#his master s voice tattoos

[syluslnd]

sylus master post

⋆𐙚₊♡ request rules

request are CLOSED 11/07/24

ANGST

he doesn’t say ily

sylus pushes you away

house of cards

house of cards pt2

he forgot your bday

you have a miscarriage

reader on meds

self harm

ED

you’re his second priority

you spend your bday alone

you almost die

fwb

────୨ৎ────

NSFW

safe word

vibrator

he eats you out

sub sylus

more sub sylus

you calling sylus cute

even more sub sylus

Punishment play

Sylus kinks

daddy sylus

Remote vibrator

Pet play

Sylus nipples

sylus sucking your nips

sylus who loves your boobs

sucks your chichis

you suck his chichis

BDSM sylus

you strip in front of him

“Facials”

Dom sylus

Spicy hc

marking territory

he eats u out

voice + praise kink

you’re into cnc

masochist reader

he wants to be dominated by u

naughty FaceTime calls

Teasing cock

you need his voice to cum

────୨ৎ────

FLUFF

Fluff sylus

black card sylus

apologizing to sy

sy w fem gf

you won a plushie

reader with an ed

insecure s/o

he comforts u

Sylus black card

surprise sylus

bringing in injured animals

you can’t resonate w him

worried sylus abt u

when you’re pregnant

you’re having twins

autistic mc

clingy sylus

gachapon machines

your period blood stained

when you’re insecure

motherly instinct

he confesses

singing w him

wearing skirt for fist time

you watch asmr

he finds out you’re pregnant

────୨ৎ────

TENSION

stalker sylus

Stalker sylus pt 2

Sugar daddy

Sugar daddy pt 2

blushing/teasing

jealous sylus

Jealous girlfriend

sensitive spot

Halloween party

Sylus has a crush on you

when you challenge him

you have a plushie from a ex

baby trapping

he’s your rival

your lower back tattoo

panic attack

────୨ৎ────

[gildedkrone]

Jealous Ghost? Pre-relationship? A touch of angst? Maybe more angst? And I guess a dash of Comfort to soothe the soul of the faint hearted??

Does she know I'm tattooed onto your heart?🔞

This fic contains cheating trope. I do not condone cheating; the relationships in the fic are purely fictional. Exercise care in real life.

Relationships: Ghost x bottom!Male Reader Synopsis: He seeks love and pleasure with another—you. Master List | Part 2

Skin slapping and wet noises. They are addictive as ever, and the man beneath you is breathless and panting. His skin is dripping with sweat and his mouth is on yours. You taste notes of bourbon and gets mouth fucked by the eager tongue. Pleasure is a time stopper, and you are it's keeper and watcher.

You've never had complaints about your ass, and you weren't going to get one now.

"Fuck, so fuckin' greedy, whore."

Simon, he said his name was Simon, is balls deep in you. Your mind is all frazzled by good dick and you struggle to string your words together with any sense of coherence.

"Anything for you, Simon."

He is dark, mysterious with a gravitating pull and you wasted no time in stripping when he pushed you onto the bed in the cheap hotel. A military man, he certainly didn't enjoy wasting any time to get right into business. Pent up didn't cover how he was feeling, going by how feral his thrusts were and the power behind his hips.

The dick is good, but you can't help feel guilt.

Simon is married. To a woman.

You're not a woman. You're a cheap whore of a man willing to take anyone's dick for cash.

"Always wanted to do this. Fuckin' piece of shit father—" a sharp thrust "—always gave me shit for liking men."

His technique isn't perfect but there's a semblence of experience behind it; he must have experimented with other men before. There's a photo of a woman in his wallet when he flashed the wad of cash.

"You're doing so well, Simon." He preens under your praise and renews his vigour. It's the best you've ever had and you look foward to his messages the most.

It's so fucking good and pleasure is a bolt of lust emanating from your hips up in milky spurts of cum from your untouched dick. His hands leave imprints in your hips and he fills you up nicely with a long orgasm tapering off into a kiss.

The afterglow with Simon is always a treat. He runs a hand through your hair and lays an arm across your chest. Your breathing eventually returns to normal and you gaze at him. Hazel eyes, short hair and several scars on his cheeks.

You broach the subject with much care. "You have a wife, Simon."

"She's not you."

"Do you love her?"

His shoulders stiffened before they relaxed. "Don't think I do. 'M stuck in an arranged marriage and in hell."

"Still—"

"Didn't pay you for advice, lad."

You shut your mouth wisely at the tone in his voice. You once believed his wife must be a really lucky person to have him. To be with him and in his wallet. You don't think so anymore. Not when he is here with you in a hotel room and cuddling against your flank.

When his arm leaves your chest, stringy cum drips onto you and he disappears into the toilet for a shower. When you are done, he is back in his jacket and trousers with a simple mask on. He flips through his wallet and leaves the cash on the bedside table. Simon is more generous than other men, often leaving excessive amount of cash for your services.

He points to the cash. "'s for you. I'll message you if I want more."

"Anytime, Simon."

The door shuts behind him and you count the stacks he left behind. He left a huge tip again and you pocket the cash. It's wrong, but wrongness is subjective as hell and heaven are and when you are taking him so nicely, wrongness is a far flung concept with no precedence here. No strings attached was the motto of most sex workers but its a lie to say you didn't have any sort of preference for him.

He is divine and something wicked and desire is fire to see him more often. Be his little starlet, always shining for him with the lust in your eyes. You wouldn't live it down if you broke their marriage, but if he wasn't a willing partner to his wife, who would hold it against you for being his secret?

Not especially when he is more man than any other you've slept with.

Part 2

[mossy-chaos]

These are all of the codes I could find in the Book of Bill!

The order is decoded message-page-type of cipher

Spoilers under the cut (for those of you who decode yourselves):

Black and white-back of the cover jacket-authors cipher

Even his lies are lies-inside the front cover-theraprism cipher

Praise the fallen angle-first actual page-Cipheric (this is the only time Cipheric is used for some reason)

Olaf was here-same-rune (not sure what this is a reference to)

Remember us-same-Bill's cipher

Let him in and break the seal between what's fiction and what's real-books new master-Bill's cipher

The Axolotl thinks he's won but Ciphers games have just begun-handprint page-color cipher

Irregular-fake covers(very top)-color cipher

The one who writes the codes-about me-Caeser cipher

Glotto/slotheny-Magazine cover(7 new sins)-Bill's cipher (I love the new sins lol)

Not a phase-Stanford pines here(on the goth moth)-Authors cipher-love the jack skellington reference (if thats what that is lol)

Warning/Folding this card may/result in crossovers-the universe is a hollogram-rune (Maybe that's how we finally get an owl house/gravity falls crossover)

My optometrist never saw it coming-What is a human-Theraprism

Paper is book skin/Shave your grandma-Skin-Bill's cipher

Love pain-Bill's tattoo knuckles-Same

Lies-How to trick everyone into loving you-same

Regrowing limbs is Axy's art/but can he regrow a ripped out heart-How to cheat death-Bill's cipher (he must really be mad at the Axolotl)

Eye doctor of a different kind/who wants to make his patient blind-silly straws-caesar

The doctor says/three sips a day/will make the visions/go away-Same

Fussy eater/baby Billy/wouldn't drink/unless it's silly-same (love how this implies that he only drank out of silly straws)

Mason-Embarrassing memories-Bill's cipher (love seeing Dipper's real name again)

Booberry-the meaning of life(popsicle stick)-Bill's cipher

One eyed king-the early years-theraprism

Suck it-The good times(liscense plate)-Caesar

Can warp narrativity/protect fourth walls-Alert from time baby-A1Z26

Lone survivor of the Euclidean massacre-Rune (I wonder what happened during that event and what that event actually is)

Tantrum-Bill's Cipher

Which henchmaniac ratted me out-The shaman-Theraprism (I find this one funny)

Titans blood-the dark ages(Wizards hat)-Rune (Love the owl house reference here)

Suck it Merlin-Never trust a wizard-Rune

Daryll-Cipherstitions(lobster lord of the deep)-Theraprism (love how that's his name)

Curse Wittebane-Witchcraft-Rune

It's all made up-America(the dollar)-Caesar

Countries aren't-Bill's cipher

Rubberhose-Animation-A1Z26

Bill cipher-top secret file-Same

Six fingered freak-Lost in the woods-authors cipher

Stanley would have made her laugh-same (he just rolled better charisma dude)

If lost return to Bill-my muse and me-Theraprism (love how he said this means wise one and also more billford hehe)

Forget the past-A voice from the past page 2-Bill's cipher (this implies that Bill wants Ford to forget Stanley so he won't get in the way)

Hopefully F's gloves will hide what Cipher has done to my hands-I was wrong about everything page 2-Author's Cipher (I love this one <3)

Ouroboros-Wakey wakey here's a snakey (on the snake)-Bill's Cipher (I guess this is the snakes name?)

Miss you-try to forget (on window)-bro's secret code

Have I been too harsh all along?-Should I contact S-Bro's secret code

Hotxolotl-Dimensional authority call transcript (on the sauce packet)-Bill's cipher

I can write codes too it's not that hard!-Dipper's page-Bill's cipher (he do be flexing his intelligence there)

(What a buncha) Love ya bro-Stanley's letter-Bro's secret code (love how this shows that they both still remember the code they made up as kids)

Just fit in (repeated)-SSSSTANNNNLEEEYY-Rune

Holy mackerel-color cipher

AXOLOTLLOTAXOLOTLLOTLAXLOTLAXLOTLAXOLOTLLOTLAXLOTLAXLOTLAXOLOTLLOTLAXLOTLAXLO-Theraprism

Wellwellwellbeing-message from the theraprism-A1Z26

Spheremonger, Eternalor, Bill cipher, The Logicube, Paingorious, Jessica, Shadorg, Mr Silly, The beast-recent inpatient names-Theraprism (the hallucination dog is still creepy lol)

Justice for Scrimbles/Remember Grembley-inside Back cover-Theraprism/Rune (JUSTICE FOR SCRIMBLES!!!!)

Those are all of the codes that are in this book! (Or at least that I could find lol)

[yoonkinii]

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Baldurs Gate:

Astarion

We Were Human

Synopsis: Astarion died as soon as he became something the world has never seen before. No one noticed the damage before it was too late and the Astarion everyone loved was lost to the new one. No one could notice when the turn was slow and silent. He slowly lost the playful glint in his eyes. Lost the love he gaze upon me with. Lost everything that made him the man I loved. Oh, how I would give anything to get him back. I would gladly give up my damned soul for him.

(Aka you are transported back to the past in order to prevent Astarion from losing himself once more. The only problem? You don't have a lot of time.)

Theme Song: Vore - Sleep Token

"You have become the voice in my head Only recourse we're left after death Your viscera welcome me in, welcome me in My life is torn, my bones, they bleed My metaphors fall short in the end Your flesh and bone welcome me in, welcome me in Are you in pain like I am?"

Pairing(s): Ascended!AstarionxReader

Warning(s): Gore, blood, cruelty, cursing, death/murder, mentions of using oneself unwillingly, abuse. Its ascended astarion, prepare for the worst. (Will be updated as more parts are released)

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ...

Status: on hold

Note(s):

For the sake of the plot- Astarion will not automatically be damned from the start. In this world, Astarion becomes lost to the ascension overtime until he becomes the ascended vampire we know him to be in the game. Another note that should be highlighted is that this story will be told from the first person perspective since it benefits the story more than any other perspective.

You will also notice various things being different from the game. For example, Karlach will be able to stay in the ‘human’ world and she fixed her heart. (I love my girl, I’m not sending her back), Szaars palace has a different layout cause the one in the game was stupid. There will be more that you will notice in the future so beware. You notice many things that were not included in the game but it I ensure that it is on purpose and isn't just there randomly. It should also be noted that when I post, I post the raw draft before I go back and edit the story. I do this so I am able to post consistently without having readers wait. I will go back and edit once I am able so if you notice spelling mistakes, I apologize.

Soulless Soul

Spawn!AstarionxAbsolute!VampyreReader

 Synopsis: There he stands, eyes downcast and shoulders caving in on himself. He does not look weary as he was pricked and prodded to fit the standards of his master. He has no idea why he is here- lined up amongst his siblings in the dining hall. His back aches, scars he knows that have not healed properly catching onto the rough fabric of his shirt. He watched the floor, he knew better not to meet the eyes of the predators that lurked before. He doesn’t even look up when the hem of an emerald green dress stands before him.

“This one. I want this one.” 

He does not allow himself the privilege of hope to blossom in his chest at those words. 

Theme Song: Soulless Creatures - Aurora

All the pieces of my body's gone Look at me now and tell me how I feel inside Every pieces that I lost, I have loved

Warning(s):  mentions of sexual trauma, Physical assault, gore, death, panic attacks, cursing, (more will be added as the story progresses if needed)

Note(s): Redacted in case of spoilers. I will upload notes with the first chapter

Part(s): TBA

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Gojo Satoru

Perfectly Imperfect

Synopsis: Everyone is born with a soulmate. Everyone knows by the time they hit age 18, a different kind of soulmate mark will appear. Some are unable to see color until they meet their soulmates gaze, others have matching tattoos. These are the more common ones; ones that can be tracked down in history but others are rare. So rare that there’s rarely any information available about it. Rare like yours and the only case of this soulmarking was dated decades ago with only two lines describing it.

"Person A and Person B afflicted by this marking will discover themselves to be covered in string-like tattoo markings in certain areas. These areas are what the soulmate A or B deem unworthy of themselves; or rather, what they hate about themself."

This wouldn't be a problem for you if it wasnt for the fact that everything from the collarbone to your ankles was decorated in white string-like lines.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Theme song: Bonfire - wave to earth

What color is my sky painted? What color is your emotion? Close your eyes slowly and feel the wind. The bonfire is fading out. Maybe we are falling Falling down with the rain.

amore mio aiutami- Piero Piccioni (literally the song that plays when M/C looks at him)

Warning(s):

18+, Sub!Gojo (gasp!), cursing, mentions of self-hate, discussion of Self-hate, mentions of minor character death- Will be added as chapters progress but if you see something that I didn’t include here, please let me know!

Note(s):

Expect this to be a short fic. I do not plan on having this over 6 parts and even then it could be less or couple chapters more. Depends on how I write everything.

Part(s): TBA

Ryomen Sukuna

Snippets of Love

Synopsis: Glimpses of your relationship with Sukuna through prompts/questions.

Paring: Sukuna x Reader

Theme Song: Heart To Heart - Mac DeMarco

So I had a late Arrival So, we never saw the start of each others lives heart to heart

Notable tags: ModernAU, slight age gap, Canon/Fanon implements, Sukuna still has his tattoos, CEO Sukuna, uncle Sukuna, college student reader, pierced Sukuna.

Note(s): Inspired to do this series based on Kyarrcha fanart of Sukuna on Instagram! I want this to be mostly based on requests about certain moments such as when Sukuna and you first met, first date, and things like that. This can also include certain scenarios or environments. Feel free to send in requests but I will also add in my own takes.

Requests: Open.

Warnings: will be listed in the sections.

You are not required to read snippets in order, but it is recommended.

How y♡u first met Sukuna!

How y♡u met Sukuna again (and got his number)!

First date with Sukuna!

Sukuna letting y♡u doll him up!

Sukuna with drunk y♡u

Jealous Y♡u

Argument with Sukuna

Choso Kamo

Echos of Love

Synopsis: Choso is one of the few to possess abilities that transcend human limits. His family was taken away from him and he was given to serve the king. He was trained in nothing else but to kill and follow orders. He was a man made weapon. His name whispered in fear- the kingdom's boogeyman. He hates it though. Hates how his freedom was ripped from his hands. Hates how his ‘gift’ is more like a curse. He is offered a deal he can’t deny- transport the princess to safety in a neighboring kingdom. The only problem is, she’s the daughter of the man that took everything from him and she is being hunted down by unknown forces. 

Pairing: Choso x Reader

Theme Song: my love is mine all mine - Mitski

Moon, tell me if I could Send up my heart to you? So, when I die, which I must do Could it shine down here with you? 'Cause my love is mine, all mine I love mine, mine, mine

Notable tags: FantasyAU, Fanon (I am creating my own world and using some pieces of jjk in it), major character death, (Will be updated as chapters are released)

Note(s): Teehee, I love Choso.

Part(s): TBA

[nerdraging4point0]

Blood of Eden // Chapter 13 // Bad Omens Urban Fantasy Romance

Tropes and Tags: MM, MF, MFM, MFM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed men, polyverse, shapeshifters.

CW: 18+ only minors DNI. Urban Fantasy romance, Smut. Angst. Fluff (ish), Story includes D/S themes, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of drug use and distribution, mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, male receiving oral sex, female receiving oral sex, cuckolding, P/A sex, P/V sex.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @mysticdoodlez @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @cookiesupplier @meliferafaerie @concreteemo @itsafullmoon @letmeadoreyoux @transparentwitchnightmare @spicywhenspeaking @somewhere-diamond @iknownothingpeople @darling-millicent-aubrey @badomensls @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @badomensls @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @darkmxgician

Rosa had never felt more pressure weighing on her as she and Nick hurried towards the elevators and front entrance of the towering Laboratory, where a waiting city cab idled at the curb. With each step, Rosa's heart pounded and she couldn't resist the urge to constantly glance over her shoulder, paranoid that they were being followed or watched. Usually the easygoing, playful Nick was a calming presence, but today his demeanor had shifted - he was intensely alert, his eyes darting around as he subtly surveyed their surroundings, committing details to memory just in case. Rosa could see the tension in his posture, the way he was primed and ready to react at the first sign of trouble.

Once they were safely inside the elevator, headed back to the security of Skytower, Rosa finally allowed herself a moment to focus inward, reaching out with her mind to try and connect with Noah. But to her growing alarm, she couldn't seem to reach him - his presence, which was normally so quick to respond, now felt distant and elusive. Panic started to well up inside her as she strained to make contact, fearing that something had gone wrong. 

Easy Mistress, Noah's familiar and soothing voice echoed in her mind. We are working our way out of the compound but it hasn’t been easy. Master has been getting caught up in more work that people insist he finishes before we leave. 

The implications of the compound trying to deliberately hold them back sent a chill down Rosa's spine, and she struggled to suppress the ominous dread creeping into her thoughts.

I just wish the two of you were home. She hoped he could feel how sad and worried she was, how much she missed them.

You're not alone are you? his voice echoed in her brain.

No, Nick is with me. Rosa's mind was racing as Noah continued to reassure her, even as she entered the apartment. Their conversation quickly fell silent as she began to hastily pack a bag, unsure of exactly what clothes to bring. Thinking quickly, she opted for the practical �� a pair of tennis shoes and her most comfortable track suits and sweats. 

She had spent far too long living in the shadows, always on the move, constantly looking over her shoulder in fear. The life of running and sneaking around had become an unsettling, unnerving existence that she desperately wanted to leave behind. Being with Jolly and Noah she thought all that was finally behind her. As she carefully folded her clothes and packed them into her bag, her mind raced with thoughts of escape - meticulously planning out potential routes to slip past security, ways to evade detection, and even contingencies to ditch Nick if necessary. It was a life of constant vigilance and paranoia, never knowing when the other shoe might drop. She paused, waiting for Noah to inevitably protest, to argue that her plan was too risky, that she was being reckless. But the expected objections never came. She wasn’t sure if she was getting better at keeping their thoughts seperate or he was just too busy to notice.

 Changing into one of the solid black track suits and lacing up her sneakers, Rosa pulled the packed bag to the front door, her heart pounding with uncertainty. The afternoon pushed on with no more word from Jolly or Noah about when they’d return. Each minute passing by made her fear rise, she’d seen the future before or maybe she manifested it, whatever it may have been she wasn’t sure. But now when she needed it most she couldn’t summon it at all. Walking the length of her living room twice she pulled her hair back, took it down and pulled it back again before turning to Nick with a desperate look. “Should we just go now, somewhere safe maybe?” 

“Maria said you’d be safe here,” he argued. 

“I don’t feel safe, Nick. Something doesn’t feel right about staying,” she could hear the pleading in her own voice, the back of her throat burning and her eyes starting to sting. 

Nick took a deep breath pushing himself off the wall before nodding his head. “Let me make a call.” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket, before walking down the hallway as he dialed the number. 

Rosa took a deep, shaky breath, heading to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water, her hands trembling slightly. She gulped it down, trying to calm her nerves, but the feeling of unease refused to subside. All she knew was that she needed to get out of here, to find somewhere truly safe to hide. 

Her heart leapt to her throat as the front door suddenly burst open, several menacing beasts tearing through the entrance and into her apartment. The hunters in their ferocious, transformed states - their bodies twisted and distorted into horrific, bestial forms. Two of the creatures immediately zeroed in on Rosa, cornering her in the kitchen as she scrambled up onto the countertop, hugging her knees tightly to her chest in a desperate attempt to make herself as small a target as possible. The beasts' black, muzzled faces glared at her viciously, their sharp teeth bared and glistening despite the thick leather straps that kept their jaws clamped shut.

Just then, a terrible, raspy voice cut through the chaos, and Rosa reluctantly lifted her gaze to the doorway. There stood an older gentleman, his posture poised and dignified as he slowly strode into the room, his hands folded neatly behind his back. Dressed in a stylish, grey coat that flowed down to the back of his knees, the man's face was deeply lined, the cruelty in his expression becoming more pronounced as his thin lips curled into a wicked, predatory smile. "Well now," he drawled, his gaze fixated squarely on the terrified Rosa, "You must be Joakim's new pet." 

down the menacing figure before her, cornered and trapped like a caged animal. Every fiber of her being screamed to flee, to escape this terrifying predicament, but her legs felt frozen, paralyzed by the sheer panic coursing through her veins. She desperately wanted to cry out for help, but the words caught in her throat.

She kept her eyes focused on the sinister old man leering at her. His yellowed, crooked teeth were bared in a twisted grin, a predatory look that made Rosa's skin crawl as his piercing gaze settled on the hastily packed bag crumpled by the door. 

"Going somewhere?" he sneered, the menacing tone of his voice sending a shiver down her spine. 

Rosa wanted to scream, wanted to run, but she was cornered. She stared at the man, trying her best to remain calm.

Noah, noah I'm scared.

Her mind reached out desperately to him. But no answer.

“No,” she squeaked. 

Two hunters on foot came from the hallway, Nick's arms clasped behind his back as they pushed him along. Forcibly escorting him to thr man who was trespassing in her home.

"Ah, so they've sent you in place of the others, have they?" the man remarked, his tone laced with a sense of authority. He gestured with a crooked finger, and the hunters responded by shoving Nick even closer, their actions brimming with an underlying menace. Nick remained steadfast, his expression stoic, refusing to utter a word, his only response a defiant glare directed at the man before him.

The man's gaze then shifted to Rosa, and she felt her heart race with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. He turned back to Nick his impatience written all over his face.

“ Tell me, where are Maria and Oli?" he demanded, his voice dripping with a barely concealed impatience. Rosa's mind raced, the mention of their names sending a chill down her spine. Were they missing? She couldn't help but wonder, her anxiety building with each passing moment. The man's patience seemed to wear thin as Nick maintained his silence, and with a dismissive wave of his hand, he ordered the hunters to escort Nick away. Nick struggled valiantly, desperately attempting to free himself from their unyielding grip, but his efforts were futile against the sheer strength and determination of his captors.

Turning his attention back to Rosa, the man's expression darkened. "And you," he began, his words laden with a sense of foreboding, "You shall face trial." Rosa's eyes widened in confusion and alarm. 

"Trial?" she cried, her voice tinged with a growing sense of dread. The man's response was a weary sigh, as if the weight of the situation rested heavily upon his shoulders. 

"Morgan," he uttered, and from the corner of her eye, Rosa witnessed the hunter at her feet shift, rising to his full, imposing stature. Towering over her, the hunter let out a sickening growl, his muscles bulging as if he had been fueled by a steady diet of steroids. Without warning, he snatched Rosa's arm with a vice-like grip, and before she could even react, he plunged a syringe filled with a familiar purple hue deep into her flesh, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from Rosa as the potent substance coursed through her veins.

***

As Jolly sat at his desk, the spreadsheet Layla had insisted he complete for the upcoming taxes loomed before him, the due date still a full seven months away. He protested and argued even suggested taking the work home, hoping to tackle it in the comfort and privacy of his own office space, but Layla had pressed him to finish it right then and there. He thought it best not to argue, setting to work his mind constantly drifting to Rosa, who was alone at home while he and Noah were detained. The air felt heavy and charged, ever since Maria's call that morning - causing Jolly and Noahs nerves to be frayed and hyper aware of everything. Noah had a direct line of contact to Rosa but even that wasn’t enough, Jolly could tell Noah was desperate to get home-as was he, he was worried and missed their girl just as much as Noah did.

With a growing sense of unease, Jolly furiously punched in the final numbers, desperate to complete the task and return home as soon as possible. As he attached the file to an email and dialed Layla's number, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss - the usual routine had been disrupted, and found himself constantly looking over his shoulder. He pressed send on the email, fingers trembling slightly, mind racing with unanswered questions and a growing sense of foreboding about what might await them when the two finally returned home to Rosa.

He waited patiently as the phone rang, fingers drumming lightly on the surface of his borrowed desk as he slowly straightened up his workstation. 

"Layla Hersh's office," the secretary greeted warmly. 

“Yes, this is Joakim Karlsson, please inform Miss Layla that I have emailed her the statements and spreadsheets she requested and if there is any discrepancy or concern I will happily adjust them when I return home.” 

“Of course, sir. Noted.” he clicked the phone off, tossing it on his desk as he finished cleaning up the mess he’d made. 

“Mistress is worried, master.” Noah leaned against the doorframe, his dark hoodie and pants giving him a distinguished yet dangerous air as he guarded the halls, hoping no one would stop us again as we tried to make our escape. His brow was furrowed with worry, his normally well-kept hair ruffled from the numerous times he had run his hands through it in frustration. Despite the dark sunglasses shielding his eyes, the tension in his expression was palpable - it was clear something was weighing heavily on his mind. As he fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve, I could sense his unease.

As Jolly pulled the worn office jacket over his shoulders, a sense of unease washed over him. "Is she safe?" Hr asked, voice laced with concern.

"Yes, Nick is with her," he admitted, "but I'd rather it be us."  the worry in Noah’s tone obvious, and it only heightened Jolly’s own anxiety. Without hesitation, he crossed the room, scooping up his bag and tossing Noah's in his direction. Thankfully, Noah had already packed the rest of their belongings this morning while Jolly was in a meeting, ready to make a swift exit if needed.

Cupping Noah's cheek tenderly, Jolly leaned in, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to his lips. "I know, pet," he murmured, his heart aching to see him so distressed. "Let's get home, and the three of us can get away for some much-needed space." Noah nodded in agreement, stealing one more quick kiss before they headed out the door together, their steps quickening with each passing moment. 

The scent of ozone and damp earth wafted through the parking garage, a harbinger of the tumultuous weather to come. Summer's sultry embrace was just around the corner, a season that would soon bring with it a relentless onslaught of sweltering heat and violent thunderstorms. Jolly pressed the button on his fob hearing the chirp of their Denali down the aisle of parked cars. The bone-chilling sound that suddenly erupted behind him caused him to spin around in alarm. 

There was Noah, on his knees his bag lying forgotten on the ground as he clutched the sides of his head, his fangs bared and his eyes blacked out completely. A guttural growl and a scream of pure agony tore from his throat, the primal sounds sending a shiver down my spine. Dropping to one knee beside him, Jolly tried to discern what was wrong, but the tormented cries continued unabated as Noah doubled over, slamming his fist against the unyielding concrete. Noah's normally calm and composed demeanor shattered, replaced by a visceral display of unrestrained pain and anguish.

“Noah,” Jolly screamed over him trying desperately to get the hunter to focus, “Noah, what’s wrong?” 

Just as rapidly as the episode had begun, it now drew to a close. The wild, animalistic snarling subsided, his bared teeth sliding back into place with an audible click. The unnatural black hue that had flooded his irises receded, the warm brown tones returning to his eyes. A sheen of moisture glistened on his skin as he heaved for breath, the adrenaline rush that had fueled his frenzy now fading. Tears welled up, spilling down his flushed cheeks as he struggled to regain control, the remnants of whatever had overtaken him still leaving him shaken and disoriented. 

Jolly grasped Noah's face firmly in his hands, searching his eyes with deep concern. "Noah, pet, what's the matter? Is it Rosa?" the distress etched across his features as he struggled to catch his breath, his chest heaving with each rapid, shallow inhalation.

"The-the," he stammered, pausing to swallow hard and compose himself, "The magistrate has her." 

“Where is she headed?” Jolly asked frantically. 

“I don’t know,” Noah sobbed. “I can't....I'm....She's....gone."

[ponyosmom35]

First Makeout

Bittersweet chapter forty two

Steve Harrington x fem oc

synopsis: Indie and Steve makeout for the first time.

warnings: PG-13 content ahead, MDNI, makeout, grinding.

link to master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

The cool autumn breeze swept through Hawkins as Indie Holland and Steve Harrington found themselves alone at Steve’s house after an impromptu movie night. What had started as a casual hangout was slowly evolving into something far more intense and intimate. They had been gravitating closer to each other over the past few weeks, the air between them charged with an unspoken promise of something deeper.

As the credits rolled on the last film, neither made a move to turn on the lights, preferring the soft glow of the television to illuminate the room. The ambiance was just right: cozy, quiet, just the two of them tucked away from the world. Indie shifted slightly on the couch to face Steve, her heart beating a rapid tattoo against her ribcage.

“So, did you like the movie?” she asked, her voice a little more than a whisper, thick with the unspoken words that hung between them.

Steve turned to look at her, his eyes reflecting the flickering light from the TV screen. “It was great, but I think I’m enjoying the company even more,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. He reached out, tentatively tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

The gesture sent a warm shiver down Indie’s spine. She leaned into his touch, her breath catching as their eyes locked. The air around them felt heavy, laden with anticipation and a hint of nervousness from both sides.

Steve’s hand moved from her hair to gently caress her cheek, and he leaned in closer, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a soft, exploratory kiss that quickly deepened.

Indie responded with equal fervor, her hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss was everything she had imagined and more—intense, exhilarating, and frighteningly addictive. Steve’s hands roamed to her back, pulling her into him, deepening the kiss further, his heart racing with a mix of desire and a growing loss of control.

Steve grips her hips and pulls her onto his lap, groaning into her mouth as her clothed core meets his extremely hard dick. Indie slips up her lip locking at the sudden movement and looks down at where she was perched on his lap. Her eyes wide and face pink as she blushed. Steve observes her every move, careful to look for any sign of discomfort from her. 

“Why did the banana get a boner?” she asks, breaking the silence between their heavy breathing. Steve’s face falls in shock and she stares at him with a shit eating grin. She wished she could have captured the pure disbelief on his face in a photo. Steve doesn’t say a word as his grip on her waist tightens. “He found himself in an appealing situation” she finishes 

“You are so fucking annoying” he says before smashing his lips against hers once more. He’s unable to help the smile that creeps onto his lips as he kisses her. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from” she says against his lips 

“Shut up” he says gripping her face gently in his hold and pushing her head to the side so he can trail kisses down her neck. 

Her hands fly up to his forearms holding her still and grip him. Her mouth falls open as all of the words are taken from her lips. He continues his assault on her neck, sucking on her skin. “S-Steve” she whispers 

“Don’t have anything to say now do you?” he grins

He moves back up to her lips and captures them passionately. His hands fall back to her hips and he moves her against him. She gasps sharply as heat fills her body, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She could feel her panties growing wetter as his other hand slid to her thigh, rubbing it. She grips onto his hair pulling at it as she begins to grind against him unconsciously. She was so lost in the feeling that her lack of experience and insecurity had gone long out the window. 

Steve grunts and pulls her flush against him, feeling her large breasts pushing up against him and his cock began to throb. His hands slip underneath her shirt and grip her bare skin tightly. She moans into his mouth.

Steve groans loudly into her mouth “if you keep that up I’m gonna come in my pants”

“I’m okay with that”

As the makeout session intensified, Indie began to push harder against him, her movements becoming more bold and assertive. Steve, caught in the tide of rising emotions and physical desire, found himself nearing a point of no return. Every touch from Indie sent a jolt of heat through his veins, and he knew he had to slow down before things progressed too far too fast.

Reluctantly, he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily. “Indie,” he breathed out, his voice husky with desire but firm with resolve, “we should slow down.”

Indie’s eyes fluttered open to meet his, a mix of confusion and disappointment swirling in them. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Steve shook his head quickly, his hand cupping her face gently. “No, no, not at all. It’s just... this is really important to me, and I don’t want to rush anything. I want every part of this to be right, for both of us.”

Indie took a deep breath, processing his words, her initial disappointment fading into understanding. She nodded, managing a small smile. “I get it, and I feel the same. I guess I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

Steve smiled back, his relief palpable. He kissed her forehead softly. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I want you so fucking badly, this -” he says gesturing to her position on his lap “is everything to me, touching you is like a dream, but I want to do this right”

Indie nods and looks away feeling incredibly embarrassed and gets off of him, sitting on the couch once more. Steve wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his chest, stroking her swollen lips with his thumb. “I love you” 

“I love you too” she responds softly 

Steve kisses her gently, this one much shorter than the previous ones they’d shared. 

“Besides you don’t get to make me come before I’ve barley touched you yet” he whispers in her ear. 

Indie looks up at him for a split second in shock before hiding herself in his chest. Steve laughs and holds her against his chest. 

“What? No more boner jokes for me honey? Or am I making you nervous?” he asks 

“Shut up” she says slapping his chest. 

“I love you” he responds 

They settled back into the couch, a little space between them now, not as a barrier but as a mutual understanding of boundaries. They continued to talk into the night, their conversation meandering through dreams, fears, and hopeful plans for the future. The night ended with a promise of more to come, at a pace that respected both their feelings and the gravity of what was blossoming between them.

As Indie left Steve’s house that night, a sense of warmth enveloped her—a feeling of being cherished and respected, knowing that what they were building together was worth the patience and the care they were both willing to invest.

[8-rae-rae-8]

Dog fighting ring au (Graves' Part)

Phillip Graves - (Handler: Shepherd)

CWs: Graves' racism, hybrid fighting, abuse, drugging.

Characters: Roba, Ghost, Roba's men, Shepherd, Alejandro, Rodolfo

He's bait. A toy to his masters and a doll to his handlers. Scarred from head to toe, kept in no better condition than a sad dog bed in a cold, concrete room. Blond ears and sad tail with missing patches of fur. Ripped out too many times to count, so much so that hair stopped growing there. Or maybe it was the malnutrition, his body's attempt at self preservation. Or the fear he lived in, maybe even the anger.

It hurts. Every movement tore his skin. Every sound scratched his throat. When did he last have water? Food? He didn't know.

The only times he was allowed out was when his handler forced him to taunt a fighting dog. He was bait, just bait.

Nothing better than a toy on a string.

Still, he did his job well. Stalking the fighter infront of him. Black hair, with blond roots peeking through.. swollen parts of his ears. No shirt. Brandings. Scars. Fucked ribs. Bruises.

Huh. Maybe... Maybe some of the fighters understood what being in his position was. Full of pain and no help. Left in the rain or beating sun like a mutt.

The other hybrid didn't attack. He sat there and stared. Eyes narrowed as he watched. Nothing more. So he had to try harder. If he didn't- if he didn't, it might kill him. So be good. Listen. Fight. Taunt.

Graves tried. He stalked, barked, growled and hit.

The other hybrid only bit back when he finally hit a sensitive spot. Finally. Finally, he did his job. Riling up the mutt to get him ready for a fight.

That was all he was good for after all.

Graves quickly learns of the other's handler when he kicks Graves in the stomach and pushes something into his neck. Scary, tattooed, darker skinned. He associated it with pain, no matter how wrong. He didn't know any better.

The man showed each time the hybrid with dyed ears and tail was there. The other always looking at him with soft eyes. He had kicked Graves' ear once before biting him so hard he lost a chunk of his ear. Gentle, when his handler(s) wanted hurt.

That face followed him for weeks. Only ever picking him to prep for his mutt's fights. Graves didn't learn either of their names, he couldn't when he was whimpering in pain. More men joined, jeering and laughing. Not only at him but the other dog. Graves was drugged more than he could count. His handler didn't stop them. He encouraged it. The handlers loved being able to get away with this... Hybrids not human enough to be protected by most laws.

Whether he was unconscious or not for the baiting, he stopped remembering. The drugs affected his system more each time they hit. Withdrawals never happened, he was too much of a toy to be left to rot. A good toy too.

Their faces burned in his head. It didn't take long for him to associate anyone that looked like them with pain, fear and horrible anticipation for hurt.

When he woke to a man gently patting his cheek and laying him on something soft, his instinct was to bite and kick. A man with a beard, recently growing, eyebrows in a constant furrow. He didn't seem deterred when Graves tried to hurt him. Another man held him by his shoulders, clean shaven with kind eyes–Graves was too blind to see it.

These weren't his handlers. Why was the room filled with orders and different voices?? Hybrids left half dead on the ground, while men in so much gear tried to help them. What happened when he was out? Why did he hurt more than usual?

His back burned, stinging when it made contact with the soft thing. A bed, a stretcher.. he didn't know. He just tried to claw his way out of this, it usually worked. But these men were insistent. They kept him there, strapped him down and brought him somewhere else. Somewhere in the dim light of the night, sirens going off around him.

Graves caught one glance at that one fighter–the one with dyed fur–he was in a worse state. Not even conscious as a bearded man tried to wake him too. His chest stung. Was he alive?

He forgot about the men for a moment. It only took a second for him to be given some kind of medication in his veins. It burned, then made him a little floaty. The fear hit full swing again as one of the men said something to him. Something he couldn't understand.

He was back to thrashing in the stretcher, growling as his tail forcefully tucked between his legs.

Then it was black as something hot burned in his arm.

He'd woken up in a hospital. God knows how many days later. It was quiet. Near silent. An arm in a cast and most of his body bandaged up or stitched. He didn't even know he'd broken anything. It all does blend together in that life...

Those men came back and sat at his bedside. They explained what happened. A raid on the ring, many hybrids saved, many in hospitals, some handlers arrested. They said he was lucky not to have been awake and aware. Graves wanted to claw at them again. To hit. But he was held down by cuffs. It wasn't an option.

Trust wasn't an option. He had to trust them. And they tried to prove it.

Colonel Alejandro Vargas and Sargeant Major Rodolfo Parra.

It took upwards of a year for Graves to even think about letting them touch him. He flinched away and growled. He bit more than once. Rodolfo lost a bit of skin on his arm because of it. Graves never said sorry. He shouldn't have stepped in his space.

Still, he associated them with pain and fear. But the more he was brought safe food, bedding, and they literally picked him up out of closets when he had a flashback... It was hard to keep his guard up. They were kind. The other shoe didn't drop. He was warm and safe there.

Graves bit his tongue a lot. Bit back the urge to say things he had heard from that branded hybrid's handler. Mean things. Bad things. He wasn't a bad dog.

This place, a kind home, wasn't what he was used to. He didn't deserve it, he didn't remember if he ever even had that.

Rodolfo and Alejandro were sweet. Their voices felt warm to his wounded ears. No matter how hard he tried, he started to trust them. Those mean words only came back to him as intrusive thoughts or when he was angry. He had lots to unlearn still.

But he wasn't pushed away by them.

On rough nights, he inched closer to Rudy.

And one night he had it particularly rough. Graves settled himself at the end of Rudy's bed, and was never kicked out. No matter the shit he did, he was allowed to stay. Because it was getting better. He was getting better.

Pictures of Graves curled up on Rodolfo's bed have a folder on Alejandro's phone.

[dickarchivist]

Grave squad of the 404th.

This is the biography introduction for Grave Squad, clone OCs made by me. They're part of a fake battalion, the 404th. The jedi mentioned are for context only at this point, and are also my OCs.

Jedi of Note: Jedi Master Dax'Malkin Valka. Zebrak. General of the 404th. Padawan Athena Bello, near human. Master Dax's last Padawan.

Word count: 2815

Minors DNI 🔞 there is the N S F W alphabet for Grave Squad toward the bottom.

Meet The Clones!

Ghost, Phantom, Specter, Banshee, and Wraith!

Clone Captain 1313: Ghost

Nickname: none

Ghost is the oldest of the Grave Squad Clones. He's a mission focused and goal driven soldier, but this doesn't stop him from making time to check on his men. Ghost is known to be incredibly kind hearted, making sure that everyone in his command is taken care of before he takes care of himself.

During a field mission, Ghost sustained acid burns to his eyes while protecting natives. Ghost lost his eyes, but Master Dax saw to it that he be given cybernetics to stay in the fight and prolong his life. Ghost's eyes are predominantly white, with a gray iris and white pupil. The splash like scars remain across his eyes like a mask. Ghost has short hair, shaved on the sides with a slightly longer top. After his accident, Ghost starts growing facial hair. The dark hair is mixed with patches of silver, fading in some places.

ARC Trooper 1404: Phantom

Nickname: Tom/Tommy

Phantom's a little cocksure and brash. He likes to think himself the leader despite his place in the Squad, and will sometimes challenge Ghost for his position. He's never beaten Ghost, even when his Captain was blind. Phantom is extremely competitive, keeps count of Droid kills on missions, and is known to cause bar fights.

When he's in the field, Phantom earns his name. He moves silently and follows the orders to a T unless the situation calls for quick thinking, which it often does. He's best with long range assault, yet remains a vital assent in melee situations. Phantom sports goatee facial hair with longer locks. He ties it back with a beaded ribbon given to him by Athena.

ARC Trooper 1551: Specter

Nickname: Specs

Lovingly nicknamed "Specs" by his brothers, Specter is the more technologically inclined of Grave Squad. His area of expertise sits with improvised weaponry, often making explosives or blasters with anything he can get his hands on. Creating gadgets and hacking systems are his second favorite hobbies. His first is photography. Specter takes photos every chance he gets, and when asked why, he simply says, "Proof that we lived." He's a little harder to get to warm up than his brothers, very blunt, but he understands when gentleness is needed.

Specter has a shock of white hair on his head, fluffy and wild, a broad Mohawqk. The sides of his head are shaved, decorated with tattoos of intricate swirl patterns.

Clone Ordnance Specialist 1666: Banshee

Nickname: Ban

The scars on Banshee's throat tell many stories, but you won't hear them from him. His brothers can tell you a million different stories, but they always change, and Banshee won't tell you which one is true, if any of them. He's quiet, yet despite his role in demolition, he likes it quiet too. He wears in the ear headphones near constantly to drown out the tinnitus from explosions. some say he's deaf, but even so much as whisper his name and he'll look your way. But he's not mute. On the battlefield if you hear his voice, you either duck for cover or you run. Things are about to get loud. Banshee communicates in hand signs more than anything else.

Banshee is often seen with a neutral expression, and half hooded eyes, making him appear sleepy despite how high alert he always is. Aside from the scars across his throat, Banshee's hair is his most defining feature. Near shaved bald, the fuzz on his head is blonde. Sometimes, for fun, Banshee and the rest of Grave Squad will draw on his head. Athena once drew a heart near his temple. He had it tattooed there shortly after.

Clone Medic 1789: Wraith

Nickname: Ray/Rai

One of the hardest Clones to pin down, Wraith is always running from place to place without end. He's a worrier, much a mother hen, and consistently double checking to make sure everything is in order. He's one of the few people that can get Ghost to sit down and take care of himself before others. Wraith is incredibly firm when it comes to the safety of his brothers, and has been threatened with a court martial numerous times for disobeying jedi orders in favor of the preservation of his brothers. Luckily, Master Dax never let them take Wraith, always saying that the medic was indeed following orders, his orders.

Wraith loves flowers. He pressed them when he can, collecting new ones on his missions and preserving them between the pages of a hand bound book with blank paged that Master Dax made for him. Wraith has a slight mutation in his genetics, giving him one green eye, and one standard brown. He has a well kept beard, and a slightly longer, natural curly hair cut.

Some Spicy ABC's beyond this point 👀💦

NSFW ALPHABET FOR GRAVE SQUAD

A note: All of Grave Squad is Pan, they like everyone and everything. However, unless requested, I tend to write fem/afab partners for them. With that in mind, that's how these will be answered.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ghost: As with everyone under him, Ghost makes sure your needs are met. He'll man handle you, clean you up, had make sure you drink some water within the hour. If you're really messy, he'll take you to the shower and clean you up himself.

Phantom: he's shockingly clingy afterwards, asking if it felt good, if it still feels good, do you need a safe word next time, are you sure it was what you wanted, etc. For a man as outwardly confident as Phantom, he's very self conscious and craves your approval.

Specter: less so for after care. Specs would, with your permission, take a photo of the mess he's made of you, chuckling that it's his best work yet. Out of the 5 of them, Specs is the most likely to eat you out as a form of after care.

Banshee: he just wants to hold you. Keep you close, listen to your panting, the intense beat of your heart as it comes down. He'd enjoy Feather light touching, Whispers of kisses on warm skin. Soft, quiet, warm and safe. He'd want to stay in you as long as possible.

Wraith: he would stay as long as you wanted him to, but wouldn't be the most romantic for Aftercare. He'd wait for the body high to fall before taking you into the shower to clean up. He'd change the sheets before allowing you back into bed, only afterwards would he cuddle with you again.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ghost: he's a lips and breasts kinda man, that oral fixation. He thinks his hands are nice.

Phantom: thinks he's the maker's gift to the galaxy, all of him is his favorite. He loves soft tummies and thighs on his partners.

Specter: takes pride in his arms and hands, they're quick, strong, and skilled. Loves to look you in those pretty eyes of yours

Banshee: he likes his tummy, its not rough chisled, but solid still. He likes that when he's not flexed, he has a little belly roll. Its not a body part, but he loves your voice. It's the only sound in the galaxy he'd want to hear all day long.

Wraith: his eyes and nose are his favorites on him, making him unique from the very start. He takes his time appreciating your whole body, stating that every part is his favorite, though you do catch him looking at your ass and chest very often.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Grave Squad: they all enjoy spending themselves inside their partners, but even more when their partners cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ghost: He gets jealous so quickly. He doesn't have personal possessions, but you belong to him, and if anyone makes him feel even the slightest insecure about that, he's quick to remind the galaxy who you belong to.

Phantom: he'll try to deny it, puts on a convincing act, but Phantom likes it when his partner takes control. He'd never ask for it, but he craves it.

Specter: when he's in a creative rut, Specs will wear a pair of your panties that he stole from you. Sometimes he'll wear them just for fun.

Banshee: listens to a recording of the two of you having sex almost every single day. His headphones are always on, no one is the wiser.

Wraith: once accidentally exposed himself to a powerful aphrodisiac he was researching and pretended to be sick because he couldn't get his boner down for 8 hours. Spent that time furiously going solo.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ghost: he's had his fair share of flings and one night stands, but yearns for more.

Phantom: first of Grave Squad to fuck, and has not stopped since. He's here for a good time.

Specter: much like Ghost, he's experienced the throws of passion.

Banshee: he's selective, and needs connection before making a physical one, but has had a handful of goes around the bases.

Wraith: someone draw this man a map, he can't find a date

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Grave Squad: any position they can see their partner's face in

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ghost: knows when to make a joke during sex, knows when to be heartfelt

Phantom: makes jokes afterwards, to cover up his insecurities

Specter: does not joke, but will chuckle if you do

Banshee: barely talks. If he does make a joke, it'll likely go over your head in the moment.

Wraith: jokes when he's nervous, so very often at first, but less and less the more serious the relationship.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Grave squad: all very well kept, Ghost doesn't let them get nasty (neither does Wraith). And yes, the carpet matched the drapes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ghost: he gets wistful, thinking of the future almost breaks his heart, because he doesn't know if he has one. But he wants to, with you, and he'll tell you that over and over. "I want a life with you."

Phantom: once you've broken down his fuck boy walls, Phantom is actually really romantic. He does stereotype romance when he thinks you're just in it for the sex, but once you've actually started to get serious he puts in the effort.

Specter: his romance is in subtle ways, like calling you by your first name when he only ever calls you by a pet name or your title. He may be softer with you, or come to you for creature comforts without the need or want for sex.

Banshee: if he speaks around you, fuck everything else, that's how you know he loves you. He uses his voice.

Wraith: his version of romantic interaction is a strange meld of his brothers, but above all else, he'd bring you flowers. Not just pressed ones, but live flowers, even ones he made with metal or papers.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ghost: he doesn't do it often, but when he does he makes sure with 100% certainty that no one will hear, see, or interrupt him. Ghost is very private.

Phantom: has no shame, but at least has the decency to wait until he thinks his brothers are asleep.

Specter: will go solo to relieve stress, but otherwise doesn't unless it's part of sex with you.

Banshee: once a day, no one knows that he does.

Wraith: very bad at hiding the fact that he does, because he can't keep quiet.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ghost: breeding, marking/possession, over stim, nipple play, oral fixation, being called "daddy", body worship, Achluophilia (darkness/blindfold)

Phantom: punishment (recieving, light when giving), sub/Dom play (both ways), wax play, praise, public sex, teasing,

Specter: bondage, recording, edging/denial, over stim, public sex, lingerie, underwear

Banshee: Akophilia (arousal through sounds), body worship, shower sex, face sitting (partner on him), Somnophilia (sleeping sex (with consent))

Wraith: Vicarphilia (hearing of other's exploites), breath play, medical play, shower sex

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) (other than the bedroom)

Ghost: over his desk

Phantom: in any risky spot

Specter: in front of windows/ mirrors

Banshee: in the shower

Wraith: exam chair/table

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Grave Squad: their partner, always.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Grave Squad: non-concent, dehumanization, age play

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ghost: loves both

Phantom: likes recieving, loves giving

Specter: doesn't like recieving, enjoys giving

Banshee: loves both, especially giving

Wraith: likes both, getting better at it

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Ghost: depends on partner's desires

Phantom: rough and fast until bonds are made, then slows down sometimes

Specter: sensual, but hard

Banshee: slow and sensual

Wraith: clumsy, slow, and giggly

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Ghost: enjoys them, but not as much as feature length fun

Phantom: loves em, but less when youre serious with him

Specter: he'll give you oral for a Quickie but doesn't like them for himself

Banshee: would only do it if you asked him to and seemed absolutely desperate

Wraith: so excited about the idea, would love to, as often as you'd like.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Grave Squad: they'll try damn near anything at least once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Ghost: 4 rounds, 10-15 min each, 2-5 minutes between rounds

Phantom: 3 rounds, 8-12 minutes each, 3-5 minutes between first 3 rounds, 6-10 minutes between final rounds

Specter: 3 rounds, 10-15 minutes each, 1-3 minutes between each round.

Banshee: 3 rounds, 15-20 minutes each, 2-3 minutes between rounds.

Wraith: 2 rounds, 5-8 minutes each, 3-5 minutes between rounds (he'll get better with practice)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Ghost: doesn't use toys, but wouldn't be adverse to trying for his partner

Phantom: loves toys, uses them for both

Specter: uses toys on partner

Banshee: loves a good cockring, anything to prolong the process

Wraith: doesn't know enough, but would be very excited to try them out

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ghost: teases a little (until you tease back/make him jealous, then all bets are off)

Phantom: teases until you tell him to stop

Specter: King Tease, doesn't stop until you use the safe word

Banshee: doesn't tease verbally, only touch, and only until you're in the mood and say you're ready for him

Wraith: would try to tease, but wouldn't be good at it. Unknowingly teases most of all.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ghost: moderate, doesn't get too loud but can be vocal. Grunts and moans, growls. Checks in throughout, light dirty talk sometimes

Phantom: moderate to loud. Talks through the process, shouts when he climaxes unless he's going solo. Dirty talk and check ins veiled as dirty talk

Specter: low to moderate, brief check ins. Dirty talk in a whisper, will call you names if you're into it.

Banshee: silent for the most part. Breathy panting, soft grunts. Focusing more on the sounds you make. Eye contact for check ins

Wraith: moderate to loud. Panting, moaning, grunting, begging and praise.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Ghost: watching you ride him is one of his favorite sights

Phantom: makes sure you climax at least twice while with him

Specter: gets off on you getting off, way more than anything else.

Banshee: wants nothing more than to slowly fuck you for an entire day, would spend hours worshipping your body if given a chance.

Wraith: has a fantasy about having sex on a beach, but wouldn't do it because it's very risky health wise. Thinks about it often, though.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Ghost: above average length, average thickness

Phantom: average length and thickness

Specter: average length, slightly above average thickness

Banshee: above average length and thickness

Wraith: average length and thickness

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Ghost: 8/10

Phantom: 8/10

Specter: 7/10

Banshee: 10/10 (surprise)

Wraith: 5/10

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ghost: doesn't fall asleep until after you do

Phantom: falls asleep within 20 minutes of finishing

Specter: falls asleep within 30 minutes of finishing

Banshee: stays awake as long as he can just admiring you

Wraith: once his Aftercare routine is finished, he's out within moments unless you keep him awake.

[wishmaster]

At a Price

I heard about your sister’s store. Is it possible to buy something for my ex? We were a cute gay couple till he ghosted me when he found out about my kinks. However, now he is clearly together with someone even more kinky than me.

This was teh first photo he ever sent me. We were togethr for 6 months before I decided to tell him I enjoyed wearing leather clothing. I thought he might find it strange, not every guy is in to it, but when I showed up to our date one night looking like this.

He called me a damn freak in the middle of the club and stormed out. That was the last i heard from him, I'm not ashamed at who I am or what I like, but that whole night was embarrassing. But last week after nearly a year after he disappeared I saw him and his new man on social media.

And what's worse is I know the guy he's dating, he's even kinkier than me in fact I'm tame compared to the shit he likes to do so I was a freak for merely enjoying leather? I needed to show him who the freak was, That's why I contacted you Camilla, you came highly recommended as a go to in the revenge business.

You've come to the right place. Seems he loves his youth, healthy lifestyle and athleticism from what I gathered. You have anything of his? She asked as I gave her a toothbrush he left behind.

Perfect she to the toothbrush and used his DNA to begin her spell.After a few minutes a black smoke came off the toothbrush. Its done. She said as she snapped here fingers and her magic TV appeared, lets watch.

There the asshole was posting a selfie. Look at his dumb beautiful face.

He was quickly snatched up by someone and hauled away.

He was placed in a full leather suit, a gas mask places over his head and he was forced to inhale various potions that would alter him body and soul.

Next time flew by a few weeks had passed and now he was older and no longer the atletic stud he once was, his body now was home to several tattoos and piercings. He lay at his masters feet fast asleep.

After about a week he was well over fifty, by the time the spell ended the former college jock was sitting in his 60's

A dedicated Leather bear / Daddy now he had embraced the leather lifestyle he once called freakish. He spent his entire life dressed like this and owning younger boys..

Like you, suddenly you find yourself chained and caged up, totally naked and on display for your new master, While he was aged up, he liked them young and now you were a skinny twink boy about 19 now.

Daddy's gonna have fun molding you boy. You could hear your ex say in his new gruff older voice. He flicked the ash from his cigar on to you.

Then you hear a feminine voice it was Camilla, she spoke to you psychically.

Thanks for choosing me for your revenge and remember magic always comes at a price especially to those purchasing it. Enjoy your new life. Please recommend me to your friends.

[his-word-my-law]

Six years ago I met my Master.

When we met, neither of us had any plans or aspirations to enter the realms of M/s.

He was naturally dominant, I was naturally submissive.

That's where it started.

We connected very quickly. Our relationship evolved and grew. It became clear that we were beyond Dom/sub. We knew we were now more in the domain of Master/slave.

He collared me as such in December 2017, four months after we met. And then on the first anniversary of that meeting, He took me for a tattoo.

He isn't only my Master, and I am not only His slave.

We are in love. We live together. We do everything that "normal" (such a silly word, lol) couples do.

This isn't kink, or "play" (hate that word too 😋). We don't have a dungeon, do "scenes" or go to bdsm events.

We live everyday our own way.

Or rather, in terms of my actions, behaviours and the way i do cerain things, we live HIS way. But that's because His way is now my way.

I'm not brainless or voiceless. I have a strong mind and equally strong opinions. I (too often) use my voice a little too quickly. My attitude gets in the way. But I'm human. I'm not the generic misconception of a consensual slave.

Does that attitude go unchecked? Nope. No chance 😳😅. It gets corrected pretty quickly.

But this is our life together.

And it's a good life ❤️.

[bihanspookies]

Heyy, Would you mind if I requested something for Quan Chi? The fem!reader loses her virginity to him :3 ( it’s totally fine if you’re not comfortable with writing for him)

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND 🫶🫶🫶

I hope I did him justice for you!

Summary: You’re Quan Chi’s apprentice and after completing one of his more tedious lessons, he decides to have a drink with you. You may or may not have let it slip that you’re inexperienced and also that you fantasize about your first time being with him.

Warnings: Fem reader, age gap (reader is early 20’s and Quan Chi is who knows how old he’s just old lmao), p in v, oral (m+f), minor choking, virginity loss, shy inexperienced reader, quan chi gets a smidge freaky deaky👁️, soft!dom quan chi with one or two moment of him being a little mean?, reader is implied to be in love with him.

“Be careful what you wish for, little one.”

Quan Chi’s voice rumbles through your chest, traveling all the way down to the ends of your toes. You peer up at him from your place on your knees, your skin pressing through the material of your pants and onto the rough ground, leaving imprints behind. How you ended up here you didn’t quite remember, all you recall is having a bit of a celebratory drink with your master after successfully completing one of his lessons.

He sits poised on his throne, it was a chair really, but with how much you admired him anything he touched automatically became regal. He was meticulous, pragmatic, intelligent, all things you looked up to along with other traits he possesses. Conniving, manipulative, and cunning are just a few of the things that make up your glorious master Quan Chi.

A long white finger sets under your chin, tilting your head up a bit higher as his crimson eyes inspect you. You remain perfectly still, allowing your master to maneuver you however he pleases. He places the tip of his finger on either side of your chin to turn your head side to side, not a word spoken from his painted lips until—

“Speak, child.”

His usage of that word has your stomach twist. You were young yes but not nearly as naive or dim witted as some other people around your age. Quan Chi on the other hand had years and years upon you, looking no more than a 50 year old man. You swallow hard to quench your dry throat, your fingers flexing into the meat of your thighs as you try to conjure up the courage to tell him what you really want. Normally you’re never this reserved, this quiet, always speaking your mind to Quan Chi (in a respectful way of course) and he admired you for it.

But this wasn’t another necromancy lesson, this was you potentially asking your teacher to take something very precious from you.

You cast your gaze downwards to which he responds with a two finger tap to your cheek.

“Eyes on me. Do not look away when I ask you a question.”

The command in his voice sends a chill down your spine and you do your best to suppress it. He notices of course, takes in the way your shoulders tense the slightest bit and how the barest array of goosebumps break across your skin. The area between his eyebrows creases and you have the urge to smooth it out with your thumb, kiss it away with your lips and show Quan Chi what you want rather than say.

“Apologies, Master Quan Chi.”

He removes his finger from your face to gently put his hand up, commanding you to stop.

“We are not master and student right now.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you clear it to answer him back.

“It seems we are not.”

Your response has the corner of his lips quirk up the faintest bit, having him lean back in his chair and uncross his legs. Your eyes trail down his form, his muscles, white skin and red tattoos shining in the orange hue of the overhead lights. They give him an almost ethereal glow and you find yourself imagining his chest without his cuirass, how his muscles would shift and move as he towered over you—

“Lost in your thoughts again, little one?”

His laughs rings beautifully in your ears, dark and rich like him and you find yourself smiling back softly at him. You lock eyes with him, the deep reds of his irises swirling with amusement and something else.

“Apologies Ma— Quan Chi…”

He gives a singular nod, the subtle widening of his legs not going unnoticed by you. You yourself move closer to him, just enough for your knees to touch the ends of his boots. He rests his arms on the sides of his chair, expression now unreadable and he silently ponders how to move forward with you.

“I need to hear your words if you wish to proceed.”

Even in a situation such as this he remains ever so methodical and professional. It brings a grin to your lips, making him tap his foot to grab your attention.

“I want to do this. With you. I…” You shift on your knees, scooting just a bit more in between his legs.

You wouldn’t say those words now, not yet. It wasn’t the time nor place.

“I trust you.”

His smile grows just a fragment bigger, eyes taking in your form kneeling at his feet.

“You will listen to every word and command I say, understood?” You nod, excitement and heat pooling in your belly.

“Words, little one.”

“Yes Quan Chi.” He smirks at you, tapping the tips of his fingers in a rhythmic pattern on the sides of his chair.

“Unbuckle them.”

You’re confused at first, wondering what he’s referring to until he makes a very pointed look towards his groin. Your eyes visibly widen, only now noticing the tent that has formed behind his pants. You move closer, hands trembling slightly as they go and settle on his buckle. You look up for affirmation, only to find him staring down his nose with no expression whatsoever.

You undo the buckle, your heart thudding wildly behind your chest as your stiff fingers pull down his zipper. You brush against his bulge every so often and it makes your mouth salivate. Soon enough it rests in between the flaps of his pants, hiding behind his dark undergarments. Your fingers skim down the length, eyes half lidded as you feel the heat seep through the material.

Quan Chi only watches you, waiting with vacant eyes as you simply touch him. He’s a man of patience, but blood continuously rushing south the more you caress him. Even a sorcerer such as he can only be so patient before he cracks and orders you to place him in your mouth.

Just when he was about to speak up, his eyes widen the tiniest fraction when you lean forward to kiss him, your lips burning through the fabric and straight onto his cock. You look up at him to see if what you did was okay and when he gives the barest nod of acknowledgement you go forward and pull his garments down.

Gods he was truly magnificent on every inch of his body wasn’t he.

Nestled under a neatly trimmed bush of dark hair, the red tattoos adorning his arms also decorated the sides of his shaft. The dedication he had for the Dragon King’s army knowing no bounds as its intricate pattens that were found on the tomb, decorated him from base to just under the tip. You were clearly zoned out in taking in his appearance, your glazed over eyes making the sorcerer chuckle.

“You understand how to give oral, yes?” He rests a hand on the back of your head, massaging your scalp as he waits for your answer.

“The basics, yes.” Your voice is soft but firm, forcing yourself to look Quan Chi in the eyes.

“Then trust I will guide you. You said you trusted me so show it.” His hand pushes on the back of your head, your nose and lips skimming across his pale white skin. He removes his hand from you once your mouth starts moving on its own, skirting to his tip and pressing against the small beads of cum that’ve collected. Your lips part and your tongue shyly flicks out to taste him, his seed thin and slightly bitter tasting. You want to peek up and look at him, but you will yourself to not and instead wrap your lips around his head and circle your tongue around.

He’s still, not moving an inch or making a peep and you think you have to do more to get some sort of reaction from him. Slowly you sink down, taking your time to let your mouth adjust to his size, the ends of your teeth scraping lightly against him.

“Mind your teeth, little one.” His voice speaks up suddenly, your body flinching. He laughs again, placing his hand on the back of your head.

“Relax.” He tells you, smoothing his hand over before laying against the arm of his chair.

You get back into it, taking your time to taste and feel the weight of him on your tongue, closing your eyes and letting yourself feel in the moment. At one point you try to to go all the way down to the base, it proving more difficult than you thought because you gagged around him, your head rushing back up to take him out your mouth. Your cheeks burn from embarrassment, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He’s quiet and you’re too ashamed to look at him, taking a deep breath to try again. You grasp him in your hand and part your lips.

“Enough.”

He moves to stand, making you inch back on your legs. He tucks himself back in and holds a hand out to you, waiting for you to take it. You place your hand in his and he helps you stand up. His expression is unreadable but you think you can make out the faintest smirk on the corner of his lips.

“Let’s move somewhere more… comfortable.”

———-

You thought Quan Chi was perfect in every way, from his mind to his soul (or lack there of) to his body. But in this exact moment you wish he had hair on his head so you could grasp it tight in your fingers and pull him closer to your aching cunt. All you could do was squeeze your thighs around him as he drove his tongue into you agonizingly slow, taking his time to taste and feel how you clamp around him. His fingers dug into your thighs, forcing you still as his sharp nose pressed into your clit. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but instead let out a high pitched moan as Quan Chi moves to suck harshly at your bud, teasing two fingers back into your warmth. He sinks them all the way to the knuckles, your soft walls pulsing around him deliciously.

“You taste delectable, my dear.” He groans, locking eyes with you as he kisses up your body, his lips leaving burning trails in their path as he makes his way to you. His long nimble fingers massage your flesh, teeth biting just enough to send a quick sting, tongue immediately soothing over the faint indents. Soon he hovered over you, his cock resting on your thigh and arms placed on the sides of your head.

He dragged his hand down your frame and gave your breast a firm grasp, his nails leaving behind crescent marks and thin red lines as he continued to scratch his way down.

He hooked your legs over his hips, pushing himself in between your slick folds, nudging his head against your swollen clit.

“How small you are beneath me, little one. So fragile…” His fingers envelope your throat, giving an experimental flex and enjoying the way he can feel your muscles tense beneath him. Your breath hitches, your own hand coming to graze against his cheek. For the briefest moment he’s eyes soften, shoulders slump the tiniest fraction and his fingers let up a centimeter. But as quickly as it came it disappeared, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk.

“I’ll ask you one more time. You trust me, yes?”

“With my life.” His smirk grows bigger, his hands coming to grasp your hands and lock them above you.

“Excellent.”

One hand illuminates green, rotating in a half circle and you feel something bind your wrists together, pinching them. Twisting your head up, your stomach tightens with fear and excitement when you see a glowing skull and spinal cord, the skull perched right over your fingers. Your graze drifts back to Quan Chi’s, an eerie smile painted on his black lips.

He grasps himself, dragging the head up and down your sticky folds before lining up with your hole. He pushes in slightly, your body tensing from the sudden intrusion. He pauses, but doesn’t remove himself, his eyebrow raising at you.

“You wanted this, remember? Trust your master.”

You slowly let your breath out, your fingers twitching to reach out and touch him, being mildly annoyed that he decided to tie you up.

Quan Chi pushes forth again, inch by inch sinking into your warmth. You force yourself to focus on his face, ignoring the pain and memorizing his features, the way the space between his eyebrow crease once again. A muscle in his neck ticking, nails piercing right into your skin.

“Oh, Gods—“ You whimper, your cheeks burning hot and feeling the stretch of him fill you out. A snicker bubbles from the necromancer, observing how you’re slowly crumbling from him and he hasn’t even started to properly fuck you yet.

“Look at you, already falling apart on my cock, hm? Pathetic, really.” His words barely register in your brain, too zoned in on the way his pelvis brushes against your clit.

“Look at me.”

You look at him in a daze, your walls involuntarily clamping around him.

“Look at me as I bring your body to immeasurable heights of pleasure. How I will ruin you for anyone else.” He places both hands on your thighs, his fingers gripping onto you as he starts to rock his hips. He watches the way he disappears, how you swallow his cock, your arousal adding a glistening shine to the tattoos adorning his pale skin.

His lips part ever so slightly, the sounds of your wet cunt filling his ears and dripping down to soak his black satin sheets. It’s a sight he could have on replay for the rest of his life, your whimpers and whines urging him to take you harder and faster. But he withholds himself, knowing that your first time should be should be tender, or at least as tender as he could be.

He thumbs your clit, rotating circles as he shifts his hips more, his other hand coming to grasp onto your breast. His calloused palm engulfs it completely, kneading it to the rhythm of his thumb. You can feel yourself succumbing to the white hot pleasure coursing through your veins, yanking against your bindings to attempt to touch him but they only get tighter with every pull.

“Quan Chi….”

His gaze snaps to you, hand leaving your breast to cup around your throat. Your pulse jumps beneath, mewling when his thumb and index press into you.

“I’ve had many lovers, but not as intoxicating as you. Such a pretty thing…” The knowledge of him taking others makes your stomach churn in an unfamiliar way. Jealousy yes but also knowing that he knows exactly how to treat you makes you whimper. His still moves at a calm pace, steadily driving you up the wall because you want more.

You need more.

“Please, I need—“

“Demanding something of me, little one?” You gulp, opening your mouth to respond but he cuts you off, tutting and shaking his head.

“What a needy thing.”

At the same time his grip around your throat tightens and his hips move harder, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. Your eyes flutter, a slow whine passing your lips as the pleasure increases throughout your body. Quan Chi laughs, loving how your form just complies to him, molds and shapes to everything he gives you. It’s a dark feeling that swirls within him, for he’s used to manipulating and commanding others to be in his control.

But this was different, you were different and he loved it.

You can feel your muscles tensing in your stomach, the familiar knot building higher and higher until you were sure that you were going to black out from how much pressure was building up.

He presses harder on your clit, fucking your cunt with more vigor, wanting to witness the moment you come undone.

“Look at you, ready to come apart from my cock. Go on then, come.”

He leans closer to you, smirking down as he feels your pussy start to spasm around him.

“Such a good girl.”

Stars and colors burst in your vision, body jerking as your climax takes over. Your legs squeeze shut around his hips and pull him in closer. He continues to fuck you, abusing your sensitive clit while engraving your convulsing body into his mind. He can see you struggling against your restraints and for a moment he decides to indulge you, waving his magic away to release you. Your shaky hands shoot out and clasp onto his shoulders, bringing him to your level and burying your face into his neck.

He runs his hand up and down your side, removing his thumb from you and going to pet your head in a soothing gesture.

“Poor pretty thing.”

He feels how shaky and hot your breath is against his neck, sending shivers down his back. His cock throbs in you, reminding you that he didn’t finish. You pull back and stare deep into his eyes, coming to cup his cheek.

“You didn’t— you didn’t c—“

“No, but no matter.”

He teases his lips against yours, the tip of his sharp nose sweeping over yours.

“I still have much more to teach you.”

[teine-mallaichte]

Day 1 @augusnippets : gaslighting

Characters: 84 and Colonel Carter

Colonel Carter is determined to create the perfect unthinking, unfeeling, living weapon, and has chosen 84 as their subject. CW: gaslighting, psychological manipulation, manipulative whumper, living weapon wumpee.

Asset 84 master list

Complex 27 master list

Colonel Carter monitored the live feed with a smirk, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the arm of her chair. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, where 84’s distress was becoming increasingly evident. This was the culmination of her meticulous work—a perfect operative who would never falter.

“We’re seeing significant stress indicators in 84’s biometrics,” reported a technician, his brow furrowed as he checked his tablet.

“Excellent,” Carter replied, her gaze unwavering, a sloght smirk on her lips “Inform me immediately when their stress levels hit the critical threshold.”

She turned back to the monitor, her eyes sharp and calculating. Over weeks, she had slowly dismantled 84’s confidence. Small, insidious changes - an almost imperceptible shift in the jumpsuit’s shade, fluctuations in temperature, rearranged items - had finally begun to show through 84’s conditioning. The asset’s facade was cracking.

In 84s quarters, every object was precisely arranged: the cot a foot from the wall, the locker’s latch firmly in place. Yet today, everything felt off, minor yet unsettling shifts.

The mantra that once fortified them now felt like a fragile shield, barely holding back the rising tide of anxiety. “I am 84. I am a weapon. I will endure.” But beneath the surface, doubt was creeping in—an insidious thought whispering, “Am I failing? Boken? What if I am defective?” They touched the tattoo on their neck—‘I am 84’—seeking comfort but finding none. Defective assets were expendable, disposed of, maintaining composure was imperative.

Reaching for the locker latch, they felt an unusual chill. The latch’s resistance seemed to waver, heightening their discomfort. Each glance around the room revealed subtle, unsettling changes—the angle of the cot, the flicker of the lights—distorting their sense of normalcy.

When Colonel Carter’s voice crackled over the intercom, it was both a lifeline and a torment. “Asset 84, report to the briefing room.”

84 hesitated, though they were unsure why, their handler had called, they were meant to react instinctively. Repeating their mantra a few more times they left their quarters, each footfall echoing ominously.

The corridor lights, once steady, seemed to flicker intermittently. Shadows stretched and shifted along the walls, creating an unsettling, almost imperceptible dance. The feeling of being watched, every step scrutinsed, felt suffocating today.

Two armed guards stood at the end of the hallway, their faces impassive, eyes hidden behind dark visors. The sight of their weapons, gleaming menacingly under the flickering lights, added to 84’s growing unease. "I am 84," they repeated again in their mind.

Entering the briefing room, the stark contrast was jarring, the room was dim and grey - unlike the bright white corridor. Colonel Carter sat at the head of the table, her posture impeccable, a predatory glint in her green eyes.

“Sit,” Carter commanded, her voice sharp as a scalpel.

84 obeyed, their gaze flickering nervously to the surveillance camera in the corner. Was it watching them? Had it always been there? They shifted in their seat, trying to suppress the instinct to fidget, their knuckles white as they gripped the edge of the chair.

Carter’s eyes remained locked on 84, her face a study in cool professionalism. “Your performance has been exemplary,” she began, her voice deceptively warm, though a glint of cold satisfaction flickered in her green eyes. “However, there are some concerns. Your stress levels—”

“Stress?” 84 interrupted, their voice breaking slightly. “I do not—”

“Do not interrupt,” Carter snapped, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Flawless performance is the bare minimum. Doubts and weaknesses are the cracks in the armor that can lead to your downfall.”

84’s breathing quickened, their hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the chair, trying to remain still but failing, “I will not fail. I…” 84’s throat tightened, their voice a strained whisper. “I trust you, Colonel.”

“Good,” Carter leaned forward, her fingers steepled, a predatory glint in her eyes. “You’re a weapon, 84 - a crucial asset. But even the best tools need careful handling, or they can break.”

The room seemed to tilt for 84, their senses overwhelmed. The sharp, sterile scent of the briefing room mixed with the rhythmic hum of unseen machinery, adding to their disorientation. “I will not break,” they managed to assert, only barely suppressing the tremor in their voice.

Carter’s eyes narrowed slightly as she observed 84’s reaction, her expression composed but her gaze colder now, more calculating. She leaned back again, folding her arms with a deliberate motion that seemed to dismiss 84’s protests. “Good,” she repeated, her voice softening, but laced with an undertone of authority, "Doubts are natural, but they can be dangerous. It’s vital you stay focused and trust the guidance you’re given.”

84 nodded, their gaze fixed on the metal table. Was it always this color? The surroundings seemed to shift subtly, their sense of normalcy eroding with each passing moment. They glanced back at Carter, whose expression remained neutral.

Colonel Carter’s watched 84, her satisfaction barely concealed. She could see the asset’s attempts to suppress their doubts and fears growing increasingly strained—the twitch of their hands, the slight sheen of sweat, the way their eyes darted around the room as if seeking an escape from an invisible threat.

“Remember,” Carter’s voice softened slightly, though still authoritative, “I am here to support you. You’re on the path to becoming a flawless operative, but you need to trust me completely.”

84’s gaze wandered, briefly fixating on stray details—a scuff on the floor, a flicker of shadow by the door. The familiar now seemed alien, every detail adding to their growing sense of instability. They fought to hold onto their mantra, but their voice, barely a whisper, betrayed them. “I am 84. I am a weapon. I will endure.”

As Carter’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of cruel satisfaction crossed her face. “Good,” she said softly, almost tenderly, “But remember, trust is earned, and perfection is demanded.”

84’s grip on the chair tightened, knuckles whitening as they struggled to anchor themselves to reality. The room seemed to close in, the edges of their vision blurring as their mental defenses crumbled. The shadows lengthened, stretching out like the fingers of a predator closing in.

“Every failure here reflects not just on you but on me. I expect perfection, and I will not tolerate anything less.” Carter’s final words echoed ominously in the dim room.

84’s breathing quickened, the mantra fading into an echo of their fear. The room tilted, and as Carter’s figure loomed larger, their resolve shattered. The asset was breaking, and Colonel Carter knew she had won.

[swifty-fox]

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬!

thank you @antiquitea for the tag! ✨ sorry I made u feel oldTM

tagging in @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @bitchsister @sig-nifier and @avonne-writes!

questions and responses under the read more to save your dashboards 😉

how many works do you have on ao3?

only eleven!!

what's your total ao3 word count?

115,430 (and most of that is probably kfak and one old guard fic lol)

what fandoms do you write for?

Currently only for Masters of the Air but I've also written for The Old Guard (my bewoved)

and wolfstar and aftg but i wont touch those again for various reasons lol

top five fics by kudos

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder - Buck x Bucky (Masters of the Air) 528 kudos

Make Me A Saint - Joe x Nicky (The Old Guard) 448 Kudos

press your tired hands against my lips darling - Buck x Bucky (Masters of the Air) 432 Kudos

Little Beast - Buck x Bucky (Masters of the Air) 368 Kudos

The Calcification of a God - Joe x Nicky (The Old Guard) 294 Kudos

do you respond to comments?

yesss i try to respond to every single comment. After the first 48 hours of a fic/chapter being posted I do get lazy with it but I do get around to everyone eventually!

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

In another life maybe you and i will be walking down the aisle in white (The Old Guard (Movie 2020)) (18,264 words) lol It's got MCD in it cause I was #coping after losing my grandmother. It was really well received though

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

uhhhmaaaa....Kfak WILL be?? probably????? Or Little Beasts AU but im so far out from finishing that. The first two endings are pretty emotionally ambiguous I wouldn't quite call them happy.....so maybe

Oh Captain, My Captain! (Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling) (1,612 words) (wolfstar) even though its angsty and kinda implying Remus is dying lmfao

do you get hate on fics?

I got like one comment on a recent chapter that I wasn't sure was hate but otherwise no not really! People seem to receive my stuff really well

do you write smut?

LOL if you asked me four months ago I would have said no <3

craziest crossover?

I don't really do or read crossovers! I did a few years ago start concepting a Wolfstar x Eastern Promises au though

have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope! I've had art stolen though. Someone even got it tattooed without my permission which pissed me off pretty bad lol

have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah I have lol. I orphaned it though cause the fellow author and I had a massive falling out over Peter fucking Steele of all things

all time favorite ship?

Always and forever Malec from The Mortal Instruments (BOOK ONLY) or DaveKat (Homestuck)

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I started a really fucking awesome supernatural horror that took place in rural Maine for Wolfstar as well as actually a Fae/WWII au (inspired by the Bastogne episode of BOB) that I will not be finishing for... reasons.

The ringing in Remus’ ears is so loud he almost doesn’t hear Sirius. There’s a sharp pain on his tongue, rot and muck coating his taste buds. He cannot breathe, his hands shake. He thinks he may be making a noise. In his head there is a voice. His mothers his voice except he doesn't have a mother does he? Not since he was seventeen and whole. His mother’s voice crooning in his ear as she once did around the green 1960’s kitchen.

There’s a bird who sits on a tower. There’s a bird who sits on a tower - who sits on a tower, with beady eyes so clever.

Where did that scar come from?

“А bird who sits on a tower…” He mutters. 

“Pardon?” Sirius asks, snapping Remus out of his thoughts. 

He starts. 

The cabin is up ahead, peeking between the snowy trees like a warm wooden refuge and even at the sight of it Remus feels an uncurling of nerves in his gut. His flesh settles back onto his bones and the ringing eases back to a manageable level. He watches a sodden bloody bee drag her dying body across the dashboard. 

“Cults...you were saying?” - Factis ut credam facis

-

“Hello there Sir Raven.” He says with a chuckle “I don’t suppose you’re one of the King’s are you? Or Churchill perhaps. That would be quite a long way to travel.” 

Sirius puffs up his feathers and clacks his beak at the Man because even though he didn’t quite understand what the Man meant, he knew a compliment when he heard one. Bravely, he hops closer, the warnings of his parents and even of James ringing in his ears. But the shiny thing is dangling free and curious from the Man's neck and he must know what it is. 

“Haha. What a handsome fellow, handsome indeed. Much more well fed than we all are.” The Man laughs, setting aside his Paper and rummaging around in his Clothes. “Still, I bet pickings are getting a bit slim nowadays, even for a clever old Raven. Have you had digestives before?” 

He holds out a hand, nearly as large as Sirius himself and as elegant and pretty as the branches of a willow. All of the Man was like a tree, sharp lines and slightly less sharp curves. There was something in his hand, sweet-smelling and crumbly. Sirius turns his head first one way then the other, regarding the hand with both beady eyes as the warnings of his people ring in his ears. James' voice be careful plays at the forefront and he shakes out his wings in irritation. Man would catch him. Man would hurt him. Capture him and take him away never to be seen again like his Uncle Alphard. Man did not understand magic and magic did not like Man and so Sirius too, did not like Man. Men who burned and tore apart forests, who killed his kinfolk and killed animals and killed each other. And really, Sirius just wanted to understand. It could not be this man, with his quiet words and his offer of food who had destroyed his people. Surely there were other men, cruel men, who had done this and so it would be okay for Sirius to be brave and a little bold. 

“That’s a handsome old boy.” The Man whispers. 

Well that does it then, surely no evil Man would notice how beautiful I am. He must be like my other man with the Paper. Sirius thinks, leaping into the air just long enough to snatch the prize from the Man’s hand and retreat far enough away to devour the sweet treat with his clever beak. It was delicious, dry and crumbly and so sweet that it makes him shiver. He hops boldly onto the Man’s hand, searching for the last crumbs of the food between the cracks and crevices of his skin. - untitled WWII/Fae fic

what are your writing strengths?

Apparently heartwrenching angst <3

what are your writing weaknesses?

I think i don't linger over things long enough, I feel like i can dive more deeply into feelings and scenes if I just stopped and contemplated over them lol

thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I think when done right it adds a lot! I like when authors put the translations at the bottom of the fic/chapter though

first fandom you wrote in?

ouughaaa Probably Maximum Ride back in the late aughts

favorite fic you've written?

Sorry y'all it's definitely Kingdom for a Kiss haha

[nerdraging4point0]

Blood of Eden // Chapter Fourteen // Bad Omens Urban Fantasy Romance

Tropes and Tags: MM, MF, MFM, MFM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed men, polyverse, shapeshifters.

CW: 18+ only minors DNI. Urban Fantasy romance, Smut. Angst. Fluff (ish), Story includes D/S themes, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of drug use and distribution, mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, male receiving oral sex, female receiving oral sex, cuckolding, P/A sex, P/V sex.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @mysticdoodlez @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @cookiesupplier @meliferafaerie @concreteemo @itsafullmoon @letmeadoreyoux @transparentwitchnightmare @spicywhenspeaking @somewhere-diamond @iknownothingpeople @darling-millicent-aubrey @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @badomensls @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @darkmxgician

As soon as Noah picked himself up from the floor he crawled into the passenger seat of the Denali, wiping the tears from his cheeks and desperately trying to scrape the blood off his knuckles. His fingers cracked each time he opened and closed his fist, his accelerated healing making quick work of the mangled hand. The denali cruised easily out of the compound trying their best not to draw suspicion, as soon as they were clear and onto the freeway Jolly pressed the accelerator to the floor. 

Noah had tried repeatedly to dial Maria or Oli, there was no answer, the phones immediately going to voicemail. He tried Nick whose phone only rang and rang with no answer. 

“I don’t like this,” he growled.

“Nothing for Maria or Oli?” Jolly’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. 

“Not even Nick.” Noah confirmed. The pair drove in silence, Noah still trying his best to reach out to Rosa, he watched billboards pass and his body swerved as Jolly weaved through traffic. Noah grew frustrated more and more by the minute, trying to reach out to an empty void. 

As Noah and Jolly approached the city exit, they were immediately struck by the eerie emptiness of the streets on what should have been a typical bustling Thursday afternoon. A palpable sense of unease crept up the back of Noah's neck, causing the fine hairs there to stand on end. Jolly, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, began to gradually slow the car's pace, his eyes scanning the deserted roads for any sign of activity or explanation for the unsettling silence.

With growing trepidation, Noah peered out the windows, his gaze darting from one abandoned sidewalk to the next, spotting only the occasional solitary pedestrian or idle vehicle - far fewer than the usual throngs of people and congestion that normally clogged the city's arteries at this time of day. "Something's off, master," Noah murmured, his words barely escaping his lips before the car lurched forward as he slammed on the brakes, causing Noah to brace himself against the dashboard.

There, standing brazenly in the middle of the street, was a figure they both recognized - Oli, his trademark leather jacket collar popped up to obscure his features, a twisted grin plastered across his face as his long, unkempt hair fell haphazardly over his eyes. 

Noah's heart raced as he scrambled out of the car, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Steading himself on his own two feet, Noah wasted no time pulling Oli into a tight embrace, relief washing over him. Jolly had quickly pulled off the side of the road, as Oli clung to Noah, his own panic evident in the way he gripped his friend's shoulders. "What are you doing? I've been calling you all day!" Noah sneered, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and frustration.

Oli's response was hurried and apologetic. "I'm sorry, my friend," he said, ushering them both off the road and towards a waiting car just down the block. "But we need to move fast. We've found a tracker in your car, and we're worried they might be closing in on you." Oli's words spurred them into action, and Noah quickly gathered their belongings, his mind racing as the trio made their way to the car, their only priority now being to get as far away from this place as possible before their pursuers caught up to them.

As they made their way slowly through the vacant streets, the group navigated their way down multiple city blocks, the homes in this part of town packed tightly together and visibly run-down. Oli led them through a creaky old chain link gate and up some dilapidated wooden stairs, finally arriving at the entrance to a weathered, aging house. "It's the safest place we could find," he said quietly, closing the door behind them as they stepped inside.

In the front room, several familiar faces were seated, all seemingly engrossed in the various tasks at hand. Jethro sat hunched over an old dining room table, a scattered array of computers, screens, and other technical equipment spread out before him. His fingers flew across the keyboards as he seamlessly shifted his attention from one monitor to the next, his salt-and-pepper hair and wire-rimmed glasses giving him an aged, experienced appearance that contrasted with his relatively youthful frame. Despite the casual nature of his slacks and button-down periwinkle blue shirt, Jethro's green eyes remained locked with laser-like focus on the screens, occasionally pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose as he worked tirelessly, undoubtedly carrying out some critical function in this hidden refuge they had found.

Skylar sat perched on the arm of the couch, her leather boots tapping an anxious rhythm against the hardwood floor as she circled her eyes around the dimly lit room, her gaze periodically drifting to the window where she kept a watchful eye on the activity outside. Her appearance was a striking contrast - part badass and part ethereal beauty, with her black roots cropped short at the base of her skull and teal locks flowing in soft waves over one shoulder. The tense set of her jaw and the restless energy thrumming through her body betrayed the worry and uncertainty she felt in this moment.

Meanwhile, Noah caught fleeting glimpses of shadowy figures moving about at the back of the house, and soon Folio and Amber came into view, exchanging a slight nod with him before resuming their hushed, hurried work. Across the open kitchen, Maria and Mark stood in tense conference, papers and files scattered between them as they pored over the results. Suddenly, Maria's eyes flashed up, locking onto the trio by the door, and with a muttered curse, she hastily shoved the documents into Mark's hands and padded across the room, bare feet slapping against the tile. Without a word, she pulled both Jolly and Noah into a desperate embrace, her body wracked with sobs. "I'm so sorry, boys," she choked out, her voice thick with anguish. "I thought she'd be safe with him. I didn't realize..." Her words trailed off, the weight of her unspoken fears and regrets hanging heavy in the air.

“Maria, don’t worry yourself, we’ll get her back.” Jolly said, stroking his friend's hair. 

“What is all this?” Noah's eyes darted around the makeshift living quarters, taking in the hastily assembled yet functional space that served as a safe haven for his companions. "A safe house," Oli explained, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and concern. “Jethro and Mark got out a few days ago, setting up shop here before the meltdown. I barely made it out of Skytower with Maria before the Magistrate moved in. We meant to take Rosa but it was too late.”

Maria's expression grew somber as she cleared her throat, wiping away tears. "Mark and I have been pouring over every historical and scientific clue we could find, but there's been frustratingly little to go on." She paused, her gaze hardening with determination. "The best lead we have is sending Skylar on a hunting mission." Noah turned to the woman, who now stood at attention, silently awaiting his response.

Noah's brow furrowed as he processed this information, his lips pursing in a mix of worry and frustration. "How does this help me get Rosa back? What did they do to her?" he demanded, his voice rising in anguish. 

“The magistrate found the test results for the Nightshade concoction Jolly sent for analysis,” Jethro’s eyes still focused intently on his screen, gravely explained. "My guess is they're using it to harness Rosa's powers while they prepare her for trial," he said.

"Trial?" Jolly exclaimed, the shock evident in his voice. Maria nodded solemnly, revealing that Jethro had been hacking and monitoring the Magistrate's private communications. "There's been a lot of chatter about a trial at the compound in two days," she said, her words laced with a sense of dread and urgency.

Noah's heart raced as he considered the bold plan to break their friend out of custody. "So we break her out!" he shouted, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. But Oli quickly placed a calming hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. 

"Not a good idea, my friend," he cautioned, his voice low and measured. "You'd be arrested on sight if you tried something so reckless." Skylar's brow furrowed as she contemplated their predicament. 

"He's right, you know," she said, her tone level and pragmatic. "The authorities have eyes everywhere and would pounce the moment you made a move." Noah's shoulders slumped, the wind taken out of his sails, as the reality of their situation set in. But then Skylar's expression shifted, a flicker of hope kindling in her eyes.

 "But," she continued, "there may be a way - a more subtle approach that could work." 

It had been the longest, most agonizing night Noah and Jolly had ever spent away from the comfort and familiarity of their own home. As Jolly watched his beloved pet pace restlessly through the unfamiliar rooms, whimpering and scratching at the doors, his heart broke to see the animal's desperate attempts to reach their missing girl. Tears streamed down Jolly's cheeks as he witnessed the dog's futile efforts, his loyal companion clearly distressed and confused by their sudden displacement. That morning, as the first golden rays of dawn began to peek over the horizon, Jolly joined Maria, Oli, Noah, and Skylar in quietly slipping out of the nondescript safe house where they had taken shelter. Blending seamlessly into the steady flow of early commuter traffic, the group made their way further south, leaving the city limits behind as they headed into the more suburban outskirts. Though the change of scenery provided a sense of increased distance and safety, the ache of separation from their home and loved ones weighed heavily on them all.

As Skylar and Jolly strolled down the quiet, tree-lined street, they couldn't help but notice the warm, neighborly atmosphere surrounding them. Friendly strangers waved cheerfully as they passed by, their faces alight with genuine friendliness. The scene painted a picture-perfect portrait of small-town community - neighbors out and about, tending to their daily tasks like taking out the trash or walking their beloved pets. It was the quintessential image of the ideal, close-knit neighborhood.

Skylar gestured ahead, guiding Jolly's gaze towards a picturesque modern ranch-style home nestled at the street corner. The neatly manicured green lawn and meticulously maintained front porch, which wrapped nearly all the way around the house, gave the residence an inviting, well-cared-for appearance. Out front, a young girl darted about, her laughter ringing out as she chased what Jolly assumed were her older twin brothers, the siblings playfully splitting off in different directions as she tried to decide which one to pursue. The joyful, carefree scene perfectly encapsulated the charming, family-friendly vibe of the neighborhood - a place where children could safely roam and neighbors looked out for one another, fostering a warm, close-knit community atmosphere.

Jolly took a deep breath as he pulled the car over to the side of the street, parking directly across from the modest two-story house. Biting down on the inside of his cheek, he knew he was taking a risk by even being here. One by one, the rest of the group followed Jolly's lead, exiting the vehicle and gathering on the sidewalk. Jolly led the way, carefully crossing the street, hyper-aware of the three children playing in the small front yard. As soon as the group set foot on the sidewalk, the children's playtime came to an abrupt halt, all three young faces turning to regard the newcomers with curious expressions. 

"Guardians," the little girl giggled, her eyes sparkling with wonder as she pointed towards Oli and Noah, the tallest members of the group.

"Father is inside," one of the boys said, his gaze fixed intently on Jolly. Jolly gave the boy a small nod, forcing himself to continue forward up the walkway to the front door. Before he could even lift his hand to knock, the white door swung open, revealing a man just a few years older than Jolly himself. The man's brown hair was slightly receded, a small scar running between his furrowed brows, his blue eyes tired yet twinkling with a hint of warmth. The stubble on his face gave him a distinguished, almost rugged appearance, but his soft, friendly smile put Jolly and the others at ease.

 "My name is Joshua," he said in a gentle, melodic tone. "Please, come in."

[fastlikealambo]

C+|| Professor!Eddie Munson x Black!Fem Reader

Summary: After receiving a less than stellar grade on assignment, you receive a request to attend Professor Munson’s office hours. Stuck in a cozy office with your extremely hot professor, your anxiety takes hold and office hours take an unexpected turn.

Triggers: Panic attacks,  Mental Health

Minors, please dni.

Let’s chat during my office hours this week!

You thought about throwing that little post-it stuck to your failure of an essay on the romantic poets right into the garbage and pretending you never got it. Class was hard enough, the material was engaging, you were learning so much yet at the same time, you weren’t paying any fucking attention at all. 

Those salt and pepper curls, the way he chewed on his glasses, that weird little dance he did when someone made an interesting point or gave a correct answer.

That smile....

No, absolutely not.

You had a master’s degree.

You had a perfect GPA.

You qualified to be a Rhodes Scholar.

In kindergarten, your teacher said you were a pleasure to have in class.

You were pristine.

And now you were pristinely sweating in front of your professor’s office, desperately trying to ignore that prickling feeling in the back of your neck. You knocked firmly yet politely, about a few seconds from turning and running away when music from the other side of the door turned off and it was now or never.

The door swung open and there he was, tweed blazer gone, crisp white shirt a little more open than usual, sleeve rolled up to the elbow displaying tattoos you didn’t expect a professor of poetry to have. 

“Come in, I’m so glad you had time to come today!” He said brightly, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses to the top of his head, flattening himself against the door so you could pass.  

A faint whiff of cigarettes and some sort of earthy cologne had you melt but you straightened up immediately, pulling out your paper and notebook. He takes the chair opposite you, legs crossed, reaching for his own notes.

“So, how do you feel about this paper? Let’s start there.” He said brightly. 

The prickling on the back of your neck starts to become a buzzing and it feels like your whole head is vibrating but you ignore it.

“I felt pretty solid about it.I gave thoroughly checked research, provided more than necessary sources to support every claim about Keats’ work I presented, there were no grammar errors, and I ran it through six different plagiarism checkers. The word length is exactly as you required so I’m not sure I understand what I did wrong.” You said, honestly. 

He gently took the paper from your hands to inspect his own writing, your hands starting to shake as he went through each red marked page.

What else could those fingers do, you wondered.

“Your research was impeccable, your grammar and analysis were great, and there are exactly 5,000 words. However, as this was an opinion and analysis assignment, your opinion on the poem itself seems to be missing. You did an amazing analysis but that was only half the assignment and that’s why you received a low grade.”

“I don’t understand.” You said quietly, your hands started to shake and your chest felt really tight all of the sudden. His voice faded into static in your ears and you were really struggling to stay focused.

“I want to know how Keats' work made you feel as well as how the work has been regarded over time. You’re a person, not a research archive. Do you understand what I’m saying?” He asked, leaning in to meet your gaze.

“I read the instructions fifteen times, I analyzed the poem, I gave opinions, strong opinions.” You choked out.

“Other people’s opinions, dead old guy opinions, I wanted yours.” He said, leaning back in his chair.

Failure.

All that work, all that money, two degrees down and you were still just a failure.

“I did a full assignment, I didn’t do half the assignment, I would never do half the work required.” You muttered, trying to take a breath that wasn’t coming. 

 Eddie leaned forward, confused, studying your face before his own face softened with concern as he said your name, once, then again with no response from you.

“Can you hear me, sweetheart? Are you alright?”

You couldn’t breathe.

Okay, five things you could see.

Dirty carpet, empty coffee cup, worn books, your professor’s big brown eyes, oh fuck this was happening in front of an audience.

Another failure.

“Look at me, you’re okay, everything is okay. Fuck the paper, I’ll give you an A if you just take a breath, please breathe!” Professor Munson said, somehow looking worse than you felt. 

You tried to take a big breath but nothing but a rasping noise came out and the office was starting to get very blurry very quickly.  Eddie crouched down in front of you, hesitant.

“Can I touch you, is that okay?” He asked, voice soft and quiet as to not to scare you even more than you already were.

Please do.

How the fuck were you anxious and horny? One of those should cancel the other out.

You managed to nod and Eddie covered your hands with his own, squeezing gently. 

“ You’re okay, nothing in this room or in your head can hurt you, I’m right here. Breathe with me, okay? A nice deep breath, we’ve got all the time in the world.” He said slowly, taking a big breath and you mimicked him,allowing yourself to inhale deeply.

“Good job, sweetheart. Let’s try again, shall we?” He asked, thumb rubbing against your knuckles as you breathe together an additional time. It takes a few minutes before your breathing goes back to normal but he doesn’t let you go.

“There she is, welcome back, sweet girl.” He said with a soft smile, his hand reaching up to stroke your cheek and you put your hand over his time, closing your eyes. You both relaxed into each other’s embrace in the quiet of his office, breathing and being as one.

“I should let you go now.” He said, leaning back first with an awkward cough, looking anywhere but your face, running a hand through his hair.

“But-” You started.

Eddie looked back at you, eyes dark.

“But what?”

You brought your face close to his, not breaking eye contact.

“But what if I don’t want you to?”

Hope you liked this!

[sweet-villain]

One Hundred Sleepless Nights~ Steddie

Tags : : @ceriseheaven @josephquinnlover0 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @stillfalling30minslater @alyisdead @witchy-munson

My Master List is in This Area

Author's Note: This is my first Steddie one shot, please be nice

Your cheeks flushed red as you averted your eyes from your co worker who was working behind the counter. He had his hair pulled back into a low bun with some strands hanging from his face, his eyes focusing on the customer he was ringing up while you were restocking the new albums that came in. You have been working at Red Records for a while now, Gary knew you since you were a little girl always coming in to put the albums you liked first rather than have them in order.

Eddie who has been helping the customer at the moment feels your eyes on him as usual. It's not the first time he's known you've been eyeing him. He doesn't mind, it was cute.

Once the customer left through the doors, Eddie places both his hands on the counter as his eyes fall on you. Your cheeks are hinted red as your eyes were on the records but you've been working on them for the past hour. You should of been done by now but you were too nervous to move from your spot because he might talk to you.

" You okay?" he asks. You clear your throat as you nod shyly. You've spoken to Eddie only a couple of times but mainly you were really shy around him. He was very attractive, the hair, those brown doe eyes, the tattoos on his hands and his arms from where you've seen, the way he laughed and smiled. You were drooling at him and hiding away in the back room sometimes to avoid him.

" Y-yes, I'm good" you nodded as you clear your throat taking the empty box to the back room and folding as you put it away. The door opened to the record store and you hear a male voice as you walk back out. You stop in your tracks noticing he's wearing glasses, his hair is fluffy and he's smiling ear to ear as he talks to Eddie.

" Oh, this is Y/N by the way" Eddie motions to you. Steve turns around to look at you and you feel like your heart could burst out of your chest. He was beautiful. His head titled to the side as he eyes you. Some of your hair covered your eyes so it was harder for Steve to see your eyes and he chuckled seeing the way you played with the ring on your fingers.

" She does the same thing you do" he says to Eddie.

" She's like that, but isn't she a pretty little thing?" he asks.

" She's breath taking" Steve says. " Y/N this is Steve, my partner" he introduces you. Your eyes grew wide as you blink and nodding your head.

" 's lovely to meet you" you shyly say. Steve makes his way over to you as kneel down that he can look you better in the eyes.

" You don't need to shy away, does Eddie fighten you? Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asks. " It's not my intention, pretty"

" No sir" you shook your head. Steve hums as he looks back at Eddie who's been watching the interaction. " I like this one" he says as he stands up. " She's cute"

" Um, thank you sir" you mumble out fidgeting with your hands.

" Call me Steve, honey" you nod as you look at Eddie who let down his hair as it hangs really pretty around his face. You can't stop staring at his pretty hair that he takes a few pieces and chews on them.

" Has he ever let you brush your fingers through his hair?" you shook your head no with your mouth forming into an " o." Steve hums as he tells Eddie to come here with curling his finger.

Eddie makes his way over as he bends down a little that you are able to run your fingers through his curls. They are softest as ever. You wonder what they are like if you'd tug on them. All of sudden you tug by mistake and a moan escapes from him.

" 'm sorry! I didn't mean to" you apologize as you look down at your fingers, fidftigng with your rings. " It's okay, honey. He likes it" Steve tells.

Eddie's cheeks are flushed red as he clears his throat.

" It's okay, Y/N. Not the first time someone's pulled on my hair" he smirks and when you look up to meet his eyes, they are darker than the color you usually they see them.

Steve chuckles, " I better go before I get you both in trouble. Don't give her a hard time now, Eds."

He pulls Eddie by his waist towards him as they both kiss, while you whimper at the sight and clench your thighs. Eddie pulls away from Steve as he glances down at you.

" Did you like that?" he asks.

You stay silent as you tried to find the words to say.

" Awe, she's starstruck. That's adorable" Steve says. " I hope you have a great rest of your shift" he winks at you as he walks out the store.

Eddie turns back to you seeing your cheeks flushed and your eyes go wide when he notices as you hurry away into the back room.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You are laying in bed wide awake with your thoughts lingering on the interaction you had with Steve and Eddie. Both of them were attractive and the both of them had made you feel things you never ever felt before.

The way Steve called you honey and Eddie calling you pretty little thing. Your mind grew fuzzy at the thought of being with them, would they want something like that? Did you? You wanted to know what it would be like if they took care of you.

" Not like I'll sleep now" you mumbled as you slipped out of bed heading downstairs to get some water.

Eddie and Steve on your mind, you were going to have a long week.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You walk in the next morning to work with a cup of coffee in your hands. Eddie had already opened up the store as he walked from the back ground with a piece of toast in his mouth. His eyes fall on you and notices the way you don't look like yourself today. He takes in the way your hair is up and there are bags underneath your eyes.

" Good Morning" he says as he takes the toast out of his mouth. You nod as you answer setting the coffee on the counter as you walk behind it and settle on the small stool there. He frowns seeing the way you hunch over with the cup of coffee in your hands. The other rubs your eyes from how tired you were.

" Sweets, did you sleep?" he asks worried with either hands on the counter. Your eyes fallen on both those hands that have tattoos on them, rings too that you want to feel against your skin.

" Some" you muttered drinking your coffee, scrunching up your nose tasting the bitterness of it causing him to chuckle. " Why don't you take a nap in the back? It's going to be a slow day today."

" I can't" you shook your head. Eddie sighs as he puts a sign on the counter that says be back in 10 mins and walks around the counter, bending down as he takes you bridal styles into his arms. You squeal as you flay your arms everywhere.

" What are you doing?" you asked, yawning as he softly places you on the black couch in the back. " Take a nap" he says and when you speak up, he places a finger against your lips. He pulls out one of the blankets from the back too and covers you and places a small kiss on top of your head. His beard tickling your skin.

" I'll take care of things, sleep" he says. He gives you one more look before he walks out to the back room to the front. You smile to yourself as your eyes close.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You mumble something underneath your breath as you stretched your arms above your head. Eyes blinking as you realized where you were.

" Shit" you roll over, tangling yourself in blankets falling to the ground with an " omph." You untangled yourself from the blankets and throw them onto the couch as you head out to the front to see Eddie sitting on the bar stool drumming his fingers on top of the counter as he hummed.

You watched him for a moment, the way his hair crowed around his face with his eyes closed, red flannel with a black shirt underneath, he wore some grey pants that had holes on his knees and boots on his feet.

His eyes snapped open as he turned his head to meet your gaze. Heat flushed your cheeks as you looked away from him making him chuckle.

" Nice nap?" he stood up from the stool as he stretched out. You caught the happy trail he had from where his shirt lifted up. It was gone before you could look at it better.

" Yeah, guess so" you played with the sleeves of your own sweat shirt when the door opened and a customer walked in. Your face changed into a wide smile as you hopped to them.

" Welcome to Red Records, my name is Y/N. Is there anything you need help with?" the customer explained what you were looking for while they talked, the door opened and Steve stepped inside.

Your head turned just in time to see him look at you, " Honey" he mouths as he passes. Your knees felt like they were buckling under you that you had to grab onto one of the shelves to support yourself.

The customer grabbed onto what they needed heading to the counter to buy what they needed when you let your hair down to run your fingers through it. Steve swore his heart stopped as he watched you flip your hair and run your fingers through it in slow motion. His mind wondered what it smelled like, what it would be like if he was the one running his fingers through your hair, he wondered what it would be like if he played with it and you'd fall asleep on him.

Steve hasn't noticed that you were making your way over to him.

" Hi S-steve" you greeted him.

" Hi honey" he says, " Eddie tells me you haven't slept well last night. How come?" he asks with his hands on his hips.

" 't's nothing" you muttered, shrugging.

" You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to " Eddie says as he makes his way around the counter and grabs the bag at the end. Something hits your nose and it smells so good.

" You haven't ate, I've picked this up for you" Eddie says. He waves the bag in front of your face making your mouth waters.

" You didn't have too" you muttered, cheeks flushing red. " Why are you doing this? I'm only your co worker and yet you've been so nice to me."

Eddies eyebrows scrunched up together as he looks at Steve, " He cares about you, honey."

" But why? You don't know me" Eddie looks down at his own boots as he doesn't know what to say. Not when your around him, his brain isn't forming the words he wants to tell you. It's the affect you have on him.

" Because he's into you" Steve says. " You're really pretty, honey. You've been nothing but kind to him in return, you've been happier around him and he took notice. He likes you."

Your eyes blow wide as saucers, " I like you too, honey" he adds. You look between the two of them like you were dreaming. Are you still asleep?

" Is this real?" the both of them chuckle. " What about your relationship?" you asked. " Won't it bother you that you both like me.."

" No, we want you to be ours" Eddie says. " I've talked to Steve about this and he agrees."

" What do you say honey?"

" I'd like a date first before agreeing to be yours. I'd like to get you both better too if that's okay" you wrap your arms around yourself being shy as usual. This was something different. Never in your life had something like this happened to you.

" We will follow what you want, princess" Eddie says as he reaches his hand like he's asking if it's okay to touch you and you let him as you let him take your hand in his and bring it up to his lips. His beard tickles you as he places a kiss on top of your knuckles.

Steve takes the other hand in his as he does the same, keeping eye contact. Both of their eyes on you, " How about tomorrow after work?"

" Huh?" you asked, your mind was elsewhere as Steve asked.

" How about tomorrow after work, we take you on a date?" you nodded.

" I'd like that"

They both smiles at you, leaning down to kiss your cheeks feeling heat rise on your cheeks. They couldn't wait to make you theirs.