#so i was ready to defend this until. the ending
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Here is the link.
https://www.fightforthefuture.org/actions/no-on-hr9495
This may not be a 'the site is going down, man the lifeboats' situation, but it IS a situation where your call can make a huge difference, and help to prevent this being a problem. AO3 is important to a lot of people here, but this bill stands to hurt a lot of other nonprofits as well. You know who else is a nonprofit that I can pretty much guarantee they'll go after? Planned Parenthood. There's also TONS of resources for mental health, low-cost food, facilities that help with paying staple bills (electric, water, etc), many homeless shelters, and so on that you KNOW republicans would love to get rid of so their precious money isn't going to help The Lazy Slacking Poor People Stealing All Their Jobs or whatever nonsense they come up with to justify being horrible. AO3 won't be the only place under threat, any place that might help people the far right doesn't like would make an excellent target. And you can fight for all of them at once by calling and encouraging your politicians to strike this bill down.
When you use the site, this is the script they will provide you, but they won't do this until they're on the line. I KNOW some of us have trouble being ready to make phone calls, and need a script to study up front, so I'm moving it here, but you will want to go to the site. They'll connect you automatically to your rep, you don't even have to look up the rep or number yourself.
âI am calling to urge my representative to vote no on H.R. 9495 today. This is a dangerous bill would give the Trump administration unilateral power to label any non-profit as terrorist supporting and shut it down without due process. I am calling on my representative to defend civil rights organizations and oppose this bill. Thank you.â
Look, we're going to be stuck with Trump come Jan 6th, that's already been decided unless the universe makes an executive decision about his lifespan. What you, and anyone you can possibly reach, is responsible for, is fighting tooth and nail against everything he wants to do. In this instance, it's making a phone call. Do not wait, do not put it off, do not tell yourself you'll do it later so you can forget until it's too late.
This is what resistance looks like today. Resist.
EDIT: So, I called at the end of writing this, and apparently this is for last thursday, as it went to vote. It passed the house, so that's. Not great. Calling did, according to the message I got, flip a lot of votes, but not enough to strike it down. Time to call your senate reps instead.
Readers, make sure you have all your favourite Ao3 fics downloaded.
Writers, make sure you have copies of all the fics you have posted on Ao3.
I donât want to be alarming, but things could get really bad really fast. OTW shared this today on Twitter, and I'm a bit worried about it đ
Ao3 is a non-profit organisation. If they have to start paying taxes, I have no idea what will happen.
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 20
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19
Chrissy is willing to admit that when Steve doesnât call her after his date, she panics. If her mom wasnât such a light sleeper, she wouldâve snuck out to check up on him. But instead, she wallows, dozing on the couch, not even able to call Jeff to bitch because what if Steve chooses that moment to call?
So, she can admit, when he finally calls a few minutes after seven in the morning, sheâs a little short with him.
âFinally, Steven,â she hisses into the phone, keeping her voice quiet so as not to alert her mother to their conversation. âI thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere!â
âSorry, sorry!â he rushes out, sounding contrite. âWe sort of fell asleep.â
Chrissy gasps, a smile slowly spreading on her face as the implications set in. âYou guys slept together?â she demands gleefully.
âWe didnât have sex!â he shouts, and sheâs glad, for the first time, that his parents are so absent from his everyday life. âWe just fell asleep!â
Sheâs still smiling, twirling the phone cord round and round her fingers. âDoes that mean it went well?â she wheedles.
She doesnât think that Eddie would suddenly realize heâs straight and renege on the date, not really, but Steve had, and she canât get the terrified tone of his voice out of her head.
âWellââ he drawls, leaving her on tenterhooks for a few seconds more. âHe took me to see some shitty horror movie.â
âOh my god,â she whispers, full-on grinning now. âWhat a stereotypical move.â
âYeah, thatâs what I thought,â he replies so wryly that she can almost see the way his eyes must be rolling. âExcept he barely talked to me the whole time and didnât even try to hold my hand.â
âNo!â
âAnd then he took me into the woods like some sort of serial killer, and then tried to kiss me so abruptly that my lip split a little.â
âNo!â she shrieks with laughter before catching herself and slapping a palm over her own mouth as Steveâs own amused chuckle filters through the phone line. âAnd you still spent the night?â
âHe was nervous!â Steve defended. âAnd besides, the second kiss was much better.â
âYour boyâs a fast learner, huh?â
Steve hums, and she wishes he was here with her, so she could see the dopey grin that must be on his face as he says, âyeah,â with a dreamy sigh. âHe took me stargazing.â
Chrissy coos, canât help it, not when this whole thingâs been building for so long now. Not when thereâs been an edge of fear to everything Steveâs said for months. He deserves something nice for once.
âAnd youâre going out again?â
âOh, definitely,â he replies, and a knot of fear sheâs had tucked beneath her sternum loosens.
He sounds excited, happy, hopeful. If Eddie does anything to jeopardize this, Chrissy will be digging a very deep hole and tossing him into it. Sheâs got a shovel, and the muscle strength built up from years of cheerâsheâll manage just fine.
So, when Eddie walks up to her in the cafeteria in some sort of fucked up parallel to that first time and bends at the waist in a showy bow, hand outstretched as he asks, âa word, madam?â sheâs ready to kill him.
But, when she glances at Steve at her side, his ears are red, and heâs smiling up at Eddie from beneath his lashes. And when she looks back toward Eddie she catches the tail-end of a wink that has Steve sputtering.
Even Jason doesnât protest from the other side of the table where heâs quietly seething.
So, she takes his hand and follows him out of the cafeteria.
Eddie doesnât seem to know where heâs going, as he walks through the halls, peering into nooks and crannies until he finds a corner he deems suitably vacant enough. He flops down, legs outstretched in front of him, uncaring of the dirt caking the floor.
He pats the spot next to him, smiling up at her, so she slides down the wall and crouches beside him, unwilling to let her bare legs touch the floor.
Eddie leans away from the wall and wrestles his jacket off before placing it on the floor in front of Chrissy. Gratefully, she sits atop it, crossing her legs to keep them safe. She turns her body so sheâs facing Eddie dead on, and he follows her lead.
When he doesnât say anything, she breaks the silence with a quiet, âI hope you know that if you hurt my friend, Iâll kill you.â
âI have no doubt, Lady Cunningham,â Eddie replies, drawing an X across his heart with his finger. âBut, Iâm not here to talk about Steve.â
âThenâwhat?â
Heâs grimacing now, no longer meeting her eyes as he fiddles with his rings, one of his fingers bizarrely missing its usual adornment. âWeâre friends, right?â he asks hesitantly, like heâs choosing each word with deliberate care.
âOf course,â she replies, eyes trained on the little furrow between his brows. Heâs picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans, further fraying the edges. âWhy would you ask that?â
He sighs, slumping into himself in a way that makes him look small. âIâm glad Iâm here, okay?â he asks, not waiting for her to answer before he continues. âSteveâs great, and I wouldnât trade that for anything. But, you still lied to meâ"
"We never lied to you," she cuts in, and he waves his hand in assent.
"Yeah, yeah, but you all like, conspired behind my back, and that feelsâŠâ
âShitty,â she continues for him when he seems to lose his words.
âYeah! Shitty, it feels shitty that you were all talking about me behind my back all so you could keep this from me."
Chrissy sighs. Sheâd known theyâd have to talk about it eventuallyâclear all this stale air so they could move onâbut it doesnât make it any less uncomfortable. But, heâs right; no matter their intentions, theyâd all made a mess of things. Sheâd known that even as sheâd been in the thick of it.
So, she starts where these things should always start, and looks him dead in the eye as she says, âIâm sorry.â
He finally looks up, seeming almost surprised. âJust like that?â
âYes, Eddie, just like that,â she replies, maintaining eye contact even as her gut squirms. âWe were just trying to protect each other, but that doesnât mean it was the right choice.â
His eyes are wide, still shocked, and she wonders, something uncomfortably close to pity bubbling up within her, if heâs not used to receiving apologies at all.
âBoth of you?â he asks.
Chrissy averts her gaze, mouth twisting up. âYou know how Steve said Jason has been kind of stalkery?â she asks, watching Eddie nod out of the corner of her eye before she continues. âWell, it was worse before. He kept coming to my house and cornering me at school, and I just wanted to move on.â
It was more than that, though. She still remembers the way fear crept down her spine as cold sweat when sheâd opened her door to Jason smiling at her like theyâd never broken up, the way her throat had closed up when heâd scooted far too close to her side at the lunch table.
The way he kept cornering her in the hallway when no one was around to witness it.Â
âSo, when I found Steve trying to write that first letter, I struck a deal,â she continues. She feels bad about that, even now, even still. âHeâd be my boyfriend, and Iâd help him with the letters.â
She finally turns back to Eddie, braced for, what? Condemnation? But heâs squinting at her like sheâs a puzzle heâs trying to crack as he says, âyou totally would have helped him anyway,â with so much conviction that it warms her.Â
âOh, definitely.â
Heâs still looking at her, but heâs smiling at her, eyes warmer than sheâs ever seen them.Â
âAlright, I forgive you,â Eddie says, like itâs easy.
Itâs too easy.Â
âJust because we had reasons doesnât mean it was fair to you,â she replies, steel in her voice as she squares her shoulders and looks at him dead on. âIt doesnât mean you werenât hurt,â she finishes, reaching out to pat his knee.
He doesnât jerk away, just looks at her hand on his knee with a peculiar smile on his face. âYou know there was a time when you touching me like that wouldâve sent me into a tizzy,â he says, still looking down at her hand.
âAnd now?â
âNothing,â he replies, shrugging. âIt was never you, Chrissy Cunnigham.â
âYou either, Eddie Munson,â she replies, matching his smile as she smacks his hand once before withdrawing. âNow is that it, or was there something else you needed?â
He looks away, cheeks darkening to a blotchy red, sheâs almost worried heâll faint. âI, uh, well, the jacket?â
She thinks of Eddieâs jacket beneath her first, but thatâs not where heâs looking. His eyes are planted firmly on the sleeve of Steveâs letterman with a sort of longing thatâs almost funny in its intensity.
She doesnât ask any follow up questionsâif he wants the jacket, he can have the jacket. After all, itâs Steveâs no matter how attached to it sheâs become, and Steve had looked up at him with the sappiest look sheâs ever seen on his face.
Sheâd do more than give up his letterman to keep him happy.
Still, it feels strange when she pulls it off her back. A shiver runs through herâshe feels almost naked without its familiar weight.Â
Since that first day in the library, itâs been her shield against Jasonâs pushy advances, and her reminder that, no matter what happens, sheâd still have Steve.Â
But, Jasonâs backed off, and everywhere she turns, she sees her people: Steve, yes, but Jeff, and Eddie, and the Hellfire boysâeven Robin. Her lifeâs full to bursting in a way that itâs never been before.Â
Chrissy will miss it, but she doesnât need it anymore. Besides, she knows where Steve keeps his spare key, and sheâs not above stealing something else from his closet.Â
âJeffâs going to be sad,â she says, patting the bundled fabric in her arms like itâs a favored family pet, feeling strangely choked up. âHe really liked it.â
Eddie grimaces down at it and asks, âdo I need to get this thing dry cleaned?â
Chrissy throws her head back and laughs. âNo, but if you wouldâve waited a few more days, you might have.â
He makes a gagging noise, but when she holds it out for him, he readily takes it, even if he doesnât put it on. She wonders if itâs fear of homophobes or the thought of her and Jeffâs bodily fluids that stops him. Sheâs polite enough not to ask, even as Eddie says, âWait, is it you wearing it or him that Jeff likes?â
She opens her mouth to reply, ready to offer up a vague âboth,â but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts her off, talking quickly like heâs afraid of what she might say. âWait, donât tell me. I really, really donât need to know.â
Chrissy springs to her feet and picks Eddieâs own leather jacket up off the floor and sliding it on. Itâs even baggier than Steveâs was on her, clearly designed for layering. âIâm borrowing this,â she says, turning her back on him and making her way toward her next class just as the warning bell rings. âItâs cold today.â
âDonât do any weird sex things with it!â Eddie calls.
She laughs again, making a point to neither confirm nor deny her intentions no matter what he yells after her retreating back.
When Jeff slides into her passenger seat after school, he quirks a brow at her new look, and asks, âthat Eddieâs?â as he buckles his seatbelt.
âHe wanted Steveâs,â she says, reaching out to pat his knee consolingly.
âIâm going to miss that jacket,â Jeff sighs, looking genuinely forlorn for a second before he gets a particular gleam in his eye that Chrissyâs becoming increasingly familiar with. âYou knowââ
âEddie requested that we donât âdo any weird sex thingsâ with his jacket,â she cuts in, putting her car in reverse and slowly backing out of the spot.
Jeff groans like heâd been shot, and throws his head back into the headrest. She reaches out to dig her fingernails into his knee, just this side of too-hard so his groan shifts into a hiss.
âI know, baby,â she says, smiling sweetly at him as they pull away from the school. âBut, Iâll get your mind off it in no time.â
Jeff gulps, and doesnât utter another complaint for the rest of the night.
***
Robin watches Chrissy follow Eddie out of the cafeteria. Even after the door closes behind them, she keeps staring, wanting desperately to know what theyâre talking about. This might have all started because of her crush on Chrissy, but Robinâs nosy at heart, so even as the flames of her crush burn down to embers, she wants to know.
Steve had called her on Saturday, spilling all the details of what sounded like a truly horrible date as if it was some sort of fairy tale while Robin cackled in his ear. But heâd sounded buoyant with exhilaration, and all Robin had been able to think about was that heâs like her and heâs happy.
Maybe thereâs hope for her, too.
Robinâs broken out of her reverie by a shoulder bumping into hers. âShould we help him?â Vickie whispers, and it takes Robin a minute to snap her eyes away from her vibrant green eyes to follow her gaze over to Steve.
All the losers heâs still pretending to be friends are jeering at him, Tommy H. going so far as to slip into Chrissyâs vacant seat so he can jostle Steve around with a decidedly unfriendly look on his face while Steve picks halfheartedly at his lunch.
Robinâs out of her seat before she can even think about it, palms slapping noisily on the table as she calls. âHarrington!â Steve perks up, metaphorical tail wagging as he meets her eyes from across the room. âCome help me win a bet!â
Heâs up and out of his seat in a matter of seconds, leaving the remains of his lunch abandoned on his table as he trots over, slipping into the empty seat across from her while all the other band kids look at him like heâs got the plague.
âWhatâs the bet?â he asks, looking far more relaxed already than he had while surrounded by his supposed friends.
Robin kicks him under the table as she replies, âthe bet was whether youâd come when youâre called.â
âOh, hardy har har,â he mocks, kicking her right back until she links both her feet around his ankle and yanks him so he damn near falls off his seat.
âPoor little puppy,â she coos, reaching across the table to pat his head while he bats her hand away.
Vickieâs laughing from beside her; it rings through Robinâs ears like church bells. She gets stuck, staring at the pink of her cheeks, the red of her hair, the mirth in her emerald green eyes, hand still outstretched toward Steveâs hair.
He kicks her again, and she snatches her hand back, grateful for the intervention until she catches sight of the knowing look Steveâs shooting her. In retaliation, she grabs one of her carrot sticks and tries to shove it down his throat.
âNot a word, Harrington, or weâre through,â she hisses, finally succeeding in shoving the carrot into his mouth.
âYou guys are so funny,â Vickie says, still laughing.
Steve smiles, carrot sticking out of his mouth like itâs a cigar until he bites into it with a snap, seeming oddly satisfied.
Chrissy and Eddie donât come back, and by the time lunch is over, the rest of the band kids have finally stopped sitting there like scared lemmings, waiting for King Steve Harrington to attack. Sheâs sure theyâll soon learn what Robin already knows: the king is dead, long live the king.
She loves him so much, itâs almost stupid.
âSo, Steve Harrington, huh?â Vickie asks, inexplicably walking out of the cafeteria with her even though Robin knows for a fact her class is on the opposite side of the school.
âI mean, yeah?â Robin replies, feeling her face heat from the inside out. âHeâs just like, not what I was thinking at all, and maybe the best friend Iâve ever had, which is crazyâitâs crazy, because itâs Steve Harrington, right?â Her hands, she realizes with horror, are miming an explosion above her head while her mouth makes a weird, crackling explosion sound. âWho wouldâve guessed?â
When she finally gets her mouth flapping under control, Vickieâs smiling at her, walking close enough that the sleeve of her sweater brushes against Robinâs bare arm.
âI donât know, I always thought he seemed nice.â
Robinâs nodding along like one of those bobble head hula girls that boys are always putting in their cars, even though Steve Harrington isnât nice. Heâs an unmitigated bitch with a sacrificial streak a mile wide, but heâs not nice.
âHeâs like a stray that I let into my house one time, and then my mom fed him, so now he keeps following me home,â her mouth says.
Vickieâs mouth laughs in return, so maybe itâs not all that bad.
Robinâs mind replays the angelic sound as she walks into her class, waving goodbye to Vickie as the other girl rushes away in a mad dash to make it on time to her next class.
God, Steveâs going to be such a bitch about this.
 ***
After Eddieâs talk with Chrissy, things shift.
Steve doesnât sit with the jocks at all anymore. He and Chrissy, still joined at the hip like they really are dating, shift back and forth between the band geeks and the hellfire tables at lunch on Tuesday, prompting hushed whispers to filter through the entire cafeteria.
For his part, all Gareth says is, âdoes this mean you twoâs weird feud over Chrissy is finally over?â
Jeff snorts chocolate milk out of his nose while Eddie laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bench entirely, only staying upright because Steve props him up.
âWhat?â Gareth demands, tearing into his chicken strips with a viciousness that betrays his ire.
âTheyâll tell you when youâre older,â Doug replies despite having no idea himself.
Eddie loves his friends so fucking much.
By Wednesday, a clearly fed up Robin frog-marches the pair of them to the Hellfire table and plops down beside them.
âMunson, I canât do this split custody thing anymore,â she says, making the red-head thatâd followed her over giggle. âTheyâre too much of a handful.â
âOr maybe even two handfuls,â Steve replies, across the table at her like heâs not playing the most overt game of footsie right below it.
âDonât be gross, dingus,â she scoffs, and Eddieâs mind goes galloping off with thoughts he shouldnât be having in a room full of teenagers just waiting to push someone a few more rungs down the ladder.
âAre you guys coming back to Hellfire?â Gareth asks, clearly unable to stand not knowing whatâs going on a second longer.
Steve looks at Eddie, brown eyes devastating beneath his lashes. âIâd like to.â
Eddie opens his mouth, ready to grovel at Steveâs feet to get him to come, to get him to keep looking at him like that, but then Robin cuts in with a sly, âyou know this means youâll have to come to Steveâs basketball games,â and he slams his mouth shut.
Steve grins, all seduction dropping off his face as he reaches across the table to give Robin a high five like theyâre already on the fucking court. She slaps his palm hard enough that the sound of skin on skin damn-near shatters the sound barrier.
âWe can sit together,â Jeff says, but heâs not even looking at Eddie, eyes trained on Chrissyâs blushing face. âItâll be fun.â
Eddie groans and lets gravity overtake him, dropping his head to the table so suddenly that it would have hurt if Steve hadnât put his palm over the spot just in time. Eddie turns his face so he can glare up at the other boy, but Steve looks so hopeful and excited that he has to look away again, burying his face into Steveâs palm.
âFine, Iâll go,â he drawls, lips brushing against Steveâs hand with each word.
âWhat the hell is happening?â Gareth demands.
Much to his dismay, no one replies.
Things slide back to normal after thatâChrissy and Steve showing up to band practice and hellfire and lunch like nothing had ever come between them. But, itâs better now because Steve knocks their feet together beneath tables, and lets his hands settle on knees and stares just a little too long at Eddieâs lips.
Itâs driving him crazy; he wants to reach out and touch, reach out and take.
But thatâs not something thatâs allowed. Boys are born in their own, invisible bubbles to keep them from touching other boys. Eddie doesnât know how he never noticed it before, but he wants to shatter it like glass, let it cut up his feet if it means he can brush his lips against Steveâs.
There are all these rules left unwritten, but flung at their feet like slurs: donât stand too close, donât look too long, donât dare to touch.
He wants to, though, thinks maybe in the confines of Garethâs garage and behind the closed doors of the drama room he could, and it would be safe.
But they live in Hawkins, Indiana, and heâd like to live long enough to get the hell out of here.
So he lets their feet tangle beneath tables and doesnât lean across them to have a taste, no matter how often Steve licks his lips.
Friday canât come soon enough.
***
Robinâs been twitchy for days by the time she pulls Steve into their bathroom stall. He follows her dutifully, only laughing a little as she pulls a towel out of her backpack and lays it down before sitting on the floor.
âYou plan this, Birdie?â he asks, settling across from her, the towel beneath them insulating him from the cold thatâs seeping up from the floor.
Robinâs face turns a blotchy red like a blood vessel burst and dispersed beneath her skin. âBoobies,â she blurts, staring at him with beseeching eyes before she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.
Steve nods, his attempt at sage wisdom undercut by the way he has to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her. âBoobies, yes,â he chokes out. âIâve, uh, heard of them.â
Thatâs all it takes for Robin to kick out at him. When her foot gets dangerously close to his crotch, Steve grabs her ankle and cradles her foot in his lap, rubbing the bone.
âDonât make fun of me!â she whines, still trying to kick him.
âOkay, okay!â he cries out, chuckling as he holds onto her leg for dear life. âSorry, justâwhatâs this about boobies?â
âStop saying boobies!â
Steve uses his free hand to lock up his mouth and toss the invisible key into the toilet, smiling as the blush on Robinâs cheeks creeps up her nose and onto her forehead until she resembles an especially square tomato.
âVickieââ
And Steve canât help it, he really, really canât. âHas nice boobies?â he cuts in, already grabbing at both her legs to stop her jackrabbiting feet from finally landing a blow to his balls.
âI hate you!â Robin shrieks, but even sheâs laughing now as she writhes atop the towel, scrunching it as she earth-worm-inches closer to him so she can slap at his ribs while heâs defenseless. âSteve Harrington, youâre the worst thing that ever happened to me!â
She tries to say it with conviction, but Steveâs hands have crept beneath her crew socks, and his fingers are tickling against the inside arch of her foot, so her words come out more as shaky exhalations of laughter. He wiggles his fingers as she squirms away, kicking out with such reckless abandon that one of her feet breaks free and kicks him far too high on his inner thigh for comfort.
âGet your boy cooties off me!â she demands, and he does, pulling his hands out of her socks as she backs away until sheâs leaning against the opposite side of the wall again, pouting at him. âYouâre the worst.â
âYeah, yeah,â he replies, feeling lighter than air. âNow tell me about Vickieâs girl cooties.â
Robin smiles bashfully, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. âVickie doesnât have cooties,â Robin replies, gaze distant. She looks wistful, enamored, hopeful. âShe walked me to class the other day, even though I know it made her late.â
âYeah?â Steve prompts, helpless to do anything but to smile back.
âYeah,â she replies. âAnd maybe itâll be like Chrissy again, you know? But you and EddieâŠâ Robin kicks out at him again, nudging her foot into his and then leaving it there, their soles pressed together. âMaybe thereâs more of us out there than I thought.â
âYeah,â Steve breathes, absolutely in love with brave, hopeful, honest Robin, here in this stall, in this moment. âMaybe there are.â
They smile at each other, two queer kids in the bathroom together, seeing themselves in each other, again, and again, and again. Steve hopes theyâll always be like this, here, on the bathroom floor, finding hope in each otherâs smiles. He has Chrissy, and Jeff, and Eddie now, too. But, Robin will always be the first person who looked at him and made him feel seen.
âWe should get married,â he says, not thinking about it before it comes out of his mouth and hangs in the air between them, making Robinâs eyes bug out of her skull. âJust think about it! Eddie and I canât get married, and neither can you and Vickieââ
âYouâve literally gone out with the guy once, and we donât even know if Vickie likes girls yetââ
ââbut we could totally just marry each other instead!â
The silence of the bathroom rings once Steveâs declaration is out there. Robin swallows, throat bobbing, eyes wide enough that Steve can see the little red veins near the back. Suddenly, Steve wonders if heâs stepped over some line he didnât even know was there.
Before he can spiral too far, Robin launches herself across the space between them, knees bracketing Steveâs hips as she leans over and bites his shoulder, hard.
âOw, Robin!â
âYouâre insane, Dingus, you know that?â she asks, moving away from his shoulder to plant a kind of wet kiss against his forehead. âIâm sixteen, and youâre proposing in the boyâs bathroom.â
She rubs her hand against his head, likely fucking his hair up beyond repair, but he doesnât even care because she kisses him again, this time on the top of his head.
âI meant like, later?â Steve says shyly.
Heâs always fallen hard and fast, knows that about himself. Itâs a fundamental law of the universe: gravity makes things fall down, the earthâs always spinning on an axis, and Steve Harrington puts his whole heart into people who donât always give it back.
But Robinâs on his lap, kissing his head, and leaking whatâs either snot or tears into his hair. âAlright,â she warbles, sounding embarrassingly soggy. âWhen I get a girlfriend, we can just be permanent beards for each other.â
Steve puts his arms around her and hugs her tight, mashing his face awkwardly into her neck as she laughs. âGrow old in separate bedrooms,â he replies.
âGotta keep our cooties separate,â she says, like sheâs not currently dripping on him on the floor of the boyâs grimy bathroom.
He just squeezes her tighter and gives her a little shake, like a dog with its favorite toy. âTell me about Vickie,â he demands, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you when it comes from his mouth.
âOkay,â she replies, and it sounds a lot like I love you, too.
#koko's steddie secret admirer au#steddie#my fic#me in a steddie fic: but what if robin and steve get married#also shoutout to gareth for now being the oblivious one
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Changed Woman - Chris Sturniolo
Babydaddy!Chris - Positive - Mama Pairings - Babydaddy!Chris x fem!Reader Summary - Your babydaddy, Chris, comforts you after morning sickness continues to kick your ass. Warnings - established relationship, pregnancy, mentions of morning sickness, mentions of vomiting, sassy Nick, lil fluff Word Count - 1950 Authors Note - I knoww it's short but it would've been way too long if I didn't break it up. With that being said, another part will be out soon! I hope everyone enjoys! đ«¶đ» Also I made my own dividers, feel free to use! The own used in this post is also mineđ«Ł (not proofread yet) Masterlist Current Series - City of Love
Clutching the countertop in a death drip, you suck in a deep breath in an attempt to steady yourself. Recently hitting ten weeks a few days ago, your morning sickness had been kicking your ass ever since you found out you were pregnant. âMorningâ sickness was a horrible term because it lasted all day and night for you. Half of the things you ate your baby didnât agree with, even if you craved it for days on end. Throwing up sporadically throughout the day made your body exhausted and achy from all the heaving. Currently in the family bathroom of a local Chiliâs, you were trying your absolute hardest to pull yourself together, mainly because you were out to eat with Chris, Nick, and Matt.Â
Chris made you vow to keep it a secret until he was ready to tell them, but you knew time was ticking. With your small bump getting bigger by the day, the secret was getting harder to keep. You wore baggy clothes to keep the growing bump concealed but you could only do so much, you were a pro at hiding the fact you were running to the bathroom every 30 minutes to either pee or puke. The boys were starting to catch on, and both you and Chris knew it. There had been a few times where you stumbled out of bed in the middle of the night, rushing the bathroom the boys shared to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet, forgetting to shut the door behind you which gave Matt the perfect view when heâd walk out of his bedroom. Matt would rush to Chrisâs room every time, waking him up to tell him what was going on, but heâd never ask questions, always assuming you were just sick. Nick was too observant, when he noticed your sense of fashion went out the window, he began to ask questions and make teasing comments - âwell donât you look bummy today,â and âwhyâre always in one of Chrisâs hoodies? You have one on like every day.â On most occasions, Chris would be by your side to defend you by saying a quick-witted comeback like - âMy girlfriend canât wear my hoodies?â or âso what? Sheâs comfy.â Other times, you were left to defend yourself all by your lonesome, whether Chris wasnât there or just wasnât paying attention.
A light knock on the bathroom door snaps you back into reality. âJust a minute,â you manage to call out. âItâs me,â the familiar voice echoes from the other side of the door. As you recognize the voice, you reach a hand out to the door, unlocking it to let him in. Chris gently pushes it open, stepping inside of the family restroom with you and closing the door behind him, âyou okay?â
Looking up at your boyfriend, you see a sympathetic look engraved into his face. He had been worried about you, âno way pregnancy made a woman throw up this much,â is what he thought each time he saw you scurrying to the bathroom. Chris did his best to help out where you needed it, holding your hair, rubbing your back, and always having a water bottle in hand. He couldnât help but feel like it wasnât enough, like it was all his fault. It was starting to take a toll on him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he broke down to his brothers, telling them you were carrying his baby.Â
When Nick and Matt started asking questions, he started making up excuses and little white lies to cover both of your asses. Lying to the two people he had always been closest to made him feel like the worst person in the world, but he knew the time wasnât right. Right before he left the dinner table to check on you, Matt asked if you were throwing up again, making it obvious what Chrisâs plans were. Whether he meant it in an innocent way or not, it didnât put Chrisâs mind at ease.Â
Sucking in another deep breath and nodding to your boyfriend, âmâfine, Chris. Baby didnât like the mozzarella sticks. I donât know, I had them last week and I kept them down just fine,â you ramble. Ten weeks in and you felt defeated and drained. Watching as Chris rubs a hand down your arm, pulling you in for a hug, âhey, itâs okay. Youâre not doing anything wrong, heâs just being indecisive,â making sure to give you the reassurance he always did. His calm demeanor soothes you almost immediately. You nod a few times and turn to the mirror, looking over yourself. You were pale as a vampire; it looked like all the life and energy was sucked out to you. If this is what pregnancy was like, this baby was for certain going to be your one and only.Â
Chris inches behind you, letting both hands fall to your waist. A nervous expression plastered on his face as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, âwe have to tell them soon.âÂ
Sucking in another scattered breath, you open your mouth to speak, âI know.â You let out a lengthy sigh, âtheyâre catching on.â Chris nods slowly, agreeing with you, âasking too many questions,â dipping his head down to plant a kiss on your temple. His hands smooth over your small bump, lifting your shirt up, âand heâs getting big. Canât keep him a secret much longer.âÂ
His words put you at ease, making a smile pull at your lips. Chris had been manifesting a baby boy ever since he found out. He only referred to the baby as he or him, never she or her. You wanted a girl as bad as he wanted a boy, so it pinched a nerve every time he mentioned it. Deep down, you didnât care what the gender of the baby was. As long as they were healthy, you would be over the moon, and you were sure Chris would be too. Regardless of the short amount of time you and Chris had been together, you knew your baby was made with so much love.Â
âYouâre gonna be real shitty when we find out it's a girl,â you poke at him. You can tell by the way he screws up his face that he doesnât agree with a single word you said. Bellowing out a laugh, âa girl wouldnât be bad,â you tell him, running your hands down his arms and pulling your shirt up further to expose more of your growing bump. He lets out a soft sigh, âI know. I just really want a mini me,â he muffles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. âWell, donât get your hopes up. We donât know yet,â you tell him before turning your attention to your reflection in the mirror. Your bump looked bigger than normal. It seemed like every time you raised your shirt to look in the mirror, your belly grew in size - kind of like Pinocchio and his nose.
âWe should tell them tonight,â you blurt out. Chris digs his head out of the crook of your neck, âtonight?âÂ
âYea, why not?â you beam, even though you dreaded the thought. His brothers could be a bit judgmental at times, especially Nick, who had no idea what a filter was. A lot of the time, heâd impulsively say the wrong thing, but heâd always feel bad and apologize later on. Itâs not that Nick didnât like you, he just didnât care to not be himself around you. Matt, on the other hand, didnât seem to give two fucks. He was happy for Chris and his intuition told him you were a perfect match for his brother. He was the main person Chris vented to which made Chris feel like he was keeping everything bottled up. He wasnât wrong. Chris lets his hands drop to his side, pinning his bottom lips between his teeth once again as he takes a step back, âI donât know, baby. I donât think tonight is a good idea.âÂ
âNuh-uh,â you grumble, âwhat happened to a few minutes ago when you were trying to convince me the time was right?â You spin around, wrapping your arms around his neck, and playfully narrowing your eyes at him, âweâre telling them tomorrow. No ifs, ands, or buts. I mean it, Chris!âÂ
âYes maâam,â he holds a hand up to his forehead, jokingly saluting you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips, âletâs get back out there, yeah?âÂ
You follow Chris back to the secluded booth Matt had picked out for the group. Going out to eat was out of the norm for the four of you, usually you guys would go through a drive thru, but Chris suggested it and didn't let up when everyone was opposed to the idea. He wanted to get you out of the house and if he was being honest, he wanted to butter up his brothers before he broke the news to them. Chris was nervous to tell them. Nervous was an understatement. He was so scared to tell them, he felt like telling his parents would be a piece of cake.
"Please don't tell me y'all were fucking in the bathroom," Nick spits out in a playful tone. You give him a funny face, scooting into the booth while Chris mimics your actions. He didn't find it that funny, though. Nick had been giving you shit over a lot of things, from your sudden change in style to the way you ran to the bathroom. Even though you all knew Nick loved to pick on you like the little sister he never had, your hormones were at an all-time high. Chris knew your waterworks were a ticking time bomb and you were ready to explode at any given opportunity. He had not been super attentive since you revealed your pregnancy to him, he had become really overprotective. Nick constantly picking on you didn't sit right with him, but he knew if he told his brothers that you were in the bathroom throwing up again, they'd ask questions. The last thing he had the patience for was more questions. He already had too many of his own.
The four of you sit together, chatting about numerous topics as the boys finish their food. The mozzarella sticks being the culprit of your sickness just a few moments ago, you didn't dare touch them. You had thought your reluctance to finish your meal had gone unnoticed, but the waitress came back to set the bill down, asking if you need a to-go box in the process. You give her a toothless smile as everyone turns their attention to you, "that'd be great. Thank you," you tell her sheepishly.
"You didn't finish your food?" Matt asks, still chewing his last bite as he sets a few twenties down on the table. The boys get up from the table, and you follow quickly behind. You shrug off Matt's question, "you guys eat too fast," pulling the excuse out of thin air, "and I was in the bathroom." Your comment earns a nudge from Chris, indicating he liked your comeback. He crouches down to your level, "good one," making sure to whisper so his brothers don't hear.
"She didn't order her henny margarita either," Nick points out as you guys walk to the nearby exit. His comment makes Matt come to a realization, "you do always order a henny margarita!"
"What can I say? I'm a changed woman," you shoot out playfully as Chris intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing lightly to let you know your response was valid.
đ·ïž - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @sweetshuga @thepubeburgler @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 (I think i got everyone. For some reason my tags weren't working in my last post?? Idk tumblr always acts weird to me đ« Let me know if anyone else wants added. Going to make an actual taglist post soon!)
© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. I do not wish to share my work.
#âĄâ§âË cheyenne's works#âĄâ§âË Babydaddy!Chris#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo
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Thoughts on Robin Lives?
sorry it took me a few days to get to this but i just read the last issue and. hm.
it honestly had me right until the end. i was on board. everyone hated last month's issue but i didnt have a problem it, and i was literally reading this newest issue like "okay... i see why people dont like it but i dont agree! im having fun!! i like it!!!!" then the last two pages happened and. what the fuck
i am a strong defender of elseworld characterizations being different than what i want in main universe. i saw a lot of people mad that jason had an obsession with joker in this story and i dont agree with that at all tbh! i liked it!!! i dont like it when red hood jason is obsessed with joker, but this is robin jason who watched joker murder his mother then beat him nearly to death like. two weeks ago. he is fresh off the ditf trauma in this story so i LOVED that he was trying to hunt down and kill the joker, then froze at the last minute last issue. i dont like it when red hood stories do that but THIS was good
and honestly i saw the screenshots of the panels of jason becoming joker out of context and i was STILL willing to hear the story out. like sure maybe if we really lean into the fact that hes so fucked up by the trauma of ditf straight into everything that happened in this story, i could be on board with him becoming joker jr. again, if the story is good i will accept so many things happening in elseworlds
but what the fuck was that!!! i was SO into the story and i was completely into the universe. the first moment that snapped me out was when bruce and the therapist got married?? for some reason???? that felt like such a random choice to me (and its very much a "there is a female character in this story so she has to fall in love with someone" situation) and i thought that was super weird and out of nowhere. but its a minor thing so i was willing to ignore it if the rest of it was good. but then the joker thing happened
many people are going to disagree with this but i think i would've liked the story overall if jason had become joker jr immediately after killing the joker. imo with this story the writer could've chosen two different paths, one where everything gets better so you can look at it and be like "awww jason could've been happy if he lived :(" OR one where everything is monumentally worse, and i would've been fine with either because once again, its an elseworld story so who cares. but i didnt like the fake out of "you think its gonna be better but its actually secretly WORSE đ" because it ended up just coming out of nowhere. like jason becomes the joker AFTER going through therapy and getting a degree and a job and a life?? why????? i would've been soooo much more interested if he was fresh off the trauma of killing joker right after everything that happened. like i said i knew that jason became joker bc i saw the panels, so when he ran away i thought he ran away to joker out, and i was kind of really into that idea. i thought it would've been a kind of cool elseworld story if jason becomes the joker right after everything that happened. but thats not how it worked out
it just. came from nowhere. there was no buildup. it was clear the writer wanted to like. make the reader think it would be happy, then pull the rug out at the last minute. and because of that it just became weird. like i wasnt upset as much as i was confused because like ?? why???? why did that happen how did that happen What happened. thats not a story or an ending. thats just a thing happening. again, if the story had just led down the path to jason becoming the joker i would've liked it sooo much more because at the very least there would've been a plot. but that was nothing!!!! i am a strong supporter of "bad" endings, but only when the story leads the way to the unhappy ending. that felt like angst just for the sake of angst. like what was the reason!
sorry i feel like im repeating myself a lot im just trying to wrap my head around this. basically to me the book's biggest crime wasnt the decision to make jason become joker, it was the fact that it didn't bother to create the path to jason becoming joker. i am willing to hear a story out but i cant forgive bad storytelling
#like im usually joining the war on elseworld mischaracterizations on the side of elseworld mischaracterizations#its why i was defending the boy wonder miniseries a few months ago and why im still defending rose in allwinter#if the story is interesting i can excuse any mischaracterization#so i was ready to defend this until. the ending#jason todd#dc
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thinking about how i was only in the hospital for a week bc i hated the staff so much i forgot to hate myself
#miles thots#tw suicide#actually what happened was i told the story of my coming out and expressed my anger at my mom for taking so long to be okay with my transne#in a group session and the nurse was so quick to defend my mom even saying she sounded like a good mom even after i told her it was the#biggest reason i wanted to die#and she was all âiâm sure she just didnât understandâ even though i said iâd sent her videos and links to articles and offered to explain#myself if she still didnât get it#this nurse made me feel so incredibly invalidated. i left group early and my roommate came to check on me (heâs also trans so he got it)#i was actually still actively suicidal when they released me but i hid it so well bc i couldnât stand to be in there any longer#my friends saved me more than that place did. they let me crash on their couches until i was ready to talk to my mom#also- in case anyone actually read this: my mom is wonderful and i love her and we have a very strong relationship now.#it took a lot of work to get here though and it doesnât change how i view what she did or how she made me feel in the past#but we have talked about all of it and iâve forgiven her. sheâs now my biggest supporter and i love her to the ends of the earth#so this story isnât me talking bad ab my mom- just the situation and the response i received#oh yeah also they violated hippa and i didnât realize it for about a year and while they had no right-#i also donât care enough to do anything ab it anymore lol#tw transphobia#< almost forgot that one
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unfathomable emotions after showering
also.. i hit tag limit on this, so watch out for a very long post if you hit read more on the tags! đš
#it is frustrating that overall it is fine for customers to use retail/service employees like punching bags. this guy will have no#repercussions for cussing me out beyond the pre-existing frustration that his order isn't ready because it was placed after our deadline#it is frustrating that you can't really defend yourself because 1) it takes too much time and there's too much else to do.#better to let them have the upper hand in their minds 2) they can take anything you saw and spin it against you in a review#like... đ i couldn't even get a word in against this guy. honestly i think he was using me as a stress toy because his kid is getting in#trouble for not having uniforms. which really sucksâ I understand and empathize with that! but to react in such a way is unacceptable#it's common sense that a mom and pop shop will not process your order until the next business day if you ordered outside of their business#hours. i had to explain the way this particular school's ordering system worked to this guy the last time he was in. i provided multiple#alternatives to contacting us that he never utilized. like.. he had the tools to understand everything and instead of using them he decided#to erupt. and because I'm the poor fuck that works the counterâ i got to be on the receiving end of this. i should know better than to be#upset about it (the eelness talking. everyone else was mad when he left) but. it's also fair to not want to be cussed out over something as#small as school uniforms! đ€š#and don't even get me started on school uniforms.. yes my entire job rn is selling them BUT oh my god. i hate them. they shouldn't be a#thing. especially when these schools cost an arm and a leg in admission + then the uniforms easily cost another#*$100. the entire practice seems evil to me but also it's the family business so. đ. the way these schools do it also undermines the entire#point of school uniforms which is. uniformity! đ€š i feel like the minute differences in brand and so forth and so on give kids easy ways to#compare each other and potentially bully each other. the differences in what people provide Could be distracting! if your kid is the only#one wearing a plaid jumper while everyone else has khaki bottoms onâ they're going to stand out!#so what pray tell is the point đ imo it's best to let kids have the freedom of self expression and show up to school however they'd like#in an appropriate way ofc. but i digress đ© this business is just. deeply frustrating + as if the work itself was not overwhelmingâ the#parents have to throw tantrums about it... I'm so tired! đ#and they insinuate you fuck around + or say you don't give a shit.. ma'am I've worked so much overtime this year + that's not even counting#the relentless shifts I've worked in my nightmares that occur every night. like.. literally the only thing i do is give a shit about your#order!! at the expense of my sleep and wellness lmao! I don't eat lunch and i barely hydrate because I'm constantly working#but it is thog mode.. thog don't care... đ it'd be funny if i didnt care either đ„Žđ#to sum up a long rant ig i entered the shower feeling very depressed and I've left angry đ€Ż but this is normal methinks#anyhow l + ratio + you work at your family's store + you work customer service + u trip over yourself when u talk etc etc etc đđ#one day i will blow that store up with every parent ever. it will be so funny đđđ©đ#sriracha.txt#negative cw
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We as a society need to appreciate nagumo more
#i cant believe how ive never seen ANYONE talk about him. ever#ive seen people talk about less relevant characters way more#no way baba is so much more popular than him#dont get me wrong i love baba so much but come on#nagumo has a lot of charm AND he didnt die or end up in prison forever!! thats way more than half the cast#also can we talk about how kiryu warmed up to and nagumo and the others to start considering himself part of the family and#call nagumo his brother. why does no one talk about that it warmed my heart so much it burned#when kiryu said âwhen we die at least we can go out together like brothersâ??#i was tearing up bc he was finally getting over nishiki and ready to find someone to fill that space for him#or at least thats how i saw it idc#i REALLY wish kiryu wrote letters to more than just daigo. nagumo deserved a letter. he was with kiryu in his supposed last adventure#anyway i will defend nagumo until i die idc#rant#yakuza#yakuza 6#nagumo
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"(blank) hates laios!" WRONG WRONG WRONG. SHUT THE FUCK UP
shuro is just as awkward as laios and it is made So clear he considers him a friend and likes him. he defends him when the canaries start talking shit and actively readies himself to physically fight them so they dont get to him.
namari also likes laios. she respects him as a leader and also defends him and readies to fight the canaries.
ive not actually seen anyone claim izutsumi hates laios, but a lot of ppl Are weird abt them. izutsumi and laios' relationship was rocky at the beginning. he struggled to figure out how to interact with her. but by the end, she actively seeks him out to talk with during the lead up to the feast. she hides behind him when falin wakes up. she has already realized shecan do what she wants and does not need to stick around, yet she does. she sleeps near him on the windowsill, waiting with him and marcille for falin to wake up. she has accepted him as part of her life and wants to keep him in it.
marcille does not hate laios. let me say this again.
Marcille Donato Does Not Hate Laios Touden.
marcille Loves him. in a platonic, familial sense. laios returns this just as readily. she yells at him. she whacks him. she tells him whats on her mind. she uses healing magic to ease his pain during the parasite fiasco. she reattaches his leg when he loses it. she teaches him magic. she lays her head on his corpse and cries before reviving him. she launches herself at him two times, when the canaries interrogate them and when he talks her down in the tower. he is a comforting presence to her. she trusts him, she cares about him, she worries about him, she imagines him as a big fluffy dog that loves and protects her. laios is her rock when falin is taken from them time and time again. and she tries to be his as well. she whole-heartedly, unconditionally, loves and trusts laios.
chilchuck does not hate laios. laios pays him his rates, no questions asked. laios trusts and respects chilchuck's job as a lockpick. laios does not see him as a child (at least, i cant think of an instance where he does so). chilchuck states, outright, he sees him as a friend and doesnt want to see him hurt. he actively worries about him as the falin situation gets worse. chilchuck respects laios. he shows almost 0 hesitation in helping get falin back, nor eating her by the end. he does not think of leaving him once, until he realizes he could lose him. chilchuck is cowardly with emotions and prefers to bottle things, so his first instinct was to bolt. he was angry because he was scared of watching someone he cares about destroy himself. laios is his Friend.
and holy shit. holy Fucking shit. kabru DOES NOT hate laios. kabru has the rockiest start known to man with him, and he Still helps him by occupying the canaries. he warns him about them. he hides the black magic from them just as shuro does. his whole Thing is trusting laios despite himself. kabru has his own baggage regarding other people, just like laios, yet he tries so hard to believe and trust this man. he Wants to. kabru is not very hopeful, but laios makes him Want to be. he states like 3 times he wants to be close to him and sees him as a friend. he stays through the entire feast!! the man who hates monsters, whose biggest trigger is monsters, actively, consciously, Willingly stayed through the entire monster meat feast. all to help his friend get his sister back. he could've left!! the feast was like an entire week!! yet he was there for every single day. he was one of the closest people to the door when falin awoke!! after reuniting with her brother, her friends, the people who knew her the most (plus senshi and izutsumi), the first person she greets is kabru!! he wants to be close to laios, he likes laios, laios is his friend and he cares for him, he wants to meet his sister!!! kabru fucking stays on the island with him as one of his closest, most trusted advisors when he becomes king!!!!! he wants to help him succeed!!!! he wants him to be happy!!!! laios is his friend!!!!!!!!
im just. people like laios!! laios is a nice guy! he is friendly and cares about people! he is weird, he doesn't understand most social cues, he oversteps boundaries, but they stay beside him, because they like him and he is their friend. he is their friend!!!!! friendship is not all sunshine and rainbows, relationships in general are not sunshine and rainbows. you will upset people, people will upset you, you will get into arguments, things will happen, but at the end of the day, the people close to you like you! they love you! they care for you! they want to work it out and get through it because they love you, but they will feel those emotions first! human relationships are complex and messy and life is complicated. even shows for toddlers know this.
if you truly believe any of these characters hate laios you are worse than a toddler. watch some fucking oobi or something. god. fuck.
take this
thanks
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi spoilers#laios touden#marcille donato#kabru of utaya#toshiro nakamoto#shuro dungeon meshi#izutsumi dungeon meshi#this goes out to that one stupid fucking post i kept seeing like. last week#how can you read the entire manga and still think 'oh wow i hate shuro or kabru or whatever'#like genuinely i dont think you actually know how to read#like you know how words come together to form a sentence#but if its not directly spelled out for you like a magic school house book then it flies over ur fuckin head#anyways im normal
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here forever
Bucky Barnes x ReaderÂ
Run-through: Dating a superhero was no joke. And as noble as Buckyâs job was, it was just as dangerous and unpredictable. Which is why ever since you and Bucky started dating, heâd been training you in his free time. Teaching you how to defend yourself if ever he wasnât around to protect you, or if ever his enemies came after you. Although you werenât perfect at combat yet, you were almost certain you could get out of a tricky situation if you ever found yourself in one. But you were soon proven wrong. And your only option was to hope and pray that Bucky finds you in time.Â
Themes: smut, fluff, mentions of kidnapping and death, boyfriend!bucky to the rescue, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mean!dom!bucky, aftercare, biker!bucky (except i made him wear a helmet because safety), mild daddy kink (nicknames only)
a/n: short, quick lil fic because I know weâre all hungry
It had been two hours since these strange men had so easily abducted you off the streets.Â
It was a regular day, you were leaving yoga class and were on your way to pick up a smoothie. A treat you always got yourself after each workout class. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except Buckyâs incessant messages asking about your location.Â
You knew you werenât supposed to let your guard down, not even on busy streets â one of the first lessons Bucky taught you just weeks after your first date with him. But you couldnât help looking down and frowning at your phone. Your bag, purse and phone in your hands. Always have your hands free when walking alone, even on busy streets â the second thing he taught you.Â
Always be ready. Always be ready. Always be fucking ready.Â
But you had messed up that morning. Buckyâs messages were starting to worry you. He had been away since last night, and as usual, never gave you too many details about his job. But all you knew was that before he left, heâd asked you to try and not go out if you could. Your apartment was safe. He had eyes all over that building. Cameras, security guards, it was the safest place you could be.Â
âWhere are you? Why arenât you home?â
Seconds later:Â
âI told you not to go out. Itâs not safe right now. Call me.âÂ
Then some missed calls which you couldnât answer because you were in class at the time. Then messages one after the other:Â
âGo straight home.âÂ
âIs your class over?âÂ
âGo home and wait for me. Donât open the door for anyone else.âÂ
âBaby Iâm so serious right now, go home.âÂ
And you were midway through typing an answer to reply to him. To tell him not to worry. To tell him that yes your class was over, and everything was okay and you would call him as soon as you got home.Â
But you never got the chance to reply to his messages.Â
It all happened too fast. One moment you were looking down, all your focus on your phone and boyfriend, and the next, you were being grabbed and shoved into a dark truck. You barely even got a scream out before the doors were shut and a tape sealed your mouth, ropes snaking around your wrists and ankles.Â
And just like that, in less than a full minute, you were taken.Â
And here you were now.Â
In the back of that same truck which had been driving for about two hours, maybe more. Getting further and further away from the city you lived in, and into more and more unknown areas.Â
Fuck! You had messed up.Â
You shouldâve checked your phone while you were still inside the building. You shouldnât have been texting on the streets. You shouldnât have let your guard down. Bucky had been saying for weeks that he suspected people had eyes on him, and consequently you because you two spent a lot of time together.Â
He was right of course. He always was. You shouldâve listened. You shouldâve stayed at home, at least until he got back later today.Â
A tear slid down your face, like it had been for the past hours. You silently cried, thinking about all the potential circumstances you could end up finding yourself in. You couldnât even tell who were the men who kidnapped you because they all wore masks and hadnât said a single word in the past hours.Â
They were armed. And the truck seemed bulletproof. And they kept driving. Nothing said about wanting a ransom, nothing about why they had taken you, or whether they were using you as bait to get Buckyâs attention. Surely they were.Â
And a few minutes later, when you heard the familiar roar of a familiar bike, you knew they had his full attention.Â
Bucky was here.Â
But they hadnât noticed yet. And you didnât want them to. So you tried to get all their attention on you by wiggling in the backseat, acting like you were trying to get more comfortable. The two armed men right in front of you just glanced at you and your tied limbs and let you be.Â
You noticed the guy in the passenger seat didnât even bother looking at you. The driver looked into the rearview mirror but quickly looked away and ahead.Â
They still hadnât heard the faint, steady roar of Buckyâs bike.Â
Perfect.Â
By the time Bucky would get close enough to attack, he would catch them by surprise. And it would be too late for them to react and defend themselves.Â
So you kept moving, grunting in annoyance extra loudly just to mask the sound of Buckyâs bike as it got closer and closerâÂ
A loud gunshot exploded near you. For a moment nothing made sense.Â
Then you realised the truck was no longer steady, it was tilted on one side. Bucky had shot one or more of the tires. You sighed in relief, while the men in the vehicle panicked. Muffled voices spoke all at once, one of them telling the driver to drive faster.Â
Another, one of the men who was armed in front of you, lowered the window and popped his head and gun out, trying to find whoever was around but it was too late.Â
You turned your head and managed to catch a glimpse of him through the rear windshield. Amongst the smoke and dirt flying, there he was. Mounted on his mean bike like a fierce general riding his beast into battle. Except this general wasnât backed by soldiers. He was alone.Â
But army or not, he was still Bucky Barnes. All black bike, black helmet, full biker gear, metal arm catching the sunlight. Guns strapped to his body. He looked like Death.Â
A sob shook your body as you ducked and hid under the seats as much as you could as Bucky rain down bullets like hellfire upon the vehicle. He knew it was bulletproof, but you were certain he was doing it just to get the men to use their weapons and waste their bullets on him as fast as possible.Â
The loud noises made it seem like your brain was vibrating, your heart was racing, and your ears were hurting with how loud the guns and shouts were. But Bucky was here, and all would be well now.Â
A few seconds later, the truck began zig-zagging. You assumed it must be because the driver got shot. More shouts and bullets later, the truck came to a sudden stop. Like it collided with something that was strong enough to stop it even at that speed.Â
But there was nothing on the empty streets you had been on. Nothing except⊠Bucky.Â
An eerie silence followed. Then footsteps. The men in the truck had all been shot you realised upon smelling the scent of blood and gunpowder.Â
You couldnât get yourself up, not with your limbs still tied but you tried your best. And you were barely up when you heard the sound of metal literally tearing apart. You managed to peek from the back seat and Bucky had torn off one of the doors. The entire door off the side of the truck.Â
You couldnât call for him, but you kicked the back of one of the seats hard enough to get his attention.Â
The moment his ocean blue eyes met your teary ones, you couldnât help but start crying. Hot, burning tears streaming down your face as Bucky almost tore apart the entire truck to get to you. The moment he grabbed you and pulled you out into the open air, it was only his arm around you keeping you up.Â
âIâve got you,â He whispered over and over again, âYouâre safe. Iâve got you, baby. Itâs okay, itâs okay. Iâm here.â He repeated continuously as he carefully peeled the tape off your lips and cupped your face in his hands, looking at you intently to look for injuries while he wiped your tears away. âAre you hurt?â He asked, looking more panicked and worried than ever. âBaby, answer me. Did they hurt you? Inject you with anything? Touch you?âÂ
You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to just be able to take a deep breath, now safe in his arms. Only when you went to wrap your shaky arms around him, he stopped you. Keeping you at armsâ length and away from him.Â
That worried, soft look in his eyes turned cold. Even under the afternoon sun, you shivered under his gaze.Â
âWhat the fuck did I tell you before I left, huh?â He snarled. âI told you to stay inside, donât leave the building. Didnât I say that?âÂ
You sniffled, nodding. âI just went to my weekly class, andâ,âÂ
He cut you off, hissing, âAnd look what happened!â He was almost screaming in your face, âYouâre so lucky I got here in time. Youâre so fucking lucky I have a tracker in that bag of yours. Otherwise it wouldâve taken me days to get to you! Days!âÂ
You trembled, knowing he was right. Bucky dealt with dangerous people. He knew why he asked you to be cautious.Â
Bucky leaned closer to you, looking down at you with no warmth. âThese arenât the villains you read about in your silly, little fucking books.â His voice sounded menacing, freezing. âThese are actual, dangerous people. They wouldnât have waited for you to charm your way out. They wouldâve killed you!â He yelled.Â
âIâm sorry,â You sobbed. âI was replying to your texts andâ,âÂ
âWe had a deal, didnât we?â He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him. âThat when I tell you itâs not safe out there, you stay put. You stay inside and wait for me.â He growled. âYou couldâve been killed today! And who would have had to live with that, huh? Who wouldâve had to live with the disappointment that he couldnât keep you safe? That he brought you into this shitty life and couldnât even keep you alive?â He bellowed. âWho wouldâve had to look your family in the eyes and tell them he lost you? Me! Thatâs who!âÂ
More tears, and a whimper escaped your lips. âIâm sorry.â You whispered. You had never seen this side of him. He let go of your face like it burned to touch you.Â
He looked around, at the torn apart truck. At the bodies. The bullets on the ground. He grimaced but didnât say anything. He reached into the truck and grabbed your things. Your bag and all that you had on you when you were taken. Your phone wasnât here though, they mustâve thrown it out onto the streets while they took you.Â
Bucky said, âWe need to get out of here. Come.âÂ
He didnât turn around to see if you were following, he knew you would. Once he got on his bike, he handed you his jacket and helmet. You put both on without questioning where you were going.Â
Once sat behind him, your arms hesitantly around his torso, he turned to the side and said, âCityâs not safe right now. Weâll spend the night at a motel nearby.âÂ
And that was all he said for the next few hours.Â
âÂ
By the time you two made it to the motel â which was much, much more decent and clean than you had imagined â the sun was already setting. The place was quiet. A few voices conversing here and there, ACs humming as ACs do, cars coming in and out frequently given there was a gas station nearby, and a burger joint on the other side of the street.Â
Bucky got you two a room for the night, and didnât say a word to you as he grabbed your hand and led you to the room.Â
It was a decent room. Bed, bedside tables, TV, sofas. The usual.Â
You didnât notice Bucky had packed a bag as well. You hadnât been paying much attention anyway. He placed his much bigger bag on the bed and pulled out a few things. Some belonging to you, you noticed. Toothbrush, soaps, clean clothes.Â
He handed a bunch of things to you and said, âGo shower.â He didnât even look at you as he spoke. Guess he was still angry at you.Â
You didnât argue. You just took the things and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in there for a good half an hour.Â
When you stepped out of the shower, feeling clean finally, you noticed Bucky wasnât in the room. And the weather outside had changed. You could hear the faint thunder approaching. Surely by tonight there would be a storm.Â
But where had Bucky gone?Â
You put your clothes away in your bag, and with no phone you had no choice but to turn the TV on. You got in bed, a few minutes into watching some random documentary when Bucky walked in with food.Â
You gave him a look, wondering if he would talk to you now. But all he said as he placed the bags filled with food on the bed was, âItâs none of your fancy green smoothies and healthy wraps, but itâll have to do for now. Iâm going to shower.âÂ
Then he disappeared.Â
You were still upset, but then hunger took over and you pawed at the bags like a raccoon. You found milkshakes, fries, and burgers. And you ate while you wondered how long Bucky would keep being angry at you.Â
You were halfway through your second burger when Bucky walked out of the shower. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet, dark hair pushed back, droplets of water still dripping down his chest and abs.Â
You swallowed your food before you choked, then looked away, acting as if the documentary on the TV was much more interesting to look at compared to your half naked boyfriend.Â
âAre you hurt anywhere?â He asked, and you noticed he was carrying a first-aid kit in his hands.Â
You shook your head.Â
âNothing? No scratches, nothing?â He asked again.Â
You shrugged, âJust a small cut. Itâll heal. Nothing serious.âÂ
He walked over to your side of the bed, and said, âShow me.âÂ
You didnât want to argue so you placed your food aside, lifted your shirt and showed him the minuscule cut on your ribs. âItâs notâ,âÂ
But he cut you off by placing the kit down and looking for some cotton and disinfectant.Â
It burned as he cleaned in and put a little bandaid over it. It hurt even more when he didnât kiss it after like he usually does whenever he tends to your cuts and wounds.Â
You didnât say a word though. And soon, you both finished your food in silence with only the TV and the approaching storm as noise in the background.Â
The thunder got louder and louder as you both got into bed. That weird silent treatment continued, and by now you were annoyed as well. Youâd admit, it was your fault for being so careless when heâd told you to be cautious. But didnât he see that you needed him now?Â
Couldnât he see you wanted to be held? And kissed? And comforted?Â
You frowned in the dark. The lights from outside came through the blinds and lit the room up a little bit. As did the lightning. You were the only one tossing and turning you noticed, Bucky was asleep it seemed.Â
But the thunder, the new bed, the fear and stress from earlier, it was all keeping you from falling asleep. Plus, it was a little embarrassing to admit, but you liked being held while you fell asleep. But Bucky wasnât even talking to you, and wrapping your own arms around yourself wasnât working.Â
Another hour went by. Now the heavy rain finally came, along with a proper thunder storm. And you couldnât take it anymore.Â
You turned to face Bucky and he had his eyes shut, facing you. Not a single item of clothing on his body, except for a thin sheet covering him from the waist down. You sighed, frowning a little in annoyance still but you couldnât help but scoot closer to him, seeking his warmth and embrace.Â
First you pressed into him, to see if he would stir or wake up. He didnât. So you got bolder and took his metal arm and placed it around you, waiting again. He didnât move. So you went to wrap your arms around him, and once you did, you heard his sleepy voice saying, âOh, whatâs this? Now you need me?âÂ
You froze, trying to see if you could pretend you were asleep already. He didnât buy it.Â
âI know youâre awake.âÂ
You sighed. âItâs the thunder.â You said, nuzzling his warm neck.Â
âAnd you need daddy to protect you now, little bunny?â He mocked. âBut when I try to tell you what to do to keep you safe you never listen.âÂ
You noticed he kept his arm around you, pulling you more into him even as he chided you. âIâm so sorry, Buck. It wonât happen again.âÂ
He hummed. âIt better not.âÂ
You were quiet for a second or two, then said, âYou were so mean to me earlier.âÂ
âI have to be.â He said sternly. âYou never listen. You donât take your training seriously, you think youâre ready to fight your way out, baby, but youâre not. All I asked you to do was not to leave that apartment until I got there. But you couldnât help but be a brat, could you?âÂ
You squirmed in shame. âI donât want you to be angry with me.âÂ
âWell,â He said, sounding sassy as he pulled you closer, âI am pissed. Deal with it.âÂ
You had had enough. You slipped out of his arms, âStay here and brood then,â You tried to get out of bed, âIâll sleep on one of the sofasââÂ
Bucky didnât let you. A loud thunder boomed right above as he pulled you back into bed and climbed on top of you. âStop being fucking difficult.â He hissed.Â
Before you could answer, his mouth was on yours. Beard scratching your face, his long hair tickling the sides of your face.Â
His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Bucky pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldnât close your mouth. âBrat.â Glaring down at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again.Â
Your brain felt like it was floating. His kiss was hot. And messy.Â
âThis is what you wanted, isnât it?â His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, âNeedy little brat. Canât ever do as youâre told, can you? You almost got fucking killed today, but you donât care about that. Do you? Huh?âÂ
You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function.Â
âWhy are you quiet? No bratty words for daddy?â He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. âGo on, tell me to stop. Tell me to let you go.â He taunted, knowing full well you would never do that.Â
All you did was whimper as he touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around.Â
âYouâre gonna listen from now on.â He stated. âI donât care what it takes. Iâll lock you in that apartment if I have to. But from now on, if I tell you itâs not safe out there, you do not leave that house. You hear me, princess?âÂ
Silence. Which earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him. âFine,â You said, âYes, I hear you. Iâll be good.â You whined.Â
âOf course you will,â He said, his metal hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare. ââCause Iâll have you over my knee and spank that little butt raw if you donât.âÂ
You whimpered and squirmed because of how badly you needed him inside you. âI will. Iâll be so good,â You begged, âBuck, please.âÂ
Bucky wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you moaning out loud, not caring that the walls might be thin.Â
The storm got louder somehow, thunder rumbling and lightning lighting up the room every now and then. The rain got heavier, silencing the rest of the world as Bucky fucked you. His body weight pressing down onto you in a way that made you never want to be anywhere else.Â
It didnât matter that you were in a small motel room, so far away from home. It didnât matter that danger could still be lurking around. Nothing mattered, not when he held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right.Â
He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, âLook how you behave the moment you have some cock in you. Is that all my baby wanted? Daddyâs cock? Hmm? Is this why youâve been pouting for the past few hours?â He chuckled, spreading your thighs even more, âIâve been mean to you, havenât I?â He cooed, fucking into you deeper somehow. âIâve been so mean by telling you just where you messed up and how bad things couldâve gotten if I didnât reach you in time. Iâm so mean to you, arenât I?â He mocked you, scoffing, âIs that why your pussy is strangling my cock, baby? Because daddyâs so mean to you, is he?â
You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on.Â
âIs this what you wanted, little bunny?â He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. âIs this enough to make you behave from now on, baby?âÂ
You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body grew, familiar, tight and hot.
The storm, the streetlights, and every little bit of light allowed you to see how Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. âI killed for you today.â He whispered, âI saved you, and this is what I get? Attitude? A bratty girl? Not even a thank you,â He scoffed, âNot even a âthank you for saving me daddyâ, nothing.â The cold cruelty in his voice only made you clench around him harder.Â
His hand squeezed your throat again, making you moan even louder. âDirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.â He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. âAre you gonna be good from now on?âÂ
âYes,â You whined, not recognising your voice because of how desperate you sounded. Then again, only he could make you sound this way. You whimpered, unable to say anything else because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you.Â
Fuck, you needed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.Â
âYeah?â He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. âYouâre gonna be my good girl and listen to me?âÂ
You nodded, tears streaming down your face again. The exhaustion from earlier, the day you had survived. It was all too much. âPleaseâŠâ You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad. Your thoughts were a mess.Â
âGood girl.âÂ
And you couldnât hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning, your back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier.Â
Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. âThatâs it, babygirl. Come for daddy.âÂ
You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your inner thighs.Â
â
You vaguely remember his cleaning the two of you. He let you rest for a minute, but then it seemed like he couldnât keep his hands to himself. So he flipped you around, straddled you and began massaging your worn out body.Â
He rubbed his rough hands all over your back, down your hips, and thighs. It was quiet for a while. Just the rain, the thunder, and the sound of Bucky breathing.Â
Then you heard his gentle voice. âI canât lose you. Not you.â He whispered, like he was saying it to himself, âNot you, baby.âÂ
Your heart throbbed and pinched. Â
He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck, your shoulders, down your spine, all while massaging your body. âI donât like being mean to you.â He kissed his way up again, nuzzling your ear and whispering, âEarlier today,â He spoke softly, âWhen I watched the tracker show me how fast you were getting further and further away, thinking about how they mustâve grabbed you. How easily, how quickly they took you, Iâ,â His voice cracked.Â
You couldnât help the tears anymore, âIâm sorry.â You tried to turn over and face him but he gently pushed you back down on the bed.Â
âShh,â He shut you up. âJust let me take care of you.â His hands touched you everywhere. Soft touches soothing the spots heâd grabbed harshly earlier. âYou scared me, baby.â He kissed around the cut on your side. âFor a moment I thought Iâd never see you again.âÂ
âIâll be good, I promise.â You sniffled, trying to look at him over your shoulder. âIâll train harder, Iâll be better. I wonât let my guard down, ever.âÂ
He leaned in and kissed your lips gently. âYouâre perfect.â He stated. âWeâll work on training you better. Weâll be okay. Donât worry baby, Iâve got you. Always.âÂ
You gave him a teary smile and sheepishly said, âThank you for saving me.âÂ
Bucky laughed softly, nuzzling your neck again, kissing your skin like he couldnât get enough. âI would burn this entire world down if anyone tries to take you from me again.âÂ
You laid your head back down on the pillow, laughing softly. Thinking he was joking.Â
He wasnât.
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focus on me
â©â qimir x acolyte!reader | smut | fluff | 2.5k
SUMMARY | in which the tension finally breaks between you and your master when you train together one afternoon.
WARNINGS | smut, s*xual force choking, knee foreplay, finger sucking, f*ngering, dirty talk, piv s*x, unprotected s*x, violence (fighting and choking)
RATING | explicit
NOTES | i'm simply a girl who's fallen to the dark side for qimir!!! qimir's lowkey a softie in this, which might not be canon, but idc!!!
You stumble back with your palm soiled wet.Â
Thankfully, you grounded the rest of your weight with your makeshift wooden staff. Panting, you drag yourself upward, readying yourself for whatâs to come next.Â
Sweat drips down your forehead as the sun begins to dip into the horizon beyond the abundance of trees and overgrowth, the heat felt by your exposed arms and through your thin sleeveless wrap top.
It's been more than two hours of training, but your master knows your limit. Pushes you until you breakâand he knows youâre far from your breaking point.Â
Perspiration also stains his forehead. Master Qimir wipes it away with the back of his hand, moving his hair aside too.Â
Moments like these, you pride yourself in knowing his identity after years of him preserving his anonymity behind that intimidating, powerful mask. Heâs gained followers over time since you've known him, but youâre his one and only acolyte.Â
Your mind wanders further. Why does he choose to wear his mask in public when he can make nations fall to their knees just with a flash of his smirk?Â
Said smirk is plastered on his face as he twirls his two batons between his fingers with ease. Beyond his smirk, there was also the ordeal of seeing his glistening, gorgeous arms every day andâÂ
Your master calls out your name playfully, âI hope youâre focusing on me.â
âYou know I am, Master.â Youâre not exactly lying. You inch closer, holding your staff firmly with both hands and pointing one end of it in his direction.Â
He tsks and lets out of a deep chuckle. It always bothers you how his chuckles make your heart skip a beat, among the other things it does to the rest of your body. Â
âYou're focusing on things about me, Acolyte. Not on me directly, nor on my presence,ââhe paces in a circle around you, with you tracking his every stepââIf this was a real fight, youâd be dead.â
âWell, I canât help it that my master can be so distracting!â you grit out, taking the opportunity to lunge towards him.Â
Weapons clash. Loud echoes continually reverberate throughout the forest, along with your occasional grunts.Â
Master Qimirâs style is aggressive and swift, always on the offense, so youâve become accustomed to defend his moves well. He comes in with one baton towards your side, and the other towards your head. You deflect both smoothly, and without much thought, you decide to attack him.Â
However, your confidence blinds you.
Too close.Â
He elbows your arm and slams into your side, causing your staff to drop. Â
Then, Qimir shoves you far with the Force, distancing you from your weapon, and gets close again to hook his foot around yours. Your back stings as you fall down.Â
In the blink of an eye, he pins you down with both batons tightly pressed against your throat, cutting off your air supply. You struggle under him, trying your best to smack him away with your diminishing strength.Â
âBreathe, think, and focus,â he calmly orders, despite the agonizing scene in front of him.Â
You take a second to compose yourself, inhaling as much as you can for a second.
Suddenly, you feel his knee move up between your legs, spreading them.
And you feel him moving upwards again, but this time brushing against your core.Â
Your sparring composure absolutely shattersâa gasp and small moan release, and youâre back to struggling once more.Â
You assume it was a mistake, but youâre relishing in the pleasure nevertheless, even in your current state of distress.Â
âFocus, my acolyte,â Master Qimir barks, and he presses the batons harder into you. âFocus!âÂ
Your vision begins to blur alongside the increasing pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Gathering all your might and wanting to avoid disappointing Qimir, you breathe as much as you can and drown out everything to focus on how to get out of the situation.Â
With a sliver of consciousness left, you will yourself to use the Force and seize your staff. Your fingers clutch around it and you thwack Qimir hard on the head, disorienting him for a moment. Without hesitation, throughout your excessive gasping, you skillfully maneuver yourself to switch positions.Â
Now, your staff is pressed against his throat.Â
âIs this better, Master?â you pant and cough with a grin, basking in your success. âAm I focused now?âÂ
He grants a brief nod, but you notice an unusual look in his eyes.Â
It reads as a rare time heâs overly impressed, but thereâs something else.Â
Qimir raises his hand and gently curls it around yours, wordlessly asking you to lower your weapon. You ruffle your eyebrows, unsure why heâs letting down his guard against you during training.
âMaster Qimir,â you whisper, still holding your staff to the side with a relaxed but guarded grip, âis this another test of yours?â Â
He shakes his head, his touch now carefully grazing your forehead and cheeks. Your staff rolls away as your eyes flutter, savoring this foreign feeling from himâtenderness, affection, warmth. A hand softly cups your face.Â
âTrainingâs over for today.âÂ
The warmth fades into familiar roughness with a sharp pull by the back of your neck downwards.Â
His mouth drives into yours, each kiss igniting fire within you, sparking every inch of your body. Desire is bursting at the seams. He kneads your neck and body intently, mirroring you as you clutch onto his face and sturdy frame.Â
Youâd be lying to yourself if you said you had never fantasized kissing Qimir before, but this is everything you dreamed of and better. Â
âMasterââ you gasp sharply at the sensation of him pressing his knee up against you again. Reflexively, you writhe as your body screams for more.Â
âYou like this a lotâŠâ His tone drips of arrogance. Further pressure is added and he happily inhales your moans between his teasing chuckles.  Â
You manage to muster the following amidst the rising pleasure, âSo it was intentional before.â
âOf course.â His words are muffled as he leaves open-mouthed kisses upon the side of your neck. Your fingers dig further into his shoulder and scalp as he cups your breast. âYou need to learn to push aside your desires when training.âÂ
âShould we stop then?â The neck kissing sears you, especially when he tugs skin between his teeth to bite and suck. âTo teach me a lesson?âÂ
He shakes his head and removes himself from your neck, coming back up to drag your lower lip between his teeth.Â
âIt doesnât mean I want to push aside my desires.âÂ
You catch a fleeting glimpse of his signature smirk before his lips are on yours again. Kisses become more electric as he dips his tongue into your mouth.
Hands fly erratically and grasp everywhere. His arms. Your ass. Fingers running beneath his top, feeling up his abs. His harsh grips of your thighs.Â
Unexpectedly, he holds you close and flips you over; youâre back on top of him again and you can surely feel his prominent desire against yours.Â
In a rush, you bunch up his thin shirt and attempt to pull it off him. He sits up with you in his lap and, with a fluid flick of his wrist, he rids you of your clothes and they are tossed to one side; his follow suit. Qimir promptly draws his nearby robes closer to be placed underneath you both, covering yourselves from the soiled forest.Â
The look in his eyes is unmistakably lust-filled, completely insatiable. He wastes no time in taking your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking and lips puckering, while one hand holds you by your back and the other dips two fingers into your desire, wet and ready for him.Â
You arch into him, leaning your head back and letting yourself go. Wanting to reciprocate, you reach out to stroke his cock. Relishing in the pleasure, he draws back his head, eyes closed, and leans his forehead against your chest.
The forest may be filled with the rustling of the wind against the trees and the odd bird cawing, but all you can focus on is Qimirâs throaty groans and every obscene squelch when he slides his fingers in and out of you.Â
He glances up and attempts to open his eyes as much as he can to give you his full attention, despite the heavenly strokes youâre giving him.Â
Eyes shine back at you with the utmost vulnerabilityâa sight you never see. A sight that you want to etch into your memory forever, knowing you, his Acolyte, could make your Master weak and let his guard down with just your touch.Â
âYou donât know how long Iâve held myself backâŠâ
The vulnerability dissipates as he darts his tongue against your untouched nipple.Â
â...wanting to see you like this for me.âÂ
You two become one for a while as he plays with you like a toy he just received as a gift. He tries you out, sees what you like and what you can handle. How sensitive you are with your breasts. How many fingers you can take. How much noise you make when he thumbs your clit.Â
At one point, he eventually removes his fingers from you, evidently drenched from your bliss. He holds out his fingers in front of you, and you realize what heâs suggesting.  Â
Obediently, like you always are with him, you open your mouth and let his fingers lay on your tongue. You wrap your mouth around them, and finally let yourself suck on them a bit, tasting yourself and treating his fingers as if it were his cock.Â
When you finish, to your surprise, he sticks his fingers into his own mouth, sucking off the remnants of you. He then kisses you deeply. Tasting yourself in his mouth excites you, riles you up again and back to wanting the next step with Qimir.Â
As if reading your mind, he adjusts himself to lay back down vertically, and takes you by your wrist to lead you to sit onto him.Â
You hold his possession against you between your legs, teasing his tip by not quite sitting onto him fully, indulging in your control over him. However, at this point, Qimir lacks patience, so he grasps you by your waist and forces you to ease onto his length. Â
The guttural moan you release could easily be heard at all ends of the forest.Â
He fills you deliciously, stretches you in the sweetest way possible. Using the strength of your thighs and your hands to keep you steady, you bounce at a comfortable pace, not wanting this to end just yet.
When you find a good position to balance your weight, you allow yourself to stroke his perfect body. His chiseled abs. The solid planes of his chest. His strong forearms. The sharp jawline that you dream of kissing almost every night.
âYou take my cock so well.âÂ
A more familiar look flashes through his eyes, one that you normally see him flash prior to slaying Jedi or when he's in a bad mood. Itâs drenched with darkness and dominance, almost bordering on fury.  Â
You freeze, and then you feel it.
The constriction around your throat, created by the Force. He can easily kill you within seconds. He's done this only once to you, and that was when he was testing your loyalty to him years ago.
But this is different. Different than that time, and most definitely different than before with his batons. This is more controlled; the hold is mostly against the sides of your windpipe and it isn't overtly harsh.Â
On top of that, your entire body is on fire, becoming wound up by this act. Â
âDo you enjoy this?â he asks, tone teetering between curiosity and being threatening.
âYes,â you mentally scream.
âI want to hear you say it.âÂ
âYes,â you manage to croak.Â
He raises an eyebrow. âYes, what?â
âYes, Master.âÂ
âNu-uh,â he says. âSay my name, my beautiful acolyte.â
You're too distracted to be caught up in the fact that he called you beautiful. Instinctively, you want to ride this new sensation to lead you to another high. But you know that if you donât reply, he might not let you get there.Â
âYes, Qimir.â
His signature smirk takes up his whole face and your pussy clenches tighter at the sight of it. He may have the upper hand with his strength around your neck, but so do you when you notice the flickering of his eyes.
âAnd how does my cock feel?â He tightens a little more around your throat, and you're affected further. Qimir's collectedness can only take much longer too.
âFeels good, feels so fucking goodâŠâÂ
Intoxication rises from your abdomen and to all ends of your body. Your eyes begin to roll, and you're so closeâÂ
And it's gone. The tightness on your throat stops, and so is your near-high.
You're about to complain, but Qimir quickly hauls you in close to his body. Face to face, forehead to forehead, your breaths fan one another.
âBefore I let either of us finish, I want to hear you say my name as you come on my cock.â
That smirk will be the absolute death of you, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
âCan you do that for me?âÂ
You nod breathlessly.
Your master holds you by your waist and immediately thrusts over and over, deep and fast into you. Desperate to reach his climax, and to ensure you get to yours too.
âQimirQimirQimirââÂ
And so you unravel, voice rising with every iteration. Saying his name like youâre praying for forgiveness from all ends of the universe.Â
Qimir then brings his mouth to yours once more, swallowing all your pretty whimpers and allowing himself to chase his own release moments later.Â
Laying on his bare chest, you glance up at him and wonder how the relationship between you will be from now on.
You couldnât just go back to what you were before; you would now be a master and acolyte intertwined sexually at least, romantically at most. Would it not be complicated?Â
But of course, Master Qimir can hear whatâs going on in your mind, and he doesnât even need the Force to do so. Being his enigmatic self, he merely answers your thoughts by speaking the Sith Code:Â
ââPeace is a lie. There is only passionâŠââÂ
He meets your eyes, strokes your face with a small smile. Affection blooms in your chest.
ââThrough passion, I gain strength.ââÂ
Holds your hand against his beating chest.Â
ââThrough strength, I gain power.ââÂ
His grip tightens.Â
ââThrough power, I gain victory. And through victory, my chains are broken.ââÂ
Qimir leans in and kisses you deeply as the darkness of the night sky engulfs you, the sun saying its goodbye for the night.
And with that, you realize that no matter what will happen from here on out, heâll always care for you.Â
That despite all the blood, sweat, and tears shed through training, stealing, and all the killing, heâs just as loyal and devoted to you as you are to him.
#qimir x reader#qimir x you#qimir smut#qimir fanfic#star wars x reader#star wars smut#star wars x you#star wars fanfiction
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prequel: again &. again. (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)
directory: prequel, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three
read until the end for an author's note.
what hurts more when it comes to neglectful batfam that adopted you after jason's death (that eventually turns a 360 after you have left) is probably the fact that they always had time for you, it's just that they never chose to spend it on you; an extra burden to their family rather than an addition. if they had time to spend, they spend it on anything or anyone else but you. it's not that you don't share interests with them, it's just...! they have way more priorities that push you further back into their list of 'to do's'; though you know you'll always be the last of that list.
bruce has to juggle so many tasks as the billionaire playboy "brucie wayne", a father of an ever growing family, and gotham's dark knight vigilante but somehow, you're aware he could easily fit in one or two more children into his already booked scheduleâ he just never seems to consider you worthy enough apparently. or maybe it was because you were too silent, you set boundaries compared to your other family who are outspoken about what they want, what they needâ but there's one thing for sure that sets you off from your siblings; you're not a vigilante.
you were merely a child of a one night stand; a child raised too well. you were behaved, you never complained, and you were just, you. and being normal (at least in their level of extraordinary talents were you a mere droplet) amongst a family of talented individuals makes you easily a ghost. was bruce to blame with his neglect? definitely. if he was able to balance his life so easily, then maybe as the world's best detective would he notice you packing your things day by day without update. maybe that was why you never once hesitated the moment you stepped outside the manor, permanently.
dick's excuse would always be "sorry, baby bird! but i promised to spar with damian today. ah, but you can watch from the sidelines!" or he would be too busy saving bludhaven to even acknowledge your presence. sure, he smiles at you with those shiny teeth of his, but despite him looking at you, he never notices you for more than a second, right after he would skidadle his way to another sibling's room, bothering them to spend more time with him, never you though. it occurs to you that he has only entered your bedroom once, and that occurrence was years ago. even then, he didn't last a minute inside there before running away once more.
family matters more than anything to dick. hell, he was enraged at the announcement of jason's death and even beat joker to a bloody pulp when he realized tim fell into his hands. he's ready to defend damian, barbara, steph, cass, and duke with his life. it's his duty and obligation as the family's eldest brother, of course. but were you considered family to him? were you considered a sibling in his eyes, or were you just the resident roommate of the mansion? you question that endlessly because everyone, family and friends, seem to be smitted with dick, but you eventually gave up trying to vye for his attention. it's fine, really, if you were just another civilian to him, because he was just another person to you too. just like in a circus, you would always be the intermission rather than the main event. and with that, you take your leave.
jason was the most forgivable to you, second to tim. he was never there, and he would've probably put effort into spending time with you if not for the fact he despises bruce and the mansion and wouldn't and couldn't last a second stepping into it. he never met you when he was robin, it was only right after his death did he discover were you taken in and that added fact alongside tim being his replacement turned him bitter with resentment. though his hatred for you receded over time, he wouldn't really be caught taking a minute with you because he always sneaks inside the mansion and crime in gotham never seems to lessen. because of that, and your unwillingness to become a vigilante to kick ass with him and the others, he wouldn't be able to fully take an hour with you.
casual talks are unavoidable, though, when at the dead of the night he would be caught sneaking in to eat some leftovers and you were conveniently awake at the same time as him. he'll recommend you some classic literature he read or 'cafes/restaurants that criminals visit the least' lists, but before it would turn into a full conversation, jason would already be wearing his signature mask again, and with a pat on your head and a "talk to you soon, can't guarantee it'll be tomorrow again though, only here for alfred's meals of course," and he'll be gone. you shouldn't have let your hopes high, you wished you didn't because, duh! he wasn't there to talk to you, specifically. you were just there to bide his time! wiping tears away from your eyes, and with a heavy heart, you book an apartment away from the wayne manor with your own atm card; hope irreversibly dead and unable to revive a sliver of faith, even if it was dipped in the lazarus pit would it never come back as the same.
tim drake is always tired. just like bruce, his days are filled with investigation, crime fighting, and worst of all; high school. that's of course that least of his worries the moment he drops out. tim was never the guy to talk much. he only does when he needs to make an impression for others, or when he needs to manipulate people for potential information. his life revolved around fighting, from when he solved the case of bruce wayne and dick grayson being batman and robin respectively, up to his current identity as red robin and occasionally robin. he'll often be found in the batcave working with babs on a case or working alone in his room.
it's no mistake that you were the most distant to him, never once knowing about his interests or even hobbies and vice versa. it was a given that at the very moment you pass a glance at him, you knew it was a 'mind your business' type of relationship with him. if you were a mere ghost to dick, then you were just a spec of dust to tim. it was unfair to assume he would never care for you, he does! only in a way where you were another person to save if you ever were endangered, but would that be enough to stalk you to the point he gains every insight about you? not really. you weren't one of his friends, like kon who he would spend weekly video game challenges with; and you probably don't exist as his sibling in his own little world filled with coffee and computers. yeah, your feelings about leaving him weren't as bitter as the caffeine he drowns in his system, but you were still hurt either way.
damian wayne, from his birth, was taught and raised to prioritize his mission as an al ghul, to be the one continuing the legacy and to shed blood on anyone who opposes. when he was given over to bruce, it took a hell lot of effort to turn a new page and become the next robin. it was, with no doubt, that despite his 'redemption', he would be a tad bit crueler to you than the others. unlike tim, who he persistently bothers, you were untalented, worthless, and a stain on the reputation of the wayne's. even jason, his father's greatest mistake, had more value than you.
maybe it was fine-tuned jealousy, maybe he was mirroring his father and dick's actions towards you with his own sick twist of violence. either way, you would rather avoid the boy, lest you face the wrath of his sword. it wouldn't be wrong if you came to hate him, actually you do, but despite your endless game of cat and mouse with you as the unwilling victim of the chase, your poor heart couldn't fathom the thought of not excusing his actions as that of a child's. you tell yourself everyday, 'just ignore it, he was raised like as to be a menace after all' but you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together. the resentment eventually builds up until you blow up and just, give up. within your final moments in the manor, you figured to leave some belongings that you collected overtime that were supposedly memorabilias that you wish to show off to your family. like his pieces of art, you could only explain your life in the family as black and white and as bleak as the streaks of charcoal that rubs against the pages.
when dick was jogging through the desolate halls of the manor, he noticed the place seemed to be more... empty of some sort. and he knows pushing that feeling into the back of his head would only result in more questions than answers. so he decides to enter the spare rooms one by one until he comes across your room (he doesn't know it was yours, though), turning the knob without knocking.
that was when his eyes seem to dilate. his nose catched a faint whiff of bleach (was the room deep-cleaned?), vision seemingly closing in on the few furniture left alongside a diary and other boxes left neatly on your bed, with other smaller trinkets left untouched on your bedside table. he didn't remember you mentioning anything about leaving, hell, he doesn't want to admit his lack of memories about you butâ
wait...
didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago...?
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: this is one of my favorite pieces of writing i have ever done and i like it a lot so i hope whoever reads this likes it too. if you all want to read more of this, then please leave a comment or reblog because i heavily appreciate it and it motivates me further to write this type of content! the reason i have come to a long hiatus is because, as stated, the lack of interaction with content. like i said, i will still write for genshin but i am open to expanding my fandom list. (p.s. i hope you like the way i had to connect their interests or a part of their past to the reader.)
heavily inspired by @klemen-tine's work: Glass Bones and Paper Skin, @gotham-daydreams' work: Not [], and @onmyyan's work: Ain't No Sunshine.
#đ·... yael's works#đ§... yael's misc.#series: again & again#yandere dc#yandere batfam#yandere batman#yandere batboys#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere damian wayne#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#platonic yandere#omg pls let this blow up#<- i say as i pray and beg on my knees#guess who's my favorite robin (trick question)#i hope i am feeding dc fans well with this (i am eating this up myself)
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Give This Old Man a Heart Attack - A.H
a/n: incredibly self-indulgent per usual because i'm the biggest cry baby to ever exist
masterlist
âË â©Â°ïœĄâ⥠âËâĄâĄ âËâĄâĄâïœĄÂ°â©Ëââ§
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: you make a mistake that almost gets you killed and hotch has a few choice words about it
warnings: slight angst, happy endings, established relationship, you're in trouble, suggestive ending nothing crazy, hotch is a sucker and gives in way too easily to you
wc: 0.9k
You were an idiot. You were so utterly stupid, and you could feel the heat coursing through you, prickling at your fingertips and scorching your ears. You had braced yourself for this moment all day, but the sheer anger in Hotch's eyes was something no amount of bracing could shield you from.
You were quite accustomed to his eerily tranquil expression, often misleading, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Today though, you were the focus of that discerning stare.Â
"Do you understand that gravity of your actions today?"
You were fighting every urge to cry. Confrontation had always been your Achillies' heel, a fact that seemed laughable given your line of work.
You weren't talking about the type of confrontation that came with gunning down unsubs or running into burning buildings. No, it was the intimate kind, the kind that involved the disappointment in the eyes of those you cared about, those you respected, especially him.
So here you stood, tears simmering at the edges of your vision, your hands fidgeting and folding over themselves, knuckles whitening with the pressure.
Your lips parted, ready to speak, to defend yourself, but the rising lump in your throat held the words captive. Silence seemed like the better choice, so you offered a nod instead.
Hotch's hand briefly obscured his face, thumb and middle finger pressing against the bridge of his nose, as he cast a handful of documents onto his desk. They landed haphazardly, a chaotic reflection of the mistakes you made on this case.
"You could've gotten killed." Each word was forced out between clenched teeth. Never a good sign. "In fact, you were this close."
You felt his assessment was inflated, but now was definitely not the right time to point that out. You swallowed the rising retort and cautiously shifted a fraction closer to the desk, eyes flicking to the closed door behind you.
"I'm sorry, Aaron," you said softly, voice betraying the slightest fracture. "It won't happen again."
The sound of your strained syllables caused his head to jerk up. Contrarily, you recoiled, bowing your head into your chest as you feigned interested in the carpet's intricate threads. It was an interesting color.Â
You failed to register him circling the desk. Not until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. The toe of his shoes just within your field of view. They were semi-brogue oxfords. His favorite.
The accumulated emotions of the week finally broke through, your shoulders trembling as you frantically brushed away the mortifying tears with your sleeve, only to feel his hands on your shoulders, drawing you into his chest.
"No, no," you protested, but the resistance in your voice was absent in your actions, as you found yourself easily giving into the warmth of his chest. "Don't feel bad for me just because I'm crying."
He said nothing, just a faint hum that filled the space, the vibrations sending ripples across your cheek.Â
"Youâ, you were reprimanding me," you paused to sniffle, "and I deserve to be reprimanded. I know what I did was stupid."
"It was." His hand lay on your back, thumb circling lightly through your dress shirt, nearly burning through the fabric. "But I'm not going to continue to berate you when I feel as though you've learned your lesson."
"You weren't berating me," you mumble against his shirt.
"I made you cry."
When you looked up, your saw the concern etched on his face, brows pinched, a frown marring his handsome face. His hands cradled your face, thumbs gently clearing the tears as you breathed out a sigh.
"I think you know me well enough to know that it doesn't take much to make me cry."
This was true. You kept your emotions were always close to the surface, whether from happiness, sadness, or sheer frustration.Â
Once you had sobbed over the unequal lengths of your shoelace bows. Morgan then proceeded to ask if you had ever been tested for autism.
"It doesn't make it any more disheartening to see," he said, shifting his hands to rest on your shoulders. He looked tired and it made you want to cry all over again.
"Would you feel that way if I was Reid?" You asked. It was a loaded question. One you peppered him with often.
You had strived to draw clear lines between your professional and personal lives, but moments like this made it very difficult.Â
He didn't even bother you with a response, and he didn't need to. You knew the answer.
Another quick look over your shoulder, and you pressed a swift kiss to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation from him, the stickler for rules that he is, but soon his restraint gave way, his hand seeking you with a desperate intensity.
He drew back just enough to study your face, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, like he was making sure you were really there.
"You really scared me today," he confessed, your foreheads resting together as your eyes locked.
"I know."
"Please don't do that again," he implored, pausing only to plant another quick kiss on your upper lip. "This old man's heart can only take so much."
You beamed at him with a cheeky smile. "I can't make any guarantees."
As you headed for the door, he sent a quick slap to your ass, drawing out a bubbly giggle that vibrated through the room.
That old man's heart definitely might give out after what you had planned for tonight.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fic#hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#criminal minds fluff#Spotify
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Ë đ„ËAnya x implied f!Reader - sticking up for herË đ„Ë
Written By: DeathByDay
+++
You sat around the lounge roomâs table with the rest of the crew. Anya sat to your left, her hands intertwined with yours on her thigh. Swansea was just right across from you, Daisuke beside him. Curly and Jimmy sat on the ends of the table, staring at each other.
You all had just gotten word from Curly that Pony Express has finally shut down and this would be the last time the crew was together. Everyone became upset at the news, rightfully so, but Jimmy was angry.
He ranted about how Curly was selfish and heading for âbigger and betterâ than the five of you. You raised a brow, realizing how idiotic this fight between the two became.
You werenât going to say anything about it, but that backfired when Jimmy began going around the table stating everyoneâs struggles. And of course, he just had to start with your girlfriend.
âAnya never got into medical school because sheâs, well, letâs be real..â He trailed off, glancing at the poor girl. He turned to you and opened his mouth to speak, but you immediately cut him off.
âOh, fuck you, Jim!â You shouted, slamming your hands on the table and standing up. You pointed a finger towards him, continuing on. âYou donât have any right to go around the table saying that shit. What about you? Why donât you share with all of us what Curly meant by a âstruggle of a lifeâ?â
You glared at the man, your eyes full of hatred. His brows furrowed even more as he stood up, his voice rising to match your energy.
âWho the fuck do you think you are to shout at me like that?â He yelled, his body acting like it was ready to pounce on you. âDonât ignore my question!â You replied, voice raising. Everyone else stayed silent, watching the two of you argue.
That was until you eventually ran around Anyaâs chair and slapped the brunette across the face, causing him to push you. You gripped his hair and slammed him into the ground with all your force, not thinking about how much more strength he had than you.
You two continued fighting, punches and kicks being thrown around. Daisuke had his hand clasped around his mouth in shock, looking like he was about to burst into tears and giggle like a kid.
Curly got up from his seat and shouted at the both of you in attempt to stop the fight, but failed miserably. As his attempted failed, Swansea stood up and grabbed you from underneath your arms and dragged you back, stopping the chaos.
âCâmon, kid!â He muttered a bit loudly, struggling as you fought back. Anya stood by the older man, a few tears in her eyes. As Swansea let you go, you were about to pounce on the brunette once again, but your girlfriend held you down by placing her hands on your shoulders.
âY/N, stop!â She scolded, her grip tightening. You glanced up at the woman, obeying her order. You turned back towards Jimmy, seeing his face bruised up. You lightly chuckled, knowing that you fucked his face up.
Anya helped you up before dragging you away from everyone, walking to the medical room.
âBaby, Iâm fine..â You muttered, dragging out your words as if you were pouting. She shook her head, concern written all over her face. âNo, you arenât. Your face is all bruised, not to mention the blood coming out of your nose.â She replied. She seemed mad, but her features told a different story.
After a few seconds of walking, you finally got to the medical room. You sat down in the red chair beside her desk, waiting for her to get the supplies to help you. She quickly grabbed them and set them down on the table.
She brung a few tissues that were wrapped around each other and pressed them against your nose, stopping the bleeding. You groan, feeling the red liquid drop onto your lip. âYou shouldnât have done that.â She mumbled, shaking her head in disappointment.
âBut he came at you for no reason! I canât just not step in.â You defend yourself, slightly giggling as you recall his bruised face. She sighed, taking the tissue away from your nose.
She then grabbed an ice pack, placing it against your cheek. You grumble, squirming in your seat at the new temperature. âDo you really think this is necessary? I swear, Iâm fine.â You pout, feeling uncomfortable as she held you in place.
âThis is necessary. If we donât get this treated, the bruising can get worse.â She explained, gently tapping the ice around your face. You nod, taking a glance around the room as she did so.
After a few minutes, she pulled away, causing you to turn to her. âDid I do good?â You murmur, hoping for her praise. She fights back a smile and gives you a light chuckle. She places her hands on her hips before exhaling, the worry in her face gone.
âYou did great, honey. Just please promise me you wonât pick a fight with anyone else? We really donât need you getting fired.â She smiles down at you, bending over and giving you a light kiss on your forehead before leaving the room, taking the ice pack and extra tissue with her to deal with Jimmy.
+++
authors note
Iâm so sorry if this isnât as good as you were expecting, my eyes are literally fighting to stay openđ
But thank you for the request!! I appreciate it very much<3
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#indie games#mouthwashing x reader#horror games#video games#x reader#writers on tumblr#jimmy mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#anya x reader mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing
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Dragonseeds (Pt. 1)
Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Cole)!Reader
Summary: If any man can claim a dragon, what good is the blood of Old Valyria?
18+ ONLY MDNI
Y/N Velaryon has loved Aegon since she was small; fascinated by the Prince, three years her senior. Like a shadow, from corridor to corridor, and one day, like a switch, they flip.
Aegon begins seeking her out, searching the castle high and low for his betrothed. Training fiercely by the sword, with the understanding that only a knight could properly defend her. A sworn sword will only go so far, they could not love her the way he does.
âI love you too much, you have ruined me.â
He often tells her, to which the princess smiles.
âAs dearly as I love you.â
When they are forced to wed immediately after the incident at Driftmark, neither the prince nor princess are eager to produce heirs.
They fight often, loud, passionate disagreements. He raises his hand to her once, in a fit of rage. Using every bit of self restraint to cup her cheek instead, a bit too forcefully. With blunt nails digging into her delicate skin as she watches him with wide eyes. âI meant to strike you.â That is what one does when the person they love refuses to listen, is it not?
âYou did not.â
âI wanted to,â he admits. âI could not.â
The princess offers a sad smile, turning her face into his palm. âThat is what matters.â
They do not lie together for some four years, until the growing protests become too loud to ignore.
âThe smallfolk believe that a strong line of succession is the work of a strong marriage. My claim is already in question, we will need a strong line.â Y/N whispers against his lips.
Aegon loves his wife, but detests the notion that she is to be bred like cattle to uphold their duty to the crown. He hates being a prince, he hates being a Targaryen.
That is why he so loves Y/Nâs hair, each dark, rebellious wave. How it screams âI do not belong to you.â
He hacks off his silver tresses at the first sob of his wife on the birthing bed. Never allowing it to grow past his chin again.
The future Queen and King consort are blessed with twin daughters, followed by three sweet sons, the youngest two inherit their motherâs dark locks. Pleasing Aegon to no end.
âI want a daughter who favors you.â Aegon admits.
âThen we must try again.â Y/N grins.
Aegon fists a hand in her dark locks as they make love, as though it will grant his wish.
They are expecting a sixth child before King Viserysâ death. Before Aegon takes the throne to guard it. Before Y/N crowns him, in the dragon pit, at Ser Cristonâs order.
âListen to me now, these next days are critical. Decide now whether you wish to live or die, if you want your children to live.â
âMy children are in danger?â Y/N whispers.
âYour children have been in danger.â Ser Criston sneers.
âWhy are you helping me?â
âYou know why.â Cole grits out. Blood of my blood.
âSurely it would be easier for you if I were gone.â
âI do not wish you dead.â The man tells her. âCrown Aegon, the people must see you to do it. Surrender it peacefully and they will fall in line.â
âAnd my mother?â
Cole squares his shoulders, âwe save who we can save.â
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Only two days later tragedy strikes, pressing on the delicate ties that hold the greens together. Severing them with the news of Vhagarâs betrayal.
âI did not mean to kill Lucerys.â Aemond admits, in the presence of his mother, grandsire and brother alone.
âWhat did you mean to do?â Aegon slams his fist against the table.
âHave a bit of fun.â
âFun?â Aegon scoffs, âis it entertaining to you that I must now break this news to my wife in her condition?â
âAegon,â Alicent sighs, âmayhaps you might wait until-â
âI will not lie to her, mother.â Aegon says, âbetter she hear it from me.â
âThe grand maester should ready a draft, something to calm her.â Otto suggests.
âNo.â Aegon shakes his head.
âThink of the babe.â
âI do think of the babe!â Aegon shouts, âI think of the babe and I think of my wife. My poor, sweet, wife who is never considered by another soul, save for me.â
Alicent swallows hard.
âThis world can be cruel.â Otto admits, âyou must keep your wits about you, your grace.â
Aegon scoffs, storming out of the room to find his wife, standing but a foot from the doorway. âHow much did you hear?â
âVery little, I was headed to look in on the children. I heard you shouting.â She admits, âit stopped me.â
âCome, my heart.â Aegon murmurs, wrapping her in his arms. âThere is something I must tell you.â
Y/N nods, against his chest. It must be something awful, she can feel it in her bones.
âI need you to do your best to keep calm. Our child needs you calm, yes?â
Again she nods.
âThereâs been a terrible accident,â he begins swaying her. âLucerys and Aemond had a run in at Stormâs End.â
âNo,â she clutches him a bit tighter.
âVhagarâŠis accustomed to war. I do not-â he breaks off. âAemond insists it was an accident.â
âMy brother is dead?â
âI am so terribly sorry.â Aegon murmurs, pressing his cheek to hers, in a desperate attempt to absorb even an ounce of her pain. âI am so sorry.â
âI cannot breathe.â The thought of sweet Lucerys dying frightened and alone is inconceivable.
âYou must.â
âI should have been there, to fly for my motherâs claim.â
âYou are with child.â He reminds her.
âI am always with child, it makes little difference.â She heaves in a bitter breath.
âYou could not have changed it.â
âI might have tried!â She pulls herself away from him. âI need a moment alone.â
âMy heart, you should not be alone.â
âPlease,â she insists.
Aegon spends the evening drowning himself in cups, choking down the urge to murder his brother.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Y/N and Aegon make the decision to leave with their children under the cover of nightfall.
Ser Criston catches them of course, he always seems to. Only this time he makes no move to stop them.
âI swore an oath to protect you.â Cole insists. âFor too long I have stood idle, allowing Rhaenyra to guide you. To mold you into the heir she so desperately needed.â He looks to Y/N, âI offered her a quiet life on the hillside, selling oranges.â
Y/N blinks at him.
âShe wanted no part in that,â Cole smiles. âI suppose Ser Harwin Break Bones was more agreeable.â
Y/N stares back at him with familiar eyesâŠhis eyes. âAre you not ashamed of me?â
âI did not turn away from you because I was ashamed. I have never been ashamed of you. I wished only to make it easier on you, so that you would not bear the shame.â Cole tells her. âNow you decide for yourselfâŠthe life you want. Return to your mother on Dragonstone, or fly away across the narrow sea.â
Part 2
Aegon taglist: @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @niyahnotnia
#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen#hotd aegon#hotd smut#aegon targaryen smut#aegon smut#aegon ii#aegon imagine
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Desperate to breed, desperate for your scent àŒ¶ Miguel O'Hara headcanons nsfw 18+
âč Heâll sneak your used underwear out of your hamper, keeping them out on his desk in his home office, sniffing them to soothe his stress and nerves, but mostly when heâs craving you. Heâll imagine you, squirming and whining as he eats you out. Heâll imagine how you taste, remembering how your fresh heat smells, as his nose rubs against your throbbing bud, all while keeping his nose pressed against your lace panties. He gets off on it. Heâll try to control himself, but every now and then, heâll release a shameful load into them, imagining his tight, lacy fist were you, though he knows too well itâll never compare. After you search all over your apartment for them, heâll return them in a week, now freshly washed and ready to be wet again. You roll your eyes when he returns them to you, as he defends himself, âcouldnât help it, mamas, you smell too good to wash away so soon,â heâll shrug, kissing your neck, âI just needed to savor it.âÂ
âč Miguel is animalistically desperate for you when youâre ovulating. He fights to ignore his dirty thoughts, but his heightened senses make your hormones smell one million times stronger, the sweet musky smell driving him insane. He usually keeps his distance, trying not to overwhelm you with his intense desire, but mostly fails and ends up smothering you on these special days, which you donât mind. Heâs always obsessed with you, but those days, heâs like a desperate animal, craving your taste and your wet warmth.Â
âč He wants to make sure it takes. After filling you up with his hot thick liquid, heâll finger you, curling his fingers back up into you, pumping his seed back into you, hoping itâll stick and make you plump with his child in a few months time. He doesnât even realize/acknowledge how obsessive he can be about it; itâs natural to him. You moan, concealing your smile, as you let him satisfy his instinctive desires.Â
âč He lends you t-shirts to wear and sweat in for one whole week, knowing your scent and musk will be absorbed into it. He makes it a job for you to complete, handing it to you, expecting his shirts back in one week, drenched in your scent. When he goes home, he puts one on immediately and wears it as pajamas all week until the smell wears off.Â
âč He loves the smell of your sweat. Especially the sweaty essence you bring home after you work out or after a long summer day. Heâll embrace you right at the door, digging his nose into your neck, or burying his head into your chest and underarms. When you resist out of embarrassment or exhaustion, he begs and whines for you to let him smell you all over, asking to help you undress for your shower so he can smell you all the way up until you wiggle out of his grasp and begin to shower the long day off of you. As he undresses you, he buries his face into every corner of you. Heâll kneel down, undressing you, pressing his nose in between your inner thighs, inhaling and humming against your skin. You canât help but blush and giggle at his simple, kind of embarrassing but harmless requests. Heâs obsessed and addicted to you, and you love it. It reassures you that he craves your skin and entire existence as much as you crave him.Â
#miguel oâhara headcanon#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel headcanons#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman2099#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara atsv#miguel o hara#miguel x reader#spiderman headcanons#spiderman x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara scenarios#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel ohara x you#miguel spiderverse
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Smooth Operator
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
[WOSO Masterlist]
Aitanaâs smirking at you when you drop into the seat in front of her. Youâre instantly dropping your face into your hands, wishing the ground would just come swallow you up.Â
âWhat the hell was that?â Keira chuckles, giving you a gentle nudge.Â
âWhat the hell was what?â you huff, shoving Keira back.Â
âNice shoes? Really?â Aitana tags on, joining in on the teasing.Â
âI panicked, okay?!â you groan.Â
Having joined the team in the last trade window, your best friend thought it would be a great idea to go explore nearby cafes in an effort to immerse you into the Barcelona culture a bit. Aitana tagged along just for funsies, but it was a clear coincidence that the three of you ran into Alexia. The Barcelona captain looked deep in conversation with her sister when the three of you walked into the shop, not even noticing you guys until Alba looked up and waved.
Youâve been enamored with Alexia long before you even joined the team. Youâve only ever had the chance to admire from afar, but it wasnât until you actually saw her in action that your admiration turned into a feet stumbling, constant stuttering, blushing hot mess.Â
You like to take pride in your smoothness, the way you can charm almost any person that crosses your path. Just in the latest national team camp you were voted most likely to talk their way out of a ticket.Â
âA couple fluttered eyelashes and a well-placed laugh, who wouldnât fall for her?â
If only your teammates could see you now.Â
Every time you cross paths with the Spanish midfielder youâre grasping at the straws just to string along a coherent sentence.Â
Alexia asks if you know the time? You blurt out that your phone is dead before diving behind Keira, ignoring the timepiece sitting upon your wrist.Â
Alexia jokes that the Spanish sun is zapping away all of her energy? You trip seconds later, spilling your water all over her.
Alexia defends you in a drill? You stumble over the ball, missing it completely before taking Alexia straight to the ground.
No matter what you try to do, you always end up embarrassing yourself.Â
Case in point just a few seconds ago.Â
Being the pieces of shit they are, Aitana and Keira send you to order your drinks. Coincidentally Alexiaâs back in line herself, ready to get another thing for her sister.Â
Youâre mentally rehearsing your orders when a gentle hand on your back grabs your attention. Alexia gives you a soft smile when you turn to face her.Â
âHow are you today?âÂ
Her english is heavily accented, but itâs nice how she tries to keep you engaged, knowing youâre still struggling through your catalan and spanish lessons.
Or it would be cute if you actually heard any of it, because the truth is anything she says after she flashes a smile your way goes right over your head. Your heart turns to goo, hands getting sweaty, throat going dry.
âYouâre so pretty.âÂ
Itâs a whispered comment meant only for your ears. But the second you realize you said it out loud rather than in your head like you intended, your face burns in embarrassment.
Thankfully, Alexiaâs eyebrows furrow together, your quiet words difficult for her to decipher.Â
âQuĂš? I am sorry, I did not catch that.â
âI just-- I meant--â you fumble, desperately trying to find an excuse. âYour⊠shoes! Your shoes are very pretty! Very nice too!â
Your voice carries, definitely not meaning to be as loud as it comes out. Itâs hard to miss the way Alba tilts her head curiously at the two of you and the way Keira and Aitana start giggling near the back of the shop.
Your face feels even hotter as you will for the line to go faster. The sooner you get out of here, the sooner you can stop embarrassing yourself. And the sooner you can strangle the two bozos masquerading as your friends.Â
Alexia still looks confused but she nods. âI⊠uh, thank you? I think itâs a Nike one. Running shoes.â
Not trusting your mouth to say anything else, you slam it shut. You must look like a madwoman as you nod vigorously.Â
You donât miss the way Alexia gives you a concerned look, but then the barista is calling your name, saving you any more small talk.
A mumbled goodbye and youâre booking it back to your table as fast as you can without spilling any of your drinks.
---
You wish you could say things get better in the following days.
But youâd be a liar if you said that.
So far youâve complimented Alexiaâs club issued shorts, awed over her bare, unpainted nails, have even miraculously asked if she got a haircut (spoiler she did not). Every time you receive a confused look and a tentative thank you, two acts that make the urge to transfer clubs and never show your face again more and more tempting.
None of it amounts to anything until a few days later.Â
Youâre out getting drinks with the rest of your team after a successful game. You yourself had scored two goals, and Keira, ever the best friend she is, wanted to celebrate your first brace with Barca in style.
The first drink didnât even last a whole minute. Keira had no choice but to watch you inhale your cocktail, somehow only managing to choke once. Sheâs lost for words when you also down the shot Mapi slides your way. Reaching across the table, you pick up Keiraâs shot as well, tipping back your head before slamming the cup onto the table.Â
It isnât until youâre reaching for your fourth glass that Keira says something, hand quick to cover the drink before you can lift it.Â
âWoah there, drink a little faster why donât ya?â she teases, a silent question of concern underlying her words.
Shrugging her off, youâre quick to down your third shot. âI need a little bit of liquid courage,â you huff, fighting back a wince at the burn.
âLiquid courage for what?âÂ
Keiraâs question is quick to be answered when a shadow falls over the two of you. Keiraâs hand is quickly replaced with those of your captain, Alexia not looking too amused to see you drinking so much alcohol during the season.Â
âEverything okay over here, chicas?â
She raises an eyebrow, almost daring you to give her a reason to snatch away the only thing keeping you sane at the moment.
Alexiaâs obviously expecting a somewhat coherent explanation from you. Or even a half-assed stringed-along excuse. What she gets instead is--
âWill you go out with me?ïżœïżœ you blurt out, instantly slapping your hands across your mouth the second the words come out.
Alexia pauses, looking at you with wide eyes. From all around, your teammates are choking on their drinks, clearly not expecting you to just blurt it out like that.Â
Unlike their captain, everyone else on the team has been well aware of the affection youâve been holding for the Catalonian. Ingrid has to elbow Mapi in the side to stop her from cackling, Pina in the same boat with Patri, the older woman nearly falling off her chair in laughter. Meanwhile, Alexiaâs mouth opens and closes a couple times as if she canât believe what sheâs hearing.Â
âYou want to⊠go out with me?â She sounds confused, as if she canât comprehend the thought of you being romantically interested in her.Â
Youâre half mortified, half exasperated that you said it the way you did, but youâve shown your cards at this point so you might as well just roll with it.Â
âThis is embarrassing,â you mutter, eyes nervously darting around the room. âIâve been trying to ask you out since like⊠day three of joining Barca.â
An unhelpful snort escapes Keira and she wither as you direct your glare towards her.Â
But the anger is short lived as a soft finger curling under your chin has you raising your eyes back up to Alexia. Your captain looks amused, a small smile starting to settle on her face. âSo you asking about my shoes a couple days ago was you trying to flirt with me?âÂ
The tease causes your face to flush even more red as you wince. âYeah, that didnât really come out the way I intended.â
The quiet laugh Alexia lets out should make you feel even more mortified, but youâre past the point of caring anymore. Now if only Alexia would grant you the mercy of a quick rejection you could finally let go and squash this giant hopeless crush of yours.Â
âIâd love to go on a date with you,â Alexia chuckles, giving your cheek a fond pat. Itâs done mockingly, really, but you canât help but be endeared by the action.Â
âReally?â Youâd be embarrassed by how quick you light up but that would be the least embarrassing thing youâve done all month so really you could care less.
âReally.â
And sure, you definitely see the way Keira halfheartedly slides a euro over to a gleeful Aitana, and yeah, Mapiâs definitely poking fun about how stupidly unsmooth you are but for tonight youâre the luckiest girl in Barcelona.Â
Because you have a date with the Alexia Putellas.Â
And you wouldnât have it any other way.
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