#I’ll go back and tag some folks too but later

[murdocs-sweetheart]

Get to know your mutuals

Tagged by @dastmalchiansnose !! Hii ! Tyy!! :D

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What’s the origin of your blog title?

Well I just wanna start by giving an honorary mention to my former, longstanding url bc I had that one since this blog’s inception!

My former url, ‘selfindulgentfandomstuff’ was born of my half assed attempt at coming up with a blog name that indicated that I was a selfshipper and not just a normal fandom blog! I realize in hindsight, it probably did just the opposite haha! Still, it became kind of iconic amongst my mutuals/followers, I think, which is why I mention it haha!

My ACTUAL url as it is currently, ‘murdocs-sweetheart’, is the final nail in the metaphorical coffin that is my relationship with Murdoc (CBS MacGyver). I love that guy so so much and I wanted a url to reflect that yknow?

Favorite fandoms?

Alllll of Star Trek (but especially TNG, DS9, DISCO, LD) <- listed first bc even tho I don’t talk abt it much on this blog anymore, Star Trek is a core part of me in so many ways <3

CBS MacGyver

Villainous CN

Late Night With The Devil

Erhhmm probably more but I forgor and those are the main ones I suppose

Otp(s)/shipname?

Will I be crucified if I say my selfship with Murdoc?/hj I AM a selfship blog after all haha!!

For realsies tho, all my mutuals’ selfships and for canon x canon stuff, I gotta go with ‘Elim Garak x Julian Bashir’ aka Garashir. I drew a looooot of fanart for those two when I was younger haha!!

favorite color?

Any shade including and between blue and green. Cheating? Perhaps. Do I care? No :)

Favorite game?

The Star Trek Catan board game!! (There’s a theme here, are you noticing this?/silly)

Song stuck in your head

‘The Moral’ by Shayfer James

Weirdest habit/trait?

Oh man, I could be here all day listing stuff…autism moment. You understand/lh

I suppose the one that comes to mind has to be the way I sit when I draw. I CAN sit in other positions to draw but the way I CHOOSE to when I get to choose is … inexplicable to be quite honest 😭

hobbies?

Drawingggg (traditional and digital), jewelry crafting/beading, juijitsu (although truthfully I’m quite new at it so I’m not very good yet lol), umm I think that’s it.. I used to do archery?? I got pretty good too. Stopped bc I hit a rough patch that wouldn’t go away and took a break about it and haven’t gone back yet. :(

if you work, what’s your profession?

Unemployed babeyyyyy

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

Well, my goal, right now, is to work in some kind of space exploration program. Not sure where, perhaps NASA but that feels a bit too lofty even for my fantasies haha! But for the purposes of this question, yes I suppose my dream job would be working as an astrophysicist at NASA or some comparable organization. (NOT SpaceX)

And I think my alternate, that I’m still equally enthused about- so much so that I added it here- is working in research in quantum physics. Particularly stuff in quantum field theory! Cliche, I know, eeeeverybody wants to do ✨Quantum Physics✨ now but idccc I love the subject so much!!

Something you’re good at?

Umm I’ve been TOLD I’m good at drawing?? Not really compared to people I see on the internet but I guess I could say that- drawing! OH oh ooohh I’m EXCELLENT at untying knots. Like weirdly good and fast at it. Weird flex, I know 😅

Something you’re bad at?

Lots and lots of things, my friend/lh

I guess I’m pretty sucks at maintaining friendships. Decent at MAKING friends! Not so much keeping them, y’know?

Something you love?

ANIMALSSS YAYYY particularly cats, crows and elephants!!!

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff?

Literally any of the stuff I’ve listed above. My fandoms, my selfships, my interest in physics, you get the gist! I’m a yapper at heart!

Something you hate?

Whatever the hells going on inside my brain with that moralistic OCD type shit 😭😭😭

Something you collect?

ROCKS. SHELLS. PLUSHIES. BOXES/CONTAINERS. NEED I GO ON? I loooove hoarding stuff haha!!

Something you forget?

Most people don’t really give a damn if I slip up in a social interaction <- social (among other types) anxiety disorder haver

What’s your love language?

Idk I think I like when people make a point of reassuring me I’m doing Okay, in their eyes, if that makes sense?

Favorite movie/show?

Well. You already know about my fav shows lol. I’ll say my fav movies have to be a tie between ‘The Secret of NIMH’ and ‘Everything Everywhere All At Once’!!

favorite food?

My mom’s Puffed Pancakes :))

Favorite animal?

Cats, probably. Particularly African Servals!!

Are you musical?

I mean, I love listening to music? Is that anything? Idk I sang in Glee club throughout my elementary school years but idk if I was actually any good, despite being praised by all the adults in my life for it haha!! You know how people are, trying to make kids feel better.

What were you like as a child?

Annoying. Next question.

Kidding!! I was just autistic and undiagnosed! I think I was a lot like I am now? Just. Smaller. Maybe a little less anxious. Maybe a little more ambitious. Who knows.

Favorite subject at school?

Sciencessss (I took all the available science courses at my high school in either AP or honors 😎/lh/gen)

Least favorite subject?

P.E bc that shit is So Sucks. Also being a bigger girl meant that people always looked at me funny in the locker rooms. I don’t like locker rooms. :(

What’s your best character trait?

I think maybe my honesty? Like, not that I never tell white lies or anything but I think I’m pretty straightforward with most people, or so I’ve been told. That leads me to the next question tho…

What’s your worst character trait?

People REALLY do NOT like frankness sometimes 😭 so I think perhaps it’s two sides of the same coin.

In all seriousness, I think my worst character trait is whatever it is that makes me believe that I am Special. It used to be, I thought I was ‘special’ for being smarter than all my peers. Now it’s, I can’t help but think I’m ‘special’ in the way that I’m uniquely awful! 😃👍

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?

I should’ve gotten up before 2 pm LMFAO

If you could travel in time would you like to meet?

Leonhard Euler. To stop him from putting the Greek alphabet into math. KIDDING. As much as I have a personal distaste for all the damn LETTERS in math now (English and Greek now), I know that it is an elegant notation and he was smart to have introduced it. No but fr I would want to meet Euler bc of the sheer amount of STUFF he contributed to and how INFLUENTIAL and AWESOME a lot of the stuff he did was!! He was a brilliant dude and I would’ve loved to meet him!

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love):

I’ll be honest, I haven’t read any fanfic in a considerable amount of time. Chiefly bc I selfship now and honestly I just like writing my own selfship fanfic and reading that now haha!! Sorry!!

[cowpokeomens]

Pairing: Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI WITH THIS!!! Anyways, we got some smut, some vaginal fingering, p in v, blowjobs, praise kink, cute pet names, lots of kissing, lots of me being h-word, enjoy folks!

A/N: I found myself cringing when people brought up this fic because I thought it was so poorly written, given how much (I think) I've grown as a writer in the last few years. So, in honor of it being Jolly's birthday month, I'm releasing an edited version of this fic (Almost 2 years later!!!) for you all to enjoy. Part Two coming soon :-)

Read the Original Here If You Want (even though it's really bad.)

He’s staring.

You feel him staring.

Part of you wonders why the others aren’t making fun of him yet - they usually jump at the opportunity to clown on each other, scoff when someone is being “soft.” You don’t dare risk a glance to judge the nature of the stare - is it soft? If not, what is it? Surely you can’t be the only one aware of the stare to begin with?

You do your best not to wriggle around where you sit on the floor, cuffing your sweats one more time out of nervousness. They’re from some super-secret-elite-mega-ultra-exclusive merch drop; Noah had insisted on you needing a pair, because “Who the fuck doesn’t own a single pair of sweats?” They are as comfortable as described, if not a bit long. Such is the case when clothing was designed by giants, you reckon.

“Lillis.” You hear a Swedish murmur, knowing the name is directed at you. You remember the first time you heard the phrase, had corrected him with a polite, “Oh, that’s not my name.” You also remember his shy smile when he said he knew. You never got around to asking him to translate, worried it means “donkey shit” and will ruin the maladaptive daydream in your head where he wants you back and-

Stop, you think to yourself. We don’t go there.

You finally raise your eyes to his, dark and thoughtful and all-consuming - eyes that have been trained on you for at least half an hour. “Hm?” Is your dazzling response. 

He gives you a sweet smile, the barest curve of his lips. “Everyone said they’re going to grab food for dinner, are you going to tag along or slum it with me here until they get back?” He leans in conspiratorially, stage-whispering, “If you stay, we can warm up in Mario Kart and dethrone Noah.”

“As if.” Comes a scoff from the kitchen, where the man in question is slipping on a pair of slides. 

“New plan: You have to stay, because I’m tired of his arrogance.” Nicholas chimes in matter-of-factly, tugging on a pair of worn-out sneakers. 

A debate breaks out between them, Nick serving as instigator to both sides as Noah lists all the reasons why he’s “so damn good” at the racing game. A tap on your shoulder tears your attention away from the scuffle. 

He’s closer now, too close for you to hide your sharp intake of breath at his proximity. “So you’re going with those goofballs?” Jolly gives you a knowing look, as if he already knows the answer. No doubt it’s evident on your face. 

You return his smile. “I think I’ll sit that one out, thanks.” Then, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the kerfuffle in the kitchen, you call to the others, “Y’all go ahead, I’ll hang back here.”

Nicholas poorly hides a smile, Noah outright rolling his eyes as he responds. “Figures. Text us your order, don’t do anything nasty on the couch-” He’s cut off with a loud smack, voice trailing down the hallway as the group hastily exits. “Ow, fuck. What? It’s true! He’s been staring-”

You can feel your cheeks warming up as his words grew fainter. Jolly seems unbothered, already setting up the Nintendo Switch controllers. 

As he hands you your signature purple, you clear your throat. “So, unfortunately, I don’t know if we’ll actually be able to dethrone the king tonight. You know how much I suck at Mario Kart - and I haven’t played in months probably.” You admit sheepishly.

Jolly huffs a laugh at your confession, coming over to sit beside you; Close enough that your outstretched legs are bumping against each other. You can smell the shampoo he used that morning, cologne coming off him in soft waves, the scent of amber and tonka bean mixing with something else that was heady and dark. You want to burrow your face into the smell and fall asleep. 

“Fear not, älskling, we can sharpen your skills in no time.” He makes quick work of adjusting the settings, then turns to you. “C’mere.”

You blink. “I am here?”

Huffing another laugh, he motions to the ground between his legs. “No, like, here. Come sit, I can’t help you from all the way over there.”

Your face is scarlet, you know. You can’t look him in the eyes, but you shuffle over to settle yourself between his long legs without protest. Your back is rod-straight, afraid of what it might feel like to relax against his chest. 

His arms come up and around you, making you feel small in comparison as he places his hands atop yours on the controller. Long hair tickles your arm as he leans forward, chin resting at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. Distantly, you remind yourself to breathe.

“Okay, so the first thing we’re going to do is customize the car. What character do you want?” His voice is soft in your ear as he presses a series of buttons on the controller.

“Peach.” You reply automatically, thankful you don’t have to think about it.

You can feel his smile on your shoulder. “Princess for the princess, sounds good.” Selecting the blonde character, the screen shifts to a selection of bikes, wheels, and gliders as he continues. “So if you press this button, it’ll show you the stats for each option. You can go for speed, but keep in mind that it can be harder to turn…” He continues on as you find yourself relaxing into the lull of his voice, nodding at the appropriate times, letting his fingers guide you across the screen. Your shoulders slumped a bit, back coming to rest against his chest ever so slightly, the soft material of his sweatshirt cushioning you. 

“... did you get any of that?” Your brain catches up slowly at his pointed question.

“Hm?” You straighten a bit, trying to appear alert. “Oh- uh, yeah. I want the little pink sports car - with the stripes on it.”

It’s evident he’s fighting back a laugh as he replies. “That one has the lowest speed, älskling.”

“The stripes will make me faster.” You argue. “And what is an ‘L-sling?’ Will it make me go faster, too?”

He can’t hold back his laugh now, shoulders curving forward to bump against you gently with the action. “Älskling, not ‘L-sling,’ lillis.”

You sigh, exasperated. “What does that even mean? It’s no fair, I don’t even know what you’re saying! Is it mean?” He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off as panic bubbles up in you. “Oh my god, it’s totally mean, I change my mind - I don’t want to know -”

“Baby.” Freezing at the word, your mouth snaps shut. Setting down the controller, his hand settles lightly on your thigh. Your skin sears where his fingertips graze. “They’re not bad words, they’re just-” He stops, sounding hesitant. 

You decide to be brave, turning around so you can see his face. Sitting back on your heels, you look at him expectantly, trying to convey patience. 

There’s a long, quiet moment between you, where he seems to study your face. You hope he finds something admirable there, or at least interesting. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He says at last. 

Cheeks flushing, your eyes move down immediately to where your fingers are toying with each other. One of his hands reaches out to grab yours, stilling their movement. 

You take a deep breath before you speak again. “Okay, trade.” 

He cocks his head, confused. “Trade?”

You nod. “Mhm. You tell me what ‘lillis’ means, and I’ll tell you something too.”

He seems to give it serious thought. “Do I get to pick what you tell me?”

You furrow your brows despite yourself. It made sense - you are making demands, so he can also make demands. A better question would be, can you handle what he would ask?

Only one way to find out. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair. Now go.”

A ghost of a smile flashes across his face. “Lillis is like, ‘little one,’ I guess would be the closest translation.” He has the decency to look sheepish for a moment, but continues, “It’s, uh, well - it’s kind of like baby talk?”

“You’re calling me a little baby?” You ask sharply, raising an eyebrow. 

The laugh that erupts from him blissfully shatters the tension of the moment. “No, I’m calling you little. In the tone that you’d use with a baby. It’s-” 

“I am not little!” You object indignantly. 

Giving you a simpering look, he continues, “It’s a term of endearment. Not bad. Now,” both of his hands come to rest on the tops of your thighs. “You tell me something - something you would never, ever tell me otherwise.”

A million ideas flash through your mind, ranging from domestic scenes of cooking dinner to carnal desires that you only indulge in when you are at home, in your bed, very alone. Your face heats up, whether from shame or arousal you aren’t sure. Now isn’t the time for it anyways, you need to come up with an answer, quickly. 

“I can see you overthinking, älskling. Spill it.” He ducks his head down to look into your eyes, and your mouth opens of its own accord. 

“The first time I saw you I wanted to kiss you.” You blurt, jaw snapping shut, as if the force of it could somehow form a vacuum that will suck all the words back in. 

He’s grinning now, a devilish thing that’s entirely too smug and self-satisfied given the circumstances. “Oh yeah?”

“Shut up.” Comes your grumble, equally as frustrated with him as you are with your inability to formulate a witty response. 

Leaning in closer, his fingers curl ever so slightly to grip the outer flesh of your thighs. “And now?”

Unsure of what he’s asking, you allow confusion to wrinkle your brow. “Now what?”

A smile lingers on his lips, the way wildflowers linger in the early chill of autumn. You realize too late that he’s too close again. “Do you still want to kiss me now?”

You swallow once, breaths ragged. You could lie, in theory - though you know it wouldn’t fool him for a second. It will allow you to continue pretending, though. You didn’t know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him loving you back, even with the real potential of it sitting in front of you. Your imagination can’t reject you unless you order it to, but this - Jolly, here, in the flesh - could grow bored of you, or see your many flaws and decide you aren’t worth the effort. Still, you don’t think you can lie to him. 

You nod. 

Another grin. His chin juts up ever so slightly, so that he’s staring down the column of his nose at you. “Then ask nicely.”

Your mouth drops open, taken aback. “‘Ask nicely?’” You repeat, rage bubbling up to the surface. “You should ask nicely! You’re the one staring at me today! Pulling me into your lap and ‘teaching me’ how to play Mario Kart, you big, dumb, Swedish-”

Your rant is cut off as his lips crash into yours, one hand leaving your thigh to grab your jaw, the other coming up to your back to pull you against him. You melt into the feeling, hands finding their way to his face. 

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, in between kisses. “My pretty girl.” His tongue comes out to trace your bottom lip, catching it in his teeth and tugging on it. The groan you let out is entirely involuntary, legs scrambling up so you can settle in his lap. He bites your lip again, and you can’t stop your hips from flexing into him, grinding down. 

“Älskling, we don’t have to do anything-” He mumbles around your mouth, hands pulling you impossibly closer. 

“We don’t,” You agree, continuing on, “But if it’s all the same to you, I have a lot of ideas filed under ‘things I would never, ever tell you-’” 

You can feel his smile in the kiss, large hands coming down to grip at your ass, kneading the flesh there. Whimpering, you paw at his shoulder pathetically.

“Not here.” He finally breaks away to pant. “Not the couch.”

The giggle that escapes you is almost delirious, as if the shock that this is really happening is sending you over the edge. 

He stands, pulling you up with him, guiding you both to his room with a calm assuredness that grounds you. Kind of.

“Oh, we’re gonna have weird, nasty sex.” You sing gleefully. 

Laughing as you both finally reach his room, he shuts and locks the door quickly after pulling you through the threshold. 

Backing up slowly, you’re hindered only by your calves running into the bed. As he turns to look at you, you finally register the heat in his gaze, pupils blown wide with lust. He’s in front of you in two quick strides, hands finding home on your hips. 

“Tell me.” He demands, tone not in the least bit demanding. “Tell me the ideas you have.”

You gulp, suddenly shy again. It’s one thing to say “weird” and “nasty” in the abstract, but to have you articulate the thoughts you’ve had? “Um…” Is all your mind can muster.

“Trade?” He prompts. His hands have made their way under your shirt, rubbing at the bare skin of your back. 

You nod, happier with the agreement. Still, you hesitate. “Um, well.” 

A thought pops in your head, one of the more profane on your list of fantasies. It must reflect on your face, because Jolly’s next words are: “Tell me.”

Knowing your cheeks are the color of summer tomatoes, you do your best not to stomp your feet and whine. A deal’s a deal, though. “Remember when I flew out to visit y’all in Texas? The hotel with the balconies?”

Something wicked glints in his eyes, following your line of thought. “Go on.”

“I thought- I thought about you. About us. On the balcony.” You stammer, not sounding even slightly as sexy as you hoped. 

“A bit more detail, baby.” He pushes gently, hands still rubbing soothing circles on your back.

Bolstering your courage, you continue. “I thought about what- what it would feel like, to have you bend me over the railing and do what you wanted with me. I thought-” You take a shaky breath as his hands still on your back. “Thought about the people who might have seen me- seen us and known that I was yours.”

His grip is tight as he pushes you back onto the bed. “Thank you for sharing. Want to know what I was thinking about that night, in the next room?”

You nod too fast, desperate. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He’s hovering over you now, nose tracing the column of your neck. “I could hear you, y’know.” You freeze at his words, but he keeps going. “Heard you moaning and whimpering. I thought about what it would be like to be able to spread you out and have my way with you. What kind of sounds you’d make, how long it would take for you to start shaking for me. How long it would take for you to fall apart for me.” His hands are under your shirt, holding your ribcage, thumbs playing the underside of your breasts. “I came twice before my cock finally softened enough for me to sleep.”

“Joakim.” You whimper wantonly, lust clawing at your senses. 

“There she is.” Comes his soft response. “The girl in the room next to mine. She kept saying my name, too - moaned it every time she came. Think you can do that again, pretty girl?” 

You nod desperately, body arching into his.

“Use your words, baby.” He prompts.

“Yes.” You gasp. “Whatever you want Joakim, I can do it.”

He pulls you into another deep kiss. “If you want to stop at any point, we can, okay?”

“Okay.” Your head is going to fall off with the vigor of your nodding. “Yeah.”

“Good girl. Take off your clothes.” He instructs, standing up to watch you. 

All but ripping off your shirt, you toss it to some corner of the room, your sweatpants following shortly after. You don’t give a thought to your undergarments until Jolly says “Nice panties.”

A glance down reminds you that your underwear have a gingerbread man emblazoned on the front of them, remnants of an impulse purchase last Christmas. “Shut up - I’m doing laundry tomorrow.” You can’t suppress your smile, though. 

He crawls back onto the bed, mouth enveloping yours as soon as he’s close enough. Leaning down, he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking at it until it’s pebbled and hard against his tongue. You arch into his mouth as he shifts his focus to the other one, teeth just barely grazing the skin. He pauses only when you paw at his sweatshirt, whining, “You too, off, off.” 

He breaks the kiss long enough for him to tug the article over his head, hair going in every direction. Your hands are busy tugging at his pants, boxers doing nothing to conceal the bulge he’s sporting. You try stroking it through the material, but he swats your hands away before you can make much progress. “You first.” His tone is final. 

Pushing you back slowly, your legs come up to wrap around his waist as he cages you in. His hips grind into you experimentally, a groan leaving his mouth. 

“Please,” You whimper. “Joakim, please, I need something.”

“I know, pretty girl, so patient for me.” He soothes as he snakes a hand between your bodies, running his middle finger along your slit. You moan pitifully at the contact, tremors wracking your body at the slightest contact.

“You are so fucking wet, baby, holy shit-” His finger dips deeper this time, running over your soaked hole lightly. 

“Stop teasing.” You demand with zero authority in your voice.

His grin is lecherous. “If I was teasing you, you’d be crying.”

Two fingers are thrust inside you before you can muster a response, curled up in such a way that makes your legs fully extend, toes flexing. He sets a slow pace, languidly flexing his fingers into you at different angles until he hits a spot that makes you gasp. 

“There?” He questions, flexing again, as if to prove a point. 

“There, there, there, fuck, baby-” Your fingers dig into his shoulders, leveraging yourself as you grind into his hand. 

“That’s a good girl, take what you need.” His words are soft in your ear, the praise making you flush as his fingers continue to work the bundle of nerves inside you. 

“Fuck, Joakim, I’m - I’m gonna -” Your voice breaks off into staccato moans as he coaxes you through your orgasm, legs flailing uselessly against his sheets. 

You’re panting as he slips his fingers out of you, only to tug at your underwear until you lay completely bare before him. He nudges your legs apart, confusing you as he drops down to eye level with your soaked core.

“What are you - fuck.” Your question is abruptly cut off by his mouth on your clit, tongue lapping at the bud. Your back arches off the bed as he works his way down to your hole, tongue spearing in and out while his thumb continues to work your clit. Your hands tangle into the roots of his hair, hips canting up desperately as you fuck back into his face. 

“Joakim - I - I can’t -” Guttural moans escape you as you fall over the precipice yet again, thighs quivering as his thumb rubs your clit through the tremors. 

Breathing raggedly, you shove your hair out of your face, sweat collecting on your forehead. You vaguely register the blurry spots in your vision, making everything slightly out of focus. Jolly comes up to look at you, your cum coating him from nose to chin. You don’t hesitate to pull him into a kiss, shuddering as you taste yourself on his lips. 

Your head flops back onto the mattress as he backs away, vision still blurry. 

“You done?” He prods gently. 

“Absolutely not, if you don’t put your dick in me I will die, Joakim Karlsson-” You don’t finish your thought as you both dissolve into giggles. Finally you sit up, crawling over to hover on top of him. “My turn.”

You make quick work of his boxers, resolutely not letting yourself linger on the wet patch that can be seen on the front. His cock springs free, and you do your best not to salivate- failing miserably. “God, it’s prettier than I ever imagined.” You whisper, wonder in your voice. 

Joakim laughs at you again, hands coming up to cover his face. Pretty it is, indeed. A cherry red tip mocks you, capping off a sizable length, veins protruding down the underside. Dark curls nestle around the base, not a full bush, but far from bare. You want it in your mouth, nay- in your esophagus. 

You don’t realize you voice your thoughts out loud until Jolly roars with laughter, head thrown back as he cackles. 

Pouting until he catches your expression, his laughter dying down to a smile. “By all means, don’t let me stop you from reaching your dreams.” He gestures to himself as he speaks. 

You sniff haughtily, grabbing the girth and giving it a few experimental strokes. A soft sigh leaves the man’s mouth at your movements, body relaxing into the bed. Leaning forward enough to pop the tip into your mouth, you suckle softly, experimentally. A hand comes up to pet your hair, a light grip settling in your roots. You take more of him, breathing deeply through your nose as your mouth works its way down his shaft, pulling back slowly. Pushing yourself down again, you only stop when your nose is tickled by the curly hairs at the base.

“Fuck, baby, so good for me…” Jolly’s eyes are glued to you as you slide off, taking him deeply again, repeating the actions until his grip in your hair tightens. You find a rhythm quickly, spit dripping down your chin as you work him.

“Älskling, I don’t want to cum like this-” His words made you slow until you slip off with a loud pop. He sighs at the loss. “One day- when I have a whole lot more self control than I do now- I’m gonna fuck your face until my cum leaks out of the sides of your mouth.”

Your brain goes foggy at such a prospect, unable to form a coherent sentence. Huffing a laugh at your expression, he flips you both over so that you are back underneath him. One hand shoots out to his bedside table, rummaging around until he procures a condom. He tears it open with his teeth, sliding it on with practiced hands. 

“You ready?” He checks one last time, and you know with certainty that he would stop right now if you told him to. 

It’s what gives you the comfort to whine in response.

“Yes, please, come on-” Your sentence breaks off with a gasp as he enters you slowly, your already-sensitive hole stretching to accommodate his size. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, slowly working you open. “Joakim, please, I want- I want it deep.”

You hear a sharp intake of breath, then he all but folds you in half as your legs are pushed up to rest on his shoulders. He bottoms out in one fluid motion, a feeling that has your eyes rolling up into your skull as you hands grasp at his arms. 

His pace is unrelenting, unforgiving as he fucks into you. You’re babbling incoherently, a mixture of moans and “fuck, Joakim” filling the air. He leans over further, somehow pushing even deeper into you.

“Does my girl like that? Is she getting fucked deep enough?” You can hear the need in his voice, and distantly, you think he might feel as fucked-out as you do.

“I- I-” You couldn’t string together words if your life depended on it. 

He places a kiss on your jaw, an action that would be tender had he not been fucking you so thoroughly. Your climax approaches you like a freight train, until you’re clawing at Jolly- arms, back, whatever you could reach. 

“Joakim, I’m gonna cum, I can’t-” Your words are cut off by a gargled moan.

“Good girl, cum for me, milk my cock pretty girl.” He groans, face buried in the side of your neck.

That’s all it takes to finish you off, back arching clean off the bed as you come in spurts, legs shaking as Jolly fucks you through your third orgasm. 

He comes shortly after, hands tightening almost painfully on your hips as his pelvis grinds into you. Pulling out with a final huff, he collapses onto the bed next to you. 

You curl up into his chest instinctively, breathing in his familiar scent. He places a kiss on top of your head, chest still heaving with labored breaths. A hand strokes your back lazily, tracing patterns, playing different imaginary notes on nonexistent frets.

Mind wandering, you consider what this means for the dynamic between the two of you. You always assumed your feelings were one-sided, but are now reconsidering that in light of the last hour. 

Jolly isn’t the sort to keep a “Friend With Benefits,” based on conversations you’ve had with him in the past. You certainly aren’t the person to casually sleep with people, though you have no problem if others do. There were just too many feelings tangled up with sex for you to be able to separate them, and you thought Jolly functioned the same way.

Thought, that is. People can change their mind, maybe he doesn’t want anything serious right now. You try not to frown when considering this could be a one-time occurance, or worse, a casual arrangement. 

He’s been open with you all afternoon, though, so why not ask?

Finally, you speak up. “So, what does this make us?”

“What do you want us to be?” Comes his reply, calm but open. You think you can hear him grinning, damn him.  

“That is such a cop-out, Jolly, come on now.” You definitely don’t pout at him.

He shakes with silent laughter. Bastard. “Ideally? I’m thinking a fall wedding, maybe 3 kids, I really like the name ‘Axel,’ but I’m willing to hear your ideas too-”

You slap his chest playfully, all of your worry dissipating as he spoke. “I meant moreso ‘exclusive’ and ‘official.’”

How frowns at you dramatically. “What is not ‘official’ or ‘exclusive’ about 3 beautiful children together? Is this an American thing-”

“Shut up.” You cut him off with a kiss, noses remaining pressed together as you pull away. “Since you’re being so difficult, you’re my boyfriend now, and you have no say in the matter.” 

He grins, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I guess I could learn to love that.” 

You’re about to reply when the front door slams shut. ���Sorry guys, the taco place was stupid fucking busy, we- hey, where’d they go?” Comes Noah’s voice, faint. 

“You said not to do anything nasty on the couch.” Nick reminds him helpfully, sounding like he already has half a taco in his mouth. 

You can practically hear Noah shuddering in horror. “That is disgusting- hey! If you can hear me, y’all are nasty-” 

“There’s tacos whenever you kids are done!” Nicholas chimes in.

[infantdisposal]

Diamonds In The Rough || Part 1: And Suddenly, All Love Songs Were About Her || Butch!Human!Applejack x Femme!Human!Rarity

CW: none

Rating: SFW

Desc: Applejack meets a city girl named Rarity who is looking for a horse, Applejack turns her away and is filled with regret shortly after.

Author's Note: This is the first part of a RariJack series I plan on making, so don't be too disappointed by the lack of romance here! All parts can be found with my #diamonds in the rough tag on my profile!

Pings: @a-little-birdie-told-me14

Like this fic? Reblogs > likes, though both are appreciated!

Applejack groaned as the first rays of sunlight shone through her bedroom window. She threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Stretching, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and trudged to the bathroom.

Standing at the sink, she brushed her teeth with a worn toothbrush and ran a comb through her tangled blonde hair. Her reflection stared back at her, plain, just the way she liked it. Applejack never put much thought into her appearance, there wasn’t much point when you spent most of your days covered in dirt and sweat. She tugged on her usual outfit, a plaid button-up shirt, faded jeans secured with a large-buckled belt, and her favorite cowboy boots.

After tossing her hat onto her head, she made her way downstairs. The aroma of freshly baked biscuits greeted her as she entered the kitchen.

"Mornin’, Granny,” Her country accent rang thick with tire.

Granny Smith, seated at the table peeling apples for a pie, looked up with a warm smile. “Mornin’, darlin’. Don’t forget yer breakfast before ya head out.”

“I’ll grab somethin’ later. Got work ta do,” Applejack replied, kissing her grandmother on the cheek before heading out the door.

Outside, the morning air carried the scent of hay and apples. Her brother, Big Mac, was already at work loading hay bales onto the old truck.

“Mornin’, brother,” she called, grabbing a pair of gloves.

“Eeyup,” he replied, tipping his head in acknowledgment.

The day passed in its usual rhythm, picking apples from the trees, herding the cows back into the barn, and stacking bales of hay. All the while, Applejack had her favorite playlist playing through her earphones, a mix of country and folk that kept her spirits up.

She was just about to take a break when the rumble of tires on gravel caught her attention. Applejack straightened up, narrowing her eyes as she spotted a sleek white car rolling into the driveway.

“What in tarnation?” she muttered. Big Mac looked over too, his brow raising curiously.

The car came to a stop, and the door swung open. Out stepped a tall, slim woman with ivory skin and perfectly styled purple ringlets. She was dressed beautifully in a white skirt and jacket combo over a black blouse, her outfit completed with sparkling diamond jewelry and heels that looked utterly impractical on a farm.

Applejack let out a scoff. “What could a prissy little gal like her want with our ranch?”

She turned back to her work, dismissing the visitor as some lost city girl, until the sharp sound of snapping fingers made her stop.

“Excuse me?” The woman called out in a monotone, almost demanding, voice. “Big girl, hello?”

Applejack turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as she walked over to the fence. She leaned against it casually, crossing her arms, a strained smile spread across her face.

“And what can I do for ya, princess?” she asked, her drawl dripping with sarcasm.

The woman, unfazed, adjusted her sunglasses and straightened her posture. “The name’s Rarity. I need a horse.”

Applejack raised a brow. “A horse? And what exactly do ya know ’bout takin’ care of one?”

“Not much,” Rarity admitted with a wave of her manicured hand. “But my niece wants one for her birthday, and what my niece wants, she gets.”

Applejack snorted, her eyes rolling. “Figures. Well, let me tell ya somethin’, Miss Fancy-Pants. Horses ain’t toys. They’re livin’, breathin’ creatures. You don’t just go around handin’ ’em out like gifts.”

“Fine,” Rarity snapped, her tone icy. “I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

“Good luck with that,” Applejack muttered, turning back to her work.

As Rarity’s car roared out of the driveway, Applejack shook her head. “Rarity, huh? What a dumb name,” she mumbled under her breath.

But later that night, as Applejack lay in bed listening to her favorite tunes, her thoughts kept drifting back to the elegant stranger. Her sharp voice, her demeanor, and the way her presence had stirred something in Applejack that she couldn’t quite place.

“Hate,” Applejack told herself firmly. “It’s gotta be hate.”

But deep down, she wasn’t so sure.

[tinytalkingtina]

Born to Run

Part 1 of Running with the Devil, a Steddie role reversal series

4k words | Rating: E

Tags/CW: Role reversal no upside down AU with some canon divergence, Jock/Track Star!Eddie, Metalhead/drug dealer!Steve, appalachian Eddie, confident bisexual Steve, Eddie has a sexuality crisis but is in denial, Eddie's sleeping mind decides to take matters into its own hands, wet dream (contains spanking and public humiliation), running of both the literal and metaphorical kind, child abuse referenced indirectly (physical beatings that happened in the past)

Read now on Ao3, and be sure to read @little-annie's Part 2 from Steve's POV, "Metal Health will Drive you Mad"

The sex dream within this fic is brought to you by the Week 4 prompt "slap" of the @steddiesmuttyseptember event

Eddie was always a runner. If you asked Wayne, he apparently skipped straight from crawling to toddling around as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. When he got older, it was a release valve, for everything and anything shitty in his life.

He didn’t have to think about his mom pulling a disappearing act, or his dad getting himself arrested (again). The world would narrow until the only sounds he could hear were the rushing in his ears and the smack of his sneakers on pavement.

Running had brought him to where he was now, as he clawed his way up the proverbial high school ranks. Anyone at this party would look at him and only see the triumphant senior captain of the track team, fresh off a successful meet. Every keg stand, every heroic retelling of a close race, every sloppy makeout session with a cheerleader, kept the attention on the Eddie of the present. 

No one needed to remember the wide-eyed weirdo with patched baggy clothes, nearly ten when his classmates would only turn nine that year.

All around him, the crowd ebbed and flowed between the alcohol and the bonfire, the flickering flames and shadows making it hard to tell who was who. Someone stumbled into Eddie, breaking him out of his brooding.

“Whoops, sorry Eddie! Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later.” Before he could say anything, the giggling cheerleader pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. (He knew he went on a date with her about a month ago, but her name eluded him. Tina, maybe, or Vicki?)

He forced a grin back. “Of course you didn’t mean it sugar. Gonna hold you to that ‘kay?”

The girl possibly named Tina swooned at the tiny bit of accent he'd carefully slipped in. Just a touch could be charming to the fine folks of the Midwest, even if what he ended up using was way less Appalachian hick and more refined Southern gentleman than his momma's family had ever spoken in their lives.

As soon as her back was turned, he let the smile slide off. His post-meet high wore off too quickly tonight, and it left him well, twitchy.

An arm slung itself over his shoulder. "Ed my man, this party is wild! Your best work yet dude." Tommy grinned at him, already drunk. Neither of them commented on how close Tommy was pressing himself into Eddie. Or how Eddie wasn't quite moving away. But then again, the two of them had perfected the art of leaving things unsaid after what happened sophomore year, how close they had come to—no.

"Heh, yeah. Hey, where's Carol? She's gonna be pissed you abandoned her."

"Please, Carol's fine. She's busy talking with Lisa Carmichael. Speaking of which, she's really into you. Come on, get your dick wet, you deserve it after that 800 meter. We're fucking going to states!" His last sentence was said much louder, and a chorus of cheers and whoops predictably echoed back from celebratory partygoers. The twitchiness grew.

"I dunno man, not really feeling it tonight." Eddie tried to subtly back up a little bit, but Tommy just swayed forward into his space again.

“Trust me, you won’t be feeling like that when you're balls deep in a nice tight—"

"Tommy will you just fucking stop? What's with your obsession with my dick huh?"

A look of fear and hurt flashed across Tommy's face for a second, before it was replaced with a scowl. Fuck that was the wrong thing to say and danced way too close to the thoughts about—nope, they were not gonna talk about that.

Eddie carefully pat Tommy on the shoulder instead of thinking. "Shit sorry, it's fine, you're just looking out for me, right? I appreciate it, just not uh, really in the partying mood for some reason." 

Tommy managed to recover his grin. "Oh, duh, why didn't you say so? That fucking freak Harrington finally showed up about thirty minutes ago. Sure he's got something that'll make you unwind a bit. Here, have one on me.”

Eddie wanted to snap that he didn’t need pity money. He got the kegs supplied just fine on his own, hadn’t he? But Tommy was still holding himself tensely several steps away. Tommy, who in sixth grade biked over every other day even after his parents had told him to stay away from the trailer park. Who “accidentally” always had a second pudding cup tucked in with his lunch for sharing. Whose summertime freckles were just starting to fade but Eddie knew still trailed down all the way to his—. 

Besides, maybe weed would take the edge off whatever ugly thing kept rearing its insistent head inside him tonight. Help him forget about the looming pressures of the future and the things he wasn’t going to think about, help him feel normal again.

“Thanks Tommy, I’ll try and relax.” Eddie grabbed the money and set off down the path towards Skull Rock, where Harrington always held court. The chill wind rustling through the trees was a welcome respite to his overheated skin.

The walk over to the next clearing was only a few minutes, but by the time Eddie came upon it, the thrum of bass and general teenage debauchery had faded into a low murmur.

Instead, Skull Rock reverberated with the sound of tapping and gentle humming. Eddie’s heart picked up a little.

Steve Harrington made him nervous. It wasn’t necessarily how loud the guy was. Eddie could understand the need to fill a room up. He could vaguely remember a quieter pre-pubescent Harrington before his dramatic transformation, dressed in tiny polos and khakis and halfheartedly kicking around a soccer ball. Now, his entire wardrobe consisted solely of black and red accented with flashy gold rings. The thick combat boots he wore constantly made him tower over everyone else, and the ever-growing collection of tattoos scattered on his body thoroughly scandalized each and every teacher. What they all meant was a perennial topic of discussion amongst the student body.

A voice echoed down from one of the boulders: “Oh hey, look who showed up, it’s Eddie Munson himself! Heard from your sidekick Hagan you’re the reason Hawkins is going to States.”

Steve was stretched out, lounging on the top of the rock, a pair of drumsticks held loosely in one hand.

“Yup, we are. First time in five years actually.” The state championships. There would be college recruiters there, and with them the promise of scholarships that’d get him out of this town. Somewhere far away from the looming threat of the plant bending his back prematurely like it had Wayne’s. Somewhere no one had heard the name of Al Munson.

“Well then.” Steve practically purred as he smoothly jumped down to the ground. He gave his drumsticks a twirl before stashing them in his pocket. “You sure got ‘em, didn’t you Tiger.”

Yeah, there it was. Seemed like sometimes, Harrington could see right through him, like he knew about how his thoughts occasionally strayed to—nope.

Eddie crossed his arms and tried to keep his face neutral. “Uh-huh.”

“Don’t you know it’s polite to thank someone when they compliment you?” Steve’s eyes sparkled with amusement. The fucker was toying with him. Worse, he was enjoying it.

Summoning every ounce of cockiness he possessed, Eddie stood up straight. Sure, this close Harrington had several inches on him, but it didn’t matter. Only one of them could throw the party of the year, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the unpopular weirdo in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be the one thanking me? I let you sell your shit at my party.”

“Got a mouth on you, don’t you.” Steve smirked. “Tell me Munson, what’s stopping me from taking my goodies to, say, the basketball team’s next rager and skipping out on your little get together entirely? Don’t have to dirty my shoes at their parties. They choose to host at a house.”

Eddie gritted his teeth. “Hey fuck you man, not all of us have—”

“Didn’t say I minded,” Steve plowed on, interrupting him. “Maybe I like the fresh air and the…view. Just like to enjoy them peacefully.” He stood there with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

Eddie could feel his face flushing but he held his ground. “Never stopped you from helping yourself to our beer.”

“Free shitty beer, just what I look forward to.” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I gotta say, wasn’t really expecting you to come here. Don’t you usually send someone else to get your fix?”

Eddie shrugged. “Needed a change. And we both know you overcharge Tommy.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” Steve barked out a laugh. “But he deserves the asshole tax. Just weed for you tonight? There’s all kinds of ways to unwind if your usual methods are leaving you…unsatisfied there Munson.”

Vividly, Eddie was reminded of the graffiti scribbled on the walls above the urinals near the gym: Score a touchdown, then score with SH. More often than not, Steve could be found spectating the games, quietly dealing underneath the bleachers. On occasion, one girl or another could be seen emerging from underneath and brushing dirt off her skirt. But there was that other rumor, one that no guy would ever admit to having personal experience with. That if you won, Harrington would give anyone weed for free if they got on their knees for him and—woah there. What was wrong with him tonight?

“Th-think the weed is jus’ fine, ain’t lookin’ for much else.” he stammered out. Shit, why did his accent have to slip now of all times? “I mean, weed is all I need. Those fucking pricks from Greencastle got under my skin.” Assholes thought they were so big, mocking his out of style sneakers. Those shoes hadn't stopped him from shaving half a second off the regional record, but he couldn't help but still feel the barbs from their insults lodged under his skin, festering.

Steve cocked his head as he stared at Eddie with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally he broke into a disarming smile. Eddie couldn’t remember ever seeing Steve sincerely express happiness, at least not from this distance. He would have remembered how prett—how his eyes lit up.

“I’m in a band you know. Pierced Scepter. We play down at this shitty dive bar and yeah, usually it’s a crowd of four drunks and the bartender, but it doesn’t matter. Being on any stage is…fuck it’s awesome. But sometimes it’s a little too much to just pack it all up right after. So I come out here to scream my head off, get it all out. Better off terrorizing the birds than picking fights when my parents are around.” Steve unconsciously rubbed his palm as he laughed humorlessly. “Saves on the screaming matches at home and the. Well.”

“Didn’t realize rich folks got their own hands dirty like that.” Carol’s parents had left the task of punishment to her nanny, preferring to swoop in with carrots after the stick had been administered.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure my dad would say something about how ‘real men are responsible for disciplining their kids so they don’t get soft.’ Though what he considers ‘soft’ changes a lot based on his mood. And whether he’s wearing a belt or suspenders that day.”

“G-d, who knew our dads have something in common then?” Eddie snorted. “Never could keep my old man happy, was always doing something wrong. He took the belt to me so often in third grade I barely could sit down the whole year.” His first time in third grade anyway, the one before he was whisked away to the safe haven of Wayne’s trailer.

“And…I have absolutely no idea why I told you that.” He barely talked about his dad to Tommy and Carol for crying out loud. On visitor’s days he always made up some lie about why he and Wayne were driving close to the state penitentiary.

Steve let out a weird little braying bark of a laugh and shuffled his feet. “Right, you didn’t come here to cry over our daddy issues. Gimme a sec to get your stuff.” Steve reached behind to grab the lunchbox he carried his goods around in. As he did, his jacket slid open enough to show the exposed line of his clavicle above the low-cut collar of his tee. Eddie swallowed hard. Against his will, his eyes dipped lower, noticing a design over the top of his pec in black ink. Oh, a new tattoo.

Eddie squinted trying to make out what it was. “It’s been a while since you gave O’Donnell a reason to lecture us on the ‘decaying morality of the modern day.’ Is that a two headed monkey?”

Delight flickered over Steve’s face. “This? Yeah, it’s new. Supposed to be Demogorgon, the ‘Prince of Demons.’” At Eddie’s blank look he chuckled. “He’s a monster from Dungeons and Dragons, you know, the fantasy game we play in Hellfire Club. It was the final battle of a months long campaign and our characters were trying to escape Demogorgon’s lair. Most of the party was close to death, but at a chokepoint, my character took a last stand and gave the others enough time to escape. Everyone else got out, even if the bastard got me in the end. So, I got this as a tribute to my character's sacrifice.”

Eddie spoke without thinking. “Oh, that’s kind of similar to what Gandalf did: facing off against the Balrog to save the rest of the Fellowship.”

Forget fleeting glimpses of real smiles. The look of surprise Steve gave him was almost comically out of place on his face. “You’ve read Lord of the Rings?”

“While ago, yeah. The Hobbit too.” Back when he first moved in with Wayne, the man had found an absolutely beautiful illustrated set at a rummage sale. Eddie smiled to himself, remembering how excited he’d been to get his first real present ever. “Spent a whole summer running around during the day, then staying up way too late reading all night. My uncle had to confiscate my flashlight eventually.”

A snort from Steve jolted Eddie out of his memories as he realized who he was talking to. “Don’t tell anyone that Harrington, or else,” he ordered as he flushed for the second time that evening, “The rest of your dorky club of nerds better not start bothering me in the hallway just because I’ve read Tolkien. Not going to step in to save them if they forget their place.”

Steve’s expression shuttered as he stood upright. “Right, wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation with the rest of your jock buddies.” Eddie was taken aback by the bitterness in Steve’s voice. “They might explode if you admit to having interests beyond banging chicks, sports magazines, and beer. Your secret’s safe with me. After all, who’s going to believe the Freakshow? Here.” He shoved a baggie in Eddie’s face. “That should be enough for about a week. Now get lost before I double the price.”

Eddie opened his mouth to apologize. But the artificial sneer on Steve’s face made him lose his nerve. He just held out his money as he snatched away the weed. “Thanks, uh, have a good night Harrington. Help yourself to something from the kegs.” He almost made it to the edge of the trees before Steve’s voice called out to him: “Hey, Munson!” 

He froze and turned. Steve had clambered back onto Skull Rock, moonlight and shadows making him look otherworldly and malevolent, towering over the clearing. “Keep that attitude of yours in check next time, or else I might take my services somewhere else. But, if you need more help…unwinding, well. You know where to find me.” That knowing smirk was firmly fixed back in place on his face. 

Eddie couldn’t help it. He finally gave into his impulses and ran.

He didn’t think about those plush lips drawn back into a genuine smile as he quickly navigated back to the party. He didn’t think about those amused eyes seeing right through him as he knocked back a few cups of beer and danced a little with anyone and no one. And he certainly wasn’t thinking about that tattoo surrounded by chest hair as he staggered home to an empty trailer and collapsed into his bed.

“You look so good there, kneeling for me Eddie.” Steve looms over him, those ringed hands on his hips. Eddie realizes he’s naked in the clearing and flushes with embarrassment. When did he take off his clothes?

Any thoughts on how he ended up here are derailed when the wind caresses his body. Oh. Tendrils of air race over his exposed chest and glide over his heavy balls and dripping cock. 

“And look how much you’re enjoying it too.” He’s never been this turned on in his life, and it’s all because of Steve. All for Steve. He’s powerless to prevent a moan from falling out of his mouth. 

“You act so big at school, like you’re the top of the food chain yeah? A real king of the jungle. But you and me, we know better. You’re not a scary tiger at all are you. No, you’re just a cute little kitten.”

Eddie can’t help but whine as he spreads himself wider in invitation.

“Yeah, thought you’d like that.” Steve crooks a finger and gestures for Eddie to follow him. “Come on kitten.” Eddie begins to get up, his legs tingling with pins and needles.

“Mhm, no. I like you better down there. In fact, I think you should crawl.”

He shudders but obeys the sound of that voice, would do anything for it. He stays on all fours as the path unwinds before them, until they come to a door. Eddie moves as fast as he can to follow Steve through, tumbling into the void within. He flails, plummeting until a familiar wax-polished wood rushes up to meet his palms. Eddie doesn’t dare get up from his hands and knees as he lifts his head but-

The gym is filled to the brim. 

Their classmates sit silently, blank looks on their faces as they stare. They’re waiting for something to happen. White hot shame courses through his veins as he desperately tries to cover up.

The voice cuts smoothly through the haze of his embarrassment: “Look at them kitten, they’re all waiting for a show. Let’s give one to them.”

Steve nudges him onto his back. He grabs his wrists and pulls them away from his body, exposing Eddie to the crowd. No! His face is on fire as he tries to fight it, but he can’t seem to break free, his strength sapped away. Steve tightens his hold on his wrists.

“Settle down Eddie, let them see you. You love this.”

He knows Steve is right. He can’t hide how hard his aching cock is, slapping against his belly as he squirms. But he can’t help it, they’ll all know. Faint whispers drift down from the stands as the crowd watches him struggle.

“Please, don’t make me do this,” he begs, but the words get caught in his choked up throat.

“I think you’ve forgotten your place. Maybe you need a reminder that you can’t hide, not from me.”

Steve hauls him up and easily slings him over a shoulder. Eddie lays there limply, frozen and whimpering. He’s unceremoniously dumped on top of a teacher’s desk right at the center line.  Hands come up to squeeze at his nipples, hard. Just the way he does when he’s alone. His cock twitches and drools even more from the groping. 

Eddie blinks, and suddenly the bleachers are that much closer.

“Be happy kitten, all the attention is on you! Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” Oh G-d. Every eye is fixed on him, the buzzing of interest growing louder.

“No, I don’t want this, I don’t want you!” He shouts as loud as he can but the words come out muted and garbled.

Steve barks out a cruel laugh. “God, you’re pathetic. But then you’ve always been so good at lying to yourself haven’t you? You were the one who kissed Tommy, not the other way around. But when he went in for more, you pushed him off and ran away.”

Through the blur of tears, he can just make out Tommy’s face in the crowd, wearing the same accusatory and hurt look he had two years ago.

Steve leans down to nibble at his ear. “And,” he whispers, his voice silky smooth. “Let’s not forget how in the back of your head you imagine me shoving you against a locker and making you take it. Or sometimes, I threaten you with my knife a little out in the woods, yeah?”

Without warning, Eddie is manhandled over Steve’s lap. “Good news, guess today’s your lucky day kitten. I’m going to make you take it until you admit to everyone what you really want.”

SMACK!

The first slap to his ass sounds loudly, echoing around the gym. Eddie nearly swallows his tongue trying to keep quiet. The spectators in the stands let out a gasp for him.

But Steve doesn’t stop there. He keeps going, until Eddie feels like his ass is on fire.

He finds himself pleading for Steve to have mercy, slipping back into the accent he tries so hard to keep a lid on normally.

“Ha, there he is, finally. You can dress yourself up in a varsity jacket all you want, but we all know what you really are. Just a piece of trailer trash. You can’t run from this you dumb hick. Tell me what I want to hear.”

Eddie shakes his head. He can’t. “Fine, then take your punishment.”

Smack after smack rains down on his ass. The pain builds and builds, and the crowd gets louder and louder. But underneath the humiliation, he remains hard and grows even more desperate. Every slap sends him thrusting, his cock trapped between Steve’s muscular thighs. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ha! And you jocks call me the freak. You’re the one humping my leg and yowling like you’re in heat. Pain turn you on kitten?”

That’s all it takes to push him over the edge. 

He cums to the sound of cheers.

Eddie woke with a jolt and a gasp, his whole body pulsing in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced. 

Trembling, he curled up into a ball and let the tears fall. This was nothing, just a passing thought his brain had gotten attached to. All he had to do was survive the year, and then he could be finally free of Hawkins, and the living ghosts that haunted him.

If only that had been the last time he dreamed of Steve Harrington.

Two weeks later, Eddie woke with a fuzzy head and even fuzzier memories of the night before, vaguely remembering a ringed hand stroking his hair. On his nightstand was a glass of water, some Tylenol, and a note from SH telling him to take it easy. 

After that his dreams changed. Sometimes he wasn’t humiliated at all, and those tattooed arms kept him safe and cared for. It felt worse almost, to have his subconscious offer up such happiness, only to snatch it away when he woke to an empty bed. He didn’t dare spend the night in the arms of a girl at her house, worried he’d reveal himself for the freak he was.

A full month of torment and countless hours of lost slumber later, Eddie finally had had enough. He grabbed his keys and tore off in the direction of Steve's house, praying that Carol wouldn't see his van in her neighbor's driveway at this time of night.

As he rang the doorbell, he didn’t know what to expect. But it certainly wasn’t the sight of a sleep rumpled Steve answering the door in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Somehow, seeing his bare hands felt more intimate than the lack of shirt did.

“Munson? Gave me a heart attack, thought my parents were back a day early. What are you—”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupted, wide-eyed and feeling slightly crazed. “Can we talk?”

Ao3 link

It's finally here! This began life as a brain worm that Annie and I have turned into a whole fully expanded universe. We can't wait to write more with these two :D

Tagging a few folks who showed interest in the original Wiggly Wednesday post (but please feel free to ignore): @eyesofshinigami @augustjustice @griefabyss69 @hairstevington

@dreamy-jeans137 @eriquin @hbyrde36 @hotluncheddie

Thank you to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the runner divider!

[cruesuffix]

Mick Mars Tattoo Tour

A criminally insane look into all the tattoos mick has, along with estimated guesses on when he got them. and because we’re once again losing the plot on the mick mars tag… an entirely too insane look into my mick brainrot. this is a two parter so this is the first post!

to begin, we’ll start with ‘83 (aka when i think he stared getting his tattoos) UPDATE: they all got this one done in may of ‘84 actually!!

as you can see, he’s most likely getting the mc tattoo that the entire band got together around ‘82. I think they even brought their tattoo artist out with them when they went on tour, just to get these tattoos. i wouldn’t say this was his first tattoo cause i suspect he got the forearm tattoo first!

according to kevin brady who designed this (along with other crue tatts), this is a guitar, skeleton, and flaming axe- backed by a crossed axe and a saber. i do think he got this right forearm tattoo around ‘83 cause i can’t really find any pics of it from ‘81-82. (first photo is around ‘81 (at least i think so) and as you can see his forearm looks pretty bare!) i do think he got the forearm tattoo before the motley tattoo but i can’t really prove that tbh…

(update: while chroncrue lists the date mick got his first tattoo as somewhere in may of ‘82, they mixed up what tattoo it was. he didn’t get the scorpion tattoo until much later, so that leads me to believe he got the skull guitar first before the motley tattoo.)

so… we skip right along to ‘86

yes, the right pic is from ‘86. this looks like it was around the time they filmed the uncensored video. of course, he got a tattoo of the bands mascot, allister fiend. i’m not sure if he had that tattoo in the video as well and i might have to rewatch it to see if i can see it. his hand doesn’t have the scorpion tattoo so i don’t think he got that one at this point, but im sure he got it a bit after this either way so it counts for both imo. so, he gets the second forearm tattoo around ‘86 and then the scorpion probably closer to the recording of the girls album.

then, things actually got a bit complicated for me and i really had to search through my archives for these:

i didn’t choose the best photos for these ones but i promise you this is true. he got the skull crossbone during the decade of decadence era and… to be honest, i thought he got it during the self titled era! i was going to spread my own misinfo on this site and wow… thank god i did a bit more searching!

from this, we go to ‘94, where he got that weird blocky tribal thing… i can’t explain it but you’ll see as we go further.

(update: chroncrue says the entire band got a “til death do us part” tattoo around ‘92-93 (the og title of self titled) but… i don’t see any of them have a tattoo like that (that i know of), especially mick. so im not sure that’s 100% true. unless it is and im the liar here… i’ll have to do some extra research. anyways chroncrue says mick got his tattoo on his upper left arm, though these pics are very much focusing on his right arm but… i don’t know. im trying here folks!!)

update on the update: i actually think chroncrue was right. it does look like it’s says ‘til death do us part’ im shocked. im so dumb i thought it was just weird blocky things, no those are words Lily! ok so they were right. in like ‘93-ish he got their first album name for self titled tattooed on his left(??) upper arm. the entire band did actually.

alright, seeing as though i just hit my limit… i’ll have to make another post. this was really fun to make, also it just gave me an excuse to look at pics of him in my archive! see you in the next post!!

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by a buncha folks for fuck it Friday! Thanks @devirnis @butchdiaz @anxieteandbiscuits @alyxmastershipper @rewritetheending! I’ll post scraps form a few things…

Their first actual interaction in nurse Eddie au

In bed eight there are blue eyes and a birthmark and Eddie says “Buck,” out loud, because he’s an idiot.

“Do I… know you?” Buckley (Eddie seeks safety in the formality of a last name) tilts his head a little, eyes searching Eddie’s face for familiarity.

Saying something like You’re usually unconscious when we meet would be creepy, probably. Sometimes I feel like you're my dead wife doesn't even make sense, Eddie can't even explain it to himself. Shannon died and you didn't sounds too accusatory, and he's not sure if he wants to mean it that way or not. You saved my son's life except Eddie still isn't thinking about that, is still actively trying to forget. So Eddie says “I’ve seen you in here before,” like that explains a nickname he has no right to know.

Some sap from take you in and make you mine chapter two

Bed head, all sticking over everywhere. Buck will touch his hair, later, Eddie will let him touch his hair. Loose gray LAFD shirt, possibly Buck’s, one of the ones without a name printed over it. Buck spends a few minutes fascinated by the way the fabric folds around warm skin that maybe Eddie will let him touch later, too. Boxers, sweatpants shed for being too warm. Buck should check for fever, maybe, make sure he’s recovering okay, but his arm and hand and ankle don’t feel overly hot. He doesn’t have any blanket on him, either, it mostly migrated onto Buck in the night, and then mostly left him behind as well to rest half on the floor. He’s breathing steady, back rising and falling slowly with it. Buck glances at the bedside table. It’s early, not even 6 yet, though the room is already halfway sunny here at the height of summer. There’s one granola bar wrapper and a mostly drained water bottle from when he’d woken up starving and parched in the middle of the night, but the others remain untouched. At least that means Eddie slept through the night, probably. Rest is good, important for recovery. There’s a little twitch of pressure on his hand and Buck turns back over to watch Eddie come awake.

He does it in stages. First he holds Buck’s hand tighter (Buck hides his face in the pillow for a moment, burying his smile), then makes a grunt so annoyed and dad-like that Buck has to bite his tongue not to laugh. Then his head starts to move, looking around at the room before finally dragging his face across the pillow to blink at Buck. He looks tired, and ruffled, and beautiful.

And here’s Shannon and Eddie coming out to each other from quilt shop au

Christopher wanders towards the yarn shelves and Shannon turns to him, scratching a nail along the outer seam of her jeans the way she always has when she’s nervous. “I know I usually have him Saturdays but I was wondering if you’d be willing to- watch him, or swap days, or- or I could drop him off in the afternoon, maybe?”

“Uh-“ Buck is coming in on Saturday, Eddie was going to show him how the long arm works so he doesn’t have to keep rolling up whatever secretive larger project he’s been working on to fit in his little domestic machine. But Shannon is not generally a worried person, these days, and Eddie doesn’t like the way she can’t quite make eye contact. “He’ll have to hang out here for a while, but yeah, of course. What’s up?”

“I…” She glances at him, glances away again. Eddie keeps folding the pile of fabric on the cutting table, keeping his movements steady and calm, and she watches the slide of the colors and patterns for a minute before she takes a deep breath. “I have a date.”

Eddie makes a sound something like Oh, but without really forming the word. It’s been awhile. Shannon had tried dating much quicker and much more frequently than Eddie had after they’d split. Jealousy only lasted so long- Shannon is still one of the loves of his life, even if that love isn’t what he thought it was when he was 18 and she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Eddie had sunk into the role of supportive best friend with a kind of relief he thinks nobody looked at too closely, and he’d been the shoulder she cried on when things didn’t work out, and the last few times things hadn’t worked out so spectacularly that as far as he’s known she’d been single for going on a year. “Who’s the new guy?”

Shannon makes determined eye contact, and her voice shakes only a little. “New girl, actually.”

Eddie absolutely cannot help the startled laugh that knocks out of him. It’s not funny, fuck it’s not funny, and her face is pinching up in embarrassed anger that he feels terrible about, but- it’s just kind of funny, is all.

“Jesus- Fuck you, Eddie-“

“No! No, no,” he catches her hand and waist as she spins away, like how they used to dance, like how they still dance, sometimes, when they find a bar with a hoedown night or when they’re lonely in this city that can feel so far away from where they grew up. “Shannon, no, it’s not-“ He remembers the last time she’d had her heart broken, how he’d held her on his abuela’s couch as she’d asked What’s wrong with me? and Why do I never feel right? and he hadn’t had any answers for her because they were questions he tried not to ask about himself. He laughs again, helplessly, and she looks more confused than angry and Eddie wants to spin her around and around because finally, maybe they both finally- “There’s a boy,” he says, and her eyes get wider. “And he’s tall, and he’s got blue eyes, and- and I love you so much but, baby, I don’t think we were ever going to work out.”

And then she laughs too, throwing her head back with it like Christopher does. “You’re- you’re fucking with me.”

“I’m really not,” he says, face aching with the smile splitting it in half.

@shortsighted-owl @bigfootsmom @rogerzsteven @kitkatpancakestack @burins @ anyone else who has stuff to share!

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Hydra Sanatorium"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word count: 5112

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dub con everything due to a/b/o biology, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30), omorashi

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty.

Steve's been developing too much of an attachment, he knows he has. But he might not have the self control to remain detached anymore.

A/N: This fic contains heavy medical kink, diapers/wetting, and a/b/o dub-con shenanigans. Consume Responsibly.

Wait! I think I missed a previous chapter! Series Masterlist

Chapter 5: Excited Catatonia with Aggression

It takes a while longer for Bucky to calm down, shuddering and shivering in Steve’s arms.

This session has been a big deal for the poor kid, since he’s been denied for so long. Omegas don’t do well when they don’t get release regularly. And Steve’s pretty sure that not only is Bucky sobbing because of that, but also because he’s likely been touch and sensory-starved at home as well. Who even knows the last time the boy was hugged, outside of a stay on-ward?

It is, unfortunately, going to be time to tell him about his family situation soon. Steve knows that if he doesn’t bite the bullet tonight, then his boss will do it for him tomorrow. And that won’t increase her confidence in Steve’s impartiality any. Steve could almost stomach her ire, but the part where Christina would be the one breaking the news to Bucky that his folks don’t want him is what sways Steve.

The kid deserves better than Doctor Raynor’s notoriously blunt demeanor. Christina doesn’t do it on purpose, but she’s ex-military and that’s very, very apparent in the way she approaches people. There’s a reason why she has a PhD and not an MD after her name. Raynor is much better suited to managing employees and administrative duties than she is dealing with patients … She tends to make them cry.

It’ll be much easier on Bucky if Steve is the one to tell him.

Still, after watching him come apart in his lap so beautifully, Steve has to pause a few times to steel himself for this conversation. “Well,” he says, trying to think of something else to help put the omega in a good mood. “You earned your reward. Been good all day. You want to take the cath out now?”

Bucky sits back with wide eyes. “Really?” he says, brightening. “Yeah! Can we?”

“We sure can, Sweetheart.” Steve kisses his cheek. “Good boys get nice things.” Bucky blushes, and Steve chuckles about it as he swaps out to a new pair of latex gloves. “Okay, bear with me here.”

It’s a simple process. All Steve has to do is use safety scissors to snip the inflation valve off the tubing, and a second later Bucky’s making a tiny noise of surprise, and the small amount of saline liquid that’d filled the balloon comes dribbling out. “Oohh,” he sighs, relieved. “Oh God. Thank you. Fuck, that was so annoying!”

Steve hums sympathetically. “I can imagine.” Having an object in one’s bladder giving the constant urge to pee doesn’t sound like a good time to him, either. But that’s why it’s one of the consequences that Hydra utilizes. It’s a way to help combative patients accept that they’re no longer in control of their bodies. “Bet you’re not gonna give me trouble on your diapering anymore, huh?”

Bucky grumbles and tucks his head down. “Mmn.”

Steve’s lips twitch fondly. “I’ll pull it out now,” he warns. The first few times that they’d had to cath Bucky, he’d been a crying, resisting mess, but after three years of coming in and out of the ward, he knows the drill. Steve gets enough lube to coat the head of his cock, being sure to slip some all around the tube and push it into his slit as much as possible. “Mmkay. Relax your muscles. Annnd deep breath.” Bucky inhales, and Steve slides the catheter out.

“Ugh.”

“All done.” He tosses it in the medical waste bin. “Good job.”

Bucky exhales hugely, eyelids fluttering. He looks down at himself, and flushes when he sees that his penis has dribbled a little more in Steve’s lap. “Sorry,” he mumbles, and Steve shushes him.

“S’okay. It happens.” They both know that Bucky’s bladder control won’t return to normal for a couple of days, which is to be expected. Bucky seems self-conscious of having wet on him though, no matter how miniscule the amount. So Steve reiterates how it doesn’t bother him, even taking Bucky’s hand in his and pressing their joined hands to the wet patch that’s right at the waistband of his scrub pants. Bucky blushes massively, but his scent radiates comfort, which is the goal. “You’re a good boy, Bucky,” Steve tells him in his best soothing rumble, then just keeps talking at him like that, because it clearly helps Bucky to calm down and be happy.

Steve’s dick is mighty happy, too, though he’s dead set on ignoring it. It’s not like it’s unusual for him to get aroused in-session with patients. It happens. … But it happens a lot more frequently with Bucky than with anybody else. Steve’s been aroused ever since he first got into the double-sit chair with Bucky, and half hard since he started fingering him. Things are a little more pronounced now, and he knows his erection is obvious. It’s approaching a full-on boner, though thankfully still angled down and towards the crease of his thigh. His compression underwear are doing an admirable job of keeping things contained, but it’s still a thick and obvious shape under the pale green of his scrubs. “Um,” he says stupidly, seeing their entwined fingers so close to it. He hastily releases Bucky’s hand.

Over the years at this job, Steve’s gotten used to not acting on his own arousal, but he isn’t surprised that Bucky gets distracted by it. The boy is a sexually frustrated omega teenager, after all, and Steve’s the only alpha who’s ever touched him intimately, probably the only one who’s been dominant to him in any sort of organized or respectful fashion, too. He can’t expect the kid to have the same control of his faculties that a regular person would. That’s just not how omega bodies work. And Steve is a healthy, thirty-year-old adult alpha male, so it’s simple fact that when he’s aroused like this he’s gonna wind up clogging the air a bit for Bucky. He can see it happening already, knocking the kid a little woozy. “You okay, bub?”

His nostrils keep flaring and he keeps sucking his bottom lip compulsively as he stares at Steve’s crotch. He stops using his words and switches to little grunts and hums, starts making this needy little sound in the base of his throat that both medical literature and video titles on PornHub would refer to as a ‘keen’. His eyes go glazed and he makes that noise repeatedly while his backside weeps and his nipples pebble up beneath his shirt.

This, right here. This is why people make fun of omegas as being empty headed cocksluts. Not that Steve sees it that way—God no, he doesn’t. It’s a beautiful thing to him, to see Bucky go all soft and wanting, a natural reaction that tells him the omega is feeling pleasured enough and protected enough to let go. It means his body and brain have actually decided that it’s safe enough for him to be vulnerable like that. If nothing else, it’s a huge fucking compliment to Steve as an alpha. “Oh, Honey,” he coos, petting up and down Bucky’s sides. “You gettin a little soft, mm? Sinking a little?” Bucky whimpers and Steve hushes him supportively. “That’s okay, Buck. I’m here. Alpha’s here. You can let go for a little while if you need to.”

“... ‘pha,” Bucky slurs, latching onto the word, and Steve nods.

“Yeah, Sweetheart, Alpha’s got you. You want to lay your head down for a—”

‘Going soft’ usually only means whining and slicking and, well, going soft. It’s something easily contained and soothed, encouraged into a nap or a bit of cuddling. But that’s in healthy and well-adjusted omegas. Bucky veers in another direction altogether when he slides his hand over and starts aggressively cupping Steve’s erection through his pants.

Steve’s eyes widen. “Hey, hey. Uh-uh.” He tries to grab Bucky’s wrist but the boy evades him and his scent sours at what his dumbed down mind perceives as rejection. “Buck, now listen: you can’t touch me there.”

Bucky’s too far down already, and hearing this just makes him get more aggressive. He shoves forward, hand moulding back to the shape of Steve’s dick and squeezing insistently. “Nnn.”

A guttural sound of pleasure escapes Steve before he can cut it off, and then he’s on course correction. “O-okay bub,” he chokes out, gathering Bucky’s hands and guiding them away. “You know I can’t let you.”

Bucky whines mightily at being denied, rocking in his lap like a tantrum and trying to tug his hands free. His hips are jerking in tiny movements, and the strap support that’s under his thighs is definitely the only reason he’s not grinding directly against Steve’s crotch right now. “Nnn!” he whines, when he tries to tug his hands free and can’t. “Nnn!” He starts to get violent. He gets his hands free for a split second and manages to whack Steve upside the head before Steve regains control.

“Bucky,” he Voices, quiet but stern, “Stop. Don’t hit. I can’t let you touch my dick. You know that. It’s against the rules. Now stop. Alpha’ll be real mad if you don’t listen, right?” After Bucky finally tapers off and goes lax in surrender, Steve cautiously releases his hands. The omega grumbles unintelligibly and puts them on his shoulders instead of trying to get them anyplace Steve’s employment contract says they can’t be. His fingers curl hard at the bend of Steve’s neck and his nails do dig in a little meanly, but the point is he’s trying. Steve relaxes and praises him with a gentle, “Good job, baby. That was good listening.”

Bucky grunts a little more, and he seems to get his brain back online after a few more minutes pass by and he’s relaxed into Steve’s lap better. He doesn’t look as buzzed, looks like maybe he remembers most of the English language.

“You back with me?” Steve asks, when he notices him starting to try and hide his face in shame again.

Bucky nods, scrubbing his cheek on Steve’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Didn’t mean to.”

“I know, sweetheart. You’re okay. You pulled out of that one real good. I’m proud of you.”

One of the things Bucky struggles with is the tantruming that he tends to shoot off into during or after release. ‘Excited Catatonia with Aggression’—Present in every edition of the DSM since III came out in the eighties. It’s somewhat like a heat frenzy, only with behaviors that can turn self-injurious and emotionally harmful in the blink of an eye. Steve is relieved that they were able to avert an episode this time. “Real good,” he repeats. “Have you been practicing your calm down techniques at home?”

Bucky squirms. “Mmn.”

“Use your words, bub.”

Bucky grumbles some more, and he keeps hiding against Steve’s shoulder, but eventually he does admit, “I do ‘em sometimes. … Sometimes in my room. At night.”

Steve feels his heart ping in with another dent. ‘At night’, he knows, just means when Bucky’s family won’t catch him doing it. When he won’t be shamed for rocking or sucking or stimming in some other way. Steve’ll never forget the first time he’d tried to send Bucky home with a few helpful items. The father had gone red in the face and dragged Bucky out the doors, and Steve had been unable to do anything but watch from the building’s west entrance as everything they’d given Bucky to take home with him was dumped right there in the parking lot.

Deep down, even way back then, Steve had known in his heart that Bucky wasn’t going to be able to stay with his family. Not if he was going to make it.

(And Steve really needs him to make it.)

“... Steve?” Bucky sounds shy and fatigued, which can happen when he’s fought off the emotional stress of a tantrum. “Can we stay here for just a little bit? Please?” He shuffles on his knees with a sniffle, pressing close for comfort. “Just for a little bit? You smell so good, and I don’t wanna leave yet.”

“Of course, sweetheart, yeah. We can do that. We can stay for as long as you want.” Steve really means it, because he knows he’s got to figure out a way to tell Bucky the bad news tonight. And Steve hates to think the worst of any patient, but he’s got a bad feeling that it’s not going to go over well at all. “Buck?” he prods gently, waiting until he knows the omega is paying attention. “Honey, can we talk a little bit?”

Maybe if he can get Bucky to talk it out, he thinks, get him to conclude on his own that going home isn’t the best option for him, then maybe Steve can present the change in custody as a choice. It’s wishful thinking, but he has to try. He doesn’t want to crush Bucky’s sense of self worth more than it already has been. Bucky already feels dejected and unloved, and knowing that his family has legally washed their hands of him isn’t something Steve wants him to have to deal with. It’s better if Steve can talk him around to the other side, make him ‘decide’ that he doesn’t want to go home to his family.

Steve knows Christina wouldn’t approve of the deception. And he knows if she found out, he’d be taken off Bucky’s case at best, professionally reprimanded at worst. He’d be considered compromised. And hey, maybe he is. Doesn’t mean he’s going to do things any different until somebody makes him. Bucky’s still his patient right now, and Steve is going to take care of him the way he thinks he needs. “So … um, I wanted to ask you about how things’ve been at home, lately.” Bucky tenses and Steve hushes him, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of his head and encourage him to press his face closer. Bucky takes the cue and snuffles into Steve’s neck, mouthing over the pulse point. Steve pats his back. “Has anybody been close with you?” he asks, near-pained because he thinks he already knows the answer. “Your mom maybe, or your brothers?” Bucky shakes his head and Steve feels awful. “Are you sure? Snuggling? Or, even just a hug when you need it? Some scenting?”

The last time Bucky had been admitted on-ward, the social services team had roped his folks into a session to try and better educate them on their son’s new special needs. Steve hadn’t been present—had been on vacation, of all things, Christ—but he’s heard that the parents did not appreciate the instruction, and they didn’t take any of the information to heart. Obviously.

“Mm mn,” Bucky’s saying, rubbing his mouth over Steve’s skin as he speaks. “I never ask. Don’t want ‘em to know. They’d just make fun’a me if I asked.”

Steve inhales sadly. “You need regular touch Bucky. Hugs, skin contact, lap time, something.”

“No,” he mumbles, sounding like the surly teenager he is. “You don’t get it.”

“Well explain it to me, then.”

“They’re totally ashamed of me. My dad hates me.”

Steve tuts. “I’m sure that’s not true, Honey. They may be uncomfortable about certain things—uneducated, or ill-equipped to help you. The counselors here have talked to you about it, haven’t they? You know: about how people can have implicit biases that they—”

“No!” Bucky gets angry and pulls away, sitting back on his knees and giving Steve a sharp look. “I’m embarrassing to them. They don’t want the neighbors to know! My brothers’ friends aren’t allowed to come over to our house to hang out anymore, so they hate me too, and just … Ugh! You just don’t get it, Steve. Not everybody believes like you guys do here. Lots of people just think that omegas are … they just think that we’re …”

“Honey,”

“Mm mn,” he sniffles, stubborn. “They think we’re useless, dumb. A waste of space.”

“That’s not true and you know it Bucky,” Steve says sternly.

“I don’t know shit,” he growls. “That’s how it is in the real world, Steve. And how’re they wrong, huh? I’m never going to be able to have a job, never gonna be able to take care of myself.”

“Bucky,” Steve pleads, concerned at the vitriol in Bucky’s voice. He should not be talking like this, and the fact that he is means that things at his home have been more abusive than Steve realized.

“—Just a waste of tax dollars. A drain on society. Waste of hardworking people’s tax dollars,”

“Stop.” Steve’s pissed when he Voices it, and it comes through loud and clear. Bucky shuts up right away. He blinks wide eyes at him, and Steve takes the opportunity to shut him down. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again, Bucky,” he says, easing off from his Voice when he can see he’s gotten the kid’s attention. He puts his hands on Bucky’s hips and looks at him sternly. “There are people who think like your parents do, yes. But it’s not nearly the majority. I think you’re under the impression that a lot of people share those ugly beliefs.” He waits, and when Bucky says nothing to deny it, Steve huffs. “It’s not many. I’d say … ten percent of folks? Maybe fifteen, when there’s a Republican in the white house.”

“What? Really? …You’re not just saying that?”

Bucky looks slightly swayed. Bolstered, Steve pets his hands up and down Bucky’s sides, rucking the soft material of his tee shirt as he does it. “No, I’m not just saying that. Most people don’t think the way your folks do. Only assholes who watch Fox News parrot out the sort of vile shit you just did.” He raises a knowing eyebrow, daring Bucky to deny it. He’s met George Barnes a few times. He knows what type the man is. “You are just as important as any other person, Hon,” he promises, and when Bucky starts to sneer again, he’s struck by the distinct urge to smack him.

He digs his fingers in warningly at the boy’s waist. “Hey, listen to me, now.” Bucky stops sneering, and Steve sighs, trying to think of something he can say that’ll make Bucky realize he’s actually worth something. “Do you … Do you believe in God, honey?” he asks—not at all professional, but Steve’s gone past professional with Bucky for a while now, whether he wants to admit it or not. He’s heard Bucky make a few flippant comments in the past, about ‘God’ or ‘heaven’ or ‘prayers’ (usually in relation to morbid comments about wanting to die or off himself), so he’s taking a chance and going out on a limb here. “Hm?”

“God?” Bucky’s brow furrows. “I guess so. I mean my family never really goes to church except for—”

“I didn’t ask if you go to church,” Steve interrupts. “I asked if you believe in God, in one form or another.” He waits patiently for Bucky to answer him. When he does, it’s with a tiny nod and a mumbled,

“Yeah. I think so. … I do.”

Steve softens. “Okay then. Me too, by the way.” Bucky makes a weird face like he’s still unsure why Steve is talking about this, So Steve explains, “Think about it: Do you really think there’s any God out there who’d create a whole class of people that didn’t have a purpose? Ten percent of humanity that’s just a ‘stupid waste’?” He waits until Bucky makes a face in consideration. “Right. I’m Catholic, you know? My ma dragged my butt to mass every Sunday growing up. And I just wish you could’a heard the things I did, the things they preached. It was never ugly like what your folks’ve been telling you. Omegas are different from other people, but so are Alphas. Doesn’t mean we’re not just as good and important as anybody else. We just have different needs, and that’s okay.” He offers Bucky a cautious smile. “I mean, maybe it’s not a coincidence that we’re five and five of the population, huh?” He reaches up and cradles the side of Bucky’s face, tracing his cheekbone with the pad of a thumb. “It’s like somebody had this idea we’d be complimentary, or something.”

Bucky’s lips have parted, and he even smiles reluctantly at the soft teasing in Steve’s tone there at the end. He reaches up and covers Steve’s hand with his own. “I guess so,” he murmurs. “I mean, it kinda makes sense.”

“Mm.” Steve smirks. “It does.” He kisses his cheek and gives another little squeeze on his waist. “C’mon. Let’s go get cleaned up.”

Bucky is sullen at first when they exit the massage room, but when Steve makes it clear that he won’t be leaving Bucky’s side now that their lap time is over, the omega trails along happily enough. They wash up in the bathroom and change into clean clothes. Bucky doesn’t fuss at all when Steve helps him into a fresh diaper, but he does mumble, “I hate ‘em.”

Steve has just pulled up the soft fleece pants for Bucky. “Do you really? Or d’you just hate how embarrassed it makes you feel?”

Bucky chews his lip and doesn’t answer for a long minute, his lashes lowering and his cheeks darkening. “... The second one, I guess. Embarrassing.”

If you were my omega, Steve wants to say so badly. You’d never have to feel embarrassed about anything. Not for the rest of his life, because Steve would take care of him, make him feel like the treasure he is. Like he deserves. He licks his lips, overly emotional and trying not to let it show. “Hey,” he says softly, putting his hand over Bucky’s fleece-covered knee. “You know it’s a common thing, the wetting, right bub?”

Bucky nods sullenly. “I guess.” He’s still sitting on the changing table with his legs thrown over the side, and Steve steps forward to give him a hug. “Who’s ever gonna want to put up with me?” he says, and Steve’s heart just about fractures.

Me, he wants to say so badly, but he can’t. He holds the words back like bile in his mouth, hugs him tighter and says into his hair, “Lotsa people, Buck. There’s whole agencies devoted to helping omegas find their mates.”

“There are?”

“Of course. Half my job is making sure patients are set up to succeed in the world, once they get outta here.” He steps back and takes Bucky’s hand, and together they walk out of the bathroom and down the ward’s hallway. “That’s actually something you and I need to talk about.”

It’s dinnertime, so Steve walks them to the room where all the patients on C Hall eat their meals. He makes himself a coffee while Bucky goes to load up a tray with food from the line, then they sit together away from the other patients. Steve works up the nerve to have the conversation he’s been avoiding all day. “So,” he says. “When you get out of here,”

Bucky makes a face down at his tray of food. “Ugh.”

“Ugh?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I hate thinking about going home. They’ll come and pick me up, be jerks all over again, till next time.” He stabs vindictively at the little pile of peas he’s got. “I know it’s crazy to want, but … sometimes I wish they’d never come back, that they’d magically just forget about me and I could stay here forever.”

“Aw, you don’t want to stay here forever,” Steve coaxes. “In a mental hospital?”

Bucky shrugs. “I’d rather be here with you then back home with them.”

God, Honey. You’ve got no idea how much I want to keep you. Steve tries not to get overeager, but this is a good start to the conversation they need to have, so he goes with it. “Yeah?” he prods. “I’ve always been able to tell your dad’s a bit of a prick, but things are that bad at home?” He wants Bucky to talk about the abuse, then they can segue into discussing healthier options. “Buck?”

Bucky avoids looking at him, poking around his food and making patterns in the mashed sweet potatoes with his fork. “... Nobody makes fun of me here,” he says quietly. “I’m allowed to relax and … and do what feels good.”

Christ. Steve grits his teeth and imagines beating George Barnes’ face to a pulp. “Yeah Honey,” he eventually croaks. “Yeah that’s how it should be. Always. The fact that your folks make you feel that way, that they treat you the way they do … It’s wrong. It’s abusive. So is the way they’re always dumping you here and yanking you out, using it as a punishment. You do realize that?”

Bucky glances up at him, but he shrugs. “I guess so,” he mumbles.

“No, not ‘I guess so’, it is,” Steve insists. He nods at Bucky's tray. “Stop playing with your food. Put a bite of that in your mouth.” Bucky’s eyes get a little wide at the command, and then he flushes and responds positively, listening to Steve and eating a forkful of potatoes. Steve feels a warm thrill of satisfaction at being obeyed. “Good boy,” he praises. “Look, Buck. I want to talk about your options for when you leave here. You do realize that I’ll help you, right? If you put in a petition on grounds of abuse, I’ll sign it. You could choose where you live. You wouldn’t have to go back to your parents’ place. In fact I don’t think you should. It sounds to me like they make you pretty miserable.”

“What?” Bucky looks surprised. “But where else would I go? I don’t have a job or any money.”

“That’s okay. You know the state puts money aside for omegas, right? We can get you set up with what you need.”

Bucky looks wary, but he nods. “Yeah. They talked about it in life skills class. Welfare programs.”

Steve supposes that’s the sort of thing George Barnes talks trash about at home. “Yeah,” he says encouragingly. “You can apply for an apartment and an income. It won’t be a lot, but it’d be enough to live off of. You’ll get medical, housing, heat support.” Bucky’s face goes scarlet at the mention of his heats, but Steve presses on. “And there are jobs out there for omegas who want to work. You just have to know where to look. Like this girl I know from my church? She got a job working at a childcare center. Told me she loves it.” Bucky’s brow is furrowed as he takes in all that Steve’s saying, and Steve holds his hand out over the table, palm up. “C’mon, tell me what you're thinking.”

Bucky bites his lip but he does put his hand in Steve’s. “I don’t … I don’t know how to be on my own,” he admits. “I’m afraid. What if I mess up?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Steve squeezes his hand. “You won’t mess anything up. You know, I have so many omega clients who do well. Almost everybody does, really, when they get out of here. And you wouldn’t be on your own. There’d be people helping you. You’d get a caretaker assigned from an agency. A good one.” He hates thinking of another alpha helping Bucky, scent marking his apartment and making him feel good. But that’s Steve’s problem, not Bucky’s. “Honey, I think your self esteem has taken such a huge hit from this when it didn’t really have to. Your folks have been saying nasty shit in your ears ever since you presented three years ago, and I’m sorry but that’s a damn shame. It’s fucked up.”

Bucky is looking at Steve like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, and Steve knows why. He’s never really cursed in front of Bucky before, and he’s certainly never verbally trashed the kid’s family. But Steve is fed up. He just spent the last hour helping the most beautiful, sweet omega through a release, and knowing that the poor thing is so mixed up about his gender because of his asshole family absolutely burns Steve up. He’s had enough. Bucky deserves to feel good about himself and have a good life. Steve gives his hand another supportive squeeze. “Hey, why don’t we sit down tomorrow and make a ‘what if’ plan, huh?”

“... What’s a ‘what if’ plan?”

Steve smiles gently. “It’s where we think up options for what you might do, where you might go, if you want something different when you get out of here.”

“Steve, I don’t … I don’t know.” Bucky looks down, face screwed up in worry. In a tiny voice, he admits, “I’m not sure I can really take care of myself. Not like this.” He says it so sadly, and Steve doesn’t know what ‘like this’ means, but he can make a few guesses. Across the table from him, Bucky is looking rather miserable. “My parents’ll probably be by any day now to pick me up, anyway.”

Steve cringes. He finally forces himself to say, “Well, that’s um, that’s not really going to happen, actually.”

“What?” Bucky’s wide, hurt eyes coming back up to lock on Steve don’t make this task any easier. “What do you mean?”

“Um, you see, your folks decided to sign a paper when they came by this last time, saying that they agree to relinquish custody.”

Bucky’s entire face falls in a way that absolutely breaks Steve’s heart. “Oh,” he says, voice tiny. “They got rid of me?”

“They signed over custody, baby. I think they finally realized that it was hurting you more than helping, so they agreed to let us take care of you from now on. They’re finally trying to do right by you.”

It’s a complete lie, Steve is pretty sure. He knows Bucky’s parents and he’s certain that nothing about the situation was done for Bucky’s benefit, only their own. The Barnes’ simply didn’t want to deal with their son’s needs anymore. But Steve is trying to put the best spin on this he can, for Bucky’s sake. “It’s going to be okay, Buck,” he promises. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. You know that, right?”

Bucky’s already pulling into himself. He physically almost seems to shrink, shoulders hunching and arms tucking in. He nods at Steve’s question though, and he doesn’t rage or fit at the news that his family doesn’t want him anymore. “Yeah,” he says, voice dull. “I know.”

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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[klausinamarink]

writers 20 questions

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

45 at the moment! I have a few more wips to post on the way so the number is going to go higher

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

130,657

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things. I’m looking to branch to other fandoms though like The Locked Tomb in the future

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Standup, You’re Never Too Much, Recapturing the Sunset, Just Another Flesh Wound, One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes!! But not always as sometimes I immediately forget to reply and when I do, it’s a few weeks or a month later skkshdk forgive me

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Biting Back in Anger. It’s Eddie having a bad day and blowing up at Steve, who leaves trying not to cry :)

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

uhhh most of my fics have happy endings but I think I can nominate The Tinsel Tradition. It has Steve, Eddie, and Robin building a home together in NYC, healed and happy in every queer way!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nope, thank god

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

I’ve been writing more smut recently and exploring some areas. I’m honestly gotten more comfortable though it’s still a challenge to get the right words without coming off as awkward lmao. but that’s Phil’s (@theheadlessphilosopher) job 🫶💜

10. Do you write crossovers?

I’m more of a fusion au writer who borrows the setting and elements and places my blorbos in there than a straight-up crossover. Unless that counts as a crossover? Those two terms are kinds confusing sometimes..

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No

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

There are a couple folks who played around this idea with me but nothing concrete. Though I guess Phil’s beta work can count because he writes better lines and scenarios than me

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

You’re asking me, a Steddie blog—

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

oof. I have a TLOU steddie wip based on resande’s sketches, but it’s looking unlikely to be done because the person looking it as my beta reader over got busy with other things and I’ve lost the writing juice 😔

16. What are your writing strengths?

Many people tell me that I am very visceral with my descriptions, esp with horror, and setting the tension is top-notch 🥰 (I am a freak who loves gore and blood tehehehehe)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have too many ideas and a problem to actually write what I want that it comes off as juvenile to me. I also have a tendency to gloss over the editing of my fic which I’m trying to break out of.

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

I honestly don’t mind it at all. However, I do get taken right out of the story if the language is written literally (like kanji for Japanese, Cyrillic for Russian, etc.) and not romanized when the character is speaking because that’s not how it works

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Warrior Cats. We all started our writing careers from that series at some point in middle school lol

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Noooo, I can’t pick favourites- I love them all equally. But FINE, I’ll say it would be When Life Gives You Pickles, Make It Into Soup. I wrote this as mostly self-indulgent because I LOVE pickle soup and is the best comfort food of all time. I think anyone making soup in general for their significant other if PEAK relationship goals because who doesn’t love soup?? Of course I had to Steddie-ify it

thanks to Devon for tagging me! Tagging others with no pressure: @thefreakandthehair @pearynice @3minsover @penny00dreadful @chaosgremlinmunson

@cranberrymoons @dies-somniator

[ceceilum]

dude I found your account yesterday I think and binged your fic last night (only got to chapter 16 I think, going to finish 2night) and I planned on telling you through tumblrs asks thingy how much I loved it and saw WE’RE MUTUALS !! Anyhow I like the fic and the interpretation of the characters, leaning into certain canon traits they have more than others I’ve seen, making them seem more like adults than pixel folk. Also, you DO know how 2 write banter!!!! It does make me giggle when you describe papyrus as having lips sometimes though ik what you mean. Delicious tension throughout the whole thing and it definitely called me out with that deep talk papyrus had about his childhood. Having been on both ends of liking someone in a relationship and being cheated on makes the read a bit emotional too.

Chap 16??? Uh oh… you got some angst incoming (I TAGGED IT YOU CANT BACK OUT NOW) also hiii mutual 🤝

I truly love the undertale gang, I’ve been reading about that mf found family since 2015. and I LOVE audience interpretations the fact that we’re STILL making posts dissecting Sans and Papyrus’s character is amazing.

I definitely wanted Sans to lean more into his kind, but apathetic nature, without touching on timelines and resets (hell, frisk and flowey have yet to be even mentioned) it’s why I find HIMMM to be in part more Deltarune leaning. (Sorta)

As in Sans is just a dude. Just a lil dude running his (future) shop.

Thank you so much for your kind comments!!! As someone who does professionally want to go on and become a comedy writer. Hearing folks say “hey, this is funny.” It’s all the motivation I need to continue.

….last part… look… I don’t know how other writers do it… but it’s hard to make skeletons emote… without using human terminology “his lip twitched.” “He corked a brow” etc IM WORKING ON IT lmao.

Sometimes I’ll re-read my own work like “a skeleton couldn’t do that” but I have neither the energy or patience to do a full re-edit.

Due to stuff that’s coming later (not cheating, I swear to you) the fic needs to be re-tagged as some more heavier subjects will be dealt with.

But I’m so happy you’re enjoying the fic, enough to even let me know about it, it means a lot ^_^

[fictionphagiac]

"You gonna finish those fries?"

heya folks

if I did this right

no one from my universe should be able to see this

recently weird stuff has been happening to me so obviously I thought

"yeah I'll blog about it"

I'll mostly just be posting about the weird stuff that's been happening to me but if you guys are curious about them I'll probably go ahead and answer them

(tl:dr)

(This is a vore and kink heavy rp blog)

(Rules are basically, be nice, understand I have a job and other hobbies and blogs outside of this, don’t follow or interact if you don’t care for the aforementioned content and let me know if I make you uncomfortable)

(Stats and Larger rules under the cut.)

Stats-

Name: Amanda Burgess

Bio: A nerdy human gal who recently awoken latent reality warping abilities not too long after graduating from university. Surely she won’t try and make her deepest desires come to life by plowing and eating her favorite fictional characters.

Occupation: Part time employee at a comic shop,

Vore Role: Pred Leaning 70/30

Age: 26 years

Current Gender: Female (She/Her)

Current Height: 5'4

Current Weight 230 lbs

Current Bodyshape: Chubby, pear shaped.

Race: Human (Reality Warper/Shifter)

Skin Color: Fair

Eye Color: Orange

Current Color and Hairstyle: Long blonde hair that reaches the middle of her back

Current Breast Size: C-cups

Current Ass Size: 12 inches across each cheek

Current Crotch: Pussy

Other: Has a tattoo of Wonder Woman’s emblem on her left upper arm, right beneath her shoulder.

Usual Attire: A more often than not, she’s donning a red flannel hoodie with her favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt. Swaps between denim skirt when out and about and cozy sweatpants when she’s lazing about at home.

Abilities-

Reality Shifting

Manipulation- The ability to change and warp the properties of most existing things or people

Manifest- The ability to bring something or someone from unexistence to reality, may require some sort of reference (a picture of an item for example)

Maneuver- The ability to shift her place in reality to another, may require a reference if visiting a new place for the first time.

Current M!A effects-

None

Items of Note-

None

Rules-

Be nice and realize that I do have a job and other obligations so I may not be here 24/7

This is a nsfw heavy blog so no minors, muns, muses or otherwise.

IMs and Discord will be used for OOC convos only, if you come at me in character in IMs I will either ignore you or give you a gentle reminder

Let me know if you’re uncomfortable with any kinks and I’ll be sure to steer them away from you, especially if you feel if I’m about to cross a line, note when it comes to bolded kinks of the vore log I won’t even touch them unless you tell me at some point that you’re comfortable with it and that is a right you are free to revoke at any time, so if at one point you give me permission to put your muse on the vorelog but change your mind later and don’t feel comfortable with it, let me know so I can take it down

All kinks will be tagged appropriately

Bolded kinks will be put under readmore

Kinks-

Yes- Vore (Being Pred) Alternative vore Expansion Hyper Sized Endowments Light Slob Anthro Muses Demi-human muses Human muses Robotic/Android Muses Monster Muses Bad Ends (Giving) Gas (Burps) Post-vore disposal (Cum) Post-vore Disposal (Scat) TransformationOlder MusesFeederism Immobility

Maybe- Heavy Slob Gas (the other kind) Hypnotism Dubcon Sex Vore (Being Prey) Bad Ends (Receiving)

No- Health Issues Unintelligent Feral Muses/Beastiality Noncon Sex Underaged/Loli/Shota Muses Pregnancy Diapers/ABDL Gore/Violence/Kinks that involve excessive pain Toilet kinks (Without vore)

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Thanksgiving Reruns--Day 4: Black Friday (2/3)

Title: Black Friday—Chapter 2 of 3

Rating: G

Words: 1713

Summary: CS as single parents AU. As the holidays approach, Emma’s son Henry and Killian’s daughter Alice ask for a specific storybook which will ONLY be available for purchase on Black Friday.

 Other chapters: 1 2 3 5

 Black Friday—Chapter 2

“Um excuse me,” Emma said with a frown, “this book is mine.”

The person standing before her didn’t relinquish the book in question, and Emma glanced up at him…and then promptly wished she hadn’t.  This guy was hot.  Like middle-of-summer in Phoenix hot.  Like compared-to-him-the-sun-was-kind-of-warm hot.  No one had a right to look that damn good this early in the morning.  She should just arrest him and haul him off to jail for that alone.

Very much against her will, her heart swooped and her breath caught at his very proximity.  She saw the exact moment he noticed her reaction.  A sly, maddening, delighted (sexy) grin came over his face.  Emma frowned thunderously up at him, as angry with herself at her reaction as she was at him for his…well, his very existence.

“Much as I hate to contradict a lady,” he drawled (Oh gods, even his voice and accent were hot.  She was in serious, serious trouble), “I believe this book, in fact belongs to me.  I was here first.”

Her frown deepened.  “I don’t think so.  Give me my item before I punch you in the face.”

He chuckled, leaning forward and crowding her space. (Her stupid, traiterous heart picked up yet again.)  “Oh Darling, I can think of some far, far more pleasant ways we can spar than a bout of fisticuffs.”

Was it suddenly hot in here?  

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” she said with a sigh, her voice beginning to raise.  “Just stop being a jackass and give me the book.”

Suddenly a small man with a brown beard, a grumpy look on his face, and a hat that read “security” stepped forward.  “There a problem here folks?”

“None I can’t handle,” Emma gritted out.  “Soon as this guy admits I got here first and gives me my merchandise I’ll get out of your hair.”

“On the contrary,” the man said.  “I was the first one to claim this particular prize.”

The security guard, who wore the name tag “Leroy”, glanced back and forth between the two of them for a moment, and then shrugged.  “Look, I won’t have any fighting in this store.  Work it out among yourselves, or I’m kicking you both out.  Then neither one of you gets the stupid book.”

For a moment Emma merely glared at the man, and he looked back at her, a look of steely determination on his face.  Finally he sighed.

“Look, love, the security guard’s right,” he said. “While quite enjoyable, our standoff will get us nowhere.”

Was the (hot as hell) guy going to actually be reasonable and give in?

“So here’s what I propose,” he said.  “We purchase the book and then adjourn elsewhere to discuss the particulars of whose prize it will be.  Perhaps you’ll allow me to buy you a cup of coffee at Granny’s?”

She crossed her arms across her chest.  “Are you seriously asking me out right now?”

He chuckled, and the sound did things to her, things that brought the color to her cheeks and stole her breath clean from her lungs.  He leaned even closer, so close she could feel his minty-fresh breath against her cheek.  “Sadly no.  I was merely proposing a parlay of sorts, a chance for us to settle our differences like adults.  However, if you’re hoping for a romantic evening out on another occasion, I could certainly accommodate you.”

“In your dreams!”

He wiggled his eyebrows.  Actually wiggled them!  “Perhaps.”

Emma growled.  “Are you kidding me right now?  It’s too early for this!”

He seemed to sense he’d pushed her as far as was prudent, and he sighed.  “I vow to be the perfect gentleman.  IIf we at least secure the item, we can then decide later who is the victor.”

She gave him a quick look and could see the sincerity in his eyes.  She was good at spotting when someone was lying, after all.  Finally she sighed.  “Fine.  But we both buy it–split the cost fifty-fifty.  That way neither one of us can claim ownership of the book before we get everything ironed out.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Here you are folks,” the perky brunette waitress said half an hour later.  “One black coffee and one hot cocoa with cinnamon.

Killian heard the waitress lean whisper “Emma, he’s hot” to the woman on the other side of the booth.

She growled and whispered “Ruby, shut it!” back.

He chuckled.  This was turning into one of the most delightful mornings he’d had in ages.  When the waitress had flitted over to another set of customers, Killian leaned back and grinned at his companion.  “She’s right, you know,” he said.  ‘I have been called devilishly handsome.”

“I’ll give you the devilish part,” she said with a wry quirk of her brow.  “Look…what did you say your name was?”

“Did I fail to introduce myself?  How very rude of me.  Killian Jones, at your service,” he said with a bow.  Her cheeks colored alluringly at his formality, and Killian was delighted at her reaction to him.

She was utterly captivating, and the truth was, he hadn’t been so quickly, completely and charmingly smitten with anyone since Milah.  Though he very much wanted to attain the fairy tale book for his Alice, he couldn’t say he regretted the complications this morning had brought.

He didn’t know what possessed him to ask this woman to coffee.  All he knew as they stood facing off in the bookstore was that he did not want their time together to be at an end anytime soon.

“Emma Swan,” she muttered.

A fit of pure devilishness came over him, and he reached over, took her hand and brought it to her lips.  “Enchanted.” he whispered.

Her quick, indrawn breath made his grin widen, and she quickly pulled her hand back and busied herself with taking a sip of her beverage.

“So, Killian Jones,” she said, her voice not quite steady, “what are we going to do about this book?  I don’t mean to be a jerk about it, but I really need this book.  My son…well, this is the only thing he’s asked for, and it’s been a rough year for him.  I just…I just want to be able to give him this one thing so maybe I don’t feel like such a failure as a parent.”

His heart turned over.  He could tell she’d said more than she’d intended.  Emma Swan didn’t strike him as someone who let her walls down quickly or shared her feelings of inadequacy with strangers.

“As a single parent myself, I can relate to the feelings, love,” he said, “but I’ve no doubt book or no book, you’re hardly a failure as a parent.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, glancing uncomfortably aside.  “I feel like it.”

Killian was silent for a long moment, taking a sip of his coffee.  If it weren’t for Alice, he’d give up his claim on the book in a moment, but it was for Alice.  Was there any way they could both get what they wanted?

“I don’t wish to be intransigent either,” he said finally, “and my behavior today is not a matter of mere stubbornness.  My daughter also has her heart set on this particular book.”

Her eyes softened at his statement, acknowledging their dueling claims as parents wanting the best for their respective children.  “Yeah, I get it, so that brings me back to my original question.  How do we decide who gets the book?”

Suddenly an idea struck him.  It was unorthodox to say the least, unorthodox to the point of being downright bizarre, but it did have it’s merits–namely the fact that, should she agree to it, they’d be forced to see each other again on a fairly regular basis.

“I do have an idea,” he said slowly, “but it may sound positively daft.”

She gave him an assessing look, taking another dainty sip of her cocoa.  “Okay, I’m listening.”

“What if we share the book?” he blurted out.

“Share it?  What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, “what if we trade off?  Your lad gets the book one week, and then my Alice gets it the next, and so on.”

Her brow furrowed.  “You mean like…joint custody…of a book.”

He shrugged with a grin.  “I told you it would sound daft.”

Killian was encouraged by the fact that Emma didn’t outright shoot down his (odd) idea.  She seemed to consider it, staring into space for several moments, before briefly nodding.  “It is a weird solution, but I think it might be the best way we can both get what we want.  Can’t believe I’m saying this, but you have a deal.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

"It worked!" Henry said excitedly he following Monday morning as he got off the school bus and sprinted over to Alice.  "My mom told me all about it.  Your dad and my mom decided to share the storybook!"

"I know!" Alice said, smile wide and delighted.  "My papa explained the situation to me.  I could tell he felt bad that he didn't get the book, and I wanted to make him feel better, but then I thought maybe it would be better to act kinda disappointed."

"Good thinking," Henry said with a nod as they reached their classroom and headed for their desks.  "If they feel guilty, then they'll make sure to always make the drop off, and then they'll have to meet every week.  We'll be brother and sister by Easter!"

"I hope you're right," Alice said with a sigh.  "I know my papa gets lonely sometimes, and it would be nice if he had someone besides me in his life."

"Exactly," Henry agreed. "And my mom needs to know that not every guy's like my dad.  Not every guy's gonna leave her.

Henry busied himself setting his backpack on the floor and getting out his books and then he looked back at Alice with a troubled look.  "You don't think they'll be mad at us, do you?  You know, for being sneaky and everything."

Alice shook her head vehemently.  "They'll be too happy together for that.  Sometimes adults are just too busy to see what's right in front of them.  That's when their kids have to step in and parent trap them."

Next Chapter-->

[our-queer-experience]

🐈

(he/they)

I want to put my pronouns in each ask that I sent so if anyone refers to me they know what pronouns I use, and I’m going to also put my sign as the first thing because I feel like that’s easiest.

It’s somewhat late for me and I have a lot to do tomorrow so I won’t rant too much for now. But since you’re open to hearing anything I wanted to get at least something in!

I’m aro-spec, simply. I’m also ace-spec and apl(aplatonic)-spec. I consider myself bi-aspec. I recently discovered that I prefer saying aspec, which is a broad label, because I feel like I relate to too many labels to pick just one or two but I also am too lazy to hoard labels. I also find my relationship with attraction (in all aspects) is very complex so why not just use a broad label that encompasses everything? But since you mentioned aro in the one post I’ll focus on that for now lol.

I came to the permanent decision I was some flavor of aro around a year ago, but I was questioning for at least a few years before that. I was in a lot of denial for whatever reason. I guess for me, at the time when I was questioning which was between the ages of 11-14, I thought it was strictly ‘no romantic attraction’ and so I couldn’t be aro because I do feel consistent attraction occasionally. It wasn’t until I was 15 that I finally decided to actually explore the possibility and ended up discovering a whole community that was full of resources for questioning folk. I don’t understand why it took me so long to realize that but I’m glad I did when I did.

I’ve been through SO MANY labels since and I ended up going with a broad label because it makes more sense for me but I do love microlabels (my beloved microlabels ❤️❤️), I just don’t feel like one or two describes my experience well enough, it’s multiple that do because of how complex it is so I choose not to select microlabels.

I’m 16 now, a year later from when I finally decided to open up to the idea of being aro and it’s so?? Fuck I don’t know. I love it so much and wouldn’t give it up for anything.

I know this isn’t that intriguing but I have stuff to do tomorrow and need rest! But I promise to come back with more interesting experiences and whatnot. And if you or any followers have questions (which followers will have to leave in the comments or tags lol) specifically, I’d be so happy to answer them when I have the time. I’m an open book so no question exceeds any boundaries!

it’s neat to hear from you! whenever i hear stories like yours, i think of the sci guys podcast and how they’ll go “well, uh, it’s probably a spectrum” to define any word, and they did that in their aromanticism episode as well. (sci guys is a fantastic show, i highly recomend it)

[seidenbros]

You Got Me Burnin' Up

Requests are open | prompt lists for inspiration | Stranger Things Masterlist

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader Word count: 3620 Summary: “if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs” “i haven’t even touched you and you’re already wet" Or the day you told Eddie before going to the movies with the others that you weren't wearing any underwear and you had him thinking about nothing else. Warning/Tags: shameless smut, oral sex (m + f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, slight praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), established relationship, creampie, cockwarming (let me know if I missed anything) | 18+ MINORS DNI Author’s note: Looks like Smut Sunday again! I took these prompts from a prompt list (and there are so many other good ones as well), so I just needed to get this out of my head 💚

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“I’m not wearing any underwear, just so you know.”

Those were the last words you’d said to Eddie before you’d entered the cinema. Robin had arranged for all of you to meet up and watch a movie together, but you’d wanted to make it a little more interesting. Your skirt reached your knees, but you still had to watch out a little bit to not make the wrong moves, but it was worth it to see that fire in Eddie’s eyes as soon as you’d said that.

Now, you were sitting next to each other, watching the movie - or rather trying to because you really couldn’t concentrate - and Eddie’s hand lay on your thigh, slowly pushing the skirt up a little so that he could touch your bare skin. Your whole body was on fire, had been pretty much all day, because you’d wanted him to yourself, but you really hadn’t had the time to do anything except for exchanging a few kisses. You hadn’t really been able to see each other all week, so it was only natural that you wanted to have him to yourself, wasn’t it?

His hand inched further upward, so you used your jacket to put it on top of your thighs, hiding where his hand was going. It was dark in here, but if anyone turned to look your way, they would probably be able to guess what Eddie was doing. When his hand reached its goal, you pressed your lips together to not moan out loud when he touched you. His hand was gone way too seen, leaving you longing for more.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already wet,” Eddie whispered in your ear, gripping your thigh with his hand, making you feel your own wetness on his fingers. He was right, he hadn’t really touched you, but his hand on your skin, the anticipation of what was to come later paired with not really being alone with him for so long, did that to you. “If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have my head between your legs.”

“Eddie,” you nearly whimpered, the mental image he was painting making you squirm in your seat. You pretended to reach over for some popcorn, but in fact, you were pressing your hand against his crotch, making the grip he had in your thigh tighten in the process. His hips bucked slightly up against your hand, and you could feel how hard he was in the confinements of his jeans. Painfully hard, but he still made no effort to get going, so that was up to you.

“Then let’s get away from the public spaces,” you breathed in his ear, placing a kiss just beneath it, before you got up and quickly left the cinema. For a moment Eddie simply stared after you, until he realised what you were doing.

“Everything alright with her?” Robin leaned over your now empty seat to ask Eddie.

“She’s not feeling well. I’ll check up on her, just don’t count on us coming back. It already started before we got here.” A blatant lie, but it looked like Robin bought it, and so Eddie followed you outside, where he found you already standing by his van.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Eddie called over to you, a grin on his lips as he unlocked the car for you to get in. Once you were both inside, he started the van, eyes on the road.

“You were the one with your hand between my legs in there!” Not that you hadn’t enjoyed it, but he couldn’t put the blame on you. At least not completely.

“Because I had to check if you were telling the truth. Leaving the house without any underwear… You know that’s gonna occupy my mind.”

“Yeah, and I meant no underwear at all.” You pulled up the sweater you were wearing to reveal your bare tits to him. Eddie looked over and immediately cursed under his breath.

“Jesus H Crist, you can’t just do that when I have to concentrate on driving. Or do you want me to pull the van over? Because I swear-”

“Not really… Just want to make you feel good until we get home.” You scooted over to put your hands on his belt.

“I’m already feeling pretty good.” He followed your movements, then looked back up, swallowing hard. “Just need to get out of these clothes asap.” And with that he technically meant that he needed to get home with you so that he could strip out of his clothes that felt too tight and too warm. But he also knew that it could be interpreted differently.

“Oh yes, it looks like that. You need to be freed from these confinements.” He detected the lovingly mocking tone in your voice, and had to chuckle. But that chuckle dies down when you made quick work of unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out. The cold air of the van sent a shiver down his spine, but that was gone immediately again when you wrapped your fingers around his base and started to lazily stroke him. The precum leaking from his tip was the perfect lube for a start.

“Fuck, sweetheart, what… what are you doing?”

“Told you, just wanna make you feel good!” Looking up at him from your bent position, you flattened your tongue against his length and slowly licked upwards, before you wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked lightly.

“I can’t…” Eddie mumbled, before he pulled the van over and stopped. There was no way, he’d be able to concentrate when you were doing something like this. “I can’t take us home like this.” His words were rushed, because you robbed him of the ability to think straight with what you were doing.

“Fine with me… But this is just about you.” You let go of him just to say these words, before you took more of him into your mouth, swirled your tongue around his cock, feeling him twitch under your touch. You wanted him so badly, but right now, you enjoyed seeing him coming undone in his seat.

“Are you… are you sure?” Usually Eddie was the one to take charge, to take care of you first, make sure you came at least once before it was about him at all, because he enjoyed giving you pleasure.

“Mhm,” you hummed around him, earning you a deep groan when he let his head fall back against the headrest for a moment. He quickly looked back at you again, his hand running through your hair, the other holding onto the steering wheel, even though you weren’t going anywhere. When you took him even deeper, his fingers tightened in your hair, because he didn’t expect that. He couldn’t keep his hips still pushing his cock even further down your throat. Tears were brimming in your eyes, but you enjoyed it. You had a way to communicate when you didn’t like anything, you both had made that clear right at the beginning of your relationship.

“Fuck that feels so good… so, so good, princess…” Eddie said between moans, eyes still on you, because he loved watching you. When he let go of your hair, he used that hand to brush the tears away. You kept bobbing your head up and down meeting the thrusts of his hips, feeling him at the back of your throat, but it was worth it to hear the noises he made, the grunts, the moans that made your own arousal grow even more.

“I’m gonna… sweetheart, I’m gonna come if you keep… shit,” Eddie cursed, throwing his head back when he felt your hand on his balls, gently massaging them. You didn’t want to stop, but he always gave you a warning, when he could, so that the choice was up to you. But then you felt it, felt his cock twitch in your mouth, his balls tighten as he shot his hot load right down your throat. A string of curse words left his lips along with your name.

You swallowed down his load, before you slowly let go of him, licking him clean, before you sat up straight again.

“You look so pretty when you come… and right after that as well,” you said with a smile, wiping your thumb over the corners of your mouth before popping it into your mouth to lick it clean. Eddie groaned at your words and at the sight of you, his cheeks turning pink, because it was something he always said to you. He liked it more than he’d ever admit, but you could tell from his reaction.

He tucked himself back into his pants, hissing  at the slight friction, because he was so sensitive right now, but then he leaned over to you, pulling you towards him with one hand on your neck and kissed you. You still tasted of all the sweet popcorn you’d had at the cinema, and he could taste himself on your lips, which only made him want to devour you right then and there, but he thought better of it.

Eddie hurried to get to the trailer, looking over to you again and again, at that smirk on your lips, at the way you were squirming in your seat, begging for some friction. When you pushed your hand between your legs and beneath the skirt, he felt his own dick twitch again, and he drove faster. You were driving him completely insane with want even though you’d just given him one hell of an orgasm, but he wanted more. With you, he always wanted more.

Eddie didn’t even park the van properly, before he was out of the car, jeans zipped up, but the belt was dangling down. He didn’t care, he only cared about getting you naked and on top of his bed. Your giggle filled the cool air and then the interior of the trailer. The door wasn’t even shut behind you, when you felt Eddie’s hands on your shoulders, pulling the jacket off your body and discarding it on the couch.

“Is someone a little impatient?” you teased, turning around to him

“Guess whose fault that is.” He grabbed the bottom of your sweater and pulled it over your head straight away, throwing it in the general direction of your jacket, but he didn’t care where it landed in the end. His attention was on you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Slowly, you walked backwards towards his room, keeping an eye on him. On the way he eyed you up and down, his eyes stopping at your tits. On the way his chest rose and fell with every laboured breath.

“Sure you don’t,” Eddie scoffed, taking a big step towards you so that he was now nose to nose with you. He stole a kiss from your lips, before he put his hands on your hips and backed you up against the door of his room. Pressing you against it with his body weight, he ground his pelvis against you, making you moan in the process.

“Hard again already, Eds?” you breathed into his ear, biting down on his earlobe, before you laved the spot with your tongue. His hands on your hips tightened when you did this, his own hips pressing even more into you.

“‘S all your fault.” He leaned his head down, scraping his teeth over the side of your neck, down to your clavicle. He sucked on the skin there, making you close your eyes. Now, he was the one in charge, and you loved every bit of this. He detached his right hand from your hip, pushed his hand beneath your skirt. He had to move a bit back so that he could push his hand between your legs, groaning when he felt your wetness already coating the top of your thighs.

“You want me so badly, huh?” His breath was hot against your skin and you screamed his name, when he simultaneously pushed two fingers inside you and sucked your nipple into his hot mouth.

“Fuck… yes! Eddie please.” His fingers drove you crazy, but you know that something else would feel even better.

“Please what?” he asked, peppering kisses over your chest until he reached the other nipple, he bit down on it, pressed his flat tongue against it, listening to you, while he pulled his fingers back, rubbed them over your clit, making it harder and harder for you to form coherent sentences.

“Please… fuck me already!” you managed to say.

“Hmm I’ll think about it. There’s something else on my mind.” He smirked against your skin, before he reached around you to open the door. He wrapped one arm around you and backed you up further towards his bed.

“Eddie…” You were panting now, needing more of him, wanting to feel him finally, because the foreplay had pretty much started as soon as you’d entered the cinema earlier.

“Mh?” he mumbled, putting both hands on your waist to lift you up and then half throw you onto the bed. You bounced a little, and his eyes were fixed on your breasts for a moment, before he looked into your eyes again.

“You want me to beg?”

“Maybe…” Oh yes, he did, and you knew it, but by now, you were ready to give him anything he wanted. Especially when he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped his jeans, standing now in front of you only in his boxers, his cock straining against it, begging to be freed again.

“Please, please, please, Eddie! I want your cock inside me!” While you said that, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of your skirt and pulled it down. Not that it was in the way, but you wanted every kind of fabric off your body. “Please don’t make me wait.”

“You’re making it really hard for me to resist, princess,” Eddie said with a sigh, shaking his head.

“You’re not supposed to resist!” What the hell was he even talking about? You both wanted this, right? At least, he freed himself off the boxers before he got on the bed and kneeled between your legs.

“I know… but I said something earlier that I want to do now.”

For a moment, you wracked your brain, but when he lay down and pulled you closer to his face, hooking his arms beneath your thighs, you knew what he meant. When his lips connected with your cunt, your whole body tensed for a moment, before you relaxed again. He pressed his tongue against your clit before he lightly sucked on it. His hands were holding your thighs, keeping your right where you were so that you couldn’t move away from him.

“Fuck… this…” Your words came out all jumbled, mixed with moans that were getting louder and louder. Eddie loved when you let go, when you didn’t worry about anyone hearing you, but simply enjoyed the moment, showing him just how much you enjoyed it.

“Eds… It’s so fucking… good!” Remembering his reaction from earlier, you looked down at him, pushed his hair from his forehead. “And you look so pretty like this!”

You felt him moan against you, making you gasp in return. He was rutting against the sheets by now, begging for some friction himself, but he’d sworn to himself that he would make you come first. So he unwound one of his arms from your thighs, and while his tongue was still pleasuring your clit, he pushed two fingers inside you, making you arch your back off the bed, because he didn’t play around, curved his fingers just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. And you did. Your breathing got shallow and you felt that coil in your stomach tighten.

“Eddie… I’m… fuck!” you moaned gripping onto the sheets, tearing on them as that coil snapped and wave after wave of white hot pleasure washed over you. Your legs shook around him, your pussy clenched around his fingers, and he didn’t stop moving them until your orgasm was over. You were still catching your breath, eyes closed when he pulled his fingers back. You sighed, lazily raising one hand to run your fingers through his hair, when you felt him pepper kisses across your stomach, going faster the further upwards he got.

You pulled him up the last bit to kiss him hungrily. You might have been a little sensitive right now, but that didn’t change the fact that you still wanted more, wanted him.

“Eddie, please,” you whispered against his lips, gasping when you felt the head of his cock brush against your sensitive pussy.

“Please what?” As much as Eddie wanted to slide into you, he enjoyed this way too much.

“Please fill me with your come!” Your lips were close to his ear now, your words more of a whisper, because two could play that game. He shuddered when he heard your words before a grown left his lips, and he lost all self resolve.

Eddie grabbed the base of his cock, coated himself in your slick, gave himself a few firm strokes, before he brought himself in position and slid home in one fluid motion, burying himself balls deep inside you. A long, drawn-out moan left your lips, your hands clutching onto his shoulders as the mixture of pain and pleasure flooded your body.

Eddie stayed like this for a moment, until he felt you relax, until you wrapped your legs around him, trying to pull him even closer. He pulled out all the way only to slam back into you, setting an unrelenting pace right from the start, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were both so worked up already, that you knew none of you would last very long.

“Such a good girl… taking me so well,” Eddie mumbled against your shoulder, kissing his way down to your breast again.

“Just like that.. Yes Eddie!” you moaned his name again and again, your noises like music to Eddie’s ears that he couldn’t get enough of.

“Been teasing me so long…” he said through gritted teeth while his thrusts became slower, but harder, giving you just what you needed. “But you like doing that, don’t you.”

“Yes,” you admitted breathlessly, fingernails scratching over his shoulder blades.

“Such a little minx,” Eddie breathed out in a sigh. His eyes were on your hand as you took one of his and guided it up to your throat in a quiet plea. Eddie's eyes lit up and he groaned deep in his chest. His hand stayed on your throat, his thumb just beneath your ear, adding a little pressure but not stopping you from breathing. The look of adoration in his eyes, mixed with this new sensation made you feel your second orgasm of the night build.

“Eddie I’m,” you choked out, nails digging into his shoulders. His own movements became sloppy, because he was close.

“Yes… come for me… Be a good girl and let go. Come all over my cock!” Eddie demanded, adding a little more pressure on your throat, eyes fixed on your face, as you came undone beneath him. Your walls constricted around him as your orgasm hit you, a string of moans leaving your lips while you chanted his name over and over again.

When he felt you come, Eddie couldn’t hold back any longer. Hips stuttering he coated your walls with his seed, cursing under his breath, before a loud moan left his lips. His hand fell away from your throat, landing next to your body so that he could keep his own weight off you. In one swift motion, he wrapped one arm around you and turned you both around, so that you were now lying on top of him, his cock still buried inside you.

Eddie pushed your hair from your face to look into your eyes, while you were both catching your breaths, covered in sweat. Slowly, you opened your eyes to look at him, a smile spreading on your lips.

“Hi,” you whispered, a giggle coming over your lips, making your body shake a little, making Eddie suck in a breath. You were both sensitive due to overstimulation, but he didn’t want to break contact with you, held you right where you were.

“Hi,” he said back, leaning up to kiss your lips. “That was…”

“Yeah… No words needed.” You wouldn’t even know how to describe it, or you’d use too many words at once, because it had been perfect. “So how about-”

“Not yet.” Eddie didn’t even know what you wanted to say, but he didn’t want to get up or think about anything else. He just wanted to keep you like this for a moment longer, cockwarming on top of him.

“Five more minutes?” you suggested, because you were both in desperate need of a shower. When you angled your hips a little, you sucked in a breath and Eddie tightened his hold on you.

“If you keep going like this, that won’t be five more minutes… that will end in something else.” His chuckle reverberated through his whole body, sending shivers down your spine.

“Doesn’t sound so bad to be honest.” The smirk on your lips made him shake his head.

“You’re really gonna be the death of me, but what a way to go.” He pulled you in for another kiss to show you how serious he was.

Tag-list: @violetpenguinkris @tellhound @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @spideyanakin-interacts @bellamy-barnes @beepisbeep @snapefiction @hardysbitch @give-em-hellfire @sadbitchfangirl @ravenclawkimmi @lacrymosa-24 @ruinedbythehobbit @samlealea (please tell me if you do NOT want to be tagged for smut, then I'll leave you out for these fics)

Let me know (send me a message) if you want to be on one of my tag-lists. I have one for the Promises Series, Eddie x Reader, Steddie and Steve x Reader 💚

[leafofkudzu]

Hello again! I did say I was going to consider hosting more art parties if last month’s test run went well and, well, it did, so here I am again! Come one come all to [VS] Verdant Shield’s second ever monthly art party, this time with an expanded reach!

For those not in the loop from last month, what is an art party exactly? Well, they’re common occurrences in the Final Fantasy XIV community where artists of all kinds get together to chat, hang out, and create together! If a certain character catches your eye, you make some art of them in whatever way suits your fancy, then during or after the party post it under the tag for that party so others know where to look and spread the love around via reblogs/retweets/etc! I said it last time and it’ll always bear repeating - the ‘goal’ of attending an art party is not to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community! Attendees from last month’s party compared it to art jams, people watching, or attending a life drawing class with people you actually like. For more tangible examples, you can check back through the tag I intend to use for all of these monthly events - #VSArtParty - to see what previous partygoers have made!

I’m a lot less antsy about hosting these events now that I have a baseline, so much so that I want to involve those of you over on EU servers as well by hosting two rounds of parties, first on EU and then NA! However, I’ll still be keeping the squad(s) private and out of LFG to deter party-crashers, especially since this time we’ll be in a more well-known and easily-accessible location as the party moves Eastward into the Grove!

Check under the cut for details on how the event(s) will be laid out and how to reach the party location!

Welcome to the expanded details! First of all, the Garden of Dawn is the Grove’s worst-kept secret so I’d be surprised if you didn’t already know about it, but just in case, here’s a tl;dr on how to get there from Ronan’s Waypoint (aka the bottom floor of the Grove, you can drop down from Upper Commons Waypoint or Reckoner’s Waypoint to get to this starting point too):

Head North along the path towards the House of Aife PoI (not shown in the picture but you’ll see it on your map).

Take a hard left at said PoI and yeet yourself into this tiny pool that has a secret tunnelllll~

You’re here! It’s bigger than it looks in this picture but still relatively small, however I’ve attended events hosted here and can confirm that it can fit a lot of people, and also from last month I learned we don’t actually need a ton of space since we all squish up together to see each other anyway. However, if this space gets too crowded we’ll breach containment and relocate to a more public spot - very likely Starbower Nursery aka the little multi-level tavern on the South side of the map (it has its own PoI so it’s easy to spot)! If we do I’ll make sure to put the updated location in the squad message!

Okay! With that out of the way let’s get to the real important stuff.

This month’s event will consist of two separate art parties, each 3 hours long (though you’re welcome to stay later if you like), with a 1hr break in between so people interested in attending both can stretch, get snacks, etc etc.

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Time (that’s 3pm Eastern Standard Time for NA folks). I’ll be hosting it on my EU alt, so to join you can either whisper Aemryn of Dusk for an invite or type ‘/sqjoin aemryn of dusk’ in chat to join automatically!

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Standard Time (that’s 1am Central European Time for any sleepless EU folks). This one will be hosted on my main account, and you can join by either whispering Kirslyn for an invite or typing ‘/sqjoin kirslyn’ in chat to auto-join!

Like I mentioned before the cut, we’ll be using the same tag for both of these parties as we did for last month’s - #VSArtParty - and I think that’ll be the one we’ll continue to use in the future for these! There’s no spaces so that it can be used on Twitter as well if you’re still over there!

That’s it for now! Expect to see this reblogged a few times between now and then, and I hope to see you all there for another fun time! ♥

[mostly-marvel-musings]

DIY

A/N: This wasn’t planned. Or was it? @babyboibucky and @lil-stark Hope y’all like it!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+, a little breast kink, soft pregnancy smut, tons of domestic fluff.

Word count: 1400

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist: @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Taglists are open folks! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be tagged :))

.

Afternoon naps during the weekends had become a new favourite activity of yours. Waddling around the house with a heavily pregnant belly tired you out beyond belief, forcing you to take cat naps every chance you got. Bucky had developed a habit of joining you almost always because he never wished to miss a chance of holding you while you slept, also because he knew you were having trouble sleeping in the night.

There had been so many occasions when you would wake up only to find your husband gazing at your belly, hands lightly caressing while he whispered about anything and everything to the baby. The sight would fill your heart with love every single time, it had even brought you to tears the first time he did it.

However today, as sleep made it’s exit, you couldn’t find Bucky lying next to you where he usually was, instead there was some muffled cursing and muted thuds coming in from the nursery.

Pulling on Bucky’s old sweater, you padded towards the room to find him focused on his task at hand which was trying to read the instructions given on the manual of the crib you had purchased the day before.

He eyed the pieces of furniture he was supposed to put together warily before giving a confident nod to himself, as if mentally assuring himself that he could do it. And that was just too adorable to watch.

Leaning against the doorway, you stared at the love of your life for a while before announcing your arrival by clearing your throat.

“I thought we were going to do this together.”

Bucky glanced up in surprise before his face softened and he gave you a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck.

“I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You shook your head and made your way towards him, stopping when your swollen belly met his flat one and giving him a small peck on the cheek.

“So, you figure this thing out?”

“I think so. You wanna help?” He asked softly,

hands automatically placing themselves on your bump. Bucky couldn’t help but get a little excited seeing his clothes on your pregnant body, even though you had been doing that for years. According to him, you’d never looked more radiant.

“Alright let’s build this crib.”

.

Fifteen minutes into it and you found yourself getting irritated and snippy because Bucky wasn’t following the directions you’d been giving him.

“Are you sure that’s the right way?”

“Yes doll, I’m sure.”

“Because that’s not what’s given here—”

“I know what I’m doing (Y/N)!”

He snapped, clenching his jaw as he stared at you as you held up the instructions manual for him to see.

“Fine. Seems like you don’t need my help after all! Have fun.”

You threw the piece of paper on the floor and stormed back to the bedroom, nostrils flared and fists balled up tight. It was probably an unnecessarily extreme reaction but you couldn’t help it, your hormones were on overdrive.

Pacing about the room, you took a few cleansing breaths, ready to apologise for your outburst when Bucky walked in silently.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you sweetheart.” He spoke first.

“I’m sorry too Buck, I just I don’t know why I get this hyper so easily, it’s my—”

“Pregnancy brain, I know.” He nodded, giving you a small smile, the kind that asked permission to call a truce and move past the whole thing.

“How is my little girl?”

“She’s sleeping. But Mommie’s wide awake…”

He chuckled and approached you once he saw you grinning wide, pulling you close to capture your lips in a soft kiss. He broke the kiss but you grabbed him by the back of the neck to resume, murmuring a ‘not done yet’ against his mouth.

Bucky grazed his hands along your bare legs upwards, taking his sweater with them, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Your tongues danced in harmony until you broke apart only to throw the piece of clothing out of the way.

He took his time to let his darkened eyes rake over your naked form, the kind of look that made your pussy quiver in anticipation. There were times when you’d get aware of the fact that your body looked awkward and bloated because that’s how it felt for months, but not to Bucky. He was mesmerised by the way your beautiful body adapted to this new phase, the way your body shape changed to accomodate a baby, his baby.

He loved how sensitive it had gotten over these last few months, the way your breasts had swelled up in size along with your belly.

“So beautiful…” he whispered before guiding you over to the bed, helping you to climb on top of him after he’d removed his own clothing.

You had been a little extra sensitive and uninhibited in all departments during pregnancy, including all those times wanting to ride Bucky hard at any chance you got. It was almost a second craving along with those weird food demands you were making, all of which was considered normal in the ten thousand books he had got for you to read.

You licked your lips at the sight of Bucky’s erection waiting so eagerly for your warm touch before wrapping a hand around the length, a few pumps and a flick of your thumb to collect the precum later, you maneuvered yourself so your entrance lined up. Pulling your damp panties aside, you sunk down on his cock slowly, eliciting a sinful groan from his mouth.

The feeling of being so stretched out made you throw your head back and sigh as you stayed in that position, giving yourself some time to adjust.

Your hips rolled against his own at a languid pace as you anchored your hands on his chest, your hair cascading around your face before Bucky gently pulled them aside to watch your face.

His pubic bone grazed against your clit with every move as you rode him, your shallow breaths and pants filling the room. Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his metal hand come up to fondle your breasts.

Sitting up as best as he could, he latched his mouth around your nipple and sucked, making you cry out loud while his hand attended to the other one with gentleness. They felt heavier in Bucky’s hand, full of milk meant to feed and nourish your child after she would arrive. They were for him now, today to caress, to love and cherish.

“I can feel you’re getting close, doll.” He breathed, laying back down and bringing his flesh hand over to your stimulated nub, rubbing it in tight circles.

“Fuck that’s it. Keep doing that.”

He obliged, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, you felt your insides tighten and walls flutter around his cock before you let go. A loud cry escaped your mouth as the coil in your belly snapped and you shuddered, the intensity of your orgasm triggered Bucky’s as he dug his fingers in your hips, grabbing them roughly.

A few sloppy thrusts into your quivering pussy was all it took for him to paint your walls with thick ropes of cum, his head thrown back and a look of bliss on his features.

He laid you down on your back carefully after pulling out, watching his cum dribble out onto your thighs before he cleaned you up with a washcloth and returned to bed.

Your skin was flushed and a lazy grin decorated your face as he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing feather light kisses there while running a hand all over your heated body.

He felt his little girl kick against his hand as he splayed it across your bump, making you look at each other and back down where she kept nudging, letting you know it was time to eat.

“Alright alright! I’m getting up. You want Daddy to make his delicious grilled cheese?”

Your eyes held a glint mischief as you looked at Bucky, giving him your best puppy dog look which you knew always worked.

“Come on Momma bear. I’ll make you all the grilled cheeses you want.”

[the-himawari]

A3! Settsu Banri - Translation [SSR] MANKAI Party (3/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

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Sakuya: Having the three of us gathered together feels like a blast from the past, doesn’t it?

Masumi: …Not really.

Banri: Geez, you’re blunt as always.

Tenma: Nothing’s changed, huh?

Izumi: (Seeing the three Hanasaki High students all present does make me feel a little nostalgic.) (I’m sure we’ll get to hear some memorable stories from those three today.)

-pause-

Banri: Thanks for comin’ today.

Sakuya: Banri-kun, happy birthday!

Masumi: …Happy birthday.

Tenma: Happy birthday, Banri-san.

Guest A: Happy birthday, Banri-kun!

Guest B: Banri-kun! You’re so cool~!

Guest C: With Tenma-kun, Sakuya-kun and Masumi-kun as guests, maybe we’ll get to hear stories from their high school days!? I can’t wait…!

Banri: Aight, let’s get the VLOG viewing party segment started right away.

-pause-

Banri: “Today, I got Tenma to come shoppin’ with me as we search for a pair of sneakers I was dying to get.” “That bein’ said, Tenma’s also in charge of the camera. Thanks, Tenma.”

Tenma: “Yeah, leave it to me.”

-pause-

Guest A: It’s celebrity shopping…!

Guest B: Banri-kun’s taste is on point, as expected~.

Sakuya: Banri-kun, you never look at the price tag until you buy something, huh… If it was me, I’d look at the price first thing…

Guest C: Yeah! That’s right!

Banri: Ah, really? I never really noticed.

Masumi: Isn’t the price tag what you look at at the time of purchase?

Tenma: Exactly.

Sakuya: Ehh!

Guest B: Masumi-kun’s a celeb too…!

Guest E: I empathize with regular folk like Sakuya-kun…!

Guest F: I’m with Sakuya-kun too! But shopping like a celebrity sure is nice too…!

-pause-

Banri: “The three of us studied for a test at that café before.”

Tenma: “That reminds me, Juza-san, Taichi and I joined you guys later…”

-pause-

Sakuya: That brings back memories! We had a match between Hana High and O High to see who could answer the questions faster.

Masumi: …It wasn’t even a match though.

Tenma: Guh…

Guest A: That’s the Hana High team for you.

Guest B: They must get along, studying for tests and stuff together~.

-pause-

Tenma: “That shoe store is way too much of a hole in the wall.”

Banri: “I know, right? Masumi and I bought some rare sneakers, but Sakuya didn’t buy anythin’.”

-pause-

Masumi: …That happened too.

Sakuya: Right! I’d love the three of us to hang out together again. But I guess only Banri-kun and Masumi-kun would end up buying something again.

Banri: How ‘bout Masumi and I choose then? Somethin’ even Sakuya can buy.

-pause-

Banri: “…It sure feels good findin’ what you were looking for, doesn’t it?” “…And so, that’s the end of my VLOG. Thanks for watchin’.”

-pause-

*applause*

Masumi: …Wait, what was the sight you wanted to show us?

Banri: Who knows. I’ll leave it up to your interpretation. You can look at it that way.

Masumi: What the heck?

Sakuya: Now, now. I had fun being able to see those nostalgic sights after such a long time.

Tenma: We don’t show our shopping trips much either.

Banri: Did y’all enjoy yourselves?

Guest A: I had a blast!

Guest B: Banri-kun looked so cute when he found the sneakers!

Sakuya: Banri-kun did look like he was in high spirits when he spotted the shoes.

Tenma: Well, he had been searching for a long time.

Banri: Pff… I know I said this at the end, but it feels amazin’ finding what you’re looking for, doesn’t it? (I had always been searching for that somethin’ that would set my heart ablaze. Then I found it, and now I’m standing here.) I kinda glossed over it in my VLOG… But I’ll convey myself without hidin’ anything on stage. Thoroughly, through my acting. So, I’ll continue countin’ on your support from here on out.

*applause*

-pause-

Masumi: It’s about time to wrap up the end.

Sakuya: It was so fun, the time passed by in the blink of an eye.

Banri: Alright, last but not least is my photoshoot time. Go for it, Tenma.

Tenma: On it.

Banri: This outfit is amazin’, ain’t it? Take some commemorative shots, everyone.

Guest A: We’re allowed to!?

Guest B: YAY!

Banri: It’s a special service just for today.

Guests: KYAHH!!

Masumi: Looking good.

Tenma: If Kazunari was here, he’d be snapping up more photos than anyone else.

Sakuya: Ahaha, you’re so right.

Banri: M’kay, let’s start the photoshoot time filled with all my gratitude.

*click, click, click*

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