#FUCK that metal thing on his shoulders its too detailed

[littlespider-art]

wip. how do i get tumblr to not eat the quality of my pictures

[mockerycrow]

could we get “here, you can sleep in my shirt” with neighbor!ghost after the reader gets locked out of her apartment in a thunderstorm maybe? i’m horrible w coming up w ideas but have been EATING UP your works lately!

Downpour (Ghost x GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist - crow’s mega masterlist

“Here, you can sleep in my shirt.”

A/N: LOOOOKKKKKK i usually keep prompts for events and this one got sent in after i ended the celebration, but i had to do it!!! i also apologize this took so long. i also made this gn, i know you used she/her pronouns but i finished this when i realized 🫠 i’m sorry!

[WARNINGS: none, tension perhaps!]

THE ENTIRE DAY, it had been raining nonstop. The humidity was raising by the hour, making everything sticky and somehow even more wet than it was before. You’d try to wipe your hands dry from the rain, but it’s like you were just spreading the water droplets around, the air so humid as it never gave the water a chance to dry up on its own. It didn’t help that your entire day went to shit, too. Your car ended up breaking down and you missed the bus by just a few minutes, making you late for work. You ended up missing the bud on the way back as well, forcing you to walk to work in the rain, and walk back home in the rain.

Lucky you, your boss wasn’t as mad as you expected them to be.

You shudder as your soaking wet clothes stick to your skin, making your way up a few flights of stairs to your apartment floor. You had goosebumps lining your arms under your soaked shirt, your shoulders uncontrollably shaking as you walked down the hall, tracking wet droplets onto the carpet that probably hasn’t been cleaned in a few years, but has one of those designs that hide the dirt and grime. You hiss quietly in an attempt to distract yourself, your hands patting your pockets for your keys. You grab them and pull them out and you insert the key into the key hole and you turn—but the damn metal breaks, your key successfully snapping in half. Your jaw genuinely drops as you stand there for a moment, a tense, “Are you fucking kidding me?” spilling from your lips.

It’s too late to call the building manager to come along and help you, and it’s definitely too late to call a locksmith of some sort. You know none of your friends or family are awake by this point, either. You curse quietly as you bend at your knees and pitifully attempt to wiggle the broken part of the key out of the deadbolt, you even try to turn the key by lining up the base of the key to the shaft—but of course, it doesn’t work. You’re so focused on your door that you don’t notice your neighbor across the hall has opened his door, watching you in silence for a moment. “Today of all days.” You angrily mutter, pathetically kicking the bottom of your apartment door, as if it’ll magically swing open for your convenience. You hear someone clear their throat and you jolt because it’s late, and you didn’t expect anyone to be around.

You turn around and blink when you meet eyes with your neighbor—Simon. He’s standing in the doorway, one hand grasping his door, the other leaning on the doorframe on the side. He’s a big man—tall and muscular, shoulders broad and wide, torso following and tapering off near his waist. His arms were big too, and no doubt his legs are the same. He has a strong jaw with little stubble, his hair a shabby blonde, paired with some dark brown eyes that certainly tell a story. He had a bunch of noticeable scars, but you weren’t one to ask about that sort of thing. You know he has a tattoo sleeve, but you’ve never been close enough to know the details of said tattoo sleeve. The thing that surprised you the most, though, is that he’s home in the first place. You knew that he worked in the military, although he was pretty private about everything concerning himself so you didn’t know details. During your small interactions, you’ve managed to become friends.

“Hi.” You say sheepishly, coddling your keys in your hand. Simon’s eyes roam your body from head to toe before his lips curl into the most subtle smile. “Got caught in the rain, hm?” He rasps out, tilting his head ever so slightly to the right. You nod and almost with comedic timing, you begin to shiver again. “Seems you’ve broken your key, too.” Simon adds unhelpfully, moving his hand from the doorframe. You huff and rub your upper arms in an attempt to somehow keep warm whilst dripping water all over the hallway carpet. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” You reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Simon huffs, the sound nearing a chuckle as he speaks up. “It’s lieutenant, actually.”

Your eyebrows raise for a moment because Simon actually shared something slightly personal with you—his rank in whatever branch of the military he’s in. “Well.. Lieutenant Obvious,” You begin, your voice coming out as a gentle tremble as the cold hallway isn’t doing you any favors. “It’s nice to see you home safe.” Simon clicks his tongue against the inner of his cheek, his eyes boring into your figure without responding. He seems hesitant, his posture stiff as he scans your face and your body language. Simon makes eye contact with you once again, the air thick with tension until he makes his decision; he slowly opens the door wider and steps out of the way, wordlessly gesturing you to come inside.

You try to hide your total and utter surprise, but it doesn’t last long as you quickly tread into his apartment, seeking warmth. You couldn’t say that you didn’t try to imagine what the inside of his apartment looked like—he always came over to yours. His apartment is fairly blank, but in its own way; it’s homey. Comfortable. It’s one hundred percent Simon. There isn’t really any photos of himself nor his family. There’s a couple of paintings that he’s bought over the years, definitely symbolizing different things you don’t know about him. There’s a couple pairs of shoes on a rack near the front door—some running shoes, a pair of working boots, and a pair of shoes that obviously haven’t been worn in years, judging by the layer of dust covering the toes of the shoes. Otherwise, from what you can judge from standing near his living room, you can tell he keeps everything neat and clean.

You hear the front door shut and lock behind you, and you hear his heavy footsteps begin to approach. “You should get warm. I’ll grab ya a towel. Take a shower, yeah?” His voice is low and nearly rumbling in your own chest as Simon approaches you, and you turn to look at him. He presses his lips into a thin line as he makes eye contact with you again, his eyelids naturally lidded. “I’ll throw your wet clothes in the wash for you in the mornin’.”

You nod and don’t bother to question anything at that time, your skin covered in harsh goosebumps, your clothes no where near the point of drying. “Where’s your bathroom?” Your voice is a bit meek as you speak, the coldness of the water is beginning to get to you. Simon walks over to a clothes basket near the couch, speaking as he does so. “Down the hall, middle door on the left. Door should be open.” You don’t waste any time and you quickly get yourself to his bathroom. You close the door behind you and your hand finds the light switch, flipping it on. His bathroom is a decent size—which is surprising for the size of the apartment. You don’t feel incredibly cramped, which makes sense for Simon.

You peel the soaked clothing off of you and they land on the floor with a gross slopping sound, causing you to wince. You decide to wring the remaining water out of your clothes into the bathtub before putting them in a pile on the bathroom floor, as Simon doesn’t have a clothes hamper in there. You put your phone on the sink counter, and luckily you managed to keep it dry. Being stripped from your sopping clothes, your skin is cold to the touch, but you begin to feel yourself naturally warm up. You draw back his shower curtains and manage to figure out how to operate his shower—you always found other peoples bathtubs and showers to be puzzles to use. You turn the knob a couple of times and feel the water that’s splattering down from the shower head into the tub, and you step into the tub after you deem the temperature the right one.

You close the shower curtain and you huddle yourself under the water that’s beating down onto you—it nearly burns as it’s running against your cold skin, but you grind your teeth and bare it because in reality, it isn’t that hot. You’re just incredibly chilly. You make sure to put your head under the stream of water too, and you’re enjoying the warmth so much you jolt when you hear Simon’s knocking at the bathroom door. Before you can answer, you hear the door open—but just a smidge. “I ‘ave a towel for you here,” Simon announces, raising his volume a bit so you can hear him over the water. “I’ll hang it on the towel rack.”

You shout a quick thank you over the water, hear him shuffle for a moment and then the bathroom door closing with a swift click. You appreciate his offer of comfort, while also respecting your privacy in such a vulnerable space. You make sure to take your time in the shower; allowing yourself to bask in the warmth coming from his pipes, the water running over your shoulders and down your torso, replacing any sense of coldness you’d earned by getting stuck in that rain. Eventually though, you decide it’s time to get out. You sigh and turn off the water, and you open the shower curtain and lean over to grab the towel. You shake the water off of your feet before stepping onto the bath mat in front of the tub and you get to work drying yourself.

Simon eventually knocks on the door again and opens it, but just enough for him to shove his hand through the crevice. In his grip is a shirt and some sweatpants with drawstrings. “Here you can sleep in my shirt. Your stuff is in the dryer.” His voice is low and muffled, and you smile a bit to yourself as you quickly snatch up the clothes. “Thank you, Simon.” You say with a soft tone, examining the clothes in curiosity. “Of’course,” Simon begins. “I got you set up on the couch, too. You’re welcome to my refrigerator as well.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise because this is such a drastic difference than a few months ago—probably a year ago by now. “Thank you..” You can’t help but repeat yourself, gratitude lacing your voice. He responds with a simple grunt before closing the bathroom door again.

You dry yourself off completely and you slip the shirt on, as well as the sweatpants. You tighten and tie the drawstrings if you need to, and despite these clothes being clean, they smell like Simon one hundred percent. You don’t complain, though; he smells kind of like freshly raked soil mixed with bourbon, as well as something you don’t quite recognize, but you guess is gunpowder. It’s comforting. It’s a main reason why you know Simon is home half the time; if the hallway smells like him, just a bit.

You find your heart skipping a beat and you can’t get the dopey smile off of your face as you hang the damp towel up on the towel rack, unable to stop thinking about Simon’s sudden kindness. You feel kind of special, from him letting you into his apartment all of a sudden. You take a deep breath in the bathroom mirror before opening the bathroom door, preparing yourself mentally on your neighbors couch; the neighbor you admittedly don’t know too well and probably shouldn’t trust so easily, but you do anyway. And it seems like he’s beginning to trust you, too.

[literally-noone83]

Something Childish

Geto×Reader Nanami×Reader

Warning: None.

Word count: Short.

a/n: Trying to keep my pieces smaller, my ideas more manageable (I have about a thousand unfinished works). Anyways, just some unrequited love, babies. My fav. Enjoy babes.

"Wha- Nanamin?!"

"Wait seriously??"

"You like-"

You slap your hand over Gojo's big mouth.

"Could you say that any louder?" you hiss at him.

Like a child whispering gossip at the playground he repeats himself, "You have a crush on Nanamin?"

You tsk your tongue at him, shoving his face back with your whole hand. His piss-poor attempt to lower his voice make your cheeks flush and your brows pinch in frustration.

"What? It's not like he's gonna hear us." Gojo argues, glancing at the convenient store across from them. You three stood by the bared rail that separated ongoing city goers and the busy roads of Tokyo. You gripped at it tightly, refusing to look at either of Geto or Gojo that caged you, or towards the door of the store you knew Nanami and Haibura were in buying snacks.

"He could come out at any moment"

Geto was silent. He noticed the way you swayed, the way you looked so nervous. You were never this nervous, not even on missions.

"Or hear your big mouth from a mile away"

"I can't believe you like emo boy-"

You smack his arm. "Don't call him that"

Your defence for Nanami wasn't unfamiliar. You often stood up for him, as you did for anybody who was teased or judged. Under new light of information, the boys looked to see it was affection. A sudden feeling of stupidity washes over Geto, he should've known.

"Do you... really like him?" He asked.

"No- Yes, I mean... maybe?" You let out a curt sigh, "I don't know, I've liked him for a while..."

Your two best friends glanced at each other before gazing back down to you, they were thinking the same thing.

Geto began gently, warry of your sensitivity. "How come-"

"And you never told us??" Gentleness goes amiss with Gojo, as his questions is more accusing than worried.

"I- it just never came up ok?! Its not like you guys tell me your crushes or- or any arising infactuations"

"Yes I do!"

"No you don't" You throw an incredulous look at the white haired deliquent. Geto quietly sighs.

"Yes I do! I tell you all my fancies." He crosses his arms.

"You tell me girls you think are hot, not girls you like, dimwit, there's a difference."

"Ok maybe I dont get crushes- but I'm sure Suguru does!" He throws his hands at Geto, and you glance at him. Geto blinks, his face flushing slightly.

"Oh stop it! Jeez when did you guys become to invested in my love life?" You leant on the rail once more in resignation.

"Uh when you started liking one of our friends, fucking Nanamin"

"Saturou"

"What?"

Geto shoots him a silently reprimanding look Gojo knew a little too well. He relents with an eye roll, begrudgingly turning away from you to lean his back on the metal. Geto's gaze softens as he refocuses on you, silence finally settling upon them.

He hears you groan into your arms, evidently regretting ever telling them.

Seeing you this riled up was new. This stressed over a crush of all things he never knew you'd have. Not that he thought you weren't capable of having one, you have feels and emotions, you're a human being, of course at some point you'd like someone, anyone it's just-

Geto blinked away his thoughts. Its just... Crushes felt childish, and you were everything but. You were always pragmatic on missions, meticulous and calculating when it came to every plan and every detail, you scoffed at nearly every romance Gojo tried forcing you to watch with him, you had these walls up; ones that only came down around them. Around him. Because that was just how you were, but here you are, getting embarrassed over something as simple as a crush and Geto couldn't help but feel sympathy.

He places a hand on you shoulder.

"Hey... you know you can tell us these things right? I mean you don't have to but..." Geto lowered his head just to catch your strayed gaze, "We're friends, yea? Nothing to be embarrassed about." His words are soft and sweet, and he offers a smile that's kind and genuine once you finally meet his eyes. The corner of your lips pulls into a small appreciative smile the way he likes to see it, knowing he's got your sweet spot. He always did.

You place a hand over his, that makes his skin tingle with goosebumps, and your lips part to say something,

"Suguru-"

The door of the convenient store dings, "We got snacks!!" Haibura's sing-song voice erupt in the pathway exiting the store with a ding, pulling your attention away from Geto.

Another ding and Gojo jumps towards the shorter second year who's quick to dish out the goods that was requested. Geto flashes a polite smile as he's handed his ongiri, but his eyes keep wandering back to you. You're gaze is elsewhere and he follows it to Nanami who took his time to give thanks to the cashier, holding an extra few treats.

Recognition flickers across his eyes. It's the milky pink popsicle - strawberry, your favourite. The same one he bought you every time he went out, thinking of his friends as always. Thinking of you, always.

He catches the way you two exchange words. The way Nanami rubbed the back of his neck as he gave you the treat, trying his hardest to keep his composure. The way you look up at him surprised, yet quick to blink away your expressions. You avoid eye contact with the blonde before you, and your voice rises into a slightly high pitch than Geto is used to. If he wasn't so caught up in the unfamiliar sight, he would have laughed, teased you. But all he can think about is how foolish he was to not have picked up the signs earlier... not picked up the fact that you liked someone else.

"Ok let's go! Before we miss our train." Haibura chimes. Geto is ripped from his thoughts at the round of 'ok!'s from everyone. "Ok," His delayed response goes unnoticed. Nanami and you lead the group, an awkward walk as you politely chat.

"Wait guys! Wait up-" Gojo grabs Haibura from running up to them, covering his mouth.

"Shhh," He presses a finger against his lips, tightly gripping his jacket to stay between the seniors. "Let them have their moment, yea?" His pats the smaller friend's chest, a stunned look on his face.

"Moment? What do you-" He gasps, "Does Y/n like Nanami?"

"Quiet, Child, they'll hear you."

"Gojo tell me!"

"I made a vow to never tell"

"Gojooo!"

While Haibura pesters Gojo with questions, their words seem to blur and fade into the back as his focus lays on you. He couldn't seem to look away. Even under the sunsetting sunlight, the smile you offered glowed all the more. His eyes traced your lips as they moved, inaudible words Geto silently wish he could hear in that moment. He noted the way the corner of your eyes crinkled, grinning so wide at something Nanami said until your eyes disappeared into moon crescent shapes he loved. Your head tilted the way he knew you to do just to let someone silently know you're listening. He watched as you threw your head back laughing, a genuine laugh he knew the sound of too well, only to count the seconds before you're lifting a hand to cover your mouth - a habit he didn't like. From afar, he still had the reflexive urge to reach up and pull away your hand gently just to hear you properly, but he settles with digging his hands deeper into his pockets.

Gojo was right, this was your moment. But despite tearing his gaze from you, it flickered back to your face. For once he finally took notice; he could see it in your eyes that the walls were, too, crumbling. For someone other than him. It was moments like these, when his heart raced a little just because you smiled and time seemed to slow down as your eyes lit up.

Sometimes, Geto felt pretty childish himself.

[melodymunson]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader x Chrissy Cunningham oneshot

Baby love me, apocalyptic

5.3K words

ao3

warnings p in v sex, threesome, pussy eating, fingering, use of a toy (dildo), cum swallowing, pure filth, cream pie, raunchy smut and pure filth, unprotected & protected sex, blowjob, handjob, mentions of cheating. (not Eddie or reader + a big fuck you to Jason Carver).

backstory: Eddie, Chrissy, and reader are all college age. Chrissy is 20, reader and Eddie 22. Its the year 1988 and Chrissy is back in town from college. Reader lives with Eddie and he is still Chrissy's drug dealer. Chrissy didnt die in 1986 and its slightly AU. The fruity four defeated Vecna in 1986 along with Eleven and Max except Vecna comes back years later.

Synopsis: You were former friends with Chrissy Cunningham. One day she showed up to visit the trailer park to buy some Ketamine from Eddie. What started as a rocky evening led to a night none of you could ever forget. (A little re-imagining at the end and Chrissy does not die in this Stranger Things universe).

Eddie was your boyfriend and your best friend. After being long-term friends for the first three years of high school, you began dating. Your former best friend Chrissy had joined the popular crowd, and she became the head cheerleader. You were not on the best terms with her anymore, but had been best friends for about 7 years and had known each other since elementary school. There was a time when you could tell her anything and you were practically inseparable. Some days you missed her a lot, but it was great that you had Eddie. Even though you were both outcasts, you still really understood each other and had a lot of fun together, no matter what you did. Just sitting next to him and listening to heavy metal music was good enough for you. He was the person you told all of your secrets to now that Chrissy was a part of your past since 11th grade.

Chrissy needed to buy some ketamine, and she knew Eddie had the goods. After she arrived at his trailer and they exchanged pleasantries, they made the deal and she came inside to pay for them. You and Eddie had been rolling joints, and you felt all relaxed and mellowed out. You had just had a shower together, and it was great to just get comfortable on the couch with him and listen to heavy metal. It was a great time until she showed up, at least. She said hi to you and you nodded as you gave a very vague response to her. Things were awkward. After she sat down, you pulled him in close to you. He offered Chrissy the joint, and she accepted. As it was passed around, you felt so good and relaxed. It was already the second joint you had shared with him that day and it was just what you needed. After some silence ensued, you broke it by speaking up first.

"So why did you come here, Chrissy?"

"I needed to make a deal with Eddie. I don't know why you care, though it's just business. I haven't even talked to you in years now," she replied with simply a shrug of her shoulders.

This was news to you because Eddie had promised you a date night, just the two of you. He knew you had a falling out with her, just not the details, but the tension was so thick in the room that it could be cut with a knife.

"I'm just surprised you would come over to Eddie's place with him being a social outcast and everything. I guess you didn't expect me to be here even though practically the whole town knows we are dating," you told her with a roll of your eyes.

"Look, if this is too uncomfortable for you, then I'll just leave. I'll make it simple for you."

She got up, and Eddie stopped her by holding her back.

"Wait, don't go. We can figure this out," Eddie told her in a promising tone.

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Just stay then. It doesn't matter, I guess. Whatever," you responded as you flicked the ash from the joint and passed it over to Eddie again.

"Fine. I guess I will stay for 5 more minutes."

She sat back down with her legs crossed and her arms crossed around her chest. Eddie looked over at you and mouthed, 'Calm down.' You were glad he was there to intervene, and even though you were pretty skeptical about Chrissy staying, you were glad that a fight hadn't ensued. He always kept cool and level-headed. You secretly wondered if she had bought drugs from him before. You were a bit jealous, but also had some pretty strong feelings for Chrissy. That was over now, or so you thought. Eddie was yours and you trusted him. You knew nothing could come between the two of you. You were the biggest supporter of his band Corroded Coffin, and you shared a bond with him that neither of you had with anyone else.

"She wasn't supposed to come over until tomorrow. You have every right to be pissed off, though," he explained before taking another drag of the joint.

"Just forget it. I'll put on some music for us," you told them as you got up and turned on the radio. The song playing was PainKiller by Judas Priest. It was one of Eddie's favorites. He started nodding along to the song as you returned to the couch and sat on his lap, hoping to make her jealous.

It felt like impending doom some days because Hawkins had the reputation of being a very dismal town with a dark past and history. Victor and Henry Creel were the town outcasts and their family was the town's legends, but for all the wrong reasons. Life was random, but you cherished it and even though it was full of loss sometimes, you would not give up on Eddie and you hoped you could repair the damaged friendship you had with Chrissy. Secretly, you thought she felt the same. Having her around sure was interesting. Eddie felt sometimes like he couldn't deal with the big jumble of thoughts constantly going through his head, and if Vecna's curse was real, he felt he was screwed. Instead of dwelling on that, he planned to make the most of each day and do what he could to make it through. With you by his side, things were so much more bearable. With Chrissy having a hectic and rough home life, she vowed to not let it fully control her. Getting better was a slow process for her, but she was taking it a little at a time and day by day.

When you used to have sleepovers with Chrissy, you would always share a bed. Her room was fully decked out in pink shades, but for you, it was just the opposite. You loved horror movies and metal instead of all girly things, but your friendship still worked just like opposites attract. Having so much time with her and sleeping next to each other made your feelings for her grow. Even though she was just your friend, your feelings became deeper for her, but you never told her. Occasionally, you would practice kissing each other and you felt even more attracted to her because of it. Getting popular changed her a bit, and you drifted your separate ways the summer after tenth grade.

Recently Chrissy had been breaking up off and on with her long-time boyfriend Jason Carver because of stupid little fights and you wanted to rub it in her face just how much you loved Eddie. Chrissy was taking a drag and her eyes looked hazy. Maybe once she got high enough, she would lighten up and stop being such a drag. As she passed the joint to him, their fingers brushed together but you pretended not to notice. You had an idea at that moment to lighten the mood. You whispered into Eddie's ear and he nodded, then took off his denim vest of Dio handing it to you and you put it on. The next song was Looks that Kill by Motley Crue, and it was one of your favorites. Chrissy was staring at you with a genuine look of interest on her face. You gave Eddie a lap dance as the song led into the chorus. He had the biggest smile on his face and he occasionally looked over at Chrissy, who was weakly smiling and even blushing a little and giggling. You gave Eddie some kisses on his neck as you gave him the dance and as you turned around on his lap grinding on him, you threw your head back onto his shoulder and his hands caressed your body. When the song was over and a commercial came onto the radio, he gave you another kiss. The lap dance was something you had a lot of fun doing and with her around you were shocked you could be as into it as you were instead of shy. He blew some smoke into your mouth and then handed you the joint as another song came on.

"You doing okay over there, Chrissy?" He asked her curiously after a brief pause.

"Yeah, I'm great. I could go for a bottle of water."

"Sure. I was thinking about getting a beer for myself. Be right back. Anything for you, m'lady?" He asked as he turned back to you.

"Just some water, please. Thanks."

Eddie kissed you on the temple and tapped your ass playfully. You moved closer to Chrissy and after taking another drag of the joint; you passed it to her.

"So what's on your mind?" Chrissy asked interestedly.

"I actually can't believe I did that with you here. It's so unlike me."

"It was great, though. I wish I had your confidence. Look, I'm sorry we aren't friends now, but I would like to give our friendship another chance."

"I would like that if you are serious. I mean, why not? Let's give it another, try I guess."

You both smiled, and you leaned in closer to her. It might've just been the weed talking, but you were feeling a strong attraction toward her. Before either of you could say another word you gave her a small kiss on the lips.

"Do it again," she told you with a raise of her brows and a mischievous look on her face, looking disappointed at how quick the kiss was. If it wasn't for the drugs you probably wouldn't be doing this but it happened and there was no going back. Suddenly she was reminded of the times you had practiced kissing each other and she was craving more from you.

"I thought you were back with Jason though…"

"Yeah well, it's not going so well I think I'm going to break up with him again. I saw him kissing another girl. Also, I found a used bra and a pair of panties in the glove compartment of his car. I found the key even though he had it locked."

Jason could seriously go get fucked you thought to yourself. No one deserved that ever. Not even Chrissy. Especially not Chrissy. You kissed her again and she deepened it, pulling you even closer to her. Only moments later Eddie walked in with his beer along with two bottles of water and a surprised but pleased look on his face. Seemingly, he was quite interested in the scene that was happening right in front of him but he also was a bit perplexed that you two went from arguing to kissing so quickly. It's not that he minded in the slightest. You had talked to him before about if the opportunity arose and you were with another person, particularly another girl you liked, it was okay to kiss.

"Didn't mean to interrupt…"

You and Chrissy broke the kiss, only now realizing he was there again.

"It's fine Eddie. Come sit down. I'm sure Chrissy wants her water."

He walked over to the couch, sat down again and handed Chrissy her water and you the other water.

"I guess we put on a sort of a show for you, huh?" You asked him as you took his hand in yours, fingers now entwined.

He took a big swig from his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I loved it, though. What guy could be upset with his girlfriend for kissing another girl?"

You were so turned on at that moment and you gave him a deep, passionate kiss and then looked back over at Chrissy. With the joint now finished and the 3 of you feeling pretty buzzed, a smirk formed on your lips. Something told you that things were about to get much more interesting. You and Chrissy drank some of your water then set it aside.

"I've never really done something like this before. I'm having so much fun, though," Chrissy admitted.

"Good. I'm glad. Tonight has been something else, hasn't it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around Eddie's shoulders pulling him in even closer to you.

"Now it's my turn to give you a lap dance Y/N," Chrissy told you before taking a chug of her beer for extra confidence.

The song on the radio was Talk Dirty to Me by Poison. You moved off Eddie's lap and sat down next to him. Chrissy stood up and danced on your lap. Eddie watched with fascination as she moved and grinded on you with her short cheerleading skirt on. He practically guzzled his beer while he got into the moment. Her lips grazed yours as she teased you and pulled away. She was giving you such a hot lap dance, and you were having the time of your life. As she danced your eyes stayed focused on hers and when the song was over she gave you another kiss.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," you offered up as a suggestion, wanting to take things further with Chrissy and Eddie.

"Definitely. I thought you'd never ask," Chrissy responded as Eddie got up and you, as well as Chrissy followed him into his room.

You felt excited about all the possibilities and what could happen that night with Eddie and Chrissy. You liked her and it was great. She liked you too.

You went up to Chrissy and wrapped your arms around her from behind and kissed her neck as you heard her soft whimpering. You pushed her hair back from her face and caressed her chest, causing her to gasp. You removed her top and her skirt, then let her undress you down to your panties.

"Now tell me what you want to do with me. I want to know your innermost thoughts and darkest desires," you whispered to her.

"I want to show you how much I like you. I want to pleasure you."

"Of course, but first, let's make Eddie feel good."

She nodded in agreement and you kissed her deeply and passionately with tangled tongues. Once the kiss broke you pulled Eddie close into you and kissed him then watched as they kissed each other. Getting down on your knees on the carpet, you undid his pants and unzipped them. Chrissy got down next to you and watched eagerly with wide eyes as you removed his thick and perfect cock from the inner confines of his boxers. As you grabbed her by the jaw and looked into her eyes you said,

"Right now Chrissy, I want to see how well you can suck cock."

"Eddie, you are so big. I want to feel you down my throat," she told him in a soft voice.

He looked down at both of you with lust in his eyes. He wanted to feel both of your mouths so badly.

"Fuck him with your mouth first. I want for you to start."

She caressed the tip of his cock then his shaft and kissed every inch of his length before she wrapped her mouth around the head taking him into her mouth little by little as she began to caress and cradle his balls and rub the part of his shaft she hadn't yet reached with her mouth. She looked so hot as she sucked, deep and even deeper until she established a steady rhythm on his length. The lewd sucking sounds could be heard as she kept going with eager enthusiasm and you stroked his balls.

"Good girl, now let me get a chance."

She popped off his cock, and you met her lips in a wet and sloppy kiss with tangling tongues. Eddie watched both of you as a huge grin was plastered on his face. You took him into your mouth with pleasure quickly reaching his pubic bone with your nose and began to choke and gag a little on his cock but just at first until you fully adjusted to his length. He rocked his hips back and forth as you moved your mouth loving the feeling of the very back of your throat. Chrissy watched with great interest as you sucked him off like a pro and he pulled your hair back with one hand while his other hand rested on his hip.

"Such a good girl for me putting that mouth to good use. Deep throating me like a porn star," he groaned as he closed his eyes for just a moment.

You looked up at him and fluttered your lashes as you kept on sucking him off with strands of drool and pre-cum running down your mouth and chin. Soon he pushed you off his cock and pulled you up with a firm grip of your hair to meet your lips in a kiss. Your tongues moved with passion as you kissed him back hard.

"I want to watch as you ladies please each other, then I'll join in."

He sat down in a nearby chair and you took that as your signal to guide Chrissy to the bed and push her down on it. Once you removed your clothes except for your underwear, you leaned down close to her and caressed her chest as you asked her.

"What did you promise me about wanting to give me pleasure?"

"I want to explore your body and pleasure you. I haven't done this with another girl before," she admitted a bit excitedly, sounding full of longing and yearning for a chance to get to do this with you. She wanted you to be the first girl she had ever made love to and as far as she was concerned, Jason was now history.

"Well, you can please me then. I would love that."

You laid down on the bed as she straddled your thighs, kissed you from your neck down to your collarbone, chest, and stomach, and then parted your thighs. You opened your legs wide for her as she kissed and licked down towards your inner thighs and removed your panties with her teeth as Eddie watched his cock twitching in his pants his beer now gone.

"This is nice but I want your tongue," you commanded firmly.

Chrissy looked at you like you were the girl of her dreams and you wanted to give her the best night of her life. With Eddie there, you knew things would be even better. The thought of sharing Eddie with anyone wasn't something you thought would happen or with Chrissy of all people, but now that it was you knew you would make the most out of the experience. The weed heightened the feelings you were experiencing, and Chrissy looked and smelled so beautiful.

When her tongue and fingers made contact with your clit, you wondered if she hadn't done this before because she knew exactly how to please you. You looked over at Eddie with a big grin on your face and he looked back at you with lust in his eyes and a wicked smile on his face his cock still as rock hard as ever.

She was fairly good at pleasing you and being a girl she knew what your sensitive spots were, where to put her tongue, and just how to finger you. You were so wet already and her tongue and fingers brought you closer than ever to reaching your first orgasm of the night. You tugged on her hair and told her when to go slower and when to apply more pressure. She read the signals well and she looked deeply into your eyes as you moaned and whimpered for her. She was encouraged only more to please you even better. It was so hot to watch her be submissive like this and give you what you needed and craved. Eddie's eyes were on the two of you never daring to look anywhere else worried about missing even a single second of her pleasing you or the faces you were making. As she tongue-fucked you, you caught glances at Eddie and caressed your breasts wanting to put on a show for him. The lewd moans and noises coming from your mouth were making his cock already wet with precum and he was fully erect again. Porn had nothing on this sight in front of him. Seeing you and Chrissy please each other was the hottest thing he could ever watch.

"That's so fuckin good, baby girl," you mewled as she ate you out like you were a four-course meal and you tugged even harder on her ponytail.

Eddie couldn't take it any longer and came over to the bed fully naked now and harder than ever as Chrissy had you on the verge of your release. He fondled and caressed your breasts and nipples as she added another finger and you writhed underneath her, your fingers clenching the sheets.

"Gonna cum- fuck!" You cried out as you began to cum in her mouth.

She pulled away slowly, licking her lips, then kissed Eddie. You got up and pushed him down onto the bed as you straddled his lap then lowered yourself down onto his erect cock. Chrissy was kneeling next to you and caressing your breasts as you began to ride him. His big cock stretched you out so fully and it felt incredible.

"That's my girl taking her daddy's cock just like that. Fuck! So hot," he groaned.

You could never get enough of him, and her touch made the experience even hotter than it would be if it were just you and him. Her caresses felt wonderful. Eddie grunted underneath you and spanked your ass as he bounced you up and down on his cock. As you rode him and your breasts bounced, your moans grew louder.

"Touch me, Chrissy. Fuck me with your fingers."

She obeyed your command almost instantly and moved her fingers down to your wet clit and rubbed circles over it, wanting to make you feel amazing. You pulled her in deeply for a kiss as you rode him and he spanked your ass.

"Fuck, that's so hot just like that Kiss her," he growled almost animalistically.

He felt so fuckin turned on and hard inside of you as you rode him and he bucked his hips even further into you. He never thought that you and Chrissy kissing and being together would turn him on but here he was and you as well as your former best friend, were giving each other carnal delight and pleasure.

As she groaned against your mouth and you rode your boyfriend's cock, you moaned loudly and coated him with your juices. He bucked his hips up into you a bit forcefully as he pinched your nipples and Chrissy finger-fucked you with three of her fingers, making you feel so fuckin' hot and you felt another orgasm approaching you quickly. As you looked at Eddie and into his brown doe-eyes and back over at Chrissy's blue ones, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

You pulled her in for a kiss and crashed your lips together, feeling so wet from her touch, Eddie's cock, and his fingers working against your nipples. Your cries grew louder and the bed squeaked even louder as you fucked him and kissed her.

"Fuck yes, cum all over my cock just like that," he groaned as he felt your juices coat his shaft.

Chrissy licked her fingers greedily, loving your taste, then met his lips in a kiss so he could taste you from her lips. You got off him and whispered into her ear, "You want to ride his cock, right? Now is the perfect time for that."

She blushed slightly, and you wasted no time reaching into the bedside drawer to grab the box of condoms. You eagerly rolled the condom onto his cock as he looked at you, practically out of breath. His chocolate button eyes were wide with wonder as he realized what you were up to.

"Are you sure about this, baby?"

"Yes. I want to see her ride your cock. It would be the hottest thing."

Once she removed the rest of her clothes, you guided Chrissy onto him slowly, inch by agonizing inch. As she took him fully, you rubbed her clit and guided her along as she began to bounce up and down on his thick length. He was so big and girthy and you watched with fascination and delight as you fingered her and yourself. Her moans became louder as she got into the rhythm of it all. As he fucked up into her wet and tight pussy, you kissed her and Eddie grabbed her hips to help her bounce on his cock to his liking at the perfect tempo and pace.

"Fuck, she is so tight. Fuck!" He gasped as she rode him with passion and elicited loud moans as she fucked him.

Getting your favorite toy out of the bedside table, which was a clear glass dildo with a heart shape at one end, you use it on your clit, moving it over your sensitive bud and watching as they fucked each other hard and rough. The sounds they were making and the wet sound of skin slapping against skin were so erotic and it made you move the toy even faster inside of your pussy.

"Now switch and get on top of her," you commanded, as she seemed to be nearing her release.

Chrissy popped off his cock and switched positions with him. He wasted no time ramming right back into her wet pussy as he wrapped her legs around his waist. His thrusts became more sloppy as he was getting closer to chasing his high and you fingered her clit as he fucked in and out of her and made wet, squelching noises. It was one of the hottest and filthiest things you had ever seen before. You were dripping onto the toy now and nearing overstimulation, but kept going as you watched them fuck. They both watched you and whined with pleasure as you used the toy on yourself. You loved to see her tits bounce as he fucked her, and it was so hot to see them pleasing each other like this.

Hearing Eddie's groans was like music to your ears. Seeing him being pleased like this made you feel so hot.

"Gonna cum- Eddie," she whined as she felt like her orgasm was going to wash over her at any moment now.

"Me too, Chrissy," he told her as he thrust his hips into her.

"Cum on our chests," you groaned as you set the toy aside on the bedside table.

A low growl escaped Eddie's lips, and Chrissy moaned louder now that her orgasm washed over her.

"Yes, Eddie! I'm cumming!" She cried out. After she had ridden out her high, he pulled out and removed the condom, quickly tossing it aside and into the trash.

You watched with delight as you were now down on your knees next to the bed.

Chrissy went over to you and knelt as well, kissing you as Eddie muttered 'oh fuck' and gave his cock several more thrusts before spilling all over your chest and hers. You helped clean each other up and collapsed together on his bed. Once you had all come down from your highs and caught your breath, everyone cuddled next to each other, feeling so satisfied from the experience.

"Well that was pretty wonderful. I'm just so glad we were able to make up," Chrissy mused as she rested in between you and Eddie.

"Just stay with us. Stay the night," you suggested. Eddie nodded in agreement.

"I will. I'm glad I'm here. Tonight was the best."

"You're still dating Jason, though, aren't you?" He asked with big doe-like eyes.

It wasn't like Chrissy to cheat, but being with you and Eddie just felt so right, and Jason did cheat first after all.

"Yeah, about that don't think that was working out too well. It was mainly long distance anyway."

"Breakup with him and go out with us. The more the merrier," you suggested, sounding as serious as you could.

"And more mind-blowing sex? I mean, why not? I enjoy being around both of you."

"Then it's settled. You are ours," he told her as he wrapped one arm around her and the other around you.

You pulled her in for another long and lingering kiss. Tonight was pretty wonderful, and it was all thanks to them. Eddie and Chrissy both understood you so well and the sex was amazing. Most of all, you loved the way you were when you were around them. What started as a friendship and then turned into a crush before it turned into enemies was now a friend with benefits and possibly more- but who knew where things would go from here? You were finally at a good place with Chrissy Cunningham and loved your boyfriend more than ever- you wouldn't want it any other way. That same weekend, Chrissy broke up with Jason and exposed him for the creepy cheater that he was. What started as revenge sex was turning out to be something even more.

Weeks later Vecna was taken down again and with Chrissy on your side, you, Eddie, and your best friends Robin, Nancy, and Steve accompanied by Dustin, Max, and Eleven destroyed FOREVER what once was the upside down.

3 months later

Every weekend at the hideout you and Chrissy were there for Eddie and cheering him on front row and center. He loved to see you both get into the show and dance together. It was quite sexy to him seeing you and Chrissy grind on each other. Other people might've noticed, but all of your attention was on them. That night was very special though, because you and Chrissy now had the coolest and best outfits of anyone else there. She helped you to make Hellfire Club cheerleader uniforms that were white and black with the Hellfire Club lettering and the logo of the demon on them. Eddie got so turned on by seeing the uniforms. Once the show ended, you all went backstage and had a little fun of your own. You stripped off her uniform first but left the short skirt on. She did the same for you and you were devouring each other in front of him 69'ing as he got off by stroking himself and licking his lips. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen in his life. When he couldn't take it any longer, he got up and pounded into you, taking you from behind, pulling your hair as Chrissy watched, then switched and fucked her going between your pussy and hers as you made out with her. He spanked you both and his thrusts got even more rough and forceful, but he called you both his pretty princesses. Things were getting pretty serious and not just with Eddie, but with Chrissy, too. That night was filled with so much euphoria, pleasure, and ecstasy. It was pretty hot and heavy with Chrissy for a while and throughout another year of college. After you remained friends but went your separate ways when she found a girl she wanted to date exclusively. From then on you and Eddie only grew closer and even though you found other partners with him, nothing matched the chemistry and mind-blowing sex you had with Chrissy until Steve came around. But that's another story for another time.

soundtrack: Halestorm-Apocalyptic Fate Destroyed-Crave William Control-Romance and Devotion Depeche Mode-Master and servant Motley Crue-Looks that KILL Poison-Talk Dirty to Me In This Moment-Closer (Nine Inch Nails cover) Type O Negative-Can't lose You

taglist: @impmunson @bimbobaggins69 @somethingvicked @babygorewhore @inourtownofhawkins @corneliuswatkins @keeryatmosphere @undead-supernova @ali-r3n @harringtonfan4 @koskeepsake @munson-mjstan @bunnsandroses @steveslittlesunflower @emsgoodthinkin @jadeylovesmarvelxo @zestychili @s6raphic @probablyin-bed @corrodedcorpses @dollalicia @lokis-army-77 @ofhawkinsandskippy @keeksandgigz @hcwthewestwaswcn @emmyshortcake @geeky-introvert @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @xxbimbobunnyxx

[tj-dragonblade]

Pleasure Little Treasure sounds like something I might be interested in 👀

Mmyes, possibly you might recall this one from almost a year ago on the server, the panties-and-piercings-and-jewelry pwp. I've settled on Pleasure Little Treasure as the title, after a Depeche Mode song, and I'm debating (or, Call Me a Pirate the Way I'm Plundering That Booty) as a parenthetical add-on. It fits, but it also implies more comedy than this entails. It's just 100% unfiltered staight-up smut. It's been back-burnered forever but blowing the dust off for this ask has been very productive; here's the freshly-drafted opening:

"Dream! Hello—oh. Oh, sweet christ I. Oh. Hi—" Hob is sat at his kitchen table and extremely grateful for it, because the combination of misfiring synapses and blood rushing south has his knees giving out as he tries to rise. He falls back to his seat, staring. "Hello, Hob." Dream sways closer on designer heels, wearing so much and yet so little, and Hob feels a bit light-headed taking it all in. The tiara is good, a good place to start. It's silver and intricate and delicate, like sparkling lace in the untamed wilds of his hair, rubies and black diamonds encrusting its swooping filigree whorls. His ears are decked in matching studs and little black metal loops scattered along the outer edge, teardrop rubies dangling from silver-set black pearls adorning either lobe. He's got makeup on, smoky silvery-black eyeshadow, black liner, black lipstick; he's fucking gorgeous, and he knows it, but that's just the beginning. His arms are sleeved from bicep to wrist in black lace that keeps going across the backs of his hands to hook over his middle fingers. There are rings on some of his fingers as well, tasteful silver-wrought and burnished black things with rubies set in low profile; his nails are slightly longer than usual, perfectly shaped and polished a glossy glittery black. Four or five necklaces of varying length hang over his chest—a string of black pearls, bright and dark silver chains with rubies and black diamonds scattered along their length, a black lace-and-velvet choker above them all with a sizeable teardrop ruby dangling from it to nestle in the hollow of his throat. His nipples are pierced.

His navel is, too; Hob can't see all the details quite yet but there are teardrop rubies at all three points, and he can't wait to get a closer look. Dream turns, smiling over his shoulder, giving Hob a view of his pale naked back and inevitably drawing Hob's attention to his arse. It's wrapped in black lace cheeky panties, the lower curves left beautifully, teasingly exposed, the shape perfectly enhanced by the height of his heels. He completes the turn with a switch of his hips that accentuates the bulge of his cock beneath the lace, sashays closer; Hob takes in the long lines of his legs in their jewel-and-lace-topped sheer silk stockings (black, of course), the elegant glossy black heels with the red soles and zippers down the back—he's no fashionista, can't remember designer names for anything but he's seen enough to know these are high-end haute couture, and he honestly expects nothing less from Dream. The whole ensemble is a feast for the eyes, and his mouth is watering as Dream straddles his lap and settles himself comfortably, arms draped over Hob's shoulders. Hob is struggling for words, honestly. "Hi," he manages, repeating himself. "What's this, then?"

Here are Dream's shoes, for the record, except his are shiny patent leather glossy:

And if you've made it through all that detailed description? You deserve a bit of the actual smut too, also freshly drafted. (Did I mention I've been productive on this?) Please imagine: Hob is sitting in a chair like this one and Dream's kneeling on the armrests so he's splayed open over Hob's lap:

"Hob—Hob—!" He is sobbing the name, trembling above Hob, shaking with need; Hob kisses the drool from his slack and quivering ebony lip, fingers his prostate at the same lovingly measured pace he's used for the past thirty minutes. "Shh, dove, I've got you. I've got you. Just let yourself feel—" he presses expertly, rubs a slow firm circle and Dream chokes out a gasping cry, more pre-come dripping slowly from around the piercing, through the lace of his panties "—and I promise, I'll get you there." He's so beautiful, like this, coming apart on Hob's fingers, trusting Hob with his pleasure, allowing Hob this time-honored vulnerability and Hob loves him, fiercely. He drags his lips up the line of Dream's throat past the velvet choker, guides Dream's head until he can claim the wet black-and-pink of his mouth, plunder it ardently with his tongue while steadying the play of his fingertips against Dream's prostate. He draws it out another five minutes, utterly enthralled and helplessly addicted to having Dream quaking on the edge above him like this. It is heady and intoxicating; he twists his fingers just so, a sweet caress, and shivers at the sound Dream makes. "Hob—please—" His narrow chest is heaving under the glittering strings of jewels that adorn him; his eyes are wet with the intensity of his pleasure, makeup smudging at their corners. His fingers with their glossy black nails clench and unclench in the shoulders of Hob's shirt and his ebony mouth trembles as he tries to speak. "Please—I cannot—this body, you drive me to madness—Hob, please—!" And Hob. He loves this, yes, but he will not push it to the point of cruelty and so finally, finally, he drives his fingers harder against that beautiful spot within his beautiful Dream, moves them faster; he watches, mesmerized, as Dream is swept into the swiftly-rising tide of orgasm. Dream warbles a keening moan as it begins to overtake him, his lace-clad arms braced stiff on Hob's shoulders, hips squirming low in the space above Hob's lap, greedy for the deep press of Hob's fingers. He's panting breathless sobs with each quickening stroke, bearing down on Hob's hand, trembling all over; Hob reaches up, tugs gently at the teardrop ruby dangling prettily from one stiff rosy nipple, and that's it.

(You can find a few little bits more to this in the wip tag if interested)

[aerynwrites]

Hey! I have a Tech x Reader request.

Only if you're comfortable with it of course since I know many don't like the topic, but I would like to see:

AZI revealing that the reader is pregnant when they go to SID after Techs fall.

A fix it in which they are all reunited is of course welcome but is not necessary. Choose how you like it :)

I was sitting here hoping for a request like this!!! Bc fuck that ending - that ending doesn’t exists. They are all happy and together and amazing and Cid didn’t do what she did and the empire didn’t come after them and they are all planning to live on Pabu for the rest of their lives okay? Okay cool.

Thanks for the request my friend! Had such a good time writing this! ❤️

Unexpected Endings

Tech x Fem!Reader

A/N: please suspend your disbelief with this one lmao. Didn’t go into the gritty details of how reader saved tech she just did. Happy ending Bc it’s what tech and we deserve lol. Hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: talks of pregnancy || reader being pregnant || talks of babies/children and raising them || surprise pregnancy || discussions of death/death scare || but mostly fluff , fluff and more fluff!

**apologies for any grammatical errors, wrote this and posted from my phone, also haven’t written in a while…**

The memories come in flashes.

Flashes of emotions and fragmented pictures as you blink in and out of consciousness.

The last solid thing you remember is lunging from the rail car before Tech could fire his blaster. After that…most of it’s a blur.

You remember vaguely shooting your own grapple line into the still attached portion of the rail car, a searing pain in your shoulder as you grasp the tail end of Techs own grapple line, his weight being almost too much for you to hold alone.

You remember the wind whipping around you as the rail car finally speeds away, Wrecker and Omega shouting your names as they try to haul you both to safety.

Then came the screaming of metal, a deafening smash and then, blackness.

A darkness that ebbs and flows but never fully goes away or stays put. You think you hear shouting at one point, your name at another, Techs voice from far away.

Tech.

That stupid idiot!

That’s the first thing you manage to coherently think once consciousness finally decides to grace you with its presence.

When have we ever followed orders?

What would have been his last words replay over and over in your head as you slowly work your eyes open. Trying to gain sense of your bearings.

Your name comes from somewhere to your right, and you want to turn to look at who it is, but a shooting pain in your neck stops you.

“Don’t move.” They tell you, a gentle hand coming to lie on your shoulder. “You and Tech got the worst of it.”

Tech?

“Tech?” You murmur, lips sticking together, mouth parched. “What…? Is he - did I get to him? Is he…?”

The words come out in slurred whispers, your mind moving too fast and your cotton mouth too dry to produce anything louder.

Finally, a familiar tattooed face appears in your line of sight, brows pulled together tightly despite the way the corners of his lips tug upwards.

“He’s alive. Thanks to you.”

You sag with relief, a small breath puffing past your lips as your eyes slips closed.

He’s alive. He’s alive and he’s here, and he’s okay.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you whisper again, opening your eyes just as Hunter lets out a small chuckle, grimacing slightly at the action as he clutches his middle.

“Yeah, well…get in line.”

You want to respond, but Hunter stops you, instead moving to help you sit up.

The movement is awkward, and reveals to you just how extensive your injuries are. There’s a cast on your leg, bandages wrapped tightly around your midsection, and another cast wrapped securely around your wrist.

Hunter is as gentle as he can be when he helps you sit up, stuffing pillows behind you to help support the action, but every little movement causes a wave of pain to wash through you.

Only when you’re situated and Hunter hands you a small cup of water does the pain start to ebb away, leaving behind a dull ache all over.

You look over to the Sergeant, watching as he seems to mull over something.

“Where’s Tech?” You ask, desperate to see him after everything that happened.

Hunter sighs, “He’s in the other room, probably arguing with AZ over his bed rest orders.”

You huff out a small laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “That sounds like him.” You say, fingers fiddling with the cup in your hands. “But he’s…okay, right? I know you said he’s alive, but-“

Hunter cuts you off, reaching over to take the cup from you before placing a reassuring hand over your own.

“He’s fine. Pretty banged up, but nothing a few weeks of healing won’t fix. Same goes for you.”

You nod, finally relaxing back into the pillows. “And everyone else?”

Hunter smiles. “We’re all fine. All of us. Even Omega, who’s been hard pressed to leave your side by the way. The only reason she’s not here now is because Cid convinced her to go out for some Mantell Mix.”

The mention of Omega brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’m just glad to hear that-“

“You’re awake!”

the chipper voice of AZ interrupts you as the familiar silver droid practically flies into the room.

“Hi, AZ,” you greet the droid, unable to stop your smile from growing at the little guy.

“Recognition processing seems to be functioning normally,” the droid says, hovering closer to you as he does other scans. “No signs of significant Brian trauma or bleeds. No progression of spinal injury. Vitals are holding stable. No signs of other internal injuries…”

You sit patiently as the medical droid rattles on for several more minutes, listing off your injuries and what he’s been doing since you’ve been asleep. Hunter has moved to the corner, talking softly into his comm link to who you assume is the rest of the batch. Probably to let them know you’re awake.

“Do you understand?”

AZ’s questions pulls you from your observation and you look back to the droid.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that again AZ, I wasn’t paying attention.”

The droid nods and points to a data pad he placed in your lap.

“Your care instructions are listed on there. My main recommendation is bed rest and very low activity levels until your spinal injury and concussion have subsided. Drink lots of fluids along with the medications I’ve recommended and you and your baby should be perfectly fine!”

Your eyes snap up to where AZ still hovers, chest frozen as the breath inside you seems to be sucked from your lungs. Frantic eyes dart to where Hunter still stands, his own eyes wide at the droids words.

You finally manage to stutter out just a few words when you suck in uneven breathes.

“Me and my…baby? Baby?”

Kriff…I think I’m going to pass out again.

AZ’s head cocks to the side, an otherwise adorable gesture if he hadn’t just given you life altering news.

“You’re heart rate is elevated and your breathing is erratic. Are you experiencing distress?”

As much as you love AZ, you want nothing more than for him to leave right now. His presence adding to the anxiety spiking within you.

Hunter must sense this, because he’s immediately stepping forward and ushering the droid from the room despite his protests.

Soon he’s by your side again, eyes searching your own.

“You didn’t know?” He asks.

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you force yourself to take steady, even breaths despite the ache it creates in your ribs.

“No, no I - I didn’t think it was - I never…” you trail off, the reality of the situation sinking in.

The burning of tears at the backs of your eyes comes on quicker than you can anticipate and soon you’re trying in vain to blink them away.

Hunter reacts instantly, standing up and moving towards the door. “I’ll get Tech.”

You don’t have time to respond before he’s gone, his presence soon replaced by the man you thought you were going to lose.

He looks just about as good as you do. He’s dressed in his civilian clothing, but you can see the bandages peeking out from beneath the collar of his shirt, and he’s leaning heavily on a makeshift crutch.

And his goggles are missing.

But none of this even matters when his eyes meet yours. He’s on the edge of your bed faster than an injured man should be, your arms wrapped as tightly as you dare around his middle.

All the words you had for him. All your scathing remarks and scoldings and angry names disappear the moment he wraps his arms around you - and you can do nothing but cry as he holds you.

Finally, after several tear filled moments, you manage to speak through your cries.

“Why would you do that?” You ask, pulling away enough so you’re able to see him. “What were you thinking?”

You emphasize the last word with a hard squeeze to his shoulder, lips tugging down into a frown.

Of course, he has a response ready, probably having already said half a dozen times to his squad mates.

“It was the only logical thing to do in order for the rest of the squad to survive.”

You huff, “obviously not, since what I did worked and we’re all alive.”

Techs brows furrow, his own lips thinning before he speaks. “What you did was illogical and reckless. It had less than a five percent chance of being successful-“

You pull away from him then, eyes wide with disbelief. “But it was successful!” You reiterate, “We’re alive because of it. All of us. You were just ready to throw it all away!”

You’re angry now, angry and sad and heartbroken that you almost watch the man you love die, because of fucking statistics. So, before Tech can talk any sense into you, you continue, needing him to know how much his decision hurt.

“You would have died, Tech. You would have died and left me behind. Left us behind…” your hand falls to your stomach instinctively as you trail off.

“It was the only thing that guaranteed your best chance at survival,” He says again, softer this time as he reaches out to take your hand in his own.

You shake your head, “I don’t care, you can’t…you can’t do that again. Ever. Not anymore.”

He looks confused for a moment, before moving to give you what you’re sure is a rebuttal. Some excuse about how the squad as a whole matters more than one member. But you cut him off before he can, squeezing his hand tightly in your own.

“I’m pregnant, Tech.” You tell him, the words shocking him just as they had you.

He’s silent for a long time, his eyes darting from yours to various places around the room before finally landing on you again.

You don’t know what you expect. Part of you, the romantic part of you, hopes for some grand gesture of love. A mind melting kiss, him to jump up and down in joy, a huge smile to spread across his lips as he spins you around.

Yet, the response he gives you is better than all of that combined. Because it’s Tech, and you should have known he would be logical above all else.

“I think I can refrain from any life sacrifices from now on.”

His words, words only Tech would utter at a time like this, bring a watery smile to your lips as you lean in to embrace him once more.

“You aren’t upset?” You ask, voice small from where your face is tucked into his neck.

He holds you tighter, hand running soothingly up and down your back.

“Quite the contrary,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I never expected for this to be a possibility, so…I’m still processing.”

You can’t help but laugh as you pull away from him, wiping away any stray tears. “That’s normal…I think. I’m still processing too.”

You shake your head, looking down at where your fingers are now laced with his.

“I thought you said clones couldn’t have children.” You say, looking up at him in question.

He shrugs, and you can practically see the gears in his head turning.

“Technically speaking we should not be able to. The Kaminoans engineered all clones to be infertile, for obvious reasons, but…” he trails off for a moment before continuing. “Clone Force 99, we were an experimental batch of clones. Our inhibitor chips were rendered less functional due to our mutations. Perhaps this is similar.”

He reaches quickly for the data pad on your lap, pulling it up closer so he can see as he taps away at the screen.

You smile. “What are you doing?”

“Looking at your medical information regarding your pregnancy. ” He says plainly, pausing his tapping as he seems to find what you’re looking for. “The baby seems to be healthy,” he says, reiterating what AZ had told you. “However, it’s too early to tell much else without more advanced equipment.” He looks up at you, a rare teasing smile on his lips. “AZ estimates that you are approximately two weeks along in gestation.”

You do the math quickly, cheeks reddening at what it adds up to.

“Pabu?” You ask, unable to stop the smile when Tech nods.

Of course that’s when it happened. It was the first time in forever that any of you in the batch were able to have a sense of normalcy. The first time you weren’t running around on missions or saving each other.

It was…peaceful.

Tech starts typing again and you tug him towards you, urging him to sit next to you on the bed as he does whatever it is he’s doing.

“What are you looking at now?” You ask, sinking down in the pillows so you’re able to rest your head against his shoulder.

“I’m searching for articles on how to take care of an infant, as well as searching for nearby space ports where supplies for children are available.”

His tone is so matter-of-fact, so sure, as if he didn’t even think twice about this sudden change in his life. Like he’s accepted it readily and without trouble.

But you have enough worry for the both of you. Something you make known right away.

“Do…do you think we can do it? Raise a kid with what we do?” You worry the blanket between your fingers. “You almost died today Tech. We all came so close, and I…I can’t do this without you.”

The data pad is set aside as soon as you start talking and his hands come up to cup your cheeks before he brings his lips to yours.

It’s not heated or rushed or heavy. No, this kiss is slow and tender and so full of love you have a feeling you know what Tech wants to say before he even speaks.

He pulls away from you slowly, resting his head against your own as he drops his hands to take yours.

“Missions have always been my top priority,” he begins, and you worry about what he will say until he continues. “Just consider this my new mission, and the only one that matters.” He tells you, bringing one hand to rest gently on your stomach.

“I will speak to Hunter about returning to Pabu, as soon as I’m done.” He says, leaning back into his position beside you as he picks up the data pad once more.

You settle in next to him, holding his free hand in yours as you watch him work.

“Done with what, exactly?”

“Research, of course.” He says, bringing your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles. “I refuse to be unprepared.”

The next few moments follow in relative silence, both of you just relishing in each other's presence. Only Tech’s periodic baby facts and information interrupt the comfortable silence.

When Tech is discussing the various types of cribs and their different sleep functions, you finally interrupt him.

“I love you, Tech.” You say, stopping the man in his tracks.

He smiles, squeezing your hand in his own as he looks down at you.

“And I, you, darling.”

The words are simple. To the point. Just like Tech.

And when he’s back to telling you about cribs and the best baby formula, you have a sense of all being right with the world.

[silentium-symphony]

Work of Art Modern AU (Link x Reader) I

(a/n) AAAHH I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! i've reached that point in the semester where i've got either a project or an exam due every week, and i haven't had any time to write :( but i'm here now with a brand new fic for you! so thank you for waiting :)

parts will be linked and will also be available on my masterlist when they're available!

cw: link experiences unwanted sexual advances in the beginning (nothing too explicit) so please proceed with caution, afab!reader, swearing, zelda and link are besties :}, breathless conversations in a stairwell, you and link are just some awkward goobers

wc: 2.3k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

"And this one-of-a-kind masterpiece depicts the moments leading up to the Hero's decisive victory over the Demon King. For just a moment, let's draw our eyes toward the finer details the artist has decided to depict. Look with me now at the use of light in this scene, and how it starkly contrasts..."

Is that a new crack?

Blue eyes absently traced the thin line that fractured the pillar's marble surface. A wisp of gold tickled the tips of his lashes and he huffed, coursing his fingers through his hair in a bid to keep it in place. He kept his eyes trained on the small, black fissure that coursed through the white stone.

Definitely a new crack.

Taut fingers absently fumbled the ring of keys latched to his belt while the other hand thumbed the baton's cold metal. Link's eyes fluttered shut and he let out a soft sigh, adjusting his feet to abate the blood pooling in his heels.

"--Ahem."

His broad shoulders twitched and ocean blues met irritated meadow greens, which juxtaposed the seemingly sweet smile Zelda flashed him. Link dropped his hands immediately, causing the metal nuisance to sing a dying song against his thighs; a quiet chorus of giggles served as the encore.

"Thank you," his best friend cleared her throat, "as I was saying--"

Hylia, he was so bored. He rocked on his heels and watched Zelda motion to the large, newly restored painting before them. He knew how hard she had worked on restoring the old thing, and he was proud of her for sure, but if he had to listen to her spiel about the painting's history one more time--

"Hands off the rope please." He uttered softly to the woman dangling off the red velvet. She scoffed, but her look of disdain eventually softened into something... heavier. A sultry smirk snaked its way onto her lips and her eyes turned lidded.

"Sorry, sir. I just couldn't get my eyes off such a gorgeous masterpiece. It's a work of art, y'know?"

"I understand ma'am," his knuckles tersed. "But please refrain from touching the rope."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." She dragged out. "Can I make it up to you with some coffee?"

"No thank you. I suggest you turn your attention back to the presentation. That is why you came, right?"

"Well, what if I told you I actually came for something--or in this case... someone else?"

A shudder wriggled down his spine; she continued before he had time to draft his next sentence.

"I know you've seen me around... Why do you think I visit this dump of a museum so often? To stare at the same paintings day-in-day-out?"

Her fingertip traced the velvet rope, nails softly scuffing the luxuriously-textured barricade. He kept his eyes focused on the little strands of hair peeping out of the mole on her forehead, his throat constricting and drying at the waft of cheap perfume.

"C'mon... After the museum closes, let's grab some food and head over to my place, yeah?"

"He said 'no,' ma'am." A soft voice deadpanned behind the both of them. A pair of bewildered eyes locked with calm, unblinking (E/C)s. "No means no."

"Excuse me?"

"Stop harassing him." You spat, cold venom honeying your tone. "No. Means. No. Do I need to scream to get that through your fucking head? That would draw the crowd's attention to you, don't you think? I wonder how they'd feel watching you harass someone in broad daylight...”

“Tch… Worthless piece of shit.” Red heels clicked right past you as she side-bodied your smaller frame, sending you back a step or two. Your eyes followed the storming figure as she dipped past the grand marble staircase.

“--And with that, I would like to extend my most heartfelt gratitude on behalf of all our curators here. Without your support, our work in restoring these priceless historical pieces would not be possible. So from the bottom of my heart--“

“--Thank you.” He mumbled, his pulse quickening.

You flashed him a soft smile.

"No problem. I'm sorry you had to go through that.

"It’s okay. This... Isn't the first time."

"What, she tried pulling this shit on you in the past?"

"Oh, no, I mean..." He sighed. "It's not the first time someone's done something like this. I never really knew what to say, so I just... didn't say anything, so… Thank you."

"Well, I'm glad I could help." Your smiling eyes averted towards your buzzing phone. “Oh, fuck... Sorry officer, I gotta run! Have a good night!”

"W-Wait, can I ask for--"

--your name?

You raced down the same path his unwanted suitor went a few minutes prior, back disappearing past the staircase. The warmth of gratitude in his chest chilled into a growing, aching hole. Gods, if only he had gotten your name!

"Soooo... who was that?" Zelda snickered, saddling up to the flustered man. Link's cheeks reddened and a small pout bloomed on his lips.

"No one."

"Really? So 'no one's got you all hot and bothered?"

"'Hot and--?' Nah.."

"Uh-huh, whatever you say." She slinked an arm onto his shoulder and dangled off his steady frame, watching the thoughtful wander of the museum's patrons. The air about her turned somber, and her voice dipped to a volume only the blonde could hear. "... Did someone bother you again?"

Link's lips curled into a soft smile--a rare sight, even for his lifelong friend. Confusion ticked Zelda's features as she saw this new reaction.

"Well, the one who ran off helped me with another 'admirer.'" A dreamy sigh. "I was just thanking her."

A soft, contrite smile graced the curator's lips.

"I'm happy to hear that... I'm sorry this is such a regular thing for you. I wish there was some way to know what kind of person we're selling our tickets to..."

Link waved off her concerns and shrugged her off, throwing his arms above his head and feeling the sweet, satisfying pops in his joints. His neck craned from side to side, filling the air with a chorus of crackles; Zelda visibly grimaced.

"Stop doing that! You're gonna snap your own neck one day."

"If I do, does that mean I get a day off?"

"Of course not." She retorted mirthfully.

"Man..."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Of course the elevator was broken.

Link heaved open the heavy metal door which led to the winding staircase unused by most tenants.

And of course he lived on the 6th floor.

With a huff, he lifted his foot on the cement step blackened from gunk and other dubious substances. He tried to pay little mind to how his shoes grew stickier with each step, or how the flickering light's buzzing drilled a dull ache through his temples. He rounded the first of many corners and kept an even pace, already beginning to feel a bit spent.

Hands fiddled around his hoodie's pocket, feeling for the familiar roundness of his earbud's case and the soft edges of his phone. As he popped his earbuds in, his eyes glazed over the dozens of unorganized playlists that littered his screen, eventually resting on the simply named 'workout' playlist. His music's volume amped up to an almost painful level in a futile effort to blend his rapidly beating heart with songs from his chosen playlist.

"ᴼ⁻ᴼᶠᶠᶦᶜᵉʳˀ"

He stopped to respond to a meme Zelda sent and texted an equally unhinged one back. The greasy scent of takeout wafted to his nostrils and he looked up, slightly confused.

"ᴼᶠᶠᶦᶜᵉʳ, ᶦˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘˀ"

A body filled his peripheral; pure fear coursed through his veins as his overactive imagination transmogrified a very real and alive person into eldritch nightmares unutterable by man. His phone leaped for safety, clattering down the flight of stairs for what felt like an eternity before rolling into its final resting place by the suspicious goop in the corner.

A moment of shock-spawned stillness blanketed the two persons--before Link was racing down the staircase.

"Hylia! Are you okay?!" A familiar voice called out. He stopped, fingers hovering a few hairs away from his phone as he slowly careened his face behind him.

There you were--gorgeous, gorgeous you--donned in sweats, a hoodie, Crocs with Socks™, and a steaming bag of takeout. The harsh fluorescent light softened your silhouette, casting an almost ethereal aura about you. Link gabbled an... exclamation of sorts as he grabbed his phone. He slinked the grimy thing into his pocket as he cooly made his way up the steps, shame and a newfound desire to drink lava inapparent on his blank face.

"Yes, thank you." He rubbed his (clean) hand against the back of his reddening neck. "Fancy meeting you here."

"I can say the same to you!" You laughed, shifting the takeout from one hand to the other. "How was the rest of your shift?"

"It was uneventful, thankfully. I'd like to thank you again for helping me out earlier... I really appreciated it."

"Aww... Of course. I'm really glad I could help you out back there."

Gods, how could a smile both ease and excite him all at once?

You both started up the steps once more, silently thanking and cursing your luck. After such a hasty exit you thought you'd never see the man again, but here you were, walking side-by-side up a neverending staircase. You looked down at your food, making sure the handles weren't gonna snap or anything, and happened to catch a faint mustard stain right by your heart. If only you didn't look so... grimy.

"S-So," you started, praying he didn't catch your stutter for air, "uh, what were you listening to?"

"Um..." He panicked slightly, "Just... workout music."

"Yeah? What song?"

"Something that... always gets me pumped." He cleared his throat. "What'd you order?"

"Oh, just some poultry pilaf from the Gerudo restaurant that opened up recently!"

"The one by 3rd Street?"

"Yeah, that one! Have you tried it yet?"

"Nah. But let me know how it tastes."

"For sure!"

A much-needed silence filled the air, both of you desperately trying to hide the fact that you were fighting for your next breath. A bright red '4' filled your vision and you groaned, throwing your head back.

"Gods, these stairs go on forever."

"Tell me about it." He hissed shakily. His eyes wandered to your slightly trembling arm holding your dinner. "Do you want me to hold that?"

"Oh, no, I'm okay." You subtly wiped the sweat beading your brow. "My floor's coming up. Thank you though."

"What floor do you live on? If you don't mind me asking."

"The 6th!"

6th...?

"Me too."

"Really? I'm surprised I never saw you around though. I’d definitely remember someone as cu—“ You coughed suddenly, rubbing a fist into your chest. "C-Cool as you!"

That... wasn't much better.

As you proceeded to curse the day you were born, furled golds and narrowed blues widened in disbelief before softening into a bashful smile.

"T-Thank y--

"Oh look, our floor!"

With a hop, skip, and a step, you bounded up the last flight of stairs and swung the hefty metal door, your frame teetering on the loose door handle.

"After you." You gestured grandly, giggles flitting between the two of you. He raced up the last of the steps and grabbed the edge of the door a little ways past your head, pulling it gently from your grasp.

"No, after you."

"Why, thank you, um..."

"Oh! Link." He stuck his hand out, a boyish grin splitting his lips. "My name is Link."

"Link?" You took his hand. “It's nice to meet you. I'm (F/N)."

"(F/N)..." You hated how your heart swooned just now. "What a cute name."

You canned the need to scream into the void as you slinked through the threshold, laughter alight. You waltzed to the crossroad leading to the separate wings on your floor. “I’m going this way. What about you?”

“I'm heading that way too.”

"O-Oh, okay!"

He strode to your side and you descended down the long hallway, the silence stiffening your throat. It felt... kinda weird knowing where he lived or vice versa; your eyes flitted to the wall's yellowed moulding, a path your eyes had taken hundreds of times.

You rounded a corner; so did he. You trailed along the gentle bend in the hallway; he did as well. Your heart started to race. A prickle of doubt heated your chest as you approached your door. He wasn't following you... was he?

When's he gonna turn when's he gonna turn when's he gonna turn when's he gonna

"You're my neighbor?!" Heads whipped around to catch the other's surprised gaze. A stiff laugh cracked between the two of you and you creaked your gazes away.

"W-Well." You coughed out. "Um, goodnight..."

"N-Night.."

Your bodies slipped past your respective thresholds and softly clicked the door shut. You sunk your body into the door; the thick metal drew the extra heat from your back, but it did little to remedy the red in your cheeks. Knees wobbling, your frame slid down, down, down onto your doormat as you cradled your face in your hands, heart thundering in your ears.

It was almost loud enough to drown out what was undoubtedly tapping on the wall.

You clambered to your feet, plopped your nearly forgotten dinner on your countertop, and skated to the source of the sound, pressing your ear against the drywall with bated breath.

There it was again!

You returned his taps with the same level of enthusiasm. If you listened past your drumming heart, you could trick yourself into thinking you heard a laugh. You giggled as well, heart fluttering at your newfound, totally-platonic-and-definitely-not-love-laced relationship you managed to foster all in one night. A tight knot ached your sides and your belly protested loudly.

Oh right! Your pilaf!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

i havent seen the inside of your ask box for ages so let me just say i finished money magic and WOAH. leave some talent for the rest of us damn. also. im going to add ‘financial domination’ to my mental list of kinks and im doing it with a sly smirk on my face because id never heard of it before this fic and i certainly will be looking for more in the future.

i genuinely think im into it only because you write it so. fucking. well. i love this community youve built where so many people can discover new kinks through your writing and it makes me so happy being able to find out new things about myself from a piece of art like this. i just love fandom sometimes.

plus i think of your blog as a haven bc i can come here anytime i want and its like someone took all the things i love about fandom and put it through your brain then onto here. a true blessing.

ok onto the fic itself, i have a few things to say:

1) i will never get over the way you build up to the climax of the fic. like, from the beginning, its always so obvious that something big is going to happen and i just can never wait until the next update to find out. i dont think ive ever skim read one of your paragraphs because every word pulls me in a makes me want moreee.

2) the way you use imagery in your work is actually something i think should be studied because you do it SO WELL. an example from chapter one that i cant stop thinking about;

His mind whirls. He’s back to spinning out of control. It feels as though his head might come off his shoulders, twisted and twisted and twisted around, thinning his neck, and becoming too unsteady.

like hello???? i can picture every tiny little detail of this moment and its insane how you can just do that.

3) the chemistry between your characters never feels forced or awkward. ive noticed that you dont use dialogue too much when writing smut and i love that because it lets the reader really visualise whats going on. but when you do its absolutely perfect. the way you kept the power dynamics going steadily throughout and even when they were talking on the balcony, it just made me realise how much you really care about what you write and it made reading so much more enjoyable.

theres literally like a million other things i could say but im not gna ramble here. instead, take some snippets that i especially enjoyed that i will think about for a long, long time:

A shiver wracks Steve’s body, accompanied by a rough exhale that fills his bedroom—a confession of how much he’s enjoying this by its very nature.

-

Steve shivers so hard it might as well be a convulsion. Good. The way his words leave no room for argument, for thought, for anything but all this electric embarrassment to fill his veins and circulate throughout his body, polluting him tip to tail. Jesus. He commands all of Steve without being there. It’s heady. He can feel himself being pulled in like a sailor, lonely after months at sea, to a siren.

-

A moan comes tumbling out of his mouth, humiliated to the point that he feels dizzy. He couldn’t stand and walk straight if he tried, he’d stumble and fall onto his knees. He wants to stumble and fall and have Bucky push his heavy hands into his hair, he wants to feel the cold metal of his rings and the blunt sharpness of his fingernails against his scalp as he grabs and pulls and twists, making sure Steve feels his place.

-

Steve imagines this is what being a pinata feels like, struck hard enough that it's twirling around its point of suspension, unable to know what’s up or down, left or right, just focused on each hit and when the next one is going to come, then, ah!, all of the sudden spilling its bounty.

-

i could put the whole fic here but you know. that’d be too long. ill just have to hope what ive said here is enough.

bottom line is that im OBSESSED and i will be taking the pleasure of rereading this fic as soon as i can. thank you so much for sharing!!! lots of love 💗

"Money Magic"

YOU ARE SO SWEET, ARCHIE!

Thank you, lovely <3

I'm so glad to hear that you finished that fic, and, more importantly, that you enjoyed the read so much! You're too kind. Haha, I'm hitting you again with the kink discovery. I think if I can't find a job (a scarily real threat, lmao), I can make a job of that alone 💀💀 I, too, though, am going to be looking for more of it! I haven't found anything else with fin domming in stucky fics, but I would love to!

I'm honored that it's even a possibility that you'd just be into it because of the way I write it <3 Me too!! I love the absolute filth I can write and people not batting an eye, aside from horny reactions that I enjoy very much. Thank you. Plus, even better, so many people have come into my inbox to say depraved, kinky shit. Like. YES. Discover more kinks from me, tell me more about your kinks, and let's explore it all. Not you calling my porn writing art

(Like, absolutely, porn is art. Art inspires emotion, and horny is a valid emotion. I wholeheartedly believe that and would very readily call lots of other writers erotica art, but hearing that about my own? Wtf. Shits wild)

And calling my blog a haven?! Staaawp. You're too cute and nice, I can't take it

1) Ah! I'm so glad to hear that 'cause I plan out my fics EXTENSIVELY, lmao, and I try very hard to up myself consistently within my longer, chaptered fics.

2) You are so fucking sweet I am gonna scream. Oh my god!! I love how you pulled quotes from my text! What the hell??? That's so nice!

3) Thank you, thank you, thank you!! I feel like I use a lot of dialog 💀💀 That's probably because I think so hard about my dialog, though, lol. I do care, definitely. I care too much sometimes 😅 but, yeah, I try to always think, okay, but would the character actually ever say or behave like that? Both this AU character, but also the canon character because the AU is, of course, a canon extension/expansion.

Aww, I don't have words (which is saying something for me, haha)! Again, though, I love, love, love that you included snippets that stuck out to you!

YOU'RE SO SWEET!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND THANK YOU FOR SUCH WONDERFUL COMMENTS ALONG THE WAY!

[em1e]

⠀ ⠀一虎 // notes ⠀ ༝ ༝ manila!kazu ⠀ ༝ ༝ 731 words ⠀ ༝ ༝ angst :3 requested from this ask. no beta we die like men ⠀ — kazutora finds himself frozen in place, feet rooted to the ground at the sight of blood

⠀

this was not your idea of a cute date. 

first seeing the note on the kitchen counter made you hope maybe it could be. kazutora wasn’t really one to plan something extravagant, leaving it to you or keeping it simple. simple was easy. safe. something secure to fall back on. nothing could go wrong if it was planned right, and kazutora always made sure things were planned right. 

the note being there meant a couple of things - that your sweet, doting kazu was stepping out of his comfort zone by not running tiny details by you to make sure things would be perfect. that he was becoming confident in himself and his own decisions. that he was finally understanding what you mean when you’d tell him you want him to take initiative for some things, because everything being done by you can be so tedious sometimes. 

you’d expected flowers, at the least, a home cooked meal at the most, for your anniversary. now, here you are in the roppongi district, kicking rocks in some abandoned building because this is where the note leads you. 

it’s decided then that you and kazutora need to have a talk about romance. being in the ruins of the building leaves you feeling weird, sending shivers down your spine and leaving you to wrap your arms around yourself for some form of comfort. 

turning a corner, you see someone sitting on an abandoned desk, leaning forward with  his legs swaying back and forth. it’s startling, seeing someone who isn’t your kazutora in this vicinity. he barely moves to acknowledge you, dark hair sending shadows over his face, and when you actually start to approach him and ask if he’s okay, you hear his voice. 

“hello?” 

kazutora’s call echoes off the decaying walls, and you spin on your heel to see where its come from. the man behind you long forgotten the second he enters your line of sight, ready to tear him a new one for inviting you to such an eerie place. 

his eyes settle on you first, widening as if he didn’t expect you to be there, then shift to the person behind you. 

“(y/n)? mikey?” 

huh? he knows the guy here? 

you jump when something falls behind you, turning just in time to see ‘mikey’ leaning into the rubble, digging for who knows what. 

“what’s goin’ on here?” kazutora asks, taking a step towards you. 

“i could ask you the same,” you snap, whipping around to glare at him, “some date this is.” 

“date?” he repeats, “what’re you talking about?” 

“the note on the counter-,” you’re interrupted by mikey bumping shoulders with you, completely disregarding your presence as he approaches your boyfriend, “hey!”

you’re ready to give him an earful too, since apparently neither of these boys know how to treat a person, when you realize he’s dragging something behind him. the metal scrapes against the concrete. a pole, you realize, he has a metal fucking pole. 

“mikey?” kazutora calls, taking a step towards his friend with his brow furrowed, “what’s up with you?” 

mikey raises the pole, ready to swing, and you don’t even know you’re moving until you’re behind him, gripping the pole from the other end in hopes of preventing whatever you think might be happening from happening. 

“(y/n) please leave,” kazutora begs, but you’re holding the pole with shaky hands and shaking your head. 

“no way, you guys aren’t delinquents anymore. we can talk about this.”

mikey doesn’t falter, dropping the pole completely and reaching into his waistband. 

it’s just one shot. kazutora has seen his friends survive worse. it has you dropping to the floor, pole clattering beside you. the ringing that follows is deafening. kazutora finds himself frozen in place, feet rooted to the ground at the sight of blood, your blood, pooling underneath you. it stains the ground, becoming soaked up like a sponge by your favorite sweater. 

he realizes numbly how you wanted to dress nice for this supposed date. 

and mikey realizes, when the click of the gun doesn’t fire another shot at your already bleeding corpse, that he’s come unprepared. he drops the gun, instead going for the pole like he originally planned. it’s tucked safely under your leg, and mikey finds it takes little effort to pull it from under you, adjusting his grip slightly before swinging at the unmoving kazutora. 

[c0rv1dcoll3ctor]

𓆩⚝𓆪 answered for your sins. (mouthwashing)

⛓𓌹♰𓌺⛓ TW: detailed description of gore, violence, swearing, implied 🍇, j*mmy PLEASE NOTE: I HAVE NOT PLAYED NOR WATCHED PLAYTHROUGHS OF MOUTHWASHING. I AM GOING COMPLETELY BASED OFF OF THE WIKIPEDIA + MY BROTHER EXPLAINING IT TO ME. I MAY BE WRONG ABOUT SOME OF THE LORE.

"Take responsibility." ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Jimmy drowned in a series of nightmares, mainly including horses. A loud crash, however, abruptly woke him up; causing him to breathe heavily from the adrenaline of both the nightmares and the sudden noise. He attempted to see through the darkness, but even squinting his eyes led to no outcome. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he stood up, grabbing a flashlight he had near him. He ventured through the darkness-filled hallways, anxiety swelling up in his chest. He didn't know or understand why, but he had a bad feeling about this. He saw something in the corner of his eye, causing him to turn around sharply only to see nothing, as his idiotic brain forgot to flash the flashlight at it. "... Huh?" He muttered, pointing the light at the place he assumed where the anomaly was. He stared long and hard, trying to see if it was still there.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain at his throat. He tried to turn his head, but he felt a metallic object- most likely a wrench- slam against the side of his head, knocking him unconscious. 𓆩✧𓆪 He woke up in a room, but he couldn't tell where it was. He was tied down by rope, and the knots were tight. Real tight. He struggled to get free from them, but he was stupid.

"Jimmy." He heard a feminine voice. He froze. He didn't know a lot of women in the job he worked at, but there was one name that stuck out like a sore thumb.

Anya.

"Anya... The hell are you waiting for!? Untie me!" He chuckled nervously, managing to turn around using his knees; only to fall forward and banging his chin on the concrete ground.

"..." She didn't reply, hesitating before approaching. She put the heel of her boot on Jimmy's forehead, before putting her entire boot onto his head. "Fuck you. Seriously." She finally muttered, before raising her foot and slamming it down on his skull. CRACK .˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳. I stared at the blood in front of me, covering my boot in the scarlet stains. I stared at the corpse who had previously dared put his hands on me. He honestly looked like a pancake; the only thing is that its just his head. It was funny. Amusing, even.

"... I wonder." I mumbled, looking to an axe in the emergency glass case. It was wrong, he was already dead. But he deserves it. His body deserves no respect.

I approached the glass case, seeing no way to open it safely. I simply stared at it before slamming my fist into it, which wounded me. I honestly didn't care. I grabbed the axe, managing to pull it out. I looked over my shoulder, looking at the dead... Thing.

I approached him, turning him around with my foot. I cringed, realizing his face looked extremely disfigured. I immediately get snapped out of my disgust, gripping the axe tighter. I put my other hand on it, raising it before slamming it down onto his neck. It cut through him, except for the bone. The bone was too damn thick.

"...Playing the hard way.. Huh..?" I muttered, making the body of him sit upwards. I grabbed his jaw, cringing internally at what I was about to do. I pulled his head off of his damn body. :) It was satisfying. They will understand. They Won't Care If He's Dead.

✞

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[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

The Initiative Project| Javik

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Reader: female | pre-established relationship

Warnings: Detailed Smut is very much not present but very much eluded too

Notes: Hi, Im on spring break. Enjoy me being back for like a week :)

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"Hey."

"What?"

"Damn, who pissed in your cereal?" Y/n laughed, hands in her pockets as she casually mosied along the high arc of the Citadel with one hand tucked away in her pocket, the other holding a flashlight, neither were meant to be up there, "Garrus recommended you this place?"

"Yes," Javik answered, Y/n smiling small as she took a spot next to him.

"Light generator's busted," Y/n responded, standing next to the Prothean, turning off her flashlight "One hell of a view."

Light pollution usually took such a view away; but now? With the light gone, and nothing but natural light from candles, the beauty of the dark took over, the sky showing its true colors, star dust glowed and burned bright purples and blues, reds and oranges at the center.

"I am positive Andormena will likely be the same." Was his only response, causing Y/n to roll her shoulders.

"Yeah...maybe," Y/n chuckled, "I think we all deserve a long nap after what we've been through; but six hundred years...what will you do?"

"What I have always done," Javik answered.

"Survive?"

"Precisely."

Y/n nodded, "Good plan..."

"Then...I will take my leave." Javik spoke, turning himself to leave.

"You don't have to you know," Y/n told, stopping the Prothean in his tracks; "I...It's..."

"What?"

"Please?" Y/n asked, "Just...for a little while more?"

Even in the dark, it was easy to see he didn't want to be there, yet he stayed, and stood, facing the Citdeals opening which framed the galaxy in front of them.

"Look I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? You do not get to be, sorry," He snapped, his footsteps coming closer till she realized he was clearly in her face, "You do not get to apologize, to be sorry, to be remorseful, you have no remorse, you have no sympathy, you have no mercy. You are selfish."

"Selfish?" Y/n defended, offended by such a remark, "Tell me what selfish, you're clearly the higher being, aren't you? You understand all and every primitive, then understand me."

"Running off to another galaxy! Six hundred years in stasis via cryo! Six hundred years dead!" Javik argued: "All so you can run away from your problems-"

"Problems?" Y/n questioned, "What problems- I have to have people to have problems; You just don't get it? My family in the world I helped survive which I come from does not want me! The family in that world? Does not want me! Thane- the only father I ever had- not even of my own blood dead- the closest thing I had to a brother? Kolyat!? Blames me! Mordin is dead! Miranda is dead! Shepard is dead! My best friend Leigon is dead! Garus and James? Dead! So is it so bad that I ask for one thing; one damn thing that guess what?"

Y/n backing up, already starting to leave; "Ends up being me doing shit for others though anyway! Welcome to our fucking cycle your majesty!"

Y/n turned the flashlight back on, leaving the Prothean alone; alone like he was before her, and alone like he'd be after.

"I need a fucking cigarette." He heard her argue to herself her boots clanking against the metal arch of the Citadel.

Sometime soon, the lights would turn back on, people rejoicing in the artical light, the artificual light that posioned the dark of space.

Y/n got her cigratte, shoved away in the back of Liam's apartments in the Initiative base.

"Let's slow down on the cigs, eh?" He spoke, grabbing the tin from in front of Y/n: "He stressed you out that bad love? I haven't seen you smoke in a few years, you know- since I almost arrested you for underaged smoking, then-"

He paused, Garrus had gotten her out of the situation, promising that if she stopped, he wouldn't rat to Thane or Kolyat.

"Yeah...."Y/n sighed, leaning back, half a lit cigratte in between her fingers.

"Sorry..." he apologized, Y/n nodded.

"It's cool." Y/n told.

She looked out the window in silence.

"you know," Liam started up, "what always gets me up when I'm down-"

"Beans on toast."

"Beans on toast!" Liam cheered, "Want to go get some?"

"Yeah sure why the fuck not, my relationship's ruined, why not ruin my stomach," Y/n responded getting up walking towards the door.

"Hey! It doesn't have to be beans on toast!" Liam laughed in his defense following Y/n into the hall quickly, "Could be avacado."

"We're leaving the galaxy in a what? Week and a half and you wanna eat beans and avacado on toast as your last meals?" Y/n spoke.

"Well, not together." He told, "What's better than toast with beans?"

"Litterally anything." Y/n told as they walked through the halls, "Mini wheats for one."

He gaged as they continued out of Initiative headquarters and to a food court, continuing to go back and forth between food choices. Liam grew up in Earth's British city of London, with the citadel sprinkled in for vast periods of time. Y/n, though born on Earth, never seen a damn day of it: her life was a duct rat: how she met Thane after all, no parents to claim her, so, in a way: Thane claimed her as his; felt responsible, one needed the other after all. Thane got his information, Y/n got her payment, usually settled in Diner food. After some time, it became a weekly thing, the drala'fa and the assassin at a diner, eating whatever was being served: breakfast lunch, or dinner.

It's how she joined the Normandy in the first place, she had gone missing; Thane had practically begged for assistance in finding her; she had disappeared with no trace; she had been caught, grabbed by smugglers and slavers, free product with high profit with no strings attached was ideal. With enough luck, and treats they found the cargo ship and Y/n within. At the crisp age of nineteen turning twenty within her first week there, she was on the Normandy; ready to fight, not to mention she gained an unofficial family. Kolyat had even joined the group for a small time: Y/n and him enjoying each other's company. Kolyat...right, in a fit of anger; perhaps resentment or just sadness he blamed her; it was her fault, it was her doing; she was there she could of stopped Cerberus; it was just one person, it was just one assassin, she knew better, she could of handled it.

"Hello! Citadel to Y/n!" A hand waved in front of her face.

"What?" Y/n asked.

"You were talking then you stop," Scott told.

"I was?"

"Yeah." Sara told, "You forget there was a salad in front of you too?"

Y/n looked down at her food before rubbing over her eyes with a groan.

"Are you good dude?" Scott questioned.

"I'm fine," Y/n told them.

"She's goin threw it; her 50k-year-old boyfriend just fucked her in the ass and left," Liam commented.

"Really Liam?"

"It's true, got her smokin' and everything," Liam told the Ryder twins.

"Damn that's gotta be rough," Sara started, "Sorry..."

"I don't get it." Scott spoke up, "You're 21 dating an old man, look at you; you could have anyone and you date a Prothean you helped unfreeze when the reapers attacked."

"Scott." Sara scolded hitting her twin in the chest.

"What? I'm being honest! Why him in the first place even?" He questioned; "he's an asshole! We all know it!"

"he's not an asshole."

"Right. He's a dick." Scott corrected himself.

"He's rough around the edges sometimes." Y/n defended, "I am leaving and never coming back, I just feel like maybe I should stay-"

"You're kidding me?" Sara asked.

"What?"

"After all you've done, and at your age: you wanna do something for someone else? Again?" Sara argued; "What has he done for you to make you stay?"

"Well-"

"Fucking you does not count," Sara defended.

Y/n was silent for a moment, what did Javik do for her?

Javik had her back, for better rather than worse; usually. After Thane's death, he was her vent mate; her rooms vent connecting right into his, the night crying he claimed was annoying; useless even.

'Crying will not bring back the dead.' He argued, sat on his cot.

'Sorry your royal fuck face that my dad just fucking died.' She snaped back.

'Rage was always one thing you humans got right,' He commented, 'I believing it's one of your...greatest inspirations, it is what has kept your people alive for so long."

'I'm not angry,' Y/n defended; 'I have to keep a cool head, I am not angry. It'll just get more people killed.'

'Not angry?" he laughed, 'Is that what the drell taught you? anger gets people killed? Anger fuels life. It is the chaos that keeps peace in balance, You're anger is not what gets people killed. it's the ignorance that is contained within your anger.'

Y/n was silent for a moment as she laid down on her cot, wipping her face with her sleeve.

'How do you know?' Y/n asked looking up at the ceiling.

'Its one damn thing I have learned in this cycle,' he told, 'I have also learned you're saying Ignorance is bliss, is quiet idiotic. It is what breeds your ignorant behavior in anger."

"He's had my back." Y/n spoke in Javik's defense, "More than once."

'You could have protected him!" Kolyat shouted, 'Why didn't you protect him!'

"I-"

'What?! You tried!?' Kolyat shouted, 'Tried isn't good enough! You're so busy fucking around that you couldn't even do what your fucking here for!'

'You will not talk to her in such a tone!' Javik shouted, pushing Kolyat back and out of her face, 'Speak to her on such a tone again, and it will entail a problem between me and you.'

Kolyat glared at him, 'Do I make myself clear?' Javik argued.

'Fuck you.' Kolyat snapped pushing passed Javik and walked away from the two of you.

'Kolyat-' y/n spoke, but he was already gone, 'Kolyat, please...'

'He will not bother you-'

Y/n had already crumbled, crying into her hands in the middle of the room he walking up to her.

'Do not waste tears on some so ignorant. You primatives-'

She hugged him in desperation, freezing Javik in place as she held onto him.

"Yeah. He's had my back." Y/n nodded to the group, "Just rough around the edges is all. Trust me."

"What we mean is." Liam spoke up, "We want you to be happy, live for you. You know? What do you want to do? For you? You've done a lot for others."

"I don't know what I want anymore." Y/n answer honestly.

"Well..." Liam spoke, "How do you want to feel?."

Y/n looked down at her food, "I don't know."

"Thats thw good thing about stoves." Liam told with a smile. "Things can go on the back burner to simmer."

Think about it. Just think, it didn't have to be immedate, just, think. Take time, and think.

"I feel full."

"You barely ate."

"Yeah I'll take it with me." Y/n told picking herself up and the container, leaving the group.

Gone from sight, she decided going to her initiative quaters was best, and on the way, she would drop her untouched meal off in front of a duct where it would be grabbed up quickly by one of the kids.

Maybe a nap would be best.

Making it to the halls of doors, each leading to onrs own room and office, she saw Javik leaning up against the wall, clearly waiting. She'd have to deal with it sooner rather than later.

"Hey."

He glanced her way, "Hello."

"You're...here..." Y/n spoke.

"I am."

Y/n looked towards the door, "Did you-"

"Here."

Y/n looked at the small bunch of flowers wrapped in paper and a string.

"Oh. Marigolds." She spoke, "my favorite."

"They were annoying me. Every time I passed that old human woman."

"So...you got them for me?"

"They annoyed me because they reminded me of you."

Y/n took them carefully, "thanks. Appreciate it..."

"The Krogan offered me work."

"Oh. Wrex?" Y/n spoke, looking down at the flowers," bounty work?"

"Land Work," Javik commented, "a farm."

Y/n looked up, "he offered you work as a farmer?"

"Amongst other opportunities."

"And farming? It? Caught one of your eyes or? Six?" She questioned.

"All of them." He commented: clearly not getting the joke.

Y/n chuckled under her breathe, "why uh. Why farm work?"

Javik was silent as Y/n looked at him awaiting his answer.

"You." Was his final answer, "I had discussed with Wrex while we were still together on the Normandy. You had...talked about it a lot with the fields."

"...the corn fields we saw in that colony," Y/n told him Javik nodded, "You remember that?"

"My memory may not be as sharp as a Drells, but it's still better than humans."

Y/n chuckled in response gently rubbing one of the leaves on the marigold's stem to keep her mind busy, hoping not to give away her bashfulness; "Thanks uh again for the flowers,"

Javik gave a curt nod as she smiled back, "I should get to filing some stuff then..."

With a put of a button, the door opened allowing Y/n to go through she sent him a small wave of the hand as she did. The door closed as she stood there, looking at the flowers in hand, before setting them on a shelf in an old ration can she had used for a vase. She looked at them sitting all pretty in an old can. A finger came up to her mouth as she chewed on the nail in debate. Y/n was quick to backtrack, opening the door once again; Javik still standing there seemingly having a debate himself as Y/n quickly kissed him, he quick to kiss back; hands grabbing her arms as he backed her up into her office, Y/n quickly flailed her hand around for the control panel to press the lock button, uncertain if she got it, she was already pushed back into the desk, being lifted up to sit ontop it.

"I don't think she's going with us," Sarah argued.

"She's going." Liam defended, "Trust me."

[neganmct]

Fuck it, here's one more

See Ya Later - Eddie Munson x GNS!Reader

"I don't feel like I'm doing the right thing"

There it was. Those words. "What do you mean?" You asked. The gentle breeze seemed to put you at ease. "Leaving Hawkins?"

Eddie fiddled with his hair, tugging some of it over his lips. He leaned his back against the windshield of your car. "Yeah" he let out a heavy sigh and folded his arms, letting his hair fall back to the side. "I'm sad, I'm happy... I feel like I'm gonna make so many mistakes"

You looked at the thrash metal head then to the long and endless road. "Maybe you are, maybe you aren't" you sat up and lifted a hand, resting it on Eddie's head. "In my opinion, you're gonna regret not taking this chance because you might not get another one"

Eddie's Bambi eyes stared into yours. Big, lively. It was a little detail you loved. "What if I regret leaving?" He asked, a tremble in his voice.

"I don't think you will, Eddie" you shook your head and smiled softly. You turned, looking back at the road. There was a billboard, blank and waiting for its next advertisement. "See that board?" You lifted a hand pointing.

Eddie blinked then followed your direct order. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Any doubts are going to slip away the moment your face is plastered everywhere, advertising your music, your hard work, you" you cupped his cheeks in your hands. Those gaunt cheeks felt small against your palms. "After everything you've been through, Eddie, you deserve this"

Eddie's face was blank for a moment. His heart skipped a beat. This is going to make it harder... Eddie thought. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh through his nose. "Ok" he whispered, swallowing. "But if I'm doing this then you can't wait either"

You raised a brow. You didn't expect that response. "I can't wait either?" You questioned.

"No, you can't wait either" Eddie shook his head. "When an opportunity like this comes for you, chase it" he lifted his hands, moving them over yours. "Don't deny something will come along because you know something will"

For a moment you were shocked. You hadn't expected that he would drag you into this encouraging talk. No words were coming to you as you two stared in silence. His hands over yours, his cheeks in your palms. The breeze blowing his frizz over his shoulder. "The clock is ticking" you whispered. You leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his forehead.

Eddie closed his eyes. "I'll... I'll go if you promise me one thing" he opened them again when you pulled away.

Your hands slipped away from each other.

"What is it?" You asked.

Eddie smiled. That smile melted away worries, lit up rooms. Soon it would be lighting up stadiums. "You promise me you'll chase the opportunity when it comes for you too"

You began to run through the same thoughts Eddie had. Could you leave Hawkins behind? Could you leave some people who shaped you into who you are today behind? Would you?

"Please"

You focused back on Eddie.

"Please, promise me" Eddie sat up, turning his body to the side. He lifted up on of your hands and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

Your heart melted. "Ok" you nodded, smiling at the rising star. "For you, Eddie Munson, I promise to snatch up that big opportunity" you leaned in, letting your foreheads touch. "Now this isn't goodbye" you whispered. "This is simply..." you pulled your head back. "A see you later"

There were tears in Eddie's eyes. He moved your knuckles from his lips. He nodded. "I have to go" he looked at his van, filled with his things, his memories that he could carry. "Running out of time" he let go.

There were things inside of you screaming at you to stop him. To take his hand in yours and pull him back. As you watched him walk across the road your heart hurt. It burned. "I..." you whispered. The words were stuck in your throat.

Eddie was a beautiful human being. He stood at the open door of his van and let out a heavy sigh. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at you. "I'll be thinking of you, of everyone in this shitty town while I'm up there"

You snorted. "Heart-felt dork" you let your legs hang over the hood of your car. "Get moving, Munson, I'll be looking forward to your tapes!"

Eddie smiled and climbed into the car. The car door was pulled to a close once he settled himself down.

It hurt. It hurt to hear that engine start one last time. It hurt to think that you might never get the chance to ruffle that messy hair again. Or hear that mischievous cackle. Or watch a grouchy Eddie stand with a cigarette and his Garfield mug outside his trailer, daring for someone to breathe wrong. But this was the right thing. Everyone deserved that opportunity to move on to a happier life.

"Clear skies" Eddie pushed his black ray ban's up on to his face. "Perfect day for a drive" he leaned back in his seat. He looked out the window.

No words were said. Maybe some had to be. Maybe some didn't. You two nodded at each other. Soft smiles on your lips.

Then Eddie began to drive.

You stood up, walking into the middle of the road and watched. You didn't move. You barely blinked. You didn't relax as you stood tense watching that van drive and slowly disappear in the distance. "See ya' later" you whispered, stepping back then turning away. "See ya' later, Eddie"

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2024 No. 10 - Passing out from pain

07/31/2018

For a moment of sweet delusion, he wondered if it'd all just been a particularly detailed nightmare.

This was how all this had started, wasn’t it? A certain blue-colored, over-enthusiastic doctor by his side, tampering with his veins, leaving more unpleasant sensations than doing any good as so often while Scott was trying to get his goddamn job done … Sure, that was it. Hank had probably just been particularly generous with the narcotics dose this time, and Scott had dozed off a little on his IV, simply dreaming up atrocities like multiple betrayals from close allies, a U.S. metropolis under siege, with the government just watching courtesy of a President on Brotherhood strings, a sword in his daughter's chest, his wife's dull eyes as one of the most powerful telepaths on this planet wielded Katja's newfound powers through her to almost tear the defenses of that new Mutant heaven and start World War III single-handedly … Weeks of standing still, at a loss about how to make this catastrophe right instead without leaving the planet in ruins … And then this reluctant grasping at the straw of a peaceful solution against every instinct and conviction, promptly followed by being proven right in the shape of a stun dart in his … Right. Not a fucking dream. The more Scott's dazed mind fought its way out of artificial sleep though, leaving his perception open to the sensations truly wrecking his right arm until he wished for that harmless stinging and tingling from some useless pain therapy back … He soon couldn’t help but wonder if his unconsciousness maybe hadn’t been far off about one thing, conjuring up what had been the last day of this shaky but hopeful peace established after the Phoenix crises. That conversation in his office with Hank before everything had gone to hell once more … It was perfectly possible, that self-ironic quit about how statistics were against Scott regarding making it out in one piece of this new global threat once more, might have been closer to a self-fulfilling prophecy than he cared for. It was as much awareness as what the attempt of his subdued brain to get in control of the situation – which he was pretty sure was not the first one – achieved before a voice in the back of his mind shied away from the surface suddenly, letting him know, nothing good was waiting there. A cowardly whisper he pushed back where it belonged with gritted teeth, forcing himself, somehow, to finally open his eyes for more than a sluggish wink … The overwhelming light and intensity of a color spectrum he'd only very rarely perceived in his life since mutating pierced his head like a power drill, at least that a familiar sting smoldering behind his forehead inhibitor because of course they would even while his recovering thinking finally understood for good, that certain blue-skinned shape next to him was the furthest from a friendly as could be. That he was a long way from his goddamn Principal's office indeed.

Said slender, scaled shape far too close to some sturdy metal chair that Scott finally found himself immobilized to, moved at last, a strong hand with razor-sharp nails somewhere close to his neck raising.

What had only been a slowly building discomfort in half-numbed nerve endings so far exploded in every inch from his right shoulder down to the last fingertip, so intensely from one split second to the next that it had the world around him go right back to black instantly.

*******

His STEM-wired brain, reliable even in a condition bordering closer to delirium than he'd have liked to admit, counted no less than six more times of that soon tiresome game of trying to properly wake up at last, only to pass right out again before he'd even really been able to fully make it out. When Scott finally managed to make a deal with his compromised condition – namely that he'd stop stupidly trying to free himself from whatever crap he'd managed to get himself into thanks to his naivety of believing Mystique of all people even for one second, and in turn he'd get to at least take a look at what that had earned him –, he promptly wished he hadn’t. Turned out he wouldn’t have needed to worry that much about moving anyway, with a couple of dozen metal and leather pads and straps keeping his half-naked shape restrained to Mystique's newest little shop of horrors. As much as he hated himself for the mere thought … Scott should probably be grateful for that mercy, seeing as he could at least finally keep himself afloat with a lot of effort now – as long as he avoided every smallest motion on the right half of his body. At where a certain limb felt with every second of orientation more as if it had been filled with molten lava. His own ongoing groans of pain that kept on waking him up in spite of his increasingly anxious mind being no fan of the idea, he wasn’t anywhere close to curb though, as little as the sweat breaking out on his skin in droves or the irregular panting hurting his throat. But at least after a few tries, he managed to stifle them long enough to grit out a few words, when he saw that certain red and blue shadow move again from the corner of his eyes. The pressure of the narrow metal band around his neck keeping him from blasting that bitch into particles dug into his Adam's apple when he arduously swallowed a few times, to at least let his enemy know verbally, this place would earn a scathing review on yelp if he happened to make it out of here with his head still attached to his body. Truth was, if he'd known it would be like this? Then he'd definitely have enjoyed the more subtle attempt of his foes earlier for far longer, to get from him what they wanted. A certain power replicator mutant whom Mystique had been keeping company in her entourage for a couple of years now, copying probably either Jean's or Emma's gift of telepathic illusions, from how Scott knew Mystique's questionable sense of taste, that had at least only messed with his mind. "Can I see the Maldives again?"

"I’m afraid that ship has sailed." His enemy finally deigned to step into his full field of view, her blank expression distorted by an intense corona of some foreign radiation engulfing Scott's right arm and hand where it was demonstratively suspended with the help of several brackets and spreader clamps. Shi’ar tech, again; Mystique had really wasted no time, making the best of the resources and information she'd gotten her hands on thanks to recruiting a former member of the Defenders of the Earth in her army. Whatever it was that they had injected Scott's limb with, that allowed not a single movement of it as if it wasn’t even fucking part of him anymore, but what still had every single nerve in it on fire, his captor obviously didn’t want it in the rest of his body …

And that, too, he probably should be very thankful for, no matter how much he despised the notion. He had a funny feeling, it wouldn’t last for long.

"But you can choose for yourself how many muscles you want to lose before you start talking."

"Oh, so you changed your mind about needing a waiter in a speedo?" Scott asked as dryly as those unbearable sensations allowed him to, from the corner of his eyes trying in vain to make out what the fuck that bitch had done this time. What kind of alien substances her new acquaintance could possibly have provided her with that made even fucking thinking about how the hell to get away from it an adventure through that haze of agony throbbing in every inch. Or about how to find out where the fuck the mutant was who had come to this enemy fortress with Scott and who would have been even more helpless to Mystique's psychotic sadism … Fuck, he really needed to get a grip on his wheeling mind, and soon. When his half-veiled, blurred gaze finally managed to focus properly and make out more details of this damn room, including the dozens of mirrors doubtlessly meant to drive the point of his depressing helplessness home, nausea coiled in his stomach that didn’t come from the pain or hyperventilation this time. A wide open cut, doubtlessly coming from that diamond sharp blade that Mystique had turned her left index finger into, had opened up the top of his shoulder like a bizarre zipper, gaping, sickening … but neither infested nor bleeding. Whatever was inside his veins had completely stopped all circulation in that part of his body, turning his flesh into petrifying dead matter. Well, that explained how this felt at least. "Gonna be a bitch, serving drinks like that, you know."

"We can talk about that in case they have no more use for you at Westchester after our little chat." Mystique pulled herself up a chair far too close to his tied-up body again once more for his liking, with an almost thoughtless feather-light tap of two fingertips against his elbow that had the room resound with a yell so piercing, Scott needed far too long to understand it had come from his own lips. "You guys do push those away who are no longer of use to your team, don't you?"

"You're thinking of the Brotherhood, I'm guessing," Scott gave back when he could talk again, the syllables increasingly scorching in the back of his throat … a sensation he was arduously clinging to, focusing his mind on these palpable damages. On what in one way or another, he'd been through more than once in his career, fighting crime ever since he'd been a teenager. That kind of hurt, he could handle, that stuff he could process and leave behind, unless what his enemy was trying to get into his head with. The one thing he'd always been a stranger to in the field because it tended to get you and the people around you killed. Scott wasn’t being afraid, he couldn’t afford to be afraid, never had. But he had a dreadful hunch, this time his enemy might bring him a lot closer to that certain dangerous abyss inside than he'd thought it possible. The prospect alone almost had him throw up with that perverted gratefulness again when another scream tore from his lips because pointed, inches-long nails were digging right into that hole into his shoulder without as much as a warning.

"Always am, One-Eye. You should know that by now. That it's never personal. Might wanna remember a little sooner this time depending on how much you really love pain." Mystique pulled away again surprisingly quickly, probably sensing that the darkness had been threatening to cloud Scott's senses again already and apparently sick of waiting for him to come around again for the moment. "Now, how about we talk about whatever you people think you read in some data trash stolen from my living room?"

Somehow, Scott managed to let half a bitter grin curl on his lips. "20 years, you still don’t get, you're wasting your time."

"20 years, you still don’t get that if there's one thing I got enough of …" A flash of reshaping silver in the reflection on the opposite wall threatened to tighten Scott's throat again as blade turned into hook before he averted his gaze for the sake of his already compromised mental health which he had a feeling wouldn’t do him any good though. "… unlike you …" He only thought the renewed stab was the worst before the flesh-shaped new tool found whatever it had been looking for and ripped, the noise coming from him this time leaving copper in his mouth. "… it's time. Tell me, Summers, is this how you want to spend yours for the next few months or so?"

"Fuck you." There were some words, thankfully, that seldom failed even an increasingly damaged voice.

"Not my methods," Mystique reminded him with a brief grimace of honest disgust before she stared down at the dried-out but very much still living and especially feeling piece of tissue wrapped around her instrument. Giving it just the slightest tug was more than enough to tear Scott right back to that increasingly tempting-looking nothing of renewed passing out. "Doesn’t mean I can't make your life a living hell. Are you still doubting that?"

"Knock yourself out." The relief to hear his hoarse-turned voice already slurred and very far away, with senses that were closer to drifting off than reality, was very short-lived.

"Now, now, don’t be hasty." An injection of what at this stage must have been pure adrenaline on the side of his neck tore him back wide awake quickly enough to go through the renewed torture of no less than six staples pulling that damn entry wound close. The inches-long patch of tissue was still reaching out from between the halves of half-dead flesh that had been robbed of every capacity to mend and renew, like a sickening tail. Obviously satisfied with her work for the moment, Mystique got back in her chair and produced a phone from one of her flesh pockets in her thigh, unlocking it with a quiet hum on her lips. "Told you I'm in no hurry. How about you? How long until those losers on your team try another remarkably stupid stunt, sacrificing a couple of your people for you? You sure you want to lie around here, waiting for that unhappy occurrence?"

It was almost calming, finding while there wasn’t a lot of strength left in his voice five minutes in already, his words had lost nothing of the same. It would have been a shame if he'd run out so early of enough spite to let his enemy know how short-lived her little triumph would once more be. "I shouldn’t be the one between us praying they won't come, Darkholme. When you sign a declaration of war, you should be ready to see your people's blood in the street."

Mystique snorted, yellow pupils narrowing at Scott in a first hint of annoyance that was better than nothing, he supposed. "You really think between you and me, I'm the one who won’t do the sacrifice play?"

"You might find you're in for a surprise." Scott stared down coldly at what he had no way of knowing if it would ever be an even halfway functional limb again, no longer granting Mystique the satisfaction of avoiding the sight.

"That's alright." That leisurely, almost playful touch against his elbow again, this time in the shape of silver shining pliers. The defensive tension tightening Scott's spine only had Mystique's satisfied grin grow. "You see, One-Eye, the good thing about all this? I am taking pleasure in ripping you to pieces, no matter the outcome."

"You should probably find a new lover if that's the only thing you can get off on these days," Scott replied harshly.

The renewed agony from one of these staples after another pried from his skin elicited too many, too loud new screams to be entirely sure, but Scott was almost sure he could hear his tormentor husk something against his ear that sounded like "Oh, that’s the plan".

The next blackout came too quickly to wonder what the fuck she was talking about this time.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

If its not too much to ask, can I request yandere demoman peppering kisses and bites all along s/o's neck all while telling them to try to stay quiet.

Tw: dubious consent, hickies, voice control, pet names, gn reader, regret, yanderes, mentions of explosives, heated scene, smut adjacent

Demo knew all too well that you’d be coming to drop off essentials for the team and he refused to let this opportunity go to waste.

He convinced Soldier to wake everyone early to get a jump on the enemy team. A plan the man commended him for.

This mission was going to be foolproof. The night before demo had lain his traps about the playing field, going the extra mile as to bury some extra sensitive explosives on enemy turf. One the explosions started you’d be here with the parcels and everyone would be too busy dealing with one another to watch as Demon stealthed away.

And it worked.

You wandered the metallic halls, searching for a place to set the cart you were pushing. You’d pushed your luck this far by even being close to the field, but with all of the luggage you were carrying you worried you’d be caught toting the opposing teams objects.

The task has always been daunting, but today had you tripping over yourself.

The men had gotten a head start, meaning you forgot where the hell their rooms were. And the layouts of the two buildings were entirely different save the outside. It was stress enducing, and you’d never been more on edge in this job.

You’d nearly pissed yourself when a thick arm pulled you into its body. With a scream you attempted a turn.

“Ah, and here I thought you’d come to expect my greetings!” The man broadcasted loudly, pressing his rough cheek into you affectionately. You held a hand to your chest, attempting to stablize your oxygen intake.

“FUCK Tavish!” You exclaimed, still processing the fiasco with a lame expression. He shook you a bit as you eased into him, prattling on about how he’d missed you. You felt his hand come to your rib cage to keep you steady. And you welcomed it by placing your hand over his.

You held onto his arm, concentrating mainly on the softness that he held in his chest, allowing your back to completely relax under him.

As you leaned back he backed into a room. With how calm you were you didn’t even notice you were in a completely different space.

Eyes closed, humming with the sway of the man behind you.

The whole thing felt… right. So soft and intimate, you’d not taken a second to think about whether or not the two of you were anything at all.

You didn’t take into account, with how sweet and casually the man spoke to you, just how many times he’d actually seen you.

How he knew you down to such a minute detail- that he could rattle your own life back at you from behind.

And this comfort is the same reason you didn’t notice the soft kisses that started at your temple.

In fact, you didn’t notice until his beard tickled the hairs at the back of your neck that he was kissing you at all!

His lips freckled little kisses about your check, down to your jaw. Your chin with a tilt of your head.

Then he got under, pressing just a bit further.

You giggled, playfully pushing his head away.

He snickered a bit, dryly unbeknownst to you.

Then he continued, letting little words of praise slip loose as he continued to plant small, calculated kisses down your neck. Though you only hummed contentedly at the feeling.

Until- at the junction of your clavicle and neck he sucked lightly.

The pressure elicited a sweet moan of surprise from you. You felt heat quickly drop to your legs, and rise to adorn your face.

You raised a hand to rest on the top of his head, arching a just a bit at he licked a stripe up to your shoulder. Then the nipped at you.

You huffed a bit, a high pitched noise coming through your nose as it did. He nearly purred at the reaction. Doing it yet again as he allowed his hand to rest at your hip, the other one covered your stomach, pulling you into him.

You rose your head, giving him better access, chasing the feeling you got from this man who was little more than an acquaintance.

“Fuck Tavvvv.” You drew his name out, the sweet abrevative causing him to moan against you. His hands tensed where they where, and the one on your stomach came up to rest on your neck again.

“Shh love. I’d you want me to keep going you’ve gotta stay quiet.” You nodded for him.

“You’re gonna be good?”

“Yes sir- please.” He caved, continuing his process.

He worked his tongue over the fading mark of where he’d nipped you. Pressing it into you just a bit harder. Then he nipped again. You thrust your hips forward, an action that stirred some sick feeling of pride in Demo.

You covered your mouth, finally allowing yourself to open your eyes and keep watch of the doorway before you.

“Tavvy there’s no one here.” You whined out, hoping to coax him into letting you moan. He shook his head and kept sucking at your neck, making his way up to your ears.

“Don’t do it dear.” You whimpered just under a whisper, a sound kept entirely for Tavish to hear.

You wanted to give him all the praise he deserved there. You instead rubbed little hearts into the fabric of his shirt as he nipped and sucked on your ear.

Shivers of stimulation coursed through you. Allowing Demo to feel just how good this was to you.

Just then the announcers voice boomed through the entire feild, marking the thirty second time limit.

Demo cringed and let you if you ungracefully. You let out a gasp of shock, immediately patting down your outfit as men from Demos team ran through the building.

The look on his face was one of pure agitation, his palm slid down exaggeratedly. And he let himself groan and pick up his shooter.

As he passed you with a smile he gave you a note. Running ahead with little more than a word.

You stared at the note in complete bafflement of the situation you were just in.

Then the reality of the matter set in.

You checked the mirror in the nearest bathroom to confirm your suspicion.

Your neck looked like it been flung through a meteor field. It was nearly completely covered in dark splotches that stretched from the front of your neck, damn near to the back.

You covered your mouth in pure realization of what you’d done.

The man had damn near trapped you in that situation and you had let yourself be drawn in by the allure of affection. You wanted to gag from the disappointment and shock that you’d let that happen.

As you reminisced on where you went wrong Demo detonated the entire area the rival team stood in.

He looked more triumphant than he had in ages, and he ran around keeping a close eye on the affairs. A keen sense of accomplishment and love blooming inside of him.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 5 -- Eulogy Jones

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 5 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Collaring with Eulogy Jones x Clover

OKAY, so big disclaimer on this one, um... Yeah, Eulogy is a fucking awful person and I support literally nothing that he does or says in this game and in this writing here. Alright, now that that's established, this was actually super interesting to write, given that it's between him and Clover, rather than him and the reader/Lone/protagonist. It was also fun to write a little bit from both their perspectives and sort of explore the... pretty darn screwed up relationship they hint to having in-game.

But yeah, absolutely check out the TWs, cuz y'know... Eulogy is canonically a slaveowner/slaver and is awful and that's just his whole ass character. 🤷‍♀️

SPOILERS for the writing: there is a good-ish ending though, so it's not all awful, I promise.

Here is the link to the Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included and TWs: Collaring, very dubious consent (Clover wants it, but she's also a slave, so...), slavery, sexual slavery, manipulation, toxic relationships, Eulogy being the worst, oral sex/blow jobs, deepthroating/face fuck, a wee bit of two-sided violence/a physical struggle.

Words: 4.1k

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“Aw, don’t pout like that, babygirl, come on.” 

Eulogy could feel the way Clover’s breaths shook beneath the hand he had resting on her shoulder. 

“Let’s make this last night memorable, hm? Before you get to go off and belong to some lucky new guy.” 

His fingers dragged down one strap of her sheer little dress, the one they’d shown her off in when they introduced her to her potential buyer, per the man’s request. The stranger seemed nice enough– well, rich enough, and he’d been polite through the process, which was more than Eulogy could say for the many slave buyers he’s come across in his time at Paradise Falls. 

Clover could stand to devote herself to the new owner, of that he was certain, she would just need a bit of… convincing. Maybe a gentle reminder, of sorts. 

“Don’t need someone new!” She whipped around to face him, and Eulogy’s hand slipped from her skin. “Why're you giving me up, huh? Don’t you… don’t you like me?” 

Eulogy tutted at her sympathetically, bringing his hand back up to caress her wet cheek. 

“Of course, Clove, what’s not to love about you?” 

Already, she perked up at that, especially when he followed his words with that rare smile he had her convinced he'd reserved specifically for her. 

“Nah, baby, it’s just… He’ll be good for ya. Wild and free girl like yourself shouldn’t be cooped up here. He can give you adventure. He can be everything you need, that, I’m sure of. So long as you’re good to him too." Eulogy's hand gave her face a little attention-getting pat. "You will be good to your new owner, won’t you?”

Her lower lips still looked pouty, her eyes still a bit distant, like she wasn’t letting his words soak in. 

“Won’t you?” Eulogy prompted her, as his hand tightened its grip, a bit more painfully this time. 

“I guess," Clover relented, "B-but I don’t see, master, sir, why you won’t–”

“Shhh.” Both his hands reached out to pull her in close, forcing her head beneath his chin, his arms around her shoulders, while one hand stroked over her hair. 

“You remember your rule, Clover?” Eulogy whispered now. Not a soft, affectionate thing, not a way to soothe her or soften the blow of his rejection of her. It was cold, like the metal around her neck, like the air when the sun went down, like the frigid floor tiles she would rest upon on a night where she’d made a mistake. 

She only sniffled in his grasp, surely trying to quickly pull her emotions in, to steady herself, before Eulogy would have to do it for her. 

“When I ask you a question, babygirl, you…” 

If his voice was cold a moment ago, now it was dangerous. Pointed and glinting like a poised knife about to dig deep into someone’s skin. 

“I know, sir, I know. I answer.” 

His embrace grew constricting then, squeezing her shoulders like cruel iron clamps, until Clover’s arms might’ve popped out of their own sockets. 

“And I do! I remember the rule. I know I should say ‘yes,’ that I should be 'good for him.' I should listen to you. Always, I know… It’s just hard.” 

Eulogy’s pressure on her let up for a moment, as her arms wrapped about him with a similar intensity, keeping his body anchored to hers-- and with more affection than he could ever muster, she was sure.

“Just hard thinkin’ that I won’t be with you anymore.”

“Mm, I know. You’ve grown real attached to me, and baby… it’s been fun, don’t think I’m giving you away for free now. You’re my prize girl, after all.”

“R-really?”

Another sniffle left her, and Eulogy's hand gave a firm, definitive stroke over the top of her head, like he was rewarding a beast of burden rather than comforting a person he might care for.

“Oh yeah, baby. No one can compare.” 

“I knew it.” She whispered out, and felt Eulogy chuckle against her. It was a good sound, one she would try and hold onto, to commit to memory so she’d always have it, even when she was with her new… owner.

Who could own me but Eulogy, though? No one’s come close to being able to handle me like he has. None have appreciated me the way he has.

She felt close to tearing up again, as Eulogy ran his hands over her back in long, soothing circles, sensual in nature, but no less comforting in her eyes, in her blindly loyal heart. 

He coulda had anyone here. Any slave he wanted, just say the word, and they’re his. He chose me to be around him all the time, though. 

That's gotta be special, right?

“And what do you say, huh?" His voice was just that tinge deeper now, hinting to what she already knew he was thinking, from the moment he sat down beside her on the bed. "What about one last night between us.” 

It wasn’t a question. It never was. 

With her though, with his prize girl, Eulogy didn’t have to ask in order for her to do anything he pleased. 

Before Clover could voice a word, his stroking hands were tugging the straps of her dress down, until the loose fabric fell from her shoulders and chest completely and into a silken pile of fabric in her lap. 

“One last night.” Clover said quietly, like a breath. Like one she savored as though flavored with Nuka Cherry and the sweetest liqueur. 

“Atta girl.” 

With that, Eulogy adhered to their usual tradition, he released her from his grasp, opting to lay back on the giant, plush mattress with his head back on a soft pillow, propped up to watch Clover as she put her passion into motion.

Starting off with a strip tease of sorts, she stood at the foot of the bed, her hands loosely gripping the folded fabric of her dress, letting it drape over hips, but go no lower. She shimmied her chest a bit for him, in a way that noticeably sent warmth flowing straight to the base of Eulogy’s cock. Her hips swayed as if to a slow, undulating rhythm as she lidded her eyes at him, smiling with those vibrant lips, fixing him with that dark, sultry gaze. 

Like practiced clockwork, he felt himself grow hard for her almost instantaneously.

“Permission?” Clover asked, batting those long eyelashes and sweetening her voice until it sounded like a soothing music note. 

“How could I deny you?” Eulogy threw another grin at her, one he knew would melt her heart. 

He would miss playing her this way, like playing chess with a wild dog. His strategy versus her usual… unpredictability, and yet… somehow, he always seemed to win out. Even wild dogs, if shown a structured life, a meaningful life with an owner that was firm, that inspired undying loyalty and respect, that rewarded them and disciplined them in equal parts, with the proper severity that the situations called for, then they could become docile. Trainable, and predictable enough that he could even-- on special occasions-- trust them.

That was his Clover. The wildcard no one wanted to be dealt, and he took her into his hand and made a full fucking house. Won the lot with her.

That was why he was running the damn place. 

A smug look stayed etched in his expression as Clover released the dress from her hands, and let it billow to the floor. Once bare, and with his permission granted, she climbed up onto the mattress and right between his partially-spread legs. 

Her dark gaze stayed on him, as Clover ran her hands over his silk button-up, undoing the fastenings with well-practiced fingers as he looked on, committing to memory the way her body moved with her actions, savoring her lithe form, her toned arms and stomach, her small, but oh-so-sweet little breasts. 

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d miss her. Clover’s body would be in his mind and dreams for years to come, he was sure. Her personality though… That would stay firmly in his nightmares. 

It really was cruel, to put such an unruly mind, an unstable and dangerous personality in a physical form this desirable. Though, in a way, he supposed that was the girl’s saving grace. It’s what interested him in the first place, the gorgeous little spitfire that he wanted to make his, and now… Now that’s how her new owner came about. 

A man with too much money, taking one look at this fine piece of ass in a near-nude dress that was hardly short enough to cover the pretty curls between her legs, and thinking… 'I want her to be mine.' Maybe it would be the death of him, what with Clover’s clear affinity for mayhem, and for Eulogy and not this stranger, but who knows? With time, she could obsess over someone new, she could grow to love her new owner the way she did him, or, it would end differently…

No matter how it went though, it’s not really his problem anymore, is it?

That shit was a good feeling. 

Almost as good too, was the way her hands were running over his bare chest, pushing the opened shirt from his shoulders and tossing it off the bed before her lips competed for most covered ground. She kissed over his pecs, letting her warm, wet lips draw lines of fire across his sensitive nipples, down the center of his chest until she reached his naval, and then to the hem of his dress pants. 

Eulogy sat pretty as she worked, gleefully absorbing her worship of him, the way her mouth sang praises to his body through its touch, the way her hands grazed over that quickly-forming bulge in his pants before eagerly working to undo them. 

“Definitely gonna miss you, Clove.” Eulogy groaned as she released the pressure from his aching erection, pulling down his dress pants and underwear all at once with her long, fervent fingers. 

She paused though, at the sound of his words, her eyes fixing blankly to his stomach while her hands hovered over the fabric of his pants, where they remained hardly halfway down his thighs. 

“Don’t stop now, baby. We’re just getting to the good part.” Eulogy said quickly. 

He knew that look, that dissociative stare, that thin frown that meant she was about to do something… well, unpredictable. It was that look that ruled her when jealousy took its firm hold, that look just before she’d kill the one in front of her, that look before she’d throw all caution to the wind and destroy anything in her vicinity. 

He’d only managed to talk her down from that look a few times, and given their closeness just now… Yeah, he hoped this would be one of those times. 

“Won’t you love on me, Clove? For tonight, it's just us, okay? Just you and me.” His hand brushed her hair away, sweeping the strands from where they hung over her face, just before lightly grasping the swell of one cheek, cradling her face in his hold. 

“We can pretend it’ll always be this way…”

With that, his hand tightened its hold, and Eulogy pulled her up to face him. Her fogged-over eyes met his, finally, and Eulogy almost sighed as familiarly and fondness shone through her gaze. 

“We can.” Clover echoed, her voice quiet, soft, and then she took the bait and leaned in the last little bit. 

Eulogy poured every ounce of feeling that he could into her, kissing her lips like he was trying to devour them whole, pulling her into that reality where she could stay with him forever, where they could do this every night, where nothing existed but them. 

No new owner, no other slaves for him to give his attention to, no distractions from his work, no jealousy from Clover, no reason for it. 

It was a nice thought for him, sure, but to keep a leash on Clover�� It was a necessary picture to paint. 

Once she began to reciprocate with a familiar kind of fervor, that’s when Eulogy pulled away. 

Keep her wanting. Thinking how much she wants me, and those violent, accusatory musings of hers perhaps can be safely kept at bay. 

“What do you say, my sweet clover flower? Will you love me, like the day you pledged yourself to me?” 

Her eyes glistened as she looked to him, a distinct certainty to her action as she nodded, and Eulogy very nearly let his smugness show through. 

If there’s one thing I know about my Clover, it’s that I’m her weakness. 

His gaze remained on her as she slunk down the mattress, her movements smooth and lithe after so much practice, and settled herself between his legs. She drew them open wider, lovingly running her slightly calloused, manicured hands over the insides of his thighs until he complied. Doing just as she knew Eulogy liked, Clover kept her hands to her sides and her gaze firmly locked to his as she took the head of his straining cock into her warm, inviting mouth. 

Eulogy’s half-smile stayed plastered to his face, even as his dark brows creased together in his pleasure, as Clover began the sensual movements of her expert lips and tongue over his erection. His slave looked so divine with her plush lips wrapped around him, her cheeks hollowed, eyes hazy with her own burning need for him, for his approval and affection. 

It only made her more desirable. 

Crazy? Yes, but still, to Eulogy, no one could ever match Clover’s utter devotion to him, her worship of him like he was her creator because really, after so many years of belonging to him, of learning from his guidance, she really was his own, the product of his practices, his training, his wants, his life. 

Eulogy would miss her, maybe that bit was true, but it was her rash devotion to him, her ardent praise and complete focus on his pleasure, his attention over every other priority that exists in life– that, he knew he’d never find again. 

Alas, it made his job too difficult to devote himself only to one slave. Hell, if he wanted to be chained to any man or woman, he’d want that shit to– You know what? No. He wouldn’t want that. It wasn’t the way Eulogy Jones was meant to live his lavish lifestyle. 

Besides, who would train the finest slaves for the job, if not himself? 

The delicate process deserved attention no other slaver was willing to give, it requires precision, unshakeable discipline and more patience than he’s seen in any of his slavers. 

No, with Eulogy, there was a possibility they’d come out this nice. Sure, Clover’s background had helped a bit, and she still had her... quirks, but he did loads of work on her, and without him? She’d never be this glorious specimen of a girl.

Her devotion, he body, her mastery of the art of the tongue, of attraction, of pleasure incarnate... It wouldn't exist without him. She'd be nothing without him. Nothing but the nerves, the jealousy, the grimy, willful, half-starved girl she'd come to him as.

Now though, now Clover's well-practiced tongue stroked like an artist’s brush over the length of him, caressing his every vein, pressing masterfully into those sensitive points that she’d memorized in her thousand or so times she’d fallen to her knees before him. Her focus was on him completely, her will broken to obey his whim, no matter what it cost her.

She was a proper slave, and a part of him felt pride that another might know his mastery over her, that another could now appreciate the work he's put in, once she devoted herself to the new man.

Eulogy couldn’t hold back his groan, couldn’t keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head as Clover bobbed up and down, forward and back, sucking and licking and drooling until his cock became her whole entire world. 

His taste, that familiar mustiness that made her mouth water, his smell, of faint cologne and cigarette smoke– plus that distinct manliness that she’d once thought bitter and distasteful, that now she savored with every deep, vulgar swipe of her tongue; the sight of him though, the sounds he made in response to her loving efforts, Eulogy knew that’s what Clover craved most of all. 

Her pleading eyes told him, as hungry for his expression as her lips were for his cock. The way she shuddered too, at his every breath, every groan or sigh. No matter the sounds he uttered, goosebumps always rose upon her skin just after they left his lips. 

She was easy to read, easy to manipulate, easy to toy with and to punish when he pleased. 

But easy is becoming… tiresome. 

Eulogy knew this would be the change he needed, and Clover, well… It didn’t really matter what happened to her now. She was a completed task, a checked box that was sitting at the top of the page, just waiting for him to turn to a new one. 

It was time. 

One of Eulogy’s idle hands rose to the back of Clover’s head, grasping at the short strands of hair and tugging her downwards gruffly, until the head of his cock was stopped by the pressure of the tight collar cradling her neck. Clover grunted, her eyes watering as he jammed himself as far into her throat as could be managed, but she made no move at all to stop him. No, more than that, she encouraged his roughness with another swipe of her tongue, reaching close to the very base of his length as her throat struggled to force him down further, further than the steel around her neck would ever feasibly allow. 

It made him hum with satisfaction, the way her face grew red with a lack of oxygen and an abundance of frustration, how she always tried so hard for him. 

And looked damn fine doing it. 

He felt near to exploding down her throat, with the way the walls of her esophagus squeezed him, the way tears now streamed down her cheeks; the hot, wet feeling of being far enough inside to halt her breathing. 

The bliss was washing over him in waves, causing his hips to buck, his cock to swell further, his balls to suck up tighter to his body in preparation, and–

Then Clover stopped. 

Oh, he could discipline the ever-loving hell out of her for pulling away from him as suddenly and desperately as she did. 

“Master, please–” She choked out, her vocal chords scraping against each other like nails on sandpaper after the recent abuse to her throat. 

“Better have a good fucking reason for stopping.” Eulogy growled in that cold-as-steel voice that made her insides churn with fear and self-loathing. 

“I'm sorry, master, so sorry I pulled away, I didn't want to!" Her shining bottom lip quivered as her eyes flew to anywhere but him, shame written all across her expression as if with a dark-inked pen. "B-but, I wanted to ask a favor of you."

Now!? She’s doing this now… Fuck, maybe I won’t miss the bitch. 

He didn’t bother giving her any more of a go-ahead than his impatient look. His cock twitched visibly with want, seeming to agree with his mind’s frustration. 

“What if… just for now, just for our last wonderful night together, you… took the collar off?” 

Instantly, Eulogy’s expression soured further, and Clover raced to try and remedy his obvious displeasure.

Her hands stroked soothingly over his thighs, her cute little lip pouted and her wet eyes shone with earnest desire. 

“Please, master! J-just so I can take you how you deserve! That’s all I want, my love, my Eulogy, my world.” She was on the verge of sobbing now, and Eulogy felt his eyes beginning to roll with annoyance. 

“Clove, babe, that’s not how I roll. How any of this rolls, you know this. I really have to remind you on your last day not to speak out of turn? Come on.” His head shook, and he felt the panic radiating off of her, felt the way her hands trembled where they clung to his skin. 

“Please, master, I’m begging you, I want–” She sniffed as a tear fell down her face, “I want all of you, my love, my life, I want as much of you as I can take tonight, and I want it everywhere. To remember you-- how you feel in me, always. I need it, or I’ll– I might just–”

“Okay, fucking hell, alright. I’ll take the damn thing off, but Clover," A hand grasped tightly to that tender place between her neck and shoulder, "You try anything, and we’ll stop this night in its tracks.” 

Clover perked up instantly as he gave way, nodding enthusiastically to every word he uttered.

“You listening, slave? Anything at all and I’ll tie you to that column over there and fuck every other slave in Paradise Falls with your eyes held open with pins, you hear me? You wanna see that?” 

“No, no, master, love, I’d never disobey you. Not now, not tonight. I couldn’t.” 

Eulogy hummed in approval. He actually believed her, strange as it was. Clover wouldn’t sour their last night together. Not when he was her everything, as she often put it.

With that, both his hands reached upwards, easily finding the little keypad hidden in the– seemingly immovable– metal creases of her deadly collar, and expertly, he entered in his code. He’d never used it before now, and knew, he'd never use it again. 

It was only good once, and then it had to be changed. He designed them that way himself so that, if the codes were ever entered wrong-- perhaps by another slave who'd managed to see the number entered in-- the collars would do what they did best, and blow it’s wearer to bits... Or shock them to unconsciousness, depending on the value of the slave. 

It was an ingenious system, and yet… He was risking its failure for– for what? For Clover to keep sucking his cock? For her to deepthroat him barely an inch further? 

He could’ve maybe just loosened the damn thing, but… 

Fuck, it was too late for even that. 

As soon as the telltale click of the collar sounded in her ears, Clover was moving. Her haste was damn-near inhuman as she wrenched away from Eulogy's firm grasp, one hand automatically reaching downwards, clawing at the over-sensitive skin of his erect cock, whilst the other swiftly pinned him down into the mattress by his throat. 

Not even a scream could leave him, as Eulogy’s windpipe was all but crushed beneath the forceful weight of the collar holding him down. His vision blurred, his body writhed, and immense, spine-numbing pain erupted from his most vulnerable place as Clover attacked with a ferocity that rivaled her recently uninhibited devotion. 

“I couldn’t.” She growled, her voice like the shriek of a feral ghoul, “I couldn’t let you leave me, couldn’t be owned again, goddammit. Not by you? Not by anyone.” 

Their bodies writhed on the mattress, its springs creaking and protesting below as they wrestled for dominance. Limbs were flying, fingernails clawing, his hands were reaching for anything he could grasp at– her throat, her eyes, her nipples, anything that could cause enough pain to let him win the upper hand, but Clover’s hate was greater. Her savage, desperate violence turned her inhuman, infused her expression with a deathclaw's natural animosity, as she snarled and hissed and cursed Eulogy to hell and back, until finally, her fingers managed to clasp the metal of the collar firmly around his neck. 

And they both heard it click into place.

Eulogy froze then, knowing she’d just as soon blow them both to a hell worse than this one, at any more sign of struggle. 

What the fuck have I done?

He hardly had time to think. Sweat was pouring from his body in rivers, his veins were bulging out of his skin, his breath heaving laboriously as she stayed straddled overtop him, a wild, reckless gleam to her eyes that screamed hatred that he never imagined could be directed at him. 

“C-Clove, babe--” 

“Shut your goddamn mouth, slave." She snarled the words from between her teeth like a savage beast, "Shut it and fucking listen to me. For once in your awful, horrendous, fucking despicable life, you’re going to listen to what someone else has to say, you hear me?” 

Eulogy’s eyes screamed malice and disbelief, but as the collar’s foreboding beep told him the combination had changed, as he felt it automatically fit to the thickness of his neck, as he felt the cold, cruel, imprisoning discomfort of the heavy thing settle into his very being, he shut his mouth, and did as Clover said.

[mumblesplash]

prologue…

2!!!

J hears the shot go off above her. Hears O-piece suck in her breath.

"Fuck," L says somewhere to J's right, somewhere in the washroom the three of them just cleared.

A gentle gurgling echoes in her ears. J, blindfolded in the Hold, could tell herself it was just the sound of temperamental plumbing. She doesn't.

The hem of her shirt is damp from the blood of one of Z's alternates, and her fingers still thrum with the memory of the blade that spilled it.

When the Boss holds onto J-piece, she's always given a blindfold. Today it's a metal mask locked onto the top half of her face. Her head bows under its weight, but at least the rest of her bonds are light this time. The bars that appeared around her have left her space to move a bit. Her hands are merely cuffed in front of her.

The Boss must be almost over that fuck-up from last month.

And the fuck-up currently happening is not her doing.

"I's gone off-script again?" O says, his tone sharp but unsurprised.

"He must've spotted something up front," L responds. Hearing her, J-prime can picture the exact crease in her brow—the way her lips purse as she switches into damage-control mode.

"He won't have sightlines into the club from up there," says O. "J counted four alternates on the dance floor and one behind the bar. No pairs yet, but it's only a matter of time."

If it were anyone else presuming to speak for her, J would hate it. Even though she hates drawing attention to herself when Held even more. It's the sort of thing I-prime does all the damn time, and justifies himself with "If you didn't want me to say something for you, you should have spoken up sooner."

It's O-piece talking, though. And it's L he's speaking to. So she's alright.

"Someone needs to cover the front," J-piece says. She keeps her voice low, casual. She's pretending they're back in the office, by the vent next to the water cooler. Her shackled hands pull a cigarette from one pocket and her matchbook from another.

"You guys go handle it—I'll be safe."

It's true. Nothing native to this dimension can touch her within the grip of the Hold.

J places the cigarette between her lips and and struggles for the light—

Then a pair of warm, wide hands close around her own.

"Allow me," O says.

J smiles. Relinquishes the matchbox. Hears the strike—feels the flame come in close. Breathes in warm toxicity and the sweetness of O's scent.

She looks up as she exhales, to keep the smoke from O's eyes.

"Thanks, bud," J says.

Another hand brushes J-piece's shoulder—a gentle warning—before cupping the side of her face. This hand is slim, with perfectly rounded nails and a pinky ring.

J doesn't need those details to know that hand belongs to L. Only L-piece touches her like that.

L plucks the cigarette from J's mouth. There's a sharp drag, a slow exhale. J parts her lips wordlessly, and L returns the cigarette.

"We'll handle the set up this time," L says. "See you soon."

"We should hurry," O adds. "Those alternates are gonna be on the move now that I's kicked the hornet's nest. I'd hate to lose this world, it's got a pretty good funk scene."

J starts to agree—

But the shattering of glass and the howl of rending metal swallows all further discussion.

"That's—" J says.

"S and Z," O sighs.

"We gotta run!" says L.

And so they do, and J is left alone and blind with her tiny roll of warmth—too slight to even be called a flame.

And she could easily drown in the unfairness of it all, were she not a fucking professional.

It's time to go to work.

The fabric of reality above J's head splits like cracking eyes. A knife falls from the space between the worlds and catches itself, hovering. Another knife follows the first. And another. And another—

alright here's the rundown. more detailed version coming soon probably. the things i do for you guys

(transcript of prologue below the cut)

It's a lavender sky this time, this world. A lavender sky deepening to aubergine over a city of neon and brass. It's beautiful in it's way, just like any other city on any other world.

I-prime hasn't bothered to learn its name.

He stands in the hotel window, watching the burnished streets below gleam with fading light. The rhythmic thrum beneath his feet signals the rousing of the club below. They're playing a song that I has never heard in his life, yet part of him remembers it all the same.

The blank-faced watch on his wrist chimes a single long tone. I-piece taps its face without taking his eyes off the path into the nightclub.

"Hello, T."

"You're not in position," T says through the speaker. Their voice betrays none of the frustration that I knows he must feel.

"I'm where I need to be," I-prime says.

"We talked about this—"

"Yes, you talked, that's what you do. I make decisions."

T-piece's response is cut off by further chimes from the watch. Short, long, short, short—then the voice of L comes through.

"There's no time," she says. "The Boss just Held onto J. It's on, it's now."

"As expected," says I.

With a snap of his fingers the air before him splits. I-prime reaches into the crack between two universes and retrieves his sniper rifle. He looks down its sights, out the window, down the gleaming street.

Someone approaches the door to the club. A tall, svelt man with a face that I-prime is so sick of seeing other people wear.

I wonder what this one's named, I-prime muses as he lines up the shot.

Izaak? Ignacius? Indigo?

As he pulls the trigger on himself from another life, I-prime knows it doesn't matter what this alternate is called.

He lost track of their names a long time ago.