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#i am gonna do that tag game and respond to ask
simpregular · 2 months
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I'm fighting demons (maladaptive daydreaming)
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kakusu-shipping · 2 years
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I want to do F/O match ups but I’m so bad at reading compatibility so we’re gonna do something simple I super totally could not misread.
Send me a bit about yourself and I’ll give you a Husband from 10 Billion Husbands
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kafkasmuses · 5 months
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girlnextdoor
( chapter one :
studyme.png )
words: 3,525
tags: 18+!!!! mdni , camgirl ! reader , camming, sex worker ! reader , masturbation , falling in love , body worship , religious / greek imagery , voyeurism, semi ! sub coriolanus , fantasizing
p.s : this is also on my ao3! ( divider by i92-93 )
a/n : i don’t know how i managed to make this an emotional story with greek references, but i did it somehow LOLL hope u enjoy!!
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PROLOGUE : COMPETITION .
festus had an irrational mouth, he had dared coriolanus to do stupid things before, like asking girls out, or to have one night stands with them. it was awful, coriolanus hated being around festus because he was like a fly buzzing around in his eardrums, circling around his head and refusing to leave no matter how many times he swipes at it. coriolanus wasn’t the only victim unfortunately, sejanus was the main one for festus, because sejanus was weak, pliant, and could easily be peer pressured into anything.
“i dare you to ask her out,” he points to a girl in the library, a girl with clemensia and arachne.
dear fucking god, save us all, this is going to be a crucification performed in the middle of the academy’s library.
“you’re joking, right?” sejanus coughs out an awkward laugh.
festus’ eyes narrow, a dangerous seriousness, “no, it’s not that hard.”
“why don’t you do it then?” coriolanus slices in the conversation.
“i have a girlfriend,” festus shrugs, “can’t.”
coriolanus barks out a bitter laugh, “who would date you?”
“okay, that’s fucking rude, and she’s hella hot, so fuck off, please,” festus rolls his eyes, “go on, sejanus!”
sejanus frowns, festus was talking so loud that the girls were now looking at them, with their judgemental, pristine stares.
so he sighs, and raises to a stand, making coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he knew sejanus was weak, impulsive, but not to this level, “you aren’t actually gonna do it, are you?”
“i am,” sejanus sounds confident, but he isn’t. poor, sweet sejanus.
what a trainwreck, like something you try to hard to look away from, but you just can’t. your eyes follow him as he moves over to the girls, a small smile curving his lips when he finally approaches them, an opposite to their sharp eyes. clemensia’s head tips to the side, “yes, sejanus?”
sejanus inhales, trying to remind himself that he does have a way with words, so just use that.
his eyes move down to you, “i was wondering if—“
“no,” you respond quickly.
he swallows, “okay.”
and festus is laughing, god it’s more of a cackle than a laugh.
but the girls don’t laugh, they know festus’ game, if anything they hate festus more than any of the poor boys that are dared to ask them out for dates.
“who’s your girlfriend?” coriolanus asks, having a feeling that he’s lying.
festus’ laughter immediately calms down, “she’s a pornstar, and she’s like super in love with me.”
“does she even know you exist?” coriolanus scoffs, “‘m sure she’s just doing her job.”
“shut the fuck up,” he rolls his eyes, “you’re just mad you could never get with a girl like mine.”
“let me see her,” coriolanus offers, and of course, festus pulls up a picture of a girl who hardly shows her face.
you can only see her lips, and from then on she’s in very tight and revealing clothing, coriolanus stares at the picture for a second, then looks at festus.
festus smirks cockily, “hot, right?”
hot, is that all he views his so called girlfriend as?
“you can’t even see her face,” he confronts, and festus rolls his eyes.
“that’s not the point—“
“then what is?”
“her videos, dude, they’re so good,” festus’ voice becomes a loudly hushed whisper now.
coriolanus’ jaw ticks, “you sure she even knows you?”
“okay, she doesn’t— but like—“ he groans, “why don’t you try to get her to notice you, asshole?”
“i don’t watch porn,” coriolanus shrugs simply.
festus coughs out a laugh, “yeah, say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
coriolanus, in his own defense, should be saying that it was curiosity. at first it was, yes, pure innocent, unshielded curiosity. then it became what it truly was underneath all of his guards, admiration. with each video, each picture, it had his teeth gritting. he didn’t want to pay to see your exclusive content at first, but with how little you showed on every other platform, it almost felt necessary. girlnextdoor, what a peculiar name, he was itching to know more about you.
maybe it was the competition festus had set him up for that had him wanting this, coriolanus was never one for porn, or for jerking off. but god, he might now be. it was disgusting, how much his mind raced with every suggestive picture, ones where you teased the contents underneath your bra, or a video where you were taking off your panties but still showing nothing.
he went back to your original website, only to find, in bold letters, LIVE.
live? he swallows thick, cursor moving to click on the maroon enticing him.
the sight that came nearly had him clicking off almost immediately, you had been moved into a cowgirl position, riding a dildo. your moans filled his eardrums almost immediately, each whine, each movement of your hips delivering a squelching sound. he felt like a dehydrated man, throat run dry, tongue devoid of any saliva. aphrodite, in her natural habitat, sex, love, devotion, she is putting herself on display— yet with the camera placed to show everything only from below her nose, she is so hidden at the same time.
he was biting the delicate skin on the inside of his cheek, peaking near the metallic taste, but he didn’t even realize over the heat rushing to his dick. he breathed out, wondering what it would feel like if you were to be on him, with those experienced hips, that body which looks like it was crafted from the gods himself, your pussy swallowing his dick whole—
he clicks off as soon as the thought sears in his mind, he doesn’t need to be thinking of a pornstar like this.
his eyes close for a minute, and all he can see in that darkness is the shape of your body, the bucking of your hips as you ride the dildo, and he sighs.
he should sleep. it’s late.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
INTERLUDE : HAUNTED .
adoration, a statue by stephen abel sinding, made from delicate marble. it depicted a man at a woman’s feet, as she sat upon a pedestal. he was on his knees, eyes staring up at the goddess in front of him, as she sat with her back straight, eyes falling upon the man that worshipped her. he kissed her legs with care, admiration, hands slipping onto her calves as he plants his lips upon her shins. she was gorgeous above him, allowing him to take every part of her into his hold, to kiss her and devote his whole pride to her.
coriolanus swallows thick, he thought that when his eyes moved to a close, his thoughts would dissipate.
they got worse, so, so much worse. they were more vivid now, dirtier, his longing worsening.
he imagined what words would spill from your mouth as your hips swayed on him, he allowed you to take the lead, restraining himself from fucking into you like a desperate man. to be honest, he was desperate, he was needy, the feeling of your puffy walls closing in on him had him almost whimpering himself. a god is no match to his goddess, he will always fall to his knees in front of her, no matter what. coriolanus had pride, surely, but the idea of your clit rubbing against his abdomen as your hips stuttered on him had his pride becoming weak façades.
say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.
fuck you, festus. he was the reason that coriolanus even knew this camgirl existed, the reason for the painful stains on his mind.
festus wouldn’t be so cocky if the girl he calls his girlfriend had coriolanus’ dick in her mouth.
the feeling of your mouth on his dick became vivid as well now, he could see it so clearly, your doe eyes staring up at him through those velvet lashes as your pillow lips move to press sloppy, open - mouthed kisses onto the tip of his cock. you were teasing him, surely, and he couldn’t take it. he would grit out a small plea for you to actually suck him in, and he would feel your lips curl onto his tip, “beg.”
begging, coriolanus always hated the idea of it, he thought it was weak, gross, submissive.
but in this moment, he was so clouded with lust that he didn’t care for the repercussions of a simple please.
“please, just fucking— god, i need—“ he couldn’t even get his words right, it was sweet. your eyebrow cocked at him, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you through dilated pupils and lazy lids. you finally took pity, lips parting further so your tongue could snake out and slide underneath his cock as you take him in finally. the warmth was all too much for coriolanus, wetness, warmth, his fingers move to thread through the weaves of your hair, his bottom lip falling tight underneath his top teeth.
his hips buck ever so slightly, again, desperation. you don’t react though, if anything, you just moaned around him.
no gag reflex? dear god, you’ll be coriolanus’ ruin.
god will not be present in this moment though, as though this is a reenactment of the martyrdom of saint sebastian. arrows shooting at him as he falls to his fate, he was strung up, shot with the painful spears, and left for his death. isn’t that so alike to now? festus had tied him up, fed him stories of this woman and allowed him to fall into sin, then left him for his own demise.
apples began to taste sweeter, even with their poison, as coriolanus finds his hand dipping below his waistband, his long fongers fell along his painful hardness. he mumbled a curse into the gentle air as he finally relieves himself from all of his sins, as of he’s sitting in the confessional of a church, whispering all of his sins to the judgemental priest. the scales tipped as his fingers moved to curl around his cock, fist moving up and down on his length.
the pictures continued, he thought of how he would take care of you first, now if he was the one dominating.
he would go rough, he always loved the idea of fucking someone senseless, making every vein buzz with only pleasure, mind forming thoughts solely of lust. he imagines holding you close as his fingers curl inside of you, he doesn’t push them in and out fast at first, but when your hips buck up against him— he becomes harsher, the intention of bruising your lips evident.
next, he moves to press you against the mattress, fucking you senseless into it.
he hums into the air, “ah— fuck..”
his breathing is labored, eyes scrunching shut as the pictures of your eyes rolling back becomes a mere oil painting in front of him, perched on the walls of the most pristine museums. his fingers would pass through your hair again, now the back of your head, pulling you back so your spine is flush against his chest. you’d lean back against him, melting into his skin and begging for more. surely, you had enough experience from your dildos and other sexual toys, or partners, but none of them could compare to coriolanus as his hips snap into you.
he groans into the air, seething in the pleasure, “i’ll fuck you so good..— mm.”
he moves to now fuck into his hand, imagining his hand a depiction of your velvet walls around him, clenching as you near your high.
you moan against his flesh, his fingers moving from your hair to your neck, pulling you until your flesh molds with his, adoration and lust merging you two together.
he went faster, harsher, fucking into his hand until his thighs grew sore, finally reaching his high.
he spills into his hand, sighing into the humid air.
“my god—“ he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.
what the fuck is his problem?
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
INTERLUDE : DARE ME ?
“so, did you talk to her?” festus interrogates him, per usual.
coriolanus’ eyes are heavy, he hardly slept after the events of last night, “no, i didn’t.”
“fucking loser,” festus snears, “she was live last night.”
“i know,” he swallows thick, the image of you riding the dildo returning to his mind, “did you talk to her?”
“yeah,” he shrugs, cocky, again, “i’m texting her right now.”
coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he leans over to see festus sending a message.
a phone goes off in the library.
as soon as the message is sent.
coriolanus blinks, once, twice, “send another.”
so he does, he types out another message and send it.
the same phone goes off again, just as the message says delivered.
coincidence?
coriolanus doesn’t believe in those.
“you’re so fucking weird dude, don’t try to read my messages,” festus pushes him away.
coriolanus groans, he couldn’t care less to read festus’ messages, “are you paying her to talk to you?”
“yes, but that’s not the point—“ festus quickly tries to save himself from the humiliation.
coriolanus scoffs, “she’s not your girlfriend, you can’t even get one, like ever.”
“and what about you, virgin?” festus leans in, a smirk growing on his lips. coriolanus knows what that smirk means, it means coriolanus will soon be sealing his fate, “why don’t you try to get one?”
“i’m good,” coriolanus shrugs, “nobody’s here for you to even dare me to ask out.”
“clemensia is,” he points to the table where you and clemensia always sit at, and of course, you’re both there, “and her friend.”
“i’m not asking them out,” coriolanus moves down in his chair.
“yes you are, i dare you.”
“no, you’re so fucking stu—“
“i’m gonna tell everyone you’re a virgin.”
coriolanus’ weakness was people knowing all the humiliating things about him, one of those things was the fact that he hasn’t had sex yet. coriolanus was an attractive man, he could get women if he truly wanted to and spend his nights with them, but he refused. and that made festus’ dares easy.
coriolanus’ jaw shifts, “you’re an asshole.”
every step he takes is slow, calculated, yet confident. it’s a certain stride that coriolanus always has, where he knows what he’s doing, but unsure at the same time. especially now, especially when your hair falls off your shoulder as you turn to have your eyes fall on him, sensing his approach. maybe it was a common thing for you, knowing festus would be daring his friends to come up to you, clemensia, or arachne.
always on high alert, he assumes.
his eyes fall the exposition of your shoulder, a key to one of those tight shirts that you always wear, even when it was against dress code.
a tight skirt and a short skirt, your motto, clearly. your twist underneath the table when he stands next to your seat, close, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. one thing he does notice though, is the strap of your bra. pink? a familiar shade, and as he follows it down, he notices the lace that starts on your bra. it looks an awful lot like the bra that the camgirl wore last night, the bra that coriolanus imagined you taking off for him.
his eyes narrow, he seems distracted, and you stare at him like he’s dumb, “hello?”
his eyes snap to your face at your words, “sorry— i—“
“what? are you gonna ask me out?” god, were you always this bitchy?
“i was planning on it,” his jaw shifts, eyes dipping to the plush of your lips, coated in that sparkly, strawberry gloss you always wore, “would you have said yes?”
“no, god, what is with you assholes?” you roll your eyes, pencil tapping impatiently against the desk.
“hm, not even a study date?” his eyes trail down to the book on your desk, “i saw your score on the test last week.”
“ew, fucking creep,” you snap, “i don’t need your help.”
“you sure?” his eyebrow cocks, your no isn’t stable yet, so he’s persuasive.
“coriolanus,” clemensia cuts in, “she said no.”
“did she?” he whistles, a cocky smile curving his lips, one that you want to slap off him, “must’ve not heard that.”
“then get some hearing aids,” you laugh, “i’m not sucking your dick.”
“didn’t ask you to, but we’ll see, sweetheart.”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
we’ll see. he didn’t even know where those words came from, or his cockiness, maybe it was the fact that he suspected you to be the girl he had on his mind last night. if so, then he would know things about you that many don’t, and that gives him power.
greed : an insatiable desire for material objects, wealth, and power.
coriolanus snow was a greedy man.
he kept a closer eye on you now, eyes pinning to the back of your head, memorizing the way you style your hair, so that he can see if the hair that drips off your shoulders in all of your secret videos were the same. or if your lips were as sparkly and glossed in those videos as they are in person. did you wear the same mini skirt you wore to school in your videos? that would be dirty, wouldn’t it? capitol girl, dressed in her pristine clothes as she fucks herself in front of thousands.
what a slut.
he had to figure it out, it was an untamable hunger that not even the most holy prayer could exorcize out of him. rosaries dripped around the fingers he used to curl around his cock the night before, and even in his most innocent prayers, his mind reflected back onto the idea of pulling the rosary around your neck as he fucks into you. his eyes snap open, and now just another thing that he had done so clearly before was plagued with your existence.
was this you calling out to him? beckoning him to pray for you?
if so, he might just do it, dedicate all of his rosaries to you, replace virgin mary with yourself, and look at every cross and think of you moving onto it, sliding the wood into your womanhood.
coriolanus’ throat was dry again, his own thoughts making him want to vomit.
those were the kinds of things festus would be fantasizing about, not coriolanus— and yet, here he was, on his knees, imagining you on the pedestal. your hair dips past your shoulders as you look down at him, those judgemental, buggish eyes, now bleeding onto his skull. his fingers dip behind your calves, memorizing the touch of the flesh that smoothed over muscle and bone. his eyes cascade up your legs, past your breasts, to the eyes that look down on him.
he has a certain look in his eyes, a look that is saying he’s doing this all for you. dropping his pride for you, allowing his walls to crumble for you, tarnishing his name for you. sometimes snow doesn’t land on top, sometimes it melts and becomes weak in the sky, sometimes it crumbles underneath itself.
he plants gentle kisses to your shins, admirations, soft praises and prayers.
goddess, did you hear about the man who roamed lost? the man who fell weak? tell me of his efforts, what brought him to this point, the people he met, the worlds he crossed, to now be brought to his knees in front of his muse. he was complicated, hidden, and yet you peeled him apart like a pomegranate. the juice splatters against your face as he opens himself to you, and something about it is so very special.
scratches fall down his back, and again, he’s blinking himself to reality.
his fingers on the keyboard, he finds himself at your profile once more, now beckoning you to him. a twisted game of tug - of - war, isn’t it? pieces fall into place as he clicks on the link which leads him to paying for your exclusive content.
research purposes, of course.
he spends his money so easily, he doesn’t even take a second thought to it as the page reloads with his newfound access to all your hidden secrets. his fingers pry as he pulls down the website, scrolling through each aspect that you hold in the reflections of who you really are.
a whore? no, a temptress.
he sucks in a breath at the sights of you bending over in front of the camera, fucking a dildo into yourself, or the next one of you in a missionary position with a vibrator on your clit. or the next one of you fucking a dildo between your tits. coriolanus rasps out the breath he sucked in earlier, adjusting in his seat, this wasn’t another invitation to jerk off, it was studying.
he scrolls past a few more videos and then, his eyes catch it, the skirt.
a small smile curves his lips, power.
he has it.
or so, he thinks he does, you have his money, his admiration, him on his knees, have him confused on whether or not this is truly you. skirts and coincidences don’t tell much, he just likes to jump to conclusions. the hair didn’t even match up—
so does he really have the power?
we’ll see, sweetheart.
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antiquarianfics · 10 months
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Better Than Us
Being a woman is hard, and it’s not necessarily something you’d wish on another.
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A/N: Comfort fic because I’m sad and I have not stopped thinking about that scene in Barbie. Warnings: Mentions of sexism, mentions of self-loathing/body issues. Not really proofread. Genre: Angst/Fluff Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, you may like, comment, and reblog.
——
“Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a girl!” The sonographer says, hitting a few more buttons on the ultrasound. “Your baby girl is looking great. I’ll get the sonograms printed off for you to take home, get you cleaned up, and get you out of here. Alright?”
You stare at the sonogram, watching as your baby moves around in your uterus.
Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a girl!
Mom and Dad, it’s a girl.
It’s a girl.
A girl.
Bucky watches you, and when you don't respond to the sonographer after a while, he turns to her and nods.
“Thank you.”
She smiles and nods as she takes a wipe and cleans the gel off your stomach. When she finishes, she smiles and excuses herself to go grab the sonogram photos from the printer in another room.
You pull your shirt down and sit up on the exam table.
“You all right, Sweetheart?” Bucky asks, concern laced in his voice. He gently run his hand through your hair comfortingly.
You lean into his touch before looking up at him and forcing a smile. You’re attempting to be reassuring, but he seems to see through it, you think. Bucky lets it go, though, and kisses your forehead.
——
You’re quiet for the rest of the day, and it worries Bucky. Usually after a doctor’s appointment, you’re giddy; you love getting news about your unborn child.
“Bucky! The baby’s the size of a grapefruit now! Isn’t that crazy?”
“Buck, did you know our baby has fingernails already? Wild.”
“Holy shit! Holy shit! James, come here! The baby just kicked!”
Bucky was always just as excited to hear about his child, and he was expecting to be celebrating finding out the sex. However, ever since the words “it’s a girl” were uttered, you’d been quiet.
“Could she be disappointed?” Bucky wonders, but it seems so unlikely he pushes the thought aside.
When the majority of the day passes without you saying much or expressing any excitement about your daughter, Bucky can’t help but confront you.
“Y/N? Doll?” He asks, a little nervous.
You’re sitting on the couch, fiddling with the blanket across your lap, and the TV on and ignored in front of you. You hum in acknowledgement, but you don’t meet his gaze.
“Doll,” he says again, moving to sit next to you, bringing his hand gently to your face so that he can divert your gaze to his. “Is everything alright? You’ve been quiet since the appointment.”
You clench your jaw, obviously anxious. Perhaps a little angry with yourself.
“You’ll be mad.”
“Why would I be mad?”
“Because you’re gonna realize you’re having a baby with someone who’s going to be a terrible mother.”
Bucky is taken aback. You’re so sincere that it scares him.
“Y/N, honey, you’re not going to be a terrible mother. Why would you think that?”
You look away from him to try and hide your impending tears.
“We’re having a girl.”
“And that means you’re going to be a terrible mother?” Bucky’s eyebrows scrunch together. He is absolutely not following.
“No, it’s not that. It’s just. We’re having a girl, and I should be excited, but I’m not. I’m going to be—no, I am—a terrible mother because I’m upset I’m having a daughter.”
Bucky is still not following, and his hesitance to respond pushes you to keep going.
“It’s not that I don’t want a daughter. It’s that being a woman really sucks. One day you’re a kid, playing with Barbies, playing tag, making up games no one else understands, and the next day you’re so self conscious about random things; and men look at you when you don’t want them to; and people make fun of you for liking anything; and no matter how good you are at your job, people still question if you should have it.
“I remember the first time I was aware my stomach was bigger than it should be to be considered pretty. I was in the 5th grade, Buck. I was standing in line to throw my lunch away and go to recess, I looked down at my feet, and I saw my stomach. I remember sucking it in and never stopping. And when I told my mom, she didn’t tell me not to. She didn’t tell me I was healthy, and a kid, and that I was beautiful without sucking my stomach in. No. She praised me. Told me she did the same thing. Said it strengthens our abs and makes us healthier when it really messes with your breathing, and reshapes your body, and-“
You cut yourself off with your own tears. You’re immediately pulled into Bucky’s arms as he moves to soothe you; a comforting hand slides up and down your back, soft kisses are pressed to your forehead, and sweet nothings and reassurances meet your ears.
When you finally calm down some, Bucky pulls away, grasping your shoulders and holding you just far enough away to look into your eyes.
“Listen, I hear you. The way women are treated—the way you’re treated—sucks. It really does. But it’s a lot better than when I was a kid, and it takes women like you recognizing that the way you’ve been treated is wrong and working to make it better for your daughters. The fact that you’re upset for your daughter—not about her—means you’re a good mom. And I know you’re gonna do everything you can to instill confidence in her and let her be a kid as long as possible. And we are going to teach her how she should be treated, and we are going to teach her how to stand up for herself.
“And if we ever have a son, we’ll teach him to respect women. Not to ogle or harass them. We’ll raise our kids to be better than we are.”
Bucky’s speech takes you off guard. You’d expected him to tell you you were being dramatic. You’d expected him to tell you that you should just be happy about having a daughter regardless of what that entails.
You’d expected him to act like every man that he was not.
You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“I’m not a bad mom?”
“You’re not a bad mom.”
A pause. You catch your breath; Bucky holds you close.
“Hey, Bucky?” You say after a while.
“Hmm?” He hums. He is gently massaging your scalp to comfort you as he holds you.
“We’re having a girl!” You pull back to look at him, a smile across your face. You’ve finally processed the day, its revelations, and Bucky’s assurances, and you’re finally ready to be happy.
“We’re having a girl,” Bucky agrees, smiling and kissing your forehead.
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pow-pow1111 · 3 months
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Sweetheart // Jinx ♡
Your girlfriend loves to play-fight with you :)
Pairing: Jinx x fem reader
Tags: play-fighting, teasing, fluff, cuddling
A/N: Jinx lives in my head rent-free I love her SO MUCH
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♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
💙 “Is that the best you can do?”
💙 Jinx loves to tease you. It’s one of the many ways she expresses her intense and endless adoration for you. The way your eyes widen when she catches you off guard, the way you look away, try to cover your flustered face and hide your blushing- it almost made her heart stop.
💙 She never got tired of this playful roughhousing. With her seemingly endless energy, she always had an advantage over you in your sweet “battles”. This game was one of her favorite things, really. 💙 “Hey! Get off of me!!” You protest as she manages to get an upper hand on you. Her hands wrap around your waist in a tight grip. She holds you down firmly. Her brightly-colored nails just barely graze your skin, making you squirm.
💙 “Aww, am I making my sweet little girlfriend mad? How cute…” She taunts lightheartedly as she presses you down.
💙 Hearing her say that never failed to give you butterflies. My girlfriend. After what felt like an eternity of mutual pining, you had finally become official girlfriends. You still could barely believe it. She was your everything, and you were hers.
💙 Jinx climbs on top of you, straddling your body and laughing mockingly. You try to gently push her off, playing along with her and greatly enjoying this wrestling. She found your attempts to defeat her amusing. You can’t deny the way your heart races at her being this close to you... how amazing the feeling of your skin against hers was. Her proximity makes you nervous, and you whimper a little as your body writhes helplessly beneath your lover. 💙 “You’re gonna need to try harder than that, my love.” She teases as you struggle under her to try to free yourself. One of her hands sneaks up to your neck, moving in swift teasing motions. Her other hand brushes past your skin and she rubs gentle circles on your hip. You sigh with enjoyment.
💙 Jinx is just inches away from your neck, and the feeling of her breath against your skin drives you wild. Her lips just barely graze you- she knew how sensitive you were there. It feels so good inside. You lean into her touch as she nips at your neck gently. She knew exactly how to work you into a frenzy and make you a flustered mess.
💙 “Ah… please slow down… that tickles too much,” you breathe out, "please be gentle..."
💙 Her hold on you loosens a little in surprise from your soft cries. She stills herself to stare at you before a wide grin spreads on her face. She relishes in being able to make you feel good like this. It makes her warm and excited, and encourages her to keep going.
💙 “I’m not doing anything~” your girlfriend says with a cheeky smile, feigning innocence. She bats her eyelashes, her eyes sparkling at you with a flirtatious look. You feel so good and she knows it.
💙 She kisses your neck and grazes you ever so gently with her teeth, nibbling passionately. Her lips are so soft and warm. This feeling is too much to take. “That’s not fair!!” you whine. “You- you know all of my weak spots…”
💙 “All is fair in love and war, toots,” she giggles mischievously. "This is really getting to you..."
💙 “Get off!!” You squeal playfully, your voice needy.
💙 “Make me."
💙 She challenges you with that, her voice dripping with a harmless arrogance. She could not enjoy this more, couldn’t get enough of your adorable reactions. She’s eager to see how you’ll respond to her words, and she feels overwhelming happiness bubbling up inside. Jinx is absolutely giddy.
💙 Your breath hitches at hearing this. You smile, your face easing as you narrow your eyes at her playfully. “Oh you’re asking for it now~ You’ll pay for that!”
💙 “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it? Love and cuddle me to death?” She chuckles smugly then smirks down at you. She’s feeling very proud and self-satisfied. The look on her face is suggestive.
💙 “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do-!!”
💙 “You’ve got me shaking in my boots, hun. Real scary.” She sneers and her eyebrow raises curiously. You make her snicker.
💙 You grab one of her blue braids and gently tug on it, pulling her closer to you. Her eyes widen at the sudden jerking motion. She squeals playfully and pretends to struggle. “No!! Anything but that, love!!” She says sweetly as she tries to wiggle away. You start to give her affectionate kisses on her head.
💙 Jinx pretends to shriek in pure agony. “Oh no, my only weakness!! Please help me!!! I cannot stand being smothered by my girlfriend’s love!!” She exaggerates her act, her voice dramatic as can be. This is so fun for her. 💙 “I won’t show any mercy,” you say and you lean down. You cup her face with one hand, tracing your fingers against her soft skin. You bring your lips to her neck, planting several feverishly quick kisses like you are attacking her. Her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. Wherever your passion can reach. She laughs endearingly as she tries to shove you off.
💙 “No, not the kisses!! I can’t stand it!!” She wails as if she’s suffering. Her giggles make your heart skip a beat, and your eyes light up with pure affection as you look down at your sweet girlfriend. She's blushing from all of her laughter.
💙 You move yourself downward and start to blow raspberries on Jinx's bare stomach. Her body tenses up in response to the sudden stimulation. As she laughs, you feel her whole body softly shake beneath you. You look up at her. Your eyes meet and you share a moment of just staring at each other with pure love. 💙 This is so intimate. You feel butterflies in your stomach, hotness in your body, your chest pounding... This was the way you always felt when you looked at the girl who had stolen your heart. Being this close to her you could feel your cheeks become flushed. The two of you can feel the heat from each other.
💙 The warmth is so comforting. You cease your “attacks” and bring yourself up to her side. Putting your arms around her waist, you nuzzle against her. She’s so soft, so warm and cuddly. Your bodies seem to fit together perfectly. Jinx did not hesitate to wrap herself around you in return, she was so clingy and you loved it with all your heart. You hug and hold each other with fondness. 💙 “Aww~ that took a lot out of you, huh? “ she smirked, grinning at the sight of your chest rising and falling softly. She heard your faint pants of exasperation. You look at your lover dreamily as she speaks. “Do you surrender? Say you surrender.”
💙 You let out soft sounds of enjoyment as you snuggle into Jinx. Your hand lazily traces her tattoos in soft motions, caressing her lovingly. 💙 “Go on~ say it,” she repeats, pulling you up against her as close as possible. She doesn’t want to ever let you go. You made everything so perfect. 💙 “I surrender. I love you.” You murmured. You take her hand in yours, stroking it with your thumb.
💙 “That’s my girl,” she chuckled as she kissed your head. She runs her fingers carefully through your hair, massaging you. “I love you too. I love you so much.”
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
Thank you so much for reading!!! <3
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wobblesthecowgirl · 13 days
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I'm No O’Driscoll!
Chapter Two: Six Point Cabin
Tags: Arthur Morgan x Femreader, enemies to lovers, O'Driscoll reader, game plot, Arthur doesn't have tuberculosis, eventual smut, age difference, 18+, mild gore
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: Hello again! Chapter two is a lot longer and we are kinda getting into it. I know Arthur and reader hate each other but you can't rush enemies to lovers!
Chapter One
Chapter Three
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Days had gone by and Y/n hadn’t eaten a proper meal. In fact, she wouldn’t have had anything if it wasn’t for Mary-Beth feeding both her and Kieran scraps of food when the other gang members weren’t looking. Y/n always made sure to thank her, repaying her kindness with respect. She doesn’t have to do that, but she’s got a good heart.
Arthur and Dutch had tried asking about Colm a few more times but without being fed, the two O’Driscoll’s were too tired to respond (that and Y/n was too suborn. She hated this gang as much as the other one). Today however, seemed much different.
It was sunny, a light breeze and the birds were chirping, it would’ve been a calming day if it wasn’t for the predicament. Arthur strode towards the two of them and stood in between the two trees. When she was tied up, the gang made sure Kieran and Y/n couldn’t reach one another, their feet being only a foot apart from each other.
“When is this going to end…” Kieran whined as Arthur got to them, not ready for another day of questioning and torture.
“You both got some speaking to do of your own, about that old gang of yours.” He folded his arms like he always did, which Y/n rolled her eyes at. Here we go again.
Kieran was standing again, whereas she couldn’t, her thigh slightly better but due to her condition, it was healing slower than it should. Kieran groaned, “I said I told you. I don’t know nothing.”
Arthur shook his head, the tiny rope on his hat swung with it, “That’s what I thought.”
Dutch came striding over, his voice cheerful and booming, causing the woman to jump.
“Hold your horses there! It seems the cat has got our friend’s tongue’s.” He stood with Arthur, with a bigger guy before continuing, “I was thinking Mr Williamson could have a word.”
Y/n eyed him carefully; she had been trying to get as much information on everyone, being sat doing nothing makes you people watch. She was sure this guy was called Bill. He had a creepy grin on his face and pointed at Kieran.
“We can start with you. You ready to talk, boy?”
“I told you mister, I told all of you. I don’t know nothing, ok?” He sighed, “Th-They ain’t no friends of mine. I just been ridin’ with them for a while.”
Bill interrupted him, his spit flying out his mouth, “Bullshit! You’re close with this O’Driscoll, and you told us you weren’t close with any of them! So how about you tell us the truth.” He turned to the gang’s leader, “Dutch, what do you want me to do?”
Y/n’s heart dropped. This interrogation session was different than the others, it was much more sinister.
“Hurt him. So the next time he opens his mouth, it is to tell us what is going on.” Dutch’s mouth was twisted into a sly smile, his voice dripping with ill intent.
“Who am I kidding? One of the O’Driscoll’s boys couldn’t open his mouth, but he’d tell a lie.” He got in Kieran’s face before turning to Bill, “Screw it. Let’s just have some fun,” He made a cutting motion with his fingers, “geld him.”
Bill cheered as Y/n pulled at her restraints, “No! You get away from him!” She screamed as Dutch laughed down at her.
“Maybe you’ll talk for him!”
“What’s he doing? Where’s he going?” Her friend panicked, watching Bill bring a pair of long tongs from the fire.
Arthur hadn’t said anything, only stood watching the scene unfold before him, waiting to see who would crack first.
“Oh, don’t worry. They’re only balls boy! Just gonna cause you trouble.” Dutch began to ramble about Rome but the two hostages weren’t listening, instead watching Bill cheerfully make his way over. Kieran’s trousers and pants were then pulled down, and Y/n made sure to look up, in attempts to save the poor boy’s dignity.
“No, no, no, no! You’re kidding right?” Kieran cried, trying to back away but the tree blocked him.
“You disgusting pigs!” Y/n snapped, still wriggling and kicking, her thigh screaming at her to stop.
“You sick bastards! What do you want from me!” Even Kieran was swearing now, fear causing him to sweat profusely.
“Well, you are going to talk. The only question is now, or after we get these little fellas off?” The three men were surrounding Kieran. The pair of tongs getting closer, yet he still wasn’t cracking.
“Ok! I’ll tell you!” Y/n shouted; she couldn’t sacrifice her friend getting hurt over a gang who didn’t even realise they were missing. All the men turned to her, the weapon getting a bit further away from him.
“Six point cabin.” She stated, and when they looked at her she sighed, “That’s where the O’Driscoll’s are. That’s where Colm is lying low.”
The men seemed satisfied, as Bill shouted at Kieran, “Why didn’t you tell us that first, boy?”
“I didn’t know the location!” He whimpered, still keeping an eye of Bill’s hand, and trying to cross his legs.
“But I know where that is! I can take you there. I don’t like him. I mean, I like him even less than I like you. No offence.”
“Oh, none taken.” Dutch cackled. Arthur finally joined in on the conversation. He leant down to Kieran and said, “Ok then, partner. Why don’t you and your friend take a few of us up there. Right now.” He untied Kieran who quickly pulled his trousers up, and Arthur approached Y/n.
“I ain’t helping you!” She spat, her not shot leg kicking out in protest. She could hear him grumbling as he untied her, and when she refused to stand, he grabbed her bicep and forced her up. His grip was purposefully strong, but she couldn’t focus on that, instead, she focused on the fact that she couldn’t stand or walk properly. Being sat for days on top of her wound made her useless.
“I got this, Dutch. Should be fun.” He reassured his leader before turning his attention back to her, “Alright you, come on. Can you walk?”
“What does it look like?” She gritted her teeth, limping slowly to what she assumed was his horse after watching him ride to camp on it. She could feel him chuckling behind her, “Well at least I ain’t gotta worry about you running away.”
Another snide remark from this man and I’ll kill him on pure adrenaline and a pocketknife.
Kieran jogged over to the best of his ability to help her, but she held her hand up to stop him. She didn’t want to appear weaker than what she already did, and if the two kept acting close, the gang would use that against them like how they already did.
“Let’s hope you both ain’t trying to trick us, O’Driscolls.” Arthur warned.
“We ain’t no O’driscoll.” Kieran corrected which only caused the older man to snap back, “But you sure as shit was.” After that, he called for John and Bill to tag along, and Kieran gave them the directions.
“John, you take this little rattlesnake with you. Any nonsense, kill him.”
John nodded, pointing to his horse so Kieran could hop on.
“Don’t do anything rash.” Y/n called out to him as John sat on the front of his horse. Kieran nodded at her as if to say ‘same to you’.
“You’re with me, woman.” Arthur got on his horse, and looked down at her. She looked up and from this angle, she could see how his stubble was neatly kept and his moustache was slightly longer. His eyes were light and the were small scars dotted across his cheek.
I can’t wait to put a bullet through his head.
She grabbed the saddle but winced when she shifted her weight to her bad leg. With a grunt, Arthur extended his hand which only caused her to raise her chin at him.
“You can put your filthy hand away, I don’t need your help.”
“Well, it sure looks like you do. Stop being so stubborn, girl.”
“I hope you drop dead on this mission.” She spat, pulling herself up in an awkward manner, seating behind him with as much distance as she could get. Why does he have to have the biggest horse known to mankind?
“Are they taking us to Colm?” John asked as the three horses galloped out the camp and through the trees that gave comforting shade to the summer’s sun.
“Look, I-I-I’ll give you more directions when we’re close, but if I know where we are, it’s up past Valentine.” Kieran strutted as John moved further up for the rest of them to follow. Y/n tuned out the men the entire ride there, all she heard was talk about throwing knives, O’Driscolls, and horse shit. Instead, she watched the dust kick up from the hooves of the horses, the leaves blowing in the wind, and the occasional people passing by.
Arthur asked Bill if he still had the tongs, to which he replied with the fact he had a knife.
“Keep that in mind, young fella.” He yelled at Kieran, “Right in the forefront of it.”
“What about the woman?” Bill asked; Y/n saw him shrug.
“I’ll just shoot her other leg. I doubt she’ll get far.” His voice found humour in this, and she could only grit her teeth at how helpless she was. She was stronger than this, much stronger, and these idiots didn’t even know it.
“It’s passed these hills. Better get there before I get your gun.” She threatened and couldn’t help her smirk as she saw him instinctively reach for his holster. They stopped their horses at the clearing and planned to reach the cabin from foot. Arthur got off first and looked at her, wondering if she was going to ask for help. Of course she didn’t. Instead, she swung her leg over and jumped down, falling to her knees from the sudden impact. She kept her pained cries inside, only earning a small grunt. Kieran made his way over and helped her back on her feet, which this time she didn’t push him away. When she was steady, Kieran began to walk towards the cabin’s location.
“There’ll be a bunch of fellers hiding out there too.” Kieran stated as the group were crouched behind a log, peering into the woods. A couple of men were further than the rest, taking a toilet break against a tree.
“Are these fellas armed?” Arthur asked.
“Armed. Drunk. Wary of strangers.” Kieran nodded.
“And Colm O’Driscoll?”
“Most likely.” Y/n intervened, “Probably passed out sleeping soundly. After a day of bossing people to their deaths.”
The three O’Driscoll’s continued to talk to one another as Dutch's group tried to conduct a plan. The O’Driscoll’s got close, so John grabbed Kieran and covered his mouth with a gun to his head. Arthur did the same. His giant, calloused hands roughly gripped Y/n face to silence her, the other hand on her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her ear, but she didn’t move a muscle. Not because she was scared, but because doing so would be pointless. If she screamed, either John would shoot her, or her former gang mates would.
“I’m gonna let go of you now, if you so much as move an inch, I’m shooting you in the head this time.” He whispered in her ear, as she stifled a grunt, her eyebrows knitted together. He slowly let go, making sure she didn’t move, and began making his way over to the enemy with his throwing knife, stabbing all three with Bill. John turned to Kieran and Y/n, his eyes narrowed.
“I need to help them. You two stay here, if you try to escape we will hunt you down. Understood?” Kieran nodded while she only rolled her eyes; she was getting tired of all the empty threats. They watched as John descended down the hill.
“We can’t keep doing this, man.” She spoke up after a quick breather, her leg aching. He only hummed in response, too busy trying to get a better look of what was going on. As she scoped the scene, a familiar shine in the corner of her eye caught her attention.
“Is that..” It was. It was a sniper rifle. It was the first time she had a genuine smile. Oh, what a beautiful sight, a beautiful sight that is now mine.
She hopped down the hill, carefully as to not alert either gang, and picked up the gun. Its cold metal only warmed her heart, as she looked through the scope and nodded her head; it wasn’t the best, but it’d do. She heard her friend scramble after her, not wanting to be left alone.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” He scolded, the both of them a bit startled at the sudden loud bangs of guns at the cabin.
“What do you think? I’m going to scope that big grunt and get us the hell out of here. We can wait till they kill all the O’Driscolls, then I aim from a distance an-“
“No! Being alone is too risky! We would get hunted down! Our best bet is to warm up to the Van Der Linde gang and-“
It was her turn to interrupt him, she looked like she had been shot a second time, “What? Are you insane! Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m trying not to lose my head!” He snapped back, much to her surprise. He rubbed his eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Just… hear me out ok?”
“They will kill us after today you know? We gave them what they needed, Bang. Bye bye us.”
A twig snapped, the two of them now on high alert. An old O’Driscoll had a gun pointed at Kieran, but Y/n quickly head shot him within milliseconds. He thanked her, a hand to his chest.
“Come on, we are sitting ducks here.” She began to limp to the cabin, the gunshots had died down significantly. When they got there, the place was littered with dead bodies.
She made her way to the wooden shed and saw the rest of them there. Arthur had his back turned; it would be so easy. She aimed her rifle at him, just as he got knocked down by a frenzied O’Driscoll with a gun pointing down at him. Saves me a job, she first thought, but Kieran’s previous words nagged her. Nagged and nagged, before she huffed in annoyance. Damn you, horse boy.
She shot the man on top of Arthur between his brows, he went limp, and Arthur pushed the now dead body off of him; blood had splattered on his coat and face. He laid there for a moment, not even acknowledging her, before getting up and peering his head inside the cabin and was suddenly filled with rage. He stormed towards her, his face red.
“You set us up! Come here!” He was towering over her now, their anger mutual.
“No she didn’t!” Kieran tried to defuse the situation which only made Arthur angrier.
“You both did, Colm O’Driscoll ain’t here!”
“If I wanted to set you up, I would’ve used this very rifle in my hand to shoot you dead!” She seethed, raising the rifle as proof she did just in fact save his life.
“She has a good point, Arthur.” Bill butted in, sort of on her side. Arthur paused for a moment, seemingly taking in the situation before shooing her away and saying, “Alright then, go on, get out of here.”
“Eh?” Kieran puzzled, stepping closer to Y/n who only furrowed her brows at him. A trap? Get our back turned to shoot us?
“I’m letting you run away, now go on. Get out of here.”
“Don’t need to tell me twice, come on Kieran.” She was about to walk off, or hobble away, when he grabbed her wrist.
“That’s as good as killing us. Out there, without you, Colm O’Driscoll’s gonna lose his mind about this.”
She groaned, sick of this argument, and Arthur didn’t seem too pleased either, only asking, “So?”
“So, we’re one of you now.” He stated, earning a scoff from Y/n.
“Oh please.”
He shot her a warning glance and for once she obeyed. Arthur rubbed his eyes before murmuring, “Give me a break.” He looked at them both, thinking hard about his next decision.
“Alright then. But I’m warning you both…”
“We get it!” Y/n groaned, throwing the rifle on the ground to his feet so he didn’t keep going on.
“You fellas get to camp, quick. Hey Bill, you tell Dutch, old Kieran and little Y/n ain’t worth killing. Just yet.” He stated, already making his way inside the cabin to find the money stashed in the chimney.
Y/n got on John’s horse this time with said man, deciding the man with the giant scar on his face was still better than Bill, who only this morning was excited to burn a man’s balls off.
“Don’t think for second you’re one of us.” John barked as they began their journey back to camp.
“Trust me. I’ll never have the desire to be accepted by any of you.” She scoffed, all of them going silent as the sun began to set, and the cold air giving her goosebumps.
69 notes · View notes
piratefalls · 2 months
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i have no real opening remarks, so have some fic, mind the tags, and have a good day!
masterlist
did the light hit my blush (when i told you you could be enough?) by matherine
Henry wasn’t eavesdropping. Really, he wasn’t — he had just come home from work at the shelter early, toed off his shoes at the door, and began to settle in when he heard it. “No, Nora,” Alex’s voice groans, floating out into the hall from where his bedroom door must be cracked open. “I can’t tell if he’s just not interested or oblivious. I’ve used my whole arsenal of flirting and Henry’s completely unresponsive.” Or: Alex has been flirting for months. It’s not that Henry didn’t notice — it’s that he thought he couldn’t possibly mean it.
Only Fools by OrchidScript
Henry rolled his eyes. “No. You tell me — that sounds better — why I should bring my ex-hook up to my brother’s wedding?” Pez hummed and half-shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you? He’s the perfect thing to light your gran’s helmet of hair on fire.” Pez set his cup down and leaned forward onto the table. “That’s what Pip encouraged you to do, didn’t he?” “Martha more than Pip, but yes. He did.” Henry sighed. “Then ask Alex.” -- With his brother's wedding a few weeks away, Henry Fox is determined to not show up alone. Not wanting to ask a stranger, he instead turns to Alex, hoping to manufacture something believable from something familiar. Try as he might to keep a level head, Henry can't help falling in love with the man. Will it come around to bite him or will it turn into something more than he had hoped?
kitchen confidential by stutteringpeach
The NDA is approximately a mile long. “Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?” ~ Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.
Can You See Me? (I'm Waiting for the Right Time) by affectionatelyrs
“Whose turn was it?” Henry asks while Alex is busy pondering the merits of throwing himself out their fifth-story window and hoping his boner doesn’t take anyone’s eye out on his way down. “Forgive me, but I am a bit tired. Do you think you could take it?” There’s no way that Henry’s not doing this on purpose. He makes words mean things when put in a certain order for a living, for fucks sake. Alex almost quips back depends on how big it is just to see how—or if—Henry would react. “Yeah, um, no problem.” There. Much more normal. He could steal Henry’s job at this rate. “Truth or dare?” - Or, Alex’s world gets flipped on its axis during a game of truth or dare
getting good now by Standinginmoonlight
Alex sighs and balls his hands up into fists, digging them into his eye sockets until he sees stars, and then he’s speaking without his brain giving his mouth permission. “I can’t believe I’m going to marry someone British.” Or: the Love is Blind AU that no-one asked for.
A Sin Better Than Heaven by AnchoredArchangel
“Show me,” the king says, a demand. He sets the vial back down, careless to where it lands compared to where it originated. He leans back against the table, crosses his arms over his chest; chin raised, jaw set- a picture of regality. Henry’s heart is pounding in his chest, the unstable beat of too many horse hooves overlapping, like the canter through the woods that very afternoon before he was shoved from his saddle. For the first time, he considers the possibility that perhaps he had hit his head harder than he realized- against the ground or against the tree, because certainly his hope is misplaced; certainly he is not following this conversation as well as he presumed. “Show you what, Your Majesty?” The king only deigns to move a hand, untucking it from his elbow in order to wave it vaguely. “How your body responds to men.” Or: A criminally loose reimagining of the tent scene from Mary & George, only Alex is a sexually confused king, and Henry's the one who has been sent to seduce him.
it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands by anincompletelist
His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs.
Silence & Sound by @nocoastposts
Alex tugs at his hair and tries to focus on choosing his next words. He knows that Henry will help him - that he wants to help him. He knows that all he has to do is say the word. Henry stands and steps closer, holding Alex’s chin firmly and tilting his head up so their eyes are forced to meet. “You need me to clear that lovely head of yours, hm?” “Please,” Alex says in barely a whisper. or: Henry helps Alex fill the silence before indulging in the sound.
baby boy by smc_27
It starts as a joke. Alex taking the piss about how much money Henry has. How he could have anything he wanted, from anyone he wanted, if only he just asked.
all so human with our guards down by maxbegone
“Constant fear is debilitating,” Alex tells him later on. The sun has risen, though it’s barely prominent through the dark clouds in the sky. “Even in the world we live in now, you need to find the things that make it feel…normal.” Of course, Alex isn’t even sure that makes much sense, and he thinks about doubling back on what he just said with something stupid and word-vomitty, whatever pops into his head first, but Henry beats him to it. Much more suitable, and it puts Alex’s mind at ease: “I’m starting to think you’re right.” The world ended three years ago. No more all-night study sessions, no more drag brunch and mimosas, no more societal expectations. But out of everything Alex was expecting from an apocalypse, Henry sure as hell wasn't it.
Dallas, Texas by annesbonny
i thought I knew hopelessness. i thought I'd learned its specific dread years ago There's an assassination attempt on Ellen, Henry is caught up in the damage. Alex is... coping about as well as you would expect.
Best Practice in Sexual Favours by everwitch
They meet at a bar. Alex is young; fresh out of law school, sharp and charismatic and oh-so attractive. The sex is absolutely incredible, and Henry has no regrets. At least not until the morning after when he finds himself opposite Alex in a meeting — equipped with the painful knowledge that Alex’s boss thinks Alex’s only function in said meeting is to sit there and look all pretty. Somebody ought to call HR right about now. Or: when sexual relationships mix with professional ones, Alex and Henry make the most of it.
this is the first time I've felt the need to confess by theprinceandagcd
Alex frantically unlocks his phone and stares at their text thread, at the heart reaction that Henry had left on his most recent message. His thumbs hover uselessly over his screen, trembling as moisture burns his vision. The entire room is thick with uneasiness, heavy enough that it’s hard to breathe, and Alex wants to tell Henry something, wants to reach out and find the solace that Henry so often offers him without even realizing it. But mostly, as his brain finally catches up to what’s actually happening, all Alex can think is that he doesn’t want to die. He tries to come up with a list of reasons why in his head, a comprehensive one that probably should include family and career goals and a million other things, but in the end, in the moment, all he can fucking think about is Henry.
out of the kitchen by rizcriz
Alex looks to his right where Henry’s standing at his own door. Any moment now, Gordon Ramsay is going to tell them to turn the handle and one of them is going to cascade into a new life. He doesn't care if his door doesn’t open; in fact, he’d rather it didn’t. He’s come all this way, he’s proven himself as a chef, but there’s no denying that the man beside him was made for this role. For the last five weeks, he’s watched as Henry’s given his all to every challenge and dinner service. -- or, the Hell's Kitchen au literally nobody asked for.
i love you (ain't that the worst thing you ever heard) by coffeecatsme
Henry doesn’t doubt that, just as much as he doesn’t doubt now that Alex won’t have a single issue with him being trans. In another life, when Henry whispered it in the quiet hours of the night, he didn’t. In another life, when he kissed Henry anyway, he didn’t. In another life. In this one, when Alex meets his eyes, all there is left behind them is a cold glare that freezes Henry to his soul. One year ago, Henry had a whirlwind of a day with Alex after a chance meeting in a coffee shop, only to leave in the morning to protect his heart. He doesn't expect to see Alex again, until he shows up at June's wedding and finds out her brother is the same Alex he hasn't been able to get out of his mind for a year - and he's pissed.
Fragile Things by SatinBirds
Alex does not scare easily. But the moment he sees Henry fall, all breath leaves his body at once.
Trim my Christmas tree by clottedcreamfudge
Henry is a writer, not a mall Santa, but unfortunately this year - thanks to his adorable and conniving nieces and their Aunt Beatrice - he's going to have to be both. This doesn't leave him a great deal of time to pine horribly over the part-time bookseller and Law student over at June Claremont-Diaz's shop, but somehow he manages to jam it in anyway. Ho ho ho.
All Kinds of Wounds by allmylovesatonce
It throws Alex off when it takes longer for the door to close, when he hears Henry’s footsteps but doesn’t hear him approaching. As he listens closer, there are steps on the stairs and eventually the sound of feet on the second floor. Henry avoided him. Henry gets hurt at the shelter and tries to hide it from Alex.
blurred lines by seafloor
Henry is a lovesick writer; Alexander a charismatic bartender. They’re still fated to fall into bed at some point.
keep me up all night/ i wanna scratch your surface by @firenati0n
They step inside, greeted by moonlight streaming through the windows, illuminating their living room in a dreamy light; it’s enough to see outlines and shapes, enough to keep everything just a little bit secretive, a little softer around the edges. Henry moves his hand to flick on the kitchen light, and Alex’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist. Henry looks down at him questioningly, blue eyes sparkling even with the absence of light. Alex always feels a little off-kilter around him, Henry both his center of gravity and his reason for vertigo. He’s stabilizing, and dizzying, and everything. Alex’s thumb and index finger circle Henry’s slender wrist, exerting the slightest pressure. He feels Henry's pulse jump under his thumb. “Get on the couch.”
Voted most likely to run away with you by dreamsinthewitchouse
Alex drifts into consciousness in a bed full of tangled limbs and warm, sleep-rumpled skin. He’s lying half on his stomach and half on his side, the shoulder smushed against the bed protesting in a way that tells him he’s going to have a crick in his neck for the rest of the day. But fuck if he cares, with Henry stirring next to him, one of his long legs draped over the back of Alex’s thigh. Alex doesn’t need to open his eyes to know the room is hazy with filtered sunlight, spilling pale yellow through the carelessly drawn curtains.
everything just stops by HypnosTheory
Alex hums, pushing his nose into the side of Henry’s cock. “Let me give you your gift, Hen.” “You’ve already given me my gift,” Henry says, fingers tightening on the edge of the countertop. “Twice.” Alex laughs and takes Henry’s cock back into his mouth. Henry keens, knees shaking. He’s oversensitive already; Alex woke him up with a hand on his cock, and then in the shower surprised him with three fingers against his prostate. Each orgasm was greeted with a happy birthday, baby, which is a phrase that’s starting to have a Pavlovian response on Henry. --- Alex gives Henry all the birthday orgasms - Henry believes turnabout is fair play.
the wrong place by congee4lunch
“I don’t want you, I don’t want anything to do with you, Alexander,” Henry breathes out, his breath ghosting over Alex’s lips. “I just want to feel good.” “Perfect,” Alex grins. “I want the exact same thing, Fox.” henry and alex hate each other. when they're forced to share a hotel room and a bed for a night, they fuck about it.
Total Eclipse by @myheartalivewrites
Alex is not sure what the fuck is happening here. “And if you only hold me tight…” A man—probably the most beautiful man he has ever seen—is up on stage in this karaoke bar, absolutely murdering Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and he’s pretty sure the guy is crying and it’s one of the most horrifying things he’s ever seen and Alex cannot. Look. Away.
Late Bloomer by @sparklepocalypse
Alex Claremont-Diaz is sixteen years old, and he hasn’t presented. His dad seems to think it’s fine and offers Alex regular reassurance that his cousin Angel hadn’t presented until nearly 20. His mom, though, gets a little crease between her eyebrows whenever she thinks Alex isn’t looking. Presenting is a Big Deal in the Claremont family, and Alex just... hasn’t. So Alex is sixteen, and he’s… a boy. That’s it. Just a boy. Not a boy and an alpha like his friend Marco, or a boy and an omega like his friend Noah. Just a boy.
living in a new normal by @forever-fixating
Henry Fox could write an entire dissertation based on how much information his twin nieces Penelope and Grace have told him about their favorite band, Austin Heat. The girls peppered him with neverending facts since he surprised them with tickets and meet-and-greet passes to their concert at Madison Square Garden last Christmas. -- Henry Fox takes his nieces to a concert of their favorite band, Austin Heat. He gets a bit more than he bargained for when he meets singer and guitarist Alex Claremont-Diaz.
as always, let me know if you want to be tagged in future lists!
tagging @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift
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spicyspiders · 10 months
Text
not a chance to slow down
Peter Quill x male reader smut
1.8k words
Tags: unprotected sex and age difference
A/N: I’ve been obsessed with Star-Lord since I played the Guardians of the Galaxy game around the beginning of the year. The one written about here though is from the MCU and was pretty much inspired by some gifs I saw and couldn’t stop thinking about lol. I’ll probably end up writing something about Adam Warlock too because how could I not when Will Poulter looks as good as he does.
The first time you spoke to Peter, it was in passing. You were tired and cranky, having driven many miles to get home during your summer break from school. You were on your last box when he came out of his house.
“Nice shirt,” you said casually when he walked by you.
“Thanks!” His eyes darted down to the box you held, “you need some help with that?”
“This is the last one, thankfully,” you answered and used one hand to wipe the sweat that had gathered on your brow.
“I wish I knew you needed help, I definitely would’ve been out here to help you,” the man responded.
You couldn’t help but eye him over. With how broad his shoulders looked, you’re sure he would’ve been able to help without getting as sweaty as you did.
“I appreciate that, but it’s okay,” you said, sending him a smile, “that mail does look pretty heavy after all.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” the man responded, and raised the few pieces of mail like a dumbbell, making his bicep flex.
It was probably from the time you spent in your car making you go a little crazy, but the man’s joke made you laugh harder than you expected. The other man’s face went red as you laughed, but after a second, he almost looked smug, like he was happy his joke had such a reaction.
“So,” the man says when your laughter has died down, “you here for the summer?”
“Yeah. After a long semester, I’m finally home,” you said, sending a grateful smile toward your house.
“Well, I’m happy to be the first person to welcome you back,” he says, sending you a soft smile.
You didn’t want to tell the man that he wasn’t the first person you saw since you’ve been home, instead, a smile matching the one the man wore landed on your lips. “Who do I have to thank for such a warm welcome?”
“Peter Quill, at your service,” he said, adding a bow.
You couldn’t help but laugh again at the display. You introduced yourself around the fit of giggles as Peter went on to laugh at himself.
“Let me know if you need any help unpacking,” Peter called from his door after you walked up your respective driveways. “Hopefully I’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” Peter said as he stood in the open doorway.
“I hope so too,” you responded, sending one last smile his way before you closed the door. The smile on your face lasted until you got to your bedroom, and fell once you were reminded of all of the boxes you needed to unpack.
-
Though you were tempted to walk out of your house and head next door to see if Peter would come to help you unpack your boxes, you didn’t end up seeing him until the next day.
“Are you on mail duty too?” Peter asked as he leaned against his mailbox.
“It’s one of my most important responsibilities. Nice robe, by the way,” it was pretty boring as far as robes go with its plain white color, but you weren’t about to tell Peter that.
“You like it?” Peter twists himself to the left and right to make sure you have a full look at the garment, “I just bought it.”
“Am I the first to see you in it?” You ask in surprise.
“You are. I saved it just for you.”
You let out a chuckle, though you weren’t sure if Peter was being serious, “what’s it gonna be tomorrow?”
Peter crosses his arms over his chest, looking away with an intense look of thought on his face, “I could break out my birthday suit, but that’s reserved for my bedroom and the bathroom.”
You look at him with your brows raised, a slow smile spreading across your face, “I think I would get pretty lonely if you got arrested for doing that, so I’d think of something else to wear.”
“Or you could come up to my room and I could just show you, that way I don’t have to think of what I should wear to impress you,” Peter said with a smirk.
“I know thinking can be hard at your age, so that sounds like a good idea.”
Peter’s smirk morphed into a look of offense, “how old do you think I am?”
“You were wearing a Metallica shirt yesterday.”
“So? They’re a good band, that doesn’t make me old,” Peter responded.
“How old are you?”
Peter looked away, and glanced at the mail you held in your hand before looking back at you, “40,” he answered before looking away again.
“You’re not that old at least,” you responded, smiling when Peter shook his head.
You couldn’t ignore the nervous feeling that started to sink in when you stepped up to the man, “I have to put this inside then I’ll be over, okay?”
Peter nodded, sending you a small smile, “better hurry, you don’t want me getting any older, do you?”
-
You meant it when you said Peter wasn’t that old. It even made more things about him make sense, like his taste in shirts, and the way his eyes crinkled yesterday when he laughed at his joke. What didn’t make sense, or really, what you didn’t expect, was the way that he fucked you.
It almost reminded you of the guy you went home with last semester. Like the guy you went home with, Peter fucked you fast and hard. You honestly expected it to be over just as quickly as that last time, but when Peter rolled over onto his back and sat you down on his cock, you let out a punched out noise of surprise.
“Tired?” You asked.
Peter grinned, “I’m not as young as I used to be,” he said, running his hands up and down your thighs. When he pulled his hands away, he crossed them behind his head, looking relaxed.
You watched in confusion as Peter lay there. When his eyes fell shut, you clenched down on his cock, hoping to get the man back into action, but he stayed still. When you clenched back down on his throbbing cock, that’s when Peter’s eyes opened again to watch you.
“That all you’re going to do?” Is that enough to get you off?” He asked with a smirk.
“Fuck you,” you snipped back. You knew from the first time that you brought yourself up with your thighs that they would quickly start to ache, but it only spurred you on. You fell back down after bringing yourself up with a moan, feeling as if the cock inside you went deeper than the poison that you were just in.
“There you go, baby,” Peter said, his smirk now a toothy smile, “I knew you had it in you,” he said, still just fucking laying there.
In retaliation for his stillness, you reached down to twist at one of his nipples with your fingers, but it only made Peter let out a groan filled with pleasure. You took to settling your hands on his broad chest, finding purchase to help fuck yourself down on his cock.
You didn’t expect after only having met yesterday that you would be bouncing up and down on his cock the next day. You could see when you met him yesterday how broad his shoulders and chest were, but now, seeing it uncovered from the shirt he wore yesterday, and the bathrobe he wore today, you could see the way his muscles were covered with a soft layer of fat.
Your head fell back as you let out moans as the cock inside you hit your prostate as you filled yourself to the brim over and over again.
When the inevitable burn in your thighs began to set in, you paused to lean down and press your lips to Peter’s. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his cock throb against your prostate, even as you sat still.
Peter answered with a noise of his own and moved his hands back down to your hips. He traced his fingers over the sensitive skin of your hips bones, making you shudder, and once the kiss was over, his hands moved to the globes of your ass.
Peter gripped the skin tightly and used the harsh grip to lift you before he loosened his grip so you could fall back down.
You felt your body go boneless in his arms from the effort that you had put in, but with the way that Peter lifted you so he could fuck his cock in and out of your hole, you were happy to let go under the effort he gave.
You panted into his sweaty neck, letting out little grunts as you tried to still fuck yourself back down on his cock. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, too focused on that to respond when Peter turned his neck to connect your lips.
In reprisal, Peter bit harshly into your bottom lip before he soothed the mark over with his tongue. The headboard slammed into the wall as Peter thrust over and over into your tight, warm hole. The sound was accompanied by the slick sound of sweaty skin on skin.
When you leaned up, Peter followed so he could stay close and connect your lips. You tried your best to keep up, but ended up with your forehead pressed to his as you panted into his mouth once the kisses were over.
With one hand still braced on his chest, you used the other to wrap your fingers around your cock. After a few tugs of your cock to the rhythm of Peter’s thrusts, your back arched and your head fell back as your orgasm washed over you.
You opened your eyes during the aftershocks as Peter chased you into orgasm. He held your asscheeks in a bruising grip as he thrust inside your hole. You almost wanted to open your mouth and let out a whimper of pain at the grip he held you in, but he soon relaxed as he fell over the edge.
Peter gave one final thrust when he let go of your ass, instead moving his hands to your back so he could pull you close. He groaned over and over again, each noise ending with a breathy moan as he came deep inside you.
You buried a hand in his sweaty hair as he ducked his head down into the crook of your neck. Peter held you close even after his cock had gone soft, his only movement being a slight shift for his cock to slip free.
You felt warm and sticky in his arms. You knew Peter had a mess that coated his chest from where your cock had shot ropes of cum, and you knew that you were equally messy where Peter’s cock had been, but you didn’t want to move.
Peter fell back down to the bed with a groan before pulling your body down on top of his. Though he wrapped you tightly in his arms, you still couldn’t contain your shiver as everything on and leaking out of you began to cool.
Peter gave a low chuckle, “did I not warm you up enough?”
You pressed your smile into the sweaty crook of his neck, “I might need your bathrobe.”
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chao-thicc-hcs · 11 months
Note
Hi there I really love your work and I was wondering if you could make a head cannon with hanma, manjiro/mikey and sanzu about "if their little sister was sexually harassed or touched inappropriately", not for any weird reasons I just really want comfort✌️😎 ( this is like my first time requesting anything so if it doesn't immediately notify when you respond could you maybe tag me? )
thank you!
a/n: my love goes out to everyone who's experienced such horrible things, including you, anon. ♡ i hope you're all feeling better and i am incredibly sorry, you never deserve it, nobody does.♡ love you all.♡
also, for further notice, i cannot tag you if you're anonymous, because i don't know your username. but your request was sent, thank you for the kind words!
featuring: bonten!sanzu, mikey; toman!sanzu, mikey; hanma shuji
warning(s): mentions of se!ual assault, death, bl00d, bone breaking, drug usage, weapons in general, torture
If their little sister got harassed
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Hanma↷
The fucker that did this to her has signed a death contract
You know that shit is gonna go bad when he loses his grin
Will ask her to give him all possible details of the fucker, where she saw him, when it happened, how they looked
He's going to be with her the whole entire time, accompany her everywhere she goes, glaring at anyone who keeps their gaze on her for longer than 2 seconds
If she doesn't feel well, he will understand that, and won't force her to go outside if she refuses to. But he will always be in the same room as her, comforting her with pats and snacks
He's not good with words at all, and will comfort her by watching shows, playing games, or just buying her food
If she has the power to go out, Hanma will spoil her with gifts
Takes her to her favorite bakery and eats sweets with her, trying to make her forget about the encounter
Gives piggy back rides, deffo
For shits and giggles, he will tease her about their childhood memories and probably will chase her around a field, or play hide and seek with her
Always makes sure to check up on her, though, and walks with her to and after school
Definitely gets Kisaki involved and both devise a plan to hunt the bastard down and kill them
Spoiler - it's successful.
Hanma makes sure their death is slow and painful, torturing them first
Kisaki is filming everything
They touched you? Both their arms are now broken
They did something more? Their genitals are cut
If she has a strong stomach, Hanma won't hesitate to show her the video
Even after months and years, he will still interrogate every single new friend his sister makes, especially if it's a guy
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toman!Mikey↷
He will cry
No, really, he deffo will cry with her
Buys tons of dorayaki and taiyaki to eat with her and bawl their eyes out together
Has a big blanket wrapped around them and asks Emma to make them lots of ramen to eat together
He will bring her with him at all times, and even when he cannot be around, he will tell either Draken or Takemichi to look after her
Follows you like a dog, he's way too afraid to let you out alone anymore
Emma will also comfort you with him, taking you shopping, making you cook with her and etc.
Mikey will be goofier so he makes you laugh, or he will do stupid shit that will make your life flash before your eyes, just so you forget about all that for a while
Always tries to talk to her and develop very deep topics (without any sexual ones) so she can relax around him and talk in peace
Asks for in depth narration of how her day went, listens to all the new gossip from school or just in general
Goes to the arcade with her. A huge try-hard that wins all the games and gets her plushies, competes with her on who will eat more taiyaki (he always wins but lets her win instead)
However, deep inside, under all this happiness, Mikey will be boiling with rage and is desperately trying to find the person who did this to her
He wants to deal with them alone, and he does so
Manages to get some information from her beforehand, and he makes sure the bastard never touches another human being again
Mikey ambushes him, and beats him to a pulp, carrying the blood of the assaulter with pride
bonten!Mikey↷
Oh lord
He will be furious, and it will be prominent even under his blank expression.
Goes insane, trashing and walking around the entire building like a maniac searching for their stash (after she's left, he doesn't want her to see him like this)
Asks her to tell him everything, absolutely
Immediately orders Kokonoi to take her out shopping, buy her all the shit she lays her eyes upon, and lets her order everyone around for the time being
If not, he doesn't leave the room without her, always supervises her and stays near her
Not good with words , but somehow tries making his presence more.. comforting around her
Doesn't act too harshly in front of her, so to not scare her
Pats her head and tells her "It's not your fault" "I'll make sure this never happens to you again."
Teaches her self defense, and buys her all sorts of pepper sprays, knives (he'd never let her use a gun or katana in her life) and etc.
Still asks his subordinates to keep an eye out on her when she has to go out (he cannot go out for obvious reasons)
Doesn't sleep until he finds who did this to her
Makes sure their death is gruesome and slow, and uses all torture methods bonten has to offer
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toman!Sanzu↷
Doesn't say anything, nor has a hasty reaction
Would take her to a bakery, order cheesecake and listen to her vent about it
Listens attentively, and doesn't dare to interrupt
Abides by her wishes the entire day, buys her food, carries her on his back, does everything she asks him to
Another one who isn't good with words. But his love languge will be cleaning her room and taking over her chores, placing a packet of snacks on her desk, every time
Tells her teachers not to bother her too much until she's feeling better
Hugs her, but for no longer than 5 seconds
For the sake of her wellbeing, Sanzu lets her do his hair, his skin care, pluck his eyebrows, and even try on new make up
Watches her from the shadows, all the time. She doesn't notice him at all, but he's there, ready to act when needed
If she manages to give him information on how the person looked, Sanzu will hunt them down with Muto
Muto will beat them to a pulp, and Sanzu will cut off their fingers one by one
bonten!Sanzu↷
Man's furious
Doesn't even fucking wait, demands to find the fucker right now on the spot
He cannot sit straight knowing that the person hasn't been dealt with
Makes her choose how the bastard is dealt with. She wants him to get killed? Good. Drugged to death? Done. Tortured to the point of complete insanity and desperation? Hell yeah.
If she doesn't want to watch nor stay around, Sanzu will keep the bastard in a basement, torturing them every day.
As for comfort, he's not much different from his younger self.
Will probably ask her to do drugs with him but Ran and Rindou will punch him
Brings her random stray animals for her to pet and play with
Long, long night walks around the city, talking about random shit that makes her forget about everything
Lets her style his hair, again
Books trips to whenever, asking Koko to help with the money, of course. Most of the time it is outside Japan
Makes sure the memories are unforgettable (most of the time it's him doing crazy shit like starting random fights, tripping over, doing hand stands on children's playgrounds)
Enjoys playing their favorite music and dance with her
Gives her in depth lessons of how to use weapons, and would even lend her his katana (but will always supervise her)
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©chao-thicc-hcs; reblogs are deeply appreciated, i always read your tags
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delta-pavonis · 2 months
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Last Line Tag Game x4
I have had FOUR people tag me in this game in the past few weeks but my life has been categorically WACKYDOODLES so I am just getting to this now. And SINCE it has been so long since I posted a single slim word, here is one blurble for each tag. @tj-dragonblade, @tryan-a-bex, @zzoomacroom, @moorishflower thank you for the tags!! In return I tag... anyone who is excited about A Thing and wants to share! I want to know what y'all are working on that you are excited about! ALL OF YOU!! BWAHAHA. From a still untitled Castlevania: Nocturne (blame @dancinbutterfly for pointing me towards Olrox fic) Olrox/Adrian WIP that is fanfic of the fanfic Until the Sun Rises Again by @ifishouldvanish:
He decides to deflect, smirking as he looks at Adrian through his lashes. “Are you asking me about vampires who I have taken as lovers? Bold move. Considering applying to join their ranks?” One golden eyebrow arches. Something flashes in those keen eyes as he lets the silence stretch. Olrox feels the temperature of the air change when Adrian makes a decision, a fraction of a second before he responds. “Apply? I thought I was already offered the position.” The surprise alone makes Olrox throw his head back and laugh, a burst of deep amusement the likes of which he has not felt in far, far too long. Adrian sits with a smirk clear in his eyes as Olrox lets his laughter peter off naturally. When he is done he tilts his head to the side, studying the beautiful, witty thing before him with simmering desire coursing through his veins.  Throwing caution to the wind, Olrox leans forward and grabs Adrian’s hand, brings the bone-white fingers towards his lips, and enjoys watching the dhampir’s pupils dilate. “That you were. And the offer stands for there are so many different positions you could fill.” Something dangerous glints in his eyes and then, with a twist of his wrist, Adrian is holding Olrox’s chin in his hand and pressing the nail of his thumb into the vampire’s bottom lip. He doesn't gasp, not quite, but he does freeze, entranced by this turn of events. “So you agree that I would be the one doing the filling, do you? Pity,” the nail, sharp as a razor, slides sideways and brings up the smallest drop of blood. “I had rather hoped there would be a struggle over it.” Olrox inhales sharply and stares. This is it. This is the fulcrum, the turning point. He can taste it.
Now three Dreamling WIPs... which I will put under a cut because not a single one of them isn't filthy, first two more than the last. CW for D/s relationships, edging, fisting (and mention of some extreme versions at that), charity auction for a date with a person, concerning lube choices, semi-public sex in the back of a car
From the next fic in the museum curator Dream/doctor and TikToker Hob series, currently titled Special Exhibition, where Hob ended up fisting Dream before Dream got up to ride him:
“Another night you’re gonna come like this, with half my arm buried in you,” Hob looks up and meets Dream’s heavy-lidded, lust-fogged gaze with his own. “But not tonight.” He pulls his hand out, slowly, with some extremely loud protest from Dream, but then grabs the lithe man by the waist and rolls them so he is laid out on his back with Dream straddling him. The leather chaps creak with the quick movements. “Now take what you need, my sweet Dream.” Dream growls greedily, teeth bared, as he maneuvers himself over Hob's hips. “Gladly. Though you may soon rethink the suitability of the adjective sweet.” He howls when he seats himself onto Hob's cock then immediately starts seeking his pleasure, riding Hob fast and hard, changing angles and rolling his hips until he finds the spot that forces all the air out of his lungs all at once with a deep groan. Dream repeats the motion, slamming himself down faster and harder on each pass until he is making one constant warbling noise. 
It’s hot and slick and not goddamned enough. Dream is busy using Hob’s cock to pound his prostate into oblivion, without a care for the fact that he is so deliciously open his hole isn't actually giving Hob much to work with at all. He is held hard by the ring around the base, but otherwise it is a maddeningly teasing glide of heat around him. Dream is hard and leaking and Hob watches as his spine arches and Dream… doesn't come. He has his long fingers wrapped tightly around his cock, squeezing out a noise of frustration. “Gonna edge myself on you, baby. Use you to drive myself to insanity. Only after I’ve had my fill am I going to take that ring off you. Maybe then I’ll be tight enough to provide stimulation for you.” Sweet Christ.
This is from bury me with my guns on, the WIP I have where Hob is former mafia doing a fishbowl rescue with his former lover (my OC Sandro). Dream is having post-fishbowl touching people issues and Sandro has the bright idea that Dream should instead tell Sandro what to do to Hob, to act through Sandro. They've just finished that scene and are playing with the idea of Dream calling Sandro "his tool":
“Anything you ask of me,” tumbles out of Sandro's mouth before he can think better of it. “I know every sexual fantasy of every human who has ever dreamt upon this Earth.” His eyes are heavy-lidded, smoldering. “There is a terrible variety of things I could ask of you.”  “Hob knows better than you my willingness to comply… to obey.” He can’t help but smirk. Dream’s expression darkens further. “You wish to be tested?” Sandro can tell that Hob is going to interrupt, so he speaks loudly and quickly. “You said you wanted to see what I am capable of, yes?” “Sandro, don’t–” “Then I will see you take Hob’s fist,” Dream practically purrs. “And then his arm. To the elbow.” Sandro is pretty sure he blacks out for a minute at the thought. When his awareness returns Hob is soothing him as if he is a scared animal. “Please, my bird, you don't have–” “I have never wanted anything more.” Hob's mouth snaps shut and he stares at Sandro. “Do it, my love. I would have you fuck me wider and deeper than I have ever been. Show Dream his naming me his tool is not misplaced.” He grinds in Hob's lap. “And perhaps, if I am Dream’s tool, I am his substitute, then if you do well enough with me, you will be allowed to do the same to Dream himself? One day?” Hob goes deathly still and just his eyes slide to Dream, who has gone even more lax in his corner of the couch.  “Hmm,” he runs a hand down his black T-shirt clad chest, down his abdomen, and it cuts the fabric as it goes, opening it like he pulled a zipper. “The fae folk call me the Shaper of Forms. It would be of little consequence for my body to accept both of Hob's arms up to his biceps if he wished it be so.” The cry that emerges from Hob is the sound of a man going insane.
Last is from a brand new WIP inspired by an ask that @gabessquishytum answered that my brain took in a totally different direction, including flipping who is on the auction block... for context Hob and Dream knew each other in college and Hob is now the increasingly popular host of Britain's Favourite Dancer, who is up for "auction" as a fundraiser. Dream bidding an obscene amount for him is the first time they have seen each other since Dream promised he would come back to Hob 15 years ago. They barely make it to Dream's car out back.
Dream is pulling Hob out of his suit with ruthless efficiency, clothing being flung all over. He’s down to his skivvies when Dream’s shirt is finally coming off and Hob cannot help but boggle even as he is wriggling out of his underpants. “Holy hell, when did you get all this, dove?” Hob’s got his boxer-briefs around one ankle and that will have to do because he refuses to take his hands away from all the dark chest hair that has just been revealed to him. Pale skin takes on a charming blush everywhere Hob touches. “I… used to wax. Thought you,” Dream groans and leans into Hob’s hands, “I thought you preferred it.” Hob stops his roaming hands and brings them very deliberately up to frame Dream’s angular face, forcing eye contact, which only makes the man above him blush more. “I should have been clearer then. I prefer you. It doesn’t matter what it is or how it looks: if it is you or yours, that is what I want.” Dream is kissing him in an instant, with a lack of finesse and hungry teeth, as he shucks off the rest of his clothing. “Then there's no question that you want to take my cock.” He says that as he settles between Hob's thighs, presses both their pricks together with one of his hands. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” Hob arches into it, voice high-pitched and thready, eyes slamming closed. “But if you keep twisting your hand like that I’m gonna come before you get to the main event.” Fuck. Dream’s hand actually speeds up. “Good. I could use something other than spit to finger you open with.” Hob doesn't even try to contain the moan that image draws from him. “Then I am going to fuck you until you’re hard again. Might take a while. Maybe until the benefit auction lets out around us. Can you imagine that? You never were a quiet lover… you know that I can make you scream loud enough for passersby to hear. Think they would recognize your voice, hoarse with pleasure? I can see the headlines now, Beloved TV Host Out on Medical Leave–Railed to Within an Inch of His Life.” Hob would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't busy coming harder than he has in the past decade. 
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snickerdoodlles · 21 days
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WIP game
i was tagged by @doyou000me and @the-cookie-of-doom to do this, so let's gooo. please send in asks, i love these games, but i will also be answering these during breaks as i catch up on work, so it might take me a bit to respond (but i will respond to all of them!)
RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
*as i said, i'm doing this as i catch up on work and so i will be breaking both rules myself, but for whoever else i tag that wants them! 😂 i will also be breaking the third unofficial rule because i have more WIPs than just kinnporsche, but. idk. i might put a few at the end, but some require a lot of context to explain and meh
ANYWAYS:
idiots & idioms (series): --[pot stirring] (vegas youtube) --[worms???] (series finale)
talk shit, get hit (series): --porsche coda --kimchay joongle --[king's knight]
fake omegaverse
heart burdened
Insatiable (*cw: incest)
Single Star Review
The Lives of Mr. Gold (*gone fishing fic off-shoot)
timeloop
Your Presence Surrounds
i also have more story ideas for Vampire Thrall (vampire!kim) and Hoarding for Beginners (dragon!chay). mostly horny stuff tho.
as for non-kp stuff uhh. jeff cinematic universe is like...too much to explain lol, but i have a WIP for wuju bakery (yes, the one that's STILL NOT OUT) you can ask about! i also have a lot of bad buddy stuff that's been haunting me, waiting for the right mood to strike. i dont want to list those out here, but you can ask about any incomplete fic/series from my AO3 or [grasshoppers and elephants] fic! ^^b
uhhh gonna tag some writing friends i recognize from my recent notifications. i am so sorry if i accidentally tag someone who isn't a writer here lol, but tagging: @iworshipsappho @faillen @semantics-error @moondal514 @kumeko @fawndlyvenus @lori0018 @alanblackthrone @sweet-william-writes @technicallyburninggarden @okaybutlikemakeitgay @vyther16 and anyone else who's been waiting for a tag to do this ❤
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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months
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thank u @zenstrike for the tag <333333333 i see ur mic and i'm elated about it
1. how many works do you have on ao3?
185! but i haven't updated in like a week and a half so we're probably closer to 190
2. what’s your total ao3 word count?
556,104. i am very excited to watch it jump up when i finally finish my longfic teehee
3. what fandoms do you write for?
literally just voltron lol. well not counting baby me's wattpad lol. i started writing almost two years ago and just went ham basically. i've been intentionally avoiding things that i know i will get hyperfixated on bc i don't want to stop my writing obsession lol
4. what are your top five fics by kudos?
ooooou i'm excited to check. i know it's changed quite a bit over time. i usually sort them by hits!
i will grind you to sand (beneath my louboutin heels) [voltron, 2573 words]: bamf lance fic where i give him a revolver and let him go ham basically
mr. snuggles [voltron, 1656 words]: one of my very earliest fics! lance, lover of weirdo animals, finds a demonic cat-sized spider and adopts it despite his friend's freakouts
he might not look like he gets bitches (but honey that dick was eleven inches) [voltron, 1136 words]: this one is so dorky lol but it's just secret relationship klance coming to light in the most embarrassing possible way
does anyone know where the love of god goes (when the waves turn the minutes to hours) [voltron, 4283]: a canon divergence au where lance is a seer and convinces the skeptics on his team of his abilities by ending the war
this is the part of me that you're never gonna ever get away) [voltron, 3262 words]: a lance & shiro hurt/comfort with a small autistic lance character study! i'm very proud of this one
5. do you respond to comments?
i definitely do on tumblr! it's one of the first things i do when i wake up actually. on ao3, though...i'm pretty sure i have about eight hundred unanswered comments sitting in my inbox 💀 it's an ongoing issue
6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
i'm almost sure it's this post-game show lance leaving fic, because i got comments and asks for weeks begging me to write a happy ending lol. but this fic from the hana universe, from when keith is little and shiro is fighting for custody and they haven't figured things out yet. that one is sad. this dream pov adashi fic is also sad and has no happy ending bc, you know. shiro is in space and adam thinks he's dead and everything. my loneliest series is also still in progress and as such there is no happy ending. and this is my earliest angsty-ending fic with MCD
7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
oh god pretty much everything i write has a happy ending?? if i’m being serious?? frankly i don’t do a lot of linear plot. i just write Scenes that are vaguely connected. BUT my h2o fic had a plot that ended happily, as did my cowboy fic, but truly i’m more of a slice of life kinda gal. all my active wips are plot-driven, though, and i plan for all of them to end happily.
8. do you get hate on fics?
oh god yeah. i get it on brown eyed lance, autistic lance, adhd keith, allura just in general (are you sensing a pattern), my refusal to use readmores, and lately just some demands for me to write differently/more?? most of it is just funny so i post it to goof on it lol, but some of it i just delete and pout about until i forget about it 💀
9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?
yes and it’s nasty and i will literally never ever post it. although i guess i’ve written some softer stuff that’s more allusion than anything, like in my loneliest series.
10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?
not anymore, but i did when i was a kid?? i think i wrote a pjo/hoo/divergent/the mortal instruments/homestuck/a bunch of other shit fic when i was 13. i’ve successfully blocked that era out of my mind tho so i’m not sure. i do a lot of insane aus, tho. i wrote a fic based off a country song written in the sixties. so.
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
i’ve had people write continuations of my wips?? which i didn’t rly like. i just ignored it.
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
someone has asked me about translating a fic before! haven’t heard anything since tho.
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
i have tried. i’m not very good at it. i have very Specific ideas about things and can be very controlling, so it’s honestly better that i don’t lol.
14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?
klance, easy. been in the trenches of this goddamn fandom since i was 13 years of age. it’s been a Journey.
15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
god, the butterfly effect. i get people asking me to update all the time and i genuinely feel bad, because i have absolutely no ideas or plans for it. i might try to come up with an ending of some kind?? but i wrote that like two years ago, so i have changed a LOT about my writing since then.
16. what are your writing strengths?
dialogue and humour, i think. and sometimes writing lack of emotional communication (if that makes sense — i like to try and write around an emotion).
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
i over explain a lot. and i overuse dialog ur tags sometimes. i have a Very Specific scene playing out in my head and i want everyone else to see it like i’m seeing it, which is my downfall a lot. i’ve been trying to work on implicit stage directions.
18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
i think sometimes it’s necessary? it can be a good tool for humour, like with cussing that can’t be achieved in english. but while i understand and read several languages i have always always struggled to speak or write in them. it’s very frustrating so i often avoid the subject entirely lol.
19. first fandom you wrote for?
i’ve been writing fanfic in my head since before i knew what it was, but i started typing things at around 11 when i used to homestuck roleplay with my friends lol. messy messy times.
20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?
oh i am my own target audience. i have several.
i need a man (who’s patient and kind): keith-centric post canon (divergence) fic where lance takes him to his family and keith is good with kids and just keith being loved is the whole point. always.
what if i lose it all: an alternate universe where lance, as a baby, loses both his parents, and then is raised by his oldest siblings. in luis’ pov.
when does a ripple become a tidal wave (when does the reason become the flame): brogane fight & angst canon divergence post season 6; covering shiro’s guilt complex and keith’s unwavering loyalty
he’s into superstitions (black cats and voodoo dolls): halloween verse with witch lance and vampire keith! i have barely spoken about this au on here but rest assured i’m thinking about it all the fucking time
the applebee’s universe: modern au with young keith and lance learning how to love each other
ceilings (plaster): non-linear dream-like fic that’s just so trippy and strange i’m obsessed with it
if the sky comes falling down (for you) there’s nothing in this world i wouldn’t do: a keith character study about how the biggest bleeding heart in the universe loves
the hana universe: brogane-centric universe as their family starts rocky and grows
thank u again for the tag zen <33 open offer for anyone else who would like to hop on!!
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writeshite · 2 years
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it’s ur fellow anon here. !!
just wanted to request bratty!sub!steve harrington x dom!male reader smut!
steve wants to be a brat to y/n abt something stupid, so be it. he gonna get punished tho 😏
I’d really appreciate it if you responded, but ik u might be busy. much love🫶🏽
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Guilty As Charged
Summary:
Well, as it turns out, in this relationship between you and Steve, Steve is what the cultured man would call a sub, now you were a calm dom, and while he appreciated the careful adoration and slow pace you set, Steve personally loved it more when you laid into him rough. And what is the best way to get what he wants? Channel his inner shithead, and drive you up the wall, which is precisely why Steve is currently spread across your lap and doing his best to piss you off.
Pairings:
Steve Harrington x Male!Reader
Tags:
Bratty Sub!Steve Harrington | Dom!Reader | Smut | Biker!Reader | Cockwarming
Words: 675
Author's Note:
I made Reader a biker because I can and I'm sorry this turned out short 😅
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Steve is a careful-ish guy; he’s smart; he knows if you push someone’s buttons far enough, they’ll snap. It happened with Nancy back when he was the biggest douche to grace this side of Indiana. Granted, he also has the self-preservation instincts of a newborn calf, considering he did sort of fall head first - literally - into you when you rocked up to Scoops Ahoy. Now seeing a biker - denim jacket, tattoos, scary demeanor, and all - rock up to an ice cream shop is an experience, especially when said biker makes you feel things. You can bet Steve jumped you the first chance he got - behind the counter during closing times - but you might ask, what does that have to with pushing people’s buttons?
Well, as it turns out, in this relationship between you and Steve, Steve is what the cultured man would call a sub, now you were a calm dom, and while he appreciated the careful adoration and slow pace you set, Steve personally loved it more when you laid into him rough. And what is the best way to get what he wants? Channel his inner shithead, and drive you up the wall, which is precisely why Steve is currently spread across your lap and doing his best to piss you off. Whatever he was doing was working pretty great because the grip you had on his arm was getting a bit tighter. 
“Babe, quit it,” you sternly said, “I’m trying to concentrate.”
Steve, being the bastard that he is, decides that isn’t enough of an incentive to stop; instead, he stands, swipes your homework away, and lies across the table. “The report’s due in a week,” he whines. When you still ignore him, he grabs your stationary and shoves it away before pocketing anything else you try and get. You placed your arms on the table and leaned down, “You’re playing a dangerous game there, Harrington.”
“Am I?” He asks flirtatiously, propping one leg up, “What are the rules? And what do I get for breaking them?”
You grab his leg and drag him to the edge of the table; he sits himself up, arms winding around your shoulders; Steve tilts his neck, and you hover along the skin there, placing the barest of touch. Something that slowly begins to drive Steve insane as he tries to drag you closer for more, but you keep your distance. Finally, you do as Steve anticipates, closing the space; you bite his neck lightly when the first hickey is down, and Steve is in bliss; you flip the script and shove him, face down, onto the table. Leaning by his ear, you chuckle cruelly, “You want to behave like a brat; I’ll treat you like one.”
“Arms out front, legs spread,” you command, “Now!”
Steve feels the red creeping in when he follows your orders, his pants come down, and he yelps when your hand makes contact with his skin. “Count.”
“Ouch! One, two, three….ouch!” He starts off rocky but doesn’t get any better as each hit gets more painful than the last; you get as far as fifteen, and Steve is clinging to the edge of the table. He looks at you over his shoulder, and you smile, hitting him one more time.
“Look at that; have I rendered the great Steve Harrington speechless?”
Steve groans, “No…just….” you don’t let him finish; pushing back onto the table, you yank at his dick.
“Oh, we’re not done, sweetheart,” you grin, “See, that report needs to be done, so you’re gonna sit real quiet until I finish, got it?”
He grumbles something under his breath, though that’s taken back when you yank his cock again, “Ye–yes—”
“Good boy,” you sit back, unzipping your pants, and patting your lap, when he’s got you whole dick inside him, he shuffles and whimpers. You pull back whatever papers you can reach and carry on with your work, as Steve lies his head against the table, groaning and complaining all the while. “Now you sit there, and keep quiet."
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End Note:
I'm getting to the other asks in my inbox just gimme a minute 😅 Stay Hydrated.
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Here at i-am-an-arson-enthusiast, we i am dedicated to bringing you top quality content such as but not limited to: gay things, cats, and even live arson that you don't even have to tune into!!
hi this is my intro post :D
basic questions that i love answering
“hey what should i call you” good question. i dont really care, most of my mutuals call me arson. thats cool. bc i love arson. (clearly) but you can call me really whatever. planet names are dope as shit, but only @marcysbear gets to call me neptune. also enthu is off limits, only @terrifying-acceptance gets to call me that.
for the record: if you call me either of those names and are not either of them, that is crossing a genuine boundary of mine. you ARE NOT allowed to call me those names if you are not the designated person for that.
“ur gay” woah really i didnt know that ur like the first person ever to notice that!! (no ur not, ive known that for years)
“what type of gay” yes. the easiest way to explain it is bisexual. that being said: i use bisexual surprizingly little. i call myself lesbian and gay all the time (as in wlw and mlm).i’m polyamorous and arospec. month three of my identity crisis: uh i think the term arospec works well bc idk where the fuck i am on it but i’m definetly on this spectrum! grayromantic also works i think.
“gender????” im genderfluid. which explains the pronoun changes. im also trans, nb, genderqueer, and any of the genders and terms i need to articulate what the silly lil dudes in my head make me feel.
AUDHD :D explains why i am obsessed with space (going back to names planet names are cool and epic btw)
“do u horny post on main???” i reblog horny posts to my main but i dont normally do the original horny posting. tell me if i need to tw that btw :3
my cool and epic tags
i try to consistanly use them but sometimes i dont. sorry.
woah i’m using queue - i’m actually queuing a post for once instead of spam reblogging (which i mostly do sorry not sorry)
woah a real text post - me positing an actual text post for once but it’s becoming more common
cool ass art - art that i reblog (it’s all cool)
arson does half way decent art sometimes - my art. art i made. yea
the beloved - my beautiful beautiful queer platonic partner @terrifying-acceptance who i tag in a lot of shit :]
i will keep adding more as i remember them and make them so yea :D also i try to tag for things but i often dont add tw or cw because. idk. just havent ever done that. if you need me too you can tell me in any form and ill try my gaddamn hardest to add them. feel free to *kindly* remind me if i forgot. (as in no verbal abuse ya know. if ur scared ur probably fine)
the last section that is mostly important for followers :]
if u wanna follow me it’d be cool if you have a banner and pfp but as long as ur like not a bot ur good.
feel free to ask questions :) this is the point at which i tell you that i love getting asks and dms. my dms are always open unless i am dead. (current status: alive at very least.) also i am in school so you are practically guaranteed to get a response not immediately. give me 12-24 hours to respond before being offended. after that it’s fair game.
I genuinely do not care and give no fucks about what you believe and how you live your life as long as you dont hurt yourself or others, you are not offended by me being very not religious/spiritual and you do not shove it down anyones throat.
I mostly do reblogs and tag them as such half the time
lastly if you interact with this post it lets me know that you read it but i’m gonna look at your profile anyway if u follow me so you don’t have to.
thank you for reading all of that i know it’s long. your cool so here’s a cookie 🍪 also here have this
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credit to @v-4-l-0-n and @theprideful :)
(order of the banners are “exclusionists fuck off”, then this user loves being a lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, genderfluid, then non binary)
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captainbobbin · 1 day
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tagged by @goth-automaton yeehaww
Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!
I am gonna skim over a couple of fics though that I think were a bit rushed haha - my last batch of fics that came out were all done as part of my one-fic-per-day challenge so some of them are a bit scrappy haha; sue me for only using the fics from that challenge that I felt came out a little more solid lmao
Bearbaiting (nsfw)
“Prove it,” Astarion had spat, and none too kindly.
Earth, Comet, Eclipse
“Your dad's sleeping tonight,” Terra explained once Xion found him outside. He’d asked her earlier in the day to find him, and now he leaned against the wall and gave her an easy smile, which she returned. She liked Terra. She liked how comfy he was, how easy he was to be around. He gave a nod towards the wooded area nearby, the expanse of forest that hugged the edge of one of the rivers that ran around the Land of Departure. “Berserk, however, is up and hunting. Thought we'd go make it a game. You in?”
Midas
“Sanji,” Zeff whispers, hunched by the kitchen door and peering out, tone hushed and severe. Usually it's eggplant or brat or boy. Must be important. When Sanji totters over he's barely hip-height, far too young to be in a galley and far too young to be anywhere else. A hand plants on his head carefully to corral him, aim his gaze outward, and above and below they share the two-inch gap of the door and look out at the dining room. “Look.”
Afterimage (nsfw)
Saïx was pretty familiar with Xemnas’ abilities. Not all of them, which would infuriate him if only he was lucky enough to be allowed such a feeling for Saïx always wanted to know more, but for the most part Xemnas’ strange quirks and magical talents had stopped being unexpected. He’d grown numb to Xemnas floating off of the floor, to lights responding and things moving with barely even a glance, to thorns of nothing winding around things Xemnas’ wanted brought closer - himself included.
Trained Talent (nsfw)
There was a bit of a stereotype about jesters; that they were all secretly miserable, hard done by, only putting on a brave face and faking their cheer because at all times they were at risk of being admonished by whichever member of royalty they tried to entertain. That performers wore masks and actually suffered behind their smiles. There was a nugget of truth to it - a smile is a good way to cover up a frown, after all - but the truth that was more potent was that being a clown was a position of power.
Budbloom
Elliott, truthfully, didn’t spend that much time at the cabin these days.
The Front
Sanji wasn't an idiot. He knew from the first moment he applied for the job that Raindinners was sketchy as fuck. He'd been around, knew kitchens, could tell when corners were being cut - and believe him, they're cut often in a lotta places - but this was something else altogether.
Headspace
“What do you want, Booga?” Jasper snarled as the other Spectral Sentinel all but waltzed into his private quarters after the sound of grating rumbling shook the entire floor. The dull creature had no concept of boundaries and Jasper knew that that was not about to change, but by the goddess he ought to at least learn to knock adequately.
Shear
Xemnas thought often about the concept of trust.
Deathroll (nsfw)
Surviving past lovers, had they the gall, might go so far as to call Crocodile lazy.
I'm surprised that I don't start with dialogue more often - I feel like I often open the fic with something spoken or something that comes back later, but it seems that I actually often start with an establishing paragraph that sets up the point of view characters current emotional state/line of thought. Which isnt a bad thing tbh! Though I think I'm going to have to try and change things up now and then haha
anyone who would like to do this meme, feel free to join in! I'd love to see @hroggins, @winxixia, @finlands-beret share their version and their thoughts but no pressure of course!
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sendpseuds · 8 months
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WIP Wednesday [sorta]
So, I'm going to get a little... personal.
[Something I rarely do.]
I've been— uh— I've been going through it... a little bit...
I'm not going to get into the nitty-gritty of it all but, after several extremely difficult months of grappling with my mental health, medical issues, and severe burnout, I'm finally in a position to really put myself first.
To make sure I'm gonna be okay.
So, I guess, this WIP Wednesday is just—
Me?
*deep breaths*
One of the reasons I wanted to make this post [and my therapist would tell me not to think about this at all but, I am who I am so] is that I know that I haven't been the most active member of this community— especially not recently.
I rarely do any tagged challenges, I have an inbox full of asks*, I almost never do ask-games [mostly because I'm scared I just won't answer the questions], I've disappeared from conversations...
For fucks sake, I have completely stopped responding to comments on AO3...
And it's horrible because every single comment, ask, reblog, kudos, like, message— it means the fucking world to me, but I've just been—
I have been incapable of participating the way I want to.
And I really want to.
I won't make you [or myself] any promises, but—
But I'm really hopeful.
I love this community.
I love writing these stories.
I love sharing these stories with you.
I guess what I'm saying is — if you've tagged me in a challenge that I didn't participate in. If you've sent an ask that I haven't answered [*actually... if it was more than, like, 3 weeks ago you might want to ask it again... I got really overwhelmed and just deleted them all...] If you've commented on a post or fic that I haven't responded to — I cannot possibly express how much I appreciate it.
The support I have received from this community is a huge part of why I was able to finally ask for what I needed in order to take care of myself.
So, while I have no idea if I will ever reply to another comment or reblog another ask-game, I know I'm going to keep writing, and I know I will continue to feel the incredible support of this weird wonderful community.
Thank you.
Thank you for giving me the space to be a work in progress.
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