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angel-of-the-moons · 6 months

Note

Could you do some possessive Baraka x reader? :)

BOY CAN I

Mine

Baraka x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, SMUT, Jealous!Baraka, sex, voyeurism (?), exhibitionism (?) unprotected sex, feral/predator, primal sex, biting (c'mon we've all seen this man's teeth), blood play (sort of), breeding kink, slight Kanon fudging for plot reasons

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩

You were his prized possession, an Edenian who wanted to learn more about Tarkatan culture and customs. Who better to learn from than the leader of the clans, Baraka, who had the good graces of Kitana Kahn?

You studied them well. From your tiny village, you'd only ever heard stories of them, or encountered the occasional raiding tribe that tried (and failed) to pillage your homes.

You knew they were nomadic, that much was a given considering how rarely your own people interacted with them.

But you always wanted to know more. Now that Kitana Kahn brokered a peace with them, you pleaded, as an imperial scribe, to study them. (And oh, boy, learning about the Ritual of Blood was very interesting.)

She agreed, believing that the people learning about one another would bring everyone closer together.

Little did she know that it would bring you and Baraka together as well.

You found out about the so-called Time Merger, what Kotal Kahn had done to his people, and what the Titan Kronika promised him in return. In spending long hours listening, conversing... Until it morphed into him glancing at you longer and longer. Imagining how your soft flesh would be so pliant in his large, leathery hands. How sweet you would taste.

It made him salivate at the thought of tasting you.

It started out with the courting rituals, bringing you freshly hunted meat, weapons, muttering soft, raspy words in his native tongue.

You had a few relationships in your long life, but none ever lasted long.

Whereas many were hesitant, or reserved, Baraka pledged himself to you wholly, "proving" he was good enough to be your mate.

And... Yeah. You gave in to his passion, so intense that your mind could barely catch up. More than once that passion wound up with you having gravel and sand embedded in your knees, bits of desert scrub clinging to your hair as he pounded into you from behind, grooves and scratches in your skin where he'd grazed you with his claws and fangs.

Sex with a Tarkatan? Intense was the tamest word you could use to describe it. Feral was one of the others. It was rough, primal, full of pure animalistic need to not make love, but to mate; to claim you. And you'd be lying if you tried to deny it and say you didn't enjoy it.

At least a little...

The marks he would leave on you, he would go on to explain, were to ensure other Tarkatans would not dare make a move on you. However, those outside of their tribe didn't understand. Yeah, explaining to Kitana Kahn what the marks meant was... awkward to say the least.

Where Tarkatans knew to leave you be, other Outworlders and Earthrealmers did not. Males especially would gaze at you with lust-filled eyes and stand far too close for his liking.

It was after one such situation, where an envoy was sent to administer some supplies as a gesture of goodwill to the tribe that Baraka was particularly set off.

One of the men in the group decided to flirt with you, lean in and give cheap compliments in hopes of getting you out of your clothes, to sneak away for a moment of unsatisfying carnal want.

He knew you were loyal, but something about the way that you smiled and genuinely laughed at one of his jokes had Baraka seething with rage. He could feel the blades in his arms flex and shift, wanting to rend the flesh from that soft, weak little man's body.

But he waited until the man's feeble attempts at courtship ended, before he dragged you off the moment the sky blackened and stars twinkled high above.

"Baraka! What--?" You were interrupted by a deep snarl; and Baraka pinned you against a boulder, inhaling deeply your scent. A mixture of his musk and the scented oils you fancied. But now, it was tainted by that foul man's stench.

It was like silt and mud staining a perfectly glassy pool in a desert oasis. He would not tolerate it.

"I can smell him on you." His gravelly voice tumbles out against your skin, his hot breath and bits of saliva dripping onto your shoulder.

"I don't like it."

You barely had a moment to think before his hands gripped the front of your tunic, and with a hard tug, ripped it right down the front, exposing your breasts to the cooling night air.

"Baraka! Someone will see us!" You hiss at him, moving to cover yourself, looking around in a panic.

It was one thing for him to pin you down and fuck you somewhere secluded, hidden, or even in his own tent...

But you were far too close to the camp and the envoy for your liking.

"Let them see. They need to know you are mine." He snarled, pinning your hands on either side of your head as he leaned in once more, scraping his jagged fangs over the flesh of your throat.

He licked at your skin, briefly, before moving up to your lips and shoving his tongue inside mercilessly, threatening to choke you out of your oxygen. For added measure, he took your bottom lip in his teeth and bit hard enough to puncture and cause a small rivulet of blood to drip down your chin, making you whine as he licked it up, before shoving his tongue back inside your mouth to tangle with your own; the sweet, coppery flavor of your blood invading your taste buds.

He pulled away, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva to mix with your blood as his hands fell to your hips, gripping you tight, the spikes on his arms tearing into the soft fabric of your dress as he tugged slightly.

You could hear the seams ripping beneath his claws as he did this.

You let out a gasp when he parted your thighs with his knee, and he grabbed your hand, forcing you to palm his fattening cock that hung beneath his trousers.

"I will make sure they know you belong to me. That you're mine." He said to you.

You felt your mouth water and your cunt flutter at the promise of having him inside of you.

You could see spittle dribble down his chin as his nostrils flared, his red-gold eyes focusing on you with all their intensity.

"I can ssssssmell you." He said, his voice rumbling lowly and hotly against your throat.

He shoved his hand beneath your skirt, chuckling madly when he discovered nothing beneath, feeling how wet you were already.

"Hrrr." Baraka hissed. "Don't lie to me. You've been wanting this all day."

You tipped your head back, biting your lip hard to stifle your moans as Baraka teased your folds, wetting his hand before he forced two of his fingers inside of you, mindful of his claws as he curled and twisted them, stretching you out.

"Be a good girl for me." He hissed, abruptly pulling himself free and aggressively licking his fingers clean while staring directly into your eyes.

You whimpered, then, when he gripped your hips and spun you around with dizzying force, his hand between your shoulders, forcing you down until you were practically bent in half in front of him. Baraka hiked your skirt up over your hips and spread your legs wide, pussy glistening and wet. All for him.

Only him. He just needed to remind you of that, and he would, he made sure of the fact as he tugged his trousers down and freed himself.

He gripped the base of his cock with one hand, taking a moment to line himself up. You had to bite into your knuckle to swallow back the wail that tried to rip from your throat as he thrust inside of you, cramming his hard cock deep within you, the tip harshly slamming against your cervix in one animalistic thrust.

Some Tarkatans mated for life, and he definitely wanted to keep you. No other weaker male would have you. He wouldn't let them. He'd slaughter them first.

He pulled out, leaving only the tip of his cock, before snapping his hips back into you, a short yelp bubbling out at the force, feeling the air in your lungs leap with the ferocity of his pace.

You bit back your sounds, not wanting anyone to overhear the two of you as Baraka relentlessly pounded into you, fucking more and more of your slick down your legs, dripping into the cracked, sandy ground below.

Baraka had no such compunction. He was quite the opposite.

He wanted someone to hear you. For them to know how good he fucked you, how he took care of you. How he satisfied you.

And god, was he doing an amazing job.

Every thrust had your mind going blank, vision fuzzy at the edges.

He brought his hand around your front, viciously swiping at your clit as he pummeled your guts ruthlessly with his dick, knowing full well you were close to cumming, he was just trying to bring you to that delicious edge quicker.

Your walls fluttering around him, you finally choked out a sob as he fucked you through your orgasm, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as he bit down on your shoulder, lapping up the blood that welled up from the punctures.

He bullied his cock into you faster, and faster until he couldn't take your pussy squeezing him any longer, snarling and snapping his jaws at the air as he emptied every last drop of his seed into your greedy womb.

He hadn't heard of a Tarkatan breeding with an Edenian, but he was certainly not above trying with you. He brought his hand up from your aching and throbbing clit, to rub at your belly with a deep rumbling laugh coming out of his throat.

You panted, legs wobbly as he kept you pressed against the rocks; the only thing keeping you upright were his hips and hands pinning you there.

His hot breathing ghosted your sweaty skin, cold against the moisture that dripped down your body, soaking the remnants of your dress.

A deep rumbling emanated from Baraka as he lifted his head, turning to the side. You couldn't see him, but you knew he was smiling, a wild look in his eyes.

It wasn't until you lifted your gaze to look at what amused him so, that you realized.

The man from the envoy was standing there, a torch in his hand. He had apparently heard the noise and came to investigate.

You turned away, burying your face in your arm with shame.

You felt Baraka snap his hips to yours again, making you sob quietly into your arm at the fresh wave of pleasure.

Baraka laughed as he started fucking you again, his expression slightly unhinged as he rocked you with each jagged thrust.

"She's mine, little man. Go back to your little camp fire."

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat #mk baraka #baraka #baraka mk11 #baraka x reader #baraka x you

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

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she's got the look.

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!plus size!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering, oral f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), squirting, slight choking kink, kind of fluffy-ish?, words of affirmation, reader isn't very nice about her body and eddie needs to tell her she's perfect!!

Word count | 2.1k

A/N | i'm projecting a bit with this work however i truly believe in my heart eddie loves people of all shapes and sizes and i think he'd treat a plus size girl so well. this is essentially 2k words of absolute smut right from the get go.

eddie who's absolutely obsessed with plus size!reader and her body ))):

You're in the back of his van, laid out on some makeshift mattress made out of blankets and pillows, two of his fingers deep in your wet pussy whilst his tongue assaults your clit. You risk a glance down and all you can see is a frizz of brown curls bobbing over the small mound of your tummy blocking your view. It's rare you ever open your eyes during, really, too worried about catching a glimpse of any of your body and turning yourself off.

Eddie's moaning loud against your cunt, you can feel the tell tale sign of him rutting himself against a small bundle of the blanket below him, which in turn makes you moan out too, "Fuck, Eds," you whine, finally grasping a hand in his curls and tugging hard, thick thighs shaking around his head, squeezing ever so slightly.

He just moans again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your clit as he assaults you further, his fingers finding that spongey spot inside of you and rubbing it relentlessly. You can feel the mixture of your own slick and his saliva dripping down your ass, making a pool at the base of your spine. You were always so wet for him, and he never forgot to tell you how much he loved it.

"Always so wet for me sweetheart, fuck," he'd moan as he pounded into you, hands wandering up the ratty old Zeppelin shirt you'd always be adamant to keep on during, so he could run his hands over your tummy, up over your tits. You would keep your eyes shut, worried he'd rut your shirt up too high and expose you.

Your eyes clench shut tighter as the tell tale sign of your orgasm starts to build like a punch to the gut, "Eddie, m'gonna cum," you whine, hips starting to fuck up against his face, his tongue continuing to lick and suck at your sensitive bud in tandem with his fingers rubbing at your spot inside.

The pressure builds so quickly, the first few times Eddie had done this you'd tried to stave it off from happening, feeling all funny inside. But now you knew better, knew how much he loved to feel and taste you fall apart in this way. You chance another peek down and can see the absolute state Eddie is in now, rutting down against the van floor, his free hand grabbing the meat of your thigh so tightly it's going to bruise, and you lose it.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant, thighs squeezing Eddie's head impossibly tight to keep him there as you cum, feeling the telltale sign of gushing come from inside of you, soaking Eddie's face and hand, creating a further puddle at your ass. You can feel it drip all down your thighs, Eddie greedily lapping up what he can, chancing a dip at your ass to taste more.

He's up from his place at your cunt quickly, fingers slipping deftly out of you and you can't help the small squeak that leaves your lips at the feeling of emptiness. He's looking at you with this dumb smirk on his face, your wetness glistening in the dark on his mouth, chin and even some of his neck.

"Always so wet for me doll," he moans, dipping down to kiss and nip at your neck, settling himself in between your still quivering legs. You can feel the thick outline of his cock straining against the material of his jeans where he nestles and ruts against the inside of your thigh.

His hands can't stop roaming your upper body, going instinctively up your loose shirt and touching every inch of your soft tummy, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver, "God, I love your body, you have no idea how hot you are."

You cringe a little below him, wanting to hide your body from his hands and eyes. He always had a way of making you feel like you were the hottest chick around, that you had the best body and face he'd ever seen, but still his words of affirmation didn't do much to change the way you felt about yourself.

You instinctively try to shove his hands away, but he holds firm, gripping onto your love handles and rutting against you again, a sigh escaping his lips against your wet neck, "Don't hide yourself from me, sweetheart. I love it all."

A gasp escapes your lips at his words, your hands going to encircle his wrists tightly to follow them as they grasp at every bit of your soft tummy, your tits, back down again to your hips.

"If only you saw yourself the way I do, baby," Eddie sighs, moving to kiss along your soft jaw, all the way up to your plump lips, "hey, look at me."

His voice is demanding, a firmness in it that only usually comes out when he's telling you off, "Do you think my cock would get this hard if I didn't love it? If I didn't love every single inch of your gorgeous body?"

You whine quietly, looking into his big, dark, chocolate brown eyes. They're hard as he stares you down, but the softness is still somewhere lingering behind it. His right hand grasps yours, and he places your fingers and palm over his cock, curling your fingers around it for you.

"Feel how hard I am, sweetheart," Eddie's voice is gruff, full of want and need, "all of this from licking you out. Your gorgeous, puffy little pussy. God, I'd cum in my pants given half the chance if I didn't want to fuck you so badly."

You moan on instinct, grappling at his jeans and tugging at them, "Then what are you waiting for?" you ask quietly, looking up at him and batting your lashes, "Fuck me."

Eddie sits back on his haunches quickly, expert hands pulling open his belt and popping the button on his jeans. He doesn't even have the patience to pull his jeans and boxers down properly, settling for shuffling them down his thighs just enough so that his hard cock can spring out, all purple and angry looking at the head, clearly needy with want for you.

He spreads your legs with hard fingers gripped onto the insides of your thighs, forcing them apart so he can look at the mess you both made of your puffy cunt, still slick with your release and his spit.

Eddie looms over you, his hard cock in his hand, giving it a quick tug and you watch as his stomach muscles tighten and quiver from just that small touch. He lines up with your cunt, letting the head of his cock run up and down your folds, the way it runs over your abused clit making you gasp out.

He slides into you with ease, your greedy cunt swallowing him inch by inch, stretching and clenching around his fat cock. He was hard to take to begin with, but once he figured out how your body worked and how to relax it your sweet pussy could expertly take him in, suck him up in a way nobody else ever did.

Eddie bottoms out with a shudder, nestled up right against your cunt, his heavy balls running along your ass. You gasp and cry out on his first thrust, cunt instinctively tightening around him and he lets out a strangled moan.

Your hands come out to grasp at the front of Eddie's Hellfire shirt, tangling in the material as he fucks into you harder and harder. You can feel the van shaking slightly, an obvious sign to anybody who were to walk by you in the parking lot.

Eddie grabs a hold of your thighs, bringing them up to wrap around his waist as he doubles down and sinks into your cunt in this filthy way. The sounds are obscene, your soaked pussy sucking him in so well, his thighs slapping against you with the brutal pace he's taken on.

His hands come up to run under your shirt again, properly looking at your tummy when he bunches the shirt up, letting your tits come into view too, "Look at you, babe. You're fucking perfect," he gasps in between moans and grunts, taking you in with hungry eyes roaming your whole body.

Your eyes instinctively shut again, not wanting to catch a glimpse of yourself. A rough hand grabs hold of your chin and tugs, forcing you to open your eyes and look up. Eddie's stern look mixed in with lust is enough for you to know he wants you to keep watching.

"Look at me whilst I fuck you," He commands, hand coming down to wrap around your throat lightly, "this okay?"

You nod quickly and his fingers come to squeeze at the sides of your throat. You let out a loud moan, mouth opening in a pant as Eddie drives into you faster, impossibly harder, assaulting your soft spot inside, driving up into your cervix.

Your hand comes out to wrap around his wrist, feeling the tendons flex as he squeezes your neck tighter. Something pools in your gut, like another impending orgasm but different this time, a pressure you hadn't felt before.

"Eddie, m'gonna cum again," you rasp, body bouncing as Eddie drives down and fucks you at the same pace, knowing by now to keep doing what he's doing instead of changing it up when you say those words.

"Yeah? You gonna cum around my thick cock?" Eddie taunts, though there's not much heat behind it with how close he is to the edge now, too. You can tell how close he is by how his fingers keep flexing sporadically on your neck.

"Fuck, fuck, Eddie, fuck," You cry, hands trying to push him away because it's too much, too much, too much.

It comes over you in a wave you've never felt before, leaving you lightheaded as your pussy clenches and shakes, your ass lifting up off the floor of the van. Your cunt impulsively shoves Eddie's cock out of you, a stream of wet slicking from your pussy and it just keeps coming.

Eddie looks at your cunt with glazed over eyes, mesmerized by what just happened, as you continue to twitch below him body finally going lax after the unexpectedness of your release.

"God, baby," Eddie groans, fingers coming out to run along your folds and feel your release, "can't believe you just did that for me. Squirted on my cock."

You groan in shame, hiding your face behind your arm, "I didn't know I could do that, Eds," you admit, cringing as your face heats up, turning beet red.

"Don't hide yourself from me angel," Eddie's voice is gruff as he takes your arm and rips it away from your face, "that was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

You look up at him, his eyes blown out in lust and he's really looking at you like you're something to eat now. His cock slides back into you with ease, and you know he isn't going to last long with the way the moans leave his lips so loudly.

You're sensitive beyond belief, puffy cunt still sucking Eddie in greedily but there's a slight pleasure-pain mixed with it.

"Fucking love you and your body," Eddie groans, "that perfect. fucking. pussy." every word is punctuated with another deep thrust, and then he stills suddenly, hunching in on himself and grunting as he fills you with his cum. You feel it enter you in hot, thick ropes. It feels like it goes on forever before he finally slumps on top of you, cushioning his head on your tits.

Your hand instinctively comes out to run through his curly hair, soothing him in the silence of the van. You feel his cock soften inside of you, but he makes no move to get up. Eddie's hands still roam your body, holding onto your squishy tummy.

"I love every inch of you, sweetheart." He hums, "Never forget that. You're the hottest girl in the world, to me."

Your heart swells at his words. Maybe one day you'd believe it yourself, but for now his words and affirmations would do.

It's gross, but you lie there for a while after. How long you're not sure, but when you do eventually get up Eddie grimaces, "I think I'll have to throw those blankets out and buy new ones."

A bubbling laugh bursts out of your chest, then he leans over to kiss you softly. In that moment you have no doubt in your mind you're his girl and he loves you.

#im projecting a lil here but #imagine eddie like this )))):#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #my fanfic #mine #smut #x reader #fem reader #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x you

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respondedinkind · 3 months

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closed starter for @bloodstainedstar

Khan's plan to smugge his crew into safety by putting them into the very weapons he had designed had failed on him; Just when he'd thought he could do it, that everything would go according to plan, the promise of a better future so close he could taste it on the tip of his tongue...

...He'd been discovered by one of Marcus men, and that man had managed to notify the Admiral about his intentions before Khan's hands had brought an end to the unfortunate one's life.

The mentioned one is dead now, yes, but security is onto him and Khan has no other choice but to escape alone, without his people, the ones he holds most dear - because if he doesn't, he will end up being stripped and tied to a biobed, turned into a slab of meat that gives all it has for Marcus to use for his own, sick plans to start a Klingon war.

As much as it pains him, the thought of leaving without the men and women he'd promised to protect - he runs, leaves, manages to steal a shuttle and, somehow, ends up in space. Time feels like a bit of a blur, so Khan doesn't recall every single moment that has happened - he's here, and he has to make some new plans---

---But then, something else happens.

Suddenly, the Universe... opens up in front of him. Quite literally so, as if it tears itself apart, causing blue eyes to widen at the foreign sight. Khan has never seen something like this and he's stunned by the sight, lips parting...

That's when everything happens in such a quick succession that it's hard for even his superior brain to keep up; A white light appears, swallows him, his shuttle shakes and a thousand warning alerts pop up, vanish, pop up before all of the systems are failing. Khan blinks and squints, squeezes his eyes shut at a sudden G-force causing bile to rise inside his throat---

---And then, like that, his shuttle is falling toward another planet that looks remarkably similar to Earth.

What...?

Khan, still confused by everything that has just happened, scrambles to try and get the systems back online but to no avail. The continent grows with the seconds that pass and he gets closer, closer, closer; His shuttle is briefly picked up by a current of wind, it seems, allows it to sail a bit but it's still very much about to crash-land in the middle of what seems to be a rather big city - part of him wonders if no one is actually noticing the aircraft falling like this, if, perhaps, he's too fast for any defense system to react.

He does know, though, that he needs to leave this vessel before he'll hit something with it - bright irises scan what he can see from his position and he makes a split-second-decision he isn't too sure about whether he'll regret it or not.

But, he actually opens the door to his right and---

---Jumps.

The shuttle continues to fly without him, lands somewhere a but further away while Khan flies through the air, toward what appears to be a rooftop of a bulding; He curls his body, lands with his shoulder first and rolls himself off this way, but the impact is still quite rough. He rolls and rolls and rolls, the force of his movement pulling him along - and he manages to hold onto the edge of the building at the very last second before he falls, fingers grabbing onto the stone as he dangles off the side.

Blinking, gasping, Khan needs a second to process this, the whole of what has just happened; He groans, then pulls himself up and back on top of the roof, still catching his breath while allowing his gaze to roam as he crouches there...

...Where the fuck is he? It looks like earth from what he can tell. But... This city is unfamiliar to him.

#bloodstainedstar #Verse -> MCU(Adapted)#(THERE WE GO)

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dollygirl808 · 3 months

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Ch. 3 of A Helping Paw

Obsessive! Werewolf/Weredog 141(+extra) x Chubby! OC Freya

Masterlist

That night, Freya drempt about a man with a hot accent that she couldn't quite remember whispering sweet nothings and pure filth in her ear, and she woke up slightly confused and a little overheated. Lifting her head and blinking the sleep from her eyes, she found that she had buried her face in the back of Soap's neck fur, and he was nestled right up against her.

When she moved he stirred, and turned over to face her as much as he could with his body pinned under her thick thigh, which didn't actually offer him much trouble as he rolled on his back.

She had always preferred that position when sleeping, often waking up to find her leg curled around a pillow or her partner when they shared a bed. She released him from his thigh prison.

His tail fluttered under the covers excitedly, making rustling sounds as it swept back and forth. He gave her his best impression of a smile, licking at her chin with his long tongue.

"Mm, goodmoring pup," She yawned, kissing the side of his head before settling back down, feeling warm and content.

Soap just wiggled impossibly closer, happy to be pet idly as she slowly woke up. Occasionally, he'd let out an impatient whine and paw at her arm when she stopped, making her huff in amusement and start petting him again.

As he's laid on his back snuggled up to her, she felt something warm and slimy bumb into her elbow. The sudden wet feeling touching her skin makes her jerk her arm away and pull back the covers, only to discover that he's hard.

"Oookay," Freya said, sitting up, "That's enough of that, bud. Time to get up," She told him, throwing the covers off of her and getting out of bed.

He whined, attempting to coax her back into bed as he rolled onto his stomach and looked up at her with his best puppy eyes, light blue contrasting nicely with his fur. She doesn't yield, but does pet him.

"You're a very handsome boy, but I need to get up anyways," She spoke to him like he could understand her, then put on some comfortable slippers and padded into the attatched bathroom.

Her morning routine consisted of brushing her teeth and washing her face, then drawing herself a nice hot bath and having a good soak, idly scrubbing at her skin. Multiple times Soap licked at her bare skin, usually along her arm or her leg when she propped it up to shave, and she has to shove his nose away multiple times so he wouldn't lick off her shaving gell or soap.

Usually, she'd love to soak for upwards of an hour, or however long the water remained warm, but her temporary companion insisted on staring at her like she'd cease to exist if he looked away for half a second or blinked even once, and it got to be a little much. She even attempted to coax him into a down, but he refused and even put his front paws up on the edge of the tub like he planned on jumping in, and that made her panic slightly so she ended her bath early.

It wasn't even that she minded so much that he was staring, he was just a dog after all. But it was a strange thing, to feel watched all the time. Even when she closed her eyes she could feel his piercing blue gaze boring holes into her bare skin. No one had ever stared that intensely at her, not even her boyfriend.

She pushed back the thoughts, drying herself off after getting out and wrapping up in a nice silk robe that ended it just about mid thigh, pink with pretty white flowers and a black trim and belt.

Soap followed after her into the kitchen, and she made sure to clean out and refill his waterbowl with fresh water before she went about prepping his breakfast, getting out everything she needed and cutting up his pre prepped portion.

After, she went about making her own food, cheese omletts, and she felt bad that Soap only had meat to eat, and nothing else. She doesn't have any tasty extras, no toppers or anything, so she asked him to sit while he was in the middle of eating. He obeyed, with a cute confused tilt to his head, and she cracked an egg over the rest of his meal and left him the shells to eat or pick out if he didn't want them

"Do you like eggs, bud?" Freya asked, and got a happy little arf in response. She smiled and left him to it.

After she's finished cooking, Soap joined her once again on the couch while she ate and watched her little shows on the TV, half curled in her lap. After relaxing for a little bit, she decided that he needed to get out to do his buisness and exercise.

"Wanna go outside Soap?" She asked, and laughed when he perked up, hopping down so she can stand. He walked over to the door, looking back at her expectantly when she doesn't immediately follow.

"I'm sorry pup, gotta get dressed first." She told him, heading to her bedroom to change with him right behind her. She put on a simple yellow sundress with black sandals, and grabbed multiple different toys along with a chuckit- and thank god for that, her legs were still sore and achy from the hike yesterday, and she didn't need her arms to fall off because she was throwing a ball a hundred times over.

She sort of needed her arms, being a writer and all, although it's not like she really needed to work which how much money she still had from her parents and grandfathers inheritance, tucked away in a savings account for safekeeping.

She opened the door, and Soap ran out, right to the edge of the forest to pee on a scent urgently. He trotted around the edge then, sniffing at the ground and bushes and roots, occasionally marking on something that he didn't like or just claiming the area as his own.

While he did his business, she looked down at her phone to call Nikolai. Holding her phone up to her ear she looked back up and saw Soap wondering into the forest. She didn't think much of it as she watched him walk over foliage with his long legs, that was until he started getting further and further out of sight to the point where she actually lost track of him.

Panicking, she hung up on Nikolai before he had a chance to answer and rushed after the dog. By the time she made it to the edge of the forest, he was already walking back.

"Soap, you scared me!" Frey huffed out, feeling her irrational amount of panic subside. To his credit, he did lower his ears and let out a low whine, appearing sorry. She sighed, and leaned down to kiss between his eyes.

"Good boy. Don't wonder off so far, yeah?" She whispered then stood up, "If I loose you I'll have to skip town and I'll never be able to return to my childhood home out of shame, and you wouldn't want that would you bud?"

He huffed out of his nose at her, flicking his tongue at her fingers. She walked back to her porch, sitting on the hanging bench. Just as she got comfortable, her phone rang. She answered and put it on speaker.

"Goodmorning zaika," Nikolai's deep, sleep ladden voice rumbled on the other side of the receiver, catching her off guard.

"G-Goodmorming," Freya stuttered out, mentally cursing herself for feeling flustered. She had a boyfriend, for fucks sake! But that deep, accented sleepy russain voice? It really did her in.

"You called?" He yawned out, and she scolded herself, feeling guilt gnaw at her for waking the poor man up, having the audacity to find his morning voice stupidly attractive, and also for having a boyfriend whilst she thought about Nikolai like that.

"Ah, yeah- sorry for waking you," She quickly offered, pressing the ball into the chuckit and tossing it over the porch for Soap, and he reassured her that it was fine, he had to wake up soon anyways. "I wanted to ask if Soap didn't like men? We were on a hike and this random guy tried to pet him and Soap snarled and snapped his teeth at the guy. He seemed like a shifty person after the fact but I thought I'd ask."

Soap hopped over the railing, chasing after the orange ball. "Ah, I see. He does not like strange men touching him, and he is more tolerant of women, but I do not recommend letting too many get close. Soap is impulsive and immature, but he wants to make you happy."

He dropped the ball in her lap, huffing through his nose indignantly and stomping one of his big front paws.

She snorted, "You are so dramatic, bud. Lil impulsive drama queen, arent you?"

"Ah, did Soap hear me?" Nikolai chuckled, and she could hear what sounded like him getting out of bed.

"Yeah, he huffed and stomped his foot at me," Freya giggled, reaching out to pet him. He pouted, ducking his head a little as he looked up at her. She clipped the ball into the the chuckit, and held it up, "You still wanna play or are you mad at me?" She asked, wiggling the ball in the air. He huffed again and sat back, so she threw it for him and he chased after it.

He waited for a moment to make sure her attention wasn't entirely on Soap, "May I ask you a question, zaika?"

"Oh sure! What is it?"

"Yesterday when I mentioned Price was on deployment you looked.. sad," Nikolai said, unanswered question like a splash of cold water.

"Oh.. um, yeah," She said, voice dipping into a hushed, sad tone.

"Can I ask why?" He asked, voice much softer than his usual deep rumble.

"Well.. both of my parents were military. And they both died during deployment in a military related accident when I was 16." Freya told him sadly, watching Soap jog back up the stairs.

"I'm sorry to hear that, zaika," He told her honestly, voice solemn.

"Yeah," She sighed, "But it's been a while now. I've already been through the grieving process, with my parents and my grandfather."

They were both quiet after that for a bit, and she threw the ball for Soap again before he spoke up.

"Last night I managed to call Price, and I found out some more information. He has another dog being watched named Gaz, and they both only came to him recently. He took them in on behalf of an old friend of his who he promised that he'd take care of them until he could find them more permanent homes."

"Oh," She breathed out, already feeling that familiar twinge. She almost wanted to curse her father and grandfather for spoiling her so much, both in life and death, making her crave to have everything she wanted, and always making things work out for her.

She wanted to keep Soap, actually. Almost felt sad when she discovered he had a loving home somewhere nearby. And now, finding out it was only temporary until he found his new forever home? She had to scold herself for being spoiled, Jake didn't like dogs much and he did live with her in her little city apartment. Soap wouldn't be happy there, would he?

But he loved it out here, didn't he? Out in the country, in her old family home. Wasn't it time she stopped being a city girl and came home?

"Detka?" Nikolai asked, russain accent thick as he used some word she didn't know- probably calling her a silly little airhead for going mute for so long, stuck in her own head.

"Oh- Uh, yes?" She finally snapped out of it when Soap whined and nosed at her hands. She pet him absent-mindedly.

"Would you want to come meet Gaz? He is here at my shop today, you are free to stop by and visit," He told her.

Freya nibbled on her bottom lip in indecision, checking the time on a phone and noting that it was already 11am, well past when Jake said he'd be back. Only after Soap barked at her impatiently, jumping up onto her lap with his front paws did she answer, almost accidentally stumbling out a, "Yeah, sure," in response.

"When would you like to come?" He asked, and she could hear him presumably moving around his house, getting ready for the day.

"Uh, when do you open? I don't have any plans today- except wait for my boyfriend to come back from hiking and introduce him and Soap. Hopefully successfully." She told him, throwing the ball for the pup again.

But as he was about to jump over the railing again he paused, almost mid-jump as he landed paws-up on the railing, big blue eyes looking back at her over his fluffy shoulder with an expression she couldn't quite place, although if he was capable of such emotion she'd assumed it was betrayal.

"Ah- boyfriend?" He ventured carefully, "Best to be cautious with Soap, he can get possessive with people he like. I am about to leave soon to open, I'll be in the shop if you left now."

"Ok, yeah, sure," She said, already standing up. She was already dressed, mostly in anticipation of seeing her boyfriend again, but he wasn't back yet, and now that she thought about it she didn't really have a plan for introducing him to Soap, and she should probably figure out what she's going to do when she does, considering how quick the dog was to snap at that man yesterday.

"I'll leave now then, and meet you there- is that.. is that ok?" She asked at the end, unsure, not wanting to rush him into getting ready.

Nikolai chuckled on the other end of the phone, "Of course detka, you and Soap are welcome anytime, yes?" He rumbled, deep and amused. She felt herself flush, nodding although he couldn't see and agreeing with him, promising to meet him there soon.

Water bottle, keys, purse and leash in hand, she opened up the door on the driver's side of the truck, knowing Soap would end up across from her even if she put him in the back seat anyways. "C'mon pup, let's go vist Nikolai, yeah?" She called to him, smiling sweetly when his head tilted cutely at the familiar name.

Soap let out a high pitched 'ruff' and hopped in, settling quickly in his seat as she set her bottle in the cup holder and her things in the floor space of the passenger seat, earning her a quick wet kiss on her exposed shoulder, to which she rolled her eyes affectionately at.

---

Taglist: @cringeycookies

#A Helping Paw COD #cod fanfic #john soap mactavish #werewolf au #Werewolf #werewolf!soap #task force 141 #nikolai cod #dadbod nikolai truther

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kedreeva · 2 years

Note

i don't know if this could be your kind of thing, but something about steddie + halloween?

(Taking ST prompts!)(previous prompts)

Steve likes to watch Eddie work. They're on the couch at Steve's place because Wayne's home for once. Steve's got his toes tucked under Eddie's warm thigh, stretched out so he can lay his head on the armrest. Eddie's got a pile of fabric in his lap, his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth, and a needle and thread in his hands.

He's sewing. Or stitching or something. Steve's not really sure about the distinction, as he's never done either.

Doesn't matter. He's making things out of fabric, and he is quiet and focused and adorable when he does it, and Steve is thoroughly enjoying watching. It's different from watching those fine fingers dance over guitar strings, this slow and careful intricacy. Creating something tangible, something that leaves evidence of his existence.

"What are you making, anyway?" Steve blurts, because his brain to mouth filter shuts off when he's this sleepy.

Regrettably, the comment chases Eddie's tongue back inside his mouth and Steve's not close enough to follow. "Costume," Eddie says, glancing over with a smile. "For Halloween."

Steve snorts. "That's like two months away."

"Yeah, and it takes a long time to put this shit together by hand," Eddie says, rolling his eyes through his smile.

With a yawn, Steve closes his eyes. "You could get something already made. Way less work."

"I like the work, thank you very much," Eddie scoffs. "And I can make stuff better than the store can. More personal. Better quality, too."

"So you can wear it once?" Steve grins, not opening his eyes because he knows the offended look Eddie is giving him.

Eddie pinches the meat of his calf and Steve jerks his leg back with a yelp. "I'll have you know, I can wear it for campaigns. The club's dressing up as their characters this year."

Steve wriggles his foot back under Eddie's thigh, looking at the fabric in a new light. "Really? I thought you... aren't you the leader, though?"

He understands a little more, these days- he'd sat in on a few games trying to learn, and Eddie had taught him a little bit when he'd asked. He knows the kids and Eddie's friends are player characters, and he knows that Eddie is the dungeon master. He'd thought that meant Eddie plays the non-player characters, which is confusing because Eddie is then a player, and those characters would then be played characters, but everyone had assured him that's not how it works.

"Does that mean you're, like... dressing up as a barkeep or something? Or uh... an innkeeper?"

Eddie laughs softly, not a mean laugh. Fond. He's always fond when Steve tries, and it makes Steve want to try more, even though none of this is really his thing.

"I have a few characters," Eddie explains. "I don't always DM. Mike and Will both like to run stuff sometimes."

"How come I've never seen that?"

"Because you and Mike would spend the entire time picking on each other so nothing would get done, and if I'm left to my own devices for longer than a few minutes, I'd probably end up in your lap," Eddie says simply. "Then we'd have to explain that, and Mike would really never forgive you for ruining me."

"Mm," Steve hums, trying to keep a straight face, which is very hard when he can't stop thinking about Eddie in his lap. Least straight way for a face to be, really. "You have a point."

Eddie coughs, poorly hiding his laugh, and finally sets the fabric aside across the arm of the couch. "It's getting late. You wanna go upstairs? We can talk about my point some more."

Steve breaks first, laughing, and definitely doesn't scramble to his feet, but it's not graceful either. He holds out a hand to help Eddie up as well. "I would love that, c'mon."

Eddie takes his hand, warm and comforting, and they don't exactly race up the stairs, but it's close enough.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #puns #just absolutely terrible ones #I'm not repentant in the least #but #someone should really take my keyboard away from me

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the-illiterate-pirate · 9 months

Text

Twisted Nerve | ch. 1

Btw go check out @return-of-a-space-cowboy 's rendition of the fic! We're working side by side to give you not one, but two stories featuring our favorite man!!!!

Notes: SFW, slasher au, set in USA in the '80s, Reader is a FILTHY AMERICAN but uses gender neutral pronouns, Blackmore works in a butcher shop with meat, descriptions of slaughtering animals, weird kids

WARNINGS: While this chapter is sfw this series will include nsfw content such as murder, dark themes, yandere/stalker Blackmore, and probably more.

Just another Arizona afternoon. A fly buzzed near your ear, always out of reach. The heat burned on. Moving inside didn't help at all. The air was sticky and gross. Countless pairs of eyes from mounted animal heads stared at you uncomfortably while you waited for a sign of life in that butcher shop.

It was in the middle of the day, the doors weren't locked. Surely they were still open?

You ignored the dead glass eyes, instead scanning the short walls for other decoration. Some blue ribbons, lots of pictures of farm life, a tractor, a family picnic, many more pictures of what could've possibly been the generations of men and family who'd own the store. All sharing the same last name. The earliest one you could find was from the mid 1800's. Titled and dated underneath a family of... Gosh, that was a lot of kids...

Besides the countless family photos framed with care, there was a line of pictures like the first one, all dated, with men and their lady front and center before the same farm over and over again, stretching all the way to 1942, where it stopped. The first colored photo. A man and woman, faces blank of any emotion. The difference between this photo and the last wasn't just the coloring, but the mutilated carcass of a cow, hooked and hanging. Acting as a barrier between the two.

The photo felt incredibly cursed to look at. It sent a feeling of unease through you the longer you stared. But you couldn't look away. It brought up a question. Was the couple in that photo still running this meat shop? That picture was already 40 years old, they must be nearing old age now. Right?

Until a kid appearing behind the counter answered your silent question.

A very young kid.

Good heavens, he didn't look a day over fourteen. His clothes were baggy and severely oversized. Mud speckled his thin frame while got out a crate from the back of the building to help him see over the counter. He leaned against the old wood like he'd done this dance a thousand times.

"Welcome, stranger. What are you lookin' for? Beef? Pork? We've got the finest cuts in town!"

You shook out of your daze, stepping towards the counter, hands grappling for the paper in your pocket. "Thanks, but I'm not really looking for meat at the moment." You decided to tell the truth, finally able to free your map from your jeans.

The boy's eyes darken. A deep blue that looked black. "Then what are you even doin' here?" He asked bluntly. You stiffen. The sudden change in tone made you feel uneasy. You swallow your nausea and offer the kid your map.

"I-I'm just looking for a grocery store! You're the closest shop I could find, I was hoping I could get some directions."

"Oh." The dark look on his face left, going back to normal. The blond took the map from your- laughably nervous -hand before laying it out before himself. He scanned the brittle paper for some time, his finger trailing over points of interest. "Where'd you get this map anyway?" He asked without taking his eyes away from the counter.

"Gas station, on the way into town." You answer with a nervous chuckle. "Best I could do. Doesn't seem like this place has an official building. Least doesn't have one I could find."

The boy clicked his tongue. "Figures. The thing's outdated, no one comes through here so there's no real reason to change them."

He tapped a finger with a chewed down nail on your original point of interest, just across the street, actually. A ten minute walk in this blistering heat proved to be worthless once you came face to face with an abandoned concrete flat on the outskirts of town. "This store doesn't even exist anymore!" The boy continued, "Got torn down before my momma even popped me out."

You cringe in disgust at his language. He didn't seem to notice. Instead he turned heel, disappearing before you even knew it to behind the sheets hiding the rest of the building from the entrance room. An entrance room so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Seconds passed like minutes, until you heard the hushed voice of the tiny child nearing again. A new hand pushed open the curtains, connected to a scrawny arm and a frail body. He had the same straw blond hair as the boy guiding him by the free hand and the same deep blue eyes. If you didn't know any better, you'd think that was the boy's father. They looked nearly identical. But the boy still had his childish innocence, soft features, wide eyes, eager to see what the world had to offer. This new man was beaten down from years of work, he'd seen it all. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes were sunken in, looking like a skeleton holding on to its skin for dear life. You didn't feel right assuming his age, but you guessed he was fairly older than yourself.

He was pulled towards your map. He broke away from his relative's paws and set a wet cleaver on the counter. Your eyes were immediately pulled towards it. Pink water pooled underneath its shining blade. You had a suspicion what it was.

The young boy tapped the map, getting your attention again, but he was looking at the taller blond. "They need help getting to Tony's store." The adult turned to the kid, a blunt and emotionless stare. The boy added, "Yer the one good with directions! I dunno how to read a map!"

He slowly turned back, as if all of his motions were in slow motion. He seemed dazed, slowly picking up a plastic pen from an old paper cup. Slowly drawing a circle over a dot on the map marked "RICHARD'S CUTS". He draws a perfectly straight line down the map, taking a left, then adding a right.

"The map's outdated." The man spoke bluntly. His voice whined and squeaked, like red gears churring to life after time without use.

"I already told them that." The kid frowned, but he was talked over.

"This'll take you to the new store, just a couple blocks away. You can find anythin' you need here. Is' about a fifteen minute walk." He punctuated by drawing an X over the map. From behind him, you saw the kid roll his eyes.

"Well, jus' about anythin'. You got a car?"

You nodded, and he reciprocated with his own. "Tony's is good. But if yer looking for name brand stuff you'll have t'skip town." This time you shook your head, "Oh, no, no, no, this is perfect! Thank you so much, Mister...?"

The boy puffed out his chest with pride. "The name's Ezekiel. This here is Blackmore, he's my big bro, and he does the cuttin', up here."

"Right. Thanks a lot you two. Really, this is all that I could ask for!"

So they were brothers. That made sense. The eldest deemed himself unneeded, and left with his cleaver.

"It's no problem." Ezekiel waved your thanks away. "Now, if you ain't buyin' anything, leave!"

"Ah- right!" You walked backwards slightly, thanking Ezekiel again. "I promise I'll come back again soon, promise! You guys-"

Only a step away from the door now, and you were stopped by a hand on your elbow. You reel around, heart jumping into your mouth, just to see it was Blackmore. His cleaver was now replaced with a water bottle, crisp and cold with condensation clearly running down the side, with that same emotionless stare. "Take this."

He pushed the water bottle in your hand. From behind him you saw Ezekiel smirk. "It's not a good idea to be walking around in this heat without a cold drink."

"You ain't from around here, are you?" Ezekiel butted in.

"Actually... no, Me and my dad just moved in from over in Illinois!" Your eyes cut over to blackmore. He was nearly nose to nose. It was uncomfortable, but you'd give him the benefit of a doubt.

Those eyes... They were beautiful before. Now, with no light to bounce off his irises, they looked deep black. Like a hungry shark. You tried to ignore that similarity. "...Thanks, Blackmore. How much do I owe you for this?"

"It's on the house." He mumbled before moving away, ready to get back to work.

"Just remember this kindness!" Ezekiel added while wagging a finger. "Whether it's pork, beef, chicken, we got it all! The finest cuts in town!"

From outside, you could hear Blackmore's little brother chide him for giving away that water bottle. He either didn't reply, or his voice was so soft you couldn't hear it. You decided you didn't want the water to go to waste. It tasted delicious on your parched tongue. It was very much needed.

You paused for a second, map in hand, staring at the rest of town from the outskirts.

Screw walking, you were getting the car.

"So? How is it?"

You settled down on a moving box labeled "Dad's books". It was one of the other pieces of "furniture" you had until the rest came in throughout the week. Dad had his rocking chair, fortunately, snacking on a sandwich consisting of Colby Jack cheese and rotisserie style chicken. You were eager to know how he'd enjoy the change of brand. Ezekiel had been right; the grocery store really did only sell the bare essentials. There was the store brand lunch meat, which in your honest opinion looked sketchy. Then there was Black Night's Cuts. It piqued your interest back in the store. Not just by the sleek black packaging or the name, but the slogan printed right smack dab in the middle of the plastic.

"Cut Fresh, From Our Store To Your Table! Finest Cuts In Town!"

That fucking slogan. Not only did Ezekiel say it to you himself, the damn cashier cashing you out said it, too. Black Night's was certainly a nice change of pace from "Richard's", but you were curious about the change.

But enough speculating, Dad was taking his first bite. Buying food for him was something you feared after moving. He didn't like to eat anything that wasn't a well known brand. It did get pricey. But now you had to pinch pennies since both of you were running off savings until you found a new job. Tony's was full of knock offs, no "Froot Loops" or "Frosted Flakes". The "Hunny Rings" you bought didn't even have a mascot. You grew forlorn for the little bee you took for granted in your past shopping.

"Well?"

"It's pretty damn good." The older man laughed over his toasted sandwich, snagging another bite. You sigh, form relaxing. At least now you know your father wouldn't be dying of starvation any time soon, the stubborn bastard.

"Y'know, I met the guy who cooked that meat."

"Really now?"

"Yep. He was... Interesting. Even gave me some free water to keep from drying up on the sidewalk like a worm." You took a bite from your own sandwich. It had been waiting patiently in your lap for you to finish holding your breath.

It was like an explosion on your tongue. The seasoning was perfect, with a nice smoky taste to the meat. When people described their food as "orgasmic" this had to be what they were talking about.

"You'll have to go back and see if they sell any steak."

"Dad, you know we can't afford that right now. Maybe we can get some as a celebratory dinner, after I get a job."

"Been a while since I had a good steak." He muttered between his two pieces of bread, ignoring what you said. You sigh again, staring down at your own sandwich. You'll have to go back into town tomorrow and look for job openings. If nothing, you were a people pleaser. You'll get Dad his steak.

You took a bite from your sandwich.

#jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba #steel ball run #jjba x reader #blackmore jojo #blackmore x reader #slasher au #The Pirate Writes | JJBA

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tinalbion · 2 years

Note

Can i pwees have a fic of Freddy giving his female y/n oral please?

So you guys want more human Freddy deliciousness? You know what, same, guys, same. We deserve it and it's what we need, ya feel me? So I humbly deliver unto thee some Freddy. How could we resist that silver tongue when it's so talented in other ways?

Minors, DO NOT INTERACT, 18+

“Late Night Calls”

Human Freddy Krueger x AFAB!Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit; fingering, oral- female receiving, some masturbation, orgasm denial, Freddy is a dirty little cheater but you like it so it's fine

Length: 4k

Your phone calls with Fred always ended the same way; he'd ask if you wanted to come over and no matter how busy you were, you always agreed to drop everything and go.

You were absurdly easy when it came to Freddy, you always had been, ever since you met and were head over heels for him. Sure, he was married to Loretta, a woman you'd known for a good handful of years, but that didn't mean he was HAPPILY married to her. You and she never quite got off on the right foot, she always seemed to think more highly of herself and didn't even bother to talk to you even when you'd greet her at Springwood Elementary when you'd drop off your niece. But her husband was a piece of work, very brooding and quiet, mostly kept to himself. How did a woman like her land a guy like him?

You never really did ask him how they got together, things like that weren't your main focus when you laid beside him wearing nothing but the bedsheets that were wrapped around your naked form. Even if you two had a spat and swore you’d be stronger the next time you locked eyes with him, you knew it was an absolute lie and you’d fall for it over and over again. That’s just how Fred was, no matter how cruel his words could be, he somehow always managed to keep you coming back to him.

Tonight was no different, and he never managed to tell you just where Loretta ended up going on these frequent trips she’d been taking with Katherine, but you didn’t really want to know the nitty-gritty details, you found it best to stay in your place and mind your own business. And of course, whenever they left for the weekend, his first reaction was to call you, and you weren’t sure if you should have felt overused as a booty call, or take it as a compliment that you had something he must have liked.

You slipped into something that you knew he’d really like on you, and would like even more to take you out of, then you drove that short distance in the nice little neighborhood with the typical white picket fences, your eyes searched for the lit-up porchlight that signaled he was inside waiting for you. As usual, you parked a few blocks away and down the side streets to avoid suspicion from the nosy neighbors and walked as quickly as you could, making sure to stick more toward the shadows that would eventually guide you into the backyard, where you knocked three times on the back door as instructed.

The door opened a moment later to reveal Freddy in one of his more casual button-up shirts, his strawberry blonde hair had been brushed back neatly, and of course, he stood before you with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. That smile he wore when he laid his eye on you always left your heart pounding quicker and your hands trembling from nervousness. You were never able to explain correctly the feeling that washed over you when he stared at you, but if you could get as close to anything, it would be a big, bad wolf salivating at a fresh slab of meat. It’s not like you really minded though, in fact, you welcomed it, you liked feeling that sensation wash over you as if you stepped into a dangerous man’s house and could be told to run for your life within an instant.

“Hey Fred,” you greeted once he stepped aside to welcome you in. “Surprised you called me so late.” You shrugged out of the light jacket you wore and hung it on the coat hook attached to the wall.

Freddy scoffed and turned to walk away from you, his cigarette now in his hand as he tapped the ash off into the nearby ashtray. “And that means what, exactly, kitten?”

That damn nickname always got to you, he knew it did, so he made sure to surprise you with it in casual conversations. “Eh, well, it’s a lot later than when you normally call, everything okay?”

“Everything is killer,” he smirked and spun to look at you, his tongue ran over his bottom lip as he blew out another cloud of smoke. “Just fine. Had a little extra work tonight is all, was busy. I was surprised you were still awake.”

You smirked and let out a breathy laugh. “I was too, honestly, just couldn’t sleep I suppose.” Truth be told, you were hoping he’d call you, especially since it had been over two weeks since your last encounter with him, you really missed his touch. You ran your hands over your arms and sighed. “Well, you gonna offer me a drink, handsome?”

Without arguing, he walked over to his fancy set up of a mini bar in the living room and poured you a glass of your favorite drink, he remembered the way you liked it, which you found endearing. He handed it to you and you reached out for it, making sure your fingers brushed his as you stared up at smiled at him. Fred caught your action and stared hard at you, and sometimes you still had a difficult time reading him and how he felt. Tonight though, he seemed a little tense and a little less chatty than usual, so you hoped you could put his mind at ease. You had all the time in the world.

As you leaned back against the sofa and crossed your legs, making sure your thighs were out there just enough for him to get a nice peek, you swirled your drink in its glass and sighed. “Thanks, doll,” you uttered, “so talk to me, Fred. How’s business been?”

He didn’t seem up for chatting, but the one rule you had with him was that you didn’t want to feel rushed when it came to seeing him. You weren’t in this for just the sex, you made that very clear one evening, and he was honestly surprised by it, but then sheepishly admitted he liked having you around as much as you did him. So you played the role of the woman he wished he could have, one who willingly asked how his day was, one who wanted to do whatever she could to make sure he was at ease.

“Ran longer than usual, but it doesn’t bother me, keeps my hands busy. Otherwise can’t complain. How’s that job of yours treatin’ you?” He wanted to ask so badly about the asshole who had been constantly harassing you at work, but the role of a jealous boyfriend was beneath him, or so he thought.

“Better, especially since I was transferred to another department. No more interactions with that knucklehead, thankfully. But how are YOU,” you emphasized, “you doing okay?”

He nodded curtly, almost as if to brush it off, but he knew you too well. So when he watched as you stood up from the sofa and walked over to the chair he sat in, you sunk to your knees with the drink in your hand and rested your chin on his knee. “C’mon, Fred, you can tell me, it’s always our little secret.”

Freddy looked down at you with a stern face, but he was thinking of so many things that they all seemed to jumble together, causing him to grow a bit more frustrated than you wanted him to be. “Home could be better,” he confessed. “She’s always wantin’ more and more outta me, it feels constricting.”

“There we go,” you breathed with a smile. “But I get you, Fred, she doesn’t seem to want to give you that space, it always seems to be the same with her. I’m glad you called.” Your free hand began to rub his leg back and forth, gently caressing him and allowing him to feel that you were there, giving subtle hints of your desire, your smile only grew as you stared up at him. “I’ll do whatever in my power to make you forget her, even if it’s just for tonight, hmm?”

The smirk that grew on his face mostly felt as if it were for show, but sometimes he’d melt a little behind that facade and would allow himself to be more open around you. He sighed as his hand found its way against your hair, slowly petting it as if it were to calm himself more than you. His eyes fluttered closed and his body tensed under your hand, still stroking his leg yet inching dangerously close to his upper thigh. He wouldn’t admit it, but Fred knew you like the back of his hand, he knew what got you going and what calmed you, so he loved to use that against you most times, like how he sat in the chair before you and gently tugged on your hair, he knew you would beg for more by the time he was finished here.

The sounds you made when Fred tightened his grip on your hair were delicious, he wanted to hear more spill from your lips, but not here. Before he could stand to make his move, you gripped onto his leg and pushed yourself onto your knees, a devilish look in your eyes.

“Fred,” you purred, “I know this could have been a more social call, but please, I need you so badly.” Your nails dug into his skin through his pants, but he barely flinched. “Been thinking about you all day.”

When he stared down at you as you stayed on your knees, he rose from his chair and glared at you, but not in anger. His gaze was intense as he beckoned for you to stand, his hand greeted your jaw when you stood up to face him, then his fingers slowly wrapped around your throat and he gave you a gentle squeeze. He smirked when he forced your face away from him, exposing your neck as he went in for the kill, his teeth sank into your flesh and he sucked your skin harshly. The cry you gave only fueled him to suck harder, your hands tried to pull him in closer as if he wasn’t already wrapped around you as much as he could manage to be.

Your breathy moans would be a problem if you had Loretta to worry about, but Fred assured you she'd be gone for the weekend, so your desire to be as loud as you wanted had taken over. Your hands ran through his hair and pawed at him while his mouth nipped at you, but as amazing as his mouth felt on your skin, you wanted to feel it in other places.

"Fred," you pulled away and tried to catch your breath momentarily, "let's go somewhere else, yeah?"

"Already tryin' to get your hands on me, huh," he scoffed as he ripped himself away from you, his hand gripping yours as he pulled you along.

This wouldn't be the first time you had been taken to his bedroom, you knew it probably wouldn't be the last time either unless you were caught somehow. But that didn't matter at the moment, not when his voice was so enticing as he demanded that you take off your clothes, and slowly.

So you stood in the dim light of the table lamp sitting on the bedside table as Fred sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes eagerly watching you while your hands made your way to the hem of your blouse. The slow shimmy you made as you pulled the material over your head made yourself laugh in the awkward silence, with no music to move to, so you tried your absolute best to make the most of this for him. He didn't seem to mind the awkwardness of it all, his eyes were too busy scanning over your features as if he was seeing them for the first time. No matter what could be said about Freddy, he never made you feel ashamed for being naked in front of him.

When you discarded your bottoms and were only left standing there in your undergarments, his hands hooked around young underwear and pulled you forward until you were directly in front of him.

"Enough playing games," he mused as he slid his fingers against your clothed cunt, "let's feel how wet you are for me, princess." When he rubbed his two fingers in between your thighs, toying with the ache you felt, he snickered as he stared up at you. "So wet already and I've barely touched you. Sucking your neck gets you goin', huh?"

You smirked and watched his hand move against you slowly, teasing you as he barely made contact thanks to the material in the way. It was thin but it still felt like too much was in the way, and you couldn't hold in your pouty whine when his fingers teased you so mercilessly.

"Freddy, stop–" you began to protest but were interrupted by a quick smack to your leg.

Freddy stared up at you and smirked. "Don't rush me, kitten, you know I like to take my time with you."

You continued to pout and huffed. "I know, you're just making me feel so good, I can't help it." You shifted your legs and made a face, which you shouldn't have done. You realized how it looked once you'd done it, and Fred's expression said it all.

"Oh, you're gonna be like that, huh?" He swiftly stood and switched places with you, your back was now toward the bed. "Then I guess you need to be shown just who you're talkin' back to."

"Wait, Fred, I–"

He pushed you down onto the bed and pulled you closer toward him, your legs hung off the edge but you didn't protest, your head was lifted from the mattress to watch him with interest. He paid you no mind as his hands hooked onto your underwear and pulled them down slowly, his eyes could have burned a hole through you the way he stared at you, his eyes shifted down your body as he began to touch you. His hands slid over your sides, his fingertips skated along your hips, all the way down to your thighs. He dropped to his knees as he pulled you a bit closer toward him, then placed your legs over his shoulders so he had the perfect view of your slick sex.

You expected him to be an asshole as per usual, but he was drawing it out now as he began to kiss your inner thigh, so close to your cunt that you bit back a sharp inhale, you knew better than to complain when he was giving you the night of your life. But sometimes you wanted to push him, to see how far he’d take your punishment, sometimes it paid to be a brat. You laid your head back against the mattress, your eyes closed, and you took in the soft touches and gentle kisses he placed all along your thighs. You let out a surprised yelp when he bit down, and his laughter followed soon after because he knew you were trying to behave tonight for him, so he wanted to push you right back.

He loved to try and break you.

You shifted impatiently beneath him, but as soon as you moved, his thumb rubbed over your clit, and watched as your body jerked in reply to his touch. He smirked and did it again and again, slowly swiping his thumb in a circle, only to pull away after every touch. Those little moans and mewls that came from your lips only fueled him to continue, wanting to hear you get louder for him, so his thumb came into full contact now, rubbing slow, gentle circles as he watched you twitch beneath his hands. When you were getting too jerky with your movements, his free hand would slap your thigh to remind you to relax as he worked you over. As he continued, he could tell that you were getting close, your eyes were half-lidded, and your mouth was slack as you breathed deep. He smiled when he pulled away and you whined so loudly that you thought you’d be punished immediately for doing so.

Freddy said nothing as he wore that shit-eating grin on his face, and then watched your body wriggle as he pushed two of his fingers into your pussy, his tempo just as slow and teasing as always while he watched your body react to his touches. He curled his fingers within you as they got so deep, his hands always worked wonders on you.

“Oh god, Freddy, please–” you huffed, now leaning against your elbows as you watched him with a lust-filled gaze. “You’re such a tease.”

“If you don't like my teasing then why are you moaning?” he countered with a grin. You couldn’t form words when his fingers pushed deeper.

He chuckled and continued to finger you, watching as you were beginning to leak down your thighs, which only caused his obvious erection to push against his slacks. He shifted and leaned forward as he continued to fuck you with his hand, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. You gasped and he laughed again. “I love the way you look with my fingers inside you, princess,” he cooed softly as he placed several more kisses along your thigh.

When he felt your body shaking, he pulled his fingers from you and placed them into his mouth, sucking them clean as he left you on the bed yet again, just almost reaching your orgasm and denying you once again. What an asshole. You looked so frustrated, a thin sheen of sweat covered your body and made your skin glisten in the dim light as he looked over you.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” he asked as he shrugged out of his button-up shirt, giving you a nice little show as he stood and tossed it off somewhere. “Sorry for teasin’ you so much, Y/N, but I’m not finished yet.”

“Please, Fred, oh fuck, please…” you groaned, your legs parted for him once again as he sunk to his knees.

His hands were now placed on either side of your thighs to keep them nice and open, he licked his lips as he hovered his mouth above your clit, and then he placed his lips on you and began to suck. The sounds you made were unholy but he didn’t stop, his focus was solely on you and those sounds your pretty little mouth made. The way his tongue swirled through your folds and around that sensitive part of you drove you wild, and you couldn’t help but lose yourself in the pleasure you were feeling.

Freddy dragged his tongue slowly against you and you bit your bottom lip to hold back the sounds you were making as if you were afraid of him edging you once again. But Freddy looked up at you and clicked his tongue. “Aww princess, come on, I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.”

His tongue was back on you, relentless as he swirled it along your clit again, pushing it into you as his hands opened your legs further, wanting to get as deep as he could to taste you. Your juices dripped onto his chin and he didn’t care in the slightest, your taste on his tongue made him throb against his leg, his pants were so constricting, fuck he wanted to be inside of you so badly. You were so slick from his spit and your excitement, it pooled beneath you while you struggled to breathe normally. You felt yourself grow close yet again, and you were afraid that your body would betray you and Freddy would pull away at the very last moment yet again, so you did your best to try and ride it out before it was stolen from you again.

Freddy knew you through, he knew how your body reacted to him and he laughed as he watched your face twist into so many expressions, he found it rather cute how you tried to trick your body into not wanting it, but he continued on anyway. Maybe if you gave him one orgasm, he could stuff you full of his cock, but that was if you didn’t mouth back.

You were a mess as you bucked your hips against his mouth, his tongue reaching as far as it could as he brought up a hand to stimulate your throbbing clit, and your sounds were now louder just as he asked. Your hands grabbed at the sheets beneath you, anything to grab onto so you could ground yourself, otherwise, you felt as if you’d fall into nothingness. His mouth always felt so fucking delicious on your cunt, he had done this a handful of times and it felt more and more pleasurable each time like he’d been practicing just for you. You were such a mess, both literally and figuratively, and it felt amazing as his tongue continued its assault, how sucking on your clit again.

You moaned out his name over and over again. “Yes, yes, fuck Fred, oh my God, please, keep-keep going–”

Your whimpers were music to his ears as he shoved his fingers back inside of you again, his tongue and mouth still abusing your sensitive nub. He pulled away only long enough to speak in a low, hushed voice. “Love when you say my name like that, kitten,” he grinned and continued to build up your orgasm once again, and boy were you close.

“Freddy, baby, I’m gonna cum, soon, please–”

His fingers quickly moved in and out of you, curled within you while his tongue darted all around your leaking folds, and he felt your body jerk again, signaling to him that he needed to push you over the edge. His other hand grabbed at your ass and slapped your skin several times, leaving red hand prints across your flesh as you yelped out his name and a few other sounds that carried across the room.

“Yeah, fuck I’m–” Your hands shot up and tangled in his short hair as you arched your back, pushing your pussy against his mouth further until you felt that sweet feeling of his tongue swirling against you while his fingers did all they could to hit that spot.

You finally came, gushing all over his mouth and chin, your sweet juices dripped down onto the sheets below, and your thighs shook so much that your entire body fell slack against the bed. Your breathing was so heavy you thought you wouldn’t be able to breathe. The sweat on your brow dripped down to the pillows as you turned your head, barely able to look up at Fred, who seemed to have fished himself from his pants and began to stroke himself. He loved the look of you looking absolutely ruined because of him, how weak you felt in your legs, and the mere thought of you not being able to run from him enticed him greatly.

“Mhm, you did so well, kitten,” he leaned down and kissed your thigh, “but I’m not even close to being finished with you. You understand?”

You nodded as you watched him get to his feet, his pants hung loosely off his hips as he continued to stroke himself, the smile on his face wasn’t a mask anymore, you could see that this was for you and only for you. You offered a smile as you pushed yourself to sit up, eagerly trying to get to your knees as he sat on the bed beside you.

“Don’t worry, Fred,” you said softly as you replaced his hands with your own, gently stroking him as he let out a satisfied hum, “I promise I can handle it.”

#tinalbion writings #slashers request #slashers x reader #slashers imagine #slashers headcanons #freddy krueger #freddy krueger x reader #freddy krueger imagine #freddy krueger headcanons #human freddy krueger x reader #freddy krueger x afab reader

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king-and-his-consorts · 8 months

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Muse Facts: Romantic Expression

Talking with one of my RP partners earlier got me thinking about the intricacies of how my Zoro and Luffy are both on the aromantic spectrum but in different ways.

Both muses are open to shipping but how they react to being in romantic relationships varies. As I am actually grayromantic, their reactions are based heavily on my own experiences with romantic feelings. I thought I'd take a minute to explore a little bit of how they experience romantic situations.

Luffy almost doesn't feel romantic feelings in the normal sense. He doesn't swoon or preen or do similar things. When in a romantic relationship, Luffy feels a deep well of unspecified emotions when around his partner. His desire to constantly be near his partner is deep. He is hit with an overwhelming need to touch his partner. Not in a sexual way, but rather, literally touch them. Hugs, hand holding, hair petting, trailing his fingers over their skin, touching scars or the bone structure of their face. He'll experience an almost crushing need to be in contact with their their physical warmth.

Don't expect traditionally romantic gestures from him. He doesn't understand them or what they mean. He's not going to buy his partner flowers or invite them out to dinner on a nice date. Instead, his romantic actions take on the form of feeling he is one with his partner. This can look like sharing his food with them, inviting them onto his special seat, or bringing them random objects he suspects they may like (like rocks, shells, or beetles). Being in a romantic relationship tends to feed into Luffy's natural inclination to selfishness and possessive behavior, expressed by him selfishly wanting his partner to spend most of their time with him.

But, of course, he'd rather die than steal his partner's freedom.

Romantic gestures have like a 85% chance to physically make Luffy uncomfortable. Best case scenario, uncomfortable will just meaning cringing. Kissing him on the lips at the wrong time can literally make him nauseous. Deep kisses are almost a complete no-go unless he prepares himself ahead of time (or his partner tastes like meat). Surprise tongue-kisses will result in him shoving his partner away and moving away from them. Pet names are okay as long as they're not overly sappy otherwise they'll make his skin crawl and he'll become agitated. His partner can touch and kiss him anywhere above the belt and he won't mind. But, it's not gonna get much of a response out of him unless he's feeling exceptionally receptive that day.

Zoro doesn't feel romantic feelings most of the time but sometimes out of the blue they will just rabbit punch him in the chest. They're never very intense. It's more of a wistful feeling. If he's in a relationship already, these feelings will cause him to go to his partner and express some form of affection towards them. Since he's never very verbal, he usually expresses his feelings by hugging his partner from behind and either kissing or nuzzling their neck. Possibly followed by affectionate growling and a soft bite. There tends to be a fair bit of biting and holding when Zoro's feeling entranced with his partner.

Much like Luffy, Zoro is trash as expressing romantic gestures. He is just not good. In the small window where he actually feels romantically inclined, he's usually bad at making romantic gestures. His partner's lucky if he even remembers that flowers are romantic. The best case scenario is that he buys his partner their favorite expensive alcohol. That's romantic to him. Now, romantic gestures from his partner can actually fluster Zoro (in a good way). Flowers, dinner, fancy dates, his favorite alcohol. Do any of that for him and he'll become so flustered that he'll probably verbally lash out but he'll be a blushing mess while yelling. He does not process being romanced well.

Zoro's actually quite fond of kissing when the mood hits him. He won't usually initiate kisses or making out because he just doesn't have the urge to. But if his partner kisses him, he'll have no qualms kissing them back. But when he does actually get hit with the urge for a kiss, it'll just be out of the blue and probably post-battle when he's feeling the most riled up.

Zoro is bad at pet names. Like, he's just atrocious at making up pet names. His partner will either get a name that's ridiculous sounding or doesn't fit them at all.

#come sail away || ooc #from whims of freedom | luffy (muse) headcanons #along a lost path | zoro (muse) headcanon #long post

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varioushyperfixations · 2 years

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Eddie headcanons 💕

(these are very much me projecting lmfao)

• Touch-starved as fuck and very physical with friends, especially when he's stoned/drunk

• Man loves fantasy and horror themes ofc

• LOVES animals, especially misunderstood ones like rats and spiders. Considers the trailer park cats his babies

• Doesn't like the texture and/or flavor of most meats

• Paints everyone's nails for them and/or helps put eyeliner on them

• He draws, and he draws WELL! Mostly D&D stuff, but he also draws his friends (mostly Steve) and doodles a lot

• Eddie stims: Playing with his own or Steve's hair, fidgeting with loose threads on his clothes or his jewelry, tapping (especially to music), rocking, leg bouncing, rubbing his face on Steve's chest especially if he's wearing a soft shirt, hard squeezy bear hugs

• EDDIE WITH A TONGUE PIERCING EDDIE WITH A TONGUE PIERCING EDDIE WITH A TONGUE PIERCING!!! He'd get it to celebrate his graduation 🥺

• Has stick & poke tattoos from when he was 15-17

• Has nightmares and panic attacks

• Skateboards, but he's not that great at it. He tries to teach Steve, but he falls on his ass too many times and gives up

• Wears Steve's sweaters when he's cold/alone

• Cracks his knuckles, neck and back constantly and Steve HATES the sound of it

• Didn't learn how to properly swim until he was 20

• Can't fall asleep without music. When Steve sleeps over, he plays softer music so the other can sleep, but he could fall asleep listening to louder/heavier music just fine

• Can't fall asleep without cuddling a pillow or person (aka Steve)

#eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things headcanons #stranger things 4 #steddie #steddie headcanons #my headcanons #save #my post

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rmoonstoner · 2 years

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My own personal headcanon about the Moon boys:

When you meet Jake, he falls head over heels for you, and he is overly flirtatious with you, not afraid to show you just how much he adores you. I imagine him to be like Gomez Adams, calling you pet names in Spanish and kissing your arm, displaying his affections openly for anyone to see. He is a jealous lover, and he cannot stand you even talking to other men at all, but he bites his tongue, knowing you'll yell at him if he tries to overstep. He will, however, slit a man'sthroat if they hurt you. He would lavish you in expensive gifts that he acquires from his missions, or buy you flowers all the time, but not the cheap kind. He is sexually promiscuous, and always open to trying new and kinky things. He secretly enjoys corrupting Steven, by showing him exactly what he does to you in bed. He'll even bubble up and give Steven advice on how to please you. He is a feral dom in the bedroom, and a sweetheart outside of it to only you, while he scowls and glares at anyone else he has to deal with.

When you meet Steven, he would also fall head over heels in love. He is subtle in his flirtatious behavior, calling you basic British terms of endearment (love, sweetheart, darling) until he's comfortable and confident that you won't be disgusted or laugh at the more thought out and sexual names. He also likes to give you things, but he's more of a make it himself kind of guy. I wouldn't put it past him to learn how to sew, just so you could have an outfit you saw in an anime or a movie. He enjoys cooking for you, even if it's not vegan. He secretly loves the smell of meat cooking, but he'd never admit that to you. He does get jealous, but he knows you'd never do anything to hurt him, so he minds his own business, giving you the benefit of the doubt every time, even if Jake or Marc are chomping at the bit to stab a bitch in your name. Steven is also very sexually promiscuous, but he's less vocal on tell you what he wants, as he's more focused on you then himself. He is very gentle and nice, but when Jake gets into his ear, he becomes a pleasure dom, showing Jake that sometimes a gentle hand can draw more sweet noises and orgasms from you than just having your body fucked like an animal.

When you meet Marc, he is reluctant to show you any affection, mostly because you love his alters so much, he figures you like them more than him, the first occupant of the body. He always feels like he is never enough, even when you tell and show him otherwise, or demand to see him fronting and not the other two. He also enjoys leaving you small tributes, but they are subtle. You favorite drinks or snacks mysteriously show up in the kitchen, and is always stocked. He barely calls you anything but by your name, but he turns down right nasty as fuck in the bedroom, using names like pretty little whore. He usually enjoys edging you for hours, until you cry or pass out, and he usually doesn't allow you to pass out. He doesn't like public displays of affection, and he sometimes comes off as though he doesn't even like you., but if anyone ever tries to hit on you, he's the one that flips his shit, not caring if you're mad at him for it or not. He enjoys cuddling with you, but he often pretends he is Steven, figuring he doesn't deserve to be loved, but you know. You always know.

🌙 🌟 ❤️ 💙 🧡 🌟 🌙

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yennasun · 1 year

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The test

Summary: after his thriller with shavers, creator had decided there was no more money to be made on the Middleweight division. Midas begins to grow into his own body and puts more weight on to make the jump. He had a bumpy start at first but finally made his way into a contender fight with a man much like himself both strategically and defensively

-------------------------------------

Ever since his thrilling 9 round slugfest with shavers, he defended his title a few more times against another 16 contenders. He'd also chased a rematch with dark lord at Middleweight, but it fell through when he moved up a weight class, Rooney firmly expressed his belief that dark wanted no part in a rematch but Midas knew better.

After stopping the #6 contender in 8 rounds, he went back to the PC with a plate full of various meats and rice.

He nearly squealed in delight like a schoolgirl and had to bite his tongue, because it could very well be another one of creators sick jokes.

He turned to creator and pointed to himself; "for me?" He asked hopefully.

Creator nodded, and Midas needed no pretenses as he dug into the plate.

He thought it was a reward for once, until creator explained his reasoning.

"It's clear that there's nothing left for us at Middleweight, so you're jumping up...up to light heavyweight." He announced

"Sir, are you sure about this? I mean, there's some real killers in that division..." Rooney asked

"Yes I'm sure, it's the only way he'll get any challenging fights. This is happening." He said firmly to shut down any potential arguments.

The next few months of training had been rigorous and harsh, with calisthenics and weighted exercises mixed in to add more weight in muscle.

But with the new physical pressure came mental pressure, Midas began to answer things that had never been asked. He'd speak to someone in an empty room, Rooney asked, and he was just as surprised that Rooney didn't hear them.

Rooney had no idea what to say, he'd never seen anything like it.

"They tell me what I need to do, like during a fight. Sometimes they just keep me company but most of the time they want me to do really bad things... I want them to stop." He nearly pleaded.

"Want who to stop?"

"You can't hear them?!" He asked surprised

Rooney had left it at that, best not to pry or try to help on something he knew nothing about. He did plan on getting him checked though...

With all this pressure, Midas had only just turned 16, but this came with an upside. He hit another growth spurt that saw him stand slightly taller than both Rooney and creator at 6'1.

One day, he stepped on the scale and weighed in at 179 lbs even, he smiled once he saw that he made the weight limit.

However, the trend of tough matchmaking and unfair judging would continue to plague his career as it had in the past.

Despite the extra weight and height making him have to rethink all his strategies and fighting style as a whole, creator still decided to match him against the #9 light heavyweight contender, It was a tough fight but him, Rooney, and the crowd thought he done enough to edge the decision given the boos once it was announced.

He dropped another decision to the #10 contender, and Midas ditched his safety-first approach, trading his bicycle in for a bulldozer.

This was mainly because of the swift and brutal punishment inflicted on him after each loss and it got worse and worse. He decided what his opponents could do to him didn't hold a candle to what creator would do...

He went on a rampage through the division, avenging both of his losses by knockout and stopping 6 out of the other 7 contenders.

He now used his newfound height and reach to his advantage but that didn't mean he could hang at close to mid range, in fact he still excelled at those ranges because his hands got faster.

He's found himself firmly placed as the #2 contender and was on a fast track for a contender eliminator bout to see who'd get a shot at the dark lords title.

They hadn't known who this...Wilfred pedróza guy was, only that he took dark to a very close decision that many thought could go either way.

They watched film of pedróza and saw someone who was so fast, there should be a rule against it.

The man put on absolute clinics against world-class fighters and made it look easy.

His fast hands, accurate punches and slick defense had earned him the nickname El Radàr..

The Amp rounds only enhanced this perception, as his speed power had allowed him to throw fast, sharp punches from impossible angles leading to death by a thousand cuts.

That wasn't a joke either, Midas gagged at how cut and bloody some of his opponents looked post-fight.

But there were 2 things Midas could take advantage of, pedróza's stamina failed him from time to time. There was another thing, too.

"I think I could catch him if I blow an area up..." he suggested

"That's a good idea...yeah...yeah that could work!" Rooney exclaimed.

"You could out-last him too." Rooney said

"It could...all right, you two are gonna work on its stamina and defense. And show it some of those tricky feints you used to do." Creator pointed to Rooney and the two nodded.

He wasn't lying when he said they were gonna work on Midas' cardio, he used to be able to got 25 rounds but now he would probably go close to 40, he actually had a difficult time keeping the weight he'd gained.

He'd also worked on his already immaculate defense until he was slippery as an eel covered in olive oil.

Rooney also showed him a trick to feint by keeping his hands moving in a rhythm but breaking that rhythm every now and then, similar to how he did with his footwork.

Speaking of which, he worked his footwork to be able to switch stances even more fluidly to find hidden angles unavailable to others only locked in once stance. He also practiced finding traditional angles at long range with head, shoulder and foot feints.

Eventually, fight night came and he was ready, nervous but ready notheless.

Once again, creator told the two he'd be watching and Rooney hit the link and they were transported to the desert map; oasis.

Rooney stayed in the dressing room to help Midas wrap his hands and held him get warmed up before it was time to make the entrance.

They walked into the scathing hot sun and stayed in their corner as the ref began to announce.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our main event, a title eliminator match. In the red corner, weighing it at 177 pounds even, standing at 6 foot and-a-half, with a record of 172 wins, 2 losses and 103 big wins by way of knockout, introducing the number one light heavyweight contender, Wilfred "El Radár" pedróza!"

"And in the blue corner, weighing in at 179 pounds even, standing at 6 feet 1 inches, with a record of 160 wins, 3 losses with 152 big wins by way of knockout! Introducing former Middleweight Champion of the world and number two light heavyweight contender, MIDAS"

The two stepped in the middle of the arena and eyed eachother as the ref laid out instructions.

"Alright gentlemen, I wanna see a good clean fight. Keep your punches up and obey my commands at all times, touch up now." The two bummed fists and backed up.

The buzzer sounded, and the two got to a slow start.

They took turns jabbing at each other, and that had been Midas' plan from the get-go; to establish his jab to put pedróza on the back foot.

The only problem was that very few of them were landing.

Even when his opponents was a southpaw with a right jab that came at weird angles, pedróza seemed to be able to seamlessly step in and out of range to leave him hitting air.

Once Wilfred began jabbing back Midas immediately noted the sting and snap in each but still managed to sneak in some sneaky jabs.

The first ended up going to pedróza.

The second started off much the same way, but Midas began to move his hands more to feint and followed pedróza after he stepped back.

This soon proved to be a terrible idea as he was caught with a sharp right hand over his jab, he wasn't stunned or wobbled but it made him think.

Instead, Midas shortened his steps to bait the right hand out and soon repaid the favor by landing a quick right hook at the end of the round.

The third started slowly as well, but this time both fighters kept their hands moving with pedróza showing an educated effort in avoiding the jab while landing his own.

In the middle of the round, Midas got impatient and threw a long combination, but they all hit open air.

Pedróza came back with his own combo but Midas showcased his own defense by slipping each one.

Towards the end of the round, he noticed pedróza would step slightly to the left with his lead foot every time he was about to jab.

He used this tell to land a straight left down the middle that glanced him.

The second and third were closer, but still went to pedróza.

In the 4th, Midas slowly built momentum off of his jab, feints and timing.

Even still, any offense he threw back was slipped or ducked. Conversely, any offense pedróza threw was also slipped and ducked.

The two had reached a stalemate for the next 2 rounds but it just wouldn't do, pedróza was still winning the battle of the jabs and it showed in the scorecard.

Already down 6 rounds to none, Midas had to start pouring on the pressure but he'd gathered enough knowledge of pedróza to do so in a calm and cool manner.

For all of pedróza's unreadable straight punches, he telegraphed the hell out of his hooks.

He went out in the 7th and tightened his guard but moved his head off-line to make pedroza miss.

He began connecting with hooks to the body that had much more leverage due to Midas' increased arm span, but it still wasn't enough.

Pedróza was still coming back with sharp rights over his arm and connecting.

With that aside though, their new game plan was going accordingly.

"Go to his body, yank those punches from below. Remember "the thunder from down under" Just like the old days." Rooney had instructed.

Midas was taking action appropriately, he may have to drop a couple rounds but at least he began making progress.

In the end of the 7th, he shifted to orthodox after feigning a straight left and connected with a tremendous left hook in his side, making pedróza wince audibly.

He went back to his corner, cut up quite a bit, but not so much that he couldn't see. Other than that, he was unharmed.

Meanwhile pedróza went back to his corner clutching his side.

The two began to pick up the pace in the 8th, with pedróza beginning to land his lengthy combinations, but Midss still managed to dodge most of the fire.

He began to throw his own, going for 3 punches, then 4 when pedróza dodged them, then 5, then 6.

When he threw lengthier combos he noticed he was able to catch pedróza right on the tail end of them. Not only that, but he imposed his footwork, handspeed and offense so aggressively that pedróza was forced to go defensive, being unable to set up his own offense.

In the 9th, pedróza had slowed just a bit but landed a sharp 4 punch combination at the beginning of the round.

Then he landed another 5, and 3 more to boot.

He tried landing 2 more but Midas intercepted the first punch with a looping left that he set up by slipping to his right and sneaking his right foot forwards to shift to southpaw.

Pedróza was rocked and Midas threw 9 punches, interchanging between the head and body.

Pedroza was forced to cover up but he didn't relent and threw another long combo, pedróza's defense still held up.

Even if Midas managed to catch him, it was still only with the last 1 or 2 punches, but he was still landing punches.

Soon pedróza came back hard with sharp combos of his own but Midas was still fresh, even in the later rounds and managed to defend properly. The few that got through weren't enough to deter, let alone hurt him.

The 7th and 8th and 9th had been scored for Midas, but that was only 3 rounds to make up for the 6 he lost. Thankfully, though, pedróza had slowed down more.

In the 10th, Midas came out fast, throwing seemingly unending combinations using one punch to set up the next, and using that punch to set up the next and so on.

He used his shifting footwork more and more, moving one direction before swiftly switch stances and landing more punches before exiting at awkward angles.

Bur pedróza proved he had a strong jaw for when his defense failed him, as he was able to hang at close to mid range with Midas and landing his own accurate blows which bloodied his face up so bad the ref was forced to call a timeout.

He called the doctor over to inspect his wounds, and Midas began to panic at the thought of being stopped on cuts.

"Can you still see?" The doctor asked

"I'm not missing him, am i?" Midas asked sarcastically.

The doctor allowed the fight to continue but pedróza had been given precious seconds to recover.

Pedroza swiftly jabbed and moved, looking to make the cuts worse and succeeding, but Midas managed to corner him and emptied a whopping 13 punch combination and landed with 4 that rocked pedróza.

The 10th was scored evenly, but Midas almost had pedróza right where he wanted him.

Rooney stressed for him to really turn up the pressure in the next 2 rounds.

"You gotta really bore into him, go in and try to get him outta there. If you can't do that then at least set him up so that you can get him in the next. Focus the body but go up top as well." Midas nodded and stepped out quickly.

Pedróza's left hand dropped down and he was still able to land swift punches, but his blows had lost their snap.

Midas spent the whole round throwing punches every single second.

He alternated between the head and body. He looked dangerously close to stopping pedróza but he would always rally back to trade combinations with him before covering back up.

Towards the end, the two accidentally clashed heads but only pedróza was able to get his head down in Time and it caused a particularly nasty vertical gash on Midas' forehead.

He walked back to his corner and the blood had begun to trickle down his shoulders and chest 2 rounds ago, Rooney had to put his cutman skills to good use in order to even clean the crimson mask off him.

Once he did, there were far too many cuts to count and it was nothing short of a miracle that they hadn't stopped the fight.

"Look at him, he's tired and his defense is gone! You take the fight to that fucker and he won't know what hit him!" Rooney urged MT.

Except it didn't, not yet anyways.

He came out like an attack dog, but to pedróza's credit, he started strong. But Midas, fueled by desperation, began mauling him viciously.

After rounds and rounds and rounds of hard work, it was all about to pay off.

Pedróza had still been able to throw short combinations, but doing that only opened him up more. Besides, Midas'defense was still immaculate this late while Wilfred's had slowly been ground down and eroded.

Had the round gone on for 10 more seconds, Midas surely would've gotten the stoppage but the buzzer sounded anyways.

He'd begun to come back on the scorecards, but he was still down 4 rounds.

Rooney reminded him of their plan should it go to the Amp rounds.

"Remember, don't try and hit him directly, go for the area he's in."

The two stepped forwards but only pedróza was hunched over and breathing through his mouth.

"Alright boys it's the Amp rounds, anything goes. Touch up now" the ref ordered.

They powered up, backed up, and the buzzer sounded.

Pedróza sped up immediately, landing several damaging combinations, but Midas let off an explosion that forced pedróza back.

He then used his overheat ability to time him better but pedróza seemed to be impossible to read in this state.

Midas settled for ballistic jumping back and sending thermobaric blasts at pedróza.

Pedróza used the smoke to mask his advance and landed so many punches Midas was forced to cover up for the first time.

He stomped his foot to let off another explosion and hurt pedróza badly.

He began to hear the friends in his head telling him what to do, to maul him, maim him...to kill him, but he couldn't afford to lose himself just yet, he had to cling to sanity for just a bit longer.

The buzzer sounded and the two went back to their corners.

"Keep doing what you're doing, he's hurting and doesn't know what to do so he's just running at you in a straight line. Use that to your advantage."

Midas went back out and got more mobile.

He dashed and jumped in multiple directions to throw off pedróza's advance before countering with harsh punches or projectiles.

He constantly had to fight with himself to stay grounded, he had to remain tactical to set up his finish.

This trend continued and he managed to get the best of pedróza who held on until the bell sounded again.

"You know what kid, I'm gonna say it. You'll get him out this round, he's got nothing left but willpower and you're gonna break that willpower."

Midas practically ran out, having not slowed down on bit, and pedróza actually tried to run away.

Pedróza had seen him as nothing more than a name opponent and knew he was up on the scorecards, he even knew he was close to stopping him on cuts. His trainers continued to urge him to do what he was doing but now he was spent.

He was exhausted, beaten and afraid. He didn't wanna be here anymore, he didn't wanna fight anymore.

Midas lost himself among the voices. He not only listened to them but also gave them full control.

He let off several explosions that stunned pedróza, he let volcanic crystals cover his arms and hands and saw the outline of pedróza through the smoke.

He ran in, teeth gnashing and breaths coming out in snarls and committed one of the most terrible finishes ever seen.

Landing thudding punch after punch right on pedróza's chin while he simply stood there with his hands down trying to fight back but taking each and every one being wobbled and eventually out on his feet.

The ref came between the two and waved the fight off, as Midas had most likely done enough permanent damage to pedroza.

Pedróza looked at the ref, and then around at his surroundings with his mouth open, he clearly didn't know where he was.

The crowd roared loud and through the blood, sweat and cuts that stung because of the sweat, he raised his arms and smiled.

Rooney when to my to congratulate him but was met with 179 pounds of limp mango falling right into his arms.

At least he thought at the time it was 179 pounds, a hospital visit and prompt weight in would show he was 166 pounds, losing over 10 pounds over the course of the fight.

Pedróza, despite the loss, would still go on to be legendary but just like shavers, his confidence was shattered.

He'd remember the nightmares he had of the helpless pain and agony he'd felt during the fight, it was like Midas locked him and a cage of pain and threw the key away right in front of him.

The losses would pile up but he wouldn't be knocked out, even so he'd still take the light heavyweight title once Midas and dark moved to cruiserweight and would retire as a legend, only being knocked out once by Midas.

Midas hadn't come out unscathed either. Once the bleeding stopped and the scabs healed, he started his morning routine before looking in the mirror.

He nearly screamed at the whatever was staring back at him.

The face staring back had been a piccasso painting of scarred gashes, that couldn't have been him right?

He went to Rooney and asked if he looked...weird.

"Do I...look bad?" He asked

"What? No bud you look fine." He reassured with a smile.

"Do I have any...things on my face?"

"Oh those? They're just scars kid, everyone gets em at some point." He patted him on the shoulder.

"...w-will they ever go away?" He asked

"Nah, they're there to stay...but it's not all that bad..." Rooney said.

He ran back to the mirror and stared in shock.

I'm hideous...

He'd never cared about his appearance that much but he looked like a whole different person, like someone else's face was on his body.

Rooney rushed in after him, trying to console him.

"Look, it's really not that bad. Some people like scars!" He tried to cheer.

Midas let his head droop down, and Rooney felt his heart sink.

"...listen, if you really want to...I can show you a couple tricks to hide em, but you really shouldn't hide who you are right?"

Rooney showed him how to apply basic makeup to mask the scars while keeping his skin looking natural but masking them meant they were still there, a constant reminder and something that'd stick with him for the rest of his life.

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