#i don't exactly want my ao3 public i guess
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Hi, it's May 2023 now time rly does fly fast huh? I still re-read TRA bec it's my comfort fic. Anyway i hope you're doing well and still having amazing sex lol! I miss hearing bout ur seggs stories and just ur life updates. I hope one day if by chance u can still open this acc, and you'll see our positive messages ahhh! tysm for writing tra really. Every year i still send you an ask it's pathetic jshdhd but i miss you sm my fave writer but I hope u're well, happy and healthy! 💜 it's been what 4 or 5 years but i still won't give up hope that u'll update us someday even if it's just a life update huhueee im just so thankful u wrote tra. And i truly miss you xx take care always!
oh boy so hi i don't even know how many years its been at this point but this message just really warmed my heart and i thought you were owed at least a response!!! thank you so so so much for this kind message. you guys have been getting after me ever since i left and trust me i see every message but i just didn't know what to say? i don't even know how many of you remember me or will even see this. im sorry for that. god i can't believe its been that long. i don't know if ill ever update tra. i really intended to finish and hoped having beta readers would help but.... i think i had left the fandom at that point so it was hard to put myself back in that same space. i really want to say how i intended for it to end but there is a part of me that hopes to finish it. i just don't know when that'll be, if I even decide to. but i've been getting back into writing lately but I post on ao3 now!!! if u guys are at all interested I could answer messages privately? anyway I hope ur doing well too whoever u are and i appreciate u from the bottom of my heart!!!!!! thank you so much for your patience
#i don't exactly want my ao3 public i guess#maybe it doesn't really matter lol#but just know that i re-read tra from time to time#sometimes i cringe#sometimes i finish the fourth chapter and im like#where's the rest of it??? lmao#so i totally understand the frustration#i would Love to finish the story but i just no longer feel inspired by it i guess#this was back when smut was really just exploring for me#i had no idea how to write kissing scenes so i was like#why not just skip straight to sex bc that makes sense#like i said i still write but its much more slow burn#i am Pretty Sure i wrote the first chapter of tra when i was still a virgin#maybe thats a lie since it was so long ago lol#i really could ramble forever since i have missed u all#this blog was sooo much fun#i really do miss it and im getting that serotonin from ao3 lol#if ur at all curious#i still write fan fiction but its much less y/n and more characters#IM WRITING A BREATH OF THE WILD STORY ATM#AND IT HAS CONSUMED MY EVERY THOUGHT#LINK AND ZELDA ARE KILLING ME!!!!!!#I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!#so if thats ur thing pls message me and u can check it out!!!!#i only have two chapters up atm but fuck i feel like its going to be at least forty chapters#when i say slow burn i mean Slow Burn#but once they do the do it is going to be STEAMY#omg anyway ty again#bye#t:ans
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morning run
joel miller x fem!reader
[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3
warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters.
You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block.
“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?”
“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion.
“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.”
She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.”
You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood.
“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.”
She throws a sponge at your head.
“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge.
“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!”
You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan.
You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood.
She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations.
So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you.
You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you.
Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway.
“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?”
He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away.
You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.
“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.”
“I agree, you can run anytime you want–”
“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”
He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.
“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.”
���Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.”
Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?”
“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–”
“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.”
“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”
Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth.
“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.”
With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.
-
You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband.
Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller .
You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens.
“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself.
“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right.
You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact.
“Good morning,” you whisper.
He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin.
“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair.
You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it.
“How did you know–”
“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk.
His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope.
“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?”
He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate.
“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.”
His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts.
“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples.
“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?”
His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face.
As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face.
“How dare you–”
“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.”
Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met.
“Let me go or I’ll scream–”
“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?”
Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape.
Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.
He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him.
“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds.
She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide.
“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”
Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?
“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust.
You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape.
“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.”
Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.
He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts.
“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?”
“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.”
Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan.
Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her.
“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?”
Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind.
“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.”
You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt.
“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.”
A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock.
“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.”
You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance.
“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out.
“That the community is already perfect, Susan.”
His voice sounds annoyed at this point.
“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–”
Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit.
“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.”
Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size.
“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.”
You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs.
Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure.
“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?”
“ Y–yes ,” you whisper.
“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.”
Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge.
“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”
You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment.
You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart.
Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate.
“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers.
“ Please, Joel,” you whine.
He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up.
You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.
Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.
He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.
Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.
"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.
You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.
You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.
"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.
"What? No, why?"
"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch."
Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#dark joel miller#dark fic
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surface-level freak
kinktober prompts: teratophilia, rimming, prostitution (3 for 3 today!) explicit | 7k tags: werewolf eddie, transmasc human steve, full shift werewolf sex, vaginal and anal sex, creampie, come eating, somnophilia, little bit of spit kink and crying notes: full tags and cw are on ao3, but the gist is steve gets fucked by eddie while eddie is a fully shifted werewolf
read on AO3
This isn't exactly where Steve thought he'd end up in life, but he's absolutely not complaining.
What started as a desperate need for money after being disowned has turned into something he thinks he'd do for the rest of his life if he can.
The first time he gave a, probably subpar, blowjob in exchange for cash, he'd been scared out of his mind, dropping to his knees and trying to remember what Tommy liked the few times they had fooled around.
The first time he had a werewolf client, he didn't know that it would become his niche, his specialty, but it did. He took his first knot and took it well, and got paid handsomely for it.
That guy had friends, other werewolves who were lonely and yearning for someone to sit pretty on their knot, and a lot of them had the money to pay for it.
And so started his career.
Steve Harrington, Werewolf Fucker.
He thinks he should be able to put that on his business card, but Robin says it's a little crass.
He's on his way to meet a new client for the first time - a famous client, if his connection is telling the truth.
He's only a tiny bit wary, phone in his hand poised and ready to hit his proverbial panic button should he need it. Not that he thinks one of his clients would lie, necessarily, but when he said he had a famous werewolf that might be interested, Steve was imagining some commercial model or something, not Eddie Fucking Munson from Corroded Coffin.
He gets to the cafe and finds it eerily empty when he steps inside. It's nine in the morning on a Tuesday - people should be standing in line waiting to get their coffee. Which tells him this is the real deal.
Eddie Munson meeting him in a crowded cafe seemed like an odd choice when he texted him that they needed to meet somewhere in public first.
There's one table occupied when he scans the room and he marches over to it.
"You know, part of the reason for meeting in public is so that I'm not alone with a new client I don't know," he says, sitting down across from Eddie.
Eddie pushes his sunglasses up and back, pulling his hair out of his face.
"I couldn't really meet you here without having the place empty," he says with a grimace. "My fans are great, but I didn't exactly want to be talking with you while also trying to sign autographs."
Steve can appreciate that, he guesses. Still.
"You should have told me." He doesn't like not having the upper hand, especially with new people.
"Sorry," Eddie says sheepishly. "If it helps, my guy and your friend are standing right by the door."
Steve looks back and sees Robin and the tallest guy he's ever seen standing in front of the entrance. Robin waves when they lock eyes. Steve waves back, letting her know it's all good.
"Okay, fine. Apology accepted. Robin told you my rates. What were you thinking?" he asks, getting to business.
Eddie looks at him seriously and says, "Knotting, of course."
"Of course." People didn't come to him and pay his rates for nothing - knotting is par for the course.
"I was thinking the 17th. I leave for tour on the 19th, but I have no time between now and then to spend a whole night with you."
The whole night, Steve thinks. God, he's in for a treat. Most of his clients have him for a few hours, long enough to fuck him and knot him, sometimes long enough to spend a while cuddling after, but a whole night is going to absolutely fuck him up. He'll have to tell Robin not to schedule anything the few days after that.
When Steve doesn't say anything, Eddie continues. "And since it's the whole night, I want both of your holes." Steve tries to suppress the shiver that makes its way through his body at the sound of Eddie's voice. "I'll want to rim you, get you ready for me. And I'll probably want to eat you out after I come in you."
"That all sounds good. If you knot me twice in a row, I might fall asleep on you though," Steve says, intimately familiar with how his body responds to being rigorously fucked and knotted.
"Would you be okay with me eating my come out of you while you slept?" Eddie asks and Steve visibly shivers, unable to stop it this time.
"Yeah, that would be okay," he says, almost breathlessly.
It's not that he doesn't normally love his job, but the prospect of spending the full night with Eddie, getting fucked into oblivion over and over and then having Eddie eat his come out of him when he's not even awake to enjoy it has him shifting in his seat, his underwear sticking wet against him.
"Oh," Eddie says like he just remembered something. "I didn't see anything in the rate sheet about full shift sex. Is that off the table?"
He's caught off guard again, it seems. No one has ever asked for that.
He doesn't come by full shift werewolves often, but the ones that he has have all fucked him half-shifted like the rest of them, just claws and fangs and extra hair and their knot. Some of them have curled around him after fully shifted, taking comfort in him for a while, but none of them have asked to fuck him while shifted. He didn't even really consider that it was an option.
Steve's nothing if not good at thinking on his feet, though. He says, "It's a special request, so you'll have to work out the details with Robin, but it's definitely something that we can do."
"I'll talk to Robin then," Eddie says, licking his lips and looking him over. Steve's never felt more like a piece of meat and god if he isn't into it.
*
Once the payment details have been worked out between Eddie and Robin later via email - after Robin screeches at him and Steve reassures her that, yes, it is possible and safe - Steve sees Eddie's name pop up on his calendar and tries not to spend too much time freaking out about it.
He's not nervous, exactly. There's always the jitters he gets when he's fucking a new client for the first time because what if they see his body and don't like it, what if they thought he's a major asshole, what if it's the most awkward night of his life, what if, what if, what if?
He's feeling all that plus the apprehension of doing something he's never done before. He does a lot of research in the week leading up to it, subscribes to the OnlyFans of a lovely werewolf and human couple who do full shift knotting and make it look easy as anything.
Watching someone smaller than him take a knot bigger than his fist helps settle some of his nerves about feasibility. And he's taken knotting dildos that expand larger than some of the half-shifted weres' knots he's taken. He feels better about his ability to take it when he digs out his largest knotting dildo and spends a night devolving into an incoherent mess as he comes over and over from the stimulation of the knot pressing on his g-spot.
When the night comes, he gets himself ready to the best of his ability. He fingers his ass open in the shower thoroughly since Eddie requested that he not use lube before coming over and then slips a plug inside that's coated in the slick from his cunt.
Because he's been dripping slick in anticipation for days now. Thinking about it even remotely has him wet and open and aching about it, craving something inside him.
He gets a Lyft over to Eddie's place, or a place that Eddie's rented for the night - he's not sure.
When he steps inside the apartment building and is led to the elevator by the same comically tall man from before, he puts his game face on. Tonight is definitely going to be interesting, if nothing else.
Eddie opens the door to his apartment and ushers Steve inside. "Good to see you," he says, voice nervous, like he wasn't sure Steve was going to show.
"Good to see you too," Steve says, and it's not a lie. He's excited and nervous and horny and he's sure Eddie can smell all of that on him.
Eddie looks good. Steve takes a good look at him while he's grabbing some water bottles to bring to the bedroom.
He's not as put together as he was at the cafe. He's wearing a well worn shirt and soft looking sweatpants. He's barefoot and casual and this whole look is really doing something for Steve.
That, or the fact that he's about to get dicked down within an inch of his life. He's so fucking ready for this.
Eddie leads him to the bedroom, not really making small talk, which is much more pleasant than if he were. Robin always gives new clients the run down, but some guys don't really understand that he isn't there to be anything but a good fuck. He doesn't want to be anything else or for anyone to get any wires crossed. He knows he owes them a part of himself, but there are parts of himself that he doesn't share and doesn't care to know about in return.
And especially with someone new - Steve doesn't know him, so he doesn't really care how his week went other than if he was thinking of Steve. He isn't interested in hearing anything that's not related to him getting fucked right now, because it's the first time, because he doesn't have that kind of relationship with his clients - the ones who try to know more about him or get him to participate in knowing more about them quickly learn his boundaries.
"You can, uh, take your clothes off if you want," Eddie says as he closes the door behind them and Steve grins.
He's used to people wanting to get right down to business so he doesn't bother with elaborate outfits or lingerie unless requested. They both know what they're here for.
He strips down quickly and efficiently under Eddie's watchful eye, folding his clothes as he goes, placing them on the dresser he's standing by.
He lets Eddie look his fill, lets him drag his eyes up and down his body, as he walks towards him.
When he gets close enough, Eddie puts his hand on his hip and Steve shivers from the condensation left there by the water bottle he just set down on the nightstand.
"You're beautiful," he says, leaning in to press his mouth to Steve's neck, his lips right below his pulse point. He kisses down Steve's neck, his other hand coming up to grip the curve of his ass possessively.
Steve's cunt clenches reflexively at the gesture. Part of what does it for him, through all of this, is the feeling of being owned, feeling like he's owned and wanted, desired.
Eddie's fingers delve between his cheeks, looking to pet over his asshole, and he makes a surprised noise against Steve's throat when he feels the plug.
"I don't smell any lube on you," Eddie says, pulling back to look at him as he tugs at the plug lightly, too light to pull it out, but enough for Steve to feel the stretch of it wanting to slip out.
He shivers and says, "I didn't use any at your request. Not any that my body didn't create at least. And it's not a big plug, but I don't know how big your knot is and I wanted to prepare myself at least a little."
He's nervous he messed up or did something Eddie didn't like, but he was told to specify what he wanted beforehand and he didn't say Steve couldn't, so...
Luckily, Eddie just grins at him and tugs him closer so he's nearly pressed flush against him. He slips his fingers further between Steve's legs and says, "I think I want this hole first," petting over his cunt. "And I said I'd rim you before I fucked your ass to get you ready. I was thinking about doing that full shift if you're okay with it."
Steve can't help the way his entire body buzzes at the thought. "That's- yeah. Yes," he says intelligently.
Eddie's mouth twitches up like he's amused, but the hand on Steve's hip comes up to cup his neck and pull him into a kiss, so he can't be too mad about it.
Eddie kisses him deeply right from the jump - tongue pressing inside his mouth immediately, heads tilting so they can both lick deeper. Steve rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder, his other hand pressing against the front of Eddie sweatpants which have tented up.
Eddie pulls the hand from between his legs back a little to play with the plug again. He holds the base and presses the little button there, starting up the low hum of vibrations that makes Steve moan softly into his mouth.
At the sound of Steve's moan, Eddie pulls away from the kiss with a slick noise. He says, "Get on the bed. On your back," and steps back, his hands falling away from Steve's body.
Steve gets on the bed. He lays back and spreads his legs, his right hand settling between his thighs, stroking his thumb over his dick slowly.
He watches as Eddie gets undressed, just strips his shirt off and pushes his sweatpants down and off to show off his body.
He's not shifted at all yet so he doesn't have much body hair other than a light dusting of hair on his arms and legs and a thick thatch of hair above his frankly gorgeous dick.
His dick is thick - not the longest he's ever seen, but he's got girth and Steve's cunt clenches at the thought of how much bigger it's going to get when he shifts. Even half-shifted, he'll be bigger, stretching out whatever hole he wants to fill. When he's fully shifted-
He doesn't even know how he's going to manage not immediately coming all over his dick as soon as it gets inside him.
He didn't get into this particular line of work because he was anything other than a size queen. He knows this about himself and he luckily has the clientele to make sure that he never has to go without being filled again.
Eddie climbs onto the bed with him after grabbing a bottle of lube.
It's not a brand he's familiar with and when Eddie sees him looking, he says, "It's a brand made 'by weres for weres', kind of thing. Regular lube, even unscented, has a weirdly strong scent."
Steve hums. "I'll have to look into that," he says, trying to make a mental note to get the name of the brand before he leaves tomorrow.
He gets between Steve's thighs and tosses the lube up near the pillows next to the one Steve is resting his head on.
He leans down and presses his mouth to Steve's throat again, breathing in his scent briefly. There's a rumbling noise low in his chest as he does, not quite a growl, but Steve knows he likes what he smells. He probably wouldn't be here right now if Eddie didn't like how he smelled.
"Wanna put my mouth on you," Eddie says, lips dragging along his collarbone.
Steve nods eagerly. "You can. I want you to."
Eddie kisses down his chest and Steve feels the moment Eddie starts to shift, his teeth becoming sharper as he nips at his hip bones, his nails becoming claws as his hands push his thighs open wider.
He looks down and groans at the sight. Where Eddie's body was sparsely covered with hair before is now covered in it. His chest, his thighs, his arms, probably his back too - all covered in thick hair.
With his legs spread wide, thighs pressed into the sheets, he knows Eddie can see how wet he is, can smell it too - not just his slick, but his arousal. He feels like he's choking on it and he doesn't have the same senses as a wolf, so he can't imagine how thick the smell of his arousal must be right now.
The plug is still vibrating inside him, but it's not big enough and the vibration isn't strong enough to really be doing much for him.
Without much fanfare, Eddie dips his head and laps at the wetness between Steve's thighs, pulling another groan from deep within him. Steve reaches up to grab the pillow underneath his head so that he has something to hold onto as Eddie licks from his cunt to his dick and back again, one hand reaching down to play with his plug.
He presses the button on the plug again to turn up the vibration. At the same time, he presses his tongue inside him, and it's not the same for all werewolves, but Eddie's tongue when he's half-shifted is longer than a normal human tongue.
He presses it inside and Steve's thighs shake, another wave of slick dripping out of him when Eddie pulls back.
Eddie gets his mouth on Steve's cock and he knows he doesn't stand a chance. His fists grab harder onto the pillow and he bucks his hips up into Eddie's mouth.
Eddie wraps his hands around Steve's waist and hauls him up, letting him hook a thigh over his shoulder for leverage as he fucks up against his mouth.
He sticks his long tongue out and lets Steve grind up against it, the sight of it driving him fucking insane.
He hitches his hips up, grinding against his tongue and his eyes nearly roll back when he feels the tip of Eddie's tongue teasing at his slick hole at the same time.
One hand comes down to fist into Eddie's hair, holding him there as he comes, feeling like he's going to shake out of his body. He grinds his dick on Eddie's tongue as he pulses through his orgasm, crying out as he does.
When he sinks back into the bed, breath shaky and feeling like he's going to melt into a puddle, Eddie nuzzles his face into the crease of his thigh. Steve runs his hand down over Eddie's hair, smoothing it down where he tugged it up earlier.
Eddie presses the button on the plug again, holds down for a few seconds, until it turns off, and then he dips his tongue back inside Steve's dripping hole.
Steve sighs and lets Eddie attempt to lick him clean.
When he's had his fill of sucking the slick from Steve's cunt, Eddie puts his mouth on Steve's thigh, his canines digging in as he sucks hard on the skin, marking the skin there.
He makes his way back up Steve's body when he's done making his mark on his thigh.
"Can I fuck you?" Eddie asks like the idiot he is.
"If you don't get inside me right now, I'm gonna strap you to this bed, sit on your cock until sunrise, and not let you come once," Steve says like the cock-hungry whore he is.
Eddie grins at him, baring his teeth, his canines glinting in the warm light of the bedroom. He lines his cock up and presses inside, the slide made so fucking easy from the amount of slick Steve's dripping. He's sopping wet and they both hear the loud, slick sound of Eddie's cock fucking into his core.
Eddie scoops up Steve's legs, his knees falling into the crook of Eddie's elbows as he leans down to kiss him. He fucks in deep until he's buried inside him, his hips cradled between Steve's thighs.
He starts up a slow rhythm, as slow as the kisses he presses to Steve's mouth, and it's not enough. The hair of the scruff on his face that wasn't there before is a delicious burn against the skin around his mouth, but Steve wants more. He wants to feel that burn everywhere, wants Eddie to leave him covered in beard burn, his skin raw and red from it.
The thought of that spurs him to try and get some leverage to fuck himself on Eddie's cock. Steve doesn't have that much leverage with his hips splayed out like this, but he wraps his arm around Eddie's shoulders and tries to roll his hips up anyway.
He kisses Eddie, trying to deepen the chaste kisses he presses on his mouth, but Eddie apparently wants to take his time right now.
He lets his fingertips dig into Eddie's shoulder and clenches around him, but lets him take his time getting into it.
After a minute, Eddie pries his mouth open with his tongue and presses it inside Steve's mouth. Steve groans as Eddie fucks his tongue into his mouth, nearly hitting the back of his throat and Steve is done waiting. They can take it slow in the morning if that's something Eddie wants, but Steve wants to be fucked into the mattress now.
Steve doesn't know if Eddie's taking it slow because he's afraid of losing control or if he's afraid of hurting him or something else, but either way, he begrudgingly pulls away from Eddie's mouth to say, "Remember what I said about tying you to the bed? Fuck. Me. Or I'll find someone else to do it."
Eddie sits up a little and looks down at him, like he's deciding if he's serious - he's not, of course. Eddie paid for this time and he'll gladly suffer through the slowest, most vanilla, missionary fucking of his life if that's what Eddie wants. But Steve doesn't think it is, is the thing. He thinks Eddie wants to get rough with him, wants to drag his body closer like he's a fucking ragdoll and use him, and that's why Steve's pushing so much.
"You're kind of bossy for someone who's paid to lay there and take it," Eddie says - calling him out on it - his mouth pulled up into a grin, softening the words. He rolls his hips gently, his cock dragging against Steve's hole deliciously.
"I think you're afraid to hurt me, maybe. And I'm going to remind you that I do do this for a living, so I can take it. I like it, even. And I want you to stop being so gentle if that's not what you want. I want you to press me into this mattress and fucking knot me already," he says, watching Eddie's darken at his words.
Eddie's grin slides into a smirk and his tongue slides along his left canine. He says, "I was trying to ease you into it, but if you're sure."
He raises an eyebrow at him and Steve fights the urge to say something bitchy about how he's already told him what he wants.
"I'm sure," he says instead.
Eddie lowers his body on top of him, pressing his cock all the way inside again. He leans in and takes a deep breath of Steve's scent right at the nape of his neck where it's the most potent. His entire body seems to twitch as he presses his nose into his neck and scents him.
And then it's like a switch has been flipped. Because Eddie's hands come to rest on Steve's hips and press him into the sheets. Because Eddie spreads his knees and starts fucking into Steve like the animal he is - rutting into him in quick, harsh strokes, humping him really.
And this is what Steve was waiting for. He drops his head back and can't stop the whine that escapes his lips as Eddie's dick hits deep inside him.
The only reason he's not more embarrassed about the noises that can't seem to stop is because Eddie's whining too, making these whimpering little punched out sounds as he fucks into Steve's cunt roughly.
With Eddie whining into his ear and fucking into him deep, there's no way to stave off the orgasm that sneaks up on him. He's tensing up and shaking through it before he even realizes it's coming, digging his fingernails into Eddie's back and clenching around Eddie's cock.
Eddie groans at the feeling of Steve's cunt squeezing him tightly and he presses up onto his forearms, looking down at Steve.
"I'm gonna-" he says, a moan cutting him off.
"Do it," Steve says. "Knot me."
Eddie shudders, pressing his cock in deep again, and Steve can feel the way it expands, can feel the knot forming. He manages a few more shaky thrusts before the knot catches on Steve's hole and they both groan.
He pulls it out and bullies it back in and Steve's eyes roll back at the feeling of his hole being stretched out to let him back inside.
Eddie rocks his hips now that his knot is too big to pull back out. His knot is pressing right on Steve's g-spot with every movement of Eddie's hips and he knows he's going to come on his knot before it goes down.
He swears he can feel it the moment Eddie starts to come inside him, can feel the added warmth and wetness inside him and it makes his entire body burn.
He watches as Eddie shakes through it, biting his lip, but not being able to stop the groans tumbling from his mouth.
Eddie keeps rocking his hips, his knot hitting Steve just right and pulling on his hole and Steve's tensing up again, too soon, too soon, too soon. He gasps as he starts to come again.
His body goes taut as he squirts from the stimulation of Eddie's knot pressing on his g-spot relentlessly. He quakes as he barrels through another orgasm, barely able to catch his fucking breath.
Eddie groans as his muscles squeeze his knot, trying to milk the come from him.
The pleasure is blinding and all consuming and he thinks he whites out a little, floating and weightless for a minute before he comes back down.
He lays there catching his breath, sweaty, cunt aching from being knotted up, covered in his own squirt juice, and there's no better feeling than this.
Eddie's knot is still pressed tight against his g-spot, a constant point of white-hot pleasure that he can't shake and doesn't want to.
As they come down, Eddie sits up, the motion pulling Steve's hips into his lap. Steve groans at the way the knot pulls him along with Eddie's hand on his hips.
Eddie's kneeling back on his haunches, but he straightens up so that Steve's not laying in the wet spot he made. If he wasn't supporting Steve's body with his hands on his hips, he would be dangling from his knot and that thought makes Steve's eyes roll back, his cunt clenching almost painfully around the knot inside him as he moans and comes again.
"This is what you wanted, right? To be hanging off my knot?" Eddie asks, almost snarling down at him when Steve clenches around him again.
Steve nods his head and brings his hands up, one gripping Eddie's hand on his hip, the other coming up to stroke his belly where it's bulging slightly. It's going to be so much more pronounced when Eddie fucks his ass, when Eddie's fully shifted, and Steve can't help the way he shudders thinking about it.
Eddie licks his lips looking at the way Steve pets his stomach bulge. "Wish I could feel that from the inside too. Feel you petting the head of my cock through your stomach."
The words make Steve groan again and he slips his hand down to rub at his aching dick.
Eddie puts his hand on Steve's and pulls it away, sitting back on his haunches again and hauling Steve up so they're face to face again.
He presses his mouth to Steve's again, licking inside. Their tongues press together gently, a slow, sinking kiss that leaves him breathless.
Their tongues slide together for a good few minutes as they wait for Eddie's knot to go down.
Steve can feel when it's small enough to slip out of him because it feels like a rush of wetness drips out of him.
Eddie pulls away from the kiss and says, "I'm probably going to knot for a lot longer when I'm shifted."
"That's okay. I might fall asleep if you do," Steve says, knowing he's bound to come at least a few more times and he's already feeling the exhaustion start to creep in, his body feeling the strain of their fucking. In the quiet aftermath, with Eddie fully shifted and seeping warmth, he's probably going to fall right asleep.
"I'll clean you up if you do," Eddie says and Steve groans. He nuzzles into Steve's neck briefly, nipping at the skin there, before he moves them.
Eddie pulls him neatly off his cock and deposits him onto the bed, rolling him onto his stomach. The sheets are wet beneath him, but it doesn't make sense to move because he's just going to get them wet again when he squirts on Eddie's knot again.
He feels the ripple in the air from the subtle change in air pressure that means Eddie's fully shifted now.
Eddie drapes himself over Steve's body and Steve moans at the feeling of Eddie's hairy, hairy body covering him completely. He's bigger like this, taller and wider, and it's turning Steve's brain to goo thinking about how big his knot is going to feel inside his ass.
Eddie's voice is a low grumble when he speaks and Steve shivers about that too.
"Gonna get you ready now," he growls out and all Steve can do is spread his legs further when Eddie pulls his weight off him. "Take your plug out."
He'd almost forgotten it was there, holding his ass open, nowhere near as big as what's about to come. He grips the base of the plug and slides it out before tossing it on the nightstand.
He's damn near shivering in anticipation when Eddie presses Steve's hips down and spreads him out.
Eddie ducks his head and licks at the mess between his thighs, lapping at his cunt. The feeling is so much. His tongue feels rougher than before.
Steve's cunt is so wet, from Eddie's come and from the fresh slick that drips from him as Eddie's tongue delves into him. Steve can't stop the wails that come out of his mouth.
He's crying out, almost sobbing with it as Eddie continues to lick at his sensitive hole and then as he licks inside with his long tongue, longer than his human tongue, longer than his half shifted tongue.
He licks into his cunt until he's shaking and then he spreads Steve's cheeks. Steve looks back over his shoulder and lets out a weak moan as he watches as Eddie lets a mixture of his spit, his come, and Steve's slick dribble down onto his asshole.
The tip of his tongue presses inside his ass and Steve relaxes into it. Eddie presses more of his tongue inside, more of his come and spit lubing the way.
He fucks his ass like this for a couple minutes and it feels like Eddie is lazily doing this, taking his time and trying to build it up, but Steve is on a hair trigger, has been all night.
He gets a hand under him and rubs at his cock and that's it, he's coming again, cunt dripping onto the sheets beneath him.
Eddie keeps licking into his asshole as Steve shudders through his orgasm.
He must have grabbed the bottle of lube at some point because when he pulls away, Steve feels something slick, wet, and cold being dripped onto his hole.
He looks back and almost laughs at how small the lube bottle looks in Eddie's hand. He watches as Eddie squeezes the bottle and drips lube onto his cock and he groans.
Eddie's cock like this is fucking outrageous. It's long and thick and Steve knows it's going to stretch him out like nothing he's ever experienced before, putting any time he's said the phrase 'rearranging his guts' to shame.
Eddie pulls him up on his hands and knees and notches his cock against Steve's asshole and presses the head inside slowly.
Steve breathes through it - the head popping inside makes his cunt clench in sympathy. He wonders what it would feel like inside his cunt, pressing on places that probably haven't been touched before. He shivers thinking about it.
Eddie presses in a little bit more, drizzling more lube onto his hole. He pulls out and presses back inside and Steve feels like he can't get in enough air - it's so fucking big.
When he's fully seated inside him, Steve feels overheated.
And then Eddie starts to move.
If he was overwhelmed before, he doesn't know what he is right now. There's so much to focus on - the giant cock stretching him out, the feeling of Eddie draping himself over his back, the feeling of Eddie's arm hair under his hand when he reaches back to steady himself.
Eddie takes it so slow for a few minutes, rocking in and out gently as Steve's body gets used to the intrusion.
Steve lowers his chest to the bed so he isn't supporting his weight and lets Eddie drag him back onto his cock.
He groans at the feeling, getting a hand beneath him and on his dick again. He presses two fingers inside his cunt where he's soaking wet and lets the palm of his hand rock against his dick as Eddie picks up the pace.
It doesn't take longer than another minute to come, crying out embarrassingly loud as he grinds against his hand.
That seems to spur Eddie on and he fucks into Steve harder as Steve goes lax after he's done coming.
He doesn't know when he started crying, but the pillow beneath his head is wet with his tears and Eddie's bent over and licking at his neck and the side of his face like he's trying to soothe him.
He wants to feel Eddie's knot in him as badly he doesn't know what to do with himself.
He pushes back against him, the slapping sound of Eddie's hips hitting his growing louder.
Eddie fucks into him with deep strokes and Steve knows without looking or touching that his stomach is bulging out on every fucking thrust.
He's so deep inside him. It feels like every nerve in his body is on fire with the way he's lit up from the inside out.
His fingers are still tucked inside him and he curls them up, hiccuping wetly when he presses on his g-spot. He fucks his fingers in and out, trying to match the speed of Eddie's thrusts and as soon as he feels his knot starting to form, he's squirting all over the bed again.
The knot stretches at his rim and it's like he can't stop coming, clenching over and over and over as Eddie bullies his knot inside him.
His knot already felt like it was going to split him open earlier when he was only half-shifted and now it's pressing in and in again and shattering his whole world. Steve feels his eyes cross at the unrelenting pressure.
Eddie presses it in and it catches on Steve's rim, unable to come out again so easily, so Eddie just grinds his hips against Steve's as he chases his orgasm.
Steve comes again, gasping and crying as he feels the warmth of Eddie coming inside him. He's clenching both holes, milking Eddie's knot again and he can't stop shivering and sobbing.
They stay like that until Steve stops shivering, until it feels less like he's going to float out of his body.
Eddie moves them, his knot tugging at Steve's hole, making him hiss.
He drags them off of the wet spot and under the covers that were folded on the other side of the bed.
Steve kind of blinks back into reality with Eddie spooned up behind him, nuzzling his face into his throat.
"Drink some water, baby," Eddie says to him, his voice still a deep growl, so Steve hadn't missed him shifting back yet. He's still knotted inside him, so it makes sense, but Steve's brain isn't operating at 100% right now.
They've wound up closer to the bedside table than when they started so it's not a far stretch to reach over and grab a water bottle. He sucks down half the bottle, his dehydrated body needing it.
He passes the uncapped bottle back to Eddie and bites back a quip about him needing a water bowl. He's too tired to make it funny anyway - it would probably come out sounding a little mean and he doesn't want to be mean right now.
He just wants to be wrapped up and taken care of.
Eddie deposits the water bottle somewhere and drags Steve into his arms.
The entire room smells like sex, like both of them, and he can't even imagine what that must be like for Eddie with his heightened senses. Maybe that's why Eddie keeps burying his face in Steve's neck, overwhelmed by their mingling scents and the scent of their come in the air.
He's so sleepy - the warmth seeping from Eddie's body, the exhaustion of being fucked good, and the feeling of Eddie stroking his hand over Steve belly makes his eyes drift closed. He can feel himself falling asleep soon as he settles back into Eddie's embrace.
He drifts to sleep still knotted up tight.
*
He wakes up soon after falling asleep to Eddie's tongue inside his ass, his human-sized tongue licking deftly over him, eating the come from his hole. He gasps at the feeling, at the loud, wet noises coming from behind him.
He's on his stomach again, so reaches his hand back and fists it in Eddie's hair.
"Hi, gorgeous," Eddie says before going back to licking and sucking at his hole.
With Steve awake, Eddie fucks two fingers inside his cunt slowly, immediately curling them down to hit his g-spot.
Steve groans loudly. Eddie sloppily eating his ass and slowly, but expertly fingering his cunt is such a good way to wake up.
Eddie licks into him over and over, his fingers stroking over his g-spot, and when his other hand comes down to stroke at his cock, he doesn't stand a chance.
It's a slow building orgasm, but he quakes and whines through it all the same. Eddie keeps licking and fingering and stroking him through it, and after another couple of minutes, he's rolling through another one, this one edging on painful - the pleasure tipping over into pain as he jerks through it.
He pulls at Eddie's hair and says, "Enough," before dropping his hand onto the bed beside him.
Eddie pulls his fingers out and Steve can hear the way he sucks them into his mouth and if he wasn't literally aching, he'd want to go another round.
He manages to stay awake as Eddie hauls him up and into the bathroom to clean up. In the shower, Eddie presses him into the shower wall and kisses him as he soaps up his body.
They fall back into the bed with clean bodies and wet hair and Steve is asleep the minute his head hits the pillow.
*
He wakes up in the morning with Eddie's head between his thighs again, licking into his sore cunt. He's fucking insatiable.
Steve sighs and stretches his arms out, spreading his thighs a little.
He looks down at Eddie and finds him looking back up at him, tongue licking into him with little kitten licks.
"You're going to kill me," is what he says, voice rough with sleep.
Eddie pulls his wet mouth away and grins at him. He says, "Or ruin you."
Steve shivers. He already has. How the hell is he supposed to go back to knots that aren't from a fully shifted werewolf?
"Can I fuck you?" Eddie asks, crawling up his body.
Steve pulls him into a kiss, tasting his slick on Eddie's tongue. He reaches down and guides Eddie's cock into his sore cunt, sighing into Eddie's mouth.
Eddie fucks him gently, slowly grinding into him, trading kisses the entire time.
After a minute, Eddie puts his hands under Steve's back and rolls them over so that Steve is straddling Eddie's lap.
Their lips never leave each other's as Steve rocks down against him, getting a good angle so Eddie cock is dragging over his g-spot.
The kisses turn desperate as they both get closer, Steve reaching a hand down to rub at his dick.
He comes on Eddie's cock, gasping into his mouth as he clenches around him.
It only takes another handful of thrusts before Eddie's coming too - he grabs Steve by the hips and fucks up into him, faster than before, but still gentle.
Eddie groans into his mouth as he comes inside him and they both collapse back onto the bed.
Steve lifts himself off Eddie dick and shivers at the feeling of his come leaking out of him.
"I don't suppose you'd want to clean me up before I go?" Steve asks, leaning back and spreading his legs.
He tracks the way Eddie licks his lips looking at the come dripping out of him and grins. He's got his number, it seems.
When Eddie presses him back into the sheets and licks the come dripping from his cunt and Steve starts thinking of how he's going to secure seeing him again, he supposes Eddie has his number too.
#heed the ao3 tags and notes etc#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steddie fanfic#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington x eddie munson#janai.doc
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Maxiel HC's
Part one I guess, more relationshippy stuff to come
Normally it's reader and one of the boys together first, but not in this story
This story starts at Red Bull Racing, when Max and Daniel were racing for the same time
Max was young and ambitious and Daniel walked around with heart eyes (most of the time)
(There were times where Daniel wanted to kill Max, like when they'd fight each other on track. But, as soon as it happened, Daniel would find himself melting at Max's smile and forgiving him)
Max didn't know how he felt, just that he felt some type of way about Daniel
Daniel knew exactly what he felt for Max
Half way through the 2018 season they began sharing kisses, hidden away in hotel rooms
Daniel knew he couldn't stay at Red Bull, not with how he felt for Max (oh my god I could write a whole ao3 fic about these two)
Daniel moved to Renault and Max couldn't help but feel betrayed
Daniel didn't "break up" with him, but he didn't have to
They were never really together
So, Max hid away his upset and distracted himself
He found somebody new to distract him from Daniel
He found Y/N
Max went public with her very quickly
He took her on three dates in very quick succession before asking her to be his
From there Y/N was always in the paddock
A usually quite private Max was showing her off whenever he could, keeping his arms wrapped around her and kissing her
The media loved it
They didn't know it was all for Daniels benefit
The Australian didn't let it get to hem
Well he tried
He tried so damn hard
But, as soon as he got Max alone, he snapped
Pushing him into an empty room Daniel pushed him up against a wall
It was a side of Daniel Max had never seen
He couldn't stop that cheeky, irritating smirk from crossing his features
In that moment, the two of them hidden away, Daniel went from angry to sad
Sad that Max didn't want he love anymore
Sad that he had lost his Max
The smirk dropped from Max's face and he pulled Daniel in close
"Y/Ns coming to mine for dinner on Wednesday, you should join us," Max said as he patted Daniels back
"Why would I want to do that?"
"Just trust me"
So Daniel did just that
On Wednesday he joined Max and and Y/N for dinner
It was awkward and uncomfortable at first
Especially when Max brought up his and Daniels past
And then told her of their dilemma
But then Y/N came up with a fantastic idea
"Well, I don't know Daniel very well," she began, her hand held in Max's. She looked across the table at the Australian. "But we should get to know each other. Yeah, we could make this work"
"Make what work, Schat?"
"This. Us. The two of you want to be together, clearly. And I want to be with you, Max. So why don't Daniel and I get to know each other and then we could try to all be together?"
Daniel had no objections
Max had no objections
So, Daniel and Y/N went on a few dates
It wasn't easy, her relationship with Max was so public that they couldn't exactly go out to any restaurants or anything
So, they settled for dinners and wine
At first, nothing
They were a little awkward
It took them drinking a little bit too much with some Taylor Swift playing in the background for anything to actually happen
Daniel sat on the couch, his empty glass of wine on the coffee table
Y/N had accidentally tipped hers over and was quickly mopping it up
When she walked back in her hips were swaying from side to side as she gripped the bottom of her skirt
A rather drunk Daniel pulled her down, pulling him into her lap
Y/N wrapped her arms around him as she sang along to the song
Suddenly they were kissing
Lips and teeth clashing as they kissed with a certain ferocity
Things changed after that
The three of them had a date, all of them together
Y/N hosted, cooking for them and providing drinks
She watched as Daniel and Max sat closer than friends should have, how their touches lingered
As they looked back at her they were still touching
It was weird kissing Daniel in front of Max
But Max made it more comfortable
By making it rather sexual
He stood behind Y/N, gripping her hips, kissing her neck as she wrapped her own arms around Daniels neck and kissed him
Things didn't go further in that moment, not when Y/Ns fire alarm went off
They weren't public, not until they were used to things
Once they were comfortably snogging
Once Y/N was happy to lay across them while they watched television
Once they all slept in the same bed together pretty happily (these two cuddled up in the night? It's gonna get hot af)
They were ready to go public
The fans had noticed Y/N hadn't been seen with Max for ages
When she returned to the paddock, her neck was bruised black and purple with hickies and she was holding Daniel Ricciardo's hand
What the fuck?
#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciaddo x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstapen x reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x reader smut#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula one#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#mv1#mv33#dr3#maxiel#maxiel imagine#maxiel x reader#poly!f1#mv1 imagine#dr3 imagine#mv1 x reader#dr3 x reader
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I've got this in my head, and I just want to get it out because if I keep going over it, it'll turn into a fic, and I don't want it to. It's just a phone dialogue, based more or less in the present time, where Alex calls Miles to ask him something:
‘Do you know Ao3?’
‘Conversations start with a hello, Alex,’ Miles replies, with an amused snort. ‘But- yeah, it's kind of like fanfiction and wattpad, isn't it?’
‘What the fuck is wattpad?’ was Alex's reply, which made Miles click his tongue.
"It's like fanfiction and ao3- it's- fuck- it's like- remember that time we found a story where a fan had written that you and her met and fucked? Well, they're all used for the same thing. I mean, not to write things about you fucking fans, but people use them to write their own versions of stories they like, or series, or actors or-"
‘They wrote that we fuck!’ exclaimed Alex, shocked, and all he got in response was a consensual silence, almost as if Miles had stopped breathing. ‘Did you know about this?’
‘Um, yeah, something-something I knew,’ Miles replied, slightly uncomfortable.
‘And why didn't you ever mention it?’ practically shrieked Alex into the phone's microphone, making Miles' eardrums ache. "There's a lot of people who are convinced that we fucked and-!
"Well, Alex, I think we encouraged that rumour quite a bit, don't you? Do a little mea culpa,’ Miles said, with a snort. Alex, again, shrieked.
'It was a fucking publicity stunt, Miles, and yes, the idea was to create that buzz but - but not this, Miles. There are hundreds of stories where- have you read any of this?’ he asked suddenly, in a slightly accusatory tone. Miles felt his cheeks burn.
‘Some things, just out of curiosity,’ he replied, and went ahead to clarify before Alex shrieked again. "I wanted to know if people wrote things about me, yeah? But no, there's a lot of fics about you fucking fans but of me- there's only fics of me fucking with you,’ he said, with a snort that was a mixture of indignation and amusement. ‘I should be the more annoyed of the two of us, at least some of my fans should be fantasizing about fucking me,’ he protested, though he let out a laugh at the same time. Alex must not have found any of it funny.
‘Your fucking fans fantasise about you busting my ass!’ he protested, scandalised, and his almost sanctimonious tone (Miles knew Alex wasn't exactly a prude), made him let out a laugh. ‘Don't laugh you fucking pervert! Why the fuck are them writing this? And why are you always the one who-?’
‘Not always,’ Miles interrupted him, with a playful tone that was meant to relax him, but he must have guessed that Alex was in no mood for laughter.
‘You seem to know too much about this!’ he accused him again.
‘I did my research,’ he replied, guilelessly, even if his cheeks still burned slightly. Alex, on the other end of the line, stood for a long moment in silence.
The silence became too long, so long that Miles began to feel slightly worried.
‘Are you really as good at fucking as they imply in these stories?’ asked Alex finally, always acting completely unexpected, even to Miles who had known him for so many years.
‘I'm indognated by that question, Alex,’ he replied, falsely indignant. ‘Obviously, those stories don't do me justice,’ he had expected a witty or mocking comment in response, instead, all he heard was Alex passing his saliva heavily, he could almost visualise in his eyes his Adam's apple lowering. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Curiosity,’ Alex said, in an all-too-innocent thread of a voice. Alex only sounded innocent when he was guilty.
‘Would you like to-know if it's true?’ asked Miles, taking a too-risky leap he'd been avoiding taking for many, many years but-why the fuck had Alex called him? That fucker never did anything if he didn't have a plan behind it.
‘I know, you just told me,’ was the terse reply. ‘I just wanted to know if you were aware of this, and I see that you are and I'm outraged that you're not outraged,’ he added, resuming his annoyance. Miles clicked his tongue.
‘Oh, Alex, it's almost a compliment,’ Alex's response was a snort that surely summed up several insults. ‘In any case, the proposal still stands,’ Miles repeated, not knowing where the courage to insist came from. Maybe it was the beer he was drinking.
'Proposal?'
‘Yes, if you ever want to know if those stories are similar to reality or not - I could show you,’ Miles replied, also using the tactic of sounding too innocent and casual.
‘Those stories have filled your head with absurd ideas,’ Alex said, snorting. ‘It wouldn't be like that,’ he added, pointing out the absurdity. "They're fantasies, reality is always different. It's like porn and-"
‘It would be fucking better,’ again, silence. ‘I'm sure it would,’ he added, incredulous at his own audacity.
‘You're cocky,’ Alex said with a nervous chuckle, Miles clicked his tongue.
‘Confidence isn't being cocky,’ he replied. ‘We could-’
‘I gotta go, Miles, I'm busy,’ Miles must have expected that, maybe that's why Alex's escape wasn't a surprise.
‘Yeah, sure - keep enjoying your - reading,’ he said, and it was he who hung up the phone, not waiting for an answer.
Alex was going to call back, Miles had known him for twenty years, and he didn't know how he'd gotten into his best friend's head - but once Alex had something on his mind he was unable to get it out of his head until he got it.
And at that moment, that something was Miles. It was a sudden surprise but - fuck, that was his lucky day, wasn't it?
At midnight, Miles was sitting on the couch at home, drinking a beer and watching an unwatched TV show. It was just as the clock struck 00 that his phone rang and he smiled, knowing he had just won a fight he never fought.
‘Hi Alex,’ and just like that, that's how it all started.
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Plus One
Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader "Ms Jackson"
Summary: It's Ms Jackson's company holiday party, and Frankie makes his debut.
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, references to past escort work, semi-public sex, slight exhibitionism kink, references to oral sex and anal play, unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), spanking, possessive play, little bit of brattiness, Frankie is too damn hot and Ms J is gonna make him pay for it (in the best way).
Notes: Here's my (slightly late) SW!Frankie Christmas story! This is dedicated to @lowlights for saying "All I want for Christmas is SW!Frankie" and I couldn't resist giving her exactly that. She also picked Frankie's holiday party outfit, which is absolute perfection and I would climb him like a tree if he showed up in this fit.
Takes place after Callback.
Cross-posted on AO3
Sex Worker!Frankie AU Masterlist
The internal monologue running in the back of your mind comments on the tasteful decor, how the poinsettias and fake candles and red and green tablecloths really dress up the restaurant. The thought that “HR did a really nice job” skitters through your mind, and the warm scent of cider and mulled wine and store-bought cookies all envelops you in a nostalgic holiday mood.
Well, it would, but on the other hand this holiday party might actually kill you. Honestly. And yet you have to pretend that you’re not dying inside, a calm smile on your face while you fight back against the urge to scream.
It all started with an email.
Hi Team!
It’s that time of year again - our annual holiday party! Please join us for appetizers and drinks at Lesandro’s at 6pm Friday, December 23rd. If you want to enter the raffle for a special prize, please email Alison for a ticket.
This was all fine and dandy until you got to the next line.
Plus ones are welcome!
You shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s not the first time your office has extended invites to partners. You had brought your ex-husband in the past, the brief sting of the memory flitting through your mind. It was to be expected every year, a night to enjoy yourselves on the company’s dime in lieu of bonuses.
You would gladly accept a check rather than the cocktails and finger foods, but you weren’t not on the planning committee.
A little tremor of excitement over that line lightened your spirits for the rest of the day. Thinking of Frankie schmoozing with your coworkers made a smile come to your face, and his solid comfort being by your side actually made you look forward to the event. The scales tipped more towards anxiety when you walked into your home, Frankie coming down the stairs with damp hair.
“Hey sweetheart,” he said, a quick squeeze of a hug before heading to your car for groceries. Worrying at your lower lip, you waited until you were both in the kitchen sorting produce before you spoke up.
“I’ve got a company party coming up in a couple weeks,” you said, toppling a few apples onto the counter.
“You’ll be out late?” Frankie asked, dumping fruit into a colander in the sink. The running tap let you take your time with your response.
“Actually, I can bring a plus one,” you tried to say breezily, rolling a stray lemon under your palm. It grounded you as Frankie turned to you. “If you want to come,” you added at the end. When his pause went on too long you hazarded a look up at him. He was smiling in that somewhat exasperated way that let you know you’d been overthinking again.
“Why wouldn’t I want to come? Maybe I can guess which one of those girls steals your yogurt on Wednesdays.” The remark made you giggle, leaning back against the counter as Frankie’s mischievous eyes eased your tension.
“I don’t know, I built it up in my head, asking you.” You shrugged, voice getting a little softer. “My ex never liked going to these things. Complained for weeks before and after, then would barely talk to me when we were there.” You shifted, crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t the first time you’d talked about your past relationships with Frankie, but having to feel the grief, the sickness in the pit of your stomach, the tension of revising those memories still made you want to crawl out of your own skin. Frankie’s hands, heavy and soothing, wrapped around your biceps.
“If you want me there, I’m there,” he said, rubbing your arms with a reassuring smile. You nodded, letting your forehead drop against his shoulder when he stepped closer. Sucking a deep breath in, Frankie’s clean musk and fresh soap smell released the tight muscles in your jaw. “Where are they having it?”
“Lesandro’s.”
“Oh, so it’s like, a nice party,” Frankie mused, hand kneading at the back of your neck where you held much of your stress. You melted into the massage, pressing your cheek to his plush chest.
“Eh, we come from the office, you don’t have to dress up,” you mumbled into his worn t-shirt. He hummed in response.
“Could be fun, though,” he said, working his thumb into the meat of your shoulders. “Dressing up for it. I’d like to make a good first impression.”
Leaning back, you raised an eyebrow at Frankie.
“Oh really?”
He blushed, and you thought your heart might explode at the sight. Slipping your fingers into the wisps of gray-brown hair at the nape of his neck, you swayed against your boyfriend.
“Then bring your A-game, handsome.”
Which is why you’re standing here now, close to literally exploding.
Because when Frankie texted to tell you he was here, you didn’t expect what walked in the door.
First of all, no Standard Oil hat. You didn’t expect him to wear it, but it’s such a part of himself now you forget he can go without it. He styled his hair loose and curling, not a wild mane but controlled wisps that flick out around his ears and bounce along his forehead. Little glints of silver you refuse to let him cover up at a salon catch the glittering lights in the restaurant. He’s wearing a white button-up, the top two buttons open to bare a delicious vee of tan skin around his throat. He clearly wasn’t patient enough with the sleeves, though, because he’s rolled them up around his elbows, accenting his strong forearms. You’ve never seen the pants he’s wearing, some sort of dark blue-black slacks that hug his trim hips perfectly before descending to black leather monkstrap shoes.
And he’s wearing his fucking glasses.
Your cunt throbs at the sight.
He searches the crowd, the smile that breaks out when you lock eyes making your legs weak. He weaves his way through your coworkers, a few watching him curiously as he scoots by. Once he’s made it to you, a hand on your lower back and a kiss to your cheek, the eyes that followed him now land on you. The pride this swells in your chest makes you giddy.
“Have I missed all the food?” Frankie asks in your ear, your response a shaken head. He mock-sighs in relief before Cindy strides up to you both, ever the nosy one. Her smile is too big, hand outstretched to Frankie.
“And who have we here?” she asks, eyes flitting between you both. You brim with a little more pride when Frankie takes her hand, giving her a kind but firm handshake.
“Francisco Morales, the boyfriend,” he says with a little jest in his voice, Cindy laughing louder than necessary.
This is the theme of the night, Frankie approached by coworkers and chatting his way through the first impressions. You smile and schmooze along with him, but inside marvel over how smooth he is. The perfectly timed jokes, the attentive smiles. As Cindy (and some people you’ve never even met) approach and leave, he knows exactly how to engage and play off their differing personalities. Giving space to the chatterbugs, coaxing conversation from the quiet ones, engaging in interests and offering his opinions.
“This won’t be my first time in a room full of strangers with high expectations,” Frankie had said a few days before when you offered him an out on the party. The implication flew over your head until he added, “I’ve been hired as an escort too.”
The revelation led to another one of those matter-of-fact conversations that were so fascinating with Frankie. He talked about sex work (and escorting, in this case) with no more emotional attachment than discussing what cars he worked on.
“I did a charity event once, older woman who wanted a younger man on her arm but didn’t want to look pathetic.”
“A girl had a bodyguard fantasy we played out at the Plaza. One of the nicest hotel rooms I’ve worked in.”
“You learn a lot by acting like the trophy, and people will tell you the wildest shit if you just listen.”
All of these skills were in action now as you watched him listen to someone from customer support discussing chatbot services. The second glass of champagne in your hand is warming under your fingers but you barely notice because this is a Frankie you rarely see. He’s in an element that’s foreign to you, used to his soft competency and attention and now witnessing his surety, his confidence, his ease at shifting into exactly what everyone wants.
Even the moments when you feel a stab of jealousy - Debbie touching his arm when he makes a joke, how he gives everyone his undivided attention - he always makes his way back to you. His hand rests on your lower back, pulling you into conversations when you’re being edged out. And when you’re leading, having a discussion with a coworker, he listens closely by your side and nods along, even if you know he’s lost as to the topic.
It’s turning you on way more than you want to admit.
The party is grating on your nerves after an hour and a half, your brain screaming at you to leave. Listening to Carl complain about the cost of events planning pales in comparison to showing Frankie exactly how much he’s been affecting you all night. The ache only worsens when you catch a glimpse of his profile, smiley and easygoing, as his shirt gapes to reveal no undershirt underneath. You could slip your fingers inside and drag them along the smooth expanse of skin there, before slipping them down to pop every button open as you descend lower and lower…
“Your man not dress up for you much?”
Erica, one of your favorite coworkers and confidant, sidles up next to you as Frankie tries to leave a conversation by the drinks table, two glasses in hand. Your face heats up as you fan yourself surreptitiously with a napkin.
“Mmmhmmm, okay no need to answer that one for me. Boss left ten minutes ago, go get your man out of here before Johnson bores him to death,” she murmurs, giving you an approving look before going back to her lost-looking husband. Her revelation, coupled with your increasing need, rockets you across the room to Frankie’s relieved face.
“Sorry Johnson, I need Frankie for a minute. Nice seeing you!” you rush out, depositing Frankie’s proffered glasses on a waiter’s tray. Hands free, you tug Frankie to the exit, his voice lost in the rush of blood to your ears.
Out of the stuffy room and into the cooler night, Frankie huffs in surprise when you push him back against the building’s exterior and steal a heated kiss, a quick press of the lips preceding your tongue pressing into his mouth, stifling his moan with your own. Taking the hint, he pulls your hips flush with his, attacking your mouth with as much fervor as you’re giving. His teeth scrape against your tongue, letting you grind him against the concrete wall before he spins you to switch places.
“You had to wear the fucking glasses,” you gasp when he pulls back enough to nibble along your jaw.
“Thought they’d make me look smarter,” he whispers in your ear, palming one breast with the broad expanse of his hand. You mewl under the attention, mind hazily realizing you’re way too out in the open to be getting groped so thoroughly.
“Thought you’d ruin my panties is more like it,” you hiss back, spreading your legs to invite him between them. He shakes his head against your neck.
“Not here, let me take you home and take my time,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss behind your ear. The whine you squeeze out surprises you both, “needy little thing” the next words that Frankie drips against your skin.
“C’mon Frankie, feel how wrecked you made me,” you goad, the roll of his hips against your core revealing Frankie’s desire as plainly as your own. Stealing a glance towards the front door, he slides a hand under your skirt and swiftly pulls your panties to the side, sliding two fingers through the slick mess.
“Fuck, baby, all this for me?” he asks, and the buck of your hips against his hand slides his fingertips inside you shallowly. He growls in your ear, that feral noise that makes you want to push him until he snaps and takes from you. Pulling you away from the wall, he sucks his wet fingers into his mouth with a flash of darkness in his eyes.
“Get in the truck, we’re going,” he says quickly, his stride longer and faster paced than usual. His own need mirroring yours makes a wicked idea bloom in your lust-addled mind. It would get you into some trouble, but the reward would be as good as the punishment. Maybe better.
Frankie buckles in and drives you swiftly out of the parking lot, your house only a twenty minute trip from Lesandro’s. Twenty long, aching minutes with Frankie so close you can almost taste him. You need to taste him.
Palming his hard cock through the slacks earns you a groan and a swat at your hand, Frankie’s knuckles tightening on the steering wheel.
“Baby, stop, I need to get us home. You can last twenty minutes,” he admonishes, which only mounts your need. Another long stroke, another warning, and you’re popping the top button of his pants open. He says your name now, hand coming to wrap around your wrist as you slide his zipper down.
“Please, Frankie, just let me taste you. I’ll be good, I promise,” you beg, one hand slipped under your own skirt and sliding through your slick. “You got me so worked up, I just want to make you feel good.” Leaning over you blow a puff of hot air onto his cock, still straining against his boxer briefs. A string of curses fall from his lips as you mouth him, wetting the cotton with your tongue.
“Fuck, you just can’t wait, can you? Okay, baby, okay, but you can’t…you can’t suck me off, I’ll crash the fucking truck if you try. Just hold me in your mouth if you need it that bad,” Frankie gasps, the words finally allowing you to slip his cock from its confines and into your hot mouth. He groans loud at your heat engulfing him, your clever fingers finding your clit and stroking quick circles as you try your best to follow his rules. But Frankie is large and thick in your mouth. You can’t help sliding back up to adjust your jaw wider. Or when you slide back down your tongue flattens against the underside, lapping at the thick vein. That’s just a force of habit.
When you hum at the feeling of his head brushing the back of your throat, you can’t help but admit that you’re doing it on purpose.
“Fucking Christ,” Frankie swears, and you feel the car move from asphalt to dirt before coming to an abrupt stop. You slide your lips up and off his cock to ask why he stopped, but Frankie is already unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you up to his mouth. He crashes his lips against yours, holding you in place with one firm hand on the back of your neck.
“Little tease,” he purrs, and the rush of heat to your cunt has you arching into his chest, burying your wet fingers in his hair. “I was going to take you home, spread you out on our bed and make you cum so many times you’d lose your voice.” Frankie’s thick fingers pinch your jaw, widening it so he can delve deeper with his tongue. You’re practically dripping on the bench seat, trying to move to your back but he holds you there, and the roughness of his touch makes your body thrum like a live wire.
“Was going to lick this pretty pussy until you came on my face, then flip you over and do it again. Maybe even tease your perfect little asshole,” he continues, your heart hammering in your chest as he pushes your arousal higher and higher. “Then I was going to make you cum around three fingers. Get you to squirt for me.”
“Frankie, fuck, please…” you whine, hips rocking against nothing, but he wraps his hands around them and bumps your noses together.
“Oh I’d have you begging by then too, but no, you couldn’t behave. Couldn’t wait the twenty minutes to get you home.” Your world spins as Frankie turns you to face away from him, pulling your ass tight against his hips. Heat blooms along your chest and face when you realize you’ve pushed him enough to lead to this.
“So you’re getting what you wanted, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you, needy little thing. Gonna give you my cock and you’re gonna take it just like this.” With that he flips your skirt up over your ass and slides his cock through your slick. Your jaw drops open; the truck is barely off the road, hidden by a few overhanging trees and a lack of streetlights but still very visible to another car passing by. Thighs trembling, you try to steady your breathing. It’s dangerous and mollifying, exhilarating and terrifying.
“You know what to say if you don’t want this,” Frankie murmurs in your ear, gentler than before. You do, you know the colors and the words that will slow Frankie down. But like hell do you want that right now.
“Green, handsome,” you shoot back, wiggling your butt against him. He chuckles darkly, guiding your hips to slide his cock over your clit.
“Then put your hands on the door,” he says, nudging you forward to brace yourself against the passenger door. Knocking your knees apart, Frankie’s bulk settles against your ass before his thick head begins breaching you.
Eyes rolling back and your mouth open in a silent moan, you savor the girth of Frankie’s cock with no preparation. You’re so slick and yielding, but he always stretches you to your limits. Even as he fucks shallowly into you, getting you used to him, you beg for more.
“Please Frankie, fuck me, want you to wreck me, been wanting you inside me all night,” you groan, pushing back to bury him deep inside, grinding the base of his cock to tease your throbbing clit. Frankie’s hands tighten around your hips, and with a sharp snap that knocks a gasp out of you as he sets a powerful pace.
The truck cabin fills with the lewd sound of Frankie’s fat cock fucking into your wet cunt, his guttural moans mixing with your higher ones. When you look behind you, Frankie’s baring his teeth and puffing air through his nose, curls sticking to the sweat at his temples.
“This what you need, beautiful? Needed me to pound this pussy until you can’t think? Needed me to claim what’s mine?” His filthy words hit a chord deep inside you didn’t know existed until he spoke it into life. You roll your hips back against him, leveraging your thrusts with your hands on the door.
“Yes Frankie, need you to fucking take me, make me yours, take what you want, I want everyone to know I’m yours,” you babble. A sudden crack of skin on skin makes you cry out, flooding your cunt with arousal. Frankie soothes the red handprint on your ass before tapping his fingers along it.
“Fuck, baby, you like that?” he moans as you nod vigorously in response. “Yeah, I can feel how much you liked that. Take it,” he orders before he slaps your other cheek, admiring how your movements get sloppier as you writhe in pleasure. “Mine,” he growls, another gentler slap. “Mine,” he pants as he yanks you back and pushes your chest to the seat, arching your ass up high for him to keep pounding into. “Mine,” he growls into your ear when he folds over your body, his thrusts shortening but hitting that powerful spot, tightening you around his cock.
“Oh fuck, sweetheart, I can feel it, you’re so close. Cum on me baby, I’m…fuck, I’m yours,” Frankie gasps, the possessiveness now curling in your own heart as you listen to him rail you within an inch of your sanity while repeating “yours” under his breath.
“Frankie, please…” you ask, not sure of what you need but he nods against your spine. Threading his fingers between yours, he slides his other hand to your clit and strums it fast and hard, the intensity throwing you off the edge of your impending orgasm.
With a muffled shriek you cum, feet scuffling against the leather seats and your hips bucking beneath Frankie’s weight. He holds you down, guiding you through it as he works his cock slowly through the grip of your channel. When the aftershocks subside, Frankie pumps into you a handful of times, then pulls out to spill on your ass with staccato moans.
For a long moment the truck is filled with gasping breaths, Frankie using your own skirt to wipe up his spend. When his heat disappears you prop yourself up to catch him leaning against the driver door, legs splayed and his head tipped against the cool glass, chest heaving. It takes a moment to rearrange your limbs but you finally slide between his legs and rest your head against his chest. His arms come up to cradle you there, stroking your back. You enjoy the silence, the comforting cadence of Frankie’s breathing bringing you back down.
“Was that too much?” he asks, a little apprehension in his voice. “I know we don’t go down that kind of path often…”
“Frankie, that was fucking amazing,” you soothe, grinning into his chest. “And I instigated that, I knew what I was asking for. Though you did almost make me end it with that plan you laid out.”
“Oh did I?”
“Very tempting.”
“You made your choice.”
You both laugh a little, the glow of the truck’s clock reminding you of the late hour. But Frankie has one more question to air in the dark.
“You weren’t jealous tonight, were you?” he asks, tucking his chin to look at you. “Because nobody in that room held a candle to you tonight. Or any night. I’m yours, babe,” he says, stroking his thumb along your cheek. The love that blooms in your chest is all the answer you need, but you’ll still say it.
“I loved being yours tonight. And every night.”
After getting back on the road, Frankie hums thoughtfully.
“If you wanted to do that every now and then…” he says tentatively, drawing your attention to his stunning profile. “You know, tease me, get me riled up, I’d be into that.”
A wicked smile curls your lips, half hidden in the dark.
“You like it when I rile you up?” you ask, leading Frankie’s hand back between your legs. You could find the energy for another round, your folds still soft and dripping. He gives you a look like he could devour you whole.
“I like it when I can show you you’re mine,” he rumbles, cupping your sex as the minutes until you’re home tick by.
“Show me again, then.”
END
The story continues in Frankie's First Time
#francisco catfish morales x f reader#francisco morales x you#francisco morales x reader#francisco morales x f!reader#frankie catfish morales x reader#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales fic#frankie morales x reader#catfish morales x reader#frankie catfish morales fanfiction#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier fanfictions#triple frontier fic#triple frontier fanfiction#sw!frankie#prolix fics
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so chill
Summary: yusei has questions about the dress code for hideo's upcoming charity gala
Rating: T
Ships: Yusei Fudo/Aki Izayoi
Notes: written for @ygoadvent. references to teens having sex & public sex.
read on ao3 / support me on kofi / join my discord (18+)
Her father's stupid Christmas party was right around the corner, and well, part of it involved some sort of ugly sweater competition. She hadn't paid much attention to that part of the invitation, but Yusei seemed strangely fixated on it. "Your dad is throwing a Christmas party," he questioned as he glanced over the invitation her dad made her bring over to him. "And... what exactly is an 'ugly Christmas sweater'?"
Aki flushed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, don't worry about it," she said, shaking her head. She didn't know how to explain it, but she was certain that Yusei wouldn't want to get involved in it. "It's just a stupid competition to find a sweater so garish that people give you a prize for it."
Yusei frowned at this, looking back at the invitation. Aki knew what the prize was for first place: a donation of one hundred and fifty-five thousand yen to the charity of the winner's choice. Her father never liked to give out actual gifts for this sort of thing, but it was the kind of thing that would tempt Yusei. She wasn't surprised when his gaze lingered on the prize, and he turned to her. "Would you help me pick out one that could win?"
"Sure," she said as she sat down next to him, taking the invitation out of his hands. "I mean, I don't care for these silly things much anyway. I imagine papa will want me to wear a nice dress for this event. It's already supposed to be a charity event of sorts, but you know. He never could resist showing off, I guess."
"I thought you and your father were getting along better these days," Yusei remarked with another one of those head tilts - like he was a puppy trying to figure out where the ball went. Maybe that was an unfair description, she mused. No, maybe it was more like a fully grown dog sniffing out where the treat had been hidden. "Wait... you'll be dressing up for this?"
She shrugged in response. "It's a Christmas party. Girls are expected to dress nice for the occasion," she said, settling in next time with a small grin. "Why, are you excited to see me wear a nice dress?"
He tossed the invitation to the side, moving to hover over her with a smirk. "Do I at least get to help you pick out the nice dress?"
"Perv," she teased, picking up the nearby pillow and smacking him with it. "Last time you asked to go outfit shopping with me, you were trying to sneak into the dressing room!"
"Is it really 'sneaking' if you willingly let me in," he mused before leaning in for a light kiss. Well, he had a point there. Still, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'll help you pick out a dress, you help me pick out the worst Christmas sweater we can find?"
Aki nodded as she wrapped her arms around his neck with a laugh. "Okay, that sounds fair," she said, pulling him for a kiss. And with that, they didn't think much about wearing clothes at all for the rest of the night.
#ygoadvent2024#series: yusei and aki's first holiday season#faithshipping#faithshipping: canon divergent#5ds#5ds: canon divergent#rating: t
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20 Qs for fic writers
@slytherizz you're a gem. Thanks for the tag, darling
How many works do you have on AO3? Exactly 1. There may be more eventually, but for now, that's it.
What's your total AO3 word count? 36,549
What fandoms do you write for? Hogwarts Legacy
Top five fics by kudos? Top 5? I have exactly 1 lol. So, here's to my baby: Sanguinis et Omnium Fractorum!
Do you respond to comments? Yes - I get nervous sometimes, though. Like not knowing exactly what to say back. So sometimes it takes me a bit.
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I haven't officially published any of my angsty endings. Though, I might have a few others in the works with much more bittersweet endings
What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? SOF will eventually get a happy ending so I guess it will be that one whenever it gets finished.
Do you get hate on fics? No - I'd probably crawl into a hole never to return. I only want to be perceived for praise. Thanks.
Do you write smut? Sometimes....I don't share it often, though.
Craziest crossover? The Secret History x Hogwarts Legacy
Have you ever had a fic stolen? No, I'd be very surprised
Have you ever had a fic translated? Not unless you count me translating my own garbled thoughts into something mildly readable
Have you ever co-written a fic before? Ah.. nothing official. Though the Willow girlies all have a history of bouncing ideas off of each other that sort of end up cohesive lore/writing.
All time favorite ship? Willow has my heart (Henry Winter x Sebastian Sallow) It was written in the stars, and you'll never convince me otherwise. Fav crackship
What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Oh gosh. There are so many in my head that I've yet to put onto paper. More Wilow ramblings, I've got a Seb Dad/Daughter fic thats been playing around in my head for some time that I keep meaning to write down but never get around to for some reason.
What are your writing strengths? So much angst. lol. I've been told I'm quite descriptive.. So I guess that's a strength.
Thoughts on dialogue in another language? My Seb is very much a polyglot. NERD. So I may try to incorporate some other languages into my fic, though I do cringe a bit at using Google Translate. So we'll see how much ends up there
First fandom you wrote in? Hogwarts Legacy was the first I've ever written for. I never even really wrote before this at all other than some random little stories when I was a child
Favorite fic you've written? Oh Gosh. There are some longer HL works I haven't published that I do love looking back on. They're a bit rubbish, but I can see my writing grow through them and that's very cool to see. Otherwise, SOF was the first I ever put into any kind of public space, so it will always be special in some way I think.
No twentieth question - I've met so many delightful/wonderful people through this little fandom and I'm so grateful for all of them. You darlings all know who you are.✨
No pressure tags💕: @diligentcranberry @sunnyrealist @juneymont
@rypnami @quackwizardry
Blaze
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Keep Me in Love (3,454 Words)
Pairing: Minsc/Tav Warnings: brief stalking and mentions of harm/SA A/N: this chapter got way longer than i thought it would be so splitting it lol all smut next chapter Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @astarionsbeloved @razrogue
Read at AO3!
Penelope's legs feel like jelly, but she powers through, returning to the stage area of Sharess'. She sighs as she sits at a corner table. Phantom touches dance across her skin, her eyes shutting as she lets herself remember him. She grimaces and scrunches up her nose as she leans forward, remembering she's still in public. Why does Minsc feel different than other romps?
She catches the eye of her old friend Rhol, her burning eyes dancing as she slips off the stage. Penelope perks up as her friend sits in the chair across from her. It's most likely against the rules for her to interact with Penelope casually since Penelope hasn't officially returned to work, but Amira doesn't notice, and neither do the Tieflings care.
"Penny! Or should I say the Savior of Baldur's Gate? You should be up there with me. People have been asking for a duo dance like old times." Rhol reaches for Penelope's hands, and Penelope smiles brightly as she squeezes her hands back.
"I don't know... But that's for another time." Penelope says quickly, the thought of working again making her stomach heave. Rhol nods quickly, their tails intertwining under the table. "I'm sorry I haven't visited in a little while," Penelope says, the panic easing as Rhol's eyes roll.
"I'm just happy to see you, friend."
Penelope's smile softens. "You too. We have a lot to catch up on, but not right now," Penelope says, her eyes shooting to the curtains.
"Don't worry about Amira. The bard for the evening is on his break, getting drunk and probably trying to flirt with Irena. We're safe." Rhol states. "And if Amira acts high and mighty because you don't want to work yet, then we can take a walk."
The statement doesn't help Penelope, but she smiles nonetheless. "No more talk of Mam. I just got laid!" Penelope blurts out, trying to keep her voice low.
Rhol's eyebrows raise. "My, my. For free?"
Penelope nods, letting go of her friend's hands. "You're never gonna believe who!"
"I know them?" Rhol asks, confusion starting to take over.
"Not exactly. Heard of stories. He helped me defeat the Absolute." Penelope says, dancing around Minsc's identity.
Rhol's eyes narrow, her lips pursed together. "I won't lie to you, Pen. I didn't pay much attention to the Absolute as long as they didn't try to tempt me."
Penelope smiles, trying to suppress her giggles at the honest answer. "If I didn't have to be the hero, I would have done the same... Well, try to." She doesn't have to bring up her late partner as Rhol starts guessing.
"I didn't hear anything from Nym or Sorn about it, so I'm guessing it wasn't Drizzt. Hmmm...."
Penelope's mind drifts as Rhol starts going down a small list of people she knows. The warmth of Minsc's lips between her thighs floods her mind; how hungry he was for her. She clenches her jaw to hide her shudder as the tip of her tail climbs Rhol's in excitement.
"Minsc of Rashemen."
Queen Rhol sits back in her chair, a smile dancing on her lips. "Oh, I wasn't expecting that. I thought he was busy being the Stone Lord. Was his hamster there?"
Penelope frowns, also sitting back. "He's back to normal. Jaheira and I helped get him out of the Absolute's clutches."
Rhol's eyes widen at the mention of another legend. "Wow, I suppose saving the world will bring you across many important people." Rhol muses, watching the curtain behind Penelope.
"I'm surprised I can walk right now," Penelope says, resting in her chair. "My poor legs," She whines, and Rhol rolls her eyes.
"He is a big man from what I've seen. Has it been a while between all the saving the world and whatnot?"
Penelope scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. "Not for me, but with him..." She sighs, "He already wants to see me again tonight." Penelope adds, watching her friend giggle.
"Of course. You did have a lot of repeat customers," Rhol replies.
"I don't know where to take him. I don't think he has a home, and I don't want to take him to my place. Mam would throw a fit if I had a free room again."
Rhol's eyebrows shoot up, "A free room? No wonder Amira was in a smug mood earlier. Take him to that bath house. They prefer it free there." Rhol suggests, her eyes flicking back to the curtains and then Penelope. "I'd suggest sooner than later," She says as the lute boy returns, smiling at Rhol before going to his corner to tune up. "My next shift is about to start... Come by more often, please? We need to catch up."
Penelope stands, her legs feeling better, pulling her friend into a hug. "I will! I promise!" She misses the hugs from her friends and the mischief they would get into, especially when some human would want to experience them simultaneously. She kisses Rhol's cheek before slipping from the Sharess' Caress through the back.
Penelope takes a sharp breath as she stands in front of the grand bath house. Its facade matches the Wavemother's Temple nearby. She's never been, following Mam's strict orders not to go. Amira had an inkling it was another brothel house trying to take her business even though Nym and Sorn told her it wasn't.
"They don't even allow that sort of debauchery in their rooms," Nym assured while Sorn rolled his eyes. "I haven't gotten kicked out just yet, but they didn't like it when one of their sailors solicited me. Though sex without money is fine for couples."
It didn't ease Mam, but she allowed the others to go. Penelope never wanted to displease her adopted mother and thus stayed away. Until today. Rhol's assurance earlier calms Penelope down as she whispers a sending spell for Minsc. "There's a bath house in the Lower City. Let's meet here tonight." She sighs as she starts down the cobblestone path.
The last sending spell she cast was to Gortash back on the beach near Emerald Grove. How frantic she must have been, asking for his help, unsure of what had happened. The silence on his end haunted her until she found Shadowheart also on that beach. She shuts the thoughts of Enver down, shoving them in a corner. Tonight is about the future. She can't let Enver take that away. She shudders before she crosses the threshold, the yellowish marble and deep teal accents taking over her sight.
Every statue is dedicated to the Bitch Queen Umberlee, and the sea and Penelope notes mostly men lulling about, a stark difference from the temple itself. Must be where the sailors go when the priestesses tell them to fuck off, Penelope guesses as she decides to sit on the edge of the fountain.
Minsc's voice fills her mind, her heart skipping beats as she closes her eyes, letting his reply flow through her. "Ah, Minsc has been there before when he was the Stone Lord. The food is filling, and the mead is tasty. Boo also loves their--"
She laughs to herself as it cuts off suddenly. He must not know the word limit. Before she gets up, she casts another sending message. "Good to know. I will be here all night, waiting for your embrace." She hesitates, wondering if that was too forward, quickly adding, "And to see you."
She stands, smoothing her skirts as she approaches the receptionist. At first glance, she's a human, but her webbed sharp ears give away that she is not, as well as when she flicks up her dark eyes to look at Penelope. A water genasi. "Hello! Welcome to The Baths of Black Seas. Do you have an appointment or booking a room?"
"Appointment?" Penelope asks, trying not to stare too hard at the beautiful woman. Her eyes are bluish-green with black sclera; her shimmery blue-black hair is slicked back so that her prominent fish-like features can shine. A sailor could call her a siren incorrectly.
"Yes! We have appointments available for massages and our spa." Her voice is upbeat, though quiet. Penelope has to lean to hear the woman better. She vaguely remembers Rhol mentioning that in the past, saying they should go for a spa day, but they never got the chance.
"Oh, I'll have to do that another time, but thank you for the information," Penelope says politely, smiling at the woman. "I would like a room, however," Penelope says, sitting back on her heels. The woman goes to the keys, "How many people?"
Penelope's skin heats as she quickly answers, "Two. He'll be here later. Had a few errands."
The woman stiffens at the mention of a man, turning to face Penelope. "Ah, I see... Do you work for Sharess' Caress?"
The question turns Penelope's stomach, and she waves the question away. "It's not for that if that's what you're thinking. I'm not getting paid to be with him." She avoids saying his name, but the woman doesn't move further.
"We don't allow prostitution in this institute."
Penelope scoffs, "I don't work for Sharess' anymore. Am I not allowed to spend time here with my man? He spoke very highly about this place."
The woman shakes her head, "It'll be better if you and him were here together to reassure us--"
"I highly doubt Minsc would appreciate this," Penelope suddenly cuts her off, feeling tired. She would be spent if she had to cast another sending spell before eating something.
"Minsc?"
"Yes, Minsc of Rashemen." Penelope says, irritation starting to rise. It would be easier to take him to her loft at this point, but she isn't sure if she wants him to know where she lives just yet.
The woman relaxes. "He's never brought guests before, but he is also very respectable. The Stone Lord has been good to the Lady." She hands Penelope a key.
"He's not the Stone Lord anymore," Penelope says, raising her eyebrow.
"Oh, well, the Hero is welcome here any day, ma'am." She bows slightly, and Penelope brings her lips together in a thin-lipped smile. "Who is the owner of this establishment, by the way?"
The woman stiffens, knowing the reason Penelope would want to know. If the roles were reversed, she's sure the woman wouldn't spare Penelope from a lashing from Mam.
The owner is a Priestess of Umberlee who profusely apologizes for the woman's questioning. "You are all welcome here. We get bad actors here sometimes, and we have to be careful. Please do not tell Minsc." She wonders why the woman would care what she tells Minsc, but Penelope reluctantly tells her she won't.
Penelope closes the door carefully to their room, taking in the inn decor. It's mostly gold or marble, with hedonism dripping from the walls. She wonders what Minsc and Boo know about this place as she slips her clothes off, letting her garments fall to the floor. She muses when Minsc will join her, if he will get right to it, or if they will go to the baths and take their time. She lies on the bed, resting on the pillows, her legs spreading. She wants him now. Her irritation rises the longer she waits. Her hands find her breasts, massaging the mounds as her mind flits to earlier, his hungry mouth. A small moan escapes her lips, her other hand slipping between her thighs. She closes her eyes as she runs her fingers over her slit.
She stops herself, sitting up with a huff. She can't get worked up when he's not here. Not yet, at least. She slips off the bed and goes to the bath. The view of the Chironthar, a gray and muggy sight, hangs over the grand pool. She imagines that when building this suite, they wanted to invoke the grand sights of old. It doesn't quite work now, but she moves on, checking the oils and soaps they have available. She imagines massaging Minsc's back, his tensing muscles, and deep moans.
She runs water from the sink and splashes her heated face. How come one time has her in an uproar? She has slept with so many others, but it has been a while since someone was excited. Astarion does his best, but perhaps she's bored? She should judge Minsc more harshly this time. His skills could have been better and more comfortable. But he was eager. She goes back to the bedroom, checking the time.
The sun starts to hang lower in the sky, as does the brow on her forehead. They should have planned better. A specific time. Surely Boo wouldn't keep him out all night... Her stomach growls loudly, snapping her back to Faerun. In all the work from earlier and now, she's only had a nibble. She finds a fluffy white robe covering herself. Minsc did say the food here was good. She hopes he's correct as she follows the scent to the food hall. Penelope notes as she fills her plate with warm meat and fruits that the people primarily working here are men. She wonders why until she also sees mostly men walking around. She wonders if they hired mostly men to hammer in that this is not a brothel. She ignores the eyes of other patrons, sitting alone near the back.
Minsc would be here soon; they could dine together after worshipping each other's bodies again. She sighs, her mind filling with lust as she imagines getting on her knees, her mouth ready to worship, and Minsc's cock answering her prayers, stuffing her lips and throat. She stabs at her plate, bringing up a forkful of different meat. This will tide her over until her lover comes, and she will need the energy.
She ignores the man who sits in front of her, continuing to eat. She guesses he's a sailor from the scruff on his chin and messy brown hair. His skin is suntanned and windswept, slightly leathered. Must be older than her by a decade or so, the details not as attractive as they would have been if she still worked for Sharess'. He would not offer her anything she would indeed care about.
"I think you have the wrong place, lass. Where's your pap? Didn't he teach you not to go to strange places like this where strange men lurk?" He asks gruffly, a smirk on his lips as Penelope continues to eat, trying to ignore the nausea.
"He's most likely dead, saer. I can take care of myself." Penelope says, clipped, forcing herself to finish her food.
"Ay? You look like you can... Say, are you a succubus? Your horns... I's only seen those types in my dreams. I don't deal with devils often, though."
Penelope grimaces as the man does not go away. "Maybe there was a succubus or an incubus down the line, but I do not know." She says honestly, keeping her eyes lowered. The heart irises would only raise his ire or interest. She isn't sure which, only wanting him to leave her be.
"I see... You know, you're quite the looker. Some men here haven't seen a woman in months or years. And here you are, a vision. I reckon a smile from you would knock a few of them dead."
Penelope scoffs, still looking away from the man. "I'm sure you're telling the truth, but I'll keep my secret weapon to those who deserve it." Penelope replies, sipping her wine.
"Am I worthy then, lass?" He asks. Penelope admits his smile makes him attractive, but she is not easily overcome. Even though she no longer works for Sharess, it doesn't stop her from using payment as a deflection for men like him.
"I charge for that," Penelope says, taking one last bite.
"Charge? Are ye one of them whores? I should have known. Yer too pretty to be a normal lass." He chuckles, sitting back. "It don't bother me none. I like when you know what you're doing instead of flopping me noodle around like you've never seen a cock before."
Penelope grits her teeth, knowing her prices would make him swim away. She also glances around. The men around were indeed listening in. She knew they were. She noticed some shifting away when she mentioned charging for sex while others tuned in.
"Good to know it doesn't bother you, but unfortunately, I am not here looking for business. I already have a partner for the evening." She decides not to mention her prices in case he can afford it. The only cock she wants is Minsc's.
"But he's left ye by yerself. Are you sure he's a good partner?" He asks, fake concern thick in his sea-laden voice.
Penelope nods, "He had some errands to run but trusts I would be able to secure a room for us... He's a very jealous man." Penelope isn't sure if Minsc could be jealous but doesn't want to find out if she doesn't need to.
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, speaking to you has made me harder than a creation of Gond. A tug or two is all I need."
Penelope's cheeks heat, and she frowns. "Then do it yourself, saer. I am not going to anger my man for a vagabond."
The man's face turns red as he practically barks at her. If others weren't paying attention before, they sure are now. "A vagabond? You're a terrible liar. When your man doesn't show in one hour, I'll take what is mine."
Penelope rushes away, feeling awful that she didn't put her plate away, but worry takes over. She doesn't doubt the man's threat; if she went to her room, he'd surely follow her. Instead, she goes towards the bath halls, seeing the diverse bodies of people as they mingle in the water with the river sparkling in the distance. She takes deep breaths as she tries not to panic.
She sends one last message to Minsc, "When will you be here, my love? My heart aches for you." It's not a lie; she hopes it will urge him along.
His reply is faster this time, "Minsc is cleaning his mess, but we shall be together again within the hour. Did you eat? I recommend the roasted turkey. We can eat--" The spell cuts off again, and she relaxes. The thought of being with him makes goosebumps travel down her spine.
She sits down near the sauna room, looking down the halls. That man lurks, and Penelope stands quickly, walking around more as she sends another message. "Please hurry, dear Minsc. My beauty has bewitched a sailor. He believes I am lying about waiting for you and has threatened to hurt me."
Minsc's response is fast and loud in her mind. "DO NOT WORRY, PRINCESS PENELOPE! MINSC AND BOO WILL RESCUE YOU, AND THAT MAN WILL RUE THE DAY HE THREATENED THAT PRETTY LITTLE HEAD OF--" His yelling calms her heart as she returns to the front, seeing the genasi. She wishes she hadn't told on her, needing a friend like this. She is not as useless as she was months ago, strong enough to kill the Dead Three's chosen and the Netherbrain, but she doesn't want her spellcasting to get her kicked out before Minsc can get here. She doesn't want to cause a scene and decides to lure the man back to her room, Astarion teaching her something about daggers.
She locks her door and goes to her bag, pulling out the sussar dagger they made together. The silence spell embedded in it would help with the man's cries, and the Karabasan's Gift she drizzles on it would paralyze him before he could do anything more. She freezes when she hears someone walking near the door. She strains her ear, hoping it's Minsc and not her assailant.
"Ai, this room belongs to Minsc and his friend." Minsc's voice is far but clear.
"Says ye? Some Tief invited me for a tug. Are ye sure this is your room, big man?"
"My friend is indeed a Tiefling, but she told Minsc that some strange man has been bewitched and confused. Minsc rushed over to help her. I'm assuming you're the man trying to hurt my friend?"
The man yelps, and Penelope stashes her dagger away. She slips out of her robe, her nipples hardening at the man's pleas for mercy.
"When she says no, she means it! Never show your face here again, villain!" Minsc yells, and she hears the man shuffle away, the pitter-patter of his feet disappearing down the hall. She cannot wait for him to fuck her.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#baldurs gate 3#bg3 tav#nsft#bg minsc#baldurs gate minsc#minsc and boo#bg3 minsc#minsc#minsc of rashemen#tav: penelope#penelope x minsc#minsc x tav#writing#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#long post
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HELLO!
I like your work a lot like it's genuinely Hilarious so I thought you would be the best person to ask for this.
I want to make a writing tumblr for enhypen but I'm a little lost because I've never used tumblr (as a creator) before LOL just used twitter and AO3 to write/socmed for fictional fandoms (tbh this is my first time like being a proper fan of a kpop group as to occasionally liking a song or two).
Anyways! What I've gathered from my experience on twitter and the writers I've followed here is obviously your blog should have an intro about you (inc. what you're comfy with, what you write, etc.) and a master list of your works BUT some of Tumblr's mechanics are Confusing.
Like,
1) should I create specific tags for my asks?
2) on twt, usually you create a tweet like "Hi! New to #___twt, looking for moots blah blah" to get an initial burst of likewise new people to bond and communicate with, does it work similarly here and if so/not please elaborate TT
3) is the etiquette to reblog every work you like, or is that spammy and you should just like them?
4) is there any other advice you have for navigating tumblr (like odd quirks)
5) ALSO this is a small dumb question but in the fandoms I've been in until now we usually used socmed au instead of smau do you have any idea why that's different (low-key smau is smarter tho bcus it's a shorter abbreviation)
I think that's all. I tried going through your rules and intro again, but I didn't see anything on whether an ask like this was alright or not, but I hope it is! I didn't want to Like intrude, but I felt most comfortable asking you because you're also desi ❤️❤️.
Anyways!! If this is something you don't want to/don't feel comfortable answering or it's like annoying genuinely just ignore this, I don't want to be make anyone uncomfortable!
omg thank you so much ml, i'm so glad you enjoyed my works!! 🥹 welcome to the kpop community first of all!! did you recently become an engene? :') and welcome to the tumblr ff community too! honestly i feel like if you can navigate ao3 just fine then tumblr shouldn't be too difficult after a while but i'm sure it's confusing at first 😵💫
as for your questions i'll answer them in the same order you asked them:
1. honestly i'm not 100% sure if there's any real purpose behind specific tags for your asks other than organization personally LOL but it's pretty helpful if you want to go back to look through your asks for something instead of scrolling past all the posts on your blog !!
2. omg yes i love the twt intros 💗 honestly for tumblr i think i just started posting content right away whenever i made a blog 🤧 i think intros are usually just in your navigation anyways but if you want to talk to different authors then it doesn't hurt to send an ask!! usually people communicate with different authors via the ask box 🥰
3. all sorts of interaction is great but i think reblogs are preferred!! i typically use likes as my bookmarks and then reblogs to comment on work or share it to a wider audience. the algorithm for tumblr works so that your likes don't show for others (unless you make it public on your profile) but your reblogs are on the dashes of people who follow you
4. ooh i'd say make use of the tagging system!! using tags like #enhypen fluff or #enhypen x reader on your fics will make it easier for people to find your work 💘
5. HAHAH I USED TO CALL IT SOCMED AU TOO BEFORE I JOINED TUMBLR 😭 i still use social media au as a tag but i think smau is more widely used here!! not exactly sure why but im guessing its just easier to tag 🙂↕️ i get you tho bc i experienced the same culture shock
dont worry you're most welcome to send asks !! 🥰💘 and thank you for reading my rules and intro!! i definitely don't turn away anyone who's looking for advice <33 also omg fellow desi 🫶 welcome to enhablr !
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Three Strands Part I
@shinkaneweek, thank you for the prompts! This is kind of inspired by a dream I had a long time ago, plus I don't think I've ever done this trope. Mild allusions to Psycho Pass: Providence, but nothing too spoilery, at least in this installment! On FF.net and AO3
A cord of three strands is not easily broken. - Ecclesiastes 4:12
part 1: perspective
To be fair, he had asked for this.
The hotel’s upscale interior reflected the owner’s taste for finery. Ornate chandeliers, polished mahogany tables, delicate porcelain dishes. Begrudgingly, Kougami had to admit the coffee was good. Next to him, Akane had finished her own cup. He was used to her Holo disguise now, her lighter and longer hair, though he still had to move carefully, to adjust for the slimmer physique of his own.
Across from them, the planner opened a book of color swatches, already blurring into a gradient. “Now, I will say that most women want to be a June bride, but do you have a preference?”
“Autumn is fine.” Akane said. “I have no issue with waiting.”
“And you, sir?”
Kougami tried not to jolt. “Sooner rather than later.”
“Eager, aren’t we? I’ll put you for October then. How lovely! A wedding among the maple trees.” Then, the conversation veered towards budget and packages, leaving Kougami to reflect on how exactly this situation had unfolded.
***
To him, the mission was clear; the hotel had to be investigated. On the surface, Yume appeared to be a quaintly run business, but it had once been run by a criminal now in custody and the building had changed hands quickly. Too quickly. The new proprietress was Yanase Juria, a confident woman who appeared younger than her forty years. And despite her glamorous image in surveillance footage, reports of illegal immigrant labor were deftly buried in her file. And under her direction, the newly branded logo was a three-tailed fox.
So, Foreign Affairs had to be involved, and they met with Public Safety to negotiate jurisdiction. Unit One was already in the meeting room, Akane the newest addition. It might have been a pleasant afternoon, except for the arrival of the new chief. The man was deft and calculating, steering the discussion in Public Safety’s favor.
“And on that matter, we need to decide who will be going undercover.” Homura smoothly said. “Since this is a collaboration between our departments, it would only be appropriate to have a representative from each. Statutory Enforcer Tsunemori will be ours.”
Hanashiro nodded. “Of course. As for our end-”
Time slowed. There were a number of Foreign Affairs employees, experienced with undercover jobs. He didn’t know whose name Hanashiro was going to say, who she was going to pair with Akane. But he interrupted anyway.
“I’ll do it.”
All heads had swiveled towards him, a mural of shock and surprise. It was obvious what they were thinking: really? He could have been blistered by Gino’s appalled aura, radiating from the next chair over, and Sugo’s discomfort was marked by a cough. In his peripheral vision, Homura was like a statue.
Shimotsuki could no longer suppress herself. “Haven’t you already created enough trouble for her? And have you ever worked undercover before?”
“Someone wise told me to expand my expertise. Why not this opportunity?” And that was true. Also, he didn’t trust anyone else with her safety.
Then, Akane spoke up, her gaze warm. “I don’t mind. I’d be happy to work with you again, Kougami-san.”
“Likewise.” He muttered and promptly forgot the rest of the meeting. Foreign Affairs would reconvene at headquarters, and he was bound to get an earful but he didn’t care.
Afterwards, he found her by a vending machine, grabbing a bottle of flavored water. He punched the buttons for his own drink. “I guess we’ll have to call often, make our cover.”
“Well, it helps that we know each other.” She wryly pointed out. “The best ones have a core of truth.”
“So…what are we?” Damn, that came out wrong.
Akane raised her eyebrows. “What would you like us to be?”
An answer came to mind, but he suppressed the thought. “We’ll have to fit in with the clientele, while keeping our story believable. A business trip may not buy us enough time.”
She opened her wrist device, searching through photos of the hotel. “They host a number of events. Graduations, retirement parties, weddings…”
As casually as he could muster, he said. “A wedding would give us an excuse, even reserve rooms.”
She looked at him, her lips curving upwards in agreement. “Yes, it would.”
“If we’re engaged, you’ll need a ring.”
“Oh.” She glanced down, extending her left fingers. “Right. I didn’t think about that.”
He took her hand, turning it over in his own. “Let’s find you something suitable.”
Her skin was soft, her pulse a quick rhythm. “I can always borrow from Shion-”
“No. It should be yours.” Before he could stop himself, his thumb ran over that space. A ruby for her name, set in a thin band…
The sound of approaching footsteps brought reality back, and they pulled away from each other.
“We can talk more later.” Her cheeks were pink.
“Sure. I’ll call you tonight.” And he walked off, scratching the back of his head, where it felt intensely warm. Posing as a couple getting married…wherever he was, Saiga-sensei was surely cackling.
***
They toured the reception halls first, while the planner dug for details about their backgrounds. Kougami gave brief responses about their jobs – he was freelance, she was in the Ministry of Health. They’d met at work. The planner wasn’t satisfied, asking how long they’d been together.
Akane easily replied. “Eight years. But we’ve been on and off until recently.”
He flashed a sharp look at that, but she ducked her head. Still, her hand entwined with his, and he immediately noticed the cool silver of her fake engagement ring. It really did look nice, better than he expected, and he squeezed tight.
“And now, I’m not letting her go.” He sensed her eyes now, but he refused to give in.
They walked on, and the flashy taste extended to each offering; they made noncommittal comments, it didn’t matter anyway. However, the planner seemed to sense their lack of enthusiasm, beckoning them to a Japanese style garden.
It was actually outdoors; the rocks and shrubs were real to the touch. Smooth ceramic tiles outlined a path over the gravel, to a rectangular patio framed by elegant maple and pine trees. A fountain burbled, trickling water through three stony pools. This side faced the mountains, and at dusk, the sun would burn in the distance. There was no pretense here.
“It’s beautiful.” Akane breathed, and she stepped towards the middle of the walkway. She gave a whirl, her skirt aloft for an instant, and asked. “Don’t you agree?”
He stared at her smile, and his traitorous imagination clothed her in a white kimono, a white gown, a veil unable to hide a radiant expression just for him. “Yeah. Beautiful.” And it didn’t feel like lying at all.
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2023 Year Results
I have lost my ranking of favorite Thai BL/QLs that I made during half of the year, so I'm just going to write it anew^^
My Top BLs by the end of 2023:
1. Be My Favorite
2. Moonlight Chicken
3. Not Me
4. The Eclipse
5. Semantic Error (or if we talk only Thai series, then Bad Buddy!)
Honorable mentions: Only Friends, SOTUS, Laws of Attraction, Kieta Hatsukoi, My Ride...
I keep changing the places and Moonlight Chicken held such a strong place in my heart but now I'm also taking into account whether I liked all pairings and characters, so BMF finally took over. But I still can't decide whether The Eclipse is higher than Not Me, I might rewatch it endlessly but Not Me was a cultural reset :D As well as Semantic Error who's done so good and finally broke through the typical Korean BL setting and public's favor.
Bad Buddy has done amazingly as well but there are only 5 places in Top 5 ranking 🥲 I guess, the Our Skyy just dimmed my good memories about it a little bit x)
I love how this year we got shows that have expanded beyond the borders of usual BLs, they added mystery and mystic, action, time travelling, sitcom etc, mixed gentes, kept speaking out about many important things - from marriage legalisation to equal rights - that definitely had its own impact on real life, actors went on many fanmeetings overseas, from West to East, and overall... This was a good year, story and fandom wise.
My Fanfic Statistics
I stopped writing metas and somewhat distanced myself from the fandom when I felt that my views often didn't align with majority (and also got shadowbanned by tumblr?), but I wrote ~ 80k words on AO3 and drew >10-15 arts that I really enjoyed. I still have many wips so look forward to them!
I wrote way too many Only Friends fics whole I watched the show xD This was definitely a show that gave out ideas (and sometimes outrage) and lots of angst.
But Not Me fics are still my number one (though mostly because of all the crossovers with other series I keep writing about)
Also somehow Bad Buddy OT4 fic is now the longest fanfic I've ever written (both in Neglish and my native language). And it's still not finished but tbh even I don't know exactly how it will end, that's how self-indulgent this is but I'm so happy rhat many people were excited about this idea with me!
My Fandom
I also had a blast having various discussions in my own small community and people who wanted to share opinions and watch series together. You guys keep inspiring and supporting me in exploring many ideas, drawing art and writing many fics, I truly admire and adore you all, especially my fam @springkitten @xagan and also @thepancakelady @wereflamingo (I'm surprised how often we agreed with each other on somethjng but that's what makes discussions interesting xD).
Also I want to hug bad buddy server was a joyful discover this year too that inspired me to start learning Thai, our not me server that keeps being my safe comfort space and many hugs to some tumblr folks who I talk in replies and reblogs (I am truly bad at remembering usernames but if I ever chatted with you here, I am definitely thinking about you and your profile picture <3)
Here's to 2024 and more projects
I also started my FirstKhao AU visual novel, and though I thought I would be able to make it in a month or two and then got struck by Health Doing Bad for a long time, I'm definitely determined to finish it next year.
And we keep talking about making Poetry Zines with @springkitten inspired by lakorns/bls we watched and I'd like to try and make it happen 👀
I also want to return to commissions in a better way, because of political situation I haven't been able to continue drawing for my foreign friends but thanks to my other friends who are generous to help me with handling finances for me, I might be able to start drawing requests again! I also spent like 5 months fixing my health that kept me from creating I want to finish old ones and I'm really itching to return to drawings and other projects :D
And I have in my mind mastering pixel and 3d art as a part of my Changing Profession and Career Path in 2024 so let's hope I can lighten up everyone's mood with cooler art and animations 👀
Happy New Year and Happy holidays, everyone!
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Mismatch (or: Barry doesn't mesh well with leather)
In one of his visits to Parliament Tower, Barry tells Alice a story about him trying to deal with the Anderson brothers, with mixed results and incriminatory pictures to fill in the gaps. Barry wasn't keen on people laughing at him, but considering this was the first time he ever made Alice laugh, he could suck it up for the time being.
Pairing: Alice Wake & Barry Wheeler ♦ Words: 1832
[on ao3] ♦ [on squidgeworld] ♦ [read on site]
Barry took a deep breath after taking an equally big bite, the last bite in fact, of the casserole dish he brought with him that particular evening. He had been too busy that month to do it earlier, and to be frank, he liked being busy, but doing an escapade in between clients would be much easier if he didn't also insist on making the dish too. Curse his mom for instilling on him the miracles of a homemade meal.
Exhaling, he looked to the side. Despite him doing most of the talking Alice still had food on her plate, and while she looked significantly better than when he arrived, something told him he should probably stay a little more. He knew how it went. One minute it was fine and the next they were back on the tar pit. He remembered.
Humming, he called, conspiratorially.
"Hey, Alice." She raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
He dragged his chair just a bit closer, but not enough to be on her space.
"D'you wanna see something funny?" She eyed him with suspicion, but Barry put on his best face.
"...Sure."
Grinning, he quickly grabbed his phone, searching for something.
"You remember the Anderson brothers, right?"
"The senile old men you took off from retiring?"
"The older gentlemen I'm managing, giving them another shot at fame, yes." Scrolling, scrolling, he set the stage in the meantime. "Terrific fellas the two of them, really, and a great band... But they really like their aesthetic."
Alice made a face, as if trying to picture them. Good. Keep her engaged.
"Nordic, right?"
Barry laughed.
"Well, yeah, if the eye patch and the occasional hammer and their names are anything to go by. But no, no, I mean... They like their metal heavy and their leather black, if you catch my drift."
With a mouthful of food, Alice could only shrug and do a gesture with her hand, more confused than anything else. Barry looked at her with a smile when he finally found what he was looking for.
"So, the other day we were on a rehearsal, right? Toying with the idea of a new song and all that, and Tor -the one without the eye patch- keeps staring at me, right? Giving me a real stink eye, which is odd but you know, it happens," Alice's mouth twitched, "and I go
'Hey man, what seems to be the problem?' And he just keeps looking at me up and down like I, I don't know, like I'm dating his daughter or somethin', and he points at me like this and says:
'You're messing with our vibe, man, how can we practice if you're there looking like that!'
'Like what?' I ask, because, I swear, I was looking like I always do!
'All those colors and patterns, it's not rock & roll at all!'"
Alice's plate was nearly finished by now, and despite the slight huff, prelude of a laugh that never came, she kept squinting up at him and at his cellphone clearly wondering where this story was going. Barry gestured with his hands, trying to summarize.
"And now Odin joins in, puts a hand on my shoulder and goes
'It's okay, sonny, we know exactly what to do in these situations, we'll get you fixed in no time! We know places, you know?' Which is insane because they never set foot on New York before I brought them in but anyway. Long story short. Guess what happened."
She blinked, vaguely surprised there even was public interaction, but be it curiosity or wanting to get this over with she indulged him:
"I don't know, Barry, what happened?"
Barry shook his head dramatically, dragging a long suffering sigh before finally, finally, giving her his cellphone. Alice's eyes scanned the picture on it, eyes widening.
"They took me shopping. Said not to worry about the money, sonny, they weren't rock stars for anything. Said that they had all the time in the world until we found something I could wear that matches their energy, too -which is bullshit, of course, ‘cuz they're ancient, but I try not to think too much about that- So there I was, kidnapped by a couple geezers for an entire day, trying out clothes that were barely, barely more decent than what I imagine leather night at a gay club must feel like."
Barry was exaggerating for the bit, of course. It hadn't been an entire day and, all things considered, the clothes weren't half bad either. He even looked good in some of the outfits they arranged for him. But he never got around to liking dressing in black, it made him feel too serious, too formal. Like he was attending a funeral.
From the two, Alan had been the one who always looked good in black...
At the end of the day Barry couldn't pretend he didn't had fun with the old men however, he was growing fond of them crazy bastards. They even found a middle ground that evening! He would wear their awesome t-shirts (you just couldn't get more metal than that, he swore) and on top of that, his usual phony shirts. Free advertising! He chuckled, considering if adding that happy ending to his story or not when a snicker interrupted his train of thought.
Alice was scrolling through the pictures with a hand atop her face, a poor attempt to hide the growing smile when the creases around her eyes and the snickers that so wanted to become laughs betrayed her. Barry smiled, smugly and proud.
"Oh my God..."
"I know right." He scooted closer to see which one she was looking at and was met with his own face, red from embarrassment, as he pathetically tried making horns with his hands with a very excited Anderson brother in each shoulder looking as vibrant as vikings. He looked the part, with a leather jacket that made him feel like he was being cooked alive and a handherchief tied around his head that left a mark for the next two days. Barry shared that information with her, and he didn't even need to exaggerate this time for her to finally crack.
Hearing Alice laugh was... odd. In the grand scheme of things they've known each other for many, many years, yet it feels like the first time Barry actually heard her laugh. It was a joyous, bright thing. An old sneer crossed his face, remembering his beloved friend's own words when they first started seeing each other, but he had to agree.
It was surprising, too, feeling it break the quiet atmosphere of the department for the first time since... well. Since he's been dropping by. The clinical white light appearing just a tad warmer.
"Why, why do you look so...? So...?"
"So what? Red? Tight? Uncomfortable?"
"...Yeah..."
"'Cuz I was. Just look at this shit."
He went ahead and showed her the next pictures himself, grinning at the very physical reaction of Alice holding her stomach, laughing at the complete misery on his face. Misery, helplessness, eyes reaching out for help that never came. Who knew his discomfort was going to be enough to make her crack? That devious woman... Barry laughed. Maybe they could get along after all.
"You look terrible." He snorted.
"Yeah."
"It looks like they're holding you at gunpoint."
"Believe me, it felt like it."
"You..."
"Careful, lady. Only the first couple insults are free."
That sobered her up a little, raising an eyebrow.
"W, what's the price?"
Gotcha.
He looked up to the window, humming.
"You know, it's a pretty nice day outside. Sun shinning, birds singing, the whole shtick... When was the last time you went out for, say, grocery shopping?" Alice expression shifted, then, to understanding and disbelief. The ghost of her previous smile lingered, though, as she crossed her arms across her chest.
"I don't know. Couple of days."
"Tell you what. You get an unlimited amount of insults today if you let me help you go out, do some shopping, whatever. It's a one of a kind deal, doesn't even have to do with these pictures."
Alice stared at him in more than just disbelief, corner of her mouth still curved despite the cold pang of her eyes, and Barry took a breath. Throw the lure and wait for the fish to bite was easier said than done, moreso when the fish knew exactly what was coming, but he made sure to put on his sales pitch voice, the one he knew Alice despised. He just hoped it didn't backfire spectacularly.
"I, " she started, laughing a bit as she shook her head. It sounded more sardonic than before though. Acidic. "I hate you, Barry. You know that, right? I hate you."
He let the air he was holding. In a way, it almost felt better to have the chance to be honest.
"I'm well aware, yeah."
"That's not an insult, by the way, it's just a fact."
"I know, I know..."
"..." Her smile was almost an afterthought now, and Barry started to believe this was a bad idea, when her sharp eyes, that only seemed to be that way when he was around, softened ever so slightly. In dignified silence she gathered the last piece of food remaining on the plate and ate it with moderate gusto, and Barry sat back, itching for an answer. After cleaning the corners of her mouth with a tissue she took the phone out of his hands again, glancing at it with a much deeper, longer hum. "You... look like a circus clown who got mugged and had to get all his new clothes from a leather shop."
"Ouch!" He hissed dramatically, gripping the front of his shirt in mocking pain. "That really hurt... So, what would you like for dinner?"
"...Haven't had a good salad in a while, you know?" He wrinkled his nose at the blandness of the request, expecting something more grandiose, and Alice bit a laugh of her own.
"And a salad you shall have, then. The best salad you can possibly imagine." His statement was met with a raised eyebrow, before putting his bluster away for good, rising his hand to show he meant it.
Alice looked at it unimpressed, followed by a frown and a grimace that could be a smile, or a smile that tried so hard to be a grimace, before shaking his hand. Barry grinned.
"Pleasure doing business with you."
"Yeah, well." The grimace that could or could not be something else gave way to a genuine smile, a glint of amusement painting her tired eyes. "I guess you'd have more stories like this. I'm sure we'll have a lot of time today for you to tell them to me."
Oh, Barry was going to regret this for sure. But, for now, seeing Alice hold herself better, more stable, and seeing a warmer color breath life to her cheeks, was enough. He supposed it was worth it.
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5-fic self-rec!
Thanks for tagging me for this, @oluka (and the last line thing too except I had to pass on that one because I haven't written anything in a while other than the last excerpt I posted on here 😅).
Except for "Apricity," which is near and dear to my heart despite how much I itch to edit it (a constant issue I have with things I write), I went with some of my favorites that have flown under the radar.
Hm...this ended up more of a "hey, good job, me" post than a "I'm trying to find what's compelling about these fics to rec them" post. Oh well.
In order of publication:
Apricity (616 Steve/Tony, T, 1.5k)
My first fic on AO3! My first Steve/Tony fic! And somehow it was 616 instead of MCU. I love dark Steve, but I'm particular with how exactly he's unhinged and this is how I like him. Even-keeled despite being off his rocker. Rational in his own head. Soured on the world, but in a way that pushes who he is to the extremes so his core is still visible even if it's mottled with rot. And, of course, obsessed with Tony. I also like the tempo of this; I used to have a good grasp on tempo, but I feel like I've lost that a bit over the years.
Unraveled (Warrior (2011) gen fic, G, 1k)
Since it's a movie that doesn't have a lot of fanworks for it and it's a gen fic to boot, barely anyone has read this, but I don't care because it was written for a friend, @luxover. I love writing little stories to gift friends. If you haven't watched Warrior, watch it! Brutal tearjerker about a broken family and broken men and one of the few good sports movies out there. No, you don't need to know anything about MMA to enjoy it. I don't.
Okay, I should talk about this ficlet. I'm fond of this one because it's so different from my usual writing. It's stream-of-consciousness and entirely voice-driven like someone sat you down in Brendan's head and he's talking and talking even if he naturally isn't saying of this out loud. Because he and his brother Tommy are emotionally constipated; even if they love each other a lot, they don't know how to reach out to each other. They don't know if they're wanted. This also has one of my favorite last lines I've ever written. GUT PUNCH, if I do say so myself. ONE-TWO HIT, K.O. Sums up every layer of their relationship.
Hidden Declaration (Brad/Ray (Generation Kill), T, 728 words)
Another gift for a friend (the same friend)! Brad/Ray and MCU Steve/Tony share some similarities despite being drastically different, so is it any surprise I liked these two unhinged idiots? I never open for fic prompts, but this was when I was on a roll and then I got scared because lux asked for this. I never wrote for Gen Kill, I read maybe 3 GK fics in my life, and Ray is one of those characters who are impossible to write well imo (to be honest, I also feel the same way about Brad though the difficulty is subtler). He's an unusual guy with a very particular way of speaking.
And somehow this flowed out of me quickly. It's not without its flaws, but it was so different from what I usually write and how I do that it was really fun to write this! Very dialogue-heavy too which isn't what I'm known for. And the crassest (also...some language that's not okay as a warning, but if you know GK, it comes with the territory) and most sexual (it's still not very sexual lol) out of my fics. I think I captured how much they're best friends and they're so comfortable in each other's presence well. Plus I put a little wink for my friend at the end and it's one of the few times I like being indulgent with my writing. Also, tattoo fics are a trope and I guess this counts as my one tattoo fic though it's not an AU and there's no actual tattooing involved.
A Long, Final Rest Among the Stars (MCU Tony-centric/Nebula & Tony gen fic, G, 2.7k)
My tribute to best boy Tony, my first and ultimate love (along with Steve, of course) along with an expansion of the lovely bits of Nebula and Tony's tender friendship that we got to see in IW which I adored. They share a lot in common.
Writing this made me so sad because I felt like I was preparing to say goodbye to Tony. It made me reminisce about how it all started, and everything came full circle. His past is his present. Tony's trapped on a dark spaceship injured and far, far away from home. Tony's trapped in a dark cave injured and far, far away from home. There's a kind spirit with him, and even if they try to keep him alive, he's a dead man walking. But he's also come a long way from the man he used to be. I'M REALLY PROUD OF HIM, OKAY? I LOVE HIM.
The Burning of Flowers (616 Steve/Tony, G, 1.2k)
I secretly really, really wish more people read this fic. I wanted to write a Hanahaki AU for a while, but I couldn't figure out what I'd do that would feel fresh and then I came up with this subversion of sorts. Hanahaki AUs usually involve someone pining for their love and refusing to let go of it because it means so much to them. I thought I'd write about someone who doesn't have it—and simultaneously wants and doesn't want it—and wishes ill on the person he loves by hoping their love has it. And what better era to situate it than Hickmanvengers? You don't need to know Hickmanvengers to enjoy it, though.
I'm extremely proud of this one because it's one of the best fics I've written if I'm allowed to toot my own horn for a sec! Please let me because it's so rare for me to feel like I don't want to rip apart chunks of my fics and sew them back whole again, new and improved. I think this is one of my most complete fics in that way; I can probably tweak it, but I'm satisfied with nearly all of it if not all of it.
Anyway, I was in a slump and then suddenly the old magic returned and I slipped back into the writing style I used to have back in the mid-2010s except better. I could actually see that I've developed as a writer even if I'm still learning. But the atmosphere, the sensory lines, and the rhythm returned. I like the pace of this a lot and feel like it follows Steve's relentless rage, much like the unmoored, slower pace of "Apricity" reminds me of a colder Steve who never fully woke up from the ice.
Tagging @kiyaar, @meidui, @sineala, @whenas-in-silks, @sabrecmc, @magicasen, and two artists (rec your art!<3): @kappamairi & @massivespacewren
#me: i have no fears#me: what if people don't like these fics and that's why they're underrated#one (1) fear....except kdfjksafjalfjla i don't really care because i enjoyed writing these and that's what's important!#i don't care if i'm embarrassing myself because maybe i should take a break on getting annoyed at myself when it comes to writing#and pat myself on the back for doing the best i could at the time and still liking these now#okay i need to sleep soon bye
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World's dumbest spymaster (part 2)
Azriel/Eris
Summary: The way in which Azriel’s family learns about his relationship with Eris is not exactly the way he envisioned it.
Word count: 2795
Warnings: none
Part 1
Read on AO3
When Azriel arrives in front of the Cabin with Eris by his side, Rhys and Cassian are already outside and their slightly snowy clothes suggest that they have started the warm-up early. Rhys levels him with an indescribable look and Azriel suddenly regrets that he didn’t choose to avoid the confrontation for a little longer.
Heart in his throat he looks at Eris trying to discern what he's thinking but Eris is as composed and nonchalant as possible. His face is a perfect picture of relaxed confidence, shoulders straight but not stiff, chin up, eyes on the enemies. Well, probably not enemies anymore, they are a family now, right?
The thought makes him feel a bit hysterical so he abandons it for the time being.
His hand itches to grab Eris's shoulder and pull him close so he balls it forcefully and tries to compose himself. Cat's out of the bag now, it's too late to be nervous, the only thing he can do is own it.
Actually he would very much prefer to really own it, for example by taking Eris hand in his own or kissing him in the cheek or brow or just do anything, really, to show them all that he's not embarrassed. He's not ashamed of his relationship with Eris. He's not ashamed of Eris.
But he's not doing anything of the sorts in fear that this public display of affection would be unwelcome by Eris. Even in Autumn, when absolutely nobody would dare to threaten the High Lord if their relationship goes viral, Eris is very careful with maintaining appearances. He doesn't exactly hide Azriel, but he's not hugging him in courtiers' presence either.
The thought that Eris might pull away from his kiss or take his hand back now, in front of Rhys and Cassian, is unfathomably painful so he just stands there, ramrod straight, not touching Eris at all and waits for the hellfire.
"You look like you arrived at your own execution," Rhysand says and Azriel is not entirely sure if his tone is teasing in a nice way or more hostile way, the way that ends with him banished forever.
"Did I?"
"Execution by snow won't be easy but we can surely try." Cassian is already bouncing a snowball in his hand, the look in his eyes as amused as in Eris's room before. Pity that Rhys isn't sharing this sentiment.
Azriel can read people, he can read people really well, okay? But Rhys's face is purposefully closed and guarded and Azriel cannot say if he’s pissed, or disappointed, or sad, or one step from telling him to go fuck himself to Autumn and don't come back. Certainly he isn't vomiting rainbows and sunshine right now. Cassian's easy approach to the topic made him assume that all the inner circle is fine with the news. He assumed wrong.
"Can you just be out with it?" He snaps and Rhysand raises one eyebrow, the first sign of emotion on his passive face.
"Out with what?"
"With whatever you are hiding behind this mask of indifference right now. Are you angry with me?"
"I'm certainly not happy that my spymaster has been keeping secrets from me."
"Apparently I haven't since you already knew about it."
"I didn't know, I guessed. Cassian only confirmed it twenty minutes ago. Why didn't you tell me?"
"It's not the spy report, it's my personal life. I'm not obliged to tell my High Lord about my relationships."
"I thought I was your brother as well."
The implication that Rhys is the victim here doesn't sit well with Azriel. It sits extremely unwell. He does feel guilty but it's not like he was choking himself with this secret without a good fucking reason.
"You threw a fit when I wanted to pursue Elain. Was I to believe that you will pat my back when I tell you I'm in love with another High Lord?"
There it is. The L world just spilled out of him and he's so fucking angry at himself that he said it now, that it wasn't during private conversation when Eris learned about Azriel's hopeless little feelings.
He must admit though that he doesn't remember Rhys being so bewildered in the last decade and it gives him a little rush of satisfaction. His High Lord probably didn't anticipate any declarations of love on this fine day. How could he when even Azriel didn't anticipate it and it was his traitor mouth that got the best of him.
Cassian is stunned into silence as well but in his case it's not an exactly unusual occurrence. Cassian is sometimes stunned by a particularly appetizing cake. Probably none of them realized how deep Azriel's feelings for Eris go.
Idea of looking at Eris right now fills him with dread but he has to, the alternative of not knowing Eris's reaction to this confession is much much worse, so he dares to look. Numb relief washes over him as he sees that Eris doesn't seem to be angry or shocked or prone to any mocking. There's warmth in his amber eyes and the same warmth fills Azriel's heart to the brim.
He already feels like he threw himself off the cliff and doesn't have anything to risk anymore so he finally lets himself take Eris' hand into his own. Time seems to stretch and his heart thunders in anticipation, half expecting to be rejected, to be considered pathetic and weak, but Eris only squeezes his hand ever so gently.
The gesture feels monumental. It's earth shattering.
"So what, you forgot Elain and found the next most problematic person in Prythian?" Rhys's words interrupt Azriel's epiphany and his mood goes from elated to seething with anger in a nanosecond.
"Yes. That's the only thing I was thinking about when going into this relationship: you and how it will affect you."
"I'm sure you are aware that your choice of partner is not easy to navigate politically."
"You really think I didn't agonize about it for the last few months? But you know what conclusion I reached? I don't care. I'm sorry Rhys. I'm happy. For the first time in gods know how long I am really, truly happy. I won't give that up." The work he had to put into not letting his voice crack at the last sentence is immense but he's relatively sure he managed it.
"I'm not asking you to." Rhys's tone is suddenly much more gentle and now it is Azriel's turn to be stunned.
"Then what are you trying to say?"
"I'm trying to say that I'm disappointed you thought you couldn't trust us with it. It's a very different situation than with Elain. She is mated to someone else.”
Azriel feels a miniscule twitch of Eris's hand and he wishes desperately for Rhysand to stop bringing up Elain. He wishes for himself to go back in time and kick his own ass for the mere idea of mentioning her. What the fuck was he thinking? He doesn't want Eris to feel like he's the second choice. It couldn't be further from the truth but it's probably not the best moment to assure Eris about that.
"I’m not trying to forbid you from having a relationship or being happy,” Rhys continues, oblivious to Azriel's inner turmoil. “It's a political nightmare but I'm sure we can think of something that works for everyone."
"You are not going to fire me from being your spymaster?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Of course not."
“Then I won’t”.
All the fight he had stored inside suddenly leaves him and Azriel feels exhausted and adrift in his own overloaded mind that tries to shut itself to limit the stimuli. Eris’s hand is the only thing tethering him to reality.
Rhys is not going to banish him or punish him. He’s visibly not ecstatic about Eris but he’s not unkind either. He offered to try and make it work and it’s enough. Actually it's everything. It’s everything Azriel was hoping for - to be given a chance.
Some sincere congratulations and best wishes wouldn't be unwelcome either but let’s not push it.
He’s suddenly aware that Eris hasn't said even one word during all this exchange. His presence is steady and comforting but the silence seems uncharacteristic for someone who can decimate people with his charisma. Is he uncomfortable to stand here in front of Azriel’s brothers, while their relationship is being poked at with a stick like a dead carcass?
"Is that your idea of a snowball fight? Standing and looking menacingly at each other?" Lucien materializes out of nowhere, like he suddenly sprang from the box at the slightest mention of his mate.
“Yes, as you can see we are changing the formula this year,” Cassian snorts, throwing the snowball in his hand higher and higher, like he’s itching to put it in someone's face.
Lucien eyes the bouncing snowball warily for a moment and then his gaze goes to Azriel's and Eris's clasped hands. He doesn't seem surprised even one bit and a gnawing suspicion bites Azriel in the ass.
"You knew as well?"
Does everyone fucking knew? When Cassian said ‘the whole inner circle’ Azriel somehow didn’t think that it meant they were discussing his private life with Lucien as well.
"Yes. Well, ah-" Lucien is wincing in Eris's direction and Azriel turns to his lover trying not to stare accusingly.
"You told him?" It comes out extremely accusing.
"Yes.” Eris shrugs unapologetically. “It's not like Lucien would judge us."
"I honestly couldn't care less about who you fuck." Lucien is quick to assure.
Azriel can only stare and stare and stare. He didn’t anticipate the blow coming from this direction.
"Who else did you tell?”
Now, finally, Eris is starting to look a bit guilty.
"I might have told my mother as well."
"You told your mother?"
Eris's eyes become even more shifty and now Azriel is sure they’ve only scratched the surface.
"Who else?" he asks with a sense of impending doom.
"All my other brothers. And my second in command. And my stableboy, he’s a really nosey bastard. And judging by his comments I'm sure my mom informed Helion by now but that's not on me."
The only thing Azriel is capable of doing now is gaping. Eris just went and told half of his fucking court, didn't he?
"You spend a lot of time in Autumn, what was I supposed to tell them? That we are playing chess? Some of them are dumb, but not that dumb."
No. Apparently no one is as dumb as Azriel. He might be the dumbest spymaster ever. He was the only person still thinking that their relationship was a secret, when everyone in Azriel's and Eris's families and probably dozens of other fae talked about it freely with each other during their morning tea.
How are you Helion? Do you know that Azriel is fucking Eris? Oh sure, even my handmaiden knows, yesterday I heard people talking about it at the market…
"I'm not ashamed of you." Eris’s voice is suddenly very serious and something grips Azriel’s heart painfully at the implication that Azriel might be.
"I'm not ashamed of you as well," he says quickly but it doesn't erase this suffocating feeling of guilt. He didn’t exactly behave like someone who is not ashamed. Did Eris feel like he was some dirty secret, worthy only of sweeping under the carpet?
“That’s all very sweet but the snow is going to melt if we will stand here for one fucking minute longer.” Cassian looks like he reached the end of his patience so Azriel packs all his feelings in his pocket and dutifully starts rubbing snow in Cassian’s face. He will talk to Eris later. He will apologize and grovel and do other things to prove that he really cares, that he’s proud and not embarrassed at all. Right now there's a snowball fight to win.
They do manage to have fun in the end. After Rhysand alleviates all his hurt feelings by bombarding Azriel with snowballs, that’s it. Throwing each other face-down in the piles of snow seems to marvelously dissipate all the tensions.
Azriel assumed, again very wrongly, that the fight will be easier to win while having an obvious ally in the field. Eris turned out to be much more of a distraction than anything else though, with his hair mussed, cheeks pink from the frost, snowflakes on his eyelashes. Azriel stopped counting times when he got hit while staring at his lover sometime after twenty.
Usually he would be much more disgruntled to lose a fight but this time he just cannot find the will to care. Not when he gets to sit in the Cabin's huge bathtub, soaking in the hot water, while having naked Eris relaxing between his thighs and leaning on his chest. They did give up on the birchin in favor of this and he cannot possibly be more pleased and satisfied.
“I seem to recall you bragging about usually winning the snowball fight.” Azriel’s satisfaction seems to ebb away a little with Eris’s quip.
“You were distracting me.”
“I did nothing of the sort.”
“You very much did.”
“Care to say what exactly I did?”
“You were looking pretty.”
Eris snorts and lets his head fall back to Azriel’s shoulder and Azriel distracts himself by stroking Eris’s wet hair out of his forehead and feeling blissful about the fact that he can.
"My mother wants to meet you, you know. She's still a bit nonplussed about this whole strangling me at the High Lords meeting so you will probably have to say that you're sorry but other than that she's overjoyed that you are making me happy."
"Am I?"
"Didn't you notice that as well?"
This reminds Azriel just how dumb he is when it comes to things pertaining to relationships. He probably should have just talked with Rhys at the beginning of things and spared himself months of torment and Eris months of thinking that somebody is ashamed of him.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he tries again, though he very much doubts that the damage can be reversed just as easily.
"I never thought you were. And just so you know, I love you too."
The words make Azriel much warmer than the hottest bathwater ever could and he closes his arms around Eris’s shoulders a little tighter.
"I'm sorry I said it first in front of everyone".
"I don't mind. I'm sorry that I told everybody about our relationship and didn't inform you.”
“Why didn't you?”
“You didn't seem to be ready. I didn't want to force you or rush you into anything but I had to talk with someone or I would go crazy. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to brag to everyone interested that I managed to snatch the great Night Court’s Shadowsinger for myself.”
Azriel hides his snort in Eris’s hair.
"The great Night Court’s Shadowsinger is all yours.”
“Good.”
Good. Yes, that’s the word, it’s all good now. Azriel finally feels truly peaceful and truly relaxed, without the stress of hiding this relationship constantly gnawing at his consciousness. He could very well stay here forever, closed in a small, cozy space with Eris in his arms, a little tired after physical workout, but not tired enough not to start something more. They are both already naked after all, it seems like a wasted opportunity not to utilize it.
“How awkward do you think it is for Lucien to sit there with your brothers, naked?” Eris asks and promptly shuts all of Azriel’s thoughts about physical intimacy.
“It's very concerning that you keep circling back to this subject.”
“You will have to take me there some year, to alleviate my curiosity.”
“Over my dead body.”
He will sooner level the birchin with the ground. All the birchins in the Night Court in fact.
“What exactly do you think will happen when your brothers see my naked body? They are both mated. To females.”
“Yeah and I don't recall them showing their naked partners all around just because they are already mated.”
“Are you sure? Because I remember Feyre being practically naked the last time you officially visited the Court of Nightmares.”
The idea of Eris ogling Feyre's almost bared body is raising all his hackles all at once. It’s almost as bad as the cursed topic of his naked brothers.
“What are you trying to achieve with this discussion?” Azriel asks darkly.
Eris raises his proud chin with studied nonchalance and smiles serenely.
“I’m trying to get you mad with jealousy so you will fuck me in this bathtub.”
Azriel doesn't have to be told twice.
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I feel the same as you when you say right now we can’t be sure if they are together or not. And if they are happy and not together anymore, than that’s ok, I really just want them to be happy (although I always end up thinking they are still together because they do something that reminds me of their relationship - like Louis singing 7 on his last show - but maybe he was just playing along with his crowd because he knows so many of us are larries but I also think they wouldn’t mess with this part of their lives because in spite of everything you can’t deny they were together at some point and that they were very protective of their relationship). But do you ever feel bad for feeling like this? Doubting if they are or aren’t together? It may be dumb but I like to believe they are going to be happily every after and that they made it against all odds. So I do feel sad when I think about the possibility of them not being an item anymore (again I don’t doubt they were together for years I just find myself questioning their status now)
It's very sad to think that such a beautiful fairy tale love could have simply ended, could have ended up being just as fragile and flawed as our own, so often disappointing, relationships. But even if it didn't end- the fantasy romance we made up from the public face of their relationship was never quite the real story and I think we all know that. Even the public documentation of it all includes plenty of evidence of fighting and hurting each other and both of them revealing ways in which they can be difficult to deal with it and all of the usual things that are part of any real relationship. So if they are still (or again) together, if they might have managed to find a way to love each other and stay together and commit for the long term DESPITE all of that, for me that inspiration that there are people willing to put in the hard work, who understand that staying together is worth TRYING really hard and struggling to be open and present for one another, is more beautiful than any hallmark movie ao3 fic fantasy love story version! And I think there is a lot to suggest that might be the case. But if not. Yeah. It's sad. Sometimes the world is just... sad and shitty and it's not what we look for when we turn to fandom and celebs and all of that, we want an escape from exactly that and so it feels especially bad to think that about them like you weren't supposed to be just like us- you were supposed to be better, to offer a vision of something different, to get the perfect happy ending! But they are both such smart, emotionally capable people- if it ended, maybe it was because that was the right thing to do for both of them, and more to the point, they are both so very happy seeming right now that if that's where they are post breakup, well. That's got to be worth something right? Is that not a happy ending? It's not an ending at all either way obviously, they're very young, but if they're happy isn't that the point? So you asked if I feel sad about it, if I look at old gifs and think about it yes I guess I do- but most of the time all I see is their happy beaming on top of the world faces on my dash living their best lives and I don't have time to feel sad! My heart is just so filled with pride and gladness for them! I will say also that like- we don't know if they're together, we can't know and we aren't likely to anytime soon so like... go ahead and choose to believe they are together. Without evidence either way you've got to pick one, why choose sadness?
anyway I almost didn't answer this because I couldn't do it without getting derailed (and being a wet blanket unnecessarily) about Louis playing 7 just now but I did want to answer the other part so I put that under the cut lol
Not that it really matters, we all have our own ideas of what means what, but for the record while I think Louis putting 7 on his set list in the first place was BONKERS and absolutely cannot be brushed off as coincidence or not being signaling, I don't actually think him playing it in NY just now says that much about anything to do with Harry or whatever. I mean I'm sure he enjoyed that it would also achieve that extra spike of freaking out from us, but like, I think the most relevant factor is that it's a song from LTWT that he could bring back that fits in with his current set in terms of SOUND (and being Cool) in a way that bringing back Defenseless or Only The Brave or whatever wouldn't have, they would have slowed down the tempo of the set (especially placed at the end there); he already had all the Walls songs that fit in with his current sound on the set list. I mean IDK but I personally suspect the messaging of it wasn't the primary reason for that choice
#blah blah blah#I guess I would feel sad more often if I followed more accounts posting a lot of old stuff I don't much#hm
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