#Pre game release Fic

[sincerelymanic]

Looking for a new Fanfiction to read while the game isn't out? This is gonna come out at at least 40K words.

Summary:

I've never had what one would call an easy life. The Temple who raised me up as their Oracle, turned against me when the truth of my curse came to light. After fleeing from the Temple, I made my way to Eridia. I naively thought the Senobium would be my new salvation. Turns out they don't take too kindly to people coming up to the gates asking for help. Several broken ribs later, I'd learned another hard lesson about life.

I say all that to say, I've been through it more than a few times. But it feels like this time, things are going in the right direction. I've made unexpected friends in unexpected places. I still have my curse but I'm living with it. I'm finally starting to make a name for myself apart from 'cursed one' or 'abomination'. Life's not perfect, but it's mine.

Little did I know that my foundations are about to crumble all around me. Because when things seem too good to be true, they often are.

[mattybsgroupie]

Thoughs on milf reader x shy Chris

many, many thoughts. enough thoughts for a fic, perhaps…..

edit: the fic was written. HERE

chris never fails to make you laugh. he’s younger than you, but that doesn’t make him any less attractive. you daughter introduced him as a friend and he’d often come over to play video games or just hangout, and whenever your daughter was upstairs, getting ready to go out or busy with something else, chris would keep you company at the kitchen.

until he came over while your daughter was traveling with her father. you were home alone, and he knew it.

“hi, dear” you said while opening the door, the sweet yet sensual tone in your voice sending a shiver down chris’s spine.

“uhm, hey” he said, scratching the back of his head. you noticed how his fingers tangled on his hair — chris was tense. the other hand was placed inside his pocket and chris had his lips bruised from biting them all the time.

“she’s not here today, honey” you told him, thinking your daughter could’ve forgotten to tell him she’d be absent. “i know” chris answered on a firm voice, looking at you for the first time. “c-can i come in?”

you nodded and entered the house, waiting for chris to join you. he already knew the way to the kitchen and quietly followed you there. “i haven’t cooked since it’s just me” you said, noticing how his blue eyes scanned the empty table.

“oh” chris was caught off guard. “y-you don’t have to” he said. you raised an eyebrow and placed both of your hands on your hips, a classic mom pose. “i just like your food, that’s all” he looked away as you chuckled.

“oh, baby!” you said, opening your arms to give him a warm, tender hug. “fuck, don’t call me that” chris mumbled under his breath as you approached him. you clicked your tongue in disapproval, silently calling him out. you were the older one and he needed to show some respect.

that’s when you noticed it. you just glanced at him and said a few pet names, and there he was. hard, in front of you. you walked towards him in slow steps, the sound of your heels clacking on the floor. you placed you hand on his tummy and gradually lowered yourself to his boner, gently palming it.

“chris, what’s this?” you say as if you’re surprised. “you’re a naughty, naught boy” chris lets out a loud whimper, throwing his head back as he feels your hand around him for the first time.

“i just— ‘m s-sorry” he tried to speak when you finally got a proper grip of his cock, stroking him over his sweaters.

“are you?” you teased, getting inside his pants. you wrapped your knuckles around chris’s dick and place a kiss on his neck. you could feel his shaft covered in pre-cum, his cock twitching around your fist. “hm? what is it baby?”

“mommy” he let out without even thinking. his eyes were closed and his forehead was glued to your shoulder, his pathetic moans filling the quiet house. “‘m gonna cum!”

“is that why you came here, chris? you wanted mommy to take care of you?” you cooed, biting the exposed skin of his neck. with one last stroke, chris came all over your fingers.

the thick, sticky liquid covered your hand and dripped down his legs, staining his grey sweatpants. you brought your hand to your lips, licking all of his release. chris whimpered as he watched the scene, feeling his cock getting hard again.

poor little chris. he just needed mommy to make him feel good.

[leilakisakabiri]

Jealousy, Jealousy (Gavi)

Summary: You realize that Gavi never gets jealous when other guys are around you and it makes you question if he still likes you. 

Warning(s): None

A/N: Hey! I had some inspiration to write so here I am! I’m trying to release shorter fics while I work on my longer ones. Requests are open!

Word Count: 2.5k+

Masterlist

The first time it happened, you felt relieved that Gavi had decided not to make a scene and instead chose to calmly defuse the situation.

The two of you had been at a club late one night, the high from Barcelona winning hours before pumping through your veins. He had his arms wrapped around you as you both danced to whatever Spanish song the DJ was mixing.

You laughed as he spun you around before pulling you closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he moved a strand of hair out of your face. 

"I'm going to grab another drink. Want to come?"

His breath was hot against your ear, and even though it felt like a million degrees in the club, and you were sweating through your dress, you still shivered, his voice sending shockwaves through your system no matter how many times you heard it.

You looked up, locking eyes, "I'm good, I'll save our spot."

He kissed the top of your head before letting go, "Ok I'll be back in a second. Try and find the others if you can."

You gave him an awkward thumbs up as he walked away and he chuckled before disappearing into the crowd.

The two of you had been dating for just shy of three weeks.

You had been friends for months before dating, with you initially being introduced to him through his hometown friends. Then there was a three-month period where you both liked each other but were too scared to admit it and ruin the friendship. Finally, Gavi caved after spending two weeks away from you without contact while he playing in the U.S.

Since he admitted his feelings for you that night on the steps of your shitty college house, he had jumped straight into the relationship, inviting you to his games, to hang out with his friends, and private dinners. You on the other hand still felt like an awkward pre-teen girl every time you were with him, he just made you feel giddy inside, and you reacted to things he said so intensely that the only way to cover it up was with strange humor and stupid jokes.

That led you to now. Sometimes being around him was so overwhelming because you were always scared you would say something to embarrass yourself, and although he never made you feel any less worthy you couldn't help but feel like he could be with someone much better than you.

As you stood there contemplating, you felt a body collide with yours, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts.

You stumbled, feeling hands come up to grip your elbows, stabilizing you.

"Shit- my bad."

You looked up seeing the guy holding you sporting a white button-down and an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, those guys just pushed me. Some friends." He said referring to the group of five or so extremely drunk boys behind you.

You shook your head, "No worries, I wasn't paying attention either."

He smiled, leaning a bit closer, hands still on your elbows, "Hey do I know you? You look really familiar.”

You squinted your eyes as you gazed at him, trying to figure out if you knew him.

"Eh I go to Universitat de Barcelona if that helps."

His eyes lit up at your words, and he nodded, "Yeah, that's totally how I know you. I think you're in my biology class."

You groaned, "No way the one at 8 a.m.?", he nodded, "I'm barely awake for that lecture." you muttered.

"Mean either but it's hard not to notice you."

You only heard half his sentence and looked at him confused, "Sorry what?"

His lips tugged up in a smile as he bent down, shifting closer to you, "I said it's hard not to notice you."

You felt your breath stop as you realized what you had gotten yourself into. You made a move to shy away when you heard Gavi call your name.

You lifted your head seeing him approaching as he carried your drink, "Hey who's this?"

You went to interject and tell him it was no one but the guy next to you interrupted, "Hey man, I got to school with her.”

Gavi nodded, accepting his answer as he handed you your drink, "Oh class friend?"

You went to speak but were again cut off by the guy next to you, who had still to let go of your elbow.

"Something like that."

You saw Gavi's posture slightly straighten at his words but he relaxed a second later, "Alright."

The guy turned to you saying something about seeing you in class and then proceeded to give you a hug, his arms wrapping around your lower back.

You noticed Gavi watching the exchange but he made no comment.

You approached him timidly, unsure of if he was going to say anything about the situation, but he paid it no mind, going back to casual conversation with you.

At the time you let out a breath, thankful that he seemed intent on letting you handle your own situation.

That thankfulness soon turned to annoyance and then confusion when similar situations happened time and time again and he made no effort to speak up.

You supposed it was good he never got jealous because you knew it could get very overbearing very fast, and yet, you couldn't help the twinge of defeat you felt every time someone tried to make a move on you and he did nothing to stop them or even show a ounce of emotion.

Slowly it was making you start to question your relationship with Gavi.

Why did he not get jealous? Was it because he didn't see others as a threat? Or didn't feel the need to because you weren't as pretty as the other girls he was seen with? Maybe he simply didn't care? Or perhaps he wasn't the type?

You knew the last one couldn't possibly be true because he was absolutely the type. His entire career was based on his passion, determination, and aggression to get where he wanted. His aggression is what made him so competitive and a loyal player. So if he was so driven and passionate on the field, why was that not carrying over into your relationship?

It wasn't until almost two months later that things came to a boiling point.

It was the last game of the pre-season for Barcelona and spirits were high, everyone hoping they could seal off a great season, and enter a new one, with a win.

The stadium was filled to the brim with fans and reporters. The family section was also full with player's partners and families coming to support them in the final game of the summer.

You were sitting next to Anna, the two of you talking about school, work, and life.

Eventually, the game started and you went into full-on fan mode - cheering along when Barca made impressive plays and booing when they were tackled.

The stadium was abuzz with energy, and you basked in everyone's excitement.

You gripped Anna's hand as you saw Gavi running up the sidelines towards the other team's defense, Joao running parallel to him.

You saw him sidestep, dodging the defender, and suddenly the ball was soaring, perfectly landing at Joao's feet as he placed it into the back of the net.

The two of you jumped up, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. It seemed like Barcelona would have its victory after all.

After the game, you stayed in the family section for a while chatting with Pedri's parents as you waited for the players to make a re-emerge.

You bid goodbye to them when you got a text from Gavi telling you to come down.

You made your way down to the field, waiting behind the barricades for him to appear.

The other team's players appeared first, signing fans t-shirts and taking photos.

"Need something signed?"

You saw a player from the other team approach you, waving a sharpie in his hand.

You pointed at your jersey playfully, "No thanks. I'm a Barca girl if you couldn't tell."

He grinned, "Ahh c'mon what will it take for me to convince you?"

You shrugged your shoulders, "Ride or die sorry."

He clutched his hand to his heart in mock offense, "Ouch. I'm hurt, but I'm not giving up."

You gave him a smile, remaining polite, as you looked over his shoulder for Gavi.

"Oh I know!" he exclaimed, directing your attention back to him.

He wiggled his eyebrows before taking off his shirt, "Here, new jersey for you."

He held it out to you, and you gave him an unimpressed look.

He rolled his eyes playfully, "Alright fine. I'll sign it, but only cause you asked so nicely."

You watched amused as he signed the jersey before offering it to you.

You squinted your eyes at him.

He dangled the jersey in his hands, "C'mon take it. You know a lot of people would pay good money for this."

You reached out to grab it, "Fine, but only because I'm going to sell it later."

He held up his hands in surrender, "It's yours now. Do whatever."

You thought the conversation would end there but he made no effort to leave, "Who are you here with anyway? Someone in Barca?"

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off.

"Me."

You whipped your head to see that Gavi had silently approached the two of you.

Besides yourself, you felt a tiny part of you waiting with bated breath for him to do something, to finally dig his boots in the ground and say something, but he remained impassive.

"Hey."

"Hey, you ready to go?" Gavi asked.

You nodded your head, unsure of how to leave the situation.

"I can lift you over the barricade if you need." The other player spoke up, and your eyes immediately flitted over to Gavi's to gauge his reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed but he didn't say anything.

You debated for a second, just to get Gavi to react, but quickly decided against it, opting to just walk around the barricade.

You approached the two of them quickly and with a hasty goodbye followed Gavi as he left the pitch. You heard the other player shout a 'see you around', and you waved in response.

You broke the silence first as you walked the empty tunnel, "Great game baby. You did amazing."

"Thanks."

His reply was clipped.

He went to hold your hand and you shifted the jersey last second to your other hand, catching his attention.

"What's that?"

"Oh, that guy gave me his jersey. I'm going to sell it." You explained, telling him how you were expecting to make hundreds.

He listened along till you finished.

"Can I see the jersey?"

You nodded handing it to him.

You swung your joint hands as you walked, talking to him about the game as he examined the jersey.

Abruptly he dropped your hand, mouth set in a firm line.

Your eyebrows stitched together, "What's wrong?"

He cleared his throat before handing you the jersey.

"I think there's something for you on it."

"I forgot something in the locker room, I'll be right back." He continued.

You looked down confused, eyes scanning the text before it clicked.

The jersey had the player's phone number on it.

You lifted your head seeing him already walking away, "Gavi wait. Can you stop for a minute?"

He turned around but continued moving, "Yeah what?"

"Stop moving!” You exclaimed, your frustration building as he continued to not express any interest in the situation.

He finally halted and you closed the distance between the two of you.

"Is there something wrong with me? Do you not like me anymore or something?"

He seemed taken aback by your words and several emotions flitted across his face, "What are you talking about?"

You took a breath, it was now or never.

"I'm not trying to sound conceited, but I'm pretty sure that guy was hitting on me-"

"He was." Gavi confirmed.

You continued, "So then why don't you care? I'm your girlfriend, so why aren't you getting jealous when other guys hit on me?"

"You want me to get jealous?" He asked incredulously.

"I mean I don't want you to become super overprotective or anything, but it would be nice if you at least acknowledged when someone is trying to get with me right in front of you. I know I would get jealous if someone was saying that to you."

"You don't think I get jealous?" His voice had a hard edge to it, and suddenly you felt like you might have read between the lines wrong.

You shrugged your shoulders, unsure, "I mean you don't show it."

"Of course I'm going to notice when some guy is eye fucking my girl one foot away from me, I'm not fucking blind."

"Then why don't you say anything?" You pressed.

“Shit y/n that's cause I don't want to scare you away!"

His admission only confused you further, and you lowered your voice acutely aware that your shouts were probably carrying far in the quiet tunnel,

"Scare me away? Why would that scare me?"

He shook his head, "The press is always making me out to be this bad guy. This kid that doesn't know how to get his temper in check and - mierda y/n - I don't want to get into this right now."

You relented, unwilling to give in, biting the bullet, "Alright so next time someone asks to lift me up, their just being friendly right? Trying to be helpful?"

His eyes blazed, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

You lifted your hands in frustration, "No Gavi actually I don't know that. You act like you don't even care."

"I care! Trust me y/n I care!" He argued.

"Then show me."

His lips were on yours before you had even finished processing what you were saying. His skin felt hot against yours as his fingers sank into your hipbone, crowding you against the wall.

You lost your train of thought as you got lost in the sensation he provided you. One hand went to tangle in his hair, as the other draped around his neck bringing him impossibly closer.

One of his hands slipped under your shirt, as he kissed you senseless. You finally pulled away for a breath but he didn't stop, moving to lay a trail of kisses from the sweet spot behind your ear, down your neck, and onto your collarbone.

You left out a soft moan underneath him, the feeling causing tingles in your spine, and a fluttery feeling in your stomach.

"We should really sto- fuck gavi - so-someone could walk in any moment." You reminded him.

"Just gotta leave a mark." He replied.

You nodded before his words caught up to you and you pushed him off, "What? No marks! I have to meet your parents tonight." You whined.

He grinned, not looking the least bit apologetic, "At least people will know you're mine now."

[devilmademewriteit]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman (Let Me Hold You Like A Baby)

part 3 of Dark But Just A Game

pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you’re in his place. you’re in his bed. will joel ever be anything more than your dad’s friend who occasionally fucks his frustrations into you, or will you always be strangers?

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [m receiving] fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mentions of reader having long hair; pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel); dubcon (power imbalance); age gap; dbf!joel; angst; mentions of murder and torture.

beta reader: @millllenniawrites loml forever

word count: 4.1k

no use of y/n in this fic

Click here to read part 1, Dark but Just a Game. 

Click here to read part 2, Pretty When You Cry. 

(neither are totally necessary if u just wanna read some filth, fluff, n angst, all u rly need to know is that they’ve fucked twice before & he’s dad’s best friend lol).

a/n: thank u for all the support on this series. i’m literally so obsessed with all of you it’s not even funny. enjoy this while we collectively grieve the end of the season, & i’ll be here writing fic in the meantime. Don’t forget to join the taglist for any and all upcoming work! -em <333333

—

It had taken all of ten seconds for you to lose your shirt, your jeans, and your most beloved pair of (now ruined) panties after stepping foot in Joel Miller’s apartment.

“‘Fuckin’ soaked already—been thinkin’ about me all day, huh?”

And those tantalizing fingers. They were third on the list of things you thought about when you touched yourself, right after his cock and the insatiable look that haunted his eyes when he was inside you. Joel’s talents were wasted as a smuggler—he’d have made a fantastic pianist or maybe a guitarist with the way that index and that damned thumb conspired to make you sing for him.

“Anyone else touch you here since me?“ “No, Joel—just you—only you.” “Attagirl.”

He’d gotten you fully naked (something he’d never bothered to do before) and writhing in his grip in a matter of seconds, laying rough kisses down your spine with patience and attention. Every single one was a spoken promise: I’m coming back for you.

“Look at you, baby, takin’ a real man all by yourself.”

Hands on your hips, knees pressed to the worn-in mattress—every other word in the English language omitted itself from your vocabulary as Joel drew his name from your lips over and over and over again, the thick length of his cock easing you to oblivion with every gratifying stroke.

“Gonna make this pussy come til’ you’re begging me to stop, sweetheart.”

Feeling his cum drip down your thigh, barely having a second to breathe before being manhandled onto your back, hands searching your body, mapping you out like a foreign land before taking him in again. “It aches, Joel.” Crying softly into his neck, tears of pain and ecstasy leaking down your cheeks. “M’jus’ breakin’ you in, angel.” The smell of his hair anchoring your senses to right here, right now as release washes over you again and again and oh, Joel’s hands on the outsides of your thighs to steady your shaking legs.

“Eyes up baby, wanna see ‘em while I’m comin’ on that pretty face.”

Joel tasted like salt and sin and his stickiness on your cheeks felt warm like a late august sun. Watching you blink your lust-filled and trust-filled eyes, grabbing a fistful of your tangled hair, Joel memorized the way your pouting mouth looked painted with his seed. Thick, dark eyebrows creasing together as a groaned ‘fuckin’ hell’ fell from his open lips—with you, he became an artist, and with him, you were a blank canvas.

Now, the moonlit room was quiet; with every primal need purged from both your systems, your exhausted bodies lay entangled, empty and content. Joel’s heartbeat had settled a few minutes after yours—you’d made note of it with your ear pressed to his chest. But every twitch or fidget from the hand resting on the curve of your waist had your own rhythm picking up double-time, sending hot blood coursing through every now-aching limb.

“You should go,” he grumbles after a while, eyes still closed, body still at rest. Fucking you had basically rendered the man comatose. “Your dad’ll raise hell if he sees an empty bed.”

You scoff. “It’s not like he’s ever cared before—remember when Emma and I snuck out to the old mall and I radio’ed him to get us out?” Joel chuckles, remembering the fond memory. After all, it had been him and not your old man who’d shown up to kick down those crumbling cinema doors, partly rescuing you but mostly reaming you out for being such a careless, stupid teenager.

“And either way, Miller, I’m an adult.”

This time, it’s Joel’s turn to scoff. “Jus’ ‘cause you’re legal, dun’ make you an ‘adult.’ You still whine like a kid.”

You giggle softly as he mocks your indignant tone, feeling the lungs beneath you rumble subtly, too.

Joel was always softest and at his most vulnerable after sex. Well, aren’t all men the same? You figured it was just the nature of the act that left its participants a little more tender and a little less inhibited after its completion. It was strange to remember that Joel was a man like any other.

And the man that you’d allowed to ruin you so skillfully, to burn himself on the archives of your mind, somehow remained a complete mystery to you. He was a tangled web of stifled emotions, unspoken sentences, and chilling stories you’d heard from your inebriated father.

If there was any time to untangle him, it was now.

Joel’s t-shirt is damp with his sweat, and yours, too. What a shame that he hadn’t removed it earlier. He was so very impatient when it came to fucking you, and despite having enough patience this time to get you naked, he didn’t bother to give himself that same treatment. At this point, you felt too self-conscious to ask, pretty well certain that he’d turn down your request, anyways. Peeling your profile from the navy blue fabric, you gaze up at him inquisitively, a steadying hand pressed tentatively against his broad chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

Your voice sounds small, like that of a scared child. It makes you cringe.

“Hmph,” he grunts, eyes firmly closed.

Better than nothing. A start.

“Well,” you begin, painfully slowly, tracing timid circles under his collarbone, “Sometimes, I think—”

“S’great, sweetheart,” he interjects in mock earnestness. “Good for you.”

“Knock it off, Miller,” you slap his shoulder playfully. A sly, amused expression teases his features.

After a long, heavy pause, with only the trickling and creaking of the old building occupying it, you soldier on.

“Sometimes, I think that when you’re… well, fucking me… you, well, you kind of use me to—vent.” There. You’d said it. “Like, your frustrations.”

A long exhalation escapes Joel’s lips as he mulls over your words, choosing eventually to respond with cautious and dismissive humor.

“This your way of askin’ me if you’re more’n my human Xanax?”

“No, asshole.”

He hums quietly. The distant sound of a gunshot travels through the open window, dragging you both back to the present moment.

A forced sigh. “I wanted to ask you what you’re trying to get off your mind.”

Joel tenses almost imperceptibly underneath you, an air of seriousness collecting around him.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grumbles, amusement fading from his tone. “M’not really interested in talkin’ about our feelings together.”

The harshness of his words only entices you to push him again, to understand the man who so clearly understood you. There was something there–likely many things there–that he had fucked into you. Things that you now need to know. Things calling to you like an abandoned childhood home.  

You want to pull him into yourself, crawl under his very skin and exist there for a minute or two. In his bed, in his place, and you’re still worlds apart.

“I’m not asking you to talk about your feelings, Miller. I just want to know that I’m not letting, like, a total, raging maniac climb between my knees.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. His eyes flit open, and as soon as they do, you recognize the vacant, apathetic expression that had characterized him for you all these years. He grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows, and you sit up, yanking at the tangled sheets to cover yourself.

“Ever been outside the QZ, sweetheart?” He asks, his poorly restrained temper slicing through his words.

Looking down at your hands, you trace the cream-colored creases stretching along the blanket, shaking your head no, side to side.

“S’right. Not a single man on this planet that’s not a total, raging maniac. Enough fear, thirst, or hunger…” something truly terrifying creeps onto his expression, a vision of darkness, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Not with soldiers, not with your father, not even with Joel.

“Everyone’s a killer.”

You swallow slowly, trailing your eyes up to meet his charged gaze. The room feels cold.

“Are you?”

His shadowed eyes narrow with irritation. “Am I what, sweetheart?”

“A killer.”

Then it’s regret and violence corrupting his features, and before you know it, Joel Miller is somewhere else. It takes a long time for him to come back to you (if you can even pretend to claim that Joel had ever been with you in the first place).

He hesitates, huffing quickly with frustration and looking away for a brief moment before focussing back on you—conceding to your question with a quick nod.

An acidic taste collects on your tongue, but his answer isn’t surprising. You’d always known in some way that Joel had taken lives. Still, it felt strange to hear him acknowledging it, to see the pain that admitting to it caused him. His actions actually bothered him. That meant he had a soul in some jagged, twisted form and that certain things could affect it. Thinking about that made your temples hurt.

“For what reason?”

You can’t help it—you’d come this far, and it felt like failure to quit prying. It doesn’t matter that Joel’s a grenade with no safety lever. You know it’s only a matter of time before he explodes, but you’d grown up diffusing your father daily. Bombs were your specialty.

“Does it matter?”

Upstairs, the floorboards creak softly. It almost makes you jump.

“I think so.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, brow furrowing with irritation. Otherwise, he stays surprisingly level. Some hopeful part of you tries to whisper that some softer part of him actually wants you to get under his skin.

“Alright.” You stare at him, stunned at his forfeiture, as he breathes a dark, humorless laugh. “But you’re gonna hate me for my answer.”

There’s a loaded pause as you gape expectantly at him. His head falls back, eyes fixed to the chipping, washed-out ceiling.

“In the early days of the outbreak, before FEDRA had the QZs figured out… things weren’t easy. You gotta understand that.” His gravelly voice cuts through the room’s silence, vibrating through your stilled body. “I’ve killed, tortured, n’hurt more people’n I can count. Sometimes to save myself, sometimes someone else, ‘n other times… other times jus’ because. And,” he groans, laying his back against the pillows as his harrowing monologue comes to a close, “It wasn’t always life or death, either.”

You pull the sheets in close to your chest, shuddering partly due to his words, partly due to his delivery. As if he was warning you. As if he wanted you to hear the truth and…

And punish him for it.

With his eyes shutting again, he can’t see you studying him. He’s probably assumed that a look of abject horror has poisoned your complexion. As you angle yourself to view his resting body—the pained expression causing his eyebrows to furrow, lips pressed tightly together—an overwhelming rush of adoration expands in your lungs, swelling inexplicably and uncontrollably in your chest. Your thoughts blare at full blast inside your racing mind.

Joel was capable; he had blood lust and an inner violence that meant he felt, deeply, and he’d die—or even better, kill—for those he loved. He was…

Joel was perfect.

Maybe it was a fucked up thing to feel—maybe it meant that you needed to be studied by a team of psychiatrists. Either way, the thought of his agonized soul, carrying on out of sheer spite and a reluctant desire to protect his own had you melting at his side. Joel wasn’t static, unfeeling, or a ghost, he was real, and he was alive. Growing up in a near-dead world haunted by once vibrant cities had made that trait alone extremely precious.

He remains still while you move his arm, wiggling next to him to sit back on your calves and looming over his unyielding form. Maybe he thinks you’ve pulled a gun on him and is just giving you a chance to pull the trigger.

Dropping the pale sheet from your breasts, you caress Joel’s harsh jaw in one hand, sneaking the other down, down his stomach and under the waistband of his briefs.

His eyes surge open, finding yours and filling with confusion. You burn with affection, a kind of fierceness that wasn’t there before.

Brow creasing, eyelids fluttering as he hardens in your grasp. You wordlessly entice him once again, bowing down and over to press tender kisses to his neck.

“I could never hate you, Joel Miller.”

He whimpers softly as you stroke him—tantalizingly slow in big, long pulls—it makes your heart flutter to hear him whine for you. 

A refreshing reversal of roles.

You ease your way down, trailing your lips down his scarred side and over to his front, exploring the strip of grey hair marking the center of his abdomen.

Joel watches you, longing on his lips, but the uncertainty still lingers. You need him to listen.

“I’d kill and torture if it meant survival—” you arrive at his hard length, pumping it in your hand right next to your softened features.

“And I would kill and torture for you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you part your lips around the tip of his cock, drinking in his fascination as you take him in slowly, wholly. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses the back of your throat. 

Once again, you’re filled with Joel. 

A soft hiss, and then his face becomes a symphony of pleasure, disbelief, and, finally, hunger. His large hand caresses the back of your head, capable fingers tangling softly in your hair as you glide up and down his length, tasting the salt of his pre-cum and your own acidity on his satin-smooth skin.

He only parts from your stare when you draw lazy, adoring circles around his tip, throwing his head back and grinding out a ‘Jesus Christ.’

It’s almost too much for him when you start using your hands, making it your life’s purpose to eagerly please every inch, every square millimeter of him. You drag your tongue from the base of his length all the way up to the top, silver-lined eyes boring intensely into his own.

“Shoulda let you do this sooner,” he breathes, gently pushing your head down until your nose brushes against those dark, curly hairs. “Look so fuckin’ pretty with a mouth full of cock.”

There he is.

You pull off him, strings of saliva trailing down from your lips to the glistening tip of his length. “You wanna come on my tongue?”

In a haze, perfectly slowly, Joel throws his head back with a low growl. You stroke him affectionately, spit and his own salt collecting between your fingers as you wait patiently for his reply.

Then he pushes himself up to a sitting position, wrapping his rough hands around your upper arms and easing you up off his length. “Not this time, baby.” You’re straddling him, taking in the unfamiliar care spoiling his tone and softening his hard features when he leans forward, locking you in place like a missing puzzle piece he’d spent his whole damn life searching for. His cock rests between your bodies, pressing exquisitely against your abdomen.

“Only got one more in me, sweetheart. M’not plannin’ on wastin’ it.”

He lifts his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks between them like some kind of priceless, fascinating object. It all feels so paradoxical: innocent despite the filthiness of his words, gentle despite the forest fires blazing in his gaze. Searching your eyes, he runs the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. 

And he kisses you.

It’s not bruising at first—it’s a soft, curious question, an experiment. The grey-flecked hair of his mustache brushes the crescent of your Cupid’s bow, and the feeling almost brings you to tears. So you lean into it, deepening the kiss with hard pressure, searching for the answer on his tongue. That’s when his hands tangle in your hair, and his lips steal the oxygen right out from your lungs as he reciprocates fiercely.

It’s like watching a prisoner take his first steps out into the sun after being held in isolation for a decade. You wonder if it had been that long for Joel.

Without breaking away, you trail a hand down the fabric of his t-shirt. Then, you’re grabbing it from the bottom and hitching it up his abdomen. He pulls away just a half-inch to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, his own marked with apprehension.

“I want all of you,” you plead breathlessly, sliding off his starved lips.

Joel ducks his head, staring at the meeting place between your fingers and his cotton.

“If…” he tries, words clumsy, voice gruff. A bit of bashful humour underscores his tone, too. “F’I let that happen, you’ll see that I’m really jus’ an old man, angel.” You begin to protest, having come prepared with another I-like-them-old-and-decrepit speech, but he cuts you off, anticipating your reaction. “Jus’ been a long time since I looked fit enough for somethin’ like you.”

It’s almost too ridiculous. Joel Miller, worried about how you’ll receive his appearance after you’d deep-throated him for admitting to Geneva-convention levels of violent crime.

This time, it's your turn to cup his face, cradling him reverently between your hands with passionate devotion.

“You and me might be different on the outside,” you begin, surprising yourself with the conviction dripping from your own tone. “But deep down? I’m just as rotten as you.”

His mouth breaks into a genuine smile, and he chuckles, creases lining the corners of his eyes as if carved there by God’s own hand. Nodding with concession, he shrugs his shirt off; you reach out to help him to pull it off entirely.

Scars, definition, and tan skin stretch with every shaky breath he takes. Fuck. The tips of your fingers explore him, honoured by the feel of likely being the first in ages to claim this spot, and that one, and this one here, too–Joel’s turned you into a conquistador, a crusader.

“You’re so, so handsome, Joel.”

It’s not enough to see him, wholly exposed, flesh-blood-skin-scars-and-muscle. Nothing’s ever made you feel so safe and so warm; Joel is a worn-out, hand-me-down jacket that you can’t seem to part with; he’s candles during a thunderstorm, a thick blanket begging you to wrap yourself in it. You want him on you, against you, inside you.

So you take the man, and you kiss him—ardently.

His breathing hitches when you grasp his length, and it stops completely when you slide it between your slick folds, pulling every inch of him inside yourself appreciatively. You swallow his groan as he inhales your gasp.

Your hips move together in tandem. Rocking against his thighs as his hands anchor into your hair, or on your breasts, your ass, your waist—Joel holds you as close to himself as physically possible, threatening to crush you between his arms, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip with a starving kind of need.

Old habits die hard. Joel gets swept up in the way you start struggling to kiss him back, the involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your helpless fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. Sliding his hands under your ass, he holds your hips steady. Then, he’s spreading you open to receive him more readily, dictating the rhythm, the angle, and the brutality of how he fucks you.

Ruining you to completion was quickly becoming an addiction.

He smiles against your mouth when you give him a muffled “mmm,” releasing your lips to watch, a captivated audience, as your eyebrows knit together, relishing the sound of your lungs filling with short, pleading gasps.

“Gonna be bruised inside n’ out, baby.” Joel’s promise barely registers over the clap of his skin against yours and your own wanton moans. A thoroughly cock-drunken expression and the worship of his name on your tongue win you some hard-earned praise.

“Taken me so many times tonight—been such a good lil’ toy.”

Your lips slide down the stubble and the rough skin of his cheek, limp body giving out with every punishing snap of his hips. Still, you attempt speech, stammering out a “Joel, I-I want—” that’s mostly unintelligible.

“I know, baby,” he coos, words muffled by your hair, hot breath fanning out over the valley of your neck. “S’hard to use your words when you’re jus’ so full, huh?”

After finding the strength to straighten up and face him, your mouth moves from its permanent ‘ah’ shape to string together a pleading, desperate sentence. Joel doesn’t make it easy for you, picking up the intensity of his strokes, dragging you to the edge of bliss.

“I wanna—I want you to show me how to ride you—to take you—please—let me make you come.”

He laughs softly into your shoulder: the sight and the sound of a woman begging to do the work was a kind of rarity (albeit an appreciated one, at his age) in his experience. Acquiescing, he lowers you back onto his broad thighs, slowing his rhythm, and giving you a chance to catch your shallow, uneven breath.

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

Like a true cocky bastard, Joel leans back against the mess of strewn pillows, casually tucking his hands behind his head and leaving you to steady yourself on top of him, velvet walls still fluttering and squeezing adoringly around him.

You hold yourself up with your palms pressed flat against his chest. Rock slowly and carefully against his hips, observe the sight of your fingernails pressing into his unyielding chest. A whimper tumbles from your sore, parted lips as Joel’s tip nudges your inner-most sensitive spot.

“Eyes on me.”

Hardened hands reach out to circle your waist. “You look at me when you’re riding,” he instructs.

“Show me how grateful you are for this cock.”

His voice is strict and firm but gentle all the same. Joel relaxes underneath you. It feels good—so good—to watch your body undoing his own; it feels even better when he flexes involuntarily inside you, stretching open your sore, aching, and somehow still needy cunt. Locked into his lustful, dominant gaze, you speed up, throwing your hips back to grind enthusiastically against him. He watches first your eyes and then your breasts, palming them, teasing your hardened nipples roughly.

“You wanna touch yourself?”

Low and gravelly and filthy, his question looms over your body, only adding to the soft thud drumming inside the eager bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

He makes you realize that you really, really do.

You nod eagerly at him; Joel gives you a knowing expression of sympathy.

He never could help his condescension at watching you crumble so easily from so little.

“Show me, angel.”

So you do–Joel holds you steady as your hand falls to your clit, drawing clumsy circles over that one aching spot. Your fingers are frustratingly unskilled compared to his, but at this level of arousal, you’ll do anything to ease that mounting pressure. You focus hard, multitasking through your euphoria.

Him watching as you pleasure yourself excites you. Squeezing him harder, riding him with newfound passion—Joel groans as his long-awaited orgasm builds between his thighs, watching you bounce up and down his tense, throbbing length. His darkening eyes beckon you to keep going, to tip him over the edge.

You want to fall into them when he comes inside you.  

He knocks your hand away, replacing your index and middle fingers with a broad, calloused, impatient thumb against your grateful bud. “Ohmygod–Joel–” and the rush worsens, his fingers acting as catalysts for the all-too-familiar sensations spreading across your core.

“With me, baby,” his voice is gruff, restrained by need, want, lust. “Lemme feel you comin’ when I fill you up–s’it, good fuckin’ girl–”

Tears collect on your lashes, and a sob heaves from your throat. You reach your climax for him, the ache from your clit spreading to overtake every inch of your body. Joel comes too. He tucks your head into the soft, damp skin of his neck and fists the hair at the back of your head. Your legs ache with absence the moment he pulls his fingers away from your core. Still, his only instinct as his seed spills between your walls is to pull you into himself as tightly as possible, to intertwine himself wholly and eternally with your young, devoted soul.

He doesn’t let you move after it’s over. One arm circles your waist, the other snakes up your back; it feels like standing at the base of the pearly gates of heaven. When his laborious exhales brush the top of your spine, it’s those damn angels sighing.

And it feels like he’s here. It feels like you’ve landed somewhere together, no longer strangers but something else. Something new. Something stronger. Sweeter. And worlds more dangerous.

Joel Miller running his thumb up and down the plunge of your neck. Joel Miller cursing himself for allowing you to take a hammer and chisel to the walls he’d spent painstaking years putting up, eternities before you were even born.

Joel Miller realizing that he can’t find it in himself to let you leave.

“For the record, sweetheart—I’d torture n’ kill for you, too.”

You have no trouble believing him, smiling softly against his shoulder.

—

TAGLIST: @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @daydreamerblues @spacelatinos4life @totallynotastanacc @honeycovered-bandaids @daddy-din @cedricbitch @tiredbuthappy @sweetpea99 @ghostfanwriter @daixylie @witchy-jadda @ninebluehearts @jbcalway @jasminedragoon @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett

—

Tumblr on mobile loves to destroy my fics by screwing with the last few hundred words SO here are the lyrics to Let Me Love You Like a Woman by Lana Del Rey lmao <3

I come from a small town, how about you? I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want you to come Eighty miles North or South will do I don't care where as long as you're with me And I'm with you and you let me

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in poems and songs Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me hold you like a baby

I come from a small town far away I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want (need) you to come I guess I could manage if you stay It's just if you do I can't see myself having any fun, so

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity

We could get lost in the purple rain Talk about the good old days We could get high on some pink champagne Baby, let me count the waves

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman

—

[buddierecs]

post season 7 buddie fics

in honour of season 8 coming out in a few days, here is a list of mature rated fics that have been released over the hiatus set post season 7. make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

stay here honey (i don't wanna share) by: prettybegins "amidst his son leaving for texas, a sexuality crisis in his 30s, and the possibility of losing his best friend, eddie can’t seem to catch a break." word count: 14k important tags: idiots in love, jealous!eddie diaz, coming out, getting together, minor buck/tommy, miscommunication, meddling, angst, love confessions, first kiss all these broken parts by: woodchoc_magnum "post-season 7, where eddie is struggling with depression, trying to put his life back together, and hopelessly in love with his best friend." word count: 56k important tags: TW: depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, angst, roommates, pining!eddie diaz, oblivious!evan buckley, evan buckley take care of eddie diaz, minor buck/tommy, getting together, eventual smut eddie diaz vs the buck's boyfriend agenda by: songbvrd "eddie starts gathering information about why no one trusts tommy. as he grows to hate their relationship more, he learns more about himself and what he wants." word count: 23k important tags: pre-relationship, jealous!eddie diaz, tommy kinard bashing, pining, gay!eddie diaz, team as family, therapy world war e(ddie's moustache) by: songbvrd "eddie is a little unhinged since christopher left. when buck gets yelled at for having facial hair, eddie makes a spectacle out of his own." word count: 19k important tags: unhinged!eddie diaz, jealous!eddie diaz, pre-relationship, tommy kinard bashing, mutual pining, emotional cheating, team as family thoughts and dreams that scatter, you pull them all together by: trageddie "chimney has a dream about eddie with a mustache. shenanigans ensue." word count: 11k important tags: mutual pining, jealous!evan buckley, minor buck/tommy, eddie diaz & chimney han friendship, getting together, food kink the christopher diaz reddit takeover by: dylaesthetics "christopher takes out his frustrations with buck and eddie on reddit." word count: 7.5k important tags: social media, christopher diaz is a national treasure, getting together, feelings realisation, tommy kinard bashing, chris never left la like a bird stealing bread out from under your nose by: daisies_and_briars "eddie diaz breakdown, season 7 finale fix it fic" word count: 21k important tags: eddie diaz needs therapy, angst, character study, getting together, hurt eventual comfort, buddie divorce 2.0 i'm holding on (barely) by: cranberrymoons "eddie and buck take christopher home to california; helena and ramon decide to follow" word count: 12k important tags: parenthood, complicated relationships, therapy, coming out, reconciliation, family dynamics, internalised homophobia, self-acceptance, gay!eddie diaz loves a game, wanna play? by: 42hrb "in the aftermath of chris leaving for the summer, buck convinces eddie they should apply for love island together." word count: 57k important tags: reality tv au, love island au, idiots in love, social media, getting together, flirting, making out, pining

i choose you and me, religiously by: instantcaramel "buck has a boyfriend but he can't stop thinking about his best friend." word count: 4.3k important tags: infidelity, texting, buck/tommy break up

[starryficsfinishwen]

── .✦ doomsday game ; xiangli yao x reader

if the world was ending, would you love me for the hell of it? syn. if, theoretically, the world were to end today, what would you do? if you ask xiangli yao, he wouldn't mind spending the last days on earth with you.

*inspired by 4* zayne card with the same name (love and deepspace)

a.n. - oh god he corrupts me I love him. HAPPY RELEASE DAY XIANGLI YAO!!! As an honor for getting his weap, for now being guaranteed (my S1 Xiangli Yao is glacio and short??), I GIVE THIS FIC AS MY THANK YOU. ALSOHAHSHSHSHS I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THE WRONG FIC IM SORRY BUT HERE IT IS

pairing - xiangli yao x f!rover

words - will edit when I switch to lappy

content warnings - none!! major fluff!! also pre-established relationship

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Potent rumors often plant seeds of disbelief.

It often came as a small white lie, an utterance between two consenting parties. When it reaches the leeching tongue of the birds, they fall to the ground, sprouting things that are weeds to the truth. If left alone, they would deter nature's course.

For example, the rumors somewhat turned into some prophecy— “the world is ending soon”.

How does it end? They say it's a global snowstorm. Maybe another global flood. A supernova collision. No, they definitely said it was an onslaught of active volcanoes erupting to create a flood of lava. Or maybe, some Sentinel wished for immense havoc, with its god-like power awakening to slaughter everything in its path.

However, for scientists like Xiangli Yao, all those claims seem comical.

“The world is ending soon?” A fellow scientist slaps his own knee, “That's complete bull!”

In the middle of the long table of the Academy, what was once a flickering 3D map of Jinzhou was temporarily dimmed; instead, a couple of scientists had gathered, playing cards for their breaktime.

“I know, right? It's too funny; they really think the world is ending so soon.”

One of them throws the card, a chorus of laughter.

“My findings say otherwise,” said a cocky researcher, “The fluctuations isn't very severe. We can live to see another millennia here in our world!”

“The plants and people are still alive and well.” The glimmer of a card catches everyone else's attention, “Very far from the truth indeed.”

One scientist lets out an indignant huff, “But how did they even reach that conclusion? Do they have the data?”

The group pauses for a bit. Some bit their lip, another shuffled their cards, and the other couldn't help but sigh. “Um, proof or not, I think they are still sprouting nonsense.” Muttered the first scientist.

Another eerie silence envelops them. Until one of them throws a card at the center. “The tacet marks have been spreading nonstop...”

They throw another. “TD's are also unstable, giving a major interference to the once-natural resonance cords.”

And when he throws the last trump card, almost all of the players had a grim look on their face. “We are merely just a few months recovering from the Retroact Rain. Our soldiers cannot handle another catastrophe!!”

With a trembling shout from the scientist, everyone else near the group stopped on their tracks. Noticing that the attention was on him, the poor scientist slides back to his chair, embarrassed. Even the ones he was playing with had a gloomy face.

“...Not to diminish our pride but...who knows...what happens to Jinzhou...not to mention our Sentinel and Magistrate...”

“That's understandable. The evidences speak for themselves.”

All eyes are on the man who spoke after a long while. Between the dim lights of the Academy's hall and his slow steps, his versicolored eyes glimmers brightly than ever.

“I understand your concerns, Ray,” Xiangli Yao reaches out to pat the forlorn scientist by his shoulder, “We are merely at the recovery stage for Jinzhou, yet our nation has been going through too many things already.”

Amethyst eyes wander among the resonance cords on the screen. They catch a familiar face of a person, one that made his own heart skip a beat.

“However, Jinzhou still stands until today. We cannot say the exact date for the end of the world—it could be today, tomorrow, or another millennium—but as long as we are still here to see the flowers blooming or the children laughing, then why should we stop today?”

A roar of cheers erupts throughout the hall. The lamenting scientist sniffles in joy. Yet the Principal Investigator couldn't look away from the certain figure of a girl.

“But if the world were to end soon,” muttered a nearby scientist, causing Xiangli Yao to glance at him, “Hmm...I wonder where I'll go.”

Without a clear future in mind, and you, the Rover, who only woke up just now—the thought is scary. If, indeed, the world was ending soon, then what happens next? What happens to you?

The cats have been meowing nonstop.

As if sensing the air, they were pawing at your ankles, as if trying to catch your attention. One, two, three- maybe even five- cats trying to catch your attention.

Picking the white one, who was the one visibly stressed, you coo her as you scratched the back of her ear.

“What's wrong, hm?” You playfully kissed the cat's cheek, “Was the food not enough for you? If I overfeed you, Mr. Investigator will have to put you on another diet.”

Somehow understanding you, the cat gently pushes you off of their face with their paws, meowing.

“Hey, I'm telling the truth! As much as it hurts my poor heart, I can't feed you again today...”

“...I suppose you can allow them,” pipped a familiar voice, “They do look awfully thin.”

Nearly spilling the cat off of your arms, you squeak as you turn to meet a smiling Xiangli Yao. “M-Mr. Investigator?!”

“It's the first time you've addressed me by my title, Ms. Rover,” He teases, opting to carry the black cat on your feet, “I suppose our relationship is back to being professional?”

“The cats seem to know you more like that,” you emphasized, “Mr. Principal Investigator.”

He laughs—a tender laugh, it makes your heart squeeze—that it makes you pout. “I suppose that is right. Consider it a working place, then.”

Xiangli Yao stands next to you, holding out the black cat as it meows. With a funny thought, you ask, “Did you even know why they approached you in the first place?”

“Is it because I feed them?”

“No,” You playfully stuck out your tongue at him, “They say it's because it's to ward off bad spirits.”

Xiangli Yao goes silent, before looking at the cat, then back to you. “Hmm. I suppose I should stay away from you?”

Ultimately backfired. The joke goes back to you. With a dramatic gasp, you shrug. “Seeing as the cats was the one who approached me today, I think it's you who should go away for now.”

Freely laughing onto the summer air, the cats' meows intertwine with the yours. It's like any other workday— Xiangli Yao leaves mid-afternoon from work to meet and feed the cats, walking elsewhere until he's comfortable enough to go and finish his work.

It's only been a few weeks since a new addition to his itinerary: you. Now, every afternoon, the cats would find themselves carried by the warm sunlight; and you, taking care of them before him, drenched in sunset glow.

Like now, Xiangli Yao notes. But the thoughts were far too tempting. He takes a dive in them.

“So, Mr. Investigator,” you asked as you found yourselves by the stalls, nudging him softly, “where to next?”

The cats slowly left as soon as your walks stretched farther than usual. You were too nice to disturb Xiangli Yao, when he was far too absorbed in his thoughts.

“...Ah,” He purses his lips, slowly stopping in his steps, “I'm sorry, Rover. I hadn't realized we've gone this far.”

The streets decorated with the loud and bursting stalls sound in the background. Yet in the midst of it all, Xiangli Yao is silent as ever, his robotic hand over his lips, eyebrows furrowed. You think it's cute, from the curve of his pout, but you quickly shake it off.

“No worries at all. But you look like you have a lot on your mind, maybe you want to share them?”

Xiangli Yao looks at you. Behind you, the sun in Jinzhou has never set—bathing you in its reverberating halo, casting an ethereal glow. With his heart skipping a beat, he looks away with a sigh.

“...[Y/N],” every syllable of your name sounds too foreign for him, yet too holy, “Would you...like to come and stay with me for now?”

“Of course,” You smile, “Where do you want to go, Xiangli?”

His face remains serious as he speaks. “My house.”

“...I'm sorry?”

Going to Xiangli Yao's house was something you've never expected.

Sure, you often get invitations to visit your friends' houses once in a while. But it seems different when someone like Xiangli Yao asks you to go home with me.

Wait. With a mental slap, you scold yourself. Why do you feel different when it's with Xiangli Yao? Was there something about him? Watching unfocused amethyst eyes seems to make you worry. You were definitely not feeling something, right?

Unless?

“Is there anything else you'd like?” Xiangli Yao pops up from his kitchen, carrying a plate full of snacks in one arm and drinks in another, “I'm sorry, these are some of the food I could make.”

“It's okay, I'm more than happy to already taste what you make!” You said as you rush to help him.

But as you are about to take the plates, you couldn't help but gasp.

“Oh, does my hand scare you?”

Instead of the usual robotic hand you've grown accustomed to, it had morphed into a larger metal plate, to fit the two plates.

“No!” You shake your head with a laugh, “It's just the first time I've seen it like this. Does it change back?”

By the time the plates are on the table, Xiangli Yao twists his robotic hand (plate?), popping it out of the socket. “It does. Let me get it.”

“Do you...” Watching him scurry, you pick up a chip from the plate, “...need a hand?”

A resounding clang! echoes back to you. It takes a while before he returns to the room, rolling his hand as he grins. “I believe it's back in its proper place.”

Still the same stupid jokes that make you cackle. Eventually, you both settle down. The afternoon telenovela plays on the TV. Finally settled to sit on the ground instead of the chair, you end up picking the savory chips, munching as you devotedly watch the scenes in front of you. You don't even bat an eye even as you feel Xiangli Yao sits next to you. Silence. But a good kind.

How long have you known Xiangli Yao again? Whatever you both do, you're still content with each other's company. From the corner of your eye, you notice his gaze firmly on the TV, empty hands hair's breadth away.

“The Moonlit Fair,” you said slowly after a comfortable silence, “now that it's over, are you back to your usual work?”

He hums. “Depends how you define "usual work".”

“Metalwork and other groundbreaking discoveries.”

You bring your knees close to your face, resting your head so you could comfortably turn to see Xiangli Yao's face. Chromatic colors paint the neutral look on his face. Yet when he turns, a pretty smile replaces it.

“The field of science is only a curiosity away,” he pipes, mimicking your pose, “That's always something I've been doing, even before the start of the Moonlit Fair.”

This goody-two-shoes prodigy has always been the talk of the town. Even in Huaxu Academy, even from Mortefi's mouth, he is long lauded as someone who easily creates breakthroughs.

“I'm jealous.” You admit, sighing, “You can easily create new things.”

“That's not true.”

“Ah, I guess I can say with pride that I often help people, too.”

“However you may say it, it doesn't erase the fact that you are doing so much more than you think.” He said, “You're the mysterious Rover. You have lost memories related to this city. And from what I've heard, you hold so much history.”

He reaches out, human hand hesitating to touch your face. With a fleeting downcast gaze, he ends up booping your cheek. It makes you flinch from surprise.

“...I should be the one jealous of you, if that's the case, [Y/N].” His smile causes his eyes to close, a genuine look on his face, “You've done many incredible things that are worthy rather than simple praises.”

Did Xiangli Yao ever look this pretty before? Soft skin and amethyst irises through fluttering lashes. You wish you could brush away the hair that covers his eyes. Carefree, kissable lips. Wait—you cough, looking awau to hide the blush tinting your cheeks.

“Please, stop flattering me. I might end up bursting a hole in your roof.”

“I'll be sure to let Xiang-LEE and Patty fix that.”

A ticklish giggle escapes your lips as you turn back to see him. “Please leave my kids alone, you have overworked them during the festival.”

“...Please don't worry,” he shrugs, chuckling, “They'll be granted a paid vacation anyways.”

Seeing as the telenovela has lost its charm, and the poor food in front of you could go to waste, and maybe not wanting to end the fun yet, you decide to test your waters.

“Xiangli,” you said, noticing how he perked his head at the mention of his name, “I want to play a game.”

“An electronic one again?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Truth or Dare.”

Xiangli Yao laughs. “Oh, I didn't know you were into childish games like that.”

“I'm curious about you, and I'm sure you feel the same way.” You point out, “What's a better way than to play a game?”

“You could have asked and I wouldn't mind answering, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sit up straight, grinning, “Truth or Dare?”

Xiangli Yao mirrors you. “Already?”

“Pick already, or I might change my mind.”

“Hmm...Dare.”

Suppose your afternoon would be so different. A few chugs of the drinks, greedy hoarding of chips, spent markers, and random doodles later, you find yourself dressed in one of his lab coats with a clip of some of his IDs, and him in the flashiest shirt. The laughter has long strained your lips but it still ends up being the sweetest you've ever tasted. Apart from that, the glow in Xiangli Yao's face is also different, one that makes your heart skip faster.

“You've what?”

Xiangli Yao laughs a little too loudly. “A mini mouse that would greet anyone who opens the door. Mortefi was the first victim, because I didn't know he was deathly afraid of mice.”

The mental image of Mortefi from Xiangli Yao's prank comes abruptly that it causes you to match the latter's laughter—hollering until your back finds the sofa, slapping the carpet.

“Oh my God,” you wheeze, “It's not even a surprise why he hates you even more!”

Xiangli Yao wipes a tear from his eye, sparkly eyeshadow slightly staining his cheeks, “I bought him some coffee to apologize, but the joke hadn't died down for weeks.”

He finds himself sitting closely with you now, head against the sofa. With a little of your mingling laughter in the air, he couldn't help but watch as your fits of laughter continued, albeit a little softer. Through your literal rose-colored lenses, did you see the world like that, too?

“It's my turn now, right?” You ask, your shoulders an aftershock from your laughter.

“Mm,” he nods, “Have you run out already?”

“No, never!”

“Alright, since I've been picking dares for a while. I'll go with truth.”

“Have you ever heard of the rumors?” You begin, laughter dying down, as you take a bite from the chip. “That the world is "ending soon"?”

Xiangli Yao freezes. So you've heard. It's no surprise as it already made a turmoil between the scientists in Huaxu Academy. Yet the dread somehow comes creeping back to him.

“If, theoretically, the world were to end today,” you slowly speak, carefully choosing the words, “In a few hours or so. What would you do?”

What would he do? A tricky question. But a calid one at that. “The end of the world wouldn't happen so abruptly.”

“Mm, yeah, but I am curious about your answer.”

What would Xiangli Yao do? And somehow, the dimming living room feels so small, the only light source was a forgotten TV color palette. When he looks at you, your doe eyes sparkle in the darkness. The closeness of your bodies, the fleeting smell of spring on your shoulder, with a hint of him.

“Well...” He slides down to the floor, patting the space beside him, “I'll let you know if you lay here with me.”

“Are you sure there are no pranks here?”

“I'm honest.”

You eventually follow his words, so you could meet the level of his eyes. Watching the glow of his inspiration-filled eyes, they somehow make you smile.

“I heard all about it when my colleagues were playing a game during break time.” Xiangli Yao begins, “Some claim it's not true, but there have been others who believe it's so soon.”

“What do you think?”

He looks away, opting to stare at the ceiling above. You follow his sight, unaware of what was next.

“I don't know.” He says truthfully, robotic hand pointing upward, “With everything that has happened, no one else can predict it.”

“Even a knowledgeable scientist like you?”

He glances at you. “Even a knowledgeable scientist like me.”

He looks back to where his hand points. Casting a power, a small purple cube dances in his robotic hand, knowing that you were watching so intently.

“But if the world were to end today, then I wouldn't mind spending the day with the cats I feed.”

The cube glows brightly, floating so freely in his hand. A flash of scenes play through its squares, too fast to see, yet too slow to be noticed.

“I wouldn't mind having the TV on, sitting on the floor with snacks all over, even though there's a perfectly good sofa.”

He hears your small laugh, which makes him smile. The cube falls to his chest, where it travels all the way to you.

“I wouldn't mind spending the last hours playing Truth or Dare, with someone who's extraordinary.”

This time, Xiangli Yao looks at you. Wide-eyed and speechless, from the way the cube touches your outstretched hand, watching the faint glow of the halo on your own body. If the world were to end, he wouldn't get tired of watching this view; watching the rise and fall of your chest as you stare in awe, calloused hands tenderly watching over his own work of art, knowing that there'll never be another you if the world were to end.

Knowing that he's long been blessed to exist in the world where you are in it.

“I think I wouldn't mind spending the last hours on Solaris-3 with you, [Y/N].”

The cube pops, a sprinkle of glitter all over your body. Glancing, your heart throbs loudly in your chest, as you heard his confession.

How did this happen again? You were merely friends with the scientist. After the successful Moonlit Fair, you often find yourself bumping into him, simple errands and impromptu hang outs when you do. Watching Xiangli Yao in his humble abode, the telenovela a white noise, and the shade of colors lighting his face—have you ever seen him more than a friend?

“Xiangli Yao,” you breathe, which made him freeze, “you...”

He smiles. “I'm not rushing to know your answer. I am merely stating the facts.”

A good friend. But now you figured out why that rubs you off the wrong way. You have always known the answer to your feelings.

“[Y/N],” Even the way Xiangli Yao speaks your name, a softer one, where in the world they called you "Rover", he calls you differently.

“[Y/N],” Reaching out, his human hand finds a strand of your hair, gently pulling it to his lips. “[Y/N],”

Xiangli Yao calls your name, one that makes you throb.

“If, theoretically,” he repeats the question you asked before, “the world does end today, what will you do?”

In a world where your memories are lost in the ripples of time and reverberation. You had the same answer.

“...I wouldn't mind spending it with a certain scientist.” You smile, watching him mirror yours, “I wouldn't mind spending it with you, Xiangli Yao.”

“[Y/N]...”

“Xiangli,” you reach out to cup his cheek, to which he closes his eyes to snuggle to the warmth, “Xiangli, you're like the cats.”

“Then will you ever mind if I could hold on to you?”

Weary arms find themselves asking for yours. And like you, touch-starved for his own touch, lean onto him, the smell of spring and that you could forget the world.

“...I would,” you said, and you do mean it, “I'll hold onto you, Xiangli.”

Oh god pls let me have him irl too

don't forget to like, comment, share, and reblog!!

— starry

[skywalkerslvt]

the way you write sub ani please please please i need him so bad

a/n: thank you so much for the request! sub ani is literally everything to me 😩 here's a short fic i've been working on, hope you enjoy! <3

CW: 18+ smut, sub!anakin, orgasm delay/denial, some p in v, some cock warming, voyeurism (sorta?), pillow humping, 1.4k words

Anakin was in big trouble. It wasn't his fault, really. It had been two weeks. Two excruciatingly long weeks since you started this little game. This game where you'd wake Anakin up with your warm, wet mouth around his cock, Anakin’s hips rutting up into your mouth as he moaned hazily. And you'd keep sucking, occasionally moaning around his cock as he tugged on your hair. Every single time, without fail, you'd pull off right as he was about to cum, leaving Anakin needy and unfulfilled.

Then you'd get up, getting ready for work, and you'd leave a kiss on Anakin’s cheek, sliding a hand up his thigh while you whispered in his ear. "You can't touch yourself while I'm gone, and you definitely can't cum."

Anakin knew better than to disobey you, at least up until now. He'd spend the day aching and frustrated, unable to do anything to relieve the pressure building inside him. Every time he even thought about touching himself, your stern voice echoed in his mind, and he pulled his hands away with a frustrated groan, tears often spilling down his cheeks.

He thought that maybe when the weekend rolled around, you'd finish this game you'd started and finally fuck him, letting him cum deep inside of your warm cunt. He almost got what he wanted when you approached him at his desk, taking off your pants and slipping your panties to the side as you situated yourself on his cock. But when you just sat there, unmoving and clenching around him, telling him to continue what he was doing as if you weren't there, Anakin knew you weren't going to let him cum anytime soon.

By the following Friday, Anakin had enough. His cock was sensitive, twitching and leaking pre-cum as he straddled his pillow. You'd be home soon, so Anakin knew he had to be quick. Not that that would be an issue–with the amount of edging he'd endured in the past two weeks, Anakin knew he wouldn't last long.

He began grinding into the pillow, staining the white fabric with his precum. His movements were frantic, desperate, as he bit down on his lip to stifle the moans that threatened to spill out. He couldn't help the way his hips bucked wildly, seeking the release he had been denied for what felt like an eternity. The friction of the pillow against his aching cock was almost too much, but not enough to stop him. He needed this. He needed to cum.

Anakin's breaths came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need. His eyes fluttered shut, imagining the feeling of your tight, warm cunt enveloping him, squeezing him just right. He pictured your smirk, the way you'd tease him, your hands gripping his hair, controlling his pleasure.

Just as he felt the familiar tightening in his lower abdomen, the telltale sign that he was about to tip over the edge, the door creaked open. His eyes snapped open, and there you were, standing in the doorway with an amused yet stern expression. He froze, guilt and panic flooding his senses as he realized he had been caught.

"What do you think you're doing, Anakin?" Your voice was low, dangerous, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

"I... I couldn't help it," he stammered, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I just... I needed to..."

You crossed the room in a few strides, your eyes never leaving his. You reached down, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look up at you. "I told you not to cum without my permission," you said, your voice laced with a mix of disappointment and arousal. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

He shook his head, swallowing hard.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I just... I couldn't take it anymore."

You sighed, your grip on his chin tightening slightly. "You know what happens to bad boys who disobey," you murmured, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Get up."

Anakin obeyed immediately, scrambling off the bed and standing before you, his cock still painfully hard and leaking. You pushed him back onto the bed, straddling his waist and pinning his hands above his head.

"Since you couldn't follow my rules, I guess l'll just have to make sure you learn your lesson," you said, your voice dripping with authority. You reached down, positioning his cock at your entrance, but you didn't lower yourself onto him. Instead, you hovered just above, letting him feel your heat without giving him the satisfaction of entering you.

Anakin whimpered, his hips bucking up in a futile attempt to bury himself inside you. You smirked, pressing down just enough to tease him before pulling away again.

"You'll cum when I say you can, and not a moment before," you commanded, your eyes locking onto his. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," he gasped, his voice breaking. "Yes, I understand."

You finally lowered yourself onto him, enveloping his cock in your wet, tight heat. He let out a strangled moan, his hands clenching into fists as he fought the urge to thrust up into you. You set a slow, torturous pace, your movements deliberate and controlled, making sure to keep him on the edge without letting him tip over.

"Remember," you whispered, leaning down to press your lips against his ear. "You don't cum until I say so."

Anakin nodded frantically, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to hold back. The feeling of you around him, the way you moved, the way you commanded his pleasure, it was all too much. But he would obey, no matter how badly he needed to cum.

He would wait for your permission, just like the good boy you wanted him to be.

Suddenly, you pulled off him completely, and Anakin let out a desperate, needy whine. You moved off the bed and positioned yourself in a chair directly in front of him. He watched, wide-eyed, as you slowly stripped off your clothes, exposing your perfect body to him.

"Since you couldn't follow my rules," you said, spreading your legs and running a hand down your body, "you don't get to touch me or yourself. You just get to watch."

Anakin's eyes widened in shock and arousal as you began to pleasure yourself, your fingers sliding between your folds, rubbing circles on your clit.

He could see how wet you were, how your fingers glistened with your arousal, and it drove him insane with lust.

He bit his lip hard, his hands clenching into fists above his head as he fought the urge to touch himself. Every moan that escaped your lips, every movement of your fingers, sent jolts of pleasure and frustration through his body. He wanted so badly to reach out, to touch you, to feel you, but he knew better than to disobey you again.

You maintained eye contact with him the entire time, your gaze heavy with authority and desire. "This is what you get for being a bad boy," you murmured, your voice breathy as you continued to pleasure yourself. "Maybe next time, you'll follow my rules."

Anakin could only watch, helpless and desperate, as you brought yourself closer and closer to the edge. His cock twitched and leaked with every moan, every sigh, every movement of your fingers. He was so close to breaking, so close to giving in, but he knew he had to obey. He couldn't disobey you again.

Finally, with a loud, breathy moan, you came, your body trembling with pleasure as your fingers worked you through your orgasm. Anakin watched, transfixed, his own body aching with need and desperation.

As you came down from your high, you looked over at him, a satisfied smile on your lips. "Now," you said, your voice dripping with satisfaction, "I hope you've learned your lesson."

Anakin nodded frantically, his eyes pleading. "Yes, I have," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Please, I need you."

You got up and walked over to him, your eyes softening just a bit as you looked down at him. "Good," you murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Now be a good boy and wait for my permission."

And with that, you left him there, his body trembling with need and desire, knowing that he would do anything to earn your approval and finally be allowed to cum.

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Weekend

It’s been a while since I’ve made progress on any of my fics, but I’m trying my best to write something for Kate’s Roll-A-Trope Challenge, so I finally have something I can share a snippet of 🥳

Over the last 14 weeks, I’ve been tagged in 19 WIP Wednesday posts / Last Line games / WIP polls (yes, I keep track!), so thank you to the following lovely people for continuing to think of me even though I’ve been suspiciously quiet 💚:

@burntheedges @nerdieforpedro @604to647 @the-mandawhor1an

@kyberblade @almostfoxglove @for-a-longlongtime @djarins-wife

May I offer you some (totally unedited and marginally redacted) pre-spice Din and f!Reader in the trope genre of secret relationship below the cut…

Swallowing, you blink innocently and ask, “Is there anything else you need before I turn in?” You’re not particularly tired, but you should let him get some rest. Slowly, the angle of Mando’s helmet drops a few centimetres, and he releases a vibrant hum. The few seconds of silence that follow feel charged somehow, full of expectation, and just as you realise where he’s relocated his gaze to, he rumbles a reply in the lowest, sexiest register you’ve heard from him this evening. “So far, you’ve known exactly what I’ve needed without me having to ask.” He pauses again as he slowly tilts his helmet, the silence loaded with promise. “So you tell me. What do I need now?” Your eyes inadvertently dart to his crotch again and… shit. You’re pretty sure something’s happening down there. It looks… harder… larger (if that’s even possible). “You, uh….” Your attempt at an answer goes nowhere since you don’t know what to say. You want this, sure, but you shouldn’t. He’s injured, and you promised your uncle you’d keep your distance, not jump into an intimate act with the guy the first chance you get. After a few deep and shuddering breaths, you manage, “You need a good night’s sleep.” “I do,” he agrees. “But your question was whether I need anything else before you go to bed. Sleep comes after you go. What comes before?” Fuck. His words vibrate through you and disintegrate your misgivings. There’s no logical decision to answer in the way that you do; it just happens. “You… if you want.” A pleased hum resonates through the vocoder. “I do,” he agrees again. “The bacta took away the pain, but if you’re offering some pleasure too….” “Y-yes,” you blurt, halfway between eager and anxious. “But… my uncle will kill me if he finds out.” Mando chuckles. “He’d shoot me first. Our secret, then?” Your pussy dampens at the idea, eyes flashing as you nod your acceptance of his clandestine terms. Suddenly, a secret liaison with the apparently dangerous man you’re supposed to be avoiding for your own good sounds like the most desirable thing in the galaxy.

Yeah, you know me… I can’t just write a single scene; I have to write the whole damn relationship!

So, obviously, this is how their secret relationship gets off the ground. You may have gathered that Reader is a certain High Magistrate’s niece and has been given strict instructions to avoid the new resident of the cabin out on the lava flats. You can look forward to plenty of sneaking around, flimsy excuses, near misses, and suspicious confrontations. Oh, and smut 😏

I can’t believe I only have a month left to write all this. What have I signed up for? I’m so fucked…

*Hates self for not being able to write short stories* /jk

I’m clearly over-excited about finally having something for a WIP post, so I’m going wild and tagging a load of writer mutuals and favourites. Feel free to do any form of WIP post you choose, or ignore me entirely if you’re not up for posting snippets right now (either way, you’re all awesome) 💚

@5oh5 @abbonation @always-andromeda @captainredspade @court-jobi

@davnittbraes @din-cognito @dindjarindiaries @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter

@dumfanting @eatommo @evolnoomym @fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven

@fuckyeahdindjarin @galaxyedging @grogusmum @happy-beeeps @iamsherlocked-1998

@insomniamamma @ishabull @itsjuststardust @joelalorian @jolapeno

@lady-bess @lahooozaherr @larkoneironaut @littlemisspascal @magpiepills

@morallyinept @mothandpidgeon @newpathwrites @oonajaeadira @penvisions

@prolix-yuy @quicksilvermad @saradika @secretelephanttattoo @sixhours

@sp00kymulderr @studioghibelli @syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom

@wannab-urs @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams @wrathkitty @yopossum

[novarunestone]

Veilguard Masterlist

(Imagine) Being Loved By Me (Chapter 1 of 2)

Days after things came to head at Villa Dellamorte, Lucanis has his revenge, he is First Talon. But there is one thing he's missing, one last bit of business to conclude. And for that, he needs Taliesin.

An Echo, A Forethought, A Prayer (pre-release fics of Taliesin x Lucanis as listed below):

Please bear in mind that the fics in this series were written and posted pre-release. So certain things may have unfolded differently or be out of character once the game released in full. I was too excited and impatient to resist posting about Taliesin.

Coffee Beans and the Heat of Desire (one-shot/complete)

Lucanis takes a healing Taliesin to Treviso to stretch her legs. Coffee is shared and so are confessions.

It Stems from Love (one-shot/complete)

Taliesin and Spite have very different ideas on what's best for Lucanis. And Lucanis doesn't want Taliesin anywhere near Spite.

The Birds and the Bees (one-shot/complete)

The rest of the Veilguard knows that Taliesin and Lucanis are hiding something and decide to make a wager. Taliesin does her best to distract Lucanis.

Driven to Distraction (one-shot/complete)

A series of snapshots from Lucanis' POV as he gets to know Taliesin and sort out some emotions he isn't familiar with once he joins the Veilguard.

Canvas of a Lover (one-shot/complete)

Taliesin and Lucanis share a moment and reflect on the meaning of scars. Even the ones that can't be seen.

Precious Cargo (one-shot/complete)

Taliesin welcomes a new member of the Veilguard. Lucanis notices she has an endearing habit.

[freaksnvans]

A 30-year-old Christian Fujoshi With a PhD's Thoughts on Team Fortress 2 Shipping.

Here I will be providing my thoughts and opinions on my personal favorite Team Fortress 2 ships. I do not know who will be interested in my speakings, but I am branching out into this beautiful fandom like a great oak tree. Haters can "suck an egg," and I do hope that saying is not an euphemism for anything of the less appropriate variety! Please be ready for a very long and verbose post.

How Did I, freaksnvans, Become Interested in Such a Thing?

An Introduction to Me.

I am indeed a Christian woman, and I self-identify as a Fujoshi. That may seem contradicting, but it is not. I ship the mercenaries from Team Fortress 2 in a good and god-honoring way, and I will not tolerate any negative speak of the Lord in my comments and/or reblogs. As for myself, you may only know me as freaksnvans. I chose that name because My favorite ship, as you may be able to discern from such a screen name, is Trucks n' Vans. The "Freak" part comes from a childhood nickname I was given in elementary school... the Freak. That is very traumatic to me, so I mustn't delve into the details. Moving on.

Where It All Started.

In 2007, I was vaguely interested in the game, having heard whispers of it from sites like YouTube as well as my male classmates. I was Thirteen years old, therefore in middle school. Team Fortress was, without a doubt, popular with middle school aged boys at the time of its release. Being curious as to what the "hype" (am I using this Gen Z slang correctly?) was, I googled Team Fortress 2. I had no, and will still never have any, interest in first-person shooter games. I do not like to kill things. I am a god-honoring woman. However, seeing the image of seven strong and mysterious men, (I am indeed disregarding the Scout, as he is not strong nor is he a man, he is a weak and pathetic boy.) I was indeed intrigued.

I, before then, had minor experiences with fandom spaces, having been interested in Harry Potter at the time. I read fan-fiction occasionally. However, I felt no interest toward fan-fiction and pairings of the homosexual variety. My favorite ship to read fan-fiction of was Dramione. I imagined myself as Hermione. My readings of fan-fiction were in fact very self-serving. I became gradually interested in Team Fortress 2 when the fandom was in its infancy. (If you are wondering as to how I never interacted with the fandom before now, or used "social media," that is because I was not allowed to at such an age, and had a fear of doing so up until adulthood. Please do not shame me.)

Back to the topic of Team Fortress! I began searching for fan art of my favorite characters - which, then, were Medic and Soldier. I longed for the Soldier to hold me in his strong arms. I secretly desired for Medic to perform cruel and unusual acts of surgery upon my body. That is a common sentiment shared upon fans of Medic now, I have found. I thought I was alone!

Anyways... At some point, I began to discover Team Fortress fan-fiction. I was extremely intrigued by my discoveries. I, being a pre-fangirl with no real interest in shipping between the mercenaries yet, read "x reader" fan-fiction. However, the extreme abundance of slash fiction made stories of the homosexual variety completely and utterly unavoidable. I naively decided to read just one story of such a kind. I do believe it was a HeavyMedic fic. It was like a fujosplosion inside my mind. I quickly became hooked on reading M/M Team Fortress fan-fiction, scouring sites such as FFN to find more.

That does seem to be how I became interested in gay pairings in Team Fortress 2.

Ok, then what are your favorites? Stop rambling, woman.

Why would you say that to me? Anyways, over the years, I have been particularly drawn to three different pairings.

the first would of course be Trucks n' Vans.

It may be obvious that is my favorite. Actually, I think I already mentioned that it is, ha ha! Anyways. Trucks n' Vans has captivated me ever since I was a young girl. First of all, Sniper is skinny and mildly pathetic, while Engineer is a beautiful fit man. He is also Southern, which I am too. I became interested in this pairing because I imagined Engineer teaching Sniper the ways of God and life in the South. He would show Sniper the beauty and joy of a good old peach cobbler. Which he clearly needs, because I do have a burning hatred for Australians. Sniper is an exception. Anyways.

I have also found great interest in HeavyMedic.

Of course I have. I was interested in this fandom from the day it was created, you silly goose, of course I love HeavyMedic. They were meant to be. Please don't tell God that I said this but I wish I was between them as they kissed. I am short enough for that, being a meager five-foot-one, and generally petite. Well, um, sorry to cut that short, but I am having an extremely bad nosebleed at the moment. Because I thought too hard about HeavyMedic with me sandwiched int he middle. I may as well complete typing this post up, because it's not that bad, but I may make typos here and there. There is blood on my keyboard. Oh Dear. LOL!

My Other Thoughts.

I do believe that Team Fortress shipping is what made me more tolerant of people leading a homosexual lifestyle. When I see gay people in the streets I no longer recoil in disgust as my parents taught me, but I remember that they are people too. Just like Team Fortress 2 in real life. I did meet lots of gay people in college, when I was learning and working toward my PhD in philosophy. Most of the men there did not interest me, because they looked too much like Scout and not enough like a handsome Soldier.

As detailed in my previous post, there are many people who hold disdain for fangirls, or generally people who ship and read fan-fiction. I did experience some of this in college and high school. In middle school, I was very secretive about my fan-fiction and fandom activities. I didn't even have any online friends. The only people I knew who had any interest in Team Fortress 2 were boys at school, who thought I was a freak of nature for being interested in gay scenarios between the mercenaries. I once had lemonade thrown on my brand-new white pants because I was caught reading a HeavyMedic fan-fiction in class. I wanted to die. Please, Lord, excuse my language...FUCK you, Jared. I have violent fantasies regarding him sometimes. As a result of that, I was called gay pee-girl for the rest of the year. I had to move schools because nobody called me by my name, and I was only known as the gay pee-girl. It was definitely worse than "freak."

That may be it from me today. There's so much blood. I think it is not just a normal nosebleed. Oh goodness

[ancient-fog]

I am The Rings of Power's biggest hater

My somewhat controversial opinion is that I absolutely despise Rings of power. Now, I know that a lot of people argue that it is bringing more people to Tolkien's works, but is it really? To me, it feels like nostalgia bait for pre-existing fans. I'll admit, I took the bait too. I saw that they had released a show that was about LotR and I got excited, but the more I watched it the more I realized how un-Tolkien it is. And for taking his name, I would expect that they would keep some sort of semblance to the fantasy that he imbued into his world.

Besides being un-Tolkien, it has a great many other flaws as well.

It's terribly unimaginative

It wants to be Game of Thrones SO bad

its predictable

The characters are terribly mis-characterized

Despite trying to be diverse, it almost did the opposite?

It neglects, or even completely retells existing stories for the sake of their own narratives.

It feels like poorly written Fanfiction (no hate to fanfiction, I literally write lotr fics)

it was made by Amazon

Tolkien would have hated Amazon

Amazon why did you do this to me

Please Amazon stop retconning my favorite franchise

Actually, Please, Amazon just stop.

You literally put a billion dollars into this, when you could have stopped global warming

Where tf is Celeborn??

(I'll probably drop more RoP hate posts eventually)

[thgcommentfeast]

THG Comment Feast-October Round

Hello All!

Thank you so much for your input on the poll about whether or not an October feast would be on the table! The poll showed that most people would be down to have an October feast. With that said, we need to select a prompt!

Important!: This October Feast will run like the July 2024 feast. Therefore, works do not need to be newly written works. You can submit something you already published, as long as it fits in with the prompt given. Again, these fics will not be hidden from the public at any point!

The winning prompt will be announced once this poll closes and we will begin seeking already published works fitting that prompt to add to an ao3 collection (as bookmarks) AND new works to be released October 13th, 2024 at noon EST.

An AO3 collection will be released once the poll has concluded with further details!

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns feel free to shoot a message!

-E

[veronae-buddie]

Upcoming: Novelember Buddie fics

During November, I completed 5 buddie fics - one an existing work, and 4 that were started and finished during November. I will be sharing them throughout December.

Here's what you have to look forward to!

(working titles only)

Body Shots

Fluff, est. Buddie, 1.7k

Pulling Eddie’s hand to his lips, Buck dropped a kiss to each of his knuckles, then released him and reached for the bottle. But he hesitated after peeling off the foil and twisting the cork out. He gestured to the glasses. “What are these?”  Eddie gave him a quizzical look. “Tequila glasses.” Squinting, Buck said, “But we have shot glasses.” “Dios mío, no,” Eddie said, his eyes widening. “Buck, this is good stuff. It deserves to be savoured.” Slowly, Buck pouted and levelled him with sad, puppyish eyes. “But … shots?”

Baking Sheningans

Fluff (mostly), getting together, 3.4k

Eyes widening, Buck stopped moving after him. “What are you doing?” he muttered.  “Enjoying myself,” Eddie smiled. He hooked his finger into the batter again, raised it to his lips—  Buck’s hand snapped tight around his wrist. “Don’t do that.” “Buck, come on, it’s honestly delicious,” Eddie said. “No, I mean, don’t … suck on your fingers like that.”

Mirror

Flufffff, est. Buddie, 1k

“But you look so adorable when you sleep,” Eddie said, letting his head fall to the side, silently pleading for more kisses.  “Mm,” Buck hummed. “Watching me, were you? That’s a little pervy.” Eddie laughed. “It’s absolutely nothing of the sort,” he objected. Then he turned, swivelling within Buck’s grip, and pressed one palm to his stubbly cheek. Kissing him soundly, he drew back and whispered, “You dribble.”

Bringing Chris Home

Gen, getting together, 10k

Buck was restless. Kicking about, he tossed from side to side, tugging at the blankets every time he shifted. “Buck,” Eddie groaned in a raspy sleep voice. “I love you, but if you don’t stop moving I will end you.” Going rigid, Buck turned his face towards Eddie. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I thought you were asleep.” “You’re making the bed feel like a ship at sea, there is no human on earth who could sleep through that.”

Pre-Poker Date

Fluff, getting together, 2.2k

“I’m taking you out.” Frowning at his phone screen, Buck mumbled, “Uhh … okay. That seems a bit extreme.” “What are you talking about?”  “What are you talking about?” “Poker game,” Eddie said abruptly. “I know a place.”

I'm excited to be able to share some fics again! I hope you will enjoy! 💙💙💙

Taglist:

@shortsighted-owl @disasterbuck @serensational @blue-winged-boy @emotionallyencumbered

@gnoeltop @inell @verdimundi @darkrose6578 @littleblackraincloudofcourse

@deliriousbean @idealuk @oldfangirl81 @ronordmann @shealwaysreads

@queenofthesydrianites @marvelgirl9326 @graendoll @sofa-king-lame

[elliebean714]

Hide And Seek

Josh Washington x GN!Reader (Romantic or Platonic)

Everybody's playing hide and seek, but you're veryy competitive and end up somewhere you shouldn't have

Fluff, Slow Burn(?) This is kinda just game lore, then turns into an actual character x reader at the very end lol

An~ I *think* this is *loosely* inspired by a fic I read on here a few years ago, I cannot remember though, so credits to them ig, I'll tag the og if I somehow find it (if it's even real, I may have dreamt it up or something lmao). I only put this as josh x reader bc he's my fave, but honestly, this can be read without that and you wouldn't miss anything lmao. I just wanted to get this out of my skull. SOO PROUD OF THISS!! HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS OMGGG?? WRITING IS FUN?? WTFF??? Its 5:30 in the morning and i just finished writing until dawn fan fiction. How did it come to this?? good lord this man is beautiful, should be a crime to be this gorgeous. Someone tell me how to tell if my one shot is slow burn or not. I'm not very clever. Sorry the ending is so shit lol, I'm very tired and really want to share this and AAAHHHHHH release me from this tormentttttt

Pre-Game

"Okay, everybody, let's set some ground rules before we start." Chris waves his arms to make sure everyone is paying attention. "First off, obviously, nobody is allowed to go outside, okay? Let's keep it fair people. Next, since there's twelve of us and the lodge is so big, we're gonna have two seekers. Thats Josh and Beth, they'll have to wait in here for two minutes while we all hide." The pair wave "Alright, lastly, you're allowed to move as much as you want, but if you're caught you come back to the kitchen until everyone is found. Winner gets the $600." He motions to the locked box that everyone pitched in $50, then hands the key to josh to keep a hold of until the end.

"Right, yeah, we get it. C'mon nobody likes to wait." Mike snaps his fingers, growing impatient, "Lets get going." while Beth sets a two minute timer on her phone, you slowly creep towards the door with a destination already firmly implanted in your mind. A countdown from three starts, your hand twisting the handle of the door, ready to bolt as soon as you hear-

"One!" The timer starts, and by the time everybody is out the kitchen, you're already halfway down the stairs to the basement. You sprint past all the potential hiding spots, far too obvious for someone of your calibre.

The sound of the basement door opening and a two pairs of footsteps make you jump "Mike-" Emily moans into, what you assume is a kiss. You sneak behind a pile of boxes before they can see you. They might not be seekers, but your plans will NOT be foiled by MIKE AND EMILY making out. Absolutely not.

They find some distant corner to hide and do whatever, you poke your head out for a second to check they don't notice you, when you see them firmly 'distracted' you sneak off without making a sound and get past the door at the furthest point in the room, deeper into the basement, and closer to your destination.

The old hotel. Before the Washingtons built the lodge on the mountain, there was a hotel here, they leveled it before construction, but you've spoken to josh about it, apparently remnants have remained down there, completely untouched. There should definitely be somewhere to hide. This would be easier if the two people looking for you weren't the two most likely to have knowledge of the layout of the hotel, but that doesn't mean you give up.

It means you have to be smart, sneaky and fast. You don't even need to be in a great hiding spot, you just need to be the last one found, you need to win. You feel a rush of adrenaline course through you when you see a pair of rotted wooden stairs, YES! It's still here! Soon you find yourself in what probably wouldve been the kitchen, and let yourself stop for a moment to check the time, 22:49. You've been running for five minutes, Josh and Beth have been searching for three.

That thought pushes you to keep moving- past the weird, long, creepy hallways and rooms and... smells. You come to a small room with a cage encasing it, god, how deep into this place are you? This wouldn't be a bad place to stay, if there were hiding spots. You check your phone: 22:52. If you had to guess, Emily, Mike, Hannah and Chris had probably been found by now. But you can't rely on that, time to get moving.

Eventually, the rooms and corners all turn to the one long corridor, stone exterior, definitely man made. Like some tunnel...? To where?? Where would there need to be a tunnel to on the mountain? Well, might as well check it out, not like you're going to lose at this point. If Josh or Beth decide to check the old hotel, they sure as hell aren't coming down this far.

A little ways down the tunnel, you see a huge set of metal double doors, this just keeps getting weirder. Thankfully the doors are open, just enough to squeeze yourself through and continue down. You check the time once you pass the door: 23:07. Oh you've won that $600. No contest. A surge of pride and adrenaline rush through you and motivate you to continue.

Seeing a set of stone stairs is... unsettling. Where they lead to even more so. You cautiously follow them up to a weird, giant room. Dark and abandoned... is this more of the hotel? No way, right? Leaving the room, you see a chain linked door down a tiny hallway, all other directions are blocked off by old furniture, you look through the door...

It seems empty? Just a bigger room, looks semi religious, maybe an old Chapel? You gently push the door open, it's loud, but who cares? Nobody's here anyway. Looking around in amazement, this entire building, untouched by humans in who knows how long, you might be the first person to be inside this building in decades, maybe the last ever! This is all so surreal... your thoughts are interrupted by... a call? You check, Josh. You've only got one bar of service here, it's a miracle any contact was capable of being made. Might as well tease him. You're not going back to the lodge until you're found.

"Heyy-" you start, unable to contain your cheeky giggles

"JESUS, Y/N WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?? Are you okay??" He sounds so relieved to hear your voice

"Yeah, obviously... so what's up, Washin-"

"You won, okay, wherever you are, just come out. We're all freaking out trying to find you"

"Nope." You state simply.

He sighs "You won. Please. You're freaking us out, you weren't supposed to go outs-"

"I didn't." God- its so hard to keep a straight face

"What...? You're still here? We've checked everywhere! I even checked that old hotel! Where are you??"

"No hints. I want one of you to find me." You hang up before he can protest, and check the time briefly: 23:38 before putting it away to explore the building. Along the sides are areas with chain linked walls, it's too dark to discern what's inside them. Except the one with an opening, heading inside you see a map of the mountain, outdated for sure, as it has the hotel labeled instead of the lodge.

From what you can guess, this building youre in is probably the sanatorium. Makes you wonder what happened that caused it to be abandoned. And for the Washingtons to do nothing with it. At the far end of the room, another giant set of double doors, you try to push them open, but they're either locked or way too heavy.

So the other side of the Chapel is your only option. One is completely blocked off, one that leads to another building in the sanatorium is locked and one at the far right takes you to a fenced in area, a makeshift graveyard, every name has the same date under it. Must've been a massacre... that's probably why it was abandoned, jeez... okay, well, that's just a dead end, so you turn back and- why does it feel like you're not alone anymore?

"Josh?" You call out, best case scenario, it's someone from your group and you've just given up your position... worst case... you creep towards the middle of the room "guys?" No response, maybe they're trying to scare you? Would be good payback for the $50 this excursion cost them. "You got me, okay? Come ou-" a screech interupts you, it sounds like an animal in distress, or a warning... "what the fuck?" It's coming from beyond the locked chain link door.

"Hello?" You step towards the sound, the door is locked, nothing will get you, it's fine... "is anyone there?" Another screech, you reach out to investigate the lock... and a gloved hand stops you.

Shit. You feel your blood run cold. This definitely isn't one of your friends. In half a second you whip your arm away and turn to face your assailant- old guy, weird goggles, flamethrower- before he can say a word you sprint across the room, out the door, down the stairs and back into the tunnel. You don't even know if he's following you, all you can hear are your own panicked breaths and your heart thumping so loud it feels like the walls are closing in on you with every beat.

You make it back to the double doors and slam them shut behind you. You can't lock them from this side, so the best you can do is close them and hope it'll slow him. God- you forgot how much of a maze this stupid hotel was, why the hell does there need to be so many hallways and dead ends?? Wait- the kitchen!! Yes! You know exactly where to go now! Just straight up. No more corridors and empty rooms.

The adrenaline has you acting pretty clumsy, tripping over steps, banging into things and slaming through doors. Once you're up that last set of stairs from the hotel to the lodge you start to feel exhausted- no, not yet- keep going, you got this. You reach out and open the door to the main basement, scaring the shit out of Ashley in the process "RUN! Holy shit-" you don't need to tell her twice. She grabs Chris, who was staring and the two run ahead. They hold the door to the basement open for you, after you practically jump up the stairs, somebody slams it shut and locks it.

The relief hits you like a freight train and your legs finally buckle, dropping you to the floor. Everyone hounds you with questions as you pant on the floor, trying to let the cold wood cool you down. You cover your eyes with your arm for a minute.

"What the hell happened??" You hear Matt ask

"I saw- shit- I saw somebody-" You pant- well at least I won't have to work out for the rest of the year. That sends everyone into a panic. More questions are thrown your way, the guys are discussing a plan of defense should it be necessary.

"What the fuck- who??" Jess' question is the one you hear.

"I dunno, some weird old guy- had a pair of goofy goggles and a fuckin' flamethrower." You take in several deep breaths and give Hannah a grateful smile when she hands you a water bottle.

"Where the hell did you go?" Josh gets close to you "where was he??"

You gulp down half the water before answering "I think I was in the sanatorium? I saw a map, I guessed that..." you trail off, everyone's stares making you suddenly self conscious "what?"

"Why the hell were you in the sanatorium?? That's dangerous Y/N!" Josh's concern comes out as a yell, in that way that someone only does when they really care.

"There's a tunnel from that old hotel beneath us to it, I was curious and I wanted to win." You shrug, god- this would be hilarious if it wasn't for that fucking insane person you met.

"There's a tunnel to the sanatorium?" Mike asks for confirmation.

"Yeah. And I won since I never technically went outside, by the way." You remind them. Sure this was a terrifying situation, but fuck it if you were loosing your reward.

"Shut up! Oh my god! There's a crazy guy up here, oh my goddd!" Ashley lashes out, you'd be offended if you hadn't scared her half to death a minute ago.

"Sorry." You mumble, drinking more water- fuck, have you ever sweat this much?

"Was he chasing you? Like, what happened?" Sam asks, always clear headed.

"I don't know, I just got there, Josh called me, I hung up, explored for a bit, heard some sort of animal, and he came up beside be before could see what it was. I just booked it, I didn't hear him I was too freaked." You answer truthfully

Josh takes your hand, seeing him serious is uncomfortable. "You should've come back when I called you."

"I wanted to win, I didn't think I'd see a fucking lunatic-" you attempt to defend your reasoning. was it sound? No. Did it work? Yeah.

"I told you you won." He asserted. He had one of those intense stares. One of the ones you feel a mile away. One that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

"I know... I just- I dunno... I wanted to explore. A whole building abandoned and lost to time? I couldn't help it. I was gonna come back after like an hour." You shake your head and sigh "I got excited. I'm sorry I worried you. I wasn't thinking, you know how I get, I'm really sorry"

He sighs. "Just don't do it again"

🦋❄️🦋❄️

🦋Butterfly Effect~ Too Soon...?🦋

❄️The Group Decided To Play Hide And Seek❄️

🦋Y/N Went To The Old Hotel And Found A Secret Tunnel🦋

❄️Y/N Refused To Return To The Lodge❄️

🦋So They Could Explore The Sanatorium 🦋

❄️Y/N Attempted To Investigate The Sound...❄️

🦋And Met The Stranger🦋

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

~ Elliebean714 🦋

[olderthannetfic]

I used to think books with "bestseller" labels must be great and that they're the books I should try reading but now that people are getting popular through social media first before their books even release made me think otherwise. People seem to be buying the book like it's celebrity merch. The books could still be good but I now read multiple reviews especially negative ones which has lists of what they think is not good about the books. When I see "bestseller" now I just think "A lot of people bought this." but also ask "Did they like it though?".

Question though: you think "bestseller" label in published books is equivalent to kudos or hits on fics? I mean there's a filter to see items listed that way and there are people who base their fic reading list to it.

--

*snickering*

Okay, the thing you have to understand about 'bestseller' as a term is that it's time-dependent.

It's not just kudos: it's kudos in the first 24 hours. It's movie profits on opening weekend.

This shit means literally nothing if you're consuming the art even six months later, never mind after a decade.

--

I think it's stupid as fuck to sort AO3 by kudos unless you're just researching what gets a lot of kudos. I think having this as a default behavior encourages bullies to force targets into archive-locking (which almost invariably reduces kudos and hits) and penalizes authors who don't waste a lot of time trying to game the system. I also don't think it's actually effective for finding good fic.

But buying books based on bestseller status is even dumber because all it means is that a book was marketed correctly to have all its sales in the same week.

Here's someone's attempt to explain. He estimates that you need to sell only 5,000-10,000 copies in a single week to make it on one of the NYT lists.

There are a few other quirks to it, but... yeah... 5k copies in a slow week. Nationwide in the US. For something released by a big publisher with reach. Counting pre-orders if it's the very first week.

And then you get to put "NYT Bestseller" on the cover forever even if it never sold more than those 5k preorders.

Forget booktok promoting garbage: if the numbers are really this low, then "bestseller" meant absolutely nothing for years and years before modern social media.

It's not even cumulative like kudos are. If they mean that, they label it with "Over blahdy-blah million copies sold", not "bestseller".

Like with kudos, the only time this is really useful is if you're chasing buzz. If you want to know what other people are making noise about this week, then yes, you should check out the current bestseller.

It is okay to chase buzz, especially if you are a book blogger and trying to keep your audience up to date on what's going on in publishing! Just be aware that that's what you're doing.

If you want a book that will be culturally relevant for longer than five minutes or a book that is well-written or a book that is to your taste, you should look for some other method of book discovery.

And hey, you might end up with that very same bestseller! It might be a great book, actually. It's just that the "bestseller" status isn't what tells you that.

[cometwritesshit]

So Mun x fem!Reader Smut

Authors Note: My first So Mun fic so not too much on me 😓Also not proofread thoroughly so please just ignore any mistakes.

Warnings: Afab reader,sub!reader, dom!mun Cockwarming, a lil bit of humiliation. degradation,breeding if you squint, unprotected sex(don't do this abeg),exhibitionism kinda.

Word count: 0.5k

minors dni!!

As usual, you came home just to see your boyfriend on call with his friends, doing nothing but playing games. Now, usually you wouldn't mind this, but this time you were really needy.

"Babe, stop. I can't be doing this today. I promised them I would stay on." Mun said as you climbed onto his lap,but you ignored his request. You needed him, yet he was too busy playing games with his friends.

"Sorry guys, give me a minute; I'll be right back," he says, turning his mic off and looking down at you.

"Look, I have an idea," he whispered in your ears, sending chills down your back. "I'll let you sit on my cock, but only if you promise to be a good girl and keep still and quiet, yeah?". You nodded, desperate for any sort of contact you could get.

Mun pulled down his boxers,freeing his already hard cock, which was leaking with pre-cum. He slipped your panties to the side and slowly slid inside you, cursing under his breath as his cock was practically kissing your cervix.

After regaining his composure, he placed his headphones back on his head and turned his mic back on. "Sorry guys, I'm back now." He says, sighing as multiple voices, that you recognised and scolded him.

As the minutes went by, the sensation became more and more unbearable, leading to you attempting to move while silently whimpering.

"Fuck, baby, I said stay still," he whispered, his mic still on for his friends to hear. You continued trying to move until Mun placed his hands on your hips, holding you in place.

"Mun, please," you say, looking up at him in desperation.

"You said you would behave; you don't want my friends to hear how much of a slut you are, right?" He hissed under his breath, slightly louder this time.

You stay still, thinking about the embarrassment you could face. After all, you knew his friends, and you see all of them on a regular basis. What would they think of you if they heard you whining and whimpering on Mun's cock?

Still, you couldn't hold back, desperate for some sort of movement inside of you, until you heard Mun sigh in frustration.

"If you want to move so badly, surely you wouldn't mind my friends hearing your desperate moans, right? Since you want to disobey me and act like a whore," He said he was turning up the volume of the call so you could hear his friends loud and clear.

He began thrusting up into you, his hands on your waist, holding you up and giving you support as you moaned uncontrollably for all his friends to hear. "Seriously, guys, on call?" "Fuck, that's kind of hot." "Oh my god." You heard his friends comment in the background, making the experience slightly more humiliating, but you couldn't hold back.

"Fuck, mun, im close," you whine, your body shaking uncontrollably until you released all over his cock, but despite this, he continued thrusting, harder and faster each time.

"Im not letting you go until cum as well, 'm gonna breed you so full." He grunts in your ear as you feel him twitch inside you until he eventually releases his seed inside of you,  filling you up to the brim.