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brain-amoeba · 10 months

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i was sent this ask:

"Hello, you! can there be a headcannon where, (Scout, Sniper, demo, and my favorite Texan, engi) hugging S/o and the merc is like: “Oh no I’m in love with them” as their face is all red? And, S/o is sorta worried about them and asking “you good?” this scenario has been itching my brain for a few days lol

Anon jilly🦭🌺"

and i believe you may have forgotten to turn anon on when submitting the ask, so i still saw your url. out of respect for your anonymity, i will answer here instead of from the inbox, so hopefully it still finds you well! also i hope you don't mind i do a mini scenario for these as opposed to HCs, just to give yall a little more content :3

Mercs Getting a Big Ole Hug

Scout

-You two always had a strong bond, and a dynamic like childhood friends. It was always fun and games with Scout, and when the time came, he knew how to comfort you and be there for you albeit in his own clumsy and Scout-y way.

-It wasn't until he noticed the way the other Mercs looked at you did he start to see you as more than just a friend--he now became acutely aware of how soft your skin felt when it brushed up against his, the way your hair perfectly framed your face, every small detail about you, and he couldn't believe he never noticed any of this before.

-It was your day off, and as usual, you spent it with Scout. The two of you tired yourselves out playing catch outside, as well as other fun roughhousing typical of your other pastimes. While running for the ball, you tripped and fell forward, but Scout was quick enough to catch you, and held you in a tight embrace. You instinctively wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head in his chest. He maintains his grip on you, but his face is as red as his uniform--all of a sudden the outside air feels cramped and he's getting clammy. It was like getting hit with his own Atomizer: all the times he's admired every little thing about you coming together all at once to beat him over the head with the realization that he was in love with you.

-You finally let him go, looking up at him and yelping a bit in surprise. "Scout?! What happened to you? Should we go see Medic?!" You ask frantically, concern showing on your scrunched features as you took in Scout's seemingly-ill state. "N-Nah, I'm okay, really! More than that, actually...I feel amazin'." He gazed at you with a softness you hadn't yet seen before, but it sparked a warmth in your heart and your tummy that you didn't oppose.

Sniper

-Sniper wasn't exactly one for PDA, let alone physical touch. Just didn't tickle his fancy. But you, something about you gave Sniper the desire, for the first time in ages, to hold, touch, and generally be around someone of his own volition. But for some reason, he just couldn't find it in himself to act on those desires. Whether it be his own deeply-instilled professionalism or cowardice, he couldn't tell. Whatever it was, all he knew was him being afraid of scaring you off. So he did nothing. The minimal interactions with you now would suffice, and his imagination could do the rest.

-You weren't exactly having the best day. Just yesterday, you scuffed a one-on-one encounter with an enemy merc that cost your team the mission, and today's target practice was not kind to you either. You found yourself alone on the range, tears of frustration pooling in your [color] eyes as you trudged along to set up the target dummy Sniper once again. Overwhelmed by frustration, you found yourself hugging the Sniper dummy for even the slightest sense of comfort, dropping your rifle to the dust below with a thud. The real Sniper, who had volunteered to check on you, heard the sound of your rifle hitting the ground as he left the base. The impact immediately spiked his adrenaline and caused the worst thoughts to run through his mind. He quickened his pace, almost falling over in place once he beheld the scene. Sniper couldn't help but feel a tug on his heartstrings watching you embrace the dummy of him. A warm flush crept its way to his rugged features as he realized the depth of his feelings for you way-exceeded his expectations.

-It's now or never, he thought to himself, finally finding the courage to approach you. He put a large gloved hand on your shoulder, eliciting a fearful shriek from you. Your face reddened with embarrassment, stammering as you tried to come up with a good excuse for your behavior. Wordlessly, Sniper wrapped you up in a tight embrace which immediately soothed your worries. "Shhh. It's alright, roo. Don't cry, now." He spoke just above a whisper, and despite being there to comfort you, he himself was trembling with anxiety at what he's just done. When you finally gathered yourself and parted from the Aussie's embrace, your eyes widened. "Sniper! What's gotten into you?!" He looked down at you with a slight smile, as if it would conceal the way his heart pounded in his chest.

"You have, sheila."

Demoman

-He wasn't always drunk! Okay, maybe he was, but that didn't mean he was always unaware. He was especially aware of a certain little merc who always took him to bed, always got him water, and always made sure to wish him a goodnight, even when the rest left him to drink himself to oblivion. He thought of you very fondly, like a close friend more than just a colleague. You were the first of the bunch to ever show a genuine compassion for him and actually attempt to care for him even in his drunken state (and he knew that was no easy feat).

-It was another night like always, the rest of the team off taking care of their own business while Demo had some precious one-on-one time with his scrumpy, this time accompanied by you! And you were actually drinking with him! It was the weekend, after all, and you decided what the hell, why not, and let your hair down a little. While not nearly as intoxicated as your Scottish companion, you definitely felt the buzzy warmth of drunkenness sneaking up on you. You felt more bubbly, confident, and silly. You gazed upon Demo fondly as he slurred through stories of missions, both failures and successes.

-Right as he was getting to the story's climax, he raised his arms above his head for dramatic affect, and you impulsively leapt into them. "Awwe Tavichhh, I wuv when you tell stowiesss" you mumbled into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as if he'd leave you any second. The sudden show of affection almost sobered Demo up a bit, but he quickly dropped his arms and returned your embrace. In his drunken state, the warmth of your body against his felt like fire, and he couldn't help but notice the way you fit perfectly into him. Demo soon grabbed your shoulders, moving you back to meet his gaze. The sudden serious look on his face sent a shiver down your spine. "D-demo! What's the matter?!" He took in your flushed face as if he were looking upon the Mona Lisa herself before finally speaking, "Oh it's nothin, lass. I just enjoy lookin' at ye."

Engineer

-You were lucky enough to get some time off when you were informed this go-round of contracts did not include you. To your surprise, they didn't include Engie, either. You discovered this when you bolted for the workshop in a panic as you realized your prized headphones were destroyed! You were about to go on a walk before fishing them from your backpack and soon met with the disappointment of your prized possession in tatters--wires frayed, and hanging down almost mockingly.

-As you busted through the double doors of Engineer's workshop, he jumped in surprise, nearly dropping his wrench. "Well howdy to yourself too, darlin'!" He regained his bearings and approached you with a chuckle. "What's got you in such a tizzy, hm?" You simply raised the broken pair of headphones up*, looking at him like a lost puppy. "M-my headphones are destroyeeeddd!" You whined. Engie, behind his goggles, looked at you with a twinge of pain in his eyes just from hearing how distraught you were. Though he was empathetic to your "loss", he couldn't help but admire how adorable you sounded when you whimpered, and got a bit of an ego-boost from how you immediately came to him for aid. Engie took the headphones from you, inspecting them closely as he set them down on a nearby workbench. "Y'know, dear, these might not be a lost cause...let's see what some good ole fashioned Texan ingenuity can do!" He assured you with a sly smile.

-You fidgeted nervously as you watched over his shoulder while he tinkered away on your poor headphones. "Can I get you somethin' to drink darlin'? Maybe some water?" Engineer didn't take his eyes off the headphones as he spoke, currently re-twisting and wrapping wires before getting to work on the broken frame of the device. "I'm okay, thank you, Engie..." Truthfully, you were just too nervous to take your eyes off of the headphones while Engineer repaired them. Of course, you trusted his skillful hand, but with them being such a meaningful item to you, you couldn't help but hover over his shoulder and watch. Suddenly, Engie spoke up again, this time with a command-- "Close your eyes, dear." Nervously, you did as you were told. Engineer turned to face you, gently placing the repaired headphones on your head. Your eyes shot open and hands immediately went up to feel the newly repaired device now muffling your hearing.

-Without a second thought, you pulled Engie into a tight embrace. "Engie, you're the best!! Thank you so much!" You exclaimed, nuzzling his chest a bit as the two of you embraced. His large gloved hand gently caressed your back, giving it a slight pat in response to your praise. While Engineer typically maintained a relaxed exterior, internally, he was practically melting. A proper southern gentleman such as himself couldn't be indecent in the presence of a lady, but the fog on his goggles and pink in his cheeks said otherwise. You pulled away, removing the headphones. You went to inspect them further, but the sight before you stopped you dead in your tracks. "Engie?! You feeling alright??" He looked like he was about to pass out--and he felt like it, too.

-Engineer simply nodded, placing his ivory-colored cowboy hat on your head in response.

*this is exactly what i envisioned for this scene btw

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 x reader #scenarios #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #dell conagher #mick mundy #tavish degroot #anon #requests

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love-toxin · 1 year

Note

Okay but Eddie being the babysitter for you and Steve! And getting thrown into the family because the two of you cannot keep your hands off of him. And he loves the love

ehe <33 i went a lil feral <333

cws: dilf!steve + milf!sunday school teacher!angelface, babysitter!eddie, age gap (38-40, and 22), fears of infidelity (but its resolved), masturbation, pillow humping, (a+v) fingering, throat fucking, ball worship, rimming, assplay, scent kink, angel has a cum kink, threesome, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, sub!eddie, dom!steve, switch!angel, fem reader.

word count: 8.8k (90% smut)

Edward is so, so cute.

You noticed his look at first--the aesthetic he's got going on is really quite something, with the ripped jeans, and the hair, and the....the rings on those long, thick fingers. He was a little off-putting at first because he wasn't transparently shy, more blunt than anything else as he introduced himself. He's not like some of the other young girls and boys you and your husband had sifted through, almost all of them preppy young teenagers or prepubescent middle schoolers looking for a crack at their first job.

Edward--Eddie, is a little older than that. Which some might find strange or untrustworthy, but he's only around twenty-two, so still young. They would find him uncouth for many other reasons anyways, so it's not really a bother--you and Steve wanted someone older, someone more mature and hopefully more responsible anyways, because you've been looking for a long-term sitter and the high schoolers you picked before....oh, Steve was not happy when you came home early and found them throwing a party in your house, while your son was fast asleep in his room.

On the other hand, your check-ins with Eddie over the last few months have been stellar. Not only has he managed to follow all your rules, but your son absolutely adores him. It's hard enough at your respective ages, with you at 38 and Steve hitting 40 this year, to wrangle a seven-year-old with his own agenda. But Casey has taken to Eddie like a bee to honey and he seems to have no trouble getting him through his daily routines. Toothbrushing, bedtime, and eating vegetables is like a dream when it's in Eddie's hands--the kid thinks he's a god, and Eddie's so thrilled whenever he can talk to your son about his hobbies, so it's a match made in heaven. He's even started reading The Hobbit to him before bedtime, and you can see the joy on Steve's face whenever his son climbs up into his lap and starts excitedly chattering to him about orcs, and dwarves, and dragons, and whatever else tickles his fancy. You're sure it's because he reminds him of Dustin in those moments, and it's just so sweet.

Of course, a couple moms and older ladies at your church meetings had expressed worry at first, discontent even with your choice of caretaker, but you've been quite happy to report nothing but solid results out of the young man over the last few months. Casey's even taken to asking if Eddie can come over and play when you're at home--"Mommy, call Eddie! You and daddy hafta go out, I wanna play dragons!"--so you would think their minds would quickly be changed. But not so.

"He's a fan of that heavy metal music, he can't be good with kids. What if he indoctrinates your son, or converts him? Besides, he deals drugs! You can't ignore that."

Their criticisms fly over your head with nothing to hold them down, and while the drugs do worry you a bit, you have nothing but pure faith in Eddie to keep any of those habits out of your house. He never even smells of smoke when he comes to babysit, and the one time you did catch a whiff of cigarettes when Steve called him in last minute, he apologized and offered to change his clothes as soon as he spotted your nose crinkling up. Such a sweet boy, how could you even try to be upset? Steve lent him an old polo and jeans, and the two of you got a good chuckle before you left at watching him shimmy around in those clothes that were so not his style. But he committed to it because he's just....Eddie. That's just how he is.

And you're not sure when you started thinking of him that way, as Eddie, and not just as your babysitter, but it certainly hasn't gone away on its own. At first it was just a fancy, a cheeky "oh, isn't he cute? I bet the girls love that hair." that you've heard from all manner of female gossip. Even being a Sunday school teacher you aren't immune to it, so you figured that fluttering of your heart when he calls you "Mrs. Harrington" would go away with time.

But it hasn't. And the fear has been growing--what's wrong with you, you've wondered? You've been with Steve for years, and not once have you ever been charmed by someone other than your husband, not to the extent of thinking about them when you're with him. Steve's always been the love of your life since you were eighteen, so what could have possibly changed in all those years? Is it a midlife crisis? Or are you just a terrible person for thinking about another man, a younger man, while you're next to your husband in bed?

It isn't until you start noticing things about Steve that you realize that you might not be the only one, and that it might not be just a you problem. At first it's subtle, a "Hey Eddie, you wanna stay for a drink?" after Casey's gone to bed and you've both arrived home from your date. Then you notice the looks he's giving him--the long, lingering stares when Eddie laughs or flips his hair over his shoulder, sometimes a flicker of a look when he bends over. And soon after that, you notice that he's getting further from Eddie. Steve's buying you more gifts, and your sex life ramps up dramatically; you go from two or three times a week to every night, Steve moaning into your ear that he loves you, he loves you so much, and that worries you even more. By then, has he already strayed? Are you watching his guilt unfold after he's broken the vows of your marriage?

Clearly that's not the case when you get some time alone with Eddie, though. It's quite obvious that he has no earthly idea of your feelings or of Steve's, and there isn't a single clue of some kind of secret affair that you can find. In some ways, you feel a little stupid for searching for one in the first place, because maybe you're just projecting your own guilt on to your poor, sweet husband.

That is until you catch Steve in the shower late at night, jerking off and moaning Eddie's name into his hand. If that isn't a tell, literally nothing could be. But it's a fortunate affair if not incredibly humiliating and shameful for your husband in the moment, shock and pain clear in his eyes when you pull the curtain back and catch him red-handed. It's adorable actually, seeing him so guilty and apologetic as he tries to tell you how much he loves you, and how he's so ashamed of himself but he doesn't know what to do--he certainly wasn't expecting you to admit your own feelings, nor for that humiliation to turn into lust as he pinned you to the shower wall and didn't let you down until the water ran cold.

After that, you came to a crossroads, and you both had to be honest with yourselves. Should you let him go? You both knew how desperately he needed the money, and you were sure it would devastate Casey not to have him around anymore, but how ethical would it be to be paying someone you both want to sleep with? What if your feelings leaked out and Eddie felt pressured to stay, or worse, felt he couldn't leave because of the money? It's such a difficult decision that you just had to leave it for a while, too wrapped up in your emotions to make a proper choice--you both just decided to keep things hidden for now, at least until you can find a better solution than firing him out of the blue for reasons beyond his control.

It doesn't stay that way, though. It certainly doesn't. Because now, you're living day to day with Eddie on your mind, and tonight's the night that you're not so sure it's completely one-sided anymore.

It's just barely past two am, and your key clicks so quietly in the lock that even you can barely hear it. You and Steve have been off on a couple's vacation for the weekend, but contrary to what you were hoping, you're both feeling more exhausted than refreshed. First, the hotel you'd booked months in advance had sold your room out from under you, and you were forced to find a much cheaper, much dingier one to sleep in at the last minute. Then Steve had his wallet stolen, and you spent the better part of your first vacation day calling people and looking around the resort for it. Then some drunk guy at the restaurant Steve had proposed to you in started harassing you, and the two of you were kicked out for Steve's less than delicate way of handling the situation, which was to clock the douchebag in the face after he called you a whore. And now you've just spent hours in traffic trying to get home early, so when you stumble into the front hallway of your home and kick your shoes off, you're so grateful you're ready to head right to bed and pass out.

"Hey, let's go tell Eddie he can go home, first." Steve whispers with a hand on your shoulder, aware and cautious of the fact that your son is definitely sleeping at this time of night. To top it all off, Eddie had called that first evening to tell you that your son had a fever and wasn't feeling well, as if your luck wasn't bad enough already.

"Let's pay him for the whole night, though. Give him a good tip for cleaning up Casey's puke."

"Of course. Aren't you so generous, Mrs. Harrington?" He chuckles, and with his loafers kicked off, he leans down and sweeps you right off your feet like you weigh nothing, and hurries on light feet up the stairs as if you're a bride again and he's rushing to toss you into your marriage bed. You pass by Casey's room and hear nothing, and Steve only lets you down when you reach the other side of the hall where the corner is, to peek into the guest bedroom that you've designated for Eddie. But when you do, and even when you flip on the light, you realize right away that he's not there--there's not even an inkling of a lump under the covers, which immediately flips your mind to worry after you've been on edge for the last three days. A reassurance is just about to fly off Steve's lips over your shoulder, something about how he might've gone for a walk, because his van was still parked in your driveway when you pulled in.

But as soon as you step back and pull the door closed, you hear it. Down the second hallway at the very end, where the master bedroom sits with the door firmly shut.

"Fuck..."

Your eyes both widen, and you share a look with your brown-eyed husband that screams pure shock. That was definitely Eddie. And that was absolutely, indisputably, without a doubt a moan.

Neither of you say a word, you're too nervous to even breathe, but Steve's features twist with anger before he can counteract it. You can both deal with your feelings about Eddie later, but having a stranger in your house while you're gone, and having sex? That's absolutely disrespectful, and you get why your husband is so flustered and stiff as he stalks down the hall towards the cream-coloured door. You follow close behind, like a rabbit on soft paws as you hurry to huddle up behind him--but just as he's grit his teeth and got his hand on the doorknob, you hear something else.

"Fuck...Mr. Harrington-"

His voice lilts, trills up to get a little louder, before his noises are muffled again--he must have clamped a hand over his mouth, but you're too caught up with the fact that your babysitter just moaned your husband's name. You can be sure now that your suspicions were wrong and that there isn't someone in there with him, because it's only his ragged breathing on the other side of the door....and you can hear the hard, sharp shuck shuck shuck of a soft, wet hand gripping the shaft of his cock, just like all those weeks ago when you caught Steve rubbing one out to the thought of Eddie in the same way. Your nails dig into Steve's baby blue golf shirt and it draws his attention down to you, the fury completely evaporated into a hot, red flush burning across his face.

In those strained few seconds, it's not your husband that opens the door. You reach past him and graze his hand as you do it yourself, carefully turning the knob and pushing it forward slowly enough that it doesn't make a sound. Relief washes over you.

Because otherwise, you wouldn't have got to see what's waiting for you in your own bed. Eddie's Iron Maiden t-shirt is rucked up, his pants and boxers in a heap on the floor, and he's hunched over your bed with one hand gripping something beneath him. You peek a little closer, and see that it's your pillow--your pillow, the one that lays on your side, pinned between his hairy thighs and cushioning his hard, rosy-tipped cock that's absolutely drenched in what you can only guess is his own spit and lube. There's clearly a big, damp patch on the dark blue fabric just beneath him, where you can see his balls squishing up against it every time he rocks into it, and...fuck. If you knew how often he had done this, you would've started humping your own pillow a lot sooner.

"Mr. Harrington, fuck--fuck, she feels so good..." Now it's your turn to warm up, Steve's hair tickling your cheek as he looks over your shoulder with just as much entrancement. You watch with bated breath as Eddie pounds your poor pillow into the bed, the hand he was muffling himself with finally spared to reach behind him and slowly work its way down--and you can't miss how slick his fingers are, his hips stopping for a moment or two so he can find the spot he's looking for. "S'gonna be okay, I can take it, I know you're big, I can take it,"

That cute, taut little rim slides open easily with the lube, but Eddie still moans and his hips kick up on instinct when he pushes a finger inside. It isn't until he starts bucking again that you finally notice the hand sliding down your ass, and your squeak of shock gets smothered by your husband's other hand as he claps it over your face, murmuring so quietly into your ear not to move as his fingers travel further. The flimsy sundress he convinced you to wear is obviously coming in handy for him, because your panties move easily and in moments, he's got two huge, hot fingers buried inside your cunt and your slick dripping all over his wrist.

"M-Mrs. Harrington--please, please let me cum, I'll be so good-" Eddie pants, completely oblivious to the squirming woman in the doorway and her husband's pants tenting as his cock strains for warmth. "I-I'll never cum in your panties again, I promise! I'll save all my cum for your pussy,"

You choke at that, and you're yanked back into your husband's chest with a hush and a stiff prodding into your lower back. Eddie's so far gone he doesn't notice though, and fortunate for you, because with Steve rubbing your clit as you listen to him call you baby you really aren't going to last long. Especially not when you can see when he hits his own hot spot inside, and buckles like he's just been shot, his face planting square into the sheets as he keeps working his fingers and humping your pillow with his cock leaking everywhere. He's close, so close, and so are you.

"Harder, please, you can be rough with me--you like it when I fuck her, Mr. Harrington? Like when I make your wife cum for me?" Steve only gets deeper, his tongue on your ear as he curls his fingers into that spot that blinds you with hot, white pleasure, and doesn't dare to stop right up until you're so hot it's burning--and then, when Eddie mumbles that next line to himself, it's the one that throws you right over the edge into ecstasy.

"Bet you and your wife love watching me rub one out, dontcha Mr. Harrington?"

He turns his head over his shoulder just in time to watch you crumble in your husband's strong arms, feet scrabbling for purchase on the hardwood as Steve fingers you right through your leg-shaking orgasm--and while you're writhing and whimpering into his hand, you're soaking the floor beneath you with enough clear, slick cum to run a mop clean through.

Eddie knew. Even if he was just guessing, he was definitely doing it for real--and while your head is still floaty and your body still reeling from cumming, Steve pulls his hand away from your cunt and locks the door behind him with the other, pushing you ahead to collapse into your bed next to Eddie. You can smell him, smell that hot musk of sweat and manly aroma, and if you weren't still trembling your mouth would be on his balls right now.

"About time I got to show you my nightly routine, Mrs. Harrington." He sighs, a content smile on his face despite the circumstances. He pulls the pillow out from under him and sets it next to you--and somehow he looks a little surprised when you grab it, and plunge your face into the exact spot where he'd been rubbing his cock all over it. Warm, wet, smelling of him....you flick your tongue out for a taste, and you're even happier to find that it's just as delicious as you imagined.

"Is this a joke?"

"You think I'd risk my best source of income for a joke?"

"Just checking. So you're a pervert." You feel the weight of Steve's body sinking the end of the mattress as he interrogates him, and when you pull the pillow away from your face, you're delighted to see that Eddie's sitting back with a flustered grin as your husband looms over him. Looks a lot more excited than scared, for sure.

"Only in the good way! Can I-" His hand grazes his cock, but Steve grabs his wrist and yanks it away. The other one, the one you know he was using to finger himself, gets grabbed too--but Steve brings those fingers to his lips, and slowly, intently sucks each one into his mouth without breaking their shared gaze. It's not until the last one gets sucked out with a pop that he finally makes his demands.

"Head over the bed. Lay on your back. Honey, can you give me a hand?" His voice turns so sweet when he talks to you, his soft eyes transfixed on the way you glide over the bed with ease. Eddie does exactly as he's told, and turns himself around so he's laid back with his head hanging off the edge, his curls reaching so far they nearly brush the floor. His fingers tremble and dig into the sheets when you get on top of him, but you don't straddle his cock and he whines. He won't have much room to do that again, though, not after you're finished unbuckling your husband's belt and coaxing that third leg he's hiding out from his underwear. He's already left a wet patch in the gray fabric, much like the one Eddie left on your pillow--you're just flush with gifts it seems, including the reward of watching your husband's cock bob out with that dark, flustered tip that stares you both in the face. Eddie sighs in awe, watching from his place with big, bright eyes, and licks his lips hungrily without knowing what's gonna come next.

"I'm not stopping if you gag. But if it hurts, hit my thigh." He leans down to whisper that part, and as you shimmy your way back down Eddie's torso to his lap, you smile to yourself. Your husband's a softie, always has been, always will be. As dominant as he is, he's always so sweet and doting when things need to wind down--or wind up.

"I won't," Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing and his eyes never leaving the sight in front of him. He's in a trance, almost, watching Steve's cock twitch and hang so heavy for him, both with size and with age.

"I'm not asking you, Edward. I'm telling you. Hit. My. Thigh. You understand that?" Finally, he nods and chimes out a "Yes, sir" although your husband sighs regardless.

"Such a brat. Where do you young people get your attitude from?"

"Oh, honey. You sound like a grump! Cut the poor boy some slack--you're gonna do a good job for my hubby, right?" You speak softly, gently pulling his shirt up his chest until it's bunched around his collarbone. He seems to like that pool of arousal that you're leaking all over his belly, especially while you're perched over his happy trail and soaking his bush with your slick, since he's already trying to hump your bare cunt despite being nowhere close to it.

"Yes, ma'am." He rubs your hip affectionately, breath hitching as he leans up to watch you balance on your knees and angle yourself over him, to finally start letting his cock breach your slippery folds. "Y-You want a condom, Mrs. H?"

"No. This'll be a lesson in responsibility. You get my wife pregnant, you'll have to deal with it." Eddie looks back at him in shock, but he doesn't say a word. If anything, it shifts more towards excitement as he waits for you to move--and when you do, when you finally start sinking down on that pretty, girthy cock, Eddie cries out and writhes and grabs your waist for stability but he can't make you stop. You're too wet to try, and the stretch that fills you out when you reach the base....it's not better nor worse than your husband's, but it's different. And you just hope it's as good for Eddie as it is for you.

"How's that feel, sweetheart? Feel okay?" You coo, trying to ignore the delightful scrape of unkempt, wiry hairs against your oversensitive clit. It's even more difficult to keep that pleasure at bay when Eddie's throbbing uncontrollably inside you, and your husband is sweetly, tentatively stroking himself off over Eddie's head as he watches the show.

"F-Fuck my mouth, Mr. H," He suddenly pipes up, reaching back to grab Steve's hips and tug him closer, so his cock is barely a centimetre off his face. "Shut me up before I say something--s-stupid!"

Whatever he's thinking about saying, Steve obviously has the patience to wait to hear it--because he wastes no time in pulling back and aligning his tip with Eddie's parted lips, one hand guiding himself and the other holding his jaw to keep him open as he slowly, carefully works himself inside. Every time Eddie jolts, your hips buck and it stimulates him even more, every inch sinking deeper and deeper until he's whimpering around the obvious bulge of Steve's cock nestled in his throat. It's such a pretty sight, his chest heaving for air and his nose nudging at Steve's heavy balls, spit trailing from his straining lips up his face--and Eddie's taking it so well, you can tell even Steve is pleased to see how trained his throat is to take him already.

"You practiced, huh? You were a good boy and practiced for me?" Eddie's eyes roll back into his head at the praise, and the thought of lazily stroking your clit in the interim is blasted away when he starts throwing his hips into a harsh rhythm. Like he's suddenly been possessed by his own lust, Eddie fucks into you with wild and reckless abandon, and doesn't bother trying to muffle his own choking and gagging noises as Steve starts humping his mouth in tandem. "You like being praised? You want more? Then make me cum."

You can tell by the sounds and the humming from Eddie that he would absolutely be running his mouth if he could, although it dies down into whines and deep, rumbly moans as you ride him harder and pay no mind to how he's losing steam. Honestly, you are too, even though the feeling is just indescribable--so you compromise by laying yourself down on his chest, tits squished up against his pecs and your hips laid flat for easier access, plus an opportunity for Eddie to bring his hands up and grab tight fistfuls of your ass that seem to spur his thrusts on even more. Having yourselves lined up only a few centimetres apart doesn't take away from the adrenaline at all--it just gives him an easier time of rapid-fire bucking into you like two rabbits in mating season.

On the other hand, Steve is taking zero liberties with him. He huffs and reminds him of the stopping rule even though he's in the midst of pummeling his poor throat into oblivion, but when he pulls completely out to allow him some breathing room, Eddie's sticky, flushed face twists with want and he sticks that pretty pink tongue out to coax him back inside. Clearly he's victorious in that sense--Steve's balls smush right up against his nose as he slides back in, tightening up against him when Eddie makes a loud show of slurping him up like he's some kind of dessert. His poor adam's apple is being abused with every dip into his throat though, and with a hazy giggle, you reach up and lick that spot that keeps showing the outline of your husband's cock--and you don't expect him to push down on the back of your head to shove you into it, Eddie squealing and panting with pleasure at the strange sensation of you sucking on your husband's dick through his own flesh.

"So fucking good," Steve pants, breaking his no cursing rule for the moment to look down on you both with reverence. "Sucking me off so good. My angels, you look so pretty down there."

He tugs you back up by the hair, peering around you to watch the mesmerizing jiggle of your ass as Eddie grinds into you and smirking at the sight. Now both of your faces are smeared with your own saliva, and he happily gives you more as he spits into your slackened mouth and watches it dribble down your chin to splatter against Eddie's flushed skin.

"Such a fucking soft tongue too, christ," Your husband groans, drawing your attention back to the pretty boy beneath you that's spasming and choking back on him. "Want me to pay you to warm my balls for me? Bet you'd do it for free. Just wanna have em in your mouth no matter what."

Just for show, he manages to extract himself from those warm, wet confines and moves his hips a little higher, so his musky scent overwhelms your babysitter's face as he rests his sack right on his panting lips. Eddie's honestly so admirable--he doesn't waste any time in sucking on them, his tongue flicking out to taste each one before he pulls them into his mouth independently. If you weren't married, you'd be worried that he'd show you up for Steve's affections, but your husband clearly knows his priorities as he pulls you up to kiss you firmly on the lips. You can taste each other's sweat on your tongues, and when he moves back his hand shifts to cup your chin with a smile and an affectionate rub. And just like that, he snaps back into dominant mode.

"I'd pay you to creampie this tight little throat too, but you're gonna take it anyways cause you're such a dirty boy for me." A shudder runs through him as Eddie moans around his balls, contently devouring them with his tongue and totally lost in the taste of his musk and sweat from the long day--you can definitely relate to that feeling, because something about Steve's smell just makes him irresistible. His treat is soon pulled away with a grunt, but he's not left wanting for very long when you watch Steve stuff himself right back down his throat, like he's returning to where he belongs. The show is gearing up for its finale and you're pretty glad that Steve's already made a mess of you once, because it's been easier to stave off the next orgasm that you know is coming soon--just as long as Eddie keeps rolling his hips into you like a mindless, youthfully horny sex machine. "And you're gonna get my sloppy seconds when you blow your load in my wife. Gonna make you lick it all up and--and get her all clean for me to breed agai-nnnnh, fuck, fuck!"

Steve's dirty thoughts taper off into throaty, husky moans, his hands coming down hard to pin Eddie's shoulders to the bed so he can't squirm off--but if anything he's edging closer, squeaking and humming with moans as Steve loses his composure and brutalizes that poor, pretty neck as he chases the last few seconds of orgasm. Just to top it off, you make sure to grind your hips down against Eddie to meet his thrusts as he does so, crooning out praise after praise when he digs his nails into your waist and shakes with boundless pleasure as Steve floods his belly with cum straight from the source. If he's trying not to cum in you, he's gonna lose--and now you're close enough that you don't care, you just want it, you're losing yourself in the fantasy of being a cumdump just like Steve's always entertaining for you. When you're so close you can feel it coming on too hard to stop it, and your husband pulls out with little regard to the streams of cum that spurt out and paint Eddie's beet-red face, tilting his head up so they can both watch you come apart on top of him. His honey-brown doe eyes widen with awe as he watches you use him for your own pleasure, unashamedly grinding your clit into his bush to get that delicious pleasure you crave--and with Steve's encouragement, "C'mon honey, show Eddie how pretty you look when you cum" the room blots out and you witness nothing but Eddie's concaving stomach as you push him into his own orgasm.

It's hard to tell where you start and Eddie ends, whose fluids are churning up inside you and spilling all over his lap like a man-made puddle, but nothing in those moments matter. All that matters is the rolling waves of tingling ecstasy that wash over you one at a time, accompanied by the feeling of Eddie's nuts clenched up against your ass as your pussy pulses and milks him of all he has to spare. You're really unsure now of what you just did, but the glory that spreads through you as you come down makes it all feel hazy and good--doesn't really matter as long as this feeling lasts, even if it's just the heat of Eddie's body beneath you as you collapse and nuzzle deeper into his chest.

"Mrs. H..." He finally pants in a hoarse voice, sucking back whatever's left sticking to his mouth and trailing a hand up to rest it on your lower back. "Can't see straight...fucked me too good..."

You bury your grin in his collar, dazedly tracing circles in his shoulder as you readjust to your surroundings. When you finally manage to lift your head, you're met with your husband's groin--he's in the midst of pulling up his pants, but he pauses when he sees you eyeing him. Mostly focused on his heavy, hanging cock between his legs, still smeared with cum and spit and sweat...and although it's usually a toss up of whether he thinks you're too tired to do it or not, he doesn't interrupt and even moves closer when you reach out to touch it, and you lick a long stripe from tip to base to start polishing him off.

"Good girl...love it when you clean my cock for me. Always so gentle, huh? Ssh-" He hisses suddenly as you prop him up and suck the soft tip into your mouth, the globs of cum that threatened to fall getting licked up as you ease every last spurt of seed out of him. His hands brace your head but don't move, though you can't quite reach all the way--but when you start sliding off Eddie's cock to stretch closer and move further down on your husband's, he whimpers with sensitivity and watches with a keen eye as his cum drools out of your cunt like a faucet. You just wanna get close enough, forcing down each inch that's much easier to swallow when he's soft. When you've got the shaft all clean, though, you can get to what lies underneath, and sweetly lap at the sticky mess off your husband's balls until you've polished his skin and groomed every thatch of thick, dark hair he's got. "That's my girl. Givin' em such nice attention, yeah? You know they're yours."

Only when you're good and ready does he finally pull you off, a chuckle rising out of him when you sink back into the man underneath you--and unintentionally smother him with your tits in the process, your velvety skin falling victim to his teeth as he starts mawing at each round, soft globe of flesh. He buckles himself up and bends down to peck you on the lips, murmuring that he's gonna get some towels and go check on Casey, and makes sure to scritch the top of Eddie's frizzy head as a gesture of affection before he slips out the door and shuts it. As soon as he's gone, it gets too quiet.

"What were you gonna say earlier, Eddie?" You sit back so he can have some room to breathe, shuffling down so you can sit on the relatively clean sheets and lean back against the headboard. He follows close behind though and cuddles up in your embrace, his arms loosely hung around your waist while he rubs his cheek against you. He's unusually quiet too, breathing softly against the bare skin of your chest without a word to fill the silence.

"I....was gonna tell you I love you, Mrs. H. And I love Steve. And I love that crazy little squirt of yours. And...you make me feel like I belong. That's, uh...what I was gonna say. Stupid, right?" He jokes, but he doesn't laugh honestly. The playfulness fades away as fast as a heartbeat, and you can tell by his clinginess and the way he squeezes you tighter when you stroke his hair. The poor thing is incredibly lonely, although you've sensed that from the start.

"That's not stupid at all, darling. You know Casey idolizes you, you're practically another father to him. And Steve and I, we've loved you for a long time. We just...we were afraid we were pressuring you into a life you didn't want."

Somehow it's more nerve-wracking to say those few words out loud than it was to come on to him in the first place, but it isn't your first run around the track. You know that true feelings are much harder to be honest about, even when the person they regard is cuddled up next to you in the nude.

"No! No, never! You've been so good to me, I never...I've never been treated so well. You always made me feel safe." He sits up to look you in the eyes, his voice unusually level and mature as he keeps going. "You make me feel like I'm part of the family. Like I have a family. I mean, I do, but...my uncle needs his space, and so do I. I've mooched off him long enough. Although I guess I'm just mooching off you guys, now..."

He rubs at his arms, tentatively reaching behind his head to pull his shirt completely off and dump it with his other clothes. But he looks so dejected, depressed, like he's expecting you to realize that he is a mooch and throw him out of your house. His eyes flutter back up to you when you touch his cheek, however, and he listens intently as you spill out your heart-to-heart.

"You are part of our family. Our home is your home. You're not mooching off us if we're asking you to stay--you never have to, but you're always welcome here. We can't get enough of you." You shrug your shoulders, offering a sincere smile that he returns--and soon it turns to giggling, the high leaving you both bubbly and floaty like you just got done smoking a joint. For a moment or two you don't feel like you've got a ten plus year age gap, but that you're both young and foolish and passionate like you've always been at heart.

"....I was also gonna tell you you have the tightest pussy I've ever felt, holy mother of Ozzy-" He sighs dreamily, and you swat at his arm with an "oh, stop it", but his smirk doesn't fade. "Seriously. Thought you were gonna choke me out. I can't believe you're a mom...you've got a better body than I've ever seen in a magazine. No wonder Steve's such a monster in bed."

"I think you're underselling yourself, sweetie." You coo, leaning in close so he can practically taste the last hints of your perfume. "I wouldn't feel so tight if you weren't so beautifully endowed." You reach down and grope his soft, yet still slick cock, and watch his expression twist with open-mouthed awe and pleasure as you stroke it in your hand. Watching it twitch like crazy in your palm stirs something up in you, and your belly knots itself up as Eddie grows harder and harder under your touch. He's still so sticky--you reach underneath with your other hand and giggle as he gasps, and you're right, even his balls are all messy too. Now that you've got a grip you can feel the heft of them, full of that thick, creamy stuff that drives you crazy, and your fingers weave through the matted patches of hair to feel every curve and give them a squeeze to gauge how much you've got to work with.

"Never woulda thought the sunday school teacher'd have a kink like that," He mumbles, but it's a tease, his lips curving up into a smile as he hovers his hand between your own legs and presses his fingers into your clit--and, just like he hoped, he draws a whine and another squeeze out of you. "Now, you know I desperately wanna lick the cum out of you, and I know you're just dying to get your tongue on my nuts,"

He leans into a whisper, rubbing your soft little button harder so you have to clench to keep all that mess inside. "So why not sit on my face? And I'll give this pretty pussy so many kisses, just like she deserves..." He keeps leaning further, boldly brushing his lips against yours until you close the distance for a kiss--and it's so cute how smug he looks when he pulls away, totally unaware of the side you've been keeping down that you usually save for your husband's worst, most tiring days, when he needs someone else to take control.

"Lay back, sweetie." You charm him with glittery eyes, watching intently as he pulls his fingers away and sucks them clean of your arousal before he follows your order--but instead of climbing on top at once, you reach beneath yourself and plunge your fingers inside, swirling them up with a thick coating of sloppy cum that you transfer to him....but not where he would've expected. You watch his expressions as he sits up and sees what you're doing, circling that tight rim that's exposed to you now at this angle. If he wants you to stop, you're sure he'll say something, especially when you meet his gaze and slowly ease your slick finger inside him.

But he doesn't speak up, doesn't shake his head, doesn't push you away--Eddie just watches, legs shaking as he spreads them wider and fists clenching against the sheets when you dip your head down between them. Seeing his hole swallow up your finger so eagerly is cute, especially with those tantalizing balls heaving just above it and clenching when you curl your knuckles, searching for that spot to hook into that's gonna make his cock spurt all over his belly. He takes it well, he's clean, and he's tight. You can't help but think that Stevie's gonna adore this--and when you lave little kitten licks over his rim, getting a taste of that bitter sweat and cum off your hand, and his hips jump with a jolt of pleasure? It's so sweet you could just die. Your hair shifts suddenly and you feel a warmth on your scalp, though you don't peek up until you've wiggled the tip of your tongue against his hole a little more. But when you do, you're pleased to see Eddie hunched over you and his hand on your head, bottom lip pinned between his teeth as he strokes you devotedly.

"L..Love it when you do that..."

"Do what?" You tease, working your finger slowly back and forth as you wait for an answer, and planting a wet kiss on his sack when he takes too long and has to groan it out.

"F-Finger me. Love it when you finger me, and...u-use your tongue, and stuff...s'gross, but it feels..." A sigh makes its way out of him, long and whiny when you press another finger in alongside the first, and spread them both out. You can catch a glimpse of some pearly shimmers of his own cum when you do, getting creamier when you churn them around with your curious fingers. "Feels incredible. No girl'd ever do this for me...they'd think I was crazy-"

"That's why I'm a woman, Edward. Stevie likes it too." You work on searching for that spot again, letting a glob of spit shoot out on to his rim to massage it in and lube him up a little more, which he seriously seems to like--or at least his cock does, because it twitches and bounces at full stiffness now, completely erect and needy and leaking already.

"You do this to Steve?" He asks in a hushed whisper, eyes big and shocked. He's probably imagining it....oh, he's clenching so hard, he's definitely thinking about it.

"All the time. I'll eat him out in the shower after work," You grin, having clearly caught his rapt attention, and test his resilience by making use of your other hand to massage his balls as you talk. "And he'll moan, and moan, and moan. So shy about it, but as soon as my tongue's inside him he forgets it all. Whimpers like a little princess."

Eddie throws his head back, adam's apple bobbing to and fro as he swallows down his cries. It's a lot harder to do when you start holding his rim open and sticking your tongue inside, only allowing him a moment or two of mind-bending pleasure before you pull back and leave him gaping and empty.

"I-I'd watch that," He finally pipes up, trying desperately to cling to his confidence. You really can't wait until he drops the act entirely, and gets to the point that he's grinding into your mouth and begging Mrs. Harrington to eat him out.

"And you'd rub yourself raw to it, wouldn't you? Then you'd beg me to do it to you, too."

"Mh-!" He squeaks and his head cranks back down to watch you lap at his hole, the hand on your head now clasped over his mouth because he can't go without seeing you work for a second longer. But he nods his head frantically in agreement, and that's when you finally tug your fingers out and use them to push his cheeks completely apart--because you reward honest boys, and it takes a lot for a nice boy like him to admit he enjoys having a woman of the church's tongue up his asshole.

"...That's how I found out Steve liked you, Eddie. He was touching himself in the shower, moaning your name." With a grin that's gonna haunt his wet dreams for the rest of his life, you tease his newly-empty hole with the tip of your tongue and let it wriggle there, testing his reactions and the sounds muffled by him biting his index finger out of desperation. The tears glistening in his eyes make him look so pretty, the embarrassment and shyness something you can enjoy now because it won't last--and you plunge your tongue inside him, completely bypassing any resistance he might have had that's now been loosened by your efforts.

"Shit! No, fuck, that's so fucking hot, fuck-!" He grunts, playing with his own cock like he's not really trying to make himself cum--he just wants it out of the way so he can watch you bury your face in his ass. His balls sit high on your face and they're so much heftier when they're spilling over you, swollen and soft and smelling so manly. It's like a dream, a beautiful, sexy dream, and with how floaty your head is right now you're not altogether sure it isn't a dream. The determined and near-feral manner in which you're tongue-fucking your babysitter could very well be something you've just concocted in your mind and gotten too involved in....but the fingers digging painfully into your scalp feel a bit too real, and so does the chuckling that vibrates through your mouth and up his spine as you feel Eddie squeeze his tight ring around your tongue. A knowing smirk makes way for your lips to seal around him, to suck the incredibly sensitive skin that you've teased into vulnerability, and with that one motion you get exactly what you wanted.

"No, no no no no! Fuck, fuck, cumming, cumming!" You've never heard Eddie so needy, voice nasally and high-pitched like he's in pain, but it's the complete opposite. Once he starts humping your face, he can't stop, and he rides your tongue so hard and for so many harsh thrusts you nearly believe he's not gonna let you pull it out. But he does, once his poor, weeping cock finishes spitting another load all over your hair and his belly, and he drains his balls so dry they tighten up and then flatten until they're completely soft. Only then do you manage to extract yourself and sit up, tongue lolling out your mouth as you heave and gasp for air as if you'd just dunked your head underwater.

And Eddie's done when you come up. He falls back and lets his back hit the bed, chest rising and falling hard enough for you to watch him take each breath. You nudge his knees apart to take a peek, and while his cock is limp and still twitching with a spurt here and there, his hole is flushed and spasming with the aftershocks. It's gaping just wide enough to wink every now and then, and you're sure you can call that a job well done. If only you could take a picture to save it forever.

"It's me," Timing as perfect as always, the door clicks open and your husband pokes his head in, a bundle of towels under his arm and a glass of water he stretches to hand you before he shuts it with his foot. "Wore him out, I see."

"Yeah, we had fun. Casey?" Steve slides in beside you, dropping the towels in front of him and throwing one over Eddie's sticky chest, before tugging his polo off for the first and last time tonight to toss it to the floor.

"Sleeping like a baby. Saw his cup in the sink, Eddie gave him his medicine--he won't wake up for awhile." He greets you with a kiss on the cheek, but you redirect him with your hand on his chin to plant another on his lips--and you know he knows exactly what you got up to when your tongue slithers into his mouth, and he hums at the overwhelming taste of Eddie that you pass on before you pull off with a loud, wet smack.

"Aw, well done! Poor thing hates the stuff, I'm proud of you." You rub Eddie's knee that's collapsed into the bed, feeling smug and proud of yourself at wearing out someone more than ten years younger before you've run out of steam yourself.

Maybe it's cause you've just had to keep up with Steve, who's been a stallion ever since he was fucking you in the backseat of his BMW at the drive-in movies after graduation. You'll never forget the time he made you cum so hard you squirted on one of those dates, and had to throw his jacket over your lap to cover your soaked skirt when he dropped you off at home....and how he came right back the next morning with a handful of roses, asking bashfully if you would be his girlfriend. He's become even more romantic as he's matured--but he's never dropped that insatiable lust for you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"What can I say? Best babysitter ever." Eddie pants, grinning up at both of you with his pearly whites glinting in the low light, although his eyes are half-lidded and he's already starting to doze off. You really did wear him out...but you're looking forward to telling Steve about your rather enlightening conversation.

"I guess we're lucky Casey's not getting up til noon," Steve murmurs quietly as you take a sip and pass the glass to him. "Can't imagine Eddie's gonna have any energy for wrangling our kid at six am after this."

"I don't think any of us will have the energy to get up early." You giggle, falling victim to your husband's firm kisses as soon as he sets the water down on the nightstand, his toned arm coming up to cup your cheek as he moves you to lay back against the pillows. He takes a moment to turn back and grab each of Eddie's deadweight legs--because by his snores, he's already passed out--and move them carefully over so he's laid out on the side of the bed and not splayed out in the middle, but returns right back to your lips as his fingertips graze your sides and send shivers up and down your spine.

"I'm not sleepy yet. Are you sleepy?" You shake your head, feeling a girlish flutter in your heart that takes you right back to those days of your early romance. It's one of the many reasons you still feel such intense love for him, because he reminds you of how happy you were then with every headrush that comes from a kiss, and every time he makes you giggle with a joke or a sweet gesture just like he did when you were dating. "Then I think a certain hot momma I know needs some me time."

"Me time?" He nods, a "mhm" hummed into your lips as he steals another kiss, before planting a firm, squirm-inducing one right at the soft spot of your throat. "What kind of 'me time', may I ask?"

Steve leans close enough to your lips that you're sure he's going in for a deeper kiss--but when he hesitates, your mouth is already parted, and you feel that puff of hot breath on your tongue as he mutters in as low and rumbly a tone as he can get.

"Me 'eating this pretty pussy until my wife cums on my mouth' time. Obviously." He smirks, and flicks his tongue across your bottom lip to hear you moan for him already. Knowing Steve, this is definitely gonna keep Eddie from sleeping soundly in the same room, especially when he's got that look in his eyes. But...at least now, you don't really have to worry about waking the babysitter anymore.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader #steve x reader x eddie #dad!steve harrington #milf!reader #spicy writing #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #anons

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doublegoblin · 8 months

Text

Five pebbles reading

HEY! I thought I got the volume to a reasonable level but Tumblr boosted so just a heads-up about the volume! It might be a tad loud...and I closed this out without saving...

Hopefully this tickles someone's fancy ^^. The track is the reading of the dialogue Five Pebbles has for Survivor and Monk in that order. Nothing too fancy but also used this as a means to work on some more subtle audio work.

Enjoy! Hopefully!

#rain world five pebbles #five pebbles #voice recording #amateur voice acting #Hopefully I was able to capture his smugness #Let me know if my voice is worthy of being shoved in a washer #Rain World #Rain World Downpour #rain world iterator #tried to get as much background noise out as possible but it is hot and she be blowin #rw survivor #rw monk #rain world survivor #rain world monk #voice acting #rw five pebbles #rw spoilers #rain world spoilers

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moodymisty · 8 months

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hey! Just wanted to say I really enjoy reading your works! I’ve joined tumblr to put in a request, hope I’m doing this right lol. I was wondering if you’d have any headcanons for tech x female jedi general reader? It’s purely self indulgent for my self insert oc, lmao. But I’d love to hear what your thoughts are on how tech would be in a relationship with a general. Thanks so much!

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: You're doing just fine, and welcome to tumblr! It's a mess but it's ours. I love self indulgent OC's so hopefully these little HCs of mine (and a little drabble because it was cute) will tickle your fancy.

Relationships: Tech/Gn!Jedi General!Reader (it just so happened I wrote it without any specific pronouns used)

Warnings: None, unless you consider clone/jedi relationships something to warn about?

Tech would at first, probably be a little bit at odds with a Jedi; Not in a hostile way, but his very '1+1=2, logic is superior' sort of brain competes with someone who trusts in something so vague as the Force. He doesn't enjoy the lack of concrete answers when it comes to the Jedi.

It's an even more prevalent if you're the 99's official Jedi general.

Tech and the Batch are already grappling with the feelings of finally being shackled with a Jedi, after having avoided it for so long. They didn't feel like a Jedi would fit in their squad, no matter how you might be. It's not the easiest hurdle to jump for sure, especially with Tech.

He's cold at first; You can tell he's displeased by your presence, but is attempting to be amicable. It's when you try your best to mold into their group rather than change them, when Tech ends up realizing that maybe this wasn't as bad as he thought.

You both find a common ground, and Tech even comes to enjoy the more historical side of Jedi teachings, even if he doesn't really get all of it.

He often times finds himself tinkering in the same area you're meditating in; He finds it relaxing in a way he can't explain. He makes sure to be quiet and not disturb you.

But it's actually Tech that's the one to make a move in upgrading your relationship, surprisingly enough- once he realizes his own feelings for you go far beyond how his brothers think of you.

He's extremely blunt; He enjoys spending time with you and would like more, but he knows that clones aren't exactly the pick of the litter. You vehemently reassure him that you'd love nothing more. It's not as if he's the only one who's feelings had been morphing over time, as you'd very much grown to enjoy being around him.

I think that Tech would be the least likely, besides Wrecker, to treat you being a Jedi as a 'big deal' in a relationship. Hunter and Echo would probably hesitate due to a fear of chain of command issues and Echo being used to Jedi more, while Crosshair has a sort attitude towards everyone including Jedi. Tech knows that the Kaminoans cannot find out, but beyond that, you being a Jedi is nothing intimidating to him.

If you ever gave him permission, he would love to tinker with your lightsaber(s). Acts of service are Tech's way of showing he likes someone, and to improve something that means so much to you would make Tech extremely happy. He also would love to see the inner-workings of something so integral to the Jedi order. Lightsabers aren't exactly something you get to mess with every day.

Has a spare robe of yours he wears uses as a blanket sometimes. He got yanked at the collar by Hunter once, when he was wearing it and almost left their barracks without realizing.

You can hear out far to your left, outside the shell of the Marauder, that someone is working on one of the LA-AT's with a high powered drill. Someone else is pulling a fuel hose across the hanger, as it drags across the ground with a consistent, sliding noise. Somewhere else is the yelling of a captain disciplining his troopers. It all fades to the background relatively quickly. The metal of the Marauder is cool beneath you, piercing the rough fabric of your robes.

There isn't much room in here to meditate, especially without any interruption, but the Batch and you have come to a sort of solution. There may not be much space between the cockpit seats, but it's enough, and you can seal the door if you need an extra bit of quiet.

It works. If anything, you've come to enjoy it. There's a familiarity about it. In the way that the Jedi temple has a comfortable feeling of home, as does the Marauder.

-CLANK-

Something small and metal hits the ground; A screw, you think. Judging by the way it bounces a few times before it starts to roll across the floor. You pay it no mind, palms shifting ever so slightly as they rest on your thighs. The sudden sound took you out of your meditation for a moment and the noises outside the ship came flooding back into focus, but soon enough you manage to slowly push them out again. Back to a state of peace, each sound being filtered and muffled as if dunked in water as you once again fade away into-

-BANG-

"Tech..."

You open one eye, looking up to your left and watching him look over the arm of his seat trying to spot where his tool went.

"Apologies."

It hit your foot, and so you open both eyes and grab it- with a grunt getting up from your cross legged position and handing it to him. Once you do, both of your hands rest on the arm of the seat to support yourself.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not going to get anywhere with this noise anyways." His eyebrows raise behind his goggles and with both hands gripping his current project, he makes a motion as if going to get up from his seat.

"I could do my work elsewhere, if you require complete sile-" You quickly lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, close enough that your lips brush against the corner of his mouth.

"It's not you. The noise in the hanger keeps throwing me off." Tech looks out the side viewport to see a groups of clones working on various starships, and he notes how loud the sounds actually are. He's just gotten used to it, he guesses. He's slept in far louder places.

"I like having you here when I meditate, actually." You see the way his eyes light up a bit, both from the loving nature of what you'd said, and the curiosity of wanting to know why.

"It's nice knowing you're here. And ok." You reach up and adjust the light on the side of his goggles so it isn't pointing upwards. Tech doesn't seem to even notice that you doing so.

"Nothing is going to happen on a Republic base," He says, before taking note of the way you roll your eyes at him.

"I know, I just like the feeling." You squeeze his hand that's holding his screwdriver, and while he can't hold yours back, you note the way his eyes watch the gesture keenly.

"Once I finish this, I can promise you complete silence." You smile before he kisses you on the lips, feeling the way you gently sigh against them.

"Take your time. I'm just going to watch."

Join the taglist here: @simp-legend @nekotaetae @chad-something @coffeyorky @merkitty49 @lokigirlszendaya @totesnothere04 @get-wr3ckered @rebel-finn @mandoloriancookie @therealnekomari @loverofclones @notthatfanfictionwriter @lucyysthings @jennrosefx @fxlsealarm @crosshairs-wife @sinfulsalutations @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana @coraex @anxiouspineapple99 @bobaprint @wolffegirlsunite @sleepingsun501 @crosshairlovebot

#the bad batch tech x reader #tbb x reader #Tech/Reader #the bad batch x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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basilone · 2 months

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Hellooooo, guys, how're we all holding up today? 😊I'm winding down on my Sunday eve with what looks to be a busy-ish start of the week ahead, so just taking it supereasy right now. The weekend's been good, though! Got to see the fabulous Dune 2 (and, yes, Austin's got the raaaange, darlings) and got my hands on a new nightstand that's hopefully gonna replace some of my bedside table chaos in the next few weeks. I gotta say, my recent icon change and blog color change has got me feelin' rather awesome – I always do better in blue.

Creatively speaking, I'm gifsetting along nicely and gathering my thoughts on each MotA ep as it comes along. I'm really just putting out some character moments at this point, as we've still got another 20 years to gif the rest of this gig. 😂 I also gotta say if you're looking for someone to critique the show, I'm not your girl because I'm in love with it.

Also in light of more MotA less problems, I'm still accepting prompts from this list right here. Send me one alongside a canon character and/or an OC of mine, if anything tickles your fancy? ^^

What're y'all working on? How're you enjoying the show? 💙

#killytalks

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danpuff-ao3 · 7 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers!

Thanks for the tag, @givereadersahug [x]!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Normally I like to specify "HP Fics" since that's my current mode, but altogether (with other fandoms and meta across other pseuds) I'm at 112! (101 for HP Fics, though! 😂)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

689,993 so far!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently just Harry Potter, but I have a few Marvel fics still on my account, under my danvers pseud!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ooh interesting! Let's see...

Daddy's Boy (Snarry, E, 2k)

Daddy Knows Best (Snarry, E, 2k)

Obscene (Snarry, E, 1k)

Breed Me, Daddy (Snarry, E, 2k)

Contempt (Snarry, E, 20k)

0% surprised that 3/5 are Daddy fics LOL. Though lowkey offended that Contempt is only #5. My proudest work but boy oh boy do people love their weird porn!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Heck yes! Though I need to catch up now. It means the world to me that people take the time to leave me their love, so the least I can do is give my gratitude. You have no idea how much a comment makes my day!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Aha hands down this one is so easy: A Matter of Time. I am stupidly happy with how that one turned out, and just how well executed that angst was. Not to toot my own horn or anything!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

idk why but my first thought was Orange Blossoms...which is pretty angsty-fluff all told and the ending is hopeful at best. My brain just goes: "that's a happy fic, right?" 😂 But actually I think probably The Curse of Anteros. That one's properly happy, I think, with plenty of angst beforehand to make that happy ending feel well worth it! Though someone is free to correct me, with over 100 fics maybe I lost a happier ending somewhere in there! 😂

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not often. I did go on a delete-a-spree late 2020 due to some rudeness. One person bookmarked a fic calling my writing "mediocre" and I sorta spiraled. Also I get the odd person leaving weird comments on Collateral Damage for the surprise (background) ship in there. Also the odd person who doesn't read tags on fics that are especially angsty or especially dead dove...idk for all the weird and problematic stuff I write I could get more hate I guess, though I'd rather not!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Who me? Nah. 👀 idk, I write whatever tickles my fancy! Oftentimes it's virginity loss cuz that's my favorite. I love big passion and bits of violence thrown in. Idk "what kind" actually means so hopefully that was a good explanation! A bit rough, a bit mean, a lot of passion, and it's probably someone's first time doing something.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No, but I want to! I have a HP + PJO crossover I swear I'm going to get to one day!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of and I really hope no one out there steals my fics. I work really hard on them and they mean a lot to me.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A few!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but again: I want to! I've had fanart made, and podfics, and translations...the closest I've come is for Snarry Bang and collaborating with an artist, which was The Curse of Anteros with @mrviran!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

SNARRY!!!! OTP for 20 years and counting!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Geez. Probably old fics long abandoned on ffnet, but I won't get into those. (Though I'd really like to rewrite and continue/finish Resistance.)

16. What are your writing strengths?

...causing pain? Idk I don't feel I have strengths, but I'm told I hurt people's feelings 😂 I write intensity pretty well I think? I like to think my characterization is okay. idk!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

All of it. Writing in general. AHEM. Um....fluff? I'm almost curious enough to ask but no please don't tell me my weaknesses, it'll hurt my feelings 🤣

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I like it! Adds a bit of flavor imo! But to each their own, y'know?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter! I've only ever written for HP, Marvel (of which a few still exist online), and Stormlight Archive (of which none still exist online). Weird I never wrote for Supernatural, considering how mega into that fandom I was for a while...

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Hands down Contempt. I'm still the proudest of that fic. I'm starting to think The Curse of Anteros is better, but Contempt will always have my heart.

I really poured my whole heart and soul into that work. And I still get way too emotional talking about it or thinking about it! And it still blows me away how many people have loved it. I really wanna relisten to the podfic @mrviran did of it and just sob through it! 😂 God I really, really love that fic. I truly do not have the words to express just what that story is to me.

Tagging (no pressure): @perverse-idyll, @writcraft, @lizzy0305, @arrisha-ao3, @babygray, @fleetingdesires, @ripeteeth, @loneamaryllis, @wolfpants, @sweet-s0rr0w, @greenmegsnoham, @lqtraintracks, @serenaew, @indigo-scarf, @maesterchill, aaaand anyone else who wants to play!

#danpuff writes #tag game #fic writers questions #20 questions

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potterandpromises · 8 months

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sorry for not winning you an arcade ring: chapter 10

The conclusion. [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

Also on AO3

(Picks up one day after the last chapter.)

Hid in the backroom of the venue, still in her wedding dress, Mabel bursts into full belly laughter.

Theo huffs out a laugh, too, watches her from behind the chocolate croissant held to his lips. There's a crinkle around his eyes when he laughs. Or when he holds it back.

All things considered, the second (annual?) killer reveal party went better then she anticipated. To think the case was ultimately solved by some blue paint speckled on Sazz Pataki's shoes.

She should take off the dress. It's a rental, and it isn't covered in blood or anything, so she should be able to get her deposit back if she manages not to spill on it. But, if she leaves, even just to go to the bathroom, even just for a few minutes, her agreement with Theo will end, and it'll all be over.

How long, until Charles and Oliver are finished talking to reporters and come find her? It could be hours, honestly. Hopefully.

She's tired of hoping.

Theo's eyebrows are raised; his mouth quirked upwards. He's stopped snacking just to puzzle her out.

"This is ridiculous," Mabel says, and again in sign: "We’re ridiculous."

"You only just realized?”

"No."

She doesn't want this to be the last time they stand around in fancy clothes eating leftovers. (She does not know how to sign 'leftovers.')

She crosses to his side of the staging table, pauses just far enough away that they can talk, just close enough to reach out and run her fingers down his face, if she wanted.

He bites his lip, looks right through her. If it were someone else, it would be like a bite. Down by his hip, his fingers curl into a fist, glide up.

“Life would be less complicated,” he's slow, tense, doesn't move his mouth at all, “if we stopped…”

He stops, lets his hands hover for a moment. “But you know that.”

Mabel shakes her head, digs her teeth into her lower lip. “People think we’re bad for each other, but they’re wrong, okay?” She looks around the room as if it contains all their complications, as if it isn’t their last ditch oasis. “And you’re worth… I-T.”

He’s less of an oasis in the desert, more of a pond frozen still. “Theo?”

He blinks and the tension eases out of his shoulders. That curiosity is back in the crease between his eyebrows, in the slight tilt of his head. Zoe was right, he really does have beautiful eyes. There's something like wonder in them. Something like joy.

Mabel searches her mind for the sign: 'kiss,' and once again draws a blank. She should have prepared. Easily, she lets it go.

She steps forward. He steps forward. Their lips brush, but mostly, they just bash their chins together.

They pull back, look at each other, and, at the exact same time, snicker.

"We're so in S-Y-N-C."

He nods, licks his own sheepish grin.

In the back room of the venue for their fake wedding, she kisses him again.

His hands land on her hips. Her fingers find his scalp. They sink into each other, go down.

She straddles him, presses him against the 90s carpet. His sigh tickles her cheek. The train of her dress spreads out in all directions, covers him. His hands slide up, make her shiver, find the sides of her breasts.

The door opens.

“That was a wonderful— oh!”

Mabel pulls herself upright, but not off of Theo, because the only thing worse then being caught like this, would be to trip on an escape attempt. Theo, meanwhile, writhes beneath her.

“Well,” Oliver says, “I can’t say I’m actually surprised. Though, it would have been nice if— Charles! Quit staring!”

With some teamwork, Mabel and Theo disengage their complicated clothes. As they pull apart and stand up, Charles seems to reboat himself.

“As long as your happy," he says, like someone's kicked him to say it. It gives Mabel a warm, fuzzy feeling anyway.

"I am."

"Yes, well, then I think it's best if we leave these two young loverbirds alone." Oliver seems genuinely pleased by the development, by his understated smile. "Text me the dets!"

He and Charles shuffle out, arms entangled in something between hand holding and arm wrestling.

"I'm not going to do that!"

She turns back to Theo, who hasn't quite recovered.

"They're fine," she reassures him. He looks skeptical, and worried. "And we're fine, right? We have..."

“We have time,” he finishes, taps his wrist at the same moment she does.

#theobel #only murders in the building #omitb #mabel mora #theo dimas #oliver putnam #charles-haden savage #fanfiction #my fanfic tag #fic: sorry for not winning you an arcade ring #it's DONE

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themirokai · 2 years

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Hi there! For the OTP questions ask, maybe either 1, 11, or 76 for Palomi? Whichever tickles your fancy! Thanks! 😁

Oh ho! It’s been a while since I talked about my favorite wlw ship, so thank you for the opportunity, friend!

If you’re new here, Palomi is the ship name for Paloma and Nomi from the most recent James Bond film, No Time To Die. I mean look at them:

No seriously look:

They don’t meet in canon but I think we can agree that that’s a travesty and they need sexy spy adventures together, yes? Yes.

Ok, so there are currently 2 stories in the ship tag. A Time To Live by me and Brick Red by @once-in-a-blue-moon-rising . Hopefully there will be more soon, since I won 2 Fandom Trumps Hate auctions.

So with that background for the uninitiated, the actual answers!

1. Who’s the primary protector of the two?

I think the easy answer to this is Nomi BUT I also think that if something happens to Nomi or someone else she cares about Paloma would go absolutely fucking feral. Like true chaos rage. And then when everyone is safe she would like blink herself out of her fugue state.

11. Who’s the most eager to have kids?

Hmm I think they both know that the life of a spy is absolutely not conducive to having kids and I think they both love their work, so neither is particularly eager. However, I think Paloma adores and dotes on babies and toddlers whenever she encounters them and Nomi thrives on impressing/scaring the shit out of older kids and teenagers.

76. Who'd take the gingerbread house decorating contest just a little too seriously?

Hands down Nomi. Paloma would be eating the gum drops and having a great time while Nomi would have drawn out to-scale plans with the help of an architecture text book.

Questions are from this OTP ask game! Send me anything for Mystrade, Dreamling, Rinch, or if you want to know more about Palomi!

#Miro does asks #ask game #no time to die #palomi #nomi #paloma #nomi x paloma

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oh-no-my-hand-slipped · 2 years

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Can you give me prompts for like loud, messy sneezes?

You like the classics, eh? The blueprint of the fetish. The foundation of the snzfucker brothel, if you will.

*slowly pulls index cards out of my front pocket, lifting an eyebrow*

Hmmm…lethargic…ah, yes, loud…then messy…there’s quite a number here. Let’s see if any of these strike your fancy:

Someone has done an excellent job hiding a fast-approaching head cold from their friends. They’ve kept their coughing, runny nose, and lethargy under wraps, and with them being so quiet anyway, they’ve hardly had to hide their voice. As the others were talking, though, they suddenly felt an untameable itch deep in their sinuses. They rubbed their nose furiously - they couldn’t sneeze now, not after coming so far! But alas, with a single choked hitch, they let out a loud, desperate sneeze that was barely contained behind their sleeve. Their friends collectively showed their concern - their secret was out.

An influencer is putting on their makeup for a look they are trying out. They apply the blush carefully, but an unfortunate stroke leads to the bristles tickling the inside of their nostrils with pale pink dust. Their eyes begin to water, their nostrils begin to quiver, and their sinuses begin to tingle. Willing themselves not to sneeze, they fan their face, struggling against foundation-ruining mess. Hopefully they can finish applying before an hour’s worth of spray drips through their lipstick.

No matter how many times they sneeze, A just can’t get rid of the spring allergy tickle plaguing their nose. B exclaims it’s because A is keeping back - stifling, shielding, smothering - and nothing was getting out. In other words, A was being too polite. B volunteered to induce A, as long as they promised to not keep anything back. With B’s coaching and a feather tracing around their nostrils, A let out fit after fit, their throat hurting from such violent releases.

A lord with a terrible case of the sniffles can’t seem to find anything that can contain their nose. Within the hour, every handkerchief they own is soaked through, and they are too shy to ask for anyone else’s. However, a maid sees their plight and gives them their apron to clean themselves up. “A lo’ hardier than those paperchiefs,” they say. Though the lord is embarrassed to say the least, they have no other choice.

A well-meaning dragon has the misfortune of running into the sneeziest things, which leads to many close calls. Not only is the fire dangerous, but their boiling spray can rain down over an acre of land. Mess runs down their claws as they try to keep each sneeze back…but the townsfolk aren’t helping.

#ohnos prompts #snz #snz kink #snzario #snzblr #snezblr #snz things #snez kink #snezario #snz scenario #whump

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hosannan · 1 year

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“lady nanna?” caeda approaches her in a curious but nonetheless friendly manner. when she’s got nanna’s attention she offers the hand imprinted with earth for a handshake— her other carefully holding a glass of champagne. “my name is caeda, queen of archanea— but more importantly i’m also leif’s friend.” something of a teasing smile tugs at her lips as her eyes crease in amusement. “forgive me for the sudden and abrupt introduction, but i terribly wanted to get to know what leif’s lover is like— and hopefully become friends?”

"Your majesty, any friend of Lord Leif is a friend of mine." Nanna gracefully pulled out her sunlit skirts to curtsey, as her perfume lightly curled from each lock of hair. Catching that tease that erupted from her highness' soft lips, Nanna's own upturned with the same mischief. "Might you have an interest in regaling my lord's stories since I've been gone? I did wonder how he has been holding up on his own, but it seems I was mistaken. He has never truly been alone, has he?" Her lord was the type to consult with many and befriend few—so whomever claimed his acquaintance was in a league worth such praise.

It tickled her, like the flutter of butterfly wings, that someone was so keen to seek out her Lord's lover—as Nanna, who quietly cupped her heart in streams of fancy since childhood, was still reeling from the fact that her love was made real. In equal parts honor and shyness, she raised her head in pride, to relish in the title. What had Lady Caeda heard of her, of them?

"...Hehe." A flight of gentle laughter, like a jingle of bells, rang out. "Has your curiosity been quenched? It humbles me so, that I might represent my Lord as his love." She glided her hand onto Caeda's, the steady gravity of the earth tugging at her finger tips. In exchange came a quiet, thunderous surge that scattered from her own. "And humbles me more so, that I might stand here as your friend."

#{ YOU GOT TO MY INBOX BEFORE I GOT TO YOURS BUT OOOOOO I LOVE THEM....#{ when your queens have a penchant for teasing #toaball2023

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your-sweet-cookies · 1 year

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What are your biggest rp pet peeves?

Message from Mun: I don't really have many pet peeves when it comes to RP, since I'm usually the type of person who does their best to focus on the positive aspects of the community. But I will admit that there are a few that can sometimes even get to me, and I'll write a few down:

People who don't read your rules - there is a good reason why Muns even take the time to write these special specifications lists labeled as "Rules". If it weren't something important, we wouldn't bother with writing them in the first place, so please, read them!

Lack of communication - There are soo many misunderstandings and conflicts that could've been avoided between people if only they would communicate more. It pains me seeing my friends being hurt by others because of something that could've been avoided if only people would talk more between one another before jumping to random conclusions. So please people: proper communication is key! Use this ability we've been invested with by nature!

Meme asks sent just for the sake of sending something in the hopes of getting something in return and then never coming to read the answers - One of the reasons why nowadays I kind of take a long time writing answers to meme asks is because I don't really have the same motivation I used to have in the past. This is due to a lack of confirmation if the other party is even going to read the reply. As one might see, I do try to keep an equal length between the answers I deliver, so that people don't feel discriminated, and the answers end up being usually long in length, so it's a bit disheartening spending half an hour or more on a single reply, only for it to be never read. I'm not expecting meme posts to turn into threads, but at least leave a like as a sign that you at least acknowledged the answer and that there's a chance you hopefully read it.

"Highschool clique" - This is a phrase referring to the phenomena of people interacting only with a small group of people and ignoring everyone else trying to interact with them. This can lead to people exclusion and creates a toxic environment for the community. Let's try to be more friendly and open to one another and not act like highschoolers, since we're adults after all!

People ignoring your asks/deleting them without further notice - There have been many instances in which I would put effort into writing a long ask (either in order to start a thread or continue one), only for it to never be answered without a proper reason. If you don't like the topic/direction I might've taken, please for the love of God, just send me a DM or answer that ask privately, letting me know why you'd not want to answer it and what should I send instead. Ghosting my messages, threads and asks only hurts me and makes me feel anxious and insecure about my writing and whether or not you like me as a RP partner and want to continue our threads/interactions.

And Lastly, my biggest pet peeve of them all: People ghosting your threads! This one's similar to the previous one in my list, but it's somewhat more hurtful because it kinda sends the clear message of "I grew tired of you, so I'll just abandon our stuff without a proper reason or explanation." It's just painful, especially if said person then never messages you again in DMs either and you're just left hanging in there indefinitely, wondering if there's even a point or not into initiating further interactions. This somehow comes back to the point about communication too, because things would be much different if the party involved would at least send a DM letting you know that "hey, I still wanna write with you, but that old thread doesn't tickle my fancy anymore, let's try something else!". Trust me, sending a DM explaining stuff DOES make a HUGE difference and it's far better than ghosting someone!

#ooc interactions #ooc post #post from mun #ask mun

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hausofperses · 1 year

Photo

CHARACTER NAME: Nathan Cline AGE: 29 FC: Charles Melton KINKS: Clothed sex, hand jobs, massaging, voyeurism, oral sex, pleasure control, objectification, restraints, command/obey ANTI KINKS: Watersports, scat, heavy bondage, fisting

BIOGRAPHY:

As the oldest of the Cline children, Nathan always felt a sense of responsibility over the family name. Born through surrogacy, Nathan loves both of his fathers deeply. They gave him the world growing up, allowing him to pursue any and every extracurricular activity that tickled his fancy. There was gymnastics. And then basketball. Then the very small stint of martial arts. But when Nate started playing football, he fell completely in love. It was simply meant to be.

It wasn’t long before Nathan’s middle school coach noticed his talent for throwing the ball. He was a natural quarterback from the first day he was put into the position, and a natural leader at that. In high school, Nate grew into his looks. 6 feet tall, charming smile, and a solid body with the kindest heart and straight a’s to take home to papa. It was no wonder he was homecoming king four years running. And it didn’t surprise anyone when he was offered athletic scholarships to multiple top tier football schools around the country.

Being such a family man, he chose a school close to his home and his family in Seattle and packed his bags for college. It was a dream. On top of pursuing a degree in sports medicine and physical therapy, Nathan Cline was the talk of the school. Red shirt freshman brought into a game when their current quarterback went down. Showed the composure of a seasoned pro and helped his team win the game. And the rest was history… Except it wasn’t.

Come Nathan’s junior year, he was already being talked about as a top NFL prospect. A number one draft pick after his senior year. He was one of the top quarterbacks in the country, absolutely on top of the world. But it wasn’t meant to be. All it took was one funky hit by two huge linemen to completely shatter the shoulder of his throwing arm. And just like that, in the blink of an eye, Nathan Cline faded into obscurity. Hospital stays, surgeries, and a year of physical therapy weren’t enough to rebuild Nathan’s shoulder. He hunkered down beneath the looks of pity from his peers and used his still-functioning brain to get his degree as quickly as humanly possible. Schoolwork and hooking up were all that kept him grounded those years.

He graduated at the top of his class at the age of 24 and returned to Seattle with an ongoing ache in his shoulder and a smile on his face to hide behind. It wasn’t long before he began his career as a physical therapist. If he couldn’t be an athlete, at least he could help them hopefully not turn out like him. In the five years sense leaving college, Nathan has created his own private practice catering to some of the biggest and best athletes in the world. Only in some circles is it known that Nathan Cline has a penchant for happy endings with his favorite clients. After all, sex keeps him sane. He doesn’t want anyone to know and neither do the men that come to see him. But someone, somewhere, told a King about the magic hands of a former quarterback, and Nathan found himself with a job offer too good to pass up. At least at the Haus of Perses, all of his talents can be appreciated again.

#hopstaff

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nathanxcline · 1 year

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Nathan Cline - 29 - Football Player - Physical Therapist - Masseuse

Kinks: Clothed Sex, Handjobs, Massaging, Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Pleasure Control, Objectification, Restraints, Command/Obey, Muscle Worship, etc. Anti-Kinks: Watersports, Scat, Heavy Bondage, Fisting Position: Versatile

Quick Glance

+ 6′ Tall, Athletic Build, Lean Muscle + Eager to please and loyal to a fault + Typical jock with a big heart that tries to stay positive through anything. + Former superstar college quarterback before a career ending shoulder injury put him out for good. + Physical therapist to the best and brightest athletes the world over (namely men) who want to make sure they’re in the best hands. His hands are basically gold. + Has a reputation in very special circles for leaving his clients with happy endings, which is what brought him to the haus.

It was a dream. On top of pursuing a degree in sports medicine and physical therapy, Nathan Cline was the talk of the school. Red shirt freshman brought into a game when their current quarterback went down. Showed the composure of a seasoned pro and helped his team win the game. And the rest was history…

Except it wasn’t.

Hospital stays, surgeries, and a year of physical therapy weren’t enough to rebuild Nathan’s shoulder. He hunkered down beneath the looks of pity from his peers and used his still-functioning brain to get his degree as quickly as humanly possible. Schoolwork and hooking up were all that kept him grounded those years. He graduated at the top of his class at the age of 24 and returned to Seattle with an ongoing ache in his shoulder and a smile on his face to hide behind. It wasn’t long before he began his career as a physical therapist. If he couldn’t be an athlete, at least he could help them hopefully not turn out like him.

In the five years sense leaving college, Nathan has created his own private practice catering to some of the biggest and best athletes in the world. Only in some circles is it known that Nathan Cline has a penchant for happy endings with his favorite clients. After all, sex keeps him sane. He doesn’t want anyone to know and neither do the men that come to see him. But someone, somewhere, told a King about the magic hands of a former quarterback, and Nathan found himself with a job offer too good to pass up. At least at the Haus of Perses, all of his talents can be appreciated again.

#about

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caspermarvelimagines · 2 years

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The Girl Who Cried Wolf

|| Masterlist || | Prev | | | Next | Word Count: 1,932 AN: Another one. Sorry for late as all hell posting! Back again though, hopefully another one sooner than last time. Enjoy!

____

| 4 |

Mittens officially became Riley’s newest room-mate the following Friday. Riley carried Mittens to the vets in her coat, letting her little head poke out over the top of the zipper to watch where they were going. After receiving all her jabs and having a good health check, Mittens was legally Riley’s pet cat.

Riley went to the store and brought a cat bed, cat food, food bowls and a scratching post. It was a struggle juggling everything back to her flat block but Riley managed and Mittens purred her love when they entered the warm apartment. Riley spent the rest of her afternoon building the scratching post and putting it beside the glass TV stand and then putting the cat bed on the other end of the couch. Mittens however sat on the kitchen counter watching and every so often licked her paws.

Riley filled the food bowl and placed it on the counter for Mittens to dig in. The black cat purred as she licked up the wet food. Nice to know someone’s happy, Riley scratched under Mitten’s ear and then opened the fridge to find herself something to eat. The vacant shelves and half canteen of milk reminded her that she needed to go food shopping.

“Take out it is,” Riley huffs and closes the fridge.

As she scrolled through her phone to find something that tickled her fancy, the newly weds began their second argument of the week above her. Who needs soap operas?

***

Claws dig into her side, teeth bit into her shoulder – please make it stop. They kept burning, kept ripping, she kept screaming. Her howls were ignored, her cries for help fell on deaf ears.

He just kept taking.

She could still feel the claws when she woke up, while she shook from adrenaline, pushing the beast behind the curtain again. She hissed as she pulled her hand away from her leg, which she had scratched raw and blood welled up to the surface. She rests her hand on the carpet and pulled at the rough material, pulling herself back to reality. Sweat dampened her shirt and blotched her skin, a faint metallic aroma danced with her senses before she could recognise that she was in her apartment.

Mittens was lay on the bed with her head raised and staring at Riley before she meowed and jumped down to scurry over to her. Mittens rubbed her little head up against Riley’s abdomen, her body vibrating with a deep, comforting purr. Mittens tensed when the soft rumble of a purr was returned back to her before she continued to purr for Riley. Riley knew purring was her wolf truly whining but because she was only in human form, it came out more so as a purr.

For ten minutes Riley sits petting Mittens and letting her senses tune up to being in her apartment, not back there…

Riley gently nudges Mittens from her lap and grunts as she stands. She goes to the small kitchen and grabs herself a glass of water but also puts a few treats out on the counter for Mittens.

Mittens jumps up onto the counter and sniffs at the treats before digging in. Riley gently ran the back of her fingers along Mittens spine and smiled at the small creature.

Maybe having the little cat wasn’t so bad.

***

Riley’s week went by with clearing up the bar and heavy lifting – aka moving the beams she had knocked down in the attack. Wendy was still fighting with the insurance company over whether an alien invasion was covered by her plan. It seemed like a losing cause but the old woman was stubborn and wasn’t letting up.

Besides helping with the clear up in the bar, Riley had been helping those along the block that were affected by the attack. It broke Riley’s heart when she helped the florist across the street. The old woman was besides herself with the insurance companies and Riley had to stop herself from taking the phone and yelling at the person on the other end. In moments of need such as these, where money is needed to rebuild from disaster the companies people trust close their eyes and cover their ears like cowards.

The block was slowly being cleared up, but it was going to take much longer before places were up and running again.

Riley entered work Friday morning to find Wendy buzzing with joy it was almost as though the woman vibrated where she stood.

“We’ve been covered!” Wendy announced as she slapped her hands on the bar top. Riley smiled at the eager woman before, happy that the insurance company were finally going to pay out. But then Wendy showed he the check and Riley’s right brow flicked up at the big Stark Industries logo on the top right hand corner.

Oh.

“This is enough money to open several venues!” Riley gawks at the piece of paper before Wendy took it back from her.

“Maybe I will,” Wendy smiles and Riley was excited for the older woman. Though the questions began in the back of her mind and her hackles were raised, she pushed it aside for the smile that stayed on her old friend’s face.

“Well just make me one of the head bartenders and you’ll be successful,” Riley teased.

Wendy threw a balled up napkin at her.

“Keep that attitude and you’ll be limping home with my foot up your arse.” Riley laughed as Wendy walked back to her office, muttering about the future of her business.

Riley let her shoulders sag when her old friend turned out of sight around a corner. Riley knew that something would’ve happened, that some kind of consequence would chase her and nip at her heels – but this? This proved to her that someone knew where she was which could mean that he would know.

Riley really needed to contact Fury.

***

She didn’t miss the metallic smell that lingered around Fury – she could never understand why it latched onto him but it made his scent unique. So when she smelt it through the burnt pizza from flat ten, the cigarettes from Miss Grimshaw, some strange body spray that one of the flats above Riley’s needs to use less of – well Riley knew that Fury had been in her apartment block.

Opening her senses even more allowed her to hear entire conversations within the apartment block, as well as the purring of Mittens from her own apartment – the man always had a weakness for cats and strays.

So when Miss Grimshaw came out of her apartment with her apron on and greying hair pulled off her face to greet Riley as she walked towards her door, she wasn’t surprised at the alarm on the older woman’s face.

“Riley sweetie, I heard a bit of a commotion coming from your apartment. Now I haven’t called the police yet as I thought you were home but seeing you stood here now I’m ready to call the whole force for whatever is in your home.” Miss Grimshaw rambled over a few of her words but the worry made Riley smile and thank whoever there was to thank for a neighbour like Miss Grimshaw.

“No need, I invited my uncle over. He dropped by work and I gave him my spare key.” Riley lied effortlessly, a pang of guilt hit her for lying to such a wonderful person but it would save her from a nasty memory wipe.

“Oh! Sorry lovely! Didn’t mean to scare you like that.” Miss Grimshaw sighed as her hand came to rest over her chest.

Riley quickly said her goodbyes before Miss Grimshaw disappeared back into her apartment to finish her lasagna. Riley inhaled deeply once more and confirmed that Fury was inside her apartment before she opened her door and entered.

***

News of what happened in New York circulated the world. News reporters still spoke about the aftermath and the effects on the common people as their communities did their best to come together. Others spoke about the heroic actions of the superheroes now known as the Avengers and how they defended New York from the alien invasion. The internet was a split mess of opinions, theories and wild thoughts – the internet has always been strange.

Though with all the positive reports on the rebuilding of the city and the actions of the heroes, there were also reporters questioning whether the need for enhanced individuals brought upon this fight to earth. They debated whether the damage to the city was mostly caused by these ‘heroes in tights’ and how they should be held responsible for their destruction to many peoples homes and properties.

Videos and photos from the people within the city limits were also circulating the internet. Videos of Captain America leading civilians to safety, blurred motion images of the ugly creatures that came through the wormhole, a video of a giant wolf jumping onto one of the creatures.

A wolf?

Well this just made her life ten times harder.

“I’ve been getting questions from all manner of people this past week,” Fury spoke as Riley sat watching the clip of her leaping across a city street and tearing apart one of the alien creatures from the attack. “Many of them about the success of the team I’ve put together, others about the possibility of another threat here on earth. Right. Under. Our. Noses.” Fury leans his palms on the counter across from Riley as she flicks her eyes up in his direction.

“I wasn’t a threat, I was aiding in the evacuation efforts and staying far enough from the action that you sent your team into-”

“Then tell me why I’ve got Banner, Stark, Rogers all asking about the eight foot wolf that saved Stark from becoming part of fifth avenue?” Fury snaps, raising his eyebrow above his good eye.

Riley huffs and looks back down at the clips that were playing out on the tablet on the counter.

“I did what I had to. Stop civilians from becoming another statistic.” Riley mutters and pushes the tablet back towards Fury. Mittens jumps up onto the counter and purrs as she nuzzles against Riley.

“You’re meant to be blending in. Or have you forgotten the reason why I placed you here?” Fury sneered. Riley looked back at Fury as her jaw ticked.

“Would you rather I had let all those people die? Isn’t your organisation based around the safety of the people?” Riley challenged. Fury’s eye glared down at Riley as she stood her ground.

“You’ll be going on a recon mission in northern Germany,” Fury states as he clicks on the tablet and slides it once again over to Riley. “A few of my superiors want to know that you’re trust worthy.”

“You mean they want me to know I’m under their boot.” Riley scoffs as she starts looking over the mission brief.

“I’m doing this for you kid,” Fury says and Riley’s wolf calms. “It’s safer if you’re missing for a while, especially seeming as-”

“I know.” Riley interrupts. “Thank you Fury.”

The hostile tension seems to fizzle out between the two as Mittens moves over the counter to be fussed once again by Fury.

“Get someone to look after this one for you, you’ll be gone for a couple months.” Fury instructs before leaving the apartment.

Riley tuts to herself as she looks at Mittens as the cat licks herself clean.

“Looks like you’re going to a sleep over for a while.” Riley murmurs as she pets Mittens.

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