#maybe I should make those posts with the fics even though they don't get much track | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

callalillywrites · 2 months ago

Text

Shooting His Shot Part 1

The original version of this story is something I've been wanting to expand for a while now. I finally got my chance, and it's become one of my most indulgent stories yet (I think). What was 1200 words is now over 8000 and split into two parts. Part 2 will be available in a few hours.

I had so much fun with this AU that I could easily persuaded to expand the universe a bit more. Ideas are already forming for a few of the other characters, but I'll hold off until I know others want to see them as well. It's not like I don't have plenty of other stories to work on anyway. 😊

The gif below is somewhat the look I was going for with Steve in this fic though he's given a suit jacket to wear. But yeah, this is it. One of my favorite looks of his btw.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Other notable characters: Bucky Barnes, Jake Jensen, Sam Wilson, Ari Levinson, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, and honorably mentioned Curtis Everett

Word Count: 4350

Summary: Steve owns a steakhouse that you used to frequent before your ex came into the picture. Now, your ex is gone, and you're ready to head back to the one place you've always felt welcome and wanted. What neither you nor Steve count on is his staff, led by Bucky, launching a full-one assault effort to get you two together. It's time the two of you realize your feelings for one another.

Warnings: abusive ex (Reader's), pining, so much pining, fluff, two ridiculous idiots in love, a whole bunch of matchmakers

A/N: This is a completely self-indulgent story made like one of those cheesy rom-com which is my bread and butter at this point. It's proofread, but any mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

PART 2

*****

A few hours before dinnertime rush begins…

It might be his day off, but Steve’s made it such a habit that he can’t stop himself. After all, he keeps hoping that you’ll walk back in the door of his steakhouse one day. Even if it’s been six months since he’s last seen your smiling and pretty face.

To help the hours pass, Steve turns to their books and reviews them. He might as well work on payroll for the week and get the checks ready for the following week. While he’s at it, he might look at their orders and see how they’re sitting as well. Maybe he should venture into the kitchen soon and speak with Bucky about their upcoming inspection. Not that they weren’t ready, but one can never be caught unawares. Besides that, they pride themselves on having one of the cleanest kitchens in the county.

As if conjuring up his best friend, Bucky stands in the doorway with one of their famous lunch specials.

“You’ve been at it long enough, punk. Take a break and eat something.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bucky steps into the room and sets the plate down on Steve’s desk, careless of the few neat piles Steve’s created that morning.

Steve stares at the plate for a few seconds before his stomach makes it known how empty it is. He probably shouldn’t have skipped breakfast after the workout he pushed himself through that morning.

While Steve takes a bite of food, Bucky sinks into one of the other chairs and sprawls himself out. He pulls out his phone and grins at whatever he finds waiting on his screen.

“What’s so funny, jerk?”

Bucky shakes his head, content to sit there and wait for Steve to finish the plate.

Knowing he won’t leave without Steve eating everything, Steve takes another bite. Each new fork or spoonful, he shoots Bucky a look, only getting a smug smirk in return. When Steve finally finishes the plate, he sets it aside and goes back to his computer screen. He’s almost certain Bucky won’t be sticking around too long, having enjoyed the small break he’d gotten in feeding Steve.

When one of their cooks happens to walk by, Bucky notices, too, and shouts out, “Hey, we get that order from the bakery down the street yet? I wanna make sure they sent along some of their best treats.”

Steve’s attention returns to Bucky.

Before he knows it, Bucky smacks his knees and pushes to his feet. With an efficient movement born of years in the kitchen, he grabs up Steve’s empty plate and turns toward the door.

“Hey, punk, you might wanna freshen up. We’re getting a special guest tonight. Maybe this time, you’ll man up and shoot your shot.”

Steve’s brows furrow at Bucky’s words.

At least they do until Jensen walks by with an excitement Steve hasn’t seen in a few months.

“Did you hear, Boss Man?” Jensen asks as he tells Steve about the reservation that’s just come in.

A reservation for one in your name.

*****

You check your new outfit a final time in the mirror, satisfied with your efforts. The makeup you’ve chosen for the evening is minimal since you’re only interested in pleasing yourself.

Almost a year wasted with a man who never appreciated you. A man who wanted to shape and mold you into some ideal that you could never be, never wanted to be.

Six months without visiting one of your favorite places in the entire world. All because that same man had been so jealous of the attention you got from everyone there but especially from one Steve Rogers.

Oh, you can only hope that you might see Steve again that evening, having missed his sweet smile most of all these last several months. He’d been one of the first there to make you feel welcome. One by one, so did the others, but you always came back because of Steve.

Part of you wishes still that he would’ve made a move on you during one of your many visits to the steakhouse over the past few years. Maybe then he would’ve saved you all those months with someone less deserving of you and what you had to offer.

He never did though.

So, you accepted the two of you would just be friendly toward one another, just like you were with all the others there.

You can live with that.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself as you grab up your jacket and purse.

A final glance in the mirror to ensure your outfit is still perfect for the night you have planned. It’s during this time that your phone pings with the arrival of your Uber.

The ride to the steakhouse takes you through the familiar streets you’ve missed. It amazes you how much they have stayed the same though there are some changes that surprise you. Your favorite used bookshop’s doors have shuttered, but the café you used to visit almost every morning still thrived. A couple of new tiny shops have opened while others remain with a couple that have closed. The eclectic collection of shops was what drew you to this area in the first place when you’d been looking at universities.

Anger fills you for a moment at how manipulative your ex had been with your routine and your life. How could you let him work you like he did? How could he take the very things that made you happiest because he couldn’t handle his own feelings of jealousy and inadequacy?

So many of the hours you used to spend on these few streets, window shopping and getting to know the owners of the shops. They’d been lost to you when you let your ex into your life. Friends lost because of him. You could only wonder what they’ve been up to these past months while you’ve slowly descended into a level of hellish isolation you never wished to be in again.

As the steakhouse appeared in front of you, you perk up. Your hands automatically fidget as they run over your outfit to ensure the few wrinkles from sitting in your Uber didn’t remain when you step out in a few minutes.

A part of you hopes that Steve and all the others haven’t forgotten you.

Yet, why would they remember you?

Friendly or not, you’re still just a customer to them. A good tipper, sure, and always courteous to every employee from the bussers to the owners. You’ve never had a reason to complain about the food or the service from them, and you always tried to make sure they had no reason to complain about you.

Over the years, you’ve even gotten to know a bit about each of them. Jake’s inability to flirt despite giving him lessons whenever he served you. Nat’s intense loyalty to those she works with and her regulars, including you. Sam’s sweet but serious nature. Bucky’s strive for perfection with each dish that leaves the kitchen. Ari’s innate ability to know just what drink you need the moment you step inside (always a mocktail for you). Peter’s awkward friendliness that’s just downright infectious.

Then, there’s Steve.

Oh, you’ve learned a lot about him over the last couple of years.

He’s never been one to back down from the rowdier customers, standing firmly on the side of his staff. It’s something you’ve seen firsthand a time or two, and you’re always impressed with the way he manages to keep his anger in check. At least, inside the restaurant. You’re not unaware of the bloody knuckles he’s come back in with after escorting these obnoxious customers from his place. No doubt they deserved it, but you did worry about the consequences for him and the possibility of pressed charges.

Steve’s also been the first to lend a helping hand to those less fortunate in the neighborhood. If it’s not a free meal to help refill their empty stomachs, it’s offering them small tasks for which he handsomely pays them, even those that take less than ten minutes. He always makes sure they get enough to help through the day or even a few days. You’ve seen the kindness that comes from him and his staff, and it’s one of the many reasons your crush on him hasn’t dwindled over the years. No, it’s blossomed in ways you kinda wished it wouldn’t. There’s little hope of him ever seeing you as anything more than a valuable customer.

You’re brought out of your reverie when your Uber driver clears their throat.

Embarrassed, you quickly apologize and wrap up your business with them, stepping from the car and waving them off.

The large wooden doors leading into the steakhouse speak of an understated elegance and welcome that calls out to you. Beckons you to enter the establishment and know you’re among friends, among family.

It’s a feeling you’ve missed greatly these last several months.

Taking a breath, you pull one of the doors and step into the small entryway. The glazed inner doors don’t hide the rich interior within though they do lend some privacy to those already inside. The place is packed as usual with some guests standing or sitting on either side of the entryway, waiting for their tables.

You smile as you catch sight of a familiar face standing next to an unfamiliar one at the host stand.

Without hesitation, you open the glazed door while your smile widens into a full grin. “Well, well, well, aren’t you looking spiffier than ever, Sam?”

Sam’s head shoots up and his smile matches your own. He steps around the stand and closes the distance between the two of you. A low whistle comes out as he moves his finger in a circular motion, getting you to give him a small spin. Another whistle escapes him.

“You are a sight for sore eyes. It hasn’t been the same since we last saw you here.”

The soft reprimand isn’t missed, but you don’t hesitate when he embraces you, his forgiveness as quickly given. In your ear, he adds softly, “He hasn’t been the same.”

Your brows furrow at this new piece of information.

Yet, you’re not given a chance to think on his words before Sam’s sweeping you away from the foyer and deeper into the steakhouse.

“Come, your table isn’t ready just yet, but I know some other people who want to see your lovely face again.”

Within a few more steps, he’s pulling out a barstool at the full bar off to the side of the steakhouse. Another friendly face turns to greet you with a big grin on his fully bearded, handsome face.

“Ari,” you say with another genuine smile for the man behind the bar.

Sweeping his longer than before locks from his face, Ari flashes you a grin of his own. “Gorgeous, long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

“Doing much better since I dropped the one-eighty anchor weighing me down.”

Ari’s grin grows. “Good riddance. For your good fortune, I have just the thing for you. One of my newest concoctions that I think you’ll enjoy. On me.”

“Oh, no, I can’t let you do that.”

You’re not allowed to go any further as Ari’s large hand settles over yours. His gaze softens into one of sheer fondness and full sincerity. “Yeah, you can. We’ve all missed you. It hasn’t been the same since you stopped coming in.”

“I’m just a customer,” you say, not fully understanding.

Ari shakes his head. A sympathetic smile takes over his original welcoming grin. “You’ve really no idea what you’ve been to all of us, have you?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, setting about mixing various ingredients in the special station he created some time ago. You lose track of all that he’s mixing and matching until he finally pours the concoction in a glass and tops it with a tiny umbrella in your favorite color.

The explosion of flavors that come has you wiggling a happy little dance on the stool. While you can’t help thinking the mix shouldn’t work, it does in ways that are pleasant and hits you with a burst of such happiness. It’s such that you can’t help taking another long sip.

“Oh, you’re a true genius, Ari.” Your words are punctuated with a sip. “Mm, I love it. I’ll have to make this a standing order every time I come in from now on.”

Beaming, Ari taps the bar. “I’m holding you to that, gorgeous.”

Another customer ends up taking Ari away, but it’s just as well. You’re more than content to continue sipping your new favorite mocktail, one of many Ari’s presented to you. The man’s a notorious flirt, watching him rake in several tips over the next few minutes, but he’s also a connoisseur when it comes to alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

He comes back at the same time Sam reappears.

“Your table is ready, pretty lady.”

Saying a quick farewell to Ari, you take Sam’s offered elbow and allow him to lead you to what you believe is your usual table.

It’s more than a little surprising when he sweeps past the main dining area and through a hallway towards what you assume are the back offices and other personnel only rooms. He doesn’t stop until he pushes open a door and reveals a table set for two in a private room.

“What’s all this? Sam, what’s going on?”

Sam merely grins as he leads you to the table and holds out your chair for you. It’s only after he’s given you a menu you don’t need that he says, “I’m trying to make sure Bucky wins the bet this time.”

“Bet? What bet? You have a bet that concerns me?”

Rather than answer, Sam shoots you a wink and disappears through the door, closing it softly behind him.

A moment later, soft music drifts through hidden speakers. The melody is low but romantic though that does little to answer any of the questions this evening’s brought so far.

*****

Steve’s just finishing up the last of the paperwork when Bucky barrels into his office.

“She’s here, punk.” Bucky slams his door shut and gives Steve a thorough though quick once-over. “Is that what you call freshening up? I’m never going to win my money back from Sam if you keep this up.”

“Aren’t you slammed right now? What are you doing here?”

Bucky waves his hand in dismissal. “Everett’s got it for the next few minutes. I’m here to make sure you don’t mess this up a second time.”

Steve’s trying to follow his best friend. Really, he is.

Bucky just isn’t making much sense at this point.

“Mess what up? Buck—”

Another wave of Bucky’s hand has Steve going silent. Strong hands move his chair out of the way before he’s being tossed a garment bag.

“I had Nat pick this up before she clocked in. It should still fit, so hurry up and put it on. You can’t keep a beautiful woman waiting too long.”

Still not following but at least complying for the moment, Steve unzips the bag and finds a nice button-down shirt with what appear to be new pants. A suit jacket completes the look though he’s unsure why he needs such clothing.

“Nat’s got a good eye,” Bucky muses aloud as Steve pulls the ensemble from the bag. “That color will certainly impress her. Now, come on. We don’t have all night here.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve hurries to change his clothes.

If Bucky’s going to be like this, it’s easier to just go along and figure it out along the way. At least that’s been Steve’s experience every time Bucky’s been excited about something. It goes for everything from the latest technology to the ladies, and it’s been like this since the two became friends so many years ago.

The only time it really changed was the six months or so after they both discharged from the army. While they’d both seen combat, something happened to Bucky that he still refuses to discuss most days. Those were the hardest months of their friendship, but Steve refused to walk away, even when Bucky practically shoved him out the door a few times over.

Their eventual takeover of Bucky’s grandparents’ restaurant helped give them both a new direction and strengthened their friendship into something stronger than before they’d enlisted together.

His thoughts clear as he finishes putting on the shoes Bucky hands him, also in Steve’s size.

“Better?” Steve arches a brow at Bucky in question.

Another thorough once-over has Bucky reaching out and unbuttoning the top button of Steve’s shirt. A quick tug of the collar soon brings a grin to Bucky’s satisfied features. With a nod, he says, “Better. Let’s go win your girl, punk.”

*****

You aren’t left alone for long as Jake and Peter come into the room. While Jake’s carrying several items rather precariously, Peter follows him with flatware in their signature napkin wraps.

The fancy cloth’s colors have changed, you note, from a deep blue to a burgundy red. It’s a sign the steakhouse is gearing up for their fall season. Each season has its specific color as you learned from Nat some time ago. Something started by Bucky’s mom back when she and Bucky’s dad ran the restaurant.

“Hey, Pete, how’s school going?” you ask as the younger man moves out of Jake’s way.

Your gaze briefly leaves Peter’s face to take in the small crystal vase with a mini bouquet of seasonal flowers. Their signature glasses follow it on the table as well as everything else one might need at a steakhouse. The table soon overflows with all the items those in the main dining room have though the table itself is a bit too small to accommodate so much.

Peter pulls your attention back to him, saying, “I graduated a couple months ago. Classes at university aren’t bad though they’re not leaving me as much time to work as I’d like. Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers promoted me to server as my graduation gift. They say I earned it.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you did.” You grin at him, quite proud of him. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“It’s okay.” Something in Peter’s voice tells you it’s not really, but he’s also not going to hold it against you.

Hoping to make amends for your absence in some way, you turn to Jake. “Well, maybe I can make it up to you if Jake here doesn’t mind sharing me with you tonight. I’d love to do something for such a momentous occasion, Peter. I know how hard you’ve worked through school and in school.”

Jake nods quite enthusiastically. “Not a problem with me. Nat might complain though.”

“No complaints from me,” Nat calls from the doorway, walking past with some plates from the kitchen. “He should be joining soon. Jensen. Parker, make sure he doesn’t screw this up again.”

“We’re not miracle workers,” Jake quips.

With that, Nat’s gone though you can make out her laughter down the hall.

Turning back to Jake and Peter, you ask, “Who is he? What is he not supposed to screw up?”

The two exchange a glance before Jake clears his throat and mumbles, “Boss Man.”

It might’ve been some time since you’d been at the restaurant, but you know Jake only calls one man that name in this place.

Steve.

You’re not sure what Steve has to do with you or why he’d be joining you. After all, you only made a reservation for yourself. The thought of someone else joining you hadn’t entered your mind.

Yet, you can’t say you don’t like the idea. You, in fact, really like it. It’s been something you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember and every time you’ve come here single. If only he had made a move, then maybe you might believe that he’s interested in you now. Nothing in the few years you’ve known him has hinted that he likes or liked you the way you like him.

Before you can get too far down that rabbit hole, another voice breaks the quiet of the room.

“There’s the most beautiful doll in the world.”

You smile as Bucky enters and pulls you from your seat for a hug.

“We’ve missed you around here. My kitchen staff has suffered dearly with your absence. Lost all their inspiration without your unique combinations.”

Shaking your head, you accept his kiss on your cheek and give him one in return.

“I’m sure you keep them on their toes plenty. It is nice to be back though. I’ve missed you all, too.”

Before he lets you go, he whispers, “If the punk is too dumb to shoot his shot, I just might if it means keeping you around. You light up this place in ways it hasn’t since my ma retired.”

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them back.

Leave it to Bucky and the others to make you feel so special even after such a long time being gone. It’s your sincerest hope to never stop coming here, not letting anyone keep you away from somewhere you’ve always felt welcome and wanted.

“You’re very cute,” you whisper back, “but you’re not really my type.”

He chuckles, not offended in the least. It’s not the first time you two have had this conversation. It probably won’t be the last, either, which suits you just fine.

At last, he releases you from his loose hold.

“I should get back to the kitchen. Don’t need Everett or the others to burn it down.”

You shake your head fondly. “Give Curtis more credit than that. He’s a wonderful sous chef, and you’re lucky to have him. I’m glad you took my thoughts to heart where he’s concerned.”

“How could I not? You’ve never led us astray before,” Bucky says, shooting you a wink and a farewell nod. His heavy footsteps can be heard on their way back to the kitchen where he’s always felt his most calm.

When your gaze follows Bucky’s path, it soon collides with the one person you’ve been hoping to see all day.

Your smile grows once more. It’s almost certain your cheeks will be sore in the morning from all the smiling you’ve done this evening. In a breath, you say his name.

“Hey, bijou,” he says, his voice low but warm.

You do your best not to fidget, to seek out any invisible wrinkles in your outfit.

It’s taking everything in you to keep your gaze locked with his even as you take in the navy-blue suit he’s wearing. No tie and the top button unbuttoned does something for him in ways you’re wholly unprepared for. This man is too handsome by half, and he doesn’t even know it. How fair is that to any poor woman who happens upon him?

At last, you find your voice. “You look handsome. Big date?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer as Nat walks by again. She’s wearing a big smirk when she says, “If he’s not a complete idiot, it is.”

Your confusion isn’t lessening while Steve sends a look at Nat though he relaxes a bit, his voice almost amused. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Not only are my tables handled, boss, but I have time to make sure you win your lady.”

You don’t miss the way Nat’s gaze trails to you, her smirk intact, before she returns her attention to Steve.

“Don’t mess it up,” she says, moving away, “boss.”

The offended incredulity on Steve’s face has you fighting laughter. You’ve never seen him quite so put upon and by his staff, no less. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t tease him from time to time as you’ve witnessed. This is the first time though that the rest of the staff has joined in. You honestly can’t help wanting to laugh at the spectacle, even if you don’t quite get what they’re trying to do and what it has to do with you.

Steve seems to shake himself when his gaze finds yours. His throat clears before he finally says, “You are stunning, bijou. Special occasion?”

“Yeah. Celebrating me.” You can’t help the heat that rushes into your cheeks as you say the words. They’re so much easier to consider when you think them, but saying them aloud is something else entirely. You quickly add, “I also really missed this place.”

I missed you.

You manage to keep that thought from spilling out, leaving you open for rejection.

Eager to keep that thought from coming out, you glance around the sparsely decorated room. It’s clear this wasn’t a private dining area before, but no clue exists on what it was before the others must’ve hastily redecorated this space. For what purpose, you can’t say with any certainty.

Yet, there is a hope.

The room might not have much, but it does have enough to appear something cozy, something charming. Maybe a bit more mood lighting, then the others would succeed in whatever they were creating.

When your gaze finally returns to Steve, you swallow.

He remains in the doorway, but the look he has while watching you is something you’re not wholly prepared for. One corner of his mouth is curled upwards while his eyes are soft but focused solely on you. It’s almost like he hasn’t stopped looking at you as you take in the room. That’s a heady sensation indeed for you as you haven’t experienced that ever.

Not any of your exes. Especially not Brock. Not in the way Steve’s doing anyway.

There’s wonder and perhaps longing staring back at you.

It’s that look that compels you to ask, “Would like to join me? I mean, if you don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“I’d really like that if you’re sure you don’t mind,” he says, pushing off the doorway.

You shake your head. “I don’t mind.”

*****

Main Masterlist

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #x female reader #steve rogers fanfiction #shooting his shot #restaurant au #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #jake jensen #peter parker #sam wilson #ari levinson #fluff #matchmaking

117 notes · View notes

erinwantstowrite · 4 months ago

Note

Hi!!!! I Love love love your fic, and I have a question! An inquiry if you must lol. I was reading the tags again, and I noticed the skip Westcott tag. Are you going to approach the topic? Like, other than Peter suffering that trauma, when he eventually opens up to the bat family, will he talk about it?? Will dick talk about his own experience with Tarantula? I'm so excited to see your take since you put some hints that skip was maybe his caretaker at some point? Like foster dad or maybe I'm genuinely just tripping and mixing with other fics.

ALSO incredibly excited to see what happened to him with the experiments!!! It's extremely vague but im so needing that angst!!!! I really want to see more of Peter's life before coming to Gotham, before even meeting Tony!

hiii!! ty for the love!! :)

i spent ages looking for an ask i got a while ago about this topic but i can't find it for some reason? so if anyone is able to find it for me, i'd like to link it to this post and i'd appreciate the help!!

EDIT: perpetuallypanicky found the post!

(warning for under the tag: talking about Skip Westcott and Tarantula, which covers the topic of SA. please take care of yourself)

Peter will eventually talk about Skip Westcott. I can't say how much he says because I haven't actually written the conversation yet, but at the moment, it's more alluded to that it is talked about. It's a conversation for way later in another part of the series I have planned for LoF, which actually has an entire plotline about Peter's past and how it connects to his future. But he will open up and talk about it at some point. I think in the road trip arc (chapter 15 I think?) I have it planned for Peter to talk about Skip in some context with Dick (mainly, he tells Dick the most he's ever told anyone about the day he was bit by the spider), but not fully.

(And if that changes, it will 100% be warned in the beginning with the other trigger warnings I put in beginning chapter notes.)

That's mostly because Peter still hasn't processed that yet. He hasn't even told his therapist (I briefly mentioned a few times in Peter's POV's that he has gone to therapy, but I should probably make sure it's known that he doesn't go so often that he's gotten through the biggest parts of his past).

As for Tarantula... I talked about this in the Lost Post (this thing disappeared???) so I should probably mention it again. But Tarantula did NOT happen in this au.

There's a huge reason for it, and that's because I hate Devin Grayson, the writer who put that shit in there. I don't want her attached to LoF in any form, even if I'm writing to bash it.

That's not saying that Dick isn't still a survivor of SA. He's still going to have that be a part of his past as well, with some of the other instances. (There's another instance with Catwoman that's just... no.) So I'm not erasing that part of his history. I just hate Devin Grayson.

Which means that when Dick does find out (and he will), there's gonna be a big reaction. For the most part, when it comes to What Happened, I won't be going into details, nor flashbacks, stuff like that. It'll be about the impact of those times, and how Peter and Dick are recovering, though they do talk about it.

Also, Skip was Peter's last foster parent before Tony, you're right. He's probably just a little older than Dick, I'd say, around mid thirties? He was responsible for Peter for a little while but Peter ended up running away that day he got bit, and Skip hasn't fostered since.

And as for the experiments: I'm excited to write about it more. Peter and Dick also talk about this, and in some more detail than the Westcott talk. It's about time that Dick learned how Tony got Peter's complete trust,,,, a little sneak peak into that,,,, :)

There's actually so much about Peter's backstory that I sometimes wonder if there's things that I wouldn't be able to get to in LoF... It just means that I've been considering writing a prequel one day

#erinwantstowrite #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #leap of faith ao3 #leap of faith catch me if you can #leap of faith #peter parker #thank you for the ask!#tarantula DC #devin grayson i hate you so much #dick grayson #my love dick grayson #:((#nightwing

97 notes · View notes

ikigaisvt · 11 months ago

Text

sleepy

in which your boyfriend comforts you after a restless night.

pairing: joshua x gn!reader words count: 1.6k content: comfort, fluff warnings: talk of insomnia, eating, talk of drinking, petnames (for reader: babe, baby, sweeheart / for joshua: josh, love), skinship (cuddles, kisses) note: hi!! the joshua brainrot has been hitting hard lately; im kinda in love,, thank you so much @goblinvern for proof reading this for me 🫶 you're the absolute best! minors are allowed to interact with this post but please don't follow or i'll hard block you. enjoy and don't forget to leave a like/comment/reblog! note 2.0: i wasn't planning on posting this fic before the new year, but since i had it sitting in the drafts and it's joshua's day, i thought it'd be a good timing to post it now~ i hope everyone will have a good 2024 and happy birthday to shua!! 🫶

You were pretty sure if people would have to describe you, they’d use that word: admirative. You were one to always be left in awe at people’s talents, whether it be singing, drawing, dancing or truly anything else. Even though you were creative yourself, you’d always be admirative of what people could create out of their minds only. But if you had to say the one skill that would leave you speechless, as it is not one you possess, it’s being able to function with little to no sleep.

Okay, let’s redo this. If you’re being truthful, people would more likely describe you as sleepy. You were someone who always loved sleeping; however, sleep did not like you. You were never like one of those people who could sleep anywhere and through anything, you were rather on the more sensitive side when it came to sleeping. Over the years, you had put together a very strict routine you had to follow every night to ensure a restful sleep. But oh, if you had the bad idea or the bad luck to skip or miss a step? You’d end up falling asleep at 1 am and waking up at 5 am. And that’s exactly what happened yesterday night. Now, you’re used to this so surely you would know how to handle your own state and have the most productive day despite your tiredness. However, because the world never gives enough hardships to one, you were sometimes faced with a special kind of tiredness. A tiredness that would make you stick to anyone’s side. A tiredness that would make you hug a person and never let go. And when that happened, well, no amount of self-knowledge could make you change for the day. But maybe you have something to thank the world for: it gave the loveliest and gentlest boyfriend ever. And he loves cuddles.

10 am – 5 hours since I’ve been awake. He should be awake pretty soon; you think to yourself. Here you were, perched on the kitchen stool, an empty bowl of cereal in front of you, waiting for your boyfriend to wake up so you could cuddle. When you first woke up, you had hoped you would fall back asleep immediately, even though that rarely happened for you, so you didn’t even think of cuddling. But when you realized you would not fall asleep, you decide to get up and go about your day, already looking forward to your afternoon’s nap. All you did was settle down on your couch and put on your favorite show – The Vampire Diaries and around 9am, when hungriness settled down in the pit of your stomach, you got up and made yourself a bowl of cereal. You don’t know what triggered your need to hug your boyfriend – maybe the chill air that settled in your apartment as winter is coming closer or maybe the fact that you haven’t seen him a lot lately, but all you have been thinking about since then was him. Him and his arms enveloping you. Him and his scent making your head spin. Him and his fingers playing with your hair. Him, him, him. Now, you could have woken him up but knowing he came back home around 2 am – as he was out drinking with Jeonghan – you didn’t find it in you to ruin his sleep.

“10:30 am – he really should be awake by now,” you say out loud before you hear the water running in your bathroom. You slowly lean and peek at your hallway only to see Joshua walk down towards you – more like, towards the kitchen, his hair sticking out in weird angles while he rubs the sleep away from his eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he calls out to you once he gets closer, “Since when have you been awake?” he asks, worries written all over his face. He knows how much you struggle with sleeping.

“I woke up around 5,” you mumble as he starts making himself a cup of coffee. At your words he turns around to look at you, gives up on his coffee and comes around the kitchen bar.

“Oh babe,” he says, his hands reaching for your face, cupping your cheeks gently, “Is it because of me? Did I wake you up?” he questions, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

“No, you’re fine. You know how it gets for me sometimes,” you reassure him, your hands holding on his wrists.

“Okay, okay,” he says, “What can I do? Do you want to stay in bed while I clean around? Today is cleaning day, right?” he asks, trying to come up with a way to make today easier for you.

“Well, cleaning day is reported to tomorrow,” you chuckle, lighting up the situation, “but there’s something I’d really like,” you mumble, trying to work up the courage to ask him for cuddles.

“Yes, tell me. Anything for you,” he nods, his hands now resting on your neck, his fingers playing with the little hair at the back of your head.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me?” you ask him, holding out your hand in a pinky promise.

“Of course. I promise I won’t make fun of you,” he states, as he meets your hand in the same promise, a glint of mischievousness appearing in his eyes, “You want cuddles, don’t you?” he asks in a smile.

“How did you know?” you gasp, not knowing what could have given you up. But truly, Joshua knew as soon as he looked at you. He couldn’t pin point what gave you away either but he’s sure it’s there somewhere, in your shiny eyes, in your slight pout or maybe it’s the way your body is leaning into his, faster, closer, than usual.

“You always ask me to not make fun of you before asking for cuddles,” he chuckles, trying to come up with an answer without giving away how much he loves you, “and I always tell you I will not. Never.” He says, planting a kiss on your forehead, “Especially not when you’re being so open with what you need. You know I’ll always try to provide whatever you need for you.” Okay, he thinks to himself, maybe I did give myself away with that one.

“Thank you, Josh,” you murmur, your hands finding his shirt, as you pull him towards you so he can stand between your legs, “Just like this. For a few seconds.” You tell him, your voice even quieter as you bury yourself in his chest. You feel his arms reach behind you, rubbing your head and your back in slow motion, bringing you the comfort you were wishing for. Your body slowly relaxes, your hands untighten against his shirt and your breath becomes slower, little sighs leaving you as you realize that this is feeling rested. This is what love feels like. This is what home feels like.

“Feels good?” he whispers, his hand now drawing circles on your back, your response coming in the form of a nod, “You want to move to the couch?” he asks as you mumble yes against his shirt, slowly leaving his embrace. You look up at him, your eyes meeting as he reaches for your face, slowly coming closer to your lips. Just as you close your eyes and your lips are about to meet, he whispers something about the couch and suddenly you’re hoisted up in the air, his arms around you.

“There we go, baby,” he says as he kisses your forehead, blush creeping on your cheeks at how much he’s covering you with love, “Hold on tight,” he whispers, your arms finding rest on his shoulders as he holds you closer to his chest.

He slowly makes his way to the couch, the slight movement of his steps almost lulling you to sleep, to that state you always struggle to find on your own. And yet with him, it’s so easy. So easy you find yourself sleepier than before, as Joshua sets you down on the couch, his arms open to allow you the rest you deeply deserve. Your cheek is pressed against his chest, his heart like a lullaby to you while he strokes your hair out of your face.

“You’re good now?” he whispers as he plants another kiss on your head.

“Hm, yeah. Thank you, love,” you whisper, already feeling sleepier than a few minutes ago as he strokes your back.

“Please, don’t thank me,” he starts, “always come find me when you can’t sleep, okay? Call me and I’ll come running. Tell me and I’ll drop everything. Wake me up whenever and I will give every ounce of sleep to you.” he says, your eyes looking up at him, “You need to promise me, okay?” he asks, his hand already out in a pinky promise.

“I swear,” you answer, your hand locking his into a promise. You take a hold of his hand quick enough, playing with his fingers before you start leaving kisses on his open palm, his knuckles, the tip of his fingers, “I love you.” you whisper as you let his hand down, your fingers still intertwined.

“I know,” he says quietly, his eyes filled with something you can’t describe. Perhaps it is love. “I love you too. So much.” He tells you, sealing his love with a kiss on your hand as your eyes feel heavier than before, sleep and warmth slowly invading your body.

It’s when you feel your body getting heavier, Joshua’s heart beats fading in the background as his hand never stop rubbing your back that you realize you should have added cuddles with Joshua as a crucial part of your night routine. No matter how many tips you will try to sleep better – earplugs, sleeping masks, white noise music, nothing will ever compare to Joshua and the comfort, rest and love he brings you. And maybe after a few years, you’ll be able to only have one step in your night routine.

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it 🫶

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #seventeen fluff #seventeen comfort #svt #joshua #joshua fluff #joshua x reader #joshua imagines #joshua scenarios #joshua comfort #joshua hong #sammy's works

337 notes · View notes

urinarythreatinfection · 3 months ago

Note

may i ask for headcanons for crocodile x child reader where crocodile's daughter joins the strawhats post alabasta?

and the next time they meet in impel down, well. that's not even his daughter anymore. that's his son now.

thank you very much for the open requests!

(from @77v77)

Bet. My first time writing a trans character so I hope it turned out okay. I'm still not used to headcanons so this honestly came out more as a fic, I'm really sorry about that. If you want a redo I don't mind, sorry. I got kinda carried away with a storyline and it turned out like this.

It's Good To See The New You

Crocodile x FTM!Child!Reader. 1562 words. Author isn't trans but trying their best. Feel free to correct if I messed up. (D/N) Is deadname.

This is how your life is, you’ve accepted it. You’re the daughter of someone powerful, strong, rich, you should be happy; but you aren’t. These dresses aren’t making you happy, the people fawning over you aren’t either, even the small amount of attention you get from your father doesn’t truly make you happy. It’s only when something happens, something that was supposed to be negative, that you get a glimpse of what can be your happiness. How could you let it pass you by at that point? Call yourself your father’s daughter, you don’t let opportunities like this just leave. Of course, maybe daughter isn’t something to describe you anymore.

“Take me with you.” Is what you say to Luffy when he’s leaving.

“Hm?” He looks at you, recognizing who you are, and scowls slightly.

“Take me with you, I want to go with you.” You repeat and it only confuses him more, Luffy doesn’t like being confused either.

He thinks you’re trying to pick a fight at first, but when he realizes you aren’t he calms down a bit.

“I just beat up your dad, why do you wanna come with me?” He asks you.

“Because I want to. So let me on.”

“Wha- Don’t give me orders!”

You two end up getting into a small argument, call it childish but you aren’t used to being argued with by anyone other than your father.

Of course, it ends up working out, Luffy lets you on.

Robin even uses you as an excuse to get on as well, your partner in crime.

Luffy’s a little upset he kind of didn’t get as much of a choice as he’d like, but he got over it once Robin worked her charms. (Using her hands to help them make stupid jokes)

As for you, it took a while for you to warm up to them even though you’re the one who got on.

Something just still didn’t feel right.

You felt better than before, of course, but not as good as you’d like.

It’s only when Nami helps you pick out clothes that you realize that you’ve never truly chosen what you’ve wanted.

You were given options of course, but those options were picked from what your father wanted.

When you were looking at dresses Nami noticed you looking unhappy.

“You don’t have to wear a dress if you don’t want to, you know. You can wear something else.” She says casually.

In her mind it was just a fashion tip from one woman to another, something simple.

But to you it was so much more.

From then on you took things into your own hands.

Not just bossy with the things you’re given, but exploring to find your own choices.

You started dressing differently, which might seem so little but it felt so much bigger to you.

Time passes and it was the best choice you’ve ever made, it helped you become your true self.

The crew was confused at first, Sanji was even devastated, but it passed.

Sometimes Sanji still laments, but it’s more just because he was happy to have another woman to fawn over.

He gets over it, you’re happier this way.

You even get the privilege of not having the privilege of Sanji’s over-the-top affection.

Everything is so much better, so much brighter that you almost forget what your life was like before you were truly yourself.

That’s until you meet your father again, a reminder of who you were.

You know it's not his fault, he never bossed you around or told you you couldn’t be your true self.

He just wanted you to be someone that he could have confidently as his child, someone unbreakable; and that's what you were.

An unbreakable broken person.

That’s how you could describe him too, in the state he’s in.

Chained up and defeated, it makes your heart ache.

Even if he wasn’t the best father he was still yours.

He almost doesn’t recognize you at first, glaring at you until it clicks who you are.

“...(D/N)?” He calls to you and you almost flinch from the sound.

It brings shivers up your spine, even if you know it was from ignorance.

You don’t want to respond, not wanting to acknowledge that previous you; but decide it’s time to face it.

Crocodile himself, your father, isn’t the enemy that kept you captive.

“..Father.” You say to him.

“(D/N) you, what are you-”

“That’s not my name” You interrupt him, and it makes him pause.

Not your name?

How isn’t it your name? He named you himself!

“What are you talking about? I figured you joined that Strawhat’s crew but you changed your name for it? Were you..” He trails off, feeling hurt.

Were you that unhappy with him?

Why else would you change your name if not to try and get rid of your past?

You must be ashamed of him, he sure is.

Got beaten by a brat and ended up in a prison getting mistreated by people he could kill in a heartbeat, if only he had the chance to.

“Father.” You catch his attention, snapping him out of the trance of negativity he put himself into.

“It’s not you, if that’s what you were worried about.” You reassure him, and he scoffs.

“If not me what else? You sure seem a hell of a lot brighter now that you’re not with me.” His heart aches.

Despite not wanting to admit it he did have a soft spot for you.

You were his daughter, the small light he had in the darkness, whether the choice to have you was his or not.

“..It’s (Y/N).” You say quietly and he perks up, looking at you closer.

You look different, more different than he realized at first.

“You’ve changed.”

“I know.” There’s a silence.

Crocodile isn’t one to pry, he didn’t pry even when you were his daughter.

“Are you happier?” He asks you, like a sentimental fool.

Your eyes go wide, but they calm as you smile.

“I am, I’m so much happier.”

“Good. Make sure you stay on the other side of these bars, too, (Y/N).” Your father says and your heart clenches.

You’re happy, but sad at the same time.

Here you are, your true self with friends that care about you, meeting your Father again.

This should be happy for you, there shouldn’t be anything bad about this.

Despite that, you feel like crying; and look down.

Because you’ve gained so much, but you’ve lost being your Father’s daughter.

He still cared for you, and you him.

He helped you with your hair, gave you the luxury he grained, treated you with the respect you deserved, he even changed your diapers sometimes when you were little.

Even though he didn’t need to.

Crocodile loved you as much as he could in and in the way he knew how.

So the thought that you’ve lost that love, it hurts.

You don’t want to go back to being his daughter, you don’t want to go back to being a daughter, but you don’t want to lose being his child.

“Hey, don’t give me that look.” You hear him say, and you look back up.

“I know you and how that face you make when you're about to cry. Even if you’re different know you’re still my..” He trails off and you hesitate.

“Son.” Your heart drops, fear overtaking you at the thought of him rejecting you.

“My son.” He says and your vision blurs.

“Jeez, you really don’t listen don’t you? That a Strawhat trait, or did you get it from me?” He says with a sigh as tears roll down your cheeks.

“C’mon, stand up straight. You’re my kid, act it.” Something he would always say to you when you felt insecure.

It never did much other than help you put your mask back on.

But now those words empower you.

More than when they were said by the savior of Alabasta, the fearsome Crocodile.

You nod and wipe your eyes, you can’t cry now.

“That’s right, one of us has to be free." He looks down at himself, weak from mistreatment and seastone.

"Maybe it’s better you than me.” His chains clink as he moves.

“I am free, I feel so free. All the time.” You say, laughing a bit.

It shocks Crocodile, he hasn’t heard you laugh like this in so long.

He'd thought you'd lost it from age, just as he did.

You haven't laughed this freely with him since he could hold you up with one hand.

The sound of his son sounds so much happier than his daughter.

He wishes he knew sooner, maybe he could’ve even given you different life skills.

Too late for that.

“Are you gonna stand here all day looking at your old man? I doubt you’ve come to free me.” You shake your head.

You don’t even have his key.

Your ears perk up at crashing noises, it’s time for you to go.

You look back at your father, eyes clear and bright.

“I’ll be going now, Dad.” You say with a smile and he bites the inside of his cheek to hold any emotion in.

“Go get em, son.” Crocodile says with a chuckle.

You go off and he sits in his cell.

He wonders if this is how you felt, trapped with him and in a body you didn’t feel was your own.

Maybe this is his retribution, his punishment for his wrongdoings.

If there’s a God out there.. he hopes that they keep that punishment to him.

It wouldn’t be fair to drag someone he just met into his problems.

You deserve your new life.

He’s just happy he was able to see a glimpse of it.

That was it. Hope that was good. I'm not trans but I just based it off of what i've seen and maybe how I would feel if I were trans. Hope that works. I don't know why you made yourself anonymous but put your @ but I'll assume maybe it was because you wanted me to tag you so here @77v77

#crocodile x reader #platonic x reader #one piece #crocodile #crocodile one piece #headcanons #anime only #child reader #Crocodile x child reader #ftm reader #trans reader

86 notes · View notes

enhafilthandfiction · 2 years ago

Note

i love ur fics so much 💗 can I request a fic were ur wearing a revealing outfit and he gets super turned on about and starts to take off ur clothes 🤧

In the Kitchen - Yang Jungwon

Hello Anons!! I decided to kinda add these three together because they would make a perfect fic omg 🤭 jealous, tipsy fwb Jungwon that gets jealous when other men look at your revealing outfit and makes out with you 😍 so I hope y'all don't mind :))

*Also, disclaimer* : Jungwon is now 20 in Korea, so he is an fully grown man adult. Please stop hating on me and my posts, all I'm doing is writing and fulfilling asks willingly. The 'block tumblr' feature exists and you can just block me or just stop babying Jungwon.

If your're not comfortable reading, don't press the 'keep reading" tab

Summary : Your tipsy fwb Jungwon gets jealous when you wear a revealing outfit and decides to teach you who you belong to.

Pairing : Fwb!Jungwon X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Mentions of parties and slight drinking, revealing outfit on reader, friends with benefits, Jungwon being slightly drunk and jealous which leads to him being slightly possessive (kinda), makeouts, grinding, marking, love bites, neck kissing, Jungwon touching reader (but no fingering mentioned).

Word Count : 1123 words

Masterlist

It was already Friday which meant that frat boy's party was today. You were invited of course, your friends dragging you along. You knew Jungwon, your fuck buddy, would be there and you weren't going to hold back tonight, putting on your most revealing outfit, just to tease him.

What you didn't expect though, guys swarming around you, grinding up against you and even groping you too. Their eyes wouldn't leave your barely covered body, a thin piece of clothing covering you up.

You didn't even see him until you went to the kitchen, partly to get away for those pervs and also to get yourself a drink. As you searched for something to drink, you didn't see him in the dim lights, eyeing your figure.

He was resting against one of the counters nonchalantly, waiting for you to notice him. Until you did. He was wearing a black button up shirt along with some dark pants to match. His hair was ruffled, his messy fringe falling over his pretty eyes like always. His eyes had some sort of glint in them. Perhaps they were a little more sharper than usual.

You snapped out of your thoughts when he spoke to you "You should've taken a picture, it would've lasted longer" he says in a tone filled with fake pity, pursing his lips in a thin line. It was his turn to eye you up and down now, having a lot to see since the cloth did nothing to cover you up.

"I like your outfit" he compliments with an annoyed tone "but I should be the only one seeing you in it" he leans closer to you, "isn't that right doll?" Whispering into your ear. You shudder at his sudden closeness, breathing out softly. "Jungwon, we just fuck around that's it" you tried to reply firmly, but your tone wasn't so sure either.

Ever since you and him became friends with benefits, you had placed rules, but the main one was to : never catch feelings for each other. You're just fuck buddies, you're only supposed to fuck around and that's it. "Don't ever think about dating" he had told you, but it was becoming impossible every time you met him, especially with the mixed signs he was sending you way.

He seemed protective of you in some way, like tonight. It's not the first time he had hated the way you flirted with other guys, but he haven't told you anything about it, just to be careful of guys you've just met. Even though what he meant was to not get involved with other guys.

He just wanted you for himself, which was very selfish of him, especially since he was the one to forbid dating at all costs. But today was different. You could see it by just looking into his eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol he had just drank? You didn't know, but he seemed way more confident than before;

His hands immediately found your waist, and as his lips met yours, there was no going back. He pushed you against the counter in a second, his body engulfing you, and his tongue prodding against your lips. You had already got used to this by now, his tongue always found a way to sneak into your mouth, desperately twirling his wet muscle with yours.

As his hands trailed higher to grope your breasts, his knee made it's way between your legs, bucking it up against your core, making you whine out his name. You desperately grinded against his knee, your clit itching for friction, as his hands played with your chest and his mouth massaged against yours.

He pulled his face away from yours and leant down, attaching his lips with your neck. "Jungwon, more" you breathed between kisses as his teeth nip your skin and his tongue runs over the love bite, almost like a sorry.

He sucks your neck until he's marked it, marking you as his. "You're mine Y/n, got it?" he states, his lips returning to your neck. His hands guide your hips harder on his knee, your arousal already wetting you panties.

"Jungwon, please, need more" you whine out of need, making him raise an eyebrow at you. "Such a needy girl, aren't you y/n-ssi?" He shames, twitching his knee for emphasis.

"Who do you belong to huh?" he asks you, stopping his movements and waiting for your answer. "Y-you Jungwon" you reply, wondering what's gotten into him. He did empty a few bottles of soju tonight but this is not the alcohol speaking.

The revealing outfit definitely worked something inside him, arousing him more than he would think. "How about we take this off, huh?" he smiles sweetly at you, showing you his bunny teeth.

"In some dude's kitchen?" You question unbelievably.

"It's fine baby, the door's closed, and besides, if someone walks in, its not like they haven't already seen enough with this little outfit doing little to cover you up" he explains, lingering his fingers on the thin fabric, waiting for your to allow give him the green light.

"Fine" As soon as the word leaves your lips, he's tugging down the clothing covering your lower body, leaving you in just your panties. You're still covered at the top, but that doesn't make you feel less naked.

His hands snake down to your crotch, his fingers rubbing you though the fabric. You moaned in relief when he added a little pressure to your clit, the fabric of your underwear adding to the friction.

His fingers move lower, feeling the wet spot seeping through you underwear. "Fuck, you're really wet for me" he breathes out, a smirk playing on his lips.

His warm hands sneak past the elastic band of your panties, that way he could rub your clit better. "How makes you this wet, huh?" He asks, rubbing quicker and harsher when you don't reply, making you whimper out.

"You! Jungwon, you!" you almost scream out, the pleasure being overwhelming. He smiles gladly and rubs your clit in tighter circles, bringing you to an orgasm in return.

"Ahh, Jungwon, c-cumming" you moan out, your hips twitching as you release around nothing. His finger proudly leave slide out of your underwear, his lips kissing your cheek as you calm down.

He leans down to grab your bottom half of the revealing outfit, dressing you back in it. "From now on, I'm the only one who can see you in slutty fits, yeah?" he confirms, connecting your lips in a chaste kiss.

Just as he's about to pull away, the door swings open, revealing your spent figure and his composed one. He looks at your flushed face "We were just getting out of here"

Hi thankyou for reading this post! I hope it didn't upset anyone and please keep in mind that Jungwon is now an adult. I have been receiving a lot of Jungwon requests lately, so more Jungwon fics on their way!

Thankyou for all the love and support y'all have been showing me, it is honestly over whelming and I appreciate it since it helps motivating me against haters and create new fics for y'all :))

If you enjoyed this post, you can help support my blog by tipping me here! Anything is highly appreciated!

1K notes · View notes

mydarlingclaudia · 1 month ago

Text

ENTER THE SURVIVAL HORROR…

OCTOBER FIC PLANS 𓉸

some fics I will be posting in October will contain dark content or will be dead dove (given I’ve never really written for either subject so this is new territory for me) but two of the fics I’m going to write are based on or inspired by horror movies and I’ll be writing both Chris and Leon!

also post dates and descriptions may change a tiny bit (though not likely!!) because I have actually only finished one of these fics, but if I do change anything I'll reblog this post!!

coming soon ⟢

taste no evil inspired by… THE VVITCH (10/30/24) -> Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

it's just you and your husband out in the woods. oh, and whatever is living among the trees. you think it's some beastly animal, Leon knows it's witches. but he can't tell you that, you'd freak out, insist on moving closer to town or even further away from where you already lived. Leon can keep you safe, he knows he can, why must you be so paranoid all the time? it doesn't help his case when your animals start being picked off and you start seeing things more clearly. it only ends badly for the both of you.

established relationship, tiny bit of fluff, gore, animal death, I make shit up about witches, cannibalism, major character death, au, fem!reader, re4r!Leon

how much blood would you shed to survive? based on… SAW (10/18/24) -> Chris Redfield x fem!reader

cheating doesn't make you a bad person, it's not like you were even married to the guy, Chris didn't even try to stop you from hitting on him, anyway. maybe getting romantically involved with your coworker wasn't the best decision you've made, but why should anyone else care? you don't let your relationship with him get in the way of your work, all you really do is help each other try to track down the murderer running through Raccoon City, how were you supposed to know said murderer would be your boss? and how were you supposed to know that you'd wake up in one of these traps one morning with Chris getting there surprisingly fast to help you escape?

established relationship, gore, mentions of infidelity, au, fem!reader, re5!Chris

she’s demonic and bloody, but she holds me tight inspired by… IN MY ROOM (10/10/24) -> Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

a college kid with a social life that's almost non-existent figures the dead girl that comes to his room every night is his girlfriend, some say that's a bad thing, he says it's everything he could wish for. who cares, anyway? it's not hurting anyone! well, not yet, at least. there's an endless list of things he'd do for you, you don't even have to ask. but why won't you come back after he takes care of a problem that would have torn you away from him? you love him, right?

not-really established relationship (idk how to explain it), a bit suggestive, Leon is kinda gross, necrophilia, gore, au, fem!reader, re2r!Leon

mouthful of love (10/2/24) -> Chris Redfield x fem!reader

mission gone wrong, the rest of your team had already been killed, so when you end up dying in that same mission it only makes things worse. but Chris can’t just leave you, right? no, that would be cruel, but he can’t really drag around a dead body with him either. who’s gonna know if he took a few bites out of you just to keep you with him? the place had already been crawling with monsters, it wouldn’t be a totally crazy thing to find on a corpse.

established relationship, major character death, gore, cannibalism, fem!reader, anywhere post re1 Chris

I will be using dark content and dead dove for tags so you’ll be able to filter out these fics. I don’t really expect anyone to give a shit about this but for those of you who do wanna read these thank you and happy halloween <3 I might also be posting extras if I find the time and feel like it, those are also probably going to be more cutesy fall fics sooooo

#claudia’s halloween bash ♡#leon kennedy x reader #chris redfield x reader #dead dove #dark content #resident evil x reader

59 notes · View notes

byslantedlight · 6 months ago

Text

Hello OFMD Tumblr thingie, and all the amazing people who are out there, and especially the ones who've been making all the posts that have made me so happy over the last few months. 💖💖💖 First and most importantly, thank you, thank you, thank you, to anyone who sees this!

This is my first post to Tumblr (probably pretty obvious from my huge lack of Tumblr sophistication! And the length of this post...) If you don't count reblogging things that I wanted to be able to find again. I've braved up to comment thank you to people a couple of times, but that's been it so far. I must admit it all looks a bit scary from this side of the glass, even though I can also see how friendly people mostly are.

But OFMD fandom is big! And you've been here a long time! I loved Series 1 when I watched it, and knew I wanted to watch out for Series 2, but it wasn't until I re-watched it when the Series 2 trailer came out on BBC iPlayer that I fell veeeery in love with it! And by then you were already here, and there was a language and debates about things I'd barely even noticed, and it's mostly me staring with big eyes thinking wow, and sometimes huh? and... well, you know. Plus there's trying to work out Tumblr, which I definitely haven't actually managed to do yet, and possibly never will, so... I decided to just jump in and post summat. Even just rambling, which is a bit of a specialty of mine... I mean - what's the worst that can happen, right? 😬

So... how come now? Well, I can't make art or gorgeous screenshots or gifs. I do write, but I'm still hanging out to get the right voices in my keyboard... I know them when I hear them, but you've gotta get the right rhythm going, and I'm not quite there yet, I don't think. Although really, I should probably just sit down and try (and stop waiting for work to shut up and give me time - I should be a pirate and take it!)

Anyway (told you about the rambling...) what I'm mostly doing apart from rewatching the eps on a constant loop is reading the fic. I'm picking it according to kudos on AO3, and according to recs that I see on Tumblr, and it's occured to me that alot of the stories I'm loving must have been recced looong ago, and that newbies like me totally missed them, and so maybe I could do my own recs, even if they are of older stories, and someone might find them useful. You know, if I work out how anyone else might ever see my posts. 😁 And if people aren't put off by my probably age-revealing use of emojis. (But I am entirely age-appropriate for Ed and Stede, and if I had to look up what zaddy meant too, well, that just means I matched Rhys Darby's expression in the bts, right? 🤨)

So it's not much, but I'd like to contribute even just a tiny bit to OFMD fandom in return for everything it gives me, so... yeah. That's my plan. I'll start in a bit, but this post is probably already too long since it's just rambling. And kind of dull. I should probably have said tl:dr at the top, shouldn't I, but then maybe anyone who actually saw this wouldn't, so... See, I kind of live in hope. 😊

Okay. Tags next, right? ... ack ... why won't it let me create new tags instead of just using ones from the drop down...? Well, those will have to do for now... maybe someone who sees this will have mercy and tell me how? I'll just be over here being a slight failure at Tumblr... And if you've made it this far (how long is an acceptable post over here?! Not this long, I don't think...) - thank you hugely for just that, and may your dreams be OFMD and joyous!

#ofmd #ofmd fanfic

82 notes · View notes

grave-z-boy · 1 year ago

Note

are you comfortable with writing about a transman? if so id like to see arthur morgan comforting ftm!reader, maybe calling him a "good boy" to make him happy x

Arthur Morgan x Trans!male!reader

Summary: Reader runs into an old family member and is desperately in need of comfort afterwards. (Once again making excuses to be sad and transgender)

Words: 1264

Warning: hurt/comfort, pre-transition reader is referred to as “dead” and “little girl” by reader, reader threatens his cousin, shitty family members.

A/n: shorter fic cuz I've been banging my head against the wall trying to get the rest of my writing back.

Masterlist

“You need to eat.”

You glanced up at Arthur, the fire between the two of you illuminating him in a orange glow. Your food had gone cold, and you didn’t mean to be wasteful, but today was…a lot. You shifted uncomfortably on the large rock you'd perched yourself on.

“‘M not hungry.”

You heard him sigh as you stared down at your plate.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or are you just gonna sit there and sulk.”

“It's nothing-”

It was something, it was definitely something. You went into town on your own, bright and early so you could be in and out of the shops and get back to camp while the sun was still up. That was the plan, pick up some spices, and oddly enough a picture frame, Arthur had asked for it but he said it wasn't for him, probably gonna be a gift of some kind, you didn't think too much about it.

While you were making sure you're satchel was still secure, you heard a familiar voice.

“D/n?” he called from across the street.

You froze, but just for a moment, you tried climbing onto your horse as fast as you could by you were stopped by a firm grip on your shoulder. Turning, you saw him, right in front of you, your cousin, your asshole of a cousin, Damian.

“Well I'll be damned, it is you!”

Taking a breath you said, “Do I know you?”

“‘Do you’- d/n stop playing around!”

His voice was loud, loud enough to garner unwanted attention from those around you.

“I don't know no d/n sir, you've got the wrong man, now you best take your hand off me before you lose it.”

He backed off, a small apologetic yet nervous smile on his face, “sorry, you just uh, look an awful lot like my little cousin.”

Finally mounting your horse, you looked down at the man. You didn't say anything, just holding his gaze in yours for a long moment before giving him a quick nod and riding off.

You rode out of town faster than you should have, gaining various shouts and complaints from the townspeople who'd nearly stepped in your way.

As you broke out into the open road, your mind swelled with thoughts.

D/n was dead, she’d been dead a long, long time and you really didn't need reminders of her life, especially not the parts she hated.

You didn't want to hate your cousin, you just did. He was an ass and so was the rest of his family, you guess that technically included you too, but you never really felt like they were your family- even when you were little. You were different, so they treated you different. You never knew what tipped them off so early. Maybe you played with the boys too much, or you were too rough with the girls. Whatever it was, they knew before you did, they considered their daughter dead before she was, and they treated you like you killed her.

You liked being dead now, you thought you wouldn't have to worry about your family anymore, they had a whole funeral for you and everything, you figured that they'd move on, that if you did run into them, they'd take you as a ghost and nothing more. Your cousin was always an asshole though, and could never quiet get with the program, that made y'all alike in some ways, but mostly it just drew a bigger rift between you and your family. Everybody loved him, but they hated you, wasn't that funny?

You skid to a stop right outside of camp, zoning back into your surroundings just in time. Hoping off your horse, petting her for a short moment before tying her to a post.

It didn't take long for Arthur to find you, having only been in camp a couple of minutes before he spotted you. Before he even reached you, he could see the grim look on your face as you sat on your cot, glaring at the ground.

Arthur sat next to you, rubbing your back with his hand for a short moment. Arthur wasn't really a touchy person, not in front of people at least, a soothing touch on the back was as close to a kiss as you'd get with this many people around.

You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for a short moment before starting back down at the ground below.

It didn't take much for him to convince you to take a ride with him, especially when he offered to let you ride his horse with him, you appreciated it, knowing that yours would have bucked you off the moment you saddled her after you nearly ran her through camp. You almost felt bad- when you climbed on the horse behind Arthur, watching him avert his gaze from anyone who looked in your direction.

He wasn't ashamed, you knew that, he was just private, didn't like it when people paid too much attention to your relationship, or you at all for that matter.

You rode together for a long while, once you figured the road was clear enough, you wrapped your arms around Arthur and rested against his back, you felt him tense, then ask if you were okay, you nodded, he relaxed after a moment, quietly continuing down the road, he knew you weren't alright, not fully, but he figured talking could wait a couple of hours.

Now you're here, you sat on a rock while Arthur set up camp, when you mumbled an offer to help, he shot it down, reassuring you it was fine.

By the time food was cooked, the sun had set completely, the fire being the only source of light.

“- I swear I just…ran into somebody today.”

You could here the faint clink of silverware against the bowl as Arthur set it to the side.

“‘Somebody’ like who?”

You sighed.

“Like my cousin, Damien, ran into him in town today.”

You weren't fully sure you told Arthur about Damien, but when you looked up at him over the fire you could see a look of annoyance on his face, so you had to at least have mentioned him and his aggravating exploits.

“It's stupid, I just… I don't know. I thought that I would never run into them again, or maybe that they wouldn't recognize me if they did. But he called that little girl's name and it just felt like my heart had stopped.”

Starting down at the dirt, you heard Arthur push himself up off the ground, the dirt crunching beneath his boots. Then he was sitting right next to you, the stone just big enough to hold two queers at once. Meeting his eyes again, you opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a long, tired sigh.

“I know, “ he said, his voice so calm and soft, a tone reserved for those that deserved it, “come here, boy..”

And you did, leaning your head on his shoulder, buried in the nook of his neck, your arms just barely around him in an effort. He wrapped his arms around you far tighter, pulling you into him, feeling your shallow breaths as the day's events replayed in your mind.

“That's it, good boy,” he muttered.

A small smile formed on your face. You hummed in contentment, squeezing him a bit tighter, forcing a small chuckle out of him.

“You liked that?” you nodded, he laughed again.

“It's helping..”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

#arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x male!reader #Arthur Morgan x trans!male!reader #red dead redemption 2 x male reader #red dead redemption 2 x male!reader #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 x male!reader #x male reader #male!reader #male y/n #male reader #red dead redemption 2 #✮ — z boy

320 notes · View notes

yuri-is-online · 1 year ago

Note

Jade would be VERY pleased about finally having another club member. I would be happy to listen to him info dump while we look at mushrooms and neat nature stuff.

I let this sit in my ask box for too long but I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a while and then harveston had to go and drop that one line validating my delusions and you've given me an excuse to post it ha

notes: they/them used for Yuu, violence against animals (a bear), swearing at animals (the same bear), Yuu is unnaturally strong (enough to fight a bear), Yuu is implied to have grown up in a forest/woodsy environment, Jade typical blackmail. Other more serious fic can be found on my masterlist here.

Once upon a time, back when you first arrived in this world, you had been unsure how to feel about NRC. Castles existed back home, sure, but ones like this belonged firmly in illustrations or video games; it felt a but nauseating to walk through your wildest dreams brought to life, even if it was exciting sometimes. It was little wonder to you then that the idea of a Mountain Lover's Club was so appealing.

"Did you hike a lot back home?" Trey has that strange smile on his face that suggests you have made him tense somehow.

"Yes. I practically grew up in the woods." The flow of wind through the branches, the smell of fresh rain on the decomposing earth below, all of it wrapped you in a familiar sense of serenity even if the tree line was completely foreign to you. What are men to rocks and mountains after all? You could make yourself right at home here-

"I still don't think you should join." Trey says with all the air of a man who is certainly not telling you something, but the surprising harsh nod of agreement Riddle gives before injecting himself into the conversation convinces you more than whatever Trey had in mind likely could.

"I'm not entirely certain what they do," Riddle has never forbid you from participating in things since you and his dorm-mates brought him back to his senses," but if you want to hike it might be safer if you did it by yourself, assuming you let one of us know when you are going and when you expect to be back. It wouldn't do to have something that brings you so much joy used against you prefect, none of us want that." But he has always expressed concern when he thinks things to be unsafe, and in this case his argument was something you found yourself agreeing with. Hiking is best done at your own pace anyway, why get a club full of self-centered assholes involved in your me time? Though you did wish now they had been a bit more... specific with their concerns. Maybe outlined some of the club's scheduling, but then they would have needed to ask him and in so doing betrayed your interest.

Which would have been much less embarrassing than how Jade actually found out. Because of course he did, was there ever any doubt he would? ~~~~ There is a creek not far up the mountain path behind your dorm you like to rest at when coming back from your adventures. It's a good place to check over the photos on your camera and enjoy the last few rays of sunlight before returning to whatever mess Grim had made in Ramshackle searching for where you had moved all the tuna cans. Sometimes he joined you, and the two of you would have a little picnic up the path a bit further, but that day had not been one of those days. Nor had the day you met this particular nemesis who is staring you down from just across the creek with such a judgmental glance you would think this was a Sunday brunch and not an afternoon meander through the forest.

"The fuck do you want bitch?" You snarl and the bear indignantly sniffs as if to imply she's better than you. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't realize it was my fault your face is so fucking crooked, thought you were just born that way." She huffs again, making a big show of turning her back on you as you rush to get your equipment off and tucked safely out of reach before the skankiest grizzly you've ever met whips around and charges you shrieking something about "how dare you steal her man!!!!" and blah blah blah "I'll show you, you good for nothing hussy!!!!" as if you could actually understand her and this wasn't a three act play you insisted on writing yourself. You weren't even sure this bear was a girl if you stopped to think about it in between punches, not that you really cared. She huffs and makes a valiant attempt to pin you as you snarl and flash your teeth and beat her right back into the creek laughing at what sounds like pathetic winging about "kids these days!!!" and how rude you are for-

A startled noise pauses your match, as you both turn, harsh glares towards a break in the thicket where a very out of place, very surprised looking man stands, hand infuriatingly poised casually at his chin. His infuriating smirk doesn't unfurl until you growl, deep and low reverberating through your opponent just enough that she decides to leave for the day while you are preoccupied.

"Oya, this is a surprise." Jade doesn't move and you stay firm in the creek, body shaking with unspent adrenaline as he decides to move just a bit closer. "If you were that desperate for a sparring partner, I'm sure Floyd would have obliged, animal abuse is not exactly legal you know?"

"What the fuck are you doing here." You spit before you exit the creek, a flash of something darting through Jade's eyes as his gaze darts between you and your pack on the ground.

"Me? I should be asking that of you. The Mountain Lover's Club had to go through quite an ordeal to get permission to leave the school grounds unsupervised..." His teeth begin to show as you crash down from your high, you hadn't actually thought of whether or not you would need to talk to someone other than a friend about where you were going... surely Riddle would have mentioned something if you did? Or did he not think to ask since he wasn't the adventurous sort? "I can't imagine how the Headmage would react to know his ward had been sneaking out to terrorize the local wildlife."

"Hey Brenda started it!" You snap and Jade looks briefly towards the treeline where a very indignant bear is pursing her lips and inspecting her claws, the very picture of innocence if he does say so himself. "She stole my sandwich while I was taking pictures of the sunset!"

"Maybe you should have had someone there to hold it for you." He laughs, finally moving from his spot towards you and your pack, eyes gleaming with familiarity as he looks over your things. "Perhaps, someone who would be willing to... forget about what he just saw if they accompanied him next time?" It's a threat using what gives you joy against you certainly, and you huff indignantly at it but don't deny his request. Jade is an eel of his word, and his joy at doubling the Mountain Lover's Club membership cannot be contained as he ushers you the rest of the way down the mountain, eager to plan your first expedition together.

Not that he intends to ever delete the pictures he took. Your angry face is just too cute.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #<3 asks #jade leech x yuu #jade: why yes my lockscreen is my partner fighting a bear #what do you mean yours can't do that? skill issue :/#idk this sucks just take it i needed to warm up before working on my longer stuff

188 notes · View notes

minniethemoocherda · 5 months ago

Text

Am I Pretty Enough To Fucking Die?

A/N: Sorry it's been a while since I've posted! IRL stuff got kinda busy for a minute! But I hope it was worth the wait! Also this takes place before my last fic "Saying Something Stupid" Xxxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

They should have realised the first time that they should have died.

They had spent so long in their human form back then that they had nearly been successful in making themselves forget what it was like to be in their natural liquid state. But subconsciously, they mustn't have had, as it was all too easy for Sinister to bring them back from death.

Countless of the countless experiments Sinister put them should have killed them. At times they wished that he had. But as much as it felt like he was trying too kill them, Sinister always brought them back to life.

It wasn't until when Sentinel-Trask shot a fireball at their face, and they heard Logan scream their name in a repeat of that first fatal night, that the thought first came to them. Because whilst the force of having their body ripped apart hurt like hell itself, it could only have been half an hour later that they were able to pull the burnt blobs of their body back together.

Logan refused to leave their side for at least a week after that and whilst Morph wasn't going to complain, they couldn't help but wonder if the extra protection was even necessary.

Morph had no idea about the science behind it but they knew that somehow they didn't need a brain to function. That the few times they reverted back to a full liquid state, just because they didn't have a physical brain to control them, didn't mean they couldn't. Whenever they were in a human form they would create whatever they needed to move their body, such as their heart or lungs or whatever gendered organs they were feeling that day, even though technically they didn't need them to function, as e it would hurt if one of those concocted organs were injured, as it was their cells that were getting damaged, at the end of the day, they could just shift themselves a new one.

They knew that there were other shapeshifters out there. Mystique being the most famous amongst them. Morph had never met her in person but they had read her file. They knew that she could also change their internal organs, it was how Nightcrawler had come into existence after all. And Beast theorised that she could shift at a cellular, maybe even atomic level. But her natural state was still human, a blue skinned and yellow eyed one but human non the less. Whereas Morph's natural state was as a pile of gloop.

Currently they were in what the team saw as their normal form, pale grey skin with a featureless face. The others did know that it wasn't their real form, but Morph doubted that many of them remembered that.

Except for Logan of course, who knew them better than anyone.

They were sitting besides The Wolverine now, a half forgotten game of go-fish scattered across the table between them and bottles of beer keeping them warm against the chill of the evening breeze.

Stealing glances at Logan wasn't anything new for them but this time was different. They gazed at how the last rays of sun illuminated the sharp edge of his nose, wondering how many sunsets that face had seen. Morph believed that Logan was a sight that they would never tire of seeing.

"You gonna keep starin' or are you gonna ask whatever's in that bald head of yours?" Logan grumbled after Morph must have been looking for too long.

The liver and stomach they'd created, digested the alcohol, giving their body a warm buzz, which was probably why Morph didn't think much before opening their mouth.

"When did you realise that you were immortal?"

Judging by the look on Logan's face that wasn't what he had expected them to ask but he answered anyway.

"The first time I remember getting shot in the head."

"Yeah but how did you know, for certain that you were immortal?"

"I don't. Not yet." Logan shrugged. "Beast reckons that gettin' my head cut off would probably do the trick but I ain't plannin' on testin' that out." He then fixed them with those sharp blue eyes of his. "Why?"

Morph took a deep breath. Honestly after coming out as gay and non-binary, this wasn't half as scary.

"I don't think I can die."

"Oh shit." Logan replied after a moment, rare genuine shock crossing his grizzled features. "You sure?"

"Not yet." Morph repeated back to him in his own voice.

"Well I definitely ain't helpin' you test that out either." Logan snorted as though the pair of them were just shooting the breeze, as though this conversation was a completely normal thing to talk about. As thought this was just nothing thing to add to the list of things they had in common like their love of beer, enjoying taking the piss out of Scott and past psychological torture.

But then Logan had always been the only one who understood them. It was what made him so easy to talk to. Almost too easy. Which made it hard not to tell him how they truly felt.

"Looks like you're stuck with me then old man." They said instead.

"Huh." Before Morph had the chance to reflect on that reflective tone, Logan continued. "Well I can think of worse people to be stuck for eternity with."

"Worse then me?" Morph said through the sharp teeth of Sabertooth's mouth.

"If you spend the rest if time dressed up at Creed, I'll kill you myself." Logan said, punctuating his point with the familiar snikt of his claws.

Then the crease in Logan's brow tensed into something sharper.

"Look, sometimes it's harder to be the one who survives. And just 'cus you can't die don't mean you can't feel pain." Logan stated, watching the sun as it finally sunk bellow the horizon.

They both knew that he wasn't talking about the physical kind of pain. It probably wasn't the healthiest conclusion to come to when dealing with ones own mortality or lack there of, but the thought that they couldn't stop coming back to was that it meant that they would never again be able to hurt Logan again with their death.

Then Logan put his claws away, stroking the red of his knuckles as he cleared his throat.

"So don't go looking for new ways to give us all heart attacks alright. I-we don't like seeing you get hurt."

"Trust me I'm not." Morph snorted. "You don't have to worry about me."

Steel blue eyes met their empty grey ones.

"I'll always worry about you."

It wasn't an I love you, and it probably never would be but, promising to care for them for the rest of eternity would most likely be the closest Morph would ever get and they would hold those words forever in their fabricated heart.

Morph honestly hadn't thought too deeply about their new realisation. After coming to terms with their gender and sexuality this was just another thing to add to the long lost of weird shit they'd learnt about themselves.

But it was a comfort to know that whatever life might throw at them, they would always have Logan by their side.

A/N: So the concept of Morph being made of gloop has really stuck in my head and got me thinking how they can function without organs and if they don't need them, then what could actually kill them?? Like they get blasted in the chest in the OG show?? Then Sentinal-Trask blasts them too and we even see them turn to gloop in that shot!!?? So yeah my latest headcanon is that like Logan, they too are potentially immortal! Xxxxxx

#morph #morpherine #wolverine #x men #x men 97 #xmen #morph x men #morph xmen #kevin sydney #logan #logan howlett #james howlett #james logan howlett #morph x wolverine #morph x logan #marvel #xmen 97

58 notes · View notes

silverofthunder · 5 months ago

Text

☆ the prisoner ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader || 🔞 MDNI 🔞

summary: Bying an abandoned house in the middle of the nowhere had seemed like a good idea. But as the nightmares came to plague your dreams, you started slowly to realize that the place you had thought would be a calm, safe haven to you, was anything but that.

content/warnings: 5k words, mystery (kind of), evil demonic creature!Copia, demonic powers, emotional manipulation, nightmares, self-harming, vomiting, non-con vibes, hurt (with minimal comfort), suicidal thoughts, kind of dark & twisted romance, obsessive & possessive behavior

⚫!! this fic might disturbing as there is no nice things happening; Copia is pure evil in this, so if there's something triggering, i suggest you don't read this !! ⚫

I don't know what got into me but I got this idea of something really dark and this piece was born. I've never written anything like this but oh, how fun it was to just go wickedly wild with this. Evil!Copia might own me after this. I'm also kinda scared to post this but hey, this is a work of fiction so... I went to straight into the deep end. Hope that some of you like this!

You should have known it wasn’t a good idea. Bying an abandoned house that was in the middle of nowhere must have been your first idea that was actually the worst. Not that you knew it until it was too late.

But the house had looked so cool – it had something that called you right from the very fist time you saw a picture of it. But when you actually saw it with your eyes, you knew you had to get it and after a few weeks you got the announcement that it was yours. You were so happy when you got the keys and could finally start planning some renovations that needed to be done. You didn’t want to change too much as the house had some character and it didn’t take that long until you could finally stay there.

You enjoyed the quietness, the surrounding forest – after living in a bigger town for several years, it felt like a heaven to finally be able to breathe some fresh air and not feel the rush that seemed to always be present in town. However, after a while you couldn’t help but notice how it was almost too quiet. Despite that the forest was right there, you rarely heard birds or any other animal sounds, the fog there seemed to get thicker even though it wasn’t even autumn yet.

And one night when you stood on the porch, smoking a cigarette, your eyes caught something right on the line of your yard and the forest. The fog made it hard to see properly but it resembled a shape of a man. You stared at it for a while, your heart beating a little quicker in your chest, and then you took a long drag of your cigarette and closed your eyes. You let out the smoke and when you eventually opened your eyes, the man – or whatever it was – was gone.

Maybe it was just your imagination making some stupid shit up. It wouldn’t be a surprise as the place like this could easily get your imagination go wild. Or who knew, maybe someone from the nearest town had heard that someone had bought the house and was now just messing with you a little.

You shook the silly thoughts from your mind and finished smoking your cigarette before going back inside and to your bedroom. You placed your phone on the night stand and slipped under the blankets with a sigh. The sleep became fast and was followed by the dream.

You stood frozen in place, the fog around you so thick you barely see the path you were walking on. The air felt heavy and almost… suffocating. Your head turned side to side and then you heard a rustle and caught something in the corner of your eye on your left. Slowly you turned to look at whatever was there and as soon as your eyes settled on the dark figure, definitely in the shape of a man, you wanted to run. Something within you was screaming ’run’ but your legs wouldn’t obey you. You gasped for air as the man stepped closer to you and now you saw that he had… claws? And something was dripping from those claws.

Blood.

You swallowed, your heart now beating rapidly in your chest, pure fear settling deep within you. And in the next moment you heard a sound that was like a laugh but it made your blood run cold and your skin crawl in the most unpleasant way and then the man – or creature – was gone.

Copia was delighted to know that someone had finally bought the old house. He had now a chance to finally get what he had longed for so long… But he had to be careful at first. Keep a distance, then start slowly to worm his way into the mind of the resident. It shouldn’t be hard to break in and make them realize where they now belonged. To whom they belonged.

A wicked smile rose to Copia’s lips as he looked at the porch, the person standing there, smoking a cigarette. They seemed calm but Copia could sense there were some uneasiness in their bones. It would only be a matter of time before that would turn into a fear, a proper terror and Copia could hardly wait that.

Days went by and Copia watched closely over the person. He was the shadow in the darkest corner, following every movement they made. And their dreams… He had to get into them, make them darker. That way it would be easier to lure them into his world. Eternal darkness was lonely but he knew how to fight against that. He didn’t need to be alone.

Now as he watched the sleeping person, he flexed his clawed fingers, wanting to go and touch them. But it wasn’t time for that, not yet. Instead he inhaled deeply, that oddly sweet scent hitting his nose instantly and he let out a low growl. It was a bit too sweet, it needed to be sharpened.

You threw cold water over your face and dried it with a towel, then looking your face in the mirror. There were slight dark circles around your eyes telling that you hadn’t gotten enough sleep. For a few weeks you hadn’t slept that well as the nightmares had been disturbing you. It was always the same kind of atmosphere in those dreams – distressing, heavy, threatening. And in the middle of it was always the same man, or creature.

With a sigh you set the towel aside and walked to you work room, opening the upper drawer of your desk and took the old, worn-out diary out of it. You had found it a few days earlier in the attic, secured into a box. The lock had been so rusty it had opened easily and so you had gotten the access to the diary. At first you thought you didn’t want to find out what was written in it but eventually your curiousity had won and you had started to read it.

It had been hard to read, the handwriting being quite messy but you had been able to make out some sentences and words.

A demonic creature in the house. Nightmares. Scratches on the skin. The feeling that someone is watching you all the time.

Some of those sounded familiar. Especially the feeling that someone was watching you. At first you had brushed that feeling off but now that it had gotten even more stronger, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. But you didn’t know what you could do to it so you tried to just go on. Whatever was there… Well, maybe you would eventually found it out.

Nightmares was another thing you could sign. A demonic creature didn’t really ring a bell but there was some creature in your dreams so maybe it was that? Or did that mean the one watching you was a demonic creature? You didn’t know if you believed in those – you couldn’t believe in anything you hadn’t seen, right?

Scratches on the skin. Those you hadn’t seen – yet and it was terrifying. What would it mean when they appeared? That someone was actually there, in the house, with you? So many questions but so little answers. You opened the diary, searching for the last page that contained writing, the last words…

Leave before it’s too late.

That was written much clearer and repeated a few times until it all turns into a mix of red and black. Blood and ink, maybe. Something in your stomach turned as you thought of what might have happened to whoever had written the diary. Then you closed the diary, setting it on the desk before sitting down on the chair and opening your laptop.

You had googled your house before, obviously, but you hadn’t really paid much attention to other stuff beside the sales ad. You typed the place into the search bar and started going through the results.

Missing people, no bodies found. Stories of the ’man of the forest’ and several mentions of demon that lived in the house. You weren’t exactly surprised but the results definitely didn’t ease your nerves. Which ones those things were actually true and which ones were only made up, that you couldn’t tell.

Suddenly a loud, screeching sound interrupted you and you almost fell from your chair as you turned to look at the window. A shiver run down your spine as you saw long, clawed fingers scraping the glass. Your heartbeat rang in your ears as you stared how the claws dissappear from your sight. Then you waited and waited, tried to listen if you could hear anything else, something unusual. But you couldn’t.

Only quietness was left.

You breathed deeply in and released the breath slowly, then shook your head. Maybe your tired mind was starting to really play tricks on you. It had happened before so why would this time be any different?

Copia was smiling widely, walking towards the person who now leaned against the tree, eyes wide with fear, the smell of fear strong around them. Copia flashed his fangs, extending his hand and wrapping his clawed fingers around the person’s throat.

”Mmmh, such a delicious sight you are,” he purred venomously, leaning closer to the person who let out a miserable cry, squeezing their eyes shut. That sound made Copia hum pleased and he tightened his hold around the person’s throat.

”Burns,” the person croaked out, tears spilling from their eyes and Copia only chuckled darkly.

”Shhh, it won’t hurt long.”

He did enjoy seeing his preys hurting. But this one was no ordinary prey, no. This one was something else. Something so much better. He then released the person’s throat, his eyes falling to the red marks on the skin and ran one claw over it, the touch making the person sob and twitch. Copia licked his lips, moving his fingers under the person’s jaw and tapping the skin with his claws.

”Open your eyes,” he asked but the person gave just a little shake of head. Copia grabbed a hold of their jaw, repeating the words with a growl. The person finally obeyed, opening their eyes and Copia’s smile grew pleased.

”That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The person didn’t say anything, just stared at him with watery eyes and Copia could hear their heart beating rapidly. He could sense how much they wanted to run away, as far as they could get from him. They couldn’t run, though, as Copia didn’t want them to. On rare occasions he allowed the preys to run but it was more fun like this – when all they could do was stand frozen in place and take whatever treatment Copia offered.

And usually the treatment they got was far from pretty.

”What are you?” The person’s voice was barely audible and they looked like they had almost given up. Accepted their fate, whatever that might be. Copia chuckled, squeezing the person’s jaw.

”Your worst nightmare.”

You stopped by the small cafe when you were driving back to your house. It was kind of strangely cozy with its slightly worn-out table-chair sets and with a decor that you could only describe as witchy. You bought a coffee and a little piece of chocolate cake and went to sit in the corner, near the window.

There weren’t that many people in but you couldn’t help but notice that a few of them seemed to look at you curiously and then whispering something to whoever was sitting beside them. It was a small town where most of the people probably knew each other, at least by face, and you hadn’t visited the places in there for many times so people probably didn’t recognize you.

You tried to ignore the staring, moving your gaze out the window. The clouds seemed to be darker, the blue sky disappearing behind them – most likely it would soon start to rain. The leaves in the trees were also starting to change their color, the red, yellow and orange blending into the green, and you couldn’t wait to see the nature in its autumn glory. You could imagine how beautiful the forest would look from your porch.

”Monster lives in your house.”

You got startled by the voice and turned to see a little girl standing close by, looking at you with wide eyes. Beside her was supposedly her mother who offered you an awkward smile. You smiled at her back before turning your attention back to the little girl.

”I don’t believe in monsters,” you said as politely as you could, and the girl blinked, shaking her head.

”Not all of them are real but the one in your house is.”

What the--? You let out a sigh, taking a sip from your coffee and the mother of the girl took her hand.

”Sorry, she is a bit… meddlesome,” the mother said, making a face at that and you gave a small wave of a hand. That wasn’t the first time someone said something like that about your house. Despite not visiting the town much, the whispers still had reached your ears.

You quickly finished your coffee and the cake, exiting the cafe and walking to your car as fast as you could. When you got inside, you slammed your forehead against the wheel, letting out a string of curses. You were tired, confused and a bit afraid. People weren’t exactly wrong – you knew there was someone in your house, at least part of the time. But who, that was still a mystery to you.

Copia dragged his claws along the wall, watching the person flinch and turn their head from side to side, eyes wide before walking over to another wall and doing the same, this time much slower. The person’s eyes settled onto the marks, mouth hanging open in shock and Copia could sense the question burning on their tongue.

He waited, patiently, but for his disappointment the person stayed quiet. They squeezed their hands into fists, anger replacing the shock on their face as they stormed off to another room. Copia followed close by, seeing how the person grabbed the old diary from the desk drawer and sat down on the bed, opening it.

Copia recognized that diary. Remembered how he had watched it to be written. The owner had suffered greatly until the very last day. It had been such a fun game. To drive the poor one mad and then strike when they had least expected it.

Copia smiled at the memory, still fresh in his mind.

”Stupid diary!” Copia chuckled at the person’s frustration as they went through the pages. ”Why can’t you give me any clear answers?”

He walked closer to the person, stopping right beside them, and thought of forcing them to look at him. The power he would feel when the person would gaze up at him, fear clear in their eyes, a weak plea on their lips. He imagined how he would run his claws along those pretty features, rip those clothes off and reveal the body underneath, admire it before marking it as his.

He was almost touching the person as he broke out of his reverie, and backed off a few steps. It was hard to keep control when something so delicious was right before him. But he didn’t want to ruin his chance – if things went right, he could be able to feast from this for a very long time. A little more time was all he needed.

The dreams, nightmares, had turned into more sexual ones and whenever you woke up, you were feeling so strange that you were sure you were starting to lose your mind. It wasn’t the only odd thing, though, there was also the red scratch marks that now marred your skin, mostly on your neck and arms but a few times you had spotted them on your hips and thighs.

They were real, lingering on your skin for days.

In resent nightmares you had seen the man, the creature, finally revealing himself from the shadows as he used your body to his own fun. Before he had been just a shape, like a black smoke-kind of thing and now he had a face of a man, covered with black and white paint, other eye seeming very human-like while the other glowed inhumanly white. Fingers with long claws, sharp fangs that was revealed whenever he had that wicked, predatoric smile on.

And his voice… That deep growl, it seemed to nest into you in a way that made you want to rip your skin off. He might have looked partly like a human but it was clear that he wasn’t a human. No human could ever make you feel like that. There was something so dark in him, no sign of kindness in his eyes when he had looked at you while your bodies had been slotted together in what should have been a pleasurable heaven.

To you it had been hell.

You took a pillow and pressed in against your face, screaming into it as you had done several mornings. It helped a little but not enough. You felt dirty in the worst way possible and went to shower quickly, trying to scrub him off of your skin, of your memory. The scratch marks stung but you didn’t stop scrubbing until some of them started to bleed.

With a head hung low you watched how the water turned to pink, disappearing eventually to the drain. After stepping out of the shower and drying yourself, you looked for some ointment and applied it upon the worst of the scratch marks. You did your best to avoid focusing on your image in the mirror and got dressed quickly, feeling slightly better when most of those ugly marks on your skin disappeared from your sight.

You went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for something to eat. You weren’t that hungry as the images of your dreams made you feel nauseous but you still had to eat something. You made yourself a sandwhich and sat down on the nearest chair to eat it. A few days old newspaper was on the table and your eyes landed on the small headline on the left corner.

A missing person found dead in the woods

The body had been found near the other town and the police had apparently arrested someone that they thought had been behind it. So far there hadn’t been any disturbing news regarding the area where you lived but for some reason you believed that people might just keep their mouths shut if they saw something unusual happening. Hell, that was what you were now doing.

But the thing was… If you had talked about this all to someone, would they have believed you?

With a sigh, you continued munching your sandwhich, focusing your gaze somewhere at the opposite wall. It was a quiet morning, as usual – too quiet. At first it had been so relaxing and welcomed but now it only seemed to be a sign of something bad, something that still mostly hid in the shadows. You could feel the heaviness upon you, a force that seemed to grow darker every day.

A sudden tightening in your stomach made you froze for a moment and you dropped the rest of your sandwhich onto the table. The nausea had come back with a force and now you had to rush into bathroom and bend over the toilet to empty your stomach. Tears spilled into your eyes as you finally slid to the floor after you were sure nothing more came up.

You drew your legs closer, wrapping your arms around them and burying your head between your knees. Sobs jolted your body and you cried until you just couldn’t anymore. On the outside you looked like a mess, you had no much energy to do things and internally you were screaming.

Screaming into the void where no one could hear you.

Poor thing, Copia thought as he watched the person trying to tame the vines that had grown too big on the side of the house. They had fallen down a few times and Copia could sense that their strength had lessened. He flashed a pleased smile as he knew that his moment to shine was about to come soon. The poison was already rooted within them, slowly spreading, consuming them.

Copia went closer, leaning against the wall, eyes glued to the person who let out a frustrated grunts every once in a while as they cut the vines and pulled them off. Their shirt hung on them loosely, much loosely than it had sometime ago, the red marks on their skin now more prominent. They healed slower even though the person had put some kind of ointment on them.

With every passing day the beauty of the person grew and Copia was fully entranced. Meddling with dreams had been fun and all but the best part was yet to come and he couldn’t wait for it. It was a different thing to be the plague of the dreams than to be the nightmare of the reality. Though, for the person, the line between the dream and reality had already gotten blurry.

Copia hummed and the placed his claw against the wooden wall, slowly carving a long line onto it, and watched how the person’s head turned right towards him. The look in their eyes barely had any shock or surprise in them as they stared right at him. Of course, they couldn’t see him unless he wanted them to but still, their eyes were straight on him, then moving to the carved line.

With a weak laugh and a shrug, they returned back to their work and Copia continued watching them, his mind already wandering to what was to come. How his work would soon be complete. Step by step the eternal darkness was starting to feel less lonely. Soon he would have a companion to share it all.

He could already feel the power that he would possess after the union was complete.

Mine, mine, MINE.

The voice sounded so real and you blinked your eyes open, your vision blurry for a while. You shook your head, breathing heavily and soon you heard that voice again, the sound of it so loud you jumped straight up from the bed.

”This isn’t funny anymore! Whoever you are, stop messing with me!”

You knew it wouldn’t probably help but you had to do something. An echo of an evil laugh came somewhere behind you and you turned to look at there, seeing nothing.

”Leave me alone!” Your voice sounded thin and weak and tears burned in your eyes. You were so desperate for this all to end. This nightmare had to end.

There was a wind-like sound and then the same voice was whispering something right into your ear – or that was how it felt.

Run, run, RUN.

As the last word came out, your legs worked like an automatic and despite the weakness in your muscles, they carried you downstairs and out of the house. The cold night hit your skin immediately as you were wearing only an oversized t-shirt and your underwear. You didn’t look back as you run, heading straight towards the forest, the thick fog surrounding you as soon as you reached it.

You wanted to stop but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t. Tears were now blurring your vision and you could barely breathe as you legs led you even deeper into the forest. And then it felt like you collided with an invisible wall, cutting your way and sending you to the ground. Soon the same evil laugh reached your ears, making your gut twist and you knew whatever was coming, couldn’t be anything good.

A figure of a man stepped into your line of vision from the shadows and the closer he got, the more details you started to see. You recognized him – it was the same man, or creature, from your dreams. The black and white paint on his face, the glowing inhuman white eye, fangs and claws. You couldn’t do anything than sit there, on the ground, frozen, a huge wave of dread swirling inside you. The closer the creature got, the more… powerless you started to feel, like someone was trying to shrink you.

You knew instantly that there wasn’t anything kind in that creature. Everything around him screamed danger and evil, as well as the way his eyes seemed to flash when he kneeled down and placed one of his clawed fingers under your jaw.

”Finally we meet in person, my darkest one,” he spoke, his voice making cold shivers run down your spine. You swallowed, then drew in a short breath, your whole body starting to shake as you fought against the mysterious force that kept you stuck in there.

”Oh, poor thing,” the creature cooed mockingly, slowly dragging his claw along your throat. ”There’s no point in fighting. You can’t go anywhere unless I let you.”

The smile that rose to the creature’s lips, didn’t leave anything unclear and you were starting to realize that maybe your nightmare hadn’t even started properly yet.

”Let me go,” you said through your teeth, and that only made the creature chuckle wickedly, his fingers wrapping around your throat as he leaned closer. He mouth was so close to your lips and you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for his next move. Your nails dug into the ground as you soon felt a pair of lips pressing against the corner of your mouth.

The kiss burned and you let out a scream, though it sounded so weak in your own ears. The creature’s hum echoed all around you as his hold around your throat tightened.

”I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

That was the last thing you heard before the darkness filled your mind.

Your whole body felt like being on fire as you finally got a part of your consciousness back. Everything hurt and you could only make out a figure hovering above you and the blurry surroundings. You were inside the house, in your bedroom, on your bed, completely naked.

”Shhh, it won’t hurt soon,” the creature spoke as he run his hand along your body, and you writhed underneath him. His voice was far from comforting.

Nothing had ever hurt so much. It was blinding, the burn slowly crawling under your skin. And all you wanted was it to end, you would do anything to make it end.

”Please, make it stop,” you cried out, tears flowing as it all was too much. Lips pressed against your cheek, claws digging into your hip and it only made it all worse. The creature took it slow, he wanted you to suffer, he enjoyed seeing you in pain. The chuckle he let out after another burn wave hit you, was pleased.

It was slowly sinking in that this all had been just a fun game to him. That he had pulled the strings right from the start and you hadn’t been able to do anything but to play along. This had been his goal all along, to use you as he wished, mentally and physically. There would be no way out of this nightmare anymore.

You wished you could die. That would surely end the suffering.

”Oh, I like the way you think but sadly that’s not my plan,” the creature said, his lips fanning over your marred skin on your chest and something within you shattered.

So you were getting the worst fate one could think of.

”Mine… You’ll mine,” the creature continued, his voice seeming to ooze more power with every word. ”You’ll help me to rule the darkness, the shadows.”

You drew in sharp breaths as the creature’s lips found your most sensitive parts of your body and you felt the nausea twist in your stomach. He growled as you writhed, some wicked pleasure blending with the disgust as your body reacted to his touch. It was wrong, so wrong. You grabbed a fistful of sheets, the burn spreading all over you again, the pillow under your head feeling damp from all the tears you had shed.

”Do you want me to take you?”

No, you wanted to say but that wasn’t what came out of your mouth.

”Yes.”

And in the next moment, he entered your body, claiming you as his. The pain only got worse but it lasted only for a moment, being soon replaced by something that you couldn’t describe. It wasn’t pain but it was far from pleasure, too. You felt something flowing into you – something purely evil, conquering you, filling your every cell with darkness.

There was no gentleness, only harsh movements as the creature defiled your body. You wanted to scream but it was only possible in your mind, the echo of it mixing with the moan escaping from your mouth in reality.

Or was this even the reality, you didn’t know. And it didn’t matter whether this was a dream or reality as the nightmare was still there, in the form of this creature that looked too much like a man. A handsome man that surely would have caught your attention if you had seen him somewhere in town.

A devil in disguise, spreading his poison into you and bounding you to him.

As his eyes finally met yours, you knew that there was no point of return. This house, the place you had thought would be your safe haven, had now become a cage and the man, the creature above you, in you, was a predator. A predator who loved to play with his preys. But you weren’t a prey, no, you were something much worse.

A prisoner, his prisoner – maybe even some kind of a spouse – for as long as he wished.

#papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics

51 notes · View notes

findafight · 2 years ago

Text

Not me writing a prologue for a fic I'll maybe never write about Steve being on the Dream Team lmao. I saw a pro basketball player Steve post a while ago and couldn't stop thinking about it. Anyways-

At the end of March Madness in 1989, the scout for the Pacers has lunch with the head coach of a community college basketball team that somehow made it to the first round before being pulverized. They sit across from each other, the coach seemingly a bit overwhelmed but not outright surprised. That's good, it means Jerry, the scout, doesn't have to worry about him freaking out or babbling too much.

The team captain had caught his, and possibly others', eye. Good layups, a few three pointers, solid defence, and a helluva lot of potential add up to someone to keep an eye on, except they can't because the guy plays for a rinky-dink community college and only had one televised game. The only reason Jerry saw the kid is because the Roane County Community College Ospreys had put in a hell of a fight the past three seasons. Jerry wonders why the hell the kid hadn't been offered a scholarship somewhere...not Roane County. Doesn't matter though, because they're here now.

"so. You wanted to talk about Steve?" Says the coach, August Nearaly, a bit weary.

Jerry nods, sipping his coffee. "Yeah. Wanted to get a sense of him before I actually talked to him."

August sighs. "As a player or as a person?"

Raising his eyebrows. "Is he that different off the court?"

"no! No, not like how you probably think. Harrington's a sweet kid, but also incredibly...well, not weird, but. Peculiar? He's got quirks. Bit paranoid, but not in a conspiracy way. In a 'no one should walk home alone in the dark' or 'hey, where'd John go? He was right here and then I did a headcount and he's not?' kinda way. Y'know? Like, they're all adults, but he does headcounts and worries anyways."

"huh. Oookay?"

"it-- I'm not saying this to rag on him, to be clear. It just too a while to get used to. Honestly, it's been good for team building. Makes them think of each other not as individuals, but part of a unit that needs everyone healthy and whole to work."

"that's good. He's a team player."

"oh yeah. It's not surprising, really. He's from Hawkins." August says the name like Jerry should know what that means. It's a town, sure, but other than that... Jerry's at a loss. Maybe something a few years ago about a fire? "He has most assists in Osprey history. Some of the guys joke that he's allergic to the ball."

"He's good on the court?"

"Jerry. I know you're here because you saw the March Madness game. You know he's good. He'd be even better if he could afford those fancy prescription goggles Horace Grant wears."

"seriously? Why not contacts?"

"don't make them for his prescription. You didn't see his interview? Kid's got thick horn rimmed glasses. Too many concussions apparently. God knows how he tells players apart when the jersey colours are similar."

"shit. That's why he was squinting the whole time? I thought he was just stressed."

He shrugged. "eh. Probably a bit of both. He takes it seriously, but not too seriously. Y'know? Half the guys were shitting themselves from nerves and Harrington stands up in the locker room, hands on his hips, and gives a speech worthy of the most melodramatic underdog sports movie."

Jerry laughs. "No shit."

Waving his hands, August nods. "no shit! He says all this stuff like 'we worked hard...we deserve this...we may not win but let's do our damn best. The worst that could happen is we lose, and that isn't the end of the world. So let's go out there and play some basketball!' or something, his was better, and the boys cheer. Then they put in fifty points to one-thirty."

Jerry winces. "Must have hurt, huh?"

August grins. "No way. One of the best games they ever played. You saw it. You wouldn't be here if you hadn't. They played their goddamn hearts out." He leans forward. "My boys don't have the same facilities as the big universities, or the funding to offer scholarships. They're at Roane Community because they want a degree or certificate but have other responsibilities. Parents or siblings to stay close to, jobs to work, people to take care of. They joined my team because they like playing basketball, loved the game and wanted to spend some of their precious time playing it. They put the work in on the court and off it. And we made it to the NCAA tournament because of it. We put in fifty points against the goddamn Michigan Wolverines! The champs! And they knew that. I've never heard of a locker room after an 80 point defeat so happy."

"seriously?"

It's all pride when Coach Nearaly says "yep. They may not be the best basketball players in college, but my god, they're probably the best team."

"because of Harrington?"

"partly. They all contribute, make sure they do things right. It's not a one man show, that's the point. They rally around him, but they all are part of the team, and know it. That's what Steve makes sure. Why I made him captain."

"So, you think he'd be a good pick for the Pacers?" This is, after all, a business meeting.

August nods, picks at his pancakes. "I'll be honest with you Jerry. You're not the first scout to talk to me about Steve."

"really? Who?"

"you know I won't say. But, between me and you, Steve's Indiana born and bred. His wife's planning on getting some lib Arts degree in Chicago or Indy, and your offer might be the deciding factor for them."

Jerry blinks. "He's married? At, what? Twenty-one?"

August nods. "Just turned twenty-two. High school sweethearts or something. Obsessed with each other." He chuckled, a bit ruefully. "I'm a bit jaded but damn. You mention her name? He lights up like the fuckin Fourth of July."

Jerry whistles. "Honeymoon phase gets us all."

"for almost two years? Nah. It's just love." It sounds a little wistful, coming from August. "Anyways. I dunno if the other team is serious about him, and if they are, they'll probably be disappointed. Kid isn't moving out of the Midwest. He's got family here, and is getting a goddamn elementary education degree. He won't uproot his life for a chance at the NBA. But, if you offer. Well. He'd at least seriously consider it."

Humming, Jerry chews his eggs as he thinks. "You think he'd be up for the lifestyle? The road games out numbering home ones?"

There's an air of seriousness when August levels Jerry with a look. "If he doesn't want to, he'll tell you. You gotta give him time to talk to his family though. This offer? It'll come out of left field for him, even if I give him a heads up. You get that, yeah? You want to recruit a kindergarten teacher to the NBA without any build up. He needs time to process that and then see where the people in his life are at with it."

"I guess it is unusual."

"try being the community college basketball coach getting two goddamn calls from NBA scouts. Thought I was hallucinating."

Jerry laughs, counts some bills for the tip. "Thank you. For your time and insights. Let Steve know I'll call tomorrow?"

"will do. He'll still probably drob the phone on you, though."

"as long as he doesn't hang up!"

#Steve Harrington #platonic stobin #steddie #stranger things #qpr stobin #teacher steve harrington #stobin #dream team steve au #listen. famous basketball player steve is friends with lead guitarist Eddie Summons (alias to not be as connected to the who 86 thing)#steve and his friends have a very nice vacation in the summer of 92 to Barcelona.....#literally none of the characters are here its just two randos talking about steve lmao #finda writes stuff #finda's rambles #also hos number is 52 because that adds up to seven hehe #sorry to the guy who actually got drafted by the pacers in 89 but i dont care #also. my experience with team sports is that one time we won handily but felt bad because we didnt play very well and we could FEEL it #and the next game we got pummeled but played so much better and could feel the team come together it was magical

402 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 10 months ago

Note

Hi hi! I have a question and I apologise if it's impertinent but I really didn't have anyone else to ask. I'm new to ao3 and I'm still figuring out how it works. The problem is this- when I look up a character x reader, I'll see the tag included in many works that have oneshots but since it's a side character, more often than not the oneshot for the character hasn't been written and the tag has been there for months. Is it okay to do that or is it tagging something incorrectly? They say they'll write one eventually but they never do, y'know? To me it kind of feels like they're just trying to reach a wider audience but because of this I can't even filter tags and I have to manually search through the book to check if the character is included, especially when the chapters are titled only by numbers :')

Is it okay to tag things in advance like that?

Oh boy...

Wattpad refugees do tend to use AO3 "wrong", sometimes in ways that break the rules and sometimes just in ways I find annoying and against typical AO3 culture.

I'm assuming you are coming from Wattpad based on you calling a work or a fic a "book", which is a very, very Wattpad thing to do.

I'm assuming they are coming from Wattpad given the bad behavior you're describing and the fact that they're a x reader writer.

So, here's the thing, if you start writing a fic and there's any amount of the actual fic, even if it's pretty short and bad or in a weird format or whatever, it's still a valid fanwork. Most of the time, AO3 leaves it to the author to decide how to tag (aside from a very few things like death threats in the tags or failing to use the required archive warnings).

AO3 won't stop someone from tagging a future pairing that hasn't appeared yet.

But "books" of "oneshots" are such an obnoxious Wattpad thing. This is a completely stupid use of AO3 from the "Please send me prompts" part that is usually in there to the way that unrelated fics are smashed together.

It's not against the rules, but it's a crappy use of AO3 befitting of n00bs.

Sadly, old hands at AO3 also make shitty works that are unrelated stories mashed together. They're often a whole set of kinktober fics or something where the trope tags and the ship tags are accurate, but you can't tell which ones go with which ones without searching the whole fic.

We regularly complain about that on here.

A much better way to use AO3 is to make a series titled "My x Reader Oneshots" or "All of my kinktober fics" where each separate story is its own work with its own tags.

My assumption is that this person is using the inaccurate tag both to get more eyeballs on their existing work and because they probably take prompts for that ship or something. (I'm basing this on the kinds of things people say on their oneshot books on Wattpad. Maybe they don't actually take prompts since you haven't mentioned it.)

Some people just don't care that they're annoying others and messing up the tags, but I think some actually don't realize how AO3 filtering works and have no idea this behavior is a nuisance.

On a lot of sites, both Wattpad and algorithm-driven social media, unless a post/work is very popular, it disappears out of sight. Even an inaccurate tag doesn't do that much.

On AO3, one is getting a full list of everything with the tag, going back however far. It's a library catalogue for which you should use accurate data. But this writer is probably thinking of tags more as advertising and a way to get their name out there so readers can follow them pre-emptively. They mean to write the ship in the future, so it's not really inaccurate... (And, tbh, if it were a single work and the ship just hadn't appeared yet, I would agree with them even though those are frustrating too.)

So no, they should not do this.

But it's not actually against the rules.

I would mute the annoying people who do this.

58 notes · View notes

violetswritingg · 3 months ago

Text

Thunderstruck

Tyler Owens x OFC!

Description: When cowgirl meets cowboy after a year of no-contact and chaos ensues during storm season!

Rating: M (Mentions of blood and death in Tornadoes and storms alike, angst and loss of loved ones, car accidents, Tornado aftermath, and injury to characters, slight age gap (5 years))

Hey! I don't normally post my writing on here, I'm normally only on Wattpad but I decided to cross post and so here is the first of many fics to be moved over here and enjoyed as well! I hope you guys enjoy the story, I honestly have no idea who many chapters this is going to be lol.

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

April, 2005

Oklahoma

The sound of silverware on plates was all that could be heard, but that was normal for a Thornton-Harding-St. James family dinner. Nathan and Juliette had been tense all dinner barely saying a word to each other. All since Jo and Bill had arrived all smiles. The women's mother Michelle, and both Jo and Bill watching the parents as if they were an active bomb ready to go off at any moment. Nathan was at least trying. Smiling, as best he could, and making polite conversation when prompted, the father mainly focused on Riley who sat on his other side. Making sure she wasn't playing with her food.

At six she should know better, and he needed to teach her it was rude to waste the food someone had worked really hard to make for them. But now that the food had been eaten, there wasn't much distraction left to hide behind.

"Uh, so, Julie, how's Riley been doing in school?" Jo tried; she really did. But Juliette was mean on a good day and that day was not today. The empty wine glass next to her being her fourth, and once she got to drinking her temper just got worse.

"She's doing fine." Juliette sniffed as she sat up straighter, a forced smile on her face. Eyes narrowed as she settled into a defensive position. "Why?"

"No reason, just making conversation." Jo sighed, looking at Bill for a second before meeting Nathan's grimaced grin. Trying not to cause a scene in front of everybody was taking all his will power, wanting nothing more than to snap at Juliette and shake her. Hoping that would maybe change her entire personality, the one he hadn't seen until she was telling him she was pregnant and that it was his all those years ago.

"Right." Juliette scoffed, "You have no right to judge me, you don't even have a kid!" her jaw snapped shut, eyes blistering as she spat her words at her older sister. Jo tensed up and Riley had started to pay attention to the adults at the table instead of finishing her little slice of pie. Nathan wanted to crawl into a hole and die, take Riley with him far far away from Juliette. Riley loved Jo and Bill though and he couldn't just do that. Michelle was over the moon when she found out she was going to have a grandbaby, she's 75 now and doesn't have a lot of time left to spend with anyone, much less Riley, not with how her health had been declining recently. The stress of living in Tornado alley having taken its toll after her husband was taken in that fateful storm.

Riley was her whole world. Michelle watched her when Nathan, Bill, and Jo were out storm chasing. Juliette, even though she lived in the same house, the Harding family farm. Being rebuilt on the same land, Michelle couldn't bare to leave it behind after the original house was destroyed. Riley didn't mind it, even though she missed her dad, she loved getting to hang out with Grandma. They were like best friends. But Nathan had needed to start taking Riley with him and his team because of her health issues, and because he knew that Juliette would leave Riley to her own devices for however long he was gone, the almost 6 year old hanging out in the tech van usually a couple miles behind him and always a safe distance from the storm in pursuit.

"I am very much aware of that Juliette." Jo grit out, Bill reaching out an arm around her shoulders, the couple had hit their early 40's, still childless, still chasing. But had been entertaining the idea of settling down after one too many close calls. The topic of having kids was a sensitive one, they had been trying quietly for about a year now and no luck. Something Jo had shared with her sister and Nathan in confidence.

"The food was great Michelle-" Bill tried to move onto another topic, but got blocked.

"I'm not surprised though, I'm sure there's cobwebs up there at this point." Juliette cruelly laughed. "I'm sure Bill will move on to a younger model when he finally realizes you'll never be able to produce."

"Juliette May Thornton! You watch your-"

"What mom?" Juliette turned on Michelle next, the elderly woman sitting taller in her chair, white hair pulled back in a simple style, warm eyes worn and normally full of life. Now though, they only held disappointment in her youngest daughter. "There it is. There's the look. I'm not going to take this; I am not going to be attacked in my own goddamn house." Julliette huffed and pushed out her chair with a sharp scrape against the wood flooring and stomped upstairs.

Nathan let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, as Riley's little voice called out for her mom. Only to be ignored.

"Why don't you go turn on some cartoons okay baby? You got 30 minutes until bedtime, you get one show and then in the bath for you okay?" Nathan picked up his daughter and hauled her into his lap, booping her nose, causing light giggles to erupt.

Riley's dark blonde curls bouncing as she nodded quickly, Nathan setting her on her feet and the adults chuckled as she all but ran. Already hearing the Scooby-doo theme song playing over the air. The tension leaving his shoulders now that the cause of all his stress was no longer in the room.

"I'm sorry." He breathed, "She's been in a bad mood all day, picking fights just because."

"Hey, I grew up with her. If I'm not used to it at this point, then I need a thicker skin." Jo chuckled, despite the hurt still lingering in her eyes.

"Still, what crawled up her ass and died?" Bill scoffed, pulling Jo to his side and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. Nathan watching, his sight going green for a second. That's what he wanted, it's what he didn't know he wanted until he saw it with them, until he had to spend his days attached to Juliette. Riley was the bright spot, the good thing to come out of a shitty situation. Nathan would deal with Juliette every day for the rest of his life as long as he got to see Riley.

"I have been asking myself that question for years Billy." Nathan sighed out, laughing to himself, resigned to dealing with it later.

~~*~~

"What you said at dinner was uncalled for." Nathan puffed out, pulling off pillows from their shared bed. He may as well be sleeping alone though.

"Are you gonna attack me now too Nathanial?" Juliette scoffed, rolling her eyes at him from the bathroom vanity mirror as she got ready for bed. The slight slur to her voice telling him the wine was starting to hit her full force now.

"I'm not attacking you, simply stating you went too far. And that maybe you owe Jo an apology?" He tried, but got nothing but a single, indignant laugh in response.

"You think she's better than me huh? Is that it?!" Nathan hung his head, abandoning the task of making up the bed. He pushed back the tears of frustration and looked back at the woman he was sure he had been in love with, or at the very least liked at one point.

"When have I ever said that?" He started, voice heavy with exhaustion.

"You don't have to say it, you've always liked her better than me. Just like everyone else! I thought you were different!"

"You are 36 years old Juliette! When are you going to let this go?" He never raised his voice when they argued, never wanting Riley to hear, but Juliette seemed to want to wake the whole house which included Jo and Bill who were spending the night before heading out in the morning. Thunder rolled in the distance.

"You aren't denying it! God! I am so stupid! I never should have stayed. Never should have-" She kept muttering under her breath every seeming regret she had as she stormed into the room, yanked open the closet, grabbing a duffle bag from inside and throwing her clothes in it haphazardly. "This place is suffocating! You are suffocating with your judgy eyes and every comment about how I raise Riley-"

"You don't! That's the issue! What are you doing?" Nathan sighed as she plopped the duffle bag on the still made up side of the bed, her side.

"What does it look like. I can't stay here. Not with you or them. All of you just hate on me all the time, look at me like I'm nothing but a disappointment. I'm sorry I'm not perfect! I'm sorry I'm not golden girl Jo!" Juliette finished, throwing an arm towards the door, chest heaving as she zipped up her duffle bag and yanked open the bedroom door. Slamming it shut behind her.

Nathan listened to her as she went down the stairs, taking a breath before he was going after her, repeating over and over she is the mother of your child in his head. When they first met, it was in the middle of storm season and Jo's kid sister decided she wanted to come with her chasing that year, she was just as wild back then. Less mean, less insecure. She was all bright eyes and wide smiles, soft skin and warm affection. Until she got pregnant. That's when everything changed.

"Jules! Jules!" Nathan whisper-shouted, as he tripped down the stairs.

"What's happening?" Bill questioned, opening the door to the guest room on the first floor, in a white t-shirt and his boxers, yawning and scratching his face. Jo's voice behind him asking the same thing, sleep slurring her words though.

"I don't know William, ask your wife." Juliette spit as she past him and Nathan was still trying to get to her.

"Just go back to bed, sorry for waking you-"

"Oh shut up Nathan!"

"Was I talking to you?!" He finally snapped and Bill's mouth dropped, Juliette looked like she had been slapped.

"Well, I never..." Juliette huffed, holding a hand to her chest. Crocodile tears in her eyes, Nathan had seen them enough to know she was just trying to make him feel guilty. It was at that moment that Jo decided to get out of bed and come to the door to see what was going on.

"Bill, Jo, please, go back to bed. We're fine-"

"No! We're not fine. You know this is all your fault? Right?! If I had never gotten pregnant, my life wouldn't be like it is now. Miserable. If I had never met you or had Riley I would be happy. I wish I had never met you! I wish I had gotten rid of the baby, keeping her was a mistake-"

"Hey!-" Nathan could only see red.

"Mommy?"

Everything stopped and it felt like a lead weight had been dropped into Nathan's stomach. He turned around and looked up at the bottom of the stairs, the dirty-blonde head of his daughter, her big blue eyes, his eyes, staring up at her mother with confusion.

It was clear Juliette didn't know what to say, and Nathan was ready to swing if she said anything negative to his kid. There was a tense silence, Riley pulled her blanket and stuffed rabbit closer to her, looking unsure.

"Do you want a hug? You look sad." Riley pattered slowly up to the woman, stopping at her feet and looking up at the much taller adult who had given birth to her. Tugging on her sweatpants gently, looking for a connection. It broke Nathan's heart, knowing Riley would never get that. At least not with Juliette.

"I'm not your mommy anymore." With that Juliette turned on her heel and left. Slamming the front door behind her.

"Daddy?" Riley, with tears in her eyes looked to the man who was instantly there. Picking her up and holding her to him, her tears dampening the shoulder of his t-shirt. "Where did mommy go?"

"I don't know baby. I don't know." With one last look over his shoulder to Bill and Jo, the couple grinning sadly at the father-daughter pair. Nathan doing his best to not shake in anger. Juliette was gone for now, he had to focus on Riley. Make sure she was okay. And so, he took his daughter back up to her room and three bedtime stories, a lullaby, and a forehead kiss later she was back down and snoring softly. Hair sprawled crazily behind her, her favorite dino pj's on, blanket and rabbit next to her.

Nathan's love-filled gaze was like honey, his fingers petting her hair back from her face. When Juliette told him she was pregnant he had been terrified, convinced she was lying. He didn't take it well. He was still in his PhD program, had just been offered a huge grant to keep working on his already existing research, he couldn't see himself able to have a kid without throwing everything he had been working towards his whole life away.

Which wasn't true, he had to defer the grant for a year, finished out that year at school and then dropped out of the PhD program, it killed him, but he couldn't go to school back home in Arkansas if Juliette refused to leave Oklahoma. He may not have wanted the kid in the first place but he was raised right and was going to step up however he had to.

He wanted to be there for Juliette as she carried the baby, support her. She was miserable, she lost close to twenty pounds due to morning sickness and had to be on bed rest for months. It wasn't fun and she was horrible every minute of it. Michelle and him had to walk on eggshells every second of every day, and even then they still would set her off someway somehow. They let it slide during the pregnancy because it was understandable, she was constantly uncomfortable, couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't walk. But after Riley was born the behavior stayed, and only got worse as Riley struggled to breast feed and Juliette struggled to bond with her baby.

The connection with Nathan and Riley had been immediate though and that pissed Juliette off, it was just one more person who hadn't chosen her first. That, in her mind, didn't want her. Nathan suggested therapy but was met with a scoff and another argument about her being scared he was trying to take Riley away from her by claiming she was crazy, which was so not the case.

He could still remember when he first held Riley in the hospital, how perfect she was in every way, and still is. He hadn't ever felt the kind of love he did when he first laid eyes on his daughter, her little fingers wrapped around his pointer finger and his entire heart. She was an easy kid, at least with him. Juliette never seemed to figure out how to calm Riley down when she was fussy or upset, and would get frustrated with her quickly, yelling, berating. Nathan had walked in one time when Riley had gotten a fever and needed one of them up with her at all times, he could have sworn Juliette was about to shake the, then months old Riley, who had been wailing for what felt like hours that night.

He stopped trusting her to be alone with Riley at that moment in time. In the back of his mind he always knew Juliette wasn't going to stick around, she never did when things got hard. Fact of the matter was this had happened before, multiple times, Nathan just hoped that one day Riley wouldn't remember any of this. Or the hurtful words her mom said to her that night.

~~*~~

#tyler owens #twisters #twisters movie #twisters fanfic #Tyler x ofc #tyler owens fanfiction #Tyler Owens fanfic #angst #hurt/comfort #cowboy #glen powell #hot brisket summer #aint no love in oklahoma #trauma #trauma recovery #forgiveness #tornadoes #love

26 notes · View notes