#I HOPE THEY EXPLODE AND RADIATION HITS ME

[dolphitos]

"我可以永远凝视你的艺术"

Thank you @pittdpeaches for ruining my mental health /jk. My heart went crazy on the last chapter and I went INSANE so I decided to finish once for all this drawing I have since september and never finished cuz of high school. Also that imma try to make more fanart of GAOCB, beware.

Fic:

also silly Mk sketch that's on Red's hair

[diazsdimples]

Hiiii James 💕💕💕💕

buddie + Why are you even here?

-❤️🪐

Hi Saturn!! I hope this is what you were looking for!

"Why are you even here?"

Eddie flinches at the ice in Buck's tone. It's not like he's never heard Buck angry before - there's been plenty of times where Buck's anger has been displayed, but always directed towards others. Never at him.

Eddie licks his lips and wills his mouth to work. It's hot out here, hotter than the hallway in Buck's apartment usually is. Eddie dimly wonders if he's coming down with a fever.

"Can- can I come in?" he asks tentatively. He clutches at his fingers, twisting them together in a way that's uncomfortable enough that it gives him something else to focus on besides the way his heart is thundering in his chest.

Buck stares at him, eyes dark and unreadable, his body language radiating an energy that makes Eddie's stomach twist into knots. He's got one foot braced in the door, leaning against the door jamb. Eddie feels trapped in the doorway, like a rabbit caught in a snare, waiting for the final blow to kill it.

He thinks Buck is going to say no, and honestly, Eddie wouldn't blame him. He's the last person Buck probably wants to see.

Except then, Buck steps aside, allowing Eddie to shuffle his way into the apartment. He shuts the door behind Eddie and the click of the lock engaging is louder than a gunshot in the otherwise silent apartment.

"I-"

Eddie stops, unsure of how to go about saying everything that he wants to. He's got no clue where to start, or if Buck even wants him to talk. Eddie just knows he needs to apologize, and explain, and beg for forgiveness if that's what it takes to get Buck back in his life.

Buck leans against the kitchen island and raises his eyebrows. He's waiting, waiting to see if Eddie will grovel, get down on his knees and plead Buck to forgive him. And he would, too. He's not beyond doing anything if it means he gets his Buck back.

But he hurt him. Eddie hurt Buck with his words, and he doesn't know how Buck could ever forgive him for it. He wanted to take them back the moment they'd left his mouth, hanging in the air like a poisonous gas. He'd watched Buck's face crumple, the light leave his body, and Eddie felt like he was going to throw up because it was him that did that to Buck.

"I was hoping we could talk," he finally manages. Buck drops his head and lets out a dry, derisive chuckle, and Eddie feels like all the air has been sucked from his lungs.

"What more is there to say?" Buck demands. "You were pretty clear earlier."

"I wasn't - I didn't - please, if you'd just let me explain-"

"Why? There's nothing to explain, Eddie, why should I listen to-"

"Because I love you!"

It's bursting from him before he can stop it, exploding from his chest with all the force of a tsunami, the words crashing through the space between them, and Buck recoils as though he's been physically hit.

"You - what?"

Eddie runs a hand through his hair, clutching at the strands and pulling. The gentle sting is enough to centre him, to give him a moment to focus and breathe, and figure out what the fuck he's going to say next.

"I love you, Buck," he repeats. "A-and I know what I said earlier. I panicked. I've never - I haven't ever, you know, been with a man or even considered that as a possibility before you, and I've spent years trying to convince myself that you didn't want me. That I wasn't good enough for you, or that I was too broken for you."

Buck lets out a wounded noise in the back of his throat at that, and Eddie can see tears threatening to spill over. His own throat is tight, making his voice high and constricted, but he presses on. He needs Buck to hear this. Tentatively, he takes a step forward, slowly closing the gap between them.

"A-and then you asked me out, and I was so scared, Buck! Because what if we tried this and you realised that I wasn't right for you, or my relationship trauma was too much for you, or something happened and we broke up. Because I can't lose you, Buck. You and Chris - you're everything to me. I can't live a life without you by my side, as my best friend or as my partner. So you asked me out and I - I panicked. I said no because I didn't want to fuck this up with you and then lose you. And I thought - I thought that maybe I could live with you angry at me but still my friend more than I could live knowing what it would be like to have you, but to never experience it again."

It's silent now. Buck stares at him with wide, glistening eyes, and Eddie feels like his skin is crawling with nerves. He's laid himself bare here, in front of Buck, bared his soul and his love and every deep, intimate part of him he'd hoped to hide, and now all he can do is hope that it was enough. That he wasn't too late.

Buck lets out a shuddering breath, and his shoulders slump. He looks exhausted, and Eddie wants nothing more than to reach out and hold him. But he can't. Not until Buck says something, and Eddie can find out if this is fixable or if he's already lost the most important person in his life.

"Eds," Buck sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're the biggest self-sacrificing idiot on the planet, you know that?"

"Yeah," Eddie laughs wetly, "so I've been told."

Buck takes a step towards him, and then another, until there's barely a foot between them. He can feel Buck's breath ghosting over his face, and there's something in his eyes that Eddie can't quite pick out. But he doesn't look angry. He looks... sad? Hopeful, maybe.

"You're more than enough for me," Buck whispers, reaching out to cup Eddie's face. Eddie sighs shakily as Buck's thumb strokes over his cheekbone, and he leans into the touch, his throat tightening as he fights back tears of his own.

"You always have been. And you would never lose me. I-I'm not going anywhere, Eddie. Because I love you too. I have done for years. You and Chris, you're my family. My life. So I would never let anything happen that would jeopardise that. Sure, we might have fights. It might be messy, b-but that's what relationships are, right? So we - we'd work it out together. "

Buck crooks a finger under Eddie's chin and tilts his head up, forcing eye contact. His thumb brushes over Eddie's lower lip, and Eddie lets out a shuddery breath.

"If - if you really don't want to, if you think we'd be better off as friends that's fine, I just -"

"No!" Eddie cuts in. It takes him by surprise but he's damned if he's going to fuck this up again. "No, I don't want that. I'm sorry I said I did, I'm sorry that I hurt you. I want you, Buck. Fuck, I need you."

Buck's hand slips from Eddie's chin and curves around the back of his neck, pulling him close until their foreheads rest against each other.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie, you can't just say things like that." His other hand comes up to cup Eddie's jaw, stroking over the days worth of stubble he's grown. "Can I - can I kiss you? Please?"

Eddie nods frantically, unable to get any words out past the lump in his throat, and then Buck is kissing him, his lips sliding against Eddie's and oh.

Oh.

The world tilts on its axis, spinning rapidly around him as everything he's ever known or believed crumbles, only to be rebuilt anew. It's just Buck's lips against his own, nothing more, and yet it feels like the whole universe is crashing into place. Like his entire life, everything he's gone through, the struggles, the pain, the loss, has led him to this exact moment.

The hand at the back of his neck slips up and tangles in his hair, holding him firmly in place, and Eddie lets out a quiet whimper, the sound swallowed up by Buck's mouth against his.

And then Buck pulls away, and Eddie's eyes snap open, a whine catching in his throat, until he sees the look on Buck's face. It's full of love and adoration and awe, and it takes Eddie's breath away.

"We're okay?" he breathes, and Buck nods, his bottom lip trembling. "I-I'm so sorry I hurt you, Buck. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course, Eddie. I will always forgive you, no matter what," Buck assures him.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"Please."

Eddie was such an idiot if he ever thought he could live without this. His best friend, his Buck, by his side forever. Because this is where they belong. They were made to be together, and this solidifies it. He will never let Buck go again. Not as long as they both live.

[lila-lou]

✨ His second exception - Pt. 6/? ✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Ben being hurt, Reader being hurt, soft Ben, sad Ben, Ben loosing his shit

Word Count: 7171

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 6 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As two weeks passed, you still didn’t feel ready. At home, Ben was still nice to you, trying his best to seem patient, but at work, the team had to deal with the grumpiest Ben ever. Not only had you denied him trying for another baby, but after so many weeks without intimacy, he was barely holding it together. The last two days, just seeing you bite your lip in thought was to make him hard, even in meetings. Just like right now.

Ben gripped the armrests of his chair so hard, his knuckles turned white. He tried to focus on Butcher’s report about tracking down the supe who helped Homelander, but his gaze kept drifting to you.

You were engrossed in the meeting, your brow furrowed in concentration. Ben admired the way your hair fell across your face, the way your lips moved when you were deep in thought. His frustration and desire simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.

Ben’s focus was entirely on you, and he didn’t register Butcher’s words at first. Butcher, growing increasingly frustrated, finally snapped.

“Oi, Soldier Boy, can you stop eyefucking her and start paying attention?”, Butcher’s voice was sharp and irritated, cutting through the tension in the room.

Ben’s eyes snapped to Butcher, his jaw tightening. “What did you just say?”, he growled, his annoyance bubbling to the surface.

Butcher crossed his arms, unperturbed by Ben’s glare. “You heard me. We need you focused. This isn’t the time for distractions”.

Ben’s grip on the armrests tightened further, the leather creaking under the pressure. He took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “Fine”, he muttered through gritted teeth. “Fucking continue then”.

Butcher shot him a warning look before turning back to the rest of the team, resuming his report. “As I was saying, we’ve tracked down the supes who helped Homelander. They’re holed up in a compound just outside the city. We’ll need to move fast and hit hard”.

You could feel the tension radiating off Ben, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on the meeting. You glanced at him, biting your lip nervously, and saw the raw frustration in his eyes. It was a reminder of the strain your relationship was under, and you felt a pang of guilt.

Butcher continued outlining the plan, detailing the roles each team member would play. Ben, still visibly tense, tried to pay attention, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you.

Frenchie eyed the two of you, sensing the tension radiating from Ben. He couldn’t help but grin slightly, though he tried to hide it. The situation was awkward, and the underlying issues between you and Ben were evident to everyone in the room.

As Butcher continued, Frenchie leaned over to MM and whispered, “Mon ami, it looks like Soldier Boy might explode any second now”.

MM glanced at Ben and then at you, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I noticed. Let’s hope he keeps it together long enough to get through this mission”.

Butcher wrapped up the briefing, emphasizing the urgency and danger of the mission ahead. “Alright, everyone, be ready to move out. No room for mistakes”.

As everyone stood up, Butcher cast a sardonic glance towards Ben. “So, you gonna bow down and join us for this mission?”, he asked sarcastically, a smirk playing on his lips.

Ben rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by Butcher’s tone. He shot you a brief glance, his frustration evident but masked by a steely resolve. “Yeah, yeah, I’m in”, he muttered, nodding towards Butcher as he rose from his seat.

Butcher’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push further. “Good. Just try to keep your head in the game, mate. We need everyone at their best”.

Ben clenched his jaw, suppressing a retort. He knew Butcher was right, even if the way he said it grated on his nerves. He turned to you, his eyes softening for a moment. “We’ll talk later”, he said quietly, his hand brushing yours briefly before he walked out of the room.

As the team dispersed, Frenchie approached you, a knowing smile on his face. “Tough day, eh?”, he remarked, his tone light but sympathetic.

You sighed, nodding. “You could say that. It’s just…complicated”.

Frenchie, sensing there was more to the story, dug a little deeper. “You wanna tell me why Soldier Boy is a ticking time bomb right now?”, he asked, his tone still light but with genuine curiosity.

You sighed, trying to find the right words. “It’s a bit complicated, Frenchie. Things have been…strained between us”.

Frenchie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Complicated how?”, he asked, leaning in slightly.

You hesitated, not sure how much to share. “We’ve been dealing with a lot of personal stuff. It’s not just about the missions. It’s…everything”.

Frenchie gave you a knowing look, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well, you know, a nice blow job and a sweet pussy always ease a man off”, he said with a chuckle, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his bluntness and elbowed him lightly in the stomach. Frenchie let out a playful grunt, rubbing the spot where you had jabbed him.

“Hey, just trying to hel,,” he said with a grin, but before you could respond, MM came back into the room, looking slightly annoyed.

“What the hell is taking you so long, Frenchie?”, MM snapped, crossing his arms.

Frenchie raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just having a chat with our friend here”, he replied innocently, casting a glance at you.

MM rolled his eyes and gestured for Frenchie to follow him. “Well, hurry up. We’ve got work to do”.

Frenchie gave you a wink before turning to follow MM out of the room. “Catch you later”, he said over his shoulder.

You waited for what felt like an eternity at the tower, diligently doing your work, but Ben and the team didn’t show up. Eventually, you decided to head back home, texting Ben that you would wait for him there. After a long, relaxing bath, you made dinner, hoping that he would walk through the door any moment. But as the minutes ticked by, Ben still wasn’t home and hadn’t texted you back.

Worried, you picked up the phone and called Annie, hoping to get some information about the mission. She answered on the second ring.

“Hey, what’s up?”, Annie asked, her tone light and friendly.

“Hey, Annie. I was just wondering if the mission is done. Have you seen Ben?”, you asked, trying to keep your voice casual.

Annie hesitated for a moment before replying, “Yeah, the mission wrapped up about two hours ago. Ben should have been home by now”.

Your heart sank at her words. “Thanks, Annie. I appreciate it”.

“No problem. If you need anything, just let me know”, she said before hanging up.

You put down the phone, your worry turning into frustration and concern. Where could he be? You finished cooking dinner, hoping that he would walk through the door soon, but as the hours passed, there was still no sign of him.

Eventually, you sat down on the couch, your mind racing with possibilities. You tried to keep calm, but the uncertainty was eating at you. You grabbed your phone again, staring at Ben’s number, debating whether to call him. Just as you were about to hit the call button, you heard the front door open.

Ben walked in, looking exhausted and disheveled. Relief washed over you, quickly followed by a surge of anger.

“Where have you been?”, you demanded, standing up and crossing your arms.

Ben raised an eyebrow at your tone, his expression darkening. “Come again?”, he said, his voice low and threatening. The undercurrent of tension was palpable, signaling that he wasn’t in the mood for confrontation and didn’t appreciate your disrespectful tone.

But you weren’t backing down. The worry and frustration that had built up all evening surged to the forefront. “I said, where have you been?”, you repeated, your voice firmer. “I’ve been worried sick, Ben. The least you could have done is texted me”.

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “I needed some time alone. Do I need to fucking ask for permission now?”.

“No, you don’t need permission. But I deserve to know if you’re okay, especially after a mission. We’re supposed to be a team, Ben. You can’t just disappear without a word”.

Ben’s jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. A lot of words hung on his tongue right now, each one worse than the other as he watched you. You had been testing his patience for weeks, and now here you were, causing a scene and muttering about being a team when everything you had done over the last weeks seemed to exclude him and his feelings.

“You want to talk about being a team?”, he growled, his voice barely controlled. “Where was the teamwork when you shut me out for the past weeks? When you acted like I wasn’t going through this too?”.

Your eyes widened, the harshness of his words hitting you hard. “Ben, I wasn’t trying to shut you out. I’ve been struggling to cope with everything that happened.. I thought..we talked about that already”, you said, your voice wavering.

He scoffed, taking another step closer. “And you think I haven’t? You think it’s been easy for me to watch you pull away, to feel helpless while you push me out of your life? I needed you too, but you were too wrapped up in your own pain to notice”.

Tears welled up in your eyes, the guilt and frustration overwhelming. “I didn’t mean to, Ben. I’ve been trying to deal with it all, but it’s been so hard”.

Ben’s anger boiled over, his voice rising to a yell. “Don’t you dare start crying now!”, he shouted, his frustration and hurt pouring out. “I’ve given you everything! I’ve done everything for you, tried to change, become a better person for you, and what do I get in return? Fucking nothing!”.

You flinched at his words, the sheer intensity of his emotion crashing over you like a wave. The tears that had welled up in your eyes spilled over, but you tried to hold yourself together. “Ben, please”, you pleaded, your voice trembling. “I never meant to make you feel this way. I’m just so lost right now”.

Ben’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. “And you think I’m not? You think this hasn’t torn me apart too? Every day, I wake up hoping things will get better, that you’ll let me in, but you keep pushing me away!”.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to reach him. “Ben, I know you’re hurting too, and I’m so sorry for shutting you out. I’ve been drowning in my own grief, and I didn’t know how to let you in”.

His eyes blazed with pain and frustration as he snapped, “It was my baby too! It was all I ever wanted, you and a bunch of kids. Losing our baby was just as bad for me as it was for you, but drowning in grief and living in a shell isn’t the right way to deal with it”.

You could see the raw emotion in his eyes, and it broke your heart. “I’m sorry, Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling.

He shook his head, his frustration evident. “Two weeks ago, you were so close to letting me back in, but these last two weeks, you’ve been retreating into your shell again. I can’t fucking take it anymore”.

Tears kept streaming down your face, but Ben’s anger was too strong to soften like he always did when you cried. His frustration had reached a boiling point, and he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Every time I try to be there for you, to pull you out of that dark place, you just retreat further”, he continued, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ve tried to be patient, to give you space, but it feels like I’m the only one fighting for us!”.

You choked back a sob, struggling to find the right words. “I know, Ben. I know I’ve been shutting you out, but it’s not because I don’t love you. I do. I’m just so scared of losing you, of losing everything again”.

His expression softened just a fraction, but his anger was still palpable. “You’re not going to lose me”, he said through gritted teeth. “But if you keep pushing me away, you’re going to make that fear a reality”.

You reached out, grabbing his hands despite their clenched state. “I don’t want that”, you pleaded.

He looked down at your hands, your touch grounding him, but his eyes remained fierce. “Then stop fucking running away from me. Stop shutting me out. Let me in, completely”.

You nodded, your tears still falling.

It took a while before Ben finally gave in. His heavy sigh echoed in the room, a release of some of the pent-up frustration and pain he had been holding onto. Slowly, he laid his arms around your smaller frame, pulling you close and pressing you against him.

You felt his body relax slightly as he held you, the tension between you starting to ease just a bit. The warmth of his embrace provided a small measure of comfort, and you buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Ben”, you whispered, your voice muffled against him. “I’ll do better. I promise”.

He rested his chin on the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. “I just want us to be okay”, he said softly, the anger in his voice replaced by a deep, weary sadness.

You swallowed hard, sniffing against his chest. You stood like that for a while, the weight of your emotions finally starting to lift. After a few moments, Ben loosened his grip around you, pulling back slightly.

“I need to shower”, he mumbled, his voice still heavy with the remnants of his earlier frustration.

It was only then that you truly noticed the state he was in. His suit was covered in blood, and even his face had smudges of it. You hadn’t realized how intense the mission had been, too caught up in your own worry and the confrontation between you.

“Ben, you’re covered in blood”, you said softly, your eyes wide with concern.

He nodded, his expression weary. “Yeah, it was a rough one. I didn’t want to bring it up before”.

You reached out, gently touching his arm. “Go shower. I’ll get dinner ready”.

Ben walked away towards the bathroom, and you made your way back to the kitchen where you had stopped preparing food earlier. As you resumed your task, the weight of Ben’s words hung heavily in your mind. The lasagna was soon in the oven, and you found yourself staring at the oven door, lost in thought.

Seeing Ben so vulnerable and hurt broke your heart. You knew he was suffering too after what happened to your baby, but you hadn’t fully grasped the extent of his pain until now. The realization that he didn’t know what to do anymore was overwhelming. You had been so wrapped up in your own grief that you hadn’t considered how deeply it was affecting him.

You knew you had been pretty selfish, and guilt gnawed at you. Ben had been trying so hard to hold everything together, to be strong for both of you, and you had been pushing him away. You realized that if you didn’t start to push yourself to heal, for his sake and for the sake of your relationship, you might lose him.

Taking a deep breath, you resolved to be more present, to let Ben in, and to work through your grief together. It wouldn’t be easy, but you loved him too much to let this pain tear you apart.

When the lasagna was done, you set the table, the normalcy of the routine offering a small comfort. As you heard the bathroom door open, you turned to see Ben entering the kitchen, dressed in fresh clothes, looking slightly more at ease.

“Dinner’s ready”, you said, offering him a small smile.

He returned the smile, though it was tinged with weariness. “Smells good”, he said, taking a seat at the table.

You served the lasagna, and for a few moments, the silence was filled with the clinking of cutlery and the warmth of the shared meal. After a while, you gathered your courage to speak.

You sat on the chair cross-legged, idly pinching at your lasagna with your fork. The weight of the moment pressed on you, making your heart race. Finally, with a deep breath, you gathered your courage.

“Ben”, you began hesitantly, your voice shaking slightly. “I was thinking… maybe we could try again tonight”.

Ben paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and concern. “You mean… sex?”, he asked, his voice cautious.

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat.

Ben nearly choked, a torrent of emotions running through him. His gaze was intense, making you blush under its weight. He set his fork down, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Listen”, he began, his voice rough with emotion. “My outburst earlier… it wasn’t just about the missing sex. Sure, that’s a part of it, but it’s more than that. It’s about feeling disconnected, about us not being us”.

You nodded, your throat tightening. “I know that, Ben”, you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But still, I want to try. I know it’s about time”.

He leaned back slightly, studying you. His eyes softened, filled with a mix of hope and hesitation. “Are you sure?”, he asked, his voice tender. “I don’t want you to push yourself to that just for my sake”.

“I’m sure”, you replied, though your heart pounded in your chest.

Ben eyed you skeptically, a flicker of uncertainty still in his eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to lighten the mood with a hint of his usual humor. “You know, if we’re doing this, I might need to remind you where everything goes”, he said with a small smirk, his attempt at a dirty joke making the tension in the room shift slightly.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a mix of amusement and embarrassment washing over you. “Ben, seriously”, you said, trying to keep a straight face but failing. “I’m sure. I want to do this. For us”.

His smirk softened into a genuine smile, though his eyes remained earnest. “Alright”.

Ben continued eating, though his eyes lingered on you, filled with a mix of hope and longing. The rest of the dinner passed in quiet contemplation, each of you lost in your own thoughts. When he finished his food, you began cleaning the dishes while Ben poured two glasses of whiskey.

Without a word, he approached you from behind, his movements slow and deliberate. As you dried your hands, you felt his presence close behind you, the warmth of his body radiating through the thin fabric of your shirt. He held one glass in front of your face, his arm brushing against yours.

“Here”, he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

You took the glass from him, your fingers brushing against his. The simple touch sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the connection you shared. You turned slightly, your back still to him, and took a sip of the whiskey, the warmth of the liquor spreading through your chest.

Ben leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You ready?”, he asked softly, his voice a mix of concern and anticipation.

You nodded, feeling a rush of nervous excitement. “Yes”, you whispered, your voice steady.

He took your hand, guiding you back to the bedroom. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, every movement deliberate and filled with meaning. He set his glass down on the nightstand and helped you do the same.

Ben’s hands moved to your waist, his touch gentle but firm. He turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. Seeing none, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

The kiss deepened, his tongue slowly moving into your mouth as his hands wandered to the hem of your shirt. He lifted the fabric gently, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it aside. His hands caressed your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Ben’s touch was careful, reverent, as if he was rediscovering you for the first time. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, moving up to your ribs and finally resting on your breasts. He paused, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded slightly, giving him the reassurance he needed. He leaned in again, his lips finding yours in another deep, passionate kiss. His hands continued their exploration, his touch igniting a fire within you that had been dormant for too long.

You carefully pulled off Ben’s shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you revealed his toned chest. You bit your tongue in concentration, your eyes taking in the sight of his muscles tensing under your touch. His skin was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room.

Ben watched you with a mix of tenderness and desire, his hands resuming their exploration of your body. He cupped your breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. The sound seemed to ignite something in him, his kisses growing more fervent as he trailed them down your neck.

His hands continued to move, tracing the curves of your body with a touch that was both familiar and thrillingly new. You felt a rush of warmth between your thighs, a longing that had been buried beneath layers of grief and fear now coming to the surface.

As his kisses reached your collarbone, you let out a shaky breath, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of need and uncertainty.

He paused, lifting his head to look at you, his eyes dark with desire but softened by a deep, abiding love. “Are you okay?”, he asked, his voice husky but gentle.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “Yes”, you whispered. “I want this. I want you”.

Ben’s lips curved into a small, cocky smile as he whispered, “You’ll get everything you want”.

With a tender strength, he gently lifted you up, placing you on the bed. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment of closeness. He hovered above you, his body a protective presence, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race even faster.

“You’re so fucking beautiful”, he murmured. He lowered himself slowly, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both passionate and gentle. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

As he deepened the kiss, his other hand resumed its exploration, tracing the lines of your body with a reverence that made you feel cherished. His lips left yours to trail down your neck once more, each kiss sending shivers of anticipation through you.

When he reached your breasts, he paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for a moment before he continued. His mouth was warm and insistent, his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, drawing soft moans from your lips.

You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. Your hands tangled in his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you whispered his name, "Ben", the sound filled with a mix of longing and need.

Ben’s touch became more insistent, his mouth working its way across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in its wake. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of you with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his desire.

His lips moved lower, kissing a path down your stomach, each touch making your breath hitch. As he reached the waistband of your pants, he looked up at you, his eyes dark with hunger but filled with care. "Are you sure?", he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yes, Ben. I'm sure".

With a slow, deliberate movement, he slid your pants down, discarding them to the side. He took a moment to admire you, his gaze sweeping over your body with a reverence that made you feel both vulnerable and cherished.

He leaned down again, his lips brushing over your thighs, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the tension building inside you, a mix of nerves and excitement as he moved closer to your most intimate place.

"Trust me", he whispered, his voice a soft promise. "I’ll take care of you".

You nodded again, unable to find your voice, your body trembling with anticipation. Ben's touch was gentle but firm, his hands steady as he continued his exploration, his mouth following the path of his hands.

Every kiss, every caress, was a reminder of the connection you shared, the love that had brought you back together. As he moved lower, you felt a wave of warmth and desire wash over you, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered to the moment, letting go of your fears and embracing the love you felt for him.

Ben’s lips hovered just above your wet clit, the heat from his breath adding to the intoxicating anticipation. You could feel him trembling slightly, the restraint he was showing only heightening your own arousal. He paused for a moment, savoring the tension between you, before slowly lowering his lips to your heated center.

His first contact was a feather-light brush of his lips, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your hips instinctively arched towards him, seeking more of his touch. Ben responded by pressing his mouth more firmly against you, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation was electric, a mix of tenderness and raw desire that made your breath catch in your throat.

Ben’s tongue moved in a slow, deliberate pattern, tracing circles around your clit with exquisite precision. Each touch was gentle, calculated to draw out your pleasure, to build it slowly and relentlessly. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider, giving him full access to your most sensitive areas.

You could feel every flick, every lap of his tongue as if it were amplified, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body. His fingers joined the exploration, sliding along the folds of your skin, dipping inside just enough to make you gasp and push against him.

Ben’s movements grew bolder as he sensed your mounting pleasure. His tongue swirled directly over your clit now, applying a slight pressure that made your body jerk in response. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the wet, slick noises of his mouth working tirelessly.

He alternated between sucking gently on your clit and flicking it with his tongue, each switch driving you closer to the brink. You reached down, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on, your movements desperate and unrestrained.

“Ben, I’m—”, your voice broke off into a moan as he intensified his efforts, sensing you were on the edge. His tongue lashed with a purpose now, fast and focused. His fingers moved inside you rhythmically, mimicking the actions of his tongue, pushing you further into a spiral of ecstasy.

The climax built within you like a storm, tension swirling, tightening until it was unbearable. And then, with a final, skillful flick of his tongue coupled with a deep curl of his fingers, you shattered. The orgasm crashed over you in waves, a crescendo of overwhelming sensations that left you breathless and quaking. Ben continued his ministrations through it all, his mouth and fingers working to prolong your pleasure, milking every last shudder from you.

As the waves finally began to recede, leaving you spent and gasping, Ben eased off, planting soft kisses on your inner thighs, then up your body, each one a gentle affirmation of his care and affection. He met your gaze, his own eyes dark with desire but also glowing with love.

“How are you feeling?", he whispered, his voice husky with his own arousal, yet filled with concern for you.

“Amazing”, you managed to say, the word a breathy sigh. You pulled him up to meet your lips, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on him, the flavor mingling with the deep, musky scent of his skin.

Ben’s hands caressed your face gently as he kissed you back, his body pressing down into yours, his erection hard against your thigh, reminding you of his own need still unmet. But in this moment, it was about connection, about reaffirming the bond that had been tested but was now growing stronger.

Without more words, Ben quickly shed the rest of his clothes, his movements filled with urgency and desire. He hovered back above you, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intense mix of love and longing.

As he positioned himself between your thighs, he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. “Are you ready?”, he whispered.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat.

Ben smiled softly, a hint of relief in his eyes. He reached down, guiding himself to your entrance, pausing for a moment to let the anticipation build. His gaze remained fixed on yours, searching for any sign of hesitation.

You bit your lip, nodding again to reassure him.

Ben began to push inside you, moving inch by inch with an almost agonizing slowness and gentleness. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched you, your body adjusting to his size. You felt every inch of him, the overwhelming feeling of being filled after such a long time.

Ben’s eyes were locked onto where your bodies connected, watching intently as he slid into you. His breath was ragged, the sight and sensation of you wrapped around him again almost too much to bear. He paused every few moments, giving you time to adjust, ensuring that you were comfortable.

“You’re so tight”, he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. “I missed this so much”.

You could feel the tension in his body, the restraint it took for him to move slowly, to be gentle. His muscles were taut, his need evident in every tremor of his body.

You shuddered at the intensity of the sensation, causing Ben to pause, concern flickering in his eyes. “You okay?”.

You nodded, urging him to continue. “Yes, I’m okay. Please, Ben, don’t stop”.

Taking a deep breath, Ben resumed his slow, careful movements, inching deeper inside you. As he finally filled you completely, you couldn’t help but jerk slightly backward at his last, rough thrust. The suddenness of it made you whimper softly as he hit a spot too deep, too hard.

Ben immediately noticed your reaction and froze. “Did I hurt you?”, he asked, his voice strained with the effort to remain gentle.

You shook your head quickly, not wanting him to feel guilty. “No, it’s okay. Just…take it slow”.

He nodded, his eyes filled with determination to make this as good for you as possible. He pulled back slightly, then pushed in again with a gentler thrust, making sure to watch your face for any sign of discomfort.

Still, the size of him was always way too much for you, and after so many weeks without sex, it was even more difficult to handle. As he pushed slowly inside you, you pressed your lips together, trying to silence your whimper, but your nails digging into his forearms betrayed your discomfort.

Ben’s eyes were locked on your face, his expression a mix of concentration and concern. “I can stop”, he murmured, his voice strained, but you shook your head quickly.

“Please, don’t”, you whispered back, your voice trembling. “Just… give me a moment”.

He nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. Carefully, he pulled out, the sensation making you gasp softly. He paused, gathering some spit and coating his dick with it, hoping to ease the way for both of you.

Ben looked back at you, his expression tender. “Ready to try again?”, he asked.

You nodded, your body already missing the connection.

Slowly, he positioned himself again, pushing inside you with the same deliberate care. The added lubrication made it easier, and though the initial stretch was still intense, it was more bearable this time. He moved slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Is this better?”.

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the pleasure begin to build. “Yes, much better”, you whispered, your hands moving to grip his shoulders, your nails lightly grazing his skin.

Ben’s eyes remained locked on yours as he murmured, “Good”. He took a moment to adjust, finding a rhythm that felt right for both of you. His movements were slow and deliberate at first, his hips gently rocking against yours. The sensation was a delicate balance between pleasure and the need to accommodate his size.

As he continued, Ben’s hands roamed your body, his touch both reassuring and arousing. He caressed your sides, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, moving up to cup your breasts and gently knead them. The feel of his hands on your body, combined with the steady, intimate rhythm of his thrusts, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

With each gentle push, you could feel the initial discomfort giving way to a growing sense of pleasure. Your body adjusted to him, and the friction between you began to build a sweet tension. Ben’s breathing grew heavier, matching the increasing tempo of his movements. He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hips moved in a steady, controlled rhythm.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. The new angle intensified the sensations, making you gasp with each thrust. Ben responded to your reaction, his movements becoming slightly more urgent, yet still controlled. He was attentive, watching your face for any signs of discomfort, ensuring that you were both in sync.

The connection between you deepened with every thrust, every touch, and every kiss. Ben’s hands returned to your hips, gripping you firmly as he drove himself into you with a measured pace.

For Ben, this moment was overwhelming. He needed to hold onto himself to not come right away. He had missed this intimacy, this connection, so much that the sensations threatened to overtake him. Unable to remain quiet, he pressed his face against your neck, kissing your skin to muffle his groans as you kept clenching around him.

His breath was hot against your neck, and the feeling of his lips and tongue on your skin added to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each kiss, each gentle bite, sent shivers down your spine, intensifying the sensation of him moving inside you.

Your nails raked down his back, leaving faint red lines in their wake. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fought to maintain control.

“You feel so good”, he murmured against your neck, his voice thick with need. “So fucking perfect”.

His words sent a thrill through you, your own pleasure building with each thrust. You could feel the tension coiling in your lower belly, the familiar signs of an approaching climax. Ben sensed it too, his movements becoming more urgent, yet still controlled, determined to bring you to the peak of pleasure before he allowed himself to let go.

“Ben”, you gasped, your voice trembling with the intensity of the sensations. “I’m so close”.

His response was a low, guttural sound, a mix of a growl and a moan. He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. “Let go, baby”, he urged, his voice a rough whisper. “Come for me”.

In that moment, Ben knew for certain that no one could ever give him what you gave him. The connection, the depth of emotion, and the raw intensity were things he had never experienced with anyone else. His heart swelled with a mix of love and desire, and he felt an overwhelming need to be with you, completely and utterly.

As he urged you to let go, your body responded to his words, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. Your climax hit you with the force of a tidal wave, your body shuddering beneath him. You cried out his name, your nails digging deeper into his back.

The sensation of you clenching around him, the way your body trembled with pleasure, pushed Ben over the edge. He thrust into you one last time, deeply, as his own release overtook him. His groan was low and primal, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside you, his grip on you tightening.

You knew that his tight grip would leave new bruises, but right now you didn’t mind. The intensity of the moment, the depth of the connection, overshadowed any discomfort. You felt that his climax was as strong as yours after such a long time without sex, so you didn’t criticize him for his control slipping slightly.

But as his grip grew stronger on your hipbone, you winced uncontrollably. Ben noticed immediately and relaxed his hold, his fingers gently brushing over the spot he had gripped too tightly.

“Sorry”, he murmured.

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you pulled him close, pressing your lips to his with a renewed intensity. Your fingers tangled tightly in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid to let go. The kiss conveyed everything you felt—the love, the forgiveness, the need to reconnect.

Ben responded immediately, his own arms wrapping around you, pulling you even closer. The kiss deepened, filled with a passion that spoke of the weeks of longing and unspoken emotions. It was as if you were both trying to pour everything you had into that moment, to make up for lost time.

When you finally broke the kiss, both of you were breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other. You could see the raw emotion in his eyes, a mirror of what you felt inside.

“I love you”, you whispered, your voice trembling with sincerity.

“I love you too”, he replied, his voice equally filled with emotion. “More than anything”.

You lay there in each other's arms, the world outside fading away. In that moment, it was just the two of you, united in your love and commitment to each other.

You didn’t even know how or when you fell asleep, but as you woke up in the middle of the night, you found yourself held close against Ben’s chest. His arms were wrapped around you protectively, his steady breathing a comforting rhythm.

Carefully, you tried to slip away, needing to use the bathroom. As you sat on the toilet, you winced quietly, the sensation of your sore and burning pussy reminding you of the intensity of your earlier intimacy.

“I hurt you, didn’t I?”, Ben’s gruff voice startled you, and you looked up to see him standing in the doorway, naked and his eyes heavy with sleep.

“Ben, you scared me”, you said, your voice a mix of embarrassment and surprise.

You looked at him with a gaze that should have told him to turn the fuck around, but he didn’t get it. He stayed where he was, concern etched on his face.

“Are you okay?”, he asked again.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. “I’m fine, Ben. Just a little sore… can you… give me a moment?”.

Ben’s brows furrowed, a mix of stubbornness and concern in his expression. “I’ve already seen everything, you know”, he muttered, though he finally turned around to give you some privacy. However, he remained in the doorway, his presence still very much felt.

You finished up quickly, still feeling the ache but managing to compose yourself. Washing your hands, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the walk back to the bedroom.

Ben turned around again, his eyes scanning your body with a mix of concern and appreciation. You rolled your eyes at his persistent gaze, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“I’m fine”, you mumbled, trying to brush off his worry. “You’re just, well, like I’ve told you a hundred times, not quite small”.

A smirk played at the corners of Ben’s mouth, his tiredness momentarily forgotten. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment”, he said, his voice tinged with that familiar cockiness.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Always the ego”, you teased, stepping closer to him.

Ben’s smirk softened into a genuine smile as he reached out, pulling you gently into his arms. “Can’t help it if it’s true”, he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sighed, leaning into his embrace. “Let’s get some sleep”, you said, your voice softening. “We both need it”.

He nodded, guiding you back to the bed. As you settled under the covers, Ben wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, a silent promise of his unwavering support.

“Goodnight”, he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

“Goodnight, Ben”, you replied, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

As you drifted back to sleep, the ache and soreness faded into the background, replaced by the comforting presence of the man beside you.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

-

Part 7

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj

[generalmoonpolice]

Paul Lahote x reader (fluff/angst)

Just a random little idea that I had.

I hope you enjoy - if you have any feedback I would love to hear it!

W/C: 1262

I was beyond angry as I glanced at my boyfriend in front of me. Trying my hardest, I willed myself to calm down. Exploding with anger wasn’t going to help anyone. Deciding to be the bigger person I tried to back away from him, trying to keep my wolf at bay. I could only hope that Paul would do the same. As I took steps away from Paul he stepped closer to me, shaking in anger. I could feel the anger radiating off him. 

“You’re friends with the leech lover.” He growled at me. It came across as more of a statement rather than a question. I didn’t respond, knowing that it was best if we talked about it another time. When we weren’t so worked up.

“We can talk about this another time.” I hissed at him, gritting my teeth together. My response seemed to make him angrier.

Without warning he pushed me up against the wall.

I heard Jared and Leah yell at him, but he didn’t seem to pay attention to them. Without realising what I was doing, my hand moved up and slapped him across the face. The room went silent, the only sound was our heavy breathing as I took a step forward. Tilting my head up my eyes bore into Paul’s. His brown eyes were full of fury but one thing I didn’t expect to see was fear. My eyes widened as I realised what was about to happen before he exploded into his grey wolf, his claws digging into me making me fall back.

I didn’t feel the pain at first, though I heard a scream that sounded much like mine. The pain hit all at once and I saw the grey wolf above me before everything turned dark.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pain was the only thing I felt. It radiated throughout my body and left a bitter taste in my mouth. I could hear breathing to my left and the continuous beeping of machines. My chest felt heavy as a groan escaped me. I tried to peel my eyes open to make sense of what was happening. When my eyes finally cooperated with me, a clean white ceiling was the first thing that I saw. 

A hospital.

Internally I knew where I was - the overly sterile smell, the incessant beeping of the heart monitor and the bright white walls only confirmed this. I just couldn’t piece together why. My eyes travelled further around the room where I was met with Emily sitting in the chair next to me looking at me anxiously with Sam standing behind her, the same look etched onto his face. When my eyes met Emily’s, she grabbed my left hand in hers. I looked at her hand in confusion when I saw the bandages on my chest. 

Suddenly everything came flooding back. Paul. The heaviness in my chest grew and I could feel my breathing pick up. Everything seemed too loud, too much. There seemed to be a ringing sound that reverberated across the room. Sam stepped forward seeing my panic and Emily’s hand tightened around my own. 

“Calm down. You’re okay. You’re safe. Paul is safe.” His words grounded me slightly, the ringing sound stopping as tears started to stream down my face. 

“Is he okay?” I asked. My throat ached as I said the words. Sam gave me a curt nod as the door opened. Half of me wished that it was Paul. The other half was too afraid for it to be Paul. I wasn’t afraid of him. I didn’t want him to be angry at me. 

However it wasn’t Paul that walked through the door, but Carlisle. His golden eyes met mine as his brow furrowed. 

“You healed rather quickly.” He muttered to himself.

“Wolf healing doc.” I attempted to joke. The sound of my own voice made me cringe as did the pain that came with the words. Carlisle gave me a small smile before his eyes flickered down to the board in his hands.

“He got you on your chest, neck and chin. You’re going to be on bedrest for at least 2 weeks - wolf or not. Definitely no exercise, no phasing and certainly no shouting.” My jaw clenched at his words, but I nodded nonetheless. Carlisle continued to tell me about an ointment I had to apply before he showed me how to re-bandage the wounds.

With a small “thank you” he left the room, leaving me with Sam and Emily once again. 

“Is he okay?” I asked the pair. Needing to know that he hadn’t and wasn’t doing anything stupid. Emily gave me a gentle smile. 

“He’s beating himself up, but he’s okay. You should get some sleep.” She said to me. I nodded and settled back into my bed before closing my eyes. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next time I woke up, Paul was in the chair next to my bed. His red-rimmed eyes met mine before more tears fell from his brown eyes.

I stretched out my hand towards Paul wanting him to grab it. When he did, I intertwined our fingers and took one of his larger hands in mine before tracing the lines on his palms smiling to myself. Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel Paul’s eyes burning holes into me. After a few moments I finally looked at him. 

“I’m sorry.” I whispered to him, my voice raspy and soft. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I need you to promise me something.” 

I glanced up at him, peering through my lashes to see his gaze intensely on my face. His eyes left mine to trail along the scratches that now sat on my chin and neck before meeting mine again. He gave me a hesitant nod as if he was afraid of what I was about to say.

“If you ever feel like you need to cool off then you just go. Don’t even think about it. You don’t have to tell me why or for how long. Okay?”

Once again he said nothing and only nodded. I grinned at him before bringing his hand up to my lips to press kiss on his palm. At this, he practically flew out of his seat before he pressed a firm kiss to my head. I tried to look up at him, but he buried his face in my hair and broke down into sobs. The sound brought tears to my own eyes as I rubbed his arm trying to offer him some form of comfort. He pulled back from his embrace and our brown eyes met.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do it and you were telling me to go cool off and I just wouldn’t. When I saw you on the ground there was so much blood and all I could think about was how you were dead and it was all my fault.” He stopped. Taking in another breath he said, “And the last time we ever talked was a fight.” I squeezed his hand tighter as more tears dripped down his face.

“You could never kill me,” I told him sternly, shaking my head. “You wouldn’t ever go that far.” I looked into his brown eyes, my heart clenching painfully. I could practically feel the pain and regret seeping from him. 

Moving forward I pressed my lips to his softly, pulling back quickly. The corners of his lips twitched upwards and he connected our lips again. 

“I love you.” He whispered to me. I didn’t respond, but connected our lips once more. 

[whorediaries-09]

i still do it for you, babe 🩷 bf!sirius black x gf!slytherin!reader in a secret relationship bc she's friends with regulus black, hiding and having the best night with siri in the ROR also HI, how have you been?

i've been really stressed lately, considering exams start from the 20th. anyways, how about you?

so high;

pairing- sirius black x slytherin!reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- did. ya'll. listen. to. freak. by. ldr. (demo).

ps- i hope ya'll like hehe.

the slut club

you ain't gotta say a word, just spark that, let's get burnt

he had you pinned down to the mattress, as he teasingly pressed kisses all over your face, slowly moving down your neck. the slow sensuousness of his kisses were contrasted to the way he roughly pounded into you. his cock was deep into you, hitting just the right spots inside you. the room echoed the sound of skin slapping and heavy moans of pleasure.

'i haven't felt you in so long,' he breathed, completely enamored by your body. you nodded, your mind too blank with consuming ecstasy to reply. you breathed heavy, tangling your arms around his neck, pressing his temple against yours. it was a never ending loop of pleasure that burned through you, simmering under your skin.

'i missed you so much,' you whispered, feeling his cock hit your g spot just right. sirius had your body memorized, and he could sculp you out, pore by pore even with his eyes closed. you were a drug, a fallen angel from heaven. he was high, not from his cigarettes but by you. he felt like a fucking domino, he'd fallen on his knees just for you, and worship you like his goddess. you'd gotten him good.

the tears of pleasure strained down your face, ruining your eye makeup. he could feel the heat radiate of your neck as he entangled his fingers into your hair, pulling your lips to his. he slid his tongue into your mouth, capturing you in a filthy and dirty kiss. his cock plunged in and out of you, your stomach boiling with the hotness of your release.

he could feel it. you were clenching your walls around him, curling your toes, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. he could feel your thighs shake. he slid a finger down between your connected bodies, rubbing your clit. he left your lips, a string of saliva following your swollen lips.

'cum for me sugar. scream my name as loud as you want to,' he begged, pounding into your convulsing walls. his ears wanted to hear you moaning his name like a sweet fucking melody. it was the fuel to his fiery desire.

you nodded, as you felt your coil of orgasm snap, painting his abs. you cried out his name, your throat raw and harsh. it was a cacophony of your moans and his when he continued pounding into you through your release. he chased his own, your puffy walls and moans fueling him to paint yours his.

'sirius, cum inside me, make me yours,' you encourage through gasps, digging your nails into his back. he gasps, as the nail hits the coffin, releasing himself inside you, painting your cunt with hot ropes of his cum.

he moaned, pulling himself out, and falling beside you. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. he wanted to feel your skin against his, feel your scent infiltrate him, infuse him. he pressed soft kisses down your back.

'i love you so much,' he said, squeezing your hip. you turned around to face him. your eyes bore into his. they were blown with lust and love. you pressed a soft kiss on his nose and he smiled.

'i love you more...but i've to clean,'

'no,' he whined. you laughed, clenching your thighs together, hoping the next day wouldn't be much of a sticky mess.

'okay we'll do it tomorrow,'

******

'where have you been!' regulus shouted. he was normally a soft spoken person, but you'd missed a few lessons, and he was concerned. so when you finally showed up from god knew where, he exploded.

his eyes slowly wandered over you. he opened his mouth to say something, but didn't. you hoped sirius hadn't given you any hickeys you had to cover up.

'i-i slept in,' he stared at you skeptically.

'are you sure?'

'yeah!' you chimed, a little too enthusiastically for it to be an honest statement. he deadpanned an expression of thoughtfulness before he replied,

'you're wearing a red tie,'

[chimivx]

home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part seven} 3.6k warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; peese n lurv. <3

Cheers could be heard down every street in Iloa, the Lions stadium alive, living, breathing, exploding full of love and support, every voice showering down onto the field of ten or so men stretching, throwing around baseballs, or sprinting across the grass.

In the bullpen, the smack of DK’s hundred mile per hour baseball hitting the leather of Woozi’s glove echoed against the walls and carried up to the kids in their matching jerseys dangling their heads over the railings to watch them, calling down for them to throw a baseball up into the stands. Standing on the sidelines, coaches, other starting and backup pitchers, they’d grab whichever ball DK discarded and tossed it up to the boys and girls, watching their faces light up with joy.

A sweet smell lingered in the air, one mixing with that of the savoriness of the comfort foods the boys on the team indulged in after a victory, one they hoped would happen today. Pretzels, soft chewy cinnamon bites, ice cream stands around every turn, every corner of the stadium. Women and men wandered about with bright red shirts on, carrying bins of ice cold drinks, beers, and water bottles, their voices booming through and over the crowds eager to get their buzz on. Fans waiting in line at the stores, full of Lions merchandise, were calling them over, swiping their cards without checking the price, and chugging the can as best as they could before they were allowed to walk through the door. An excellent ploy, get them tipsy and they won’t care what they’re picking up off the shelves.

Bouncing in your black boots, skinny jeans on your legs and a silky custom Lions bomber jacket on top of a bodysuit, you held a water bottle in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other. Grooving to the music radiating the walls of the stadium, a pop beat from a music group that prided themselves on being the biggest fans of your brother, the cutest group of seven talented boys the Lions were now partners with, you pulled on the elbow linked with yours, accidentally rocking them with you. Sunglasses low on your nose, you turned and smiled. Latched to you tight, elbows locked, Ryujin licked her ice cream and raised a brow.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said, letting you rock her to your heart's content as the two of you strolled through the first floor pavilion. “Is this that group DK likes?” 

“The group that DK is friends with?” Correcting her, she smiled and rolled her eyes. “We had a few of them over in the off season while I was home with him, they’re cool.”

Ryujin dodged a man barreling toward the seats carrying one of his kids in his arms while the other ran behind him. “Jesus,” she muttered. “This place is crazier than last season.” Catching the drips of ice cream down the side of your cone with your tongue, you winked to a group of girls around your age staring at you and Ryujin and gave them a wave as you passed by them.

“They need them to win,” you said.

“They need to use manners,” she countered, giving you a look.

Shaking your head, waving to some other people who actually called out your name and greeted you properly, you said, “Then we need them to win. You don’t wanna see these people when they lose.”

Ryujin, having been on guard for your sake since she arrived three days ago, gave the people a stare, not caring what they thought of her. She overanalyzed them all. Back in February, a little over a month ago, when the Mingyu story broke the internet, your name was drug through the mud. You weren’t so innocent either, though you were, you knew what you did, what had happened, but to the media you were a drunken mess homie hopper. 

The photos of Vernon safely placing you into his passenger seat couldn’t even compare to the photos of Mingyu and Daya, taken from far away, not up close like people would do to you when you were dating him. That thought alone disgusted you, that you weren’t worthy of certain boundaries like Daya apparently was, that you could have cameras shoved in your face while you were kissing your boyfriend in a public space, but there she was, on his lap, tongue in his cheek, and the photos and videos were grainy as fuck. 

He couldn’t defend himself. It took about twenty four hours for you to be able to face him, even at the training games they had played the following day you ignored him, sat in the stands with your sunglasses on, arms folded, legs crossed, only cheering and clapping when ‘Now batting, first basemen, Chwe Hansol’ was announced through the stadium. Simply to piss him off, of course. Videos of that hit the internet to no one's surprise, everyone was way too involved in the scandal that almost took down Vernon’s name as well.

The two of you spoke that night, the day after the story nearly imploded your lives, with DK and Vernon on standby, the two waiting in the hallway outside of your hotel room to Mingyu’s demise. Your precious, golden hunk of a boyfriend couldn’t say two words to come back from what he’d done. With grace, somehow, he listened to your telling of how the night went, how he’d acted in front of your brother, and what he’d said to Vernon.

His only reasoning, that wasn’t an excuse to how he ended up with Daya on top of him, was that she came onto him. Loosely believing it, that he didn’t realize what she’d been doing, you let him go with a hug and his thousands of soft apologies for everything he’d been putting you through without realizing. 

That was the Mingyu you used to know, before the money, before the fame got to his head, before he was one of the stars on the team, a huge name in baseball. The nice Mingyu, the one who’d catch onto the things your parents would say and give you a silly look with a roll of his eyes, the Mingyu who once upon time said he wanted to take care of you one day, wanted to give you a life you deserved. 

But, he was all talk. A hug, whispers of I’m sorry, it was as simple as that.

All the mentions of realization seemed to withstand the pressure of the media cracking down on him in interviews, the way people would run into him on the street and bombard him with questions of you, of Vernon, of the scandal, of what he’d done. Every single time he would own up to it. Left within him, though you broke his heart, wouldn’t forgive him, told him that you two did not work together, was the care he held for you. The love he said he had, which out of everything, was the one thing you wholeheartedly believed in.

Protecting your name, defending you, speaking about you with a softness in his eyes only when asked, he at least kept one of his promises. Giving you a life you deserved, a safe one. He gave you your space, he didn’t try to come back, he didn’t fight to hold onto anything, he respected what you had to say, what you wanted, which would’ve driven you mad if Vernon weren’t standing in the hallway, if you didn’t have history clinging to him, love for him. A boy that podcasts and drama influencers alike were calling stupid for involving himself with you, for getting between you and Mingyu, that if you two were to get together after this it’d be a shorter relationship than the one you’ve just come out of.

All the more reason for Mingyu to come out and admit to what he’d done, which in turn, destroyed Daya and Hoshi’s marriage.

Desperately clinging to whatever she possibly could, sloppily throwing stories together, making absolute dogshit up about you, about Mingyu, about your brother, she scrambled miserably to hold onto her husband and the beautiful, wonderful life he’d given her. 

You and Hoshi spent some time together in the days following the break up, bonding in a way you’d never expect. Across dinner tables after days of baseball, he’d sip his beer and tell you story after story about what a witch his soon-to-be ex-wife was. He never meant to marry her, which didn’t make him out to be partner of the year, but when they found out she was pregnant with their daughter he put a ring on her finger and owned up to the new life he was bound to live.

He wasn’t looking for an excuse to divorce her, to escape her, to get rid of her, but he wouldn’t say he wasn’t grateful that this ended up happening. As for his daughter, he wouldn’t give her up for the world, when he spoke on Daya their daughter never came up. It was all her, his now ex-wife, or in the process of becoming ex-wife. He’d always shower Tora with love, would show up for her, and give her the world whether he was with her mother or not. And that’s who Daya became to him, the mother of his daughter, nothing more.

She was the curse of last season after all, the fans had no problem discarding her after Hoshi made the one and only public post to announce his divorce.

In doing so, combined with Mingyu’s unspoken compliance, Hoshi aided in the repairing of your name, of Vernon’s name, and within weeks things started to turn around.

“I don’t like the way some of these people are looking at you,” Ryujin said, holding onto you a little tighter each time someone's eyes spent more than two seconds on you. 

Tugging her out of the way of a family staring at their phones then pointing to the signs above their heads, confused as to where they were going, you yanked her toward the row of stairs leading to the first base line. “Most are fine,” you assured her, pausing at the top of the steps. The man working the row gave you a smile and a nod. “How are you?” Returning the smile, you watched his cheeks blush.

“Fine, Miss Isla, and you?” he asked with another nod of his head.

Looking at Ryujin, then back at him, you nodded as well. “Fantastic. There’s three more behind us, they should-”

“ISLA!”

The high pitched scratchy scream struck your heart. Eyes wide, head snapping to look down at your seats in the first row, you couldn’t help the obnoxious screech that came out of you involuntarily, simply triggered by a glimpse of their beautiful faces. Ryujin slipped her elbow out of yours, accepted the ice cream cone you slapped into her hand, and let you go, discarding the sweets before leisurely following you down the stairs, not running like you were. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, skipping a few steps at a time, “Oh my god!” Heads were turned from the seats slowly filling the sections, you and your sisters shrieks gathering attention like clockwork. Even if you weren’t actively causing a scene, when the five of you were together people paid attention. 

Jumping off the last step into the row, you didn’t even have a second to look at any of them, to mess with the adorable outfits they’d thrown together, you were in their arms and their arms were around you, squeezing you, the four of you lost in whispers and Tori’s teary eyes. When Ryujin made it down the steps she wiggled herself into the middle, her hands grabbing onto three different parts of two different girls.

Aurora, Tori, Yuna, Ryujin, they were here. Once you found out they were coming to opening day you upgraded their tickets, you grouped them in with yourself and made sure they’d be down here on the field with you. It’d been months, and after the last few weeks, you needed your sisters. Partially the reason why Ryujin came days earlier after she’d gotten clearance from a few of her classes. Like DK promised, she stayed in his house with you, she hung out with your brother and actually got to know him for him and not the almighty baseball superstar he was made out to be.

She liked him as your brother more, and DK took to her in the same way. Within three days it felt like you were trapped with a big sister as well as a big brother with how they both ganged up on you, teaming together to tease you like big siblings should while whipping you into shape at the same time. The other three were set to come back to the house with you tonight, staying for the length of the three game series the Lions were opening their season with, and you couldn’t wait for them to spend time with the brother you spent so much time telling them about at Nasara.

“Tor,” you whined first as the group hug dispersed, reaching for her bronzed cheeks glowing in the March sun. Her glossy pout worsened, making you giggle, forcing your thumbs to her bottom lashes to keep her makeup in place. Tori came close to Ryujin in your heart, another trustworthy sister to share some secrets with, to open up to, she matched your try anything once energy, your party loving twin.

Grabbing your wrists, her red nails brushing your skin, she shook her head. “It is so good to see you, Isla,” she said, her voice quiet, half broken. “You have no idea what the hell we went through after you left, what we thought happened to you, it was so scary.”

A smile pricked your lips. “Ryujin throwing a sneaker at Yeji’s head?” Giggles sounded around you. “I heard all about it.” Wiping her eyes, you took her hands in yours and squeezed them, giving Aurora a glance. “I heard about everything.”

“How did you know?” Aurora asked, her observant eyes intriguing your own, the girl always on some mission to know. ��You said something to me, do you remember?” Truthfully, no, you did not, and you weren’t at a point yet where you had the balls to admit it. Aurora seemed to catch on quick. “Before any of us knew anything… Caught onto anything, which, we didn’t, you knew.”

“And it cost you,” Yuna chimed in, laying a hand on your shoulder. Giving her and her chocolate curls a smile, you shrugged.

“I’ll be honest,” you whispered. “I thought it was obvious.” The laughter that broke out warmed your heart, thank god.

“Let’s not get stuck on this right now,” Ryujin pulled you out the girl's hands and moved you in front of a seat that looked straight out to first base. “We have a game to watch, we can talk about this later.”

Shuffling around the chairs, deciding who was going to sit where around you, an insane amount of questions were thrown your way, every single one involving Vernon.

“Are you guys dating?” Yuna asked from beside you on your right.

“Were you guys dating before? At Nasara?” Tori asked from your left.

Aurora poked her head forward. “Just so everyone knows, he told me about her first!”

“Shut up, let her speak,” Tori elbowed her leather jacket that so obviously belonged to Wooyoung. 

Ryujin threw her hands up, her eyebrows furrowed, the crease in her forehead deep. “I knew the whole time?!”

“Shut up, let her speak,” Aurora said to her, the two breaking out into giggles, throwing playful hands at each other. 

Tori rolled her eyes, her fluffy lashes fluttering as she looked between you and Yuna. “These two, I swear they’re on each other more than anything I’ve ever seen.”

Perking a brow, a smirk lighting up your lips, you leaned forward to witness them swatting at each other's hands, giggling like little kids. Yeah, you knew that one. “Ror,” you caught her attention, and Ryujin’s, “You and Wooyoung? Finally?”

She blinked, many times. Tori took her bottom lip between her teeth, her face going blank. “I mean,” she started, shrugging, gaze flickering out onto the empty field. “Something like that.” Confusion filled your face and she smiled, a breathy laugh escaping her. “We’re not putting pressure on anything,” she clarified. “So many big things have happened this year, we just want to… Be.”

You knew that one.

Letting her know you understood her with a smile, you shifted to Tori who just finished taking a deep breath, her eyes fixed forward. “What about you?” you asked her, letting the other two go back to giggling with one another. Yuna listened in to them, paying no mind to the quiet way Tori spoke back to you.

“What do you mean?” she questioned within a whisper.

“You know what I mean,” you laughed, “How’s Mingi? Mr Loverman? I miss seeing you guys be you,” you nudged her arm, “Your relationship is my favorite, I yearn to have what you two have.”

“Yearn?” She smirked.

“I know words, Tor,” you said, sitting up straight. Gesturing to yourself, you said, “Haven’t drank in two weeks, I’m remembering words I used to know when I was good at school, I’m tryna use them all, one word a day.”

Her eyes began to shine. “Two weeks,” she whispered. You nodded, feeling proud, keeping your anxiety locked away for the time being. “Isla, that’s great.”

“Thanks,” you sighed, accepting her hand she offered you. “It’s hard.”

“But you’re doing it,” she smiled.

“Longest streak yet,” you whispered, and she squeezed your fingers. “This doesn’t get you out of the Mingi question.”

Her face fell. “Damn it.”

“Don’t tell me you guys broke up?” you asked, and she turned toward you, flustered, her cheeks flushing of color.

“No, no, no,” she whispered as fast as humanly possible, “Not that, we didn’t break up, it’s just…”

“Soul said that!” Aurora’s cackle cut her off, Ryujin and Yuna laughing with her.

Closing her eyes, Tori took a breath before looking at you. “I don’t know how to describe it. It sounds horrible in my head, I don’t think I can say it out loud, if I try I either look like a jealous bitch or a shitty girlfriend.”

Placing your other hand on top of the one you were already holding, you smiled something soft. “It’s okay,” you said. “Thoughts are one thing, actions are another.”

Tori frowned. “I love him, you know I do.”

“Tor, we all know that.”

She glanced away, collecting her thoughts. The booming voice of the sportscaster sounded over the speakers and the now full stands erupted into cheers. “We’ll talk later,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face as the Lions were called out onto the field, every person in the stadium leaping to their feet.

Adrenaline shot down your spine, your anxiety pushed aside by the excitement that buzzed within your heart. DK, the first to run out onto the field, shot a hand in the air, waving as the music blasted for their arrival, guiding them to their places on the field. Player after player, they ran out, hands in the air, greeting their fans, searching for their family in the stands, saying hello to cameras pointed their way. The field flooded with love from both players and fans.

Number seven hit the field, cleats in the grass, and your heart skipped a beat. This was it, the first game of the rest of his life. Brown curls popped out beneath his hat, curls you had your fingers in last night from the passenger seat of his car after Ryujin slammed her door shut and hurried up to your brother's house, Vernon dropping the two of you off after a shared dinner amongst friends. He took a second, pausing as the crowd went wild for him and his teammates. Tipping his chin backward, chocolate eyes wide, an absolute look of awe, he turned in a slow circle, attempting to look at every single person, until he found you.

The world went quiet around you, though everyone and your sisters still cheered with every ounce of power within them. A smile lit up his face, one he wouldn’t normally wear so publicly, too much emotion for people who didn’t know him. Watching him wear it now, taking in all the love the fans threw his way, you swore you could cry. 

He was meant to go to first base, everyone was taking their places on the field, the other team was on their way out, but once he found you he was stuck. Glued to you. Drawn to you. He couldn’t even say hi to your friends, his friends, he hurried over and grabbed onto the net separating the two of you, beckoning you closer. Stepping up to the ledge, grabbing onto his fingers that poked through the net, you smiled.

“Girlfriend,” he whispered, pressing his nose to the scratchy yarn.

Leaning into him, doing the same, your noses brushing, you whispered, “Boyfriend,” with a giggle.

“This is fucking crazy,” he said. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“I’m so happy you’re here,” you said. “You made it.”

“Fuck,” he gasped.

“Remember to breathe,” you whispered. “You can do this.”

Sucking down a breath, he released it all too fast, whispering, “I love you,” before pressing his lips to yours, unafraid to let everyone in the stadium in on the secret you two have been keeping for two weeks now. A secret that you’d try to keep, that both of you wanted to keep, for yourselves, and yourselves only.

Though you knew, after this, #visla would be trending faster than anything.

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[naomijoestar]

⋆.ೃ JJBA SCENARIOS ࿔*:･

Masterlist here <3

Genre: smut

Character: Joseph Joestar

Warnings: smut, NSFW, alot of edging, humiliation

Notes: This post is a part of my birthday special since it’s my birthday ;) I hope you enjoy <3 The other birthday special posts will be linked here once they’re all posted! Also happy halloween 👻

Please! - Joseph Joestar (NSFW)

Joseph grinned mischievously as he looked at you, his girlfriend. It was his birthday after all, and he wanted to make it one to remember. He began kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking lightly. You shivered under his touch, your body already responding to his advances. Joseph's hands roamed your body, caressing and teasing. He reached down and grabbed his hard cock, stroking it slowly. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he hovered over you. Joseph's lips brushed against your ear. He whispered dirty things about how much he wanted you. How he was going to make you beg for his cock. You squirmed under him as he continued talking dirty. His hand was still pumping his hard cock.

Joseph leaned down and licked one of your nipples hard, causing you to moan and arch your back. He took your other nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, all while still gently stroking his cock. Joseph released your nipple with a pop and looked into your eyes. His eyes were filled with lust and desire. He knew he had you right where he wanted you. Joseph leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue pushed into your mouth, tasting and exploring. You could taste yourself on his tongue. He pulled back and smiled wickedly as he lined his cock up with your entrance.

He thrust deep inside you in one hard stroke. You cried out in pleasure, your walls clamping down on his cock. Joseph groaned as he felt your tight heat. He began thrusting in and out of you, hard and fast. Your moans and cries of pleasure filled the room.

Joseph's pace quickened, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. He leaned down and sucked on your neck, nibbling and biting gently. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, right at the edge. Joseph reached around and fingered your clit, circling it fast. You began to squirm and shake beneath him, your body tensing up.

He kept thrusting, harder and faster until you finally exploded around him, your juices coating his cock.

Joseph groaned as you tightened around him, your muscles clamping down on his cock as you spasmed around him. He thrust deeper, trying to hit that sensitive spot inside you.

Joseph increased his pace, his thrusts becoming even harder and faster. He reached down and began rubbing your clit in fast, circular motions. You whimpered and moaned loudly, your body shaking and trembling beneath him. But Joseph didn't let up, he kept thrusting deeper and faster, hitting that sensitive spot inside you over and over. You could feel another orgasm building, your muscles tensing and clamping down on his cock.

He knew you were right there, ready to explode. But he wanted to draw out your pleasure, to make you beg for release. Joseph slowed his pace, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back inside you hard. You cried out in frustration, your body trembling with need. He continued this torturous pace, denying you the release you so desperately craved. Joseph could hear your muffled cries and whimpers, your face buried in the pillow. He knew you were close, your body shaking with each deep thrust, but he kept going, denying you the release you so desperately needed. You whimpered and sobbed, your body writhing beneath his. Joseph leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Come on baby, you can take it. Give me what I want.”

You cried out in frustration, “Please, I can't take anymore! Please let me cum!” But Joseph just smirked and continued his relentless pace, fucking you harder and faster until you were begging and pleading for mercy.

He wanted to take things further, to really push your limits. With a sudden thrust, Joseph pulled out completely, leaving you panting and trembling beneath him. You reached down, trying to find your own release, but he grabbed your wrists and handcuffed them together. You cried out in frustration and humiliation, your body writhing with need. Joseph smirked and said, “Not so fast, baby. You'll cum when I say you can.” He left you there, naked and handcuffed, your body aching and yearning for release, begging him to just let you finish. Joseph leaned down and began teasing your sensitive clit with his tongue, circling it gently, but not applying enough pressure to send you over the edge. You whimpered and gasped, your body tensing with anticipation. He kept up this teasing pace, flicking his tongue across your clit, but never quite giving you what you needed. You couldn't decide if you wanted to beg him for more or tell him to stop. Joseph smirked, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

Joseph pulled back, positioning himself at your entrance, and with power, slammed back inside you with so much force that the bed rocked violently beneath you. He added his fingers to your already stretched-out hole, the combination of his massive cock and his fingers overwhelming your senses. You were overstimulated, your body trembling and shaking with the effort to take it all. But after a short, intense moment, you finally reached your climax, your body convulsing around him as you cum hard. Your walls clamped down on his cock and fingers, your cries of ecstasy filling the room.

As your muscles pulsed around his cock one last time, Joseph slowly pulled out, careful not to disturb your delicate sensitive areas. He grabbed his rock-hard cock, stroking it a few times, relishing the feeling of your release milking him. With a loud moan, he shot his load all over your sore, aching nipples, marking his territory. He worked his way up to your marked neck, leaving his calling card there. Finally, he pried open your welcoming mouth, releasing his load onto your tongue, making sure you tasted his seed. Breathing heavily, Joseph collapsed beside you, his hand possessively resting on your stomach, content in the knowledge that you were truly his now.

If you’d like me to write anything specific for any jjba character/squad parts 1-7 you can request it! (I usually don’t write smut, this was only for my birthday and I wanted to surprise you guys)

[sosa2imagines]

Right back at ya.

Warnings- Jealousy, gun violence, pole dancing.

The bass thumps through the club, vibrating the floor beneath your feet. You and Lloyd had been enjoying the night, drinks flowing and conversation easy. But a woman, all slinky dress and heavy perfume, had set her sights on Lloyd, and he, in a playful attempt to make you jealous, wasn't exactly discouraging her advances.

A smirk plays on your lips. You weren't threatened, not one bit. In fact, you were mildly amused. Taking a confident stride, you reach for Lloyd's half-finished scotch, downing it in one smooth gulp. “Someone needs a dance partner…” you declare, your voice husky from the drink. The woman looks at you with a scowl, you ignore her.

You go to the bathroom, you did manage to find a pair of scissors. Cutting your dress on each side, like slits.

Lloyd watches, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as you head towards the centre of the dance floor. The music shifts. The familiar pop beat washes over you, and you move with it.

‘Here we are, a careful distance Here's my heart, what's left of it In this town, I used to listen Once, Once, Yeah’

Your confidence takes centre stage. You glide across the floor, your body moving in perfect rhythm with the music. As the first verse plays, you execute a series of basic steps like grapevines, hip rolls, and isolations, showcasing your control and fluidity.

‘I had hope, blind faith Had as much as you can take’

The chorus hits, and you gracefully ascend the nearby pole, the smooth metal cool against your skin. Your movements become more sensual, your legs wrapping around the pole as you perform a slow spin, your eyes holding Lloyd's gaze with a playful intensity. Because of the cut, your thighs are on display.

‘Ashes burn the morning after Only know I'm here to stay I was so, I let you see me That was dumb, but that's OK Tripping down to your place What is love anyway’

You continue your ascent, showcasing your strength and agility by twirling around the pole gracefully, your body forming a perfect line against the pole. As you descend in a controlled slide, your eyes lock with Lloyd's, a silent challenge in their depths.

‘Who or whatever you do Don't let anyone love you Touch them where it hurts And then you'll leave’

The final chorus explodes, and you erupt into a flurry of impressive moves. You spin, you dip, you showcase intricate footwork around the pole, your confidence radiating outwards. The entire club is captivated, their gazes drawn to your captivating performance.

Lloyd, his earlier amusement fading, watches you with a mixture of awe and something akin to possessiveness. The other woman is forgotten, a mere afterthought in the face of your captivating display. He can't tear his eyes away, his gaze tracking your every move, a silent apology forming in his eyes.

‘I'm only gonna let you kill me once I'm only gonna let you kill me then some I'm only gonna let you kill me Once, Once, Once, yeah’

As the song reaches its climax, you descend from the pole, the crowd erupting in cheers and whistles. A line of guys gathers around you, mesmerized by your seductive performance.

Despite the numerous men surrounding you, you weren't scared. In fact you were waiting for the sound, that is sheer music to your ears.

As one of the guy, was about to approach you, the sound of gunshots suddenly cuts off the applause and cheering from the crowd. The guy who was about to approach you is startled and backs away, clearly scared. The sound of the shot causes a bit of chaos and commotion in the room, breaking up the previously euphoric atmosphere. And you smile.

Lloyd, was the one who fired the shot, silently threatening the guys, who were approaching you to stay away. In a silent but powerful display of his protection and jealousy, he ensures that no one can encroach on you or try to take you away. It was a subtle yet powerful display of his love and possessiveness.

You return to Lloyd, a playful smile on your lips. “Ready for a real dance partner?” you ask, extending your hand.

Lloyd takes it, his own smile sheepish. “Absolutely,” he says, his voice low with a hint of something more. The playful competition is over, replaced by a renewed appreciation for the woman who had just set the dance floor on fire.

His woman.

The night, once threatened by a bit of childish jealousy, now held the promise of something far more captivating.

TAGLIST- @imyourbratzdoll @nekoannie-chan @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @emerald-writes @winterslove1917

[enqmind]

Now available on AO3. Exclusively, when I delete my tumblr account on 18/01/25

Fic!

This is what happens when you've recently read baby trapping fics and then have a conversation about what foods you can't eat around taking certain medications.

Soap/Female Reader WC: 1.4k 18+ content.

Warnings: Baby trapping, manipulation, tampering with contraceptives, tampering with food, technically poisoning, misuse of a dietary supplement. Noncon, despite containing no actual sex (because baby trapping).

Reader notes: Implied to dislike marmite, probably isn't Scottish, dislikes masks (not a covid denier. they just make her uncomfortable).

Gothmet

 Johnny has been cooking a lot lately.

 “Trying to take after your compatriot?”

 He’d laughed at that.

 “I think you’ll find I don’t hit my Boiling Point quite so fast, love.”

 You suspected he’d last five minutes in food service, since you’re not actually allowed to explode the sous chef.

 But as a home cook? Oh, he was passable.

 His latest creation was squid ink ravioli filled with an avant garde bacon and nigella seed concoction.

 It was interesting, but good was a different question.

 “Do you like it?” He asked, puppy dog enthusiasm radiating off of him in waves.

 “… I don’t know,” you confessed. “It’s certainly interesting, but I’m not sure one way or the other.”

 You half expected his face to fall, but instead he looked thoughtful as he took a considered bite.

 “Aye, I see what you mean. This’ll take some workshopping. You willing to be my taste tester?” 

 You grinned at him over your wine.

 “It would be my pleasure.”

 “And that is my top priority, after all.”

 He didn’t seem discouraged by the half hearted kick under the table, especially if his enthusiasm for ‘dessert’ was considered.

 His new culinary interest expanded to baking.

 The next day he presented you with a zebra cake with the highest contrast you’d ever seen. The chocolate stripes were almost jet black.

 “I got some o’  that ultra Dutch processed cocoa to try making my own oreos. Ordered one of them special biscuit cutters too, but it hasn’t arrived yet. So I decided to make a very accurate zebra cake.”

 “You ordered one for bourbons too, right?”

 “What do you take me for, hen? Some kind of godless heathen?”

 You raised your hands placatingly.

 “Just making sure, Johnno. Gotta check to see if you’ve been replaced by a sexy doppelganger every now and then.”

 He squinted at you.

 “Yeah, well. You’ll get your bourbons. With bourbon cream, mind.”

 “Always trying to ply me with something, aren’t you?”

 He looked scandalised when you laughed.

 Within the week he had those biscuits ready for you. True to his word the bourbons had bourbon cream and the orefauxs (as he called them) had Baileys cream. Both were as black as the devil’s bottom.

 “I might need a new wardrobe soon if you keep this up,” you joked between mouthfuls.

 “Ah, I’ll just help you work it off. Or just buy you a new one.”

 The look you gave him might not have been as withering as you’d hoped, but he seemed to get the message.

 “I’ll try to bake you something healthier next time.”

 Something healthier meant a coal black loaf of bread.

 “It’s a black bread,” he said cheerily, “it’s got rye in it. Thought might as well go the whole hog and added some activated charcoal to make it as black as you like your coffee.”

 It was with a heavy sigh that you turned your eyes to him.

 “I can’t eat this.”

 His face did fall this time.

 “Oh. You allergic to rye? Or are you afraid I’ve slipped some marmite in?”

 “My marmite take is neither here nor there. The problem is that I’m on the pill and activated charcoal can make it not work.”

 “Oh, shit.”

 He looked so crestfallen that you felt even worse.

 “Sorry.”

 “No, no. It’s my fault. Shoulda considered that.”

 You tore off a chunk and slathered it with butter, just to see him light up a little.

 “Well, I guess half a loaf over a couple days can’t hurt too much.”

 His grin was blinding.

 “Ah, but what am I gonna do with all this spare activated charcoal? I cannae eat it all meself.”

 You gave him a grin of your own.

 “Could live up to your callsign and use it to make soap. Good for the skin and all that.”

 “Ah,” he said sagely. “So that’s why they kept showing me that melt and pour stuff. I was starting to think I’d have to assassinate Bezos for knowing too much. How’d he even find out?”

 You chuckle as you eat your chunk of bread.

 “It’s really good,” you mumbled, delight rendering you mannerless.

 Johnny puffed up with pride.

 “I’ll try a different colourant next time. Still got that squid ink, after all.”

 “How is recipe development, by the way?”

 “Can’t complain. I’ll have another plate for you in a couple o’ days.”

 “I look forward to it!”

 In the meantime you were working your way through the biscuits, cake and that half a loaf.

 The second round of ravioli was divine. Exactly what was different was a question, but if Johnny was going to continue to be a magician in the kitchen then he was allowed a few secrets.

 He joked that this was the way to your heart, and he wasn’t far wrong. There was something about a handsome and rugged man cooking for you that was so very seductive. So less ‘way to your heart’ and ‘way into your knickers’.

 His culinary adventures continued with a squid ink version of the bread (still delicious, barely tasted different) and so much chocolatey goodness.

 Despite previously thinking such things impossible, you liked chocolate as much as the next woman, it was getting more than a bit much.

 “Don’t worry. I’ll take a break on the old chocolate,” he reassured you over some jjajangmyeon. “I’ve got a few more ideas up my sleeve.”

 He bought you a pie.

 It was rectangular, but certainly a pie.

 “I thought you said you made buns?”

 “I did hen, a bun at least. This is a black bun, it’s traditional around Hogmanay.”

 When he cut it open you could see why it was called that.

 The filling was dark as a moonless night and chock full of dried fruit.

 Granted, you were a bit leery, but you gave it a shot and were pleasantly surprised.

 “This is good. Remind me to come ‘round yours for New Year’s.”

 “It’ll be an invitation, not a reminder, lass.”

 You grinned, even with currents stuck in your teeth.

 The next thing he bought you was fudge.

 You were more dubious about this one than the pie.

 “Why is it black?”

 “It’s liquorice flavoured. Me mam asked me to make some, thought I’d let you try it too.”

 Maybe you could deal with the dried fruit, but the liquorice was a bit much. All sorts were one thing, but this flavour and this texture? It was weird and gritty and didn’t go. No thank you.

 “Well, you win some you lose some,” he grinned, “they can’t all be winners.”

 The liquorice might not have been, but the black sesame seed mochi certainly was.

 “It’s good in a porridge too, they use rice starch to thicken it.”

 You raised an eyebrow at him.

 “Porridge without oats? Do your countrymen know you’re speaking such blasphemy?”

 “Aye, aye. Fair point. You keep this schtumm and I'll work on some fusion cuisine so they don’t burn me in Parliament square.”

 It took a few days, but the proper black sesame seed porridge was welcome. You’d been feeling a little under the weather lately.

 “So what do we call this? Scorean? Kortish?”

 “Please stop.”

 “You’re no fun.”

 Johnny pouted.

 “Oh right. Before I forget; what happened to that soap making? Or am I just not getting any?” It was your turn to pout.

 “Ah, I decided to go cold process. So it’ll be ready when I get back from deployment.”

 You nodded.

 “Do you want me to bring some down when I come pick you up so we can throw it at Simon? ‘Cause he’s gonna need it with that fucking mask he’s always wearing.”

 Johnny’s eyebrow’s rose.

 “I still don’t get why you hate it so much.”

 “I swear he’s making faces at me under that thing.”

 “Really?” He asked dubiously.

 “I just don’t like it. He gives me a weird vibe.”

 Johnny looked affronted.

 “Hey-“

 “Because of the mask. Hated it during the pandemic, too. I’d last three minutes in Japan in the winter.”

 “I’ll take you in the summer then,” he smiled softly, placated.

 You rolled your eyes affectionately.

 “I’ll hold you to that.”

 As ever, it was with a heavy heart that you saw him off the next day.

 He did leave you with some treats to tide you over. Another black bun, some biscuits (chocolate was back on the menu) and a box of lovely dark parkin. Altogether, it should last most of the time he was away.

 It didn’t.

 You stress ate most of it when you found out you were pregnant.

[trafficlife]

Kiss Me Quick, Steal Every Secret I Keep

Etho sees his hard task as a test of skill more than anything else. He thinks it's time he shows Tango what he learned.

Word Count: 3041

A gift for @acolorboom

The reward is none.

Etho stared up at the darkening sky, a collection of whispers flooding his mind.

The risk is great.

He held his breath and closed his eyes. He could only hope that the task wouldn’t be completely impossible.

Let me open the door.

At least, for the most part, Etho was good at completing his tasks. How bad could this one be?

Accept your fate.

The scroll appeared in front of him, an ominous aura radiating from it. He walked away from the Secret Keeper—it’s been a few weeks, yet it still gave Etho chills—to read his secret privately.

A few words stood out almost immediately: Grian, wither, warden, battle, deep dark. And surprisingly, Etho actually felt excited for this task. Would it be chaotic? Absolutely, but that’s what these games were made for. He was also very happy that Grian was tasked with the summoning wither—the last time he tried to bring a warden up to the surface, he ended up dying. 

Etho grinned behind his mask. An idea was already forming in his head: he wanted another person to come with him. But Etho didn’t need help. What he needed was an audience. And he knew exactly who would be interested in watching this.

****

“.... Hold up, you want me to do what?”

“I told you: I want you to come with me and see me bring the warden up to the surface.”

Tango blinked several times at Etho, trying to process the absurdity of this situation: Etho had walked onto the Heart Foundation island and almost immediately grabbed Tango’s sleeve and pulled him away from Skizz and BigB. Then, he tells Tango this plan, which pretty obviously seems to be a task. Tango slowly lowered his rose-colored glasses for extra flair and chuckled. “You- You realize this is a crazy idea, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you realize that this could go either very right or very wrong?”

“Yes.”

Tango pursed his lips, tail swaying behind him. “Well, lucky for you, I do like me some chaos! It would be very impressive if you also succeeded to lure the Warden up.”

“I hope I will. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

A surprised noise escaped Tango’s throat and he felt his face burn. The way Etho said that, with a voice sweeter than honey, coupled with a stare so intense but still so gentle, made Tango short-circuit. And Etho, the smug bastard that he was, knew about this. He walked over to Tango, leaning over his ear and whispering “I want to show you what I’ve learned from your game.”

If dying from being too flustered was a thing, Tango would’ve exploded then and there. However, he was already very close to doing so: his face, neck and ears exploded with heat and his pupils were blown wide. His tail dragged across the cherry blossoms, setting them on fire, but he was too flustered to notice. 

Etho chuckled softly and, oh, he was doing this shit on purpose wasn’t he? He stomped on the flames, leaving black petals on the ground. Tango blinked to look at Etho again, trying to hold on to what was left of his resolve. 

“Fine, then.” Tango purposefully ignored the way his voice wavered and he hoped Etho did too. “Show me what you got.” 

****

Somehow, Etho knew exactly where to go when heading to the Deep Dark. Not once did he turn around or hit a dead end; he kept going, as if the directions were seared into his mind.  He was so confident, it was both impressive and suspicious.

“How do you even know where to go?” Tango asked, as he set up a ladder for them to return to the surface later.

“I stumbled across the Deep Dark at one point while I was mining,” Etho said. “I figured I’d save the location, in case I felt like doing something… Well, crazy.”

Tango raised a brow. “Really… Sounds like a task to me.”

“Does it, now?” Etho turned to look at Tango again, the fabric of his mask twitching as he smiled underneath it. “Why don’t you guess what it is?” The question came out a soft, tender whisper that faintly echoed off the cobblestone walls.

Tango sucked in a breath.

Fuck.

That was the only way to summarize Tango’s racing mind: Fuck.

He was green so he couldn’t guess—both he and Etho were aware of that. But even if he wasn’t, would he want to guess? Absolutely not. 

Etho came to Tango, wanting him to see Etho bring the Warden up. And Etho wanted to make Tango proud and not disappoint him. The thought of it made Tango giddy and his stomach swarmed with butterflies. However, in the very back of his mind, a condescending voice hissed at him: This is only a task. He doesn’t really mean what he says. He wasn’t going to listen to that voice. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t having doubts.

“Tango?” Etho’s voice brought Tango back to Earth. “Tango, you good? You’ve been staring at me for a while… Are you thinking about what you want to guess?”

Tango slowly shook his head, swallowing thickly. “No… No, I’m not going to guess,” he responded slowly. “You know that I can’t guess either way, I’m still green!”

“Fair, fair. But if you had to guess, what would you say?” Etho asked, as he went back to digging.

“I don’t know, you have to bring the Warden up to the surface and make sure it kills someone? You do have a hard task and it’s not like this”—Tango gestured randomly— “is a piece of cake.”

It was time to summon the Warden.

Etho sighed. “That’s not it. If only it were that simple—” Sculk coated Etho’s pickaxe and the stone that he had mined. He raised a brow, shaking the sculk from his pickaxe. “Well… Maybe this’ll be easier than we thought.” He made a larger hole for Tango and himself, and the two of them crawled into the Deep Dark.

As expected, it was pitch black, the only light coming from Tango’s tail. Sculk was everywhere, creating web-like patterns on the ground and crawling up their legs. There were some shriekers visible, along with sculk sensors that were barely obscured by its surroundings. They swayed slowly in the distance, similar to how kelp does underwater. Tango took a deep breath, heart pounding against his ribcage. He met Etho’s gaze and they nodded in sync.

But before Tango could leap down, Etho gently grabbed his sleeve. “Are you going to be okay?” 

“Huh? Why?”

“We’ll need the water elevator.”

“Oh. Right…” Tango grimaced a bit at the thought. He couldn't take damage from water but it didn't make swimming any less unpleasant.

“We could also make stairs,” Etho suggested, “if that makes you more comfortable.”

“What, and risk getting stuck and dying to the warden? I don't want that happening to either of us. I'll…” Tango took a deep breath. “I'll take my chances with the water.”

“Are– are you sure?” Etho asked hesitantly. His concern was very touching, Tango has to admit. But the water was far less risky than the stairs. 

“I'm positive.” Tango smiled. “But, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Of course. Why wouldn't I? Now c'mon, let's go.” Etho leaped down from the ledge he made and crouched down. But Tango still sat there, Etho’s sincere words looking in his mind.

Why wouldn't I?

That was a good question, why wouldn't Etho worry about him? Tango couldn't even say he hated Etho, though they'd had their differences in previous games. Tango didn't know if he loved Etho either but, with how eager he is to spend time with Etho, it was becoming more and more obvious.

“Tango!” Etho whisper-shouted. “You coming?”

“Yeah- Yeah, hold on.” Tango leaped down, one of the sensors picking up on his movement. Thankfully, the shrieker didn’t set off prematurely. They lurked closer to a shrieker, like wolves stalking a sheep. Only they knew that the sheep could strike anytime. He met Etho’s gaze and nodded, communicating with his eyes. I’ll watch your back.

The ground cracked. A dark claw emerged from the fragmented sculk, followed by a low growl. Etho whipped his head towards Tango, handing him a water bucket and making sure none of it spilled. “Get up the ladder- pour down the water when you reach the top.”

Etho understood instantly and went closer to a sensor, making a swift movement.

The shrieker activated in sync with the sensor, the wail bouncing off the walls. Once it faded away, there was tranquility for a moment. They knew very well that the calm wasn’t permanent.

Tango nodded, holding the bucket with one hand and climbing the ladder with another. He shouldn’t have been worried about Etho; he was essentially an expert at this and was already on his way to winning Decked Out. But still, there was a lingering fear that Tango just couldn’t shake off. Maybe it was the nature of this game. If Etho were to get hit—which Tango doubted would happen—he couldn’t recover easily. And if Etho died, it’d set their progress back. Tango knew Etho was strong. Strong, quick-witted, charming, sensible… For goodness’ sake, Tango, this was a life-or-death situation, it was not the time to fawn over Etho.

Tango could feel the ladder shake underneath him, the heavy footsteps of the warden sending shivers up his spine. He knew Etho could avoid the warden but he didn’t want to delay him. The moment he reached the top, Tango took his bucket and poured it down, creating an elevator for Etho to go up. Tango leaned over the edge, eyes wide with anticipation. “Please, come up all in one piece,” he murmured under his breath, despite his confidence in Etho’s skill.

Suddenly, there was an explosion. 

It was mostly muffled but still loud enough to make Tango jump. And it sounded like it came from underground.

Tango physically felt his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. No, no, no, no, no, please don’t let Etho be dead. Etho was only green but the thought of him dying made Tango sick with dread. He pulled out his communicator, frantically looking through the names, and-

He was honestly torn between sighing in relief and continuing to hold his breath.

Good news: Etho didn’t die. Bad news: Lizzie did. And Tango felt incredibly bad, especially since she’d be alone the entire game. 

 In the water, he saw a figure slowly rise to the surface and heard a low growl from below. Etho’s head popped out of the water, brushing his soaked hair back (which wasn’t hot at all, thank you very much!) and swiftly climbed out. “Warden- warden’s on its way. Stay close to me, I don’t want to lose you.”

Tango nodded, tail flicking behind him. The warden crawled out of the water, outstretching his limbs as its tendrils clicked. Tango felt Etho grab onto his wrist and pull him away, paying attention to make sure the Warden was following them. “We’re bringing him to spawn,” Etho murmured against Tango’s ear, his breath lightly tickling his skin. Tango’s own breath hitched but he still managed to nod. “By the way… What was that explosion sound?”

“Lizzie. She died.”

Etho winced a bit, some remorse flickering in his eyes. “Oh, gosh… That really sucks. We probably should’ve gone to her party, huh?”

Tango nodded solemnly. “Yup. But hey, we can make it up to her after the game ends! That’s the least we could do right?”

Etho chuckled a bit. “Ah, Tango, you’re always so thoughtful.”

Tango beamed proudly. “I try to be!” 

The warden was right on their heels, stumbling about and flailing its arms around. Somehow, Tango and Etho didn’t run into anybody for a long while. The moon was high in the star-speckled sky, shining down ominously as if it knew the chaos that would follow. Eventually, they saw Grian talking to Scar. Grian saw Tango, Etho and the warden waddling behind them, a mischievous smirk on his face. He was hugging something black to his chest and- wait, was that a wither skull?

Tango blinked several times, trying to make sure that he was seeing properly. What was that pesky bird planning? BigB, who had just approached Scar and Grian, seemed to notice what Tango and Etho were planning because his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. When Scar turned around and saw the warden, he was so startled he was pushing back on his wheelchair.

“Etho! Is this- is this central enough?” Grian asked, trying to stifle laughter from Scar’s reaction. He moved closer to the firepit, setting up soul-sand in a very suspicious position.

“Wh- Grian, what are you doing?!” Scar asked, having now noticed the wither skulls that Grian was holding. Scar scrambled to take the skulls from Grian before he placed them down but Grian was too feisty to let go. Tango watched the spectacle, eyes wide. He then turned to Etho, who had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Clearly, there was much more than he was letting on.

“Wait, Etho, did you know about—?” 

Tango was interrupted by a loud, raspy hiss, as a wither emerged from the soul sand, growing in size and flying into the sky, obscuring the moon. There was absolute chaos. The warden had stopped following Etho and Tango and went to chase the next player it detected, wither skulls rained down from the sky, and everyone was screeching “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” at the instigators.

Grian had the largest shit-eating grin on his face and Etho definitely had a similar expression under his mask. Tango, on the other hand, was biting his lip to keep himself from mirroring that expression. He should have been more scared by the wither but he really wasn’t. Partially because he was so close to Etho and that mattered more than anything. 

Mumbo and Jimmy seemed to be running towards the warden rather than away from it and they because of it. The sonic boom rang in Tango’s ears, in synchrony with the lighting that struck. First Jimmy, then Mumbo right after. The flash made Tango’s heart jump but Etho remained completely calm. 

“Where’s the wither?” Tango asked, running alongside Etho.

“Guys- guys, please.” Scar, in his wheelchair and somehow outpacing the wither, rolled up next to Etho and Tango, scared shitless. “Please, do- do you want to give me a hand?” The skulls rained down behind the trio like a meteor shower, plummeting into the Earth and creating rather large holes. The grass and the flowers began to wilt, shriveling up and dying as the skull drained the life out of them. “Please- I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with this—” 

Before Etho or Tango could respond, the two of them fell into a pit that Scar narrowly avoided. Scar went back to being chased by the wither, begging for others to come out and help him, by leading the wither directly into their bases. Honestly, the fact that Scar was able to avoid the wither for this long was incredibly impressive. 

Tango groaned a bit, bringing his hand up to his hair, accidentally elbowing Etho’s chin in the process. “Oh, sorry, I-” He immediately shut up when he noticed the position they were in. Etho was directly on top of Tango, nearly laying on his chest. Etho’s eyes were piercing through Tango’s, as if he wanted to read his soul. And Tango couldn’t help but wonder, would Etho know how Tango feels about him? 

Tango didn’t really want to get out of this position. And, since Etho didn’t move, neither did he. Their bodies were flush against each other, and Etho’s face was so close, his white hair was brushing against Tango’s skin. The mask slipped off of Etho’s face and-- if he lowered himself any more, their lips would be touching—

Oh, void, the realization that he was so close to kissing Etho made Tango’s face bloom bright red.

“Tango.” Etho’s voice was a hushed whisper and, to anyone else, it would’ve been completely muffled by the wither’s explosions. But Tango kept all of his focus fixated on the man who was laying on top of him, ignoring the wither and the world that was falling apart around them. And it was all because Etho was here, his world was right here. “I didn’t let you down, I hope.”

“Never,” Tango gasped instantly. “You could never let me down.”

Etho chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that.”And then he leaned in, closer and closer and closer until it was finally enough. His lips were warm against Tango’s, and it made him melt almost instantly. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for this forever. Tango’s hand snaked up into Etho’s hair and oh goodness, it was so soft. 

“Etho- Etho, the wither killed the warden!” 

“Etho, stop making out with Tango, and come press the damn button!”

Grian was shouting at them from… somewhere. But they were too busy to care.

 Tango, dizzy from suffocation, reluctantly pushed Etho off of him. “Gah… I had a feeling that part of this was part of a task.”

“Well… Not the part where I asked you to come with me,” Etho murmured. “I did that voluntarily. I was serious when I said I wanted to impress you.”

Tango couldn't stop the giggles climbing up his throat, a large smile on his face. “You did, Etho, you really did!”

“Are you talking about my warden wrangling, or the kissing?”

“... Yes.” Tango smirked. “I'm not going to elaborate. Go press that button!”

Etho nodded, lightly kissing Tango on the cheek, putting his mask on and leaving with Grian to the Secret Keeper. Tango lay there in the withered grass, hands on his cheeks and grinning. Nothing could ruin the happiness and satisfaction he felt at this moment.

… Not even the fact that Tango forgot to complete his own task. 

He'd make it up next session. But now he just wanted to make out with Etho for the rest of this session.

[ynit-a]

𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐂 𝟕 | jkk

orphic | jjk x m!oc

𝟕 | 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

"Hold on to hope, even if it’s just a threat.

The sun filtered its weak rays through the blinds of the small hospital room, softly illuminating the white walls that had been Soren's prison for the past few days. He felt trapped in this place, with the constant hum of the machines around him, as if time had stopped. He had woken up in the middle of chaos, his mind a knot of questions that kept spinning in his head. But in the last few hours, there had been a strange silence inside him, a forced calm that he couldn't quite understand.

Shoko Ieiri, the woman who had been monitoring him since he arrived, had told him that he could leave. His physical wounds were healed, although she couldn't say the same about his mind. He was still processing everything that had happened and what, apparently, was to come. However, before he could even get out of bed, the door swung open, revealing a tall, relaxed figure that Soren had only seen in dreams or blurry flashes during the chaos of that night.

—Ah, you're awake now. Perfect! Good morning, sleeping beauty!— Gojo Satoru, the white-haired man, with his characteristic black blindfold covering his eyes, entered the room with a carefree smile—. Not so fast, where do you think you're going?

Soren, about to get up, froze in place. His mind, still in disarray, threw him a flurry of questions that he couldn't contain. —What's going on? —was the first thing that came out of his mouth, with a mix of confusion and frustration.

Gojo leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he let out a light laugh.

—Well, you got hit by a rather ugly creature and ended up in this cozy hospital —he said with humor, as if it was nothing more than a joke. Soren looked at him in disbelief. Everything he was experiencing was confusing, surreal. The way Gojo spoke, so relaxed and carefree, made him question the seriousness of what had really happened. Was it all a joke to this guy?

—That doesn’t help me— Soren growled, feeling frustration bubbling up inside him.—What was that thing? And what happened to me?

Gojo sighed, but kept his smile. He walked over to Soren’s bed, motioning with a finger for him to stay still, as if he were a restless child.

—Okay, okay, I’ll explain. But first, I need you to relax. I don’t want you to unleash that storm of energy again that nearly destroyed this room the last time you got worked up.

Soren frowned, confused. Energy? What the hell did that mean?

—Let’s see… the basics, first, my name is Gojo Satoru…— Gojo began, as he settled into a nearby chair.—…second, the creature that attacked you was a curse. And you, my young friend, have what we call cursed energy inside you.— You haven’t had control over it, which has caused those things, the curses, to be stalking you for so long.

The words hit Soren like a ton of bricks. His entire life had been a series of bewildering moments—the constant feeling of being watched, of being surrounded by shadows he never quite understood. And now, suddenly, it all made sense. But it wasn’t the kind of sense that offered you relief, but one that led you into an abyss of more questions and fears.

—So… this is all my fault?— he asked, his voice cracking with confusion and guilt.

Gojo watched him closely, noticing how Soren's cursed energy was beginning to stir again, rippling around him as if the air itself was vibrating. Frustration, fear, and guilt were fueling that energy, making the air feel stifling.

—Hey, calm down,— Gojo said, raising a hand in a calming gesture.— It's not your fault. You didn't know what was happening, and you had no control over it. But now that you understand, we can work on it.

Soren clenched his fists, feeling the weight of those words. The energy inside him continued to roar, now the walls were beginning to crack, as if he couldn't contain the energy radiating from Soren, as if something inside him was about to explode.

Gojo looked at him more seriously this time, noticing the intensity of what was happening.

— Hey, look at this,— he said suddenly, pulling a packet of candy out of his pocket. —Want one?— It always helps when things feel too complicated. A little sugar will clear your mind.

Soren looked at him like he was crazy. — I don’t like sweets,— he replied automatically, with a grimace.

Gojo let out a laugh. — That explains a lot. People who don’t enjoy sweets are usually the most bitter. You should change that, improve your perspective— he mocked, popping one of the candies into his mouth.

Soren let out a sarcastic laugh. —Oh, right. Maybe I should start fighting monsters with the power of sugar. Soren frowned, but couldn’t help the slight hint of humor crossing his face. The tension he felt began to lessen, though there was still that weight on his chest.

—Look, I know this is all a lot— Gojo continued, his tone softer now. —But what you need now is to learn to trust. Trust me. What happened to you is not something we can’t handle together. I’ve seen what you can do, even if you don’t fully understand it yet. You have great potential, Soren. And I want to help you control it.

Soren looked into his eyes, or rather, into the blindfold covering his eyes. There was something about the way Gojo spoke, his relaxed confidence, that made him want to trust. He wanted to trust someone who was like him, someone who understood what was going on inside him, even if Soren himself didn’t fully understand it. —Okay,— Soren said finally, his voice firmer than he expected. —I’ll trust you.

Gojo smiled widely, as if that answer had been what he had expected all along.

—Good, because I have news for you,— Gojo said, rising from his chair as he gave a few light claps. —You’re going to join Jujutsu Tech school. Once you’re fully recovered, that is. There you’ll learn to control your cursed energy, to use it to fight, to protect yourself. Everything you've been through so far… is just the beginning.

Soren nodded, still processing what that meant. School for cursed energy. Curses.

It was like his world had suddenly been ripped out of a fantasy book. But for the first time in days, he felt a spark of something else inside him. Hope.

—Until then,— Gojo added, tossing him a candy, —you’ll stay here, in these white walls. But don’t worry, I’ll visit you from time to time. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll bring you something more interesting than candy.

Soren caught the candy in midair, though he had no intention of eating it. But he couldn’t help but smile a little at Gojo’s words. There was something about his energy, about his presence, that gave him a strange sense of security. As if, for the first time, he wasn’t completely alone in this.

Gojo left the room as nonchalantly as he had entered, leaving him alone once again. This time, however, the silence didn't feel as suffocating. Soren lay back in bed, staring at the white ceiling, and for the first time since the chaos he'd just experienced, he felt like maybe, just maybe, there was something more waiting for him.

Something more than just darkness.

Alr so i’ll be starting midterms soon, so I will guve you two chapters this week, i’m excited because i alr wrote three chapters of act theee and ended act so…woohoo😔

This story with more graphics is on wattpad, go check it out if you want!

Wattpad: ynit_a

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[insert-witty-user-name-here]

To Stay

Humbly offering my 1 exclusively Lokius smut to the fandom. Heavy on the feelings as is my vibe.

Set immediately after season 2, episode 1. Loki and Mobius need to take a temporal radiation decontamination shower.

“There’s, uh, only one decontamination shower,” Mobius explains, nodding towards a room on their right. “You should go first. You got hit with a lot more of that temporal radiation than I did, especially since you weren’t wearing a suit.”

Loki smiles at the protective bite barely hidden beneath Mobius’ words. They’d fought about this earlier—right before Mobius had kissed him.

They haven’t had a chance to talk about it since.

Loki hopes they do now.

“And don’t try to tell me you’re a god and it didn’t affect you,” Mobius continues. “Temporal radiation affects everyone. No, you need to shower first. Don’t even think about arguing about this. Who knows what-”

“Ugh, on and on about the dangers of temporal radiation,” Loki huffs. “Why don’t we just use the shower together?”

The words are out of Loki’s mouth before he has a chance to think about them. He had only meant to interrupt Mobius’ incessant worrying, but now the implication hangs heavy between them.

Loki gulps and coughs awkwardly. “You’re freezing,” he points out. “And I don’t think you were supposed to take that much radiation either. OB might remain convinced about this ‘all powerful duct tape,’ but I am not.”

His stomach flips at the thought of what might have happened if Mobius had stayed on the gangway a second longer; if Loki hadn’t been able to find his way back. He shakes his head against the thought. That future didn’t happen; it would never happen. He has seen a future without Mobius by his side and it is unbearable. Now that he has found his way back, he isn’t letting go.

Loki closes the distance between them and takes Mobius’ hand in his.  “And I don’t want to be alone.” He tightens his grip around Mobius’ hand, eyes pleading. “Please.”

His last word is barely more than a whisper and yet it shatters the silence with the force of all the timelines exploding at once.

Mobius’ lips crash into Loki’s. 

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[scullysexual]

fictober day 5 | m | this list | ao3 | @today-in-fic | @xffictober2023

She can feel the heat radiating from him, smell his unique scent. The sight of him, even in the dim light, has her brain all woozy. She’s never even done this before. The first touch of her lips to his cock has a sigh escaping his lips. [Scully gives Mulder a blowjob]

Day 5: Oral.

The bed creeks under the weight of Scully’s body as she slides herself beneath the covers.

Mulder dozes next to her, his face all contorted. Even in sleep he can’t seem to catch a break.

Scully gently drags her fingers across his face, attempting to soothe the worry lines. He sighs, awakening.

“Hey,” she says when he looks up at her.

“Hey,” he answers back.

“You okay?” Her hands comb through his hair and Mulder closes his eyes.

“Better now you’re here.” He reopens his eyes. “I just want to forget about this day.”

Her heart aches. “Me, too,” she whispers. Then an idea strikes her. She starts to move away.

“Where are you going?” Mulder asks, worry evident on his voice as he reaches out to grab her, stop her.

Scully can only smile. “Nowhere,” she says simply. “Lay on your back.”

He does so as Scully situates herself near his hips. Her hands reach forward grabbing the waistband of his boxers. Mulder sits up immediately.

“You don’t need to do that,” he says.

“You don’t want me too?” She moves her hands away, waiting for his consent.

The smile he gives her makes her feel a little wild. He shakes his head.

“I want you to more than anything but—”

All the permission she needed, Scully gently pushes on his shoulders in an attempt to make him lay down again.

“Then let me,” she says with a whisper.

Mulder lays back down, shifting to get comfortable as Scully resumes her earlier position, pulling him free.

She can feel the heat radiating from him, smell his unique scent. The sight of him, even in the dim light, has her brain all woozy. She’s never even done this before.

The first touch of her lips to his cock has a sigh escaping his lips.

“Oh, Scully…” he moans and Scully feeds off of it, she wants to hear it again.

She learns his dick with his lips and then her tongue. Tongues the ridge just below his head. Listens to the sighs and moans that fall from his mouth- the occasional swear word when she hits a particularly good bit. Her own wetness is sticky between her legs by the time she takes him fully into her mouth.

She wants to try deep-throating him but she’s never taken anyone his size before. To gag on him and ruin this moment just didn’t appeal to her.

Scully opts for the safer option- not that Mulder seems to mind- lost in some blissful pleasure world. With her mouth she goes as far as she feels safe to, her hand wrapping around his base and covering the rest.

It stays like that for some time. Scully finds a rhythm that works for them both. Mulder’s moans become louder until there’s the feel of his hand in her hair and the gentlest tug known to humans.

“I’m close,” he says.

She has two options: Option 1- she jerks off. Option 2- she lets him come in her mouth.

She had never let anyone come in her mouth before. The act just felt gross and unhygienic no matter who was it. Yet with Mulder, it just felt right.

Going with option 2, Scully makes no effort to pull away or stop what she is doing.

“Scully…” Mulder warns.

She can feel him holding himself back. His eyes are dark when they make contact and she just hopes to God her message her clear.

You can come in my mouth.

He explodes. Her name and a string of fucks bellowing out from his mouth. She swallows all of him, her hand still jerking away, getting every last drop.

“Fuck, Scully…” he says again, breathless.

Scully wipes her mouth, grinning as she crawls back up to him. His arms wrap around her, tucking her against him.

“That was incredible,” he says.

“Did it work? Did you forget?”

He chuckles. “Oh yeah, I definitely forgot.”

“Good.”

“But what about you?” he’s saying, already pushing her onto her back. “You need—”

“It’s okay,” says Scully, a blush starts spreading over her. “I came too.” A post orgasmic tremor ripples through her folds.

“You…” Mulder says in awe. “Fuck, Scully!”

He is kissing her then, hard and Scully laughs against his mouth.

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

The blush grows hotter but she’s still proud of herself.

“So I’ve been told.”

[thegreatcaptainusopp]

The Seer

Ao3 Link

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Chapter 9: A Wolf Among the People

Luffy has had enough.

He’s had enough for weeks now. From the moment that Usopp slipped out of his grasp to the time it took to get him back to the second he’d heard about Ace.

This adventure that they’re on? There’s rules to this. There’s danger, yes, but it’s danger they seek, danger they run into. Danger that helps them achieve their dreams.

This? This is the opposite. This is a danger that hurt Usopp in ways that he can’t fix. This is a danger that was led by cowardice, true cowardice, and is in their way.

Everybody else did their very best to get Luffy here. And they’re relying on him to finish this.

That’s it, he thinks, clenching his fist. We’re done. No more.

Usopp is sitting to the side, hands slowly creeping up to Hat. Luffy can’t help but smile at him, even if Usopp can’t see it right now.

“You’ll take it from here?”

Luffy feels the smile drop from his face. He turns back to the large man in front of him, the man who radiates anger and violence, but also fear, thanks to Usopp

And that’s all that he needs.

He cracks his knuckles. “Yeah,” He says. “I hope you’re ready for me to beat you up.”

The man frowns. His Haki wavers.

Luffy winds back a punch “Gum-Gum-”

The Haki explodes back into existence. “I don’t think so.”

Luffy, caught off guard, misses the punch. Vance lunges forward, but not towards him. Instead, he swerves to the side, aiming towards Usopp.

“No!” Luffy yells, twisting into a new direction. “Usopp!”

Usopp jumps at the shout of his name, then quickly starts scrambling back, arms shaking with the effort. He trips over his hands and falls over onto his back.

Vance pulls out a knife from his belt, aims, gets closer…

Luffy slams his way right in front of Usopp, catching the knife in his shoulder. “Stop,” He hisses, teeth clenched. “You’re fighting me.”

Vance’s eyes widen, and he quickly backs up, tugging at the knife in Luffy’s arm.

Luffy feels a feral grin spread across his face. He hold on to the knife, sliding it in further. “No,” He says. “You don’t get this back.”

Vance tugs harder. Luffy grunts in response.

“Luffy?” He hears Usopp ask, terrified. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Usopp,” Luffy says, eyes not leaving Vance. “Just about to fight properly is all.”

And with that, he winds up a quick fist and pummels Vance across the face.

He goes flying back the ship instantly, landing on the deck and skidding across. Luffy lets out a laugh.

He moves back to Usopp. “Hey, Usopp,” He says, pulling the knife out of his shoulder. “Here.”

He grabs Usopp’s hand, putting the knife handle in it and curling his fingers around it.

“Hey,” Usopp says, hands gripping the handle. “This is-”

Luffy gets back up, walking towards Vance, who’s getting back on his feet. “You ready to fight yet?” He asks.

He’s ready for the wave of Haki this time.

He grits his teeth against the prickling feeling of power, throwing both fists at the same time towards Vance. He’ll knock him off the ship if he has to. “Gum gum…”

“Ranger!” Vance yells as Luffy flies closer, almost there…

The moment before his fists make contact, he hits something hard and sharp, and hisses as it cuts into his fists.

He hears Zoro shout in protest behind him before looking up to see the red haired crew member with the invisible weapon. “You okay, Cap?” The man says.

He moves his arms, and Luffy feels himself get pushed back by whatever it is the man is holding. He stumbles back, trying to get back on his feet. “Hey!” He snaps again. “It’s just us fighting. Don’t bring anyone else into it!”

Vance ignores him. “Aim to kill,” He reminds the man.

“Get back here!” Zoro roars behind them.

Luffy glances up at the ships slowly disappearing in the distance. They don’t have time for this.

He kneels, putting a fist to the floor. “Gear Second!”

“Whoa!” The red haired man says, stepping back. “What the-”

“Let’s finish this,” Luffy says, over the howling wind and waves of power over his body. “Fight me.”

He moves, quick as he can, jumping over the crew member and aiming directly at Vance’s head…

The next moment, his view of Vance’s head vanishes, replaced with the shocked face of the red haired crew member, mouth open in surprise…

Luffy connects, hitting a superpower fist directly in the man’s chest. He hears a crack as the man flies back across the ship and collapses on the floor. A large scythe materializes like it was dropped out of nowhere right next to Vance.

He doesn’t get back up.

“Shame,” Vance says. His eyes are dry, his voice echoing vague regret. “Well. It’s one devil fruit down, in the end.”

Luffy’s body follows through on the movement, and he whirls around to face Vance again. He breathes hard, eyes widening. “Your crew member?” He asks, almost disbelieving. “What did you do?”

“They knew the risks,” Vance says, backing up. He sounds confident again, and Luffy feels another, stronger wave of Haki. “They knew of this possibility of dying for the cause.”

Luffy hears a scream of disbelief somewhere at the back of the ship. “Ranger!”

Luffy looks down, letting his hair flop over his eyes. “You coward,” He hisses. “You coward!”

He lunges forward, fist out again. Vance stumbles back, pulling a gun out of his belt. He aims a little bit behind Luffy, fingers moving towards the trigger.

Luffy swallows a shout, moving backwards again. His head swivels in the direction of Vance’s aim, seeing Zoro run up towards them and directly into the line of fire.

“Zoro!” Luffy yells, throwing himself back. He blows his body up into a ball, right before the bullet hits the side of his ballooned stomach. It harmlessly bounces off the rubber and rolls off on the ship’s deck.

Luffy deflates back into his usual shape. “What are you doing?” He says, voice rising in disbelief. “Why are you even fighting if you aren’t willing to do it yourself? Why even have crew members if you’re going to use them as shields? What do you even want?”

His eyes dart back up towards the departing ships, getting smaller on the horizon.

Vance follows his eyes. A grim smile spreads over his face. “You’re on a time limit, are you?” He asks. “So, all I’d need to do is stall you here, am I right? And then you lose?”

Luffy feels something prickle at the back of his head. “What?” He asks.

“Well,” Vance says, moving back. There’s a new confidence to his stride. “Here’s the difference between you and I. I am willing to sacrifice anything for my convictions, even my crew. You, on the other hand? You’re unwilling to let them even be hurt, despite the fact that you’re doing…whatever it is you’re doing there. If you allow yourself to sacrifice, you would be able to beat me. But you won’t, so you can’t. And we’ll be stuck here, while you slowly get more and more desperate and the ships get further and further away, and that’s when you’ll make a mistake. And then,” and now Vance grins. “I win.”

Luffy grits his teeth, the prickle in his head pushing hard now. He sees Ace’s face in his mind, smiling up at him.

It won’t happen. He won’t let it.

“No!” Luffy says, but it sounds weird coming from his mouth: all echoey and strange, like it’s not really coming from him.

He sees Vance stumble back. His gun flies out of his hand like he’s been hit, but Luffy hasn’t moved. “What…” He says, and his face has gone pale. “How…”

He hears Zoro whoop behind him.

“Luffy!” He hears Usopp yell. “Was that you? That felt like you. You got Haki?”

Luffy looks down at his hands. “Wha?” He asks, nonplussed. The prickly feeling disappears from his head.

Sudden, cackling laughter fills the air. Luffy turns back to see Vance, hand on his stomach, laughing so hard he gasps for breath.

Luffy frowns. “What’s so funny?”

Vance takes several more gasping laughs. “You too?” He asks. “You too. You have it too. Devil fruit and power. You have both. You’re an abomination.”

Luffy’s brow furrows. He glances at the departing ships again.

The laughing dies out. “No matter,” Vance says, muttering to himself. “No matter. The mission. I will still continue the mission. No matter what.”

They don’t have time for this. “Okay,” Luffy says simply, drawing his fist back again. “If you want to fight me, go ahead.”

“Katherine!” Vance yells, and Luffy tenses.

Nothing happens.

Vance frowns. “Katherine?” He calls again, tone rising in confusion.

Luffy feels a series of poofs, followed by Chopper’s gasp. The female crew member stumbles towards the Captain, shaking, then stops. Chopper runs in after her, joining Zoro near Luffy’s back.

“Katherine!” Vance says again angrily.

Katherine looks up, tears running down her face. She doesn’t move.

Vance’s face turns red, nostrils flaring. “So,” He says, voice icy cold. “You’ve abandoned the cause.”

Katherine takes a shaky breath, but she doesn’t respond.

There’s a shout elsewhere on the ship, and the first mate shows up, his arm dark and shiny. Sanji follows, swearing all the way.

“In that case,” Vance leans down to pick up his crewmate’s now visible scythe. “I believe that that’s another devil fruit we can be rid of…”

He lifts the scythe, aiming towards Katherine. She stays in place, shaking, but unmoving.

Vance has left himself wide open, and Luffy’s going to take advantage.

He leaps, running towards Vance, arms out, Gear Second ruffling through his air, and blocks the scythe just as Zoro barks “Wait, Luffy, don’t…”

Vance lets out a bark of laughter, and Luffy feels the hook of the scythe hit his neck, and his body instantly goes weak.

“Ranger’s blade is made of seastone,” He hears through the beating of his heart. “Can’t catch devil fruit users if you don’t have the weapons for them. Isn’t it funny, he could’ve been injured in a second if he held his weapon wrong.”

Oh, Luffy thinks, before hearing a very familiar “Hey!”

-

Usopp has absolutely no idea what’s going on.

After Luffy had pressed a knife in his hands and vanished, all Usopp could do was sit there, clutching at the knife to give him a sense of security and hoping that what they have is enough to win.

He thinks that if Luffy can take Vance down, the rest will follow. And hopefully, he has enough ammunition to make that happen.

There’s too much going on to make sense of: if he strains his ears, he can hear the puffs of smoke that signal Chopper’s fight, the swearing that signals Sanji’s, the clang of weaponry that signals Zoro’s. But he doesn’t know more than that, doesn’t think there’s a way that he can know more than that.

All he can do now is make sure that he doesn’t get in the way.

With that, he feels around in his belt for a free space and tucks the knife there, next to the Kabuto. He slowly drags himself backwards, feeling around as he goes, and then pauses when he hears Vance call for Ranger. He hovers there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before Katherine screams Ranger’s name. Luffy’s aghast reaction makes it pretty clear what just happened.

Usopp clenches his jaw, then forces himself to keep going. He’d known Vance was dedicated to his mission, but the level he’d stooped to…he is far gone, now. Too far gone. It has to end now.

Vance is speaking now, and he’s clearly gone off the edge now. It’s the scariest he’s ever sounded, and Usopp wishes desperately he could see what was happening…

The Haki feeling hits him again, and he freezes in places. But…it’s different now, somehow, less painful, more familiar…

Oh. No way.

“Luffy!” He yells. “Was that you? That felt like you. You got Haki?”

He hears a clear approving reaction, and he shakes his head. Of course Luffy has Conqueror’s. Who else was better suited for it? Oh, this is probably making Vance crazy. He should probably move back further, just in ca-

Usopp’s hand hits something, which makes him jump. Pausing, he grasps at the object, turning it over in his hands.

It’s a gun, and that’s enough to make him nervous. A voice, barely remembered, floats into his mind. You point this at something, A large hand presses a gun into a smaller one. It means you’re going to shoot. This weapon kills. You use it, you need to be ready to kill.

Guns have never been for him. He’d rather not kill, if he can help it.

He handles the gun carefully, running a finger around it until he’s figured out its dimensions. Okay, he thinks grimly, carefully moving it into his belt. Get this out of the way.

Usopp pauses when Vance yells Katherine’s name. He feels a coldness settle in his stomach. Maybe. He thinks frantically, diving into the darkness of his own head. Maybe I can stop this. Maybe.

He’d been able to sense attacks before they happened. That had to count for something, right? He had to be able to control that, right?

But Katherine had beat him to it, and presumably hadn’t followed Vance’s demands. Usopp, shocked by this turn of events, didn’t react until he heard Zoro’s yell of “Wait, Luffy, don’t…”

That gets him on his feet before he knew he was moving.

He takes a frantic couple steps forward before he hears a booming laugh. “Feeling weak?”

Luffy grunts, but says nothing.

“Ranger’s blade is made of seastone,” Vance says, and Usopp’s pulse races. “Can’t catch devil fruit users if you don’t have the weapons for them. Isn’t it funny, he could’ve been injured in a second if he held his weapon wrong.”

Come on, Usopp chants to himself, trying to reach for the place in his head with the stories. Come on. Come on. Come on.

There.

Something flickers, and it has to be enough. They’re out of time.

Even though it wants to make him run away and hide forever, Usopp speaks. “Hey!” He snaps, voice wavering slightly.

He practically feels the weight of Vance’s gaze fall on him. “Usopp,” he says, popping the final p in his name. “Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Let him go,” Usopp says. He feels around for his Kabuto, then grabs it from his belt. “Now.”

Vance laughs again. “Well,” He says. “What are you going to do, then? What are you going to do with that?”

Usopp makes to lift the Kabuto, then pauses.

Ammo. He doesn’t have any ammo.

Vance’s crew had taken his bag from him ages ago, when he’d first been captured. He’d never gotten it back.

Shit.

Slowly, he puts the Kabuto back in his belt.

“That’s what I thought,” Vance says, amused. “So. It appears we find ourselves at a standoff, no? One wrong move, and I kill your Captain here.”

He hears Zoro growl at that, deep in his throat.

“I’m a generous man,” Vance says. “I’ll offer you a deal. I show your Captain and crewmates here our…hospitality. The kind that you experienced whilst you were with us. In return, you come back with me, and we continue on our journey. We can come to an understanding of how to proceed with your crewmates from there. How does that sound?”

“Usopp,” Luffy’s voice rings out: calm, sure. “Don’t-”

“Shut up,” Vance says, and Usopp hears everyone react viscerally to whatever he did.

“We’ll kill you,” Sanji says simply. “You’re dead.”

“Now, now,” Vance says. “Don’t lose your cool. So, Usopp. What’ll it be? Last chance.”

Usopp is sick and tired of last chances.

He roots around in his belt more, hand hitting the gun. He pauses, flexing his fingers around the grip.

“Offer won’t last long,” Vance says. “If you don’t agree, you’ll be on the kill list too, I’m afraid.”

This weapon kills.

Usopp steels himself, then pulls the gun out of his belt. “What do you think?” He asks, pointing it in Vance’s general direction. “How many times do I have to say no?”

At the same moment, he accesses the story space in his brain. He’s not desperate, not scared. He’s determined, focused. This will work because it has to.

And….there.

Something in his brain clicks, and everything changes.

He can’t see, not really. Not ever. But he can sense. He knows where he is, how he’s standing in relation to the ship as a whole. He knows where Zoro is, Sanji, Chopper. He knows they’re all looking at him, radiating trust. He knows where Vance is standing with a scythe to Luffy’s next.

Oh. He thinks. This is it.

Vance is about to laugh, and he does. “Is that your final answer?” He asks.

“Yes,” Usopp says. He adjusts the gun in his hand, perfects the direction. “Is that yours?”

“Excuse me?” Vance asks.

“You still have a chance,” Usopp says. “Let him go, and we give you the same deal you just offered us.”

Vance laughs again. “You’d take the risk?” He asks. “You’re shooting blind. You’d risk hitting your Captain? Or any of your other crew members?”

“I’m shooting blind,” Usopp says, a thrill running through his stomach at the words, at the lie. Vance can’t tell. He doesn’t know. “But you know what? My crew trust in me. I’ll make the shot.”

“Trust is not enough,” Vance says. “People are changeable. Ideas…ideas are not.”

“Maybe not,” Usopp says. One final correction. “But it’s enough for me anyway.”

There. Now, he’s ready.

Vance shifts slightly, moving Luffy with him. “Right,” He says, “If that’s the case-”

“Stop!” Usopp says. He feels something pulse in his head at the word. “Don’t move.”

He adjusts again.

There’s a tense pause.

“How did you know…” Vance says. “You said you were shooting blind.”

You use it, you need to be ready to kill.

“Yeah, well,” Usopp says. “I lied.”

He pulls the trigger.

-

It all happens very quickly after that.

Luffy hears the shot a mere moment before he feels the scythe turn slack around his neck and a liquid splash against his back.

Before he can move himself, Sanji leaps forward and drags him back. “Alright, Luffy,” He’s saying. “It’s done now, it’s done, let’s go get your brother.”

Luffy, still recovering from his encounter with this seastone, gives Sanji a large grin. “Yeah!” He says, mindlessly wiping at the line of blood on his neck.

Katherine gasps, taking several steps back from the scene. She stands there stock-still, staring at the floor behind Luffy’s back.

The first mate lets out a cry, dark shininess spreading up his arm. “How dare you!”

He throws himself forward, aiming at Usopp. His hands shake around the gun and he drops it so it clatters on the deck.

Before Luffy can move, Zoro is there, swords out. Luffy nods at his back. Zoro’s got this.

“No,” Zoro says simply. “You’re done.”

He moves forward, swords glinting, and slices at the first mate without holding back. The man falls back down in separate pieces, arm turning back to its normal color, blood pooling beneath it.

Chopper runs forward, grabbing the final remaining crew member as she starts to step towards the chaos. “Don’t move,” He says sternly.

Sanji runs towards the helm, dragging Zoro behind him. “Come on!” He snaps. “We need to follow those ships. Go check on the sails, I’ll navigate.”

“Stop bossing me around!” Zoro snaps, but he goes anyway.

Luffy makes his way to Usopp. “Hey,” He says. He leans down and picks up the gun. “You okay?”

Usopp takes a deep breath. He’s still shaking a little. “Fine,” He says. And then, in a whisper. “I’ve never done that before.”

Luffy gaze moves, to the first time, to Vance’s body behind him. There’s a bloody hole just above his right eye. “You did what you had to do,” He says, because it’s the truth.

Usopp shakes his head. “I didn’t have to,” He says. “I could’ve found another way.”

Luffy grasps onto his shoulders. “You saved me,” He says. “You saved everyone else. You’re helping me save Ace. And you saved yourself. You did what you had to do.”

Usopp nods once, twice. “Okay,” He says, breathily. His hands go up to Hat. “Hey,” He says, starting to remove Hat. “You should-”

Luffy firmly plants his hands on Hat. “Keep it,” He says simply. “Hold onto it for me until I get Ace back, okay?”

Usopp nods, moving Luffy’s hands with him. “Deal.” He says.

Luffy glances back to Chopper, holding onto the stiff and unmoving Vance shipwright. “Put her in that cell, for now,” He tells Chopper. “Okay, let’s go get Ace!”

Time passes in a blur after that: Luffy remembers running around the ship, working together with Chopper and Sanji and Zoro, trying to get the ship to move as fast as possible. Usopp is also able to join in if he’s given precise instructions about what to do and where to move.

Nobody mentions what he was able to pull off before. That’s a topic for later, after they get out of here.

After what feels like forever, they see land approaching in the distance, getting closer and closer.

“Looks like we’re not the first ones to get here,” Zoro remarks, squinting off into the distance. “There’s a lot of pirate ships here. And…yeah. That’s fighting, all right.”

Luffy whoops. “We’re almost there!” He cheers. “Go go go go go!”

“We’re going,” Sanji snaps. “We’re getting there, hold o-”

He’s interrupted by a groaning creak that sounds near the bottom of the ship. Seconds later, it shudders, and everyone is thrown to the deck in response.

Luffy pops back up right away. “What was that?”

Chopper runs to the side, peering down at the ship. “Oh no,” He squeaks. “It’s like what Franky said earlier, remember? The patchwork job? It’s falling apart.”

Sanji runs there too. “He’s right,” He says, looking down too. “I think it might just hold on enough to get us to land. But this’ll slow us down for sure.”

“No!” Luffy bangs a fist to the deck. “Come on, stupid ship, come on, move faster…”

“Um,” Usopp pipes up. “I might…have an idea.”

Luffy whirls around to look at him. “What is it?” He asks.

Usopp turns as if trying to get a sense of the ship. “Luffy,” He says. “Could you get a hold of both ends of the ship? Stretching as long as the entire length of it?”

“Of course,” Luffy says confidently. “Why?”

“I could…” Usopp pauses. “I mean. I can try to do the sensing Haki thing again. And then I could try to slingshot you directly to the island. You could be your own slingshot, you know? You can get started there, and we can follow.”

“Whoa!” Luffy says. “Yes! Cool! Let’s do that!”

He stretches out his arms, grabbing both sides of the ship. “Ready!” He chirps.

Zoro’s grabs at Usopp’s arm, leading him behind Luffy. “See if you can do…whatever it was you did, earlier. The Haki aiming stuff.” He says.

Luffy feels Usopp nod behind him. “I’ll try.”

He feels Usopp’s fingertips carefully settle on his back, and then find their way to the tops of his shoulders. He grips them tightly, finding his balance.

“You got this!” Luffy says. “I believe in you!”

He feels Usopp’s shaky breath echo into the hands on his shoulders. “Give me a second,” He says.

Luffy waits patiently, eyes drifting towards the land in the horizon. He can definitely tell that the ship has slowed down, and is starting to shake more…

He feels something click into place behind him. “Oh!” He says, excited. “You just got there again, right? You can do it?”

Usopp’s hands tighten on his shoulders. “How did you know?”

Luffy shrugs. “I could tell,” He says. “Okay! I’m ready! Let’s go!”

“Let’s go,” Usopp agrees. He steps back, movements much more sure than they were moments ago. He pulls at Luffy, positioning him in small pushes until he stops. “Okay,” He says. “When I say now, let go, okay?”

“Yeah!” Luffy says.

Usopp steps back further, and further, then…

“Now!”

Luffy lets go and goes flying, out of the ship, across the water, soaring towards the land ahead. He clears it easily, and begins his descent, falling directly into battle.

“Ace!” He yells, and lands directly into war.

-

When they land at Marineford, it’s total chaos.

Usopp can’t see it, but he can hear it, and it takes his breath away. He’s never been in a war, but this is how he imagined it must sound like: all chaos and screaming and running and, in some places, stillness.

The ship bumps awkwardly onto the land just in time, and begins to creak dangerously. “Chopper!” Zoro snaps. “Grab the woman and get off, now! Usopp, follow him! We’ll grab everything here.”

Usopp waits until he feels Chopper’s hand brush at his arm, then follows his doctor’s lead. He’s lead down onto dry land, shoes sinking down into the dirt. “Hey,” Usopp says. “Katherine. I’m sorry it turned out this way.”

She doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t think she will. But he had to say it.

To his surprise, she responds. “The Captain had his beliefs,” She says. “And I promised to follow them til the end. Everyone else did. I didn’t.”

Usopp lets out a breath. “Why didn’t you?” He asks.

There’s a tremble in her voice when she answers. “I don’t know,” She says. “I don’t know. I just…I couldn’t.”

Usopp nods, and he hears Zoro and Sanji approach behind. “Hey, you,” Zoro says. “Are you going to cause as any further trouble?”

“No,” Katherine says, voice going blank again. “I have nothing, now.”

“Okay,” Zoro says. “Let her go. But I swear, if I see you again…”

“Oi!” Sanji protests. “Don’t talk to a lady like that, you uncouth-”

“I understand,” Katherine says. “I’m leaving now. I won’t be seeing you again, I think.”

“Good,” Zoro says. Usopp hears Katherine’s distinct stride, and as she passes him, she whispers a quick “Goodbye,” before her footsteps disappear into the distance.

Usopp jumps as the ship lets out a final huge creak, and a large crash sounds, followed by silence.

Sanji snorts. “A captain always goes down with the ship.”

Usopp hears Zoro pull his swords out. “Okay,” He says. “Chopper, with me. Let’s go provide Luffy some support. Cook, tell Usopp the plan, then join us.”

With that, Usopp hears Zoro run ahead, quickly followed by Chopper’s screech of you’re going to wrong way.

A hand touches his elbow. “Okay,” Sanji says, leading Usopp to the side. “Marimo and I saw the Sunny approaching in the distance, meaning that Nami-San and Robin-Chan and the others are on their way back. So. We need you to stay here so that they can see you. Tell them where we’ve gone and catch them up on everything. We’ll need them ready to go as soon as possible if we’re all going to get out of here fast.”

Usopp nods. “Okay.”

“You and Nami-San should make sure the ship is ready to go as soon as we are,” Sanji continues. “And everyone else and come by and help us. We’ll be back as soon as we get Ace out. That’s the plan.”

Usopp’s jaw clenches. A quiet voice at the back of his mind asks how he’s going to prove useful to Nami back here, when even his new abilities don’t give the ability to help with actually seeing anything.

Sanji must notice. “Hey,” He says. “Doing what we can’t, remember? And trust me. What you’ve been doing recently…I can’t do that. So, we’re relying on you, got it?”

Usopp nods, giving a wobbly smile. “Got it.”

“Okay,” Sanji positions Usopp on the shore. “They should see you from here. It won’t be long before everyone else gets here. I’ll be leaving now. See you on the other side!”

Usopp feels the hand on his elbow vanish, and then Sanji runs away towards the sounds of war.

He takes a deep breath, tries to calm himself down, and waits.

Chapter 10

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sister Lovers, Water Brothers

Chapter Ten: The Puppet Master

Masterlist

Steve wasn’t happy with the way Munson was treating one of his kids. So unhappy in fact, that he forces himself into their club leader’s van to see what he’s getting up to with Chrissy Cunningham, and maybe it’s a good thing he’s so paranoid because it might just save her life.

Or, the one where Chrissy doesn’t die in the Munson trailer, and, despite the world-ending, the king(former) and queen(current) of Hawkins High cannot take their eyes off Eddie Munson

Read on AO3 (content warnings in notes on A03)

“We call him Vecna,” Lucas desperately tried to explain to Jason, keeping himself in front of Max and Chrissy, “He lives in another dimension, that’s why you can’t see him.”

Lucas knew it sounded crazy, but he hoped however Jason was processing the information it would keep him from shooting. 

Max anxiously watched Chrissy, looking for any signs that Vecna had found her in the memory. It was well past the five minutes they had planned on. Max’s timer on her watch went off shortly after Jason had shown up in the attic, waving a revolver around. He had demanded they wake Chrissy up, but Max knew he wouldn’t give her the opportunity to switch places, leaving Nancy, Steve, and Robin completely unguarded in the Upside Down. 

If Vecna found Chrissy, they had no way of knowing until it was too late. 

“Eddie Munson and his… his hellfire acolytes,” Jason shifted uneasily on his feet, gun still trained on Lucas. Max didn’t think he’d have a problem turning it on her if she moved too fast. “What, you all summoned this Vecna?”

“No, no you're not listening.” Lucas groaned, frustrated at Jason’s refusal to understand, “Just listen! There’s no… cult. There never was!”

“You expect me to believe that?” Jason scoffed at Lucas.

“It’s the truth!” Lucas shouted back. Max tried to inch closer without attracting Jason’s attention. 

“Then why was Chrissy with Eddie?” Jason snapped, “Why was Anne at that fucking trailer park?”

“I don’t know why Anne was there,” Lucas pleaded honestly, “And Chrissy was with Eddie to buy drugs!”

“Lair!” Jason screamed, yanking the gun back up to be in Lucas’s face. Max wished Lucas was better at lying, wished he had been able to talk his way out of this.

“Okay, listen,” Lucas breathed hard, terror filling him as he stared down the barrel of this maniac's gun, “I really don’t know why Anne was there. I wish I did, but Chrissy… she’s been seeing things, terrible things. Things Vecna forced her to see. She was scared, she just needed help.”

“See that’s how I know you’re lying,” Jason snarled, staring knives into Lucas, “If Chrissy was scared, if..if she needed help, she would have come to me! Not Eddie! Not that freak! Never!”

“You’re wrong about Eddie,” Lucas tried, hopelessly trying to clear his friend's name. 

“No,” Jason shook his head, “But I was wrong about you.”

Jason was zeroed in on Lucas and Max took the opportunity to try to reach Chrissy. Her headphones were still around her neck, the Walkman itself sitting on the ground next to her. If Max could just hit play on the device and take her own headphones off, she could switch with Chrissy without Jason noticing. Carefully she inched forward, eyes on the tape player in front of her. Before she could get within reach of it, the Walkman exploded with a bang. Max screamed jumping back as bits of plastic and wood splintered around her. 

“I told you not to fucking move,” Jason growled, smoke rising from his gun.

With Jason’s focus trained on Max in a fury, Lucas leaped forward, tackling him to the ground and knocking the gun from his hand.

*

The night air was cold, and the crickets sang over the quiet rustling of the white tent walls covering Dustin and the gate. As he blinked himself back into consciousness, he could feel the movement pull at the tight skin on his face, and the pulsing pain radiating from where Eddie had hit him.

Eddie had hit him!

The memory came flooding back to him and he shot up off the ground. Pushing down the urge to touch the swelling around his left eye, and struggling against the weight of the many layers he’d piled on earlier and was beginning to regret. He looked around the small space inside the tent, but only found himself, his spear and his shield. Eddie was nowhere to be found.

Wracking his brain for what could have led to Eddie punching him, Dustin paced in a tight circle around the gate. He ran his hands through his hair repeatedly as he thought, making it frizzy and sticking up wildly.

Eddie could have been flayed, Dustin supposed. They’d never figured out how exactly the flayed multiplied, but El had said something about Billy torturing Heather. All Eddie's done was knock Dustin out, so that couldn’t be it. Plus, Eddie hadn’t been alone since this all started, meaning there was no opportunity for him to get flayed.

He’d just wanted Dustin unconscious, for what? To run away? But the tent was still closed. Unless during his getaway he’d thought to zip it back up, he had to have- Dustin threw himself back to the ground.

Sticking his head through to act as a periscope to another dimension, Dustin quickly spotted Eddie. He was screaming his head off and banging his spear against the side of the trailer, not hiding at all but rather trying to draw their attention.

“Over here you dumb shit!” He called, “Come and get me!”

Absolutely perplexed Dustin watched them begin to move back towards Eddie, defenseless and still yelling.

Bats swooped in, throwing themselves bodily at Eddie. Not bothering to aim with claws or beaks, but simply dove trying to pummel him without any concern for their own lives. They came in from the woods, Dustin realized as if they had been heading back towards the Creel house where Steve and the others must still be.

Their job wasn’t done, he knew, and yet their distraction was used up so Eddie was throwing himself at them to keep their friends safe.

The swarm, properly redirected now, was circling the trailer once again. Eddie stood on the front steps, letting out a battle cry as he cut down several of the bats gunning for him, but it quickly became too much.

One of the dive bombers caught him by the shoulder and slammed him up against the screen door.

“Eddie!” Dustin called out, terrified for his friend, but went unheard. 

Unable to hold his own much longer, Eddie ran inside the trailer where he had at least some cover, but the windows and vents had already been ripped open by the first round of bat attacks.

There was no way for him to escape, Dustin saw, as the flimsy door slammed shut behind Eddie, cutting him out of his line of sight. 

Nancy wasn’t in charge, the kid decided, not when she wasn’t here to change her plan. If Eddie was going to live, Dustin had to think of something and fast.

A light bulb went off in his head and he froze, before throwing himself back into the Upside Down.

*

Chrissy struggled as Vecna approached her. He had easily thrown her across the clearing, slamming her body against a tree and holding her firmly in place. She was high enough on the tree to be above Vecna’s eyeline when he finally reached her. She couldn't help but whimper as he growled, turning his head to the side and calmly inspecting her.

“You are brave, Christine. Much braver than Anne.” He taunted, Chrissy glared at him, unable to speak as she struggled, “But in the end, you are weak and fragile. Just like her. Just like all the rest of them.”

“And you will break.” He promised her.

He raised his hand above her, just like had done the first time Chrissy had seen him. This time, though, she was alone. Eddie and Steve weren't here to hold her to the earth. Lucas and Max were fighting for their own lives just outside of her head. He had just begun to take over her mind when he was just as quickly ripped away, letting Chrissy fall to the ground.

The forest floor dug into her palms as she panted, unable to help the flow of tears down her cheeks. Chrissy looked up, unsure of what was happening. She watched in horror and awe as a girl much younger than her entered the clearing. It only took her a moment, witnessing the way she held Vecna in the air without touching him, for Chrissy to realize that this was the superpowered girl her new friends had told her about. 

Eleven restrained Vecna at least 15 feet in the air, pinning his limbs to the side, and turned him slowly to face her. With one swift movement, she launched Vecna through the clearing and off into the woods, his body slamming against trees and taking them down with a crash.

Slowly Chrissy pulls herself from the ground, Before she is fully up and steady a pair of hands claps onto her arms, helping her the rest of the way.

“Chrissy, are you okay?” Eleven asked, looking over Chrissy in panic.

“What?” Chrissy couldn’t understand what was happening, how did this girl know her name? How was she even here?

“Are you okay?” Eleven asked again.

“Uh, yeah, yeah I’m okay,” Chrissy grabbed Eleven’s shoulder, unsure if she was even real, “How are you here? Did I make you?”

Chrissy had never seen Eleven or her powers before, so she didn’t know how that would work, but nothing else made sense. Eleven grabbed her hand, holding it tightly between them.

“I’m real,” Eleven insisted, giving Chrissy a reassuring look.

“How?” Chrissy figured it didn’t matter at this point, but she didn’t know what else to say.

“I piggybacked from a pizza dough freezer,” Eleven explained simply. 

Before Chrissy could further express her confusion, the sound of creaking wood alerted them to Vecna as he rose from a pile of dead trees and dirt. As they watched Vecna rise to his feet and begin approaching them, Eleven stepped in front of Chrissy, giving her a clear look over her shoulder. Eleven was asking Chrissy to stay out of the way, to let her handle this. Chrissy obliged easily, she thought she was a strong person, but there was no way in hell she was strong enough to physically fight Vecna. 

Chrissy ran away, hiding behind the trunk of a particularly large tree, watching from the side as Eleven met Vecna in the clearing.

“If you touch her again,” Eleven said calmly, just loud enough for Chrissy to hear, “I will kill you, again .”

“Is that what you did?” Vecna condescended, tilting his head to the side, “Hmm? Did you kill me?” Chrissy vaguely remembered Steve explaining the connection Vecna had revealed between himself and Eleven. 

“I am so glad you are here, Eleven.” Vecna narrowed his foggy eyes at her, “This is going to be beautiful.” Slowly Vecna summoned shards of broken trees to rise from the ground, their jagged edges honed in on Eleven, “So beautiful. And it’s all thanks to you.”

His hand shot out in front of him and Vecna sent the splinters flying at Eleven, but she deflected them swiftly. Sending the wood spikes hurtling through the woods and stuck into trees. Chrissy watched as he flung Eleven around the clearing, smashing her body against the trees and ground like a ragdoll.

Chrissy felt helpless as she watched this girl, who was years younger than her, be beaten to a pulp. There had to be something she could do, anything. In a moment of misplaced bravery, Chrissy scooped up a particularly jagged and long branch. It would be useless as a bat, too thin for that, but she imagined spearing it through Vecna’s body could be possible.

As he slammed Eleven down onto the picnic table, breaking it into shambles of wood and metal, Chrissy slowly tried to sneak up behind him. When she felt close enough, she broke into a sprint. She cried out and pulled her arm back, ready to drive the stick into him. With an easy wave of his arm, Vecna sent her flying. She yelped as she was launched across the clearing and hard into the body of a tree.

*

Eddie panted heavily. His back pressed up against the bathroom door, while his feet pushed against the cabinets on the other side of the hallway. Tucking his knees close against his chest he did his best not to cry, as he clutched the makeshift spear in his hands.

Otherworldly creatures scrambled over the wall and through the ceiling, all gunning for him. Thankfully the bats were less effective in such an enclosed space. Swiping out madly with the spear and spiked shield he was able to keep a wide berth around him clear, but only if he kept moving, kept swinging. Terror coursed through him, making his movements jerky, and less effective as the unending swarm pushed on.

Amidst the onslaught of small, screeching creatures Eddie drew in deep breaths and attempted to collect some of his scattered thoughts. With a moment of reprieve, Eddie remembered the bikes they had left outside. If he could get one of them, maybe he could outrun the bats and keep them distracted. 

Distracted hunting Eddie down, but he didn’t matter. Dustin was down and out, but only for a while- Eddie hadn’t hit him too hard… he hoped- and as soon as the kid was awake he’d be right behind Eddie.

Not allowing himself to rethink the plan, he sprinted. Stepping on wings and flesh, he ignored the claws and beaks slicing at his ankles as he fled, figuring he was giving as much as he got. Despite the success of his getaway, he could feel the blood flowing steadily from the cuts and running down into his shoes, soaking his socks.

Running pulled at the wounds, stretching the already burning skin, but he pushed on. He leaped down the steps of his front porch when one of the hell beasts waiting there suddenly shot up and sank its teeth deep into his stomach. 

Instinctively, Eddie grabbed its cold, scaly body by the neck and tore it away from himself, taking with it a long strip of his shirt and a bloody mouthful of his own flesh. Imitating Steve, he threw the thing as hard as he could at the ground with a piercing scream, before stumbling the final steps to a bike tossed on the ground.

*

When Chrissy came to, she was no longer in the torn-apart clearing in the woods. Instead, she was pinned to a wall, pressure around her wrists and ankles keeping her upright. She groaned, disturbed by the fact that she had been unconscious in her own mind. The light around her was glowing red, casting everything in a sickly hue. She was where Steve and Max had described. The ruins of the creel house were standing around her, intertwined completely with the Upside Down. She wasn’t, she realized, in her own mind anymore. She was in Vecna’s.

Vecna stalked toward her. Chrissy could see Eleven tied up by vines to the elaborate front door behind Vecna. She was sobbing and struggling as she helplessly watched. Chrissy barely had time to fight against the restraints before Vecna was standing in front of her, his ragged skin reflecting the red light around them.

“Don’t be afraid,” Vecna offered, gliding the back of his malformed hand across Chrissy’s cheek, “Try and stay very still. It will all be over soon.”

*

Eddie pulled the bike up off the ground and pushed off down the gravel road, and took off. Heading out of the trailer park, he only thought of getting the bats even just a little bit further away from his friends. Standing on the pedals as he rode, the bike shook violently from side to side, carrying him as fast as it could manage on the bumpy road.

There was no destination in mind, just going, running… again.

The front wheel hit something and twisted to the side, sending Eddie over the handlebars as the bike fell to the ground. He rolled back to his feet and kept running.

Bats swarmed and dove behind him, attacking the now mangled frame of the bike. Their cries filled the air around him, and the sky flashed red. No thunder followed except for the pounding of his heart in his chest as his feet slowly came to a stop.

Darkness lay before him. A long dark road lined on either side by twisted trees covered in vines and corrupted by Vecna and his hive mind. 

He breathed, trying to catch his breath, and waited. Theirs was a game of time, of the last second, and the scrappy hero.

The moments dragged on and the darkness before him beckoned him onward. The low-hanging branches and their rotten foliage offered him cover and safety.

Just the decoy , he had promised, certainly not the hero , but time stretched on and the bats didn’t relent. Vecna was still alive.

He evened his breath, trying to force his body into calming down, Eddie armed himself with the shield and spear still strapped on his back and turned to face the hoard. Staring them down he saw as they finished ripping the soulless bicycle to sheds and finally noticed him still standing. 

As a single wave, they came at him. With his shield held before him, he withstood the first attack. They hurtled themselves against the nails driven through it while he let out a persistent scream. Moving with a senseless grace, the bats pulled back up and began to circle Eddie.

Standing in the eye of their hurricane, he felt as if they were shrinking him down as they flew higher and higher. He thought for a moment they were hesitating, and he stole the moment to ready himself. Adjusting his feet and his grip, he quickly realized they were taunting him. 

A single bat dove, breaking off from the whirlpool to swipe at Eddie, who returned the attack easily and knocked it out of the air. Following the first’s lead, the others continued to break off, one at a time, and Eddie caught each one only inches before they could get to him. Bashing them with the shield and batting them out of the air he matched them one for one.

“Come on!” he shouted, unsure if he was calling out for his friends or taunting the creatures in return. With their numbers, they could easily take him out in seconds, but instead, they let him live, kept him fighting. Every passing moment he grew more tired of being allowed to live.

Then one caught him around the throat with its tail, sending him flying back only to release him again. Once they had Eddie laid out, floundering and vulnerable, they dove in for the feast.

Landing on his arms and sides, their claws cut through his layered jackets and sunk into his skin, lighting up his body with pinpricks of pain in contrast to the gleeful mouthfuls of red they tore from his body. Eddie shrieked and kicked, desperately trying to knock them off, but they easily dodged his flailing limbs. He didn’t even think they were swallowing him, just tearing him apart to spit it out.

What little light was left above him, was soon blocked out as the bats drew in tighter and tighter above him in a dark fluttering cloud.

Eddie could taste blood in his mouth and wished he could see the regular night sky one more time.

Wayne had helped him on the roof of the trailer, the first time after Eddie got caught dealing, and they had laid there. Unable to look at each other, they looked at the stars and passed a cigarette back and forth. He’d never yelled, and he still didn’t. Instead, he’d sat with Eddie and pointed out the stars he knew the name of, but mostly the ones he didn’t.

“There’s so much out there,” Wayne told him, “so much more than your old man or I ever thought to look for, but you could Eddie, you could.”

There were no stars above him now. There was no cold night air biting at his nose, only pain lacing its way along every inch of his body, and a bright light… no, two bright lights speeding towards Eddie as he tried to make peace with his hellish grave.

*

Max kicked and clawed at Jason’s back, trying desperately to save Lucas, who he had pinned to the wall by the throat. Jason was taller than Max and what felt like a thousand times stronger, as well. Max felt like she was beating a brick wall; He barely budged, barely even reacted to her assault. Weakly Lucas raised an arm, pointing past Jason’s shoulder, trying and unable to speak.

Max whipped her head around, horrified to see Chrissy’s body slowly rising from the ground. 

Jason saw it, too. In a panic he threw himself off of Lucas, back hitting the wall and sinking to the ground. Lucas coughed and gagged, trying to take in air through his damaged windpipe. Max ran to Chrissy, placing her hands on her shoulders and trying to hold her down. It was no use. Vecna had her, and he was stronger than all of them.

“Chrissy!” Max shouted hopelessly. The headphones were still looped around the back of Chrissy’s neck, but the Walkman hung in a mangled mess at the end of the cord, “Please Chrissy wake up! Can you hear me?”

Max grabbed the destroyed Walkman, trying to pry the tape out, unable to see if it was damaged or not yet. Before she could determine if the music was salvageable, a shot rang out and blood splattered across Max’s face, making her scream. 

She was unsure of who the bullet was meant for, but it hit Chrissy square in the back of the hip. Max looked over her shoulder to see Jason cowering on the ground with the revolver back in his shaky hand. He stared wide-eyed at Chrissy. He wasn’t seeing the girl he used to know, he wasn’t even seeing a person at all. Max knew in his head he was seeing a demon, the devil, someone possessed and no longer of this world. He pulled the trigger again.

This time the bullet went through the side of Chrissy’s waist. Blood was pouring from both wounds and Max knew she would bleed out soon if she didn’t do something quick. Scared and not seeing another option, Max unplugged her own Walkman. She ripped the ruined one off the end of Chrissy’s headphones and plugged her own in.

“I hope you like Kate Bush,” Max said, mostly to herself as she pressed play, tears springing to her eyes as she tried to save her friend, “Please Chrissy… please wake up.”

She could hear Lucas and Jason fighting behind her, the clatter of the gun as Lucas knocked it away once again. Max’s eyes were glued to Chrissy, though, begging for any sign of life. 

After too many seconds, Max was beginning to resign to the fact that this wasn’t working when suddenly Chrissy came crashing back to the ground with a gasp.

*

Without oxygen, Steve felt lightheaded and almost floaty as he pulled against the vines pinning him to the wall. His limbs felt heavy and slow even as the panic urged him into action. Like quicksand, the harder he struggled the harder it became.

The edge of his vision grew darker and darker, even as Steve fought against the encroaching darkness. He couldn’t escape the burning of his lungs or the feeling of his throat convulsing around nothing. Unlike drowning, which Steve really wished he didn’t have a point of reference for, there was nothing to pull in. There was no water invading his lungs to fight against. He couldn’t even breathe out.

Feeling his body beginning to give up, Steve looked for Robin hidden in her own mess of vines, but he couldn’t get his eyes to focus.

He hit the floor hard.

The vines pulled away completely, slithering their way back up the stairs in retreat. Nancy and Robin were beside him, all of them gasping in air and coughing away the feeling of being choked. Stumbling to his feet, Steve offered Robin a hand as she watched the fleeing tentacles.

“I don’t believe in a higher power,” she told him, brows drawn in confusion, “or divine intervention, but that was a miracle.”

Nancy rose behind them, rifle once again in hand, and declared,

“We better not waste it, then,” and cocked the gun.

“Phase five,” Steve mumbled.

“Flambe,” Robin answered, raising her Molotov as if in a toast.

*

Chrissy couldn’t help the scream that burst out of her mouth as she hit the attic floor. Pain, from more than just falling, shot through her body. She looked down at herself, horrified to see blood gushing from her body. Instinctually her hand went to the source, pressing down hard on the wound. She looked around, the panic and pain and the sound of Kate Bush singing in her ears overwhelming her senses. She was able to focus her vision on Lucas, he was bent over Jason, slamming his fists into his face. A gun on the floor next to them helped Chrissy connect the dots. He shot her. Jason fucking shot her .

Max. 

Chrissy realized that if she was listening to Kate Bush, Max was defenseless. She turned and quickly realized that the girl wasn’t just standing behind her like she thought, she was floating. Only inches off the ground but steadily rising. 

“No, no no,” Chrissy said to herself, shaking as she tried to stand, head spinning. 

“Max!” Lucas was shouting behind her. Jason was unconscious on the ground, leaving Lucas to take in the full scene.

Chrissy weakly tried to hold on to Max, unable to keep her from rising above her head. The two teenagers watched in horror as Max stopped rising. Then with a sickening crunch, her left arm snapped at an awkward angle.

*

Steve and Robin followed Nancy as she climbed into the attic, not bothering with stealth anymore. Vecna knew they were here and the best plan was to get in and get out.

From the centermost point of the ceiling, his scared and rotted body was suspended in the center of the room. His eyes were shut, and his face would have looked peaceful if not for the fact they knew he was currently trying to kill their friend. He rested on a web of the very same vines that had been trying to kill them only moments before. They were connected to him, digging into his back and reminded Steve of the Mindflayer lifting Billy’s punctured body into the air.

Shaking away the image, he threw the first cocktail.

*

Chrissy screamed, falling backward onto the ground, feeling sick and lightheaded as she watched her friend be mutilated. Lucas was screaming Max’s name as loud as he could, unable to do anything but watch as her leg snapped. 

This was it, Chrissy thought, Max was going to die. Vecna had won. She wished it was her up there. She was bleeding out anyway, but now they were both going to be gone and Vecna would win. 

As Chrissy’s consciousness began to fade, her body going cold and limp, she caught a glimpse of Max’s body falling to the ground.

*

The bottle shattered across Vecna’s chest, splashing liquid fire all over him and the strange limbs holding him up. The impact awoke him from his murderous trance and he howled in pain. The vines holding him pulled out one by one and flailed in the open air, trying to put out the flames.

Vecna himself fell, landing on his feet, and looked up through the bright glow of the fire at the three standing before him. There was no fear in his eyes, even as he began to stalk closer to them, it was as if they were nothing, hardly registered as a threat.

Despite his perception of them, Robin threw the second bottle and it connected with his shoulder, throwing him off balance. Before he could regain his footing, put together a new plan of attack, or re-summon his vines and bats, Nancy fired her first round.

He stumbled back, and they advanced on him, not caring as the room around them was consumed by flames.

She fired once, twice more, and sent him toppling backwards out of the window and crashing to the street outside.

Steve watched on in awe.

Could it be that easy?

Excited, and still terrified for their lives, all three rushed back down the two flights of stairs, kicking each other and every passing vine as they went as if moving freely through the Creel house was one more fuck you to Venca.

Bursting out of the front door, where they expected to find Henry’s body, broken and twisted much like his victims, they instead found an empty scorch mark, and behind them, the clock began to chime.

“Three chimes?” Robin counted.

“Max? Chrissy?” Nancy asked, knowing they had no way of knowing, but Steve nodded as if he could trust Vecna’s word.

Before they could deliberate further, the ground beneath them began to shake again, harsher than it had before. The house behind them rattled, and the windows blew out from the force of the movement. It felt as if the world was trying to brush itself off, shake clean the etch-a-sketch, tear up the drawing and try again.

*

Wayne’s truck horn sounded, and Eddie giddily thought maybe his uncle had come to save him like he always did. The loud honk stunned the bats for only a second, but Eddie didn’t have the strength left to sit up and see it. Then he heard a familiar voice screeching out the open window of Wayne’s truck,

“Eddie! Get the hell out of the way! Roll! Roll!” before Dustin laid on the horn again.

Cringing at the way his ripped-open stomach pulled and twisted, Eddie clutched his hands around the worst of his injuries, prayed for his guts to stay inside him, and rolled to the right just as the truck swerved to the left.

The hood of the truck echoed hollowly with every bat that slammed into it, in a strange percussion of bodies crumpling against it and falling to the floor. Their bodies were beginning to pile up.

Dustin must have slammed on the brakes because Eddie’s cry of agony was met with a shower of dust and rumble being thrown into his open mouth and wounds.

The remaining bats fled from the new threat and scrambled away when Dustin honked for a final time before he threw the door open and tripped out of the driver's seat.

“Eddie!” he cried excited and disbelieving as he stumbled to Eddie’s side, and bats rained down around him, like puppets with their strings cut.

He was gone.

Eddie let out a wet chuckle that caught in the back of his throat and made him cough, shaking the already pulverized mess of his abdomen.

“Oh, god, Eddie?” Dustin fell to his knees beside him, hands coming out to clutch at the collar of his ruined leather jacket where he was the least blood-stained.

“Bad, huh?” he tried to joke, but his face was completely flat and his eyes were focused somewhere far away, trying to escape the burning of his torn skin and the smooth flow of his own blood leaving his body.

“No no no,  you’re going to be fine,” Dustin told him through tears, “We’ve just got to get you to a hospital okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, not really hearing Dustin or feeling himself talk.

“Alright,” Dustin chanted to himself, trying to lift Eddie off the ground. The movement sent pain shooting through Eddie’s body, nerve endings screaming.

“I think…” Eddie tried to choke out, the pain making it hard to come up with words. Dustin was speaking to himself as he tried to him, “I think I just need a second. I just need a second, okay?”

Eddie didn't want to hurt Dustin’s feelings, but he was in so much pain he couldn’t help the shortness of his words. He looked up at his younger friend. Dustin’s face was full of fear and sorrow, Eddie tried to give him a reassuring smile. Blood and tears covered his face.

“I didn’t run away this time, right?” Eddie asked through gritted teeth, feeling himself go numb. He needed to know that someone saw what he did. He needed this one last reassurance that he had actually done something right for once in his short life.

“No, no no, you didn’t run,” Dustin assured him, choking back a sob, “You didn’t run.”

“You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?” Eddie said, hoping his words were intelligible past the gurgle of blood. He needed Dustin to understand, he needed Dustin to carry on for him .

Eddie couldn’t help the sobs that wracked his body, making more blood pour up from his lungs and splutter past his lips. “You… you tell the others I love them...you tell Chrissy for me, please.”

“No,” Dustin cried, tears falling onto Eddie’s face as he sobbed, “You’re gonna tell them yourself. You have to.”

“Nah, man.” Eddie shook his head, regret clear on his face, “Say you’ll do it, say you’ll tell them. Say it.”

“I’ll-” A sob cut Dustin’s words off, vision blurry with tears, “I’m gonna tell them…”

“Good,” Eddie sighed, “You know, I think I'm actually gonna graduate.” He could see it in his head, that ugly fucking cap and gown. He could hear his friends cheering for him, and feel Chrissy kissing him. The strong hug he’d get from Steve, the type only a high school jock had perfected. He wished he had hugged Steve before he left for the house.

“I think it’s my year, Henderson,” He was starting to slip, “I think it’s finally my year.”

Dustin keeled over him, sobbing. Eddie thought about his friends, and his uncle. He had felt so alone in life, but he knew he wasn’t. 

Chrissy nearly sacrificed herself for him. Steve went out of his way to help him, despite the fact they barely liked each other before all this. Wayne… Eddie didn’t know where to start with everything Wayne had ever done to save him. Hellfire would have followed him into hell if he asked.  Hellfire never got to finish the campaign, he realized sadly. He thought of Mike, who’s anger and resentment reminded Eddie so much of his younger self, and how he hadn’t seen him in over a week. He thought about Dustin, who was so happy and smart, and how he’d have to live with this…this trauma for the rest of his life. 

“I love you, man,” Eddie said softly, knowing it was true and wishing he had said it more often.

“I love you, too,” Dustin replied, shaking like a leaf.

Eddie was so tired. Talking had worn his ruined body out, but he didn’t regret it. He hoped he had said everything he needed to say. He could hear Dustin calling his name as he began to slip under. He felt bad for doing this to him, but as long as everyone else was safe, his sacrifice was worth it.

*

Steve, Nancy, and Robin clung to each other, stumbling away from the house as pieces began to break off and shatter against the ground around them. Once far enough away from falling debris, they fell to the ground in a pile, clutching each other as they rode out the waves wracking the ground beneath them.

The clock sounded again, echoing all around them now as if the chimes were what shook the Upside Down. Three times it rang out, and everything slowly fizzed out. The shaking let up, and the fourth chime never came. Steve hoped it meant something had gone right, that Max and Chrissy were alright, but they had no way of knowing.

“Back to the trailer?” he asked, barely waiting for the girls to nod in agreement before taking off into the woods. Crashing his way through the trees as the infectious vines crumbled off of them Steve dipped and dogged, not stopping to breathe. The barely bandaged bites in his sides were pulling at their meager scabs, and he could feel the warmth of his own blood soaking into the bandages around his middle.

Robin kept tripping over roots and rocks, and Nancy fell back to help her up every time, even as Steve raced ahead. They got further and further behind, only able to hear Steve’s pounding footsteps.

Nearer to the trailer park, Steve spotted the first one -an angry red gash cutting across the road, headed back toward the center of town. It was just like Vecna had shown Steve in his vision, only it didn’t cut through the ground like the gates. Instead, it was a mass of pulsing and glowing red, much thicker than the flimsy membrane over the gate outside Eddie's trailer. 

That had to be a good thing, Steve told himself. That was before he heard Dustin screaming.

At first, it was unintelligible wailing, high pitched and wracked with sobs, and Steve took off again, leaping over the half-formed crack in the ground and rushing toward the sound. As he got closer he realized Henderson wasn’t just crying out, but he was calling Steve’s name over and over in a blood-curdling scream that froze Steve’s blood still in his veins.

He couldn’t be hurt, Steve told himself, refusing to acknowledge the horrible images flashing through his head that Vecna had put there. Dustin's arms twisted at horrid angles, his eyes pulled back into his head, missing chunks of flesh from his arms and sides where the bats had chewed through what little protection they’d left him with. But he was alright enough to scream for help, he was still breathing fine, Steve could work with that.

He burst through the tree line, only to be blinded by the lights of a truck shining into his face. Throwing a hand up to block the bright light, he let his eyes adjust until he could see Dustin hunched over on the ground crying softly now and chanting as if in prayer over the unmoving form of Eddie’s body.

“Steve’s here,” Dustin said to Eddie, though he made no sign of hearing it. “You’re going to be alright. It’s going to be okay. Steve! Steve, we need to get him to the hospital. He's bleeding, it’s so much-” Dustin dissolved into sobs as Steve fell to his knees beside them. He tried to pull the child away from where he was trying to hold some piece of fabric, unrecognizable and soaked in blood, to Eddie's stomach.

“No! No!” Dustin shoved him away with blood-stained hands and kept holding the pathetic compress in place. Steve relented and looked over Eddie's still body.

The mess of blood around Dustin’s hands continued to pulse. He wasn’t gone yet.

“Okay,” Steve said, trying to calm himself and remember any of his first aid training. He hadn’t been a lifeguard for two years to watch his friend choke and drown in his own blood.

“Okay,” he repeated, more sure of himself, and threw down his ax to strip off his jacket and shirt, bundling up the slightly cleaner cotton tee to pass to Dustin. He drew in a shaky breath, trying to ready himself and he clasped his hands together and positioned them over Eddie’s sternum. 

Nancy and Robin emerged from the tree line, gasping as they spotted their three friends huddled on the ground, but Steve couldn’t let them distract him.

He started compressions, throwing all his weight and strength down onto Eddie's chest in a steady rhythm. Dustin held his guts in, shaking and crying beside Steve, as he took over the roll of Eddie’s heart, beating away to keep blood flowing to his brain.

“Call an ambulance,” Steve panted, unable to look at Robin but knowing she was freaking out, “Call an ambulance!” Obeying, the girls continued their run back to the gate, and Steve had never felt so alone.

All his life the people who loved him had left. Time after time they slipped through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold onto him. At least they were still out there- his parents were at one of their other houses where he could hate them from afar, doing his best not to let the last bit of love he held for them eat him alive. Tommy and Carol were off at college, or maybe vacationing in Greece, and Steve could halfheartedly wish them the best so long as they stayed away. Nancy… maybe Nancy wasn’t leaving after all, and Steve wasn’t going to let Eddie slip away. Not when the stupid nerd had weaseled his way into Steve’s kids’ lives, then gone and made himself a part of their party.

You die, I die, Dustin had said once, knowing that the world couldn’t keep turning the same if they lost each other.

Eddie's rib cracked beneath his palms, and Steve couldn’t hold back the scared tears any longer.

He had just gotten here, Steve wanted to argue with the universe trying to steal Eddie from out under his fingers. He had just gotten here, and Steve wanted to get to know him better, wanted to tell him what he had awoken in Steve, wanted Dustin to have another older friend to help him through the rest of his high school years and beyond, wanted to watch Eddie and Chrissy continue being disgustingly in love with each other.

“Steve, Steve!” Dustin shouted over the din in Steve’s head, “The ambulance is coming, we need to move him.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Okay, I got this.” 

This would be easier if Steve could throw him over his shoulder without sending Eddie's guts spilling down his back. He pulled his jacket back on, and zipped it over his own open wounds, before slipping his arms under Eddie’s shoulders and knees.

Deadlifting a person was no easy feat, especially once they’d gone completely lax, but Steve huffed and grunted, getting on foot under himself so he was kneeling, then shoving both of them up. The jostling caused Eddie to hack out a mouthful of blood. With his head thrown back, it trickled down his face, but he kept breathing shallowly.

Curling Eddie close against his own body, Steve let Dustin tug him along back to the gate.

[pixelgrotto]

Cool Cold War Ninja

Capcom's Strider series holds the distinction of starring one of the coolest ninjas in video games. Hiryu feels like he was designed to look as rad as possible, from the blue suit to the red scarf to the tonfa-esque cypher blade, and his appearance was partially influenced by Spawn (another hero engineered to radiate style) because Capcom character designer Harumaru saw some Todd McFarlane books one day. Even Hiryu's name (飛竜, "flying dragon") is cool, mostly because it taught me that 竜 is the Japanese simplified form of the Chinese 龍, a character in my own name.

But despite his coolness, Hiryu is better recognized for cameos in the Marvel vs. Capcom series instead of his own franchise. This is most unfortunate, especially considering that Strider's one of the earliest video game examples of a cross-media property. Way back in 1988, Capcom greenlit a Strider comic with the help of the Moto Kikaku mangaka group while also assigning two internal divisions to helm an arcade game and an NES title. The intent was to make Hiryu into a hero who would span multiple mediums and be recognized everywhere, from the printed page to the pixelated screen. And that sorta worked, but not as well as Capcom hoped.

The first and most famous Strider - the 1989 arcade release - begins with Hiryu gliding onto the towers of the Kazakh Soviet Socialist Republic in a truly iconic bit of spritework. Within three seconds, you're hit with an array of action as Hiryu strides forward, explodes enemies in half with his cypher, and does a signature flip where all of his limbs flail outwards in a mid-air cartwheel. The action and setpieces never let up, and over the span of the game's five levels, Hiryu fights a council of politicians who morph into a multi-limbed robotic centipede, runs from mountain avalanches, explores dinosaur-filled Amazon jungles, hitchhikes a ride on an airship, and battles robotic anti-gravity cores in the fringes of outer space.

Strider is a blend of a hundred different things that the developers considered cool. But beyond all of the set pieces, the factor that sticks out to me the most is the Cold War futurism that drips from every level, feeling original but somehow dated at the same time. What other games start with your character infiltrating the "Kazakh Federation" and end with them fighting the sorcerous Grand Master Meio, a dude who seems like a thinly-veiled stereotype of a communist dictator gone wild? What other games commit to their "born in a geopolitical era of tension" vibe by featuring speech samples in multiple languages, including Russian, Japanese and Mandarin? Strider came out right before the fall of the Berlin Wall, and you can feel it. On that note, I don't think Kazakhstan has appeared in any other franchise as much as Strider. Honestly, the world would probably be a better place if more people associated Kazakhstan with Hiryu's adventures instead of Borat.

Strider didn't receive a decent conversion for home consoles until the Sega Genesis/Mega Drive in 1990, and the NES "port" that came out around the same time wasn't a port at all. Instead, NES Strider is an early Metroidvania, and one that I actually enjoy a fair bit. This opinion goes against the norm, since while I can recall NES Strider getting lots of promo in Nintendo Power when I was growing up, popular internet consensus these days tells you that it's a broken game with controls that feel like they're stuck in a beta phase.

I can't refute that - NES Strider's controls stink, especially when you're forced to pull off a wall jump that's impossible to do unless you have perfect timing. (Thankfully it's only a mandatory move at two points.) The game's also got a weird glitchiness about it, with enemies respawning at an utterly aggressive pace and the edges of the screen flickering way too much every time Strider moves an inch. The bugginess of NES Strider supposedly kept its impending Famicom port from ever being released, making it a rare example of a Japanese game that sold in North America but not in its native country.

And yet, the ambition to NES Strider is admirable. The trend of backtracking through levels and using items to unlock previously inaccessible areas might be commonplace now, but it wasn't in 1989. The plot, while burdened by a messy English translation, also features far more of a story than any other game in this franchise thanks to its heavy basis in the Strider manga. (Which is pretty cool, by the way, and partially readable in English thanks to a fan scanlation of its first three chapters.) Instead of simply facing Grand Master Meio, Hiryu's got to dig out corruption from the ranks of his organization, and it's nice to actually get some insight into his companions, from a fellow Strider named Kain to a guy named Ryuzaki who left his Attack-Boots in China.

Strider never blossomed into one of Capcom's sequel-studded franchises of the '90s. The NES game was a bold but flawed experiment that didn't get much traction, and while the arcade game performed okay, many of its key developers left the company soon after its release. In the European market, though, arcade Strider received dozens of ports for home computer systems that really couldn't handle it, like the ZX Spectrum. Tiertex, a local developer behind a handful of these ports, got the rights from Capcom and made Strider II, a sequel with shockingly bad level design which also goes under the name Journey from Darkness: Strider Returns. Capcom effectively retconned Tiertex's work with an in-house Strider 2 in 1999, riding off of the wave that Hiryu received from his inclusion in Marvel vs. Capcom.

Released for the arcade and Playstation, Strider 2 seems to take place two thousand years after its predecessor, with the Hiryu the player controls a clone of the original. It's never entirely clear, as the plot was clearly just an excuse to have Hiryu fight a reincarnated Meio. Forgettable story aside, the game spans as many environments as the first Strider, and the opening level sees Hiryu fighting terrorists in Neo Hong Kong to the beat of some darn good music which sounds suspiciously like the Ozzy Osbourne song Shot in the Dark. There's also a rival Strider named Hein who wears an all-white uniform in a nod to Hinjo, the main character from Tiertex's Strider II, which is a polite ode to a game that Capcom has all but disowned nowadays.

My biggest issue with Strider 2 is that each level is divided into small chunks, with the player forced to sit through loading screens while the next segment loads. Most PS1 games released during this era suffered from long loadtimes, but it's annoying to deal with the same thing in an arcade game. Maybe the load screens are meant to give players a breather before the next spree of button mashing, but I feel like the game's pace suffers tremendously. It's hard to fall into the same "blaze through, slice 'em with the cypher, do a billion flips along the way" rhythm that the first Strider inculcated when you've got to wait five seconds after every major encounter.

Strider 2 released during a period when action platformers were nearly nonexistent in the arcades, and a 30-minute experience - which is about how long it takes to beat the game once you know what you're doing - wasn't going to really cut it on the PS1. And so the series went back into dormancy until 2014, when Capcom once again enlisted the services of a third party. Double Helix Games' Strider is yet another retread of Hiryu versus Meio, but there's a surprising ton of DNA from NES Strider present. These go from the music, which features an awesome remix of the NES game's level 1 Kazakh theme, to the decision to make Hiryu's journey into a full-fledged Metroidvania.

Double Helix clearly poured a lot of love into their work, and I give 'em props for that NES inspiration. But there's something missing from the experience, which is probably why you don't often see 2014 Strider on lists of the best recent Metroidvanias. Unlike the world-spanning levels of the other Striders, this one takes place solely in Kazakh, which is large but very samey. As a result, the game feels padded despite not being terribly long, and the in-game map is far too confusing due to different planes that Hiryu can jump across. While Metroidvanias are one of the few genres that tend to activate my completionist tendencies, I never felt the need to explore every nook and cranny or snag every ability. It's a shame, because Double Helix was almost there in melding Strider's disparate gameplay styles and finally bringing Hiryu back to mainstream stardom. But they didn't stick the landing, and Amazon Game Studios bought Double Helix right after Strider released, ensuring that the devs probably won't ever get the chance to improve on their formula.

It's been almost a decade since Hiryu got his own game. He most recently showed up in Marvel vs. Capcom Infinite, and Capcom threw Strider fans a bone with the character Zeku in Street Fighter V, who has a Hiryu-style skin and is said to be the dude who founded the entire Strider order. All of this is neat, but it's baffling that Hiryu - despite being one of the coolest ninjas in gaming - has never had a solo title truly take off since his debut. Some of this might be due to the fact that Capcom has to credit (and presumably pay) Moto Kikaku whenever Hiryu appears, and one could argue that the original arcade game's balls-to-the-wall action and high difficulty don't have a place in Capcom's catalog any longer, or at least aren't as money-printing as new Monster Hunters and Resident Evils. But I think you could easily make something like Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice starring Strider Hiryu, and I wish someone would. After all, we're talking about one cool ass Cold War ninja here, and he deserves to shine once more.