#not confident enough to tag it lower than that lol

[z-arcane]

Cool bug FOUND in garden... I think it's a Lesser Marsh Grasshopper?

[myosotisa]

Chasm - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖  summary: You're a researcher working at one of the fault lines throughout Hawkins, studying the closed and dormant gates to an alternate dimension. While you're alone on site, one of the gates wakes up again.

‖  tags: horror. i cannot stress this enough. this is unsettling and creepy and angsty with slight sexual tension. in line with the content in the show. post season 4, canon compliant. emetophobia warning. dubcon kissing. forced consumption (writing it made me gag just warning you. but im also kind of a baby so). no y/n, she/her pronouns used. flayed!eddie infects you. open ended ending. also steve is there sometimes. there's a ton of background lore that is only vaguely explained lol

‖  word count: 8.3k ‖  read on AO3 ‖  the song ‖

None of the rifts have shown any activity in over a year. Months and months of dead readings and no signals. Just waiting.

So what's a girl supposed to do when your EMF meter spikes alone on site? Sit around and wait for a crew to suit up and march their way over to the fault you were at? No fucking way. No chance.

You report in about the sudden spike in gamma radiation and tell them you're going to find the source. The project lead tells you to stay put and wait for assistance, as expected.

Your radiation gear was already halfway on. Oops, sorry boss, didn't hear you.

Handheld voltage meter in one hand, audio recorder in the other, and a pocket full of glow sticks, you push out past the plastic tarps and into the humid night air of Indiana summer.

The readings bring you west, toward the condemned trailer park and the "start" of your fault line. You crack a glow stick and drop it every few feet, marking your path. When the reading jumps up, you make a '+' sign with two at the spot before continuing forward. It was hard to say without exact measurements, but it seemed to be increasing at equal intervals. Like frozen waves on the surface of water.

"I'm approaching the Forest Hills sign," you say into the receiver, your own voice the only sound in the night air. "Current readings are…" You bring the meter up, using the light hanging from your neck to read the display. "Approaching 70 mv/m of high frequency radiation, roughly 31016 Hz. The next… 'Layer', for lack of a better term, will most likely breach Safe EMF levels, not considering the potential protection of the suit."

Lowering the meter again when it gives a beep of warning, you tuck it under your arm and crack another glow stick, leaving a '+' at the boundary to the trailer park. "I'll probably need treatment when I get back to base – as long as I grab a reading from the source and get out quickly, there won't be lasting damage. You hear that, Dr. Pierce?" You say through an over-confident huff, readjusting your arms to keep moving forward. "I'm well aware of the risks and take responsibility for my own actions."

The park itself looks like a bad dream at night – trailers abandoned hastily with doors still hung open and belongings scattered along the ground. Between the sudden fault opening and the bureau rushing in, the existing residents had been given very little time and grace to move into temporary housing across town. And it looked every bit like an entire community of people had just up and disappeared.

The suit you were in didn’t exactly help coordination, so you moved slowly and carefully over and around discarded objects along the dirt. Clothing, kitchen utensils, a quilt, a stack of newspapers, a child's toy. All left untouched for over a year.

Clearing the corner of one of the empty trailers, you catch sight of something strange.

“The fault itself has looked normal up to this point, no activity. But I can see the source now. It’s… It appears to be glowing red, fading in and out in a constant cycle.” Approaching even slower than before, you watch intently as the glow grows and then retreats again. Like waves on the shore.

The meter gives another shrill alarm – making you jump nearly out of your skin as you swat at it with the recorder. “Jesus Christ!” It quiets with a sinking pitch in your hand. 

Before checking the reading, you quickly make another ‘+’ with glow sticks, digging them into the dirt a bit in an attempt to keep them from moving. Still down on one knee, you bring the meter up to your flashlight again.

“The meter is now reading 110 mv/m, same frequency. I’m roughly… 12 feet out from the source now. There’s a, uh, humming sound. Not sure if the recording is picking it up. And feeling pressure on my eardrums,” you explain into the device, eyes locked on the glow ahead. “I’ll continue to approach – see if I can get a closer reading. If it jumps above 150, I’ll fall back.”

Pushing to your feet again with a huff, you readjust your full load and press forward slowly. The closer you get to the source, you can see that the fault rapidly grows in size. The space between the edges looks large enough to fit a car as it rounds out at the end – a red pond in the ground.

“I can see the source clearer now. The glow is coming from within – there’s a…" You take a few steps closer, squinting to get a better look. "It appears to be an opaque membrane covering the space between. The glow is coming from behind it. Still cycling at an even rate, no change.”

The meter in your hand gives its shrillest warning yet, scaring you badly enough that it goes flying out of your hand; it hits the ground and flips closer to the edge. “Shit, fuck!”

You shuffle forward and drop down onto your shaky knees, grabbing for the meter as it continues to let out that grating alarm into the night air. Smacking it once more, the sound cuts off abruptly, giving you a chance to breathe.

Bringing it up to your flashlight, your eyes go wide as you lift the recorder again with your other trembling hand. “I’m nearly at the edge now, only a foot or so away  – EMF reading 187 mv/m. Rapid increase from the last point.”

Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, your head snapping toward it.

“There’s… What the fuck?" You pause, tempted to rub your eyes to make sure you're really seeing what you're seeing.

"There’s movement below the membrane. It… It’s just a shadow, I can’t tell what it is, but the movement is rapid and the… The humming is getting louder.” Your heart is pounding now, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin beneath the suit. 

“Going to retreat back to base,” you say, mostly attempting to reassure yourself as you slowly back away from the edge. “Final reading was 189 mv/m at 31016 Hz.”

There’s a crackle of static right before a thumb presses the pause button roughly, silencing the recorder in the center of the table.

“Is that all?” General Richard Highland asks, sounding impatient as he leans back in his conference chair. “That doesn’t tell us anything about what happened to her.”

“No, sir, there’s more.” Private Steve Harrington insists, inclining his head toward the dirty recorder he had delivered. He’s standing by the edge of the table at attention, hands clasped in front of him.  “The recording keeps going.”

Dr. Pierce leans forward from his seat, giving the General a stiff look as he presses the play button again.

There’s a few more moments of static before the woman’s voice fades back in, layered beneath the hum of attempted interference.

“I’m definitely gonna need that rad treatment, Dr. Pierce. My badge is that warning color, even beneath the suit,” she continues with a shaky laugh, the sound of plastic shuffling behind it. “Hopefully I don’t lose my hair or something, but that’s… What?” 

The table of scientists and military personnel sits in tense silence as her voice cuts out again. Half of them are on the edge of their seats, the others showing off a measured calm or disinterest. The general looks particularly annoyed and impatient, while Dr. Pierce looks almost like he wants to throw up.

“There’s… Something’s happening – I don’t–” 

An abrasive crackle echoes out into the room, loud enough to send nearly everyone into a wince, before the recording cuts back in with the sound of screaming. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SHIT – I’ve gotta get–" A burst of interference sounds, followed by a metallic grating, like a ship groaning beneath the weight of the ocean.

Her panicked voice comes through, sounding further away than before. "FUCK! It – It’s got my ankle. Let go, you fucking piece of –! SHI–”

The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.

No one moves for a few moments. Not until Private Harrington steps up to silence the recorder. “We found this recording, a lab issue EMF meter, and a broken flashlight at the edge of the fault." He explains, producing the other two items from the pack resting at his feet. "It was dormant when we got there – solid again.”

“So it just…” One of the other scientists starts, looking at Dr. Pierce uneasily.

“Dragged her through and went back to sleep.” Dr. Pierce confirms solemnly, his gaze locked on the dirty recorder.

“It’s never done this before?” A 2nd scientist, new to the project, asks. The others shake their heads. “So what do we do?”

All eyes turn to Dr. Pierce, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“We wait for it to wake up again.”

Wake up.

Come on, little lamb.

Wake up now.

Looks so peaceful.

But you’ve got to wake up.

…

WAKE UP.

There’s something wet on your face.

Feeling is slowly returning to your body, your eyes closed and too heavy to open. But there’s something dripping on your cheek – droplets running down toward your mouth. Sticking to your dry lips for a moment or two before falling off. You’re on the ground on your stomach, your cheek squished against something that feels like mud.

Your brain has yet to kick on fully as it tries to regain consciousness through a pounding ache, resonating with the throb of your left leg. It feels like you’re still wearing the rad suit, but the head piece is gone and it might be ripped in places – mud seeping in to touch your skin.

It’s almost like you’re sinking.

Eyelids fluttering open and you’re faced with a desaturated swamp. Like someone came through and sucked half the color out of it.

Lifting one arm is difficult, suctioned into the mud you’re laying in. Once you’ve freed it enough, you’re able to push off the sticky, wet sludge beneath you enough to roll over onto your back.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

You sit up with a start, your abdomen screaming in protest as your brain swims. Blinking through the blur in your eyes, you struggle to see anything at all in the dark – only momentarily granted sight by the flashes of red lightning overhead.

“Who’s there?” You call out into the dark, an attempt to sound brave, but your voice trembles as your eyes rapidly flit back and forth.

“Over here.”

The lightning flashes once more as you whip your head toward the voice – showing the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. From what little you see, he’s tall and slender, head tilted to the side like he’s curious. There’s no chance you can see his face or anything else about him.

Until he’s in your face, crouched down right beside you – crossing the space and appearing in the span of a blink. It gives you a start, attempting to back up but getting caught up in the mud still suctioned to your lower half.

Your fear seems to bring a small smile to his face, plump lips tilting up at the corner. He looks so familiar… Long curly hair draped wetly over his shoulders, the sparse bangs across his forehead, and the soft turn of his nose. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in again slightly, squinting your eyes a bit more in the dark to see him better.

“I know you…” You insist softly, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise. “How do I know you?”

“No clue, because I’ve never met you in my life.” He replies, lips parting in a grin. “And I’m good with faces – ‘specially pretty ones.”

His response catches you off guard as your brain continues reeling and struggling to intake information, which is normally your forte. There’s a million questions on the tip of your tongue and you have no idea where to start.

“You’ll probably need to lose the suit if you want to get out of that shit,” he continues when you don’t respond, motioning to your stationary legs with a wave of his hand. And he’s probably right, with the way the mud beneath you is stuck tight to the shiny plastic. Your best hope is to try to use the suit as a stepping off point to get to stable ground.

“Where should I step once I pull out?” You ask, hoping he’ll understand your goal.

A blink and he’s gone again – another flash of red light placing his silhouette off to your left. “Think you can make it to here?” He responds, voice raised slightly and sounding like he’s teasing you or challenging you. It makes your competitive side flare up on instinct – a frustrated huff leaving your nose as you plan your escape.

Opening the front of the suit, you slip both arms out and let the upper half fall flat behind you. Pulling out both of your legs next, your butt sinks deeper into the ground, nearly sending you off balance as you quickly shift your weight forward onto your knees, using the suit as a stepping stone. It starts to sink, mud coming up over the edge and inching toward your knees, so you have to move fast.

Pushing to your feet makes it sink faster, wet sludge touching the side of your ankle just as you push off in a jump toward where the man was standing.

You land on the ankle that had been grasped by the tentacle, not realizing the throbbing meant it’d been twisted. It makes you cry out in pain and fall forward, directly into the man’s chest.

“Woah there!” He says in surprise, grasping onto your elbows to keep you sort of upright. Between the aching pain and the tears pressing at your eyes, you just barely manage to notice how cold and clammy he is – especially where his hands grip your bare biceps.

Rocketing back, you press your weight onto your good leg and put some distance between the two of you again, your dirty arms crossing over your tank top and smearing it with mud. “Sorry, my, uh, ankle…” You offer awkwardly, still not even sure who you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about it, angel. You good?”

He actually sounds like he cares. Like he’s concerned for you. Who is he? 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist stubbornly, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat. Free from your precarious situation, at least partially, you struggle to figure out what to address first. “How are you doing that? Like… Teleporting? Or are you just moving really fast?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “What–,” he disappears in a blink and then you feel a burst of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end, “this?”

You lurch forward before turning around to level him a glare. “Yes, that – don’t do that.”

His hands tuck into the front pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing as he shrugs, looking quite pleased with himself. “Sorry, angel, didn’t mean to spook you.”

Then silence falls, both of you eyeing each other – you suspiciously and him curiously. The extended pause makes you think you aren’t going to be told how anytime soon.

A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of the trees in the surrounding swampland and sending a shiver down your spine. Suit lost, you’re down to a tank top, jeans, and a pair of no slip shoes (which were required for people working in the field for some reason). You were dressed for the humid interior of the field site tent in summer and it appears that you have landed yourself in a place where that is not enough.

Taking advantage of the silence, you try to remember everything you can about your studies into the ‘gates’ from when they were open. Very little was known beside second hand accounts and old data – some of which may not even be accurate anymore given the nature of the fault lines. If there was anywhere to start, it would be trying to find the gate you’d been dragged through.

With any luck, you could go right back to your dimension.

But that didn’t account for him. The pale, wet, unsettling-yet-somehow-charming guy that was still staring right at you.

“How long have you been here? Do you know?” You question cautiously, not wanting to upset him in any way.

“That depends, what year is it?”

Your heart drops into your stomach, completely at odds with the continued grin on his face. It looks almost manic now – like every time he sets you off balance brings him great joy. Deciding you’d actually rather not know how long he’s been in here, you move on.

“Have you been alone this whole time? Or are there other people here?”

His grin spreads, like he’s in on a joke you’re not aware of. “I haven’t been alone, no.”

This piques your curiosity again, adjusting your weight on your good leg. “Do you have a community here? How many of you are there?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He suggests, taking a step or two away from you, his hands still tucked into his pockets.

The idea is tempting, if only to learn more about what is going on here, but there’s something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you should be remembering. Something you’re missing. Plus, for all you know, this man does not have your best interests at heart.

“I should probably try to find the gate that brought me here,” you say, slightly regretfully. “See if I can cross back over.”

“Oh, right,” he responds, tapping his forehead with his palm like it should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”

This surprises you again, slight concern causing you to stand up straighter. “You can?”

“Sure thing, the closest one isn’t far,” he motions behind him with a tilt of his chin, taking another step back. “Come on.”

So you follow the strange man into the dark, limping after him on your twisted ankle. The mud starts to dry on your skin, hair, and clothing – crusting over and hardening in places. You pick at pieces as you walk, letting the chunks and flakes fall to the ground behind you. From what little you can see, there are vines everywhere along the ground, weaving between tree trunks and layering over each other in place. The man seems to step over them – and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or a coincidence – but you make a habit of not touching the vines just in case.

It’s unsettlingly quiet here. Every once in a while you’ll hear what sounds like an animal – a howl, a chittering, the thump of feet on the earth. But they are few and far between, leaving mostly just the rush of wind through the trees and a sort of muffled silence, pressure on your ears.

Your paranoia kicks up as the quiet continues, suspiciously eyeing the back of your escort as he leads you forward. For all you knew, he wasn’t leading you anywhere near the gate. You have no reason to trust him beyond the fact that he helped you get out of the sludge you woke up in. He was in this dimension after all, clearly familiar with it. That had to be a red flag if anything, given what little you actually knew about it.

So much was classified beyond your reach – the bureau was very specific with what you were allowed to read and know and what you weren’t. Given the dormant nature of the fault lines, it hadn’t been necessary for you to learn too much about the dimension on the other side. Most of what you studied and knew was about the gates themselves.

Even with the bureau being as paranoid and obsessive as it was – a lowly field researcher getting dragged to the other side and needing to survive hadn’t seemed to be on their radar.

The pessimistic part of you not-so-helpfully supplies that was probably just because they weren't very interested in your survival at all. They’d probably prefer it if you died here. If anything, your exposure to the other side made you more of a liability.

Maybe one they could experiment on, if you got lucky and survived.

This train of thinking isn’t helping anything. You could worry about what your life would become if you made it out.

Walking up to the lifeless and solid gate turns that into a very tentative if.

“Looks like the door’s shut tight,” Eddie offers vaguely, rocking back and forth on his heels as you circle the hole in the ground, like seeing a new angle will change something about it.

The opening looks largely the same as the other side, in the center of the abandoned trailer park with the forest surrounding. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as the breeze hits harder in the open field, no longer buffered by trees on all sides. On the bright side, it is slightly better lit here and you can see your companion a bit clearer now.

“Do you know how these things work? Like how and why it opens and shuts?” You ask desperately, looking at him from the other side of the crevice.

The corner of his mouth tilts up minutely, his shoulders shrugging. “Yes and no.”

The scowl returns to your face, frustration mounting as another shiver of cold racks your body. “Are you intentionally being unhelpful? Or are you just an idiot?”

His lips part in a surprised ‘o’, his eyebrows raising like he’s impressed. “That hurts, angel. I’m no idiot, and I think I’ve been plenty helpful. After all… I could’ve just left you to drown out there. Or maybe led you into a trap. Or left you for the dogs.” He taunts, returning to a toothy grin. The question of if he has your well being in mind gets more and more clear with a resounding no.

A fearful jolt runs down your spine as you stare him down, trying not to let your fear show. Grappling tightly to your anger, you taunt back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you?”

A blink and he’s gone.

Your entire body goes on alert, tensing for attack as your heart starts to pound against your ribs. Eyes searching the immediate area in front of you come up empty. He’s either behind you or far enough you can’t see him in the low light. You never got an answer as to whether he’s moving quickly or teleporting or exactly how far he can get in the time you blinked.

He’s either long gone or… Trying to surprise you.

As soon as you have the thought, the hair on the back of your neck stands up – like some kind of unconscious sense of danger.

You turn in a quick 180 and he’s right there. Only a foot away from you with a sadistic sort of smile on his face. Your breath catches in your chest as it feels like a fist grabs tightly to your heart, suddenly much more terrified of the man in front of you.

That appears to be the way he prefers it.

“I think we can help each other.”

You blink at him, muscles pulled taut and ready to bolt as you try to figure out what the fuck he’s doing and what the fuck he wants. “What?” You question, your voice coming out a bit breathy and scared.

“I said, I think we can help each other,” he repeats calmly. “You help me, and I can help you get back home.”

“Why– What– H–how could I possibly help you?” You sputter, trying not to sound as terrified and confused as you feel.

His grin turns cheeky again, slightly less unsettling than it was a moment ago. “It won’t take much, angel, scout’s honor.” He says as he lays a hand over his chest. “You help me, then you’re free to crawl right back over to the other side and continue your life.”

Disbelief and uncertainty nags at you as you fidget in your spot, wanting desperately to put some more distance between the two of you but nervous to offend him. “So you can open the gate? You just want something in return?”

He shakes his head emphatically, appearing to be genuine in his denial. “I can’t but I know who can. They opened it before you were brought over.”

“And they would open it again? Just because you asked?” You question suspiciously, studying his facial expression for a sign that he’s pulling your leg again.

“Let’s just say that me and them have similar goals and leave it at that.”

There are 100 more questions on the tip of your tongue, but with the potential of getting back to your own dimension on the table, you’re reluctant to press too hard. He seems to recognize the battle you’re fighting with yourself as he laughs to himself. “You know what they say about curiosity, angel.”

An annoyed exhale punches out of your nose. “And I assume in this case that I’m the cat.”

“Bingo!” He says happily, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger. “So what do you say?”

There is so much you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. So much more info you need. But beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.

“What would I need to do?”

His smile goes sharp again. “So glad you asked. I’d just need a kiss.”

A beat of silence. Then your expression drops in disbelief and disappointment. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Dead serious,” he insists, laying his hand on his chest again as he regards you intently. “And it’s gotta be real – gotta kiss me like you mean it. None of those little pecks you give on the cheek.”

A strange swirl of intrigue and revulsion mixes together in your gut as you continue waiting for the punchline. The ‘just kidding, your face was priceless’. But it doesn’t come.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? Been so lonely out here that you have to twist the arm of a desperate girl just to get some–”

“Hey.” He interrupts, his tone intense and cold. It shuts you up immediately, though you can’t say why. “Don’t be mean, angel. This isn’t just me trying to take advantage of you. It has a real purpose.”

The dubious look you give him makes him crack another small smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth.”

“And am I allowed to know what this purpose is?”

He shakes his head again, displacing the curls draped over his shoulders that still appear to have not dried at all. “I’ll tell you when it’s done, how about that?” He offers, using your curiosity against you to try to sweeten the deal.

Really, it’s a no brainer. Sure, he’s a strange person that lives in an alternate dimension that has some strange abilities. Sure, you know next to nothing about him despite that itch in the back of your head telling you that you know him somehow. And sure, this could be a huge mistake. But having to kiss this admittedly-attractive dude just to get out of this nightmare dimension and get back home? The choice is simple.

Which only makes you more certain there’s a catch you aren’t seeing.

“Fine. If you swear I’ll be able to go home, then I’ll do it.”

His expression brightens excitedly, a sort of childlike joy appearing on his face. It’s different from any of the expressions you’ve seen on him so far – like genuine surprise. “You will?”

“Yeah, sure.” You reply, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Not like I have a lot of other options here.”

His excitement fades slightly, though he still looks pleased with the outcome. “Glad you made the right decision.”

An unsettling silence falls as the two of you study each other once more, now much closer than the last time. Fear and anticipation builds steadily as you find yourself glancing down at his lips – realizing you’re about to know what they feel like on your own.

“Do we, uh,” you pause to clear your throat as you awkwardly break the silence. “Do we do it now? Or… What?”

He takes a step closer, entering your personal space. His voice is lower, stickier, and richer when he responds. “Do you wanna do it now, angel?”

You suddenly feel like a fly stuck in a honey trap – eyes widening as you struggle between wanting to further close the distance and to run away from him. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose?” Though you meant it to be nonchalant, it comes out as a nervous question.

The uncertainty in your voice only seems to make the man crack another amused smile. “I suppose so,” he replies softly, gently teasing you as he gets even just a little bit closer. You can feel your heart pounding in your neck, constantly flipping back and forth between fear, interest, nerves, and embarrassment. Looking at you through slightly lowered eyelids, he leans in toward you. Close enough you can feel the exhale of his breath on your face.

“Kiss me like you mean it, angel.” He reminds you quietly, the tip of his nose nudging against yours as your eyelids flutter closed instinctively. “Don’t forget.”

Then his lips are pressing to yours. You make a small noise of surprise, both in that you weren’t sure if he was actually going to do it and because he’s so cold. But his lips are plush and soft as he places your lower lip between his own. As promised, you kiss him back, trying not to think about how strange it feels that he’s cold and the situation you’re in – focusing on the gentle pressure of him as he steps even closer and brings his hand up to cradle your jaw.

It’s gentle and sweet as you find yourself starting to forget the reality of it all. Your hands find the edges of his leather jacket, tugging him closer as he hums happily. His other hand finds your waist – cold through the thin fabric of your tank top.

Teeth nip lightly at your lower lip and you make another small noise of surprise, a flash of heat through your chest at the pleasant feeling. It distracts you further – not even questioning the adventurous flick of his tongue against your mouth. You part your lips on instinct; his hand flexing happily against your jaw as he tests the waters to run his tongue along yours.

You return the gesture, encouraging the touch as you breathe heavily through your nose. You’re running low on air and will need to part to breathe soon. You’re surprised to find that you aren’t really sure that you want to stop to do so.

He seems to recognize the impending need too; his lips pressing against yours more insistently, like he’s getting what he can before it ends. His tongue ventures past your lips one more time, pressing further than he had before. Is… Is his tongue longer than normal?

In the same moment that he pulls away from you, the hand on your jaw claps over your mouth to keep it shut. And there’s something in your mouth.

There’s something moving in your mouth.

You make a high pitched noise of panic as your eyes double in size, looking at him in terror while he holds you tightly to his front and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth. “Ah, ah, angel. You gotta swallow it.” He coos, his palm clammy and cold against your slick lips.

You shake your head as well as you can with his grip, making noises of protest as you struggle to keep the smooth, wiggling object from sliding down your throat. Your hands grab at his wrist and forearm, trying to pull him off, but his grip is too strong. Begging him with your eyes, sharp and stuttered breaths coming out of your nose as you hyperventilate, he just gives you a sad smile. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Just gotta swallow and it’ll be over – don’t make me plug your nose.”

Painful tears poke out of your eyes and start to descend down your cheeks, nails digging into his skin to try and get him off. It seems not to affect him at all, his other hand giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. This is it – you won’t have to do anything else. Come on, angel. You can do it. Just swallow for me.”

His words of encouragement make your head spin in confusion, panic mounting as the outcome seems inevitable. More tears pour down your cheeks as you choke on a sob, inadvertently allowing the object to slide down your throat. 

“There we go,” he sighs in relief, grip on your face loosening, “Good girl.”

Somehow he knew that you’d swallowed it because he releases you right as you start to cough roughly, stumbling away from him and bending forward. You can still feel the strange coating from the creature on your tongue and down your esophagus – thick and wrong as you cough and gag.

Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!

“What was– How do I– I’ve gotta–” You stammer, stumbling over your words as you tremble wildly and gag, your body responding to your panic by wanting to reject the new contents of your stomach.

He appears right beside you again, gripping both of your wrists with his hands as he forces you upright. “Don’t throw it up.” His voice is a command, his expression intense. “If you throw it up, I’ll have to force feed you another one. And trust me, it’s way less fun the 2nd time.”

Tears continue to pour from your eyes as you rapidly shake your head. “What was– What is– Why are you doing this? What was that thing?”

“Calm down, angel, please calm down,” he begs, starting to look distressed himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear, it’s gonna be fine. You’re a part of something bigger now. It’s all going to be okay.”

You try to pull out of his grip on your wrists, alternating between yanking back and rushing forward to push him away. “What the fuck does that mean?! What have you done to me?!” You shout through your tears, white hot panic spreading through your body. “It’s not too late – I can still, I can still throw it up, I can…”

He drags you in, wrapping you up in a tight bear hug with your arms trapped between the two of you. He shushes you, standing steady against your weakening struggling against him. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright, angel. It’s okay. You’re gonna get to go home, okay? We’re gonna get to go home.”

“Sir, we’ve got activity.”

Dr. Pierce pushes out of his desk chair fast enough to make his head spin – lack of sleep and too much coffee weakening him beyond measure. He’s barely left the main building since you went missing.

Since you were dragged through.

There have been constant patrols of the fault line you disappeared into, hoping for any sign of it waking up again. It was on his order and against the wishes of General Highland. She’s a level 1 researcher. She knew the risks. It’s not worth the cost.

But you didn’t know the risks, not really. Pierce knows he didn’t do enough to prepare you, to warn you. He didn’t do enough to protect you.

This is his fault.

He’s not the only one buzzing with anticipation as he exits his darkened office; several other scientists and field agents are reacting to the news of activity with a rush. Not everyone will be allowed to go to the site, as it would be a madhouse, but several live cameras and other surveillance equipment have been set up in the area. At least a quarter of the bureau across the country will be intently watching whatever happens next.

Pierce says nothing as he makes his way for the garage and the people he passes know better than to approach him now. He can still feel their eyes – judgemental, curious, concerned. He’s felt their eyes for days.

There are several SUVs already prepared by the time he arrives, most already full of people who were approved to be on site in the case of reactivation. He recognizes the soldier standing by waiting for him as Private Steve Harrington, the same man who brought in the recorder originally. He’s one of the few people at the bureau with prior knowledge of the other dimension despite his low rank.

“Sir,” he greets with a respectful head dip, opening the backdoor of the SUV for Pierce as he approaches. Pierce returns the gesture before climbing into the backseat, sliding across the bench to the opposite side. Steve gets in after him, his bulky gear forcing him to sit far forward on the bucket seat as he slams the door closed behind him.

It only takes another minute or so before the caravan lurches and begins to move, following after the identical black SUV in front of it.

The walkie-talkie on Steve’s shoulder kicks to life quietly, a short and concise signal coming through that Pierce doesn’t understand. The exhausted scientist looks over curiously as Steve murmurs an, “Affirmative,” into the device before clicking it off.

“Any news from the fault?”

Steve glances over, surprised to be addressed, before he turns back to look out the front windshield. “Nothing yet, sir.”

Pierce keeps an eye on the soldier as they travel – watching with intrigue as the man continuously searches the vehicle’s surroundings, like he’s expecting an attack.

“You seem on edge, Steve.” He straightens in response, looking even more uncomfortable at being referred to by his first name. “Is it because the gate is active?”

A muscle in his jaw rolling with tension, Steve keeps his gaze firmly forward as he responds. “It doesn’t supply a good feeling, that’s for sure.”

“And yet you still volunteered for the theoretical strike team to go through?” Pierce wonders aloud, phrasing it like a question.

There’s a tense moment of silence before the private answers. “At least I already know what to expect on the other side.”

The two don’t interact again for the reminder of the drive.

The SUVs all pull into the vacant field beside the field tent in a line, the leader of the patrol team coming out to meet the first vehicle. Pierce watches General Highland step out of it and start to converse with the uniformed woman. By the time he makes it way over, he seems to be catching the tail end of the conversation.

“We have each unit spread out in even intervals along the fault; so far there has been no change since it first activated.”

“And they all have their protective equipment on, I presume?” Dr. Pierce cuts in, surprising the patrol leader and earning an annoyed look from General Highland.

“Yes sir,” she responds with a head nod. “I was just telling the general that they’re all outfitted with gear to protect them from the worst of the radiation, but it would still do good to regularly swap out the unit in the center, where the worst of it is.”

Pierce agrees with a stiff nod, not waiting to hear the general disagree before he turns to look back. As he expected, Private Harrington trailed him over, waiting a respectful distance away as to not eavesdrop. “Harrington.”

Steve turns at the call, jogging over to Pierce. “Sir.”

“Suit up. You’re coming with me to the source.”

“Yes sir.”

The pair of them push into the field tent, currently staffed with 15 more people than usual. There are researchers and scientists bent over displays and documenting readings, soldiers standing by with weapons, field agents watching over the researchers shoulders. Pierce walks past all of them, parting the way as he does, and starts to strip off his lab coat while pulling a radiation suit off the rack. Steve follows suit, removing a majority of his gear to reequip on top of the plastic suit.

The buzz of excited chatter is nearly grating on Pierce’s ears as he goes through the annoying process of putting on the PPE. But he misses it when it suddenly cuts off, directly after one of the researchers announces, “We’ve got a spike in activity!”

Pierce looks over at Steve, who is still clipping things to his belt again. “We’ve gotta move.”

“Yes sir,” Steve repeats once more, gathering the bare necessities in his arms to try to equip as they move. The pair of them push out the other side of the tent and set into a jog towards what used to be Forest Hills Trailer Park.

They pass a few pairs of outfitted people as they move – soldiers patrolling and scientists maintaining the monitoring equipment placed along the fault. None of them interact as the pair jogs past, heading for the end of the fault line. They can see a small group ahead – presumably gathered closer to where the spike in activity happened.

“Make some room!” Steve barks out as they approach, the gathered group moving further away from the fault line in response. Some look back to see who is coming while others keep their eyes locked on the glowing source beyond.

“Keep at least 10 feet back from the fault at all times,” Pierce orders the group as they pass. “Stay in pairs, don’t go off on your own. We have very little idea what we’re dealing with here, but we have reason to believe there are things that will try to drag you through the gate. If something comes out, fall back and call out. Don’t let your partner get grabbed.”

There is some murmuring in response, but no one openly disregards the order, starting to pair off as a few people move further back along the fault line. Pierce approaches a pair hunched over a meter near the source, keeping his eyes on the glowing red below. “What are we looking at?”

“It’s fluctuating slightly; was 116 mv/m at 31016 Hz at peak.” The researcher responds, keeping a close eye on the EMF before them. “Nothing close to the reported 189 mv/m. We might not be looking at full activation. Or maybe it’s building up, it’s hard to say.”

“Wait,” Steve cuts in, holding a hand out for the researcher to pause. “Do you hear that?”

They all fall silent, listening closely.

Then Pierce hears it – the hum from the recording. The one you were talking about hearing.

The scientist gives him a nod of agreement before looking back to the researcher. “Any sign of movement from the other side?”

“Not that we can tell from here,” the field agent answers for them. “We’ve been following the guidelines to stay back so it’s hard to catch anything from here.”

“Radio? Portable EMF?” Dr. Pierce asks, and the field agent presents both. He takes them and then looks back at Steve. “We’re moving up.”

Even behind the protection of the face shield, Pierce can see the tension in his expression. Regardless, the private still answers with a confident, “Yes sir.”

Keeping the meter within eyesight, the two push ahead, closer to the large opening at the source. Pierce watches it tick up with each step closer, crossing the 150 mark as they get within 5 feet of the edge. Looking out across the opening, the glowing membrane pulses and hums with energy, louder and louder as they approach.

There’s very little movement on the other side, but every once in a while Pierce catches a glimpse of a dark shadow moving beyond.

“Never gets any less unsettling to look at,” Steve murmurs beside him, shifting his weight between his feet as he keeps his eyes locked on the unbroken membrane.

“Dr. Pierce, we’ve got another spike!” The researcher calls from behind, voice sounding a bit concerned. “We’re edging 170 now.”

The humming increases steadily along with a slight vibration in the ground beneath their feet. Steve steps up beside Pierce, a hand out like he’s ready to drag him back from the edge, as Pierce stares into the membrane intensely.

Come on. Come on. Come back through. Just be alive. Come on. Please be alive.

A more defined shadow moves along the edge closest to the trailer and doesn’t pull back. “We’ve got movement!” Steve calls back, alerting the nearby units as Pierce’s hand flies out to hush him. They both watch with a certain level of horrified fascination as the shadow grows defined enough to make that section of the membrane appear black before it begins to tear.

A bare hand extends out of the membrane, blindly grasping for the nearby edge. Steve twitches forward, like he wants to go and help them, but Pierce holds him back wordlessly, leaving them both standing perfectly still as another hand appears and grabs onto the edge.

The person uses the grip on the edge to pull themselves through – a woman in a filthy tank top and jeans struggling to pull herself onto the flat ground. As soon as she is through, she quickly turns around on her knees and reaches back through the membrane.

You’re… You’re actually alive.

Several soldiers approach slowly with their rifles out, aiming at you as you take hold of someone else’s hand and start to pull them through. A pale man with long, messy hair appears from the other side, holding on tightly to you as you help him reorient to the change in perspective. “No way…” Steve whispers, standing frozen as he watches them start to sit up and look around.

“Dr. Pierce!” You call happily once you spot him, waving at him like you’re excited to see him. There’s a huge smile on your face, a stark contrast to your utterly disheveled appearance. “I made it! I’m back!”

The soldiers continue to keep their weapons trained on the newcomers, watching for some sign of aggression. You slowly get to your feet, offering your hand to your companion and helping him up too. Steve takes a few mindless steps towards them, Dr. Pierce no longer stopping him. “Eddie?” He calls uncertainly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Eddie, is that you?”

The man’s head perks up, looking in Steve’s direction. “Harrington?” He replies, sounding just as uncertain and confused. “Is that you in there?”

“Eddie, as in Eddie Munson?” Dr. Pierce asks Steve, still unmoving as he stares at you, seemingly unharmed.

“Yeah…” Steve breathes out, still looking stunned. “And he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day.”

You and Eddie start to walk over when a soldier barks at you to stay back, both of you nervously putting your hands up as you look between the armed soldiers, Steve, and Pierce.

“It’s me, Dr. Pierce. It’s really me.” You insist, looking at him pleadingly. “And this is Eddie, he helped me find my way back. He saved me.” You add, motioning to the man beside you. The two of you are close together; you stand slightly in front of Eddie, like you’re protecting him. Eddie just offers a sheepish smile and a shrug, like it was no big deal.

“Sir? What do we do?” One of the soldiers asks, glancing in Dr. Pierce’s direction.

The two of you look exhausted, dirty, hungry, but… Harmless. No worse for wear despite the time spent on the other side.

“Bring them in.” Pierce orders. “No excessive force. They’ve been through a lot.”

The soldiers nod, lowering their weapons and urging you both to come forward. You look particularly relieved, while Eddie appears mostly unphased by all of it.

“Thank god, I need a shower so badly.” You announce with a happy laugh, walking toward them as you shake your head and make a disgusted face. “No one smell me, I’m begging you.”

If anyone finds your behavior unsettling or strange, they don’t say so. Everyone mostly looks relieved it didn’t turn into some kind of fight. While there is something off about how you’re acting, Dr. Pierce can’t find it in himself to feel anything besides relief at your return.

Steve stands motionless and tense as Eddie approaches, looking every bit like he’s seen a ghost. There is no excitement, no relief, no… Trust. Like this is all a bad dream and he just wants to wake up.

Just before you and Eddie pass the two of them, you flash another excited smile. “And not a moment too soon – I’m so thirsty.” You look over at Eddie, who nods in agreement, before you continue walking toward the field tent in the distance, flanked on either side by armed soldiers.

Eddie stops by Steve, giving him a tilted smile. “Hey Harrington, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” Steve replies, his tone apprehensive and flat. If Eddie catches on, he doesn’t show it, just continuing to show that same smile – like he knows something you don’t.

“What can I say?” He offers with a shrug and a wink before he continues to trail after you and toward the growing crowd beyond. “It’s good to be back.”

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thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Mi estrella (Valentino x reader)

synopsis: Valentino and you have a fight. Nothing unusual about that. Only this time the resolution is a bit different and definitely more up his alley.

warnings: my 9 year unpracticed spanish lol, Valentino being a teasing son of a b should be a warning on his own, smut, p in v sex, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, dumbification (if you squint), afab reader

word count: 2.2k

taglist:@velvette-creations

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to my beautiful tumblr friends for encouraging me to write this! This is for y´all. And also thank you @zaldritzosrose for helping me by bouncing ideas. Love you guys!💜

Dividers by @saradika

Mi estrella = my star

Mi amor = my love

Tesoro = (my) treasure

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Val!” You scream, flipping him off as you storm out of the studio.

The large doors fall closed behind you and you are immediately met with a wall of rain. Cursing under your breath, you press yourself against the wall to stay under the little awning and light a cigarette. Your hands are shaking still from the boiling emotions that had been unloading between Valentino and you seconds ago. Of course, the moth demon couldn´t even give you the moment of rest it took to smoke that much needed cigarette.

A few deep drags in, you feel his breath billow over the side of your neck and a hand sneak under your chin to lay on the opposite cheek. Meanwhile, two others lay on your lower back, to pull you closer to him. You can´t help but to stumble closer, but instead of giving in to him like usually, you turn your head away from Valentino even more. He should be the one struggling with having to apologize for once.

“You can hug me as close as you want. I´m still mad at you, Val.” I say in a sharp tone.

There is a small break, the silence filled with a low, confident chuckle from Valentino and the sight of pink smoke wafting around you.

“That´s fine, mi estrella. I know you still love me.” He purrs in that teasing tone, leaning in even closer. “I know you can´t resist my touch.”

You suck on your teeth and bite your tongue in response. He wasn´t wrong. No one´s touch had ever made you feel as good as his did and even though he knew that, giving in now would be equal to letting him win just another fight.

“Come on… You can't possibly pretend to be mad for much longer.” Valentino´s voice is sweet and thick as honey, which makes it hard to not at least turn around any longer. “There we go. I know you can't resist me for long.”

“Oh yeah? Are you sure about that?” You tease back with an equally provoking smile and arched eyebrows.

“Oh yes. In fact, I bet you can't hold out for five minutes after I start kissing you.” Valentino smirks and gently taps your chin to make you look up just a bit more, thus bringing your lips only inches apart.

The challenge certainly catches your interest.

“Hm, let's make this more interesting. I bet I can make it without a single touch from you until we leave the studio.” You raise the stakes.

“Oh oh, you are so confident, lovebug. Alright. I'm up for the challenge.” Valentino lets go of your face, takes a deep breath and smirks. “But if you fail… my hands have free reign to roam wherever they please.”

“You say that as if they don´t already do that day and night.” You shoot back. “Alright, I accept the stakes.” You throw the filter between your fingers onto the streets and with a perhaps too confident sway of the hips the two of you head back inside.

It was easy enough to stay away from him in the beginning, as you were both focused on work, but the hours dragged by more than anything. Hours in which you watched Val´s lips wrapped around the cigarette holder in his hands, giving directions in that deep voice that could melt ice cubes in seconds. And after only that short time your confidence begins to waver, wondering if you could really hold out without his touch under these conditions.

Watching the actors perform, ignited a burn in your body. A longing for Val to treat you like the actors were treating each other in the scene. The way they go at each other in such a primal way, with such intensity, made you yearn to receive the same treatment and hearing Valentino´s voice direct them to act in such a way made it only harder to resist.

However, you are able to take a deep breath and pull through until Valentino begins to play unfair.

He began to accentuate every little thing that made you go wild. And after an especially intense scene, when he blows a heart shaped cloud your way…

You are overcome by your shallow breath and a wildly beating heart.

“Well well well, that didn't take very long now, did it love?” His cerise eyes shine with the knowledge of how easily he had won.

“Only because you were playing unfair…” You grumble under your breath as your nails rake over his chest.

He turns his head and leans close as if to kiss you at that but stops at the last moment. “How needy are you for my touch?”

“So much… Need you more than anything right now.” From behind him you nuzzle your face in his neck to show him your need in the most desperate kisses. “Can we go somewhere else now?”

Valentino laughs at your desperation, purring at the attention you lay on him. One of his hands takes yours to lead you onto his lap. You looked stunning as your lips quivered and chest heaved.

“Only if you ask nicely. Tell me what I want to hear, tesoro.”

You sigh, but can't resist the seductive, low rumble of Valentino’s voice. “You were right. I can't go without your touch. Please, Big V. Please take me upstairs and fucking help me put out the fire you ignited in my veins.”

“Such a good girl.” He leaned forward and put the tips of two fingers to your lips and immediately you know what to do.

With an accelerating heartbeat and burning cheeks, your tongue begins to swirl around the long digits. A muffled whimper escapes your lips, when you feel Val rub the fingers along the wet muscle, pressing down on it ever so slightly.

All too soon he pulls his fingers back out with a wet pop, gently taking your chin between them. “I think you earned yourself a reward.”

A tingling feeling of giddiness runs through your body from the top of your head to the soles of your feet.

Pushing you along behind Valentino, who leads the way to the lounge area above the studio, with fast steps. You don't even realize the way the actors and crew are looking at you. All your focus is on him.

The heavy door hasn't even fallen close when Valentino sweeps you up in his arms and sits the two of you down on one of the large sofas, with you comfortably straddling his lap.

The upper pair of his arms each hold either your chin in a controlling grip or a cigarette between his fingers, while the lower ones rest on your hips, to guide them into a steady rhythm when you start to grind against him. The motions your own body produces are far to desperate and have you whining like a puppy, yet you haven´t got enough restraint left to control it yourself. Seeing it brought a dark chuckle from Valentinos lungs. Your hands wander restlessly up and down his slender body, pawing at his belt.

“My my, you really must have missed me. How long has it been, huh? One hour? Two?” The demon playfully taunts, pulling your face closer by the chin and letting his long tongue caress the shell of your ear.

The question only earns him an impatient whimper from you. “Please, mi amor. No more teasing. I already admitted you were right.”

“And yet it sounds better and better every time you say it. Let me hear it again…” The demand rumbles in your ear in a velvety voice, at the same time he stops your hips from moving even the slightest bit.

“You were right. I need your touch. It feels like I´m literally burning up with need right now.” Your eyebrows furrow and the words get broken up by a sob. That look he gave you already told you that you wouldn´t come for another while, but my, was hope a nice thing.

“See? Doesn´t that sound good? And doesn´t it feel even better to be able to admit to your deepest need?” Val closes some of the distance between your faces. With the widest grin on his lips. “Why don´t you say it one more time, hm?”

“You were right, Val. You were right. You were right, I love your touch and I need it more than anything.” Tears begin to prick in your eyes, however before they can slip down your burning cheeks, they get swept away by a wet tongue.

Without a warning Valentino pulls your face down to bridge the last few inches, to connect your lips for the first time after what feels like forever. With a sigh of relief your hands move up, to run through the soft fur around his neck, which in turn made Val slip his tongue into your mouth.

The long muscle traces over your own tongue and teeth, before you entangle them in a dance that very much perfectly mirrors the passion and neediness between the two of you. And with your colliding lips keeping you just calm enough, you finally manage to open the heart shaped belt buckle, pulling your lovers white dress pants down just far enough to free his cock. Equally hasty your panties get pulled to the side and you sink down on his hardness. Val revels in the moan that leaves your lungs upon it, growling as the sweet, hot, tightness that is your cunt wraps around his length.

“P-please, mi amor. Please, let me come… Can´t take anymore.” There is a thick cloud of pink smoke not only filling the room, but also your brain. Since he had bottomed out in you, Valentino had brought you to the edge countless times and filled you with the thick ropes of his seed half as often. Your begging has become more of a mindless babble at this point and your needy hole aches for relief. Relief that you have spent the past, you don´t even know how long, begging for.

“Awww, baby.” The taunting coo reaches your ear, though you barely understand the words meaning anymore. “Where has your mind gone, huh? Have I fucked you stupid already? And you haven´t even come once yet…”

“Please… Need it. Need to come.” You sputter, weakly fucking yourself on your lover’s cock.

In truth your legs had wanted to give out about the same time that your brain did, but Val had refused to help you and so there was nothing left to do but to follow the one coherent thought left and continue to slide up and down the hard, twitching length.

“Not yet, baby. I know you can keep going longer. I know I can fuck your brain out just a bit more.” The smug smile on his face practically backs to be wiped off, but you have no mind for it. You have to concentrate on getting yourself close to another orgasm that would never come.

Despite the way your legs give out underneath you and your wet eyes are barely staying open on their own, you get yourself up to that cliff again. Even daring to look over the edge as Valentino warns you not to come, but when he pinches your clit, it is over.

Your legs give out and you plop down in Valentino´s lap, mouth open in a weak, high pitched squeak, as the painful release washes over you, shaking your entire body along with it. Once you feel a bit more stable again, you place little kisses to Valentino´s neck again. This time to apologize for having disobeyed his orders.

“´m sorry, Val. I´m so so sorry. Just couldn´t take it anymore. Was too much.” You mumble against his lavender skin.

But all the frantically murmured apologies in the world couldn´t save you from your punishment.

“That´s okay, mi estrella.” The moth demon reassures you eerily calmly, one of his hands tracing soothing circles into your back. “You really needed that orgasm really bad, huh? And you couldn´t think right anymore…”

You nod along with what he is saying, having been so far gone before that the release couldn´t entirely bring back your mind.

“Hm, sadly you still disobeyed me and you know what that means. I´ll have to punish you.” Before you can even think about protesting or begging for mercy, Valentinos four arms hold you close to his lean body as he shifts the two of you until your back is on the red cushions and he leans over you. “Since you wanted to come so badly that you even disregard my words, now you won´t stop coming until I say so.” He grins, wiping away some of the tears and the sweat that were sticking to your skin.

Your back arches and you cry out when Val first starts to slowly thrust into you all over again, but you are also smarter than to try to protest. So all that´s left to do now is to mentally ready yourself as much as possible for however extensively he thought you needed to be punished.

[m00nsbaby]

Glitter & crimson.

Marc Spector x F!Reader.

Next part.

Tags - warnings. College AU, no mentions of Jake/Steven, suggestive but not smut, cheating.

For my Pedrito Pascal / Oscar Isaac girlies I’m so sorry but Joel is indeed based on Joel Miller pre-outbreak lol.

Word count. 2.1k

Summary. "Marc is clever. One word I wouldn't like to use is manipulative, but I wouldn't be lying; he knows exactly when and how to do things.” 

He knows Joel is watching, that one misplaced look and the false confidence he puts in him will be gone, so he carefully chooses his words and makes everyone else believe he would never cross the line with you.

You seemed to be in denial of the obvious, because above all the bad that could be behind that puppy face, there was the fact that he was your best friend, and you loved him, no matter if he was a good or bad person.

A talent he didn't know he had until he met your boyfriend was that of acting. Choosing which mask to wear on each occasion to his advantage.

When Joel was with you, he always kept his distance. After greeting you with a hug, you wouldn't feel Marc's hands on you again until the moment he was about to leave, giving you the most insipid hug he could manage as a way to say ‘goodbye’.

When you were alone, the story was completely different, and both, like two peas in a pod from the first time you exchanged words, spent time together as if you needed each other to breathe.

Though, for Marc, that's exactly how it felt.

The fact that Joel was older than you didn't help. Not so much older that your relationship would be something weird, rather enough for him to have slightly more adult concerns like work and taxes while you were still suffocated by university worries.

You saw each other maybe two or three times a week, but neither of you minded. (Marc didn't mind either; the farther apart he was, the better.)

"The couple of the century." Applause greeted you as both joined the party. You rolled your eyes, knowing they were just teasing, Marc, on the other hand, pretended to bow with one hand while the other rested on your lower back.

Apart from your group of friends, there were at least ten more people, nothing too wild. More like a typical party for young adults, students with enough budget to survive the next two weeks.

"Do you want something to drink?" Amidst the music and noise of the crowd, Marc had to lean in close to whisper in your ear.

His hand never left your body.

"I’ll have whatever you have." You smiled, leaning in enough for him to hear you.

You felt the stares of others fixed on you. Even at this point in your lives, you were not exempt from gossip.

And it seemed that you both were determined to feed the rumors; you, unconsciously, and Marc, enjoying pushing the narrative that you were an adorable couple without a care in the world about a guy in his 30s with a stupid job at a construction company.

When Marc returned with your drink, he sat next to you on the couch, tapped your glass before taking a sip of his, and his free hand rested on your thigh, specifically on the part where your dress didn't cover your skin.

You were used to it. To him. To his hands.

"And when will you make it official?" Someone asked, breaking the moment of intimacy between you both.

"Make what official?"

"Our thing, silly," Marc replied with a teasing smile on his lips.

"But we're not..."

"Soon," he interrupted, this time looking at the girl who had asked, someone from the classroom, one of those who said out loud how much they wanted 'a Marc in their life.'

You rolled your eyes, smiling, and quietly sipped from your glass.

You didn't question it. Little did you know that Marc took every opportunity to make you look like his to the eyes of others.

Gradually, the party started to take shape, you felt more and more crowded among the people, and the volume of the music began to rise until you couldn't continue chatting.

"Let's dance." You nodded immediately as the sofa began to fill up with strangers, and you let Marc pull your hands to get up.

"I can't stand this dress anymore." You said, adjusting the hem of it with your fingers.

"I'll help you take it off later." his lips brushed your ear as the number of people on the impromptu dance floor forced you to bump your bodies together.

"Idiot," you said, laughing, while your hands held his, and your hips began to follow the rhythm of the music slowly.

This was Marc's favorite part, even though he always ended up struggling with his tight pants for reasons beyond his control.

"Is tonight still on?" He whispered when he had you close. You were facing away from him, and your hips continued moving against your best friend's, his hands slowly traveling up and down your waist.

"When have I canceled a sleepover?" You raised your voice, looking over your shoulder at him.

Poor Marc was about to have an orgasm in the middle of his university friends, but could anyone blame him? Your body rubbed against him in that short, tight dress.

He mentally thanked the loud music for silencing his moans every time you moved to the perfect rhythm.

"I-I just wanted to be sure."

"Are you tired?" Your movements slowly stopped as you planted a kiss on his cheek. "You're sweating."

"I'm hot." It came from his throat as if someone were strangling him. He even cleared his throat. "Very."

"Let's have a drink and come back." You gave him a little push to make way for you, and he walked behind you, one hand on your hip as an excuse not to lose you among the crowd.

A sigh of relief escaped both of you when you entered the kitchen, closing the door behind you. There was no one else, and the music felt noticeably quieter.

"What do you want? I'll treat you," you joked as you looked at the grouped bottles of alcohol next to the soft drinks. You grabbed two plastic cups.

"Give me the house specialty."

"Say no more." You served two glasses of mineral water without hesitation. When Marc noticed, he couldn't help but laugh as he held his cup.

With a jump, you climbed onto the counter table, spreading your legs to make room for him. It was as if your body worked automatically when it came to Marc. Like clockwork, he settled between your legs to continue drinking from his glass.

"I can't believe I used to hate mineral water before I met you."

"It's spicy water. How could you hate it?" You tried to stifle a laugh.

He laughed with you. One of those silly laughs where the alcohol in your system speaks for you, and the dream of being with someone you love makes things twice as fun as they really are.

The laughter died down little by little, Marc rested his forehead against yours and kept his eyes closed, along with that silly smile.

"Everyone is talking about us." you whispered after a few seconds of silence.

"You're my fake girlfriend after all." you laughed again.

"You have to stop, you'll get me in trouble with Joel.” Just the mention of his name made Marc's stomach churn. He bit his lower lip to avoid saying what he really thought.

"Oh, really?" He opened his eyes again, moving his head slightly to lightly brush the tip of his nose against yours, making you smile. His fingers pressed against your thighs, and you gasped when he pulled you closer to his body with a single tug. Now you were sitting on the edge of the counter.

"Marc?" You swallowed hard when you noticed his gaze fixed on you. The playful and teasing air had suddenly vanished.

"Uh-huh?" He licked his lips, and your gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth. You had felt this kind of impulse before, but you always did your best to ignore it. Even before you met Joel.

He noticed the change in your expression and almost smiled triumphantly. After years, you were beginning to let your guard down. Without waste time; his body leaned forward, and suddenly his lips met yours. You had waited so long for this that you almost stole a moan from each other.

Marc's lips were delicious, even though it hurt you to admit it. Beyond the taste of beer and mint, you could feel him in your mouth, and that was so much more intoxicating than every drink he had prepared for you throughout the night. 

It was desperate, as if he wanted to show you just how much he had desired you over the past years. You felt his tongue exploring your mouth, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, and his hands roaming from your waist to your thighs again and again.

His jeans became uncomfortable again when he managed to make you whimper against his mouth. With you on the edge of the counter, it wasn't hard for him to push his hips against you, grazing your thigh in an attempt to find some relief to his growing boner.

For a moment, he considered it might be a dream; it wouldn't be the first time he had this kind of dream about you. But his alarm always managed to bring them back to reality just as he was about to reach the best part.

Just like now.

Oh no, wait, that wasn't his alarm.

It was your ringtone.

Like a bucket of cold water, he had to snap out of it. You pulled away from him, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged, and lips swollen and moist from Marc's hungry kisses.

"It's Joel." Of course, it was him. It was always him.

You didn't even give him a chance to fully react as you hastily escaped from his embrace and left the kitchen. It felt like the walls were closing in on you, and you felt suffocated.

The garden seemed like a better option.

"How's the party going?" Your boyfriend's cheerful voice on the other end of the line made your stomach churn.

As you licked your lips, you could still taste Marc.

"Amazing, love." You looked at the pair of guys lying on the grass, tipsy and probably about to fall asleep.

"Is Marc there with you? Will you both come back together?"

You swallowed hard.

"Yes, I... yes." A few seconds of silence. Joel was used to your chatty version, the one who started conversations in the worst situations.

"Oh..." More silence. "I'm glad, it's safer that way." His tone of voice indicated he was serious. Another blow to the stomach knowing the trust he placed in both of you. "Will I see you on Sunday?"

"Of course, love." You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a few seconds as if trying to console yourself.

"I won't interrupt you anymore, sugar." As if sweeping away that uncomfortable atmosphere, he returned to his playful and affectionate tone, one that you rarely didn't hear. "I love you, can't wait to see you."

"I love you." You were out of breath. "See you."

You waited in the yard until Marc got tired of your absence. You didn't function well without each other, and in social situations, this was no exception. He came out silently, not asking anything, and you were grateful he didn't.

He placed his red jacket over your shoulders before taking your hand, and you didn't reject him; you never could. You intertwined your fingers together, and it was you who led him to the car.

The car that belonged to both of you, if that made any sense.

The ride back home was silent.

Despite the heaviness in your chest, you couldn't help but let things flow with Marc. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't give him the cold shoulder or ask your body to feel uncomfortable with him.

Both of you prepared to sleep in the usual way. He didn't look back as you took off your dress, and you stood side by side at the sink while brushing your teeth. He did his best to ignore that you were wearing Joel's T-shirt to sleep for days now.

With a gentle push from Marc when it was time to go to bed, you laughed a little and felt a bit more at home with his company.

You followed the routine; he opened his arms to welcome your body, and you snuggled up to him as closely as possible. The way he held you made you sigh with relief.

This was definitely your favorite place. Your home was in Marc Spector's arms.

"I love you, you know that, right?" He whispered in your ear, silently praying that his scent would linger in Joel's stupid shirt.

You nodded slowly, unable to contain your smile.

"I know, Marc." A shiver ran down his spine as he felt your breath on his neck. "I love you too."

If only you said it in the way he wished.

He fell silent when the screen of your phone lit up, partially illuminating the room. He squinted slightly and, as he identified the small heart on the contact name of the text message, he knew who it was from.

Rolling his eyes, he tightened his hold on you, eliciting a playful groan from you. He kissed your hair before snuggling with you, a smile on his face.

Was this going to become a competition? Then so be it.

[flowersbane]

Hihi! I love your writing!! Would you be willing to write a Joshua x reader piece of him comforting the reader who has a nightmare, or the reader comforting Joshua if he has a nightmare? I think either scenario would be really sweet 🥺❤️

hellohello! thank you so much!! i most certainly can! i’ve actually never written a nightmare comfort piece, so it’s not too bad. i am super used to having nightmares tho, lol, so hopefully that… helps? haha, idk. anyways, enough dilly-dallying! hope you like it!

(=´∀｀)人(´∀｀=)

When the Darkness Settles

Joshua Rosfield x Reader

It’s a bit shorter than my usual pieces, so I hope y’all don’t mind. Also, I’m also definitely gonna be writing the reverse comfort version of this, where the reader takes care of Joshua after a nightmare. Because I already have a title in mind for it, lol.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 752

Tags: Nightmares, Comfort, Holding/Hugging, Head Kisses, Protective, Sweet, Unedited

Panic twisted around your limbs like a giant snake.

You were in the depths of the ocean. No matter how far you swam, you could never break the surface.

You were lost in the dark, scrambling around in desperation. No sign of light flickered to life.

You were caught in a heavy smoke. Your breath came in desperate gulps, aching for some reprieve.

Help me, you cried out to no one in particular. Please.

A hand plunged into the water. It gripped your wrist and pulled you upwards.

A flame burst alight, warding off the darkness.

Your lungs took in fresh, night air as your eyes flew open.

Your breaths came out in shallow gasps and hot tears began running down your cheeks. A familiar voice spoke your name. “It’s alright, it’s alright. It was just a dream.” A pair of hands found your arms in the dark. “I’m right here.”

Joshua’s voice began to soothe your worries. A candle lit without either of you reaching for it. Its glow illuminated his golden hair and concerned expression. His brows were knit. His blue eyes were completely focused on your face. He moved his hands from your arms to your shoulders. “It’s alright,” he repeated.

You expelled a shaky breath. “I was— It felt so real.” You pressed the palms of your hands to the sides of your face. “I couldn’t escape and I was alone and I—I just—” Another sob shoook your body, stealing the words from your mouth.

Joshua’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into chest. “I know, it’s alright. Just breathe. Follow my voice. Take a deep breath in.” He inhaled with you. “Then out.”

It helped you relax into him, but your terror was slow to fade. You balled a handful of his shirt’s fabric in your right hand. He tightened his hold of you. He continued to speak so that you would have something other than your nightmare to think about.

“You’re alright. You’re with me now. I would never allow something to happen to you. Would that I could follow you into your dreams, and ward off any darkness that threatens to settle.” His hold tightened yet again.

You let the scent of his clothes ground you further. He always smelled faintly of a crackling flame, but more than that, he smelled like Joshua. He smelled like the earth and the sea. And flowers that bloomed under the harshest conditions.

You pressed your face into the cotton of his sleepwear. He moved a hand to the top of your head and ran it down to the base of your neck. He repeated the motion as he continued to speak. “I may not be able to prevent the terrors that plague your sleep, try as I might, but I will always be here when you wake. Always.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His hand settled on the back of your neck. “I desire nothing more than to see you happy, but I will never shy away from your pain. Confide in me. Rely on me. Share with me your burdens so that we might bear them together.” He lowered his head so that it was resting in the crook of your neck. His breath fanned against your skin. His hold tightened even further. “I would have all of you, my love.”

You pressed your hand against his chest. “Thank you, Joshua, but—” you pushed a little harder, “your grip is a bit….”

“Hm? Oh!” He loosened his hold on you, a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry.”

You laughed a little. “It’s alright.” You took his hand in yours. “Could you… hold me until I go back to sleep?’

His expression softened. “Of course, my love.”

You laid back down with his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat seemed to send tiny vibrations through you. You count each one that passes as your body and mind begin to calm. With every one, you recall something about him that you love.

One, his smile. Two, his kindness. Three, his laugh.

Your breathing steadied.

Four, his bravery. Five, his eyes. Six, his unwavering loyalty.

Your eyelids began to feel heavy.

Seven, his hair. Eight, his patience. Nine…

You felt yourself slipping back into unconsciousness; but this time, you felt as if a part of him followed you. Ready to guard you from any monster, ready to fend off any terror, ready to ward off any darkness.

[creepling]

if i may suggest a slight idea for a nubbins/sonny drabble… perhaps something wholesome like nubbins giving him a charm bracelet or necklace? maybe its even made out of animal bones (or so he tells sonny) so it doesn’t totally scare him LOL

NUBBINS/SONNY MY BELOVED. they are my jeland at this point and and i love this idea so here's what i came up with!! been a hot minute since i've written a c/c pairing heheh.

tags: nubbins sawyer/sonny williams. gift giving. captivity. slight mention of death. this is as fluffy as tcm can get lol. 744 words.

Nubbins spent all day making the bracelet, scraping up the small bones scattered around his room and taking grandma’s old sewing kit. She had those elastic strings that are good for bracelets. Nubbins tied it together, sticking his tongue out in concentration. Once it was tight enough, Nubbins got up from his dusty mattress and placed it delicately into his pouch – heading straight to the basement.

“He’s gonna love it – yeah – gonna love it!” He muttered under his breath. He lowers into a crouch as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, sneaking past Drayton in the kitchen peeling potatoes and down to the basement. He slides the metal door open, hoping the radio upstairs is loud enough to mask the thud. But Drayton did not holler, so Nubbins took his chance and slid the door closed, jogging through the tunnels to the makeshift ‘holding cells’.

Nubbins liked to think the basement was a barn, rooms sectioned for the meat. But one room had more than just meat. Inside was Nubbins’ new best friend.

Sonny flinched as Nubbins entered unannounced, the clank of chains haunting his ears and Nubbins locked the door behind him. Sonny sensed every move they made, tracking their whereabouts. The last few days – no, weeks? Sonny has noticed the wiry guy that caught him in a trap only visits him. As his friends rot in cells, or on meathooks – the man visits him with gifts, food, and a shit eating grin. At least once a day, without fail. But Sonny still cowards in the corner when he enters, unequipped for the day he decides to take him to the slaughter.

“Hey!” Nubbins had all the confidence until he was faced with Sonny. Then he shrivels back into his shell, twitching smirks on his face that he cannot control. Sonny saw he had a lot of tics; face tics mostly. But sometimes he swings his hands too close to his pockets. Where he keeps the knife…

When Sonny didn’t answer, Nubbins lowered himself to his level on the ground, slowly approaching him like wounded prey. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I ain’t hurted ya yet, have I?”

You caught me in a trap, asshole. Sonny wanted to say. His ankle still ached, but the guy patched him up before it got infected. Said something about not wanting to spoil prime meat. Sonny levelled to reason with him as best he could. He noticed he’s more calm – even excited when he’s nice to him. Anything to keep him alive, I guess.

Sonny watched his hands carefully as he dug into his furry pouch, pulling out a bone bracelet with a flat hand. Nubbins presented it to Sonny like a peace offering, his twitching smirk spreading into a wide smile.

“I made this for ya,” Nubbins giggled, “Do ya like it?”

Sonny hesitantly took it from his sweaty palm, examining it with careful eyes. His callous, bruised fingers traced along the dry bone. Its fragments were too small to make out where the bones came from. God forbid if it’s–

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sonny forced a smile, finally having the courage to make eye contact with him. Nubbins witnessed the glint in his eye, his brown eyes dark in the lightless room; still shining like they do in the Texan dawn. Nubbins scratched the heat crawling up his neck, averting his eyes in a sheepish manner.

“Sure I did. It- It will go nice with ya other bracelet. Oh – and the necklace!” Nubbins said, “I made it small since you got small wrists. Like me.”

Sonny slid the bracelet along his wrist, feeling the grooves of the bones scrape against his skin. It was true to size, like Nubbins said, and if it wasn’t for the circumstances Sonny would feel flattered.

“Thanks, man,” Sonny slightly choked on his words, replacing the uncertainty with a slight smile.

He liked it. He really did like it. Nubbins was pleased, fiddling with his fingers, filled with so much joy that his body began to rock back and forth like a giddy school girl. Ever since Robert went to Vietnam, Nubbins has been awfully lonely. Like a part was missing from him. For the first time in years, he feels that has been filled. He now has Sonny, who likes his bracelet, and vicariously can like him too. Nubbins sure hopes he likes him like he does.

“Anything for my new best friend!”

[musicismymoirail]

OC Speech Mannerisms

Thank you @darkfire1177 for the tag! Tagging mhm, @the-golden-comet and @midnight-octopus (no pressure either) and anyone else if y'all want too. <3 I'm picking Vendetta because ne is the only one I've really thought about actual speech mannerisms in long time and I have thoughts, lol. Let's go! >:3

»» vendetta frey

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high (and raspy af) / average / deep

ACCENT: Yes (kinda?) / No

(Nir speech is accented to a degree, but it's just because Vendetta tends to mimic people so much. There's an something here, but given it's such a smorgasbord of dozen or so accents Ven's picked up over the years, it's never gonna sound like anything that specific.)

DEMEANOUR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other (dramatic with friends, indifferent with strangers)

POSTURE: slumped (absolute goblin, nir spine is a noodle) / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting (!) / stuttering / gesturing (!!!!!!) / arm crossing / strokes taps chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤

(Ne has an odd habit of speaking in threes sometimes when describing things, like ne is trying to find the perfect word. Caused Anathema to buy nem a thesaurus thick enough to kill a baby bird and Ven loved using all the ridiculous words ne knew when ne could. It was fun~)

EMOTION: ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

(Should be a four+ but the Farm is hard to shake sometimes.)

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⬤⬤〇〇〇

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⬤◐〇〇〇

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

(Mhm. Vendetta swears more in Spanish, but prefers trading insults in English. Ne doesn't swear that much, insults way more or just bites people. Biting is a fun and fast and says more like 'fuck you' ever could. c:)

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never

(Not unless Vendetta is being purposefully obtuse but ne likes being heard too much to do that much, even as a joke.)

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S INTENDED POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

(More than you'd guess from nir bite ratio? Vendetta craves people and connections like nothing else, so eventually ne does reach out to make conversations, at least pre-Heartbreak).

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps (so rare, but so good. loves a well-placed mayhaps).

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that's everything / say that's everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn't.

(Bonus? Because I spent my whole walk home last week thinking about this and it's adjacently related, so fuck it~

Vendetta sings like a sledgehammer (affectionate), just a lot of emotion and power. Ne loves over-the-top songs since it's fun to go full-out. Mhm. Voice is a bit similar to Gin Wigmore? o: High pitched, raspy, not really traditionally 'pretty' but quirky and fun. It did get a bit lower and even more raspy post-Heartbreak tho Because Reasons, and Ven really doesn't sing as much anymore. Just when ne gets possessed by the few songs ne remembers and Must Sing. uwu <3)

[nerdyenby]

Aqua time :D I’m watching H’s vod

Pregame

The calm before the storm is worse, 100% agree. The event is amazing but the wait before and after the end are such low lows

H and Dave just vibing :))

“False is here too?! Surely something must’ve been scheduled” I love H so much

“It’s been 1,217 days since I’ve won MCC, but who’s counting?” “… You?” I think I’ve seen a grand total of one Dave Krtzyy video but between finding out they’re nonbinary, this joke, and the raw vibes??? I love him

Talking about how the npc cat is thick AND smarter than all of them combined is killing me

Dave saying they hope sands of time “will do from my enemy to my lover” 😭

False is so funny she doesn’t get enough credit

Parkour Tag

Cub cracked????

False did such a good job hunting we need to talk about it

I got so startled by Beky getting H I slammed my elbow into my desk lol

Rocket Spleef

Dave Krtzy having banger opinions left and right, good for them

He really is just saying stuff and all of its iconic, from “the rare true democracy” to “channel your inner elytra”

People taking the time to type during rocket spleef will never not be funny to me

Everyone hitting Jimmy is so Jimmy of him

False top 5 :))

Dave top 10 after getting 35th??? We love that improvement

Phil is never not an icon

Unfortunate minecraft physics, rip

H and Dave being 19th and 20th is so funny because I was like “buddies :D” and H said “I’m beating you, suck it”

H affectionately bullying Dave is my new favorite thing, actually

Sands of Time

“I uh don’t have the best track record at uh…. being good at sands of time” Dave 😭

“Hi HBomb!!” from H and his teammates is so sweet

I love the calm vibes, no frantic strategizing, just clarifying and communicating

“Dave I’m gonna be pestering and annoying the hell out of you” “As you should” I love them

H: “Has anyone seen the blue pathway” also H: *is currently in the blue pathway* my streamer’s oblivious /lh

False 9th and everyone hyping her up :D

Sky Battle

I love skybattle I swear but I was zoned out like the entire time

H killing Sniff :( my boys :((

Dave was so sad when they fell, it’s okay dude <333

Good plays in round 3!!!

Ace Race

Merely vibing

H popped off and didn’t even think anything of it, the raw power

Battle Box

Aw don’t love that slump where everyone stops listening to each other. It happens with most teams, it’s not their fault, people just get too in their own heads

False literally said it was their side like three times :(

That round was clean

The final round coming down to Purpled on 2 health vs Dave on 1 was such a good final fight, holy crap

Grid Runners

Best game time :D

They’re improving every round, I love that for them

I don’t think I properly appreciated how fast cyan’s crafting grove was before just now

They slayed waterfall lamps tho

H’s mind, man

I love when people who are historically more withdrawn take charge without hesitation, MCC has done so much for H’s confidence <3

Omg they got first????

“God, our minds are so huge compared to these dorks” “MASSIVE!!”

Own that confidence kings!! Love that for them <33

H is such a cool guy, he’s genuinely enthusiastic about how they’re 2nd without a top 10 individual. He just thinks it’s neat. He’s a top player who doesn’t care about stats but experience, and that’s what makes him the epitome of MCC :)

H saying “if another team goes nutty and gets a massive amount of fruitberries points or whatever then they deserve it, they can take our spot” WHAT DID I JUST SAY?? We stan one (1) cishet white guy here and it’s HBomb94

TGTTOSAWAF

Dave’s speech <333 I love them

I felt H’s stress there, that was so intense but he popped off

Dave doing an AMAZING speed bridge and then complimenting H’s strat, they’re so supportive I love them sm

“Sorry Dave, I’m gonna lower your points for things like that, cause you could’ve gotten first in that” “No, I do not care about that, I care about that sweet, succulent coin… that was a weird way to describe it”

The new finalist announcement is so suspenseful only to ruin it with a bubble sound effect lol

They’re so excited to get Dave their first win since MCC1 :))

They find it so cool that they got here without any top 10 individuals “purely balanced”

Dodgebolt

“Last time I was in dodgebolt I was a wee lad […] I was freshly 21, now I’m like 48 or something”

INSTANT he/they on he/they violence by Dave Krtzy lol

Aqua’s accuracy is wild, goodness!!!!

Their coms are so clean

H snatching that arrow!! I don’t even remember that from watching cyan

False calming asserting that she knows what she needs, not them, will never not be iconic

False saying that she’s down next arrow only for all her team to talk over eachother about how she’s got this and they believe in her <3

FALSE SUPREMACY!!!!! THAT 1V3!!!!!!!

Dave winning the first events of seasons 1 and 3 my beloved

FALSE DONT NEED PRACTICE

“False, that was insane, you 1v3’d that” “WHAT THE HECK WAS I DOING??” “You we WINNING, that’s what you were doing, you fool”

“1,217 days, bro” “It’s zero, it’s zero now!!” I love them

This team <33333

The most well-rounded team of all time, I love them.

Or as False puts it: “we weren’t cracked, we were just solid”

[ambrosykim]

tagged by @grapecaseschoices on my main to assign dnd classes to some ocs based on their personalities! thank u for tagging me <3

since i'm currently rereading atoc, i decided to use my crowns for this (also i did subclasses for both of them bc i love dnd and wanted to know more lol)

jêla (she/her, sun's blessing) - warlock, pact with the fiend

You're a charming and ambitious person who cares a lot about the people you are close to. Sometimes you might worry that you rely too much on the help of others, as if you're not good enough on your own, but you have a knack for pulling out unexpected skills or solutions at just the right moment. You may have a bit of lazy side at times. You have dreams for the future and you want to end up better off than where you began.

You have made a pact with a fiend from the lower planes of existence, a being whose aims are evil, even if you strive against those aims. Such beings desire the corruption or destruction of all things, ultimately including you. You’re a bold person who goes after what you want with fierce dedication. You prefer to be straightforward, efficient, and to leave no room for compromise if you can help it. You’re very resilient and it takes a lot to bring you down. You believe that you control your own destiny and you have the ambition and determination to make sure you’ll get to where you want to be.

these are very accurate to her!!! she can think on her feet and can charm the pants off anyone. from the two of them, jêla would be the one to get used to being in charge and being in a position of power much more easily, she's definitely ambitious in that sense. the fiend part is interesting bc her affinity is fire hehe <3 while she's not straightforward by any means (my girl loves lying <3) she always gets up after being knocked down and doesn't believe in fate, choosing to think she can alter hers however she wants to.

nîyan (she/her, death of the sun) - cleric, domain of light

You’re dedicated, caring, and probably a sucker for happy endings. You spend so much time helping other people that you might forget to take care of yourself. You’re very idealistic and have a strong sense of faith in your beliefs, which may be actual religious beliefs or just your personal moral code. You like to be prepared for a variety of situations and you may have a bit of a protective side.

Gods of light promote the ideals of rebirth and renewal, truth, vigilance, and beauty, often using the symbol of the sun. You appreciate beautiful things and you might be interested in the arts. You’re a naturally cheerful person and sometimes your enthusiasm might come on a bit strong. You believe that honesty is the best policy and you’re no fan of liars and cheaters. Sometimes you burn with passion, sometimes you shine with confidence, sometimes you radiate joy, and it takes a lot to try to bring you down.

designated daydreamer and romantic, nîyan loves other people and taking care of their every need (maybe bc that allows her to neglect her own mental wellbeing) she also feels very protective of the people she's close to even though most of them are perfectly capable of doing that themselves. also the subclass being associated with the sun??? hello???? she's a bit of an artist, she might've become a potter or sg similar in another life. she's honest to a fault (very blunt. yikes) though she doesn't show many feelings, she's a very resilient person

tagging @celticwoman @griffin-wood @astarien @rosykims @narrativefoiltrope and whoever wants to do it!! feel free to tag me i love reading about others' ocs <3

[froggytimemachineinternet]

some pretty asks :]

@boygenuiss, this is your ask list, im just doing it weird because i had half the questions answered when i realised i hadn't rebloged :[

Is there anyone youd do anthing for? my brother mal. for the sake of being cringe i will not be tagging them. \

what facinates you? astrophysics and the persuit of knowledge, and the application of knowledge

favorite artists? Hozier, and Barbara Levalle (a painter)

what outfit makes you feel most confidant? clothes were i feel as though i am fully covered. (leather/denim) it makes me feel safe

favorite flower? Alaskan SalmonBerry. its the flower im named after

favorite season? Fall. before i moved down to the lower 48, i had never seen fall. it lasted about 2 weeks, if you were lucky, where i grew up.

favorite movie/tv show? i really enjoyed Fairy tail, however i am a hardcore mlp show. i watched the shit outta that as a kid

favorite color? dark raspberry, but the kind you see in a ruby.

infatuation/first crush? a boy in my kindergarten class named Darius, he ended up bullying me later on though. RIP

How long do you sleep on average? As a person with clinical insomnia, not much and the stuff i get isnt very good

what celebrity do i look like? i have never had somone tell me i look like someone

whats your favorite scent? settling cheesecake, i make it homeade and nothing smells better than a cheesecake while its still batter

Pets? i have had 3 in my life. 1 passed away when i was a child, the other 2 are seniors and living their best life.

what color is your hair natually? what color would you die it? I have dark brown hair, that kinda shines yellow. i would die the ends of my hair forest green

do you have a good relationship with your parents? no. neither of them, or my siblings.

do you take a yearly vacation? i do not have that kinda money

biggest fear? not being strong enough to keep myself safe/not being able to outlast my disablity.

are you taken? no. i have chronically low rizz

what do you wear to bed? lounge wear, the comphy clothes i wear around the house.

best feeling youve ever exsperienced? i dont really have any? i lost a shit ton of my memories due to ptsd. so, im sure im gonna make some good memories, later on in life

whats your skincare routine? i wash my face with bar soap and water, whenever i wear makeup. otherwise i just kinda leave my face alone.

best gift youve ever recieved? as a child i got a lightsaber for christmas, after thinking i wouldnt get it because i was a girl. (i really should have noticed i was trans a while before i did)

favorite book? its a toss up between Skullduggery Pleasent and Septimus Heap. and an honorable mention to Pride and Prejudice.

do you have a garden? plants? nope, i live in an apartment and the plants draw in bugs, no sir.

dream destination? ive always wanted to live in Iceland! far, far away free to be someone outside of the shit ive dealt with

best subject? math. for sure math. once i understand the material i fly through it. i would say that science is my favoite subject, considering im planning on becoming an Astrophysist.

do you want kids? no, never, i woudnt be a good parent and i dont wanna bring kids into this world anyway, this place sucks. esp wher i live lol

whats your sexuality? im bi-romantic, and asexual.

do you prefer loose or baggy clothes? i prefer to wear soft heavy clothes. unfortuanly i live in the south. so no warmth for me. well. to much warmth rather

nail polish? i am currently wearing cobalt blue! i like wearing bold colors when i actually do wear it.

if you could travel to any time period, when would it be and why? i would travel far back to when my native tribe hadnt been decimated. so i could see what my ancestors, my family, actually did. the truth is hard to find after they (genocide perpatrators) tried to bury it all.

do you want/have tattoos and peircings? i want another 2 lobe peircings, and i might get some other ear ones! i am a coward however. i am planning on getting a Tlingit (my tribe) story tatooed on my back, and im also going to get some salmonberry flowers on my neck, surrounding my head/neck like a necklace!

tag list (feel free to ignore if you guys dont wanna do it)

@grandwretch you're my first mutual btw :]

@antipasto-the-theif @puffin-smoke @anunmarkedface @no-see-um-incorrect @new-kanon @bagelbucket @psychethebutterfly

[viiisenyas]

I’m rewriting some of the scenes in my Val/Hawke longfic that I’m not satisfied with anymore, especially now that I’ve further developed Arthur’s character. So this is the scene in Ostagar where Arthur sees Valeriana for the first time in weeks, and I decided to make it more... in character for him lol.

Prepare for a little bit of angst ;n;

I will go ahead and tag @n7viper​​, @psalacanthea​​, @plisuu​​, @sulky-valkyrie​​, and anyone else that wants to give it a go!

Amell

“Well met. My name is Wynne,” She looked over his new robes gifted to him by Duncan, “Allow me to congratulate you on your Harrowing. Marvellous work. The Fade is indeed a dangerous place.”

Andraste’s knickers, not her.

Anders often warned him not to get sucked into conversations with Wynne as they’d turn into seemingly endless lectures with no way out.

“I found it terrifying,” Arthur replied, curtly.

“I thought the same. It’s good that you can admit that,” She nodded, “So… a Grey Warden fighting alongside a king. Not too shabby for someone just out of apprenticeship.”

“King Cailan believes the battle will go well.”

“The King must always seem confident. His behaviour affects the troops’ morale,” Wynne continued, and Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Not that what she was saying wasn’t true, it was that she wouldn’t stop talking.

He tuned her out for a moment as he caught a glimpse of familiar crimson hair from the corner of his eye, and his heart fluttered.

“I-I should get going,” he interrupted, “It was a pleasure.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you. I’m certain Duncan has more for you to do than talk to me.” She gave him one last smile as he hurried away in the direction that he saw Valeriana walking in.

Arthur ran his fingers through his black hair as he ascended the vast walkway that led to what used to be a temple, and he opened his mouth to call to her, but his voice died in his throat when he saw her talking to a Grey Warden with sandy brown hair alongside another Senior Enchanter.

That must be Alistair.

He opted not to interrupt, remembering that the guard mentioned that he was delivering a message to the mages. Instead, he approached slowly and listened to the conversation that was taking place.

“Haven’t the Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?” The Senior Enchanter sneered, folding his arms over his chest.

Arthur fixed his gaze on Valeriana, and her emerald eyes brightened when she saw him. Her lips parted, and he grinned, waving at her. She looked away, and he furrowed his brow as her expression became melancholic.

He frowned and tilted his head to the side.

“I simply came here to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, ser mage,” Alistair said, “She desires your presence.”

“What her Reverence desires is of no concern to me!” The senior enchanter scoffed, “I am busy helping the Grey Wardens— by the King’s orders might I add!”

“Should I have asked her to write a note?” Alistair seemed amused, and Arthur could hear the sarcasm that laced his voice. He reminded him of Anders, and he smirked.

“I said I was busy!”

“It would not be wise to ignore the Revered Mother, Harold,” Valeriana spoke up, “Maybe we should—”

Harold jerked his arm from her and glared at the young mage before she lowered her eyes.

“Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!” Harold scoffed.

“Yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message,” Alistair retorted.

“Your glibness does you no credit.”

“Here I thought we were getting along so well,” Alistair shifted his brown eyes to Valeriana and winked, “I was even going to name one of my children after you... The grumpy one.” 

Arthur looked at Valeriana, expecting to see her smiling along with him, but instead, she seemed dejected, and his expression fell. 

“Enough. I will speak to the woman if I must. Get out of my way, you fool!” Harold pushed past Alistair forcefully before walking away and Valeriana trailed behind him.

“Valeriana, wait!” Arthur seized the opportunity to grasp her wrist and pull her into a warm embrace before he kissed her tenderly. He caressed her hair, but his heart sank when he felt her tensing against him. 

She pulled away, and put a respectable distance between them. She shifted her eyes to Alistair before looking at Arthur again. “What are you doing here?” 

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he frowned.

“I am,” she nodded. “I am.” She offered the same practised smile he’d seen before. “But I shouldn’t linger here.”

His lips parted. “What’s wrong, love?” 

She didn’t answer. He searched her eyes, and his gaze fell to the dark bruises that covered her neck. His eyes widened, and he looked her over. Arthur took her hands into his before he spotted the surrounding bandages on her injured fingers. 

“Maker’s breath,” Arthur gasped, “what happened to your hands?”

“I…” She glanced down the walkway before she took a shaky breath, “I didn’t mind the gap in the bridge, and I fell.”

Arthur gave her a disapproving look. She was never a talented liar, and he knew there was plenty of room to prevent an accident like that.

“Val, you realise that I know when you’re lying?”

“I’m not!” She retorted, taking another step back, “I fell, and if it hadn’t been for Trevelyan—” Valeriana paused, and her expression crumpled. Her eyes became glossed as tears threatened to spill from them, and she shook her head. “I have to go, I can’t be seen talking to you.” She turned to walk away again, and her words pierced him.

What?

“Hey!” He caught her wrist once more, and raised his voice. “What in blazes is that supposed to mean?”

She flinched as he pulled her closer to him, and his angered expression fell.

“Love,” Amell said, softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

“I have to go!” She wrenched her hand from his grasp and hurried down the ramp.

“You know, one thing about the Blight is how it brings people together,” Alistair chuckled pulling Arthur from his thoughts.

“Sorry, what?” Arthur replied as he turned to face the Warden.

“I hadn’t figured the new recruit would be something of a romantic. So, what’s the story with you two?” Alistair asked, raising his brows. “Trouble in paradise?”

“What? No!” Arthur shook his head, astounded by the notion. “Everything was fine when she left…” He looked over his shoulder and familiar blond hair came into view just down the walkway. 

The Templar’s armour caught the sunlight, nearly blinding him. As Trevelyan grabbed Valeriana by her arm and dragged her out of view, a chill crawled up his spine. He was aware of Elliott’s harassment and his rude handling of her when she was being disciplined, and he bit the inside of his cheek.

No. The Templars wouldn’t dare to beat the mages in public.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure she’s just busy,” Alistair shrugged. “And we’re not exactly supposed to be bothering the mages, anyhow— at least… not today.” 

Amell turned his gaze back to Alistair and worried his thumb between his teeth before he nodded, slowly as his concern for her diminished.

That explains a lot. She’s probably exhausted. But that doesn’t explain the...

“She is a beauty, though.” Alistair’s cheerful tone interrupted his thoughts again, and the man grinned as he tilted his head.

“Aye…” the mage sighed and a half-hearted smiled stretched his lips. “She is. I’m Arthur, by the way,” He extended his hand to greet Alistair, and the warrior grasped his forearm.

“Well met. I’m Alistair, the new Grey Warden… though I suppose you already knew that,” Alistair laughed sheepishly before clearing his throat, “As a junior member of the order, I’ll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining.”

“I can’t prepare on my own?” Arthur raised a brow. He wasn’t against the idea, seeing as Alistair’s humour was endearing. It was just that he was enjoying his independence for the first time.

“I know! I felt the same way you did when I did this. Unfortunately, they don’t give us much choice.”

“Let’s get on with this, then,” Arthur nodded. “What’s the Joining like, anyhow?”

[snowmuttgetsweird]

5/2/23, late morning

Been a minute.

I've mostly just been too occupied to really post here- not all bad stuff, some good stuff. Between work and play, I've been too tired to type most evenings, so I'm just taking a little time out of my morning while I sip some coffee to journal a bit.

I've been working really hard to try to catch up on commission stuff. A couple months ago I had like, a two-week long burnout where I BARELY worked at all- and if I did it was like, the absolute bare minimum, at a snail's pace. Since then I've been paying for it- I end up working on the PREVIOUS month's commissions during the time I need to be taking NEW work for the NEXT month's rent, plus Patreon Mini Commissions (I still need to do those for April in fact), and it kinda just keeps snowballing. I AM further along with commissions this time around than last month though, so I AM starting to actually catch up with my workload. It helps that my clients have been very patient with me, I'm so thankful for that. I'm glad they can be so confident that I WILL get their art done given the time to do so, and that they're willing to wait. I guess that's just the fruits of my hard work to ensure that's the truth of things. I ALWAYS finish the piece. I had one slip on that like two years ago and I made a personal vow never to let it happen again. Trello helps with that.

Besides work, I'm trying to still make time for play.

I DID make enough to buy the Digimon cards I wanted- about $45 bucks worth, so that's really cool. Digimon is nice, specifically because it's one of the cheaper TCGs I can play. I've mostly abandoned Yugioh because of the price tag. Initially I started playing Gallantmon because of the structure deck when I was first getting into the game, and since then I've stuck with it and haven't bothered to build anything else. Being a lower-tier/rogue deck, it's on the cheaper side even by Digimon standards as long as I don't invest in alternate art cards. In addition to that, being a popular, main character digimon, Gallantmon will likely, consistently, receive more support throughout the game's lifespan, so I should consistently have opportunities to expand and evolve the deck as long as the game goes on. Even if it's mid now, statistically, it'll likely get enough support to become genuinely strong later. Plus, Guilmon is just an absolute cutie.

That aside, a good friend of mine gave me the money to just straight up buy Resident Evil 4 Remake. He was enjoying it so much, knew I wanted it, and knew I wouldn't be able to afford it myself for quite some time, that he basically just bought it for me, so I've been playing that most evenings after work. It's /really/ good, and really I couldn't imagine a better game to invest in. RE4 has always had really good replay value, and the same can be said for REm4ke. I plan to play the game over and over for a while.

I've also been trying to learn chess on the side. I've always been interested in chess and enjoyed playing, but I'm quite bad and never really put time or effort into studying openings or anything. At this point in my life, with so much going on, I'm not sure I have the time to dedicate to it AND my other hobbies.

My roommate's birthday is coming up. I'd love to buy them something, but that might be out of the question, so I'm thinking of doing some art, getting it printed and framed, and gifting them that. I've got an idea for a three-piece suite I'd like to do maybe that could display well on a wall or atop a shelf- SFW, of course.

Uhh I think that's it for now, I'm not sure what else to say. I don't really have anything else going on, I'm just working and playing games. That never really changes lol.

TTYL.

[anisespice]

“ joyride ”

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. vulgar language (fuck, bitch, hole, etc.) reader wears dress and has “tits” in shin’s bit still gn!reader, college!mikey, college!draken, non-canon timeline, voyerism, implied spit-roast (or maybe eiffel tower? idk), implied threesome, i think that’s it.

note: i’m off work >:) lol i hope i did your request justice, anon!

the sounds you were making had SHINICHIRO delirious as he damn-near rammed you into the handlebars of his bike, biting his lower lip to hold back his own noises to focus solely on yours. it was an awkward position, not ideal, but he was impatient. it was your own fault for wearing such a tight dress to the club, ass and tits practically spilling out and giving a show to every hound dog and bitch in heat. how could he keep his hands to himself? not like you were complaining.

“s-shin! ngh— i-i can’t..i d-don’t-“

“mmhm? can’t think, baby? dick that good?”

“y-yes! so good!”

he’d grin, reaching behind you to grip one of the handlebars for more leverage, forcing one of your legs over his shoulder to hit even deeper, rendering you and your quivering hole into a spluttering mess all over the leather of his seat and pants. “shittt, that’s it..want it all over me, baby…gonna go back inside just like this..”

a cloud of smoke is blown in shinichiro’s face, making him glare slightly over at his forgotten companion that was supposed to be keeping watch of any onlookers, only to become one himself. WAKASA merely ignored the annoyed look from his taller counterpart, eyes too busy drinking you in as well, just like he was doing when you walked into the club. he lazily smirked, wasting no time in tagging along when shin dragged you outta there like his ass was on fire.

and he’s so glad he did.

“make ‘em do that again,” he muttered, hypnotized. “this time with your mouth..”

shinichiro would’ve cursed his friend out for giving him suggestions (demands more like) if it didn’t sound like a damn good one.

“..fine.” he relented. “but after that… leave.”

the dual-colored male flicked his cigarette, leaning against the wall as he smoothly blew the smoke towards him again. “mm..maybe after my turn. then i’ll think about it.”

shinichiro would’ve definitely cursed his friend out this time for saying such a bold statement, until he felt your walls practically strangle his dick at the mere thought of waka having a turn. he looked down at you incredulously, shocked but there was no denying the throbbing feeling he got in his balls at the utter debauched look in your eyes.

guess he wouldn’t mind being a lookout…just this once.

—

the small pocket of seclusion right next the shrine was more than enough for MIKEY and DRAKEN to have their fun with you before a meeting, egging each other on, feeding into their insatiable thirst for you and your tightening warmth. it was overwhelming, having you bent over both of the bikes—one end was being utterly destroyed by the unholy girth that was ken ryuguji, while the other stuffed full of the punishable yet pleasurable length of manjiro sano—you could die right there, and the only regret you’d have is not being able to hear them finishing inside of you at the same time.

“goddamn, doll.. might wanna relax a little, yeah? m-mikey’s not gonna last otherwise..”

“f-fuck off…ken-chin…” mikey hissed, head thrown back as he groaned shamelessly, hands holding onto you for dear life as you sucked it right out of him. “last longer than you..”

“yeah?” he rasped, a look of challenge morphing in with his fucked out expression, “wanna bet that?…”

draken’s hips stuttered despite his confident proposal, slowing his pace so not to bust too soon. unfortunately, nothing escaped his leader’s perception as he gave a smug grin, hooded eyes igniting with a challenging aura as well.

“hell yes.”

didn’t matter how much they attempted to coax each other to lose, it was a tie every time dealing with you. but, filling you up before a meeting was their favorite, and most effective, way of gathering morale to bring to the group, and you were more than happy to be of assistance for the good of toman.

—

“watch where you put your fucking hands, brush-head.”

HANMA paid no mind to the warning coming from behind him, merely waving it off as the wind, hips continuing their cadence as they plunged into from below, tatted hands holding your ass-cheeks for leverage as he moved you up and down. BAJI growled at being ignored, but was immediately pacified from how much he was enjoying the sight of you being manhandled by his lunatic of a co-member and the shameless moans that spilled from your lips.

when you expressed your interest in fucking the lanky delinquent on his motorcycle, baji wanted nothing more than to kindly knock some sense into you (set your mailbox on fire) but fought against it when you then said you wanted him to watch.

“it would be so fucking hot, kei. plus, you can totally step in any time you feel like he’s going too far.”

the idea of not only seeing you go stupid on dick from a third party perspective, but also having control over what is and isn’t done to you? a little too tempting to just dismiss right away. it took months of convincing and reassuring (and threatening hanma)…and it was so worth it.

“what’s the matter, baji..? ‘fraid i’m hitting spots you’ll never touch?”

“the fuck did you just say!?”

well, on your end, at least.

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

I have a request babe,can u do like toman characters railing their s/o against their motorcycle in a alleyway…mostly like,mikey,hanma,draken,baji,wakasa,shinichiro.Been thinking abt this for awhile and it would make my day..LOVE U AND UR WRITING !! 🩷

HOPE U SEE THIS

[lightning-bringer]

Hi! How are you? Can I make a request? Viego x Ice Queen!Reader. Reader was once a Fire Queen, but because of the tragedy (you can come up with it yourself) she became angry, cold and cruel. Thank you very much!

Hi! I’m sorry this took so long, but I loved writing this, hope you like it too! (also just wanna say your requests are so creative it’s amazing)

Viego and Ice Queen!Reader imagine

Word count: 3.127

Tags: angst (nothing too dramatic but Viego is still madly in love with Isolde), melancholy,  SFW, canon-compliant, implied sex, 

Rate: Teen and Up

A/N: Though I didn’t write the sex scene because the request didn’t say anything about a SFW or NSFW preference, I would gladly write it and post separetly if anyone is interested because I did have some ideas lol. Also though I did write a very open end, I don’t plan for it to be a series or anything, unless someone requests something about it specifically

When the mist came, you weren't afraid.

You had heard of the Ruined King, and his powers were not enough to scare you. Your ice kingdom would stand, as it had through much worse catastrophes than a spoiled King without land or subjects.  

The few servants and subjects you had left were ready to fight. They were also not afraid, for just like you, they had seen worse, and their hearts had been frozen alongside your land and power. When the messanger came with news of the Ruined King's approach, you knew there was nothing in your kingdom Viego could corrupt. You weren't sure there was anything left.

Your surprise was enourmos when the mist came... but the King was alone. The spectres were no match for your magic, the cold of your people's hurts a natural protection against the man's corruption. You didn't know if it was upon realizing that, that the mist drew back, reveling the Ruined King to you, in the middle of a white waste, no sign of cold upon the brutal wind, sword nowhere to be seen and arms raised.

Viego - was his name, he said - seemed surprised, but there was a small smile playing on his lips.

"Are you the ruler of this island?" He asked. Despite the unforgiving wind, his hair was still gorgeous, moving wildly without getting on his face, his green eyes shining unnaturaly with an otherworldly confidence. The hole on his chest was only mildly unsettling to you.

"I am the Queen of this land, and I don't take kindly to invasors." Your voice boomed around the land, shaking the ground. Your teeth were bared in a snarl, and the sight alone could terrify any mortal man.

Viego though, bowed, a deep one where his head lowered to the point his eyes didn't meet yours. He was clever, you could see, had the etiquette of someone who once was a King, but his posture was still of a spoiled man.

"I ask for your forgiveness, my Queen." You scoffed. Such petty use of a noble way to refer to you. You were not his Queen for he didn't belong in your lands. "I was wrong to believe I could simply pass through your kingdom like a barbarian, destroying everything on my way. I didn't expect to find such strong adversary."

"Is that how you've been passing Runeterra? Destroying everything in your way?"

"Yes."

There was no hesitancy, no backtracking. Viego stared at you, deep into your eyes, and there was such confidence and fire in them, like you hadn't seen in so long, that it took you by surprise.

"You see, my Queen, I have a goal. There's someone I need to find... there's nothing that'll stop me and I won't rest until I have her."

Upon seeing Viego's certainty and strength, you were interested. The winds subsided and your people stood back, as Viego was invited to your castle. There, as you had dinner in a cold, empty hall, Viego told you his story. Told the tale of his dead queen, of his desperate search for a cure for death, and his awakening to a very different world. As he spoke, you could see the fire in his eyes, the passion and anger burning through every single one of his words.

He said he wouldn't rest until he had Isolde back, and you believed him.

"Your powers." He said, later that night, as he was invited for tea with you. Viego was an interesting man, an interesting presence. It had been so longo, so long since you had been in the presence of anyone still warm inside. Anyone who still had a glow in their eyes and passion in their speech.

So you let Viego stay the night and rest, as he said he needed - though you absolutely doubted he needed it. You knew he could read nothing on your expression or answers, couldn't possibly know your interest to him, for it had been a while since your expressions got less and less prominent, and you looked directly at him as he spoke.

"Your powers are magnificent." He repeated. "And they could be the key for the sentinels to defeat me."

He had told you about the sentinels, "foolish ones trying to stop me and keep me away from Isolde", Viego had said during dinner. You raised a brow at his words.

"Is that a threat?" You asked, raising your tone, still not sure what to think of him.

"Or," He continued, swirling his tea, not having touched it during the night "they could be the key for me to win. To take them out of my way and find her."

Right then, a servant walked in. A young maiden, carrying a silver tray with a few tiny cakes in it. Her skin was translucent, her eyes purely white with no pupils or irises. She was as quiet as a mouse, steps making no sound on the marble floor, breath that didn't fan when out in the cold of the palace. Her movements were stiff and wrong.

But she was beautiful, beautiful as a child's doll, and Viego was staring at her in fascination as she took your tea-cup away.

"If you could make more people like that-"

"No." You cut him, the slight amount of anger you could still manage to feel bubbling inside of you. You looked away from Viego's insanely beautiful face, his green eyes boring into yours, eager. "I- I'm not capable of doing that anymore, and the issues of Runeterra don't interest me. My people have suffered enough."

He looked at you, and you feelt a little marveled at how his face was expressive. You had thought, during dinner, that only a man with too much emotions inside him could be driven to do the things he did. Only love and obsession in amounts unimaginable could gather the strength in a man to come back from the land of the dead.  

Right then, you could see perfectly in the furrow of his brows the way his head was wroking, thinking, wondering. When he actually asked, the only thing that surprised you was how capable Viego was of sounding like the King he once had been, and not a nearly insane man driven by grief.

"I told you my story, Y/N" He had started to alternate between using your name and your title now, feeling some kind of intimacy with you "and although you have no obligation to tell me yours, I would like to know."

He leaned forward, just slightly, and you weren't even sure if  he was aware he did it. You averted his eyes once again, taking a deep breath. You couldn't remember ever telling anyone about it. The people who you could tell, the people who would know...

"My people are old." You started, running your fingertips against the wood of your chair "Very old. The royal family comes from a long line of mages who control fire, and our power is drawn from within us and from others. From our deepest emotions, and it's strongest when we are kids. It takes years for us to get as strong as we were when we were only children."

You stopped then, looking up to see Viego staring intently at you. He was paying attention to every little word, drawing it in. You hold back a smile. It had been a while since you had someone who would willingly listen.

"The legends said we had godly blood in our veins, but we turned our back to Them. When a plague came over, we all started to believe it." You paused, only to take a deep breath "My people fell like fleas, Viego. They would die in one or two days, with horrible symptoms, horrible deaths. Then, came the natural disasters and the hunger. There was no more rain, crops couldn't grow, earthquakes happened... the adults were dying faster and in bigger numbers than the children, and their sorrow was out of control. Their emotions, their fire was everywhere. I thought I knew magic old and strong enough to stop it, to control it, to at least console them."

You didn't realize how much faster you began to talk. Your hands had the slightest tremble to them, and you squeezed them tight. Without saying a word, the Ruined King reached forward and grasped one of your hand.  

Viego's skin was cold, nearly as cold as yours, but it was the act of touching you that surprised you, not the temperature of his flesh. His eyes were still bright and his face was still deep in thought, but he looked at you with confidence and fire, making you ache inside. The longer you stared at Viego's beautiful eyes, the more you saw the flame in him. The flame you once had. The flame you let burn out and turn into the cold of your empty heart.

"I didn't." You whispered "I didn't help them. That magic, that power was too much. There is not enough warmth in someone's heart to save an entire nation. Like a dying star I exploded, wiping so many of my people out... and the deathly cold spread from me afterwards."

You bit your tongue, and Viego squeezed your hand. He looked at you in wonder again, and it bares on unsettling to hold his gaze, so you looked at his white hair reflecting the bright fire lights, at the exposed skin of his flesh and the mist and shadows forever dancing around the hole in his chest.

That's a man you thought that knows what it means to put all your hope into something just to see it fall apart right before your eyes.

"Thank you for telling me, my Queen."

A wild thought crossed your head. His Queen was the dead queen, Isolde. You were not and would never be his Queen, and staring at his thin lips, you felt what could be sadness deep in your chest.

After that night, Viego didn't leave right away, and you didn't question him. You didn't realize how much you had missed company, company that wasn't frozen and puppets of ice. You showed Viego your current and mutated magic, something you have not been proud since it happened, but that you couldn't possibly not enjoy when he smiled as you showcase your strength. And Viego showed you how he controls the mist, and the spectres in them, and told you about people he knew, whose names are fleeting thoughts you soon forget. There was a Kalista, a Vladimir, someone called Thresh.

And he talked about Isolde sometimes, but it became rarer and rarer for him to say her name. It wasn't like his love and obsession were over, you knew, but you wanted to believe he found your company as enjoyable as the thought of his lover - or, though you didn't want to believe, he saw through your cold dead face exactly how much you enjoyed to have him around.

Which was strange per se, to enjoy something again. To wake up in the mornings and look forward to something, to have something swirling in your chest that wasn't anger or pure emptiness. Though that was dangerous, you knew; the thought of a possible second interest from Viego's part always in the back of your head, assuring your tone with him would never soften too much, your anger would never truly lay low. You didn't forget his comment on how your powerful could be decisive in his upcoming battle.

It was during a night not much different from the one you met, only several weeks apart, that the Ruined King opened up his hollow chest.

"You look so lovely tonight, my Queen." He smiled as you met for yet another evening of desserts and useless conversation. He stood in the balcony, clothes just a little bit more familiar to your land but not more modest.

You nodded, acknowledging the compliment but not giving him a reply, and Viego laughed. He had come to find amusement in your lack of reactions.

"May I ask" you said slowly "if there is a special occasion tonight that I'm not aware of?"

Viego smiled. He had asked you to meet him for tea at the balcony on his room (the room you allowed him to use, you reminded yourself) instead of the hall the tea was usually served. He was wearing nice clothes, and asked for you to do the same.

Despite not liking being told what to do, you were wearing your best dress.

"I think the time for me to leave has come."

Somehow, you knew that was it. You had a feeling deep in your gut, as you read books alongside him and exchanged tales and stories. And you always knew. You always knew Viego was going to leave, there was no reason for him to stay, no reason for him to abandon his mission, his journey, his Queen.

Even though you knew, you got angry. The frost started to spill from your fingertips to the tea-cup and railing they touched, quickly approaching Viegos hand, resting close to yours. He was still smiling, and with absolutely no fear, reached to grab your cold and currently freezing hand.

The frost stopped spreading and realizing that made you even angry.

"I like knowing that when I leave, you'll miss me." There was humor in his tone, and his fingers ran through the back of your hand. His eyes were shining particularly bright.

"My heart is incapable of such thing." You mumbled, staring right back at him. You wondered what Viego saw when he looked at your face. What with the way your eyes shone could possibly tell him when the only things you've been able to express for years were sorrow and anger.

He laughed, steeping forward. He was broader and taller than you, but you held your head high. You knew he was not trying to intimidate you, hadn't since he arrived and wouldn't start then, but the reflex was stronger than you. The instinct to fight and defend and respond was always at the back of your head, even if tended to be dormant around the Ruined King.

Viego was smiling when he lifted a finger to caress your chill cheek.  

To feel your heart drumming against your chest once again was a wonder.

"That's not true, is it my Queen?" Viego's voice was silk, coming out in a whisper that smelled of camomile and honey. His finger traced your cheekbone, ran down to your cupids brow and lower lip and the intake of breath you took was louder than necessary.

You were sure your cheeks were reddening, but you would have liked to tell yourself it was out of anger rather than bashfulness. Viego slouched his hand gingerly against your entire cheek when he gave one last step forward, getting his body as close to yours as possible without directly touching you.

You felt angry. You wanted his touch. You didn't want him near you. You were suspicious still. You were infatuated. You were delighted your heart was hammering again and not out of rage. You were so sad.

"My heart has no flame left, Viego." You whispered numbly, reaching up to hold his shirt where hip met waist. Your fingers clenched and frost climbed upon Viego's clothes, possibly freezing his skin.

He didn't seen to care. He kept looking at you, smile fading slowly until his stare was curious, strong, trusting. He kept looking at you for what felt like an eternity and you looked back, gaze jumping from different points on his face, trying to understand, trying to see.

"That's not true, Y/N." He repeated, emphatically, and leaned forward until his lips were touching yours delicately. You sighed, your cold breath forming mist in the air as frost touched his lips, but he didn't care.

Viego pulled you close until your bodies touched and he sighed against your mouth, like there was nothing more delightful to him than the freezing of his skin done from you. You took a deep breath form your nose, feeling the way your heart beat and your body heated up. There was no warmth inside of you that could light you ablaze anymore, but Viego was right. It wasn't true that there was no flame in your heart.

The goosebumps every time his skin brushed against your proved that.

He kissed you passionate, the frost eventually retreating back into yourself like a rewind of time. Viego held your cheek, carefully but confidently, and his mouth was the warmest thing you felt in years. His hands, then roaming down to your waist, were not far behind.

"I don't think" you whispered, when you parted to breath, though doubting Viego needed the breath "I am the only one being untrue. I am not your Queen, Viego." You tried not to sound bitter, tried to hold onto the good things trying to come alight again in your chest, but it was stronger than you. It was your nature.

The Ruined King seemed only partially irritated at your comment, but soon his furrowed brows gave place to a smile. Slowly, maybe wondering if you would accept the gesture, Viego kissed your cheek. Then the corner of your lips. Your eyelid, when you closed your eyes, and your nose.

"Let me show you, Y/N." His voice was low, and there was a smile to it. His hands were caressing your waist, waiting, but with just a tinge of impatient to it. "I'll show that you are my Queen. Let me worship you like the royalty you are." You opened your eyes, meeting Viego's fiery green ones. "Let me show you everything you deserve."

You had no reason to say no.

The next morning, Viego left without much ceremony from either part. His spectral mist followed him, and he disappeared in the clouds of darkness, looking behind only once, but still leaving you to your cold island and colder subjects.  

You felt less irritated or sad than you thought, and less numb than you imagined you would. Still, you kept your back straight, and your eyes looking ahead for much longer after he disappeared. You shed no tear, for even if was still so easy for you to cry, you wouldn't be the abandoned maiden, crying her despair alone in an ice castle.  

The wind picked up with your determination, snowflakes falling from the sky and frost spreading from the places you touched. Viego would come back to you, with or without his rightful queen. He would be back eventually, and the good thing about the cold is that it was unrelenting and patient.

[bacarasbabe]

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Female Jedi!Reader

Rating: E

Tags: semi public sex, piv sex, (Padme isn't in this universe bc that's the only way this would ever work), attachment issues lol

Summary: Anakin and Jedi!Reader relieve some tension together in the Jedi Archives

You share the same rank if not the same age. You're only two years older but the emotional gap feels significant. One of the reasons you've tried to avoid this situation in the first place, but his awkward charm that fantastically clashes with his charismatic determination pulls you in quicker than your Master does for meditation. "Just this once," you promise yourself more than warn Anakin as you try not to be caught between the shelves in the records hall. It's hard to get the words out between the kisses he keeps pressing to your lips. It toes a line that's dangerously too close to being romantic for your tastes. That's not what this is. That's not what this is allowed to be and he should know better. While both of you work on freeing just enough of yourselves from your jedi robes to make this exercise in stress relief and high tensions work, Anakin is boasting a sense of confidence through the force, a false bravado before you're half exposed to him and he instantly falters. It reminds you of a droid experiencing a short circuit in its processing unit the way he freezes. His brain is trying to calculate what he wants to do first when he really wants to do it all at once. But it doesn't matter because Anakin already has his cock pulled free. Achingly hard and beading precum at the swollen head, dripping down his knuckles. All he has to do is press you up against one of the shelving supports and slide inside. None of this is communicated verbally. You don't have that luxury since neither one if you could muster the patience to make it back to one of your private rooms. The ugly head of sexual tension decided to show up while both of you were assigned to help the Chief Librarian. So instead you guide him with gentle directions through the force to keep as quiet as possible. And stars– he can take direction well. Picking you up just right behind the thighs and using his growing strength, both physically and in the force, to lift you up and pin you against the shelf. His thrusts are sloppy, no real technique. Just furious speed as he moves his cock inside of you, gripping your hips to help leverage himself and bring you back closer. It doesn't matter because that's all you really needed from him. You don't even need to find a different place for him to spill his release because your implant is brand new. You can see the flush, splotchy red from exertion and embarrassment climbing his neck before painting his cheeks bright. He tries to kiss your lips again but now it really is touching that level of intimacy you're trying to avoid at all costs. So instead you yank at your top, exposing your chest to him. He either doesn't know what to do or didn't catch the hint. His hair is soft between your fingers as you run a hand to the base of his skull before gently gripping a handful and guiding him to you. His mind catches up and he latches on, licking and sucking and kissing. Kriff– were his lips always that soft? And maybe the idea of doing this again isn't so bad. Maybe he can use that mouth on you again. Just lower. Yeah, you think as Anakin sucks greedily on your other breast, teasing your pert nipple between his teeth, one more time couldn't hurt.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Scratching Post | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! This is like a smut-adjacent fic because I loved this idea but also I'm at work right now...lol

**Warning for marking**

As always, please send me any comments, suggestions, and/or requests! 🤗

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @emetophilily @breakablebarnes 💕

Find the sequel, “Stripes” here!

Warnings: teasing, marking (scratching), lil bit of blood, lil bit of Bucky Begging

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Bucky's focus didn't waver as you spoke, but he clearly wasn't paying attention to your words. No matter what you said, his gaze didn't falter.

"Yeah...and then I hooked up with Sam in the quinjet...me and Sam AND Nat, actually...we got it on. It was rough, too," you said, trying to get him to listen to anything you said-but no luck.

"JAMES!" you shouted, and he finally snapped out of his trance, his eyes dragging up to meet yours.

"Hey, woah- what's with the legal name?"

"Buck, I was talking to you and you were completely zoned out...you've literally been staring at my hands like a weirdo for almost a full five minutes," you told him. "I know I just got my nails done and they're a little longer than usual but helloooo! Focus!”

His cheeks reddened ever so slightly and he began to stumble over his words, "Oh-I, um, I just-"

"Barnes, get it together," you teased, "what is going on?"

He cleared his throat and shot you a sheepish smile before taking a deep breath and fessing up.

"I'm sorry, but I can't-I can't stop thinking about your nails," he murmured, "and what they'd feel like digging into my back..."

You took a sharp inhale, but the breath caught in your throat. This whole "will-they-won't-they" situation you'd had with Bucky for the past few months felt like it was now barreling towards "they-will".

"Oh, well… I've definitely never wondered what it would be like to drag them against your skin..." you teased, "It's never crossed my mind".

He could feel his chest tighten as you spoke, and finally after months of slow flirtation- he made his move. He strode over to the couch where you sat and leaned down, pressing a deep, needy kiss to your lips while he lifted you from the sofa. "I'm taking you upstairs- don't want Bruce walking through and Hulking out on us," he muttered.

You laughed against his skin as you pressed your lips to his neck, relishing in the feeling of his strong arms wrapped tightly around your body. Once in the elevator, Bucky began losing his restraint, biting down on your lower lip and making you gasp at the sharp sensation. The elevator doors opened and Bucky strode confidently down the hall with you in tow, throwing open his bedroom door and slamming it behind the two of you. He set you down on the bed and eagerly ripped off his shirt, dying for you to dig your nails into his skin.

You grabbed his arm and pulled him down toward you, hungry for his lips against yours. He hissed sharply into your mouth as you let your nails rake over his skin, pressing hard against his shoulders.

"Too much?" you asked between kisses.

"Not enough..."

With that, you doubled your efforts, sinking your sharp nails into his back and leaving deep, red crescent moons behind. You continued to work over his skin, scraping over his rib cage, eliciting a "Fuck, babe..." from his lips. You made your way up to his chest and scratched down his right arm, leaving red lines from his shoulder all the way down to his wrist.

"Harder," he nearly growled.

"Buck, I don't want to make you bleed..." you whispered, taking a brief pause.

"You won't- I'm a super soldier," he joked, "and even if you did...I wouldn't mind. Come on, baby, hurt me".

You obliged, gripping his shoulders with abandon as you felt his skin giving way beneath your sharp talons. He let a deep, dirty moan rumble out of his chest as he felt the sting, and nodded against your lips in approval.

"Hang on," you murmured as you pushed him off of you and down onto his back before straddling his hips. Staring down at him, you admired the red lines you'd left behind on his skin, and felt excitement at adding more. He was completely at your mercy, practically begging you to rip him apart, and you were happy to do so.

Teasingly, you let one sharp nail drag from his chest to the waistline of his jeans. His hips twitched under you slightly, and he couldn't contain the whiny moan that fell from his lips. You flashed a devilish grin at him before laying your hands flat against his collarbones and slowly curling each finger until your nails were pressed into his skin. His eyes screwed shut as you slowly yet firmly raked your nails from his clavicles to the bottom of his ribcage, making his hips thrust upward yet again.

Your left hand gripped his right bicep, digging into it without restraint as you pressed hard, messy kisses against his lips. You let your right hand lightly stroke his chest, teasing him mercilessly until giving him what he wanted. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as you finally scratched his chest, digging in as hard as you could-just the way he liked it.