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#tbs smutty
the-fiction-witch · 9 months
Text
Beach Day
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Media IRL
Character Thomas Brodie Sangster 
Couple Thomas X Reader
Rating Smut 
Concept Date to the Beach
Smut nudity / fondling / breast play / nipple play / grinding / jizz / perverted / condoms / teasing
I had to admit I was … kinda nervous. Me and y/n had always been friends as hung around similar circles and all, and… I'd had a pretty big crush on her for a good while now. At first I didn't do anything about it but my feelings and admittedly my hormones kinda forced me to do something, and I asked her out a few months back and to my surprise she liked me too. So we'd been texting nonstop and going in little dates mostly just for movies and meeting up at the shopping center with other friends but today was our first real date alone that wasn't just hanging out in someone's bedroom. I was taking her to the beach just the two of us to enjoy the sun and sand. I was nervous not just about us being actually alone but the fact I'm going to be faced with y/n. In a swimsuit. Yeah… we had yet to do very much physically more than holding hands and a few more intense kisses but that was it and… I'm pretty damn egar. I drove up to her house and saw her there, in her little lace up shoes, her little red and black plaid skirt, her little strap shirt and cardigan over her, with her bags waiting she smiled throwing her stuff in the back and climbing in "hey"
"Hey" she smiled giving my lips a little kiss "you ready?'
"Yeah definitely, here your incharge of music" 
"Thank you Tommy" she smiled happily taking charge 
Luckily given I had to drive I had a way to focus even if I often couldn't help my eyes linguing on her thighs given her little skirt at one point while we sat in some traffic I couldn't help myself uncontrollably moving my hand from the wheel to her thigh she giggled immediately
"Awwww" she smiled leaning her head on my shoulder, honestly I was distracted given my hand was on half bare skin and half her little skirt "Tommy, we're moving'
"Oh sorry-" I jumped moving us the few inches we had moved 
"I think we should just…" she says moving my hand away "just while your driving, don't want you getting all distracted" she smiled kissing my cheek 
"Thats fair" I sighed focusing on the road 
"Maybe if your good at the beach you'll get a consultation prize for not being able to hold my thigh" she smiled
"Yeah?"
"Maybe"
"What uhh what kind of prize?"
"You'll see" she giggled
Luckily traffic cleaned up and we found a good place to park up not to far of a walk to the area of the beach we wanted so we grabbed our stuff she had her backpack and her bag and I just hand my backpack we locked the car up and began the walk chatting as we walked as usual, unfortunately I began to lag behind a little bit but as I did I discovered an amazing thing. When she put her back pack on she must have slid it up her back and it had caught her skirt meaning it was holding up her skirt at the back revealing her lace panties and her ass slightly jiggling with each step luckily knowone else was around I did my best to remain composed but…. Fuck. Now it's even harder to walk as I have a raging erection. I wanted to fix it for her secret like but I couldn't help myself utterly hypnotized watching her walk so much so I had actually began drooling over her 
"You okay Tommy?" She asked turning to me 
"Ohh uhh yeah I'm fine" I nodded 
"Alright," she smiled giving me a little kiss but I couldn't help kissing her a little more intense pulling her closer by her hips tugging down her skirt so others wouldn't see her till she pulled back "excited today Tommy" she giggled before continuing on to the beach 
"You have no idea"
Once we got to the beach we found a little wooden changing room if wasn't much just enough to cover what mattered but that did not stop my imagination given she went first the wooden door started just at her shoulders and ended Just above her knees. Something insanely arousing about watching her faced away pulling her skirt off, her skirt, then tugging of those little lace panties seeing them meerly drop down her legs I could only imagine the beauty that laid meerly behind that wooden door but I forced my eyes away just look at the sea. There wasn't actually alot of people here maybe Sox on the whole stretch of beach 
"All done!" She smiled as she emerged 
"Holy fuck-" physically came out of my mouth as I looked at her the little tank top and skirt gone replaced by this little blue bikini, the top half literally like two triangles attached around the black and around her neck with string thinner then floss. And a bottoms the same snug with tiny string. She had slipped her cardigan around her but still!
"What do you think?" She asked doing a little spin for me 
"Uuuuuuuhhh you look lovely" I told her
"Thank you, your turn I'm going to pick omus a good spot" she smiled heading off so I quickly ducked in the changing cube and began to change and I wanted to address the situation the moment I tugged my boxers down I noticed just how hard I was, I was already leaking precum half way down my shaft there's no way I'm going to be able to hide this in swim trunks. I did my best to clear my mind and let it go down a little before then still having basically hide or on my waist band. Once done I headed out with my stuff and went to find her.
Just enjoy a nice day at the beach with your cute girlfriend quit being a perv. Just don't think about her like that. Just don't think about it 
"Ummmmmm" she sighed sat on her towel with her cardigan now gone rubbing suncream up her bare legs "Tommy could you help me get my back?" She asks 
"Uuughhh okay" I gulped as she finished her legs and turned to lay on her towel I nervously took the bottle and added a good amount to my hand being slow trying to savour rubbing my hands all over her 
"Ummm that's nice" she smiled as I was rubbing her back quiet a lot and there for kinda giving her a massage as I worked the suncream into her skin "Thomas I think that's enough now"
"Sorry y/n" i quickly put my towel down beside her and sat down looking at the sea trying to distract myself given she now turned over and was laid basically almost naked next to me.
I couldn't help my giggles as I laid on my towel enjoying the warm summer sun, watching the waves kiss the sand as I locked my rocket pop and watching him struggle, it was kinda adorable seeing Thomas like this he's usually composed but it was cute watching him struggle. I had been torturing him a while now of course I wanted to be far more intimate with him then I had been but I liked having so much power over him winding him up to make him eager for my tiny touches, but this was getting to the point i was kinda worried he may explode. We had been sitting here a good while chatting having grabbed some ice cream from a passing cart I still had my long rocket pop but his ice cream bar long gone even if I think he was partly using it as an excuse to not pay attention to me for a few moments unfortunately he now couldn't stop glancing at me as I slowly licked my lollipop.
"You alright tommy?"
"Uhhh yeah. Fine" he answered 
I smiled sitting up and turning his chin to make him look at me "you sure?" I asked as I finished my lollipop and put the stick in my little rubbish bag
He made contact with my eyes for maybe a second before immediately his eyes dropped to my bikini before quickly returning to my face his cheska turning red "uuuuuuuhhh… yes." He gulped 
"Really? Because it looks like your hiding another rocket pop down your shorts" I giggled
He looked down and immediately noticed what I meant "damn it! I thought I hid that" he complained putting his bag over himself "I'm sorry y/n. It's just we haven't really done all that much and I really like you, and you look… umm- amazing in that. I'm sorry I think I'm just a little, overexcited" 
"Awww you poor thing" I cooed "would a cuddle help you feel better?"
"Honestly? No. I the idea of you hugging me in a bikini may cause a bigger problem" 
"Aww okay," I smiled giving his cheek a kiss and laying my head on his shoulder until I hatched an evil plan "would it help if … I let you do something?" I whispered and he froze up "to get it out of your system?" 
"....what kinda something?" He asks sheepishly "because this area is not that privet and I cannot walk very much right now"
"Why not?" I giggled
"I can't walk when I'm this hard" he whispered 
"Well, how about we cuddle? And maybe you could…" I smiled glanced down and slightly giving my chest a shimmy he looked completely blank a moment before his eyes went wide and his head jolted quickly
"Really?"
"If it'll help?" 
".... I don't know if it'll help." He says "but I think my brain may actually murder me of I say no to that" 
"Okay" I smiled "may I?' I asked tapping his towel between his legs 
"Yes!" He says excitedly likely a little louder than he meant to I smiled and shuffled onto his towel sitting just In Front of him with his legs either side of me I smiled and watched the sea a moment but he didn't move so I took his hands and wrapped them around my stomach so his chest would press against my back at first he froze up again but melted against me leaning his chin on my shoulder and slightly squeezing his arms around me his thumbs stroking my skin "ummmmmm" 
"Cosy?" 
"Very cosy" he Cooes giving my shoulder a kiss 
"Awww maybe I should dress like this all the time of this is how snuggly you get' I smiled rubbing my head on his 
"You do I think I'll die"
"Why?'
"My Brian's gonna be starved of blood."
"Why? Where's all your blood gonna go?"
He didn't answer he simply pushed his hips against my back pressing his rock hard erection against me 
"Oooh. I see." I giggled "could I have a kiss?" I asked 
"Of course" he smiled giving my cheek a kiss but I turned his head a little so I could give his lips kisses he happily kissed back often squeezing me as our kisses turned less and less innocent till I pulled back
"So? Would you like some help? To get it all out of your system?'
"Yes please" he nods quickly
I smiled waiting a moment for a few dog walkers to pass closer to the water before I moved his hand up to my breast immediately he grasped me rather firmly starting his gentle squeezes his breath became far more intense often I could hear little groans and moans escape his lips but he began kissing my neck and shoulder like crazy clearly as an outlet for his overwhelmed pleasure and to keep himself quiet "can I? Please-" he whispered his other hand tugging at my bikini and I nodded which made him instantly take the other breast on his hand too now fondling and squeezing both my breasts 
I giggled a little "enjoying yourself?"
"Oh god yes-" he muttered leaving a intense kiss on my cheek 
I blushed a little as I spotted some people down the beach they were near the waves so pretty far from us but I got a little worried about us getting spotted so I hatched a plan I took his hands and moved them under my bikini leaving the blue fabric ontop of his hands so from a distance you wouldn't be able to tell what was going on which seemed to drive him even crazier now moaning alot into my ear as he groped and squeezed even his thumbs slightly rubbing on my nipples where they got hard from his rubbing and squeezing
"Uuhhh Tommy" i giggled shifting my hips where his playing and rubbing was causing pleasure feeling his erection now throbbing against my back as he passionately and quickly peppered my neck with kisses 
"Ugh- uuhh oh my god-" he groans "I'm not sure I'll - last much longer sweetheart"
"That's okay," I smiled taking his hand away giving it a little kiss "consider it your consolation prize" I Cooed leaning back against his chest a little and gently Guiding his hand down my stomach and into my bikini shorts he gasped as his fingers stroked across me his index finger gently stroking a half circle on my clit before
"Oh fuck-" he groans again my neck biting me sucking hard to leave a hiki on my neck as I felt something kinda warm but wet feeling sputter across my back his hands immediately relaxed at my hips and he sat leaning his cheek against my shoulder for a good couple of minutes
"You okay Tommy?" I giggled
"Ummm… fine… just uhhh just give me a minute' he gasps 
"What happened? You squish the suncream bottle between us or something?" I asked 
And he gave my cheek a kiss "don't tease me. You know what you did" he smirked 
"Tommy!" I giggled and I grabbed some tissues from my bag handing them to him before leaning my arms on the towel so I basically bent over he happily sat up and cleaned my back for me and himself before he held my waist but flipped me over so I laid on my back on my towel 
"Stop teasing me" he says giving my lips a kiss 
"But tommy" I whined pulling him closer and wrapping my legs around his waist "it's ever so much fun" I smiled tugging him into a kiss which he happily kissed back into it quickly becoming a rather sloppy make out till he pulled back enough that he still loomed over me unable to stop himself looking at me in my little bikini with my legs around him which only made me giggle more 
"Stop it." He warns "I can't take anymore teasing sweetheart" he says trying to move away but I meerly locked my ankles together so he couldn't move away from me which caused him to gulp 
"But I thought you liked me teasing you?"
"W-what do you mean?" He glared
"Well I've been teasing you since we started dating, I assume you liked it"
"You - you've been teasing me on purpose!"
"Did you not know that?"
"No!"
"Tommy I was teasing you for like a year before you asked me out?"
".... Oh my god. I'm a fucking idiot."
"I mean… kinda" 
"You've been intentionally teasing me this whole time!"
"You thought all that was an accident? Or unintentional?"
"Then why haven't you… been very affectionate with me?"
"Because it was fun to wind you up and see how long till you snapped, you lasted longer than I thought you would"
"... You've been doing all this on purpose?"
"I have"
"Even the uhhh the skirt-"
"You really think I wouldn't have noticed my skirt was caught the whole walk here?"
"Even the- the little" he says looking at my bikini
"It's like two sizes too small and I purposely cut the top a little smaller"
"You are an evil little thing" 
"Love you" I giggled
"Love you too sweetheart" he smiled leaning down to kiss me till he pulled back "no more teasing" he says tapping my nose 
"Or what?"
"Humm… or I'll rip that little bikini off" he smirked kissing down my neck and slightly nibbling at my breasts 
"Tommy! That tickles" I giggled pushing him away 
"No more?"
"I promise"
"Okay sweetheart" he smiled giving me a sweet kiss 
"Tommy?"
"Ummmm?" 
"Did you… bring anything in your backpack? For today?" I asked 
"Oh what do you want? Water? Suncream? Should we go looking for more ice cream?" He asks 
"I was thinking something a little more special" I smiled stroking my hand down his chest 
"Ohh…" he smirked moving away to grab his bag so I sat up as he dug through the bag before his had emerged with literally a hand full of the various coloured wrappers "I may have came over prepared" 
"Tommy, how many did you bring?"
"Uhhhhh …" he says before flicking them thought his hands even having to grab more from his bag to count "thirty two" 
"You thought we were going to have sex thirty two times today?"
"I like to be prepared!" He argued "there all different kinds, I wanted to make sure you had choices" 
"That's very considerate Tommy" I giggled giving him a kiss "you can choose"
"... Really!"
"One" I told him 
He quickly flipped thought them all desperately searching for something specific until he found it and stuffed the rest in his bag, I took it from him giving it a read as he sat almost bouncing slightly like an excited puppy 
"Ribbed?"
"Make sure my little lady feels as good as I do" he smiled
"Sweet" I smiled putting the condom in my little bikini bottoms tie which only got him more excited he went for a kiss but I got up letting him almost fall into the sand I grabbed my towel wrapping it up and throwing it in my bag "come on, there should be a nice private spot up by the rocks" I smiled
"Now!" He asked 
"Yeah," I smirked "I'll race you, last one there has to go down on the other in the car before we go home" I told him before I stated to run towards the rocks and of course it took him maybe a second before shoving everything in his bag and bolting after me as fast as he could 
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twola · 11 months
Note
I always hate like “requesting” something because it feels like a forceful “write this for me now!” kind of thing, but a I’ve always had this smutty idea in my head where Arthur is getting a little weaker from the TB, but is also pinning after some cute girl in camp. Some wooing occurs and things start getting steamy~ but it’s her first time or she’s not super experienced. I feel like HH!Arthur would try to be the gentleman to show her a sweet, gentle time, but wouldn’t have the stamina for missionary, so his partner would pick up where he leaves off by riding him like the work horse he is. I just thin the scenario would be perfect for like sexy words of encouragement (def NOT thinking of his mare voice lines *wink wink wink*) plus Arthur getting taken care of too instead of just doing the caring. I have like 0 writing skills tho lol so if you ever found yourself in need of smutty I soo I would feel HONORED for you to bring my nasty Arthur thoughts to life
Ooh, TB whumpy smut… I’m sensing a pattern here. My poor boah, how I love to torture him…
This was a good one! Still working on a few more. I love and thrive on feedback so drop me a line if you liked it.
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Regret Me Not
Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI
➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link
Regrets seem to take up much of his headspace these days... But for one regret of his, Arthur takes action with a little bit of urging on your part.
Arthur wheezes, covering his mouth with the back of his palm, the wet, hacking noise that scrapes out of his throat as he sits on the boulder south of Beaver Hollow, out of earshot of the camp. 
Not that he needed people’s stares. He looks terrible enough that he gets looks of pity from the women, avoided by the men - and Dutch? Well, he is living in another reality.
Another cough rips through him, as he feels as if he were drowning within his own body. A small hand lands on his back. He looks up, rubbing his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
You stand over his shoulder, rubbing gently, concern alight in your eyes. You look down and dig into the pockets of your skirts.
“Here.” You say with a small smile, handing him a bottle of tonic.
He coughs again, butchering his thanks, as he takes the bottle from your hands, uncorking it quickly and downing the foul-tasting liquid quickly.
“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, hand still resting on his shoulder, slowly, gently rubbing circles into his upper back.
Arthur wants to lean wholly into your touch. He wants to wrap himself into you and let you card your fingers through his hair. He wants to rest. He wants to sleep.
He wants, he wants - but alas. None of that was possible.
“Like hell.” He grits out hoarsely, tossing the empty bottle to the dirt at his feet.
“I’m sorry, Arthur.” You say softly. Your other hand moves to his back as well, rubbing at his other shoulder.
“ ‘S alright.” He murmurs, not wanting to let on how good your hands feel on him.
A silence settles in, and you rub at his shoulders for a few moments more before drawing your hands away from him.
“Well… I just wanted to check on you. See how you’re doin’. I’ll see you later, Arthur.” You say, and he can hear the crunch of gravel under your boot as you turn on your heel. You begin to walk up the path back toward camp, as he turns and follows you with his gaze over his shoulder.
Arthur wants. In the embracing of his mortality, the facade of propriety and the painstakingly built walls around his heart crumble in the face of his own death.
He has watched you for months. Yearned for months, wanted and needed your attention, always too self-conscious to reach out and touch.
Sister Calderon’s words echo in his ears with each step you take away from him.
“Take a chance that love exists.”
“D-do you wanna get outta here?”
His voice is hoarse, almost weak sounding. Nothing of the man that he used to be.
You stop, turning around, a small smile creeping across your face. “God, get outta this hell hole? Absolutely. Anywhere is better than these hills.”
His heart hopes.
“I gotta go grab some mail from Van Horn. Ain't much better though…”
“It ain’t here, Mister Morgan. Let’s go.”
Van Horn is just as decrepit as the last time he was here. Falling apart and full of the dregs of society, left behind by the churning wheel of progress. He mirthfully counts himself as one of them, he supposes.
He tucks the letters he retrieved into his satchel, moseying slowly toward the back of the dock, where you stand with your elbows on the railing, gazing at the river’s lazy waters. Northward, toward the mountains and the river’s origins.
“Y’ready there, ma’am?”
You look back at him but don’t move. “Already? Ugh. Camp’s just so…”
Arthur sidles up next to you, placing his own elbows on the railing, grunting in agreement. You didn’t need to go any further, he knew where you were going with your comment.
The camp was… well, a gloom has settled upon it. Dutch acting irrational, angry. The loss of Hosea and Lenny. Running from Pinkertons.
And his own impending demise, of course.
“What’re you gonna do after?” Arthur asks quietly and notices the stuttering breath you take as your shoulders drop a little.
“I… I don’t know. I don’t have much else than this.”
Arthur hangs his head, taking in a deep breath. A breath that seems to barely fill his ailing lungs, and he coughs slightly under the rim of his hat.
“Y’got a good head on you. You’ll do fine.” He grits out, voice hoarse.
You remain silent, your eyes set on the water of the slow-flowing river. A boat chugs southbound, heading toward Saint Denis.
“I don’t know how I’ll fare being alone.” You softly murmur.
He sighs. “I’m sure you can stay with Abigail or Missus Adler. Or Charles. You got people to watch out for you.”
“But not you.”
A pang, a sharp pain shoots through his chest, above and beyond the near-constant constriction of his lungs.
“No. Not me.”
You look up at him, a sheen of wetness over your eyes. It pains him as he looks back.
A tear rolls down your face and it’s everything he is not to lean over and cup your face in his hands and wipe your tears away.
“Sweetheart, you deserve-”
“Don’t. Don’t tell me what I deserve, Arthur Morgan.” You spit out, tears openly running down your cheeks.
Arthur sighs, looking back down at the water. It is murky, muddy, dirty right under the dock. Just like this damn town.
You push yourself into his surprised embrace, clutching at his shirt, and it takes him a moment to realize that this wasn’t a dream, and he winds his arms around you, pulling you against him.
“I wish you would stop hiding from me.” You whisper as he holds you to his chest, your cheek pressed against his breastbone, probably hearing the crackling failure of his lungs with each breath he takes.
He doesn’t know how to answer that. For years now, it’s been easier for him to keep that urn with the remains of his heart buried from all.
“I’m here… I’m here now.” He murmurs, resting his chin atop your head.
“I’ve been waitin’ for you, Arthur. Waitin’ and wishing for you to ask me to be yours.” You bury yourself in his embrace.
Fuck.
Arthur’s resolve cracks like a piece of porcelain.
“I’m just a fool. A fool for making you wait.”
You shudder against him, digging your fingers into his shirt, and your breath stutters as you try to stifle a sob. Pulling away, you look up at him, his bloodshot, sunken eyes, still the blue-green pools you would drown in.
You lean up on your toes, arms winding around his neck, but he turns his face away as you draw closer. 
“No. I ain’t gettin’ you sick too.”
You frown, glassy-eyed, about to draw your arms from him before he leans down and presses his lips to your cheek, again and again, moving up toward your ear.
“But…. I’ll give you whatever else it is you want.” He rumbles, arms wound tight around you, his body arcing over yours.
You shiver in his embrace, pulling your head back ever so slightly to look him in the eye.
“I want whatever you’re willing to give me.” You whisper, hands moving up and clutching at his collar.
He leans his forehead against yours. “If you want a dying, washed-up gunsling-”
You interrupt, pressing up on your toes and kissing his cheek, “I want you, Arthur Morgan. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
So long.
So long.
Goddamnit. He’s been looking at you, yearning for you, for months. Before Blackwater and ferries and being chased by Pinkertons. Before Dutch became erratic, before all of these complications. When he was chasing tumbleweeds across the wild and open west.
He gives a shuddering sigh, and draws you closer, pulling you to him and placing his lips on the long line of your neck. You whimper as he pulls a bit of your pale skin between his teeth, suckling on it, hoping to leave a mark.
You throw your arms completely around his shoulders and begin to pant in his ear. Whimpers turn to whines as one of his large hands moves down from your waist to clench roughly at your rear, drawing you against his pelvis and his rapidly hardening cock.
“A-Arthur - please -” You moan, rubbing yourself against him, and he regretfully draws his mouth away from your skin, pink-tinged and wet from his attentions.
As much as he’d love to turn you around, throw up your skirts, and press himself into you for the sake of time, he knows you deserve more than that.
“Lemme get a room.” He pants, letting go of you, moving to adjust himself in his trousers. “Go on upstairs.”
You pull at the collar of your blouse to hide the evidence of your indiscretion and quietly nod, moving past him and slowly climbing the rickety stairs to the second story of the decrepit building. 
He quickly pays for a room, and grabs the key from the clerk with a dismissive grunt, hurrying his way up the stairs to find you leaning against the second-story railing, waiting for him. 
Arthur jams the key into the door’s lock, pushing it open, and lumbering into the room, where he immediately sheds the repeater strapped to his back and places it on the worn table next to the door. His gunbelt follows as you step inside, closing and locking the door behind you. 
He places his hat atop the pile of guns on the table, looking back at you.
“Still want to do-”
You cut him off by closing the distance between you and throwing your arms around his waist.
He pulls you toward the bed, and places his hands on your waist, holding you still, as he sits on the bed, the worn frame creaking under his weight. He doesn’t spare it a second thought, eyes trained on you, and he gently pulls you to sit in his lap.
You cup his cheek gently, thumb tracing along his beard that he’s kept longer to hide the gauntness of his cheeks. His large hand lands on your thigh, squeezing it as he presses his face into the hollow of your neck.
You gasp as you feel his tongue on your skin, clutching at his shirt as you tilt your head back.
You shiver again as his hand creeps up under your skirt, finger gently rubbing against the seam of your bloomers, which dampens quickly under his ministrations.
“It's been a while,” He grunts out, unable to stop his hips from bucking up against your legs with you seated in his lap, the long line of him chasing your warmth.
“M-me too. Ain’t since-” you mewl into his ear as his fingers push your bloomers to the side and brush against the damp skin of your core, “some stable boy when I was sixteen- ahh - we - we didn’t know what we was doin’.” You gasp out as his pointer finger, thick and strong, dips inside your entrance, sheathing to the knuckle within your cunt.
He slides another finger inside you, groaning against your hair when he realizes how tight you are, clutching desperately at his digits, imagining how good you would feel surrounding his cock.
“I’ll be good to you,” He grits out, crooking his fingers within you.
“Oh-” You gasp, “I know, I know you will, Arthur.”
Arthur pulls you from his lap and lays you on the bed next to him, and immediately starts to shed his clothing, tossing it into piles on the floor as you join him, skirts and shirts thrown from the bed, a union suit and chemise - your bloomers land on the floor and he quickly climbs atop you, spreading your legs and fitting his hips in the cradle of yours.
In this old, dirty bed in this old, dirty room, he swears he has never seen something so beautiful as you sprawled out beneath him, the rise and fall of your breathing, the blush crawling down your cheeks to your neck, spreading out across your chest, to your pink nipples, pebbling as they are exposed to the cool air.
He leans down, balancing himself on his forearms, finding that spot on your neck again and nibbling at it, while one of his hands works its way to the space between you, grasping his hard cock and stroking it as he presses the swollen head against your core.
You mewl as he presses in, the head of his cock entering you, his hand moving from its base to frame your head again.
“God, you’re perfect.” He groans as he starts to press himself inside, inch by inch disappearing into your wet warmth, your panting high and fast in his ear as he suckles on your neck once again.
He thrusts, gently, and his hips press against yours as he’s buried himself to the hilt in your cunt. You mewl out a high whine, nails digging into his shoulder.
Arthur presses himself up slightly, looking down upon you. His fingers begin playing with the curling hairs at your temple, waiting for you to open your eyes, a sign that you’re used to his length and girth within you.
And when you do, he’s stricken. Your eyes flutter open and you inhale a breath with a sweet sigh. God, for once in his damn life, he’s doing something right.
Your arms wind around his neck as you press your lips to his cheek, he knows that you want to taste him, to mold your lips together and moan into each other’s mouths - he wants that too, but it’s a step too far. He’s already half afraid of spreading his sickness to you.
Arthur thrusts, gently still, but faster and harder than he had been, you squeal in delight, which spurs him into finding a rhythm, his body moving over yours.
He grunts, panting as he moves his hips, fucking into you and pressing you down into this old, uncomfortable mattress. He swears he’ll bring you to some nice hotel in Saint Denis and make love to you on a plush expensive mattress-
A constriction in his chest stops him mid-thrust.
He pants, wheezing, his hips slowing as he struggles to catch his breath. Christ, what a sorry excuse for a man he is - can’t even please a woman in the state he’s in.
You gently push on his shoulder, and he has the stamina, at least, to raise himself up and look upon you, cheeks blazing in shame.
“Here, maybe I should get on top?” You ask, your hand cupping his cheek while the other gently lays upon his chest.
He groans at the thought, his traitorous cock twitching as he’s buried in your cunt, causing you to gasp out. 
“Alrigh’,” Arthur grunts, and steadies his knees while he pulls his hands to you: one beneath your lower back, one below your shoulder blades. In a jumble of limbs and skin, he rolls over, somehow keeping himself sheathed in you until you’re splayed atop him, your small hips spread out over his.
He has to admit, this was a good idea you had, even before you think to move, what a sight he’s given. His cock fully enveloped in your hips, the dark thatch of hair between your thighs mixing with the curls at his base. Up, up the curves of your waist, he trails his hands, gently skimming your sweat-slicked skin. Your breasts, small yet perky, he’s enraptured by the way your nipples pebble as he rubs his thumbs over them, the sweet sigh that leaves your lips as your head falls back.
God almighty, you’re the sweetest thing alive.
Your hands find purchase on his chest, fingers pulsing, as you roll your hips once over him. His breath stutters, eyes widening as inches of him leave you, only to gently return moments later.
“G-good?” You ask, a self-conscious fear in your eyes.
His hands clamp on your waist and help to guide your movement.
“So good, you’re so good.” He rasps, the end of his lips curling up into a smile.
You smile back, rolling your hips again, taking him and out, following the pathway to your own pleasure and dragging him along for the ride. 
Your murmuring devolves into gasping moans as you continue to gyrate above him, squeezing your eyes shut, your fingers spread wide over his pectorals.
“That’s it. You’re alright, girl.” He urges, one hand moving from your hip to where you’re joined, his thumb parting your folds just above where he’s speared into you.
You moan aloud, giving no qualm to volume as he circles and presses against that little nub of pleasure.
“C’mon, sweetheart, you’re almost there.” He whispers as his hips jut upward into yours, he can see the far-off look in your eyes, the way your lips hang open, the shortness of your breath, and the slightly painful way your fingers are clenching into his chest. He can tell, your pulsing, squeezing, sweet little cunt is so close.
You ride him fast, like a horse at a gallop, and that blooming lava in his gut churns in a way that he knows he’s not far behind.
“A-Ar…” You stutter as your eyes close tightly.
“That’s it, that’s it, Darlin’.” He urges, his other hand tight on your hips, aiding your movement.
“Agh, oh god - Arthur.” You moan out, bottoming out completely as you throw your head back. He groans aloud as he feels your muscles constrict around his shaft, the sweet clutch of your cunt.
He thrusts his hips upward again and is rewarded with the sweetest mewl from your mouth, he cannot help but to whimper as he feels warm, wet slick start to seep from where you’re joined, his swollen and heavy balls covered in them.
You recover, gasping as your hands move to his chest, your hips grinding down on him slowly.
“I wanna-” you pant, catching your breath, “I wanna make you come.”
Arthur groans in response, hips bucking upward as his hands fly to your hips again, clenching them hard.
“Ain’t gonna- augh- ain’t gonna be hard to give you that.” He stutters out, knowing that the pull in his gut is getting stronger with each sweet movement you make.
“You’re so good -” You mewl, rolling your hips over him as he grunts, hands sure on your waist, fingers pulsing as his eyes flutter closed, his mouth hanging open as he approaches that precipice.
“You feel just like I’ve always dreamed.” You sigh, and all he can respond with is a thrust upward of his hips, to give you more, to give you himself, all that’s left of him.
He’s there, he’s there. His eyes shoot wide and he grunts, hands hard over your hips. “Get- you gotta, move.”
But you lean forward, not stopping the gentle roll of your body over his, and kiss his forehead.
“Come inside me.” You breathe, hands steady over his beating heart, “Give me all of you.”
Of all the stupid, childish things… but the resolve of a dying man, it is far less strong than before - weakening much like his ailing lungs.
“Please.” 
He does, he does.
He grunts needily as he pumps his release into you. Staying sheathed in your warmth, not jerking himself into cold air.
Arthur sits up immediately, burying his head into the side of your neck, and suckles gently at the skin there as your fingers start to play with the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck.
He regrets, it’s all he has left, that again, he wasted his time, glancing shyly at you across the fire for all those months. All he can do is offer you a few fleeting moments of pleasure. He regrets, it’s all he has left, that he cannot taste your lips and the sweetness he knows lies beyond them.
“Darlin’-” he trails off into your skin, trying to compose himself.
I’m sorry- I’m sorry this is all that’s left of me - sorry I can’t give you nothin’ but -
You place your lips on his forehead gently before pulling back. You cup his cheeks in your hands and nod your head.
“Let’s not waste any more time.”
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Note
Eddie, rockstar, who goes on tours and gets raunchy letters from his fans. it also happens to make his wife jealous. she decides she's gonna show him how much better she is than some stupid explicit fan mail 🤷 or something i know that's specific
omg I love this!!! And who doesn’t love rockstar Eddie 😍
I got a little excited with this one so I wrote a fic about it :p
I was thinking about doing something smutty but tb him a little burnt out with smut since its all ive focused on writing for the last couple of months and it's been pretty difficult to work on since I’m constantly around people
But I hope you enjoy this!
No Exceptions
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Genre- Fluff
Warnings- None :)
Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines, @esme-viridian, @munsonology
Word Count- 1.5k
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You glanced over at Eddie laid on his bed in the back of the tour bus as you heard him try to hide a little giggle. He and the other guys were in their separate quarters, opening and reading all the fanmail they had been sent over the last few weeks. 
Being a rockstar was a lot different than they had imagined it would be.
They thought it would be nothing but parties, girls, drinking and getting high whenever they pleased while just being able to hang out and jam for work. Instead it was full of long days of music writing and practicing, long drives to new venues, and barely any time for girls and weed. But Eddie didn’t need any other girl by his side while he had you. 
You always trusted him while they were out on the road, he wasn’t the type to cheat or lie to you, but usually the gigs they had were only a state away. A few hour drive maximum. This was the first time they were supposed to have a show nearly halfway across the country. And Eddie insisted you go along with them.
He was so happy that he was finally living his dream of being a rockstar, and with all the support you always gave him he wouldn’t dare want to experience this without you. The guys had no protests to him bringing you along, they loved having you around and always treated you with kindness and respect. Not to mention you could help find them the perfect girls while they’re out on tour. 
But over the last few hours the only stops they’ve made were at truck stops, gas stations, and fast food joints. Now they were just doing their own thing after getting a little bit of cabin fever and starting to get sick of constantly being around one another. They knew that was inevitable, especially being stuck on a cramped bus for hours on end, but for now they were all occupied with reading the dozens of letters they had gotten from their fans. 
They were excited to read them all and see all the wonderful things their fans had to say about them, not to mention how excited Gareth, Jeff and Grant got when they saw how many girls were DYING to see them and detailing all of the things they’d love to do if they ever got the chance. Eddie on the other hand always laughed at the letters he got that said things like that. 
Though Corroded Coffin was still a newer up and coming band, they had their own little group of fans that knew all about you and Eddie. 
You were that little groups power couple and they adored it whenever they saw you at a show, cheering on your man from right up front on the stage or watching him with loving eyes from backstage. Unfortunately, like all fanbases, there were a few girls who thought they would be able to steal Eddie away from you. Those were always his favorites. And lucky for you, he was giggling at the latest one he had just opened.
“What’re you giggling at?” You asked him with a smile before taking the letter from his hands and reading it to yourself, not being able to control the giggles in between nearly every word,
“’If I had the chance to spend just one night with you, I’d show you how insignificant that little groupie is and let you see what a real woman can do’?” You nearly burst out laughing just from reading it. 
“Wait, you didn’t even read the best part, look down at the bottom.” Eddie said in a fit of giggles as you laid next to him on his bed. 
You glanced down at the end of the letter and you could feel the tears start to prick the corners of your eyes,
“’From your most devoted fan, Sandra Murphy. P.S. I may be 44 but I promise I have the stamina of a 20-year-old.’” 
The two of you were laughing so hard your stomachs were hurting.
“I think she might have a better shot at Wayne than with me…” Eddie said as he tried his best to calm himself.
Those were always your favorite types of letters.
It had nothing to do with their age, how many shows they’ve been to, or how many times they’ve met the boys after a show, there was always that one handful of people who thought that no matter what they would be the one exception Eddie would make during your marriage They somehow assumed that he wanted anyone other than you. And that meant one of two things:
Eddie would ignore the letter and keep it in his collection of favorites, pulling it out whenever he needed a good laugh, or,
He would let you write back to them if they started to get threatening and always made sure to include a polaroid of the two of you.
He had his own little collections of all those letters.
He always kept all the letters from the fans that told him how much they looked up to him and all the little kids that would write to him and say how they wished they could be a rockstar just like him when they grew up. Letters from parents saying that his music was corrupting their children and turning them into satanic savages. Letters from crazed fans who were absolutely obsessed with him (those ones were usually put into a shredder). And of course, his favorites, the letters written to him by all the girls that thought with enough convincing they could get Eddie to leave you for them.
This one was definitely getting saved.
You slowly were able to calm yourselves down, a sharp turn made by the bus that almost knocked you both off the mattress was a big help for stopping the giggles, but you just couldn’t help it.
“I don’t know Eds, she sounds pretty convincing.” You said to him as you handed him back the letter, 
“Think you’re gonna take her up on her offer? I mean, I don’t want to step in between you and your ‘most devoted fan’.”
Eddie finished his giggles and tossed the letter away onto the floor as he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in close to him, the both of you secured on the bed to keep you from nearly tumbling off again,
“Oh please, its not the first letter I’ve gotten like that and it definitely won’t be the last,” He held you close to him, arms draped around your waist as your arms went around his neck, his lips sweetly kissing you as your bodies shook from another bump in the road, “and like I said, she seems more like Waynes type than mine…” 
You giggled once more and kissed him back, your hand moving up to gently hold the back of his head, your fingers carefully tangling into his soft curls,
“Maybe you should do him a favor and let him be the one to write back to her. You never know, they might really hit it off.”
Eddie smiled,
“You know, you’re right. I might have to give him a call at the next stop.”
“You’re gonna call him at the next stop no matter what!” You lightly slapped his chest, “You said you would call him at the last stop to check in and you never did! That was almost three hours ago Eds.”
“Alright, fine, I’ll call him when we get to the next stop.” Eddie raised his hand up, “Scouts honor.”
“Sweetie, you were never a scout, you can’t keep saying that.” You said with another giggle at your lips.
“Hey, if no one knows, it doesn’t hurt anything.”
You smiled with one another as you lay in bed, holding each other close in your arms as the gentle rocking of the bus was starting to lull you both off to sleep. It had already been such a long drive, and you knew you had a long while to go until you reached your destination. A nap couldn’t hurt anything. Eddie could always wait a little longer to call Wayne, he knew he’d be alright. 
For now, all he wanted to do was enjoy the scene unfolding around him.
Laying in bed with the woman he loved, on a tour bus with his best friends on their way to a new gig at a new venue in a new place. He was finally living out his dream and though he knew there was always a price to pay when it came to fame and fortune, specifically having to give up the freedom of his personal life, but as long as it meant he got to spend the rest of his days with you it didn't matter.
All those fangirls would get from him is seeing how much he loved and adored you.
And being able to show you off to everyone he could was his favorite part of his new rockstar life.
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risingsoleil · 2 months
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Fic Writer Interview
My lovely friend @sheepwithspecs tagged me here, and I will spread this by tagging @yellowsalt3 @linnorabeifong @vr-tb @chiefbeifongcanrailme
1. How many works do you have on ao3? 14!
2. What's your total ao3 word count? 414,633
3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Choices, Chances, Changes
You Are My Life
Talking to the Moon
The Other Side of Heaven
Lay All Your Love on Me
4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I definitely try to respond to comments! The fact that someone spent time and energy to comment means so much to me, and I want to acknowledge that. I'm not the best at leaving comments, but I'm trying to do it more often as a reader bc I, too, am often dying at how awesome fics are
5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
It's probably Meant To Be. Now that I think about it, I might write an extra piece for this fic just bc I feel like being salty lol
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
The Only Light We'll See - The whole fic was just an excuse to write steamy, smutty Linzin and let them have a happy life together. I guess you could argue that the main Linzin and family AU I write could also be one of them, but I haven't completed their story yet in this universe. Tbf, I don't think my Linzin AU has an "ending" but whatever happens, Linzin gets their happy ever after
7. Do you write crossovers?
Right now, I don't. But I was more open to writing crossovers when I was a kid.
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
I haven't thankfully, I have really awesome and sweet and kind-hearted readers in my circle 💞
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Hell yeah, I fucking do! It's prob one of my fav things to write 😂 Idk what they mean by "what kind" but I've written possessive, romantic and loving, quickies, foreplay, first times, and spontaneous stuff. It's fun and my otps tend to be...super horny vibes
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Nope.
11. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I haven't, but I would be interested in seeing one of my fics translated!
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes! It's Come As You Are with picajc and @alemanriq, and this holds a special place in my heart
13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?
404 error. I have too many, but for now it's Lin/Tenzin
14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
Probably Olvídame y Pega La Vuelta just bc I lost the vision for it
15. What are your writing strengths?
I think emotions are a big part of my writing process and it comes through in my fics. I channel my own emotions into my writing and it does leave a more profound impression.
16. What are your writing weaknesses?
Sometimes I want my writing perfect in the first draft, and it stops me from just enjoying the process. Recently, I've been wanting to write and that has manifested into writing for "results" rather than quality. I mean, I still try to write my best and for the fun of it. It's just that work sucks my energy and the time I have left for myself is recharging 😭
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I need more context with this question. Does this mean if I do something like this:
Lin and Tenzin raised their brows at the girl with the electronic device.
"어머, 죽겠다! 린베이퐁과 텐진 진짜 앞에 있다," she said aloud, though the language is not her mother tongue. "어떡해...인스타로 올리겠지"
In general, I would be open to it because it can open up new pathways for writing
18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Meet The Robinsons
19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?
I don't think I have one. For the most part, if I want to write for a fandom, I just do it lol
20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
Choices, Chances, Changes. I swear a divine force guided me into writing this bc I was so compelled to bring it to life. The updates were posted every few days, and the story was completely written in 6 months.
There were 21 chapters.
Also, it was the first fic I completed in like 14 years (omg I sound old now 💀)
Thanks @sheepwithspecs for tagging me! 💜
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When You Weren’t Looking — pt. 2/?
PROFESSOR!OBI-WAN KENOBI x READER
PART 1
an au where you and you literature professor realize you both have things to learn about love, and yourselves, outside of class. (as we all know, this can only be done through a big scoop of angst and a smutty cherry on top)
summary: you and obi-wan have begun to enjoy simply spending time together in his office
warnings: language maybe, tb to filler sentences i actually used in my essay rough drafts
a/n: not my fav but it’s little bit of a set-up for the next chapter which is when things get real interesting hehe. also i didn’t edit a lot sry :/ but if the spacing is weird it’s bc of tumblr not me lol
words: 1,342 once again a lil short
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It had been a couple of weeks since you’d begun to show up to Professor Kenobi’s office after every one of your classes with him. Your initial purpose for being there was just to file papers and organize things in his surprising very messy office. You had pegged your professor as someone who preferred for things to remain immaculate at all times, his beard always trimmed so neatly and his shirts always pressed to perfection. The more you thought about it though, the more it made sense.
It was a known fact, mainly due to his impromptu rants during class, that he loved what he taught. He breathed in knowledge and books, a true intellectual, and the articles scattered on every surface of his office were probably objects of comfort. The books, mugs drained of tea(many of which had horrendous puns), and various trinkets and collectibles such as labeled kyber crystals, all reflected his interests. He was familiar with his passions and it made his office safe and pleasant for him to be in.
While you still spent some of your time cleaning, most of your two hours with the professor ended up allowing you to rewrite your essay and finish assignments for other classes. He even let you grade some small homework assignments for him.
Anakin you’re out of a job
Professor Kenobi also felt that it was important to make sure you knew he was always there if you needed help. There was a sincerity to his offer that you appreciated. On occasion, he would even ask you for your opinion on something he had just read. The idea that he valued your opinions which could be considered amateur, flattered you immensely. These little here and their actions always spawned an engaging conversation—before he made you get back to work of course.
“fair enough,” you shrugged in response one time after he told you to start “dusting or…something” again. He let out a small breath of a laugh that made you feel warm.
Part of you felt like he always stopped the conversation when you had both begun to be truly invested in what the other was saying. That point usually came with neither of you finding the desire to break eye contact anymore. Sometimes you thought of his gaze for hours after you saw him, the gaze that you had committed to memory by now.
Your preferred spot in the office was a seat adjacent to his, a large oak desk in between you two. There was something about the way he leaned over that large oak desk though. He sat in a wooden swivel chair that presumably came with the table, to which he added a small back pillow. His glasses had slipped slightly down his nose, tie discarded in favor of unbuttoning the top of his collar. He looked exactly like the idea of a classic professor. You found something appealing about it. it didn’t project overt masculinity, and yet somehow it made him seem strong and whole, like he was made of the same polished oak. You couldn’t deny that noticing the maturity he wore was attractive.
Not to be a traitor to your generation, but the men your age weren’t men to you, not in a classic sense anyway. They were closer to your idea of boys, lacking the confidence and the thoughtfulness that showed in everything that your professor did.
You weren’t afraid to admit that it was a little bit hypocritical of you, seeing as how you weren’t exactly the most studious individual either. You didn’t think it was cocky to consider yourself smart, as did many of your teachers, but you were also pretty easily distracted and had to take a break from staring at your screen once you had begun to get too fidgety. Today you were pacing slowly around the room, the tips of your fingers reached out to glide along a surface or a book.
As long as I get my work done, which I always do
“I think you’ve done a few miles by now,” Professor Kenobi said. You could see the small upward tilt of his lips.
“I can't walk in here?” you asked playfully.
“Please, by all means, do what you like, but I can't help but ask, well, aren’t you tired of it by now?” He had turned to face you by now.
“busy thinking I guess,” your mind was in fact reeling at the moment.
“about?” he inquired.
“wouldn’t you like to know.” a teasing smirk on your face. You had grown bolder with each conversation you had with him. He had become more relaxed, easier to joke with. He had a dry and sarcastic humor. another thing you didn’t expect but found that it fit him.
“I would actually. I can never tell what you’re thinking, darling, but I’ve found it’s always something compelling,” That was a recent development. He had taken to calling you darling casually. You assumed it was just…British. They called each other “love” all the time in movies. He could call any woman darling, it was just an endearing term. Still, it made you feel special like you weren’t just another student, and you couldn’t deny that it always caused you to look at the floor in case the heat you felt was in fact a blush. But, that train of thought, of any…attraction, was a dead end you wanted to avoid, and yet you always failed to do so.
“Was that a compliment from the Professor Kenobi?” you pressed your hand to your chest in an exaggeratingly flattered expression.
“If you’d like it to be,” there was a tiny glint in his eye that you would’ve missed if you weren’t already studying how blue they were.
“Well then thank you, Professor,” you added a subtle tilt in your voice when you addressed him. you would never intentionally flirt with him, but it slipped out in such a way.
His cheeks had a fresh tinge of pink and he shifted slightly in his chair before clearing his throat.
“I do have another compliment for you though,”
“Oh I like this,” you laughed lightly.
“I’m already regretting this,” he jokingly rolled his eyes.
“Aww,” you responded in false disappointment.
“But y/n, in all earnest, you’ve made immense progress, and I’m very proud,” he smiled at you with such softness.
You smiled, filled with pride by the praise that had come from someone who you admired. That smile quickly dropped when you realized, how could he have read your essay? You had shown him some of it but that was at the very beginning when you had barely changed much.
“How could you know?”
“You do know I have access to your document since you already submitted it before don’t you?” Your eyes widened in horror as you thought about the very thing he started to mention.
“I do enjoy the filler sentences though,” he looked down at his laptop, presumably at your essay. He cleared his throat. “blah blah insert bullshit or quote later—“
“Oh my maker! That’s a total invasion of privacy!” You ran around to his side of the desk to look at what part of your essay he was on. You only realized few moments later that he had turned his head towards you as you leaned over his shoulder. His face was so close to yours, and his lashes so long that you swore they could brush up against your skin if you leaned in a bit further. Neither of you moved for a moment until… whatever that interaction was… was cut short by a buzz coming from his phone. He hesitated to turn away from you for a second before picking up his phone. saying hi to whoever was on the other end.
You noticed the clock behind him signaled that it was time for you to go. You gathered your things quietly and whispered a quick goodbye, to which he shot you a smile and a light wave. You returned the smile, and it stayed on your face as you walked out the door and all the way down the hall.
PART 3
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gekidasa · 5 months
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20 questions for fic writers
Thank you for tagging me, @jaimebluesq!
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 50!
2. What's your total AO3 word count? 133,410
3. What fandoms do you write for? MDZS, fairly exclusively right now. Aside from that: Cardcaptor Sakura is the fandom I first wrote fanfic for. I’ve written some X/TB, Tenipuri, Kamen Rider, some others. But to be honest, in most fandoms I don’t write much, if at all.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
And I will stay with you / And you will keep me close, which I just call the Sangcheng Roommates AU. This has stalled for reasons, but I do want to finish it. It’s a fun concept.
When a secret isn’t really secret, a Touya/Yuki fic! It’s actually just Yukito and Fujitaka talking about Yukito and Touya’s relationship, Touya is barely in it 😂
Heart-opening flow, my sangcheng yoga au, the first sangcheng fic I ever wrote.
The Half-Eaten Peach Longs to be Filled with Cream. Okay, I love this one. It’s sangcheng, and it’s porn.
Stay, also sangcheng. Modern au, first time they have sex. Technically it has the same rating as number 4, but it’s nowhere near as filthy.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes, I try to, because while I write fic for me, the reason I share it is in the hope of getting to have conversations with others that like the characters and ship as much as I do.
6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I mean, I don’t really do angst, but I suppose Yaguruma’s Hell because it’s Yaguruma thinking about how he’ll take Kageyama away and they’ll be together, and that’s just before, well. Spoilers for Yaguruma and Kageyama’s story in Kamen Rider Kabuto. It doesn’t actually go into the ending, it relies on you knowing what happens.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I really don’t know. I mostly write fluff, and most of them have happy endings.
8. Do you get hate on fics? I never have. I feel like mostly you don’t get hate if you don’t write for particularly popular ships in popular fandoms. Although, if I’d gotten into MDZS just 6 months or so earlier, I might have gotten hate by the infamous troll that went around harassing sangcheng fans.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Sure do! And well… I suppose you could say I often write FLUFFY smut, because it’s about characters that have strong feelings about each other, but I’d also like to think I write fairly dirty smutty (but not particularly kinky). Probably the best example of what I mean is Hold the doors, which is a nielan fic about Lan Xichen giving his neighbor that he just met, Nie Mingjue, a blowjob. It has been described as both filthy and soft.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Nope, not my thing, as a writer or reader.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Also nope.
14. What's your all-time favorite ship? Probably Touya/Yukito, because it’s about than the ship itself for me at this point. They’re what got me into CLAMP, and also what got me into shipping, and I made a fansite for them that was the first site I made of any kind and that is still online. They’re the reason I learned to code.
Or sangcheng. It maybe recency bias, but they've certainly gotten me to produce more fic than any other ship.
15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Isolated Incidents, a fic about Touya and Yukito kissing. It would have been fine if I had just made it a one shot about their first kiss, but instead I decided that it would have MORE, and that I'd explore the evolution of their relationship through different kisses. It was a good idea at the time, I'd just gotten actively back into CLAMP fandom, had recoded the Touya/Yukito shrine in modern HTML and CSS, and was rewatching Cardcaptor Sakura and writting short little fics for them again. But then December 2020 came, and I decided to read MDZS... and that pretty much took over my fandom life. There's MDZS fics I haven't worked on in quite a while, but since I'm still actively in this fandom, they aren't in "probably won't finish" territory.
16. What are your writing strengths? I think I write amusing stories, and I’m not embarrassed to write smut. Also, I think I tend to have fairly defined voices for characters.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? Consistency in the sense of sticking with writing a thing. Actual plot. Those go hand in hand. It’s very hard for me to write long fics for those reasons. I often have IDEAS for fics I really like, and I might sort of… loosely plot them out, but in no way enough to actually write most of them.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Unless you actually KNOW something of the language, just avoid it. You’ll probably make a fool of yourself otherwise.
19. First fandom you wrote for? Cardcaptor Sakura, Touya/Yukito.
20. Favorite fic you've written? I don’t have a favorite. Unsatisfying, I know.
Not tagging anyone,
Changed my mind! Tagging @mulberrylotus @telperintal @angie-s-g @revesdelimonade
Anyone else do it if you want to!
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mellowthorn · 8 days
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WIP Game
Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how nondescriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet and tell us about it!
Thank you for the tag @tragediegh!
I don't have all that many WIPs, and since I can be very fickle with projects, some of these might never see the light of the day. But here is my current list:
A Roomful of Memories - angsty oneshot set during Fool’s Quest
Before Dawn Rises - a sequel to After The Sun Has Set
Burrich AU - yet another post-Fool’s Fate AU, but this time Burrich survives
Nighteyes - Nighteyes POV oneshot set during the cabin era
Smutty smut - self-explanatory
LG/TB - another smut fic
Against Fate - AU in which Burrich refuses to let Fitz move up to the castle and takes him to Chivalry instead
Pretty sure most of my writer mutuals have been tagged already so I won’t bother tagging anyone this time.
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daydadahlias · 3 years
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okay wait upon skimming it's way more explicit than I remember but still god tier
I have heard literally nothing but good things about this writer (and I love what little I’ve read from them). This work is praised like gospel with my friends lmfao but dom/sub just ain’t my jam.
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turtle-steverogers · 3 years
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steve getting caught in the rain on the way home from work and barging through the front door bangs dripping and cheeks pink and bucky looking up from his spot on the sofa with alpine and thinking i’m fucked
so it's like 1 am and this was going to be something chaotic and smutty but it ended up being a view of steve's pain from the eyes of bucky
oop anway:
In From the Cold
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From Stevie: Left my key at home. Can you let me in?
Bucky gets the text right before there’s a knock at the front door, and he presses to his feet, shifting Alpine off his lap. It takes a moment to undo all the latches and locks, and by the time he does, Steve has knocked again-- sharper. Frantic. Bucky frowns and opens the door.
“Shit, Steve,” he says, and steps to the side to let Steve in past him.
He’s soaked, straight through to his skin. His hair is plastered to his forehead, clumped and stiff with sleet. His nose and cheeks are bright against his otherwise pale skin, and his lips are a tad blue.
He’s shaking. Hard.
It’s then that Bucky realizes that sleet is coming down outside, the sky blanketed a gloomy grey. The storm had been on the radar, but somehow he’d forgotten about it. Steve, it seemed, had forgotten as well when he’d left for his meeting that morning.
“Yeah,” Steve says, taking off his jacket. His movements are stiff and Bucky reaches out a hand, taking the soaked jacket from him before he can hang it on its hook. “Thanks.”
“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Go ahead and take off the rest of your clothes. I’ll throw them in the wash. Do you want a bath?”
Steve swallows, a shudder running visibly through him and Bucky doesn’t need a psych degree to guess what’s going on. Between the wet and the cold, this is hardly Steve’s preferred state to be in. There’s a vacancy in his eyes that makes Bucky’s blood run cold.
“Yeah,” he says. “Yes. Please.”
-
Bucky’s blood runs cold as a cough wracks Steve’s body, and he instinctively listens for a rattle in his lungs. The cough is not dry, though. Silver linings.
His hair is plastered to his forehead, and Bucky curses, reaching out to usher Steve inside. His clothes are soaked and sticking to his frame, hugging him in a way that seems to accentuate his size. Make him look even smaller. He coughs again.
“Jesus, you got a death wish?” Bucky hisses, hands working to unbutton Steve’s shirt-- get the wet fabric off, because it’s going to make him sick and Steve just got over his last fucking cold.
Steve bats his hand away, leveling him with a glare.
“No, shut up,” he says, and the harshness is dampened by the chattering of his teeth. He unbuttons his own shirt and tosses it aside, the bruises on his collarbone from a work mishap earlier that week stark and purple. Bucky wants to reach out and soothe his fingers over them-- kiss them away.
Instead, he goes to his closet and pulls out a clean shirt and some boxer shorts that will be too big on Steve, but at least they’re warm.
“I thought you were seeing your ma,” Bucky says, handing Steve the clothes. Steve strips naked right there in their hallway. He’s unabashed and it makes the lithe lines of his body all the more beautiful.
“I was,” Steve says. It’s clipped and Bucky’s gut twinges. Sarah had gotten sick a week or so ago-- an awful, wracking cough. Bucky had hoped, fucking prayed that it wasn’t the worst. But Sarah worked in a TB ward, and life didn’t seem so kind to the Rogers family. “They wouldn’t let me in.”
“Shit,” Bucky says.
Steve is dressed now, Bucky’s boxers barely clinging to his hips. He sits down on Bucky’s bed, and Bucky sits, too.
“Yeah,” Steve says, and he’s holding himself so tightly that Bucky’s afraid he might snap.
-
Steve holds himself tightly as he sits on the edge of the tub, his eyes on the rising water level, but mind clearly elsewhere. Bucky watches him for a moment as he returns from the laundry room-- watches his chest heave and hands tremble.
He is naked where he sits, and the way he hunches in on himself makes him look smaller. Bucky’s chest aches and he desperately wishes he could reach out and break the spell-- break the hold Steve’s mind seems to have on him right now. But he knows a thing or two about triggers, and he may not know what happened when Steve crashed that plane-- not details anyhow-- but he knows damn well that Steve still isn’t healed from that particular wound. It will likely follow him to his real grave. The pain. The fear. The damning finality of it.
-
And it seems like a final damnation. One not so beautiful as the perdition that was Steve taking Bucky into his body. But a much starker one. As unforgiving as a son losing his mother can be when he’s already lost his father. Steve says he hadn’t cared much when Joseph finally died-- his own faults pulling him under the current. But there’s a shame there that he can’t seem to quell. Regret that runs in the tightness of his eyes, smoldering and masked by a harshness that doesn’t fit the gentleness that is the skin of Steve Rogers. The soul and bones that are so hurt by a world keen on hurting them.
There’s a grief that wants to rise in Bucky’s own chest. Sarah doesn’t deserve this-- he wishes he could change it. Make it untrue. Make it better.
But he can deal with his own shit later. Right now, Steve is hurting and Bucky needs to coax him out of his shell. Lance some of that pain.
His hair is still dripping from the storm outside and Bucky reaches out, brushes his fingers through the sopping strands. Steve looks at him, eyes hollow and shining-- a strange dichotomy.
“Let me run you a bath?”
-
Steve sinks into the bath water, eyes closed as his chest hitches and stutters. He sinks down until the water covers his chest, stops at his chin. And it would be an endearing sight if he didn’t look so damn troubled.
Bucky hesitates.
“Do you want me here? Or would you rather be alone.”
Please God, he thinks. Please let me in. Let me stay. Let me shoulder some of your pain.
Steve’s jaw shifts, then clenches. He battles with himself, caught between the draw of comfort and his own internal walls telling him to close the gates.
Bucky waits.
“Can you wash my hair?” Steve eventually asks.
Bucky smiles. “Of course, pal.”
-
Bucky takes off his shirt so it won’t get wet and kneels by the edge of the tub. Steve leans back to wet his hair. It seems like instinct more than anything. His hair was already pretty damn wet. Bucky picks up the shampoo-- half empty and a little crusted around the cap-- and squirts some out onto his palm.
Lathering it up, he leans closer.
“Ready?”
“Mhm.”
“Close your eyes, sweetheart.”
Steve closes his eyes and Bucky begins to work the shampoo into his hair, pressing his fingers into his scalp, around his temples. Tension seems to ebb out of Steve in increments and Bucky is hopeful for a moment that he’s leaching out some of the shock.
And he must have taken away the numbness, because then Steve is sobbing, and Bucky is cursing softly as he strips out of the rest of his clothes, climbing into the tub behind Steve. He rinses his hair, and doesn’t bother with soft nothings. Because it isn’t okay. And Steve doesn’t deserve dismissal like that.
Instead, he pulls him close and buries his nose in his hair.
-
With practiced hands, Bucky works his coconut shampoo into Steve’s hair. It’s his favorite even if he won’t admit it and never buys it for himself. That’s alright, though. Bucky doesn’t mind sharing.
He feels Steve’s skin warm up-- rinses his hair with rhythmic and soothing touches, skittering his hands down Steve’s shoulders and across his chest as he goes, aiming to ground him. But Steve is not speaking and he is still shaking.
“Steve?” Bucky prompts gently.
Steve looks at him, gaze darting to his eyes, then his cheek, fixating there. A shudder rolls through him and he goes impossibly more pale.
“Fuck,” he whispers.
“Steve,” Bucky says again, alarmed, and then Steve’s chest is heaving as his breaths start to speed up. “Shit.”
Bucky strips off his clothes, and climbs into the tub with Steve, keeping a hand on him as he sinks into the water.
“Can I hold you?” he asks, and Steve manages a nod. He’s going to hyperventilate if they don’t get a hold of this now. Bucky pulls Steve back against his chest and buries his nose in his hair. “Breathe with me. Just feel me, Steve. Just feel me and breathe.”
Steve does.
-
Steve is worn out by the time they’re settling in bed, and Bucky shifts him so his head is on his chest. They’re quiet for a long time, watching the sun set, shadows moving across the ceiling.
“I’m scared,” Steve says, his voice hoarse from crying.
Bucky tenses. “I know.”
“I don’t want to lose her.”
Bucky closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
There isn’t anything for it. Bucky wants to promise that he won’t leave. That he’ll be there, but Steve knows that and reiterating it will only exacerbate the pain of those who can’t be there for him.
“I’m so tired,” Steve whimpers.
-
“I’m so fucking tired of this,” Steve says as he comes down, voice tight and teeth chattering. At least he’s breathing on his own now.
Then rest, Bucky wants to say. Come in from the cold. Let us help. Let people help.
“I know,” he says instead. “I know, honey. But you did so good just now.”
Steve shrugs. “Can we get out?”
“Sure thing.”
They dry off together, and settle into bed, naked still and wrapped up in each other. Steve settles on his chest, head tucked under Bucky’s chin. An age old position-- Steve will always fit right in Bucky’s arms.
-
Steve falls asleep with his hand clinging to Bucky’s. He usually looks more peaceful when he is resting, but now his mouth is turned down-- the lines of his face seem to deepen. He looks much older than he actually is, but Bucky has always sort of thought that. Steve, he thinks, has had to grow up too fast.
There’s a moment where Steve seems to drift awake, eyes opening then shutting again. He makes a soft noise and shifts closer to Bucky.
Bucky holds him and prays he feels held.
-
“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky asks.
“No,” Steve says. It was worth a shot.
“Okay,” Bucky says. “Can I do anything?”
Steve swallows, arms tightening around Bucky’s middle. “Just hold me?”
“Of course,” Bucky says, and he hitches Steve closer, kisses the top of his head.
“This helps,” Steve whispers, and Bucky holds his breath. “You holding me. It feels safe.”
“I’m so glad,” Bucky says. His throat feels tight and he ducks his head to kiss Steve’s temple. It settles something in him, knowing Steve feels safe in his arms. “I’ll always hold you.”
-
thanks for reading, chiefs!
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paulsonsratched · 2 years
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Masterlist
I take requests for any character of Sarah. I am not the best writer, I’m still learning and usually do it to compensate my emotions 🙈✨
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Cordelia Goode:
Wilhemina Venable:
Billie Dean Howard:
(Character of your choice. I imagine it to be Billie)
Ally Mayfair-Richards:
One Shots:
(Billie Dean Howard, Wilhemina Venable, Cordelia Goode)
(Billie Dean Howard, Wilhemina Venable, Cordelia Goode)
(TB Karen, Wilhemina Venable, Billie Dean Howard)
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the-fiction-witch · 1 year
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What Happened Last Night? P2
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Media TMR
Characters Newt & Minho
Couple Newt x reader X Minho
Concept Drunken Threeway aftermath
Smut fingering/ breast play/ making out/ sexual discussion/ ‘cum’ / baby doll / princess 
I blushed hard, almost bright red as the boys forced me down on my back, both of them sitting up leaning over me like wolves to prey. 
"What do you remember from last night?" Minho smirked 
"Not much, just drinking a whole lot after dinner" I blushed 
"Awww min she really doesn't remember what she did to us?" Newt Cooes leaning on Minho a little 
"Guess we'll have to jog your memory" Minho smirked “Well it started baby with you getting a little too much of gally’s moonshine, gally being so busy he forgot to cut our little baby girl off before midnight, you put on quite a show for the boys doing your cute little dances in the sand by the fire.” Minho explained “Humm you got every boy in the glade hard, wouldn’t you agree newt?”
“Absolutely, I saw many boys having to run off after watching you dance princess.” he cooes “Humm and after you finished your little dance min and I headed to the showers given we had been busy working hard all day”
“Some harder than others”
“Don’t start minho” newt snapped “So we went and had ourselves a nice hot shower until a cute little princess popped in desperate for attention. And how could she deny such a cute little princess.”
“Especially when she stripped her clothes off and jumped in the shower with us.” 
“I did-”
“You did princess, stripped completely naked and climbing in the shower with us.” 
“And how were we meant to resist that. So I locked the door up and we… had some fun.” Minho smirked slipping his finger inside me making me gasp 
“Humm fun? What min means is princess when you stripped off and climbed in our shower he locked the door and we bent you over.” newt growled kissing my neck as he too slipped a finger inside me it was strange feeling both of them having their fingers inside me it wasn’t like someone having two I could feel the small differences, minho’s softer hands then newts, newt’s longer thinner fingers then minho’s and they worked differently newt slow and sly stroking little places to find what made me reach where as minho worked faster and stronger keeping at this strong pace 
“UHHHHHHH!” I groaned gripping the sheets tightly as they worked 
“Not at first,” Minho corrected. “At first our cute little baby girl got on her knees and sucked us off.”
“Of course, how could I forget? It was slight princess you knelt naked on the shower floor”
“with both our cum dripping out your mouth” minho growled fondling my breasts 
“Who got to finish first?” I asked 
“I did” Newt smirked seeming proud of himself 
“Sorry minho” I blushed
“Its alright babydoll, I got to fondle your tits while you sucked him off, and you made sure later I got to cum inside you first” he smirked speeding up his hand and so did newt 
“Ughh- uuuuuuuhhhh!” I squealed “Boys please-”
“I think” Newt smirked pulling his hand back and licking his finger clean “The best way to remind her what she did to us last night, is to repeat last night”
“I couldn’t agree more” minho smirked the two climbing out my bed pulling me out with them to kneel on my floor
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Note
Can we pretty please get a sneak peak of TB&TB chapter??? please🥺
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So, I do not have another smutty sneak peek for you, but I can offer you something in these trying times.
TB&TB Part 21 Sneak Peek Below 🐇
(see the first one here)
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I was in a good mood. It was understandable. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and it had certainly been true for the few hours we’d spent apart. But as I threw the heavy wooden door open, I was all too ready to see him again. Unfortunately, what waited for me on the other side were two people who were not Spencer. “Good morning, Profe— Ah!” “Ah!” the blonde woman screamed back instantaneously. My first observation of her was remarkably brief. She’d been colored so brightly that my instinct drove me away from the aposematic signals… and led me straight to the incredibly handsome, notably warm, and equally unfamiliar man next to her. He didn’t yell. Instead, his eyes merely narrowed like he’d been looking at something he felt he should recognize but couldn’t place. It wasn’t until she spoke again that the world began moving at a normal pace again. “Oh my gosh, wait!” she cried, “I know you!” Simultaneously, the man and I both responded with a shocked, but hesitant “You… do?” Her display had been convincing, to say the least. Her whole body was bouncing, her arms waving as she tried to find the words to explain the epiphany she’d reached while we all stayed staring dumbfounded at one another. “Yes! You’re— You’re the girl! You’re Spencer’s Bunny!”
TB&TB Returns Sept 1st!
(no more sneak peeks until then, I'm afraid!)
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deepspacedukat · 2 years
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Current Requests
These are the requests I have received and am currently working on. I’ll update this post as needed, so if there’s a question of whether tumblr ate your ask, please check here first. These are what I have currently, NOT NECESSARILY THE ORDER IN WHICH THEY WILL BE POSTED.
Last Updated: 4/18/24
Fic/Drabble Requests:
- Damar (ST:DS9): Smutty sequel to “Tiny Dancer.” (Anon request) - Preliminary Title “Warm Me Up”
- Kov (ST:ENT): Pon Farr smut. (Anon request) - Preliminary Title “Calm Veneer”
- Q (ST:TNG/DS9/VOY): Paris smut (Requested by android-boyfriends) - Preliminary Title “Paris or Bust”
- Malcolm Reed (ST:ENT): Request was for anything, so this will be a comfort fic (Anon request) - Preliminary Title “Restorative Properties”
- Keevan (ST:DS9): Artsy s/o (anon request) - Preliminary Title “Brushstrokes”
- Gul Madred (ST:TNG): Dark, kinky smut (horta-in-charge) - Preliminary Title “Interrogation”
- Dukat (ST:DS9): Female Vulcan!Reader smut (virtually-vulcan) - Preliminary Title “Armored Contradiction” (potentially more than one chapter, because brain)
- Weyoun (ST:DS9): Smut with glowing eyes (azorastarr) - Preliminary Title “From The Dark”
- Shran (ST:ENT): He tries to teach the reader some Andorian (Anon Request) - Title TBA
- Shran (ST:ENT): He tries to teach the reader Andorian customs (Anon Request) - Title TBA
- Colonel Lovok (ST:DS9): Corrupts Federation officer reader while the two are in Dominion prison (anon request) - Title TBA
- Romulan/Human headcanons: fluffy - I’m doing some general, and some more character-specific. (Anon Request)
- Picard (ST:TNG): His girl is a security officer who likes music/painting, etc. (Anon request) - Title TBA
- Milton Dammers (The Frighteners): Auditory-tactile synesthesia (Anon request) - Title TBA
- Koval (ST:DS9): “Trepidation” style riff but without the established relationship (bigblissandlove1) - Preliminary Title “Catch, Release, Repeat” (2 or 3 parts)
- Major Hayes (ST:ENT): Werewolf AU (horta-in-charge) - Preliminary Title “When All The Moons Are Full”
- Telepathic virus AU (horta-in-charge) - Title TBA
- Q starts an experiment house with multiple characters (bigblissandlove1) - Title TBA (and probably more than one chapter to get the proper effect)
- Shran x Reader x Weyoun - Sharing her for “diplomacy” 👀 (Anon request) - Preliminary Title “Temporary Alliance”
Mini Drabble/Ficlet Requests:
- Kov or Mestral smut (multiple numbers) - Title TBA
- Dukat + 98 +136 smut (Anon request) - Preliminary Title “Beneath”
Plot Bunny WIPs:
- Mirror!Malcolm Reed (ST:ENT): Malcolm convincing Prime!Reader to let him do smutty things.
- “The Only One” Parts 7-11
- Brunt (ST:DS9): Smut - Don’t look at me like that/I blame Jeff. - Preliminary Title “Everyone Has Their Price”
- Boheeka (ST:DS9): Dabo Girl!Reader smut - Preliminary Title “The New Girl”
- Hemmer (ST:SNW): Fluff based off a quote of his - Preliminary Title “To Fix What Is Broken”
- Weyoun (ST:DS9): Defector!Reader serves at Weyoun’s pleasure (smutty of course) - Preliminary Title “Serving”
- Dukat (ST:DS9): Fic based off “Natural” by Imagine Dragons - Preliminary Title “Natural”???
- Weyoun (ST:DS9) + Dukat (ST:DS9): Threesome imagined by some cursed part of my brain and inspired by tagthetrekkie - Preliminary Title “What We Do In The Dark”
- Pre-Surak Soval (ST:ENT): uh...don’t know how to describe this besides smut with mild plot - Preliminary Title “Enantiomers” (multi-chapter)
- Shran & Soval (ST:ENT): 3 way smut after the events of “Kir’shara” - Preliminary Title “Atonement”
- Shran (ST:ENT): Smut based around “Cease Fire” S2E15 - Preliminary Title “Amidst The Ruins”
- Shran (ST:ENT): Pon Farr style Andorian heat inspired by an anon ask - Preliminary Title “Heat”
- Shran (ST:ENT): Secret collab fic with android-boyfriends 👀🤫
- Milton Dammers (The Frighteners): General fluff - Preliminary Title “Special Agent”
- Sumner Cavic (Urgency): Smut - Preliminary Title “Hey, Neighbor”
- Admiral Savar (ST:TNG): Plot TBA - Preliminary Title “First And Foremost”
- Mirror!Shran (ST:ENT): Smut, a lil fluff, and a lot of emotions (3-ish chapters) - Preliminary Title “Mirror, Mirror On The Wall...”
- Letant (ST:DS9): Chin’toka continuation (multiple chapters) - Preliminary title “Romulus” (Ch. 1 Title “Temrhae (Beginning)“)
- Solok (ST:DS9): “Reluctantly Primal” sequel, ready room smut - Preliminary Title “Private Orders”
- “Praetor’s Pride” Part 6-12?
- Dukat (ST:DS9): Enemies to lovers, captive/captor (multiple chapters) - Preliminary Title “Captive”
- Letant, Koval, Vreenak, S’Talon: SMUTTY SMUT (inspired by bigblissandlove1) - Preliminary Title “Friendly Competition”
+ About 20 more plot bunny drafts I’m too lazy to add rn. They will be added in due course, but for now, surely this list has enough to keep your thoughts occupied...?
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storiesofsvu · 2 years
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23 from the fanfic ask?
23. Fic you wanted to write but didn’t?
Obvi there are a lOT of series on the docket that i just need to keep calm and brainstorm and write notes on so I’m ready for, but the ones I’m most excited for are:
Rita calhoun mob boss AU, going up against Nevada Ramirez
A SVU x True blood crossover (ish…ie…using the vampire, supernatural plot points of TB in the svu universe) and yes…rita is a vampire….she might be the queen…there might be some criminal minds characters presence in this one as well, we’ll see.
I abandoned a Dodds fic halfway through that I do intend to come back to.
As for one shots…I have a VERY spicy Rita x reader one with dialogue prompts still waiting
A Daddy Jackie x mommy heather x yn threesome for Xmas bingo
A Rita x her coyote yn x amanda threesome that was meant for fall bingo but never happened
And I MAY OR MAY NOT be thinking about a derek Morgan x yn x Emily prentiss smutty one shot, where she’s just absolutely destroying you and he’s cooing about how good you’re being all “baby girl you’re doing so well” in your ear… 👀
Anyways…
Thanks for the asks! 😊
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kmclaude · 4 years
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An AU thought, unfinished: Annemarie as a nun. Not a sexy nun, but someone found out about the whole “preggers with her brother’s baby and sent to a convent as punishment” type nun, who may or may not wind up teaching a bunch on unruly kids and has her fellow sisters breathing down her neck to make sure she doesn’t sin again. But hey, guess who’s the priest/confessor for the order? And considering nuns “have” to obey Fr. Tiefer’s authority…! Not smutty but it’s all I’ve got 🤷🏼‍♀️
oh how decadent! oops my hand slipped!!!
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Émile is probably the one who gets mad when he finds out she’s pregnant and who’s kid it is because sure he’s white trash and has been bending his daughter over for years but he draws the line somewhere (and part of it is because he knows Emilein is a freak, he knows he wouldn’t want her so it’s obvious she’s the whole reason for being knocked up – and she’s been using the stupid baby in her fat gut as a shield to mouth off to him and run the joint – why not punish her? Besides, no one in that family can afford another mouth to feed…)
So he pulls Emilein aside, says, “hey, you’re good with that priest, yeah?” and Emilein shrugs, says, “maybe I am,” and braces for a nasty shot about how of course he is, he loves being on his knees, but it never comes, just, “so he knows about like…them wayward girl schools, yeah?” and Emilein plays dumb until his daddy plays his hand: send Annemarie off to a convent or wayward school or hell an asylum – she wants to use a baby to get her way, well then she can get out of the way. Forever.
Emilein, for once, is more than happy to help his daddy out.
He talks to the priest, Fr. Michaud, who has offered him chance and again ways out, one in particular though it would mean the priesthood, and reveals his sister is pregnant (not that it was terribly secret: the whole town was waiting for the day she slipped up at this point) and she is…troubled. And is there a place. The Church. Anything.
Of course Fr. Michaud hesitates because yes there is one nearby but it’s practically an asylum, run by an order on their grounds – cloistered – “And, to be frank, we all know your sister is…not exactly saving herself for anyone…but unless she’s a-a maniac it would be almost cruel–”
And Emilein puts his hand lightly on Fr. Michaud’s, smiles in a way that doesn’t meet his eyes, and says, “You know how she hasn’t named the father? You’d think someone like her’d be going up and down the street, demanding a wedding or at least support, wouldn’t you? But she ain’t. ‘Cause she can’t. Now, remember the first time we actually talked, you an’ me, an’ I told you I’d suck your cock in a heartbeat ‘cause that’s usually how things went with me an’ older men an’ not always by force?”
“Difficult to forget,” says Fr. Michaud, neglecting to mention that most fourteen year olds don’t say that.
“So we both agree I’m…funny.”
“What are you getting at, Emilein?”
“I’m sayin’, the reason she ain’t beatin’ down no po’ bastard’s door to help with her own bastard is ‘cause she doesn’t want anyone to know that the daddy’s her own brother.”
Michaud goes pale and Emilein isn’t smiling any more.
“We both know she don’t interest me much. So, Father, please: help me.”
Of course, being a good man, Fr. Michaud helps him, and Annemarie is sent away to have her child (and then work off the debt she’ll have accrued – after all, not like her father and brother can afford to pay.)
Her choice is very simple: go as willingly as she can pretend and nobody has to know about who the father is or fight and Emilein tells (with Fr. Michaud as a witness – Émile, of course, is more than willing to rat her out but really, every other word from his mouth is a lie.)
And life is peaceful – until Émile decides he can fully boss around his son like he did his daughter in a house he doesn’t own.
Emilein is having none of it but Emilein is terribly small and Émile has friends too, friends just as nasty as Annemarie’s boyfriends, and Émile ties him to a bed and starves him and lets all sorts of men use him for days and brags about the money he’s made from him – “shit, cher, we should’ve been whorin’ you out years ago! Guess yer cunt sister was just too jealous to share.”
He lets him go, eventually, after a week that feels like forever and Emilein runs to Fr. Michaud, banging on the church door, and when Fr. Michaud answers his request is much the same as it was before: “please, help me.”
Of course, being a good man, Fr. Michaud helps Emilein Tiefer and gets him connected to the seminary.
At twenty-five and with the title of ‘Father’ himself, Tiefer is assigned to a convent in Fuckoff Nowhere, Louisiana to be the priest and confessor on the grounds. Segregated from the opposite sex and the real world for so long only to be thrown headfirst into the wide world, some were realizing, was not the greatest idea: so, the younger were sent off to serve their religious siblings first, particularly their sisters.
The Mother Superior is kind when she greets him on his arrival, a stark contrast to all the rumors of the convent here: it was a convent, yes, that made its daily bread with something of a home for wayward girls – part home, part school (for the younger ones whose unfortunate choices and circumstances left them behind their peers as well as their children, for those who had or expected them), part workhouse so the former two could survive – but for years its nickname had been the asylum because, regardless of how long one worked, much like the TB asylums, the only way out was in a casket.
Which is where, Tiefer always figured, his sister was at this point. 
Until, during a tour of the small school on the grounds (as the children would be needing sacraments as well) he sees one of the nuns with the children – though she’s not a nun, not exactly, as she only wears a veil and simple dress and the bangs of her blonde hair peak out and frame her face – and she, in turn, sees him and freezes.
“Mother Superior,” he asks, voice steady as possible, once they’ve passed, once he’s calmed down, “who was that woman?”
“With the children? That’s Sister Anne, one of our success stories – quite a tough one too. She came here, pregnant, no idea who the father was and ready to dare I say fight every one of us sisters who came near. But the Lord works in mysterious ways and eventually He brought her ‘round. She should be taking her vows in a few years.”
“Ah. Do many of your girls usually wind up joinin’ the order?”
The mother superior sighs, sort of pointed in a way that hints that the topic is better put to rest. “Unfortunately, it’s not always part of God’s plan,” she says and then adds, “You sound a lot like she does – how far down South did you come?”
“Very.”
“Hm. She also.”
“Sister Anne. A word?”
After all the introductions and required niceties are made, Tiefer doubles back to the classroom of children, led by the novitiate.
“Of course, Father,” she says, the shock from earlier long gone from her face, a little more lined than he’d remembered it, her eyes a little less bright.
“In private?”
He lets her lead the way to a small, unused classroom and locks the door behind them.
“Well. Never thought I’d see you here, Sister.”
She scoffs, the plain novitiate from earlier twisting, like a monster under flesh, into his sister, the way he knew her, cocky attitude and all. “Why not? You put me here.”
“You know what I mean. ‘Sides, he put you here.”
“You helped.”
“Just told the truth is all. You want me to tell the truth again?”
“Can’t send me away again, sugar. Anyway, I’m a changed woman. The success story of these sisters.”
“Ain’t you special, huh?”
“Had to be. Play along or die like the rest.” She looks him over, sixteen years on his twenty-five, sizing him up. “You obviously understand, don’tcha Emi?”
“Father, now, actually.”
“Father, right, Father, now, huh? So Father – what was it? Not enough dicks to suck back home, you had to join the biggest boy’s club around? Or you just get sick of Daddy – bet he was a real sonuvabitch once he didn’t have me ‘round to take his shit out on.”
He cuts her off: “Annemarie. You like it here?”
“You like it where you are?”
He doesn’t answer, simply pulls out a cigarette and his lighter. He watches her reach out, then freeze.
“I’ll share if you tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ playin’ nunnery.”
“I told you. Play along or die. Same as you.”
“You don’t know shit about me or what I been through.”
“An’ you know ‘bout me?”
Tiefer shrugs, lights up. Refuses her one.
“I heard the girls who come here only leave one way.”
“Do I look like I left?”
“Mm.” He offers her a cigarette and a light. Her fingers brush his. He tries not to grab her wrist and crush it. “So this is better? Bein’ a mother to a slew of bastards an’ prayin’ to God who put you here?”
“I dunno, Emi–”
“Do not–”
“Father Emi, you tell me: would you like being worked like a dog to pay off your own existence your fuckin’ family sold off, gettin’ beat ‘cause no one gives a damn about you, and not knowin’ if the priest they brought in to hear confessions this ‘round would rather you suck him off than say you’re sorry. I’m fuckin’ forty-one years old: I wanted something close to freedom, even if it’s from behind a wall an’ veil. ”
Tiefer makes a sound like mock pity. “Sounds like every damn day of my childhood, Annemarie. In fact,” – he grabs her by the jaw, pulls her close, tugs the cigarette from her lips and puts it out against the back of her neck, hidden by her veil – “looks to me like you’re getting off easy, little miss success story.”
“Em–”
“That’s Father to you, now.  An’ come to think of it, I’m sure Mother Superior would love to hear what you really did.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Would they put you back in the work house? Or just turn you loose on the streets like a dog. Where you gonna go, Sister? Y’all take vows of poverty last I heard – gonna finally be a real whore and suck dick in the gutter?”
“Please…”
“Please what, pity you?”
Tiefer lets her go, takes a drag from his own cigarette, blocking the door. He grins, more a snarl than anything else. 
“Oh Annemarie… You’re right: I wouldn’t dare as long as you don’t give me a reason to. I’m your superior now…let’s start treatin’ me as such, hm?”
He unlocks the door. “An’ Sister Anne? If you thought those other priests who put your ol’ ass on your knees were bad, you’re gonna really regret all your earlier sins against me.”
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How did you first get immersed in writing Western AUs? Yours have turned out really well!
I used to fiddle with little western stories in my teens just because I had a bit of thing for some westerns at the time. And some actors that had been in westerns. And some songs with strong western themes. It was history and it was cattle and landscapes and those are all things I love thinking and reading about.
And of course it can be tb too, and if there is any human disease that stimulates my brain...
The first fic series I ever posted was actually a Sherlock western AU because I had Thoughts about livestock disease eradication and a western AU seemed like a good way to play with that.
But January of last year I got really interested in Doc Holliday again. I read a lot of stuff (actual history and historical fiction and a very smutty western) and I wrote Running Through the Rain but I still had feelings and ideas that I hadn’t dealt with. So I wrote one-shots, but they weren’t enough. Digging Up Bones is sort of a western, and that happened accidentally. Then @rjdaae sent me the prompt that became Soft Place to Fall. But there were still things I wanted to explore (especially around illness, but also music and queerness and intimacy and I had mental images too that I hadn’t dealt with) and when @wheel-of-fish sent me that Charoga prompt a week ago...well it seemed like a good idea to deal with them. It happened accidentally but 20,914 words later here I am, with just one piece left to post for the Delta stories. And I feel deeply satisfied.
I don’t know if I’ll write any more westerns after this. I might! There are a couple of images and still an idea or two that I haven’t explored. But for now I am very satisfied.
And thank you for asking!
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