#so far I’m just wildly uncomfortable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sutorus · 7 months

Note

Hello! Can you do jjk men reaction when y/n said their safe word during sex? Only if you're not busy! Thank you! 😘

JJK MEN’S REACTIONS TO YOU USING YOUR SAFE WORD

FEATURED: gojo, geto, toji

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. fem reader, afab terms, use of safe word, descriptions of anxiety. please mind individual tws for each scene. proceed with caution and don’t read if it’ll make you feel bad! take care bbs

A/N: my first request i hate it but i hope you love it anon!!! 😊 also sorry i couldn’t do nanami or choso if i’m inspired another time i’ll add em to this LMAO

GOJO SATORU

warnings: reader is blindfolded and bound (wrists), use of safe word, unprotected sex, crying, descriptions of anxiety

you’ve done it a ton but it still makes you nervous.

one sense is kind of a lot to lose when you only have five of them, as a non sorcerer. but the relinquishing of control, entrusting your safety and pleasure and entire body to someone else… it turns you on beyond belief.

so here you are, tonight, blindfold tight over your eyes and hands bound behind your back as satoru fucks you, pace languid, fingers running all over your body.

any other day, it would be just what you needed to relax. any other day you’d be squirming in pleasure, hips bucking wildly against him as your nails claw at your own palms.

but today, for whatever reason, it’s uncomfortable. maybe you’ve had too much caffeine, maybe it’s the stress of his most recent mission, the first one to ever have you worrying your lip all night long thinking, maybe he’s not coming back this time.

his wandering hands feel foreign, the pleasured moans coming from his mouth sounding distant and wrong. your arms tingle from the position you’re in, your sweaty skin itches and you can’t reach to scratch at it.

you furrow your brows.

“satoru…” you whine softly, still unsure of what to ask for.

“mmm?,” he grips your waist, his strokes deep and precise. “my pretty baby looks so good like this. so mine.”

you whine, wriggling in search for comfort. satoru must mistake that for pleasure because he fucks you just a little bit harder, puffing out hot breaths into the crook of your neck.

“kiss me,” you ask, hoping it’ll make it better, but it does nothing to calm you down. with no stimuli but touch, your brain starts to go into overdrive, and you feel tears begin to trickle down your face.

satoru notices, but not in the right way.

“is it that good?” he teases, like he always does, but today it sends a chill down your spine. “i could do anything i wanted to you right now and you wouldn’t even know. wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

that does it for you, a wrecked sob leaving your lips along with your safe word.

satoru stills immediately. you can feel him softening inside you and for some reason that only makes you cry harder.

gently, he reaches behind your head to unhook the blindfold, his worried gaze searching your face for answers.

he lifts your back and unties your wrists, rubbing them to soothe the friction from the ropes.

“baby…” his tone is careful and guilty. “sweetheart, is everything okay? did i do something, what did i do?”

you sniff. the first words that come out of your mouth are, “i’m sorry.”

you’ve never had him so doting, so tense, all that confidence vanishing and it makes you chuckle, this big lanky man handling every limb of yours like they’re made out of snowflakes.

“satoru, i’m okay. i just…” you inhale deeply. “i just got overwhelmed, is all.”

he lays down beside you, visibly unsure about touching you. you grip his hand firmly in yours, offering him a wavering smile.

“i’m okay, i promise. you’re good,” you lean over to peck his lips.

satoru looks regretful, but he relaxes at the gesture, caressing the side of your face softly.

“i love you so much. i’m sorry if i, like, went too far or something—“

“you did nothing wrong,” you assure him. “i think i’m just having a bad day. just wanted to see your face to feel better.”

at that, he smirks. he kisses you slowly, adoringly, unspoken apologies every time your lips touch.

“i am sorry, by the way,” you say. satoru looks back at you with a confused expression on his face. you continue sheepishly, “for having to use the word.”

“huh?” he exclaims, his incredulity so earnest that it rips a hearty laugh from you. “nah, hell no. thank you for saying it, actually.”

“yeah? you’re not upset?”

“of course not. i completely understand,” he traces a line down your body. “not being able to see my handsome face would make anyone cry.”

you slap his hand away playfully and he pulls you into his chest, cuddling you.

you stay like that until you fall asleep, reassured that the most powerful sorcerer in the world is indeed fit to take care of you; heart, body and soul.

GETO SUGURU

warnings: overstim, degradation/humiliation and dirty talk, use of safe word, reader’s discomfort is brief but descriptive

you don’t know how long it’s been.

maybe ten minutes. maybe twenty. maybe ninety.

you don’t know how many times you came.

your entire body is covered in sweat, the top of your thighs and the bottom of your ass soaked in your own arousal.

suguru holds the wand to your clit almost disinterestedly, eyes glazed over and locked on your cunt.

he fucking loves it, making you cum over and over again, thrash against his body, make a mess on his sheets. and you love it just the same.

the undivided attention, the devotion, the seconds right after when the stimulation doesn’t stop and it hurts so bad before it gets mind-numbingly good again.

“hahh,” you breathe out, voice cracking. “i—i’m gonna—“

“oh, you’re gonna?” suguru mocks you. “shocking.”

you moan at his words, his tone. by now, your body barely has any energy left to react. all you can feel is the release of an unbelievable pressure in your core as wetness gushes out of you uncontrollably when you cum.

your puffy clit is throbbing, thoroughly abused, your spread legs quivering in pleasure. you sigh in anticipatory relief at the incoming break suguru is bound to give you after your orgasm.

except this time, the break doesn’t come.

“ahh!” you scream — honest to god yell — as the buzzing continues, suguru pressing the wand down hard on your pussy.

he chuckles, playing with the toy, lifting it up just slightly before bringing it back down on you, over and over again.

“can’t—i can’t, suguru, i can’t cum right now—“

“of course you can, baby,” he says in a sickeningly sweet voice, getting off on your desperation.

usually you’re just as much into it as he is, but this time it’s for real. it’s painful and not in the nice way, you’ve hit your limit but you can hardly talk, can’t do much more than try to wiggle away from your boyfriend’s ministrations.

“how can you say that when you have such a slutty pussy?” he runs his fingers through your slick folds, and every clench of your cunt makes it hurt even more. “so greedy…”

you’re clawing at his hands, but he’s so much stronger than you, his forearms and thighs holding you down, leaving you entirely to his mercy — of which he has none.

“please please fuck please no more—“

it’s something he’s heard you say a thousand times, in a thousand different scenarios, and never truly mean it, which is why you even have a safe word in the first place.

oh right. the safe word.

you pull it out from the depths of your fucked out, mushed up brain and blurt it, digging your heels into the mattress.

it all happens so fast, after that.

suguru all but tosses the wand to the side, switching to lightly stroking your pussy. it makes you jolt; even a gush of air right now could probably make you cry in overstimulation.

“oh fuck, shit,” he removes his hand and you whine. “what do you need baby, what can i do?”

“s-suguru…” you’re still trying to catch your breath, your legs spasming erratically.

“i’m here, i’m here,” suguru starts to move towards you but stops halfway. “do you want me to be here?”

you let out a croaky laugh, opening your arms because you’re too far gone to use words.

hesitantly, he lays his head on your chest. when he feels how fast your heart is beating, his own sinks to his stomach.

“i’m so sorry honey. i thought you were into it.”

you swallow, taking a few beats to regain your composure.

“i was, it was just… a lot, all of a sudden.”

suguru turns his head to look up at you.

“i get it,” he wipes away a stray tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed. “i’m sorry. i love you, i'm so sorry—”

“it’s okay,” you offer him a weak smile. “it’s what the word is for, right?”

“right…” he sounds unsure. that makes you frown.

you two lay there for a while, until your breathing has evened out, until your thighs have stopped shaking.

you can practically hear the hear the cogs in his brain turning, certain that his brain chastising himself.

“hey, suguru?” your voice rips him right out of his thoughts.

“hmm?”

“can you promise me something?”

he sits up in attention, instinctively reaching for your hand. “of course.”

“promise me you’re never gonna stop fucking me like that," he gulps, audibly, visibly relaxing. "and i promise to always let you know if i need to stop.”

it takes a beat, but suguru finally loosens up, pressing his smile into your lips over and over again and mumbling all sorts of promises of his own against them.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

warnings: knifeplay, cnc (sort of), roleplaying, pretty graphic descriptions of anxiety and panic, oral (m! receiving)

“what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you doin’ here this late at night?”

you roll your eyes to yourself before putting on your best innocent look to turn around and face the man.

he’s smirking down at you, the streetlight lamps casting dark shadows on his features.

if you were being honest with yourself, you’d never really been interested in roleplaying in your previous relationships. it was always so awkward and you never truly felt any incentive to stick to the script no matter how much the scenario excited you.

until you met toji, that is.

he was always so into it, played his parts convincingly well, which should probably worry you considering he would always opt to play the sleazy delivery guy, the pervy doctor, the horny stranger in a bar.

as for you, acting the part of the ditzy student or the clumsy maid or whatever the fuck toji wanted you to be that particular day… yeah, that was embarrassingly hot too.

tonight, he’s playing creepy guy in a dark alleyway. he’d texted you in advance, a very romantic meet me in that alley between the tracks and the highway. dress slutty.

“i was just looking for the station and got lost…” you mumble, looking up at him through your eyelashes. he pouts in a fake display of pity, twirling something inside his jacket pocket.

“oh, what a coincidence! i was just on my way there. care to accompany me?”

you smile sweetly, linking arms with him.

soon enough, you find yourself being shoved past toji’s apartment door, his pocketknife prodding at the small of your back.

you have to contain your giggles to stay in character, letting him toss you onto his bed. you also have to fight your anger when he slashes through your top, a sleazy smile on his face as he breaks character to say he’ll get you a new one.

he’s so goddamn hard that it should concern you, holding your jaw open while he feeds you his cock.

“god—shit, that’s right, such a slutty little mouth,” you moan around his length, hands resting primly on top of your thighs. “you were just begging for it, weren’t you, slut?”

you bob your head up and down, putting on a fake grimace while squeezing your legs together at the same time.

you hear something click in the distance, the sound barely registering in your brain as you get lost in the scent of him. he’s beginning to push into your throat now, laughing like a maniac when you choke on it.

“c’mon now, open up that throat for me, girl,” you inhale in preparation. but your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel something cold and sharp poke you. “or maybe i’ll just to do it for ya with this.”

toji’s pressing his switchblade to your neck, grazing it delicately up and down.

he’s not going to hurt you. you know that.

the blade is probably too dull to pierce skin even if he tried, but he would never, you know this, you know he won’t.

and yet despite that, your heart is jackhammering in your ribcage, uncontrolled and wild as your eyes widen around tears.

toji takes your inaction as a sign to just start fucking your mouth a little more, but your attention is zeroed in on that pocketknife.

suddenly colors are sharper, like it’s bright as day inside his dimly lit bedroom. a headache begins to bloom and you start choking in earnest now, not because toji’s going too hard but because you can’t coordinate your breaths.

he starts tracing your throat with the blade. “feel me right here sweetheart? fuck.”

you’re clearly struggling but it’s hard to distinguish your real reactions to the character you’re supposed to be playing. that only serves to make you panic even further, hands coming up to push on toji’s thighs.

“hands to yourself, whore,” he grunts, pressing the knife a little too hard, a little too close for comfort, and you hit your breaking point.

you start garbling wildly around his dick, repeating your safe word over and over again until a very confused toji finally makes out what you’re saying.

he rips himself out of your mouth, instantly dropping to his knees and grabbing your chin in his hand.

“oh fuck, did i cut ya sweetheart?” he moves your face from side to side, examining you.

you swallow around the lump in your throat, willing your heart to calm down.

“uh, n-no. just got a bit too real there, for a moment.”

he sighs, partially relieved, reassessing the situation. you’re gulping in air, blowing it out of your mouth in calculated puffs.

toji waits until you're visibly calmer before he gets up.

“wait here,” he orders.

you sit down on the floor, hands wrapped around your knees and mentally repeating to yourself that you’re okay, it wasn’t real, you’re not in danger.

toji returns with a glass of water, sitting down in front of you and waiting until you’ve drank most of it.

“you okay?” he asks.

you take a beat before you can honestly say you are. you nod.

“that knife on your throat was a bit too far, huh, babe?”

“yeah,” you garble out, tracing circles on his knees. “could’ve warned me of that particular detail. asshole.”

he laughs but his body language isn't nearly as carefree.

there’s a long drag of silence before he speaks again.

“i’m sorry, honey. really.”

and toji, as amazing as he can be, is usually way too prideful to admit guilt. so the fact that he apologizes is what finally gets you to fully relax, knowing he does realize the situation you were in and feels bad about it.

“honestly we can stop with all the roleplaying bullshit, it’s getting kinda old anyways. you know i don't need you playing a slut to get you acting like one on my co—“

“toji,” you hiss, and he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “it’s fine. i think i have a better idea, anyway.”

that seems to spark his interest. he rises his eyebrows, prompting you to go on.

“because there’s a few roleplays we haven’t tried yet. and if you genuinely feel so bad—“ he says your name sternly but just you ignore him, “then i know the perfect thing you can do to make it up to me.”

“babe…” he bemoans like a chastised child, with a hint of resignation at what awaits him.

when he sees that you’re beaming he just takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair defeatedly.

“when?” is all he asks.

impossibly, your smile grows even wider.

“i already ordered the costume! and the cat ears should be here next week,” you kiss his forehead, propping yourself on his shoulders to stand up.

you hear him groan in the distance as you skip to the bathroom, turning on the faucet.

he stalks after you almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist and honest to god pouting at you in the mirror.

“are ya really going to do this to me now?”

you grin.

“don’t you mean meow, kitty?”

a/n: yayyy my first somewhat wholesome post i am so bad at this but i hope it was readable! bye now!

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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months

Note

As a volunteer, do you have anything to say about what the OTW did to bjorn?

To begin with, I’m going to speak in generalities instead of specifics. This is for a couple of reasons. 1) I’ve been on hiatus from the OTW since August because my life got extremely complicated and volunteering wasn’t something I could continue doing right now. 2) As a result of my hiatus, I was not present for any of the events that transpired. This is simply my own opinion based on the available information, so you can feel free to disagree.

Now, as to your phrasing. You say “what the OTW did to bjorn” and I ask, “What did the OTW do to them?” From the meager information I’ve seen, all of which has been provided by bjorn themselves, they left the OTW of their own accord because they were unhappy with being talked to about their behaviour. This behaviour occurred in the OTW’s chat space which, for those of you who don’t know, is the OTW’s workspace. As a fully online organization, that platform is the equivalent of their office.

bjorn was in that shared workspace, and they set their name to include the phrase “Palestine will be free.” Later, they changed it to “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.” They were told that the first phrase made some people uncomfortable but that they were allowed to continue using it. They were told the second was unacceptable and that they should stop using it. bjorn chose to continue using the second phrasing.

Why is the second phrase seen as unacceptable? A quick google took me to the Anti Defamation League’s explanation of its antisemitism. That same google also provided me with Al Jazeera’s explanation of its complicated history. As a person who is neither Israeli nor Palestinian and as someone who hasn’t spent years studying the history of the region or the complexities of the conflict there, I’m comfortable with the idea that it’s a nuanced issue that different people will see in different ways, and I have personally decided that I should probably avoid using an expression whose interpretation varies so wildly.

Here, I will digress to remind everyone that the OTW is an international volunteer organization. That means there are volunteers there from all over the world - including Israel and Palestine. As far as I’m aware, bjorn is not from that region of the world.

So we have someone using a controversial phrase in a workplace setting where there are people who are immediately affected by the current conflict. My assumption is that they were not doing this to be intentionally aggressive. While I do recognize their name, there are nearly 1000 volunteers at the OTW so I’m afraid I don’t remember this one individual. I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt here, however, and assume that they were not calling for the eradication of all Jews.

I can also, however, understand why anyone who has seen this same phrase used as a justification for terrorist attacks would have difficulty doing the same.

From what I saw in the original post, bjorn was given a warning about their behaviour and then a more formal letter when it continued. CCAP (Constructive Corrective Action Procedure) has a pretty dystopian sound to it, but it’s basically just a conversation between a manager (Chair) and an employee (volunteer) when the employee has kinda messed up a little bit and the manager wants to get them back on track. If the CCAP goes well, then the volunteer is back in good standing and the situation can be put behind them. It’s only if the volunteer and their Chair are unable to get things back on track that the volunteer will be asked to leave the Org. As far as I know, that’s only happened a handful of times (but I’m no expert, and I’m still on hiatus so I can’t go and try to look things up)

bjorn apparently chose option #3, which is to leave the OTW rather than go through that process. That’s a perfectly fine decision to make, and I’m sure they’re not the first volunteer to do so. It was their choice, though. The OTW didn’t kick them out. The OTW didn’t force them out. The OTW told them “this is inappropriate behaviour in an international workplace setting,” and bjorn decided to leave rather than change that behaviour.

I have nothing against bjorn, and I hope their post-OTW life is a good one. However, I've seen posts that have been using bjorn's situation as a way to claim the OTW is a “Zionist organization.” I would like to remind everyone that the OTW is an organization dedicated to the preservation of fanworks. What role do people expect the OTW to take in an international negotiation between Israel and Palestine? How many international policy volunteers do people think they have, and which committee do people think they belong to? Technical Support? Communications?

I’m trending towards sarcasm here but it’s only because I can’t quite believe that there really are people who seem to believe that the OTW - again a fanwork preservation organization - is attempting to do anything at all with regards to an international conflict.

If anyone out there hates the OTW, I encourage them to avoid OTW’s various projects and to decline the biannual opportunities to donate, but please don't generate or share conspiracy theories. There are more than enough of them going around already.

#long post

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faebaex · 5 months

Text

Tangled in Wonderland - Tall, Tall Tales

author note: Eeeeek this is very, very late! A lot of stuff has happened and yada yada but I’m here and I’m sorry! I’m still going to continue with this and I hope I can get back on track with writing this because I’m really enjoying this event! This instalment follows on directly from the Scarabia one, I hope you all enjoy!

characters: Floyd Leech x GN!Reader

“SHRIMPY!”

Oh no.

Your whole body froze up in an instant at the sound of that familiar, unhinged voice. Clearly, fate had decided you hadn’t gone through enough punishment today and decided to add a little bit more spice to your day. And by spice, it meant perhaps one of the most chaotic entities you have ever met. You looked around wildly, trying to spot him as quickly as you could so you could run. He was right on the path leading up to the Hall of Mirrors, roguish grin on his face as he waved both his arms at you. Your only choice was to go back inside and escape through one of the mirrors.

“Stay away from me, Leech!” You snapped, not even bothering with your usual faux attempt to be cordial as you turned on your heel, bolting towards the mirrors. If you could just get through the Heartlabyul mirror, you’d be—

“Aha~! Got you.” Breathed a husky voice right by your ear, suddenly tugged straight off your feet and into the air by the lanky arms that coiled around your midsection, your back flush against his chest.

“Shrimpy is so mean, callin’ me by just my last name! Even when I’ve gone through all the effort to give you a lil nickname too!” Floyd mourned, swinging you around the Hall of Mirrors, your legs swinging perilously out in front of you whilst you clutched onto his arms for dear life and let out a small, undignified scream. “Aah, maybe you thought I was Jade? Because I was really far away? Then maybe I can forgive you, Shrimpy…” His sharp teeth were uncomfortable close to your ear as he let out a little laugh, “or maybe I can just keep spinnin’ you around!”

Floyd picked up the speed of his spinning, his manic laughter drowning out your screams and for a moment, you thought this might be how it all ended… But then you remembered, the Leech twins thrive off of fear in their victims, so you sucked it up and started hitting him on his arms to get his attention. If your legs ended up breaking one of the mirrors, you’d never hear the end of it from Crowley…

“P-put me down, Floyd! I am not a toy!” You cried out, and thankfully your repeated hitting of his arms managed to get his attention, for he finally slowed to a stop. The world spun around you, making you semi-grateful for his arms around your waist. They were the only thing holding you up, at this point.

“Eh? Are you sure you’re not a toy? Azul said somethin’ real interesting the other day…”

Uh oh.

“Did he now…” You remarked, feigning disinterest as best as you could as your vision finally began to right itself again.

“Mhmmm~” Floyd mused against your ear, and you just knew this couldn’t be good, “he said you know things. Things that you should have no way of knowing. Kinda like one of those magic 8 ball things.” Floyd continued, before his mouth split into a broad, terrifying grin. “Maybe if I shake you a little, you’ll tell me all sorts of things too.”

“Floyd, don’t—”

It was too late. You clung to Floyd’s arms as he began to shake you erratically, like you were a chocolate bar stuck in a vending machine. Your head collided with his shoulder multiple times, not hard enough to hurt but definitely jarring in its own way as the world once again became dizzying. Floyd seemed to be enjoying himself, his mocking laughter filling the small hall as he watched your rattled expression.

“Oh magic Shrimpy ball, oh magic Shrimpy ball,” he chanted as he continued to shake you, finally beginning to slow down as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “why did you walk out of the Scarabia mirror just a moment ago?”

Ah, of course he saw that.

With as much strength as you could muster in your dizzy state, you threw an elbow back into his chest, feeling some satisfaction when you heard him let out a small ‘oof’. “That’s none of your business,” you grumbled, your lips turned downwards in distaste. “and that isn’t even how a magic 8 ball works! You’re supposed to ask the question first and then shake it… Don’t start shaking me again!” You quickly warned as a follow up, turning your head to give Floyd a glare. He just gave you that little frustrating grin right back.

“It’s not my fault Shrimpy, I have all this pent-up energy ‘cause you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve missed you.” As if to punctuate his words, he started to squeeze you, and you found yourself once again whacking his arms to get him to release you.

“Floyd! There is no need—” You gasped out, feeling some of your joints cracking harmlessly from the pressure but a tightness building near your ribs that promised pain if he didn’t stop soon. You gasped out a breath when he finally eased up his hold, but very nearly choked when you realised he was waltzing right towards the Octavinelle mirror.

“Floyd, put me down!”

“Nah, Shrimpy, don’t feel like it. Let’s hang out!” Floyd responded in his usual lackadaisical manner, stepping through the Octavinelle dormitory mirror without pause. It was odd, feeling the usually surreal feeling of a bubble forming around you as you floated towards the dorm, but on top of that, Floyd was still holding you, back flush against his chest with your legs dangling in front of you. You can’t imagine how ridiculous it looked.

Floyd walked you straight into the Mostro Lounge without a care in the world, heading straight for one of the unoccupied booths.

“Oya,” you heard another terribly familiar voice as you passed the bar, “I see you have acquired a valuable customer, Floyd. Please enjoy your stay.” Jade hummed with a short bow, not even bothering to hide his toothy grin as he observed your plight. You didn’t even get a chance to scowl before Floyd was bundling you into a booth, none too gently either.

“What? You told me to put you down.” Floyd drawled when you shot him a glare, sitting opposite you and spreading himself out on the available space. He leaned his elbows onto the table, propping his head up with one palm as he stared straight at you.

“Ne, Shrimpy… Why don’t you tell me what you said to Azul the other week to make him come back all shaken up?” Floyd hummed, his smile seeming playful, but you could already see the predatory glint in his eye.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, unsure of what Floyd’s motive was here.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You responded demurely, keeping tight lipped. Floyd’s smile widened, sharp teeth on full display as he leaned forward. “Don’t be like that, Shrimpy! You should have seen it, it was hilarious!” Floyd cackled thumping his hand on the table in front of them, “he came rushin’ back to the Lounge, all pale faced and jumpy, and then locked himself in the VIP room.”

A cocktail glass filled with a blue liquid and decorated with a star shaped garnish was elegantly placed in front of you. A similar glass was placed in front of Floyd. “Yes, Azul was very startled when he returned to the Lounge the other week. We were very worried.” Jade confirmed, folding his hands in front of him, faux concern colouring his tone, but the amusement shone through his close eyed smile.

“I didn’t order this.” You responded dryly, as Floyd already pulled his straw to his mouth and took a gulp from his drink. “Aww just try it Shrimpy, it’s my own recipe! It’s good, see!” He stuck his tongue out, revealing his stained bright blue tongue. You pushed your glass away from you. Yeah, you definitely weren’t going to be trying that.

“I’m positively hurt, prefect. I mixed that with care, just for you.” Jade hummed, his eyebrows down turning in a look of fake hurt. You ignored him.

“We could hear Azul muttering to himself in the VIP room. ‘Who are they’, ‘how do they know that’. He got so mad when we used Jade’s key to unlock the door. You should have seen his face, Ahaa~”

“You spied on your own friend? You guys are ruthless.” You commented casually, and Floyd only grinned at you wider, Jade’s expression not changing from his solemn one.

“The VIP room was quite the mess, too. Papers all over the floor. Azul wouldn’t even let me help him clean it all up, it must have taken him hours.” Jade added, his smile looking more and more devious by the minute.

“So tell us what you did, Shrimpy.” Floyd prodded.

“Yes tell us, prefect.” Jade coaxed.

Both of the Leech twins stared you down, razor sharp smiles on their faces as they attempted to intimidate you into revealing what happened between you and Azul in the library that day. You were starting to see now why Azul insisted on referring to them as just colleagues.

You were in a bit of a bind here. You expected the stunt you pulled on Azul to have some backlash, and you really didn’t want to make the Leech twins anymore interested in you than they already were. And for whatever reason, Azul hadn’t divulged what you had said to him to Jade and Floyd, who were his closest confidants. Or, this was some sort of elaborate ruse that they had strategized to wheedle the information out of you. Either way, you thought you should probably tread with caution here…

… But Azul had been bothering you again lately…

You leaned back into your seat, looking sheepishly away from them both and staring at the smooth pearlescent surface of the table. “I don’t know guys, it’s kind of… Embarrassing…” You muttered. You caught Jade and Floyd sharing a look between each other before they leaned in closer, like sharks tasting blood.

“Ne, it’s okay, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

“It might make you feel better to get it off your chest, prefect…”

Hook, line and sinker.

You glanced up at them, the both of them leaning in uncomfortably close but you masked your distaste by rubbing your arm, as if you were feeling flustered by just thinking about the situation. “Well, um…” You began, pausing for dramatic effect, Floyd leaning in closer in anticipation and Jade nodding gently, as if the comfort you for the difficult story you were about to tell.

“Azul had been visiting me in the library after classes for a few days… We were getting along really well… It was, well… It was nice to have a friend. It’s hard sometimes, being the odd one out…” You sighed softly, really hamming it up for them. They were eating it up, leaning closer as you continued, “but Azul never made me feel like that. He was always so kind, so welcoming.” You smiled for a moment, before you face dropped and your lips pressed together into a tight line. “But then…” You hesitated again, your expression creasing into a distressed frown.

“Did something happen, prefect?”

“Yeah, yeah! Tell us Shrimpy!”

“Well… One day suddenly, he… Asked me on a date… But…” You started, but then you covered your face with your hands and shook your head, “oh I can’t say it, it’s just so… So humiliating!” You cried out, your voice muffled by your hands. Floyd and Jade were watching with rapt attention, Jade not even able to hide his obvious enjoyment at both your perceived distress and the opportunity to get some dirt on Azul, whereas Floyd hadn’t been hiding his excitement in the first place.

“But what, Shrimpy?”

“Please prefect, if you tell us, perhaps we can put your mind at ease…”

Slowly, you uncovered your hands from your face, to see the eager faces of the Leech twins nodding at you encouragingly. You leaned in close, and they followed suit, all three of you huddled together in the booth almost conspiratorially. You looked around nervously, before you continued in a hushed whisper.

“I had to turn him down… He got a little upset, understandably. He couldn’t see why I didn’t like him, why I wouldn’t give him a chance…” Floyd and Jade shared a discreet look at that, because that definitely sounded like the Azul they knew. “I tried to comfort him, to tell him that I thought he was a great guy and it was me not him but he just wouldn’t listen! So I had to tell him the truth…” You winced, wringing your hands together. If Floyd and Jade leaned any closer, you’d all be bumping heads together.

“The truth, prefect?”

“Ne, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

You swallowed, before looking up at them with your best puppy dog eyes. “Okay, please don’t say anything but… … …”

“… I’m allergic to octopus…”

The table fell silent. Floyd and Jade stared at you, motionless, as you peeked up bashfully at them. Then suddenly, Floyd was roaring with laughter, his loud cackle making several of the customers in the Lounge jump in surprise. His hand thumped the table several times, knocking over his drink and sending the bright blue juice spilling all over the shiny white surface and onto the tile below. Jade effortlessly sidestepped before the mess could hit his shoes, but his shoulders were visibly shaking as his hand tried to hide his laughter

“Oh prefect… I’m so pffft… Ahem… I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jade attempted, hand still propped to his chin as he tried to compose himself, rather unsuccessfully screamed with laughter beside him.

“What is going on here?!”

A voice hissed through the Lounge, but the twins didn’t even flinch. If anything, it just sent Floyd into fresh peals of laughter, flopping down on the booth seat as he held his stomach.

Azul stood a few feet away, obviously brought out by the commotion and chaos that was currently happening in your booth. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting there, but he quickly schooled his face again, a detail that Jade caught, making him unable to resist his own toothy grin.

“Jade, you are supposed to be managing the bar. And Floyd, stop that racket right now and get changed. Your shift started thirty minutes ago! And clean up that mess!” Azul ordered with a stern expression, before his eyes landed on you, his lips pursing together, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t disturb them when they are working, prefect.”

You held your hands up defensively as you started to shimmy out of the booth. “Actually, I was just leaving.”

Your words breathed some life back into Floyd, who’d finally recovered from his laughing fit to sit up and climb out of the booth himself, a rapturous smile on his face. “I’ll walk Shrimpy to the door~!” He announced, throwing a heavy arm around your shoulders before you could rebuff him.

“Floyd! You’re supposed to be—”

“I’m terribly sorry for my negligence, Azul. I was just trying to comfort our dear customer over their recent romantic distress.” Jade chimed in, and the only way you would be able to describe the grin on his face was feral. Floyd began cackling again, using Jade’s distraction of Azul as an opportunity to whisk you away and get out of work at the same time.

You pondered whether you should feel bad for setting up Azul for at least a week’s worth of ribbing from the Leech twins as Floyd steered you towards the Octavinelle mirror, but then you remembered he put an anemone on your cat. And Ace and Deuce. Suddenly, your shoulders felt a lot lighter. Well, they would, if Floyd’s lanky arm wasn’t still around them.

Floyd kept his arm around you right until you reached the exit of the Octavinelle dorm, but you chalked it up to him being on a good mood high because of what you’d just told him and Jade. But just as you were about to duck out from under his arm, you felt his hot breath against your ear for the second time that day.

“Ne, Shrimpy. Are you allergic to eel too?”

Before you could even react, you were getting sucked up into one of those magical bubbles again as it began carrying you towards the Octavinelle mirror, your expression bewildered as you stared back at Floyd, who sent you off with a cheeky grin.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

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xxsabitoxx · 10 months

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My Personal Hashira 🍆 Size Ranking

Warning: if it ain’t obvious, this contains smut lmao — therefore Muichiro is 100% not included in this. We’re talking about 🍆, length, girth, all the fun stuff. So if PPs make you uncomfortable keep on scrolling babes </3

A/N: these low key stress me out cause I feel like people can get pretty defensive over these types of Headcanons. Especially if my own thought differs from yours. Regardless, these are just my personal takes/HCs. My word is not law so do not be upset if my HC does not match yours / don’t feel the need to change how you HC these things to fit my POV. This is why I refrain from describing size in my fics, I want y’all to imagine it in a way that you like lololol

Lastly, idgaf if you see some of this as unrealistic, these are fake, fictional drawings of men, if I wanna give Gyomei a 44ft long 🍆, I can and will (I didn’t but you get the point.) Anyways enjoy my personal thoughts on this matter

1. Himejima Gyomei

Is anyone fucking shocked that this 7’2 (220cm) man is packing the biggest schlong among the male Hashira?

I mean let’s be logical real quick, his dick is as big as the rest of him. This man’s dick is dragging on the floor.

Soft: 11.2

Hard: 12.3

Call it unrealistic idgaf this man is LONG

Girthy too, he’s fucking beefy all over

This man’s dick will feel like he’s shoving his wrist up in there ong bro

It curves downward slightly when hard, I mean shit that thing is heavy, it stands no chance against gravity

2. Uzui Tengen

Again, the man is 6’6 (198cm).

Height comes into play when it comes to our two tank Hashira

Therefore none of you should be surprised that they are the top two

Soft: 9

Hard: 10.3

Your guts are getting rearranged, he knows the length he has but often underestimates how far he can go…

He’s long but doesn’t have a crazy girth to him, which thank fuck it doesn’t take as much prep to take him

He’s pretty straight when hard and manages to flex it and keep it up (he totally does dick tricks & you can’t convince me otherwise)

3. Tomioka Giyu

I’m standing by my “big dick Giyu” head canon. I just know this man is packing a weapon down there

What’s crazy is he wasn’t even aware of how good he had it until he overheard other corps members chatting

Soft: 6.3

Hard: 7.4

He’s got a decent girth and as weird as it may sound, it’s pretty, like really pretty to look at

When hard, it curves upwards and stands at attention which makes him a bit embarrassed

He knows how to use it, because of that he’s pretty confident in that aspect which is wild for him

He will also rearrange your guts unintentionally (or intentionally hehe)

4. Shinazugawa Sanemi

I don’t wanna hear one PEEP from any of you that Sanemi should be above Giyu.

My man is forth on the list but that ain’t mean shit, he’s still got a lot going on down there

Soft: 6

Hard: 7

He’s girthy, will tear you up girth, needs thirty minutes of prep minimum because of how wildly he fucks girth

He sticks straight out, no curve in sight and honestly looks like he defies gravity.

He’s like Tengen, can do dick tricks. But unlike Tengen he doesn’t make that known / show you lmao.

He’ll break your back, he may even hurt you (fully unintentional) if he gets too into it. That thing is fr a weapon

5. Rengoku Kyojuro

He’s fifth on the list but trust me he’s not lacking

He’s second smallest, but he’s not small, if you get what I mean. It’s kinda like how we rank the Hashira weakest to strongest but regardless they are still the strongest in the corps… that make sense?

Soft: 5.8

Hard: 6.8

He curves upwards, very prominent veins running along his shaft (heh, shaft)

Girth wise, he’s about normal. Not too intimidating but def offers you a good stretch, forgoing prep is real bold tbh

He’s a quick learner so he quickly masters how to fuck you

He will strive to go as far as your body will let him, so expect to be bruised / sore

6. Iguro Obanai

My king. He may be “smallest” among the Hashira men, but that doesn’t mean shit.

He’s not self conscious of his dick, he knows how to use it. He’s also pretty content with it’s size

Soft: 5.6

Hard: 6.5

See? You can’t come for me cause he ain’t even SMALL

Obanai’s dick is pretty, too. It curves upwards slightly, since he’s pretty pale, his veins are prominent

He’s got an average girth, he doesn’t need to prep you forever to get you ready. Which works in his favor cause he likes to “punish” you with no prep & going in raw

He can and will abuse your cunt, he’s not satisfied until you genuinely can’t walk without limping for a few days

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buckymorelikefuckme · 1 year

Text

a shore thing

bucky barnes x fem reader

i decided to write it hehe

a/n: any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is encouraged & welcomed :) xoxo

Bucky calls your name for the umpteenth time, beyond exasperated as you stumble away, giggling uncontrollably as you evade capture. He's hardly tipsy anymore, having decided to nurse a single beer for the last couple hours when he noticed how heavy you were drinking. Somebody needed to be responsible, he told himself. Even Steve was letting loose more than usual. But, to be fair, they were all on vacation.

“Guys, the taxis are here,” Nat announces, yet again, leaning heavily against one of said vehicles. “Bucky, we gotta go.”

“I’m trying my best here,” he replies. Although, that's not entirely true. “Someone should've cut her off ages ago.”

“Boooooo,” you heckle as you run past him.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Fine. You can stay here by yourself.”

You pause abruptly, almost tripping over your own feet, but you catch yourself before you face-plant into the gravel. “You're leaving me?” you ask in a pitiful tone.

“Yup.” Bucky turns and takes a few steps away, hearing you whine in protest. “Have fun.”

“Noooo, wait!”

Your uneven steps come closer and closer to Bucky and as soon as he gauges you're within arm’s reach he spins around with a smirk. It makes you lurch to a stop, gasping as it dawns on you.

“Betrayal!” you shout, pointing an accusatory finger at him. You try to take off running again, but Bucky is quicker. You're swooped up into a fireman’s carry before you even register your feet leaving the ground. “Ack! Put me down, you absolute caveman!”

Sam sticks his head out of the taxi. “There's room in this one.”

Bucky steers his steps that way, feeling your tiny fists beating his back the whole way, and plops you into the open seat. You let out a cute oof that he ignores as he tries to latch the seatbelt. You're a squirmy little shit though, and he soon finds that the only way he’ll be able to get the group back to the hotel is to enter the taxi himself and pull you into his lap. He quickly shuts the door and finally latches the seatbelt around the both of you, telling the driver to go.

Sam shakes his head in amusement in the seat beside Bucky. “You're seriously the only one who can rally that firecracker of a woman.”

“Hey!” you object with a pout. “I'm drunkies, not deaf. I can still hear you.”

You and Sam begin bickering and Bucky rolls his eyes, but he doesn't do anything to interfere. He's too busy trying to think about literally anything else other than the ginormous mistake he made by placing you on his lap. You, the person he's been in love with for far too long now, who has absolutely no clue of his feelings and sends constant mixed signals.

There are days he's sure you feel the same with the way you look at him, but then the next day you go out of your way to make sure he knows the two of you are just friends. He's losing his fucking mind. He doesn't know if he should tell you how he feels or try to move on.

You're wiggling suddenly, body jostling atop Bucky’s and his mind is forced to return to the present, only to see you and Sam slap-fighting like children.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” he addresses the driver, “I swear they're actually adults when they're not three sheets to the wind.”

The driver waves off the apology with a chuckle. The fight ends with you pinching Sam’s nipple, his cry of pain and outrage making you giggle wildly and throw your head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. After you catch your breath you sit up and wiggle some more until you're sitting sideways and can look at Bucky. Your eyes are glassy and your smile is sly and a touch wonky, and Bucky still thinks you're the cutest, sexiest woman he's ever known.

“Why don't you like me for real?”

The taxi is uncomfortably quiet. Bucky blinks a few times, shifting his gaze to Sam, who’s suddenly very interested in the passing streetlights and palm trees outside the window. Traitor, Bucky thinks. With no help from his supposed friend, Bucky looks back to you.

He clears his throat. “I do like you.”

“No,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I mean like, like me like me. Like, more.”

Bucky is silent again, his mind whirling with a million questions–the biggest one being what the fuck?

“I'm not sure what you mean,” he says carefully. He hopes playing dumb will work in deterring the conversation, but he should've known better.

“You always just joke about it, but you never mean it. Always get my hopes up.”

“What are you talking about?” he blurts, truly flabbergasted, but he cuts you off before you can reply. “No, don't answer that. You're drunk, okay? You don't know what you're saying.”

You poke his cheek roughly, pouting. “I just want you to like me back, Buck. Wanna kiss you whenever I want.”

Bucky swallows thickly, unable to take his eyes away from yours as you lean in closer.

“Don't you wanna kiss me?” you question, reaching up you play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?”

Your lips graze his, a feather-light touch, and he exhales shakily. Of fucking course he wants to kiss you. He's wanted nothing else for the last year. But he doesn't want it like this. He says your name, voice low in warning. You either don't hear him or you don't care.

Bucky’s eyes flutter closed as you continue pressing light kisses to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin, along his jaw. He fists his hands where they rest on either side of you, praying for the will to remain strong.

“You're drunk,” he repeats, a last ditch effort in getting you to stop, but even he can hear how weak the protest is.

“I still know what I want, what I feel.” You brush your nose against his. “I want you.”

Sam coughs pointedly beside both of you. “We’re here.”

Bucky is quick to unlatch the seatbelt and help you out of the car. Nat walks over and grabs your hand, Steve walking leisurely behind her.

“Let's go to bed, please,” she begs as she drags you with her.

You begin whining again, reminding Bucky of your inebriated state. He shouldn't have let you kiss him. You're not going to remember any of this tomorrow. Guilt punches him in the gut. He's so fucking weak when it comes to you.

“I wanna sleep with Bucky,” you complain as you resist.

Natasha squawks. “What?!” Her eyes are as wide as saucers, flicking back and forth from you and Bucky. Sam fails to hide his snort.

“His bed is bigger,” you explain, “You take up too much space.”

Natasha gasps. “How dare you!”

You turn to Bucky with pleading eyes. “Bucky, please let me sleep with you.”

“I… I'm not sure that's a good idea,” he replies.

You stomp your foot. “Pleeeease?” Your pout is lethal. “I promise I won't take up too much space.”

Sam puts his hand over Nat’s mouth before she can start yelling, doing his best to frogmarch her into the hotel so they don't cause a disturbance. Steve follows languidly, which is the sign that he's quickly coming down from his drunken high and will likely crash the moment his head hits the pillow.

“You should just sleep in your room with Nat,” Bucky advises.

“I don't wanna sleep with her,” you say, stepping back into Bucky’s space. One of your hands grasps his shirt, the other trailing across his chest. He fights the shiver threatening to run down his spine. “I wanna cuddle you.”

You look up at him through your lashes and Bucky knows he's lost. He sighs. You grin and giggle, grabbing his hand to lead him inside the hotel. He's quiet the whole ride up in the elevator. Your head is resting on his shoulder, humming along to whatever song is playing in your head. You’re still holding his hand.

When you're both standing in front of his room door, Bucky pauses, about to try one last time to get you to go two rooms down to the one you're supposed to be sharing with Nat, but you snatch the key card out of his hand and open the door before a word can leave his mouth. He doesn't trust you to be alone right now, and with Sam babysitting Nat and Steve probably snoring away in his own room, Bucky accepts his fate. He enters the room, closing the door with resignation.

“Ugh, god, these heels are the worst,” you grumble as you trip your way over to sit on the bed. You fight with the small buckle before making a noise of complaint. “Buckyyy…”

“Jesus,” he mutters, huffing as he walks to you.

He kneels in front of you and carefully takes your shoes off. You hum, pleased, once your feet are free, wiggling your toes.

“Why do you wear them if you hate them so much?” he mumbles.

“Because they make my legs and ass look fantastic, duh.”

Well. That's fair, Bucky supposes.

“Can you unzip me now?”

Fuck. Bucky chokes on nothing.

“Unzip you? What are you planning on sleeping in? Your pajamas are in your room,” he points out.

“Can't I borrow one of your shirts?” you ask, blinking innocent eyes up at him.

He doesn't trust it one bit.

“Please, Bucky? My dress won't be comfortable.”

Your pout makes yet another appearance. He doesn't bother pointing out that you wouldn't have this problem if you went to your own room. You'd ignore him anyway.

“Fine,” he grumbles. He rifles through his bag to find a shirt for you, grabbing pajamas for himself while he's at it. “I'll go change in the bathroom.”

He turns to head that way, but you stop him.

“My dress,” you remind him, spinning around and pointing at the zip.

Bucky's pretty sure you could do this by yourself, but he's just ready to go to bed at this point, so he’ll do whatever he has to to get there. He tries not to put too much thought into the action, but his mind can't help but wander, imagining unzipping your dress with different intentions. The more skin that is revealed to him, the more his breathing picks up. He takes note that you didn't wear a bra with this dress, which makes him realize you'll be wearing his shirt with only your underwear beneath it. He curses mentally.

He steps away like he's been burned once the zipper reaches the bottom. “There you go,” he says, voice gruff.

He doesn't wait for your response, quickly escaping into the bathroom before anything else can be asked of him. It doesn't take Bucky long to change his clothes, but he still lingers in the small space to gather his wits, taking his time as he brushes his teeth, and even splashes some cold water on his face. He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment.

“She’ll forget all of this by morning,” he assures himself.

He's not fond of the way that statement makes his stomach twist.

When he leaves the bathroom, he finds your dress pooled on the floor in the same spot you stood as he unzipped it. You're standing next to the bed, fidgeting with the hem of Bucky’s shirt that hangs off your small frame. He raises a quizzical brow.

“I don't know which side you prefer,” you say, unsure.

Bucky feels himself soften at your expression. “I'm good either way.”

You dart for the left side, lifting the comforter and sheets and snuggling underneath them. Bucky's lips twitch, but he resists smiling.

“C’mon, Buck, I want cuddles,” you entice, patting the spot beside you exaggeratedly.

He only hesitates for a split second. It's late and exhaustion is settling in his bones. He’ll worry about consequences in the morning.

You waste no time in invading his space once he's in the bed. You nudge his arm until he lifts it, worming your way under it and placing your head on his chest, your own arm slung over his waist. Bucky goes still, holding his breath until you get comfortable. Slowly, he lets his arm fall across your back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

“Bucky?” you whisper.

“Hm?”

You nuzzle into his pec. “Love you.”

Bucky's eyes snap open then. His heart begins hammering in his chest and he prays that you're close enough to sleep to not notice.

“Goodnight,” he rasps after a minute passes by.

Your only reply is a light snore. Bucky feels his heart crack in his chest.

The next morning, Bucky lies awake, staring at the ceiling. He's not sure exactly how much sleep he got, but it wasn't a lot. You only got clingier as you slept, practically wrapping your whole body around him.

Bucky is a weak, weak man.

Sunlight begins peeking through the curtains, eventually finding its way to the bed and across your closed eyes. A frown forms between your brows and he almost smoothes it with his thumb. The only reason he stops himself is because you groan and turn away before he can.

“Turn it off,” you croak.

“The sun?” he retorts with a laugh.

“Yes,” you reply derisively. “Kick its ass for waking me up.”

Bucky smiles to himself. “Whatever you want, my love.”

It feels like the room freezes in time after the endearment escapes him. With a jolt, you sit up and face him. Bucky can't read your expression, but that's mostly because he's doing his best to look anywhere but your face.

“Seriously?” you gripe. “You're still going to poke fun about that kind of shit even after what I said last night?”

That gets his attention pretty easily. He meets your gaze and hates the dejected look on your face.

“What–what are you talking about?” he questions, thrown.

Your chin wobbles slightly before you scoff, whipping the comforter off your body as you attempt to leave the bed, but Bucky sits up and grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Wait–”

“Let go of me,” you demand, refusing to look at him.

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on,” he replies firmly.

You turn to him with a glare. “You're still joking about my feelings for you, even though I made it perfectly clear how I felt last night.”

“Felt? You… you don't feel the same anymore?” He's grasping for straws here. “I thought–I mean, I didn't think you were serious. You were drunk, I…”

“It doesn't matter if I still feel the same or not,” you reply, the fight leaving your body.

“Yes, it does!” he exclaims. “God, of course it fucking matters. If you have feelings for me, I need to know.”

“Have I not made it abundantly clear already?!” you retort. “If you're that fucking dense, then here you go: I'm fucking in love with you, you big, stupid, gigantic ass–”

He cuts you off by dragging your body to his and kissing you. You make a sound of shock, but you don't push him away, so he deepens the kiss, tilting his head and flicking his tongue at the seam of your lips. You open for him with a gasp, your tongue meeting his and making you both moan. He pulls away, chest heaving.

“We're both stupid,” he declares. “I'm in love with you too. I thought you were the one not taking it seriously.”

Your dazed expression begins clearing and realization sets in. “Oh my god,” you mumble as you yank him back into a kiss that has him reeling.

“Do you know,” he starts between kisses, “how fucking hard it was—to be a gentleman last night?”

You giggle. “I was hoping you wouldn't be a gentleman.”

Bucky curses, manhandling you until you're flat on your back. “That can be arranged.”

“Promises, promises,” you goad, biting your lip.

“Exactly,” he replies, lips tugging into a smirk.

Needless to say, the two of you have to put up with merciless teasing for the rest of the trip… But it's worth it.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader

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celestiaras · 6 months

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ he makes for a great dog ]❜

ft. vox akuma x gn! reader — luxiem, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ vox “i ain’t a bottom” akuma actually makes for a great dog if you put a muzzle on him┊0.8k words

contains: smut!! dom(ish) reader & sub(ish) vox┊established relationship with a side of hate sex if you squint, fighting for dom, pet play (leashes, muzzles, pet names), bratting/brat-taming (?), riding to mating press, unprotected sex, slight edging/teasing, mild pain play, biting & bleeding, breeding, hair-pulling

➤ author's note: would it be too out of character to make him whimper? i started his and completely fell off, who let me write smut┊inspired by (clip) & (clip)

“fucking bitch,” he snarled, his sharp teeth bared behind the muzzle you wrestled onto him with his heavy breathing dampening the metal wires.

“aww, that’s not a nice thing to say to the one who has you on a leash, now is it?” your voice remained surprisingly steady when vox was rutting into you like the feral dog in heat you were treating him as.

“do you think that you can boss me around just because you thought it would be cute to cage my mouth up? you have another thing coming for you.”

you giggled when he choked on his words with a simple roll of your hips, tugging on the leather strip to force him to make eye contact with you, “be a good mutt for your master, okay? i’ll give you a treat if you obey me~”

“shut the hell up,” his tone dripped with venom even though he felt like he was going to lose his mind— trying to nuzzle his face into the crook of your shoulder but unable to kiss you, to taste you, to run his tongue over every inch of exposed skin, but he couldn’t because of this stupid muzzle.

his inability to use his mouth led to him being rougher with his hands, pressing into your skin harshly enough to leave bruises with small crescent indents being made from his black-painted nails. he was too tempted to just remove the silver cage since his hands were free, but that would be losing this stupid bet he made with you and he was far too proud to admit defeat.

all he had to do was keep it on before he could come, but it was proving to be much more difficult than he thought— especially with how good you felt like his cock was made to fill you up and how sexy you looked with the domineering bedroom eyes, there was rarely anything more fun in the bedroom than having to grapple you in order to protect his reputation of being a top. is being driven to the point of madness from lust really worth making a point out of pride? he so badly needed more stimulation that you just weren’t providing him with the sole purpose of teasing him and you were damn good at it, softly kissing him and being all innocent like you weren’t testing the limits of his patience by keeping that cage on him for as long as you possibly could.

the cold metal pressing into your skin was admittedly uncomfortable, but it was worth it to see the big bad demon reduced to such a needy mess. he was so sure that it would be a simple task that he could handle with ease, saying that he would be your pet and submit to you if he failed this bet. who would have known that he would have overestimated his own abilities against you so wildly?

“how about… how about we take this stupid thing off? it isn’t as fun when you restrain me, right?” he was getting desperate enough to try and compromise with you, trying to convince you that this silly little game wasn’t worth withholding pleasure from the both of you.

“hmm?” you tilted your head at him in mock confusion. “you aren’t having fun? i’m having the time of my life right now, seeing how cute you are as a bottom. who would have thought that all it takes for the great vox akuma to submit was a muzzle?”

something in him snapped when you said that and that was his breaking point, using his demon strength to break off the muzzle with one hand with small bits of metal flying off to the side while he flipped you on your back like you were lighter than air. his action caught you off guard when you suddenly found your legs hanging uselessly over his shoulder while he animalistically rammed into your hole like you were the last souls on earth.

you hissed in pain when you felt him sink his fangs into the flesh of your shoulder then soothing the pain by licking at the fresh wound he inflicted, the metallic taste being sweet on his tongue. you didn’t even feel the knot in your abdomen unravel until it actually happened, leaving you to see white as your lover chased his own long-awaited high while riding out yours until he painted your insides white leaving you feeling sticky and full.

vox finally stilled and panted from loss of breath at the abrupt exertion of energy, but he’d never felt so much relief from so much pent-up frustration. however, his victory was short-lived when he felt your hand snake into his raven locks and pull him off of you, making him groan in response as his eyes rolled back.

you clicked your tongue at him in disappointment even though you knew that this would happen from the very beginning, “what a bad dog you’ve been, i wonder what punishment you should get for disobeying me?”

#📜. her works #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji smut #nijisanji #vox akuma x reader #vox akuma smut #vox akuma #luxiem x reader #luxiem smut #luxiem

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fandomfucker · 4 months

Note

pls could you write another one shot off Rhea , Dom!Rhea x sub!Reader, with the prompt “Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.” btw your last one shot was just perfect 💜

Warnings: 18+ There is light smut in this! (Dom!Rhea, Sub!Reader, kissing, hickeys, oral and penetration mentioned, slight ownership) as well as a creepy man😔

A/N-This one is short and doesn't go very far so I'm sorry but please enjoy anyways. There will be another more detailed Rhea smut coming soon!

Word Count: 1,067

I waited backstage in the WWE arena for the night as my girlfriend, Rhea Ripley, fought against her former friend, Raquel Rodriguez.

Rhea had been on the road for over two weeks straight now, having her normal TV appearances along with house shows and PPVs so we hadn't seen each other in forever which gave me the grand idea to surprise her backstage at her last Raw show.

Dominik stood beside me as we watched Rhea on the screen before us. She was kicking Raquel's ass. And she looked smoking hot while she was doing it.

She wore her usual black bottoms with purple feathers and a cut-up T-shirt depicting herself on the front. She wore black knee-high boots that gave her an extra inch in height along with her famous 'Mami' choker as her hair swung wildly around her face.

A few minutes into Rhea's match, I felt a pair of eyes on me. Trying to turn my head around as discretely as possible, I saw a man staring at me from across the room. He looked like an average 45-year-old man but as he stared at me and we made direct eye contact, a chill washed over me and I got a bad feeling.

Dom looked over at me when I visibly shuddered, his eyeline shifting to see what I was looking at. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stiffen before wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his body in a side hug.

While Rhea and I weren't secretive about our relationship, some men had chosen to ignore it and occasionally go after me anyway when Rhea wasn't around to fend them off.

I relaxed into Dominik's side as we continued watching the match, cheering quite loudly once Rhea won and her title was returned to her.

As the screens went black, insinuating a commercial break, the man from before stepped in front of the screen, forcing me to look at him.

Dom's arm got tighter around my shoulder as the man spoke.

"Hey cutie, I was thinking that after the show tonight, we could go out and grab drinks?"

He was rubbing his hands together in a really sleazy way that made me uncomfortable.

But before I could answer him, someone behind me answered for him.

"She already has plans."

I turned around, a cocky smile now growing on my face as I saw my girlfriend standing there, pissed as hell.

The man was also now visibly pissed. "Well, I think the little lady here can speak for herself. You don't own her."

I beat Rhea to the response this time. "Actually, she does."

I slipped out from underneath Dominik's protective hold on me, sending him a suggestive wink as I twirled around feeling certain that he could hold his own against this man, moving towards Rhea.

Grabbing her hand, I interlaced our fingers and began to pull her down the hallway back to her dressing room.

Rhea walked ahead of me into the room as I closed the door behind us. She was seething as she paced the room in front of the couch. I locked the door to ensure we wouldn't be interrupted before walking up to her, placing a hand on her forearm causing her to stop in her tracks and look at me.

Anger and concern swirled in her eyes, mixed with a protectiveness over me. She stepped closer and held my hips in her hands. "Are you okay?"

I gave her a reassuring smile as I nodded up at her, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear and out of her eye.

Standing on my tiptoes, I brushed my lips against the column of her throat, dragging them across her throat over to her ear. "Please mark me, I want everyone to know I'm yours."

That seemed to ignite a flame in her as she immediately locked one hand around my throat, the other still on my waist, using the hand around my throat to guide me to the couch.

The backs on my knees hit the edge and I automatically sat down, looking up at her as I waited for her next command.

Her hand was still wrapped around my throat, just loose enough to let me breathe freely. Her thumb began to trace circles around my racing pulse as she got down on her knees in front of me.

She pushed my knees apart with the hand that was formerly on my hip, pushing herself between my legs to where her hips met the edge of the couch. The hand that clutched my throat let go and dragged down my front to the hem of my t-shirt. Well, really, it was Rhea's I had just stolen it to wear tonight.

I lifted my arms above my head in a show of consent for her to take my shirt off and she immediately took it off as fast as she could.

She stopped and stared at the lacey purple and black bra I'd worn for her and licked her lips, her tongue piercing catching the overhead light.

I grinned down at her as our eyes met and she laid a hand on my stomach, pushing me down against the cushions.

Her lips brushed against my skin all the way from my waist up to just underneath my chin as she teased me. Goosebumps grew along my body at her touch.

"God, I missed you," She murmured against my skin, getting only a moan from me in response.

What was left of her lipstick left stains on my skin as she kissed her way back down, savoring the feel of my pebbled flesh on her lips.

Having waited to be told to take off my bra, once it was finally off, Rhea rolled each of my nipples between her fingers as she left my boobs covered in bruises, marking her presence.

She left hickeys all down my body—the biggest ones between my thighs and on my collarbone. Not only just marking me, but claiming me as hers.

My favorite mark, however, was the one she left on the lip of my pussy just before taking my clit into her mouth and sucking as her three main fingers were inserted into me.

The moans she created in me could be heard outside the door and the hickeys were blatantly obvious if the stares and refusal of eye contact for the next few days were any indications. But I wouldn't have it any other way. Nothing beats belonging to Mami.

#rhea ripley #the judgement day #wwe raw #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #tjd x reader #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley imagine #mami rhea #the judgment day wwe #the judgment day x reader

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fakegingerrights · 6 months

Text

Bloody knees and bruised cheeks

[Crosshair brainrot go brrrrr. TW: Alcohol, bar fights, questionable attitudes towards cloning, blood and broken glass. And Crosshair being a flirt in his own way. Crosshair x gn!Reader]

“This seat taken, Sunshine?” The obviously drunk man’s breath hot on your cheek as he leaned in far too close for comfort.

“It is.” You bit back, glancing nervously at the bartender and hoping he’d get the creep off you. You knew your boyfriend had said he might be running late, but an hour and a half was pushing it.

“Well, I don’t see a name on it. Lemme buy you a drink.” The man cajoled, swirling his own cheap beer in his glass.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You leaned as far away as the barstool let you without tipping over. “I’m waiting for someone. And he wouldn’t like you hovering like this.”

“Is that a threat, Sweetcheeks?” The man growled, leaning even farther into your space. A cold voice snarled behind him, sending a ripple through you as you turned back to look at the newcomer.

“Yes.” Crosshair snarled, standing there in all his dusty and carbon stained, red and black armored glory as he placed himself between you and the drunk.

“That’s what you’re waiting for? A labgrown meat droid? I should take you home anyways and show you how a real man fucks.” The drunk slurred, lurching to his feet and squaring up to Crosshair. Cross didn’t budge, but you could tell he was too tired for this.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Crosshair’s voice was flat and cold, a hard promise. The drunk snarled, smashing his glass of half full beer against Crosshair’s pauldron, shattering it and sending shards everywhere. As soon as Cross was in the clear for self defense he grabbed the drunk and had him pinned on the bar.

“Care to-“

“Corascant guard is already on the way. Uh… sir.” The bartender fumbled, glancing at the bouncer for the bar. Crosshair grunted at the title. “We’ll take it from here if you want to take your girl home.” The barkeep offered. Even he could see the exhaustion in Cross’s shoulders.

“Great. Next time don’t let creeps get that close to an uncomfortable lady.” He hissed, passing the swearing drunk to a beefy looking zabrak. The greasy man took the opening and broke free, swinging wildly and connecting with Crosshair’s jaw just as he was turning away. As he did, you caught sight of a dripping red line cut into the side of his cheek just under his eye, presumably from the glass shattering.

He staggered but was quick to break the man’s nose and send him sprawling. The zabrakii bouncer got ahold of him now, pulling the drunk away.

Gingerly, you slipped your hand into Crosshair’s, getting his attention. “Let’s go home. Tonight’s a bust anyways. Unless you want to wait for the guard to get here and haul you to a hospital to patch your cheek up?” You murmured lowly, already knowing his answer and pulling towards the door before he even grunted a negative. There was a fine tremor in the very tips of his fingers as he tightened his grip on your hand.

The bar you two had planned to meet at for drinks was only a few blocks from your tiny shoebox of an apartment. Crosshair hissed and stepped away from you only a minute into your walk, shaking like a dog and sending residual splinters of glass tinkling to the ground.

“Bastard got glass in all the chinks of my armor. I’ll have to have Tech send it through a scrub cycle again.” He growled sourly. “Damn stuff got everywhere.”

“I can scrub it out when you get home. Call it a thank you for taking care of that guy.” You fumbled with the keys as he hovered behind you.

“I’m your boyfriend. That’s my fucking job.” Crosshair hissed softly, a hand finding your chin and lifting it so you met his eyes. He had taken his glove off to rid it of splinters. His hand was cool against your skin, fingers still trembling slightly in his exhaustion as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, nipping at them a little with a smug quirk of his mouth. He tasted like blood and ozone.

“My stars get a ROOM!” One of your helpful neighbors yelled from the apartment next to yours. You flipped them off without looking, dragging Cross inside and hardly even pausing the kiss.

His hand shifted from your jaw to curl protectively around your neck, the motion making you sigh into the kiss as you reach up to cup his cheek, only for him to hiss and pull away as your fingers meet the unpleasantly warm and tacky sensation of half dried blood from the cut on his cheek.

“Let’s get you out of your armor and blacks.” Your murmur, your voice slightly throatier than normal. At this close you could see the dark circles under his eyes and the rapidly darkening bruising along his jaw where he had been punched. He just grunted an affirmative as he fumbled with the catches, carefully removing each piece.

After he got all of it but his boots, there were several small shards even still that littered the floor. He took off the top of his blacks too, shaking the garment out. You gasped at the sight of bruised ribs and a row of neat stitches above his hip covered in thin medical film to keep them dry.

“It looks worse than it is.” Crosshair filled in the silence. He dropped the top of his blacks in the pile with the rest of his armor and gingerly flopped down on the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes as he sighs, tension slowly seeping out of his body as he relaxed.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, let me look at your cheek. And don’t get blood on that couch, it was my grandmother’s.” You call over your shoulder, grabbing a bag of frozen peas for his jaw and looking for the medistrips in the first-aid kit.

“Ah. So that’s why it smells like mothballs and old lady perfume.” He groused from his sprawled position.

“Har har har.” You rolled your eyes, catching his soft smile at the banter and grinning to yourself.

“I’m stealing your shower when I’m done.” He grunted, carefully sitting up and blinking as he took his arm off his eyes.

You sat on the tiny coffee/dining table in front of him, armed with a damp rag, first aid kit and your frozen vegetables. He took the peas and pressed them against his jaw, sighing at the contact as you dabbed at the bloody mess on the other side of his face.

“This is gonna sting a bit.” You warned as you doused a clean corner of the rag with hydrogen peroxide once you got the blood mostly cleaned up.

“When does it not.” Cross hissed rhetorically, his grip tightening on his knee as you cleaned the cut and made sure there was no glass embedded in his skin before carefully applying the medistrips and butterfly bandages you found. The cut wasn’t deep and you didn’t think it needed stitches, so it probably wouldn’t scar either.

“There you are. Now go shower, you smell like beer and a teen boy’s lockerroom.” You tease, helping him to his feet as he took the peas off his jaw, working it a few times to check for stiffness. Crosshair pouted at the insult but went, ducking into the small bathroom as you went through your drawers to come up with a pair of sweats and an oversized teeshirt for him to wear.

You knocked on the bathroom door before walking in, setting the clothes on the toilet glancing at Crosshair as he stood under the hot spray, rolling his neck appreciatively.

“You’re gonna send my water bill through the roof.” You tease, grabbing him a toothbrush and mint paste and passing it to him.

“That’s your fault, giving me access to the shower.” He snarked right back, sighing as he washed his hair, fingers combing through suds and silver curls. “Want to join me and make the most of it?” He offered, but you shook your head.

“Don’t think me joining will get you any cleaner. Might even do the opposite.” You wink as he rinses off again.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged, turning the water off and motioning for a towel. You passed it to him with a fold exasperation as the two of you brushed your teeth and he got dressed, forgoing the shirt and toweling his hair off.

As you changed into nightclothes yourself and slipped into bed next to him, he seemed happy. Content. You pressed your face into the spot just above his sternum and sighed as one arm wrapped around you and the other tucked under his head, propping him slightly above you. You relaxed into the embrace, missing the words as they rumbled in his chest.

“What was that?” You mumbled sleepily, looking up at him.

“I said thank you.” He murmured right back, kissing your forehead. “And you’re out of conditioner.”

“Ass.” You accuse, snuggling closer.

“Proudly.” He agreed, a smile tugging at his lips. You were silent for a long moment and he almost thought you were asleep when you spoke up again.

“Why were you late?” You whisper into the darkness. Crosshair rumbles sleepily.

“Got jumped by vulture droids as we changed hyperspace lanes. Tech outflew them, as always.”

“And the mission?” You ask, listening to his slow heartbeat as he replies.

“Successful. Can’t say much else, unfortunately. Not sure when I leave again, before you ask.” He presses another kiss to your temple and tucks your head under his chin. “Go to sleep already, I’m tired.”

“Fine, fine.” You grumble. “Hey Cross? I love you.”

“I…” He paused, feeling stupidly off guard at the phrase even though you’ve said it a dozen times.

“I know.” You whisper, before he can doubt himself. “You don’t have to say it for me to know.”

“I love you too.” He whispered back, smiling sheepishly at the rush of elation and nerves he got even now every time he did. “I always will.”

#the bad batch #gingerwrites #star wars #the clone wars #tbb crosshair #clone wars #crosshair #crosshair x reader #soft crosshair #tbb crosshair imagine #tbb crosshair x reader

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firsttimewriter92 · 1 year

Note

Heyo! I’ve requested this to a couple different writers just to see the way it differs and so far Im still waiting for them to respond, which is fine, but I was hoping I could at least request it to you as well :)

I have ADHD and other mental conditions and stuff and was wondering, if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, that you could do the 141 + Konig where the reader (female) had ADHD and was super energetic and talkative the entire day and the boys were just stressed out from the long day or a bad mission and had said something hurtful to the reader, which caused them to either try and suppress their ADHD ticks or just talk less and become less energetic and social.

I’m a sucker for angst cuz I’m sad and lonely lol 🥹. If you could please do this or at least think about it that would be amazing, thanks 🫶🫶

Hello, my love. I LOVED your ask and gave it a shot. I hope you´ll forgive me that I only came up with something for Ghost, Price and König so far. Maybe I´ll do another part with Gaz and Soap.

As I don´t have ADHD or know anyone who does, I really hope I catured what it´s like as best as possible. Please let me know if there´s something wrong. Please enjoy and don´t feel lonely! There´s a whole community for CoD out there who welcome you with open arms! <3

Warnings: angst, panic, yelling, cursing, fluff, hurt/comfort

Words: 3.001

Ghost

You were just putting away the dishes from your dinner when you heard the front door open. Your heart lurched into your throat knowing who just came home. You bolted around the corner and there he was. The hulking figure of your boyfriend Simon. His frame took over most of the space of the short hallway as he moved to take off his jacket. You knew he needed a little time to adjust before he would be able to give you attention so you waited, though still hopping from one excited foot to the other quickly. Grinning wildly and lightly giggling.

You heard a long sigh coming from Simon and your heart sank a little. It must have been a draining mission. He lifted his head and his dark eyes looked at you wearily. You stopped hopping immediately and a cold, cold shiver ran over your back. You saw the haunted look in your boyfriends eyes and you didn’t know how to help him best right now. Then, to really spike your panic, you saw Simon shake his head and move backwards to the door. “I can´t deal with this tonight” was all he murmured before he turned and left your shared apartment, leaving you standing there with the most horrible feeling in your stomach.

Simon was at a loss. He was sitting in a quiet corner of his favourite Pub, sulking into his pint. The last mission almost cost him every single one of his team members. Johnny was still in hospital. He just couldn’t deal with bubbly, happy or hyper right now. At least that´s what he thought. His fist clenched around the glass when he tried to suppress his self-loathing. Wasn’t your talkative person and happy nature exactly what had enticed him in the first place? What was he doing? Instead of listening to you ramble about your day, about the newest plant you got or how much you enjoyed cooking this new dish, effectively draining all the bad thoughts from his mind, he was sitting alone in a Pub, still thinking about the horrors of the last couple of weeks.

He knew all you´d wanted to do a couple of hours ago was envelop him into your arms and making him feel home. A huge gash opened in his chest. Growling at himself he stood and left the Pub. He had to see you right now.

In your apartment you sat on the couch, trying to read one of your favourite books and not feel rejected by the one you loved. You really tried to understand why he left. Why he left you with these words hanging in the air. Where you really too much? You were just excited. Was that too much as well? You felt your eyes sting. The front door opened and your heart plummeted into your stomach.

He needed space, so you stayed seated and decided you wouldn’t bother him with your presence until he really wanted it. At the door, Simon waited for your hurried footsteps, craving your hug more than anything. But nothing came. No footsteps, no happy squeal, nothing. He knew he´d fucked up big time then.

As he walked into the living room and saw you sitting on the couch, his heart squeezed painfully when you wouldn’t look at him. He heard you sniffle and immediately went over to you. “I´m sorry, dove. I´m so, so sorry” he whispered when he sat down and immediately pulled your whimpering form onto his lap. You held onto his shirt and marvelled in his scent and warm, firm chest. Simon buried his head into your hair and still continued to apologise. “I stepped over the line when I said what I said, my love. I can deal with it! I need your bubbly self, especially now. I´m so sorry.” His big arms caged you in and slowly you came down. Warmth and love melted into your veins again as you spoke.

“If you need more space from me when you come back, just let me know before you come home. So I´m not a bother.” You heard a desperate sound crawling up his throat when he repositioned you to look into your eyes. His big hands were framing your face when he said in a choked up voice “No. No, don’t ever hide who you are from me. I´m the one who needs to work on this. You did nothing wrong.” He sighed. “I thought I couldn’t deal with it but the truth is, it made everything much worse. I need your adorable rambling when I come back so I don’t have to think about what happened. It just took me a while to realise and I´m incredibly sorry. I´ll do better, I promise. I love you.” You shook your head and lovingly stroked his face. “Just let me know exactly what you need and I´ll adjust. Just don’t push me away like that. I love you just as much.” He kissed your fingertips, your nose, your forehead and finally your lips. “Never again, love. I promise.” You smiled against his lips and kissed them again.

Cuddling on the couch for several minutes he could feel the words stuck on your tongue just dying to come out. “What is it?” he asked with a grin. You grinned back just as wide. “I bought a new plant” you said with a giggle. Simon sighed happily and nodded his head. “Of course you did” he said lovingly. “Go on then, show me.”

Price

John had been home for about three days now and was still on edge. He really tried not to let it show or not make you worried about him. He still had a lot of paperwork to fill out and visits to the base. You wanted him to feel as comfortable as possible so you decided to really scrub down the flat.

You were really proud of yourself when you finally came to the last room, John´s office. It smelled of leather, John and faint cigar smoke. Smiling fondly you looked at the clean and organised desk. John´s things always had a designated place to be, at least on his desk. Smiling giddily you took a picture frame into your hands. It showed John and you at one of Gaz´s barbeques. John had a beer bottle in hand, red cheeks and smiling so wide, his eyes were completely closed. The picture was made just as you´d jumped onto his back clumsily, almost making him fall. You were perched on his back, your arms thrown around his shoulders. John was leaning forward slightly but already had one hand securely and possessively on your thigh, holding you to him. At this very moment you felt so incredibly lucky to have met him.

John came back later that evening, just as you started preparing dinner. He looked exhausted and a little annoyed as he entered the kitchen and living space, smiling at you shortly and kissing your forehead. You hummed sweetly. “I cleaned the whole apartment today” you said grinning. John raised an eyebrow and looked around. His lips twitched. “You did good, love. Everything´s so orderly.” You knew how much he loved it when the lovely chaos you preferred living in was a little more controlled. You giggled and kissed his cheek. “Get washed up, dinner will be ready soon.” He gave you a grateful smile and nodded, leaving the kitchen.

Several minutes later you heard heavy footsteps stomping down the hallway. Curious you looked at the door just as John walked in. His shoulders were tense and his blue eyes blitzed dangerously and annoyed. “Did you clean my office as well?” he asked quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. You blinked. “Yes, why?” you asked. He shook his head and huffed. “Then I´m sure you can tell me where the bloody hell my work phone is!” You took a short step back when you heard him raise his voice that way. Slight panic settled into your chest. “Uhm” you said and tried to think if you saw his phone. “I´m not sure if…” “You´re not sure? Ok. I´m sure,___. It was on my desk when I left. You know how important that thing is? Where did you put it?” Your head was reeling when you really tried to think if you removed the phone from his desk. “I-I don’t remember” you said breathlessly. John groaned.

“You know, what good is it that you finally clean up your clutter if you remove the things that I actually need?”

Immediately after he closed his mouth he saw you fall into yourself. Your shoulders sagged, your whole face showed panic and bewilderment. Worst of all however was the moment he saw all the light vanish from your eyes. He knew instantly he made a huge mistake. Yes, he was annoyed, but it wasn’t like the phone was gone forever. The both of you just had to find it. When you turned around he knew you didn’t want him to see you like that. He felt terrible. You´d put up with his demeanour for the last couple of days and the first inconvenience made him explode like that. He heard you sniffle.

“___” he said in a small voice, walking over to you. “___, love, I´m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me to say. It´s just a phone. We´ll find it.” He saw you nod but you didn’t turn around. “Baby” he tried again. This time you did turn around and his heart almost gave out. Your eyes were brimming with tears but they looked at him with no emotion at all. Your mouth was a straight line and your jaw was set. “You know I have trouble remembering things. You know that keeping up with one task at the time is basically impossible for me.” He nodded and hung his head. “I know” he said slowly. You huffed. “I´m sorry. I´ll find your phone as soon as dinner is ready.”

John shook his head, walked over and turned off the stove. You looked at him curiously. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the sofa. He urged you to sit down and the moment you did, he knelt on the floor in front of you and touched his forehead to your knees. He breathed you in for several moments before lifting his head. “I really should learn how to prioritise things better. I know how to keep everything orderly and all that but…now it´s not only me and my job. Now it´s also you and me. I sometimes forget about that, my love and I am sorry.”

You looked down at him and felt your anger, embarrassment and shame slowly fade. You nodded weakly. “My sweet girl” he whispered and held you face in his palms. “I really appreciate that you did this. That you put up with me as well. I know I haven’t been very communicative with you.” You lightly shrugged and he shook his head. “You can´t just let me get away with these things, my love. Please. I know it´s hard for you, but you can hold me accountable for what I´m doing or saying.”

“Okey” you said and breathed in deep. “You´re right. What you said was absolutely uncalled for. It hurt and embarrassed me. I´m not proud of the way I let things go sometimes. It takes an immense amount of effort to even come to the point of wanting to organise and clean stuff.” John stroked his thumbs lovingly over your cheeks. “And I´m sorry about your phone, John. I promise, I´ll help you find it.” He sighed deeply and pulled your head towards him. Hesitating for a moment to see your reaction, you smiled at him and leaned down more to kiss him. A relieved breath escaped his nose when he kissed you back right away. You detached from him again and with pure joy he saw the light back in your eyes.

“Let´s have dinner and then we´ll look for your phone, yeah?” you asked. He nodded immediately and helped you stand again. He pulled you close by the waist and peppered your face with little kisses until you giggled and tried to wriggle out of his hold.

“Can I help?” he asked. You nodded and gestured towards the fridge. “Could you please get the meatballs out?” John nodded and opened the fridge. Stunned, he stood in front of it for a bit too long. You looked over to him questioningly. “John? What is it? The meatballs are right there.”

He nodded slowly and then his shoulders started to shake with laughter. “What?” you asked perplexed.

John, still giggling, closed the fridge with the platter of meatballs in one hand and his work phone in the other. Your eyes went round and a blush crept up your neck and up to your cheeks. “Oh, Jesus…”

Both of you started laughing again and John went over to you and held you in his strong arms until you both stopped, short of breath. He leaned his head against yours and very softly said “I love you so much.”

König

Laughing hysterically at one of Soap´s jokes you clutched König´s arm next to you and buried your head in his shoulder. The latest mission was over and the 141 decided to wind down at one of the local pubs. König had asked you to join them and shortly after you walked into the pub and jumped into your lovers arms without hesitation. He lifted you up and swung you from side to side before holding your face gently and kissing you long and hard. The whoops and hollers from Gaz and Johnny were ignored by the two of you. You were just happy to be with each other again.

Your happiness bubbled through every pore in your body, the alcohol in your system making you relaxed and buzzing. You´d bantered with Soap the whole evening. The music and over all volume of the pub forced you to raise your voice once in a while. No one seemed to care though.

With a light kiss to König´s cheek you excused yourself to the bathroom and stumbled over to the little door. König watched your with fond eyes, his heart swelling by the minute. Soaps elbow connecting with his ribs and he gave him a sly wink. “So, when´re you goin´ to ask the lass ta marry your arse?” he asked. König´s face lit up immediately. He grinned shily. “I do have the ring already but…I´m really not sure when I should ask.” Johnny nodded. “Best not wait too long my friend” he said wisely. “Yer not the only one noticin´ her. She surely knows how to present herself.” He winked at König.

König´s eyes had a soft look in them. “Yeah, I know.” He said and sighed deeply. “She´s a LOT!”

Just as he said it, he felt your presence next to him and smiled up at you. Said smile vanished immediately when he saw the hurt on your face. He was a bit bewildered as to why you looked at him like her whole world just collapsed. Without saying anything you turned around and stormed towards the doors. “___!” he yelled and scrambled from his seat in the booth going after you.

Outside he looked left and right quickly and spotted you walking briskly away from the venue to his right. He started running and thanks to his long legs it didn’t take him much time to catch up with you. The moment he reached out for your arm and you whipped around shaking it off, his heart broke into a million pieces. Tears were streaming down your face and deep, deep hurt was still edged onto your features. “Liebling, what-?” “I´m a lot, huh? König, do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? You making fun of me in front of our friends?” You hiccupped and wiped your face with your sleeve.

König´s heart began to hammer in his chest. “Making fun of you? I didn´t. How could I make fun of you?” He started hyperventilating a little when you flinched away from his touch yet again. “What´d I do?” he asked in a panicked voice. You huffed disbelievingly. “You said I was a lot to handle, König. That´s so…rude. You know I can´t control how loud I am sometimes.” König´s eyes went wide.

“A lot to handle….” He whispered desperately. “No. No, Liebling, that´s not what I meant at all!” You gave him a questioning look. “I´d never say something like that about you.”

“Then what did you mean? König, saying someone is a lot, is quite-“

“A lot of perfect!! You´re…you´re perfect” he almost yelled at you, desperate to bring his point across. “I sometimes don’t really know the words to express what I´m trying to say but, mein Schatz….I´d never willingly hurt you or try to put you down like that.”

A feeling of shame overcame you. Here was this wonderful, soft man just trying to get through the day as best he can. You should´ve considered that English wasn’t his first language.

“König” you said breathily and reached out your hand which he immediately took. “I´m sorry. I should´ve talked to you first but…you know, being a bother or too much….it´s just one of the things that make me very insecure.” König lifted your hand to his lips immediately and you could have cried again by the way he so gently kissed your knuckles.

“You´re not too loud, or too talkative, or too forward. You´re too much…you! Sometimes I don´t know how to tell people that I would literally kill for you. That I would do anything to make you happy!”

Your arms wined themselves around his neck as you pulled him down for a passionate kiss. “I love you, König” you said against his mouth. “I´m sorry I stormed out like that.” He shook his head and brushed his nose with yours. “I love you too, my love. So much.” You grinned and hugged him again, having to stand on your tiptoes to do so. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Will you come back inside? The evening is still young” he asked. You nodded immediately and took his large hand in yours.

König´s heart raced and he knew exactly what to do to erase every single doubt from your mind. As he guided you back to the pub, his other hand that wasn´t holding yours gently thumbed at the locket around his neck, containing the ring he wanted to give you since day one.

_________________________________________

Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know in the comments what you think about this take. A like and reblog is of course always appreciated <3

Love you and stay safe!

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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

Text

It’s You I Like

Vash/Reader, songfic, 1500+ words I don’t normally write Isekai stuff for Vash but this was too good an opportunity to pass up, and I ended up liking it a lot so maybe I’ll do more little drabbles with this specific isekai!reader

"Well, at least we managed to stock up on everything before we left."

“...”

“You said the next town was, what? About forty iles? Doubt we’ll make that tonight, but it’s not too bad considering.”

“...”

“So I can set up the sleeping bags if you want to get a fire going, how ‘bout that Vash? …Vash?”

“...Hm? Oh. Oh! Y-Yeah, no problem… Here, here’s this.” Even though Vash responded to you, his gaze hadn’t yet left the direction the two of you had just come from as his bag thumped into the sand next to you. Or rather, not so much came from as fled from. You were just about to make yourselves comfortable at the local inn for the evening when someone managed to recognize your red-coated traveling companion, and it wasn’t long before the entire town was hot on your tail. Miraculously, somehow, the two of you managed to escape the hailstorm of bullets completely unscathed and with all your meager travel gear intact, but now you found yourself far past the outskirts of the town and left to your own devices in the barren wasteland.

Not like you had any room to complain though. Considering your sudden and unorthodox appearance in one of your favorite series, you'd much rather cling to the familiar presence of Vash the Stampede than risk your luck bumming around any other town on this desolate rock. How fortunate were you to not only find the spiky protagonist, but also to have him listen to and believe your wildly unbelievable tale of woe. Mentioning the SEEDS ships helped, you supposed. Now wherever Vash went you had no choice but to follow.

Again, though. Definitely not a complaint.

Vash was still quiet as the two of you cobbled together your camping site at the base of a large outcropping rock. There was a small smile on his face, framed by the fire's amber glow. But even without having read the manga and watched the anime you could tell it wasn't a real one. It didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You were probably looking forward to an actual bed tonight, huh?" He joked, gaze never leaving the small fire. "Welcome to the life of an outlaw! I assure you, it's always this glamorous."

"It's no big deal! Camping's not bad either, at least when you have the sleeping bags."

He didn't look convinced by your words, but he nodded anyway, an uncomfortable silence falling between the two of you. You kicked your boots off and pulled your knees to your chest on top of your sleeping bag, watching the fire crackle.

"...Is it hard?"

"Hm?" When you glanced over to Vash he was finally looking your way, elbow propped up on his knee and his cheek resting in his palm. Despite the casual pose there was a melancholy behind his eyes, a deep remorse. "Is what?"

"Running around like this. I doubt you're used to it."

"It's… Well I won't lie to you, it isn't easy." Vash barked out a laugh at your brutally honest response. You pushed forward, unabated. "But honestly? I'm probably safer with you than I am anywhere else on this planet. I don't know any people, any places… The only thing I really know is you." A prickling heat began to crawl up the back of your neck at your openness, and you rested the side of your head down on your knees as if it would deter the sudden fluster. "I'm really lucky you found me."

That seemed to catch Vash off-guard, as he began to awkwardly fiddle with his cybernetic hand as his gaze flitted around. "That's, uh, I mean… you've got a pretty skewed idea of luck, I think. Heh…"

There was an awkwardness that fell in the next extended silence too, but it wasn't quite the same. It was a little softer around the edges, more vulnerable. Off to your side you could hear the soft clinking of Vash disassembling and cleaning his gun, bits and pieces placed carefully across his sleeping bag to make sure nothing was lost in the shuffle. As you stretched your legs out in front of you in a v-shape, you hummed softly to yourself as you watched the embers stir and crumble into the sand.

"What song is that?" You glanced at Vash, biting back a chuckle at his furrowed expression, tongue peeking from his teeth as he stared down the empty chambers of his revolver with a cleaning pick and a look of intense focus.

"It's a children's song from home. It's from an old TV show, I think." You hummed the first line a little louder, just enough so Vash could hear the melody over the fire's crackle. You doubted he even knew what a "TV show" was, but he didn't seem too fazed by it.

"Do you like to sing?"

"I like it. I'm average, I think, but I always have fun when I'm singing." Out of the corner of your eye you could see Vash looking at you again. "Oh, absolutely not. Not gonna happen."

"Hey, I didn't even say anything!"

"You didn't have to! I could tell by your face! I'm not gonna sing, it's embarrassing."

"No it's not! Besides, you said you like it. And it's a song from Earth, too! I wanna hear it." He probably didn't even realize it, but he was flashing you those big, sad puppy-dog eyes that he didn't yet know you couldn't resist. You let out a small, irritated whine, hand finding the back of your neck and resting on the flushed skin there as you drew your gaze back to the crackling fire.

"...Fine. Just this once. And don't… Don't say anything weird."

"You got it!" You could see him salute out of the corner of your eye, and couldn't help the quiet snort of laughter that came from you in response. Dork. The quiet click-clack of him beginning to reassemble his firearm returned, so now was as good a time as ever, you supposed.

"It's you, I like."

There was a sharp tink! of Vash fumbling part of the barrel and it clattering down into the remaining pile of gun parts, but you were far too self-conscious to glance over and gauge his expression.

"It's not the things you wear. It's not the way you do your hair, but it's you I like."

You could feel him staring, but you kept your eyes locked on the low, rolling flames.

"The way you are right now, the way down deep inside you. Not the things that hide you…"

Stretching your foot out just a bit, you tapped next to the pile of gun parts sorted neatly on his sleeping bag.

"...Not your toys, they're just beside you."

He chuckled, so quietly that he probably didn't expect you to hear it. But you did, and it made your face positively burn.

"But it's you, I like. Every part of you. Your skin, your eyes, your feelings, whether old or new."

You couldn't ignore Vash's continuous shifting around any longer, flicking your gaze over to him. He'd turned himself completely to face you, cross-legged, chin perched in his palm, a look in his eyes so soft it made your heart feel like it was thundering right up against your ribcage. Your voice wavered for just a note, but you pushed forward.

"I hope that you remember, even when you're feeling blue."

Blue, so blue, his deep cyan eyes finding yours and not flitting away, watching you so gently, yet so intently. Despite your embarrassment, you couldn't find it in yourself to look away either.

"That it's you, I like. You yourself, it's you…"

He seemed to lean in at your every word, like a sailor to a siren. You hardly found your singing to be enough to hypnotize like mermaids in old fairy tales, and yet here he was.

"It's you, I like."

With your song ended, the silence that stretched between you was only interspersed by the soft crackle of the fire. A sharp humiliation suddenly rushed through you, face burning hot at your own vulnerability. Seeming to blink his way out of a trance, Vash began to speak.

"That was-"

"GOODNIGHT VASH!" You yelped, quickly rolling over and burying yourself in your sleeping bag facing away from him, the edge of the fabric pulled all the way up to your nose. He didn't push, letting you curl up and wallow in your own embarrassment, the clicking of his continued gun reassembly peppering the background silence.

And then he began to hum. Quietly, carefully, he felt out the unfamiliar melody.

"It's you, I like."

You could hear the smile in his voice.

"It's not the things you wear."

Warmth blossomed in the pit of your chest, curling up around your heart and settling fluffy and light. He was a good singer as well, his lack of familiarity with the song the only thing slowing him down. But he continued, metal bits and parts snapping together under careful hands as he sang your song.

"It's not the way you do your hair…"

Eyelids dipping heavily, you let them slide shut, Vash's voice filling the empty wasteland and pooling low and sweet in your tired mind.

As sleep began to fog at the corners of your mind, you were completely oblivious to Vash's fond gaze upon your bundled-up form as you began to drift into unconsciousness.

"...but it's you, I like."

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun imagines #trigun x reader #my writing

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cloverstellar · 27 days

Text

okay I’m just gonna make a post about it bc it’s getting to be a bit overwhelming and I know all the jokes about me liking feet or being british or being homophobic or being a horrible cook or how you all will make me gay are really funny and I’m glad to be interacting with everyone but I kinda want to take a step back from them for a bit. I know I enable the bits a lot by actively participating in them but lately they’ve gone a bit too far and almost don’t feel like jokes anymore bc I’ve been getting really passive aggressive and frankly just downright weird anonymous asks, dm’s, and reblogs from people I don’t know and the stuff that they say make me wildly uncomfortable. I’m not mad I just want to stop with the jokes for a bit so it can all calm down and I won’t get more shit from them 💞 ily all

#rose talks #ok to rb

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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months

Note

Hey! This is Birdie_Castellan from ao3 and I was wondering if, for the requests, you could maybe do a sort of 5+1 trope (you can adjust the numbers as you please though) of like 5 times Gareth or Robin or someone in the party thought Steve and Eddie are acting weird, plus one time they're not or something?

Okay, I'll admit getting started on this was hard. I didn't know what angle I wanted to go with here, but then once I got started, it poured out of me. I love the idea that these idiots really tried to hide their relationship like they aren't so obviously in love. I also love that everyone is so oblivious that it takes them months to figure it out. - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------

Robin

Steve was running late to pick Robin up for their shift.

Honestly, she didn’t even really care that much about being late. Even if it was the second time this week.

She cared because he was being weird about why he was running late. For the second time this week.

At least he’d called this time. He hadn’t remembered to on Tuesday, so she just had to sit on her doorstep and hope he showed up eventually.

He was on his way now, so they’d only be a few minutes late, but Keith would surely ream them out for it. Any charms she could use to get Keith on her side before had long evaporated like smoke; he’d caught onto her not actually being interested in him and now she was no better than Steve.

Just when she was getting ready to wait inside, Steve’s car pulled into the driveway.

“Thank god,” she huffed as she stalked over.

She opened the passenger door and was met with-

“Eddie?”

“Hey Robbie,” he said with a wave, fingers fluttering.

“Okay, one: you’re in my seat. Two: why are you in my seat?”

Eddie looked to Steve, then back at Robin before he got out and sat in the back.

Robin got in the seat and shut the door, buckling up.

She turned to Steve, who was pretending to focus on the rear view mirror as he backed out of the driveway.

“Why is Eddie here?”

“Van broke down,” Eddie said.

“We were just hanging out,” Steve said at the same time.

Robin looked at Steve, who gritted his teeth and gripped the steering wheel harder, and then back at Eddie, who looked like he was going to jump out of the barely moving car.

“Uh huh. And Eddie’s coming to work with us…why?”

“Lost track of time,” Steve sounded like he hadn’t thought about the fact that Robin would ask some questions when they arrived.

And it’s not like she was oblivious to the fact that Eddie and Steve hung out, she just didn’t realize it was often alone.

Unsupervised.

No kids around to interrupt anything.

But no, Steve would’ve told her if they were…doing anything.

Right?

She chose to move on for now, the tension in the car far too uncomfortable for her.

Keith was only a little bit of an asshole, more concerned about leaving than yelling at them.

Robin immediately started helping customers while Steve restocked movies, Eddie trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

Robin watched out of the corner of her eye, and when the customers left, she turned and put all her attention on what Steve and Eddie were doing.

Eddie was leaning against the shelf, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke about something while Steve smiled to himself as he put movies away.

Robin couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

From where she stood, which may have been too far to really tell, it looked like Steve Harrington might have a crush.

————————

Jonathan and Argyle

“Wasn’t Eddie supposed to meet us here already?” Jonathan was pacing, wearing a path into the ground as he kicked more leaves out of the way.

“Dude, relax. Time isn’t real,” Argyle responded, eyes closed as he laid back on the picnic table.

“Something might be wrong, though.”

“Sorry I’m late!” Eddie proclaimed from the trees.

But he wasn’t alone.

Jonathan squinted through the dark and saw Steve following close behind him, hair mussed up and dirt stains on his knees.

“Did you guys run into someone or something?”

“Told you everything was fine,” Argyle finally sat up and greeted them. “You know we can meet at Jonathan’s house next time. Ms. Byers totally took a hit off my last roll and loved it so I think she’s comin’ around, man.”

Steve looked flushed, like he’d been running.

Eddie was barely out of breath.

“Steve, you okay?” Jonathan asked, continuing to suspiciously look over a perfectly calm Eddie.

“Yep! Just wasn’t expecting to walk this far.”

“Okay…”

Eddie pulled a bag out of his vest pocket and handed it to Jonathan.

“Threw in some extra when I knew we’d be late. Sorry man.”

“No worries. How much?”

“$20. Or $30 if you want me to roll it for you,” Eddie normally charged $30 for what he was giving Jonathan plus $20 more to roll it, but since it was Jonathan, he was willing to give him a pretty decent discount.

Him and Argyle were his best customers.

They exchanged money and goods, all while Steve leaned against a tree, seeming dazed.

“Okay, seriously, did you get another concussion Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Steve’s just high. We tried out a new strain and it hit him harder than we thought it would,” Eddie supplied quickly.

It sounded like a lie, but it did seem possible.

And it explained why they were late.

“Same time next week?” Eddie asked, making his way back to Steve.

“Yeah, but let’s just meet at your trailer or something.”

“Sure. Wayne will be at work anyway.”

As they went their separate ways, Jonathan watched the way Eddie slipped a hand around Steve’s waist, guiding him back through the trees.

He could hear him mumbling, but couldn’t hear anything except “so good” and “reward.”

“I didn’t know the babysitter and Batman 2.0 were dating,” Argyle said from behind him, making him jump.

“What? They’re not. Steve’s super straight.”

“Uh. I don’t think so.”

Jonathan looked at Argyle, then back at the retreating figures of Eddie and Steve.

“Alright, man. Guess we’ll find out eventually.”

——————————

Hopper

He was bored. And tired. And sick of having to do bullshit coverage shifts.

He was the Chief, dammit.

He’d been through all this shit already.

But he knew the only way anyone would take him seriously was if he still did the occasional patrol shifts.

He’s already done a loop, surprised to find that absolutely no one was on the roads. It was late, but not so late that he hadn’t expected at least a few people to pass by.

On his second loop, he slowed down when he saw a van parked at Lover’s Lake.

Eddie’s van.

Eddie who was supposed to be laying low.

Sure, he’d been officially cleared for months, but the town still had their doubts.

Being out at 11 at night wasn’t exactly laying low.

Hopper sighed as he parked and got out of his patrol car, not wanting to startle him with the lights or sirens.

The kid could just be trying to get out of the house.

But as he got closer, he could hear low moans.

“Dammit, Eddie,” Hopper said to himself before banging on the back door of the van.

The moaning abruptly stopped and he heard some mumbled cursing and watched the van shake for a moment before the back door opened.

Eddie looked disheveled, which was what Hopper had been expecting.

What he wasn’t expecting was an equally disheveled Steve Harrington.

It was pretty rare that he was shocked into silence these days, but when he opened his mouth to give a warning, nothing came out.

It became clear pretty quickly that Steve was hoping he wouldn’t be seen as he pulled a blanket over himself while Eddie got out of the van and closed the door.

“Uh, was that…”

“Nope. Just me.”

Hopper’s eyes squinted suspiciously.

“Just you?”

“Yep. Had to get out of the trailer. Wayne’s been off all week and the walls are thin. Desperate times, ya know?”

Eddie was good, he’d always been good at convincing people what he was saying was true.

He probably convinced himself what he was saying was true.

And Hopper learned long ago to pick his battles, especially with teens and young adults like Eddie.

He wasn’t hurting anybody, no one else was around, he technically couldn’t even prove he was doing anything illegal at all, so he just nodded.

“Right. Well, this is just a warning for you to take you and your hand back home so I don’t have to get you on public indecency. Got it?”

“Sure thing, Chief!” Eddie saluted obnoxiously.

He made his way to the front of his van, hopping in and starting it up quickly.

“I don’t get paid enough,” Hopper said as he walked back to his car.

When Eddie’s van passed by him, he saw Steve sitting in the passenger seat, blanket curled around him and eyes closed like he was asleep.

Whatever.

Hopper didn’t need to know, want to know, or care to know.

————————

Max

Max may be blind, but she wasn’t blind.

It was easy to see what was going on with Steve and Eddie.

They were clingy, but in weird ways. They didn’t hang all over each other, they clearly were trying to hide their relationship from everyone.

What they did was orbit each other.

Max couldn’t see, but she could tell.

Anytime Eddie spoke, Steve spoke from somewhere nearby. Anytime Eddie sat down next to Max, Steve would sit on her other side. When Steve would excuse himself, Eddie wouldn’t be far behind.

She was pretty sure none of the others noticed, or if they did, they didn’t say anything.

But she finally had to when she was sitting on Eddie’s porch one afternoon, trying to feel her way through a G chord. She heard Steve’s car pull up, his feet on the steps.

“Hey, Max, Eds,” Steve said fondly.

She could hear in her voice that he was looking at them like he did when he was overwhelmed with love.

It was gross.

“Hey, swee-Stevie. Off work early?” Eddie asked.

Max heard Steve take a seat on the same step Eddie was sitting on, but didn’t hear anything else.

At least they were smart enough not to kiss or something. She’d hear that for sure.

“Just a little. Keith didn’t want me getting overtime this week. You giving Max a lesson so she can be the next big rockstar?”

Max let out a laugh.

“Well, he’s making sure I’m not useless with a guitar, but I’m far from rockstar material,” Max said as she started strumming again.

It was quiet for a few minutes, but she knew they were still there watching her.

She finally gave up for the day, her frustration level much too high to properly attempt a new chord right now.

“Alright, someone walk me home so I don’t have to interrupt your date or whatever,” she said as she got up.

Steve choked on nothing as Eddie started immediately trying to argue.

“What? This isn’t a date! Steve just had to come by and pick something up.”

“Are you the something he has to pick up?” Max knew she was pushing, but they were just acting so fucking weird lately and she wanted answers.

“No!”

“Whatever. Can someone walk me home?”

She heard Steve shift his weight on the porch step, then footsteps as he got down.

“Sure thing. Need my arm or just wanna walk next to me?”

“Next to you.”

She got off the step, held the guitar out for Eddie to take, and started walking.

When they got to the gravel road, Steve cleared his throat.

“It’s um. Like it’s really. Um.”

“Don’t hurt yourself Steve. It’s fine. Probably good that you found someone, right?”

She didn’t need any vision to know that Steve was probably bright red.

“Uh huh. Yep.”

They got to her house quickly and he helped her up the steps.

“Need anything before I go?” Steve asked, like always.

“Need you to leave me alone,” Max replied, like always.

“You know where I’ll be if that changes,” she could hear the smile in his voice as he walked back down the steps.

She went inside and thought about how long this had been going on.

Months, really, though they may actually not have noticed or been together at first. They were both idiots in their own ways and they seemed like the type to be stupid with feelings.

But whatever was going on now seemed to keep them happy, and if that meant dealing with their weirdness, Max was secretly happy about it.

—————————-

Dustin

Steve was always at Hellfire now.

And, like, it was cool. It was fine. Dustin liked that he showed an interest now, the rest of the party did, too.

But he was a distraction.

Eddie was the best DM besides Will that Dustin had ever seen, but when Steve started coming to watch, it was like ants had started picking pieces of his brain away to build their homes.

Seriously, he got more stupid by the minute.

And Eddie wasn’t stupid, is the thing.

Whether it was D&D or real life shit or even some subjects in school, he was brilliant.

But if Steve was around, his brain left the building.

Tonight was maybe the worst.

They were on their second to last night for this campaign (hopefully) and Steve had shown up about halfway through.

He’d been a little bitchy, even towards Eddie, and had been sitting on the couch drinking water and rubbing his eyes and neck every few minutes.

Eddie kept glancing over at him, stopping mid-sentence and getting completely distracted.

Everyone was getting annoyed and he knew Erica was one more distraction away from calling him out.

As annoyed as Dustin was, he didn’t want that to happen.

Instead, when he saw Eddie’s eyes drifting over to Steve again, he kicked his shin and widened his eyes at him.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“What do you mean, what the hell? You just kicked me?” Eddie whispered angrily.

“You keep looking at Steve and getting lost. Erica’s about to lose her shit,” Dustin whispered back.

“No I don’t,” Eddie said, looking back at the papers in front of him.

“Dude.”

Dustin looked over at Steve, watching as he winced and started rubbing his forehead.

Shit. He had a migraine.

Why did he even come here if he had a migraine?

He knows how loud they can be.

He knows Eddie would take them all home.

Unless…

No. No way.

Dustin was oblivious about this stuff sometimes, but he would know if Steve and Eddie were, like, a thing. Right?

Eddie continued on, but his leg started bouncing anxiously when Steve got up to go to the bathroom.

He was gone for three minutes before Eddie called a break and booked it towards the bathroom.

No one paid much attention except for him, so he walked down the hall and stopped outside the bathroom door.

“You should’ve called me, I would’ve come to you,” Eddie’s voice said quietly.

“Just wanted to see you,” Steve replied, his voice raspy and wet, like he’d been crying.

Dustin resisted the urge to open the door, wanted to see what else they would say first.

“Stevie…”

“After Hellfire can you play with my hair?”

Dustin’s jaw dropped.

That…could be friendly…maybe.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?

Dustin’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as he realized what was going on.

He walked back to the table, his world spinning at the realization that Steve and Eddie were together and probably had been for a while.

———————————

Everyone

Wayne Munson usually spent his birthday working or with Eddie, but not this year.

He’d been adopted into this little family of misfits and freaks, and he was damn pleased about it.

Joyce had insisted on throwing him a party at her house, everyone was bringing something, and he could invite anyone else he wanted there, too.

Wayne didn’t really have friends. Sure, he went fishing with a couple guys from work every month, but that was more for the fishing than the bonding with people.

So he showed up with Eddie, ten minutes late because Eddie had forgotten to wrap his present until they were about to walk out the door.

Hugs were passed around, Hopper even giving him an awkward one-armed side hug.

Steve and his friend Robin showed up a few minutes later, still in their work uniforms and looking a bit tired. He hugged them both and thanked them for coming by.

It was fun, if a little overwhelming being around all these people as they ate and sang him happy birthday.

He was surprised to see that everyone got him presents.

Look, Wayne was a simple man. He had everything he needed, anything else was just extra.

But he felt loved as he opened gift after gift, small tokens of love from these kids and adults who knew him just enough to know what he’d appreciate.

Mostly mugs and hats, one pair of work boots from Hopper, who insisted they were the best brand he’d ever had.

Eddie handed over a small package, and Steve stood next to him, huge smiles on both their faces.

“This is from me and Steve. Hope you like it.”

Wayne ignored the fact that this was a joint gift, already promising himself he wouldn’t bring up whatever weird thing was going on between his nephew and the Harrington boy this morning.

He started to open it and looked up confused when it was just a handwritten note and a ticket.

“What’s this?”

“Read it!” Eddie bounced up and down.

Steve placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him, but smiled at him fondly.

Hm.

So Wayne read.

Wayne,

A couple months ago, you mentioned that you hadn’t been to the mountains in almost 20 years and you missed the fishing there. I know I was a lot of the reason you haven’t been, and I’m not gonna apologize, because you won’t let me, but I will say thank you.

Thank you for putting me first for so long. Thank you for giving me everything I needed and working so hard to make sure I wasn’t like my dad. No amount of thank yous could be enough, but I hope this helps.

Enjoy your trip, old man. Love, Eddie

P.S. Steve did most of the work on this so if it’s terrible, it’s his fault.

Wayne moved the letter out of the way and looked at the ticket.

A train ticket to the Smoky Mountains. Another paper was folded up behind that showing his cabin reservations on a lake.

Wayne felt tears spring to his eyes as he looked up at Eddie, who was holding Steve’s hand.

“You boys did this?”

They nodded.

“C’mere,” Wayne gestured for both of them to come closer, and he quickly pulled them both into a hug.

But it was interrupted by Mike, the Wheeler with an attitude, only a few seconds later.

“Are we not talking about how they got him a gift together and are holding hands?”

The party went quiet and Wayne felt Steve and Eddie go tense in his arms.

“It’s alright, boys. You don’t owe an explanation to no one,” Wayne whispered to them before pulling away.

But they kept holding hands, and when they looked at each other, Wayne knew they weren’t gonna run.

“It’s Wayne’s day, but, I guess we should just go ahead and tell you all,” Eddie started.

“We’ve been dating for a while, and it’s pretty serious, so we planned to tell everyone at the next family dinner,” Steve rushed out.

Eddie must have sensed his nerves, pulled his hand out of Steve’s and wrapped his arm around his waist.

“How long is a while?” Dustin asked.

“About four months.”

Everyone was shocked into silence.

But then, one at a time, people started saying “should’ve known” and “that explains so much” and Wayne couldn’t help the smirk on his face.

He’d walked in on Steve curled up against Eddie’s chest on the couch one night about a month ago, snuck in so he wouldn’t interrupt them. At the time, he’d known there was something going on, but figured it wasn’t that serious.

He’d never been happier to be wrong.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #5+1 things #the party #robin buckley #wayne munson #fluffy

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phillippadgettwrites · 4 months

Note

Could you write a pre x-files hook up please? 🙈

December 31, 1984

Rated X / 3599 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

December 31, 1984

College Park, MD

10:38 pm

The air is so thick with cigarette smoke and Drakkar Noir that it’s starting to give Mulder a headache. Or perhaps his headache is from the blare of highly synthesized music pounding against his eardrums, though at least the music serves to drown out his miserable thoughts. He swallows the last of his beer, wincing at how warm and sour it’s become as he nursed it over the course of at least ninety minutes.

“You wanna another?” Adam slurs from beside him.

Mulder turns to look at his friend, who is red-faced and glassy-eyed. He’s never understood how people can drink so heavily night after night and still manage to function, though he supposes that Adam might have lower standards of living than he does.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, leaning back and slinging his arm across the top of the cushioned bench on which he and Adam are seated.

He surveys the room, which is packed shoulder-to-shoulder with sweaty twentysomethings in various stages of carnal pursuit. In a corner near the bathrooms, he spots a woman with her skirt hiked up around her hips and a man in a cheap flashy suit unmistakably working his dick through his open zipper in preparation to fuck her. Mulder looks away instinctively, but within seconds his eyes wander back over to them. They can’t reasonably be expecting privacy, can they? The man steps up close and bends his knees a little, and Mulder watches the woman’s face raptly as her mouth falls open before her eyes roll back in her head. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat as his cock stirs, threatening an unwelcome erection.

“Betcha don’t see that at Oxford,” Adam says loudly, jabbing Mulder in the ribs with his elbow.

Mulder follows his line of sight to the very same couple he’d been watching. The woman now has her legs wrapped around the man’s hips and her arms around his neck, and he’s slamming into her sharply over and over.

“No, can’t say that I do,” Mulder says dryly.

Truthfully, he’d rather be back at Oxford than here in this smoky club with a childhood friend he now wonders what he ever had in common with. The invitation to spend Christmas break on Adam’s couch instead of on the Vineyard making awkward conversation with his mother sounded too good to be true, and so far it’s been exactly that. He feels lonely and homesick, and wildly out of place.

“Fuck, I need to get some of that,” Adam says, openly gawking at the live pornography occurring in the corner of the room.

“Well, the night is young,” Mulder says encouragingly, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “But I think you’re going to have to actually talk to someone if you want to be getting laid by midnight.”

Adam heaves a blustering sigh.

“You’re right. I’m gonna go find my girl,” he says with a cheesy but hopeful smile.

Adam disappears into the sea of bodies and Mulder heads for the bar. It’s so crowded he has to elbow his way to the rail, then squeeze in sideways behind a man in a Thriller-esque red leather jacket.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asks brusquely, barely looking at him.

“Just water, please.”

The bartender makes a disapproving face before pouring a half-full glass of tepid water, no ice, and pushing it unceremoniously across the counter at him.

“Thanks a lot,” Mulder says under his breath, but the bartender has already moved on.

He sips at his water and tunes into the conversations occurring around him. Women laugh at decidedly unfunny jokes while men talk up their expensive degrees and trust funds, and Mulder shakes his head at how performative it all is.

“My DeLorean is right outside, you know,” Red Leather Jacket is saying. “We could get outta here.”

“No thank you,” says a female voice from beside him.

“Awe, come on! I bet you’ve never seen gull-wing doors on a car before, have you?” Red Leather says insistently.

“I don’t think my boyfriend would approve,” the woman says. “In fact, I bet he’s looking for me.”

“Now you’re making up a boyfriend?” Red Leather scoffs.

Mulder leans back and peeks around Red Leather Jacket’s shoulder to see the woman he’s addressing. She’s petite and looks quite young, though her sequined blue minidress and heavy makeup are a clear attempt to appear older. Her cinnamon hair is piled up on top of her head, and she’s nervously chewing on the straw in her glass as Red Leather Jacket berates her. Mulder gets the impression that this has been going on since long before he showed up.

“I’m not making anything up,” she insists, but it’s as clear to Mulder as it is to Red Leather Jacket that she’s lying.

“Listen, I get it,” Red Leather says to her, leaning in. “You don’t want me to think you’re easy. I’m willing to work for it, sweetheart.” He reaches out and lays his massive hand on her tiny shoulder, and the woman visibly recoils.

Mulder takes two steps into the crowd and then turns back, forcing his way into the space beside the woman. When he reaches her, he slides his arm across the tops of her shoulders, knocking Red Leather’s hand away. The woman looks up at him sharply, and is opening her mouth to speak when he interrupts her.

“Hey honey, I’ve been looking all over for you,” he says warmly, leaning down to drop a kiss to her cheek. She’s short as shit and she smells amazing, and when a confused smile blooms on her pouty mouth his heart skips two beats.

“I thought you might be,” she says, catching on and threading her arm around his waist.

Red Leather Jacket gapes at them for a beat, then turns on his heel and bulldozes his way through the crowd angrily. Mulder watches him go, his arm still around the woman’s shoulders and hers still around his waist.

“Thank you,” the woman says, withdrawing her arm.

Mulder follows suit reluctantly, stepping away from her and into the space vacated by Red Leather Jacket.

“Happy to help,” he says lightly. “Didn’t seem like he was going to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“No, it didn’t,” the woman says sadly, her eyes on the bartop.

“I’m Fox, by the way,” he says, offering his hand.

She lifts her eyes, which are incredibly blue, and looks him over dubiously before slipping her slender hand into his. Her palm is smooth and cold from her glass, and a little shiver runs up his spine.

“Dana,” she says.

“Dana,” he repeats, testing out the weight of it on his tongue. Under the flashing lights he can see freckles on the bridge of her nose, and there’s something both incredibly youthful and incredibly sage about her. “I hope you don’t take offense to this, but are you…allowed to be in here?” he asks with a little cringe.

She blinks at him, her expression unreadable.

“I’m in here, aren’t I?” she finally says, quite haughtily, and he’s immediately smitten.

“That you are,” he agrees. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Dana pivots her body away from the bar and towards him, which his behaviorist’s mind picks up on as a good sign. She tilts her face up and considers him openly, not at all disguising her skepticism.

“That depends,” she says. “Does the drink come with strings attached? Explicit or otherwise?”

Mulder feels his cheeks warm.

“No, not at all,” he says emphatically. “I mean, I was hoping for a conversation, but it’s not requisite. You can take the drink to go if you want.”

A tiny sliver of a smile teases one corner of her mouth, and she looks away.

“Okay then,” she says. “Gin and tonic.”

“I have something to confess,” she shouts loudly in his ear to be heard over the music. Her tongue is thick in her mouth, adding emphasis to her already sibilant S’s.

“I won’t tell anybody,” Mulder shouts back, equally inebriated.

They’ve migrated to a table and she’s sitting so close to him she’s practically in his lap, which he keeps telling himself it’s just because the music is so loud and not because she’s interested in him. He also keeps reminding himself that she lives over 3,000 miles away and he’ll likely never see her again. Dana. Navy brat. Pre-med. Five feet and three inches of sass and intellect. He’s known her for a little over an hour and it feels like a year. He even met her sister, for Christ’s sake.

“I’m not actually allowed to be in here,” she tells him, her lips grazing the shell of his ear and her hot breath sending shockwaves straight to his groin.

His stomach drops out a little. Not that he’s done anything untoward beyond buying her alcohol, but he’s certainly had a series of indecent thoughts about her that he wouldn’t have indulged in had he known she was underage.

She leans away and, seeing the look on his face, grabs his forearm and smiles a megawatt, dazzling smile.

“My twenty-first birthday is in less than two months,” she explains, and he blows out a stream of air through pursed lips.

“You scared me for a second there,” he says, noting that her hand is still on his arm.

“Why, were you hoping to take me home?” she asks.

He slowly lifts his eyes to hers. She’s smiling, though not in a way that makes him think the question was meant to be taken as a joke. Perhaps she was testing the waters to see how he’d react.

“No,” he says, and a flash of embarrassment crosses her face. “But only because I’m crashing on my buddy’s couch, so I don’t really have a home to take you to.”

She laughs loudly, and his heart clutches.

TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX!

They both startle and look around as the entire room begins to shout in unison.

FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!

They’ve been so engrossed in conversation he hadn’t even realized it was almost midnight.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Her mouth is a hot, wet surprise. Her tongue, her teeth, the evergreen bite of gin on her breath, her hands possessively cupping his jaw. He’s startled, and then delighted, and then enamored because she kisses like it’s the main event. They keep kissing long after the rest of the room has moved on, long enough that his hands are drifting up her pantyhose-covered thighs and under the hem of her dress, and he’s no longer trying to hide the erection tenting the front of his slacks.

Dana pulls away from him abruptly and his mouth hangs open, stupefied. Her lipstick is smeared all around her mouth and her pupils are wide and dark.

“My apartment is a five minute walk from here and my roommate went home for break,” she says breathlessly, and Mulder nods.

The walk is actually only three minutes if you’re drunk, horny, and highly motivated. By the fifth minute he’s already inside her living room, scraping his arms to shit on her sequined dress as he wrestles it off her. Pantyhose, bra, some seriously sexy little black panties that he might take more time to appreciate were his balls not about to explode. All are tossed to the floor en route to her bedroom, and his cock is in her mouth shortly thereafter.

Thank god he’s drunk. Thank god, because her mouth is like a siphon and she keeps looking up at him, those brilliant blue eyes so full of lust he wishes he could come twice. She doesn’t seem inclined to stop, so he finally begs for mercy and asks if he can return the favor. She’s reluctant, bashful all of a sudden, and he doesn’t push. Instead he slips his hand between her thighs and audibly groans at how wet she is.

“Is this okay?” he asks, teasing the pad of his middle finger around her opening. He feels her flutter against him and she lets out a ragged sigh.

“Okay,” she says breathily, momentarily confusing him. “You can if you want. But you don’t have to.”

Approximately three minutes later she’s coming in his mouth, her fingers twisted up so tightly in his hair it actually hurts.

“Oh god, oh god,” she keeps saying over and over, and he’s so pleased with himself he smiles right against her cunt.

He isn’t expecting to get laid. This is partly because he doesn’t get the sense that she has a lot of casual sex, and partly because of the way her eyes widened when she pulled his cock out of his slacks—not impressed, but intimidated. He can’t blame her; she’s probably ninety-five pounds soaking wet and he’s aware that he’s well above average. If she’s courteous enough to finish him off with a handjob, he’ll consider himself one lucky S.O.B.

His chin is still wet from her slippery cunt when she pushes his shoulder back and climbs on top of him. She’s surprisingly strong, as small as she is, and there’s a condom in her hand that he doesn’t remember her retrieving. She sits proudly in his lap, his cock standing at attention in front of the patch of ginger curls between her legs, and casts him a drunkenly nervous glance.

“I’ve never—” she starts, and he feels a flash of adrenaline.

“We don’t have to,” he interjects, and she quirks her head at him.

“I’m not a virgin,” she corrects him, clearly mildly offended, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “But I’ve never…I’m honestly not sure it’s gonna fit,” she finally says, deadpan, and he laughs.

“Valid concern,” he says. He reaches up to push her hair behind her ear and she briefly closes her eyes. “Whatever you wanna do, I’m game. You’re the boss.”

She nods, considering him for a moment, and then unwraps the condom.

Even through his drunken haze, he’s touched by how much she seems to trust him. He lies perfectly still, feasting with his eyes as she lifts her hips and reaches between her legs to line him up. Slowly, slowly, slowly she sinks down on him, inch by delicious inch, pausing now and then to kiss him while her body adjusts. Finally, he feels the slight weight of her settle fully against his pelvis, and she sighs contentedly.

“Ta da,” she says in a singsong voice, and he looks up at her sweetly smiling face.

“Congratulations,” he says tightly.

She laughs and her cunt laughs too, quivering around him and making him moan. She leans forward and her entire demeanor shifts, her girlish smile giving way to a decidedly naughty smirk as she draws her hips up a little and then sinks back down.

“Jesus Christ,” Mulder hisses, his hands on her hips and his fingers digging desperately into the flesh there.

“I don’t think he’d approve of this,” Dana says, her voice high and syrupy.

They don’t speak any more after that. The slow rise and fall of her hips steadily increases in pace until she’s slipping haphazardly forward and back, eyes closed, mouth open, eyebrows drawn together in an expression of pure bliss. Mulder tries to think about absolutely anything but the strangling grip she has on him, how wet she is, how tight, how beautiful. He’s not sure if she can come again, not sure if she even wants to, he just knows he doesn’t want this to end.

“Oh, I’m coming,” she says suddenly, seeming surprised, and he is gone before he has a split second to consider otherwise. His shoulders lurch up off the mattress, every muscle in his body contracts, and feeling her coming around him while he is also coming is one of the most intense sexual experiences of his life to date.

She collapses against him, their hammering hearts pounding at each other through their respective rib cages, and he rubs one hand over her back as he fights to stay awake in his drunken, post-orgasmic state.

“That was incredible,” he remembers hearing her mumble, and then nothing.

He wakes up disoriented and with a pounding headache. It’s not that he doesn’t remember it—thankfully, he remembers everything—but that it feels like a dream.

He’s naked, which is to be expected, and the mattress beside him is empty and cold. When he throws back the covers to begin the search for his underwear, he finds that the condom is still snugly wrapped around his flaccid cock, the tip of it heavy with congealing semen. This he finds borderline disgusting, and immediately he wonders if Dana woke to the image of him splayed out naked on her bed with a spent condom hanging off his dick, which makes his cheeks warm with embarrassment. He finds a tissue and removes the offending item, then slowly gets dressed as nausea begins to creep in.

When he opens the bedroom door he finds the apartment quiet, though if he strains his ears he can hear the ruffle of a newspaper. He darts into the bathroom to splash water on his face and use some of her toothpaste as makeshift mouthwash before he finds her in the kitchen.

She’s seated on a stool at the counter, her posture ramrod straight and a pair of gold rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She looks up when she hears his footsteps and he’s struck by how different she looks. There isn’t a stitch of makeup on her face, which is much more freckled than he realized last night at the bar, and her mouth devoid of lipstick is still tantalizingly pink and plump. She has a decidedly “girl next door” quality about her, and a wide grin breaks out over his face.

“Hi,” he says, and she folds up the newspaper and removes her glasses before she replies.

“Good morning,” she says, meeting his eye in short bursts. “There’s coffee, if you’d like some. Mugs are in the cabinet above the pot.”

“Thanks,” he says with a bob of his head, but makes no move to take her up on the offer.

There’s an awkward silence wherein he tries to make eye contact and she diligently avoids it. Eventually she clears her throat and forces herself to look at him.

“I…” she starts, then pauses and runs her tongue across her bottom lip. “I know this sounds cliche, but I feel like I should tell you that I really don’t do…that. Or at least I never have before.”

He understands what she means, but can’t resist the urge to try and get a laugh out of her.

“So you were a virgin, then?” he asks, and she snaps her head up to look at him, her expression of alarm fading into one of feigned irritation when she sees the smile on his face. She rolls her eyes and it feels like a victory.

“I’ve never slept with someone I just met,” she clarifies.

Mulder shrugs.

“Neither have I,” he says.

She narrows her eyes at him skeptically.

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” she asks.

Mulder crosses the rest of the room and perches on the stool beside her.

“I don’t know, why do you?” he asks.

She gives him a long look with her blonde eyelashes and the bluest irises he’s ever seen up close.

“I guess…” she begins, then looks at her lap. “I guess I figured if it was that easy for you to get me into bed, it must be something you do often,” she admits.

For a fraction of a second he worries that he pressured her into something she didn’t want, but his memory is sharp enough to quickly correct him.

“I know I was pretty hammered last night, but I could have sworn it was you who got me into bed,” he chides her gently, being careful to keep any judgment out of his voice.

She peeks up at him from beneath those blonde lashes, and he honestly can’t tell whether she’s proud or ashamed. Maybe both.

“I can only imagine what you must think of me,” she says, her tone unreadable.

She’s so fascinating to him, though he can’t quite pin down why. He wants to know her, but suspects that knowing her isn’t easy to do.

“I think you’re smart, and beautiful, and I wish I didn’t live on the other side of the Atlantic,” he says, quite plainly, and while she does not look at him he can see that she’s smiling.

“Thank you,” she says quietly.

He doesn’t stay long, not wanting to put her in the position of having to ask him to go. Before he leaves, he writes his mother’s address on the back cover of a Glamour magazine and tells her he’ll likely be moving back to The States after he graduates this spring. He doesn’t ask her to contact him, and she doesn’t make any empty promises that she will.

She walks him to the door and she’s even shorter than she’d been the night before without her heels on. He lingers at the threshold, not feeling quite ready to say goodbye.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?” he asks, and her mouth quirks with an almost-smile.

She nods, and they share a chaste but lingering kiss before he walks back to the club where his car is parked, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face every step of the way.

#x files fanfic #the x files #xf fic #xf fanfic

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whumpsday · 10 months

Text

Kane & Jim #53: Healing Right

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: recovery, (past) vampire whumper, broken bones, past loss of bodily autonomy, offscreen surgery, emotional whump

Whumpmas in July Day 18: Ache

back to this guy :)

Jim rubbed at the bump on his arm where the bone didn't heal quite right, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. The bone on his forearm went at an angle, up and up, before suddenly dropping off where it met misaligned with the rest of it going to his elbow. Bones, they'd told him there were two, but it was easier to just think of it as one.

It hurt, but it wasn't a bad hurt. Jim knew bad hurt. It was a dull ache he'd gotten used to over the past two years. It didn't hurt like the snap when Kane cracked Jim's arm open with his bare hands anymore, and he had pain meds now anyway. He'd tried to get on some stronger ones, but Liz had told him it wasn't a good idea, that he'd get hooked. Jim wasn't very good at disagreeing with people anymore, so he just took her word for it.

But he'd get some now for sure. Even Liz said it was okay this time. Because he had to get his arm re-broken.

Every day as the operation got closer, the dread grew more and more. He knew it wouldn't be like the first time. He'd be conked out, and he'd be allowed pain meds, real pain meds. It wasn't a punishment, and if all went well, his arm would be fixed. No reminder of Kane every time he looked at it. Probably no dull ache. It was even his own choice.

They couldn't fix the scar on his neck, neither the mark or the pain, so this was the best he could do to scrub off any lasting reminders Kane had left on his body. Liz's friend Laken had suggested a tattoo to cover it, but the idea of a needle going into his neck was so horrifying that the thought made him want to throw up.

But he could do this, at least. Even if breaking his arm again would be scary, he needed to claw his body back for himself. He needed to know it was his again, not Kane's. No matter how much it would hurt.

“I don’t belong to anyone. My body is mine. I’m out," Jim whispered to his reflection. Afraid to say it any louder, like Kane would be able to hear and swiftly correct him.

He got dressed, hiding his neck and arm under a turtleneck. He'd started dressing in them every day, though he knew he would need to take it off for the surgery. One more thing to dread about it, but he told himself it was worth it.

"You ready?" Liz asked as he came downstairs.

Jim shrugged. "As I'll ever be, I guess."

The operation was a success. If there was anything at all to thank Kane for, it would be that he'd made a relatively clean break.

Jim's arm hurt like hell when he woke, but he knew it wasn't as bad as it would be without the meds. He had a cast this time, and a real sling, not one he had to make himself. His friends kept wanting to sign the cast, but something about it made him wildly uncomfortable in a way he couldn't explain.

He knew the old him would have jumped at the chance to have all his friends sign it. Probably would have given out points for who could draw the best doodle. He was practically a social butterfly when he was nineteen, before Kane got to him, but now it just seemed like he kept finding more and more disconnects with his old friends. They had jobs and babies and memories of the past five years together, and all he had were Kane and panic attacks.

Even though his friends kept reaching out and inviting him to stuff, he was too neurotic to act like his old self. It felt like putting on an act, it felt wrong. And being his real self was even worse: he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want them to know.

His cast remained unmarked.

He woke with a scream a week after his surgery, his arm exploding with pain, far worse than it'd been during his recovery.

Jim looked around wildly, but couldn't see the source of the pain in the dark of his room. He sobbed, clutching his arm protectively to his chest. He'd been so badly-behaved lately that he couldn't even pinpoint what it was he was being punished for.

He flinched back into the headboard with a whimper as the door flew open. "Please don't," he begged, trembling.

"It's okay, it's just me," Liz soothed. She sat down next to him. "Nightmare again?"

"No, I don't- I don't think so?" Jim struggled to catch himself back up to reality, but with the haze of sleep leaving his mind and Liz's presence grounding him, he came to the conclusion it wasn't a punishment at all. "I hit my arm in my sleep," he realized. "Sorry for waking you. Didn't mean to."

"You're all good," Liz assured him. "I wasn't even asleep. Getting myself back on schedule for when I go back to work."

Jim's stomach turned at the thought, even though it was no surprise. "What if something happens to you?"

"Someone's gotta protect people from 'em. Plus, I know we live in the cheapest place in the country, but I've gotta get back to work," she pointed out.

"There's other jobs. I'll get one again too, once I'm better. You could just... not go back." As much as Jim hated living by the border, the fact that it was so cheap to live here at least gave them some leeway. At least they didn't have to worry about rent, even though selling the house was nearly impossible if they ever wanted to move.

Liz patted him on the back. "Not for me, there isn't. It'll be okay. I won't be alone, and I've been doing this for years with no issues."

"What about that?" Jim pointed to the scars on her face, faded claw-marks running dangerously close to her throat.

"That barely even counts. You should've seen the other guy. Dead, for what it's worth. Most vampires won't even fight us, they just decide it's not worth the trouble and run back home. It's gonna be fine." She gave him a quick hug. "You gonna be okay to go back to bed?"

"Yeah. Just... be safe. I can't lose you again," Jim said quietly.

Liz gave him a sad smile. "I know how you feel. I'll be as safe as I can. Just go back to sleep."

True to his disobedient streak, Jim couldn't manage to fall back asleep, mind racing with fear. Liz getting taken by vampires, subjected to the same hell as him, or having her mind stolen from her entirely. Kane showing back up to steal him away in the night while Liz is off fighting other vampires, arriving home too late to help. Jim reached a shaking hand under his pillow and took his stake- a real one this time- and held it close as he sobbed, trying to be quiet and not disturb Liz again.

He could only hope his arm would heal better than he was.

i'll be putting out two one-shots next! one about a fairy whumpee on friday, and one about an alien whumpee on monday. after that, more Jim in Distress!

event: @whumpmasinjuly

taglist in reblog!

#kane and jim #whump #vampire whumper #my writing #whumpmasinjuly2023 #wij23day18 #recovery whump #broken bones #emotional whump #whump writing

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lady-lostmind · 2 months

Text

Privileges

for Stobin Month prompt: Trio

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 703 | Rating: G

ao3 link

Steve pulls up outside of Eddie’s trailer and honks the horn, grinning when Eddie hurries out, and hops in the passenger seat.

Steve shakes his head as he pulls away. “You better not get too comfortable there.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Seriously? I don’t even get upgraded to front seat privileges as the boyfriend?”

Steve smiles, reaching across to squeeze Eddie’s leg. He does like hearing him say that. “Sorry, babe. Platonic soulmate privileges are grandfathered in.”

Eddie shakes his head, sending his curls flying wildly around him. “This is blasphemy! I’m not moving!”

Steve chuckles and shrugs. “Okay. It’s your funeral.”

–

Steve pulls up outside of Robin’s and honks the horn, glancing over at Eddie with concern. “Last chance.”

Eddie crosses his arms and pulls his feet up into the seat. “I’m not scared of Buckley.”

Steve watches as Robin comes skipping out of the house with a smile, freezing when she spots Eddie in her seat, her face falling into a scowl. She stomps over and rips the passenger door open. “OUT, MUNSON!”

Eddie wraps his arms tighter around him and shakes his head. “NO! Sit in the back. I was here first.”

Robin scoffs. “No. I WAS HERE FIRST. This is my seat.”

“I’m the boyfriend now! I get to sit up front!”

Robin laughs, shaking her head and grabbing Eddie’s arm to try and tug him out of the seat. “I don’t think so, Munson. Platonic Soulmate trumps boyfriend. OUT!”

Eddie squawks trying to pull his arm back, his legs falling back to the floor to steady himself. “JUST SIT IN THE BACK, BUCKLEY! THIS IS RIDICULOUS!”

Robin swats Eddie’s other hand away where he’s trying to pry her hand off his arm. “DINGUS TELL HIM THIS IS MY SEAT!”

Steve huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “I’m staying so far out of this one.”

Eddie reaches up and smacks Robin’s cheek, making her mouth drop open in shock. “You did NOT just smack me!”

Robin wrestles with Eddie until she has him in a headlock, sticking her finger in her mouth, and then into Eddie’s ear, a mean laugh ringing out over his squeals of protest. “ROBIN! EW!”

Steve sighs, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “We’re going to be late to the movie.”

Eddie groans, grumbling as Robin squeezes her lanky limbs into the front seat with him, sitting on his lap, hunched over, and clearly making it as uncomfortable for Eddie as possible. “BUCKLEY! You have GOT to be kidding me! GET OFF!”

Robin shakes her head. “NO!”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m not driving with you two piled in the same seat like that. It’s not safe.”

Robin scoffs. “Steven! I won, come on!”

Eddie glares up at her. “Excuse you. I am still in the seat. My ass is on the seat. If anyone is winning, it’s me.”

Steve glances at his watch. “Seriously, guys. We’re going to be late. If you want popcorn and stuff we have to go. Like…now.”

A mischievous smile pulls across Robin’s face. “If you give me the front seat, I’ll give you radio privileges.”

Eddie’s eyes flash bright. “Complete control, Buckley.”

Robin rolls her eyes and she nods. “Yeah, yeah. Complete control.”

Eddie’s dimples pop as he grins and he holds his hand up in offering. “Shake on it.” His eyes flick over to Steve as Robin takes his hand and shakes it. “You’re my witness, Stevie.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I saw it. Deal made. Now get in the back seat before we miss the previews.”

Steve chuckles as he watches them untangle themselves so Eddie can climb in the backseat with a huff. He leans up between the seats, shoving a tape in Steve’s hands. Steve glances down, rolling his eyes at the Metallica tape in his hands. “You just had this on you?”

A cocky grin pulls at Eddie’s face and he shrugs. “Always know which battle is worth fighting, Stevie.”

Robin’s face drops and she gasps, turning to point accusingly at Eddie. “You took my seat on purpose so you’d get the radio!”

Eddie cackles, flopping back against the seat as Steve puts his tape in. “TURN IT UP, STEVIE!”

Stobin month prompt list by @lavendersto

#stobinmonth #stobin #stobin month 2024 #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #steve & robin #Steve & Eddie & Robin #lady lostmind

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