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#fic: you're gonna go far kid
jamiesfootball · 2 months
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🌹🌹🌹 🌹🌹🌹
"Smart lad." Roy nods in approval. He waves his mug at the chair beside him. "Sit down then."
The lad awkwardly folds his lanky limbs into the chair, perching nervously on the edge of his seat like a newborn foal.
Roy smirks behind his mug. "I don't bite."
Tyler winces. "No. Right, I know. You're just- intimidating? I guess? I dunno. I can never quite believe it when I'm over here. I mean, you're Roy Kent, and you served me tea this morning, and I'm here to help ruin your kitchen. Don't know why you haven't just kicked me out yet."
This, Roy thinks, is the real problem with Jamie bringing all these young players around. The ones who've only ever played under the Tartt era of therapy and big locker room apologies and endless second chances. They all come to Roy with their hearts on their sleeves, spouting the most ridiculous drivel with their entire chests and meaning it.
It's all Jamie's fault. Every starry-eyed kid with their future still hovering in the wings who comes to Roy with hope dripping from their hands cupped in offering. Each fresh-faced little muppet with kicks like battering rams and and words that sock him in the chest. Standing behind all of them is the unrepentant Mancunian who taught them it was okay to be like that in the first place.
Wouldn't matter now if Roy tried to kick Jamie out of his house; he'd still be followed by him everywhere he went.
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synonymroll648 · 8 months
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"And she [Sophie] couldn't help noticing how good he [Keefe] smelled—like wind and salt air and something a little citrusy."
hey guys remember when on page 646 of stellarlune shannon confirmed that keefe is a bit fruity (/hj)
#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc shitpost#keefe sencen#soph ty for giving us this detail while you were off being a sophie-koala <3#(sophie-koala is now a term used in canon once so far and i am taking it and RUNNING)#sokeefe#because this is from the sokeefe chapter we've all heard about by now (42)#but also. the fact that he smells like wind and salt air and something a lil citrusy?#using that for at LEAST one keefitz fic#actually that's just gonna be a staple detail about keefe for me now. keefitz sokeefitz sokeefe something else i WILL use a similar#description to this no matter what. keefe absolutely WOULD smell like oranges. to me.#just because i love the idea of him going from eating oranges to use the peel for a smiley face the way kids love to do in elementary#to do it for that and because he just likes the fruit#salt air is pretty self explanatory because he likes the ocean but like. wind?#i'm pretty sure the context in this one is that he was off flying w/ silveny but. i love the idea that he ALWAYS smells like wind#like wind in your hair on a roadtrip like wind whipping against your clothes in a summer thunderstorm like wind blowing through lonely#hilltops like wind trying to catch you when you're falling off a cliff knowing damn well it won't save you but trying anyway#wind is never here to stay. keefe's never here to stay. he's wired to always be on the move#keefe being equated w/ wind is just. yes#damn i kinda derailed from keefe being a fruit but. he can be both guys i promise
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lenakluthor · 18 days
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totally random question but do you read supercorp fics? and if yes, which ones are your favorites?
i absolutely read supercorp fics! i've been devouring ao3 basically since i finished the show. here are a few of my faves: people will say we're in love by AKAWWJJD - this was recommended to me by a friend and was the second ever supercorp fic i read. it's angsty, but it's BEAUTIFUL and it's one of my favorite fics from any fandom, ever. it's basically a rewrite of crisis and the aftermath of that (with a heartbreaking, post-reveal beginning), and it's just so, so good. it really set the bar for me in terms of supercorp fics and i still think about it to this day. it's heartbreaking and poignant and just. perfect.
the banks of certain rivers and ever more light by @i-am-robie - these two go together, but if you only read one, read ever more light (although i highly suggest reading both). i found this one through a gifset based on the fic, and i am SO happy i did. this is the fic that made me believe in fluff again. i'm not kidding, before i found this fic, if it wasn't tagged as angst, i was not reading it. this one? completely changed my opinion. it's so soft and sweet and it gives you the same butterflies and good feelings kara gets around lena. i actually love these so much that i am in the process of binding them into a book.
same old blues by @searidings - this one is, in my opinion, hands down the best portayal of lena i've read so far. it captures her anger and hurt and emotions so well and it just feels exactly like lena. it picks up after the end of season four and is exactly how i imagine lena's reaction to kara being supergirl. obviously it's canon divergent, but this one just really nails lena. it's angsty and emotional and just SO good. the author describes it as "horny enemies to lovers" in their note and that really sums it up pretty well.
you're in my blood, like holy wine by @jazzfordshire - this one is one of my favorite AUs. it's a loose practical magic AU with witch!lena, but much more developed and fleshed out than in the show. not only does it have really well written supercorp, but it also showcases a really well done friendship between lena and sam. i'm gonna be real i'm very picky about AUs, but this one GOT me. i definitely recommend it.
i also highly recommend checking out all four of those authors' other works. robie has an AU that i really enjoyed, searidings has a fun little competitive supercorp one shot, jazzfordshire has one of my favorite smutty one shots, and AKAWWJJD has a mxy rewrite that is just wonderful.
i've read so many more that were really worth reading, so i highly recommend scrolling through the supercorp tag on ao3 and filtering out the results to find ones you might be into. i could've mentioned a bunch more that i enjoyed, but i figured i'd keep it to my top four and the honorable mentions because the authors all happened to have multiple i love. i've also got like, more than 40 open ao3 tabs currently, so i know my favorites list will definitely be growing.
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mayfieldss · 3 months
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ok idk who this could be with, but fic idea: fake dating trope inspired by the song 'hate to be lame' by lizzy mcalpine and finneas... it has POTENTIAL.!!
Hate to be lame, but I might love you | Steve Harrington
BABE THIS CONCEPT IS SO </3 POTENTIAL INDEED!!! I'm gonna admit I went wayyy off track from the song and kind of just went feral with the concept of fake dating Steve.
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"You're hands are sweaty."
"Yeah, well, so are yours."
"That's because my hand is covered in the sweat from your sweaty hand." your voice comes as a sharp whisper that only Steve can hear as you walk toward your friends not two days after your little agreement.
"Oh shut up."
"Why do we have to hold hands anyway?"
"Because that's what couples do, trust me I'm the expert." Steve nudges your side with his elbow, and you push back harder, making him flinch.
"Yeah, because you've had such successful past relationships." You're grumbling and acting more like a child as the regret sinks in. Why you'd agreed to this even to assist the romance between your two friends was beyond you. There were far easier ways to get the same result.
"That was a low blow." Steve sounds only slightly deflated but his energy returns as the rest of your friends begin to notice the intertwined fingers and the smiles you're sending them, that while fake, are convincing enough.
"Hey, this is new!" It's Dustin, always the first to voice an opinion, and he's eyeing the both of you as though he's Sherlock Holmes inspecting a fresh crime scene. "Is this a cute thing or a friend thing?" he's frowning, and you offer up an answer.
"Can't a friend thing be a cute thing also?"
"So it's a friend thing?" Dustin raises a brow and looks to Steve. For a second you swear they have some sort of silent and private conversation before Steve interjects with words that seem to startle the entire group surrounding you.
"No, it's not a friend thing." He moves his hand from yours, opting to drape his arm over your shoulder, making a show whilst you wipe your hand discreetly on your shorts.
"Surprise..??" the word comes strained from your lips and you are thankful for the fact that Steve is such a charmer. Whilst he's been more than a bad liar in the past he seems like a professional actor now, award-winning even as he sells your relationship to the group.
Your first kiss in his car one day after work, and first date at the small bakery down the street from your house. The way he'd been crushing on you since he saw you beat the hell out of some Demogorgons to defend the kids, and just how happy you were together. How he was so convincing you didn't know, but you almost found yourself believing him for parts of it, as if you didn't already know the truth. It was all fake, a ruse put together so that Steve could convince Robin and Nancy that he had in fact moved on. A perfectly crafted fake relationship so that Robin and Nancy could finally get together and feel guilt free.
"Well, I can't say I didn't see it coming." It's Dustin again, forever the speechmaker, and the smile on his lips is unbearably sweet. He's oblivious, it seems, and it occurs to you then that the little scheme you and Steve put together might have some negative impacts. Dustin cared about Steve in the way a little brother looks up to the older sibling, or perhaps the way a son looked up to a father, and maybe it wasn't so good for the boy to get attached to the idea of Steve finally finding some romantic peace. After all, it was nothing romantic of the sort, and whilst the game you had going wouldn't affect Dustin directly, it did seem that he was excited over the concept of you and Steve together.
Despite these thoughts, you find yourself moving an arm around Steve's waist, leaning into him as if it were real, because if you were doing this, you were sure as hell gonna do it right. Dustin smiles, somehow wider than before, before moving off to meet the other younger members of the group. Robin eyes the two of you from a distance, with something of a confused yet proud expression, and you hope that for whatever reason, she believes the show you're putting on.
When you feel Steve's breath against your ear, the shivers that run down your spine are barely controlled. "Good job." it's a whisper as he squeezes your shoulder, "I'm gonna go get us some drinks."
And with that, he walks away, leaving you to wonder how exactly this is going to work.
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It goes well for the most part and soon you start to see changes in Robin and Nancy's behavior toward each other. They seem closer, more interested now that Robin's not afraid to make a move on the girl Steve had once been so hung up on.
But you can't deny that in private it has become somewhat awkward between you and Steve. Something changed over the past few weeks of pretending and you're not quite sure where it all went wrong, but the teasing relationship you'd once had was now evaporating before your eyes.
Steve currently had an arm over your shoulder as he sat beside you in the old bakery café where he had claimed you'd had your first kiss to the rest of the group. The old leather booth was supposedly filled with the fondest of memories for the both of you, though in truth you had never entered the place until today.
"You two really do make a hot couple." It's Robin leaning her elbows on the table from the booth across from you and Steve, Nancy at her side though they sit further apart.
"I second this," Nancy smiles, a wide and sweet expression that makes you really believe her. And suddenly you feel bad for lying to them both.
"Here," Before you can dwell on the feeling, Nancy's pulled out an old camera, one she was gifted by Jonathan back when they were something of a pair themselves. She still keeps it close, and she'd planned to use it for some journalism work later in the day, but it seems she's willing to waste some of the camera's potential now.
"Smile you two." She's peering into the camera, and instinctively you lean into Steve, smiling for the shot. But that doesn't seem to appease either Robin or the eldest Wheeler sibling, both of them scheming to create the best memories for you both.
"C'mon Steve," Robin instructs, "Give her a kiss for the camera." Steve does so hesitantly, pressing a short peck to your cheek and waiting for the camera to click, but nothing happens.
When he looks up he finds both Nancy and Robin chuckling before Nancy herself begins to speak. "Look, Steve, I know you're trying to be polite because, well, we used to be something—but I really don't mind if you two kiss. I'm happy for you both, and I assure you I've moved on." She spares a glance to Robin and it would have been sweet if you weren't panicking deep inside. You had yet to kiss Steve at all and the plan had been that you would never have to but now that your excuse seemed to be up in flames you weren't sure what to do, or say.
Steve didn't seem at all bothered, and maybe that should have concerned you more than it did, but honestly, you were grateful for the confidence he held when yours was nowhere to be found.
"Yeah, you're right. We didn't want to cause any drama with, you know," Steve gestures between himself and you, "Us."
"But that's the thing!" Nancy exclaims in a rather Robin-like fashion. (Perhaps the girl was rubbing off on her a little too much.) "I'm happy for you, and I really don't mind." She raises the camera again, a smile tugging at her lips as Robin shuffles a little closer to peak through the lens with her. "Do some cute couple shit for the camera. You may kiss your girlfriend." Robin says, and a nervous laugh escapes you as Steve locks his eyes with yours. it's a look that speaks,'You really wanna do this?' and 'We can back out now if you want.' all at once, but there's something else there that you can't quite decode.
You nod in response to his silent question, however, and it takes a moment before either of you can get up the guts to do anything at all. Steve leans in first, slow and steady, and you know he notices the breath that catches in your throat. His lips so close, his hair just barely brushing your forehead as he moves downward, his face inching ever closer to yours. But he stops, and it seems as if time itself does too, when Mike Wheeler bursts into the bakery, tall frame and skinny limps carrying him through the door and toward the booth at which the four of you sit.
"Nancy, god it took forever to find you! Mom's going crazy over dinner tonight and—" It all seems to fade off. Mike is still talking but you block him out, a ringing in your ears replacing his words as you wonder what could have happened had a few more seconds passed before the boys' arrival.
Either way, it would have meant nothing, because you don't like Steve like that, and you never will. Right?
Steve is sitting, brows furrowed beside you, staring at your figure as you watch Mike Wheeler ramble on about something Nancy needs to come home for. You don't seem to be listening and he doesn't blame you because honestly, he doesn't know if he is either, but he wonders what you are thinking about.
He's certainly thinking about things he shouldn't be.
But soon Nancy stands, and Robin follows suit and they say something that the both of you ignore. And they leave, as you wave them goodbye, and they say they'll be in touch. All of a sudden you're sat next to Steve, alone with a chocolate chip muffin between you.
"That was a close one don't you think?" It's you who says it and your voice startles Steve. You see him jump, and then adjust himself to sit like the cool high school heartthrob he had once been.
"Real close, sorry." the apology is genuine, and Steve pauses, looking around the bakery. "You wanna get out of here?"
You manage a nod, shuffling from the booth awkwardly. "Let's go."
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"Did you want me to drop you home?" Steve's leaning on the side of his car as he watches you, waiting. He looks so different somehow, changed from the teenager you would sit next to in the chemistry lab. He hadn't spoken to you much at all back then, and you would do all the hard work for the passing grades, but now he seems....lost.
You suppose fighting interdimensional monsters can do that to a person. That kind of thing changes a perspective for sure, and the look in his eyes can be thrown down to such a concept.
"Sure," you go to say more, but decide against it as Steve moves around the car to open the passenger side door for you. The kind of thing you had yet to experience for a long time. When he gets behind the wheel he's focused, staring out the windshield.
"So, I'll drop you home." it's awkward, unsure and it's hard to find a response.
"Well, I don't know what else we're supposed to do."
Steve clears his throat, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "We could go to work—your work I mean, show off a little to the kid at the checkout. The one you have a crush on."
"He's literally the same age as us Steve. Stop calling him a kid." with your arms folded over your chest you watch Steve for a reaction, and he gives you one. His nose wrinkles up, turning to face you.
"He looks like a kid."
"He does not!" there's a laugh hidden behind your words, and Steve smiles, just a little. It's a nice thing to see.
"He has a babyface, he's got the smooth face of a baby."
"Like you're one to talk Harrington," you reach over, running a hand across his cheek. "You've got nothing on this face of yours."
Steve isn't nervous. He's not. The feeling of your skin on his, the warmth of your hand on his face has no effect on his heart rate. His heart beats this fast all the time. "I'll have you know that I've got a moustache coming in."
You pull back, buckling yourself into your seat. "That stubble on your upper lip doesn't count for shit Steve, don't give yourself a big head."
"Alright, well am I taking you home or what?" He wants to hide the grin on his lips, though he can't seem to put it away. It's stuck, the expression seemingly permanent. You're smiling too, and when you look over at him, his hands on the wheel and yours in your lap, it's all over.
"Let's go give babyface a run for his money."
-
It doesn't work out like it's supposed to, and as you walk into the store, out of uniform and entirely out of character, your confidence fades. "This was a bad idea." you mumble the words to Steve, who stands beside you, waiting to make a minor scene.
He looks down at you, peculiar frown pulling at his brows. "It's a great idea. Just making a little chaos, that's all." he doesn't sound like himself either, and in truth, his eyes are now scanning around the store, waiting for your target to show.
"Let's just go, Steve. It's dumb—this is dumb." before you can say anything more Steve's got his arm sliding softly around your waist, pulling you just that bit closer to his side. You don't flinch at the touch, the touch of a friend acting as though they're more. You should think more of it, feel more uncomfortable than you do, but you don't. You see your coworker approaching, apron over his regular uniform. You don't think you'd ever had a crush on him in the first place, despite what Steve had persisted, and even though the guy is cute, it doesn't seem to mean anything. Looking up at Steve is a struggle, and when you do you find his eyes still locked on the fated supermarket employee.
"Steve," muttering his name brings his eyes back to yours, and his gaze looks slightly different than it did before. "Let's get out of here."
"You sure?" the question hangs in the words, but something in him sounds relieved at the concept, as if all of a sudden this doesn't matter to him either. But he doesn't have a second to lead you away from the store before something else seems to enter the equation. Someone else.
"Hey, didn't expect to see you here." it's your coworker 'crush' standing before you with a strained grin. "It's your day off." He's says it in a way that suggests he's reminding you, in case you've forgotten. You don't miss the way his eyes flicker to Steve, and in particular, Steve's arm, still around your waist, his hand placed so convincingly as his fingers press affectionately into your side.
"Yeah, just came in to get some things." you smile back at the boy genuinely, as Steve buts into the conversation.
"Just some snacks...for date night." he's playing his part still, you realize, even if you weren't.
"Date night? You two are—I didn't see that coming." you think you must have imagined it, the deflated falter in your friends words. He didn't like you, he couldn't. He wouldn't. He was hardly a friend anyway, just the guy behind the checkout that you would wave and smile to during the work day. You couldn't possibly be hurting him with this, could you?
Steve squeezes you closer to his side, and it seems to be going a little too far. You're not sure if he does it just to get under the skin of the guy in front of you, or if he's trying to tell you something along the lines of "it's working."
You hope it's none of the above.
"Well, we should get going." diffusing the situation is all you can think to do, but now leaving isn't an option. If you don't exit the store with the so called 'snacks' you came in for, it might just mix things up further. You grab Steve by the hand, pulling him toward the candy aisle, sending your seemingly heartbroken coworker a sympathetic goodbye smile.
Once out of sight and snooping range, you give up the act. "Steve, this has to stop."
"What no, Nancy and Robin—they've just started connecting." Steve sounds disappointed, grasping for something to hold on to.
"There are other ways we can play matchmaker with them, but this...it's going too far. I can't do it." the way your eyes plead with Steve to end things, sends shivers across his spine. He feels the sting of your words as if it's all real, but of course it never was.
"So, we're breaking up?" he mumbles, trying not to let the words remind him of the familiar heartbreaks he's had before.
"Don't say it like that," there's a gentle laugh from your lips, soft, calmer than you were before. "That makes it sound like we were really a thing."
That cuts Steve deep. He can't help it, and his mind wanders to the feeling of your hand still holding his. He doesn't think you know that you're still doing it, so he squeezes your hand with his own, testing the waters. You let go.
You'd been Steve's fake girlfriend for over a month, and now suddenly, standing amongst bags of chocolate and sweets, you weren't anymore.
"So, just friends again?" You extend a hand as if to shake on the deal, and Steve accepts, though this time there is no affection in the way his hand holds yours.
"Friends." He confirms, and it really is over.
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You don't let on to your friends directly that you'd split apart. Maybe due to the hopes that Robin and Nancy could make their own way a little faster whilst they were still under the impression of you and Steve in love. But you no longer hold hands in public, and you don't follow each other around like lost dogs.
It's weird, knowing that Steve isn't trailing behind you like he used to, and it's odd not having his car pull up in your driveway every day. You were so used to him surrounding you after the few months of being his partner in crime, that the distance from him has set up an ache in your heart.
Steve feels similarly, and the way the man goes about his days now are less interesting, and far less fun. Dustin caught on almost immediately, and despite the deal Steve made with you to never tell a soul in the group about your little agreement, he can't help but tell the young boy everything.
"So what you're saying is you never dated in the first place?" Dustin questions, Steve nodding.
"Yeah."
"But you think you might have fallen in love with her for real?"
Hearing Dustin say it out loud sends a pang of longing through Steve and he knows then that he most definitely has fallen head over heels for someone he was never supposed to love in the first place.
"Yeah. That sounds about right."
"Dude," Dustin has a grin on his lips and Steve can tell he's about to made fun of before it happens. "You are so lame. Honestly, can you just admit to yourself that you had a crush on her from the start? It was never fake to you, was it?" The kid is smart, and can see right through his older friend. He held no surprise when Steve told him the truth, because he found it quite obvious how Steve truly felt. It was why Steve's stories about how he fell in love with you felt so real to the group in the first place. Because they were the furthest thing from fake.
Steve doesn't respond, thinking it over. Dustin is right he realizes, and it's not surprising at all.
"You gotta tell her, man." Dustin speaks again, and Steve nods.
"Yeah. I know."
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Two days later and Mike has invited everyone over, including the older kids, to spend the day together. It gives you Deja vu as you enter the house, having been to a similar hangout with Steve months before when you first introduced yourselves as a couple. Now you walk in alone, no sweaty hand to hold.
Steve's heart skips a beat when he sees you, and Dustin nudges him hard with his shoulder, as if Steve hasn't already been alerted of your presence. He thinks you look beautiful, but he always does. He realizes these things now. Now that he knows how he feels.
"Hey," Steve stands to greet you and you offer him a friendly smile back.
"Hey, Steve." It's still awkward between you, and has been ever since the fake breakup. Perhaps that's due to the fact you've both been avoiding each other like the plague since it happened.
"I need to talk to you about something later, is that okay?" He keeps his voice low, not wanting the others to hear about the private matters he wants to discuss. He can tell he's confusing you, but you agree thanks to his puppy dog eyes.
"Yeah, okay." Despite your agreeance, you plan to avoid Steve for the rest of the day, solely due to the fact you've begun to feel things that you shouldn't be. You were so used to being his friend, and seeing him as one, but now your thoughts have begun to linger on him more than they should, as do your eyes.
You can't help but admire the way he is with the kids, and the way his hands comb through his hair casually as if he doesn't know just how appealing it makes him. You focus a little too much on whether he's looking at you or not, and the sound of his laugh is too familiar now.
He was your friend, and whilst you'd promised he would stay that way, you weren't so sure you could keep it.
"Hey," Steve has caught you in the kitchen, going to get more soda for the party after a long day of avoidance. You'd hoped to spend a few minutes alone, and most of all, had hoped to keep evading him, but Steve had other plans.
You place the sodas on the counter, closing the fridge with caution. "It sure is hot today." You mumble in the hopes of keeping the conversation light. You know he's here to confront you about the distance you've been keeping from him. It can't be anything else.
"Yeah, it's summer." He feels bad about cornering you in the kitchen, but he knows this might be one of the only chances he has at asking you how you feel. Even with what Dustin had said, Steve doesn't know if he can bring himself to tell you what's been going on inside his head over the past couple of months, but he hopes you'll be willing to tell him what's been happening in yours.
"Are you okay?" even though you saw it coming, Steve's question still startles you.
You nod, though your voice involuntarily raises an octave. "Yeah, I'm fine. How are you?" You're not fine, and the lie is clear, but Steve is more than honest with you.
"I'm tired of us acting like we haven't fucked up our relationship." He leans against the counter in a kind of defeated gesture, weakening your resolve. "I don't want to keep fighting to be around you. I want you to feel comfortable around me again. Call me an idiot, a loser or something, like you used to."
"I can't." your whisper seems so loud in your own ears.
"I promise I'll call you pretentious and dramatic right back, just say it. Call me a name, make it how it used to be." there's a kind of desperation hidden within Steve's words, one you haven't heard before. One you doubt anyone has heard before. It stands in the silence, for your ears alone.
"You really want me to list all the shit I hate about you?" There's a shake to your voice, as if you're close to screaming or crying, but you're not sure which will come first.
"Well, I didn't say that—"
"I hate your stupid hair. Your teeth are too straight, and I don't like the way you talk to me, how your voice gets all soft and sweet. It's irritating when you smile because it makes me smile too, and you're laugh just—it just pisses me off." You stop for breath, sucking in the air as you focus on the boy in front of you. You've taken a few steps toward him with your words spoken, slow, and steady. "And I hate the fact you made me like you. I hate the way you're so unhateable to everyone around you, including me."
There's a small twitch of Steve's lips, and you can tell they want to pull upwards into the smile you just claimed to despise. He doesn't let them though, pushing himself back from the counter. "You wanna know what I hate about you?"
Your heart leaps into your throat but you don't show any sign of response, staring at him with as much blankness as you can muster.
"Absolutely everything, and nothing at all." He says it quietly. He doesn't need volume to get his point across. He's taken the steps needed to close the gap between you, and he's waiting for your approval. "In fact, I think I could love you, if you'll let me."
You let out a breath, somewhere between relief and excitement. "You're so lame, Harrington."
"You know you love it." he leans in closer, and you do the same, lips brushing against his.
"You know, I think I could love you too, if you'll let me of course." you allow yourself a grin at the sight of one on Steve's own lips, contagious as always.
"I think we could come to an arrangement." He's fucking with you, but you're too impatient to respond with anything but a kiss, gentle and sweet to his lips. You're not the first person to kiss Steve Harrington, but Steve thinks you might be the best.
"Come on, the others are waiting." You pick up the sodas left on the counter and push past Steve with the widest smile you've held in weeks, and Steve follows close behind.
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GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu
STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST: @buckys2thicc @browneyes528
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mono-dot-jpeg · 11 months
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the tiny exception - express crew
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summary; there's only one exception to the few rules that the express crew have...
genre/extra tags; fluff, family dynamics, pompom is the softest rabbit thing in the universe i love them, papa welt (real), auntie himeko iykyk, the rest of the gang are the siblings, caelus learns abt the world with you :'), your honor they're just trash raccoons, selective mute! caelus
[platonic] [child (7-9)! reader]
[warnings; reader implied to have a tough life before getting taken in, trash digging mentioned/j]
word count; 608
a/n; whoops i made another hsr fic and it's another family fic :) im watching blue lock rn and it's definitely passed some expectations and i like it so far so that's good, there's some silly little guys i like (it's the crazies unsurprisingly) maybe i'll write something to test the waters for blue lock. this show wildin tho
i use caelus for hsr so im writing caelus, sorry stelle enjoyers
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[rule 1; no touching pompom]
caelus learned that one after attempting to comfort the conductor. and yet,
"you're so squishy, pompom!" a pure as snow giggle rings in the train as the trailblazer watches you cuddle pompom. "so fluffy!"
"oi! don't hug me too hard!" they squirm, trying to loosen your grip.
"sorry!" you smile innocently as you look up to see the silver-haired trailblazer, watching you. "hey caelie!" you let go of pompom, running straight to him.
he's quick to pick you up as you stretch your own arms out towards him. he looks at you with curious eyes and then glances at pompom who is cleaning their uniform.
"i wanted to hug pompom! and i did!" you cheered. it earns you a silent chuckle from caelus. much to pompom's relief, he takes you away and to the passenger rooms.
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[rule 2; don't drink mr. welt's coffee]
that rule was interesting. it was set because of you really. you tried the coffee once and almost cried. turns out you can't handle the bitter taste unsurprisingly.
"i know you're gonna do it, y/n." you freeze in his lap as welt continues to answer caelus's questions on the phone.
"but what if it tastes different?"
"it's still coffee, dear." you rest your cheek on welt's shoulder, face squished as you stare at the cup of dark liquid. welt doesn't say anything after that, a gentle sigh leaving his lips.
"did auntie himeko make it?"
"no, she didn't."
"then it will taste different." you reason but it doesn't sway the tired father figure. you reach to take a sip. you look up at welt as if expecting the male to stop you but he doesn't.
he knows. he knows what's going to happen and he's not going to stop it. (he does have a different drink on hand, ready for you.)
you take a sip.
and you cry. "papa!" he sets your favorite drink down, moving the coffee towards him. "why do you drink that?!" he guides your favorite drink towards you and you immediately drink it.
"i drink it because i like it."
"you have bad tastes, papa." you stick your tongue out at him.
"and yet you keep drinking it every time."
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[rule 3; sleep on time!]
another rule in place for you. did you ever follow it? sometimes.
but you were only a kid.
"but i don't wanna sleep!" you tugged onto dan heng's clothes as if he would help.
he does not.
"you need to sleep. you're going to be all sleepy in the morning."
"but i want to stay with you guys!" dan heng picks you up into his slightly awkward hold. "please?" you drag out your pleas in hopes of convincing your older brother figure to let you stay up with the trio.
"sorry, y/n. but i don't think welt would allow that."
"but i'm not ti.. tired!" you yawn between your last word, your hands reaching to rub your eyes.
"you totally are, y/n." march cooed, taking you from dan heng's arms. "let's get you to himeko or welt, hm?" the trio is gentle to bid you a goodnight and a pat on the head (and kiss on the cheek from march) while you're taken to rest with himeko.
"there's the sweetie. awh, you must be exhausted." you're laying in himeko's arms, feeling sleepy with her warmth wrapped around you. "thank you march, have a good time with the others." march waves her goodbye before leaving with the trailblazer and dan heng.
"but i wanna go..." you frown, twisting and turning in the redhead's arms.
"how about you spend sometime with me, welt, and pompom before bed?" himeko suggests.
"are we gonna read some stories?"
"we'll let you pick."
"okay."
you fell asleep about 3 minutes later before you could even hear a story.
2K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 1 year
Note
Please write some more Miguel O’Hara fics!! Maybe something where he’s trying to fuck a baby into you. 😘
I'm glad Miguel is being well received. I'm curious how unhinged they go with him, so far he seems pretty wild.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, married couple, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, dirty talk, creampie, size kink
A/N: Miguel is gonna wreck some shit in the movie for sure and I will foam at the mouth for it.
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Miguel has always been passionate when it came to your love making. Although recently he's been retraining himself for some reason. Longing, lustful, pulsing hard cock, about to finish and then pulling out and tearing the condom off just before he shoots long ropes of cum all over youd body. He growls at the sight, for some reason angry.
"Not at you my love, I'm angry at myself. Lately I wanted to... its been hard for me not to push my cum back inside you when we're like this. Its beautiful on you yet, a part of me wants to see it inside of you instead. Baby fever? Heh, I suppose so, maybe a little. I think our babies would be beautiful don't you? We... don't have to. I understand that what I do isn't exactly a fatherly job."
He was about to excuse himself when you pulled him close, hands on his shoulders and legs loose around his broad hips. His eyes lit up when you told him it was okay, you... think he would give you beautiful kids. Lots of them in fact.
"Lots? How many? How many do you want? Fuck... hold still, I need to get back inside then. Feels even better with no condom on, you're so tight after you just orgasmed and yet I feel your pussy wants more. I won't pull out this time. Gonna fuck my cum into your womb. Put a baby inside you, yeah. Gonna make your belly big and round and so beautiful when you start showing. Come on, hold me closer, feel my cock deep inside you, feel my cum flowing into your drooling cunt."
As Miguel and you reached your climaxes together you left deep marks down his back, all the way to his tailbone. He didn't move this time, but he wasn't fully on top of you either, enough to hold you but mindful not to put too much pressure on you.
"You like feeling my big cock keep the cum inside. Its not going anywhere this time. You're gonna take all of it. Still want more? I can feel you tryiNg to milk me dry. I have lots more for you."
1K notes · View notes
Text
Can I Show You?
pairing: Toji x Reader
warnings: vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, Toji calls reader "good girl"
synopsis: Toji wants to show you how much he loves you in the only way he knows how.
word count: 5.5k i went off lmfao
a/n: This was so hard for me to write because I felt like the sex scenes were just so empty. I've been going back and forth with this fic for a month and I'm just gonna post it bc fuck it. Also I love Toji dearly and I really wanted to write something that showed a softer side to him.
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You're reading Megumi a bedtime story when you hear the front door open and close. 
“Papa!!” The little boy exclaimed excitedly. He quickly jumps out of his covers and slides off the bed backwards, his legs not quite long enough to reach the ground yet. He was only 3 after all. 
You smile warmly at your son's enthusiasm and can't help your own giddiness at your husband coming home. 
You close the book and follow Megumi's path out to the front room. 
“Hey son,” Toji picks Megumi up in his arms, “did you take care of Mama while I was gone?” Toji asks, glancing over at where your body was resting against the wall. 
“Yes!! I always take care of Mama!” Megumi replied. 
“Good, I'm glad.” At that Toji walked over to you, a small smile on his face as he bent down to give you a quick kiss on the lips. 
You looked up at him, “Welcome home. We missed you.”
His eyes softened as he looked between you and Megumi, “I missed you guys too. I'm happy to be home.” 
Normally, Toji was home in time for dinner, but since the holidays were coming up he'd been picking up extra shifts to afford gifts. 
“We were in the middle of reading a bedtime story if you'd like to join?” You ask. 
Before Toji could reply Megumi was bouncing excitedly in his arms, “Yeah!! Want Papa too!”
Toji smiles, “All right.” 
Once Megumi is settled back in bed with the both of you sitting on either side of him, you begin to read. As you do, Toji can’t help but to take it all in. A wife. A son. A job. A home. He doesn't know how he got so lucky. 
He looks over at you as you read, his loving wife, with a soul so pure he felt like he tainted it just by being near you. What did you see in him? How could you love someone like him?
He looks down at the little boy tucked under his blankets. His son, who has your eyes and kindness. How could something so perfect be half of him? He didn’t think he was good for anything but ending lives, but here sat a life that he helped create. His blessing. 
Looking between you both, Toji felt like he didn't deserve either of you. He never imagined in a million years that he would have this. A normal life. Not with the way he used to live. And he especially never thought he'd be a father. With how shitty his upbringing was he was afraid he would fuck up whatever kid he had. But with your guidance, and a lot of self-help books, you were both making it work. He would do anything for this family. It was his only one, as far as he was concerned. 
After you finished the book you both gave Megumi a kiss goodnight and retreated to your own room. 
As soon as the door closed, Toji's hands were on you, gently cupping your face. You gazed into his green eyes and in them you saw nothing but adoration and devotion. He's come such a long way since you first met him. 
“Do you know how much I love you?” He asks. 
You giggle, “Yes, you love me a lot. You say it all the time.”
At that he rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, “I love you more than that. I don't...I don't know how to convey how much I love you.” Toji didn’t know love until he met you. All he knew was abuse and hatred and resentment. How could he properly express how much love he felt for your family and what you've built? He could tell you he loves you every hour of every day for the rest of your lives and it wouldn’t be enough. You and Megumi meant everything to him. He doesn't know what he would do, who he would be, without the two of you. 
His eyes open again and your heart aches at how desperate he looks. “The both of you mean everything to me. Everything.” 
You can feel how hard he's trying to get his feelings across to you, pleading with his eyes for you to understand. 
You respond by gently placing your hand over the one he has on your cheek, and placing your other hand directly over his heart, “I know, Toji. I know. We both know and we love you too. So very much.”
You both gaze into each other's eyes for a second longer and you hope he believes you. He's never felt worthy of your love. You knew about his past, he didn't hide it from you, but he changed his ways. For you. He started working on himself and got a regular 9-5 working on HVAC systems. He puts his entire self into your little family, or at least as much as he can. You can tell he's still hesitant about being a father. Like he's afraid he'll break Megumi. But you believe in him. 
“What did I do to deserve you.” He says and starts planting kisses all along your face. 
You giggle at his affection, “I could be asking myself that about you.”
He stops kissing you for a second and looks at you, “I definitely got the better end of the deal here sweetheart let's not kid ourselves.” And he goes back to kissing your jawline and down your neck. 
“You make me happy and feel loved. I couldn't ask for anything more.” The end of your sentence comes out breathy as Toji starts nibbling at a certain spot above your collarbone.
“Can I show you? Please, can I show you how much I love you?” He murmurs against your neck.
You nod. You know Toji has a hard time expressing himself with words, but his feelings are always evident in his actions. He likes to surprise you with flowers on random days of the week, with your favorite breakfast in bed on the weekend, with a foot rub or a back massage when you’re sore. But most telling of all is how much he’s changed. He went from being closed off and dangerous to a hard-working family man. It took a lot of work, but he met you at every step of the way in trying to better himself. You know him showing his love for you in this way is as much for you as it is for him. He needs you to know how he feels and this is one of the ways he knows how to do it.
With one last kiss to your forehead, Toji picks you up effortlessly and lays you gently on the bed, hovering over you as he brushes his lips against yours, looking into your eyes. This close you could see just how green they were. A dark green, like a dense forest lit up only by the light of a full moon. 
He planted a light kiss on your lips, not breaking eye contact, “I love you, y/n.”
“I love you too, Toji”
He finally broke eye contact as he trailed light kisses down your jaw and to your neck and then across your collarbones and back up the other side of your neck and jaw. He was slow and thorough with his kisses, like he had all the time in the world. 
You closed your eyes to focus on the way his full lips felt on your sensitive skin. He hadn’t even really touched you yet but you were already feeling hot. Something about how slow and deliberate he was being was getting you worked up.
His lips were on yours once again, moving against them slowly. You felt his tongue lightly trace your bottom lip and you opened your mouth wider for him. His tongue in your mouth immediately found your own and circled it before licking the roof of your mouth and inside of your cheeks. 
Your hands found their way into his hair, holding him to you as he continued to move his lips against yours. You couldn’t help the light moans that were escaping you, you wanted more, and you could tell he wanted more too by the way he looked at you after disconnecting your lips to breathe. His pupils were wide and his breath was warm against your swollen lips. 
He stroked your rosy cheek with one hand before pressing one last kiss to your lips and then hooking his arm behind your back, pulling you into a sitting position. 
He grabbed your shirt by the bottom hem and pulled it over you, followed by unhooking your bra and throwing them both to the side. 
He looked at your bare torso, your nipples beginning to harden from the sudden cold, “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful.” 
You couldn’t help but blush. 
“Lay back down for me.” He whispered to you and grabbed your hand and held your back in his other one, guiding you back down. 
When you were situated he got to work on removing your leggings and panties, leaving you naked.
He laid down next to you and kissed you softly, hand cupping your face, but then slowly running down the length of your body, his featherlight touch making you shiver. He passed his hand over your sternum, then down your stomach before angling towards your hip and then rubbing down your thigh towards your knee before retracing his steps up the other side of your body. He was avoiding your erogenous zones which was starting to drive you crazy. You wanted him to touch you goddamn it. You could already feel the wetness gathering between your thighs as his languid movements made your pussy pulse. 
“Toji I ne-”
“Shh, sweetheart, I’ll get there.” He whispered, cutting you off with a thick finger to your lips.
Despite his words, though, he did finally give you some relief. He moved down so he could take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth while his hand played with the other one. 
His tongue licked circles over your areolas, occasionally flicking your nipple. He moved to the other one to repeat the process. Each flick and roll of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure running through you. Toji was a master with his tongue and knew exactly what to do to make you feel good.
You ran your fingers through his hair as he continued to suck and lick and massage your breasts, squeezing your thighs together to get the stimulation you were desperate for. 
You let out a breathy sigh, holding his head close to your chest, enjoying the feel of his lips sucking on your nipple. He finally paused to look up at your relaxed face, “You’re beautiful.” He said as he caressed your cheek. 
You smiled and he leaned forward to kiss your lips again. As they moved against you, his hand once again traced down your body, but instead of deviating at your navel, it traced straight down to your mound. At the feeling of his hand trailing lower you opened your legs for him, eager for his touch to soothe the ache you felt. 
His middle finger traveled right over your clit, causing you to moan lightly, until it rested right at your entrance, with his ring and and index fingers right next to it on your pussy lips. 
He let out a sigh upon feeling how wet you were, his cock aching against his pants. But he wouldn’t give in to his own pleasure. Not yet. He needed to show you how he worshiped the ground you walked on. How he would do anything for you, no matter what it cost him. 
Looking at you through half-lidded eyes he gently pushed his finger into you, making you arch your back and moan. 
Finally you thought. 
His lips continued moving against yours as he started to move his finger, pumping it slowly in and out. You sighed against him, his thick finger giving you some relief but also making you want more. As if he could read your mind, he added another finger, scissoring them inside of you. 
“Ohhh” You moaned, arching your back again. The extra friction you felt from his added finger was just what you needed. 
Toji broke away from your lips and moved back down to your breasts, hooking his fingers inside of you at the same time he took a nipple into his mouth.
“Fuck” You let out a breathless sigh, burying your hands in his hair. 
He moved his fingers faster, hitting that sweet spot each time he pushed his fingers in.  A squelching sound filled the room as his fingers easily slipped in and out of you and he sighed against your nipples. Your pussy was drenching his fingers, he needed to taste you.
He gave your nipple one last suck before kissing his way down your body until his head rested between your legs. 
He saw how wet you were, the puddle forming under you as you squirmed and moaned from his ministrations. He bent his head down and breathed in your scent, letting out a low groan. What a perfect pussy, he thought. So wet and so beautiful and all his. His cock twitched at the thought of sliding into you, but he had a ways to go before he allowed himself to find any pleasure. He needed to make sure you understood how much he loved you first. 
With that he removed his fingers, sucking on them to taste you before peppering kisses on the inside of your thighs, causing you to whine and thrust your hips up. 
“Toji stop teasing me.” you said breathlessly. 
He looked at you through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, “Anything for you.” 
And then his eyes fell back onto your dripping cunt before he dragged the tip of his tongue from the bottom of your entrance all the way to the top, licking up the wetness overflowing from you. 
“Haaaaah” you gave out a breathy sigh, relishing in the delicate touch of his tongue. 
He licked the length of your entrance a few more times before he moved up slightly to lick your clit.The light circles he was making had you stuttering. 
You once again put your hands in his hair, trying to hold him in place so you could grind your clit on his tongue. 
He let you, holding his tongue out flat and against you, giving you the stimulation you desired. 
“Oh Toji” you moaned as you moved your hips on his tongue. 
But before you could get carried away he closed his mouth, wrapping his arms around your thighs and holding you still so you couldn’t move anymore. You were about to complain until his lips latched around your clit and he started sucking, causing you to gasp. 
He alternated sucking and licking, making you moan loudly, “Oh Toji it feels so good.” 
He detached from your clit, “I know sweetheart, yer moans sound so good.” His voice was thick with desire.
He moved back down to your entrance, licking up the mixture of his saliva and your juices that were staining the bed. But this time, he kept rubbing your clit with his thumb while he prodded you with his tongue. The feel of his soft tongue against your folds had you moving your hips, desperate for more. He obliged, sticking his tongue in you and licking your walls. 
You moaned loudly, “Oh babyy, oh Toji, fuck.” You were gasping at how good it felt. His tongue started thrusting in and out of you as he continued rubbing circles on your clit. His lips were pushed up against yours, trying to get his tongue as deep into you as he could. You tasted salty and sweet. It was a taste he could never get tired of.
You could feel that familiar sensation building up in you and you arched your back, gasping and moaning, pulling his hair. He moaned in response, feeling your walls begin to tighten around his tongue and doing his best to maintain his rhythm with how much you were squirming. He tucked your thighs further against him to stabilize you.
The lewd noises of his moans and the wet sound of his tongue lapping into and against you pushed you further to the edge. 
“Toji, oh, oh Toji I’m gonna cum I’m gonna-”
You got cut off by your own release. Waves of pleasure wracked your body, causing you to buck your hips up in time with each one. 
Toji continued working you through your orgasm, never once disconnecting his lips or thumb, and moaning as his tongue was coated in your orgasm. 
When it was finally over you were laying there, limp and breathing hard with a layer of sweat on you. 
He finally looked up from your cunt, his chin and lips shimmering with your essence and then he licked his tongue around his mouth, all while keeping eye contact with you. You couldn’t help but blush. 
“Did you like that? Yer pussy tastes so good I could eat it every day for every meal and never get tired of it.”
You giggled, “I mean you already try almost every day so I don’t doubt if you didn’t have work that you would try for multiple times a day.”
Seeing your smile made a small one paint his own face. He kissed his way back up your body and as he came to be parallel to you, you slid your hand down to feel the thick bulge in his pants. 
He groaned at your touch, closing his eyes and putting his forehead on yours. 
After a second he gently grabbed your wrist and brought it to his mouth, lightly kissing from your wrist to the crook of your elbow, leaning over you to kiss up further to your shoulder and then your neck, sucking gently on the spot above your clavicle that caused you to tilt your head and moan. 
Your hand traveled up to hold his head as he sucked and nipped at your neck, your other hand traveling up his shirt to feel his muscled torso. His boner was pushed up against your thigh and you wanted to touch him. To give him some relief. So you trailed your hand back down his stomach, going for the waistband of his jeans before he once again grabbed your wrist and brought it to his lips, mimicking what he had just done to your other side. 
“Toji, I wanna touch you.” You pouted.
He pulled his face back to look at you, “I know sweetheart, but I want this to be about you right now. I want to focus everything I have on you. You come first. Always.” The deeper meaning behind his words was not lost on you, and your eyes softened, bringing your hand up to caress his cheek as your eyes landed on the scar on his lips. 
You trailed your fingers over his lips to trace it. You knew Toji endured a lot of trauma as a child. The fact that, despite it all, he could be so loving and tender, was amazing. 
You looked back into his vulnerable green eyes, “I love you. So much.”
His brows furrowed every so slightly, “I love you too, y/n. More than I could ever explain or even show you... But I’m trying.” And he looks at you with those pleading eyes again. 
You hold his cheek and lean in to kiss him, your lips moving to the harmony of your love. It’s slow and familiar. These lips have danced together a thousand times but still manage to leave you both breathless and lightheaded. Trying to convey with motion what you can’t with words. 
You break briefly, both panting against each other, and you’re once again squeezing your thighs together for stimulation. You wanted to feel him in you, to feel his body on yours as he moved with you. 
You look at him, “Toji.” And he can see what you want in your eyes. What you need. So he pulls back from you, allowing you to unbutton and unzip his pants as he takes off his shirt. He then helps you pull his pants off along with his boxers. His thick length springs out and your mouth waters. How badly you wanted to taste him, his tip coated in precum. But before you can bend your head down towards him, he’s pushing you back so he can hover over you, caging you in with his hardened, muscled arms. Your hair spread out on the pillow under you.
You can feel his dick resting on your mound, and then he starts moving back and forth, the friction making you moan. 
“I love you.” he says again, and you run your hands along his arms and torso before wrapping them around his neck, pulling him close to you as you simultaneously wrap your legs around his hips, “I know Toji. Now show me.”
His eyes widen slightly, and then he’s slowly pushing his tip into your entrance, causing you both to moan into each other. 
He takes it slow so you can get used to him, pushing just a little bit in at a time, each extra inch going in causing you both to moan, until he’s finally bottomed out, both of you breathing hard. 
He plants kisses all over your face, keeping himself still so you can adjust to him. He stretches you out in the best way. You feel so full, like you couldn’t possibly take any more.
He plants one more kiss on your lips before he slowly pulls out and thrust back in. You can’t help the loud groan that escapes you. This is what you’ve been wanting. His dick is so perfectly suited to hit you in all the right places and the way he moves his hips is divine. 
He does it again. And again and again until he’s built up a rhythm. In and out in and out. Slow but deep. A familiar squelching sound filling the air every time he pushes back into you. 
“Oh god Toji, oh fuck.” You moan as he continues his tender assault. 
“Yes sweetheart I know,” he breathes, “I know I know it’s so good.”
And he bends his head down to suck on your nipples again while one of his arms slips under your hips to angle you up slightly, allowing him to go deeper and hit that perfect spot that has you panting. His slow, long strokes allow you to feel every vein on his cock as they rub against your gummy walls. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through you.
You look down to watch his hips connect with yours, and when he pulls out you can see your slick glistening on his shaft. The hard muscles of his body tensing each time he pushes back in. 
He lets go of your nipple as he sees you watching, “Do I make you feel good?” he asks, moving to suck on your neck.
“Yes” you moan in response. 
“Good” he gives a shaky breath, kissing up your neck to connect back with your lips, “I love you” he says against them, thrusting in again and grunting. 
You can barely gasp out an ‘i love you too’ as you feel your high approaching. The way he’s making love to you, he’s telling you he loves you with his lips and his hips in unison. He’s going so slow but every stroke hits you in just the right spot and you can feel your body tensing. The slow build up coiling to an almost painful tension. 
“Oh, oh, mmmm Toji i’m, oh i’m gonna cum again Toji.” You cry. 
He keeps thrusting languidly into you, “Cum for me baby girl. Let me feel you.” He says, watching your face. He wants to see exactly how you look when you cum for him. 
At his words your body is wracked with its second orgrasm of the night. His thrusts slow down to an almost full stop as your pussy clamps down on him and he groans, doing his best to keep his own orgasm at bay.
You rock your hips up into him as your orgasm passes through you, nails biting into his back. You can’t help how loudly you moan, the tension finally releasing from your core and spilling all over him. You hold him tightly to you as you ride the waves of pleasure and milk his cock, crying out his name over and over the whole time. 
He has to bury his face in your neck so he can focus on not cumming but the way you’re moaning his name and spasming on his cock is testing his ability. 
When you’ve finally settled down, he pulls back from the crook of your neck to look at your fucked out face, “I love you.” he says as he plants a kiss on your cheek. But before you can respond he’s moving inside of you again, causing you to groan because you’re still feeling the lingering pleasure from your last orgasm. 
“I love you.” he says as his pace picks up again. Except he goes a bit harder this time and he bends your knees to your chest, putting you in a mating press. You let out a lewd moan at the new angle. He’s going in so deep you can feel his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. 
“You’re so beautiful y/n. I love you so much. So fucking much.” he whispers in his ear as he fucks you harder. You can hear his balls slapping against your ass, adding another sound to the symphony you were both creating. 
“Oh fuck Toji” you whine. 
“I know, baby. You take me so well. So goddamn well.” He grunts in your ear. You can barely focus your eyes, your mouth perpetually open as your breath is pushed out of you with each deep thrust. He’s bottoming out each time, using his body weight to keep your knees to your chest while his arms are on either side of you to hold himself up. Your cunt feels so full. There isn’t a single spot inside of you that his dick isn’t touching. That combined with his balls slapping against your ass have you panting again, the pleasure once again building in your core.
“Fuck Toji. Fuck, f-fuck.” you pant out as your finger nails dig into his back, trying to deal with the intense sensations and the rapid tightening as you climb towards another orgasm. 
Toji hovers over you, hips rutting against yours and watches your tits bounce with each firm thrust. You were a sight to behold. Such a beautiful woman and all his. All his to love and adore. 
“Cum for me again, y/n. Let me feel you again.” He breathes, moving to suck on your neck. After a few more deep thrusts you’re quickly cumming on him once more. Body tensing but unable to properly release the tension because of the position, causing you to just feel the full brunt of your orgasm. You start screaming his name when his lips find yours, swallowing your pleasure while your body convulses under him and he does his best to fuck you through it, moaning deeply into your mouth. Your pussy spasms around his dick, tightening and causing him to groan. The pleasure is blinding, you don’t feel anything except your orgasm as you body shakes and your pussy gushes and pulses around him. It takes a minute for you to finally come back to your senses and you realize Toji had released your legs and stopped moving inside you. 
“Did you cum?” You slur, breathless and fucked out. 
He looks at you, panting and pupils blown, “No. You told me to show you how much I love you. You think my love amounts to only a few orgasms?” And at that he lifts you up so you’re straddling his lap, dick never leaving you. 
You put your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself as he starts moving once again. 
“Tojiiii.” you whine, starting to feel overstimulated. 
“I know you have one more in you sweetheart.” He says as he takes one of your arms from around his neck and kisses and licks at your wrist. You groan because it does feel good but fuck you’re so spent already. 
“Don’t worry,” He puts your arm back over his shoulder, “Let me do everything.” And he grabs your hips in his big hands and lifts you off of him before bringing you back down. The angle with which he brings you back down causes your clit to rub against him and you moan at the spark of pleasure it ignites. Maybe you did have another one in you. 
“That’s my girl. Let me make you feel good, let me show you what you mean to me.” 
You moan at his words and lean against him, arms loosely wrapped around his neck as he fucks you onto him over and over, rubbing your clit against him each time. 
The new position isn’t as deep as the last one but the stimulation to your clit is making up for it. Your breathing is erratic and you let out quiet curses as the pleasure builds inside you.
Toji moans in your neck, feeling your tits dancing against his chest with each thrust and the fat of your ass jiggling under his hands. He won't be able to hold out this time and picks up the pace, pulling you down onto him harder and faster.
Both of you start moaning louder as you get closer to your final release. 
You’re like a ragdoll hanging against him, all you can do is moan as you begin to feel that tightness again. 
“Toji...Toji...” you moan weakly. His pace picks up even more as does his breathing, and your clit is getting even more friction now. Your body starts tensing and Toji’s moaning against your shoulder.
“Come on, y/n. One more. Mmm, y/n let me give you one more.” He grunts out. Trying to hold back. 
He moves you a few more times, sucking on that spot above your clavicle that you like and it leads to your undoing. You cling to him as you cry out, pussy spasming around his dick as you climax. The tightness along with your screams of pleasure and your body wrapped around him cause Toji to reach his high as well. 
He’s thrusting into you once, twice, three more times, cumming into you as deep as he can, whispering “I love you I love you I love you” through his whole orgasm, crushing your body against his as he holds you tight.
You both stay like that for a little bit, just holding each other and breathing hard. 
Toji catches his breath first, kissing your shoulder, “You okay?”
You couldn’t help but giggle, this man just fucked you senseless in the most tender way. You were more than okay. “Yeah.”
He pulled back, “What’s funny?” He asks with a small smile on his face. 
You look into his green eyes, “Nothing. I just love you.”
His eyes soften, “I love you too, y/n. So much.” And he kisses the inside of your arm that’s still resting on his shoulder. 
Toji starts leaning back to lay down on the bed, holding you close to his chest as he does. You lay there on him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat while he strokes your back. 
“Thank you.” Toji says quietly. 
“Huh?” You sit up slightly to look at him. You weren’t sure if you heard him correctly. 
He clears his throat, “thank you” he says a little more firmly. 
You sit up more now so you can look into his face, “Why are you thanking me?”
His hand continues to lightly stroke your back, “I wouldn’t have any of this if it wasn’t for you. This job, this home, Megumi...Everything that makes me happy is because of you.” He looks directly into your eyes as he says it, and you see how much he truly believes it. You wish Toji thought better of himself. You wish he could understand how much he meant to your family. That he could understand and see just how much Megumi and you loved him. You were thinking about how to get through to him when an idea crossed your mind.
You ran your hands up his chest and to his cheek, moving forward to kiss his scar, causing his soft cock to finally fall out of you. 
“I know you love me, Toji. And I know you love Megumi and our family and everything we’ve built together. It wasn’t all me though. You’ve grown into a man I’m proud to call my husband and become a father that Megumi adores. We love you, Toji. I love you...” You trail off briefly before meeting his eyes again, “Can I show you how much I do?” You ask, leaning forward to pepper kisses along his jaw. 
His eyes widened at your implication and he laughed, pulling you back to look at you, “How did I get so lucky?” And his lips were on yours again, dancing to the next song. 
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luna0713hunter · 6 months
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hi can you do shanks x reader where he gets jealous when he sees the reader and a crewmate get close? with a fluffy ending please 💞
(i've never requested anything before so sorry if it doesnt make sense)
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Author's note : hello darling!how are you doing? Happy Halloween!!!! I love this request so much cause I'm a huge sucker for jealousy fics lmao!!! (And ofc my dear! it's totally alright!feel free to drop by again!)
I want your eyes,only on me
Shanks x reader
Warnings : jealous Shanks,swearing,drinking,some thoughts about insecurities,age gap relationship,maybe slightly suggestive?, sprinkle of angst,and ofc,FLUFF and happy ending
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
When the cold liquid slides down Shanks' throat,he wonders if the booze is more bitter or the sight of you.
On normal occasions,or basically on daily basis,the mere sight of you is enough to make his heart swell and a warm smile bloom on his face. But right now,as he watches you laugh and giggle at a joke that the newest member of his crew had just made,the youngest member beside you,he cant help but to wonder if he can drink until he blacks out completely.
Its not the first time he's done that after all.
Shanks downs the last of his drink while throwing his head back,and clenches his teeth from the bitterness that burns his throat,and sets his now empty glass on the table with a loud BANG.
Its honestly a surprise how the glass hadn't shattered yet.
Just as he's about to complain about the lack of whiskey on his table, someone slides right beside him and pours him his comfort drink.
Shanks barely raises his head,already knowing who has come to his rescue.
"planning to black out,Cap?"
"Fuck off, Yasopp."
The red hair pirate's eyebrow twitches when Yasopp lets out his booming laughter. He drinks his entire glass in one go and squeezes his eyes shut.
That was some heavy alcohol. He would surely regret it tomorrow,but for now,its his only salvation.
"what's gotten you in such a good mood,Shanks? I'm actually worried you might overdose if you keep going like that."
Shanks doesnt turn his head away from you,but slides his empty glass toward Yasopp, silently asking for more.
His new member of the crew smiles gently at your giggling form,and offers you a sweet drink while whispering something in your ear.
Shanks feels his single arm shake as he raises the glass to his oddly dry lips and this time,takes a single sip.
He wonders when he's became so weak and soft.
But he always liked you as his only weakness. He loved to be soft for you.
"he's so young. It doesnt help that he's good kid too."
"hold on," Yasopp raises his eyebrow and drinks his own drink;his expression turning confused slightly as he eyes Shanks,you,and then his new crewmate, "are you talking about the new kid?"
"perhaps."
"what about him?"
"dont tell me you havent seen him flirting with y/n all night long. Just look how close they are." He lets out a bitter laugh,and tries to wet his lips with his even more bitter tongue. The taste disgusts him.
"they're almost the same age. I wouldn't be surprised if y/n left for him."
When Yasopp pulls the glass out of his hand,he swears he's ready to raise hell.
"ok, that's enough booze for you."
"are you asking for a fight?you know i can kick your ass,drunk or not."
Yasopp shakes his head and puts the glass far away from his reach. Shanks groans and throws his head back.
"i get that you think he's interested in y/n. But you're obviously way too drunk if you think he has such a power."
"huh?"
"to steal y/n from you,you idiot."
"i swear I'm gonna kick your as-"
"hey,are you overdoing it again?"
And if Shanks still had his glass with him,he would've smashed it on Yasopp's smug face when he heard your voice.
"actually,he is. Would you mind looking after him?"
He groans and throws his arm over his eyes, wondering if he could ask someone to help him get to the ship.
He assumes your answer was positive;since suddenly he can feel your warmth right by his side and a heavy silence falling over the both you.
And when you reach out to brush his bangs out of his face,he turns his head slightly.
"already done with your new friend?"
He watches from the corner of his eyes how your pretty lips pull down,and a small frown settles on your beautiful face.
Gods, he's such an idiot.
But he cant help it. He cant help the bitter and ugly feeling rising in his chest when he sees you talking to someone younger than him. Someone better,more handsome. Someone more close to your age. Someone he's sure you'll be more happy and comfortable with. And he swears he trusts you with all his heart,but he cant blame you if some day you up and left;when one day that actually happens.
He wouldn't stay for him too.
"Shanks, what're you talking about?"
"its nothing," he swallows and he blames it on his alcohol consumed mind, "you should go and have fun. Dont mind me."
And he expects you to do as he says. He expects you to stump away from him;to never look back and finally realizing that you're far more happy without him.
But gods above, he's such a fool.
Instead of hearing you walk away,he feels your warm, gentle hands prying his arm away from his face. With one hand,you caress the back of his rough one,and with the other,you trace his stumbles.
"Babe," your voice is so soft,that it has him swallowing around the lump in his throat, "talk to me,please?"
And how can he ever say no to you?
"i saw...how you enjoyed spending time with the new kid," he clears his throat and closes his eyes when you caress his scarred face, "i dont blame you. No one does. He's a good kid; brilliant, handsome,younger than me-"
"Ok,hold on a sec," you suddenly interrupt him;your voice bewildered as you watch him open his eyes and staring at you questioningly, "you think I'm going to leave you for him, because he's younger than you?"
Shanks blinks.
"yes?"
When you huff,Shanks opens his mouth to defend himself but you beat him to it. You rest the palm of your hands on his cheeks and pull his face closer;making sure to whisper each word against his lips.
"I thought you knew,how much i love our age gap,Cap."
Shanks' eyes draw to your lips,and when you whisper your next words teasingly,he swears he becomes drunk on your breath alone.
"i wouldn't leave you for the world;not even for the One Piece. Never forget that,Daddy."
And at that,Shanks dives for your lips.
The kiss is hungry, unlike any other kiss the two of you had shared in public. Shanks' lips taste like whiskey,a drink you've never liked,but you dont complain about it.
Just having your captain in your arms is more than enough for you.
When the kiss becomes more inappropriate for public eyes,you push slightly at Shanks' chest and giggle when you see him pout.
The red hair captain,one of the most powerful pirates in the seven seas, pouting because you refuse to kiss him more in public.
"babe, we're in public. Save that for when we get to the ship,alright?"
Shanks' groans,and to your surprise, suddenly lays down until his head is in your lap. You thread your fingers through his red locks,and giggle when he nuzzles in you further.
"dont get close to that kid,or I'm throwing him off the ship."
"for your information,he was telling me how much of a great couple you and i make,and that he looks up to you so much."
"..."
You laugh loudly and Shanks' buries his head more in your lap.
"no more word about this. You have to take care of me tomorrow too."
"i always take care of your hangovers,you big baby."
And when you press your lips to his forehead, Shanks seems to finally calm down.
"i love you."
And Shanks know it's a promise you'll never break,not in a billion years.
Not even when you're offered the One Piece on a golden plate.
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rosepascal · 1 year
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Can't Break A Promise | Joel Miller x Reader
summary: of course the one patrol you're on without Joel is the one that lands you with a knife in your side.
warnings: graphic content, mentions of blood, stab wounds, fixing a wound, getting stabbed, lots of swearing.
a/n: I love love love fics where one person gets hurt and it scares the other person so here's my addition to this trope <33
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Joel was going to kill you for sure this time. He always went on patrol with you. Always. He told Tommy that he didn't give a shit if he disrupted any damn schedule, he was going with you.
But he got hurt on the last one and he was benched. Which he absolutely despised.
He knew you were capable but that didn't stop him from wanting to protect you. So you promised him that you'd be careful. That you'd come back. It was a simple boarder patrol, no more than an hour or two and you were going to be with Tommy.
Of course the one patrol you didn't have Joel, is the one where a few asshole raiders decided to test their luck. They were easy to take down, couple of kids who could barely wield a knife. But they caught you off guard and drove a knife into your side.
"Fuck!" You hiss as you fall against a nearby tree.
You see the handle of the blade sticking out from your side and a wave of nausea overcomes you.
"Shit." Tommy rushes to your side, moving his hand to take out the knife but you stop him.
"If you pull it out, I'll bleed out before we get back." You groan as you push yourself off the tree.
He knows you're right and Tommy puts your arm around his shoulder and you start the trek back to Jackson. It felt like years. Every step shifts the blade a little forcing a whimper from your lips.
The snow runs red under you, your body on fire even as the wind starts to pick up. The wooden gates of Jackson makes you cry out in relief. It's through sheer willpower that you've managed to make it this far.
The only thing on your mind being getting back to Joel. You promised that you'd be okay and you weren't planning on breaking that.
"Almost there." Tommy says before shouting for help. You silently prayed that Joel couldn't hear them.
"Don't tell Joel please." You beg to Tommy as you see some people hurry towards you.
"Please.." Tommy's grip slips and you fall to your knees in the snow.
You feel yourself being lifted up and your head feels like its floating. The hard surface of a table hits your back and the sounds of peoples worried voice go in and out of your ears.
"I'm sorry but this is gonna hurt." Tommy grabs your hand and lets you squeeze it as someone pulls the knife from your side.
Your scream echoes through the room and you make a note to apologize to Tommy and everyone in this room after this is all over.
"Fuck!" Tears stream down your face as they pour a disinfectant into your wound. Slowly your world around you starts to fade as the pain begins to lessen.
"S'okay, you're gonna be okay." Is all you hear before the world goes black.
- - -
The darkness is sweet, comforting. No pain, nothing can hurt you. But your eyes open anyways. The first thing you notice is how comfortable the bed is beneath you and how much pain you're in. Your body screams in pain as you try and sit up.
"Don't move." A low voice says from the corner of the room. Shutting your eyes you let out a sigh, you know that voice from anywhere.
"Joel."
"Not another word." He's angry. His voice shakes as he gets up from where he was waiting.
"I waited for you to come home. Sat right here like I promised and waited." You shrink back gripping the thin blanket that you recognized as Joel's. You don't even try to interrupt him.
"I heard nothing from no one. Until my brother came back. Covered in your fuckin' blood." His eyes shine with tears as he sits on the bed beside you.
"I'm sorry Joel." You cry softly. The last thing you wanted was to make him worry.
"They came out of nowhere and I-" You're cut off by his strong arms wrapping themselves around you.
You bury your face into his shoulder, ignoring the pain growing in your side.
"I promised I'd come home." You say and he squeezes you a little tighter.
"I know baby." He won't tell you how terrified he truly was.
Watching the sun go down and you were no where to be found. Pacing back and forth as he waited for that door to open. The way his heart stopped when Tommy came walking in with his arms covered in blood. The apologies that he didn't hear as his brain went to the worst possible outcome. He couldn't lose you.
Nothing could stop him when he stormed over to the medics house. His stomach turning as he notices the blood stains on the floor. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful.
But nothing was more beautiful than seeing the steady rise and fall of your chest. You were alive. He carried you all the way back home and sat and waited. He couldn't sleep. So he just sat there.
"I kept thinking of you," You pull back and cup his face.
"I wouldn't break my promise." He gently shushes you as your breathing starts to pick up. Joel's lost so many people and you almost became one of them.
"Don't work yourself up, you'll rip out your stitching." He helps you lay back, putting a pillow behind your head for comfort.
"Stay with me?" You ask with pleading eyes.
"I don't plan on letting you outta my sight." He says as gets comfortable next to you.
Despite your protests he won't lay down. But he'll sit and watch over you. You know there's nothing you need to be protected from here but you let him anyways.
"Sleep tight baby, I'll be here. I promise."
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fastcardotmp3 · 11 months
Text
I'm not usually the audience for most kid fic content HOWEVER the idea of Eddie falling into a circumstance where he becomes the Uncle Wayne to some other kid who has nowhere else to go has me by the throat today
like. circular narratives.... hear me out....
maybe Eddie did have a sibling, a sister ten years older than him who was out of the house and as far away as she could manage before he even ended up in Hawkins with Wayne. maybe he and his sister didn't keep in touch because by the time she had her footing in the world well enough to come back and see him, Eddie was long gone already.
maybe she ends up in worse situations than he does by nature of not having a Wayne of her own to teach her what it feels like to have someone stick around for you and maybe one of those situations is ending up with a kid she's not equipped to take care of, no matter how much she tries.
she needs help, needs backup, needs someone to take this 10-year-old in and give her safety while her mother gets healthy and tries to learn what it means to be stable.
And hey, listen, Eddie Munson is 27 at this point, he's had seven years to heal from the bullshit Hawkins put him through and he's still working hard every day to keep that momentum going, but a child?
he's not a father, not an uncle, take her to Wayne for fuck's sake, he begs of his sister even though he knows deep down he doesn't mean it, not when Wayne has finally retired, finally has some stability of his own.
what other option do I have? I need you, Ed, is begged of him in return, and he hears her, he does, but what does he have to offer in this situation?
he's a mechanic with PTSD and a one-bedroom in Bloomington who's been pining for his best friend the former jock-turned-part time student for the past two years.
he's a wreck and a half who has nothing but lateral moves to make in his future and has to set three different alarm clocks to wake himself up in time for work every morning and he's just-- Eddie. That's all he is. That's all he has to offer.
It can't possibly be enough.
What's her name? he asks despite himself, out here on the sidewalk in front of his place of work where he'd been ambushed, where he knows Steve will be pulling into the spot across the street to pick him up any minute.
Naomi, is the answer, and she will be, even if Eddie doesn't see it yet.
There's no part of Eddie Munson which has ever dreamed of trips to the park and helping with homework and drives to the mall to buy presents for birthday parties.
There's no part of him which has ever sought out parenthood to anything other than the stray cat who likes to beg for treats at his back door.
There's no part of him which is built for this, Eddie knows, as he sees the familiar shape of a familiar car parking across the street and idling.
Naomi, he breathes anyway, looks down at the photograph being pressed into his hand, the untamed curls and missing front teeth.
She's sitting on the front steps of a trailer, sun shining down on her and pinking up the bridge of her nose and it's him for a moment. It's him, loved unequivocally by a guy who never planned to have kids, never wanted them, and loved Eddie with everything he had to offer despite it.
It's him, the little boy that still lives in Eddie's chest, just asking not to be forgotten.
You're all she's got right now, Eddie.
Well, shit.
He's gonna need to put a call into Wayne, isn't he?
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sarahowritesostucky · 1 month
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Happy Little Family
📖"A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like her Mommy"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4407
Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic
Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.
This chapter: Bucky shows up unannounced at your cottage, shattering the peaceful life you thought you'd reclaimed for yourself and your daughter. He's reclaiming what's his, and he isn't planning on accepting a "no."
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Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one"
1. A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat, Just like her Mommy
"And then the knight took the princess away to his castle, and they lived happily ever after."
You're just outside the nursery when you hear his voice, and ice cold fear instantly floods your chest. You drop the laundry basket and run into the room, and there he is: seated in the chair you nurse from, reading one of the antique fairytale books that your mom gave at the shower, holding your baby. 
"James," you breathe, horrified. He's been smiling down at June, but now his face smooths out as he looks up at you. He isn't frowning or glaring, but you know him, and there's a storm behind those eyes that makes dread curl heavy in your stomach. "Hi Doll," he says quietly. "It's good to see you again."
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Your heart pounds in your chest. You feel sick. One wrong move and who knows what he'll do. You take a cautious step forward, eyes searching James' body and anywhere nearby for a gun. You don't see one. You take another step. "James," you warn,
June makes a happy gurgle at seeing you, and James coos down at her, "Aw, yeah Sweetie. I'm happy to see Mommy too."
Mommy. Hearing that word come out of his mouth, in a setting like this, is a nightmare you've woken from more than once. You lick your lips and hold out your arms, pleading, "Please give her to me."
He acts like he hasn't even heard you, smiling and tapping June's body with one finger. "We were just reading a story. Little lady is gonna be a big reader one day, I bet. Gonna grow up to be real smart." His gaze slides back to you, with what you interpret as a world-of-hurt-coming-your-way look glimmering in his eyes. "A clever, tricky little kitty cat. Just like her Mommy."
A whimper escapes you, unbidden. 
June starts squirming in his lap, eager to get to you. When he doesn’t hand her over, she starts to fuss. He coos at her and bounces her in his arms to calm her, kisses the top of her head while keeping his somber, reproachful eyes on you. “You left your door unlocked,” he says. “She was alone.”
She’d been down for her nap when you went downstairs and popped across the street to visit with Hilde, your one friend in the world. It’s so common for mothers to do, in this tiny, Nordic village you’ve settled in. It’s the culture here. It’s supposed to be safe. You swallow thickly, eyes flitting around to try and think of what to do. You think of your gun, so far away. You’d talked yourself out of keeping it tucked behind your bed, so now the only weapon you own is down in the kitchen. But maybe … maybe if you can get him away from June … 
“You should be more careful, Little thief. You never know who might break in and take everything you love.”
“The only thing we had to guard against here was you,” you hiss. “And I’m not fool enough to think a locked door would keep you out.”
“You’re damned right it wouldn’t.” He tosses the storybook aside like trash and stands up with June in his arms. “But you are a fool if you thought there was anywhere in the world you could go where I wouldn’t find you.”
You flinch forward compulsively, unable to think of your own safety over your baby’s. “Please, James,” you beg. “Please. Just give her to me.” 
“Oh no, Dollface,” he purrs, voice deceptively soft. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and you aren’t gonna want her in the room when it happens.” His hands tighten threateningly on June’s little body. “Whose baby is this?”
You blanch. “Don’t hurt her.” 
“Aw. You don’t want me to hurt her?” 
“No, please!” The sob that’s been working its way up in your throat finally breaks. It’s killing you not to rush forward and snatch her from his arms. “Please, I'll do anything.”
“Is that so?” He stares at you long and hard. The few seconds of silence are torturous as he holds your daughter away from you. 
James is one of the deadliest people you’ve ever met, and he’s capable of horrendous violence, but he wouldn’t hurt a baby, that much you do know. What you have to worry about most right now isn’t him physically hurting her; it’s him wanting her, whisking her away right alongside you, when he inevitably takes you from this place. There’s nothing you can do to prevent your own fate, but if there’s anything you can do to keep him from getting his hands on June, you’ll do it. Your eyes flit around the nursery frantically, its pale, dream-like decorations taunting you as you try to think of what to do. It feels surreal to have a man like James standing in this room, feels wrong.
Your heart leaps when he suddenly moves, but he’s only turning to walk over to the crib, bending and placing June in it with a surprising amount of care. Something painful lances in your chest at seeing him handle her so gently, but when he turns back around to you, all of that gentleness is gone. “Come on,” he snaps. “To the other bedroom.” 
You hesitate, not wanting to leave your daughter alone, but he stalks forward and grabs your upper arm, herding you out of the nursery and down the hallway. In your bedroom, he pushes you onto the bed. You land in a heap and scramble to prop back up on your hands, trying to swipe the hair out of your face.
“Whose baby is that?” he demands. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”
His Voice. God. After almost a year and a half it should be lessened. The pull you feel when you hear it has no right to tug at you the way it does. You’re not even mated, which makes it all the more insulting. It gets in through your ears and spreads throughout your body, like an invasive plant, growing and sinking its roots into you and tug, tug tugging on your will: Whose baby is that.
You fight the awful urge to tell him, as you rapidly, fearfully weigh your options. It’s hard to think when you’re so frightened, so taken aback. Most people might think it wise to admit the truth, but you know this man, this alpha, and you know he’ll never let her go if he knows that she’s his. Anything, you think. You have to do anything you can to keep her from that life, that world. 
Heart in your throat, you insist, “Noone.”
“Noone?” His visage darkens. “Artificial insemination, then? I know they’re progressive and all up here, but don’t take me for a fool, mamochka.”
“It was just some guy! Just a one night stand, I swear!”
He surges in, gets one knee up on the bed and pushes you onto your back when you try to get up, leaning over you and holding you down by your shoulders. “So you did let another man fuck you,” he growls.
You jut your chin out and hiss, “Yes.” (Lying Rule #1: deliver your bullshit with confidence).
“Who? Was he alpha?”
“Why do you care? It was one night in Oslo.” (Rule #2: add in one or two unimportant details.)
“What’s. his. name?” 
A bitter sound escapes you (Rule #3: attach honest emotion to it, if you can). “I don’t know his name. I never did. I was just racking up a roster, just wanted to get laid after getting away from you.”
He bares his teeth at you in a snarl, furious, and shoves you harder against the mattress. You cry out and try to hit him, but he catches your wrists and holds them down to the bed easily, shoving you again, one of his powerful thighs pressed up between yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, getting in your face, lying on top of you. “Noone else’s. Not ever.”
You whimper and nod, shaken and keenly aware of his body on top of yours, his strength. James is a massive hulk of an alpha, capable of overpowering you in any situation, and even through your frantic thoughts, you know you’ll never be able to get away from him in close contact like this. He’s so angry, his scent gone thick and choking. You’re too panicked to plan out what it is you’re going to say next, you just wind up instinctively trying to placate him, blurting out, “What do you want?”
He leers down at you. “I want what’s mine. What’s always been mine.” On your wrists, his fingers tighten cruelly. “You’ve had your fun now, and gotten away with it for too damn long. You’re coming home with me, Little thief.”
You gasp as the pressure on your wrists increases painfully, mind flying to that cold, Siberian fortress and the life that awaits you there. You might be able to get away from him before then, but you might not, and you can’t risk June being trapped there as well. “Okay, okay! I’ll go with you, I will. Wherever you want. Just … Please let me give her to the neighbor. Please.”
He smiles nastily down at you. “Oh, you don’t want her to come along? Another man’s pup?”
Tears press at the backs of your eyes at the thought of leaving your daughter behind, but you shake your head. “Please. Just take her over to the woman across the street. She’ll look after her. Please James, she's my daughter. I won’t fight you if you leave her there. She’s nothing to you. Just let her stay where it’s safe.” 
Something in his expression shifts, but you don’t have time to figure out what the emotion might be, before he shutters again. He leans down and purrs, “Oh, I don’t know, vorishka [little thief]. You stole some very valuable things from me. And since I don’t see any fucking Picassos hanging in this hovel you call a house, I assume they’re in the wind.”
It wasn’t as though you’d simply been able to run away. Escaping had required finances, techniques, firms of dangerous men hired to plant false leads, erase tracks, ferret you away into oblivion, and then move halfway across the globe and buy yourself a new identity. The bribes alone had eaten up most of the money. You shudder in his grip, knowing that the paintings wouldn’t save you, even if you did have them. “They’re gone.” 
“I know they’re gone, Little thief.” He shoves his thigh down against you. “So how are you gonna make it up to me?”
You whimper. “I can’t,” you plead. “James. I don’t have anything.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I can think of a few ways you can start repaying your debt.” He runs one hand down your side, groping your waist as he breathes softly against your ear: “For instance, do you have any idea what she’d be worth on the black market?”
It takes you a split second to figure out what he means, and your heart seizes in terror as soon as you do. You know James is involved in every type of shady, illegal dealing there is in the world, but you’d never even considered the idea of human trafficking. Now that he’s said it, you panic that you’ve made a huge mistake by lying that the baby isn’t his. “James,” you whisper, horrified. “Alpha, please.”
“Oh, it’s Alpha, now, is it?” He chuckles meanly, the sound making your stomach churn. You’re about to say something else, beg in some other, pitiful way, tell him he’s June’s father, but instead you cry out as his hand fists in your hair and yanks your head to the side. His breath hits hot against your skin and he drags his nose up the side of your neck, scenting you. “Mmm,” he hums darkly, pleased. “You spread your legs for another man, but you didn’t let anyone in here.”
You squeak when his teeth scrape over your still-unmarked glands. “No!” you gasp, just as much an answer as it is a plea for nim not to bite you. “I didn’t, I didn’—”
“Shut up,” he snaps, closing his teeth down on the spot. You whine as he pulls your hair and slowly increases the pressure of his bite, threatening to break the skin. Horrified, you feel your body responding with arousal, heat blooming deep in your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, and sure enough few seconds later James is inhaling deeply and chuckling. “Oh, kotenok [kitten]. Still the same as ever, huh?” He shifts, hand slipping down between your legs and cupping you from over the fabric of your dress. “Ripe for your Alpha’s touch, even after all this time. How sweet.” Humiliated rage bubbles up inside of you and you glare up at him. He’s looking down fondly at you, eyes heated and lip drawn into his mouth. He lets it slide back out between his teeth and murmurs, “It’s okay, you know. It’s everything to me, omegechka [little omega], the way you respond. It’s only natural.” You growl angrily, but he just hums and tugs your hair again, other hand molding to your mound and rubbing. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, when you cry out louder. “Don’t want to scare the whelp, do you?” 
You freeze, listening to try and hear June. She’s whining from over in her room,  not understanding why she’s been left alone when she can hear her mommy’s voice just down the hall. “Please,” you whisper, locking eyes with James again. “Please. Let me go to her.”
He grinds the heel of his hand against you. “I told you, Dollface. You don’t want her here for this.”
He kisses you on the mouth, chaste and lingering; so gentle that for a split second it makes you ache for what you once had with him. James always was very good at making love to you, at lavishing you with a softness and a tenderness even in the darkest of times. But now you can only shiver underneath his weight, because you know that’s not what’s about to happen. 
“Seventeen months, moya omegya,”  he rumbles quietly, lips brushing yours with the words. “My bed suddenly cold, not knowing if you were alive or dead. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
His tone of voice is so intimately familiar that it makes your heart clench, bringing back memories of a life you’ve fought so hard to put behind you. “Please,” you whisper. “Don’t do this.”
He tuts and shakes his head softly, as if he’s actually remorseful. “How this goes depends entirely on you. I want you to know that.” He hasn’t stopped working his hand against you, rubbing his palm against your clit and smiling at how you shudder beneath him and your body betrays you. You watch his nostrils flare as he smells the reaction he’s pulling from you against your will. “Sweet girl,” he coos. “You just can’t help it, can you?” You toss your head and screw your eyes shut, but he’s having none of it. He yanks your hair and hisses at you to open your eyes. “No,” he warns, once he’s got your attention. He moves back, getting up onto his knees and shrugging off his jacket. “You’re going to watch. The whole time.” His hands land on his belt, the buckle clinking as he opens it and undoes his pants. “I want to look right in your eyes while I take back what’s mine.” He shoves his pants down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, already hard and wet at the tip. A part of him that’s been inside you hundreds of times, probably. Something you’ve craved and debased yourself for. 
Seeing it reignites your shame, but it’s the way you feel your cunt pulse and release a fresh wave of slick, that really makes you start resisting again. “Nnh!”
“Ah ah ah, Dollface. That’s not gonna work.”
“Nugh! Lemmo go!”  
You fight, of course you do, but it’s almost worse that way, as it only points out how comically mismatched you are to him. He laughs at you and holds down your thrashing body, barely even grunting from the effort of subduing you. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, chuckling breathily as he forces you down with one hand and strokes himself with the other. “I have to tell you, kotenok. I’ve been looking forward to this.” 
“I hate you!” You manage to get a hand free and you flail, hitting and clawing at him. He inhales sharply as your nails scratch his face. He knocks your hand away with a surprised hiss and, wide eyed, touches the spot where a tiny line of red is welling up on his cheek. The next thing you know, he’s backhanding you, sending spots into your vision and knocking you out of your senses for a few seconds. Your ears ring and you blink, stunned.
His hand appears at your throat, squeezing, pressing up against the arteries. You briefly grapple with him, grabbing his forearm and fighting, but then his thumb notches into place and digs into your glands. Your cries taper off and you go limp with a pathetic, mewling whimper. “Nnnh …”
He leers down at you, adjusting his grip, still jerking his cock as he subdues you with the Hold. “Weak,” he says. “But that’s just how I like you.”
His thumb rubs in circles, sending a rush of liquid gold through your veins. It worsens the situation between your legs, and you can’t hide that any more than you can hide the humiliated tears that prick to your eyes as he shoves your dress up and rips your underwear straight off of you. He coos when he looks down and sees how wet you are. “Oh, omegechka.” He knees your legs further apart and drags his cockhead through your folds. “And this is you hating me?”
You shake with a silent sob, despising him with your whole being, hating yourself for reacting this way. Before James, you’d never met a man who coveted your omega nature so much, hadn’t known what it was to need an alpha that way, to have your body need him. And to think: you used to like it.
He lines himself up and sinks inside of you in one, unyielding push, forcing you to open to him, carving out his space inside of you. You cry out at the force of it, body clamping down hard and the delicate skin at your entrance stinging from the stretch, but he doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated. “Fuck,” he groans, grinding in deep, his pubic bone pressing against your clit, laughing darkly when it makes you squeal. “Oh, you sensitive?” He does it again, and again, doesn’t stop until he gets a high pitched, warbling moan from you. “Theere she is.” He digs his thumb in harder against your glands and stares right in your eyes as he watches the effect it has on you, soaking up the flush in your face and the furious tears welling at the corners of your eyes. “I know, Sweetheart, I know,” he murmurs. “You really can’t help it, can you?” You whimper and he nods along in mock sympathy. “Poor little thing. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to need it that bad.” 
“James,”
He pulls out halfway and shoves back in, hard, rumbling in pleasure when it elicits another yelp from you. His other hand grabs at your waist, fingers digging into the soft give of your body. He hums dirtily. “I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. You look good for having just pushed out that pup. You look healthy.” You whine in protest and he fucks in hard again, baring his teeth in a mean smile. “Yeah, momma, you heard me.” He pulls out, thrusts back in. 
“Ss-stop.”
He laughs. “Don’t be like that, krasotka [Pretty(n.)]. I like it. You always were too skinny for my taste.” He runs his hand from your waist up to the top of your dress, yanking it down along with the cup of your bra, and groaning when your swollen breast spills out. You squeal in rage as he curses quietly, eyes going molten and unfocused. “Fuck, Honey, look at you.”
You start thrashing again hard, trying to hit him, but you only get a glancing blow to the side of his head before he refixes his hand on your throat and clamps down in another Hold. He gives you a firm shake. “Settle down. I told you: I like it..”
“Nnn, fuck you!” You spit on him, but he only laughs and wipes it away, leering down at you and continuing gleefully,
“Shouldn’t be skinny like some damn underwear model. Mm mn, naw. Now you’re nice and soft, just like you should be. Somethin’ for Alpha to grab onto. Bitty waist and a fat ass.” He grabs your waist again and pulls you down into the next roll of his hips, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars burst in your vision.
“Ah!” 
“Mmhm. Right there baby? Yeah, thaat’s the spot. I remember.” He’s panting open-mouthed, breathless as he taunts you, “I remember everything. What you like. How you feel. The sounds you make. Fuck.”  He shoves into you hard and holds there, his licked-red lips curling up wickedly. “Your cunt’s fluttering around me, Sweetheart. Clamping down so fucking hard.” 
“Nnh!”
He laughs, but his smile slackens as his own pleasure continues to build. He angles back and looks down your body, stares at where his cock is disappearing inside of you with lewd, wet sounds. “Shit, momma. And this pussy snapped back real good, didn’t it?” 
You cry out angrily, but it’s what he wants: to see you aroused and humiliated and furious at him. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming against you hard on the end of each, brutal thrust; his open belt and the zip of his fly digging into your ass every time he grinds inside. “You haven't been fucking anybody,” he says smugly. “How long’s it really been, mamochka? Hm? How long since another man was in this cunt?”
You moan miserably, his cock driving hard against your walls, too rough but not painful enough to keep it from feeling good. James is big, has an alpha’s cock, and it’s never been a physical possibility for him to be inside of you and not rub against every spot that makes your body light up in pleasure. You shake your head and try to close your eyes, but he pushes his hand up harder underneath your jaw, shaking you. “Uh uh. Look at me.” 
You can’t fight off the command of his Voice, not when he’s already dominating you so completely. Your eyes open against your will, full of tears, and he rumbles in satisfaction. 
“Better.”
Every whimper and mewl you make drives him on, stoking the angry satisfaction that’s burning in his eyes—eyes that you can’t look away from as you cry out again and again, little “Ah, ah, ah's” that interrupt the cadence of your skin slapping together, all of his eager growls and satisfied grunts.
“That’s it, shlyukha,” he pants, hips snapping in hard, again and again. “You—ugh—you let Alpha know how good that feels. Don’t hold it back from me.” His breathing is getting heavier the closer he gets, his composure and even his anger losing some of their hold as he fucks you harder, sinks down on you farther, covers you with his body fully as he ruts into you in pursuit of his climax. “Shit,”  he hisses not far from your ear, face stuffed in your neck. 
You keen high in your throat at his proximity to your bonding glands—a plaintive sound that directly contradicts the panicked ‘no!’ that flashes in your brain. His hand leaves the front of your neck and scoops around behind instead, gripping you at the nape in a Scruff that feels just as toe-curlingly right as the Hold had. 
For a very split second, his breath hitches and his growling trips into a needy whimper. “O-oh …” And that’s when you feel it: his knot starting to catch on the end of each thrust.
“Ah!” You cry out sharply and grab onto him, helpless to keep your body from seeking out more, from clinging to him and clamping down hard as his knot grows and triggers you into orgasm. “Hhgnn …”
He goes feral when he feels your body locking down on him, growling and shoving in and grinding to ensure that he catches inside and ties you together. His hand abandons your neck entirely as he gives in to the instinct to rut, both arms wrapping around your waist, scooping under your back and holding you still for him to fuck furiously against. The tug of his knot inside your cunt makes you sob and come harder, losing sense of yourself as the pleasure cuts through you like a knife. 
“Fuck, fuck, ohhfuck …” The sound of his deep voice, so lost in the desperation and helplessness of his own pleasure, makes your belly flare hot with new arousal even as you’re coming down the other side of it. You gasp and pant, and eventually whimper as the bliss dissipates and you become more aware of him on top of you, grunting and groaning and fucking into your tie as he rides out the long, debilitating climax of an alpha.
You keep your eyes closed and cry, hating that it still feels good as he fucks into you, grinds down on your clit and gives your another orgasm, and another. You wait for him to finish as your brain fills with the high that comes after, that unavoidable pink cloud that you know is going to seal your fate and make you helpless to him for the next thirty minutes, at least. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head in the direction of the pillows. 
As the high starts to take you, you think about how, if you’d just kept your gun holstered behind by the headboard like you’d planned, you could be blowing his brains out right about now.
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A.N.: Soooo ... This is the rape-iest thing I've ever ever written. I hope y'all are okay. Just wanted to drop a note to let you know that this fic WILL lighten up and not be quite so, well, rapey, in the future. Thanks for reading! 💖Sarah
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jamiesfootball · 20 days
Text
Word Game Wednesday:
Alive
Low and somber but with a voice light enough to sit on a feather, Jan informs Jamie, "I respect you, but you did not owe him the decency of being buried. Please do not think you owe him anything else just because you are still alive with more to give. You have given enough."
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antimony-medusa · 7 months
Note
Gonna be honest with you though if someone outright says “don’t ship my character with other people” or something to that extent regarding smut or whatever I don’t think there should be any ambiguity
I get your point about the nature of fanfic being inherently encroaching upon people’s images so that levity should be extended to otherwise uncommon avenues but I really believe hardline boundaries should be respected, end of, no discussion. If I see people violating creators’ boundaries for their characters Or themselves (and these can be intertwined, it’s not up to the audience to pick apart their boundaries, cuz I’ve seen people try to do that) I’m not going to judge them fairly and I feel like neither should you.
Lines can be crossed and intimacy (not even necessarily romantic!) is a very different monster than the other avenues of storytelling because of how it involves real life relationships seeping into character relationships. Its’s uncommon for people to be like “I wrote A’s character being tortured because I feel like A is tortured in real life” but they Can and Often do that with ship work. So I don’t know, I feel like you’re not affording this the right nuance.
Alright, so, this is another post I'm gonna slap with a discourse and long post warning right away, buckle in.
Yeah, I hear what you're saying, and this is not an uncommon opinion to have! It's still the opinion of twitter/x so far as I know, and I think it's probably the opinion of the bulk of dsmp fans here, as well. I know my posts get notes once they start circulating in hermitblr, but I don't kid myself that I have the majority view. I am posting to explain my views expressly because I know a lot of people don't agree with me!
And in this case we do have a difference of opinion. There's two sort of points as I see it in your posts— we have hardline boundaries about shipping/nsfw from some people, and everyone in the fandom should be abiding by those no exceptions or be thrown out of the fandom; and we have shipping boundaries but not boundaries for other things because shipping is uniquely boundary-crossing and terrible and invasive, in contrast to anything else we can do in fandom.
Taking the second part first, I just don't think that's true. Let's not forget, boundaries discourse started with SMPLive and SMPronpa, and it was not the shipping that caused the discussion, it was the death games. The first real fandom reckoning we had with the notion of boundaries as mcyt fandom was over gore and murder and portraying people in violent ways. Shipping was barely a blip on the radar. The way the discourse has developed now, shipping is framed as the absolute worst thing anyone could ever do with your public image, and everything else is fine, but that is not the case for everyone. Recently the Pirates SMP creators were asked repeatedly for their boundaries (bothered on twitter, really) until they gave them and thus we saw people being fine with shipping but not wanting family dynamic, or being against both shipping and gore, or being fine with shipping but not wanting to be gender bent or trans headcanoned, etc. Not everyone feels the same way about the same things, despite the us-american cultural viewpoint that romance and sexualization is uniquely bad but gore and torture is fine, that everything else is fine.
Like, if we're looking at DSMP, I think there are a lot of creators who would feel just as strongly if not stronger about fics in which their character died of a terminal illness than they would about a fic in which they kiss someone, for understandable reasons. But I see those tropes in the tags regularly!
I think if we are honest with ourselves, if we are going to hardline boundaries about things that are uniquely invasive or bad to do to a creator's character with the view that we are putting all of this up for the creator's approval, we need to accept that this excludes us from writing anything where a character is abusive or is tortured or dies of a terminal illness or is psychologically broken or is age regressed or is neurodivergent or is queer if the cc is straight or trans if the cc is cis or cis if the cc is trans or straight if they're gay— the list of things that would be weird to do in the face of the real guy is really long. And it has most of our favourite tropes on it!
I love writing autistic philza. It would be really fuckin' weird to go up to Philza and tell him about how I write his character as whumped and autistic. Come on now. (But that's within boundaries, so that's— fine? I really don't think it's fine!)
Which is why my stance is that we should be thinking critically about these things, and keeping the fandom seperate from the creators. Some of these things are just not for the creators. They're fine but they shouldn't go on twitter. Y'know?
The idea that shipping draws uniquely on the real person and leads to invasive behaviour but nothing else does— that nobody does "I wrote A being tortured because I think A is tortured in real life"— Look. I have been in the fandom a long time. I remember how all the abused tommy narratives fed right into people assuming his family in real life were abusive— and talking about this on twitter! Where he and his family could see! People did this with WIlbur and Techno too!
I remember people reading about trans tommy and then truthing that the creator either was transmasc or was going to come out as transfemme any day now, publically, on twitter and in his chat. I have seen people she/her tubbo to his face on twitter, with fancams. I have been in chat when people who have clearly assigned Phil "dad" start asking WILDLY invasive things in TTS. If you think that shipping is the only fandom behaviour that can lead to people drawing directly from the streamers for their work and treating the creators weirdly about it, you simply have not been paying attention.
The way the fandom insists on treating benchtrio as children despite the fact that they're almost twenty and viciously attacking their friends for treating them as adults and chiding tommy and tubbo and ranboo for inappropriate behaviour. The list goes ON.
So. The recieved DSMP wisdom is that we should TTS the streamers to check if it's okay if we write a fic in which they die of cancer. We should DM them on instagram to ask if it's okay if we write them as a gender or sexual identity they don't share. We should show up in their twitter mentions to ask if it's okay if we write them as a physically abusive parent.
No????????
My view on that is that it is frankly bizzare it is that we have decided that "asking creators for detailed instructions regarding porn or gore" (especially in TTS! When they're fucking at WORK and can't step away! Stop doing this to the hermits!) is normal and fine and responsible but "post your shit in appropriate places and leave the creators out of it" will make you a monster.
Once again, the experience of someone coming up and saying "i think of you as age regressed" and someone saying "i found this fic where you're age regressed" and someone saying "can I write a fic where you're age regressed" is not that different. In all cases you know that the person has been thinking about it and putting it out there, and in all cases you didnt seek out this information, it was brought to you. In all cases it's weird. Just do not bring this information up to them!
If you just think about it for a while, you see that there is an entire host of things that would be weird to force into the view of a creator, especially when you consider that half the time we got these clips from TTS information when we have no idea if the person answering knew the context of what they were being asked, if they were specifically aware of the creator/cc divide that the fandom works with, or if they felt pressured into it. Oh yeah, let's take a TTS clip from Tubbo when it was 2 in the morning for him and he was deep in a minecraft mod when someone asked him about alters and delusions and he was like "oh you mean like— when they can't help it? I guess that's fine." That definately counts as freely given, reversible, informed, enthusiastic and specific consent to show him anything we want at all times forever. That's never going to make him uncomfortable.
Think a little here.
So I think there's a lot of the fandom that we should not be putting up for the approval of the creators, and if we don't have a firm answer on if they would like potential edge cases, we should probably be thinking about it and keeping it away from them (and I would err on the side of caution), we should NOT be showing up in the TTS to ask them about narratives in which they're institutionalized, or making them a GOP conservative in fiction, or if Wilbur was canon about seeing them as a bottom, or whatever bizzare thing someone is cooking up now. Honestly if you think to yourself "I don't know if the creator would like seeing this", I would be much more comfortable if the two choices we were picking between there were "simply don't write it" or "write it but keep it away from them", and "harass the creator for an answer on this subject and only write it if they say yes" never entered the equation at all.
And to return to your first point, if we already have a class of fiction that we are keeping away from the creators because basic intellectual curiosity would show that it would be weird to show someone, I don't think it's the end of the world to go "okay, creator doesn't like NSFW, so we also keep the NSFW away from them, keep this shit off twitter, block them if you create it, don't show it to them" and then we archive lock it and continue on our little weirdo on the internet ways.
Now, I don't expect to convince you of this, the phrasing of your post does not indicate that you're open to discussion on this topic. That's fine. Nobody has to agree with me. But I grew up conservative christian, and I have already had people try and get me to throw people out of the community for their perceived sins where I was like "well, I really don't think this is that bad", and I'm really resistant to being forced to do that again. I don't think it's a healthy way to run a fandom, to be shunning people for what they're doing in fiction. Harassing creators in chat? Sure, I will block them from my events as untrustworthy. That's hurting someone in the real world. Writing something that I don't vibe with privately on the archive for an audience of 50 people? That is not doing harm to real people. As long as they're not showing it to the creators, I don't count that as offensive.
How's that for nuance.
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bratphilia · 6 months
Note
would it be a bother to ask for a fic w a tomboy reader and william afton? ive been on such a kick w william afton x reader fics here since i watched the movie and i love all of them but i am not feminine in the slightest so if you could write one id be so grateful!! and age gap and size difference too would also be sooo 👌👌👌. thank you so much!!!
note ✧.*‎ this was a lil hard for me to write considering im on the girly-er side so if anything looks weird in relation to the premise i apologize in advance!! also so sorry for getting this out a lil later than promised.
pairing ✧.*‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader
cw ✧.*‎ age difference (reader is 18-21, william is 45-50), degrading, spanking, approximately two slaps to the face, blow jobs, rubbing through jeans? idk what to call that, coming in pants (fem)
taglist ✧.*‎ @dilfity
synopsis ✧.*‎ while attending yet another meeting with your career counsellor, he has a few choice of words for you.
jeans (w. afton x reader)
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you sit in mr. raglan's office, trying to sit straight up, legs crossed, not bouncing. he slightly shifts in his chair as he reads your file, moving his spinning chair from side to side, as he mentally scrutinizes your report. it's nerve-wracking. anyone in your shoes would feel this way, but the way he's intently reading over every little detail makes you squirm.
the worst part is, this isn't even the first time you've been in this exact position. it wouldn't be so bad if mr. raglan wasn't such a hard ass on you. always practically demanding answers of why you keep getting let go from the jobs he gives you, criticizing the tiniest details. nothing gets passed this guy, and yet here you are.
(there's something that almost riles you up about the way he talks to you, though. he has a habit of talking with those big hands of his in a way that makes your insides twist.)
"so you sit here in front of me..." he pipes up suddenly, looking at you then lifting a brow, "wearing jeans to a meeting, for christ sake, asking for yet another job, so what? you can get 'let go' again?"
"well, yes," you say, a little dumbstruck at his comment on your attire.
mr. raglan laughs shortly. "i got news for you, kid. people with your kinda track record don't exactly find jobs as easy as you think they do."
you hold back from rolling your eyes. your fists clench at your side angrily. you speak through gritted teeth, "look, i just need a job. i'll take anything, i'm desperate."
"hate to break it to you, but things just don't work like that—"
you've had it. "will you just stop being such an asshole and give me my damn options already?! i didn't come here to be lectured."
you're seething, breathless from your outburst. your heart is pounding but nothing can beat the jaw-slacked look on his face. there's a deafening silence that has you on the edge of your seat. then, shortly, "you come here for advice, and i'm giving it to you."
you want to say something again, you open your mouth to do so, but he raises a hand to silence you promptly. "you said you're desperate, hm? want my real, useful advice?"
you stare at him, not liking the direction of this conversation or his weirdly tone of dripping malice. "get the fuck on your knees then."
it's hot, you'll admit it. and he's the whole package too, total dad-i'd-like-to-fuck and all. this isn't your type of deal, but if he's gonna offer it to you, fuck it, you'll take it. you'll take everything this man gives you. "mr. raglan—" you say, purposefully furrowing your brows, trying to act scandalized for godsake—
"get your ass over here," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.
you shut up, perking up at that, and make way to the open space between his legs. "look at you, you degenerate thing. on your knees for such a cause."
your head swims and the buzzing between your thighs becomes far too apparent to be ignored. but you're willing to wait for that relief. you part your lips expectantly, hoping he'd get the message to undo his pants and he just laughs at you. "filthy fucking thing wants my cock in her mouth so bad."
"uh-huh," you say, mouth still open.
he does away with all the restraints and guides his cock into your mouth. eagerly, you take him and lick up the underside of his dick, eliciting a groan from him. he makes a fist around your hair and guides your mouth up and down his cock, not caring about what you can and can't take and you fucking love it.
the noises of him hitting your gag reflex is music to the mouth of your ears. the way you push him out only for him to slide back in is truly a marvel. and the grunts, groaning, and degradations that come from him makes you want to take him even faster, more than what your body can handle, and he just laughs it off, commenting on much of an "eager, filthy thing" you are.
when you feel his helping hands thrust your mouth more erratically is when he decides to pull you off. he uses your hair to stand you up and practically shove you against the desk, back facing towards him. you yelp in pain, only adding to the ache in your stomach. he stands to his full height and you gulp. fuck, he's so much bigger than you, of course he can just throw you around like that. when you ask him if you should remove your clothes, he pauses for a moment, thinking. then, mischievously, "no, i want to make good use of those jeans."
curiously, you look back at him, but his fingers are pressing against your clothed pussy. he presses hard, letting the fabric grind on you. "oh, fuck," you moan.
"yeah? you like that?" he asks gruffly, rubbing your clit through your pants from side to side. usually this stimulation wouldn't be enough, but fuck you were so hot for him that you didn't care. "fuckin' dressed like a boy," he scoffs.
tears burn in your eyes, partly from his words, the other part from the stimulation. then he slaps you across the face. "i asked you a fucking question."
"yes!" you cry, moving a hand to rub at your stinging cheek. he grabs your hand and then slaps the other side of your face, just for fun. a few tears slip down your face at his physicality, but doesn't change that fact that you, "love it so much!"
"think you deserve to come?" he asks. "after that shit you pulled. you think you deserve it?"
you sniffle, knowing damn well what his answer's going to be. "well, i don't."
he removes his hands then promptly wipes them on his pants. you sob out, grasping for his hands but he pushes off of you. "you better come back with a better attitude if you expect anything more than what i gave you."
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loguetowns · 1 year
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meet cute
luffy x reader, law x reader, kid x reader
a trilogy of short fics ft. the captain trio
what happens when a pirate takes the last pastry?
0.9k words
a/n: this bakery that i go to is always sold out by the time i go in the afternoon, so i went at 7am and finally got more than just leftovers and it was sooo worth it
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when monkey d. luffy meets you, he doesn't even see you at first because you're hidden behind the mountain of baked goods on his tray. sure, maybe he overdid it but they all looked too good to stop at one. and if anyone asks, he plans on having them all himself.
unless there's a good reason to, luffy doesn't share.
you start packing his order, the mountain slowly shrinking with each bun, as you sneak glances at the guy in the straw hat on the other side of the counter. he's cute and friendly, and you think this is the shortest amount of time it took for you to crush on a guy.
making small talk, you ask him about his day ("it's great now! there's so many options here!") and he asks you about your favourite pastry.
"oh, it's this one!" you point at the last bread on his tray, "but it's always sold out by the time i'm on lunch."
to which luffy frowns, thinking about how unfair it is that someone as nice and cute as you doesn't get to enjoy their favourite treat.
you take his coins, blushing when your fingers brush his, and thank him for coming by, wondering when you'll see him next.
it turns out that the answer is very soon.
because 10 minutes later, luffy comes flying into the shop, landing right next to you with a little laugh and your favourite pastry in his hand,
"here," he grins. "for you."
luffy doesn't mind sharing if it's for a good reason — and your wonderfully surprised smile is a pretty damn good reason.
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trafalgar law thinks to himself that if it wasn't bepo's birthday, he would've left the bakery ages ago. but now he stands here, surrounded by nothing but bread, and he realizes that unless he wants to skip lunch, he's gonna have to find something to eat.
what shitty luck.
he eyes the last tuna bun and grabs it, thinking about how this'll have to do, when someone knocks into his arm and the bun goes flying out of his hands.
he whirls around, ready to unleash his hangry fury, but his complaints die on his tongue when he discovers who bumped into him — a pretty, adorable thing.
"oh my god! i'm so sorry!" you yelp. "oh no, there's none left..."
you fuss over the empty display, but law's already forgotten about his fallen bun. you're far too cute, with a faint tinge of pink in your cheeks, for him to care about a pastry he wasn't going to enjoy.
"wait!" you rummage through your bag. "it's not a tuna bun but it's close?"
you offer him an onigiri, one with bits of grilled fish, and law can hardly believe that he's staring at his salvation.
his handsome face breaks into a wide smile and you can't help but do the same. your eyes are warm, a soft smile dancing on your lips, and there's a sugary sweet feeling in law's chest when you hand him the rice ball.
what wondrous luck.
he takes his favourite food from your hands and thinks that maybe — just maybe — bakeries aren't so bad.
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the only thing eustass kid is thinking about right now is how much he's going to enjoy eating this chocolate danish. he reaches into the display to grab the last one, but instead of a flaky pastry, his fingers find a soft hand.
"excuse me," you say. "i'm just trying to reach the danish."
kid gives you the onceover (pretty, he thinks). "ya should be excused. that's my danish."
you narrow your eyes at the boldness of this rude (albeit, hot) stranger. "says who?"
"says me."
"and who are you exactly?"
kid puffs his chest, "eustass kid."
you scrunch your nose and cross your arms, "you mean the boorish pirate who raided that south blue island?"
"i- boorish?" kid gapes incredulously.
"did i stutter?" you scoff. "you pirates are awful. the more good looking you are, the ruder you are."
you blush slightly at the admission, but kid's too riled up to even notice (though later, he'll remember it and grin).
"do you insult everyone that you meet?" he grits.
"i don't know, do you steal food from everyone that you meet?"
"listen," kid leans over you, catching a whiff of your shampoo (which just so happens to be his favourite scent). "i already said that the danish is mine."
unwilling to be intimidated, you jab a finger in his (extremely muscular) chest. "you damned pirates always take what you want - absolutely zero consideration for the rest of us."
"you're no angel either, sweetheart. generalizations don't look good on anyone — not even cute hotties like you."
your cheeks flush hot, "you-!"
"me, what? look who's stuttering now, huh?" he goads, getting even closer to your face now.
"you really-"
"mommy, look! i got the last one!"
both of you snap out of it just in time to see a little girl grab the pastry you were fighting over. dumbfounded, you look at kid and just when you're about to curse him out, he cuts you off.
"well, looks like neither of us get what we wanted," he says.
then, kid turns back towards you with a devilishly handsome grin, "but now i kinda want you, so how about i buy ya dinner instead?"
(spoiler: you say yes.)
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yuri-is-online · 10 months
Text
It's Not Going Away (First Years x Yuu)
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The subtle, sweet scent of flowers shakes you gently awake, but to your surprise you lack the strength to move. It's like your entire body is made of lead and your throat is filled with sand. A vague memory of telling Grim you didn't feel well before... well you thought you were just taking a nap, but there's person holding your hand who would never speak to you like this if he knew you could soon wake up.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, angst brought by denial, technically sick fic? Inspired by the op to Horimiya, which can be listened to here (x). References for flower language were taken from here and here. If you like this feel free to check out my masterlist for more fic.
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Rose, Great Maiden's Blush
"Seriously, what am I going to do with you?" The voice belongs to Ace, you'd recognize him anywhere, but it's strangely strained. If you had the strength to move you would slap him, but then you would need to let go of his hand. It's warm, comforting, a bit rough from basketball and tending the roses, and fills you with happiness. Ace would probably make fun of you if he knew how badly you wanted this, take away his hand with a look of disgust and stick out his tongue. "Just kidding~" That's how your dynamic has been ever since he first asked to crash on your couch, two steps forward into something more, one leap back into the safe zone. "You know I'm not always going to be around to take care of you, yeah? One of these days you are gonna go home and leave me, whose going to look out for you then?" He lets go of your hand and you want to scream for him to stay, but feel the fever settling you back into sleep. "You'll be ok, I know that. You don't need me as much as I want you to, so-" He touches your cheek, caressing it so tenderly you want to keep him there forever but he doesn't bother to finish his thought.
But by the time you are able to wake up he's long gone, the only thing suggesting it wasn't a dream a vase full of roses he's definitely going to brush off as lame. That's assuming he brought them in the first place, you have never seen these flowers in the Heartslabyul garden. Maybe you were just being too hopeful, you think to yourself as you lean your still warm hand against your painfully beating heart.
(if you do love me you will find me out)
Rose, Tea
"Hey don't you think you might be hurting the prefect?" The person holding your hand has it in a tight grip, but it isn't uncomfortable. far from it, you feel wanted, secure in someone's appreciation. That voice belongs to Ace, you think that makes the hand your holding Deuce, but he's refusing to respond verbally and confirming your suspicions. The silence fills the room for an uncomfortably long time, even for you, you're grateful when Ace decides to break it. "Deuce-"
"We're not doing this now." His grip on you hand loosens, but he still keeps it near. You can tell Deuce's fighting to keep his cool. "They ar-"
"You're always talking about the future like they'll be there." Ace snaps, careful to dull his voice but not his point. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind laughing at you two losers forever, but have you even thought about what your future will look like if they aren't there?"
"I can't. And don't act like you don't know that already." There's movement in the room, you think Ace tries to get Deuce to leave with him but he doesn't budge. He takes your hand again as the door clicks closed, moving to cradle it in both of his with such care it's hard to believe these are the same fists you've seen busting up jaws for breaking some eggs. "I'm sorry you had to hear that." he whispers, but you're unsure if he knows your awake or if he is just speaking to fill the silence "You can go back to sleep now, I'll be here when you wake up I promise." You have no choice but to take him at his word, settling into your bed and hoping you will have the courage to face each other when you wake.
(i'll remember always)
Spider Flower
There's only ever one. For his father and mother, for his grandfather and grandmother, so long as there have been wolves in the mountains they have only ever sought out one partner for the rest of their lives. But you aren't programmed like that, you said as much when the boys started gossiping about their preferences during that whole ghost bride event. "I'd like a soulmate, I just don't think I have one." And you meant it really, you were sure Jack would meet someone like him that would be perfect for him one day. So why is there a fluffy head resting next to you? Why is a tail draped over your legs, you want to believe protectively but you can't bring yourself to open your eyes and check.
"I swear it's like I'm in love with the moon." Jack grumbles into your side. "No matter how loud I howl you can't hear me and act like I'm not on your radar at all." That's not true, he's all you can think about sometimes, you just wanted to spare his feelings since it couldn't be possible for him to love you back. "Maybe I was wrong that I didn't have to worry about winning you over..." His tail wraps up closer to your waist and you try to snuggle closer into him. He'll ask you later, maybe when you wake up or maybe even later than that, but he has to ask. You might be out of reach, but that's only if he does not try. The flowers at your bedside have a specific meaning, he made sure to ask Vil for help just this once, though if the message doesn't make it through he supposes he can ask again.
(elope with me)
Alyssum
Warmth leaves your body as the person who has been holding your hand gently lets it go, setting it on your chest as he pats it and begins to hum an unfamiliar tune. The familiar shlick of a knife through an apple sets a scene you can't open your eyes to see, for someone so hot headed, Epel seems remarkably calm right now. "I wonder if it's ok for me ta look at you like this..." or maybe he wasn't. "I mean I have seen you sleeping before when I put you under my spell, but this is a bit different. Would be nicer if it was under different circumstances..." He pauses in his carving, studying you for any sign that you could be awake and poking your cheek a few times to try and wake you, pouting when you don't immediately rise. "You know I was really happy when I found my signature spell. I wanted to protect you so badly, and for so long I was convinced I couldn't. I thought if I could just get stronger, and taller I would be able to-" There's a weight next to you on the bed now, it sounds like Epel has put his head in his hands and resolved himself to stare you down until you wake up. "But I don't think you'll be around long enough for me to reach the point I wanted to before telling you anything." You manage to stir slightly, and are rewarded with startled noises from Epel that give way to disappointed relief when you realize actually getting up is just a task too much for you right now. As if he realizes this, Epel reaches out to squeeze your hand before returning to his apples. The strange song makes its way to his lips once more, but this time he softly gives it words.
There's a note left for you alongside the flowers, telling you to drink water and that there's a bunch of apples in your fridge that you absolutely have to eat. It's some of his best work he says and you can't help but wonder if he doesn't just mean the carving.
(worth beyond beauty)
Gladioli
“I’m not quite sure when I started to see you differently, just know I feel like a fool for my prior behavior." The letters hadn't been signed, but you had an inkling who they were from. In place of a picture every third one was accompanied by the exact same flower, you thought it was cute how well Sebek thought he was covering his tracks. It would be nice if he was the one holding your hand, but that couldn't be. He was too loud, if he was here then you would know. Even his unsigned letters were loudly and proudly him, mercifully free of praise for Malleus though they were. "You shine like dew on a rose, for your praise I go to lengths that surprise myself. Some say I am foolish, most call me single minded and in your presence I cannot protest those sentiments. Given your circumstances, it would be selfish of me to ask for your patience, but I must. I must ask for your patience until I can ask you aloud." You were content to be patient with him, if you weren't you never would have been friends in the first place. The person holding your hand gives it a final squeeze, though he pulls away slowly, trying to savor every last bit of illicit contact he can.
When you are finally able to move a familiar sort of flower around your room, once again someone is trying to be romantic and failing to cover his tracks. Once again he is refusing to face you, out of fear or shame you do not know. You gently pick at the petals, trying to divine just what it is you think Sebek wants to say, not just what you want it to mean.
(i am really sincere)
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