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undressrehearsal · 5 months ago

Text

right back where we started

summary: ellie is on tour as the opener for a popular band. she begrudgingly passes through the hometown that she had sworn she would never see again and runs into the one good thing she left behind.

tags: some sad stuff, ellie has daddy issues, mentions of alcohol, modern au, not rockstar ellie but that same kinda genre???, no smut in this one sorry this is all setting the scene, this is another shorter one 3.6k words

a/n: listen. I'm gonna level with yall. life's been fucking insane. it's been what 3 months since I posted something?? and it's because 1. my fiancée and I are buying a house 2. and planning a wedding 3. I work 45 hour weeks (at a job I hate so much omg) 4. I'm writing a book and 5. I'm preparing for a p major surgery (I go on tuesday)

so yeah, life's been insane. but I missed writing fics. I'm writing my book so I never stopped writing but writing a lil fun fic just hits different yk?

anyway enjoy and look forward to a few (I'm thinking 3?) parts of this

love yall. reply and lmk if you wanna be added to my tag list. also I'm posting this on my phone so the formatting might be fucked lmk

part 1

Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she had been in this city.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could remember exactly the last time she had been in this city. She had watched it disappear in her mirror when she had driven her bike west three years ago in search of the horizon. She had hoped she would find something more once she got there - more than the dingy dorm room she had loosely called home and the classes that had made her eyes glaze over; something more than playing at the bar’s open mic nights, her guitar hard to hear over the noisy din of drunk students and drunker professors; something more than a future that had been planned for her by the time she was in high school.

Her dad had kicked her out after she dropped out, of course, but that was fine. She had planned to leave that night anyway; she had kept a packed bag hidden underneath her bed for months. She hadn’t seen him in three years, either, and she planned to keep it that way.

But when she woke up and saw the city outside the bus window, silhouetted against the rising sun, something in her chest rose to her throat and refused to be swallowed back down.

She hadn’t missed it - but as she looked down at her shaking hands, Ellie figured her body must not have gotten that memo.

The band she was traveling with were still sleeping; she could hear the singer snoring in her bunk, could see the bassist's leg sticking out into the aisle. She had never been a morning bird - back at her shitbox apartment, you'd rarely catch her up before noon - but something about being stuck on a bus for days made her restless. It was her first time touring - after three years of playing at open mics and taking small jobs singing at the senior center - and she wasn't used to feeling her own bed constantly shifting beneath her.

Which is how she always ended up pacing the length of the bus, tapping her fingers against her thighs as the confined world around her slept, waiting desperately for the driver to pull off to whatever venue they had booked. She wasn't sure what the band did before their shows in the evenings, but she didn't stick around long enough to ask. Maybe it was rude, but she couldn't force herself to hang out with the band who only chose her because their usual opener had “flaked” on them - which was how they described it when the opener couldn't travel with them for several months after their mother had just died.

So, yeah, Ellie couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad about it when she rushed off the bus as soon as it parked, not even sticking around to let the band know where she was going. They wouldn't care either way. Hell, they were probably so hungover they wouldn't wake up until their show started in several hours.

The driver - his name was Zachary (never Zach) and he was the only one who paid her any mind - helped Ellie hoist her bike down from the rack on the back of the bus. The band had teased her about bringing it, bitching about how it showed she didn't want to hang out with them. She had been tempted to tell them they were right, but she couldn't really risk losing the first real gig she’d gotten. She lifted the seat and dug her helmet out, waving to Zachary as he disappeared back into the bus to get his own well-deserved rest.

The purr of the bike was a familiar comfort beneath her. Lowering the visor of her helmet to block out the sun, she squinted at the streets sprawled before her. She realized, with dizzying familiarity, that she was in the next neighborhood over from her old apartment. Hell, she had watched a few shows at the venue she was playing at - something in her stomach clenched.

Fuck, she needed coffee.

With the wind cold against her bare arms, Ellie let the world fly by, the city waking up around her. Her phone remained snuggly in her bag; she didn't need directions here, the familiar streets leading her down well-worn paths, winding all the way back to a life that was no longer hers.

It was muscle memory that led her back to the coffee shop she had frequented as a student. She looked up at it, a glow around its worn brick from the rising sun, and something tightened in her chest. They had replaced the patio chairs - the old ones had been practically falling apart three years ago - but otherwise it hadn't changed.

Ellie cursed under her breath, swallowing around the foreign lump in her throat, and climbed off her bike. When she took the steps two at a time, it felt like somebody else had taken the wheel. It was a familiar stranger that opened the door.

The smell hit her first. They say that scent has the strongest tie to memory, and the smell of burnt coffee beans hit her like a punch. There had always been a sweetness underneath it, something she had never been able to place but thought might be honey? When she stepped up to the counter, she could even smell the milk they were steaming.

The barista - a young girl with faded pink hair tied up into space buns - looked up from her phone and said, in a voice teetering on the edge between cheerful and bored, “How’s it going?”

Ellie took her in briefly, noting the brown corduroy overalls and the star-shaped nose ring, and was comforted knowing that this place was just as queer as she had left it. She would bet money on the fact that if she peeked over the counter, this girl would be wearing beat up Docs. She was young enough to be a student - probably an English major, if she had to guess.

She always ordered the same thing - iced mocha with oat milk. She had never understood why her dad drank his coffee black.

The barista - her tag said Dianna She/Her/Hers - eyed her as she rang Ellie up, brows quirked. When she smiled, dimples caved her cheeks. ��I haven’t seen you around before. Are you a student?”

Ellie fought the urge to groan - this girl was just trying to be friendly (and was probably trying to decide if Ellie’s flannel meant she was gay or was just a bad fashion choice), but the last thing she wanted to do after failing to sleep on a bus and waking up at the ass-crack of dawn was to make small talk.

Still, she smiled and said, “I used to be.”

She paid and stuffed the remainder of her cash into the tip jar. When Dianna thanked her, her cheeks were as pink as her hair. Ellie could feel her eyes lingering on her as she walked away, nodding awkwardly in thanks.

This place really hadn’t changed in three years. The coffee shop had a reputation of students writing all along the walls - over a decade ago, they had simply stopped trying to paint over it, so the walls were littered in signatures and drawings and claims of call this number for a good time. Scattered poetry was written along the edges of the windows, an incredibly detailed Sharpie drawing of a cat peeking over the top of the doorway. When she searched for it, she found that her own scrawled handwriting was still there, small letters where nobody would think to look, right underneath the thermostat: Find me where the sun sets east. Don’t forget me.

She swallowed the lump that threatened to choke her and stepped away. Her eyes stung from sleep deprivation and nothing more.

Ellie scanned the room and found that, to her annoyance, nearly every table was taken. Students huddled around notebooks and laptops, engrossed in their work or else on Netflix to avoid studying. Professors blinked wearily, clutching their own cups of coffee as though they were lifelines holding them to this realm. Ellie could see the spot she had frequented herself - a booth tucked by the window, where she could write her songs in a dingy notebook without anyone looking over her shoulder.

Now, there was a guy with his cheek pressed to the cold surface, snoring lightly.

Ellie jumped when Dianna called her name, holding out a cup so filled with coffee that it trickled over the side and down the glass. Ellie took it gingerly, holding it in careful fingers to not spill any more on the countertop.

Dianna held onto the cup for several seconds longer than necessary, her fingers - cold from the glass - lingering on Ellie's. When a crooked smile pulled at her lips, her brown eyes sparkled. There was a teasing tilt to her voice when she said, “I hope to see you around, Ellie.”

Ellie gave her what she hoped was a friendly smile - judging by the way Dianna’s cheeks bloomed pink, she must have succeeded - before turning away. She almost felt guilty for the relief she felt when she found there was no phone number left on her glass this time. She was never sure whether it was nicer to ghost somebody or to send a gentle rejection through text, and she did not have the energy for that decision.

She turned, searching for an empty seat to slouch in and try not to fall asleep into her coffee, when her eyes found you.

You hadn’t changed a bit.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true either. You had changed - anybody would in three years. You had changed your hair, and now you dressed differently than she remembered - you used to bitch so much about how you couldn’t dress how you wanted, and now, looking at you three years later, she was happy to see that you were finally dressing like all those pictures you had saved in your little Pinterest folder of “outfit inspo.”

Ellie could see the mark of three whole years, but truthfully, you hadn’t changed. You were slouched over a laptop, leaning way too close to the screen, and you still had that pinch between your brows when you concentrated, the one that she used to run her thumb over; she could still feel how soft your skin was beneath her fingers.

She should have ignored you - she should have gone to slump in a corner of the coffee shop like she had planned, trying not to fall asleep into her cup and pretending to not notice you even as her eyes kept cutting across the cafe to find you again. She should have pushed the memories away just like she had pushed away all of the other memories associated with this city - hell, she should have never come back to this city in the first place. There were too many memories here that she had spent three years, a thousand miles, and an ocean of whiskey running away from.

And yet Ellie found her feet carrying her over to your table of their own volition. She walked the tightrope between who she is and who she once was, chasing a memory of the only good thing she left behind.

You didn’t look up at her as she approached. You kept your head bowed over your laptop, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. There was no reason for you to look up - Ellie could have been any nameless stranger coming to bother you when you were clearly just trying to work.

But Ellie had never been good at leaving well enough alone. Which is why she hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and tapping lightly on your shoulder. She had to bite back a laugh when you jumped, pulling your headphones from your ears and swiveling around to look up at her.

She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t do an embarrassing acrobatic jump when you met her eyes. And she had always been a terrible liar.

“Hey,” Ellie said, trying her damnedest to keep her voice steady; she only somewhat succeeded. She cleared her throat, lowering her voice when she said, “Remember me?”

Satisfaction bloomed warm in her stomach when your eyes widened, taking in the sight of her. Truthfully, she must’ve looked like shit; she had had to take a disturbingly brief shower at the last rest stop - the water apparently didn’t get any warmer than antarctic - and she hadn’t looked in a mirror for a few days. She had forgotten to pack her brush, so her hair must have been standing up at odd angles. And God knew what the lack of sleep was doing to the ever-growing shadows under her eyes.

But none of this stopped you from running your eyes down her body, cheeks pink when you finally looked up to meet her eyes again. And Ellie couldn’t stop the slow smile that spread across her face, her own cheeks growing warm. It wasn’t intentional when her voice dropped another octave, nearly a murmur when she said, mostly to herself, “Yeah, you remember me.”

“Holy shit, Ellie?” You jumped to your feet, a smile pulling at your lips as you gripped her arm. The familiar shine in your eyes did something funny to her stomach that she was way too stubborn to name. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I was just, uh- just passing through town,” she found herself saying, rubbing at the back of her neck. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but explaining to you the actual reason she finally came back to this hell-hole town suddenly seemed daunting. “Wanted to check out some old haunts, I guess.”

And then you just… looked at her, for several long moments - long enough to make Ellie squirm. Your eyes bore into hers, searching for something that she had buried three years ago.

You jumped, and whatever spell that was floating between you broke when your phone buzzed from where it still sat on the table. You scooped it up and flashed an apologetic smile to the glaring student a few seats away. Swiping at the screen, you cursed under your breath:

“Fuck, I have to get to class.” You looked back up at her again, a question behind your eyes, and Ellie had never wished so hard that she could read minds. You hesitated for only a moment before saying, words rushed, “Do you want to walk with me?” Before Ellie could respond, you continued, picking up your cup and fiddling with the straw, “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you and I want to catch up. But you’re probably busy, so you don’t have to-”

“I’d love to,” she cut you off, trying to smother the smile that pulled at her pink cheeks. She failed drastically when you smiled back at her.

After asking for a to-go cup from Dianna - thankfully no number written on the plastic cup either, despite the way the barista eyed Ellie as she left - she followed you out the door and back into the blinding morning sun. The mid-October air bit at her cheeks, creeping under her flannel; the cold coffee in her hand made her fingers sting, but you were already walking away, so she grit her teeth and followed.

And it was like you both just fell back into place, aligning with each other as though that empty space had never existed. You were working towards your graduate degree, Ellie discovered, and were working as a TA to get through; the class you were heading to was the dreaded public speaking class that you taught around your own curriculum. You laughed as you talked about some ridiculous speech a student had recently presented, and Ellie had forgotten just how much she liked the sound until it was burying behind her ribs again.

Ellie didn't tell you exactly why she had come back. When she’d left, you had known she was chasing a dream - it was the main reason she had presented when she broke up with you. The idea of long distance was too hard - too complicated - and Ellie didn’t want anything tying her to this town.

Even so, her body still wanted to fall into old habits. She told you about her roommate and how, when Ellie had been up too late writing a new song or her roommate had had a late shift at the hospital, they would play truth or dare until they were too drunk to stay awake, and her fingers brushed against yours, muscle memory making her reach for you. Ellie told you how she had visited her sister, Sarah, while passing through Houston, and she wanted so badly to lace your fingers together. She wanted to wrap her arm around your waist - hell, she even wanted to grab your ass right where everyone could see, just like she used to. She tucked her free hand in her pocket.

“You still haven’t told me why you came back,” you said, coming to a stop in front of the Communications building - it was just as tall and ominous as Ellie remembered. Her stomach lurched at the site, remembering all the speeches she had to make in her own classes. She supposed Public Speaking wasn’t a useless class now, considering she didn't stutter when she had to speak in front of an audience now.

Ellie shrugged, dropping her cup into a trashcan without looking at you. “Like I said, I’m just passing through-”

“Bullshit,” you said, but there was no malice behind it. You tilted your head to meet her eyes and smiled at her, even as your eyes held something unreadable. “The Ellie I knew couldn’t wait to get out of this shithole - her words, not mine. She wouldn’t simply pass through - she would go out of her way to stay in the next town over. So,” you crossed your arms, “what changed?”

Before, if you had ever crossed your arms at her, Ellie would reach out and gently pull your arms away from your chest, pulling you into an embrace. She wanted nothing more than to pull you into her, instinct unaware of the three years and a thousand miles that had separated you. Instead, she leaned against the wall of the building, the brick biting into her back. “Nothing’s changed. Trust me, if it was up to me, I wouldn't be here.”

For only a second, your face twisted into something unreadable that pulled at Ellie's stomach. But you quickly schooled your expression, tilting your head, your smile soft. “Listen, I have to go - if I'm too late, these fuckers are just gonna try to skip. But we should meet up later - I want to catch up.” When Ellie opened her mouth to say you had been catching up, you continued, “Really catch up. I want you to tell me everything - it's been years, so we have a lot to cover.” You looked at your phone and cursed. “Look, my last class ends at 3:25. Meet me on the green after?” For good measure, you stuck out your bottom lip and added, “Please?”

Ellie had never been good at resisting that look - she had given into you so many times from that look alone. She had to bite back the sudden, stupid smile pulling at her cheeks, so she pressed her lips together and looked away. After three years, you still made her cheeks flush without trying.

“Okay,” was all she could say.

Without warning, you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around her neck briefly. Her hands hovered at your sides, unsure of where to go. Feeling your body pressed against her again - feeling the warm brush of your breath against her neck - short-circuited her brain, leaving her gasping on dry land.

Before she could figure out where to put her fucking hands, you murmured in her ear, “I really did miss you, Els,” and pulled away, just as quickly as you had come. Ellie's mouth hadn't even caught up to her brain by the time you were gone, the door closing softly behind you.

Later, after she had had a proper breakfast from McDonald's, she was still thinking about you. Seeing you again had opened up a bottle that she had sealed away, and the cork wouldn't fit back into it. Her fingers itched with the memory of your skin beneath them. When you had hugged her, she had smelled the shampoo that you apparently still used, and she remembered how it had felt to have your head on her chest, breathing you in as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. And your lips next to her ear - that opened a whole subcategory of memories that she tried desperately to push away.

She was only here for the night. She lost count of how many times she had to remind herself.

Ellie was stopped at a red light, leaning her bike from one foot to the other, when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced at the blinking crosswalk sign - twenty seconds, so she still had plenty of time before the light turned green - before fishing her phone out. She had to squint against the sun, straining to make out the screen. She nearly dropped the phone when she saw the familiar name popping up on her screen, fumbling to open the text.

There was a screenshot of an Instagram post from the venue she was going to play at. The band's name was in bold letters, stars pasted around a grainy picture of the group. And in small letters underneath - like an afterthought - was her name: Ellie Miller.

And underneath, in all caps:

YOU'RE PLAYING AT THE HAWTHORNE?????

Her face flushed all over again. After all these years, you had still kept her number.

tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie tlou2 #ellie the last of us 2 #ellie miller #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #ill have to add this to my masterlist when i get back to my computer in a few days

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lorsdelapluie · 5 months ago

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The doctor's diary.

Pairing: sylus x female reader

Genre: Dark shit going on. Including smut. Please read the content warning.

Word count: 4000+ words.

Content warning: mdni, explicit sexual content (but its chill for now), spoiler warning, mention of human experimentation, cult activities, my own twisted thoughts and theories are literally making this way darker than LADS already is. An oc of mine will appear more often in the next chapters, hate him guys, he is not a good guy. English is not my first language sorry for any mistakes.

Note: This chapter ended up longer than I expected somehow. And it is the first one of a three chapter fanfiction. I tend to write nasty stuff, sex wise but also everything else wise so please be prepared for anything literally. The character Castiel that you will meet in this chapter is my own oc that I made up specially for the LADS universe. I hope you will enjoy to hate him.

Chapter 1:

“You want me to go in the N109 zone ? I thought we weren’t allowed to go th-”

“We are aware you have been going back and forth between Linkon city and the N109 Zone.”

You pinched your lips at the words coming from Jenna’s mouth, your hand resting on your hunter’s watch. The times you forgot to turn off your watch comes back to light one by one in your mind. Brushing it off everytime you thought that the HQ wouldn't have the time to check on your status. Her arms were still crossed over her chest as she looked at you straight in the face with her dark gray eyes. You felt like a kid underneath this disappointed glare. You opened your lips to say something, to defend yourself but she raised her hand to stop you from doing so.

“However, you have mainly been doing this outside your working hours. So it is your private life, and you may keep it a secret if you wish. But since you have been going there multiple times, we figured you might be aware of what is going on there better than we do.” She sighed. You guessed that she wasn't the one behind this idea. Maybe some higher ups that you never had the opportunity to meet.

“So this is why we thought you might be the best suited agent for this mission.”

“Oh uhm… Thank you for entrusting me.”

“Despite this little disagreement, I am aware that you are one of our best agents. However if you think you might need help, you can still ask Xavier to accompany you. Although he has been quite busy lately.”

“No no no ! Do not bother Xavier for this. I am more than capable of handling missions on my own. As for the mission… Can I ask you what is it that I am meant to do ?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t let you go into the Lions’ den without information.” She said as she slid her hand on her desk, taking a handful of documents stored inside a pocket and handing them to you. “We need you to participate in an auction for charity.”

“For charity…” you mumbled. You never thought you would see the day of a charity auction being held in the a zone so… uncharitable. You start looking through the papers in your hand, brows furrowed in confusion.

“We are as surprised as you look. As nice as the thoughts around this event are, we are particularly interested in one of the prizes that we wish you would purchase for us.”

Your eyes land on the auction picture of a diary, its cover is made of leather and the pages look old, teared up for some of them. “A diary ?”

“This diary seemingly belonged to one of the most wanted people of our organization. A doctor who previously worked here, in Linkon city, and got too deep in his interest for protocores and their links with people’s evol.”

“He experimented on humans…” you mumbled as you read the notes next to the picture that the intel team had written for you. "On children..."

“He indeed did. And we would like to prevent this diary from falling into the wrong hands. This is where your part comes in. Buying this diary away from that zone.”

You nodded as you guessed the objective of your mission long before she started explaining the reason why they would go fetch that book in the first place. Plus, that diary might bring you answers you are seeking about yourself. And as you remember your partner's jewel like gaze, about Sylus too. You then raised yours towards Jenna, closing the file between your hands and straightening your back.

“If you will allow me. I’m going to do the best I can to fulfill this mission.”

“I know you will. The auction is in three days. I hope it gives you enough time to gather any belongings and travel to a safe place in the N109 zone… If such a place exists.”

“Do not worry about me. I will be safe.”

You smile as Jenna raises her hand slowly with a peaceful expression as she dismisses you from her office. You exit the room, slowly closing the door behind you before walking to your desk, gathering your laptop and phone on the furniture. You then put the file inside your bag as you were already leaving the building. You would take the time to analyze everything once you were safely in the N109 Zone.

Phone in hand you immediately texted Xavier to let him know that you were leaving for a mission in the outskirts of your beloved city. As your thumbs were patting the screen of your phone, it suddenly started to vibrate. Soon enough the icon of Sylus appeared on your phone, a silly picture of him you took when he dozed off while watching a musical a few weeks prior. You frowned at the VERY convenient timing that he always had and picked up, raising your phone to your ear.

“Yes ?”

“The twins are going to pick you up at 5 this afternoon. Will you have enough time to be prepared before then?”

“Don’t tell me you hacked Jenna’s computer again. How many times do I have to tell you to not do that?” You frowned, faking or maybe wanting to be angry about that breach of your private life once again.

“There is no need to get angry at me. Be angry at the twins all you want though. They are the ones who insisted on checking up on you while I was away.”

“How do they even know how to hack-” you stopped in your tracks as you heard your voice the sound of a bike motor in the background of the call. “Are you calling me while driving ?”

“Now this is a reason you can get mad at me for.” he chuckles as you let out a frustrated sound. “Do not worry, sweetie, I have my helmet on. Just checking on you through earbuds.”

“Unsafe still. Your attention should be fully on the road.” you finally started walking towards the road that leads to your apartment, going through the usual route that takes you near along a river. “I thought you said you would be the one picking me up after Luke nearly got us in a car crash last time.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. But I do have some work meetings that need to be attended to." After a moment of quiet, he continued. “I trust Kieran will be the one driving you three back at home. I will be back before dinner.”

“Fine. Be careful on your way to your meet up… I will see you later.” you could hear a chuckle, and the picture of Sylus’ grin appeared in your mind. Before he could answer, you hung up.

You sighed as you crossed the street, pushing the door of your building entrance after entering the password on the door’s pad. Slowly you slid the phone inside your bag, totally forgetting about warning your colleague, and your friends, of the mission that will probably won’t let you have time for chit chat. Once you are inside your place, you quickly pull out a bag from the closet in the entrance, walking towards your bedroom to pack your essentials for the next few days.

An hour flew by without you realizing it before your phone rang. Luke. As you picked up you hear his cheerful voice coming from outside your building, you walked towards your opened window staring down.

“Miss ! Your carriage is waiting for you !” the masked man yells waving at you from below, catching glances from other people passing by.

“Get inside the car ! Can’t you see people are staring at you Luke ?” you frowned shooing him away with your hand.

“Heeeh. I’m hurt ! Are you embarrassed by me perhaps ?” You wondered if Sylus teasing was coming from spending too much time with them or the other way round.

You frowned not wanting to let your mind wander at that thought, hanging up and closing the window before picking your bag on your bed and leaving your apartment. Once downstairs you were greeted with no one but the black car with tinted windows that was just in front of the house, without giving it much thoughts you walked to the back of the car and climbed inside.

After exchanging proper greetings with the twins, and a short trip from Linkon city to the twins’ boss base.

It was night time now and you were settled down in one of Sylus couch in his apartments. You were going through the file once more, eyeing the clock in front of you from time to time. The meal was soon to be put down in the living room and you were definitely imagining eating alone at this rate. You sighed as you let your head roll on one of the sides of the couch, closing your eyes as you let yourself drift to the sound of the gramophone playing the music you put on earlier.

“Are you asleep ?” a whisper came above the sound of the music as a finger brushed against your cheek.

Your eyes opened and you looked up to the figure towering over you. Sylus gazed at you as he was leaning with one hand on the couch watching you slowly wake up from your nap. You slowly straight up, your files sliding from your chest and before you could react, Sylus caught it and put it down on the table next to you.

“Mmm no.”

“Sure you weren’t.” he smiled as he sat on the carpet next to the couch. “Don’t move.”

“But the dinner…” you mumbled still drowsy.

“Dinner is cold by now. I was late and you fell asleep. We are in no hurry anymore.” he says as he takes off his jacket, putting it down on the chair behind him, soon followed by his gloves. You sighed knowing that the man next you wouldn't budge.

“How did your meeting go ?” you asked as you traced every of his movements with your gaze.

“Productive. But a waste of time at the same time. We wasted 2 hours waiting for someone who never came. I honestly thought I was going to come back really early.”

“Would have been better…” you muttered.

Sylus' head turned to look at you with that same grin of his when he catches you being off guard. “Missing me I see.”

“Whatever.”

“I missed you too, sweetie.” he muttered as his face was now a few inches away from your face. And as always Sylus was the one to close that distance, his teeth started nibbling gently on your lower lip as he kissed you. His right hand comes to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "I missed you a lot."

There was always this conflict inside of you when you felt the lips of Sylus on yours. A shyness that you wished you didn’t have, pushing you to turn your face away. However the drumming of your heart everytime his lips were on yours made you feel safe. Safe and cared for. The man suddenly started pushing his tongue against your lips, deepening the kiss drawing a sound from you in a sigh.

“Knowing that you were waiting for me here. Probably lying down on that bed or on that couch…” he muttered as he kissed your lips once again then your cheek and the back of your ear. “I wished I could have just left to join you here quicker.”

“You are… so dirty Sylus.” you whispered as you felt his hand slide on your shirt to start unbuttoning it. When Sylus admitted his excitement for you it always made you shiver. Not that it was rare for him to be so blunt. But being wanted and knowing that he was thinking of you that way, in places where he shouldn’t. God, he was the devil in person and he loved playing with his favorite person.

“If you want to blame me for the tension rising in this room. Feel free to do so…” he said, lips leaving a trailing of kisses from your neck towards your chest. “I would enjoy that.”

Soon his lips were not the only thing on your skin, his tongue traveled against you with wet kisses. Teeth sometimes nibble on you, trying to mark you as his. However he knew better than to do that or he would have been met with a warning look. Instead his hand slides away the remaining of your top clothes, revealing your skin to his red eyes ravishing each corner of your body, everytime.

“Your skin is covered in goosebumps. Are you getting worked up sweetie ?” he says smiling, his lips resting against your chest. A thumb sliding against one of your nipples. “I bet that if I slide my hand in your pants, I might find it dripping with excitement.”

“You are too sure of yourself.” you said trying to keep your voice steady as his lips brushed against your other nipple.

A low chuckle vibrates through his body at your answer. “Always so feisty, kitten.” he murmured, pinching with two of his fingers the nipple he had in his hand.

“Then… Shall we take a look ?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you closed your legs, preventing his hand from sliding under your pants and between your thighs. His hand stopped mid-way, resting against your lower body. He slowly quirked up his face, arching a brow with a smile.

“Getting shy ?” he asks, fingers fondling with the zipper of your pants. He soon pulled it down. “You know I don’t particularly enjoy you playing shy. I’d rather have my feisty kitten biting and fighting me than hiding away.”

Asshole you thought.

“Should I take out the ropes like last time ? Pull your legs apart ? I thought you learnt how to behave.” he said with a smile. “Or did you enjoy this so much that you want to try again ?”

Losing control from time to time was nice. But not tonight, you needed the contrary. You need to feel in control of your body. The next few days were gonna be stressful. One of your hands dared to come rest on his cheek as your legs opened against his hand.

“Good girl..” he said, his lips coming to nuzzle against your hand. And as usual when a kiss comes first teeth soon follow. His fingers able to slide under your pants and underwear come to slide in between your folds feeling the wetness of yourself under his burning gaze.

“Just as I thought.” he smiles as one of his fingers pushes inside you and you answer with a moan. His lips nibbling on the flesh of your palm, eyelashes brushing against your fingers as he starts going back and forth with his fingers inside of you.

Your head resting against the pillow of the couch, eyes closing as another moan came from between your lips as he pushed another finger inside of you. The fingers of your hand slowly extended to grasp onto strands of the man’s hair, while the other came gripping on the back of the couch.

“That’s it. Let yourself go, kitten.” A growl soon followed when you tug at his hair when his thumb rested against your clit making small circles as he never stopped pumping his fingers in and out of you.

You arched your back, the stimulation of his fingers rubbing against that one G spot inside of you and his thumb massaging your clit made you see stars. You tug on his hair once again in another sound, coming under his watchful gaze.

“Sylus…”

“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m always here.” he answered, coming to put a kiss on your forehead.

Once he pulls his fingers out of you, he slides a hand under you to carry you against him. You look up at him, arms sliding around his neck to secure yourself.

“And you ?”

“Oh ? Are you asking for more, sweetie ?”” he chuckles as you frown at him. His lips slowly come against your own to kiss you once more. “This is what I wanted. Nothing more for tonight. But I can not promise you anything just like this for tomorrow.” A devilish smile spreads on his lips.

“Did you have a shower already ?”

“I did… Earlier.” you answered as you rested your head against his shoulder. “What about food ?”

“You are hungry aren’t you.” He said as he settled you down on the bed. “Tell you what. I will come bring you some food and you can enjoy some while I take a shower. Sounds good ?”

“Sounds good. I will try to not eat everything.” You smile.

And just like that three days passed. Now you were standing in front of the door, arms crossed on your chest and Sylus blocking your way with his hands on his hips.

“I will not change my mind Sylus. I need to attend this auction alone.”

“What if I’d like to be charitable tonight?”

You scoff. “Please. You just want to keep your eyes on me.”

“I want to make sure you are safe and sound.”

“And I told you I can defend myself. If the HQ knows that I am attending an official mission with the boss of Onychinus, I could get in trouble. Because they will keep an eye on me ! Just like you do.”

Sylus sighs. You could be so stubborn. He slowly raised his hand to pinch his nose’s bridge. “Take Mephisto with you at least. He could help you in any case of an emergency.”

“That noisy little…” you were met by a glare that was telling you to not push your luck so you resigned. “Okay.”

“Good.” As soon as you agreed to his terms, he snapped his fingers and Mephisto almost appeared on your shoulder. Resting his claws against the fabric of your dress. “I will drive you there. And I will be there again to pick you up soon after Mephisto lets me know the auction has ended. Understood ?”

“Yes mom.”

He chuckles before pushing the door open, letting you leave the safe base first to get to the car parked in front of the entrance. He soon followed and got inside the car to start driving across the dark streets of the N109 Zone. Mephisto was awfully quiet, head turning around at each corner, as if the bird was already on a mission analyzing what was around him. You stared mindlessly at the street lamps barely shining some cold light on the pavement beneath them as you fondle with your bag between your fingers.

You were stressed. Stressed to not be able to bring back that diary. What if you came back in Linkon city with nothing to offer but the news that another potential monster had this fucking diary between their hands. How many children would have to suffer from experiments and be kept in the dark before they all stopped ? Without realizing it, you started clenching on your accessory. And the hand of Sylus left the gearbox to come rest on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you.

“Do not be anxious. People coming to those kinds of fake charity auctions hunt down people like you. Nice face, seemingly weak and rich.” he said. “Mephisto is a sign that you are under my watch but he can’t dissuade them from doing anything if they are crazy enough to try.”

“So I need to appear confident…”

“Exactly. I know you can do it. After all, you showed me your acting skills more than once.” he pressed his thumb against your thigh as he kept looking at the road in front of you. “I’m not here physically but Mephisto is my eyes. And I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I know.” you sighed before taking another deep breath. It will be okay, you thought, Sylus is right. You had to have faith in yourself and in him. It will go by so quickly, you won’t even realize it.

The car slows down and you are now parked in front of an immense building, maybe even taller than some of Sylus’s ones. You look up from your seat as Mephisto mimics you. “Where are we ?”

“The place of the auction. The HQ of the Eurydike cult. Weird bunch of fuckers.”

You hummed before pushing the door open, before closing it you looked at your partner flashing him a smile. “I will be back.” He softly smiles back waving, asking you to be careful once more. And you closed the door, walking towards the entrance of the building, taking out the invitation out of your bag to show the bodyguards that you were allowed to enter the place.

As soon as you stepped foot inside, you were faced with a display of wealthiness and laughter coming from every corner of the giant hall. You were taken aback, thinking for a second that the only man you thought was this wealthy in the N109 Zone was Sylus. The hall was made of black marble with golden cracks, contrasted by high white walls that reflected the light of the candlesticks. Hanging banners here and there with an unknown insignia, and false plants hanging in green. You looked around, looking for a sign indicating the location of the meeting. But unfortunately the place was badly indicated, this auction was probably a place of regulars. However you spotted some people whispering about getting their place already to get closer to the stage, and you figured it would be the best idea to follow them around. Which you did. Everyone here was accompanied, and you were alone. Well accompanied but by a bird that started to get agitated. The sound of your heels against the marble under your steps was ringing in your mind. You stopped near a waiter, grabbing a glass of champagne. You needed to relax, you needed to look like you belonged here. Alcohol might help you settle down.

So you went to sit at the first row, crossing your legs as Mephisto left your shoulder to take place on the chandelier hanging above your head. You could see some of the objects being displayed on the stage in front of you. Vases, stuffed animals, jewelry and… Wait. Was that one of Raphayel’s painting ? You frowned while taking your phone out of your purse to take a picture. Before you could press the button, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You flinched, turning around. “Miss. Sorry to bother you but you are not allowed to take pictures in this room.” A man with green eyes gazed upon you. He was tall, his hair and lashes almost hiding the gaze that you could feel burning on your face. His face did not seem upset, nor angry. Good… The last thing you needed was to attract angry people.

You smiled. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that painting would interest my husband before I start bidding on it.”

“Oh ?” He looked up at the stage staring at the painting of the seashore painted with different shades of blue and orange, with the silhouette of a faceless woman dipping her feet in the water. “Hm. It is indeed a wonderful painting. From a very famous painter from Linkon City. Although it is one of his earliest works.”

“Are you familiar with this painter ?” you asked, interested in the knowledge of the person in front of you. To faint uninterest you slowly raise your glass to your lips looking away from the man.

“Familiar would not be right. We are acquaintances.” He then looks down at you smiling as he circles around the chair to finally sit next to you. “Although we haven’t seen each other for many years.”

“I see.” you nodded looking at that man dressed in white, your eyes landing on the cross shaped brooch on his tie. You swore you have seen this insignia somewhere. “And you are ?”

“Shh little miss. It’s starting soon. We will have all the leisure to chit chat after that auction is done.”

The auction began, and you drank the rest of your drink before waving to a waiter to come and get rid of you. Under your seat as under that of all the other participants was a small booklet with the passage numbers of each work or object. The one you were looking for was in last place. A sigh escaped from your lips as the first sums of money were thrown out of control.

Beside you, still stood this same man, his left leg crossed above the right and his hands clasped on his knees, looking at the scene with a satisfied smile. With the light down, you took the time to linger on her face. He had it very hard, like a man who had to face situations that those of Linkon city did not have to face. But this sweet smile on his lips came in contrast with the portrait that could be made of him. You wondered if Sylus knew the man. You slowly raised your head to look towards Mephisto who was looking straight at you under his watchful red eyes. Just like his master.

An hour and half passed, and you were starting to get numb to all the money that was being spent. The man next to you also did spend some money. He bought the painting you were eyeing earlier. And then came the mention of the diary.

As soon as you could, you raised your hand to bid. With a glimpse of mischievousness, the man next to you raised his hand. Followed by some other people in the room. After nearly a minute of bidding, you raised your hand again.

“Please stop playing sir. My husband is rather interested in this diary.” you muttered to the man next to you. “Stick to your paintings.”

A suppressed laugh came as an answer as your bid was registered as a final answer. The hand of the man next to you extended towards you as the lights turned on. “It’s a pleasure to be doing business with you, little miss.”

You frowned looking at the man’s gaze. “Business ?”

“I am the owner of this building and the organizer of this auction. My name is Castiel, pleasure meeting you.”

You gasped as you came to shake his hand. Dear god, why did you have to talk like that to the man who setted up a charity auction. This is why his brooch reminded you of something, it was literally plastered in the hall.

“I am very sorry for my-”

“No offense is taken. Should we talk privately ? I will give you this diary your husband so wishes to have.” he lets go of your hand, getting up before offering his arm.

“Yes.” you nod as you get up too, sliding your hand on the man’s arm. You were so giddy with the idea of success that you nearly didn’t realize Mephisto was cawing.

However if you didn’t notice, it was not the case of Castiel that turned his head up towards the bird with a frown. He then asked the security to take care of it, and before you could step in and prevent this from happening, you were dragged into the man’s office.

Once in his office, he let go of your hand. He headed towards the back of his desk, unlocking what sounded like a chest. In the meantime, you take the time to look around. The place was dark, but golden and green touches enhanced the place. You were basking in a warm light which contrasted with the cold atmosphere that was outside the sacred building. You did not move from the entrance, waiting patiently for you to be given what you had bought.

“This book was retrieved from a bad man’s hands.” His voice broke the silence that was installed between you two. “If your husband really is interested in this script, you should be careful of him.” He said as he got closer to you handing the overused diary.

“I will keep that in mind.” you nodded before taking the diary out of this man’s large hands.

He smiled, flashing his perfect teeth to you. This close, you could see the eyebags between his vibrant eyes. A shiver ran up your back. “I hope our paths will cross again, little miss. If charity is what you are looking for, we could always use new members.”

Charity… “Sure. I would love to stop by once again. The fate of the N109 zone is very dear to me afterall.” You smiled.

He hummed. “Smart girl.” his fingers brushed your chin before you stepped back. “We should get going, your husband will surely show up in about a few seconds .”

Before you could answer, Castiel’s hand was on your free wrist and was dragging you out of his office, back into the auction room and in the middle of it stood Sylus. A visibly displeased Sylus. Almost angry. He shouted your name as soon as you came into his vision. The man with dark brown hair let go of your hand softly, placing his hand on your naked back.

“You should go, little miss. I’d hate for your husband to scare away my guests.”

You mindlessly nodded as you felt a sensation creeping up your back, and you almost trotted back to Sylus, pushing through the bodyguards preventing him from getting closer to their leader. Once in arms reach, the white haired man pulled you under his arm, hiding you beneath his coat.

And yet as you were leaving the scene, you could feel Castiel’s gaze burning holes in your back.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus #lads #fanfic #lads fanfic #sylus x reader #lads sylus x reader #sylus x you #not proofread

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pixiedust0604 · 1 year ago

Text

Miss You Already-

Clarisse x fem!reader

Info: Reader is in Aphrodite Cabin. Set in The Sea of Monsters. This is my first fanfic on here, so some constructive criticism would be very appreciated!

Context: Clarisse is about to go into the Sea of Monsters to get the Golden Fleece, but something (or someone) gets in her way

Reader's POV

Warnings: Angst but is resolved in the end

Word Count: 1381 words

Clarisse was livid.

Not that this should be a surprise. Clarisse was known for her temper in Camp, so it was of no big shock that she was upset. 'Probably the nerves of going on a quest for the first time' her siblings thought.

They were very wrong.

You see, Clarisse had a lucky shirt and bandana she wore when she did things like this. Any competition she went to, any test she did she always wore her lucky CHB shirt and bright red bandana.

She set them out that night, before she went to bed. She knows she did. But when she went to get dressed this morning, they were gone.

Now she's in a worse mood that usual, and I was terrified.

I could here the noise she was making from the dining pavilion.

I took the shirt and bandana last night, but I didn't know that they were her lucky ones. I just wanted something to remind me of her while she went away. It's not like I knew how important they were.

Okay, I didn't know the bandana was important, but in my defence, it's scary thinking about the fact that my girlfriend might not come home after this quest. I know I'll miss her, so I wanted to wear both the t-shirt and the bandana while she was gone, so it felt like she was right there next to me, and that the luck would bring her home to me safely.

I was just about to sneak back off to my cabin after breakfast so Clarisse wouldn't catch me, when I bumped into her immediately.

*Great, I'm dead aren't I* I think to myself as I see her almost glaring at me.

"Hi Y/N, you haven't seen my lucky bandana and camp t-shirt, have you?" She said, even though we both knew that I have them both.

"No, can't say I have honey, good luck on your quest though! Goodbye, love you!" I say, before quickly trying to running off.

Keyword, trying to. Unfortunately, Clarisse caught me by the arm before I could run off.

"Not so fast, love. You need to help me find them. Do you mind me looking in your cabin first?" She asked, grinning at me.

"I mean, I'd love to help, but I'm very busy right now." I say quickly, hoping that it'll work and she'll let me go.

It didn't work. Of course it didn't.

"Please, love? It'll only take 2 minutes." She said, feigning being upset.

I sighed, and said, "Fine, but you'll have to be quick, I don't think you have that much time, Clary." I was worried that she was going to see them both straight away. "Do you mind if I clean up a bit before you look? My part of the cabin is pretty messy."

"No, I'd prefer if I could look right now, lovely. I want to get going as soon as possible, okay?" She answers, looking at me again with that smirk of hers.

"Okay, come on then." I say, turning around terrified. I lead her to the Aphrodite Cabin, practically shaking the entire time.

I open the door, letting her in. "Here you go, just don't go through people's stuff too much, alright?" I close the door behind us, grateful that no-one else is there.

She starts rifling through everyone's wardrobe, checking the tags for her name, and searching through each person's accessories for her bandana. Until she got to mine.

This is where I start panicking, because I hid it in the most obvious place I could think of. Underneath my pillow.

She looks in my wardrobe, obviously to find nothing, then she gets to the bed.

She throws everything off the bed, and there lies the bandana, and the shirt where my pillow should be, crumpled up into a ball.

Clarisse, the girl I've been dating for almost 9 months now, turns to look at me with a look I've never seen aimed at me before.

A look I've only seen her give Percy Jackson, and any monster who dare to make her angry. A look of unbridled rage.

"Babe, why is my lucky bandana and shirt in your bed?" She asked, glaring at me with that look.

"Uh... I- I don't know, could have been one of the Hermes kids? But I don't know how it got there my love," I shakily replied, trying my best to get to the exit, bumping into things on the way.

"Then why are you leaving? Didn't you say yesterday that you wanted to see me off to the border?" She said, frowning at me. She stepped closer.

"Did I? I don't remember that..." I say, trailing off as my hand grasps the door handle.

"Just tell me why you took it, love" Clarisse says, that terrifying look fading and her voice growing softer as she saw how frightened I was.

She steps closer, her face relaxing as she stepped closer. Her hands were spread out wide, showing me I had nothing to fear. That she wouldn't hurt me. I know she never would, I was the only person in the entire camp she wasn't willing to spar with. The only times we ever did spar together, she always held back.

"I wanted something to remember you by, that's all. I'm so scared you won't make it- home, and I want something to have that- that's yours, so it feels like you're here with me. I'm so sorry Clarisse, I'm so so sorry I took them. I won't take anything from you again, I promise. But please, promise me you'll make it home safe, because I can't lose you." I say between sobs, tears flowing down my face and onto the hardwood floor.

I'm quickly enveloped into her arms, and my head is tucked under her chin.

"I'm sorry that you felt that way, Y/N. But maybe next time, ask for something from me. I have a ton of camp shirts and bandanas for you to have that I'd be happy to give you. You just have to a ask." She tells me, stroking my hair.

After a silence, I say, "I will, I'm sorry. Can I still walk you to the border?"

"Of course you can. In fact, why don't you pick out a bandana before I go? You can wear it while I'm gone." She says, letting me go, and leading me out of my cabin, to hers.

"Really?" I ask, my voice wobbling as tears fill my eyes once again.

"Yeah, of course love. You said you wanted something to remind you of me while I'm gone, so you can pick something out of mine." She says walking into her cabin, her hand still holding mine even as her siblings stare.

I ended up choosing a blue bandana and one of her camp shirts.

I felt all eyes on me and Clarisse as she held my hand and walked out with me. "Do you want anyone to come with us to the border?" She asks, rubbing my knuckles.

"No, I think I'll be okay" I reply, clutching the blue cloth in my left hand.

"Alright then my love." She said, and pulled me along gently to the border. There stood Argus, with his van.

"You ready to go?" He asks Clarisse, opening the van door for her.

"Yeah, just one sec" Clarisse answers.

Argus nods his head, his multiple eyes blinking at the same time.

"I'll see you later, Y/N. And don't you dare say I might not be, because I know I'll always come back to you." She says playfully.

"I swear to the gods, if you die on this quest, I'll kill you Clarisse." I joke, giggling as tears fill my eyes again.

She then kisses me, and her hands snaked around my waist. I quickly grab her face, kissing her back. I can feel her chapped lips as they move against mine. Her rough hands pull me closer, so I can feel her body .

Unfortunately, Argus interrupted saying "Clarisse, we have to get going."

She slowly pulls back and lets go of my waist. As I feel her body leave mine, Clarisse possibly for the last time, kisses me on the cheek, and moves away from me to go on her quest.

#pjo series #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo x reader

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sulumuns-dootah · 2 months ago

Text

27. 10. Pegging - Satan

༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽Helltober '24☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

༺☆༻

“This is some kind of bullshit.” the short demon looks up at you, as he's sitting at the foot of his bed, with annoyance in his voice.

“Nu-uh... There's witnesses, both to our bet as well as you losing majorly. Weren't you the one to make it a competition in the first place?” you turn away from him and start opening your newly arrived purchase.

The box is wrapped discreetly and extra carefully, which is nice, but just ripping into the wrapping paper is harder than it should. Tapping into Satan's power you end up ripping it out of frustration after almost breaking two of your nails.

“Just because you've won, doesn't meant I'm gonna make it easy for you.” the demon crosses his arms and turns his head to the side, avoiding looking at you altogether.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think that he's not into the idea of having his prostate bullied by you, but just by looking closer you can tell he's blushing. He may be good at hiding his true feelings, but the rosy tint to his face, only enhanced by his near-white complexion, gives away everything you need to know.

Finally, the strap and its corresponding attachment are out of the box. Just holding your new plastic cock, the wight is nice, heavy about as much as is it were real. There's even a prominent vein running along the underside. You're tempted to try it out on yourself, but not tonight.

When you turn back to Satan, he's still looking away, as if he's trying to ignore you.

His legs are slightly spread. Just enough for you to comfortably straddle him and bring his face back to look at you. There is a slight scowl, but you know it's all part of his act, so you try to soothe him by running your hands under his overall, “What are you so afraid of? I thought you liked pain... Either way, I'm gonna go easy on you...”

“It's not the pain. It's the position that I'm in. I'm a king for fucks sake. What would happen if others would find out the king of Gehenna takes it up his ass like a bitch in heat?”

“Well... You wouldn't be the only one. Pretty sure Beel and Levi don't mind getting some love up there either.” you look up at him innocently, trying to not blink from the intensity of the glow in his red eyes. Those things are sometimes like neons.

“A-are you trying to 'other-demons' me?” a mischievous grin finds its way back onto Satan's face.

“Is it working?”

Suddenly, you're thrown on the bed with the angry demon hovering over your form, “No.”

“Are you sure?” you can't help but taunt further.

“Stop pushing your luck with me.” he mutters into your ear as his head moves lower, to your neck, to bite into it as his hips start rocking into yours. There's a clear bulge forming each second and you know, he's just playing hard to get, so he can still pretend that he's in charge. But that's not for long now.

You let him nibble and suck on your neck only for a few more moments, to help get your own excitement going, but then you're leaping and flipping him over, straddling his hips.

“Ugh... Sneaky bitch.” he groans, but doesn't try to overpower you again.

“Don't forget why we're here in the first place.” you voice sings and you start to take off your top. He's not getting out of this that easy, but you might as well try to distract him for the time being. Once you're finally inside him, he won't be complaining anymore. Hopefully.

Reaching behind you to the other end of the bed, where you'd left the strap and your new dick, you happily show it off with a wide smile, “Look a this beauty. If I was in your position, I'd be dripping already.”

“Hah, don't tempt me or I'll double stuff you with that thing instead.” he's still trying to sound threatening, but the twitch of his cock underneath your hips tells you something different.

Satan probably hasn't realised it yet, but you'd picked out your strap-on to be the same as his.

“Hm~ I'd actually like that... Maybe if you're a good boy for me, I'd even let you triple stuff me.”

The demon underneath you howls at the thought and starts hastily taking off his boiler suit. The sudden switch in his energy makes you smile even wider.

Within seconds, the demon below you is fully naked, his chest already heaving up and down. You'd given him a choice if he wants to get on all his fours for you, or if he wants to be sprawled out underneath you. He chose the former, so now all that you can see of him is the perfectly sculpted ass. His thighs are slightly trembling, but that's surely only from the anticipation.

The clicks of you securing the dildo onto your strap makes him jolt a bit and his head tries to find the best angle to see your actions from his position.

You can't help but to pat his bare skin to reassure him, but it has the opposite effect, “Oi, stop treating me like some horse and get to it already!”

“Are you sure in a position to command me?” there's a dominant edge to you voice and you can't help but to land a few spanks, more harsher than the pats before.

“You just wait, I'll-I'll make you regret later...Haah~!” one last threat from him is interrupted by a loud whine. Your hands started to stroke his fully erect dick and circling his rim at the same time to help start loosening him.

The change in pitch of his moans and groans clues you to finally slip in one of your fingers covered in his precum. It only takes a few pumps in and out of him and he's already begging for another one and another one, until all four of your fingers are snugly exploring his ass.

“Aw, for someone who didn't want this, you're really eager, aren't you?” you coo, twisting your hand as it prepares the demon below you for the main attraction.

“Fu-Fuck! J-just fucking put it in already!” a growls amongst all his moans and whines as his hands nearly rip the sheets.

༺☆༻

Shhh... The prompt for tomorrow is Body worship ^^

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#Helltober'24 #whb smut #whb satan

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wishing-on-a-staranise · 1 year ago

Text

Wasting Time.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

summary: given everything happening in Hawkins, Steve ends up pushing you away too far.

word count: 6k+

warnings/tags: no pronouns used (gender neutral reader); no y/n used; sad; i dont plan on writing a part two to this; s4 stuff; insecure reader; death; loss; injuries; mention of steve's parents; ollie is the real mvp in this tbh; unresolved? yay;

a/n: based off of Lizzy McAlpine’s song, “..what are we?” This was meant to be below 2k. I fought it to keep it below 2k. I lost, immensely and pathetically so. but that's okay.

as for my other stuff, I truly don't know when I'll post it. I've got pretty important things I have going on in life and i really need to do well in a life altering test next year so everything else is on the back burner rn. sorry to those who are really looking forward the next parts but don't u worry I will post them ;)

my masterlist

You shouldn't be at the store alone.

Considering the recent murders in Hawkins. You really, truly shouldn't be alone.

It isn't like you wanted to be. But the owner of the store you worked at did not necessarily give two shits about you. Refusing to pay you if you didn't show up for a few days. So, it isn't like you had much of a choice.

You sat on the rickety old swivel chair, that your asshole boss wouldn't change. The news was playing non-stop in the background– never in your entire life have you had the news channel on for so long.

The new chief of police was being interviewed by the reporters, telling the viewers to stay calm and assuring that they had it all under control. It didn't help to ease your mind.

You were not calm. Not one bit.

With each movement you made, the rusty metal of the chair groaned underneath you.

You were thinking of calling him again.

You rotated a little. The chair screeched again.

Why hadn't he even bothered to call you back yet?

Your leg bounced. The metal creaked.

Frustrated, you abandon the stupid chair with a pathetic scoff. Opting to just sit on the counter, facing away from the door. You gripped the edge of the surface, teeth gnawing at your lips as you looked at his jacket draped atop the chair you were occupying just seconds ago. His jacket.

What if he didn't want you to call him? Your grip tightened.

You haven't heard from your boyfriend since thursday.

You both had planned to go out on friday— the boy hadn't exactly told you where he had planned for you two to go. He had instead told you to, “Wear something cute like you always do. Bring Ollie with you if y’wanna and I'll pick you up from yours at 5?”

You had bought a new outfit, a couple weeks prior. you had put all your last month's salary into it. Your favourite colour.

You did your hair, a little bit of your face as well. Looking in the mirror, you had looked….. nice.

Something about that realisation had conjured up a lump in your throat. It was rare that you considered yourself good looking. Which is probably why you barely ever dressed up. But at that moment, as you looked in the mirror, a smile grew on your face, one that couldn't be contained.

You couldn't wait for Steve to see you.

You were ready before the clock even hit 4:35.

You waited. No sign of him.

When the clock hit 5:15, you went out onto your driveway, your dog, Ollie following behind you. You waited, pacing the concrete.

6:05, you were sitting on the stairs infront of the door, your dog's head on your lap. You waited.

6:45, your shoulders were slumped, your own head rested on your knees. Ollie napping beside you. You waited.

7:27, it was dark, Ollie whined to go back in. your eyes stung a little. But you scratched him behind his ears and decided to wait out just a little more.

When the clock hit 8:00, you finally got up, dusting the dirt and dust off your brand new clothes. Blinking back the salty tears, you quietly went back to your room after giving your dog his food and water. You changed into your ugly PJs, not bothering with anything else, as you buried yourself in your blankets.

Soon, you heard scratching on your bedroom door, your dog waiting to be let in.

You smiled with a sniffle, letting him jump onto the mattress with you despite your mom’s strict rule to not let the dog onto beds, sofas or carpets. the dog whined a little before laying next to you.

Ollie loved Steve. They had not exactly started on the right foot when Ollie almost bit the boy when you had tried sneaking him in one night. But after some time, they both warmed up to each other– to the point where it became common for Ollie to tag along with you and Steve on dates.

“I'm sorry bud”, you stroked the fur on his head, "i know how much you like hanging out with him." He whined again, warm tongue licking your fingers.

You knew he didn't really understand, a dog couldn't understand insecurities and the utter disdain of being stood up by someone you loved. Yet here he was, sharing your sorrows and wordlessly warming up your blues. Not there because he empathised with you or pitied you but there because he loved you.

The next morning when you woke up, you went immediately to your bathroom, to try and clean the mess that you hadn't the previous night.

Your eyes were red and puffy. You did look like someone who cried themself to sleep. You tried to scrub it all off, not even bothering with being gentle with your poor skin.

You didn't feel pretty when you looked in the mirror now. You felt pathetic.

“Honey!” your mom shouted from the kitchen, downstairs.

“Yeah, coming”, you shouted back as loudly as you could– which wasn't very loud at all.

As you climbed down, you were met with Ollie, tail wagging, nails clicking against the floor.

“Would just not take the breakfast from me”, your brother commented, handing you the dog bowl that was filled with Ollie’s food, “What a dramatic son of a bitch.... literally”

The dramatic son of a bitch in question, looked up at the two of you with big round eyes, tongue out, drool spilling out on the floor. You held up a finger, the dog immediately sat down– wagging tail sweeping the floor behind him. You finally put the bowl down and told the dog to dig in.

“Did you make him sleep in the bed again?” your mother spoke from behind her magazine.

“Why would I do that?” you lied as you refilled his water bowl.

“Because when I came to call you for dinner last night, he was sleeping on your bed, with you.”

“Oh”, a sheepish expression over your face, “I'll clean the bedsheets, okay?”

“and why did you skip dinner–”

Your mother thankfully got interrupted by the loud sound of the front door opening, followed by quick footsteps. “Did you check the news?”, your dad panted, he moved towards the tv in the living room, not bothering to take off his running shoes.

“No, dad. It's only you who is boring enough to watch the news”, your brother’s joke landed flat.

“What happened?”, your mother asked, brows furrowed.

“A Hawkins student was found dead.”

The bell above the door rang, you turned to look at the customer and you felt as if your heart had hit a rib.

There was Steve Harrington, bursting in through the doors, wearing clothes you'd never seen him in before.

He wasn't alone. The boy was accompanied by Dustin Henderson, Max Mayfield, Lucas and Erica Sinclair, Robin Buckley, and Nancy Wheeler. Most of them looked to be covered in dust, grime and worse.

They, without looking in your direction, broke into groups of two, one led by the older girls and the other by Steve, moving frantically through the aisles to get what they needed. It must have been an emergency. Considering all the recent happenings, it might be.

After a few minutes, the group led by Nancy and Robin stood infront of the counter and you started billing everything. A couple minutes later, the group led by Steve joined them as well. It is when they are pouring the stuff onto the counter when Steve finally notices that it's you.

His movements stuttered a little as if he'd just remembered that you worked here and he opened his mouth to say something but closed it before anything could come out.

The silence was awkward and deafening– the others definitely noticed. The only sound that came was the beeps of the scanner. You wondered if Steve had told them about the both of you.

When you moved to put everything in a bag, Steve stepped a little closer to help with putting all the stuff into the grocery bags, it is then that you noticed the boy's skin.

The skin which you knew to be soft to the touch was covered in dirt. Slashes and cuts wound around his neck, a piece of dirty cloth peeking from under the hem of his camo shirt. Blood.

You didn't realise you were frozen stuck until you heard him clearing his throat.

You realised that that the boy had already paid the total, the crumbled up cash placed on the counter. The rustling of the grocery bags alerted you that were moving to leave.

“S– Steve?” your voice came out an unsure whisper.

They all stopped. He looked over his shoulder, then back to his friends, “You guys go on”, he said to them, handing the two bags he was holding to Lucas and Dustin, “ I'll be out in a minute” They silently nodded before leaving to get into a van.

You spoke up when the bell above the door rang on the door closing, “Wh– what is happening?”

He stood across from you, on the other side of the counter, not making any efforts to come closer as he normally would– maybe hoping that you wouldn't see the wounds that you had already seen. “Nothing”, he cleared his hoarse throat, “I'm– I'm sorry for friday–”

Sorry? Is that all you get?

“You're covered in blood and dirt”, you pointed out.

“Trust me it just looks worse than it actually is”, he let out a dry chuckle.

“Whose van is that?” your vision flickered to the winnebago parked infront of the store.

“A friend’s.”

“Which one?”

“Munson.”

“Munson? Like Eddie munson? Have you heard the news?--”

“Yeah I have”, his words came out quick, “and it isn't him.”

“How are you so sure?” your eyebrows drew together.

“I just.. “, he paused, “I just am.”

“And how did you get those? '', you said, nodding to his wounded neck. You wanted to touch him, to hold him, but there was still a counter between the two of you, and closing that distance felt.. wrong like you weren't supposed to do it.

“I got in a fight.”

“With what, a barbed wire?” it came out snappier than you had intended. You really tried to not hold his face in your palm.

“No”, his tone grew more frustrated with every question you asked.

“Then who?”

“No, why do you–”

“Cuz I'm– I'm worried about you Steve.” you interrupted to continue your rambling, “You could get like– tetanus or shit–”

“Hey, hey”, for a second you thought he was going to hold your face like you wanted to do to him, instead he placed his palm on your shoulder, “I’m fine, okay? I don't want you to be worried about me.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” you whispered. “I just want you to tell me what's happening.” his hands fell back to his sides. “Just let me in”

“Nothings–”

“No! Something is happening”, you interjected, angry, worried, “Okay? I know. I know you don't always tell me everything. And that's fine, y'know– I thought you’d tell me when you felt like telling me but don't–” you take a quick breath, slowing down your quick words, “Don't– do you not trust me enough to tell me?”

“I do. But there isn't anything to tell you”, he tried his best to shrug while trying not to pull on the scabbing of his bloody torso– he held back a wince, “Nothings happening.”

There’s a beat.

You can tell he’s lying.

“Why didn't you show up on friday then?” you barely give him a couple seconds to answer before continuing, “God, when I heard someone had died that night, I– “ you stopped before he could hear the quiver of your voice, you gulped. “I called you fifteen times”

“I was at work”

“I went there the next morning to check– it was only Keith there. Told me you'd left already." He opened his mouth before closing it up again.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“And what is Nancy doing with you–” you hated that you were jealous, you never wanted to be that person. Hell, you and Nancy were almost friends in high school. But you couldn't lie and say that it didn't hurt to see them together right after he had bailed on you.

“Well if you noticed, it isn't just me and her, y’know. No need to be jealous–”

“Yeah, I will be jealous, okay? I will be jealous if you start hanging out with your ex and start ditching our dates–”

“I didn't ditch you–”

“I waited for three hours steve. You didn't even call me after or give me heads up. And you already know about everything that's happening in town, so I'm sorry I was worried shitless and you didn't even pick up my calls. And now you're with all these people– which is fine– they’re your friends but your ex is a part of these people. And you're bleeding and definitely wounded, and you won't tell me anything.”

“I will tell you okay, I just–”

“So, not now?”

“I'm running a little late–”

“To what?”

“I'll tell you later okay?”

“When?”

“Just later! Okay? I need to go and you're wasting my–”he stopped himself, seemingly having dug himself a hole. He quickly tried to correct himself, “I need to–”

Your heart had surely stopped, “What did you just say? I'm wasting your time?” tears pricked your eyes, “Is that what this is? A waste of time? Is that what the last eight months have been for you?”

“You know I didn't mean it like that”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I didn't– I ….”, he trailed off. The horn beeped and you heard a muffled shout for Steve's name in Dustin's voice.

You sniffled, “are you gonna get those taken care of at the hospital?” you referred to his wounds, your voice was suddenly so much quieter.

“....yeah”, he said after a moment– lying.

You nodded. “You still need to clean it up and”, you picked up rubbing alcohol, a painkiller bottle from the shelf behind you and some bandages, “bandage it.. ‘til you go to the hospital.” you tossed them over to him.

The horn of the winnebago blared. Steve looked back at the door, he reached for his wallet but you stopped him, “you don't need to. It's fine.” Steve heard you sniffle again.

“Baby–”

“For the record… it wasn't a waste of time for me", your voice cracked, “But I'm really sorry if I wasted your time.”

He stepped closer, shaking his head a little but you weren't looking up, eyes trained on the grain of the wooden counter, trying your darndest to not let the tears fall.

“You should go now.”

“honey–” the horn blared.

“Just go, Steve.”

You only dared to look up when you heard the bell above the door ring. Your vision was blurry as you watched the vehicle drive away.

Honestly, you get it. you understand.

You understand if the guy you loved wasn't willing to let you in. And despite how much it hurt, you couldn't keep him to yourself. You weren''t sure what this entire thing meant. Did you just indirectly say that it was over? Did you want it to be over? Were you willing to let it be over? To let him go?

“C’mon”, he stood at your door with expectant eyes.

You scoffed before looking back at the clock— your parents werent coming home until another half an hour, “alright fine”, you gave in.

After you put your shoes on, you reached for the door handle to shut the door behind you but there was Ollie standing right on the threshold, tail wagging. The dog gave a soft ruff, looking up at you with expectant eyes.

“Please don't bring him along too.”

You smirked, “Ollie you wanna come for a walk?”, the boy beside you groaned playfully.

The dog barked happily before spinning around in circles. His nails clicked against the floor as he sprinted to where his leash and jacket were kept. “Alright, bud”, you moved to put Ollie's jacket on him and hooked the leash onto his collar.

The dog walked infront of the two of you. The sun had set and the three of you were walking under the warm yellow pavement lit up by the streetlights. Ollie would stop every now and then to sniff at a bush, tree trunk or lamp post.

“When will he stop third wheeling us?” Steve finally spoke up beside you.

“Never.”

“This was supposed to be a romantic walk in the snow and now he’s pooping and pissing all over the winter wonderland– wont be a white christmas anymore”

“Oh, shut up. You love him, I know it”

“Yeah, whatever”, he shook his head with a smile.

“By the way, to what do I owe the pleasure of a romantic walk?”

“Wha– ? babe, You say as if I'm not romantic”

“No, you are. But I thought you were going to that christmas party with your parents.”

“Yeah that was until my dad started being an asshole after too much egg nog. So, I booked it”, he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry Steve”

“Eh, it's okay– Jesus Christ, Ollie, how much territory are you gonna mark, boy?’

“Steve..”, your fingers reached for his palm. You both stopped, he looked down at where your hands were intertwined before giving it a squeeze.

“I'm okay. Okay?”

You look at him for a bit. Despite wanting to, you dont push further. You squeezed his hand back, “okay.” his shoulders relaxed.

You started walking again, pulling yourself further into the boy's side, resting your cheek on his shoulder. It dawned on you then that you had forgotten to wear any jacket or sweater and now you were freezing.

“I’m cold”, you whined through your smushed cheek, the boy chuckled.

“Of course you are. You don't wear one, but make sure the dog’s wearing a jacket– great priorities babe”

“Well, I have you, don't I?” you said, giving him your biggest puppy eyes and the most over-exaggerated frown.

“Yeah, “ he sighs, handing you the leash he was holding, “you do.” He took off his jacket he was wearing over his his fuzzy sweater and helped you put it on. “Better?” he gestured towards the leash to take it back.

You returned it and nodded with a proud grin, “you've fallen under my trap”

“Yeah? what trap?” he muses while smoothing down the crinkles in his thick sweater.

“This…..”, you smirked, “is mine now”, you declared, pulling the material tighter around you.

“Oh, no! The jacket stealing trap! What will I ever do?” he brought his to both his cheeks, shaking his head in pretence worry. You laughed.

“Y’know…”, he started– the corners of his mouth curling up, “I would give you all my jackets if you…… Kiss me?”

“Oh, yeah? That depends…”, you crossed your arms, “How many jackets do you have?”

“Oh, so many– like a million” he shrugged. Both your steps slowed down to a halt. “Billions….. gazillions”

“Wow, babe, that's a lot of kisses”, you moved in a little closer to him.

The leash in Steve's hand tugs accompanied by Ollie whining, the dog came closer to the two of you who were leaning into each other. The dog started pulling on Steve's jeans.

“Hey! Dickhead, I'm having a moment here”

“Hey! don't call him a dickhead”, you admonished.

“Well, he’s acting like a dickhead.”

You glared at him.

“What? We were about to have a lovely romantic kiss before he so gracefully interrupted”

“Why do you have a rivalry with my dog?”

“He’s my arch nemesis”, he said with narrowed eyes directed towards the puppy.

You playfully rolled your eyes before taking the leash from Steve's hand and walking ahead. You laughed as you said, “Oh, please, you're just jealous because I love him more”

“I’m not jeal– what did you just say?”

“Wh– what?” you stopped in your track before turning around, brows furrowed.

“Oh, you just said something”

“What did I–”

“You said you love him more than you love me. That implies you love me.” he explained, walking closer to you. “You said you love me”, he stated with a shy smile as he stood directly infront of you.

“.. did I?” heat crept up your cheeks.

“Yeap, it was loud and clear. Even Ollie heard it. Right bud?” the dog barked in response as if actually had a clue of what was going on in the conversation.

“Oh, so now youre both working together? You know what? yeah, well, so what? I said it. I love you. You got a problem with that?”

“No… I'm pretty okay with it actually”

“Just okay?”

“More than okay. Perfect. Infact, I love you too.”

A shy smile grew on your features, same on his. The two of you leaned in but stopped mid-way when Ollie ruffed. You groaned, pulling away before saying with a stern voice, “Ollie, sit.”

“Little shit, only listens to you”, the boy infront of you mutters as the dog settled down and sat down. You glared at Steve. “Sorry”, he apologized, his head hanging low.

“Now, where were we?” you pull him in by grabbing a fistful of his fuzzy sweater, your lips slotting against one another. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other helped tilt your head. You too held his face back, the other hand snaking down to his waist where the fingers hooked through the belt loops.

You pulled away when his movements started to become a little faster and his hand started moving lower, “Okay, okay. I… its getting late– my parents are gonna be here soon”, you heaved.

“We were only getting to the good part” he whined through laboured breaths.

“Kissing me wasnt the good part?”

His eyes widened, “I– I mean”, he scoffed when he noticed the sly smirk on your face, “Stop messing with me.”

You tugged lightly on the leash to get Ollies attention who had started to dig a hole in the snow, “c'mon Ollie.” the dog’s tail wagged before he shook the snow off of him. The dog took the lead as the two of you ambled behind him.

Most of the walk back was holding hands silently, looking around at the christmas lights everyone in the neighbourhood had put up. When you were almost two houses away from yours, you spoke up, “you know. You could… stay the night?”

Steve looked at the pavement as the two of you walked, you looked at him with expectant eyes. He sighed before finally answering,“You know what? Sure.”

“But you would have to sneak out through the window later”

“Window? With these joints? I'm old.” he frowned.

“Oh, my poor, poor twenty year old boy”, you frowned back with a mock pitying look as you unlocked the main door and removed Ollie’s leash and jacket.

You and Steve wasted no time after that, running up the stairs to your room. As soon as the door was closed behind you, Steve was on you, plump and slightly cold lips moving fast against yours.

“Well, you're eager aren't you?”

“What? No…” he smiled against your skin, a giggle erupted from your throat as the sensation tickled you.

You were about to go back to attaching your lips to his when you heard a woof followed by the wood of the door scratching. The both of you sighed, foreheads touching.

“That little shit”, Steve huffed, “what an attention whore.”

You laughed through uneven breathing before moving off the door and then letting the dog in.

You heard the door downstairs opening and closing followed by your mother’s voice telling you she was home. You quickly went downstairs telling Steve and Ollie to stay quiet.

The boy took a seat at the edge of the mattress, the dog came to stand infront of him for a bit– tail wagging. The dog hopped on his back legs, front paws scratching at Steve's jeans. Steve reached down to scratch him behind the ears, “y’know Oliver. You're real cute and all. But you're one big cock block”

You really shouldn't have been alone.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were wallowing in your own self pity, the next moment, the lights were flickering and soon the ground started rumbling beneath you.

Now, as you were hiding underneath the counter of the store you worked at, the walls shook and ground rumbled. All you could think of was your family, dog and Steve Harrington.

Of course, the world decides to end today of all days.

There was so much smoke. All you could see was black, maybe your eyes were closed, maybe there was a blackout. But something was on fire– there was so much smoke. Your eyes were watering and your throat burned, coughs uncontrollably tearing from your throat. You felt light headed, soot stuck to your sweaty skin.

You really wanted to go home right about now.

Some rest sounded nice. Maybe some sleep.

You felt yourself succumbing to sleep, eyes drooping on their own accord. Breath slowing down. The corners of your vision went black.

It quieted down for a second. It wasn't too much for a second.

Sleep sounded like the perfect thing.

“Help!” a small terrified voice broke through the silence.

“Help!” it came again from somewhere outside the store. You somehow managed to will your muscles to move. You peeked from under the table and through your watery eyes you saw a boy who looked to be younger than you, flailing his arms in the air, limping.

Your body worked on its own accord. Muscles and bones working on autopilot. You crawled from under the counter, grabbed your water bottle and Steve's jacket. Your movements were jerky as you spilled the water onto the fabric, wetting it before putting it over your nose and mouth– a makeshift mask.

You ran. You left your safety bubble and ran. You ran despite the ash in your lungs, despite the shake of your fingers, lightheadedness, and the lactic acid settling in your tired muscles. In your disorientation and franticness, the stupid rusty chair hit your back, the heavy metal smacked hard against your skin but you still ran. You stumbled to open the door, shouted for him to run and pulled him in. You put your bootleg mask to the boy’s mouth.

The rumbling of the earth had quieted down a little; enough to allow you to help him walk over to the desk– your safe bubble.

You were just about to reach it when another wave hit, the ground shook and both of you lost your footing. The boy huddled to you, you moved to cover him to the best of your ability. The aisle next to you groaned and when you managed to look, it was swaying.

You tried to get away.

“Move!” you shouted, your voice barely audible over the rumble. The boy shook under you. In a last ditch effort, you pushed him away.

You tried to get away, trying to crawl away yourself, but the heavy metal shelves hit your spine. Your head smacked against the tiles.

You heard shouting, you weren't sure if it was the boy or you. Your ears were ringing. your limbs felt like jelly buried under the rubble. And you really didn't feel like you could get up. You couldn't really see anymore, the darkness from the corner of your vision had finally spread.

It hurt. It hurt so much that you weren't sure where it hurt or if it was still hurting. You tasted metal, felt a trickle run down the nape of your neck. You felt a little cold. The boys voice came in and out, none of the words truly registering in your brain.

God, you really missed your bed.

You missed ollie. You wished you could pet him again, give him his favourite treat, help him sneak into a bed again.

You missed your parents and your brother. What wouldn’t you do to have one more dinner together.

You missed steve. How you wished you could go back to that winter evening when you fell asleep in his warm arms. When you’d held his hand. You really wanted to hold his hand, hold him close, kiss him.

You felt fingers wrap around your wrist. “I'm gonna try to pull you out”, you barely heard the young boy say through a lumpy throat, you felt a tug on your arm. Pain shot through you. He pulled again, You didn't move. A scream of pain ripped from your chest.

“No!” you screamed, words coming out all slurred up. “No, stop! Just hide under the table and call the ambulance when it's over!” you still couldn't see.

“But–”

“It's okay! You’ll be okay, Ju-- just go!”

“I'm not– your– you're bleeding”, he gripped your shaking palm, “J– Just stay awake!”

“No, Go!” you tried your best to shout but it came out as only a whimper.

The warmth left your palm, you sighed in relief. You really didn't want a kid to see you dying.

A few seconds later, you felt a pressure on the side of your head, a hit of a familiar scent hit you– Steve's cologne. Steve?

“Steve..?”

The box in your hand was as heavy as lead as the lady led you through the Hawkins high gym which had now been turned into a makeshift infirmary for the people who had been affected by the earthquake.

You didn't remember much from the night of the earthquake, you remember falling and hitting your head, the pain and someone holding your hand. Your delirious brain in its haze had convinced you that it was Steve's warm hand. That he had come back and held you while the ground shook. The carbon monoxide poisoning had truly got to you.

Much to your delusional brain’s dismay, It was when you woke up a day later; your parents told you it had been infact a boy a few years younger than you. You later found out that the young boy– Andy, although overall fine, had broken his leg. He and his family packed everything up and moved out of town a week later.

Your muscles were still sore. The stitches and the bandaging over the big gash on your back was tight around your ribs. You had also acquired a wound on the side of your head and though you had bled, you were lucky enough to not bleed to your death or die of a haemorrhage. The paramedics had to shave off a part of the back of your hair to be able to apply the gauze properly. And you were a little embarrassed about it– you guessed you'd have to shave it all off now. You weren't sure how long you'd be willing to wear your brother old, musky baseball hat– you also weren't sure if it was a good idea to put that abomination anywhere near a wound.

"seems like you have clothes and blankets; that one", she pointed to a table with heaps of clothes piled on top of it. They looked to be freshly donated as they were in the middle of being neatly folded by--

"Steve, take these as well, will ya'?" the women beside you said.

He looked up, stilling for a second, “Hey.”

"oh, you seem to know each other. swell!" she clapped her palms before leaving the two of you alone.

“Hey… I uh– I came to donate these”, you put the cardboard box on the table infront of him, “Its uh– its mostly blankets”

“Oh, okay.”

“I– I have a couple more boxes in the car.”

“Okay.”

The walk to your car was a silent one, a little awkward. Surely, your last interaction playing in his head as well. As you weaved through the people, you noticed Dustin Henderson, limping as he gave water to some of the patients. And you had already noticed the scars on steves neck. You really wanted to ask what happened.

“Is everyone in your family okay?” he spoke up shyly, clearly trying to ease the tension even a bit.

“...yeah,”

My brother can't hear out of his left ear anymore.

“Yeah, everyone…”

My dog died.

“Everyones fine.”

“Are you fine?”

You nodded quickly.

You really didn't want to tell him about the giant bruise spread across your back and torso. You didn't want to tell him about the gash on your back or the bandages hiding under your baseball cap. You certainly did not want to tell him about how you were stuck in that rubble for hours with a kid holding your hand, while you had thought that it had been him in your half-conscious state.

“What about you?” you echoed, “Your– your neck?”

“Yeah, yeah– uh.. I’ll be fine.”

Your chest tightened, you swallowed. How did small talk become so hard?

The two of you approached your car, you popped open the trunk, and there were three more well-taped boxes waiting.

You picked one up. “Here, let me–” he picked up the other two. Both of your tried your best not to wince at the strain. “Wow this is a lot”, a half-minded comment as he slammed the trunk.

“Yeah, um– I mean, these people need it more. Plus, it would just be easier to give it away, anyway since we--”, you cut yourself off, trying to pretend you hadn't said anything.

“What?”

You look away silently, blinking, “um– how are you holding up?”

“Yeah, you have already asked me– I'm– I'm sorry… are you– what do you—” he stopped. You looked anywhere but him. It clicked.

“You…. you're… moving, aren't you?” he murmured slowly and as if saying it too loudly would make it real. You nodded.

“Why?”

“Why? Steve– look around. Everyone is moving. People are dying left and right. People going missing, never being found again?And now what, Murders?! My parents are convinced that it is the end of the world.”

“But it isn't– It was just an earthquake”

“An earthquake does not give you wounds around your neck Steve. Ever since the Byers kid disappeared, my dad has been planning to move… and then that night I– I almost ....”, you trailed off, not wanting to tell him more especially after you had just lied to him that you were fine. “I barely made it.”

“What?”

You took a shaky breath in, Steve's chest tightened. “I should–”

“When are you leaving?”

“.. today. Right now. This was the last thing I had to do.”

After that he quietly walked the rest of the way, helping you put the boxes where they needed to be put. As he did it all, his eyebrows were pulled together, the crease between them deep-- what was he thinking? you wondered.

Once everything was done, he finally spoke up, “Can I walk you back? To your car? For one last time, please?” the desperation in his tone was so clear and it made you want to cry.

You opened the door, Steve's jacket draped over the passenger seat. The piece of clothing that probably saved you. The thick material had stopped you from bleeding to your demise. You really had to thoroughly wash it to get rid of the stain. But you couldn't justify throwing it away.

It no longer had the bloody stain, or the smell of smoke in it. However it also didn't smell like Steve anymore.

“Here–”, you leaned into the car to pull it out, fighting back the tears and the waver in your voice, “your jacket… don't worry I cleaned it up”, you held it up between the two of you.

Steve, pushed the material back in your direction, “Keep it. It's yours, remember? It's yours.”

"Considering everything….” you gulped, “I hope I'm not asking for too much", you took a deep breath before finally whispering, "can I hug you… please?"

It was a tight one. It was a desperate one. You hated that you smelled like antibacterial ointment and sweat. You buried your face deeper into his shirt– he smelled like medical gauze, and medicinal cream accompanied with a faint yet familiar scent of his hair products, his cologne and that distinct scent of Steve.

You pulled away, words sticky in your throat, “Take care. Don't die. I'm…..”, you swallowed, “I'm gonna miss you."

You didn't wait for a response, you quickly sat in your car and drove away, not even stealing a look from the rear-view mirror. You only let the tears fall when you had turned the corner to your home.

It isn't like you had a choice of whether or not you were staying. But You hate that he didn't stop you. You hate that he didn’t call your name, to see your face one last time. You hate you still had his jacket in your hands, you hate how tightly you were gripping it.. You hate that there were tears in your eyes. You hate that there was a sob in your ribs. You hate that you said that you were going to miss him. You hate you imagined a life with him, holding hands on romantic walks.

You hate all that. But you don't hate him. God, it'd be so much easier if you hated him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader angst #stranger things #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things 4 #steve harrington x gn!reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst

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meowmeowriley · 7 months ago

Text

Changes: a Poll-Fic

Ch. 4 Remove the Blindfold and Muzzle

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

(Cheeky link to Ch. 5->) Ch. 5

CW: Graphic Depictions of Gore, Body Horror, Bug Stuff

The only thing worse than being captured and restrained, was being muzzled like an animal. Dehumanized. "Ghost." He called, announcing to the other man that yes, he was here. His Johnny was here. Ghost, and only Ghost, could call him that.

Ghost sighed in relief, his chains jingled as his shoulders and body slumped. "Johnny."

The giggling had not stopped.

While normally Soap wouldn't be able to see his face due to the mask, he desperately wished he could see his facial features in that moment. The way his face would soften, the thin stubble that wouldn't grow over his scars, his crooked and jagged teeth peaking out when he smiled. "Gaz, be advised: I found Ghost." Soap had begun approaching the other man.

"He broken?" The only thing broken it seemed was Gaz's voice coming through comms. Reception was shite however many kilometers he was under the surface.

"He's still standing." Soap had reached his Lieutenant at last. Through the green haze of the NVG's he made out darker stains all over the man. He wasn't dumb, he knew dried blood when he saw it. It was caked in his hair, dripped out from the slits in the muzzle and underneath it, down his neck. His neck was a sight. "Creepin' bloody Jesus..." Soap brought a hand to the man's neck, where a flat metal band was so tight it was embedded in the skin. Soap couldn't tell what they were made of, but spikes of some kind jutted out of Ghost's neck above and below the collar- because what else could soap call it- and wrapped over it, digging into the flesh on the opposite end from which they protruded. The flesh was angry and warm even through his glove, and when he touched one of the spikes it felt like a hardened shell or coating of some kind, plastic or-

It moved. Several of the others moved in response, like a wave. It reminded Soap of the centipede. Way too fucking much like the centipede.

Ahahahahahahuhhhhh...hhhmmmmmmm...

The laughing had tapered into a pleased hum. Soap's stomach seized. His head throbbed. A part of him deep down screamed to back away. Whatever that was was unnatural. He withdrew his hand from Ghost's neck. The humming stopped.

"Johnny?" Ghost tilted his head. He sounded worried.

"Sorry, Sir. My heid's mince. Been worried about you, havenae slept much." He closed back in and pushed the blindfold out of the way. Crusted blood flaked and crunched, and made it difficult to tug off. He knew to expect the worst, but to see that Ghost had had both of his eyes removed nearly caused him to void his stomachs contents all over the both of them. Dried blood trailed down from both sockets, down behind the muzzle.

"Can't wait to get back to base, sleep in my own bloody bed." Ghost said calmly, as if he didn't have a horrifying career-ending disfigurement.

As Soap tried to force his tongue to form some sort of reply, a quip or snide remark, anything to lighten the mood or keep himself from barfing, he noticed the centipede climbing over Ghost's muzzle.

"Oh ye fecker-" Soap was about to swat the damn thing off of Ghost when he was interrupted.

"Took you long enough." Ghost huffed. The centipede reared back, holding on with only its posterior end, and regarded the man whom it was perched upon. It seemed to look from one socket to the other, debating perhaps? "Like what you see?" Ghost asked it, and the laughing picked up in full force, reverberating off the walls. The abomination seemed to come to a decision, as it nodded, and then continued its ascent up Ghost's face. It crawled up into his hair, then began crawling in reverse. It burrowed its way underneath Ghost's loose right eyelid, pincers first. Soap watched. It was all he could do to stop himself from retching as the centipede curled around inside the socket. Once it found where it evidently wanted to be, it buried itself into the walls of the cavity with a wet squelching. Rivulets of blood, macabre tears, fell from the corners of his eye as it settled. Then Ghost blinked. The eye flitted about the room, before landing on Soap. His cheek raised, his eye squinted. Ghost was smiling. The only indication of what he'd just witnessed was a single leg from the centipede that had been left protruding out from the far corner of the socket, nestled amongst Ghost's crows feet.

Only one thought found it's way to the forefront of Soap's mind. He shouldn't be able to see me. For a split second, with the giggling wrapping around him like a blanket made of wriggling centipedes, Soap felt inclined to turn his gun on the man he'd just come to save.

"Johnny?"

Soap shook himself. How dare he even entertain the thought of the man he so loved revered. Whatever they'd done to Simon, whatever he'd just witnessed, didn't matter. Rescuing Ghost was his one and only goal here. Whatever the bio weapon was, Soap was sure it was the cause of what he'd just witnessed.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry, sir. Told you, not feeling great." He forced an apologetic smile, feeling that despite the darkness and the fabric covering his face, Ghost would see it.

"Let's get you out of here, Sergeant." As if you're not the one in chains. Soap's resolve returned to him, and he reached back behind Ghost's head to unbuckle the muzzle. As he fiddled with it, however, he heard footsteps. Many footsteps.

"Soap, hide." Ghost ordered. But where? Soap finally took in the room around them, something he should have done upon entering. Jars and canisters were set upon open frame metal shelves. Saws, pliers, scalpels, and many other tools sat on a tray next to Ghost. The rest of the room was bare. He kicked himself for opting to remove the blindfold instead of the chains, at least if Ghost were free he'd have had extra hands to help fight.

A glow grew and shrank, then grew some more in the hallway. Someone was approaching with a flickering light. A flame lamp, or a torch of some sort. Soap tried to focus on the footsteps, determine how many men were out there, but the echo made it impossible to know. His only option was to hide behind the door he'd broken down, and hope he could overtake them. He knew he didn't have the element of surprise, they would have seen the picked locks and known that someone was down here. The outlook was bleak, but when was it not, in the 141? The odds were never in his favor, no need for things to be different now.

Shh shh... hmmmheeheh... shhhhh.....

A man entered the room and immediately swung his gun around the crooked door, aiming it at Soap. Instead of reaching for his own Gun, Soap forced himself against the door. The abused hinges gave, and he slammed the guy between the door and the wall. It had the desired affect of disorienting the others. He could see three other men in the hallway. He couldn't have them shooting into the room, it risked injuring Ghost, so he dove towards the group in the hopes that they'd engage in hand to avoid the risk of accidental friendly fire.

He was correct. All his assailants dropped their guns and reached for various other weapons, two grabbed knives, one, a tazer, and the fourth, the poor bastard who'd been pancaked against the wall, opted for his fists. Soap pulled his own knife once more, and set about taking out the enemy before him. He wasn't some rookie, Soap was an expert combatant, and could hold his own against multiple enemies. He still had his NVG's down, however, and the light from the flame lamp was bright, fucking up his ability to see. Pancake guy got a quick jab to his throat, he'd bleed out quickly and painfully. Shouldn't have brought fists to a knife fight.

One of the knife wielding assailants clearly didn't know what he was doing, as he swung the knife in a wide arch towards Soap. Soap grabbed the man by his arm and sent him careening into the other knife holder.

Tazer guy took the chance and slammed the tazer into Soap's side. It wasn't perfect contact, but it was enough to momentarily stun him. The knife wielders closed back in, one bearing down as the other swept his feet out from under him. Soap went down, brought his hands up to defend himself, but the lamp was so bright, he couldn't see quite what was happening. He managed to deflect the man to the side, but didn't get his hand out of the way. For a moment he felt pressure on his pinky and ring finger on his right hand, just above the first knuckles, but then just as quickly he felt nothing at all. Nothing but warmth.

He threw the man off of himself, tossed his own knife into his left hand, and sank it into the man he'd just thrown. Three quick jabs to the throat. Overkill, just for good measure. And revenge.

Soap scrambled back up, tazer guy and knife guy were bearing down on him again, and he found that he was back in the room with Ghost. They attempted a pincer maneuver, coming at him from both sides, so Soap lunged towards the man with the tazer, taking the hit to his armor plated chest where he wouldn't feel it, and tried to get his blade in the man's neck as well. The man feinted back and tripped, falling towards Ghost. Ghost seemed all too happy to join in, restrained or not.

AHAHHAHA HHHAAAHAHAHAH!

The laughing was outright deafening, and Ghost had joined in as he rested all of his body weight on the chains restraining him. He brought his legs up and wrapped them around the fallen man, who'd dropped his tazer. "Hahahahaaaa!"

HAHAHAHH AAHHAH AHAH HAHA!

This gave Soap the opportunity to take on the remaining man with a knife, stabbing his own into the man's arm, dragging him forward and dispatching him much as he had the rest.

He stood, turned towards Ghost to dispatch the fourth, and watched the fight bleed out of the man as Ghost used his thighs to choke the man to death. He scrabbled against the thick muscles enveloping his throat in vain. As he slumped, and Ghost let him go, Soap knelt down and forced his knife through the man's quickly bruising skin for good measure. A manic thought flitted through his mind, I wouldn't mind to die like that, Simon. Luckily he managed to keep that thought internal.

Ahah... heh... hhmmmhhmhmhmmm heh...

Soap brought up his right hand, and saw he had in fact just lost two fingers. He glanced around but didn't see them. The stumps throbbed and blood spurted out from them.

(Cheeky link to Ch. 5->) Ch. 5

#call of duty #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #fanfic #modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ao3 #cyoa poll #cyoa #horror #poll fic #choose your own adventure #tumblr polls #fanfic wip #cyoa fic

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imagine-darksiders · 2 years ago

Note

Here's a request, how would Strife and Samael react to accidentally seeing s/o naked for the first time? Like they are getting ready to bathe or something and thought they were alone. They didn't know anyone would be there, and when Strife/Sam do see them, s/o is oblivious. Like they realize very quickly "aw shit, s/o is cute...", Inner monologue stuff about s/o and their new feelings. I have a thing for pining. Real romance fluff with a suggestive hint. Nothing happens, this doesn't have to be nsfw if you don't want it to be. I just want your take on their reactions cause I think they would both range very differently. I chose those two cause they are my favorite. If you don't wanna do this one, that's ok too. I just really like your writing and how you interpret things. Thank you again.

Samael:

It's a common assumption among those who don't know him personally, that the Demon Prince, Samael, is a debauched and lascivious snake who would only relish in the chance to catch a human unawares.

It's a common assumption. But so often common is confused with correct.

He's a prince. Be that of Hell or Heaven or any realm in-between, he knows how to behave like a gentleman when needs be.

To his own surprise, he's found himself falling more and more into that courtly conduct ever since he managed to get his claws on the Horsemen's little human, swiped by his own claws right from underneath their noses.

'Nothing personal,' he'd told you while you thrashed and beat at the vast, scaly fingers wrapped around your torso, 'This is all tactics, you understand.'

With the Horsemen focusing all of their efforts into tracking you down – they've yet to work out that he's behind your disappearance – Samael is free to move his players across an unguarded chess board. A classic – if risky – slight of hand.

Oh, he imagines they'll try to kill him once they discover you hidden here in his fortress at Shadow's Edge, but that's hardly of any concern to a Prince of Hell. If he thought the Horsemen were a genuine threat, he wouldn't have provoked them by taking their precious, little human.

They won't be able to deny, when they eventually find you, that he's been nothing if not a most gracious host. You aren't a political enemy, after all, you're an innocent bystander in his game of cat and mouse.

He's placed you in one of the Eastern towers - under guard and lock and key, of course – where every amenity has been made available to you. A spacious chamber, adorned by a luxurious bed with silken, ruby-red sheets. An adjacent nook that boasts a king-sized bathing pool for you to maintain your hygiene....

If anything, you're less of a prisoner, and more of an unusual guest, though such 'special treatment' has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your affinity for story-telling far surpasses the talents of his own subjects.

All you have to do is recite Earthen fairy-tales to him, plots of films you can still remember, stories from the books you used to read at school, and every single one of them is eagerly eaten up by the demon Prince, specifically those that have happier endings.

Those very stories are the reason Samael finds himself striding down the corridor to your chambers now, with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the impressive claws at the end of each of his toes clicking sharply against a black-stone floor.

Last night, you'd half-finished a tale of a caterpillar with an absolutely voracious appetite, but you'd fallen asleep just before the most crucial climax. He'd half a mind to shake you conscious again and demand you tell him how the gluttonous little insect earns his downfall through hubris and greed, but in the end, he permitted you your scant few hours of fitful sleep.

Perhaps the ending you have in store will have been worth the wait...

The phantom guards posted outside your room snap to attention as he passes them by, though their master doesn't spare either of them so much as a fleeting glance, stepping leisurely up to the tattered, scarlet curtain that separates your chambers from the corridor outside.

And that's when he hears it - a sound so seldom heard in Hell, it actually startles the Prince into slowing his gait as his scowl comes undone, softening the deep-set creases carved between his brows.

He pauses at the curtain and twists an ear towards the noise...

... Music?

Slowly, he eases his crooked knuckles beneath the curtain and lifts it aside, hesitating for another moment to discern that his ears really aren't deceiving him. That's music he's hearing. More specifically, it's singing.

You are singing.

He's spoken with you enough times by now to recognise your voice in spite of the melodious notes of a song that drift into his ears from somewhere beyond the bed chamber.

But then, he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. Of all the denizens residing in his fortress, who among them is the most likely to burst into song other than the human?

Eyes of liquid fire scan the room and find it devoid of his prisoner, until they land upon the arched entrance that leads into the adjacent bathing quarters.

He recalls how you'd been stunned almost speechless the first time he showed you the enormous pool cut out of an obsidian floor.

He'd taken the liberty to drain it of lava before filling it up again with clean, un-poisoned water – a rare commodity in Hell, given the rate of its evaporation.

“Why?” you'd asked, squinting up at him dubiously.

Samael's face had remained perfectly set like the stone underfoot as he hummed his reply, “I assumed humans preferred to bathe in water. Not molten lava.”

That wasn't what you'd meant, and he knew it, but you'd been sensible enough not to look a gift demon in the mouth, as it were.

Lifting his nose to take a whiff of the air, Samael pads like a graceful predator across the chamber, following the sound of your voice.

Until the day comes when he no longer sits on the throne, he'll staunchly deny that his footsteps fall just a little more softly against the stone in his endeavour to remain unnoticed by the room's occupant.

Deftly, he manoeuvres around a scattering of garments that have been strewn haphazardly about the chamber, quirking one solid, scaly brow at them as he passes. 'Odd,' is all he muses.

Under normal circumstances, you're never seen without your flimsy attire.

Finding his curiosity piqued, Samael ducks his crooked horns and steals into the dark doorway, casting an eye languidly across the baths, only to freeze in his tracks, his whole body going utterly still from the horns on his head to the tip of his long, sweeping tail.

As if the singing weren't enough of a shock, you suddenly come dancing into view, swinging your hips to and fro like a pendulum. You're facing away from the doorway, thank the Void, but that's hardly what the demon Prince is focused on.

Standing there on the first step of the bath, bobbing your hips to the tune of your own song, he sees you.

All of you.

There isn't a shred of clothing present to preserve your modesty, no undergarments, nor a single strip of cloth, not a thread to your name.

Samael's silvery pupils dilate, expanding out of slits until they sit soft and round in his yellow eyes.

Rather perplexingly, he doesn't wheel himself backwards out of the entryway as soon as he registers your state of undress, though he chalks this up to being struck with simple, scientific curiosity at having stumbled upon a human in their most natural state.

Why, any second now, he's sure he'll feel that familiar wave of disgust surge up like bile and turn his stomach, because what is the human body if not a small, featureless sack of squelching meat?

Any second now...

Surely...?

Despite the weak-willed voice in the back of his head trying to convince him to turn away, the demon's eyes remain firmly adhered to you, and his ears twitch and flick towards the sound of your voice, anxious to catch every note you sing.

What is the human body...?

It's very.... gentle, he observes through a sudden haze that knocks him ever so slightly off-kilter.

A golden stare roll up the length of your legs, tracing the path of your spine and lingering on the back of your fragile neck.

There isn't a single, sharp edge to your body. No jagged horns or spines jutting through your skin, no tough and unforgiving scales to protect you from the elements, no natural weapons in the form of fangs or claws.

A body like yours was never intended to cause hurt.

What a flawed design.

What a brave design.

Before he can keep it at bay, a memory of Lilith pushes to the forefront of his mind – of her cruel lips that twist into a smirk and her hateful glares that try to poison his heart as she lays underneath him on their shared bed, claws like knives cutting into his scaly forearms to draw as much pain from him as she can, all in the name of 'making love.'

But what if....?

As the demon Prince gazes down at you, transfixed, the image of your naked body slips seamlessly in to replace Lilith's in his mind's eye. Her feral snarl gives way to something kinder, something sweeter, welcoming.

And suddenly, there you are, spread out in his Queen's place on the red, silken sheets, surrounded by the treasures he's draped you in during a wild and scandalous courtship. For the first time in his life, he doesn't want to ravage the body under his, though maybe he'd remind you that he could, if you'd only ask him to.

No. Perhaps, instead, you'll prop yourself up against the mountain of pillows he'd given you to nest in, and you'll cradle his head in your lap, your clawless fingers stroking gently up and down the space between his impressive horns as you tell him stories well into the night, listening to the crackle of the wall sconces together.

'Is that what it must be like?' he wonders, 'to take a lover who has no interest in power or status?' That must be what the stories mean, when they talk of love for love's sake.

Ah... But that kind of love has no place in Hell. The selfless kind. Altruistic. Here, one either loves to gain power, respect, and to rise through the social ranks, or one simply doesn't love at all.

In all the years he's sat on the throne of Hell, never once did he think he'd find himself so captivated by the sight of a human with no clothes on.

The leathery membrane folded between his wings starts to creak as they gradually spread open, driven by an ancient and well-buried instinct to appear bigger, stronger, more suitable than any other demon in the fortress...

He doesn't even notice that his tail has begun to sweep silently from side to side in perfect tandem with the swing of your hips.

Regardless of his imposing presence lurking just behind you in the doorway, you still don't seem to have noticed that you have an audience, and you likely would have gone on with your oblivious dance had the demon Prince not sabotaged himself moments later.

He never meant to do it. He's certainly never been caught doing it before, not even when he was trying to court an impassive Lilith.

Somewhere deep inside his almighty chest, the demon's muscles begin to quiver, pulsing together as they work to push a strange sound up through his throat - something between a contented hum and an unmistakable, mortifying purr.

You notice the sound before he does, but his reactions are sharper than your own.

Your song trails into uncertain silence, there's a whoosh of air and an enormous shadow flits backwards through the doorway just as you turn around to investigate, curling your arms around yourself in anticipation of finding a peeping-tom.

… The entrance is empty.

The Phantom guards scramble to attention when their master suddenly comes storming out of your chambers, his tail lashing like a whip and his mighty chest heaving in and out as if he's trying to stoke a fire in his lungs.

Gleaming fangs crush themselves together as he thunders aimlessly down the corridor, his only concern in distancing himself from the room of his prisoner.

What was that?

What the Hell was that!?

Of all the ridiculous, humiliating, puerile things for a Prince to do.

A purr...

A purr!

At his age! And one directed at a human no less.

He's Samael! Accuser, Seducer. Prince of Demons and Lord of Darkness. He's well above the feeble allure of the flesh.

... But it wasn't just your flesh that tempted him, was it?

Samael's lips curl to bare his teeth as he viciously swipes the thought away with another lash of his tail.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself resolutely. You hadn't seen him, nobody witnessed the event, you'll carry on none-the-wiser while he strikes the whole mishap from his memory.

The Horsemen will come and take you away, as he intended.

Yes... Just as he intended.

EDIT: Holy shift I just realised I got so caught up in Samael's story, I never wrote Strife's!!!!!!! I'm so sorry!!!!

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #samael #samael x reader #demon x reader #pining #big bad dreams of gentle love

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mysticmellowlove · 2 years ago

Text

yan streamer being delusional

a/n - bro i need someone to pick me up, tell me why i had three back to back assignments and it's the end of the semester. STOP PUTTING ALL THE ASSIGNMENTS AT THE END OF THE SEMESTER!!! also I'm getting there with the requests! swear to god I'll put more stuff out soon, i want to leave these stupid lab reports behind and get back to fucking submissive men.

warnings; gn reader pronouns, yandere behaviour, yandere streamer, yandere male, sub yandere, kinda a joke but not really, not edited at all

word count; 1544

If fifteen year old you were to look into the future you probably wouldn't have liked what you saw. As a freshly graduated student with a bachelor's degree the whole world expected you to be some professional business partner but here you were... modding for a popular twitch streamer.

In all honesty it wasn't that bad, and the environment around job hiring was insane at the moment anyway. You wouldn't have been able to find a job even if you tried. The streamer paid well enough, especially considering all you had to do was flag underhanded and inappropriate comments. It was lucrative... for someone who didn't have a home loan to pay off.

A sigh left your mouth as you watched the chat scroll by. You had been watching this guy before you even got a job underneath him, sometimes background noise was good while you were studying. His content had taken a turn from those quiet streams where he talked about daily life to what he was doing now though. Now he was much more popular and he played only the newest games.

Did you wish sometimes he would go back and check up on his old game profiles? Yes. Did you care enough to suggest that to him? No. Life moves on.

Your eyes trained on a particular comment, distasteful as usual, and you got rid of it. Flagging and banning the commenter so your streamer could look into it later.

"Thank you Sugar." Your lips pursed. The job pated well, the content was interesting and you didn't have to leave your home. The chat filled up with heart emojis and kissy face emojis. Some of them were even customised to look like your discord profile picture (designed by the other person who had seen it; the streamer himself).

There was just one downside, both the streamer and his chat were weirdly into you. Or you as a mod you guessed. Still, you didn't mind it, at least not usually. Human interaction was good, even if it was through a screen.

The rest of his stream went well, thanks to the effort of you and the other mods. As soon as the screen had closed you pushed your chair make and groaned as your stretched your muscles out. It was pretty late and you were kinda hungry. There was a little restaurant that stayed open later than usual on the ground floor of the apartment building you lived in but the quality was questionable.

After deciding that your stomach was going to eat itself you threw on a jacket and grabbed your wallet before leaving the apartment. It would be nice to get some furniture soon. University debt couldn't last forever right?

As soon as you left your apartment the sound of someone coming down the stairs made you turn your head. The exact second you looked at them though your head snapped back to your door. Eyes wide, mouth open... that was the streamer! Your mind ticked, did he live here! In this shoddy building with the rates too high for what it was? But he was... relatively well off. His room was decked out in those fancy led lights and he had a really comfy-looking chair. His PC set up was apparently wild from the small glimpses you had gotten and yet he lived here. In the same building as you did.

It was in that moment that something clicked in your mind, people had lives outside of the internet. A resolute nod made you finally leave your doorway and join him on the trek downstairs. Half the time on the way down you wondered in he thought you were trailing him, the other half was spent wondering if he was hungry too.

There was no way he knew it was you though. You were faceless online and even though you knew him there was no way anyone would peel that information from you.

"Hey, I like your sweater." Your face went white as you saw him stop at the bottom of the stairs, a boyish smile on his face. Your sweater... his merch. Your lips pressed into a thin line, the world was playing with you today. You cracked your knuckles, this could go two ways.

"Yeah, haha... nice stream tonight boss man." His eyes widened. Tonight was just supposed to be you getting off from work and then grabbing some food. You had an interview tomorrow and yet here you were revealing yourself to your employer.

"You're one of my mods! It's nice to meet you in person, I can't believe I live in the same building as one. You getting food as well?" You guessed it wasn't all bad. Talking with him like this reminded you of his old streams, when he had only a couple hundred viewers.

"Yeah, crazy right." You commented as the two of you made your way to the restaurant. Since it was so late at night there wasn't a line to get take away so you made it through in record time. In the restaurant and even on the way up you chatted with the streamer until he basically dropped you at your door.

Before you went inside he asked you one more question, which one of his mods were you. After you have him the answer and watched him walk away you went inside and began to eat. Today wasn't as bad as you thought after all.

His door slid shut with an audible click as he gently rested his food on the counter. What were the chances that he'd meet his favourite person of all time tonight? His beloved mod, Sugar. A short wheeze left his mouth as his smile spread into a wide grin.

He didn't know what it was about you but just getting to know you before he hired you made him feel giddy. You two were a match made in heaven. You had wit, jokes and a kind side as well. Basically you were everything he had ever wanted and more.

And you lived in the same building as he did.

Now he had an excuse to talk to you outside of the work you did for him, he'd be able to get to know you better. Maybe he'd even manage to make you fall in love with him just as he had for you. Just thinking about it made his heart flutter and his blood run hot. His cheeks grew warm as he forgot all about his late night dinner. Instead, he wobbled over to his couch and fell onto it.

Your profile picture had been of a stereotypical soft edit, a practical joke from your friends that you hadn't bothered to change. He was ashamed to admit that he had jerked off to the picture before, sometimes he even took your chats out of context and used them to fuel his fantasies.

But, you looked nothing like how he thought you would. He was expecting some sort of catfish who went onto discord to try and get middle-aged men to give them money (he hadn't minded that fantasy either, there was something so hot about not being able to freely do anything without your partner's permission.) but you were completely different.

You were a burnt-out graduate just like he was.

Soon he found his hand resting on the outside of his underwear, pretending it was your hand. Would you be soft and embody your online persona or would you be so pent up that you used him to your content? His hand tightened in response to his thoughts, sending a wave of pleasure right to his stomach.

A short groan left him as he closed his eyes and stroked. He pulled his clothes down and circled his tip, trying to keep his hips still as he envisioned you sitting before him.

He finally had a face to the name and now his imagination was running wild. Was your skin unblemished? Did you have tattoos, what was the colour of your underwear. His heart beat faster as he realised he'd finally be able to find all these things about you out. You lived on the floor below him, he could sneak in anytime he wanted!

Maybe he'd take some of your clothes, dress himself up in them and pretend that you were making him parade around as some sort of doll. Did you own any toys? He'd take those two and revel at the closeness. You had used them on yourself...

He swallowed, it was getting harder to breathe. His hand worked furiously on his cock, the sensation more punishing than pleasurable. Surely that was what you would do if you found out about all the dirty things he had thought of you doing to him.

As soon as he had started he found himself cumming. His mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the pleasure rocked through his whole body while he came down from his high. As soon as he was able to calm himself down he shut his eyes and grinned.

This was going to be fun.

#sub yandere #sub male #yandere male #yan streamer #gn reader

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slippedtheknot · 1 year ago

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Training Session

Leader steps back; keeping his fighting stance as Whumpee's fists waver. Surprisingly, Whumpee is tired today. Leader just assumes that he mustn't have gotten enough sleep.

Still, when training, Leader makes it a point to make the fight as realistic as possible. So, instead of giving Whumpee some room, he strikes.

And he strikes hard.

Whumpee crumples in half and raises his gloved fist in submission. "Okay, okay you win..." He says as he starts wheezing.

Leader backs up and removes his mitts. "Hey, I'm sorry kid. I didn't think I hit that hard."

He tries to move Whumpee's hands from his ribs but Whumpee shakes his head. "No, no Leader I'm fine, okay? I just...I'm fine."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Leader grabs Whumpee's left wrist to tug away but Whumpee rips his arm away.

"I said I'm fine." He glares at Leader.

"Whumpee, if you refuse to have me look at you, I will call in Teammate to hold you down while I get Medic to look at you."

"Then do it."

Leader lets out a long and irritated sigh. "Fine."

He slips his arm underneath Whumpee's knees and one under his back. Almost immediately Whumpee starts to retaliate.

"Put me down, Leader. I'm fine."

"Uh huh, keep telling me that bud." Leader takes a left, walks down a familiar hallway, and into a door on the right. They drop Whumpee onto the plush comforter and turn his head over his shoulder. "Hey, Medic and Teammate get in here!"

Medic grabs her med kit from the bathroom and speed walks to Whumpee's room. Teammate walks up from behind her.

"What does he need?" Teammate asks once he catches sight of Medic's med kit in her hand. "And why does Leader need me?"

"I don't know, but I assume he's hurt. Why he needs you I don't know." Medic and Teammate turn into Whumpee's room. Leader looks over his shoulder at them and grins.

"Perfect...Teammate come over here and hold his shoulders." Teammate strides over to the bed to find Whumpee glaring up at him.

"Hey listen, I wouldn't do this to you if you paid my bills." Teammate put a small smile on to try and lighten the mood, but Whumpee simply turns his attention away from Teammate and to Leader.

Leader grabs the hem of Whumpee's shirt, "Medic, come here."

Medic walks to his side with her med kit in hand. Leader lifts the rest of Whumpee's shirt to reveal a long, slender wound going up and down Whumpee's ribs. Most blood on it was dry, but Leader could see where some blood was leaking out.

"Really, Whumpee? This is nothing?" Leader spits out. Medic springs into action to start by cleaning the wound and Leader walks away from Medic to let her focus. Instead, Leader starts to pace around Whumpee's room. He stops at the door of Whumpee's closet and starts to dig around.

"Hey hey, that's my stuff Leader." Whumpee tries to sit up, but gets pushed down by Teammate. "Leader!"

"Was this it?" Leader grabs one of Whumpee's shirts. There's a dried up blood stain that goes from Whumpee's ribs to the end of the shirt. "This was the shirt you were wearing wasn't it?"

"I-"

"Whumpee, I swear, you better not lie to me." Leader shook the shirt in the air.

"So what if it was?"

"How could I not have noticed this?" Leader mumbles to himself.

"None of us did, Leader," Teammate looks over to him.

Medic nods in agreement as she starts to stich Whumpee up. Leader looks directly at Whumpee and starts to walk over. "Who did this?"

Leader gives the shirt another shake in front of Whumpee's face. "Whumpee, tell me right now, who did this?"

"Who do you think?" Whumpee leans his head back, and closes his eyes.

#whumpee #whump things #whump writing #whump community #whump blog #whump stuff #recovery #stiches #hidden injury #hidden wound #team #team dynamics #medic #teammate #leader

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peachyloveswriting · 2 years ago

Note

I absolutely loved the way you wrote Wolfwood on the abducted by aliens post, thank you so much for writing my request out! I love your writing

Also i think the way you wrote the reader was amazing and exactly what i was thinking of!

If it isn’t asking too much may i request another writing with Wolfwood and Gn cold reader maybe a second part perhaps? Where both Nicolas and reader get more closer and it so happens one of them confess.

Tysm!

ONLY GETTING WARMER FROM HERE --- wolfwood

SUMMARY: For the first time you feel lost on what to say. No one's ever been so brash about something like this or brought out these feelings within you.

Notes: got lazy at the end

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

"Thanks for dinner Nick." The fork clatters with the plate when you set it down. Nick looks up through his brows, his two fingers tease the butt end of the cigarette against his lips. He offers you a smug grin. "No problem."

You huff. "Better than eating worms." As you've been doing ever since you began traveling with this strange man. A week of traveling through the desert has finally landed you in civilization. Today was the first time you've had a real meal in a while. Not to criticize Nick's cooking or anything.

"I got us a room." Gathering his cross from beside him, he stands.

"Hmm." You stand after him. Placing his cigarette between his lips he offers a hand to you. His hand is very tempting to grab, like you should let him lead you wherever but you brush him off and walk outside. He's following shortly afterwards, soon enough he takes the lead. You follow him wordlessly, just observing him from behind. Nick has come clean about his occupation as 'the punisher' the name itself you find rather cool, but the backstory that came with it not so much. This has only further grown your interest in the man.

The Inn comes into view and Nick opens the door for you. "I got us one room. It's got two beds. Nothing too flashy so don't get excited."

You give him a glance and push forth towards the rooms. Before reaching the hall and stairs you slow to let Nick take the lead. "Just one room?" You question as he walks past you and up the stairs. You're surprised his cross hasn't thrown him down yet.

"Like I said it's nothing special." He stops at the very last room in the upper hallway and picks the keys from his pocket. "Figured it's better than sleeping in the sand all squashed up against a guy you hardly know." Taking the key back out he pushes the door open.

Pushing past him into the room, you take a look around. "I quite liked being squished against said man." Your eyes slide over the beds. "The other part, not so much." They're two small singles. Nothing but small, plain, sheets lay over them. It doesn't compliment the room much. Taking the one on the most right, you sit down on the stuff bed and fall onto your back with a sigh.

"You what?" A small click follows his words. You pick your head up to see he lean the cross against the wall.

"I didn't mind sleeping with you." You fully sit up. Nick looks at you surprised, his brows raised high on his forehead and the tips of his ears tinted red. He stares at you dumbfounded, his mouth opening but not speaking. Snapping his mouth shut he raises his hands to pull off his suit. The button up underneath loosely hangs off his body, accentuating the muscles in the parts that touch. You find yourself mindlessly staring. He's like a piece of eye candy and seeing him dressed down in anything less than normal is enough to say your face ablaze.

"If you're saying you want to lay with me tonight. I wouldn't mind it." His fingers find and undo the buttons of his shirt while he makes eye contact with you. The lower his hands go the more of his bare skin that becomes exposed. Your eyes follow all the way down to the last button and drink in every mark and divit. "Will ya quit staring? You're embarrassing me." He mumbles.

When you look back up at his face the cigarette from before is long gone, discarded in the ashtray beside his bed. "Well, I did say you were hot. I meant that."

His shirt falls to the floor, leaving his chest fully exposed. The muscles on his chest and arms are bigger than you expected. Probably from carrying that cross around all the time "I didn't think, you... nevermind. You make it really hard for me to not feel something for you."

A strange ache builds in your heart while it pounds in your ears. You can't look away from him now. Not with the way he has your stomach doing flips. It feels so sickly sweet, like something out of a fairy tail. Nothing should ever feel like that, right. If so, this was very new.

"You, feel for me?" It feels wrong asking him that. But the words are foreign in your mouth. You never thought you'd see the day that you'd fall for someone. Especially him. Nicholas is hot, there's no doubt about that but he's attractive in other ways too. It wasn't clear at first what feelings were bubbling inside your chest but it's now become clear.

"I do. Something about you is attractive to me. I'm not sure what but I like you. I do." He admits.

Everything about his runs so much deeper than he lets on. Something about that must have pulled you in. You like the fact that you don't know everything about him, but you also like how open he is with you. But for him to say something like that about you feels like a dream.

"You're being serious. Right?" You feel weary. Like what he's saying just might not be true.

"Of course." He leans down onto the bed and chuffles under the covers. "But I'm tired. We can talk about this in the morning."

Looking away and at the ground, you sigh. He's just as tired as you. This is your first night in a real bed after so long without one. You're just glad to have this. Standing and clicking off the lamp, you dress out into your last layer of clothes. A short sleeved shirt and shorts. Your mind is racing when you climb into the bed, you can't keep still. After all those nights in the desert with Nick, it feels wrong to be sleeping on your own. Even if you ask to sleep with him that feels just wrong. Especially after what he just admitted. That doesn't sooth your racing mind and sleep evades you.

"Nick." Your voice sounds so long among the silence and when it returns to that you feel disappointed. His bedsheets suddenly shift.

"Yeah?" He turns to look at you. You're laying on your back staring emptily up at the ceiling. "Can't sleep?" He doesn't even have to listen to you say anything to know your answer. He can see it in the way frustration settles in your face. Though it's uncommon to see you feel anything as an outward emotion.

You turn your head to look at him. With a small smile he moves over in the bed and lifts the blanket. He nods his head to the empty spot beside him. "Well, c'mon. I'm not waiting all night."

Warmth blooms in your chest. Happily throwing your blankets off of you, you climb over into his bed. Already, just settling in you can feel his heat. It makes that unsettled itch in your head begin to leave. "Thank you." You murmur as you grow comfortable in the spot you lay.

Nick settles the blanket over you and rests on his side, facing you. "You're gonna kill me one of these days."

"Huh?"

He shakes his head with a sigh. "Might as well get it over with." You look up at him in confusion before his gaze meets yours. "If we're gonna sleep together, might as well be together. Right?"

This is the first time this has ever happened to you, so what your answer might be, you don't know. All you can do is look up at him in confusion. "I don't know."

Suddenly you feel his hand slide onto your waist, he pulls you closer to him. "I mean, would you just date me?"

"I," for the first time you honestly feel lost on what to say. Nick has done many things for you, got food, offered you safety, a place to sleep and so much more. He's a kind man, to you at least. This is all so new to you though. "Why do I feel this way?"

"What way?" He can feel the embarrassment creeping up on him.

"So lost but sure at the same time. I don't understand what I'm feeling but I know it's good. But what do I do?" You shake your head.

Nick laughs above you. "You're so precious." Taking his hand he lifts it to your cheek. "Lemme try something." Before you can answer his lips are against yours. It's chaste and as quick as it started it finished. It leaves your stomach churning and heart pounding in your chest.

"Did you like that?" He asks.

"Yeah."

He chuckles again. "That means you should say yes."

"So, should I date you?"

He nods his head. "That's up to you. But I hope it's yes."

#wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #Nicholas wolfwood x reader #vash x you #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader

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finn-m-corvex · 1 year ago

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Okay now that I'm finally achieving coherence I am going to put all of my thoughts for Pt. 2 under this cut so HEAVY SPOILER WARNING!

We're definitely going back to the Land of Lost Things at some point, probably S2; they left WAY too much stuff open in that particular area. I'm starting to get a picture of how it might work and if I'm right I'm going to be thrilled.

Geo and Fritz and Spitz must still be there, and we know Cole isn't going to leave them behind, so at some point after grabbing Jay from the Administration (bc let's be so real that is what Wu is telling him to do) they're going to come back and try to figure out what's going on there. The fact that Imperium knows about it implies that either they were in the same realm OR Imperium had inter-realm travel via dragons, which could mean that:

Imperium -> The Wyldness -> The Land of Lost Things were all the SAME.

So why would Cole of all people end up there?

But wait.

If Jay ended up in the Administration, and Nya also ended up in the Realm of Madness, was Jay trying to go after Nya?

So I have a bit of a crackpot theory, but it's going to try and explain what happened to Zane, Jay and Cole AND why Cole and Zane already had the DR suits, because it's already been well-established that the DR suits mean that they have come into contact with someone before.

Let me paint you a picture:

Zane, Jay and Cole wake up either all together or they find each other, but they also end up in the tunnels underground after trying to find the source of the earth screaming that Cole described. Traveling through the tunnels, they come across the Monastery underground and attempt to activate it with Jay’s powers, but the Adminstration show up and everything goes to hell.

Jay is captured and taken back to the Administration, Zane is deactivated with his memory wiped and locked in the pod underneath Imperium because the agents don't feel like dealing with the "nindroid interfering with our plans paperwork" and Cole is the only one to escape. He picks a random tunnel and runs without looking back, he already knows that his brothers are gone and he needs to find help, but it's too late; he exits the tunnel in the Land of Lost Things, and he can't leave.

He doesn't know where Jay is and his powers can't locate Zane, and Cole knows that he's failed. He can't fail these kids and Geo too.

Until Nya finds out that the Administration was right there; if she had just chosen a different way to go, looked harder, done something then Jay would've been saved. She wouldn't have been alone.

Cole’s guilt when he realizes that he is the one being sent to find Jay when he knows it should be Nya, or anyone else really, because why would Wu pick the one who wasn't strong enough to keep Jay safe to save him?

I have so many thoughts guys.

#ninjago #finn...themself?#ninjago jay #ninjago nya #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago dragons rising spoilers #ninjago spoilers

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eegasleega-will-change-this-l8r · 1 year ago

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-OUR FOUNDER-

⚙ THE CHAIRMAN ⚙ OF COGS INCORPORATED EST. 2003 ---------------------------------

So I've never talked about this on here before, but Toontown was one of my absolute FAVORITE games as a kid (despite never having membership so being locked out of 99% of the actual game jlkjfsakj) Like it was absolutely formative for me, I drew the cogs a bajillion times and they inspired a ton of my own stuff later on (and still absolutely do) Then the game closed and Rewritten came out so I could actually play the whole game for the first time (haven't gotten anywhere close to getting to the end though) To this day I have an on again off again interest where once or twice a year I'll suddenly get absolutely smitten with it again haha

So, if you're also into Toontown, you'll obviously be familiar with the mysterious, unseen overarching villain The Chairman This is my own take on his design that I came up with a few years back ^^

We don't have much to go off of from the original game for what the Chairman might've been like, so I had a couple of different inspirations

Obviously the giant head in the Sellbot Factory, since those old Chairman pics with that head pasted onto a cog body were absolutely what I was most exposed to as a kid, but it's also not a 1:1 lift

In some of my earliest sketches trying to come up with the ideal design I tried making him look like he had the giant robot from the old installer video underneath his suit, so he had like lanky, cartoonish proportions, toonier hands, etc It looked really bad though and I couldn't do what I wanted with the head since it would've had to fit over the shorter, wider robot head, so I just ended up scrapping it (i do take some inspiration from the video for my vision of Toontown's story, but i've just scrapped the robot entirely) Oh I also gave him the eyes from the Field Office since I thought that could be neat, but it looked out of place so I simplified them to what he has now (they're still stylistically similar to the eyes on regular cog buildings, so i don't think i'm really losing any of the meaning behind them at least)

By far the biggest inspiration was when the FY11 plans got released

Holy FUDGE did this blow my mind when I saw it for the first time All those years as a kid of the Chairman not even being ACKNOWLEDGED except by the CEO's final words and a couple odd references in obscure magazines and whatever Desperately speculating and grasping onto all those tiny pieces of some mysterious, horrifically evil entity behind everything And then this??? This awesome, ominous silhouette?? Plans for something huge??? Seeing it is what drove me to go and draw him in the first place, it still gives me chills just looking at it

So yeah, I wanted mine to have that same aura of cold evil, that striking silhouette, while also having a bit more character to him Like most cogs are frozen in the same screwed up scowl, where there's not much room for expression If I could, like, make an actual model for him, I'd want him to have the same sort of capacity for different expressions as the toons have (even some you wouldn't expect from the head of the cogs)

He's ruthless, calculating, doing everything he can to maximize the profits and efficiency of Cogs Inc and expand their operations to the entirety of Toontown, with no regard for ethical business practices or the wishes of the people he plans to subjugate (But does it work? Is he happy?)

I'm absolutely gonna do an analysis of the cogs as a whole at some point (as long as my interest doesn't plummet for a little while longer), there's a ton of stuff I wanna get into about my interpretation of them as villains because oh my god I love them so much

OTHER STUFF - He's not as massive as the other boss cogs, but he's still absolutely huge (iirc the highest level cogs are all canonically like 8ft?? and he's got a LOT of height on them) - He's drinking oil in the pencil drawing - I happened to watch this video where one guy talked about the way the villain in Tarzan held a glass of wine and how it left a huge impression on him, so I just arbitrarily decided to emulate it in my drawing XD - Oh yeah a big reason for the main drawing in the post was that I really felt like I was getting too attached to a single style in my digital stuff (literally just using the same default pen tool for everything, never changing the size), so I wanted to force myself to try something new - I drew the frame myself, just kinda winged it so it's. not as good as it could be but it works fine I think

#toontown #cogs #the chairman #emilyart #emilyramblings #uhh so this is a pretty big departure from my usual MOTHER stuff #hope it's not too offputting #i've got a really cute porky thing i've been working on but i'm struggling with one of the poses ><#will be done soon hopefully #oh yeah so i've played a lot of rewritten which is definitely my favorite toontown thing #captures the old feel that i love while wayyy surpassing the original #and they really nailed the new cog designs they revealed a while ago office clerk my beloved #AND THAT CHAIRMAN TEASER FROM THE FIELD OFFICE UPDATE OFJOEIWJK #i love what clash brings to the table and how much it's gone above and beyond to create a whole new experience but it's not really my thing #totally different chairman interpretation from what i'm used to but man he's hilarious #i'll dig up some of my original sketches for the chairman at some point it'd be fun to see that process

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doin-just-fine · 1 year ago

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What the brain doin?? PT. 4 of a questioning median system's journey

"A very distinct Co-Con moment"

CW: Talks about bringing younger alters up to speed on when and where they are and them being slightly upset by it. Mentions feelings that fit with depersonalization.

I, DoinFine, am always in front, I am never not fronting, so I don't really have memory gaps. For everyone else, they usually just co-con and I'm not sure how their memory is effected yet.

Yesterday I was mindlessly scrolling on tik tok when I happened across this video. I read it and thought, "it's 6 pm it's not bed time yet lol." and as I was about to scroll I stopped. I felt super stimmy in a good way and I played along. At the end of the little video I felt super proud of myself, while at the same time I felt like I was leaning back and watching myself do this, just casually observing. I noted it and moved on. A little while later another video popped up. This one had some kick. I played along and again at the end I felt super proud of myself for playing but also like I was observing this occurrence, fascinated by it.

After finding a couple more videos like that and getting really excited about certain options in the videos and stuff, I just hung out in this childlike feeling for a second.

I've noticed that when Cloud co-cons, we look around the room a lot. Almost like we're getting our bearings as to the environment we're in. However, we never feel like we're lost or confused about where we are and I think this is because I'm always in front and know where I am. When someone joins me the information I have is also given to them so we don't feel freaked out, but they are still taking in the new environment, hence them looking around.

As I sat there with this younger feeling, we started looking around the room. I thought about the concept mentioned above and wondered if thats what was happening. IMMEDIATELY I felt a quiet thought, beneath my observing thoughts, saying/feeling things along the lines of, "I don't know this place, this isn't my room, I don't know where I am." It was strange. It felt like a mix of being confused and a little frightened not knowing or, better yet, not understanding where I was while also knowing exactly where I am, how I got there and why I was there.

I got the sense that if I hadn't thought about my looking around the room theory, they wouldn't have noticed that they didn't actually know where they were, and that only I did. Oh well. They didn't panic too much they felt more confused than anything. I kinda gave a mental tour of where we were and offered visiting the garden as a distraction, which they liked.

I was toying with the idea that this just might be me just age regressing to relax after a long day of fun, kid friendly, things (we went to the beach and swam around). However, as we stood up someone (idk which one of us) noted that "whoa the floors farther away than usual." Now, I would have just written this off as being part of my vertigo (despite it feeling nothing like vertigo). The only reason I didn't is because I remembered what my partner's kiddo's say when they front. They always mention how tall they feel in the body. That they are expecting a shorter point of view when they stand up.

In that moment from being underneaths my bed covers to standing and being confronted with my size, I understood exactly what they have been talking about. So I started treating this like a co-con kiddo.

We went downstairs and we were about to go to the garden when we heard my cat's collar jingle behind me. I was excited because what kiddo doesn't love petting a cat, right? So I thought about which cat was following behind. As I imagined my tuxedo short hair, I started feeling wrong. So I checked in with my passenger, if you will, to see what was wrong.

Doing this check in felt almost like an emotional self check in when you ask yourself "Ok, where is this emotion coming from" and you see if it's being brought on by a trigger or trauma or insecurity.

I paused and checked in "whats wrong" and then I waited. Usually in the self check in example above you kinda retrace the steps of the emotion yourself. I made sure not to do that here, it almost felt like my co-pilot did it instead, like I was doing it but next to myself?

The conclusion as to why the thought of my tuxedo short hair made the co-pilot feel wrong was because they didn't know that cat. This shocked me. I've had my tuxedo cat for somewhere around 12 years and he's my best friend. Whoever my co-pilot was pre-dated 2010, making them 10 or younger. When I checked in to see which cat they thought it was they thought of a taby cat, I've met a couple taby cats in my time so I ran through a list of the ones we've bonded with, and they landed on one of my childhood cats who passed away when I was around 7. All this communication happened in seconds by the way in a hydraconsious sort of way (as if reading and responding to each others thoughts, which are a combo of visual, emotion based, conceptual, and "verbal" or word thoughts, while still remaining two different consciousnesses)

I had to then inform the kiddo that this pet was no longer around. That was heart breaking to do. As a result they were informed of all the other new and past pets. I could feel that it upset them to learn this, but we continued to the garden to distract from all the new upsetting updates they were receiving.

Thoughts and feelings while in the back yard get a little fuzzy. I just remember noting that this kiddo felt like they had more influence over the front than anyone else that has co-con'd before. At one point we were just staring at the house and I noted feeling like I was the one co-con to the little one. They were in control of the body and what we did. Luckily, I don't think the little one even noticed, cared, or knew what to do with being in that position so we just kinda stood there and zoned out for a little bit.

As we explored the garden for a bit I could feel the co-con fading in and out. The vibes around my house have not been the most fun so I think the kiddo was getting nervous. I was fascinated by this whole experience and didn't want it to end so I took us inside and started making our comfort food and put on some Bluey. Bluey kinda worked and kinda didn't work on keeping them co-con because I also enjoy Bluey on my own and I don't think this facet has ever watched Bluey before. I probably should have put on something from my childhood like The Muppet Show or something if I wanted them to closer to the front. Maybe I'll do that next time.

While watching Bluey I usually let the first episode I watch's intro run all the way through and then I'll skip it on the rest of the episodes. This time I didn’t do that and it's only in hindsight that I'm noticing this.

The first run of the intro felt like DoinFine jamming to it. The second run through felt like a shy observation and practice run, counting out the beats like we were engaging with it for the first time. The third run through of the intro was full little one, we closed our eyes and imagined ourselves in our living room. As a kid at the end of certain movies (typically with banger sound tracks) I would get up and dance to the credits. So, we imagined ourselves dancing like that to the Bluey intro and that was quite an interesting experience. The kiddo went from hanging back a bit to pushing me to co-con so fast. From there, they went back to side lining and eventually they left because we had to make conversation with people.

That was the most powerful sense of co-coning I have had so far. It was very interesting.

Does this line up with anyone else’s experience?

As usual asks are open!!

#What the brain doin #median system #actually median #questioning median system #questioning system #system #actually plural #plurality #plural community #neurogenic #little #median co-con #first co-con #fronting #median fronting #median system fronting

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