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#then they write OP in their fics and he's just kind of. there. as some random guy
lord-squiggletits · 3 months
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Some of ppl's refusal (or inability) to write IDW OP isn't bc of annoyance or cowardice but just bc they like... don't know his personality? Yknow very "only read MTMTE syndrome" that's so common in this fandom.
Maybe it's bc I'm an IDW OP enjoyer/simp but I really don't get what's hard to write about his personality or why ppl feel the need to throw in continuity soup elements with him (while maintaining every other character in the fic meticulously and lovingly accurate to IDW lore). Like dudes IDW OP is already interesting even if you only need him as a side plot or character you just need to know how to write him.
But I guess people trying to write IDW OP and failing/writing an extremely watered down IDW OP is an improvement from not writing him at all and being annoying hating him in every single public space related (or not related) to Optimus, so it's meh
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thetxtdevil · 10 days
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TXT's Anatomy
Ot5 x Reader NSFW Collection
In a world like Grey's Anatomy, where doctors save lives and then after hours of surgery they fuck their coworkers. How can you not? When they are all kind, smart, and extremely hot...
Devil's Note: Just something that's been collecting dust in my drafts. Maybe if my thoughts are published I'll actually write full fics. Demons you are more than welcome to leave your thoughts on this...
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You - Cardiothoracic Surgeon
Known for pulling at people's heartstrings in and out of surgery. You find yourself getting caught up with 5 of your trusted coworkers.
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Yeonjun - Scrub Nurse
"You need to learn how to respect your nurses." You scoff, "I went through years of school not to be ordered by a nurse." "We'll see about that."
One of the best scrub nurses, Yeonjun, prepares for surgeries well, knows exactly what instrument the surgeon needs even before they call for it. After an argument with you saying he's "just a nurse", dom jjun, puts you in your place.
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Soobin - Pediatric Surgeon
"You'd think taking care of all those sick children you wouldn't want to do anything with making one..." "Sweetheart you couldn't be more wrong."
Can't help but fall for a well put together doctor that treats children. Another breeding kink Soobin fic what else...
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Beomgyu - PACU Nurse
Best thing about post-op is seeing the handsome nurse. "Keep your eyes on your patient not on me, but I am pretty aren't I" Beomgyu winks.
Thanking subby Beomgyu for being such a good nurse for your patients. He needs to get more than a pay check, ya know?
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Taehyun - Orthopedics Surgeon
Is it wrong to drool over the doctor's buff arms every time his tools hits hard on the bone of the patient?
Going through internship, residency, now being full fledged doctors, Taehyun tends to make fun of you because of the many mistakes you made during your learning years. You don't like it of course but he's hot and smart so you deal with it. After Tae talks to his nurse friend, Yeonjun, he now wants some.
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Huening Kai - General Surgeon
"You look like shit" "Yeah I feel like it" "Can I do anything to make you feel better?" "In a doctor way or in a get drunk and do stuff way?"
Kai had a crush on you during their internship and residency years, but he has accepted his fate of just being your friend. That is until you seem a little too close when comforting him after a difficult surgery.
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yayakoishii · 1 year
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Hunger | Sanji x Reader
Sanji x Reader; Fluff...?
No pronouns used but written with a fem reader in mind. Reader is referred to as a woman or lady at times, but nothing else so you can ignore it if you want!
wc: 2.2k
a/n: super super self indulgent, I wrote this in an hour because I was possessed by this sudden overwhelming love for Sanji. honestly, this fic started with a different goal that where it ended but oh well. maybe I'll write another one to fully convey what I started here. this is my first time writing for OP and Sanji so forgive any mistakes and oocness! enjoyyy!!
also available on ao3!
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Sanji didn't know what to think of you.
At first, he had treated you like the other ladies on board and expected you to treat him the same way they did. Except you were different. In your actions, in your words, in your whole being– there was a different kind of softness, warmth and intensity.
It started with you just giving him warm smiles and soft thank yous whenever he brought out a new drink or dish for them to enjoy. The way you always maintained eye contact while doing it left him feeling a little stunned for some reason, and it almost always ended up with him fainting from the loss of blood. And then the way you would be worried over it, even though everyone else just ignored it once he was under Chopper's hands.
You stayed there until he was okay enough to go back to the kitchen. It was just a little thing, but it seemed to squeeze his heart in a painful way.
It was fine with just that, until you started tip-toeing around his territory – the kitchen. He could see you peeking through the door at times, wondering if you wanted something to eat or drink but feeling shy when it came to actually calling you out for it. It was weird– he was being weird around you, but it wasn't his fault. There was something about your ease and quiet around him that made his heart jackhammer in his chest like it was trying to beat his entire life's worth.
So he stayed quiet, pretending not to notice, until you stepped in.
And then he couldn't ignore it anymore.
You sat at the table, just giving him a small smile and nothing else. You didn't say a single word and he couldn't stop himself anymore.
"Did you want something, (y/n)-chan?" He asked gently, just in case you were feeling shy to ask for whatever it was you wanted to eat. But you just shook your head at his words, resting your chin on the backrest of the chair.
"Not really, Sanji-kun," you replied, eyes fixated on his hands, now that he finally realised it. You were looking at the food he was cooking. "I just wanted to watch you cook. Is that okay?"
The blonde chef stood there for a few seconds, stunned silent. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. Why would you want to watch him cook? That would be a waste of your time! But before he could say as such to you, he was stopped by the earnest look in your eyes.
"I promise I won't disturb you!" You said quietly, eyes gleaming with your eagerness. He couldn't say no after that.
"Of course not, sweetheart," he finally replied, flicking his eyes downward so he doesn't keep staring at you. The face you had on was too innocent and bright, and his heart was doing that painful squeeze thingy again. "You could never disturb me."
Wrong. Your presence was very disturbing. In a good way, of course. In a way that made his insides feel like they are convoluting and rearranging themselves. In a way that made his chest feel tight and warm.
Perhaps he should have regretted saying that to you. Because you took it as a blanket permission to watch him cook everyday. You would walk in at random times after breakfast, sometimes with a book where you wrote while he cooked or empty handed like always.
And then you started talking to him.
Asking him curious little questions about the food he was cooking at first. And he would answer them as simply as he could, not wanting to confuse you. Sometimes, he saw you noting things down and wondered if you're learning to cook. But it didn't seem like that, just you and your weird fascination with watching him cook. That was fine. (That was not fine. It made him self-conscious because suddenly, he was wondering if he looked like a mess when he was cooking, something he had never doubted before.)
Then your questions turned to just telling him about random things that happened outside while he worked, or something you read in a book, or a story from your past. You talked to him like you would to any other person, but somehow, in the confines of the kitchen where he usually worked by his lonesome, it all felt doubly intimate and personal. Like you were whispering secrets straight into his ear, seeping into the crevices of his heart one drop at a time.
Somewhere along the line, he realised that he didn't feel that heart pounding feeling around any of the other women. He calmed down around them a little, and was gifted with Nami's concerned yet puzzled looks and Robin's analytical one. He played it off by avoiding the topic smoothly whenever they asked, but even they weren't blind to when this change had started to happen.
You, on the other hand, were oblivious to it. Like always, you stepped into the kitchen with more questions, this time about him, about his interests, and anything he wanted to talk about.
"...if I could go there," he paused when he realised that he had been going on and on about the All Blue for the past ten minutes while he was fluttering around the kitchen, without even seeing if you were listening. His head whipped up, cheeks red with embarrassment, only to find you looking at him intently with wide interested eyes.
And somehow, the usual squeezing feeling in his heart reversed. Now it felt like someone had cut his chest open and left its contents exposed for you to gently pick up and caress in your soft hands.
"Sorry, I rambled there for a bit," his mouth felt dry suddenly. He paused in his cooking to grab himself a glass of water.
"Why are you apologising?" You said cheerfully, scribbling something into your book as usual. "I asked you about it, Sanji-kun!"
"Still," he laughed nervously, wondering if you secretly thought he talked too much. Women liked it better when the man listened to them, right? "You probably didn't want to hear all of… that."
Your brows furrowed and you looked at him with a frown. "Why not?"
Sanji drew the glass away from his lips at your question, feeling a little lost. Did that mean you wanted to listen to him…?
"Isn't it boring for you?" He tried, readying himself to hear you affirm his statement.
"It's not boring at all," you said, shaking your pen in his direction. "You are obviously interested in it. You're passionate about it, like you're about your food, and I think that's wonderful. Hearing someone talk passionately about what they love can never be boring for me. It's like an open window into their hearts."
Sanji's heart jumped in its place at that line, wondering when was the last time someone had tried to look into his heart. He was always the one chasing after the ladies, ready to give his heart but never finding anyone who wanted it. And now you were here, wanting to know what was in his heart, wanting to know him. But what if he wasn't the only one? What if he was deluding himself into thinking that he was special to you?
"Did you ask the others about their dreams too?" He asked, hoping it came off as casually as he had wanted it to. You leaned back in the chair, nodding with a huge smile, not realising the way his heart sank at that.
"Of course I did," you said proudly, holding the book close to your chest. "Luffy gave me a place on this ship even though I had nothing to offer to the crew, just because I had nowhere else and no one else to go to. So I wanted to do something for him, and for you guys. Sanji-kun, can you keep a secret?"
"Anything for you, my love," he said without missing a beat, willing his feelings to stay beneath the surface as always. He didn't notice the way your cheeks pinked at the term, too distracted by his own thoughts.
"I'm trying to write down and compile all of your adventures till now," you stage whispered. That surprised him, and he looked at you, noticing the ink smudges on your fingers that curled around the book you had in your hands. He had noticed the smudges and marks increase over time, but he hadn't known what you were doing until now. "When Luffy becomes the King of Pirates, I want to share these adventures with the world. I want them to know the real people behind it all, not some made-up tyrannical version the Marines paint you as. I know firsthand just how kind and thoughtful every person on this ship is, and I am trying to record it in my own way."
"That's…" Sanji was speechless again. Somehow, you always managed to reduce him to that state. An unpleasant smell invaded his nostrils and he looked down, noticing that he had taken his eyes off the food for too long.
"The food!" You exclaimed, standing up from the chair and hurrying over, your book forgotten behind.
"Stay back, (y/n)-chan!" Sanji warned, not wanting you to accidentally get hurt from the hot pot. You hovered at a distance, clearly wanting to help but also not wanting to create more trouble by mistake. With deft hands, he cleared up everything, transferring the food to a different pot and taking care of the burnt one. "There we go. No need to worry, sweetheart, go sit down."
"I'm sorry," you mumbled. Sanji looked up, confused at the apology.
"What are you apologising for, (y/n)-chan?" He asked kindly, walking over to you. He stood a foot away, hesitant to touch but wanting to comfort you. How would you take it if he touched you? Would you be uncomfortable and push him away? He didn't want that. He never wanted you to feel uncomfortable or sad. Or like you had done anything wrong, when you clearly hadn't.
"I distracted you," you said guiltily, looking up at him with glossy eyes. "I promised I wouldn't."
"Don't be silly, sweetheart," he couldn't hold himself back. His left hand cupped your cheek, right one bringing his handkerchief out with a flourish to wipe away the tears welling up in your eyes. "It's not your fault. I was thinking too much, and I made a mistake."
You continued to stare up at him as he wiped the last of the tears and let go of your cheeks, hoping he hadn't crossed any boundaries.
"Sanji-kun…" Your voice was broken and he looked at you in concern. Had he done something wrong? Said something wrong? "It's unfair. It's so unfair!"
"What is, my love?" He asked, trying to figure out what you were talking about as your lips quivered. You were glaring down at the floor, clearly upset about something.
"You," you whispered. "You're unfair. Your existence is unfair. How can someone this perfect exist?"
And now, the usual hammering of his chest was replaced by his heart going stockstill, as if it was holding a breath too, at your simple words.
"The more I get to know you, the more I understand what a kind, loving and warm person you are," you rambled on, like a dam that's finally burst open. "I wanted to get to know you, more than anyone else onboard. So I lingered around, encouraged myself to talk to you. And then, every moment I spent with you just made me fall more and more in love with you. The way you fold your shirt up to your elbows, the look of concentration on your face when you're cooking, that soft look in your eyes when you're talking about food, the sheer strength in your legs when you're fighting, the immense love and respect you have for food. Every little thing about you just made me fall in love with you and I told myself to stay away, but you make it so hard to not keep coming back. I keep wanting to know more and more about you; it's like a hunger that is never satisfied no matter how much I feed it."
There was pindrop silence in the kitchen when you paused, realised what you had said and froze. Sanji's unlit cigarette fell from his lips as he stared at you, wondering if this was a wild self-torturous dream his brain had thought up to torment him with; except his brain could never imagine the way you were now flushed from head to toe, hiding your face behind widely spaced fingers. Your wide eyes peeked through the gaps, the look of utter mortification on your face visible to him even with the obstacles.
"I'm so sorr–"
He didn't let you finish. Sanji pulled you into a tight embrace, his long fingers finding purchase in the nape of your neck where your hair was. You gasped at the sudden action, heart hammering in tandem with his, suddenly realising in the close proximity that you were not the only one whose heart rate had spiked.
"I could ask you the same question, sweetheart," he wrenched himself away to stare you straight in the eyes. His hand reached back and up to hold your face again. You didn't miss the broken and vulnerable look in his eyes as he whispered the next few words, in a way like it was meant to be heard only by you.
"How can someone so perfect exist?"
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bartxnhood · 2 years
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middle of the night | c.b
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colby brock x fem!reader
word count: 2.8k
summary: sleep is almost nonexistent to you. a darkness takes over your mind, but colby is the light you need.
warnings: best friends to lovers, nightmare & gore scene, reader and colby being so oblivious to their feelings (JUST KISS ALREADY GOD.)
a/n: hi guys !! i’m not too sure what this is but i’ve been meaning to write for colby for a while so this is definitely something. i was slightly inspired by middle of the night by elley duhé (the song and the fic are not related in any way. the song just heavily reminds me of colby?) also, this one is slightly darker than my previous ones so read with caution. 🤍 enjoy !! feedback is appreciated.
requested open
not proofread
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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you didn’t know when the nightmares started, but when they started they never stopped. they kept you up for hours sometimes, other nights you wouldn’t sleep at all.
it was agonizing, you could barely function during the day. you were beyond fatigued and drained. it has been like this for a couple of years now, and maybe you brought it upon yourself as you had messed with some pretty dark stuff when you were younger without the proper knowledge. you always joked to your friends that you were cursed, but as you grew older you started to believe it yourself.
when your close friends decided to take on the mystery of the paranormal you pretty much refused to have anything to do with it. as you were still dealing with the consequences of your younger self. despite your friends begs and pleads you still kept your walls up high. even the thought of going out with them to these locations made you sick.
but, one day kat came to you fully prepared for rejection but she wanted to rest her case.
“y/n, please. i don’t want to be alone” she begged, following you in the hallway of your apartment as you entered your room saying, “you won’t be alone, sam will protect you, and if he doesn’t colby is there for back up” katrina groaned, standing in your doorway. “you know what i mean. i don’t want to be the only girl.” you finally turned around and your eyes met with the girl. she was pleading silently. you ran your hands through your hair letting out a frustrated sigh,” fine. but if i get touched or I'm uncomfortable at all i’m leaving.” katrina grinned, and threw herself into your arms. “thank you so much, y/n.”
so, there you stood filming a video with your three best friends standing inside the conjuring house. you were doomed.
throughout the night, you felt like you were being watched. heavily. but still, you refrained from telling the guys knowing how excited they were to finally experience this. you couldn’t do that, not to colby at least.
ever since it was confirmed that they were going to the infamous house, he was so excited. you loved seeing that light in his eyes glow anytime you’d mention something related to the work he does. he loves what he does.
but, he loves you even more. he wanted nothing more than to make sure you were safe, especially in a place as dark as this home.
when he noticed your unusual behavior, he pulled you over to the side just to make sure you were okay. “are you sure you’re okay?” his hand lingered on your shoulder a bit too long, but you didn’t mind it. “i’m fine, it’s just a lot” you smiled, trying to assure his worries. “okay, well, if it’s gets to be too much let me know. i’m not going to force you to do this.” he was so kind to you. you nodded, “i know, now let’s go back before they start to miss us”
unfortunately, that night was when colby found out about your night terrors.
it was the early hours of the morning when you arrived back at the hotel, you bid goodnight to your friends and went to your room. both sam and cat, colby had rooms next to you so you were all close by.
you opened your eyes, finding yourself in a dark room. no sound, no light, no sense of anything in this room. just a void. you tried searching for anything just to get out. until out of the corner of your eye you see a tall creature lurking, its jaws unhinged comically, its teeth like a leech, beckoning you closer to its open maw, drool lolled out of its mouth, pooling at the floor.
“no..” you breathed, tears brimming your eyes as your breath thickened. “no!” you screamed. “y/n!!” you heard panicked screams calling out your name and your head whipped around seeing your friends. “no!! run!!” you yelled back, but it was far too late.
your friends scream in terror but make no effort to move as the beast grabs them, tearing into them, blood and entrails hit the floor, splattering onto your face. you were breathless, screaming colby’s name.
you jolted up, gasping for breath as your chest began to loosen. you were covered in sweat, tears staining your cheeks. the loud pounding at your door brought you out of your daze. “y/n?! it’s me, i heard screaming are you alright?” it was colby, you threw off the blankets and walked to your door, unlocked it, and then opened it to reveal a very worried colby.
when he first saw you, his gaze softened realizing that you were okay but then he saw you had been crying, your breathing was shallow and sweat pooled on your forehead. “what is it? what happened?” “nightmare” you croaked, he saw how shaken you were so he entered the room, closing the door behind him.
“shh. you’re okay.” his arms wrapped around you, but his touch only made you cry harder. the fresh image of him being ripped apart was still fresh in your mind. “it’s okay, i’m right here” colby gently rubbed your back, feeling your heaves.
his heart was aching, seeing you in so much pain. colby didn’t expect you to tell him what happened in your nightmare, all he was focusing on was being there for you. “will you stay with me, tonight?“ your voice hoarse from the screaming, you pulled away from his chest looking up at him. “just until i fall asleep.” colby nodded, “of course. i’ll be right by your side”
colby stayed up all night, making sure that if you needed him he was there. plus, it gave him the excuse to admire you. every crease in your skin, the way your eyebrows furrowed as you dream. he wanted nothing more than to hold you tightly, and never let anything harm you again. even the nightmares, he would find a way to stop those. even if it killed him. he never felt like this around anyone, only you. it’s always been you.
that was the best sleep you’d had in years, it has been so long since you had felt this refreshed. you were in the best mood, and everyone noticed but you only said you had a good sleep.
when arriving home, your friends dropped you off at your apartment but colby insisted on walking you in. and who are you to deny him?
“thank you again for last night.” you set your bags on your sofa, and he shook his head. “anything you need, i’m your man” you smiled, “still, it was just a lot. so thank you” “of course, y/n” colby hugged you, squeezed you tightly then pulled away. “call me, text me, or just somehow get in touch with me if it happens again. i’ll be here.” “i’m serious” he added
colby was serious, he cared for you deeply probably more than he should but he didn’t care. “i will, i promise” you grinned. there it was. that grin. it always made him feel fuzzy inside. “good” he nodded.
your thumb hovered over colby’s contact, debating with yourself if you should call him or just try to sleep again. after fighting with yourself, you finally pressed call and held the phone to your ear.
“y/n?” he answered, his voice sounding groggy. you must’ve woken him up. “did i wake you up?” “yeah, but it’s okay. what’s up?” you felt bad, you didn’t mean to wake him up. “i’m fine, just forget about it.”
he stopped you, “was it about her nightmare?” you sighed, “yeah.” “do you need me to come over?” he offered. “no, i’m okay really. just scared me.” “i can come over, i don’t mind at all.” “colby..” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “i’ll be there in fifteen.”
then, it became a routine. colby spent most of his time at your apartment, not that he didn’t mind, he enjoyed it. it was an excuse for him to see you twenty-four seven. but with his presence, somehow the terrors stopped. when colby was around you felt relaxed, you could rest. you’d lay on the sofa while he sat and watched your tv, or you were in bed and he was right next to you.
at night, when you couldn’t sleep colby, was still by your side. if he was working on editing videos you’d sit up with him and have a movie on in the background. or, if the both of you had nothing to do, you would just talk. talk until the early hours of the morning about anything. from childhood memories to what you two wanted to do in your future.
but one night, colby finally asked why you never wanted to do the investigations with him.
“i just know how bad they can get” you shrugged. he nodded, “i agree, but we always take our precautions. you know i wouldn’t let anything happen to you, y/n” there they were again. those damn butterflies. you nodded, “i know, colbs” you took a deep breath, sitting up. you figured it was better now than never to tell him.
“when i was younger, i went out with some friends to this haunted place. it was dark. like, very dark. and after that…the nightmares started.” you picked at your nails. “it’s the same one, every time. you, sam, and kat. this…thing is there. it’s tall, black and it’s just inhuman. it tries to attack me. but you guys are yelling, telling me to run, and then it..” you pause, you felt heat rush to your cheeks and your eyes started to tear up. “it rips you to pieces..right in front of me..” your voice was breaking as you explained.
he pulled you into his arms as you teared up. “it’s okay. i’m right here, i’m not going anywhere.” he rubbed your back “i promise. you’re safe, i’m safe. i’ll be here, any time, any day, i will come to you”
colby became the one person you relied on, he became your rock.
then he disappeared. vanished. he should’ve said no to her, you needed him. he was supposed to be there, he saw your messages but he was too drunk to help you.
colby regretted that night, he saw your desperation but he couldn’t be there. she wouldn’t let him. he didn’t even know why he continued to see the girl, maybe he thought it was the only way he could ever get over you. but when you stopped texting he thought you were okay now. maybe you didn’t need him after all.
but he was wrong.
your night terrors we’re getting worse, some nights you didn’t sleep at all. you tried all kinds of medication to see if it would relieve your pain. but it didn’t. one night, the dream was bad. worse than it had ever been.
you tried messaging colby, calling him a few times but he wasn’t answering. maybe he was sleeping. whatever it was you’d be okay, you knew you needed to stop being dependent on him. you were a big girl, you had to learn how to deal with your issues.
“hey, kat..” you breathed, picking at your lips. “i know it’s kinda late, but have you heard from colby?” you decided to call up katrina in hopes she could ease your anxiety. “yeah, he said he was going out tonight. a date or something.” “oh..” you hummed, “is everything okay? you sound awful.” she stated. “yeah, i’m good. just needed to tell him something. thanks, kat. i’ll see you soon” you hung up the phone, tossing it on the bed.
why did your heart hurt so much? why did you want to cry your eyes out so badly? you never realized your feeling for colby.
oh god. you loved him. you were in love with colby brock.
no, you couldn’t possibly be in love with him. that’s stupid, you guys were just friends..right? friends took care of each other…friends shared a bed occasionally..right?
you didn’t know how to deal with your feelings, you couldn’t tell him now as he was actively seeing someone or dating. you slowly began to disappear from the picture. maybe if you weren’t around him so much those feelings would slowly fade.
you were wrong.
colby on the other hand was missing you. the date didn’t work out. he wasn’t sure why he even tried dating when he was head over heels for you. maybe he did it not knowing how you felt about him, but now he’s never going to know. you had disappeared, ignoring everyone’s texts and calls. it was very concerning, especially for colby knowing how your night terrors affect your daily life.
everyone started to notice your absence, and it was only a matter of time before sam and katrina persuaded him to finally check in on you.
“you’re the closest to her, colby. it would only make sense if you go” sam argued looking at the brunette boy standing above him. “listen to him, colby” katrina agreed. “guys-“ the girl cut him off. “no, colby. it’s bad. she called me one night when you were out, she sounded like she had been crying. her voice was hoarse. whatever is happening, it’s bad”
that was the push he needed. colby had to see you.
you haven’t slept in a very long time the nightmares have been worse than ever and it has been going on for an unhealthily long time. you look absolutely run down and it’s getting hard to function. some nights you just refused to sleep, it was better to stay awake than to meet the monster occupying your brain. you were sure you had memorized every crack and crevice in your ceiling. you lay lifeless on the sofa, the silence was deafening. you were miserable.
you weren’t sure how long someone was pounding at your door, but you had finally come to your sense and had to answer it. you rose slowly from your position already feeling a migraine forming.
you weren’t expecting to see colby, he was the last person who you thought would show up. “colby..” you uttered.
colby didn’t know what to expect when you opened the door. but, when he saw you he felt sick. your hair was tied up but messy, and your eyes were black and whites bloodshot.
“oh my god y/n…” he croaked, entering your apartment. you sighed, you couldn’t face him. you didn’t want him to see you like this. at your worst. “how much sleep have you been getting?” you shrug, hugging yourself. “an hour” he blinks “a night?” “…this week” the color washed from his face, and he felt dizzy.
he wanted to cry, hold you tightly and apologize for all the pain you’re going through. “why y/n? why are you doing this?” he reached for your shoulder. you reply, “the nightmares are too much. i can’t keep going thru that” he shakes his head, studying you. “why didn’t you tell me?” “i tried, but kat told me you were out on a date and i didn’t want to both you because this is my problem. i need to learn how to go deal with it on my own”
“ y/n l/n, i told you to come to me whenever you were struggling. i care about you.” you finally faced him, you didn’t know what else to say. colby continued, “out of everyone in my life i’ll always care about you most” you feel yourself beginning to tear up, the lady of sleep was taking a toll on your body.
colby gently pulls you into a hug. “i’m so tired. i just want to sleep without being scared” you cry into his chest. he soothes your cries. “you need to sleep, y/n.” you shake your head against his chest, “i cant.” “ill be with you, kay? like old times” he offered, you were reluctant but he lead you to your bedroom and got your bed ready. which hadn’t been slept in for a long while.
your head rested against colby’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. he whispers “i’m sorry. i should’ve been here” “not your fault” you hummed, closing your heavy eyes. he rubbed you back gently, you didn’t know if you were just extremely tired or if your feelings for colby were resurfacing again. “i love you, colby” you paused, “i’m in love with you colby brock.”
colby wasn’t able to get a word in, because when he tried to he noticed how your breathing evened out and you were already fast asleep. his heart was now racing, you loved him? you were in love with him? he smiled to himself, kissing the top of your head. “i love you too, y/n.”
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spookitapes · 1 year
Note
Hello, i love your fics! Im a bit embarassed but i had an idea earlier today. Imagine beig on a relationship with Ted while hes a trip visiting every margaritaville or rain forest, whatever you prefer and you miss him a lot so when you can finally go visit him on the trip he shows you how much he missed you by fucking you so good you barely walk the next day. Okay thats all, thank you bye!
a/n: oh my gosh don't be embarrassed! pls send me more stuff I love it !!! and thank you so much for the support< 33 it's mainly RFC buuuut i did a little bonus of margaitaville ft. schlatt at the end :))) sorry it took me a minute to see this in my inbox!! but I hope you enjoy it bc this was actually super fun to write !!
!! 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI !!
surprising ted on his rainforest cafe roadtrip hc's
❧ getting the trip schedule from eddy so you can pick which days works best for you
❧ planning it weeks before they even leave
❧ ted having literally no clue what’s happening
❧ stuffing his face with safari fries when he hears an all too familiar “teddy!” coming from behind him
❧ thinking he’s finally going crazy bc why is he imagining your voice amongst the animatronic themed restaurant's ambiance ??
❧ almost tackling him out of his chair when you finally reach him bc you didn’t realize you were full-on sprinting in the rainforest cafe
❧ a very sweet reunion that takes ted entirely by surprise
❧ (don't worry eddy gets a good angle) it's some nice behind-the-scenes footage for you two :))
❧ “jesus christ honey i didn’t know you’re that strong!”
❧ ted laying his head on your shoulder anytime he can
❧ sharing a sparkling volcano for the memory of it
❧ getting back to the hotel and making out in the elevator on the way to the room you booked
❧ him immediately pinning you to the door when it closes
❧ he's missed you so much
❧ missed your body so much
❧ he'd been having to take cold showers
❧ and that worked until he found the nude polaroids you had left him in his luggage
❧ he's been reduced to jerking off, switching to hot steam instead of a standing ice bath
❧ so you can't really blame him for taking you right there
❧ stripping you of only what's necessary
❧ if your wearing jeans? gone. pants of any kind? bye bye. shorts? across the room...but a dress or a skirt? he's just pushing it up your hips
❧ pulling your panties to the side (if you're wearing any op-)
❧ hiking one of your legs up onto his hip as he barely gets his cock out of his pants before pushing into you
❧ both of you letting out a gasp as he bottoms out
❧ him holding your hand against the door with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other
❧ eventually bringing your leg around his hip up over his shoulder so he can hit deeper
❧ him fucking you so rough the do not disturb sign's swinging on the other side of the door
❧ once you both cum he'll carry you over to the bed so he can finish stripping you
❧ slowly peeling the clothes away as he kisses your skin that appears
❧ him pushing your face into the sheets to muffle the porn star level moans leaving your mouth
❧ "god baby, you're gonna get us kicked out if you keep screaming like that."
❧ but how can you stay quiet when he's balls deep drilling you from the back giving you the best dick of your life ??
❧ him getting fed up so he puts one of his big ass hands over your mouth as he fucks you harder
❧ just the sounds of skin on skin slapping, ted's groans, and your muffled sobs fill the room
❧ going at least three more rounds before he's carrying you to the bathtub to clean you up
❧ begging him to get in with you and getting him to after pulling out the big eyes and jutted out bottom lip combo
❧ scooting up so he can slide in behind you
❧ just holding each other in the warm bubbley water
❧ "i love you so much baby, remind me to never go on a trip without you again."
❧ it's followed with a tender kiss on your forehead
❧ you pause a moment before shifting your head so you can catch his eyes, a smile overtaking your features
❧ he thinks you're gonna say something sappy, something that'll probably make you tear up
❧ "you can go on as many trips as you want if that's how you're gonna fuck me."
❧ he splashes you with the bath water...
❧ the next day he's calling you to hurry up and get ready, something about needing to be back on the road
❧ he gets met with a long, loud, angry groan in return
❧ "uuhhhh honey, you alright?"
❧ him being met with your pouty face looking up from the mound of pillow you had it buried in
"i don't wanna talk to you. you did this to me!"
❧ he's about to question you before you throw your legs off the side and go to stand...only to go tumbling over before ted leaps across the room to save you
❧"your hero," he's smirking down at you, hands around your back and hip as you dangle mid-air
❧ "...more like my murderer." you murmur it out
❧ "oh and who exactly did i kill? you look alive to me."
❧ "MY WHOLE LOWER BODY YOU BIGDICK ASSHOLE!"
(bonus)
you two definitely fuck at jschlatt's during margaritaville
❧ setting it up with schlatt bc you promise him a gift (WINK)
❧ you jump out and surprise them when they get to schlat't's place
❧ him almost tackling you this time
❧ "i fuckin' told ya! HA mother fucker now you owe me $50!" schlatt's laughing maniacally as usual
❧ ted fucking you in front of schlatt as a thank you for the surprise
❧ "this is way fuckin' better than on facetime." (read my other work to get the refrenceeeee)
❧ making you ride him as schlatt records it on ted's phone
❧ reverse cowgirl to get good angles of your pretty face and so ted can watch your greedy hole swallow up his big cock
❧ schlatt shoving the camera in your face when you start getting sloppy, thighs burning from riding your lover for so long
❧ "go on and look at me, angel," he's using his free hand to grip your throat to look at him but your eyes are still closed
❧ ted's interrupting him for a second, "do ya wanna cum? keep on bouncin' then. I'll rub your slutty lil clit if you keep takin' my dick so good."
❧ "be a good little bitch and smile for the camera—thaaaaat's it, honey."
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Text
The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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Hey, Jealousy
summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, SMUT HEAVY CHAPTER, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: HELLO ALL! It's been a minute! This fic isn't going anywhere by any means, just had a bit of writer's block and lack of motivation to write for a bite lol. A special thank you to @lethalchiralium for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>
“This is your target. Memorize it.” John paused as the surveillance photo of their target, a dark-haired woman with almond-shaped eyes, made its way between the trio. He placed a black cell phone in the center of the table while Soap regarded the image. “Freyja, you’re the best pickpocket out of all of us. Your task is to lift her phone and swap it out with the duplicate. Rumor has it there’s a major weapon’s deal rearing up, and I want to know when and where.”
Taking a moment to examine the photo now pinched between her thumb and forefinger, Freyja raised a brow. While she wasn’t one to judge solely based on appearances (a tactic she relied upon herself many times), the woman pictured looked far from an arms dealer. She seemed fairly young. “She has the details?”
Price nodded and partially sat on the table, arms crossed over his chair. “She’s the buyer. Rather unassuming, I know, but our intel is good.”
“Bloody hell,” Ghost mumbled, leaning into her space to sneak a peek. “They just keep gettin’ younger and younger…”
“Ah dinnae mean to be rude, but Ghost’s no’ exactly inconspicuous. A bit hard nae tae notice a giant with headgear at a social event.”
A fair point. Ghost was the tallest member of the team outside of König.
“Which is why you will be partnered with the Captain.” Freyja didn’t miss how her husband’s watchful gaze flickered between her and her co-captain. “You’ll have to couple it up to blend in; a single woman at an event like this would draw suspicion. Ghost will be going undercover as security detail and watch your six.”
“Me? Are ye sure, Captain?”
“Affirmative, Sergeant. I’d rather not have another incident like last time.”
“Last time?” Johnny looked between them. “What happened last time?”
THEN
It should’ve been a simple task, really. A pretty young woman lures a gullible, unsuspecting new hire to a roped-off room with certain expectations, only to be met with the cold steel of a knife to their throat.
As expected, the information burst from the young man’s lips like water through a broken dam, hoping to save his own skin. The quick execution Ghost offered was a mercy compared to what would happen if his boss found out he had snitched.
He could be merciful when he wanted to be.
The Simon she married was not a jealous man. A younger Ghost, at the beginning of their… “situationship”, however…
After the body was stuffed in the room’s closet, hopefully not to be found until at least the next day, he wasted no time hoisting Freyja up against a wall with ease and fucking her senseless. Her legs tightened around his waist immediately, her Venetian mask coming loose at the sudden movement and falling to the floor.
“Yes, right there. Hah, hah, nngh-”
“See what you do to me?” he growled against her cheek, hips snapping against her shaking thighs. “Can’t even get through a fucking mission without my cock gettin’ hard, and you’re over there, actin’ like a slag. Touchin’ that bastard like that-”
“I was just - doing - my job-”
Ghost’s brutal pace stopped and pinned her to the wall. One hand no longer supporting her weight, jumped from her ass to her throat, the bare, calloused skin squeezing the sides. 
“You took it too far. I should leave you high and dry for the show you put on.”
Her fingers scratched at the short hair near the base of his neck, earning a warning sound from the man. Freyja wriggled her hips to find some kind of friction, a release. “Fuck fuck fuck – please, Ghost, don’t stop. Make me come, please–”
“Yeah? Y’want me to make you come?”
“Yes, yes, please! Please, I need to come–”
“Have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes! I’m sorry, so sorry! Fuck me!”
“You’re fuckin’ lucky I’m feelin’ forgiving.”
“Oh shit, thank you, thank you, I’m sorry–”
“You’d better be.”
NOW
The sergeant looked between Price and the couple, studying Price’s lifted brow and Freyja’s pressed lips and flushed skin. Ghost snorted beside her, which got him a sharp jab from his wife’s elbow.
“Bunch o’ rabbits, you two!” he snickered, laughing into his fist. Just how they managed to bone in the field so often, he’d never know. “It’s a miracle ye don’t have a thousand wee bairns by now.”
“Could’ve had them discharged for the mess I had to listen to.” 
“We said we’re sorry!”
“No, you said you were sorry. I won’t apologize if I don’t mean it.”
“I’m going to kill you–”
John cut them off, standing again and collecting his paperwork. “The target rarely comes out of hiding, so we can’t risk spooking her. Freyja, Soap, you’d better sell it.”
“Oh, I’ll make it believable, a’right.”
“And if somehow you find a way around this arrangement – please, for the love of God, no shagging on the job,” Price stressed, pointing at each of them for emphasis. “Got it?”
Johnny raised his hand.  “Ah would just like tae point out that, for once, I’m the good egg here,” he pointed out with a wide grin.
Multiple sets of eyes rolled. “Right then. Dapper up. I’ll see you all tonight.”
Ecstatic about their upcoming mission, the Scot jumped up from his seat, still beaming. He was already bubbling with ideas for their strategy, the backstory of the characters they would play, what he was going to wear–
“Johnny.”
“Sir?”
Ghost leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees as he looked up at the man. “Remember what I said about flirtin’ with my wife?”
“Aye.”
“Still in effect.”
.
.
.
Soap made it his mission to be as handsy as humanly possible the moment they stepped out of their vehicle. Ever the gentleman, he stuck behind Freyja when taking the steps up the grandiose front stairs into the venue; once at the top, his hand slipped across her lower back from one hip to the next.
Both operators kept their attire simple yet appropriate for the dress code. They complimented each other nicely; Johnny sported a simple black suit and a white collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, while Freyja donned a rich, dark purple, satin gown with an open back dipping to her tailbone. They were meant to fit in, not draw attention to themselves.
When they entered the ballroom, crystal chandeliers twinkling above, she glanced around the perimeter at the masked guards. Only taking in their stature for a second before moving on to the next, attempting to locate their backup –
There.
Ghost blended in seamlessly, dressed exactly like the other guards stationed around the room. All black ensemble, black combat boots, and a balaclava with a window for the eyes. They met briefly with Frey’s before she shifted her gaze up to her date, placing one hand on top of his at her side, the other between his shoulder blades.
All night, Ghost’s stare could have burned a hole through her skin straight down to her soul as her partner positively manhandled her. Nothing was safe. Her ass, hips, bare shoulders, and stomach were frequently groped, pinched, and caressed; you name it, Sergeant MacTavish did it. He came up from behind with a champagne flute for her, pressing against her as his hands snaked around to cradle her belly. Kissing obviously wasn’t off the table, his warm lips frequently finding hers; he had enough decency to keep that portion of the night brief.
Finally, after an hour and a half of loving it up with her husband’s best friend, Johnny turned Freyja into a pillar, forcing her to squeak in surprise. Gentle kisses pecked from her collar up to her ear, using his body as a shield.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered, keeping up the appearance of a drunk, handsy couple by carding her fingers through the back of his mohawk.
He chuckled against her hair. “That’s the idea, Hen. Figure one o’ us should get a good fuck outta tonight.” Frey rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to shove him. “Eyes on the target. She’s had a chance tae get settled. Move in on yer mark.”
She followed his guidance, subtle pressure at the base of her skull pointing her in the direction of their target. Thankfully, a small purse dangled by the woman’s pelvis on a long chain, ripe for the picking. If all went according to plan, Soap would walk them into each other, allowing her to switch the dummy in his pocket with the real thing.
Freyja initiated their objective by stepping in that direction but allowed her companion to take the lead. Clinging to his bicep and stumbling slightly, she whined, “You are in so much trouble when we get home!”
“Aw, c’mon Bonnie! Ah just cannae help myself!” he purred, bending to nibble her ear and give her a reason to jerk away.
“Hey, stop that!” As she lunged to the left, she fell out of the Sergeant’s grasp and into the young woman, grabbing her to keep upright. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”
“What the fuck!” She wheeled on them, eyes wide at the sudden intrusion into her conversation. “Watch where you’re going!”
Freyja huffed angrily in Johnny’s direction, straightening herself and her dress. “I am so sorry about him. You know how men can be. Always impatient.”
“Unfortunately,” the woman mumbled, nose turned up in disgust. If Freyja could rely on anything, she could always lean on most women’s mutual distaste for men. While it always felt distasteful to manipulate while undercover, it got the job done.
With a soft huff, Freyja grabbed Soap’s hand again and departed with a soft wave, tugging him toward their exit point. Ghost was nowhere in sight.
According to plan, the Brit had dipped into the women’s bathroom when he was sure the lift was successful, and they would eventually follow. Going into the bathroom after two people clearly looking for a space to hook up would look suspicious. The real trick was leaving enough time between their entrances that nobody would notice, without waiting too long for the other guards to notice Ghost’s absence.
She used her best high-pitched, giggling squeal and ditzy movements, swatting at the wandering hands pawing at the shiny, smooth material of her outfit. It had been at least two minutes since Ghost had disappeared, and she decided that was enough leeway for them to follow without raising any alarms. But just as her palm pressed against the cool doorknob, her ally stopped behind her.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Freyja felt the abdominal muscles under Soap’s shirt tense; otherwise, his composure remained unchanged. “Sorry?” he asked with a laugh, keeping his body turned toward her. She refrained from ripping the stranger’s hand off Johnny’s shoulder and ripping back his ring finger–
The man smiled, perfect white teeth nearly sparkling in the light. “Ye owe meh a drink! C’mon, one more shot fur a fellow Scotsman?”
“Shite! Ah completely forgot!” Johnny hovered over her still and bent to run his nose along the shell of her ear. “Ah’ll be right behind ye. Just give me a fiver to finish my drink, aye?”
“Sure thing.” Freyja hung her hands on the lapels of his jacket, anchoring him in place to stretch and purr in his ear, “Don’t take too long.”
She was so fucking dead when they got home. Likely won’t walk right for days.
Barely halfway through the door, a firm grip pulled her into the room, slammed the door shut with her body, then wrapped around her throat. Her heels brought her just a bit closer to her husband’s height, brown eyes practically set ablaze. Ghost had abandoned his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his button-down, exposing the black ink on one forearm.
I should put in for a day or two off.
“Did you not learn your lesson last time?” Ghost asked, low-pitched and gravelly as if he had been restraining himself for hours. He probably had been. “Must’ve been too generous. Let’s try this again.” A man on a mission, he swiftly twisted the lock on the handle and hauled her with him several steps away from the door before forcing Freyja to her knees. His touch moved to cup her jaw.
“Broke my fucking finger watching him touch you, touch what’s mine. This mouth-” His digits snatched her cheeks, making her painted lips purse with a soft whimper. “-is mine. Your cunt is mine. Your body is mine – facts you’ve apparently forgotten. Let me remind you.”
Freyja gulped helplessly when his other hand slid the leather strap of his belt out of the buckle, then looked up at him through her mascara-coated lashes.
“Soap-“
“I. Don’t. Care. Do it.”
Her cheeks were enflamed under her blush, but she still raised a brow at him. Again, Simon wasn’t known to be a jealous man; they were very secure in their relationship, trusting each other completely. Plus, Johnny was in a committed, loving relationship, after all. But still, watching his best friend all over her, purposefully egging him on and pushing boundaries…
Anyone would lose their patience.
Her nails, painted to match her color scheme for the evening, worked at undoing his slacks and dropping them and his underwear down enough to free his already hard member. Slacks which, by the way, were fitted perfectly to hug his ungodly figure. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight, her hole already clenching around nothing. 
As if he had read her mind, Ghost seized the back of her head and snarled, “I’m beginning to lose my patience, love.”
Suddenly he was buried down her throat, to the hilt. Tears sprang to her eyes; she moved to dig into his thighs for purchase, which earned her additional pressure at the back of her head. “No touching.”
All Freyja could do was blink up at him and hold her hands behind her back, hoping he understood the message. Thankfully, he let up and slowly drew out before easing back in, fucking her throat with soft moans and the occasional curse. Ghost groaned at the sight of his precum and her spit gathering in his blond curlies, her dark lipstick smudging on his cock, tear streaks running lines in her makeup…
She flattened her tongue, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm while breathing through her nose and intermittently taking him until her nose was enshrouded in coarse hair. Even if she wasn’t getting off, and Ghost’s pretty face was hidden by his mask, the expressions in his eyes as she edged him toward his release were almost as satisfying.
“Fuck, you like that?” he questioned, hoarse and needy. “Almost like you were – hngh, shit – hoping I’d p-punish you.”
Even submissive, vulnerable on her knees before him and choking on his cock, Freyja still made him stutter and whimper. How many hours had he spent uncomfortably hard, keeping his dutiful post as their backup? Observing the near obscene show Soap had put on?
Ghost leaned his torso forward, supporting his weight against the wall with his free hand. He didn’t have to tell her he was close; even with his controlled breathing, his eyes threatening to flutter shut was a dead giveaway. Still, the head of his cock popped out of her mouth, garnering her attention again.
“How much of me can you take?”
“All of it.”
“Bloody hell…” He presented himself again, the hooded tip resting against her lips. “Lick.”
She immediately ducked under him and laid her tongue against the vein on the underside of his dick, applying soft, slow pressure to the tip again before taking him back in her mouth. Freyja picked up the speed and hummed around him, pushing (or rather, pulling) him closer and closer…
“Fucking shit – take it, take it, take it–”
His warm cum spilled down her throat, but she continued slowly guiding Ghost through his orgasm as he pulsated and huffed quietly above her. Freyja basked in the way he flinched, eyes closed as her touch bordered on overstimulating and torturous.
Satisfied and out of breath, Ghost jerked his hips away to avoid any more of her touch and offered his wife his hands. She immediately took them and was pulled to her feet effortlessly with a moment to find her balance. When he was finished tucking himself back into his trousers and fastening his belt again, Ghost slid the delicate strap of her dress that had slipped off her shoulder back into place, his gentle touch dragging across her skin.
Freyja was about to speak when the door rattled, someone trying to open it before they both heard a familiar accent on the other side. “Bonnie? ‘S me, open up.”
She gestured for him to stand out of sight for a moment while she unlocked the door and opened it just enough to let Soap in, careful not to expose her current state to others who may be watching from the party. When it was closed and secured again, Johnny took in their appearances; Freyja, clearly dazed with her hair tousled and makeup smudged, and Ghost, with his fly down, shirt untucked, and blazer tossed carelessly onto the sink.
Then, with the absolute, most shit-eating grin, said, “Ye’r welcome, Hen.”
taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67
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chuuyasheaven · 2 years
Note
I hate to bother you but I was wondering if I could make a request for kinks 2 and 9 with the quotes from 5 and 15. For the characters I was hoping for Dazai and either chuuya or fyodor, you can pick the other member to join.
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Prompt+K!nk; 5: “If you want it so badly, beg for it. I want to hear your voice, dear.” / 15: “I will fuck this pussy until it’s dripping my cum, understood?” [ + ] 2: degradation k!nk/ 9: Threesome.
Summary; Fyodor decided to share you with Dazai for once! (they both fuck you dumb) :3
Warnings; dom!Dazai, dom!Fyodor, sub!gn!Reader(they/them, has afab parts), threesome, degrading k!nk, dirty talk, overstimulation, petnames, Reader’s dating Fyodor, pw/op (porn without plot), spanking (kinda), dumbification, lazy, etc.
Format; drabble/short fic! (I’m not sure)
Notes (from me); NO YOU AREN’T BOTHERING ME, I WANNA WRITE THIS IT SOUNDS FUN!!! ANYWAYS ENJOY MY LUVS!! 💪🏾😍
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Normally, Fyodor doesn’t share, especially you. It depends on the person too, so why would he share you, with one of his biggest enemies, Dazai Osamu?
Or to be more specific, share you and your cunt?
Right now, Dazai was pounding into you from behind, while you were sucking of Fyodor.
Now why did he share? You don’t know, but you actually don’t mind. Being fucked from the front and the behind was attractive as hell.
It was amazing, honestly, but also overwhelming. So overwhelming, that your were slowly losing the ability to talk.
“So, darling, are you enjoying yourself?”, Fyodor asked with a smirk on his lips, you couldn’t answer right now, since he stuffed your mouth with his cock.
You felt a spank against your ass, as Dazai repeated Fyodor’s question.
“He asked you a question, bella, wouldn’t it be nice to answer?”, you let out a “mhm..!” as a quick response.
You tasted Fyodor’s precum in your mouth, guessing he was nearing his orgasm, just like you.
Your moans sent vibrations to Fedya’s cock, making his knot snap faster.
“That’s right, dove, keep sucking me off like the slut you are.”, come on, you actually get off by him calling you slut?
“Seems like they love being called a whore, Fyodor. I can feel them clenching around me..”, Dazai was right, you hugged his cock perfectly with your walls.
Finally, Fyodor’s cum spilled down your throat, you let go with a ‹pop!›, connecting his tip with his cum mixed with your spit.
He kissed you lightly on your lips, holding your chin, letting go of it to watch your upper body collapse onto the bed.
As that happened, you coated Dazai’s cock with your essence, but he still wasn’t done.
“C-can’t go on, Fedya..t’much..”, you claimed, kind of exhausted.
“Why tell me? It’s not my turn yet, so it’s not my problem, darling.”,you gathered the strength that was left.
“D-dazai..p-please, can’t hold on f-for longer..”, you heard Dazai chuckle.
“I know you can handle it, besides I’m not done yet, so take it, slut. Because, i will fuck this pussy until it’s dripping my cum, understood?”, he must’ve been good in dirty talk.
After the last thrusts, he filled your hole with his cum. Now your whole body is laying on the bed, with some of Dazai’s cum spilling.
Just after you let a sigh slip from your lips, you felt Fyodor’s tip tease your hole.
“Now, we can’t have you filled with just his cum, do we? Don’t you wanna be fucked like the whore you are?”, Just like that, he got you wet and desperate all again, just for him. You nodded fast as soon when he finished his sentence.
Fedya was chuckling to himself, “Oh? Weren’t you exhausted? But, if you want it so badly, beg for it. I want to hear your voice, dear.”
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Trust me, i might edit it in the future to be longer, but for now enjoy!! 😭
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weldingmetal · 9 months
Text
Possible fic ideas for transformers
So like I have a few ideas for some docs I want to do so I am just gonna voice them here.
Most of these are Megop fic ideas so bare with me.
Megs Reincarnated
So like what if at some point in the war Megatron died but because he was on space crack he couldn’t join the allspark/well so Primus sent his spark to live again in the hopes that over time his spark would be purged overtime. Megs becomes a human woman and eventually meet Optimus. Hijinks ensues.
I also thought about doing a shattered glass version of this as well.
After Primasy
So what if Optimus met Megatron after he became a prime. This was inspired by two fic I saw on Ao3. I can’t remember what they were called but I will write the names when I can.
Miko Plays Cupid
After Miko gets captured by Megs she learns things about before the war but things don’t add up. After she is rescued and asks Op some things she realizes that there were some major misunderstandings that were and still are the cause of the continuing war. So she decided that the best way to resolve this was to play match maker. What could go wrong.
Can You Feel It Shockwave?
What if Shockwaves emotions canes back after an experiment gone wrong? I have a theory that shadowplay didn’t take away everything but left what emotion he had that was strongest, a sick and twisted form of curiosity and everything else was repressed. Then what happens when he gets them back? I plan for this to be very angsty. Can’t comfort them unless they’re broken right?
Twelve Kids, Twelve Primes
What if team prime had twelve kids to care for and through some kind of hijinks they found out that the kids were twelve reincarnated primes.
Some smaller fic ideas include
G1 bots finding out humans have valves/spikes
Bots finding out about car washes
Miko being a little troublemaker and adopting all the vehicons
Soundwave making a soundboard
Stabby by the roomba. Enough said.
Bots finding out about nuclear weapons and atom bombs.
Bots finding out humans can feel when you look at them.
Now if you want to use any of theses all I ask is that you tag or tell me so I can look over the counter as you use my fic recipes to create delicious fics that I will grab and consume like a feral animal.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years
Note
Do you write nsfw fics? If so could you write a Price x Reader based off the song “Guys My Age” by Hey Violet please and thank you :)
Lustful Gold and a Crimson-Stained Tongue
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Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: It was supposed to be simple -- an intel Op. in some Russian Arms Dealer's mansion. Hell, you were actually looking forward to it, especially with the way John was undressing you with his eyes. You hoped that the red silk dress you had gotten made it through the night. (18+)
Word Count: 9.9k
Warnings: Attempted SA, NSFW, Porn with Plot, smut, angst, fluff, praise kink, blood kink (?) (Not really but Idk), saliva, lots of fluids, P in V, dry humping, age gap
A/N: This is literally a virgin writing smut for the first time so it's legally obligated to be cringe -- but thank you for giving me the opportunity (I've crossed a line that I can't go back over). I took a bit of creative liberty with the request, so it's slightly different than what you might expect. Anyways, enjoy, Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
“Tilt your head to the side for me, Love,” John mutters, eyebrows turned in as he holds a black earpiece in his fingers before placing the device into where you would need it delicately; making sure it wouldn’t fall out, “There we are.”
“John,” You scoff softly, “You’re holding me like I’m going to be crucified and not just going to a dinner party to get intel.” 
“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t worry about my girl?” He raises a brow, taking a step back from where he had you tight up against his chest, “A piss poor one, I’d say.”
You stifle a laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides as your cheeks heat with love and gratitude. It felt good to be suffocated by his careful nature – even if that didn’t really sound appealing. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“Now,” John crosses his arms, nodding his head as the black beanie on his head lightly tilts at the action, “Let me see you, Sweetheart.” 
“What, do you want me to do a spin too, you pervert?” You were dressed to the nines, gold gleaming around your neck and wrists, elaborate braids twisting part of your hair to rest in a bun while the rest falls to shroud the black device that lies dormant in your right ear. It’ll come to life shortly – when you finally make your way to the mission sight; the location was some rich asshole’s mansion. 
No doubt the party you were going to was nothing more than an excuse to boost the target’s ego with grand displays of money and sultry attendants. It sounded positively enticing, you thought – though, John was making it quite difficult to want to leave with how he was undressing you with his eyes. 
Around your body, a tight-fitting red silk dress hugged you just right, accenting everything good about you and showing off enough to entice anyone with a functioning brain. Fuck, the way it wrapped your hips made even you drool; the dripping neckline was perfectly eye-catching as well. John had told you that you looked like a goddess before you had even put it on, but he seemed to want to say more when he watched you slip into it smoothly, the practiced fluidity in your bones helping you move sensually. 
The man had been laying naked on the hotel bed with nothing more than a thin bed sheet wrapped around his sculpted pelvis, the rest of the fabric hanging off the side and pooling on the floor. A cigar had been held loosely in his lips, and when you turned to ask his opinion, he nearly dropped it with the way his mouth had opened. 
Your ego had taken a steep incline as the Captain’s pupils had dilated, turning that shade of storm blue as dark as the shadows outside the window. Unconsciously, you had rubbed your thighs together to stop the pooling heat that beings to form as his lower half jerked instinctually from the bed. You weren’t even sure he noticed his physical reaction.
“Fuck,” John mutters in front of you, bringing you back to the present. He lets his eyes trail slowly, “Doll, I’d bloody pay you to do anything you want to me.” A smirk filters from your lips.
“You really like the dress, don’t you, hm?” 
He doesn’t hesitate, “Yeah, lie of the century, that is,” You raise a brow, confusion leaking into your beating pulse as he saunters closer with a sway in his alluring hips. The packs and objects on his black combat vest press into your upper stomach as he leans into you, carefully shoving you back into the body-length mirror attached to the wall. John leans close, his breath fanning over the hot skin of your exposed neck; the rouge of your painted lips open as your lungs tighten with expectation. You want desperately to shove him back into bed and rip his damn gear off. Or maybe just let him fuck you with it on, really…you lusted over that shit, “I bloody fucken’ love it.”
His lips find your pulse point, moving the gold necklace farther up your skin with his nose, causing your head to slam back into the mirror with a muffled thump. John chuckles as you eagerly open your neck to him more, glancing at your face from the side. Your heart was beating like a lion’s, being able to be seen through the thin silk.
“Eager, are we? I thought I had tired you out not an hour ago?” 
You had, You had wanted to say, but only a needy whimper falls from your lips as his teeth graze your skin. The ache from your prior activities was set deep into your thighs and lower body, making a promise to cause hell when you have to walk in heels soon. 
But, God, did you love it.
Your hand weaves its way under John’s black athletic shirt, finding the tight available skin and digging your red acrylic nails over it. You force the man forward, his deep-chested grunt leading to a full-body shiver not a second later. Something hard and solid presses into your abdomen and you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, panting as a trail of saliva follows John as he pulls back from your neck to watch you.
“Who’s eager now, Captain?” John’s hands snap to your thighs, smirking as he’s dragging one to his waist. You lick your lips as he presses deeply into you with his clothed erection, making the heat in your core burst into a raging fire at the stiffness, a slick feeling coating your panties. Your thigh comes to rest on his waistline, and he holds it there with an iron hand.
“John,” You whimper as he begins to move you, lightly rocking back and forth as your hips jerk to meet his.
“Fuck,” He groans, pressing his forehead to your own as he grips your waist tight with his free hand. The man pulls your thigh into him with every thrust, fingers digging so hard the skin is already indented, “If only you could see yourself, Love,” A low whimper enters the air, muffled when John connects his lips with yours with heavy open-mouth kisses as his beard rubs over your flesh. The both of you move in sync, using the other to get off as quickly and as cleanly as possible in the limited time. The zipper of his pants connects with your bundle of nerves, making you moan and writhe against him like a bitch in heat. John pulls back to grunt into your mouth as his hips press you farther into the mirror with a particularly hard thrust once more, making sure to hit that spot again. Always so attentive. Your back arches as you keen breathily, hands roaming his abdomen and digging into the muscle there to ground yourself as you rut. The slick in your panties drips down your free leg in a disgustingly pleasurable tear, “Fucken’ perfect in that dress.” 
That’s when there’s a knock on the door. 
Snapping out of your hazes, you both whip back to stare at each other with wide eyes before your heads turn to the door. The fire stills, pauses, unsure if you both should continue. You want to. Your breasts are pressed tightly to John’s chest, and every breath makes you want the Captain to grip them in his hands and squeeze. 
“...You two had better be decent!” Gaz’s voice wafts in from under the crack, making both of your eyes widen comedically, “The rest of us had to plug earbuds in to drown out the sounds from an hour ago. Honestly…the pair of you can’t go a few bloody minutes without fucking?”
Your face heats, twin scorching suns taking home over your cheeks. Immediately, all thoughts of lust are shut off like being doused with a bucket of cold water.
Still leaning into you, John groans, leading his body to vibrate perfectly. You stifle a needy whine as your hips rock once more, slick beginning to uncomfortably drip to the side of your knee. You would have to change your underwear before you left. And redo your makeup. 
“Fuck off, Sergeant, before I come out there.”
“I’d rather you don’t come anywhere, Sir.” Slapping a hand over your mouth you try to stifle the loud bark of laughter that finds the air, the shadow under the door slinks off with a finishing call of, “Laswell said five minutes before we leave, yeah?!” 
Your chest vibrates with humor, head lightly meeting John’s chest as he lowers your thigh and lets you place your foot on the ground. Laughing, you feel the man’s arms wrap around your body pulling you to gently sway back and forth. 
“Damn the boy,” Price mutters into your head, “Should put him on desk duty for a month for that.”
“Oh, come on,” You respond, pulling back to look at him with a smile as your eyes light, “That was funny.” 
“Hm,” he rests his bearded chin on your forehead, the small bristles getting caught in some of your baby hairs as he lays a gentle kiss on your skin.
You both stay like that for a minute or two, content as you listen to the heavy beating of each other’s hearts and the slight pants of air falling from your lips. The lustful heat was dead, and in its place duty grew. 
It was time to get to work. 
“Price?” You tilt your head to the side, slipping the gold and diamond earrings on as you whisper into the earpiece, “What are the chances that I can steal some of the appetizers and stuff them into my handbag?”
“I’d say less than probable, Love.” Layered behind John’s amused voice, Laswell pipes up, the sound of shifting bodies letting you know that many people were waiting on you to exit the Limo. You had no idea how they could see you but were put at ease that they were able to.
“You’ll have plenty of time to eat later, Bravo 1-6, no need to worry. Let’s just focus on the mission for now.” You pouted as Kate spoke, newly applied lipstick pulling at your skin as you moved your hands away from your ears and fixed your strands of hair. Under you, the leather seats of the vehicle are insanely comfortable.
“You guys are no fun.” Sighing, your hands stop their fiddling, falling to your lap as you huff, “If the silverware is gold plaited you bet your ass I’m shoving it down my bra – and I don’t care how much you complain, I’m taking it.”
Just as you stop plotting your mini heist, the car door to your right opens with a pop, snapping your thoughts back to the task at hand.
A tall Doorman your age is on the outside, dressed in a handsome black suit and red bowtie as the chilled night air seeps into the car. He holds out a hand to you, and after a second of hesitation, you plaster an innocent smile on your face; eyelids fluttering prettily. It was shocking how fast you could change your outward attitude. 
“Oh,” You purr, head tilting, “Such a gentleman. Thank you, Sweetheart.” Placing your hand in his, your jewelry jangles as the Doorman helps you out of the car, carefully gripping your hand in his own gloved one. 
“Erm…I-Invitation, Ma’am.” He mutters, face amusingly red as he stares at you; unable to make eye contact for more than three seconds. He drops his hand but leaves it outstretched as you take a step away from the vehicle.
You smirk.
“Of course,” Flicking your tiny handbag open with nimble fingers, your hand delves inside. The smooth surface of a stamped envelope connects with your searching digits, but your knuckles tantalizingly brush the tiny knife sewn into the lining of your bag. With a giggle, you grab the invitation and hold it out. In your grip, it’s held loosely between your pointer and middle finger. You tilt your head as he takes it.
“I’ve heard Mr. Bogdanov throws the most wonderful events – when I’d been told, I forced my father to get me an invitation to the next. Can you believe he almost denied me?” Bringing a hand to your mouth, you cover the convincing laugh that meets the chilled air politely, “Insanity! As if I could miss this!”
God, You think to yourself, this is humiliating. John and the others always get the fun jobs. 
“Yes, Ma’am,” The Doorman, “Mr. Bogdanov is always happy to see new faces on his estate. Especially ones as beautiful as yours.” 
Your earpiece crackles for a moment, and you swore you heard John mutter, “Muppet,” into your earlobe. 
Stifling a violent snort, you shuffle your heeled feet.  
“Oh,” You watch the Doorman check the invitation, flicking it open and checking the signature on the bottom with flushed cheeks as he blatantly moves to stare at your clothed breasts, “Flatterer.”
“You’re all good, Ma’am,” He clears his throat, shakily handing you back the paper, “Enjoy your night.” 
Snatching the invitation, you smile his way before walking up the red-carpeted stairs ahead, hearing muttered conversations flowing out into the night. You try not to ogle at the humongous house that the Target has, multiple stories and windows larger than a damn tree coupled with white paint. The front garden alone was the size of multiple football fields.
“...This place is definitely in that ‘World's Top Ten Biggest Houses’ video online.” 
Gaz’s voice chuckles through the line, making your lip quirk.
“I think I’ve seen that one before!”
“The both of you are chaos incarnate.” 
“Damn right, Laswell,” You murmur, eyebrows furrowing at the radio silence from John. He was usually hyping you up by now, whispering in that husky voice to leave you flustered. It was your favorite part of these missions – his grumble in your head leaving your lungs heaving and cheeks hot. 
So this attitude was very confusing, to say the least, but you can’t dwell on it. The front doors open as you walk up to them; butlers waiting outside for the guests – all excellently dressed. 
Their eyes boggle out of their heads when they see you, and skurry to make sure you don’t have to wait outside any longer. 
“Thank you, boys,” You sing, waving a hand as you saunter past, enjoying the attention but wishing it was from someone else. 
This would have been so much more fun if John was here. He would have made jokes about everyone's outfits with me. 
Your chest tightens, and you frown. Something was wrong with your Captain, you knew it. Not able to handle it any longer as your heels click over marble and the laughs and sounds of conversation get closer, you speak.
“John,” You clutch your handbag, eyes flickering back and forth, “You with me?” 
“...Sorry, Bravo 1-6,” Kate’s voice is not the one you want to hear right now, “Price said he had to step out for a moment.”
“What–?!”
“Ahh, and who might this be,” Sputtering, the sudden deep Russian voice to your side makes you reel, head snapping to the side, “Such a stunning woman…unfortunately, it seems I don’t know your name, лисичка.”
“A-Allegra Bayley, daughter of Braylon Bayley,” You find yourself answering with the fake name and family you had been given hours earlier, “and who might you…” Trailing off, your eyes widen slowly. Staring at the sharply dressed man two times bigger than a bear, with muscles so large the suit nearly looks like it’ll rip, you feel your hands get sweaty; you grip your handbag tighter. He’s so tall you have to tilt your head up to see his face. 
You wish you hadn’t.
Not that the gargantuan stranger wasn’t handsome - in a rugged sort of criminal type of way because his nose had been obviously broken multiple times – it's that you had seen his dead eyes before: staring back at you from the confines of a manila folder Laswell had slid over to you two weeks ago. The Target. 
Kazimir Bogdanov, Your heart picks up speed, pulsing like a rabbit’s behind its fur – only you had no fur. The only thing over you was a thin dress of flowing silk and gold jewelry. The tiny knife in your bag wouldn’t do much against him. Suddenly, you desperately wanted John’s thick leather jacket and beanie to cover your skin; confidence slowly leaking because of the glint in Bogdanov’s icy eyes. 
No…you just wanted John; his heavy presence behind you, like a watchdog ready to strike at any threat to come near you, only held back by a thin shred of decency that develops in your presence. You wanted him to be there to back you up, but with tight shoulders, you knew he wasn’t – only open-air and the scent of expensive perfume and money encompassed you.
You were on your own.
Kazimir is a weapons dealer with ties to multiple foreign terror organizations throughout the entire world – playing every side and never coming out physically covered in blood because of business. Metaphorically speaking, the man was drowning in crimson. 
The number of deaths he had caused was astronomical and rising by the day.
“Mr. Bogdanov,” A sweet smile slips to your lips, but your heart tells you to run. You had expected time to get the layout of the mansion, mingle, and get used to the environment. Hell, you still needed to figure out where the food was! You’d barely gotten through the giant fucking doors! This wasn't good.
The earpiece picks up a sharp inhale from the line, bodies shifting, and a muffled call to someone. 
“It’s a pleasure. Please,” You frown, shaking your head and waving an arm, “Forgive my incompetence. The majesty of your estate…well…It’s blinded me. I’m utterly entranced.”
“You said you were Braylon Bayley’s daughter, yes?” Kazimir murmurs, fixing the red tie around his neck with ringed fingers as thick as branches, “I remember he had sons,” Narrowing his eyes, you try your best not to panic, “but he never mentioned a daughter to me.”
“Oh, You know how fathers are. The bastard kept me from everyone,” You reply lightly leaning forward and bringing two hands to the side of your lips, “Business, you know. Tricky stuff.”
“Hm,” The Russian grunts, and his biceps tense for a moment. He watches you like a piece of meat, eyes trailing up and down as he smirks. The various scars over his face twist, “Mr. Bayley has been incredibly generous this year with his erm, donations…I can’t think of a better way to repay him than to entertain his lovely лисичка for the night. Please, accompany me.” 
You blink innocently and pull your lips back into a naive smile, imagining John giving you that look instead and letting heat flood your cheeks as a result. 
“I’d love nothing more.” 
He talks about taking you to a lounge, walking with your hand in the crook of his arm as you pass envious onlookers that burn you with their eyes and sneers. You try not to look so nervous but can’t help the way your heart pounds. The jewelry on your wrists and neck glint as if to try and comfort you; offering winks with their tiny diamond eyes.
As if it were so easy to turn off all of your emotions and be as numb as gold.
Maybe this had been a mistake.
The earpiece crackles, “Get him to talk about his latest deal,” Laswell murmurs to you, “I want details; you can’t leave until he mentions his buyer.”
“Or if you feel like you’ve been burned,” Gaz pipes in and you hear a rustle of fabric, “Your safety is the highest priority, Ma’am. Don’t jeopardize it just for the mission,” Then, jokingly, “The Captain would wring my neck.”
He’d do more than that, You want to answer, but hold your tongue, only sighing as you pass a grand table filled with amazing-looking food. Studying it longingly, Kazimir hurries you past with a comment on how ravishing you look in red – even going so far as to say it's his favorite color. It doesn’t really surprise you.
You want John to tell you you would be okay, but his voice never filters through the wavelengths, never graces your ears like an intimate murmur. Only cruel static.
It only serves to make you more anxious. 
Where is my John, You wonder, but can’t dwell on the twisting feeling in your gut before you’re brought to a couch in the corner of the main room, a small group of mingling guests glancing you over before smirking and sending whispers to their dates, Why did I agree to this?
“I must say, Mr. Bogdanov,” You sit when the man holds out a hand for you, motioning you to the soft velvet cushions, “I am quite impressed with the scale of your extravagance. So many rooms so beautifully decorated and furnished. I can’t help but wonder if my father’s donations to your business may be put to use in other places.” 
Grinning to show you partially thought it was a poor attempt at conversation, he takes a seat right beside you, body heat making your skin crawl. Kazimir had placed his frame closer to yours than you would have expected. Shifting yourself slightly away, your opposite arm hits the wooden armrest with a dull thud. 
The guests leave the room.
When the Russian talks you feel the vibrations of his voice from where he keeps contact with you. 
 I want John’s leather jacket, You tell yourself this once more before you scratch at your neck. Afterward, you disguise the nervous gesture with the outward appearance that you were fixing your hair. Feeling slick sweat dribbling down your spine, you can’t help but wonder if you had just walked into a monster den without a sword.
“I assure you,” Kazimir murmurs, sliding a hand over the back of the couch and leaning his body into yours, pressing you into the armrest with his vile build, “All investments are going exactly where your father instructed, лисичка. I’m simply the middle man, you understand, yes?” 
He laughs, and you swallow the bile in your throat. You attempt a small smile, though, your eyes certainly give you away, not to mention the tension in your body.
Get the job done, Your fingers shake, and you clutch them over your handbag in your lap to try and get them to stop, Get it done and leave. You’ll be fine. It’s gonna be alright.
But his hand was touching your shoulder now, slipping over the straps of the silk dress you had loved. You want to throw up. 
In your ear the device jolts to life, your name uttered and nearly missed by Gaz, who begins to plead with Laswell. They undoubtedly know what’s going on. They’re not stupid to Kazimir’s ways with women.
“..Tell her to get the hell out of there! Move in or something – let me kill the bastard myself, Kate!”
 “We can’t move in,” Laswell sounds concerned, “We don’t have anyone else on the inside right now – and we need to know where the weapons are being distributed from.” 
“Bullshit! We’ll figure it out another time!”
You don’t need to be a genius to know the answer to that comment. There wouldn’t be a ‘next time.’ Hundreds of people could be dead in a day if you don’t find out where Bogdanov’s current stock from your ‘father’ is being sold. 
“I can’t help but wonder,” You clear your throat, pushing aside your discomfort and leaning into the man’s hold, letting loose a girlish giggle as you flicker your eyelashes up at him. Just pretend, “Where is it that you’re sending your product? My father never told me and I hate being left out of the loop. He’s such a stickler for me never being involved in the family business.”
Before this moment you hadn’t realized that Kazimir Bogdanov was barely older than yourself. He wasn’t an old man at all, nor was he John’s age. The Russian was perhaps only one or two years your senior. 
He looked down at you with dilated pupils, staring at your visible skin and the red off your lips. Bogdanov’s tongue flicks at the side of his mouth. 
“Any why would I tell you that, Little Allegra Bayley? It is not ideal to discuss work at a party – you should drink, eat…partake in more carnal pleasures.” His finger traces your shoulder blades, creating small circles. 
“Because I want you too,” You smirk, whispering the words out with a slow sigh, “Because I asked so nicely to such a handsomely dangerous man like yourself?”
“Hm,” He murmurs, caught like a rat in a trap. His file had been right. 
He had a horrible idea that women couldn’t be involved in a line of work such as his – be smart enough to play his game. He underestimates the lengths you would go to bring him to his grave.
Kazimir is hanging off your skin like a man starved, gripping your flesh with his large hands. Like a blood-drowned mouse in a golden trap made of jeweled teeth and a diamond snare.
“I’m a snoop,” You soften your features, “My old man’s activities are…exciting to me. And I have a right to know, don’t I?” You flutter your eyelashes, putting on a pout. 
Your heart was nearly breaking your ribcage open, the bones feeling like they were flaring out like birds wings. 
“Лисичка,” Bogdanov leans in so close you could smell his musk, the breath playing off his lips, “Already prying me for information into family business. Not very innocent, are you?” He pauses, eyes lowering to your body pressed against him. He shifts his leg, watching your body move in reaction. He spills, “I believe the products were sold to a woman named Valdana Rojanić in Montenegro. Nasty stuff she plans to do – but it’s not my war, no?”
“Bravo 1-6, get the hell out of there,” Laswell barks down the line, causing you to flinch as the immediate sound of someone else shouting over the line finds your ear.
“What in the bloody hell do you mean she’s already talking to him?!” 
“John…” You mutter out loud, eyes blinking as a breath of fresh air enters your lungs at the noise of rushing feet and hands sliding across a table harshly.
“What was that?” Kazimir’s eyebrows crease, face pulling back into a snarl, “Who is–”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bogdanov, but I really have to use your restroom,” Tilting your head in a display of pure regret, you stutter, “I hate to embarrass myself like this, but I have a horribly small bladder.” 
You try not to cringe at the blatant lie.
Kazimir pulls back with a dark face, and you stand to shaky feet quickly, clutching your handbag in such a grip the fabric indents. 
You make it about four steps before a hand latches onto your forearm, making you suck in a sharp breath as John’s perfectly gravelly voice wafts from the earpiece, oblivious to your panicked pulse and wide eyes.
“Love,” His voice seems breathless as another hand snaps over your mouth to muffle a shout of alarm, “I’m so fucken’ sorry. One word and I’ll blow cover and come get you myself, eh?” A pause and a nervous chuckle, and you can’t respond because you’re bringing an elbow up behind you, snapping it into the Russian’s spleen with a violent blow. Except his arm doesn’t let go, “…Love?” You unclasp your handbag with one hand as black dots swim in your vision. John knows you best – you’d never not respond to him on a mission like this, even if you were angry, “Love…! Shit, Laswell, she’s burned! Sergeant – you’re on me! I want that Muppet’s house on lockdown, now!
You sit on your hotel room floor covered in blood. Not your own, of course, but with the way you were shaking, you would think it was. 
The locked door handle jiggles, and your eyes slowly travel to it – mind sluggish and still trying to process what had happened. You had killed Kazimir Bogdanov; shoved your tiny knife deep into the sinuses of his neck and felt the spray of his Carotid Artery’s blood splatter your nose and cheeks.
This shouldn’t be getting to you – how many men and women have you killed in your career? Hundreds…no, thousands. It shouldn’t affect you anymore. It doesn’t.
Kazimir was a bad man, You try to reason with yourself as you watch the doorknob once more move back and forth, he deserved what he got. No one will be sad over his death. 
So why were tears running down your face? Dribbling to the carpet like little bullets of your own self-loathing? It wasn’t because of the Russian, you knew.
“Doll…?” John’s soft voice comes from under the door, his boots making shadows in the hallway light as they shuffle. His knuckles lightly wrap against the barrier separating him from you, “You still in there? Can you open the door for me?”
You stare at the woodgrain of the door, making patterns and finding faces in the dark lines. Bringing a hand up to your face, you swipe at your tears, only serving to spread the blood into long streaks up your cheeks. 
John speaks your name, clearing his throat, “Please, I…I need you to open the door, Sweetheart. I’ve gotta make this right.”
His voice prompts you to move your shaking legs, standing and feeling the silk of your dress caress you like a second skin. You don’t want to wear it anymore, but you don’t have the energy to take it off by yourself.
Padding over to the door, your hand lays heavy on the lock, studying the red stains on your hands as they leave trails on the copper metal. You can hear John’s breath on the other side of the thin wood, the sound of his hand meeting the back of his neck, running over the flesh. He did that when he was nervous, a small tick you had been fortunate enough to learn over the years you two had been together. You knew him like a bird knew the sky, flew along the headwinds of his mind with sturdy wings without fear of divebombing; the two of you worked so well as a pair many already thought you were married. 
There was one thing you could know even when you were reduced to this. John loved you; you loved John. 
You flick the lock and hear the defending click as a deep silence covers the room. But the tall man outside the door waited for you to open the barrier between the two of you, even though you knew his heart was racing to break it down. Grabbing the knob, you slowly twist until the door draws back, only half of your face visible from the hallway. 
John’s face immediately comes into view, a black beanie over his head and still in his dark tactical gear, the black undershirt absorbing all the light that met it. His small blue eyes are creased, and when his gaze travels the gore on your face he frowns deeply, fingers twitching at his sides. 
You blink at him when he calmly takes a single step forward, grabbing onto the door frame. He doesn’t ask how you are, but the man was just about the smartest person you’ve ever known. He knows you’re not okay.
“Let’s get all that off you, eh, Love?” John nods his head at you, beard pulling as he tries to give you a small smile to mask the obvious concern at the blankness of your eyes, “Get my girl cleaned up.” 
He scans your body, looking for injuries, and you’re brought back to the events in the car that had transpired not fifteen minutes earlier. 
You had yelled at him, still dripping in blood as the car peeled out of the estate even as John was frantically moving his hands over your body, checking for open wounds. His eyes had been wild, and he took you throwing your anger at him with a stiff face, looking at the deep bruising over your forearm and the red of your neck seriously. His eyebrows had furrowed as rage swelled. Ripping your hand away from him you screamed with shaking limbs, where the hell were you?! 
You were never mad about fucking Kazimir Bogdanov or what he did to you, you were mad that John – your lover and best friend – had left you alone. You had told him before, that on missions like these, you wanted him on the line the entire time; not only for the company but because he gave you a sense of safety in the way he spoke to you that you couldn’t give yourself. Not when everyone was looking at you like a slice of dessert.
John hadn’t been able to meet your eyes the entire ride back, and when you had locked yourself in the hotel room he had offered a small, “Doll…I…” Before you had slammed the door in his face.
Now, though, it felt good to feel his hand on your shoulder, lightly pulling you back into the room as he murmured softly into the air. He let you sit on the bed, guiding you as your bare feet stumble for a moment before your backside hits a soft mattress. You wished you could go back to the time before the mission – when John had laid with you under the covers and trailed his fingertips over your heated skin, your legs wrapped around his tapered waistline as he hit all the right spots and whispered dirty paise in your ears. 
Good girl, He had grunted into your neck, panting and biting into the sweaty skin like a feral animal, leaving you sobbing with pleasure, His beard had burned so delightfully as it ravaged your skin, leaving it pulsing. Your body was trying desperately to move in tandem with John’s own devastating pace; hips instinctually trembling to meet his slick-stained pelvis, dripping from previous rounds, look at you, eh, trying so hard to keep up. Keep me in that cunt of yours. My good fucken’ girl. S-so good.
Blinking away the heat that grows in your navel, you shift, noticing John had gone off and returned with a wet rag from the bathroom; his tactical vest was off, and leaning on the bed on the floor. You hadn’t even seen him take it off. Hitting it with your toe lightly, you make it fall sideways with a muffled thump and a clinking of metal.
John attempts a chuckle as he stops ahead of you, crouching down and placing his hands in the middle of his open legs as his elbows rest on his knees. He takes a deep breath in.
“Not a fan, Sweetheart? I can move it farther if you want?”
“Where were you,” You whisper, voice hoarse. Pulling the fraying ends of your strength together you look up at him, “I needed you there with me for this…You disappeared, John.” 
You just wanted to understand; just wanted the tightness of your chest to go away.
Your Captain stares up at you for a moment before he blinks, tilting his head to look to the side; away from you. A flash of red-hot guilt overtook his ocean-blue orbs as you see him glare at the side table like he could set the wood alight with his repressed hatred for himself. 
“I’m sorry, Love. Don’t…don’t think any less of me, eh?” He chokes out, chest jerking with a humorless grunt, and his face turns back to you. Pausing, you find embarrassment heating his bearded cheeks, eyes unable to meet yours. John takes your hands in his own, bringing the rag up to begin peeling away the dried blood around your palms, “It’s…ah, It’s not an excuse, I know, but I…”
“John?” You murmur, bringing a hand up from his grip in concern to tilt his head. You hold a finger under his chin, liking the way his coarse beard itches you as you prompt him to stare you in the eyes. This was unlike him – John was never… embarrassed. Not like this at least, “What happened?”
John clenches his jaw, taking his hand not holding the rag, and carefully grabbing your digits before bringing them to his lips and holding them there. He lays a gentle kiss before he starts, uttering softly his secret into your skin.
“I just realized that maybe you would be better off with someone who wasn’t…” He trails, “...Someone who could treat you better. Give you what you want.”
What, your face must show your genuine confusion because John lets a tiny smile flicker over his lips before he goes back to cleaning your hand, Where had this come from.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Your eyebrows crease, shivering as the rag goes up to your elbow, caressing the sensitive skin and drawing the large man closer to you as his heat sinks into you. His chest brushes your leg, leading you to move your limbs apart and under his armpits to rest your feet on his hip bones. The muscles of his toned thighs tense as you brush over them, and he sends you a glance.
His eyes soften.
“Someone more your age, Love.”
You immediately huff incredulously, not even realizing that you had come out of your stupor at the baffling comment from the man you loved more than anything. 
My John? Insecure about himself? Your face twists, is this because of the people who were at the party? No, you can’t have that. Not your beloved Captain.
Grumbling with genuine denial, you grab John’s hairy cheeks, dragging him to you so swiftly that he grunts in surprise; eyes flashing with those flecks of sea glass. Your legs wrap around his back, locking at the ankles, and you feel his broad body flex and writhe as his hands immediately snap to your hips, dropping the rag to the floor with a wet thwap.
John gazes up at you with blown-wide eyes, mouth slightly open as the beanie on his head bounces at the action.
In his gargantuan hands he bunches the silk of your dress which is now shoved all the way up to your waist; creasing it, and you suck in a sharp breath as his beating heart is pressed directly into the fabric of your panties. Your nerves get set alight, heat building to a steady simmer in your gut that makes your thighs flex and your pupils dilate until little of the color is visible. 
You bring John’s face up to yours, twiddling your fingers into his beard and running your thumbs back and forth over his cheeks. He swallows thickly as you lean down, stopping just as your lips are able to brush over his own. You keep your eyes locked on his as you growl out.
“Any why would I want anyone that wasn’t you?” Your eyebrow raises as John gapes up at you, “Do you think anyone would be able to make me feel the way you do? The Doorman? The Butlers?” You scoff, and John licks his lips as his grip on your waist tightens. You know he wants to drag you to him, but you want him to wait, “All they did was ogle at my breasts and skin like horny teenagers,” John grunts, eyes flashing dangerously, and his heart is beating so fast in his peck that you roll your hips against his available body, gold jewelry shimmering in the dimed overhead light. The man responds by breathing out a shaky sigh, content with the feeling of you rutting on him. You knew it turned him on, though his bulge was hidden by the frame of the bed below you.
“Do you want to know something, John,” You mutter over his lips, and he hums, chest vibrating perfectly as you suck down a whimper through red-painted lips. He smirks, “Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me like you do. They can’t make me feel like this with just a fucking look.” 
John slides one hand down to your parted legs as the other goes to the small of your back, gliding over silk sensually and maintaining eye contact as you both pant into each other. Your hands tighten over his cheeks as his sturdy digits delve into the space between the two of you before they finally press against the drowned fabric of your panties. You had already leaked through them.
He hisses in a breath, and before you can even realize what’s happening, your legs are being gripped tightly, and your back hits the mattress as a gasp escapes you. 
“Little Minx,” John manhandles your body, pulling you to him as you let him peel the dress father up your body, pooling just above the swell of your breasts. Your hands grip the sheets as your Captain keeps your legs wrapped around him. He stands. 
“John,” You whimper as he grips the edge of his athletic shirt with a heavy hand, ripping it off like the article of clothing offended him. His hat falls with the black fabric to the floor as the broad frame of his chiseled abs comes into view, pale skin marred with scars and burns. The sharp ‘v’ of his pelvis makes you constrict around nothing, “I...”
“Tell me what you want, Love,” He grinds his tented cargo pants against your core, one of his large palms coming down to grip your breasts under the silk as the other plays with the band of your underwear, “Speak to me.”
“I-I’m all bloody,” You moan when his hand grips you tighter, already sensitive skin now feeling like a live wire. His hips continue to rut against you, and tension is pleasurably building as he hits that bundle of nerves every time. Your chest rises and falls swiftly as your eyes flutter.
John chuckles deeply, shaking his head. Already so worked up.
“Oh, Love, I’ve fucked you covered in worse. I’ll clean you up just fine…make sure every trace of another man is completely erased from your skin – from your mind,” He bends over you, hand trailing down your abdomen to meet where he grinds into you. He presses into your covered clit with his thumb, rolling in small circles. You gasp, back arching up into him as ecstasy makes your legs tighten. One of your hands snaps up to John’s hair, running through the locks and tugging at the roots. He shivers, his mouth near the skin of your collarbone, “Until all that’s left behind is me.”
His tongue licks a stripe from the junction of your neck up to your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back as you cry out loudly; the callouses of his fingers hit you just right – the pace perfect as he ramps up your pleasure. Your pussy desperately tightens around nothing, leaking like a faucet with need. Your Captain grips the sheets just beside your head, making sure he doesn’t accidentally crush you with his gargantuan frame. If he asked you would let him.
“Fucken’ beautiful,” John groans, “Fucken’ taste bloody good, Sweetheart…fuck.” 
He laps at your skin, leaving trails of saliva all along your neck, cleaning the blood away before moving to your face. He stares at you with a deeply feral look as the coil in your core builds, red hot and making your skin shine with a sheen of desperate sweat. Your thighs quiver as the wetness of your slit makes the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your skin. The flesh of your face scrunches, and your head is loosely rocked up and down from the constant movement of your boyfriend’s hard hips and thumb.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, You think, digging your nails into his scalp and tugging.
“Don’t stop,” You whine, “So close.”
“That’s right,” John’s tongue flies over the corner of your lip, making you want to cry at how you want to kiss him right now – but he's already moved onto your cheek, licking long stripes. When the man has his mind set on something, he’s not going to stop until it’s completed. The heat gets hotter, and your eyes snap closed eyebrows pulling in, “Yeah, come on, Love, come on. That’s it.” 
He presses his thumb harder, moving it faster to chase that prize at the end of the road, watching in satisfaction as your body responds so perfectly to his every whim; hips moving erratically. You desperately try and meet his pace and, for the most part, achieve your goal, only sputtering when the tense minutes ware on and it all comes crashing down.
Your thin line of sanity breaks, and with a final heavy tug on John's hair that leaves him lowly groaning into your ear and muttering praises, your breath comes out in tight pants as light erupts behind your eyelids. You tense and feel your pussy gush with nothing inside of you, just your Captain’s steady rocking serving as an anchor as you feel your mind go blank with unrestrained pleasure.
“John!” You gasp, just as the man cleans the blood off your nose bridge as you arch violently against his sturdy chest, shaking, “Oh, fuck.”
“There she is,” Hands go to your chin, moving your jaw as your mouth remains open and releasing puffs of air. Your eyes open half-lidded as his finger works you through your high, “There’s my girl. Look at me, Sweetheart. Hm, did so good for me.”
“John,” You whimper, looking up into the sheen of pride that shines in his eyes; legs vibrating as his fingers move from your clit to your hip. The other leg, now tingling and pleasure numb, falls to the mattress with half of it hanging off. John digs tightly into your skin, leaving beautiful bruises behind for you to admire tomorrow, “Please I need you in me. Wanna make you feel good.”
“Hm,” He smashes his lips to yours, teeth clacking together, unable to restrain himself when you have that blissed-out look coating your expression, and you reciprocate as his painfully large erection still digs into you; his cargo pants stained with your fluids in a large wet splotch. Your free hand shakily slides to his belt buckle, tugging uselessly at the metal until John takes notice and tilts his head back, “Just a minute, Princess, so needy for me already?”
“Always,” You gasp, kissing the corner of his mouth breathlessly, “You treat me so well, John, always make me feel so good.” Tilting his head farther up with a nail, you feel his breath still, held in his chest as you leave love bites all along the part where his shoulder and neck meet, “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
He melts into you before hastily going down to undo his belt buckle with one hand, allowing you to continue your work of marking him as his hips begin once more to careen into you with instinctual pleasure. Nearly crying from the sharp sense of overstimulation, you let the glossiness coat your eyes but still want more from him, even if it made you go dumb. 
Sliding your hands all over his back and digging into the delicious muscles with your nails, you only pause your ministrations when his pants fall to the floor with a thump of fabric; his boxers following. Pulling back, you let your head hit the mattress as John drops the leg he was holding and you splay your hands above your head, letting the chill of your jewelry ground you as you take in the sight above you. 
Every time you and John had sex it felt like you were taking him for the first time, the size of him stretching you so perfectly it didn’t take much for you to be reduced to a whimpering mess. It was even better when you were on top of him, straddling his hips and feeling his hands holding you in place as he plants his feet and thrusts up into you; hitting that perfect spongy spot and kissing your cervix. 
Staring at him, heat flows to your face, and your lower legs nearly fall together until John’s hands snap to them, forcing them open once more. On his tense stomach, his large cock leaks down onto itself, but he hardly seems to notice. Your heart pounds in your ribcage. 
“Don’t hide from me,” He mutters your name, fingers leaving goosebumps behind as they trail to your panties. John plays with the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, leaving you pouting as the seconds drag on. But he just watches you, running his digits over the come that stains the garment and leaks from your hole to the bed sheets. 
“What’d I do to deserve you, eh?” John grunts as you make a sound in the back of your throat, “What’d I do to deserve this?” 
He grabs your wrecked panties and slowly drags them to your ankles, letting them fall off to the floor to make a pile with his own clothes. Sucking in a breath, you feel the chill of the room meet your now-visible pussy. John’s eyes darken with lust, and one of his hands goes to lightly start pumping his cock at the sight of liquid falling out of you. His eyebrows pull in with concentration.
“Y-you don’t have to deserve me, John,” You whisper, watching in awe as his muscles tense as he jerks himself off at the sight of you; keeping eye contact with those blown orbs. One of your hands slides over your clovered breasts and down over your abdomen, finding your own slick folds before splaying them. Masking a whimper at your sensitivity, your eyelashes flutter as John’s jaw clenches at the visual, “I g-gave myself to you because I love you. You know that…Ah.” 
Growling, your Captain snaps a hand to wrap around your wrist before you can begin to rock your hips and weakly fuck yourself at the sight of his leaking cock-head.
“Easy, Love,” He groans, running a thumb over his tip, “Let me take care of you, yeah?” 
John’s hand leaves his cock, going to land on your other hand’s wrist as he pulls you to a sitting position. You release a squeak as you almost faceplant into his abdomen. 
“J-John?” Muttering with wide eyes, your heart jerks as his hands weave under your knees, the other spanning the back of your shoulders. He picks you up and tosses you up into the middle of the bed, making you squeal and release a set of giggles as you land softly onto the mattress. Your body bounces, hair partially blocking your view before you swipe it from your face.
John chuckles, placing a knee on the side of the bed before moving up and crawling forward, coming to trap you under his body as he places his massive weight against you. Hating the silk barrier between your bodies, you smile and move one of your fingers to clasp the zipper in the back.
“Let me,” The man mutters, laying a soft kiss on your lips before his large hands move behind you, grabbing the metal and dragging it down. 
You arch your back to help. 
When he reaches the end, he pulls the fabric and your bra over your head; he leaves the jewelry on your body with only a lick of his lips and a glance to tell you he enjoyed the way it stood out on your skin. His cock twitches. John drops the silk to the floor and slots his hips inside the space of your thighs. 
“Hm,” He breathes over your flaming cheeks, and you go to wrap your arms around his neck in anticipation, “Not right.”
He flips you over so you straddle his lower body, and immediately the impression of his cock is on your folds, leaving you moaning with want and heat as he leans against the headboard with a smirk. You swallow, seeing the way John watches with a tilted head.
“Fuck, you feel good,” You mutter, moving one hand down to grasp him as the other lands on his chest. You run your fingers over the pre-come staining the shaft and spread it around, angling him as he groans ahead of you. His thick fingers weave through your hair, forcing your head upwards as he starts leaving savage kisses over your neck; biting and making you grip him tighter with a moan, “So big. The perfect cock for splitting me open. No one else could take me like you can.”
“Shit,” John shakes, fingers digging into your side, “So nice to me, Love.” Your hand lines him up with your pussy, moving the tip around your hole before letting yourself begin to sink down. 
He fills you inch by inch, and you feel the ache in your hips as you bring your lip to your mouth, biting down to silence the loud sounds that are trying to escape from you. Stuttering, John’s teeth sink into the skin behind your ear as you bottom out a heavy minute later, both of your chests banging against each other as you gasp for breath. The trimmed hair over his pelvis is just as coarse as his beard, leaving you itching to move. Maybe you can ride his face after this – get that perfect beard burn in between your thighs.
“Feel so fucken’ good round me, Sweetheart,” John grunts, not able to stop the light roll of his hips as he moves his lips to yours, sealing them with an open-mouth kiss that leaves saliva dripping down between the two of you to where you’re joined, splattering over his abs, “But I need you to move, yeah?” 
So tight, You notice how you’re gripping John’s cock inside you like a vice, stretching so satisfyingly around him that you have to look down to see it for yourself. Your gaze flickers to see with a pleasure-drunk sheen; eyes widening. You find John stuffed so beautifully inside you that you have to restrain yourself from coming at the sight of it, engorged member spreading you open as your slick glistens at the base, How did he even fit? 
Your walls flutter in arousal, feeling filled so completely and seeing the bulge in your stomach. 
“Fucken’ bloody hell,” John whimpers, head tilting back to slam into the headboard harshly. He fills his chest with air, and before you have a chance to adjust his hips snap up, leaving you yammering in surprise; a loud whine leaves you breathless and falling into his chest for support. 
He hits that spot without even trying, moving your body up as he plants his feet and uses you like a fuck-toy. Sweat drips down his nose. Your jewelry clinks together, giving you something else to hear besides the sound of slapping skin and fluids squelching as John pounds into you. 
You chant your Captain’s name as you feel one of his hands travel to your clit, flicking it while the other controls your movement. Up and down. The bed creaks as you arch, mind losing all function as your nails drag down John's chest, leaving deep red claw marks behind. 
“No one else makes you feel like this, huh,” John growls, his eyes traveling your disheveled frame as he sends a particularly heavy thrust up into you that kisses your cervix. You writhe as he continues, mouth open and letting him do whatever he wants to you, “No one can make you this cock-dumb, can they? No, my good girl needs me to treat her right, is that it?” 
His jaw clenches, and he spreads his thighs even wider, making your own respond in turn and letting him hit even deeper.
“Answer me, Love. Come on,” John snaps his hand over your ass, and the resounding sound of the contact makes you tighten around him as your slick paints his abdomen with a clear sheen, “Can’t have you goin’ already on me. Haven’t even gotten to the good part.”
Your eyes roll back for a moment, head limp. You don’t even care who can hear you at the moment as your sounds bounce off the walls before fingers go around your jaw, forcing your head up to stare directly into John’s beautiful blues. His pace slows torturously and you gasp in desperation.
“Answer me.”
“No one!” You yell, eyes wet and glossy, “No one, John! F-fill me up, please,” You whine, words slurring as your body pointlessly shivers; tears track down your face as you beg, “Need your c-come in me. Please, Captain. Feels so good with your cock hitting me just right, paint my insides with your come, please!” 
The sounds you were making were downright pornographic, and you swore you heard someone banging on the walls to try and shut the two of you up. 
Not that that made you both slow down. 
“Gonna leave you dripping with me, Love,” John’s fast pace returns, becoming erratic, hips slamming into your own becoming almost too much with his hand returning to circle your clit. You whine with overstimulation, legs trying fruitlessly to close as that coil builds violently once more, “Won’t be able to bloody walk tomorrow after I’m done with you. Fuck, just how you like it. Gonna leave you drooling, yeah?” 
“Yeah…yeah…yeah,” You pant, heart pounding as John’s cock curves up into your womb, “love being cock-drunk ‘cause of you, C-captain.”
“Good girl, that’s right.” Your walls tighten one last time, and as John connects his lips with yours the line snaps as you come on his cock, gushing as he guides you through your orgasm with his still pistoning hips. The sound of the wet thrusting nearly makes you pass out, and as you released a high-pitched keen into your lover's mouth, he does the same. 
“Bloody Fucken’...!”
Your own pleasure had triggered his, and with a few sloppy thrusts later, his seed is coating your insides white with a chest-rumbling groan. You feel the combined fluids slide between the ring you two had made as you fit together, pooling to corrupt both of your flesh. But that was alright -- it simply becomes even easier to fuck like that. 
John ruts into you still, cock softening even as it seems he could go more rounds. But today had been long. You sit pleasure-drunk on his chest as your body is moved back and forth by those soft, slick, thrusts, your own hips casually rocking as drool falls from the corner of your mouth. Your eyes had gained a faraway look to them.
Your nerves sing with satisfaction, your womb feeling full and dripping with his seed. Nothing made you feel this good; made your legs feel so numb and shakey.
“You alright, Love?” John pants, beard coming to scratch your temple as he whispers in your ear, “didn’t go too hard on you, I hope.”  
You smirk, moving your head to kiss his chest, licking over the purple and blue bruises you had given him. He sucks in a breath, and inside of you his cock twitches; your abused walls clenching. 
“I’m fine.” You let out a sigh, sucking in greedy breaths right after, “But I think the others might hate us tomorrow. Someone was banging on the wall a while ago.”
John lays a kiss on the side of your head, catching a drop of sweat on his lips as your fucked-out eyes go to look up at him.
“Then they’re really going to like what I do to you next.”
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Let's Be Honest, If You Could Hop Dimensions, You'd Save Eddie Munson Too <- AO3 LINK
(Please give my Steddie+Original NonBinary Time/Dimension Traveling Character fic a shot? I'm writing again, and I need validation, please REBLOG. Steve Harrington isn't the only one with a Praise Kink around here. 🫠)
It's a very unserious comedy/adventure- Featuring a Non Binary Character named Haven (this is not a self insert). They are a badass Dimension/Time Traveler who shows up for Eddie. It's hard not to fall for the OP baddie who comes specifically to save your ass, so naturally Eddie falls for them, then Haven helps Eddie see he can have it all and they quickly rope Steve into their shenanigans. This ain't a slow burn, but because it's the Apocalypse you'd think, 'there's barely any time for make-outs and cuddles'... but when Boys in Crop Tops are involved, we make time...
Also, it features a lovely scene where Eddie is in disguise and Steve cannot for the life of him 🥵...
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<Artwork above is my own creation assisted by AI> ...with a little helping of original art inspired by the scene from @DrawingRune on Twitter ...
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Summary:
Getting dropped into the Stranger Things Universe in the boathouse where Eddie Munson is currently hiding out could have gone better. Unfortunately, dimension traveling isn't an exact science. Honestly, its kind of a shot in the dark at the best of times.
At least they landed near the person they were looking for.
The timing could have been better.
And they had some notes on the point of arrival.
Being that it was just behind the boat where Eddie was currently hiding under a tarp, in fear for his life. Would have been a smoother entrance if it had been about six feet over, in the actual boathouse, and three feet above the water instead of below it.
Relationships:
Eddie Munson/Original Character, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington/Original Character, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson/Original Character, Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler
Additional Tags:
Fix-It, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Dimension Travel, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has ADHD, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Hurt Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Steve Harrington Needs Love, Steve Harrington Has a Praise Kink, Wingman Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley Loves Nancy Wheeler, Bisexual Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley Has ADHD, Nancy Wheeler is a Mess, Protective Eleven | Jane Hopper, Pansexual Eleven | Jane Hopper, Polyamory, Polyamorous Characters, Polyamory Negotiations, non binary character, Polyamory is the answer to everything, Gaybies, everyone is a little gay, Comedy, Don't delude yourself, you were thinking about going to save Eddie too, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Don't worry it's only Jason, Creepy Henry Creel | One | Vecna, Sorry Vecna there's a new Baddie in town, Thy name is Haven
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lord-squiggletits · 2 years
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Now I may be overgeneralizing a bit, but I feel like in certain fics as well as the audiences for those fics, there's a weird tendency for the writers/audience to treat Optimus as if he's some sort of goody two shoes who doesn't care about his own race because of his love/respect for organics and it like...bothers the hell out of me honestly lol.
Like if you would rather focus on Cybertronian politics and ignore/even retcon out the organic destruction caused by the war, I totally get it. People find the Cybertronian politics way more interesting, there's not really as much lore on the aliens of the TF universe besides humans, you're tired of the Decepticons being bad guys, yeah like I get it.
I just find it incredibly off-putting when people (in fics or otherwise) try to frame Optimus prioritizing organics as legitimate criticism of him when it's not?????? Like his stance across multiple continuities is universally "organics are equal beings to us, we brought the war to their planets, they don't deserve to be hurt or exploited by us" and I don't fucking get how people can possibly frame that as a bad thing. HOW are mfs in this fandom treating Optimus as if his empathy/care for organic races makes him annoying or self-righteous or selfish like what.
#squiggposting#like idk i may be thinking of a few specific fics/authors#but it kind of really annoys me#because i see fics where optimus gets told that he cares more about aliens than cybertronians#or things along that line#and instead of OP making the very obvious case of how this is a bigoted and distorted viewpoint#the writer just has OP sputter ineffectually or like admit that he needs to propritize cyberteonians#when this is in the context of like decepticons (or megatron since i read megop)#being openly racist and disdainful towards organics#like youre not actually making an insightful criticism of optimus here lmao#youre just sweeping the whole colonialism thing under the rug#and acting as if optimus is some unrealistic self righteous goody two shoes whos being unfair to decepticons#for the crime of uh (looks at writing on hands) thinking colonialism racism and genocide are bad#there's this one super popular fic where like#the author basically writes optimus as an ineffectual ignorant moron#who cant even defend his own principles against megatron and ends up giving up on the inherent goodness of the universe#and ppl in the comment section were saying how this is an actual good optimus#(while shitting on idw optimus incidentally)#and i'm like. so you claim to love optimus but the depiction of him that you praise#is one where some of his most defining traits (universal love and respect for all beings)#is framed as a foolish delusion#and where optimus himself is too stupid and ineloquent to defend his view against megatron#and you call yourself a fucking optimus fan??? lmao#you just want optimus to be Nice without actually having a cause to stand up for#with a bonus dash of writing megatron like he's right about everything#and optimus just sits and takes his bullshit#sorry this became a rant against one particular interpretation lol#point is a lot of people try to criticize OP and the autobots in fuck-wild stupid ass ways#and it's really annoying lmao
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choweyy · 1 year
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relationship | Roronoa Zoro
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summary : you're cute and shorty, and here is how y'all met, date, and just how your relationship is!
character : Roronoa Zoro (One Piece)
a/n : my last post (2 days ago) got 51 notes 😨😨 thank you y'all ily and that gives me the courage to write again :)
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how you two met and his first impression!
you two met in your village when he walks around (and get lost there) then he asks you how to get back to the harbor because he got lost, you decided to walks him there because if you're not, he'll got lost again- when you two walks to the harbor (it's kind of far from where you two met) you're telling him sooooo many things about the village, your childhood, etc.
his first impression are that you're a little annoying 💀 but later he thinks that you're kind of cute because you're easily startled at little things! when there is a frog jumped so high from the bush, you jumped and gasped and he laughed a little at you and mimicking how you jumped.
later, you're joined the strawhat pirates! they loves your personality (SANJI GOES INSANE) and you're good at fist-fighting (is it what it's called? idk) and you're kind of funny! oh how they adores you, they would fight to gives you the moon-
how he realized he likes you
when you thanked him for helping you to exercise at the crow's nest, he felt a weird feeling in his stomach and his body feels warm, he tells chopper about it (sort of thought it's fever) and chopper goes "???" and then he asked nami about it and she tells him "you liked her~ zoro got a crush~ 🤭🤭" and starts to tells him how to confessing and date someone if he gave her a billion berry- well he just went "😦" and just do it in his way in the end..
how he confess to you and dating you
after he helped you reach something that was high, you thanked him and he said "yea you're welcome babe" and you went "huh??" and he asked you for a date in next island, and of course you agreed, you liked him too since some months ago! and when you two goes to an amusement park at the island, he asked you to be his gf and you agreed to him and you two holding hands while walks around (so he don't get lost-) and when you're tired, he just carries you like an koala (and he carries the plushies that he won for you ^^) and brings you back to sleep
his nicknames for you!
shorty
little one
baby (in private, he's a shy man at public)
kitten (in private too)
love (yes, in private)
his love language!
in public : acts of service and sometimes words of affirmation
in private : acts of service, physical touch, words of affirmation
how you two acts in public vs in private >:)
in public : he's neutral about pda, maybe just pinky links and some pats in head, and some hugs
in private : he's actually soo much into physical touch <33 hugs? smooches? pats? spooning each other while asleep? he'll do it all! he loves you THAT much <3
♡————————————————————————♡
a/n : yayyy that's itt i guess i'll just make short fics :) maybe next for op i'll make headcanons for some op or opla characters headcanons! <3
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ringdabel · 9 months
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My thoughts on OP ships except im being 100% honest (P.1)
*LuNami - Cute but im not a big fan of it - Autisum and girlboss frfr - idm if its canon! I mean i like their moments of hugging and all, they're all so silly and i absolutely adore them! ^^ *LuHan - Nah... HARD pass... - I do not ship them at all and refuses to - their age gap is 12 and i think personally Boa is just having some kind of highschool crush -if this ship becomes canon...... bro im gonna stare in the distance and cry - If you ship these two...... NO OFFENSE! But What is wrong with you :[ *LuZo/ZoLu - MY EMOTINAL SUPPORT SHIP YIPPIEEEEE - They are so SO CANON u cannot convince me otherwise!!! - Dumb and Dumber. - I love and ADORE their dynamic! their interactions, first meetings, etc... EVERYTHING THEYRE SOOO CUTE AGHHCBSDBIL <3333 - The crew KNOWS they love eachother. They know what they are. - shamelessly kisses eachother goodnight - Zoro will die for Luffy, and Luffy will stop him. *LuSan/Sanlu - ONE OF MY FAV SHIPS EVER!!! Their interactions!! >>>>>> - WE KNOW SANJI LOVES HIM AND ADORES HIM. WE KNOW THAT ALREADY YOU FRENCH FRY - He wants to be Luffy's special boy in the OPLA, c'mon, its so obv - Sanji gets jealous when Luffy compliments other cooks other than him, its canon guys, trust me. MOVIE 6, THAT PHYSILOGICAL HORROR MOVIE OF OP. *ZoSanLu/ZoLuSan -POWER POLY LOVERS ON TOP! -i love them. *cries* -I have 400 pages of fanart featuring these stupid boneheads. - they sleep together and Luffy steals all the blankets - Zoro will def giving them his earings. aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh *LuKob/Koblu -Comfort ship of mine!!! THEYRE SO CUTE ITS ILLEGAL!!!! - I want them to reunite again, then hold hands and kiss eachother on the lips then go on cute little dates :[ - LUFFY IS KOBY'S GAY AWAKENING CHANGE MY MIND (i feel like hes more like bi or pan BUT) - Koby owns 6000 wanted posters of Luffy and its canon that he wants more of them. hes such a fanboy omg.... - If they ever date... they will have a matching handmade bracelet... Luffy's red and Koby's pink.... each has letters of eachother... - (ALSO THERES THIS FAV FIC OF THEM FROM AO3, THE AUTHOR IS okiedokeTM (madelinescribbles) AND THE FIC IS CALLED "Koby's Awful No-Good Very Confusing Day" CHECK IT OUT IF YOU CAN!!!!) - im very normal abt them (lie) *LuUso/UsoLu - Very cute ship!!1 - i personally see them as best friends more but its still verey cute! - They bond, they hug, they hit and they danced. yeah i get how ppl ship them!!!!!!!!! *LuLaw/Lawlu -Tbh.... its very cute! - i used to be obsessed with this ship bcs their dyanmic is so interesting, like Black cat and golden retriver! - i still kinda do ndcnas - Luffy reminds Law of Corazon bcs of his goofiness ughh CRIES - I hc Law that he has a soft spot for silly, goofy ppl, his sister, his crew, Corazon, LUFFY????????? He loves them but will never admit smh smh - When he ruins all of your well-planned plans that took you a whole week to make <3333333 *CobyLuLaw/KobyLawLu -AYEEEEEEEEEEE MY NEW FAV SHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!! - F**K BEING UNDERRATED, I WANT THIS TO BE KNOWN ACROSS THE WHOLE F**KING WORLD!!!!!! - PLSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS ITS SO CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! U HAVE TO WRITE FICS ABT IT I NEED MORE OF IT!!!1 - I want to thank @orange-artist for drawing and having KobyLawLu on my breakfast table!!!!!!!!!! - AND FOR YOU THE PPL WHO WRITE THE FICS ILY - me omw to make brainrots of these three stupid peas in a pod, fishes in a bowl, pens in a pencilcase :]]]
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cozage · 1 year
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Hi! :)feel free to decline this if it’s not up your ally or you don’t really have anything else to say about it but, I was very interested when you mentioned law having anxiety about if the amber lead disease would be passed down to his kid, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little offshoot of that (hcs/short fic/whatever format you want) about law and his partner trying to ease each other’s anxieties about it and just how he’d handle it in the long term plus maybe if it wasn’t able to be told if they had it or not before it was born seeing Law finally get to see the kid and his reaction him it having/not having it (it’s up to you what kind of route you’d want to take with that) but anyways it’s just a suggestion because I was really interested once you brought the idea up of how Law would handle something he’s probably tried to block out of his mind since he was young
The post that anon is talking about for reference
Guess what Anon? This is literally the best ask I’ve ever gotten because I think about it ALL the time and all the possible outcomes of that one little thing and I will literally never shut up about it. So here’s some fun* ideas on how I think Law would respond to bringing a child into the world. 
*these are not fun they're so angsty it's not even funny
Transmission
Characters: female reader x Law
Word Count: 1k
CW: talk of abortion, talk about loss of pregnancy, talk of fatal diseases, lots of pregnancy angst, (happy ending though if that makes up for it!)
He runs a scan and finds out he has a lot to worry about. You can see the panic on his face and you know your fear was not misplaced. You’re pregnant.
His shoulders suddenly feel so heavy. Like a weight he is forced to carry, no matter how many times he tries to cast it aside. 
He doesn’t tell you about the burden. Not yet. You all talk through your options together, and you consider them heavily. You weigh the pros and cons of each option for days, but he doesn’t ever try to sway you one way or another. 
In fact, he becomes very distant. He locks himself away in the study, turning through a new book everyday. You can enter his study whenever you wish, but he barely acknowledges your entrance.
One day you’re talking about it with him, trying to decide what to do. It had only been about a week and a half since you found out, and Law’s cold shoulder has impacted you a bit. “What do you want to do?” you ask him.
He doesn’t respond. His nose is buried in a book, and you realize he hasn’t been listening the entire time. You suddenly burst into tears, upset with him and his coldness to you recently. “Just get it out,” you cry, punching at your stomach with your fists. “Get it out of me so we can get back to normal again.”
He looks up, surprised by your sudden outburst. “Hey, Y/N-ya! Stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!” He jumps up and grabs your wrists to keep you from harming yourself further. 
“I’m tired of being alone!” you cry out, tears streaming down your face. “You can’t even look at me anymore! I just want things to be normal again.”
He’s staring at you, unsure of what to do or how to respond. He guides you over to a chair, still holding your wrists, and sits you down in it. He sits across from you. “I need to tell you a story,” he whispers, and he has your full attention.
He tells you the story of Flevance, and of the Amber Lead Disease he inherited. How his entire city disappeared in a matter of years. How there was no cure. How he was the only survivor.
You had known a piece of that story. Law had told you about Corazon and that he had helped secure the Op-Op fruit for Law to find a cure for his disease. But you hadn’t known the rest of the tragedy. 
“I’m scared,” he admits, his voice quivering. “Amber Lead Disease is passed down from generation to generation, and shortens the lifespan each time it’s passed on. My sister got sick when she was six. I was supposed to die before I was fourteen.”
“But you got better. You’re okay now,” you reassured him. But you could feel the panic growing inside of you now too. Of course he didn’t want to talk about a child with this kind of trauma weighing on his mind.
“It doesn’t mean that the symptoms are gone. Each generation, the life expectancies go down at least ten years. What if…” he hesitates, and you can feel his grip around your wrists tighten as he squeezes his eyes shut. “What if our child dies before it’s even born?”
You can feel his pain and his sorrow emitting from him. You lean forward and wrap him in a hug, holding him tight. You can hear him choke back a sob, and you allow yourself to cry too. Both of you just hold each other, letting all of your fear and anger and sorrow wash away with your tears. 
Both of you start to calm down after a very long cry. “I want to keep it,” you say finally. “I want to try.”
You feel Law nod, and his body relaxes just a minuscule amount. At least he won’t be alone this time. At least he’s cured it before. 
During the pregnancy, he’s more stressed than you. It’s a weird relationship having Law as both your boyfriend and your doctor, and sometimes you have to remind him which hat he’s wearing. 
He’s always giving you vitamin supplements in the morning and making sure your diet is perfectly balanced. Sometimes you go to eat something and he starts with “as a pregnant woman, you shouldn’t-” but a quick glare will usually quiet him down.
You have checkups and he runs scans on your body at least once a week. There are nights he can’t sleep, his mind riddled with what if’s, and he has to do a quick scan just to make sure you and baby are still okay. He breathes a sigh of relief each time your scan comes back clean, but he doesn’t let himself get too comfortable. 
Both of you have your days. Some days you’re over the moon, others you feel like your lives are ending. It’s a hard middle to find. Both of you typically stick to the extremes and manage to mellow each other out while also validating each other's fears.  
He cries when he finds out it’s a girl. 
He cries even harder when you offer up a name. Cora.
His devil fruit ability makes the childbirth thing insanely easy. The “pain of childbirth” was a foreign concept to you for the most part. 
He counts Cora’s fingers and toes, and then counts them again. 10 fingers, 10 toes. She’s perfect. Just looking at her, Law already knows he would die for her. 
He wraps his sweet baby girl up in a blanket and passes her off to you. He brushes your hair and kisses your face while you hold her. He’s resisting the urge to run every scan he can think of. You were adamant that the three of you needed a few minutes together as a family before he went full doctor on you both. 
Finally you hand Cora off to him. “Go ahead, I know it’s driving you crazy.” He scans her, and finds her completely healthy. No Amber Lead Disease, no sickness, not even a slightly abnormal temperature. Law holds Cora close to his heart and he weeps. For his family, for himself, and for the new generation that’s finally free.
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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months
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SORRY FOR THE SPAM OP!!! simply magnificent menu here theres sm yummy fics !! anywho!!!! :3
would like to request jax having a softspot for the reader, thinking like "theyre dumb but only i can call them dumb" type of vibe ♡ bullied a bit less than others and behind closed doors, away from prying eyes hes so clingy!! c:<
Jax w/ a soft spot for the reader !
dont worry about the spam! i kind of just mentally block out spam stuff for this account, especially since i started taking TADC requests TToTT and ueueueue thank you!!
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honestly this is more or less basically what i write for romantic jax x readers/ stuff where reader and jax are close friends so this post may focus more on the clinginess factor, since i dont think ive written a clingy jax thing yet!
he tries to be sneaky about having you as his favorite, but the others have noticed that he takes it easy on you... lucky... hisshiss... i think this leads to some of the others teasing you, maybe.... but now that i write that i cant think of anyone in particular who would.... maybe ragatha, but like, non malicious teasing, you know? perhaps caine as well, also non maliciously
the others just keep quiet or just dont care (cough cough zooble)
tries to play it cool when defending you, cant be seen having a sweet spot for anyone here... though again im not sure who would be mean or rude to you... perhaps someone snapping at you and being snide after a hard day or a rough patch in a IHA? i can see zooble getting snappy, i think... kinger has probably accidentally screamed at you but like, because you startled him.. probably ended with jax getting onto him
thinks
as for behind closed doors.. i think jax would deny any accusations of being clingy and affectionate, i mean he has to keep up his image..! shut up hes not cuddling you, hes just trapping you under him to annoy you! no hes not hugging you, hes trying to pick you up so he can toss you! hush!
things like that you know
probably gets pouty, or even whiny, when you need to leave the room to go do something, this man does not want the cuddle session to be cut short
things
very touchy i think, loves having an arm slung around your shoulders while you two are together... his version of handholding, pretty much..
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mal3vol3nt · 3 months
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This is kinda a long read. But I wanna ask your opinion on this. I see this one post saying Zutara is a purely female fantasy and that’s why so many people hate it. Basically saying it was made for girls, by girls, it has everything a girl wants in a relationship and “When people attack the idea of Zutara, this is fundamentally what they're attacking-women and girls wanting better for themselves in a relationship.”
Now I am just a man. But I think this argument especially the latter part is such a reach and a cope. I don’t see how shipping a fanon ship is some big feminist thing. There are women I know who love Kataang (and if you ask me most of what they’re describing Zutara is actually Kataang in disguise) and there are some guys who like Zutara (which is perfectly fine as long as you don’t write a slave-fic about it like this one guy.
Call me insensitive, but it seems like this guy has some weird victim complex.
Here’s the link BTW:
https://www.tumblr.com/longing-for-rain/753424994905800704/this-isnt-a-question-about-whether-or-not-zutara?source=share
i agree with you anon. i think it’s very silly that these people think a fandom ship is the peak of activism/feminism. such a claim, dare i say, reeks of white feminism, especially when you take into account that the ship they’re claiming is “so feminist” is a relationship between a canonical colonizer and a victim of genocide
the things the op of that zutara post listed are all very westernized “issues” that they claim shipping zutara is supposedly fighting against while also praising western standards, such as saying that zutara is for the girls who want to be with a man they’re attracted to, directly saying that aang is unattractive because he doesn’t fit western beauty standards whereas zuko does. as well as saying zutara is for the girls who want passion in their relationships, directly saying that zuko’s hot-headedness and western masculine qualities are hotter than aang’s pacifism and him being a monk. this claim is also pretty on par with how zutaras sexualize the relationship between zuko and katara, which i don’t even want to get into for obvious reasons. needless to say, i think all of these claims are very very stupid and so obviously come from someone who gravitates towards the racism of the show. sorry not sorry
these claims also come from someone who twists aang’s character so that they feel more justified in hating him, and who twist katara and zuko’s characters so their ship works better. because at no point in the show does it ever feel like katara is changing herself to be with aang, as if she would ever do that (i can tell this is a southern raiders argument—i swear these people misread and latch onto everything). at no point in the show does it ever feel like katara is unattracted to aang, especially since she’s the one who initiates both the first and the last kiss between them, is constantly touching him, and gives him kisses on the cheek in a way she doesn’t do with any one else (she also audibly gasps when she first sees his tattoos in episode 1, which could be read as just her being shocked because she’s never seen airbender tattoos before, but considering the fact her crush on him develops quickly by the beginning of book 2 and she marries him, i wouldn’t be surprised if she also liked the way they looked). all claims that fall back on katara forcing herself to be with aang for whatever reason are projection because 1) katara would never do that. she is not the kind of girl to force herself into any position that doesn’t make her happy, and we see her actively set boundaries with aang in canon, so she is obviously comfortable making her wants known, and 2) katara clearly doesn’t see things through the same lens as her so-called fans. just because you had a crush on zuko doesn’t mean that katara should too, and just because aang isn’t your type doesn’t mean he can’t be her type. yall are projecting onto her
the whole “zutara is for the girls” and “kataang is the male gaze” is so stupid because no, that’s not how that shit works and is a take that is so very american/western that i fail to take it seriously. and yes, i know atla is a western-created show with a western-intended audience, but the characters in the show aren’t and i feel it’s important to acknowledge that
now, i’m a girl (or a woman i should say, 19 years old lmao). and i live in a very patriarchal society and have dealt with sexist standards being forced onto me from my latino culture and family my whole life. it didn’t, however, take long for me to realize that i was unhappy with that way of life and have actively detached myself from it, instead gravitating towards fighting for and recognizing my freedom to choose. this is a freedom i believe all women should have, and i have dedicated myself to learning of the injustices women go through all over the world and do my best to fight against them from where i live. i detest the patriarchy and all things created that demean women or force them into any one role. i am also a lesbian who hardly ever thinks of men lmao. yet miraculously, i am a kataang shipper. according to these zutara stans, im a misogynist who prioritizes male pleasure and happiness. yet from what i know of myself, that’s not at all true. i couldn’t give less of a fuck about patriarchal standards and actively avoid them in the media i consume as much as i can. but i think kataang is cute and i turn away from the thought of zutara, so either one of two things are true:
kataang is for the girls and zutara is the male-gaze
or fictional character shipping has fuck all to do with activism and the kind of person you are in real life
i’m gonna go out on a limb and say number 2 is correct. whether you’re a zutara shipper or a kataang shipper, i don’t think that’s an instant tell of the kind of person you are in your real life. it’s not an actual tell of what you value and yall look ridiculous trying to paint one ship as better than the other on an innate moral level
at the end of the day, this is fandom shipping. you can be a horrible person who engages in shipping content and still be a horrible person at the end of the day regardless of which ship suits your fancy. cause it doesn’t fucking matter. neither of the ships are morally superior to the other in any way that has importance in the real world. yall need to get offline i swear
now personally, i think kataang is an infinitely better ship than zutara for many reasons that i have discussed before, so yall will never catch me saying kataang and zutara are equal in any other context but this one lmao
also saying any colonizer x colonized ship is superior will never be taken seriously by me. you can enjoy those kind of ships all you want, but they’ll never be my cup of tea and that doesn’t make me or anyone else anti-feminist or whatever the fuck insult zks throw out. i just prefer my ships to be between people who haven’t wiped out the other person’s race
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