#held onto this story for very long and decided to finally post it to thank yall for 900 followers mwehehe

[archiveikemen]

『 Tamed By The Villain in The Dark 』 Story Sale

Liam Evans

Content Warning: unprotected sex, anal sex?? depends on how you want to interpret it because it's very vague as usual

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Warnings and FAQ

Kate: Shall we try it blindfolded?

Liam: … Huh?

It was a quiet night where I could spend time with my beloved, without worrying about missions or being busy.

Liam was surprised by the idea I mustered the courage to bring up— the look on his face changed.

Liam: Did anyone… did Al put strange ideas into your head?

While I wasn't exactly chaste around Liam, I was rarely ever that bold either.

It seemed that Liam thought it was someone else who influenced me to suddenly suggest doing it blindfolded.

Kate: That’s not true. I thought of this on my own accord.

Liam: You did? But why… all of a sudden…

Liam: … Am I no longer enough for you?

All hints of emotion on his face instantly vanished and he firmly grabbed my shoulders.

Kate: Not at all! I’ve never thought that you’re not enough for me.

Liam: … Really? Then why?

Kate: Whenever we’re making love, whenever we kiss… whenever we touch, I’m always on the receiving end.

Kate: Sometimes, out of curiosity, I feel like I want to try something different on my end.

Liam: And that's why… you suggested doing it blindfolded?

Kate: Yes, because it’s painless and doesn’t require any special tools.

Liam: I- I see…

Liam finally relaxed his grip on my shoulders.

Kate: Let me ask again… what do you think? Shall we try playing with blindfolds?

Liam always treated me with extreme kindness, accepting every one of my wishes.

However, I didn't want him to agree to my suggestion just because I said it, but because he wanted it himself…

I took a peek at his facial expression, making sure I wasn't making him feel too pressured.

Liam: Since you suggested it, of course I’m all for it! Fufu… I’m a really lucky man.

Liam: Before I met you, I resorted to risky ways to satisfy my curiosity.

Liam: Now, it's you who satisfies me and keeps me alive. I’m very happy about that.

Liam: … I’ll always be grateful to you.

Liam whispered those words of gratitude and gently kissed me on the lips.

Liam: … So, who will be the blindfolded one?

Kate: I don’t mind either. Let’s go with whichever you want, Liam.

Liam: Hmm, I think I’d enjoy both, but…

Liam: Wouldn't you feel lost if I’m blindfolded?

Kate: That’s… that’s true.

It was easy to imagine my embarrassment getting in the way and spoiling the mood.

Liam: Then it’s settled! I’ll take the lead.

…

Liam: Is this too tight?

Kate: Nope, it’s fine.

We moved onto the bed and Liam blindfolded me with a handkerchief, securing it behind my head.

(The room isn't well lit at night, so being blindfolded really makes it look pitch black…)

Although I knew that Liam was close by, I felt a little anxious and reached my hand out searching for him.

Liam: I’m right here.

Liam’s soothing voice melted my anxiety away as he pulled my hand closer to him, and I felt a familiar smooth surface at my fingertips.

(This is… Liam’s face.)

Liam chuckled when I moved my fingers across his cheek like I was stroking a cat.

(... I wish I could see the look on his face right now.)

Even though I couldn't see, I could imagine his smile, but it just wasn't the same as seeing it.

We were only at the blindfolding stage, and yet I was already yearning for him. I inwardly laughed at myself.

Liam: Oh, right… I’m not going to do anything mean, but we should still decide on a safe word just in case.

Kate: A safe word…?

Liam: A word you can use to let me know if you don’t feel good or don't want me to do something.

(Right… he can’t read my facial expression as usual when I’m blindfolded.)

Kate: Then… let’s go with “hate”. It's a word I’ll never use with you, unless it’s something severe.

Liam: Okay. I’ll stop immediately if you say it.

Liam: … Although I might get so shocked, my heart stops beating.

Liam jokingly said with a smile, but I knew those words reflected his true feelings.

A single word from me was enough to end his life.

The weight of my words to him alone told me everything about how much he loved me.

(... But it’s mutual.)

A single word from him can end my life.

That was how I knew the depth of my love for him.

If I was to lose Liam, my world would lose its brightest star and fall into pitch darkness, just like being blindfolded.

Kate: — Liam.

Liam: Yeah, Kate?

In the darkness where I couldn't see, Liam’s voice sounded much more precious than ever.

Kate: … Please always be by my side.

Liam: Of course. I’m not going anywhere while you’re blindfolded.

My request wasn't only for the present moment, but also for the future. Liam was unaware of that.

It was enough for me that Liam, who once held no hope for the future, could make that promise.

Liam: Have you adjusted to being blindfolded? I’m going to lay you down now.

Liam placed on hand on my back for support as he gently lowered me onto the bed.

I felt glad he treated me with more tenderness than usual because I couldn’t see through the blindfold.

(I can never… trust anyone else with my body in the dark.)

I realised another thing I could only do with Liam, the man I loved and trusted more than anyone else.

The bed creaked as Liam got on top of me while slipping his hand underneath my clothes.

Kate: Ah…

Being unable to see meant that I wouldn't know when he was going to touch me, so even the slightest touch made me moan.

Liam: … Are you okay?

Kate: Y-Yes… just surprised.

Liam: Heh…

Liam responded with a mischievous chuckle and went on to slowly massage my breasts.

A burning feeling of frustration was bubbling inside my body.

Liam: Your nipples are getting pointy… still surprised?

Liam teasingly traced his fingers around my nipples without touching them.

Kate: Ah… nng… ahhh! P-Please touch me…

I was usually more reserved in bed, but having my eyes covered made me feel bold.

I begged Liam to release me from the frustration building up in me.

Liam: Fufu… alright. I’ll touch wherever you want me to, Kate.

He pinched my nipples between his fingers, stimulating them.

Kate: Nngh… ohh…

Liam: … Your face is red. Feeling good?

Liam: I haven't touched you here yet…

His fingers poked at their sensitive peaks.

Kate: Ahh… t-this is strange… I’m more sensitive than usual… ggh

(I thought being blindfolded wouldn't make much difference…)

(His feeling of his hands against my skin feels hotter and more pleasurable than usual…)

Liam: Strange? Not at all. Your other senses are heightened because you can’t see. Like this…

Kate: Nn…!

The mere feeling of his breath against my ear made me shiver.

Liam: Ahaha, you’re a cutie. … I’m going to love you even more.

Liam nibbled on my ear, flicking the auricle with the tip of his tongue while continuing to stimulate the peaks of my breasts.

Liam: … Ah, you’re turning red here too.

Kate: That’s because you're touching me.. ahh…!

I twisted my body away, feeling embarrassed being the only one seen.

But Liam pinned me down by the shoulders, not allowing me to escape.

Liam: It’s okay, don’t be shy. Let me see more.

I wondered when my clothes got removed as Liam repeatedly dropped kisses on my bare chest.

Liam: … Ahh, you look so delicious. I can't help but get excited at the sight of your reddened skin.

Liam slid his fingers across my chest, tracing the kiss marks he left.

Even that slight touch brought me immense pleasure, causing a tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Liam: … I’ll pleasure you with my hands until I’m all you can think of.

In that split second I felt relieved when his hand moved away from my chest—

He pulled my panties off, exposing the lower half of my body to the chilly air.

Liam: They're already this ruined… you’re so lovely, Kate.

Kate: Wha—.... ahh!

Liam stimulated the wet spot at the apex of my legs with his fingers.

Liam: … Hear these wet sounds? The sound of you getting wet for me…

Liam’s fingers were covered in my love juices as he rubbed my sensitive spot.

Kate: Ahh… nnn…!

Liam: Did you cum already…? You came faster than usual. Could it be because you’re blindfolded?

Kate: Haah… L-Liam… wait…

I rolled over and got onto all fours to catch my breath.

(Since I’m blindfolded, this should be a safe position…)

Liam: … You tell me to wait, but your position says otherwise.

Kate: Huh…?

Not giving me even a tiny bit of time to rest, Liam roughly grabbed my hips.

Liam: Here too, it’s twitching like it’s hungry for something… is it feeling lonely? Let me fill it up then…

Kate: … AHH!

He lifted my butt and penetrated deep inside me from behind like a wild beast.

Liam: Fufu… we’re really… like cats…

Kate: Eek…! Ahh, ahhh…!

Every time my body shook, cries of pleasure escaped my open mouth.

Kate: L-Liam… stop…

Liam: Haah… the word is “hate” if you really want me to stop…

Liam: It’s okay if you want to say the word.

Liam’s sweet whisper oozed into my ears and to my head, melting my entire body all the way down to my hips.

(I don't want to say “hate”... because I… actually…)

Kate: …

Kate: Liam… I want… more…

Liam: … I can’t go easy on you if you say that.

We made love over and over again in that neverending darkness—

…

By the time we were done, my sense of time was already completely messed up.

(Is it morning already…? I can’t tell with the blindfold on.)

(I still think I was the only one feeling good…)

(What about Liam? Did he feel even the slightest bit of pleasure…?)

Kate: Liam, are you awake?

Liam: Of course. I’ve been watching you.

Kate: I want to see your face, Liam.

Liam: …

Kate: … Liam?

Liam: Ah… sorry, let me remove it for you right away.

The blindfold was finally removed, and I saw the morning sun rising in the distance.

Liam, whose face I’ve been longing to see, wore a complicated expression. It looked like a mix of fulfilment and distress.

Kate: … Is something wrong?

Liam: I just got the thought that if you can’t see, I’ll be the only one in your world; and that would make me insanely happy.

Liam: Then I realised that if that's the case, our eyes wouldn't get to meet like this. So I think it’s still better if you remain able to see.

(That’s why he hesitated to remove the blindfold…)

Kate: … You’re right. It’s better if I can see… because I want to look at you.

Liam: Yeah… I’ll always be in your beautiful eyes.

I want us to forever be in each other’s worlds, until the very moment the lights fade from these eyes.

We exchanged a gentle kiss and sank back into the bed again.

#held onto this story for very long and decided to finally post it to thank yall for 900 followers mwehehe #ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil story sale #liam evans

[non-stop-imagines]

Part One: Meet Cute

Part One Two Three Four

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Freelance Journalist Black Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Truly nothing except a cute little story about how Y/N and Mick met

A/N: Helllooooo everybody!! Firstly, I just wanted to say thank you for the support I got for my first F1 piece, especially @omgsuperstarg, who has truly been so sweet to me! This piece is the first part of a 5 part series that I decided to do about a freelance journalist reader and Mick falling in love and everyone else realizes it but them. This really is going to be an endeavor for me because I really want to incorporate a social media au aspect that I see on a lot of F1 fics that I just think is soooo cool and creative! Also, shoutout to @thisismeracing for accidentally inspiring this because their King of my Heart series is *chef's kiss🤌🏿*. Anyway, hope you all enjoy!!💖💛

Masterlist

You huff a breath of relief as you push your way through the Silverstone paddock turnstile, looking at your pass briefly before letting it drop back down onto your chest. “I better make this count with the price of this fricken pass.” You mumble before finally allowing yourself to take a look around the paddock. The vast concrete area was buzzing with teams prepping for the practice sessions the next day, fans searching for their favorite drivers, various youtube videos being filmed, an overwhelming number of outfits containing designer products. This jumped out at you because, while trying to wrap your head around the number of highly priced items being worn around the paddock, out of all the well dressed people there, a photographer stopped you to get a picture of you in basic black biker shorts and white cropped tank top, wrapped in a oversized blue accented varsity jacket that matched your true blue accented Jordan 1’s, long locs put up in a bun for the sheer purpose of keeping your hair out of your face while you worked.

“You look amazing. Thank you for letting me take your picture” The photographer compliments you after asking for your instagram handle when you confirmed that it was okay to post you, then gives you a firm handshake before moving on to photograph more of the paddock. Your mind continues to reel about the encounter as you proceed with making your way through the paddock, trying to find the press room where the driver interviews were taking place.

It was at that moment Mick exited the Mercedes motorhome, en route to the main F1 paddock building for certain administrative business, but he couldn’t help but notice the gorgeous girl, frantically looking around at the buildings then back at her phone, as if trying to read a map. She shielded her glasses clad eyes from the bright sun that caused her brown skin to shimmer, and had her glossed lips slightly puckered as she continue to search for her destination. Mick’s feet had a mind of their own as they started toward her, stopping briefly to talk and take picture with a little fan that was practically vibrating in the presence of their favorite driver, or rather current reserve driver. Once close enough to you, close enough to smell the light floral scent hinted with vanilla wafting from your person, he tries to quietly alert you to his presence, trying hard not to startle you.

“Do you need help finding something?” Still, even with his quiet efforts, you flinch at the sudden visual of piercing blue eyes watching you, concerned.

“Oh, uh, yes actually. Do you know where the press room is? I think the driver interview is about to start and I would really like to be there or else I came here for nothing.” You chuckle as you finally turn toward the person nice enough to come and help you.

“Uh, yeah. I was actually headed that direction myself.” The bright smile he flashed your way did nothing less than knock you off your feet, which caused you to almost miss the hand he had held out in an effort to introduce himself. “Mick.”

“Of course you are. Um, Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n. Very nice to meet you.” You shake his hand, both of you holding on for a little longer than necessary before Mick lets go in order to motion towards the walking direction. While a bit of disappointment panged through you at the loss of his hand in yours, you quickly recovered when you felt the lightest brush of Mick’s fingers on your lower back, guiding you briefly in the motioned direction. As much as both of you wanted to stroll slowly to your destination and have even the smallest morsel of time to get to know the pretty stranger next to them, you both had somewhere to be, and with Mick’s added task of having to avoid people coming up to him to decrease travel time, both of you had to walk briskly and wordlessly until you two finally reached the press room.

“Well, here you are.” Mick knew he had to leave that moment, but his feet betrayed him again, this time staying stationary as you rummaged briefly through the belt bag across your chest, pulling out a small disheveled legal pad and a pen.

“Thank you so much! Uh, do you know which drivers are in there right now?” You ask without looking at Mick you finish getting ready to go inside, missing the way his eyes danced over your image, and his face when he noticed the increased pace of his pulse.

“I think Lewis, Lando, Alex and Logan.” He mentally curses his feet but quickly accepts the short lashing he’ll get from admin. This girl, Y/n, she’s worth any reprimand thrown his way.

“Interesting bunch.” You look at your watch and quickly get into gear since there is one minute left before the interview session starts, but you finally take one last look at Mick's heartstopping presence briefly before you speak one last time. “Thank you again, Mick. It was very nice meeting you.” And just as quickly as you came into his life, you were gone with a quiet click of the door.

The time neared 7:30 pm as Mick hovered around the press room door, nonchalantly greeting people that say hello in passing, wondering on a scale of 1 to 10 how weird it was for him to be waiting to see if he can catch you leaving. All day he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head, the way the blue accent of you shoes and jacket went perfectly with the gold hoop earrings, rings and watch you wore, but how the shine of your jewelry had nothing on you, your chocolate eyes, your brilliant smile. How that amazing smile disappeared behind the door he has been nervously hovering around for about 10 minutes. “Okay, 5 more minutes. You already look crazy Mick, you don’t need to make it look worse.” He takes a deep breath, prepared to wait those 5 minutes, but he is quickly blessed with an answer to his prayer as he watches you exit, profusely thanking an F1 personnel.

“Thank you for letting me stay a little longer. Really. That extra time was a lifesaver.” You continue to thank the coordinator, who’s name you have since learned was Julie, as you finish packing away your notepad.

“No, thank you for helping with the chairs and stuff. That usually takes me well over an hour.” Julie turns to thank you after checking and rechecking to make sure the room was locked.

“It was the least I could do. Honestly.” Mick watched you shine that bright smile to the woman in the Formula 1 polo then shake her hand one last time after exchanging a few more words and then going your separate ways. Luckily, you typing out a few last thoughts in your notes app gave Mick time to gather his thoughts and get back his words before catching up with you.

“Y/n.” The familiar light German accent causes you to stop your brisk walk to the paddock exit and turn around to see Mick, his bright demeanor still able to peak through the obvious tiredness that he showed.

“Mick! Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you would be long gone by now.” You began to fidget with your phone in your hands, more than ecstatic that Mick was there, after believing that the last time you were going to see his radiant eyes was before you rushed into the press room.

“No, just got out of my last meeting.” He lied. He could have left just after lunch, but once he realized that the different press conferences were going to last until late in the evening he found everything he could do within the paddock from getting tik toks planned for the next morning out of the way to walking the tracking with Esteban, who got an earful about the pretty journalist he met today, just to stay as long as reasonably possible.

“Do Thursday’s usually go this long? This is only the first day of the first full race weekend I’ve been able to attend and I’m already exhausted.” You push the singular loc that you kept out of your bun away of your face and shift from one foot to another as you brought your hand to your glasses to push them back to their original spot, feeling slightly nervous under the intense observant gaze that Mick had as he took in each of your movements and absorbed every word.

“Yeah, Thursday’s tend to run long. But you get used to it.” You nod to his answer and shift on your feet again, looking around at the thinned out crowd in the paddock. He could see that you were getting restless, probably ready to head back to your hotel and immediately drop, but he needed a little bit more time, and little did he know you were thinking the same thing. In reality you were looking for some ice cold water, something with caffeine, anything to keep you awake long enough to stay here with him a little longer. “Would you like a coffee or something before you go? The espresso in the motorhome works wonders, I've been told.” Even though you were screaming on the inside, the most emotion you were able to muster was a tired grin and a light nod before you found yourself following behind Mick to the Mercedes motorhome, where he ordered an espresso for you and a water for him that were quickly produced from the barista and served, leaving you two to drink in silence for a moment.

It was now you’re turn to admire the blonde in front of you, your eyes tracing his jawline as he looked around the lobby. His eyes seemed glossed over, hinting to you that he honestly was nearly twice as tired as you but since he was seasoned in the proceedings of the race weekend, he remained affected to a lesser extent. You watch his hands as he attempts to crack his knuckles, but producing no sound. After a long cleansing breath, his attention settles back on you, giving you a tired grin that still reaches up to his eyes.

"So did you get good information from the interviews? You are a journalist, right?" His eyebrows scrunched with his question slightly.

"Yeah, I am, and, um, yeah. I think I got what I needed." The corner of your mouth twitches up before you bring your cup to your lips to slurp some espresso. This was the first time in his life Mick has wanted to be a cup so bad, receiving the touch of those still well glossed lips.

"Did you get to ask any questions?" You set your cup down and finish swallowing the liquid before answering. He almost didn't hear your answer as his eyes first zeroed in on the muscle movement in your throat as you swallowed and then to your hand which crossed his slightline, your fingers, which he now noticed had slightly longer, almond-shaped nails painted white and light blue, adjusting your glasses again.

"Yeah, a couple. Lewis, and actually Toto during the team principal interview, were actually the most attentive when I was chosen to ask my questions. But with the information I got, I could probably have a short piece out by midday tomorrow." You mess your phone a bit, painted nails flipping it over and over but your brown eyes were still locked on him, breathing out a chuckle when you see his eyebrows twitch upward.

"That's quick." The upward turn the corners of your mouth took forced him to take a sip of his own drink, to keep his own lips and his hands occupied. He wanted to touch you so bad, at the very least feel the soft warmth of your hand from before.

"Articles tend to come out quickly during race weekends. Allows for people to question the possibilities, no matter how unrealistic." You shrug, partly due to the nonchalantness of your explanation, but also because you realized how intently he was listening to you. When he wasn't asking a question his eyes were scanning you, your eyes, your hair, your hands, your lips. "Tomorrow's article is probably gonna be Mercedes heavy. Your colleagues seemed pretty giddy about this race weekend, like they have something big in the works.” You earned a shrug and a smug grin from Mick as you both simultaneously take another swig of your respective drinks.

"So…" Mick fiddles with his idle hands and then his nearly empty bottle before he asks his possibly embarrassing question. "Have you written anything about me?" The look he gave you after the words came amount was similar to a schoolboy asking if his crush talked about that day as his head dipped a little which forced him to have to look up through his eyelashes at you as he gave you a boyish smile. A short, slightly ugly sounding chortle came from you as you picked up your phone and begin scrolling.

“One moment, please.” A confident grin slithered its way onto your face as your scrolling slows, indicating that you were nearing the excerpt. “So this was from right after it was announced that you were joining Mercedes. It was for a women ran blog, pretty cool girls.” You give your disclaimer before clearing your throat and begining to read. “‘Even though our favorite blue eyed blondie has been heave-hoed from the grid by the under performing, underwhelming Haas Formula 1 Racing team, we are glad to see the warm welcome Mercedes AMG Petronas, his fathers previous racing home, has given him, and we can only hope that he will be accepted with open arms and treated more like family and less like a liability.’” You glance up from your phone to Mick’s widened bright blue eyes, laughing a little when he lets out a breath through O-shaped lips.

“That was sweet…and a little aggressive, but…” He leans back in his chair and runs his fingers through his hair, smiling hazily as the words played over and over again. He had to find that article.

While Mick floated through his thoughts, your eyes quickly flash to the stretch and flex of his arms and the slight bulge of his bicep as his hands moved through his hair before refocusing on the article on your phone. “I was angry about the situation…and happy that someone gave you a chance. I mean, this was at a time when everyone was speculating about your future in F1 and comparing your journey to your father’s and I was tired of it. It was Haas’ loss.” You finish off your espresso and fiddle with the cup for a moment before Mick motions to it then plucks it from in front of you to throw away in the proper recepticles, carefully sitting back down and getting back in the same seating position he had before as you continued explaining. “I mean, I did talk about the previous season, the crashes, because it was an important component to the whole thing, but if Haas can’t fund the mistakes that comes with taking on a rookie, they shouldn’t take on rookies.” The passion that you showed about the topic, about his own difficult experiences, aroused a different area of Mick’s attraction to you. Even before meeting him, you had such strong opinions on how people treated him, indicating how much care for people, and how your care for people you love is probably exponential to that of the care you showed him, a virtual stranger. You take a deep breath to bring you back to the moment then check the time on your phone, shocked to see it was nearing 8:45 pm. “Geez, I didn’t mean to keep you so late.” You unlock your phone and quickly tap to the Uber app, queueing up a ride, before setting your phone face down and watch as Mick’s face drops the slightest bit at the thought of you having to leave him.

“Oh, you didn’t…I don’t mind… I’m sorry for keeping you. I should have let you leave when you said you have an article to write by tomorrow.” You two were at a pining stalemate. Both of you needed to get up. Both of you needed sleep because you both had an early morning. But here you sat, at least for a minute more, both fully admiring the person in front of you as you guys racked your brains for reasonable ways to stay together, but to no avail. So you both sadly and simultaneously stand from your seats, thank the barista who you both were completely unaware was still there, and exit out of the motorhome, but take no steps away from the building.

“So, do you have a ride?” Mick rolls his shoulders forward to shift the backpack he had on as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. Your now hyperfocus on his presence and the close proximity caused your mind to swirl from the whiff of a warm, leathery, woodsy scent that floated from him.

“I called an Uber, which is now about 7 minutes away.” You check your phone then look toward the paddock exit where security was still standing guard and guiding those leaving in the correct direction.

“Oh, well, I’ll walk with you then.” Mick tries to stuff his hands impossibly deeper into his pockets while you two mosied toward the exit, fighting the urge to hold your hand that swung close to your side. The walk was mostly silent with the exception of small comments about the day and the thanking of people working in the area as you guys passed them. You two arrived at the Uber pick up spot just as the car arrived but took no action to get in.

“Thank you again for everything. You have made day one at my first race very memorable.” You shine your bright smile at him one more time, accentuating your cheekbones and making your brown eyes beam.

“I’m glad.” He could only stare at you, mesmerized, wishing this car wasn’t waiting for you to enter. “Uh, here let me.” His words faded off as he reached around you to open the rear passenger side door of the car, hesitating briefly as you both relished in the closeness, temporarily becoming intoxicated by the beautiful scent created by the mixing of your perfume and his cologne. You breathed out a thanks and slowly climbed in the backseat, preparing your goodbye when Mick leaned in the car real quick, seemingly surprised at his only abrupt action. "Come by the motorhome tomorrow before practice sessions start. I'm gonna see if I can you a pass to the garage for the rest of the weekend." Your tongue juts out slightly over your bottom lip as a flirty smile slides across your face, and as your peered over your glasses to look into Mick's eyes, the sexual tension that was hidden underneath the youthful attraction the entire time was highlighted, increasing the desire to close the gap between you two that has been keeping you both at bay all night.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow, then." You spoke with minimal lip movement, subliminally trying to bring Mick's attention to them. Both of you think that if the moment lasted any longer that afore mention gap would have closed and the night would have ended much different, but instead Mick nods at your acceptance of his invitation, slowly steps back to close the car door and watches as you are driven away, finally able to come down from the events of the day, the emotions that clouded him, and audit the actions he took. As he headed to his car he was sure your face was going to be at the forefront of his mind, your residual scent and the memory of your voice will be what lulls him to sleep, and the anticipation of seeing you in the morning is what will get him out of bed. Getting into the driver's seat of his car, he realizes you guys didn't settle on a meeting time so he pulls out his phone to text you, but then it dawns on him. He never got your number.

#black reader #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x black!reader #mick schumacher #mick shumacher imagine #mick Schumacher x black!reader

[agentplutonium]

Snippet Sunday !!

Thanks @angelicaether for the tag! They posted a very lovely snippet of xyr Christian/Amanda fic! def go check it out.

No pressure tagging: anyone who wants to do this, but also @penncilkid @dizzy-n-busy to name a few (I'm sleepy I can't think of anyone else)

I will be the first to admit that I have not been writing as mush as I would like to. However, I do have a few snippets of two AU's that live in my docs, one older and one a more recent addition. To no ones surprise, they are not Milo/Sweetheart-centric.

First I have an old TLOU AU that I have not touched in ages. It really doesn't follow the story of TLOU but is more set in that universe. In this snippet, Sweetheart is on their way to find Milo again.

Second I have Pirate Captain!Sweetheart fic that was inspired by my recent binge of The Pirates of the Caribbean movies. There isn't much more to say about that.

Small note: in both snippets, I use my nickname for Sweetheart (Sneaks) in case it's confusing/you don't like it ^^

ANYWAY snippets under the cut <33

TLOU AU

Sneaks rounded the cottage once, looking for any signs of life. They didn’t see any. The windows were dark, and there was an unfathomable amount of debris on the porch. They approached the door cautiously, trying the handle. It was unlocked, and Sneaks paused as their heart flew to their throat. They stuck their head in, flashlights sweeping the area. It was left exactly how they remembered, albeit dingier and dustier. They decided to move in, gun held at the ready as they did so. They knew realistically no cordyceps would be in here, but they couldn't let their gourd down until they checked every nook and cranny.

Sneaks deemed the house clear as they rounded into the last room. Dropping their gun a bit, Sneaks let themself feel a little disappointed that there wasn’t something here. The place looked like it hadn’t been touched since the initial infection. They went back to the main room.

A picture frame caught their attention. They picked it up, whipping away the dust that caked it. It revealed a picture of them and Milo on the shores of the lake. Sneaks stared at it, at him. They were both so happy. So… carefree. They would give anything to go back to that. To before.

Sneaks thumb brushed against Milo’s face, biting their lip to quell the sting in their eye.

There was a creak behind them, and Sneaks swung around, gun aimed. Their finger started squeezing the trigger, but a voice rang out.

“Wait!”

Sneaks paused, finally focusing on the figure in front of them. Familiar features looked back at them. His hands were up, one hand holding a handgun. Sneaks’ eyes were drawn to the scar that stretched on the outer corner of his left eye. They knew that scar.

“Ash?” Sneaks whispered.

Pirate Captain AU

Milo was manhandled onto the ship, the grip on his arms so tight it would leave bruises. Milo wasn’t going without a fight, cursing the pirates out and trying to get out of his bindings. He wasn’t even sure why he was there, just remembered excited shouting before he was grabbed. Only a few words got through, one of which being ‘nobility’, but that didn’t help either. There were shouts around the ship, and everyone was moving at once. Milo couldn’t keep up. He thinks they’re working on disembarking. That shot a bolt of panic through Milo, and he struggled even harder.

“Let me go! I’m not who you think—”

“Shut it,” one of them growled in his ear, a knife coming out as extra incentive. “Or you’re about to have much bigger problems.”

“Damien,” a voice rang out, quieting the ship as it was heard. “What do you have?” ‘What do you have’ as if Milo wasn’t a whole human being. His blood boiled as he looked for who was talking. His eyes fell on a pirate approaching them, cautiously taking one step at a time. They had a hate on, a long coat that vaguely resembled the colours of his town, and were overall very menacing. There was an air of command to them that he couldn’t ignore. A step behind them was another pirate, this one a lot buffer than the first had been. If the first was menacing, the second was straight-up evil-looking. Scars crisscrossed the skin he could see, and they disappeared under the clothes that they did have on.

“A captive, Cap’n,” Damien responded. 

“We don’t take captives.” The captain said slowly, eyeing Milo. “He doesn’t even seem like the type to be a good sailor.”

“Hey—”

The Captain had their sword out, almost leisurely, the point digging into Milo’s throat just enough to be prominent, before Milo could continue his sentence. “What? Does the pretty boy want to be a pirate? Want to be the criminal of the sea, hanging by his neck before the end of the week?”

Milo didn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought,” they said, putting the sword away. “I don’t want him.”

“But, Captain,” the second pirate who had his arm started. He was bigger than Damien, but he didn’t seem as aggressive. “I think this is who we need.”

“Is it? Him? The nobility?”

Milo shook his head quickly. “I am not Noble, I swear.” “Then why were you in the mansion?” Damien asked.

“I just—”

“Damien, you’re smarter than this,” The Captain said.

“It was Huxley’s idea! I just got us out of there before anyone noticed!” Damien defended.

“Not true,” the big one—was he Huxley?—defended. “Cap, you have to believe me—”

The captain held up their hand, and Huxley fell quiet. “I don’t want him,” they repeated, “throw him over.”

Damien and Huxley went to do just that, but Milo fought back. “Wait, please! Return me to shore!”

He was able to break free for a second, but was unable to keep his balance, falling to his knees harshly.

“And why should I do…” The Captain trailed off, looking at Milo. Milo’s chest to be more exact. 

They stalked forward, face unreadable. Milo wasn’t sure what to do. They bent down, grabbing at his neck. Milo flinched away before he realized they had gone for his pendant. He stayed still, watching their face as they inspected it. The ship was dead silent as they did, the only sound was the lap of the waves against the boat, and the distant city they just left.

“What did you say your name was, lad?” The Captain whispered, looking at him.

“Greer. Milo Greer.”

The Captain studied him for a moment before straightening again. “I’ve changed my mind. Send him to the brig.”

The chatter started up again, and Milo was grabbed and dragged to his feet.

“No! Please! I did nothing!” He protested.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say you did nothing,” The Captain said, back turned.

“Who are you?! What do I mean to you?!”

“What you mean to me is not your business,” The Captain snapped, rounding on him agian. “As for who I am, I’m Captain Ghost. Most feared pirate on the seven seas. People call me Sneaks,” they gripped his chin, forcing him to look them in the eyes, “but if I ever hear that name out of your mouth, that will be the last thing you ever say. Savvy?”

Milo didn’t respond.

“See you later, pretty boy,” They whispered, before pushing him away roughly and stalking away.

#thanks for the tag aether! #plutonium_WIPW #plutonium_snippets #tag games #Plutonium_taggames #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart #redacted audio milo #redacted audio sweetheart #redacted fanfiction #redacted fanfic #guys both of these are so dear to my heart but I have like no time to write help

[purrincess-chat]

Kill Em With Kindness CH6

Soooo, I really thought I had posted this a long time ago lol. Shouts out to the person who commented on AO3 last week who made me realize I hadn’t XD For any of you who have been following this story from the beginning, you’ve probably already read this “chapter” because when I was rewriting MDCSP, I decided to come back and polish this one up too because my writing changed a bit during that rewrite, so I wanted this story to reflect that as well since I did intend to eventually come back to it. When I did that, I decided to split chapter 5 into two chapters iirc, and I think my intention was to finish the last two chapters and finish this out and post this chapter when I did that, but then I never did that. So, I did it now. Chapters 7 and 8 will also be out this week, and with the end of this fic, I can finally put my Chameleon salt days to rest. 

Read on AO3

Chapter 6

Adrien stalked across the floor to where Lila was sifting through a rack. She didn’t look up as he approached, but an amused smile curled on her lips.

“Marinette has such strange taste, don’t you think?” She held up a bright green blazer.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Adrien said.

“And yet every time I mess with her, you do nothing.” She rolled her eyes, returning the jacket to the rack. “You could end this whole charade right now by telling Clara you didn’t really invite me, but you’re not going to do that, are you? Because that wouldn’t be very nice.”

“I mean it, Lila. You’re messing with Marinette’s dreams, and that’s not okay.” She examined his stern expression with an amused smirk.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” she asked.

“Mess around and find out.”

The confidence in Lila’s eyes flickered for a split second under his glare, a glint of worry that gave Adrien enough encouragement, but just as quickly as it appeared, the fear faded, paving way for Lila’s taunting once more. Adrien turned and stormed back to the dressing area, relaxing his shoulders as he rejoined the group.  

Marinette was finishing her second outfit, and this time, she personally handed Clara the bag. Adrien stood guard by the curtain, shooting daggers at Lila when she approached, which only made her smirk when she thought no one was looking. He wasn’t taking any chances. Lila wasn’t going to ruin Marinette’s dreams. He’d see to it.

When Clara emerged, she skipped onto the platform and gave a twirl. “Now this is a party outfit that’ll make me dance! I’m so glad I gave you a second chance.”

“You look awesome, Clara. Marinette is super talented when you get to wear what she actually picked,” Adrien said pointedly.

“I couldn’t agree more. This outfit is one I simply adore!” Clara stepped down to take Marinette’s hands. “Your style is simply the best. When it comes to fashion, there’s no contest.”

“Thank you, Clara. That means the world coming from you,” Marinette said, that spark of confidence returning to her eyes.

Lila’s jaw clenched as Adrien high-fived Marinette. For added insult, he draped an arm over her shoulders while Clara tried on Lila’s outfit. It didn’t matter what Lila had picked; she was no match for Marinette when they were competing honestly.

“Hmm…” Clara hummed, twisting in the mirrors to see the dress from all angles. “A lovely choice, don’t get me wrong, but this outfit just isn’t my song. Your first choice was far more on the nose, but I’ve got to be honest, these shoes are hurting my toes.”

“That’s okay. Marinette is incredibly talented. The only reason I won the first round was because of that mix-up. I’m sure she’s got something amazing up her sleeve for this next round too,” Lila said, curling her shoulders in the fakest show of humility Adrien had ever seen.

“Then let’s not waste any more time. I can’t wait to try on an outfit so divine. Tonight I will be Nadja’s TV guest, so let’s see which one of you is really the best!”

---

As Marinette took off, Adrien shot Lila a warning look before following after her. It was cute that he thought he could intimidate her into being nice, but Lila had direct orders. Things were going exactly as planned, and those two idiots were falling right into her trap. Soon Marinette’s aspirations would be nothing more than a pipe dream.

When Nathalie emerged from the back with a garment bag, Lila sauntered over to meet her. “Is this my dress?”

Nathalie responded by offering Lila her phone, and Lila pressed it to her ear.

“Nathalie tells me everything is going according to plan,” Gabriel said on the other line.

“Of course, M. Agreste. Marinette thinks she’s getting ahead, but with your help I’ll make sure her dreams are crushed for good. Then she’ll be sure to stay away from Adrien,” she said like a dutiful student.

“Good. I’m counting on you.” Gabriel hung up.

Lila lifted the bag with a smirk. Marinette chose the wrong opponent to challenge, and Lila was about to prove that she didn’t lie about everything. She was going to take everything from Marinette. Clara was just step one.

---

“I still don’t trust Lila,” Adrien whispered while Marinette browsed the wall of shoes.

“Don’t worry about her. We’re onto her little game now, so it’s impossible for her to steal my outfit again, and we both know Clara prefers my picks to hers now without a doubt,” Marinette said, sounding confident.

Under normal circumstances, Adrien would have been proud. Lila, however, was not normal circumstances.

“I know you’re better than her, but I just have a bad feeling. I don’t trust her,” Adrien said, glancing at Lila in accessories out of the corner of his eye.

Marinette zipped her bag and turned to look him in the eye. “I’m not asking you to trust her. I’m asking you to believe in me.”

Her bright blue eyes glowed with determination, and although he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his gut, he nodded her on. Marinette was brilliant and amazing — Adrien knew that. She had a bright future ahead of her so long as nothing got in her way. And if Lila even tried, Adrien would make sure karma picked her up on the way back around.

“Alright, chickadees, let’s see what you’ve got for me,” Clara said, bouncing in anticipation.

Marinette didn’t spare Lila a single glance as she paced over to Clara, but Adrien hung back to make sure she behaved. Lila seemed to all but ignore him until the last moment when she shot him a playful wink that sent his blood boiling.

“Oh, Clara, since I know Marinette is probably going to win, will you try on my outfit first?” Lila requested innocently. “Naturally, mine will pale in comparison, so I want you to give it a fair shot.”

“Lila, that’s quite the humble stance. I’d be more than happy to give yours a chance.”

Adrien instinctively bristled when Lila passed off her bag. What was she up to? His stomach churned in knots, and he stepped closer to Marinette, gleaning comfort from close proximity as if he could protect her from whatever scheme Lila was trying to pull.

When Clara emerged again, every jaw in the room dropped, and Adrien’s mind whirled with a thousand thoughts at once. That dress wasn’t part of the normal collection — it was one of a kind. Adrien had seen it in his father’s office a few days prior. He wasn’t entirely sure how Lila got her hands on it, but it wasn’t by accident.

“This dress is so…so…” Clara gasped, abandoning her riddles and rhymes as she stared in awe.

Lila beamed, clasping her hands behind her back. “I really wanted to impress you this round, so I asked the staff if they hand anything special in the back. I truly care about your style, Clara, and I wanted to prove that to you.”

“Your attention to detail and willingness to go the extra mile certainly make you standout, Lila. I’d love for you to be my new style consultant,” Clara said, clasping her hands together over her heart.

Adrien’s heart snapped when he turned to Marinette, her once confident demeanor now shriveled in defeat. Lila caught his gaze, tilting her chin up with a smirk. I win. She seemed to gloat, and Adrien’s hands clenched into fists.

“Clara, I know this dress is beautiful, and I’m not entirely sure how Lila found it.” He shot her a quick glare. “But designing is Marinette’s true passion, and in my professional opinion, I think she would make an amazing personal stylist.”

“It’s fine.” The voice was Marinette’s, and she turned to Lila with a small smile. “I’m really happy for you, and I know you’ll do an amazing job.”

She held her head high and threw on a smile despite the anger and humiliation she must be feeling. They were committed to being kind to Lila in front of everyone, but Adrien didn’t care about that now. Lila had taken something from someone who deserved it, and more importantly, she’d done it to someone Adrien cared about. If Lila was going to ignore his warnings, then he’d have to repeat them a little louder.

“Clara, why don’t you try on Marinette’s pick just for fun. She worked really hard picking it out.” Adrien suggested.

“While my search has come to an end, I’d be more than happy to wear something picked by a friend.” Clara brushed Marinette’s nose with her finger and climbed back into the changing booth.

Adrien marched over to Gorilla, yanking his collar down to whisper in his ear. Lila was going to learn the price of hurting people precious to him. He didn’t care if it wasn’t nice. Lila wasn’t a nice person, so just this once, he wasn’t going to be either.

With everyone focused on Clara, no one noticed when Gorilla clamped a hand over Lila’s mouth and carried her to the back. A single employee followed, opening the door to the private bathroom as Gorilla tossed her in.

“What do you think you’re-” Lila’s voice trailed off when Adrien approached, hands shoved in his pockets. “Is this the part where you try and intimidate me? It’s not going to work. I know your little niceness scheme is all an act, and I’m about to leave you both in the dust.”

“Maybe.” Adrien leaned against the doorframe with a shrug. “But you seem to have forgotten where you are. Did you really think you had the advantage in a shop named Agreste? In case you didn’t realize, everyone here works for me.”

“You’re too late. I’ve already won.” Lila shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Clara picked me, and Marinette will never make it as a designer.”

“Marinette is going to be just fine. I’ll see to that,” he said. “Clara respects my opinion, so she’ll listen to me.”

“And why would you convince her to pick Marinette over me? Doesn’t that contradict your whole plan to nice me into compliance?” Lila sneered. “As soon as we go back out there, Clara will still have picked me, so this whole conversation is pointless.”

“Who said you’re going back out there?” Adrien quirked a brow. He shut the door, and an employee locked it from the outside.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Lila beat against it, furiously tugging the handle.

“It’s such a shame you’re so busy, Lila. Clara will be disappointed to hear that you’re too busy volunteering to clean public restrooms to devote time to being her personal stylist. I’ll be sure to send Marinette your best,” he called from the other side. “Don’t worry. Someone will let you out after we leave.”

“Adrien! Let me out!” Lila screeched, but he was already walking away.

Clara was admiring Marinette’s outfit in the mirror when he returned to the dressing area, and he draped an arm over Clara’s shoulders.

“Marinette did an amazing job, don’t you think, Clara?” He shot her a wink.

“It’s true that Marinette has good taste. Not picking her would be a waste…” Clara hummed, tapping her chin. “But Lila’s pick is still on my mind. A dress like that deserves to shine.”

Marinette’s shoulders slumped, and Adrien pursed his lips. “I know you picked Lila, but I think you should reconsider.”

“Where is Lila anyway?” Marinette glanced around.

“Oh, uh, you see, Clara, Lila has a very busy schedule. Her parents are ambassadors, so she is always traveling. She pulled me aside while you were changing and expressed worry over being able to devote the time to being your stylist.” Adrien explained smoothly. “She was absolutely thrilled that you wanted her for the opportunity, but she just has so much on her plate right now.”

“I see. Well, that’s a real pity,” Clara said.

Marinette eyed him curiously as Alya burst into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” she panted, doubling over to catch her breath.

Adrien stepped down to retrieve the pink sketchbook tucked under her arm. “Designing is Marinette’s true passion, and while she is good at pairing other people’s designs, creating her own is where Marinette really shines.” He offered Clara the sketchbook and nudged Marinette forward. “I know you had your heart set, but Marinette is incredible if you just give her a chance.”

“Wow, Marinette, your skills are certainly plain to see,” Clara said, admiring her sketches. “So, what do you say? Will you design clothes for me?”

“I- Yes! I would absolutely love to! Thank you, Clara.” Marinette gaped as Clara took her hands.

“The pleasure is all mine. Your designs are so divine. This deal is all set. I’m so happy that it’s you, Marinette!” Clara gave her hands a squeeze.

“What’s happening?” Alya quirked a brow.

Adrien smiled. “Marinette just became Clara Nightingale’s personal stylist.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml salt fic #lila salt #my writing #kill em with kindness #chameleon salt #adrien said fuck around and find out

[tdcloud]

T.D. Cloud's October Novella Event: A Guide (blog#16)

Happy April, everyone! It’s finally starting to warm up here in Indiana, and I can’t say I miss the subzero temperatures, even if I do hate the rain more than the snow. There’s just something so soporific when it rains. It kills my motivation to do much of anything, and when you’re operating on as many deadlines as I am, that’s just not a good time. But! Onwards we move, and onto the next author blog.

Firstly, I want to give some updates—I’m freshly back from Evillecon in Evansville, IN, and WOW! It’s been several years since I last tabled at this convention and I am so stunned by how much it’s changed. The venue aside, the convention just seems to grow bigger and bigger every time I make the long trek down south to attend. Thank you so much to everyone who stopped by and picked up a book, and thank you to the repeat customers who remembered me from 2018! Evillecon was the first convention I tabled at properly—before that, all I’d ever done was sell ten or so books at Colossalcon’s Thursday Craft Fair—so anyone who took a chance on me back then and who were excited to see me again… That just means so much to me. Please enjoy your new books, charms, and other associated merch, and keep an eye out for what’s still to come!

My next scheduled convention will likely be Colossalcon in Sandusky, Ohio. Like always, I’ll be situated in the Thursday Craft Fair with my stock for a one day sale. Given I now have ten books and only half a table, I will likely only be bringing very limited stock of my older works and will begin prioritizing table space and numbers for my newer releases—which means the Tempest Series will soon likely fall out of rotation on my table. If you still have a few books missing in your Tempest collection, this may be a good time to pick up a signed copy while I still have them on tap! Please stop by and grab a book or two, and feel free to bring your previously purchased books if they’re lacking a signature! I am always happy to meet up with someone to sign their books—just shoot me an @ on twitter or Instagram and I’ll make it happen!

I’d also like to announce here that I’ve gotten into JAFAX in Grand Rapids, Michigan. This convention takes place the weekend after Colossalcon and will most likely be the convention where you can expect to see updated manjuu. I’ll be selling some Ossuary merch here that will later be made available on my ko-fi store. Keep an eye out on my Twitter and Instagram for pictures as they come in if that sounds like something you want to own for yourself!

That’s enough updates for now—what are we discussing this month? Given it’s April, there are a lot of updates happening on my Patreon right now. I figured we’d take a break from discussing DVerse clans to instead switch gears to one of my most popular and anticipated events of the year—the October Novella Event held on my Patreon!

First things first: are you pledged to my Patreon? If not, you should be! I do a lot of fun stuff there and every single novella as well as quite a few full-length novels are posted there as they’re written. I know I’ve spoken ad nauseam about my October Novella event here before, but for the few of you unfamiliar with it, I’ll give you the sparknotes: every October I post a full novella written to celebrate my birth month. My patrons vote in Spring to decide what I’m going to write, and then I write it, essentially giving them instant access in October to a weekly updating story that concludes on or around Halloween. It’s a really fun event that tests my ability to bring to life a fully realized story on a much shorter time schedule than I typically work with these days, and it’s more or less my version of NaNoWriMo, but for my patrons’ personal enjoyment.

Interested? God, I hope so.

With today being April 1st, I’ve gone ahead and posted this year’s novella premise options to begin the process of deciding what I’ll be writing for October. If you aren’t pledged to my Patreon, this is still something you can get in on! I’ve begun opening this poll to the public as well as patrons just to generate more interest in the event. To make this blog post a larger part of that, I figured we’d spend this month going over this year’s options in depth to showcase just what all is on the docket and maybe, just maybe, convince a few of you to join us in October for the big reveal.

To start in on this, let me give you the rules of the event itself. Every poll holds four options, and every year we have two new premises and two old premises to vote on. Each premise stays on the poll for two years unless it wins—after it’s been on the poll for two years, it’s cycled into my monthly short story poll and updated monthly when it wins that poll. It keeps things fresh, gives close runner’s up another shot at winning in the event, and allows me extra time to revise and sharpen previous premises if I can tell they need some additional planning before they’re ready to be written fully.

So far, Ossuary and Convergence have emerged as winners from this poll and reached fully published realization. I’ve got a plethora of other novellas that have either come off the monthly rotation poll or this novella event that are sitting on the edit block just waiting for their turn to come. If you liked either of those novellas, that’s the sort of thing you can expect to come from all of this!

All stories here run between 5-6 chapters and have varying smut/warning levels. I usually include that on the poll itself, so after you’re done reading this, check out the poll and get to voting on whatever sounds the most interesting to you.

So, onto the premises themselves.

It should come as no surprise that if Ossuary reached completion through this event that it stands to reason I’d give its sequel, Reliquary, a shot on the poll, too. Reliquary is one of our two repeat options and will be cycled into the monthly rotation if it fails to win again this year. It is, as I describe it, the sequel that no one asked for and that doesn’t need to exist but will solely because I want to write Thierry getting horror-fucked by an inhuman vampire creature. While Ossuary was my attempt at exploring the concepts behind survival horror as a genre and the inextricable link between horror and the erotic, Reliquary is my attempt at exploring another very prevalent and established horror genre trope: the haunted house. The idea of being trapped in a home with the vestiges of domesticity surrounding you but warped by something inherently malign residing there with you. Where Ossuary was survival horror, Reliquary will be psychological horror dealing with the concept of death-of-the-self and the idea of “infestation” within a space all humans by design should find comforting (the home). I went into depth on this concept of “infestation” in last month’s blog, so if that’s something you’re curious about, go check out the Q&A segment from March to learn more about that.

Suffice to say, this is going to be a pretty intense, Dead Dove Do Not Eat type of story, and while Ossuary was already pretty Dead Dove as it was, this will be a step further in that direction given it will involve sex and the logical extension of our dubious-to-outright-lack-of consent moments experienced in late-stage Ossuary. While I don’t view Reliquary as noncon, it certainly is closer to that than any definition of “enthusiastic consent.” It will not be a story for the faint of heart, and I don’t know if I expect it to win. If need be, I’m content to just write it on my own if there’s no real interest from my patrons to see it written for them there—but given how hugely positive the response has been for Ossuary, I think it’s safe to say there is demand, just maybe not fully informed demand. That’s why I’m trying to state things plainly here.

Either way, this sequel doesn't NEED to exist, but I want it to because I think by design, Ossuary has far more story left to tell. This will not be the happy ending Ossuary didn't have; if anything, this will be almost exactly like Ossuary in that the ending will carry on the thread of "What could happen next in this situation? Nothing good!" since that's the sort of premise it is.

I enjoy trying to offer up a diverse range of vibes and dynamics to keep things fresh and give people some difficult choices to make, and this is the not cute, not nice, apeshit horror option for the year. If you’re curious about the sort of dynamic I intend for this story to have, I've posted snippets already on twitter here.

I try to write summaries to give people a general overview of each poll option, and while I hate summaries and feel like I’m pretty bad at writing them even after the story itself is fully written, here is Reliquary’s attempted summary:

Thierry Pryor is the descendant of a family of infamous vampire killers, a fact which makes him horrendously blacklisted in the magical society he begrudgingly calls home. After encountering an elder vampire with ties to his family in the Parisian Catacombs, Thierry finds himself trapped in a strange house with the creature who professes love that tastes closer to obsession, and try as Thierry might, he can't seem to tell if the vampire sees him for who he is and not the dead ancestor the vampire can't seem to forget.

What transpires is a nightmare that refuses to disappear come morning-- and proof that your life isn't always the worst thing you can lose.

So, finish reading Ossuary and if you feel like you want to see more, vote for this option!

The other premise on the poll that’s about to grandfather its way onto the monthly rotation is M4gp13, the fourth and final installment of my as-of-yet untitled Vigilante-Verse series. For those of you familiar with the previous installments, this one will be set in America with more Pride/Stray vibes than Ezra/Kennedy or Tamsen/Vulture—meaning it’s not as drama filled or plotty in an interpersonal way; it’s really just a dumb, silly, and horny little foray into how a yandere-in-training younger hero-aligned top goes rabid-simp over the sexy yet oblivious older villain who keeps taking him hostage.

The summary is as follows:

Russell 'Rus' Underwood is the most maligned sidekick in all of New York State. His mentor, the hero Royal Flush, cares more for glory-hounding than looking out for her Bloodhound, and not a week goes by without Rus dangling from a rope while paparazzi snap pictures of the hero showing off from down the street. And don't even get him started on hostage situations. If there's a sidekick who's been ransomed off more, he'll eat his cape and be done with it, then and there.

Of course... Being held hostage isn't all bad, especially when the one doing it is M4gp13, the latest villain the city finds itself playing host to. European, chic, and cool, M4gp13 may be the only villain on the eastern seaboard to care about prisoner accommodations, and really, what does it say about Rus's life that his holding cell is nicer than his apartment?

The hacker doesn't have to treat him so well, but they do. They always do, and... Well, if Rus daydreams about being someone else's sidekick every now and again... What's the harm? It's not like it'll awaken something in him... Right?

I’ve spoken at length in previous blogs about my Vigilante-Verse and all the various characters, concepts, and story premises for the three previous incarnations. This will put a nice end cap on things and serve as a very nice conclusion to the American side of things while also allowing me to dabble a bit into a relationship dynamic I don’t get to play with often enough. I know danmei is super popular right now. Have you guys read Scum Villain Self-Saving System yet? If so, then you may love this option. Imagine LBH/SQQ with these two—they are really that bad, and it’s going to be hilarious.

Also, don’t worry if you haven’t read any of the other Vigilante-Verse stories: this will be entirely self-contained and functions as a one-shot within that universe. There may be a few name drops here and there, but your enjoyment of the story at large will not suffer from not having previous experience with the series.

Though, if you’re worried… All three of the previous installments are available in full on my Patreon. I promise you won’t reget binging them all, they’re fucking hilarious XD

The next option is brand new for this year! It’s also something that I’ve never written before, shockingly enough, and I can’t lie—I’m really excited about this one. A few weeks ago I went on a James Bond bender. I grew up watching those movies as a kid because my dad fucking LOVES them, and while they’re not well written, age appropriate, or at all good anymore, there’s just something so fun about hokey spy shenanigans involving dumb gadgets, seduction and honey-potting, and over-the-top bad guys with their world-ending weapons that have a convenient off-switch located somewhere nearby.

While this story won’t get into even half of that (a girl can dream), this will be a threesome heist-type story with assassins, spies, nefarious villain auctions, and all the bullshit spy nonsense you could hope for. Given this is a newer premise, the summary is a little rough. Regardless, you all should still get the gist of what I’m aiming for with this one.

In a world of assassins, thieves, and cutthroats, the chances of making enemies are higher than the alternative. Pierce Trevelyan knows this better than most and has thus spent the majority of his working life with only one man at his back—his longtime partner Ilya. The two share everything, be it jobs, guns, and each other’s beds, so when it comes to Pierce’s attention that a captured spy has just become the prized jewel of an Underground Auction and that Ilya has taken an interest in the situation… Well, turns out there’s a secret or two between them they have yet to share.

Which is fine, Pierce thinks as he looks at the picture of the spy in question. If this "Luka" has caught Ilya’s attention, there’s no reason the two of them can’t share this, too—especially if this particular secret looks like that.

-wags eyebrows- When a bad-at-emoting killer has a crush and doesn't know how else to act on it than through acts of violence, thank god his merc boyfriend is there to ease the way once the smoke clears! I’m super excited about the character dynamics in this one. We’ve got Ilya, the big, buff, gap moe mercenary Cheeto puff, Lucas, the oblivious, breedable conman caught in a pinch with a collar around his neck and no godly idea of the sort of danger he’s in with these ersatz rescuers of his, and Pierce, the mildly entertained charismatic killer who can’t WAIT to see just what makes Lucas so interesting to Ilya.

It’s going to be a riot and a half if it wins—trust me.

And the final option on the poll and likewise the other new premise is something I’m colloquially calling Circus of the Dead. Not to be confused with Carnival, the previous winner of last year’s October poll, CotD is a SFW yet massively macabre jaunt into Limbo a la Dante’s Divine Comedy. It’s largely a “vibe” that I’ve been mucking around with for the better part of four months now and has only recently coalesced into something concrete enough to write in this format. It’s a combination of a lot of my favorite things: the call of the void, erotic death, Limbo and Purgatory, and the sort of energy I’ve been calling “Corpse Bride meets Mushishi.”

I think I said it best on the patron poll itself: “While some take their existentialism with dread, this is the story that recommends you try it with a spoonful of sugar instead… but don't let that fool you--it wears its teeth in different ways than the other options on this poll.”

The summary is pretty rough (I'm still refining this concept, but trust me, it's really, really fucking dope), but y'all should still get the gist with what I’ve got here.

The Circus of the Dead are a traveling troupe of the restless dead who perform for those occupying the interstitial boundaries of existence. Ringmaster Nikita has the beauty of the dead and charm to match, and he serves as a semi-regular torment for Lyde, tinker and check-point denizen of Limbo. While the music, laughter, and company can break up the monotony of eternal neutrality, it also comes with challenges of its own. Something is off about the Circus’s newest member, and Nikita doesn’t want Lyde to find out what. And what, pray tell, is that rhythmic noise coming from Nikita's personal caravan?

The beguiling dead are a distracting danger, even to someone neither living nor dead. Lyde’s duty compels them to discover what Nikita is hiding, even if it does mean exposing themself to the full scope of the undead’s eternal charms.

It’s going to be a deep dive into Dante’s concept of Hell, the idea of functions of Limbo working as personifications of Duty (think of Lyde sort of like Charon in Chthonic myth), and the idea that while the dead want the living to be dead along with them, everyone has their roles to play, their duties to fulfill, and giving in to this hot, dead thing’s impressive tits will only result in you becoming a hot, dead thing, too, and you’re still on the clock!

Or, as I’ve been describing it to my editor and artist friend, CotD is what happens when a really slutty corpse tries to show his tits to the TSA agent checking his bag in order to distract them from the contraband tucked into their cosmetic bag.

That’s it. That’s literally the story. Excited? I hope so XD and not just about CotD. I hope you’re excited about all of these poll options. I feel like we’ve got a super strong, stacked set of choices this year, and I hope I’ve made it hard on all of you voters because as of right now, I can’t even decide which of these I’d want to work on more. They’re all bangers. No matter what wins, I guarantee we’re in for a rollicking good time.

Let’s open things up to some questions about these stories, other stories, and anything people felt like sending my way this month.

Do you have any prerequisites before you start a good writing sesh? Like a cup of coffee ect?

I do! I usually write here and there over the course of the work week as my schedule/energy allows and save my big writing binges for the weekends. I typically wake up between 8-9am, shower, go through my normal morning routine of doing my hair and getting dressed, and I make myself a latte with at least four shots of espresso. While I drink that, I’ll go through my social media, answer emails, update my website, and do the random bits and pieces of managing a business like this before tucking into whatever chapter I’ve got on deck for that weekend. By that point the caffeine has hit and I’m focused and ready to write.

The writing process itself involves listening to one of my many spotify playlists, typically something upbeat, heavy, and metal. I usually make a goal to get to before I stop for lunch, i.e. completing half of the required writing or ¾ depending on how easily it’s writing. I usually experience a dip in productivity after I eat so I really like to do as much as I’m physically able to do before stopping to eat anything.

So, yeah, a cup of coffee usually makes an appearance when I do a writing session XD I also treat it the same way I would treat a real job. I shower, do my hair, and I get dressed. I do as much as I can to put myself into Work Mode so I’m not tempted to fuck off the entire day on youtube or whatever instead, and a common thing I opt for when working and encountering blocks or dips in motivation is taking a walk mid-afternoon or just doing something outside for maybe an hour before getting back to things.

How do you pronounce “Thierry”?

Well, I’m shite at French so I pronounce it wrongly as “Theuh-ry.” To my knowledge, it’s more like “Tee-eyree” but the “tee” has a bit of a “t-yhuh” softness to it. This video will say it for you: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BULYCNSGFNQ.

I can pronounce Latin, Greek, and my bullshit titles much better than some French names (do not even begin to ask me how to pronounce Hippolyte), so sometimes, just reading it is better than saying it aloud.

Will you be at (insert convention name here)?

Maybe! My rule of thumb is that I’ll apply for just about any convention within easy driving distance of where I live (Fort Wayne, IN) if it seems large enough to be worth the trip and has its applications open.

If there’s a specific convention you’d like to see me at, feel free to use the contact form on my website to let me know or just leave a comment on one of my posts/DM me on social media! I likely will not travel further south than southern Indiana given I’m in the northern part of Indiana, a deceptively long state, but I’ll happily travel around to Ohio, Michigan, or Illinois and consider further conventions if I’ve got friends near the con who could help facilitate me flying and mailing my books out there (like I did to attend Anime Minneapolis).

I’ll be attending Colossalcon and vending at their Thursday Craft Fair as well as JAFAX the following weekend. As of right now, those are the only confirmed conventions I’ve got left for the year, but I’m crossing my fingers for Youmacon and potentially the Matsuricon waitlist to fall in my favor. If there are any other late-in-the-year cons you’d like me to consider, please, let me know! I’m all ears.

That’s it for now! Please, please, PLEASE check out my poll and cast your vote! If you see the post on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr, consider sharing it to spread the word about this event. My dearest wish is to branch out and include more people in this awesome event that makes October so fun for me every year, and the more we talk about the story premises and what’s potentially on tap, the more interest will be generated towards that end.

Also, I know everyone who ordered a signed copy of Ossuary has now received it. Great! I hope you’ve enjoyed reading my latest offering, and if you did and want to help me out a little more, please leave reviews on Amazon, Goodreads, and anywhere else you post to let people know your thoughts! This can happen on TikTok, Instagram, Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter—anything you want. The biggest challenge indie publications face will always be marketing, so any little bit you’re able to do to show your enjoyment helps me immensely when it comes to finding new readers and new audiences.

Thank you all for what you’ve done, and happy voting!

Until next time,

T.D. Cloud

#author blog #GO VOTE!! #its open to the public! #just click on the links in this post and youre gucci!

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Friday Kiss Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @jessica-writes22! :D

Rules: post a smooch between your OCs for Friday. It can be as light as a peck or intense as a makeout. It can be romantic or platonic or familial. As long as a smooch takes place it’s free reign!

Considering my chronic inability to write romance, I decided to go with familial. Here’s a side-story/bonus chapter (that became much longer than I expected) for The Power and the Glory (set somewhere in the flashback at the start of book four, after Imrahil starts messing with necromancer but before the attempted fratricide incident):

Hartanna and Mihasrin’s oldest son had been a very well-behaved baby. Their youngest daughter was another matter entirely.

Imrahil had never spent much time around his full-siblings. They were younger than him, and younger had always meant unimportant. He was too busy playing at being the perfect son; he’d go mad if he had to play the perfect brother too. Most of the time he ignored them, and they were wise enough to ignore him too. Maybe Gilreon had told them something about him. Maybe they sensed something off. He didn’t particularly care either way. Gilreon, insufferable do-gooder that he was, volunteered for baby-sitting duties, and Imrahil found he could go for days without having to even see his siblings,

Unfortunately, he couldn’t get away with this forever.

One rainy afternoon he’d retreated to a distant corner of the library -- his youngest siblings, Arafaren and Abihira, had been screaming at each other all day -- and tried to study his geography textbook. At last the distant yelling stopped. Imrahil’s relief was short-lived, because the next thing he knew his mother was bearing down on him. Her face was grim and in her arms she held a toddler who was busy trying to escape. She placed the toddler on the chair beside an astonished Imrahil.

“Look after Abi for an hour or two,” Hartanna ordered, and swept out without giving Imrahil a chance to reply.

For a moment Imrahil stared blankly at the toddler. She looked up at him curiously. Then she reached for his book. He snatched it out of her reach. Next she tried to grab his sleeve, then his hair, and finally she tried to climb onto the back of the chair. Imrahil grabbed her before she fell.

He’d faced corpses, dark magic, and Death herself, but he’d never been so out of his depth as he was now. Imrahil held Abihira at arm’s length and looked around helplessly for somewhere to put her. She couldn’t run around the library; there were too many ornaments for her to break. He couldn’t foist her off onto one of the servants; his mother would be furious. He also couldn’t keep her here; she wouldn’t let him study in peace.

He carried her over to the toy train set Gilreon had bought for someone’s birthday. Abi looked at it curiously. Then she picked up the train and threw it across the room.

“No!” Imrahil yelped.

He retrieved the train and set it down on the tracks. Then he promptly had to pick it up again, because Abi tried to grab it again.

Next he tried reading her a fairy-tale. Children liked fairy-tales, didn’t they? Either he’d been misinformed or Abi was the exception. She listened for exactly four minutes and twelve seconds before losing interest.

Imrahil picked her up, carried her into their mother’s study adjoining the library, and turned on the record player. Abi finally settled down and seemed content to sit and listen. Imrahil retrieved his textbook and continued reading, occasionally looking up to see what she was doing.

The record ended. Imrahil put down his book, then got a shock when he realised Abi was gone. He searched the study. Next he searched the library. One of the windows was open. He looked out and got a horrible shock. Abi was out in the garden, climbing a tree.

He opened the window fully, jumped to the ground, and ran to the tree. Abi had found her way onto the first branch and was pulling leaves off the twigs. Imrahil was tall enough to reach her without having to climb. He picked her up, ignoring her complaints, and began to carry her back to the house.

Then he noticed Abi was holding something that seemed to be moving. He stopped to see what it was. Their parents would be furious if he allowed her to bring an insect inside.

When she opened her hand he blinked and did a double take. It was a leaf, but it fluttered like a butterfly. It took off and flew around his head before landing in Abi’s hand again.

Imrahil stared at it, then at Abi. She was now staring at it intently as it hopped up and down like a rabbit. Then it slithered across her palm like a snake.

“Are you doing that?” he asked incredulously.

Toddlers should not be able to use any magic at all. They certainly shouldn’t be able to telekinetically move a leaf. (At least he hoped she was using telekinesis. The alternative -- that she’d somehow brought a leaf to life -- was too insane to consider.)

Abi nodded happily. She held out her hand. The leaf flew up, fluttering like a butterfly again. It sailed around Abi’s head. Then a gust of wind blew it away. When it landed on the ground it was just an ordinary leaf.

Imrahil stared at it, oblivious to Abi’s disconsolate wailing. He tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened and what it meant for how much magic Abi had.

“You are going to cause so much trouble,” he told her.

Her sobs stopped as he carried her back to the window. By the time he placed her in front of the fire -- it was still raining lightly, and their mother would be furious if he let Abi catch a cold -- she’d cheered up and started talking incomprehensible nonsense in his general direction. Imrahil nodded and made vague sounds of agreement at random intervals. He found a colouring book and some crayons, and gave them to her while he continued reading.

At last the library door opened. Hartanna looked relieved to see Abi happily scribbling and not getting into mischief. Imrahil wisely decided not to tell her about the garden incident.

“Come on, Abi, time for your nap,” Hartanna said, kneeling down to pick up the toddler.

Abi wriggled out of her arms. To Imrahil’s surprise she ran to him, gave him a hug, then kissed his cheek.

“I like you!” she proclaimed, then ran back to their mother.

Imrahil gawked after her as she was carried out of the room. No one hugged or kissed him. Even his aunts and great-aunts had never been inclined to show the same affection towards him that they did towards his siblings. He didn’t like people touching him, anyway.

He rubbed his face to wipe away the discomforting feeling of Abi’s kiss. If she ever tried that again he’d... he’d... Well, he didn’t know what he’d do, but it would make her understand that he didn’t welcome hugs or kisses.

A year later Imrahil attended his grandmother’s birthday party, tried to kill Gilreon, and was exiled for using dark magic. It was many years before he saw Abi again.

Tagging @eccaiia, @fearofahumanplanet, @pluttskutt, @butahumbleguest, @lightgriffinsect, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

Adding TPATG’s taglist: @ajbrooks-writes, @mjmnorwood, @houser-of-stories, @time-space-and-the-muses, @lothloriien, @aliensmoon, @rataltouille, @thescatteredscribbles, @alexwritesfiction, @moth-with-a-pen, @thelaughingstag, @diphthongsfordays, @athenswrites, @ladydawnxx, @talesfromaurea, @jacquesfindswritingandadvice

#tag game #writing #my writing #my WIPs #WIP: necromancer

[2ndwind]

World of Memory: A Personal YGO Retrospective

(I don't fancy myself a writer, but these thoughts just poured out of me. This is for me, more than anything. But if anyone reads it, I hope it's amusing enough.)

I must've been in the second grade when Yu-Gi-Oh came to the US.

I remember all the boys in my class trading cards and challenging one another to duels. I remember gazing wistfully at the checkout of every major supermarket chain, pleading with my parents to buy some cards. When they refused, I decided to make my own fantasy trading cards! Using graph paper! But I quickly learned how hard it was not only to create the cards but also to design mechanics that people would actually want to play.

I remember my parents surprising me that fateful Christmas of 2002 with the original Starter Deck Yugi. Even though 90% of the monsters were weak and vanilla, the smell of the freshly unwrapped cards was CRACK. Better yet, I was finally cool enough to hang out with the boys. Well, I didn't actually play the game very much with people other than my sister, and eventually, the school administration banned trading cards altogether. But it was endlessly fun to talk about. I even went to China one year and bought a TON of fake YGO cards to flaunt and trade with the other kids. Yes, we were all kids cheating other kids.

I remember my heart absolutely racing in anticipation of watching the show on Kids WB, and the crushing disappointment of turning on the TV just a moment too late (I'm reminding myself that Netflix didn't exist back then). The visual style was just so striking, so much cooler than Pokémon's. The plot felt so much more serious. And don't even get me started on the characters. I was literally head-over-heels in love with a Nameless Pharaoh. I was a Revolutionshipper before shipping was even a thing. It's pretty obvious from my Tumblr archive lol.

I remember the first fanart I made, which was me trying to copy the cover of the Starter Deck Yugi instruction manual. It was the hardest thing I'd ever drawn up to that point, and I specifically colored Yugi's eyes gray. Because people didn't have purple eyes, of course. I wish I held onto that drawing because it sparked something in me. Maybe it was my obsession with ancient Egypt, which predated my obsession with YGO. Maybe it was my frustration with my drawing skills. Whatever it was, it would stay with me for a long time. Beyond classmates paying me in change to draw their favorite monsters. Even beyond my fairly brief stint posting YGO fanart to DeviantArt (yikes).

I remember finding the original manga at Barnes & Noble and feeling very confused. Why didn't Yugi have a nose? Where was Duel Monsters? Wait, are people actually dying?? These were the questions I asked myself as I learned what manga actually was. Subsequently, I would devour every copy of the manga and even Monthly Shonen Jump that I could get my hands on. In that way, YGO actually became a gateway to several other manga/anime series. It was a gateway to my now lifelong appreciation of Japanese culture as a whole.

20 years! 20 WHOLE YEARS after my first love of YGO, I can look back and laugh at how much money I spent on the TCG and manga. I can cringe at the silly fanficcy stories locked up in my head and the overly sentimental (or just straight-up copying) fanart I drew. I can, as an adult, appreciate the themes, but also be more critical of certain elements (the whole Doma Arc, how the series portrays women, the ancient Egyptians themselves, the clear references to the occult...etc.).

YGO shaped me into who I am right now: a designer who dabbles in fanart, an avid Egyptology nerd, an appreciator of animation and sequential art, and even an aspiring developer of a card-based game (my grad school thesis! For real). And as much as I sometimes weary of this dumpster-fire world, I still thank God that I was born at a time when I could experience the original YGO and grow up alongside it.

With all these fond memories of YGO, you can imagine my utter shock and sadness when I learned of Kazuki Takahashi's passing. It's even more surreal because I'm still following the man, himself, on Instagram. I hope he truly knew the depth of so many people's love for him and his work. And I hope that, one day, as the endless ages roll on, I'll find him and thank him, myself. For now, this rambling and a few pieces of art will have to do. Rest in peace, Sensei.

#retrospective #rambles #ygo #kazuki takahashi #personal writing

[i-writes-things]

Mom's home.

Mom!Natasha x Daughter!reader

Summary- Natasha finally gets Home for a very long mission

Warnings- Arguing,

Authors Notes- You will understand why I posted this first before the Thanksgiving story, when the Thanksgiving story is posted.

Extra Pairings::

Avengers x platonic!reader

Clint Barton x platonic!reader

Not my Gif*

-

You stopped to look out the small window in the door that connected the Compound to Helicopter pad for the fourth time since your arrival to the small room

You had be up there twice already this morning, your mother was coming home today; she had been away on a mission for almost 3 weeks now

Natasha was one to only come back, once the mission was completed.

You half hated that about your mom

In your defense she was gone quite a lot

"ugh, this could not take any longer.." You groaned to yourself and flopped onto the ground leaning up against a rack of empty pistols

After a few moments of silence, you heard the faints sounds of what could be the Quinjet and jumped of the ground, gluing your face to the small piece of glass in the door. Looking around for the Quinjet, finding nothing, but an actual helicopter maybe 2-3 miles away flying away from the Compound

--

After deciding to come back later and check again, you walking back down to the kitchen

"She back yet?" Clint asked you, while finishing up his ham sandwhich

You shook your head "Nah, she'll be here soon though, right?" You asked him hopefully

He turned and smiled at you "Of course, she always comes back.." Reassuring you, he looks you up and down "Have you had lunch? You look tired." You shake your head again "Nope. I've been up by the Helicopter pad, waiting for mom." You say walking over to the fridge and opening it

"what to have, what to have.." You just stared at the fridge not able to think of how you could put all the food together to make something

"Hey, Clint?" "Yeah" "What do we have for lunch?"

He looked over at you "Uh, Ham Sandwiches," He held up his sandwich for you to see "I think pasta from last weekend, and taco makings.." He smiled at you

"Thanks." You turned back to the fridge still not sure what to have for lunch, but your thoughts were interrupted by Jarvis

"Excuse me, Miss Y/n, your mother has just come into view on the Compound's security camera's. She will be arriving very soon." The AI finished talking and Clint brought you back to reality

"Y/n/n, you might wanna go back up to the Heli-Pad, Nat's home." He starts to walk that way hoping you would follow him

You swing the fridge door closed, accidentally slamming it, but you didn't care

Mom was home.

You ran pass Clint and huffed right back up the stairs, then wanting to, but never stopped running, especially when you see the Quinjet hanger door opening before you were even outside

You put your arms out to push open the small weapons room door that you were in early, and in doing so the warmth of the sun hit you like a brick, just now remembering how cold you were

"MAMA!" You shouted to her as her boots hit the cement and she smiled at you, dropping the duffel bag she was carrying to hug you

"Y/n!" She said back to you with a big smiled as you slammed in her, and almost knocking you both over she hugs you back and holds you tight

"Hey bubba, i missed you.." She whispered to you kissing the side of your head

You missed her so much and didn't say anything trying to hold back your tears, and instead just moved yourself closer to her

She rubs your back, and sways you both side to side til your mom heard Clint come outside to greet his best friend

She picked her head up and leaned away from you slightly "You Idiot, I thought you were gonna clean the control panel, it is disgusting." You felt the vibrations of her voice echo through her chest as she yelled at him

"I did." Clint says mockingly and throws his hands in the air at you both

"How was the mission, took you maybe 2 months just to get back." He says sarcastically "This one," Clint points at you, still in your mother's arms "was missing you big time," Natasha tried to hold back a smile "went and slept in Wanda's room four nights in a row." You look up from where your head rested on Natasha's shoulder and scolded him

"Hey. I thought no one was gonna tell. And it was only three nights, not four." You leaned away from your mom fully and crossed your arms childishly now feeling embarrassed

"Come on, you two, lets get inside.." Natasha picked the duffel bag back up with one hand and grabbed your hand with her other, pulling you along, back inside

---

Lunch

"Y/n, you want a ham sandwich?" Natasha asked you casually as she made herself a PB&J

"Yes, please.." You said as you fell back onto the couch

"Hey, I am trying to watch my show." Clint said annoyed at you

"All i am doing is jumping on couch and then falling less an 10 inches away from you, it's ok.." You said sarcastically

"Y/n, don't fall on Clint." Natasha said mindlessly

"I'm not.." "Nat, are you doing a debriefing today?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me, Barton?"

"That is not what I said, I am making sure my dork of friend is doing her work." Clint said taking a bite of his sandwich

"I am going to talk with Nick after I get my daughter and myself some Lunch, Clint."

"Mom?"

....

"Yes, Y/n.."

"What's for Lunch?" "Y/n. I am making you a ham sandwich which right now, silly girl.." She said a little annoyed

"Oh, right.." You giggle to yourself and jump

"Y/n-" You landed on Clint "Sorry Uncle Clint.."

"Y/n. What did I say about falling on Clint..?"

"I didn't mean to.." You said getting off Clint and walking over to the counter

She raised a brow at you "Ok, I might have maybe probably tried to fall on Clint.." You said sitting down at the counter

"Here is your sandwich," She said kissing your head "I am going to my debriefing with Nick, and will be back for Dinner, okay?" She said handing you a plate with your ham sandwich on it and giving you a hug

"Bye bye Tasha.." Clint said waving his hand high in the air still watching the TV

"Bye, Clinty.." She said ruffling his hair and left the room

----

Dinner

"Where is Nat?" Bruce asked the rest of the table

You, Wanda, Bruce, Steve, Clint, Tony and Thor all sat together at the long table.

Natasha had been down stairs with Fury doing a mission report for almost 2 hours. Thor sat next to you across from Tony, with an empty seat on your right; your mother's seat

Sometimes Wanda or Steve would come and sit on the other side of you, to help you forget your mom was on a mission or just to keep you company

For you it only made you remember even more that she was gone, but you did like that they filled the usually empty chair

Thor's booming voice and Tony's sass filled the room, arguing, like always, over stupid stuff. They argued about a lot, mostly about who's the strongest, but sometimes they would talk about Thor's room being bigger than Tony's, and how Tony built the place and picked everyone's rooms. Some nights it would be about how old Steve really is, and on a extremely rare occasion everyone would go around telling something that happened in the last week or in the coming week that was exciting, or how school was for you, but that was using your mother or Wanda or even Steve sometimes. asking you quietly whilst everyone argued behind you...

You heard faint footsteps and remembered your mom was at a debriefing with Fury, you turned your head over to the door and watched and waited, but saw nothing..

"What do you mean?!? You could have taken that room Stark." Thor shouted, mouth full of food

"How could I have known, it is right next to the corner of the Compound you idiot." Tony shouted back, pointing his fork at him

"Idiot?! I am no idiot, you fowl miss-guardian!" He bellowed at Tony as a lightning sparked in his eyes. They both stand, Tony summoning his Suit

"Thor. Tony. Sit down, and stop shouting." Natasha said sternly and they both quickly followed orders

"How did you guys get by for three weeks withou-" She looked at the wall behind Tony and there was a hole the same size as The Hulk with a few pieces of duck tape strapping from one side to the other, doing a poor job of trying to cover it up

"It was Tony's fault." Clint said casually, Nat stood there shocked which turned to disappointment and then to anger pretty fast "What the hell, Tony."

There was a moment of silence before Tony could answer her

"You really shouldn't swear in front of your daughter." Tony countered

Everyone including yourself knew what was about to happen

"Tony, don't you dare tell me what I can and can't do. I trust my daughter to understand, that I am not swearing towards her and that is correctly directly at the person I am talking too, got it?" She gives him a death stare and Tony gulps hard

"Got it, Romanoff." He says quietly looking back down at his plate, while everyone around the room is silent, silent until Morgan; sitting next to Pepper, starts giggling to herself and you notice her doing so

"Daddy, you are in big trouble!" Morgan shouts down the table as Natasha sits next you and pulls you in for a hug from the side

"love you.." Your mom whispers just for you to hear

"Love you, and I don't even remember that happening.." You said defending your own , you had done nothing, but still...

-----

After Dinner most everyone would go and watch a movie or talk in the Living room, but Natasha telling Tony off was quite awkward, so everyone was doing their own thing tonight, not you though, you actually wanted to be with your mom

"Momm.." You yelled down a hallway, after not being able to find her

"Y/n?" Natasha asked from behind you

You screamed and ran forward a little after jumping

"What the heck, mom. You scared the crap out of me.." You said catching your breath

"Oho I'm sorry," She chuckled "what did you need me for, bub?"

You look at the ground "I was, um wondering if we could do something together? I mean you have been gone so long, and I really missed you an-" Natasha pulled you into a hug "And Morgan would have made me watch Moana again.." You say leaning into her touch

"mm, this is nice.." You mumble to yourself

Natasha chuckles and asks you "What do you wanna do tonight, my sweet girl?" she leaned away to see your face

"Umm, how about we watch Moana.." You suggest sarcastically raising both your eyebrows

"No no- Please no. I was kidding." Natasha laughs at your bad joke and you lean back into her hug

"How about a movie? We could watch what is the-" "no, movie would last to long." You responded yawning into her neck

"You tired..?" She asks you softly "nah uh. am not." You yawned again "That doesn't count." You say leaning fully away from her

"I think it does, when it's almost nine o'clock and you have been up since," She stopped for a moment to think "Since fourth this morning."

"Hey- Who told you that?" You looked at her almost offended "I talk to people,"

You cough alittle and respond "Steve" Cough cough

She looked at you side ways and a little disappointed "What do you mean, Steve?"

"What do you mean?? Everyone knows Steve would do anything for you, mom.." You state as if it should be obvious to her

Instead of questioning you on this more, she complete changed the subject "You said you were tired, right?" "I did not, and stop trying to change the subject." Natasha lets out a heavy breath "You know I love you, and I am willing to tuck you in, or watch a movie, or whatever you wanna do, but I will not be talking to you about this right now, okay?" You roll your eyes "Finee.." You start to walk down the hall, she follows, questioning you

"Where you going, Y/n/n?" She asks catching up to you

"To bed, can you tuck me in, mama?" You ask her sleepily

"Sure Bubba, come on.." She takes your cold hand in her warm hand and you both walk down the hall towards your room

------

Natasha turned your bedside Lamp on as you went to the bathroom and brushed your teeth

You walked out and made sure you closet door was closed

Then you settled yourself in bed, your mom came to sit beside you on the edge

"Goodnight, my sweet girl, I love you so much, yeah.." She leaned over and gave you a big hug with multiple kisses on your cheek

"Okay- Okay, goodnight, mama, I love you.." You said and yawned again, as Natasha leaned away from you saying "So, sleepy.." She stroked your cheek and moved a piece hair out the way of your face

She smiled as you fluttered your eyes closed, but opened them quickly trying to stay awake

You brought Natasha back into another hug

"Mama?" "Yes, Baby?" "What are we doing tomorrow..?" "Oh, um- Probably going shopping for food, and oh, right- We need to go get our dry-cleaning tomorrow.." She peppered you with kisses again

"I missed you, Y/n/n." You smiled to yourself

"I am just glad your back mama.." Natasha started to get up and went to close the door

"Mom?" You sat up in bed

"Yes?" She answered unsure what you were going to say

"Goodnight, mama.." You said and laid back down and closed your eyes

"Goodnight.." Natasha closed your door and smiled to herself, happy to be back home with everyone, but especially her little girl...

#natasha romanoff #mama nat #mama nat <3 #avengers #platonic #platonic avengers #natasha x child!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x daughter!reader #platonic natasha #soft natasha romanoff #natasha fluff #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x fem!reader #morgan stark #Tony stark #steve rogers #steve x natasha #romanogers #thor odinson #wanda maximoff #bruce banner #clint barton

[buckyownsmylife]

I've Told You Now - Lee Bodecker smut

The one where Lee seduced his sister's babysitter.

Warnings: smut, dubcon, age gap, innocence kink, dirty talk, loss of virginity, blood

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: This one is a part of my kinktober celebrations. My original intention for this October was to work exclusively around prompts that my wonderful friend @darkficsyouneveraskedfor created for her challenge and dedicate each story to a different friend. My new plan became then 31 days of different kinks, which expanded on a poly relationship with Stucky, as you might know by now. However, some of the stories I started were already truly loved by me, and so I kept on writing them. It worked well because as it turns out, I am fortunate enough to have more than 31 friends on Tumblr, so here is the story I wrote for @slothspaghettiwrites! You were the biggest reason I fell for Lee and it was only appropriate I wrote you this! I only hope it doesn't disappoint! Special thanks to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog who helped me believe this was good enough to be posted! @sweeterthanthis also has a big hand at this!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I was finishing packing up the toys in the living room when I heard the door slam, startling me into dropping the box of legos on the ground. Looking at the clock, I considered the time before looking back at the hall again. When no one appears from the hallway, I get confused. If the Hendersons hadn’t come home earlier than they intended, who else could it be?

“Waiting for me, bunny?” I immediately straightened out at the sight of Sheriff Bodecker, trying to resist the urge not to flush and keep eye contact, but ultimately failing to do so. I hadn’t seen him since the night he offered to give me a ride home and I ended up with his cock in my throat, his cum in my mouth.

“I-I didn’t even know you were coming.” Silence followed my confession as he slowly approached, eyes never leaving my body while I tried to keep myself up. He’d always had this effect on me. I remembered being a young girl and Sheriff Bodecker being the crush I knew was too old to be mine, the guy I’d never have even in a million years, but that didn’t stop me from daydreaming about him.

If I thought that maybe having him would help this infatuation disappear, it’d become clear by now that it wouldn’t be the case at all.

“And here I was, thinking you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.” The Sheriff tsked, and the sound went straight to my already dampened underwear. I couldn’t process his words very well, given how close he was and how loud my own heartbeat was ringing in my ears. Did he mean to say that he actually really wanted me?

“If that was really the case,” he taunted, circling me like I was some sort of prey. “You’d always be expecting me, wouldn’t you? But it’s alright, honey. You know why?” When I shook my head, he answered his own question, a single finger running down my jaw to guide me to look him in the eye. “Because I think you were expecting me. You’re always expecting me, looking for me wherever you go, just like I do. And there’s an easy way to prove my theory.”

Before I could question it, his arms embraced me from behind, hands slowly running down my stomach until they reached the edge of my skirt. I started sweating in anticipation. I knew what he would find.

“Let me check.” His fingers went over the fabric first, and he chuckled when he noticed how wet it was. “Would you look at that?” I was already trembling when he pulled my panties to the side and ran that same digit over my lower lips, just lightly grazing them. “Soaked already.”

Although I couldn’t see it, the humming sound he emitted after taking his fingers from under my dress didn’t leave me any doubt about what he did with the moisture he collected. Just the thought of him enjoying my taste that much had me weak in the knees, and I tried to keep myself up by reaching for a chair nearby.

Lee’s P.O.V.

I chuckled to myself at how sensitive she was, barely able to keep up with the little I’d done so far. Then again, it was clear I had a particularly strong effect on her. That had been obvious for a while, ever since she started working for my sister, probably - around the same age her womanly features began to stand out.

She seemed unable to look me directly in the eyes, always averting her gaze and biting her lower lip when I decided to stop around here for a coffee or check in on the little rugrat. I began doing this a lot more often after she was hired, but neither her nor my sister seemed to connect the dots.

Her innocence, her beauty just left me so fucking hard. I was hard right then, and I wanted her to know it. So I pressed my body against her back, lightly grinding my member against the curve of her ass.

“I suppose you’re finished for the day,” I speculated, knowing once the kid was out all she had to do was wait for my sister and her husband to arrive. “Guess I can help you unwind…”

She gasped when she felt my hardness, making me chuckle. “Your sister and her husband should be back soon…” She tried to reason, but I wasn’t having any of it.

“We’ll be quiet anyway. Can’t risk waking up the kid.” I gripped her wrist and pulled her on the direction of the guest bedroom, now fully unable to control myself. I was so close to having what I had wanted for so long.

She looked unsure of herself as I closed the door behind us, and I raised an eyebrow in a questioning look. “What’s wrong?” She shifted her weight from one foot to another, fingers playing with the hem of her skirt.

“I-I don’t know about this…” Chuckling, I approached her to cradle her face between my hands and deposit a kiss on those sweet lips.

“Don’t you trust me, pretty girl?” I had caught her now, we both knew it. She’d never risk disappointing or offending me, so when her mouth opened to explain herself and I raised an eyebrow in warning, it was only a matter of seconds until she closed it altogether and nodded, her eyes dropping to her feet.

“Yes, I do.” My smirk was full of victory, and I could taste it in my lips now. It was as sweet as the nectar between her legs I’d only had a taste of.

“There you go.” Approaching her once more, I settled my hands on her hips before leaning to kiss her shoulder. “Besides…” I continued, already bunching up her dress to get rid of it as quickly as possible. “You obviously need me to take care of you and this little wet hole.”

She bucked when my fingers rubbed her this time, dress already forgotten on the floor as I slowly shoved down the fabric of her underwear to join it. Once she was completely naked, I ran my digits over her cunt, verifying that her wetness was already so overwhelming that it was threatening to drip from her.

“So sweet.” I hummed once I wrapped my lips around those digits, tasting her on my tongue again. Yes, I was already obsessed. I think anyone who had the chance to try her nectar would understand my situation - but no one ever would.

She was mine now, and I would never let her go.

“C’mon, bunny.” Patting her ass, I directed her to the bed, chuckling at how embarrassed she seemed, being this exposed to my hungry gaze. “Be a good girl and spread your legs. Be my little angel, won’t you?”

I wished I could have done this somewhere more private - my own house, instead of my sister’s. But I just couldn’t wait anymore. My cock twitched inside my pants. I felt like I was drunk on this, drunk on her.

“C’mon, honey!” I repeated, lightly slapping the outside of her thigh. “I wanna fuck you. And I know you want to be mine, pretty girl. You can’t hide it from me.”

When she finally relented and slowly parted her beautiful legs for me, I nearly melted at the sight. Driven by my desire, I unbuckled my belt and worked to whip my cock out as quickly as possible, smirking at the wide, innocent eyes that settled on my member as I fisted it in preparation.

“Doesn’t it look good?” I teased, climbing on the bed to take my spot between her legs, rubbing the head of my dick against her slit. “I’m gonna have you taste it next time. But for now…”

Resting my forehead against hers, I slowly started to penetrate her tight pussy, slipping only the head at first, even though I was aching to fuck her throughly.

“This is gonna hurt a little,” I warned, not able to stop mid-way to let her adjust but keeping my invasion of her maidenhood slow until I had bottomed out inside of her. “Sh…” I tried to calm her, gently wiping away the few tears running down her soft cheeks. “I know it hurts, bunny. But you can take it, can’t you?”

She managed to nod despite her whimpers, and I brushed her tears away as I warned her, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, honey.”

It took a little while, but at last, she opened her eyes and I waited until she was able to focus them on me again. “You look so pretty, bunny…” I whispered, kissing her while I finally started to move inside of her, stopping only to moan out loud at her overwhelming tightness.

“I’m gonna train you until all you can think about is my cock,” I warned her, slowly pulling out until only the head of my cock was keeping her open.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Slamming my dick all the way in, I felt her nails running down my back, leaving trails of blood behind - trails I wouldn’t mind wearing under my shirt, sting as they might.

“I promise you, honey…” I panted, sweat already dripping from my forehead onto her pretty face. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m not inside of you.”

I kissed her cheek, rubbing my nose against it as she held me tightly against her. “I know you don’t want any of those boys you used to go to school with touching what I’ve already taken.”

She nodded quickly, my pretty little honey. Yes, she was mine already and she knew it. “It’s alright, pretty girl…” I soothed her as she started to whine, her cunt clenching deliciously around me. “It’s alright, cum with me…”

She closed her eyes when she met bliss, but I kept mine wide open so I wouldn’t miss her perfect expression of pleasure. It was almost enough to keep me hard, but I wasn’t as young as I once was.

I never pulled out of her tight heaven, keeping her body snuggled against me. I was happy that I decided to be patient, if it meant I now got to have her like this.

“I hope you know that you’re mine now, bunny.”

#my fics #lee bodecker #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker reader #smut #lee bodecker reader insert #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker reader inserts

[ikeromantic]

Yay requests are open! I love your writing and I want to request an angst fic (you can decide what kind of ending to give it) of Leo x MC but Arthur is her best friend who’s also in love with Mc? But unrequited. Thanks so much!!

Ah poor Arthur. Ever the third wheel. Drowning his sorrows in whiskey and loose women. Well, here's 1000 words of angst just for you!

Arthur clutched the pages of his most recent manuscript. Another Holmes and Watson adventure, featuring a new character. The intrepid Mia, a sometime maid with a sharp mind and a winsome smile. A character clearly modeled off the girl he was hurrying to see.

He found her in the parlor downstairs, relaxing after her daily chores. “Hello doll! Alright if I intrude?”

She smiled. “You never intrude, silly. I was hoping I’d catch you before you ran off with Theo today.”

Arthur plopped onto the settee beside her and leaned back as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “I just finished another Mia and Holmes story. Thought I’d see what my best bird thought of it.”

Her eyes lit up and her smile widened. “Another one! Let me see!” She reached for the pages eagerly.

“Ah ah ah. First spill. Why were you hoping to see me today?” He maintained a light, teasing tone despite the sudden tightness in his chest at her expression.

“Come on, at least let me read the title,” she pleaded. Then she grabbed his arm and tried to tug the paper closer.

Arthur turned away from her but she held fast, and ended up getting pulled halfway over his shoulder. Her other hand snaked under his free arm to flail at the paper. It was almost an embrace, and Arthur could not help but let himself enjoy it, even as she wriggled and squealed.

Finally she went limp, head resting on his shoulder. “Fine. Stupid long armed Scot.”

He did his best to ignore the way her breath tickled his neck. “Silly short armed girl. Now, why were you looking for me?”

“I wanted to tell you I started blogging again. Not, you know, where anyone can read it. But Leonardo gave me this beautiful handbound journal and I thought what better use than to write about my daily adventures?”

“That’s . . . fantastic. I hope you’ll let me read some of your stories.” His chest hurt at the mention of her lover. A man Arthur often tried to forget. Leonardo, with his slick Italian endearments and merry amber eyes. Nevermind he was a genius and immortal and . . .

“I could never! It’s all very personal. And it’s not like posting online where no one really knows you.” She slid off him and back onto her side of the couch.

Arthur grinned at her, his face betraying none of the tumult in his heart. “Is that so, doll? After I’ve been so generous with my stories? Now you won’t even let me have a peek.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I suppose you could grant me other favors to repay my altruism.”

She smacked his arm. “It’s not altruism if there’s favors involved. Now let me see the new story!”

“You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you. All this and not even a kiss on the cheek.” He handed her the pages.

Her eyes lit up as she began to read.

“Hey! Are you going to ignore me and just read?” Arthur pretended to pout.

“It’s just so good!” She sighed and set the pages aside. “Is it alright if I keep it a few days?”

“Of course. Keep it as long as you like.” His eyes held hers for a long moment and neither of them spoke. Arthur couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope that she recognized the chemistry between them was something other than the simple bonds of friendship.

“Cara! I thought you were going to get ready for our night out?” Leonardo strode in from the hall, his easy laugh filling the room along with the sweet smoke of his cigarillo.

She leapt up and threw herself into his arms. He lifted her and spun her around. Then set her on her feet and kissed her.

Arthur looked away. The sight of them together was a sharp knife in his gut. A bleeding wound that tore wider every day. He didn’t need to ask why she chose Leonardo over him. The better man was obvious. He was a failed doctor, a hack writer, a man that couldn’t be counted on.

“I was about to head upstairs! I ran into Arthur though. He’s written another Sherlock story for me! With Mia!” She rattled on enthusiastically for a another minute or two.

“Mia, hm? Like cara mia?” Leo’s eyes fixed on Arthur’s slumped form.

The writer looked up. “Oh! What’s that old boy? You know I don’t speak Italian.”

Leonardo smirked. “It’s just your character’s name sounds like what I call my compagna.”

“Oh, in the future Mia isn’t an uncommon name.” She smiled over at Arthur brightly. “I’m sure it doesn’t have anything to do with me. His Mia is so elegant and smart!”

“That so?” Leonardo tilted his head.

Arthur nodded. “Afraid so. I just found I rather liked the name. Any resemblance to people real or imagined is unintentional.”

Leo’s gaze felt like it read him inside and out. As if the pure blood knew without doubt exactly what Arthur was thinking and what he felt. “Huh. Well, I’m going to hurry you along cara. Come on.” He picked her up like a child and held her to his chest.

Her legs kicked in the air. “Hey! I can walk! Put me down!”

“Nope. I’m carrying you up to your room. If I have to, I’ll strip you too. And dress you up again.”

“If you do that, we’ll end up spending the evening in.” She laughed.

Leonardo nuzzled her neck. “That such a bad thing?” He turned to leave, his lover in his arms.

Arthur would have sold his soul to swap places with the Italian right then. Or to be anywhere else. His face felt stiff and numb as if from a terrible cold, while a fire burned in his core. One that left his heart twisted and charred. A vessel of pain. He knew he deserved nothing better, but it hurt more than he could bear in moments like these.

She twisted around to wave to to him. “Hey! Can you bring that story up later? Or -” She giggled as Leo kissed a sensitive spot, “maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, luv.” He waved at the retreating figures. “Anything for you.” Anything.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp leonardo #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #angst

[watermelonlovershigh]

You Get Sick in the Back of an Uber

AN: so this was a story i have had in my drafts for like three months and just never found motivation to finish it. i decided to finish this first out of my drafts because it was one of the ones that had the most already written for it. unlike some of my others that don't have much written yet. and this was supposed to be longer but i got lazy and ended the end with no dialogue and shorted the story. but i guess that's fine because the main part of this was the uber incident and not necessary the aftercare. (i just love to always include aftercare whether its with sex or getting sick. unless its a blurb) @harryhoney-bee suggested number 1. on my voting post so thank you for requesting i finish this one shot idea that was in my drafts.

This story contains: puke, drunken person, caring husband

{ husband!harry - dad!harry - Grammys 2021 Harry - 4 kids (any age you imagine) }

word count: 1765

When you drink too much at the Grammys, you end up having to get sick in the uber ride home and Harry cares for you.

-------------------------

Back Story-

After the Grammys, Harry and I decided to go to the little after party that was being held for the Grammy attendees. We knew we couldn't stay too long because we had to get back home to our kids. They were currently with our babysitter but she couldn't stay all night. She has to go home at some point. So we made sure to watch the time.

At the afterparty, drinks were flowing. I haven't drank in a while due to the fact I had been pregnant not too long ago. This was the first night I was allowed to drink and I decided to do just that. Harry was aware of me drinking and promised to watch and take care of me. Though we were at this afterparty for him, he wanted me to let loose and have some fun as well.

But what he wasn't expecting was for me to drink the amount I did. I didn't mean to go over board. It just kind of happened. People handing out drinks left and right and next thing I knew, I was drunk. Not tipsy, drunk. When Harry noticed how drunk I was, he decided it's best to go home.

And because Harry also had drank some alcohol, he wasn't in a state to drive either. By no means was he as drunk as me though. Maybe just tipsy but he didn't want to risk it. So he decided to call an uber for us.

--------------------

Current-

We're sitting in the back of the uber on our way home. It's about an hour drive since the city is crowded with traffic due to the Grammys. Right about now is when I regret drinking any alcohol tonight. Because I haven't drank in over a year, my body isn't use to the poison running through my veins. So you could say I'm a lightweight now. My head is throbbing. My vision is blurry. My stomach is turning. Lets just say I regret all my decisions tonight that lead to me feeling this way.

"Harrrrry I don't feel good." I manage to slur out.

"You probably should have stuck to champagne instead of vodka my love." Harry responds, while stroking my hair out of my face in a gentle manner.

Another 10 minutes pass and I'm feeling very nauseous. I'm trying to focus on my breathing but it's not working.

"Harry my stomach hurts." I whisper with hooded eyes.

"Like you're gonna be sick?" Harry questions with panic.

I nod my head and hear Harry asking the driver if he can pull over.

"Can you pull over? My wife is feeling ill." Harry frantically questions the uber driver up front.

"I'm sorry sir but this freeway is packed and there is no way I can get to the side of the road right now." the driver says with a bit of an attitude.

Hearing that made me and Harry both start to panic.

"Well do you have any sick bags in here?" my husband asks.

"Sorry I don't." the driver retorts in a uncaring tone. What kind of uber driver doesn't carry sick bags for when drunks potentially need a ride but feel like they are going to be sick?

I just barley hear Harry let out a frustrated sigh and turn to me.

"Try and relax love. Take deep breaths for me, alright." Harry whispers while rubbing my back as I'm slumped over his body, too disoriented to even hold my head up.

About 3 minutes later, I feel vomit rise up my throat. There isn't much I can to do. The driver already said he couldn't pull over, nor does he have sick bags. I sit up from my slouched position and clasp a hand over my mouth. My legs are bouncing up and down. I'm trying desperately not to puke but I'm doing a poor job. Harry is sitting up with me, trying to comfort me but his words are all a blur at this point.

"If you have to be sick darling, let it out. I'll pay to get this uber cleaned, okay." Harry states in my ear. I know he'd rather not have me puke on the floor of the uber, right beside him, but he can tell I'm struggling and in discomfort.

Hearing those words was all the conformation I needed. I remove my hand from my mouth and let out a gush of alcoholic bile spew from my mouth and onto the backseat floor board. Harry gathers my hair in his hands so it's not in my face. My vomit splatters all over my legs and on the bottom of Harry's Gucci suit. I'd feel terrible about that if I wasn't so out of it, but my mind is a mushed up blur.

"Shhh, that's it. You're alright." Harry reassures me. The uber driver lets out a sigh of disgust, but this is truly his fault that I'm throwing up in his uber right now anyways.

Heave after heave, I let out more of the alcohol that was poisoning my system, right onto the floor. It's not a pretty sight. I'm having a cold sweat and my body is trembling. Though Harry has a weak stomach, when it comes to his wife (me) or his kids, he can always handle a bit of throw up. Or a lot like currently. It's like a fatherly/husband instinct that comes over him and he feels only adrenaline, not yuck.

Finally I feel my stomach relax and I sit up, breathing heavy with vomit dripping down my chin. Without thinking, I wipe it off with the back of my hand and smear it on my already ruined dress. "Feeling better?" Harry asks in a low tone.

"Mhmm." I hum, not really feeling like talking. My drunken brain has cleared up some from the majority of the alcohol being out of my system, but I still feel the after affects drinking brings. I just lean my head on Harry's shoulder for the rest of the ride home and allow the cool breeze to blow on my face. The uber driver did us all a favor by rolling the windows down so we didn't suffocate on the nasty smell of my sick.

---------------------

After-

When we arrived home, Harry payed the uber driver, not giving much of a tip and told him that he'd have someone clean his car out in the morning. As well as a half assed apology for my incident beings it could have been prevented. Then carefully, Harry lifted me out the uber and carried me into our Los Angeles home. Good thing our kids were all asleep because they shouldn't have to see their mother like this. Covered in puke and half drunk.

Harry took me to our bathroom and quickly ran down stairs to pay our babysitter, hoping she didn't question my appearance when she saw my state as we came through the front door. She didn't thankfully and left soon after her check was handed to her. Harry came back up to where he left me and helped me clean up and get ready for bed.

He stripped us of our vomit covered clothes and helped me into the big walk-in shower we have in our master bathroom. Then after he delicately washed our bodies along with my hair, he helped us out and dried us off. We brushed our teeth, me with the help of my husband because I was still a bit dizzy. After we're clean of sick and smelt fresh, he helped me put some panties and a t-shirt over my nude body and boxers on himself; just incase our kids woke up and needed us for whatever reason.

Harry helped me into our large bed and tucked me in, bending down to kiss my forehead. Then he walked down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and a bucket incase I needed to be sick again at some point through-out the rest of the early morning. When he had all the items he intended to grab, Harry came back to our bedroom where I was already passed out with sleep.

So he just set the water on my night stand and the bucket on the floor, beside my side of the bed. Then Harry quietly exited our room and went to each of our child's bedrooms to make sure they were fine and still asleep like they should be, which they thankfully were.

When everything was done and taken care of, Harry turned the bedroom lights out and slipped in the covers with me. He helped my body scoot over and I cuddled into his warm body. I didn't realize it in my state of sleep but I knew when I awoke, I'll be thinking about how grateful I am to have a wonderful husband like Harry.

He takes such good care of me. He didn't get upset that I drank too much on his special night and accidently got wasted. He never once got upset that I basically got throw up on his expensive suit tonight in the uber. He didn't get annoyed that he had to shower both me and him past midnight, though he was exhausted. Harry loves taking care of me (and our kids) and wouldn't wish for any other life. Even when his life becomes chaotic and stressful. Harry loves his family dearly and his family love him just as much or more.

Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)

My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

Harry Styles Series - One Shots & Blurbs Masterlist

Harry Styles blurbs, concepts, & short stories Masterlist- (short writing with little to no dialog)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #husband!harry #dad!harry #harry styles sicfic #sicfic #harry styles grammys #grammys 2021 #harry styles comfort #soft!harry #husbandandwife #harry styles uber

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

*

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

*

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

#snacmc ttf #tempting the fates #rowaelin ttf #snacmc collab #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 12}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

* In case you missed the announcement - we will now be posting chapters 3 days a week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. We hope you continue to enjoy the story! 

** Trigger warning: Miscarriage. 

This chapter is legit a roller coaster, ngl. Enjoy. ;)

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Nesta stood in the living room of Elain’s house with Nyx on her hip, feeling guilty for dropping Nyx off for the night even though Elain was the one to offer. 

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Gives these little cousins some bonding time.” She reached out and took Nyx’s chubby little hand. “Besides, you and Cassian both need time to recoup.”

She wasn’t about to deny that. It had been a week since her not-date with Balthazar, a week since she and Cassian had uttered more than passing comments on how Nyx had acted throughout the day to each other.

Every time she looked at him, she found him already watching her and the fact got under her skin.

It became an unspoken thing that whenever she cooked dinner, she would make an extra helping and put it in the fridge for him. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because it made her feel better about their awkward arrangement. The longer time went on, the more she realized that as much as she’d been acting like taking care of Nyx together was a death sentence to her social life, he was going through the same thing.

And when she got home, she planned on making dinner for the two of them to share together. A sort of white flag of truce between them.

It was the least she could do. “Call me the second something happens-.”

“We’ll be fine,” Elain said, taking Nyx from Nesta and kissing her sister’s cheek. “Now, go. Relax. Take a bubble bath with some wine or something. Read one of those filthy books you used to hide in your closet.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed.

Elain’s smile widened.

After a tough goodbye, Nesta was heading toward her car and driving back home, making a quick stop at the grocery store just around the corner.

She quickly got all of her fixins, prepared to make one of her favorites - salmon, rice, and green beans. A glance at the calendar that morning told her he would probably be home around five, which gave her just under two hours to make dinner. Easily doable, she’d made three-course meals in less time, for much harsher customers.

Yet she couldn’t figure out why her stomach was in knots.

*

When Cassian came home, he opened the front door and froze. The quiet in the house unnerved him. Usually, there was some random white noise to fill the house, whether that was the television or one of Nyx’s inane toys that distracted him so well. But as he walked through the house, the TV wasn’t on and he couldn’t hear much of anything.

Until he heard a throat clear from the kitchen.

Instantly, Cassian was on alert, not liking the sound at all, recognizing who it had belonged to, but silently, he made his way into the kitchen.

Nesta was sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her, with an identical one at the spot he typically sat in.

“What’s…going on?” He asked, slowly taking another few steps into the kitchen.

Nesta stood and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, before taking it back over to where he hovered between the table and the doorway. She held the cold bottle out to him. “This is a truce.”

“A tru-?” He took it, but shook his head, not quite understanding her. “Where’s Nyx?”

“He is having a sleepover with Seph, Elain and Azriel. Elain wanted us to have a night off,” she said, sitting back down at her seat. “So I made us dinner.”

“You made us dinner?” he repeated, staring at the plates. “For the two of us to have? Together? At the same table?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, unless you don’t want it.”

Cassian cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out across from her and popped open his beer. “I won’t turn down free food. Especially when it’s made by an expert.” 

Nesta said nothing more as she cut into her salmon. “An expert?”

“You get paid for cooking,” Cassian said, picking up his fork and collecting a pile of green beans. “That makes you an expert. A professional.”

“This is a lot of compliments,” she said, watching him carefully as he ate.

“Maybe I’m jumping on board with this whole truce thing,” he said, mouth full of food.

Nesta wanted to chastise him about his manners, but bit her tongue. “You weren’t on board with it to begin with?”

He chewed slowly and then set his fork down. “Neither of us have…handled this very well,” he admitted, taking a drink from his beer. “And I’m willing to take a portion of the blame, but not all of it.”

Nesta weighed his words carefully. They were blunt, but not untrue. Sure, he’d acted like an ass many times, but she had only responded in kind. She knew she could be a bitch, and she knew she did it well. Sometimes too well.

“For this to be an official truce,” she began, holding her wine glass in her hand, swirling it once, twice, “there has to be terms we both agree on.” His eyebrows raised, but she pressed on before he could speak. “Mine are that we have to communicate. When you get frustrated or pissed at me, you can’t just bottle everything up until it all explodes. And when I get overwhelmed, I promise not to snap at you or act like such a…”

“A bitch?” He provided, when she stumbled over her words, smiling around the beer bottle pressed to his lips.

She wasn’t able to stop the smile growing on her own face, as she said, “Thank you, asshole. But yes. Those are my terms.”

He took a drink and nodded. “Okay. I think I can handle those.”

“And what are your terms?” She asked, cutting into the flaky fish for another bite.

He was quiet for a moment, debating. Nesta took a sip from her wine glass while she waited, watching as thought after thought passed across his face.

“I want to get to know you,” he said, finally. “I want to know who you are and I want you to know me.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side. It was a simple request, but Nesta wasn’t exactly good at allowing people to get to know rher. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

“A simple conversation will do,” he said, shrugging. “Over salmon and alcohol. Mostly alcohol.” He reached across the small table and picked up her wine bottle, filling up her wine glass to the brim. 

“Getting me drunk so that I open up?” Nesta asked, sipping from that wine glass.

Cassian chuckled. “I would never.”

She watched her for a second, before taking another larger drink and setting it down. “Fine. Then it’s a truce.” He smirked, glancing over the table between them and then leaned over to look on the counter. “What?”

“I’m just looking for an official notice.” His smirk grew into an all out grin. “Something to sign. I figured you’d called up Tarquin and had some official documents written up.”

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, reaching an open hand across the table.

“Truce,” he said, taking her hand in his. They shook once, and Cassian was struck by how much smaller her hand was than his, yet by how firm her grip was. It was an impressive, professional handshake.

“So what do you want to know?” She asked, scooping some rice onto her fork and getting a bite of fish to go along with it.

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it and she began to wonder whether they should have laid down some boundaries. But he asked, “You went to the University of Velaris, right? What did you study there?”

Nesta blinked in surprise, not having expected the question. “Business and marketing.”

Chewing slowly, Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing culinary?”

She shook her head. “No, I liked cooking, but I never thought it would become my career. I majored in business and marketing, with a minor in communications.”

“That sounds…” He fought for the words for a second. “Boring.”

Taking a drink of her wine, Nesta chuckled. “Oh, it was,” she admitted. “The longest four years of my life, but I’ve got the pretty, little diploma with my name written on it to show for them.”

“And how did you learn about food? How to cook?”

She shrugged. “I taught myself. I graduated college and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a data entry job at a marketing firm and spent my free time in the kitchen, trying and testing and tasting.” She paused, and her eyes fell to her plate. “Before my dad died, he listened to my idea about starting a small restaurant, with a few of my favorite recipes on the menu. He left me the money to do it in his will.”

“And now?” he pressed, although his voice held a certain gentleness. “Are you successful and thriving?”

Nesta snorted. “I make enough to live and pay the few of servers I have. If that’s successful, then I suppose.”

Cassian nodded in appreciation. “I’d say it is. What about the future? Bigger restaurant? Multiple restaurants?” 

“Someday,” Nesta said, with a longing in her voice. “And what about you? And your guitars? Surely you don’t want to be a bartender forever.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t mind the bartending. Good tips and I meet a lot of interesting people.”

“But?” Nesta asked. 

“But,” Cassian repeated, huffing a laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t exactly say that managing a bar is my passion.” 

“So, guitars then?” Nesta asked, brow raised. “You’re really talented. Your guitars are beautiful.”

Cassian’s eyes shot to hers, wide as he slowly set down his fork. “Holy shit, did you just compliment me?”

Nesta’s lips pursed as she kicked his shin under the table.

“I’ve always been good with my hands. Not like that,” he said, pointing at her when he saw the smirk growing. “I mean, creating things, playing instruments, even something as mundane as making drinks. If it’s something I can do with my hands, I typically love it and nine times out of ten, I’m good at it.” There was none of the cockiness she’d come to know in his voice. Just pure explanation, and a bit of devotion. “I’ve tried my hand at making furniture and little knickknacks, but there’s nothing that compares to building an instrument from scratch.”

“And you do it all? Yourself?” She asked, taking another bite.

He nodded. “I start with a few rough pieces of wood. Sand it, stain it, and boom, brand new guitar.”

Snorting, she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I think you may have missed a few steps in there.”

“Well, I didn’t want to bore you,” he chuckled.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Nesta asked, finishing off the last of her food.

Cassian took a minute to think about it, then shrugged, finishing off his beer. “As long as I can remember. I grew up with my mom in Illyria. They live simply up there. Music is…a way of life. It grew on me quickly. Mom bought me my first guitar that a friend of hers had made before I could even walk.”

Nesta chuckled, quietly. “Just like you did for Nyx.”

Cassian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her emptied glass.

“Sure,” she said. “But, wine is gone. I think there’s some tequila in the cabinet.”

Cassian lifted a brow as he rose. “Tequila?”

Nesta grinned as he went to the cabinet. “Make me a drink, bartender?”

Cassian laughed as he grabbed the glass bottle from the cabinet. “I can. What’ll it be? Tequila sunrise? Margarita? Pretty sure we have some lime juice, somewhere.”

“I’m not picky,” Nesta promised.

She heard him laugh. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Archeron.”

“Only where it counts,” she replied, smiling at him. She picked up their empty plates and rinsed them off, loading them into the dishwasher. Turning, she found him setting a shot glass with salt on the rim down on the counter. She chuckled. “That’s not what I asked for.”

“First of all, you technically didn’t ask for anything in particular,” he said, pointing at her as he crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Secondly, this is the most classic drink I can make you with tequila. It’s the oldest recipe in the books.”

She outright laughed. “That’s cause it’s just straight tequila.”

“Exactly,” he grinned and damn it, if her heart didn’t skip a beat. “I lied, no lime juice.”

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if I’m doing sloppy shots, you’re joining me.”

“Oh, I never say no to shots,” he said, grabbing another from the cabinet. 

He filled them up, and slid one to Nesta, who took the glass in her hand and held it up.

Cassian clinked his against hers, and they tossed them back. 

Nesta’s face didn’t change a bit, and Cassian met her steady eyes. “Impressive.” 

“Not my first tequila shot, Nazari,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter. “What else do you want to ask me?”

He leaned down on the countertop, letting his arms lay flat. “Hmm.” He let his fingers drum quietly. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Or was it always a chef?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I was convinced I was going to be a doctor, I wanted to help people. But then I found out how many years of school was required to be a doctor. So I decided I wanted to be a nurse.”

Cassian carefully poured a couple more shots. “And what happened to that dream?”

“I found out that the sight of blood makes me queasy. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I pass out.”

He laughed. “That seems like enough to throw off a career plan.”

“Yep,” she admitted, picking her wine glass up.

Cassian filled up the shot glasses, once more, and slid hers back to her. She set down her wine glass and snorted as she tossed it back.

“You know what we should do?” Nesta asked, and Cassian lifted a brow in question. “Go for a swim. We’ve been here over a month and have yet to use the pool that I’ve been cleaning, daily.”

Cassian took his shot before watching her, closely. “Last one in has to share their deepest, darkest secret.”

Nesta scoffed. “What are we, children?”

Cassian grinned as he pushed himself back from the counter. “Scared of a little competition? Afraid to lose?”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nesta jumped off the counter, and ran up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit.

Cassian and his heavy footsteps were close behind.

It took her a few minutes to remember where her swimsuits had been packed, and from the slamming of drawers down the hall, it seemed Cassian was in a similar predicament. She finally found a two piece stuffed in the back of her underwear drawer, not exactly what she had been looking for, and hesitated before stripping down and pulling the bottoms on. Nesta was out her bedroom door before she even had the top fully tied, pulling it into a hastily tied bow behind her back. Her feet carried her as she flew down the stairs, but she froze when she opened the sliding glass door and found him already in the water.

He grinned from where he had his muscular arms resting on the side of the pool, and his hair was soaked, pushed back off of his face. With the wide smile on his face, he looked so much younger, almost boyish.

With a sigh, Nesta turned and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers in each hand and made her way back onto the lit up patio.

“I win,” he said, smirking up at her.

The tongue she stuck out at him wasn’t her most quick witted response, but she was trying not to let her eyes drift beneath the water. When she suggested the pool, she hadn’t been thinking of how much skin would be on display, for either of them.

“That’s because you only had one piece to put on,” Nesta said, sitting near him by the edge and handing him a drink.

“Hey, if you only wanted to put on one of those pieces, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he protested, and Nesta had to hide the way his suggestive tone, those words, made her blush. 

He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he popped open his beer and took a long, slow drink.

“So how about that secret?” He asked, voice lowering. 

“Hmmm,” she crooned, tapping her chin. “Which to share when I have so many to choose from?”

Cassian chuckled. “You would have an endless string of secrets. Come on, what skeletons are in your closet? Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

Nesta had a lot of those, too. She wasn’t exactly the “open” type.

There was one true secret she kept though. One that no one else had known, not even Feyre or Elain. Just her and…

She hesitated and he looked up at her, caught the look on her face. “What?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to kill the mood.”

The hand holding the bottle was right next to her thigh, and he let his pinky skim over her skin. “That kind of secret, huh?”

She gnawed into her lip, nodding.

“I’ll tell you mine, if it helps,” Cassian said, looking up into her face.

She slipped into the pool, thankful the water was warm, and shook her head. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

He stayed quiet, letting her process her own thoughts.

Sinking beneath the water, Nesta re-emerged, slicking her hair back. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m sure you remember Tomas, my ex who interrupted our date?”

The mention of their date surprised Cassian, after so many weeks of them dancing around it. He nodded.

“We were together for a long time, you know? All through college.” She wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t meet his eye. “I got pregnant just after our senior year. I had never wanted kids, you know? Wasn't the family type, at all. Never saw myself having a family. Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter. I miscarried.”

Cassian continued to look at her, continued to watch as she stared blankly ahead. 

“I got excited about it, too, which is ridiculous,” she went on. “For a moment, for those few weeks that I thought Tomas and I would be starting a family… I actually got excited.”

“How far along were you?” He asked, gently.

She answered immediately, with no hesitation. “Thirteen weeks. It was like one day I was pregnant, carrying our child and the next… The baby was gone.” She was quiet for a moment. “I woke up one morning and there was blood, so much blood. Tom was already at work, so I drove myself to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”

Cassian recognized the slow blinking, knew she was reliving those slow, sad moments again.

“I was dying inside, trying to come to terms with the fact that our baby was gone, and Tomas got home and-.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “He asked what I was making for dinner. He didn’t even acknowledge that our child was gone and… l guess that’s when I decided to do the same. To pretend nothing happened. We didn’t really talk much about it. We never told our families, I never told Feyre or Elain. Our father died about a month later and it all seemed so insignificant at that point. But Tom and I never recovered, our relationship at least. We broke up a few months later and…” Nesta shrugged. “Life kept going. I decided to open my restaurant and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, quietly.

She finally looked at him and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful of a memory,” he countered.

She just nodded. “It’s how it was supposed to be though, right? Wasn't meant to be.”

Cassian took another drink as he nodded, slowly.

“Anyway,” she began, clearing her throat before dunking herself back down under the water.

“Would you like my secret?” He asked, when she turned and rested her arms on the edge of the pool.

She shrugged. “If you feel so inclined. You didn’t lose the bet.”

He leaned back, letting his arms drape across the edge of the pool as well. “When I was eighteen, I broke my back. I decided to take a year off before I started school, and was working construction over the summer to save money. I wanted to travel for a while. But then I took a bad fall off a roof. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then was stuck in my bed for another ten. And Rhys and Az stayed by my side the whole time. They put off their last hoorah vacations before they went off to college to stay with me.”

Nesta’s eyes drifted to Cassian, drops falling from her lashes. “Doesn’t seem like a secret if people know about it.” 

“You didn’t know,” he shot back.

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fair. That sounds awful.”

“It was,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t like to stay still for very long.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Nesta said, a little spark returning to her eye. “It was torture,” he followed, finishing off his drink. “Not being able to move. I played so many damn board games that I never want to look at one ever again.”

“Even if Nyx asks?” Nesta inquired.

Cassian gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s the exception.” Nesta laughed, and Cassian shook his head. “I’d do anything for that kid. I think Rhys knew that, when he named me godfather.”

She understood that, related to it completely. Especially considering they had been named godparents together, regardless of their mutual distaste for the other. Their love for Nyx, for Rhys and Feyre, had been evident to everyone.

“I miss him,” she admitted, resting her cheek on the concrete. “I know it’s only one night, and I’m beyond appreciative, but… It’s weird not having him right inside.”

He nodded. “I get it. I do, too. I know Az and Elain can take care of him, and I’m sure he had a blast with Seph before they went to bed, but it hasn’t stopped me worrying about him.”

Nesta nodded, stretching her back. She took a drink from her beer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?”

He blew out a harsh breath and drained his own bottle before answering. “I never really considered it much, when I was younger. After my back healed, I was so focused on getting back to life that relationships and dating weren’t high on my priority list-.”

“But fucking was?” Nesta asked, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly with a shoulder. “Maybe I was interested in sex more than relationships, I’ll admit. But before I knew it, my early twenties had come and gone. Everyone I knew was getting married and had babies on the way and… I was still the one living the bachelor life and decided to just run with it.”

“I get that,” Nesta agreed. “After…everything that happened with Tomas, I never wanted that again. My date with you and my date with Balthazar are the only two proper dates I’ve been on since college.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “And have you been on any improper dates?”

Nesta didn’t answer. Instead, her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she finished off her beer.

Cassian’s grin widened. “I never knew you were such a freak, Archeron.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered, which just made him laugh harder. 

“I must admit, it’s nice to hear you talking about our infamous date so often tonight,” Cassian said, pulling himself out of the pool.

Nesta couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed, how the drops of water streamed down his back, between his shoulders, down to his waistline and the swim trunks, which rode low on his hips. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t say anything nice about that date, did I?”

“Absolutely not, but is there really anything nice to say?” he asked, sliding the screen door open. “I mean, you were an absolute nightmare.”

She gawked after him as he went inside, and once he came back with a small pyramid of beer cans, Nesta said, “I was a nightmare? You were a complete disaster!”

He scoffed, setting the cans down and cannon balling back into the pool. Even though she was already in the water, Nesta couldn’t help the squeal that left her. Cassian was grinning when he came up for air. “I forgot my wallet. I fully intended to pay you back, both monetarily and with the best sex you’d ever had in your life, but you decided to get huffy, stomp back to your front door and slam it in my face.”

“Oh, please,” Nesta said, reaching for a can and popping it’s top. Foam erupted from the opening and she put her mouth to it before it could drip into the pool. “You were over twenty minutes late, you wore work boots and a leather jacket to the nicest restaurant in Velaris, and we ran into your fuck buddy.” She drank deeply from the can, emptying it in one go. “As for the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I’ve become very accustomed to and am just fine with my own hand, so you’re going to have to try pretty hard to do better than I myself can.”

She wiggled her fingers in his face and before she could register what was happening, his hand was wrapped around her own. As if he didn’t already know that. Cassian had caught her getting herself off in the bathtub, a memory that was seared into both of their heads. He tugged her closer and the empty can fell from her hands, floating on top of the water.

“I was talking about the past, sweetheart, but you seem to be talking about the present,” he breathed as her chest brushed against his own. “Who says my offer still stands all these years later?”

“You’d be a fool not to make that offer,” she breathed, and she knew the scent of beer was all he was breathing in. 

“And would you accept it if I were?” he asked, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other snaking its way around her waist. “Still offering?” 

Nesta’s breath hitched as their mouths grew so close, too close, close enough to reach out and taste his lips with a brush of her tongue.

It was tempting.

It would be stupid. Alcohol fogging her brain or not, Nesta knew it would be stupid.

But it was tempting, and in that moment, there were very few things Nesta could think about other than his hands against her skin, his lips a breadth width away from her own, and his cock she could very prominently feel twitching against her thigh. 

Nesta’s lips brushed softly against his as she said, “Try and find out.” 

#nessian #snacmc #snacmc lawki #modern au #lawki #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acosf

[httpsaiki]

Saiki with an s/o who just cups his cheeks and tells him they live him for the first time ever.

Hi! This is adorable, thank you so much for this request!! I did a story, not headcanons and it kind of got off track, but I hope you like it!

—

I went into way too much detail about cupcakes in this, I got carried away, oops. I'm back, though! After months I finally refound my love for this show and along with it my inspiration for writing! I hope this isn't too bad, I wrote it all in one go. I have been writing a personal project, but I doubt I've improved that much in the last couple months. Thank you if you read this! I hope to have more to post soon!

Reader is gender neutral!

WC: 1533

Italics represents Saiki speaking telepatically!

Saiki with a S/O who cups his cheeks and tells him they love him for the first time.

—————————————————–

Your week had been anything but easy. Balancing a school and social life wasn’t supposed to be easy, sure, but this was getting ridiculous. It seemed every assignment was due at some point this past week and every class had some sort of test or exam. On top of everything, your friend group decided it was the perfect time to meet up to study nearly every single day. It was completely and entirely exhausting. You hardly got a free moment to yourself.

To make matters worse, you hadn’t seen Kusuo the entire time. He was part of your friend group, yeah, but by some miracle, he managed to dodge every study session. It was almost like he had superpowers. On most weeks like this, Kusuo was the only thing that could get you through it, being around him was oddly healing - even if he’s a jerk about it sometimes, you miss him dearly. He had some sort of ability to keep you calm and content, just being around him was enough to relieve some of the day's stress. Kusuo was there for you no matter what, whether he was willing to admit that or not. You knew it to be true and he knows you know. That’s enough.

You could feel him rolling his eyes if you were to tell him anything you just thought, that is. That never stopped you, though, you needed to make sure he knows you care for him. No, care is not a strong enough word. You’re sure you love him, there’s no doubt in your mind. How can you go about telling him? He of all people definitely deserves to know he’s loved.

Plotting how you’d tell Kusuo that you love him turned out to be a fantastic stress reliever. Laughing all you want about the cheesy, made-up scenarios you come up with did wonders to calm you down. Anything from a mock proposal on the beach, to screaming it off a cliff. Most of them weren’t realistic, nor to either of your tastes. But they were fun, and that’s all that mattered. You finally decided on telling him the one way you knew he’d like best. Sweets. Content with your idea, you prepared for bed. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

You woke bright and early. So early, in fact, that the sun had hardly even began to rise. There was work to be done. Quietly, you made your way down to the kitchen, careful enough not to wake anyone up. You decided on a quick and easy breakfast, you could never go wrong with toast. While the bread was toasting, you got out cupcake trays and your cake recipe, reading it over and gathering any ingredients you need. You left any ingredients that needed to be refrigerated in the fridge but prepared measuring cups and bowls for them. Anything that didn’t need to be kept cold was put into the appropriate bowl - wet or dry. As you were measuring out the last of your dry ingredients, you heard a faint pop from the toaster and decided it was time to take a break and eat. Your toast was surprisingly good, probably because you felt you worked for it.

Now was for the easier parts, combining the rest of your recipe and then pouring it into the cupcake trays. You went about your day, waiting for them to finish baking and then cool down. Once they were cool, it was around lunchtime. The perfect time to finish them up with icing. Carefully, you took your time to write out “I love u Kusuo!” Putting each character on its own cupcake - unfortunately having to shorten the “you” so that it would fit on the 12 of them. To add a final touch, you added a couple small heart candies onto some of them. They looked great and you were proud of your work.

As soon as the cupcakes were packaged up and ready to go, you headed immediately out the door. Kusuo didn’t usually like when you showed up suddenly or unannounced, but you carried treats and an important message this time. You were sure he wouldn’t mind too much.

The walk to his house was uneventful as always. You were lucky enough not to run into anyone you knew on the way there. You didn’t want to have to explain yourself and a small part of you expected that running into somebody would only strike disaster - similar to the past week. There was a small skip in your step on the way there, happy to finally see Kusuo after that long, painful week. You didn’t let any of your nerves get to you. Kusuo would take your message well. He had to.

Or, that’s what you were telling yourself as you nervously stood at his doorway. Ringing his doorbell had never been so frightening. You braved it, though, and your finger found its way up to his doorbell. The muffled ring could be heard even from the outside and approaching footsteps that sounded awfully familiar came shortly after.

When the door opened you were greeted with the face you craved to see all week. He looked as unbothered as ever, but the second he stepped aside and his arm gestured to let you in you knew he was happy to see you. With a smile on your face, you went to step inside and-

Apparently, your awful week had yet to cease. Right as you walked in the door, towards Kusuo, your foot caught the bottom of the doorframe. You tripped on it, the box of cupcakes falling along with you. "Oh!” It came out choked and as if you hadn’t meant to say it at all, “No!”

You quickly peeked inside of the box. The icing writing you had worked so hard on was smudged, no longer legible. They were still edible, but the message had been erased. Kusuo was staring down at the cupcakes, an almost puzzled expression on his face. He kept the same expression as his eyes met yours.

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly, “they were for you, I didn’t mean to- to make a mess of them.”

Kusuo only nodded, but it was enough to tell you there was no problem and you hadn’t even needed to apologize. He wasn’t mad.

“Listen, Kusuo I,” you cut yourself off, now that the cupcakes weren’t an option how did you want to tell him?

“Screw it.” You muttered under your breath as you stood up from the ground, dusting yourself off. Now back on your feet, you quickly reached up, placing both your hands on Kusuo’s cheeks. Your thumbs found their way right on his cheekbones, running softly along them. The rest of your fingers could reach to his hair and you had to resist completely tangling them in it. His expression was entirely neutral once more, at the very least he wasn’t offended by your actions.

“I really love you, Kusuo.”

He smiled. He actually smiled. It was genuine, it was beautiful, everything you could’ve asked for and more. His hands were in your cheeks too at this point and he had an uncharacteristically intense look in his eyes.

“I really love you, too.”

Such a simple statement and yet you could feel your cheeks burning up from it. Even worse, his hands were on his face so he could feel it too. He was so close, still smiling at you. You’d never imagined his face was capable of making such a dopey, lovesick smile and yet here he is. And then he hugged you. Tight. He’d never held you like that before, it was so loving and warm. It hardly lasted a couple seconds, so short that you were almost sure you imagined it. As soon as you registered it, it was over, and Kusuo’s normal, unbothered expression remained on his face.

“We shouldn’t let your hard work go to waste, should we? Want to come enjoy these with me?” Kusuo moved down to pick up the box, staring down at them in admiration even if they were a mess by now. You didn’t bother to reply to him, still slightly in shock. You chose to simply follow after him into the other room as he placed the box on a table. Kusuo wasted no time in grabbing one of the cupcakes, his signature sweets-eating-face taking over as soon as he took a bite. It was endearing, to say the least. As if he sensed your hesitation, he nudged the box towards you, encouraging you to take one as well. Despite their state, they still tasted amazing, all your hard work really paid off.

The rest of the day was spent comfortably. You refused to leave Kusuo’s side after everything that happened. You took to ranting about your week and how much you missed him while sat comfortably next to him, right where you wanted to be. Maybe the past week was worth it. You finally got to tell Kusuo you love him and got plenty of time together to make up for it. It had been bad, but like all the times before, Kusuo had a way of making you feel better.

#the disasterous life of saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #saiki #my writing

[intheticklecloset]

Give Me Attention! (My Hero Academia)

One Shot

My very first TodoDeku shipping fic! I think it’s a really cute one, too! Thank you so much for the challenge, second anon! It was a lot of fun to tackle and then reread later! I obviously included the two numbers the first anon requested, as well as the numbers that were never requested for any fic (which was really satisfying). I’m not going to post all the numbered prompts that ended up in this fic, because there are far too many of them. But for the record, there are 24/36 prompts in this story. Enjoy! ^^

10. “I’m not going to do anything.” “Then why are you smirking?”

11. “You’re so adorable!”

~

“I’m going to die of boredom,” Deku mumbled into Todoroki’s chest, sighing dramatically.

Todoroki glanced down at him. “We’re ten minutes in.”

“I’ve seen this already.”

“Therefore you’re bored of it already?”

Deku looked up at him, pouting. “I want you to give me attention. Not some movie. And this is a long one, too!”

Todoroki couldn’t help but smile. They were curled up together on his bed, using a laptop to watch the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. They’d barely reached the introduction of Captain Jack Sparrow before Deku grew restless.

“All right,” he conceded. “Let’s make things interesting. How about every time we hear the word ‘pirate’ or some variation of it, I tickle you?”

Deku stiffened in his arms, but before he could pull away, Todoroki wrapped an arm around his waist and held him close. “B-But…this is a pirate movie!” He protested, then yelped with giggles when fingers dug into his side. “Hehehehey!”

“You said the word,” Todoroki said calmly, smirking. “I told you what would happen. You were asking for that one.”

“But this isn’t fair! It’s a pira—ugh, this movie is about that!” Deku tried to push himself away, but his boyfriend only held him tighter. “Shoto!”

Todoroki pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t move, Izuku.” Deku promptly ignored him, still trying to wiggle his way free. Todoroki curled his fingers into his ribs, making him giggle again. “I said quit squirming.”

“Make me!” the green-haired boy shot back, using his flimsy purchase on Todoroki’s chest to reach under his arm and dig in.

Todoroki jerked, laughing, then quickly snatched up Deku’s wrists and held onto them firmly, pulling his boyfriend’s back to his front and wrapping his free hand around his middle. “Oh, you really shouldn’t have done that.”

Deku was still giggling, even without the stimulation. It was obvious he was having more fun than he was letting on. “Let me go!”

At that moment, the word “pirate” floated to their ears from one of the characters, making Todoroki chuckle and Deku start squirming again, already helpless with mirth. “I’m not even touching you yet. You’re so adorable.”

“Take that back!”

Todoroki scoffed. “I will not. You’re really not in a position to be snarky with me, now are you, Midoriya?” The icy-hot hero slid his free hand under Deku’s shirt to scribble at his belly and belly button, grinning at the way his boyfriend snickered and quivered beneath his touch. “I guess I’m going to have to teach you a lesson, aren’t I?”

“Noooo,” Deku whined playfully, squirming. “Dohohohohon’t!”

“Don’t what?”

“Tihihihihickle me!”

“Tickle you? Why, of course I will!” Todoroki switched to pinching up and down his sides and ribs.

Deku’s giggling quickly turned into laughter. “Stohohohohohohop! You knohohohohow I cahahahahan’t take being teheheheheheased like thahahahahahahahat!”

“Aww, well that’s too bad, isn’t it?” Another “pirate” came their way. Todoroki lifted Deku’s pinned wrists and slid his free hand up to his now open underarm. “Oh, dear. How unfortunate for you that the trigger word is ‘pirate’ in a pirate movie. And it’s a long one, too!”

Deku was in hysterics already, kicking frantically as he tried to fight Todoroki off of him. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“Aww, does this tickle?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“How cute. Too bad you wanted me to give you attention instead of the movie. Are you sorry yet?”

Deku actually managed to scoff through his laughter. “NOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“Oh?” Todoroki leaned down to murmur in his ear. “You want me to tickle you that bad?”

“GAH!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! SHOTO STAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!!”

“Oh, but I can’t stop now! You just admitted yourself that you’re having too much fun~”

“STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!” The green-haired hero turned his face away from his boyfriend, still laughing loudly.

“Aw, look at that blush! Don’t try to hide it,” Todoroki cooed playfully. When Deku attempted to bury his face even more, Todoroki decided to pull out the big guns. “Hey, stop resisting me.” He grabbed onto his boyfriend’s hip and squeezed, relishing in the loud shriek that he pulled from his lungs, followed by even harder thrashing. “You’re feisty tonight, aren’t you, giggle bug?”

Deku tossed his head back and dissolved into silent laughter, fighting growing weaker as his hysterics overtook him. Todoroki laughed with him in the moments before the smaller boy gasped for breath and cried, “DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T CAHAHAHAHAHAHAHALL ME THAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!!”

“Aw, but why? It’s such a cute name, and it fits you so well!”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“All right then, how about tickle bug?”

“SHOTO, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! THAT’S WOHOHOHOHOHORSE!!”

Todoroki laughed again. “Tickle bug is worse than giggle bug? Why?”

Deku’s struggling had reached its most frantic at this point, so much so that he was beginning to slide off the bed. Unfortunately, that left his torso even more exposed than it was before.

“What’s the matter, Izuku? Don’t like hearing the word ‘tickle’?”

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE, SHOTO--!!”

“But it’s such a lovely word! Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

Deku was losing his mind laughing, struggling so much his lower half started falling to the floor, making his shirt ride up to expose his bare torso. Todoroki grinned, fully in the moment now, the movie long forgotten. “Aw, am I teasing you too much? Poor, ticklish little Izuku~ Let’s count your ribs, shall we? Since you’ve gone to the trouble of showing them off for me~”

“NOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Deku pleaded, but it was useless, as in the next moment he felt his boyfriend’s wicked fingers scratching and raking their way up and down his ribcage, sending him into another fit of cackles. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

After another few long, torturous moments, Todoroki decided that the position they were both in now was both too uncomfortable and awkward to continue, so with one final tweak to the ribs, he released his hold on his boyfriend and watch him slump off the bed entirely, gasping for breath on the floor.

Todoroki chuckled at the mess he’d made of his partner, satisfied with himself. “Happy now?”

Deku let out another few breathless giggles. “I’ll get you for that, Shoto.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t have it in you right now.”

“Are you sure about that?”

In the next instant, Todoroki suddenly found himself being shoved back onto the mattress, the laptop tumbling ungracefully to the floor, but neither of the boys were paying attention to that anymore. The icy-hot hero stared up at Deku in surprise as he towered above him, grinning mischievously.

Todoroki blushed, suddenly feeling shy. He knew exactly what was about to happen, and though he did enjoy being tickled by his boyfriend, the way he lost control of himself and his laughter still made him self-conscious. “Izuku, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to…you know…”

Deku smiled sweetly at him. “I’m not going to do anything.”

“Then why are you smirking?”

“Because you’re just so cute when you’re flustered.” The smaller hero gently took his wrists and pinned them to either side of his head, swinging a leg over to straddle him. “Not so confident when the tables are turned, are you, Shoto?”

Todoroki pressed his lips together, averting his eyes. He knew Deku was right, but being called out for it didn’t make him any less embarrassed.

Suddenly, he let out a small “eep!” when Deku started swirling a finger around his belly button teasingly. He was helpless to the soft snickers that escaped his lips at the feeling.

Deku grinned. “I was going to see how long you could go without laughing, but I guess that’s a moot point, isn’t it?”

“Izuku,” Todoroki begged, grabbing onto his boyfriend’s shoulder with his free hand, the other still pinned by his head. “Please, don’t tease me like that. Just tickle me already!”

“Oh?” Deku chuckled. “All right, all right. Lucky for you I’m not as mean as some boyfriends in the room.” With that, he shoved his hands under both of Todoroki’s arms and drilled, making the normally quiet icy-hot hero throw his head back and laugh very, very loudly.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! MIDORIYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Deciding to be a little mean, Deku teased, “Hey, Shoto, can you give me attention now? Huh? Can you? Can you give me attention? I want attention! Why aren’t you listening to me?”

Todoroki screamed with laughter, the teasing making him hysterical. “SHUHUHUHUHUHUT UP, IZUKU, OH MY GOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOD!!”

Deku laughed. “No can do, Shoto. You’re far too fun to play with! Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

The two of them spent the better part of their movie night like that, taking turns tickling the crap out of each other, neither of them giving an inch until they were both too exhausted from laughing to do anything more than flop onto each other and fall asleep on the bed.

And the next morning, when Todoroki woke up to find that his laptop had been drained of its battery life due to the forgotten pirate movie, he started their tickle war all over again.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #izuku #midoriya #deku #shoto #todoroki #tododeku #movie night #cute #fluff #flirty #fun #tickling #ticklish #tickle

[huggybearsunshine]

The Few Things

Okay this started as a short little post series fic about Cas feeling comfortable expressing himself more freely once the boys get him back, but it kind of grew… and is still growing. I can’t stop so enjoy however long this story ends up being! [Part 1]

Something Dean hadn’t expected when they got Cas back, was how emboldened he’d become. If he was being honest, he expected him to be shy… embarrassed even… unsure, at least. But no. Cas had gotten a taste of being open and there was no going back. The two hadn’t really talked about where they stood, and Cas didn’t seem to assume either way. Instead, he kept testing the waters- flirting and touching to see how Dean would react.

That morning was no different. Sam was seated at the table, mid-conversation with Dean as he made breakfast, when Castiel made his appearance. His hair all over the place and wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Dean had to admit, he made a pretty cute human- all tired and grumpy.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Dean smiled and motioned with his spatula, “Coffee pot is still pretty full.”

“Thank you, Dean,” he sighed, voice unbelievably low.

He passed Dean, letting his hand run along the hunter’s shoulders in a very friendly show of appreciation.

Sam snorted, mid sip, and splashed coffee out of his cup.

Dean glared at him before focusing on the stove once more, a welcome distraction as he was almost certain he might be blushing.

He hadn’t talked to Sam about any of it; the confession, his own complicated feelings on the matter, none of it. It really wasn’t his fault for being confused, but Dean would really rather the matter not come up with both of them at the same time.

“So Cas,” Dean held his breath as his brother spoke, “Now that you’re human… presumably for good… what do you think you want to do next? Any hobbies you wanna try or things you want to buy for yourself?”

“Yeah, I gotta say, we really screwed up your human experience last time so…” Dean added, looking over toward Cas’ awaiting gaze, “Whatever you want…”

The end of his sentence hung heavy between them for a beat before Sam cleared his throat.

Dean jumped a little as his gaze dropped back onto the stovetop. He poured the eggs and bacon onto two, large plates and headed toward the table with them.

“I think I’d like to visit Claire,” Cas spoke up, finally deciding to answer Sam’s question, as he lazily made his way to the table to join them, “She says she wants to take me shopping.”

“We haven’t seen Jody since everything happened so that actually sounds great,” Sam replied as he added a small portion of eggs to his plate and grimaced at the bacon.

“But I’m going with you and Claire if you’re picking out clothes,” Dean pointed at Cas with his fork.

Sam laughed and raised a questioning eyebrow at him, “Getting into fashion?”

“Dude, it’s Claire…” Dean turned the fork toward him before digging it into his eggs, “There’s no telling what he’d come back wearing if it’s just them…”

Cas watched over the rim of his coffee mug, looking more content than Dean had ever seen him. The hunter couldn’t help it if the tug at his mouth won out or that his voice seemed to decide to speak before he even knew what he was saying.

“Humanity looks good on you…”

And whoa, that tone was not one you usually used to speak to your best friend over breakfast. Sam yet again almost choked and Cas just looked at Dean with these eyes-

“Guys, I’m right here-” Sam brought up amusedly as his eyes darted between the two other men, “And is there something I should know?”

“No, I’m just gonna go get a shower and get ready to head to Jody’s so.. figure out who’s doing the dishes before we leave,” Dean’s brain awkwardly provided as he hurried from the room.

Cas reached over to grab Dean’s abandoned plate as well as his own and was halfway standing when Sam spoke.

“Cas-”

“I can do the dishes, Sam, it’s fine,” Cas cut him off but Sam was determined.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” the younger Winchester returned.

“I know,” Cas surprised Sam and himself as he slammed the dishes down.

He took a moment to collect himself before picking them back up and turning to walk them to the sink, “I don’t mean this in a hurtful way, but I feel like this is not of your business.”

“None of my business, and yeah, you’re probably right…” Sam grabbed the remaining plates Cas had ignored and approached slowly, “But that implies there is something to talk about… between you and Dean?”

“Not between, well yes, I guess between,” Cas abandoned the dishes and faced Sam, “I told him how I feel about him and nothing more. I don’t want you to have the wrong idea.”

“Nothing more… Cas that’s still huge,” Sam’s head tilted, “He’s actually handling things remarkably well for Dean at least…” He seemed to snap back, “How are you? What happened when you told him?”

“I’m fine, Sam, but again, I think this is not of your concern…”

“I just care about you both, I’m sorry,” Sam put up a hand in front of him to show his surrender, “Just know you can talk to me if you ever need, okay?”

“Yes, thank you… I appreciate that,” the former Angel responded softly before turning back to the task at hand.

The kitchen was clean and empty when Dean swung back through so he headed to his room to grab a few things for the trip. He came to a sudden stop, however, when he found Cas standing shirtless in his room.

“I have nothing to wear… I hope it’s okay if I borrow something?” the former Angel asked, holding up two of Dean’s t-shirts.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine, I’m just gonna grab Sam,” he began to duck away but not before adding, “Wear the blue one.”

Cas’ hand tightened around the shirt in question as he watched Dean disappear from view, “Yes, Dean…”

Dean didn’t stop at Sam’s doorway, moving into the room instead and shutting the door behind him with an almost panicked look on his face.

“Whoa, you okay?” Sam asked, stopping midway through lacing his boots.

“I’m… hmm… Sammy, I might be in over my head…”

The younger of the two looked shocked, eyebrows rising and foot falling from his hand and to the floor.

“Is this a heart-to-heart?” Sam grinned, “Dare I say, a chick-flick moment?”

“Not if you keep talking it’s not…” Dean practically growled.

“Yeah, fair enough…” Sam schooled his face into his listening expression, turning his shoulders toward the other man, “What’s up?”

“Cas, he… well there’s no other way to put it really, he confessed his love for me, and… I don’t know what to do with that- what am I supposed to do with that?” Dean finally took a breath and his eyes found Sam’s.

“What do you want to do with that?” Sam asked cautiously.

An almost pained expression washed over Dean’s face at this thought, and he tore his eyes away, “Come on, Sam…”

“Think about it,” the younger Winchester offered, standing and crossing over to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “You don’t have to know right now… it’s okay.”

A knock at the door prevented any further discussion, and with another pat to Dean’s shoulder, Sam moved to reach for the door and pull it open.

“Everyone ready?” Cas asked tentatively from the hallway.

Sam turned back to his brother with a questioning look.

“Yeah, you guys go ahead and I’ll meet you in the garage in a few,” Dean’s eyes caught on the blue shirt- his blue shirt- as he looked over before rising toward the matching pair of eyes, “I’ll… um be there in a few…”

“Yeah,” Sam grinned, throwing him a look before brushing passed the two, “You said that.”

Cas nodded and followed behind him in his retreat, glancing back over his shoulder before they rounded the corner and catching Dean’s eye for just a moment.

A loud breath escaped him as soon as the two were out of sight, and he was able to think clearly again.

“This should be fun…” he sighed as he made his way to his room to gather his things.

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