Tumgik
#tumblr prompts
iamafanofcartoons · 1 year
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Tumblr Folklore Stories/Blogs Directory/Masterlist
There are so many great Tumblr Blog stories here! But things are best when organized! Here you are! I’m going to use Tumblr Blaze in a couple weeks to spread this to everyone, but if all of you can reblog this to everyone you know, we can spread the joys of Tumblr to EVERYONE!
Credit to https://www.tumblr.com/dannnnnnnnnnnnex/700073427344736256/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the
The God of Arepo (graphic novel 1 / 2 / 3) (ebook)
The Monster of Sentan
The Witch’s Cat
Raise Both Children
Stabby the Roomba (honorable mention)
Cinderella Marries the Prince (comic)
My Arch Nemesis Cynthia
Pirates and Mermaid
Eindred and the Witch
The Demon King
The Cornerwitch
Grandmother Beetroot
Apocalypse Daycare Worker
Grandmother Accidentally Summons a Demon
New Year Saga
A Story About Changelings
Ranger in the King’s Forest
The Difference Between a Hare and a Rabbit
Goblin Men (Canines)
Faceblind Prince Charming and Cinderella
 The human who died of radiation poisoning after repairing the spaceship
The defeat of the wizard who made people choose how they’d be to be executed
Doctors Without Borders
The Queen with Three Cursed Children
25. Tiny Dragon with one coin hoard
26. Haunted house
27. Shark hero was about to go rogue
28. Grandma lives in the woods comic
29. A Different Aftermath comic
30. Battery (microstory but I love it so much)
31. It’s A Date comic
32. Supervillian kidnaps rival’s kid and they want to stay
33. Narrative Town
34. I have been hired to clean the wizard tower comic
35. Robot Apocalypse
36. The Statues That Do Not Weather
37. Kushiel
38. Tooth Fairy
39. Alien abduction
40. Felonious wish-granting
41. When humans met actual space orcs
42. Space cousins
Well, now they’re categorized.
 https://www.tumblr.com/inkvoices/700033965299531776/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the
https://www.tumblr.com/lightningladybug/699931426130444288/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the
https://www.tumblr.com/blitzlowin/699840636252225536/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the
Also, this is a RWBY-positivity BLOG, so please watch RWBY
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loserdiaz · 1 year
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a bunch of prompts i like and want to write/read
pining after your best friend and refusing to admit your feelings but making up ridiculous excuses to spend time together. like seriously, at least come up with a decent excuse, this is just pathetic at this point.
going as each other’s “platonic” date to a mutual friend’s wedding (who are you kidding?)
i just found out i have magic and shit keeps going so wrong and oh god what did i just do to my crush/lover/whatever HOW DO I FIX IT
we work in the same office and you have a goddamn squeaky chair and you wONT FUCKING STOP SQUEAKING IT BECAUSE YOU KNOW IT ANNOYS ME
I don't think you understand how much your good morning texts legitimately keep me from rotting in bed all day 
my love is your arm stuck in the claw machine. you were going to steal that prize for me?? oh my gosh. let me rescue you and also show you how to actually do this
i just told you i'm a vampire and you're surprisingly okay with this. in fact you're turned out and do you seriously want me to suck your blood while i fuck you? what the fuck is wrong with u?!?!
you just helped me rob a bank and that was so hot, we should make out in the getaway car once the police stops chasing us.
turns out you're my soulmate but you're kind of an asshole and i want to have a serious talk with the universe or the gods or whoever is in charge but then you actually do something nice and sweet for me and fuck, maybe you're not so bad after all. i guess i could spend forever with you or whatever 🙄
i was thinking about how in love with you i am and i texted my best friend to scream about your eyes/arms/thighs/all of the above and WAIT IH FUCK I ACCIDENTALLY TEXTED YOU PLS DON'T READ THIS OH GOD
you just liked a three year old photo of mine on instagram and i didn’t even know you had an account
i thought you hated me but i just accidentally sent you a booty text and you accepted and i am seriously considering it
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embroidery, Codywan 👀 (if it sparks joy, no pressure. ❤️)
Love Stitched Over Your Heart
Rated: Teen for vague mentions of Cody being mistreated by the Empire and some accompanying angst
When Obi-Wan rises early and prepares to leave for the day with a vague explanation that there is something he must check on and states that he will not be back until after nightfall, Cody vows to use his time alone to help out around their shared hut. Motivating himself is easier with Obi-Wan away and unable to see how much he struggles with day to day activities. He is not there to witness how Cody’s hands shake as he loads the sonic dishwasher. He cannot offer to help each time Cody stops to lean against the hut on the way to check on the banthas. He will never know how many breaks Cody takes as he sweeps sand across the floor and back outside where it belongs.
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birdblacksocialclub · 7 months
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Goodbye Sex (if you're up to it) or Wet (because no one does wet the same way you do)!
Rainbow istg, this KILLED ME. And I love you for it. (And I hope you enjoy 🖤)
A little snippet - you can see the full comic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50097655/chapters/126510961
(it's nsfw <3)
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onboardsorasora · 6 months
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7. Made out while in costume at a Halloween Party (I feel like you’d have fun with this one 😈)
Hi Isabeellllll! You're right, I did have fun playing around with this. I have no clue if it is any good or makes sense though 🤣🤞🤞
cw: smut
Max glared across the room at Charles who was giggling merrily and hanging off of Carlos' arms. Lando was there too, very unhappily if his skull painted pout was anything to go by. 
He was supposed to be a skeleton he had said, he and Carlos were supposed to match. But when Carlos had walked in as the perfect Wario to Charles' Daisy– well let's say the pout was a step up from the murderous look from before.
It didn't matter because Max was still annoyed at Charles. They were having a joint birthday party this year in Texas and it was Charles' idea that they have a Halloween themed costume party. 
That wasn't the problem. The problem was that Charles wanted to be in charge of the costumes— and Max, like an idiot, let him. He truly only had himself to blame. Really he did. But he would still blame Charles. Because it made him feel better.
He flounced to the bar, ignoring the flutter of his skirts as he did so. His crown kept shifting atop his head but so far it hasn't fallen all the way off. He wished it were on a hat or something so he could keep track of it. You can't be Princess Peach without a crown, or so Charles had said when Max threatened to chuck it.
The bartender handed him his gin and tonic and Max took a grateful sip.
"Oh Maxy, Maxy, Maxy." The sultry growl made goosebumps rise on Max's glove covered arms. 
Max glanced behind him to see Daniel in his usual skinny jeans, band tee and flannel. He also had wolf claws and ears and fur sticking out in random places. But it was the look in his eyes that truly had Max shivering. It was… predatory.
"Hi Daniel. Do you want a drink?" Max asked, proud that his voice didn't shake or crack.
Daniel stepped forward and crowded into his space. He ran his nose along the slope of Max's neck behind his ear. Max felt some of the fake fur tickle his skin. 
"Daniel?" Max breathed out. He could hear the chatter of the party around them, as drivers got drunker and rowdier. They were at the bar at the back of the room, tucked out of the way, which is probably why Daniel felt brazen enough to do this.
"I'll have a beer, and a shot of tequila Maxy." He spoke lowly into Max's ear. Max nodded stiffly and called over the bartender who was making himself as invisible as possible. The drinks came quickly and Max handed the shot glass to Daniel who—
Daniel bent and grasped the shot glass with his lips, brushing teasingly along Max's fingers as he went. He broke eye contact only when he tipped his head backwards to swallow the liquor. Max numbly accepted the empty glass again and handed over the full bottle of beer. He swallowed the lump in his throat and licked his lips. 
Max wondered what Daniel was up to, they were– they hadn't– in a while. Not since before Zandvoort when Daniel got injured. But he'd been back on the grid since Qatar but they hadn't— Daniel was busier now than he was before the summer break. That's what Max told himself, why they hadn't met up. Why Daniel hadn't invited him over.
"What are you supposed to be?" Max found himself asking. He sipped some of his forgotten drink, his throat was parched.
Daniel smiled wolfishly, it was the only way to explain it. "Me, Pierre and Hulk are a big bad wolf pack."
Max looked around the hairy man to glimpse other equally hairy men in the room. "Clever."
"You look good enough to eat." Daniel's voice dipped again and Max felt a blush bloom as he watched Daniel look him up and down pointedly. Max felt his spine stiffen a little, as ridiculous as the outfit was, he still thought he looked good when he put it on. The pink suited him and the cut of the top showed off his shoulders and chest. Clearly Daniel liked it as well, an added bonus.
Daniel grabbed Max's hand and pulled him out of the room.  They found an empty office and Daniel wasted no time in pressing Max up against the wall and pressed their lips together in a filthy kiss. Daniel pressed his palm into Max's chest, cupping a tit under the sweetheart neckline.
"But Daniel…what big teeth you have." Max's breath hitched as Daniel mouthed at his exposed neck. He moaned and tilted his head backwards ignoring the ting of his crown hitting the floor.
"All the better to crawl under that dress and eat you whole… my dear." Daniel braced his knee between Max's thighs and swallowed his whimper. He licked into Max's mouth and groaned.
"Daniel— please."
Daniel slid to his knees and draped the fabric over his head to envelope himself in Max's scent. Daniel grinned, running his hands up naked legs, and squeezing his thick thigh. He saw Max's knees buckle and pressed his nose against his brief covered erection to help steady him.
Max whined above him and Daniel mouthed at his cock and balls. He only teased for a little longer before dragging Max's briefs down and enveloped his cock with his hot mouth. Pressing his nose into Max's pubes and inhaling deeply then exhaling in a drawn out hum. 
Max made a strangled moan above him and Daniel got to work, sucking greedily at Max's weeping dick groaning at the taste of his pre come on his tongue. it truly didn't take long, not with how worked up Max had been, and soon he was coming down Daniel's throat, cupping the crown of his head through the skirts.
Daniel cleaned Max up and stood, pulling the voluminous fabric from around him. Max watched him, dazed and smiling.
"Let me–"
"No Maxy" Daniel kissed him soundly, licking the freckle on his lip for good measure. "I'm going to come all over you after I rip this dress off of you. Yeah?" Daniel watched as the words registered with another wolfish grin.
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cutegirlmayra · 5 months
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Aye, Aye, Capt'n!!!!
Note: All the obstacles listed are basically what's in the above mentioned Anon requests XD I just didn't want to have to describe everything when they did it so well! <3
PROMPTS ARE ON SHUT DOWN, LOCKED UP TIGHT WITH A ZIPLOCK BAGGIE, DO NOT PUT MORE REQUESTS FOR WRITING INTO THE PRISON WHICH IS THE INBOX, Thank you~
However, do I like a 'Hi, I love this and that <3' every now and then. Peace and love, My Cuties~
Prompt:
War had ruined most hearts against the sunny light of hope… it was a dark time, hardly counts to call it the ‘worst’ since most refuse to acknowledge that time should even consider it. To most, it was a mistake.
Many looked to the basking Sonic with quiet anger, seeing him up on a ruined pillar that had fallen on some poor sap’s rooftop. They saw this as an open rebellion of sorts, as though their ‘hero’ was ‘too good’ to help with reconstruction efforts.
This soured their hearts, as they had all mourned his supposed passing… now they envied the time they thought him better than this.
Amy, sensing the hostility, requested a plot of land to not be cleared yet. With the trash, she constructed obstacles, feats of daring intique, and even thrills in hopes of getting Sonic and the rest of the remaining survivors a entertainment spectacle to lose themselves in.
Maybe… sparking love once more for their daring, dashing hero again.
However… Sonic was a fickle sort of heart. Always darting around, Amy couldn’t find the time to actually stick his feet to the ground long enough to engage him in these ‘sports’ of sorts.
Not giving up, though exhausted, she asked for more time from Knuckles and Tails happily took her spot to cover for her.
She was determined to make Sonic care… there was no doubt in her mind that he did, but no one saw the actions a hero did when alone… and no one was watching.
‘How do I make them understand him?’ She thought to herself, getting a bungie chord secured and ready, locking it in place. “How…” She arched her eyes, in worry. “How do I show them who he truly is?”
At night, dead in its darkness, Sonic traveled hundreds of miles… searching the ground with due diligence, he would race back with seeds of every different kind of plant life he could find–down to the smallest grain of mustard seed.
He would run and scatter from his hands the seeds into the wake of his wind, and thereby, he was healing the earth… digging out channels of land to make small canals for water to be brought to the new seedlings, and he did this all without a single eye upon him… except, when Amy tracked his location one night, that is.
She took out her tracker and followed in his footsteps, covering her mouth when her eyes were alight with green… and all sorts of beautiful colors from the freshly watered plants springing up again.
It was so far from the city… of course no one would interfere with it.
But Amy clenched her heart, she knew the people would still think Sonic a decadent, his credence simply being that he never helped the living civilians and rebellion people whom he led… caring more for ridiculous plants than their own wellbeing.
But Amy knew in her heart that this was important work, too… No matter how many homes are rebuilt, if the earth was damaged, so would their futures be…
“I have to make them see.” She hit the large, steel spike into the ground adamantly, sweat forming on her forehead as she wiped it off, ‘He’s so kind.’ she teared up, gritting her teeth, ‘How dare they say he doesn’t care! If they saw the beauty of that place… of the wide and green miles upon miles he’s worked so hard to restore… they’d see he is on their side… just… in a different way!’
She hammered and hammered… growing more upset, ‘Sonic..’ Her heart cried out and she fell to her knees, “How do I make them understand..?”, ‘How do I get them to see your heart… without actually showing them your private passion project?’
She wiped her eyes with her arm… before hearing a familiar spinning sound, like a pinball spin-up.
“H-huh?” She turned to see Sonic blazing through her track, “Oh!” She was elated to see him… but then…
“Wait!” She rose straight up, “No, no, no!!!” She raced forward, wanting to stop him! ‘If he completes the obstacle course and thrill rides… No one will see it and laugh with us at his accomplishment!’, “Sonic!!!”
She raced after him with her hands outstretched along the track, like a true test of courage and strength, as Sonic was literally destroying the track as it wasn’t done yet while completing it.
He was having a ball!
Amy quickly had to run to get on the track, unable to save it, she just tried to keep up and dodge the crumbling setup built from the ruins of the area. “Soooniicc!!!” She tried to balance along a beam as he swung from rail to rail, smirking the whole way as he was enjoying the strange setup, not looking back, always moving forward…
‘Why isn’t he looking back?’ She saw the railing swing had snapped on one side, and jumped to the bars to climb up the rope and move along that way.
Sonic only halted at the bungie chord, putting a finger to his chin.
“This is meant to be for all to see! To do it with me! As a game!” Amy cried out, but Sonic tied the rope around him… She had to hurry before he-!”
“Waaaiiittt!!!” Amy grabbed his waist, as Sonic smiled and took hold of her, jumping. “AHHHH!!!!”
Sonic held her the rest of the way through, leaping over large rubber balls, spin-dashing through punching bags, and narrowly avoiding the water traps too.
Scaling a climbing slope, he threw Amy up top and then made it the rest of the way no problem.
He hit a button and laughed, “I did it!” He put his hands straight out, “Yes!” as the whole of the entire area crumbled to pieces, and smashed over other parts of the track to completely fail and fall, slashing big portions of the setup to rumble once more…
He put his hands on his hips, “Huh, wonder why Eggman randomly put this track out in the middle of no where, huh, Amy?” He looked down at her, “... Amy?”
She was on all fours, shaking…
“... Amy, are you okay-?” He went to reach for her hand, bending down but she turned her head away, silently looking as though growling at him in her head. 
Her eyes were covered in shadows… “Why don’t you listen?”
His outstretched hand paused.
“This isn’t a game… Well, it was- but it was meant to be adored by millions of suffering fans who needed to see you do it!” She gripped the steel upon rusty steel flooring of the top of the tower. “You just… you don’t stop and think, you just… you just do it!” She cried, “Sonic The Hedgehog… Do you care about anyone’s hard work besides your own!?” She looked up at him and it cut air off between the two of them.
He stepped back, his arms out to the side of himself now.
Amy’s eyes were blurred by her emotions, her tears like blobs of weighted mass, she couldn’t wipe them from her eyes as more just kept coming… like a floodgate had been opened.
“I don’t get it… I’m the one that doesn’t understand you.” She lowered her head, “I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have said all of that…” She cried into her hands, “I worked so hard… so people could see a different side of you… But… this is all they see.” She gestured to the ruined obstacle course and thrilling feats she had been working on. “I… I don’t want to give up on you… or the people… or myself.” She lowered her hands to her lap, now sitting on her knees.
“Sonic…” She looked up at him, his face still distorted by her tears. “Why do you do your works in the dark?”
Realizing in that sentence what she was finally talking about, his shoulders relaxed and he took a deep breath.
“I’m not offended, Amy…” He put a hand behind his head, scratching it a bit to loose some of the awkward tension that had arisen. To him, this had come out of left field, literally no where, and he was expected to catch a baseball he didn’t even know was pitched. “Just taken aback, is all.”
“...” Amy said nothing, her head lowering down, as though distraught that that was his first reply.
He looked worried, and smiled gently as he looked over the track. “... I’ve seen you working on this, Amy.” He admitted, as her head came back up, and she got herself straightly up right away onto her feet.
“Then why did you destroy it!? Why’d you say it was Eggman’s doing!?” She shook her fists, “Why did you-…” Her voice broke a bit, “I always thought I had to entertain you, Sonic… that I couldn’t keep up, so I might as well keep you around by making a good effort on my end… but even then… I’m tried, Sonic.” She closed her eyes, as Sonic twitched and put his fingers to his heart, looking down as though feeling literal pain there.
“That sank pretty low.” He admitted, his tone sounding more heartbroken then ever. He couldn’t hide that.
“You’ve done… nothing for others to witness.” She rubbed her eyes, “I can’t keep trying to make them see the real you, Sonic… or even love you, anymore.”
He smiled and turned to her, “I never asked to be ‘entertained’, Amy… No friend should have to feel like they’re catering to one or the other.”
Amy’s head shot up at that.
“If you’re tired, it’s because you’ve been trying to grab at something that just isn’t there. No one can control another’s emotions… you aren’t responsible for how I act, or how other people feel, Amy…”
Amy got wobbly, so Sonic held out a hand, catching her. “... It’s the moments people hold personal… that make them heroes, Amy.” He lowered his head, “I never asked to be a hero… I just became one… because I couldn’t hide myself anymore.” He smiled, “Good deeds or not, I live by my own creed… I don’t need cheers or approval from others… I do what I want to do, and it just so happens that saving the world, protecting my friends and others,... those are things I enjoy doing.” He helped her back to her feet, her hands gripping his arms as though never wanting to be let go of them.
“But… why can’t you… be celebrated openly, Sonic?” She shook her head, “I don’t want to hear people speaking ill of you…”
“You’re burnt out, Amy… worrying about how other people view me.” He rubbed the top of her head, affectionately. “Eggman made this mess… but you made another, putting your time into something that wasn’t your problem to deal with in the first place.” He lightly pulled her head to his chest, dropping his own head to hers. “Amy… Whether people like what I do or not, I would hope in my heart… that you’d at least choose to accept it, accept me… and for what I am, I accept all of you… even the parts that worry about me.” He smirked and moved her out of his embrace. “Life’s no fun if you’re always waiting for someone to witness you doing it.” He gave her a wink and a thumbs up, “You miss too many opportunities that way.”
She couldn’t help but feel there was some truth in that, “... The best things…” She sniffled, rubbing the back of her nose against her gloved hand, looking at it as though disgusted, but having no alternative. “Are what’s unseen…”
Sonic nodded, “My merit isn’t credited by those that can view it… it’s what I know I did, Amy. So have faith that people will warm up to us all again, you’ll see.” He grinned, leaning towards her, “Keep a smile on that pretty face of yours, and quit playing in the trash, alright?” He rubbed her cheeks, getting some dust off of them.
She giggled, “Sonic… you’re the best and the worst at this!” She pushed him and he stumbled, wobbling off the edge of the tower as Amy placed her hands on her cheeks and swayed repeatedly back and forth, “Ohh~ You sweet talker, you~”
She blinked her eyes… “Sonic?”
She looked over to see he was gripping the edge of the tower.
Looking over, she saw him with chibi tears spraying out of his eyes, “HELLLP MEEE!!!” He cried out, “AMMYY!!!”
She immediately gasped and reached down, “Oh, OHH!! Sonnniccc!!! I’m so sorry!”
“Wah-hah-ha, why’d you make it so tall!?” He wiggled his feet out as she hoisted him up, looking down and getting freaked out.
When she got him up, he laid across her and starting laughing.
She blinked her eyes again but he just rolled off of her, “That sure was fun! I’m glad I got to be here with you… Amy.” He smiled and put a hand on his stomach, “What should we do next, huh?”
She smiled, “First… you’re gonna do all my work I left behind.” She narrowed her eyes, “You’re gonna take responsibility for your actions… and you’re going to at least clear up the misunderstandings.”
He looked as though she didn’t get what he was saying, but sighed, “Fine. If it makes you happy… Amy.” He closed his eyes and put his hands behind his back, “But first…” He tilted his nose up, “Can you smell that?”
She tried to, “Smoke? Oil?” She guessed, but he kept shaking his head lightly.
“Nah… keep trying.” He smiled gently, “Emmm~”
She tried again… reaching her nose out further, “Ah..! Your flowers!” She looked to the area far off, seeing his passionate project coming to life now that the thick smog parted to show the whole area… and people picking flowers, playing in the clean water, and enjoying life out there.
“Ah… They already knew.” Her eyes twitched at the beautiful sight, “From way up here…”
“... You saw a problem that you thought was there.” Sonic opened his eyes lightly, “No one hated me, Amy…” He looked to her, “... You were projecting your own thoughts and feelings onto others… You thought you were the only one… but really,” He took on a serious tone.
“I think you felt I wasn’t giving you enough time, Amy… for all you do for me, I think you felt jipped.”
She broke down and sobbed profusely, as Sonic slowly got up and put an arm around her again, letting her cry…
She was the one thinking those horrible things… this whole time…
“Eggman really made a mess of things.” He gently rested his head over Amy’s shoulder, “Didn’t he, Amy?”
With an absolute heart full of grace and sorrow, thankful for Sonic’s understanding, she held her hand to his back and pulled him closer, “Yes…” She admitted, feeling the weight finally set in. “I tried to be so strong when he took you away from us… I never once believed you were gone…”
“... That must have been a heavy burden… keeping everyone’s faith and hope alive… in me, and in the war efforts,... Amy.” Sonic closed his eyes, letting her let it out.
“I just… I wanted to see you.” She smushed her eyes into his shoulder. “I wanted you to want to see me…”
“...” This time, Sonic remained silent.
“... I love you, Sonic.” She mumbled through her tears.
“... I know.” Sonic took his other hand and adjusted his legs to be able to sit and hold her with both his arms now around her. “I missed you too, Amy…”
They both then said, as though one healing thought spoken aloud from their souls…
“I missed you so much.”
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elsicaria · 8 months
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Wait...did you answer an ask? I turned on your notif so when i clicked on it it didnt appear somehow? Is it a bug on me 💀
I’ve been answering a lot of asks hang on
cockwarm:NSFW
Subby Valeria: NSFW
Rich man, Val saves day: NSFW
Cooking for Val: SFW
"kicking my feet" gen
"thank for masterlist" gen
That's all i have in the last 12 hours
and... your notifs are on 🥹 for me? 👉🏻👈🏻
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sunwarmed-ash · 8 months
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Roy/Jamie fic idea: just Roy being secretly obsessed with Jamie’s nipples ever since he flashed them at Roy at the gala in S1. One day in S3 or beyond, Jamie’s being a little shit and Roy finally snaps, taking Jamie to bed and declaring that he’s gonna undo Jamie just by doing all manner of things to those nipples. Jamie couldn’t be happier.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! i love all the royjamie prompts I got, so I combined all three into one response!
Prompts:
Coach kink-Jamie calls Roy coach at practice to rial him up, a sequel to 4 AM
Jamie gets his nipples pierced. Roy goes insane
Nipple obsession/nipple worship
Hope you enjoy it!! I certainly had fun writing it!!
Insatiable Tartt
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Ships: Roy x Jamie Fandom: Ted Lasso Rating: Explicit Tags: Nipple piercing, nipple worship, public sex kinda, bottom Jamie, Roy/Jamie's ever developing relationship, The Infamous Boot Room, hand jobs, fic under the cut and on ao3, Jamie has a praise kink, and a coach kink, PWP
‘Coach this,’ ‘Coach that,’ ‘Yes Coach,’ ‘please coach’
Coach. Coach. Coach.
In the almost 20 years Roy has been in sports he has never given the word a sexy, second thought. But then Jamie fucking Tartt, his previous business and romantic archrival-turned friends-with-benefits had to go and sob the damn title while he was posted up on Roy’s cock. Begged him, his coach, to make him cum, again and again. And now, after one night together, it’s had an almost instant, pavlovian response with his dick. 
Goddamn you Jamie Fucking Tartt.
-A month later-
They've only hooked up two other times since the first time. The next time was in Amsterdam, after the little shit spent the entire evening teaching him how to ride a bike to honor his grandads memory and then took him to see a windmill because Roy had never seen one before, and then  to add cherries to an already perfect night, Jamie leaned over and kissed him, taking his breath away with a simple press of lips that he hasn't felt since Keeley. 
Jamie didn't kiss him for long, he actually misinterpreted Roy’s freezing as denial and started to retreat almost instantly. Roy was quick to remedy that. His hand was catching the back of Jamie’s head and pulling his lips right back down against Roy’s own, where they belonged. 
Jamie and he then hauled ass back to the hostel the team was staying at and Roy fucked Jamie into the mattress. At least until Roy’s knee started acting up. But then Jamie took over, riding Roy hard into the bed for another good half hour.  
-
The third time was after Roy’s ‘misguided though comical’ attempt at ‘teammate awareness’ with the whole dick tying thing. It wasn't all bad. Jamie had admitted that it actually turned him on. After he blamed Roy for the new pain kink he developed around his dick because of it. 
That night, Roy had spent an hour tying Jamie up with the remaining red rope, binding his legs and arms away from his front so Roy had unlimited access to his body. He even tied up his cock, like a nice little present for Roy to admire and praise. Before slapping it hard with his hand while Jamie sobbed and pled for more. 
“Like that, do you slut?”
“Yes Coach…” Jamie pants without a fuss. 
-
After that last time, Roy thought he had finally gotten a one-up on the man. But evidently, he had underestimated the little shit, again. Because when Roy walked into the locker room after practice and the team was getting changed, his eyes caught a shining glint off something and someone he did not expect. 
And he wasn't the only one who noticed. 
“Oi boyo, when’d you get those?” Colin asked Jamie, referring to the matching piercing bars through the man’s nipples that were currently making Roy’s mouth fucking water. 
Jamie smirked and tossed his shirt over his shoulder instead of putting it on, letting Colin get a nice long look. 
“Long time ago mate,” Jamie shrugged. “16? 17 maybe?” Roy hates that that fact means he could have had those bars in his mouth already but Jamie specially chose not to disclose having them until today. 
“Only wear em when I’m tryin’ get lucky, ya know.” 
Roy looks at Jamie just in time to realize he was pointing that intention directly at him and his burning arousal and fear of public displays of affections has him shouting a familiar threat in the full locker room. 
“TARTT, BOOT ROOM! NOW!”
-
“I didn’t even do nothing wrong this time!” Jamie whines the second the boot room door closes and Roy’s mouth is on his to silence the bitchy noise. 
“Take off your shirt,” He says when he breaks apart and Jamie smiles, all the way up to his ears.
“Oh, oh, yeah, okay,” and then his shirt’s off and Roy’s hands replace it, running over every inch of skin he can reach before settling on what he really wanted to see. The silver and blue barbells through each of Jamie’s dusky brown nipples. 
“It's a good thing these aren't new,” Roy says, and before Jamie can ask why, Roy’s mouth is latching over one, biting into the pec hard before soothing the bite with a suck and several pointed licks around Jamie’s nipple. 
Jamie’s painful shout morphed into a pleased whine with the attention to the piercing with his tongue and Roy was happy this was making Jamie as crazy as its making Roy. He's admittadbily been obsessed with Jamie’s nipples since that little tart decided he was too good for a shirt at the charity auction. 
“Roy, please,” Jamie whines, breaking Roy out of his thoughts and back to the current moment. 
“No,” Roy growls against Jamie’s skin, and it makes Jamie’s cock twitch against their bodies. “Address me right if you want something,” 
“Coach,” Jamie whimpers, quickly entering the matter phase of melted goo in Roy’s specially crafted hands.
“There's a good boy,” Roy praises, and Jamie melts even farther with a pitiful whine. “Shouldn’t surprise me you have these pierced. Actually a little cross you didn't tell me sooner.”
Jamie’s eyes open and bore into Roy’s. There’s too much there to attempt to process it all.  
“Wanted to surprise you.”
“Suprise me? Why?”
Jamie flushed pink, now avoiding his eyes. 
“Don't know... Thought maybe you'd like them. Do you?”
Roy raised his eyebrow before grabbing Jamie's hand and holding it against his own cock. 
“Does this answer your question?”
Jamie hums and his eyes flutter and he nods. 
“Fuck me?”
Roy shakes his head. 
“Can’t here Sweetheart, as much as I want to. But I can keep this up, probably make you come apart without even touching your cock. Would you like that?”
Jamie’s whines don’t contain actual words. He just nods and reaches out for Roy, pulling him close so Roy can bite and lick across his chest any way he wants to.  
Roy does. He loves the way the metal feels against his tongue, how much it makes Jamie gasp and squirm when he just barely scrapes his teeth across the hardened flesh. Loves how loud he cries when Roy bites him so hard it’ll leave marks tomorrow. 
Jamie’s cries get pitchier when he sucks around Jamie’s nipple, licking the piercing balls on either side with his tongue, Jamie's hips thrust forward, bumping against Roy’s thigh and pulling another moan from the younger player's lips. 
“Coach, please,” Jamie begs and Roy moves up from the hickied and bruised chest to Jamie’s lips, biting roughly into his lower lip. 
Jamie whines and Roy chuckles, soothing his cries with another deep kiss.
“What do you want Jamie?”
“Make me cum, please, I’m close.”
“That all?”
“No,” Jamie huffed. 
Roy’s playful tug on Jamie’s piercing with his teeth had the younger man humping against Roy’s thigh now. 
“What else then?”
“Want you to fuck me, at home. You can tie me up again if you want.”
“You really liked that huh?”
“Your fault, you put the image in me head.”
“Something tells me you have the capacity to think devious thoughts up all on your own,” Roy laughed before slipping his hand down the front of Jamie’s track pants and gripping his hard cock tight. 
Jamie’s retort died on his tongue and his hand shot out for Roy, pulling his head forward and mouth back onto his chest. 
“Fuck, touch me, please,” Jamie pants and Roy goes to work. Jamie wasn’t kidding, he was getting close. Most of Roy’s hand was now slick with Jamie’s precum. 
The younger seemed to really like when he bit hickies into his chest Roy continued his pointed assault, squeezing the head of Jamie’s cock the next time his pumping hand reached it. 
“Fuck-” Jamie cries and it’s all over. His thighs tremble below Roy’s hand as his orgasm pulses through him. Roy’s hand gets slicker but he doesn't stop pumping. Not until Jamie’s pretty bite swollen lips beg him to. 
Roy pulls his hand out of Jamie’s pants and uses his clean hand to pull the man forward, kissing him back down after an intense, public, orgasm. 
Jamie hums under the kiss, slumping onto Roy’s chest and giving him all of Jamie’s body weight to support while he came back down to Earth. 
“Are you still hard?” Jamie asks after a couple of minutes, and Roy chuckles at the ridiculous question. 
“Course I am.”
“Still wanna tie me up? We can go, like right now. If you wanna.”
Roy chuckled before kissing Jamie again. 
“Insatiable tart.”
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Text
Category: Sickfic
Sickie: Hoseok
Caretakers: Any
Prompt: Cuddling a sick Jimin seemed like it would be fine—his immune system was strong, after all. (Of course Hoseok catches Jimin’s illness)
Submitted by: Anonymous
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trudemaethien · 6 months
Note
longshot/sgt fox + turn
immediate thoughts: coruscant rush hour traffic and watchman bent bullet trajectories, kennedy conundrum, parkour
aaaaand i just realized this said SGT fox dammit dammit dammit OK u get a bonus (under the cut), while I go write the right Fox smdh@myself
“I know 501st is our companion battalion and all, and I do want to see those yahoos again, I do, but at the cost of having to hot-bunk? Sheesh, haven’t had to trade off a bed with a brother in a hot minute.”
“Oh, quit your bitching, Longshot, because if the logs officer hears you he might assign you to share with someone who farts uncontrollably, or wets the bed or something,” Trapper teased loudly, grinning. “Oh look, it’s your turn. Wish ya luck!” With that he gave Longshot a shove up to the billeting window.
The logs officer, who had a side-shave and a little neutral symbol tattooed on their face peeping out from the fall of curls across their other cheek, glanced up at him and passed a smaller-than-usual stack of bedding out of the window. “Your five-oh-first partner has the rest and is already in residence,” they intoned with the air of having already said it a hundred times and planning on scores more. “3-76 in ba—hang on—“
But Longshot had already snatched up the auto-printed tag of flimsi. “3-76 in bay 22, what’s the matter with it?” he inquired with an edge of suspicion.
The logs officer sat on their hands and looked like they’d been dared to shoot the extremely salty, sour undiluted electrolytes from a ration packet. “Nothing,” they said tersely, impatiently.
“Uncontrollable farting? Pees the bed?” Longshot pressed, and the logs guy bit back a smile in spite of themself. They’d definitely heard Trapper giving him a hard time.
“So…?”
“Nothing,” they repeated. “Just, ah, recognized my own bunk number—I promise I’m not some yahoo who makes a mess, don’t worry. You’re not weird or gross or anything either, are you?”
“Depends,” said Longshot flirtatiously, leaning on the window’s pass-through ledge, “on just what weird kind of mess you mean.” He winked reassuringly.
Behind him Trapper groaned.
“Hm,” the trooper said, noncommittal.
“You got a name, new bunkmate?”
“What’ll it take for you to turn that tag back over to me?” they countered.
“Your name,” Longshot insisted, pushing his luck.
They stared at him for a moment, considering. “You’re holding up the line,” they finally said, prim as anything. “I’ll find you later, I’m sure. Move along.”
Smirking, Longshot stepped off. “Well, you know where I sleep.”
Hot-Bunk, Bunkmate 🔒 https://archiveofourown.org/works/51632134
Bonus (cdr fox):
“I said you could fill out your ranks with shinies, Two-Four, not kriffing Jedi, you absolute cheat!
“I did not! And kark off with that number bullshit, Tenten. In front of my men?”
“What the hell do you call this, then?” Fox gestured to the impossible marked trajectory, motions abrupt and infuriated. “There is no way in the realm of un-force-assisted physics that a trooper could pull off a longshot like that.”
“Oh, I like that,” said an awed voice behind Fox and he whirled to see the starry-eyed shiny listening in—not that he was being particularly circumspect in his tirade. “Can that be my name, Commander? Longshot?”
“No,” said Fox direly in the same breath as Cody overruled him.
His voice was fond and approving and full of shit. “Of course it can, it’s an excellent name, ‘37,” Cody said without looking at Fox.
The newly named Longshot did, however. “Thank you, sir, it really is—a good name and a high compliment.”
“It was not a compliment,” Fox grumbled. “You special in the head?”
“No, sir, no, of course not, forgive me” the kid said, still mostly unsubdued but at least trying to act respectful.
“I’ll —maybe— consider forgiveness, if you can explain to me in detail how the kriff you got it to turn like that?!”
“Certainly,” Longshot said, cheeky again, “over a cuppa caf?” No ‘sir’ now, was this punk flirting?
The absolute audacity.
Not many people knew what an unfortunate blusher Fox was and the tally had just gone up. Fox decidedly didn’t look at Cody who was definitely smirking like a vat-reject.
“Make it something stronger,” Fox said, grappling his dignity back under control, “and you’ll be the one paying, Longshot.”
If he’d gotten one illogical shot to hit an improbable target, why not let him go for another?
Bullet Bending 🔒 https://archiveofourown.org/works/51632269
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augment-techs · 13 days
Text
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afewproblems · 1 year
Note
If prompts are still open, would you consider doing something where Eddie sees Steve working at Scoops, in uniform, and has a whole ass Crisis about it? The lip gloss (he HAS to be wearing lip gloss, right?), the sparkly doe eyes, the little shorts, that booty...
Thank you for the very sweet Steddie prompt!!  I hope you enjoy ❤️
Eddie wasn't sure what he had done to deserve this. 
Hawkins finally opens a shitty new mall to loiter in, deal behind, and peruse music at. 
An air-conditioned building within driving distance for Eddie and Gareth, the only two in their band who had gotten their license --what Jeff was waiting for was anyone's guess, and there was only one rent-a-cop that slept in his office every day from noon to four.
It should have been paradise! Eddie was owed paradise God Dammit.
Eddie groans and drops his head to the sticky Starcourt table just inches from his empty paper bowl, the little red ice-cream spoon bounces and clatters to the floor from the sudden force.
Gareth snorts and continues eating from his own nearly empty bowl, he holds the bowl aloft and angles his elbows so they rest against the table to prop them up. 
"You got it bad dude," Gareth says as he scrapes the last melted drops of rocky road from the bottom. He puts the bowl into Eddie's empty one and pushes it towards Jeff who eyes the garbage with a glint in his green eyes. 
"Shut up," Eddie grumbles, his voice muffled against the plastic veneer on the food court table. 
"I mean, I don't know why you don't just go up and talk to him," Gareth sighs as his eyes follow Jeffs quiet hands that snatch the empty ice cream bowls from the table, "that's like the fifth ice cream you've bought today man, and I'm not bumming you anymore smokes 'cuz you can't afford a new pack after this". 
Gareth's eyes dart between Eddie's prone form and Jeff, who holds up a single finger against his lips and winks.
"You're a terrible friend," Eddie says as he brings his head down again, a little more roughly this time. 
That's when Eddie registers a figure leaning over him and before Eddie can say anything, the sticky, empty paper bowls have been placed gently upside-down atop his wild mop of curls like a paper crown.
"Oh, oh scratch that," Eddie snarls as he whips the garbage from his head, the bowls clatter against the table as he stands, "You're both assholes!"
Jeff snickers loudly as Gareth tries to school his features, failing miserably. 
"Hey, I'm just trying to make sure you two match man, crowns for a King my liege," Jeff laughs and Gareth loses it, covering his face with both hands. 
"Now you have another reason to go up there dude, for free this time!" Gareth says with a warbling voice, he wipes his eyes as he takes a deep steadying breath, "napkins!"
"Terrible, terrible fucking friend, dude," Eddie says as he stalks away from the table towards the counter of Scoops Ahoy and the bane of his existence. 
"Ahoy, welcome to Scoops," a deep voice says from behind the counter, "can I interest you in a free sample of our new flav- oh? Oh hey man, you're back?"
Eddie closes his eyes and takes a three second breath in through his nose and releases it out his mouth. He can do this. 
He opens his eyes. 
Fuck.
Steve Harrington is staring at him. 
His big brown eyes dart over Eddie's face, his expression confused and slightly concerned. Steve's hair curls in gentle waves over his forehead and ears, it looks effortlessly tousled as though someone ran their fingers through it the night before --and what a thought that is.
The constellation of moles and freckles dusting his face, stand out in the bright fluorescent lighting that hums its artificial tune in the background. 
Steve tilts his head slightly and Eddie realizes that the question Steve asked him has gone unanswered now for at least seven seconds. 
"Uh, yeah, hey man, uh can I just grab a few napkins?" Eddie says, it comes out casual despite the racing of his heart, "had a little incident back at the table". 
Steve seems to consider the response for a moment before he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, a small biting grin blooms over his face.
Double fuck.
"Uh, yeah, with the bowls right?" Steve chuckles lowly as he reaches behind him for a stack of napkins, "nice friends hey?"
Eddie stiffens as his stomach drops into his shoes, "You uh, you saw that?" 
Steve snorts, "I have eyes and ears don't I?"
Eddie's vision seems to narrow to a single point as his world tilts, no no no no.
"...say that last part again?" Eddie manages to say without sounding completely strangled by the sudden lump in his throat. 
A soft pink blush works its way over Steve's ears and onto his cheeks, he bites his lip again and shrugs, "you guys are not sitting that far dude, I don't know if you know this but uh, sound travels". 
Eddie nods, but the world feels like it's underwater now, or like he'll be sick at any moment, he swallows roughly and makes to turn on his heel and flee the mall, flee the country. 
Wayne would understand, he needs to get out, Canada could use a new metal guitarist and high school drop out right? 
"Wait!" Steve says as he turns to the far back counter and rummages around for a second. If Eddie stands, just slightly, on his tiptoes, he can see the swell of Steve's ass in those illegal blue shorts. 
Triple Fuck.
When Steve finally turns back around he's holding a single napkin out to Eddie. He's fully blushing now, bright red ears seem to bleed into pink cheeks and down his neck, Eddie wonders exactly how far he could get that blush to really go.
"You wanted a napkin, right?" Steve says softly, he gestures firmly with his hand for Eddie to take the paper.
Eddie steps forward, closer than he's ever really allowed himself to get to Steve until now, from here he can see the flecks of gold and green in those big eyes and the light sheen on those pink lips and Eddie can't help but wonder what they taste like.
He wants to slap himself.
"Right, yeah man, thanks," Eddie mumbles as he attempts to avoid Steve's insistent gaze, he grabs the napkin and startles when he feels a warm hand on his arm.
"I um, I get off at 6," Steve nearly whispers as he leans in conspiratorially with a small smile, he lets go of Eddie's arm but lingers in his space.
It's Eddie's turn to feel and look confused, his face scrunches around the eyes but he finally looks down at the single, folded napkin in his sweaty hands.
He opens it.
It's a phone number. 
And Steve's name has been scrawled in black ink over the paper. 
Eddie looks from the paper in his hands and back to Steve, his mouth drops open into a little 'O'.
"So, if you uh, have any personal ice cream emergencies, or whatever, you can uh, give me a call maybe?" Steve says with a grin, he leans back away from Eddie once more and the spell is broken. 
Eddie nods dumbly and holds up the napkin, gesturing to it with his other free hand, with a thumbs up. He folds it delicately, and places it into his inside vest pocket before patting the space to ensure it's secure. 
Steve shakes his head with a smile and waves as Eddie walks backwards for a step before fleeing back to the safety of the table. 
"What the fuck just happened…" Eddie manages as he slowly slides back into the plastic seat beside Gareth, "I think I blacked out". 
Gareth is grinning, it's his classic shit-eater and he's looking at Jeff like a cat that's caught the canary, "That my friend, is five bucks, pay up Jeff!" 
Jeff grumbles as he reaches for his wallet and Eddie can't fight a warm wave of giddiness that threatens to overtake him.  "Absolutely terrible friends," he mutters fondly.
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loserdiaz · 1 year
Note
ficlet? 👀 for the office chair one or the liked an old insta post one 👀❤️
we work in the same office and you have a goddamn squeaky chair and you wONT FUCKING STOP SQUEAKING IT BECAUSE YOU KNOW IT ANNOYS ME
this is sort of a different first time meeting where they both work ar dispatch &lt;3
Eddie will admit that working as a 9-1-1 operator can be stressful. You only have your voice to save someone's life and on most occasions your mind has to focus on a million little things at the same time you calm someone down from the edge and call backup to arrive at the scene. 
It can be overwhelming and a lot to deal with. But he figured, well he's an ex-army medic and he'd worked on literal warzones with bullets coming at him. 
How hard could this be? 
As it turns out, he never saw Evan Buckley coming.
The man is gorgeous, sure, and he's funny and charming and he knows how to get the good kind of coffee around here and not whatever shit show they have in the break-room. 
And Eddie might have had a tiny crush when he first started working there. Just a little bit.
But Buck is also annoying as hell. 
Being a 9-1-1 operator is stressful on itself— but even more when Evan Buckley sits on the desk next to yours. 
They're at a pretty safe distance that their calls don't overlap and they can hear the people on the other side of the line just fine without having to yell or ask the other one to shut up. 
But. 
Buck's chair squeaks. Like, really loud and obnoxious and the man has the habit of moving around a lot. 
Eddie is half sure he's doing it on purpose at this point. 
Buck doesn't squeak the chair while on calls or anything, but when they have a few moments of peace and quiet and Eddie is taking a deep breath to center himself— 
Squeak. 
"Buckley, I swear to God, if you squeak that chair one more time—" Eddie snaps, taking his headset off. 
Squeak. Squeak. 
Buck slides his chair with his foot until he's just a few centimeters away from Eddie's desk and throws him an amused, infuriatingly charming, smirk. "It's not my fault the chair squeaks, Eds." He squeaks it again and Eddie fixes him with a stare. 
"You could, you know, not do it on purpose." 
"Mhmm, I could." Buck tilts his head to the side and squints like he's genuinely considering that option, and grins at him— boyish and beautiful and Eddie hates his guts so much, jesus. "But then where's the fun in that?" 
Eddie purses his lips, making sure there's no incoming calls when he turns around to face Buck completely. 
"What do I have to do for you to stop squeaking that damn chair?" 
And at that, Buck straightens in his seat and lights up— brighter than the sun, brighter than any star in the sky that Eddie has ever seen. "Go on a date with me?" Buck asks, eyes suddenly devoid of any amusement or snugness and instead glinting with hope and uncertainty, a smidge of insecurity in Buck's usually cocky smile. "I mean, if you're really that annoyed I'll fix it anyway and I'll stop. You don't really have to go on a date with me if you don't really want to—"
"I do." Eddie cuts the man off before he can spiral further. He clears his throat and looks up at Buck with a shy, hopeful smile himself. "I'll go on a date with you." 
"Sweet!" Buck almost punches the air in a fit of enthusiasm and Eddie can't help but chuckle. "I, uh, should go back to work. Save lives and all that, but —"
"Let's have dinner after shift? I know a place nearby that makes the best enchiladas in L.A after my Abuela, of course." 
Buck looks like a kid on Christmas morning, smiling so wide and cheeks flushed. "It's a date." 
He takes his squeaky chair back to his desk and Eddie turns around, putting his headset back on and pressing the answer button on an upcoming call. "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" He says, and he puts his mind back to the task at hand. His heart is fluttering in his chest, though, and he can't help but look forward to the end of shift.
Maybe that stupid squeaky chair wasn't as bad after all. 
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saturnite0614 · 1 year
Note
Saw you looking for Soapghost prompts, as a lowkey soapgaz shipper and major soapghost shipper may I request gaz sadly watching soap and ghost falling for each other?
I love romance of any kind so I can get behind some good SoapGaz. SoapGhost is just my preferred. Your prompt is still murder tho 🥺 (and sorry for taking so long!)
A good teammate isn't bitter. He doesn't get jealous. The victories of his team are his victories. And yet they don't call jealousy the green-eyed monster for no reason.
Gaz wears his heart on his sleeve. Some considered it a flaw of his. If something or someone pissed him off, he let them know. He wasn't going to get trampled on. But unfortunately, he's also a professional, so when he first met John "Soap" MacTavish, he played nice.
The first hint of jealousy came at the way he and Price talked with each other. It was clear Soap was nervous about joining a new task force but it was also clear the two had a deep relationship that predated the captain's relationship with Gaz. He'd reeled that back and actually got to know Soap. The Scotsman was friendly and young, much younger than Gaz would have thought. Already a sergeant and hand picked by Price for a special task force. The jealously ticked away into admiration and excitement at seeing his skills at work in the field, although the chances ended up being rare.
Still, besides Price, Soap was the only other member of the 141 he ever saw and interacted with. It was nice to have someone his own rank he could complain and vent to over drinks. And the two would drink, quite sloppily. It often turned into a competition.
Like Gaz, Soap wore his heart on his sleeve, not yet fully accustomed to the detachment that befell all soldiers – Like it had with Lieutenant "Ghost" Riley. He'd met that man once. He seemed nice enough but the two had never been on a mission together. Soap was the closest thing he had to a friend since Alex. Or maybe more. 
Gaz couldn’t help the way his heart leaped into his eyes at the sight of Soap’s face flushing red as he breached the threshold from buzzed to pissed with a single drink. His blue eyes always sparkled, the effect strengthened by Gaz’s own drunken state and the lights of the bar. He had to dig his nails into his thigh to keep from kissing Soap right there. He couldn’t ruin the one reliable friendship he had. 
So he watched and waited, fighting occasionally with Soap by his side, but mainly spent time at various bases, trading stories and making jokes at Price’s expense behind the old man’s back. Two peas in a pod, as cheesy as that sounds. Ghost was barely a thought in his mind and he was content with that. If he wanted another friend, the lieutenant knew where to find him.
He’d come to find the longing for his squad mate as normal as breathing as well as the fear of losing him whenever he was away. The same worried longing settled on him as Soap, as well as a bunch of Marines, shipped out to Al Mazrah to meet with Ghost. Gaz would be with Price in Amsterdam. There was no guarantee when he would see the other sergeant again, but he held onto hope. The hope was bolstered everytime Price picked up a call from Laswell or Ghost or Soap.
Then the calls stopped coming. 
Then Gaz was hopping out of a helicopter with Price by his side, watching Soap scale a prison wall. For the first time, all of 141 was in one place. Soap was by his side, injured, but alive. Thank God, he was alive. After what Laswell had told them about Commander Graves and Shadow company, he couldn’t shake the gnawing tug in his gut that told him that this was a point of no return.
But even with Soap in front of him, he couldn’t get rid of it.
He hadn’t set foot in the actual city of Las Almas, only flown over it, but he knew he hated it. Because that’s where everything broke. That is where he lost Soap. To fucking Simon “Ghost” Riley of all people. It would have been easy to be angry, to be fucking pissed, if the lieutenant treated Soap like shit. If only he’d been a dick, closed off or he didn’t reciprocate Soap’s feelings.
But it was Ghost who’d first clued him in when he took off his mask.
Gaz hadn’t put much thought into the mask. He thought Ghost was just dramatic. Afterall, how the fuck fo you get “Ghost” as a call sign if you aren’t at least a little emo and extremely dramatic. He pulled the black balaclava off, never breaking eye contact with Soap. And Soap…well Soap tried to hide his interest. He struggled to keep his face neutral, his lips pressed in a thin line and his brow furrowed, but Gaz knew better. Soap’s heart wasn’t on his sleeve, it was on his damn chest and beating for Ghost. What had happened in those few days apart? Did Gaz even want to know?
And of course, silent and separate Ghost got paired up with Soap for their final mission against Shadow Company. Then he’d been on overwatch in Chicago, hanging back like Soap’s guardian angel and there to save his life and sweep him off his feet.
He saw a lot more of Ghost after that, almost always with Soap trailing behind him. He called him Johnny, a name that grew in frequency. Gaz, while alone, had tried out the name for himself, but it felt wrong. Deep down, he knew that his voice wouldn’t spin the same magic Ghost managed to imbue in it. And Soap, Soap called him Simon. Even Price didn’t call him that. 
Maybe he’d been reading into it. He read the mission report, signed by both Soap and Ghost. All it said was that the two kept in radio contact until they could escape Las Almas. But something had happened, something that would never make it into an official report. Gaz knew better.
He fucking knew better, and yet couldn’t get rid of that tug in his gut. He had to find Soap and at least throw his hat in the ring. A voice whispered in the back of his mind, you’re going to fail. 
He saved his life. Where were you?
Gaz hurries through the base, looking for Soap’s telltale mohawk in every room he passes. He’s not in the bunk or the clinic or the gym or any of the offices. 
Towards the end of his search, his steps begin to slow, responding to some invisible force. There’s no one around him. There’s no reason for him to stop. 
He sticks his head around the corner, looking into a darkened hallway. A single red EXIT sign glows, highlighting two figures, both he recognises well. He also recognizes that green feeling, the jealously.
Because it's Ghost holding onto Soap, carding his fingers through his hair. Soap looks up at him, lips moving with words Gaz can't hear, but knows he wants them. The jealousy burns in his gut and in his hands, itching to do exactly what Ghost is doing. It'd be better if he could walk away and spare himself the sight of Ghost leaning forward and capturing Soap's mouth with his. His mask is rolled up. Even in the red washed darkness, Gaz sees the flush that travels up Soap's neck. The same blush that colored his face whenever they drank or whenever a particularly pretty girl flirted with him. Ghost caused that with a single touch. 
Gaz slinks away, watching out for the sounds of his own footfalls.
He isn't one for tears or crying. The first place his mind goes is anger. At himself for waiting. For being cowardly. At Ghost for having the brazen confidence to love Soap. Even at Soap for leaving him for Ghost. 
He slips into the gym, full of people, but he doesn’t trust himself to be alone. If he were alone, he’d could give himself permission to fall apart. But he didn’t want to fall apart because that meant everything was real. If he fell apart, he had to acknowledge he’d let the moment slip by. But how could he have known? If he’d acted, approached Soap and told him what he felt, he could have broken what they had.
But what if he hadn’t? What if Soap also felt that way?
Gaz hides in the locker room for a few minutes before stepping back into the gym. In front of the others, he could pretend his mind wasn’t filled with turmoil. Other people are safe. 
But the people start to leave as the night continues on. With each person that leaves, Gaz feels his resolve ebb away. The sweat drips into his eyes and pours down his back, just like Ghost’s hand had slid down Soap’s back. His lips are red from dehydration, no doubt like Soap and Ghost’s lips after kissing for hours. Did they share a bed? Was that kiss the first?
He’s the last one standing after hours of lifting the same set of weights, burning his eyes into the ceiling. 
“How long have you been here? You smell heavy gingin’,” A familiar and cursed Scottish accent washes over him. It’s beautiful enough to push out the anger and embarrassment. Gaz sits up and against all odds, has a smile on his face.
“Like you smell better.”
Soap levels that damned crooked smile at him, running his hand through his mussed hair. His fingers come back coated in gun oil. Had he put it there himself, or did Ghost?
Soap crouches in front of him, “Need a spotter?”
“What?”
He points to the weight machine where Gaz currently sits in his own puddle of sweat. He doesn’t know Gaz has been here for hours. He probably thinks he’s just here for a late night session. 
Gaz nods, lying back down and ignoring the feeling of his back suction-cupping to the seat. Soap walks by, his leg brushing Gaz’s. It’s electrifying, making the hair on his arms stand on end. He watches as Soap double checks the weights, nodding with approval at the numbers he sees. “Ready when you are.”
Gaz begins lifting again, working his arms past their limit, just to further impress Soap. But his hands are sweaty. The brief break had given the sweat time to drip down his arms and coat his palms. Or maybe it is due to Soap’s presence. He’s so close. How had they worked together when just now, Soap’s very presence sent his entire nervous and cardiorespiratory system into overdrive? Gaz’s hand slips, tilting the weights dangerously to the side. 
But then Soap’s warm hand covers his, correcting his grip. He squeezes tight, not letting go until Gaz’s grip is sure again.
This is your moment, a part of him screams. Waiting got nobody anywhere.
He catches Soap’s gaze through his own eyelashes. His beauty is distorted by the sweat droplets on them. He sparkles, even under the shitting yellow fluorescents of the deserted gym.
Do it.
“You always have me.” He finds himself saying.
Soap cocks his head to the side, flinging greasy strands of his mohawk across his forhead. “I know I do.”
“Not like teammates. If Ghost-”
Soap chokes, his eyes going wide and his face burning red. He runs his hand over his mohawk again. “You saw that?”
“You two aren’t subtle,” Gaz grunts, trying to hide the dangerous shake that fights to seep into his voice. He barrels on, keeping the trembling at bay, “If Ghost hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.”
Soap laughs, “Appreciate it, Gaz.”
Gaz slams the weights down, sitting up fast enough to leave his vision far behind him. It catches up with a crash, but it doesn’t stop him from wheeling around to face the oblivious Scot. “I mean it.”
Soap leans forward, wrapping his calloused hands on the metal bar. He’s the closest he’s ever been to Gaz, breathing the same air as him.
“Garrick, what exactly do you mean?” His voice is low and serious as he works out Gaz’s words and tone in his mind.
Act. Don’t talk.
Act.
Gaz touches his cheek, ignoring the smell emanating off of him and the sweat he transfers onto Soap. He doesn’t flinch back, but his eyes flick to Gaz’s own scarred and calloused hands. He leans forward, giving Soap time to run or punch him. He’d chosen Ghost. This couldn’t change anything.
Could it?
Gaz silences the voice in his mind wondering if what he tastes is Soap or if it is the remains of the time he spent with Ghost. Gaz’s eyes burn, shedding the tears he’d denied himself. He squeezes them shut, not wanting to see the surprised look on Soap’s face. He tastes of gun oil and salt and something sweet he can’t name. Maybe it’s sweet because Gaz knows it’s the only kiss he’ll get.
He pulls back, turning away and wiping furiously at the tears burning cold down his heated cheeks, coroding his skin like acid. It’s the same acid that creeps up his throat.
“I hope he keeps you happy.” Gaz gathers his things, keeping his back to Soap, ever silent. Gaz's voice is hoarse. And hard. And angry. This was taking the gloves off, and it fucking hurt. 
Soap doesn’t speak until Gaz is stepping out of the gym and into the dark locker room. 
“You should have told me.” His own voice is deep. If Gaz closes his eyes, he can see the man standing before a firing squad, staring them down with those bright blue eyes and daring them to fire on him. Gaz was that firing squad, shooting him down with this secret knowledge.
“I should have.”
He leaves Soap standing there.
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florbexter · 9 months
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Ooh I never ask for anything in terms of prompts but I will for Semantic Error. Basically, that hug in episode 7 did me in. I live for Sangwoo leaning wholly into it with that content expression. Idk how many times I rewatched that part. Can you please do something like a touch starved Sangwoo who has just realized how much he loves cuddling/hugging and how safe he feels with Jaeyoung? But of course, him being Sangwoo, he tries to hide how much he actually wants it? But fluff too. I'm fully open to whatever you do with it beyond that, and if it works to be added with another prompt that's totally fine too.
For a human’s survival | AO3
Humans needed at least four hugs a day for survival.
Sang Woo didn’t remember where he had read that fact or why he had cataloged that information away in his brain. He wasn’t even sure if it was true. His fingers itched to type the question in his browser to get answers, but he knew that while Jae Young appeared to work on his drawing pad, he was very quick to put his attention on Sang Woo. Sang Woo had no idea how it was possible, but Jae Young was almost psychic-like in his ability to sense when something Sang Woo did would be interesting to him.
A human needed four hugs a day for survival.
Sang Woo leaned back on the couch and pressed his lips together to hide a smile when almost immediately Jae Young slid down a bit to lean himself more solid against him.
“We really should think about creating something like a mascot thingy for our game,” Jae Young mumbled, and Sang Woo looked over to him to see that he had already scribbled some rough drawings of what he had in mind.
Sang Woo made a sound that was neither confirmation nor rejection.
They were the perfect height for hugs. That wasn’t a fact Sang Woo had only realized recently. Every time they stood close Sang Woo’s eyes travelled towards Jae Young’s shoulders. How he would and did perfectly fit there.
“Maybe like a baby Brussels Sprout,” Jae Young said, and Sang Woo realized he had missed part of their conversation.
“Why would we need a mascot?”
Jae Young sighed and threw him a quick look.
“We already have enough character designs for our game,” Sang Woo added, and Jae Young moved a bit away from him which he didn’t like, but their legs were thrown over each other which meant Jae Young wouldn’t be able to move away much, not with a bit of complicated limb-untangling.
“It wouldn’t appear that often, just a fun little side character. People would find it cute.”
Sang Woo didn’t get it.
“I don’t like Brussels Sprouts”, he said, and Jae Young threw his pencil at him.
+
Jae Young didn’t hug halfway.
Sang Woo had seen and experienced through his peers that awful half-hug thing. Crushing your shoulders against each other, which was unnecessary and hurtful when you could just shake hands or bow. Patting each other against the back awkwardly while your upper bodies didn’t touch…
Jae Young hugged with his whole body. He embraced Sang Woo with both arms, engulfing him in warmth and comfort. Sang Woo was able to put his face against his shoulder, to sometimes bury his nose in the crook of Jae Young’s neck to keep it warm on a cold day. Song Woo liked it the most when Jae Young put one of his hands around his neck, big and warm. His thumb would brush the tiny hairs on Song Woo’s neck and Song Woo felt like he was floating.
Since they got together the number of hugs had decreased, though. They didn’t spend that much time apart, at least not so long that meeting each other again would require a long hug. The kisses had increased. Which Song Woo liked. He liked the goodbye kisses, liked the welcome kisses even more.
Someone might say that the way they embraced each other while they kissed counted as a hug.
Sang Woo disagreed. They were fundamentally different.
But… for some odd reason, Sang Woo felt hesitant to bring it up. His desire for simple hugs. He knew himself as someone who worked for or asked for things he wanted. Jae Young had thrown an axe into his resolutions a couple of times but like in any other parts of his life Sang Woo liked to clarify things in their relationship.
Which didn’t mean Jae Young wasn’t prone to break the rules Sang Woo made. Gleefully and too successfully.
Still. Sang Woo couldn’t find a reason or made up a scenario in his mind where Jae Young would disagree to a demand for more hugs. He wouldn’t laugh at Sang Woo…
He would. He would smile very smugly while he would hug Sang Woo as tight as possible. He would also most likely act like a human backpack for the weeks to come and Sang Woo had to admit that he didn’t hate the idea.
Was he shy? Or embarrassed? Sang Woo couldn’t name the emotions running through him. Just that something stopped him from talking to Jae Young.
+
And with knowledge came awareness, came a kind of hyper-focus to sense the opportunities to get a hug. A perfect hug. A Jae Young hug. Which meant that almost 99% were perfect. Sang Woo now knew the distinctive sound Jae Young’s leather jacket made, the creak of the material when Jae Young squeezed him quickly, but strongly before he released him.
Sometimes Jae Young would step to the side, their bodies still touching, would leave one arm around Sang Woo’s shoulders and hold him tight to his side, steering him towards the direction he wanted them to go. Sang Woo thought about burying himself closer into the embrace, not a care where Jae Young was walking them.
Sometimes Jae Young would take a step back, would grab him by the shoulders, and just beam at him. Sang Woo might find poems confusing, but in very rare moments he thought he could understand why someone might want to write the onslaught of words down that popped up in his head when Jae Young smiled at him like that. To have them travel from his brain, over his face down his arms, into his fingers, bleeding from the pen into the paper, so there was written proof of all of this.
He didn’t do it, but he understood why someone would.
+
Sunlight poured through the window and colored some of Jae Young’s hair red. Sang Woo wiggled his toes and a lazy swirl of arousal traveled through his body, pooled in his belly, like a little happy reminder of what they had done a couple of minutes ago. He felt like he could fall asleep like this even though he hadn’t been tired prior to Jae Young pouncing on him.
Jae Young’s finger moved slowly over his back, painting little figures. Sang Woo sometimes thought that he didn’t even realize he moved his fingers so much. His brain never shut down, like he had to express everything that popped up in his head immediately.
Sang Woo’s head laid on Jae Young’s chest and he tried not to wiggle away and dress himself because it was midday. He liked sex. He liked sex with Jae Young. There hadn’t been a lot of persuasion, if any, to fall on the sofa with Jae Young. Still. It was midday. He had ideas and expectations in his head – about sex – and one of them was that you did it when it was dark outside. Also, that you would do it on a bed. And that you didn’t cuddle under a blanket that wasn’t able to cover two grown men on the couch, stark naked, afterwards.
It made something under his skin itch that they didn’t follow these rules. But Jae Young was good at scratching that itch, like when they had done it at night, in a bed, but Sang Woo hadn’t been able to focus because Jae Young hadn’t pulled off his shirt and sex was something you did naked. And Jae Young had laughed at him when he had pointed it out, full of delight, with crinkles around his eyes, his lips red from kisses. Then he had done some weird moves that he had called stripping and the itch had been gone. Three days later Jae Young surprised him in their bathroom and seduced him while they had been fully clothed.
Revelations. Jae Young showed him a lot of new truths about himself.
“You cold?”
Sang Woo stopped in his attempt to press himself even closer against Jae Young.
“No,” he said.
Jae Young sighed and brought his other arm down to huddle Sang Woo closer. Maybe he didn’t believe him.
“I like this,” Jae Young sighed. He raised one leg, put it over Sang Woo’s hips and effectively trapped him with his body. He squeezed Sang Woo quickly and before Sang Woo could complain about the strength of the hug, Jae Young said: “You’re so clingy lately, it’s great.”
Sang Woo stiffened. And then cursed himself for reacting. Jae Young got still and then Sang Woo got still and his thoughts raced a mile per hour.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Wrong thing to say, his mind told him. Alarm after alarm after alarm went off in his head. He had sounded like he was accusing Jae Young of accusing him about something.
Jae Young wiggled away from him, which meant, with their current closeness, that their faces were now a few centimeters apart. Their noses almost touched.
“Why are you acting weird?” And Jae Young had stopped declaring Sang Woo’s character traits as weird, or to say, those that were a part of Sang Woo that not even the most adventurous, most scandalous sex couldn’t erase. Jae Young accepted him and the things others would call ‘quirks’: That’s why when he called something Sang Woo did weird it held more meaning, more confusion, concern.
Sang Woo wanted to break out of the embrace even though this kind of embrace made him generally braver.
“Humans need four hugs a day for survival,” he said. Said like they were sitting next to each other working on their game, and he needed to info dump on Jae Young before he could concentrate on coding.
“Four hugs,” he repeated himself.
“Okay.”
Jae Young waited and Sang Woo stared at the tiny mole between the hairs of Jae Young’s left eyebrow. He had never seen that mole before. Something new to discover every day and…
“Would we wither away or what kind of survival are we talking about?”
An icy block crumbled away from Sang Woo’s lungs.
“I don’t know,” he had to admit. He wanted to break out of the embrace to see Jae Young’s face more clearly. Was he confused? Was he connecting the dots, was he—
“Is that the reason why you’re so clingy lately?”
“I’m not clingy,” Sang Woo protested. He was, he is.
“Are you saving me from withering away? From the cold touch of loneliness?”
“Hyung…” Sang Woo was not impressed. But Jae Young cackled and brought him back into his arms, his legs too, a full body hug, or more like being captured by an octopus.
“Should we count them from now on?”, Jae Young asked, whispered it into the soft skin behind Sang Woo’s ear, nibbled the question into the slope of his jaw and Sang Woo shuttered. “A minimum of four hugs a day?”
And he knew, right? That it was easy and frightening to ask for what he wanted, that he would rather hide behind a sarcastic remark, but wanted to melt into Jae Young’s compliance, his patience, the delightful way he loved.  
“I will count them,” he muttered, his hands on Jae Young’s back, digging his fingers, pressing, a threat, a promise. Jae Young laughed, the laughter of success, of amusement and maybe there was an article about the importance of laughter in a relationship, too, Sang Woo thought, basking in the warmth of Jae Young’s hug.
end.
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dieseldevi · 5 months
Text
Inspired by @jonsaprompts 's prompt of "I like having you around" and written for the amazing @deetoxicity
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