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letteredlettered · 1 month ago

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feedback and fic in fandom (3 f's of our own)

This conversation about feedback on fic says everything I’ve been wanting to say better than I could say it. But I’ll go ahead and try anyway.

Over the last five years or so there have been some great discussions around the rise of commodification of fanworks and decline of fandom community. This commodification looks a bit like enshittification of the internet: a cool site exists; its popularity makes someone realize they can get money from it; it has more and more ads; the site adds features to drive engagement, including The Algorithm; the things that made the site cool start to fall away. The site exists now as a vehicle purely to get clicks, and the people on it are on it solely to get clicks—to make money, to be successful, for some kind of social cachet.

AO3 doesn’t have advertisements. It’s not making money. But what is happening to fandom is proof of concept that enshittification changes the way we as humans engage. A cool website in 2004 was often a community space where you could meet people, have conversations, find cool things, and make cool things. A cool website in 2024 is either a content farm that will continually feed you enough content to hold your attention, or a social media site where your participation will come with stats to show you whether you are holding the attention of others.

AO3 wasn’t built to be a community space. It doesn’t have great functions for meeting people and having conversations. The idea was that, because fandom community spaces already existed, AO3 would serve the part of that community where you can find the cool things and store the cool things you made. It was meant to be a library in a city, not the whole city itself.

But it was also never meant to be a website in 2024, a content farm constantly generating content solely for your clicks and eyeballs and ad revenue, or a social media site where the content creators themselves vie for your clicks and eyeballs.

The most common talking point when people discuss the enshittification of fandom is the folks out there who are treating AO3 as that first kind of enshittified website: the content farm. This discussion is about how people treat fanfic as a product for consumption.

The post that kicked off the discussion on @sitp-recs’s blog was about someone who wasn’t getting very many kudos or comments on their fic, and was feeling pretty demoralized about it, then joined a discord server and found an entire channel dedicated to people loving their fic. But those on that server had never come to share that love with the author, which the author found really discouraging.

There are more and more stories like this. Someone on tiktok pulls a quote from a fic on AO3 and makes a 10-second video with them staring at a wall, the quote pasted at the bottom, music playing over it. It has 100,000 hearts, and 100 comments with people gushing over the fic, which has 80 kudos on AO3. Overall, people notice more and more hits on their fics, but fewer and fewer comments or even kudos. Fewer and fewer people seem to feel the need to interact with the author, instead treating the fic like a product to be used and discarded—which the enshittified internet (a stunning feature of late-stage capitalism!) encourages. The fandom community is dying, these stories conclude.

I agree. 100%. Both of the stories above have happened to me—viral tiktoks about my fic, secret discord channels to follow and discuss my fic—and let me tell you, it fucking sucks.

But from these observations about fandom enshittification, the discussion continues in a very odd direction. The solution to the death of fandom community is our favorite enshittification buzzword: engagement. We should engage the authors. They’re producing these products for free. We consume them at no cost. We must demonstrate our gratitude by paying them back.

It’s as though the capitalist consumption that the enshittified web encourages is so ingrained within us that we must think in terms of payment, in terms of exchange, transaction. Or as though, by forgoing payment, authors are some kind of martyrs defying capitalism, and the only way to honor their great sacrifice is comments and kudos.

Indeed, the discourse around this sometimes does veer away from capitalist rhetoric into something that smells almost religious in desperation. Authors are gods who bestow us mere mortals with the fruits of their labor benevolently, through love; the least we can do is worship them. Meanwhile the authors adopt the groveling sentiment of starving artists: I produce great art; I only humbly ask that you feed me in return.

These kinds of entreaties make my skin crawl for a number of reasons. I’m not a god. I’m not writing because I love you. I don’t expect your worship or even your praise.

I think the thing that disturbs me the most about it is that it suggests that authors (or, if the OP is feeling generous fan work creators) are the most important people in fandom. I’ve even seen posts stating that without creators, fandom wouldn’t exist—as though readers aren’t just as important. As though conversations where people discuss characterizations and plot points and randomly spin out interpretations and ideas and thoughts related to canon are meaningless. I’ve even seen people scramble to include folks having these discussions as “creators,” as though realizing that these people are necessary and integral to fandom communities but unable to drop the idea that the producers are the ones who are important. As though that person who just lurks can never count.

Is this what community is? When you join the queer community, are you expected to produce a product of your queerness? If not, must you actively participate and give back to the queer community in order to be considered a part of it? Or is it enough that you are queer, that you exist as a queer person and want to be around others who are queer, you want to be a part of something? What is community, anyway?

The problem with people raising the authors above everyone else in the community and demanding that tribute be paid is that they are decrying the “content farm” style of 2024 website out of one side of their mouth, but out of the other side are instead demanding that AO3 become a 2024-style social media website. Authors are influencers. “Engagement” and clicks are the things that really matter. They are in fact suggesting that the way to solve the commodification of fanfic is by “paying authors back” with stats.

Before anyone comes at me with the idea that comments aren’t just “stats,” I will clarify what I mean. There are literally hundreds of posts on tumblr alone claiming that any comment “helps” the author. Someone replies that they are shy to comment. Someone else replies that incoherent keyboard smashes, a single emoji, or the comment “kudos” are all that is required to satisfy the author, all that is required as tribute—all that is required as payment to keep this economy healthy.

I’m not condemning the comments that are keyboard smashes or emojis or a single kind word. I receive them. They make me happy. If anyone wants to leave such a comment on my fics, I’m really grateful for it. But this is not community-building. This is a transaction. In @yiiiiiiiikes25’s excellent response in the post linked at the beginning, they point out that “you have a cool hat” is something that is “perfectly nice” to hear from someone—and it is! We all want to be told we have a cool hat! But as they go on to say, what builds community is interactions that are deep and specific, interactions that are rich in quality, not in quantity. A kudos or a comment that says only ❤️are lovely things to receive, but they don’t build community.

My reaction, when I see people begging for kudos and comments as the only means by which to keep fandom community alive, is very close to @eleadore's. I want to say, “No. Readers do not need to comment or kudos. Believe not these hucksters who claim to know the appropriate method of fandom participation. Participate as you feel able, or not at all; nothing is required of you.”

I’ve been told before (several times) that I’m not qualified to participate in such discussions because I am an established author who has some fics with very high stats. It doesn’t matter that I have also been a new writer with almost no one reading my fics. It doesn’t matter that I still write in new fandoms where no one in that fandom knows me. It doesn’t matter that I, like any human being, still care about receiving recognition and attention and praise.

And maybe that’s correct. I personally don’t think that billionaires have a place in deciding the direction of the economy, and--if we're really going to consider fandom an economy--in fandom terms, if I’m not a billionaire, or even a millionaire, I’m definitely in the infamous “one percent.” So, just as no one wants to hear Elon Musk say “money isn’t everything,” maybe it’s not my place to say “kudos isn’t required, actually.”

That said, I’m not the only one who has a problem with the stats-based discourse around fandom community. However, the main counter-response to this discussion I see goes something like this: you shouldn’t be writing fic for validation. If you’re writing for attention, you’re doing it for the wrong reason. Authors should write fic because they love it without any expectation of return.

This is, in my opinion, missing the point of what is meant by fandom community.

I wrote fanfic before I knew that fanfic, as a concept, existed. I read books; I wanted them to be different; I wrote little stories for myself with new endings, with self-inserts, with cross-overs, with alternate universes. I did it for myself in the 90s. It never occurred to me that anyone else would do this, much less that people would share.

As @faiell points out—creating and sharing are two different things. I created fics for myself, but I decided to share them in the early 2000s because other people might like them, too. And of course, I wanted to hear whether other people liked them. How could I not? I might decorate my home just for me and not for anyone else’s preferences, but when people come over and say my house is nice, how can I not enjoy that? And if a lot of people think my house is nice, which encourages me to post pictures of it online, isn’t it understandable I might do so with the hope that more people will say my house is nice? And, honestly, if no one is appreciating my pictures, I probably won’t continue to go through the trouble of taking them and posting them. I’ll just enjoy my house that I decorated without sharing, the end.

When I found out there were whole fannish communities where people discussed canon and tossed ideas around about it, made theories and prompts and insights into the characters, fics they had written and recs for other fics and analyses of fics and art based on fics and fics based on art—I wanted to be a part of that, too. Now, sometimes, I write fic not out of an internal need to do so but out of a desire to participate in that community.

The idea that we write fic only for the love of it, then post it only because we possess it, is a process entirely centered on the self. It’s fandom in a vacuum. The idea that we share this thing, that we feel pleasure if someone likes it but feel nothing at all if no one says anything about it, that it’s completely okay to be ignored and unseen—that’s not what a community is either. That’s some weird sort of self-aggrandizement through self-effacement—because yes, there is often a weird kind of virtue-signaling in this kind of discourse.

I say this as someone who has virtue-signaled in that way: “some people write for stats, but I write for myself.” It’s bullshit. Sure, I write for myself, but why post it on the internet? Honestly, said virtue has a whiff of the capitalist machine, which would like you to produce for the sake of production, work for the sake of work. The noblest among us expect no recompense for that which they give!

The reason that I’m bringing this back around to capitalism is that capitalism actively works to dismantle community. The reason that folks are out here pleading for “engagement” in order to “pay back” authors for the products they give us “for free” is because people no longer even have the language to discuss how to participate in meaningful community. And frankly, how to build back fandom community, in the face of enshittification, is getting harder and harder to see.

But I do think that if we value fanfic and the fanfic community, it’s really, really not constructive to judge whether someone’s reasons for writing fanfic are valid. It’s also weird to me that it would be considered wrong that someone’s reason for sharing fanfic is because they would like to receive some recognition for it, when in fact that seems to be the most natural reason in the world for sharing something so private and vulnerable with the world.

Let’s go back to that idea of how hurtful it is to find out your fanfic is trending on tiktok without anyone from tiktok saying anything to you about your fic, or how it can be painful to find out there’s a secret discord channel dedicated to your fic. The people who respond to that with, “Ah, but you shouldn’t be writing to get attention!” are missing the point. The fic did get attention. It got lots. Attention obviously wasn't why the writer was writing--they were writing to participate, and they didn't get to. At all.

However, if your conclusion is that the author was upset because these particular stats were not accruing under this author’s profile, thereby preventing them from achieving the vaunted status of BNF and influencer—I don’t know, maybe you’re right. But I don’t think that’s why I, personally, have been hurt by these things, and I doubt it’s what hurt the people in these posts either. They’re hurt because they want to participate, and they have been systematically excluded by the very people they thought were part of the community they thought they could participate in.

Sure, if those folks from tiktok and the discord server all came and showered the author with kudos and comments that said “kudos,” the author might have felt satisfied enough with the quantity of this recognition that they would continue writing. But in the end, this still does nothing to address the problem of fandom community, in which the deep, meaningful recognition, interactions, and relationships in fandom are getting harder and harder to have and to build, as a result of how people now expect to engage in online spaces.

So, how to address the problem of fandom community? You probably read this long, long post hoping that I had an answer, and for that I must apologize. I don’t have solutions. My intent was to be descriptive, rather than prescriptive. I wished to outline the problems that I’m seeing in what was hopefully a slightly new or at least thought-provoking way, rather than offer solutions.

But, now that I’m talking about being prescriptive, maybe I can offer one suggestion, which is—maybe the solution to this isn’t about prescribing behavior. I do understand the irony in writing a prescription saying we shouldn’t prescribe people, but I’m going to write it anyway:

Maybe we shouldn’t be telling anyone the appropriate reasons for writing fanfic or for sharing it. Maybe we shouldn’t be telling readers they need to kudos or need to comment. If we’re going to go pointing fingers, we should be pointing at the institutions of capitalism that have made the internet what it is today—but I don’t think that’s going to solve the problem either.

But I do think that describing this problem, understanding what it actually is, not blaming readers for it and not blaming authors for it—I do think that helps. The discussion I linked at the beginning of this post is what I think of as the fandom I miss, the fandom that's now harder and harder to access, the fandom that is dying. That fandom was a social space where people had opinions and disagreed and went back and forth and gazed at their navels and then talked about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

In the words of @yiiiiiiiikes25, it was a fuckin’ discussion about hats. And we’re hungry for it.

#fandom #long post #fic #feedback #comment culture

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cherubofthenight · 16 days ago

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It really is that damn phone (a rant)

(written nov 18th, 2024)

I was in my bed-rotting, depressed, don’t know what to do with my life nor do I care era up until this morning. And I’m starting to think it’s the people around me bc as soon as I’m not at work, I’m suddenly the most productive person ever.

I’ve been on a mission to become that dream version of myself (which for me requires some physical effort on my part) and shifting and I realized- wait the diff between the dream ver of myself and my dr self only have like slight physical differences. But overall, same mindset, same boundaries, standards & morals. Same person on the inside.

So I thought why make a big deal out of this stuff? Why make a big deal out of being in your dr physically. Stay with me now. Like I try to think of things to do and how to behave and react to stay aligned with my desired self which.. I think I try too hard and it ultimately burns me out. So then I have no discipline to continue- just little sparks of motivation every once in a while.

I’ve realized I feel most at peace when I let things flow without trying too hard. Like when I journal or have inner monologues, sometimes I think—why not shift my awareness to my DR? And suddenly, it feels so natural. Lately, I’ve been focusing on just moving my awareness there instead of worrying about proof or the physical. It’s really just about letting myself tune in, no overthinking needed. Of course, this can still be tricky sometimes (I get sidetracked a lot), but that’s exactly why I started this blog—to explore and share the process as I go.

Anyways, back to the title. It’s that damn phone. THIS IS WHY I SAY GET HOBBIES. I came off Tumblr—I’m not on it as much as I used to be. I queue up my posts when I find something I want to share, then I just focus on me. That’s why I love meditation. Because meditation can be anything. What I just said about inner monologues? You don’t even have to call that meditation—I don’t, most of the time. It’s just about shifting your awareness, and that can happen in a moment. No need for a long process. Just a shift in focus, and suddenly, you’re right where you want to be. I only recently started to grasp that actually.

My last shifting attempt. I’m gonna put the video for what I did and I felt soo close to my dr (the one I had back then) and like it just in reach of my fingertips until it wasn’t. I panicked I freaked out, I lost all hope and inspiration and I had no discipline because I thought “oh shit what do I gotta do now? Do I have to do something now? How do I do this more? How do I get this feeling more? Like what.. what to do… um shit..” and I never got close to that dr ever again. And I hate methods so.. imagine how shocked I felt.

Shaysplanett on TikTok (@shaysplanet)

And then I never tried again, yk why? We get comfortable, we get distracted by the 3D and suddenly we’re forgetting we have desires and we wanna shift to different places

I used to hate reblogging a lot of LOA posts at a time because this community is just things we already know repeated over and over and over again. I also thought to myself.. hm.. what could I post (loa-related) on this blog? And I couldn’t come up with shit. Because it’s nothing new. Law of assumption is nothing new. It’s just recycled shit over and over put in different, pretty words so more people would understand it properly but I think we understand and we’re just not applying. But yet here I am making this post: saying what we know already (and I probably will keep doing that bc it’s how I remind myself)

yeah.

All of this to say what we’ve all heard a million times before: you don’t wanna be thinking too hard about your desire and then end up being consumed by negative thoughts of not having your desire. The more time you spend scrolling and reading about loa and shifting, the most pressure you put on yourself and you miss the one thing you have to do: change your assumption/move your awareness. If you come to the point that you’re spiraling, STOP. Take a breath. Remind yourself that everything is going to be great. Do something else.

(posting this bc i plan to actually take a break from tumblr and finally listen to myself. if you see posts, its bc they're queued. hopefully i actually take the break this time. ps i think im starting to move away from looking at shifting solely from a loa standpoint)

#cherubofthenight #divine feminine energy #loassumption #loa #law of assumption #affirmations #loa rant #shifting #shifting blog #reality shifting #shifting community #shifting motivation #shiftblr #loablr #divider by fairytopea

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fantasylandloser · 1 year ago

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marriage pact

summary: besties that plan to get married

warnings: smut, mdni, dry humping, idrk what else I should put here so message me and lmk, steve's happy trail, slutty steve, big dick steve

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/n: This started off as one thing then it manifested into something else, and this is 4k words of idk and there MIGHT be a part 2

update here is part 2

****

Steve loved your slumber parties that had carried over from your childhood. Initially the two of you would binge watch movies, while his parents were who knows where. Up until you were about twelve he slept in the bed with you until one day your parents decided that he couldn’t do that anymore and gave him his own room for when he stayed over.

Your family was well off due to your father being in business with his and it was probably no big deal for them, but Steve appreciated it nevertheless. He felt so loved in your home, so he made it his second. He was there at least three nights a week, until the two of you got into highschool and his dad wanted him to get serious about basketball. Then it was late night practices and meeting up with girls. He still came around at least once a week for dinners, but usually he was busy.

You were surprised when he didn’t go away for college. Even more so when he decided to get his own job and start at the community college in Hawkins instead of living off his parents. Eventually he was back to being at your house all the time, until one day your mom randomly asked him to move in, suggesting that he was there all the time anyway. Which he agreed to with speed. So, now your slumber parties were more frequent, and more fun now that you were adults and your mom took away the rule that Steve couldn’t stay in your room.

Now your slumber parties included the two of you gossiping for hours on end about who was pregnant, talking through movies, and newly you doing Steve’s skincare. At first he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it, until one day you decided you didn’t feel like it and he begged you to do it anyway.

“Close your eyes.” You say from your position on his stomach, your thighs fitting snug on each side of him. One of his hands resting on each one. You didn’t need to be sitting on him of course, but Steve claimed it would be easier on your back if he were laying down (which was not true) but you went along with it because it was Steve.

“So bossy.” He murmurs but closes his eyes nonetheless, his fingers messing with the hem of your shorts. You hum in acknowledgement not really able to focus on the task at hand.

“Is this new?” Steve asks, referring to the cool goopy substance that you were putting on his face.

“Yeah, I’m testing it on you before I put it on my face.” You say jokingly. But not really, considering that's what you were actually doing.

The snort Steve lets out brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’ve been your test dummy since we were kids so I’m not surprised.”

“Glad that you finally accepted the dynamic of this friendship. Now stop talking.” He huffs at the command but still listens anyway, a small smile resting on his face,that you could never ask him to wipe away. Your brain short circuits a bit when he pulls his hand back to the center of your thigh, his thumb continuously rubbing over the smooth skin. You couldn’t help but wonder when that got added to the dynamic of your friendship.

“Now sit with that for ten minutes.” You could see him getting ready to protest so you quickly added, “and be still!” You know he’s gonna bitch about it when you go to take the mask off. He hates sitting still more than anything but he could deal for ten minutes.

When he feels the pressure from your body weight pressing into his stomach start to lighten, his hands finding your waist even with his eyes closed.

“Steve.” You huff, knowing he’s not going to let you move until he can, but it’s not like you actually put up a fight. Not like you actually wanted to be away from his warmth. So you stayed simply sitting on him for ten minutes. Watching him, thinking about how he was still so pretty even with the mask on his face.

When it was time for you to take it off. You almost didn’t want to, but you did , pleased to see that the product left him glowing.

Steve finally opened his eyes after almost falling asleep when he heard you sigh sweetly. “All done?” He asks hoping that you weren’t even though he’d been laying there for about thirty minutes.

“Yep.” You say until you remember the little gift you picked up for him at the store. “Wait one more thing.” Steve lets you get off him this time, a little hesitant but you don’t point it out.

When you come back with what looked like a broken whisk, Steve was a little reluctant. “I think this is where my test dummy days end.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics sliding back to your spot on his stomach.

“You’ll like it.” You tell him. Despite the growing anticipation about whatever the device was, Steve is quick to accept you and it into his space, his hands on your hips to steady you as you sit down.

“I doubt- fuckkk.” Steve moans raggedly, cutting himself off and surprising you, making you stop your movements with the hair massager. You catch your composure quickly though, continuing to massage his scalp.

“So dramatic.” You try to tease, to lighten the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. He hooked up with half the girls in your class, so his likes and dislikes tended to get around and made for some pretty interesting lunch room conversations.

You didn’t realize a scalp massage would elicit the same reaction. You also didn’t realize that his reaction would have an effect on you. His whole body seemed to glitch. HIs eyes are barely able to stay open and the grip on your hips tightening.

Once his initial dramatics calmed down, he began letting out soft appreciative sighs. His grip on you fades to soft circles on your thighs.

“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells you, with his eyes closed. You knew he meant it. He told you that he wanted to marry you one day in high school. He’d been drunk but he let you all the way in on his plan to make a life with you, one day when you’re both ready.

He told you how he thought about building a house for you, and having your last name be harrington and how he wanted to have a bunch of kids with you. You thought he’d been joking teasing him about it the next day, but he simply smiled at you with a blush forming on his cheeks telling you that he meant it.

Ever since then, every couple of months he’d say it again. Like he was reminding you, or really asking you to wait for him. Which you did. Neither of you had made much of a move or anything and sometimes one of you would date someone else, but in the back of your mind you would always remember that you were marrying Steve and that’s just the way it was.

“Mhmm.” You hum, simply acknowledging like usual. To your surprise Steve's eyes open and he zeroes in on your face.

“I’m serious.” He’d never done this before, made more room for conversation about it. He seemed like he wanted more than gentle acknowledgment.

“I know.” You say, pretending to busy yourself as you set the massager to the side, just to get away from the intense way he’s looking at you. When he sits up on the headboard you know he means business. You never guessed now would be the time you finally actually talked about it.

“Do you really?” He asks. Steve didn’t know if you knew how serious he was.

“Yeah.. we’re getting married.” You tell him, fidgeting with one of his hands in your, absently looking at his nails instead of him. “You’re gonna build me a two story house, two streets away from my moms. In that field we used to play in. And we’re gonna have six babies and I will not let you help me name any of them because I already have a list.” You catch a quick glimpse of his face. “I remember.” You tell him.

You expect him to let it go now that you’ve rehashed the entire plan he layed out for you years ago. You don’t remember when you got so attached to the idea. Or when you started contributing your own dreams to the plan but it had grown for you and speaking it out loud you realized how badly you needed it to happen.

“You have a list?” Steve’s chest was warm as it dawned on him that you wanted a future with him the same way he did with you.

Your face warmed, embarrassed thinking that he would tease you. “Yes. They’re all non negotiable.”

“Can I see it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please, honey.” Honey. This is no longer best friend Steve. This is future husband Steve, making his first ever appearance.

When you shake your head with a shy smile, Steve can’t help but smile back.”Why not?” He asks you in that same soft voice that had you feeling gooey on the inside.

“Stop using that voice.” You whisper, feeling flushed. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never known you to be shy, but here you were being all bossy while hiding your face in his neck.

“You’re so perfect.” He’s teasing you, trying to see how embarrassed you’ll get. He also means every bit. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You’re bein’ weird.” You tell him unsure what to do with yourself with all these changes being made so quickly.

“It was weird not telling you how beautiful you are everyday.” You don’t expect him to keep listing. “So sweet, too.” He adds. “Always taking care of me and never letting me praise you for it. I can’t wait to take care of you.” The implications of that do not go over your head. “Bet you’ll be such a good little wife.”

Steve expects you to make some little quip or try to play off how embarrassed you feel. He’s expecting you to descelate how quickly he’s moving. But instead your voice whispers “I hope so.” You’re right in his ear too, so he knows he isn’t mistaken and he knows that this is the last night you’ll ever consider yourself just friends.

*****

Steve should have kissed you last night. He can’t help but think about that over and over, as he realizes he didn’t seal the deal. He should have done something to prove to you how serious he was.

But it was too late because he didn’t kiss you and the morning had been decidedly awkward when you realized you didn’t know what any of that meant for your immediate friendship. Because initially the plan had been to wait. Was the wait over? Did you want it to be over? You spent the majority of your day trying not to think about it. Steve however wouldn’t shut up about it. Sadly for Robin she had to be on the receiving end of this conversation.

“Robin, this is serious. What if I fucked everything up? What if she thinks I’m leading her on?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, seemingly deep in thought.

“I doubt that. I mean you’re planning on marrying her- which I take offense to not knowing about this little pact or whatever,” she adds. “But that’s like the total opposite of leading on.” She tries to reassure wanting to really get Steve to shut up about it.

“No you don’t get it-” Steve starts again, only to be interrupted.

“Ughhhh!! How can I not get it if this is your sixth time going over it? Steve, I get it! You’re overthinking this when it’s really simple.” Robin gestures. “You love her and you want to get married and blah blah blah, but before you guys get married how about you try to, I don’t know actually date?” She says sarcastically. “Unless you were just going to propose after a thousand years of sleepovers and dating other people.” She adds.

And although it was unnecessarily sassy, Steve realized that Robin might have a point. “So I should ask her out?” He tries to clarify much to Robin’s dismay. Luckily for her the door opening saved her from another round of easily answered questions. And even more lucky for her it was you and not an actual customer.

“Hey what are you-” Steve was cut off by you taking his hand and dragging him to where you knew the break room was after bringing him lunch on multiple occasions. You had tried and failed to not think about this whole situation.

The one thing that had been bothering you the most is how long it was taking. You realized it was because you let Steve call the shots, and you quickly remembered why you never let Steve call the shots. Steve took too long to make decisions and well you knew what you wanted. So you had always been the leader in your friendship, deciding what movies you’d watch, what games you’d play, the parties you would go to. Everything really. You could do that here too, you realized.

When you close the door behind you Steve is looking at you expectantly. He’s half thinking that you’re gonna cuss him out, so he doesn’t expect it when you grab him by his shirt to kiss him. You’re all over him for about five seconds. Your scent. Your taste. Your skin. Your hair. Then you’re gone. Patting his shirt back in place, shakily. You’re nervous. Steve realizes.

“Okay that was all-” Steve’s pulling you back to him before you can run off. Letting his lips capture yours just the way he’d dreamed of. Feeling you relax into him as he cradles your face.

“So sweet.” He murmurs against your lips. He finds it amusing how the words send you back into your shyness from last night. The way you went from determined to timid and unable to even look at him properly. Steve was curious about this side of you. You were never this easily flustered.

“When did you get so shy?” He asks and you know he’s taunting you. He’s still holding you close to him, his fingers messing with the ends of your hair as he tries to find any reason to keep touching you.

“M’not.” You oppose half-heartedly. He lets out a gentle sound of acknowledgment, obviously ignoring you, and knowing he would press all those buttons later. Privately.

“You’re so beautiful.” You think he’s still teasing you and you hate that it's working when you feel your face heat up and you’re hiding it in his chest. Steve really means it though, it was the first thought that came to his head when he saw you walking through the door. Your hair free and your face without makeup. A skirt that your mom would deem a few inches too short and a shirt that he’s seen a million times because you love it so much.

Gathering your courage, you finally look at him. His kiss swollen lips are the first thing that grabs your attention the second is the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s waiting on you to call the next shot.

“Will Robin be okay, if we go to your car?” The next few moments are a blur because now he’s the one dragging you out of the breakroom, pausing only long enough for Steve to beg Robin to cover for him. Which she agreed to with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.

You were expecting Steve to open the back door and usher you inside. Instead he opens the driver side and pats his lap expectantly, after moving his seat all the way back. When you hesitate he’s grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to where he wants you. “What if someone sees us?” You ask, knowing how fast information like this whipped around town.

“Nobody parks on this side, honey.” Steve tells you those big puppy dog eyes staring into you. And because he’s Steve, and he’s calling you honey, and you trust him more than anyone you know, you believe him.

“Okay.” Is all you say before your lips are back on Steve’s. It was a sweet kiss really, and Steve tried to let you control it for a while, until you were trying to back away from him again. With his experienced lips working over yours, you’re so consumed you barely realize the way you’re grinding yourself over his lap. Well not until his hands are on your ass, pushing your skirt up and controlling your once sloppy movement.

“There you go, sweetheart.” He says breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. His lips find purchase against your neck. He kisses his way up the slope of it, relishing in the sound of your little gasps, until one particular spot sends a shudder down your spine. He sucks that spot.

Absent-mindedly, your hands find their way off his shoulders and into his hair, barely thinking about it twice before you rake your nails across his scalp softly. The soft hum he lets out gives you indication that you should continue. Your hands stay in his hair for a bit, and you’re too nervous to actually pull it, but it does get you thinking about the other places on his body he has hair. Namely his happy trail. It sat perfectly right in between his abs and you usually had to avoid looking for your own sake.

You’re yanking his shirt out of his jeans before you give it much more thought. And even though you’re too busy humping Steve to get a good look, feeling it against your bare hands has you whimpering.

“Stevie-” You’re cut off by your own moan as your clit catches perfectly against Steve’s zipper. It doesn’t get past Steve that you sound so fucked out. Your tone bordering on a whine, clearly frustrated.

“Look at you.” Steve coos. “Doin’ such a good job for me, sweet girl.” Pressing a light kiss to your lips. Steve couldn’t help watching you chase your own pleasure, shivering at his praise.. Your eyes pinched shut, but your hands are all over him like you know every part of his body.

“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks with his hands pushing your hair out your face. When you do, he admires how dazed you look. How you probably barely remember your own name. “There she is.” Steve knew he was about two seconds from coming in his pants. He was also aware of the fact that once you were done with him he’d have to go back inside to finish working his shift.

“Stevie” You start again, “M’so close. Feels so good.” You tell him, your movements becoming frantic causing your boobs to sway deliciously. You don’t register your top being pulled down, until you feel Steve licking at your nipple.

A hungry groan rising from the back of his throat. “Perfect fucking tits.” His hands leave your ass, leaving the pace to you. He pinches your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to test your reaction. When you lurch into him. Humping him harder than before, he knows he’s a goner. But you are first. Your orgasm hits you so fast, it surprises you with tears springing to your eyes at the intensity.

Steve’s a close second behind you, leaving the two of you panting and trying to catch your breath. As soon as Steve recovers he’s tending to you, pulling your top back in place, trying to see how you felt.

He can’t help but admire that after that you went right back to your embarrassed state, obviously self conscious. “You’re perfect.” He tells you again, pressing another light kiss to your lips. When you grin at him, his heart beats fast and he can’t help but be happy at the line the two of you just crossed.

“You too.” You say, your head is still a bit fuzzy as you check the damage. You’re about to launch into an apology about the obvious wet spot on Steve jeans but he beats you to it. “Stop worrying.” He’d been watching the spot form as time went on and kept willing it to get bigger. Liked that you were making a mess all over him and yourself too.

“You have to go back to work.” You state, guiltily.

“I have an extra pair of pants in the backseat, sweetheart. We’re all good.” You’re relieved for a number of reasons, climbing off him into the passenger seat. You don’t know what you were expecting but you realized it wasn’t him yanking his pants off, revealing his now cum stained gray boxers. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to drag the boxers off as well, which revealed his huge fucking dick. The tip is now sloppy and slightly red, and you can tell it isn’t as hard as it was.

“Oh fuck.” You say barely recognizing your own voice. Only to repeat yourself when he uses his sullied boxers to wipe the rest of the cum off, watching it twitch from the stimulation.

“He doesn’t like to be stared at, ya know.” Steve teases you, reaching back for his jeans.

Your eyes keep flickering back to his face and back to his dick, and you know there’s no way he’s been carrying that around for the entirety of your friendship and you simply had no idea.

“Steve.” You say dumbfounded. No words available to express your shock, as he pulled his pants on to cover himself.

“No more ‘Stevie’?” He asks, mocking you. The smile on his face tells you he’s just messing with you but you can’t help your cheeks going up in flames.

“You’re the worst.” You huff, but you’re still smiling despite your embarrassment.

“Mhm.” He’s reaching over the console to kiss you again, this time sweet and chaste.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you open for me, before I fuck you, sweetheart.” You gasp feeling his hand on the band of your underwear.

“Lift up for me.” You do, allowing him to pull the drenched fabric off of you, you hide your face in your hands when he lifts it to his face to sniff. You were quickly coming to the realization that your best friend was dirtier than you ever realized, even with all the gossip that got back to you.

You feel yourself manage to flush even further when he murmurs to himself “sweetest fucking girl” he stuffing them in his pocket in the next second, then reaching back over for you when his phone lights up.

Robin’s name lighting up the screen. He huffs a little as he reads the text and you know she’s getting snappy.

“Come on, let's go before Robin kills you.” There’s no use in asking for your underwear back so you just pull your skirt down as far as it will go before stepping out the car, trying to ignore the slickness of your thighs. After Steve walks you to your car, he presses a kiss to your forehead, stating that you’ll talk later.

When he walks back into Family Video he looks disheveled, a completely new pair of pants, his shirt no longer tucked and wrinkled, but Robin is relieved to know that she won’t have to answer anymore stupid questions from him.So she leaves him be for the moment, but he definitely owes her big time.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #smut #fantasylandloserfic

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d1xonss · 7 months ago

Text

Fuck it, I love you

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+) / Angst

✧ Word Count : 7.8k

AN ~ This request was sent in by @daryladdixon, thank you again for the idea! I’m so sorry it took me so long to write, I’ve been having a lot of things going on in my personal life. But it’s finally finished! I really tried my best with this one and I hope you like how it ended up turning out!

(ps- I really want to make some new friends on here, so please dm me if you want to chat! xoxox)

You had been through a lot together. Ever since Atlanta. It was a long time if you really thought about it; years and years of having all kinds of different shit thrown at you. But surprisingly, the two of you made it side by side, the trauma you both endured only bringing you closer together.

Though now as you stood there, screaming and arguing back and forth with each other as a few of your people were in danger, you couldn’t help but wonder how the hell you got here.

When the Commonwealth appeared seemingly out of nowhere with open arms for new people, you couldn’t help but be weary of it. You never trusted them, not really. It was like a dream, something that was too good to be true as they seemed to offer quite a lot, but that only made you more cautious. And the events that followed only proved how right your instincts truly were. So, when the time came, you quickly jumped back on the opportunity to leave and go back to live in Alexandria, knowing that place would always truly be your home. You didn’t even have to think twice on the decision.

However, when you heard that Daryl would be staying behind, wanting to continuously be a part of Judith and RJ’s lives, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. You understood his need to be there for them, you would always understand that. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t miss him greatly when you finally pushed forward to move back with Aaron and Gabriel.

Although something that you didn’t expect, was Daryl’s slight resentment toward you.

When you told him the news about how you’d be leaving the Commonwealth, he was surprisingly taken aback and a little hurt. He even began to raise his voice at one point, not meaning to yell, but to try and show you how devastated he was that you wouldn’t be around. It wasn’t often that the communities visited each other anymore, not like they used to anyway. And that alone told him that he would hardly ever see you anymore.

He hated it, but his reaction to your leave drove a small wedge between the two of you. He was upset that you were leaving him, and you were upset about how he reacted, knowing that he of all people should have understood your reasoning the most. But that was the last time the two of you had spoken, the last time the two of you had even caught a glimpse of the other. And it truly had taken a toll on the both of you. Though you two were far too stubborn to admit it, the truth was you missed each other greatly.

Daryl felt almost empty without having you around. He would spend his free time with the kids, see Carol here and there, along with meeting with some of the other acquaintances he had grown closer to. But he dreaded coming home every day, knowing he would be stepping into an empty and oddly quiet house. It just wasn’t the same without you there. He even caught himself a few times glancing over toward the living room, expecting to see you curled up on the couch with your nose in a book. But there was nothing. Hell, even Dog missed you, tugging on Daryl’s heartstrings a bit as he noticed the canine always looking around the space like he was waiting for you to come home.

And back at Alexandria, you were no better than him. Though you had a lot of things to occupy yourself with, you were going through the same heartbreak he was as the two of you hadn’t been apart for this long in years. A part of you assumed that this would be the new normal. That the two of you now had your separate lives and you would just move on from each other, even though it was far from an easy thing to do. You could now grow as individuals and learn to not depend on one another as it seemed neither or you were ready to have the awkward discussion on how things were left. You could move on.

That is until you received quite the urgent message.

You were in the kitchen of your small home when you heard someone just burst through the front door, causing you to freeze at the sudden noise. “(Y/N)?!” you could hear Aaron’s frantic voice call out.

Immediately you sprung forward towards the front entrance of your home, looking at him with concerned eyes, “What? What’s going on?”

“It’s Lydia and Elijah.” he breathed, “Apparently they didn’t make it to Hilltop. It’s been way too long, they should’ve been there by now.”

Your stomach dropped as you processed the news, “How long have they been gone?”

“They left two days ago.”

That only caused your concern to grow, knowing in the back of your mind that there was no way they could’ve gotten lost or side tracked. Something was wrong, and all you were able to think about was how you would be able to find them. You remembered they took a car, picturing what it looked like in your head as you racked your brain for which route they could’ve taken to the community. The fact was however, you couldn’t track to save your life. Even from the small bits and pieces you had learned in the past, you knew it wouldn’t be enough to find them on your own.

But that’s when it hit you. The small things you had picked up on, you learned from only the best tracker in the world. And in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way to do this without his help.

Soon you found yourself racing towards the Commonwealth without a second thought, telling Aaron to cover for you at the infirmary whilst you were gone. The man asked you multiple times if you were sure, if you really wanted to be a part of this knowing how much they relied on you back at home. But you didn’t have to think twice, you didn’t want Daryl to have to take this responsibility on his own. Though you knew he would do it in a heartbeat for his people, it didn’t matter to you. They were your people too.

You made it into the Commonwealth in record time, the guards on watch allowing you inside the second they recognized who you were, watching your vehicle speed down the road as you left a cloud of dust behind. The area was quite busy today as everyone seemed to be out and about and enjoying the nice weather, feeling a slight shiver run through you as you suddenly remembered why you hated this place. Too many bad memories to even count as living here felt like the longest few weeks of your life.

The car made a screeching sound as you brought it to an abrupt halt, causing quite a few heads to turn upon your graceful entrance as you pulled the keys out of the ignition, stepping out of the car to find him. Though you froze about halfway out of the vehicle as finding him was apparently a lot easier than you thought it would be, seeing him standing off with Carol as the two of you locked eyes immediately. He wanted to say he was happy to see you, happy that you were still alive and healthy, having not seen you in what felt like forever. But the look on your face said it all.

The man didn’t hesitate as he grabbed his crossbow and strapped it across his shoulders, not even bidding Carol a goodbye as he jogged over to you, squeezing past a few people in his way. You instantly tensed a bit, almost as if to prepare yourself for what was to come as you watched him get closer and closer, not even knowing what to say to him. All that time you spent in the car you thought over the different things you wanted to say, the things you wanted him to know. But now as he was coming up to stand in front of you, your mind ran completely blank as you just stood there like an idiot.

He took you in for a moment as he slowed to a stop, trying to read your expression as he could clearly see you wanted to say something. But when all he received was silence, he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, embracing you tightly as he instantly sighed upon feeling your touch again. Your eyes widened at his actions, clearly not expecting that after how things were left between the two of you. But that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him in return, your eyes falling shut as you buried your head into his chest. It was an old habit you had done many times in the past, but you heard Daryl’s breath hitch as he felt your small but familiar action. One that he had never forgotten.

“You okay?” he asked softly into your hair, squeezing you a bit tighter.

You let out a soft breath as you shook your head, “I need you.” you whispered.

After that, he was all ears.

You filled him in on everything as he was the one to take the wheel, driving just as fast as you once were in an attempt to track down the car Lydia had previously taken out. He silently listened the whole time, nodding to show he was still paying attention as he rubbed a hand over his chin, processing your words. The two of you were very clearly trying not to panic, but when it came to the people you both cared about, it was harder to stay calm than you would think.

But then there was just silence. An awkward silence. Neither of you uttering a word after you told him everything he needed to know. You slightly fidgeted with your hands that sat in your lap as you tried not to look at him, your mind only seeming to focus on how weird things were between the two of you now. That, and you kept thinking back to the very last pleasant conversation you had with him right before you stormed out with a slam of the door. A part of you regretted flipping out on him like that, mostly because you knew the reason why he snapped at you in the first place. It was because he didn’t want you to leave, and all you could do in response to that, was to yell right back out of sadness.

But what you weren’t aware of was that he was thinking the exact same thing. Great minds think alike after all. There was no doubt in his mind that he regretted everything he said to you that day, not knowing that it would tear this big of a hole in your relationship. Though he did have a reason as to why he acted so poorly, and that was simply because the man was incredibly in love with you. And it frustrated him that you couldn’t see that, but it frustrated him even more that you left him like it was nothing.

You then cleared your throat to speak much to his surprise, “So…how’ve you been?”

He briefly glanced over at you, shrugging his shoulders with a huff, “Same old, same old.” he brushed off, a beat of silence passing before he bounced the question right back to you. “How’re you?”

“Good…” you nodded, “I’ve been good.”

His eyes glanced back over at you again, taking in your appearance, “Ya seem happy.”

A small smile made its way onto your lips, “I am happy.” you confirmed.

Though it was partially a lie. Sure, you were happy back at Alexandria, living in the familiar home that you had fallen in love with, spending your time at the infirmary helping people. But there was always something missing, and that something was him. You found you were never fully happy when he wasn’t around, no matter how great your life could’ve gotten.

“Ya still changin bed pans?” he asked, a slight teasing tone to his voice.

You rolled your eyes with a small scoff, “Yeah, I guess I am. You still babysitting?”

He chuckled softly with a nod, glancing over at you again as if he couldn’t stop looking at your face, “Guess I am…” he confirmed.

You hummed, “How are the little gremlins anyway?”

“They’re doin alright.” he nodded, “Judith’s made a couple new friends since Gracie moved back, and uh…RJ’s startin to wear that old busted hat now…passin the torch I suppose.” he paused for a moment, “...They ask bout ya a lot.” he added quietly.

You smiled a little at that, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he nodded, “It’s hard for them to shut up bout ya. They’re always sayin shit like…bout the movie nights we used to have. Or how uh…you would do Jude’s makeup every once and a while. Believe me, I haven’t been a good replacement.”

A small laugh escaped you once he said that, not even wanting to imagine Daryl’s makeup skills as he didn’t have much of a steady hand as you did. “Didn’t work out too well?”

He shook his head, “Nah. M’ better at paintin her nails then paintin her whole damn face.”

You hummed as your eyes moved to glance at his hands, noticing the black chipped nail polish that still lingered on his fingers, “I can see she talked you into getting yours done.”

The man followed your line of sight, turning a bit red in embarrassment as he grumbled to himself, “Yeah…it’s hard to say no to her sometimes.”

“She just knows you're a big softie…you’d give a lot to make her happy.” you said with a small smirk.

He scoffed as he briefly glanced over at your face, “Whatever.” he mumbled.

You laughed softly to yourself before it went quiet again, only this time it was a lot more comfortable than before. With some of the tension out of the way, you felt like you could finally breathe properly, seeing as he was the exact same way you left him. It was almost as if no time had passed.

Though you couldn’t help the ping of sadness you felt as you thought over what he had told you, the kids missing your presence would never fail to break your heart. His words only brought the memories flooding back, thinking about how you once would nearly spend every waking moment together, like an actual family, and you loved every second of it. You now only wished everything hadn’t gotten so messed up, not knowing if things would be the same since your absence. If you were given the chance to redo that moment in time, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Daryl then glanced back over at you, seeing your mind wandering, his face forming into a bit of sympathy as he could only assume what you were thinking. He was never good with words, but a part of him wanted to reassure you somehow.

“I missed ya.” he mumbled quietly.

Your heart leapt a little in your chest as you heard his quiet words, looking back over at him to find that his gaze was already on you. You smiled sadly, reaching over to give his arm a squeeze. “I missed you too.”

He smiled back at you, fighting back a shiver as you reached out to place a gentle hand on his arm. It was a moment the both of you needed. And perhaps you weren’t the only one who needed the reassurance, seeing as he was visibly relaxing after your reciprocated words.

But it couldn’t last forever, no matter how much you wanted it to. The two of you sitting up a little straighter upon seeing the familiar car veered off to the side of the road, the front tires planted on the grass as if they had somehow crashed, yet there was no damage from what you could see.

Daryl immediately pulled off to the side, the car slowing to a stop before the two of you got out with your weapons in your grasp, approaching the vehicle with caution to peer through the slightly darkened windows. Though upon glancing inside, there was nothing. No bags, no weapons, nothing. Confusion with a mix of dread seemed to pool in your stomach as it was hard to tell how they disappeared, though you prayed you were wrong about what you originally assumed.

“Aye.” Daryl’s voice called out.

You glanced up at him from over the hood of the car, seeing him gesturing down to the ground in front of him for you to come and see. From your perspective, all you saw were a bunch of messed up and sloppy footprints that could’ve been there for days if you had to guess. But Daryl saw something much bigger. Though he didn’t want to scare you, he silently knew that there were a few strangers involved with their sudden disappearance, knowing he had to be careful on your next move.

“Our best bets that way.” he muttered as he nodded toward the treeline, not even waiting for you to respond before he started moving in that direction.

You tried to keep up with his long strides as he moved quickly through the woods, his eyes staying to the ground as he tried to pinpoint every direction they turned. It was honestly amazing to you how he could do this without hesitating or second guessing himself, he just knew where he was going as if he was following some kind of string that led straight to them. But in a way he was as you began to notice a pattern in the leaves and dirt.

Although you couldn’t help but notice that the closer the two of you got, the more rigid and tense he became as he stopped speaking to you entirely. He didn’t make a single sound as he walked, only occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were still following right behind him. The feeling in your stomach began to worsen as you quickly picked up on how much his body language seemed to change, as if he were screaming at you without saying a single word. You knew there was something he knew and you didn’t, but you couldn’t bring yourself to understand why he wasn’t telling you. You were in this together after all.

However, your silent thoughts were suddenly brought to a halt as you were too busy looking down at the ground to realize that Daryl had stopped, instantly running into his back with a small oof. But he hardly seemed to notice as his sole focus was on the small cabin in the distance that seemed to be completely abandoned. Though both of you knew better than to believe that.

“You stay right here.” Daryl’s voice commanded softly, removing his crossbow from his shoulders as he loaded a bolt into it.

Your eyes slightly widened at his suggestion, “I’m sorry?” you spoke in disbelief.

“Ya heard me, I said stay here.” he replied a little more harshly, “We dunno what’s waitin for us in there, alright? I’ll get em out.”

“I’m not just going to stand here while you throw yourself into the lion’s den, fuck that.” you replied with a scoff as you pulled out a weapon of your own.

He grumbled in slight annoyance, “Dammit (Y/N), ya ain’t comin with.”

“Like hell I’m not.” you quietly snapped, “We came out here together to find them, and now we’re going in there together to get them out.”

The man then got up into your face, as if trying to intimidate you enough so you’d stay behind like he asked, “M’ not messin around girl, I ain’t takin no for an answer.”

“Yeah, neither am I, jackass. You’re not going in there by yourself, that’s just stupid.”

His face contorted into obvious frustration and anger as he was clearly losing his patience, “Why the hell do ya have to be so goddamn stubborn all the time, huh? Why can’t you just listen for once?”

You huffed to yourself at the irony, “Well, I guess you can say I learned from the best.”

“Shut the hell up.” he snarled.

“I wanna know why,” you retorted, “Why won’t you let me go in there with you and back you up on this? You really think I can’t handle myself?”

He growled, “I never fuckin said that.”

“Then why?” you snapped, equally losing your patience just as much as he was. At this rate, whoever was in that cabin could probably hear the two of you arguing with one another with how loud your voices seemed to rise.

“Because.” he huffed.

“Why?!”

“Because I love ya too damn much ta lose ya in there! I just want ya safe!”

In an instant, the world went silent. The two of you were breathing a bit heavier from all the yelling, looking at each other with equally wide eyes. You were shocked that he said something so vulnerable, while he on the other hand was terrified that now he might’ve ruined what he had with you. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to come to terms with his feelings, but admitting them out loud felt like an entirely different ballpark. The man now just stood frozen, trying to anticipate your reaction as if he was expecting something negative.

But you surprised him.

“And I love you too damn much to let you do this by yourself.” you said, your voice now unexpectedly soft, “We’ve had each other’s backs for years…and this isn’t any different.”

Daryl stared at you with slightly wide eyes after you said that, not only because you refused to listen to him again, but because you said you loved him too. You loved him. He never in his wildest dreams ever thought it would be physically possible for you to love someone like him, but here you were, pouring your heart out just as he was. Neither of you had been very good about expressing how you felt for one another; there was never really a need for words as you both silently already knew. But now as everything was laid out on display, it was a new kind of uncomfortable that you both just wanted to crawl away from.

Though in the midst of all the tension, Daryl finally allowed you to come with him towards the cabin with a nod of his head, both of you preparing yourself for the sight you would see. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as you were expecting.

Both Lydia and Elijah were tied up on opposite ends of the small house, all of their supplies and weapons completely missing as they were left with nothing. Both of you were quick to untie them, taking them by the arms as they began to tell you that they were held at gunpoint by a few bandits, demanding that they give up all their things to them. And to make sure they wouldn’t follow, the bandits had apparently tied and locked them up inside for God only knows how long. You felt awful as you saw the minor injuries on them from the experience, but mostly you were just thankful that they were alive.

You spent the car ride back to Alexandria in the backseat of the vehicle, comforting Lydia as she leaned against you, telling you bit by bit of what she could remember. It was surely traumatizing for the both of them, and you wanted her to know that you were there to listen to whatever she needed to get off her chest. Even Elijah chimed in a one point once he was comfortable enough, needing to talk about the scary experience just as much as she did. But as for you and Daryl, neither of you uttered a word, not forgetting about the small moment you had just seconds before you found them.

The sun was beginning to set by the time the four of you made it back to the community, many people waiting in anticipation at the gates. But they were soon all filled with great relief as soon as they saw the two young adults step out of the car, receiving hugs and reassuring words the moment they realized you had brought them back safely. Though you were quick to usher the two of them back towards the infirmary when you got the chance, wanting to make sure the minor cuts and bruises would heal properly as you offered to clean them up before they went home for some much needed rest.

Occasionally you glanced out the window to see Daryl and Aaron still talking near the front gate, part of you wondering if he would just go home. Leave without uttering a word about the argument that happened between the two of you. Daryl tended to run from these kinds of things, you knew that better than anyone, but you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you wouldn’t be a little heartbroken if he did this time. You didn’t want him to go, not knowing the next time you would even see him. But another part of you didn’t even know what to say if he did decide to see you one last time.

Eventually once you were finished up you cleaned up the station you used, wishing Lydia and Elijah goodnight as you hugged both of them tightly. All was quiet in Alexandria as there were only a few stragglers left outside, the sun now finally nowhere to be found as you slowly made your way home. Though without even realizing, you subtly kept an eye out for Daryl. He could’ve asked to spend the night in one of the spare homes since it had gotten late, assuming he would want to leave in the morning. But then again maybe he just wanted to get out of here, go home to his own bed with Dog who was surely missing him by now.

But he didn’t even say goodbye.

Your chest felt a bit heavier at the thought, mindlessly walking into your darkened house as your mind continued to spiral at the events of today. Although you stopped completely in your tracks when you noticed the light illuminating your living room, swearing you hadn't forgotten to turn it off just earlier today. Hesitantly, you peered around the corner to see none other than Daryl sitting on the couch, seemingly lost in his own little world as he stared down at his hands. Though he sensed your presence almost immediately, his head snapping up as he quickly stood to his feet, feeling a bit awkward now realizing that he had just come into your house without your permission.

He then cleared his throat, “I uh…I didn’t wanna leave without sayin goodbye.”

You didn’t know why, but something seemed to snap inside you once he said that. Knowing that he was just going to run right back to the Commonwealth without a second thought. “Really? You’re going to rush back there tonight? Just like that?”

He gave you a look, “Don’t…don’t do that.”

You scoffed with a shake of your head, “Don’t do what? I’m just calling it like it is. I don’t see you for months, and this is how you want to leave things between us? With some pathetic goodbye, not knowing the next time we’ll see each other again?”

“Hey, you got no right sayin that shit to me.” he said with a slight raise of his voice, “Yer the one who left, remember? Not me.”

You laughed bitterly, “You can’t blame me for that. I was miserable there, and I know you were too! And yet you’re still living there day after day-”

“M’ stayin there because of those kids!” he cut you off, “You know damn well how important they are to me, so yeah, I’ll be miserable if it means I can still be there for em. I ain’t gonna just leave em there.”

“I’m not asking you to leave them Daryl! I know how important they are to you, you practically raised them. But that doesn’t mean you get to just shut me out of your life completely. You give me this whole sob story in the car about how much they miss me, and you miss me, but if I recall, I haven’t seen you put in an effort to visit me once!”

“Oh you gotta lot of damn nerve sayin that to me.” he spoke with an edge to his tone, both of you getting more worked up with each comment you spat at each other. “You only came back because you needed my help, like m’ yer fuckin errand boy or some shit!”

You let out a sound of disbelief as you point towards him, “Don’t you dare go there! You’re no better than I am, and you know it. You would’ve never stepped foot back here unless there was some kind of emergency.” you spat, “You never made an effort, not even once! And after everything you said to me…”

A certain fire ignited behind his eyes once you said that, “How the hell else you expect me to react when yer tellin me yer leavin, huh?! What am I supposed to do with that?!”

“Be supportive!” you yelled, “Be happy that I’m finally going back to doing what I love! That’s what you do!”

“Why’re we fighting again?!” he suddenly questioned in frustration.

“I don’t know!”

It had been nothing but back and forth between you two since the moment you saw each other, battling with your own overpowering feelings. It was weird to think about how you never used to be like this, you never so much as argued playfully in the past, and yet now here you are at each other's throats. The silence had never been so loud in the small dimly lit house, waiting for someone to make some kind of move.

But then suddenly, Daryl seemed to make up his mind as he stepped forward. He didn’t want things to end with you like this, the last thing he wanted was to see you upset. And the urge to just finally allow his feelings to unleash was getting more and more overwhelming, needing you to know how he really felt.

He approached you in record speed, not even giving you any time to react before he gently cupped your face, capturing your lips with his. Your eyes widened at how fast everything seemed to happen, quickly pushing his shoulders to get him off of you. He instantly backed away when he sensed your discomfort, now looking like a deer in headlights as he came to the realization that he made a huge mistake.

“I…m’ sorry, I didn’t-”

“No,” you cut him off, “I don’t want you to kiss me, just to make all of this magically go away. I want you to kiss me, because…because it actually means something to you.” you breathed.

His eyes softened as it clicked in his mind what you were trying to say. You didn’t push him away because you didn’t want it to happen; you pushed him away because you were scared it was completely meaningless to him. But that wasn’t true. It wasn’t true at all.

Daryl slowly stepped closer to you again, hesitating slightly before pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead, “It means everythin…” he whispered against your skin.

That was a fantastic answer.

The moment you heard his confirmation, you leaned up to kiss him passionately, your arms looping around his neck as you pulled him into you. He took a moment to recover from your movements, but soon he found he was kissing you back with just as much eagerness, gripping your hips tightly. His mind went hazy as he was on cloud nine, almost not believing this was really happening. He had pictured this moment in his mind a hundred times before, but truly nothing could have prepared him for the utter bliss he was about to experience.

The two of you quickly grew more desperate for each other as the gentle kiss turned into something much greater, your tongues now fighting for dominance as you let out soft sounds of approval and desperation. Without even thinking, the two of you inched closer toward your bedroom on the main level, already clawing desperately at the fabric of your clothes.

Your knees eventually hit the back of the bed, causing you to stumble a little as you fell back onto the mattress, pulling him on top of you as you didn’t want your lips to part for even a second. Daryl could already feel the fire building in his stomach, the strong urge spreading throughout his body as he began to crave you. His hands moved everywhere he could reach, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body, every dip and curve was some kind of uncharted territory.

You then felt him pull back slightly to break the heated kiss, needing to taste more of you as he left hot, open mouthed kisses across your jawline, making his way down at an incredibly slow pace. A whimper was pulled from your lips as his teeth grazed your skin, gently nipping at your flesh to leave a trail of love bites to your exposed neck. The stubble on his face that scratched against your skin somehow made it even better, tickling you slightly as it sent a shiver up your spine.

Daryl smirked to himself as he felt your muscles twitch, moving his mouth to drag his tongue along your chest, before he lowered his head even more to slightly lift your shirt, kissing along your stomach. Your hands grasped the hem of your shirt as soon as he pulled it up, easily tugging it up and over your head to toss it carelessly somewhere on the floor. He groaned as his eyes scanned over your new exposed skin, feeling you sit up slightly to unhook the back of your bra, before shrugging it off just as fast.

His lips parted, his eyes hazy and filled with lust as his hands came up to brush across the sides of your breasts, “God, you drive me crazy…” he muttered under his breath.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, leaning in to kiss him again as his hand moved to gently massage your breasts, squeezing them with the perfect amount of pressure. You gasped softly as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, easily getting a rise out of you as your back slightly arched in response. He could feel your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him, your impatience growing as you could feel your arousal pooling against the fabric of your underwear. Your hands then moved up to blindly undo the buttons on his shirt, your nimble fingers struggling a bit as you tried to keep up with his sloppy kiss.

He then grunted at your attempts, breaking away from you momentarily to rip his shirt off his chest. Quite literally. Your eyes widened as the buttons flew everywhere, the navy blue top now looking more like a piece of a fabric sample than an actual shirt.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly as your hands reached out to feel his toned chest, “Hm…I wish you had another shirt just so I could watch you do that again.”

He smirked, “Don’t worry...I got plenty of other ways to put on a show for ya.” he spoke before he gave you a wink, his hands reaching down to tug on your jeans.

Your excitement grew as you sat up on your elbows, watching as he swiftly undid the button and the zipper of your pants before pulling them clean off your legs in one swift motion. He seemed to be very efficient, that's for damn sure. Though a wicked grin crossed the man’s face when he saw the small wet patch on your thong, his thumb teasingly running over your clothed core. You sucked in a soft breath as he gently pushed on your clit, your head rolling back and your toes curling at the shockwave sensation.

“This all for me? Hm?” he practically purred, his southern drawl bringing goosebumps to your skin as his thumb continued to tease you.

Your hands gripped the sheets beside you as you nodded your head with a small “mhm”, silently begging him to keep going.

He seemed quite pleased as his lip quirked up in a smile, “Mm that’s my girl.” he muttered softly as he placed a few lingering kisses on your stomach, his words causing you to spiral. You never thought he would say that to you, hell you never even thought you wanted him to say that to you. But now that he had, you never wanted him to stop.

His mouth then hovered over the elastic of your underwear, his teeth moving down to bite at it before he tugged the piece of fabric off of you using only his mouth. Well if you weren’t turned on before, you sure as hell were now.

Daryl then couldn’t wait any longer as the sight of you bare beneath him was beginning to be too much, his movements frantic as his belt jingled when he began to unbuckle it. Your eyes watched his every move as he tugged his pants and boxers off in record speed, kicking them off of his ankles to see he was already throbbing for you. The sight was enough to make you whine quietly, squirming in anticipation as his large frame hovered over you.

But although he was practically drooling to finally please you the way you deserved, he still couldn’t help but tease you a bit. And maybe, just maybe, he enjoyed torturing himself a bit as well. He dragged his tip through your soaking wet folds, the friction being enough for your hips to rock up in a sudden jolt. The sounds coming out of you were utterly sinful, and he loved it. Your hands again gripped the sheets below you, fidgeting relentlessly as he continued to tease your entrance, occasionally circling your clit which caused you to moan.

“Ah!” you cried softly as he barely pushed inside you, before pulling himself out just as quickly, “Please...” you whispered breathlessly.

He groaned lowly as he saw you practically falling apart for him already, leaning down to place a few kisses along your cheek, “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“You.” you said instantly, “I want you…”

He smirked to himself, “I want you too sweetheart.” he kissed along your neck as he muttered those few words into your skin, “So much…”

The excruciating wait was finally gone in what seemed like a split second, not being able to hold back any longer as Daryl finally pushed himself into you. Your mouth dropped as your head fell back onto the bed, hearing him let out an exaggerated groan as he felt your tight walls already clenching around him.

“God…you feel like heaven sweet girl.” he mumbled as he fought to catch his breath, his mind swirling with ecstasy as he was completely drunk off of you. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, how you felt so perfect as if you were made for him.

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, squeezing your legs around his waist, “Keep going...” you practically begged, physically needing him to move.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He slowly began to pound into you at a steady pace, watching your facial expressions to try and find what felt the best for you. You moaned sensually as his hips began to slap against yours, feeling the length of him moving in and out at a steady pace. Your hands then moved to trace up his bare arms, feeling his muscles flex underneath your featherlight touch as they landed on his shoulders, needing to feel more of him.

His breaths grew heavier as they came out in short pants, gradually speeding up, completely enamored with how your breasts bounced with each thrust he gave. Your hands began gripping his shoulders a bit tighter as your eyes squeezed shut, whimpering as you could already feel your orgasm begin to pool in your belly. How he was able to do that with little to no actions at all, you had no idea. But you didn’t care. It was like all the longing the two of you had felt for each other was just spilling out all at one time as you finally gave into your desires.

“Faster.” you panted, “Please.”

Your words spurred him on as he instantly began to pound harsher into you, the bed frame squeaking against the wall as his movements were quick and sharp. The pornographic sounds easily slipped from your lips as you felt him rock even deeper inside of you, causing your nails to scratch and grip against his skin. He groaned deeply as he felt your hands digging into him, only urging him on more as he rolled his hips whilst thrusting into you, a sharp gasp escaping you as he tickled that sweet spot so perfectly.

He liked that sound. He liked it a lot; rolling his hips against yours again and again in order to pull more of those beautiful sounds out of you.

You cried out blissfully as you felt yourself clench against him, the familiar tingling sensation vibrating through you as your legs squeezed around his waist to keep him locked in place. He felt a bead of sweat pool down his face as he groaned, leaning down to gently nip at your collarbone, hearing your moans of pleasure right next to his ear. He could tell you were getting close, feeling himself following right along with you, but a part of him wanted to be at your mercy. A part of him wanted to see you riding out your high on top of him, needing to snap a mental image of the most perfect thing he could ever lay his eyes on.

You were taken off guard as he suddenly slowed his movements, flipping you over so you were straddling his hips as he laid flat on his back. Your dazed and confused look made him want to chuckle, but he didn't. Instead, he spoke.

“Use me however you want…” he panted as he continued to gently thrust himself into you, “I’m yours, baby…completely yours.” he said softly, wanting you to be in control of him.

Though you didn't expect the sudden change of events, his words surprised you, and it turned you on. More than you were ever willing to admit.

After the initial shock wore off within merely seconds, you didn’t hesitate as you began to bounce on top of him, the new angle making your legs shake wildly. His big hands held your hips perfectly in pace as he matched your rhythm, silently thankful that you lived alone as the volume in the room was growing louder with each passing second. You watched as he threw his head back with a soft whine, keeping his eyes on you the whole time as you slowly started to find your release.

“That’s it sweetheart…that’s it.” he spoke soothingly as he leaned up to place wet kisses across your stomach, his thumb finding its way to toy with your clit to send you over the edge.

You cried out loudly as that was all you needed to come undone, your muscles twitching as you rode it out as long as you possibly could. Feeling you clench around him mixed with the lustful sounds that came out of you was all Daryl could take before he reached his own climax, swiftly pulling out of you as he groaned lowly against your skin.

You didn’t know how much time passed as the two of you were in a complete state of bliss, trying to come down from the incredible high you just experienced. You felt his hands trace soothing circles against your hips as his face was now buried in your breasts, feeling the heat of his breath dancing against your bare skin. A content sigh left your lips as you found yourself wondering why it had taken you two so long to do this. But then again you assumed it was never the right time, and in your opinion it was worth the wait. You couldn’t think of anything more perfect than this.

Daryl then began to come to his senses as his heart finally slowed down to a steady pace, his lips beginning to trail up towards your collarbone lovingly. Your fingers ran through his messy, tangled hair, growing a bit sad as you looked down at him, reality coming back to remind you that this couldn’t last forever. But a selfish part of you wanted it to.

“Don’t go.” you whispered.

He looked up from what he was doing, seeing the slightly distraught look on your face that instantly made his lips morph into a frown, “What’re you talkin bout?”

You shook your head, “Stay…stay here with me. Don’t go.”

His eyes softened as he raised his hands to gently cup your face, “Hey, I ain’t goin anywhere sweetheart. M’ stayin right here.”

“But…what about Judith? RJ? I can’t…I don’t want to make you choose.” you said softly, fearing that in the back of your mind, things would just go back to how they were. Regardless of the passion you shared.

He smiled softly, “Baby, you ain’t makin me choose. We’ll figure somethin else out together, alright? Because I do know one thing…I sure as hell don’t want us to be apart like that ever again.”

You slowly nodded your head in agreement, “I don’t want that either…you have no idea how much I missed you. Leaving you was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

“It ain’t gonna happen again. I promise.” he said before leaning in to gently kiss your lips.

You didn’t know how, but his words mixed with the gentle kiss seemed to slowly melt your worries away as you couldn’t think about anything else but him. In the end you knew it would work itself out, feeling more content in this moment with him than you had felt in a very long time. Daryl made a mistake on letting you leave, his own frustration stopping him from preventing you from walking out that door, telling you how much you meant to him. Though he couldn’t change the past, and all those long months you missed out on with each other, he sure as hell could plan for the future.

And he was never planning on letting you go again.

~ Thanks for reading!

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solarmorrigan · 3 months ago

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Deck the Halls - Spooky Scary Remix

For the @steddie-spooktober day 7 prompt: Skeleton Rated: G | Words: 682 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, modern AU, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a menace Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Those are skeletons.”

“They sure are.”

With an air of satisfaction, Eddie deposits the two life-size, plastic skeletons onto the couch, where they preside over the boxes of decorations sitting on the living room floor like a bony king and queen (or two kings. Or two queens. Steve guesses he can’t say for sure, since they’re skeletons).

“Eddie, it’s December,” Steve says.

“You know, your observational skills are one of the things I really love about you,” Eddie shoots back.

“Fuck off,” Steve snaps, with no real heat. “We’re supposed to be decorating for Christmas.”

“And so we shall!” Eddie claps his hands together. “Where should we start?”

“Let’s start with why there are skeletons on the couch,” Steve says, and Eddie tsks, like Steve is the one being weird.

“We’re going to decorate with them, obviously.”

“Skeletons are for Halloween, not Christmas.”

Eddie eyes Steve with that shrewd tilt to his mouth that never bodes well for Steve’s chances in an argument. “Says who?”

“Uh, everyone?”

“Oh, everyone. Is that all?” Eddie waves his hand dismissively. “You know, skeletons don’t stop existing just because it’s not October. In fact, I’ve got news for you, baby.” He steps closer to Steve, bringing his hands up to Steve’s hips and giving them a squeeze before leaning in to whisper, “there’s a skeleton inside of you right now.”

Steve scrunches his nose up in distaste. “Don’t say it like that,” he implores, and Eddie snickers.

“Too late, thought’s in your head now.” He leans in and pecks a kiss to Steve’s cheek before stepping away. “Besides, I have a plan to deal with the Christmas skeleton nay-sayers such as yourself!”

He goes to dig through the plastic shopping bags he’d come home from the store with, where Steve had only sent him to get another box of lights and some extra hooks for the gutters, not these new spooky-scary interlopers, who are still sitting on the couch, eyeing Steve with their empty sockets.

“Where did you even get these things, anyway?” Steve asks as Eddie digs.

“They were on sale, can you believe it?” Eddie says. “No one wanted the poor, bony bastards, so I brought ‘em home. Aha!”

From the depths of the rustling plastic Eddie unearths his treasure: two fur-trimmed Santa hats.

With what seems to Steve like a disproportionate amount of delight, Eddie sets about placing the hats onto the two bare, plastic skulls, tugging them around carefully and setting the pompoms at jaunty angles before he steps aside and gestures with a theatrical sweep of his arms.

“What d’you think?”

Steve blinks at two festive skeletons on the couch. What does he think?

He thinks that they only moved into this house a few months ago, and he doesn’t want anyone in the neighborhood to think they’re weird.

Which– okay, they are weird. Obviously. Everyone is going to find out. But Steve had been hoping that the idea could sort of bake in; that they’d have time to settle and become a part of the community before everyone figures it out, so they’d have a better chance of not getting frozen out. He’d had a plan.

But then again– Eddie is standing there grinning at Steve, so hopeful and pleased with himself, practically begging Steve to tag along with him on his weird little endeavor, and honestly? Steve would rather live as a socially ostracized hermit until the end of his days than make Eddie unhappy.

“I think you’d better find a good place outside to put them, and they’d better stay there, because if I wake up one morning and find out you moved one of those things outside our bedroom window, or somewhere inside the house, I’m divorcing you,” Steve says.

If anything, Eddie’s smile only grows. “I wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” he says, his tone implying that he absolutely would.

All the same, Steve allows himself to be smothered with grateful kisses, and braces himself to deal with “mysteriously” moving Christmas skeletons for the rest of the season.

The things he does for love.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie-spooktober #they are in love!#but Eddie remains a menace #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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urlovebot · 1 year ago

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❀⋆.ೃ࿔ Garden Kisses

bff to gf!bada lee

cw: friends to lovers. a bit of angst in the beginning. cunnilingus. jealous bada. bada is bad at communicating feelings. some texts thrown in there. possessive bada. pussy drunk bada.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"how do i look?’

“fine.”

“just fine?”

“what do you want me to say?”

you turn from facing the mirror to look at your best friend. bada was laid out on your mattress, hands behind her head while she observed you.

“i want you to be enthusiastic- i haven’t been out with a girl in so long. i need to look good enough to eat. and i mean that. i want her to-”

“okay. thats enough- you look great.”

bada grabs her phone from your nightstand and starts scrolling.

you stare at her in hopes she’ll meet your eyes but she never does. you walk up to the bed and grab her ankes. bada whips her head up in surprise.

“what the fuck are you doing?”

you roll your eyes, “you’re in a pissy mood. why?”

she just stares at you wordlessly. you frown at her actions, letting go of her ankles.

bada mumbles something under her breath as you walk out the door.

you glare at her, “what was that?”

she glares back, “i said i hope you have fun.”

your eyes water a bit. this wasn’t normal behavior coming from her. she used to be so supportive when you went out with people, making sure you were safe, texting you during your dates to see if you were havinga good time. lately she’d been so… passive. and you just couldn’t figure out why.

you slam the door shut behind you.

bada sort of feels bad, really. she just couldn’t help but be pissed off that you didn’t recognize what was right in front of you. she wanted you. desperately. and a part of her hoped your date didn’t go well.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you open the door to your shared apartment, locking it behind you. you throw your purse on the couch and make way to the kitchen. you yell out for your roommate but get no response other than a quick, “hmm?”. you go ahead and start ranting about your date.

“she was so, so fine bada. really. but when i asked her if she wanted to get out of there, she looked at me like i was fucking crazy. like she wasn’t rubbing her hand up and down my thigh. those are horny actions, no innocence about it. so then i asked her what’s wrong and she has the nerve to tell me that i was being too forward. can you believe that? maybe i need to come across less brave. what do you think?”

you turn around and bada is standing in the entryway of the kitchen, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. you didn’t hear her come down the stairs at all so you jump a little at the sight of her,

“what the fuck- are we sneaking up on people now?”

she says nothing, opting to just roll her eyes. you continue,

“i don’t know. i’ve just been on so many failed dates. i want to joke around and say i’m too funny for these bitches to handle but gods honest truth…” you trail off as bada starts to walk toward you. your heart starts beating faster than it previously was, but you continue anyway,

“gods honest truth, i’m starting to think it’s me,” you look down the floor, picking at your hands, “and i dont know what to do about that. i just feel like nobody wants me. i dont know what i could possibly do differently. i think…” your words trail off. under your hands you could see bada’s shoes nearly touching your own. you could feel the heat radiating off of her body. when did she get this close?

“i think i-” bada’s hand goes under your jaw, tilting your head up to meet her own. she looked down at you, her eyes hooded. she leans down until her nose is touching yours,

“stop thinking.”

your brain malfunctions and you start spitting out words-

“well- i mean- i just think that-”

bada grins at you, her other hand going to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“m-maybe…” your eyes meet hers, “maybe i should stop thinking. or talking. one of the two. or maybe both-”

bada interrupts you by pressing her lips against yours. at first, you don’t reciprocate and bada panics, but then your lips begin to move along with her own. you wrap your hand around the nape of her neck and pull. bada takes this as her green light. she walks you two back into the counter. once she feels you bump against it, both hands grip your waist and she sits you on the counter.

she pulls away from you, hands rubbing up and down your sides. she leaves teasing kissed in between her words,

“been wanting to do this for so long.”

her lips meet yours again, sloppier than the last. her hands glide down your waist and stop at the curve of your ass, pulling your hips towards hers. you let out an involuntary moan, bada whines into your mouth shortly after,

“i’m so glad its me making you make those pretty little noises.” she leaves short kisses down your neck, “been hearing you give them away to other people. should’ve been me the whole fucking time.”

her lips reach the base of your neck, and she begins sucking marks along your collarbones. your hands grip at her hair, arching your body into her own. her hands move back up to your waist, toying at the hem of your shirt. she pauses her ministrations on your neck,

“can i?”

“please.”

she pulls your shirt over your head and gives you a soft kiss on the lips once your top half is bare. she gives you a look over, and when her eyes meet yours once again, just above a whisper, “you’re so pretty.”

she kisses down your chest and stops once she reaches your breasts. she just stares for a moment and you giggle,

“when i asked you ass or titties and you responded titties, you really meant it didnt y-” you cut yourself off with a loud moan. bada wrapped her mouth around your nipple and swirled her tongue around the bud. once she’s satisfied, she pulls away and blows cold air on it to watch it perk back up. she repeats this on your other breast as well. your back arches into her mouth for the second time tonight (and definitely not the last-) your hands grip at her hair a little tighter and she lets out a delicious, long winded whine.

“fuck- i should’ve done this so much sooner. fuck you for letting anyone other than me touch you like this. feel you like this.”

her kisses begin to trail down to your lower stomach,

“i should’ve never let you leave this goddamn apartment for those dates. i should’ve kept you home, made you feel good, kept you sated. all those nights i heard you moaning out other people’s names, wishing it was my own.”

bada gets to her knees, looping her fingers around your skirt and pulling it down. she kisses your clit over the fabric of your underwear,

“you’re so wet i can see it through your panties. who’s making you feel this good now baby?”

your stomach twists delightfully, “you.’

bada licks a strip up your clothed pussy,

“you can do better than that.”

you huff, “you, bada.”

she peels your underwear from your cunt, mouth hovering over where you need it most.

“again.”

“you- fuck,” bada presses a soft kiss to your now unclothed clit. you continue,

“you make me feel this good, bada. only you.”

bada looks up at you, eyes hooded and a lopsided grin on her face,

“good girl.”

her mouth covers your clit again, sucking and swirling her tongue around the bundle of nerves. your head shakes at the amount of stimulation you recieved so quickly. you’re moaning out, hands gripping bada’s hair tight, making her groan onto your pussy, feeling the vibrations from her mouth. she pulls away,

“you taste so fucking good. how dare you give this pussy away to someone else?”

she spits on it and licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit and pulling away with a pop. her eyes pierce through your own as she looks up to you,

“never again.”

you nod and repeat her words, “never again.”

her thumb comes up to rub slow circles around your clit and her tongue darts in and out of your opening. you’ve had previous partners eat you out before, but bada was enthusiastic about it. she was moaning into your cunt like it was a delicacy only meant for her. her eyes squeezed shut everytime your hand grips her hair and you pushed her further against your pussy. your legs began to squeeze around her head and you swear to god you see her eyes roll to the back of her head. if nothing else, bada is a giver. you stop gripping her hair in favor of pushing her away from your cunt by her forehead. bada’s eyes flash up to yours and she is a sight to see.

her pupils are blown wide, she’s flushed from her cheeks down to her neck. her mouth is glistening in your wetness. she licks her lips,

“what is it baby?” she purrs.

you mumble but she can’t understand what you’re saying. your head is so jumbled with pleasure that you can barely form coherent sentences, but bada makes out a couple words.

per your blabbering request, she inserts two fingers into your pussy. your legs tense up and your hands fly to her hair again. she presses wet kisses along the inside of your thighs as she lets you get used to the feeling of her fingers inside you. once you’ve stopped clenching around her fingers and your legs relax, bada begins to pump them in and out of you in a slow pace.

“does it feel good?”

you nod, eyebrows creasing, “more. please.”

bada giggles, “always so polite.”

she curls her fingers inside of you, moving them at a quicker pace. you use the hands in her hair to push her face back into your cunt. she makes eye contact as she flicks her tongue back and forth against your sensitive, nearly overstimulated bundle of nerves.

this almost does it for you, your legs start to shake over bada’s shoulders, your bach arches, and you feel the beginnings of a knot forming in your stomach.

bada frees up her mouth, “are you gonna cum, pretty girl?”

you whimper out a quick yes and try to push her back to where she originally is but she tsks,

“say please.”

you nearly glare at her, but you were so close. you couldn’t argue at this point.

“please.”

bada ducks her head back down to your pussy but before she continues her assault on your cunt, she gives you the go ahead,

“that’s it. cum in my mouth. make a mess on me, please baby.”

her wish is granted as your toes curl and the knot in your stomach unravels. you feel nothing less than euphoric and bada is feeling just about the same. she’s groaining out as you clench around her fingers bullying the inside of your cunt. her mouth glued to your clit as she guides you through your orgasm. your legs are wrapped so tightly around her head that her ears ring, but she couldn’t be happier. she feels you relax before she hears you relax.

your legs stop shaking, you’re not clenching around her fingers as tightly, and the grip on her hair has loosened. however, you were still whimpering out as she pulled her fingers from inside of you. she stands back up and places her hand on the base of your neck. she makes you watch as she puts her fingers in her mouth, swirling her tongue around them. once she’s finished, she pulls them out and uses her thumb to open your mouth. she lets the mix of her spit and your wetness drip from her mouth into your own,

“swallow it.”

you do as your told.

“let me see.”

your mouth opens for her and her previously tense facial expression morph into something softer. admiration. she grins at you,

“i want you.”

you grin right back at her,

“i’m yours.”

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada lee smut #bada x reader #lee bada #lee bada x reader #swf 2 x reader #swf 2 #smut

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silksongeveryday · 9 months ago

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Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 400!!!

Well then.

Thanks to everyone for all the love and support, genuinely one of the biggest reasons I still continue doing this daily. You all are amazing :)

And thank you for 2.3k!!!

…I don’t really know what else to say at this point lol???? I’ve been doing this so long these milestones are starting to become less and less exciting. /lh

I’ll be honest I was really banking on Silksong being released in 2023 I genuinely wasn’t expecting to make it more than 250 days tbh. But hey, I guess I was joining the delusional crowd with that one lol. I just really hope Silksong releases this year or at least we get a confirmed release date at all???? All this waiting is starting to feel like kingdom hearts 3 all over again

Well anyway, here’s my 100 day checkup I guess:

Burnout has been wavering in and out I think. I’m not putting in effort like I used to during the day 150-250 period of this blog but hey the fact that I’m still dedicating a brain cell to this at all is impressive to me. Generally speaking I’m not a person who likes to commit themselves to something for more than a year unless I absolutely have to. I could literally take a break from this blog whenever I want but it’s been such a consistent part of my daily routine that I just haven’t lol.

I’ve been debating back and forth with myself on whether or not I want to have a couple people helping out with the blog. On one hand it would be really nice to have a helping hand so I could take more consistent breaks but on the other hand I’ve never been good at communication especially because organizing something like that is wayyyy out of my comfort zone. I run my blog a very specific way and I’m often bad at explaining my process to others without something getting misunderstood.

So I’m thinking up a few other ideas as well. Don’t feel like going into specifics because I’m not certain on them at all but if I feel like one works I’ll talk about it more in the future here or on my main blog.

Life has been really busy lately but after a long time I think I might finally have time to dedicate a full day to drawing multiple doodles so I can mass schedule and take a longer break I think. No promises on that but here’s to hoping.

Oh yeah also today’s specific drawing is inspired by Day 174. Also considered a redraw I guess??

That’s all I can think to say right now, so I guess that’s everything, thanks for reading! Here’s to more doodles! :)

#hollow knight #silksong #hk hornet #hollow knight hornet #silksong hornet #hk ghost #the knight #silksongeveryday #hk hollow #ssed asks #hk hollow knight #the hollow knight #hk the hollow knight #hollow knight ghost #hollow knight fanart #hk fanart #ssed

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cum-aside · 12 days ago

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Ok it’s not like I go here really, but I’ve been reading a bunch of DPxDC recently because it’s very good, and I had an idea that won’t go anywhere

The various gangs in Gotham have callsigns/uniforms or something right??? If not, they should, and imma say they do. Anyway. Redhood I think didn’t think too hard about what people in his gang on his turf should wear for identification purposes, but they sure did. And what they came up with was Red.

Wearing red in the vicinity of the ‘Bad Part’ of Gotham?? Part of the red hood gang. Generally head gear is the preferred method of wearing red. Red hats and beanies, red head scarfs and hijabs, red headbands, red masks. The idea has been communicated. To a certain point, wearing red even if you aren’t officially part of the gang is a great way to get an in with them, or be under protection if you’re the right age in the right area, as long as you’re willing to risk getting roped into low stakes gang activity, which can range from working the counter at money laundering sites to community service (guarding clinics and shelters and volunteering) to making deliveries to destroying certain hostile architecture. (Hood saves the real jobs with cops and shootings and turf disputes for actual members, that he knows the names faces and skills of, and who are at least above 18, but preferably over 20, and who wear real gear he supplies them with, not just whatever’s in their closet that’s red) (this does not entirely stop the smaller ‘members’ from getting into their own fights with the cops and turf wars, but Jason has found that giving them Something to do that feels like direct action helps curb those tendencies. And it’s not like those things aren’t things that don’t need doing, so it’s a win win. Mostly)

Danny, bless him, does not know any of this. But has been staying in the sketchier areas of Gotham because that’s where people don’t care how old you are or if your papers are real or not, and he absolutely does not want people looking into how old he is and wether his papers are real or not. He is also wearing an inadvisable and vaguely conspicuous amount of red. His converse are red, his signature baseball tee is white and red, and his hoodie is also red.

Clearly, this kid (he’s like 17) really wants in with the hood gang.

And eventually, they oblige him.

Random people will approach Danny and ask/tell him that them and a couple others are going somewhere to do (insert vaguely/definitely illegal job or act of community service here) and Danny, who is deeply directionless in life currently, and also pretty assured in his ability to eat danger for breakfast, and has never met an institutional authority he doesn’t disrespect at least a little bit, is totally down for some civil disobedience and chaotic good shenanigans.

And then it spirals from there. Like. A worrying amount.

It takes Danny actual months, almost a year, to realize that he’s been low key slow cooked into the criminal underbelly of Gotham, and like… he’s not really mad about it?? Honestly if he had a choice when he came to Gotham, he probably would have picked the redhood gang anyway. He just seems to vibe with them on a… Spiritual Level…

Anyway

Years go by, and while Danny doesn’t have the most going for him in terms of a normal person life, vis a vis higher education, official employment, health insurance, dating life, or any other benchmark one uses to measure the trajectory of their lives— Danny’s feeling pretty good! Jazz, Tucker, and Sam have all finagled their ways into Gotham, (Tucker has a WE internship, Jazz is working/doing work studies at Arkham, Sam does what she likes now that she is a legal adult and has her inheritance, and what she likes is environmental activism, and occasionally being spotted with fellow activist Damian Wayne, and someone who may or may not be poison ivy, sources differ) and Danny finds his obsession suspiciously well served as a hood goon. Hood hench? Redgoon? Hench hood?? Name pending, who cares.

Danny is also suspiciously good at, well, his job. One of the best runners, even when he gets caught and frisked they never seem to find the goods on him (they never do check IN him, but then why would they) very well liked at every volunteer spot they have, patient, kind, funny, good with old people, kids, bitter people, addicts and the homeless, the sick and injured. And yet also very competent in the field, when they finally let him do actually dangerous things. Act as protection detail to the working girls in the red light district, he’s very respectful, and very good at intimidation, de-escalation, and when push comes to shove, excellent in a fight. Knows when to keep pressing his advantage and when to make a retreat with whoever he’s guarding. Not afraid to fight scrappy, and presses through pain and fear like a true gothmite.

He gets so good at his not really a job job that he becomes essentially, Redhoods right hand man.

The rest of the bats are skeptical of this for several reasons. Because generally speaking, the people in Jason’s turf are not fans of the bats, but Jason does a lot of coordinating with them, and someone so close to him is going to pick that up eventually if they’re half as sharp and useful as Danny is. Other than that, secret identity issues, plus pit rage, plus the fact that Jason trusts pretty much nobody. But Jason has great feelings about this guy, he always feels more clear headed and even keeled when he’s around, and he helps Jason remember the community he’s trying to build, and the community he serves. Also he delegates and mother hens like nobody’s business, but Jason just really can’t seem to work up too much irritation about it.

It is around this time, however, that the past, and shady government organizations come knocking.

Perhaps the GIW has also noticed how ecto-contaminated and lawless Gotham is and decided that they could start doing research and experiments with its live and undead denizens instead of amity, where the portal has closed, and ghost activity is down since phantom disappeared. Or maybe the GIW has finally located phantom specifically and is interested in what they’re always interested in. Or maybe it’s various ghosts harassing Danny to take up the throne, which he’s been avoiding successfully, but having settled into a life routine that suites him his core has finally ‘settled’ (halfa cores fluctuate more than other cores due to the transient nature of being alive, but halfa people settle into lifelong patterns and relationships quicker than other people because of the static nature of being dead) he is mature enough by ghost standards to assume the throne, or at least begin preparing for it.

Regardless, danny is being tracked down for his childhood baggage’s extended warranty, and brings the entirety of the JL and almost all associated sidekicks, hero group spin-offs, and organizations into the thick of it.

Idk. I just got through Secretary Danny by DeathlySilent13 on ao3 and I thought man oh man wouldn’t it be neat if Danny got to be Jason’s second in command instead??? That could open up a lot of avenues I haven’t seen yet. I’m also just very curious about how the Jason’s runs his gang according to the fandom, and I think that with all the ACAB energy Danny has been assigned, he should have a little bit of community focused organized crime. As a treat. Like I said I don’t go here thou, I just needed to put this somewhere and see if it vibed with anybody besides me

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp au #danny phantom #red hood #liminal Jason Todd

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izvmimi · 9 months ago

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cw: selfship-coded. sappy. first kiss. isekai elements referenced if you pay attention. aged-up characters to early 20s. reader is part of the corps however not from time period nor country. love triangle.

Tanjiro is exactly where you expect him to be when you find yourself unable to turn in for the night, slipping your feet into tabi slippers, and finding the courtyard where he trains.

You’re no longer at the Ubuyashiki Estate these days but at the Butterfly Mansion, a welcome reprise from the rest of the Hashira with the subset of your comrades you’re most comfortable with - your best friends, in the same predicament as you, slumber in their own respective bedrooms. You can imagine that one has slipped into the room with Genya at some point in the night, and the other is probably asleep, her own gentleman (gentle really only with her and perhaps his pet beetle) caller having sent word that he’d be visiting in the morning. The Butterfly Mansion is truly a beautiful, restful place compared to the bustle of the estate but your heart has been aflutter ever since you came here.

You hate to admit it, but Kanao gets under your skin.

For a moment, as from afar you watch Tanjiro practice his strike for what may very well be the thousandth time that night, you stand transfixed, wondering if it is worth it to break his concentration to tell him what’s been on your mind. After all, perhaps all this for him it’s something silly and inconsequential, something you’ve only built up in your mind. The draw to him may not be something real even, and even if it were, you are not destined to stay in this land or even this time period.

Whether or not you like him doesn’t matter. Whether or not you love him is moot. You can’t stay. Knowing how he feels about the situation will not serve to clear the muddy waters, plus you have never been one to draw unnecessary love triangles, anyway.

Before you can let your own misgivings overtake you and turn tail, Tanjiro spots you from afar.

He calls your name loudly, one last strike before his sword is sheathed, and set by the trunk of the nearest cherry blossom tree. He’s fast, and before you know it, he’s by you, grinning widely as he does when he’s excited, despite the exhaustion evident in the very marrow of his bones, communicated by the sheen of sweat overlying tense, overworked muscles.

“You’re up,” he says, and you try to come up with the best way to organize your thoughts. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, carefully. He’s moving back to where he’s left his sword, but this time he’s taken your hand gently, pulling you along as one does a small child. He has the tendency to do this, reach out to you without considering it first, still unable to understand the effect his touch has on you. He hasn’t picked up on the fact that you let only him and your closest friends touch you casually, and you wonder how he would take it if he realized.

Has he realized yet how special he is to you?

Your mouth opens then closes as he unsheathes his sword again, and puts himself back in stance, throwing a glance at you to make sure you’re out of striking distance.

“Is it okay if I keep going? I assume you want to talk, but I’m not done. I can still listen, though.”

You nod then look around. Part of you is surprised Kanao isn’t out here, watching him with loving steady eyes, a mind that is as unreadable as her feelings are obvious. You can’t tell if she sees you as a threat or not, or if she sees you at all. But she’s nice. And you are nice.

That’s all you are to each other and this arrangement is what you wish it could remain.

Regardless, Aoi’s words have unsettled you.

I know how you feel and I’ve felt that way, but Kanao needs him.

Just thinking about how she practically accosted you, while well-meaning, terribly abrasive, you can feel your teeth clench.

You haven’t done anything wrong except be yourself. You don’t know how to control the fact that he gravitates towards you. You haven’t tried to seduce him; you understand the roles of girl code, that she was there first, that she loved him first, that she was by his side when he was comatose, when he was fighting, when he was becoming what he is now, and you have no right and yet-

“Talk to me.”

Tanjiro pauses, and he’s looking at you again, eyes washing over you in the moonlight as though they’re looking for any pain he can assuage. It hurts how he can care about you so deeply, like the most attentive of lovers, when all you’re fated for is a short-lived friendship. You have to remind yourself constantly that he does this for everyone, he loves everyone this tenderly, and thus let your heart stop racing, but there’s not much you can do when all you can think of is the way your lips met just days ago.

It wasn’t a kiss. Kisses are for people who love each other. Kisses are for him and Kanao. He is not for you, nothing is for you, everything is for Kanao.

“Kanao is in love with you,” you blurt out, and immediately regret it.

You can see his body tense, and then he breathes out slowly. You watch him move, and you can feel the night chill suddenly intensify, your arms wrapping around yourself for warmth but for comfort. Your body is trembling. Why did you say that? Everyone knows. It’s not a secret that they’ve been fated for each other for the past several years, long before you tumbled into this world that doesn’t in any way belong to you.

“I know.”

Heat rushes through your body. It’s the worst answer he could have possibly given you, polite and patronizing at once. He’s watching you carefully now, eyes matching your gaze, his hands running through his hair.

“I’m glad you know,” you finally convince yourself to say, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. Heartstrings taut to snapping, you try desperately to come up with a way to change the subject. You don’t care to hear about how easily he returns her feelings or any other part of their love story, whatever you’re not privy to.

“We’re supposed to head out in a couple of days, maybe you shouldn’t tire yourself out like this.” you offer. You turn your head from him, your hand on the tree trunk before you, pretending that the ridges of the bark are of particular interest to you now, although it’s mainly to catch a few errant tears threatening to escape your lash line. “When do you sleep?”

“__.”

He calls your name again, softer this time. Your heart sinks into your stomach. You can’t discuss this anymore.

“The soup Kanzaki-san made today was quite delicious, don’t you think? I have to ask for the recipe.”

There is a pause that is far too loud, and you’re now frozen stiff, holding back tears. You know he will not let you move on, but the idea of rejection in the middle of the night is just too much for you to bear.

Lovesick. Truly lovesick you are at this venture in time, and the fantasy has to last just a little bit longer. It’s all you have going for you in this awful situation, the dream that even if you’re trapped here slaying monsters for an indeterminate length of time, away from family and the technology you took for granted, perhaps he can smile and warm you like the sun.

“I think Inosuke may have said my name right today, Tanjiro, isn’t that so funny?!”

You laugh, but it’s coming out disingenuous, a sound not unlike a barking sick cough.

“___,” he says again, his voice even softer now, pleading with you to manage your own font of emotions.

It’s too much.

You turn quickly and whisper something about being tired and needing to leave, and the moment you walk past him, he grips your wrist again, stopping you in your tracks.

Your heart thumps.

“I don’t love her.”

Your head shakes automatically even if it’s what you wanted so desperately to hear. “I think you should,” you say in the smallest of whispers.

Your hand pulls but Tanjiro doesn’t let go, instead stepping around to face you. Your head is turned downwards but gently, he takes your chin and raises it up to his face. You look away, but you’re biting your lip and the tears are starting to well up again. Your heart is racing out of control.

This isn’t what you want, but it is. You must still be dreaming, never having left the security of your bed.

“Why are you crying?”

Concern dripping in his voice, he’s thumbing away tears that you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“I…” you trail off. There’s no excuse, really.

“What do you want me to tell you, __?” Tanjiro asks. It’s a harsh question but it’s said with firm kindness; the gentle glow in his crimson eyes are patient still.

That you love me as much as I do you, you think, then dispel. Preposterous.

“I’m not sure,” you lie. He frowns, the immediately detected deceit disappointing him. He lets go of your chin, then takes both of your hands in his. Your stomach turns as he raises them to his lips.

“Kanao is important to me-” he starts. You wince and pull away, but he holds on tighter, “but you too are important. Very much so.”

“She loves you-” you start, and he quickly rebuts, “I love you.”

And this stuns you to silence.

“You…”

“Yes, you.”

A sharp inhale as your body recovers from sobs racks your body. Tanjiro pulls your knuckles to his lips and kisses, and you find your breathing erratic again.

“Tanjiro,” you start, and he pulls your face closer.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time,” he says, and the adoration in his eyes makes it so clearly true, sparkling in the moonlight. Your mind’s eye spins memories like films, every time he’s been too close, every time he’s been too careful, every time he’s wanted to be with you above everyone else.

“Are you sure?” you ask. It’s the lamest of things that you can ask but you have to hear it from him, the man who loves everything and everyone, that would choose anything before himself.

“As sure as my blade.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that dizzies you before you can find his last statement cheesy. When the haze clears, you think of Aoi again, you see Kanao in your mind’s eye watching Tanjiro, butterflies in her hair.

“What about Kanao? She needs you.”

“I need you.”

He kisses you again, and this time you’ve lost all your reservations, perhaps too easily, your arms reaching around his neck to deepen the kiss. You’ve never needed to tell him you loved him because it was written all over your face. It’s a part you’ve hated about yourself, that no matter how badly you’ve tried to limit your emotions, all comes spilling out through your words and actions. He might have known before you even did, your penchant for devotion spilling into every word you spoke to him, smiles you couldn’t quite temper.

Your friends saw it, Aoi saw it, Kanao saw it, the heavens above must have seen it.

Most importantly, he saw it.

The tears remain free-flowing, now cathartic. You breathe in his love as he continues to kiss you, your lips, your neck craned, your back now supported by the tree that knows your poorly-kept secret.

“Tanjiro, I love you,” you admit finally, your noses just inches apart, breathless.

“I know,” he whispers. He smiles and kisses your neck. “And I’m so glad.”

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #kamado tanjiro x reader #demon slayer x reader #daydreams: kny #mimi's notes #tanjimimi

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 months ago

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Squeeze Once, Squeeze Twice

Part one of the Uncaged series

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re selectively mute, but things have gotten a lot worse since hell

Warnings: LOTS of mental trauma, mentions of torture (non graphic), lots of angst, little fluff

A/N: I took some creative liberties with this one, I’ve had this idea in the back of my head forever where the little sister fell into the cage with Sam so I wanted to put it here. Also this is set in season 6 (very loosely following the plot)

A/N 2: ok so this story took on a whole life of its own, it’s gonna jump around a bit but I think I did it in a coherent way, I hope you guys like this one because I really liked the concept 💜

You’d never been very talkative, even as a little kid. You could go days without ever uttering a word, and you never spoke to someone unless you were comfortable around them—which basically meant you’d only talked to Sam and Dean. However, you used to make exceptions—John, Bobby, Ellen, Joe, and a handful of others.

You didn’t do that anymore.

In fact, you hadn’t even talked to your brothers since hell.

Dean had been hovering over you since Death got you out, worried about how silent you’d been. He’d gotten used to how little you talked, but now it felt like you might never speak again.

He wished Death could’ve done for you what he had for Sam—put your memories of the cage behind a wall—but he’d said it was different; Sam’s body had been separate from his soul, so the memories had a disconnect, but you’d been in hell the whole time.

“Hey kiddo,” Dean spoke softly, but you flinched anyway. “We’re at Bobby’s.” He eased the Impala to a stop and turned around to look at you. “You, um…” Dean swallowed. “You remember Bobby, right?”

Dean had no idea how this hell thing worked—Sam didn’t remember, and you didn’t speak—but if it was anything like his time in hell, you must’ve felt like you were in there for over 100 years.

You just stared at Dean, and not for the first time he wondered if you even remembered English. What if Lucifer and Michael spoke so much Enochian over the past hundred years that you didn’t even remember how to speak? Was he doomed to be unable to communicate with you at all?

He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice you reaching over the seat and grabbing hold of his wallet.

“Bobby.” Your voice got his attention. He whipped his head around to see you holding up a group photo he kept in his wallet. You were pointing at Bobby. “Bobby,” you repeated, the ghost of a smile twitching at the edge of your lips.

“Yeah.” Dean grinned. “Yeah, that’s Bobby.”

“Let’s get going,” Sam cut in, stepping out of the Impala. You got out quickly, trailing right behind Sam. Things had been strange between you and Sam; awkward. You had obviously formed some kind of severe trauma bond with Sam during your time in hell, but Sam didn’t remember anything that happened in the cage, so he didn’t understand the bond.

“You ok?” Sam asked you as he led the way towards Bobby’s porch. In answer, you reached your hand forward and grabbed his, squeezing it twice.

He didn’t even notice, too intent on waiting to hear you speak.

“Are you ok?” He asked again, softer, as if pleading with you to answer. You squeezed his hand twice again, and this time he noticed. “Is that supposed to mean something?” He asked, but the front door opening distracted him, so he didn’t see the way your face fell.

“Hey boys,” Bobby greeted as he stepped out onto his porch. “Hey kiddo.” His eyes landed on you, and a big grin broke out on his face. “It’s been a long time.”

Dean was the first to notice the discomfort in your subtle movements when the silence grew out awkwardly.

You felt as though everyone was waiting for you to speak, or at least to hug Bobby, but you hadn’t left Sam’s side.

Dean didn’t understand that, though—he could just tell you were uncomfortable. “You remember him, don’t you?” He asked.

“Hey,” Sam spoke softly, and you turned to look at him. He’d noticed the way your hand gripped his tightly, and the way you were leaning towards him and glancing at him. “I’ll go over there with you, if you wanna say hi. I’m right here with you.”

Your hand squeezed his twice, and Sam took that as an invitation to lead you up onto Bobby’s porch.

“Hey Bobby,” he said, releasing your hand for a moment to greet Bobby with a hug.

“It’s good to see you in one piece.” Bobby patted Sam on the back before both men pulled away. You looked up at Sam, and his tiny nod was all the reassurance you needed. You all but jumped into Bobby’s arms, and he chuckled and held you close. “Hey there. I’ve missed you around here.” Bobby pulled away, turning his attention to the boys. “We’ve got some work to do.”

…

Dean couldn’t get you to leave Sam’s side.

“Kid, we need all the help we can get with this,” Dean coaxed. “Sam’s gonna wake up, but…but we can’t wait any longer. We’re out of time. Cas and Crowley are on the move now, we’ve gotta go.”

It was like you couldn’t even hear him. You kept Sam’s hand gripped tightly in yours and you wouldn’t take your eyes off him.

“Kid—“

You looked around suddenly, as if making sure no one else was in the room.

“He remembers.” Dean stopped speaking when he heard your words. “When he wakes up, he’ll remember hell. I can’t leave him alone.”

“I get it, ok,” Dean said. “I know you guys went through all that torture together. But right now I need you, kid. Me and Bobby, we need you.“

You were quiet for a long moment, looking from Sam to Dean.

“Is Cas bad now?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I…” Dean’s voice cracked. “I don’t know, kid.”

“I wouldn’t wish those memories of hell on anyone,” you whimpered. “And Cas, he…he made Sammy remember everything.”

“Hey.” Dean put a hand on your shoulder, trying to ignore the way you flinched before you relaxed. “We’re gonna fix this. We’re gonna get Cas back, and he’s gonna fix Sam.”

You didn’t speak again. Instead, you stood from your spot by Sam and took the gun Dean was holding out for you, leading the way out the door.

…

It was all going wrong, and you couldn’t even get to Sam. He’d shown up halfway through the fight, but Cas was blocking your way to him and Dean wouldn’t let go of your arm.

Sam was swaying on his feet, an exhaustion you recognized all too well. But there was a confusion in his eyes too, like he couldn’t quite put together the hundred plus years of memories that were bombarding him.

You wanted nothing more than to go to him, and Dean’s hand holding you back was killing you.

It was also bringing back memories of things you would rather forget…

Lucifer was torturing Sam again. You couldn’t force yourself to look this time—you didn’t want to know. You were tired of seeing it. And you were scared; you were always so scared.

But you did try to go to him. Over and over, every time Sam screamed in pain, you tried to go to him, but every time Lucifer used his grace to slam you back against the metal bars of the cage. It used to hurt—sometimes he would slam you so hard that something would break—but you were so used to pain that you could barely feel the little things anymore.

You were whimpering as you tried futilely to fight off the grace. You wanted to call out to Sam, but you couldn’t get your mouth to form around the words—you’d been too scared to speak for what felt like decades.

“You’re done!” Lucifer announced cheerily, wiping blood off his hands and turning away from Sam, who was curled in on himself in the corner of the cage. You couldn’t tell where the blood and beaten skin ended and the protruding bone began.

You tried again to go to your hurting big brother, but Lucifer slammed you back down again.

“I said he was done; now it’s your turn, little thing.”

“Not doing so well, are you Sam?” Castiel’s condescending voice as he turned to Sam brought you back to the moment.

“I’m fine,” Sam lied, swallowing hard and glancing at Dean. “I’m fine.” He didn’t direct it at you—the two of you had made a pact decades ago in the cage that you would never lie to each other. Not that Dean believed Sam, anyway.

“You said you would fix him, you promised!” Dean thundered, and you flinched.

“IF—“ Castiel cut in. “You stood down, which you hardly did.” Dean and Cas were having a stare-off, Dean unable to believe Cas’s betrayal. But you couldn’t take your eyes off Sam.

“Be thankful for my mercy,” Cas directed at Sam. “I could’ve cast you back in the pit.” His eyes on you finally pulled your attention from Sam, and the coldness you saw there had you shivering, suddenly thankful for Dean’s hand on your arm—a reminder that he was there. “Both of you,” Cas added.

“Cas, c’mon, this is nuts!” Dean was saying, but you couldn’t listen anymore. The fear in Sam’s eyes at Cas’s words had you more desperate than ever, and with Dean distracted you had a chance.

You broke free of Dean’s hold and made a run for Sam. You passed directly in front of Cas, and you saw his eyes flash in anger and surprise, raising a hand—whether to hit you or smite your or blast you away, you had no idea—but he held it there, waiting to see what foolish move you were making.

You reached Sam unscathed and grabbed hold of his arm, your fingers seeking out his hand. Once his giant hand was around yours, you squeezed his hand twice.

Some of the confusion in Sam’s eyes faded, and his eyes met yours with a horror that you’d gotten used to seeing.

…

Your hand squeezing Sam’s seemed to knock around some of his jumbled memories in the right order, and suddenly he was able to grab onto a single memory.

Lucifer was torturing you. After months—or years, Sam couldn’t tell anymore—of being too petrified to speak, you had finally gotten up the courage to have a whispered conversation with Sam while Lucifer was yelling at Michael about something.

The worst part was, Sam couldn’t remember what the two of you had said—all he knew is that eventually Lucifer picked up on the quiet conversation, and he had decided that “the trash was making too much noise.”

He had grabbed you by the neck—you were already a whimpering mess by the time he reached you, because you were well acquainted with the fact that Lucifer’s attention on you meant pain—and Sam had tried to stop him, tried to convince Lucifer that it was Sam’s fault, not yours, that his conversation had been interrupted.

Lucifer didn’t listen—he never did. He’d selected his victim, and he never changed his mind.

When Lucifer finally finished with you, he’d thrown you against the wall by Sam. Sam crawled over to you, careful not to make any noise.

He couldn’t ask if you were ok; he knew the answer anyway. The two of you were too scared to make any noise at all. So instead, Sam reached out his hand and wrapped it around yours, squeezing once—not too hard. The two of you needed gentle touches. Your tearful eyes met his, and he felt it; two squeezes—your response to him.

It didn’t really have one meaning; it wasn’t an “I’m fine” or “you’re ok” or even an “I’m here for you” or “things will get better.” The two of you knew you weren’t fine, you knew it would never get better in the cage, and you knew you had no choice but to be there together. But it was grounding; it was reassuring, it was whatever you needed it to be. It was “I know it hurts,” it was “I love you,” it was “I feel your pain,” it was “I’m sorry,” it was “no matter what, we go through this pain together.”

And that became your new language.

Sam blinked, bringing himself back to the moment. Your hand was still in his, and you were staring up at him, completely ignoring Castiel’s icy gaze as you waited for Sam to gather his thoughts. He looked down at your little hand gripped in his.

And he squeezed it back gently.

“You’re brave for someone too scared to speak,” Castiel cut in.

Sam’s eyes flashed to Cas. He seemed to debate within himself before speaking. “Leave her alone!”

You recognized the fear in his eyes—standing up for each other had turned out painful in the past; but Cas wasn’t like Lucifer. You hoped.

“I hope for your sake,” Cas began, turning his attention back to Dean, seeming to ignore Sam’s words. “That you never see me again.”

And he was gone.

“Hey.” Dean was by Sam’s side in an instant. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” Sam lied again. “So um…what now?”

…

The four of you went back to Bobby’s to “regroup,” as if there was anything you could do to stop Cas.

“You two need to get some sleep,” Dean directed to you and Sam. “You guys look like crap.”

You met Sam’s eye, and he looked just as wary as you.

“What?” Dean demanded. “You guys look like you’re having a psychic conversation. I know something wrong, I’m not blind.”

“Nothing,” Sam mumbled. “It’s nothing.” He couldn’t tell Dean. He couldn’t talk about it. Neither of you were able to think about sleep without thinking about the countless times that you’d been woken up by unspeakable torture over the last hundred years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you fell asleep that wasn’t just you collapsing from exhaustion despite your fight to stay awake, and it always ended the same way; vulnerability was met with punishment.

“Alright then.” Dean looked annoyed, but he dropped it. “Well, I’m hittin the hey. Goodnight.”

Once Dean was gone, Sam and you just looked at each other.

“We’re safe now,” Sam began slowly. “I��I guess we should try—“

“I don’t wanna be alone,” you whimpered, coming closer to Sam.

“Hey, hey.” Sam grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze, but you didn’t squeeze back yet. “I’m not gonna leave you alone. We can share Bobby’s guest room, ok?”

You just looked up at Sam, opening your mouth, then closing it.

“I know you don’t think you can sleep,” Sam said, reading your eyes. “I…I don’t think I can either. But we gotta try to…to go back to normal.”

“I don’t…” you swallowed. “I can’t—“

“I know,” Sam sighed. “I don’t think I know what normal is anymore either. But let’s figure it out together, ok?”

You nodded firmly and looked down at your hand in Sam’s.

And squeezed it twice.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

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cloudcrabtaur · 2 months ago

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ISATOBER Day 31 - I promise

Isatober round up thoughts below!

🎃 Happy Halloween! 👻

It’s arrived - the final day of Inktober 2024! And I have a couple of things to say to close out so let’s go!

First off, and most importantly, a huge thank you to @darlnyan who created the Isatober prompts I’ve been following this year - they’ve been great all the way through - I don’t think I would’ve had half as much fun with any other set of prompts! Go check them out and follow them if you haven’t yet!

A second huge thank you, though it kinda goes without saying, to the creator of Isat @insertdisc5 ! Who made a game so amazing that I’ve spent an entire month making fanart for it every single day - and my enthusiasm still hasn’t wavered in the slightest! Isat has inspired me more than anything has in a WHILE - both to create fanart and to work on my own original projects. Also! it did kinda revive my tumblr from the dead! Funny how that happens!

Third! I wanted to congratulate everyone else who participated in Isatober this year, because I’ve been checking this tag every day and you are all INSANE! Genuinely incredible! Pat yourselves on the back because you deserve it! Seeing the different ways everyone has interpreted these prompts has been the best part of the whole challenge for me, and I’m really looking forward to seeing what everyone puts out next!

And finally thank you to everyone who has left notes on any of my Isatober drawings this month. I genuinely never expected this many people would enjoy my silly fanart and I’ve got so much encouragement from the community! You’re all amazing 💖

And with that!

I think it’s time to give Sif a rest (for a little while anyway). I am hoping to spruce up a few of my unfinished Isatober pieces as well as finish some unseen WIPs next - so keep an eye out for those!

Enjoy the rest of the season everyone, and look foreword to Inktober 2025!

#isatober #isatober2024 #in stars and time #isat #inktober #inktober 2024 #isat fanart #isat siffrin #artists on tumblr #isat loop #isat odile #isat bonnie #isat isabeau #isat mirabelle

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fangweaver2099 · 6 months ago

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𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 1

MINORS DNI 18+ FIC

You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.

Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.

You’re still a virgin.

You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”

College was for new experiences after all.

CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)

PART 2

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”

You squint at the request - you can see his icon is his torso.

You knew you had to snoop - be careful. The classic teen girl not wanting to be abducted shit. His skin was tanned - pale palms and even skintone told you he wasn’t a white guy. NYC was a melting pot - so you weren’t about to think too hard about it. You scroll through his writings. Most were boring and formal. You debate reading over the ‘contract template’ he had posted but decide against it.

His pictures are, mostly, not entirely him. A few torso shots showing off dark hair and abs - or more casual showing off a normal looking body of a dude who clearly worked out. The others are a few different women in different states of undress smothered in bondage ropes, always a bright red. The one that intrigues you the most again has the face censored by a black bar, but she’s hung upside down against the wall, diamonds of rope on her thighs as she’s suspended before red rope that was weaved into a massive spider web. He was a fan of spiders - the user name made sense.

The photos were old, from 2016 at the newest. The photos of him were new - posted just 6 months ago.

His wall was what told a touch of his story. You scroll down dozens of posts, women and men acting friendly or asking to meet up again. You wonder if he used to be a community person, the anon nature of his account was new? Could you check on the wayback machine?

You tab back into his chat.

“hey. are you really 6’9? ” - Fawnteeth - 10:19 PM

10:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You think I’d lie about that?”

“maybe. I know a lot of guys who lie about their height, I’m tall enough to tell.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

10:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Smart to ask. Yes, I am really 6’9”. Is height a big seller for you?”

“when you’re a tall woman, it is.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

10:21 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You want me to make you feel small. Noted.”

“what had you messaging me? you seem popular.” - Fawnteeth - 10:21 PM

10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’ve been in the scene for a long time, made my way around. Your interests line up and you seem at least somewhat concerned about your own anonymity.”

“here I thought you’d say you found me pretty.” - Fawnteeth - 10:22 PM

10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Shallow compliments hardly get us anywhere. Besides, that’s a given.”

“well, thank you anyway. need to keep this and my personal life separate, like you I see.” - Fawnteeth - 10:23 PM

10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ “We all have our secrets and reasons to keep them.”

“serial killer sorta secrets?” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

“I’m kidding.” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you believe me if I said no?”

“I can try. it’s not like you’re a blank profile, web.” - Fawnteeth - 10:25 PM

10:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Maybe you shouldn’t. Things like that are easy to fake. You’re clearly trying to keep a secret, which means if I met up with you no one would know where you went. Would be a good tactic if I was preying on little girls.”

You stare at his message for a moment, forcing in a quick breath you sit up as your bed creaks. Okay, time to take things a bit more seriously.

“Good thing I’m not a little girl. I do appreciate the concern, it’s attractive.” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

10:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Lot’s of untrustworthy people on sites like this. Ones that will lull you into a sense of security.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware. You think I should be afraid of you?” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

10:28 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes. You can’t trust me right away.”

“Well, I like the honesty. I don’t think I have any plans to meet up with anyone soon - not even you.” - Fawnteeth - 10:30 PM

10:30 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Of course you don’t. You’re new at this.”

“Did I really give it away that quickly?” - Fawnteeth - 10:31 PM

10:31 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes.”

You stare at the screen for a long moment, eyes wide. How the hell do you reply to that? Is he ending the conversation? Did you already fuck things up? At this point, most men would be falling over themselves to impress you, not making you feel intimidated . You feel your core throb as you click back to his profile, scrolling over dozens of comments on his wall from years ago - the fact is, his profile spans back years. Longer. He’s experienced, and… he isn’t wrong, either.

“Is that a problem? I hope it isn’t. You’re the first dude who hasn’t asked me for nudes yet.” - Fawnteeth - 10:32 PM

10:34 PM - WebRigger2099 - “No. You should be more careful though, me explaining that and this is something you should be suspicious of. Wanting to ‘protect’ you because you’re young and need to be taught the ropes, so to speak.”

“Got it, Sir.” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

“Wait, can I call you that?” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

You cringe, placing the laptop on the bed for a moment. Shit - you’ve already messed up.

10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 - “That’s acceptable. If you ever call me ‘Daddy’ however I will block you.”

10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 - “That’s not a joke.”

You open your eyes, glancing over at the chat and his two messages. Raising a brow, you lean in, shifting the laptop back into your lap.

“Understood. Not my thing.” - Fawnteeth - 10:35 PM

10:36 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What is your thing, Fawn?”

“Well… I like giving up control… Feeling like prey. I’ve always loved deer, something about being so fiercely defenseless as a fawn in a wolf’s maw is thrilling.” - Fawnteeth - 10:37 PM

10:37 PM - WebRigger2099 - “No wonder you brushed over the red flags.”

“Maybe.The whole giving up control is why most submissives are here, aren’t they?” - Fawnteeth - 10:38 PM

10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 - “The illusion of giving up control. Any good dominant knows the submissive is the one with the power. Safe words, limits, contracts - it all relies on knowing they can end things whenever they want to explore it safely.”

“Of course.” - Fawnteeth - 10:40 PM

10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Of course? So you have those things ready for me?”

“ Safe words and how I prefer them - yes. Limits, I think so. Contract - no. ” - Fawnteeth - 10:40 PM

10:42PM - WebRigger2099 - “I need one for slow down/ease up and one for an immediate stop. I also need a physical sign if you are unable to say your safe words. Please list them.”

10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Send me 4 lists: Favorites, Yes, Maybe, and No not ever. Include everything you can think of. If you do not include something that I am interested in I will ask about it and we will consider it a maybe until you’ve had time to consider it and possibly research.”

10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You will not need a premade contract. I have a basic format we can edit to our needs. If it goes that far.”

“Is the green, yellow, red method good with you?” - Fawnteeth - 10:44 PM

10:44 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes.”

“That’s good.” - Fawnteeth - 10:44 PM

“...And I'll get you the other things - do you have any hard nos I should know of?” - Fawnteeth - 10:44 PM

10:45 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Send me yours and we’ll go from there.”

“Okay.” - Fawnteeth - 10:45 PM

You take your time in a Google document, carefully considering your late-night Archive Of Our Own feed. Anxiety tells you to rush, but you get the energy that Web isn’t the kind of guy who wants you to rush.

“ Will you click links? Google Docs. ” - Fawnteeth - 10:55 PM

10:55 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ I applaud you if you somehow hack me from a google docs link. I have a very good firewall as a warning. ”

You couldn’t help but grin at his reply - you’re charmed by him. Oh no.

“I’d figure as much. Here.” - Fawnteeth - 10:57 PM

“ [Google Docs Link] “ - Fawnteeth - 10:57 PM

10:57 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I’ll ask specifics soon but I want to be clear about this - I want something in person, but that is not on the table until the end of the summer. I have obligations. If that is a problem I don’t want to waste your time.”

“That’s fine. I know we’re both in NYC. I’m kinda glad as I don’t think I’m ready to meet up soon anyway.” - Fawnteeth - 10:57 PM

10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Gives us time to get to know each other and learn expectations.

“Then it sounds like we’re on the same page.” - Fawnteeth - 10:58 PM

10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good. Due to this being a distance-based arrangement for the time being I cannot touch you myself; Have you heard of a lovense?”

“I have. Aren’t those expensive?” - Fawnteeth - 10:58 PM

10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Money isn’t a concern for me, and anything I get you is a gift. The only expectation is to use whatever I provide. Acceptable?”

“Yes. I don’t take pictures or videos with my face in them.” - Fawnteeth - 10:58 PM

10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I noticed.”

10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Neither do I. That isn’t a problem.”

“Glad to hear that.” - Fawnteeth - 10:59 PM

“...So…” - Fawnteeth - 10:59 PM

10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Your list says nothing about exhibitionism. If I were to tell you to wear your lovense during the day would that be acceptable?”

For a moment you stare at his message. Now that you’re not under your father’s roof, you have free reign to do whatever, and it’s honestly not like your roommates haven’t done weirder, less appropriate shit in far more public spaces.

“That’s fine as long as I’m not visiting family. I live somewhere else.” - Fawnteeth - 10:59 PM

10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You say you like roleplay. Are there specific scenarios you’re interested in?”

“Do you know what dead by daylight is?” - Fawnteeth - 10:59 PM

11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I can’t say I do.”

“...Well. I wasn’t joking about the idea of enjoying being hunted. I guess. Kinda embarrassing to admit to a stranger.” - Fawnteeth - 11:00 PM

11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Does that embarrassment excite you, Fawn?”

“Maybe.” - Fawnteeth - 11:00 PM

11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I expect yes or no answers. If you’re not sure say so.”

“Yes, then.” - Fawnteeth - 11:00 PM

11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good girl. What do you want me to do when I catch you?”

There’s no hesitation, no doubt in the message. What do you want when I catch you. Not would you want, not if I caught you. When. You can’t help but squirm. For a moment, you consider pacing your tiny, cluttered bedroom.

“Is whatever you want the wrong answer?” - Fawnteeth - 11:01 PM

“I might be new, but I think I’m kinda open. I want to please, I suppose.” - Fawnteeth - 11:01 PM

11:01 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Not at all a wrong answer.”

11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Have you ever been spanked before? You said it was a favorite.”

“Yes.” - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

You bite your lip - it technically isn’t a lie. You have been spanked - just… not sexually. It’s fine .

11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you be willing to use a paddle, crop or belt in my absence if I believe you need punishment?”

“I’m not sure. I have a very high pain tolerance, but I don’t live alone, sound is a concern.” - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

11:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Not a problem. Making a small list for a care package if you show me potential is all.”

“Well, what can I do to impress you, Sir?” - Fawnteeth - 11:03 PM

“I don’t mind homework, for lack of a better word.” - Fawnteeth - 11:03 PM

11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Eager, aren’t you? I’m not done.”

11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Dirty talking. What are your limits, and do you have a specific pet name you want me to use?”

“I like Fawn, obviously. Affectionate things, I think it’s better figuring it out organically. Feels more genuine.” - Fawnteeth - 11:04 PM

11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And no humiliation.”

11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Understood.”

11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I have rules. It’s better that I tell you about them early. They’ve scared most people off.”

“ Well. I won’t pass judgment immediately.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM

“I don’t cut my hair.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM

11:05 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I would be disappointed if you did. Speaking of, I only allow my submissive to trim their pubic hair for one, no shaving it.”

“That’s fine with me. I haven’t shaved anything in a while.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM

11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ If you are going to be unavailable for more than a few hours I expect an explanation so I know you are safe. I don’t allow my partners to go to clubs or bars without me either. If this becomes serious I expect you to download a location tracking app so I know where you are at all times.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I don’t go out much.” - Fawnteeth - 11:06 PM

11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I am not polyamorous. If you want to be mine you are only mine, and I will hold myself to the same standard.”

“That’s fine with me. I have been talking to someone else, but about as much as you at this point. Honesty and all that stuff.” - Fawnteeth - 11:06 PM

11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I don’t let things I own go into disrepair; You will take care of yourself and report what you don’t complete. Punishments will be given if you do not complete these tasks.”

11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “The basic daily requirements are the following: Three meals a day, showering every day, an hour of exercise and a consistent bedtime during weekdays.”

“Okay. Did this really scare people off?” - Fawnteeth - 11:07 PM

11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “People have called me controlling. It sounds like you want to surrender your control though.”

“Not wrong.” - Fawnteeth - 11:07 PM

11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You’re not hard to read.”

“I’ll try and take it as a compliment.” - Fawnteeth - 11:07 PM

11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Deception and confusion are a waste of time. Own it.”

“I’ll try my best. I’m used to being considered odd.” - Fawnteeth - 11:08 PM

11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Are you?”

“I’m on fetlife. So, yes.” - Fawnteeth - 11:08 PM

11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I suppose.”

11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ We already established you’re new to this. Will I be your first dominant?”

“Yes. Not my first partner.” - Fawnteeth - 11:08 PM

11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Were they not interested in this?”

“I never brought it up to them. I don’t really want romance right now.” - Fawnteeth - 11:09 PM

11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And if you fall for me?”

“I’d rather talk about it then, I suppose. I don’t get the vibe from you that you’re looking for romance, just a pet.” - Fawnteeth - 11:09 PM

11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good, and no, not right now.”

“But you think I’ll fall in love with you?” - Fawnteeth - 11:09 PM

11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re young and inexperienced. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.”

11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ My last important rule - no drugs, limited alcohol. If you drink you must have friends with you that are reliable or myself. Drinking and doing drugs is just asking to put yourself in a vulnerable situation. It’s a precaution some have complained about.”

With how much he spoke of other people not liking his rules it was almost like he was trying to talk you out of it.

“That’s fine. I celebrated my 21st by watching movies.” - Fawnteeth - 11:10 PM

11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What movies?”

“Midsommar, it’s my favorite. Silence of the lambs too. Roomies insisted on watching Barbie after that. lol ” - Fawnteeth - 11:10 PM

11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You like horror.”

“Yes. I thought the ghostface poster in my 3rd photo gave it away.” - Fawnteeth - 11:11 PM

11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And you’d like him or some other violent thing to chase you down and do whatever they wanted with you instead of killing you.”

11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It must make watching movies with a group tense if that’s what is going through your mind.”

“I won’t say it doesn’t.” - Fawnteeth - 11:11 PM

11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Let me guess: some part of you likes the discomfort?”

“Honestly. I haven’t thought about it. Probably.” - Fawnteeth - 11:11 PM

11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I think you’d like to walk around with a lovense in you, never knowing when I might turn it on or increase the settings. You enjoy suspense.”

“ It’s appealing, yeah.” - Fawnteeth - 11:12 PM

You sit back on your bed, propping up the laptop with your pillows. Why did you love that this guy was reading you like an open book? You take in a deep breath, remember - play it cool.

11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What do you want out of all of this?”

“My first thought is sex - but also to learn myself a bit more, I guess. Explore something with a partner I can trust… Please someone, feel better about myself. Like I said - I’m a tall woman, it doesn’t exactly make you feel pretty.” - Fawnteeth - 11:12 PM

11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good."

You bite your lip, reading over the message on your dimly lit phone screen over and over again. Curling up tighter into the cotton blanket on your bed, you exhale, the cheap mattress creaking underneath you. You flinch, eyes flickering towards the shut door of your bedroom. Your heart flutters in your chest for a few moments until silence rings in your ears.

You haven’t woken up any of your roommates.Thank god.

Sighing, you turn your attention back to your phone, looking over the message again.

11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good."

Usually men are more expressive in their text speech when it comes to you - to the extent that some even make you uncomfortable. But WebRigger2099… is very much not . You’ve dubbed him 'Web' in your head, easy enough with his username.

Web is formal, speaks with proper punctuation and never a single spelling mistake or emote. He’s direct, not flowery or soft in any way. But… you kind of like that. Direct is easy. There’s no guessing games with instructions and meanings laid out plainly.

11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 -“ You are very pretty, by the way. ”

You blush.

#miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #fanfic #fanfiction

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tangents-within-tangents · 8 months ago

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Thoughts on Echo as amputee/disability representation

First and foremost, I am not disabled or an amputee and I don’t claim to speak for those communities (and if I was I couldn't speak for everyone). What little I do know mostly comes from this youtube channel (@oakwyrm), this post, and other research I’ve done for my writing (and like one amputee I kinda knew in passing). By all means correct me and add to the conversation, I just have some thoughts I want to share because I haven’t really seen this discussed anywhere

Overview

So Echo is interesting. He is a triple amputee which is pretty rare in media. His disabilities come from extremely traumatic circumstances: injured in a near-death experience, imprisoned and dehumanized as an experiment with no autonomy over what happened to his body.

There are a few moments in the shows where Echo is treated… questionably. Like this bit where Rex uses him as an example of the Separatists' evils to convince the locals to fight back:

To be fair, yeah Echo’s treatment does prove that the Techno Union is not neutral like they claim. The modifications that everyone is gasping in horror at here obviously weren’t made with comfort and accessibility in mind, nor with Echo’s consent. But you still just want to be sure that “They took away his freedom, his humanity, they tried to turn him into a machine” is about using him as a living computer, not the fact that he is missing limbs.

The Batch is also pretty insensitive toward him and his trauma imo, which is weird considering they've supposedly also faced discrimination for their mutations

Disabled people do have to deal with stuff like this in this day and age so I guess it can speak to those experiences. I think especially him being mistaken as a droid (and Hunter going along with it (bruh)) might resonate with some people.

Aside from that stuff, Echo isn't really treated any differently as a character/person which is really good (as low of a bar as that is).

We get this moment in CW where Echo contemplates that yeah things are gonna be different now

While also (imo at least) showing that he is still the same person regardless, evidenced by the fact that he just echoed Rex :,) I also think it's significant that he joins the Bad Batch on his own terms and we're given a really emotional scene to specifically show that he's not just like 'lumped in with the other misfits' but that it is his choice to go where he feels his place is.

A lot of people, myself included, are disappointed that TBB didn't have more time to explore Echo's PTSD, but I think the one panic attack scene we did get is really good. Even thought it's minor it at least is an appropriate reaction from a guy who was medically tortured (which is more than I've come to expect from Star Wars shows lol)

And it's really sweet to see Omega showing Echo some empathy and consideration.

It would have been nice to see more of his adjustment period, and other side effects like chronic pain and maintenance, but there’s a lot of daily life stuff the show never had time for (i.e. we don’t know if he removed his prosthetics to sleep, but we also never saw him sleep anyway). His disabilities might take on a background role (much like the character himself sadly) but for the most part they aren’t invisible or erased, nor do they define his character and arc.

Physical Appearance

Okay this one is bit dicey, bc on the one hand, yes complaints that Echo’s paleness (most likely caused by burns from the explosion or chemical burns from the cryo-chamber) is whitewashing are totally valid. But I also think you can draw comparisons to real life conditions that affect pigmentation/complexion (like you know burns). So while I understand why a lot of fanart will depict him with his original skin tone and with hair, consider that there are real people who have to live with temporary or permanent changes to their appearance, and the idea of “fixing" him by making him look more like his old self can be problematic.

It's also interesting to note that Echo could act as a reversal of the 'disabled/disfigured = evil' trope. He's pale and bald and wears black and red, which is so often visually associated with villains, but we all know Echo is the bestest boy™

The Headpiece

Echo’s headpiece is interesting because within the show we don’t actually ever learn much about it (idk if there is more info in books or whatever bc i don’t have them so?). He didn’t have it in CW so we know it didn’t come from the Techno Union and therefore Echo probably had more choice with it. We don’t know its exact purpose but it’s most likely related to his scomping abilities. When he is hacking with his scomp in CW, before he has his headpiece, it’s clearly very mentally straining:

We don’t see him struggling like this in TBB once he does have it (though that could be bc he got more used to it over time). There doesn't seem to be much of an impact when he removes his headpiece in s3 ep14-15, except that he gets stuck in the ports every time he uses his scomp which is not something we’ve seen before:

There might not be an exact real-world equivalent, but the headpiece is some kind of accessibility aid. It means that someone specifically designed a device to help him adapt to the changes the Techno Union made, as well as a helmet that integrates it. It’s removable and visually very present, much like a cochlear implant would be. (A lot of people actually headcanon it to act partially as a hearing aid, since it makes sense that Echo’s hearing would have been damaged in the explosion, but there isn't really any indication of this in canon.) The headpiece is never really acknowledged in the show, but I think that's a good thing. It's something he needs/wants and it just exists, completely normalized, and that's pretty cool 👍

Legs

Sigh... So from the very first episode of TBB I was really disappointed that the animation team or whoever completely visually erased Echo’s prosthetic legs (I think we all were, honestly, if fanart is anything to go by). It’s one thing when he’s in armor because he would probably want to protect his prosthetics, but we literally see him in his blacks and there is no indication whatsoever that he lost his legs even though it was not left up for debate at all in CW:

Like ??????!?

This is just really strange to me! Idk what went on behind the scenes with this decision but I don’t really see why it would be that much harder to animate or anything since it’s 3D and they've done it before. We do see some pretty sophisticated cybernetic technology in Star Wars canon that mimics real limbs:

But Luke’s fancy hand is technically 20ish years from now, so Anakin and Maul are more of a representation of what level we could expect here

So yeah, for no apparent reason, his leg amputation is effectively, visually and narratively nonexistent. Which is not great 👎

Arm!

The scomp on the other hand (uh lol!) is the complete opposite and I kinda love it!

At first I, like many others, thought it was a bit odd that they didn’t give Echo a prosthetic arm. Losing hands is basically a Star Wars tradition at this point, so robotic arms/hands are well established within the worldbuilding:

We aren’t necessarily given a canon reason for why Echo doesn't get a cybernetic arm (again unless it's in some lore book I haven’t read, sorry). General fanon explanations I’ve seen are that he either couldn’t because the Techno Union wired the scomp too far into his nervous system, and/or the resources to give him one were deemed too expensive for a clone (what about his legs tho?), or that he chose not to, usually because he thought the scomping was useful.

Regardless, I actually really love this choice (and it's the whole reason I made this post), because here's the thing: There’s a lot of problematic tropes out there that either erase/cure disabilities or compensate them with perks (like how pretty much any blind character is actually not blind by some sort of magic power). With amputees that is done with robotic arms. The character is still an amputee or course, and there is still value in that representation, if this story from Mark Hamill that makes me tear up is anything to go by:

but for the most part these characters function like anyone else, just with a limb that looks a little different. It’s no more than a video game skin, an able-bodied actor with a green screen glove. It “cures” the disability, or it actually makes the character even stronger than usual:

It usually makes sense within the world of the story, but the reason it’s not so great in my opinion is that in the real world we just do not have technology anywhere close to that yet. Prosthetics can more or less replace any mobility from lost legs, but not for all the complexities of a hand (and even if they could the average person wouldn’t be able to afford it).

I think it's actually really super cool that Echo’s scomp bypasses the canonically-established amputee erasure and functions much like a stump would irl. He integrates it into his movements and everyday life and it’s (as far as I know) a lot closer to an everyday amputee’s experience.

It doesn’t define his character, it doesn’t hold him back, he lives a full life, the other’s don’t treat him any differently, and he’s still a total karking badass

The only additional thing is that he sometimes uses it as a weapon (which given his story, I think it’s cool to see him taking back autonomy in a way, and we only see that like twice)

And also the scomping, which could be seen as the 'added/compensating superpower' trope. But narratively it's no different than if he was plugging in with a hacking gadget of some kind (he didn't necessarily "need" to lose his arm for it) and it’s not like Echo is completely defined by this skill. Personally, I think it's well worth the positives of him actually having a visible and realistically impactful amputation.

I see a lot of posts or comments out there that say stuff like “how come Echo doesn’t get a hand?” or fanworks that do give him one and I just think it’s a bit of a shame. If he did get a robotic hand, it just would have disappeared the same way his legs and Anakin’s arm did (aside from that one time he got yoinked by a magnet). When Echo did “get a hand” in the last two episodes there were comments like “yay he finally got a hand! but it doesn’t even work” but I was actually so relieved that it didn’t! Bc for one thing that wouldn’t make any sense, he grabbed it off a droid, it wasn’t designed to implement with his scomp, that would be really complicated. But more importantly because it again refused to erase/cure his disability! It functioned like a real-world cosmetic prosthetic (useless beyond appearance) which is exactly what he needed it for, so that he could blend in better with his disguise.

And he continually took it off throughout the episode and ditched it at the end. He only used it for the necessity of a stealth mission, he doesn’t feel the need to visually “fit in” in his daily life.

And, last but very much not least, he made a dad joke and from my intel that is very accurate representation!

TLDR: Echo’s scomp is actually really cool from an amputee representation perspective, especially within Star Wars, and I think that deserves some appreciation

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pernesophe · 23 days ago

Text

Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader with Drawl

(Minors, Ageless and Blank Blogs DNI)

Synopsis: You are pretty quiet after being bullied throughout middle school for your accent. That is until you meet Kuroo Tetsuro who is persistent in making you socialize with him and the other Volleyballer players (and talk as a result). WC: 4944 TW: fluff

Nekoma High hadn’t been so bad since you started - certainly not as bad as middle school. Moving to Japan part way through your sixth grade year was rough enough, but add the fact that you were from the “Deep South” and didn’t know a lick of Japanese - well it wasn’t an easy time to say the least.

Even now, in your 2nd year of high school, you were still attending speech therapy to suppress the drawl that muddles your words. Still, you relied on simple words and short phrases to communicate, even though your understanding of the language was much better than what it once was. Keeping things short made it easy for others to understand you, and more importantly you weren’t made fun of like you were in middle school.

The only drawback in your approach to the new language, school and country was that you didn’t have very many friends. It was difficult to be known when you barely spoke. Regardless, you’ve managed to maintain a quiet, but kind persona at school. When requested to help, or if you were able to offer it - you did. You just did so quietly and without talking about yourself much. Though it could be lonely at times, at the very least people didn’t think you were mean or stuck up, and you were never really put in situations where you were expected to speak more.

That is, until one day you were leaving the library with your arms full of books and notes, rounding the corner you ran directly into what you thought was a support pole that smelled oddly like bergamot and peppermint tea. Once you looked up from where you landed on the ground with all your belongings scattered about - you could see it was actually one of the volleyball players. Kuroo Tetsuro.

“Oh my god - I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” The raven haired player swiftly apologized before stooping to gather your items together.

“It’s okay - no worries!” Responding simply, as you shot him a small smile and nod while shuffling some more papers into a folder.

Despite your attempts, your dreaded drawl coated the words in molasses while you internally kicked yourself. The muscles in your back tensed in preparation for the ensuing jokes.

Kuroo's brow twitched when the honeyed words hit his ears. Everything about your speech was correct, but it was like they passed through a sugar shack steeped in maple warmth before gracing the space between you. Instantly your melodic timbre heated his cheeks in the same way when his mom asked why he liked red so much as a kid and he defensively shot back, "I don't know! I just like it, okay?"

“Here, let me at least help carry these for you. It’s the least I can do for knocking you over!” He offered with a wide grin while situating several books and folders under one arm - leaving you with one small novel in your hands. Blinking up at him quickly in surprise, you shook your head lightly while flashing him a smile that wordlessly conveyed ‘you don’t have to do that!’

“No, it’s okay, don’t worry about it!” Chirping back as you reached for your books, but this time you managed to scrape every bit of sugary goodness from your timbre. For a moment, Kuroo wondered if he imagined your accent, but all he had to do was get you to talk more to hear it, right? So, he just laughed you off while walking in the direction you were going.

“You were heading this way, right? Let’s go! I’ve been wanting to ask about you anyway - I’ve seen you around since last year but I’ve never gotten the chance to talk to you. I actually don’t even know your name…” he laughed lightheartedly, truly just being kind. Regardless of his intentions, you felt fear grip your chest at the thought of talking. He didn’t seem to be dropping it, so you meekly stayed in stride with him. “I’m Kuroo Tetsuro by the way - I’m a second year!” He offered cheerfully.

“Oh, um, I’m Y/N L/N - a second year student as well.” Speaking clearly, deliberate in enunciating your words, yet your tone was light - almost hushed.

“Y/N is a great name!” He exclaimed, mahogany eyes lighting up when he heard what grade you were in. “I didn’t realize you were a second year too, what class are you in?” The same excitement remained in his question, heat rushed to your cheeks as the words formed on your tongue.

“Um, 2-B…” murmuring softly as you looked anywhere but at him. From the corner of your eye you could see his excitement turn to shock as he blinked rapidly at you.

“That’s my class! Wait, seriously? Did you transfer recently, or?” His question was laced in an awkward smile followed by a dubious chuckle. Suddenly you wished he was inconsiderate enough to use his full stride to get to your destination quicker, rather than slowing down for your shorter legs.

“Um, no… I’ve been there since the start of this year…” you admitted sheepishly, mirroring his awkward smile. Again, he blinked in shock as his mouth opened and closed like a guppy.

“What?" The word dropped from his mouth like a stone, while all you could do was throw him a tight smile - unsure of how to respond. "How didn’t I notice?! I see you around campus, but I didn’t even realize you were in my class? How did I manage that?” He chastised himself, easing the tension crawling up your spine as laughter bubbled up from deep in your gut. Kuroo glanced over to see your timid mask break to reveal the most breathtaking smile as a soft tittering passed your lips.

“I’m just quiet,” you reassured him gently, a more honest smile curving your mouth. Before Kuroo could say anything else, the two of you arrived at your destination. Thanking him politely with a little more genuine smile than the first one as you leaned in to take your books, enveloping him in your nutty-candied woods aroma before you went on your way. Kuroo didn’t expect to think about you so often after that short encounter, but it seemed like every time he caught a whiff of burnt sugar you would come to mind.

As the weeks passed, Kuroo not so subtly watched your interactions around school, he saw that you were kind of a loner. Not in a bad way, you just seemed extremely focused on your studies - even going as far as reading, or working during social hours like lunch. The other thing he noticed was that you were so very kind.

Not once in those weeks when a peer or teacher requested your assistance did you refuse them, and when you passed peers (older or younger) and you were able to help them in some way - you would offer it. Still, during those interactions you stayed focused on the task at hand and didn’t really speak to your peers - always taking your leave after the task was finished instead of hanging out. Kurro didn't spy that genuine smile once during those interactions, let alone heard you laugh like you did with him. It really did feel like you were wearing some kind of mask all of the time.

Despite your secluded nature, Kuroo felt determined to get to know you and started talking to you every day in class. At first you were a little taken aback, but you never turned him away, always stayed polite and answered him honestly - beyond that you allowed the conversation to die naturally. This didn’t deter the raven haired blocker though since he would just find you during lunch hours and drag you off to sit with his friends. Again, you were too polite to say no, and to be honest the lively volleyball guys made you laugh a lot.

Overtime, you became comfortable enough to ask them about themselves, and make small comments on their answers or stories unprompted. Still, when it came to yourself you remained short with your words. Kuroo hadn’t brought it up to you yet, but he wanted to ask you to be the Nekoma Volleyball Manager - that way you could just get more social interaction in general. Not to mention the fact that he had been living on the crumbs of your smiles and laughter for weeks, and he’d been craving to just know more of you.

Eventually, the Nekoma Coach saw how hard Kuroo has been working with you for the past couple of months, and approached you at school one day to see if you would be willing to help with the training camp. Of course, you agreed, but you also let him know you didn’t know much about volleyball in as simplest terms as you could. He assured you that you’d do fine and that it would mostly be filling water bottles, so with that you officially agreed. Coach also mentioned that if you enjoyed it, then they were looking for a team manager if you wanted an extracurricular activity on your transcript.

On the first day of training camp you were immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of people trying to talk to you. Luckily, your persona really worked to keep the other players at bay. That, and Kuroo intimidatingly standing behind you or just cutting off another team’s player before they approached you without you noticing at all.

The day passed with you filling water bottles and sticking close to the coach for any further instructions, but you were able to mingle with the managers of the Karasuno team. Both of whom heard your drawl when you stubbed your toe and cursed under your breath. They both turned to you in unison, surprised beyond belief, the smaller blonde girl’s eyes were absolutely gleaming.

“Uh, sorry… for cursing.” You apologized quickly and politely, but they both shook their heads - waving their hands at you while shooting kind smiles your way.

“No worries at all!” Kiyoko said, genuinely as she bent down to help you put the bottles back in their carrier. At first you were a little taken aback by her kindness, but you just smiled to yourself before quickly grabbing some more bottles.

“I don’t think I’ve heard a drawl in real life - it’s really, really cute Y/N!” Yachi beamed at you while grabbing the last bottle to slot in your carrier. You didn’t realize the anxiety you were harboring until that moment - with their smiles and kind words it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. An easygoing smile tugged at your lips as the three of you walked back to the gym.

Of course, several of the teams noticed the change in your demeanor when you returned. The Nekoma and Karasuno team took a more vested interest in your change. The cats because you might be their new manager (plus the not so subtle crush their blocker has on you). The crows because it seemed their managers chiseled away at your walls a bit. Both Kiyoko and Yachi mentioned your drawl to their team members - endearingly - commenting that they had no idea that you came from the US. This development made its way over to Kuroo by the late night training sessions.

“Yeah, Kiyoko mentioned she has a drawl, but I’ve never heard it.” Tsukishima spoke up after blocking one of Bokuto's spikes. Kuroo’s head popped up because he knew he heard a drawl the first day you met.

“It can be pretty difficult to speak a new language with an accent like that. It’s barely noticeable though, so she must have put in a lot of work.” Akaashi remarked while tossing another ball for Bokuto to spike. Kuroo blinked, almost failing to block it, but quickly recovered. Once his feet were on the ground again he silently pondered if that’s why you were so quiet. He remained distracted the rest of the practice session until Akaashi called it.

Two weeks into the training camp, and the worst possible thing could have happened - one of your old middle school peers showed up late. The one who used to incessantly make fun of your accent, where you came from and just about anything else he could think of. Memories of being called a “hick”, “redneck” and other region specific insults that you didn’t understand, but still got the message across. Immediately, your mask went back up as a defense mechanism, but you made an active effort to continue speaking openly with those around you despite your anxiety. Though you hid your nerves pretty well, Kuroo could tell something was up.

At first, your old classmate didn’t seem to recognize you and you were grateful for that. Quickly, your luck ran out after the regular practice was dismissed for the day and Kuroo asked if you could stay to help with after hours practice. Of course, you agreed and offered to go ahead and top off the bottles, which they all gratefully took you up on. The last bottle was filled and had just been placed in the pack strapped across your chest as you straightened up to head back to the gym. The moment your gaze rose from the ground, you were met with a familiar face that you had been dreading.

“Y/N L/N! I didn’t even recognize you - you look so good!” The handsome boy with shining blue irises greeted you excitedly. Despite your nerves burning under your skin, you offered a smile and a polite nod in return.

“Hello. Good to see you,” you responded simply as you tried to walk past him back to the gym. Stepping in front of you he effectively blocked your path.

“Holy shit - your Japanese isn’t even half bad now!” He grinned down at you, no doubt trying to make light of the teasing he used to inflict upon you a few years prior.

“Thank you - I’ve been working on it,” you replied quietly with another simple nod. Attempting to skirt around him, but he stepped in your way again.

“Do you remember how bad your accent used to be?” He laughed, completely unaware that whatever his attempt at flirting was not effective as he leaned a little closer and leered a little harder. Instead, you felt your heart flutter and then stop in the worst way. Fear.

“Um, yeah… I do,” you mumbled and immediately grimaced as your drawl coated the words. Hanging your head, you expected an onslaught of insults or maybe some malicious laughter. Instead he tittered softly, as if you were endearing to him now.

“Oh, there it is!” He teased with a playful glint in his eyes. “Honestly, I never really told you how cut-” he started to say while reaching up to brush some hair from your face. Reflexively you took a step backwards. Only to be stopped by what felt like a brick wall - a very tall, warm brick wall that smelled oddly like bergamot, peppermint tea and cedar. Tilting your head back until the top of your head skimmed it, you could see the wall was actually Kuroo Tetsuro - who was staring the other player down over your head.

“You aren’t bothering our team’s little helper are you? Hopefully soon-to-be Nekoma's Team Manager.” He said it with an easy going smile playing on his lips, but his typically playful mahogany irises were sharpened and icy now. “Cause I thought we came here to train - not harass the girls.” He masked his subtle taunt with that leisurely smile and a slight tilt of his head. Immediately, upon recognizing Nekoma’s famed blocker, your old classmate swiftly apologized and scurried back to his team.

“You alright?” Kuroo inquired as you turned around to face him - the easy going smile replaced with an expression of unsuppressed concern.

“I’m alright. Thank you.” Returning a grateful smile, and for once your shoulders and face relaxed in a way that Kuroo hadn’t seen before - like you felt safe. So he stuck close to your side the whole way back to the gym, and you subconsciously stayed close enough that your arms brushed back and forth as you walked.

Kuroo didn’t bring up the incident at first, but since a few other players saw, word spread quickly and some of the others grilled him about it while you were busying yourself with something across the gym. After much back and forth, it was decided that Kuroo should go ahead and ask you about it now while it’s still fresh.

“Hey Y/N,” Kuroo called and you looked over at him with an inquisitive tilt of your head. “That guy earlier said you have an accent? I mean I’ve never noticed it, but is that why you don’t really talk?” Kuroo asked you directly - silently hoping you would just spill it if given the chance. Your eyes widened and hands stilled in the middle of your task as a hush fell around the gym. Apparently it had been the talk of the training camp.

“Um, well, yeah...” you responded in a voice that was just barely audible, but the words still echoed around the room while you ducked your head in shame. After a long pause of no one speaking up, and Kuroo’s gaze glued to you - the entire time waiting, you continued. “I mean… I moved here my first year of middle school, and it was a quick decision so I didn’t have time to become fluent in Japanese. I picked up necessary phrases pretty quickly, and I think I have a good understanding of the language now, but I-I sometimes have an accent in conversation…” you paused, but no one interrupted you.

So you continued talking, “I was picked on for it - called a hick and redneck a lot. Also some things that seemed specific to making fun of Americans - but I didn’t really understand those if I’m being honest.” Chuckling softly while fidgeting with the papers in your hands. “I took a lot of speech therapy classes to help - and I still do - but I can’t really get rid of the accent.” Looking back at Kuroo and the others to signify that you were done speaking, who all shared the same sympathetic expression.

“Middle Schoolers are mean as hell!!” Bokuto shouted in disbelief, which made you jump in surprise at the volume, followed by unbridled laughter from you. Everyone was shocked by the sudden break in your mask to say the least, though Kuroo was just mesmerized by how lovely your genuine smile is.

“Yeah that’s pretty accurate.” Conceding with his statement and nodding in agreement - you were finally relaxed. Nobody made fun of you, and you even got some validation - which was a first!

“I like your accent - it’s cute.” Kuroo blurted out without a second though, and immediately wanted to facepalm himself for not even trying to filter himself. Before he could die of embarrassment, the other players began nodding and voicing their agreements. Kuroo secretly thanked the universe that everyone in the gym was trying to make you feel better, and not pick up on the fact that he wanted to make you feel more than just better.

“Oh, well, thank you - I appreciate that.” You responded bashfully as heat rose to your cheeks, uncertain of how to react to all of the praise.

“Well I think that’s the most you’ve ever spoken to anyone,” Kuroo laughed, “so we’ll have to keep up the momentum. Spike or Block?” Posing the question with a mischievous smile.

“Blo-block?” Murmuring timidly, eyes wider than a deer’s caught in the headlights - having no idea where he was going with this.

“Okay then, everytime I block Bokuto we get to ask you a personal question. If you don’t want to answer you can pass, but then we get to ask you a different question. Deal?” His cheshire grin grew wider while you slowly nodded in agreement. Kuroo tossed the ball to Akaashi who volleyed it for Bokuto.

Slap! Smack! Bang!

The entire gym erupted into laughter at your surprise that the first block came less than a minute later - your gaze flitted from Kuroo to where the ball landed on the other side of the court.

I want to know everything about you. Kuroo mused internally as he met your astonished expression.

“Do you have any siblings?” Posing the question with a tilt of his head as he tossed the ball back to Akaashi.

So literally just run of the mill questions about me? Relief washed over you at the realization.

“Mhm - I have an older brother and older sister who still live in the US. My brother is 5 years older than me, and my sister is 3 years older.” Answering with a small smile, worry nipped at you over divulging more than his question required.

“Good, I think we’re getting somewhere.” Kuroo said as his grin spread even wider to reach his now polished mahogany irises. Instantly your worry disappeared as you felt yourself smiling wider in return. Chuckling as he turned back to Bokuto getting into position, “alright next!”

After that day, you actually started talking more and for once you didn't mind when your drawl awkwardly coated the words. For once no one else seemed to care either - they were all just ecstatic that you were finally opening up. Most of all Kuroo.

On the last day of training camp, Nekoma's coach asked if you would be their team manager and you happily agreed. That evening the team presented you with an official Nekoma Team jacket that Coach ordered for you on the first day of training camp.

For the first time in a long time, you cried happy tears. Of course the team didn't realize and scrambled about trying to figure out how to comfort you until you quietly eeked out, "thank you so much... I'm really excited to be a part of the team!"

The room stilled when you flashed them a bright smile between sniffles as you wiped away the tears, quickly followed by a collective sigh of relief when you shrugged on the jacket.

"Well, since it's official - let's go celebrate!" Kuroo broke the silence, that iconic cheshire grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His smile remained plastered on his face throughout the entire dinner, and even into the next day. Though you didn't notice his burnt sienna gaze studying you throughout dinner, or the bus ride home as you laughed and joked with the team.

Honestly, it wouldn't be until your second year at University that you discovered Kuroo's feelings for you. The two of you were accepted into the same University after graduation - Kuroo got in on a volleyball scholarship, and you got in on an academic scholarship. You continued as manager for the University's volleyball team as well.

It was after the team's first big win that year, the two of you had settled into a back booth at the bar - comfortably sipping your drinks with Kuroo's arm slung over the bench behind you. That familiar bergamot-peppermint tea fragrance clung to him, enveloping you whenever a patron walked by your table - your attention drawn to the band droning out their first song on the other side of the bar. His sepia irises peered down at you, the softest traces of burnt sugar mingled with notes of your mapled-nut aroma swirled around him once more before his low timbre broke through the chatter and music.

"So I was wondering," his low timbre drew your attention, as he swirled his drink in his glass before meeting your gaze fully. You tilted your head slightly, big doe eyes blinking up at him patiently, "can I be your boyfriend?"

Though his voice was smooth, his nerves were shot - which didn't help when you just stared up at him silently. Slowly your eyes widened until you started blinking rapidly as his words processed.

"Wait, what?" You questioned with a slight shake of your head, Kuroo immediately felt his heart stutter and his skin grow prickly from embarrassment. A notch formed in your brow as Kuroo prepared himself for the ensuing rejection, but what you asked next almost made him choke. "Seriously? Me?"

Now it was Kuroo who could only sit and stare down at you, completely bewildered, until he burst out laughing - head tilting back slightly. Before your own fear of rejection set in, he met your gaze again with an incredulous look on his face.

"Seriously. You," he answered earnestly. "Why do you think I pestered you so much in High School, or basically made you hang out with the team and be our manager? I mean I applied to the same school as you," he chuckled lightly. All you could do was gawk up at him which made him break out into even more tittering.

"No," you said purposefully, cutting off his laughter as he peered down at you with raised brows. "I applied to the same school as you. I made sure to ask Kenma where you were applying before I started filling out my applications," you corrected him quietly. Your drawl coating the words in molasses at some points, which made Kuroo simper at you tenderly.

"That's hilarious," Kuroo replied with a knowing grin and a disbelieving shake of his head, “I asked him the same thing."

At that, both of you burst into a fit of giggles as you peered together at the first year volleyball player across the bar. Turning your gaze back, you studied his side profile framed by soft, inky locks for a long moment - reminiscing about the first day you met to today. Leaning in close, your lips brushed his cheek - making him jump - but then he heard your warm, sugared voice in his ear.

"Yes," you breathed out, earning a shocked look when Kuroo turned to face you fully - nose to nose now. First he saw your gently simpering expression directed at him before your soft declaration graced his ears, "I’d love for you to be my boyfriend."

His eyes widened, brows raised in surprise, until his face relaxed in relief as he cupped your cheek. Ever so gently his lips brushed yours until you pressed forward, kissing him purposefully. Kuroo’s lips were soft and felt right when slotted between yours - traces of your candied-woods scent fused with his musky-herbal tea aroma oh so deliciously. The triplets echoing from the drums and the chatter of other patrons died away as your entire world narrowed down to the booth bench where you and Kuroo sat. The two of you didn't part until you heard applause from the opposite side of the bar, which was led by Bokuto who immediately started whooping and hollering when you turned in unison at the disruption.

Once the chorus of cheering and clapping died down, since the two of you were officially dating now, Kuroo finally told you how Bokuto helped him out back in training camp. Apparently the famed player had only spiked balls your boyfriend could block so you would keep talking. Though the prideful Bokuto would vehemently deny this well into his third year at Uni.

That may have just been because he had a new secret to keep though. Seeing as after y’all’s Uni team went to nationals, and won, Bokuto was tasked with keeping you busy until everything was set. He told you in length how he spiked those easy blocks all those years ago while the team scurried around in the gym setting up the banner and the flowers…

When you were finally giggling and waving Bokuto off - telling him you needed to check on the team - he scrambled to keep you in the hall longer. But then his phone pinged and his face broke into a wide grin before he relented and led you to the gym.

When the double doors swung open you were met with total darkness, and shot Bokuto a concerned look, but then the lights turned on all at once to reveal a magnolia ladened room. Venturing further into the gym you spied huge, cream petals blushing pink and yellow at the base were scattered about with woven vines of whole flowers laced around the railings and creating an aisle that led from the doors to the back of the gym.

Standing at the end of the aisle was Kuroo with his iconic cheshire grin, and uncharacteristically pink cheeks as you came to a halt in front of him. Before you could ask what was going on, a large white banner dropped from the railing on the second floor behind him, unfolding to reveal a simple phrase in bold print:

‘Will You Marry Me?’

As your eyes scanned the text, following the swaying banner down to where your boyfriend stood - you found him on one knee with an open box in his hands, a ring nestled in the satin fabric. Offered to you.

“Y/N,” there was a tremble in his voice, his nerves showing as he peered up at you so nervously. Hot, wet tears collected along your lash line, breath caught in your throat as he prepared to speak again. “Will you-” before the question could fully leave his lips, you threw your arms around him - nestling your face into his neck while nodding emphatically.

“Yes!” You cried into his warm, herbal-scented skin - your tears finally dropped haphazardly, landing and soaking into his t-shirt. “Yes, of course I will,” murmuring a little softer, your sugared drawl coating the words in that way Kuroo would cherish for the rest of his days.

Pinned Post (I have no rights to these characters, the works they come from, or the art/screenshots/manga panels used in this post. Screenshots taken from pinterest, so if you know the creator please lmk! Divider is from @sweetmelodygraphics)

Kuroo's Scent: The Pour un Ete by L’Artisan Reader's Scent: Followed by Kerosene

#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #sp’s headspace #pernesophe #haikyuu fluff #I started this over 6 months ago and left it in my drafts - finished it today and now need it out of my drafts #really not my best work but still good practice - hope you like it anyway though!

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