the vibrator, finding his eyes downcast as he angled to press it to your clit.

“Fuck!” You cried out, feeling it on the highest setting. “Loki- fuck, it’s too much- I can’t,” your head was spinning.

“I don’t give a fuck. I want you to squeeze this cock over and over like the toy you are. Fucking hold it there for me.”

You groaned, shuddering as you took the vibrator from his fingers, holding it to your clit as you quickly approached another orgasm. Without warning you came again, moaning pitifully.

His fingers dug into your hip as he picked up the pace. You kept the vibrator pressed to you as your hips stuttered against him, a trickle of drool falling from the corner of your mouth. “That’s it, little girl. Let me ruin you.”

You spasmed against him, your head empty. He reached down to move the vibrator in the slightest and you hissed, the new angle building you towards another orgasm. When you came a few moments later, you felt the wet release slide down your thighs, your moan mingling with a sob as you shook on his cock.

“You’ve made such a fucking mess,” he emphasised each word with a particularly harsh thrust.

You would have apologised, though his relentless fucking had seemingly removed your power of speech.

“Look at you,” he took the vibrator from your numb fingers, moving your hands behind your back before harshly pulling you up. He held you tightly, still fucking you harshly as you stared dumbly at your own reflection. You looked fucking ruined, a trickle of blood dripping up your neck from the bite on your shoulder. His bite. Your cunt twitched around him.

“My fucking whore. I want you to cum one more time. Squeeze me so I can fill you up like the toy you are.”

You whimpered, meeting his eyes. He offered you no sympathy, but let go of your arms. You fell forward but he slid a hand around your waist in time to keep you upright. His thrusts slowed as you shakily moved to hold the table. You groaned when you felt him press the vibrator to your asshole, the sensation making your walls flutter around him as he sped up once more.

“Take it. Take it and fucking cum. Be my good little whore.” He bit your other shoulder before sucking the skin hard. He pulled away to hold his face beside yours, darkly watching you in the reflection, pressing the toy harder against you. He was still fully dressed, a strand of hair in his face as he moved behind you.

Your breath was caught in your throat as you quickly neared the edge once more.

“I’m not going to ask again.” He angled his hips up further, the tip of his cock pressing into your cervix. “Cum.”

You curled forward as your orgasm overtook you, your form shaking as you felt him twitch inside of you, one last thrust shoving him as deep as he came.

The sounds of your laboured breath filled the room, the condo silent. A full minute passed before you felt him move behind you, pressing a kiss to the base of your neck. He slid his hands around your waist, holding you firmly as he slid out of you. You shivered as you felt his cum drip down your thigh, his hand guiding your other foot back down on the floor.

“Can you stand?” He asked, turning you in his arms. You took in the clear eyes before you, the storm finally passed.

You gave him a weak smile and nodded, taking a step only to immediately feel your leg crumble beneath you. He hadn’t let you go, his grip on your waist steady.

“Here,” he moved beside you, holding you firmly so you could lean on him. He started walking you both towards the bathroom.

He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, throwing it around your shoulders before gently sitting you on the side of the tub. He twisted on the tap, testing the forgotten half-filled tub for temperature. He came beside you, bringing a warm washcloth to dab at your shoulder. You saw the bite mark in your peripheral vision, your thighs pressing together at the throb between your legs. You watched him as he cleaned the cut, returning the washcloth to the counter before pouring in some infused bath soak. Tub filled, he turned off the tap then carefully lowered you in. You hissed at the sensation of your raw bottom touching the marble, but thankfully it didn't last. He watched you carefully, bringing you a cool glass of water one you were settled before undressing himself.

He got in behind you, and gently washed you, careful to avoid your cut. You closed your eyes, enjoying the little kisses he peppered to your skin in between his whispers of praise. Finished, he leant back, pulling you along with him to settle against his chest.

You sighed contentedly, enjoying the moment. You felt him strain then shift a little behind you.

“Ah. Now I see why you were so skittish when I came in.” His voice reverberated through your back as he spoke.

You frowned, opening your eyes to see his hand holding your book open at the side of the tup.

“Do you want me to read it to you?” He leant forward, pressing a gentle kiss just behind your ear. “Things are about to get good.”

You grinned. “Please.”

~~~

End Note: Phew. Am I crazy, or is there's something really freaking hot about Loki standing in a doorway, watching you while he's pissed? Just me?

Also oh god being read to in the bath sounds like heaven (especially right now).

I do hope you are all staying as well as you can. Sending lots of love. Thank you as always for reading 🖤🖤🖤

[eatyourchancletas]

SUMMARY |  y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

[chapter index] [playlist] [previous chapter]

AUTHOR’S NOTE | we’re back! sorry for the long break, hopefully we can get into the flow of things! monnie’s already started chapter 5 off amazingly too :p written by both of us this time (mainly edited by monnie)! please leave feedback, like, reblog, whatever you can to let us know whether you enjoyed it or not!  (re-edited because dongwoo and changsik were switched up)

WORD COUNT | 2.4k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe​  if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

y/n was usually called outstanding, hard-working, smart. but in reality, he was an idiot when he was outside the workforce. 

being a workaholic meant showing your skills, growing them, improving them, and practicing them constantly. sometimes it seemed to be all he knew— it’s what all the people around him saw. 

yet again, outside of it he’s quite a gullible man; which brings him to his current situation… 

“looking for something?” 

he looked away from the bandages he was previously examining to come face to face with a man that looked around his age. “not really, just restocking my clinic. or—trying to find things to restock it with.” the man nods, glancing around suspiciously, although y/n didn’t didn’t seem to take notice of this particular action. 

“this pharmacy is pretty small, but it has lots of good supplies… lots of hidden gems. want me to show you where i get my tools?”

“oh,” y/n blinked in surprise, “you’re in the medical field?”

the man made eye contact with him, managing a convincing smile. “yeah, there’s a clinic down the road from here, about fifteen minutes by foot, this is the nearest pharmacy, so we stock up from here most of the time. i work there as an assistant.”

y/n nodded, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “wow, then please! show me what you suggest.”

at the approval, the man nodded, “name’s changsik, by the way. what do you work as? i’m assuming you’re also in the medical field.”

they walked along the aisle of the cough syrups, ointments, and the few other medicines to turn and make their way to the exit door. y/n furrowed his brows, about to ask why they were exiting until changsik made another turn, walking towards the staff room. 

“your assumption is correct, i’m a surgeon…” he replied belatedly, trailing off as he stepped foot inside the room. his eyes trailed on the shelves full of unopened boxes, more prescription pills, and—bingo! the supplies he’d written down on his list. 

for a split second, the memory of san handing it to him flashes across his mind, blinking it away as he turned to changsik. “wait, how are you able to access this?”

“i’m a regular.” he glanced across at him, looking past the window. “and also the perks of having a pharmaceutical license,” a hefty laugh left his mouth, “took some convincing though.” 

“huh,” y/n squatted down, inspecting a box that was on the floor, “i guess that makes sense.”

“just put what you need in a box and take it out. i’ll just say you’re helping me take it back.” changsik smiled, watching y/n nod and do so.

after a few minutes, y/n finished and announced he was ready to check out. changsik’s eyes met one of the cctv cameras before settling on y/n. 

“alright, let’s go check out.” 

as they walked toward the front, they reached the hallway that led to the exit. just as y/n was going to walk past, toward the checkout counter, a hand forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. he looked behind him, in a startled manner, thinking changsik had just forgotten something. however, a deeper fear struck when changsik’s hand moved to clench at the back of his collar. 

“don’t make a sound.”

the second the cold blade touched the skin of y/n’s neck, the surgeon knew to stay quiet. there was a burning in his throat as he struggled to swallow, scared to trigger any abrupt movement. his frantic mind jumbled about, words of scolding placed toward himself and the situation while trying to get a grip. he thought of using the in-ear to alert jongho, but it would risk exposure of the communication device: in any case… he’d be dead by then.

“what is taking him so long?” jongho grunted, tapping his foot in impatience. it’d already been about 10 minutes since y/n entered the store—it shouldn’t take that long for a surgieron to find equipment that’s of medicinal standard!

tapping his in-ear and calling out the doctor’s name, he got no response. placing his face mask on, he rushed into the store, beckoning the cashier. “have you seen a man, about 6’3” with h/c hair?”

the cashier stared at him with a shocked look, “yes, but he went back toward the restrooms. is he dangerous?”

jongho shook his head before running toward the back of the store. he shoved against the restroom door, shouting out the older’s name as he threw open each stall door. finally admitting the fact that the older had disappeared, he tapped his in-ear once more, calling out for anyone.

“jongho, what’s going on?” hongjoong had intercepted the connection, hearing jongho’s worried voice.

the bodyguard had no time to register the primal fear that would settle itself in his bones once faced with the leader, “it’s y/n, hyung. he ran away.” 

jongho returned to the headquarters after scoping out the area once more and had just entered through the front door when he was met with the sight of the whole group. 

hongjoong was staring at him with his jaw clenched and an almost empty whiskey glass settled in his lax hand. jongho had never seen a look so severe in hongjoong’s eyes—he’d never messed up this bad. and apparently, the leader wasn’t the only one emotionally affected by his mistake, because before hongjoong could even physically express his own anger, san had snatched the glass from his hand and launched it at jongho, missing his head by less than an inch.

everyone was shocked at his silent outburst, san even going as far to ignore the immense pain in his abdomen and on his shoulder, but hongjoong simply sent the younger a look, causing him to cower back in the slightest. jongho, however, was enraged at what had just happened. what gave san, who had no superiority over him, the right to do that?

“what the fuck was that?” he had stormed over to the boy, grabbing his shirt with both fists. san didn’t back down, sticking his jaw out toward the youngest.

“how could you lose y/n?”

“i was told no matter what to avoid cameras, so i stayed outside! i didn’t exactly think the fucker would have the balls to run away!” 

everyone watched the two, eyeing when to step in and pull them apart. but hongjoong let them run their mouths. the longer someone talks, the more something is revealed. what he was looking to be revealed, he didn’t know; but something would come up.

san pushed back against jongho, “y/n hyung wouldn’t run away. he’d never do that!” 

‘oh,’ hongjoong perked in interest.

the younger scoffed, “what makes you so sure?”

san’s next words came as a bit of a shock, leaving the others with silent questions, “he promised he’d come back.”

bingo!

an awkward silence filled the room as they all stared, speechless at how hopelessly fond their brother had become for their hostage. as much as some of them hated to admit it, y/n was only a hostage to them at the end of the day. and for san to fall into a reversal stockholm syndrome of sorts was nothing short of  a disappointment. however, that couldn’t be the main focus, y/n was missing and they didn’t know how strong his resolve would be in the event of torturing.

“run us back on what happened, will you?” hongjoong told jongho, trying to get a clear picture on what went down because the first thing they needed to know was why y/n was taken, much less, who took him. was it by the same person who’d been running their mouths in the streets? 

and right in the middle of his explanation, an alarm went off on yeosang’s phone; it was a message. the others kept talking, figuring yeosang could handle whatever message he’d received. 

it was when he promptly stood up that all attention had been placed on him. 

“it’s him! it’s dongwoo!”

a soft whimper sounded as y/n was thrown to the ground, hands bound and eyes blinded by some piece of cloth.

“boss,” y/n’s kidnapper spoke in a submissive wave, causing y/n to assume the guy had straightened his spine and was saluting him in some way.

a moment later, a gruff voice broke through the eerie silence in the room, “and who is this?” his voice wasn’t angered or bewildered at all, and that’s what scared y/n. he sounded intrigued; like even he wasn’t expecting to be a part of this situation.

“someone with connections to ateez— saw that bodyguard walking around with him.” 

the other man hummed, “the bodyguard didn’t follow you, did he?”

“no, no. i found them by the pharmacy; i know the area pretty well because i do the runs for sowon— i knew the camera blindspots!” his abductor seemed to be a bit on the simpler side when it came to this “boss” of his, y/n concluded. this was a completely different personality than when he was being abducted at the scene…

“good job. and you know what, changsik-ah,” his voice seemed to be getting more intrigued, y/n’s heart beating even faster in response, “since you bought in such a valuable hostage, i’ll let you have the honors of obtaining information from him.”

y/n felt the air beside him shift, changsik bowing a full 90 degrees at his boss’s blessing, “thank you!”

a sickeningly hearty laugh resonated and the creaking of a chair sounded before the boss’s next words seemed to be the final straw for y/n’s pounding heart.

“i want him alive.” 

“he better be alive,” san growled at jongho.

“we might get to him alive if you two would quit bickering. we’re wasting time because of you two, so shut it and sit down!” hongjoong had had enough of the two. he knew it was a sensitive time for san and jongho, different reasons for both, of course, but they would only get nowhere if they weren’t level-headed.

the two boys bowed their heads at their leader, san still sending a side-eyed glare at the younger before sitting down in his chair. 

it’d been two days since y/n was kidnapped and they still hadn’t been able to come up with a plan to get y/n back. 

wooyoung tried to trace where the text message came from within the first minute it was received, but surprise, surprise! it was a burner phone— so back to square one; checking all of the cctv footage in the area and trying to spot a suspect that wasn’t even visible from the first frame. 

the cameras in the pharmacy showed only y/n, the pharmacist, clerk, and four other customers. of those four, only one person never entered through the front door. and within those 48 hours, he’d managed to single out a vehicle that had arrived in the frame of one of the street cams showing the alleyway behind the pharmacy, and left the same way not even 5 minutes later. it was a suspicious vehicle too; white van, no windows in the back, and paper license plates. the paper plates hinted that they were most likely changed recently or are changed frequently.

and so after hours of having to witness his best friend be so uncharacteristically frantic and down, wooyoung, unfortunately, decided to do what he thought was smartest—save y/n himself to make his best friend happy again.

his intentions may have been well, but in stories like these, doesn’t something always go wrong?

“help me set the table guys,” seonghwa cleared his throat, hand on his hip as he stirred the soup on the stove. the steam from the boiling liquid sent another cloud to his tired face, a sheen of sweat and condensation forming.

“i really don’t understand why we are acting like we have the time to set a table and eat home cooked meals when we don’t!” san exasperated, pacing around the dining room. 

mingi gave a sympathetic smile, patting him on the back before going to help seonghwa. 

while mingi was more on the understanding side of san’s worries, jongho disagreed, “how exactly do you expect us to find him if we don’t take care of ourselves?”

“all i’m saying is food and sleep shouldn’t be this consistently on your minds when we’re all in this situation!”

jongho scoffed, finding the utmost absurdities in san’s words, “why are you acting like he’s so important? he doesn’t know anything about us or our weaknesses— for fuck’s sake, it’s not like we can’t just get another doc—”

a fist had flown toward jongho’s cheek, cutting off his words, before san’s thrashing body was being pulled back by mingi and yeosang.

“go to hell choi jongho!” san screamed, trying to force his way through the barrier the two had made with their bodies. the boy could feel his stitches tearing as he fought, but he didn’t care. jongho had been a bitch since the very first moment y/n was around, and for what reason?

“cut it out, san!” yeosang hollered, voice brute as he pushed against the boy.

“no, let me at him. he wants to keep being a little shit, i’ll show him shitty!”

“stop it! you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

san didn’t stop trying to break the barrier, focusing on getting to jongho and the other’s words, “notice what?”

“wooyoung’s missing,” yeosang began, san whipping his head toward him and trying to disagree, but yeosang was having none of it, “and you haven’t done anything but antagonize everyone here for not doing their jobs at your pace!”

“oh, excuse me for trying to be as quick as possible in finding him!”

“yeah, and who ever said quick was the efficient route to go? we’re dealing with people we know nothing about, but they seem to know a little too much about us, no? so stop getting on everyone’s asses and—”

“shut the hell up! please!” seonghwa had slammed his hands down on the table, screaming at the top of his lungs. every person in the room had immediately gone silent, words left on the tips of their tongues in a desperate attempt to fly about.

“you’re all going to shut it, sit down, and eat this meal like the civilized people we are and come up with a plan to get y/n back as safely as possible,” he gave a quick glare at everyone, blowing a puff of air at the lock of hair that had settled over his eyelids.

“am i clear?”

"yes, sir."

[its-me-im-coraline]

NSFW Alphabet // Thomas Raggi

words // 1161

warnings // smut

pairing // Thomas Raggi x Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. ok i was going to post an actual fic today but something came up so I did not finish it but I had these already done soooo. yeah.

request // yes in a reblog

summary // self explanatory

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Thomas is utterly soft regarding aftercare. He will give you back rubs and little massages when he has been dominant. But if you are the dominant one he is full on fucked out mode and he needs to be taken care of. He will be shy to say this at first but after the first few times you have sex and you see that he is exhausted from what went down you’ll kind of force him to sit down and for you to take care of him. He will insist on taking care of you.

“Here’s your water, baby,” he almost whispers when he approaches you.

His eyes are droopy, half closed as he barely stands awake. His hair is messy, and there’s a flush on his cheeks from all the action.

“Thommy, are you alright? Should I be the one to take care of you?” Your words seem to have shaken him up, as if he is ashamed of needing aftercare.

“No, no, no! I am fine!”

“Puppy, you aren’t. Come on, come here,” you prompt, the man missing not one second to jump into your arms, “it’s ok to not be able to give me aftercare, baby. You deserve it just as much.”

The man simply sighed on your shoulder, eyes resting closed as he fell asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part of himself is most likely his hands. The man plays the guitar, he’s quite proud of what he can do with his fingers, thus why it’s his favorite part.

Now, on you, I see him being a thigh guy like Damiano. He’d give his life to simply feel your thighs crush his head. Wow

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he’s kind of shy about it when you guys are intimate, but only because he is generally sub. He will be asking for permission and all, beg to cum in you or on your stomach.

“Ah, ah, please - can-can I cum? Can I cum on your stomach?” His voice is weavering, shaky with pleasure as he can’t control himself any longer. It was torture to even ask and wait for your answer but he knew you’d stop all together if he did not.

“Go ahead baby, cum on my stomach- agh yes, so beautifully”

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s fairly experienced, def had his fair share of sexual partners but he is not clueless that’s for sure

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I’d say he loves you riding him. Any position where you ride him is perfect in his head. He loves it when you are facing him and he can see your face but also he can feel your thighs any time he pleases

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I feel like he is generally pretty goofy in bed. He will crack a joke or two in the process of making comments about you.

“oh yes baby, ride that dick like a cowboy” or something like that.

He will even have casual conversation with you while you’re fucking, like, “where do you want to eat after?”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He does not really shave but he trims the hair a bit. Kind of the mindset of Ethan. Like he does not care too much but he’d rather you choke on his dick rather than his hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Can be very romantic if he wants to. There are def instances where he will surprise you with a nice dinner and then take you to the bedroom, with some low lighting, light music to get you in the mood and full on making love to you

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off to photos of you when he is away and in the mood. If he is with you he does not find a reason to do it. You’re literally next to him and up to no good

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He is overall submissive, with like chokers on, he’d take a spanking here and there but it was not his favorite thing to do.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He looooves receiving oral from you. If you ask him, you are the most skilled he ever had. He does not prefer them compared to you but especially in terms of quickies and stuff he would die for them.

He would not hesitate to give back though, he is no little boy, innuendo intentional.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s usually quick when he is close and chasing his orgasm but other than that he keeps a pretty satisfying tempo.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s all in for them when you are trapped in spaces with other people for too long. He doesn’t care if you have 20 or 10 minutes, if he needs you (and you want to of course) he’d hide in the bathroom and fuck you as quick as you both can take

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is interested in the risky stuff and into trying new things but he might be a little shy at first. He will not initiate something different. At least not before you have a conversation about it and you reassure him he can tell you what he thinks..

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has not thought about it much, and in all honesty he is afraid of you using toys on him but at the same time the thought makes him very hard. he’s open to try using them if you suggest it

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ooooh a lot. he’s the absolute tease. innuendos when you are trying to have a wholesome conversation, thigh rubs when you’re in public, ‘accidentally’ hitting his arm on the wall and moaning in ‘pain’... He has a devious brat mind

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

unless you tell him to be quiet, he has no intention on confiding his sounds of pleasure. he will moan, he will scream, he will groan, he will do all of it, and if you get complaints from neighbours… oh well, they should close their windows better

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is pretty big. Above average for sure.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He is horny all.the.time. There is not a day when he does not come to you with an “i’m horny, help”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost

[thegirlwhowritesawksh-t]

la douleur de l'amour - georgenotfound x f!reader

author: @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t​ me!

word count: 4.7k +

warnings: hella angst, mentions of blood/scabs/injuries. if there’s any you think that you see, please let me know!

a/n: hi y’all :)) first off, to whoever’s reading this: stay hydrated, smile and laugh! and second: this is my submission for @bozowrites​ writing event! <33 congrats!!

**this is my second fic, and i’m hoping to push more out as i get more comfortable with writing! i’m thinking to maybe make a part two to this but i don't know yet. please let me know what you think! *sending besitos to y’all :))*

Prompt: Why are you crying?

1:15 p.m.

In the corner of a dimly lit studio in front of the barre, (y/n) leans over to her left, counting four beats before resetting and proceeding to stretch over her right side. After months spent choreographing, picking costumes, and endless bandages wrapped around her feet, it has led to the final product: her first piece in her dance company’s annual recital premiering tonight.

All (y/n) could feel was pure energy and pride at what she has created. It’s her baby after all and nothing could ruin the day for her.

Feeling her joints start to loosen up, she runs through a mental list in her head making sure each dancer had their costumes, knew where all the dancers would start and end on stage, as well as remembering her own choreography, seeing as she had an important section to end her piece. After double-checking, (y/n) then begins to travel to the center of the studio, and begins to run over the piece.

Remember the triple pirouette here, before you end with a leap to fourth position. Finishing in the fourth position, she lets out a curse as she accidently stubs her right thumb toe, a small scab already tearing at the edge. Shaking out her pain, she reattempts the move, succeeding with an effortless bow.

“You know, your piece is going to be excellent. Why are you so worried?”, a voice calls out in the quiet studio, with (y/n) yelping and trying to find where the voice came from. Standing against the edge of the doorway stood Liam, her dance partner and best friend. (y/n) begins to chuckle and runs the piece over again.

“Can’t help but make sure it’s perfect. I have drenched all my blood, sweat and tears creating this dance, this- this masterpiece. It is my first, and most certainly not my last choreographing piece at this company. There’s too much riding on this for me.”, she replies.

“Even if so, I’d like to think you’ll be fine. Don’t stress, it’s amazing. Otherwise, how are you feeling?”

“Kind of excited, kind of feeling like I should run away.”, (y/n) replies. Avoiding to answering the question entirely, she begins to run the piece over again. She continues,

“I think regardless, it should be a great night. George is coming to the recital tonight and it’ll be the first time he’ll be seeing this dance.” With George editing and recording videos for the Dream Team, his Twitch channel, and YouTube channels, (y/n)’s barely seen him since the start of the dance season. The only time she’s been able to spend time with him has been going to bed with him - even if it’s been a bit more rare lately - and sometimes, a free day on a weekend with no dance practice or no recording for George.

“So that’s why you are nervous, how cute.”, Liam laughs, with (y/n) leaping over to Liam and swatting their arm lightly.

“He swore that he’d come tonight, and he knows how much time I’ve spent perfecting this. I just can’t imagine tonight going any other way. I made sure to get him a seat right in the front, so he’ll be able to see the whole performance, and me.”, (y/n) smirks. As soon as (y/n) found out she would be choreographing one of the pieces in the recital, she immediately told George her good news. George had told her she deserved it for working her butt off since the start of her being at the dance academy. Making him pinky swear, George swore that he would be there for her first performance with her also starring as a choreographer.

“So focus on that instead of thinking your piece is going to crash and burn! Relax a bit. We only have a bit of time before we start getting ready, so let’s run it over a few more times. And don’t even think about slacking off now, missy, we’ll stretch and go get ready after.” Liam decides, and she nods, thinking it’s probably for the best. Running to her bag, (y/n) sends a quick message to George.

George J: hey, can’t wait to see you tonight! i left your ticket on your nightstand, and remember to dress up slightly, it’s a dance recital after all ;) lub you xo - sent at 1:34 p.m.

Content with her message, she tosses her phone back into her bag, and heads back to run over the piece with Liam once more.

>>>

6:47 p.m.

Sticking the last bobby-pin to her bun, (y/n) glances in the mirror to make sure no mistake is in place. Eyeing her look, she can’t help but smile looking at her dance attire, admiring how her purple leotard and dress matches her eyeshadow. Paired with a dark nude lip, she smirks and turns to check her phone for any messages, hoping that one could be from George.

Out of the nine messages she received, most were from friends and family, wishing her luck on her performance tonight. She replied with a thanks and a heart emoji before finally reading the last message coming from George about two hours ago.

George J: hi darling, i saw the ticket, i am so excited for you! can’t wait for you to take my breath away, as you always do. love you more xo  - sent at 4:48 p.m.

Smiling even wider, (y/n) puts her phone on silent, before walking towards the backstage area, passing dancers along the way. Grabbing their hands and wishing them good luck, she arrives at the destination, nerves buzzing as members of the audience start gathering at their seats. Deciding to take a peek, (y/n) rushes to the curtains, peeking her eyes out towards the front rows, trying to spot the pale boy who danced into her heart. First row, seat G for George, she giggles to herself.

“Trying to find your lover? I’m right here!” Liam asks, with (y/n) turning around.

“As much as I’d love that, I’m no Harry Styles, so I don’t think I’m your type…” (y/n) smirks.

“Hm. Where’s George, I want to see him!”

“I’m looking for him right now, Liam. Give me a second.”, (y/n) laughs as she turns back to the audience. Finding his seat, she subtly frowns seeing as he’s not in his seat yet. He’s probably in the bathroom, or still in line to get to his seat, (y/n) tries to explain to herself.

“He’s not here yet, I think he’s in the bathroom or something. But give him time, he’ll be here.” (y/n) mutters as Liam frowns at her.

“He better show up, it’s your night, (y/n).”, they grumble. They start to say more however-

“Places, everyone! Take your places! We’re starting at seven sharp!” the stage manager yells out. He continues,

“We start in five minutes!” Rushing to get off the stage, she sees dancers brush past another wishing them luck. As the ballet dancers start to move into their places for the intro piece, she then walks over to Liam, helping them set up the microphone as they begin to breathe slowly.

“Hey, you got this. It’s just reading off of cue cards and announcing pieces. And then you’ll be set for my piece. You’re going to do great, Liam.”, (y/n) tries to motivate, with Liam smiling shyly at her.

“And your piece is going to kick ass, (y/n). It’s perfection. Just wait until George sees you dance. I’m a hundred percent sure he’s going to fall for you even more.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see…” (y/n) laughs. Liam clears their throat a bit before raising the microphone to their lips. (y/n) proceeds to head to the viewing room, where a broadcast of the show would play for other dancers to watch and support their fellow castmates.

Taking a deep breath, Liam starts to speak as (y/n)’s nerves start to palpitate.

“Hello, how are you this evening? And welcome to the 67th Annual Recital for the London Dance Academy! I am your emcee, Liam Barrings, and let me introduce you to the first dance of the night created by Sam Hastings. Here is Invictus!”

>>>

8:51 p.m.

An hour later, seven dances, and many whispered good jobs, it is finally time for (y/n) to step on stage and premiere her masterpiece. Slowly tip-toeing to her first position on stage, she glances at her castmates, thanking them silently in her mind for them to trust her to bring her visions to life. Before the curtains open, she turns to Liam on her right, kneeling down and grabbing her thighs, and they smile back at her.

“Ready for it?”, they smirk. Thinking to herself, she nods and turns back to the front of the curtains waiting for the music to begin. Remember the triple pirouette after Liam grabs you. And try to look like you’re in pain from loving him. It is exquisite pain, right (y/n)? Liam is toxic, yet you still love them. Make it believable. And finally, breathe.

Another emcee, Josh begins to speak.

“And now, I present to you (y/n - y/ln)’s dance. This is her first piece with her own choreography with the London Dance Academy, and tonight, we are the very first group of people to watch her story come to life. Please let me introduce you to (y/n) and her piece, La Douleur Exquise!” the audience claps softly, before the curtains open its wings to reveal the creation.

The background, a stark white, yet the lights casts hues of soft lilacs, with streaks of dark reds splattering across the dancers’ bodies. With a small pause, music begins to sing out of the speakers. Liam and (y/n) begin the piece with a small duet. Following closely behind, a quad of dancers mimicking their moves with childlike innocence.

Liam turns to (y/n), conveying an I love you through their linked hands and they abruptly pull her to their arms, as she looks at them with confusion in her eyes and pulling away. Gliding towards the middle, the quad walks slowly to (y/n), enveloping her with open arms, before having a dance section with (y/n) in the middle as Liam looks on, hellbent on grasping (y/n) once more. Every other beat, (y/n) turns to Liam, feeling lost as if they were missing from her.

As the quad looks away, having their own small solos, (y/n) slips away from the group only to leap back into Liam’s arms with her hands grasping their face as Liam slowly grips her waist. Looking at her with renewed interest, his face morphs into fury as one of the dancers pass by her, softly guiding his fingers from her shoulder down to her inner wrist. An angry duet starts, with Liam and (y/n) clashing against each other, as if saying they hate but love each other at the same time.

(y/n) leaps into Liam’s arms, before slowly sliding herself off him as the quad of dancers, follow closely behind, lifting (y/n) to her feet. Everyone proceeds to move as one, with the quad dancing in the center, whereas Liam paces their way to (y/n), lifting her into the air once again, before they land in a small leap. Conversing with their bodies, Liam guides (y/n)’s hands to their heart, slightly pulling her along. Finally coming to the end of the dance, (y/n) runs to the center of the stage, facing the audience.

Grabbing her left arm is Liam, pulling her to their side, and the quad of dancers are pulling her on her right. The war between the two goes back and forth in a tug-of-war before (y/n) seemingly gives up and slams herself to the ground, as the music fades into silence. The audience erupts into booming claps and cheers, and (y/n) feels herself being pulled up from the ground by Liam as a light blush covers her skin. Glancing up at the audience, she tries to smile despite the stage lights burning into her. I did it, I managed to make a story, my story come to life. Hearing the audience continuing to clap, realization sets in and she finds her eyes wandering over to the front row, seat G for George. Seat empty, her smile falters and her eyes become glassy. Some would think because of her success with her piece. She couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad, maybe it was a little bit of both.

>>>

9:23 p.m.

He’s here, he has to be. He’s probably peeing or waiting for me in the front with flowers, or in the dressing room. He has to be here, I know it, (y/n) mutters to herself, hellbent on her beliefs that George is here. Yet the bitter taste of rejection starts to seep into her bones. Shaking her head a bit and attempting to put on the brightest smile, she starts to rush back to the dressing room, a sinking feeling residing in her stomach with each looming step.

Facing the dressing room door, (y/n) can’t help but hope that maybe George is standing there with a bouquet of flowers and kisses reserved for her. Slowly opening the door, her hopes slip through with her mouth curling as she stares at only her reflection in the mirror. He swore that he’d be here. He swore that he would be here for my first performance, (y/n) softly whispers to herself, tears threatening to fall. Gasping, she finally lets herself breathe as she repeats to herself again and again that he wasn’t here.

A soft knock on the door interrupts her thoughts, causing (y/n) to quickly wipe her tears before foolishly yelling out,

“George?”, as the door opens to reveal Liam and the Director himself, Nicholas Anderson.

“(y/n)? It’s us. Where’s George?” Liam asks, a frown settling into his brows.

“Oh, he’s just in the bathroom, he hasn’t been feeling good.” She lies, feeling bile itch her throat. A little white lie shouldn’t hurt anyone, (y/n) thought.

“Hello, (y/n). You looked wonderful out there! Your dance was easily one of the highlights of the night, I couldn’t stop replaying the duet between you and Liam in my head. Your dance truly captured the aspects of a toxic relationship not from one side but from both of point of views. It truly showed exquisite pain, knowing that you would always go back to Liam, but would Liam be there for you?” Nicholas explains, his words smacking (y/n) at full force. Is- is George there for me?, (y/n) thinks to herself. Nicholas continues on,

“I think you are a great addition to our Academy, and tonight truly proved how ready you are to become a full-time member. So how about it? Next season, we’ll be adding you to the roster of choreographers.” Eyes wide, (y/n) nods furiously with a yes and hugs Liam. Nicholas smiles and exits the room, leaving behind two excited dancers jumping around.

“You did it! Now we have to celebrate! Club night, I don’t care. We are going to get plastered! Bring George!” Liam laughs. At the mention of George, her stomach turns as she then realizes George wasn’t here. What sounded like good news turns to rot as she starts thinking of George.

“Let me check my phone, it has been a while in the bathroom, huh?” (y/n) tries to joke, trying hard to not let her voice waver and letting her brain scramble to come up with another small lie. Reaching through her phone, she reads over the texts once again sent from family and friends, finding the conversation between her and George. No new messages, her heart sinks as she slowly starts to open up the rest of her notifications, scrolling to most likely find the purple box that would always stay permanently stuck on her home screen. With bright white letters glaring at her, her heart begins to ebb away feeling a familiar sense of loneliness.

1h, 53 min ago: MINECRAFT MANHUNT W/ THE DREAM TEAM

Relying on her emotions, she turns to face Liam, hoping that her excitement of her promotion would overcome the feeling of abandonment of the man she loved. Plastering a sad smile through watery eyes, she forces out,

“George isn’t feeling well, he’s got an upset stomach. I think it’s the stomach flu going around.” If you can convey pain through dance, you can lie through this as well, (y/n) thought. She continues,

“I don’t know if I should be going out since he’s sick.” (y/n) mutters.

“So we go without him! It’s your celebration, his loss.” Liam rolls their eyes. His loss, my loss - seems like the same.

“I- I don’t know, Liam… I’d want to celebrate with him as well.”

“And I get that, but at least go out with us. You always have tomorrow with him, or later tonight. Do it for tonight, do it because you’re going to be a choreographer next season! At least do it for me and the group. We’ve worked our ass all season and we made your vision come true.” Liam explains. Contemplating with herself, (y/n) resolves with a soft smile and mutters an okay. Pumping their fist in the air, Liam excuses themselves to notify the others of the good news and plans.

Once again facing the mirror, (y/n) repeats with determination to celebrate her night. It’s her night to celebrate with loved ones, even if the one she loved the most isn’t there beside her. So much trying to take your breath away when you weren’t even here, George. Taking a breath, she forces out a shaky laugh and tries to smile. Let’s go celebrate, (y/n).

>>>

1:39 a.m.

Slightly stumbling out of the taxi, (y/n) manages to slowly walk her way up to his doorsteps, phone still showing that George was still streaming. Pausing her hand on the doorknob, she resolves to try to wait until morning to confront him, not trusting herself completely to be okay in front of him. Opening the door softly, she walk in, attempting to not make a sound. With small steps, she closes and locks the door before setting her bags down. That can be cleaned tomorrow, (y/n) thought. Rubbing her eyes, she decides to make herself tea before she goes to bed, most likely not with George until he finishes his stream.

While making her tea, (y/n) thinks of everything that she has worked for in the last few months. Endless changes to her dance, countless small injuries, whether it be a jammed toe/finger, scrapes of blood scattered around her feet from dragging her feet too hard across the floor, everything. Why is it that with her triumph, she is beyond proud yet the idea of George not being there to witness her moment shatters that accomplishment? Mulling it over, she doesn’t notice George bustling down the stairs, finished with his successful 5 hour stream with Dream and Sapnap. Spotting (y/n) making her tea, he slowly approaches her and wraps his arms around her waist, landing a soft kiss to her shoulders.

“Why are you home late, Darling? It’s nearly almost two in the morning.”, George chuckles, as (y/n) freezes in his arms. Softly shaking her head, she tries to side-step out of his arms and brings her tea to the opposite side of the room, wrapping an arm around herself. Clearly, he didn’t remember, (y/n) slowly starts to think and repeat to herself.

“Why do you think I was out, George?” she softly asks, taking a sip of tea to calm her nerves. I guess we’re just going to have to hash it out now.

“I don’t know, but did you see the stream? I beat Dream at the last second and he was this close to defeating the Ender Dragon!”, George starts to explain while laughing, with (y/n) taking a harsh breath in. Pinching in-between her brows, she snaps,

“No, George, I didn’t see the stream because I went out to celebrate.”, she mutters, tears slowly starting to escape.

“(y/n)? Is there something wrong? Why are you crying?“ Turning around, (y/n) tries to look anywhere but him. She settles on looking at the clock, watching as time went by, and her nerves increasing with each second. George starts to say more-

“I needed you tonight. Do you remember what tonight was? To my career? To me?”, (y/n) cuts him off. Standing there without a thought, dread slowly seeps in as George realizes that he missed her performance. He starts to stutter,

“Darling, I- “

“No! No. You do not get to apologize. I needed you and where were you? Sitting on your ass playing Minecraft with Dream and Sapnap! I get that your career is very reliant on you being consistent with your uploads, but you couldn’t have taken a night off? For me? I- ”

“(y/n), it’s not like that at- “

“Don’t- just don’t try to explain or come up with excuses. I just don’t want to hear it George. I spent months working on this, exhausted yet still pushing myself for the damn Academy. You swore that you would be there. I left you the ticket on your nightstand, you even texted me saying that you were excited to come! So imagine me standing on stage, looking at the front row, seat G, and where the hell were you? Not there, George. You were not there. I looked like a fool waiting for you to see me perform and dance. Do you remember Nicholas Anderson?”, (y/n) tries to ask calmly. George only stare at her with defeated eyes as he shakes his head no. Cursing, she heaves out a breath before continuing,

“He’s the director of the Academy, George. He’s offered me a position to be a permanent member and choreographer for the London Dance Academy. So please, let me ask again: where were you? I had to lie to Liam and say that you had an upset stomach and that you couldn’t come out! So, Liam invited me to celebrate with the dancers, to celebrate tonight’s success.”

“(y/n)- (y/n), we can celebrate now. I know- I truly know I messed up, but I can fix it, we can celebrate right now!” George stumbles out, walking towards her to grab her hands. Stepping back, she glares at George, appalled that he truly thinks he could resolve this. Shaking her head harshly, she bites out,

“I don’t want to celebrate with you. I’ve already celebrated with loved ones.” Rolling his eyes, George tries to reason with (y/n).

“Okay, I get it. I’m the bad guy in this scenario. But I’m trying to make this right. I am so sorry, darling, but I want to make it up to you, you know I am sorry.”

“You know, I never ask you to cancel a stream or get off of the stream. I always try to understand for the life of me why the streams have to be long, but I try. I always watch your streams and interact with your fans for your sake. I’ve had to explain countless reasons as to why you never show up to my performances, or why you can’t go out with me with the other dancers. And I am okay with it, don’t get me wrong. I know how much Twitch and YouTube and the Dream Team means to you. But you mean everything to me as well. So forgive me if I wanted to be a little selfish and ask you to support me in one of the biggest performances of my life.”

“I can go to the next one, (y/n). It’s not like it’s the last performance.” George snaps.

“You don’t get it, do you?”, she asks, wiping furiously at her tears, trying to not stutter through her words.

“What is there to get? Clearly I’m trying my hardest to make it up to you.”, he replies.

“I love you. I’m so much in love with you, it hurts. But you don’t get it. I have been there for everything in your career. Your first hundred subscribers, your first million subscribers, when you won the MCC back to back, everything. This was- is the important night of my life, and you didn’t show up. You stuck with Dream and Sapnap and decided to stream instead. This night was important for my career, and you knew! I told you months and weeks in advance. I wanted you to take charge and clear your schedule for today and- and sit in the damn seat that I chose because G stood for George. It was for you.” She sobs out, chest shaking as she tries to collect the words tumbling out of her mouth. With eyes flashing in annoyance, George tries to speak over her tears,

“(y/n)- “

“I created this dance for you! For me and- and for us. Because we believed in each other and had the support for each other. Clearly, it was one-sided and tonight proved that.”

“(y/n), listen to me- ”, George stops himself. Watching (y/n) fall apart, he takes a shaky breath and tries to walk closer to (y/n). However, (y/n) takes more steps back, leaving a distance of hostility and guilt between the two lovers.

“I love you. I love you with all of my heart. And… and I know you love me. But I needed you. Do you even need me?” she asks, the thick silence covering the air.

“Yes! How- how could you even say that, (y/n)?“ George replies just as quick as she finished asking. Looking at him for the first time tonight, she lets out a sob. With cheeks red, hands tugging at his hair, and George frantically looking at her, (y/n) can’t help but cry a little more.

“Because tonight proved otherwise. I wanted a night of you to myself to watch me be pretty and dance, and you didn’t even give up one night for me.”, she says, tugging at her sweater. Looking up, she further goes on to say,

“How stupid would it be if I were to ask to choose between me or the Dream Team? Or- Or your career?”, barking out a bitter laugh as George stares with guilt. As silence meets her ears, (y/n) slowly starts to sober up, eyes slightly widening with shock.

“George…”

“I’d find a way to make it work, I’ve been making it work for us since the beginning!” George snaps.

“George, you know I would never ask that, because I personally think it’s a selfish question. But if I decided to ask seriously, right now. What’s your answer?”

“And I’m telling you, I am making both work. Please believe me, (y/n).”, George says quietly, grasping at whatever opportunities there are left to resolve this potentially fatal matter.

“I can’t tell anymore.”, her voice cracking as fresh tears pool down her cheeks.

“I don’t think I can stay here for a while. At least until I’ve had some time to think.”, she manages to force out.

“(y/n), you can’t be serious. No, we are fixing this now!” George tries to say with an unwavering voice, eyes slowly becoming glassy.

“I can’t look at you George without wanting to cry, and- and scream- yet tell you I love you, even if you don’t deserve my love, especially right now. I need to go- I’m going to go. I’ll be back in a while.”, (y/n) says, choking on her words. Walking backwards, she turns to the door, with George following her and watching her pick up her dance bags. Lying on the ground was a bouquet of flowers, crumpled amongst her heart. Choosing not to pick up the bouquet, she mumbles out,

“I’ll call you when I’m ready.” Pausing, (y/n) looks up at George for the final time tonight, willing herself to not run back to him, despite how much the desire is growing to do so.

“I love you, George.”, opening the door, George yells out,

“I love- “, the door cutting through his confession, acting as a wall between the two. George tries to reach the door knob, ready to run after the love of his life. Yet… he’s frozen on the spot, with tears finally trickling down his cheeks, and pushing deep breaths out to steady his shaking heart.

Why are you crying, George?

[lululawrence]

Polyamory Fic Rec

I thought I’d made one already, but apparently I hadn’t. So, since @twopoppies had an anon looking for more, I figured I’d go ahead and make a rec list now. This is not exhaustive, but it’s a start! 

Please remember to leave the authors kudos and nice comments to show appreciation for their work.

I Should've Known by @nikogda (Liam/Louis/Harry, 11k)

It started out with little things here and there. A light that needed replacing. The belt in the vacuum. Small things, and eventually they took advantage of it.

Louis decided they needed another, larger repair whilst talking with his alpha neighbour, Liam. Liam had said he would do it for Louis and his partner, Harry.

And, well, it sort of went a little off track from there. What was an innocent thing at first, was now the two omegas’ way of catching the sweet deep scent of their alpha neighbour one whom they both mutually crushed.

Or: the one where alpha Liam moves in next door to bonded omegas Louis and Harry. All three go on their own journeys but in the end find that maybe, in the end, it really was always each other.

And That Was That by @lightwoodsmagic​ (Zayn/Liam/Harry/Louis, 23k)

“Okay. When Zayn and I were working on the set yesterday, Liam dropped by and mentioned he had a date. I asked Zayn about it, and he said that they’re ah - poly?”

Harry blinked.

“Oh yeah, I knew that. Li mentioned it when we were playing tennis once.” He ran his hand through Louis’ hair, smiling softly when he nuzzled into the touch.

“Is that what’s making you act strange? Because it seems like something that works for them, and I —.”

“Zayn has feelings for me.” A deep breath, and then blue eyes locked on green. “He said he needs distance because he has to get over them.”

Harry hadn’t realised his hand had fallen from Louis’ face until his fingers were being tangled and gripped tightly.

Or, Zayn and Liam have been polyamorous for years, but Harry and Louis are monogamous. When Zayn meets Louis and starts to fall for him, it opens them all up for something they've never experienced before.

That Don't Define Who You Are by lululawrence (Nick/Harry/Louis, 7k)

“Shit,” Harry muttered, rushing towards the man. “Are you alright?”

The man clearly tried to muffle his scream. “No, I’m really not. I’m afraid you’ll need to call 999.”

When Harry reached the man, he saw the man’s leg had gotten caught by pieces of the bike that had come apart beneath him. Without thinking, Harry leaned down and lapped where the blood was flowing quickly until it slowed.

“I’m so sorry, I just didn’t want you to pass out whilst I was on the phone.”

“God, no, don’t apologise,” the man said. “My mum’s a licking omega, see. Quite soothing.”

Harry blushed. “Yeah. Let me see about an ambulance for you.”

Or the one where Harry is a licking omega with a broken bond who helps heal a fairly hapless beta with a folding bicycle. When Harry also meets the beta's alpha, things start to get... interesting.

Its Mutual We (All) Discussed It by @nikogda (Zayn/Harry/Louis, 29k)

“Well you go to the agency, Alpha Donor Services and fill some forms out, whoever is doing the deed gets tested and such. And then they match you based on the papers with a few Alphas. You read the information on them and pick a few, they make sure they’re still willing and tell them about you. Eventually you guys will meet in public, do that a few times until you’re comfortable.” Niall scratched his arm lightly, and glances over at Harry, “The point of the service is to help a family, mostly an omega one, who can’t have children of their own. An Alpha will help an Omega get pregnant.”

“I feel like this is a lot.” Harry mumbles, setting his mug down.

“It is. Or well it was but it was worth it, H. I mean, I would do this again. We already talked about it.”

“Really?”

Or: Two omegas in a committed relationship are ready to start a family. In the process, their alpha donor becomes part of the family too. Every part of their relationship may be unconventional but all of them have never been happier

old haunts are for forgotten ghosts by fortymaliks (Nick/Harry/Louis, 8k)

“It’s the three of us, now,” Harry says, finally.

Louis blinks.

“Like,” Harry rushes to clarify, “you, and me, and Nick.”

Louis wakes up with amnesia, and learns that he's missing two whole years of his life. Two whole years, and some interesting developments...

Orion's Belt by @londonfoginacup (Nick/Harry/Louis, 24k)

Louis and Nick have been in a happy committed relationship for two years, their matching soulmarks on display for the world to see. It’s been them against the world, the alpha/beta singer and radio DJ power duo.

All that changes on February 1st, when they wake up to a third matching soulmark.

As they say, the course of true love never did run smooth.

You're a Rabbit, Louis Series by @magicalrocketships (Nick/Harry/Louis, 16k)

"Maybe Louis turned into a rabbit," Nick suggests. They both laugh. Louis doesn't. Harry is an idiot and Nick is an even bigger one.

Louis stomps past both of them on four tiny, furry, baby rabbit paws, and into Nick's flat. "I hate you both," he says. He sits on the rug by the TV. "And you can stop following me around too," he says to Pig, who sits down next to him on the rug.

"But seriously," Harry says, from the door. "Where's Louis?"

Louis thumps his back leg on the floor. "I'm here, you idiot."

"I'm not really suggesting this could be true," Nick says carefully, "but are we sure he isn't a tiny baby rabbit?"

The "A" in "Normal" by Yesitstyles (Nick/Harry/Louis, 28k)

Louis eats chips, argues with his best friend Nick about the validity of various sexualities, and falls for a second crush. Harry tries to spell the word "normal".

Loving You's the Antidote by lululawrence (Nick/Harry/Louis, 11k)

Nick and Harry had never been an obvious match. When eighteen-year-old Harry, newly presented as an omega, came home freshly bonded to Nick, a man nine years his elder and a beta no less, Anne had been more than skeptical and Eileen had shared some harsh words of her own. That didn’t deter them, though, and their families soon realised there really was something special about the bondmates that allowed them to work together almost seamlessly.

It was only a few months later that Harry started getting sick.

Or the one where Harry and Nick have been able to keep Harry's disorder at bay over the course of their relationship, but when they move to London and away from their support system, they find themselves in desperate need of help.

Come Out and Play by @dinosaursmate (Combination of OT5 pairings, 30k)

“I have this… fantasy.” Louis smiled self-consciously. “Well, I- I’ve been thinking about it recently, you know?”

Harry smiled softly. “Say it, Lou.”

“I have this fantasy,” he repeated. “Of… all five of us.”

“All five of us,” Harry exclaimed. “Gosh.”

Louis buried his face into Harry’s armpit, and Harry giggled softly. --- Harry and Louis discover a new kink in their relationship, and it brings all the boys closer than they could have ever imagined.

Trinity's Fate by Anonymous (Nick/Harry/Louis, 43k)

When a person is sixteen years old, he or she finds out if they are a dom or a sub. Later when they turn eighteen, the name of their soulmate(s) appear somewhere on their body.

Louis Tomlinson, a sub, fears getting a dom more than anything.

When his eighteenth birthday approaches and the names Nicholas Grimshaw and Harry Styles, a well known dom couple who are DJs for BBC Radio 1, appear on his arms, Louis panics.

Let me be your good night by Conscious_ramblings (Nick/Greg/Harry/Louis, 8k)

The one where Harry and Louis are in love, they end up at a party with some friends, and end up discovering things about themselves, and their friends that could change everything.

The thing was, Harry and Louis weren’t poly. They’d never even played with others together, despite having talked about it quite a lot in the heat of arousal. When they had been at torture garden and antichrist they had flirted with the idea. Harry had even kissed a friend of theirs once to rile Louis up, which had lead to a great session on the Saint Andrew’s cross. Louis loved to watch Harry flirt, loved the way jealousy turned him on and riled him up, loved how pliant and submissive Harry could be when Louis claimed him after. But they definitely weren’t poly, and Louis wasn’t quite sure what that meant for this evening. Everyone else attending the party was, and Louis’ green-eyed-monster had been feeding off that fact for most of the bus ride here. Now he was confronted by a really hot man playing with his boyfriend’s hair like it was no big deal, and he didn’t know quite what to do.

Perfect Sky by @polkadotlou (Nick/Harry/Louis, 40k)

Sub pairs are a rare thing, not only because of the jealousy that can brew between submissives if a Dom isn't attentive to each.

A sub pair has to be balanced.

Harry and Louis have always fit each other without trying. With them, it's easy.

But sub pairs can't just go out in the world and live on their own.

Alternatively, Louis always knew that a Dom was going to come into his and Harry’s lives – he only wishes Nick picked him too.

The Only Thing That Keeps Me Grounded by lululawrence (Nick/Harry/Louis, 28k)

“Shit, I definitely missed the last train.”

“Oh no,” Louis lamented. “I’d offer a ride, but I’m part of a carpool and we’re full already. I’m so sorry.”

“Really, it’s fine.” Then, what Louis said sank in. “Wait, I thought you were here alone?”

“Oh, I am. I’m the only one dancing here tonight. The others were working. In fact, here’s Nick now.”

It felt like slow motion as a tall, lanky man with incredible hair came walking over towards Louis. He smiled before pulling Louis into him and giving him a quick kiss.

“Nick, this is my new friend Harry. He just moved to the area and he’s amazing at swing. Harry, this is my husband, Nick.”

Fuck.

Or the one where Harry moves to Washington DC to be a nanny and never expects that his past struggles with love will be brought to a head. He definitely never expects the solution to it all will be the man of his dreams that just so happens to be married to the other man of his dreams.

Tell Me It’s The Strongest Shape by @louandhazaf (Nick/Elgar/Louis, 73k)

Nick and Elgar have it all. They’re famous, successful, and engaged to be married—and sometimes they play with others.

When uni student Louis gets street cast by Elgar for a GQ photoshoot, he's drawn into Nick and Elgar’s complicated relationship.

They've always invited mates into their bed. It doesn’t ever mean anything. Until… it does.

it hurts, but it's worth it by words_unravel (Liam/Harry/Louis, 14k)

Liam finds the shots of the three of them, rolling around and laughing, a week or so later during a late night. After a moment's pause, she saves one of the photos, giving it some inane, boring name. She shuts down her computer after that and goes to bed.

It takes a long time before she falls asleep.

[rocorambles]

A Skulk of Foxes

Pairing: Kita x Reader

Prompt: Fantasy

Genre: SFW, Fluff, Fox Shifter Kita, Fantasy AU, Shifter AU

Summary: You moved to the woods to start fresh, begin a new chapter in your life. Little do you know just how much your world is about to change because of a skulk of foxes.  

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s SFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Masterlist goes live Thursday, October 29th 11:00pm U.K. time!) 

You sigh with relief when you finally finish unpacking the last box of your possessions, stretching your aching muscles as excitement finally begins to bubble inside of you when you proudly look at your new home you’ve made for yourself. Reality is finally sinking in and your giddy with the feeling of a fresh start, a new beginning. The quaint little cabin is certainly different from the cramped modern apartment you had in the heart of Tokyo, but different is exactly what you need and you nestle into the cozy armchair by the window in your new living room, a cup of hot tea in your hands as you enjoy the silence of nature and the view of swaying branches. 

If anyone were to have told you that you’d willingly choose to live in the middle of the woods by yourself a few years ago, you would have laughed. You were a city girl through and through and the idea of not being surrounded by the noise of traffic and crowds of people was baffling. But after your long-term relationship had taken a nosedive into the ground and crash and burned, suddenly the city felt suffocating, filled with too many memories, too many mutual acquaintances and when you had seen this listing on your way back home from work one night, you had jumped at the opportunity to escape it all and start a new chapter. 

Your new way of life takes some adjusting to, but you don’t mind as you pull on your new hiking boots, eager to explore the acres of wooded lands you’re surrounded by. The air is crisp and fresh, and you inhale deeply, soaking in the peaceful quiet only interrupted by the crunching of dirt and grass under your feet. And that’s how your days idle by, you scoping out the area in the early mornings as the sun is rising with your trusty nature handbook you’d bought in one hand, a basket in the other hand as you look back and forth between the herbs and plants you see and the painted illustrations and tips in the book, returning with a bundle of freshly picked produce before signing onto your work computer and dutifully putting in your hours. It’s a tiring grind, but when you finally get to power down your laptop and sit outside under the bright night stars with a glass of wine in your hand, it doesn’t seem so bad after all. 

You get savvier and more adventurous, really leaning into country living as you begin to grow your own vegetables and fruit, set up a fire pit, plant flowers that you use to spruce up your living space. It’s a wonderful life, but there’s only one slight concern in the back of your mind.

The foxes. 

Growing up in the city, you’d never learned how to handle animals other than the rats and roaches the concrete jungle was infested with. Sure, you love your share of fluffy dogs and cats that you’d pet and play with, but there’s a big difference between domesticized pets and wild animals and you had noticed early on that your neck of the woods seemed to be rampant with foxes. You wonder if it’s just the fact that you’d never seen a fox in real life before, but you can’t help but think these foxes seem much larger than your usual fox, their fur and eye colors ranging far more than you thought was biologically possible. But even though they seem to like hovering around you and watching you intently from a distance, they never draw near and they leave your gardens alone, so you dismiss their presence, letting them do as they please as you go about your own business. 

The weather’s getting colder and you figure now is the time to test the fire pit you’d built. It takes a bit of fumbling around, but you beam with pride when you get a flame started, mesmerized by the flickering light and warmth beginning to billow. And although the wind has a bite to it, the radiating heat keeps you comfortable as you roast the chicken you had bought in town, mouth already watering as the smell of cooked meat begins to permeate throughout the air. But you’re startled when two furry bodies suddenly brush up against you and you stay perfectly still, unsure what to do when a gold fox leaps into your lap, curling into a fluffy ball as he stares at you while a silver fox calmly sits next to you, nudging your hand with his head in a silent order to pet him and you tentatively scratch behind his ears, staring in awe as he leans into your touch. 

For wild animals, they’re oddly well behaved and affectionate and you’re frankly stunned that they hadn’t just pounced at the raw meat and ran away with your dinner. But you’re not complaining and you continue petting them as your meal continues cooking, only stopping to their dismay when the chicken is ready to be cut up. Your heart breaks a bit when you see them staring expectantly at you and you swear they're both pouting as you make a move to bring the chicken inside the house, but their ears perk up when you leave your door open and beckon them inside and they’re quick to race towards you, rushing between your legs before making their way to your dining table and jumping up on the extra chairs you have set. It’s certainly an odd sight to see two large wild foxes easily make themselves at home, but you can’t help but fondly smile at them when you prepare three plates of food and they eagerly dig in. 

They’re surprisingly neat about eating and it’s almost eerie how they seem to purposefully keep the scraps and bones on their plate, almost human-like the way they grab your napkin, using it to wipe their mouths and paws. Maybe they used to be someone’s pets? But you don’t dwell on it, enjoying the company they provide as they curl up by your feet as you wash the dishes, as their feet pitter-patter after you as you do some errands around the cabin and you’re almost sad when they nudge you to the door, waiting for you to let them out before you go to sleep. 

You quickly realize there’s nothing to be sad about, not when you have a furry entourage that walks beside you whenever you’re outside, not when bodies are weaving in between your legs, almost threatening to trip you with how excited they are to play with you, not when heads are constantly butting against you, begging for pets. It seems like your two friends had spread the word and now you have a whole slew of friendly foxes wanting to get to know you better and you love every second of it, even building a little door for them to easily walk in and out of your cabin and it becomes a common occurrence for you to wake up to fluffy bodies curled around your body, for foxes to be perched on your dining room chairs at meal times, for you to have a lap full of needy foxes wanting your attention when all your bellies are full.  

But there’s one fox who keeps his distance from you and even though he’s not the largest of the bunch, even you can sense the quiet authority he has as the other foxes are quick to lower their heads submissively and run to him when he barks at them. Even the golden fox who you’ve come to pinpoint as the troublemaker of the group seems to quiet down a bit around him and one day when he’s being just a tad too rowdy with you, nipping you harder than usual as he excitedly pounces on you, he immediately whines and sinks his head into the crook of your neck in apology when the light gray leader harshly growls at him. You affectionately pet the sad gold pile in your arms and verbally assure the gray fox that you’re fine even though you’re sure that he can’t understand a word you’re saying, but to your surprise, as if he comprehends exactly what you’re trying to convey, the gray fox relaxes a bit and lies back down, going back to quietly watching his pack and you. 

The weather’s becoming frigid and you know it’s silly to worry about clearly healthy and strong wild animals who’ve fended for themselves their whole lives, but you can’t help the pang of concern you have for your furry friends as snow begins to creep in. However, in hindsight, maybe you should have been more concerned for yourself. It’s an especially brutal day and you really shouldn’t be outside at all, not with the wind whipping at neck breaking speeds and torrential amounts of snow pouring down, but like a true city idiot, you’d procrastinated about restocking your wood supply and now with nothing left to keep you warm, you have no choice but to venture out and collect as much as you can to at least keep a fire going on during the worst of the snow storm. 

You pride yourself on knowing the woods like the back of your hand now, but the pain of the wind whipping your face and the never ending white in your vision as the snow keeps on coming down makes it hard to concentrate, makes it hard to orient yourself and as the frost begins to get to you, making you shiver, making you lose all train of thoughts other than the fact that you’re literally freezing to death, you panic. You’re frozen stiff as you wildly circle around, trying to calm the swirling dark thoughts in your head as you try to make sense of where you are, but it’s no use. Everything looks the same now and you think you might be sick from the rocketing anxiety inside of you, but you’re pulled back to reality by a harsh tug at your coat sleeve and you almost sob in relief when you see a familiar light gray pelt tipped with black. 

Brown eyes look imploringly at you as he gives your sleeve another harsh tug and that’s all the encouragement you need to stumble after him, trusting him to bring you back to safety. Your legs are numb and there’s not a hint of grace in your steps and for a second, you’re afraid of falling behind, but your heart warms at the way he makes sure to never be more than an arm's length in front of you, always turning his head back to make sure you’re still right behind him, nipping insistently at you when you pause for too long. And even when you finally reach your cabin, he practically shoves you through your door with his whole body, almost ripping your clothes as he rapidly helps you remove your soaked through clothing. 

You’re shocked to see him still standing outside your bathroom door when you finally step out of the warm water, but still overwhelmed and exhausted by the day’s events, you only briefly acknowledge him as your body barely makes it to your bed before collapsing. And as your eyes shut and you slip under a heavy cloud of sleep, you swear you feel arms and hands rearranging you, carefully tucking you underneath your blankets, propping your head up on a pillow. You swear you hear a male voice scolding you for putting yourself in danger, telling you to rest. But too exhausted to open your heavy lids, you chalk it up to your imagination before completely drifting off. 

You’ll never be able to fully explain what happened as you finally wake up only to find that a fire has been started, a healthy supply of dry wood set up by it, your wet clothes hung up to dry, but unable to really remember much after you’d been guided back to your cabin, you think you must have just been working on auto-pilot before you passed out. (Never mind that you certainly don’t remember collecting that much wood.) But with no better explanation, you let it be, just glad to be safe and warm. And it seems like you’re not the only one happy to still see you alive and kicking as familiar visitors come by to check in on you and you have a strange suspicion that they’re worried about you, even the gold fox being more docile than usual as he cuddles with you. To your surprise, their leader also pays you a visit and you can’t help but feel chastised when you thank him for rescuing you, only to get a sharp nip and a growl in return and you swear he’s glowering at you. But it seems that all is forgiven when he shoves the gold fox out of your lap and regally takes his place, curling up and falling fast asleep on top of you. 

They never let you leave your cabin alone again that winter and it’s almost comical when they let out a series of howls as you climb into your car when you refuse to let even one of them ride with you. You wonder if an outsider would think you’re crazy as you speak to them, telling them you’d be right back after you pick up some much needed supplies and food from town that you can’t get by yourself in the woods. But eventually they quiet down and you chuckle when you see them all sitting outside your cabin through your rear car window, watching you leave, and you have a strong suspicion that they’ll be in the same exact position waiting for you when you return home. 

The town’s small, but everyone’s so friendly and helpful that you don’t mind waiting a tiny bit longer in line as the sole cashier takes care of everyone, enjoying the friendly chitter chatter and catching up on what’s been going on. The sheriff greets you and you smile at the handsome man. Daichi had been one of the first people to go out of his way to greet you. “It’s a sheriff’s duty to know everyone in town,” he had said, but you had a feeling that sheriff or not, he’d still be friendly enough to try and get to know the new person in town. Conversation is pleasant as both of you share what’s been going on in your lives, but your heart drops when he warns you to be careful of poachers in your area. His team is still trying to find and arrest them, but until then, he cautions you from wandering too far from home. He continues rambling on, but you’ve completely tuned him out, your mind only thinking of your new furry family and everything is a blur as you shakily pack your car trunk and race home. 

Relief floods through you when you see the foxes still lazing about and lounging in your yard, perking up at the sight and sound of your rapidly approaching vehicle. But their fur stands up and their tails rise in agitation at your distressed state as you usher them into the safety of your cabin and before you know it, you’re surrounded by multiple bodies whimpering and trying to jump on you to soothe you. You know it’s silly to talk to them and try to explain what’s going on, but with no other way to relay your feelings, you tell them what Daichi had told you, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when you beg them to be careful, telling them they can use your house as a safe shelter whenever they need, and you don’t even realize that you’re almost completely sobbing until their light gray leader leaps into your lap and gently laps away your salty tears, nuzzling his face against your cheek as if he’s trying to comfort you. And whether or not that’s really what he was intending, you do feel better as you hug his large body close to you, burying your face into his soft fur. 

You feel lighter after that night, still a little wary and concerned for your newfound friends, but days pass and life seems normal. You don’t hear gunshots. You don’t see strange men roaming through the woods. Daichi and you keep in contact and although he tells you they still haven’t caught the perpetrators yet, slight hope rises in you and you wonder if they’ve moved on to a different area. But your hopes are instantly dashed when you’re abruptly woken by paws frantically clawing at you, loud distressed howls right in your ear and with your heart thumping out of your chest you stare with wide bleary eyes at the gold and silver foxes nudging you out of bed, one leading the way, the other repeatedly rushing you, his head pushing against the back of your legs. 

You have a bad feeling about what has them in such an uproar and you hate that your apprehension was warranted when you see their leader crying in pain, an ugly sharp metal contraption digging deeply into one of his front legs and suddenly you’re moving even faster than your furry companions as you lunge towards him, quickly, but carefully trying to assess the damage, trying to figure out how to untangle him from the horrid trap. You’ve just managed to pry open the trap enough for him to free himself and limp a bit aways when you hear the sounds of men's voices and approaching footsteps. And there’s nothing friendly about the way they’re shouting, nothing welcoming about the glint of their guns in the flashlight beams bouncing around, so before you can even strategically think about what you’re doing, you pick up the injured fox, careful not to jostle or touch his wound as you run as fast as your legs can move, not stopping even when your lungs are burning from exertion, even when you want to keel over from exhaustion, urged on and not allowed to slow down by the nips to your ankles the gold and silver foxes give you as they run alongside you. 

Gunshots are whizzing around you, but you have the knowledge of the terrain and expert guides on your side and the angry screams get quieter and farther away the longer you race forward before soon enough there’s only your labored breathing and the tiny cries of the fox you’re holding to your chest. But despite that, you don’t slow down, throwing your front door open as you slowly lay the gray fox on your bed, rushing to grab your first-aid box while simultaneously calling Daichi, putting him on speaker phone as you wash the bloody matted fur. You know you must sound frazzled, distracted as you fumble with words, trying to give him the best approximate location you can of where you’d lost the poachers while you tenderly pet the whimpering fox who’s hissing with every wipe you give to his bleeding injury, but you thank whoever’s listening that Daichi makes sense of your stuttered words and tells you he’s on his way to scan the area and for you to get some rest before hanging up and leaving you to give your sole attention to your patient. 

You whisper sweet encouraging words in a soft tone, apologizing and stroking his stomach everytime he winces as you continue cleaning his wound, but he stays perfectly still, not budging even an inch despite his discomfort and when you finally bandage him up, you smile as you see him finally slumping into your bedsheets, exhaustion finally catching up to him now that adrenaline isn’t amping him up and you can’t help the affectionate kiss you plant on his forehead as you tuck him into your bed, unaware of the way brown eyes stare at you in shock, unblinking as they process the intimate gesture you’d gifted him. And when you get ready for bed, shooing the other foxes out of your room to give your special guest some space and peace to fully relax, you’re still oblivious to the way a wet snout tentatively returns your gesture when you close your eyes, making light contact with your own forehead before curling his furry head underneath your chin and basking in your natural warmth. 

It’s warm when you wake up, which is welcome when it’s frigid outside of the safety of your blankets and you instinctively lean into the source expecting to feel the familiar plush fur of the foxes who come to share your bed sometimes. But your eyes shoot open when you feel warm skin underneath your fingertips and you have to fight back the scream when you come face to face with a man you don’t recognize who’s groggily opening his brown eyes, your body scrambling backwards. Tangled in the sheets, you don’t get far and fear lances through you as you stare wide-eyed at the stranger beside you who’s...panicking even more than you are? 

You pause in your escape attempt as you take a closer look at the man who’s frantically wrapping your blanket around his bare body, brown eyes staring at you in fear which is strange considering this is your room he’s intruding in. Common sense tells you to be wary and yet there’s something familiar about his eyes and when you finally take note of his light gray hair tipped with black and the bandage around his arm, disbelief runs through you as you tentatively approach his huddled form. 

“Are you- are you the fox I took care of?”

Brown eyes warily observe you as you draw near, but they widen in surprise when your hand gently runs through his hair and you give him the same sweet smile you’ve always given him when he was in his fox form. 

“You’re not scared of me?” 

You laugh. “If anything, I’m more surprised than anything else. Care to explain?”

And spurred on by the hope that the human he’s come to love might actually accept him for who he really is, he is quick to tell you everything and anything and you listen in amazement as he tells you about shifters, how him and his pack are all fox shifters, how there are different types of shifters all over the world, how they’re much more common than humans realize. He tells you his name, Kita, and the names of every fox shifter you’ve met. He tells you about the awful history of humans hunting them down to sell on the black market which has led them to live as foxes, deep in the woods, away from any living soul. He tells you about how you’re the first human his pack has interacted with for years, the first human to gain their trust after years of loneliness, never being able to access or connect with their human side. 

There’s a brief moment of silence as you take everything in, still softly carding your fingers through his hair. But the lingering question in your head finally slips out. 

“Why did you reveal yourself to me now?”

And your lips quirk at the shy flustered expression on his face as he buries deeper into your cozy blankets. 

“I was too exhausted to keep my fox form after everything that happened last night.”

But before you can tease him a bit more, there’s a knock on your door and you panic, unsure how to explain the unknown man in your cabin. However, it seems that you have nothing to worry about when you spin around, only to see Kita’s fox form nonchalantly curled up in your bed, looking at you with his own smug amusement at your gaping mouth. You rush to the door, Kita padding after you, a slight limp from his front leg and upon seeing the sheriff through your peephole, you greet him, giddy with relief when he tells you that they’ve managed to apprehend all the poachers thanks to your tip last night. 

It never crosses your mind how strange it was that Daichi so easily arrested all the men despite your extremely vague directions and despite it being pitch black, but unknown to you, it’s easier than you think to maneuver through the dense night woods when you have wings. However, Kita’s more perceptive than you and when he scents the air, he looks in interest at the man who smells like a crow and brown and black eyes lock for a second as a hint of acknowledgement runs through Daichi’s eyes when the shifter inside of him sees the fox for what he really is. But it’s only a fleeting glance, too quick for your human eyes to notice, and Daichi parts ways, subtly nodding to the fox who’s currently laying on your feet before waving goodbye to you, leaving Kita and you alone once again. Well, maybe not that alone, you think, as a group of familiar foxes come racing towards the both of you once Daichi is gone. 

Life is chaotic, in a good way, but chaotic nonetheless after that. It’s a new dynamic for all of you as you try to merge your two worlds and ways of life together. It no longer phases you when you see glimpses of naked men running here and there as they shift between their human and fox forms and you’ve learned to always have spare sets of clothing on hand to quickly throw their way when they do decide to take their human shape for a spin. Atsumu has finally stopped whining about not being allowed to sleep in your bed with you anymore after Kita had put him in his place and your face goes hot when you remember exactly what had transpired during that conversation. 

When you had found out they were shifters, you found yourself being a little more self-conscious and self-aware around them. It seemed unbecoming of a woman to be sharing the same bed or changing in front of foxes that turned into handsome men and soon Kita was the only one allowed in your bedroom. Atsumu had howled and complained the first night that Kita slipped into your bed next to you, demanding to also be let in, questioning why Kita was allowed to sleep with you, especially in his human form. And suddenly feeling like a parent who suddenly has to explain the birds and the bees to their child, you grow flustered, unsure how to broach the subject. But sensing your panic, a large hand gently grabbed your chin, turning you until you were facing the serious countenance that you’d come to love, and in front of the still wailing younger man, he had captured your lips in a searing kiss before pointedly looking at a suddenly silent Atsumu. 

“That’s why,” he had calmly said, but before he could even fully voice those two words, Atsumu had quickly retreated, closing the door behind him and leaving the two of you alone. 

The two of you had skirted around directly talking about what was going on between the two of you, but that kiss had officially sealed the deal and you both stay up late that night, talking about your future life together, as his mate, as your boyfriend and it seems like unsurprisingly, Atsumu has run his mouth off and the whole pack is there waiting to congratulate you two on finally getting together the next morning. 

And now here you are, living in a recently expanded cabin, loud and full of bodies, both furry and human. You take a sip of your coffee, rolling your eyes as you hear the twins bicker, a slight smile on your face when you see Aran and Suna in their fox forms, napping on the couch, the others sprawled out here and there as they cook and eat breakfast. But it’s the strong arms that wrap around your waist from behind, the mouth stealing a sip from your piping hot mug before burying his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder that makes your heart flutter and you turn to kiss Kita, melting into his hold as you both survey your new family, your new home.   

[samthemarvelfan]

1000 followers!

I can’t believe we’re here! I am so excited to host a writing challenge for you guys!

This is such a big deal for me. I wanna say thank you to every single person who has followed and supported the silly little stories I write. You’ve brought me endless happiness and I can’t thank you enough!

Below the cut are the guidelines/rules/prompts to enter. I sincerely cannot wait to read your entries, guys!

Rules/FAQ:

1: While I’ve provided a list of songs to go off of, you absolutely don’t have to use one! Feel free to pick your own, just be sure to send me a message or ask letting me know the song you’ll be using.

2: You may write a drabble, one shot, or blurb. If your fic is over 500 words, please use the ‘read more’ feature.

3: You may write for any marvel character you choose! However, if your fic is 18+, I expect it to be explicitly stated that any and all characters in the fic are 18+ as well. (cough-cough…Peter Parker.)

4: I reserve the right to refuse entry for fics containing themes I don’t find acceptable. (i.e. i*cest, s*at play, w*terworks, or cr*ck fics) You may enjoy them, but they are not welcomed here.

5: All genres/tropes are allowed!

6: Please tag any and all potential triggers.

7: Remember to include which song you’re basing your fic off of, as well as the character you’re writing for! It does not have to be the title of the fic, but please include it somewhere, like in the author notes or chapter info.

8: Tag your submissions with #Scenes From A Song Challenge or #Sam’s Song Challenge

I’ll be reading and reblogging every single submission, as well as creating a masterlist when the challenge is over.

Send me an ask letting me know which song prompt you’re using! As people choose them, I’ll mark them off the list. Once a prompt is taken, it’s gone for good!

Remember this is your interpretation of the song! Whether it’s angst, fluff, smut, or a dark fic. If it’s enemies-to-lovers, lovers-to-enemies….I want to read whatever the song makes you feel, and whatever story it sparks you to create!

Please don’t hesitate to ask any questions! Also, please let me know if there is something I’m forgetting. As this is my first time doing this, I don’t expect to get it 100% right.

A guide to submit your entries is as follows: 

Name

Prompt

Character

Theme/Trope

Anything else you feel I should know?

happy writing!

Sam’s Scenes From A Song 1000 Follower Writing Challenge

start date: 10/25/21

end date: 12/25/21

Prompts:

Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi  @turbolisedcomet

Live Without Me by Halsey

No Tears Left to Cry by Ariana Grande

Into You by Ariana Grande

Breakup With Your Girlfriend by Ariana Grande

Leave Before You Love Me by The Jonas Brothers  @ktellmeastory​

No Judgement by Niall Horan

Slow Hands by Niall Horan

Black and White by Niall Horan

Water Under The Bridge by Adele

Someone Like You by Adele

Send My Love by Adele

All I Ask by Adele

Perfect by Ed Sheeran

Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran

Happier by Ed Sheeran

Only Angel by Harry Styles

She by Harry Styles

Sweet Creature by Harry Styles

Talk Dirty to Me by Poison

Same Mistakes by One Direction

Night Changes by One Direction

They Don’t Know About Us by One Direction

Amnesia by 5 Seconds of Summer

Call Out My Name by The Weeknd

Faithfully by Journey

Too Good At Goodbyes by Sam Smith

Like I Can by Sam Smith

I’m Not The Only One by Sam Smith  @ambrosiase

tagging a few lovelies to spread the word <3

@ambrosiase @buckys-darling​ @babyboibucky​ @whitestarbucky​

[brandywine-tomatoes]

Lightsaber Trials

Bad Batch Fluff

Prompt chosen by my wife @icedcoffee101

Masterlist

TW: arguing/bickering, a few dark implications here and there, ms. tano not leaving the jedi order, Ahsoka saving the day

Word count: 2163

Prompt/Inso: #4 from my list: Fun times with a lightsaber

QUICK NOTE: BSL stands for Basic Sign Language, and yes I made it up

--

“Why exactly are we giving our debriefings on Coruscant?” Crosshair asked, the question directed beside him at Hunter who was fiddling with a datapad. Something about booking landing zones?

“The Jedi want to meet us in person apparently,” Tech, who was bringing the Havoc out of hyperspace, answered instead.

“Haven’t we met them already?”

“It’s statistically impossible for us to meet-”

“I didn’t ask what was statistically impossible,” he sat forward in his seat. “I asked why we’re debriefing on Coruscant.”

“They ask squads to report to Coruscant whenever they feel it’s necessary,” Echo said from the co-pilot's chair.

“That must waste a lot of time,” Wrecker piped in from behind them all.

“The jedi just love to control everything,” Cross mumbled and sat back up, crossing his arms.

“I doubt you’d get away saying that around them.”

“Well then it’s a good thing we haven’t landed yet.”

“Will you ever stop being so condescending to authority?” Echo turned to face him.

“Guys,” Hunter interjected. “Enough.”

Echo rolled his eyes and turned back to help Tech land the ship.

“We have better things to do than meet the people who send us to die every day,” Cross wryly concluded. He got up and went to open the hatch. The bright Coruscant sun blinded him for a few seconds as he stepped out onto the tarmac, the rest of the batch following closely.

They lined up and stood at attention for the general approaching from the Jedi temple.

“At ease Clone Force 99, welcome to Coruscant,” Jedi General Plo Koon greeted them. “I assume you know why you’ve been called here.”

“Yes, general,” Hunter answered.

“There will be an evaluation of the mission's report and of course an extensive debrief...” Plo Koon went on about how the day would shape out for the batch and what was expected of them, Hunter nodding at every word beside him while the rest of the batch followed in their path.

“You’d think they’d be more efficient,” Crosshair mumbled to himself.

“Trust me, CT-9904, this is the most efficient and effective system for assessing clone squads,” Plo Koon turned to look at a flustered Crosshair.

He nodded and muttered an apology.

“Just through here, it won’t take an obscene amount of time I’m sure,” the general gestured to a doorway as they climbed the staircase of the temple.

---

“‘It won’t take an obscene amount of time’ he says. ‘This is the most efficient and effective system’ he says,” Crosshair complained on the way back to the Havoc.

The bustling city around the temple went on as the sun was crawling towards the horizon, casting a wave of deep orange over the little part of Coruscant. The clones walked wearily back to their ship, completely exhausted from the assessment and debriefing. The helmets under their arms were close to falling out of their grips as every step took more energy out of them.

“It could’ve been worse,” Wrecker tried to reason.

“Worse? What could’ve been worse than that!”

“Being court marshalled, decommissioned, reconditioned-” Echo started rhyming out, counting on his left hand.

“You know what I mean!” He threw his free arm in the hair.

Echo smirked. His favourite game was messing with Crosshair, it was just so easy, it was always an effortless achievement.

Tech was lagging behind the others, too busy sorting through his notes from the assessment on his datapad to contribute to whatever Echo and Cross were arguing about. Though, he wasn’t so tuned out that he missed the small cylinder his foot kicked. The metal tube made a small jostling sound as it rolled a couple feet away from Tech. He’d studied them enough to know what it was on sight. A lightsaber.

Not uncommon on temple grounds, but very uncommon just lying on the tarmac. Such a crucial part of the Jedi religion would never be left without its user nearby. He looked left, looked right, nothing but perfectly lined up ships on either side. No jedi to claim it, no general there to see him maybe...

He quickly picked it up and stuffed it in his satchel. What could happen? A Jedi would need to make another one, boohoo. They’ve made them for thousands of years, their stash wouldn’t deplete. The religion would survive, the temple would still stand, the war would go on. Who cares if he gets to study a lightsaber up close? He was becoming as giddy as a cadet. Who ever got to study a lightsaber other than their creators and the wielders?

As soon as they were in hyperspace, he whipped it out and started examining the intricate designs and mechanisms. Tech had fiddled with it for a solid couple of hours, trying to open up the hilt, before Wrecker noticed Tech had been weirdly quiet during their hyperspace trip.

“What is that?” He asked, pointing to it for emphasis.

Everyone turned to look at where Wrecker was pointing. Tech slowly raised his gaze from the small tool in his hand that was previously trying to pry open the hilt. His feet were on the seat, his eyes level with his knees and various small tools were balanced on them.

They stared at him, at first, with fear for their own skins. Then it turned to frustration. They all knew Tech wasn’t one to let go of something he wanted to study, but this definitely crossed a line.

“Tech,” Hunter said slowly, like he was coaxing a clanker into submission.

Tech sprang from his seat and darted down the Havoc, the rest of the Batch quickly following.

“Tech!”

He spun around and the green blade ignited from the hilt in his hand. Everyone jumped back immediately, hands held up in surrender. Tech practically threw it away from him in surprise. The polished dark metal hilt clattered to the ground and the green plasma retracted, leaving the crew in an adrenaline-filled silence.

Then all hell broke loose.

“What the absolute fuck were you thinking!” Echo yelled, not so much a question.

“It was just lying there!”

“You can’t just go around taking lightsabers whenever you damn well please!”

“But no one was using it-”

“We were at a Jedi fucking temple, Tech!” Echo threw his arms in the air.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” Wrecker tried reasoning.

“Really! He didn’t mean anything by it! Stealing a fucking lightsaber isn’t nothing!” Echo was fuming angry. “We could get in so much trouble, do you understand that!”

“Enough Echo, we all know how serious this is,” Hunter interjected.

“I don’t think you do!” He took a step towards Hunter, his fist shaking.

“Echo, they’ll know it’s a misunderstanding, it isn’t like they’re going to execute us,” he tried lightening the tension, but it seemed to only make it worse.

Echo looked at all of them with a dark look on his face. “You’re all lucky I have strings I can pull.”

“And what are those, exactly?” Crosshair smugly asked.

“I know people, and most of them own me favours.”

Echo dug through his belt of pouches to retrieve a single commlink.

“Oh yeah, we’re all saved,” Cross mumbled, walking back up the aisle to the cockpit, conveniently where the lightsaber was sitting.

“Rex, we have a problem,” he spoke into the comm, leaning against one of the bunks.

A few tension-filled seconds passed.

“Oh no, do I want to hear this?” Rex’s staticky voice filled the silence.

“Probably not, is Commander Tano with you?”

“Uh, yeah, hold on.”

The comm went silent for longer, everyone growing restless.

“Great plan, your reg Captain ditched you,” Cross said from the isle, no one noticing him examining the polished dark metal hilt.

“Echo? What’s up, what happened?” Ahsoka’s calm voice floated through the comm.

“You remember that place with the thing that one time and the promise you made?” Echo’s lips twitched up in amusement.

“Oh god, don’t remind me,” she groaned. “What do you need? How can I help?”

He gave Tech an irritated look. “Well, we accidentally stole a lightsaber-”

“Accidentally? How do you accidentally steal a lightsaber?”

“It’s a long story. Can you maybe just... I don’t know, work the force in our favour?”

She sighed fondly. “Who do I need to talk to?”

“I like her,” Wrecker tried to whisper.

Echo glared at him. “General Plo Koon.”

“I’ll holo him right now- oh wait, oh shit,” the crew heard Ahsoka ignite one of her lightsabers and deflect a couple blaster bolts. She shouted orders to Rex and the other clones who sounded like they were taking heavy fire.

“Slight inconvenience, I’ll have to holo him later. This won’t take long,” she shouted over the intense fire. “I’ll talk to you later Echo.”

The comm went silent and Echo looked worried sick.

“She’ll be fine, she’s a jedi. They don’t need anyone else’s help,” Crosshair bit out as he looked for the ignition button on the lightsaber.

“I guess- wait, Cross, what are you-”

The green sabre shot out, startling everyone except Crosshair who looked pleased with himself.

He spun it around in his right hand, getting used to the weight. “These are pretty cool.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Quit it Crosshair, they aren’t toys.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” he tried to spin it in front of him, doing a terrible imitation of the jedi.

“Cross-”

As soon as he tried to switch the blade to his left hand, the plasma sliced through the thin aiming plate attached to his shoulder. The thin plastoid plate clattered to the ground and everyone burst out laughing while Crosshair looked absolutely heartbroken, his gaze never leaving the sliced armour.

He pushed the button on the hilt and the blade retracted. The thick tension evaporated and everyone walked up the aisle to the cockpit, patting Cross on the shoulder and chuckling to themselves.

“Switching course back to Coruscant then?” Tech asked, amusement still edged in his voice.

Hunter took his seat behind Tech. “Let’s just hope Commander Tano keeps her promise."

---

“We are incredibly sorry for the inconvenience, it won’t ever happen again,” Hunter practically followed Plo Koon out the temple and into the gardens like a sad puppy. The Batch held in their chuckles at his behaviour, all of them purely relieved Ahsoka holoed him in time.

“There’s no inconvenience, Sargeant. The padawan who owns this sabre learned a valuable lesson.”

The group walked around a cement corner to see a little twi'lek sobbing, holding her face in her hands as another padawan had an arm around her shoulders.

“Sapher.”

Her head shot up and ran to the group, seeing her hilt in Plo’s hand.

“You know not to leave this lying around,” the general knelt on the cement.

She nodded profusely, stray tears dripping down her cheeks.

“You’ve learned your lesson, Sapher?”

She nodded again. The general offered her the blade and she snatched it up, overlooking it with a keen eye. Tech felt a little bad for the scratches he made in the metal while trying to pry it open.

The kid must’ve put 2 and 2 together to figure out the clones decked out in red and black armour were the ones who returned it. She started moving her hands and arms around in precise movements, trying to convey her thanks.

“Uh, Tech, do you know what she’s doing?” Hunter whispered.

“You don’t understand BSL?” Tech rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t survive a day without me. She says she’s eternally grateful and she’ll always be indebted to us in the simplest terms, she’s using quite advanced phrases I doubt you’d understand.”

The girl looked very pleased with herself at his compliment and signed something back to Tech. They conversed for a few seconds more before she handed him a small circular piece of matte metal. He signed a goodbye and she ran back to her friend to tell her all about her new allies.

“We best be going then,” Hunter said to Plo Koon. They bid their thank yous and goodbyes and soon enough, they were finally en route to their next mission without any detours.

“What was that disk she gave you?” Echo asked.

“A holo. For once, I think we have an ally amidst the jedi ranks.”

“A holo that small? Impossible.”

Tech smiled slightly. “Very limited production, I’ve only heard about them from comm chatter.”

“How touching,” Cross sarcastically added, fiddling with a toothpick between his lips.

“You’re just sour cause you don’t have a levelling plate anymore,” Echo chuckled, turning his attention back to the controls.

“We’ll find someone to get it fixed,” Hunter cut in, not wanting another argument to break out.

“Fates forbid you don’t have the best sniper in the GAR watching your back.”

“From today's events, I’m not so sure I want you watching my back at all,” Echo jokingly mumbled.

Cross stood up. “Why you little-”

Hunter blew a fuse. “Enough already!”

--

A/N: This took so much fuc-fricking time to write!! I thought it was gonna be maybe 500, maybe 700 words, but I ended up with a 2000 word fic. Life just does that to you ig.

ANYWAYS, I hope y'all liked it, I loved writing that little Rex and Ahsoka cameo. I do want to note that this is after they rescued Echo from the Techno Union, but it's many months before the events of the Seige of Mandalore. It's also kinda a fix-it fic?? I wanted to bring ahsoka in and I was just so excited to do so that I forgot she wasn't part of the order during this time... WHOOPS

(Don't forget to drink some water right now and go eat a snack, you deserve it so much bestie ❤️❤️)

[mummybear]

The Babysitter

This Is Day Four Of Roleplay May 

Words: 4763

Warnings: Smut (Obviously), Oral Male And Female Receiving (Sharing Is Caring And All), 

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Reader, Mentions On “The Wife”, Mentions Of The Kids And Some Random Ex Boyfriend. Think that’s it really.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: Right so I just wanna say this is my first ever Jensen Fic, so please be gentle. Also nothing is meant against anyone in the Fic, it is simply Fanfiction in which this is the idea :) Cheating, Hair Pulling,  Squirting, Angry Sex Biting, Begging, Orgasm Denial.... I mean honestly the list goes on.....

Summery: Being the babysitter for the Ackles family had been nothing but a pleasure, but when Jensen comes home from work in a bad mood the reader finds out just how much her boss loves her short skirts and despises her ex boyfriend showing up at his house.

The front door slams open and you can’t help but flinch where you sit on the couch, the sound echoing through the large halls of the house. There was only one person it could be, with the kids’ mother being away on business. However, Mr. Ackles hadn’t been in the best of moods when he’d left for work this morning. Now you thought about it, he’d been in a terrible mood for days. 

Luckily the kids were in bed, fast asleep. So you only hoped that he hadn’t woken them up. 

Slipping out of the living room, you head towards the front door, where you find him kicking off his boots and hanging up his coat. He doesn’t speak, so neither do you, deciding it might be best that way.

The thing about Jensen Ackles was the type of man he was. There was no getting away from it, not even for the babysitter of his kids. He was tall, strong and just god damn gorgeous. With the most incredible heart and personality. A laugh that never failed to make you smile, not to mention the fact he had the greenest eyes you’d ever seen. 

However, there was also the other side of him. A side that not many people had the chance to see, you had seen it once, a long time ago. But tonight, tonight was different.

You quickly make your way into the kitchen, feeling his eyes on your back as you walk away from him. But you know it’s best to stay out of his way, especially when he’s like this. Mr. Ackles was definitely still pissed off, maybe even more so than he had been this morning. That much you could tell from his body language alone. 

You busied yourself with making him a coffee, hoping that he wouldn’t snap at you. You were seriously beginning to get worried that he knew about your visitor a few nights ago.

“Where are the kids?” he asks suddenly, his voice much louder than you’d expected, which makes you jump, even more so when he leans over you, taking the coffee you’d made him. Your entire body stiffens until he steps back, you’re not sure he’d ever been that close before and you could definitely smell the alcohol lingering on his breath as it ghosted across your cheek. Then again you didn’t hate it at all.

“T-They’re in bed Mr. Ackles. Sir” you tell him half stuttering your reply, ignoring how close he’s still standing, you try and find something to keep you busy on the counter.

“Turn around and look at me Y/N” he demands in a firm tone that leaves no room for argument. 

You turn to face him, but you can’t look him in the eyes, so instead you focus on his chest as you fiddle with the hem of your t-shirt. Swallowing hard, you grip your t-shirt tighter, when his arms fold over his broad chest. 

Sensing he’s getting impatient you finally look up, meeting his eyes and god he looks so good. He’d been on several interviews and photo shoots today. He had dark jeans on, a dark blue suit jacket and a blue shirt and tie, he practically oozes authority and commands attention.

“Is everything okay?” you ask him quietly, your voice just barely above a whisper.

Jensen rubs his hand across his face, gently scratching at the stubble along his jaw as the muscle beneath clenches. He takes another step towards you, nerves get the better of you and you step back. Which causes your back to bump into the cupboard behind you. Placing his hand beside your head on the cupboard, focusing his intense gaze back on you. 

“Do you really think that I don’t have cameras all over my house Y/N? Inside and out. That I don’t see everything you do? Everyone you invite over” his voice is that much quieter as he leans in closer, but you can still tell that he’s beyond angry.

And fuck he knows, it’s the only reason he would be bringing this up right now. 

“Mr. Ackles, please just let me explain. I don’t know how much you were able to see, but please I-” he cuts you off with a shake of his head, you stop talking immediately, clamping your mouth closed as you wait for him to say something.

“How about you just keep your pretty little mouth shut darlin’. You know, try being a good girl for a change, if you can manage that” his tone of voice is really beginning to do something to you, even if he’s snapping at you. But with the things he’s saying, it’s starting to make you feel things that you shouldn’t, want things that you’re not allowed.

You watch as his finger hooks into the top of his tie, roughly pulling it loose and pops the top button. Chewing your lip you give a small nod as your wordless reply. Finally, you can’t take anymore and look away from him, focusing back on your feet. His eyes are far too intense and you feel like a moth being drawn to flame.

“Good. Now since you do know how to listen. Tell me, who was the guy you were kissing in the back yard the other day?”

He still hasn’t raised his voice, yet somehow, that only un-nerves you that much more. Fiddling with your hands you swallow the lump in your throat, your nerves over losing your job are beginning to get to you. Opening and closing your mouth a few times, you wonder if your reason will be enough to calm him down and stop him firing you. 

Suddenly his large hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him again. Your mouth is so dry, he holds you there with his hand and his darkened green eyes.

“You better answer me, Y/N” he demands, his voice substantially louder and firmer than before.

Licking your lips you try to get your breathing under control, gripping your skirt tightly.

“I uh, I’m s-sorry Mr. Ackles. He followed me t-to work, I broke up with him m-months ago. He just won’t take no for an answer. I swear to you, I-I was just trying to get him to leave,” you reply quickly, your voice wavering and shaking the entire time.

“Why’d you break up with him, Y/N?” Jensen asks, a slight smile curving at the edge of his lips as he releases your jaw, letting his fingers just barely brush down the column of your throat. 

The question takes you by complete surprise. What strikes you even more is the look in his eyes and you can’t look away. “I don’t understand. Why do you want to k-” your voice cuts out with a surprised gasp, right as Jensen straightens up so he’s looking down at you even more than before, pressing his body that much closer to yours.

“Don’t tell me. I’ll guess” his tone is completely cocky. “He didn’t hit the right spots huh? Wasn’t he man enough for you baby girl?” he smirks when the quietest breathy moan slips past your lips, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Your skin is tingling all over, the heat is quickly pooling between your thighs and you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to. You’re currently losing the fight with your common sense, you know this is all kinds of wrong. You just don’t have it in you to care. He’s like the drug you just can’t get enough of.

“Something like that” you reply just barely above a whisper.

“You need a real man to show you just how to control this perfect body. Someone who can make you scream, make you beg for more,” his husky whisper just loud enough for you to hear, as his fingers trace the smooth skin peeking out just above your skirt.

Without even realising it you lean into his touch, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip, feeling the throbbing between your legs increasing with his every word. Begging yourself not to let that word slip past your lips. You’re so turned on right now, it’s taking everything you have to hold yourself back, but the submissive in you needs him to make the first move. Swallowing hard you nod,“I do. Need it so bad, but you’re married” the second the last words slip past your lips you swallow hard, clearly your conscience has got the best of you.

He licks his lips seemingly biting his tongue as he bends down eye level with you, that intense green eyed gaze focused back on you.

“Oh don’t worry about her. I’ve been told by a good source, she’s got her hands very full this weekend, with her friend or co-worker. We haven’t fucked in months” he tells you honestly, trying to keep his voice calm, but you can hear the anger behind his words.

You reach out and give his shoulder a gentle squeeze without even thinking, “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that” you tell him as calmly, dropping your hand back at your side when he shrugs.

“Forget about it, I am” he assures you, giving you that panty dropping wink. “Now that’s out of the way, where were we?” he asks seductively, his eyes flicking down to your lips then back up to focus on your eyes.

“I think that’s probably up to you, Mr. Ackles” you reply playfully, biting back your smirk when he chuckles in reply.

“You really think you can handle me baby girl?” he asks with a grin, ducking down a little lower, resting a hand beside your head, while the other one pushes your hair off your shoulders.

You shake your head, licking your lips, finally letting your eyes drop to his pink plump lips.

“No. But I know you can handle me. Keep me under control, make me beg for more” you tell him practically moaning the last word. You suck in a breath when he leans in close, the tip of his nose brushing your cheek.

“Oh I know just what you need darlin’. Thank fuck, because I am sick and tired of pretending that I don’t want you on your knees, begging for my cock” he practically growls. You cry out as his hand fists in your hair, roughly tugging your head back. “Ah ah ah, be a good girl. Keep it down, don’t make daddy gag the babysitter” he groans hearing your desperate whimper, knowing he’d hit a button with that one. 

His lips roughly press against yours, wrapping his free arm around your waist when your legs threaten to give way beneath you. Grabbing at his suit jacket you pull his body closer as his tongue runs across your lips. 

Your tongue quickly meets his, stoking the fire building between your legs when he takes complete control. Pulling away suddenly, he drags those perfect white teeth over your bottom lip. You breathlessly look up at him with hooded eyes, he looks right back at you, with a look in his eyes like he’s about to devour you.

Jensen’s fingers tighten in your hair as soft lips and sharp teeth make their way down your neck, pausing every now and then to suck marks into your skin. You cling to his jacket as his hand drags slowly up the back of your thigh, slipping beneath your skirt he grabs your ass roughly, unable to stop the roll of your hips as he pulls you closer.

His raspy voice is in your ear again, those soft lips caressing you.

“I bet you wear these little skirts just to tease me don’t you? Dirty girl. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much shorter they are when it’s just me around” 

He releases your hair and drops his hand from your body, taking your small hand in his much larger one, you follow him as he leads you into the living room. 

Closing the door he locks it, the baby monitor on the side remains quiet as he leads you into the middle of the room. You swallow hard as this gorgeous giant of a man looms over you, fingers pushing beneath your thin t-shirt. Pushing the material up your body, his big warm hands that never leave your skin. You lift your arms as he tugs the t-shirt over your head.

“Jensen please, I want your cock” you moan as those long fingers drag over your rib cage teasingly.

His chuckle is low and deep, tongue pressed to the back of his teeth. You suddenly realise that’s the first time you’ve ever used his first name, he doesn’t seem to mind, in fact it seems to have the opposite effect..

“Oh, do you baby. Then be a good girl, get on your knees. Beg for it” the second those husky words leave his plump lips you drop down onto your knees at his feet. Staring up at him like he was the only thing in the universe, resting your hands on his strong thighs. The massive bulge in his jeans practically makes your mouth water. Jensen takes off his suit jacket and tosses it over the arm of the chair, before his darkened green eyes settle back on you once more.

“I’ll be a good girl, please Mr Ackles. Fuck my mouth, just wanna make you feel good.” You beg the older man above you, rolling your hips down into nothing.

You wait on baited breath as Jensen tugs open his belt without a word, you sit up higher on your knees, licking your lips when he pops the button open and pulls down the zip. His thumbs tuck in the sides of his jeans and boxers, he pushes them down to his knees with a few rough shoves. 

Allowing his cock to spring free. You can’t help but suck in a breath and lean in closer when he wraps his long fingers around his thick length, you’re moaning please all over again. He pumps his cock up and down with a firm grasp and you can feel your slick starting to leak through your panties, he’s even bigger than you’d first imagined.

“Look at you, my cock hungry little slut. So fuckin’ perfect. Open up baby girl” he practically growls, tapping the swollen tip against your parted lips. 

You do as you’re told, his words shooting straight to your throbbing pussy. Your mouth open and tongue waiting, you moan as soon as the tip touches your tongue, pre-come leaking freely the heady taste as you close your lips around him. Jensen groans above you, his hands fisting at both sides of your hair, wrapping the thick tresses around his hands.

Swirling your tongue around the swollen tip, you feel his grip tightening, taking him further into your mouth, your tongue dragging along the underside, following that thick throbbing vein.

You whimper when he tugs harshly and thrusts his hips.

“Look at me” he grunts thrusting again, you gag a little but manage to control it, looking up and locking your eyes on those dark green almost black eyes. “So fucking good for me” he moans when you hollow your cheeks and try to relax your throat.

Your fingers dig into your thighs when he thrusts again, forcing himself further down your throat , the noise he makes is so fucking sexy, you loose his eye contact when he throws his head back and moans your name. You can feel the heat rising across your skin, clenching your thighs you can feel the coil in your stomach tightening. 

Your moaning around him as he starts a steady rhythm, hips snapping against your face, saliva mixed with his pre-come leaking from the sides of your lips. You’re so close to coming, with the noises he’s making, the feel of him deep down your throat, hands fisting in your hair. You gasp when he finally pulls out of your mouth and throat, gulping down air as he fists his cock at the base.

“Was that okay?” you ask as innocently as possible, your voice hoarse and breathy.

He grabs your arm, hauling you up off the floor, his hands are tight on your arms as he pulls you into a bruising kiss. His lips leave yours all too quickly. You stumble back with a smirk, seeing that devilish look on his face as he stalks towards you. Jensen shoves you gently, until the back of your legs connect with the sofa and you fall back onto it, looking up at him expectantly from beneath your eyelashes.

He remains quiet as he unbuttons his shirt and drops it to the floor, revealing that perfect tanned freckled skin that’s hidden beneath. You lick your lips as he gets closer, he’s fucking gorgeous. The last thing to go is the tie which is dropped by your foot.

“You know damn well that was more than okay, nearly came down your throat” he half chuckles when you have to bite back a grin. However, that quickly turns into a moan when the front of your plaid skirt flicks up.

“Gotta taste that pretty pussy baby girl” he rasps, kicking off his jeans.

You cry out when he tugs your ankles so that your ass is hanging almost off of the sofa. He presses a finger to those plump lips of his before he drops to his knees, making quick work of pulling your panties off, throwing them over his shoulder. You go push down your skirt but he stops you. Unyielding grip on your wrist. 

“No. That stays on darlin’. You wore it to wind me up, so now you can leave it on” he tells you as he licks up one of your inner thighs, groaning when your slick hits his tongue. “Walking around like a dirty school girl, now you can fucking act like one”

You whimper as he roughly suckles at your inner thigh, dragging his teeth across the skin, before moving higher and doing the same.

“I’m s-sorry, please I-” you’re cut off when his tongue moves through your slick folds, you slam a hand over your mouth as he groans into your pussy, that thick perfect tongue pushing inside you. You roll your hips into his face and he slaps your thigh, but that just shoots straight to your throbbing pussy as two thick fingers circle your clit.

You do it again, begging for more behind your hand. This time however he isn’t so forgiving. When he  pulls his face away you whine a pathetic apology, which quickly turns into a scream of pleasure and pain as he slaps your pussy lightly, three times in a row.

“You don’t get to fuck my face baby, you’re not in charge here. Take what you’re fucking given, am I clear” he growls, pushing your legs up and making you hold them back. 

You nod quickly, nails digging into your legs, feeling two of his thick fingers circling your opening. 

“Yes Jensen. I’ll be good. Fuck please” you beg, eyes practically rolling into the back of your head when pushes those fingers inside you slowly. 

“Fuck baby girl, such a tight little pussy” he moans lowering his lips again, so his breath ghosts over your clit. You can’t arch against him like you want to, you just have to lay back and take it. His tongue flicks out and you can’t help but whine freely, with no hand to hold in your noises now.

 “Only ever been with one guy and your cock twice as big” you pant trying to catch your breath. Your voice comes out a little more worried than you’d have liked it to.

“Don’t worry baby, gonna make you come so hard. This little pussy is gonna fit my cock like a god damned glove by the time I'm done with you” the last part of his promise is muffled as his lips close around your clit, tongue flicking back and forth over the bundle of nerves in time with the rough fast movements of his fingers.

You quickly feel your orgasm approaching, like a freight train hurtling down the track. Your pussy flutters around his fingers as he curls them, repeatedly stroking at that spot that makes your legs shake and your head fuzzy. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” you cut yourself off as your orgasm hits hard, your body goes tense beneath him, but he doesn’t stop or slow down.

“Fucking give it to me baby girl, you can do it. I can feel it” he commands before returning his lips and tongue to your clit, applying a little extra pressure with his fingers on every thrust.

You look down at him, eyes lidded barely able to keep them open, he’s watching you when your eyes meet, dark green eyes locked on your face. Your thighs shake and all you can do is gasp for air and cling to your own legs, your stomach burns and you feel like every nerve ending is sparking at once. Jensen groans into you when a wet squelching sound fills the room. 

“Oh! Oh god!” you scream, dropping your legs back onto his shoulders as your body arches uncontrollably, your hand flying to cover your mouth, the other grabs the top of his head trying to push him away, as your entire body shudders. He doesn’t budge, but he does slowly remove his fingers, licking his way down your thighs following the lines of your slick.

“Fuck that was so hot baby, don’t tell me I’ve broken you already” Jensen grins, winking when he finally pulls your legs from his shoulders and stands. All you can do is smile back, whimpering when you move at the sensitivity between your legs.

He holds out his hand for you, which you take gratefully. He pulls harder than you’d expected, so that you’re crushed against his chest, gripping your hair he pulls your lips to his. You run your hands over his chest as your tongues slide perfectly against one another, making sure you touch everything you’ve never touched but always wanted to. 

Your ass bumps into the side of the sofa and Jensen stops, suddenly pulling away from your lips, you barely have time to catch the smirk on those plump lips. He spins you quickly so your back is pressed against his solid chest, hand wrapping around your throat gently as his lips press to your ear. 

“You still want my cock baby? Still want me to fuck you until you can’t walk” he asks deep and husky voice, washing over you like a hot shower, as his fingers flex around your throat.

“Fuck yes. Want you to fucking ruin me, Mr. Ackles” 

That seems to be the last straw, with a growl he pushes you forward roughly, until you fall over the arm of the sofa. He kicks your legs apart and takes hold of his cock, running it through your wet pussy, hearing you mewl beneath him, pushing back against him. He pauses when the head of his cock presses against your opening.

“Is this what you want baby?” he asks in a gravelly voice making you shiver.

“God yes! Please!” you whimper into the cushion under your face.

“Spread those cheeks for me baby, let me see you” he asks, breathing out slowly when he slips inside you a little further. “Wanna see every time my cock slips inside that tight little pussy” he growls pushing in another inch, you comply immediately, reaching back you grip your ass, spreading your cheeks for him, the curve of your back pushing you closer to him.

Suddenly his hips snap forward, filling you completely luckily your drawn out moan is completely muffled by the sofa cushion. Your nails dig into your ass cheeks as he pulls out almost all the way and roughly thrusts himself back inside, pushing the sofa forward with the force.

“Oh fuck! Look at you. All mine” he grunts possessively, repeating the action a little quicker again and again, your hands slip from your ass and push underneath you, holding yourself up.

“Put your fucking hands back Y/N” Jensen demands slapping your ass roughly, as the other fists in your skirt, pulling you back against him,

“I-I can’t” you cry out again as he slams forward, hips slapping hard and bruising against your ass.

“Fine” there’s a pause as he stills behind you. Bending down awkwardly, he grabs his discarded tie, roughly yanking your arms back from under you, he pulls your wrists together resting them on your ass. Tightly securing the tie around them, he tugs making sure it’s tight enough. “There. Get out of that” he grunts through that dark chuckle, picking his pace up, until your mouth drops open in a silent scream.

His thrusts are brutal and unforgiving and you’ve never felt more in heaven in your life.

“J-Jensen, I’m gonna c-” he cuts you off with another harsh slap to your ass.

“No. You’re gonna hold it baby girl, you’ll wait until I tell you. Call it punishment for movin’ your hands” he snaps with another powerful slap to your ass. 

You gasp through a moan, feeling your walls clenching every time he pulls you back onto his cock, while he continues fucking into your tight wet heat. Your head is spinning, pussy throbbing around his thick length, feeling every ridge against your inner walls. 

Your nails are digging harshly into your palms, as he continues to rail into you at an inhuman pace that has your legs shaking. Jensen grips onto his tie forcing your body off of the sofa, you’re trying so hard to hold back your orgasm, but you can feel that familiar feeling from earlier, heating back up in your stomach and you know you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to.

“Jensen. I’m gonna do it again! Please, I can’t stop it” you scream, clamping your mouth shut, biting into your lip harshly to try keep your noise down.

Jensen whimpers as your walls clamp down around his cock violently, his balls draw up and he has to grit his teeth.

“Do it, my dirty little slut. Fuckin’ squirt for me baby” 

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, feeling Jensen’s come fill you full, even leaking down your thighs. With sweat soaking your skin, your orgasm hits so powerful that it forces Jensen's cock from inside you. You’re practically sobbing when it stops, shaking violently you faintly feel him undoing your wrists before he pulls you back against his chest, those strong arms wrapped around your body holding you up. Your head drops back onto his shoulder as he gently sucks and licks at your neck, teeth softly scraping over your skin. 

“I gotcha baby, you’re okay” he murmurs against your skin, his voice like honey.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re something else Mr. Ackles” you giggle as he turns you in his arms to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Finally pushing your fingers into his thick hair when he kisses you, both of you capturing each other's moans. The easy eager slide of his tongue against yours is just what you need, he pulls away with a gentle sigh brushing his fingers through your hair.

“You have no idea how much I needed that baby girl, you were fucking perfect” he winks with that panty dropping smile.

“You have no idea, Jensen. You were even better than I thought you’d be” You giggle at the look on his face. “Yes I’ve thought about it” you confirm, gently slapping his chest when he wiggles those eyebrows at you.

“Me too, a lot” he chuckles when you blush.

“So, I guess I should get going” you smile, swallowing the nerves and the worry of this being awkward as well as the fact you may have lost your job. On the account of you fucking your boss.

“Oh no you don’t. We have a lot to talk about young lady, specifically earlier” he pauses watching the confusion crossing your face. “So, you like the sound of daddy gagging the babysitter, yeah?” he grins when your blush turns from pink to red and you shift awkwardly. Jensen presses just under your chin getting you to meet his eyes again.

Biting your lip you nod. “Say it.” he tells you rough hand gripping your ass beneath your skirt.

“Yes daddy” you breathe out just above a whisper. 

Tags:  Bold wouldn’t tag guys sorry!! I’ll try adding you to the commentss after!! @chewie-redbird @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective​ @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @holyhellpit @desireepow-1986 @emichelle @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @deanwanddamons @simsadventures  @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @fandom-princess-forevermore @flamencodiva @hobby27 @akshi8278 @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967 @screechingartisancashbailiff @maddiepants @spnfanfic-reblogs @holylulusworld @mrswhozeewhatsis @sonofabringmesomepie @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @hhiggs @pisces-cutie @heartsaved @matsumama @trina44sb

Pond Taglist: @aprofoundbondwithdean​ @manawhaat​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​  @nichelle-my-belle​ @notnaturalanahi​ @deanscarlett​ @roxy-davenport​ @impala-dreamer​ @samsgoddess​ @frenchybell​ @scorpiongirl1​  @deandoesthingstome​ @deansleather​ @curliesallovertheplace​ @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname​ @waywardjoy​ @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious​ @kayteonline​ @supernatural-jackles​ @wevegotworktodo​ @quiddy-writes​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @supermoonpanda​ @deanwinchesterforpromqueen​ @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog​ @memariana91​ @plaidstiel-wormstache​ @teamfreewill-imagine​ @chelsea-winchester​ @becs-bunker​ @castieltrash1​ @supernaturalyobessed​ @ruined-by-destiel​ @winchester-writes​ @evilskank-inthemegacoven​ @maraisabellegrey-blog​ @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder​ @bennyyh​ @clueless-gold​ @deanwinchesterxreader​ @winchester-family-business​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @just-another-winchester​ @cas-backwards-tie​ @winecatsandpizza​ @firefly-in-darkness​

[torchwoodfanfests]

Step-by-step guide on how to participate in the Bingo Fest: a manual for the uninitiated

As there may be people who have never participated in a fandom event like this before, we thought we’d provide you all with a step-by-step guide you can refer to throughout the fest in case you have difficulty figuring any of it out.  

This post will walk you through how to sign up and participate in our current fest, but if you have any further doubts don’t hesitate to ask us :)

Step 1: sign up

The first thing you need to do to participate is to go to this google form to sign up. Signups will be open from June 25th to July 31st. All that we require is a way to contact you (like an email or your tumblr url) so we can send you your bingo card. Once you’ve done that, you’ll receive your card shortly and can start creating!

Step 2: the bingo card

Here is an example of what the bingo card will look like:

As you can see, the cards will be 5x5 with a total of 25 prompts. After you read all the prompts, consider which one(s) you’d like to use as inspiration. Some people start with whichever prompt inspires them, some try to find which line of prompts they like the best (remember you get bingo by completing a straight line of 5 prompts, horizontally, vertically or diagonally). Some even attempt to complete the entire bingo card!

Once you decide which prompt(s) you’ll use, get started on your writing and/or art! You can combine different prompts for one piece or make one fanwork for each. For example, you can use the prompts ‘family’ and ‘prequel’ in one work. Remember that for this fest we set a minimum word count of 500 words per prompt for written fanworks, so if you choose to combine prompts into one fic, the minimum word count adds up (if you choose to combine ‘prequel’ and ‘family’, that’s 2 prompts, so that fic should have at least 1000 words; if you choose to combine ‘prequel’, ‘family’ and ‘torchwood one’ into one fic, the word count should be at least 1500 words, and so on). There is no maximum word count.

Artists can combine as many prompts into one piece as they want, but the total number of individual art pieces we require for bingo is three fanworks (can be a mix of different types of art). Participants can also combine writing and art as their submissions to get bingo.

For fanvideos and video edits you need a minimum of 30 seconds per square to fill the prompt. Prompts can be combined, and there is no maximum length. For playlists and tracklists, you need at least 3 tracks per prompt, plus a few lines of text to tell the story you’re putting together. This explanation can be written however you want, it can read like a summary of the story, like not!fic, like a short drabble, or you can just say why you picked the songs (e.g. “I picked this song because this lyric fits how this character was feeling when X happened”, or “this song illustrates this character’s opinion about Y”). As usual, prompts can be combined, and there is no maximum length.

Let’s use the sample bingo card to give you some examples of what completing a line might look like.

Note: for the prompt squares that have more than one option separated by slashes (like “plants/vegetables”) you need to use only one of them, the slash stands for “or” in this case.

Example 1: vertical line bingo (writing)

Fic #1: bed sharing, 650 words

Fic #2: rarepair + meet the family, 1000 words

Fic #3: torchwood one, 1400 words

Fic #4: the hub goes on lockdown, 520 words

In this case, each fic reaches the minimum word count of 500 words per prompt, as you can see. This could also look like one fic of at least 2500 words which hits all the prompts. More on posting after a few more examples.

Example 2: diagonal line bingo (art)

Art piece #1: bed sharing, moodboard

Art piece #2: crossover+undercover, digital painting

Art piece #3: family, edit

Art piece #4: plants/vegetables, digital painting

This example has one piece that combines two prompts, and three pieces for single prompts. With a total of four pieces, this counts as bingo (minimum for art submissions is a total of three if all your fanworks are art).

Example 3: horizontal line (writing+art)

Fic #1: torchwood one+prequel, 1200 words

Fic #2: family, 2000 words

Art #1: dancing, traditional drawing

Art #2: andy davidson, 30-second video

This example combines different types of fanworks and clears all the requirements (at least 500 word count per prompt and more than three pieces total).

Sidenote: if you’re having trouble thinking of what to do with a prompt, a good way to come up with ideas is to crowdsource the brainstorming process! Post about it on your blog asking for suggestions, ask a friend, discuss it in groupchats with other fans, or send us an ask for some suggestions.

Remember, you don’t have to go with the most obvious interpretation of a prompt, trope subversion and creative interpretations are welcome here! You got ‘mpreg’ but don’t want to get into an mpreg story? Write about Jack mentioning how there’s a humanoid alien race where men are the ones who get pregnant! Or have him make a comment about a male friend of his from the 51st century who carried a child. Or have any male character have a dream about being pregnant, whether that’s possible for them or not (and this is Torchwood, so nothing is quite impossible). Take the prompt and twist it into something you like!

Step 3: posting your works!

Once you start completing some fanworks, you can post them at any point for the duration of the fest (June 25th to August 25th). While you do not have to post them as you make them and could wait until the last day, we do not recommend that as we foresee there will be more people finishing some works at the last minute and so it’ll be easier for your fanworks to get attention if you post them early.

The posting process is simple: you need to post your work on your own tumblr first. This post needs to have: 1) the fanwork or a link to the fanwork, and 2) any relevant content warnings (check our list of mandatory content warnings here). Please note that anything that requires a content warning (including sexually explicit content) should be under a cut.

For fic, we recommend that you share some information in order to give potential readers an idea of what it’s about (title, summary, rating, prompt, and you can add an author’s note or more details if you want), and if you post to ao3, you should add it to our ao3 collection! You can do this when you first post it (or go back to edit later) under ‘Associations> Post to Collections / Challenges’, where you simply have to type torchwoodbingo2021 and select our collection. Art and fanvids can also be posted to ao3 and added to the collection!

Step 4: submitting your work for us to reblog

After you post your fanwork to your tumblr, you need to copy the link of the post and submit it to this google form so we can reblog it. We will not reblog posts that don’t have the appropriate content warnings so please be sure to warn as needed.

Step 5: creating your masterpost (optional)

Once you’re done with the fest, whether you’ve managed to get bingo or not (or, if you’re very ambitious, if you’ve cleared the entire card), we would recommend that you make a masterpost with all the works you’ve made for this fest. This is not required, but it’s very satisfying and it’s a good way to look back on what you’ve accomplished and to promote your fanworks again :)

Like the examples above, the typical masterpost would have your bingo card (with the prompts you’ve used marked in some way) and a list of your fanworks with links to each of them and which prompt they fill.

You can submit this masterpost to the same google form as above and we will reblog it as well :)

And that’s it!

If you have any further questions, you can send them here and we will try to answer them as soon as possible.

We hope this post helps clear some doubts about how the fest works and that we get as many people involved as possible ^_^

[vanilladyfics]

Fighting Fate - Ch 1

Read Chapter Two

Ship: Sir Nighteye x GN!Reader

Genre: Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Office Romance

Warnings: Suicide Themes, Slight Sexuality, Yandere if you squint

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note:  I needed to get this out of my head so I can focus on other projects.  This story takes place after Eri’s rescue where nothing bad happened.

Summary: Nighteye’s quirk predicts his assistant will die before the night’s end, but he’s not about to accept fate this time around.

Do not repost.

-----

Mirai Sasaki was a hero first, man second.  His greatest strength as a hero came not from his precognition, but his control.  A control that, lately, has been slipping.  As a general rule, Sasaki only used his quirk for his hero work.  He only had one shot at it a day, so to waste it on something personal would not only be unprofessional, but could put himself and the people he had sworn to protect at risk should an emergency arise.  And yet, he wanted to use it on you.

Sasaki had no problem with you when you first started as his assistant.  Sure, there were times you needed to be reminded to smile, and his jokes didn't always land with you (which was on you-- his delivery was flawless), but everyone had those days.  Midnight was partially to blame.  Her recent jokes about his tickle torture machine being used for foreplay had been fresh in his mind the first time you needed it to be reminded to smile.  Sasaki had dismissed her comments easily enough.  There was nothing inherently sexual about tickling someone into submission with their hands bound above their head, helpless and vulnerable.  Their hysterical laughter turning into gasps and pants as they struggled for air.  Thighs clamped tightly together as they desperately tried to avoid wetting themselves, begging for release.

Then he put you in those cuffs, saw you writhe against the machine, and he understood.  Seeing you thrash about, pulling against your restraints, your shirt coming untucked from your waistband as you struggled, Sasaki felt... something.  He turned the machine off in a panic the moment he diagnosed what he was feeling.  Kayama was right, and he was a fool.

He hadn't put anyone in the machine since.  He considered taking it down and retiring it all together, but it served as an effective warning that his office would be full of smiles.  Still, he couldn't look at it the same way-- couldn't look at you the same way. He barely looked at you at all, actually.  Each time he did, his mind went to unprofessional places.  He made a point not to treat you any differently from his other employees.  He bought flowers.  Not for you.  For the office. It just happened that the logical place for them was on the front desk-- your desk.  The treats in the break room you liked weren't for you, but for the team.

Technically, Sasaki never instated a rule against dating subordinates.  He managed all of his employees directly, and never thought about any of them romantically, so the thought never occurred to him to implement one.  Asking out his assistant might be legal, but he morally couldn't put you in a position where you might fear for your livelihood.  The right thing to do would have been to get you a job somewhere else, wait until you were settled, and then make a move... but then you'd be so far away.

Sasaki couldn't stay in this limbo between courting and ignoring you forever.  He had a few options.  He could ignore the feelings, keeping you at arms length just to keep in his life.  He could throw all sense of propriety aside and ask you directly, risk losing you completely and forcing him to find a new assistant.  So he decided. If four-o-clock hit and he hadn't used his quirk for the day, he'd use it on you.  If he saw your future together, it was fate, morality and propriety be damned.  If you ended up with someone else, he would be a man step aside.

--

You winced at the pounding in your head, forcing yourself to smile despite the pain.  You couldn't let anyone see you frown in Sir Nighteye's Hero Agency.  The last time you did, you were stuck in that HR nightmare of a contraption until you nearly wet yourself in front of Sir Nighteye himself.  You flushed at the memory.  You needed to get out, and this new influx of emails only confirmed it: Job applications, for your position.  He had caught you looking down once and had been acting strangely ever since.  Now you know it's because he had been sneaking around trying to replace you. You double checked Mr. Sasaki's schedule before confirming the interview times for this first batch of applicants.  You should have seen it coming, but it still hurt to have to help pick out your own replacement.  You saw their resumes.  Many of them had a better education and more experience than you.  They'd be a much better fit at the agency.  They probably wouldn't have to pretend to be happy.

You checked the time.  Four-o-clock.  One more hour and you'd be free to go home and cry yourself to sleep.  You paused.  No.  You still had to pick up groceries, reach out to your doctor about these headaches and starting your medication again, and figure out how to respectfully decline this last arranged marriage meeting.  Somehow, you doubted “Sorry, I but I still have a thing for my boss even though he wants to fire me” was going to cut it.  You added 'apply for jobs' to your mental to-do list.

Mr. Sasaki walked in.  You plastered your best smile on your face to greet him.  “Good evening, sir!”  You would play ignorant.  If he wanted to be sneaky, so could you.

“Good evening, [Y/N].  How are you?”

“I'm doing well... Sir?”  He was looking you in the eye for the first time since the tickle incident.  It felt strange somehow. Serious.

He cleared his throat, pulling a business card from the inner pocket of his blazer.  “Make sure to update Edgeshot's contact information before you leave.”

Your fingers brushed against his as you accepted the card.  “Right away, sir.”

He looked in your eyes, and your future played out in his mind like a strip of film: The stranger harassing you on the train ride home, stepping over the candidacy pictures of potential suitors someone slipped under your door, answering a phone call and arguing until you hung up and threw the phone against the wall.  The tears. The bathtub.  And then...

Nothing.

“My office.  Now.”

Icy dread washed over you as he closed the door behind you.  Just how much had he seen?  You stood at attention under his unnerving gaze.  The man was as handsome as he was intimidating.

“Tell me what's going on.”

You floundered for an answer. “Just... work.”  His grip on your arm tightened.  You winced.  He had to know you were lying-- he clearly saw something in your future he didn't like.  You had to give him something.  “I went ahead and scheduled the interviews for the assistant position next week.  Thank you for my time here.  I'm sorry we weren't a better fit.”

Oh.

He let go of your arm.  He only put out that help wanted ad to be prepared in case you left the agency.  He should have considered your reaction when you found out.  Stupid.  So incredibly stupid.  He was usually so thorough.  Sasaki sat at his desk.  He needed to think, and he couldn't do that standing right next to you.  When he saw your timeline cut short, he never thought he might have contributed to it.  He could change the future.  Fix it.  He'd seen it done before.

“I'm not firing you.”

“It's okay.  I didn't take it personally,” you lied, reminding yourself to smile.  Always smile.

You clearly didn't believe him, but he couldn't bring himself to tell you why he was looking for a new assistant.  Now wasn't the time for a love confession.  How could today have gone so wrong? He needed a plan.

“What are your plans for this evening?”

Was he asking you to stay late?  You shrugged.  “Running errands.  Groceries.  Dinner.”  File for unemployment.  “Normal stuff.”

He nodded, threading his fingers together.  It didn't sound like you were planning on ending things tonight, but he wasn't an expert.  His hero work centered on fighting external threats, like villains or natural disasters, not civilians who were a danger to themselves.  He should let an expert take over, but could he really entrust you to a stranger?  Could he convince you to talk to a crisis center when you couldn't admit anything was wrong?  Would the shame push you over that edge?  And why were you still smiling?

He needed to buy time, and for that, you wouldn't be leaving his sight.  He looked into your future again, but it remained unchanged.  The last push seemed to be that phone call, but he couldn't make out who it was from.  It didn't matter. “Give me your phone.”

His tone brokered no argument, and you handed it over without hesitation.  His thumb brushed over the screen.  It was cracked.  Surely he was paying you enough to have it repaired or replaced outright.  Sasaki frowned, considering.  No phone meant no phone call.  No phone call meant no tears.

He snapped it in half.

“What the hell!?”  You rushed to take the broken pieces from him, but he held them tighter.

“I'll buy you a new one.”

“That's not the point!  It wasn't yours!”

“I need you to work overtime tonight. You are not to leave this building, is that understood?”

Fate could be rewritten.  Sasaki would ensure you made it through tonight, even if you ended up hating him for it.