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d3vils-island · 1 month ago

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It’s Criminal (79’)

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Dave Mustaine x Fem!reader

1,569 words

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Important Authors Note!!!: I originally came up with this idea when I found out Dave stole his first guitar! So this is where the fanfic idea came from.

Description: You decide to rob a guitar store for some quick, easy cash. However, you never expected to run into your ex high school boyfriend…

Warnings: PORN W/ PLOT!!! (As always, I’ll mark with three “^” when the good part starts) p in v, creampies, reader is on top, cowgirl position, praise.

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You creeped your car through the back of the shopping mall, your lights off, trying to find the backdoor to the music store. Your eyes traveled from door to door, finally landing on the one that said “Guitar Center”.

“Perfect.” You muttered, pulling your car up to the side of the building, parking it and getting out. You opened the door to the backseat, grabbing your bag that had a flashlight, knife, etc. You walked up to the door and cut your knife through the slit that the lock was on, opening it silently and propping the door open with a rock that was to the side.

As soon as you entered, you starting swiping anything you could re-sell. Guitar strings? Might come in handy. Picks? Heck yea. Oh, and don’t forget about all the guitars in the wall.

You started grabbing two guitars at a time by the necks, bringing them out to your car and tossing them in the trunk. Just as you finished putting two in there, you heard someone’s footsteps behind you.

Startled, you grabbed the knife out of your pocket and turned to see who it was, but no one was there. The only thing that could be heard was crickets chirping and the wind through the trees. You quietly stepped in the door, looking around the guitar center to see if anyone was there.

“I must be fucking crazy.” You whispered to yourself, turning down an isle of the store. A shadowy figure suddenly jumped out from the aisle, grabbing you by the shirt and pinning you against one of the shelves.

“What the fuck!?” You yelled as the stranger grabbed you. The moonlight through the door abled you to get a glimpse of the persons face. Dark eyes and long curly hair.

They had their forearm up against your neck, causing you to gasp for air. You put your hands up, expecting it to be an officer who trapped you. “Why are you here?” The man asked, his voice sounding a bit familiar.

“Wait a minute…” you muttered once you realized who was in front of you. “Dave??” You questioned. The man’s gaze softened and the pressure on your neck lightened.

“No fucking way…” he muttered. Dave let go of you, backing away. You gently rubbed the part of your neck he put his forearm on as it was a little sore.

When he moved, the moonlight let you get a better view of him, confirming he was who you thought he was. “What are you doing-“ before he could finish, there was police sirens and lights coming through the storefronts windows.

“Shit! We gotta go!” You yelled, grabbing his arm and taking him out to your car. He quickly got in the passenger seat as you got in the drivers seat, starting the vehicle and driving off off, making sure your lights were still off.

“Fuck! My car’s still back there!” Dave groaned. You swerved the car down another street. “We’ll just have to get it in the morning, as long as you parked it and turned it off.”

A few turns later, and the sirens couldn’t be heard, so you turned onto the curb and parked your car, turning it off.

Your hands were shaking and your heart was pounding. You turned to look at Dave and he has a pissed off expression on.

“You seriously just had to fuck up everything.” He groaned, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry?” You paused. “I fucked up everything? Nothing would have happened if you weren’t there! I bet it was your dumbass who set off the silent alarm!” You shoved his shoulder out of frustration.

“Yeah? Well at least you got to keep the pawned shit. I bet the cops are gonna look in my car, see the stolen stuff, then run my fucking license plate, and I’ll get arrested!” He lashed out.

You two bickered for a while, and eventually, you saw the red and blue lights in your peripheral. The sirens getting louder and louder with every passing second.

“No fucking way…” you whispered, cutting Dave off from finishing his insult. You bent down in your seat, getting out of view from the window. Dave followed after you, waiting for the cops to pass.

Thankfully, the police just drove by and didn’t stop next to you. Your heart was pounding even harder than before, and you heard Dave’s staggered breaths next to you.

Once the red and blue lights were no longer visible, you sat up, taking a long needed breath.

“I can’t believe I ran into you there out of all places.” You sighed, looking over at Dave.

It’s been a while since you two have seen each other. You remember meeting him once or twice at his gas station, but ever since high school, you two haven’t talked. What’s even funnier is you two were high school sweethearts, but since you graduated you’ve just drifted apart.

“You good?” He asked, snapping you out of your trance, realizing that he had been talking to you the whole time you were zoned out. “Huh? No yea, I’m good.” You paused, glancing into his eyes one more time. “What did you say?”

“I said that I’ve missed you.” Dave gazed at you. His lips formed a slight smile, and your heart started pounding in your chest. You stuttered over your words, not knowing how to react. Did you miss his warm touch? His laugh? His smile? Yes. Were you made he didn’t at all try and stay in touch with you? Yes— but now was the time to make up for all of that.

^ ^ ^

You leaned over the center console, grabbing Dave by the back of his neck and pressing your lips against his. It took Dave a moment to realize what was happening, but then he started moving his lips in sync with yours. His hands slid onto your hips, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

You parted your lips from his, staring into his eyes. His hair was messed up— courtesy of you— and his lips were slightly apart, along with his breath being heavy and his face being a deep shade of red.

“I’ve missed this…” he groaned, slamming you into another kiss. Your tongues collided, fighting for dominance before you submitted, allowing him to take over your mouths. His hands slid under the thin fabric that was your shirt, moving to take it off before you grabbed his hands and stopped him, jerking your head towards the back seat.

“Don’t have to tell me twice…” he cooed, opening the car door and getting into the backseat with you.

Once you two crawled in the back, your hands started roaming each other’s bodies desperately, taking off every article of clothing you could from one another. The cold air hit your delicate skin, causing you to shiver, but Dave’s warm hands roaming your body made you feel better. Once every piece of cloth was discarded on to the floorboard and you two were bare, Dave started kissing every part of you like he hadn’t in years; which was true. His butterfly kisses trailed across your body, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

His hands gripped your hips while you sat up, pressing your finger tips against his chest. He leaned back, watching you climb in top of him. He couldn’t control how exited he was to see you on top of him, a smirk tugging at his lips. You bent down, tangling your mouths together one last time before you started to sink onto his already rock-hard cock, both of your moans interrupting the kiss.

Once his entire length was nestled inside you, you sat for a moment, adjusting to the sudden feeling.

“So good for me…” He cooed, his words giving you a butterfly feeling in your stomach. Once you adjusted, you started to moving up and down on him, feeling his tip reach the deepest parts of you. Once you started moving, his grip on your hips tightened, his nails creating crescent-shaped red marks.

You supported yourself by having your hands on his shoulders, your mind clouded with pleasure as you sped up your pace, staring to grind.

Both of your grunts filled the car, the windows clouded from the contrast of temperature outside and that inside. You started to feel your body get tired, but you continued nonetheless.

As your grinding continued, you felt a wave of pleasure come closer and closer to the edge, threatening to fall off and crash over your tired and sweaty self. Your grip tightened on Dave shoulders, “fuck, I’m so close…” you whined out, increasing your pace. His grip tightened as well, definitely leaving obscene marks on your pretty skin.

“Fuck! Don’t stop-“ he grunted. You felt the string inside you tighten even more, before it finally snapped, pure ecstasy crashed over you as you rode out your high. You felt Dave cum inside you, his hot release filling you up.

You climbed off Dave and laid against his chest, too tired to put your clothes back on. Sweat dripped down your body and your legs shook. Dave gently rubbed his hand against your back as you listened to his heartbeat.

“I can’t believe my night ended up like this,” He paused as you both looked at each other.

“And it’s a night I wouldn’t change at all.”

#dave mustaine #megadeth #dave mustaine x reader #megadeth x reader #dave mustaine smut #megadeth smut #pwp #smut

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cashmoneychiyo · 2 years ago

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Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun Chapter 139, Part 2

Part 1 here [x]

Why yes, we have seen Hanamura-sensei before! Refer to Chapter 79 and the Volume 11 omakes to see her suffer from Maeno \o/

#gekkan shoujo nozaki kun #gsnk #monthly girls' nozaki kun #gsnktranslation #mod grolia #if the page about Nozaki's test confuses you basically Hanamura-sensei is shook at his very boyish name hahaha #and the contrast with his pen-name and signature #C-chan manju bun returns!!!

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vintagelasvegas · 6 months ago

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Postcards of Downtowner Motel, 129 N 8th St at Ogden – circa 70s, 80s. The motel was opened by local attorney Robert Cohen in '63. It has been owned and maintained by DTPLV since the 2010s.

When Cohen opened the Downtowner it was called the largest "apt-hotel" downtown with 93 rooms. The land was owned by the Pinjuv family and Cohen owned the motel, along with downtown’s MacDonald Hotel, Crest Hotel, and the Strip’s Vagabond/Center Strip Motel, totaling over 500 rooms in all.

In the late 70s he was indicted in a child prostitution ring. Failing to appear for arraignment on charges of sexual relations with a 14 year-old, Cohen fled the U.S. and sought asylum in Israel. He was disbarred by Nevada Supreme Court in '79. Brought back to Southern Nevada, he plead guilty to reduced charges of statutory rape and received three years probation. In the 80s he was found liable for robbery and assault to guests at Downtowner motel because he failed to provide security. At his Crest Hotel, carbon monoxide poisoning caused two deaths and send others to the hospital. Throughout it all he fought for and won the privilege of gaming license to maintain slot machines at his hotels.

Metro officer and future governor Joe Lombardo appeared on the television show COPS in '91 making an arrest at the motel.

“This place is nice now. When I was an EMS, we used to carry bodies out of here all the time.” – Nef, 2019

Notes & Bolts. Review-Journal, 10/1/63; Couple Awarded $167,000. Review-Journal, 6/22/84; Phil Pattee. Fumes blamed for deaths, 20 injuries. Review-Journal, 7/6/85 p1; Monica Caruso. LV motels plan to cash in on mega resort boom. Review-Journal, 1/9/94; John L. Smith. Legal quirks allow former fugitive to buck the system. Review-Journal, 2/23/97.

#Downtowner Motel

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specialinterestshows · 3 months ago

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See what your girlfriend is up to in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic, Absolute Smokeshow.

Warnings for this section: Jealousy, dirty talk, exhibitionism, groping, biting, possessive sex, praise, cheating, little bit of somno

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 79 of ?): Monday Night Mami

With every passing day, the monster within her grew more and more restless.

You should be fighting, it growled.

Show her what happens when she tries to get near what’s yours.

Rhea did everything she could to drown it out: training until she exhausted herself, fucking Dom until she exhausted him, extra-loud death metal - but the monster never slept. As soon as Tuesday rolled around, she was going to beat Jacy Jayne within an inch of her life.

Rhea shook her dark tresses, trying to stay level-headed and in the present. She was currently backstage at RAW - uncharacteristically alone, as she had encouraged Dom to join the rest of the Judgment Day for post-show drinks and other shenanigans. Rhea would still have about a day’s wait before she could get a match against Jacy - the perfect outlet for her mixed feelings regarding her girlfriend having slept with another woman - but the moment the door in front of her opened, she knew the figure walking toward her would be the perfect distraction in the meantime.

“Cathy Kelley,” Rhea smirked, pushing off from the wall she had been leaning on and eyeing the way the brunette’s outfit hugged her curves, “Is there anything you don’t look tempting in?”

“Ms. Ripley-“ Cathy began, before the raven-haired woman closed the space between them.

“No need to be so formal,” Rhea insisted, a finger gently but firmly pressing against Cathy’s lips as she continued in a whisper, “You can call me Mami.”

Cathy’s body language changed from flustered to coquettish as soon as she heard the seriousness in those words.

“What can I, uh,” Cathy batted her eyelashes as her hand alighted on Rhea’s shoulder, looking directly into the other woman’s hungry gaze, “What can I do for you?”

Rhea’s grin widened, the monster within her scratching at the surface as she moved her hands to Cathy’s waist.

“So glad you asked.”

Rhea hadn’t taken her eyes or hands off Cathy since the brunette had offered to pay for a ride so the both of them could retire to the privacy of Cathy’s hotel room. Rhea had to give their driver credit for remaining perfectly safe and respectful, despite the fact that she was sure he’d heard every single one of Cathy’s attempts at muffling the sounds she made as Rhea shamelessly groped and fondled her. Rhea’s lips found Cathy’s mouth as often as they did her neck, whispering dirty promises and depraved compliments in her ear between bites and kisses.

Rhea slid some extra cash across the center console to the driver as a tip when he dropped them off at the hotel.

“Thanks, mate,” she said before getting out, closing the car door, and putting a rough, possessive arm around Cathy.

The moment the two of them were alone in the elevator, Rhea’s hand dipped down between Cathy’s legs as she kissed her roughly. The desperate whine that escaped Cathy’s lips when those strong fingertips brushed against her panties was all the invitation Rhea needed to push her underwear to the side before sliding in one finger, then two. The whimpers coming from the woman she held made Rhea smirk as she expertly pumped her fingers in and out of that clenching wetness.

“Mami,” Cathy moaned, gripping the shirt of the woman inside of her, intoxicated by her touch, “Yes! Yes-!”

Rhea muffled the sounds that threatened to give them away with a kiss, her conquest writhing against her as she came. Cathy whispered “oh wow” and Rhea brought her fingers to her mouth, cleaning them with her tongue as the elevator gave a pleasant “ding,” announcing it had arrived at their floor.

“Are you always so vocal during your “private interviews”?” Rhea teased, putting her arm around the flushed woman when she noticed her stumble.

“Honest answer?” Cathy asked, pointing to the door of her room as she giggled.

“Unless you want to be punished,” Rhea teased, steering the brunette in the right direction.

“No one has ever made me feel this good before,” Cathy admitted, looking through her purse for her keycard to avoid eye contact, “That was the first time I… came with someone else.”

Rhea couldn’t stop her eyebrows from shooting up in surprise, regaining her composure quickly as she took the card from Cathy’s fidgeting hands, the two of them standing at the door to her room.

“I’ll make sure it won’t be the last,” Rhea promised, unlocking and opening the door before gesturing for Cathy to enter first, “Just let Mami make you feel good, darling.”

Cathy’s sense of balance seemed to be returning as she put a bit of extra swing in her hips, knowing she was being watched. As soon as Rhea closed the door behind them, her hands and mouth gravitated back to the other woman’s body.

“You don’t need those clothes,” she growled against Cathy’s skin, pawing at the cloth that separated her from the tender, waiting flesh underneath.

Cathy stripped down to her bra and underwear as Rhea kicked off her shoes and shirt, stopping at the sight of her conquest half-naked and mesmerized by Rhea’s tattoos. Instinct took over, the stronger woman hoisting the other over her shoulder, moving over to the bed, and dropping her down onto the mattress.

Cathy squealed with delight as she was moved about like a rag doll, giggles turning to moans as Rhea removed the rest of both their clothes, groping Cathy as she did so.

“Bet you’re so fucking tasty,” Rhea purred, trailing bites and kisses all the way down to the whimpering woman’s thighs before taking her in her mouth. With a flick of her tongue against the throbbing wetness, hands creeping up to Cathy’s chest, Rhea felt the sweet sensation of someone submitting to her power and craved more.

“Looks like Mami’s always right,” she commented, running her tongue ring against Cathy’s clit a few more times before standing up.

Rhea moved the breathless woman underneath her, spreading Cathy’s legs as she did her own until their cunts kissed. She admired the view this position afforded her for a moment before grinding against the submissive woman entirely for her own pleasure. Cathy seemed to be having the time of her life regardless, eyes rolling back as she came with a shudder.

“Mami!” she moaned over and over, the pauses in her sounds of pleasure accompanying the tensing of her body and the growing slickness between them. Rhea had lost count of how many times she’d made her come by the time she was approaching her own orgasm.

“Oh get ready, baby,” Rhea moaned, tightening her grip on Cathy’s thighs, “Mami’s going to come all over your sweet fucking cunt.”

True to her word, Rhea let wave after wave rock her body, eyes closed as she focused on how amazing every movement felt. The wet sounds that accompanied her release told her she was dripping down into the other woman, the monster within her humming with satisfaction at the thought of claiming another so fully.

“Fuck,” Rhea sighed, smiling as she collapsed on the bed next to Cathy, “Was that as good for you as it was for me?”

“Better,” she insisted, cuddling up to Rhea sleepily.

“Good girl.”

The incessant buzzing of her phone woke Rhea in the darkness. Grumbling to herself, she threw off the blanket and followed the sound.

Dom was calling.

What time was it?

When her eyes moved to the bed, Rhea smirked at the sight of Cathy’s naked, sleeping form tangled in the bedsheets.

I must’ve really tired her out, she thought to herself as she walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The second the door closed, Rhea answered just before the call could go to voicemail.

“Dom, I thought-“ she said, stopping the second she heard a series of shuffling noises on the other end.

Really? A butt-dial? Rhea sighed, massaging her temples as she imagined a drunk Dominik Mysterio adjusting the purple bandana in his pocket and accidentally tapping his screen.

Then, just when she was about to pull the phone away from her ear and hang up, the sounds changed.

“Fuck.”

It was Dom. Moaning.

“Mmm, JD, please-“

Rhea’s phone dropped, her hand trembling in rage. The moment it hit the bathroom floor, the screen cracked, but the light from it still shone and the sounds on the other end of the line were still audible.

“-keep bein’ a good lad and I’ll-“

Rhea leaned down and viciously tapped the screen to end the call before she could hear more.

But it was too late.

The monster had awoken once more, and she needed an outlet.

Kicking her phone across the tile, Rhea threw open the door and prowled toward the bed.

“Cathy,” she called in a singsong tone, watching the woman twitch in her sleep.

Rhea pulled the blanket down and crawled on top of Cathy, kissing, licking, and biting at her neck until she was moaning, eyes fluttering open as she gripped the sheets.

“Wake up, you dirty girl,” Rhea growled in her ear, “Mami wants to play.”

[end part seventy-nine of ?]

Part 80: “Last Call”

Tag list (thank you!)

@littlemiss-fanficlover , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister , @ripleylove , @beeposts , @teganc

#wwe fanfiction #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #rhea ripley x cathy kelley #cathy kelley #lady!reader #dominik mysterio x jd mcdonagh #specialinterestshows presents #absolute smokeshow

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year ago

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series masterlist

series summary: Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out what’s going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the town’s spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?

chapter summary: darkness falls, reader takes a trip down memory lane with eddie, corroded coffin performs, the things start to go bump in the night.

chapter warnings: major character death, violent death, minor character death, blood, gore, monster descriptions, slaughter.

CH 3. THE ROCKSTAR AND THE REDLIGHTS

The green puddle of freshly brewed puke slapped hard and wet along the ground.

Another victim of Eddie, who long ago threw away the rule book and Creels poem about ride times.

You slam another dollar into his outstretched cocky palm, hoping it stung.

“Well thank you m’lady,” he says, batting his eyelashes, his dimple digging deep into his cheek, “Eddie 3, Pebs zilch, zero, nothing!”

You shove him hard in the chest and it only makes him laugh harder, “c’mon sweetheart, you know I’m just fuckin with ya.” His big brown eyes squeeze at the edges and his lip turns to a frown when you throw up your chin and a middle finger his way.

“S’not fair,” you pout, “you have control of the rides!”

Eddie waves you off and pockets the cash, “Don’t be a sore loser.”

Arms crossed you stare high above him, “ ‘m not!”

You were.

Always had been.

Racing down the bumpy lane of Forest Hills Trailer park, Eddie’s clumsy ass would somehow always win, even when you had gotten new tennis shoes in the summer of ‘79.

You’d pout and Eddie would spend the rest of the day trying to win you over. You always were a flair for the dramatics, but he never did mind your pouty lips and furrowed brow.

In his eyes, there just wasn’t any other girl who could compare.

He slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a death grip of a hug. Pinning your arms tight against his chest so you couldn’t move, he shook his long hair in your face, the curls tickling your nose until you squealed, and gave up. A surprised heat in your cheeks.

He’s out of breath, a Cheshire grin on his face and deep huffs fan across the apples of your cheeks, fluttering your eyelashes. His grip hasn’t wavered, and you’re pretty sure you haven’t breathed at all as you look up at him, giggling.

His fingers move to your jaw, and down the slope of your neck, fingering the necklace and the neckline of your shirt.

Eddie blinks slowly and wets his lips, you can feel the pounding from both of your chests as you look up at him through your lashes with a stuttering breath.

“Still mad at me, baby?”

The shiver that runs down your body and hits like a lightning strike in your underwear is colossal. Baby. You’d hang onto that pet name the rest of your days.

“I never was.”

He smirks, and something that had been developing for years was suddenly flourishing, seeds planted and finally getting the sunlight and water that was needed to grow the crop.

Whatever breath you let out he inhaled, but before he could move in closer, the familiar clink of Creel’s cane was right beside you and you both straightened up and put on a serious face.

He looked deranged. You had never seen the black crumbled mess of teeth left in his mouth but suddenly they were on display, gums rotted, red and swollen around each jagged edge of decay.

“I'm pulling the plug on rides, we’re starting the concert early, get these kids off here, you got fifteen minutes, hurry up!” He barked, before clicking away his cane hitting the gravel as he muttered nonsense to himself.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie spins and quickly brings levers forward and backward, unlocking each basket full of teenagers and shooing them away.

Locking up the rides with the heavy chains and locks, you snap the padlock shut ensuring its strength and join Eddie in his quickened pace to the rear entrance of the carnival where the stage was set up for Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin.

Your mind is spinning with what ifs and did we just almost kiss? You wonder if he felt the same jolt of electricity you felt when you hadn’t leaned away from him. Wiping sweaty palms on your shorts you work hard on evening your breathing as you both stomped in the dirt with racing minds in silence towards the stage.

—

“One cotton candy, a small popcorn and a medium Coke, two straws.”

Steve pulls out his leather wallet and pays with a crisp fifty. Nancy frowns and rolls her eyes.

“What?” Steve says, nonchalantly, tucking the change back into his tight jeans having changed once all the ice cream was gone and he closed shop, “It’s all I have.”

Nancy sighs, “thank you,” she says to the man behind the booth counter, reaching up and grabbing the sweet and salty snacks.

The man grumbles something under his breath, and slams the window shut with a snap, flicking the lights off just as quick.

Nancy turns to follow Steve, matching his footsteps looking over her shoulder at the now foggy and desolate windows of the concessions booth they were just at.

“That was weird,” she said softly, mostly to herself.

Steve dives a large veiny hand into the popcorn, shoveling kernels into his mouth like he couldn’t get enough of the tasty treat.

“I know right?” He says crunching through the buttery snack, “five dollars for burnt popcorn that tastes like buttcrack, what a fucking ripoff.”

Nancy shakes her head, “yet you're still eating it?”

Steve ponders this but keeps eating, “I’m hungry Nance, Creel never gave me a break, and Robin fucking bailed on me.”

“You poor thing,” Nancy feigns to humor him, “need me to draw you a bath and rub your feet?”

“You can rub something else if you’re offer— okay! okay, it was a joke, jeez!”

Nancy thumped Steve one more time on his ear for good measure, “I meant that guy�� he didn’t seem right.”

Steve shrugs, “is anyone at this place? Fuck, look around.”

It was true, more people showed up to start working than any of you had anticipated, all looking stranger and sort of sickly, like they hadn’t seen daylight in years nor having the common skill to hold a conversation.

“I'm just happy this holiday is almost over, I hate Halloween. ” she shudders, allowing herself to be tucked into the crook of Steve’s arm, slurping the flat pop and grimacing at its soured taste.

—

The spray painted bed sheet reading “Corroded Coffin” rippled with the light breeze, the boys had already been setting up, Eddie’s warlock tucked safely into the worn guitar case by his microphone.

“Nervous?” you ask as he breeches the steps. Grabbing an amp and moving it around to his liking.

Eddie blows air through his mouth, as he lowers an amp down, “nah, never— its like breathing to me y’know? Second nature or whatever you wanna call it.”

You nod along , hiding a smile with your hand curled into your lips, and you don’t see the way he smiles at you. His muse. He’d written songs about you for years now, ones he scribbled into a composition notebook and shoved into the depths of his mattress and the wall.

His fingers reach out to pick a stray thread from the sleeve of your shirt, and the heat from his fingers pricks at your skin.

“Gonna be where I can see you?” he asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to relish in your words, knowing that you were here for him. And you’d be in the crowd, front and center staring up at him.

“Always am.”

And there it was again, the shock the magnets pulling you two together. Him leaning on one knee down to you and your face looking up at him like he hung the moon.

“Munson! Hurry up, that old creepy bastard didn’t give us any fuckin’ time!”

—-

The trees were spinning. She was certain of that. Robin may not have the greatest sense of direction and when she stumbled into the woods on floaty brain cells and twinkly red eyes, the thought of getting lost hadn’t crossed her mind once.

The hallucinations hadn’t stopped when she saw Vickie’s body hanging limply from that tree. She swore she heard two men yelling at each other, blaming one another for something they had lost.

After over an hour of tripping over branches and a sour smelling buck covered in its own blood, Robin finally emerged from the treeline, more confused than when she went in.

The screech from Eddie’s microphone made the crowd cover their ears in unison and he mutters a shit, sorry, with his hair hanging in his face.

The moon was large, shining a burnt dandelion yellow shaded by the dark indigo clouds.

You loved watching Corroded Coffin play. Going from their garage band days to performing on top of Eddie’s trailer for his birthday, and when they scored Tuesday nights at the Hideout— you, Eddie and the rest of the band drank until you were all sick, throwing up all over Jeff’s basement. Now they were playing a real outdoor event, and you couldn’t be more proud of your friend being one step closer to chasing his dreams.

They’d been playing for the better half of an hour, the crowd singing along to today's favorites heard on the radio, requested specifically by Creel. It didn’t take long for Eddie to learn them, his ears could tune a fart in a steel bucket.

Robin was clutching onto you, screaming lyrics along with Eddie and guzzling beer after warm beer, trying like hell to numb the feeling of rejection. She came stumbling out from a makeshift bar, a sinister look in her eyes, and when you asked what was going on— she shook her head and told you it was just the redrum.

The buzz you were feeling from earlier never left, and it was or like you’d seen Eddie in a whole new light. As if he had transformed before your very eyes, shaking free of his chrysalis and spreading the beauty of his wings.

His toothy wide smile. The dimples that caught in his cheeks whenever he found your eyes and winked your way. The way his curls lengthened and swayed across his back when he turned to Gareth and put a foot on his drum to thrash his guitar.

He was breathtaking.

The passion he held for music and the way it flowed through him was truly bewitching. And if you hadn’t known better you would have sworn you were under a trance.

He reeked of talent, and you knew he would go far, leaving Hawkins and you behind in a cloud of dust. The thought of his dream coming true left traitorous tears in your eyes and you wiped at them hastily.

When his guitar started to crane out, “Rocky Mountain Way” your heart fell into your stomach.

You remember the day he showed up on your doorstep, pants shorter than they should have been and out of breath, begging you to come over.

Did you do it?

His dimples already gave him away as he drug you behind him running all the way to Wayne’s trailer.

“Hurry P, hurry! Go on, sit down!”

“Alright Eddie,” you said in a pout, sitting down with a huff on the shag living room rug next to Wayne’s work boots, “ jeez you about tore my arm off! What’s going on?”

“Shh! I need to focus!”

Once you were situated, and his guitar was tuned up, he started the opening notes to the song. He tried to mimic his voice to Joe Walsh’s as best as he could, and even then he sounded good. His small hands flew over the frets with ease. He played the song over and over again in the cramped living room of Wayne’s trailer. And you stared in amazement.

“You can be my manager when I’m famous, Pebbles.” He had said, tuning his strings a little bit more.

You were sitting on the floor by his feet now, criss cross applesauce, writing a paper for your sixth grade History report.

Craning your neck up to look at him, you scowl, “what does that even mean?”

“I dunno really,” he admitted, sweeping his shoulder length hair from his eyes, and giving you a grin, “but it’s important enough that you’ll be rich too, and we can get out of here.”

He thought about that for a bit, his dad had just left again, his mom had only called once in the last year, promising she’d come back for him but never did, the only people he could count on was you and his uncle, sometimes Billy. “Maybe Wayne can come too.”

It felt real then, like getting out of Hawkins would only take a single tank of gas and the money problems wouldn’t be an issue, and now you wish it was that easy.

Another tear slips down your fac, and this time you don’t wipe it away.

“That bad?” Jonathan says loudly behind your left, wading through the crowd of people, brushing his bangs from his sweaty forehead, he’s followed by Steve and Nancy, holding hands and sharing a blue cloud puff of cotton candy.

“The opposite actually,” you answer, eyes gleaming in a sad way, your fingers hesitant against your mouth to stop your lips from quivering.

The five of you stand with eyes glued to the small rickety stage, in awe of how minor league you were compared to the rockstar vibes that illuminated him.

The crowd cheers when the song ends. And Jonathan clicks his camera behind you, taking shots of Corroded Coffin on stage.

“He’s a natural,” Nancy says, thumb in her mouth to suck the sugary gloss of melted sugar off, and Steve nods standing behind her resting his chin in her hair.

The stage lights look spooky under Eddie’s chin and the second he winks at you—it happens again. The lights flicker bright red for a mere second, and then blitz back to normal.

A screech.

And not from Eddie’s guitar or the wonky microphone. It was a loud, horrific scream. Sending pin pricks down your spine as it shattered through the night. The crowd went silent, looking around but wherever the screech came from went unnoticed. Hiding amongst the dense foggy treeline, waiting.

Robin is the only one not paying any kind to what was going on, moving her hips to the low strum of the song still playing in her head

You look up at Eddie with a confused look upon your face, waiting for him to offer the same expression, or a shrug, a look of what the fuck? But his eyes were trained forward like lasers— straight through the trees in the distance. As if he had some sort of ability to see something no one else could. A look you’ve never seen before that clouded his eyes, over taking his mind before he shook his head free.

His eyes meet yours again and before the second screech ends he’s jumping from the stage and grabbing your hand, his eyes were frighteningly dark and his voice caught in his throat and rubbed his vocal cords like a scratchy violin, “we need to go, NOW!”

The crowd filtered out, people ran in every direction in an attempt to avoid whatever was making that horrific noise, but you couldn’t see anything but the blur of families and the residents of Hawkins, Indiana running past you.

It happened fast, quicker than you could comprehend. He was yelling for you to run, to follow him. The same hands that just played the prettiest of songs were now wrapped around your wrist and dragging you behind him. The same ache in your shoulder you felt that day almost ten years ago when he ran with you to show you his learned talent returned and you would have smiled if you weren’t absolutely terrified. You could barely register not that your own feet were moving willingly.

It was like you were in a movie, and the VCR was on rewind. What the hell happened?

Steve was running in front of you, hollering for Nancy to keep up. Her tear stained cheeks were dirty and her lips were blue from the cotton candy.

Eddie’s jaw was set in a grit so tight his teeth were creaking under the pressure. You turned once to look behind you, and you wished you hadn’t.

It was a beast, a monster shaped like a malnourished man. Long spindly arms and legs, translucent leathery skin, it’s mouth replicated a flower, and glittered with hundreds of razor sharp teeth.

Its head was currently held high as it bellered loudly into the night, the blood from Chrissy Cunningham’s torso running down the flaps of its mouth, its taloned foot crushing her skull beneath it.

Carnival goers were running in every which direction, and Eddie was screaming at Steve to get to his van. Blood was sprayed around the ground like a sprinkler system had gone off, arms and limbs were tossed in the air as if they were nothing.

But the most terrifying thing of all was seeing Mr. Creel on stage, arms wide open, laughing maniacally.

—

He fumbled with the walkie from his backpack, the arena caught on the canvas lining, and when it finally breaks free, loose papers, a broken pencil and a special little scribble of two stick figures came flying out with it.

Frantic, he hits the button and begins his desperate attempt to get help.

“Dustin! Code Red! We have a code red! Do you copy? Over!”

Son-of-a-bitch!

“Mike! Will! Code red! What is your location? Over!”

Lucas had grabbed Max and ran as fast as he could into the top level of the fun house the second after he watched the demogorgan filet Mr. Clarke like a kabob on a grill.

It was back. But how?

He watched with his own eyes when El had closed the gates last time, hell he helped destroy that thing with bottle rockets and black cats. How was it back?

His back was pressed to the back of a distorted mirror, hip to hip with Max.

Max finally speaks, her normal glossy eyes were now clouded over in a milky trance, the same one that sprung the air from Lucas’ lungs whenever he saw it. But he knew her second sight was a sick gift from that night.

“Lucas…” her voice breaks, trembling in the delivery, “there’s more coming. He’s coming.”

—

“What the hell was that?!” Steve yelled as soon as Eddie’s van was close, he threw open the sliding door and shoved Nancy into the back seat, looking behind him for the monster. You slammed the front door shut and rolled the crank for the window, your arm pumping fast as the glass slid slowly into the doorframe.

“Demogorgan.” Eddie said matter of fact like as he finagled the keys into the ignition turning his wrist to start the van.

“A what?!” The three of you said in unison, if this weren’t a life or death situation, you would have said jinx.

The engine sputtered and shook as Eddie purred into the steering wheel with a frustrated yell as he slammed his fist onto the dash.

“A dem—fuck, look I’ll tell you everything— but first we need to get the hell out here!”

One more slam into the hood and Eddie’s heavy boot on the gas pedal— the van let out an exhausted sigh as it came to life.

You looked at the dilapidated remnants of the carnival, an orangey red glow from the center of the stage slivered open and cast an ominous light behind Creel.

Enormous slime covered black vines slithered and slinked as they broke from the underground, wrapping around the legs of unlucky onlookers and dragging them into the crimson abyss, drug straight to hell.

The lights around the grandstand all blurred that same angry hue of red you swore you had seen last night out your window.

Fingers wrap around your hand and from the rings you know it’s Eddie’s, he squeezes your hand and gives you a sad look, like a kicked dog.

The carnival looked like a scene that could only be described in a scary movie, but no matter how many times you blinked your eyes, it wouldn’t go away, this was real.

“Yo! Wait!”

The voice was familiar, California cool with a slight Midwest accent coming through from years of living in Hawkins.

You looked at Eddie, his bangs were stuck to his forehead with sweat. And his tongue was poking out in concentration.

From behind a car and hobbling on a broken leg was a long haired man, eyes wide and fear stricken as he waved his hands in the air.

Eddie cranked the lever into reverse, and squealed his tires when he threw the van into drive, ready to get you and everyone else away from this literal bell on earth.

“Whoa whoa wait! It’s Argyle!”

Nancy slid the van door open from the inside, screaming his name and trying to encourage him to run faster.

His clothes were ripped and haggard looking, his right arm was bleeding profusely, long claw marks that shredded his skin into limp ribbons, leaving the muscle and tissue exposed in a mixture of scarlet red and deep bronzed flesh.

He was only yards away when he sighed with relief, “Man am I glad to see you guys, I lost Jonath—”

Argyle's sentence falls short as a pair of black scaly feet hook into the meat of his shoulders and yank him upwards, into the dark sky.

It was a large leathery bird-like creature, great expanse of wings with jagged skin and a razor sharp beak, gaping wide to show rows and rows of three inch teeth.

Its black eyes swam in a sea of red, it stood on two muscled hind legs that had several blister-like sacs on them, oozing black liquid that reeked of decay. The body was boney, stretched tight with a scaly black leather skin riddled with bright red veins etched into it like tattoos.

You watched in terror as another bird creature joined the first, swooping to collect Argyle’s feet in its mouth. Fighting for dominance.

They had him at either end, swaying back in forth in jerky motions screeching loud and snapping their beaks in grit, struggling to stay airborne while fighting for their prey.

Flying in different directions, their talons sunk deeper into Argyle's body, the guttural scream from him could shatter the noise barrier, and you swallow dryly as bile creeps up your throat.

The four of you watch in horror as his torso disconnects in squelching threads of skin guts and bone. His body shreds in half with a wet snapping crunch, blood falling like rain onto the ground.

Nancy’s screams filled the van as Steve slammed the metal door shut, jamming a thumb into the lock. And you don’t realize your screaming until Eddie’s hand squeezes yours tighter, and the vans tires squeal into the night. Away from the carnage.

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#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie fan fiction

136 notes · View notes

fuck-customers · 1 year ago

Note

I'm pretty sure an old man tried to trick me into paying less.

He called the store shortly after we opened, asking if we had x colonge in stock. We did. I told that the large is $75, the medium is $65, and the small is out.

He comes in a few hours later (all I called about x earlier). So I took him to the section with x and reminded him of the prices. He picked out the large.

At the register, I told that with tax, his total would be $79.50.

He asked, "$71?"

I said, "No. 79 dollars and fifty cents."

We repeated this exchange four fucking times. As he was mishearing (?), he pulled out his wallet and cash.

To get this to end, I told him it would be easiest to hand me $80. He finally relented. I gave him back to two quarters as change.

"Where's the rest of my change?"

"There is no rest."

"You didn't give me anything!"

"I gave you 50 cents."

"You owe me $9!"

"I do not."

"Where's my receipt? I want to show you proof!"

"It's in your bag."

He pulls out the receipt and sees that his total was indeed $79.50 and that I did not owe him more.

He didn't yell at me, but did raise his voice to exclaim, "You tricked me," before leaving the store.

But sir! Surely it was thou that tried to trick me! For I hath no clue where you got seventy-one from nor how one manages to mishear me 5 fucking times.

Posted by admin Rodney.

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wild-karrde · 1 year ago

Text

Part 1: The Antagonist

Series Master List | Next Part

A/N: ALRIGHT. SO. I REWROTE THE FIRST PART OF THIS SERIES. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. As always, THANK YOU TO THE OUTSTANDING @teletraan-meets-jarvis FOR BETA READING THIS FOR ME!

Pairing: Gregor x f!Reader (nicknamed Bolts)

Rating: E 18+ MINORS BEGONE

Warnings: language, fingering, voyeurism, PiV sex, oral sex, impact play/spanking, Fives cameo

Word Count: 6.5k words

The bass of the music in 79s is damn near deafening as you step inside the bar, almost immediately spotting the magenta and grey paint of the 28th Combat Wing’s armor in their favored booth against the wall. What stands out more was the yellow hatch-marked commando armor sitting amongst them. Your teeth immediately find the inside of your cheek, gnawing away to ease your annoyance.

Fucking Gregor. Dammit.

You’ve been looking forward to this all week, but of course that fucking commando is here. Maker alive, he’s infuriating, but you aren’t about to let him ruin your night out. You have to cash out on all of the booze Chuckles owes you at some point, and he’s so rarely planetside, your opportunities are limited.

But why did it have to be the night that asshole is also around?

You’re not sure what exactly about Gregor gets under your skin. Maybe it’s his cocky smirk or his stupid hair or that ridiculous giggle that sounds like an inebriated fathier whinnying. Or maybe it’s the way he seems entirely unbothered by you. No matter what it is, Gregor’s got you figured and loves to dig his finger into that sore spot whenever he gets the chance. He’s already spotted you from across the room, raising an eyebrow as you start heading in his direction.

Not tonight, asshole.

You square your shoulders, swaying your hips a bit more than necessary. None of them have ever seen you out of your mechanic’s jumpsuit, and you’d picked your favorite (and only) dress for the occasion. It’s a simple, strappy black number, short, but not too short, shimmery, and easy enough to get into and out of should the need arise. After all, you deserve a little bit of attention. And maybe a good lay. If you can find one.

Gregor says nothing as he sips his beer, but his eyes never leave you, raking from your toes to your eyebrows as you nudge Chuckles and slide into the booth next to him.

“I’m sorry, I’m saving this seat for some greasy mechanic I owe a few drinks to,” Chuckles teases, slipping his arm over the back of the booth behind you.

“Oh, my apologies. Mind if I keep it warm until she gets here?” you joke back, playfully ruffling his mohawk, which is currently a deep purple color.

Crater rolls his eyes while Stones leans over, whispering that you look very nice, making you duck your head bashfully. Chuck flags down a waiter droid.

“What’ll it be, Bolts?” he asks, invoking the nickname he’d given you.”Just don’t break my non-existent bank account.”

“I’ll have a whiskey, please,” you request. Gregor raises an eyebrow again.

You feel annoyance tighten your chest. “What?” you ask sharply.

“Here we go,” mumbles Guin under his breath.

Gregor shrugs. “Just didn’t peg you for the whiskey type.”

“Oh, do enlighten me as to what type you thought I’d be, Captain.”

“Alright, alright, your seat’s not even warm yet,” Chuck mutters. He leans closer, speaking directly into your ear. “What is your damage with him?”

You sniff delicately, as if Chuckles has somehow misread the constant bickering between Gregor and you. “Nothin’. I just asked a question.”

Chuck rolls his eyes before sliding the whiskey in front of you. “Just drink this so you’ve got less of a stick up your ass.”

You glare at him, but accept the drink anyway, enjoying the slight burn in your throat and the warmth that settles into your belly.

It doesn’t take too many whiskeys before you feel yourself start to relax, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. You laugh at Chuckles’s terrible jokes, chat with Crater about the last bolo ball game, and even get Sticks to come out of his shell a bit, convincing him to regale you with the stories behind Chuckles’s most ridiculous injuries. The entire time, you notice Gregor’s stealing glances at you, and your confidence grows.

Let the bastard look.

You lean forward to take another sip of whatever drink Chuckles has ordered for you now. You let your cleavage rest on the table as your tongue wraps around the straw, pulling it between your lips. You glance up in time to see Gregor watching you over the rim of his glass. His eyes are on your breasts, but they quickly flick up to meet your gaze. You roll your eyes at his obvious leering, leaning back into the crook of Chuckles’s shoulder. The pilot seems somewhat surprised, but doesn’t move to pull away. Gregor says nothing, but something in his eyes seems to flare for a moment.

You’re imagining things.

As the evening progresses, Crater graciously excuses himself to head back to the barracks and catch up on some reports. As soon as their commanding officer disappears towards the bar to settle his tab, tongues loosen, and suddenly the conversation turns to romantic encounters. Unfortunately, the boys haven’t spent enough time planetside to rack up anything too salacious, so it isn’t long before you become the target of the conversation.

“C’mon, Bolts. What’s been your wildest night?”

“A lady never kisses and tells.”

“Who said anything about kissing?”

“And since when are you a lady?” You elbow Chuck for that comment, shooting him a glare with no real heat behind it.

“Oh, come on. There has to have been something that you’d consider memorable.”

You shrug. “Not lately.”

“No game or nothing worth writing home about?”

“You guys sure are nosey.”

“We’ve got to live vicariously through you, Bolts.”

You laugh, growing bolder as the liquor in your stomach warms you. “There was a guy a few weeks back. He did his best, and it was probably better sex than I’d had in a while, but that’s not saying much with the losing streak I’ve had going. Thinking of giving up and just going with the battery-powered lovers from here on out. At least then I get to finish.”

Stones groans in despair for your lackluster love life and Chuckles cackles loudly. “You sure do know how to pick ‘em, Bolts.”

You shrug. “It’s been a struggle.”

“Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.”

Gregor had been quiet for the last little while, but that comment from him draws your attention. And your ire.

“And what would you know about making a woman cum, Captain?” you sneer.

He grins cheekily. “Plenty.”

“I bet you couldn’t make a woman orgasm if your life depended on it,” you bite back.

Chuckles huffs in annoyance next to you. Gregor swirls the whiskey he’s switched to in the light, watching the legs of the liquid trail down the side of the glass.

“I’ll take that bet.”

It’s the first time he’s ever really openly antagonized you, and something about the way he’s looking at you sets your blood boiling and a very different sort of blaze licking up your spine. Your eyes lock onto one another, and for reasons you can’t explain, you feel heat pool between your legs. You adjust in the booth, and while the others are guffawing about something else Chuckles said to lighten the mood, Gregor notes the way your thighs rub together. He smirks, and you scowl back as your annoyance battles for control with the sudden tingle that ripples through your nerves. After another few minutes, you excuse yourself, unsure of where you’re heading.

Just need to get away from him for a minute.

Your feet carry you towards the back of the bar where it’s darker. You pass plenty of bodies pressed together, panting, sweating, and moaning in the dim lighting. Suddenly, you feel a hand in the small of your back, pressing you towards one unoccupied corner that’s far from any prying eyes. You whirl to find Gregor smirking down at you.

“I-I was looking for the ‘freshers,” you sputter.

“Now love, I don’t think that’s true at all,” he responds. “I think you were looking for trouble.”

You regain your bearings, scoffing at him as he backs you into the corner. You feel the heat grow between your legs, and you hate how your panties are sticking to you as he pins you against the wall, one arm braced next to your head as he leans closer, smirking. You can smell his sweat and his drink and his skin, and a sudden shiver rips through you. You jut your chin out defiantly.

“What do you want, Gregor?” you snap.

“Same thing as you.”

“And what’s that?”

He chuckles before leaning even closer to you, his voice rasping in your ear. “To make you cum.”

You snort indignantly, but your legs are trembling underneath you.

“The question is,” he continues. “How best to make that happen? Are you one of those lovers that wants to be taken roughly, with me buried deep in that sopping cunt of yours while I hold a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet? Or do you need me to build you up more slowly, take my time until you fall apart?” His fingers trail up your thigh, slipping under the fabric of your dress before digging into your skin slightly. He presses forward, slotting a knee between your legs, and your breathing quickens. His eyes are watching you as his fingers find the hem of your panties on your hip, and he twists the string of delicate lace around his knuckle.

“Now this feels like something you were hoping someone would take off of you tonight. That the case, love?”

You swallow hard.

“You want me to take these off of you?”

“No.”

He pulls his hand away immediately, clearly thinking he’s misread things, but you lock your fingers around his wrist. His eyes find yours in the darkness, the question in them apparent.

“I want you to make me cum with them on.”

His trademark smirk reappears, his fingers slipping back under your dress, drifting between your legs to press your clit through the thin fabric. He’s more sure of himself now, more certain you want this, and as much as you hate it, you absolutely fucking do.

“All worked up just from thinking about me? You’re practically soaked,” he murmurs.

“You talk a lot,” you mutter.

He chuckles against your ear. “I think you like when I talk.” His fingers find the hem of your panties between your legs, and you feel him push the lacy fabric aside, tracing through your dripping folds. “I think you like hearing all the ways that I think about fucking you, and trust me, I’ve thought about it a lot.” His first finger finds its way inside you, and you gasp, hitching one leg over his hip as your hands fly to his shoulders to find purchase. Gregor’s watching you as your lips part, your head thunking back against the wall as he slips a second finger inside you.

“That’s it, love. Let go for me. Let me take care of you.”

“I really don’t like you,” you try to snarl, but it comes out more of a whine.

He chuckles. “I think you want to dislike me, but that’s becoming more difficult.”

Your reply dies on your tongue, replaced by a gasp. His fingers are so thick and deliciously calloused. When they finally find that spongy place inside you, you dig your teeth into your lower lip to stifle a moan. He crowds you further against the wall, bearing down on that place inside you. “None of that now. Let me hear you.”

“Fuck you.”

“I might let you if you’re nicer,” he teases.

You dig your nails into the back of his neck, and he gasps lightly before he nudges the strap of your dress aside with his nose and bites down on the flesh of your shoulder. You groan out his name.

“Gregor.”

“That’s right. You like this, don’t you? Being back here where anyone could see you falling apart on my fingers.”

You suddenly become aware of just how exposed you are, and in spite of yourself, it thrills you. Glancing back over at the table, you see the boys are all still seated and chattering away, completely oblivious as to what’s going on. You’re mostly glad they’re not paying attention.

Mostly.

Gregor notes where your gaze has drifted. “You want them to watch, hm? I could call the others over. Have them see you finally get what you deserve.” You whimper, clenching around his fingers as he slips a third one in. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? You’re filthy, love. Maybe another time. Right now, I want you all to myself.”

You’re practically riding his palm right now, the man you’ve hated for months, but Maker above, you’re not about to stop. There’s something so deliciously obscene about how you never could have predicted this moment, and yet, here you were, fueled by need and anger and something else you can’t quite place. The music is faint enough back in this corner that you can hear the obscene wet noises coming from between your legs. You’re both sweating, foreheads pressed together, panting in each other’s faces.

“Gregor, I’m close.” It might be the first time you’ve said his name without a snarl tacked onto the last syllable.

“I know you are, love. Be good for me and soak my hand, yeah?”

You glare at him with heated eyes, mustering your last bit of defiance. “Make me.”

He sucks at the place just below your ear. “With pleasure.” With that, he presses against your clit with his thumb, circling slowly with just the perfect amount of pressure. Your mind goes fuzzy, teetering on the brink as he buries his face in your neck, panting against your sweaty skin. Your eyes rove the bar around you once more as Gregor’s thumb presses more firmly against the bundle of nerves between your legs. No one near you is paying any attention to you, mostly focused on their own partners, but a pair of piercing brown eyes draw your attention, and you lock gazes with Crater from across the bar.

He must have gotten sidetracked or decided to have one more drink away from his men as he closed out his tab, but either way, there he is, seemingly watching you ride Gregor’s fingers. His expression doesn’t change as your eyes find his. He brings his glass to his lips, his gaze unwavering as he surveys you. You’re not even absolutely certain he’s looking at you in this dimly lit mass of bodies, but you think he is, and that’s enough to send you flying towards the edge of your orgasm. You cum hard, your vision whiting out as you topple over the precipice. Gregor presses his mouth to yours, swallowing your scream, and you bite down on his bottom lip as you ride out your high. When the aftershocks have finally subsided, you slump against the wall as Gregor pulls his hand from between your legs. He holds you up, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pants against your skin.

Glancing back at the bar, you note Crater’s gone. If he was even actually there in the first place.

“I… still don’t like you,” you mutter between gulps of air.

He chuckles. “Keep telling yourself that, love.”

When your breathing finally steadies and your legs become usable again, he stands back, watching you as you straighten your clothes. You try to recompose yourself, smoothing your hair, and he grins. You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Looks like I won that bet.” He kisses you on the cheek, which infuriatingly makes your face flush with heat. You glare at him as he turns to leave, but you grab his arm again. In spite of months of derision and grumbled comments, you want more.

And you want it now.

His expression is puzzled, and you relish in it as you step closer to grip his rock-hard length on the outside of his pants, making him gasp. You whisper directly into his ear, ensuring only he’ll hear.

“Wait five minutes and then follow me outside. I’ll have a cab waiting.”

“What for?”

You kiss him, running your tongue over the inside of his lip before patting his cheek, enjoying the way he groans and the surprised look on his face.

“Double or nothing. But this time you can't use your hands.”

With that, you turn on your heel, heading back towards the table. Your fingers wander nervously over the fabric of your dress, ensuring there’s no wrinkle or strap out of place that would give away what happened in that dark corner. You pull your hair over one shoulder, hoping it covers the stinging mark where Gregor’s teeth found purchase against your skin. Chuckles glances up as you get closer, his eyes seemingly taking in everything you’d hoped to hide, but his expression doesn’t change. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you try to meet his gaze with a level stare of your own.

“Everything alright, Bolts?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking I’ll head out. Got a long one tomorrow.”

“Want me to walk you home?”

“No. I mean, I’m good. But thank you. Don’t want to be a bother.”

Chuck nods.

“We all good here then? Don’t need me to settle up anything?” you ask.

Chuckles grins. “All good, but we’re even now, right?”

You smirk. “You wish, bud. You owe me at least two more nights like this before I’d call us even.”

The pilot rolls his eyes, but you wink before making your way back through the crowd and out the front door of the bar.

The night air is chilly, or at least it makes you shiver as the breeze hits your sweaty skin. You wrap your arms around yourself, eyeing the area where taxis usually could be flagged down. There’s a large crowd gathered, and apparently, it’s a slow night with the cabs. You shift your weight on your feet nervously, weighing your options. You’d rather not stand in a crowd with Gregor. Your cunt throbs between your legs, still slick from the orgasm the commando wrenched from you, and still craving more. There’s a moment of sharp clarity where you realize what just occurred, what you’ve propositioned. You pause to consider it.

Yes, you’ve always disliked Gregor for whatever imagined slights you’ve clung to, but you’ve just allowed him to pleasure you better than any lovers in recent memory, perhaps ever. And he followed through on his promise, and has seemingly agreed to do it again, wrenching another orgasm from you. If he was actually a sleamo, you’d have never let him touch you, and now, your mind really tries to pinpoint what it is about him that’s always pissed you off. He’s good looking, and he knows it, and he’s always been able to read you, seemingly finding the most annoying places to press into. Well, until he found a very different sort of place to press against tonight, one that made your legs tremble and your nerves flare with electricity. You still can’t quite put your finger on what it is about him that makes you angry, but you’re definitely certain about the reasons you want him to fuck you now.

It was unexpected, impulsive, almost taboo, and that made it more thrilling. And him being so eager to pull another orgasm from you? Well, that’s new. Even with your shared history, you’ve never met a man so focused on you, and deep down, you like the attention. Even if it is Gregor.

You turn back towards the club, and see the lanky commando just exiting. As much as you’d love to take him back to your apartment and fuck in a real bed, something about it seems too intimate, even with your revelations. In your mind, it’s almost some sort of concession, admitting that you’ve enjoyed him enough to be vulnerable, to allow him into your space. And that’s not something you’re ready for, at least not yet. You just want a release. Well, more than the one he’s already given you, and you’re not feeling patient enough to wait for a cab. You lock eyes with him, jerking your head towards one of the alleys.

He seems to take your cue, following behind you as you stride in between the two buildings, picking your way around a few couples that seemed to have the same idea. You’re pretty sure one of them is that ARC with the tattoo on his temple from the 501st, but it’s hard to tell with the way he’s bent over the woman he’s fucking against the wall. As you walk past, she moans out “Fives,” and confirms your suspicions. A sharp thrill of anticipation snakes through you.

Gregor might fuck you like that in a minute.

You think he might grab your hand to lead you through the alley, but he allows you to lead, hovering just half a step behind you without touching you. And that almost seems to make the space between you fizzle with anticipation. As soon as you get far enough past the other pairs to give yourselves a semblance of privacy, you finally feel warm hands snake around your waist. Gregor spins you, pinning you against the wall. You hiss as the cool bricks scrape against your bare shoulder blades, but it’s more from surprise than anything else.

“What do you want, love?” Gregor asks, hands already wandering your body. The lighting out here is only a little better than inside 79s, but the shadows work in his favor, sharpening his features and somehow making his eyes more piercing.

Karking hells, he’s hot.

“I want you to fuck me hard against this wall until I cum as many times as I need to,” you gasp, arching into his touch as he squeezes your breast over your dress.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a triumphant smirk, one that would normally make you snarl at him, but he’s already got you unraveling. “Yeah? I think I can do that. Just gotta help me get ready.” He guides your hand between his legs, and you feel his cock through his pants again. He’s softened a little in the last few minutes since you’d separated, and while you could probably get him hard again just by stroking him, you want to turn the tables and get him back on his heels a bit.

You want to wipe that smirk off of his stupidly handsome face. You want him to whimper for you.

Pushing him away from you, you squat down, carefully balancing on your toes, and start working to free his cock from his pants. Luckily, he’d opted to not wear any armor above his knees tonight, and it only takes a moment to fish out your prize. He’s long, and so thick and warm in your grasp. You feel your mouth watering already at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

“Oh, Maker, Bolts. Is that what you want?” he asks, and you feel his cock twitch against your palm.

You say nothing, glaring up at him before you slip him past your lips. You groan as you taste him, tracing his shaft and flicking at the head of his cock with your tongue. Gregor’s mouth falls open slightly, and he gives you exactly what you’d hoped for, a whine high in his throat. You take him deeper, relishing in the way he stretches your jaw, even as his head brushes the back of your throat. With watering eyes, you drag your tongue along the bottom of him, pulling back enough to wrap your fingers around his length, twisting as you take him again. Gregor hisses out a curse between clenched teeth, and you hum, smirking around your mouthful. The commando stares down at you, clinging to what’s left of his composure.

“Now love, I thought the rule was no hands?” he scolds breathlessly, reaching down to grab both of your wrists. He pins them against the wall with one of his massive hands, stepping closer and thrusting gently into your mouth. Your head rests against the wall, and all you can do is open your jaw wider to accommodate him as he presses even closer. He keeps your hands pinned against the wall, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Squeeze if it’s too much, but I’m not going to go easy. Not with the way you’ve run that mouth at me.” He’s teasing, and you raise an eyebrow, grazing him with your teeth. He reaches down, gripping your jaw firmly.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” he grits out darkly, and you shiver at how the hoarse, lighthearted rasp of his voice has turned to a deep gravel that promises to ruin you. Without further preamble, Gregor snaps his hips into you until you choke. He watches you for a moment, and when you don’t squeeze his hand, he starts fucking your mouth without abandon. You focus on breathing through your nose as he drives his cock into your throat, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, trying to find the place that’ll make him come undone. Tears stream from your eyes, surely ruining your makeup, and rivulets of saliva slide over your lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. Gregor’s too far gone to note your efforts with your tongue, swearing under his breath as he uses you.

And as much as you dislike him, you love this.

Even if you’ll never admit it.

You can feel your pulse between your legs, and your pussy is begging for some sort of stimulation. You flex your wrists experimentally to see if you’ll be allowed one hand to touch yourself with, but Gregor tightens his grip.

“That greedy little cunt is going to have to wait,” he rasps, glancing down at your pleading eyes with the smuggest expression imaginable. “I’m going to get my credits worth out of your mouth first.” With that, he pushes to the back of your throat, burying your nose in the dark curls at his base, and he holds you there. Your vision blurs with tears, and he’s cut off your air, but fuck you love it.

You feel his thumb trace your hand, reminding you that you can squeeze anytime to have him release you, but tapping out at this point would mean letting him win, and you’re not about to do that.

After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as a thick string of spit connects the two of you. You gasp and choke as you try to catch your breath, but Gregor is already pulling you to your feet, spinning you to face the wall and pushing your dress up and your panties to the side. Your knees protest as pins and needles snake down your calves where the blood flow was cut off in your squatting position, but you don’t have time to complain as Gregor kicks your feet apart, lining himself up with your entrance.

“You ready to cum on my cock, love?”

Your voice feels rough as you reply. “We’ll see if you can make me.”

Gregor pulls the strap of your dress off your shoulder, freeing your breast, which he immediately grabs, pinching your nipple. In spite of yourself, your head falls back against his shoulder as you try to press the tender flesh into his palm. He squeezes roughly as he takes your earlobe in his teeth, chuckling.

“Oh, I’ll make sure you can still feel me all day tomorrow. And that you’ll be back for more.”

The snarled retort is on the tip of your tongue when he sheathes himself fully in you in one stroke, and it’s strangled by the high-pitched gasp that rips out of you. Gregor crowds you against the wall, practically lifting you up on your toes with every thrust. You’re going to be sore tomorrow, you’re certain of that with how he’s stretching you out, carving out his place inside of you with every snap of his hips. Your breasts press against the cool, rough brick, and normally, you’d complain that it was uncomfortable, but Gregor’s cock hits a place inside you that makes you cry out loudly, and the pleasure overshadows the pain.

“Shhh, love,” Gregor coos in your ear. “Gonna attract an audience. Unless that’s what you want?”

“Thought y-you liked hearing me,” you gasp.

“Inside was louder. Out here, everyone can hear you mewling.”

You place your palms against the wall, digging your teeth into your lip to try and keep your moans locked inside you. Gregor shifts his grip on your hips, reaching up to splay his massive palm against your breast, his other hand trailing between your legs. You regain enough brainpower to swat it away.

“No hands,” you snarl.

He huffs a laugh, redoubling his efforts. “Fine then. We’ll be here longer, so you’ll really have to stay quiet.” He purposefully bottoms out, and you moan before you can stop yourself. “You’re so loud, Bolts,” he teases, bearing down on the place inside of you that’s making your legs tremble beneath you. “I suppose I can help with that.”

His hand slides over your mouth, and you think he’s just going to muffle your screams, but instead, he slides three fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You whine, and he chuckles, driving into you. You want to make a comment about how loud his hips are slapping against your ass, how the wet sounds of your cunt are echoing down the alley, how Gregor’s panting and grunting in your ear, and you certainly would if the pads of his fingers weren’t pressing against your tongue. You realize those are the same fingers that touched you earlier, that found the place his cock has now discovered, and you can still taste traces of your orgasm on his callouses. He hooks the corner of your lip, pulling the corner of your mouth down enough to allow a trail of saliva to slither over his knuckles.

“Sloppy little thing,” he mutters, and you moan. The brick scratches against your chest and palms as he pushes you harder against the wall, using it to pin you in place as he takes you roughly. You feel eyes on you, and turning your head as much as you can manage, you find the gaze of the woman that Fives is fucking. The ARC trooper is on his knees now, his face hidden under her skirt, one of her legs draped over his pauldron. The woman’s braced against the wall, her sharp purple eyes watching you with interest as her fingers snake through Fives’s curls. It’s hard for you to tell in the dark, but you’re almost certain Fives is stroking himself as he lavishes her cunt with attention, his arm moving in a repetitive motion as he groans quietly. The woman winks at you, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips before Fives pulls a moan from her.

“Knew you’d like an audience,” Gregor rasps. “Now, let’s give them a show.” His hand leaves your breast, disappearing for a moment before he brings it down in a stinging slap across your ass. Your eyes roll back into your head as the pain courses through your veins, blossoming to pleasure under Gregor’s warm palm. He lands another blow to your other cheek, and this time, you can’t help but scream around his digits. Your cunt spasms around his cock, and you know you’re close, so close.

“Your pussy’s going to choke me, love,” Gregor moans. “Better finish you off before you milk me dry.”

“T-tfhh eeee,” you mumble around his fingers.

You know he’s grinning behind you.

“What was that?”

You bite his finger gently, and he yanks his hand loose, spanking you again.

“Touch m-me,” you demand once you regain your breath.

“Now, you said no hands was the rule. And I intend to comply.”

“I know what the fuck I said,” you snap.

He readjusts, and somehow, he hits the perfect place. Your eyes cross and you think your legs might give out. You moan, your forehead resting against the brick as you try to not move, hoping he’ll strike the same place again.

“Ask nicely,” Gregor whispers mockingly.

Your resolve and animosity crumbles to ash as he strokes the same place inside you again.

“Please,” you beg. “I’m so close. Please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Oh, I love hearing you beg like that,” Gregor groans. You expect him to tease you more, dangling you over the edge as you whine and thrash helplessly, but he relents, slipping his hand between your legs and easily finding your clit, which he presses against with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Say ‘thank you, Gregor,’ and I’ll let you cum.”

Fuck, you despise this man. He’s embedded himself under your skin for no discernible reason, and yet, you’ve let him touch you and pleasure you and fuck you, and there’s no way you’re going to be able to scrub this night from your mind. You’re going to want this again, no matter how much you push against it, and knowing that Gregor’s a willing participant, even if you’re ready to scream every curse you can think of at him right now, well, that makes it even easier to allow it to happen again.

If he’ll just let you finish.

He slows the roll of his hips, and you groan in frustration. Your desperation is clouding your mind at this point, and as you feel the finish line of your orgasm slipping away, you become frantic. He’s dangled you long enough, and after months and months of not having anything but your toys to sate you, you’ll allow yourself this small humiliation in order to get what you want.

“Please. Please, let me cum. I’ll say anything you want.”

He snickers, snapping his hips again, and you’re immediately back on the edge, tingling with anticipation as your entire body thrums with pleasure. You hate how easily he’s got you figured, how quickly he shoves you back to the precipice, and how smug he’s going to be about it.

You’ll be mad later. Right now, you can’t be bothered to care.

He leans closer, and you know what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you for fucking me like this, Gregor.”

His fingers press harder against your clit just as the tip of his cock slams into the spot no one else has ever come close to reaching. You claw at the wall in front of you as your vision whites out once more, and you feel him pull out of you, expending ropes of his seed across the curves of your ass.

He doesn’t let you fall, his hands flying to your waist and his weight pinning you in place against the wall as your knees threaten to crumble underneath you. His hold is much gentler than it was a moment ago, and he rests his chin on your shoulder as he recovers.

“That was fun,” he pants, and you can practically hear his mouth curling into a grin, but somehow, it’s not as smug as you thought it’d be. “We should do it again some time.”

“Not if you’re going to make a mess of me before sending me home,” you mutter, glancing around for something to wipe the quickly-cooling spend off of you.

“Allow me.”

You feel fabric wipe across your ass, and turning, you see Gregor tucking the soiled edge of his shirt back into his pants along with his cock. He shrugs when you raise an eyebrow.

“I imagine that wouldn’t be very comfortable in the cab home.”

“You imagine correctly.”

You stand there staring at one another for a moment awkwardly in the now-empty alley, Fives and his companion having finished their encounter and disappeared. This entire thing was unexpected to say the least, and neither of you know what comes next. You break into nervous laughter, straightening your panties and dress.

“I like your smile. Don’t get to see it very often.”

In spite of yourself, heat flushes across your face. You reach up to fix your hair, and a warm hand cups your cheek. You lock eyes with Gregor, and he’s staring at you so gently you almost forget how much you dislike him.

Almost.

“Don’t you even think of kissing me.”

“We already kissed.”

He has a point, but of course you won’t give any more ground. “I’d hardly call that a kiss.”

He huffs a laugh. “Fair enough.” He reaches out, brushing some of your hair back into place. It’s surprising, and fuck, your treacherous heart clenches just a bit at the tenderness of the gesture. It’s not because you’ve suddenly developed feelings for him, but you can’t remember the last time someone touched you like that, so gentle and warm.

It hasn’t been that long. And you’re not that desperate for affection. Just for a good fuck.

And this was a good fuck.

You survey him for another moment as he rubs the back of his neck. “I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about,” he offers.

“Do I look worried?”

“You look uneasy.” He smirks. “Although maybe it’s because the man you loathe made you cum. Twice.”

You cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes. Gregor steps closer, straightening the strap on your dress. “I meant what I said. I’d do it again. If you’d like.”

His brown eyes lock onto yours, and you consider it. Your shoulders do feel like they’ve dropped away from your ears, some of the tension you’ve been carrying for as long as you can remember seemingly vanished. And you feel like your fuse isn’t as short. Even the steady thrum of annoyance that you’ve felt tearing through you since the moment you laid eyes on Gregor seems to have abated slightly.

No one would suspect it since we hate each other. No expectations. Just sex. Really good sex.

I could use really good sex.

“I suppose I could tolerate you doing that when you’re planetside,” you concede. “But no one else finds out. And this is just sex.”

“Just sex,” he agrees, extending his hand to seal the deal. “Shake on it?”

“You’re an idiot,” you grumble, stepping past him, leaving his hand hanging in the air. He catches your waist from behind, pulling you back against him.

“Don’t forget this idiot that knows how your pussy feels wrapped around his cock. Now, are you going to give me your comm?”

“Fuck off. You know where to find me when you get back,” you mutter, ignoring the way your thighs are clenching together again at his words.

Get it the fuck together.

“True. Since you never leave that garage,” he snickers. Before you can protest, he pecks a kiss to your temple and gently pushes you forward by your ass, squeezing the curve of it a little. You stumble a bit, shooting him a glare over your shoulder.

“Get home safe, Bolts,” he says quietly. In spite of everything, he’s being sincere. And that’s nice.

You pause. “Yeah. You too.”

His smirk fades and his gaze softens at your words, but he quickly slips his default expression back into place. Raising an eyebrow, he gives you a two-fingered salute, and you roll your eyes again before walking off to find a cab.

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @skellymom @runforrestr @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @fives-lover @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#karrde writes #the antagonist #the blitz series #captain gregor #clone commando gregor #gregor x reader #gregor x you #nsft #lemon #lemony lemon #enemies to lovers #but only one of them thinks so #OC Chuckles #OC Crater #28th Combat Wing #clone OC

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samhatch · 2 months ago

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Things I would put in my ACOTAR fixit fic:

Stone Heart

ABOUT: When I first read ACOTAR, I thought this was unique to Tamlin. I don't recall it being said in the first book that it was related to Amarantha's curse, so I thought this was just something about Tamlin's past that we would learn later.

WHAT I WOULD CHANGE: I'd really like to take this in a Howl's Moving Castle or Odin direction, that Tamlin had to sacrifice his heart in order to gain a powerful ability. I would make that his shapeshifting ability. Making this ability something he gained on his own, rather than something he inherited, would be so much more interesting! It would also mean that his true "high lord beast form" is something we still haven't seen, and is an ultimate form even Tamlin is afraid of using. This would also mean that when Feyre gains abilities from all the high lords, she does not gain the ability to shapeshift, which could solve some plot issues down the road. Also, also: this would mean that his heart is stone forever, and cannot be healed by breaking the curse. He made a faerie deal, and those can be unforgiving.

2. Feyre's Mother

ABOUT This line from the book has always stood out to me: “Didn’t … ,” Tamlin interrupted, his deep voice surprisingly gentle, “didn’t your mother tell you anything about us?” I prodded the table with my forefinger, digging my short nails into the wood. “My mother didn’t have the time to tell me stories.” I could reveal that part of my past, at least. Lucien, for once, didn’t laugh. After a rather stilted pause, Tamlin asked, “How did she die?” When I lifted my brows, he added a bit more softly, “I didn’t see signs of an older woman in your house.” (Page 79-80.) WHAT I WOULD CHANGE I want to make Feyre's mother fae. Specifically a Selkie, that Papa Archeron would have kidnapped on one of his sea voyages when he was young. He hid her cape that allowed her to transform back into a seal, and she was forced to marry him and have his children. Because she was in human form when she had her daughters, they would all be 100% human, and not fae, despite having a fae mother. This also explains why Feyre's mother was so bitter and disconnected from her family. She only ever wanted to go back to the ocean. But eventually she died of heartbreak and homesickness. This is also why Feyre is so hung up on her promise to her mother, even though she wasn't treated very well: it was a fae contract and unbreakable, without Feyre ever realizing it. I think it's also possible that one of her mother's relatives (or maybe Tamlin, since she would have been one of his subjects) would have cursed Papa Archeron for not returning her to the ocean, and that's why all of his fortunes changed so drastically and suddenly. It wasn't until Tamlin lifted that curse that her father was able to make money again. (I also like the idea that her father is genuinely a savvy businessman who was cursed to make bad deals, and all the riches he earns after the curse is lifted were earned by him and not just cash that Tamlin magically threw at him.)

3. Illiteracy

ABOUT Feyre being illiterate is important to her character as a human, so I wouldn't change that, but I would change how she gains literacy in the second book. WHAT I WOULD CHANGE This might be cheating, but I would just have her gain literacy after the high lords give a piece of themselves to resurrect her. Give her pieces of their knowledge about each court as well, and it helps bridge the uncomfortable age gaps, fast tracks her literacy, and gives her important strategic knowledge of the whole of Prythian. This way, her becoming a leader feels more legitimate, and that it's a position she could actually command with genuine competence. Is it cheating? maybe. Would it change her character completely? probably. But no more so than her character already changed form book 1 to book 2 I think.

4, The Trials

ABOUT I know this was some folks' favorite part of the book, but for me it was the opposite lol! The first half felt whimsical and magical, and the second half felt rushed, anticlimactic, and disjointed. To this day, I don't understand why Amarantha made a deal with Feyre, when she'd already won! There was no benefit to this deal for Amarantha, she could have captured and tortured Feyre to her heart's content. It's lazy writing, honestly. WHAT I WOULD CHANGE Amarantha needs something from Feyre that she can't get on her own. I don't know what that is yet, but I'll figure it out (maybe it's her mother's selkie coat for some reason, or maybe there's magic protecting Feyre that prevents Amarantha from killing her outright, so she puts her in a no-win-scenario aka: the trials.) I would also change the trials. I hate the worm. It felt so lazy to me, like a Dune worm? Really? If there is actual faerie-lore to back this up, I'll accept it, but it just felt like SJM was throwing in the kitchen sink of sci-fi cliche's. I would nix the worm completely, and redo the trials. The only trial I liked was the one where she had to read, because it felt like there was actual build up to that in the books, and the cost of losing being her friend's life rather than her own felt like the stakes were really high. Too bad she only won by cheating. :/ I would craft the trials in a way that force Feyre to think outside the box, and really understand the fae's love for wordplay and cleverness. Here's how I would construct the trials: 1. A Hunting Trial - where Feyre has to hunt a mythical beast. She thinks it's going to be a terrifying monster, but isn't prepared for it to be a pucca that looks like her mother. Trauma ensues! :D 2. The Riddles Trial - I wouldn't change anything about this! It forces Feyre to come to terms with her stubbornness and unwillingness to accept Tamlin's help when he first offered to teach her to read. 3. Embracing Tamlin - keeping the inspiration from the Ballad of Tam Lin, Feyre needs to hold onto Tamlin while Rhys reaches into his mind and forces Tamlin to take all kinds of terrifying shapes that hurt Feyre. Feyre never lets go, and passes the trial despite all the harm it causes her. Feyre passes the trials, but at the cost of her life, and Tamlin has to hold her dead body, knowing that his shapeshifting killed her. :'(

I'll reblog this and add to it as I get more ideas! Let me know what you think! I'll write out an actual fic at some point, but I feel like I need to finish reading the first three books to do it justice.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fixit

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ratsoh-writes · 1 year ago

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Ages updated!!!!

I’m gonna do my best to include all important characters, including some “side characters” that appear often enough! So let’s begin!

Undertale: Sans: 65, papyrus: 49, Undyne: 47, alphys: 54,Toriel: 934, Asgore: 933, Grillby: 522, Mettaton: 22

Underswap: Star: 60, honey: 44, Twister: 44, Winter: 1013, Napstablook: 23

Underfell: Red: 66, edge: 43, storm: 44, King: 998, felltron: 21

Swapfell Mal: 60, cash: 51

Horrortale Oak: 75, willow: 59, Miss: 944

Horrorswap Lilac: 70, Basil: 54

Horrorfell Rust: 76, Noir: 53

Underlust Charm: 66, sugar: 52, Amor: 367, winnie: 10

Lustswap Sparks: 59, Salt: 50

Lustfell Lush: 63, Pepper: 51, Jezebel: 212, Marcelo goldenfoot: 455

Lustswapfell Sir: 68, weasel: 52, snow: 61

Lustred Flambe: 55, Pesto: 54

Lustgold Butler: 68, gold: 49

Outertale Pluto: 67, Jupiter: 49, titan: 598

Outerfell Orion: 60, atlas: 52

Outerswap Helios: 44, Artemis 36

Fellswap Lord: 60, mutt: 53

Fellswap gold Wine: 64, coffee: 50, Empress: 1033

Farmtale Peaches: 51, rancher: 46, Rosemary: 550, Yosemite: 501

Farmswap Cider: 50, Barley: 42, Carmen: 85, whisky: 520

Farmfell Ram: 49, pitch: 40, russet: 478, pooch: 489

Horrorfarm Moose: 64, maple: 53

Mafias Butch: 60, snipe: 58, ace: 53, boss: 50, slim: 48, bruiser: 45, tempest: 64, Don: 645, Madame: 647, Mr corgi (aka Charles): 67

Birdtale Quill: 59, crow: 51

Birdswap Mango: 62, papaya: 36, canary: 278

Birdfell Roost: 53, harpy: 42, Lewis: 90

Draketale Alden: 68, Ollivander: 60

Drakefell Barin: 71, Arwin: 59

Drakeswap Hilda: 66, saga: 63

Seatale Fisher: 60, Jasper 25

Seaswap Finn: 59, sails: 27

Seafell Hook: 58, captain: 30

Gastertale G: 80, green: 79

Dancetale Pop: 52, rhythm: 45, salsa: 678

Theatretale Tempo: 50, vibrato: 29

Fallouttale Lens: 69, cricket, 49, piranha: 65

Templetale Zen: 67, shield: 35

Nomadtale Gears: 49, compass: 42, copper: 645, lilo: 21, weave: 126, wisteria: 157, linden: 158

Here’s a quick rundown of a monsters lifespan:

A common monster has a life expectancy of 700 years give or take. The oldest monster in record (that wasn’t a royal) was a Drake monster who lived 732 years.

They are considered infants/babies up until the age of two. Toddlerhood is from 2-6

Children are from the ages of 7-13. Most monsters start public school at ages 7-8

Teenagers are from 14-19. Monsters mature at a slower rate than humans, and so while the body may look grown in the later teen years, they have yet to develop sexual maturity until around 20.

Once 20 they are considered adults, but some subspecies can continue growing up till 30

After puberty in the early 19-22 range, a monster is considered a young adult from 25-190. You can compare those ages to a human in their early to mid 20s physically

Middle Ages range from 200s- 400s roughly

500s are considered older and retirement age, 600s are elderly. Anything past 680 is fragile

The lifespan goes down with halfbreed monsters ( “full” monster parent and “full” human parent) where they live around 600-650 years

The lifespan takes a bigger drop for mages who have an expectancy of 250 years. Witches (humans who have trained to use magic) are known to live up to their 130s if they aren’t soulbonded to a monster partner.

Monsters and half breeds born with the disease called dimming rarely live past their 400s

An exception to the monster lifespan are the “royals”. They take a ritual after being voted into office that binds them to their country, making it so that any decisions they make for the country has to be for its and the peoples benefit (as far as they believe), making them a servant to ebott for the rest of their lives, but extending their life and health in return. The ritual can be broken for the royals who wish to retire and die in peace. The oldest recorded ruler was rumored to be around three thousand

And now the crash!!

For those who don’t know what that is, it’s when all the AUs merged (and my excuse for why all these guys are in the same place lol).

The crash started 17 years ago, and ended within 9 months. Since then no other mystery groups of monsters have been discovered.

Here’s a brief timeline of ebott from crash until now

First day: the land mass that holds ebott appears

Day 2: undertale, underswap, gastertale,, dancetale, theatretale, templetale, all the “farm” AUs, “lust” AUs and the “outer” AUs

Month one: the bird AUs fall from the sky, the nomads stumble out of the forest and the sea AUs mysteriously arrive on ship to shore

Month two, after two months, most of the fell aus (underfell, swapfell, fellswap gold) appear

Month three, the factory (mafias) monsters appear along with the “ghost city” now inhabited and known as ebott city, the capitol. A few weeks later, the fallout monsters appear and ebotts first official hospitals are created

Month four, the royals are finally brought together after threats of inner fighting, and Asgore is voted in as the king

Things settle for four more months, and the new land is explored, vary basic laws are out into place, and things start getting divided into districts.

Month five: Ebott makes contact with several other countries and is introduced to the worlds currency system. Ebotts gold, silver, copper coins is recognized as a currency by the rest of the world

Month seven, the first and only orphanage is founded for any unclaimed children.

On month nine of the crash, the monsters finally access the underground, and to their horror, they find three separate chambers housing the starving horror AUs who had no idea everything that was going on above.

Month ten, land is sold and divided, and ebott begins creating large scale farms

May 20, 2007, ebott celebrates their first official year as a country. The capitol city is named new ebott (cause Asgore sucks at naming things and frankly the rest of the royals aren’t much better)

May 30th, the royal guard is finally re-organized

December 2007, ebotts first countrywide gyftmas celebration, also an official design for the flag and coins are voted on and implemented

February 2008, the first official jail is built and used in ebott lol

July 2008, ebott is finally let into the rest of the worlds internet, and electricity reaches more areas besides just ebott city

August 2008, ebotts children and teens discover tik tok, and it is unanimously decided by every one that a standard public school has to be created

Late august 2008, the first public school is finished in city center

September 2008, the number of school sites number around 300, and counting

January 2009, ebott state college is built and open

April 2009, the ebott scouts is formed, and children hoping to join the guard in the future are able to sign up.

March 2010, ebott is opened by presiding countries for international students and charity programs

November 2010, the following of lady magic opens the temple to the public, and takes over the maintenance of what used to be known as the horrors underground. A grotto is transformed into a place of remembrance for those left behind before the crash

May 2011, the core from the stable underground is moved to the surface and duplicated into several other power factories. All of inhabited ebott is at least within an hour of power

May 2012, the stable underground is open to the public as a tourist attraction. Ebotts is opened by presiding countries to tourism

February 2013, because of public pressure from mainly farm, bird, lusts and the temple monsters, human-monster marriages are now recognized under the state as valid

July 2013 A farm monster discovers how to successfully cultivate magic crops from the underground, aboveground. He shares the secret for free, and other farm monsters take initiative to start sharing their own crop secrets. He is awarded the title of prince.

January 2014 Due to complaints about side effects from human foods, money is poured into research about safer ways to process and preserve foods in ebott.

April 2014, mellowmart becomes the largest company in ebott, finally beating out Walmart in scale.

December 2016, ebott petitions to be recognized as a free independent country to the United Nations. Ebott is turned down

December 2017, ebott petitions again to be recognized as an independent nation

February 2017 Immigration into ebott is closed, and monsters begin boycotting imported human goods. The ebott navy is built.

July 2017, ebott is declared an independent nation

March 2018, the royals declare ebott self sufficient in feeding the country when the amount of food related exports finally exceeds the imports for the first time

July 2018, ebott celebrates its first freedom festival

October 2018, the first college dedicated to the arts is opened in the captitol

July 2019, magical spars are declared the national sport after a grueling battle between spar fans and pickleball fans

November 2019, the first echo festival is celebrated in Goldenvalley

February 2020, humans not born in ebott are finally allowed to apply for citizenship, and the process for that is created.

April 2020 the goldenflower festival is organized for the first time

September 2020, several big brands like coco cola, Hersheys and nestle are banned in ebott when complaints of health issues becomes too much

March 2021, Wendy’s becomes the first company to create a monster-safe fast food outside of ebott, and after months of testing, is given permission to sell. Many other food companies follow and begin making separate recipes for their monster customers

May 2022, snails are declared the national animal of ebott, and popular snail breeds are recognized and the society of the domesticated snail is created for shows and licenses

November 2022, a different country tries to declare war on ebott on the grounds of them “stealing” their young working force (immigrant workers). Ebott threatens to close borders to tourists, those coming for medical care, and all outside companies selling in their lands. The untied nations slaps down the country declaring war.

February 2023, a new branch of the royal guard, called the NPTRF (national people’s trafficking relief foundation) or more commonly called the reverse kidnappers by ebotts supportive teens, is founded to combat the rapidly rising issue of monsters and humans being trafficked and dragged outside the country

#worldbuilding #I may add more to the timeline in the future #depends on if anyone suggests some necessary events

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