#... do i dare put it in the tag i will DEFINITELY get hate but. fuck it ig

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life. 

Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are. 

Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage. 

The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you. 

You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him. 

You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.

It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be. 

It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important. 

He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was. 

How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this. 

You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.

You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards. 

You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.

You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice. 

Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey. 

You almost wished it had torn you apart then. 

Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion. 

The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in. 

Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.

The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close. 

The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight. 

The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.

However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it. 

Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth. 

If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought. 

Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck. 

Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?” 

You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.

The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.

Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name. 

With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty. 

The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too. 

So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.

“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”

Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened. 

Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes. 

“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone. 

You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.

“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”

He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.

“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”

He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”

It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out. 

The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.

Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.

Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words. 

You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”

One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark. 

You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”

Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.

“Can-”

“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.

Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred. 

You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame. 

“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.” 

His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips. 

“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched. 

But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.

“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.

“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death. 

“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features. 

“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered. 

You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.

If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body. 

You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside. 

As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.” 

When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately. 

He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”

You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again. 

“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.”  Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this. 

You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself. 

Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand. 

“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours. 

It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something. 

But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.

“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like. 

He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you. 

He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified. 

You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it. 

“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.

His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it. 

He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it. 

You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”

Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs. 

Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you. 

As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret. 

Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.

You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”

This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.

With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again. 

“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.

It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.

Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair. 

When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. 

You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.

Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat. 

“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.

You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing. 

Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”

Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans. 

He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat. 

He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 

Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own. 

So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring. 

“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it. 

You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”

His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles. 

Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.

With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit. 

You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.

 “You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him. 

You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.

He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke. 

You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.

With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.

When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer. 

He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now. 

“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck. 

It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.

A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body. 

He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.

Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.

He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 

“You,” you gasped out.

“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.

Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction. 

He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.

“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.

Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.

Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist. 

You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand. 

His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny. 

With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.

It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin. 

He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back. 

Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry. 

The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.

Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.

It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.

“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier. 

Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

summary: Tara hates you, you hate Tara and even though your friends think it is just friendly bickering, you both know it’s much more than that.

tags: Curse words, enemies to lovers thing, slow burn, comedy? chill writing, mistakes, idk what I’m doing

word count: 1.2k

It was obvious to everybody that you and Tara had a weird friendship, well if they could tell you are even friends. There were always curse words flying in between you two, sending death glares to each other if you were in one room. But everyone around thought that things like that are normal, you just like to provoke each other, right?

But only you and her know that it´s not just classic friend-bullying. No, it is so much more.

Tara hates your guts, the moment she sees you somewhere near her throat just becomes more narrow and her gag reflection comes out. She doesn´t know what had made her this mad and hateful toward you. The girl´s guessing the feeling just gradually grew up inside of her.

 You have known each other for a quite long time but no one can really remember when it began. Maybe because it was always like this.

Someone would think that when you don´t like someone you would try to avoid that person as much as possible. That was not your case... you and Tara had the same group of friends.

„No, we definitely won´t watch that damn movie again.“ You snatched the TV remote from Tara´s hand.

„Hey! Why do you feel like you can just decide for others what we will be watching?“ The girl barked at you, trying to get the remote from your hand. You pushed her away with your free arm, making a barrier between the two of you.

„Because I know that they don´t want to see that again!“

It was Sunday night and like always, your friend group would meet at someone´s house and watch a film. It was the group´s tradition and no one dared to break it.

Tonight Tara wanted to watch the Babadook once again, not like they hadn´t seen it a thousand times already but well, nobody could resist a sweet girl like Tara. No one but you.

Tara was now glaring from her spot on a couch far away from you. „Yeah like you know everything you fucking dumbass.“ She said as she folded her arms, squinting her eyes at you.

„Don´t look at me like that you fu-“

„Y/N!“

„What?! She can open her mouth but the second I open mine I´m being scolded?“  You yelled at your friends with wide eyes, not believing what you just heard.  

You let Mindy take the TV remote from you, not really paying attention to what she was doing. „Today is Tara´s night to pick a movie. We should respect her decision.“ Mindy said as she gave Tara the controller back.

Chad tapped your shoulder from beside you, giving you a tight smile. You almost forgive them at the moment but the second you saw the young Carpenter giving you a teasing smile from the other side of the room, your hands turned into fists.

-

„I hate her! I hate her! I hate her!“ You said and each time punching the school locker. Slow breathe in and out and you just calmly put your forehead against the cold metal.

It was every morning routine for you to swear at a certain girl. Like how you could not when the second you see her your nerves are up to the roof.

Mindy was standing beside you, scanning you a little with the face she puts on every time she thinks hard about something.

„What?“ You asked with a low voice, raising an eyebrow at her. She sighed and looked back at you.

„You know, I always thought that you and Tara had a weird friendship but... I don´t know I was thinking that it was just an act, like you would be by each other sides if something bad happened to someone from you two.“

She was still looking into your eyes trying to find some answers, like you are faking your hate towards the girl or that you don´t mean it as much as it looks like. But to her surprise, she didn´t find anything.

„Mindy you know I appreciate you and everything but this...“ you pointed at your chest and to the distance in the hallway. „will never change. It´s just how it was made to be.“

„But can´t you just try to be a little more human to each other? Is it that hard?“

To be honest you can´t even imagine how it would be if the two of you get along normally. To you this is normal, you and her arguing like some rivals. Everything opposite to that would be not normal. You closed your eyes and an image of Tara smiling and being sweet to you came into your mind.

„AH!“ Mindy flinched at your sudden yell, not understanding looking around in confusion. The students in the hallway were giving you two weird looks as they were passing by.

„Why are you yelling!“ She punched you in the shoulder. „Everyone is now looking at us!“

„Sorry, I just imagined Tara being sweet.“ You shook your whole body at that thought. „Never again. Gross.“

Mindy shook her head from side to side at your child's behavior, grabbing your elbow and leading you into your first class. 

Everyone from your friend group was studying in the same school, that´s actually where you have met most of them. The first one you have become friends with was Mindy. You were quite awkward at that time, not a really sociable kid. Mindy makes sure to bring that up sometimes.

She was with you from day one and she´s the closest friend you have. That´s why you take her words a little more seriously than others.

-

Tara was in her room, studying for upcoming exams. Since she started studying at university everything felt different. She didn´t decide if it was good or not but as long as she wasn´t thinking about her past it was good.

That´s actually what she was looking out for, a new school and people, some fun. She wanted to leave her past right where it was supposed to be. Behind her.

 Don´t get her wrong her friends helped her so much but some things are hard to get over. Like relationships. And Tara doesn´t mean relationships like you have in kindergarten, innocent and forgetful.

She means like the one when you feel like you found your second half. When you feel like everything is for the first time, like when you are excited to try new things with that person or go to visit new places together.

Like when you tell each other your secrets and afraid, your best memories, and your deepest wishes. When you are just for each other, not for others. When you know you have someone you are connected to.

That kind of relationship.

Someone would say that she is too young to know what true love feels like but aren´t teenage years those when everyone felt like they were in love?

 Tara was glad she could start fresh and that she had her friends along her way to her new self. That self, that would make her love herself again.

A soft knock was heard on her door. The girl slowly turned her head from the book to the direction and was met with her sister´s face.

„Hey I´m heading to work.“ Sam said as she was leaning behind the cracked opened door. „Don´t forget to lock yourself. If anything-„

„Call me.“ Tara cut her sister´s sentence off as she smiled at her a little. „I know Sam, don´t worry.“

„Uh yeah, so- I´m going. Bye.“ Sam looked one last time around the room before turning around to leave.

„Bye! Be safe!“ Tara yelled before she heard the main door shut.

Tara turned back to her books continuing with her school work, not even after a couple of minutes she heard a loud noise coming from the neighbor next door.

Tara huffed and put her head into her hands. „Not again.“

The girl stood up aggressively from the chair and quickly walked out of the doors. She made her way to her neighbor´s door and knocked loudly a couple of times.

This was nothing new, it happened a lot of times already. The walls of the flat aren´t that thick so you could hear every little-more loud sound from the next apartment. Tara doesn´t know what is worse, the part that the annoying noise comes every time she tries to study or that her neighbor next door is-

„What?“ you asked as you opened the door. You stood there with a headset around your head and a controller in your hand.

„Listen, nobody is curious about your child´s outburst from losing a stupid game. Some people are trying to do more useful things in there and you should respect that.“

 You were looking down at her dead in the eyes with a raised eyebrow. „That´s all?“

Your arrogance was one of the things Tara hated about you. She knew you were just trying to get on her nerves and as much as she tried to get herself together and not let you win- you were good at that.

She breathed out an air from her lungs and started to walk to her apartment again. This was on the agenda with you two. Nothing new and Tara knew this would also never change. Not when you act like a complete idiot to her.

She wanted to get back to her studies but her phone rang signaling a new message. She swiped up her lock screen seeing that she had some unopened messages from the group chat.

Big boy Chad: Guyz there´s an upcoming festival this weeknd, u down??

Mindy smartass: Kid

Big boy Chad: Come n tell it to me in ma face

Mindy smartass: ...

Phlegmatic Y/N: You write like a twelve-year-old

Phlegmatic Y/N: When you become more mature I will go

Big boy Chad: k

Mindy smartass: I´m down with Anika

Big boy Chad: Ew u gross

Mindy smartass: ?

Phlegmatic Y/N: Me too

Phlegmatic Y/N: Ask midget

Carpenter no2: Fuck off

Tara Carpenter hated you with all her heart.

A/N: You read this far? Really? Uhm anyway! Someone gave me idea to do enemies to lovers and to be honest I have never wrote something like this so bear with me! A little chapter for the beggining but there will be more. Thank you for support and see you next chapter 🤍

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

⋆˚࿔ 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

synopsis: how genshin men would degrade you <3

tags: degrading (obviously) facesitting, mentions of gagging, oral, penetration, explicit

wrd cnt: 800+

a/n: cooking up an hsr version soon

Ayato is always complete and proper in his semantics, he's fair and he loves to praise you.

But tonight...you stretched his patience too thin and his only choice was to stretch your little cunt til you couldn't talk back anymore. "Fuck, you're tight, honey.. this is what you want, isn't it?"

This day was big for Ayato, but you just had to keep pestering him with question after question. Usually, he'd entertain your playfulness but tonight was stressful. So he took it out on you instead. Call it karma?

"Clenching from my vulgarity..what a whore you are." He whispered into your ear, bending you across his desk, while all the guests sat outside having tea while you got fucked hard from behind by Ayato, who put a hand over your mouth, warning you greatly to stay quiet and stop those slutty moans of yours.

"Am I wrong or, did you not hear me? Ayato said lowly, slowly growing more and more annoyed and irritated at your misbehavior.

"Do you need me to gag that mouth of yours, y/n?” Sounding more like a promised threat than a question.

The only way you can get yourself out of this is giving Mr. Kamisato all he asks for and more, and be an obedient girl.

Nothing could really piss off Alhaitham as much as you, but not in the way that's most obvious.

He hated how much you doubted yourself, looked down on yourself, and harbored deep annoyance of the fact you didn't love the things about you he can't get enough of.

Sure, he could give you a little cute pep-talk but, fucking it into you is the approach that'll really make it stick. Some reverse psychology maybe?

After hearing you badmouth yourself for what felt like hours, he's stripping you of all your clothes and sitting you onto the couch armrest, forcing you to look him in the eyes; daring you to say those things again.

"Fucking pathetic is what you are. You're lucky I'm not fucking that stupid shit out of your mouth". He said, grabbing your hips as he sat down, positioning your cunt over him.

Not sure if you should just hover, his large hand lands on your ass, surely leaving a handprint.

"Sit down y/n." Alhaitham groaned, pulling your hips down onto his face and swallowing your clit with his tongue; his eyes never leaving you and your perfect tits.

Wriothesley loved showering you with compliments and nothing but the sweetest of words, but sometimes he just can't hold back all the filthy things he knows you want from him.

Oftentimes he's just worried you're gonna start crying, but fuck is it hot when you do.

"Fuck, I'm gonna ruin your pretty little mouth." He breathes out, watching you kiss up his cock. On your knees and eyes up is his favorite way to gaze at you, and it's just so easy for him to fuck your face.

"Wrio...you said-"

"Sluts don't get to talk." He cuts you off, his brows raised in amusement as he lights up a cigarette and throws the lighter somewhere, taking his cock in one hand to push past your lips as the other keeps the cig inbetween his fingers.

"Open that dirty fucking mouth of yours... can't take it all of a sudden?" He says, shoving it deep into your throat while his hand grips the back of your head, letting you take it at your own pace before he throws his head back and thrusts his hips up as he hears all the sloppy noises, waiting for your glossy eyes to make an appearance.

Now, Childe really tries to be sweet and praiseful, but he loves how disgusting and filthy you can be, and it's even better when he gets to tells you how much he loves it.

Wearing a new outfit wasn't something you expected to lead to something like this.

Definitely not being put in a tight mating press by your lover, pressed into the couch cushions while he left marks all over your neck and collar, biting and sucking places anyone could see to leave no guessing who's you belong to.

"Look at your thighs...they're just spilling out. You look like a filthy slut, do you want me to fuck you like one? Is that it?" He asked, pulling and smacking the material of your stocking that you didn't think too much of, but the minute he saw you walk out in them his cock wanted to spring out and get in between your thighs. But your pussy was an even better spot.

Deep and deeper be thrusted, the springs in the furniture squeaking while your voice almost did the same, cursing and moaning his name while he kept you close. Small protests for him to be quick fell from your lips, urging him so the two of you could get to where you were headed prior to this..."short" break.

"Are you gonna be a good girl or a fucking headache?" He asked, only fucking your harder and slower, a hand finding to squeeze the sides of your neck.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Hello, hello! Congrats to the milestone! For the festivity may I wish for a fic with 1/A; 2/Canon- adjasond; 3/Hurt/Comfort and 4 is up to you. If it fits your jam, would be an outsider pov be possible? 👀

Thank you so much for the ask, I definitely gave myself some feels writing this one! I've never done a Wayne POV before, but I'm quite happy with how it turned out. 🥲

Your first warden

Words: 999

Rated: T

Tags: POV Wayne Munson; Good uncle Wayne Munson; Child neglect; Child abuse; Alcohol abuse; Drowning; Referenced parental death; Eddie had a shitty childhood; Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Hurt Eddie Munson; Recovery; Caretaker Steve Harrington; Hurt/comfort

The first time Eddie almost died, he was two years old. 

Al had insisted on bringing him along for that fishing trip. A proper men's day out, he'd said. Of course Al’s idea of a proper men's day out was hitting the booze the second they arrived. By the time Wayne heard him snore, little Ed had already wandered off. 

He found him floating face down between the reeds a few yards away. The water lillies and the pretty lights rippling on the surface must've drawn him in. Wayne thinks he lost five years of his life in the seconds between pulling him out and the kid's first coughs filling the air.

“‘s okay, kiddo,” Wayne murmured as he rocked the both of them, tears and lake water drenching his flannel. “‘s okay. I gotcha.”

The ruckus drew Al, of course. He took one look at them and yanked Eddie away by the arm, slapping him hard across the face. 

“Quit howling, it's your own damn fault for going in the water. And you,” his eyes found Wayne's and his face twisted into something ugly. “Who d'ya think you are, his fucking guard dog? Keep your nose outta things that don't concern ya.” 

And maybe it was because Wayne never liked being told what to do, least of all by his drunk, deadbeat brother - but he promised himself something on that day. 

For as long as Eddie would need him, he'd watch over him. 

He'd often think back on that promise over the years. Teaching Eddie to ride a bike. Letting him sob into his shoulder at his mom's funeral, daring Al to say something about being a man one glare at a time. Taking him in when he showed up on his doorstep, bruised and beaten, hair shorn so short his scalp was bleeding in places. 

Wayne never regretted his decision, and he never broke that promise. 

Until the day Eddie almost died the second time. 

*

The beemer parked by the new trailer is a sight he should be used to by now. Still, Wayne can't help but grumble as he makes his way up the porch steps. 

Don't get him wrong, he'll be forever grateful to the Harrington boy for carrying Eddie out of literal hell, but he isn't sure if this new friendship between the two will ever be anything but bizarre to him. 

Maybe it's because the Harringtons don't mingle with the likes of them, or maybe it's because the lad is the exact type of kid Eddie hates with a passion, usually. 

Maybe it's because Wayne has noticed the way Eddie looks at the boy. He's always had a way of getting in too deep, Eddie has. Drawn to pretty flowers and rippling lights that'll slip through his fingers when grasps at them, luring him in until it's too late. 

The first thing he hears when he steps inside is a thud, followed by a wince. He's just taken the first step when Harrington barrels out of the kitchen and into Eddie’s room, completely unaware of Wayne standing in the door. 

“Eddie? What are you doing?” 

“Nothing,” comes Eddie’s reply, and Wayne knows that tone. The just-got-caught-doing-forbidden-shit one. “Just trying to put up this fucking thing.” 

Toeing off his boots, Wayne hovers closer to the half-open door. A look inside reveals Eddie, sitting on the bed with a sheepish grin on his face and that giant banner he made for his band beside him. Harrington, back turned to the door, huffs and picks up the hammer lying on the ground. 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he scolds, climbing onto the bed and gesturing for Eddie to hand him the banner. A few swift movements and knocks of the hammer later, it’s hanging. “You could’ve opened a wound. Again. What do I need to do to make you stay in bed, tie you up?” 

Eddie grins toothily. “Okay, one: I am in bed, technically. And two: oooh, kinky.” 

Wayne groans soundlessly. Harrington rakes a hand down his face, plopping down cross-legged on the mattress. 

“Eddie.” 

Their knees bump together. Now that he has turned and he can see him in half-profile, Wayne recognizes the concern on Harrington’s face. Eddie’s grin shifts into something softer. 

“I know,” he says, watching his hand fiddle with a loose thread on his pajama pants. “It’s just … It’s annoying, not being able to do anything on my own. Being such a goddamn burden all the time. To Wayne, to the kids. To you.” 

“Hey.” Harrington’s hand settles on top of Eddie’s. “You're not a burden. We're all glad you're here. I'm glad. You know that, right? 

Eddie flips his hand, tangling their fingers together, and Harrington doesn't pull away. 

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs. “I know.” 

Harrington smiles, reaching up to cup Eddie’s face with his free hand. 

“You just wait,” he winks. “You'll be back to walking on tables in no time. And in the meantime …” 

Eddie melts into the touch, lashes brushing the other boy's palm as his eyes flutter shut. 

“In the meantime, you got me.” 

“I gotcha,” Harrington confirms, and leans in. 

Wayne is just about to sneak away when the kettle whistles in the kitchen. The boys turn … and then they all just sort of freeze.

“Hiya, boys,” Wayne rumbles when they're still silently gaping at him a few seconds later. 

“Mr. Munson,” Harrington croaks. “I mean … sir. I mean … hi?” 

“Wayne?” Eddie blurts. “H-how long have you been standing there?” 

Wayne considers that question while both boys continue to stare at him with matching scarlet blushes coloring their cheeks. Their hands are still lying entwined on the mattress between them. 

“Long enough, I reckon,” is what he finally says. “I'll take care of the kettle, Steve. You lads stay put.” 

And with that, he closes the door on their confused faces and makes his way into the kitchen. It's been a long day, and he's looking forward to resting his feet. 

More celebration ficlets

[allur1ngs]

we ALL know how protective bada can be right? we’ve seen it we’ve read it…

BUT we’ve never seen how the other bebe girls act when someone tries approaching y/n or is making her feel uncomfortable. i feel like out of all of them lusher would be the most violent and hyo would definitely be the most protective seeing as she’s literally y/ns bodyguard (also bada would 100% kill her if anything happens to her)

you're absolutely correct!!

tw: violence, torture, and a creepy man!!

she not only is the most violent--she's also the one to get physical quicker!! and she feels the angriest out of all the girls, because how dare some lowlife make you feel uncomfortable--(it doesn't matter if the person making you feel uncomfortable is rich or somewhat powerful as well--they're lowlife scum in her mind). you're her sweet unnie, and the soon-to-be wife of her best friend, she'd kill anyone before they get the chance to lay their hands on you.

tatter is next up on "most aggressive" out of all the girls. she's quite literally right behind lusher, except she usually hopes that the person bothering you will realize who you are and back the fuck up, but if they don't do so immediately, she's more than happy to fuck them up without a second thought.

after that the girls are all equally as protective/violent, except soweon is in dead last.

she takes after tatter in the regard that she wants the person to stop bothering you without having to use force. but of course, if they don't, she's following in the other girl's footsteps, and using physical violence to protect you.

hyo, as you mentioned, is absolutely the most protective out of them all, even lusher. her job is of course to keep you safe, but beyond that, she genuinely cares about you. she thinks of you almost like a little lamb she has to protect--of course, she knows you're strong as well--but that's her main goal during confrontations. protect you first, then beat the absolute shit out of whoever is bothering you.

(also let's not forget that if bada finds a SINGLE scratch on you, tiny or not, she'll literally have hyo's head. and there's nothing hyo hates more than disappointing bada, and you getting hurt)

so let's put together a little scenario to show what the girls would be like in practice.

imagine that you were out on a date night with bada (the girls decided to tag along for some fun and to protect you both), but she has to head home early because of some urgent business, and you're not exactly ready to leave yet.

bada says you can stay out, but only if all of the girls stay with you and keep an eye out for you, while she heads back home.

you agree, and with a sweet kiss and a, "i love you, please stay safe,"--and a expectant look at the girls, your fiancée is off on her way home.

you stay out for a while, and just when you start to feel ready to head home, a man starts to bother you.

he begins by just staring at you while you talk to the girls, his gaze curious, until he starts to really look you up and down, and gets the stupidest, and most disgusting idea ever.

he shouts things at you like, "hey what are you doing out so late? it can be dangerous out here," and, "why don't you ditch your little friends and come have a good time with me?"

lusher freezes in her spot, her teeth slowly beginning to grind against each other painfully. scolding hot anger is already building up in her gut as she turns around to look at the man harassing you.

"do you think that's funny?" she starts walking over to him slowly, like a predator that has their pray cornered. "how dare you speak to her like that?" (she does that thing you see in k dramas a lot where they take in a sharp breath of air and make a disgusted face iykwim)

the guy is most likely drunk, because he somehow still doesn't recognize you, or the fact that lusher has a gun that's just barely visible in its holster on her hip. so he keeps spitting out disgusting things, adding in a "bitch" here and there to you and lusher--

hyo steps up, standing in front of you and placing her hands over your ears so you don't hear what the man is saying, or see him, then gives the signal for lusher to do her worst.

she does so without another second of hesitation, punching the drunk man staight in the stomach, then in his face. when he lands on the floor she starts kicking him in the stomach over and over again--surprised that he still has the energy to spew vulgar things about you while getting the absolute shit beaten out of him.

tatter joins lusher, and breaking the man's nose with a particularly strong kick. they both taunt him, telling him that he'll suffer a fate worse than death for the things he said--the rest of the girls come in as well, with soweon being the last.

when they're done with him he looks like a lifeless shell of his former self, bruises and blood splattered all over him--he's basically unrecognizable.

so you think that they'd probably kill him now, right?

wrong.

lusher picks up the man and places him in the truck of the car, smiling at his terrified face while the other girls focus on comforting you and reassuring you that you'll be alright.

(also all of their trunks are sound proof...i'm sure you know why)

when they get home they take you in first, lusher staying behind to take the man out when you've settled into bed and the girls continue to take care of you.

she takes him straight to bada's office and throws him on the floor before explaining to her everything that happened.

so, that fate worse then death that i mentioned before?

yeah, that's bada.

that man will be just barely clinging onto life while your fiancée makes him pay for the things he'd said about you.

[heartrender6]

most of the kuwei hate in this fandom is absolutely racially motivated and most of it is probably subconscious but i NEED to talk about this.

and not because i think people r thinking "i hate kuwei!! he's asian and i hate asians!!" tbh most anti asian racism on the internet goes way deeper than that.

basically, what i believe to be the most prominent type of racism against asians, especially on the internet, is stereotyping. specifically "uwu-ification." the east asian entertainment industry likes to paint asian people as cute, submissive and sweet because it markets disturbingly well to american audiences, and whether people mean to or not, they internalize it and it affects the way they think of asian people as a whole. This mostly happens to east and southeast asian women, but definitely a lot with men too, especially in more recent years with the whole yaoi culture thing (i fucking hated typing that) becoming more popular. simply put, it's fetishization.

so how does this relate to kuwei? well, when kuwei is introduced to us, and im not gonna dance around it— he is pretty stereotypically asian. he's shy, innocent, small, good at math/science and— you guessed it— no speaka engrish. leigh bardugo lays the perfect trap for fandom white girl weeaboos to gush over this guy. once i came across a modern au where kuwei's whole northern chinese-mongolian ass is a "shy japanese transfer student." i really wish i was making this up.

but then we find out that kuwei is actually a conniving little shit who is really quite terrible at science and spends all day making shitty drawings of his crush instead of doing math or wtv. The turning point where we are told this is the jesper kiss. This is the point where we find out kuwei is not the yaoi uwu baby we thought he was. and how does fuckin 2/3 of the fandom react?? hate. instant hate. If you search "i hate kuwei" on twitter there are tweets both defending and attacking him, but there is significantly more of the latter.

most of them claim to hate him for kissing jesper but like... jesper kissed him. He doesn't say anything because, in his own words, "we're all probably going to die anyway." does no one see how tragic that is?? he let his first (probably) kiss be taken by someone who he knew didn't even like him because he thought it would be the only one he'd ever get.

and yet the only thing people see is that he "got in the way" of wesper and he's evil. throughout the series kuwei is given no agency, and that's the point of his character. everyone on the planet treats him as a weapon or a bargaining chip. he gets tossed around like a rag doll and to white (or otherwise not asian) audiences, that makes him the perfect picture of a little asian cutie i almost vomited typing that holy shit. but the moments where he takes something for himself— insisting on going to ravka, kissing jesper back— that's what makes people hate him. and don't even get me started on the way people project their hatred onto the other crows, especially wylan. yall will act like wylan loathes kuwei with all his being. he doesn't!! wylan is not a hateful person and he always defends kuwei!! but nooo, kuwei sucks and he deserves it for daring to be a person instead of an idea.

and hey?? guess what?? kuwei was NEVER in the way of wesper. there was no love triangle. narratively speaking, there was never any threat that kuwei would end up with jesper instead of wylan. never ever. the kiss was literally only put there to create drama for wylan and jesper. we never even hear how kuwei feels about it. stop using that as an excuse to hate on kuwei when we can all see it's because you're subconsciously mad at an asian person not being nice.

also disliking kuwei does not automatically make you racist, im just saying a lot of hatred towards kuwei is rooted in racism.

tagging my fellow aapi moots (that i know of) because i wanna hear yalls thoughts on this! @hauntedacousticversiontv @dramaqueentruther

[coff-in]

hiiiii coffin how are you!!!

may I request your amazing thoughts on Andrew and Ashley seeing their little sister [reader] using their clothes all (most) of the time?

like Ashley and her share a wardrobe, and their clothes do get mixed from time to time but she goes out of her way to get one of her sisters skirts, or sometimes when she walks out of the shower and it’s cold she gets one of Andrew’s baggy sweaters; and they realize that she now smells like a mixture of her own perfume, Ashley’s and Andrew’s with a hint of cigarette smoke. and as an extra pro, it gives them an ego boost seeing her flaunting around with their clothes!

- Dungeon Anon

notes from coff-in: dungeon, it's so hot where i am... i'm dying :( i'm melting :( i hate the summer... i hope you're faring better than me. jsut finished writing the response: holy hell im craving girlcock now

[fem] reader-insert, transfem andrew snuck her way in here, NSFW, incest

their little sister would look so cute in their clothes!! ashley would complain sometimes if [reader] wears something that she wanted to wear but any other time she's teasing [reader] about it. andrew feels oddly possessive when seeing his baby sister wearing his sweaters. he'd whine about it at first "did you have to wear my sweater?" and "can't you find one of ashley's old jackets to wear?" but he likes seeing her wear his clothes. maybe brushes his fingers against the nape of [reader]'s, excusing it as him fixing the sweater's tag

if we wanna talk about smells then we should look at their beds. sleep in a bed for two or three months without washing it and it'll pick up a scent that is definitely not fresh linen. andrew and ashley would be soo flustered if they saw [reader] sniffing and huffing their smelly sheets and pillows while wearing their clothes. mmm....

this fucking hear where i live would make wearing a black sweater fucking insane. if andrew choose to keep wearing that thing then [reader] would definitely be smelling that big brother scent along with cigarettes and that leyley perfume

codependency is codependent, ashley would fucking LOVE wearing [reader]'s clothes even if it's not exactly her style. it just shows how comfortable they are together that they're able to share clothes so casually, especially stuff like bras and underwear if compatible. andrew doesn't wear clothes that belong to ashley or [reader] since he's significantly taller, but maybe he'd snag a shirt and cuddle with it. maybe use it as a diy nightmare repellent, using the shirt as a pillowcase and pretending that it's his sister. "you smell so good sis..." and "... mngh, you stink... we should bathe together, hm?" and when he starts rutting into the pillow he'd bite on it like it's her collarbone and groan "shh! you gotta be quiet or you'll wale up mom"

transfem andrew would share clothes with ashkey and [reader] tho... wear [reader]'s skirt (that's a little short on her) and one of ashely's low cut long sleeves. do u think andrew has an incest kink or is she just attracted to her sibling/s specifically? just imagining her bending her baby sister [reader] in half in bed and muttering "you're so good for your big sis..." and [reader] lets out a "mommy..." cause andrew raised her and ashley their whole lives. andrew pauses a little and whispers in [reader]'s ear "you want mommy? you want your mommy to take care of you?" GRRR i need I NEED TO fucking EXPLODE " such a good daughter, taking her mommy's load... being such a good girl for m-mommy" WAAHHH I CAN'T I CAN'T (i love women so much ♡)

what if [reader] just got naked to the panties during the summer before bed? it's so fucking hot so she kicks andrew and ashley out of her bed and now they're just staying up all night knowing that their naked little sister is RIGHT THERE, her pretty tits and soft stomach (i gotta write fat/chubby reader one day cause THEYRE SO ME!!) and thick thighs bare for them to see except they can't touch!! how dare god put the most beautiful thing just out of reach... so unfair

i think andrew and ashley would have scent kinks (different intensities) but u lmk how u feel abt that. what kinks do you think they'd have? i wanna hear it, share with me your knowledge

indulge in incest

----

coff-in

[novarex]

Allright, I'm doing DROW SMASH OR PASS, Legend of Drizzt and Waf of the Spider Queen characters. I've seen this back in the tags and I want to play.

Drizzt Do'Urden - PASS - idk, he's not really my type, and he's just a little bit boring. It would also feel wrong somehow, and I don't know how to explain it. I mean... I wouldn't say no if he asked, but Cattie-Brie would have to be dead and I'd probably ask if he's sure like 10x.

Jarlaxle Baenre - SITUATIONAL - Don't get me wrong, he's lovely, but his personality is too close to mine, and there isn't enough air in one room for the both of us. But get me drunk, and I'd do it for sure.

Gromph Baenre - SMASH - Slamming the smash button until it breaks. If you know me at all you know I'm in love with this pathetic wizard man. He is both brilliant and stupid, and just the right amount of sarcastic, arrogant, sad, and pathetic. I would marry him. He wouldn't get a moment of peace because I'd be trying to entice him into bed 24/7. It's like he was written specifically for me to fall in love with. When he went missing in WOTSQ, I would have turned the city to rubble and made the rivers run red with blood looking for him. I know Cattie-Brie was pissy about the suggestive fantasies he put in her head with psionics, but I would literally learn psionics just to play a game of horny thoughts tag all day.

Zaknafein Do'Urden - SITUATIONAL - a bit too self righteous for my taste, and I think I'd probably get on his nerves. But I'd never turn down that legendary dick if I had a few shots in me. He's got some anger issues I'd prefer to steer clear of.

Kimmuriel Oblodra - PASS - I just don't think he'd be into it. I would also be incredibly uncomfortable with him having that much access to my thoughts. Unless, of course, he's into the wild fantasies that my brain cooks up...and in that case... we might turn this into a smash.

Rai'gy Bondalek - PASS - Strong possibility that he'd just make me self conscious. He's certainly intriguing, but he'd hate me for sure.

Dinin Do'Urden - SMASH - Dinin, my love. I would scoop him up and take him to a cottage in the woods and make sure his belly is full and his balls are empty and have all of his babies. I would brutally torture and maim anyone who ever dared to hurt him. I would burn cities to ash and end bloodlines for him. Dinin deserves so much better. I'm desperate for more Dinin, especially after the events of Lolth’s Warrior.

Rizzen Do'Urden - SMASH - I'd keep him as a pet. What malice did to him is unforgivable.

Nalfein Do'Urden - SMASH - I don't even know why other than he's pathetic in thre way that I like.

Beniago Baenre - SMASH - He's adorable. I would insist on him in his natural drow form, however. I bet he's a good lover too. In One Eyed Jax, Jarlaxle teases him a bit because he's definitely into human women. He smart, personable, and he definitely knows how to please a woman.

Braelin Janquay - SMASH - He deserves everything. I find him irresistibly adorable. He's spent more of his life outside of Menzoberranzan than in and has a pretty strong disdain for Lolthian culture. He is smart and clever and Jarlaxle adores him. Braelin has also suffered a lot and remains so loyal to Jarlaxle. Everything about him is attractive to me. He has quickly rocketed to my 3rd favorite, with Gromph as my #1 and Dinin as a very close #2.

Valas Hune - SMASH - I feel like we might genuinely get along. He'd be good to go camping with somewhere far from everyone else. I really thrive with one on one interactions, especially someone who needs personal space too.

Ravel Xorlarrin - PASS - He's such a fucking little booger. I might have liked him more if not for what he did to his brother/sire (it's just so fucked up what Matron Zeerith Xorlarrin did to Brack'thal after Horroodissmoth died). I just can't get over him in Charon's Claw. I want to slap him until he cries.

Brack'thal Xorlarrin - SMASH - Ok, I know he's only in one book (Charon's Claw) but he checks all of the "he's pathetic and tragic in all the right ways" boxes. His whole story makes me want to swoop him up and carry him off. Charon's Claw starts off so strong with him being kicked around that I just immediately wanted to protect him. His whole story just has me in a grip. It's really a shame we only got one book of him.

Tiago Baenre - HARD PASS - Fuck no. No way. I mean maybe if it gave me the opportunity to cut his throat, then I would make that sacrifice. He's the only irredeemable fuck face I can't find anything to like about. I'd kick him in the nuts.

Dantrag Baenre - SMASH - He definitely knows how to fuck. He's big too, which would be extra fun. I also have a weakness for Baenre boys.

Berg'inyon Baenre - SMASH - He seems like he'd know what he's doing, and if he didn't, he'd learn real quick.

Pharaun Mizzrym - SMASH - Let me be clear... I would not trust him at all. But come on, you know that sex has to be amazing. He knows what he's doing, is so good that he's an arrogant shit about it, and you'll definitely have a lot of orgasms. You know your legs won't work for a week after. There's a reason he's such a pain in Gromp's ass and it's because he's a wildly competent shitass.

Ryld Argith - MAYBE - He's just so practical it hurts. He also just doesn't seem to care that much about anyone other than Pharaun.

Nimor Imphrazel - SMASH - Half drow half dragon rabble rouser? Absolutely sign me the fuck up.

Allright. I'm not sure if I've missed anyone.

Tagging @vspin, @grandma-kei, @drizztdohurtin, and anyone else who wants to play. Feel free just to do the ones you know or add to it. I know I just did dudes.

[coffeecities]

i was tagged by @fueledbyremembering to post a snippet from a wip so here's my original lestappen ABO thing for lestappen week but it wasn't working for me so it remains a wip 🥲

“I’m not getting in between that.”

If Max was being completely honest (and he usually was but he got a massive scolding from Vicky for being 100% honest with the media when he just needed to be 80% honest with them), he actually would want to get between that. But he also knew Charles would have his head if he did because he could handle himself just fine and he didn’t need him to come and save the day. 

(If Charles did ask him to though, he would do it in a heartbeat. Just for the record. Anyway.)

George had run his mouth off once again (he’d been doing it frequently as of late, if Max did say so himself) and Charles was his target this time around. And Charles, bless his heart, finally decided he wasn’t having it anymore and fought back. But a bunch of other Formula 1 people were getting more curious and knowing Max and Charles were a thing, they half-expected him to get in the thick of things.

“But…you’re his alpha…Shouldn’t you control him or something?”

Which was definitely the wrong thing to say, given by the scoff that made its way out of Max’s mouth. How dare these people comment on their second genders and courting like that? Charles didn’t need him or anyone to defend his honour for that matter.

“Charles is not meant to be controlled,” Max answered blankly, fighting the aggression of his second gender very hard, “nobody is meant to be controlled.” And sure, the people at the paddock were already (mostly) progressive, but the man and his friends were clearly the conservative minority. Charles and George were still arguing in the distance, Carlos and Alex already there to placate both of them, but now Max was getting angry and the adrenaline from the race had yet to die down.

“There’s a reason why we have second genders.”

“Yeah, biology. The fuck did you think?”

The engineer—whoever the fuck he was—scoffed and Max could feel his heckles rising, absolutely hating the way the guy was reacting to him letting Charles be.

“Keep telling yourself that. Just admit you don’t know how to control your omega.”

Just as a growl came out of Max’s mouth and had been ready to pounce on the man, Daniel and Lando arrived just in the nick of time. Lando put an arm around Max while Daniel shoved the engineer away and shooed off the rest of the crew.

“Mate. Calm down,” Lando said as he struggled holding Max in place, the Dutch still ready to run after the engineer. “Seriously, Max. Calm down. That guy’s stupid.”

“Everyone in this paddock is fucking stupid.”

The words coming out of Max’s mouth were getting harsher and harsher, Daniel and Lando couldn’t help but wince at them. They set their sights on Charles who was still arguing with George (who looked just about ready to pounce on Charles too, had it not been for Alex holding him down much like Lando was doing with Max), and sighed.

[nozunhinged]

9 Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better:

@mikuni14 my beloved mikuni, always feeding into my narcissistic heart THANK YOU AND BLESS YOU 💖🌸

3 Ships You Like

There are only three so have them all lol. But you can rest assured they consume every inch of my being.

1. iwaoi (the reason why this blog exists and I'm making my fandom experience everyone's problem. I seriously contemplated getting a 41 tattooed.)

2. ZongyiZerui (my strawberry boy and mafia kitty, you'll forever reside in my heart 🐈🍓)

3. Billybabe (the bane of my existence, my biggest bias and everything I always sworn I'll never do: adore real people who I know nothing about. BUT THEY ARE SO DARN CUTE DAMMNIT!!)

First Ship Ever

Imagine my surprise when I learned 15 years too late that reading spicy fanfiction of Vegeta & Bulma is what you call the classic fandom experience. My teenage self missed out on so much community love. Also I can't remember if Taito came first, but they were my gay awakening for sure. Again, I contemplated getting Yamatos friendship crest tattooed.

Last Song You Heard

Bro, this guy dares to have a song called obsessed when I am indeed, literally obsessed with it. You need to watch love is better the second time around and then go and listen to Ayumu imazu. It's a fucking trip.

Favorite Childhood Book: Frederick. Frederick is a little mouse who collects colours and warm memories when all the other mice carry food into their winter cocoon. All his mouse friends mock him for it but in the end, when the food is gone, Frederick and his dreamy heart bring all the mice through winter. It impacted me deeply. I still cry when I read it at 33.

Currently Reading: Da Ge by Priest, the novel to the Taiwanese BL series that's currently airing on Viki. Although I have to put it away every 5 seconds because I can't decide if I want to watch or read the ending first. It's such a damn good story.

Currently watching: Oh dear. Let me ask MDL...

- Unknown (Viki)

- Love is better the second time around (gaga)

- deep night (iqiyi)

- 23.5 (yt)

- my boss (Viki)

Currently consuming: too much stress, too much food, too much work, too many series and definitely not enough fresh air

Currently craving: kitty cuddles, I'm not home and I hate it

Always tagging the same peeps I secretly admire but never talk to, OFC without any pressure 🥰

@autisticbokutoenthusiast @clowncroccharms @blneobin @daenanae @guzhufuren @lugarn @negrowhat @scarefox @sparklyeyedhimbo @lukaherehelp @bunnakit @chaos0pikachu

[theghostofashton]

wip wednesday

thank you @strandnreyes @paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe <3

apologies, this got a little long lol

TK drops his backpack on the ground and collapses into an empty chair at the relatively full table in the corner of the dorm lounge with a groan. Marjan Marwani and Mateo Chavez, both fellow freshmen who live on his floor, are sitting in two of the chairs on one side of the table, books spread out in front of them, and Grace Ryder, the floor’s RA, is sitting on the other side and typing into a laptop. Grace gives him a knowing smile as he joins them. “Hey TK,” Grace says. “Dare I ask how things are going?” “Not if you don’t want to be lied to,” he mutters. “That bad, huh?” Marjan asks. “Midterms are kicking my ass,” he complains. “I’m a great test-taker. I thought I had this shit in the bag. But most of my professors want midterm papers, and final exams.” “And, what, you…can’t write a paper?” He rolls his eyes at her. “I can, I just hate them.” “Because they’re more work?” “Okay, is it so wrong for a guy to want to enjoy his first semester of college?” He mutters. “There’s plenty of time to waste being stressed out later.” “I feel you, bro,” Mateo says. “One of my professors is giving us an exam and a paper. Like, was one not enough?” “You guys could easily do both, you know,” Grace says. “Enjoy yourselves and make time to get your work done.” He trails off with a sigh, shaking his head. “I know, you’re right. I’m being dramatic. I just…” “Everyone’s stressed out and busy, and I know I should be feeling those things too, but mostly I just feel kinda antsy and weird. I don’t know. I probably need sleep.” “Maybe lay off the coffee too,” Marjan says. “I had to cut myself off last week. It was getting scary.” “Same!” Mateo nods. “Some nights I’m too shaky to even fall asleep. It’s fucked.” TK puts his elbows on the table and slumps over them, burying his face in his hands. “Exactly why I do not miss freshman year,” Grace says. She smiles at him when he looks up at her, and he smiles back. He really likes her. Of all the things he imagined his RA would be like, Grace is definitely the best case scenario. One of the nicest people he’s met here, for sure. She totally turned a blind eye to the couple of beer cans he had to stash in his room the other day, and she’s definitely seen him come back to the dorm very visibly drunk multiple times, and, luckily for him, pretended she didn’t. “But guys, everything you’re feeling is totally normal. The first round of exams is always the hardest, I think. Once everyone figures out what works for them, studying gets a lot easier and people aren’t so frazzled. It should calm down soon, I promise.” “Thanks, Grace,” he responds slowly. “That’s- I needed to hear that.”

no-pressure tagging: @sanjuwrites @chaotictarlos @reyesstrand @lightningboltreader @welcometololaland and leaving an open tag for anyone else that wants to share!

[marvellouslymadmim]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag, @andordean

Tagging @room-on-broom @cassiopeiasara @tiffanyachings @nellectronic and whomever else wants to do it!

1. How many works do you have on A03?

Ninety five.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

1,840,502 (and counting...)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently? The Witcher. I do have a few other WIPs for other fandoms but we'll see if they ever see the light of day. Previous fandoms include The Worst Witch 2019, Criminal Minds, plus a few one-shots in a few other fandoms. But those are the big ones.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Pearl Diving (hells yeah the Lesbians win again), A Night with the Queen, Veiled Truths, Chaos Thy Name is Circe, Survival Skills.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Almost always...mainly because I feel extremely guilty if I don't (so if you have ever commented and didn't get a reply in return, don't worry. I still remember. It haunts me.) but also because I genuinely love geeking out with fellow fans. I legitimately have made some amazing friends (and also met the love of my life!) through conversations that started simply through fic comments.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oof...I definitely went through an angst phase so there are plenty of contenders. The Hunter's Remorse (24), Cassandra's Lament, The Unknown Known (both Battlestar Galactica), Walking Dictionary (Criminal Minds), Heart to Ashes to Stone (Game of Thrones), Long May We Reign (Reign), and Orbis Incognitus (The Walking Dead)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All That Glitters, Veiled Truths, Monstrous, pretty much anything I've written since about 2018ish.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

oh god. once, yes. in the Criminal Minds fandom. Granted, I pulled a surprise cliffhanger that, looking back, I would have breadcrumbed more--but I got SO MANY PEOPLE on ffnet screaming at me and generally being abusive because I *dared* to put a character in danger. it genuinely upset me so much that I stopped writing for a long time.

9. Do you write smut?

Absofuckinglutely.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I think once or twice? But I'm more of an AU kinda gal.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. But I did have someone lift very specific ideas from my fic (i.e. an AU where a certain character was given a very specific nickname and occupation, which another author then took and used in their own AU), and ngl, it made me feel hella weird. For the record, I wouldn't have minded it if they had simply put in the author's notes: "hey this idea was inspired by Mim, in her fic xyz". I didn't need them to come formally ask for permission or anything like that. But to see it in the wild and see readers commenting on their "originality" really put me off that writer as a person tbh (granted they're sus af for entirely other (worse) reasons too so this only solidified my feelings).

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of. I have had readers who weren't fluent in English run my fics through translators for Arabic and French, which I thought was hella cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I don't think so? Honestly don't remember.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

God. ALL TIME? Idk. I do love me a dynamic of "A thinks they're unlovable and B is the most patient and loving person alive", so definitely ships like Hackle and Cal/Eist are my top faves.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Some of my old Criminal Minds stuff.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Pridefulness over my characterization. And also...I am a fucking calathea of mental health and creativity. Everything must be *just so* or I cannot write. No messy house, no loud noises, no stress, no sickness, no dishes in the sink, no work emails to answer, NADA. Otherwise we shrivel up and die. Fun stuff.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have, and knowing my insane ass, I most likely will again. Sometimes it's just fun. But ya gotta actually know the language and be 1000% certain about what you're saying.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh god. I think it was Cats. Yes. The musical.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is like asking a mother which child is her favorite 😅 I have a different relationship with each story, and love them each equally but in totally different ways. I will say that my favorites to re-read for comfort myself are: All That Glitters, Veiled Truths, Monstrous, and A Night with the Queen.

[lumosatnight]

my year in fic - 2022

I was tagged by @the-francakes (x), @schmem14 (x), @broomsticks (x), and @danpuff-ao3 (x) for a fic roundup/2022 review/stats something or other, so I'm combining them all here.

2022 was definitely a year of fests. Fests fests fests fests!!! I joined and modded so many fests that I'm taking a month long break in January. But I also had SO MUCH FUN. Fests are addictive and there's a reason for that.

Alright, here we go. Let's start with some stats.

—

Word Count: 151,378 (alas I did not make my goal of 200k but I'll take what I can get. That's still the length of a full length novel!)

Hits: 56,307

Number of Fics started and finished: 21 works (+ just as many double drabbles/microfics/minifics)

Number of WIPs started: um.... pass

Ships I wrote this year (not including background ships): um.... also pass. There's literally too many to list. I write so many ships it's hard to find a trend. But I guess I gotta answer.

Drarry (10), Wolfstar (4), Rarry (3), Parvender (3), Flintwood (3), Deamus (2), Linny (2), and Fred/George (2) eep

Favorite ship(s): Yo this is such a hard question. Idk EVERYTHING. Drarry, rare pairs, and femslash. That's my answer.

Least favorite ship(s): Fenrir ships. I just can't get into them, but also, I dare you to convince me.

AO3 Fic Writers/Artists/Creators/Readers who have inspired me and my writing this year: ohmygod sososososo many. I'd be so annoying if I tagged them all. Maybe I'll just pick a few

@broomsticks and @consistentsquash for their rec lists! AMAZING STELLAR PHENOMENAL. Jackie also leaves the absolute sweetest comments and Squash is the best hype person you will ever find. I strive to be more like Jackie and Squash.

@thistlecatfics, @bluesundaycake, @danpuff-ao3 for their wonderful characterization. The depth and grittiness to their fics floors me every time.

@the-francakes for her humorous writing and @vdoshu for their creativity. Seriously, you never know what Doshu is going to do next. Every one of Francake's fics makes me laugh.

@crazybutgood, @sugareey-makes-stuff, @anaxandria-writes, @digthewriter for their art. Every time I see their art, I just want to write and write and write because it's so inspiring. I also want to leave them a million and some kudos. Why won't AO3 let me live my best life 😭?

@schmem14, @articcat621, @paulamcg for their lovely comments and dedication to keep reading what I put out. I'm STILL surprised that people like my writing enough to keep coming back 😅

Everyone in the HP Saffics and Rare Pairs server who constantly bring up new ships and headcanons and I NEED TO WRITE THOSE RIGHT NOW. I love you all 💖

Now with stats out of the way, let's do a countdown of fics.

—

5️⃣ Top 5 works I'm most proud of from 2022 (not necessarily my most popular)

Your Cigarette Smell [Sirius/Narcissa, E, 9.7k] — My fic for @hprarepairfest 2021! Which might be cheating a bit, but technically the fest ended in Jan of this year, and I love this fic so much that I really wanted to count it. But what could be better than Blackcest hate sex for the ages?

What is this, fucking Jeopardy? [Drarry, E, 20.5k] — Written for @hd-cluefest this year and an absolute blast! Cursed Draco and Curse-breaker Harry were a dream to write. This was my most popular fic from 2022!

Rosmerta's Special Brew [Andromeda/Rosmerta (but mostly gen), T, 6.0k] — My fic for @hpqueerfest that is a testament to queer joy and queer love. I love this fic with all my heart 💖

Call me baby (I'll be on the way) [Neville/Blaise, E, 6.3k] — Written for @hp-soulmates which I also modded 🙈. So much MISCOMMUNICATION and oblivious boys in love. Also filled with rare pairs galore!

Death and Undeath [Fred/George, E, 3.1k] — Written for @hpcestfest where I got to dip my toes into the Dead Dove scene. This is a fav of mine because I got to combine magic and science and wove it into George's desperation as he tries to bring Fred back to life.

4️⃣ Top 4 current WIPs that I'm most excited to release in 2023

Oh baby, here we go again. I'm SUPER excited for my fic for @dronarryfest 2023. I can't go into details because it's anon, but I am SO EXCITED.

I've started a longer Cissamione fic that I hope I get the chance to work on next year. Will it ever be published? We'll see.

Time travel Tomarry! I've read a lot of Tomarry but never really written it, so I'm trying it out for the first time.

Might finally continue my Drarry Squid Games-inspired fic. Maybe. Possibly.

3️⃣ Top 3 biggest improvements in my writing over the past year

Brevity: I think I'm finally getting the hang of cutting down scenes so I'm not info-dumping too much on the reader.

Confidence: I've definitely become more confident in my writing. I still wouldn't say I'm the best, but confident enough that I enjoy reading what I write.

Angst: I think I can write a fairly good angsty ficlet now. Fluff and smut, I might need to work on a bit more.

2️⃣ Top 2 resolutions (ways I wish to improve my writing/blog) for the new year

FINISH A LONGER WORK. I would love to actually finish something over 50k words and publish it chapter by chapter.

Cut back on fests (lol, yeah right) and make more room for myself. Be more mindful of my fandom limits and when to step back and take a break.

1️⃣ Number 1 favorite line I've written this year!

What if that was not the end?  Flip back to the beginning. Reink the quill. Rewrite the page.  Would that be enough to forget? Would that be enough to remember?

From White, the colour of flowers, my Drarry Hanahaki fic [M, 3.2k]. Lots of angst, multiple endings, and (un)requited love. I used this quote as a transition between sections, and it's still one of my favorites.

—

Happy New Year! 💜💙💚💛🧡❤️

[cr-noble-writes]

20 Fanfic Questions

thanks for the tag @mallaidhsomo!

How many works do you have on AO3?

124

2. What's your total AO3 words count?

675,033 (about 200k or so of these aren't actually mine because when you do a collaboration with several authors, it adds the total word count of the fic to everyone's word counts)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mass Effect mostly. Once in a blue moon Dragon Age. The majority of my posted fics are Supernatural.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Season Z Watching You Truth or Dare You Should See Me In A Crown Lock Me Up (These are all Supernatural)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I respond to every comment I get! There have for sure been times where its taken me months to do so, but I always do.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Here's the thing, "angstiest" is super subjective. I've got lots of fics with pretty angsty endings. There was a point at which people regularly called me a murderer because I had a habit of killing characters. However, I tend to find 'fate worse than death' much angstier than character death, so this one in which Dean burns off his soul to find Cas' grace to save him is it, I think: Whatever It Takes.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

You Should See Me In A Crown. I have a tendency to not do straight up happy endings. Like, trauma doesn't just go away, ya know. So my happy endings tend to be more melancholy/hopeful or what have you. This fic is absolutely an exception to that. Everyone gets what they want, the guy gets the guy. Basically I wrote this like an action movie haha

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've never gotten *hate* on a fic, but I have gotten comments that are rude and shitty in the way of commenters being demanding about what should happen in a fic or complaining that things weren't written the way they wanted them to be. My response to that usually something along the lines of "you fucking write it then."

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind?

Yeah! I very much enjoy writing smut. I think probably most of the smut I write is pretty vanilla, although I have definitely written some more intense kink by request and also because I like to challenge myself and learn new things. I do think my sweet spot when it comes to smut is leaning into the emotion involved. For most of my characters sex is less about the physical act of sex and more about trust and intimacy, so leaning into that works for me.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have an unfinished Supernatural/Into the Badlands fic, and honestly I only ever wrote one chapter, but I had initially planned to do a chapter for every episode of Into the Badlands. I also have a half-outlined, partially written Supernatural/Dragon Age crossover in which Dean is a templar, Cas is an apostate, and Sam is a Grey Warden haha

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Several! Its why my word count on AO3 is so high, actually lol

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I have a lot of ships across a lot of media, but the one I always always always come back to is mShenko.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh god, I have a ton of abandoned WIPs from my Supernatural days that I'd love to finish but probably never will. I just can't bring myself to write Supernatural fic anymore.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Character voice and creating dynamic relationships between characters.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Consistency, especially in long fics. My writing style tends to change, sometimes pretty significantly, from one chapter to the next.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Hell yeah, I love multilingual characters, and I love putting foreign language dialogue in fic. If you're using a made up language, you can kind of do whatever you want. If you're using a real language, try to find a native speaker to help you with it so you don't accidentally end up writing something offensive or that you don't mean to.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Marvel

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Lust. I wrote this fic for the SPN Dark Fic bang in 2019 because I wanted to write murder husbands. It was honestly super fun to take a full loving, domestic dynamic between Michael and Crowley and juxtapose it with them also being incredibly brutal murderers.

no pressure tags: @imbiowaresbitch @nickelkeep @bleuzombie and @rotschopf-thedrow

[sammywolfgirl]

Can you share some String Gummy headcanons? :3

A perfect opportunity to spread my feral string gummy propaganda again!

I say feral but more in a way he kinda acts like a weirdo but doesn’t seem to acknowledge his behavior can be seen as weird.

But also he can be feral I mean you gotta be a little if you consistently try and shoot a net gun at a fucking time god who can age you to death if they wanted.

He kind of has shit standards on food since he survived off rations and occasionally sandwiches in the broken future so he’d eat burnt food and not think it’s a big deal, he kinda has a thing about waisting food, he hates it.

Croissant made him spaghetti once and he cried(pos)

He likes tinkering on his gun and mechanical stuff, just taking it apart and putting it back together. He likely picked up that habit from the Director because she definitely had a nervous habit of that. He took apart his microwave once and put it back together.

One time he ate a screw. He was tired and thought it was food. Now some of the menders dare him to eat other metal stuff. And the mad lad fucking did it.

He was told to stop when one of the menders tried to dare him to eat plexiglass and timekeeper called foul.

String gummy will wrestle if asked to do so. He actually really likes the idea of sparing or boxing but he’s nervous about asking because he’s pretty strong and has training that’s above average compared to the other agents, and he gets self conscious about standing out.

The runners like playing games with string gummy, they have one that’s a modified version of tag, where string gummy is it and after a certain amount of runners are tagged they can turn on string gummy and try and wrestle him to the ground. It’s great.

String gummy would make bank at poker. This man does not emote to anything. Not for lack of trying he’s just got so many issues and is traumatized(tm)

For real though he just represses his emotions a lot, he doesn’t need to anymore but it’s hard to break the habit once you’re out of that crisis situation.

String gummy would kill timekeeper for a corn chip but unfortunately croissant is friends with them so he doesn’t. But he (half seriously) states that if anyone is going to kill timekeeper it’ll be him.

Nobody’s sure how serious of a statement that is but timekeeper is weirdly endeared by it, like she went “you promise :3?”

And then string gummy three a gear at them and she left while giggling.

String gummy is very kind by nature he’s just got so many levels of social anxiety and lack of social skills he tends to come off as rude or cold. He’s working on it.

Walnut and coffee candy are cookies he’s decided he’d kill for. If anything happens to those scrunklys he’s going to raise hell.

[oh-no-another-idea]

Today’s word find tag is sponsored by @asher-orion-writes​ for the words anger, crack, sigh, broken, sky, sleep. Thanks for the tag!

From The Invisible Girl:

Anger:

“This is messed up—” Lewis muttered, running a hand across his cropped curls. “I think we should try, worst case scenario, it’s a bust. But at least we’ll have done something!”

Antonio put a hand on his shoulder. “As much as I hate to admit it, that’s foolish. This way, they think they’ve won; we have the element of surprise, and I mean to use it. Let them be confident, and we’ll ambush them first thing tomorrow.”

Lewis grumbled an agreement, anger waning. “So, what do we do until sunrise?”

Crack:

“I need a horse,” Fynn said, eyes still stuck on the train slowly picking up speed.

Velia whirled on him. “What?”

“I need to get closer,” Fynn said, still making no sense. Maybe they were all actually dead and this was some crackpot idea of hell. “Come on!”

Sleep:

Paris’ eyes opened, and he sat up sharply. “Alright. Where do you suggest? We can’t exactly sleep out on the streets.”

It took Antonio a moment to gather his thoughts, but then he shook his head like a dog and declared he would locate a small hotel room or two for them to collapse into.

“Come on, Ms. Greene,” Paris said, standing and attempting to haul Fynn into some semblance of upright. “I have a feeling he’ll need all the help he can get.”

From Stars and Ships:

Sigh: (here’s the most recent bit I wrote!)

Thresh sighed and opened the large white icebox he was standing next to. “Well, until our captain figures it out, who wants an omelette?”

Vi raised her hand and jumped up and down. Quin looked around and realized it was midday and he hadn’t eaten since the prison gruel the night before.

Thresh caught his eye and winked. “I’ll just make a large batch for everyone then.”

Broken:

Quin flexed his bare foot. Bones and muscles and skin contorting. His other foot lay dumb and unmoving, spitting sparks and twitching. Broken. “Do what you can now.”

“Okay.” The mechanic leaped up and went over to the holo screen. “Were you serious about getting me a way outta here?”

“If you hurry the fuck up.”

Sky:

The street he was trundling down seemed to be growing narrower, emptier. Was it just in his head? Quin watched the terracotta walls, panic growing in his lungs. They were definitely closing in, creeping in on the blue between, blotting out the sky.

Breathe, just breathe. There’s plenty of air. A shopper holding a huge pot nearly smacked him in the face as they passed. A child started wailing from somewhere nearby. Quin pressed on, not daring to look over his shoulder, and therefore getting a spectacular view of the quieting street ahead of him.

Of all the streets to choose, he’d chosen one that ended in a fenced off alley, ground papered with fallen posters and blown fliers. The baked pavement was wet too, unbelievably, and where packed dirt and dust once were, was muddy and damp. Just the kind of place to get brutally murdered with an axe.

I’ll pass it on to @bookish-galaxy​ @dontjudgemeimawriter​ @dontcrywrite​ @did-i-do-this-write​ @eccaiia​ @talesfromaurea​ and anyone and anybody! Your words are choice, churn, champion, and church :)