#but enjoy my first real ficlet

[whineandcheese24]

thinking about a universe where Buck never went to the basketball game, or at least never body-checked Eddie. Buck still has this weird feeling, but he goes home and he tries not to think about it, and he goes to work and he tries not to think about it, and Eddie tells him about the drinks he and Tommy grabbed after the game and he tries not to think too much about the twist in his gut or the shiver down his spine. but then he gets a call from Tommy asking if he was serious about those flying lessons, and Buck says yes before he even processes the question because all he hears is that he'll get to spend time with Tommy without anyone else there. he doesn't quite understand why but he knows that's what wants. So he and Tommy meet up at the hangar for a lesson, and one lesson turns into two turns into four turns into drinks after shifts and Tommy's karaoke bar trivia. And he and Tommy are friends now but that fluttery feeling in his stomach never quite goes away. One day Tommy offers to show him some muay thai moves and Buck doesn't think anything of it until Tommy is shirtless and sweaty and Buck loses focus long enough for Tommy to end up on top of him and Buck's face is burning up in a way he knows is from more than the workout but he doesn't know why. Buck goes home after that hot and bothered and really confused and maybe he just needs to start dating again. It has been a while since he and Natalia broke up, but he scrolls through a dating app for a half hour, and none of the women that show up are appealing so he goes to sleep unsatisfied, mind drifting to hard muscles and big arms and a crinkly smile that he doesn't remember in the morning. This goes on for a little while, where he hangs out with Tommy, and his stomach flutters in a way he can't explain. Until one day after flying lessons, Tommy comes up to his apartment, and Buck hands him a beer, and the two of them are sitting next to each other at the kitchen island just talking about life and work and flying, and the whole time Buck is hanging on Tommy's every word, looking directly in his eyes, ever so slightly tilting his head, moving his arm closer, scooting forward in his chair, and he doesn't even realize what he's doing except Tommy's voice is low and gravelly, and Buck's face is heating up again, and it's getting hard to keep looking at him so he goes to get another beer, and when he comes back Tommy is standing. And he's just a hair taller than Buck, but it's enough to make his breath catch in his throat. In this universe, when Tommy leans in, his fingers guiding Buck's chin up to his lips, he's slow and deliberate. In this universe, Buck kisses him back harder and hungrier, because even though he still wasn't sure what it was Tommy was making him feel, he can't say he's surprised this is where they ended up. In this universe, Tommy takes weeks to kiss him, but it's longer and hotter and doesn't just stop at a peck.

[celesomnis]

❝ The Lionguard Gambit ❞

Nyoka Wadjet x Prefect Reader

The prefect requires some help. The snakeman will not provide it without a catch. There is chess, and a more harrowing "game" is maybe played too.

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babes, bros, and nonbinary beaus, I present to you the highly anticipated ''x reader'' ficlet for @cozymochi and @oddberryshortcake 's slitheringly handsome oc!

because let's be so real, we all down bad for that snake boi.

(and happy christmas you two dears! <3 I hope you do enjoy this and that it lifts your spirits fghsjk and i am so sorry if he is wildly ooc,, I tried my best 😭)

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“I know a guy for that.”

"Yeah. I'm kinda... I'm kind of here because you do, actually."

Nyoka Wadjet did not look amused.

You folded your fingers together and regarded the venomous beastman as passively and politely as you were able.

"Look. I know since we've been sticking around in Savanaclaw lately, Grim has been pushing your boundaries here and there. So if you help me, I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again like that... for two whole weeks."

Air pushed slowly through his nostrils. He was regarding you more seriously now.

Approaching the very allusive, and admittedly rather frightful, student in order to find somebody who could counterfeit thaumarks was perhaps not the most self-preserving decision you'd made. But it was imperative to a growing idea you had on how to deal with you and your friends' latest Azul troubles.

"Three weeks." You sweetened the deal.

Nyoka's eyes narrowed.

"He landed on my head." was stated factually, like the action's offense spoke for itself.

That had indeed happened. Grim was not a often creature of preserving personal space.

"A month?" You tried.

"A year."

Well that wasn't happening. "Um. I could offer two months, maybe." People really had a tendency to overestimate your level of control over that little (lovable) demon.

It seemed like that was not a favorable compromise. Nyoka's attention dipped from you and moved to the room's center where he had previously been seated.

Your stare followed his towards the shining, porcelain chess set readied and untouched at the low-standing table. Sparking a different tactic.

"Or, maybe you could play me for it?"

His gaze swung lazily back at you. Something about the action, and the hooded way his eyes looked, put little tingles along your arms.

"I promise I actually know how to play." You said, in case he was doubting your authenticity.

Movement caught your attention behind his legs, and a second later, his long tail came swishing side to side. A myriad of scales glittering under the sunroof's light.

A somersault happened inside your stomach, but was ignored in favor of catching Nyoka's next words.

“I like to be on the winning side.”

"Is that you doubting yourself against me?" You pushed.

He tipped his chin up slightly, a sun-flare running over his glasses.

“One battle doesn’t lose a war, prefect.”

The message was clear. Challenge Accepted.

He waved a gloved hand, inviting you to sit, which you obliged.

"Alright." Nyoka told you, easing himself gracefully onto the opposing seat. "If you beat me, I will connect you with my friend. But if I beat you, you will forbid your familiar from invading my presence for the remainder of the year."

Oh dear. He was dead-set on that, wasn't he.

Your eyes met. The colors in his clashed your own.

These were desperate times.

"Deal."

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The first few minutes of the game were done mostly in silence.

While it was true you knew how to play (at least, back in your home world you had) it'd been awhile since you'd done so for real, and there was a necessary amount of concentration needed in the first half while you eased back into things.

Nyoka, naturally, was a hard player from the start.

Though some of the plays and tactics he tried helped along in jogging your memory of the nuances, there was still some clear rust in your play, whereas he was all refined sharpness.

Poising in ponder, then striking fast.

Quick as a cobra.

The game did not take long to be leant in his favor.

And the silence was becoming brutal.

It was very quiet in the room, which made sense as to why Nyoka liked to frequent here. And it wasn't unsettling.

That was not the issue.

The distress came because in its peace, it caused the only sound you could latch onto in the whole room was the slow, deep, even breaths leaving the man's chest.

Slow in, slower out, over and over.

Each breath led your concentration to phase in and out of the game with it.

When you snapped back to, you found you just lost one of your knights. Rather viciously.

"You're really subtle with your attacks." You noted sardonically, mostly just to say anything.

There was a shake to your hands as they moved your king.

Nyoka watched you fidget.

In reply, there was a smooth counter of; "Hmph. Like a drop to the head."

You wetted your lips. Moved a pawn. "Grim's harmless, just very personable."

"He is lucky I didn't bite him." Nyoka murmured.

You were still a little lost to thought when this was said, so your ears failed to detect if its inflection held jest or sarcasm.

"Really? I figured you too elegant to go around handling annoyances with your teeth," Slipped out of your mouth before sense caught up to it.

His eyes slid at you. Pinned you there.

Something in your gut flipped.

"I should bite you, Prefect."

The game, and entire room, might have disappeared, but right then you couldn't have been sure.

He spoke it low, and it rolled out of his throat in a way that sent heat down your back. "But I think I wouldn't get the taste out of my mouth for days."

The heat became infernal.

Your head turned away, cheek meeting the forgiving cold of the sofa, desperate to pretend those words weren't the most charged thing you'd experienced in your time here.

"Calm yourself," He intoned, and maybe it was your racing mind, but you almost thought he had the gall to sound amused. "Any venom I have is reserved for other targets."

Oh, you were anything but calm. But there was a bell ringing in the distance, another later hour revealing itself.

It was getting late, and you still had a chess game at stake.

Nyoka exhaled, a low and long huff that makes you at once certain you won't be able to stand for a long while after this.

It felt like a lot of things were at stake right now.

From infernal to charred, you were a wreck at this point.

Forcing your focus to cooperate, the board came back to life before you and a realization was brought with it.

"Finding it difficult to think?" His words were edged with a sultry hiss.

You steeled. Made your move fast. Trying to keep your face unchanging.

Nyoka fluttered his long fingers atop his pieces, calculating, before finally resting atop his queen. And took your pawn.

A sudden sense of victory quelled all other emotions within you, and with haste you moved your knight into a position that seemed vulnerable.

Taking the bait, Nyoka moved his queen back where it was before.

You struck, using your bishop to fly across the board for the winning move. Exclaiming "Check!" and knocking porcelain against porcelain. Hands springing up, elated. "Hah! I did it! The Lionguard Gambit!"

Nyoka looked up at you fast, then moved aback. Expression one you couldn't define. "The... What."

You remained as you were. Enjoying the simmer of your victory.

Thanking the gods and the Seven for having provided the luck that led you to stumble across that move in a late-night library study one evening.

The snakeman stared at you a long time.

The longer that the seconds ticked by, the less sure of yourself you became. Fearful there had been a miscalculation or premature celebration.

You hadn't done it wrong, had you?

And then, Nyoka said; "...Lionheart Gambit?"

A rush of burning sensation to your ears coaxed your arms into a deflate.

"Oh." That was embarrassing. "Well- you know what I meant! My point is, I won!"

"So you did." He relented, sparing you by moving on from your blunder.

It had felt like your mispronunciation had sort of rattled him, for whatever reason, but that was a mystery for another time.

“I guess some battles can turn a war’s tides, snake eyes.” You said, tone lilting once more coy.

Nyoka lowered himself into the spine of his chair with crossing arms.

You waited. "...Um. So. Nyoka?"

"Don't get fretful, prefect, I withhold my ends of bargains. I'll introduce you to the person you seek tomorrow."

You felt a press of disappoint, but relented that it had gotten late. You hadn't realized when the sun's shine had been replaced with the softer lights of the overhead lanterns.

Rising from the seat, knees mercifully only wobbling a little, you offered him thanks and began to make the - perhaps a little purposefully slowed - trek towards the exit.

"Well. Goodnight, Nyoka."

"Hmm."

"You not going to sleep?"

"In a while."

“Ah. Putting in some extra practice for when you get a good chess partner?” You tossed playfully over a shoulder.

“That is not an issue.”

Nyoka rolled his fingers into a fist and set his chin on it. He did not look back at you, but somehow, the heat in your chest returned all the same.

And beyond noise of the door shutting after you, you caught six words that kept that heat burning low in your chest for the whole night following;

“I know a prefect for that.”

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fin.

[winterdaphne2]

Favorite Johnlock Fics (BBC Sherlock)

I went on a bit of a fic-reading spree this spring, and this list of favorites is the result! There are many other fics that I’ve enjoyed reading, but these are the ones that I’ve really loved for one reason or another.

I’ve tagged the authors whose tumblrs I could find. If that’s you, thank you so much for sharing your writing with us. If your work is on here, you wrote something that I really treasure.

1. A River Without Banks, by Chryse. E, 203,286 words. Starts right after Season 3. A mix of Sherlock’s perspective, John’s perspective, and the perspectives of other characters. Sherlock-focused for the first half.

Author’s summary: “‘You love this, being Sherlock Holmes.’ He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?”

This is my absolute favorite. The author’s characterization of Sherlock is amazingly accurate, and Sherlock’s character development over the course of the story is breathtakingly executed and moving. The plot is fantastic and takes you on a page-turning emotional roller coaster, especially for about the first half of the story. I was also continually impressed by how many details from the show and references to earlier parts of the fic the author was able to weave in throughout while still keeping the story creative and original. Most importantly, though, I love this fic for the message that it sends about Sherlock and John’s love, which is a far more positive message than the one that the actual show settled upon in the end. I’m grateful that we have this version of their love story, and, personally, I like to pretend that this was Season 4 and how the show ended.

2. Another Country, by Chryse. E, 67,414 words. Starts right after the end of TAB. Sherlock’s perspective.

Sherlock spends one month and three days under house arrest in 221B, trying to get clean from the drugs, track down the new Moriarty, and figure out what the hell is going on between him and John.

Another fantastic work by Chryse. This author really gets Sherlock’s character, and once again the characterization of Sherlock is spot-on and convincing. There are a few other elements that also make this a compelling story, including smart use of minor characters, a solid central mystery, and a complicated relationship between Sherlock and John that includes a pretty convincing post-Season-3 version of John. Excellent.

3. walk through ghosts, by @augustbird. M, 6,125 words. Written between Seasons 2 and 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “The thing is: Sherlock thought that the two of them would have forever to figure it out.”

This is the saddest fic I have ever read, and so beautifully written. The author captures Season 2 Sherlock’s character perfectly; the fact that this story feels so real is what makes it devastating. The day after I read this, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and walked around with my heart physically aching in my chest.

4. Nature and Nurture, by @earlgreytea68. M, 203,273 words. Set sometime after Season 2. Alternates between John’s and Sherlock’s perspectives, but mostly told from John’s.

The British government clones Sherlock. He and John decide to raise the baby.

A true fandom classic. The premise sounds super cracky, but somehow it really works. This fic is surprisingly serious at times, but overall it is the cutest and funniest thing I have ever read in my life. Basically 200,000+ words of Sherlock and John being adorable gay fathers together and working through some feelings, with line-by-line some of the most hilarious dialogue ever. The five accompanying ficlets that the author wrote as short follow-ups are also worth checking out; my favorites were School (T, 4,753 words) and The Radovljica Apicultural Museum (T, 4,540 words).

5. To a Friend Who Sent Me Roses, by @algyswinburne. E, 16,147 words. Set sometime after Season 4 (but ignores TFP, as we all should lol). Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “Five times Sherlock is mistaken for John’s partner and Rosie’s father, and one time it isn’t a mistake.”

This fic is sad, sweet, and hot by turns. Absolutely lovely to read in so many ways, and with so many great details and lines. I think this story offers convincing portrayals of what Sherlock’s and John’s characters might be like after it all and how they might finally get together. This and A River Without Banks are my favorite alternate endings to the show. Beautiful!

6. for all that bitter delights will sour, by @darcylindbergh. E, 9,585 words. Set sometime after Season 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

John initiates a sexually and emotionally abusive relationship with Sherlock.

The second saddest fic I have read. I would never want what happens in this fic to happen to Sherlock and John, so I don’t exactly recommend it as a Johnlock fic. But as a short story, this is a gem, full of absolutely gorgeous and incredibly moving writing. It depicts difficult themes very deftly, in lines and paragraphs that I had to stop to read over and over. I appreciate this as an emotionally powerful and thought-provoking piece of writing inspired by Sherlock, so for that reason I think it deserves to be on this list.

7. The Ground Beneath Your Feet, by Chryse. E, 68,803 words. Set after Season 3, but as if the last two minutes of HLV never happened. “The plane went on to Eastern Europe, and this is what came after.” John’s perspective.

This fic is pretty dark; the author describes it as “a PTSD story in which John was wholly devoted to Sherlock.” I don’t love it quite as much as the other two fics by Chryse that I’ve listed here, but that’s mostly because those two are just so amazing! I still really enjoyed this one. It was wonderful to see a kind and caring version of John emerge out of Season 3, and the story had several memorable moments, including one particularly nail-biting scene. I also really liked seeing John and Mycroft become friends as they bonded over their shared concern for Sherlock.

8. The Adventures of a Single Girl in London (Plus a Consulting Detective), by @earlgreytea68. M, 32,913 words. Set soon after Season 3. Alternates between different characters’ perspectives.

Bored with life at her new cottage in Sussex, Janine returns to London and moves in with Sherlock at 221B. Hilarity, heartbreak, and eventual Johnlock ensue.

This is a Season 3 fix-it fic that features an absolutely lovely friendship between Sherlock and Janine and the best version of Janine that I’ve come across in a fic. Sherlock is vulnerable and sweet, John is an absolute idiot, Janine is perfect, and the last two chapters just make me scream. Great stuff.

And that’s it for now! If you know of any other fics that I might like based on the above, I’d be happy to hear about them, so drop me a line!

Happy reading 😊

[greynatomy]

football or football?

lucy bronze x reader

lucy won the very close poll.

been seeing the whole taylor swift and travis kelce thing on tiktok and got this idea.

this became longer than Iithought it’d be. was supposed to be a ficlet. oh, well.

let me know what you think!

-grey

———

For the past two weeks, you’ve been trending on twitter. At first you don’t know what it’s about, but your publicist caught you up saying how there’s a footballer — American footballer — who keeps mentioning you in interviews and on his podcast. It was honestly getting pretty annoying, not just to you, but also to your very jealous girlfriend.

You’d both decided to keep your relationship private, with you being a popular musician and your girlfriend being a top footballer in the league. Except, the media has been labeling your relationship as friends, best friends who support each other. Never once has there been an article where you both are speculated to be dating.

You’ve both been fun with it, being able to not have to hide anything, but with the whole Travis Kelce using your name to stay relevant to the media, your girlfriend is getting fed up.

“I don’t know why he keeps bringing you up? Not once have you mentioned him on anything. ‘The ball is in your court?’ Like what does that mean?” Lucy rambles.

“Honestly, I’m getting tired of it too. I’ve been so busy with touring that I didn’t even know about it until Sarah told me.” You reply, cuddling up to her on the bed, your head on her chest.

“Did Sarah tell you what you should do?”

“Sarah’s pretty much fed up like the both of us so she said it’s up to me. She doesn’t care if I tell him to fuck off, I’d do it anyway without telling her.”

“Didn’t you say he invited you to a game?”

“Yeah, he did. Why?” You we’re getting skeptical with the way Lucy has a smirk and mischievous look on her face.

“Don’t you think it’s time for us to come out, no?”

“Been together four years. Probably long overdue.”

“Well you better tell him that you’d love to accept that invitation, with a plus one of course.”

“I’m liking the way you think.”

———

Now a week later, you and Lucy were dressed up in red, arriving at Arrowhead Stadium. Lucy had a red England bucket hat on that she took off your head. You were being escorted to the friends and family box by security, running into people who recognized you. One hand holding Lucy’s the other waving to people as you passed.

Walking into the box, you were met with lots of people, Travis’ mom was the one to come and greet you.

“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Kelce.”

“Oh, please call me Donna. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m a big fan of your music, been wanting to meet you ever since Travis said that you’d both started talking.”

“That’s so nice of you, thank you, but unfortunately all the conversations your son had with me are one sided. I’ve never once entertained anything he said. The only time I’ve texted back was to tell him I’d love to attend a game. Never been to an American Football game before.”

“Really? My son said you guys were getting along.”

“Unfortunately for him, we haven’t. But I’d like to introduce you to my partner Lucy.”

“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you as well Lucy. I’m sorry if my son cause any trouble between the two of you.”

“It’s no worries at all. Excited to watch the game.”

“You’ve got an accent. Where are you from?”

“From England.”

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for accents. But let’s not let the situation get in the way and enjoy this game.”

———

liked by fan1, fan2 and 23,749 others

ynupdates yn seen at the kansas chief’s game

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fan1 NO WAY SHES THERE

fan2 MAMA KELCE IS WITH HER

fan3 is ynvis real?!?!

fan4 is everyone gonna ignore lucy bronze right next to her

———

The game just finished. Everyone is cheering as the Chief’s won a game at home. You and Donna hug each other close, jumping up and down. Lucy was actually awestruck by all the people celebrating their team winning, thinking back to all the times fans of hers and her team celebrated like this.

Moments after, you follow Debby to the hallways, no doubt leading to her son. Travis comes out freshly showered and changed a bit after, going straight to his Mom for a hug. Then he turns to you opening his arms out for a hug, so you give him a side hug, not wanting to be mean. Cameras click nonstop towards the two of you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says to you.

“You as well. Great game you played out there.”

“Thank you. Wanna go somewhere more private so we can hear each other better without the prying eyes?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He leads towards the exit, you following behind him, your hand holding Lucy’s tightly, who Travis hadn’t acknowledged at all. Exiting towards the garage where his and your cars are parked, you relax a bit, relieved to be away from the cameras. Lucy walks a bit off to the side to let you two talk, but still close enough to hear, in case he says something he shouldn’t.

“Im glad you accepted my invite.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ve never been to or seen an American Football game.”

“American Football?”

“Well, yeah. The U.S is the only one that plays this sport. Football is played throughout the world.”

“Wow, you’re gonna be like that?” He says, thinking you’re flirting with him by saying his sport isn’t widely played.

“Be like what?”

“Never mind. But I just wanted to ask if you wanna hang out right now? Get to know each other a bit more.” He steps closer towards you, but you step back.

“I’d have to decline. My girlfriend and I have to get back to England. She’s got a couple Football matches coming up.”

“Girlfriend?” Travis is shocked by the information. “I didn’t know you were even with someone.”

“I’m surprised no one knows. They see two girls and automatically think they’re best friends or something. But, no, been with that girl right there four years. It was very obvious.” You wave Lucy over. “Travis this is Lucy Bronze, my girlfriend—”

“—Actually fiancé. Proposed a couple weeks ago, so there’s still some getting used to. It’s nice to meet you mate. Heard you’ve been talking ‘bout my girl pretty often past few weeks.”

The look on Travis’ face is laughable.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, we’re very private people. But now that you’ve met my girl after being all up in her DM’s, you’d stop using her name to stay relevant yeah? ‘Cause it’s making you look desperate.”

You didn’t interfere. You’re stood off to the side, a proud look on your face.

“Yeah, of course. Never again.”

“The last thing you should talk about in that little podcast of yours is a public apology using her name for fame like many men have in the past.”

After a moment of Lucy staring at Travis she speaks up again. It was a bit funny how intimidated he looked at Lucy, seeing as she’s almost a foot shorter than him

“Well, mate, we best be off. I’ve got some Football to be preparing for, my girl by my side always. Best of luck to you. Hope you find someone that isn’t taken.”

With that, she takes a hold of your hand, leading you to the car. You give him a little wave, leaving him speechless in the middle of the parking garage.

———

liked by leahwilliamsonn, lucybronze and 10,375,829 others

yourinstagram Thank you travis for the invite! Had a lot of fun at my first ever American Football game with my Fiancé. Congrats to you and your team on the win! #KansasCityChiefs

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lucybronze very different from football for sure

↳ yourinstagram very different

leahwilliamsonn where was my invite?

↳ yourinstagram you didn’t get one

↳ leahwilliamsonn rude

fan1 SHES ENGAGED

fan2 ynvis isn’t real thank god!

fan3 OHMYGOD ITS LUCY BRONZE ALCJHD

fan4 this is a very polite way of saying ‘keep my name out your fucking mouth’

[thehypnone]

Give me the weird silicone noise fic I’m begging!!!

I couldn't help myself and not write it right away... well, here's the original idea and one and two additional ones that I took and weaved together and turned into this little ficlet. I recall @sphylor @kroas-adtam @revengeghoulette @moldycantaloupe and @jazz-bazz being particularly interested in this, hence the tags. no nose riding itself in here, but I do hope you enjoy

edit: I remembered this ficlet from a while ago, y'all can treat it as a loose continuation of this one

Dewdrop didn’t even dare hope he would get away with it. Nothing stays a secret in the ghouls’ den and certainly nothing related to sex.

It’s his own fault, really.

For months he used to rely on his imagination alone, fucking his own fingers or a toy in and out of his cunt as he thought about it. After a while he caved in and made his purchase, probably the stupidest thing he’s ever bought.

But it worked well enough and so for another few weeks he took care of his sinful thoughts by riding a fucking silicone nose. Not the weirdest fantasy he’s heard of or indulged in, but every single time he takes that thing out from his toy box, shame burns through his core.

He used to fall to temptation only where he was absolutely sure no one would interrupt him; the main rule was Rain being out of the den. One unfortunate time, though, Dewdrop is sure he’s being teased on purpose.

For some mysterious reason, Rain decided to wear his helmet and balaclava to the rehearsal, without painting his nose black. Of course, why would he, but why would he wear his gear in the first place, if not to condemn the fire ghoul to two hours of walking around with a pool of slick in his underwear?

Still, Dewdrop doubts he knows. The real mistake was him getting down to business right after the rehearsal. He was in such a rush he didn’t even care to lock his door.

He regrets his carelessness immensely as Rain stares him down with comical disbelief in his eyes and a growing smirk.

“It’s not what it looks like–” the poor fire ghoul pants, not moving off of his toy. He’s both trying to hide it and for his pleasure not to end. Lucifer only knows how big of a slut Dewdrop is for some humiliation.

“Is it now?” Rain scoffs. The look in his eyes, the way he stands there, his voice…Dewdrop knows what version of his mate he’s getting and, frankly, he’s as terrified as he’s excited. “Seems to me like you’ve been grinding your pretty cunt against a fake nose. Moaning and whimpering my name, all the while.”

“I–I’m–”

“Oh, shut it,” the water ghoul chuckles, waving an elegant hand in the air; a mimicry of one of his favorite stunts when they play live. He approaches to stand right over the impossibly flustered Dewdrop and looks down at him, his expression an image of condescension. The fire ghoul can’t bear it; he hangs his head and curls in on himself. If he manages a little roll of his hips against the thing he’s still sitting on…well, that’s for him to know and for Rain to laugh about. “Pathetic.”

It’s hard not to agree.

Rain gets on the bed and makes himself comfortable against the headboard, with his arms folded under his head. He doesn’t speak or move for a while and it’s only Dewdrop’s desperation that breaks the silence.

“Rainy, please, I just–”

“Just what, you whore?” the water ghoul growls and Dewdrop curls in on himself even more. “Such a slut you can’t help but sexualize even the least sexual pieces of me, are you not?”

The fire ghoul doesn’t answer.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, I–I do. I am,” Dewdrop stammers out. He can’t see him���staring pointedly at a mole on his thigh—but Rain’s cruel smile grows.

“Move,” he orders. Dewdrop couldn’t disobey under his heavy stare even if he wanted to. He lifts his hips and scoots backwards, leaving the silicone nose laying soaked between his thighs. “Give it to me.”

The fire ghoul cries out in shame before lifting it with a shaky hand and extending it for his mate to grab.

“Disgusting,” Rain scoffs as slick covers his palm. He shakes his head before throwing that wretched piece of silicone across the room. They’ll worry about it later. “You should’ve come to me. Asked for the real thing.”

Finally, Dewdrop lifts his head with a confused and terrified look.

“Yeah, I would’ve let you,” the water ghoul admits, “I love you so much, you know I would do anything for you.”

“I…I’m sorry, I didn’t think–”

“No, you didn’t,” Rain sighs as he finally shifts. He scoots down to lay down more than sit. “Now you’ll have to show me what it is that you’ve really been up to.”

“Oh…oh no, Rainy, I won’t–”

“Yes, you will. Come here,” he orders and Dewdrop lets out a dry sob as he crawls over. Rain digs his long fingers into his pale thighs and manhandles the fire ghoul to straddle him.

He shakes the entire time and can’t help a wanton moan that rips itself out of him when Rain scrunches his nose at him.

“Come on, baby,” he grins from in between Dewdrop’s legs, “take a seat.”

[ronearoundblindly]

ok im feeling the kiss list sm!! im feeling angsty... so steve x reader with #4 or #26?? love u <3333

#4 (a kiss where it hurts) was double requested, so this is #26-- *this* one isn't angsty although technically could be considered a wee tinybit smidgenly dark if you squint real hard. Sorry this is not even remotely edited and all over the place and just *sighs* yeah okay enjoy!

Steve Rogers x reader: a kiss as an apology

I'm So, So...Sorry, a tale for Valentine's 2024

Summary: Grant, a guest at your middle-of-nowhere motel, has needs not covered by the usual turn-down service.

Warnings: *screams and bites pillow* WHY. WHY???? omg, this just...ack...smut. Nomad Steve being needy and touch-starved just ruined my life. 😭😭😭 DUB-CON adjacent b/c Steve loses control. Please send him help. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. There's plenty else to read on my Light Masterlist, but this ficlet is for adults! WC 2022

To look at him, you’d think this dude can fuck, but it turns out that the absolutely huge man checking into your family’s small rural motel doesn’t know the first thing about flirting, much less sex.

You have no idea what ‘Grant’ and his friend ‘Tom’ were really whispering about over the breakfast table that one morning weeks ago, but later that night Grant came by the office, restless and unable to sleep.

He just talked to you. It was all superficial conversation about the area, the weather, what activities you liked on your days off. Even that seemed a struggle for him—thinking up casual questions. He could look you in the eye up until he had to respond, and he didn’t give many answers in return.

You laughed--you had to—when Grant asked if he could walk you to your door, which…is ludicrous because it’s a house a whopping fifty meters down the way from strip of rooms.

“I could walk,” he shrugs. “I’ll probably do a lap or two anyway.”

“Well, I have to wait for Clark to show up, but—“ you look him up and down “—okay.”

Twenty minutes later, the craziest thing happened.

An elk walked right in front of you on the path, and you jumped back, slamming into the wall of muscle the was your escort. You were both perfectly still as it moved.

Then that thing squawked and stamped huge hoofs. You threw your weight backward and spun to flee, clambering over Grant’s body.

Why you were so scared, who knows; you should be used to the wildlife.

The most shocking thing, however, is how strongly he tried to hold you still.

The harsh grip on your waist and the way he hissed through his teeth for you to stop should have been your hint, but instead you clung to him harder, asking if the animal was gone.

“Uh…” Grant tenses against you. “It’s…it’s just—“ he shudders when you wriggle closer “—yes, gone,” he bites out, pushing you away by the hips.

He takes a second to breathe, then, “let’s get you home.”

‘Grant’ is now properly called ‘Steve’ in private.

It took a while for him to trust you. He and ‘Tom’—whose real name you still don’t know—have been back and forth to the motel several times. You don’t talk about other guests. You don’t gossip. You don’t pry because that is just the nature of your business.

Steve’s initial five o’clock shadow has come in nicely. The first time he returned with the full beard, you couldn’t help yourself and brushed your fingers through it on your way back from handing him his key over the counter. The way he looked at you…devastating.

Tom made his own, very knowing face, and winked.

“You should do that more. Touch him. He could use it.”

Steve cleared his throat harshly and blushed, accidentally leaving a small bag on the ground when he rushed to the door.

“He was joking. It was a joke,” Steve blurted when he found you standing there to give it back.

You just smiled and said Tom wasn’t wrong.

“So, if you ever just want a hug…” you muttered.

That’s how this started.

A tentative embrace where only the top of his chest touched you led to a lovely full-body hug, and then he held you a touch longer, so your hand went to his hair and…

Steve whined and crashed you two against the wall outside his room, righting himself almost immediately, excusing the behavior, and rushing back inside. You couldn’t let that stand though. You stopped the door before it closed.

“Hey, it’s okay. I can be here, if you want, to hold.”

Steve’s eyes were one of the only things you could see in the dark room.

You took a chance and reached out to scratch at his bearded cheek again. “Not like you’re gonna hurt me, Stevie.”

So he melted into your hand, eye’s rolling as if drunk on the feeling, and you stepped in to hug him.

You can’t count the number of times you’ve had to tell him ‘it’s okay,’ but at least Steve doesn’t stop everything to apologize each time. Convincing him not to be self-conscious of how his body reacts to touch took a while.

He humped your leg like a puppy while you played with his hair. He came in his pants while you gave him a back rub. He cried when you kissed over his arms and chest.

You’ve told him it’s all okay.

He tries so hard not to smile when he checks back in, but he waits until your shift ends to have you fall asleep in his arms.

You’ve told him it’s okay to fall asleep in your arms, too.

Genuinely, the best part of the whole arrangement is that he will let you do anything to him. He’s fine being petted and fawned over, teased for being more ripped than jeans in the ‘90s—except for he didn’t understand that joke, sadly,—and it’s okay because you get it. He doesn’t tell you any personal information. He barely told you his name. He’s probably figured out that you aren’t an idiot and have put two-and-two together, but he keeps quiet, too.

He lets you keep touching him because he enjoys it.

Aside from the average hug and a simple spooning hold, Steve only ever touches you when you put his hand somewhere. (Right, except for the leg humping, but that was adorable so who cares! He wasn’t even doing that to touch you; poor thing needed friction, is all.) Anyway, since he’s been so excited about everything you’ve wanted to do to him, you push your luck.

The recent days have been all about Steve completely naked and at your mercy, which is, of course, still focused on making him feel good, but tonight is the very first night you are also naked. It’s meant to be a profound comfort—your weight atop him, maximum skin-to-skin contact—and it is.

He’s warm and stretched out like a cat in the sun beneath you, smiling, resting his eyes as dusk takes over the sky. You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat but don’t notice until he’s gently shaking you awake.

“You’re…you were squirming a lot. Thought you might be having a nightmare.”

Steve’s voice is husky. His grip on your arm is deliberately stationary until you shift to slide off of him.

His hand flies down to the back of your knee but not before you feel the hard length of his erection move from its perch at your ass to press flush on the back of your thigh.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Just ignore it.”

You’re surprised he’s so shy after all you’ve been through for this. How can he doubt?

You stretch up to his face, straddling his abs for stability. “Stevie,” you say with soft fingers carding through his long hair, “you know it really is okay. You know that.”

He hums, his cock jumping against your ass while he squeezes your knee. He exhales shakily when you drag the back of your nails down his arms and sit up. Too dark to see, all you can go by is what you hear and feel.

“As long as you’re okay—“ you press into his pecs to lift yourself over his hips “and this is okay for you, right?”

It’s hard to hide how desperate he’s made you, but the issue is mutual based on how Steve groans when you settle your folds along the length of him. He clenches his ass so hard, it lifts you and sends a surge of heat to your core.

There’s a shuffling noise by his head.

“Is that a ‘yes?’ Are you alright?”

The shuffling repeats, accompanied by a strangled “yes.” He clenches again, and your arousal finally slicks his hot skin beneath you.

You keep your hands braced on his chest as you start to move, tiny pulses at first, and the poor thing is too sensitive.

He’s a panting mess by the time your slick is spread over him.

“No,” he whines, and you stop, thinking it’s too far to push him. “Too soon.”

“Shh, it’s okay to come. Remember, Stevie? That’s good. We can stop but—“

His other hand clamps onto the meat of your thigh. “Don’t. Don’t stop. I just…”

“Then we’ll do this again. Don’t worry,” you coo, rolling your hips from his root to tip.

He sounds tortured with little pleas and whimpers escaping before each guttural moan. He only lasts a few more thorough pumps. The spurts of cum graze your clit as he finishes on his stomach, shot as far as your wrists still above his chest, and for the first time with Steve you’re disappointed you can’t immediately keep going. You were getting very close, too, very fast.

It pains you to peel your sticky pussy off of him to get tissues, but you praise him the whole way.

“Please,” he rasps, taking hold of your arm as the last is wiped up, “more?” He’s breathless. “I can do better.”

You smile in the dark, excited for the possibility but afraid to push him. “Stevie, you did great. Rest for—“

“No, I—I want…I mean, can I touch you this time?”

Oh.

Oh.

“Sure,” you gulp, “that’d be nice.” If by ‘nice’ you mean ‘I’ve just creamed myself at a single question’ then yes, very nice.

He wants you in the same position straddling him, but that’s so he can spread his hands and run his fingertips over the most of you. He’s softened as he starts exploring you, but his lingering fascination with your breasts makes you wetter and wetter. He likes how you purr and gasp as he pinches and kneads. He likes to pull at your thighs until he gets handfuls of your ass.

He gets hard again off of your moans and tucks his cock between you while you instinctively ride him. It’s still only him deliciously fucking your folds until the repeated swipe of his head over your clit tips you to the edge, and your nails dig into his skin to draw down with the coil in your belly.

The angle catches him at your entrance, a shallow thrust that has you crying out lewdly, and suddenly, you’re on your back, Steve’s huge body pinning you to the mattress, one elbow propping himself by your chest, his other hand brutally spreading your ass to accommodate him.

You’re overwhelmed by the power he exerts over you. He suckles and nips at your breasts, cock so deep it pushes your insides to make way, and what starts as an average orgasm just wipes you out in a cascade of sharp pleasure.

Your hand grip blindly at his hair and back, choking on screams of profanities he wouldn’t appreciate, and he wraps his arms under you, bending you in an arch, chest to chest, while his hot breath rolls over your sweat-cooled throat.

You feel his lips open wide, but Steve goes silent until spent.

Finally, his last slow pistons calmed in halted combustion, he nuzzles his head to the crook of your neck.

Your fingers are frozen where buried in his hair.

In the dim moonlight you can see his ass twitch, jolting in over-stimulation while he gently pulls out of you. He props himself up, posture small and timid for such broad shoulders.

He hovers above you while you try to read each other’s expressions.

“I…I…” he starts quietly, looking over and over your features.

His chin ticks closer, hesitates, and then descends so his lips can capture yours. It’s so quick and chaste, like any other first kiss, but all out of order.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words cracking in his guilt. “I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop.”

You pull him down to you, properly melding your mouth to his, beginning your next lesson already, then let him come up for air.

“It’s okay, Stevie. You can still walk me home.”

A/N: *drops bath bomb to froth in the pool of Tumblr* *runs away* Don't ask me wtf just happened because I don't know. It just consumed my whole day.

[psst. This became a whole series. 'Hideout' Masterlist]

Bucky Barnes and a kiss as encouragement ⬅️ ➡️ Jake Jensen and a kiss where it doesn't hurt

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

Tags: I'm also adding the people who showed interest in this concept earlier. You will not be tagged beyond this unless you ask! @mrs-barnes-rogers-writes @bstorn @rogersbarber @cevansbaby-dove @nowandajenn @jesevans @justherebecausesafarisucks @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

[oonajaeadira]

@jolapeno is encouraging us all to list the favorite things we've made this year. And @sixhours and @jeewrites are superlative humans and they have tagged me and I am grateful for that!

I'm not gonna lie, y'all. When I'm asked to reflect on what I've created in the fandom this year...well, "depressed" is a word I could use.

But. It's been such a lovely year in the fandom. We were treated to a Fox, a Roman general, a boy-who-never-grew-up, and a penis collector, not to mention the promise of a very flexible scientific-genius wifeguy and sneak peeks of everyone's favorite melancholy apocalypse survivor.

Thank you to everyone who was helping us keep a lookout for nasty folks and helping to combat deplorable behaviors, and thank you to everyone who did their part keeping spirits bright.

And I will be forever grateful for @pedroscouts and @pedrosummercamp ...it literally gave me something to focus on when my days were running away from me and introduced me to some really sassy and hilarious new friends. <3

Still. 2024 put me through a professional and emotional wringer. So. Here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna list my wins. First, we'll start with what Jo asked for!

PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTER FANFICTION

Okay. So the rules said it had to be a finished project. Playing by the rules, I would have nothing to post. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Poop. So, in the interest of choosing joy, breaking the rules it is!

Fluffbruary Six-Sentence Ficlets - multiple I tried, y'all. I tried real hard. I got through 15! And I was making a new header for each one! And then life got real busy and I had to stop. But I have every prompt assigned and I decided I'm gonna reblog the first half and post the second half this February. I know they're not a popular series, but they make me happy, so they're getting doing!

Leave Off Your Wandering - Joel Technically, I did finish this one, since I had always planned for it to be just the four parts. But at the end of the Winter chapter, I realized it needed an epilogue, so there's another chapter coming. And it's not far off. I may finish it before the end of the year and then it will really not be a lie. But first.....

That Awooo Inside You (Part 1, Part 2) - Fink This may not qualify yet, but the final chapter will be finished before the end of the year. I have it half written and there's a chapter pic ready to go. Proof:

.

And that's mainly it. I did write some pieces for @morallyinept's spooky moodboards as well and really enjoyed that! But that's been what I've been able to do. So to combat the whomp whomp in my heart about it, I include here another list after the tags.

tagging! @katareyoudrilling @secretelephanttattoo @fromthedeskoftheraven @goodwithcheese @walkingaline

And you!

Your Favorite Things 2024 with Jo

PROFESSIONAL CHECKLIST OF 2024

(Pedro girlies can stop reading here. This is solely for me to really take account of and be proud of everything I accomplished this year, but also to let it soak in that I do not want another year like this again.)

JANUARY:

Researched, wrote, developed, costumed and constructed [solo show]

Performed [solo show] in Minneapolis for a limited group

Performed one night in an Off-Book quest slot performance

Performed [solo show] in Tuscon

FEBRUARY:

Prepared for the hellish year to come

MARCH:

Helped to develop new script for [indie company]

APRIL:

Directed new script for [indie company]

Developed, costumed, constructed and performed a short detailed piece for a fundraiser by a company I dearly love and hope to work for

MAY:

Continuance and opening of new script production for [indie company]

Both managing and guest performing in a large fundraiser show for my work

JUNE:

Performing [solo show] in Atlanta

Performing as part of a trio in a long-form improv production in Atlanta

Directing a brand new set of 5 trateau pieces for a company I dearly love

JULY:

Trateau rehearsal continues

AUGUST:

Trateau performances

Huge annual arts event that my work actually centers around

SEPTEMBER:

Travel to Sweden and Finland for work

Travel to Sweden and Denmark for pleasure (first time out of the US since 2019, so it was an accomplishment for me)

Start work on a project that will require me to direct, create, costume, design, manage, market, and help write five separate 60-mintue shows that will all perform within one week of each other

OCTOBER:

Aforementioned 5-show nightmare rehearsals and marketing continue

Performed in all 5 shows

Coordinated an 11-day pop-up market during that same week which included a complete (floor, ceiling, walls) set-dressing of a small room, while being the proprietor and coordinator of all sellers and wares

NOVEMBER:

Died a little inside

Cleaned my studio for the first time in a year

DECEMBER:

Started rehearsals for a show I'll act/sing in this spring, one that will be stress free and a fkn joy and everything that 2024 was not.

[fkinkindagauche]

A Naughty Lullaby

Here's a little ficlet written in the universe of The Most Gourd-geous Pumpkin in the Patch, but can be read without reading that, it is just pure ol' smut.

Written for two prompts from @steddiebingo Twelve Days of Christmas Mini-Event - 1) Mpreg, and 2) Morning sex.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 1,545 | Tags: Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mpreg, Come Marking, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Pregnant Sex, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington

Read on AO3

“How you feeling today, love?” Eddie asked from where he had his head buried in the back of Steve’s neck. 

Eddie had been awake for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of Steve’s body spooned against his own. He’d felt Steve slowly wake up through their mating bond, a gradual increase in his sense of Steve’s presence. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to this, to feeling Steve all the time, even when he was sleeping. 

Steve groaned in answer to Eddie’s question. “I’m still pregnant.”

Eddie rubbed his hand over Steve’s swollen belly. He was eight months along now, and his belly was gigantic. To the point where he refused to believe the repeated insistence of his doctors that he wasn’t having twins. 

“Yes, it seems you are,” Eddie replied. He nipped lightly over Steve’s mating gland. “Were you able to sleep much last night?”

Steve huffed. “No. I had to get up a million times to pee. And my back hurts. Why did I want to do this again?”

Eddie hummed sympathetically. “And this one’s just the first of six,” he teased. 

Steve elbowed him in the side. “I’ve changed my mind. This is going to be an only child.”

“That’s gonna be a real spacious Winnebago, then.”

“We’ll bring the cats.” As if on cue, Amos roused himself from where he was plastered against Steve’s chest and meowed. 

“You told me Amos gets carsick,” Eddie pointed out.

“He’ll adjust.” Steve buried his face in Amos’s fur. 

“You should get some more sleep, baby,” Eddie said. “It’s still early.”

Steve seemed like he was drifting off to sleep again when he groaned, pulling his face out of Amos’s fur. “I have to pee again.” He slowly extricated himself from Eddie’s arms and shuffled over to the en suite bathroom.

Amos moved into Steve’s warm spot, pressing himself against Eddie’s chest. “He’s coming back in, like, two minutes you know?” Eddie whispered to the cat. 

“I don’t understand how I can feel like I need to pee so bad when there’s barely even anything in there,” Steve groused from the bathroom. He walked back into the bedroom, shoving Amos out of the way as he pressed himself back into Eddie’s arms. 

“The little lady’s taking up a lot of real estate down there,” Eddie said. 

“It’s fucking rude. Now I’m wide awake. Ugh.” 

It was Saturday, and neither of them had anywhere to be. Eddie still wanted to get Steve to go back to sleep for a while. He needed it.

“Want me to rub your back?” Eddie asked.

“Yes, please,” Steve sighed. 

Eddie sat up, positioning himself behind Steve. In the past few months, he’d become a master of giving Steve back rubs while Steve laid on his side. He pulled Steve’s sleep shirt up to expose his lower back. He stroked over the warm skin there, then bent to press a light kiss to the small of Steve’s back.

Eddie pressed his thumbs into the tight muscles of Steve’s lower back, massaging firmly. Steve let out a borderline pornographic moan as Eddie deepened the massage. He could feel Steve’s relief reflecting back at him through the bond. 

He kept going, alternating deep massage with light strokes, until he noticed a change in Steve’s scent. The tell-tale hints of arousal were starting to build. He laid back down on the bed behind Steve, kissing the soft skin behind his ear. 

“Need something else now, baby?” Eddie whispered against his ear. 

Steve whimpered, nodding his head. “Yes,” he whispered back, pressing his ass against Eddie’s rapidly hardening cock.

Eddie trailed a hand over Steve’s belly down to the waistband of his pajama pants. He slid his hand in, fingers grazing Steve’s hard cock to dip into the pool of slick building between his thighs. It was a lot of slick. Steve was a very horny pregnant man.

Eddie leaned his head forward to kiss Steve as he gently stroked his fingers through the mess of slick around Steve’s folds. Steve keened into the kiss, pressing his tongue deep into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie sucked on his tongue as he wrapped his thumb and forefinger around Steve’s cock. His hand slid with ease, covered in slick now.

“Does that feel good?” Eddie asked against Steve’s mouth.

“So good,” Steve gasped, rocking his hips back to grind harder against Eddie’s cock. 

Eddie dipped his fingers back down to pet idly at Steve’s entrance. “Think my mouth would feel better?” Eddie felt a gush of slick against his fingers.

“Yessss,” Steve hissed. “I love your mouth.”

Eddie pulled his hand from Steve’s pants. He sat up, pressing Steve into the bed flat on his back. He moved down the bed and pulled Steve’s pants down as he went, throwing them to the side of the room. 

He knelt between Steve’s legs and admired the sight beneath him. Steve, with his shirt rucked up over his huge belly, legs falling open to display his adorable little cock and dripping wet cunt. Eddie could look at this all day. It was art. 

“You just going to stare at it or are you gonna do something?” Steve asked petulantly. 

Eddie laughed, smacking Steve lightly on the inside of his thigh. “Alright, big boy, I’m going in.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but a smile was twitching at the corner of his mouth. Eddie laid down between Steve’s thighs, pressing his legs further open with one hand as the other spread out his folds. Eddie licked at the folds, collecting all the slick he could as Steve started to writhe beneath him. 

Steve’s hands came to Eddie’s hair. As Eddie continued to lazily lap at his folds, Steve started to tug on his hair, directing his head up to his cock. Needy boy. But now wasn’t the time to tease him. Steve needed to get off so he could get some more sleep.

“Fingers today?” Eddie asked before he took Steve’s cock into his mouth. Penetration was touch-and-go these days. There wasn’t really enough room in there anymore for Steve to be comfortable with Eddie’s cock, but sometimes fingers were still okay.

Steve nodded. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

Eddie took Steve’s cock fully into mouth as he started to trace a finger around Steve’s entrance. Steve yelped and bucked his hips up into Eddie’s mouth. His hands were still in Eddie’s hair and he was shoving Eddie’s face onto his cock as he ground up into his mouth. Eddie loved it when Steve got horny enough to be demanding like this. He loved to feel like he was being used for Steve’s pleasure. 

“Fuck, Eddie, fuck, that’s perfect,” Steve panted. Eddie dipped a finger inside, curling it up against Steve’s g-spot. Steve moaned and continued to fuck up into Eddie’s mouth. “Fucking shit I’m gonna come so fast.” 

A few moments after he said it, Eddie felt an insane amount of slick gush out over his hand as cum flooded his mouth from Steve’s cock. He pulled his finger out but continued to suck at Steve’s cock until Steve pulled him off. 

He looked up. Steve’s face was flushed, and he looked much more relaxed than he had when they’d started. 

“Want me to suck you off?” Steve asked. But he looked exhausted. Eddie shook his head, pushing his own pants down his hips to free his cock. He gathered up more of the ample slick from around Steve’s entrance and used it to start sliding a hand up and down his cock. 

“No, baby. I’m gonna come on your pretty cunt.”

Steve moaned, and his little cock twitched. Eddie was already close. Feeling Steve come through the bond always put him dangerously close to his own orgasm. The sight of Steve looking completely fucked-out beneath him also helped. 

Eddie came after only a handful of strokes, directing his cock so the cum all spilled over Steve’s cock and cunt. He half-collapsed onto the bed, holding himself up on one hand to keep from crushing Steve. 

“That was fucking hot,” Steve said, reaching a hand down and collecting some of their combined cum and slick. He raised the hand to his mouth and licked it clean. Eddie’s cock gave a valiant twitch in his hand. 

“You’re hot,” Eddie said. Once he’d caught his breath again, he buried his face back in Steve’s cunt. Steve yelped as Eddie vigorously licked up the mess he’d left. He loved the taste of his cum mixed with Steve’s slick. It was like a fucking delicacy. 

By the time he was finished, Steve’s cock was hard again. Eddie sucked it down into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he applied firm suction, and within thirty seconds Steve was shooting off into his mouth again with his thighs clamped around Eddie’s head. 

“Fucking hell,” Steve said, slowly releasing his thighs’ grip on Eddie. “You’re a menace.” 

Eddie moved back up Steve’s body, pulling the covers over them. He maneuvered Steve back onto his side, then pulled him in to spoon against his body. “Ready to go back to sleep now?” Eddie whispered against Steve’s ear.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. Eddie could feel him already dropping off to sleep through the bond. Mission accomplished.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

[baddestbittyontheblock]

alexia putella's fic recs (2)

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

୧ alexia ficlet by @chelscait alexia putellas x reader

-alexia where reader is like a golden retriever gf. when they go to the beach alexia likes to lay out in the sun and chill but reader always tries to make the biggest sand castle and show it off to her gf or splash around in the water. sometimes alexia has to go through extreme measures just to take readers mind off the task and pay attention to her

୧ all it takes is a bet by @onlyhereforthestories alexia putellas x reader

-you weren’t a hugger, but when you did hug someone you knew that you made an impact.

୧ monthly visits by @me-loving-woso alexia putellas x reader

-in one of your monthly visits to a children’s hospital you meet ava, she is going to change your life completely.

୧ good with kids by @wordsbyrian alexia putellas x reader

-alexia and reader go to see reader family in valencia over the holiday break.

୧ to all the ones who have not been loved before by @redhairedwolfwitch alexia putellas x reader

-hearing the door open and shut near you, you continued to stare out the window instead of looking at whoever had come to check on you.

୧ broken arm by ^ alexia putellas x reader

-you break your arm on international duty and return to your club in a cast, activating your teammates' overprotective mode, but all you want is to be next to your love.

୧ an absolute mess by ^ alexia putellas x reader

-barcelona had been awarded a corner with mapi stepping up to take it. taking position ready to jump up and header the ball if it came near to you, you glanced around at your teammates before spotting how the real madrid were scattered too, ready to defend against the set piece.

୧ prior engagements by @reminiscingtonight alexia putellas x reader

-this is a bad idea. this is a really bone-headed, captain-title-revoked worthy, bad idea.

୧ the aftermath by @me-loving-woso alexia putellas x reader

-this is part 3 of monthly visits

୧ turn of the tides by @justdontaskme alexia putellas x reader

-long awaited sequel to this fic.

୧ cuando eramos niños by @footygirl114 alexia putellas x reader

-sitting on the plane to participate in your first world cup for your country was a surreal feeling, it was like nothing you have felt before. looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by you couldn’t help but take a moment to reflect on the craziness of the past year. 

୧ alexia blurb by ^ alexia putellas x reader

-get in the fucking blanket fort alexia

୧ waiting on our world to change by @cpheath alexia putellas x reader

-fluff piece

୧ lost in the dark by ^ alexia putellas x reader

-with a soft sigh you rolled over in bed, getting more and more frustrated by the second

୧ distraction by ^ alexia putellas x reader

-being awake at 2am was quickly becoming a recurring theme and you wouldn’t have been doing it for any other reason than to see your girlfriend.

୧ good girl by ^ alexia putellas x reader | mdni, 18+

-your body thrummed with pleasure while loud moans fell from your lips. fisting the sheet underneath you, you threw your body back to meet alexia's, matching her thrusts in the same way.

୧ straight. straight. straight. straight. by @hyypnotix-writes alexia putellas x reader | 10k

-the club is a disgusting little place to be. buried right in the centre of town, with drinks so extortionately expensive, they make even the cost of your london’s monthly rent, look a little reasonable.

୧ strictly unprofessional part 9 by @magicfootballstuff alexia putellas x reader

-you’ve just landed your dream job as a photographer at fc barcelona femení. the only problem? you hooked up with the captain five years ago and haven’t seen her since. Part 9/9

previous parts here.

୧ spanish girlfriends by @sweet-babyrose alexia putellas x reader

-reader moves to spain to play for fcb after college. fhe falls hard for alexia but assumes alexia and jenni are together. 

୧ it was only a matter of time, ficlet 1 by @putellas14 alexia putellas x reader

-if you haven't read it was only a matter of time yet, it's highly encourage you to read that first.

୧ contract negotiations by @outsideratheart alexia putellas x reader

-throughout the season you have some pretty amazing games but no matter what, your favourite is always the last home game of the season.

୧ play nice by ^ alexia putellas x reader

-you knew facing alexia would be difficult but you didn’t realise that watching her win the world cup final would bring out a side of you that you would be ashamed of. seeing her win the very thing you worked so hard for filled you with envy even though you know that she deserved it. 

୧ new team mate by ^ alexia putellas x reader

-lyon was your home and everybody knew it. you chose the team over staying in the states, going to college and over your family so when it was reported that you didn’t show up for training and that you wasn’t playing in games, the whole world noticed. 

୧ history by ^ alexia putellas x reader

-there was a lot of history behind el classico and over the last couple of years the women’s game became just as highly anticipated as then mens.

୧ useless by @gagmewitha-spork alexia putellas x reader

-mutual pining with a splash of awkward flirting and alba being absolutely done with alexia’s gay panic. plus ballon d’or fabulousness.

୧ alexia ficlet by @cee-jay-engwnt alexia putellas x reader

-spending time with ale, alba and eli on the boat

୧ she (PART 1). by @walesfootball alexia putellas x reader

-you and alexia have been friends for a few years. you’d met when you worked a summer job in barcelona’s kit department.

୧ against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part one by @thesunisatangerine  alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

-the thing was, you didn’t plan on getting laid tonight.

୧ against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part two by ^ alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader | implied sexual content

-you weren’t sure what woke you at first but when you opened your eye.

୧ watch it by @fanfics-posts alexia putellas x reader | 1.8k

-reader is only a little pregnant and still playing matches but no one knows yet and she goes down from a bad tackle and alexia gets really worried and protective?

୧ off limits by @wileys-russo alexia putellas x leon!reader

-reader is one of the barcelona teammates sister and her and alexia start sneaking around. r sister finds out and is extremely angry for whatever reason and it forces alexia to break up with her. r gets extremely emotional and at training she starts becoming really distracted.

୧ distraction by ^ alexia putellas x reader

-alexia distracting her gf with neck kisses when she’s trying to study or work but Alexia just wants her attention

୧ lipstick stains by ^ alexia putellas x reader | fluff

-a fic for alexia where she tries to get reader to do her makeup for her for events and alexia always distracts her bc of how close they are. After putting on the lipstick alexia always kisses and leaves lipstick stains on reader and smudging it so reader has to keep reapplying it

୧ 1v1 by @desperate-gay alexia putellas x fem!reader | fluff, mostly consists of the interview, not proof read like always

-you join your uswnt teammate, kelley o’hara, in her 1v1 interview

୧ a betrayal by @patriwoso alexia putellas x reader

୧ la princesa by @ellatoone7 alexia putellas x reader

-reader and her are married and R is pregnant and is going through pregnancy and Alexia cares for her

୧ Sometimes the Smallest Things Take Up the Most Room in Our Heart -- Part 3 by @catmiemy alexia putellas x reader

-part 1, part 2

୧ Bruises, Apologies and Cookies? by @me-loving-woso alexia putellas x reader

-you start to hook up with alexia, but then you realise you aren't meant to play against one another.

୧ humming helps pt:2 by @futbol16 mapi's little sister!reader x alexia

-reader has problems falling asleep, sometimes so she sneaks into mapis room in the middle of the night (reader does not want to bother her roommate Alexia). someday alexia finds out that reader often sneak out at night and invites reader to sleep in bed with her. Just pure fluff of alexia x reader being in love. Part 1 stay put. Part 3 mi corazón

୧ mi corazon by ^ mapi's little sister!reader x alexia | angst, fluff

-mapi’s little sister is also on the team and usually pranks the girls during games. when its her on the ground after a clash with the keeper, mapi and engen + the other girls think its a joke, alexia from the sidelines notices and even injured and on the bench is the one letting out the screaming and the one rushing to her aid and turning her on her back and saving y/n from choking. mapi feels terrible, so do others

୧ mama by @desperate-gay alexia putellas x female!reader | worried ale, stressed ale, fluff, blurb

-alexia is already becoming a protective mama

୧ bad humor by @alexiabae alexia putellas x fem!reader | mention of accident car, fluff

-in which reader goes to england to watch a match between spain against germany.

[hocuspocusbabyy]

A little Ficlet from my archive of wlw… first time posting my Melissa content!

A breath of fresh air:

“You’re Jacobs aunt and the new French teacher at Abbott Elementary, Melissa and you bond over shared cigarettes and vices.”

Melissa stood next to her car facing the fence, away from Ava who was contently giggling at whatever stupid video she and Jacob were watching. She didn't see why Barbra had to banished her to the far side of the school for wanting one bloody cigarette.

Mel huffed trying to get her lighter to work from her spot behind the shed as she looked around, the empty streets dimly lit by the lamp lights bounding off the metal fence. It dawned on her that she was alone out in the Abbott Parking lot. Everyone else having escaped inside from the cold.

'What you doing over here all by yourself?' A familiar voice called, startlingly elegant the remittance of France still present within the dentals of her accent.

Melissa felt all the hairs stand on the back of her neck. The teacher whirled around to face them, the woman that had been giving her heart palpitations and a mega lady boner since the moment she’d arrived at Abbott four months ago.

Jacob’s Aunt, Jacob’s young, very attractive aunt - who was nearly fifteen years younger than her.

'Needed one,' Mel smirked awkwardly, holding up her unlit cigarette. 'Just can't seem to...' she gave her lighter a few flicks for effect, but it was futile.

'Here." Y/N produced a lighter and lit the flame, as Mel gratefully leaned forward and sucked on her cigarette until it caught.

'Thanks,' the redhead replied, finally feeling the blessed burn as the smoke hit her throat.

'So,' Y/n remarked, ashing her own cigarette, 'Jacob tells me you're a real Lotario.'

Mel looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. 'Who’s that?'

Y/n smirked. 'A slut, basically.'

The redhead grinned at Y/n 'Damn, you've just going call me out like that Hill?"

Y/N took another drag and smirked. 'So it's true then? You just go with a lot of men?'

'Go? As in a date? Nah, It's like, I've don’t take anyone out to the movies or shit like that, none since I was married… even when I was married.’ She shrugs inhaling again, ‘just kinda go with the flow,’ There’s an emphasis on that last part.

‘Everyone got a vice.' Y/n concurs. 'I for one have always enjoyed the pleasures of my fellow feminine species.” - how very French Melissa thought.

Y/n leaned against the wall alongside the teacher. 'I don't mind the company of women either. Never have.'

Y/n raised an eyebrow. 'Really?'

'Is that so surprising? An old gal like me chasing skirt?”

Y/n laughed aloud taking another drag of their cigarette, smiling appreciatively. 'So crude Schemmenti.”

Melissa made an acknowledging sound stubbing out her cigarette as you continued, ‘so what is your vice then?" Y/n asked, watching the Italian woman with interest.

"Work." Mel deadpanned.

"There are worse things to be addicted to I suppose" Y/n shrugged throwing down her cigarette and stepping it out.

"Yeah, but being addicted to sex sounds much more fun" Mel commented, smirking as she swore the woman beside her blushed.

"You know Janine and Gregory are definitely going to hook up”

Mel gave a disbelieving tisk, not wanting to give away her friend and colleagues years in the making relationship. "What makes you think that Frenchie?”

'Come on,' Y/n replied, placing a hand on her hip, 'Have you looked at them? It's bound to happen. I can't quite put my finger on it but I know there's something there.' Y/n continued, her eyes narrowing. 'There was this sort of connection between them the moment they laid eyes on one another. It's been a tumultuous back and forth ever since, someone you can’t falsify.’ Her gaze lingered upon the Italian, the soft curve of her hips as the lay push against the brick. Full and decadent. An essence to their words that did not reflect or belong to Gregory and Janine at all.

'I suppose you may have a point.'

'If they're not shagging now then they will be, I just know it.’

“Not who’s crude.” Mel joked, a dazing full smile lay upon her features.

Y/n simply shrugged. 'I only hope Jacob catches on and finds someone too, at least so he won't turn out a spinster like her aunt.'

‘Oh come on’ the redhead sniggered, ‘you a spinster? How ridiculous. You’re far too young and gorgeous to be referred to in such a way.’

‘You don't believe me? all my relationships have ended in utter failure because I am reserved to becoming an old spinster,' Y/n sighed dejectedly, dramatically. 'Perhaps I should just accept my fate and adopt a bunch of cats.'

Mel smirked, a little laugh escaping her lips as he turned to Y/n if you wanted to play coy, she’d take the bait. ‘Look I don't know much but I do know, no matter when or how it happens, you just gotta be open to it,' she whispered, ‘and when you've done that, well maybe then you can get some cats.’

Y/n looked at Melissa for a good long moment, letting what she had just said sink in. After a bit, she nodded in agreement before revealing a sly look.

‘You think I’m gorgeous?’

‘Caught that did you?’ Melissa shook her head, flashed a charming grin, ‘besides I'm sure even old spinsters get a good fuckin' every once in a while."

‘Oh sure. I'm sure I'll be able to fit in a good rendezvous or two between all the cat feedings.’ Y/n delighted, their bottom lip curling upon their teeth.

‘Yeah, see, there you go,’ Mel laughed. ‘I'd definitely wanna show a fine cat lady like you a good time.’

Y/n found herself grinning, and looked down shyly. Maybe she was lying a little, plenty of people flirted with her, but never any as spectacular as this particularly teacher. What was a white lie in favour of a future?

Y/n turned towards Mel reaching out and grasping her wrist, taking her other hand and idly drawing circles in the Italian’s palm. 'Is that an offer?'

Melissa gave another, surprisingly nervous laugh, smile brilliant and charming. 'Well that depends on your answer Frenchie.’

Y/n hummed as if she were contemplating what they were going to do. When really she was just trying to contain her excitement because holy shit Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti was going to kiss her.

No time for nerves Hill.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as the redhead stepped in front of her, moving in close. Y/n bit her lip, holding in a gasp as she felt tender fingertips and a set of perfectly manicured nails just barely graze the soft and sensitive skin beneath her left eye. A hot palm pushing against her skin, brushing away her hair and pulling in. Y/n needed bit down harder to prevent a gleeful shout from escaping as strong hands grasped into her hair.

There was a moment, a bare seconds, void of anything other than the woman before her. Vision becoming little but hues of red remittent of Italian soils that Y/n would gladly be lay to rest in. The soft apex of the teachers lips falling down upon her own, moving in a perfectly smooth motion.

Melissa Schemmenti’s lips could only be found among worldly things, the simplest of pleasures. Between old library pages, morning rain and bath water as it fizzled down a drain. A kiss worthy of its benefactor, a kiss she couldn’t help but reach up and steal again. A rememberable of smoke thick upon their teeth, as they devoured one another.

[v3nomly]

「 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞. 」

꒰characters...꒱ Astarion x Reader

꒰summary...꒱ It's been a long journey, and you find yourself with proper lodgings for the first time in weeks. As well as an opportunity for a tender moment with Astarion.

꒰warnings...꒱You give astarion a handjob.

꒰a/n..꒱Like the slut I am I couldn't stop thinking about Astarion, so here's a short and sweet soft moment. Enjoy this short ficlet while I procrastinate my longfic!

The smell of lavender and lemon hung in the steamy air of the room. A haze of mist collected on the small but ornate window veiling the otherwise bright moonlight. Leaving you to bask in the flickering candlelight, its warm orange flame casting a faint glow onto the normally pallid vampire's face. Astarion hummed as you brushed the plush rag across his skin. Crimson splotches stain his pale skin, like jewels on a nobleman. A king bathed in red, ruthless and victorious.

Slowly you work, removing each blemish, until the visage of the man underneath you is unmarred. The evidence of the day's events washed away, leaving you two in a welcomed reprieve. A comfortable limbo between the dusk of today and the dawn of tomorrow. Astarion's eyes slid shut, leaning into your touch. It was moments like these that you cherished, moments where he allowed himself the comforts of affection. You drop the rag outside of the tub, before returning your hands, fingertips ghosting over his face, across his lips, and down his neck. Only halting once your fingers had found their home, threaded into his thick, curly locks.

"Everything okay?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper, not quite ready to disturb the peace that had fallen over you, but unwilling to let him simmer in whatever thought ran rampant in his head. Astarion opened his eyes only partially. Allowing you the faintest glimpse of his entrancing ruby irises. His plush pink lips part his mind working between a sarcastic quip and the truth. Before his words fall into the latter.

"Ruminating," he responds, his brows furrowing, as if the honesty distresses him. He inclines his head, causing your fingers to slip from the tresses, His eyes opened, a softer look to them than what you'd normally see in camp.

It seems the closer you got to Cazador the more Astarion pulled away. A far-off look in his eyes in the moments of calm. Or a near-nervous energy veiled by the excitement that surrounded him during a fight. Then there were these moments spent with you. Where he allowed himself to be more truthful than he had been in a long time. Still, he made an effort, against all odds, against the very fiber of his being. He never hid away from you.

You lean forward, lips brushing over Astarion's jaw. Causing his arms to tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. The bubbly water sloshes with the movement, threatening to spill over the wood of the tub. "You deserve peace," you say lips connecting with his skin, as if solidifying your words. Moving to the other side, you repeat the action, "You deserve happiness." You move to his lips, hands capturing his face in such a gentle embrace that he questions if you are real. "Astarion?" you call softly, afraid that he's drifted back into his thoughts.

He lifts his hand, water falling from his fingers, and for a moment he hesitates. Astarion had never questioned something as simple as running his fingers through a partner's hair, but with you, the action felt different, more important. "I'm here," he responds, fingers carding through your hair. His nose nuzzles against your own, a comfort you've grown used to. A simple yet, intimate mannerism he's picked up since confessing that he had grown to care for you.

Even now, when his mind slips into thoughts of the past or whatever turbulent future lies before him. Astarion moves to reassure you because while he'll never admit it out loud, his eyes scream the answer. 'I don't deserve comfort. I don't deserve love. I don't deserve you.' Your heart aches, practically shattering each time the look makes it past his perfectly crafted mask.

"Let me take care of you," a silent plea, his lips part, as if surprised that someone would ever wish to do such a thing, and he nods once as if speaking would rouse him from this dream.

Gently you push Astarion back. His body shifted to bask in the bath once more, shoulders pressed against the rim of the wood, arms placed to brace himself on each side of the tub.

Your fingers dance down his chest, playful and teasing. Under the water, they maintain their path across his stomach, over the defined lines of his navel.

His dead heart skipped a beat, his eyes filled with anticipation.

Your hand wraps around his aching cock, so gently as if he might just break, and with you maybe he would. His head fell back as the motion of your hand slowly stroked him. Astarion's chest hurt, with a peculiar kind of happiness. Each tender moment with you —the ones where you touched him as a lover deserving and worthy of affection— wanes the pains of his past only slightly, but still enough for him to grow into someone new.

"What about you?" he asks, voice filled with hesitancy, a vulnerability that he seldom allows even you to see. As if the idea of not proving his worth remains a truly foreign concept.

"Your pleasure is my pleasure," you watch as Astarion's mind works through his thoughts.

"In that case who am I to complain," his words are meant in jest, but you've known him long enough—intimately enough— to know exactly what he means. It is distinct in the way that his muscles relax and his fingers untense from the tub's frame. Astarion trusts you and even if he dare not affirm it aloud —in fear of ruining everything— maybe he's allowed himself to love you.

© 2023 v3nomly do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.

[merrybloomwrites]

Spencer Agnew - My Favorite Pizza Oven

Summary: Spencer and Y/N spend a weekend babysitting Courtney and Shayne's son.

Word Count: 728

AN: Welcome to the first of 9 weeks of ficlets! Come back every Thursday for a little fic of Reader x Smosh! Most are Spencer x Reader but there will be a couple Ian x Reader and Damien x Reader as well!

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

When Courtney came up to you and asked if you and Spencer could watch her and Shayne’s son for a couple nights so they could go on vacation you immediately said yes. 

“Shouldn’t you check if Spencer is on board?” She asked. 

“Trust me, he’ll be on board,” you replied. You and your boyfriend had watched Ryan for a night a few months ago. Spencer had been asking for weeks when you thought the two of you might be able to babysit again. 

“Thank you so much! I’ll text you with the details.”

“Perfect! I’m looking forward to it!” 

“That’s because he’s always a little angel for Auntie Y/N and Uncle Spencer,” she said. 

“Because we absolutely spoil him and say yes to pretty much whatever he wants,” you replied with a laugh. “It’s our right as aunt and uncle!” You add and she conceded, joining in on your laughter. 

Later that night, when you filled Spencer in on your conversation with Courtney he got super excited and started listing all the activities he was hoping to do throughout the weekend with Ryan.

You just listened and sighed, hoping Spencer would behave and you wouldn’t have to rein in two excitable children. 

A couple days before your babysitting duties were set to begin, you and Spencer made a trip to Target after work to stock up on a few things for your home. You’d split up, wanting to get done quickly since it was getting late.

You always worry a bit about sending Spencer out on his own, never knowing what he’ll return with, and your fears are often valid. This time was no exception.

When you met back up, he was carrying a basket with the items on his list, as well as a Play Doh pizza oven set. 

“Are you thinking of getting into crafting now?” you asked, skeptically eyeing the item.

“It’s for Ryan!” he replied. “Shayne said he’s really into play-doh lately so I thought he might enjoy it. And I figured coming in with a new toy might help him be excited for a weekend with us, rather than sad that his parents are leaving.”

“That’s a really good idea,” you replied. You gave Spencer a fond look, as you’re reminded once again how thoughtful this man is. Even after years together you continue to fall more in love with him. Even while standing in the middle of a Target on a Wednesday night.

Two days later you arrived at Shayne and Courtney’s home with your overnight bags, prepared for a weekend of babysitting. Courtney went over all the instructions again, and finally you sent the two on their way to enjoy some time alone. 

As predicted, Ryan was a bit upset seeing his mom and dad leave, but Spencer quickly stepped in and showed him the new toy. It worked like a charm, and the two boys made lots of creations together.

Even better was the moment when dinner arrived. After making plenty of pretend pizzas, Ryan was ecstatic to see they’d be eating real pizza for dinner too! 

The weekend went smoothly, and that plastic pizza oven went everywhere Ryan went. Including the playground. He was truly obsessed. 

“I love this pizza oven!” he exclaimed during breakfast Sunday morning. “It’s my favorite!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he reminded you so much of his dad in that moment. You had come up with a plan, a perfect way for Ryan to greet his parents when they got back home. 

A couple hours later, when Courtney and Shayne walked in the front door, Ryan had run up to them, new toy in hand.

“Hey buddy! I missed you,” Shayne said, hugging his son tight. “What’s that you got there?”

“It’s from Auntie Y/N and Uncle Spencer! It’s my favorite pizza oven!” All the adults began to laugh, as Ryan practically quoted one of his father's most famous lines.

Later that night, when you and Spencer were back home having dinner, you couldn’t help but think back on the weekend, and how wonderful your boyfriend was with the little guy. Your mind imagined what your future will be like, when you and Spencer have a little one of your own. One look at him told you he was thinking the same thing, and you knew you’d picked a good one.

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AN: Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and can't wait to share more with you!

[sordidmusings]

Welcome🤍

Thank you for stopping by my blog! I hope you enjoy the clown show lol right now I'm keeping this chatty section real sparse to get this out but hoping to make it (and this whole list) more robust and comprehensive with time! One of the first things on the list is to have fic summaries instead of just titles and better formatting for multiple parts. At least this works atm haha For now, just know this is both a sfw and nsfw blog and nsfw will be tagged with #thirst hours

I hope the reading guides you on good daydreams and fantasies 💜

Daily click for Palestine

NSFW ☄️

Fluff 🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑 Angst (how much easy vs. harsh emotion)

AU 🪐

Non-canon elements in focus ✨

Tender Love and Care

Hair Care 🌖 Massage 🌖 Part 1 Part 2 and Part 3 - Coming Soon

Switching Up Roles 🌕☄️ Part 1 and Part 2

Loose Lips

Thirsty Thursdays ☄️

With Pissed Off Buggy With Lucky Brat Buggy With Insecure Buggy

Comforting His Partner on Their Looks 🌕

Age Gap Headcanons 🌕

Punk Buggy with a Tongue Piercing☄️ - Riff off of @hey-august's wonderful Punk Buggy

Let Go and Grip Me Tighter 🌖☄️

Fixing What Ifs 🌗

Well Earned Praise 🌕

How He Deals with Falling in Love 🌕

Jealousy Ficlet 🌕

Hickey Headcanons 🌕

Thirsty Thursday

The Hat Stays ON

Fireside 🌖 - coming soon

Bonding Exercises ☄️ - coming soon

Jealousy Ficlet 🌕

How to Break Rules 🌖

Jealousy Ficlet 🌕

Hickey Headcanons 🌕

Give (In) and Take (Me) ☄️

The Wrong Rest 🌑

Across the Great Divide 🌘 - Coming Soon

These Hoes Depressed 🌖 - Coming Soon

Brushing Souls 🌕✨

You've warned him just as much as the others how intimate and overwhelming it feels to touch another soul. Still, he's intrigued. Over time you've come to trust him enough to give him a taste of the soul magic of your home and he immediately accepts, equal parts eager and nervous. Nothing you said prepared him for all he feels at simply being surrounded by You. ~3.8k

Coronary Tale 🌗✨

Face Sitting ☄️

Hickey Headcanons 🌖

Eventually this will mean poly BUT for now it is where headcanons with LOTS of characters are until I have more fics under more characters (so Its not just a fuckload of headers all with the same fic under them lol)

Cuddling Headcanons 🌕 Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men (Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk)

Cuddling Ficlets 🌕 Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men

X Marine Reader Headcanons - Coming Soon

Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men

Bonus Characters (Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid, Killer, Sir Croc, Doffy)

Sweetly Scented Secrets 🌕✨

These are ones I add to and build off of instead of it being just something for a one-shot. Currently a placeholder but wanna get posting for these soon! Gotta organize the massive thought dumps I have down first lol

Modern AU (Coney Island inspired)

Hybrid AU

ABO AU

On Their Feet - current priorities (Most have coming soon and up on Masterlist to kick my ass into gear atm lol)

Lifeline - in brain and touching on

Purgatory - letting them happen when they happen

Hell - uncertain if they will ever happen 💀

Random ass shit that doesn't have a spot yet wHOOPS

Now and For Always - One Piece Rendition

Andddd a reminder to myself to possibly link sketches eventually andjkjaskda

Enjoy the hot mess in progress LOL

[zepskies]

Hey Zepskies! I'm a small writer but I'm starting on my ficlet about an oc x ben (soldier boy). I've read so much of your work and just think you are a very talented writer. Do you have any tips on writing ben? it can be vague and I know you're busy so I don't expect a response. :)

Hey there!

First off, welcome and thank you for reading my stories (and for that lovely compliment). 💕

As for your question, writing Soldier Boy (Ben) can be very tricky. It took me a while to fully figure out how to write the character, and I will say, it's a challenge every time I do dive back into this (loveable) asshole.

😂 That said, here are 3 main tips I have for writing his character:

1. Comparable archetypes:

When I started trying to do a character analysis of this guy, I started with who he would've likely looked up to and tried to emulate: Frank Sinatra, Humphrey Bogart, Cary Grant, John Wayne, Indiana Jones, John Winchester, and even Dean Winchester to an extent -- the strong, stoic, man of action archetype.

AKA: The Big Swinging Dick™️ in the Room.

These men are leaders, a "man's man," show no pain, weakness, or vulnerability. (So shove those "soft" emotions down your gullet as much as humanly possible. Real men don't cry, amirite? 🙄)

But the fun thing I find about guys like this is, even though they have a hard shell, being able to pierce the armor somehow and get to the creamy center of their heart can be a very rewarding story indeed.

2. The balance of SB's personality:

Based on what we got in season 3 of The Boys, I find that Soldier Boy's personality is a delicate balance of a few key things:

Arrogant Narcissist: He's a massive ego, selfish with a conflated sense of his own importance. Especially before his capture, he's reached the pinnacle of fame. He's bought into his own hype and the backstory Vought created for him, and he assumes that everyone in his life loves him for it.

As Jensen said of his character in Supes Ain't Always Heroes (check out my review of the book here if you like):

“He’s so fragile and his ego is fragile. Just like Homelander. These bigger-than-life powerful heroes really have a glass jaw… “And everyone walks on eggshells around him [Soldier Boy], and they tell him that they love him, and it’s the same with Homelander. Then when all of a sudden he faces his old team and Crimson Countess says we never loved you, we hated you—that’s a gut punch for him. Because even though on some level he may have known that, he never thought he would hear it. “And he probably propped himself up around trying to believe otherwise, because how can you walk around knowing everyone you’ve ever cared about hates you? It’s too painful.” (191)

Womanizing Misogynist: That entire scene with SB and Grace in Nicaragua tells you all you need to know about how Soldier Boy talks to, treats, and views women. 🙄 Again, he's a narcissist, so he assumes women are going to be into him because he's the world's biggest superhero, because he's handsome, because he's that guy.

The problem is, he is devastatingly handsome and impressive as a superhero. And my headcanon is he can be very charming when he wants to be. Again, using his skills as an actor and channelling that old-world debonair charm to get what he wants. (i.e. Cary Grant, etc.)

Violent and Indifferent to Collateral Damage: This is a key one, because this is part of what makes him different from Homelander. SB is not a psychopath. He doesn't necessarily enjoy hurting people. He just doesn't care about the collateral damage.

He also can't tolerate a perceived slight to his masculinity or status, like when Black Noir tried to rise up in the ranks and come into his own as a movie star. Soldier Boy, in his selfishness, saw that as Noir trying to come for his crown, in a sense, which is why he ultimately showed his mean streak through violence.

When he gets back to the U.S. after escaping Russia, he's on a warpath of vengeance against his team who sold him out, and anyone who gets in his way.

"If they have it coming," he tells Hughie.

3. Soldier Boy is both less and more than what he represents: (AKA: His insecurities)

As we know, Soldier Boy didn't really storm Normandy or fight the Nazis. He falls short of every definition of a hero. However, he's also not just a caricature of toxic masculinity.

Ben has deep-seated insecurities that he buries under all the bravado and the Soldier Boy persona. He was also emotionally abused by his father, who set exacting standards for what it meant to be a man.

It drives Ben to try and prove his worth to his father, though he’s never able to. It fosters the lack of self-worth he feels as he seeks validation through fame and what he believes power to be.

He won’t be one to easily admit he’s wrong, or need help, or express emotions he deems are “soft.” He doesn’t want to look weak or demean himself, let alone be genuinely vulnerable, despite likely wanting that connection with someone.

He uses coping mechanisms like drugs to mask and dull his PTSD, but even in his heyday, I think he drugs and parties hard just to pass the time, and to mask how actually empty he is inside. He has no real love in his life, and no family. It's why he admits to Hughie that he wanted kids. Deep down, he wants a family to fill that void that fame, booze, drugs, and meaningless sex can't fill in his life.

So with all of that flawed, internal mess that is Soldier Boy, the biggest challenge I find as a romance writer is trying to keep all of these aspects of his character, while trying to show the glimmers of the humanity in Ben -- the chink in his armor showing just enough softness to the one person who's brave enough to "try" with him.

That said, I hope all of this helps! 💚

[snarky-wallflower]

Guided To His Place

Word Count: 1584 AO3 Inspired by my friend @its-short-for-jackalope's art, which can be found here! Also by my friend @midnightnautilus, whose ficlet can be found here. I found Samuel's arc truly beautiful, and as much as I'm devastated he's gone? I wanted to write my own send off to him, as someone who deeply related to him. I hope you all enjoy it.

Samuel Stratford lies in the grass, the softness of it comforting his back. It's twilight, sweet and true all around him. A peace settles in him, as he looks up at the stars. Shining, brilliant and bright, reminders of home. The stars are familiar, even in this strange place. Shining starlight, up in the sky once more. This place, the end. The place he appeared, once he awakened from his final choice.

He's wandered throughout it as much as he can - recognizing the Paper Stand, the Township, even the Ellen Austin and Lincoln Island. Places he loved, places he made an impact. A place where his story unfolded, now a place for him to walk and discover.

Their echoes.  Now, he rests. It's a strange sensation, being alone. He doesn't know if he'll ever grow used to it. He spots familiarity up in that glimmering cacophony of stars, and feels his shoulders relax. He glows the same as those stars now, golden and warm against the cool night. 

Above him is the Sagitta. Rose, Samuel, Margaret and John. The closest he has come to seeing his friends, his sister. Those stars Rose had named after the four of them, up in the sky. Separated, unable to reunite. Above him, the Satellite, shining out protectively into the dark. A guiding light home. That beauty he laid so many bricks to help create, helping to bring people home.

It's not the true stars or Satellite, of course. But it's still a reminder that his friends are out there, finding their way. He thinks that's still something real, in a way.

A cloak of grief and love covers his heart, as a lump forms in his throat. It's a strange mixture, those feelings, yet they still hold true. He's cried so much since he made his choice. Even now, they start to softly drip down his cheeks, as he thinks of teasing Rose at the Paper Stand, quietly talking with John about the weight of a legacy, of rejoicing with Margaret as she turned that wood to gold, so incredibly proud of her. Masterpieces of memories, fortunate to have ever have made them. They fill him with pride and fondness, rippling through his veins like that starlight across the sky, the love he holds tight to his chest.

John, the man who started as an icon, who became someone Samuel could speak to about his fears of not being enough. Who understood Samuel when he said he still had so far to go. Who Samuel watched choose creativity, becoming more wild and free.

Margaret, his friend, that one who enchanted him with what lived inside her. Her quiet resolve, her determination to find her answers, her own kind of masterpiece. One who he found trust with again, who forgave him for what he had done. Who he spoke and spoke with, trying to build back that original connection once more. Helping her find her way. 

Rose, the one he would have been lost without. The one person Samuel thinks he knows better than he knows himself. The bravest, the best person he knows. Her sheer resolve to make her own legacy, to accomplish whatever she set her mind to. The first person he ever dreamed with, who was the one who reached out with him to find a world that was more than this. 

Memories are what he has in this after, and he thinks of them often. Living in the echoes he made with those he loved so dearly.

There's a peace in his choice, though. Samuel knows it was the only choice he ever could have made. His friends will go on without him. His life was worth them getting to live, to continue their journeys. He acted like the man in his dreams, accomplished great things in the end. There is no greater thing he could have done than make sure that the family he built in brick carried on. 

But, still... "I miss you." His voice is quiet. He misses them so badly that it aches. He could write and write and write, and it would still never come close to capturing the loss that he carries with him now.

But they must go on without him. This is what sacrifice means. It's a sacrifice he cannot ever bring himself to regret. Not when it means that those he loves--John, Margaret, Rose--live on. He did this for them. He would do this for them over and over. He wasn't afraid at the end, no longer needed direction. He knew what needed to happen. In no universe would he have held back from what needed to be done. He saved them, making his final impact.  "I love you." It's easy, to say those words. Reliving those memories, that started all with his notebook. Those connections--those people he holds so dear. His hand reaches out to the stars. Connecting the four of them with his finger, holding their memories and stories in his mind. He's always been a storyteller, after all--that certainly will not stop now. He tells their stories, if only to himself. A fond smile crosses his face, as he feels warm air swoop across his face. He can almost picture them beside him--but only just. 

The world is silent.

It's only Samuel and the stars, at the end of infinity.

A quiet sigh leaves Samuel's mouth, feeling that kaleidoscope of stars all around.

This is a moment, all his own.

Then, a buzz, just above him. He draws his head up, to see an intricately carved box, humming with its own sort of blue-green glow. It's mahogany, the buttons and knobs near the top standing proud and strong. It's near his height, mere inches shorter. He lets out a laugh, recognizing the radio--for that is what she's called--that first and only other being here. He moves to get a better look at her, the other storyteller here. He'd like to call her a peer.  MAIA.  Elation and fear runs through him, as he realises what's happening. "Oh." She does not often call. There's only one reason she's come to his side. "It's time, isn't it?" MAIA lets out a short buzz. An affirmation.  Samuel breathes in. Breathes out. He gets to his feet, feeling the grass shift around him. He rolls back his shoulders, steadying himself.

Once on his feet, he places a hand on MAIA's top.  "Take me there?"  

She lets out another buzz, and-- In a flash, Samuel's no longer in the grass. Instead, he stands in a small room. Marigold-yellow wallpaper covers every wall. A green, plush chair is in one side of the room, with MAIA now rests next to that chair. On her top, now, a vase of roses. Soft blue carpet covers the floor, as a small table holds issues of what he knows to be the Sun. He picks one up and idly flips through it, laughing at the words he wrote with Rose in what feels like so long ago. His journal, a recreation of it, sits besides one of those issues. Trinkets, some he thinks Rose would have loved, strewn across the room.

MAIA starts to hum, a signal. She's picking up on the next story to share.  He's almost nervous.

But why should he be?

They know where to find me. 

Samuel feels a swell of pride, of trust in his friends.  There's agony in no longer being there for them, of course. He thinks he will always feel that pain. There is a part of him that is terrified to listen, to hear exactly what his choice did to his family. That is terrified to hear Rose's grief, the final Stratford still on Earth. His sister, without him. 

But they will persevere.

They always have, and he knows they are strong enough to keep on moving. Margaret, with her quiet inner strength and belief. John with his understanding of the weight of a legacy. Rose, who has survived so much already, his sister who he knows better than anyone else. His harbour in a storm, who will now live on without him. She has people other than him to lean on now, and he prays that will be enough.  They will be enough for each other. They have each other, even without him. They've built their family - and Samuel knows that it will hold fast against the shadows ahead. 

He had always been the storyteller before. The one who wanted so badly to convert passion to action. But now? 

"Tell me how it ends?" 

MAIA buzzes, a unspoken of course. So, Samuel settles in, sitting in the comfortable chair beside her. He can feel warmth exuding from him, something ghostly and true. He leans in, placing his hand on his cheek.  "Rose, Margaret, John..." he muses, "l know you can do this. You're capable of everything. You were worth the world. Protect each other, for me?" He knows they cannot hear him. But he says it anyways, keeping them in his heart. Speaking out to the stars.

A voice starts to play through MAIA's speaker, the blue-golden glow shining across the room, a mixture of Samuel and MAIA's combined light. A sweet tune sounds off before it, a opening of a curtain. Their stories go on, even without him. Samuel smiles.  He's ready. "Somewhere between the comforts of the familiar and the precipice of the unknown, an orchestra performs a score written in stardust..."

[natalievoncatte]

This isn’t another Supercorp ficlet, though I may do one soon.

I’m going to get political. I’m sorry, but I need to vent. If that’s not for you, I’m going to put a “read more” cut before I start my rant.

I’m not going to do that because I’m worried about being offensive. I think most of the people who enjoy 547 short stories about the same blonde and brunette yearning for each other would probably agree with me on all of this.

I’m putting it below the cut because some people have a limited bandwidth for dealing with politics, culture, etc, and that’s okay and needs to be okay. We can’t all be warriors 24/7.

Rant starts now.

I watched a movie tonight where one of the main characters is clearly gay and quickly develops a teenage infatuation with a member of the same sex/gender and this dynamic drives the plot in a classic star-crossed teen lovers story angle.

I went to view online discussions about it and of course the first comment thread I find on social media is full of hate and vitriol.

The chuds all the same thing: “stop sexualizing them”.

A QUEER ROMANCE IS NO MORE “SEXUAL” THAN A STRAIGHT ONE.

Depicting a boy falling in love with a boy or a girl falling in love with a girl is no more “sexual” than depicting the same thing with opposite gender/sex characters.

Implying that any queer romance is innately “sexual” in some dangerous/perverse/exploitative way is absolutely 100% homophobic and needs to stop.

Crying that “two women can’t be friends in a movie anymore” when historians and journalists try to declare actual queer relationships “just friends” is homophobic and needs to stop.

Queer youth aren’t fucking monsters for existing and adults aren’t monsters for treating their feelings as real.

The monsters are the “youth pastors”, cops, ministers, businessmen, doctors, and other patriarchal predators who call love a sin while they molest and abuse and torture and drive kids to suicide.