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#fic: wriggle up on dry land
altschmerzes · 6 months
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you ever work on your wip for a while and then minimize it and do other things or go to bed or whatever and then you open it up to work on it later and get immediately bodied by a line that completely takes you out at the knees that you don't remember writing
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jamiesfootball · 5 months
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Really? In the middle of the night? When I have work today?
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blondeboyfriend · 1 year
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𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (𝟏𝟖+)
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𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈
[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I turned this thirst into a fic. [ SYNOPSIS ] Vash starts emitting sexy pheromones that leave you desperate for his cock. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.5k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, porn without plot, dubcon, vaginal sex, rough sex, size kink, mild dumbification, plantfucking, body horror/weird plant biology, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple play, Vash has a biting kink, self objectification (does that even make sense?), knotting, creampie, cockwarming.
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It was just past midnight. The moons were looming high in the sky, illuminating the desolate land surrounding the town you and Vash had taken refuge in. Your face was pressed against the window, gazing out into the sandy void.
“You see the sky tonight?” you asked.
Vash didn’t bother responding. You turned around and saw his dejected form.
“You’re lookin’ more wistful than usual.”
He was sprawled out on the bed, leaving you little to no room. The lodge you were holed up in only had a single room vacant and of course there was but one measly bed. It was a good enough sized one though; it could definitely provide comfort for you and the gangly mess of a man you called a travel companion.
Vash merely sighed in response to your question and stared up at the ceiling.
His gaze was flat, not a hint of sparkle to his blue-green eyes. His sweet face was held hostage by a delightfully adorable pout. Thoughts of biting down on his bottom lip swirled around you, leaving you flustered and throbbing. You hoped whatever was troubling him wasn’t too serious because otherwise your current state would be disrespectful.
“What’s wrong?” you prodded, taking a seat on the bed. You tried to sound as dry as humanly possible.
He turned his head towards you and gave you the weakest, most pathetic smile. A smile that inspired no faith in what it sought to imply.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answered sweetly.
You glared at him. “Fine. I—Well… I guess I’m going to sleep.” You paused awkwardly. “Goodnight.”
Vash scooted over, granting you space on the mattress. You crawled into place, not bothering to cover yourself with the musty bedding. It smelled too much like sand.
You rolled onto your side, your back facing Vash. You held yourself in a fetal position in hopes it would keep you warm. In a perfect world you’d just snuggle up next to him and leech off the heat his body seemed to radiate. But you didn’t live in a perfect world; you lived in a sandy, inhospitable land.
“Are you cold?” he asked. Such a perceptive one he was.
“A little,” you lied.
“Get under the blankets then,” he suggested.
“No. They smell like sand and… I don’t know, like, armpit sweat.”
He let out a tiny laugh. “I can’t argue with you there.”
You wriggled your shoulders in discomfort. You wanted to curl up next to Vash like a kitten, but with his current mood it just didn’t seem feasible. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him so you would have to bear the drafty room on your own. It would only be for a night; you could handle it.
However after about five minutes of shivering in painful silence, you turned over and faced Vash. He was on his side, facing you. His eyes were shut, his dark lashes catching the moonlight streaming through the windows.
You gently nudged him. “Hey.”
He briefly frowned, but stayed asleep.
You nudged him once more, this time much harder.
“Vash!”
His eyes shot open and he jerked back.
“Ouch! Why are you being so aggressive?”
“I have a question,” you said, giving him puppy dog eyes.
“Ask away.”
“Can we spoon, or snuggle, or something?”
“Uh—”
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I know you… are like… You’ve got something on your mind and I don’t wanna—”
The radiant grin he gave you calmed your nerves. He pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you. Your face was buried into his neck. He smelled like freshly washed linens, undercut by a strange earthy, honey-like scent, a creamy florescent. The chills that cursed your body melted away in his presence.
“Thank you,” you muttered, voice muffled by Vash’s sweet skin.
You inhaled deeply and pressed your body up against his. He felt tense, like his muscles were frozen in place.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked.
“It’s stupid,” he whined.
“I don’t care.”
He paused and took a few slow breaths, preparing himself for the question he was about to pose.
“I really like you and—”
“You wanna fuck me, huh?” you asked, your face adorned with a cat-like grin. You had never been so forward before, but something seemed to possess you.
“Of course I do.” He groaned. “But I can’t because… it’s complicated. And intense.”
“Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”
He rolled onto his back and hid his face behind his hands.
“It’s just different, alright?”
You crawled on top of him, unable to help yourself. His aura was whipping you into a frenzy, the lovely scent emanating from his skin growing stronger and luring you in.
“I like different,” you purred.
He gulped. “I should tell you—”
You didn’t let him speak.“I don’t care what happens.”
Vash blushed. “Let me finish.”
You groaned but relented. “Fine. But be quick.”
“I haven’t, uh, you know… in a while. And when that happens my body produces these pheromones that are supposed to attract a mate.”
“A mate?” you asked, voice wavering. You liked Vash and wanted to fuck him, but mate implied somewhat of a large commitment.
“No! Not a mate! It, well, it makes people want to—”
“Fuck you?” you asked, biting down on your upper lip.
He nodded. “And they kinda… drive me crazy too.” He tacked on a nervous laugh. “Sometimes I can’t control myself which isn’t fair because, well, whoever is… uh… they do whatever I want them to.”
Your cunt was growing wetter by the second.
“So that’s why I want you to use me so bad.”
His eyes were wide, almost sparkling. His cheeks were rosy and the scent emanating from him grew stronger.
You felt as if the room was enveloped in a sensuous haze that seeped into your skin, flowing through your veins. It was consuming you, eating away at your thoughts, leaving behind visions of Vash tossing your legs over your shoulders and driving his cock into your weeping cunt. Your body was growing warmer, almost unbearably so. Every inch of you ached for him. You would know no peace until his body was lording over yours and filling you up with his cum.
“I just.” He averted your lingering gaze. “It’s embarrassing. I hate getting like that. When I do all I can think about is pinning someone down and fucking them until they can’t see straight.”
“That sounds amazing,” you said dreamily. 
Your manner of speaking was much more provocative than it usually was. Your tongue seemed to linger on the letters, leaving each one coated in a honey-like tone. There was almost a hint of a tumultuous moan when you said “aammmaaaaaziiingg.”
Vash looked uncomfortable, but willing. His hands were gripping the sheets as if he was holding on for dear life.
“I know you want me,” you teased, rocking your hips against his. “I’m not lying when I say you can do whatever you want to me. You need it. I know you do.” You cupped his face in your gentle hands. “Let me help you. It’s what I’m here for.”
He laughed. “It’s not, but…”
“Hush,” you said, grabbing a hold of his cock.
It was swollen, begging for release.
You lowered yourself down and pulled down the soft, worn cotton pants he liked to sleep in. His cock sprung up, standing completely upright. The tip was engorged and pink. You rubbed it with the pad of your thumb and watched as Vash winced. His brows knitted together in ecstatic agony.
A few thick veins snaked around his shaft. You ghosted your fingers over them and reveled in his desperate whines. You looked up at him with starved eyes, darkened by your devotion and desire. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft. You grabbed ahold of his cock and stroked it while you rolled your tongue against the tip, savoring the sweet taste of his precum.
He let out a low groan as you pumped his leaky cock. He placed his hand on the back of your head and gently pushed down. You dropped your hand and decided to let your mouth do the work.
Vash eased your head further down, until the entirety of his length filled your mouth. Spit was trickling from the corners of your mouth and tears crept out from the corners of your eyes. He began to thrust, sending the tip of his cock into the back of your throat. You were steadfast and breathed through your nose, fighting your gag reflex.
“Your mouth fe—feels so good,” he stammered.
You placed your hands on his muscled thighs to push yourself off of his cock, but you felt what appeared to be downy feathers sprouting from his skin. It threw you off for a moment before you remembered what you wanted to say.
“Wait until you feel my pussy,” you bragged.
His eyes almost seemed to glow. He gave you a boyish smile before pushing you onto your back with a swiftness that left you in awe. His hands wandered down your body, pawing at your clothes, desperately trying to take them off. Your body felt electric as he undressed you. Each time his warm, slender fingers grazed your skin your body pulsed with delight. 
He kissed your neck before letting his sharp canines graze your tender skin. You hummed in delight, and laced your fingers through his silky hair. He rutted up against your body, the tip of his cock teasing your clit. You whimpered every time it made contact.
He left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest, stopping at your breast. He flicked his tongue against your nipple. He sucked on it, holding it between his soft lips. You relished in the sound of him lapping away. You held onto his shoulders, feeling spiny quills erupting from his scapulae.
“Vash,” you whimpered. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t respond. The quills from his back grew longer and denser. You pricked your finger on one of the sharp tips. You winced in pain and moved your hand down to the small of his back. You watched as the spiny quills became more feather-like. They were pale and iridescent and they left you transfixed. They were so beautiful. They soon covered his back and made their way down his arms. You ran your hand down the length of them. They were soft and sleek, like nothing you had ever experienced before.
“So pretty,” you muttered.
Vash lifted his head from your breast.
“Hm?”
A cluster of eyes has formed in the middle of his forehead. It disturbed you briefly, but the feeling of his cock throbbing against your thigh was enough to make you forget about it.
“Nothing, nothing,” you said, stroking his cheek.
You kissed him, pushing your tongue past his teeth. He held you close and you felt like your body was melting into his. You wanted to become a part of him. He slid his fingers into your cunt, spreading apart your folds. You groaned in frustration. His fingers weren’t enough. You needed his cock.
“Please just fuck me,” you whined, breaking the kiss.
He looked up at you with all of his dazed eyes and wordlessly nodded. He slowly guided his cock inside you. You gasped as your cunt stretched around it. You buried your face into his neck, hoping to mute your cries of pleasure. His thrusts were gentle and deliberate. You could feel that he was holding back.
“Is it too much?” he asked, planting a kiss on your forehead.
You shook your head. “More.”
He gave you a concerned look. “More?”
“Yeah. Fuck me like I’m a whore.”
Vash nearly choked on his own spit.
“C’mon,” you purred. “You know you want to.”
“I can’t. It’ll be too much.”
“My body can take it.”
He frowned. “I could really hurt you.”
“I like it when it hurts,” you said, tightening your cunt around his cock. You kissed him again and held his bottom lip between your teeth. “I’m your toy. You can do whatever you want to me.”
Vash looked at you, holding your gaze, clearly weighing his options. Once he made up his mind an impish grin made its way across his face and he lifted your legs over his shoulders.
His thrusts were significantly more intense than they were previously. He drove his cock into your cunt with a fervor you had never experienced. His cocktip pushed up against your cervix, sending a sharp sensation to your core. You became a panting, moaning mess. You were falling apart at the seams, your body as limp as a doll’s. Vash was able to manipulate your body with ease, essentially folding you in half, leaving your knees close to your face.
You looked up at him as his wings spread out, nearly engulfing you. It was hard to believe this was the same Vash you wandered the desert with. You never would have thought the doughnut eating dork could be so feral. You knew he wasn’t a human, but his true nature being so alien never occurred to you.
As he fucked your limp body into the mattress, you felt your orgasm begin to bloom in your stomach. Your breathing became labored and all you could think about was coming all over his cock.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he growled.
“Uh-huh,” you moaned.
He picked up the pace, his thrusts growing more and more frantic. The room was filled with a symphony of his grunts and whimpers. You were lost in his presence, completely enamored and consumed by it. Your vision blurred and you saw nothing but white as you came. A deluge of fluids dripped from your cunt and coated his cock. You felt like you had ascended to heaven, leaving No Man’s Land in the dust.
Vash continued to thrust as his cock swelled inside you. Spurts of his slippery cum filled your cunt. He exhaled deeply and allowed your legs to fall to the side and laid down on top of you. The two of you tried to catch your breath and let the rapture you were entangled in fade away.
“I’m sorry,” he said bashfully, lifting himself up.
His cock was still buried inside you.
“Why…” You struggled to find your words. “Why are you… sorry?”
“Because! I didn’t want you to ever see me like this. I look like a freak.”
You ran your hand along his wings and made an effort to make eye contact with the cluster of ones on his forehead.
“I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“You’re just saying that because you're high off my pheromones,” he scoffed.
You giggled. “Maybe. But you’re still very pretty.”
You rubbed the short feathers that had sprouted along the apples of his cheeks. He sighed in relief and nuzzled his face into your neck. His cock continued to throb inside you and likely would for a while. You didn’t mind though. Laying under Vash, shielded by his wings from the harsh world outside, was all you could want in such a harsh and unforgiving world.
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Three for One 4
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: How are these getting longer lol
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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You wriggle helplessly as the man straddles you. You kick your feet into the carpeted floor and grunt into his palm. He’s strong and heavy but you can’t give up. And if you can’t win, you won’t make this easy.
He plants his hand between your shoulders, pinning your chest as he leans his weight on you. He grunts as you shift under him, pushing your knees into the ground as you try to bounce him off. You only manage to awkwardly press your ass into his crotch.
“Hey, stay fucking still,” he squeezes your jaw, glove still flush to your mouth, “and shut the fuck up.” You open and close your teeth, trying to find a catch. He snarls and squeezes you between his legs, “are you trying to bite me again? What the fuck?”
“She’s fucking feral,” the driver tosses over his shoulder.
“Shut up,” the man on you barks back, readjusting to one knee as he brings his other over your back, replacing his hand with his leg.
He fumbles around as you try to see anything in the dim of the van’s compartment. His hand slips as his other comes around, a piece of rough fabric rubbing on your cheek. He pokes it into your mouth with two fingers and you nearly gag on the dry wool.
“Shhhh,” he hushes you, “balls, she’s hard to put down.”
“Wasn’t my first choice, trust me.”
“Who let that jackass have final say?” The man over you grumbles.
He drags you with him and reaches above you. You see the edge of the roll of tape as he keeps you trapped under his knee. He swiftly sticks the tape over your mouth so you can’t spit out your gag. Next he grabs your wrists and pulls his knee away.
You tug on your arms, resisting as you keep up your fruitless flailing. No, no, no. You’re not going to just roll over and give in. Get off!
He forces your arms together, winding the end of the tape around your wrists, again and again, until they’re bound taut behind you. He’s panting almost as hard as you are as he plants his feet, standing half bent over you beneath the low ceiling of the fan.
“Damn, well, I didn’t expect her to be so fucking stubborn,” he snickers.
You flip over and shoot your foot up, straight into his crotch. He chokes on his laughter and drops the tape. He cradles between his legs and falls to his knees. He croaks as he catches himself on one hand.
“Goddamn it, you bitch, I was half-cocked,” he contracts as if he’s about to vomit.
You puff through your nose and bend your legs, curling back on your shoulders and using your weight to throw yourself forward. You roll onto your feet, the momentum lifting your ass up but not getting you all the way up. You try again and get one foot and one knee under you.
“What the fuck’s going on back there?” The driver asks as the van rocks with your movement.
“Nothing,” the other man groans and sits up, “nothing at fucking all.”
He swipes his leg across yours and has you slamming back to the floor, this time landing on your shoulder. You grunt and twitch at the jarring pain on your joint. He grabs your arm and hauls you closer. You’re both breathless as he retrieves the tape and fights to bring your ankles together.
He secures your ankles and lets you go. You lean on your hands and watch him as he sits back and swipes his hair away from his forehead. In the small cloud of light from the front of the vane, you see the angle of his jaw and the shaved side of his head.
“God,” he puts his hand over his pants, “I feel that in my throat.” He shakes his head, “don’t worry, pussy cat, you will too. I’m gonna be so fucking deep–”
“Ugh, dude,” the driver mutters.
“Don’t be a fucking prude,” the man stretches his leg out and nudges you with the toe of his boot, “we all know what the hell this is.”
You close your eyes, holding back the hot glaze of tears. You inhale deeply, trying to calm your nerves as they cluster in your chest. A million questions race through your mind but you can’t bring yourself to even imagine the answers.
🎀
The van idles in one spot. You temper your breaths as you listen. The driver gets out as the man in the back with you picks his nails with a knife. He started brandishing a while back. Does he really think you aren’t already scared out of your mind?
There’s some sort of grinding nose and footsteps in the gravel coming back to the van. You move, trying to see the front as the driver gets back in, slamming the door and jolting the entire vehicle. The other man pokes you with his toe, his way of warning you.
“Fucking gate,” the driver mutters as he shifts back into gear and leans on the gas.
You garble around the fabric in your mouth, not making much noise as you wiggle and turn to look at the other man. He yawns and examines the long blade, only a shadow as the darkness invades the van. There’s not much light around to colour the world.
“Almost there, pussy cat,” the man teases, "Merry fucking Christmas… well, I think we still got a few hours before the clock tolls.”
You let your head loll. He’s so annoying. Maybe it’s just the situation or that he’s obviously a very bad person, but he irks you so much. Years of working with the general public and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this much detest for one person. Usually you could just shrug it off and go onto the next. Right now, you’re quite literally trapped.
The van follows what feels to be a curving road, bumpy as it jostles you against the rough carpet. Your adrenaline ebbs and flows as your eyes flutter one moment only to flick open wide the next. The tire treads mulch the snow, slowing, and stops again. It’s almost pitch black as the van shuts off.
The man in the back stands, you feel it in how the axle bounces. He comes close, boots edging along your side as you sense him close. The door slides open behind him and lets in the moonlight. He bends and grabs your feet, turning your body and dragging you towards the door.
You kick but can’t free yourself from his grasp. He shoves your legs down harshly and pulls you up by the front of your coat. In a second, he has you slung over his shoulder as he turns to the other man.
“Where is he?” The man holding you asks as you squirm. He has his arm hooked around you as his other hand comes up to pinch you, “pussy cat, you don’t start wagging that ass unless you want me to punish it.”
You still, stunned by the suggestion. He’s so gross. You whimper as his shoulder presses uncomfortably into your stomach.
“He’ll be here soon. We should get her inside.”
“We should throw her in the snow and see how long she lasts,” the man sneers, “she’s not as nice as he said.”
“We can deal with that,” the other assures.
A flashlight clicks on. You can’t see anything past the man’s jacket. You bounce on his shoulder as he carries you across the uneven ground. He trails the second man as you hear several electronic beeps and the whir of gears. 
A door opens on cold hinges. You’re taken through a doorway as the night air follows you inside. The flashlight’s glare flicks around, illuminating the edges of your vision but offering little more. You hear a click and an overhead light suddenly casts brightly all around you. Still, you can’t see around the man who has you in his grasp.
“Put her in the room,” the other man orders.
“I got it. Don’t act like you’re the boss.”
“Take your own advice. My fucking house.”
“Yeah, and I got the van. Oh, I also came up with the plan, so I’ll say we’re even.”
“You talk a lot.”
The man holding you scoffs, “rich, coming from you.”
“Just like everything else about me. Go on. We gotta wait for him. Figure this shit out.”
“I got it figured out. Strip her down and show her what’s what.”
“We agreed to wait,” the other man insists.
“Oh, so he’s in charge?”
“No, you know he isn’t. I just think… what he said made sense. Go fucking put her in the room so we can talk real shit. I can’t focus with her ass in my face.”
“Tell me about it,” the man slaps your ass and kneads, “it’s like two inches from my mouth–”
You writhe and let out a hollow whine through your nose. He chuckles and falls into step. You lift your head up stiffly as he passes the other man and you meet his eye. You’re not sure if you know him but your gaze falls to the autumnal hued scarf around his neck. You know that scarf.
It can’t be. First Alan and now this guy. This is a conspiracy. It has to be.
You watch the floor change from slated hardwood to patterned carpet and again to dark teak. Down a hall and into another room. Only the light from outside limns your vision as you’re flung from over the man’s shoulder onto an unseen bed. You gasp at the soft mattress, expecting much worse.
“Pussy cat, you stop your hissing and pissing,” he warns as he backs up to the doorway, the light giving a better look at his features, “I’m gonna get to you. Count on it.”
You groan at how the tap chafes your wrists and the smell of the adhesive below your nose. You blink and focus on the man’s silhouette. You think you know him too but you’re not sure. That tuft of hair on his lip seems familiar. Before you can find the memory, his image is blocked out by the door and you’re plunged into sheer darkness.
This can’t be happening. You can’t be here. You have to get home. Who’s going to feed Ernie?
🎀
Your eyes slowly adjust to the dark but you can’t see much. There is not hint of a window to let in any light or even a slat to leak in under the door. More eerie than the deep blackness is the dearth of sound. You can only hear your own breath and the soft squeaks that slip out at your most fraught.
The walls block out anything beyond. That alone is oppressive. If you weren’t tied up, if you weren’t gagged, could anyone even hear your screams?
You wiggle, roll and writhing across the breadth of the mattress. You reach the edge and rock yourself until you can sit up. You inch over the side of the bed until your feet meet the floor. You lean your weight on them and brace yourself.
You’re already out of breath with the effort. You stand, swaying as you struggle to balance on your bound feet. Your knees buckle as you lean this away and that until you can straighten yourself. You hop forward, once, twice, and again. You turn yourself towards where the door shut.
You stagger as you land a bit too hard and you twist, hitting your shoulder on the wall. You huff and puff as the tap grows slick around your lips, the cloth make you gaggle. You sidle, arm again the wall and the handle hits just above your wrist. The metal leaves a thrumming pang in your flesh.
You pivot and lean your back on the door frame, grasp the handle between your hands, sweaty palms struggling to get a grip. You turn this way and that, each time meeting resistance. You squeeze tight and sake yourself and the handle as a croak escape your nose. You didn’t expect it to open but it’s still a defeat.
You slide down to your ass, bending your knees before you as your hands rest behind you on the floor. You hang your head and measure your breaths. You’re not just scared for you, you think of your poor puppy waiting for you. Of you never going home to Ernie. That sparks the fuse to full panic.
You ball your hands to fist and slide down onto your arm. You wriggle down to your back, lifting your legs to the door, setting your boots on it. You pull back and kick, the bang jarring you. You do it again. Harder. You won’t stop. They can’t just leave you here. They can’t ignore you.
A thump comes from the other side. A warning. You kick back, even louder. No response.
You’re exhausted, but you keep going. You kick until your damp with sweat and your legs ache. You bring your feet down over over and until you can’t any more. Then you lay in the blind silence, a sob trapped behind the gag.
Ernie…
You’re almost delirious. Disbelief, fatigue, adrenaline, you’re not sure which. There’s a beeping and a metallic grind. The door shifts, hitting your bent legs as it tries to open. A grunt comes from the other side as the push until you’re forced a few inches up. A light radiates over your suddenly.
You stare up at the white glass shade on the ceiling. The door shoves you further and further. A figure enters and looks down at you. A heavy sigh that tickles your brain. You know it. You look up at that man, Alan or Anthony, as he shuts the door.
He bends to pick you up. He takes you to the bed and puts you on your side. You let him. You can’t do anything else. He puts his hands on his hips as he looks you over. He sits cautiously on the edge of the bed.
“I’m sorry, honey, I hope they didn’t hurt you,” he caresses your cheek and you wince, “I told them to be nice. Wish I could’ve come with you but… I had to sort some things out.”
You bat your lashes, eyes widening. He cooes as pets your hair. “It’s okay, don’t be scared.”
His fingertips brush along the edge of the tape and he slowly peels it away. You groan as he tugs at the corner of the cloth and frees it from your mouth. You cough, your throat raw and dry.
“I can untie you but you have to promise to be good. You don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?”
You close your eyes and nod. He crumple the tape and you hear him place it down. You suck in a deep lungful of air and let out a scream, “HELP!!!!!!!!”
“Hey,” he hisses and quickly smothers your mouth with his large hand, “honey, don’t do that.” He squeezes until you’re quiet, until your jaw aches, “no one can hear you.” He leans over you as your eyes flick open and meet his, “not even the others. Right outside that door and they can’t hear you.”
You search his face. Stern and somber. He looks honest but you would’ve said the same back at the store when he lied to your face. You nod and go limp. Despite his deceit, you believe that.
He reluctantly drags his hand away, “I want to untie you, okay? I don’t want you to be stuck like this all night but if you’re bad, the others… they won’t let me.”
You don’t say anything. You stare past him, to the crux of wall and ceiling. You don’t care about the others or about this man. You only care about one thing.
“I know you’re confused and probably angry. This isn’t a bad thing, okay? We’re not doing this to hurt you, honey,” he rubs your shoulder, “we want to help you. To give you everything you want. Do you really want to spend Christmas alone?”
You rasp as you breath deeply. You wet the roof of your mouth with your tongue then your lips. You keep your eyes averted as you muster your voice.
“You’re married,” you accuse, "you have a family."
He clicks his tongue, “and? You have no one.”
That stings. A deep cut you feel deep in your gut. Your eyes meet his sharply and you pull your shoulder away from his hand. You push your chin out defiantly as a heat rises behind your eyes. You might be alone but it doesn’t mean you’re unhappy. Still, the way he said it…
“That’s not true, I have someone.”
“Honey, don’t lie. I know you don’t. I know you live on Fort Street in that square yellow building. Apartment 325. Just you. It’s a bachelor at the corner–”
“Stop, stop,” you beg him. “How do you know that?”
“Does it matter how?” He says lowly, “Honey, i’ve been nice, haven’t I? If you’re nice, I’ll stay that way and I’ll make sure the others don’t hurt you.”
You crinkle your nose and give a fearsome snarl you know must look ridiculous. You don’t care about these men or what they want. You don’t even care about yourself. 
“I do have someone,” you insist, “Ernie.”
“Ernie?” He echoes.
“My puppy,” you hiss, “and I’m not going to be nice–” You grit the last word through clenched teeth, “unless you take me to him right now.”
“The dog?” He wonders.
“He needs to be fed and walked. I’m his mama and I need to see him,” you demand, your emotion finally bubbling up to the surface, “and until you take me home, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” You dig your nails into your palms and let out a shrill shriek. The blood curdling type you hear in horror movies.
The man covers his ears and stands. You do it again as you bounce on the bed. You must look crazy but you don’t care. Maybe if you’re crazy enough, they’ll let you go. You suck in a third breath and scream even louder.
He grimace but doesn’t stop you. He backs up and stomps to the door. You keep going until it locks behind him.
They think you’re weak because you’re alone. You’ve worked retail, you can handle a couple of psychos.
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bendycxmet · 2 months
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Hi! How are you? I hope you are doing well <3 I binge-read all of you trigun fics and i loved them, so i wanted to request something too!
How about a Vash x reader where the reader sleeps on him? Vash is listening to them ramble about something and then boom, they fall asleep on him bc hes warm. <3
MY FIRST ASK! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME FOR THE ENTIRE DAY!
i am doing well! thank you for your support! <33
i usually take forever to write a piece, but ur ask inspired me and had me thinking all day on how to go about this. so hope you enjoy this! thank you for the request!
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Sweet Dreams
Exiting the bathroom, freshly washed and donning one of Vash’s shirts, you throw your towel over your head, continuing to dry off your head while you peered out into the room. Vash lounged on the motel bed, arms thrown behind him to support his head, lean legs sprawled out and taking up the entire mattress. He was whistling a tune you didn’t recognize, one eye closed while the other surveilled you in the opening of the steaming door. 
“Ya sure you didn’t wanna take a shower? There’s still some hot water left,” you offered.
“Nah, got too comfy waiting here for you. I’ll take one in the morning.” 
He closed his other eye, humming the tune now. He did look comfy. A little too comfy. With his eyes closed, he didn’t see the mischievous glimmer in your eye. The pattering of your feet was his only warning as you dove for him, body landing atop his, an ‘oof!’ sounding from him as your body weight collapsed on his chest. You were cackling at the noise he made, wrapping your arms around his waist as his fingers tickled your sides.
“Not fair! You attacked a defenseless man!”
“Getting comfortable without me, handsome? Ay! Stop it!-” 
His fingers didn’t stop their wriggling assault, only ending when you began to retaliate. 
“Ok, ok! I’m done!” He coughed a laugh out. “Mm, you smell nice. I haven’t smelled this soap before. Where’d you get it?” He twirled a wet piece of hair between his fingers.
“Oh I didn’t tell you! I met this vendor at the market earlier! While you were off looking for your donuts, the smell of the loveliest lavender drew me in.”
Vash hummed along to your story, indicating that his attention was still 100% on you as he played with your hair. He breathed in the calming scent on your skin and hair, allowing it to sway him to sleep slowly. You rambled on and on about how the vendor made the soap, the techniques and oils she used to bring out the herb. 
“But I got her card so we can go back and get you a soap! I do love how you smell Vash, it’s almost like you have a sort of gene that prevents you from smelling bad.” You turned your nose further into his shirt, inhaling the raw smell of him–sunshine with notes of something earthy…petrichor, or something along those lines. It grounded you every time. “But geez, would it kill you to wash your laundry sometimes?! You stink!” you lied, teasing a finger into his chest.
He yelped, abruptly awoken by your harsh jabbing. He grabbed your finger, bringing it up to kiss it, splaying your hand open with his own, observing the size difference. 
“We can do a laundry day tomorrow. I saw the laundromat wasn’t too far off from us, so we can easily carry our loads there.” He sighed, a content smile plastered on his face at the domesticity you two indulged in. He entwined your fingers, bringing it to the side of his face. “That reminds me! I got us donuts for the morning! You should’ve seen the options, I mean. I was in heaven, Mayfly. Powdered, glazed, cake-”
He let your hand go as he gestured in the air, passionate about the change in subject.
It was Vash’s turn to ramble. And once he started on his favorite topic–donuts–there was no stopping him. The deep timbre of his voice held some power. His voice always became deeper late into the night, hinting that he was getting tired; but it seemed to lower your heart rate, lower your defenses and diminish the adrenaline you had from a busy day. The warmth of the day seemed to never leave him, his body heat encompassing the parts of you that touched him. You tucked your legs closer to his body as the coldness of the desert night reached for your feet. 
One of his arms was wrapped around you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. The other was busy with your arm on the opposite side, fingers lightly grazing up and down. The security you felt in his presence never failed to put you to sleep. 
You hummed one last time, eyes softly closing at his praise for a certain jelly doughnut. You promised in your head that you were only shutting them for a minute. What lies you told yourself.
“But I got your favorite! It might have a bite in it, but I saved the majority of it for you! I know you’ll like it, because I know you, hehe…um. Mayfly?” 
Your soft snores alerted him that you stopped paying attention to his tales of the day. He peered down his nose at you, love clearly painted into his features. Your eyelashes were long from this angle, gently laid out on your sun-kissed skin. Your lips were parted, soft breaths felt on his chest as you breathed in his scent on each inhale and exhaled the minty paste from your nighttime routine. He’s told you plenty of times before, but if only you knew how beautiful you looked in his eyes. 
He felt goosebumps rise on your skin from the chill in the air. He reached down to grab the comforter, pulling it up to your shoulders. You shifted slightly, stilling in the creases of his warm neck that was now heating your cold nose. He giggled at the temperature difference, arms also wrapping around your waist as he settled further into the sheets.
He had to admit, his exaggerated noise and fuss at your sudden dive from earlier was only a ruse. He loved the nights you chose to sleep tucked into his side, but he delighted in the nights you chose to smother him, arms always wrapped around him. He had days to live for with you, but there were always nights to live for as well.
“Sweetest of dreams, Mayfly.”
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A/N: side note! i am open to requests! i think they're super fun and it really does get me motivated to write more :)
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dollwrites · 1 year
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𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 — 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!amateur hero!reader ( sonic scream quirk ), this is a dark fic so do not read if you don’t think you can stomach it. noncon, bondage, forced free use, suggested other villains x reader ( she’s been through it okay ), lots of cum marking, degradation, forced unprotected sex, noncon creampie, dabi’s mean mean, suggested noncon breeding, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺���𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ ah my first dabi fic so i hope y’all like it & i hope I do him justice! please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3
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“We’ve already done a number on you,” Dabi mutters, mostly to himself, as he looks over your figure. you were bound ( too tightly, you might add, your hands and feet were numb from the construction around your wrists and ankles ) to a rickety, metal chair. the bastards folded you in half, tying your legs to the back of it, so your knees jut inward against your chest, your calves framing your face on either side. it was their cruel way of making you as accessible to them as possible, and you’d better believe that they had taken advantage of your compromised position.
what used to be your uniform, even if you’d sewn it yourself so it was a bit shoddy, hung in tattered strips off of you where countless hands had torn at it, ripping gaping holes to grope your breast or expose your sex to them. in place of it, scribbled on the underside of your thighs, were dashes. each, jagged line represented a time that you’d been raped by one of them.
there were starting to be so many that they were making jokes about it, specifically the one in the mask. Mr. Compress, you’d heard him called. ‘I think I’ll have to start writing over some of your count, Dabi. I’m running out of room over here.’
if the tallies weren’t proof enough that they’d abused and assaulted you over and over since you’d been captured, then the condoms were. you were littered with them. whenever whoever was inside of you had cum, they’d rip the prophylactic off and simply toss it on to you. most of the time, they didn’t care that it landed on your belly or your chest, but there were select times when they would purposefully drape them over your face, with the intention of watching their cum leak out over your strained features as you wriggled in disgusted protest.
at least, when you were alone in the dark, you would squirm and rock against your restraints until you knocked some of them off of you, whimpering in relief when you hear them splat against the floor. however, most were stuck to your flesh, drying cum like a sticky, filthy glue.
you hated them for what they did, but even more for making you watch it happen. they’d shoved a thick, solid gag into your mouth and tied it tightly so you couldn’t make use of your quirk and fight back, but they were sadistic enough, no— he was sadistic enough, that devilish Dabi who’d refused to blindfold you.
now, as you stare up at him, you’re sore. exhausted. hungry. violated by him and his comrades so many times that you trembled when he reached to grab hold of your ankle, rubbed raw from the rope, and tilted the chair on to its back legs. “And you’ve still got that bitchy look in your eyes.” hissing, he threatens to topple you over into the floor, pushing against the chair’s legs and letting them creak. but you glare up at him, eyebrows furrowed, choking on every expletive you wanted to scream at him— every possible way you wanted to threaten him. “I thought that annoying resistance of yours would be in shambles by just how much cock we’ve given you. For sure, your eyes would be glassy and dead by now, you wouldn’t tense up, you wouldn’t fight back—“ as if to punctuate his point, Dabi squeezes your ankle, and your leg muscles all contract. you wanted to get one free so you could kick him square in the jaw. “You’d just take it; we might have even been able to take that thing out of your mouth, but as long as you’re being a brat, I can’t trust you not try something stupid.”
“Something is surprising, though,” he continues, glancing down your body. you suppress a shudder. his gaze was icy as it glued itself to your cunt. “Your pussy’s been getting wetter when I slide in.” you clench your tingly hands into fists behind your back, gurgling in muffled argument, one that he ignores. “Like you’re starting to enjoy it.”
oh, god.
you want to scream that he’s wrong at the top of your lungs, that you hated every, single inch, but you couldn’t.
and, would you be lying if you could?
“That was never the goal, you know.” he chuckles, hoarse and wicked as his free hand flees to undo his fly. “You were never supposed to end up liking it, we were supposed to fuck you until you broke, body or mind, whichever came first.”
the heat of a humiliated blush creeps on to your features as you glower daggers up at him, hoping he can feel them.
“I gotta wonder if you’re wet already, watching me whip it out, thinking about how wide you’re going to have to stretch open to take it.”
you shook your head, rocking hard against your binds, your hips jutting forward just as he propped the chair back with one foot, and the hand on your ankle flees to hook two fingers inside you. your eyes water— he was never, ever gentle. his skin was rough, and he pushed them deep and curled to grip you from the inside. your walls spasm around the unexpected intrusion.
“Dripping and clenching already, just like a dirty slut would be.” when he pulls his cock through the gap provided by his open zipper, you tried not to stare at it. it didn’t help that he was pumping it so fiercely, forcing it to life in his fist. “Some hero, huh? Reduced to the bad guys’ cheap, little fleshlight after just a couple of days? You want it so bad, it must be humiliating. Don’t you worry, I’ll give it to you.”
your eyes widen as you realize something vital, and you turn your head to stare at the pile of metallic-wrapped condoms on the table beside you. they kept them there for ease of access, and he knew damn well they were there; he’d been the one to dump a lot of them there, and use a lot of them.
Dabi catches you staring at them, expecting him to reach over, but he rolls his eyes. “We’re past that by now, aren’t we?” he murmurs, pulling his fingers free and grabbing his cock at the base, he presses the swollen head against your trembling core instead and you shake your head, passionately protesting the idea of him pushing in raw. “See, I don’t like you making me look like a liar by hanging on to your pathetic, little pride. This time, I will fuck you braindead. Even if I gotta pump you full of jizz to do it.”
no. fuck, no!
your mind was buzzing with protest, and you push yourself as far up off the chair as you can, jerking arms and legs about in your ropes. you didn’t care if they burned. you couldn’t let this happen.
maybe, it was because you knew that you were already teetering on a very precarious brink, and the right amount of abuse from your captor would be enough to see his mission accomplished.
ultimately, however, your bindings didn’t give, but your body does.
Dabi plunges inside, without the rubber barrier for the first time and barrels through your clenching canal, and you cry out around your gag.
fuck him, you thought.
you screamed it until your throat burned. “FUCK YOU!” but all that made it out was a series of gargling and muffled yelping.
“Shut up, already. ” he groans, breathy as he grabs hold of both of your bound ankles this time, using the leverage to pull you to meet his savage thrusting, “If you didn’t like it, then your cunt wouldn’t be so sloppy fucking wet. I feel like I’m drowning in it.”
maybe you kept babbling to deaden the sound of your own slick, slurping as he pounds you, your walls clenching around him.
you didn’t want to hear how wet it made you to be assaulted by him. because, god, were you soaked.
Dabi wasted no time in finding your limit and crushing it, forcing himself deep with each, brutal buck of his hips, his balls slapping against your sticky flesh. “Goddammit,” he rasps, shifting his position, holding you under him so he can spread his legs and pile drive straight down into you. your eyes roll back at about the same time that the shape of his thick tip started to push a faint bulge in your rippling belly, “you don’t even try to push me out, anymore. That wet, little pussy just takes what you’re given, milks me.” Dabi tries to force a chuckle, but it breaks into a vulgar moan when he bottoms out, smashing his balls against you as if he were trying to see them pop inside of you, too.
you shudder, your thighs shaking, and you try to glare up at him again. but it was more difficult to muster that hatred, because he was, quite literally, fucking the power to fight out of you.
azure gems take note of this, and his smirk is tense, “With the way you’re gripping… Feels like you’re trying to make me cum.” you shake your head, but it’s weak. “You want to break that bad, slut? Excited to take my load? Can’t wait to see what happens when your brain melts?” another head shake, but it doesn’t matter, anyways. he doesn’t care. “You’re a dirty, little liar.”
you mewl, squinting when he slams home harder to emphasize his cruelty, jabbing a hypersensitive knotting of nerves relentlessly, and you writhe in the chair, biting down on the gag. it was solid enough to break your teeth if you applied too much pressure, but you couldn’t help the need to hold on to something. your walls flutter spastically, and Dabi grunts low, his fingers digging into the vulnerable, burning skin of your ankles, “You’re gonna cum with me, aren’t you?”
no.
please, no.
you were begging your body not to humiliate you like this, but you could feel a release bubbling in your lower belly. your insides bunching up into tight knots.
and then there was Dabi, who was pulsating in your guts, pounding you so furiously that you saw stars behind your eyelids when you closed them tight.
“All you need is to feel me shoot it in your belly and you’re done. Watch—“
it was all the warning you got, but it was enough to open your eyes wide— remembering what his intentions were.
oh god, don’t cum, you begged. both him and yourself.
don’t cum inside me!
don’t you dare!
as if that would stop him.
with a strangled moan, he nestled deep with a final, cruel thrust and releases deep. you sputter, helplessly around the gag, staring up at him with your eyes glazing over, because your own release had begun it’s attack. furiously twitching, back arching, your pleasure overrides whatever pride you had left after so much abuse, and your resistance snaps in half.
you broke.
your screams melt away into mindless, muffled moaning, as your hips buck forward to except every spurt of hot spunk that Dabi deposits inside. your belly feels full, and you swear you can feel his essence sloshing around when he rips his cock free from you, leaving an empty, gaping feeling. what you couldn’t hold in your body dribbles out with each pulse of your abused cunt, running white stripes down your ass crack, sticking to the chair underneath you.
hazy, your head hangs forward to stare down your body at the decimation left at your core; you couldn’t see, but feel how your hole convulsed, spitting out Dabi’s cum a little more each time, and had your mind have been intact, you would’ve been cursing him. trying to activate your quirk and scream until his ears bled, until you deafened him. you weren’t. you were whimpering and submissive. your body jerks upwards as if to chase his cock, beg him to put it back in and break you all over again.
“I guess I should tell the others you’re taking it raw now,” he mused, pressing a heavy palm against your sensitive, lower belly. with the pressure applied, more of his cum leaks out of him and you whine, your eyes rolling behind heavy lids. “You’d better hope you’re on a birth control that holds up, slut, or else you’ll be promoted from cum dumpster to baby factory.”
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cuppachar · 7 months
Note
What are your all time favorite Ted Lasso fics? I’m compiling a list of must-reads once I finish the series since I just joined the fandom. I’m starting season 2 tomorrow and I’d love some good fics to have queued up for when I finish the series!
Hey, anon.
What a treat, you have a lot of gems to discover.
I actually got a bit behind bookmarking my fics, so I'm in the process of going through the ones I read to bookmark them. Once I have compiled this/correctly bookmarked everything, I'll post a list.
For now anything by @altschmerzes is a good starting point AO3
Also, the ones I have had recently gone back and downloaded as faves:
Barn Raising by altschmerzes (One of my faves EVER)
Scaffolding by altschmerzes
The Same Story by altschmerzes
Better Angels by altschmerzes
This Time It's Me Leaving You by altschmerzes
Wriggle Up On Dry Land by altschmerzes (Another one of faves EVER)
There are also some great shorter ones as well.
Other fave downloads:
About to Burn (And Still on Fire) - Anonymous
Why I Call You Jam - Anonymous
To Prove That Nothing's Out To Get You by Slleightt
i was so ahead of the curve (the curve became a sphere) by RavenOfRao
If I Just Keep Saying I'm Fine, Maybe I'll Start to Believe It by AsteriaArgo
nothing is burning here, my father would laugh by AlwaysKatie7
for speaking through walls by LadyCharity 
it's such a long road when you go it alone by themightyduck
the dog days are over by bartonbones
I Get By With A Little Help by BelmotteTower
in a language that you can't read just yet by BelmotteTower 
And over on ff.net, the lovely Gothraven89 has written some great Jamie--centred fics;
False Pretenses vs True Love, True Love Wins
Toasted Tartt and Tenfold Terror
Grumpy and Gorgeous Gotta Deal With Some Seriously Scary Shit
Suffer In Silence No More
When It's the Heavens That Go and Out You
---
When I go through the others, I'll post another list, as there's many I haven't included here. I hope you have a wonderful time reading these fantastic fics <3 (be warned, some are very angsty).
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babytarttdoodoo · 9 months
Note
📚
I am SO GLAD you asked.
Currently obsessed with anything and everything by @altschmerzes. I'm re-reading Barn Raising for the dozenth time and also eagerly awaiting updates on The Same Story and Wriggle Up On Dry Land.
You like delicious Jamie angst and Richmond h/c? Eat your fill.
The that's what i want series by @belmottetower & @scoatneyhall is my favourite R/J/K dynamic. Lonely Hearts Club is also excellent R/J (and one of the first fics I read in the fandom!) but please do heed the tags.
I can't not mention the wonderful LadyCharity too. for speaking through walls is one I go back to frequently. I just love when the himbos get protective and Richard goes feral. Sue me.
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kindestegg · 1 year
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Platinum Bones Week - Day 05 - 04/04: "Nightmare" (and a bit of incidental "slumber party")
Here we go! We are so close now! Are you excited? I know I am!
This one is a bit angsty and then becomes comfort. As expected with nightmare fics, y'know. Colly's got a nightmare while King is over for a sleepover. Reminder this is still in my idea of them as teens in the future!
Collector dipped their toes in the water. Cold. Very cold and sticky.
But they only had a small platform to hang onto, and this body of water seemed endless, safe for an island way off in the distance. They knew if they didn't go there, there would be nowhere else to go.
For some reason, it didn't occur for them to fly, so they got off the platform and stood in the water, realizing now it was only waist deep for them.
They waded through the water, which now they realized was a very odd rich blue color, and it's consistency was... admittedly not very much like water.
They swallowed as they continued, and before they knew, they had approached the island. It was actually only a small piece of land, with a cozy nest inside, and something that made Collector gasp.
"Fang! Crash! Is that really you?" They called, tears already forming in their eyes from emotion.
In the nest, four baby titans wriggled awake.
"Slasher, Marrow! I can't believe it!" Collector called the other ones as well, rushing to them, jumping into the nest.
"Collector!" They exclaimed happily, excited to see them.
They all huddled up around him, letting him wrap his arms around them and cuddle them up.
"I missed you guys so much, I'm never letting you go ever again! I promise." He told them.
But the baby titans didn't respond, and Collector's heart dropped as he noticed their bodies going limp in his arms.
He pulled away from the embrace and looked at them, noticing they were just pelts and skulls in his arms, all wet with that rich blue liquid... with titan blood.
He felt sick, a throbbing overtaking his head and dizziness nearly knocking him down, but he couldn't even allow himself to cry as the ground began to shake.
He turned his head to see a huge figure in the horizon line, rising up and filling the sky, it was unfortunately what Collector recognized to be another one of his species, an elder, even, the biggest, highest ranking ones.
"You think you can escape who you are?" Their booming voice filled the air.
"You are childish thinking you can escape this, this is your nature, this is what you are destined to do. Do not fight it, as it is futile." They continued, leaning down slowly and towering above him.
Collector couldn't respond, they could barely choke on their tears as they flowed down, immobilized in fear.
"What has struggling gotten you? Nothing but heartbreak. Nothing but guilt. Nothing but sadness. You should live up in the skies with us." Their immense eyes were so close, shining like headlights down on him.
A hand came down and tried to grab him, as they called: "Collector, Collector..."
"Aahhhh!!" Collector finally managed to scream, and pushed away from the mass around him.
"Ow! Collector it's just me, calm down!" King yelped as he was struck by his friend slapping and kicking to wriggle free.
"Huh? King?" Collector had fallen off King's arms back onto the bed, and looked around confused.
"You were having a nightmare, dude." King explained. "I was trying to help you."
"Ah, sorry... thank you." Collector sat up.
King sighed and sat down next to him in bed. "You were crying and whimpering, that's how I noticed. You still look... pretty awful."
Collector rubbed a hand over their eyes, and sure enough, their face was all wet and red.
"King... can you hold me?" They asked, looking up at the titan sadly.
King gave a light breathy laugh and pulled Collector back into his arms. "C'mere, buddy."
They stayed silent for a while, King cradling them and letting them rest in his arms. Close to the titan's warmth, Collector felt their tears dry.
After a good amount of time, King decided to ask: "You still awake?"
"No." Collector turned to him and responded, sticking their tongue out. "I'm sleep talking."
King let out a huff and gave a playful grin. "Jackass. You know I need to sleep, too. I can't hold you all night."
"... did you really sleep alright here?" They turned around to look at where they had set up a second bed for King.
"Yeah, actually. It's not much different from when we'd sleep together back then." King nodded.
"Were you happy then?" Collector asked.
"Why the sudden questions? I promise I'm fine, Colly, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." King wrapped his pinky around Collector's, trying to soothe him.
"It's not about that." Collector grumbled. "I want to know if you're comfortable around me. If I'm good for you."
"You're more than good for me." King caressed his hair, and proceeded to get his claws stuck on it. "Woah. This is like. Way messier when you aren't tying it up."
That got Collector to laugh a little. "I just tossed around in bed, man. Of course it's messy."
He then looked up and reached a hand to caress King's face. "But, I'm glad. I want to be good for you. My nightmare was... pretty upsetting, and it involved titans, so..."
"Ah. One of those, huh." King understood, nodding and leaning into Collector's touch.
"Yeah. Was pretty bad." Collector sighed. "I just wanna make it up to you. You deserve a good life."
King rested his chin gently on Collector's head. "I already got a good life. I got a mom and a parent and a sister and a best friend who would literally move the stars for me if I asked him to."
Collector laughed. "That's true. I would!"
"Don't, though. People navigate with those you know." King nuzzled him.
"Hmmm, what if I put them back where I found them after I move them though?" Collector leaned back on him.
"Are you gonna remember which is which?" King grinned teasingly.
"Shut up." Collector slapped his cheek playfully and jumped off.
"I think I'm okay to sleep now. Thanks, King." They told him.
King bounced on the spot as he sat for a bit and hummed, thinking. "Hey... can you make your bed bigger?"
"Uh... yeah? Why?" Collector just stood there, raising an eyebrow.
"Can you do it now?" King pressed on.
"Uhhh... okay?" Collector wagged his finger and the bed stretched and grew, making King jump slightly, but not throwing him off.
"Awesome. Thanks." King grinned and flopped back on the bed.
"Hey! You're taking my bed?" Collector raised their arms in protest.
"No, dummy. Come over here." He raised a paw in the air and gestured for them to come over.
"... ah." Collector realized what this meant, and made their way to the bed, shuffling around King and laying next to him.
"Hi." They turned to face him, smiling.
"Hi." King smiled back.
And they stared at each other for a while, until until eyes grew weary and they drifted off to sleep again.
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sighonaraa · 5 months
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Sid! I’m already obsessed with your 17 year old Jamie goes to Richmond fic! Does it have a name?
ash! i am so happy to hear you’re already obsessed with the 17 year old jamie goes to richmond fic! it’s one of the gift fics for @asteria-argo bc once many moons ago the two of us tossed a brain cell back and forth about the ripe potentiality of such an au (also inspired by @altschmerzes’s absolutely stunning “wriggle up on dry land”) and i’ve simply been chomping at the bit to write it for eternities since.
it does NOT have a name yet i am sorry to report :(
HOWEVER. it may end up being saw something they can’t take away from taylor swift’s “you’re on your own, kid” if only because that one particular song makes my heart hurty in the most jamie specific way.
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altschmerzes · 5 months
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happy hanukkah, chag sameach everyone!!! here's a clip from far, far ahead in wriggle up on dry land, my ted lasso au where jamie's 15 and the groundsman's assistant when the story begins. at this point of the story he is 17 and he lives with ted - for. reasons. - and ted and roy have essentially ended up co-parenting him, which has been a learning process for everyone. this is their first real holiday season together, and the first time roy has decided to celebrate hanukkah of his own initiative (not with phoebe and his sister) in a long time.
The mulish determination that had carried Roy all the way through talking to Sarah and going to the little judaica store she’d given him the address of and getting everything set up disappears as soon as there’s someone else in the house. He hovers awkwardly near the doorway and watches while Ted and Jamie shuck off their coats and Ted nudges the kid to remind him to take his shoes off inside. They’ve both been in his house before, more times than he can count by this point, but somehow the experience feels new and unpredictable. Neither Ted nor Jamie seem to notice, chattering to each other about whatever they’d been talking about before they got here, but Roy can’t escape it. The feeling is loud and cloying and he can’t turn it off.
Just as Roy is about to conclude this entire thing had been a mistake and he should call it off right now, he realizes that the new arrivals have left him behind in his own entryway, moving on into the dining room where-
Well. Roy hurries after them and comes to an abrupt stop in the doorway. Ted’s got his hands tucked into his pockets and he looks at Roy with a warm, knowing smile that Roy resents on principle. Jamie is staring at the table, stopped in place like he can’t quite comprehend what he’s seeing. It’s an understandable reaction. A menorah was to be expected. Three of them is… Three of them is something else.
They’re lined up in a neat little row on the table, candles already placed in the farthest corners and the middles, a lighter laying nearby in anticipation of what’s coming next. The one on the left end is simple and traditional, the first one that Roy had grabbed. It reminded him of the one his grandparents had, the one that is probably in the window at Sarah’s house right now, already lit. In the middle sits a short menorah, a flat row of silver candle holders with the shamash slightly raised at the centre of them, and a colourful pattern on a panel behind them. Red pomegranates are set against a blue background and the whole thing had reminded him of Richmond. The last, on the right, is elegantly shaped silver metal, a trunk and the reaching branches of a little tree. It had taken Roy a long time to choose it. Dissatisfied with the options, he’d been about to give up and choose one at random when he’d spotted it, tucked away at the back of the shelf. As soon as he’d seen it, he’d known it was the one he wanted - on the way out of the store he’d thought to himself Do they even have trees in fucking Kansas? And then he’d been so irritated at what an insane thing that was to worry about that he’d nearly tripped over a crack in the pavement.
Finally tearing his eyes away from the table, Jamie glances over this shoulder at Roy. He looks confused, a little uncertain, like he’s got a question but he doesn’t want to ask it. The story he’d told about spending Hanukkah with his friend Ash’s family pops into Roy’s mind and he wonders if this is a setup Jamie recognizes, if he’s counted the menorahs on the table and done the simple math and realized what that meant. Then again, this is Jamie. That kind of conclusion is not one he can be relied on to reach himself, and so Roy is going to have to explain.
“That’s what we did,” Roy forces out eventually. His voice sounds thick and stony even to his own ears and he stops, swallowing hard before he tries again. The last thing he wants is to sound resentful, or angry, or any of the other things he knows he sounds when he’s emotional - embarrassed, this time. Anxious for their reactions, for this display of the thinness of his own life, his lack of substance that he’d needed to go out and buy these new and Googled it three times before he was sure he’d put the candles in the right end.
“In my family,” he says, faintly pleased that it comes out softer than before, gentler and less intense. “And in a lot of families. Don’t know about your friend Ash, but… But that’s what we did, and a lot of people do. Have one for… For everyone in the…” Roy waves a hand around, a vague circle indicating the room. His cheeks feel hot and he doesn’t know why this is so fucking hard to say. “In the immediate family. So. Y’know. Three.”
There. He’s said it and he’s explained and he didn’t pass out or die and nobody immediately laughs either so that has to be some kind of a good sign. Roy stares resolutely at the grain of the kitchen table. He can feel the eyes of the other two people in the room on him but he can’t bring himself to look over at them. Not quite yet.
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jamiesfootball · 9 months
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I will not shirk my responsibilities to read the new chapter of Wriggle Up On Dry Land.
But I might!
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freefallingup13 · 5 months
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Choice [Beck Marley]
Yeah I got that weird grave man on my mind and it's gotten me to write a complete fic for the first time in like. At least a year. God damn.
TW/CW; Threat of murder, freshly dug grave and being forced to sit at the edge of it, gun (pistol), boss hiring a hitman, gagged, tied completely by rope, and this is a captivity fic (though captivity doesn't start yet)
~~
They couldn’t help but flinch away as the stranger approached them again. They’d already been roughly thrown aside, apparently ‘in the way’ of the dirt being dug out of their grave. But now… now, it was done.
The stranger didn’t even grab them directly. Wriggling his fingers underneath the rope that bound them, he pulled them up from the ground. 
Dirt scraped as they were dragged to the foot of the grave. Their eyes landed on the mound of soil that would soon be poured over their body. It sure did look like a lot. Hopefully it wouldn’t hurt.
Well - it wouldn’t. Of course not. Dead people don’t hurt.
They squeaked past the gag as they were lifted up to their feet, then shoved down onto their knees. The ropes dug into their legs, having been tied when they were straight. It was hard for them to keep their balance as the stranger stepped away, letting them go. Balancing with their arms bound behind them wasn’t easy.
It was the click of a gun that made them stop squirming. 
Oh.
Shit.
The stranger was checking the amount of ammo in the pistol, not even looking at them. Satisfied, he clicked the magazine back into the handle and flicked the safety off.
“You ready?” he asked, flicking up his hat. His voice sounded so strange, like it wasn’t his tone that was dry, but his throat, along with every other inch of his being. 
His hand reached for their face, and they shrank into themselves. “Relax,” the stranger drawled, reaching behind their head. “I’ve just got a habit of letting people have their last words.”
The gag was untied, thrown away. A groan escaped them as they tried to close their jaw. After so many hours, it felt stiff with pain.
The stranger was kind enough to give them a moment, but he eventually kneeled down in front of them. He had a slightly amused look in his eyes as he pointed the barrel of the pistol between their eyes. 
“So? Any last words?”
Their mind raced, but they were strangely able to keep up. (Maybe it was their panic that he wouldn’t give them last words at all, and was just trying to get them to sit still in thought.)
What kind of last words did they consider worth saying? Nothing deep and philosophical would matter when there was just this murderer to hear them. And they didn’t really have any qualms that needed to be settled on their death bed.
They didn’t…
Hm.
“Just do it.”
Beck raised an eyebrow, tilting his head a little. “Hm?”
“Just… do it,” the kid blurted out. “I don’t have anything.”
He stared. Couldn’t help but snort. “You serious?” he asked. “Nothing at all?”
The kid grit their teeth. “No,” they seethed, trembling. “I don’t have anything to say. 
“I’ve got nobody to pray to, I’ve got no friends or family. I don’t have anybody who I’d wish would save me. All I had was my job, and I know exactly who hired you to get rid of me.”
Beck said nothing. The kid sure had something to say, might as well let them get it out. 
“So just- just do it,” they mumbled, their sudden bravado beginning to crumble. “Nobody’s going to miss me while I’m gone. Nobody’ll even know. So just… get it over with.”
Another moment of silence.
“Just… do it quickly.”
The stranger remained silent. Damn, for not knowing what to say, they sure said a lot. They felt stupid. Pouring out their loneliness to a stranger. To their assassin.
A cold rim of gunmetal pressed into the bottom of their jaw, making them shiver and automatically straighten up. They struggled to keep their breathing calm, shutting their eyes tightly.
“... Lonely kid, aren’t you?”
They couldn’t help but sob. He couldn’t make this any faster? Did he have to tease them?
“Hey. Kid.” The barrel of the gun dug into their skin. “Answer, will ya?”
Their chest heaved as they tried to let go of the breath they were holding. “Yes,” they responded. Here they were, leaning back onto the precipice of disaster, at the edge of their grave, on the wrong end of a gun. “Of course I am. You heard what I said. Are you deaf?”
The stranger laughed. Oh, stupid, stupid. Why did they have to insult him? Their stupid mouth-
The gun moved away from their skin, and they heard another click.
But it wasn’t the last thing they heard.
“Nobody, huh?” the stranger mused under his breath, scratching his head with the- They opened their eyes. Scratching his head with the pistol, barrel pointed at his own skull. “You’re sure about that?”
They stared. “... Yeah?” they said incredulously. “What- Wasn’t it easy to catch me?”
“... I guess,” the stranger mumbled, looking off into the distance. “Here. Tell you what.”
He put the pistol next to him, laying it onto the ground. He was already balanced back onto his heels, and he put his elbows onto his knees as he addressed them. “Your bosses. You know they gave me the contract. Yeah?”
They couldn’t tell if they were still in shock, or the adrenaline was wearing down. They just nodded.
“Cool.” He seemed to think for a moment before he spoke again. “You know, the contract, word for word, just said to ‘get rid of you’.
“So, technically,” he said slowly, “I don’t have to kill you. That’s not what the old guy said.”
What? What? 
“... So what does that mean?” they asked cautiously. “What, you let me go, and I just… run? Never come back?”
Their stomach sank as they saw him roll his eyes. “This ain’t a movie, kid, come on. Nah. I got a better idea.”
He looked over his shoulder, then jerked a thumb towards the cabin. “See that? That’s my home. That’s mine.”
They… didn’t like where this was going. 
“Now, it gets…” he waved his hand. “Tell you the truth, it gets fucked up in there. I never feel like cleaning, even between contracts. Like, I have to, I just… don’t.”
… Now they were confused.
“You want a maid?”
He scoffed. “Nah. That’s just part of it. I do have another idea, though.”
His eyes stared into theirs as he gestured again. “You stay there, in that cabin. You don’t leave. And you help me figure out… let’s say, new techniques.”
Before they could think of a response, he had picked up the gun again, and was studying it carefully. “You do that,” he said, “and I won’t kill you. You get to live.”
They looked towards the cabin. Then back at him.
“I don’t even know your name.”
The stranger snorted. “It’s Beck,” he said. “Beck Marley. And now that I’ve said that…”
They flinched as the pistol was pointed back towards them. “You’re on my shitlist again,” the stranger - Beck - said calmly. “So, now you got the same two options. A… I kill you, save my own skin, since you know my name. Or…” He silently nodded towards the cabin.
Looking towards the cabin sheepishly, they avoided looking at the gun. It didn’t look… that bad. And they’d always wanted to go run away and live in the woods, away from people. Cleaning wasn’t so bad. “Figuring out new techniques” couldn’t be that bad. 
“What’s it gonna be, kid?” Beck asked, casually flicking the safety off on the gun. “You gonna stay, or die?”
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📚💡💭 for the ask game!! i want to Know Everything
okay so:
📚- ngl, I went through a fic reading spree right after i finished the series, read some of the best works i've ever found, and have not been able to find them again, BUT... the most recent fic I've been following is wriggle up on dry land by altschmerzes which is FANTASTIC (i think you've also read this one but...) also held onto hope (like a noose, like a rope) by scarlettroses. there are def more, but those are my two most recent reads on ao3, of gen/platonic relationship centric variety which is what i'm going with since I think that's more your jam and more applicable to Everyone? <3
💡- currently, i have 4 fic-related WIPS, and one other non- fanfic project sort of going! all the fics are ted lasso related and in extremely varying stages of completeness.
💭- i would say i take inspiration from like, three main places: other writers, as in, if i read something i really like, fic or otherwise, i'll try writing something in a similar style. i have a hard time branching out and that's usually what encourages me to. second- psychology. i'm a psych student, and because of that, i tend to write a lot of introspective, character analysis type of stuff. third, other media/music. i take a lot of inspo for my dialogue style from buffy the vampire slayer, and then i usually have very curated music playlists for things i'm writing.
thanks so much for the ask! i'm not used to doing these lol so i get very excited
x
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fascinationex · 2 years
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A tiny sealpatico scrap to tide you over, if you're feeling the brief absence.
It's only a little nsfw but it is full of gooey feelings. It won't be going in the main fic series. ;—;
*
"Is this embarrassing for you?" Perceptor asked, stroking gently down the long taut curves of his belly.
"I mean... don't put it on the internet." Brainstorm wriggled a little. He was anxious and uncomfortable, but in a weird and exciting way. He liked Perceptor's gentle, warm hands messing up his fur.
He pet idly at Perceptor's hair. The feeling was fascinating to him: thin, dry strands, so shiny and long, and flexible and nerveless. Dead cells, Perceptor had said, just like fur. He liked to run his claws through, scraping at the strange bony heat of Perceptor's scalp, and then close his hand into a fist, tugging gently on all of the strands within his grasp. This gratified Perceptor in some way he couldn't quite figure out—but it resulted in cute, soft, slow blinks and little shudders if done just right.
"I did not intend to publish any notes on this particular collaboration," Perceptor murmured, with a tiny half smile. Ah, so cute.
"Ooh, collab?" Brainstorm spread his forward flippers in mocking excitement.
"Not like that," sighed Perceptor. He looked like he was very seriously thinking about stopping.
It really was peculiarly mortifying. Not, it must be noted, due to any particular sense that his own body was that shameful or embarrassing, like Perceptor implied. You could already see all the weird bad parts, where his coat wasn't quite shiny enough and his blubber layer was too thin. Nah.
But there was an uncomfortable sense of vulnerability, which was both scary and fun. He'd never really considered doing sexy things with another person before—people didn't really happen to Brainstorm in any great number, in the before times, and lately he'd met many but liked few. It was very... new.
Also. Nota bene: Brainstorm didn't just go around showing his dick to people. Genitals were highly sensitive and easy to injure! He kept his dick tucked inside his preputial sheath and hidden away like a civilised person (a civilised person who, notably, didn't like smacking his cock on things when he sluggarpillared his way over land??? Obviously).
He trusted Perceptor, both in that it would be okay to be this exposed to him, and in the expectation that this trust would be, you know, well rewarded.
So he wiggled contentedly into the slightly too-warm bed, quite at Perceptor's disposal, and it was... perhaps... a more significant display for him than he was open to letting Perceptor believe. That, then, was the truly embarrassing part: he was so very full up of weird, intense, soft feelings.
"It's fine," he assured him, full of unearned confidence. "You can touch me however you like."
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storybookprincess · 2 years
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Hello^^ I want to ask you something. Do you know any killugon or leopika or the four of them fic (or just individually) in which the story used outsider POV? Like for example someone observing the boys doing things or overhear the boys saying bizarre things. Something like that. If so, could you or someone recommend them to me? I've been craving for those stories. Hope this ask makes sense<3 Hope you have a blessed day! Thank you in advance~
ooh great question!!! the one fic of mine that fits the bill is wriggle up on dry land, which is a mito pov fic, but it's very very short sadly. opening up recs to anyone else: outsider pov fics?? hit us up!!
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